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#i love how he wrote this in 1992
gemsofgreece · 10 months
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Η ηδονή των παρατάσεων -
Τίτος Πατρίκιος, 1992
Για το θεό, τι είναι αυτό που μου συμβαίνει και δεν αγαπώ πια κανένα;
Παλιοί συμμαθητές που μαζί ανακαλύπταμε τον κόσμο τώρα μου προκαλούνε πλήξη και μ’ ένα τηλεφώνημά τους.
Σύντροφοι που για να πλάσουμε το μέλλον μοιραστήκαμε τις ζωές μας μπρος στο θάνατο τώρα με κάνουν ν’ αποφεύγω ακόμα και τις τυχαίες συναντήσεις.
Φίλοι που μας έδενε αφοσίωση ακατάλυτη όσο κι αν καταπίεζε, όσο κι αν καταπιεζόταν, τώρα οι αμοιβαίες εξεγέρσεις μας άφησαν γυμνούς από περιστατικά και μνήμες.
Γυναίκες που κάποια στιγμή τα σώματά μας ελικώθηκαν λες για πάντα, τώρα τίποτα δεν ξέρουμε ούτε έχουμε την περιέργεια για να μάθουμε ο ένας για τον άλλο.
Μπορεί και να ‘ναι για καλύτερα, έτσι βαδίζω προς το τέρμα χωρίς αποσκευές βαριές που δυσκολεύουν το περπάτημα.
Clumsy English translation (by me):
The Pleasure of Overtimes (1992)
For God's sake, what has happened to me and I do not love anyone anymore?
Old schoolmates I discovered the world with, now even a single phone call is tedious.
Companions I intended to shape the future with, and so we shared our lives in the face of death, now I am tempted to avoid even the accidental encounters.
Friends with whom I was bound by unbreakable devotion, no matter how much it suppressed us, no matter how much it was suppressed, now our mutual riots left us stripped of incidents and memories.
Women whose bodies once spiraled with mine, you thought it was forever, now we know nothing, neither do we care to learn about each other.
Perhaps it's for the better, as I am heading towards the finish line without heavy luggage, such that would make my steps harder.
-- Titos Patríkios (1928 - )
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calummss · 11 months
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dating 90s/00s eminem …
masterlist 𓆩♱𓆪
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kim and hailie don’t exist in this universe
start and development of relationship
i definitely imagine him to take notice of you at one of the underground rap battles roughly 1992/1993
your friend who was interested in going dragged you along one night cause they were really into rap and hip hop
and there you saw him! the one and only marshall marthers destroying every opponent that stood before him
after the battles came to an end you were already attracted to him and tried to get to him to talk to him
here’s how i think it would go:
‘hey, i just wanted to tell you that you absolutely killed it on stage. it’s my first time here so i lack certain knowledge but i know enough to know that you have an incredible talent’
‘thank you. your first time? what’s your name?’
‘y/n’
‘eminem. marshall mathers’
i imagine you to awkwardly shake hands. like i know you’re in the detroit underground scene but neither of you knew how to proceed
‘i hope this won’t be a shot in the dark but can i give you my number?’ your mind literally racing
‘sure, i’ll give you a call if i’m interested’
THIS MAN TURNS AROUND AND DIALS YOUR NUMBER AND LETS YOU ANSWER!! turning around with a smirk and just straight up low key flirting with you
he was embarrassed to bring you to his home but you eventually just showed up one day cause he wasn’t returning calls—you reassured him that you didn’t care and let slip that you loved him no matter what
marshall was definitely a bit overwhelmed at first and took him like a minute to snap out of his trance because it was most likely the first time he truly felt loved, appreciated and cared for
you supported him and his music until he was eventually signed
everyone was confused why you stayed with a man who wrote violent lyrics especially about his wife so you had to explain over and over again that the wife was fictional
and everyone that truly knew marshall knew that he would never lay a hand on you. he would rather d!e than hurt you
three years after you meet you become pregnant and were scared he was going to leave (news flash he didn’t)
he reassured you that if you wanted to keep the baby that you two would figure it out and that he would and could never ever leave your side
you married quick and definitely rushed it but it proved to be the best decision you made including keeping the baby
this lead to the birth of your beautiful daughter—for some reason the name romy jane won’t leave my mind so i’ll just leave it at that
anyway you blink and stardom surrounds marshall
a few hiccups occurred during the relationship but nothing major and you always managed to talk things trough
what the relationship would include
his hand would alway be on your waist! no matter if you’re on his lap, standing next to him or whatever, his hand will be at its rightful place
i believe he prefers cheek and jaw kisses. he loves a good forehead kiss and hand kiss when he’s emotional and talking to you about certain struggles
speaking of struggles; he would always and i mean always put on his strong persona for you but sometimes his walls would crumble and would cry into your shoulder holding you so tight like you’re about to slip from his grasp
you would make appearances in a few music videos
he would also prefer to be in the studio alone but brings you along when all demos are done to get your opinion because he values it a lot (low key more than dres)
of course you would be his main inspiration for a lot of songs, also you daughter, because he admires both of you so much
marshall is 100% a very jealous and possessive man. not overbearing but maybe a little more intense than the average man? he trusts you fully but not others. he doesn’t forbid you of anything but will always say and do stuff to let others know that you’re off limits
i imagine after you got married he got a tattoo of your face or name on his chest like right over his heart
likes holding hands in public and an occasional kiss but nothing more. he prefers his affection to be reserved for only you and not the world
ONLY refers to you as ‘my girl’. when he’s with friends he’d say stuff like ‘yo, where is my girl?’. and others would also refer to you as ‘his girl’. at one point you just got the nickname ‘slim’s girl’ or ‘shady’s girl’ depending on which you prefer
tries to keep you away from hollywood and only goes for recordings, shows etc. when he’s done you both leave for detroit to lead a somewhat quiet life
definitely will buy you a lot of gifts. sometimes expensive or cheap; something that reminds him of you or something he knows you want. he just feels like showering you with gifts. his love language is giving gifts or acts of service. he will watch your favourite show just because you like it
em will always thank you in his speeches!! something along the lines of ‘first of all thank you to dr. dre and my two beautiful girls who i love with my entire heart. you two are my world, i love you!’
but like you don’t understand he will always thank you. he could win a life time supply of soap and he would say your name with pride…he’s just so grateful to have you and to be able to call you family
would hold your bag/bags for you. marshall gives you princess treatment without realising bc he genuinely wants to do it. he will snatch those bags out of your hands before you can protest
when other artists or people take your name or your daughter’s name into their mouths with negative connotations you best believe em will rip them apart, so most people will never attack you or romy bc it’s a death sentence
people can call him lame, bad rapper, ugly, whatever they feel like but as soon as anyone mentions a hair on you or romy’s bodies…it’s over. careers are shredded…you love it though
if you are a girl who likes to get her nails done this is for you; at first you started asking him to choose a design and colour and at first he was confused but he learned to love it especially when you scratched his head or your hands around his yknow what…he even once tried to design some and you got it done
the sex is a mix of mildy rough and vanilla. sometimes you both need something a little more “agressive” but he also needs a calm session. i see it kind as a light switch: it’s either rough or vanilla, occasionally you mix it but it turns out one way or another
also the man is a sucker (pun) for head. like he loves your mouth on him. i genuinely believes it’s in his top 2 favourite sexual activities (don’t deny it i’m right)
extra: if you love marshall right and you two work, it will be both of yours best love, but if things don’t work they can quickly turn into a relationship from hell
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rapunzelbro · 1 month
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The Act of Stealing a Loved One |1| (Stanley Pines x Reader)
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This is a beginning of a prompt I wrote. Please don't expect chapters quickly. Enjoy!
Story guide
Being the wife of a man who went missing was hard. Many told you it was time to move on, many told you he was dead, and hell maybe you should just move on. But if they knew what happened that night, what actually happened to the man you loved, they would know why you couldn't exactly give up hope. You told him to shut it down, to stop what he was doing, hell Stan even did, but none of that would matter.
When he got trapped in the portal, it was the day you shut yourself out from everyone, you moved back to the small town home you two had bought before moving to Gravity Falls, you couldn’t take living in the house he went missing in. Stan kept living in his brothers’ home, turning it into some ‘Mystery Shack’ tourist attraction after a few weeks, which you wanted no part of. And after that, it was just radio silence. You didn’t hear anything from Stanley, nothing about your husband, it was just silence.
10 years went by. You still had hope that he was going to walk in that door and embrace you, telling you about the crazy things he saw while he was away, promising to never leave your side. It was now August 1992. He was smart, he knew about this sort of thing, so he was going to be back in your small home in New Jersey any minute now. That was going to happen… Right?
Another 10 years went by. You were grasping at straws trying to keep the memories you had with him in your mind. It was February 2002. The ring on your finger was a reminder of the love you two had, your hope was beginning to slip away. You stared down at your phone. Some weird new portable phone you finally decided on getting after debating. You should call Stan…
You never ended up calling him.
10 years later you had a car packed, a for sale sign was up in your town home you once lived in. It was now June 2012. Your wedding ring was no longer on your finger, you put it back in its box years ago. He wasn’t coming back, it's been 29 years. You were headed back to Gravity Falls, Oregon. To say you were nervous would be an understatement, you didn't know what to think. How would Stan react?
Shit. Stan. You had to call him.
After starting your car, you scroll through your contacts before landing on your brother-in-law, Stan Pines. The contact photo was an old photo of him from your wedding, he was being chased around by some smaller kids who were there tormenting him, thinking it was hilarious, you obviously had the photographer take a photo of it. Looking back on it gave you hope that he was willing to forgive your absence. You dialed his number before you started driving, praying he hasn’t changed it after all these years.
It was on its final ring before someone finally answered “.. kids don't do anything stupid! Ugh…Hello?” he sounded the same as you remember, almost identical to your Stanford. “Hello? If this is some telemarketer im not interested” he said again, you realized you did say anything “Hi! Uh Hi sorry. Stan.. Is that really you?” you heard him spit his water out before coughing, then clearing his throat “Y/n.. it’s you. Um, geez sorry not good at this, why are you calling me? It's been 29 years..” He sounded off put by you calling him. “I’m heading back to Gravity Falls Stan, I was hoping I could see you? Unless you don't want to then-” “Quit rambling.. You're sure you want to see me after all these years? I did uh, take over your old home” Stan muttered into the phone “That wasn’t my home Stan, and yes I'm sure. I'm driving so it'll be a couple days until I arrive. I have a place already so don't worry” You sigh slightly
“Grunkle Stan who are you talking to! Is it a girl?” you can hear a younger girl on the other side of the line, you must be on speaker. “Who’s that?” you ponder “It's no one” Stan quickly replies, hearing the girl gasp “Y/n Pines?! Grunkle Stan! You’re married?! DIPPER YOU’RE NEVER GOING TO BELIEVE THIS” She had to have seen the caller ID. Guess he just added you as a contact “Mabel you get back here! Shit, Y/n I gotta go, I’ll get it sorted out. I can’t wait to see you” Stan grumbles before hanging up. You slightly smile at the interaction.
You marrying Stanley? Hard pass.
Taglist: @cherryblom @leo4242564
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mustainegf · 3 months
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hii
can you write something about 1992 kirk falling in love with a photographer that was hired for the band's tour? I love your writing and know you're gonna do something great even with a simple request
AWWW THIS IS SO ADORABLE, Kirk is such a head over heels romantic
Decided to do these as headcannons!!! Hope that’s okay!
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𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒 ¹⁹⁹²
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𝟏- kirk looks at you sweetly, almost shyly, during the tour. Admiring your focus and patience to capture the shots. The way your face screws up just slightly can help but bring a smile to his face.
𝟐- He "accidentally" bumps into you backstage, speaking with nervous gestures, his hands waving in the air as he rambles.
𝟑- Whenever he's around you, he tends to laugh nervously and fidgets with his rings or guitar pick, one time actually snapping his pick in two from how nervous he was
𝟒- He constantly gets himself in a position to compliment all of your photos, even if it is as minute as, "That shot you took yesterday, that was really cool”
𝟓- He talks much about his guitar playing, wanting to impress you in any way he can, almost wanting you to think he’s cool like a popular kid in school.
𝟔- He mentions his collection of horror comics, and then, blushing like a teenager, offers to show you the best ones if you're interested.
𝟕- Small, sweet gestures, to bring you coffee, to offer you his jacket when it's cold. One time he cracked a window in the tour bus just so he could offer you his sweater.
𝟖- It's as if he makes extra efforts to see that you are happy, peppering you with his quirky sense of humor, and each time he succeeds in making you smile, it’s like a small trophy for him.
𝟗- Over time, inside jokes between the two of you will evolve, (god is he happy about that) and he will keep them very close to his heart, refusing to let anyone in on it.
𝟏𝟎- He's inquisitive about the kind of music you like so he knows what to learn to impress you.
𝟏𝟏- Kirk’s interested in your photography and always asks about it, just wanting to hear you talk about what you love
𝟏𝟐- He flirts with you in his own geeky, dorky, inconspicuous way, sometimes asks, jokingly, if he'd look good in certain lights.
𝟏𝟑- He plays complicated, more heartfelt type guitar solos during soundchecks, looking over to make sure you're watching.
𝟏𝟒- He gives you small little gifts pertaining to your interests, a really rare camera lens or some old comic book from the horror series you mentioned you loved. (It’s from his collection. He figured he was willing to part with it to make you happy)
𝟏𝟓- During some of the gigs, he remarks that this solo or song is for you, and obviously, nobody knows that it is actually is dedicated to you, not even the guys know he wrote it late at night, when you were all he could think about.
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musiclover84898 · 28 days
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As you know i’ve been on a tad fiona apple high so im thinking perhaps the reader is the kinda artist that fiona is and she’s preforming in a quiet club. James comes with Kirk (per kirk’s request) and James is really struck by her sorta and ends up trying to talk to her before she leaves so they just talk for a bit and it’s mostly fluff with a few 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 remarks
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This is so creative I love it !!! James in a cowboy hat does something to me…I based the title off of one of Fiona’s albums because I didn’t know what to call it lmao. Thank you for your request! 😽
Warnings: Mostly fluff, somewhat-sexual/suggestive remarks. This takes place in 1992
Word count: 1,346
Tidal - James Hetfield
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Friday nights were always the busiest, from what I've observed. So any different people would usher themselves inside the small club, sitting at the circular tables or the bar with a glass of wine in hand, chatting and laughing as I performed my songs. It filled me with a sense of pride as I watched the people cheer and applaud for me, a clear sign that they enjoyed my work. I loved what I did, and it felt good knowing that others did, too.
I started my show like normal, the soft, melodic sound of the piano filling out the underground room. My fingers grasped onto the microphone as I began to sing, the lyrics streaming from my lips as the song progressed on. I liked to believe that I was one of those artists who really felt the music they sang and wrote, not the ones who just listened to it. As I continued with the show, it felt like I was the only one in the room; like I was preforming to an empty expanse. I sang better that way, I thought. Slower, more heartfelt songs began to play, hinting at the end of my set.
The door to the club swung open quietly, two men walking in and taking a seat at the bar. I curiously glanced over at them as I sang, my eyes lingering on the taller of the two. He had blue eyes and long, shaggy blonde hair. He was also wearing a cowboy hat, which I thought was quite interesting. We made eye contact; for a moment, it felt like I was singing to him. My stomach jumbled into a knot as we continued to stare at each other, the tension between us growing. Without even thinking, I looked away towards the rest of the crowd to finish out the song. I had to find him after my set, and figure out who the hell he was and what he was doing here at my show..
༄༄༄
I was sitting near the bar, a drink in hand as I gazed at my shoes. The show was a success, per usual; I had received praise from nearly half the bar; their cheering and applause still echoed in my ears. The sound of clinking ice against the glass sent me back to the present moment, revealing the man from before standing right in front of me. My eyebrows raised abruptly, earning a dark, husky chuckle from him.
“You did an amazing job up there, rockstar. I’m impressed,” he said as he took a seat on the barstool next to mine. I bashfully smiled, waving my hand as if I was dismissing his compliments. Nervous butterflies were fluttering in my chest and stomach; why was I getting so damn jittery around him? I took a hearty sip of my drink before settling it back down onto the bar.
“Thank you. I saw you earlier while I was on stage, what’s your name?” I asked. I noticed his outfit and how casual it looked; boots, slightly ripped jeans, and a plain black shirt with the sleeved rolled up to his forearms. Not the attire for a place like a jazz club, I thought. I noticed him take a sip of beer from a tall glass before answering me. He had a horseshoe mustache. It kind of looked like one of the ones you’d see in an old Western film. It made me want to laugh.
“James. James Hetfield,” he began, wiping the corners of his mouth with the back of his big hand. “You’re absolutely beautiful.” His words hung in the air for a long while, allowing me to absorb his low voice and his piercing, ice-blue stare. His name sounded familiar; extremely familiar, actually, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Maybe it was because of the strong liquor I had been drinking for the past fifteen minutes.
“Thank you, Mr. Hetfield.” I joked, lightly jabbing him in the arm with a small fist. He laughed deeply, showing off his white teeth. He certainly was very charming, from his words all the way down to the way he carried himself in general. I felt extremely attracted to him already, even though we’d met just under ten minutes ago. We continued to talk with each other about random things like music, and how we both had a hobby of playing guitar. To me, it sounded like he was extremely passionate and serious about it. It was interesting to listen to him explain how he started playing in the first place. After a few more drinks, it was clear we both felt a bit tipsy.
“I bet a lot of men come up to you, huh? You’re really fuckin’ pretty.” He hiccuped, placing a wobbly hand on my thigh for leverage. His blonde hair looked tousled and messy, which somehow suited him even more. His hat was resting next to his nth glass of beer, which was already half full.
I blush as red as a beet, and mutter a “Thank you” under my breath. He must’ve noticed how embarrassed and flushed I looked, because his lopsided smirk grew wider.
“You’re very welcome, baby. How about we come back to my place, hmm? I could show you a real good time, little lady.” His voice sounded a lot more hoarse and raw than before, a clear sign that the alcohol was affecting his behavior. My heart began to thump loudly in my chest, beating so fast I thought it would burst. The hand on my thigh began to travel closer to the hem of my skirt, toying with the black fabric. I sucked in a breath, my teeth chewing down on my bottom lip.
“I really shouldn’t. We’re both shitfaced,” I laughed softly, placing my hand on top of his own. They felt cold, but it was a pleasant feeling. The atmosphere of the room was hot and stuffy all of a sudden; what the fuck was happening? I rubbed my temples with my index and middle fingers, trying to relieve some of the tension in my head.
“And besides, it’s late. I should be packing up my equipment right now.” I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. I wanted to say yes so damn badly, but I just met this guy. I couldn’t just saunter back to his apartment and sleep with him! I wasn’t that stupid.
“So? You’ve never fucked anyone when you’ve been a little tipsy, sweet thing? It’s a lot of fun,” he taunted in a sing-song tone of voice. “But, if you say so, I won’t keep askin’ you,” he squeezed my thigh before letting it go, taking a final sip of his beer. He leaned down, placing a lingering kiss to my cheekbone. I could smell the alcohol on his lips and the faded cologne on his shirt; the unfamiliar-yet-intoxicating scent made my heart race even more than it already was. I quickly scanned him up and down before peering back up into his half-lidded eyes.
“I’ll be seeing you around, sweetheart. You take care of yourself in the meantime, alright?” He told me, tossing on his cowboy hat and making his way through the large room and out the door. As he left, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had seen him before, and how familiar his name sounded. As I slowly refocused on my environment, I could hear people whispering and chatting with each other about the man who had just given me a kiss on the cheek.
“Holy shit, James from fucking Metallica was just in here!”
“Man, I should’ve asked for his autograph. I feel like such an idiot now. Did you see that woman he was talking with?!”
My eyes widened as I instinctively reached for my glass of liquor. I rose the rim to my lips, letting the bitter-tasting liquid fall onto my tongue. A member of Metallica had just chatted me up tonight. I felt a small smile curling onto my lips.
So that’s where I knew him from.
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A.N: I finished this at like 3 am so I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes! This is the last fic I will post before I go into inactivity for a little while. Requests will be closed until I adjust to school and overall just get my life organized lmao. I’ll make a post announcing when they’ll be open again eventually. I hope you all enjoyed reading this!, thank you my love @marchymango for requesting it 🤍 Much love xoxo
© musiclover84898
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kannra21 · 10 months
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Bc I "love" (lol) Gege so much, I gathered some info on him. Pls DM me to add more if you remember anything
Pen name: Akutami Gege (芥見下々)
Birthday: 26th February 1992 (31yo)
Zodiac: Pisces
Born: Iwate Prefecture, Japan
he went to all boy's private school
Akutami has an older brother who's married. Yuji is strongly inspired by his brother who is Akutami's opposite. He is someone who succeeds in everything he undertakes: sports, studies etc.
he was never really interested in drawing or manga until 4th grade when his older brother bought Weekly Shōnen Jump. The Jump that he read had Bleach on it and that's how Akutami's love for Bleach developed. When he was in the 5th grade and moved from Iwate Prefecture to Sendai in Miyagi Prefecture, he was surprised to see that the kids at his new school drew manga
he started drawing manga by imitating his friends' work
so his Bleach obsession started in elementary school and his Evangelion and Hunter x Hunter obsession started in middle school
he wrote a poetry analogy called "Giant From The Clouds" in middle school, inspired by the Bleach mangaka
His previous works are Kamishiro Sōsa, No.9, Nikai Bongai Barabarjura and jjk 0
Yuji was named after his childhood classmate
Geto was named after the "Geto Korean Ski Resort", located near Akutami's hometown of Tohoku
he's slightly colorblind
he's a fan of occult, mystical practices and horror
he wears glasses
he cooks somewhat
he loves hot springs and scalp massages, he goes to dermatologist to maintain healthy skin
he exercises and he's trying to get in shape despite the busy schedule, workout is not as painful as it is boring
he's very grateful for his chiropractor bc of his stiff neck, he said that if he ever time-travels and meets his younger self he's gonna tell him "get in shape, seriously", he craves afternoon naps but tries to resist by eating sweets like Pikmin gummies (why's he so contradictory haha)
when Nakamura first debuted with the jjk cast and got to meet Gege, he was surprised by how young he looked. He also said that Gege has a calming voice
hobbies: he reads a bunch of novels and watches a bunch of movies whenever he can, he's busy with work most of the time
his favorite food is crispy thai pandan chicken
his favorite onigiri flavor is mentaiko, he loves Umaibo snacks, Schau Essen, potatoes, hayashi rice, ramen and seedless grapes
He's usually not a fan of name brands but he likes Balenciaga. He also wants to support Royal Host restaurant
he likes comedy podcasts like Arabikidan group
the first manga he submitted to Jump was a gag manga
when he was a student he found studying boring but he likes doing research on things that actually interest him (like engineering facts he needed for the manga)
when he was an art student, he didn't really like making drawings where the model stayed for hours in a specific pose. He preferred to sketch in 3-4 minutes
he relies too much on sketches, rough drafts and his editors (he says he's like a dog for the editors)
he has a habit of forgetting how to draw his characters sometimes
he's self-deprecating and he's sorry that he sometimes makes people feel awkward by being overly critical of himself *hugs him*
he finds it difficult to write Yuji bc Yuji and Akutami are fairly different, Akutami doesn't consider himself particularly athletic but he can relate to Yuji for being an "airhead" sometimes and does things when people tell him not to
he thinks he's clumsy and fucks up honorifics sometimes, he talks casually with his editor Yamanaka whom he has a beef with till this day, he reminds him to "respect his elders" (he's so Gojo coded lol)
He's so funny asdfghjhgfd
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he's in good relationship with his parents, he respects them and they're very supportive of him
he cares about his mom's opinion on his manga
Toji's and Yuta's personalities are somewhat based on Akutami's dad, dad also reads the manga
according to Gege, jjk should've been a lot darker but editor didn't allow it
he's an otaku, he's a fan of Marvel, has Hunter x Hunter posters on the wall and enjoys Pokémon wii games, he collected Yu-Gi-Oh cards when he was younger, he's from the generation when Gintama was popular
He never felt hatred for Thanos from Avengers: Endgame (explains why he likes Sukuna so much lol)
his favorite Haikyuu character is Tendo and his favorite BNHA characters are Overhaul and Stain
he saw Brad Pitt in person wow
Idea for the pen name: Gege worked a part time job at the cleaners and learned what it's like to be humble in the world. "Gege" translates to a "person of lower status" or a "commoner"
he claims to be socially awkward with people he's not familiar with, he's not used to public speech but when he gets drunk he does a 180 and is blabbering a lot
people call him a genius with a great sense of humor, his editor Katayama says that he's a cheery and a cool person, much like Gojo
he bought a black mountain parka (like Gojo's) that's supposed to last for six years but he put it in storage after one week
he thought about dying his hair white (Gege stop with the Gojo cosplay)
he's a procrastinator, he's mentally preparing for hours to draw a manga chapter that would otherwise take him 30min. The truth is, he's getting tired of jjk and can't wait to finish it
he chose the cyclop cat avatar because drawing one eye is easier and no one hates cats
he said that he used to have a "type of girl" in high school but the more he grew up he realized that every woman is a good woman, he likes well-groomed women (although I think he likes girls with thick tights? he's a Hwasa fan)
he thinks that world can't be divided into black and white and that it's always a blur. Villains and heroes are treated the same because each of them have their own beliefs and ideologies that are valid
he isn't emotionally bound to any of his characters, he will kill whoever, as long as the story is interesting
he's deliberately not trying to sexualize his female characters, not just because of his parents, but also because he wants to leave a respectable impression. Mangaka profession is very looked down upon. He wants to change that
his net worth is somewhere around $12 million
he wants to stay anonymous bc he enjoys his commoner life, there's a certain freedom to being a normal person, he can go in public spaces without anyone recognizing his face. For instance: he secretly went watching the jjk 0 movie in theater along with the opening comments on the first day. A fan accidentally met him but he pretended to be a staff member
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mysticficti0n · 4 months
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It's been so long
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Hello my beauties, I was looking through my inbox and saw around like 9 people asking for a Phil Wenneck fic and I rewatched all 3 hangover films and this idea came to my head, my 500 follower special is still in the world as I want it to be perfect. I've wrote this in like 4 hours and only skimmed it so if there any spelling mistakes ignore them- love you 😘
warnings- 2009!Phil wenneck x y/n Y/l/n, (he's single and has no kid either), swearing, mentions of underage drinking, pet names, p!inv!, sub/readerxdom/Phil,
words- 7.9k
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"Dylan are you ready?" I called waiting next to the front door, swining my car keys around my finger "Dyl come on you're gonna make us late and mom will kill me if we are late!" I yelled losing my patients
"I'm here" he spoke coming down the stairs "why don't you just don't tell them we were late" I hummed actually taking in his idea
"good idea- well anyways come on" I answered getting into the car. I started the engine and began the short drive to his school, the roads were busy and that meant that was making us later and later
"god- when's your meeting?" I spoke turning to my little brother
"erm.. 5:45pm" he said after looking at a sheet of paper that he pulled from his pocket "and its now...5:45 Y/n"
"Shit-" I spat "oh sorry Dylan" he laughed as I slapped a hand over my mouth "well lets just hope this doesn't take much longer"
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finally after another 15 minutes we made it, hurriedly we walked into the school, Dylan had my hand pulling me through corridors until we made it to room 7L and he knocked on the wood "come in" a voice sounded and Dyl pushed the door open "ah Dylan, you're here!"
"Hello sir" my brother smiles going towards a small chair put out in front of a desk "this is my sister, Y/n" I followed behind him and placed my hand bag on the floor before turning to face the teacher
"hi, I'm so sorry that we're late the traffic was ter-"
"Y/n?" the mans voice cut me off "Y/n Y/l/n?" even in heals I wasn't as tall as him, so as my eyes met his face I knew who it was straight away
"Oh my god Phil- I can't believe it!" I laughed, I knew Phil all through school, from Pre-k to collage, and he hadn't changed a bit since we had left, chiseled jaw, sun kissed skin, his brown short hair flowing effortlessly around his face and a smile that was always imprinted on his lips "you haven't changed a bit Wenneck" I spoke as we pulled from a hug
"Neither have you Y/n- you look great- erm please take a seat" he grinned as he took a seat behind his own desk "woah- well Dylan it's great to see you for the second time, and also you Y/n, great to see you again too"
"how do you two know each other?" My brother inquired giving me a confused look
"Me and Mr Wenneck went to school together, well we basically grew up together, he was one of my best friends" I answered shooting the man a smile, Dylan nodded getting a grin across his face
"okay well- lets look at everything shall we?" Phil pulled open a folder and his finger traced down the page and then tapped "here, so Dylan by the looks of things you are doing amazing in all classes with b+'s and some A's which is great for a boy your age..which is 9 but 10 In a few weeks if I'm right?" Dylan excitedly nodded, a cheesy smile coming across his lips, my hand patted his shoulder seeing his smile grow bigger "and your behaviour... no detentions, or warnings this year little man, much better then when your sister was in school" he joked
"excuse me- you were a lot worse then me, remember what you did to Jake that day?" I asked raising my eyebrow
"he had that coming, but I wont say much more, need to professional" I shook my head laughing at him as we both remembered the day in high school-
_____ 12th grade (1992) _____
Me, Sasha, Lauren, Stu, Phil and Doug sat in the bleachers laughing about whatever random things we could think off "and what about that time Lauren fell over the curb when we went to that party?" Stu laughed getting a slap from the red head
"I was drunk okay- and like 15 so that doesn't matter" she angrily spoke trying to stop the smile from going on her lips. the six of us kept talking while we sipped on our drinks we brought from the lunch hall. Soon the break was over and we all went to head back in, I stood up, straightened my skirt around my legs and fixed my top around my shoulders, and grabbed my bag from the seat in front of me
"Nice rack Y/l/n!" I herd a voice call from the bottom of the steps, I stood straight back up covering my front with my hand and my eyes immediately locked with those of Jake Casey "its alright babe don't need to hide them from me- oh and nice panties too girls, down there had a great view- didn't it boys" he joyed blowing me a kiss as the three guys around him shared a laugh
I quickly stopped down the steps, coming face to face with the creep "what did you just say?" my voice was low as I got into his face, his friends oh'ed; clapping there hands
"I said-" Before he could even finish his sentence my hand slapped across his face "Ow! what the fuck is wrong with you!" I went to walk away until the feeling of his hand fixed on mine "don't you walk away now bitch" he seethed, his other hand wrapped around my waist pulling me onto his body
"Let go of me you perv" I yelled, desperately trying to free myself, but in an instant, Jake lay helpless on the ground, his grip on me replaced by Phil looming over him like a dark storm. Soon Phil's fists crashed into Jake's body relentlessly, each punch harder then the last, and those three friends from before were not to be seen as the dashed across the field to get away from Phil who wasn't stopping his beating
"don't- you- ever- fucking- do- that- again" he warned as he hit the boy again
"OKAY, OKAY, I'M SORRY!" A shattered voice pleaded, but the brunette remained unrelenting. "PLEASE, GET OFF!" we all watched as Stu and Doug forcibly tore Wenneck away from the now bloodied and battered man. quickly Jake pulled himself up whipping around and running off to join his group who were half way across the track. Phil backed off, dusting himself from the dirt that lay on his jeans and fixed his sun glasses to begin back on his head
"Thanks Phil," we said in unison as we approached, the two girls going to stand with Stu and Doug as they talked about what had just happened. "You okay?" I asked, brushing his arm where he had a faint red mark.
"I'm fine. How about you?" he replied, his concern evident. I nodded, showing him the small mark on my wrist. "Does it hurt?"
"No, I'm okay... Thanks for stepping in again," I said again, I got the feeling like it was just the two of us in that moment, drawing closer, Phil's hand landing softly on my waist the warmth overpowering the heat from the Los Angeles sun. "I—" I started, but Stu interrupted with his usual humour.
"Come on, you two! We'll be late if you start a love story now after all these years!" he joked, pointing at us "flirt after class is done" I couldn't help the red from painting my face as the whole group fell into a laugh
"Shut up, Price," Phil said, rolling his eyes as he put his arm around my shoulders instead of my waist, pulling me closer in a simple yet meaningful gesture.
_____ end of flashback _____
"and Dylan- how are you finding school?" Phil asked, grabbing a pen off his desk looking back to him with a warm smile
"good- I have lots of friends and a girlfriend!," Phil oh'd looking to me as a we laughed " and I like my lessons, and I'm in the soccer team!" he talked "and the homework is okay, Y/n helps me a lot because she's smart"
"stop it" I laughed scruffing the young boys fluffy hair
"well that sounds good then, I have some of your books here for you Y/n if you want to have a look through and also his end of year report" I grabbed the small pile of books from the mans hand and began looking through while listening to the two talk about soccer and things, I looked to the page with the title 'my family' and saw a family tree scribbled with crayons and our faces drawn in: Mom, Dad, me, him, Grandma, Papa, our cousins and aunties and uncles too.
"Dylie your work is really good!, especially your family tree, you've got everyone!" I cheered. After I finished looking through all the pages I set them back on the desk and Phil finished up his convocation with Dylan
"is there any questions you have Y/n?" He asked looking to me, his face warm
"I don't think so, I mean he's doing great and thats all I can really ask for, he seems to have a good teacher too" I spoke seeing Phil smirk at me shaking his head
"great, that ends this then- Dylan, Y/n thank you for coming to see me and I'll see you on Monday little guy, and don't forget the trip money" Phil stuck his hand out to my brother who's little hand shook it back and I watched as the blonde waved walking to the door
"Y/n! Sam's out there can I go say hi?" he asked excitedly looking to his friend out side the window
"sure" I replied seeing him hurriedly open the door, he shouted a quick good bye to 'Mr Wenneck' and quickly left us behind in the class room "again sorry for being late Phil- just everywhere seemed to be busy" I laughed grabbing my bag from the floor and placing it on my shoulder then getting Dylans report off the table
"its fine don't worry- you two were my last appointment anyways, and as its you I don't mind either" he smiled coming round the front of his desk and leaning against it "but honestly Dylan is a great kid, I don't even like teaching but kids like him make it worth it you know" I nodded listening to him
"I never thought you be a teacher you know, I mean you hated school" he laughed rubbing the bridge of his nose
"Yeah I know but life happened" he said looking back to me "erm well I was wondering- do you wanna go out for dinner tomorrow?" I was a little taken back, in a good way though "it's fine if not, but we could have an actual catch up you know? I mean I haven't seen you since we were 20 ish and were now old "
"thank you very much for reminding me- but yeah what time?" I agreed, I watched as a smile spread along is face
"I'll come pick you up at 8?" I nodded "cool well erm- I'll see you tomorrow Y/n" he stood up leading me to the door, before I left I pulled him into another hug
"see you tomorrow" I whispered before letting go and walking out to grab Dylan who was happily chatting to his friend and his mom "hi Carol" I waved
"hey sweetie, how'd it go?" she asked
"good, Dylans doing really good- how's sam doing?" she shook her head and her smile dropped "oh"
"I got told he beat up another kid the other day- I don't know what to do, I mean when Charlie was younger he was nothing like this, and I remember when you were little and your little friends, you guys were never in fights- well not when you were 9! but Sam always is" her voice was full of anger
"mh, It's very odd- must be something triggering him" I spoke
"maybe I'll take him to see your mom when she's back, she's a therapist so maybe she can get to the bottom of it" Carol laughed "aways we must get off- Samual come on" the two boys said their goodbye and we walked out
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"Night Dyl" I whispered leaving his room, I walked down the stairs to the living room, falling onto the couch and flipping on the tv to a random channel, I couldn't get over that Phil was teaching my little brother, my old best friend teaching my brother... life was weird. It reminded me, I needed to get someone to Have Dylan over the weekend, I knew he would enjoy staying at our grandparents so I picked up my phone and began calling my Grandma
"hello Rosie" she answered
"hi Grandma, how're you?"
"good poppet, is everything okay?"
"yes thank you, I was just wondering if it was okay if you had Dylan tomorrow night please? I met up with an old friend, well actually do you remember Phil?"
"Oh yes Phil Wenneck, of course how could I forget Philly! he was always with Doug, Stu, you, Sasha and Lauren wasn't he" I hummed agreeing
"well I found out he's Dyls teacher! and were going out for a catch up tomorrow night"
"aw thats lovely, of course we can have Dylie, Sofia and Ryan are sleeping tomorrow so its no issue"
"thank you so much, I'll bring him at about 5:30 if thats okay"
"yep thats fine, see you tomorrow lovie"
"night, love you" I came off the phone and saw a dot on my messages, I clicked on seeing -Phil- 1 new message-
'Hey Y/n, just checking (and I hope this isn't weird) are you at your moms house, just I know you're watching Dylan for the two weeks, he was telling me x'
'Hi Phil, yeah I'm here, and bless him I had a feeling he'd be telling everyone, he was saying we were gonna throw a party and everything x' I answered
'I mean if they were anything like your parties, I'm coming x' I laughed
'yeah gonna sing bah bah black sheep with the kids? x'
'of course, it's my favourite song x' I rolled my eyes
'I bet- see you tomorrow Wenneck x'
'night x'
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"thank you so much again for having him Grandma, papa" I crouched down pulling my brother into a hug "I'll come get you tomorrow, go have fun and I'll call after okay, before bed" he nodded hugging me back then running to play with our little cousins "see you later" I hugged my grandparents then quickly drove back home to shower and get ready for seeing Phil.
I decided on a black dress, it wasn't to much, just around my thighs, some black heals, smokey dark make up and a dark red lip, my hair straightened down my back and some silver jewellery. I sprayed L’Interdit Rouge and grabbed my bag and threw it over my shoulder
I went into my kitchen, hurriedly pouring myself a glass of water and chugging the glass trying to suppress the anxiousness I felt rising in my stomach. The sound of the door bell rang through the hall and into the kitchen, I took one more deep breath before walking and opening up the door. I pushed the handle down and pulled the door open
"Hi Phil" I sounded as my eyes met him, he was dressed in a black suit which blended into the night perfectly, it fit his figure amazingly, hugging his muscles in all he right ways, his button up was only done up to the third one and the last two were left open showing of his toned chest, my eyes reached his face, his hair messed graciously behind his head and his sun glasses perched on his head "you look amazing" I spoke not realising I had been staring doe eyed for what felt like a life time
"I could say them same- look at you" he smiled "oh I brought you these" from behind his back he pulled out a bunch of roses, blood red- my favourites
"Phil! you didn't have too- these are beautiful!" I giggled like a child being given a lollipop
"almost as beautiful as you" I herd him chirp, my gaze snapped back to him
"careful" I laughed "come in, I'll grab a vase for these" I walked away hearing him follow behind after shutting the door
"god this place hasn't changed at all- holy shit I feel 17 again" he breathed coming into the kitchen "Its the place I first took a shot how about that" he reminisced
"yeah mom kept basically everything the same though she was going to change it all, then Dylan was born in 2000 and then she just kept it this way" he hummed leaning agains the kitchen counter
"how come your mom had Dylan- is that a weird thing to ask?...I- you don't have to answer that" he awkwardly laughed
"oh well Mom and Dad divorced erm 97' as you know, and mom got with this guy called Michel and then accidentally got pregnant, and we didn't know if he would make it because obviously mom was a lot older then most women who have children but they both made it and Dyls 10 soon" I explained
"oh wow, your moms a strong lady so I get why she made it through, I think thats why I was really shocked to see you yesterday because his name isn't Y/n/l Its Lee"
"yeah, I mean I didn't even know you were his teacher because he only ever called you Mr W or Sir" I spoke "and mom wouldn't have actually met you because this was his first parent teacher thing huh"
"yeah, anyways not that this isn't great we need to get going" he spoke checking his watch "so if you please" I walked towards the man and linked my arm with his as he led us out the house. Phil pulled open the passenger door for me and I gently settled myself into the leather seat, I watches as he went over to his side and slid in "ready?"
"Mhm" I smiled as we began our drive
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The car stopped at a restaurant with the name 'Le Rouge', The two of us stepped out the car and immediately my arm hooked on his "wow this looks- beautiful" I breathed. The door was opened by a tall man who shot us a quick smile as we stepped through the threshold. To say I was taken back was an understatement, a soft, red glow washes over the space, enveloping it in an aura of intimacy. The dim lighting, like flickering candlelight, shone a warm hue. The décor, a careful balance of simplicity and refinement, features rich dark wood accents and sumptuous red velvet curtains that drape gracefully, adding to the sultry, moody ambiance.
"Good evening Sir, Madam- how may I help?" a sweet looking girl cooed, her hands quickly grabbing a paper that lay in front of her
"hi, I have a booking should be under the name Wenneck" the girl nodded checking down the paper until her eyes seemed to find the name
"okay- if you two would like to follow me" the blonde began trotting through the many tables full of customers until she stood next to a small dark wood table for two, one candle and flower sat as the centre piece and two menus lay in our places "Erin will be your waitress tonight, and she'll be over soon to take your orders but would you like to get started on drinks?" Phil looked over to me giving me a quick nod telling me to go first, hastily I lifted the drinks menu from the side and scanned the paper
"I'll have a....Cabernet Sauvignon please" I answered seeing her write it down quickly, I turned to look back to the man sat across from me who's eyes flickered down the same menu as me
"make that a bottle and two glasses please" soon the girl disappeared with our orders "so what do you think?" Phil asked, his gaze landing back on me
"you've out done yourself Wenneck, it's gorgeous in here- I bet this place is really expensive though so I can pay-" before I could even finish the brunette chirped rolling his blue eyes at me
"shut up- I asked you out. I pay. let me treat you, I haven't seen you in years so this is the least I can do for making up for the fact that you haven't seen my face in so long" he smirked fluttering his eyes
"oh yeah of course" I laughed pulling my chair in closer "so, how have you been since I last saw you, and I don't mean from just yesterday" I gave a warning look hearing him titter
"well, we all left school I was going to work with dad in the car place but we got into this huge argument and he said I was choosing the 'easy way out' so I proved him wrong and became a teacher, then I got a job at Dylans school in 2007, been working there since, but erm I was with this girl after we left school- her name was Shannon but erm she cheated on me and I haven't actually been with anyone in god 6 years this year" the man sadly laughed "but you know I'm doing okay, I have a home and a job so thats all that matters" without really thinking about it my hand reached across the table taking his softy, I watched as his sad smile got replaced with a warm one, his eyes growing softer "what about you, what have I missed?"
"ah well- we left school obviously and I started working for a few people as a PA, worked on a few sets during like 2004 and 5, but it wasn't really enough money so changed and stared working at this bank place 2 years ago. I can't say I love it but I bought an apartment West Hollywood but I've taken the next 2 weeks of to watch Dylan but I'm looking for a new job again, hopefully back on the PA thing because I enjoyed that" he nodded, listening to every word "I was also with a guy, Jackson for a good few years but we broke up on my birthday actually, he said he was bored and needed a 'new spark' so I guess I wasn't that interesting to him" I chuckled, I looked down to my one intwined hand, the feeling of Phil's soft padded thumb swiped on my skin
"who needs those people though, I don't doubt that one day a good guy will see you and think 'damn, she's beautiful, talented, interesting, funny, beautiful'"
"you said that twice" I spoke in almost a whisper
"Its because I mean it" I felt my face heat up a ferocious red colour, before I could say anything else a wine bucket was placed onto our table and two glasses placed with it "ah thank you" Phil spoke with a smile, our hands broke away leaving mine cold. "do you want some?" the blue eyed man spoke, his voice filling my ears bringing me back to reality, I hummed holding my glass to him, the work popped and soon the red liquid began to flow into the glass until it nearly reached the rim, he filled his own then steadily placed the bottle back on the ice "to old friendships" his hand clenched around the neck of the glass, lifting it up
"to old friendships" I cheered, I let the wine cool my throat, taking all the red blush away with it, I could still feel the pricing blue gaze watching me over the table, not in a menacing way- but a adoring one. I tuned my attention back to Phil whose eyes fixed to mine "what are you going to have?" I asked seeing him look to his menu
"stake maybe, or lamb- you?" I checked down the list, until my eyes found my favourite "let me guess- filet mignon?" I nodded, a grin spreading on my lips "still know you well then"
"well I mean its been a good few years Wenneck- you sure?" I pondered, chewing my lip "do you really know me?" my voice lowered, and I couldn't help but watch his expression falter from being confident to slowly becoming more soft
"whats changed about you- tell me love" hearing the nickname nearly knocked the breath from me, something about hearing It in his voice, from his face, on his tongue
"you'll have to find out yourself" I challenged, his stare narrow
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the meal was one not to be forgotten, and the bill was another thing I would also never forget "Phil stop it- split it with me, you can't pay $250!" I snapped trying to pull the bill from his grasp
"Y/n I am a grown man with my own money- fuck off let me do this- I'll be paying tonight" he demanded
"next time I pay" I sassed, shoving my card back into my pocket, I watched as his eyebrow lifted, questioning my words
"a next time huh?" he responded with a smirk, I shook my head staring away from his eyes as he paid the bill "come on gorgeous lets go" He was killing me- the nicknames, the watching, the smirk.. I felt like a teenager again... the first time I fell for the stupid boy
"watch it Wenneck" I quipped, he brushed me off by taking my hand and leading me from the building, it was a warm night, the sky still a ink blue but a darker colour than before
"wanna go see something?" Phil's voice broke through the silence "it's only down there" I followed his out stretched arm that pointed to a small cleaning in some trees, in my head I kept thinking of the negatives but in my heart, as cheesy as it sounded, I knew if I was Phil I would've been okay.
"okay" I agreed and soon we began moving toward the narrow entrance, he pushed some branches out the way with his free hand, his other still softly holding mine "where are you taking me?" I asked, a soft laughter leaving after I saw him look back with his signature smirk. Soon we stopped as we came to a opening
"welcome to the most cozy place" I looked round the mans figure to see a small pond littered with lily-pads, and pond grass, lit by the moons glow, it was very romantic and every girls dream place to sit after a night like ours
"Phil how do you find these places?" I questioned taking in the view, he gleamed shrugging off his jacket and laying it on the floor next to the water "careful it'll get dirty"
"Y/n it can be cleaned- just sit down" without wasting anymore time, I perched myself next to him on his jacket, our legs bumping as we relaxed into the floor. I stared out in front of me, watching the small movements off the trees as the wind blew past, and the ripples that bounced in the water "tonight has been so amazing Phil, thank you" I said sincerely, my look changing to face him "really" in this light he looked heavenly, his outline illuminated by the light cascading from the sky, his eyes shining into mine, it felt like it was just us again in the world, only me and only him
"Y/n, can I ask you something?," I hummed, slowly nodding my head because no words could leave from my lips "can I kiss you?" every good emotion began wizzing around my heart, butterflies flitted in my stomach and my brain turned hazy, none of it felt real
"please" I breathed, feeling his gentle touch as his hand caressed my cheek, drawing me closer to him. My heart raced as I wrapped my arms around his neck, surrendering to the warmth of his embrace. Slowly, I settled onto his lap as his other arm pulled me onto him, our bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. Our lips met in a tender kiss, igniting a spark that had been smoldering between us for years. A sweet hum escaped my lips, a melody of longing and relief, as the weight of unspoken words lifted from my shoulders..
Reluctantly we both pulled away, taking in each other movements, my lips curled into a smile which Phil quickly mirrored, his hands finding my hips as he sucked for a breath "god I've waited so long to kiss you Gorgeous" he muttered, the pads of his fingers drawing random shapes as he spoke "why did we wait so long?" he questioned
"Phil, kiss me again" My voice trembled slightly as our mouths met once more, a surge of desire mingling with passion, flooding my senses. In an instant, Phil shifted our positions, his form now looming above me, casting a shadow over us, swallowing us in darkness.
"Fuck, you look so pretty like this," his words pierced through the intensity of our kiss, but I couldn't bear to be apart from him for a moment longer. With urgency, my hands pulled him closer, silencing any further words with the press of our lips. His knee parted my legs as he leaned further into me, his wight laying on his arms that caged my head between them; his lips slipped from mine and began traveling down my jaw, to my neck, to my collar bone
"Umph Phil" I whined unexpectedly, my eyes fluttered open seeing the brunettes gaze shift to a darker, hungrier side, his lips began another assault on my skin, sucking and peppering me in little butterfly kisses as I tried to stop myself from making any noises that the outside world could hear.
Phil pulled away, smiling at the view of me, I copied his expression as my hand carefully tucked back a fallen piece of hair "you should let me take you out more often" he laughed softly, his hands found mine and pulled me up to meet him, my legs felt uneasy from the moment but I forced myself to stand although my head only met his chest, the hands that once lifted me began to drag up my side until the two cupped my jaw "you okay?"
"yeah... I think just still in shock, I don't think I've ever been kissed like that in my life" he hummed, a suggestive look painting his features "what?" I asked looking up to him
"I just think you look really hot right now," he spoke with a amused smile "like, really hot" Phil repeated, his head bent so our mouths were basically exchanging air "can I kiss you again- please" It sounded almost like a beg but how could I refuse?
"you don't need to ask" I replied as once again my arms tangled behind his head. Though this kiss felt different than the last ones: hungrier, more passionate, wanting, pleading for more. My one hand knotted into his hair pulling a handful of strands causing him to lift slightly from the kiss
"ugh- fuck Y/n, don't do this to me" his voice croaked in a moan "or I'll take you home right now" I felt a rush of excitement run through my veins hearing the words leave his mouth
"do it then" I commanded pulling away to stare into his blue eyes that seemed midnight black all of a sudden. In one swift movement Phil lifted his jacket off the floor and grabbed my hand leading me back out the wooded area and to his car, the lights flashed as we climbed in and in seconds the engine roared. I couldn't stop my face from heating up as I watched his knuckles whiten from their grip on the wheel as we turned out from the restaurant parking lot back to my house.
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His hand hadn't left my thigh the entire drive home, it drew small circles on my bare skin and I couldn't help but fall into the rhythm, I watched as we turned into my street and the car came to a abrupt stop on my drive way. We exited the car and rushed to the front door, I dragged my keys from my purse and slotted them into the lock and after a few tries the door swung open
I spun around to face Phil, my heart pounding with anticipation as my arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer. Through the doorway, our bodies collided, a rush of heat and longing coursing between us. My back met the wall, but the world around us faded as our kiss deepened, the intensity building with each passing moment.
Our shared desires spilled into the air, mingling with the soft sounds of our breath and the gentle rustle of clothing. In the haze of passion, we fought for control, our bodies moving as one in a dance of longing and need. As we finally broke away, gasping for air, our faces flushed with desire, I closed the door behind us, turning my back to the man that now stood behind me, softly I felt his hands creep around my sides, his breath climbing up my neck
"I need you gorgeous" he whispered, his lips brushing the lobe of my ear, without another thought I grabbed his palm and led him up the stairs. I felt like a teenager again, messing around with my crush for the first time. We made it to my room and I knocked the door open but soon my attention was torn away and all I could think of was Phil, Phil Wenneck who's hands were holding my body as his lips pushed against mine, Phil Wenneck who was laying me on my bed and holding himself above me. Phil Wenneck.
"Take this off me," I whispered, my gaze locked with his, my voice dripping with desire. As he obeyed, his fingers trailed down the small straps of my dress, exposing my chest to his hungry gaze. I felt a shiver of anticipation race down my spine as his touch ignited a fire within me.
His hands caressed my skin, teasingly light, sending sparks of pleasure dancing across my body. I watched in rapt fascination as he cupped each breast, his touch firm yet gentle, kneading them as if they were dough in his palms
With a soft groan, his lips left mine, blazing a trail of kisses down my body, each one sending waves of pleasure coursing through me. I arched my back, offering myself to him, my breath hitching as his mouth hovered tantalizingly close to my aching nipples.
As he took one between his teeth, a sharp gasp escaped my lips, pleasure and pain intertwining in a heady mix. "F-Fuck," I hissed, unable to contain the overwhelming sensation coursing through me.
"Like that, don't you?" Phil's voice was husky as he released me, his gaze smouldering with heat. I could only nod, my body trembling with need, words failing me in the face of such intense pleasure. He repeated his actions, each touch sending me spiraling further into ecstasy. His tongue traced delicate patterns on my skin, leaving me trembling again and again, his kisses a gentle reminder of the tender passion that consumed us both.
I began to feel the heat between my legs grow hotter as I watched him draw himself down my body, my dress slowly coming all the way off and pooling at my ankles leaving me in just my black thong "you look- just woah" he grinned, his hand petting mine
"you still have too much on" I flirted sitting myself on my knees in front of him, I let my hands trail up his front till I met the first button and I pushed it undone, then the next, then the next until his top was bare revealing his tanned torso, and tanned muscles that decorated his front. I pushed myself closer to the man, my lips pressing against his peck until I reached his collar bone, my tongue poked out from between my lips as I licked a line up his neck to his ear "I need you to take these off for me" I sighed
"do you?" he purred, standing from my bed his hands unfastened his buckle then popped the button letting the material fall to the floor leaving him In his boxers which outlined his boner leaving nothing to the imagination "gonna keep staring or come do something about it" he asked with a smirk
"not if you act like that" I answered slyly as I kneeled at the side of my bed in front of the man, his hand reached for my jaw propping my mouth open, dipping his thumb into the wet
"be a good girl and lay back for me, hm gorgeous" I pulled off his finger with a pop and lay myself down, my thighs parting to show him stood just in front of me, his palm stroked my heat, the friction sent waves through my body "so sensitive already" I hummed, trying not to grind myself against his flat hand. His fingers dipped behind the material and hooked the thong away, pulling them down my thighs then to the floor, softly his hands once again parted my legs, showing him my already went cunt "look at that" he praised
"please do something" I begged, in a matter of seconds I felt his fingers brush over my skin, a few digits pushing through my folds "agh- oh Phil" I whimpered at the touch
"god if you say my name like that again I'll cum right fucking here" I smiled looking up to the man who's finger began slipping down my wetness again "deep breath baby" he spoke. I sucked in a breath which was harder then anything I had ever done before then felt a finger push through the threshold, dipping into my cunt
"Angh" I cried as Phil began a agonisingly slow pace, the pad of his finger narrowly brushing my want "a-another- another please Phil- oh please" I pleaded
"already? such a good girl gorgeous" I nodded but soon my body was stuttering at the feeling of another digit sliding in
"Nagh- tha...nk you" I breathed, my hips moved involuntary at the pleasure- my eyes screwed shut, I hadn't got the power to force them to look at him, my voice was stuck in my throat as the knot in my stomach tightened "Phil-holy... I'm gonna-" before I could finish my own sentence I cut myself off "Ooh- fu....fuck fuck my god Phil" I called, my hands blindly reached for something to hold, trying to stable myself but I couldn't reach a thing
"you're okay- come on you're alright" he cooed, his free hand stroked my head as I slowly came down from my first high, my eyes finally opened and my first look was at Phil "there we go, hey gorgeous" he smiled
"hey" I greeted back, our lips connected again and I couldn't stop my fingers from going back to his hair, small pieces caught between each digit as I pulled him closer
"hmph- Y/n gentle with me" he joked breaking the kiss, I rolled my eyes turning my gaze away from his face to his body that sat above mine, I couldn't help but notice the tent in his boxers only looked larger. Slowly I lifted my leg letting the bulge sooth over my knee "agh.. mh you think your funny don't you?" he taunted
"no- I just really want you inside me Phil" I purred as both my hands held his face "please Phil" the man moved quicker than I have ever seen a man move before, his boxers were pulled away from his hips and down his legs revealing his length. My eyes widened- he was huge, no wonder girls in school jumped at the chance of a night with Phil, now I understand.
He knelt behind me, lightly pumping his cock before brining it up to my entrance "your safe word is Mexico okay- you say that and we stop" I murmured an 'okay' and he started to come closer, his warm tip stroked through my split "ready?" I hummed, steadily he pushed in, breaking through my entrance inch by inch before pulling out and repeating his action until he was fully sank into me "god baby you're so tight" he grumbled, I nodded not being able to speak because of feeling so full "want me to start moving now?" he spoke breaking the silence.
"mhm- slowly, you're so big" I welled watching a smirk plaster his face, Phil agonisingly pulled back until only his tip sat in me "Phil don't tease" I whined "need you to...fuck me so good" i was breathless already
"no problem gorgeous" he snarked before slamming his hips back and his full length pushing back inside me, I yelled at the force as he found a pace, our bodies hitting together in a rhythm only gods could create
"Oh Phil...Feels so good in me" I chattered, eyes fixated on him, I couldn't tare my gaze away as his shoulders tensed to keep himself up, a sheen of sweat building on his skin, his hair becoming unruly on his head as stray strands fell
"You feel so good around me- ugh fuck Y/n- such a good girl Y/n" hearing my name fall from his mouth only made me needier, it sounded so right
"fuck Phil- I feel so fucking good, shit- you fill me up so well Wenneck" I panted, my hands digging into his shoulders, nails scratching his skin
"fu-fuck you say it so well baby, I only wanna hear my name out your mouth" he moaned pressing open mouth kissed on my neck "I feel close- are..are you?" his voice trembled
"mhm- I was trying to hold off for you" I spoke, to brain numb to stop the truth, I could already feel his cock twitching inside me as he pounded my g-spot tirelessly
"cum with me- fuck baby" he hissed as I felt his thrusts get faster, our moans started to sync, I never thought I could fall for Phil, but seeing this side, hearing his voice, his moans, his venerability, I couldn't help the feeling "Y/n I need to come so bad" he begged
"shit- i...I- Oh my god" I hiccuped feeling the tie in my stomach rip apart and a swarm of warm blanketing me everywhere, then the sensation of my walls being painted with ropes of cum as the man above me faltered
"mgh- ah, holy fuck" he gulped, his head falling to my shoulder "I've never came that quick in my life" a small laugh escaped as he caught his breath while pulling out
"neither...Jesus Phil" I breathed, our eyes met again and we both had a new glow about us "you look pretty like this" I spoke brushing my fingers through his hair
"you've always been beautiful but right now," his lips tenderly met mine, the kiss was sweet and meaningful making the moment only better "Y/n can I say something?"
"yeah" I agreed, he shifted to be lay next to me, his palm sliding down to rest in the crook of my waist "what is it?"
"I really love you, I did all through school and, when we left I regretted not telling you but yesterday, seeing you and all, then today, I remembered how I felt," I blushed, hiding my face with my free hand "that was so cheesy but I don't even care anymore" he chuckled
"I really love you too Phil" our lips caught each others again, smiling into the make out, we pulled away letting our foreheads rest against each others "we waited so long"
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
My eyes fluttered open to my sun kissed room, the light stripping against my walls, I hummed letting my head nuzzle back into Phil's chest where I'd been lay since the early hours of the morning, my fingers drew up his stomach and scratching softly over his peck, I felt him stir at the touch, pulling small faces at the feeling "what are you doing" he yawned
"nothing" I hummed pressing a kiss to his skin "but it is time to wake up" he sighed rubbing his face with the hand that wasn't wrapped around my waist. Finally he opened his eyes and faced me, though I had already been watching for a while
"morning gorgeous" he sounded
"morning Phil" he pulled me close laying a kiss to the top of my head then propping his chin against my forehead "I've gotta get Dylan soon by the way" he hummed again, I could tell he was falling back to sleep, so quickly I sat myself up pulling the cover away from our bodies
"Y/n come on! five more minutes" he sneered "please baby" his voice begged as morning still lay thick on his voice
"no, come on Wenneck- I remember when we were kids you would say that then not move for another hour so up" I demanded taking his hand and pulling him from the bed. He rose up, towering above me
"you're mean" he commented as he loomed down on me
"but you told me you loved me last night" I played, my finger teasingly running down his front
"I do," he grinned leaning closer "but I also think you're mean" I rolled my eyes wondering away as he sat himself back on the bed falling back.
Quickly I got showered, washed my face and brushed my teeth and changed into jeans and a jumper in a few minutes, Phil on the other hand had just managed to brush his teeth and stick his shirt back on as he continuously groaned about being awake so early on a Sunday, though it was 11:30am
"okay well I need to go get Dyl now, he's got a soccer club to get to at 1 and I need to clean the house and things" I moaned, leaning my head against Phil, soothingly his hand ran down my back comforting me as he laughed
"why don't I stay and help? I have nothing better to do, and I can stay with you a bit longer, make dinner, be like another date" he asked, and I couldn't help but smile at his idea, having him around would make things better
"sounds perfect, now come on we've gotta go get Dyl"
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
My hand pushed the doorbell and soon enough the shuffling of slippers appeared on the other side "afternoon sunshine" my grandma beamed pulling me into a hug "and who's thi- Oh my lord, Phil Wenneck, look at you!" quickly she came out grabbing his face, inspecting all his changes "Philip aren't you so handsome!" she cooed
"thank you, you look lovely yourself, haven't changed a bit" he spoke as she stepped away laughing
"stop it you, anyways let me grab Dylan, he's been playing with the dog all morning- Dylan Y/n's here!" she called wandering back into the house
"Y/n!" a voice called as the noise of shoes tapped down the hall way and soon hands wrapped around me "you didn't call last night like you said!" he complained though still with a smile on his face
"I'm sorry, I got a bit busy last night Dyl" my gaze changed to Phil who was stood smiling at us
"Mr Wenneck?"
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sapphic-coded · 1 year
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I Swear That I Don't Have A Gun
You grew up in Ohio with your father, brother, and sister. Your family was small and strange. Because of that, you were picked on relentlessly at school. Until another weird kid showed up. Her family moved in across the street from you. It wasn't long until the two of you became friends. Your friendship became the light in your life. Until it ended suddenly. Rumors followed your friend's disappearance. Russian spies. You didn't see her again until you crossed paths at work.
Series Masterlist
Natasha Romanoff x fem Reader
Warnings: Lots of violence against wood. Reader is a messed up assassin and is proud of her work. So much childhood trauma just hanging out in the background. Reader dresses up like a lumberjack.
Word Count: 3.5k
Author's Note: Thank you so much for all the love you showed for the first chapter of this fic! All the likes, reblogs, and comments helped keep my muse alive as I wrote the second chapter. I hope you enjoy this chapter. If you want to be added to the tag list then let me know, and I'll add you when I post chapter three. Enjoy!
Taglist: @natsxwife @iliketozoneout @newawakening9 @natasha-1million @ilovemcuff
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Chapter Two: Flower In A Hailstorm
Mount Vernon, Ohio – 1992 
Your black backpack bounced lightly against your back as you followed a couple paces behind your brother and sister. The morning was bright and warm. The neighborhood was a quiet bustle of activity. Garages opening. Cars pulling out of driveways to begin another commute to work. Other kids trickled out of quiet homes on their way to school. 
When you had walked two blocks, your brother swung his navy blue backpack around until it hung off his shoulder in front of him. He unzipped his bag and looked at your older sister. His hand disappeared into his bag. 
“Do you think Sadie will go to the Homecoming dance with me?” he asked your sister.
Your sister shrugged. “Depends. Is she desperate?” 
“Ha ha. Very funny,” your brother said as your sister smirked. He pulled out a shiny, wrapped foil of pop tarts. “I’m serious. Do you know if anyone else has asked her?” He opened the foil and pulled out one pop tart. He turned and handed it out towards you. You smiled and hurried to catch up to them. You took the pop tart and immediately bit into it. The sweet taste of blueberry jam and hard surgery icing filled your mouth. 
Your brother pulled the second pop tart out of the foil, broke it in half, and handed one piece to your sister. 
She took her half. “How would I know?” She took a bite of her piece of pop tart. 
“Because you’re in the same History class,” your brother replied.
“That doesn’t mean I talk to her,” your sister said before taking another bite. 
You ate your blueberry pop tart while listening to your siblings talk about Sadie and the Homecoming dance. You didn’t chime in with any advice. You didn’t know who Sadie was. Most likely a girl in high school like your siblings. But it was fun to listen to them discuss the likelihood of your brother getting a date with this girl. By the time you reached your school, your sister had settled on the theory that Sadie would most likely agree to the date if every other boy in the school dropped dead. 
Your siblings wished you a successful day before you parted ways. You walked your usual route into your school and through the busy hallways. Clusters of students clung to the long, noisy hallways. Their stares were all too familiar. Strange looks. Hushed questions that weren’t so quiet that you couldn’t overhear. No kid dared to leave their pack of friends to go near you. Despite the plain, ordinary clothes you wore, you also wore the stories of your father. 
He was the random, misplaced red thread in a blanket of black. He stood opposed to the currents of the town. His beliefs were rooted securely in what many brushed aside as fantasies. He kept himself fairly busy within the confines of your home, but whenever fate drew him into the public an odd story would follow. One neighbor once saw your father out in a field, attempting to contact aliens. Another found him in their yard digging a hole to a secret bunker. There were countless stories, and they followed you wherever you went. You were his, and so, you must be strange too. It didn’t help that you rarely ever acted like the other kids. It was not intentional. If you could understand how to act like them, you would. But you didn’t. So every day you spent in this school, you spent it alone. Surrounded by strangers. Constantly feeling their judgmental stares digging into your back. Hearing the whispered rumors about you and your family. 
When you reached your classroom, you went over to your desk at the far back side of the room. Your desk was positioned an extra foot off to the left as if the group of desks had just decided to push yours just a bit further away. You put away your belongings into your desk, hung your backpack on the back of your chair, sat down, and waited for the school day to begin. 
You had your notebook open and you practiced your handwriting as the other students all filed in. Your whole family was in agreement that your handwriting was truly horrible. You needed to fix that, but you frowned at your latest attempts. All barely legible. Your disappointment lingered as the teacher called for the class’s attention. When you lifted your head up, every ounce of disappointment and every thought regarding your terrible handwriting vanished at the sight of her. 
The girl with the blue hair. 
“Class,” your teacher began. “This is Nat. She just moved here and will be joining our class. Let’s give her a warm welcome.” 
As the rest of the class released a chorus of hellos, you sat silently, transfixed. The first, loudest thought in your mind was a simple question: how did she have blue hair? It was so cool. It reminded you of one of the characters out of your sister’s books. The ones she would tell you about right before bed. The second thought was that she was pretty. You couldn’t come up with a good comparison or truly unravel that thought completely. You just knew when you looked at her that she was really pretty. You liked that. 
The teacher gestured to the empty desk closest to yours. Quietly, she crossed the length of the room and sat down at the empty desk. You watched as she pulled a notebook from her backpack before setting her bag down. Then, she looked over towards you. You felt your whole body tense up under her gaze. You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to blurt out the loudest thought in your head, but your mouth stayed shut tight. 
“Hi.” Her greeting was soft and quiet. 
You blinked and your mouth opened. “Hi.” When you felt the first sting of awkward tension, you looked away and back down at your notebook. 
The morning creeped by rather uneventfully. Every so often you would look over at Nat who would be busy writing down notes like the rest of the class. You wondered if she recognized you from the other day. Whenever your attention was on your bad note taking, it would often break off and wonder about how to start a normal conversation with Nat. You had never been in such a weird position before. Wanting a connection instead of accepting the natural recoil. You hadn’t come up with any solid strategies by the time the lunch bell rang. 
You pulled your brown bagged lunch from your backpack and followed your class down to the cafeteria. You lost sight of Nat during the shuffling of students, so you took your seat at your usual spot at the end of one of the long, blue-gray cafeteria tables. You opened up your brown bag and pulled out your aluminum foil wrapped sandwich. It was the only thing your father had packed for you. You unwrapped the foil. Your brow furrowed when you didn’t see any meat, or cheese, or anything poking out from between the twin slices of white bread. In fact, there was nothing at all between the slices. Just two slices of bread sitting one on top of the other. 
You heard hushed giggles coming from further down the table. You looked over just as a few of your laughing classmates quickly looked away. Usually, this didn’t bother you. You were used to this. But you couldn’t deny the hurt starting to creep in. You wanted to say something. Do something. Anything to let out–
Someone sat down next to you. Whatever had started to build inside you washed away at the sight of her again. She started to open up her own bag, but stopped when she noticed the two slices of bread posing as a sandwich. 
Her green eyes shifted to you. “Is that your lunch?”
“Uh,” was the first word out of your mouth before you looked down at the bread slices and then back up to Nat. “Yes. It’s my sandwich.” 
“Where’s all the stuff in between?” she asked. 
“I think my father forgot it,” you answered. 
She reached into her bag and pulled out a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It was already cut in half. “Here.” She offered one half of her sandwich to you. 
You looked from her, to the offered half, and then back to her. “Are you sure?” When she nodded, you took it. You immediately took a big bite. The creamy taste of peanut butter brought a smile to your lips. “Thanks.”
Nat smiled and took a bite of her half of the sandwich. “What’s your name?”
You swallowed your second bite. “Y/N.” 
“I think you live across the street from me,” Nat said. 
Your smile grew tenfold and you nodded. 
This seemed to amuse her as she chewed on another bite of her sandwich. “I remember you.”
“Me too,” you replied. “I like your hair.” 
“Thanks,” she smiled. 
Your conversation carried through your lunch. It was the first time your lunch had been more than just daydreaming between bites of food. You found yourself eagerly engaged in the bits and pieces that Nat shared about herself. You noticed that whenever you shared anything about yourself, she listened attentively without any judgment. You liked the sound of her voice. Whatever connection you had found felt strange and weird. But warm. And happy. 
When lunch was over, you both walked back to class together. You were sad when you took your seats at your desks and returned to your lessons. You already missed this new piece of your life. You just wanted to sit and keep talking to Nat. You strangely got your wish when your teacher instructed the class to pair up for a project. As the rest of the class paired up like normal, Nat looked over towards you. 
“Want to be partners?” she asked. 
When you nodded, she maneuvered her desk to sit a bit closer to yours. Now both of your desks sat further away from the others. You had never conceived that such a day like this would come to pass. Yet here it was, and you couldn’t be happier. 
Somewhere Else – 2010
The burn of the cold mountain air is the only chill you feel as you lift the axe above your head. The muscles in your back protest for the umpteenth time. It’s only been a week since the Amsterham job, and your body is still recovering from the aftermath. Being thrown across a lobby into a pillar wasn’t particularly fun. It wasn’t the worst abuse your body has been through. Barely a fraction of it. But it still sucked. 
You bring the axe down onto the log in front of you. The sharp, curved blade cuts deep into the wood. The smell of pine needles carries on the wind as you yank the axe free from the log. Your bright red plaid shirt clings to your sweaty skin. Your hair is tied back in a messy, low ponytail as you lift the axe back into the air. Dark green cargo pants with the ends tucked into tan boots covers your legs. 
You hadn’t intended to dress up like a lumberjack. You had thrown on your clothes after waking up with a sore back, stared at yourself in the mirror, and wondered what she was doing right now. You had slipped out of Amsterdam without issue. The media had covered the incident with varying degrees of accuracy. There were mentions of charred remains, but no mention of you. Or her. The two days it had taken you to travel to this little piece of woodland paradise had been spent looking over your shoulder. Waiting for her to catch up with you. 
The disappointment you felt upon reaching this place in one piece was a real mood killer. The fun was over, and now you were just left with yourself. You needed to do something. So, here you were with an axe in hand chopping up firewood. But your thoughts still linger on her. You wonder if she’ll ever find you here. You certainly hadn’t left any clues behind. 
Your axe swings back down into the log, and it breaks cleanly in half. You set your axe down upon the grass and toss the chopped wood onto a growing pile off to your right. Then, you grab another log and place it squarely on the stump. Your hands find your axe again. You can’t decide if you liked her blue hair more than the red. You know that you loved when she was on top of you. You raise your axe. Regret weaves into your thoughts. You should have enjoyed it more. What if you never see her again? You bury your axe deep into the log. 
“You have outdone yourself again.” 
Finally. You were wondering when he’d show up. 
You look over towards your father. He steps down from the cabin’s back deck. His thick black hair is combed back and peppered with white strands. Sunlight bounces off a pair of thin, brown wire frame glasses that covers his eyes. He buries his hands into the pockets of a heavy, amber colored jacket as he casually walks towards you. The denim blue jeans he wears bears a few grass stains and dried mud mares his gray loafers.
You yank your axe free and smile. “I made the front page.” 
Your father returns your smile with one of his own, yet it is small and his steel gray eyes remain cold. “I saw. Apparently a shooting between rival criminals turned into a deadly explosion. All dead. The hotel won’t reopen until late next year due to the large hole in their building.” 
A small laugh escapes you as you shake your head. “That is giving them too much credit.”
Your father’s brow furrows. “Who?”
“The men you told me to kill,” you answer as your attention returns to the log in front of you. “They were not rival criminals. They were rich men who wanted more. They reached too far, and I made them go boom.” You raise your axe up and quickly bring it down onto the log. It splits in half. “Except for Tyler.” You look over at your father. “I shot him in the head.” 
“What was so special about Tyler?” he asks. 
You shrug. “Nothing. Just felt like it.” 
Your father lets out a sigh and turns away from you. He takes a few steps away. His hand lifts up, and he runs his fingers through his hair. You set your axe down and toss the newly split wood towards the steadily growing pile of new firewood. You start to reach for another log, but your father turns back around and returns.  
“This job was important.” 
It is your turn to sigh as your interest in splitting the next log vanishes. You knew this was coming. The conversation was always the same whenever one of your jobs ended in a mess. You can’t help the way your eyes instinctively roll. Your father steps closer. 
“These clients are important.”
“It was boring,” you lift your axe up and rest it against your shoulder. 
“I do not care how boring it was, Y/N.”
“Of course you don’t.” Any trace of your earlier amusement is gone. “You did not have to do any of the work. I did. I had to spend four days with an arrogant stranger who smelled like cheap cologne and even cheaper bourbon.” Your father shakes his head and turns away from you, but you are far from through with your rant. “All that money, and he is a cheapskate. Did you know that the first thing he made me do was beat up his driver because he wore the wrong tie? And there was no backup. Who doesn’t have backup?”
Your father turns back to face you. “Are you done?”
“No,” you reply. “I wanted to kill him then. After the first twenty minutes. But no. The important clients don’t want to tackle their problems one at a time. They want everything all at once.” 
“They wanted this job to be subtle.”
“I do not understand why you are upset with me because your clients had unreal expectations,” you reply. 
Your father frowns. “Because I trained you to be better than this.”
You don’t have a clever response for that. You turn and start to make your way towards the cabin. 
“They are also upset that you left one of them alive,” your father says after a moment. 
You stop as you reach the cabin’s back deck. You look back over towards your father. “Then their information is bad. All the targets are dead. It will probably take awhile to identify all the bodies. Shifting through the rubble from the charred limbs takes time.” You set your axe down and lean it against the side of the wooden cabin. 
“They’ve already identified all the bodies,” your father says as he follows you towards the cabin’s back deck. “The targets, their hired security, the SHIELD team.” His voice goes cold around the last three words. 
You stare at your axe. You knew he was going to find out eventually. There was always a report after every one of your jobs. He knew of all your successes and all your weaknesses. It still doesn’t stop you from feeling that first hint of fear. Rooted in so many memories. Your gaze returns to your father. The frown he wears looks so natural upon his face. 
“I did not know that they would be involved,” you say. 
“None of us did,” your father replies. “Why did you leave one of them alive?” 
You feel the fear more keenly now. It’s like he’s reaching out for your favorite toy. You know what he’ll do when he gets it. But it’s yours, and he doesn’t get to touch it. 
“I didn’t–”
“Y/N!” 
You jump slightly at the way your father’s voice explodes like the crack of a gunshot. 
“It’s her, Dad.” 
Your voice is small as confusion softens the hard lines of your father’s face. It’s as if you are back in Ohio seeing the girl with blue hair for the first time. It had stolen the breath from your lungs the first time you saw her. So loudly different from the peaceful town tapestry. You thought you and your siblings were the only ones who stood apart. But then she entered your life.  
“It’s Nat,” you say when your father’s confusion persists. 
And just like that, his confusion falls away and his eyes widen. 
“The Russian spy?” 
A small smile curls your lips. “I didn’t get a chance to ask if that was true.”
“Oh no.” Your father’s hand runs through his hair again before shaking his head. “This is not good.”
“Dad.” You step towards him. “This is wonderful. I thought my only friend had been murdered.”
“That’s because you will believe anything your oaf of a brother tells you,” your father replies. “That girl was a spy. That whole family was built out of secrets and lies. Allowing you to form an attachment with her was a mistake. She was a distraction for you then, and she remains a distraction now.” 
“She did not distract me,” you lie. “I completed the job. Is it now against the rules to socialize with old friends?”
“If she is working with SHIELD then she is your enemy,” the familiar coldness of your father’s voice returns sharply. “She threatens our reputation with our clients.”
“How?” you ask. “She did not stop me from killing my targets. She did not stop me from escaping. She did not follow me here.” Each and every one of those facts were crushing disappointments. “Your reputation remains intact. Nothing will change. I will complete the jobs you give me to the best of my ability. What does it matter if I talk to her? She will not stop me.”
You wait for your father’s argument, yet he says nothing. The look he gives you is familiar. He is studying. Assessing. It reminds you of the countless grueling training sessions in the basement of your home in Ohio. You would be sprawled out on the floor, staring up at him, covered in sweat and sucking in lungfuls of air. Desperate for the training to stop. 
Finally, your father lets out a sigh and digs his hand back into his coat pocket. He withdraws a square, white envelope and extends it out towards you. “Your next job. Straightforward. I expect clean results.” 
You smile and reach for the envelope. But before you can grab it, your father pulls it away. 
“She cannot be a distraction, Y/N.”
Your smile falters. You want to point out that you already explained why she wasn’t. You want to stress that she’ll never be able to stop you from completing your jobs. What happened in Amsterdam was the result of a really long, awful job. You want to say all this, but you don’t. You wish that you were ignorant of the reason. But you know why. Because you aren’t certain what would have happened if that explosion hadn’t happened. If it had just been you and Nat. 
But, you nod, and your father hands over the envelope. You take it.
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whinlatter · 3 months
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author's note | chapters 13 & 14: the moult & the vulture
now the dust has settled... thank you for reading chapters 13 and 14 of beasts! thank you also to the askbox angels who asked for the author’s note (it is still mad to me someone reads these). now, it's inquiry time, baby - and boy are the gloves coming off, and the secrets spilling out. the wait was long; so were the chapters. sorry, again, about that. so - kindly read on for discussion of some major themes and plot points, a little on song choices, and some juicy deets and a sneak peek of chapter 15... and 16…
✨ spoilers for this chapter below the cut  ✨
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writing notes and headcanons
first - a disclaimer: am going to talk about that cliffhanger in a separate post up shortly (i rambled on too long). it will be up shortly!
second - a thank you! the reaction to these chapters has me in absolute bits. i'm a soppy sentimental shit at heart and this really did make me the happiest little girl in the world. so thank you forever and ever for that.
third - an acknowledgement, as ever, to @saintsenara, whom i bounce all the inane details off of, whose takes absolutely slap and who i hope will forgive me for making her boy rookwood such a flop.
divide and conquer/accidentally wrote two chapters again: what am i like! the trouble is - life-stuff aside - i was excited about these chapters (and the reveals), but also put far too much pressure on them to do a huge amount of heavy lifting, and to get the story to a place it wasn’t yet at and needed to get to quick. the writing challenge for these chapters was that i needed a series of plots to hit a rolling boil so we can get to the flashbacks to ginny’s war and all the reveals. and it took fucking ages to work how to structure and serve them as each needs at this point in the fic, and try to find a set of themes/devices to tie those plots together into something cohesive (especially because writing fic is much more like dropping tv show episodes in structure rather than actually sharing a novel, in part because you drop them one at a time at intervals, and i think the more successful ones can stand alone while also serving the overall body of work). i have - i confess - knitted, in my time, and you know when you have really thick wool and thick needles and you’re trying to slowly eek off one stitch onto the other needle and it actually really starts to hurt? it felt like that :) 
two inquiries, both alike in dignity: god, i love an inquiry. the truth being dragged out kicking and screaming by  the state, buffeted by political winds and a rapacious press? inject it. at last, the past is getting properly dredged up, and all sorts of buried secrets are getting unearthed in the process. so: in the present, the hogwarts inquiry is under way, and the wizengamot has assembled to hear what exactly has been going down in that cursed drafty old castle. in the past, though, we have flashbacks to a separate inquiry, into the events of 1992-1993, after the chamber of secrets was opened, where it wasn’t hogwarts on trial, but ginny herself (in a way). the events of ginny’s first year have haunted her in diffuse, quiet, private ways in the flashbacks throughout this fic so far, but we’re moving into the part of the fic where we see just how much they changed the course of her life and who she is as a person. in canon, ofc, we only see harry’s view of the aftermath of ginny’s ordeal in the chamber - dumbledore is reinstated, lucius gets kicked off the governors, ginny weasley is ‘perfectly happy again’... but would that *really* be the end of it? doesn’t it seem perfectly plausible the ministry would investigate given the scale of publicity and threat to student lives, given (as discussed previously) the ministry canonically holds inquiries of varying scales for all sorts of things in canon? wouldn't they hold one for this?
ginny's guilt: in CoS, young harry never blames ginny for any of it: she was hoodwinked, he recognises, and not at all culpable. it’s very harry, and it’s a compassionate read of the situation. but given how little we know dumbledore tells anyone about what the diary actually was (even lucius didn’t know), wouldn’t ginny expect to face at least some questions about her own involvement and culpability, even if she was clearly to some extent also a victim? (the nod to colin’s mum is there as a reminder that there were real victims of the basilisk attacks: ginny could easily have been responsible for the deaths of several children, including her own friends, and if it were my child i think i’d want to ask at least a question or two). what i wanted to show with these flashbacks was this very formative experience for young ginny grappling with her own guilt and her place between two wars, having to face difficult questions about her own complicity in dark magic and attempted murder; for there to be echoes of ginny’s experiences in the experiences of young death eaters during the second wizarding war, and to start to properly draw these themes about choices, moral agency and grey areas, about children’s radicalisation and wars fought both by and through them, and, in particular, where ginny weasley sat within them. what i wanted to show was how ginny’s political and moral worldview was shaped in those pivotal years: her guilt, her sense of her own failings and inadequacies, how discontent she was to be a victim, how obsessed she is with being an agent and a soldier, how much she feels she has to prove. i might bash out a proper meta on this but i think it’s so telling how ginny talks about her second year later on in canon - how haunted she is by the forgetting (in OotP), and how much she sees it as having ‘[taken] orders’ (in HBP), rather than thinking of her possession as just playing host to another entity. here, it’s dumbledore who points out the key traits that led ginny into riddle’s path: her loneliness and isolation, her many insecurities that made her so vulnerable, her fear, a certain desire for self-preservation. even though we know most hogwarts students don’t seem to really know what happened in CoS, and certainly not ginny’s part in it (terry boot in OotP is like ‘lol did you kill a basilisk with a sword!’ which seems to be the extent of the student body’s knowledge of what went down). but i like the idea of there being a record of ginny’s darkest moment in her file, ink and paper proof of this most formative experience in her life, dumbledore dancing around her defence but keeping his cards close to his chest - and also there to pursue if anyone planning a hogwarts takeover was interested in finding someone close to the order of the phoenix who might be a weak link in the chain and be persuaded to flip…
dumbledore: dumbledore appears here only in flashbacks - he’s still absent from his portrait in the present - but it was sooo fun (re)introducing him as a character for the fic for the first time. what i liked about writing dumbledore’s dialogue (though it’s actually much harder than i expected, and i don’t feel that great about some of the lines) was that it was a chance to get a bit meta with the dumbledore bashing tropes that circle around fandom - you work through child soldiers, you monster etc - and try and do something a bit more interesting with them, or at least ask some questions (child soldiers or human shields? can children fight for what they believe in? how you fight a fair fight when the other side sees children as fair game - do you confine children to victimhood, or do you acknowledge, or even encourage, their own moral agency and desire to fight back?) dumbledore is walking a very difficult moral line here: defending ginny, but declining to disclose information that might conclusively exonerate her - eg. the existence of voldemort’s horcruxes - in the name of his most favourite thing, the greater good. in dumbledore’s mind, ginny deserves a defence, but not the whole truth, because that’s too important and bound up in a much bigger picture. dumbledore is always playing 3D chess while everyone else plays chequers. should dumbledore have revealed the horcruxes to conclusively exonerate ginny here? no, right? and yet. one day ginny will name her middle son after this man, and we might start to think about why. is it just loyalty to harry? or something else? i wanted us to see ginny’s political worldview being built, and her view of war and a soldier’s role in it, all themes that will be super important as we go back in time to see her war as she lived it in future chapters.
the intellectuals: one of the least developed but most interesting parts of the wizarding world in canon are the ideas and the people who have em. the series has a lot of important characters that are supposed to be eminent thinkers, but it doesn’t ever really linger on ideology, in the end settling on a kind of boilerplate liberal universalist good vs evil message which is fiiine but much less interesting than actually playing around with the concept of political thinkers and political thought in wizarding culture. it’s why i find the department of mysteries so interesting and so ripe with potential; the idea of a space of intellectual inquiry and investigation, but also a place where the staff’s moral allegiance is kind of a question mark. i loved introducing rookwood here and playing with a different kind of death eater, especially juxtaposed with dumbledore’s reflections in the flashback testimony. rookwood isn’t a bruising thug for fire, or a self-serving machiavellian real politik type or a coward acting out of fear, but someone who really believes in magical supremacy and has built a robust political worldview around it. there’s something really chilling about that. we’ll be seeing him again and i unfortunately am now so rookwood-pilled i worry i will never recover. i knew i’d get hegel in there somewhere! and they said it couldn’t be done! ariana carl schmidt what are you doing here!
kingsley vs minnie: delicious to reignite the minnie discourse, especially to come out to try and beat the minnie-bashing allegations that have jovially dogged me thus far. so far in this fic, kingsley has been an unrelenting goodie, someone who came to ginny to get her endorsement of the inquiry and framed that approach as the righting of a moral wrong in letting the victims of a death eater-run hogwarts have their day in court. minnie, on the other hand, seemed like ginny’s opp, defending a toxic status quo and making wild suggestions like ‘do your homework’ ‘don’t play quidditch when you might die’, like some kind of fucking idiot. in the series ministers of magic are canonically not to be trusted - harry certainly never meets a minister who doesn’t try to put the squeeze on him - and it’s extremely fun to sow these seeds of doubts about kingsley’s motivations here, especially when using ginny the protagonist as canon harry’s mirror (ie. a narrator who is frequently a dumb bitch). what’s kingsley up to? answers on a postcard. but i’ll die on the kingsley is a slytherin hill i’m so sorry! and speaking of minnie…
mother figures (or: the pitfalls of shipping your mum out to the dominions): look i bummed myself out with this one. i have had that the mrs granger knife crime incident scene written for SOoooooo long let me tell you. i’ve written elsewhere about how much this fic is really so much about the girls, and - especially - the girls and their mums, or the people they make mother figures out of. one of the least satisfying of the ‘all was well’ aspect of the series was that actually, at the end of DH, you have a whole host of people who were probably never going to be well again, and i very much see hermione’s parents in that camp. the world and his wife has an opinion on hermione’s decision vis-à-vis her parents. hermione’s stans see it as her deepest personal self-sacrifice; her haters take it as yet more proof of her monstrousness. even if you imagine the grangers were totally mentally well after having their muggle brains messed around with by powerful magic, it is hard to imagine how their relationship with their daughter could ever really be the same again after hermione played god with their minds. but also - as ron says - hermione was motivated by a desperate desire to protect two people who would never really be able to wrap their heads around the peril (such was their distance from her life in the magical world), and who conceivably did need to be yeeted halfway across the world to get them out of harm’s way. the choices made in war - the inglorious, imperfect decisions not of purist heroes but of soldiers in the grimmest of circumstances - are so interesting to play with writing post-war fic, and i have found it so interesting and so sad to play with; especially the idea of girls coming of age and learning to see their mothers clearly, and - in the case of both hermione but also ginny - having to wrap their heads around the possibility that they may never really be ok again, and asking what that means for them, their daughters.
(also hermione brawling at ballet is a tribute to a very dear friend of mine who was in fact asked to leave our ballet lessons for pulling another girl’s hair in a fight over the barre in a pre-primary exam. monstrous competitive precocious stroppy madams unite!) 
hinny: i’ll answer some of the Qs i’ve had about this in a separate little from the postbag post shortly, but i do want to say: the thing with these chapters is that it was really important they happened after harry and ginny have had some breakthrough in the preceding chapter, where ginny has agreed to be honest and harry has asked her to let him help her and not to protect him from the truth. i always wanted harry and ginny to write these letters each other and promise to be honest to work on bridging the gaps between them and overcoming their own failings to work to do better by each other, and for those letters to now look like contracts they have to hold each other to. how will harry take it? they’ve made a commitment to each other. now they’re testing that commitment, and that’s going to take a lot of work, especially on harry’s part. (also ofc he had to find out at shell cottage, the official place of harry realising stuff. he’s going to start declining bill and fleur’s dinner invitations fr.)
ron weasley is our king: this whole fic is just ron apologism and i will never apologise for it. helping his girlfriend's traumatised mentally scarred mother with a bit of tlc and a spot of gardening! rescuing neighbour's children from trees! you will never be able to convince me ron weasley wouldn't be a great fucking boyfriend to one ms hermione granger. do not ever try!
last thing - sodding quidditch: fucking hate writing it!!! hate it with my whole heart!!! i see why everyone writes hermione now. you don’t have to give a shit about those stupid balls if granger's your gal. the mystery of what’s going on with ginny on her broom continues, with ginny’s apparent ability to seek (just about) but not chase throwing up more questions than answers. what was fun about writing this bit was getting to write ginny the captain and the team player, taking on great risk for the team - of injury, of humiliation -  and also place her in this surround that the trio never really operate in: a character who is canonically very popular and liked by her peers, who has played the thoroughly selfless and unrewarding role of backup seeker and potter understudy for years for her house, and who will saddle up at enormous personal expense not just because she is brave, or inherently self-sacrificing, but because she wants to make the people around her happy - her gryffindor family, but also the hogwarts student body at large. the trio are much less motivated by the well-being of the other children around them - they have higher-minded self-sacrificing tendencies about a more abstract moral good. neville and luna, the other two members of the silver trio, are goodies but unpopular oddities. it’s an underplayed part of the series that harry and the trio turn around in their sixth year and clock that somehow ginny turned out to be very liked and respected by the popular and unpopular of hogwarts alike, admired for being a) a laugh and b) someone who cares about other people and wants to get on with them. (makes you realise how often protagonists are removed from their peers in a slightly lofty they don’t understand me or being popular is beneath me vein.) this isn’t just a Nice Thing: i think it’s important for who ginny is as a character, and will be important for thinking about her wartime motivations, too.
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reading list:
not done one of these in a while! but most things should come with a reading list, and these chapters are no different.
on ministry bureaucracy and the state (actually read this after these chapters were done but desperately wish i had read it before ffs):
Subluxation by @saintsenara
on hermione's mum/parents:
alone now by Kyra Along the Way by ElizabethCulmer you were broken-hearted and the world was, too by celaenos
on post-war justice and difficult questions:
what you're not to do by irnan
on the potters and the sea (more vibes than subject matter - this is next gen - but this one is gorgeous, and really got me thinking about harry and ginny's family by the sea):
Eyes like Sea Glass by @clerical3rror
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songs from the playlist for these chapters:
for chapter 13 i went all moody, building dread, bit of a throwback to michael corner calling ginny a tryer with the taylor swift choice (i've never been a natural/all i do is try, try, try). that kate bush song basically got this chapter written i swear to god:
she is like the swallow by karan casey | waking the witch (2018 remaster) by kate bush | house of the rising sun by joni mitchell | bane by alt-j | afraid of everyone by the national | mirrorball - the long pond studio sessions by taylor swift | what if the birds aren't singing they're screaming by aldous harding
for chapter 14, much more abstract, a bit more instrumental, and out to sea (watershed moment; the tide is rolling in, kids). tortured poets is a deeply flawed deeply uneven album by a deeply un-self-aware artist convinced she knows herself well but but i'm afraid the albatross is very good (so is guilty as sin but it wasn't the moment for a matty healy wank anthem now was it):
the opportunity passed in less than a minute by roy montgomery | the albatross by taylor swift | first of the tide by erland cooper and benge | wash by bon iver | escapism by a. blomqvist
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about chapter 15 (and 16…)
the next chapters are ginny's war. they're (almost) all flashback, and i am sooooooo excited about them (and desperately hope you will like them jfc). i am in the unusual position of now picking up great enormous pieces that i wrote over a year ago and dusting them off and sorting them out and rewriting bits and writing new bits around them. there's probably two chapters in it, so am currently expecting chapter 15 and 16 to drop at the same time (that might change, but for now, that feels right to me). i'm tip-tapping as fast as my little fingers can carry me. here's the least spoilery sneak peek i could rustle up!
'I'm not smugglin' in nuthin", says Hagrid. He raises a large muddy finger at her. 'I want yeh to listen to me, for once in yer life. Keep yer head down. Go to yer classes, have yer dinner, put up, and shut up. They're lookin' fer a reason to go after yer family. Reckon the best thing yeh can do for the Order is to keep to verself and stay out o' trouble. Reckon that's what yer mum wants yeh to do. Reckon that's what Harry wants, too.'
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morganbritton132 · 2 years
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Okay but why do o feel with the whole “it’s Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve” Eddie would bring release a song called ‘Eddie and Steve’?
The song is a retelling of the drama between Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve as Eve, Adam, and Steve. It’s told from the third person perspective of someone (Eddie) that is in love with one of the people in the love triangle (Steve). The gist of the song is basically ‘fuck Adam and Eve, I want Steve.’
They name the song ‘Adam and Steve’ but it still somehow gets misinterpreted as someone wanting to get with Eve. Every time someone is shocked to find out that Eddie is gay, he points to this song like, “I wrote this in 1992.” (Even though he wrote it in ’84. He’d just never admit how bad his crush on Steve actually was).
Eddie begs Steve to be in the music video, but Steve wholeheartedly refuses. He loves Eddie with all his heart, but nothing in this world would convince him to be a music video that would play on MTV. Steve tried theater in middle school and the stage fright was so he dropped out after a week.
Eddie does the next best thing; he has his manager ask Tom Cruise.
When Tom Cruise declines, he does the third best thing. He buys a camcorder, and they film a lot of home movies and turn them into a music video. There are a lot clips filmed inside of Nancy and Robin’s apartment because Steve was still living with them at the time so despite the fact that there is a clip of Steve running and jumping into Eddie’s arms and kissing him, people still think that the song is about a girl.
Eddie full on kisses a man in a music video and yet, he still has to publicly come out.
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satlun · 3 months
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Vacation Boy: Johnny Utah x fem!reader
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Genre: slow burn, fluff, and definitely angst Trigger Warnings: Johnny Utah's sweetness
It was a hot summer day in the middle of July that you will always remember.
Author's Note: I really love this one. I feel like I really wrote it down from my heart. It's like I put my soul into it. Yeah, I hope you guys enjoy!! ♥️
April 18, 1992 at New York
It is a move-in day for the new job you just got here after graduation, at the big city. You drop your bags and luggage on the floor immediately right at the moment you close your apartment's door. Five-hour flight from Idaho and you just finished moving your stuff in, you're really tired.
Your eyes look around the apartment. It a mess, you can't even have a bed or even a space on the floor to sleep on. You just bought a new bed today and it will deliver within two days, guess you have to sleep on the floor tonight. How bad. You kick the boxes away from your way before stepping in the middle of your room, looking around and thinking which box you should open first or maybe you just move them to one of the corners and open them tomorrow. You sigh.
And another thought kick in, maybe you should open them now before the delivery delivers your bed which is so big, too big for one person but you don't care actually. You sit down on the floor that have many boxes around you. You decide to open the boxes that you packed up your clothes first. You put your clothes into your closet and dress up at the same time. Some clothes you haven't wear it since you bought them and some clothes you haven't seen them but your mom probably packed them for you? You try the new ones on while looking at the mirror. Your eyes admire the dress you're wearing on until your gaze spots the box that says “old stuffs” through the mirror. You turn around and walk to it. You're a person who loves keeping things as your memories, postcards, letters and souvenirs.
The box that full of stuff you have collected, you smile while picking them up. Your old memories start to come into your mind. You really love this feeling, it is good if you understand. The feeling and the emotion during those moments will come across your mind. You grab many things out of the box until the last piece, your old diary which there is no page left.
You open shortly from the first page until the last page. Your eyes roam through it until you spot one page on 17th July last year.
July 17, 1991
I met a guy on the vacation... five days ago on 12th July at Latigo beach. He was a cool guy I met on the last day of my vacation. We talked and had a lot of fun there... he has pretty brown eyes and beautiful hair. I need to write about him before all the memories are gone. I don't want to forget about him. He's the most handsome guy with the most precious soul I have ever met. When he was in the sea, surfing was so amazing. Him and surfing was a bond. All of his friends were nice to me and they had their amazing goals. I wish he still thinks about me honestly even I am not that pretty but he really gets my heart...
You are lost in your memories, all the feelings get back to your mind. The beach, the wind, the sun and him...
...
It was a hot summer day of the mid July at California and it was the last day of your vacation. The sun didn't rise yet since it was only 6am in the morning. You walked down the stairs from the road to the beach alone since your parents were still asleep. You wanted to see sunrise at the beach before you leave because first you had to leave so early in the next morning second Idaho doesn't have beaches third you don't go to beaches so often even beach is your favorite place.
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Your eyes looked around the beach. There was no one here except a guy around your age surfing alone in the sea at this early?? Well, that was quite interesting. The water must be so cool sine the sun didn't rise yet. That was what you thought. You sat down on the sand with your casual clothes which actually were the clothes you wore last night. The beach was very quiet that you could only hear the wave and the wind, so peaceful. You always love California because your dad talked about it a lot and his favorite song is Hotel California by Eagles which your dad always listens to it since you were young. You wished you could stay here forever, you would build a small house next to the beach and you might actually start learning how to surf. You thought it was cool, how come people stand on those boards and surf on big waves? That must relate with physics but it was still cool for you. You really wanted to learn it one day.
After a while of sitting and glancing at him time to time. You know it was hard to look somewhere else when no one was there except this guy. You could say, he wasn't that good in surfing but you didn't want to judge anybody so you tried to stop thinking about this mysterious stranger guy. You distracted yourself by looking at the sun which was starting to rise. Just a little.
Right now, the guy was swimming closer to the shore. You feel a little bit nervous because there was only you here all alone and what if he says, “You stared at me. Are you a psycho?” What are you gonna do! You just hoped that he didn't notice that which was impossible. He was now walking up to the beach, seems like he was walking to you. Oh my- you felt like you just wanted to disappear. Please please please, I didn't mean to stare... what? Did he just give you a smile?
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“Hi?” The guy looked down at you with a soft smile while the sky was starting to become yellow. “Hi” You answered as he slowly sat down next to you, not close. It's good since he was a completely a stranger, not bad for the first impression. “What brings you here this early?” He looked at you before rubbing his head with a towel. “The sun... and what about you?” You looked at him with his wet hair, he didn't look at you but the sun. It was raising. “If I say myself?” He said and finally looked at you once again. What does it mean ‘myself’? “You mean– you, yourself just want to be here this early. That's all?” His eyebrows raised. “A shot in the dark.” He chuckled. “It's not that hard.” You shrugged your shoulders and gave him a smile and the conversation became silent, it was awkward and he was just wiping his face with the towel. “You surf a lot?” It was a dumb question actually but who cares, you hate dead air. “Lately, yes. I'm practicing it. I just caught my first tube this morning.” You just nodded and then continued the conversation. “I always appreciate people who can surf... you know. How can people stand on that board and surf in big waves? It is just cool for me.” His chuckle was so cute... what? You mean it was soft and whatever. As if he could read your mind. “It must be something about physics but I don't know, not my type.” Not his type? It was a joke he meant he didn't even care about physics since it wasn't his favorite subject. “Then what's your type?” He could answer it in a second. “Athletic” It was obvious that he liked athletic, his body and his spirit? “I see...” The sun rose now. You could see it clearly now. You glances at your watch and it was 7am. “You live here?” His soft and deep voice interrupted you. “No. I'm on my vacation, tomorrow is my last day.” He nodded before giving you a glance. “How was your vacation?” He asked. “It was good. I had a lot of fun here.” You always love it. Everything all just gave you peace to your mind and soul. It was like another kind of healing. “I'm glad you had a lot of fun here.” His beautiful smile formed on his face again. Your heart almost skipped a beat but you tried to keep it cool. You glanced at his board. “I wish I could surf.” He believes that the only thing that is matter is ourselves. If you want to do something, you should do it. “You can try. Just do it. Do it for yourself.” You sighed in desperation. “I want to... but there's no beach back in Idaho.” “You are from Idaho?” He raised his eyebrows. “Yes” You looked at him. “I've never been there but I would love to one day.” “You should. It's great. I can tour you around.” It was a joke but what if it sounds weird... “Yeah. It would be nice.” He smiled at you and all of your concerns were gone. He is the kind of person who makes you feel comfortable while you're talking to. “It may have indoor surfing places in Idaho maybe?” he gave you an advice. “I think it has but it can't be campared to this actual sea right?" You span your arms to the sea. “The real waves and the real sea water.” His eyes followed your hand and nodded. “Yeah. You're right. This one is better.” He gave you a smile while looking at you.
For a moment, you saw him glancing at his watch, it almost 8am and he seemed like he needed to go. He grabbed his surf board and stood up, ready to leave. “Do you wanna... eat lunch together?” Did he just ask me on a date or something? Your delusions consumed you again. You hesitated at first because you just had no idea about your answer if it should be; “Yes, of course I'm so glad you ask me!!” Or “Okay, sure.” Or “no... I already have a plan” because he is still a random guy that you just met. However, he had no harm you could feel it. So, your answer was, “Sounds good. Sure. Where?” He pointed at the sidewalk restaurant near the beach which was still close now. “There” you stood up and followed his finger. “Okay. 12pm?” You asked “Yeah. 12pm.” He was about to leave but something made him stop and turn around. “I'm Johnny.” That was it, you thought he wouldn't tell you his name. “Y/n. Nice to meet you.” You gave him a quick smile. “Same here.” He gave you a soft smile like the first time he did before leaving.
...
11.50am at California State was really hot. Your face was so sweaty, your legs rushed to the door of the sidewalk restaurant and got in. The restaurant was still hot because there was no air conditioning. You sit on a table, waiting for Johnny to come. Your clothes were changed to something prettier. Well, you didn't mean to impress anyone but yourself. Right?.... RIGHT?
After a while of waiting for him and it was already 12pm, he finally showed up in a tight grey shirt which made him look different in good way. His hair was now dry and was set perfectly. He literally could pull anybody he wanted. That was your weird thought. When Johnny spot you, he rushed to you with the same soft smile immediately. You didn't know if it was the weather or it was him that made your heart melt.
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“Have you been here long?” He sat down in front of you as you shook your head. “No. Not at all.” Johnny nodded as an answer before picking up a menu. “What would you like to eat today?” When it comes to food, it always be a hard decision to make. Usually, you just order the same same thing but maybe this time you should try something different. “I have no idea... could you recommend me something good?” He gave you a smile and show the menu for you. He pointed his finger on shrimp and fries. “Sure. This. Is my favorite.” It sounds good shrimp and fries. You gave him a nod and smiled at him. He has a good taste in food. “Shrimp and fries, 2 please?” Johnny called a waitress and ordered the food for you and him. It was not a date right? But you couldn't help to think it that way. He set his hair perfectly... it wasn't that necessary to do it just for eating lunch in this weather with a girl he just met. Whatever.
After the waitress went to the kitchen, Johnny started talking to you. “Where did you visit this morning?” He shot you a question. “Santa Monica Pier. There are amusement rides and many other things.” You explained to him while your eyes are looking around the restaurant and switch to him time to time. It was hard to just stare and focus on him. You meant he was kind of... handsome? It was just hard you know. “That is my favorite place when I was a kid. You like to play something exciting?” He raised his eyebrows because that is his favorite thing as well. “Oh no. Not at all. But my younger brother does so he dragged me there.” Johnny laughed at your answer. “You have a younger brother? I wish I had one.” He gave you a smile before looking out the window, watching other kids playing around the beach. “Oh please. You wouldn't like it that much.” You chuckled. “How come?” He was curious. “He is naughty and ugh so on. You will understand if you have one.” You paused for a moment before continuing to speak. “But I do wish I had an older brother.” Johnny switched his gaze on you again. He noticed your eyes that full are full of hope. “So you're the oldest?” He asked. “Yeah.” He inhaled and exhaled softly as he put his hands on the table. “Being the oldest must be very hard. You know, they have to be good at everything and also have responsibility at the same time. And we are just teenagers who just want to have fun.” He paused and notice that you were listening to him carefully so he started to tell you more about him. “I really understand that feeling. I'm an only child and the things aren't that different.” All the things he said was just right. You the oldest and it feels like everything or every weight is on your back. You have to handle it. You must. “As if you can read my mind.” You chuckled to make the conversation felt less intense. Johnny flashed his soft smile at you again. That was his deadly weapon of killing you. “How many years apart are you and your brother?” You didn't expect that even you were about to ask him about his age either. “11 years. I'm 22 and he's 11.” Johnny nodded as the waitress served us our food. “I'm 24... let's eat.” You both smiled at each other before eating his favorite food. You hadn't tried it before and it was better than you expected. Maybe stepping out of your comfort zone or the same thing you usually do aren't that bad. You try something new and you may accidentally found your new favorite things.
30 minutes later of talking and eating food, you both stepped out of the sidewalk restaurant. You looked out at the sea which the surface was reflecting the sun and the heat. “So... me and my new friends have a party tonight and the beach... if you want to join you can come.” He interrupted you. “Thank you but... I don't want to interrupt your party...” You chuckled at him. The truth was you just hate meeting new people sine you have social anxiety. “It's alright. Never mind.” He seemed like he was about to leave. So, this was gonna be your last time of seeing him?? That's it? “Maybe it's not that bad– I'll go.” His smile was formed from excitement you could tell. You wished you could make him smile forever, it was like sunshine in a daylight sky. “See you there at 7pm.” Johnny pointed at some space at the beach, and you nodded as understanding.
...
The weather is completely different from the day and the night. The wind makes you feel cold. Both of your hand brush your arm while walking down the stairs. You can see a group of teenagers walking and dancing around a bonfire at the beach. It must be them, his new friends. You just hope that he was already there because it was gonna be weird if a stranger showed up at Mr.Nobody's party.
That moment Johnny saw you first. He stood up and rushed to you immediately, noticing your reaction. “Are you cold?” You just nodded and walked along with him. “Come closer to the bonfire.” He led you to the bonfire that was around by his friends. You sit down on the log he already prepared for you. Suddenly, all of his friends noticed your presence. They walked to you and started to talk. “This is Bodhi. Bodhi, this is y/n.” Johnny introduced you to the man who was a bit older than him and his blond hair was really memorizing. “Nice to meet you, Bodhi.” Bodhi just nodded before sitting next to Johnny. “Your girlfriend?” Johnny refused immediately. He didn't want you to make you feel uncomfortable at all but it was also still hard to control his friend's mouth. “No. She's my new friend.” His deep voice and the reaction of protecting over you was a thing. “I'm sorry for my mouth.” Bodhi made a joke before offering his hand to you, you shook his hand and gave a quick smile.
Bodhi was scary for you at first. However, the moment after you both had a conversation about many things, especially the 50 year storm. You started to see him differently. He wasn't that bad. He was a cool guy. You loved when he talked about the ocean and the sea. As if he was a son of a mermaid or something. His spirit that he had towards the marine life was just really cool. He was a cool guy with his big goal. You just hoped that if that time comes, he would be able to go to Bell's beach in time and achieve the ultimate ride.
An hour later, the boys and the girls decided to play football. “Come, y/n” Bodhi called you while holding a ball in his hand. “Thank you... but I prefer to watch.” Well, because you're not good at athletic at all. You didn't want to embarrass yourself as well so refusing him was the best choice. “Come on.” Bodhi tried to convince you and Johnny noticed that. He walked to you and said something quietly. “If you don't want to, it's okay. I'll talk to him.” When you heard him saying that, all the thoughts you had towards athletes were changed. Well, Johnny really affected on you that much. You hesitated for a moment and then you realized that you wanted to get out of your comfort zone and tried something new. If you accidentally embarrassed yourself then it was going to be alright since this was the last night of staying here. They were not going to remember your embarrassing moments forever. You didn't answer him back except walking into the crowd, ready to join. A smile formed on his face while his eyes followed you.
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You started to play clumsily. It was kind of embarrassing but whatever. You tried to not care and it seemed work. Fun made you forget all about those thoughts. You played and you fell off over and over but you could still laugh and smile because it was really fun. Johnny always cheered you up for the whole game. “You're doing great.” Or “Keep going.” He said softly to you for the whole time.
Almost an hour later. It was 9pm. It was the time to go back to the hotel. You had to leave early in the morning and your parents must be worried about you now. “Are you leaving?” Johnny noticed that you started to look back at the hotel and wipe all the sand from your pants. “Yeah” you said. “Safe flight, y/n!” Bodhi and his friends shouted at you. You just said thank you to all of them. “I'll walk with you.” Johnny said quietly. You insisted him to stay here but he didn't listen. It was completely dark and he was worried about you.
The only sound you could hear is the waves. It was not totally dark, it still has light along the road. He was walking along the beach with you. You talked about how fun it was and how cool his friends were. He chuckled with every word you said. “So, I hope it will be one of your best memories of traveling here.” Johnny looked at you while your hair was flowing because of the wind. “It definitely is... thank you, Johnny... you really made my vacation so special.” Johnny nodded and smiled. “No problem. You deserve it.” You smiled and looked over the sea, thinking about tomorrow. You had to leave very early and you didn't think that you would see him again. “What time will you leave tomorrow?” Johnny interrupted your thoughts. “6am. I don't want to leave.” You sighed. “I wish you could stay here forever too.” That moment your heart was beating so fast. His voice, his words and the atmosphere. As if he was about to say something and you didn't want to ask him either. If he wanted he would. “I will come. Tomorrow. 6am to send you.” You raised your eyebrows immediately. Gosh, you thought this was gonna be the last time you saw him. You flashed a happy face to him. “Thank you, Johnny. It's kind of weird that I just know you for a day but... you know I feel comfortable around you and... I feel like I could talk about anything with you.” Johnny chuckled and looked at the sand that was stepped by our feet. “I feel that way too. I'm glad I know you.” And you said back immediately. “I'm glad that you said ‘hi’ to me.” You both laughed. “I saw you glanced at me... maybe you just wanted to talk?” You were caught off guard. He noticed that you actually glanced at him tome to time while he was surfing. “There was nobody there except a guy surfing. You can't blame me.” You both laughed out loud. “Sure. I can't blame you for looking at this good surfing man.” You just shook your head and shrugged your shoulders. “Don't stop alright?” He's confused. “Stop what?” “Surfing. You seem... very happy and– very concentrated while surfing. It is like you are in your own world. I think surfing really matches you.” Johnny nodded and smiled. “Sure. I will keep that in mind.”
You both finally arrived at the front of your hotel. You turn around to see him again before walking into the building. “Good night, Johnny.” He sighed and smiled at you. “Good night, y/n. See you tomorrow.” You smiled back and walked into the building, you walked and turn back and walked again. Johnny laughed at your actions. He waited for you until the elevator's doors closed and gave you a smile as you did the same then he finally turned around and walked away.
...
The next morning at 5:45am. You were waiting your parents and your brother to put the luggage into the car. You said to them that you wanted to see the beach for the last time and you would be back by 6am.
You ran across the road, down to the beach, looking around hoping to see him sitting somewhere waiting for you but there was no sign of him at all. You waited and waited and waited... 5:48... 5:54... 5:58... 6:00... he didn't come as he said... as if it was all just a dream you had last night. As if it wasn't real. As if it hadn't happened... you lost in your thoughts while turning around to find him every direction. There was no one, only the sea and you.
You gave up and left.
...
July 17, 1991
I met a guy on the vacation... five days ago on 12th July at Latigo beach. He was a cool guy I met on the last day of my vacation. We talked and had a lot of fun there... he has pretty brown eyes and beautiful hair. I need to write about him before all the memories are gone. I don't want to forget about him. He's the most handsome guy with the most precious soul I have ever met. When he was in the sea, surfing was so amazing. Him and surfing was a bond. All of his friends were nice to me and they had their amazing goals. I wish he still thinks about me honestly even I am not that pretty but he really gets my heart. I can't forget him and I will never forget... but why? Why didn't you come? Why didn't you send me? Why? Why Johnny...? I waited but you didn't come... you didn't...
You close your diary and smile to yourself in tears. Nothing you can do except the memories that have left in your mind. You will never be able to forget him. His smile, his eyes and his spirit. You don't think you will ever find anyone like him anymore. You wish you could go back in that time to see him again, to start it all over again.
How is he now? What is he doing? Is he still live in California? Does he still remember you? These thoughts don't stop coming across your mind. All you can do is imagine, imagine that he is alright, he is still surfing, he is still in California and he is still remember you. And you will never know that your imaginations are true or not...
END (Don't be sad I still have end credits down below)
...
Fun facts: you can skip this part lol. It's not necessary.
The diary part was inspired from my own diary that I wrote about a foreign man I met a year ago at a beach. This is the actual text: Monday, 17 July 2023 I'mma talk about my vacation boy that I met him on 12 July at ____ beach. Damn, he's my type. We accidentally made eye contact two times. He has tanned skin and pretty face. I can't remember him now omg and I have short sighted and that's fucking bad. I couldn't see him clearly. I just know that he's the most handsome boy that I've ever met on this trip. He was in the sea with an old man (his father?) I actually think he has a brother too. I just realized that these two boys were the boys that I adored when I first got to this beach before finding other beaches to swim on this island. Wish he still remembers me. Honestly, I'm not that pretty but he got my heart. I can't get him out of my mind, almost two fucking days now. Author's Note: It's really cringe but I think it's funny so I would like to share with you lol.
I love writing diary because I always forget get things so I think it's nice if I just write them down
I really have a box full of stuff, post card, and letters from my friends. I love collecting them.
My father actually loves Hotel California by Eagles and I do love California too, one of the places that I would like to live.
I wish I had an older brother 😭
Someone told me that being an only child means you have to be good at everything. It used to encourage me but at some point I felt like I'm just a girl you know I can't be good at everything. What are you expecting from me??? It's like the only child/ the oldest child thing if you know you know.
...
End credit? YES.
“Jesus! What time is it??” Johnny shouted at one of his colleagues. “It's only 7am, dude.” It pissed him off. “Fuck!” He had an urgent case this morning at 4:30am. He needed to come to the office and worked on it until the time flew so fast that he didn't notice it at first. “Why you look so hurry, man?" The guy spoke calmly to him. “I gotta go.” He grabbed his things, rushing out of the door and left the office immediately. He got the urgent case and he didn't come to surf this morning like usual. Today is also the day you left and he planned to come and sent you. He didn't even give you his contact which was the worst mistake he ever made.
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It was raining when he arrived at the beach, running down the stairs and you weren't there. He looked around hoping that you might still here, sitting somewhere at the beach but then he realized that it was impossible. You were actually gone and gone forever... he looked around with tears in his eyes, trying to find you. Then, he realized that he will never see you again. The most beautiful woman with the most lovely soul he had ever met. Your laugh, your eyes, your face, your lips, everything about you is breathtaking and he will never forget those things no matter how many years will pass. This beautiful soul will be kept in his heart forever...
END (I think the end credits made it sadder.)
© satlun, 2024 : DO NOT PLAGIARISM OR ANY OTHER WAY OF REPHRASING
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justforbooks · 5 months
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Haruki Murakami
The acclaimed Japanese author’s deceptively simple writing combines fantasy and reality in stories of everything from missing cats to dystopian histories via fantasy thrillers and meditations on love.
Japan’s bestselling living novelist Haruki Murakami started writing aged 30 and became a literary sensation in 1987 when his fifth novel Norwegian Wood was published. His mixture of realistic and dreamlike narratives has earned him a dedicated fanbase, and his name is often floated as a contender for the Nobel prize in literature. If you’re new to him, or want to re-read his greatest hits, here are some places to start.
The entry point
Murakami’s novels can be crudely separated into two categories: the fantastic and the realist – although many fall somewhere in between. Published in 1987, Norwegian Wood lacks the otherworldly strangeness that has come to characterise much of Murakami’s most popular work. Instead the novel is a deceptively simple reminiscence of young love. Landing on a German runway, narrator Toru Watanabe hears the titular Beatles song and is transported back to his college days and turbulent love affairs with two different women. Nostalgic and sweet, Norwegian Wood is Murakami’s most accessible novel, and the book that transformed the author into a literary superstar in Japan.
If you only read one
The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle is peak Murakami, and features many of the things the author is known for (Mysterious women! Vanished cats! Phone sex! Spaghetti!). Unemployed thirtysomething Toru Okada is looking for his missing cat and missing wife when he sleepwalks into a wild goose-chase of increasingly bizarre events. “The best way to think about reality,” he declares, is “to get as far away from it as possible.” Part detective story, part nightmarish Alice in Wonderland, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle becomes a story about Japanese history, bizarre mysteries and red herrings. Abstract, infuriating and very funny, it is Murakami at his most beguiling.
If you’re in a rush
If you want to make a critically acclaimed film, adapt a Murakami short story. The South Korean thriller Burning took Murakami’s story Barn Burning as its foundations, while, more recently, Ryūsuke Hamaguchi won an Academy Award for his adaptation of Drive My Car. Some of Murakami’s finest storytelling can be found in his microcosmic worlds. Sleep, published in the New Yorker in 1992 and included in the short story collection The Elephant Vanishes, was the first time Murakami wrote from the perspective of a woman and the result is stunning. The story offers a character study of a devoted wife who is suffering from a sleeplessness that is not quite insomnia. Murakami frequently – and justifiably – receives criticism for how he writes female characters, but Sleep is a brilliant story that uses the liminality of the night to evoke the unease of being a woman in a patriarchal society.
The memoir
Murakami’s biography could be the backstory for one of his protagonists. The author was running a jazz club, turned 30, and quit to become a novelist. The rest is bestseller history. Murakami’s slim memoir, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, offers an insight into his diligent creative practice. “Most of what I know about writing I’ve learned through running every day,” he explains. Only seriously taking to running in his 30s, Murakami reflects on the comparisons between marathon-running and writing , and demystifies the author’s practice as regimented routine, endurance training and occasionally injury inducing.
It’s worth persevering with
Across three volumes and over a thousand pages, 1Q84 is Murakami’s most ambitious novel to date, encompassing cults, assassins, parallel realities, two moons and creatures that emerge from the mouth of a dead goat. Following twin story threads of fated lovers, Murakami’s epic is set in a version of 1984 that slips between the familiar and unfamiliar. While 1Q84 is certainly sprawling, it’s structured like a maze with the occasional trick mirror and trap door. It was bemoaned by some critics as a disappointment when first published in 2011 and its length may be intimidating to the casual Murakami reader, but descend into 1Q84’s world and you’ll be treated to a page-turning thriller, a tender love story, a pulpy mystery and a meditation on the metaphysical mysteries of a world not dissimilar to our own.
The one that deserves more attention
After its publication in English in 2001, Sputnik Sweetheart left the orbit of Murakami’s more popular works. It’s a shame because the novel offers a refreshing variation of the author’s most predictable trope: women vanishing. Narrated through the eyes of a typical Murakami narrator (male, pining, passive), at the heart of Sputnik Sweetheart is a lesbian romance between Sumire, a wannabe Jack Kerouac, and Miu, an older, refined wine importer. Lusting after Miu, Sumire begins to shed her bohemian exterior, transforming herself to become Miu’s chic personal assistant. The unequal romance soon develops into self-obliteration as Sumire seems fated to be forever Miu’s sputnik – orbiting her from the isolation of space – before she disappears. Sputnik Sweetheart’s yearning romanticism is as tender as it is uncomfortable.
The masterpiece
Departing from his typical thirtysomething, whisky-drinking, jazz-listening protagonists, Kafka on the Shore is narrated by 15-year-old runaway Kafka Tamura. Fleeing his violent, dead father after receiving an Oedipal prophecy, Kafka finds refuge working in a small coastal town’s library. Alternating with Kafka’s tale is Satoru Nakata’s, an older man who lost his childhood memories at the end of the second world war, but instead gained the ability to converse with cats. Nakata is forced on the run after he crosses paths with a sinister cat-catcher who goes by the name Johnnie Walker. Both characters embark on vision quests, with one foot in everyday Japan and the other in a magical undercurrent that delivers the characters to each other. Murakami has said that the urgency behind his stories is “missing and searching and finding”. Kafka on the Shore eludes genre pigeonholing, and instead exemplifies its author’s ability to map a dreamscape labyrinth, one with its own strange poetic justice.
Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?
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crutchieeeeee crutchie for the ask game
CRUTCHIEEEEEEEE
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How I feel about this character: Crutchie Morris is so special to me. He was my favorite character the very first time I watched Newsies because he's such an upbeat person while simultaneously being snarky and just a little devious. (I still really want to know what Crutchie did to that sauerkraut...) I think he and Sarah are similar in that they are both people who choose kindness, but Crutchie is stubbornly so. He's resilient and refuses to let his spirit be broken. He has polio and he's Jewish (sorry Matthew Duckett but you were wrong.) Also everyone thinks he's an angel when in reality Crutchie is the biggest prankster in the lodging house.
All the people I ship romantically with this character: I don't personally ship Crutchie with anyone. I think he loves all of his friends, but I don't think he likes any of them romantically.
My non-romantic OTP for this character: Jack and Crutchie! I love how they look out for each other in 92sies and there has got to be a backstory on why they're practically brothers. I also love David and Crutchie's friendship and I wish we'd seen more of Race and Crutchie because I feel like they'd get up to many shenanigans together.
My unpopular opinion about this character: Newsies 1992 wrote Crutchie the best. He's treated just like any other newsboy and the reason why he gets captured isn't because he was "too damn slow" but because he was having the time of his life wreaking havoc and didn't realize that everyone else was leaving. He's also got the line "I don't want nobody carrying me. Never, ya hear?" Which is a much better treatment of his disability than the musical did in my opinion.
One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: Mostly I wish that the musical had treated Crutchie better as I briefly described in the previous question. I also wish that Crutchie had been given a bigger role in the strike itself as he was based on the real 1899 newsboy "Crutch" Morris, who was the secretary of the newsboys' union. Newsies 1992 did have Crutchie "take up a collection" for the strike which was probably a nod to Crutch Morris being the secretary, but I still think they could have done better.
Thank you for asking!
ask game
characters answered: David Jacobs, Jack Kelly, Blink and Skittery, Bumlets and Swifty, Sarah Jacobs, Specs and Dutchy, Les Jacobs
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not7wu · 10 months
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Title: Tonight (Our Fingers Touch the Sky)
Status: Ongoing
Total Word Count: 57.3k in progress
Pairing: SeokjinxReader, Friends to Lovers, The Gang is Here (Platonic)
Rating/Genre: Mature; Idol AU, Canon Divergence, Thriller, Amnesia
Summary: You find yourself in Seoul, Korea with no memory of how you got there.  All you know is that you woke up naked–in Jin’s bed!  And you’re friends with BTS.  You’re told the life you knew is a dream, but you can’t shake the feeling that BTS are hiding something from you.  Whatever it is, you’re determined to get to the bottom of it. 
Preview: He knows your name? Kim motherfucking Seokjin knows your name. “And you’re Kim Seokjin, Worldwide Handsome, also known as Jin of BTS.”
Your word vomit has you wanting to die on the spot. Jin huffs a laugh. “Are you gonna start reciting my birthday, astrological sign, and MBTI results next?”
December 4, 1992. Sagittarius. INTP. You think it, but self preservation has you blessedly silent. His eyes twinkle like he knows what you’re thinking anyway.
Chapter List:
Ch. 1 - Where are you? - f/a/c; 6k
Ch. 2 - The Rules - f/a/c; 5.2k
Ch. 3 - Best Friends - f/a/c; 4.7k
Ch. 4 - A Crappy Day - f/a/c; 5.8k
Ch. 5 - Family - f/a/c/s; 6.5k
Ch. 6 - A Symbiotic Relationship - f/a/c; 6.5k
Ch. 7 - House of Cards - f/a; 6.8k
Ch. 8 - A Trusted Friend - f/a; 5.7k
Ch. 9 - Building Bridges - f/a/c; 4.7k
Ch. 10 - Branded - f/a/c; 5.4k
Ch. 11 -
Add/Remove yourself to the taglist here!
Back to the Multiverse Masterlist!
Warnings: Amnesia, Anxiety, Swearing, Depictions of and Implied Violence, Abandonment Issues, Stalking, Gun Violence, Coma, PTSD, Trauma, Set in 2020 during the Pandemic
A/N: Yallz have no idea how excited I am to finally be sharing the fruits of my labor. This fic is something I wrote during the pandemic in my Baby Army days when the few fanfics I read didn't satisfy me. It took me a while to learn how to navigate to find the good stuff. The ones I stumbled upon were too insta-love/smutty with NO plot; of course this was back when my love for BTS was at the stage of innocent adoration in contrast to where I am now in my delulu derangement. :D
Holed up with my roommate/cousin, "S", and our friends Garrett and Marlena in 2020, I wrote this to pass the time and to entertain them. S is a Jin-bias, so some of the scenes are catered to her.
This is a completed fic that I am rewriting, so don't worry that I'll fall off the face of the earth. The end will come and I hope it will satisfy your Jin loving, plot driven heart! A new chapter will be posted every Monday. I hope you enjoy the fic!
Here's the Youtube / Spotify playlist I listen to on shuffle as I write this.
Also, last but not least, thank you to my betas, @justamomnamedamie and @miksancheese ! I seriously could not do this without you!
Click here if you prefer to read on AO3!
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brookbee · 6 months
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I know people are either following me because I used to post about Star Trek constantly or because I post about Bowie a lot, so here’s some random David Bowie and Star Trek connections I’ve been collecting for the past year or so. This is purely self-indulgent, but if you find this sort of thing interesting, here you go.
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This is from an unpublished interview for Zygote magazine from 1971 where he was discussing the meaning of various songs. The particular song he's talking about here is "The Supermen." In case you don't want to read the full article for context, he mentioned Star Trek to act as a comparison, he was not saying that that was the initial inspiration/meaning.
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This ad has song notes that Bowie wrote for the album Hunky Dory. The one of relevance is “Bewlay Brothers,” which is at the bottom of the list. It says, “Another in the series of David Bowie confessions — Star Trek in a Leather Jacket.”
You might be wondering what this means, well Bowie never really gave a consistent answer as to what this song was about. And according to Ken Scott, the producer of the album, Bowie purposefully wrote it to give a song to Americans who were reading too much into things (this was in the era of the Paul McCartney actually died and was replaced conspiracy lol). Bowie did say at different points that it was more or less about his own half-brother, but who knows if he changed his mind about that.
Although as a side note I will say that some of the lyrics sound like they could be describing Star Trek episodes lol
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My Life With Bowie: Spider From Mars by Woody Woodmansey (drummer for the Spiders From Mars, Bowie’s band during the Ziggy Stardust era). He’s describing the bar in The Rainbow Room, as they were rehearsing for the most elaborate of the Ziggy Stardust concerts in August of 1972.
Mick Ronson talking about the Ziggy Stardust boots, the clip is from the documentary Beside Bowie: The Mick Ronson Story. Angie, in case people don’t know, was Bowie’s first wife.
Side note about this one though, Bowie compared his own boots to wrestler boots (see image below). But Mick’s shoes weren’t far off from the Star Trek boots.
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Book page from Moonage Daydream: The Life and Times of Ziggy Stardust, which was written by David Bowie and photographer Mick Rock.
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Bowie in Brussels in 1978 doing (his best attempt at) the Vulcan LLAP salute, photo by Gie Knaeps.
Because I’m me, I’ve been trying to figure out what song he did this during—with certainty I can say it was during the second half of the set after the intermission. That would make it so that they were either songs from Ziggy Stardust or from Station to Station.
My guess (and it really is only a guess) is that it could have been during “TVC15.” When he performed it live he’d often sing “she’s my main creature feature” and sometimes do devil horns with his fingers and whatnot. Seems like a plausible spot, anyhow. The other one is potentially the song “Ziggy Stardust,” but just based on how he usually performed that one, such as where he’d add gestures and how he tended to convey the emotions of the song, I find it more unlikely.
But I wasn’t there and these are literally just guesses. On the off chance someone was there and that they inexplicably remember this, I would love to know.
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Gates McFadden, before being Beverley Crusher in Star Trek: The Next Generation, was the choreographer for the film Labyrinth, where of course Bowie played Jareth the Goblin King.
And to avoid possible confusion, she was not the choreographer for "Magic Dance" at least when it came to Bowie's moves, as that was Charles Augin. She was, however, the choreographer for "As The World Falls Down" with the ballroom scene.
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Lyrics from one of the Tin Machine albums (Bowie’s band in the late 80s-early 90s, which Bowie wrote most of the lyrics for, minus a few songs).
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Additionally Iman, who Bowie met in 1990 and married in 1992, was in Star Trek: The Undiscovered Country as Martia. She was on set filming at least in April of 1991 in LA, as you can see in this filming schedule I found on an auction website. I don’t know how long she was filming for, though.
(Side note, Bowie was in LA at least towards the end of April/beginning May as he talked about how he and Iman saw the riots that happened then. No I’m not saying he visited the set, since for one Shatner says he never met Bowie, but I still think it’s neat he was generally around when she was filming).
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And a little snippet from one article (the screenshot is from one of those interview compilation books).
It’s not actually that much in the grand scheme of things and more than anything just shows that Bowie was a fan of the show. It should also be remembered that Star Trek wasn’t ever really cited as a huge influence for him in terms of aesthetic, which is a rather common assumption people make, but I thought that these were fun nonetheless. I’m sure I also missed/forgot stuff, so if I come across more I'll probably add to this later on.
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harrisonarchive · 1 year
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The Dark Horse Tour Rolling Stone article/review and its aftermath...
“If you get depressed, you start agreeing with them. If you start agreeing with them then you just go and do yourself in. But I’m, I wouldn’t do that because enough things happened to prove that it’s not exactly how they see it, you know. I mean, one situation with the rock press, for example, was one guy who came to write an article because he disagreed with another article that had been written in his paper. And so he said, ‘I’ve seen, you know, seven of these concerts and I disagree, and I want to write it from my point of view.’ Then his article came out and it was not really good at all, and I thought, well, he was just, just cheating me, you know, just to get in to talk to me. But then he wrote a letter to me and sent what he wrote, and to compare that to what they printed, he said they just cut it out, they just cut out any favorable references to the music or to the response from the audience. [...] These people… who supposedly loved me and I’m supposed to love them, and I see them, they’re just dropping apart at the seams with hate. This is… I’m talking about Rolling Stone, actually, talking about Jan Wenner.“ - George Harrison, radio interview, August 1975 “[Larry] Sloman was so upset he sent Harrison the original unedited draft of the story, to which Harrison responded, according to Sloman, ‘I’m glad you sent me that article, Larry. I thought you were an asshole and then I realized that it was Rolling Stone that was the asshole.‘“ - Sticky Fingers: The Life and Times of Jann Wenner and Rolling Stone Magazine (x) “I was told George Harrison was reluctant to be included in ​Rolling Stone’s​ 25th anniversary portfolio in 1992—something about a mixed review of his 1974 album ​Dark Horse.​ He eventually agreed to a quick, simple portrait, but I wanted so badly to win him over. I knew he was an avid gardener and I had a deep appreciation of Paul Caponigro’s photographs of sunflowers, so I planned to bring some. A few days before our session, I did a shoot with Tom Petty for the same issue. When I told him George was on the fence, he said that the way to win George over was to bring ukuleles. I brought 5. George was quiet but a willing participant. And after the shoot was over, as a gift, he picked up the Martin ukulele and played 20 minutes of Hawaiian love songs for us. The entire team sat down and listened to him. When we were finished, he turned to me and said ‘we’ll meet someday on the avenue,’ and headed to his car with the ukulele—which happened to be the most expensive one. When I told him it was a rental, he said with a wink, ‘You can bill Jann Wenner,’ ​Rolling Stone’s​ editor-in-chief.” - Instagram, February 26, 2021 (x)
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