#i have hope that despite everything there will be some change

[notjustjavierpena]

(Mid)summer Loving

Main Masterpost

A/N: Yes, based on that new picture. I’ll call this my first contribution to getting railed in a sundress season. 

Summary: The last two years of being with Joel has transformed the both of you. Mostly him. For the better. 

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, joel’s kink is being loved and appreciated, long haired joel!!!, healthy joel, established relationship, piv sex, size kink (it's big), rough, loud and desperate sex, dirty talk, praise kink, creampie, railed in a sundress season contribution, they are so soft for each other, bit of aftercare. 

Word count: 3.1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55988128

(Mid)summer Loving

It happens when you hear him through the crowd of people in the community center. Your head whips in his direction, your eyes settling on the crinkles around his eyes as he laughs at something Tommy has said to him. He swirls the whiskey in his glass and downs it with slight difficulty because he is still smiling. 

You are only a table away, sitting with some of the women from your patrol group who gossip about potential suitors in the room, especially amongst the newcomers. However, you don’t really pay attention to what is being said because the love of your life sits across from you. It makes you able to admire him, struck by his transformation since he first came to Jackson and barged into your life. Your heart is so soft for him. 

The most obvious change is the hair. It’s gotten longer, the ends curling slightly in a way that softens his otherwise rugged appearance of big leather boots and tripled layered clothing. He used to have it shorter, and while you loved its fluffy bounce on top of his head whenever it was caught in the wind, it doesn’t compare to how it now frames his face by just brushing his collar in the back. It may be a subtle shift to others but to you, it means that Joel is more at ease with who and where he is, and that he has allowed change to find him.

His beard, too, has filled out. It is now thick and even, not at all the patchy scruff that you noticed the first time he talked to you by the rag pile in the trading center. He’d searched for fabric that could be used for shining the creations that he makes when seeking respite in wood carving. You had noticed the patch that resembled a heart first, your own heart skipping a beat as you forced yourself not to point it out to him immediately. That patch is gone but you’ll spend no time mourning it when the result is Joel looking healthier than ever, almost as if his body has responded to happiness with you by filling in all the gaps that heartbreak had left. 

Then there’s his face. It glows, despite his age, with a newfound youth, the signs of weariness and stress of years lived too hard it once bore completely wiped away. When you first met him, your heart had ached for his tired eyes, bags underneath them revealing all the sleepless nights and the burdens that he carried. The way they shine when they look into yours has your heart at ease and you can only hope he feels the same. 

Around you, the women keep chatting, talking animatedly and giggling while you sip your drink and stay silent until they are nothing but a low hum in the background. 

You only snap out of it when your name is said out loud. You furrow your brow, “Sorry?”

“I said that you don’t have to worry about things like this,” one of them chirps happily, “You already got your man.”

“Guess not, guess you’re right,” you chuckle softly and start to feel shy. You have never been one to be glaringly obvious in your happiness to the point where you display it at every opportunity but then Joel came along. He may worry about the gap of years between the two of you, often feeling undeserving of your love and attention but you only wish that he could see himself from your point of view. To you, he is everything. He doesn’t see how his presence calms and grounds you, how he makes you feel safe even in a world beyond repair. In his embrace, you feel even the biggest of anxieties and the worst of your challenges shrink into nothing. All he has to do is put his gentle, calloused hands on you and talk to you in that familiar southern drawl, and then your mind quiets down instantaneously.

However, if not his hands or his voice, his loving gaze also seems to do the trick. He suddenly turns his head in your direction, catching your eyes, and the sound of the lively conversations from each table mutes to nothing. He smiles at you and mouths a ‘you okay?’ at you. 

‘Save me’ you decide to mouth back at him, making a face to see him smile with amusement. He slaps his brother’s back before putting both hands on the table to push himself to stand. You didn’t think he would take it seriously but just the sight of seeing him approach you makes you want to go home with him. 

“Ready to go, honey?” He asks when he reaches your table, placing a hand on your shoulder and gently squeezing. 

“Hi Joel,” your friend group says in unison.

“Ladies,” he nods and they giggle like schoolgirls, “Gotta get this one home.”

You shake your head with a little smile at their reaction. Then you swing your legs over the side of the chair. Joel helps you up and a moment after having said your goodnights, you leave together like you’ve done for a few years now. 

Outside, people are scattered across the town square where a huge bonfire has been erected in the spot where the Christmas tree usually stands. Today is the annual midsummer celebration. Jackson is decorated with bundles of flowers that have replaced the painted eggs that tell people it is Easter. You smile at the memory of Ellie having been forced to join in on getting people in the spirit of Easter which had resulted in you trying to guess which of the eggs hanging from the sky had been crafted by the angry teen. You had decided that it might’ve been the one painted completely black.

Now, bright colors from nature hover above your head instead as you make your way down the main road. Joel holds your hand all the way home. He strokes the back of it with his thumb, feeling no pressure to fill up the silence between you as it has reached a point where it is comfortable. 

When you reach your shared house, Joel stops you by the front door instead of opening it for you in the gentlemanly way he always does. He stands in front of you, the porch light softening his features as he gazes at you.

“You seemed a bit distracted with your friends tonight,” he notes, “Is everythin’ alright?” 

“Just thinking about how lucky I am,” you answer with a smile, your voice sincere, “To have you.”

“I’m the lucky one, baby,” Joel huffs out a little laugh of disbelief, trying to brush off how flattered he always feels each time you say things like this. He gathers your hand in both of his, lifting it to kiss the back of it a few times, “Best fuckin’ thing that ever happened after the world ended.” 

“Don’t let Ellie hear that,” you tease gently. In your chest, your heart hammers against your ribs from being loved by him. 

“I’d never dream of it,” he steps closer with his eyes burning to get closer to you. You see them darken slightly as desire fills them and your heart jumps into your throat at the realization of what he wants. 

You. 

He wants you. 

That’s the one thing that has also changed since you met him; he has become much more untameable when he has you around. Who knew that his stamina was so impressive? Who knew that Joel Miller getting a confession of love - whether it consisted of the actual words or simply was said in your actions - would have him dragging you to somewhere private as soon as possible? 

“I love you, Joel Miller,” you say dreamily, pulling the trigger, “To the day that I die.”

And then suddenly Joel rips the door open so roughly that you’re afraid it might come off its hinges, pulls you inside along with him and slams it shut behind the both of you afterward. He locks it without hesitation, not about to be interrupted by any of your neighbors even if it’s most likely that everyone is out and about the town to be social. 

You are pressed up against the door next, his broad hands resting on your hips as he holds you against it. He bunches up the skirt of your sundress, groping your sides on top of the fabric, and you sling an arm around his back. Your other arm reaches up so you can cup the back of his head, your fingers sliding into the hair there. He has the perfect length for pulling these days - you should know - but you’ll wait for the right moment. 

His lips nearly bruise yours with how hard he kisses you, beard scratching your skin as he practically eats at your mouth to the point where your head swims and your belly swirls with hours of suppressed desire. You need him now, already soaked through your underwear and ready for him to be inside of you.

“Fuck me,” you whine against his lips, heart beating rapidly in your chest. So much that your breathing is already uneven, “Please, Joel, please.”

“S’alright, baby, I know whatcha need,” he rasps as his lips messily start descending on your chin, all the way across your jaw until his mouth attaches to your throat. You let your head bump against the door with a breathy moan, giving him access to bruise your neck too. He creates a purple mark that you will try to hide tomorrow during patrol to avoid interrogation on how Joel Miller is in bed. Only you can know. 

Your skirt falls down the slight amount it has been pulled up when Joel goes to unbuckle his leather belt. The noise of the metal sends a shiver through you, anticipation rising to your cheeks by heating them up underneath no touch. You look down to see the belt hanging open, him shoving the denim down around his thighs afterward and following up with his briefs too. 

The sight of his cock makes your mouth water. He is fully hard already, standing into the air at full attention and threatening to smear your pretty dress with his precome by poking into your belly if he dares get closer. You moan pathetically and he shushes you gently. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he soothes you like he would a child that has scraped their knee. He curls his fingers in the fabric of your dress once more before hiking it up along your thighs until he can stuff the bottom of the skirt into the top of your dress, effectively holding it up so it doesn’t fall down over your soaked panties again. 

You grab at the sides of your underwear to shimmy out of them but Joel doesn’t exercise enough patience to wait for you to step out of them, so he hooks his fingers into the front. He finds your eyes when he feels how wet the cotton fabric is, doesn’t directly say anything about it but just shows you how full-blown his pupils are at the realization. Without warning, he yanks your panties to the side. 

Satisfied with his work, he makes you gasp as he bends his knees to reach down and splay his strong hands on the back of your thighs. He lifts you off the ground and wraps you around him, pressing his knee into the door to hold you up while guiding his throbbing cock into you. You moan desperately at the initial sting, brows furrowing with slight pain as he sheaths himself inside of you to the hilt. 

“Oh my God,” you whimper, letting his name fall from your lips in a helpless chant as he pulses from how your walls choke him as you strain to take him like you always do in the beginning. He might just split you open right here in the hallway when he starts fucking you. 

“Shh, you can take it,” he whispers with the most brutally gentle peck on your zipped lips, “It’s okay. She knows it’s big, baby, but she can take it. I always fuck ya real good, don’t I?” 

You nod helplessly, and fuck you, he does. It’s fast and hard and dirty. The poor wooden door rattles alongside the jingle of his belt buckle with each slam of his hips, the doorknob painfully gnawing into your lower back, and you fear the fabric of your underwear will snap from the strain that is put on it as it sits to the side. Sometimes you think you might even cut a hole in some of your pairs with how often Joel, still two years later, rushes to get his cock into you. There’s something oddly satisfying and offensive about just being able to bend over and let him see that all he has to do is push in. 

“That’s it, look at me, baby, such a good girl f’me,” he praises to get you back to him, not here to lose your attention to the way his cock feels inside of your tight heat. Your eyes settle on him again, your mouth hanging open to elicit pathetic gasps each time he knocks the wind out of you by driving his hips up into you and effectively pounding your g-spot. His face is so close to you; you can feel his breath and share it with him, can study every little imperfection in the form of tiny scars and dark lines that you hadn’t been able to see earlier from your seat a few tables over. 

“Joel,” you pant, digging your heels into the small of his back, clinging on desperately and angling your hips as he has his way with you. The slight adjustment has him going deeper, touching something inside of you that ignites the first sparks of an orgasm. Your nails claw, dig and scratch at his back in ways that would have been enough to draw blood if he wasn’t wearing a shirt, “Fuck, baby! Don’t— ngh, don’t stop.”

“You feel so good,” he replies with a groan, most likely powering through the exhaustion and strain on his body to make you feel even better. He is everywhere on you, his hands on your thighs, gripping and squeezing. He is everywhere in you too, his cock twitching inside of you each time you cry his name.

“I’m—“ you sob.

“Let go, baby, I can feel ya,” he growls when you dance around the edge of your orgasm because your fingers on both hands tangle into his beautifully chocolate hair, yanking harshly as impending pleasure knocks the breath out of your lungs. Your skin burns, your whole system halts and goes into overdrive at the same time until all you can do is shout silently at the ceiling. Your walls clench in mind-altering ecstasy then and your quietness is over, replaced by a relieved whine as you come on his dick. It is intense from how fast you’ve gotten there since he entered you, your body writhing as it is held against the wall. He fucks you through it, has you wailing as he chases his own high. 

You cradle his head during his last few thrusts, feeling his damp breath against your shoulder as he buries himself inside of your spent cunt and comes hard. It feels so good when he groans as he fills you up, the sound vibrating through his entire body. You whimper at the ceiling with the way he pulses deliciously with each breathy moan until he has no more to give you. 

He leans all his weight into you as he comes down again, holding you in place with his chest against yours to make sure that you won’t fall down and drag him with you. He gives you a moment and places a string of lazy kisses on your lips until he slips out of you with a soft sound. 

Carefully, he places you back down on the floor and eyes you as he does it to be certain you won’t collapse. He moves off of you when it feels safe to do so. 

“I say it back?” He asks as he leans against the door with you. Automatically, you tilt your head towards him. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, turning his head a second later to fully look at your disheveled state. You have a hand on your chest to calm your breathing but it still matches your fluttering heartbeat. He still aches between your legs.

You look back at him, awaiting his words with short breaths, “Say what?”

He makes a gesture to the both of you, “Before what we just did happened. I tell ya that I love you too?” 

“No?” Your reply is almost a question. 

“Shame on me,” he smiles and turns his whole body so that he faces you completely, shoulder against the door. His eyes soften as he reaches out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. The warmth of his touch is nice when the sweat has started to cool you down, and you lean into his palm, feeling the roughness of his calloused skin against you. 

“Shame on me, indeed,” he murmurs, eyes on your slightly open mouth, “Because I do love ya. More than I can understand sometimes.”

“You don’t have to say it back every time, Joel. I know,” you try to brush off how much your body and mind buzz at the same time. 

He shakes his head slightly, his eyes never leaving your mouth, “No, I do needa say it. You deserve to hear it. I love you.”

You nod and reach to hold his wrist when he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your open mouth. Just a few minutes ago, the now-careful hands had been rough on your skin and his words had dripped with sin.

“Now, how ‘bout I take you to bed?” He asks and pulls your dress’ skirt out of the top, watching it tumble down and fall back into place around your knees. 

While you wait for him to get dressed again, fatigue seems to finally have caught up with you because you feel like you might collapse in your hallway at that suggestion. When it’s safe to do so, you let yourself fall into his arms and he catches you without hesitation. 

He scoops you up, goes upstairs with you in his arms, undresses you, washes you down with a warm flannel, and gets you into bed. You curl up on your side and after a while, after hearing his boots come off and the shuffling of clothes, the bed dips from his weight. 

The warmth of his body against your back lulls you to sleep. Oh, how simply he loves you. Forever doesn’t seem like a lot to ask for.

.

.

.

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[lovrre]

Agreement prt1

Art Donaldson x Fem black reader

Warnings: cursing, infidelity(kinda), slight smut (fingering) sub ish Art. Slight he loves her more trope, needy Art and probably some other stuff

Word count: 2k

Summary: Despite being engaged to one of the top and richest tennis players in the US, you feel unfulfilled. But everything changes when you transfer schools and meet Art Donaldson, who just can’t quit you.

Author note: GUYS GUYS, PLEASE DON’T KILL ME. MY WRITERS BLOCK HAS BEEN SO BAD YOU DONT UNDERSTANDDD, But I’m finishing all my requests and unfinished fics soon so stay tuned. 😚

Sitting on the bed in your brand new silk pajamas, you found yourself distracted, just like you had been the day before and the day before that. You played with The edge of the book you were attempting to read,mindlessly repeated the last sentence over and over in your head trying to retain anything. The loud television and the whirring of the ceiling fan only added to the chaos. Plus the freezing cold air conditioning of the hotel room made it impossible to concentrate.

In a desperate attempt to regain some semblance of focus, you clumsily reached for the remote, hoping to silence at least one of the distractions. your eyes falling on your fiancé who was sleeping peacefully, his dark hair all messy, in his crisp white t-shirt that matched perfectly to the expensive hotel sheets, he looked so sweet,so innocent. You thought if he slept more, maybe everything could work out

Mike slept while snuggled into your side. Like he often did when you two shared a bed, You had attempted to remove him several times but every time he ended right back at your side so you gave up, In any other scenario his action would seem romantic but they only made you feel worse than you were already feeling. In an effort to relieve some guilt you liked to reminded yourself your engagement was never out of love but business. But then again the line did blur in the beginning of your relationship. Before you left for Stanford, you and Mike got caught up in the act of pretending be in love.

After that you could never really tell real from fake with him, he didn’t like you talking to other men. He’d shower you with really expensives grift but then leave town and not answer your calls or text for days. But when no one was watching he’d try to hug and kiss you. The whole thing was confusing, You had known idea how he persived your relationship but you knew You Felt guilty, without all the technicallys, you knew that you still lied,

The people ate up the role you and Mike played. occasionally you’d have to leave campus and go out in public holding hands or sharing kisses in the rain. But it was all for show, at least on your end. Your Dad made sure to reminded you That, it was the love sick tennis player in love with his coaches daughter that sold tickets. kept the stands full of women hoping to catch the world win romances in action. Also Brought in a large number of his clientele. He promised It wouldn’t be forever unless you wanted to be. And Really how could you complain? 20 years old engaged to One of the wealthiest and most talented tennis players in the world and he wasn't bad looking either. Before all this, you weren't too keen on love anyway, so what were you really missing out on?

~~~

Ten months before

Patrick serves but Art's attention is elsewhere. The ball zooms past Art for the second time, prompting Patrick to turn around and finally see who's behind him. His gaze lands on you, playing tennis alone on a smaller court. The sun shining off your smooth, glistening skin, and your pink tennis dress gracefully flowing with each jump and run.

"Oh, I get it," Patrick chuckles, glancing back at Art. "She's hot. You should talk to her, maybe offer her a lesson. She could use it," Patrick suggests, looking back at you as you let another tennis ball from the machine fly past you . "I think I've seen her somewhere before," Patrick mutters, tapping his racket against his leg.

Still in a daze, Art jogged over to your court. "Oh, you're serious," Patrick murmured watching as he went over to you following closely behind him. "Hi," Art greets, slightly out of breath walking up to the net. "Hi?" you respond, slightly confused, giving him a small wave.

"Are you new here?"

"To the school or the court?" You ask

"Both."

"I'm new to both” you say a little breathless wiping sweat from your forehead.

“I just transferred," you explain.

"Where did you go before?"

"A small community college in Virginia."

"What about tennis?"

"You have a lot of questions," you laugh, tapping your tennis racket against your leg.

"Im just curious “Art jokes.

"I'm just doing this because my fiancé is a tennis player. I thought I'd try to learn," you reveal.

“Finance?” Art questions.

“Yep”

“ how old are you like 20?”

“ actually 19, I turn twenty in a couple months”

“And you're getting married?” Art asked clearly dumbfounded

“Yes” you laugh at his forwardness

", is he a pro or college?", Art asked, assuming the answer would be college.

“Pro," you replied, letting your curls fall freely from your hair tie. Art couldn't help but admire how beautiful you were,too young to be tied down

"Anyone we would know?" Art asks following you as you walk over to the bench with your tennis bag. "Hmm, maybe," you hum, sitting down to tie your shoe. "Mike Fitts."

"Your fiancé is Mike Fitts!" Patrick exclaims a little too loudly. "Mhmm," you confirm, starting to tie your other shoe. "If Mike Fitts is your fiancé, why are you here?"

"Are you referring to the court or the school?" you ask, looking up at both Art and Patrick.

"Both," Art and Patrick respond in unison.

You chuckled as you stuffed your tennis racket into your bag. "Well, whether I'm engaged or not, I always planned to graduate college. And Mike is too busy right now to teach me, so I'm trying to teach myself."

The two of them nod in understanding as you stand up. "It was really nice meeting both of you, but I have class," you announce, throwing your tennis bag over your shoulder. "By the way, it would be great if you guys could keep the whole fiancé thing on the down low. I'm trying to keep it as quiet as possible for now."

"Yeah, no problem," one of them replies.

"Of course," the other adds.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it," you say giving them a small smile before turning around to leave the court.

just as you're about to walk away, Art calls out after you, "Wait! You said you're trying to learn, right? we could coach you if you want” Patrick gives him a look and Art ignores it waiting for your response.

You pause, considering the offer.

”the both of you?” you asked gesturing between them. Art gives you a nod. at that moment The risk didn't seem too big so you said

. "Sure," with small shrug

"How about tomorrow at 12:30?" you suggest, checking the pink Bvlgari watch Mike got you.

"Perfect," Art responds with a shit eating smile

“Ok see you guys ” you laugh walking out the court

~~~~~~

“Yeah see” Patrick says reading a newspaper. “Olympic coach, Dylan yLn, Daughter engaged to Olympics gold medalist Mike fitts” Patrick reads next to a photo of you and Mike smiling as you showed off your huge

engagement ring. “She wasn’t bull shitting”

“Let me see” Art says grabbing the newspaper. “She didn't have on her engagement ring when we saw her...” Art trails off

“You can't be serious” Patrick laughs

“What?”

“She’s engaged Art, not to anyone either,” Patrick leaned in on the table so only he could hear. “she’s engaged Mike Fitts!”

“I didn't say anything,” Art defends

“ you don't have to” Patrick says stealing a fry off Arts plate plopping it in him mouth.

”I know you,”

~~~~~

After that day, everything seemed to blend together. Art and Patrick dedicated themselves to training you throughout the weekdays for three entire months until you got tired of it and decided on once a week. You told Mike you found a coach but never told him who. Since they were kinda the only people you knew in the entire school, the three of you grew close fast. You started going out to bars and parties together. you had your most memorable college moments with the two of them. And then, your birthday arrived. Patrick had left for some torment and it was just you and Art.

You two were just having so much fun that night. On thing led to another And before you realized it, the two of you were constantly having “fun together”. It didn't matter where - in the dorm, in the shower, or even on the floor. It was bad, but you two couldn't stop

Trying to clear your mind you Let out a sigh. you carefully remove Mike from your side sitting up to taking a sip of you're water on the nightstand. Trying to ignore the ache of your core. This is how you spent every night away from him, needy, uncomfortable. You heard a knock at the door which almost caused you to spill water on yourself. You Quickly put your drink down and run to answer it before the person could knock again careful to be quiet not to wake up Mike.

You swung the door open to find Art standing there, hair slightly damp, with huge smile on his face. "Are you out of your mind?" you whisper, stepping out of the room and shutting the door quietly behind you. You can't help but notice his thin athletic hoodie and gym shorts. Slightly wet clinging to his skin as if he just stepped out of the shower.

"It's past one ,"Art huffed out , his voice filled with urgency and desire as he leaned in for a kiss. his hand gently cradling the side of your face in the process.

When the realization of what was happening washed over you, you pulled away, but still stayed close enough to feel his breath against your skin. "Art," you breathed out, eyes darting down the hall to check if anyone saw. Your hand instinctively found its place on his strong chest, you savored the feeling and the look of your manicured nails there, not knowing when you be able to do it again.

"I like these," Art hummed, playing with the hem of your pajama shorts. He rolled the fabric between his fingers, his big hand gracing you thighs in the process. The little touch sent shivers down your spine. You somehow composed yourself pushing him away gently with your index finger, creating some distance between you two.

He looked at you with sad eyes like a rejected puppy. "Mike’s sleeping inside," you whisper, worried someone could hear. "What does that mean?"

There was a long pause as you carefully choose your next words. Art stared at you intently, trying to decipher your expression. "You slept with him?” Art asks, as if he already knew the answer.

"No, I didn't sleep with him!” You whisper yelled, “He just showered and fell asleep," you explained,

"What's bothering you then?"

"I feel guilty."

"You didn't feel guilty at Stanford."

"Mike wasn't at Stanford."

“You care about Mike's feelings now ?" Art's asks furrows his brow, his voice filled with a mix of confusion and hurt.

" I don’t know… he’s been nicer lately and were supposed to be married in three days”

“You’re actually thinking about going through with it?” Art asked the hurt now evident in his voice.

“There’s nothing I can do now, I signed contracts, this isn’t just about us anymore I’ve told you this”

“What about the private investors?”

"That's just a 'what if,' a perfect 'what if,' but we don't even know if he's seeing someone."

“ If I win tomorrow?”

“Art If you win are lose tomorrow it doesn’t change anything, my Dad expects me at the alter on Sunday regardless, nothings gonna change that”

“But you don’t love him ”

“ I could” your words come out more a question, maybe a hope. “I loved you?”

“You love me” Art corrects

"There's too much at stake now, Art. This is my father's career. We don't come from money, this is all he has."

“You honestly believe this will ruin his career?”

“It could” you reply with a small shrug your voice cracking slightly.

“It won’t” Art response

“You don’t know that”

“ Don’t do this ” Art whispered closing the small space between you. He sounded so tortured, like he was pleading with you.

you hadn't realize it but tears welled in your eyes Threatening to spill any moment. When You blinked an a tear fell down your cheek. Art tenderly brushed it away with his thumb. The stress of the last two weeks had finally caught up to you. “it wasn’t supposed to be this hard” you murmured, your voice barely audible, tears streaming down your face as Art wiped them away.

“Do you love me?” his questions sounded genuine but you knew, he already knew the answer. ”more than i’d too” you joke, using the back of your hand to dry your eyes.

“Then let me make you feel better,” Art whispered leaning down so he was directly above your ear.

“You’re right about what you said earlier, Mike wasn’t there at Stanford”. He paused for a second moving a piece of your hair out the way, “I was,” he hummed brushing his face against yours “just me and you” he whispered leaving a trail of kisses on the outside of your earlobe down your neck. Causing Your breath catch in your throat .“We had fun right?” Art question, his voice deep and breathy causing you to instinctively press your legs together as you leaned back against the door. “Art” you mumble trying to shake the sexual haze that was swirling inside you.

“I missed you” he whispered his free hand slinking up the side of you short griping your thigh, hiking your leg up slightly. “So bad…All day”

“we can't” you manage to breathe out unconvisingly.

“I’ll beg,”

“Art” you warned

“I’ll do anything baby” he mumbles leaving slowly kisses on your neck. “Anything you want me to” he says kissing under your chin. “ I need you” he hums kissing down your neck, ”don’t you need me?” Art asked kissing below your ear. You don't respond giving small nodd biting the inside of your lip. “Can I hear it?” Art asked, the way his voice sounded so desperate, Damn near whiney had you looking for friction. ”I need you so fucking bad” you basically moan pushing your body against his.

“I love you so much you don't understand” Art said smiling against you cheek. sliding his free hand down the front of your shorts. He rubs his fingers through your folds collecting your wetness on his fingers. You throw your head back with a quiet moan, quickly biting your lip to silence yourself. “Fuck your so wet” Art groans before pulling his hand from your shorts, sucking his fingers clean like it was second nature. You clenched around nothing at the sight.

“I missed that taste” he groans returning his hand to your heat. “Can I make you cum right here” Art huffed out peeping down the hall.

"Yea,” you breathed out, nodding your head feverishly. He could have asked you to drive to the moon in that moment, and you would have said yes. Art slowly pushed two fingers inside of you creating a medium pace before bringing his thumb to rub your clit, you moan lifting your hips to meet his fingers. “Fuck I could eat you out right here” Art groaned watching you Practically fuck yourself on his fingers. “Promise me you won't ever let him see you like this” Art goans leaving kisses on your collar done. “this is mine”

”You can bearly hear a word he's saying the feeling of his thumb on your clit and finger damn near touching you cervix was too much to bear. “I’m gonna cum” you moaned out grabbing Arts shoulder hard in an effort to ground yourself. “I can feel it,” Art breathed pressing his forehead against yours. He presses down harder on your clit causing you to buck into his fingers, letting out a loud moan You cum. his movement don't falter, he continues to pump them in and out while still rubbing your clit until he feels like you've finally had enough.

he removes his fingers from your pussy returning them to his mouth. “I’ll never get tired of that” Art laughs leaning in for a kiss, you return it, taste yourself on his lips. He gently places you leg back on the floor and you stumbled slightly grading his shoulder for balance. He instantly goes to your waist holding you steady. “You ok?” Art ask slight consern on his face. You don't respond afraid of what your voice would sound like after an orgasm like that.

You nod with a smile and Art led you to the hotel room directly next to yours, pulling out a key card from his pocket with a grin.

“You didn't,” you exclaimed as he opened the door.

“I did,” he replied, motioning for you to enter.

“How did you even know our room number?” you ask, stepping inside.

“I have my ways,” he answered, closing the door behind you.

“How did you afford this?” you asked, looking around.

“Are you going to keep ask questioning or are you going to take of your clothes” Art laughs , watching as you sit on the bed.

“You first,” you countered, settling back .

“Yes ma’am,” Art chuckled, starting to undress.

~~~~

Morning arrives and you found yourself back in your original room. Mike was in the bathroom getting ready while you fix your dress in the mirror of the bedroom. As you adjust the straps, you notice a hickey you hadn't seen before, one you forgot to cover up after coming back last night. You laid your hair over it and walk towards the bathroom to retrieve your makeup bag, slightly tripping as your sore legs gave out on you. "You good?" Mike asked, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, I think I'm just sore from tennis practice," you say, reaching past him to get your makeup bag.

"You know no one expects you to play," Mike laughs while drying his hair with a towel. "I'm not doing it for anyone, I want to learn," your words come out more offended than you intended. "I just mean you could spend your time doing something else."

"Like what?" You respond plainly, walking out of the bathroom back to the mirror. "Like calling your dad and asking him what time he'll be here," Mike says from the now open bathroom. "Is your phone not working?" You asked rhetorically, pulling out your concealer . "I don't want to fight today, okay," Mike Replies sternly, looking at you through the reflection of the mirror. "This is a big match," he mumbles while running his toothbrush under the water.

"I thought you said it was going to be 'nothing,'" you chuckle dryly, applying the concealer as his face was turned. "It is, but from what your Dad's been saying, he's been getting good. So I'd like to be on my A-game and not have you trying to start shit."

"Whatever you want honey" you respond, quietly laughing in disbelief. He had resorted right back to his old ways,How could you ever agree to marry someone like him, someone so vastly different from the man you spent the night with.

~~~~

soon as you and Mike were finished getting ready, your father called you to come downstairs to join him for breakfast. You and Mike both stood in line, slightly overdressed, picking out your favorite breakfast items. Mike only getting avocado and toast due to his strict diet. Suddenly, you heard a familiar laughter and turned around to see Art chatting with your father near the entrance. Your heart sank as your father motioned for you both to come over. After dropping off your plates, you and Mike walked towards them, feeling Mike's hand slip around your waist.

"I'd like you to meet someone," your father announced with a smile, putting his arm around Art's shoulder. "This is Art Donaldson," he introduced, "the man I'm competing against today." Mike stated extending his hand for a handshake, and Art reciprocated. Your stomach churned at the sight. "This is Mike, you know him, he's also my daughter's fiancé." Your father says with a smile.

"Stressful, huh?" Art jokes. "Oh, you have no idea," your Dad replies, laughing. "You're both at the same college, right? Stanford?" your Dad asked, nodding towards you. “maybe you could try your luck at training her because I just can't get through," your dad jokes. Art's eyes rake over you, as if looking at you for the first time. "It be my pleasure" Art smiles, looking directly at you. You to discreetly warn him with your eyes but You notice Mike's grip on your waist tighten, clearly not pleased. "Actually, I've been training y/n already, she's improving every day," Mike says, planting a quick kiss on your head.

"Really?" Art inquires, trying to keep up the act to the best of his abilities. "Monday through Friday," Mike replies with a smug grin. “How do you manage with your Busy schedule?” Art asks tilting his head to the side slightly in the process.

“You find time for the people you love,” Mike says with a fake smile. You had to physically hold back your laugh. But you played it off as wiping your face. He had taken a line straight from media training. Silence filled the air as the two have a silent conversation with their eyes.

“Well I wanted to introduce all of you, as I will officially be coaching Art starting next fall,"

Your Dad says in an attempt to break the tension. But it only makes it worse, Somehow Mike's grip on you tightened even more, now you were concerned he’d leave a bruise . "When did you make this decision?" Mike asked, his face showing no emotion but you could tell he was angry. "two weeks ago, and I've been waiting for the right moment to properly introduce you two. I know the timing is awkward with the match, but it's better to do it now than later."

Mike doesn’t say anything giving an expressionless nod. There was another awkward pause before you decided to speak up. "It was nice meeting you…Art?" you trail off , purposely sounding unsure. He nodded with a knowing smile. "But our food is getting cold," you joked, trying to escape the suffocating tension. "I wouldn't want to keep the couple from their food," Art said, while a smiling again only looking directly at you. You wanted to scream, he was being so obvious and the way Mike was already acting, you knew you wouldn’t hear the end of it. "You two eat, I have to go handle some things, I won’t be long" your father said, gesturing for you and Mike to sit at the table before walking off with Art.

Once the two of you sit back at the table you feel caught. "I don't want you near that guy," Mike says, taking a sip of his coffee. You roll your eyes and stab at your scrambled eggs. “He was basically eye fucking you the whole time, and it doesn’t help that your dress is so tight”

“I think you forget sometimes this isn’t real,” you reply, taking a bite.

"Lower your voice," Mike warns, glancing around to see if anyone heard.

"You didn't care about it being real when you accepted the gifts," he scoffs, "or in Virginia."

"It was once, Mike. And every day, you make me regret it."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. You don't get to control me just because you buy me shit. Anyone can buy me shit."

“I told you i’m not doing this with you today” Mike laughs dryly standing up from the table. "I'll see you later, okay babe?" he says a bit louder, forcing a fake smile as he plants a kiss on your head before walking away. You try your best not to flinch when he touches you. Once he's gone, your phone buzzes, and you glance down to see an unsaved number. It's a text from Art.

“meet me at the restaurant next door in 20, alone.”

Author note : GUYS FEEL FREE TO COMMENT I LOVE READING COMMENTS

#black reader #art donaldson #art donaldson smut #challengers #challengers fanfic #art donaldson x reader #Art Donaldson x black reader #Art Donaldson x black female #art donaldson x female reader

[gardenschedule]

What Happened In India?

(or around that time...)

Before

Shortly before we were due to leave for India John spent the weekend with Derek Taylor, a former journalist who had become the Beatles' press spokesman and a good friend to us all. He, his wife Joan and their five children lived in a big country house where they seemed incredibly contented. When he came home after that weekend John put his arms around me and said, 'Let's have loads more kids, Cyn, and be really happy' Despite my increasingly strong feeling that John was slipping away from me, it seemed at moments like that as though nothing had changed. John was off drugs and seemed almost like his old self. 'We can make it work, Cyn,' he said. 'When we're in India we'll have time for us and everything will be fine.' I hoped he was right.

John (Cynthia Lennon)

Cyn hoped that Rishikesh would afford seclusion, privacy and an opportunity for her and John to rediscover each other and to revive their marriage. ‘Impossible hopes,’ she said sadly. ‘John said to me just before we went to India that he wanted us to have more children. Well that came out of the blue, I can tell you. I was really surprised, as he’d never said a word about that before.

Lesley-Ann Jones - The Search for John Lennon

Cynthia: “It was a time for us all to drop out for a while. The years of fame and fortune had taken their toll on our nerves and minds. John and I both felt closer. There seemed to be a greater possibility of our finding a solution to personal difficulties. If our trip to India wasn’t going to solve our emotional problems, then nothing would.”

The Beatles Off the Record (Keith Badman)

That letter made it crystal clear that they [John and Yoko] had been in contact. How well had they got to know one another? I tackled John, who told me she'd written many times, both letters and cards, but said, 'She's crackers, just a weirdo artist who wants me to sponsor her. Another nutter wanting money for all that avant-garde bullshit. It's not important.' I had no way of knowing whether he was telling me the truth. He sounded genuine, but a sixth sense told me there was more to this than he was admitting. I tried to put it to the back of my mind. We were going to India, and I wanted that to be a special time for us.

John (Cynthia Lennon)

John panicked at the accumulating threats from the Princess of Darkness. That was when he decided to go to India with Cynthia to put some distance between himself and Yoko. If he stayed away long enough, he could hope Yoko would just go away. Maybe she’d go back to America, or vanish in a puff of smoke. Her scissors act might go horribly wrong, or while she was bagged up one day the Royal Mail might frank the bag and deliver it to anywhere but India. Yes, a long trip to the ashram, where he could meditate and learn how to be calm and in control, give up drugs and spend romantic moments with Cynthia and glue his crumbling marriage back together, seemed opportune.

Magical Mystery Tours My Life with The Beatles by Tony Bramwell

“I don’t like the unhappiness she [Yoko] caused. She was horrible. John wanted to avoid her at first. He said, ‘Get rid of the bloody woman!’ But after India, he saw her differently — perhaps filtered through an exotic mindset.”

Tony Bramwell - the band’s ex-road manager

During

“The pressure of being the Beatles had driven a wedge between them individually and that had all percolated in the months leading up to their visit to Rishikesh,” he said. “Once they got there, and they unburdened themselves from all of that, they reconnected with their songwriting and their creativity. It just flowed forth.”

Bob Spitz to the New York Times

 “I was in a room for five days meditating,” said Lennon in The Beatles Anthology. “I wrote hundreds of songs. I couldn’t sleep and I was hallucinating like crazy, having dreams where you could smell. I’d do a few hours and they you’d trip off, three- or four-hour stretches. It was just a way of getting there, and you could go on amazing trips.” Cynthia Lennon said in Bob Spitz’s book The Beatles that for John, nothing else mattered when it came to mediation, adding “John and George were [finally] in their element [at the ashram]. They threw themselves totally into the Maharishi’s teachings, were happy, relaxed and above all found a piece of mind that had been denied them for so long.”

The Beatles in India: 16 Things You Didn’t Know

I was right in the Maharishi’s camp writing “I wanna die” you know. I’m So Tired and Yer Blues where they were pretty sort of realistic, you know, they were about me

Lennon Remembers

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da was born on the steps of one of the low slung cottages where the entourage lived. One day, remembers Saltzman, he was passing by the cottage when he saw Lennon and McCartney sitting on the front steps and strumming the tune on their acoustic guitars. He ran back, picked up the camera and took pictures of the two with a pensive-looking Starr sitting on the side, from outside a wicket gate. Saltzman remembers the two were singing the first two lines of the song "over and over again, going fast and slow, having fun". "That's the riff we have," McCartney told Saltzman, "but no words yet".

filmmaker Paul Saltzman

Jenny Boyd, Patti’s sister “I sat with John a lot, since he didn’t feel well, either from terrible jet lag, and insomnia. He would stay up late; unable to sleep, and write the songs that would later appear on The Beatles’ White Album. When I was at my lowest, he made a drawing of a turbaned Sikh genie holding a big snake and intoning, ‘By the power within, and the power without, I cast your tonsil lighthouse out!’ Sometimes, late at night, I can still hear John singing those sad songs he wrote during those evenings, like ‘I’m So Tired.’”

The Beatles Off the Record (Keith Badman)

John “I went to the Maharishi and, regardless of what I was supposed to be doing, I did write some of my best songs while I was there. It was a nice scene. Nice and secure and everybody was always smiling. The experience was worth it if only for the songs that came out. It could have been the desert or Ben Nevis. The funny thing about the Maharishi camp was that, although it was very beautiful and I was meditating about eight hours a day, I was writing the most miserable songs on earth, like ‘I’m So Tired’ and ‘Yer Blues.’”

The Beatles Off the Record (Keith Badman)

Meanwhile, I was not having the second honeymoon I'd hoped for. John was becoming increasingly cold and aloof towards me. He would get up early and leave our room. He spoke to me very little, and after a week or two he announced that he wanted to move into a separate room to give himself more space. From then on he virtually ignored me, both in private and in public. If the others noticed they didn't say so. I did my best to understand, begging him to explain what was wrong. He fobbed me off, telling me that it was just the effect of the meditation. 'I can't feel normal doing all this stuff,' He said. 'I'm trying to get myself together. It's nothing to do with you. Give me a break.' What I didn't know was that each morning he rushed down to the post office to see if he had a letter from Yoko. She was writing to him almost daily. When I learnt this later I felt very hurt.

John (Cynthia Lennon)

And because the Beatles didn’t know anything about ashrams and they haven’t seen anything before because they went for Maharishi, not for the ashram. Maharishi didn’t allow men to stay with their wives. John was delighted with the idea. He loved it, actually. I think it made Cynthia very unhappy. She wanted to stay with John, everybody had his own problems. My great interest was with John. I was very happy because I found John much healthier. The color in his face was different and he was happier and he took the whole thing very seriously, and he was trying hard and he was so excited when I arrived because perhaps I was part of the reason he was there.

Magic Alex in All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines

We all went through a depression after Maharishi and Brian died; it wasn’t really to do with Maharishi, it was just that period. I was really going through the “What’s it all about?” type thing – this songwriting is nothing, it’s pointless, and I’m no good, I’m not talented, and I’m shitty, and I couldn’t do anything but be a Beatle. What am I going to do about it? It lasted nearly two years and I was still in it during Pepper. I know Paul wasn’t at the time; he was feeling full of confidence, and I was going through murder during those periods. I was just about coming out of it around Maharishi, even though Brian had died – that knocked us back again. Well, it knocked me back.

John Lennon, interview w/ Barry Miles, (partially) unpublished. (September 23rd, 1969)

By spending two months in deep meditation in India, John brought his deepest problems to the surface but he was unable to resolve them: the contradiction between his family life and his life as a rock star with all the drugs and groupies was too great. Had he stayed with the Maharishi until the end of the course, he might have avoided some of the pain, but by terminating the instruction abruptly, he was left hanging in thin air. During the weeks at the camp, he had been receiving daily letters from Yoko, though nothing sexual had yet happened between them. He was very attracted by her but he felt tremendous guilt about breaking up his marriage: doing to Julian what his own parents had done to him, repeating the pattern.

Many Years From Now - Barry Miles

He [Mick Jagger] told me with amusement that the real reason why the Beatles left the Maharishi was that he made a pass at one of them: “They’re simple north-country lads; they’re terribly uptight about all that.” Am still not sure if I believe this story.

“The Sixties,” the second volume of Christopher Isherwood’s diaries

After

And I was slowly putting myself together after Maharishi, bit by bit over a two year period. I destroyed me ego and I didn’t believe I could do anything. I let Paul do what he want and say, them all of them do what they want, I was just nothing, I was shit. And then Derek tripped me out at his house after he got back from LA, and he sort of said you’re all right and pointed out which songs I’d written, and ‘you wrote this and you said this, you are intelligent, don’t be frightened’. And then next week I went down with Yoko and tripped out again and she filled me completely to realize I was me and it was alright.

Lennon Remembers

So much had changed since I’d last seen the Beatles just a few months previously. They had come back from their trip to India completely different people. They had once been fastidious and fashionable; now they were scruffy and unkempt. They had once been witty and full of humor; now they were solemn and prickly. They had once been bonded together as lifelong friends; now they resented one another’s company. They had once been lighthearted and fun to be around. Now they were angry.

Here, There and Everywhere - Geoff Emerick, Howard Massey

The rage that was bubbling inside John was the most obvious sign that something was seriously wrong. There was new tension between John and Paul, and even between John and Ringo, in addition to the often strained relationship that Paul had with George and the resentment that Ringo sometimes exhibited when Paul coached him too much on drum parts. In fact, the only two Beatles who seemed to get along during the White Album sessions were John and George. Perhaps that came from the experience they had shared at the ashram—after all, they were the two who had stuck it out, staying on long after Ringo and Paul had gone back home. Maybe they felt deserted by their bandmates, or betrayed. The undercurrents between the four Beatles were so complex at that point, it gave me a headache just thinking about it.

Here, There and Everywhere - Geoff Emerick, Howard Massey

Our first night back in the studio began, as usual, with small talk and catching up. “So how was India?” I asked. “India was okay, I guess… apart from that nasty little Maharishi,” John replied, venomously. Harrison looked deflated, as if it were a conversation they’d had many times before. With a deep sigh, he tried to calm his agitated bandmate. “Oh come on, he wasn’t that bad,” he interjected, earning a withering glance. Lennon’s bitterness and anger seemed almost palpable. Ringo tried deflecting things with a little humor. “It reminded me of a Butlins holiday camp, only the bloody food wasn’t as good,” he said with a wink. I glanced in Paul’s direction. He was staring straight ahead, expressionless and weary. He didn’t have much to say about India that day, or any other. I sensed at that moment that something fundamental in them had changed. They were searching for something, but they didn’t know quite what it was; they had journeyed to India looking for answers, and they were disappointed that they hadn’t found them there… but it seemed to me that they didn’t even know the questions.

Here, There and Everywhere - Geoff Emerick, Howard Massey

“By all accounts, John had hit an all-time low [after India]. “John was in a rage because God had forsaken him,” George recalled. “Then he went and completely reversed himself. He turned from being positive to being totally negative.” According to Pete Shotton, who was spending time with John at Weybridge, there was an overriding feeling of humiliation—from the Maharishi, from the Apple Boutique shambles, from his deteriorating marriage, from what he felt was his shrinking position in the Beatles. “He was more fucked up than I’d even seen him,” Shotton remembers. “It seemed like everything was going to the dogs. He’d been desperately grasping [at] straws, as far as I was concerned, and there wasn’t even a straw there.”

the beatles: the biography, bob spitz

JOHN: How can two women split up four strong men? It’s impossible. You know, The Beatles were disintegrating slowly after Brian Epstein died, it was a slow death, and it was happening. It was evident in Let It Be – uh, although Linda and Yoko were evident then, but they weren’t when it started, I don’t think. It was evident in – in India, when George and I stayed there and Paul and Ringo left.

October, 1971 (St Regis Hotel, New York)

There was little need for me to repeat my instructions. As soon as we got there, it was obvious that things were not hunky-dory with the Beatles. Their recent month-long meditation retreat with the Maharishi didn’t seem to have helped their relationships very much, and the estrangement was definitely having an effect on their work. I don’t think any actual recording got done that night. Paul, George and Ringo were rehearsing some new songs, trying different ways of playing and singing them. Meanwhile, John spent most of his time sitting on the floor next to Yoko, chatting privately with her as she stroked his hair. He seemed no more involved in the proceedings than me and Lawrence, who watched the uncomfortable tension building from the other side of the studio. “Hey John.” Paul turned around to face him at one point. “Are you in this band or what?”

Leslie Cavendish, The Cutting Edge: The Story of the Beatles’ Hairdresser Who Defined an Era

Back at Kenwood John continued to be distant towards me. Now that we were away from the others and the charms of India, I felt increasingly afraid and depressed. John and I were back in the same bed, but the warmth and passion we had shared for so long were absent. John seemed barely to notice me. He was little better with Julian and was more likely to snap at him than give him a hug. There was just one moment of real warmth between us and that was, ironically, when John confessed to me that he had been unfaithful. We were in the kitchen when he said, out of the blue, 'There have been other women, you know, Cyn.'

John (Cynthia Lennon)

On the flight back from India, he had gotten very drunk and, for some reason, decided to confess all his affairs to Cynthia. Brutally, he ticked off a very long list, which included groupies, models, prostitutes, the wives and girlfriends of his and Cynthia’s friends and, possibly cruelest of all, Cynthia’s own girlfriends. Cynthia felt totally betrayed.

Magical Mystery Tours My Life with The Beatles by Tony Bramwell

The shattering of his faith in the Maharishi, meanwhile, had left John spiritually adrift once more; his instinctive response was to return with a vengeance to his former drug habits. (Like the other Beatles, John had totally abstained from alcohol and drugs while in India.) In retrospect, it's easy to see how wide open John was, at this particular juncture, to anything—or anybody—that might conceivably lift him out of his rut.

The Beatles, Lennon, and me - Pete Shotton

PAUL: I gave myself a set period, and then if it was gonna be something we really had to go back for, I was thinking of going back. But at the end of my month I was quite happy and I thought… this’ll do me. This is fine. If I want to get into it heavy, I can do it anywhere. That’s one of the nice things about it, you don’t have to go to church to do it, you can do it in your own room. So I was quite happy.

RINGO: I left just a little disillusioned, and John was a little disillusioned when he came back, and Paul was. [pause] George just loved it.

1993 rough cut of the Anthology series

Although Paul was the first to leave [India] disillusioned, John left in the mind of, ‘OK, well, we tried, we surrendered to God but it wasn’t God, it was Maharishi and this God thing is proving itself to be a total fallacy’ - and then went back to being The Beatles.

I left Rishikesh with John. Alex [Madras] had been the naughty boy who’d stirred everything up. John went in a rage because God had forsaken him (although it was nothing to do with God, really). Then he went and completely reversed himself. He turned from being positive to being totally negative.

I went to South India […] and everything that happened to me went wrong to the point that I felt, like John and Alex, that the Maharishi had put the heeby-jeebies in me.

George Harrison, c/o Derek Taylor, Fifty Years Adrift. (1984)

JOHN: I’ve got no regrets at all, ‘cause it was a groove and I had some great experiences meditating eight hours a day—some amazing things, some amazing trips— it was great. And I still meditate off and on. George is doing it regularly. And I believe implicitly in the whole bit. It’s just that it’s difficult to continue it. I lost the rosy glasses. And I’m like that. I’m very idealistic. So I can’t really manage my exercises when I’ve lost that. I mean, I don’t want to be a boxer so much. It’s just that a few things happened, or didn’t happen. I don’t know, but something happened. It was sort of like a click and we just left and I don’t know what went on. It’s too near—I don’t really know what happened.

John Lennon, interview w/ Jonathan Cott for Rolling Stone: The first Rolling Stone interview. (November 23rd, 1968)

Cynthia Lennon “John had taken acid once more and enthused, ‘Cyn, it was great. Christ Cyn, we’ve got to have lots more children. We’ve got to have a big family around us.’ At this point, I burst into tears … All I could blurt out was that, in no way, could I see us as he did. I was so disturbed by John’s outburst, that I even suggested that Yoko Ono was the woman for him. John protested at my crazy suggestion and suggested that I was being ridiculous. Although life went on as usual, my fears grew and I felt nervous and depressed. John was aware of my depression and suggested that, as he had to work for long hours in the recording studios for a few weeks, I should accompany Jenny, Donovan, Gyspy and Alexis on a holiday to Greece. The very thought of sun and sea really brightened my outlook.”

The Beatles Off the Record (Keith Badman)

During the spring of 1968, John was as confused, lonely, and unhappy as I'd seen him in years. Though his relationship with the other Beatles was still free of serious strain, he was seeing increasingly less of Paul and George, both of whom were now pursuing independent lives and interests of their own.

In My Life, Pete Shotton

The resentment might have been coming from a different place. With his marital problems still unsettled and Cynthia gallivanting around Greece, drugs continued to govern John’s fitful moods. He dosed himself continuously with LSD, tweaking its random effect with any spare pills he happened to find lying around the house. In the right company, it plunged John into a deep, unfathomable trance that altered between indecipherable rambling and deadpan silences. At Weybridge, into which Pete Shotton had moved in order to keep his friend company, he stayed up nights, tripping and battling wave after wave of incendiary rage. One night, after the usual snack of hallucinogens, Shotton says he noticed John moving his arms around very slowly in a circle. “I said, ‘What are you doing?’ ” recalls Pete, “but John couldn’t explain it. He said, ‘I can’t stop. There’s something making me do this. I can’t help myself.’ ” Tears followed, uncontrollable rivers of tears, intermingled with hideous laughter. When Shotton tried to comfort him, John resisted. “I’m not crying,” he insisted peevishly, wiping his eyes with the back of a hand. Suddenly John declared that he was Jesus Christ, back from the grave. “He was convinced of it,” Pete recalls, “saying… ‘This is it, at last—I know who I am.’ ” The next day the Messiah convened an emergency meeting at Apple to announce his identity to the other Beatles. Unimpressed, they said: “Yeah, all right then. What shall we do now?” After someone suggested lunch, the matter was dropped.

That night at Weybridge, in the middle of another drug-induced reverie, the TV flickered off, whereupon John, already chastened and in a self-abasing mood, asked Pete if it was okay if he invited a woman to the house. Shotton, who had no intention of staying up another night with his friend, was relieved. “Well, I think I’ll call up Yoko,” John said.

The Beatles – Bob Spitz

What happened that night can only be left to the imagination, but since it patently wasn’t the coming together of two virgins for the very first time, did Yoko do her hypnotism thing, as some of John’s friends thought she had, or did she have a powerful new drug in her arsenal? Nobody really believed that John fell in love overnight, because why hadn’t he done so before? He’d been kicking Yoko in and out of his life for over a year. Mostly, he had given the impression that he resented and despised her. So it must have been something pretty potent that made John fall headlong out of his casual affair with her into a mad obsession. Perhaps it was that he really was mentally ill and like many schizoid personalities, got religious mania. If he really did believe that he was Jesus, Yoko would probably have convinced him she was the Virgin Mary. A virgin at any rate. John was shortly to tell the world that they spent the night at the top of the house in his bloodred music room, recording the Two Virgins tape. They say that a moose in heat can waken the dead and achieve the impossible with his bellows. John and Yoko spent the night screaming.

Magical Mystery Tours My Life with The Beatles by Tony Bramwell

Whatever her reasoning, Cynthia remained determined to see the marriage through [after finding John and Yoko together]. Convinced that John still needed her, she returned to Kenwood, mollified by his apparent denial that anything improper had occurred. “For a while, everything was wonderful,” she recalled. “We could speak more openly and honestly with each other, and there really was a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.”

But the tunnel was short, and the light soon faded. Within weeks their life together had disintegrated into a revolving state of solicitude and withdrawal, resignation and despondence. Following a stretch when John became disturbingly incommunicative, Cynthia packed once again, escaping on still another vacation to Pesaro, Italy, with her mother, Julian, and a favorite aunt and uncle.

The Beatles – Bob Spitz

No sooner were they back from India, than Jane returned to her work at the Bristol Old Vic, and Paul launched into what was probably the most relaxed time of his life. He opened wide the doors of Cavendish Avenue and the groupies, who had camped as faithfully outside as they had in Wimpole Street during the years that Paul had lived there with the Asher family, were astonished to find they were now invited in. Not only were they invited into the house, but also into Paul’s bed. Whenever I went up to see Paul, the house was filled with giggling, half-naked girls, cooking meals, walking Martha, or glued to the phone for hours on end, calling the world.

Magical Mystery Tours My Life with The Beatles by Tony Bramwell

It came as a welcome relief that John and Paul, along with Neil Aspinall, planned a quick trip to New York on May 11, where several press events had been scheduled to announce Apple Records in the States. Friends agreed that getting John away might do him a world of good; being alone, with just Paul to steady him, might have a calming influence. But Paul was grappling with his own set of anxieties. “We wanted a grand launch,” Paul said, “but I had a strange feeling and was very nervous.” Drugs, he later admitted, may have been at the root of his problem; there was a lot of dope-smoking before takeoff and even during the transatlantic flight. But Jane Asher also helped spike Paul’s mood. The grudging engagement between Beatle and actress had been ticklish at best. But since traveling together in India and a subsequent ten-day trip to Scotland, Jane’s eccentricities rankled. Paul was having serious second thoughts about the relationship, which had reached a kind of critical, now-or-never stage.

Between John’s attitude and Paul’s paranoia, the Beatles were a PR nightmare. “It was a mad, bad week in New York,” recalled Derek Taylor, who met the two Beatles there to chaperone a round of press conferences, followed by interviews. Taylor had fashioned himself into a debonair drug aficionado since the Beatles first dosed him at Brian Epstein’s housewarming party, and now he and John gorged themselves on speed and a “mild and extremely benign hallucinogen” called Purple Holiday, courtesy of their New York chauffeur. The effect of it came through in the interviews. John was gallingly withdrawn and dismissive, Paul unusually distracted—which made them come off as two rich, snooty rock stars peddling another product.

The Beatles – Bob Spitz

+ a couple of extra things

A quick timeline

December 25 Paul and Jane announced that they were engaged to be married.

February 15 George, Patti, John and Cynthia flew from London Airport to India.

February 19 Paul, Jane, Ringo and Maureen flew from London Airport to India.

March 26 Paul, Jane and Neil Aspinall flew back to England from Rishikesh, leaving George and Patti, John and Cynthia and “Magic” Alex who had come out to join them.

April 12 John and Cynthia, George and Patti and “Magic” Alex left in a hurry from Rishikesh, India, after “Magic” Alex convinced John and George that the Maharishi was using his position to gain sexual favours from at least one of the female meditators.

May 11 John and Paul, accompanied by “Magic” Alex, Neil Aspinall, Mal Evans, Ron Kass and Derek Taylor, flew to New York to launch Apple in the US.

May 15 Accompanied by Linda, Nat Weiss drove John, Paul and “Magic” Alex to the airport for their flight back to London.

May 19 With Cynthia taking a short holiday, John called Yoko Ono and invited her out to Kenwood. They made a random sound tape, which was later issued as Two Virgins with the notorious sleeve showing them both naked.

May 26 Cynthia returned home from a brief holiday in Greece, to discover Yoko Ono in residence with John.

May 31 Abbey Road. The White Album sessions. Work continued on ‘Revolution 1’ and the last six minutes was removed to form the basis of the chaotic ‘Revolution 9’. Yoko screamed on the track, her first appearance on a Beatles recording.

June 4 Paul began seeing Francie Schwartz.

July 20 Jane Asher, appearing on Simon Dee’s BBC Television show Dee Time, said that her engagement to Paul was off – but that it was not she that had broken it. She told Dee that they had been engaged for seven months, after knowing each other for five years. (She had arrived back at Cavendish Avenue one day to find Paul in bed with a girl named Francie Schwartz.)

The Beatles Diary Volume 1 The Beatles Years (Barry Miles)

A comment from Heydullblog, which I find interesting and think sums up how insufficient & unsatisfying most explanations are for how John changed during this period:

Michael Gerber November 25, 2021 at 4:31 pm

What, in all that, makes you HATE Cyn, and divorce her in the most abrupt and vicious way, even attempting to get her to commit adultery so you can give her (and your own son) as little as possible? Why not a quick and amiable divorce from a woman who, let’s be honest, knew she was getting cheated on pretty constantly since 1961.

What, in all that, makes you HATE Paul McCartney, who has been your closest professional collaborator since 1957, and engage in a five-year campaign to smear and demean him in the press? Why do you insist your millions of fans choose you or him? Why not simply pause the group, and everybody goes solo and remains friends, as was predicted at the end of touring?

What makes you DETERMINED to bust up your rock group, the most popular group in the world, the source of all your fame, money, and power?

What makes you pick Yoko Ono IN PARTICULAR out of all the groupies, hangers-on, and even sensible appropriate partners within your current circle? Eighteen months ago you were attracted to Maureen Cleave, Sonny Freeman, Alma Cogan, etc — pretty much the type of women you always picked — but now, you pick a conceptual artist offering total submersion into someone else’s ego?

And what makes you spend the rest of your life pretending all this was the greatest thing ever, the fullest flowering of your genius?

It’s not that John Lennon looked around at his life in early 1968 and thought, “I don’t want this anymore. This isn’t for me.” It’s that he lashed out incredibly fiercely, in every direction, made no distinction between friend and foe, demonstrated a huge amount of resentment and bitterness towards the very people who it would seem had helped him the most, and spent literally the rest of his short life at least arguably LESS happy than he’d been before. He didn’t dump his wife for the nanny and live happily ever after; he started a process of picking things up and throwing them away with great force that, if he’d been that way in 1957, would’ve kept any of his genius from ever emerging.

He changed, fundamentally, in a short time. Why?

Midlife crises happen, they are to be expected, but this one gets more singular the more you look at it. And the thing about post-India Lennon is how he’s no more happy, no more productive, no more self-aware, no more comfortable in his own skin, than pre-India Lennon. What does the guy in August 1980 have to be angry about? Really? It was only after I reached middle-age and went through my own version of crisis (crises) that I thought, “How strange.”

#the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #mclennon #there are probably a million posts on this topic but the completionist in me had to do one too

[mochiwrites]

something about scar keeping the apartment the same while grian was missing makes me emotional cuz ofc scar always holds out hope grian would come home

do you have any thoughts on that first visit back to the apartment after grian escapes the watchers?

it makes me SO emotional ;w; scar held onto that hope for soso long ueueueueue

but that first visit back… ough, it’s incredibly emotional for both of them. grian is really hit by the familiarity of everything and is so touched by the fact that nothing in the apartment changed. he can go through every bit of it and recall some sort of memory tied to it. and scar is just so happy to see grian in their apartment again:

While standing in their bedroom, back to the door, Grian marvels at the sight before him. Just like the rest of the apartment, nothing has been touched. The room is the same, as Grian remembered leaving it. He even spots a certain cat curled up on their blankets, and he smiles. He looks at the bookshelf by his side of the bed, walking up to it. Grian brushes his fingers along the spines, noticing the lack of dust on them.

“Scar you—”

He’s stopped by two arms wrapping around his waist from behind, a weight dropping on his shoulder. From the corner of his eye he can spot a head of brown hair.

“I’m not dreaming, am I?” Scar questions quietly, his voice shaking and so soft. Grian lowers his hand, moving to set it on Scar’s arm. In response, Scar brings him closer, back pulling tightly to chest. “You’re really here, in our home.”

“I’m here, Scar,” he answers gently, leaning back against him. “I’m home.”

Scar pressed his face more along the crook of Grian’s neck, and the breath he takes in is one that trembles, unsteady. “I didn’t know… Void G, I didn’t know if you’d ever come back to me,” he murmurs. “Every day I hoped and waiting, but I was terrified something happened to you. That I lost you forever.”

Grian’s heart breaks for him, for all of the waiting he was put through. “I’m sorry.” For being stupid enough to believe Them. For leaving you alone for so long. For hurting you with my absence. All of it. “I am so sorry, Scar.”

“Oh, Grian no, darling no.” Scar squeezes him, fervently shaking his head. “You do not get to apologize for being kidnapped by godly beings who invaded your server, mister. In fact, I’m making it illegal,” he declares.

Despite the overwhelming wave of emotion falling over him, Grian snorts. “Illegal? I don’t think you have that kind of authority.”

Scar chuckles, “I do now.” He quiets then, moving to press his lips to the skin of Grian’s neck. “But please… don’t apologize for that, lovebird. It wasn’t your fault.”

Grian doesn’t answer, biting the inside of his cheek. It certainly feels like it was his fault. Sure, he may not have asked to be kidnapped but… hadn’t he still welcomed it, in a way? He has a feeling Scar may not like that thought very much. So he leaves it, sinks into his husband’s embrace. He’s missed this so much. So, so much.

He leans into the sweet trail of kisses that Scar plants on his neck, moving his hand to intertwine their fingers.

“I’m really happy to be home,” Grian tells him, leaning his head against Scar’s. He lets his eyes shut for a moment, knowing that he’s completely safe with his Scar.

He feels Scar’s lips press one last lingering kiss to just below his jaw. “I’m happy you’re home too,” Scar whispers. “So happy, words can’t even describe it.”

They stand like that for a while, just holding each other. In some ways, it feels like Grian never left.

:>

#mochi speaks #secret husbands au #scarian #hermitshipping #mochi writes #because why not throw my writing tag on here tehe #it started as a ramble but then the image of scar hugging grian was too clear #I had to write it out

[twig-tea]

Things from Wandee Goodday ep 3 I can't stop thinking about:

I love so much that we got some good friends with benefits tension around personal boundaries when Dee asked who Yei was and then backed off (but Yak told him anyway). And between the jokes about rimming, Dee demanding Yak pay more attention to his dick last episode, and starting this episode in the 69 position, I am very, very here for this show saying over and over that sex is not just one act.

[ID: Gif of the beginning of episode 3, whichi is a pan-to-shot of Dee and Yak laying in 69 position on the floor under blankets]

i loved the different responses to hearing someone you love is in a "Friends with Benefits" situation; Kao warned Dee not to catch feelings or read too much into the situation and Cher/Yei teased Yak for lying to himself about what the situation is. Both are super valid and speak to who Dee and Yak are, who Kao and Cher/Yei are, and all of their experiences with love. And it speaks to the closeness of these relationships too, that Cher noticed Yak's necklace gone immediately and Kao similarly clocked its addition on Dee instantly.

Super here for Kao being the ultimate support bestie at work, equal parts haranguing and backing Dee up. Their relationship is perfection.

I really liked Yak peace-ing out of their agreement when Dee dropped a huge request with no context, that was so valid and in the spirit of FWB (he didn't actually owe him a bigger conversation).

I've already reblogged a couple of other people (@negrowhat and @lurkingshan) talking about this so I won't belabour it, but I am judging Dee for not only ignoring Yak's boundaries by going to his workplace and forcing him to train him and then flirting with him during training sessions after Yak both made clear he's worried about being out at work and had ended their agreement. I hope we get more of an explanation for Yak's reticence about dating a man while aiming for the championship as well as his change of mind.

The conversations with Cher and Oyei have me so curious about their history! Tell me everything, show. I put these questions in tags on a gifset (but to put them on main: Where is Oyei and Yak's father (who is also a former champ but apparently uninvolved with this family business, if he's still alive)? What happened to Yak's mother that he doesn't know if he takes after her? Why can they go to Cher's family for financial help but not Yei/Yak's (to the point where they had to take out what sounds like a predatory loan during COVID)? What is Cher afraid of re: being seen being affectionate to Oyei, and where does that come from? Is this history related to why Yak is so worried about his relationship to Dee getting in the way of his championship? All of this is seeded so organically and I'm so, so curious. It also has me even more in my feelings about Cher and Yei calling Yak their son.

[ID: Gif of Yei saying to Cher: I own this place. What's there to be afraid of? From the set linked in the paragraph above]

[I have a clown theory that Cher and Oyei's relationship is why his dad is out of the picture and his gym is in financial trouble (because it prevented Yei from getting sponsorship despite being a champion), and why Yak is worried about being in a relationship with a man even though he knows his brother won't care...we'll see how much of this the show pulls together!]

The flash of trauma from Dee at the crosswalk was interesting too; where is that going? What happened in Dee's past and how is it going to affect the story in future?

[More clown speculation: Is it related to why Dee is so good with patients and passionate about ortho? Has he seen someone in his life become disabled due to physical injury?]

Speaking of, I really loved seeing Dee be good at his job and great with patients and their families. In addition to it being just nice to see and good for our understanding of his character, it sets him up to have a fighting chance in the contest too, since patients apparently get a vote.

I love love love the camaraderie and giggling between Dee and Yak around making Ter jealous and shoving their fake relationship in those gossiping nurses' faces. The way they are actually friends who like one another and enjoy spending time together is just really wonderful to watch.

My biggest question is: Will Dee get a chance in this narrative to show up for Yak the way Yak has been showing up for Dee? And how can that current imbalance be reconciled with this all leading towards Dee trying to get a placement to go abroad--and his self-stated toxic trait of always needing to win? [shoutout to @chicademartinica for laying that out succinctly in her post]

In the meantime, I'm having a blast.

#wandee goodday #bl meta #typed so that i can stop thinking it #this show is laying down a lot of groundwork and doing a lot of things i really like #with a few things that have me nervous #looking forward to the ride this show takes us on every week as we learn more!

[nihyunluvskookie]

Meri Chaand 🌙

SYNOPSIS. This was their first karwachauth after their arranged marriage

PAIRING. husband!choi seungcheol x female reader

GENRE. fluff, established relationship

WARNINGS. Mention of fasting, a kiss, terms of endearment

WORD COUNT. 3.2K

AUTHOR’S NOTE. Can’t believe I am back with this, this was in my drafts for toooo long and finally posting this, well while proofreading I almost couldn’t believe that it was me who wrote this and Seungcheol after all. But here it is, hope you all like this Happy reading :)

TAG. @thepoopdokyeomtouched @aestheticfangirl

I woke up as soon as I heard my alarm, I felt Seungcheol stir in his sleep. I didn’t want to wake him up, I wanted to be as quiet as possible. Somewhere I didn’t want to tell him about any of this, because I didn’t know if he believed this tradition or not.

I woke up quietly and walked towards the walk-in closet, and after choosing my clothes I went to take a shower. I relaxed as soon the warm water hit my body, all the memories, flood in from yesterday. “Do you have work tomorrow?” I nodded, “but it’s work from home. I have to attend a few meetings that’s it”

“Oh, I thought you had an off day” I looked at him, I wanted him to say because it felt like I was forgetting something but then I wanted to hear it from him. “It’s karwachauth tomorrow so I thought…” he trailed off, and then it clicked in my mind, maa told me about this today morning before I left for work and even told me about the sargi. I don’t even know if he believes this or not. “Oh, no we don’t have off because of karwachauth” he nodded. “All good then and you can tell maa if- his words were cut off because of a call he received. I was getting sleepy either way, I didn’t wait for him when he walked out of the room to talk.

I don’t believe in all these traditions and saw my mom doing everything every year, till last year but there was something inside me, where I wanted to keep the fast.

I got ready and went downstairs, I saw maa already setting the sargi, “Nishita?” I smiled at her, I took her blessings but she held my shoulders and hugged me. “Are you sure?” I nodded, “Here’s your sargi,” She asked me yesterday about the fast and I agreed.

“Eat this before the sunrise.” I nodded. I was about to go towards the room but then the thought of Seungcheol getting disturbed and then asking me so many things, hit me so I didn’t go to my room. “Can I eat it here in the living room?”

“You don’t want to go back to your room?” I shook my head, “Seungcheol is sleeping and I don’t want to disturb him. He came late and then I don’t know when he came to sleep after he received a call at 11:30 pm yesterday.” She held my cheeks and smiled, “You care for him so much Nishita” I smiled at her. “Everyone deserves some rest and I have work from home today so it’s fine for me, but he should get enough rest” She kissed my forehead, “He is lucky” I smiled.

I ate my sargi and once I was done, I went to keep the plates in the sink. Despite our arranged marriage, I always wondered how would things turn out after marriage, he gave me the personal space whenever I needed, and he never forced me into anything, things were changing, it’s been nine months after our marriage already, and for me, things were slowly changing. The care he showed even without asking me was something that always got me. And the least I could do for him was to fulfil the traditions I should do as his wife.

I looked outside and it was already sunrise, and I looked at the clock, it read 6:33 am

I went back to my room, well aware of Seungcheol’s alarm of 7:00 am. He usually works out in the morning for like one hour, so it’s his time to get up. I went to take out my laptop, to check everything for the meeting I had to attend. I was holding my Mac and walked towards the bed, and I was surprised to see Seungcheol awake, “Nishi?”

“Seungcheol?”

“You’re already awake?” I nodded at his words. His eyes went to the laptop I was holding, “do you have a meeting now?”

“No, but I need to check a few things before the meeting because I would be talking to the client mainly.” Another reason was to distract myself today and I wanted to ask him why was he awake, since it wasn’t even 7 am yet. He looked lost, and we were just looking at each other, more like staring at each other.

“Subah ho gai?” I nodded

“Umm, good morning” I looked at him and replied, “Good morning” We didn’t do this usually, what’s gotten into him?

“I will go get ready.” I nodded and kept my Mac on the night table. Once he went towards the closet, I fixed the bedsheets and went to sit on the bed with my Mac.

I saw him walking back with his sweatshirt on, I looked at him, “I am going for workout” I nodded at him. I was checking files, then it hit me. It was already 7 am and I had to make breakfast.

I closed my Mac and went downstairs, I saw maa already inside the kitchen, “You’re here?” she looked at me, “Yes, how could I not help you in making breakfast?”

“But you don’t have to do a lot of work today because in the evening we have to do the preparations. So don’t stress too much and you’ve two meetings today.”

“It’s fine maa, and making breakfast is a daily thing, why an exception today?” she looked at me and smiled, “You’re just so beautiful”

“what were you planning to make today?” I asked her, and I went to wash my hands, “something Seungcheol likes” I turned my head to her, “something he likes?” she nodded, “do you want to cook something else?” I shook my head, “he likes Sabudana Khichdi aur Rawa Uttapam” She smiled at me, “Let’s make both and Sangyeon wanted to eat Sabudana ki kichadi yesterday, so I soaked Sabudana overnight, already” I saw, the bowl and went to drain it, “you can cut the vegetables for uttapam, I will do this.” She nodded and once drained, I dry-roasted peanuts, I personally didn’t like peanuts but he did.

Once done, I started making it carefully, and to my surprise, today it turned out nicely; I looked over maa, and noticed she was almost done with the chopping and preparations for rava uttapam. “Maa, let me do this”

“You already made Sabudana” I looked at her, “it’s fine. You can go and check up on others, I can do this. I don’t have any work right now as well” She gave up after I insisted, for some unknown reason I wanted to make breakfast today maybe because I was very relaxed and had no work or I was just bored.

It didn’t take a lot of time to cook for everyone, I was almost done and then I heard maa “Go and call Seungcheol, it’s breakfast time” I kept everything and nodded at her. “I will set the table for everyone.”

I went to our room and I saw Seungcheol buttoning his white shirt, I shook my head and sighed. Doesn’t matter how many times I told him not to walk like this, infront of him but he is like ‘It’s my house, I can walk however I want, I can be naked anytime I want’

His strong scent filled the whole room, I walked towards him, “Breakfast’s ready, maa is calling” Once he was done with his shirt, he took out the tie. He looked at me, “help me?” I sighed and took the tie. Despite his height I managed to help him with his tie, unknowingly today I noticed, we were standing way too close, his breaths were hitting my collarbone which was making it difficult for me to focus on his tie.

“And you’re done” I took a step back and almost stumbled back, but he was quick to hold my waist and pull me closer, “Be careful Nishi” his voice was deeper than usual, the moment he let go of my waist, I let out the breath I was holding.

“Let’s go for breakfast, it’s almost time.”

“I have to leave, I have a meeting” I turned to look at him, “meeting?”

“Yes, I was supposed to tell you yesterday but when I came back to room, you were asleep.”

“But I made your favorite...sabudana” I almost whispered the last word.

“I’m sorry, I’ve to leave” He went out of the room and I followed him, almost disappointed but then I understand, him being the CEO and doing everything. I knew he had work but skipping breakfast? It’s something he never did and rather always tells everyone else that they shouldn’t skip their breakfast.

“Seungcheol” both of us turned to look at maa, “aa jao khane, Nishita ne pyaar se banaya hai aaj”

“Aaj nehi maa, meeting hai.”

“Lekin, Nishi ne bahut pyaar se banaya hai”

“Maa, it’s okay.” He turned to look at me, he had apologetic eyes.

“I’m sorry” I shook my head and gave him a tight smile, “it’s okay, I get it.” Whereas this was the first time he was skipping breakfast.

He went out in a hurry and I looked at Sangyeon and papa, enjoying breakfast. Sangyeon was almost taken aback when maa informed that I was fasting today.

*****

After I was done with the meetings, I looked at the time, it was already evening. I was getting sleepy and tired, I heard a knock on the door. “Are you done for the day?” I looked at maa, walking towards the bed where I was sitting. I nodded, “all done”

“Good, everything’s almost done, I wanted to inform you that, there’s a ritual which is followed in our house, which is you have to wear your wedding saree today.” I nodded, “okay I will get ready”

“Once you’re ready come downstairs.” I nodded.

I looked at the time, it was already 6 pm which meant Seungcheol should have come by now. I shrugged off the thoughts and went towards the walk-in closet, to check my wedding saree.

After searching a bit, I found my saree. I took everything out and went to change. After changing into the saree and fixing everything perfectly, I looked in the mirror and started getting ready. I wore my kajal and eyeliner. I applied liptint and once I was done with my hair, I looked at myself and smiled. I picked up my earrings and wore it. Somewhere my mind was stuck with Seungcheol, why was he late? Would he make it today when the moon will come out? Did he believe in this?

I was skeptical about everything, and him leaving early today, and missing breakfast was something I never thought I would witness. I knew the meaning of the fast, it was for his wellbeing, and it didn’t matter if he believed it or not but I was unsure myself…now

I tried to smile looking at the mirror.

I was ready, so I went downstairs and there I saw the way everything was kept and decorated; “Nishita, come here” I went to sit beside maa, we had to decorate the kalash and other things, once everything was done and kept in the thali, we had to go to the terrace

The moment I stepped on the terrace, I was getting anxious, because there was no sign of him yet.

**********

SEUNGCHEOL

I looked at the time, didn’t matter how much I wanted to have coffee, I resisted eating or drinking anything today.

I don’t know if Nishi believed in all these traditions but I wanted to keep the fast for her; I didn’t believe in these until she came to my life. There was something about her which always told me to believe everything, let it be god, fate or destiny.

I felt at my worst when I told her I wouldn’t be having my breakfast, knowing she made my favourite and the disappointment on her face was visible. The whole day she was stuck in my mind, I knew how much karwachauth meant for my mother, I always admired her for all these; not knowing I would be doing this one day for my own wife.

woh vrat nehi rakhegi toh mai rakhlunga, that’s what I told myself.

Once I was done with all the meetings and everything, I walked down to the basement to drive back home. I looked at the time, hoping I wasn’t very late.

The moment I reached home, I saw no one downstairs, were they on the terrace already? I came across Sangyeon who was already wearing a kurta, “where’s Nishi?”

“Bhabi?” he looked at me, “She’s with maa on the terrace. You should go and wait for the moon, it’s almost late bhai, what were you even doing this late” he walked past me.

I went to our room and saw, my kurta set on the bed, “did Nishi take these out for me?” I was about to call her but I remembered she wasn’t here, she was with maa.

I changed my clothes and got ready. I went to the walk-in closet and took out the payal I brought for Nishi, more or less this was our first karwachauth and how could I let it go like this?

I kept them inside my pocket and went upstairs.

The moment I reached the rooftop, I almost stopped my steps when I saw her turning around to look at me, she was wearing the saree that she wore at our wedding, I could never forget the look on her face.

Right now, she looked so pretty, with her half-braided hair, pretty earrings, pretty eyeliner, her golden chain, and her mangalsutra. The way she looked right now, I was ready to keep all the fasts for her, so that she could shine brightly like the moon in my dark days, I wanted to give her all the happiness she deserved, she didn’t deserve to shed a single tear in her life. And I was here to make sure she received all the happiness.

 I walked towards her, almost in surprise; she was holding the thali which had everything.

Once I was standing infront of her, she gave me a tight smile, “I almost thought you would be very late”

“And here I thought you didn’t believe in any of these?”

“I didn’t believe in these but felt like you believed in this and I had faith in you” She almost whispered those three words which were enough for me to hear. “Chand dikh gaya” she hurriedly, put her pallu over her head, she looked so beautiful, just the way she looked that night, when we were getting married. Nothing could compare to how beautiful she looked.

She lit up the diya, then kept the diya on the sieve then while looking at the moon through the sieve she poured the water from the kalash. I watched her do everything and somewhere my heart wanted to capture the moment forever, the adoration and dedication in her eyes told me something else. She kept the empty kalash on the other side and then turned to look at me through the sieve. I was looking at her through the sieve, and I was lost in her eyes.

Her eyes always pulled me closer to her, there was always something in her that pulled me closer and made me fall in love with her, they say marriages always happen if there’s love but then how would anyone explain this? I fell for her the moment I saw her in saree at our wedding. The way she looked at me told me, already that I fell for her. The admiration on her face was nothing compared to billions of diamonds. She was the most precious diamond I ever had.

She gave me a smile through the sieve and she was about to keep the sieve on the other side but before she could do that, I held the sieve and looked at her, she was taken aback.

“Seungcheol?” I smiled at her

“I found my moon.” She was surprised, I could say she never thought I would do this.

“fast rakhe ho?” I didn’t reply to her and I heard my mother, “Tu manta bhi nehi tha yeh sab, aur aaj kya hua?”

“Chand mili hai mujhe apni, toh itna karna toh banta hai na agar isko hamesha apne paas rakhna hai aur aise hi chamakta hua dekhna hai toh? Meri chaand itna toh deserve karti hi hai maa” She looked lost. I couldn’t tell if she was surprised, or was overwhelmed, or taken aback.

Once done, I took out the diya from the sieve and kept it on the thali, and the sieve on the table. After that, she did the arti, and I was smiling throughout the time, she looked so beautiful even with the light of the flame. I took the kalash from the thali and I helped her drink the water and broke her fast.

“Ab meri baari jaan” that last word just slipped out of my mouth unknowingly and I was almost flustered, but nothing compared to how flustered she looked.

“Seungcheol?”

 “Vrat Rakha hai, paani pilaogi tabhi tutega” she smiled at me and helped me drink the water.

She held the thali and fixed the pallu, and before she could bend down and touch my feet, I bent down and touched her feet. She was taken aback, well I have seen my mother do this to my father but here I wanted Nishi to give another place in my life.

I took the gulab jamun from the thali and gave her a bite, she took it from me and gave me a bite.

“Now one more thing, you deserve” She looked at me confused, “Ab kya baaki hai?”

“Fast bhi rakh liya mere liye, aur kya chahiye mujhe?” I bend down and patted my thighs, “Kya?”

I took out the box and showed her the payal, “Aaj hamara pehela karwachauth hai, toh yeh meri taraf se, ek chota sa taufa” she extended her leg and kept the feet on my thigh, I didn’t care if everyone in our family saw us, this was supposed to be our moment but couldn’t help if this because the public display of affection.

Once I put the payal around both her feet, I kissed her feet lightly. I got up, “thankyou so much” The urge to kiss her was getting high.

My hands cupped her cheeks, “pata hai kitni pyaari lag rahi ho aaj” she smiled at me.

She smiled at me and stole my heart again.

“Aise smile na kiya karo, jaan leni hai kya meri?” this was the first time I was this open with myself and my feelings, my feelings were taking over me.

“Maine kuch bhi- before she could complete her sentence, I kissed her.

I closed my eyes, and pulled her closer. Her lips tasted sweet because of gulab jamun, but I didn’t mind, I liked the taste of the kiss and her lips. I pulled back lightly and looked at her, before she could say anything, I kissed her again, “I love you” I said in between our kiss, “this is probably the first time I confessed and I mean it”

#Spotify #caratwritersclub #kflixnet #choi seungcheol #seungcheol #angst #seventeen #seungcheol fanfic #seventeen seungcheol #fluff #desi reader #desi romance #desi aesthetic #desi #riize seunghan #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol svt #seventeen fluff #svt seungcheol #svt fics #svt x reader #seventeen carat #seungcheol fluff #svt fluff #arranged marriage #kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop imagines #sangyeon

[ramblingoak]

A Few Scratches

Mushy May in Lucifer's Hollow: Day 18: Holding Hands

Copia x Aether

This fic is set in an alternate universe in a town called Lucifer's Hollow. It's sort of like a Satanic version of a Hallmark town. For Mushy May I'll be using the prompts to post little snippets of life for the humans and ghouls that live there 💙 Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together!

~ ~ In Lucifer's Hollow Copia teaches history at the high school and Aether is a firefighter. ~

Warnings: some whump here, mentions of injuries from a car accident, but it's mixed in with some mushiness, sfw, 960 words (thank you to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!)

The steady beep of the monitor was the most reassuring sound Aether had ever heard.

So was the feeling of Copia’s hand in his, the skin soft and warm.  He hadn’t been able to let go since the doctors had let him in the room.  Aether hoped Copia could feel it, he hoped that despite how scared he was still his presence was soothing in some way.  He knew Copia was going to be fine despite the stitches on his forehead and the cast on his leg.  The doctors had reassured him multiple times they were only keeping him overnight as a precaution but Aether still hadn’t been able to shake the fear that was making his chest feel tight.

It was different when it was someone you cared about, someone you loved.  Aether cared for everyone in their town whether he knew them or not but Copia was different.  Copia had quickly become everything to him and when he’d gotten the phone call from the hospital that afternoon it had felt like his entire world was crashing down around him.  Without Secondo there he might not have made it to the hospital.

He dropped his head down onto the bed, taking deep breaths to try and relax.  Copia shouldn’t be here.  He should be at home singing to ABBA in their kitchen or in his office lamenting the essay writing skills of his students.  Aether was never going to forgive himself for not driving him to work that day.  His other hand clenched in the bed sheets and if it wasn’t for the calming hand on his shoulder he probably would have started tearing them up.

“This isn’t your fault.”  Aether shook his head against the bed before sucking a breath in through his teeth and straightening up.  Through the tears in his eyes he saw Secondo standing there, a cup of coffee in his hand.  “Stop blaming yourself.”

“The only reason he was driving was because I locked my damn keys in my car.”

“Something we’ve all done before and something Copia has done many, many times.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that the one day I don’t take him to work this happens.”

“If you’re going to blame anyone you should blame that turista idiota.  Accidents happen.”  Aether didn’t respond so Secondo dropped a hand onto his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.  “Especially to my fratellino, as you know.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, thinking back to the first few times he had met Copia.  Both due to the man getting distracted and setting his kitchen on fire.  Satanas, he loved this man so much.  A sob escaped him and he leaned forward again, this time laying his head on Copia’s chest.  Beside him Secondo was a silent sentry, one hand still resting reassuringly on his shoulder as he cried.  Aether stayed that way until he began to feel fingers carding through his hair.

“Aether?”  Copia’s voice was quiet but strong.  When Aether lifted his head Copia’s hand fell from his hair and cupped his cheek instead.  “Stai bene, tesoro?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.”  He sniffled and scrubbed a hand over his face, grabbing Copia’s hand in his when he was done.  “How are you doing?”

“Like someone ran a stop sign and destroyed my car.”  Copia tried to sit up but immediately stopped, groaning as the movement jostled his leg.  “And me.”

“Non essere un bambino, fratello.”  Secondo smirked down at his little brother and took a sip of his coffee.  “It’s just a few scratches.”

“Come closer and I’ll give you just a few scratches.” 

“Cumulus has your car at her shop already.  I’m sure it’ll be good as new soon.”  Aether squeezed Copia’s hands, bringing one up so he could place a kiss on the back of it.  “You on the other hand need lots of rest.”

A soft snore was his only answer so Aether let go of one of his hands, gently lowering it onto the bed.  He adjusted Copia’s blankets, smoothing out the wrinkles as best he could.

“If he wakes up again, tell him I will check on his rats.”  Aether looked up at Secondo and nodded, feeling incredibly thankful to have this man as not just his boss but his friend.  The man gave him a stern look but Aether didn’t need to focus on his quintessence to feel the emotion behind it.  “Follow his lead and get some rest.”

He nodded, watching Secondo leave the room and close the door quietly behind him.  Copia was snoring softly, the pain meds thankfully doing their job.  Aether fidgeted in his seat briefly before deciding he didn’t care if anyone got mad at him for what he was about to do.  He let go of Copia’s hand long enough to untie his boots and then climbed onto the bed next to him, taking care to avoid jostling his leg and where Aether knew the bruises were.

When he was settled he took Copia’s hand again, smiling when he felt him squeeze it briefly.  His tail moved on its own accord, wrapping around Copia’s leg and making the man snort in his sleep.  Aether shushed him when his eyes blinked open and he mumbled something in Italian.

“Go back to sleep, love.”

“Mmm, don’t leave.”

“I won’t, I promise.”  Aether kissed Copia’s cheek and then rested his head next to his on the pillow.  “I’ll take care of you forever.”

“Forever, eh?”  Copia yawned then, wincing when it bothered a small bruise on his cheek.  “I like the sound of that.”

He was snoring again shortly after, his head turned slightly towards Aether’s.  The ghoul couldn’t help but kiss the tip of the nose he loved so much before settling down again.

“Me too.”

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

More snippets from this verse are on my masterlist under "Ongoing Series"!

Other Mushy May days: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17

#copia x aether #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #tales from lucifer's hollow #mushy may 2024 #oakie's writing #nameless ghouls #copia fanfiction

[el-255]

I find it so poignant in Epic the idea that all of Odysseus’s actions of ‘kindness’ so to speak always come back to bite him in the end (going to the cave to try and show open arms in trusting the lotus eaters, offering the wine to Polyphemus, sparing Polyphemus, his apology to Poseidon) except for his plea to Circe after denying her advances.

And you know why I think that is? Because it’s the only open arms approach that is completely sincere in nature.

Let me explain a little further, everything I’ve listed up to that point has been deception in some sort of way, they only went to the cave on the advice of the lotus eaters because they were desperate. I have no doubt that if given any other choice, Odysseus wouldn’t have gone. He only offered the wine to Polyphemus in an attempt to bargain for his and his crew’s lives and he ends up spiking it with lotus anyways so even if Polyphemus had let them go, he still would’ve ended up being betrayed in some sense. Him sparing Polyphemus is an act of spite against Athena and Polyphemus because he believes himself to be above any sort of repercussions and wants to taunt him for killing his friends. And finally, his apology to Poseidon is insincere at best because at no point does he ever utter the words “I’m sorry”. Not that Poseidon would’ve let him go anyways because I firmly believe at that point he’d already made up his mind to kill Odysseus and his crew but it’s the thought that counts and Odysseus clearly wasn’t sorry in the slightest, only sorry it came back to bite him.

Then we move to Circe and that’s when Odysseus’s luck changes when, after telling her that he will not cheat on his wife, she shows him mercy and helps him out. Because Odysseus was sincere in his affections for his wife and Circe, a woman who has been burned and abused by men in the past, has watched her nymphs suffer at the hands of men, and as a woman who deems all men as pigs because she believes they do not care for women at all, respects him for that. It humanises him.

It gives Circe some sort of hope that things could be better. Her line “maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer no more” may be immediately followed up with her declaring that instead one day it could need her more and things will get worse, but it gives Circe hope that she never had before. Circe already held the views of her final line, it’s nothing new for her to be untrustworthy of men at best, but for a moment, she wants to believe in a world where men are good and her nymphs would be safe even without her protection. A world where she would be safe.

All because Odysseus was finally being sincere to someone and genuinely poured his heart out which worked! Circe let his men go and helped them get to the underworld which she didn’t have to do at all, she could’ve sent them on their merry way and washed her hands of the whole incident but she didn’t. She wanted to believe in the love between Odysseus and Penelope and did everything in her power to make their reunion possible.

This makes his turn to becoming a monster in the underworld saga all the more upsetting because one good outcome to his kindness does not change others that got his friends killed so he completely gives up on it and embraces the role of being a monster who doesn’t care for anything but getting home, no matter the cost.

Even by the point of his plea for mercy from Circe, a part of Odysseus has already given up on everything Polites tried to in-still in him, but loves his wife so much that he’d never even fathom betraying her despite the fact that he believes cheating on her with Circe (unaware that her seduction is only a farce to kill him) will make her release his men and she’d likely never know that Odysseus had betrayed her. He still can’t do it, it’s Odysseus’s last ditch attempt to try and resolve things peacefully and he’s only doing it for the love of his wife.

It’s tragic irony that the very thing he believes in so sincerely, humanises him so much, and garners him the most help and sympathy is what leads to his downfall to a monster, his love for his wife and his son.

#epic the musical #epic: the musical #jorge rivera herrans #epic the troy saga #epic the cyclops saga #epic the ocean saga #epic the circe saga #epic the underworld saga #this probably makes no sense #but i’m doing it anyway #if anyone understands my rambling pls let me know my efforts to get my point across weren’t in vain 🙏 #basically rehashing what others have said before but infinitely more yapping #horrific overuse of the word because #please don’t judge me it’s like 1am

[derww]

//Lifesteal spoilers

TL;DR: Pangi and Spoke are definitely behaving very strange. 1k words

TW: Digging up a grave, non-graphic corpse

The first thing Pangi does is desecrate a grave.

He takes out a shovel — with some awkwardness, perhaps due to lack of sleep or a sore head — and, with an effort, plunges it into the frozen ground, wipes away a portion of soil — and again, and again, and again, until the cherry lid of the coffin appears.

He opens the coffin and frowns.

Zam, despite his many wounds, looks peaceful. Like someone who lived a very long life and died the way he wished. Cherry petals are woven into his hair. He's smiling.

Pangi does not look impressed. He snorts, as if dissatisfied with something. His relationship with Zam in the last month definitely could not be called the best. Zam tried to kill him, Pangi asked Minute for help, they quarreled, and they have never had a heart-to-heart conversation since. And then Zam died, so there was no one to talk to anymore.

He takes Zam's coat from the corpse.

To be honest, the coat is in a disgusting state — stained with everything possible, battered, riddled with holes, and smeared with blood — on the verge of unbearability. It's a dead man's clothes. It's unsightly.

Pangi puts it on.

The coat is too big for him. It smells like a corpse. Pangi adjusts his sleeves and closes the coffin. He stares at it intently for a while, as if thinking about something, but eventually turns away and buries it, tamping the plowed soil on top.

This is, after all, a very strange sight: the coat is quite obvious from someone else's shoulder and does not fit him in anything, but Pangi stands staring at the grave and holds onto it as if it means something.

And then he smiles, turns around, and walks away without looking back.

*

Spoke wakes up in the midst of the chaos of the room. He almost blithely dusts himself off, straightens his clothes, and pulls off his ski goggles. He squints, as if unaccustomed to his own eyesight, stretches, and puts on the enderchest.

He blinks his eyes in surprise. Laughs. Hides the enderchest. Equips armor.

There's something very wrong with the way he moves. Sharper, but at the same time clearer and more measured. The general relaxation and sloppiness were lost and replaced by precision. It seems as if Spoke was prepared for the fight, despite the fact that there was no one to fight with.

He changes his chestplate to elytra and takes off. He needs time to orient himself in the directions, but then he determines where to go and rushes to his destination.

The spawn is deserted — the expected consequence after half of the players got banned. By the time Spoke flies up to the podium, Pangi is already here; he childishly swings his legs from side to side, admiring the destroyed landscape and the rays of the daytime sun. All the grass around it is planted with dandelions and poppies. When he sees Spoke, he waves and smiles at him.

— Arrow cannon, seriously? — He laughs at Spoke, who rolls his eyes, — I thought you were better than that, bro.

— And this is what I get for trying to make everything at least a little interesting, — Spoke rolls his eyes, — they didn't even give me the last word. I won't play along with them anymore.

— I really hope so! — Pangi agrees and smiles,—Welcome back, Mapicc.

— Welcome back, Zam, — Mapicc nods,—it's good to have you back.

*

— Do you want my body? — Pangi breaks into laughter and instantly makes a very indecent joke.

They are in the middle of an old copy of spawn — sand, towers, and cherry trees.

— Yes, bro, — Zam calmly replies, — Leo jumped into the void; Wemmbu got stabbed; Mapicc got shot with the arrow cannon. Our opps are winning too much. I need to come back to balance things out. In the exchange, in s6 you can make me do anything you want...

Pangi abruptly stops laughing and stares at him.

— Do you really want to come back, Zam?

— It's cool in the afterlife and all, of course, but Mapicc would like that-

Pangi bows his head. 

— No, no, Zam, – he stops him, – do you want to go back?

Zam stammers.

— Um, — he hesitates, — yes, I think so.

Pangi nods. He's smiling.

— All right, Zam. You can use my body, — he laughs again, — until the season is over, I give you my permission. But be careful and don't kill me!

— You are the best partner, Pangi, — Zam rejoices.

— You should have realized that before you decided to kill me!

— Hey, I explained it, I couldn't bring myself to-

*

When the swearing and dissatisfied Mapicc finds himself in the afterlife, Spoke is already here — definitely not dead and not invited by anyone. He sits on the central chair of the presidential room and nods thoughtfully.

— You're not staying here, young man, — he says calmly, — you need to get back before this finale descends into the most boring nonsense.

— And what do you suggest, bro? I'm banned. — Mapicc throws up his hands, —that's the essence of hardcore. One death, and that's it.

Spoke laughs.

— You're not thinking wide enough, bro, — he taps his temple with a finger, — be smarter than that! Your team needs you to fight these... — he gets lost momentarily, — fans of syrups and nuts.

— I have no idea what you want from me, — Mapicc crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn't look happy, but it seems natural in the current situation.

— Bro, you give me your hand, — Mapicc reluctantly obeys, and Spoke grabs him and pulls forward — right up to the push, during which Mapicc's head goes round, until he finds himself on the other side.

Mapicc looks at Spoke. On his hands. He touches his head.

— Bro, — he says, and for some reason his voice sounds different, — this shit is insane. How are you even doing this.

Spoke burst out laughing. He looks habitually unperturbed.

— You have things to do! — he asserts and pushes Mapicc forward, — forward and with a song! Kill them all there!

— Will do, — Mapicc agrees, — will do.

#derw writes #lifesteal #lifesteal spoilers #lifesteal smp #mapicc #princezam #pangi #spokeishere #fanfiction #man its 9 am i had zero hours of sleep what am i even doing

[mozeloon]

on the good omens s2 finale ....

Finally got around to watching this show and at first I was very surprised with the turn of events in episode 6... esp Aziraphale saying "you're the bad guys" about hell, and in general being so happy to invite Crowley back to heaven with him. I thought, surely he knows Crowley would say no, how could he be so naive? truly a tough watch, i was cringing but so invested. And I knew ahead of time they were going to kiss!!! I didn't know it was going to be this way!!!!

I see a lot of parallels between Azi and Zuko's redemption arc in ATLA. In season 2 of ATLA, Zuko is utterly rejected by and pitted against the family and nation he has relied on/been loyal to. Now, he is completely relying on the one person who truly loves him, and he is forced by his circumstances (and gently guided by Iroh) to reckon with taking a new direction in his life. This involves a lot of grief and struggle, and finally, when Zuko starts to adjust to his new life, to find joy in it, he is offered the greatest possible temptation: a glorious return to his family and title.

His father and sister have not changed or regretted their treatment of him; Azula's coaxing at the end of S2, telling Zuko she needs him, is very similar to how she traps Zuko at the beginning of the season, telling him their father regrets his banishment and wants to keep his children close. But from Zuko's perspective, he wants to believe that they do have regrets – that they recognize his efforts and his actions (like how he asserts that "I have changed" when he joins Azula against the gaang).

We know from watching the series play out that this is a necessary regression in his character arc - he needs to encounter these temptations, and eventually turn away from them, for his redemption to feel earned and complete. If not given the chance to return to the fire nation, his life in Ba Sing Se could be seen as making the best of a bad situation - he could still dream every night of returning home.

To return to Good Omens, this is much how I saw S2 play out. Aziraphale, long loyal to heaven despite occasionally diverging according to his own morals, is left a little more on his own and is clearly a bit put out about "not reporting to heaven" anymore. He gets to enjoy shenanigans with the one person who unconditionally loves him, and gain confidence in the decisions he is making against the will of the heavenly bureaucracy, when he is offered the chance to get back everything he lost. Like Zuko, Aziraphale is manipulated into thinking that heaven has changed, because he is being rewarded for his actions with a promotion – so of course, they are on the same side!

I think, despite hearing Crowley say over and over that he is not interested in being on the side of heaven or hell, Aziraphale has always projected a bit of his own feelings about the matter: he thinks Crowley is just saying that because that is a way to make the best of their situation. Not to mention that they both feel that Crowley's fall was undeserved. Aziraphale, like Zuko, have both been indoctrinated to be grateful for any kind of recognition or acceptance, even if they are poorly treated in the process. I would imagine that Crowley, who had to unlearn this long ago, is also worried Aziraphale might be hurt or corrupted by the system around him.

For this reason, I don't think the Metatron will immediately reveal himself as evil and subdue Aziraphale, or that Crowley and Azi have switched bodies again, or that Aziraphale is already hatching some genius plan, or anything like that. In the same way that Zuko had to return home to realize he lied to himself about how his life would turn out, Aziraphale is still hoping to make a positive difference and find a way to reconcile these different threads of his life. This is at the root of his naive, black-and-white thinking during that final confrontation with Crowley - he's just desperate and trying to convince himself. Only once back in heaven will he realize he cannot fit back into his old mold.

I have more thoughts but that will have to be for another post.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #atla #my boy zuko :( #tv #zuko #redemption arc #the parallels of it all #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #good omens 2

[poisonlove]

Do you write angsty stuff?

Here's my idea:

Tara or Cairo x Reader

Tara/Cario are using Reader as a rebound after a failed relationship with Amber/Miller because Reader is in love with Tara/Cairo and they know it (It's been obvious to everyone but she was ignoring it. Maybe she didn't know how to respond, maybe she just enjoyed the attention.)

At the beginning Tara/Cairo tries to justify herself by saying R made it too easy, but..

...Long story short she starts to catch feelings. But then Reader finds out the only reason she got with R in the first place was to get over Amber/Miller.

Some sort of angst scene probably ensues.

Whatever ending you'd want is great to me.

But ofc if you're not up to it or you can't find the motivation: pretend you never saw this request. (feel free to dm me to say you don't plan on doing it though, i have a bad habit of getting my hopes up :p)

Used

Pairing: Tara carpenter X reader

Status: request

The café air was dense with the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans, and the soft murmur of conversations filled the space. I was sitting across from Tara, trying to start a conversation with my girlfriend.

But Tara was staring at her phone with an absorbed expression.

"How did it go today? Was the exam difficult?" I asked nervously.

Tara put down her phone and raised her head. Her gaze seemed lost in some distant world, my heart pounding tumultuously in my chest.

"Everything okay?" I asked, trying to break the ice that had formed between us.

Tara lifted her eyes to me, but her gaze seemed distant. "Yes, everything's fine," she replied faintly.

"Everything's normal at school… The exam was normal," she added weakly, her eyes glancing at the phone notification.

I played nervously with my fingers.

The atmosphere between us was tense, laden with a tension that seemed to grow with every second spent in silence. I wanted to say something, anything to fill that deafening void, but the words seemed stuck in my throat.

"And you? Everything okay?" she asked curiously.

Her eyes suddenly looked at me with total sweetness, and my cheeks turned red at being looked at with such intensity.

A small smile spread across her lips.

"It was a boring day… if it weren't for Mindy, I would have fallen asleep at the desk," I joked, and Tara smiled timidly.

Time seemed to pass slowly, the ticking of the clock on the wall seemed deafening in the oppressive quiet of the café.

Despite her bright eyes, I could sense that something was wrong with Tara. Her body was tense, her jaw was rigid, and every now and then she looked at me with eyes that screamed "I need to tell you something," but nothing came out of her mouth.

"I missed you," I confessed faintly.

I reached across the table and timidly took Tara's hand in mine. The brunette smiled broadly, making butterflies flutter in my stomach.

"Me too," she murmured weakly.

My eyes looked at Tara with total admiration, my heartbeats increasing recklessly every time she smiled at me.

Tara squeezed my hand.

I sighed, in love.

"Will you come over tonight?" Tara asked curiously, and I raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Me? In the same room as Sam Carpenter?" I asked skeptically.

Tara's older sister was very, indeed excessively, protective of Tara. But I could understand… Both had faced the events of Ghostface, barely coming out unscathed.

"She adores you," she reassured me with a smile on her lips.

A phone notification caught her attention, her mood changing instantly. Her smile was replaced by a dark, cold look.

Tara stood up, her face dark and troubled. "I have to go," she said quickly without looking me in the eyes. "We'll talk later."

Without waiting for my response, she turned and disappeared out the café door, leaving me alone with the weight of the silence that permeated the air around me

(...)

"Look who we have here," exclaimed an annoyingly irritating voice.

After the unusual afternoon yesterday, I had decided to give Tara her space and wait for her mood to calm down before facing her. However, there were questions burning inside me.

I slammed the locker shut, the metallic sound echoing in the air. I turned towards Amber Freeman.

"What do you want, Amber?" I asked with an exhausted tone.

It was too early to face such a rupture.

Amber chuckled maliciously and crossed her arms over her chest, looking at me with a raised eyebrow.

Mindy approached us and looked at the situation with confusion. "What's going on here?" my friend asked with genuine interest.

Mindy glared at Amber.

"I don't know," I replied to my friend with a small smile.

"I wanted to talk about Tara," Amber said sing-song.

My attention was immediately captured at the mention of my girlfriend: I knew Tara was her ex and that they had broken up for some strange reason… But now I didn't know what she wanted from her.

"Didn't she tell you?" Amber asked with fake innocence that made me grit my teeth.

Mindy widened her eyes and looked at me with concern. What's wrong with her? Does she know something Tara did? And why hasn't she told me anything?

"What was my girlfriend supposed to tell me?" I asked with a mix of anxiety and jealousy at the way Amber talked about Tara.

"The reason you're together," Amber said venomously.

"Amber, stop it," Mindy intervened, looking at the black-haired girl with anger.

What did I miss?

"What's going on here?" someone suddenly asked.

All three of us turned towards the sound of the voice and saw Tara looking at us with curiosity. Tara stood by my side and leaned in to give me a chaste kiss on the lips.

Amber made a strange noise in her throat.

"We were talking about you," Amber said irritably, her eyes looking at me with hatred.

Tara raised an eyebrow.

"She says you have to tell me something," I blurted with flushed cheeks, the warmth of Tara's lips still on mine.

"Come on, Tara… Tell her, or I will," Amber said challengingly.

Tara's body stiffened at Amber's words, and a strange feeling of discomfort invaded my body. Tara swallowed loudly and looked at me nervously.

"I…" Tara murmured timidly, biting her lower lip with nervousness.

"You know I'm in love with you, right?" she said, looking at me with worry.

"I'm in love with you too," I said in confusion, a smile spreading across my lips at her words.

"But…" continued the brunette with anguish.

I observed Tara closely, noticing the tremor in her voice and her labored breathing. The inner conflict tormenting her was evident, as if she were wrapped in a tangle of conflicting emotions.

"For God's sake! She used you to forget about me!" exclaimed Amber impatiently.

Mindy looked at me with concern, and Tara's shoulders stiffened at her ex's words. I smiled timidly at the absurdity of the situation and looked at the black-haired girl with strange confidence.

"The world doesn't revolve around you, Amber. Tara is in love with me," I replied, looking at Tara with a smile on my lips.

But my smile faded when I met Tara's gaze, her tear-filled eyes reflecting remorse and sadness. At that moment, everything I thought I knew was called into question.

"Tara… Is Amber telling the truth?" My voice trembled slightly, almost as if I didn't want to hear the answer.

My disappointment was palpable as Tara nodded, confirming Amber's words. It was as if a veil lifted from my eyes, revealing the harsh truth behind her actions. I felt as if I had been thrown into an abyss of betrayal and despair.

"I can't believe you did this to me, Tara," my words came out with difficulty, laden with disappointment and pain.

Tears began to fill my eyes, blurring my vision as disappointment seeped into my heart like a slow but lethal poison.

"I don't even know what to think now," I whispered, my voice breaking with emotion. "I feel so deceived."

Tara tried to grasp my hand, but I instinctively pulled away as if her touch could burn me. "Y/n, please… believe me when I say I truly love you," she pleaded, but her words sounded like a distant echo

My gaze drops, unable to maintain eye contact.

"What an embarrassing situation," Amber interjects with a satisfied smile.

Tara glares at her, her eyes brimming with anger and frustration. "It's your fault!" she retorts firmly, her voice laden with repressed ire.

Amber raises an eyebrow, defiant. "Oh, sure, blame me for all your mistakes," she responds sarcastically. "You never take responsibility for your actions, do you?"

The tension in the room is palpable as the two women exchange cutting looks and barbed words. I feel like a powerless observer in the face of this emotional storm, unsure how to intervene to calm the heated tempers.

But what am I saying? Tara used me and I’m still here, standing still?

The realization hits me like a lightning bolt, making the memories of the past few days flash through my mind. Tara’s behavior yesterday fits together like a puzzle: staring at her phone for no apparent reason, her empty eyes hiding who knows what thoughts, the nervousness she tried to conceal behind a forced smile.

"How stupid I am," I whisper, feeling a mix of anger and shame for being so naive.

Tara shifts her attention away from Amber and looks at me with guilt, the sadness and tears she had tried to hold back streaming down her cheeks. "Y/n, please… believe me when I say I really love you," she tries to plead, but her voice sounds empty to my ears.

"I don't think I can believe you anymore," I replied firmly, feeling a coldness take over inside me. "Not after what you've done."

Tara tried to take my hands again, tears silently streaming down her cheeks. "Y/n, please… I know I've made a terrible mistake," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "But please, I don't want to lose you. I love you more than anything in the world."

Her voice was a desperate lament, but my armor was now too solid to yield. "No, Tara," I said with a calm but firm voice. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to trust you again."

Her shoulders slumped under the weight of my words, and I saw the pain in her eyes as she struggled with the realization of the consequences of her actions.

"Please, Y/n, give me just one more chance," she pleaded, the tears flowing unchecked.

I slowly shook my head, trying to hold back the tears.

"Y/n…" Mindy intervened weakly.

I turned to Mindy, my gaze filled with anger and disappointment. "You knew, didn't you?" I asked coldly, the tone accusatory.

Mindy lowered her gaze, unable to meet my direct stare. "Yes, I knew," she admitted in a weak voice, her voice shaky with anxiety.

My anger grew, feeling the betrayal cut like a sharp knife. "And you didn't say anything?" I retorted, feeling the bitterness rise in my throat. "You let all this happen, knowing the truth?"

Her lips trembled as she tried to find the right words. "I'm sorry, Y/n. I didn't know how to tell you," she defended herself, tears beginning to streak her face.

My disappointment turned into fury. "I don't want to hear from you anymore," I said harshly.

"Nor from you," I exclaimed venomously, addressing Tara.

Without another word, I walked away from them, leaving the room filled with tension and bitterness. My legs wobbled under the weight of the disappointment as I headed towards the exit, desperately trying to put distance between myself and the cruel reality I had just discovered.

My mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions as the sense of betrayal sunk deeper and deeper into me. With a broken heart and a devastated soul, I found myself wandering in the void of uncertainty, unable to find comfort or consolation. My trust had been betrayed, my world upended, and I didn't know how recover from this devastating blow.

#Sad #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday x you #jenna ortega x y/n #traidor #jenna marie ortega #tara carpenter #jenna x y/n #jenna x reader #tara x reader #amber freeman

[asheepinthenight]

Hi! I read your IF for the first time recently and completed the survey so I didn't think I'd necessarily comment here, but then you gave this answer to the transformation ask: "I expect most MCs will transform metaphorically, but depending on your choices, they may get a few magical additions, too! I don't want to spoil too much, so that's all I'll say about it for now!"

May I say I literally squealed? I didn't expect actual physical changes would be a thing, so I just dumped that thought into the "impossible dreams" related to this game. This made me genuinely so happy! My MC is extremely open minded and fascinated by magic, so it's very likely it will go that way in my playthrough's case!

Oh and while I'm at it, since I'm writing already, I may as well ask something! So, I'll start by saying I love Hawk. I love Hawk so much. They may very well be among my favorite ROs in any IF I've read, despite the story clearly being in it's early'ish stages still. Now, thing is... While I feel like my MC has a pretty "easy time" getting close to Shea (strictly platonic feelings), I have noticed that in Hawk's case, the type of MC I have has less... "gentle" interactions with them. I don't mean Hawk seems to dislike my MC or anything (it doesn't appear to be the case) - but basically, my MC is soft and obedient overall, but also very responsible, and tries to manage everything as good as he can, be it cooking, not offending in any circumstances and what not. Basically, he's as non-problematic as possible. And from what I saw when exploring other choice options out of curiosity, I have come to realize most of the time interactions that could be considered closer to "emotional" are rather linked to MCs who are more clumsy and what not. Now, I'm not under the impression the game "favors" any kind of MC or that the relationships use "points" so I'm not worried per se, but I was curious if this will even out later on (as in, if some kind of scenes will be more exclusive to my type of MC), or is it simply that less "independent" MCs have an easier time early on due to Hawk's personality?

I just can't stress enough that I never felt as if my playthrough was lacking or anything! I just noticed more stuff when I read through some "out of character" options (as in, OOC for my MC) out of curiosity! And well, it got ME curious about the structure and the relationship!

I hope the question doesn't come up as too weird - like I said, the story is great as it is anyway!

I like having the surveys as an option for people, just for my own curiosity, so it will be interesting to eventually see how many MCs are hesitant to get involved with magic and how many are like, "Yes, I would like ALL of it, please!"

Those are great questions about the tone of Hawk's interactions with MC—answers are below the cut due to length!

Hawk is still very much at the stage where they think that MC will just be a brief, neutral presence in their life—no need to interact beyond the minimum. Just another being living in their tower, doing their own thing! The only big exception to that so far is MCs who are especially sensitive to their abrasiveness and/or prone to getting themselves into hazardous situations. If MC seems like they can handle Hawk's brusqueness and take care of themself (even if they're just pretending at it), Hawk will leave them to their own devices. But even though Hawk pretends they don't really care about anyone outside their tiny circle of friends (though it would be difficult to even get Hawk to call them "friends"), they very much do. So if MC seems like they're particularly sensitive to Hawk's whole... everything or are in dire need of assistance, Hawk will let their own guard down a little to help them without being too much of a jerk. It won't be too much longer before all MCs start seeing a softer side of them, though. More anxious and clumsy MCs just get an advance preview! MC's personality will flavor their relationship (e.g. MCs who like to banter with Hawk will see Hawk start that banter more often, and MCs who don't tend to banter will often get more sincere responses), but only specific, major choices will ever lock an MC out of a relationship with either RO. (Those choices will be pretty obvious and will probably even get OOC notes in the text to point them out!)

If you're curious about "points" specifically, TE doesn't have romance points, in the traditional sense, that will direct you to or away from either RO. In addition to a few personality variables for MC, there are a number of variables that track how the ROs view MC, but none of these will lock MC out of or into a relationship with either RO. They're specifically for making the ROs' actions feel consistent with how MC interacts with them. For example, there's a stat for each RO for the aforementioned banter as well as stats for things like trust and more traditional "romance" stats like flirting. Although some interactions may feel less romantic/friendly or may not appear depending on specific variables, that doesn't mean the relationship is doomed by any means! It may just be a little slower burn.

So this is a very long answer, but hopefully it helps! I see TE as more an interactive novel than a "game" that's focused on hitting target stats to pass checks. The variables it does have are solely for making the story feel true to who a given MC is and the choices they make.

#asks

[quotidian-oblivion]

Not-Yet-Written Fic Game

Tagged by @chemical-processes!! Thank you so much for tagging meeee. Especially in writer games, i love them <3

Post about some of the fics you plan on writing

I'm gonna do both batfam and Merlin for this one. You can put down any number of wips. I have so many, but I think I'll choose 10 😅 Feel free to ask about any of them!!! I'd love that ^^

No pressure tags: @sardonic-sprite @igotthisaccountunderduress @pericreatesstuff @foursixtwonineoh-pieces-of-lego @foineswoine-writing

@uncertainwallflower @cygnusdoesthings @blightwritesfic @wakkoroni

A Dance Across the Stream [BBC Merlin]

A slave!Arthur fic where I really pump up the angst. Arthur has been a slave for so long that people are starting to lose hope that he's even alive. His slavers decide to auction him since his past status, health and general looks will get them a pretty penny. He's collared by magic that hurts him if he doesn't listen to his masters' orders. As he stares down blankly at the faces and hands rising eagerly to buy a slaved prince, he hears a voice-

"Twelve hundred and thirty gold pieces!"

For the first time in months, Arthur dares to raise his head. Because he knows that voice. Has heard it incessantly rabbiting on, talking his ear off several times a day before his capture.

But it can't be him. It can't be Merlin. Because the bid for him was only open to sorcerers. And Merlin can't be a sorcerer.

2. Let Me Die, Let Me Drown, Lay My Bones In the Ground [BBC Merlin]

(I'm cheating a little bit cuz this is actually written but) My first fic where I really unleash my angst weapons. I wanted to test my limits. And I did.

The storm that had passed through Albion didn't only bring devestation, it brought a party belonging to the king, queen and princess of a distant land on the edge of Albion's maps. As per propriety and courtesy, Camelot was required to hold a feast and provide accommodation for them. The feast started off smoothly, the royals of Camelot getting along quite well with the royals from Harden.

But a single questioned changed everything. Including the destiny of Arthur and Merlin.

"What are your stances on magic?" Uther asked.

3. Doesn't have a name yet, but the wip doc is named 'My Limits Tested Through Merlin' [BBC Merlin]

While writing LMDLMD (the above fic), I discovered that the angst I put in there was not actually my full limit. I could push further. I could write worse. So I started this multichap wip. And it's going splendidly. Honestly, this fic is such a good jar to add my inner demons to. And I decided to work in some foreshadowing, juxtaposition, symbolism and all that lovely fun literary devices stuff because I found that I actually enjoy that process. So this might just be my best mutlichap fic yet!

Summary: That the kingdom they traveled to was peaceful was a lie. That the king was a good and fair man was also a lie. That Merlin, Arthur, and the Knights of the Round Table would be safe was the biggest lie of all. 

As Merlin scrubs the floor beneath the king's feet, despite the pains and bruises on his body, he wonders if escape will also be a lie. 

4. Empire For Two [BBC Merlin]

Part two of a two-part series. I've finished writing the outline and currently it's standing at 50 chapters, but as it gets written it might increase. Since it's MASSIVE and too much for me to take on alone, my lovely fwens Joan (@tireddruid) and Tristi are helping me with it! Joan's alpha and beta-ing while Tristi's gonna be a co-writer. For once, I'm not gonna start posting after it's written, but post as we write each chapter.

A Golden Age AU where I fix the fucking show.

5. Tim gets de-ages to a toddler fic [DC]

I've finished the outline for this too and it's currently standing at 21 chapters and I've already written 2. @mispeltnostalgia is beta-ing it ^^ And it's angsty. And fluffy! Majority of it is fluffy! But the angst at the end and major character death tag kind of overshadows the 19 chapters of fluff 😅 I also do a character study of Jason here. It's very enlightening.

Inspired by the very first fanfic I ever read (by choice) and Tim gets de-aged to a toddler because of a mistake Jason made. Jason's bonds with the family is already fragile and this mistake might just drive a further wedge between him and them. So he keeps the mistake a secret.

But the fact Tim is a toddler isn't. The batfam try their hardest to look after Tim while trying to find a way to age him back. Tim's an adorable kid but... there are warning signs. Too many warning signs. It makes everyone question just how well they had known Tim and his personal life.

For some reason, the toddler seems attached to Jason. And surprisingly, Jason seems to go actually well when dealing with him.

But after an explosive fight between Jason and the rest of the family, when Alfred opens the doors to the bedrooms, he finds both the toddler and the crime lord gone.

6. I Quit (not the actual fic name, just a wip name) [DC]

It started with a crack-genre scene where Tim accidentally resigns being Robin over the phone.

It quickly escalated to Tim running from the Bats, trying to cure Jason of his Pit Madness, and raising a 10-year-old assassin Damian when Talia mistakenly dumped the kid on him. Fully outlined, 19 chapters, I'm probably gonna start writing this soon.

7. Found Him [DC]

Not a multichap fic but a series with oneshots and twoshots and threeshots! Why? Because I was lazy and didn't bother with filling chapters. Why? Cuz I wanted to get to the action bits. Why?

Because this, my friends, is an evil!Tim Drake AU >:)

Tim wakes up in Titans Tower before Bruce and Dick can show up. He wakes up and all he sees is blood.

His blood.

He is in excruciating pain, but for some cruel reason, he can still think and feel clearly. His mind is not a haze, he has all his memories and he is very well aware of the carnage that has been made out of his body. Very well aware of the person who created the carnage out of his body.

In a Red Robin #4-esque style, Tim crawls out and sloppily secures the wounds that bleed the most, then grabs a bike and collapses in the middle of the road. The emergency services think he's a normal civilian boy since Tim had torn his Robin uniform and had ridden out in the blacks underneath. They manage to save his life but the damage was done.

Tim had snapped. He thought he was alone. And nothing was going to convince him otherwise.

8. All 'Board Mind Games [DC]

Inspired by Zugzwang written by sardonic-sprite. Ra's keeps kidnapping Tim and forcing him to play different board games from different cultures (cuz I like representation) and each member of the batfam is kidnapped along with him and with every time Tim loses, he gets to choose between forms of torture or being Ra's heir. Ra's gets what he wants either way because he wants Tim as his heir, but he also wants to see Tim suffer because he blew up his League's operations.

This fic I am so so so incredibly excited for because I am adding brain factors in it. Here is a plan for one of my chapters:

Damian — Barjees — Fear gas — "Be the person you needed when you were younger" (or Ideasthesia)

9. Talons (not the actual title) [DC]

What if Bruce didn't arrive in time to adopt his sons? What if the Talons did?

And what if, years later, Batman comes across four child assassins in Gotham whose eyes are screaming help?

10. Danny meets Tim (not the actual title, obvi) [DC x Danny Phantom]

Not very outlined, but the idea has been written down. During Tim's Red Robin arc where he's traversing the whole globe to find Bruce, one of the places he stops at is Amity Park. He heard about how ghosts are a regular here so maybe he can find something? Proof whether or not Bruce is alive?

Who he finds instead changes the whole trajectory of Tim's life.

~

And those are some of my wips! I am 100% planning on writing and posting all of them. They've all been outlined (except the last one) and are very much ready to be written or posted. I keep getting ideas after ideas for fics though so don't know when I'll be writing them 😂 Rest assured, I'm too excited to delay some of these wips.

#quotidian writes #quotidian fics #writer tag game #not yet written fic tag game #tag game #writers tag game #wip tag game #wip game #wips #fanfiction #fanfic wips #dc #bbc merlin #danny phantom

[bandzboy]

it pisses me off when people say that a boycott isnt going to do anything - so what??? youre telling everyone you dont give a shit about trying to make a difference when you disregard a boycott. at the end of the day, maybe a boycott does nothing, maybe it does something, but you are showing other people your character if you dont even wanna try. and that says a lot to me. like if you cant stop streaming your fav artists songs and buying their albums for a little bit for a CHANCE that it'll make a difference...your values are gross and you're spineless. talking about how you support palenstine doesnt mean shit if you dont put in effort to make a change, and honestly, not listening to some music on spotify for a little bit is NOT that big of a sacrifice. there are many pro palestine artists you can seek out and listen to. you can pirate. you can use youtube downloaders. there are so many options

sorry for ranting in your inbox. you're one of the few people in the tumblr kpop fandom i respect right now. also thank you for all your posts and the work youve been doing on here

yeah truly you are so right! no one can guarantee this boycott can work but it's not an excuse to not do anything! personally, i haven't been the same ever since i found out the big influence zionists have in the industry unfortunately and it did change everything for me and it made me want to make a difference! i don't want to buy albums and stream knowing that money will end up in these people's hands and it's truly just about being against their presence! they don't deserve to be anywhere for that matter and they are ruining music and directly and indirectly funding a genocide so if that information doesn't move a bit and doesn't make you want to do something to change then... something is wrong with you i am sorry. but it's like you said, at the end of the day, a lot of people are showing where their morals truly lie and what type of people they really are. it's not that i was expecting much from kpop stans but it's truly disheartening how some people indeed can't stand for anything and this is truly the bare minimum you can do if you can't do this and participate and at least have this conversation with us then... idk what to say

#also thank you for the last part of your message :< that makes me really happy #i'm trying to do my best and also make people aware #obviously there's the downside of having to deal with #weird people every now and then #but my mutuals + other people here have been participating and spreading info and that makes me happy #my hope is that sooner or later these people that are the so called anti boycotters #realize how dumb they are and join eventually #i have hope that despite everything there will be some change #no matter how long that takes! #asks #anon

[babacontainsmultitudes]

[just venting a bit into the void you understand you understand 😌] Lately I've been feeling very caught between "I have a lot of thoughts on Sparrow and Normal and all that with the ending and teen talk and feel like I need to get them out and voice them for my own piece of mind and resolution" and "I am lacking the strength and energy to actually sit down and write it all out and kind of really just want to fully move on to other things (AUs, fics, anything else)" but my brain can't seem to commit to either and that's quite frustrating cause it's just left me very restless. *Sigh*. Idk! Just needed to complain about that a bit ig, it's silly but this is what has been ailing me as of late.

#Then there's also a part of me that's like “does anyone even care at this point? haven't I already talked about them too much?” #but I have seen many a take that irk me... #and perhaps at the center of it all nagging at me is that persistent conflation of love and pride #Less about that in Normal's mind so much as in Will's and the fandom's 🤔 #Also that reoccurring issue of the fandom going ''Normal thinks this therefore it is The Truth'' though I believe I've discussed this befor #And... Hooks Will could have grabbed onto but didn't... Quite a few of those... #And the double standard/negativity bias in fandom of ignoring that Sparrow says both that he loves and likes Normal while doodlerized #But not treating those with the same legitimacy we do the pride thing. And ignoring Sparrow's demonstrations of love and change... #And what the love wolf scene actually implies about Sparrow (as I see it) with his own explanation of the pride thing in mind #But also!!! Also on Norm's epilogue and how despite everything taken at face value (i.e. no teen talk influence) I don't actually hate it #and I think it's plenty salvageable #And gah also that like *regardless* of how things turn out with Normal and his dad- #Well I haven't listened to much of the teen talk just the directly Sparrow-relevant clips #so I don't know quite how cynical Will is or isn't about Normal's future #But like. UGH. What I'm trying to say is even if things didn't find resolution vis-a-vis his dad #(which tbh I could go either way on- it's the meta misinterpretations of Sparrow that Bother me not so much Normal's) #(Well that's complicated. Again it comes back to the love vs. pride thing gosh this is so vague of me lol) #With all the positive influences in his life (and just the fact that life is long? and therapy is a thing?) I just don't see Normal- #being Miserable for the rest of his life. Like. I mean I won't elaborate here really but damn it no he can absolutely turn out alright stil #blugh #BUT YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN THAT'S A LOT OF STUFF AND THAT'S ONLY VAGUE RAMBLINGS ABOUT *SOME* OF IT #Like I'm proud of a lot of my essay posts (which I'm hoping to eventually compile in a masterpost eventually actually) but they take a whil #And if my heart wants to do other things... Ah idk... #ANYWAYS a vent to vent a vent to vent

[maraeffect]

really long quasi -spiritual post below cut

i just got this sharp, weird, specific ache in my chest seeing a cute little art about good days... wtf....i always get these weird flashes of this place that feels very familiar and bittersweet, but idk where it's from. and i think i just unlocked a different flash after like 6-8 months. i think what i'm seeing flashes of are images of the life i idealized for myself; from an amalgamation of daydreams and things i saw elsewhere that were beautiful and sweet to me.

idk what the images mean. i still don't know where they're from. one is just me standing in a snowy street in the middle of the night. there's huge trees lining each side of the road. i think maybe it's from a memory in Asheville as a child? on our way back home.

tonight what the new one was a flash from inside a car, that was driving through a historic/brick town district in the snow. the wipers were going to get the snow off the windshield. idk why, but i instantly felt so....sad. in the image i felt like things were calm for me. like there was a life there that i'd always dreamed of, where everything came easily and things were always beautiful. and then i snapped back to real life and felt so, so sad.

i'm not ever going to have these memories or flashes in time back to myself. i can hardly remember them anyway. but it feels like at some point, my life took a very sharp turn away from the things i had dreamt about. and that some ghost of me, in some alternate universe, might still be living life on that pathway. and they get to experience the version of my life that wasn't so traumatic. idk. as much as the images are so beautiful, and interesting. they hurt just as bad or worse when i realize that they're never going to come back for me.

#i think the sharp turn was when i got cancer the first time #granted. things are very different but in ways that gave me some of the best things ill ever have #i would have never met my soulmate uf not for the first cancer battle. its what made my parents move to Florida #nd thats where i met her. its really soothing to know that maybe it all actually went to plan #nothing ''changed'' or '' #''diverged“”*** but. it just set the stage for the wonderful things i experienced despite everything else sucking #it's just weird now how it feels like ive been living a double life against the version of me that never got sick. #it makes sense though. i think that part of me died when i got sick. and ill never get it back. #my innocence or my childhood or the part of me that hoped that everything might actually turn out okay. #we all keep going and move on bc time stops for no one. but i still think about her sometimes. #the one that died back in 2013. #chatter #long post