#pressure machine era
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chris phelps happy birthday brandon flowers
#brandon flowers#the killers#pressure machine#pressure machine era#pm era#pm social media#by chris phelps#b&w#my stuff
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to leave the warmest bed i've ever known
pairing: spiderwoman!reader x miguel o’hara
summary: after miguel’s fight with miles, you confront him in his office
warnings: this whole thing is basically one big argument there’s SO much angst, implied suicide attempt, HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, im projecting a little in some parts of this ngl (i cried writing a certain section of this, you'll know it when you read it lmao), mentions and descriptions of blood, gore, and death
word count: 4.1k
notes: i watched the movie yesterday…and miguel is on my mind. but i remember reading this namor x reader fanfic after i watched wakanda forever of a similar idea to this and i loved it so this is HEAVILY inspired by that fic, but just make it miguel. i would link it but ngl that was so long ago and i dont remember the author. if i end up finding it again ill put it here. also, just pretend miguel has been doing this whole spider society thing for a couple of years at least, it just needs to work like that for this ik its probably not canon but just roll with it lmao. and yes the title is a taylor swift lyric im so glad you noticed (im so sorry she's in my brain rn with the eras tour)
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The anger boiled up inside your chest as you stormed your way across the lobby. Hundreds of different Spider-Man variants were scattered across the area, some more injured than the others. It sickened you sometimes. How he had so many people under his grasp and just decided to throw some of them at the walls sometimes, not caring how hard they hit the floor because they were all just ammo to him. How despite his denials of it, that’s probably what your role was to him as well. Nothing more than a bullet in his massive machine gun.
You normally tried not to think about it, how his determination towards his goal sometimes meant lack of care for others. But this time he had just gone too far. You always had a soft spot for Miles, watching closely on him whenever Miguel would let you go though scanners of all the different variants. You admired his struggle, but eventual success to taking up the previous Peter’s mantle, and always hated how Miguel talked about him. You knew there was no way Miles could’ve asked for any of this. For the pressures and struggles of being a Spider-Man, for everything causing such a strained relationship with his parents, for the death of his uncle, and for what will be the eventual death of his father. You definitely didn’t.
Ok lets do this one last time. Eh, whatever, there’s probably gonna be 50 other introductions after this one so it doesn’t really matter.
Being Earth-837’s Spider-Man has never been easy. Especially since you were bit when you were only 13 (another reason you sympathized with Miles and Gwen). Your life had followed the order of canon events to a perfect T, your older brother killed in a fight with a robber only two months after you were bit. You tried to overcome the burden of your powers by trying to live as normal of a teenage life as possible, but it was mostly in vain, having to give up multiple friendships and relationships in fear of those you love getting hurt. This was only elevated when your boyfriend Peter was murdered in the crossfire of an encounter with Doc Ock. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. What you had done to deserve all of this. All you did was just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You wonder sometimes what would happen if someone was in the same place you were when you got bit. If someone else went to the closed down area of that museum and ran into that spider. That stupid spider that ruined your life. Those thoughts slowly started to disappear for a bit. For a few years things were easy. Things seemed like they were finally going in your favor.
You were 25 when it happened. The last canon event. Ever since you were a little girl you hated your mother’s job. Losing nights of sleep over if she would come home or not. She always did though. She was good at her job. Too good though. Good enough to get promoted to police captain, which for who you were, was basically sealing her fate. She saved so many people that day. You were too busy fighting Venom to notice how much collateral damage you were causing in the process. Your mother’s job was to evacuate all the citizens away from the fight. She died shielding a child from incoming debris. A noble way to go. But god was it gruesome. You found her after the fight was over, two metal poles impaling her. One through her stomach and one straight through her face, pools of blood growing bigger below her as she was left there, all the paramedics busy trying to save the heavily injured. You froze when you finally recognized her, unable to at first due to how mutilated her face was from the pole. Suddenly, you were transported back to being a six year old, falling asleep outside the door to your mother’s bedroom so you would know exactly when she would come home. Purposefully falling asleep in her arms so that she couldn’t go anywhere.
When you used the key she had given you to get into her apartment that night, and you slept in her room, desperate to intake anything left of her before she was fully gone. You doused yourself in her perfume so it still felt like she was standing right behind you. You had always loved her smell. The smell of vanilla, curl product, and fancy perfume. They were attached to memories you had of her. Trying on her heels when you were a kid to try and be fancy like her. Smelling her hair in the morning before school to comfort you before she left for work. Despite all of this bringing you comfort, all it really did was cause further denial in your heart. That one day you were gonna hear the keys clacking in the keyhole to your apartment one more time. That’s all you really wanted. You would give everything up in a heartbeat just to hear her police scanner go off one last time. But it wasn’t going to. And it was your fault. Deep down you knew it was. You should’ve done a better job controlling the debris. You had always been a messy fighter, but you didn’t know it was going to mean anything until it was too late.
How you got up to the top of that building is still a blur to you to this day. But next thing you know, you were looking at the New York City skyline from the very top of the Empire State Building. And at the very edge too. You heard some sounds behind you, but you just decided it was the wind howling from how high up you were. You were just so tired. Everything and everyone you loved was cursed all because of you. And with your mother as the most recent victim, you decided you finally had enough. You took a deep breath, eyes overflowed with water, as you set your foot forward.
Your plummet was interrupted by a sudden contact you felt to your forearm. Shock filled your body as you turned around to look at what had stopped your attempt. The blue hand was massive, nearly wrapping back around onto itself as it held onto you for dear life. You finally looked up at face that the hand belonged to. The mask that covered the massive figure was a strange one. Blue with strange red silhouettes for the eyes. It kind of reminded you of…your own costume? That couldn’t be though there was no way. This must be the afterlife or something. You already jumped and that's why you didn’t remember your way up to the top. This was some kind of creature trying to stop you from jumping down to hell below. His breaths were heavy and loud, almost like he was desperate to stop you. This convinced you that this was real, which caused you to try to escape from his grip. He was stronger than you, and was putting up a huge fight. You were slick though. Once you were out of his hand, you closed your eyes and quickly made your jump. Everything flashed before your eyes. Your brother, Peter, your mom. You were hoping to see them soon. This was very quickly interrupted again when you suddenly stopped falling. Something had attached itself to your stomach. You opened your eyes. A web? This web was much different than yours though. It was glowing a bright, neon orange.
The man was holding onto the end of it tightly with both hands. His mask then disappeared to show his face. His was long, matching how big the rest of his body was, defined cheek bones sticking out. Brown wavy hair slicked back with a few loose strands flying out in the wind. The look of desperation on his face stook out most of all. Why did he care so much? He didn’t know you, and you definitely didn’t know him. “Let me pull you up. Please,” he said to you between shaky pants. You stared at him for a bit before nodding. He slowly pulled you up with the string of his web, each move more careful than the last. As soon as your feet were planted safely back on the roof of the building, he wrapped you up in his massive arms. You appreciated the gesture, but you didn’t return it, still very confused about why he was so concerned. He was so big around your body though, you couldn’t help but feel a little comforted, feeling his still shaky breaths against the hairs of your neck. Soon after, he clicked on some buttons on his neon orange watch and led you into a portal.
The rest is history. You’re grateful he found you that day. It allowed you to meet so many people, Peter B., Jess, Gwen, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Margo. They all related to you and you felt like you could share things with them that you couldn’t do with anyone else. You had grown especially close to Peter and Jess, both of them having been in the game for a long time, just like you. They both knew how you felt, having lost so much and growing so tired after so many years. Peter even named you as Mayday’s godmother when she was born, a gesture that caused you to nearly kill him with your hug. Miguel though was different. He wasn’t nearly as social as the rest of your friends, but you found yourself having much more intimate moments with him (in more ways then one). You eventually found out why Miguel was so concerned for you the day you met. He had taken interest in your abilities early into looking for variants for his little “project”, but refrained from roping you into something so dangerous while you were still in your teens.
Once you were old enough though, he started paying more and more attention, hoping to catch you in a fight and recruit you then. But he was always pulled away with more important duties to attend to. That was until he witnessed your canon event. He had seen it happen so many times before through his scanners. It was going to happen. It had to in order for your universe to not collapse in on itself. But for some reason, yours hurt more than the rest to him. Especially how you coped with it. Seeing you wrap yourself up in her blankets and clothes broke his heart. He knew where this would lead to. That’s why he was there that day. To save you. He had to, or he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. You got your own watch immediately, along with your own room in the Spider Society headquarters. He stayed close with you for the first month of you being a member of the team. When he wasn’t out on missions, he was with you. You didn’t really know what to label you two as, but whatever was going on, you liked it. And he did too.
That is until Miles came into the picture. Once Miles was bit, all hell broke loose for Miguel. He was always in some alternate dimension catching some Spider-Man villain who got out and rangled them back over here, falling back over to you more beat up and bruised than the last time. You couldn’t imagine how much stress he was under, the fate of the entire multiverse up to him. You had some ways of helping him relieve his stress, but you wish you could convince him that he wasn’t alone in this. But nothing ever got through to him. He had become distant, aloof even. You tried bringing it up to Jess every so often, but she would just brush it off.
“That’s how he’s always been.” Not to you he hasn’t. This week has been hell though. With Spot making it over to Miles, Miguel had been going into rages all week. You had put up with it for now, but that was all about to stop. Watching how harsh he was being on Miles, throwing so many Spider-Men at an innocent boy, risking all of their lives in the process. Disregarding everything Gwen and Peter were feeling and then throwing Gwen back into her broken world with nothing. He had gone too far. No one else was going to stand up to him about it, so you knew it had to be you. Maybe he would listen, maybe he wouldn’t. It didn’t really matter. He just needed to hear it.
“It’s not worth it you know.” The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, stopping you in your tracks. “You know how stubborn he gets over these things,” said Jess, trying to convince you to save your breath. “I don’t care. I have to at least try,” you responded, monotonically. “I just don’t understand how you can follow him so blindly and not see what he’s doing is wrong.” “Because he isn’t wrong. I don’t know about you, but I’m not just gonna stand by and let some kid’s stupid decisions destroy another Earth,” Jess argued. “He’s just trying to save his dad, I can’t understand how that makes him such a bad person,” you said, finally turning around to face her, shocked when she was closer to you than expected.
“You know exactly why. Don’t be so naive, y/n,” she shot back. “You can’t stop me,” you said staring straight into her. She shrugged. “Then I can’t help you.” She began to walk away. You did to, until you heard her say. “You don’t know how much he cares for you.” You turned around to face her again, but her back was still to you, her head tilted ever so slightly to look at you. “If you really do care for the kid, watch what you say to Miguel right now. Cause you might just give him the final push he needs to do what needs to be done.” You didn’t give her a response, and just simply kept walking. You felt Jess’ eyes on your back as you entered the elevator to get up to Miguel’s office.
The elevator ride up felt longer than it should’ve, as you tried to gather all of your thoughts and emotions together so even if he didn’t listen, your words would still stick with him in some way. You didn’t necessarily want to hurt him (though your fists were telling you otherwise), but you did want him to be aware of what he’s done. Once the doors finally opened, all of that work flew out the window as rage took over your body again, seeing Miguel up there looking at the scanners. The fact that he looked just as normal as he always does made you furious. It’s like nothing happened.
“You know, I could hear you coming in from the lobby,” he said, almost stopping you in your tracks. You hated when he did that. Claiming that he knew what your every move was going to be. Like you were under his control or something. “Yeah, well then you must’ve heard me talking to Jess, which means you know exactly what this is about,” you shot back, stopping to where you could see him perched up there. “Why don’t you just save me the conversation about morality and just come up here and kick my ass already. It’ll save both of us time,” he said, not even taking his eyes off the scanners to look down at you. This only added to your fury. “That’s not what I’m here for Miguel, so don’t you dare try to twist my words here. What you did to that kid was fucked up and you know it.” “Oh yeah, then why didn’t you try to do anything to stop me?” he questioned.
“Because I’m not stupid Miguel. I’m not gonna try to take down hundreds of Spider-Men at once.” “Oh, cause you’re so much better than that?” This wasn’t like him at all. That gentle, kind, and caring Miguel you once knew was gone, taken over by some sort of personal vendetta he had against Miles. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this all needs to stop before it gets taken too far. You’re getting into a fight you can’t win. That kid’s strong and so are his allies. And if you go any further into this, I won’t be here to help you.” He stayed still and only turned his head to look at you. “And what makes you think that you’re so important to my plan that it’ll fall apart if you leave? Have you really become that pretentious?”
Your body froze. Have I really? No no no, that’s exactly what he wants. If you begin to doubt yourself now, you’ll stay and nothing will change. You knew you were right. He was trying to crumble you down, but you wouldn’t let that happen. “And you really think that one kid is going to ruin something that you’ve been working for for years? How insecure you’ve become.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, turning back away from you. You did the same, wiping off your face in anger. “I hate it when you do tha-,” you said as you turned back around, but were cut off to find Miguel standing there right in front of you. He was close. Too close to your liking, although in any other circumstance you would’ve found this attractive.
He tilted his head up, but his eyes were down staring daggers into yours. You hated how much he tried to make himself seem more superior to you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeated, this time slower as if you were a child. “He’s just a kid Miguel,” you said in a low, quiet voice. “An anomaly. And a dangerous one at that.” “God Miguel, all he wants to do is protect his dad, do you know how insane you sound right now?” you said letting out a slight laugh when you finished. You backed away from him a little. “He doesn’t know how much damage he’ll do with this. Saving his father will only prolong the inevitable. His world will be gone within hours if he does this. All I’m trying to do is make him understand,” he tried to explain. “By trying to kill him.” “You always have to exaggerate the situation,” he said palming his face. “But that’s essentially what you’re trying to do isn’t it? Why not snuff out the problem entirely by taking him out!”
He signed and began to walk away while you were talking, bringing up your anger even more. “Yeah, use all the power you’ve accumulated over the years and just take out the small problem! Except this isn’t just a fly on the wall Miguel. This is a child! An innocent boy who didn’t ask for any of this to happen to him, just like how we didn’t. I get it, I’m sorry that this job is stressful, I really am. But that gives you zero right to act the way you are!” You were screaming at him at this point. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want your emotions to get the best of you. But he was being too stubborn. This was the only way you thought you could get to him. You might not have wanted to, but you needed to hurt him now. It was the only way.
“You can’t be so power blind that you refused to accept the fact that there could be a way around Captain Davis’ death. You said we saved Earth’s before, I’m sure we could do it again.” Your anger only kept rising when he kept walking away and didn’t respond. “This is a personal thing isn’t it?” you asked calmly. You knew it was working now when he stopped walking. “Yeah, it it. You won’t let Miles get his happy ending. Because why should he be pardoned of his burden while the rest of us have suffered so much. While you’ve suffered so much.” The answer to your question was confirmed when Miguel stayed silent. “Just because you didn’t get the life you wanted Miguel, doesn’t mean you have the right to stop other people from getting theirs.”
You knew you overstepped the line when Miguel turned around and started walking towards you, fury burning in his crimson eyes. “Yeah, so what! What if that is what this is all about! You should know better than anyone how much this job takes away from you!” he screamed at you, backing you up into a wall. “Why should he get to be let off so easily, while people like you and me have to suffer so much? Don’t try to turn me into the villain here when I know you’re thinking the exact same thing, y/n.” He wasn’t entirely wrong. You had wondered it at some points. “I won’t let you turn this onto me Miguel, this is about you,” you fired back. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily. I know you’re thinking it. And you’re right. Why should Miles get let off so easily when you’ve lost so much.” He held your hands in his, trying to connect to you. “And you have mi vida. You’ve had so much taken from you and it’s unfair. Why should he only have lost one person when you’ve had three taken from you. Your brother, Peter, your moth-.”
He was cut off by your hand striking against his face in a harsh blow. “If you’re smart, and I know you are, you’ll keep those three out of them. I won’t let you drag their names through the dirt for something as stupid as this.” You both stood there for a while, both of your eyes looking towards the ground, hoping it would open up to swallow you both as an escape from this god awful conversation. You never wanted it to come to this. In all honesty, you cared for Miguel. You might’ve even loved him, if you were even capable of doing such a thing. You hoped he felt the same way about you, but in a job like this, he always had at least one wall up around you. It just wasn’t worth it anymore. You were too tired to keep trying for something that was most likely going to fall apart in the end.
“You’re still going after him aren’t you?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. Miguel looked back up at you. “You can’t ask me not to. You know better than anyone why this is so important to me.” He moved his hand up to cup your cheek and kissed your forehead gently. You let it sit there for a minute out of habit before pushing it off your face. “And you must know why I can’t stay anymore then.” His shoulders dropped. “Whatever this thing between us is. It’s over. I can’t stay beside someone who can’t see what he’s doing is wrong.” Miguel’s dropped hand turned into a fist of anger. “Fine,” he spat in your face. “I don’t need someone like you in my way. You’re just a liability to this anyways.” He began to walk away from you back to his scanners. “Just don’t come crying back over to me when your little plan doesn’t work out, cause I won’t help you.” He used his webs to pull himself back up to the platform to keep looking for Miles. You stood there for a second, gathering yourself.
Five years. Out the door just like that. It bewildered you how easily a bond like you two had could be broken all because of one teenager. You began to make your way for the door before you said. “When this is all over…don’t try to find me.” He didn’t respond. Once the elevator doors opened, you rushed inside, desperate to get away from him. So many thoughts rushed through your head as the doors closed and you sunk down back to the lobby to leave. You didn’t have much of a plan. This could end up being a horrible idea. Your gut told you it was the right thing to do though. And that was enough for you. You walked out of the headquarters lobby with a new heart and a new mind, ready to take action for your new plan.
First though, you had to find Gwen.
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a/n: god that took longer than it should've. dw dw i'll do a part 2 if enough people ask for one. im not 100% sure how im gonna do a part 2 cause yk....idk how beyond the spiderverse is gonna go so tbh, we're just gonna make it go the way i want lmao. thanks for reading, ik this was kind of a long one lmao
NEXT CHAPTER
#miguel o’hara#miguel o'hara x reader#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman 2099#into the spider verse#spider-woman reader#across the spiderverse#fem!reader#fanfic#fanfiction#spiderman#spider man#spider man: across the spider verse#spiderverse
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At this point I am really wondering how the entertainment industry, especially gaming industry, is going to uphold/maintain themselves.
One layoff after another. How are people from that industry supposed to find a new job there when layoffs are happening everywhere? Do studios really think there’s longevity when they aren’t even willing to hire newcomers/juniors so there‘s adequate supply in the work force? Because look at how it’s currently going: investors want more and more money, the workload increases, but people are getting fired, leaving a smaller team to do said work, even distributing them for 2 or 3 projects at the same time, only to crash in a burnout or in later years go into retirement. Then who’s left? AI? Are you kidding me? As if games aren’t becoming more and more repetitive anyway, because of some „safe recipe for good numbers“ strategy. Creativity and the people behind it are suffering.
It’s been almost 2 years since I saw a junior 3D character artist offer. Ever since then it’s been a desert. And it’s not looking all too bright in other departments either. It’s now even a thing in job descriptions where they want you to have „AI abilities“. So as a junior or regular they want you to feed their machine, so in a few years they can fire you. The audacity.
Another audacity are those layoffs just to rehire people for a smaller price (can’t tell me otherwise. For me this is a tactic to put pressure on the work force to say yes to less money otherwise they will stay jobless). People that made projects what they are today, who are seniors and leads for a reason, out of a job just like that. Make it make sense (it doesn’t).
Studios like ubisoft now openly saying that they want to focus on AI, like assets completely made by AI to „save time and money“ and expand AI onto more fields. Shame on them.
The way creative industries like gaming finance themselves is also their biggest poison. And I only see a solution in that by regulating investors demands and upper positions sheaningans. They can’t have „absolute power“ anymore. It’s destructive and greedy and not realistic. Games can not be linearly successful. For the game design „recipe“ to improve it needs iteration just like when you work in a project for example and work on a design that needs to be iterated until it‘s improved or solid even. We see time and time again that „business/numbers people“ and creatives do not go hand in hand. We see an extreme imbalance.
I would predict that with less creative new input and letting mainly AI do the work consumers will be less and less entertained because everything seems to be and look the same. It will stagnate. And then crumble. And the industry needs to start like it did before. And that’s what I guess for the big companies.
With the layoffs happening and not enough job offers in return I could see that big talents get together to build their own studios now and we may get an era of new successful and growing studios happening that may even replace the current triple A studios one day in the future. They may even change the financing game. We saw successful games happening through platforms like kickstarter more often. So it might lead back to a „power to the people“ thing. Having an idea for a project and seeing if enough people agree and invest to see it happening. There’s room for improvement in that system. That’s all what it leads back to; in the end the consumers need to be satisfied to make it a creative and monetary success. BG3 and larian studios was a good example for that. It’s what made coral island grow and grow too. So there‘s potential.
Feel free to comment your theories. I really would like to see what others think about the current state of gaming studios and how it will or could develop.
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is trouble ever frat!peter’s lock screen? Either before or after the whole situationship thing or secretly during both eras? If so, what picture?
yes! relationship!peter does it proudly, situationship!peter is a bit more stealth. iphones have a wallpaper feature where if you hold the screen down you can swap between photos and i imagine that’s how it is.
peter went home for a week and really missed you and went through his photos and he saw that picture he snapped of you at a party. the background is blurred, proof that the liquor was flowing heavily. you’ve got a smile that shows off almost every tooth and a vice grip on a liter of rum. he doesn’t know why, but he made it his wallpaper for the week and would pick up his phone every five minutes just to look at it.
relationship!peter has a picture of the both of you. something he looks at and is reminded of what he has and how much he truly loves you. it was from a double date night you both had a few months into being official, your friend pressured peter for the photo, he rolled his eyes and gave in. he’s glad he did. it’s his favorite.
you’re wrapped around him in a side hug, peters got a grip on your shoulder. he’s laughing at something your friends date said, he’s wearing the grin you tell him you love. but the reason he has such adornment for the photo is because of the way you’re looking at him.
your eyes are bright and shining, your smile matches his, not because you found anything funny, but because peter’s joy was contagious for you. each time he looks at it he feels warmth radiate, a visual reminder of how much you love him.
—
(you know i had to add a bonus of trouble finding peter’s wallpaper!! -situationship!peter obv)
‘just sit here and look pretty, i’ll be thirty minutes tops.’
peter had pulled you away from date night with the promise of stopping at his chapter meeting. he had negotiated the first hour, trent, the chapter president, wouldn’t break on the last thirty minutes and demanded peter be there. or else.
you wouldn’t mind but peter didn’t tell you until last minute and now you’re sitting down at an empty table at the library while they fill up a rented room across from you.
‘it’ll be longer than that and you know it.’
‘you’ll be fine. give me a kiss.’ you meet him with one, you grumble down at your phone. ‘my phones about to die, what am i supposed to do?’
peter feigns shock, ‘oh no!’ he looks around, ‘i hope you’ll find something to do in this big, empty library. it might be hard.’
your eyes narrow, you hate his sarcasm. ‘the library doesn’t have instagram reels, peter. how am i supposed to entertain myself while you’re talking numbers and business?’
there’s a miniature battle of silence, you win when peter groans and hands over his phone from his back pocket. ‘here. use mine.’ you reach forward, peter’s giving you unbridled access to his phone, you’d be dumb to say no.
‘nuh uh. you promise me right now you won’t fuck up my algorithm, i spent months perfecting it.’ you make grabby hands, ‘promise.’
the sleek, black screen is in your hold in seconds. your thumbs fly over the screen, you’re in and on instagram in a second. peter looks back once more, ‘thirty minutes.’ you nod, the first video already playing, you wish you could send it to peter. you send it to yourself to send back to him when you’re at a full charge.
ten minutes and you need a refresher, wandering around towards the bathroom you grab a water from a vending machine. cracking the cap, your left thumb pressed into peter’s home screen and his wallpaper separated, another photo right next to it.
you can recognize the edge, you swipe and feel your heart melt into a puddle. it’s you and only you. smiling and posing just for peter. he snapped the pic and saved it, he even went one step further and put it as his screensaver. a backup one, but something tells you he doesn’t want you knowing it exists.
you can keep a secret.
you can’t stop smiling at his phone and the short videos playing aren’t even that funny. you perk at a kiss on the top of your head. ‘told you i’d only be thirty minutes… what? why are you looking at me like that?’
‘no reason. it was very nice of you to offer me your phone, thank you.’
another kiss, you can’t wait til you get him alone. you might be the only one in on the secret, but he was going to be treated very nicely for it.
‘no problem, trouble. what’s mine is yours.’ your heart thumps louder. ‘and now,’ peter gently pulls you up with him, you’re along for the ride.
‘i owe you dessert, let’s go.’ you don’t walk with him, you stay until his hand tugs yours, peter looks back at you confused. ‘i wanna have dessert at yours.’
peter pouts, ‘tarrent polished off the ice cream.’
‘i know.’ peter knows that tone, now he’s standing straighter and acting casually. ‘oh? alright, yeah, let’s go home.’
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PICK A CARD ⍣ what era of your life are you walking into right now?
reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.
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GROUP ONE
cards · ace of swords (reversed), three of wands, ace of cups (reversed), nine of pentacles, six of cups (reversed), knight of pentacles (reversed), queen of pentacles, celestite: spirituality, serenity, vision.
channelled songs · all that matters by justin bieber. cassandra - acoustic by florence + the machine. voodoo (intermission) by dawn richard. low life by future & the weeknd.
my dear group one ♡ you are currently in an era of mental lack of clarity. you do not see how things are unfolding for you and, thus, you chase after that which is not good for you. in this state of mind, you are prone to make decisions that are, ultimately, the wrong ones.
and one such decision is about to walk you into the next era of your life. you are about to start a new job, new academic career, to get married -- to do something just because you have been told that this is what you should do. that this is who you should be.
it won’t be all bad, of course. but you will feel largely dissatisfied by the shape your life is taking. even with this dissatisfaction, you may repress these emotions for the sake of those around you. you don’t want to disappoint anyone. you don’t want to embarrass or humiliate yourself.
honestly, you may feel as if you’re walking into a more stable era of your life, when you are only walking into an even more confusing one. when you are only walking into an era that makes you feel soulless, devoid of passion.
you may find yourself longing for something or someone from the past. or you may be holding onto a dream so tight that you work overtime so that it becomes a reality. that you become a success. such that you work twice as hard in your day job and in pursuit of your dream.
this era may be painful and difficult and confusing, but you know your limits and you can definitely withstand the pressure. my dear, it is imperative that you withstand and that you do not give up.
after you overcome this temporary hill. this temporary era of confusion. then you will walk into your era of ease, peace. and stability. for many of you, you are about to walk into an era where you are loved on and spoiled, unapologetically.
GROUP TWO
cards · nine of pentacles, judgement, the devil (reversed), knight of pentacles, the fool (reversed), three of wands, six of cups, azurite: inspiration, understanding, intuition
channelled songs · the reynolds pamphlet by original broadway cast of hamilton. pacemaker by stray kids. family ties by baby keem & kendrick lamar. highlight of my life by dolly parton.
my dear group two ♡ right when things were going right -- bam! the rug was pulled from under your feet and you fell flat on your back. lost. confused. confounded. in the worst mental health of your life. you thought you were finally free of the worsts that life had to offer, that you were finally building your own life for yourself, just to be thrown right into the deep-end. just to be right back where you started, if not worse off than where you started.
but you will make it through this. you will have your hiccups, and your feelings of being lost, and your certainty that life will not get better -- not for you -- and you will be proven wrong in your doubts. time and time again.
you are in the knight of pentacles energy right now, my dear. you are persistent, disciplined, and devoted to your wellbeing and your self. even if you do not see that you contain these attributes, you do, and they will get you far.
these attributes are what will help you as you walk into this upcoming era. these attributes are what have helped you get this far and what will help you get so, so much further.
know, my dear, that this time of strife. of anguish. of sadness. know that it will not last long. you are walking into an era of happiness. many of you may be travelling soon, with this era of happiness coming about because you finally get to leave your home or hometown. because you get to have your own space and set your own schedule.
if you had to leave something/someone/somewhere or turn down an opportunity because of mental health struggles, you will be able to return very soon. much sooner than you expect. now, more equipped than before, and, thus, able to enjoy this to the fullest extent.
GROUP THREE
cards · eight of pentacles, the high priestess, nine of pentacles, eight of wands, knight of wands, four of pentacles, ace of cups, aventurine: luck, prosperity, fulfillment.
channelled songs · sweet venom by enhypen. sativa by jhené aiko & swae lee. legend by alice longyu gao. for my lover by tracy chapman. honey by mariah carey, mase, the lox.
my dear group three ♡ you may not be where you want to be just yet, but you are grateful for how far you have come. you have let go of worry, of stress, and of doubt, and have placed your utmost faith in the plan that the universe and the divine has for you. and trust me when i say that this will pay off for you tenfold. no, hundredfold.
you are focused on your spirituality at the moment. on connecting with the divine and the universe around you. and you are already seeing the universe open wide for you, welcoming you with arms open wide, as it has been waiting for you.
you are being asked to not doubt yourself anymore. sure you have put your trust in the divine, but you have to realise that trust is a two-way street -- how can the divine put their trust in someone who does not trust themselves? someone who will not follow through with the blessings they have gifted? they can’t.
continue to hold your head up high. remember that you are a child of the universe. that you are loved and looked after. that god has not abandoned you. remember that you have got yourself this far. you should be proud of yourself for that.
put yourself back on the pedestal and catch yourself when you start to slip -- because you belong up there. and you belong in the era that you are about to walk into. this era that comes right from your own hard work, effort, persistence, and discipline. discipline, most of all, and in all areas of your life.
you are walking into an era where both your emotional and material needs will be fulfilled. especially as you will be making money, and making a name for yourself, doing something that you love. you will no longer working just to earn money; just to “earn a living”. no, no longer!
you are walking into an era where you will not have to scrimp and save, where you will not have to check the price of every item when you do your groceries, where you can give money to the needy without worry or concern about what that will mean for your own wallet.
really… just... you are walking into an era of new beginnings. blessed new beginnings. you’ve earned it.
GROUP FOUR
cards · queen of pentacles, eight of swords, ten of pentacles, knight of wands, four of pentacles, six of cups, nine of pentacles (reversed), onyx: willpower, strength, protection
channelled songs · asylum by billy woods. bye by ariana grande. i want to end my life by takayan. i need you by bahja rodriguez. at night by simon dominic.
my dear group four ♡ you may have recently lost someone with whom you were very close. even if it was not all that recently, the grief may still be an open wound that you have not been able to heal; for some of you, that you have not even been able to address.
you look around at what this person has left behind and you would do anything, trade it all, just to have them back by your side. you would trade all your money, your health, everything that you have and everything that you possess just to have them back -- even if only for a moment. even if only to say a proper goodbye, to tell them one last time how much you love them.
but, dear, know that this person has not left you. far from it. they are now one of your guides, watching over you and guiding you not only as you navigate this life but onto the best possible path for you to follow.
the era that you are walking into is one of divine protection. of heightened intuition, because of this passed on loved on, who has now become your guide. this is an era of never truly feeling lost or alone, and of knowing that you will not and cannot be steered wrong because this person is on your side.
and, yes, it’s not a fair exchange. yes, you will wish for them to be by your side in the flesh. yes, there will be times when you don’t feel their presence and wonder if they have left you, but know that just because you don’t feel them there doesn’t mean that they are not with you.
because they are with you. your partner in crime, from the other side.
#**#tarot#pac#pick a card#tarotblr#witchblr#witch of color#tarotcommunity#tarotcreator#tarotonline#divination#channelled message#channeled message#channeled reading#spirituality#spiritualism#aries season
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𝐘𝐚𝐧?𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚/𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟗𝟗 𝐱 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ��𝐜𝐬/
Based on this
Notes/ I don't condone yandere irl All fiction always,reader is gender neutral(describe as "you") reader lives in futuristic/cyberpunk era in their dimension also cyberpunk 2077 reference(maybe?)
Warnings: yandere themes(yk that.) Stalking, possessive Miguel?? Possibly ooc Miguel(sorry about that)
(2275 words)
Miguel has been watching over you, different variants of you in every dimension you are including photos videos on his monitor(s), except he hadn't seen the other prowler version of you though?
while you were in a serious situation of running away from the soldiers holding their guns,shooting,chasing after you while you were running,dodging and parkour crates and in every things thats in your way,no one knows who you are,your identity is anonymous everybody in your city have heard the prowler but never know who you really are..are you a villain? A hero? Nah your just a vigilante that's it. you manage to outrun the men but suddenly you see a random portal that just sucks into you,you tried using your claws stick through the wall to stop you from going in but the pressure is too strong,you were suck into this portal now you went somewhere,you don't belong.
Now you were still wearing your mask,gear, and removed it looking around this city,it looks like yours but not yours
when lyla announced a anomaly on the loose and showing photos/pictures,videos on holo of the anamoly from lyla and this time seeing your face unmasked its you..
After few moments Miguel finally captured you, Impressed by your ability to match his strength like other variant prowlers, he never intended to harm you but you were so stubborn get out his grip kept fighting back which caused intense adrenaline scene of you two fighting. He placed you trapped in a hologram cell, and you seeing anomalies in their enclosure, you were told being instructed to stay there for weeks until it was your turn the the"go home machine."
Eventually Miguel made up his mind and decided for the best work with him means spend time with him and gets you out the cell,
You agreed since you had no choice just work with him and the others you only agreed because you never wanted go back to your world. Your city, the generous rich isolated from external influences and leave the poor to fend themselves, lead to rampant crime,corrupted,and disease slowly polluting your city. Getting away from this hellhole.
And few weeks eventually getting along with Miguel helping throughout missions getting along with others—however sometimes he doesn't let you talk to others only if you had long conversation made him felt jealous,angry and its stupid for himself,and had told you stay away and never be friends with. he'll make exception to aaron davis(prowler MCU) since you two get along well
he's gets sometimes angry but not you like example the scene of miles meeting miguel literally yelling at him blah blah blah..you interrupted coming from miles and gwen behind and you needed and helped with
Also yes he may have watch many different variants of you on his monitor admiring watching you making sure your always here but never told how he feels towards you, when he met prowler!you and doesn't tell them either and he'll make sure that he always loves you in every universe makes you his.
#yandere spiderverse#yandere spiderman#yandere miguel o'hara#yandere miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara#atsv x reader#‽#srry for the long wait#yandere x reader
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i. a sleep deprived meeting
summary: your upstairs neighbor plays the violin often. so much so that it's distracting you from your work. you decide it's time to confront him (cavill!sherlock x afab!reader)
reflection: this is the first part of six. two have been written, and another is currently in the works. i did plan to finish everything and post it in one piece, but then it would be too long. i have dove into a rabbit hole here and i hope i am able to curse others as much as henry's sherlock has cursed me. please enjoy and of course, feedback is always encouraged and appreciated.
warnings: seamstress!reader, sherlock is rude, condescending!sherlock, cursing, somewhat slowburn, enemies to lovers, eventual smut, victorian era (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)
word count: 2,604
That damn violin’s surpassing the dimension between floors separating you from your upstairs neighbor again. The vivid sound is so clear that you’re positive your fingertips could rest against the surface of the wall and vibration would greet you not only harmoniously, but physically. Music you could touch because of how it swells in the building, how it echoes out to your flat and bounces off the empty spaces not covered by scraps of fabric. The hum shouldn’t bother you as much as it does, but your fingers are not occupying themselves with the task of becoming familiar with the tunes of a skilled violinist; they’re busy with a commissioned dress that must be finished within the time slot of a day. Normally you wouldn’t rush the process, but work came fast and aplenty, leaving you with little to no choice but to overload yourself and answer it with vigor and stubbornness others would describe as not knowing how to quit. You’ve never had a quota this full to meet and you were, after all, one woman, but you’re going to work day and night if that’s what it takes. Or, in your case, another day and another night of nonstop work to add onto your seemingly endless and perpetually sleepless cycle of being.
In your haste, your index finger meets the needle of your incoming thread. It’s a stab straight to your flesh, one of many, and one managing to aggravate your already high level of frustration brewing within. Quickly and without thinking, you shove your finger into your mouth to nurse the small, repetitive wound underneath your tongue. The taste of metal mixes off with your saliva and soon fades from blood and light salt to nothing but a feeling of your pulse throbbing from the unwelcome intrusion. The drum in your fingertip only speeds up as a warning of you to be careful, of how each misstep with the needle may be miniscule, but multiplying the instances periodically would leave behind more pain to ache alongside the pressure forming in your back and neck. Your eyes burn the longer you keep them open, the longer you focus on sewing, there’s no need to add pricked fingers to your list of pain that you would wind up ignoring in favor of more work. And yet, through all of this, it’s not your cramping hands, your stiff neck, your tired eyes, or your crouching back that cultivates your irritation. No, it’s the crescendo of the violin from upstairs nestling in your ear, yelling at you to shut it up.
After personifying the instrument and imagining its voice as a cry for help, of how it’s a victim to the criminal musician’s overuse, you somehow justify yourself pushing the cloth in your lap aside to place it onto the table of your machine. You blow air to flip the hair strands that have fallen out of their way and laid on your lips, the rest pinned to your head so you wouldn’t have to worry about your hair draping over your skin during your job’s duties. You’re so focused on gripping the material of your skirts that you fail to notice the strands falling right back into your eyes on the way up the stairs you’re marching on one by one. The violin increases in volume with every step you take until you’re soon facing a door, a golden label of 221B staring back at you, the contrast being in the floor letter. This is not the first time you’ve been disturbed by this tenant, but it’s the first time you’ve come up here to this door in particular and you’re aware of this as you hesitate and merely glare forward. This self-awareness sets you back two seconds, only two seconds of precious time before you decide to see this through and confront your unnamed tormenter.
Your hand raises into a fist, prepared to knock onto the door seemingly taunting you for some course of action, but it’s then that it swings open and unveils a rather large man with squared shoulders and an annoyed expression that you know mirrors your own. His face is sculpted, boyish curls surrounding masculine and inquisitive features that become more so with a raise of his left eyebrow. Almost as if you were actually staring into your own reflection, your shoulders perk up and you rectify your posture to try and replicate the amount of space he takes in the same fashion that you would imagine a human doing in front of a bear to appear bigger than it was. But it doesn’t matter what he looks like, this complaint must be said with confidence and you won’t let this man’s size or gender intimidate you. Your lack of sleep may have made you a bit reckless, but at least you could move forward and continue without his infuriating habits robbing you of your sanity whether it’s while you work or while you try to unwind (a much rarer phenomenon, but still not as plausible with him around).
Or so, you thought.
“You’re heavy on your feet,” the man cuts the silence without allowing you the chance to speak. “I could hear you coming before you started to ascend the stairs.” Your voice catches in your throat hearing such an utterance, your eyes automatically drifting down to look at your choice of footwear. Your heels weren’t the quietest of shoes, but the clack of them against the stairs is not something that you were noticing in your simmering rage walking up and across the hall. Thinking clearly is difficult to do without sleep on one’s side in general. Embarrassment and shame flit over your chest all at once, but as you peer into this man’s disarray of a flat behind his broad frame, you can see the violin sitting atop a table. That wretched thing that you can no longer stand the sound of, the reason you came up here in the first place despite having not known one another. You didn’t plan to introduce yourself, either, and it seems like a bad idea with the tension currently sitting between you and Shoulders.
“Yes, well,” you slowly clear your throat and try to regain a semblance of decorum after being caught so off guard, “I made my trip here for a reason. You do play a string instrument, correct?”
Without preamble, he takes a single glance behind him and locates the very thing you were about to complain about. It’s not long before his brilliant blues return and level you with the same steely gaze he’s adopted from the moment he first opened the door. It prompts you to close your mouth. You don’t know why you do, but there’s this restraint you’re putting onto yourself in the presence of this domineering stranger. You want to continue on, but he takes advantage of the beat and he leans into the door frame with one capable hand. The position tells you of how you’re wasting his time, how he would rather get back to what he was doing before you interrupted him. “What on Earth told you that? Was it, perhaps, the sound of the Caprice in A Minor or the meek snooping of prying, sleep-deprived eyes unabashedly scrutinizing my flat?”
His sarcasm takes you aback. He couldn’t have known that you were coming up here with any hint of aggression to be speaking to you so poorly. The last thing you wanted to do was portray yourself as judgmental when your own flat was a mess in itself, but you’re also not in the mood to question and doubt yourself knowing the motive for this impromptu visit in the first place. The realization hits you that he also could not have known about your sleep schedule being askew, so you must’ve looked like the walking undead. While your face scrunches up in defense, you rapidly shake your head despite the migraine currently gripping it by the crown. Your neighbor certainly isn’t helping with that. Your disheveled appearance should be the least of his worries.
“Listen, I did not come up here to quarrel—”
“But that’s not true, is it?” His expression changes. It’s subtle, but you catch it from how intently you’re burrowing your eyes into his in an attempt to search for the audacity he seemed to possess without a lick of shame behind it. His expression communicates his words as a fact, as if he had you figured out, as if he had the world around you two figured out. The certainty in his pupils unwavers and you’re a skeptic before anything else, but you already believe what he’s about to say before he even says it just from how he carries himself. So sure. So omniscient.
A deep sigh slips past his lips as he brings the door closed to where only a narrow crevice of his flat is now displayed to you. You can no longer drink in the furniture and trinkets this man holds because there’s no longer a view beyond him and rich wood facing you, leaving you vulnerable to look solely at the curls framing his sturdy facial structure. It’s a dichotomy you’re not prepared for: soft decorating solid, flowers strung along stone. If you dare the eye contact further, then you’ll test how much your own can stand before they start to water from sheer perseverance. You’ve been wiping tears away casually while you sat at your sewing machine today from how exhausted they were and from how you forced them open to continue. You don’t want to shed a tear in this instance since he might think himself the reason and it’s obvious to you that you can’t give him any more of a reaction, any more of a way into how you felt.
“Ordinarily, a walk up this staircase alerts simply from the creaks crafted by age and the weight of a person’s shoes. If you were on a mission to borrow sugar loaves, it wouldn’t have easily caught my ear since I was occupied playing the Caprice.” He gestures to the stairs, the rickety sound of the steps coming back to mind from how you previously walked them. “However, you did catch my ear and it’s not because of an enhanced ability or cautious observation, but because you climbed your way here with intention behind every stomp your elevated heels etched into the floorboards. No one scuffs flooring unless they’re dragging about some kind of vendetta or they’re lackadaisical in their steps, yours far too prominent to be considered the latter.”
Out of curiosity, you throw a look behind your shoulder to assess his story and there’s a lemony scratch in the floor standing vibrantly against the opaque hickory that surrounds it. You compare the mark to the shape of your heel and you foolishly gulp down from how transparent your perturbation has been up to this point. Still, while he may be right about your less than friendly arrival, it doesn’t change anything. Actually, you’re finding yourself more irritated than before, his attitude too set in writing when you’ve barely muttered two sentences to him. Two sentences and he’s gone on some soliloquy exemplifying how he’s most likely not the easiest person in the world to talk to. Great, you have the worst kind of neighbor and you can join that bitter population of people who must deal with those they live beside no matter how much they don’t want to. Your exhale is steady leaving your nostrils in an attempt to calm yourself.
“Fine, then I have some kind of vendetta,” you parrot back to him and match his matter-of-factly tone. “It’s against you and your violin—”
“A noise complaint, right.” He nods his head as a headmaster would, as if you were a little girl raising her hand with an answer needing validation from the authority figure running the class. Your fists ball up at your sides. You don’t think you could handle one more second of his condescension.
“Yes, a noise complaint. I’ve been incredibly busy working and your violin makes it extremely difficult to think.” You puff out your last words, a breath of your current mood following closely behind. It doesn’t deter him and neither do your words. He remains where he is and mulls it over simultaneously as he regards your frame. Stagnant. Inspecting. Almost brooding. You’re in the middle of attempting to conjure another way to put this dilemma in order for this brick wall of a man to understand when he tilts his head down to look at the watch in his vest’s pocket.
“Strange. A seamstress needing to think,” he says, but it’s more to himself than it is to you. It doesn’t mean that it’s any less insulting. By how your blood’s curdling in your veins from the heat beginning to bubble underneath your skin, you’d argue that his response and behavior is that much more insulting.
“I beg your pardon, Mister—”
“Holmes. It’s Holmes.” He points a broad shoulder towards the door behind him. “I understand your concern, but you’re not the only tenant who works from home. While you claim the violin may not aid you in thought, it aids me greatly in it. So, if that’s all,” he leans forward and somehow the above fluorescence catches a gleam to the ice of his irises, “Some of us need to get back to work.”
With that, Mr. Holmes turns away from you, a flabbergasted feeling dawning onto you in his wake. Your mouth’s agape in an odd mix of shock, disgust, and incredulity as you watch him disappear and then promptly shut the door. Just as before, the golden letters taunt you all over again, beckoning your hand to knock and hold your ground. Except, that doesn’t happen. You don’t reach your hand up to try and create another debate with the tenant in flat 221B, not when you’re sure he would just walk you in circles. There are some people in this world you can’t win through speech and quite frankly, you’re too tired and agitated to engage him in anything other than another form of aggression. From how you recall him glancing at his pocket watch, it reminds you how you’re wasting your own limited time squandering over someone you just met. He’s a problem certainly, but not your current problem to resolve. The commission still needs to be dealt with and there’s better success there than here.
Swallowing your pride and gathering your last bits of etiquette to appear as a lady, you slowly withdraw from Mr. Holmes and his door to trot yourself back to the stairs. His voice echoes in your mind, the matter in which you previously ascended the steps being a stark volume. Despite this, you don’t hesitate to resume your stomping, each step booming as resolve slips through your fingers and your heel thuds into the wood with full intent rather than a subconscious one he caught onto too quickly. You take one final look back at the bottom of the staircase to see if the door budges, but nothing happens. But you know he heard it and for now, that’s enough for you to return to your flat to continue your current sewing project.
You sit at the machine and reset your needle, thread, and how you position the fabric before you’re falling back into the rhythm. It’s only when you begin to hear the violin humming through the walls again that it occurs to you that you never told Mr. Holmes you were a seamstress.
#enola holmes#henry cavill#henry!sherlock#sherlock holmes#sherlock holmes x reader#condescending!sherlock#cavill!sherlock#sherlock fanfic#l4l.writes
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Ok this has been bothering me all day. I saw a post talking about how Rauru and Sonia did more for Zelda than Rhoam did and… I’m once again going to defend Rhoam, cuz that’s a very unfair thing to say and a horrible comparison to make.
Rauru and Sonia helped Zelda with her time powers and learning about the secret stone. Rhoam didn’t help her with her sealing power. Why? Cuz he has no magic and he clearly wasn’t the one who had it. Her mother was the one who had the power and was the one to teach her. Rhoam had no idea what he was doing, he didn’t understand the magic, and he hoped that if she dedicated her life that it would awaken so that the calamity wouldn’t destroy their home.
Well he should’ve tried to help her anyways right? Well, yes it’s easy to say that, unfortunately Rhoam was put in a very bad position of being king with the looming threat of the APOCALYPSE!!!! I think it’s implied that Rhoam married into the family, since his wife had the sealing power from the blood of the goddess or whatever, and seeing how he’s Hylian, he wasn’t a prince from another kingdom since all other kingdoms in this world have small round ears. For all we know, he was a prince consort who was never raised to be king. We don’t know what he was doing before, but with his wife’s sudden death and the responsibility of protecting his kingdom, he didn’t make the right choices. Which isn’t an excuse, but in his position, it’s an explanation. Rauru and Sonia didn’t have an apocalypse threatening to happen, in fact, they were in an era of peace and the future seemed bright. Of course they had time to hang out with Zelda and have tea parties with her. They seemed to be relaxed and having fun, which makes sense seeing how there didn’t seem to be much of a threat to their kingdom, minus Ganondorf, but I don’t think either of them saw him as a huge threat, seeing how they were absolutely blindsided by him.
It’s implied in AOC that Rhoam shouldered all of the responsibilities of the kingdom, and it seemed that he was under a significant amount of pressure during the calamity. And I feel like he mostly did that so Zelda could focus on awakening her power. She didn’t seem to have many responsibilities as princess save for awakening her power and helping out the champions. She is barely 17 so it makes sense that she’s not ruling the kingdom, but I do feel like Rhoam did all that stuff so she could focus on the calamity itself. And I’m sure in his stress he grew frustrated whenever Zelda focused more on the machines than awakening her power. Which was not the right thing to do, but come ON the world is literally about to end and the ONLY piece of the puzzle they need is Zelda!!! Some people forget that she HAD to awaken her powers otherwise the world was going to be destroyed! And it almost was cuz they were awakened too late! They were in such an unfair situation! And it’s not fair to compare him to Rauru and Sonia who were not in the same situation he was in, who were lying around in the grass and drinking tea because the calamity wasn’t there.
Rhoam is such a well written character that acts the way you’d expect someone in his situation to act. And he has so much regret over some of the things he’s had to do to protect Hyrule. You can read it in his journal where he finally gives up and desires to act more like a father to Zelda, you can see it when he takes Terrako away from Zelda, and you can see it when he’s a ghost 100 years after everything is destroyed. He’s so guilty but he did what he thought was best so that Zelda could not have a throne to nothing, so that Hyrule will be safe. And there’s a lot of things he could’ve done better, but people don’t act rational under that much stress. Like come on, would you? Don’t lie you absolutely wouldn’t.
And this post isn’t meant to diss on Rauru and Sonia, I like them in their own ways. But it’s kinda dumb whenever people love complex characters and then turn around and hate on characters like Rhoam and make them completely one-dimensional when they’re not. Y’all are completely unfair to Rhoam.
#he’s not a tyrant or an evil person or an oath breaker or loved Link more than Zelda or an abuser or stupid stuff like that#give him a break#I cant look at the AOC tag cuz all I see are people being stupid about his character#I feel like the calamity happening was a wake up call to him in AOC#and he realized some things about Zelda and the Sheikah technology#and I’m AOC he seems to be giving Zelda some of the responsibility of leading since she’s leading the army now#like HOW do people hate him AOC you people have no taste#it’s sad cuz they didn’t seem to be talking to each other much before the calamity#and when Rhoam was going to just. hang out with Zelda#he wasn’t given the chance#I cant imagine the guilt he felt in those 100 years#losing quite literally everything#ok I’m done ranting about this#I’m so done with Rhoam slander it’s STUOID#ITS SO STUPID#totk#totk spoilers#breath of the wild#age of calamity
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Flying Scotsman in 2004 - A Comedy of Errors and Owners:
Ok - so this is something I've been sitting on for a while now, but I feel like with 'The World Famous Engine' now being uploaded to Ao3, now is the right time to cover this rather insane topic. See, we all know the story of Flying Scotsman and the NRM: the NRM bought the engine for the nation, and then sent it into the Works for 1 years' worth of work in 2006... One year of work that ended up spiralling into ten years and £4.2 million.
But behind that story is a rather more shocking story, and one that really needs more recognition to help people understand just how absolutely shockingly Flying Scotsman had been treated before that overhaul.
Sir William McAlpine:
Our story most likely begins under Alan Peglar, but I have a rather sneaking suspicion it actually gets interesting under McAlpine. Sir William McAlpine bought 4472 Flying Scotsman in 1972 to save the engine after Alan Peglar went bankrupt in San Francisco, leaving the engine on a US Military Base.
He brought Scotsman and had the engine restored at Derby Works in England, and then successfully owned and ran the engine for another 23 years, making him the longest-lasting and most successful of all Scotsman's owners.
Pretty good achievement!
But, during this era, Flying Scotsman visited Australia, broke the record for the longest non-stop run by a steam locomotive, pulled the Royal Train, ran on a multitude of heritage railways and mainline excursions, got an overhaul three times - including one at Barrow-in-Furness (story idea, anyone?). This is not where the worst of the issues arose from, but it does give you a good idea of the kind of work this engine was being tasked with.
And then in 1995, it was involved in an accident at Llangollen Railway. When put back into steam, smoke emerged from a crack separating the boiler and the front cab. It was deemed a total failure and immediately withdrawn from service immediately - and that's what did McAlpine in. He sold the engine off to cover some debts, and Tony Marchington
What do I think went wrong here? I have a feeling that Scotsman was run pretty haggard in Australia (which, fair - it's not always a very nice country to machines) and when refitted to his BR livery, several... shortcuts were made to get the engine back in service. All the same, this isn't where the trouble came from.
Tony Marchington:
And here's where things went south. Fast. Flying Scotsman was bought, went through a three-year long overhaul worth £1 million and then was set to work. Thing is, that overhaul had a number of red flags surrounding it - perhaps most notable being the fitting of an A4 boiler working at 250psi. Now, for those unaware - the original A1 class ran at 180psi, and the upgraded A3 class ran at 225psi. The engine was being run at a pressure it was extremely unfit to operate with.
It would be a bit like fitting a massive V12 motor to a Honda Accord. Yes, the car will move extremely fast and look impressive and move for a while, but every other piece of that car will deteriorate rapidly due to the pressure it's all under. Now transfer that to a steam locomotive - one where to reach that pressure, the firebox is under a lot of strain.
Flying Scotsman failed a lot during the Marchington era, and it's not surprising why. The poor engine was literally falling to pieces - as one NRM staffmember noted: "On our first inspection, the rear drivers had been removed to deal with bearing problems. The visiting NRM team was most unimpressed with the quality of work being done on the bearings. Other examples of poor workmanship (of which I cannot remember the detail) were evident on inspection.”
Please note, the bearings and valves had all recently been replaced.
Also note, Tony Marchington was under pressure from the shareholders of Flying Scotsman PLC - a company he set up - to make money, and so many of the fitters working on the engine may have been given far, far too many constraints in time and budget to properly overhaul the engine, in essence needing to just 'do the bare minimum to get it back in service'...
And this is the condition the NRM bought 4472 Flying Scotsman in.
The National Railway Museum:
All of the above is an indication of the condition that Flying Scotsman was in when bought in 2004 - but that only tells about half of the story. The other half is a bunch of issues surrounding the purchase, certification and understanding of just how bad things were. And make no mistake, the NRM is not blameless in this circus - it just managed to inherit a bad situation and then fumble with it until they sat down and figured out what had happened.
Let's take a moment to look at the AEAT report that the NRM got, then compare it to reality:
The AEAT report stated that:
"Whilst it was not possible to complete a thorough examination of the locomotive, or to witness it in steam, the condition of the locomotive has been monitored regularly as part of the VAB audit process. Taking this into consideration, it is considered that the general mechanical condition is satisfactory for continued operation, subject to effective maintenance, until the next General Overhaul in 2006. The scope of mechanical overhaul is not anticipated to be extensive but will involve strip down of the motion and axleboxes to gauge wear and remedial action. The cylinders all require re-lining and boring to nominal diameter."
The reality of the condition of the engine was far from this rather rosy portrayal given by AEAT. For starters, the engine was not properly examined, and several areas of testing were 'not possibly to be checked adequately' for a variety of reasons, including:
the locomotive was being prepared for a test run
equipment failure
4472 Flying Scotsman not being in steam
Anyone notice something off? Why exactly can the company not see how the engine is when in steam if the engine is being prepared for a test run?
Furthermore, AEAT had been the VAB (Vehicle Acceptance Body) for Flying Scotsman for 14 years by this point and finding a huge number of faults at this point very much would have raised questions about their work. More probably, the company had grown accustomed to the engine working, and simply assumed everything was satisfactory unless demonstratable to the contrary. Like the NRM admitted:
"[T]he previous owner’s VAB may not have been the best choice of inspector."
Thing is, AEAT included pictures in their report, but most of these were of the air brake compressor, locomotive air brake, tender air brake cylinders, TPWS antenna selection switch and the TPWS antenna mounting arrangements, which while critical to obtaining permission to operate on Network Rail, don't say much about the actual condition of the engine. And the photos that were of the actual mechanical parts of the engine were... telling.
The Stay Nuts in the firebox are rusting, melting and missing. And that wasn't the only major issue with the engine - several of which were extremely dangerous:
the Robinson superheater header doors had been seal welded;
other inspection doors had also been seal welded;
Repairs to defective studs on the superheater header were needed;
the smokebox door locking mechanism was broken;
the firebox stays needed caulking;
the boiler mountings and pipework in the cab was considered dangerous;
the air brake reservoirs were overdue re-certification;
two tender springs needed replacing;
Re-metalling one crosshead was needed, which resulted in having to remove the bogie, and led to the discovery that the piston rods were incorrectly fitted to the crossheads and required extensive repairs in order to make them fit properly;
Removal of the 'belly' access door in the bottom of the boiler barrel in order to remove a build-up of some 6 inches of sludge;
one of the tender wheel tyres was flat;
the air pump needed repairs;
the vital axlebox oil pads which were long overdue for replacement;
the tender handbrake just didn't work and needed repairs;
121 boiler tubes needed replacement (2004);
the boiler itself needed replacement (2006);
Foundation ring heavily corroded and cracked;
a large number of latent fractures throughout the whole of the locomotive's frame assembly;
the valves and bearings were faulty or broken;
there was a serious crack in the right-hand cylinder;
the entire firebox itself was in desperate need of replacement;
the boiler washout plugs had been fitted with domestic gas plugs;
the wheels are all in need of re-turning;
the frame hornblocks are all cracked;
one of the driving wheels was bent;
the frame stretchers were all cracked and beyond repair;
The centre-cylinder motion bracket also had cracks;
The frames were wrongly aligned;
And the frame's horn ties were scrap, and needed to be remade.
That is thirty separate issues that the NRM discovered between 2004 and 2012 restoring the Flying Scotsman. The Flying Scotsman needed such a complete overhaul to be restored that some people argued that it would cheaper to just build an entirely new engine.
A completely new version of this engine:
And remember, AEAT certified this engine to run on the mainline. The Flying Scotsman had turned into a literal moving death trap under its various owners, and I am not surprised it cost the NRM £4.2 million to rebuild Flying Scotsman.
In summary, 4472 Flying Scotsman was about as sick as an engine could get when it arrived at the NRM. The amount of work required to fix the poor engine was extensive - and some may argue unjustified. Personally, I disagree. Yes, Flying Scotsman cost a ridiculous amount of money to save and rebuild - but this is not an engine who would ever accept living on a plinth in a museum. This is an engine with a fascinating history filled with trials, tribulations and triumphs; and in my opinion the Flying Scotsman's place is on the mainline. Will there be a day when the old engine has to be withdrawn and placed in the NRM? Probably - it's the oldest mainline certified engine in the UK already, and it's not getting any younger. But by that same token, Flying Scotsman went through a massive, extensive overhaul to ensure that generations to come could see the majestic A3 doing what it always did best, and there's something truly inspiring about that.
A big thank you to the NRM for saving Flying Scotsman, and an even bigger 'what the hell?' to the people who almost destroyed it by being careless.
The pictures used in this post do not belong to me. All pictures belong to their owners. If you wish to read the NRM Flying Scotsman report yourself, this is the URL, and a hyperlink to its archived form on the Wayback Machine:
#weirdowithaquill#railways#real railway stuff#Flying Scotsman#4472 Flying Scotsman#NRM#The National Railway Museum#Flying Scotsman very nearly didn't get his happy ending#There was a lot wrong#this stuff is crazy#long reads#very long post#lner a3#wayback machine
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the Killers by Tony Gough
#the killers#brandon flowers#ronnie vannucci#pressure machine#pressure machine era#pm era#pm photoshoot#by tony gough#my stuff#these are all medium quality and get their own post
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I was tagged by @glass-clown , thanks a bunch-a!
Last song you listened to: ヘドバンギャー！!/Headbangeeeeerrrrr!!!!!!! by Babymetal ^^ ~
Currently reading: The tutorials for Post-Shift 2. Here's a copypasta that has One page of the night 6 tutorial.
Currently watching: Hmmm mostly Astral Spiff's vods (I'm working through all of Lethal Comoany, currently) video essays? The last of which was "Why Did We Forget Baldi's Basics?" By Minaxa
Currently obsessed with: Modded Lethal Company, my friends' very cool creature collector idea, still Bendy & the Ink Machine, some Sonic (specifically Sega Genesis & some Dreamcast era stuff)...
I will tag (in no particular order): @artnerd1123 @bleudinosaur @sapphireclaw @lightkrets312 @fvaleraye @carnation-damnation @captainshyguy @footsteps-on-the-dance-floor , & anyone else is free to hop on! No pressure, have fun !
#gale chatter#if i was on desktop i would make a template for the chain but hc of how mobile works it won't behave#tag games#you do not need to use links as liberally as I did I just like to link a lot
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Tagged by @parts-of-me-unravelling, thank you kindly ^_^
Last song: Sparks - You Were Meant For Me
(last non-Sparks song: exist†trace - 夢にキスを)
Favorite colour: Black
Currently watching: You've somehow caught me at a rare moment where I'm not watching anything. I most recently re-watched Sense8, which I love but I tend to prefer things that have a little less violence in it.
Spicy/savoury/sweet: At the moment sweet. Candy and fruit - hell yeah :) (I don't cope with spicy at all, so that's never the answer.)
Relationship status: a happy singular entity of many years, though more recently I'm questioning if I've changed my mind and want this to change at some point.
Current obsession: Sparks forever and always <3 (More specifically I'm currently fixating on getting my Sparks files in order, which has been consistently taking up pretty much all my time. Once that's done I'll probably go back to trying to draw as much as possible and grow my skills as I feel a little stuck there.) My other obsessions (most notably Good Omens and The Owl House) are currently in hybernation but never far away :)
(I'm going to add some things to make this tag game more tailored to the Sparks community, as I'll be tagging Sparks people ^_^ Reply to it any way that feels natural to you, as I am well aware of how hard it may be to answer things.)
What made you a Sparks fan: Good Morning/Exotic Creatures Of The Deep. Ron's existence. Seeing them live. Russell's entire everything.
Sparks era(s) closest to your heart: Two Hands One Mouth (the start of my journey but also those shows were truly something else) and Latte (what a next level album and tour!). (I'm being rigorous here and only picking two things.)
Favourite music video: My Baby's Taking Me Home
Dream show(s) if you had a time machine (max. 3 to keep it interesting): Balls, 21x21 performance of Indiscreet, Exotic Creatures Of The Deep. (For people who have to answer this in the future, yes I too am tortured by my own limit of 3. There's shows I was at and wish I could go see again but I guess that's what youtube is for.)
I'm going to try my best to tag as many people as possible, no pressure though! (Sorry if you've been tagged before or if I managed to forget to include you - consider yourself tagged by me if you want to be. Also if you've already done this before but want to answer the added questions, go for it! I'd love to see your answers!)
@votedmostlikelytofail, @cilogram, @dinkydiamond, @where-did-the-groove-go, @bawnjourno, @sparklepants123, @ron-do-i-get-to-sing-my-way, @heart-worm, @crystalblast, @whompthatsucker1981, @crinklecutfry, @reeny829, @adreamofroses, @pearlsandpetticoats, @betweentimeand42, @wombooooo, @8vb-girl, @carcarrot, @taintmansion, @zurdta, @glampacked, @drnutsack, @new-wave-worm, @bronskibeet, @glacenoire, @jefffreybeaumont
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Theres a trend I've noticed with the current era of minecraft modding.
It's a sort of... professionalism? We're seeing a lot more mods made by large teams rather than single creators. Theres also a lot more focus - theres a definite trend of larger mods with many distinct features being split up into multiple separate mods for each distinct feature, if that makes sense. That's probably largely driven by curseforge's revenue scheme - I guess it's more profitable to have 5 mods with 1 main feature and a million downloads each, than 1 mod with all 5 features and a million downloads.
I don't know if this corresponds to the latter trend or the former but theres a definite increase in library mods - mod makers are building a lot more infrastructure for their work but each team is building their own library.
And I really don't know how I feel about all this.
This trend of professionalism has lead to an increase in quality but it feels like its come at the cost of creativity - theres an obsession with fitting into the vanilla game, both mechanically and artistically. It feels like modern mods are focused on expanding and fleshing out the vanilla game in a cohesive way, in stark contrast to how earlier mods used vanilla as just a platform to build their own stuff. And I feel like this is a good thing, but I also feel sad for what came before.
And I really think you can trace this change back to minecraft's change in artstyle. Programmer Art is aptly named - the original graphics were quick and dirty textures thrown together so they could get on with making the actual game. And this fostered a lot of creativity in the modding community - a community largely comprised of programmers - who could imitate this artstyle very easily. The new artstyle is great, don't get me wrong, but it pressures modmakers to match it. This means the old generation of simply textured box machines look out of place in the new graphics. When the old graphics were simple it didn't feel wrong to have something wildly different thrown in there - think Thaumcraft's inexplicably 128x128 textures in a 16x16 game, or whatever the fuck was happening with draconic evolution - whereas the obvious thought and care put into the official art makes anything even remotely out of place look wrong.
This is definitely a factor in the increase of larger teams - it's a lot harder for one person to make a whole mod and a whole set of cohesive textures. And when something looks professional theres a pressure to make it function professionally as well - if it's going to fit in with the vanilla game visually it's going to have to fit in mechanically as well.
And again, I don't think this is necessarily a bad thing - indeed, this could all just be a result of the modding community maturing. But I do have some problems with it:
Firstly, I think its notable that previous eras of modding are associated with a specific version - 1.6.4, 1.7.10, 1.12.2. That's not the case now. There seems to be a lot more pressure to update to the latest version, which is combined with a sudden increase in vanilla update frequency. I think this has pretty drastic consequences. When the modding scene stayed still, as it did in 1.7.10 and 1.12.2, theres a lot of time for mods to get used to each other. Think back to 1.7.10 where magic mods were including references and counters to each other. With the much faster development to get every mod updated to the latest version with different mods getting updated at different times theres much less opportunity for intrinsic cross mod compatibility. This is combined with the recent split between fabric and forge, resulting in mods that ironically look very similar but with much less conscious compatibility.
Theres also something off about the art style. Theres a sort of shared style that you see across a lot of popular mods right now. It's not just that they look like vanilla textures - because in large part they look more like each other than they do vanilla. Idk if that makes sense. It's like theres a consistent artstyle for mods that is ever so slightly different from the art style of vanilla.
And this, of course, brings us to the elephant in the room.
They all look like fucking Create.
I said earlier that I thought these changes could all be traced back to the change in vanilla artstyle - and I still think that's true - but when you're tracing it back the line inevitably runs through that one mod.
Create was huge. Back when modding was still getting used to the artstyle changes, Create I think solidified the entire era. It was an aesthetically pleasing, stylistically cohesive, mechanically balanced and technically astounding mod. It was big enough to draw attention from vanilla players who had never played modded before then, bringing them in with expectations formed by it. Which, in turn, created a pressure in the community to replicate this success.
I'm gonna be honest - Create annoys me. I dislike the artstyle. I dislike the obsession with aesthetics and vanilla-like gameplay over functionality. I especially dislike how its found in literally every modpack for recent versions.
But (reluctantly) putting aside my dislike of Create, I begrudgingly admit that all in all, these trends are overall good for modding. As I said earlier, they're a sign of a maturing community. But I'll still miss how mods in earlier eras were much more free to be completely batshit, or pure functionality (rftools and mahou tsukai come to mind as mods that have largely ignored the changes in the community). Every era has it's own feel and if what's new isnt for me, that's fine. Maybe I'm just old and bitter and this is all in my own head - I'm not a modder, I've just been playing this game a long time.
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needed: a better hiding spot (CWFKB #18)
Butterfly kiss, Canon Era, pining~ @codywanfirstkissbingo
“Here.”
Cody barely has a moment to register the pressure of Obi-Wan’s hand around his wrist before he’s pulled sideways. The door slides shut behind them with a click that echoes in the recesses of Cody’s brain, the final notch in a tally he’s been keeping since he first walked onto the bridge and saw Obi-Wan. He is completely and utterly fucked.
The cupboard — because calling it anything else would be an insult — is lined on both walls with shelving. Cody blinks in the sudden and complete darkness, waiting for his eyes to adjust. His helmet lies discarded somewhere on a higher level, a lucky shot cracking the visor and rendering it unusable, but the small beacon wired into it would still be active and they would be found. Eventually. Cody may be dead by then, his heart which carries by itself a price tag of seven hundred credits giving out due to the strain of how close Obi-Wan is to him. He can make out the flutter of Obi-Wan’s lashes, the faint floral scent that clings to his breath as he sighs, his mouth pursing into a faint whistle.
It is how they trained them in Kamino, whistles and hand gestures, twisting them one way and then the other like a pack of hunting shrills, and Cody looks where Obi-Wan indicates. He can just make out the impression of his hand, one still wrapped around Cody’s wrist, the blunt reflective sheen of a callus that swallows up the side of his thumb, before Obi-Wan releases him. His hand falls to his side and Cody misses the moment of contact. It would be for the best. He is used to surviving on rations stretched as far as they could go and Obi-Wan’s touch could be divided up similarly.
“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan murmurs. His face is tipped towards Cody’s ear, his hair falling free from the rough bun he had hurriedly tidied himself into before they stepped onto the ship and the strands fall across Cody’s shoulder like a tidal wave. There’s an absence of scent to it, the neutral nothingness that comes with the products supplied to the clones, and Cody’s thoughts slowly tip into Obi-Wan in the showers before he tears himself back into rote procedure.
He’s dead. He is never going to leave this cupboard.
Cody swallows and the sound echoes in the cavern of his skull, too loud to be anything other than a point blank blaster cocked against his temple. “Sorry for what, sir?”
Obi-Wan catches himself on the edge of a laugh, biting it back as his shoulders shake. He lowers his head, pressing his forehead to Cody’s shoulder before he breathes in and straightens up once more. Grief breaks into fragments across his brow blending with the lingering joy, his lower lip caught between his teeth. He clears his throat softly and Cody’s attention snapping back to him. “I should have tried to pick a better hiding spot,” Obi-Wan says, an apology layered beneath his words. He presses his regrets into Cody’s hip, the motion hidden from the door by the bulk of their bodies and the fall of Obi-Wan’s robes, close but still apart.
“Next time, I’d like one that has a caf machine installed.” Cody leans into Obi-Wan’s touch still. It is like he is starving, trying to tear himself away from a banquet. He can carve half-moons into his flesh from the jagged edges of his nails and sear the brush of Obi-Wan’s fingertips into his bones and it will never be enough. He wants to kiss him, but he can’t. Cody is a good soldier, he follows his orders, and Obi-Wan is his General. There isn’t a space for them yet, not here, not like this.
“I will try my best in the future.”
They are silent for a long moment. Distantly, the wail of an alarm begins to sound and the light bleeding through the narrow gap of the doors flickers a deep red. In the fresh hue, Cody looks up at Obi-Wan, meeting his gaze. “What are you thinking, sir?”
“Lots of things,” Obi-Wan answers automatically. His mouth curves into a small smile that doesn’t go anywhere near his eyes, the same expression he wears when a politician breaks into his orbit, manufactured politeness brandished like a saber to get them away from him. Cody doesn’t know what the Force feels like, how an entire universe's worth of input could cram itself into a single person’s mind, but he squeezes Obi-Wan’s hand. A tremor runs through the other man, a realigning of planets because of Cody’s touch and he wonders if the Force feels better than this, if shifting the flow of the universe could compare to holding Obi-Wan’s hand.
Obi-Wan continues, his voice perfectly level in stark opposition to the shiver rattling his teeth. “I am thinking that I really would like to kiss you.”
Cody starts, his breath tearing through his chest before he rights himself in the same moment, perfected Kaminoan engineering at work. “I’d like you to kiss me.”
“Not like this, but—” Obi-Wan cups Cody’s jaw in his free hand, smoothing his thumb over Cody’s cheek, “—hold still, love.”
Cody obeys. The ship could fall out of the sky and every single one of his brothers could tear open the door to this cupboard and Cody wouldn’t move. Obi-Wan leans closer, pressing his cheek to Cody’s before he turns his face closer. He blinks deliberately, his lashes dragging against Cody’s skin, his breath warm as he exhales, and Cody closes his eyes. He wants to remember this. It is an unconventional kiss, but they have never done things in the typical way.
Obi-Wan straightens slowly. “I will be able to kiss you properly after the war.”
“I liked that kiss,” Cody murmurs, his voice cracking, his cheeks suddenly burning. Obi-Wan chuckles, squeezing Cody’s hand once more.
“I’m glad.”
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A starship engine room buckles under pressure when Sally pushes her to give more than she's got, but a well placed plynumal diverter might make all the difference in, "The Battle for Lunar Prime"
Other Timelines, Other Lifetimes Series…
Other Timelines, Other Lifetimes Series - The Astounding Wonders of Spacetime Sally, envisioned as a 1920s/30s pulp era sci-fi serial, this timeline/lifetime would see Captain Sally Hannigan as the number one ace pilot of Metropolitan Star Command defending and protecting earth’s capitol city, New St. Vivian, a sprawling metropolis and home to earth’s first spaceport.
...
Again, I gave the above storyline blurb to ChatGPT-4 to turn it into a old-timey sci-fi radio serial:
Esteemed listeners, connoisseurs of interstellar intrigue, prepare yourselves for an episode of 'Spacetime Sally' that will set your hearts racing and your spirits soaring! In the gripping installment titled 'The Battle for Lunar Prime,' our fearless Sally is at the helm of her trusty starship, facing a challenge that tests the very limits of man and machine.
As the engine room groans and creaks under the immense strain, our heroine demands the impossible from her valiant vessel, pushing her beyond the boundaries of endurance in a desperate bid to turn the tide of conflict. The very stars themselves hold their breath as the ship teeters on the brink of catastrophe!
Yet, in the crucible of this cosmic contest, a glimmer of hope shines forth—a well placed plynumal diverter, an arcane device of unknown potential, may just be the key to salvation. Can Sally implement this enigmatic mechanism in time to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat?
Join us for 'The Battle for Lunar Prime,' a tale of daring, determination, and the indomitable will to prevail. Witness as Sally navigates the perils of the cosmos, where every second counts and the fate of Lunar Prime hangs in the balance!
Tune in, dear listeners, for an episode replete with suspense, heroism, and the relentless pursuit of triumph in the face of overwhelming odds. 'Spacetime Sally' is set to embark on an adventure where the echoes of her deeds will resonate across the universe!
#scifi#science fiction#space girl#retro futuristic#retro futurism#retro#vintage style#vintage fashion#vintage scifi#vintage science fiction#1920s#1920s fashion#art#artwork#ai art#ai artwork#sci fi#scifiart#retro scifi#scifi art#scifi aesthetic#scifi fantasy#sci fi art
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HAPPY 70th BIRTHDAY GEDDY!!!!
(meme credit to u/rtphokie on reddit)
OH, AND WHAT’S THAT?!?! IT’S ALSO THE 49th ANNIVERSARY OF NEIL PEART JOINING RUSH?!?!
In order to celebrate these wondrous occasions, I have compiled 70 reasons why I love Rush (especially Geddy):
70. They don't have any unlistenable albums. I can put on any Rush album and at the very least enjoy it, which is saying a lot!
69. ANDDDD they have 19 studio albums!!! 167 songs!!!
68. Alex's iconic Hall of Fame induction speech.
67. The movie I Love You, Man. The main plot of that is just two guys geeking out about Rush and then going to see them in concert.
66. The Bb5 in "Cygnus X-1 Book 1: The Voyage". For the record, the other famous Bb5 sung by a male singer in rock is the high note in "Bohemian Rhapsody", sung by Roger Taylor.
65. Geddy's range in general. Say what you will about his voice, but he had range.
64. Their pre-concert videos.
63. "Hey baby it's 7:45 and I need to go to bed soon, let's fuck"- In the Mood. The debut album was something else, man.
62. They wrote songs during soundcheck when they were on tour. This includes songs like "Tom Sawyer" and "Chemistry".
61. They went to a Yes concert while recording Caress of Steel, and almost quit making the album. I, for one, am very glad they didn't!
60. The "rap" in "Roll the Bones". Sit back, relax, get busy with the facts...
59. Gene Simmons thought they weren't into women because they didn't want to party with KISS. True story!
58. They listed their baseball positions in the liner notes for Signals.
57. Neil wrote lyrics to a song using only anagrams. The song is called "Anagram (For Mongo)", and is on the album Presto.
56. They thanked themselves in the liner notes for Hemispheres. Listed as Dirk, Lerxst, and Pratt, ofc!
55. They would challenge themselves to write last-minute songs. Results of this experiment include "Hand Over Fist" from Presto, and "Malignant Narcissism" from Snakes and Arrows.
54. The mere existence of "A Passage to Bangkok". I wonder what their thought process was to put a song about smoking weed around the world after a 20-minute long dystopian prog rock epic...
53. "La Villa Strangiato". Just... everything about it.
52. The kimonos. You know the ones!
51. Their nicknames for each other!! (see above)
50. They had the second-longest stable line up in rock music! The only ones with a longer stable line up was ZZ Top.
49. They had a 40-year career! Even longer if you include pre-Neil and their adventures since the R40 tour.
48. The synth era. I unapologetically love 80s Rush, especially Grace Under Pressure and Power Windows.
47. "The Necromancer" basically being self-insert Tolkien fanfic. I wonder who the "three travelers" are supposed to be... OH WAIT!
46. They're giant nerds. All prog bands are, but they are especially nerdy.
45. Hugh Syme's awesome album covers. He did every single one from Caress of Steel onwards, barring the front cover for Snakes and Arrows.
44. The 7/8 section in "Tom Sawyer". That was my first intermediate bass line! Thanks, Geddy!
43. They're Canadian icons. Unironically, they're the first thing that comes to mind when someone mentions "Canada" to me.
42. The horribly cheesy, terrible, but also really funny music video for "Time Stand Still". That song, btw, might be my favorite 80s Rush song, and is probably in my Top 5.
41. The triple-entendre pun of Moving Pictures. They're filming a movie (moving picture) of people moving paintings (moving pictures), while someone is getting moved by the scene (moving...pictures...).
40. They quote the 1812 Overture in the overture for "2112".
39. Geddy taught Les Claypool how to properly play "YYZ".
38. The Permanent Waves era glasses!
37. The opening of "Xanadu".
36. The weird stuff Geddy would have on his side of stage after he stopped using amps. This includes rotisserie chickens, washing machines, dryers, and popcorn machines.
35. "Music by Lee and Lifeson, Lyrics by Peart" on almost every single Rush song.
34. The ending of "Spirit of Radio". OF SALESMEN!!!
33. Their inside jokes. Example: The Bag.
32. They took French classes together, and began announcing their songs in French in Quebec.
31. The progressiveness of Counterparts. What other 40-year old rockstars were talking about healthy relationship boundaries and openly supporting gay people in 1993?
30. Their vaults are practically empty because they scrapped songs that weren't up to their standards. This is why we have no sub-par Rush material!
29. Choosing to end their careers with grace.
28. Ending the last show of their career with "Working Man", the song that got everything started.
27. "Dreamline"--"Learning that we're only immortal / For a limited time".
26. Geddy and Alex inducting Yes into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2017.
25. Then, of course, Geddy playing "Roundabout" with Yes during their induction! (Unfortunately, he did not play his Rickenbacker :( )
24. No decisions were made regarding the band without it being unanimous.
23. "Closer to the Heart". To me, that song is like a musical representation of their friendship, and it always leaves me with a warm, fuzzy feeling after listening to it.
22. Neil's books. Ghost Rider, in particular helped me get through a rough time earlier this year.
21. Geddy's Big Beautiful Book of Bass. I love that thing, and I am looking forward to his memoir in November!!!
20. That incredible Rickenbacker. I know it hasn't been his main bass since the early 80s but...
19. All their other creative projects. Geddy and Alex have a solo album each, Alex is involved with Envy of None rn, and Neil had his blog.
18. All their other stage interactions.
17. "ATTENTION ALL PLANETS OF THE SOLAR FEDERATION! WE HAVE ASSUMED CONTROL!" -"2112". Just... all of "2112".
16. They got me into prog. I wouldn't have this blog right now if it weren't for Rush.
15. The Lifeson chord. The F#7add11 voicing that you can hear in so many of their songs (it's the opening to "Cygnus X-1 Book II: Hemispheres").
14. Neil's drumming. They call him The Professor for a reason!
13. Geddy's bass playing. And his singing. And playing keys. And... yeah, we would be here all day!
12. The Dinner with Rush video. I make daily references to this that no one notices...
11. "The measure of a life / is a measure of love and respect"- "The Garden". The final song on their final album, and possibly the most amazing closer of all time.
10. Their charity work. IIRC, this includes giving away the aforementioned rotisserie chickens, as well as various fundraisers.
9. Their constant strive to improve themselves. Including Geddy working with a vocal coach, Neil working with Freddie Gruber, and of course, disavowing that Ayn Rand shit.
8. They give me something to strive towards, both as a musician and as a person. If I could make records half as good as Rush, and handle the fame with half the grace that they did, I would consider myself well-accomplished.
7. Neil's lyrics inspired me to get back into writing.
6. They inspired me to become a musician, and to pursue a career in music. If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't have stayed in choir or picked up bass, and I would've never considered a career in audio technology.
5. Their music helped me bond with my dad.
4. Geddy talking about his family's story of survival during the Holocaust. I think that's really important to talk about.
3. Other Rush fans. Well, okay, some of them like to brag about how many concerts they've been to, or tend to be a little gate-keep, but most of them are really chill people.
2. Their music helped me get through the toughest times in my life. Without getting too personal, I even credit them with saving my life on multiple occasions.
However, what I admire about Rush, above all else...
1. Their friendship with each other.
Once again, happy birthday Geddy! Your music has inspired me in so many ways, and I wouldn’t be the person I am today without it.
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