#(a topic that i have actually written a paper about) by the end i was ready to punch it in its non-existent face. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

javierpena-inatacvest · 6 months ago

Text

Growing

Summary: After a concerning phone call from his daughter's Principal, Javi goes to find out the true reason why she's really there in the first place.

Word Count: 4.1K

Pairing: Dad!Javi x Wife!reader (No use of y/n)

Warnings: Honestly this is all fluff 😭 Misogyny, dress codes being the dumbest thing in the world, Javi going full dad mode ™️, Javi being the best girl dad, Sappy Dad Javi loving his daughters so much

A/N: This story is inspired by this ask and what started as a short little snippet ended up being 4k long 🥴 I've written so much for Javi being a dad to his younger daughters, but I will fight anyone who says he isn't the best girl dad at every phase of life his daughters are in 🥺 Javi loves all his daughters equally, but I just know he and Lucy have such a special bond and it makes me wanna cry and scream all at once. I ain't gonna lie, ya girl shed a few tears with this one 🥲 oldest daughters with emotionally unavailable fathers gang rise

Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“It should be fucking illegal to work when it’s this hot.”

“How long have you lived in Texas for, you fucking moron? Of course it’s hot. It’s Texas. Stop bitching, you baby.”

“Oh shut up. You’re telling me you're comfortable right now?”

“No, you idiot. It’s hot as Satan’s asshole in here. Of course I’m not. But whining isn’t gonna make it not hot.”

“I know it’s not. Just let me complain, okay? Fuck, I honestly may take Satan’s asshole over this…”

While no one at the Laredo Sheriff’s department was a stranger to the sweltering Texas heat, even Javi couldn’t argue with his fellow co-workers that for a morning in late May, there was no denying it was already miserably hot outside.

He had just finished getting an earful about the topic from his daughters this morning during school drop-off, complaining that they may actually die of heat stroke before the day is done, and that his youngest, Harper, may die from “smelly boy sweat”, since no boy in the 7th grade was wearing enough deodorant as they should be (and that, he couldn’t argue).

“Cater’s right, Miller. Complaining isn’t helping you get all your shit done, and I need that file by the end of the day.” Javi grumbled, surprising Agent Carter and Miller as he passed their desks on the way to his office, making the pair raise their hands in defense in justification of their weather woes.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, don’t worry, it’ll be done before the end of the day. If I don’t melt into a puddle first…” Agent Miller grumbled, sticking his face back into the piles of papers scattered across his desk.

While he would never give his co-workers the satisfaction of knowing he was just as irritated by the early onset heatwave as they were, Javi’s suit jacket was already shed and sleeves were rolled up past his elbows before he had barely made it through his office door.

As he took a seat at his desk, looking over his list of to-do’s for today, he was taken aback to hear the aggressive ringing of his phone this early, wondering what could have already gone so wrong that someone already needed to get a hold of him.

Ring, ring, ringggggg. Ring, ring, ringggg-

“Laredo Sheriff’s Department, this is Peña.”

“Hi Mr. Peña. This is Mr. Wilson, Assistant Principal over at United High School.”

Javi sat up just a little straighter in his desk chair, running his hand over the back of his neck, a jolt of nerves hitting his stomach like he was the one being called down to the principal’s office.

Javi had gotten plenty of phone calls from his daughter’s school throughout the years. Calls to pick one of them up and take them home because they were sick, forgotten lunchboxes and school projects, one justified elementary school fist fight- Javi had pretty much heard it all.

Now that your daughters had reached middle school and high school, the calls home now came few and far between, and most of the time, came from the girls themselves on their own phones, more often than not, in the form of your middle daughter, Elliot, asking if he would come pick her up because school was “the most boring place on earth”.

He took a moment to try and compose himself, knowing that if one of the girls was sick, they would have texted him, or would have gotten a call from an office secretary, and last time he checked, Assistant Principals weren’t calling parents in the middle of a work day just to sprinkle in some good news.

So what in the hell was he calling for?

“Uh, H-hi, Mr. Wilson. Can I ask, um, what uh- what’s the reason for the phone call? Is everything okay?”

“Well Mr. Peña, I’m calling because I’m here with your daughter. Unfortunately, she’s here after a teacher referral for disrespectful and defiant behavior.”

Javi could feel his brow furrow and face scrunch in genuine confusion, practically left speechless by Mr. Wilson’s statement. Sure, his daughter Elliot was going through a little bit of a “phase” right now, but even though she had come out of the womb with an iron will power and enough sass to fuel a small country, she knew better than to talk back to adults, especially her teachers.

“Are- Are you serious? I’m really sorry, Mr. Wilson. Could you um- What did Elliot do?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I should have clarified. While I have had the… pleasure…. of meeting your daughter, Elliot, she’s not the one I’m calling about. Mr. Peña, I’m calling about your daughter, Lucy.”

If the phone call itself wasn’t already enough to knock Javi on his ass, that statement sure as hell was.

“Lucy? There’s no fucking way.” He thought to himself.

In all 12 years Lucy had been in school, the worst thing any teacher had ever had to say about your oldest daughter was that she was an overachiever. Lucy was your classic, type-A oldest daughter- She was a straight A student, captain of her soccer team, a member of every club under the sun, and most importantly, was the kindest kid a parent could ask for. Lucy lived by the rules, so the fact that she went out of her way to break one, let alone be disrespectful about it? Something wasn’t adding up.

“I… Mr. Wilson, I’m sorry, I don’t wanna be rude, but- are you sure you’ve got the right kid?” Javi stammered, still in shock from what he had just heard, wondering when someone was going to walk in and tell him this was some sort of weird prank.

“Oh yes, I’m sure. Mr. Peña, I think it may be best if you and your wife just come down to the school to talk about this.”

“Um, my- my wife is out of town helping her dad out after surgery but uh- yeah, I’ll um, I’ll be there in the next uh- shit…” He muttered, looking down at his watch, quickly calculating in his brain, “the next 30 minutes?”

“Great. We’ll see you then, Mr. Peña. Goodbye.”

“B-bye.”

Javi sat there for a moment, phone still held to his ear as the dial tone rang, shooting in one ear and out the other as he tried to process what had just happened. He shook his head, trying to snap himself out of his confusion enough to let his nerves take over, frantically scrambling to grab his things before storming out of the office even faster than he had entered a few moments ago.

As soon as he was in the car, Javi was frantically dialing your number, backing out of his parking spot and pulling out onto the road like he was being called for some sort of life threatening emergency.

“C’mon, pick up, pick up, pick up…” Javi huffed, anxiously tapping his fingers against his steering wheel, waiting for you to answer.

“Hey, honey! What’s up? Hold on- yes, it’s Javi. Okay. I- yes, I will. All my family says hi and that we miss you! What’s going on?” You answered, an unsuspecting cheer in your tone, just happy to hear his voice.

“Uh- yeah, tell them, I- yeah, I say hi, too.” Javi responded, clearly frazzled and distracted as he sped down the road, wishing he would have taken a police squad car instead of his truck to get to Lucy’s school sooner.

“Javi, what’s going on? Are you okay?” You asked, clearly sensing the concern in his voice.

“I just got a call from the Assistant Principal that Lucy is down in the office because she got a referral for being defiant and disrespectful.”

“Wait, you mean Elliot?”

“No. Lucy.”

“Oh shit.”

“That’s what I thought, too.”

“Did they tell you why? Or what happened? That doesn’t seem like her at all. She- she knows better than that? And how much trouble she’d be in?”

“No, I’m going down to the school right now. If I wasn’t already sweating bad enough because it’s hot as fuck here today, I sure fucking am now.” Javi grumbled, pushing up his sleeves further before wiping the sweat accumulating on his forehead, sticking his dark curls to his skin.

“Hey, hey, Jav. I’m sure it will be okay. I’m sure there’s gotta be a reason. Take a few deep breaths, okay? Please just keep me posted.”

“Okay. I-I will.”

“It’ll be okay, Papa Bear. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

With a quick beep on the other end of the phone, Javi set down his phone in his lap, wrapping his fingers around the wheel with an iron grip and clenching his jaw until it hurt, turning on the radio as loud as it could go to drown out the “what-if’s” dancing around his mind in what was going to be the world’s longest 10 minute drive to United High School.

Javi had found himself in plenty of stressful situations throughout his life. Hell, stress was a given working as a DEA agent in Colombia trying to take down the biggest drug lords of the 20th century. Yet somehow, Javi found himself just as nervous, if not more, as he walked into the main office of Lucy’s high school, trying to figure out what she had done that was worthy of a trip to the Assistant Principal.

After some directions from one of the secretaries, Javi found Mr. Wilson’s office door, giving it a few raps before it was answered by a short and stout older man, his poorly balding head adorned with a limited amount of scraggly gray hairs and face painted with an unamused half-smile.

“Mr. Peña? Please, come in and take a seat.” Mr. Wilson sighed, gesturing to an open chair next to his daughter, sitting with her arms crossed over her chest and eyes peeled to the floor, seemingly trying to shrink herself as small as possible into her chair.

Before Javi could even ask Lucy what was going on or if she was okay, Mr. Wilson had already begun on his rant, promptly taking a seat behind his desk with a deep sigh, forcing the attention onto him.

“Well Mr. Peña, I’m sorry to have to call you in from your job, but I felt that this was something that more than warranted a parental visit. As if it wasn’t bad enough she is already deliberately breaking our school’s dress code, Lucy's already been one of several students down here today who have had the audacity to argue with both teachers and myself about the issue.”

Just as Javi was about to speak, he stopped himself in disbelief, trying to process what he had just heard, looking over at Lucy, trying to hold back her tears before turning back to Mr. Wilson.

“I’m- I’m sorry, I think I must be missing something. This is about what Lucy’s wearing?” Javi asked, scratching the back of his head in confusion.

“Yes.” Mr. Wilson replied, almost annoyed that Javi’s immediate response was shock, rather than anger. “Our dress code clearly states that girls may not wear shorts below fingertip length or tank tops that are less than 3 fingers thick across the strap. It’s a distraction for both male staff and students. As your daughter is a Junior, this rule should come as no surprise to her. On top of this, she and a few other girls in the hallway this morning were written up for resisting coming to the office after teachers on dress code duty had written them up.”

Javi had to visibly shake his head, trying to make sure he had really understood what he had just heard as his jaw hung open in disbelief. He took a deep breath, trying not to laugh to himself out of shock and building anger, asking one more time to make sure he truly comprehended this was the reason for the phone call this morning.

“I’m sorry, I really think I must not be understanding this.”

“That’s not what happened…” Lucy quietly piped in, eyes still glued to the floor.

“Please, Ms. Peña, why don’t you enlighten us, then?” Mr. Wilson replied, a sarcastic delight in his tone.

“I was on my way to second period when I got stopped by one of the teachers in the hallway. She told me that she needed to measure my tank top and shorts to make sure they were up to dress code. I knew they were kinda short but it’s like, a million degrees outside today and everyone is miserable because the air conditioning doesn’t work in half the rooms on the second floor.” Lucy paused, sitting up a little taller in her chair, looking over at her dad, her face filled riddled with guilt. Javi looked back at her, quietly nodding in reassurance for her to keep going.

“But um, the teacher said that my shorts were too short, and that I needed to go to the office so they could write me a dress code referral. But I had a huge presentation that I’ve been working on that I was supposed to give today for my second period science class, and Ms. Feltmate told us that if we miss the presentation portion of our project, we get an automatic 20% reduction in our grade. I’ve worked so hard on that project, and I told the teacher in the hallway I couldn’t go because I’d miss my presentation. She told me she didn’t care, and that I should have known better, and then I told her it wasn’t fair that she’s going to ruin my grade on this project because of my shorts when literally everyone in the school is breaking dress code today because it’s so hot out. I tried to tell her I’d even go before 3rd period so I didn’t have to miss my presentation but she told me she didn’t believe me and that she was going to write me up. So, I’ve been down here until you came. I’m- I’m sorry, Dad.”

At this point, tears were welling in Lucy’s eyes, her voice quivering and bottom lip trembling, trying to keep from completely sobbing in front of her Dad and Assistant Principal, looking up at Javi with regret and shame for what she’d done.

If Javi wasn’t upset before his daughter’s testimony, now, he was absolutely fuming. Javi was using every ounce of composure he had left to keep from completely exploding as he readjusted himself in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he locked eyes with Mr. Wilson.

“Mr. Wilson, what period should Lucy be in right now?” Javi asked, trying to keep as calm as possible while he waited for Mr. Wilson’s surprised response.

“Uh- I believe 4th period just started? Why?”

“So you mean to tell me, Mr. Wilson, that not only has my daughter missed out on a huge presentation that she has spent countless hours working on, she’s also missed out on two other classes because you think that keeping her here in your office because of her shorts is more important than her learning?”

Mr. Wilson stared back at Javi in a silent shock, taken aback that he was in fact, not on his side at all, and was seconds away from absolutely ripping him a new one for what he had done to his daughter.

“Well, y-yes, but-” Mr. Wilson stammered, trying to rebuttal.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. I’m sorry, Mr. Wilson, but this is the goddamn stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Lucy is a straight A student. She cares more about school than any kid I’ve ever met. She is smart, and hard working, and the fact that you wanna actively punish her for that just because she’s wearing shorts when it’s the hottest damn day of the year is absolutely fucking ridiculous. Second of all, if playing dress code police is more important to you than girls going to class because some teenage creeps, better yet, staff members can’t keep it in their pants, you’ve got a way bigger issue on your hands than what my daughter chooses to wear to school.”

A stark silence hung in the air for a moment filled with mixture of Javi’s fumes, Lucy’s shock and surprise, and Mr. Wilson’s overwhelming embarrassment at the situation he had brought upon himself. Before Mr. Wilson could even try to muster out some sort of defense, Javi was already standing up out of his chair, nudging Lucy to do the same.

“Grab your stuff, Lu, we’re going.”

“Mr. Peña, let me assure you that-”

“Mr. Wilson, the only thing you need to assure me is that you’re going to explain to her teacher where Lucy was wasting her time this morning so she can give her presentation for full credit, and that I’m not gonna hear from you again in regards to what my kid wears to school when it’s 105 degrees outside. Have a nice day.”

Without another word, Javi was already halfway out the door, Lucy quickly following behind him as he signed her out for the rest of the day before silently storming out to his truck slamming the door behind him as Lucy sheepishly crawled into the passenger side, setting her backpack between her feet.

“Dad, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“Lu, I’m not mad at you. You have nothing to apologize for. You think I’d be upset with you because of that?”

“Well, I don’t know, I mean, I did technically break the rules, and you had to leave work to come here, and-”

“Hey.” Javi paused, putting a hand on Lucy’s shoulder, getting her to take her eyes out of her lap and look at him, “Lucy, I’m proud of you. You stood up for yourself for something that was clearly important to you when you knew what other people were doing wasn’t right. I could never be mad at you for that.”

Finally, a small smile pursed the edges of Lucy’s lips, shrugging her shoulders to try and play off her dad’s compliment, even though they both knew Javi was more than right to be proud of what his daughter had done.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Of course, Lu. I’m being serious though, what you did takes a lotta balls. You should be proud of yourself.” Javi smiled, giving Lucy a little nudge with the hand still placed on her shoulder.

“Ew, Dad, gross.” Lucy sighed, rolling her eyes as she playfully shoved her Dad’s arm off her, the pair quietly laughing to themselves.

“You promise I’m not in trouble?” Lucy asked again, raising an eyebrow at her dad.

“The only punishment I’m making you endure is forcing you to spend some time with your old man for the rest of the day.” Javi smirked, fastening his seatbelt before looking over his shoulder to back out of his haphazard park job.

“Could be worse.” Lucy teased, giving her Dad a little shrug, secretly excited that not only had her Dad stood up for her without a second thought, but was letting her ditch school to spend time together. While at the ripe age of 17, she wouldn’t admit it out loud, Lucy knew how lucky she was to have a dad like hers. “Do we have to listen to your old man music while we drive, or is that also part of the punishment?”

“Yup. No Jonas Brothers for this drive, Lucy Lu.”

“Dad, I haven’t listened to the Jonas Brothers in years. I don’t even like them anymore.” Lucy laughed, cringing at Javi’s presumed music interests for her. “That’s okay, I don’t mind your old man music. You’re better than Mom. She’s been on a huge ABBA kick every time we drive to soccer practice, and if I hear “Gimmie, Gimmie, Gimmie” one more time, my ears may bleed.”

Reaching over the center console Lucy grabbed the aux cord, plugging in her phone, scrunching her face in concentration as she scrolled through a few different playlists until landing on something that seemed to fit the bill, setting her phone in her lap while turning up the volume.

Dun.

Dunnnadnun.

Dunanun.

Javi couldn’t help but smile at Lucy’s pick of “Back in Black” by AC/DC, one of Lucy’s favorite songs her and Javi would listen to on her drives hockey practices and games when she was little, claiming the song gave her special powers to “kick boys butts” when she played.

“Damn, you must really want me to kick your ass in putt putt, huh?” Javi teased, hinting at his makeshift plans for the rest of the afternoon.

“Really? That's what we're doing? Dad, no offense, but you suck at putt putt. Are you trying to make this easy for me? Because if that’s the case, then I’ll start planning my flavor choice for my extra scoop of winner’s ice cream now.”

“Whatever you say, smartass.”

After 18 holes of mini-golf, Javi couldn’t even pretend that he put up a fight against Lucy, admitting in defeat that he didn’t even stand a chance against her, not even foregoing bribery to get her to throw away his embarrassingly high score card as proof of his loss.

Per tradition in the Peña household, Lucy rightfully earned her extra scoop of ice cream at Eva’s Dairy Barn for her impressive putt putt victory, her and Javi settling in on their favorite bench by the little stream that ran behind the ice cream shop, where their family had spend more than their fair share of time enjoying their favorite treats while stomping and splashing in the creek.

“Victory sure does taste sweet.” Lucy joked, sticking her tongue out at Javi as she bit into her ice cream, Javi rolling his eyes at her even though she had every right to give him shit after his terrible performance.

“Well if you can find a college with a putt putt scholarship, that’s the place to go.” Javi smiled before the pair went quiet, the reality of knowing Lucy would be seriously starting to look at colleges soon weighing heavy in his throat and deep in his chest. “Have you uh, thought anymore about schools you like?” He asked, trying his best to sound nonchalant, rather than the complete and utter terror he really felt.

“I don’t know… a lot of people from school are talking about going to Texas Tech or Texas A&M… I think I like Texas A&M but, I don’t know, it’s just….” Lucy paused, taking a deep breath, anxiously twiddling with her fingers.

“Just what, Lu?”

“It’s almost 6 hours away. I know it’s not really that far but, I don’t know… I’m just really worried that I’ll miss you guys. Don’t tell Elliot and Harper I said that.”

It took everything in Javi not to melt into a weepy, sobbing mess right then and there on that bench, wondering how yesterday, he was bringing Lucy home from the hospital, scared shitless on how in the world he was going to be a father, let alone a half decent one, and now, here Lucy was, nearly an adult who had blossomed into the most wonderful daughter he could have asked for, and was getting ready to leave for college.

Wrapping his arm over Lucy’s shoulder, she let her head fall next to his, sitting for a moment in a thoughtful silence before Javi spoke.

“No matter where you go or what you do, you know that we’ll always be there for you, right? Even when you’re sick of us. You’re an amazing kid, Lu. We’re all so proud of you. I’m so proud of you. We’ll be there for you even if you’re on the other end of the earth if that’s where you wanna go. I love you, kiddo.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

Javi couldn’t help but reach up to wipe the tears welling in his eyes with the back of his hand after a quick kiss on Lucy's forehead, making Lucy laugh as she tried to hide the tears of her own.

“Dad, are you crying?”

“No… A little… I’m just really pissed you beat me at mini golf, okay?” Javi joked, trying to use a little humor before he became a total sap. “Alright, we should probably head home before Elliot and Harper get too suspicious.”

“Not looking forward to the 10 pounds of shit they’re gonna give me when I found out I got called down to the principal's office.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Elliot will happily triple your visits by the time she’s your age. As for Harper, God, I honestly worry she’s gonna be calling the principal down to see her.”

“Is this your subtle way of telling me I’m your favorite child?”

“No, this is my subtle way of thanking you that despite your run in with the pants police today, you’re the one I’m least worried about having to bail out of jail one day. Don’t tell them I said that.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, Dad.”

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@purpleprincess75

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stllmnstr · 6 months ago

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sacred monsters [teaser!]

pairing: lee heeseung x f reader

genre: academic rivals to lovers, vampire au, slow burn

teaser word count: 1.7k

teaser warnings: swearing

release date: saturday, august 3, 10 PM EST

soundtrack: still monster / moonstruck / lucifer - enhypen / everybody wants to rule the world - tears for fears / immortal - marina / supermassive black hole - muse / saturn - sleeping at last / everybody’s watching me (uh oh) - the neighbourhood

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

A literature student in your third year of university, you’ve been dreaming of having your writing published for as long as you can remember. With a perfect opportunity dangling at your fingertips, the only obstacle that stands in your way comes in the form of a ridiculously tall, stupidly handsome, and unfortunately, very talented writer by the name of Lee Heeseung. Unwilling to let your dream slip out of reach, you commit to being better than the aforementioned pain in your ass at absolutely everything.

But when a string of vampire attacks strikes close to your city for the first time in nearly two hundred years, publishing is suddenly the last thing on your mind. And, as you soon begin to discover, Heeseung may not quite be the person you thought he was.

note: this fic is my BABYYY so I really hope it’s well received and you all have a good time with it. it’s probably no surprise that still monster is one of my absolute favorite enha songs, and this story is essentially (my interpretation of) it in written form. this is going to be a multi-part story, and as of right now, the first part is almost ready to share. for now, enjoy this snippet!

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Crossing a dark line through the word you just penned, you sigh.

This is the fastest you’ve put a story together in ages. It’s cohesive, and the writing is solid. Your use of metaphor is strong and concise, and the prose feels true to your identity as a writer.

But something in you withers a bit with every new word you commit to paper. It’s not that you hate your topic. If anything, it’s just that you have no stake in it at all. It doesn't feel innovative or exciting or representative of your creativity.

No matter how easily the words flow out of you, something about it just feels… flat. One dimensional.

You need something new. A different angle or an alternative perspective or… Or a fresh set of eyes.

Struck with a sudden idea, you pull out your phone, plan taking form in your mind. The literature club at your university hosts bimonthly peer review sessions, and you haven’t taken advantage of them nearly as much as you should. They’re a chance for any writer, literature major or otherwise, to come together and workshop any piece of writing of their choice.

Tapping your finger impatiently on the table, you wait for the page to load. The fall semester did end almost a week ago, so it may be a long shot. You’re not sure if the club typically holds sessions over winter break. But as you pull up the club’s calendar of events, a small smile tugs at your lips.

Luck seems to be on your side this time. It’s written there in plain, bold font that there will be a session this upcoming Friday evening. That means that if you attend the session and get some solid ideas for revision, you’ll have exactly five days to refine your draft before you present it to Professor Kim.

The idea of having not only a topic, as the schedule outlined, but an actual complete, well-written draft to show him next Wednesday, turns your small smile into one that overtakes your features.

Energized with a new vigor, you reach for your pen again. It doesn’t have to be perfect, you remind yourself, even as a turn of phrase makes you cringe. Even as a piece of punctuation feels out of place. It just needs to be written. You just need to have as much content as you can to share on Friday.

Besides, you’re sure that a second opinion will help you fine tune this story into something you’re proud to share, something you’re excited to attach your name to.

The afternoon is quick to blur into early evening, and you’re still bent over your favorite corner table. Coffee long drained, you’re full of a new confidence. The thought of proving yourself suddenly doesn’t seem like such an unachievable, out of reach task.

And when you do finally gather up all of your belongings and make your way back to your apartment for the night, you’re sure that this is the exact boost you needed.

That same stroke of self-assuredness carries you all the way through a finished first draft. It’s rough and messy and littered with loose ends, but it’s tucked away in the bottom of your tote bag with a smile as you haul it to classroom number 105 in the university liberal arts building Friday evening.

You pause at the door to the classroom, only for a moment. The inhale you breathe in is deep, full. Nodding to yourself once, you push open the door.

You haven’t been to one of these workshop sessions since the second semester of your first year, back when you had just switched to a literature major. You remember being wide-eyed and incredibly protective over your work. It was hard to part with it, to let anyone else read over the sentences you were so unsure of. The writing you had little confidence in.

But your partner had been kind. Another girl in her first year, she had nothing but gentle feedback to give and reassurance that your writing was worth reading. Honestly, it was such an overwhelmingly positive experience that you would have come back for more sessions if you weren’t constantly struggling to find minutes to spare in the day.

You’re hoping that tonight will be just as rewarding as you enter the classroom, tote bag in tow. But as you survey the space around you, your face falls flat, easy going smile dropping from your lips.

You weren’t expecting a big crowd, considering that it is winter break and most students are deliberately avoiding campus right now, but you were hoping there’d be more than one other person in attendance.

Well, you think, deciding to look on the bright side of things. At least you’re not the only person.

The other attendee is sitting in the far corner of the room, occupying a desk near the front of the classroom. At the sound of your entrance, they turn to face you.

With that, your small disappointment is quick to snowball into an intense wave of exasperation. Because why is the universe so hellbent on playing games with you?

Your mouth drops open without your permission. “Heeseung?”

Your sudden outburst fills the room and lingers long into the awkward silence that follows. You hadn’t meant to say anything, but really, what are the god forsaken odds?

If he’s bothered by your reaction to seeing him, Heeseung doesn’t show it. Instead he looks strangely… relieved. It makes absolutely no sense for him to feel any sort of relief at the sight of you, but it’s hard to put a more apt descriptor to the way tension drains from his shoulders, crease between his brows softening as he looks at you, scans you from head to toe.

A moment of stilted silence passes between the two of you. Another. Your heartbeat feels too loud in your chest.

You exhale, a cross between a scoff and a laugh so humorless it could freeze a flame. Weighing your options, the most tempting by far is to just turn on your heel and exit the way you came.

Heesung seems to read your intention before you can commit to it.

Breaking the heaviness in the atmosphere, he acts as if you’ve greeted him like an old friend, not as the source of all your recent headaches.

“Hi,” he nods, so tentatively you almost want to let your jaw drop open in shock. Almost.

Because what the fuck does he mean by ‘Hi?’ This has to be some kind of mind game, some way to get in your head and ruin this for you.

“Right.” Your lips pull into a tight line. You don’t bother to return his greeting. “I’m just gonna go, then.” Hiking up your bag on your shoulder, you turn to do just that. Your first draft will just have to be unpolished. Oh, well. You’re sure Professor Kim will have better feedback for you than Lee Heeseung ever would anyway.

Once again, Heeseung’s voice cuts across the classroom. “Wait.” There’s a command in his voice. Gentle, but firm. Insistent. So pervasive that you find yourself following without really meaning to.

Mind made up and dead set on leaving, now you’re just annoyed. What a waste of a Friday evening.

“What?” You turn back to him. You’re not sure if there’s more venom in your voice or your eyes.

And Heeseung, who commands a classroom with quiet grace, with his steady, unwavering presence, suddenly looks so damn unsure. As if tormenting you is uncharted territory. As if he’s never once left you in the cold with flaming cheeks and a thoroughly shattered ego.

“I…” he trails off, not quite meeting your furious gaze. “Didn’t you come here to get feedback?”

“Right.” You scoff again. “Because I’m sure you’d love nothing more than to tear my writing to shreds. Forgive me, but I’m not interested in being the butt end of your joke tonight.”

“What?” If you didn’t know any better, the ignorance he feigns would be rather convincing. “That’s not why I’m here.” He shakes his head. “I brought something I want reviewed too.”

Your brow arches. He can’t be serious. “Even if I did stay,” you counter, “you’re actually the last person I would want to read my work. Feel free to be offended by that, by the way.”

For a solid minute, Heeseung just looks at you. He wears that same damn deer-in-the-headlights expression he had after you brushed him off when he intercepted you in class the other day. He pauses, weighing words on his tongue. “Look, ____.” The sound of your name on his lips strikes a strange chord in you. Until now, you were certain he didn’t even know it. “Did I do something to offend—”

And no. Absolutely not. No way are you rehashing that day in the quad with him now.

“You know what,” you interrupt. You need to go. Now. You need an out. “I’m actually, like, super tired. I think I’m just gonna head back, and—”

But then it’s his turn to cut off your train of thought. “It’s your piece for Professor Kim, isn’t it?” Heeseung takes your silence as confirmation. “Publishing is a big deal. A second set of eyes will only make your work stronger. And if you hate my feedback, it’s not like you have to use any of it.”

You hate it. You despise the way his reasoning matches your internal monologue nearly word for word. The way your thoughts align exactly.

You pause, a decision weighing heavy on your mind. He is an excellent writer… There would probably be substance to his feedback. Real, actual, good substance that you could use to make your writing bloom into something truly amazing. He could be the exact spark you need to make your story come to life.

You purse your lips. “What’s in it for you?”

Heesung smiles, a nearly imperceptible quirk of his lips. He knows he’s won. “Like I said, I brought something I’ve been working on.” There’s an intention you can’t quite read behind his gaze when he adds, “I want to know what you think of it.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

With a grumble, you take reluctant steps towards where he sits on the opposite side of the classroom. And if you slide down into the seat next to him with a little more force than necessary, well, it’s just because you’ve had a long week. No other reason. None at all.

“Fine,” you relent, reaching to pull your notebook out of your bag. “You get twenty minutes.”

“That’s not nearly long eno—”

“Thirty,” you concede. “And don’t push it.”

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

TO BE CONTINUED...

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

note: thanks for checking out this little snippet! I can't wait to share the full first part soon. this one is going to be so much fun I'm buzzing already. I don't have a tag list, but I will most likely update this post and reblog it once I have a confirmed release date. like I said in the note at the beginning, I'm anticipating it will be ready to go by this sunday (august 4 EST) at the latest. woo!

#heeseung fanfic #heeseung x reader #heeseung x you #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #heeseung imagines #heeseung fanfiction #enhypen scenarios #heeseung scenarios

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 10 months ago

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Do it for Him | Do You Even Love Me? | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: Voicing the thoughts that had been on your mind for so long leaves you broken and regretting every decision you've ever made. Pairing: Daughter in law reader x Father in Law Jungkook (Yändere) Word Count: 1.1k~ Warnings: An argument and some explicit language (kinda but not really) a/n: This is a hypothetical situation and is NOT what happens in the story. Oc and Jungkook don't end up together and I'll be writing another bonus chapter about how everything ends but this is simply a longer drabble that I just decided to make into a bonus chapter since I think some of you would be interested in reading it 😁 P.s. Requested by an annon 💜 (also written in one sitting so ignore any mistakes lol) Series Masterlist

"How was your day today?" I ask half heartedly, wondering if he'll actually speak to me like a human being today or skip to having sex again like he's done almost every time he's come to visit lately.

"It was fine but I don't want to talk about work since it looks like someone's been missing me huh?" he taunts, taking my want for interaction with him as a sign of an insatiable hunger he wishes I shared.

"I did miss you but I missed being with you, not just sex" I say, pressing on his chest to keep some space between us to show I'm serious and want to talk about this.

He stops and waits for me to continue but his eyes don't leave my body for a second.

"When I told you I loved you I didn't mean for our life to end up like this" I say, referring to the way we've been living for the past year.

"What's wrong? Did you need something else? You have my credit card and I told you before that you didn't have to ask me for anything. If you want it then get it. It's the least I could do for my beautiful Angel" he says while caressing my face but I take a step back, not letting him put me under his spell again.

"I'm not talking about money Jungkook. I'm talking about how I told you I didn't want to live as 'The other woman'. You told me you were going to get a divorce and let the children and I move in with you. Not just have you pop by at this separate house you have us living in" I say.

He turns around and heads to the kitchen, gulping down a glass of water and placing the cup down on the counter. "I told you I would take care of it" he growls out while leaning both hands against the sink, clearly not appreciating the topic of conversation when all he had been looking for was a quick fuck.

"You told me that a year ago and from what I've seen you've been lying to me this whole time. Have you even filed the papers? You know that neither of you love each other so what's the point of keeping this whole charade going?" I say, following after him and standing my ground, not letting him drop this.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to center himself so he won't blow up on me like he has in the past. "These things take time Angel, plus going through a divorce would make my company take a big hit and might ruin some of the relationships I've built" he tries to explain but I'm not having it.

"If your company is all you care about then maybe all of this was a mistake" I say, turning around to walk into my bedroom with him following lazily behind me.

"You know I care about you too Angel" he says, leaning in the doorway while I've decided to plot down on the bed, running my fingers through my hair and trying to figure out if any of this was a good idea.

From the looks of it to any outsider this whole relationship was bound to go up in flames sooner or later. My life wasn't supposed to be like this. Was I really that naïve to think that somehow things would change if we were actually together? Did I really think that he was capable of loving me too?

"No I don't know that. I know that you love my body and that you love having sex with me and the idea of being with me and stealing me away from your son but I don't even know if you actually love me. Y/n. Not Angel, not the mother of your children, not the daughter in law that you took advantage of, just me" I spout off everything that's been on my mind and I can see that he starts to more or less assess our relationship and I really hope I'm going to get the answer I'm hoping for.

"You knew who I was when you first met me. You knew who I was when you married my son and you definitely knew what you were getting yourself into when you left him to be with me. I'm not this loving and kind husband that you want me to be and deep down you know that too. Do I care about you? Yes, I do. Do I love you? I don't know. I don't know if I do and I don't know if I ever will and if that's not good enough for you then be my guest, say the word and we can end this right now" he says and every condescending word that falls from his lips is like a knife through my heart.

I choke back a sob as my eyes glass over leaving him rolling his eyes, clearly not having the patience to deal with this today.

"Seems like you've got some stuff to think about and from the looks of it I've got some business to attend to" he says, hinting at the headache it's going to be for him to go through with this divorce.

He strides over to the bed where I'm sat with my head down, trying and failing to hold back my tears and picks up my chin. "Just remember who you're dealing with Angel okay? It will make all of ours lives so much easier if you stop thinking that you can change me" he says, caressing my face again, driving the knife deeper.

"I am who I am and if you can't accept that then I think we have some hard decisions we'll need to make here" he says a wipes away a few of my tears before tapping underneath my chin twice and walking away.

"Where are you going?" I ask, getting up and following him out, my vision going glossy. "It seems you're not in the mood that I thought you might be in so I think it's best if I go. Give my love to the children" he says over his shoulder and walks out, leaving me speechless and beyond heart broken, mourning the life I had with his son all over again and missing the feeling of loving someone and being loved in return.

"What have I done?" I whimper, sinking to the floor and sobbing, wishing that I could take it all back. That I could start over and never get mixed up with this family no matter how in love I was with his son. I never knew that a love that was once so pure would be traded for one that is so devastatingly one sided, wrecking my life beyond compare and stealing what little pieces of me I had left.

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im-sleepdeprived · 8 months ago

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Seasonal • Pt. 3

pairing: peter parker x reader

summary: inspired by the taylor swift song ‘peter’ where you and peter discover just how hard it is to hold on to something from your past, no mater how much you love each other

a/n: SHITS STARTING TO GET REALLLL (you’ll see) next part is gonna go soooooo hard omg, i already have the beginning of it written (pls don’t hate me after this btw☹️)

warnings: angst, lying, things have to get worse before they can get better, alcohol n stuff

masterlist, read part 1, part 2

Summer break rolled around faster than you could blink and before you knew it, your first year at college was over. Though it was a bit of a long adjustment period, and you were certainly going through some things in your life, it was amazing. You couldn’t wait to come back in the fall as a sophomore. This time, your place on the paper was secure, you’d probably get a good topic for the first edition when you get back (or better than last year's at least), and you actually had friends now.

You and Alyssa had agreed to rent out an apartment for the next school year and you were excited to be living with one of your closest friends. You’d picked out the place together, it was near campus, small, cheap, and perfect for just the two of you. You’d be moving in a week before school started back up.

You were going to be spending the summer back home with your parents, a lot of your friends from Columbia were staying in the city so you’d be able to hang out all through break. You’d checked and (subtly) made sure with Ned that Peter wasn’t planning on coming home during break.

On a phone call a few days after your last day, you and Ned were congratulating each other on getting through the year and he had mentioned something about Peter receiving some award from some science club. You asked him if he was going to be seeing him over the break to which he’d replied with ‘Peter’s stuck down in North Carolina but I was thinking about catching a flight and spending a few weeks with him.’

You hadn’t talked to Peter lately, since last winter actually. You had stopped reaching out first, deciding that if he wanted to talk to you, he would. Apparently, he didn’t want to.

You hadn’t received any texts from him since that night you’d caught him walking the streets with May after he’d told you he couldn’t make it back to New York. It was obvious he’d lied but…you just weren’t sure why.

After all, he’d been the one to reach out that time. He’d been the one to initiate everything, so why would he lie about it? You didn’t know but you were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Because…this was Peter. He literally saved lives in his spare time. It was hard for you to wrap your head around the fact that he would go out of his way just to hurt you.

After wishing Ned a great break you’d called your Mom and confirmed your summer plans with them. She was more than happy and told you you could just pop in unannounced and she wouldn’t mind one bit.

Now you were looking at all your boxes shoved in your childhood room. You’d moved all of your things out of your dorm but you and Alyssa weren’t moving into your apartment until the end of summer so until then, you were stuck here. In this room that felt a little too nostalgic for your liking, feeling like you’d lived a thousand lifetimes since last year.

Something sparkled in your peripheral vision, making you turn your head and— oh. The gift you’d bought for Peter sat perfectly wrapped, much to your dismay, in one of your boxes. The minimal light that filtered through your window had managed to hit it just right, where it was stuck between a few other of your belongings and you wondered what kind of sick sign that was.

Sighing, you made your way over to the box, fished it out, and shoved it into the back of your closet. The little tag where you’d written his name with a small heart beside it stuck out and you pushed it right back in.

Maybe you should just get rid of it. No, you should just get rid of it. It wasn’t as if you were still planning on giving it to him or seeing him at all. And yet…you held on.

“May’s coming over for dinner! Is that…okay?”

Something you were hoping to work on this break was spending time with your old friends. You remembered thinking last year that you’d fight to keep your friendships intact and you hadn’t done the best job with that lately.

May was one of those friends. And since you didn’t have Peter pushing the two of you together like he once did, and you didn’t have the advantage of living across the hall from each other, it’d been a while.

You wished you could say it was just the way things were. That life had gotten in the way and it wasn’t on purpose but…it kinda was.

You weren’t exactly avoiding her but you also weren’t going out of your way to see her again because you knew it would’ve been easy to just pop in on a random afternoon and say hi. Or have dinner together with your parents.

After the breakup, losing Peter hurt, but you’d expected that. What you hadn’t expected was losing May. It was an easy thing to overlook but it hit you like a ton of bricks. The two of you had become really close during your time with Peter, hell she was half the reason you were so excited to see them during winter break, and you were sure your relationship extended beyond him but…you were scared. You were scared of being wrong.

“Of course it’s okay,” you said to your Mom, who stood nervously at your door. You tried to keep your voice light, careful not to let it betray you and indicate the immediate nervousness you felt at her words.

“Are you sure sweetie? I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Mom,” you rolled your eyes, “it’s May. We’ve known her for forever, your best friends. I’m fine. I actually…I really miss her.”

She smiled at you, “She misses you too honey, she’ll be so glad to see you.” You shot her a smile and she returned it with a pair of thumbs up before scurrying off.

You tried not to stress yourself out too much, because it was exactly as you’d told your mom, this was May. She’d known you long before you and Peter were a thing, and you hoped now that you weren’t a thing things could still be okay between the two of you.

It wasn’t long before you heard a knock on your door. “Sweetie, could you get that? Your Dad’s out and I’ve got my hands full,” your Mom yelled from the kitchen.

Your heart fell a little and you mentally scolded yourself for feeling that way. You made your way to the door and opened it with sweaty palms. May stood before you, holding a bottle of wine, and sporting one of those beautiful, mood-changing smiles of hers.

“Y/N!” She barely got out before she was pulling you into one of those warm hugs you’d missed so much. No one could give a hug quite like May Parker.

You felt relief flush through your system, and suddenly, all your worrying from before seemed so silly. Of course she wouldn’t hate you.

You held her tighter, “Hi May.”

“Oh my goodness,” she pulled away and smiled at you, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I know right? It’s just been a lot, with college and…stuff.” She gave you a bittersweet smile. “I get it.” You both knew what she meant and her voice was so genuine you could’ve burst into tears right then.

“Here let me take this,” you grabbed the bottle of wine from her, “come in, take a seat, I’ll pour you a cup.”

You ran into the kitchen, “May’s here,” you informed your mom as you grabbed a wine glass and moved to open the bottle.

“Oh great, did she bring that,” she pointed towards the bottle in your hands. When you nodded she grabbed it from you along with the cup, “Don’t worry about it sweetie, I’ll open this, I need you to take those though.”

She nodded towards a tray of cheese and crackers which you grabbed and made your way back to the living room. Your mom followed with the wine, which she set on the table so she could pull May into a big hug. “I know you live right across the hall but I feel like I barely even see you!”

After they exchanged pleasantries, they started chatting as they ate the appetizers and drank their wine. A few questions were thrown at you, about school, summer plans, and other things. You answered as best you could, but there was something still plaguing your mind.

“I’ll go get dinner on the table, Y/N will keep you company.” Your mom said as she stood up and made her way back to the kitchen.

You had barely registered what she'd said, too busy looking around the living room and recalling the last time May was here. Or at least, here at the same time as you. It was your high school graduation, you and Peter had been shoved into a corner while she and your parents fawned over the both of you. It was hard to believe that was the same day everything changed.

As if reading your mind, she started talking, “I know things are different now.” She got up from her chair, sat beside you on the sofa, and grabbed your hand, “But they don’t have to be. Not for us.”

You squeezed her hand and smiled at her, “Good because I don’t want things to be different between us.”

“Me neither,” she grinned and pulled you into another hug, which you gladly accepted.

“Y’know,” you mumbled into her hair, “I was kinda scared you hated me now.”

She laughed as if you’d just told the world’s funniest joke. Pulling away, she smirked at you and said, “For someone smart enough to get into Columbia, you're kinda stupid.”

You laughed loudly, “Okay, fair.”

Suddenly, your mom called out, stating that dinner was all set up and ready. “Come on,” May stood up and held her hand out for you, “we can talk more about this later, I’m starving.”

Grinning, you accepted her hand and stood up, “Good, because we made your favorite.”

She gasped, hands flying to her mouth, “The tacos?! With the sauce?”

Laughing, you nodded, “Yup, just for you.”

“Oh my god,” she squeezed your arm, “If I did hate you, which I absolutely don’t, this would be your redemption moment!”

“Come on,” you dragged her to the table. Dinner went well, it was amazing to spend time with May again and your heart ached when you realized how long you’d spent away from her. You’d have to fix that, maybe she’d be open to going out for brunch together on weekends.

Some time into the conversation, Peter was brought up. May had said something or other about one of his classes and your mom asked how he was doing down at Duke. As soon as the question had left her mouth, both pairs of eyes were bearing down on you.

You smiled softly and rolled your eyes, “You guys, don’t make it weird, because it isn’t.”

They didn’t say anything which made you hold up your hands, “Do you want me to leave? Cause I’m fine with talking about him, but if you aren’t-”

“No, of course not!” May rushed out.

“We just don’t want to make it weird!” Your mom tried.

“But it isn’t! Weird, like you said. It isn’t weird.” May stumbled, and it made your heart clench when you realized how similar it was to Peter when he was doing that nervous rambling thing of his you used to love so much. Maybe it was weird. But you didn’t want it to be.

“It isn’t,” you smiled again. If you wanted a relationship with May, of course, there’d be talk about Peter. The sooner you get over it, the better.

“Okay…good.” Everyone was quiet for a moment, so you decided to speak up for both of them. “So May, how was Peter’s first year at Duke?”

“Good, good.” She nodded. “He started his break around the same time you did, but he’s in some science program? I’m not sure, he’s told me all about it but you know that boy, he talks like a scientist already, I barely understand anything. Sometimes it’s like a whole other language.” She and your mom laughed and you let out a small chuckle as well. “But anyway,” she continued, “he’s staying there until next semester starts. They do special research and stuff over the summer,” she waved her hand dismissively, “Or something like that, but you get the idea. And he loves it.” She smiled proudly.

You were happy for him, you really were. Sometimes it was the only thing that gave you peace about him being so far away, the fact that you knew Duke was perfect for him. It had everything he could ever want, the perfect environment for him to thrive in, and from what you’d heard from Ned (and now May) that was exactly what he was doing.

But no matter how much you knew you should be proud and happy for him, and only proud and happy, you couldn’t help the twinge of bitterness that wormed its way around your ribs and squeezed tightly every time you heard just how great he was doing at his new place. So great, that he’d left for there early. So great, that he wasn’t even coming home for summer break now.

It wasn’t fair, not in the slightest bit, but no matter how much you tried to brush it off because you knew how ridiculous you would sound to anyone else, it was there every time he was brought up in a conversation.

That was another thing. everyone seemed to know everything about him at all times and it felt like a slap to the face every time someone brought up something that, if it were to have happened last year, you would’ve been the first to know.

You’d lied before, things were weird. They were weird and you hated it so much you were willing to ignore it so you didn’t have to acknowledge it. You were hoping the weirdness would just grow a pair of legs and walk away because you weren’t quite sure how to face it. Your lives were so intertwined that no matter how much you ignored it, ignored him, it was bound to be brought up again and you’d be stuck with that same gross, sticky, squeezing, feeling.

Your mother and May had switched topics, apparently, they hadn’t noticed you drifting off into your head and you were glad for it. Soon, dinner was over and you and May were doing the dishes and talking about your current TV shows, while your mom cleaned around and got dessert ready.

“I’ve been on a Modern Family kick lately,” she told you as you rinsed a plate and handed it to her to dry.

“Classic,” you stated, washing another pate, “the Thanksgiving episode is my favorite, you know, with the suitcase turkey and the backpack turkey.”

“Oh my god,” she laughed, “I love that one.”

“Actually, I really miss New Girl, I’ve been wanting to rewatch that one.”

“Remember when we used to quote Schmidt all the time?” She laughed and leaned against the countertop. “You and Peter would run around yelling ‘Youths!’?”

“Oh yeah,” you grinned, “and when I used to say ‘Are you the criminals? From the statistics?’ Every time he talked about catching someone on patrol.”

“Yes! I know he’d act annoyed, but he definitely found it hilarious.”

“Oh for sure,” you nodded.

May let out a sigh and turned her body completely towards you. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s a total dumbass.”

You shook your head as you said in a gentle voice, “Weren’t we just saying over dinner how smart that boy is?”

“That’s not what I meant,” she looked at you knowingly. “Peter is smart, but sometimes I wonder if that kid has a brain at all.” You huffed out a laugh but she grabbed both your soapy hands before she continued, “I mean it Y/N, I’ve never seen him care about anyone the way he cared for you. And he’s an idiot if he thinks a couple hundred miles are going to change things between you both.”

You refrained from saying he was the one who changed things while he was still across the hall from you. You knew she was only trying to help but you really thought this was making you feel worse about it. “It’s okay,” you said in as calm a voice as you could muster, “It was what he wanted, and from what I’ve heard he’s doing amazing over there, I’m happy for him.”

She looked as if she wanted to protest your little facade and you really hoped she wouldn’t push. You didn’t think you could get through this without tears. Suddenly, as soon as she opened her mouth, your phone started ringing. You looked over the counter to see it was Alyssa calling.

“I’m really sorry May but this is my friend I’m moving in with next semester, she probably wants to finalize some things,” you grabbed your phone and gave her an apologetic smile.

“No worries honey, go ahead.” She smiled at you and you thanked her before running to your room to answer.

Turned out Lyss just wanted to check in on you, claiming she missed you and you told her how unintentionally perfect her timing was. She laughed and said she was always happy to help. The two of you talked for a few minutes before she had to go again and when you stepped out to see May, she was getting ready to leave.

“So soon,” you asked with a frown.

May nodded and gave you a small smile. “Yeah, I‘ve got to be up early, we have an order coming in at the community center and I’m supposed to sign off on it.”

“Oh, well,” you cleared your throat, “it was really nice to see you May, like, really nice.”

“C’mere honey,” she held out her arms and pulled you into a hug.

“Thank you,” you murmured, though you weren’t quite sure what you were thanking her for. For not hating you, for being so understanding about avoiding her, for what she’d been saying earlier even if it had sorta broken your heart.

“You don’t need to thank me, but I would really like to see you more often,” she squeezed you more time before letting go.

“Definitely,” you agreed.

“We’ll set something up then,” she grinned and said one last goodbye before making her way across the hall.

You put on a cute outfit, feeling extra excited about today. You and MJ had finally made plans to get together. You reallyneeded this, you hadn’t spent proper time together in a criminally long time and you were hoping to make up for that.

She’d been away visiting her girlfriend’s family for the summer and now there were only a couple days before you were supposed to be moving in with Alyssa. You’d made her send you her travel itinerary so could out your day together, from start to finish.

The two of you were going to hit all your favorite spots. First, you were going to grab coffee at your favorite spot, after that you were going to hit some bookstores, some were your old favorites you used to visit together in high school and some were new ones you’d sent to each other in hopes of trying out together. Then you were planning on hitting The Met and finding the funniest pieces there.

“Hey,” you said as you picked up your phone when you heard it ring.

“Hey loser, I’m downstairs,” MJ’s voice rang through your speakers making you squeal with excitement.

“I’m on my way down! Just one second I need to find my shoes,” you shoved around your closet, frustration growing by the second at the minuscule task keeping you from seeing your friend.

“Calm down Y/N,” she laughed, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You better not,” you grumbled. “It’s been way too long. Oh my GOD! I just had these dumb shoes—” you paused, “Wait never mind, I found them. I placed them by my door.”

MJ cackled on the other end, “Good, now put those bitches on, and get your ass down here Y/L/N, I miss my best friend.”

You felt giddy at her words, “Ok, ok I’ll be right there.”

“I’ll be waiting.” She hung up and you raced to shove on your shoes so you could get down there as quickly as possible. Once your shoes were on you were bounding out the door, down the stars, and out another door before you could pull her into the biggest hug.

“I missed you so much,” you mumbled against her shoulder.

“I missed you more,” she admitted.

“Come on,” you grinned at her, “we’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

“And I can’t say anything 'cause it’s just not my place, y’know?”

“No, I totally understand,” you nodded even though she couldn’t see you. MJ was currently on the other side of the shelf you were browsing and she was telling you about Laura’s family (you’d called them her in-laws and she’d threatened to punch you). Apparently, Laura had a little sister who MJ had found to be extremely obnoxious and arrogant.

You were currently on your third bookstore and the cup of iced coffee in your hand was now more of a cup of melted ice which was making your hand numb. You looked around and spotted a trash can in the corner of the store. As you were making your way over there, MJ continued her little rant, “Don’t even get me started on the way she talks to Laura, it’s just so fucking disrespectful. Honestly, I wanna smack some sense into the little brat.” She said the last part a little quieter but you still heard her.

Dumping your coffee into the trash bin, you walked over to the side of the shelf she was occupying, leaned against it, and frowned. “I’m sure she was a pain in the ass MJ, but really? That bad?”

She stared you down.

“Alright,” you held up both your hands, “that bad.” She merely nodded as she kept browsing. You both held bags in your hands filled with your previous finds, MJ’s slightly bigger than yours.

“Oh and I didn’t even tell you about the time that she—”

“Can I help you ladies with anything.” You jumped at the voice behind you. You turned around to see a kid about your age and judging by the name tag and the outfit, you were pretty sure he worked here.

“Um,” you snuck a peek at MJ who had gone stone-faced, not planning on acknowledging him at all, then turned back to the man before you. He looked to be about your age, with rusty blonde hair and light blue eyes. Despite addressing the both of you, he was looking at you expectantly.

“No, we’re fine thank you,” you gave him a close-lipped smile, to which he returned with a full grin. “Alright, well if you change your minds I’ll be right over there.”

You waved at him and he shot you a wink as he walked off. when you turned to continue your conversation MJ was smirking at you.

“What?” You asked her confused.

She just shook her head and smirked, “Nothing,” she grabbed your arm and tugged you beside her, “Come on, I’m just getting this,” she held up her book. “Did you like anything?”

You shook your head, “Eh, I have most of these.”

“Alright, well I’m gonna go check out, wait for me?”

“Of course,” you offered to hold her other bag while she went to pay for her new book and you stood to the side scrolling on your phone while you waited for her.

“Hey,” you looked up to see the guy from earlier.

“Hi,” you weren’t sure what he wanted, you weren’t even browsing anymore.

“I didn’t catch your name earlier.”

“Y/N, and you?” You asked politely as if you couldn’t read it on the right side of his chest.

“Isaac” he grinned and held out a hand for you to shake. You accepted and smiled, “Nice to meet you, Isaac.”

“It was really nice to meet you, Y/N. Hopefully, we can meet again,” he held out a slip of paper

“Oh,” you spoke dumbfounded. He shot you a wink and stalked away while you stared at the paper as if it could speak.

“Are you seeing something I’m not?” MJ asked. You hadn’t even realized she was done checking out, too busy staring at the little slip of paper in your hands.

“He gave you his number Y/N, stop acting so surprised.” She rolled her eyes but you just furrowed your brows.

“Come on,” she led you to the front of the store and held the door open for you as you walked out. “Aren’t you gonna ask me what I think?” She said once the two of you were on the sidewalk.

“Oh…yeah, of course.” You weren’t planning on bringing it up again at all, actually.

“I think you should call him.”

“Wait…what?” You stopped your walking, not bothering to hide the confusion in your tone or your expression.

“You heard me,” she stopped as well, staring you down. “Why wouldn’t you go out with him? He looks good enough, he’s clearly into you, and he works at a bookstore. All good things.”

You stared at her for a moment. Everything she was saying was valid but all you could think about was—

“Don’t think about him right now, you broke up over a year ago.”

Ouch.

“I’m not thinking about him,” you lied, “I’m sure he’s out living his own life.”

“He is,” she said seriously.

Wait, what?

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I was on the phone with him a couple of weeks ago and he was going crazy trying to decide what to wear. And there was a girl knocking on his door, telling him they were expected at some restaurant and they couldn’t be late.”

“Well…how do you know it was a date?” You tried to reason before you lost your mind.

She rolled her eyes, but then her expression softened, “He was getting dressed up Y/N, like, date dressed up. And I looked up the restaurant after I heard the name, definitely not a casual place. He’s dating again, probably has been for a while.”

No. Oh no.

Your head was spinning. There was no way this could be true. Right?!

MJ went on about how it wasn’t right you were waiting around while he was doing whatever he pleased and how she didn’t like to see you so mopey but you could barely comprehend what she was saying.

You felt all those gross feelings from all the other times Peter’s wonderful life at Duke was mentioned, wrapped around your ribs, your chest, and squeeze, except this time it didn’t fade.

The bitterness, the jealousy, the feeling of being pushed aside, all of them so big, so huge, you could barely keep track of your thoughts. But there was one particular thought sticking out, how you’d never imagined Peter Parker, your first love, the only boy you’d ever loved, would ever make you feel this way.

“I’m really sorry Y/N,” MJ said genuinely. “I just thought you deserved to know. I know you have this fantasy that the two of you might end up together again but…I don’t think he feels the same.”

“Don’t be sorry,” your mouth felt dry. “We broke up, he’s free to do whatever he pleases.”

“Maybe,” she sighed, “but he’s such a dick Y/N, please don’t let it bother you. He’s not worth it.”

That’s where you thought she was wrong, he was worth it. He was worth everything to you and the thought of him with someone else was making you feel sick. You couldn’t do this here, in the middle of the street, in front of MJ. As much as you loved her, you didn’t think she’d really understand. Plus, it was true, you had been waiting for your day together all summer, and you weren’t going to let this ruin it.

“Forget about him, I’m not gonna let him ruin our day. He’s not here, he doesn’t matter.” You could wait until you got home to freak out.

MJ seemed to love your response. She nodded, “He’s not here, he doesn’t matter.”

If only it were that easy.

You couldn’t seem to get your mind off of Peter all day. It was like the breakup all over again except, this time, it was worse. At least during the breakup, you’d held on to the fact that he did want to be with you, and he would if he could, it was your lives just taking different courses at the moment and you’d find each other afterward. But apparently not.

You’d done a good enough job at keeping up a cheery disposition for MJ, not wanting to ruin your day together just because the guy who’d broken up with you over a year ago was dating again. Even if you had felt your heart shatter at her words.

The two of you had gone to The Met and grabbed some dinner afterward before going your separate ways. By the time you were walking back to your apartment, the sun had already started its descent. You paused for a moment, lowering one of your newly purchased books you were skimming through as you stared at the ever-darkening sky. You wondered if there would ever come a time when you would see the stars and not think of him. Hell, you couldn’t even see the stars right now and you still thought of him.

Your mind wandered to when he’d taught you about seasonal constellations and you started to wonder if that’s what you were, you and Peter. Something temporary, a fleeting moment in time. Sure, he’d told you that the stars were always in the sky, and it was only a matter of light and location that determined whether or not they shone. But as you stared at the sky, you wondered how that was even possible. How it could look so clear, so empty, and yet, you knew they were there.

The stars might always be there, but you weren’t guaranteed you’d see them. Just like the way Peter’s effect on your life would always be present, there was no denying you wouldn’t be the person you are right now, hell you might not have even been going to the school you went to if it weren’t for him. But that didn’t mean the two of you were guaranteed a future.

Maybe the two of you would never get the right light or location to shine again. Maybe you were more of a Halley’s Comet, a once-in-a-lifetime thing.

And maybe you were a fool for holding out hope this long.

You tried to ration it out with yourself. When he’d said that thing about ‘growing and earning perspective’ you’d always thought of it in an academic/life sort of way. As in, you’d establish yourselves in your fields, you’d take opportunities, focus on your studies, and learn as much as you could, about school and about yourselves.

But maybe…maybe Peter had meant something else, something more..intimate. Your stomach churned at the thought. Had he really just broken things off with you so he could go to college and fuck around freely? You supposed it was better than him fucking around while you were together but still, you didn’t feel any better.

You knew you were probably being too dramatic about it, after all, you weren’t together. End of story. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of him with other girls, you weren’t expecting him to shun all romantic endeavors for you but…you weren’t expecting it to happen so fast.

MJ had been the one to tell. For her to already have known, it must’ve been serious. You knew Peter cared what she thought (she was always sort of the critic of the group, you all valued her opinion) so he wouldn’t have told her or let her believe it if it was just a simple thing. The thought hit you like a knife to the gut. Peter was moving on.

Why shouldn’t you?

You slept in the next morning, trying to enjoy your days before school started up again, and maybe because you were still mopey about Peter. You didn’t want to be, but you couldn’t help it.

It wasn’t until you got a phone call from Alyssa that you actually sat up straight. “Hey Lyss, what’s up?”

“Hi Y/N! Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“Me too,” you smiled. She always had a way of cheering you up, finding out about Peter right before you moved in with Lyss was probably a blessing. “Not gonna lie though, I’m staring at the boxes in my room and I’m already tired thinking about moving them all tomorrow,” you laughed.

“Oh my god same! But I’m not worried too much about it anymore, James and some of his friends offered to help us.”

“Oh, really?” You hadn’t heard about that. “That’s really sweet of them.”

“I know right? Well, technically James offered for them to help, as soon as he heard. But he said he talked to them afterward and they were okay with it.”

“That’s cool,” you’d have to make sure to thank James when you saw him again.

The two of you talked about when you’d be ready tomorrow and when you’d have time to go grocery shopping to buy the basics. You’d spend tomorrow afternoon moving your things in and you'd probably barely be done by nightfall.

You had set an alarm to wake you up early and you’d be packing your things into your parent's car, which you were borrowing. And you were going to try your very best to not think of Peter Parker.

Moving was a pain.

You were exhausted. Your back hurt, your arms were sore, and you resented yourself for being a bookworm now more than ever. Books were heavy.

Now you, Alyssa, and James were lounging on the floor of the living room having drinks in your first official apartment. To say you were excited was an understatement.

“I can’t believe we’re finally done,” Alyssa groaned as she threw her head back. James’ friends had left after you’d finished with the major things that needed to be brought up and you were eternally grateful they were there to help at all. You weren’t sure how you and Lyss would’ve handled chairs and couches by yourself.

“I can't believe we have our own place,” you grinned. James grinned right back and held up a hand for you to high-five, which you gladly accepted.

“Yeah, nice going you two,” he looked around and nodded, “this is a pretty good place. And what makes it even better, I’m just a couple of blocks from here.”

“Does that mean we’re going to be seeing more of you?” Lyss wrinkled her nose in feigned disgust and James flipped her off, making you laugh.

“Hey, you’re supposed to be thanking me right now,” James narrowed his eyes at her and she scoffed.

“I have thanked you dumbass, multiple times. And so has she,” she jutted her thumb at you.

“One more time wouldn’t hurt.”

“Seriously James?” He didn’t budge. She rolled her eyes before reluctantly saying, “Thank you so very much, we appreciate your help.”

James grinned widely, “Anything for a couple of pretty ladies,” he winked at you. “And I’d never miss a chance to get in a favor with the editor-in-chief.”

“Right,” you said, “you're in charge of assigning the articles when we get back, right Lyss?”

She nodded but she and James exchanged a look that gave you the feeling there was something you weren’t privy to, like there was something else he wanted from her.

“So Y/N,” he turned to you suddenly, ignoring Lyss’s prying eyes shooting at him, “excited to be back on the paper? Hopefully, you’ll get something better than some lousy bathroom renovations this time.”

You nodded, “‘Course I’m excited. And I don’t mind what I get, I’m alright with writing whatever, I’m just glad to be a part of the paper in general.” It wasn’t an easy task, getting on the writing team, but you’d done it and you’d always be grateful.

“Oh don’t be humble,” he rolled his eyes playfully, making you laugh, “I’m sure Lyss will give you something reallyjuicy.” There it was, another look exchanged between the two of them.

Alyssa turned towards you and smiled “Do you know that annual photography competition?”

“Oh yeah, that’s a big thing isn’t it?” It was major, from what you’d heard.

“Yeah, it is, and so is the article that needs to be written.” You tried to hide your grin but she didn’t bother hiding hers. “I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you this, but what the hell,” she shrugged carelessly, “it was rescheduled. So instead of it being held at the start of the fall semester like it usually is, it’ll be held a few weeks after we all come back for the spring semester. And you’re getting the article.”

That got you to sit up. “Are you serious,” you gripped her shoulders and shook her slightly. “Lyss, that’s amazing! Holy fuck,” you laughed breathlessly.

“I’m sorry about the wait, I didn’t know about the postponement until after I’d chosen you,” she shot you an apologetic look.

You shook your head quickly, “Are you kidding? This is amazing!”

“Congrats Y/N,” James grinned at you and pointed his bottle at you before bringing it up to his lips.

Before you could thank him, Alyssa spoke up, “He knew about it. Actually, he advocated for you to have it.”

Your jaw dropped as you stared at the two of them, “Are you serious?” You repeated.

James glared at her before returning his gaze to you and chuckling slightly, “Well she definitely wasn’t supposed to tell you that, but yes I did. You’re a great writer Y/N, you deserve it.”

“Thank you, James,” you said sincerely, “that—that means a lot. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He shot you a smile that felt different than any you’d ever seen on him, it was genuine. It wasn’t a cocky smirk or a cunning grin, it was a real smile and it warmed your heart.

“It’s not until next semester of course,” Alyssa’s voice cut in, catching your attention again, “and you’ll be getting stuff now, when we go back, duh. But I just wanted you to know,” she smiled at you.

You leaned over and pulled her into a hug, “Thank you.” You shot a look at James, “and thank you too. Thank you both,” you pulled away.

You don’t need to thank us Y/N, you’ve earned it,” James said genuinely. You shot him a soft smile and stood up. “I’m going to use the bathroom and when I get back, we’re toasting to this.”

“I’ll open you a bottle,” James promised and you thanked him before walking down the hall and opening the door to the bathroom. You were buzzing, this was an amazing opportunity, so many people were involved in that photography competition, and so many people read that article. It was always on the front page!

You couldn’t fight your smile as you left the restroom and you were so ready to thank them again for—

“Get a favor in with me my ass,” Alyssa hissed and you stopped in the hallway to listen to them. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop but you could’ve sworn you’d heard your name a couple of seconds ago. “We both know why you reallywanted to help with the move.”

“You need to butt out Lyss,” James whispered back.

“Butt out? What do you mean butt out, you were just asking me to be your wing woman!”

“That was before you ratted me out for suggesting her for the photography article.”

“Oh please,” you heard her scoff and you could practically hear her rolling her eyes, “if anything, that totally worked in your favor.”

James grumbled something you couldn’t make out and you were about to step out when you heard Lyss speak up again, this time in a more gentle voice, “Look, you really like her, I think you should do something about it.”

You froze in your spot. “I thought you were the one who told me to take it slow, or back off completely.” James shot back.

“I know, but last year she was going through something. Now, I think you have an actual shot.”

Your mind flew back to MJ and what she’d said a couple of days ago outside that bookstore where the guy had given you his number. Everything about Peter and you moving on…

What if this was your shot?

You turned the corner, stepping out of the hall as if nothing had happened. “Got my bottle for me,” you smiled at James.

“All ready,” he held it up for you and grinned. You grabbed it and fell back into your spot on the floor, a little closer to James this time.

“Y/N we were just talking about—” Alyssa had started but her phone started ringing. She looked down and murmured a little curse. “Sorry guys, I have to take this, it’s my mom and she gets so pissed if I don’t answer her.” She grabbed her phone and stood up. You could’ve sworn you saw her glare a bit in James’ direction.

This was your chance.

Alyssa stepped away and you heard her voice fade as she moved further into the apartment. James leaned back, lifting his arms over his head, and stretched. You watched as his shirt lifted slightly and you looked down, feeling your face flush.

He took a swig of his drink and when you realized he probably wasn’t going to start any conversation, you cleared his throat to catch his attention. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

He smirked, “Why’re you asking?”

“Well…you flirt a lot and I guess I was just wondering if that was your personality or—”

“Or if I’m into you?” He finished and you nodded. “And what if I was into you?”

“Then I’d ask if you wanted to go out sometime.” You sucked in a breath. You’d never done this before, asking someone out. It was nerve-wracking.

“Are you asking me out on a date Y/L/N?” He smirked at you and you rolled your eyes, not appreciating the blush flaming on your cheeks.

“Depends…would you say yes?”

His smirk turned into a grin, “Yes. I would.”

“Cool,” you nodded, taking a sip from the bottle in your hands and looking away from him. You weren’t quite sure what to do now.

He laughed before leaning closer to you, “You have my number saved, right?” You nodded. “Good. I’ll text you the details.”

“Okay,” you said in a low voice. There was no need to speak up, he was right in front of you, and you found yourself stricken, not for the first time, by how beautiful his eyes were. Like vibrant lily pads floating across a pond on a warm spring day.

“Okay,” he repeated, matching your tone. The two of you stayed like that, staring at each other, neither of you speaking. You hadn’t even realized how close your faces had gotten until Alyssa stepped back out.

“Sorry about that, she just wanted to know how the move went.” You jumped back and James straightened back up. She eyes the two of you suspiciously before taking a seat.

“Did you tell her it went well?” He asked her.

She nodded and her gaze flickered between you and James. “Anything I missed?” She asked lightly.

You and James stared at each other for a moment, your mouth falling open yet you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. Thankfully, James was quicker, “Not really, Y/N was just telling me how excited she was for the article.”

“Yup,” you nodded quickly, “sooooo excited.”

“Okay,” Alyssa grinned wide as if she could see right through your bullshit, “alright.”

James stood up and groaned as he stretched out his arms and legs. You felt a pang of guilt run through when you realized that after everything he’d done, he sat on the floor. That couldn’t have been comfortable.

“Well, I’m gonna head out,” he said, grabbing his jacket from the coat hanger by the door and swinging it on. “Thanks for the company, and you’re welcome for the help."

“Bye,” Alyssa sang out.

“Bye,” you waved at him and smiled, “thanks again for everything.”

He grinned, “Bye girls,” he said, but his gaze was on you. He grabbed his bottle and opened the door to leave.

As soon as the click of the closing door sounded, Alyssa was turning toward you with a huge grin on her face. “I give it a few weeks and you’re exclusive.”

Of course she knew.

“I’ve got Professor Bell this semester.”

“Oh I know him,” you said. “He’s the one who’s never got a completed syllabus, right?”

James rolled his eyes. “Yes. The dude’s not that bad honestly, but he can't teach for shit. He’s absent for half the class, it’s like he forgets he’s a professor or something. And he’s always disheveled like he just got laid in his car.”

You laughed out loud. You and James went out after that night when he’d helped you and Alyssa move into your apartment. He’d planned a date and picked you up and the two of you really hit it off. He was different than you in a lot of ways and you supposed that’s part of the reason the two of you worked. Alyssa had been right, it wasn’t long before the two of you were exclusive.

He’d gone home to visit his family in Long Island for the first week of winter break and he’d invited you to go along, but you’d declined, claiming you had to spend the holidays with your family. He’d understood and was back in the city shortly after. He’d surprised you by showing up to your parents’ apartment unannounced and he’d brought flowers and gifts. After that, you thought you kinda had to meet his parents, so you took a short trip with him shortly before break ended. You’d had a good time and they were sweet people

It was spring now and Columbia seemed to bloom just as much as the flowers planted around its campus. It was gorgeous really, the trees were a vibrant green after looking so dull in the winter, the grass was luscious and perfectly cut, and the students were glowing after their long break. You were only a couple of days into the new semester but you were already feeling better than you were at the start of the year.

“The photography competition is coming up,” James stated as you passed a lamppost that had a flyer taped on it as you walked together to the newsroom, his arm draped around your waist.

“I know,” you grinned, “Lyss sent me links to the past few articles online, dating back at least 8 years. I’ve been reading up on it so much I think I know everything there is about the thing, and photography in general.”

James smirked, “Well look at you. I knew you were the perfect girl for the job. Are you taking a date to this thing?”

You grinned, “Are you offering?” It was pretty fancy, held at a venue close to the school, the winner received a cash prize and an internship with whichever newspaper or magazine was sponsoring it that year.

“Offering to go to this upscale party thing with the prettiest girl on campus? I’d be honored.”

“Great. Dress up, this thing has a dress code.”

“Will do. Can’t wait to look at some lame photo with you all night.” He leaned down to kiss you.

You laughed as you tried to kiss him back, “It’s actually really cool! These kids are super talented and they come up with wonderful ideas. One year, a kid submitted a photo of a broken camera, but the screen was still on, and on it was a picture of his childhood home. Photography is a chance to see the world through someone else’s eyes for a change, and it’s amazing what you could learn about someone if you just pay a little bit of attention to their photo.”

He chuckled, “It’s cute how much you care about this.”

You frowned. “Yeah, well it’s really interesting,” you shook your head, “you’ll see what I’m talking about when we go.”

He clicked his tongue, “They’re just pictures babe, what’s the big deal? I could take one right now.” He held up his phone with his free hand.

It wasn’t right, you knew that, but you couldn’t help the little whisper in your brain that said Peter wouldn’t act like this. Peter loved photography, you wouldn’t even need to explain to him how special it was, he already knew.

Seeing the flyers all around campus had been a little off-putting at first. Sure you were excited to get the front page topic, but all you could remember was last year, when you’d seen the flyers and took that as a sign to reach out again.

Not that it had gotten you anywhere.

You tried to shove the memory away. It wouldn’t do you any good dwelling on him right now, you had James in your life now, and you were happy. Or trying to be. You reminded yourself of the words you had told MJ that day at the end of summer.

He’s not here, he doesn’t matter.

And as if the universe were playing the biggest joke on you, as if all the stars in the sky had gathered around to play one big, cosmic, prank on you, you heard the very last voice you ever expected to hear. Ever.

“Ace, is that you?”

read part 4 here

'seasonal’ taglist: @keira-kaz2y5 @imafangirlofeverything

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mythserene · 1 year ago

Text

A BEATLE DIDN’T SAY THAT! Lewisohn’s lab-created quotes

“One of the things about this book that is a strength is it’s not me saying anything, it’s them or other people. I shape the text, I plot where it goes, I weave it, but the quotes are theirs. And so when I’ve got Paul McCartney behaving in a way some readers might think, ‘Whatever, oh dear,’ it’s actually him saying it. So you end up thinking that to his own credit he said that. It’s not me saying it.” (Mark Lewisohn, ‘Noted,’ (October 7, 2013) Somerset, Guy.)

This is hella long, and that's because it's actually a full blog post. (In case you want it in a less monstrous form.)

A lot of people for a long time have put a lot of trust in Mark Lewisohn’s footnotes. Or at least in the fact of those footnotes. Because once you dig through them for any length of time you quickly discover that Mark Lewisohn’s footnotes hold secrets that would get him expelled from any undergraduate program. They reveal a “history” often contrived through a mass of Frankenquotes, ala carte creations, Lewisohn rephrased ‘paraphrases,’ and worse. For some parts of the narrative things aren’t too bad, yet in others monsters lurk around every corner. But this is not the sort of thing that’s graded on a curve, and it is past time to have a conversation about what standards should be accepted in Beatles’ scholarship.

Lewisohn lists his sources unlike most others. And his footnotes alone are more insightful than some other writers’ books. (Reddit, r/beatles)

I do not judge footnotes based on their insightfulness, nor do I want to single out a redditor, but I grabbed the comment because it’s an opinion that is widely shared and even accepted as canon. At least by people who have not combed those freakish footnotes. And while the pages of piled up sources do look fearsome en masse, a closer inspection reveals an offense to the truth, a threat to the record, and a blight on Beatles’ historiography.

“The rules for writing history are obvious. Who does not perceive that its chief law is never to dare say anything false, and never dare withhold anything true? The slightest suspicion of hatred or favor must be avoided. That such should be the foundations is known to all; the materials with which the building will be raised consist of facts and words.” –Cicero

A Look at Lewisohn’s Lab-created Frankenquotes

FIRST, WHAT ARE QUOTES? AND WHY ARE QUOTES?

Quotes are the soul and center of recorded—and recording— history.

And the rules around quotes and quotation marks are pretty simple. Most people, even if they’ve never written anything beyond a term paper, understand what quotation marks represent.

A set of quotation marks means, “This person said or wrote ‘these exact words’ at some given time.” You can smash a quote from two hours before or two years before right up against a separate quote to make your point—although it might get your grade lowered—but what you cannot do is take two different statements from two different times and make them seem like they are one statement.

When you put words inside one set of quotation marks you are stating, in black and white, that the identified person made this statement. That they said all those words together—or if you want to excise a reasonable part and use ellipses to represent that— as part of the same statement.

Look, combining two separate quotes that are not part of the same thought or topic is not a subjective issue. It is not an issue of controversy. Quotes are the bone marrow of written history. Quotes are the alpha and omega. In academic work or journalism they have to be, which makes sense as soon as you think about it. If it was cool for me to take a transcript and grab half a sentence from page 2 and half a sentence from page 17, push them together as if those words were spoken one after the other in a single thought, I bet I can manage to get those words to say almost anything I want.

Separate thoughts must be in two separate quotation marks. Separate. Somewhere between four sentences and a paragraph is widely accepted as the “two separate quotes” line, and there can be some ethical and technical wiggle room in a long rant by a person, but what makes all that subjective nonsense go out the window is if the quotes come from two separate questions. Or two separate days. That’s two quotes. Not hard.

Which again, makes sense if the point is conveying information to the reader and lessening the chance of a writer manipulating someone else’s words to express something that the person didn’t mean.

This is the contract inherent in a quote. These are the rules we all agree to and understand, and these are the reasons why. And there’s no reason to break them.

Why do you want me to believe that John said these two things at one time? What was wrong with what he did say?

THE FOUR MOST COMMON WAYS MARK LEWISOHN MAULS THE MEANING OF THE QUOTE:

The Basic Lewisohn Frankenquote 🧟‍♂️

(“CONCLUDING FIVE WORDS FROM—” – I cannot even see the point of this THREE PART monster. Full footnote reads: 9) Author interview with Tony Meehan, September 6, 1995. (“I met George again in 1968 and for some reason he was harboring a grudge against me. He was very, very uptight about it—’You blocked us getting a recording contract …’ ”) First part of George quote from interview by Terry David Mulligan, The Great Canadian Gold Rush, CBC radio, May 30 and June 6, 1977; concluding five words from interview for The Beatles Anthology)

This three-headed monster attributed to George Harrison is a very dull little guy. Not particularly venomous. Just convenient, I guess. For whatever reason, Mark Lewisohn decided it was worth rummaging through the quote buffet until he collected enough pieces for George Harrison to say this thing. “…concluding five words from…” What are we even doing here? No, really. Please tell me.

And like a lot of the footnotes for these bespoke quotations, there are further problems. “[F]rom interview for Beatles Anthology”? An interview that aired? In one of the episodes? Can you narrow it down? I guess I’ll just have to listen very closely to them all and hope I don’t miss the five words.

But if we got bogged down in the sorts of trivial details that would immediately lose a college student a letter grade off a History 101 paper we would never get anywhere. We have to stick to the violent felonies.

*Love the "George would say——" Uh, would he? Well, I guess after all that trouble you went to, he would now. It's really incredible how cavalier Lewisohn is about a Beatle's words.

These sorts of reconstituted, lab-engineered, made up “quotes” are shot throughout Tune In. “Quotes” made up of words from two, three, and even four sources, spoken months or often years apart.

Ala Carte Creations 🍱

It really is a buffet, and these ala carte creations come in all shapes and sizes. They might just be words that have been plucked up and glued back together to make something more useful to a particular narrative. (Ellipses or dash optional.)

TUNE IN: “John saw a bigger picture, and it would be surprising if it wasn’t equally obvious, or made obvious, to Brian and George. He likened Paul’s enduring snag with Brian to his other long-standing difficulty: ‘[Brian] and Paul didn’t get along—it was a bit like [Stuart and Paul] between the two of them.’” (Footnote 37: Interview by Peter McCabe and Robert D. Schonfeld, September 1971)

Bonus 🍒 Phoebe's dramatic reading of John's original quote:

The Donut 🍩

Then there are a seemingly uncountable number of “quotes” with a sentence or three ripped out from the middle, but with zero representation that more words were ever there. (And in most of these particular deceptions, the simple representation of something excised (. . .) would make the quote fine. There are a lot of these, but they are also the easiest to fix.)

Chapter 10: “I was in a sort of blind rage for two years. [I was e]ither drunk or fighting. **It had been the same with other girlfriends I’d had.** There was something the matter with me.”

And then there are the true buffet bonanzas, words lifted and twisted beyond recognition until they say something brand spanking new.

However, John remembered Paul’s attitude to Brian being very different. John was always emphatic that Paul didn’t want Brian as the Beatles’ manager and presented obstacles to destabilize him, to make his job difficult … like turning up late for meetings. “Three of us chose Epstein. Paul used to sulk and God knows what … [Paul] wasn’t that keen [on Brian]—he’s more conservative, the way he approaches things. He even says that: it’s nothing he denies.”

The Lewisohn Remixes 🍸

And then there are the “paraphrases.” I couldn’t even begin to guess how many of these there are, and often they aren’t even paraphrases, but whole new Mark Lewisohn re-interpretations with quotation marks slapped around them. But if you don’t check, you probably won’t know, because like this Lewisohn rewrite of a well-known Mrs. Harrison quote, there’s a good chance you’ll recognize the bulk of it, making it less likely that you’ll catch the scalpel work excising Paul. And while I don’t want to get caught in the nooks and crannies of intent in an example like this one I have to say, just this once, that what has to be a purposeful excising of Paul to create a slightly new quote on one side, combined with a badly acted, bad faith—(or bad scholar)—“Where was Paul when John’s mom died?” on the other, is par for the course.

George Harrison’s mom’s made up Lewisohn rephrase which coincidentally removes Paul from the imagery.] ❦ LEWISOHN:“ Asked some years later to describe how he’d been able to help John cope with the loss of Julia, Paul could remember nothing of the period at all. It could be they didn’t see much of each other in the summer of 1958. John was working at the airport, and Paul and George went on holiday together—adventurous for boys of 16 and 15. But Louise Harrison would recall how she encouraged George to visit John at Mendips, “so he wouldn’t be alone with his thoughts.” ❦ DAVIES: “They were still practicing a lot at George’s house, the only house where they got endless hospitality and encouragement. . . . I forced George to go round and see him, to make sure he still went off playing in their group and just didn’t sit and brood. They all went through a lot together, even in those early days, and they always helped each other.”

Why do you have to slice and dice and reconstitute people’s words? No writer, and certainly no historian, should ever feel empowered to take words from a historical figure from two or three different places and topics and times, splice them together, and tell us, “Winston Churchill said this.” No he didn’t! Why are you so intent on changing the words of the people you’re writing about? What’s wrong with just using two different quotes?

You cannot take two or three quotes from two or three or even four separate statements, stick them between one set of quotation marks and say John or Paul or George or Joe Smith said this.

No they didn’t. They never said that. Why do you want me to think they did??

All these words are Abraham Lincoln’s, but this is not a Lincoln quote:

“Every man is said to have his peculiar ambition. Whether it be true or not, I can say for one that I have no other so great as that of — making a most discreditable exhibition of myself.”

(I kept it ridiculous, although I didn’t have to.)

But I want you, the reader, to be saying to yourself, “Okay, enough already. I get it!” Because in the last few days I have wandered too far into the weeds too many times and written far too many words detailing the multiplicity of ways Mr. Lewisohn does violence to each and every law of reporting historical facts, and could write many more. And I will post a more detailed list of the crimes against the quote that I am charging Mark Lewisohn with as we go forward, but I don’t think we need that now. The fact is that every fair-minded person knows what quotation marks represent, and there is no more fair-minded group of people than serious Beatles fans and scholars. And it is those fair-minded scholars who I want most to hear me. Whether you’ve written books or host a podcast or just know that you know a whole lot of stuff and take seriously your part of the trust in preserving the truth about The Beatles for us and future generations, it is you I am really talking to. My Cicero quoting-freaks. The ones who care about getting it right.

“The chief, the only, aim of style is to put facts in a clear light, with no concealment.” - Lucian of Samosata

⁠What footnotes can do, and what footnotes can’t.

You can list multiple sources in a single footnote. That’s not only fine, it’s correct. If I want to tell part of a story based on several sources, that often means several sources in a footnote. But not for one, single quote.

The problem isn’t the footnote, it’s the bioengineered quote on the page that you swept under a footnote hoping I wouldn’t notice.

Which leads us to what a footnote is not. A footnote is not a post-hoc fixative for your textual sins. You cannot do whatever you want as long as you confess it in a footnote. A footnote is not a magic spell. A footnote is not the universally understood symbol for “I have my fingers crossed behind my back.” You cannot fix lies and misrepresentations in the footnotes. Footnotes aren’t for trying to chase down three different sources to match up which part of a manufactured “quote” someone said on which date. Footnotes are not the picture on the front of a puzzle box. I should not need to find corner pieces to figure out which of these George Harrison words were actually spoken together.

Footnotes are a truthful and independently verifiable record of primary sources. It’s that simple.

And taking Mark Lewisohn completely out of the picture for a moment, I feel sure we can all agree that neither John Lennon nor Paul McCartney nor George Harrison nor Ritchie Starkey would want anyone rearranging their words as if they were guitar chords. You wouldn’t take three-quarters of Penny Lane and one-quarter of Across the Universe, put them together and call it a Beatles‘ song. So don’t take three quarters of John to Jann Wenner and one-quarter of John to Lisa Robinson, put them together and call it a Beatle’s quote.

MY PERSONAL STANDARD IS THAT IF SOMEONE REPRESENTS, “A BEATLE SAID THIS,” IT BETTER DAMN WELL BE SOMETHING A BEATLE SAID.

None of the Beatles, dead or alive, would be cool with their words being taken out of context at all, let alone two or three different statements on god knows what being combined into one. This isn’t hard, though. Use two or three separate quotation marks, and don’t take statements out of context. Don’t mix and match their words, but don’t twist them, either. If a person said something, it is the historian’s duty to represent those words to the best of your ability, and then use them to tell a factual story focused on what you feel is important. Staying true to the original words and true to their meaning. If you can’t use those words without twisting them, then change your story to fit their words, not the other way around. If their statement helps tell the story your way, use it! For goodness sake, John Lennon said at least two opposing things about almost every topic on earth, so there should be enough to choose from without being deceptive. I actually want the truth. Don’t you?

Biography is story based around accurately represented, trustworthy and verifiable facts. And look, Beatles fans, whoever your favorite is: we are not going to get the truth about his history if we don’t learn to take these things seriously. Let’s have—if not high standards—at least the lowest generally accepted standards. In the mid-term we need a lot more Beatles scholars with a lot more points of view, and now—right now—we need experienced Beatles scholars to prioritize searching out and finding smart, interested people to mentor. And we simply must ensure that we aren’t allowing to solidify into stone “facts” that are not facts and statements no one ever made. I don’t think any honest Beatles fan—(which rounds up to all of them)—wants any question around that issue.

The record is the most important thing. Now, and always. This is not about John versus Paul. John versus Paul may live on always in our hearts, but for Beatles history, it’s the wrong question. I’d rather someone be up front about their loves, but in the end the focus should be on representing the primary facts in their most pristine form. Love who you love most, but place truth above all. Pristine facts. Pristine quotes. Nothing hidden. Nothing misrepresented.

Let the historical actors speak for themselves. That is their right.

And the historian’s duty.

NEXT, WE DISSECT A MONSTER.

Final note: I became frustrated and (maybe strangely) offended by Lewisohn's obscene pretenses in 2020, but my frustrations were nebulous and unfocused until this incredible AKOM series. I feel much better now. Angrier. But better. They worked their asses off. 🥂

#lewisohn #akom #the beatles #tune in #fine tuning #frankenquotes #lewisohn's monsters #historiography #paul mccartney #john lennon #george harrison #ringo starr #mark lewisohn #a beatle never said that #beatles #brian epstein #allen klein #Spotify

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rlbbackup · 24 days ago

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A year in review - 2024 (SxF)

So, after reading the lovely @unhappy-sometimes's 2024 retrospective (which I highly recommend you read!), I thought I'd do something similar!

This will be pretty long and have lots of links and tags but I hope you enjoy this little romp I took down memory lane about all the fics I wrote this past year!

All for Naught

This was a fic that was inspired by a conversation with @glacialdawn and I wrote it up completely in 12 hours. I’m not exaggerating! We were just goofing off in dms and we got on the topic of Yuri’s decision to become an SSS officer and how it relates to Yor’s raising him…and it evolved from there.

All in all, I’m VERY proud of how this fic turned out. Having it be solely from Yor’s POV and forcing her to deal with an abrupt change in how she views her brother was a lot of fun. Of all the reveals that may or may not happen in SxF, I personally feel that the Briar Siblings reveal will be the most critical. Yeah there’s betrayal involved in the TwiYor one and Anya’s reveal will likely end in bloodshed, but Yor has hid what she needed to do to raise Yuri for over a decade and a half at least. And while she admits that her brother is intense, seeing him in his work environment would probably shatter something within her. The work of the SSS isn’t glorious. Neither is that of an assassin.

All this to say that with this as the start of my fics in 2024, I’m not surprised how later fics turned out XD

Hypothetically…

While my Post-reveal, Pre-relationship series has been written almost entirely out of order, I really enjoyed the inspiration that led me to writing this one. When I saw this post by @itsmechini, the words almost poured out of me. Twilight and Yor have had a lot of things taken from them in life, things that ultimately made them who they are but they didn’t have a choice or say in the matter. Having the choice to reveal who they truly are to each other and accepting the other for who they are feels like a healing of that particular wound and I couldn’t help but put pen to paper.

I was also inspired by the writing style of the lovely Puolain while writing this, leading me to use different scene change styles and I think it flows better because of it!

I will also admit that I cried several times while writing this, especially at Yor’s answer to a hypothetical question asked. Beyond that, this was a really cathartic fic to write and I’m glad I got to share it with you guys!

Side by Side and Locked in Tight

THIS FIC.

It’s been bouncing around in my head for a long time now, since I love the song that inspired this (Cop Car by Sam Hunt - there is also a version by Keith Urban, but the Sam Hunt version feels softer so I’m going with that one XD). I had an early draft of this fic existing in my Google docs since… 2021 I think? Right after I fell down the Ken/Anya shipping cavern and haven’t wanted to climb back out.

But actually writing this fic was a STRUGGLE until talking prompts out with the people in the SxF Rare Pair server. While it was a NSFW prompt, handcuffs just broke through the fog I’d had regarding this plot idea and BOOM I was finally able to post it.

While Ken has some of the shortest character involvement in SxF, I love this kid. I get he’s practically an OC at this point, but I’m okay with that and I love playing around with how he’d interact with the Cecil Hall Gang. I want them all to be friends. Anya should have more friends!

Anyway! I go back and read this fic from time to time and I’m still happy with it. Especially the twist at the end XD

Don’t forget to lock the door

Another fic created with the help of the Rare Pair Server! (love you guys!)

One thing that makes me laugh constantly in SxF is the fact that the Forger’s apartment has a deadbolt but it looks like the Forgers never use it XD. Imagine all those times people barged into the apartment stopped by a simple use of a sliding lock 🤣So, why not make it a plot point of a fic!

I blame @creativwit for this ultimately. Though it was a pleasure to write Twilight and Franky needling each other and Yor soothing both of them. On a second/third/however many times I’ve read this thing, I still love how they are soft with each other in their own ways.

Little Black Number

A fic inspired by my own art!

Sometime in 2023, I was talking to some friends on discord when I was reminded of Princess Diana’s “Revenge Dress” that she wore after then Prince Charles’ “Tell All” interview where he sort of hinted at being unfaithful to her during their marriage. This spiraled into “I’m pretty sure Yor would look fantastic in the Revenge dress” and going from there.

Now, based on anecdotal evidence, it’s believed by myself and others that SxF takes place mostly in an alternate version of the 1960s. Endo-Sensei does mix things about the world regarding technology in his story, but the fashion is straight out of 1960s fashion magazines. So, the revenge dress is way out of the possibilities. Still. I think the dress would look good on Yor and drew it!

The dress I describe in the story is notably different (namely that the skirt is ankle/floor length versus the above knee design of the inspiration).

To the story itself, I really want Yor to have friends and while I’m still wary of Melinda I think the two of them could be close! So I wrote about them having girl time together, bonding even when they are in two different social groups and where they can compromise on things. It was a quick and fun write! I really loved this one!

A moment of weakness

This fic was inspired by @/usleepover's art on Twitter!

Like most of the other fics mentioned here, this was inspired by chats on Discord. I have USleepover and @astersugar for this. Long before ch. 109, we were wondering what would lead these two to interact, and guessed that it would probably involve Dr. Forger’s office. Now…that conversation spiraled into something wildly different from what I did in this fic, but it did inspire me.

As a little more background, I have had a fic in the background for a year and a half now where Yor experiences a medical emergency and how the Forgers’ lives change as a result. I have no idea when or if I will ever post that fic since it’s…heavy. Emotionally and mentally heavy. But I was able to write this in relation to it. While I’m not specific in what ails Yor, I did leave enough for one to guess. Like it’s larger, heavier sister, this fic took an emotional toll on me. Having someone you love in the hospital and not being able to do a damn thing to help them is…difficult. I can’t put into words exactly how difficult that is. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, that’s how bad it is. So writing Loid and Melinda come to terms that they are out of their depths and still want to do something for Yor was cathartic in a way. I’m really happy with how this one came out and still reread it on occasion.

Rendezvous

I half blame @sister-cna-reader for this 🤣Her Hidden Under Roses’ Au with McMahon and Sylvia has me in a CHOKE HOLD and I was sunk for this ship from the start. So I decided to write about it. The other person I “blame” for this is @/Ari_Gateau on AO3 for encouraging me and ultimately giving me the prompt idea in the first place! You both are wonderful and I love you dearly!

I went back and forth on where in any timeline to put this, but ultimately decided that my PRPR verse was the best place. With Twilight and Thorn Princess revealed to each other, I could see their handlers also involved in that. Handler and Director aren’t exactly friends, but they are allies enough to watch each other’s backs if they find themselves on an assignment where they have aligned goals.

Leaving this fic with the ending I did was a choice I also debated internally but I like it! And I guess that’s what matters 🤣

Pink Sakura

OH BOY THIS FIC.

The inspiration for this hit me upside the head very suddenly on Kiss Day (May 23) and I decided to choose violence. Like with Side by Side and Locked in Tight, I pulled my “canon but mostly an OC” buddy Ken back for some hanahaki “fun” 🤣This one is in the same universe as Flowers and Thorns, but this is clearly the angster younger sister. And once I started writing, I couldn’t stop. I wrote for almost three days straight before I was ready to post this. But it was worth it.

Adding Anya’s chapter wasn’t something I had originally planned (not that there was much planning involved in this fic 🤣) but once I finished Ken’s chapter, I realized there were some pretty glaring plot holes. So I used Anya to fill them and I think that worked out really well! I know hanahaki isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but I enjoy it and I’m glad I wrote this one!

New Moon Blues

I return to my Myth Au! 👏 I’ve mentioned this in my author notes, but this whole au was developed by several people (@httplovecraft1890 , @gonnahypatia, @whatroguewrites, @awphooey2u, @juuyeah and @connoisseursdecomfort) and started by @foxtamer113. I couldn’t have made this without everyone’s inputs!

This one was a plot we had discussed ages ago. I think once we nailed Loid and Yor’s roles down, we almost immediately started brainstorming how Anya fit into their lives. We pretty much made her their biological child from the start (if my memory serves me), which I genuinely love in Aus. We did debate over HOW she was born, even though we agreed that she would be a baby goddess. One of the ideas mentioned was something about mingling blood and tears but we decided that the "Athena" route was much more fun to play with. In the end, I altered it just a bit mostly because of inspiration from a comment on the story before this one (Soothing Rays). (thank you to that commentor! I can’t find it right now, but you are amazing!)

Floodgates / Throwing Away Fate (just to keep you safe)

These fics are a RIDE my guys.

First off, Floodgates was originally a gift from the lovely @creativwit and I hijacked it because of conversations about this au on discord 🤣(like several others on this list amirite??) The idea of Kasper came from those conversations and we’ve grown insanely attached to him. Originally, he was going to be the contact that Garden silenced in ch 43, but we loved him too much to do that.

Since then, we had this idea of what would happen if Franky really did end up in Garden’s crosshairs, and Wit wrote the first chapter of Floodgates as a start. I’m pretty invested in Yor as a fault, so I kept thinking about how she would handle this situation and ended up writing the “interludes” for this fic. I’ve since renamed those chapters to the lyrics of Loyal, Brave, True by Christina Aguilera since that’s the song I primarily write these chapters to.

Throwing Away Fate is a prequel (hence why i’m mentioning it here) and was pulled from those same conversations. I love the idea of Kasper already been head over heels for Franky before the real action gets going in Floodgates, so I wanted to explore how he found Franky and went on this adventure running from Garden. Originally, I had wanted to write more (up until they are found in Floodgates ch. 1) but I was running out of steam and didn’t want to force myself any farther. Maybe one day I’ll (or wit, or both of us together) write the scene where Shopkeeper finds Kas. That might be fun 😈

Crosslegged in the Dim Light

Unlike the song this title is drawn from, it’s pure fluff! I saw this art by EvuriKigen and immediately started writing. There wasn’t much thought put into the development of this fic since I just started writing. The only thing I did think was that I wanted this to be in my Post Reveal/Pre relationship series, where even though Twilight and Yor have all their cards on the table, sometimes they don’t need to talk about the specifics of their jobs. They know and trust their partner, and that’s really the point of this story. 🥰

Inferno

Shifting gears pretty abruptly, we once again dive into my chats over discord 🤣While I will grumble about how Yuri’s superior doesn’t have a name 😒, I love the dynamic Endo-Sensei set up for the First Lieutenant (I know in the English version he’s called “Captain” but the Japanese says “First Lieutenant” so that’s what I’m going with!), Yuri and Chloe. So I wanted to expand on that outside of their tracking down WISE agents.

And while I know there is no evidence of any of them being closer than colleagues, my shipping brain just loves the idea of Chloe at least admiring her superior. Hence This fic.

Like Crosslegged in the Dim Light, I wrote this one very quickly and with little thought about plot. I’m pretty happy with this one!

7 Minutes in Heaven

This one was a beautiful joint venture with @cambot77, @sister-cna-reader, @strangeduckpaper and @creativwit! As with several of the last fics, this one started it’s life on discord. It was our original hope to have this done by Kiss Day (May 23) but that changed as we all kept writing. It was a blast!

Writing out a list of all the pairs to start off was a treat because I kept randomly forgetting some of them XD. But we got them all and planned out a vague idea of what could happen in each chapter. Then I used an online spinner to divide up the ships that hadn’t been previously claimed. After confirming that everyone was happy with what they had, we made the order.

Ao3’s Collections and Co-author features really helped us here and reading everyone’s chapters brought me genuine joy. It’s so wonderful watching how all of our different writing styles and takes on the characters fit together as a whole. I honestly cannot pick a favorite chapter since I love them all. Thank you all again, my dears. This project was so much fun!

Complicity

The fact that it took me 9 months to finish this one is still astounding to me 🤣I had planned for All For Naught to be a stand alone, but then I saw a prompt on the @dailytwiyorprompts tumblr and that quickly flew out the window!

Seeing everything from Twilight’s perspective and going through his mental gymnastics was honestly a blast. Not sure if there will be a follow up to this duology or not, but anything’s possible.

Psyche

The last fic I started in 2024. This is a gift for the lovely @cantareincminor and was something she requested specifically. Her prompt was: “Mole hunt arc with a twist: Garden sends Thorn Princess to Shellbury to assassinate Wheeler. Instead of Nightfall, Thorn Princess is the one to stumble upon Wheeler and Twilight. She absolutely mops the floor with Wheeler and saves Twilight. Up to you whether his mask is off or on—could be awesome either way if she believes her husband or her brother is in danger.”

No going to lie, I was completely surprised when this developed into a 10k first chapter. The second chapter is still in the works and looks like it may also end up about that length and there’s no clue about the 3rd. But I want to talk about the inspirations behind this fic beyond the prompt.

The title for this fic changed multiple times as I was writing it and probably spent more time as “untitled” than anything else. But within the day I posted it, I was struck by Orpheus by Cantare herself! I honestly love mythology (as my Myth series shows I hope 😅) and considered the wider plot of where this story would go. Without giving away too much, the story of Eros and Psyche just fits. Yor is the wife that doesn’t truly know her husband and through some twist of fate ends up finding out. While this story won’t be a one-to-one retelling of the myth, there may be echoes found within it until the end. And I’m really excited to share that with you all!

Honorable Mention: Sleeping with the Telephone

While I started this fic back in Nov 2023, a lot of it has been written in 2024. This fic has been an honest to goodness rollercoaster to write…and it’s not done yet.

In my author’s note, I mention that I originally wrote part of the first chapter as a one shot on my RP blog, but it has developed moreso than I could have anticipated. There are a lot of themes in this, from draftees suddenly leaving their children and spouses behind, to family dynamics and the struggles therein, how war impacts relationships as a whole, and the like. Of course most, if not all, of these are addressed in Spy x Family, but bringing the war back to Ostania and having them fight another country entirely was interesting.

Unlike the phenomenal @niregonnagiveyouup’s Not a Vein of Stars (which i HIGHLY recommend), I wanted to base this story around some of the hot conflicts during the Cold War. The US and USSR were infamous for recruiting other countries to help fight “their own” wars (like the Philippines sending troops to South Korea and The Warsaw pact sending troops to fight with the USSR in Albania). This still happens in the present day (such as the UK sending troops to Afghanistan and Belarus to Ukraine), even if it’s not to the same insanity that WW2 was. I don’t like it. I never have liked war, and writing this story from the perspective of a family being caught in the proverbial crossfire helped me hate it all the more.

But this story is a passion project of mine. I’m at the home stretch and re-reading this story to center myself for that happy ending I’ve promised myself really helps me love it all the more. Someday soon that fic will have a complete next to it’s name and I can’t wait.

I know this was long as heck, but thanks for sticking with me! I didn’t realize I had written so much this past year since I took a break for a good chunk of it. But in hindsight, I’m really proud of how all of these works turned out and want to thank everyone who read, left kudos and/or comments. You all are wonderful!

Happy 2025 everyone! Here’s to more stories! 🍾

#long post #Like TOO LONG #Year in retrospect #spy x family #rachel writes things #sxf fanfics #my works #behind the scenes

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creativecupcake · 24 days ago

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Oh Goddess Beyond Part 3

Ok, heads up! This is gonna be LONG cause I really want to get Amira the game already! I want some input if y’all can. Do y’all want Yuuto as a romantic interest or keep him platonic?

Warning ‼️ Mentions of death, childhood neglect, bullying, and harassment. Nothing too serious but I do bring up the topics. Plus the yanderes are finally starting to show their faces!

Chapter 3 - A Goddess Comes Home

Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3

The end of year was rapidly approaching as the Night Raven students and staff went through plan after plan, spell after spell to break through to the other side of the Ramshackle mirror. But nothing seemed to work. They would get so close, only to have an invisible barrier to keep wrecking every attempt. They had made some progress when Yuu had mentioned Silver’s spell allowing him into the mirror world. The whole Mickey situation was explained and then how Silver had found Yuu and Grim in Mickey’s dream/the mirror. They had gotten so close, Silver had even been able to step into her word one night when she was asleep. But it was like he was in a bubble, he was there but couldn’t touch anything.

They’d all agreed to separate for winter break, hoping to find some clue to get over the last hurdle. Each of their homelands had unique magics and gifts from the Goddess, maybe they could find the key there? Truthfully, most of the boys had originally wanted to stay on campus and ‘keep an eye’ on the Goddess. It got to the point that the staff had gotten Idia and Ignihyde to make the Ramshackle mirror’s monitor able to stream on a secured network. Speaking of Idia, since the Goddess’ phone was connected to her computer, he and Ortho were able to use a mix of technomagic and hacking abilities to get access to her computer. They’d begun watching some of her old streams and looking into other aspects of her life in the other realm.

With the permission of staff, limited information had started being distributed to the rest of the student body. Heartslabyul students debated over every assignment and paper the Goddess had written on ethics and laws, discussing how this changed or supported the Queen of Hearts laws. Savanaclaw praised her strength when it was revealed that the Goddess had taken up kickboxing. And don’t get them started on any time she mentioned liking a certain animal, there was a vicious debate on what her favorite animal was. Octavinelle beamed with pride upon learning that the Goddess of contracts was not only studying business but had her own small business that she ran on her own. Octavinelle and Pomfiore actually had oddly detailed discussions on this topic as her business was selling handmade and thrifted one of a kind outfits that she altered. She even had options to make totally custom items for customers, with the right price of course. The fact that she talked about ethical treatment of workers, a dislike for fast fashion, and her love of smaller or family owned businesses seemed to rejuvenate both dorms.

Speaking of rejuvenated dorms, Scarabia students took up a majority of the top ranking students all of a sudden. They would constantly play and replay a clip of the Goddess saying how she loved learning new things, and how a desire to constantly learn no matter the topic was an admirable trait. Ignihyde, oh Ignihyde were practically extroverted with how excited they were. I mean, their Goddess was a streamer, loved video games, and had admitted to being an introvert for the most part. There was a forum going around Ignihyde (with input from some outside students) on games that were similar to the Goddess’ favorites. Some students had even begun gathering together to make custom games and tech for the Goddess when she arrived. Idia and Ortho had a hand in every item, with Idia occasionally gloating about how he knew the Goddess’ preferences the best. And finally, Diasomnia were practically rabid. They gushed over the Goddess’ virtual model, her outfits, the wings that seemed to be made of glass, the small scales that seemed to litter her cheeks and shoulders. Many a discussion was held about the meanings behind every choice in her model and outfit. Some had made paintings and other works of art depicting the Goddess both in her model form and her true form. Artists across campus were practically swamped in commissions.

Those who were allowed direct contact with the Goddess had taken rotations monitoring the mirror. They had come to learn so much about her and had individual moments they all loved to replay.

“I’d say my favorite foods are spicy-” Cater rejoiced. “I do love sweet things, but in limited amounts. I’d say my favorite dish would be Arabic Chicken Biriyani, but I also love when I can make homemade Samak Harra, when I can make it.” Cater absolutely gushed over the pictures of the homemade food she flashed on screen.

‘Do you like cooking, or prefer for someone else to do it?’

“I do like cooking, but I feel like it’s a required skill for any adult, especially a partner.”

‘Oh? So what about guys like Trey and Jamil must be a dream for you Rara.’

“Trey and Jamil? I’ll admit I would die to try some of their signature dishes. Trey’s baking always looks gorgeous.” Trey was trying not to die of happiness, the Goddess herself complimented his baking. Oh no, he needs to find out her favorite dishes! He needs to practice them until they are perfect. “Not to mention Jamil seems to have a perfect grasp of his spices. Seeing him teach Grim and Yuu about spices and how to toast them or add them to a dish reminds me of my great grandfather when I was learning to cook.” Oh, Jamil was full of pride, the Goddess called his cooking perfect. “Truthfully those two are part of my Male Wife category with Ruggie, Jade, and Floyd.” Male wife!?

‘Ok, I can see Trey, Jamil, and Jade in the Male Wife role, but Floyd and Ruggie?’

“Yeah, Floyd has mentioned more than once he really enjoys cooking, but his attitude can affect his cooking. Which I mean, mood, but I see him as being just as good as Jade in the food prep department, though Jade does get extra points for his tea preparations and tidiness, not to mention I think having a garden with him would be great.” The tweels were more than happy to be on the list, though this may have started a new competition between them. (Floyd wanted to get rid of Jade’s ‘extra points’.) “Ruggie is with Jamil near the top of my Male wife category though. He cooks, he cleans, he knows how to budget and take care of groceries and a home. I mean, what else is there?” Ah, Ruggie was too speechless to even give his usual cackle, but his little tail was wagging.

‘Rara! Since you make your own fashion, who would you want to design for the most?’

“If you mean who would I think I could design something for, everyone. They all have such unique looks and styles and it would be fun to see what I could make for them all.” Oh, to think of being gifted something, anything, from the Goddess; especially a custom outfit meant to reflect their ‘unique look’. “If you mean who do I think would fit my style of fashion, I’d say Floyd, Vil, Cater, and Lilia. Maybe Leona too.”

��Why do you think they fit best? Like why Floyd?’

“Well Floyd mentioned in his broom birthday look that he loves experimenting with land fashion. He really loves new things and color combinations. Most of my looks are a little more out there and play with colors. Plus we both love and appreciate shoes.” Floyd had never been so happy before. His sweet little Goddess knew him so well. He wanted to squeeze her and never let go.

“Vil is an obvious choice. While the style may not match his personal taste he has discussed his appreciation for alternative styles and different body types. I feel like even if the style is not for him, he would give me honest feedback and we could have a great discussion over fashion and the industry.” Vil was aglow, Rook had his usual poetic diatribe. Vil was sure he would adore any item literal perfection could give him. He was practically in a daze dreaming about talking fashion and modeling any and every item he could for her.

“Cater would be fun to go thrifting with and helping him make the perfect MagiCam worthy outfit.” Cater.exe has stopped working, please wait while he reboots. “Truthfully, I feel like his more skater and alt fashion fits my vibes perfectly. And while I do feel like Cater looks adorable in his normal looks, I want to see him be his true self. He’s a great guy and I want to see more of Cater, not the filter.” Oh, never mind. Cater.exe has full on crashed due to overheating. His face was even redder than Riddle’s hair.

“Lilia is pretty obvious. He is pretty much full alt, and I’m living for it.” Lilia’s poor old heart! Oh how this fae thanked the Goddess. “Truthfully I’d love to make him a whole set, and get to style his hair. I mean, I love his short hair, but Lilia also rocks the long locks. His style is just fun to play with.” And now Lilia is contemplating going back to his look back in his general days.

‘Rara, you’ve talked about relating to a lot of the boys, especially the overblots. Do you have a specific boy that you relate to?’

“Ruggie.” The reply was so fast and so serious in tone that it threw off the previously cheery vibe that day. “I really adore Ruggie, he’s one of the sweetest boys, and hyenas are one of my favorite animals, like big top five. I had a hyperfixation on them for so long, did you know they’re actually in the mongoose family? Their closest relative is, like, meerkats! They are super cool, they’re smart, and they are so social it’s awesome!” Ok, who allowed their Goddess to be so cute? Ruggie was crying hearing his Goddess talk about his kind with such kind words.

“Sorry, sorry, got off topic. But I do love Ruggie. The only thing is I relate a little too well. Like with the overblot boys I do relate to Azul’s bullying, Jamil’s parentification, and Leona’s ostracization, but growing up in poverty affected me a lot more.” Oh, we’re trying to start a war here? While the overblot boys feel a closer relation too our poor Goddess, everyone was beyond pissed to hear she had faced such poor treatment.

“For those of you who have been around a while, you know I am more than willing to get serious and talk about my upbringing. My family was not the most healthy. My father was the youngest and FAR behind his siblings in age, and also favor with my grandparents. So he tried to ‘keep up with’ my uncles.” She looked uncomfortable talking about it all, but clearly had resolve. “My mother and father made sure we had a nice house, car; new clothes every time we went to see my father’s side of the family. But we were poor. We were lucky if the money lasted each paycheck. The worst thing was not having food, not that I needed more food according to my family.” Snide comments said under her breath made Ramshackle feel smothering. Why? Why had she been through such unfair circumstances? Who could be so stupid to waste money like that. “Being so food insecure made me have a bad relationship with food for a while. But it also inspired me to be more mindful of my money and volunteer at the local food bank. No child should feel that pain.” She rested her hand on her stomach, as if feeling a distant pain of hunger. “That’s also why the minute I can I want to start a garden or planter box to grow my own food. Sorry if that got heavy, but that’s why I relate to Ruggie the most.” The air felt heavy in their lungs, a sickly atmosphere suffocating them all in sorrow.

‘I’m so sorry to hear that Rara. I hope you’re doing better. On a happier note can you tell us about your favorite animals? You said hyenas were top five, what else is there?’

“Nah, it’s good. I don’t want to drag the mood down but talking about it is the best thing, for myself and anyone out there who may be facing a similar situation.” Her smile was so friendly, even if it was small, it soothed the ache in all their hearts. After going through so many challenges she still wanted to raise others spirits.

“My favorite animal is cats.” Grim was cheering, though didn’t he always say he wasn’t a cat?

‘What type of cat? Like house cat?’

“No, you miss understand me. I mean ALL cats. Domestic and wild. Big and small. All cat, perfection.” No one had seen Leona smugger, boy was giving everyone the dirtiest little smirk. “Second would be elephants. They are smart and big babies, and basically have super powers. Third is frogs, nothing beats them in the cute department. Plus poison dart frogs are just the coolest thing. Hyenas are fourth. Then fifth and sixth flip places all the time. It’s either snakes or octopi.” Oh look, it’s Azul’s turn to be smug, with a little added Jamil.

‘Hey, I know you said you relate to Ruggie the most, but what about Yuu? You said a few days ago your relationship was weird?’

This was it. What Yuuto had been waiting for since he discovered his tie to the Goddess, to Amira. He was frantic for the truth. Why he felt like being away from her put a heart in his chest. Why were most of his memories only of her when they were young? What else was he missing?

“Truthfully, Yuu reminds me of my best friend that I lost…a long time ago. Yuuto was my closest and truest companion, and losing him, it broke me for the longest time.” She seemed to choke up for a second, tears welling up in her eyes.

“For those of you that don’t know, I’m German and grew up back in a smaller town in Germany. Yuuto was my first real friend when I was little. His family moved from Japan for some opportunity, and he didn’t really know the language. We were both bullied, but we bonded, we stood up for each other.” A sad smile grew on her face as she seemed to relax, lost in memories.

“I remember I brought him into a world I was creating, named him my Champion, cause he knew martial arts and let me watch him practice kendo. He was so sweet, so compassionate, and so strong. We were inseparable.” She looked so happy, Yuu felt his heart break and mend all at once as he remembered the things she discussed. He longed to hold her again, to have his friend by his side.

“We made a whole world full of magic and monsters, Yuuto wanted to be a big hero, defeating dark inky shadows and making friends with dragons and beasts. Oh, I remember one time I was creating a familiar for him, Yuu-chan was complaining about how a little black cat wasn’t cool enough for a champion. We had a whole argument about how to make him ‘cooler’. ‘He needs blue flames-orange flames are too basic! Ami-chan he needs a sharp tail to scare monsters with!’ Uh, he was such a dork, but I loved making our world together. I think I still have the old doodles of his familiar. We ended up making him like a Pokémon, starts off small and cute but becomes a big beast later!” Oh boy, that was a revelation. Grim WAS Yuu’s familiar! But not just that, he had a hand in creating his own friend. Grim was practically bouncing off the walls, the Goddess herself had made him! He was so super special! Yuu couldn’t help but laugh at Grim’s excitement, but hearing Amira try to mock his childhood voice warmed his heart even more.

“Neither of us had the best families, or the easiest times with school, but we had each other.” Her tone shifted, mood suddenly turning somber. “I remember my parents were dragging me off to another family event, but I just had this feeling in my gut…something wasn’t right. I begged my parents, I begged Yuu-chan’s parents, I even went to Yuuto myself and made him SWEAR on our kingdom that he would stay at home and be safe while I was gone. But when I got back, my friend was gone. We buried an empty coffin.” Tears threatened to roll down her cheeks, as her once vibrant eyes became vacant. “I never had the heart to ask what happened. Everyone always just called it a ‘terrible accident’. I was devastated after it all, and so, so, alone. I remember I went back to our old writing one last time. Going back to our world and seeing all our creations hurt, but I went back one last time. I wrote Yuu-chan into the world. He was my Champion, he would return stronger than ever, surrounded by true friends, and he would be happy. I haven’t been able to touch any of it since, felt like if I did I would just break it. That’s why seeing Yuu in Twisted Wonderland is so complicated for me.” She took a shaky breath, trying to reign back in all her emotions. “I can’t see him, I can’t be sure he’s MY Yuu-chan, but it feels like that goofball is living our childhood dream and it makes me so happy, but that pain just doesn’t go away.”

Yuu, no, Yuuto remembered that day. She’d been so distraught, tears rolling down her chubby cheeks like waterfalls. He’d kept his promise and stayed at home while she was away, but something happened. He remembered yelling, doors slamming, his head and body hurt, but none of it was clear. He stared solemnly at her in the mirror as his friends tried to console him. He knew it in his heart, he didn’t die, Amira, a true goddess of compassion, had saved him and somehow led him to his friends, to Twisted Wonderland. She had saved him, and while the time in between was a blur, he felt nothing but strength and comfort. This solidified his resolution, he would bring her here, where she was safe. He remembered her kindness, the bullying they both suffered, and don’t get him started on her FaMiLy. She saved him and now it was his turn to return the action.

That was before they all split up for winter break. There had been a moment of worry when it seemed the Goddess had forgotten her phone when leaving for her own break, but they all calmed down after Idia was able to confirm that she was logging into her accounts from another device and all seemed fine. They used the time to research and go through her back log of streams and videos. Though some like Leona weren’t too keen on it, they had created a group chat to discuss any discoveries or ideas that came up.

Did you see the video of her kickboxing? How did she take down someone like five times her size?! -HeartBreaker

Of course she did, she’s mentioned training in her last couple videos -HowlingWolf

It’s so cool how she balances her training, business, and school. -ChickMagnet

Don’t be talking about her height like that! She uses her height and her good looks better than Vil! -ApplePom

I took note of all of her moves and she seems to use her size to avoid opponents and hit key muscles for the biggest impact. -AnalysisFlame

How could you doubt the power of the Goddess! She is beyond perfection! She balances all things so well! -LivingBolt

Oh! What true beauté, her representative form is so unique and delicate! And to receive such a compliment from pure perfection. -ArrowToTheHeart

Yes, I do admit hearing the Goddess herself that she likes my beauty mark is quite the honor. -OceanaryEntrepreneur

I would hope that you two do not grow egos over a simple complement. But I must admit I admire the design of her virtual model, the glass wings are such a unique and ethereal touch. -BeautyQueen

I do admit the wings are quite distinctive, as are the crowns and cuffs in her hair. -QueenofHearts

I know! She looks SO magicam worthy! She is so cute, look at all her designs! -CayCay

I just had a thought about when we bring her here. -RamshackleRangeler

What is on your mind Child of Man? -GaoGaoDrago

Amira seems to know she made Twisted Wonderland, but not so much that she’s a. Goddess. I’m a bit worried about the shock of arriving here so suddenly and changing status. -RamshackleRangeler

Champion-shi is right, Ortho and I have been analyzing how she talks about our world and she seems to see herself separate from us. I’d hate to suddenly be thrust into the limelight like that. -SSRHacker

That’s true. I will bring up to the staff how we can ease her back into the world so as to not stress her holiness. -BigBat

That was the trend most of the holidays. They had found some spells and old techniques that may help, but no serious breakthrough through. All seemed pretty uneventful, until they returned from the new year.

URGENT! EVERYONE GET TO RAMSHACKLE ASAP! -SSRHacker

All available students and staffed dropped what they were doing and rushed to Ramshackle.Upon arriving they found Idia nearly breaking down as he typed furiously, bouncing between monitors. Ortho was trying his best to calm his brother, with little success.

“What’s the issue Radish Sprout, it better be as serious as it seems,” Leona growled, his fur standing on edge already.

“Sadly it is very serious Leona Kingscholar-san. The Goddess is in a terrible state. Nini-chan is looking into the details now, but she seems so distraught.” Ortho brought up the display of her world, revealing a sad sight. There she sat on her messy bed, hair disheveled and vacant stare. Her room seemed to be rifled through but she seemed too out of it to notice. She wasn’t crying at the moment but you could clearly see her red rimmed eyes and her cheeks were stained with tear tracks.

“What happened?” Malleus’ voice was short, cold, and a threatening rumble of thunder echoed through the dorm.

“I can’t believe this,” Idia’s voice was clearly shocked as his frantic face began turning to one of rage.

“Shroud. Give us the details, immediately.” Crewel and Trein stepped up, quickly trying to calm the crowd before something started. Idia motioned Ortho over and they pulled up three big displays to give everyone a clear view.

“Someone has accused her of plagiarizing her school work,” Ortho started explaining, Idia was too angry to say anything intelligible. The screen showed an email from her university claiming that another student claimed that she had copied all of her essays from them. The school was being quite harsh, claiming that she was to be kicked out immediately, that a ‘counsel’ would be held to review her work, and that she would be stripped of all her achievements and awards.

“Then it seems that the school reached out to her family,” cue a barrage of messages from various family members calling her a disappointment, various names, asking why she would damage the family’s name. “Her father has sent a message declaring that she was not to come home and they were disowning her. Her mother also sent a message saying that she was to never to reach out to them.” The tension in Ramshackle was palpable. Everyone’s anger and disgust at the situation was only adding to their frazzled nerves.

“Then Idia-nii was able to find messages from her so called friends stating that they want distance from her, not wanting to be dragged down by her bad name.” That. That was the final straw. The room became filled with outraged voices, all shouting about how this situation was ridiculous.

“So she’s been isolated from her school, family, and friends? Sounds like someone was doing this on purpose,” Leona’s observation seemed to chill the room. I mean who would ever try to hurt someone as kind as the Goddess? WHY!?

“That’s what Nini-chan thinks too, he’s trying to search for any proof of the culprit! We wanted to ask for some assistance on proving the Goddess’ innocence as well. It’s obvious she worked very hard on all of her work! She deserves the credit!” Ortho was absolutely fired up, everyone was waiting for him to pull out a laser like he did during the ghost bride fiasco.

“Octavinelle would be more than happy to review all of her contract works and ethics papers, we will clear our Lady’s name immediately,” Azul was quick to step up. Jade and Floyd following, their smiles colder than ever before.

“I plan to have Pomfiore look into her friends and family, if we can get some Ignihyde support to gain access to social media we will find any and everyone who is smearing the name of perfection.” Vil had a poisonous atmosphere radiating from his perfect smile. Rook and Epel were looking equally as deadly as they added their support.

“You’ll have Ignihyde’s support, but I’m not letting these pigs tarnish her name! I don’t care if I have to dox them all myself! Even after we bring her over I want these blasphemous normies to pay for hurting the literal Goddess of progress and peace!” Idia was practically foaming at the mouth in anger.

“Don’t think you’re the only one wanting to get pay back for hurting the Goddess herself Shroud.” Malleus insisted, his usual smile eerily malicious. “We will all be making sure they pay for what they have done. It is quite obvious they do not appreciate her kindness and warmth.”

“Khee he he, well said Malleus. We’ll make sure these rotten scoundrels regret turning on her for the rest of their lives.” Lilia voiced his agreement, getting various sounds of agreement from the others.

“Is there anything we can assist with?” The Ramshackle ghosts cut in, spooking some of the boys. “We’ve been trying to help more at the school so you all had time to work on the portal, but we can’t stand by when the Lady herself has been hurt!” Before anyone could respond Riddle unexpectedly cried out.

“That’s it! I think I know how to get past the barrier!” Riddle shouted, looking at Trey who seemed to be catching on.

“You don’t mean-”

“Che’nya. His signature spell should allow him to reappear just beyond the barrier.” Hope seemed to burst within the group, could this be it? The final push they needed to get her here, away from all those that betrayed her? Bringing in an RSA student made their skin crawl, but they did not care, she was far more important.

“Even if Che’nya can get past the barrier I worry about getting her back, not to mention she would not leave Ghost or Toast behind, and I’m sure she has some sentimental items.” Yuu brought up, wanting to make sure they wouldn’t upset her further by not thinking of little details. “We’ve tried to destroy the barrier before, but nothing has been strong enough to keep it down or make a big enough entrance.” Yuu turned to Leona, both knowing what he was thinking immediately. “Leona’s unique magic is stronger than most, it should help us get everything through on our end.”

“Well now herbivore, isn’t that just a fun idea.” Leona smirked, already running multiple plans through his head. “With a few tweaks and some strong magic, like the Lizard, to keep the portal open, this may just work.”

“It seems we have two plans to complete then,” Crewel cut in, his tone dripping with rage. “Myself and Sam will assist Ignihyde, Pomfiore, and Octavinelle in clearing the Goddess’ impeccable name, as well as making sure her room and wardrobe are ready. Not to mention making sure to cut all those corrupted mutts down a peg.”

“Vargas and I will make sure every preparation and detail is taken care of for the portal. To actually bring the Goddess and her things here will take more magic than before. We need to have a clear list of any items we should bring, Yuu would you please assist us with that?” Yuu nodded and ran off with Grim to start on it all. “Vargas will work with the more physical students. The old magic circles that the Goddess gifted the old mages seem to help quite a bit with the portal. We ask that you all talk to your students and get them to help where their talents are the most useful.” Trein instructed them, holding their attention well. “Finally, Crowley will go with Mr Rosehearts and Clover to RSA to get their student. We will keep the Goddess to ourselves as much as possible, but we need to do what we must to bring her home.”

“While I agree with that all, I think we need to ease her now,” Yuu said, returning with Grim. “If Idia can access her computer I remember a song that used to put her to sleep instantly. Would be best to let her get some rest.”

“I can do that!” Idia and Ortho immediately returned to their computers. With that Yuu helped them pull up the song and they all watched her body slowly relax. Her eyes closing as she tried to fight the sleep, before she finally gave in. She fell into her bed, pulling a plush creature into her arms. The room eased a bit seeing her finally resting. They all went to work immediately, if this worked they could get her home in two or three days tops.

Night Raven had been nonstop energy since that night. The students had been up in arms hearing about the slander the Goddess was facing; they were more than happy to put in the effort to help either team. Crowley hated having to ask for Ambrose’s student or help, but the raven could puff his feathers with pride showing off the Champion to his rival. He did NOT miss the opportunity to brag about how the Goddess and Champion had chosen his school. And while RSA was more than willing to lend them Che’nya, but requested that their students be allowed to lend the school aid. Riddle, Trey, and Yuu had to talk Crowley into letting them at least review their spells and preparations, reminding him that they needed to assure the Goddess’ safety and comfort when arriving in their world. Both schools agreed to secrecy, signing the golden contracts Azul had conjured.

Finally, finally, it was time. Crewel and Vil had paused their work to make a sleeping drought. They were using Silver’s unique magic to strengthen the mirror’s connection to the Goddess, so keeping her in a deeper sleep gave them time to gather her pets and her things. Malleus and all the other housewardens and vices would pour their magic into the mirror spell to make it as easy as possible for the group to travel. Leona would break down the barrier to allow everything to pass through. And Che’nya would be the one to enter the Goddess’ room and pass her and her things through it all.

It was draining, the mirror took so much more energy than before. If they hadn’t had powerhouses like Malleus and Riddle they may not have been able to pull it off. Silver felt himself being pulled into the Goddess’ dream the minute Leona started breaking down the barrier. It was so soothing and serene that he had to fight off the temptation. Leona, for once, loved his unique magic. The barrier was much harder to break down, but he could do it, he could show the Goddess the King of Beasts praised just how useful he was. Che’nya, oh Che’nya was in heaven. Her room, though still a mess, smelled incredible. It smelled like home, and comforted him, calling for him to rest and just enjoy her presence.

He would love to, another day he would, but today he needed to bring her home. Slipping her the sleeping drought was simple enough, her cats though were another story. The bigger one stood over her, screeching at him that no one was to touch his mother. The little one though, dang, that one full on threatened to claw his eyes out. It took him a minute to explain that they were here to take her back home and away from all the mean people making her cry. The cats were skeptical but clung to her body and allowed him to gather her items first. Passing them through the barrier he triple checked the list before grabbing her phone and gently picking her up off the bed. Ghost and Toast sitting on her stomach, making threats the whole time. The three closed the barrier and carried her things back to Ramshackle.

The silence when everyone saw her face, finally here in person. They swore to be ready when she woke up. They would ease her into the world, but none of them were willing to give up any time in her presence. Now that she was here they would pour all their energy into utterly destroying everyone left in her realm. They took her to the room they prepared for her and laid her on top of it. The fairies that lived around campus shooed them out of the room, changing her into an elegant silk gown that Kalim had gotten for her. With that they tucked her into the plush bed, and settled around her room, singing her soft lullabies. The Goddess beyond the mirror had finally returned home, and everyone was more than ready to be at her beck and call.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #Twst x oc #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x OC #Goddess AU #yuuto saito #yuusona

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aritsukemo · 1 month ago

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A Mid-Night Snack | Kunikuzushi

Music Artist Kunikuzushi x Idol Reader

Warnings: Major Character Death ( Kunikuzushi ), suicide, depression and bpd are implied, drugs are referenced and used ( Kunikuzushi takes antidepressants and ends up overdosing on them ), severe hallucinating ahead ( Everything that happens in this fic does not actually happen ), Scaramouche is used a stage name, Kunikuzushi as his real name, modern au ahead, also nasty topics such as vomit and blood are used as descriptors towards the end. With all that said, please enjoy this at your own volition and risk!

A/N: It's officially January 3rd where I live so Happy Belated New Years and Happy Birthday to my gloriously written shnookums Wanderer! To celebrate his birthday, I've decided to do a part two to my former-drabble-now-fanfic 'A Boring Experiment'! I'm seeming to have a pattern in trying new things with him so like my other Kunikuzushi fanfic, this is completely new ground for me. That said, I hope you can still enjoy. ( Also this is a gift for the one who enjoyed my little drabble i wrote on a whim and requested a part two of it! )

Part One: A Boring Experiment | Part Two: A Mid-Night Snack

Tagging: @nursedflowers / @kazusys

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Lately, a new all boys group going by the name of 5WIRL seems to be on the rise to stardom! In only two weeks their debut album, 'Alone With The Wind', has already charted as number five in The Billboard Global 200; an astonishing feat that has only ever been accomplished by the solo artist Scaramouche!"

"Speaking of him, a new shocking piece of evidence has urged police to reopen the case regarding the sudden and tragic death of world-famous idol Y/n L/n. It has officially been revealed that L/n had a high dosage of prescription drugs in their system by the time of their death which have made police believe drove them to jumping."

"Furthermore, it's now being suspected that their death was not actually a suicide but instead a cruel setup. By who, you may wonder? Well, it's obviously none other than the love of their life Scaramouche himself! More about our thoughts after this commercial break—!"

With the click of a button the radio fell silent, allowing the quiet that once trespassed into the bedroom to seep back in. A groan of the one who was disturbed is as brief as their stretches as they sit up, their purple hair flopping in disarray around the sides of their face as they check the clock. It reads 3:12am.

It felt odd to wake up at such an hour seeming as it’s usually the time he's falling asleep. It pulls another groan out of him, but this one was wrapped in frustration rather than drowsiness. It was always a challenge to get to sleep in the first place let alone get back to sleep, especially after—

A growl rumbles through his core, interrupting his thoughts. Its origins are the center of his stomach; a consequence of deciding to lay around in bed instead of making dinner last night.

He decides his next move rather quickly; he might as well get a snack.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He's in the kitchen in another five minutes and snacking on some instant ramen in the next. He doesn't bother going back to his room, finding himself too famished to do anything except stuff his face—which he inevitably does.

His elbow brushes against the counter that he leans on as he raises the cup in his hand, lifting a large portion of noodles up with his wooden chopsticks in tandem, before immediately bringing it to his mouth and relishing in its bland taste.

"Hmg...Kuni', is that you? Why are you up?"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He turns at the sound of the familiar voice—the sweet symphony of his beloved’s wrapped in the raspiness of sleepiness—and, upon turning, is greeted with the sight of your drooping eyes boring into his own.

"Got hungry," He simply mumbled, his tongue feeling like a paper weight in his mouth. He tried his best to ignore the feeling.

You slowly walked up to him, your feet thudding against the floor as if being dragged down by an anchor. You reach him after ages, and when you do, he lifts his arms up and allows you the space to dip under them and slug your arms around his waist. As if your head weighed one thousand pounds, it immediately flops forward and collides with the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. Kunikuzushi immediately cages you, and after that, resumes his eating.

“Don’t get food on me,” You warn, though you’re too tired to convey your words in a properly threatening way. Even if it did, his reaction would’ve been the same; rolling his eyes heavenwards.

“Don’t insult me. Unlike you, my food actually goes into my mouth.”

The room fills with silence again after that...not really. Periodically, a series of slurps fill your ears; a product of your boyfriend being too eager to stuff his face which ultimately results in him having to suck up a long trail of ramen in one go. You don’t mind the sound though. In fact, you actually find the obnoxious noise pleasant and you’re sure that if it continued, it’d be able to serenade you back to sleep..

Then again, you’re so tired right now that a blow horn would probably have the same effect on you. The only thing you can imagine having the opposite effect on you right now would be—

A loud gurgle cuts through all other micro-noises in the room, its animalistic growl devouring any other sound and swallowing it whole so that when it fades there’s complete silence. A heartbeat of time passes before you finally open your eyes again, peering up at your boyfriend with a kitten-like gaze when you do. He exhales in an exasperated manner yet his arms lift regardless. You take the opportunity to slip from him, your grip loosening around his body until it fades altogether, allowing him to walk past you.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

You were in the dining room now—if you could even call it that. Really it was just a cheap, foldable table the two of you shoved in the corner of the open kitchen along with some chairs.

You sat across from each other. Kunikuzushi—long finished with his cup of noodles—staring absentmindedly as you demolish the freshly-microwaved ramen cup with vigor. He watches in silence. His eyes follow the journey of your utensil as it twists and wraps the yellow strands around it until it’s sturdy enough to lift into the air before traveling slowly upwards. He catches every little twitch of eagerness your lips make before they finally open and allows the delicious, soft food into your mouth at last where he hears a loud crunch!

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He blinks, the sharp noise forcing him from his daze and back to reality. His face then tightens, scrunching up from perplexment and overall discomfort at what he had just heard. You catch his expression by chance and noticing it has you looking up, your own look of confusion painted on your face.

“What’s wrong?” You question, still chewing on the huge bite. He doesn’t answer you and simply stares at you with a narrowed gaze. It earns a scowl from you and another loud call of his name, “Kuni’!”

“I can hear you,” He quickly snaps, “No need to yell.”

You can feel the end of your brows twitch, agitated by his tone and overall comment. Kunikuzushi notices, but doesn’t speak on it and instead listens to your soft munching until it eventually ceases.

“If you heard me then you should’ve answered,” You grumbled, already preparing your next bite by forcing your utensil to twirl once again, “And you get an attitude when you were the one giving me strange looks.”

“..Anyways..nightmares aren’t usually a common occurrence with you unless..” You find yourself hesitating to ask your question and decide to calm your nerves with another bite of food.

You bring your utensil up to your lips again, this bite is bigger than the last and you can see the thick, white steam admitting from each yellow strand. It singes the delicate skin of your lips when it gets near and you have no choice but to take the time to gently blow the steam away. It’s in that little time that you finally work up the courage to continue.

“..Have you taken your meds?” You whisper the question into the darkness, your eyes glued to your noodles, too scared to watch his reaction take shape—to see his lips dip into a frown and his eyes darken with annoyance.

“Yes, I took ‘em before I went to bed,” He grumbled. The lack of vexation in his voice coerces you to glance up at him. He simply looked exhausted, nothing more. It was a sight that was as surprising as it was relieving. You found yourself staring for longer than you probably should’ve. Kunikuzushi’s eyes quirk up and he catches your gaze, frowning when he does so. It’s only then that you realize how unconvinced you likely looked in that moment.

Alas, it was too late to fix your face because the damage had already been done. The love of your life was already looking away and flicking his hand, saying, “You can go check if you want. I’m sure you know the exact number of pills I had in there.”

His comment was deep with scorn and though his eyebags and lazy tone hid it well, you could tell you had hurt him to some degree. It made your heart sting, made your frown grow three times bigger, but you stood to your feet regardless. You might as well.

A moment of silence passes as you make your way to the kitchen, passing the table and ultimately him as you slowly make your way over to the specific cabinet near the fridge where the two of you kept all your bottled remedies. You reach for the handle and quickly realize that you had accidentally brought your noodle cup with you, seemingly too hungry to part with it. It makes you pause only for a moment, though, and ultimately, you switch hands, grab the handle, and swing the cabinet door open.

Medications of all kinds sit in the same place you had left them it seems, there varying lengths and thrown around locations making the small space seem like a mini junkyard. You scan each bottle, briskly reading the description of those whose initial appearance matched the particular bottle you were looking for only to quickly move on upon reading the first couple letters. You do that for some time, reading bottles, moving bottles, and even restarting the process once or twice…but it seems what you were looking for was nowhere to be found. It had completely disappeared.

“Kuni’,” You called. Having long set your cup of noodles aside and are now gripping both cabinet doors, which are both now wide open, by their knob handles. You hear his raspy hum—his sign of acknowledgement—and it’s then you finally say, “Where are the pills?”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Should be on the second shelf,” He replied, “Well they aren’t,” You retorted.

“Look again,” He tells you, “I’ve looked through the cabinet, like, three times already; they’re not in here,” You told him.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep!

“I put the bottle back in the cabinet after I took one, it should be in there,” You heard him say. You could tell he was agitated. It was especially clear in his next words, “Do you think I’m lying?”

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

“No,” You tried to say as sincerely as possible despite raising your voice. Though past experiences have made you doubtful, you do vaguely remember him convincing him to take them the other night and him getting up to go and take them.

Did he hide them then? The thought sits at the back of your mind, but you try to ignore it. Unfortunately, your subconscious suspicion must be blatant in your voice—more so than your heartfelt sincerity—because the next time he spoke, it was with the same irritability as before.

“You think I’m lying,” His earlier question comes out as a firm statement and has you just about wincing upon hearing it. Kunikuzushi looks back at last and his eyes lock with your discomforted expression—a rather audacious look to have on your face in his opinion, seeming as you’re the one accusing him of doing wrong.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

Seeing that your previous plan of diffusing the situation—and his anger—failed miserably, you move on to your next one, going on to ask in a cautious tone, “Why are you getting so worked up anyways? All I did was tell you that your medication wasn’t in the cabinet.”

“Unless…Kunikuzushi, did you actually—” You stop yourself from letting the full sentence slip out, but it was futile. The rest of your question weighed heavy in the silence that followed, lingering in your boyfriend’s ears—his mind—until he finally exploded.

“I took the fucking pills, aright?! I took them last night and then put them back in the cabinet! Them being gone now has nothing to do with me!”

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

“I didn’t mean it like—” “Bullshit. You know exactly what you meant!”

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

“Do you even think I took them? Because I did. You know why? Because someone wouldn’t stop bitching about it!” His screams bounce off the walls before reaching your ears. The volume has you flinching away from it.

You’re sure that if your neighbors weren’t out of town, you’d have a noise complaint taped to your front door come morning..

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

His voice suddenly dips, evening out to his normal tone yet still holds his anger as he spoke, “I’m not a child. I’m capable of doing things without you having to constantly keep up with me,” He turns his head away from the entranceway—from you—deciding to direct his glare to the table instead. Having such an intense gaze off of you felt like a drop of water in a desert; relieving. It allows you to breathe and move at last, albeit with trepidation, and you do so, slowly making your way over to him.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! ………..Beep.

You make it up to him relatively quickly even with your turtle-paced walk. You stop right behind him, but he doesn’t acknowledge the newfound proximity and continues to keep his back turned to you. You don’t feel disheartened by this. If anything, you found this a blessing. After all, it’s much harder to keep your voice from wavering when you have daggers pointed your way.

“I’ll admit, for a moment, I did doubt you” You began, your hands reaching out for him, your shoulders relaxing when he allows you to slide your hands onto his shoulders. You grip at them, tenderly squeezing and massaging the tensing flesh underneath your fingertips as you continue on to say, “Even so, I believe you now. I mean, why else would you get so upset otherwise, right?”

Kunikuzushi remains silent so you assume that’s his way of giving you the green light to keep going. You take the chance, leaning in to plant a kiss to his scalp before muttering into it.

“I don’t see you as some helpless kitten, but I just..I worry about you sometimes.. A lot of the time, actually. I always am. I never intended to come off as bossy. I do try to stress the importance of taking your medication and following up on your appointments with your therapist, but that’s only because I want to ensure you’re okay.”

“That still doesn’t give me a pass for my actions, though, and I hope that you’ll be able to forgive me. If not immediately, then maybe after some cuddles and a good night’s sleep?” You’re full on leaning into his back now and you’re certain that at this point you were likely leaning all your body weight onto him. It wasn’t entirely on purpose. In fact, you’re pretty confident in your assumption that those noodles digesting in your stomach had sucked away the little energy you had in you and were the cause of this, but you didn’t really mind. Not if he didn’t.

“I’m going to bed,” Is what he mutters instead of an apology for his overreaction—not that you expected one from him anyways. You stopped expecting and hoping for things like that a long time ago, as sad as that may be.

He sits up and you begrudgingly straighten up yourself. Too tired to even hold your head upright, your head droops as if it weighed the same as a sack of jewels. Having no choice but to stare downwards, you watch as the chair legs move back and his knees straighten out as he stands up. You slide back, allowing him space to walk past you. He does just that, but before he’s completely out of reach, he swings his arm back and hooks your fingers with his. It’s then that your eyes open to what he really said, or rather, what he wanted to say but couldn’t bring himself to.

“I’m sorry. Let’s go to bed, please.”

You squeeze his hand once and never let go; silent proof of your acknowledgement and acceptance. Kunikuzushi, feeling your grip warming his hand, steps forward..only for his knees to suddenly become jelly underneath his skin.

His legs buckle for a mere moment before he collapses, ultimately dragging you down with him. Your descent is short, yet you still stare at him as if you two had just fallen off the side of a mountain and managed to survive the fall unscathed; bewildered and fearful.

“Are you okay?” Your lips move faster than your brain can process what just happened. Your limbs do too, your free hand coming up to cup his cheek. Kunikuzushi leans into your touch instinctively only to soon after peel it away from his slicken skin; a contradicting action, one of many that made up the person you loved.

“I’m..” He meant to say fine, but slurred incoherency replaced the word instead. It made your brows furrow, made your worries grow sky high, but as you fixed your lips to ask him more questions, he suddenly leaned against you and it was then that you finally realized the problem.

Your poor baby was tired—no, exhausted. So much so that he could barely even walk.

You sigh—more so out of relief than anything else—as you force yourself onto your feet once again. You help him up, and despite the feeling of him leaning against you feeling like a boulder crushing you, you slung his arm around your shoulder before beginning to walk step by step to your safe haven—the place you both often yearned for when you wanted to escape from the world; your shared bedroom.

In a matter of minutes, the two of you were wrapped under the gentle heat of thick covers while your heads were caressed by the soft plush of your pillows.

At last, you two found peace. You especially felt relaxed at the warmth of the noodles you ate earlier feeling like a fireplace in your stomach, though it did little to improve your overall circulation. Nevertheless, it fueled your drowsiness, gave you a push as you crept to the edge of the hill of sleepiness, just about tipped you off the edge that led down to the bottomless abyss you’ve come to call dreamville.

But how could one properly sleep with their goodnight kiss?

“Goodnight, Kuni..” You whispered, eyes just barely open as you lazily craned your head upwards. Kunikuzushi, as if having read your thoughts, was already leaning in.

You meet at a point and your lips connect and grow slick in an instant by each others’ saliva. His mouth starts tingling, quickly spreading to his tongue. It felt as if someone had spit already chewed up food into his mouth. It forces a grimace onto his face that’s barely visible even when he pulls away. In the end, as you turn on your side, he tries to swallow down. He struggles. His saliva feels like a soggy chunk of ramen, but he manages to succeed. Unfortunately for him, the taste lingers, and in the end, he forces himself to ignore the sickening feeling and taste altogether.

He grumbles out a similar phrase of wishing you a peaceful night's sleep, finding himself licking his lips as he does so. His tongue brushes along his lips, swiping up the thick slick that coats it. With his eyes closed, he doesn’t notice its color and though it burns his tongue and makes him want to vomit just like your kiss did he, again, pays it no mind. Though his reason this time was because he simply had no other choice, too tired to even open his eyes.

He begins drifting off to sleep. His strength fades first; starting from the tip of his toes and slowly making its way up to his face—which felt as if it had been splashed by a bucket of water. It felt damp, just as it did earlier when he woke up. Was it sweat? If so, how long had he been sweating?

....He’ll find his answers tomorrow, surely.

His body seems to fall asleep before his mind could catch up, and because of that, he remained awake despite his eyes and sense of touch having long left him. It feels weird—discomforting even—to feel so numb and only be able to hear the slow thumping of his heart. Though it was still a paradise when compared to his sleep paralysis moments he’d have at times.

All things must come to an end at some point though, good or bad. This is no exception. Slowly, the beat of his heart slowed to a point a turtle could beat it in a race before it stopped altogether. What quickly followed that was his fade in consciousness—which felt as though he was falling down a deep, clean hole. Nothing to grasp at, nothing to feel.. Nothing to guide him but the eerie sense of weightless chilling his bone marrow.

And just before he hit the bottom he heard your voice, suddenly felt your touch, and it was as if every negative thing that was happening to him in that moment had vanished..

“No matter what happens, Kuni’, I’ll always love you and stay by your side. I’m not going anywhere, so please, sleep without worry so that when you awake again, you’ll be able to properly relish in the sun.”

………………….Beep………………….

“Tonight, many are mourning the depressing news regarding the worldwide music sensation, Scaramouche—real name Kunikuzushi—who was found dead in his vacation home this morning.”

“They say that friends of the artist had grown concerned due to his sudden drop in communication and decided to pay him a visit after he missed an important get-together that had been planned months ahead of time. When they arrived at his vacation home, they found that all the lights were off and the door unlocked which spurred them to investigate and eventually find him dead in his bed, choking on his own blood and vomit.”

“It is reported that his cause of death was caused by severe overdose likely triggered by the chewing and ingesting of Amitriptyline. With the discoveries made so far, Police suspect his death of being a suicide and that he had to be dead for at least a few days before he was discovered.”

“It causes many to wonder; could his sudden death have been related to the Y/n L/n case? Possibly driven by his own guilt? Or did his now missing manager have something to do with this? More about our thoughts on tonight's talk show after this commercial break!”

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

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laura1633 · 7 months ago

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I do have lots of lovely asks to respond to which I will respond to tomorrow 💕. For now I thought I would post this. It is something I wrote a while ago, it was part of a longer one shot but never worked out quite how I wanted but I thought I would post this random bit here as I think it works as a stand alone scene.

Doodles

Max feels like he's back at school as he sits in the latest driver's briefing with his FIA branded notepad and pen. He's not entirely sure whose idea it was to make everyone takes notes but if he had to bet on it he would be placing all of his money on George. The Brit is sat in the front row of the meeting with his notepad open and pen already pressed down on the page because god forbid he misses jotting anything down.

There's a few other seemingly willing participants, Esteban and Logan have at least got the notepad open, but for the most part everyone seems a little unimpressed. The Dutchman gazes down the line of chairs, smirking to himself as he sees Fernando and Valtteri ripping pages out and making paper airplanes.

The meeting starts a little later than planned, the delay and the fact the room is so warm is enough to almost send Max off to sleep, the Dutchman just catches himself a few times before nodding off entirely. It's not that he's not interested in safety measures or discussing the ins and outs of penalties but sometimes the topic of conversation can be a little uninspiring. Todays hot topic seems to be something about underwear or he supposes they could be talking about tyre blankets, Max isn't entirely sure because he zoned out at the start and now nothing makes sense.

The Red Bull driver sits up a little straighter in his seat and finally opens his notepad and starts doodling, laughing quietly to himself as he sketches out a picture of a cat in a top hat. It's a useful way of staying awake, his gaze fixed down on the paper as he mindlessly scrawls anything that comes to his head.

He's pretty absorbed in what he is doing when Daniel suddenly nudges him in the side and taps down on his own pad to show Max his own drawing. It’s a huge cock complete with little beads of what is presumably pre-cum dripping from the tip. Max chuckles childishly and loudly. A few other drivers turn around to see what the fuss is about and Max just about manages to hold on and not let himself descend into uncontrollably laughter.

The meeting ends about an hour after its scheduled end time and there is an audible sigh of relief as the drivers start getting to their feet. Max jumps up purposefully and starts bolting for the door hoping to get some nice fresh air and maybe a can of Red Bull to wake him up.

"Hey" George coughs loudly trying to gather everyone's attention, there's a few groans as everyone stops making their escape, "Someone dropped their notepad”

Fuck.

Max rolls his eyes, he's pretty sure he's going to be scolded for dropping his pad down on the floor. He's just about to own up to his mistake when he sees George open the book and the Dutchman's heart almost punches its way clean out of his chest.

"Is this yours Charles?" George waves the book in the Monegasque's direction.

"No" Charles huffs, clearly a little put out at being blamed. Not that this is the crime of the century, it's a notepad in a multi billion pound industry.

"It has your name in it ...oh wait no..." George frowns at the book again "Max Leclerc”

A strange gargled sound forms in the back of Max's throat as his face burns up into a nice bright red colour. He's pretty sure this is how he is going to die. It's not going to be some heroic death or some nice peaceful passing around love ones, it's going to be right here in the driver's briefing room surrounded by colleagues as he succumbs to embarrassment.

"Max Leclerc, actually Max Verstappen-Leclerc, it's written in a heart" George mumbles again and if Max could form any words right now he would tell the Brit to stop talking because he's already received the fatal blow and any further embarrassment is purely overkill. Instead he just stands there and lets his whole body glow red and his palms turn sweaty.

If he didn't feel like he was in high school before then he certainly does now. The page of his notebook is full of signatures, his signature, his signature if he married Charles and took his surname to be precise. It's like something he watched girls do in class all those years ago. It's surrounded by hearts with different variations of their name smashed together, Max Leclerc, Charles Verstappen, Max Leclerc-Verstappen, Max Verstappen-Leclerc.

"Max is this yours then?" George murmurs a little more quietly. Max honestly preferred it when the Brit was being brash and to the point because it somehow seems even more humiliating now that the Mercedes driver seems to understand what he is looking at and has shifted into using a more sympathetic tone.

"No" Max snaps, although he guesses the fact he is blushing and almost on the verge of tears is enough to highlight the fact he is in fact lying.

"Okay Okay" Daniel laughs, "I think he's embarrassed enough" The Aussie ruffles his hand playfully through Max's hair, "Sorry Maxie, it's my awful sense of humour, I thought it would be funny”

"It's yours" George scrunches his face up looking a little confused.

"Yeah" Daniel snatches the notepad out of George's hand, "I was just fucking around to wind him up.”

Max isn't sure whether anyone is convinced or not but he's never been so grateful to anyone in his whole life when Daniel links arms with him and strides out of the room confidently.

#Lestappen fanfiction #Lestappen #Max Verstappen fanfiction

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big-mean-trans-dyke · 16 days ago

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Backstage, Samantha Wright does her best to calm her nerves. The opportunity she'd been given, it was..... huge. Unprecedented. It'd never happened before, and probably never would again.

Sam had been given the chance to speak in public. Not just in public, she'd be given the biggest audience she possibly could be. She'd be speaking just after an important political conference, the conference she could hear wrapping up not 100 feet away on stage. The stadium it was taking place in was big enough, and the event would be televised worldwide. And so, unlike anything seen before, a TERF would be given the biggest platform conceivable to spread her ideas.

As she hears the speech outside nearing its end, she sees another woman approach. A 'real' woman like her, with a pussy. Her handler. Back when she'd been contacted about making this speech, about spreading her ideas, it'd been..... this woman who'd made contact. She'd never learned the girl's name. In any case, it'd been her who'd helped make all this happen, given her the time and date of her big speech, arranged transportation, accommodation. And now, she was laying out the way this 'speech' would actually take place.

"You'll be going out in a few minutes, get yourself ready," her handler says. "You'll need to be naked, of course." Sam feels a pit form in her stomach, but she's quick to push it down. There would be conditions, of course. And so, Sam was quick to undress. She refused to be late, to delay. By the time she had her shirt off, her Handler was already continuing. "The topics you submitted have each been written on red construction paper and left in a container. You'll be given one minute to speak on each as you collect them." Sam pulls off the last of her clothing. That would all be fine, she'd been prepared to improvise a little, it wouldn't be a perfect speech, but she'd be able to make it work. Her handler steps around behind her, bringing one of Sam's hands with her. "Finally, your hands will be bound behind your back, as the last speaker of the conference will still be on stage for your speech." A handcuff clicks around Sam's wrist. The pit in her stomach grows, but she's just as quick to push it down again and offer her other hand. "Questions?"

Samantha shakes her head, her handler nods in response, and with that, she's guided to the edge of the stage. "-ease welcome to the stage, Samantha Wright, one of the nation's most prominent TERF activists, here to speak on some of her thoughts." There's no time to think, no time for hesitation. Samantha walks out to the center of the stage. The second she's beyond the safety of the curtain, she feels her nakedness in earnest, feels the eyes of every member of the audience, feels the cameras, focusing in on her pert tits, her ass, her pussy. The way her hands are bound behind her forces her chest forward, emphasizing her breasts. Still, she does her best to keep her cool. "I...." Her voice comes out soft, unsure. She collects herself, and starts again. "My name is Samantha Wright, and I'm here today to speak on the rights of TERFs and the current government." She pauses again, remembering the rule she'd been given, and looks around the stage for this container. She doesn't see it at first, all she can see is a garbage... can.....

The nausea in her stomach becomes harder, and harder, and harder to ignore, the feeling that this whole thing is just a ridiculous mockery. Still, there'll never be an opportunity like this again. And so, holding her head high, she walks her naked self across the stage, standing in front of the garbage can. There, just visible, she sees the corner of a red card. And then, she realizes she can't actually reach it. Her hands bound, the angle awkward, it's just..... Well.... she takes a breath, pushing her dignity down along with her nausea this time, and leans forward, dipping her head down into the garbage can, wrapping her lips around the corner of the card, and drawing it out.

She can't read it holding it in her mouth, of course, so she drops it to the floor, and the writing's small enough that as it lands there, she's forced to drop to her knees to see what it says. She does, at least, still have the dignity to stand up again before she actually begins speaking. She takes a moment to collect her thoughts before she speaks on the topic written on the card. The stupid, meaningless drivel she spouts would've rotted the brains of everyone in the audience if any of them took it seriously. Thankfully, nobody did, and so instead she learned a round of uproarious laughter.

Still, she'd committed herself. She wouldn't waste a single second of this opportunity. So as she estimates the end of her first minute, she turns back to the garbage can. She knew there were 5 or 6 topics she'd chosen to speak about, even if she can't see any of them from where she is. So, she forces her head back down into the garbage can, under the surface of the trash, searching for a scrap of red. It doesn't take long before she feels the scrape of construction paper against her cheek, and drags up another braindead topic, dropping it to the floor, kneeling to read it, and standing again to give the audience another good laugh.

And so it continues, each dive into the garbage taking longer, each speech earning bigger and bigger laughs. Samantha does her best to ignore the way her ass spreads to reveal her tight pucker to the audience as she finds herself needing to lean further and further down to get deep enough to find her cue cards, to ignore the wreck of her hair and makeup, to push through on the knowledge that the TERF movement will finally be taken seriously.

It's as she's searching for the last cue card, bent over, hips pushing against the edge of the garbage can, that things finally go wrong. She can't quite reach the bottom, can't find that last card, and so she pushes herself just that little bit deeper, leans just a little further forward, and loses balance. Her feet leave the ground, she slips forward, and finds herself with her face pressed to the base of the garbage can, legs flailing in the air, holes exposed to the audience. And then, in her flailing, she manages to tip the garbage can, the whole mess falling the opposite way. She lands with a thud and a clang, her tailbone banging hard against the hard floor of the stage. She struggles a moment, but with her hands pinned behind her, under her, she finds she can't do much to free herself. Unfortunately, she can also hear the laughter of the audience outside, harder and louder than it had been all night up to this point.

She lays there, catching her breath, shame roiling in her gut, doing her best not to cry as it sinks in what a joke this whole thing has been until, finally, she feels hands on her ankles. Finally, someone to help! Of course, instead, those hands pull her legs apart, nice and wide, and she really does begin to cry. She feels someone kneeling between her legs, no doubt the speaker from just before her that'd been sharing the stage, standing silently as she spoke. And then, finally, she feels a fat, throbbing cock force its way up her asshole. Cheers, jeers, and laughs from the crowd as Samantha feels herself being violated on stage, on television, a cock up her ass and her upper half stuck in the same garbage can that'd been home to her most important ideals. The same ideals she feels left on her stomach as whoever it is between her legs starts moving faster, harder, violating her asshole. She does her best to shut everything out, ignore the pain, the humiliation, and the violation, even trying to focus on the contents of the cue cards laying across her stomach. It does help, it feels like no time at all before her bowels are flooded with cum and the cock in her ass pulls out, leaving her leaking and aching. She thinks, just a little too early, that it's finally over, before she feels a warm splash on her stomach, and realizes her co-star is taking the chance to piss all over Samantha's exposed legs, and her ideas, before finally walking off stage. Sam listens as the conference wraps up, as people file out. It's only after close to half an hour, her arms falling asleep, that she finally starts to struggle again, doing her best to work her way free from the garbage can, her handler nowhere in sight, and leaves.

Her walk home is spent naked, hands still cuffed. Her ass aches and leaks cum, she stinks of piss and garbage, and, worst of all, every screen and billboard she passes gives her the chance to watch, closeup and in 4K, what a joke she is.

#transfem supremacy #transfem superiority #tnwo #terfbreaking

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numberonetacostan · 30 days ago

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I can't get the idea of the s2 contestants seeing s1 out of my head.

I'm not really sure if they'd see it as just normal II or they'd be weirded out about it, especially how they look since retain their animation quality from whatever episode they came from where the s1 contestants would be a bit more 'not all there yet' as Lightbulb said herself (although Mic does technically have a s1 design it shows up for a moment in the finale and nobody actually acknowledges that version is there).

My main reason for this though is compared to the other seasons s1 feels like a fever dream, in a good way though you know?

I think atleast some things other than the quality of just the world over all would weird them out but I'm also not exactly sure what, I mean yeah they've never seen someone spit lemons or chew the solid metal 'leaves' (how she does that is another question to them atleast) but they also have the knowledge that it's an act and the s3 contestants have seen an (attempted) show takeover, not by a meeple product but it's still happened.

Maybe things like people getting things from Walmart or the way people just up and murder each other, like with Knife burning Marshmallow which seems to be taken a lot more seriously in Truth or Flare than it ever was in s1 and they seem to take the idea that someone could've killed Blueberry on purpose pretty seriously in s3.

Hi there!!^^ Welcome, and thank you for your submission!!! :]

The idea of the season 2 (and season 3, for that matter) contestants seeing season 1 would be interesting. I don't think there would be a full-cast rewatch, what with contestants like Knife eventually feeling ashamed about some of their actions during the seasons, and Taco's presence in it in general, since she herself is a rather taboo topic in the hotel. But, if anyone was interested, Fan could certainly show them season 1! Meaning Testy has definitely seen the first season as well, yeah? They'd probably find the lower animation quality a bit odd, but make about as big a deal about it as the contestants did during episode 12 of season 1; not liking it but also not finding it particularly shocking or unusual.

Haha, yeah, that's a pretty good way to describe season one. It's a lot looser and rough around the edges, but still a ton of fun!! <- #1 fan of ii season 1. Who's gonna take that title from me? I'll find you. Move your furniture 3 inches to the left and take all of your bath towels.

Taco's...fascinating oral capabilities are so interesting. I like to think the lemons end up in her little shell inventory, and she can spit them out from there, because that's my best explanation. As for her being able to eat metal and spit it out into another shape? Idk man, Taco is one of the contestants with the most odd abilities, ask Mephone. I like to give her gijinka fangs, we do see her with sharp teeth in s2 ep11, so maybe that's it? It would probably end up written off as some weird thing Taco did for her cover, since they wouldn't be able to ask her how she did it. Testy might have a bit of a tizzy over how it could be possible though, hehe. Mic might also be interested, since she has the opportunity to actually ask Taco, and she would want to know what that mouth do. Completely platonically, of course. Of course.

The Wal-Mart would probably confuse them, since it doesn't seem to be an actual place on the island, but rather a place they're programmed to accredit random accusations generated by Melife to, yeah? The s2 players could try asking Paper or Marsh what Wal-Mart is like, but their descriptions would be vague at best. The murder would be more upsetting for them depending on what point in the timeline they're at. Early s2 still has some casual murders, but later on is when they get serious about it, yeah? Depends on the contestant, really.

#inanimate insanity #ii taco #taco ii #loomy's answers #inanimate insanity hc #ii mic #mic ii #tacomic #loomy's metas #paper ii #ii paper #marshmallow ii #ii marshmallow #test tube ii #ii test tube #ii fan #fan ii #knife ii #ii knife

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 years ago

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AITA for assuming a fellow student used ChatGTP on one of our group projects?

i’m in my late 20s, and i decided to pursue a (post bachelor) degree where one of the required courses is also open to bachelor degree students. this is a class that is heavy on fieldwork, meaning we go into the field, and then go home and write a paper about it, and since this group is small enough, group reports are done with everyone collaborating, no sub groups. our first report was pretty much torpedoed by our professor, who took serious issue with how we didn’t call in ahead for some format changes, didn’t write the report in a way she liked, dismissed our photographs as unprofessional, and almost accused one of our members of committing plagiarism because for one section of the report, we were asked to do risk analysis. since we had never been taught an official way to do it, and the professor gave us an old report from a few years ago as a reference point, that member used it to base her own analysis and the professor went so ballistic, our member was almost in tears. so now you know that the professor is extremely sensitive about the topic of plagiarism. of which she considers chatgtp a part of.

now, the second time around i was in charge of managing the report, and i decided to make it absolutely perfect so we could minimize any friction with the professor. so, same as last time, the group distributed report sections amongst ourselves, and i would edit and coordinate so that the end result would be coherent and to our professor’s liking. and when it came time for me to start editing the document, i start with the introduction, which sounded very familiar in tone, and it read very nonsensically to me. almost like no one who was actually trying to convey an idea would write those sentences. when it dawned on me that possibly, the reason why the sentences sounded so nonsensical was because the writer could have used chatgtp, but that the tone and topics sounded straight up lifted from the introduction i wrote for our first group report, i was pretty damn mad, but i decided to take a diplomatic approach.

i contacted another group member who had formerly been a students association leader and asked her to mediate for me: had this student used chatgtp lifting from my introduction? his response was that no, he hadn’t, but that he had “taken inspiration” from my introduction to write his. hearing this was very aggravating, especially since the mediator a. disagreed that it sounded AI generated and b. said maybe i should be flattered because i’m just a really good writer. this despite the fact that the introductions for the two reports did not have anything to do with one another. they had different objectives and different skills to practice, so even if he had just “taken inspiration” from my introduction, he had written a terrible introduction that could barely be understood, paying no attention to what he was supposed to be writing. so at that point i just took over that section in the rewrite because i felt like i couldn’t trust him to actually put in any work and contribute.

later on in the editing process, i also caught some suspicious sentences in another section, written by someone else, that sounded like someone had copy pasted from another source. i didn’t think of this as an intentional attempt at plagiarism, more like whoever wrote it had pasted some reference sentences to write his own things rewording the core idea and then citing the sources. but i still took the time to message the guy and tell him maybe he should be more careful in case our professor got on our case over it and started yelling plagiarism about it. and his answer was to be offended that i would even accuse him of such a thing, and that maybe i should be careful about levying such serious accusations at people.

this guy had never been cold to me in my life. i think the other two must have talked about my chatgtp suspicions in some other group chat and now i was the bad guy for having even briefly suspected that something had been up. i decided to just concentrate in doing my job and ignore whatever shit these people had started about me behind my back, and what do you know, we get our report back with perfect marks. no thank yous. no word about it in the group chat where we organized. this despite the fact that when we handed in our first report, much appreciation was given to the girl that helped organize the report hand-in. hell, about half an hour before i handed in the report the girl i asked to be our mediator sent a meme saying “leaving before i end up looking like an idiot” before leaving the group chat which was. an insane thing to have to face in response to my working my ass off to make the report work.

if it were just the guy that i had accused of using chatgtp who turned on me that were acting like an asshole, i could take it, maybe that the mediator, but it’s ridiculous that we turned things around completely from the first report and no one’s mentioned the report since i handed it in. did they all just suddenly decide to enforce the silent treatment? did i not approach it in the right way? i said at multiple points that i wasn’t interested in bringing this up to our professor because as i mentioned earlier, she can be kind of a pain to deal with, especially where alleged plagiarism is being discussed.

for context: the group member who wrote the suspicious introduction had never been a very involved student in the class, which could be a constant bummer considering it was a very group oriented fieldwork class. he had previously mentioned he had no idea what to put in the introduction. i still don’t think i would have given a single thought about his previous track record in class if this incident hadn’t happened.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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deltastra · 2 months ago

Text

My Sonic Movie 3 Predictions

So I initially planned to make this post AFTER my SonicxShadow Generations post.

Unfortunately life happened and I'm still writing that.

AND I won't be able to watch the movie until 3-4 weeks after the release date...

So, here are my predictions for Sonic 3. Stuff I believe will happen, how likely I believe it will happen, and why I believe so.

UPDATE: I am aware that recently, the movie's plot and post-credit scene got leaked. So I just wanted to state that all of this was written on the 14th of December when there were no leaks. I am not hinting anything or spoiling the movie. If you have seen the leaks, please avoid confirming or denying anything on the list as you may spoil the movie for people who are interested.

THESE ARE JUST PREDICTIONS. NOT SPOILERS

Super Shadow (VERY Likely)

Shadow will live (Likely)

Dr. Eggman's fate will be ambigious again (Likely)

Gerald is immortal and will drop the goofy persona in the final act (Somewhat Likely)

The ACTUAL Live and Learn song will play (Very Likely)

Maria won't be shot (Somewhat Likely)

Team Heroes will betray G.U.N (Somewhat Likely)

Time Travel may be involved (Likely)

Amy and Metal Sonic for post-credit scene (VERY Likely)

As for my opinions on it and why...

If you have no knowledge on Sonic outside of the movies, then consider this a spoiler warning

Super Shadow (VERY Likely)

Okay let's get the obvious out of the way. This is happening, we all know it. Not much to say. He will probably go super with Sonic and stop the Ark or something...

Shadow will live and learn (Likely)

It's important to remember that at the end of the day. The Sonic movies are FAMILY movies. So, I highly doubt they would kill a fan favourite like Shadow or confirm him as dead. Also, if they plan on making more movies, they may need Shadow.

However, I won't mind him being for one movie only, it could feel more impactful. But I understand many may disagree with that.

(Off topic but I hope Sonic says "Sayonara Shadow the Hedgehog")

Dr Eggman's fate will be ambigious again (Likely)

Now, this may sound like a weird prediction to make but bear with me here. I'm not saying that it will be unclear if he dies or not at the end of the movie like at the end of Sonic 2, but rather, it will be unclear if he continue being the villain for future movies. I believe this for two reasons.

Jim Carrey's retirement plans and the ending to Sonic Adventure 2.

Jim Carrey's retirement news has been very wishy-washy. It certainly seems he will return whenever he wants to but that means the writers cannot confirm his presence for future movies because of this.

This also pairs well with the ending to Sonic Adventure 2

I believe Eggman will have a moment with Tails similar to this scene. For Jim Carrey's Eggman, this scene will show the ambiguity of Eggman's actions for the next few movies. He will talk about Gerald and we will be left wondering whether he will turn over a new leaf.

(Tho, I do not know for sure what will become of Gerald by the end of the movie, since he wasn't executed. Not a fan of that change, but I will keep an open mind.)

Speaking of Gerald...

Gerald is immortal and will drop the goofy persona in the final act (Somewhat Likely)

To be honest I dislike the "Goofy villain suddenly gets mean and serious near the end" cliche. In fact, I do not like the idea of a goofy Gerald even if he is just pretending because it doesn't feel like he will emit that feeling of insanity birthed from grief.

And yet...I feel like that's where the movie is heading so it's best I learn to deal with this possibility so as to not ruin my enjoyment.

Let's talk about the immortality thing instead.

HOW ON EARTH IS HE STILL ALIVE?! I believe in the movie's universe, Gerald did eventually discover immortality using Shadow. But instead of handing it over to G.U.N, he used it on himself and went into hiding, waiting for the day he can get revenge with Shadow.

On paper, not only does this sound like the most probable, ITS ALSO KINDA COOL? Sadly the "Goofy Gerald" act throws me off sorta.

The ACTUAL Live and Learn song will play (Very Likely)

With the reveal of the ending song being "Run It", a country pop song, many have began to doubt if Live and Learn will actually play in the movie. I believe it will.

Instead of the ending credits, the song will definitely play during the final battle which eventually leads to Shadow's sacrifice. I know it's just baseless speculation on my end but the reason why I believe so is because of how much they advertise the movie as a love letter to Sonic fans in interviews. It would be crazy if they didn't add the song.

I believe that they will add the Sonic Symphony's version of the song. I listened to the symphony's version and it genuinely sounds fitting for a climactic showdown on a movie-scale.

I will still keep my expectations low because we may just get a orchestral version of it instead....fingers crossed though!

Maria won't be shot (Somewhat Likely)

A common joke among fans is Maria getting shot. I see it online and I feel like it's become kind of a flex that the Sonic Movie will have such a scene. And it feels like so many people are convinced it WILL happen. I do want that scene because it highlights the core issue with G.U.N and how far they'd go.

However, the reason why I also believe the scene will not be shown is due to censorship and how they've gone from clearly insinuating how she died, to keeping it somewhat vague.

Take a recent game like Shadow Generations for example

No guns are shown, and if they were, it would be hard to see. But the implication was still there due to the gunshot sound.

But before, they wouldn't be subtle about it.

I don't know how they'll kill off Maria in the movie, but I hope its at least G.U.N's fault that it happened. No "accidents".

SCU G.U.N soldiers do carry guns so maybe they might imply the scene. But I would also not be so surprised if they changed it. I just hope the change makes sense. In other words, I hope the movie still treats her death how it was meant to be treated. A tragedy caused by those in power.

Please...PLEASE...do not glorify or excuse G.U.N's actions SCU...yea that's my main concern so that's why my next prediction feels more like a cope...

Team Heroes will betray G.U.N (Somewhat Likely)

Adventure 2 centered around Sonic getting falsely accused by the military and even getting captured by them for a while.

Hence, this is not only a prediction, but also a hope for the movie.

It's very obvious that in the SCU, Sonic works with the police and the government. He does it to be the "hero" of Earth, Knuckles and Tails follow him. Many people are upset over this and I agree. It feels off for Sonic to work WITH authorities or support them in any way.

But the thing is, Sonic is not really a static character in the SCU. He learns and grows. So I genuinely think that Sonic will work with G.U.N for the first and second act, then betray them in some form after learning the truth.

It doesn't need to be a big betrayal by Sonic, but rather a "I'm not following orders" mindset from him.

Time Travel may be involved (Likely)

This is a common theory, not a fan of it but it seems likely that it will happen. Look at all the damage that's caused. I feel like that volcanic area was destroyed land.

Not only that, the Moon was sliced, I don't see the movies keeping the Moon destroyed. It doesn't feel like the SCU want any "point of no return" for anything (I don't know if consequences is the right word here).

If they do time travel, I hope it isn't too hammered in. Maybe just a slight change to justify the climax without taking away any of the emotional impact. But I still wouldn't be a fan of it.

Amy and Metal Sonic for post-credit scene (VERY Likely)

Yea I feel like they're going to take inspiration from Sonic CD for the next movie.

It may be possible he will be created because Sonic gives a quill to Eggman in the first trailer as a deal. Which leads to Eggman creating Metal Sonic.

With the introduction of Metal Sonic, I don't see why they wouldn't introduce Amy (Then again they are adapting Adventure 2 without her or Rouge so...).

Oh but I also recall that those who attended the premiere said that the post-credits scene is "better" than the Shadow Reveal in Sonic 2...

Is it really going to be Silver? Nah, I still think it's Metal Sonic and Amy.

I don't believe Silver will be introduced right after Shadow because it would feel too similar to Shadow. Hedgehog vs Hedgehog. So why not place Hedgehog vs Robot Hedgehog in between?

I definitely won't mind if Silver and Blaze are in the post-credits scene though. Knowing that Sonic Team planned Year of Shadow with the movie as the grand conclusion, it makes me hope they make it a regular thing for other characters. Year of Silver? Sounds fun. Any character getting a year will be fun.

Conclusion

Geez this took a long time to write...but I'm glad I got all my predictions out now.

I do want to clarify something. Reading my post again, it seems that I'm speaking about the SCU in a slightly negative tone.

I won't say I dislike the movies. I'm just cautiously optimistic. I don't expect 1:1 adaptations from them, and I'm pretty sure Hollywood execs like to get in the way of creativity sometimes in order to focus on profit.

There is also an issue of target audience. The movies, at the end of the day, are for families. They're family movies and kids are the target audience. THAT'S NOT A BAD THING. It's just the reason why I don't expect too much, the plot still has to be quick and easy to follow. It can't be TOO dark either.

However, while I do look at the SCU as just "enjoyable spin-off media", I genuinely like the movies and I am excited to see what Sonic 3 has in store!

#my thoughts #sonic movie #sonic the hedgehog movie #sonic 3 #sonic the hedgehog 3 #sonic the hedgehog movie 3 #sonic movie 3

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