#not thinking anything! Very beautiful art /gen
Text
Beautiful Boy
"You're sure you want to do this?" he asks, softening his voice. Jon nods.
"I... I think it'll be good for me."
That's all Martin needs to hear.
(art included!)
Jon/Martin, 1.7k words, rated Gen, read on AO3. this is for day 3 of @jonmartinweek for the prompt Hair Care!!
Martin truly thinks he's an absolute genius for using one of Jon's hair clips to keep the towel in place. Jon snickers a little at his chuffed face in the mirror, holding the other end of the towel up with his hands in front of him.
"Don't laugh," Martin tuts. "Or I'll give you a bad haircut.
"I don't know if a buzz cut is possible to mess up," Jon says. Even joking, he sounds a little nervous. His eyes dart from his own reflection to the scissors in Martin's hands, and back again. Martin plants a kiss in his hair.
"You're sure you want to do this?" he asks, softening his voice. Jon nods.
"I... I think it'll be good for me."
That's all Martin needs to hear.
They've gone over his decision a few times. First of all, the long hair has gotten a bit annoying. It blows in his face, especially in the Highland winds. It's a pain to maintain. But, mostly, it has too many negative memories attached. The only reason it's as long as it is, is he's been too tired and stressed and scared to go outside to get a proper haircut. He didn't grow it out, it got out of control. Just another thing he couldn't fix, couldn't get a handle on. Not to mention the fairly recent fear of strangers welding blade near his throat. Chopping it all off is about as good of a fresh start as Jon is going to get right now.
He remembers Jon's hair when they first met. It had been a bit long, even for how short he used to keep it. He kept it loosely pushed out of his face, but it fell in loose waves over his face whenever he was concentrating on anything else. Martin was never able to pay attention to the day's to-do's because he was always too busy watching Jon's hands run through his own hair, flipping it out of his face, the grey strands at his temples revealing themselves when he combed it back.
Despite his scruffy, ill-fitting suit jackets and trousers, his hair always fell perfectly with seemingly very little effort. Martin has curly hair himself, and he's never been one to get jealous over someone else's hair, but he really thought that's what he felt about Jon in the early days.
(It was not jealousy. He was just completely arse over kettle for his boss. But, can you blame him? Jon might be the prettiest man Martin has ever met.)
After Prentiss, Jon let his hair grow out a bit more. Well, let is a strong word. More like, he neglected in getting a haircut as his paranoia grew and grew. It reached his shoulders in just a few months, and Jon had taken up keeping it tied back in these large clips that's currently holding up the towel that will catch all that hair when Martin shears it off.
Martin remembers being quite surprised at how long his hair had gotten when he returned from his brief stint of running from the police. It was hanging in loose strings over his shoulders, like it hadn't been very well taken care of. Part of him had wanted to sit Jon down and detangle the nest residing on his head. Maybe give it a good wash.
The next time he saw Jon, it was with his hair in a braid. Or, an attempt at a braid. It was a bit more like a series of knots, a bit lopsided and kind of falling out. In his week-long shock at the fact that his boss was not, in fact, just a creepy middle aged man who was way too into administrative work, but an evil eldritch monster who is still way too into administrative work, he told Jon this. While he waited for Jon's tea to steep, he turned around and told him, 'Hey, your braid's a mess. Want me to fix it?'
To his everlasting surprise, Jon said yes.
With shaking hands and a beet red face, Martin had sat behind Jon on the couch, and carefully brushed Jon's hair through with his fingers. His hair looked healthy, like it had been recently washed, and smelled of coconut and bergamot. There was a lot more grey in it than when he first met Jon (but not as much as there is now).
Jon had sighed and closed his eyes, tilting his head back as Martin had brushed his hair back. He had wanted so badly to run his nails over his scalp, and he just barely restrained himself from doing so. His hair was soft under his hands, and it bounced back into shape when his fingers ran through the ends.
Actually putting the plait in was easy. Martin fell victim to being a girl's Gay Best Friend while he was still in high school, which is never all that great, but he did actually enjoy styling her hair. It came to him as muscle memory, twisting the three sections around each other, careful not to pull or tug by accident. He kept it fairly loose to not give Jon a tension headache, and the shape of his curls were still visible as they flowed into the braid.
After tying it off, Jon had gotten a bit stuttery and smiley, tucking the shorter strands that fell over his face behind his ears, and Martin had practically short circuited and fled the room.
Jon never got around to properly cutting his hair, even as it reached further and further down his back. After Daisy, he could never let anyone near him with a blade without falling into panic. So, he simply put up with the choppy cuts from cutting the dead ends off with a pair of kitchen scissors. It was good enough for him, apparently. And he never had to let any strangers near his neck.
Martin can't help but feel a little pride at the fact that Jon is allowing him to do this. Sure, he's screwing his eyes shut and bordering on holding his breath, but Jon is letting him do this in the first place.
"I'm gonna start now," Martin warns him. Jon hums and nods minutely, and Martin gathers some hair in his hands. He gives him another moment to change his mind, then makes the first cut.
He starts near his nape, moving along in as straight a line as he can manage. He cringes a little at the slope he creates—he somehow manages to cut a bar graph into Jon's ends—but it doesn't matter. He drops the cut strands into the bin below him, not bothering with the bits that stick to the towel. His hair goes from ending at his mid-back, to... whatever Martin has managed to make. It sits in an odd, blunt bob, just above his shoulders. When Martin sets the scissors down for a moment, stretching his hands, Jon's shoulder slump and relax, and reveals that Martin has actually cut much further than he thought.
"You look like Lord Farquaad," Martin snickers as Jon opens his eyes. They glow green for just a second, and Jon gasps in offence, then laughs.
"So mean to me," he bemoans. "Why must I face such treatment? Go to jail."
"If I go to jail, I can't do the rest of your hair, m'Lord." Martin picks the scissors back up, ready to cut more off before going with the razor. Jon closes his eyes again.
"I'll just visit you in jail," Jon says, seeming much more relaxed now that the first shock is over. "Give you a spoon to dig your way out."
"I'll Shawshank Redemption my way out of there," Martin promises as he cuts shorter and shorter. "Come back with scissors and a vengeance."
Jon laughs quietly. After another few minutes, Martin has gotten his hair into a rather shaggy short cut. It looks awful.
"Okay, I'm gonna plug in the razor, don't look at your hair."
"Why not?" Jon immediately opens his eyes and starts to laugh at the sight.
"Don't look!" Martin splutters, scandalised.
"I look like I got attacked by Edward Scissorhands!" Jon cackles, running a hand through the choppy sections.
"I'll fix it, just hold bloody still," Martin grumbles, face red. Even through the buzzing of the razor, he can hear and see Jon humming with giggles. He never could have guessed that Jon's favourite hobby, should they ever have actually started dating, would be winding Martin up at every opportunity.
He starts, again, at the neck and works his way up. His grey hair sits in patches through the black, buzzed hair. Martin wouldn't tell him, but it makes him look like a spotted cat. The hair falls into the towel above Jon's lap, onto the floor. Once Martin is done, and it looks a relatively even length, he turns the clippers off, and kisses the top of Jon's head.
"All finished," he says softly.
Jon opens his eyes and stares at the mirror. He runs a hand over his head, tilting it to the side a little. Martin, to busy his nervous hands, removes the hair clip from the towels and gathers it up with the pile of hair in it.
"Do..." Martin tries to act and sound casual. He does not. "Do you like it?"
"Yeah," Jon says, and finally smiles. There are pinprick tears in his eyes. "I do. I really do."
Martin kisses the top of his head again, running his hand over his hair. The short strands are still soft, but sliding his hand up the opposite direction leaves his palm a little scratchy. Jon doesn't stand, but he reaches up and pulls Martin down into a proper kiss.
"I love you," he whispers on Martin's lips.
"I love you, too," Martin whispers back. He brushes some of the stray hairs that somehow found their way onto Jon's jumper before he kisses him again.
That night, in bed, Martin strokes his hand back and forth over Jon's hair while he sleeps, tucked under Martin's chin. It feels nice. Different.
And Jon is still the prettiest man that Martin has ever met.
279 notes
·
View notes
Text
GRWM to participate in a life or death brawl!
platonic!Johnny Cage x platonic!gen-z!reader; neutral!Kenshi Takahashi x neutral!reader; platonic!Raiden x platonic!reader; platonic!Kung Lao x platonic!reader; platonic!Lui Kang x platonic!reader
@one-green-frog @whore-of-many-hot-men xox
thank you guys for showing love to my very first piece! i look forward to providing you with as much content that i can pump out! now that i’ve essentially finished the general background info, I’m gonna try to follow the storyline as closely as possible while also developing the lore for !reader. bear with me pls! don't know about any relationships taking place, but that may change. anyway, enjoy! xox
“hey guys! welcome back to my channel! as you all know, johnny and i decided to take a little vacation in between some of his big projects. that doesn’t mean that you miss out on all the action though so here’s a quick little get ready with me in this rehab facility he checked us into!” you poke your tongue out and shoot a peace sign to the camera before turning it around and showing the beautiful scenery of the monk academy.
“y/n! check this shit out!” johnny wails, he began showing his improved skills by throwing punches at a wooden dummy and with an uppercut, knocked the head a good 5 yards away.
you whistle and track the trajectory of the dummy head with your phone. you’d managed to ration out your battery life despite filming and posting an abundance of johnny’s new life of martial arts.
johnny runs over after to see the video for himself and as you play it back for him, he notices someone looking on with great disdain.
“kenshi, man! I’m telling you, if you wanna piece, all ya gotta do is ask.” he makes a show of it by flexing his arms and posing as if he was back on the red carpet.
kenshi rolls his eyes and lets out a puff of air, “i dont want anything you have to offer, john.” he crossed his arms and turns his attention toward the other guys that lui kang recruited to be the power rangers of earthrealm.
you learned that kung lao and raiden were their names. you had to stop johnny from getting himself cancelled as he tried to make references to Godzilla when the men clearly were not of that origin. but they were cool people, you’d have to make a mukbang with them one day for sure. you paused, realizing you were no better in terms of geography.
“oh really? not even sentō?” speaking of being an antagonistic asshole, johnny removed the sword from his back and waved it around, trying to perform swift and severe moves as a ninja would. he made it a goal to make the sounds as well.
you just stood at the ready, phone already recording and the sound picking up the popping of bubblegum in the background. a week in and you traded in your black flats and pantsuit for the same training attire that the guys were wearing. you were by no means throwing any punches, but you’d be damned if you didn’t match for aesthetic purposes.
kenshi stopped in his tracks, “oh i think you done did it now, johnny baby…” you twirl a curl of hair between your fingers, lowkey focused more on the rippling muscles and raging testosterone that put itself on display for you.
“now, now. if there is gonna be a brawl of any sorts, its going to be the one that decides who our champion of earthrealm will be.”
“ahhh, the all-knowing, all-powerful always has such perfect timing,” you coo. “what’s hopping kangaroo?”
“ah, i’ve been managing the behind the scenes of the competition. making sure all is in order for whomever our champion will be.” he smiles genuinely before bowing before you out of kindness. you would be rude to not return it.
“which is totally going to be me.” kung lao says affirmatively before throwing his makeshift razor-hat. it passes just over your head before getting imbedding in the side of a building.
“watch were you throw that thing! you kill my assistant, you replace her!” johnny pokes at his shoulder.
“nice to know that you value and care for her…” raiden chips in.
“word.” was all you said in agreement.
“right…” lui kang claps his hands together, looking over the lively bunch in front of him. part of you wonders if he was beginning to regret his choice in heroes.
“as I was saying, today is the day. whoever comes out victorious in the matches will be earthrealm’s champion and will go on to battle against outworld warriors to defend the title. we will start with johnny and kenshi.”
“y/n, watch me beat his ass real quick.”
“best 2 out of 3?” you say as you join lui kang on the sidelines. he simply nods.
“round 1… fight!” you say before banging the gong.
“beat his ass, johnny! wooooo!” you jump and cheer from the sidelines.
“finish me johnny cage~” a robotic voice chimed from your phone. the sideline goes silent before you mutter a quick “oops” to check what the fuck just happened.
you’re accidentally livestreaming. the voice being someone who donated. well, gotta get paid someway. you turned the phone back on the action, watching as donors flooded the chat, saying how sexy johnny looked when he was fighting and the whole nine yards.
“chat thinks you’re so cool right now. don’t disappoint!”
and how could he? with a swift uppercut, kenshi called it quits for the first round while he regained his balance and strength.
“you’re not done yet johnathan carlton!” you call. he runs over as you take a gatorade bottle and squeeze the contents into his mouth and a little bit on your hands before smacking the shit out of him. “you get out there and you finish it!” he nods without a word before bumping your fist. when he turns to get back in the ring, you deliver a swift slap to his ass for encouragement.
“does that actually help?” raiden comments. he wouldn’t lie, he was tickled by the nonchalant relationship you and Johnny exhibited.
“nah. he just has a really nice ass.” you say, body language unwavering.
it definitely wasn’t helping. he was getting his shit handed to him this round. so much so, he tagged you in.
“whyyyyy am I here! i’m so quitting after this!” you scream as you block many of kenshi’s attacks. johnny, who claims he is just taking a breather, now acted as cameraman as he and the chat giggled at your attempts to evade kenshi.
lui kang had a smirk on his face as he watched the growing potential in you. Despite your obvious fear, you were evading kenshi’s offensive moves quite diligently. He eventually spoke with the goal to guide you.
“compose yourself, y/n. you’re bouncing all over the place, use that momentum for something else.”
you were desperately running out of air from running around the ring, but you couldn’t let up or else kenshi would deploy his frustrations about johnny on you (mmmmm). despite your fear, you heard lui kang’s voice and man, does this god have a voice of reason. you had to obey. so you placed your trust in it and stopped before quickly ducking.
In doing so, you felt a gust of wind fly over your head, surely a devastating blow from kenshi. you then turned and blindly threw a punch. surprisingly, you made contact, square in the middle of his chest. he gasped for air as the assault caused it all to exit his lungs and drop to his knees. he looked up at you with a fire burning in his eyes. you did not wait to continue and tagged johnny back in.
“now who’s the kangaroo?” lui kang smiled.
“you must think you’re so funny.” you respond, completely stale-faced.
johnny ended up losing the second round, before recovering and winning the final round. quickly though, he was thrust into battle with kung lao where he lost.
“a brawl between old pals,” you start. “how you feeling kung fu panda?” you put the camera directly up to his eyebrows on a 0.5x setting, getting an insane shot of his forehead.
“first, you’re no better than johnny,” you gasp. “second, i’m feeling really confident.” he finishes.
“and you ray ray?” you proceed to give him the same media coverage.
“i’ve been waiting for this day for a while.”
“oh he’s so gonna beat your ass”
and you should’ve bet money on it too as raiden came out victorious.
“so these outworlders, they hot? mutated? what exactly should we be expecting God-Almighty?” johnny asks but not without you delivering a swift elbow to his side for his crudeness.
“outworlders do have an enhanced strength compared to humans. some also have powers like me.” lui kang demonstrated with his possession of fire.
“so what’s raiden got that can go up against people like you.” kenshi spoke up, finally seeming over the bitterness of his loss earlier.
“i am always prepared. raiden, i bestow upon you the element of lightning. i ensure that it will aid you tenaciously. i am certain earthrealm will remain in good hands with you.” He hands the amulet over and raiden immediately demonstrated his new abilities by electrocuting the shit out of some training dummies.
“ok one, he just literally roasted the fuck outta y’all and two, can he charge my phone with this new ability.”
“can you be serious for one moment?” kenshi grumbled.
“oh im sorry, i thought someone who’s ass i kicked earlier had something to say?” you retort.
he was ready to respond again, but lui kang redirected the conversation.
“it is time. we must depart. outworld is expecting us.” he begins to move his hands in the same circular motion as before and another portal beings to open up.
“y/n! y/n! Look!” johnny points as if he was kid asking his parent capture his performance.
“i got it johnny, damn! it’s not like this isn’t my whole ass job.” you roll you eyes as you break your slowly dying phone out again. before entering the portal, lui kang turned to you,
“i trust that you won’t be getting yourself in trouble?” he raised an eyebrow, his playful demeanor replaced with a serious one.
“don’t worry kangaroo, i’ll be doing the PR work for both johnny and i. count on me to clean up any mess these boys make. it’s all in the job description.”
his face screwed up in thought before he nodded.
“Let us show these outworlders what we are made of.” he led first through the portal.
-end-
I will update as much as I can but just know I am a college student with other commitments. bear with me!
#mk1 2023#johnny cage#kenshi takahashi#raiden#lui kang#kung lao#x reader#mk1 x reader#reader insert#shitpost#self insert#mortal kombat#platonic
57 notes
·
View notes
Text
honestly i think the main problem with aesthetic subculture today as opposed to other subcultures is how much it focuses on appearance as opposed to beliefs or values. like, the way that people refer to their lifestyle as an "aesthetic" (ie concerned with beauty/appearance) should be pretty emblematic as to exactly what part of the culture is valued. and honestly i see this as a real pervasive problem that makes me kind of fucking mad.
i've already heard opinions like this tossed around and seen people been called "elitist" for this viewpoint but truthfully? i feel the way aesthetic culture stands right now is more elitist than anything else and frankly incredibly consumerist. the entire movement is based on appearance and cultivating a "look," and when you apply that that to a literal lifestyle, then it becomes inherently shallow. aesthetic culture is a fashion movement cosplaying as a culture, and one that requires money to properly emulate.
as someone who has put in effort to appear "dark academic," it takes money to buy enough aesthetic clothes to make aesthetic outfits. it's takes money to buy enough items to turn your room into an aesthetic space. aesthetic culture is inherently materialistic because it focuses so much on building a look. and there wouldn't be a problem with just having fun and trying to create a cool look for yourself if it didn't so persistently try to define itself as a culture. people will try to do things they associate with being "cottagecore" or "dark academia" without putting any thoughts behind the origins or values of these movements. when you try to emulate a look without putting any thought into values, it proves to be very limiting because you want to act in a way that helps your look, and no one's personality is entirely one aesthetic.
cottagecore is derived from freedom from societal constructs and an eco-conscious mentality, but most people into cottagecore think it's more "being soft and wearing pretty dresses and baking bread," essentially taking away most of the movement's value. the purpose of dark academia is to pursue knowledge and enlightenment through the humanities and arts, but people will take it as "looking cool and dark and mysterious" without actually reading works of art that inspire deep thought.
aesthetic culture is shallow, materialistic, and unsustainable, as the default approach to it is to simply emulate a "look" rather to put any deep thought behind a culture. everyone always acts like gen z are the new revolutionaries when frankly, our subcultures and countercultures don't even hold a candle to previous movements; especially those of the 50s and 60s (which, i remind you, was the generation of the hippie-to-reagan pipeline), and aesthetic culture is quite frankly the worst of it.
i'm not going to sit here and say aesthetic culture is inherently bad; obviously, practicing the values emphasized by these subcultures and counter movements brings value to the movement as a whole, but just going through the motions of something that looks pretty is shallow and limiting and frankly, pretty embarrassing.
tl;dr: aesthetic culture is cool if you try to actually find the value in what the aesthetic stands for and we should bring back the word "poser"
#i saw a post like this floating around a while ago and might have internalized parts so apologies if this unintentionally copies anyone#aesthetic#dark academia#cottagecore#light academia#art hoe#fairycore#softcore#soft girl#vaporwave#witchcore#e girl#grunge#plant mom#goblincore#royalcore
452 notes
·
View notes
Note
psst you got any more creepypasta fic recs? 👀
i have quite a few!!
putting them all below the cut to save space, and i cannot stress enough that if you want to read most of these you Need to read all the tags. some of these are very light and sweet, others do not play about with the genre. i’ll be giving overall synopses + warnings (somewhat) but do read the tags for further details!!
in loco parentis by nymm_at_night is. well. you’ve all heard me praise it before. you say “more” so i assume you’ve already read it, but i legally can’t make a fic rec list without it. it centers around jeff, jack, and ben + tim/brian, and is where i’ve taken So much inspiration from. if any of you who like creepypasta have not read it yet please do. tim/brian (in a divorced way), all the chapters have their own disclaimers but the overall biggest overarching ones i can think of are semi-heavy descriptions of death and gore.
visual arts by killer_cat is a very good, short one shot! it centers around helen and jack and i absolutely love the author’s characterizations/interpretations of everyone. gen and mentions of blood/typically creepypasta-typical killings, but overall nothing too major
KISS ME WHEN YOU KILL ME by notaccessible is unfinished with only two chapters, but i really like where they’re going with things! they’ve retold both jeff and jack’s origins in pretty compelling ways. jeff/jack, but there’s no actual ship content as of yet. there are a few heavy scenes, largely dealing with abuse, murder, and suicide, largely in jeff’s chapter.
undone drawings by sleeplywritings (pancakebluess) is a very sweet, cute one-shot about sally and jeff. some of the formatting is wonky at times when it comes to the dialogue, but it’s not too bad, and overall understandable. plus the overall mansion dynamics are fun and silly (AND they’re normal about tim 🔥🔥). gen + no real warnings
water bearer (paint me red) by xfreesomebodyx is a one-shot centered around jeff and jack. it goes into extreme detail about jeff the killing people, so do tread carefully, but i REALLY enjoy their jeff characterization. i like it when authors latch onto his whole being beautiful bit. i’m ambivalent towards their jack at best, but GOD is jeff well-done in this. heads up so you don’t get confused like i did there IS a formatting error in it where a section seems to have been pasted twice (as of writing this). tagged as jeff/jack but there’s nothing explicitly romantic, largely just subtext/undertones.
a house full of serial killers VS the barbie movie starring margot robbie and ryan gosling by salty_sam is a one-shot chatfic but you guys know they’re my guilty pleasure so i can’t not add it. it’s largely just the author messing around with character dynamics and mansion relationships which is what i am here for always. tim and brian are off (brian especially) but everyone else is super fun and consistently entertaining. gen, no real warnings outside of mentioned drug use
handling rejection by sunsh1ne_sweethe4rt has wonky formatting BUT if you can get past it it’s just a cute one-shot, if not a little simplistic in terms of writing. it’s just about tim trying to help nina get over her crush on jeff. i’m a bit biased bc anything with tim written normally makes me instantly herald it like a miracle but i really just think it’s cute and funny :] gen (with the exception of nina’s crush on jeff) and no real warnings i can think of
déjà vu by nightstar1888 is a bit hit or miss for me due to their tim/masky characterization, but i REALLY enjoy the stuff they did with ben. it’s a one-shot about toby helping jeff dye his hair, nothing too special, but i like the parallels they drew between then two. it’s tagged as jeff/toby but nothing romantic really happens outside of a few lines of semi-flirting, no real warnings outside of mentions of toby + jeff’s backstories and all they entail
the collar incident by honeycirrus is. well i’m hesitant to fully recommend it. there are certain parts of it i really enjoy, especially with the dynamics between the mansion cast, but that’s pretty much it, and those are kind of few and far between. i’d recommend the first four chapters ish? they do some fun stuff with BEN that i might honestly steal for myself, but i spent way too long wondering if they actually meant BEN or didn’t get the 2020 lore update. ben/toby, one semi-intense self-mutilation scene.
#muse talk#anon#creepyposting#i have. only recently gotten back into things#which is why all of these are very recent works#usually in fandoms im very picky with formatting but here i am So So desperate and it shows orz
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Most Beautiful Host for Carnage
And here we have in the list of old Ko Fi Requests Ammer has done for me a technically old concept since I've gotten a bunch of Symbiote related art before this but also technically new because it's with a different symbiote instead of Venom this time but still also technically old because if we are respecting Marvel lore than Carnage is still the child of Venom but it's still technically a new thing because even with there relation to Venom Carnage is still pretty different from Ven... Is your head hurting yet? Good lol!
I've gotten A LOT of Symbiote related stuff relating to Venom up to this point and there's always been a good reason for that. Aside from being the main Symbiote that people will usually think of when they think about this parasitic species of aliens, I just really like the design of that suit regardless of what universes design it is. Main, Ultimate or Rami verse. However even with that, Venom's child Carnage is another Symbiote I'd had a lot of interest in getting something with. Problem is that for the longest time I couldn't think of a good host to pair them with. Until I played Skullgirls and saw Eliza. Putting aside the fact I do have a thing for Eliza's design in general bonding her to Carnage made two much sense NOT to do.
I mean Eliza herself in cannon is well over 1000 years old thanks to the parasite she's already bonded to with, Sekhmet, which has allowed her to make herself young and beautiful perpetually thanks to blood magic as well how the charity blood drives she helps run are only used her her own selfish reasons not to mention she's shown in her own story mode to be pretty ruthless and not above getting her hands dirty. She's pretty much a vampire at this point. Plus her animations in game have her morphing her body in a way very similar to how Symbiotes are able to in most depictions. So bonding her to ANOTHER parasite that is a lot more violent, takes pleasure in violence, has a pretty high kill count and who's name is literally Carnage was perfect... And also probaply pretty scary given she's likely now even more dangerous. Thankful even most people who don't know a lot about Marvel lore know how dangerous the Carnage symbiote can make someone so I'm sure people will remember to be careful around the otherwise beautiful Egyptian Diva.
Genie Michael: Most people know? That's pretty ironic coming from the same guy who didn't even know who Moon Knight was until a few years ago despite Moon Knight existing in Marvel since 1975.
Hey, that example Marvel barley did anything with the character outside of comic books anyway save for that one Spider-Man game from 2008 he cameo's in and only recently decided to have him be part of the MCU with his own series on Disney +. Carnage and Venom on the other hand Marvel's done a lot with so I have no doubt more people know them!
Inkling Michael: I don't know man, with the way some Mellenials and Gen Z's act over some of the stuff you talk about IRL I'm not getting my hopes up high. Hell, I'm not even from this universe and even I can tell you I get surprised when I see people here who have never owned or heard of Bionicle despite it's legacy.
GM: Yeah and not to mention we got people acting like the recent Dune movies are some sort of revolutionary Si-Fi story even though the franchise has existed for decades at this point thanks to there being several books, a movie from the 80's and lots of video games.
Artist is AmeerAshourDraws.
6 notes
·
View notes
Note
What does Cereza look like and how tall is she compared to the other characters and pokemon (it feels weird calling them characters)
*me vibrating at the exact frequency required to shatter glass* yeah I can do that for you
(I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ASK (scroll to the end for some sketches of Cereza))
SO FOR STARTERS
Cereza is NOT tall, she's like maybe five feet somethin' short. She's Kieran's height during the Teal Mask and stays the same height forever.
She does wear thick boots or sneakers all the time though in order to remedy this. Chunky soles are also good for traction and she climbs everything. She likes having stompers.
Cereza seems taller than she is cuz she's all arms and legs, little gangly creature. She's also very sticklike, if you shook her she would make a rattling sound. All her muscle is very lean. Compact cryptid.
I should clarify that I subscribe to the headcanon Kieran gets a growth spurt over the timeskip between the Teal Mask and the Indigo Disk. I think he shoots up to Amarys's height but still has issues with slouching so he might not seem like exactly the same height. Height is evidently in his genes if Carmine is any evidence. He's not done growing. (Cereza is pissed that she's not getting any taller and Kieran IS STILL GROWING)
Cereza looks fucking hilarious next to all her huge freaking pokemon. Little creature next to big creature(s)
Cereza's hair is very specific in color and style in my brain. It's very wild and thick, as well as very long. It's the same consistency of a Hex Maniac's from the gen 6 games.
Cereza's hair is ash blonde/white, exactly like the ash white option in game except the white streaks are even whiter (especially in the Indigo Disc, partially because fluorescents). It's very pale and muted, probably a shade lighter than the ash white in game depending on the lighting.
Her hair is nigh constantly in low twintails that reach about her hips to maybe her thigh in length (it does grow over the timeskip, but it's so wild that it's kinda hard to notice especially since her bangs don't change). She will do little mini braids in her hair sometimes purely as a fidgeting habit to keep her hands busy or that piece of her hair isn't cooperating, and she wants it outta the way. Cereza's hair is the perfect length and consistency to play with and do things with. Lacey has to use every ounce of self-control in her body not to play with Cereza's hair. Deadeye has no such self-control and will bite at Cereza's hair all the time.
Hair color refs!!
(DUDE THE IMAGES ARE SO BIG HOW DO I MAKE THEM SMALLER-)
and also a hex maniac for hair texture reference
Moving on, Cereza's eyes are a darker red in Teal Mask, more discreet, but in the Indigo Disc they've gotten more saturated to the point of becoming a startling red.
Her eyes are really big and round and sharp at the same time?? like they're round but her eyelines and eyelashes are pretty sharp. Her eyelashes are dark and pretty long. I would say her eyelashes are a dark DARK brown as opposed to black. Her eyes are very reminiscent of Briar's but a slightly different shape. Her pupils have a four-pointed star shape. This is not foreshadowing anything /lying
Cereza also has a beauty mark under each eye, perfectly identical and symmetric. (research says they're called tear moles, and they signify bad luck or hardship in life. It fits for plot reasons you'll see later lmao) She also has faint freckles all over, they're light enough that they aren't visible at a glance but you can see 'em if you squint. They would be more visible if she went out more during the day. Cryptid ass.
Posting this sketch is genuinely so scary like putting my own art on the internet? BLEGH. Giving people a visual of my own character? BLEGH.
Alright that's Cereza. Have some bonus sketches of the boys.
might transfer them to digital. idk. Anyway, thanks for staying this long!!!!!!
✨Do whatever you want forever✨
~ Cytoplasm
#cereza pokemon#pokemon oc#scarvi oc#kieran x oc#pokemon sv#dipplinshipping#kieran x mc#oc x canon#rival kieran#the indigo disk#juliana x kieran#juliana x kieran pokemon#the teal mask#oc art#pokemon art#trainer kieran#pokemon kieran#pokemon sv dlc#pokemon scarlet and violet#kieran x juliana#drayton pokemon#elite four drayton#trainer drayton#indigo disk#pokemon scarvi#kieran
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Happiness Is
the one (1) fic to come out of my “everybody send me all the prompts for november, i’m gonna write so much stuff!!!!” endeavor 😬😅 obviously that did not happen. but hey, now i have a spreadsheet full of prompts that i can still write whenever the inspiration and motivation strike, so there’s that!
this one was prompted by @nerdherderette ❤
| Sterek | 1.4k | Gen | Established Relationship | Christmas Shopping | Derek Hale Is A Hopeless Romantic | Oblivious Stiles Stilinski | Tooth-Rotting Fluff | Hand-Holding |
(also on AO3)
.
It was cold out. Maybe that was part of the problem.
Beacon Hills was northern enough that snow was a guarantee in the winters, but it was only a few days after Thanksgiving and it hadn’t quite hit them yet. There was plenty of fake snow, though, as all the storefronts decked their halls six ways to Sunday, and the crisp late-autumn breeze was plenty cold enough to warrant sweaters and scarves and knitted hats pulled low over ears. Derek was starting to wish he had worn gloves.
If his fingers were going numb, it stood to reason that Stiles’ fingers were too, especially with how much he sent them whistling through the air to punctuate whatever point he was making. Derek had sort of stopped listening. He was fully concentrated on his goal.
As they meandered down Main Street, past brightly lit storefronts full of loudly advertised Christmas-themed merchandise, Derek sidled in close and made another grab for Stiles’ hand. His fingers slid off the back of it, the hand leaping up to gesticulate another very important talking point.
Goddamn it.
It had to be cold-induced numbness. Honestly, that was the only explanation at this point for how he hadn’t noticed the last three times that Derek had tried to take his hand. Either that or he really was just so absent-minded that all the bumps and brushes and points of contact were forgotten as soon as they registered.
Derek fought not to growl in frustration. This was so dumb. He just wanted to hold Stiles’ stupid hand. Was that too much to ask for? Why did he have to make it so difficult?
Derek kicked a fake pine cone, dusted with fake snow, off the sidewalk with prejudice.
“Oh yeah,” Stiles said, turning all the way around to point back at the pine cone as they passed it. “I wanna get me some of those! Put ‘em up around the house, make it feel cozy and shit. Dad thinks that’s a waste of money but Melissa likes the vibe, and we all know Dad can’t say no to Melissa, so if I give them to her to bring over, I’m in the clear.”
Stiles’ hands fell back to his sides. The left one was right there, barely six inches away from Derek’s right. Now, if it would just stay put long enough for Derek to—
It slid right out from under Derek’s fingers, up up and away to point at some sale notice in a window down the street. The explosive sigh that Derek couldn’t contain finally caught Stiles’ attention. Derek, unbalanced by his latest attempt, was now standing far closer than was reasonable.
“Dude,” Stiles said, confused. “What are you doing?”
Derek’s face, already reddened by the cold wind, flushed even more. “Nothing.”
Stiles’ eyes narrowed in benign suspicion. “Are you sure?”
“I’m not doing anything!”
Not successfully, at least. He was fucking trying.
Stiles held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay! There’s just one more store up here that I wanna check out—Allison’s getting back into watercolors and Lydia said there’s decent art supplies on sale in there—and then we can head back to the car. Unless you want to head over to the park and look at the lights?”
The display the city put up every year was beautiful, every tree wrapped up in strings and strings of fairy lights and sprinkled with decorations. Derek would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about going there with Stiles, watching his face light up more than the trees, sharing in the experience together. Walking hand in hand down the narrow lanes, like Derek’s parents used to every year, the kids following in their wake like ducklings. It had been a quiet, indulgent fantasy, something that he’d tucked into his back pocket a long time ago alongside all the other silly, overly-romantic things he wouldn’t admit to wanting.
“Or we can just go to your place and watch a movie,” Stiles suggested easily, when Derek took too long to respond, already starting to walk again. “It’s cold as balls out here anyway.”
“No!”
Stiles stopped and turned back, eyebrows raised.
“I mean—” Derek stuffed his own hands hastily into his pockets; they had been reaching out again. “Not no to the movie, that’s fine, I just meant— We can go see the lights.”
Stiles nodded slowly. “Okay. Store, lights, home for movie. Sounds like a plan to me.”
He kind of looked like he thought Derek was a little crazy tonight, but he managed to make it look fond. It was good to know that weird, erratic behavior wasn’t enough to run Stiles off. They had only been dating for three weeks, and they had been busy weeks with not a lot of time to actually spend alone together. This outing was their first proper date, if shopping for Christmas presents together really counted as a date. It felt like one to Derek, but maybe Stiles felt differently. He didn’t know all of Stiles’ dating preferences yet. Hell, for all Derek knew, Stiles didn’t even like holding hands and he’d been trying this whole time to brush Derek off without hurting his feelings!
That would be fine, mostly, Derek told himself. He could date someone without hand-holding. It was a silly, childish kind of thing to want anyway. He didn’t need it.
He told himself that repeatedly throughout the fifteen minutes Stiles spent perusing art supplies for Allison. He kept telling himself that as Stiles tried to super sneakily slip a leather sketchbook that Derek had been eyeing into his order without Derek noticing. He almost succeeded in convincing himself of it as they made their way diagonally through the square toward the park.
Derek hadn’t been to see the lights in years. Not since before he’d left town. He knew some of the pack had come in previous years, but he hadn’t really felt like joining them on their double- and triple-dates, and it wasn’t the kind of thing that felt right to go to alone. No matter how much he’d imagined it, he hadn’t even thought to consider actually asking Stiles to come with him, new as their relationship was. Or maybe he had just resigned the whole experience to being a thing of the past.
As the lights came into view, though, they brought with them all the wonder they had when he was a child. He’d half-expected it to have been a rose-tinted glasses kind of deal, aggrandized in his memory by how much he missed the people he’d experienced it with. But it wasn’t. Every limb of every tree, sparkling all around them like something out of another world. His father had always called them fairy lights no matter how much his wife teased him for it. Surrounded by light, Derek could still hear the laughter.
Cold fingers found Derek’s. He startled. Looking down, he followed fingers to hand to arm to shoulder, all the way up to Stiles' face, still turned toward the display. It was a long moment before Stiles looked back at him. The smile on his face was brighter than any fairy light.
He didn’t say anything. He just turned his hand to lace their fingers together more securely and squeezed. Cold as his skin was, Derek suddenly felt warmed all the way through. He smiled back.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d want to…” Stiles waggled their joined hands a little. “Not everybody’s big on hand-holding.”
“No!” Derek said, face flushing. “I mean, yeah, I— I don’t mind.”
Stiles laughed, head ducked. Then his head snapped up, eyes narrowed with sudden and inconvenient perceptiveness. “Wait, is that what you were doing earlier? Were you trying to hold my hand and embarrassed about it?”
Derek opened his mouth to deny it, but the utter mischievous delight in Stiles’ face robbed him of the words. Instead, he said, “In my defense, you were making it really difficult. Would it kill you to hold still for five seconds at a time?”
Grin so wide it must be hurting his face, Stiles said, as dryly as he could, “You know, I think it might.” He dragged their hands up between them and pressed a kiss to the back of Derek’s. “I’ll try, though. For you. How’s that?”
His eyes were sparkling, reflecting a thousand tiny points of brilliance from all around them, and his lips were warm where they stayed, grinning, pressed against Derek’s skin. Their hands fit perfectly together.
It was better than anything Derek had dared to imagine.
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
Codywan fic recs in honour of Kenobi airing
An Accidental Expression (of Love) by kj_feybarn (5531 words), Gen
Summary: “Anakin,” Obi-Wan called out, unable to stop the alarm from coloring his tone. “Don’t—”
Anakin, heedless of Obi-Wan’s half-given warning, reached out and grabbed the strange spherical ball that lay on the altar in the middle of the room.
“—touch that,” Obi-Wan finished with a sigh.
Beside him his Commander let out a huff of air that could have meant any number of things, but that Obi-Wan translated as his Commander’s ‘I can’t believe I’m the only person here with common sense’ huff.
I LOVED this fic!! It is a bit on crack, but gods is it well-written. There is implied Waxer/Boil, which I hate, but getting over it is really easy. Worth every words.
an ice cream-covered screaming hyperactive thought by adiduck (book_people) (9863 words) Gen
Summary: Cody is fairly certain he is not going to get his security deposit back.
There are three new stains on his carpet, and a patch by the door has been roughed up enough Cody’s pretty sure the weave’s come loose. The door itself has scratches in the paint all the way up to the door knob, and the curtains covering the windows on either side of the door are shredded, showing the metal grating over the transparisteel on the street side. The caf machine, the dish rack, and the soap dispenser are all in a collapsed and soapy heap on the floor. Cody’d managed through reflexes honed by war to save his favorite caf mug, but had sadly lost two of his plates and a bowl before he’d managed to wrap the perpetrator in three towels and shove the whole bundle up against a shoulder.
The towel bundle, very put out by this turn of events, is yelling.
Again, LOVED it. I absolutely adore accidental animal adoption and this fic is it. It's covered in fluff and chaos, but boy is that chaos beautiful. I'm begging you to read this fic, please.
Take A Chance On Me by Treetart (6021 words) Teen and Up
Summary: Eventually five chapters with different stages of Codywan.
Amazing! Beautiful! A kriffing piece of art! I reread this fic everytime I can and I never get bored of it. It's a big fluffy blanket when life is a cold and unforgiving winter.
when we see each other by notquiteaghost (580 words) Teen and Up
Summary: When is the war going to end, she asks
When we see each other, I say.
It takes just over five months, for Rex to find him.
Tatooine isn’t a place anyone ends up for good reason. No one asks where he came from, what he’s doing here, what his name is. He spends as much time alone as he can.
“Someone’s asking after you,” Annileen says, on his seventh visit to her compound, as he’s bundling his wares onto his speeder. “Mando, I think. Didn’t tell ‘em shit, but they knew a lot already.”
Obi-Wan thinks, foolishly, of Cody. This close to Huttspace, it’s still Mando armour before it’s trooper armour, the war a far off thing very few people care to know about but bounty hunters a constant.
It’s not Cody. He would have sensed Cody. Cody shot him out the sky.
It is short, but sweet and warm. I usually hate fics shorter than 2k, but I can't stop reading this one. It's perfect for when you want a quick escape but have things to do. 10/10
your atomic god by TallNegotiations (dionova) (26 326 words) Gen
Summary:
The code of a clone is a simple thing: you were made to die for the Republic, for the Jedi. Make the most of the time you have before that.
Cody, who picked his own name, who paints his armor in simple brush strokes, whose hand has never fit anything more perfectly than a blaster grip, figures out how to make the most of it.
And maybe there's a matchmaking lightsaber somewhere in there to help along the way.
CLONES BEING WHOLESOME AND A MATCHMAKER LIGHTSABER WHAT MORE COULD YOU ASK FOR?!!
These Things Happen by writehandman (38 639 words) Teen and Up
Summary: Obi-wan Kenobi keeps promoting Cody. The promotion gets out of hand, and suddenly the balance of the universe shifts into the palm of a very competent, caffeinated man.
I'M JUST BEGGING W/ TEARS FOR YOU TO READ THIS PLEASE
Next To Me by JedimasterMegan (246 words) Gen
Summary: Lazy mornings are rare during the war, but every once in while, Cody and his general manage to sneak one in. And Cody isn’t letting anyone or anything ruin this time they have alone. (That means you, Skywalker.)
Again, really short fic but the fluff it is made of is just *chief kiss*
you're his heart, you're still here by lydiasgrace and ThirthFloor (20 933 words) Not Rated, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH
Summary: Fine. Skywalker would tag along during the ship ride, sure. As soon as they got to Stewjon they’d be going their separate ways. Anakin knew they were going to the planet, not to the mountains, so maybe Cody could just drop him off at some village and then get back on the ship and actually fly to the mountains. Yeah, that would work.
Cody tried not to think of how callous he seemed. He knew Skywalker was grieving Obi-Wan just as he was, but Cody just needed… he wasn’t sure what he needed. But he was certain that he didn’t need Skywalker. Skywalker had a wife to go back to, and a Padawan who was considering working with the Order again, and two ade about to enter the world. Cody had his vode, who all needed space to learn who they wanted to be. He used to have Obi-Wan too. Now Cody was alone, and he wanted it to stay that way while he figured out what the kriff he was going to do with the rest of his life. Obi-Wan was supposed to be there to help him, let Cody share his dreams. Cody was lost without him.
PAIN BUT GODS IS THIS PAIN BEAUTIFUL AND WORTH IT. Cody and Anakin bond over Obi Wan's death, I always wanted to see them interact more. Cody finally lets himself experience and process his grief and it's heartbreaking before mending it.
Codywan Deserves Better series by HalbarryTrashcan (15 003 words) Teen and Up
Summary:
Shake it out (part 1): Since Obi-Wan's force bond broke years ago when Qui-Gon died, he has had to depend on painkillers and the Force to keep the headaches at bay. But when he met a certain Clone Commander, everything changed.
I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire (Part 2): A rewrite of Season 3 Episode 9: The Hunt for Ziro.
In which, Cody actually does want to set the world on fire.
I don't have words to describe how I feel about this series. If I could print it out and put it in a historical library with the most beautiful classics, I would do it without hesitation. Halbarry is an amazing writer and I beg you to check out their other stuff if you like this one. Part 2's got a side-serving of Fox/Quinlan Vos and I love this ship too.
I wish you a good sleepless night reading these :)
#codywan fic#codywan fic recs#fic recs#codywan#swtcw#commander cody#obi wan kenobi#obi wan and cody#kenobi series#kenobi show
288 notes
·
View notes
Note
❤️🔥😭😇💔🪢
Simon, Nina, Gastón and Ambar
❤️🔥 a romantic headcanon:
Simón is the most romantic guy ever, big gestures, serenades with original songs, home cooked candle lit dinners, picnics on the beach, stargazing on the countryside, the works
Nina is a shy little thing, but she’s also a poet at heart, so she’ll say the most beautiful things in private, she also loves to hold hands while out together, not only because she’s very physically affectionate and touch starved but also because it keeps her grounded, and she loves to fall asleep cuddling too
Gastón is more of a personal gestures kind of guy, his demonstrations are very specific to them and their relationship
Ámbar is a very protective girlfriend, she will go to battle with anyone who breathes something mean about her boyfriend, and her smiles, seeing her smiling is a luxury, a privilege, if she smiles at you, you are blessed, and if you wipe that smile off her face, there’ll be hell to pay
😭 a headcanon about the worst thing that happened to them:
For Simón, probably when his grandma, the one who helped raise him, his siblings and all his cousins, died, he was on tour when he got the news, it was awful
For Nina it wasn’t a specific moment, but the year before her parents got divorced, they were at the height of their marital problems, every day she came home to a fight, true nightmare material
For Gastón, I’d say it was when he got the news of Matteo’s accident from his father, he was heartbroken, not only that he couldn’t do anything because he couldn’t just drop his studies to go back home and because of the distance, but also because none of their friends had thought to tell him that his brother was in the hospital
For Ámbar it was definitely her first skating showcase/competition, when she saw that Sharon wasn’t on the stands, cheering her on
😇 a headcanon about their religion or lack thereof:
Simón was raised catholic, church every week and stuff, but he never really cared about that stuff, preferring to enjoy the life he has
Nina is a science and facts kind of girl, but she can appreciate all the art that came from the church and loves studying every religion she can get her
Gastón wasn’t raised particularly religion, and is a known atheist, but he loves visiting churches to see the architecture and history of it all
Ámbar has some bad memories of forcibly being taken to church because Sharon thought it was a good look to raise her christian
💔 An angsty headcanon:
Simón bakes a cake with her recipe and puts a candle on it to blow it out and sings the song she used to sing to him, every year on his grandmother’s birthday
Nina volunteers at a troubled youth shelter that she lived in for a few weeks when she was younger, and once she sees a young girl who’s parents’ divorce had gotten so bad, she ran away, just like she had done once, after she got home, she cried and cried until she couldn’t anymore
Gastón freaks out every time he sees an unknown number calling him because that’s how he found out his best friend almost died
Ámbar can’t brush her hair without thinking of everything her mother did to her and how she’ll never get her innocence back and then she cries
🧬 a headcanon about their family:
Simón has 6 siblings, three older, three younger, one is 35, one is 27, one is just a year older than him, one is 17, one is 13 and the youngest is 10, by the time the show begins
Both Ricardo and Ana were only children so Nina doesn’t have cousins which made her bad childhood all the more awful
I already talked about how Gastón’s mom, Catalina, is a lawmaker and his dad, Julio, is a baker, but what I didn’t mention is his little sister, Sofia, who is 6 and is the sassiest little thing anyone’s ever seen (she’s Matteo’s favorite)
Thinking about family headcanons for Ámbar is hard because her family situation is already pretty clear in the show, and I’m not a big fan of next gen stuff, but I think she, together with Simón, Luna and later Ramiro, after they get married, makes the mansion into a foster home
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
It's time again for my one true love... an ask game. Thank you for the tag @o0anapher0o! This is one I have done before and I am sure as hell not going to let that stop me from talking about myself.
How many works do you have on AO3?
143! The next big milestone will be 150 if I ever post again lol
2. What's your total AO3 word count?
436,802 holy cow that is a lot of words.
3. What fandoms do you write for?
It's DS9 all day over here right now! I have also written for Good Omens, Queen's Thief, Tales of Symphonia, and Next Gen and Lower Decks.
4. Top 5 Fics By Kudos
I'm always interested in if the answer to this has changed, because sometimes it does in unexpected ways. Confess Nothing always tops the list, but this time it's only ahead by 2 with All's Fair in Love, War, and Show Business close behind. I'm really surprised to see Personnel Review in third place, because Garak doesn't even personally show up in that one and I always got the sense TNG was much less popular. Fourth place is Lost in Translation, which is not at all surprising. But fifth place does surprise me: It Isn't Perfect (But It's Ours)! Those Good Omens fics really snuck up there while I wasn't looking. (I think Season 2 release, even if I haven't posted anything new, did drive a spike in that fandom.)
5. Do you respond to comments?
I try to and I want to but there are 200 unread comments in my inbox right now and I simply have too much ADHD to deal with that, and then I don't respond to new ones because it's overwhelming and the problem is self-perpetuating. I've read them all in my email notifications, and they've made me smile and laugh and experience great joy! But I am overwhelmed about the idea of trying to reply.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Last time I answered this I hadn't ever written something with an angsty ending, but now with certainty I can say it's Like a pain, the truth is mine in the Terok Nor AU, which is all about Garak's developing addiction to the wire and exploration of self-harm to trigger it. Second place goes to I'd Like to Give Up Now and When All Kindness Has Gone. The interesting thing about all of these, though, is that they exist within the larger framework of what the reader already knows will happen next in canon, which is Garak will survive and make connections with others on the station and it isn't the end of the world that it feels like for him. So does that still count?
7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Not coincidentally, I'd probably say it's my two most kudos'd DS9 fics, Confess Nothing and Lost in Translation.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
The closest I've ever come to hate is someone commenting that I had a major tonal shift in the middle of a piece of writing, and they were correct. I have found the fandom to be incredibly kind, supportive, and generous.
9. Do you write smut?
SO once upon a time the answer to this was no but now we are inching our way towards a yes. I made a sock puppet account where I could experiment with writing more explicitly (it's lovely to have so many user subscriptions but also feels like a lot of pressure) and what I've found is there's simply not much more explicit that I'll go, but I'm trying.
10. Craziest crossover
The entirety of Thief Space 9, and of those specifically probably Spaceships and Gods.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of. Again, lovely fandom, beautiful people! I also have a standing policy that my works are a sandbox anyone can play in, so I have had remixes and things inspired by my work, but that's done with full permission and people bringing their own creative twists.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
No, that's the last thing outstanding on my 'bucket list', so to speak! My dreams were to have my fic inspire art, other fic, podfic, and translation, and we've achieved all but the last.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Yes and I'm a very bad co-author because there's a fic that's sat unfinished for actual literal years now and I'm not doing my part to finish it.
14. All time favorite ship?
I think I have an all-time favorite ship dynamic, which is any ship where one character could with both deep love and complete sincerity say to the other "I hate you, you're the worst person I know" as a form of foreplay.
15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
I fear we're living in a world where I never finish anything ever again, but in particular there's one fic I posted to aforementioned sock puppet account specifically because I thought it might get permanently abandoned and I didn't want people knowing it was me if that happened because I am a coward
16. What are your writing strengths?
You know, the answer to this has changed! It used to just be dialogue, but now I'd like to think it's also my willingness to experiment with form/format and use even little moments to poke at big questions.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Look, I'm never going to be a writer of lush descriptions. We've come a long way, but settings are actually the worst.
18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?
Hasn't changed- translate it if your POV character would understand it, leave it untranslated if they wouldn't. The point of how you write is to communicate information and convey emotion and whatever else to your audience, not to show off your conlang abilities.
19. First fandom you wrote in?
I think I've shared this before, but I wrote a self-insert ship fic with Shadow the Hedgehog for my older sibling for Sonic Adventure 2 Battle when I was far too young.
20. Favorite fic you've written?
I can't answer this. This is a cruel question. Um, at this exact moment in time, possibly Comparative Literature?
Well, there's more information than anyone wanted or needed, but now you have it! You all should do it too so I look slightly less narcissistic. @hellostuffedtiger @ectogeo-rebubbles @ernmark but also you know, anyone who wants to! Whenever I have to tag I immediately forget every single person who exists on this website.
5 notes
·
View notes
Note
hello 💗 wishing you a lovely valentines :)
heres my confession. ..... i wanna put myself out there more.. ive been honestly feeling like a baby, doing badly at college, jobless, aimless, inexperienced compared to friends my age, so..i just want to have more experiences this year, a job,going to places events bars local art stuff etc...., and hopefully those new environments can bring me closer to also new people ....:)
i feel profoundly for my friends..sometimes its sad to have to 'define ' "platonic" vs"romantic".... Do you know what i mean..? Its a beautiful feeling that i do not want to dismiss inside me even if i know expressing that is a whole diff thing
wishing U the best . Ur blog reminds me to stay hopeful. Its so easy to turn cynical.haha. sorry for the word vomit .... i wanna listen to people better too so it feels selfis of me to share so much but i am grateful for your openness to anon confessions i assume you feel similarly about sharing ?
^ yet you always give off a very, genuine interest in others , and thats so valuable
speaking is very hard , saying anything to another person, so i realized when someone shared something, that must be really delicate & Treasurable. Something to take with care
Its always worth it 2 reach out 2 others i think we need community more than ever. Much love 2U and anyone reading this . SPREAD THE LOVE.💗🌍🌎🌏💗💘🩷❤️
- 🌊💫🌙☀️🩷🌈
thankyou for this <3 no need to apologize for "word vomit" , it's all valuable to me, this is the reason i asked for confessions in the first place ^^ every day i am endlessly grateful for the tumlblr anonymous message feature & the way it empowers people to speak in a way that transcends their personal identity. to be able to facilitate a place where ppl trust me with their secrets & i trust u all enough to be able to leave anon turned on without fear of receiving hate. its not st i take for granted <333 i am overwhelmingly interested in everyone on earth lol. i want to help preserve traces of humanity for future gens.
please don't feel it's se;lfish to express yourself! especially when someone is asking you to :] people want to know more about you, im sure. its great to hear ur motivated to put urself out there. "inexperience" is a subjective thing, it's all relative.. for example i never went to college & im a 30 yr old neet w no money, compared to people my age im waaaay "behind", however i feel deeply experienced in emotional matters, death, love, spirituality, etc ! Everyone has something unique to bring to the table.
and dont be afraid to love your friends as fiercely as you would love a romantic partner. treasure them!! friendships can be so freeing when you love each other vastly but there's less expectations & pressure than a romantic partnership. Community is the answer to so many of the world's pronblems rn, we can start small in our own lives to help encourage it. even just by blogging together ^-^
thankyou for this awresome and thoughtful confession anon.. have a wonderful valentines<333333333
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Exeunt, Pursued by Goose
Fandom: Resident Evil
Characters: William Birkin, Albert Wesker, Horrible Goose
Rating: Gen
Summary: It’s a beautiful night in the Arklay Laboratory, and you are a horrible goose.
Except not really because this isn’t in second person. William Birkin gets harassed by a goose at work. That’s it, that’s the fic.
By all rights, William should have gone home to bed hours ago. It was 4 am, labor day weekend, and for once he had the lab all to himself. He could work in peace without fretting about which of his underlings might be a spy, or an Umbrella agent, or plotting to kill him and steal his research for themselves.
Absorbed as he was in his blissful thoughts of science, he failed to notice the soft rattling clank from the far side of the lab. The two mechanical clicks that followed did not grab his attention either. It was the beep, high-pitched and irritating as most beeps were, which pierced the haze of his research-high and made him finally look up and squint uncertainly at the wall.
William slowly looked around himself, double-checking that he was, in fact, alone in the room. No other living soul came to sight. He followed the noise over to the counter where the autoclaves sat, next to the sinks. One of the machines had been activated. He could hear the buzzing hiss of air being pumped out from its chamber as he approached. These machines could not turn themselves on. They were state of the art equipment, maintained with great care. He had never heard of one glitching in such a way. Fully automated though they may be, it still took a human hand to latch the doors closed and press the start button.
He shut the machine off and stepped away as the door popped open. The interior had not yet begun to heat, so it was safe for him to check the chamber. There were no materials inside. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected. No one else was in the lab with him, and he hadn’t started sterilizing anything.
Yet the machine had activated. Strange.
Returning to his work station, he banished the odd incident from his mind and went back to his analysis. The lab was quiet. Too quiet. It took him a minute of distracted fussing with his notebook to realize the issue: the centrifuge, which should have been running for another 3 minutes at least, had stopped whirring. He darted over to it. The machine looked in perfect order, except it had become unplugged.
Behind him, a tray of beakers clinked against each other, as if something had knocked into the table. William whirled around. There was no one there either.
He held very still, just breathing, only his eyes shifting as he scanned the lab a third time for some explanation to these disruptions. When no explanation presented itself, he straightened his spine with all the practiced authority of a man who had spent over half a decade bossing around people three to four times his age, and he called out, “Alright. I’m sure you think you’re very funny. We’ll see how funny you think this is after being put on Hunter cleanup duty for a month. Come out here!”
Nothing but the hum of the florescent lights answered his demand. Maybe the lab was just haunted. He had never before now had to examine his own personal beliefs on the existence of ghosts. Right now, at four am when he was alone in a laboratory where a lot of people had died badly in agony, seemed like a bad time to start.
William grit his teeth, plugged the centrifuge back in, reset the timer, and tried to get back to work. It was a fool’s errand. He was too thoroughly distracted now. The momentum of thought that had been powering him through to the small hours of the morning had crashed against a metaphorical wall and slid down into a metaphorical ditch. He threw down his pencil with a growl of frustration and then fisted his hands in his hair. He’d been so close to a breakthrough, he could feel it--
“GRONNK”
The horrible noise shook the ceiling. William backpeddled from his station fast, checking his hip on the table behind him. Every hair on the back of his neck and arms stood at attention. He heard a lot of horrible, bestial noises in his line of work. Usually, he knew what was causing the noise, and had a solid barrier of glass between himself and it. This noise was uniquely terrifying.
A quick succession of thwap sounds, like something was slapping against the inside of a metal vent, scurried across the ceiling. “GRONNK,” the unseen menace bellowed once more.
There was something up there. In the vents. William did the only sensible thing: he grabbed the lab phone, receiver and all, hauled it under a table with him, and dialed Albert’s pager. Several tense minutes passed with him huddled there, flinching at every burst of noise from the ceiling above.
When the lab phone rang, he jammed his knuckles on the receiver in his haste to grab it.
“Do you realize what time it is?” Albert began, his voice coarse from sleep. It must have been a rare night when Albert was actually getting some rest. If William were a good person, he might feel bad about interrupting that.
William was not a good person. All he felt was panicked irritation that a groggy Albert would take longer to get here.
“Albert there’s something in the vents,” William bit out in a rush. A distant, echoing GRONK of agreement made him flinch. “You have to get down here immediately.”
“It’s 4:30 am. Why are you still at the lab?” Albert retorted.
“What are you talking about? We stay overnight at the lab all the time.”
“You’re not 15 anymore, William, you’re going to destroy your health.”
William bit back a sharp retort about the two facts that Albert was just as bad, and that being barely over 20 gave him no place to start lecturing him like an old mother.
“You know what’s even worse for my health? The thing loose in the vents!”
Wesker grumbled something away from the receiver. William only caught the words “LSD again,” and bristled. He was most certainly not on drugs, nor was he hallucinating. Probably.
“Would you just get down here already?”
“If it’s so pressing, why don’t you call security?”
“I don’t need those buffoons trampling about my laboratory. Just get back to Arklay!”
“That’s what they’re--” Albert bit off a sigh. “Fine. I’ll come and get you.”
“I don’t need you to come get me I need you to--”
The phone clicked and blared a dial tone at him. William scowled at it and slammed it back down on the receiver. He hated it when Albert did that.
Albert had gone into town for the long weekend, William remembered belatedly. Which meant he’d have to either catch the next staff train or find a helicopter to get him here. William drew his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them. He was in for a long wait.
***
An unknown amount of time later, the laboratory door banged open, startling William out of a light doze.
“William?” Albert called.
Will poked his head out, looking to where Albert stood by the door and simmered with barely repressed temper.
“Keep it down!” William hissed.
Albert gave him a singularly unimpressed look. William, immune to all of Albert’s cutting expressions after long years of knowing him, ignored it completely. He was more interested in Albert’s uncharacteristically rumpled appearance. Albert’s hair hung in a messy fall to one side, his shirt was buttoned crooked, and--were those dark splotches lining his neck bite marks?
Ah. Now William understood both why Albert had been in bed, and why he was so irritated to be called away from it. He had a sinking feeling that Albert was going to make him pay for this later.
“Have you been hiding under there this entire time?” Albert asked him. He did not bother to keep his voice down.
“Of course I’ve been hiding, there’s an unknown creature loose in my labs and I--” William broke off. He’d reached down to grab the phone, to bring it with him, when his hands brushed only empty floor tile. He groped around with both hands, hunting for it, finding nothing. Finally he looked down. The phone was gone. “Wh--where did the phone go?”
Albert furrowed his brow at him. He glanced around the lab, still standing in the open completely unconcerned, uncomprehending of their dire predicament.
“You left it in the sink,” Albert observed.
“I did not put it in the sink! I have not left this spot since I used it to call you.”
Albert crossed the room to the lab sink, reached down, and pulled the phone out. He held the phone aloft and looked back at William, tilting his head down so William could see the baleful glare of his pale eyes over his sunglasses.
“I didn’t put it there!” William repeated.
His friend put the phone down with more force than necessary, earning a distressed ‘clink’ from the device. He strode over to William, bent down, and seized William’s chin, pulling his face forward and tilting it back so he could examine William’s eyes.
“What have you taken recently.”
“I’m not on anything, I haven’t--” William began, and stopped himself. Even he knew better than to argue when Albert’s voice took that flat tone. “Amphetamines.”
“And?”
“Nothing else! Maybe some caffeine. A lot of caffeine. I’m not tripping, Al, there’s really something in the--”
“GRONNK.”
The noise was even more horrible than he remembered. William jerked out of Albert’s grip and backed up under the table while Albert slowly raised his head towards the ceiling.
He heard that ‘thwapthwapthwap’ noise, banging around the vent, and shrank in on himself with a shudder. Albert would know what to do. It would all be okay now that Albert was here. If he told himself that enough, maybe it would come true.
“What on Earth...?”
And Albert, brave, handsome, stupid Albert, immediately climbed up on the table. William poked his head out again and watched in horror as his friend reached up for the vent cover.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, reaching up and tugging on Albert’s pant leg. “Get down here!”
“I need to see what we’re dealing with,” Albert said, as if it were the most logical course in the world instead of fucking suicide.
“The second you stick your head in there it’s going to rip your face off!”
Albert only scoffed at him. He produced a flashlight from somewhere and shoved both it and his head in through the opening. William was only slightly resentful that Albert was tall enough to do so.
“GRONK.” Thwap-thwap-thwap-thwap-thwap.
“It’s very fast,” Albert observed. “I didn’t get a good look at it.” He reached up and tapped at the underside of the vents, trying to coax his doom back to him with the sound. There was another series of thwap-thwap-thwaps, moving away from them. Albert ducked back down.
“I need to get some bread.”
“YOU’RE GOING TO FEED IT?” William hissed incredulously.
“We need to lure it out of hiding,” Wesker explained patiently, as if to a 5 year old.
“No, we need to kill it and get out of here.”
“I can’t kill it if I can’t see it, William.”
“But...” William trailed off. He could not think of a good counterargument.
“It’s probably just an animal. A B.O.W. wouldn’t be so shy.”
“No normal animal would ever make that demon noise!”
“You’d be surprised.”
His best friend was an idiot, and it was a miracle he’d survived this long in Umbrella labs. William had no choice but to follow as Albert made his way to the break room. Even if he had lost his mind, Albert was still a strong idiot, with quick reflexes and good aim. And hopefully a gun. He better have brought a gun.
William paced in fretful circles around the table while Albert rooted through the break room fridge. Every now and then he paused, flinching, at a distant “Gronnk!”
“Crackhorn’s still got a piece of cake in here,” Albert said.
“We’re not giving that creature cake,” William protested. Mostly because he’d been planning to steal that cake for himself, later. The next time he remembered to eat. When had he eaten last?
“How long has this paper bag been sitting in the back?”
“Mmm...July?”
A crinkle, as Wesker tentatively worked the top open.
“Better not,” Wesker decided. “If it doesn’t already have a mutation, feeding it this may give it one.”
William didn’t answer. He’d been distracted by a soft rustle behind him, and some very soft plip-plops. When he turned, he saw only a stack of innocent boxes and the break room sink. The sink was running.
“Was the sink on when we came in?” William asked, suspicious.
“Possibly. You know the plumbing down here is older than we are.”
It seemed a plausible enough explanation, yet William could not help feeling unnerved. Perhaps he was just on edge. He went over to turn the faucet off. An ominous gurgling from the pipes was his only warning before a spray of water spat out from the nearby valve, showering him in tepid water. William yelped, backpedaling. He blinked stupidly at the water arcing from the pipe.
“As I said,” Albert remarked dryly, “Old plumbing.”
He was laughing at William. He might not be doing it out loud, but William heard it all the same. He leveled a glare at his friend and kept glaring as Albert approached and, gingerly, reached behind the spray of water to turn a valve shut. The deluge slowly petered out.
Albert smirked at him and walked off. Growling and cursing under his breath, William went to go dig some paper towels out of the cabinet. He shrugged his lab coat off and dabbed at the uncovered front of his shirt where the spray had gotten through.
On the other side of the room, Albert’s smirk melted into a frown.
“Where did the cake go?” he asked.
“Well I don’t know, maybe it’s old plumbing,” William replied waspishly. He mopped at his face and tried to wring out his dripping hair.
“It was right here on the bottom shelf.” Albert pointed in the open fridge.
“Maybe you hallucinated the cake.”
“If you don’t have anything useful to say, then be quiet.”
William sniffed disdainfully. He finished drying off the worst of the water in silence while Albert contemplated the open fridge. Finally Albert reached in for something, his head briefly disappearing inside the belly of the machine.
Out in the hall, something far too close for comfort loudly went “HONK.”
Albert and William both jumped, Albert hitting his head on the roof of the fridge. Albert jerked his head out of the fridge, both hands cradling his head and eyes squeezed shut. William immediately climbed up on top of the table.
“It’s outside! The demon is right outside!”
“It’s not a demon, it’s some kind of bird.” Albert kicked the fridge closed. He stalked over to the open door, ignoring William’s yell, and came to a stop just outside the break room. His expression was incredulous as he stared down the hall.
“It’s a goose.”
“A goose?”
“Yes. The horrible monster running around your lab, who you have been hiding from for several hours, is a goose.”
Albert definitely would have been laughing if he weren’t still smarting from hitting his head.
“Geese are horrible monsters,” William defended himself.
“They are just birds.”
“Spoken like a man who was never been chased through a park by a flock of angry geese as a kid.”
Albert did not grace that with a response. In a practiced motion, he drew a handgun from under his coat and sank into a firing stance.
“Wh--don’t shoot it!” William squeaked. He scrambled down from his perch on the table. Albert looked at him.
“Do you want to let a large bird run loose in the labs?” he asked.
“No. I want to catch the little monster and submit it as a test subject.”
“It’s a wild animal,” Albert said. “God knows what parasites or diseases it already has. We can’t get any useful experiment data out of such an unknown quantity.”
“I disagree. It could give us a clearer picture of how the virus will interact with wildlife in a real world situation.”
Albert stared at him for a long moment.
“You just want to take revenge on it because it scared you.”
The accusation was ludicrous, suggesting a ridiculous amount of pettiness from him, a grown man, and--as it happened--he was absolutely correct. William managed not to fidget under the blank stare of Albert’s shades. It was amazing how judgmental Albert managed to look without twitching a muscle.
“I’ve had to deal with the budget long enough to not turn my nose up at a free resource,” William tried.
“You have never thought about our budget for more than three seconds,” Albert retorted. Still, he put away the gun with a put-upon sigh. “Fine. We’ll go catch it.”
***
The two men followed the plip-plaps of little webbed feet down the corridor to the storage room, where they arrived just in time to watch a small white body vanish into a wall vent that was conveniently goose-height. He wondered where the vent cover had gotten to.
“How did a goose get all the way down here?” William asked.
“An excellent question. We may need security to check the facility for holes.”
“I’ll bet it’s corporate sabotage.”
“Sabotage,” Albert repeated, voice desert dry. “By a dastardly enemy agent who is fussing with our plumbing and stealing cake.”
“AND making an attempt on my life.”
“By unleashing...” Albert paused for effect, “a goose.”
“A goose loose in a laboratory. Don’t you realize what pandemonium it could have unleashed?”
Albert hummed in consideration.
They entered the storage room. It was, as usual, cold and foul smelling, a side effect of sharing vents with the morgue. A little white form darted among the shelving units and hid among the boxes. Albert moved towards it while Will hung back, watching.
He didn’t get a clear look at what happened next. Albert approached the pile of boxes where a feathered tail was poking out, then there was a blur of motion, a yell, an angry honk, and the next thing he knew Albert was on his ass with his quarry irritably flapping its wings several feet away.
Albert had lost his sunglasses somehow in the brief scuffle. Groaning, he swiped them up from the floor and put them back on. Except they weren’t the same sunglasses he’d been wearing before. Somehow they’d been swapped with a pair of novelty heart-shaped sunglasses. William bit back his laughter with a truly herculean effort of will. Albert did not appear to have noticed the difference.
“William, stay right where you are and don’t let it escape. I’m going to drive it towards you.”
All mirth left him at this order.
“What? You want me to catch it?”
“You’re the one who doesn’t want me to shoot it. It’s just a bird, William.”
“It is not just a bird, it is a vicious beast with a long, sharp beak.”
But Albert was already shooing the goose in William’s direction. It was a bold beast, only waddling ahead just enough to keep out of Albert’s reach, honking softly as it went.
William steeled himself. He dealt with far more dangerous creatures every day; he should not be so cowed by a common goose! Of course, those dangerous creatures he worked on were always sedated, strapped to a table, or caged.
The bird ran by him. He grabbed it around the middle and hauled it up off the ground. It made a horrific racket about this, honking and kicking and beating its wings in William’s face. He did his best to keep hold of it with his arms straight out, holding it as far away from his face as he could.
The goose’s long neck arched back and the sharp beak opened, revealing the rows of teeth that lined the back of its throat. This was a horror of nature’s own design, one William had found inspiring in the past.
The second tooth-studded maw that came out from that throat and the spindly bat-like claws that emerged from under the wing joints were not natural. The low, hissing GRONNK noise that came out of its mouth didn’t sound normal either.
William shrieked at a pitch that would bother dogs and threw the bird away as hard as he could. It hit a shelf and stuck there, clinging with its claws, hissing.
William bolted.
The honking followed him into the square hallway. In his panic, William had not thought to close the storage room door behind him, and now he was being chased by the mutant goose.
Why did he not have a gun? Why in the name of all seven hells did he not carry a gun? Never again. He’d be armed to the teeth at all times from now on.
Round and round the central complex it chased him, the slapping of its feet gradually gaining on him, the horrible honking echoing wildly off the concrete walls. When he’d made a full circuit and was passing storage once more, he saw Albert standing in the still open door with his arms crossed over his chest. He was leaning casually against the door frame.
“What are you doing? SHOOT IT!” William bellowed as he ran by.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Albert’s drawl followed him down the hall. “We wouldn’t want to waste a perfectly good test subject, would we?”
“Albert!”
He made another lap, and Albert was still standing in the same place. He had not moved a muscle.
“Are you going to do anything or are you just going to stand there and laugh at me?”
“I want to see how long it takes the penny to drop for a genius who got his virology doctorate at 15.”
William had no idea what he was talking about, and no breath left to yell about it.
It took another three laps and one internal vow to spare some time for cardio exercise before William remembered that geese could not open doors. In his defense, he was panicking. He ducked into the next room he saw, which happened to be the dissection room, and slammed the door behind himself. His back collided with the steel, reinforcing the barrier and allowing himself to sag while he struggled to catch his breath. The door rattled against his back with muffled angry honks.
Minutes passed. The rattling stopped, and the honking drew further away. William peered through the door’s dirty window out into the hallway gloom, searching for a white shape. He heard gunshots, a burst of garbled swearing, honking, flapping wings and hissing, followed by two more gunshots, and then it all went quiet. Either Albert had gotten the goose, or the goose had gotten him. William drummed his fingers against the door. When neither Albert nor the goose appeared in his view, he lost patience and decided to go check for himself. If Albert was dead, then...then he’d try to grab his gun and make for the stairs. He should have run for the stairs to begin with, if only he’d been thinking clearly.
He swung the door open slowly, wincing as the hinge creaked. Strain his ears though he might, he could not detect the plapping of goose feet. Instead he caught a strain of low conversation. Instantly he relaxed. Surely the goose must be dead, if Albert were talking.
Following the voices to the base of the stairs, he came across the bizarre tableau of Albert speaking with some random security guard, who was holding the goose under one arm. The goose was not even struggling.
“....grew up on a farm,” the guard was saying, and he looked sheepish at the admission. “Ah, hello Dr. Birkin. You’re here late as always I see.”
William silently stared back at him in horror. This idiot probably didn’t even realize what it was he was holding.
“You did a fine job. Put it in one of the high security specimen cages,” Albert instructed him.
The guard tipped his hat and walked off towards specimen containment.
“He’s going to die,” William said once the door had closed behind the man’s back. “Did you see it, Albert? It’s infected. It’s going to tear open like...like...have you seen that new horror movie, with the researchers in Antarctica?”
“You expect me to believe you’ve gone to see a movie in the past 5 years?” he asked.
“No--I mean, yes, why wouldn’t I see movies? The point is--”
“You never leave the lab unless someone drags you away kicking and screaming.”
“--the point is, it’s going to erupt out of that bird carcass and eat that man’s insides and wear him like a cheap Halloween costume, do you understand? Why are you casually walking in the other direction?”
“Because we are going to the security room, where we can lock rooms down remotely if anything happens.”
“Oh.”
Albert rolled his eyes. William didn’t need to see them to know that eye-rolling had happened, he just knew. He could feel it.
“So who did the dragging?”
“Huh?”
“To get you out of the lab. I refuse to believe you went to a movie alone.”
“That’s none of your business,” William told him firmly. He was not flushing.
“It’s Annette, isn’t it. I knew you were sweet on her.”
“Well.” William glanced to the side. He didn’t know why he was being so cagey about this. It wasn’t against company policy to date coworkers, after all. “Are you going to tell me who left those bites all over your neck?”
Albert slapped a palm to the side of his neck, feeling around the marks, a fierce scowl on his face.
“I told him to stop doing that,” he muttered under his breath before he swept off into the security room.
And that was how William found out Albert Wesker was bi.
***
To Do List:
Unplug centrifuge
Turn on Autoclave
Put phone in sink
Drive Dr. Birkin under the table
Steal cake
Make Wesker wear the wrong sunglasses
Trap a scientist in the dissection room
Kill and devour 3 lab assistants
#resident evil#horrible goose#My fic#tw: implied drug use#canon-typical monstrosity#this is also up on my Ao3 if you'd rather read it there#Albert Wesker#William Birkin
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
2023 in Music - My Top 5 Favourite Albums
5. LONELY THE BRAVE – What We Do to Feel
The alt-rockers from Cambridge, UK have completed their reinvention after their post-sophomore record shake-ups with what is arguably their best album to date, a canny mixture of moody, anthemic guitar-heavy muscle and haunting introspective beauty. Enthusiastically gruff vocalist Mark Trotter definitely seems to have really earned his place now after making an impressive debut on 2021’s similarly excellent The Hope List, taking what was already a strong band producing great music and helping to transform them into something truly special.
Standout tracks: Long Way, The Lens, Our Sketch Out, Victim, In the Well, Eventide, Unseen, The Bear
4. HOLDING ABSENCE – The Noble Art of Self Destruction
Looks like it’s third album’s the charm for one of the very best bands to have emerged from the 2010’s second-gen post-hardcore alt rock scene (which also produced my absolute favourites of all, Don Broco … but that’s a different story). Following up in FINE FORM INDEED from their already MAGNIFICENT second album The Greatest Mistake of My Life, Cardiff’s (no longer) best kept musical secret have crafted a streamlined powerhouse of a record that’s all killer/no filler, perfectly showcasing their ubiquitous double-threat of blistering guitars and lead singer Lucas Woodland’s spectacular, nakedly honest vocals.
Standout tracks: Head Prison Blues, A Crooked Melody, False Dawn, Scissors, Honey Moon, Her Wings, These New Dreams, The Angel In the Marble
3. HOZIER – Unreal Unearth
The rightly beloved Irish singer-songwriter has returned with what is arguably HIS VERY BEST record to date, a brilliant ever-shifting musical landscape incorporating subtle, spellbinding Celtic-flavoured gentleness, ear-wormy pop-accented bops and bravely inventive experimentation. The result is the year’s most effortlessly SOOTHING musical offering, which has done wonders to cheer me up every time I’ve put it on after a rough day. But I still miss “the woo” …
Standout tracks: De Selby (Parts 1 & 2), Francesca, I, Carrion (Icarian), Eat Your Young, Damage Gets Done (featuring Brandi Carlile), Who We Are, Butchered Tongue, Anything But, Abstract (Psychopomp), Unknown / Nth, First Light
2. ENTER SHIKARI – A Kiss For the Whole World
The craziest rock band to have EVER come out of St Albans continues to blow me away with their fiendishly eclectic mixture of edgy post-hardcore grit and anarchic electronic-edged musical MADNESS. This is BY FAR their most streamlined record to date (I can’t believe it’s little more than HALF AN HOUR LONG!), but in some ways also their most rewardingly EXPANSIVE, Rou Reynolds and co. once again playing in an arena of massive themes and making us think as much as they make us ROCK OUT. More of this please, lads!
Standout tracks: A Kiss For the Whole World x, (pls) Set Me On Fire, It Hurts, Dead Wood, Bloodshot, Bloodshot (Coda), Goldfish, Giant Pacific Octopus (I Don’t Know You Anymore)
1. SLEEP TOKEN – Take Me Back to Eden
It’s fascinating to think that just a year ago I’d barely even HEARD of Sleep Token, and certainly wasn’t at all FAMILIAR with anything they’d done. Then they dropped The Summoning and everything changed … less than 12 months later this is BY FAR the best record I’ve heard ALL YEAR, and as far as I’m concerned anyone who DOESN’T rate it at the very top of their own 2023 list clearly wasn’t paying attention (I’m looking as YOU, Kerrang!). The mysterious Vessel and his equally unknowable fellow collective have crafted a work of unrivalled MAJESTY here, a little over an hour of pure sonic MAGIC which constantly flips between the hardest possible progressive metal and a dizzying myriad of other genres from its attention-grabbing opening to the heart-wrenching closer. The end result is not only the best album of the year but a very strong candidate indeed for, potentially, my album of the DECADE. Worship indeed …
Standout tracks: Chokehold, The Summoning, Granite, Vore, Ascensionism, Are You Really Okay?, The Apparition, Take Me Back to Eden, Euclid
The ones that didn’t quite make the cut:
STONESIDE. – God of the Mountain (the Texan prog metalheads amaze us once again with their long-awaited debut album); PVRIS – Evergreen (multitalented musical genius Lynn Gunn delivers her most eclectic and full-on electronic alt-rock record to date); TESSERACT – War of Being (the latest offering from the endlessly inventive Milton Keynes prog metal maniacs just might be their best yet, and it’s DEFINITELY their most memorable); BABYMETAL – The Other One (quite possibly the greatest metal band to ever come out of Japan have done it again with another stone-cold banger of a record); STAIND – Confessions of the Fallen (one of the greatest secret weapons of the American post-grunge era makes their long-awaited return after a 12-year absence with one of their best albums to date)
Honourable mention:
EXPLORING BIRDSONG – Dancing In the Face of Danger
Much like with Sleep Token before them, I was genuinely ignorant of this emerging prog rock band from Liverpool up until mid-November, when Kerrang! Radio introduced me to them through their haunting cover of Deftones’ Diamond Eyes. Then I did what I always do, see what else they’ve got knocking about on YouTube, and within two videos I was LOST. Their second EP is completely fucking AMAZING, a magnificent musical adventure of pure imagination and experimental GENIUS which goes a long way to prove you don’t actually NEED guitars to rock out, lead-singer and pianist Lynsey Ward doing a genuinely beautiful job with just her keys. All five tracks are absolute FIRE, but the undeniable standouts are Bear the Weight and the killer closer, No Longer We Lie.
#2023 in music#lonely the brave#what we do to feel#holding absence#the noble art of self destruction#hozier#unreal unearth#enter shikari#a kiss for the whole world#sleep token#take me back to eden#exploring birdsong#dancing in the face of danger
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
Sorry for sending so many negative asks and you don’t have to answer the last two, or if you want to you can answer what I said about Gen Z on here. I had a hard year last year and can honestly say watching the Elvis movie in theaters, Austin’s great performance, and getting into Elvis helped me get through it. It just sucks going online for the past year and reading nothing but hateful and negative comments about Elvis and Austin on the internet, especially from holier than thou Gen Zers who have no problem stanning people who are way worse :/
going to begin with this screenshot i saved the other day, that truly just encapsulates a lot to me:
also this gif my friend chelsea shared with me of el banishing haters for us. 😊 begone!
i have a lot to say to this and am unsure where to begin, so allow me to start here:
I had a hard year last year and can honestly say watching the Elvis movie in theaters, Austin’s great performance, and getting into Elvis helped me get through it. <- first and foremost, WITH ALL MY HEART, this is the point. this is what's important. that experience belongs to you, and it's BEAUTIFUL and meaningful, and there's nothing that can or should take that away from you. i am SO glad you had the film and austin's stunning performance, and then discovering more in e himself to help you. the value in that is unbelievably special, and it's unique in all of us who discover that solace in art and hold onto it in our own ways. the film has come to mean more to me than i can express in silly little posts here, and i haven't had that for a long time.
i'm so sorry you were having a hard time, i understand in my own way. i didn't expect to even make it through last year myself. there is a particular depth of connection and some measure of healing that came with this that i can't explain except to say it exists on some spiritual level. idk if you were here when i wrote a post on the night of the grammys, but there's a significant part of myself that i'd been without for a long time, and maybe didn't even fully know was missing, that e almost immediately set back. as if that broken piece of stained glass mosaic was there, but had been knocked out of place, and when it was restored, the picture was more whole again, and i could breathe a bit easier. like a bridge over troubled water. you don't know what's lost 'til you find it! i sincerely hope that you're doing better now <333
i have to cut this because it's long. 💗
i don't know where exactly you're reading negative comments, maybe i've just been very fortunate to avoid them since i've encountered them so rarely and block the few i've seen immediately (and anyone who has anything negative to say about aus is deranged on some level, when he's unequivocally humble and kind in every interaction he has. the only things i've seen about him are inane voice comments, and not only is that not funny, and was never funny, it's also clear anyone who thinks that has never listened to a clip of elvis speaking for two seconds in their life, as they sound nothing alike! i hate that something which should only have been joyful and made him feel proud has made him self-conscious because the media can't ignore trolls on the internet. austin is such a genuine soul). regarding elvis himself, he was certainly a complex human being, but he was unquestionably a GOOD one. it takes so little time to discover exactly who he was and all that he stood for, all he did.
it's like i read a story yesterday about how, when he performed at the houston astrodome, the owner told him he didn't want black people onstage and to leave the sweet inspirations behind, and elvis was like, absolutely not, they're included or i walk, period. and then he had had them driven in a car around the arena so that everyone could see them. it's such a typical story for him (standing up for people he loved and what he believed in with a delightful dose of king shit defiant behavior). it's why it's so easy to dispel ANY claim of racism because he was distinctly anything but, and there are countless stories recounting why.
you said: To add to my comment, I can’t stand reading most zoomers opinions of Elvis because the takes are almost always misinformed and hateful yet they worship artists like (he who shall not be named, I sent you a previous anon about him) 🤷♀️
speaking as your millennial elder sister here, i assume they either erroneously believe he somehow mistreated people of color (could not be less true), "stole" his music and/or misappropriated culture (absolutely not the case, and if anything, he succeeded in BREAKING a lot of barriers), or the situation with priscilla. i've addressed cilla before, but anyone making that into a more salacious situation than it was is not HEARING her specifically. they victimize her without listening to a word she says about the life that is HERS. about things that were in place before they got married, about the love they had for one another. they victimize her without her consent and i find that really upsetting. they're also not hearing any of the other women he was ever romantically involved with who have shared about him extensively, nor the women who were around him platonically who adored him. or they're listening to GROSS unfounded lies perpetuated by alanna nash, who i'm on record despising. did he have some ingrained patriarchal concepts? sure. he was a white man born in 1935, but none of those ideas were outrageous and it's not fair to even weigh that against our social mores in 2023, when we've been without him for 46 years. he had tremendous respect and love (not merely in the physical way) for women. he had tremendous respect and love for PEOPLE. i think of myrna saying elvis would've loved her just the same, no matter what color she was, because of who he was. it's infuriating for that to be taken away from him by people who don't even bother to do their research or try to spend a moment lending him compassion and understanding.
not to play the whatboutism game, but the person you mention has FAR worse and actually credible allegations, and yet that gets waved off all the time. i could name...a number of very famous men who have concrete abuse allegations or stories of very dark/disturbing things, and it simply gets ignored. i could mention someone who's oft-revered who was also a misogynist, racist, antisemitic homophobe and gets very little criticism. it's crazy to me that elvis gets any of those accusations when there's documented proof of his charitable work for black people (and literally growing up with and attending church with and learning alongside of and befriending and defending!), for jewish people (including being a shabbos goy as a child!), his generosity and care for others, and so on. someone sent me an anon the other day saying they feel like people online hold him to an unfair double standard (and they referenced a different famous musician who is far more problematic), which i responded to here. the fact of the matter is, a lot of it is rooted in caricature and parody and unfair jokes/stereotypes, some of which is incorrect judgment of elvis as a human being, some of which is this idea that anyone from the south must be stupid and racist, which is wildly unfair. remember: YOU KNOW MORE THAN THEM. i KNOW it hurts and is depressing and feels bad to not be able to fight back and defend him and prove his worth to everyone who discounts him, but that's on them and they don't get it, which is their loss. tbh anyone who doesn't get it can fuck right off. you know what he means to you.
the thing about elvis is, he had this...all-encompassing need for connection and understanding, and there was some part of him always seeking that. be that spiritually, and in his deep faith and interest in many avenues of philosophical study/thought, or in his approach to love of any kind. he didn't want to be just one thing to people, he wanted to, in some way, be everything. which maybe is too much for anyone to strive towards, but it was in his essence. chelsea also recently told me elvis was very interested in all the different definitions of love - the greek words, storge, philia, eros, agape, etc, and i personally feel a strong connection to that because that's always captivated me too, not merely the differences, but the way they inform each other. how we express love in this world.
el having a temper or making some mistakes in his life does not negate the artistry he possessed, nor, on a much more personal level, the amount of good he did and heart and soul he shared with people. loved ones, family, romances, fans, he had this boundless sense of love.
which brings me to us. i mean it when i say i believe it would mean everything to him if he knew how many new people, ESPECIALLY young people, are discovering him and embracing him and remembering him.
going to quote chelsea again: "it's like the people who find him are the good ones, you know? the thoughtful, loyal, interesting ones who see him as a full person. which is all he ever wanted."
i believe, without question, that he would love us so much. i believe he was meant for us to find him. i believe it would touch his soul to know he's had an impact on us, or helped us make it through, or healed something in us in any way. that would be worth everything to him. and he's so alive in our hearts, and i know he's going to stay there. that's what has the meaning, that's what remains.
to repeat this post from the other day:
i was having a discussion with tam like five minutes before this tweet was posted, about the people who dismiss him or belittle him not understanding the truth of who he was, not loving him for the whole of him the way that we do, so when this was tweeted, it felt almost like a sign from the universe. no matter how loud the clamor of denial, WE know what that love truly is.
you decide where to put your love. you know what restores your spirit. that matters through everything. i believe he reached out to and moved austin for a reason, that that performance was meant to happen. and deep in my heart, i believe there's some light of his reaching back that sparks in ours.
#anonymous#letterbox#elvis presley#i was a dreamer#i love him sm :(#and ilyyyy and all my e besties. you are wonderful 💕💕💕#i keep typing burned and not shined bc of if i can dream aklfdkjlfdg#*#NOT THE MUSIC CHOICE CHANNEL PLAYING 'LET IT BE ME' AS I POST THIS he's so. haunting me everywhere! daily! i hear you hi e <3#sail on silver girl; sail on by#there must be lights burning brighter somewhere
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Emergence of a Diasporic Singular Desi Culture
I have been observing this for a while on several social media platforms and I have a theory that a singular “Desi” culture is taking shape in North America, and perhaps other diasporas. Since I haven’t had much experience with other diasporas in several years, I will only focus on this phenomenon through a North American lense.
The reason for saying is that I increasingly see young South Asians, in particular, Gen Z, make tiktoks mentioning how “our” culture is beautiful, and then proceed to show off cultural dress, cuisine, art, architecture etc. playing to a remixed Bollywood song.
The issue here is not showing appreciation, but the issue is using the singular from of culture instead of the plural — cultures.
South Asia is not a monolith, nor does it have one culture, so which culture in particular are we here appreciating? Every country, whether it would be Pakistan, India, Bangladesh, Nepal, (Southern) Tibet (controversial, I know) , The Maldives, Sri Lanka, Bhutan, and Diaspora countries like Suriname, Guyana, Belize, Trinidad & Tobago, Jamaica, Mauritius, Fiji etc. all have self-contained individual cultures that are inter-connected or unique to their own region.
These tiktoks, from my observation, show only Northern Indian cultural aspects with a heavy emphasis on Punjabi culture. Popular Tiktok dances feature Hindi and Punjabi, yet rarely any music from other states. Then again, it is called fyp for a reason. It may be the content I interact with, but then again I interact with a broad spectrum of self-stylized Desi creators on “brown tiktok”. From North to South.
Every now and then, there is legitimate criticism on limiting Desi tiktok to Hindi-Urdu and Punjabi songs where a number of videos have been circulating to test one’s “Desiness” whether you know these songs or not. Same goes for movies. If not, then you are white-washed. What about the rest, who don’t speak Hindi-Urdu or Punjabi? This is why being “Desi” is quite controversial because it means different things to different people.
Why do I think that there is singular North American Desi culture emerging? It is because Bollywood consumption plays a central role in it in making the younger generation believe that there is a such thing as one culture being portrayed in Bollywood while reality is something very different.
I as a Punjabi am used to seeing my culture being hyper-represented in Indo-Pak media. In fact, it is the culture that is used in Bollywood and Lollywood productions the most when we talk about cultural reprentation. Same for music, apart from Hindi, Punjabi is the only regional language that gets that much attention and gone worldwide – for good and bad reasons.
Home culture is very different. We all have our own home culture that we grew up in. We have our languages, our own foods, our own clothes, own histories, yet when these younger Desis present themselves to the outside world, it all dissipates and changed into this Bollywood-esque performance.
We suddenly ALL eat naan, biryani, samosein, jalebi, gulab jamun, roti and we ALL speak Hindi, wear saris, lehengas, shalwar kameezein and are ALL Indian, desi, and brown.
Yet, here I am, not knowing anything about other regional dishes other than my own which ironically is all of the above and more as a Punjabi-Pakistani. I have no idea what Gujuratis eat, no idea what Sindhis eat, I had no idea what Marathi sounded. I had no idea Bihari songs were popular. I have no idea what Assamese wear.
It disregards everything unique and hyper-focuses on Bollywood and Punjab as the source for this repackaged Desi culture. Bengali home culture, Punjabi home culture, Pashtun home culture, Tamizh home culture, Devehi home culture, Indo-Guyanese home culture, Indo-Surinamese home culture are all different environments, yet you won’t see that when you land on #browntok, instead you will see this generic brand where everyone supposedly can participate in disregarding that it leaves people out and alienizes anyone that doesn’t relate to “Desi culture”
I find it so odd that Patels are quite well represented, yet know nothing about Gujurati culture or their language other than “kemcho”. The reason why I bring this up is because the culture would be seen as foreign to the Desi-sphere and not recognizable as Desi because people views this “Desi culture” though a very narrow lense.
In a way this Desi culture is just repackaged Punjabi culture made palatable for the masses that are fixated on romanticized images of their home countries disregarding class differences, history, and culture. People don’t realize that only certain classe wore such ornamental dresses like the lehenga choli and thatvit was limited to a certain class or money and still is, yet is touted as something accessible to anyone.
Big “Indian” weddings are not the norm, they are the exception, yet still are juxtapositioned with White Weddings as being something extravagent. It only works if you or family have money.
Bottomline: this Desi singular culture does not exist outside of social media realistically because we all have our own cultural aspects that are unique. Bollywood is not an accurate and reliable cultural representation. You are not cultured by watching Bollywood movies, you are a good consumer. People need to show off their regional cultures more.
#pakistani#bangladesh#indian#southasian#brown#Desi#social media#tiktok#bhutan#sri lanka#nepal#the maldives#suriname#guyana#jamaica#indian food
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
Interview with Geoff Rickly about No Devotion and No Oblivion by Gen Handley for issue 64 of New Noise, Sep. 2022.
full text under cut
“It’s like a blessing and a curse,” explains Geoff Rickly, smiling on the Zoom window a bit sadly. “When you really love an album, you can’t wait for people to hear it… but (you’re) also set up to have your heart broken because they won’t love it as much as you do.”
“Right now, to me, it’s my favorite record in the world,” he continues. “But soon it’ll come out, and for some people, it’ll just be a blip, and (they’ll) think it’s not for me, and that’s how it is.”
The record in discussion at the moment is the second, unexpected album from No Devotion, a band that emerged from the ashes of horrible tragedy and released my favorite album of 2015. And not to stomp on Rickly’s genuine humility, but No Oblivion is much more than a blip for some, an album that many people did not think would ever get made, Rickly included. The fire reignited when guitarist Stu Richardson sent Rickly a demo for their rousing, intense first single, “Starlings.”
“I was obsessed with it,” he recalls. “I didn’t’ think I was going to do anything with it, but whenever it rained, and I’d take a cab—when people were still taking cabs in New York—I’d put it on in the back of the cab and think, ‘This is the kind of music I wish I was making right now.’”
They ruminated various plans for the song, but ultimately decided that it should be a No Devotion song after the magic they felt when they played it with guitarist Lee Gaze.
“We thought, maybe we’re not done with No Devotion yet,” Rickly says, shrugging with a big smile.
The haunting result is a refined collection of eight harmonious songs that returns to the art of the album where every single song is there, in that spot, and in that order, for a very good reason that was discussed at length.
But most importantly, it’s the first album, in nearly 30 years as an artist, that Rickly has been sober and made a piece of work with vulnerability and cobalt beauty aching from every line sang by the shadowy artist whose voice has never sounded stronger, more gripping. This is from an artist who already captivates listeners and audiences around the world, an insatiable creator whose beautiful words and melodies and screams have gotten many of a sufferer through dark times—myself included.
And while they wrote much more than eight tracks for their second record, No Devotion kept returning the original songs which were created during an intense two-week flurry of creativity when the trio reunited. (There’s also a record’s worth of 10 songs that he “loves” but kept off of No Oblivion and is still deciding what their fate will be.)
“We thought it was a really short record, but every song we added would throw off the balance… making it too long and too dark, or if we brightened it up with a big pop song like from the first record (Permanence), it didn’t fit and kind of ruined the mood.”
Rickly is mostly known for his visionary work in Thursday who is still playing shows, but not ready to create new music.
“The reason I think No Devotion kept going is because Stu and Lee and I have this really intense ability to know what each other’s thinking and push in the same direction for a song—it makes writing a real pleasure,” he says. “With Thursday, we all see it going in different directions and writing a song is like a street fight. Every single time.”
He laughs.
“So the fact that Thursday is working at all right now and playing shows and having fun and loving each other and getting along, is such a newer development,” he admits. “I wish I was joking. We all love each other, which is the crazy thing.”
What’s behind the album title and the second track, “No Oblivion” come from?
Well, we had this song first and I think a lot about this band in visual terms—for every song, there’s different projections, and I think there’s going to be a video for every song on this record… My partner’s a director, so we work on a lot of stuff together. I was thinking about how much I would love to have a song that’s just a list… a list of “nos” and see how that played out.
So that was how the song came about, and we kept on playing with versions of the album cover that were just the words for the No Oblivion song, and the graphic designer mentioned why “No Oblivion” works so well typographically is because it’s the same number of letters as No Devotion, the band name, so all there were all sorts of possibilities that opened up; we thought maybe we shouldn’t keep it as the cover art and make it the name of the record. Then we thought about what the title No Oblivion implies, and it seemed to really fit.
What does it imply for you?
A double-negative is sort of like a gesture towards the positive…so a rejection of nihilism or a rejection of death and drug use. The years before I started working on this record were pretty dark for me, and this is first music I’ve made sober. I’m almost five years in, so this a really raw experience for me.
Congratulations on five years—That’s big.
Thanks, it’s coming up in November.
Is it a lot different writing music sober? Is it harder?
I’ve heard a lot of people talk about how it’s harder to let go, but I found it to be quite the opposite for me—That for me it’s harder to reign it in. I’m feeling a lot more clearly, and I have to be careful about sculpting them into something that’s art and not just an outpouring of feeling.
We do want our art to have artifice because that’s where you lose yourself in it. There’s this idea that’s become popular in culture: for the performer to use masks so that they can lose themselves and become who they really are. I think there’s a certain element of that in lyrics and songwriting… if you can use a device or structure or something that makes it not just your incredibly specific life experience, then not only can the listener find themselves more clearly in the emotional experience—because it’s more oblique and they can find an entry point—but as a singer and as an artist, you can find yourself more clearly in it.
When we try to say exactly how we feel, I think it’s very easy to misrepresent ourselves. Whereas if we try to make it a little more oblique, then it finds us through a more subconscious route… I think, quite often, it is much more honest than being honest.
With this honesty and your sobriety, how therapeutic was making this record for you?
The most therapeutic thing for me since I got sober is being of service to people… so sponsoring other guys, setting up chairs. A lot of the most mundane tasks can become quite therapeutic when they’re done in service of something greater than yourself. So, I really found that to be my therapy. With (the album), I found it to be more therapeutic in the sense that in the past, I’ve always been quite self-conscious of my own ability… I’m known as a singer who’s tone deaf or can’t sing—it’s a criticism that I’ve heard for a lot of my life.
I don’t necessarily disagree, but I also recognize that there’s something that I communicate that seems to resonate with people and that’s why I’ve been able to do this for 25 years. There have been so many better singers than I am, technically, who don’t have careers and will never have careers. twenty-five years in popular music is like a unicorn. (laughs) It’s all about youth. I think it used to really eat me that I couldn’t put my finger on what it was I did, whether I was just incredibly lucky or if I actually had any talent or not. This record was a real turning point for me where I realized that I can sing; I do have talent; I do know what I’m doing… I now trust myself that I have the kind of taste that I want to hear.
I don’t expect everyone to see the world how I see it, and I don’t like stuff other people like. I’m kind of a hater. (laughs) I’m a real, old-school hater, and I don’t like that about myself but whatever—I just try not to be too much. (laughs)
This record sounds like a new beginning in a way.
Yeah, it’s basically a new band and starting from scratch. When we started Permanence, it was less of a new band because all of the artists involved had such a following, and that’s changed. It’s a different time, a different world; people aren’t waiting to see what Geoff from Thursday does next because Thursday’s still going. It’s just a whole different dynamic.
I’m just really appreciating everything I’ve been given… just being able to have a life as an artist at all. I’ve had 30-plus years of a career as musician. How many people in this capitalist world get to even have one job, regardless of it being rewarding? So I feel ok about whatever comes next.
So then are you feeling more content these days?
I don’t spend much time being content because there’s always something else I want to try, but I do feel that I’ve gotten so much more than I ever could have dreamed of.
#no devotion#no devotion band#no devotion interview#geoff rickly#geoff rickly interview#new noise#gen handley#no oblivion#starlings#repeaters#lee gaze#stu richardson#stuart richardson
12 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
myyomuka
Untitled
bfwriting
Poetry, Prose, and Prayers
avidworks
A D A M
theyellowhue
N.
bloodsmile
bloodsmile