#and some of them definitely teach the WRONG message
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beepfuckingbeeprichie · 6 months ago
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This is actually really important! Our media reflects societal values and collective cultural fears, and is a way of CHALLENGING our implicit biases (not all the time; sometimes torture porn is just torture porn). The horror especially!! Horror movies are so viscerally upsetting ON PURPOSE bc THAT’S THE POINT! TO! TEACH! A LESSON!!
Midsommar? The eventual willingness to participate in atrocities if it means acceptance!!
NOPE? The exploitation of black bodies in Hollywood!!
It?? The harmful narrative of “kids will be kids” and the depersonalization of children!!!
The Fear Street trilogy? Systemic class divide perpetrated by white men in positions of power!!!!
I think some people forget that some literature and some media is meant to be deeply uncomfortable and unsettling. It's meant to make you have a very visceral reaction to it. If you genuinely can't handle these stories then you are under no obligation to consume them but acting as if they have no purpose or as if people don't have a right to tell these stories, stories that often relate to the darkest or most disturbing parts of life, then you should do some introspection.
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mygnolia · 3 months ago
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YOU MAKE ME GO CRAZY OVER YOU !!
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୨୧ -› hey, that boy over there..isn't he the most popular student athlete on campus? how did you two meet, anyway?
pair -› jock/athlete! enhypen x fem! reader | wc -› 3.5k (700 per member) | no warnings! | library
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˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ LEE HEESEUNG
im gonna sigh dreamily when i say he’s most DEF basketball captain. 
yes ik i wrote about this in wrong number i dont CARE i will say it with my whole chest 
DORK DORK DORK but cute dork with lethal face card. smirks after making yet another basket and winks at you
age old question how tf did yall meet!!! 
you pass by the gym and some guy on the way stops to talk to you 
like “hey i know you from somewhere”
“yes heeseung we were partners from a project two weeks ago how do you not remember..” 
he’s embarrassed asf especially because he remembers a lot of people’s names
after that he wants to be in your good graces and be friends
totally not because he remembered how you did a lot of the work for said project no complaints!!
and he doesn’t want you to rat him out to the teacher… or tell other people he’s not friendly
‘hey y/n, come to my game? i’ll do better if you’re there :)” 
you go only because you needed to complete an assignment while you were there at school anyways 
but sometimes you’d see him laughing with his friends, or how serious he is on court and woah, heeseung looks cool for once
you wait for him after because you figured he needed you for something 
“awh, you wanted for me?” “i could be doing much better things.” “awh, come on y/n let’s get some ice cream! my treat since we get to spend time together” 
he’s annoying but you let him tag around because he doesn’t bother you LOL
more under the cut!
drags you along when he practices alone so he can have some company
you like the company and the white noise too
you definitely doubt if he likes you because he is SUCH A FLIRT but no he DOES! he writes a confession on a basketball and ‘misses’ so you can catch it
you pass it back without seeing the message 
but heeseung keeps missing and it almost hits you on the head and you’re like ‘dude you SUCK hello??” he says ‘oh lol maybe it’s the ball” byee why was he smooth with it!!!!
you check the message and roll your eyes 
“if i make this you have to kiss me” you tell him and you’re about to shoot but he picks you up and brings you right next o the next to let you throw it in and then kisses u!!!!
not to be like oh im writing an smau on basketball captain heeseung but.. *tucks hair behind ear* 
most definitely tries to be mysterious and cool when you’re dating 
dribbles in front of you, trick shots, runs up to you when you’re alone, gives you one kiss between ever basket he makes 
teaches you how to play!!!!
ABSOLUTELY lights up when someones mentions you when you two date
“oh yeah my partner in math is ___” 
“omg ___?? the love of my life ___??” 
you lowk have to drag him away i fear 
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ PARK JONGSEONG 
baseball captain *faints* 
enhypen x mariners and him speaking in english…so you want me DECEASED 
baseball captain jay and you who attends his games because jake aka ur friend on the team knows you have nothing better to do 
“i bet you won’t make it even to five games before buying cotton candy” jake says because you have a MASSIVE sweet tooth 
you tried really hard because $15 and a burger was on the line 
and you kept coming because…well there was a cute captain who always knew how to rally his teammates and get them excited 
also great sportsmanship and was super friendly to everyone! 
definitely got mad when the umpire makes a wrong call 
sharp reaction times. EVEN SHARPER JAW. 
of course you stared! of course you were not paying attention to whatever jake was saying about his test after their game..how could you when jay was doing his lopsided smile as his friend pats him on the shoulder from ten feet away??
one time you come early because they’re practicing on the field and you see jay and jake passing to each other
jay just so effortlessly throwing the ball…oh my god
he’s just so perfect and jake cheers from the sidelines because he knows his captain pays attention to every single person who has stepped foot on the baseball field iNCLUDING YOU
you come up to jake after the fourth game, showing him you still had your $5 and your tongue wasn’t stained with any blue or pink
jay comes over, arm thrown around jake’s shoulder as he waves and smiles to you 
dark hair with a twinge of sweat as he runs a hand through it, pulling it back to place on his cap 
JAY IN A BASEBALL CAP *faints again*
he walks you out to the parking lot and asks what the $5 in your pocket is for because he keeps seeing you pull it out 
you explain your whole bet to him and he nods
next game. before it starts. he gets you cotton candy and makes sure it gets to you somehow 
you smile and you’re all giddy when you eat it because there’s a p.j. on the cap and he’s just so cute 
jake doesn’t say anything he already knows it’s happening between you two. 
jay finally writes on a baseball and tells you to catch, and it says ‘let’s date’ and you grab a sharpie and scribble ‘kiss me first’ 
OH YEAH HE WALKS OVER AND KISSES YOU. 
soon every game instead of cotton candy  it’s his baseball cap when it’s sunny, his jacket when you’re cold, baseballs with notes on them, and roses for his girlfriend aka youuuuu 
jay is such a romantic and he is not afraid to show it 
he orders custom jerseys that say jay/n on the back with the day you got together!!!!! 
BEST BOYFRIEND EVERRRRRR
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ SIM JAEYUN
rugby player jake but he has dark long hair let that settle in 
campus flirt campus playboy but in reality he doesn’t go on dates and nothing really happens past the smiles, he’s just super popular
you are also pretty well known! a little flirty but super sweet and your charm and how expressive and open you are with other people is what people like!
and he sees you cheering with your friend who he remembers is dating someone from the team
rugby has no gear so he just runs like no tomorrow 
smiling in the sun or determined stare as he talks to his team, you never know 
he yells either in frustration, victory, or defeat, literally will never be silent 
so after a game you follow your friend down to the railing and she has her little moments with her boyfriend 
and you and jake kind of awkwardly stand there for a moment 
he wipes his sweat off with a towel and smiles at you, cracking the ice 
“how long have you had to deal with that?” he points over to them 
you shrug and tell him “however long you’ve been dealing with it” he laughs 
oh wow his smile when he’s right in front of you is just so pretty 
and his little chuckle as he shakes his head and looks back up at you 
‘who do you watch on the field?’ he asks, with a little smirk because he likes you 
‘whoever catches my attention’ you tell him also smiling 
oh its a CHALLENGE. he will make sure to run on the side of the field you’re watching from, winking at you on the field, ugh just everything 
you come to a party at the end of the season to celebrate and he sees you 
“you came!!” super happy and makes sure you are next to him all the time 
“y/n you know the teammates, yeah?” you smile and congratulate them 
he leaves to get you a soda/water and jungwon leans in 
“jake LOVES to talk about you by the way” 
“yeah he always says how pretty you are in the library or in class, he likes when your friend comes because that means you come with her”
heeseung nods, “super into you, no joke” 
jake comes back trying to play it off “who’s into y/n?” 
you poke at his shoulder and smile, “you” and he’s all bashful and giggly 
loves to call himself ‘y/n’s girlfriend’ 
‘sorry, i can’t i have to buy flowers for y/n’ ‘sorry y/n needs me to help her study’ ‘sorry y/n needs a ride here’ STUCK TO YOUR HIP
ofc he doesn’t abandon his friends but he loves spending time with you :3
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ PARK SUNGHOON
sunghoon’s reputation proceeds him—cold on the court and just as reserved off of it
ugh he’s so annoying, he always has his bag in the same spot as yours and he always is at the water filling station with hos annoying 32oz bottle before you
also hogs that automatic tennis ball throwing machine like how are YOU supposed to practice tennis too 
‘hey i need that’ he furrows his eyebrows and shrugs 
‘i was here first’ ‘what are you twelve????’ sunghoon tells you ‘get here earlier next time then 
oh yeah. for the next week you ran to the courts everytime to get it before him 
one day he sees you and races you to the gates and you beat him 
sulky after as if his career is over
definitely varsity and one of the best, but he never approaches girls after his games
one time you go to a men’s game because it’s one of the most anticipated of the season 
its neck to neck, third set with 40-adv, sunghoon’s serve
he chases after that ball and sends it over, it barely hits the net and tumbles over, AND HE WINSSSS BRAHHHHH 
even if you hate him you will admit that he made the game extremely interesting 
you see his friends congratulate him and you notice that he never gets his clothes dirty 
always wears white to practice—pristine asf 
secretly he loves watching you too
even if you hate him for getting on your nerves some days and almost never doing more than bare minimum, you cannot lie and say sunghoon isn’t a huge inspiration 
just as you are to him 
sunghoon thinks your tenacity and passion for tennis is what makes you so fun to watch 
so even if he has homework, he goes to a game of yours and comes down to the court after the game 
bumps your shoulder after, ‘good game, y/n’ and you’re like ?? ‘you’re here?’ and he’s sooo nonchalant when he says ‘of course, i can’t miss a fun game can i?’ 
there’s a fun mixed doubles tournament for a whole gift basket of things and you come up to him 
‘hey let’s pair up’ and he grins 
you two play each other for practice and you’ve tied the score so many times you’ve lost count
and sunghoon’s a little annoying but oh lord he’s so attrative??? so maybe he wasn’t THAT annoying…
mixed doubles tourney rolls around and oh yeah. you two win.
you know much he likes natto and you say ‘here you take the natto’ he shakes his head ‘no you eat it all the time’
you two bicker and you say ‘fine lets just share it!’ and to your surprise..he opens the package and just mixes it all in 
you two sit and share the natto, then he tells you he thinks you’re pretty cool on court 
you raise your eyebrow cuz where is this coming from!! and he rolls his eyes 
‘nevermind maybe you’re only bright on the court’ 
‘hey what’s that supposed to mean!!!’ you take the natto and eat all of it LMFAO and then he pouts because noo his natto!!!
you kiss his cheek. it’s ok everything is ok now he is a happy boy 
“you’re my match” you write on a tennis ball pin and he keeps it on his bag like his life DEPENDS on it
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ KIM SUNOO
THE CUTEST VOLLEYBALL SETTER EVER 
i hate to be like oh you’ve had the fattest crush on him for like two months BUT ITS TRUE 
you’re on yearbook and you make an excuse to go see sunoo play!!
you two met when you were at a volleyball game and you told him to smile, but he’s one of those guys who says “wait delete that take another one!!” 
and ofc you agree, snapping a few cute photos of him
he posts to his social media, tagging you with a cute song saying ‘thanks photographer :3” 
and so you it begins, your small little crush on him..
he loves seeing you at his games, always makes sure to wave to you on the court 
hey so setter sunoo is insanely good at what he does 
so graceful when he places a NASTY setter dump on the other team, a glare shot at one of the other team’s members bad-mouthing him, but a glowing smile as he high-fives all his teammates! 
super supportive, and you loveee that about him!! he cares so much about everyone it makes your heart warm 
“here, let’s eat together,” you tell him, and you bring him some noodles you made because he said he was craving some 
he smiles at you and sits down, beginning to slurp slurp slurp and SCOREEE he loves it 
“thanks y/n, let me treat you some time :)” UGH DEAD DEAD 
KIM SUNOO KING OF FLOAT SERVES 
huge smile on his face when it lands where it needs to, he loves that feeling of satisfaction and soaks up all of your praise after his games are over 
he slips out of practice sometimes to see what you’re doing in yearbook, and he’ll take your camera to tell you to smile as he takes pics
someone in your class tells you too to look overfor a photo , so he loops an arm around your shoulders to pull you close and smile 
AND OH EM GEE UR LIKE TOTALLY GEEKING OUT OVER IT HELLO??????/ 
you ask her to print you a copy of it to save in your scrapbook, but sunoo cuts in and asks for another one 
“i like seeing you” DEAD IN A DITCH esp when he smiles at you and then runs off to practice before he gets in trouble
so competitive on the court and it makes him a little sulky when he loses 
“argh i did so bad today” he’d tell you, but in your eyes hello kim sunoo could do no wrong!! and you share your snacks while reassuring him 
he swears tho, “nooo, i had to look cool for you!” and you’re tired of hearing him say and do all of these sweet things and straight up 
“why?” “what do you mean, y/n?” “why do you want to look cool for me?” “well i liked you duh!” 
but sunoo never wanted to confess, he was too scared he wasn’t good yet at showing you all of his perfect bf traits 
WELL HE THOUGHT WRONG!! he’s been perfect from d1 so now he just sneaks in like 40 kisses before every game 
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ YANG JUNGWON
see so jungwon, he’s been a little FLIRTY as of recently. 
“you like older guys? but im a younger guy with rhythm” WHAT THE FKSCNHDJFD
whatever. anyways jungwon focuses on badminton like it’s a lifeline 
hitting birdies in his sleep would be smth he would do if he could, he loves how aggressive he can be in the sport without moving too much, lots of strategy involved 
you come to one of his games because your friend is on the other team, and you want to cheer him on
but jungwon notices you’re literally from his school?? 
isn’t it weird you’re going to a game for someone on the other team…
so he sets off a plan 
he goes to you after the game before your friend can
“hey, how come you don’t support anyone on our team” so straight to the point help 
and you tilt your head in confusion because “well i don’t know anyone from the team and you’re all scary”
scary??? jungwon makes it his personal mission to debunk that cuz no one is SCARY 
maybe sunghoon but that’s because he’s varsity 1 and the best player within 150 miles but whatever
he makes it his mission to wave to you when he sees you and when he’s sat next to you in one of your classes he’s like yay perf 
“you’re the guy from that badminton game huh?” “is that a good or bad thing” 
you shrug “whatever you want it to be” 
and he asks you to go to his next game but if he wins, you have to support the team and if he loses 
and you stare at him like “wtf do i get out of it” 
jungwon did NOT think about that 
he promises to buy you a snack after 
and it’s free food so you can’t complain 
you two talk more and he finds out you used to play badminton before you hurt your ankle and wanted to focus on school 
so he takes you to practice and gives you one of his expensive rackets
lowk falling in love everytime you laugh and chase the birdie 
jungwon pretends to hate chasing after it but he’ll still hit it back even if it’s out of bounds because he doesn’t want to waste your time picking it up
you two sit down and you tell him how fun it was to be able to play, and how much you missed it from your childhood 
your school holds a small festival where other school athletes go against your team modified lighting rounds 
paired with vendors and fun carnival stands, but the main attractions are always the variety of sports to watch
jungwon is one of the representatives from your school but so is your friend from the other school, so it’s heated when they play
you tie a ribbon around his racket (curtesy of sunghoon for helping you out) and write a note saying “if you do good ill cheer for you” 
AND HE WINS. so you keep your end of the bargain and cheer for him after the game is over, giving him a high five and a hug
he walks with you and asks about what you two are BECAUSE THIS IS A DATE this is date behavior 
“of course i like you won who wouldn’t”
let’s just say he gives u little kisses all over when you two are alone sigh so cute
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ NISHIMURA RIKI
he’s been on the soccer team ever since he was a freshman and even before, retaining his cute features and mischievous personality 
when you became assistant manager you were scared but your brother heeseung was on the team and your mom told you to look after him at school 
and riki takes after heeseung a LOT when they play and heeseung even goes as far as inviting riki over 
so riki’s super good at soccer by the time heeseung leaves, but he also has this small crush on you that heeseung’s told you about 
you just never said anything because you never had a reason to nor were you uncomfortable with it 
but junior year hits and riki comes back from winter break with pitch black hair all styled 
also…a lot taller than you. and no more baby fat 
and you paid attention to some of it because you saw him for practice, but the hair really did it 
during practice he loves to mess with you saying things like “can you fill up my water y/n pleaseeee” “no you have two feet” “ill win the next game against ____ if you get me water” “i’ll kick you off the team if you don’t win” 
he sighs and gets up, glaring down at you and you try not to let his playful stare affect you, but SOMETHING was different something was in the air
if riki doesn’t play good, it’s because his team manager aka you is NOT there 
you come back the next day to find out he was sulking and didn’t play super well because you weren’t encouraging him
“go run a lap, riki” and HE DOES JUST THAT “go practice on the field by yourself”
“how about you ask me to date you next” he grumbles 
and you HEAR him. loud and clear. 
but you’re like agh what if he doesn’t mean it what if he’s just joking 
at the next game he does super well and you congratulate the whole team 
yas team hybe eats 
you two are getting ready to go home when he finally brings it up
“you heard what i said on tuesday” and you know exactly what he means 
“yep.” “so why didn’t you say anything back” “i didn’t know if you were being serious”
he scoffs “y/n when have i ever not been serious about you”  
he opens your door even if he’s passenger princess 
makes fun of you for how much closer you need the wheel to be to drive
YAYYYY Y/NKI IS REAL
he loves to drape an arm around your shoulder walking around school 
acts as if he’s older when you two are literally the same age HELP 
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reblogs/interactions are appreciated always!
have some shameless self promo for my spiderman!riki fic!
and my upcoming jake fic!
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httpsserene · 1 year ago
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ʜᴛᴛᴘꜱꜱᴇʀᴇɴᴇ'ꜱ ꜰ1 ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ
ᴜᴘʟᴏᴀᴅ 1 : ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇꜱ ʟᴇᴄʟᴇʀᴄ / ᴍᴀx ᴠᴇʀꜱᴛᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ |ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴋɪɴᴋ
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📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: innocent and virgin !reader has never touched herself before. she knows how to, in theory, but whenever she tries, she chickens out. her tried and true way of receiving pleasure is failing her. she thinks that maybe it's time to allow her relationship with her two respectful and experienced boyfriends, to reach the next step. and she'll find that they're very willing to teach her a few things. 📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: 18+ only. smut. corruption kink. orgasm delay/denial. praise kink. dom/sub undertones. hair-pulling. possessiveness. slight choking (glimpse and you miss it?). brief reference to previous dub-con (very minuscule, not charles or max). no penetrative sex. 📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 8k words 📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: charles leclerc / max verstappen x fem!black!reader 📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: oneshot 📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: all mine • brent faiyaz
ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ: the strength i had to summon to post this is something crazy. it's my first smut fic if you can believe it or not, but the way i feel exposed to the world is wild. i almost forgot to include the actual kink because i got carried away, but it's there i promise you, don't get disappointed too early in! can confirm that while i was writing this i had to take several breaks and stare at the ceiling. the black!reader is vague i think, it's not noticeable until the end, but i had written it with all shades of my poc girlies in mind < 3. n e ways: hope you guys like it!
want to be added to my f1 kinktober taglist? or my general tag list? send me an ask!
huge thanks to my beta readers @lorarri and @sweetpiccolo-blog ! i appreciate y'all so much :)
cross-posted on my ao3, htpsss
here's the link to the masterlist for my f1 kinktober special, and send me a private message if you would like to be added to the list to become a beta reader in the future!!!
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it’s late. you’ve kicked jimmy and sassy out of the bedroom, and locked it shut. you’re standing with your back pressed against the door, staring with unfocused eyes. you moved your stuffed animals inside the closet and had them facing the wall even though you closed the closet door. the window curtains are drawn shut, and the only light in the room is the warmth of one nightstand lamp. one of the plushest towels max owns is spread across the bed. in the center lays a single pillow.
this is the last chance you have to get off before max and charles get home in a few hours. they’ve been gone for a triple-header, and you haven’t been able to orgasm once in the near month they’ve been gone. you’ve become depraved enough to consider buying a vibrator, but all packages delivered to this apartment have to be approved by max or charles to be sent up, and you’re definitely not bold enough to go out and buy one (and risk being seen by one of their fans or have to physically talk to someone to buy one).
the obvious thing to do would be to talk to your boyfriends, and tell them that you’re ready to start exploring the sexual side of your relationship. you’ve been dating them for two years now, and you’re afraid that they’re getting tired of waiting for you to be comfortable enough to have sex with them. but, you’re also afraid that once they learn how inexperienced you really are—they’ll make fun of you, leave you, and find some other woman who knows how to please them. you know that’s outrageous and never going to happen. they’re the sweetest boys you’ve ever dated (way better than that one dude you dated who tried to get you wasted enough to persuade you into having sex with him), and they’ve been very respectful concerning your boundaries. always pulling away when they feel themselves getting hard, and constantly reminding you to tell them to stop if you feel uncomfortable and that there’s nothing wrong with that, and that they’re willing to wait as long as you need, and will continue loving you regardless even if you decide to never have sex with them. so—of course you know that they won’t be assholes about your innocence—it’s just your own self-esteem, insecurity, and overthinking that prevents you from saying you’re ready.
you make a deal with yourself. if you can’t manage to get off grinding against your pillow one last time, you’ll force yourself to sit down with your boyfriends, stare them in the eyes and state that your ready to have sex. who are you kidding—you’re going to get off right now one way or another even if it kills you, because you definitely will wither away and die if you have to have that conversation with your boyfriends.
you walk over to the bed, heart beginning to race as you start playing one of those curated “songs i’d like to be railed to” playlists, before throwing your phone somewhere up the bed. you move to straddle the pillow, and begin to calm your heartbeat. you take a few deep breaths and let your mind wander. the first thought that comes to your head is the goodbye kiss you got from your boyfriends before they left. 
they had gotten all their luggage together and were pulling on their shoes at the entryway. charles was pouting at you, wide green eyes and all, “you are sure that you don’t want to come with us? for at least one of the races? we’ll be gone for almost a—“ 
“yes, cha. i’m sure,” you cut him off with a firm nod, “lemme give you a kiss before you leave, okay?”
charles frowned at max who laughed—like he wasn’t the one begging you to come with them last night before you all went to bed. with a little upset ‘hmph’ charles leaned down and kissed you softly. you had pulled away, only trying to give him a peck, and charles grunted disapprovingly. one of his veiny hands rose and gripped at your waist over your t-shirt, strongly pulling you forward, causing you to tumble into his chest. “oh, i am going to need more than that, mon ange,” charles smirked down at you, “i am leaving for so long, and that’s the goodbye kiss you’re leaving me with? no, i do not think so.” 
you glanced away from him, cheeks beginning to become warm as you make to hide your face is his broad chest. charles tutted at you, tightening his grip on your waist, and his other hand gently pushed your head up to look at him, “c’mere and give me a real kiss, pretty girl.”
you made a suppressed little squeal in the back of your throat, a noise max and charles became very familiar with, often present when they start teasing you. you surprisingly leaned up and initiated the kiss, causing charles to let out a shocked gasp into your mouth. his hand on your waist moved lower, falling to the small of your back and pushed your body completely against his. his other hand caressed your jaw, soothing you enough to allow him to control the kiss, as he flicked his tongue at the seam of your lips. you shakily sighed, allowing him entrance and the kiss deepened, a pleased humming noise in the back of your throat escaping.
you impatiently shift side to side on top of the pillow, not yet allowing yourself to get any friction. sliding both of your hands underneath your sweater—well, max’s sweater, and you start playing with your chest. flicking gently at your nipples, just the way you like. 
you could feel charles chuckle into the kiss, but you dismiss it, and keep kissing at him eagerly. however, you failed to recognize that he wasn’t laughing at you, he was laughing at max. cockily making eye-contact with him, before he let his eyes flutter shut and devoted his attention to you.
max stared on, his mouth slightly open as he watched his two loves give him a show for free. charles’ hand slipped lower, gliding over your ass, across your criminally well-fitted jeans, and found its home on the back of your thigh. max is well acquainted with how skilled charles’ mouth is, so he knows he must have done something spectacular to cause a choked-off moan to escape you, your hand raised to grab at charles’ polo in a fist, wrinkling the pressed shirt. max huffed, deciding to no longer spectate, and took the few steps to reach you across the foyer.
you let out a shocked gasp, eyes fluttering open in surprise at the feeling of your other boyfriend pressed up against your back. you attempt to break the kiss, but charles doesn’t let you. hand slipping from your cheeks to the nape of your neck, tangling in the hairs there and keeping you exactly where he wants. one of max’s hands came to rest at your hip, while the other rested on your navel. your eyes fell shut again in pleasure at how charles gently nipped at your bottom lip, and max’s presence is pushed to the back of your mind.
you didn’t register max’s hand disappearing from your abdomen, but suddenly, the air was cut with a pained moan from charles and his lips were ripped away from yours.
your eyes flew open, and max’s hand was buried in charles’ hair, tugging his head backward and maneuvering it into what must be an almost uncomfortable angle, but with how pleased charles looked—you wanted to feel it too. his eyes rolled backwards, before he pressed them shut and re-opened them to reveal dilated pupils and half-lidded lashes; panting hard, lips covered with your shared spit, and a fucked-out look in his eyes.
you struggle to pull off your sleeping shorts, eventually managing to tug them off to reveal your white cotton panties. your hand leaves your breast to touch at your heat, and you’re shocked at how wet you’ve gotten already. you use that same hand to adjust your pillow, before you let your hips fall all the way and make contact with the pillow. you sigh in relief.
now, max is the one to laugh with his hand firmly keeping charles in place. “oh, you know better than to tease me charlie…” he started, and you barely heard him. fixated on the way charles’ tongue frequently slips out to lick at his lips, but you could hear the smirk max was wearing. 
“and you’re also not the only one leaving our sweet girl for a month. you should be nice and let me have a taste too, hm? isn’t that right, schatje?” he directs at charles. max’s other hand made its way up your abdomen, copping a feel at your chest, before it rested across your throat. he wasn’t squeezing at all, but the weight of his hand, how it spans across your neck, and how you can feel the strength lying underneath his skin, caused you to lose your breath. he guided your head back and dropped his to get his own goodbye kiss.
the kiss felt like it lasted for a lifetime, but realistically it had to be less than a minute of max forcing charles to watch how he ravaged your mouth, before charles started whining loudly. max patted your neck gingerly before pulling away and laughing at charles’ teary eyes. your legs were trembling and you were pretty sure if max wasn’t behind you, you would’ve fallen long ago. in one smooth motion, his hand fell to the monegasque’s throat from his hair and pulled him closer, completely sandwiching you between them, as their lips met in a wild kiss. 
your hips start to rock against the pillow, keeping it slow in the beginning, learning your lesson about friction burn the last time you got too erratic with your moves too quickly.
charles—completely desperate—whined deep in his throat and max kept pulling consistently depraved moans and grunts out of your boyfriend. max’s other hand moved off of your hip to smack at charles’, a nonverbal command for him to calm down and let max take care of him. you felt charles practically vibrating against you in need, but he slowly started to calm; his posture slackening and lips slowing, allowing the dutch full control. 
the two of them were completely ignoring you. caught in their own world, putting all of their energy into their kisses, and in turn gave you a front row seat to something you're never going to forget about. you felt so small in between the two of them, like the only thing that kept you from floating away is the fact that you were stuck in between their bodies.
eventually, max released his grip on charles and separated from the kiss, giving charles air to breathe. the blonde stepped backwards away from your body, and you stumbled embarrassingly. max’s hands went up to hover around your waist (suddenly so shy to touch you) to make sure you actually didn't fall. charles shook his head, physically trying to clear the haze in his mind before he stumbled away from you as well, pressing his back against the wall. 
his chest was heaving with exertion, cheeks flushed a pretty red color, while his hands went to tug at his uncomfortably tight pants, failing to adjust himself to make his erection less obvious. he suddenly turns shy as well—it probably doesn’t help that max was laughing at how easy he is to turn on—, and charles tries to try and tug his shirt down to cover up his problem as best as he can. 
your hips start to pick up in speed, movements more sure and less shaky. the friction between the cotton pillowcase and panties is multiplied on your cunt, and when you rock down deep enough, the catch of the panties on your clit is nearly immobilizing. 
thinking about the moment before your boys left leads you into fantasizing about their dynamic, and how they are in the bedroom. that morning alone proved who was actually in charge; charles will tease and take whatever he can, as long as max allows him to. you can recall many instances of max guiding a well-fucked charles out of the bedroom and depositing him on your lap, before he went on to clean up and run the monegasque a bath. 
the multiple post-sex facetimes you’ve gotten from the two when they’re across the world always starts with max softly speaking, “i’ve worn him out pretty good, but he refuses to fall asleep unless he gets to call you.” and the phone is passed to charles, who’s voice and lips are ruined to hell and you have to decipher what he’s attempting to say.
you’re starting to acclimate to the current tempo, so you pick it up another notch. you lean forward, bracing your hands on the bed for support as you focus on doing deeper and slower grinds against the pillow, allowing your clit to get constant attention.
you find comfort in the fact that charles allows max to take him to such a vulnerable state, and sometimes—you even find yourself getting jealous. you started joining them to see their aftercare for yourself, and found out that you're aching to be taken apart and put back together like max and charles do to each other. 
the sound of max’s constant praises of charles being “so good for him,” and charles’s constant stream of “thank you, thank you, maxy” has you losing all train of thought.
you abandon the slow-and-steady technique, you’ve tried it several times this month and it’s failed to get you to come. you bite your lip, letting out a frustrated groan. your hips slow, and you grab the front of the pillow with one hand and pull it upwards, hoping that a tighter space allows better friction. you start moving quicker, doing smaller more shallow motions and it’s tons better. you can’t stop thinking that it would be even better to ride charles’ face. 
even though your eyelids are scrunched shut, the thousands of tiktok edits you’ve seen of your boyfriends post-race; balaclava lines, sweaty, messy hair, and all—are playing behind them. you moan out desperately, toes curling in your socks. you hear the phantom noises of monegasque moans along with the imagined whispers of dutch-accented praises. 
the knot in your navel tightens, your thighs begin to tremble, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing. this is it, the feeling that’s escaped you for a month, it’s returning, you can finally come. 
you start to rut against the pillow, uncaring of how your wetness has seeped into the pillow cover and sticks against your thighs—if anything, it’s just another pleasant sensation. unfiltered squeals and gasps start slipping out, you’re too blissed out to regulate your volume at this point.
but then, a minute passes and you still haven’t fallen over the precipice. it’s right there; you can see it, you can even hear it, but you can’t fucking feel it. 
your moans of pleasure turn into cries of frustration. your legs start to quiver with exhaustion, and the orgasm you almost had fades. tears spill from your eyes, as you frantically rut against the soaked pillow, not caring about rhythm or technique anymore. and your chance is gone, your sobs echoing around the room at another failed attempt.
you climb off the pillow and fall on your side, crying into the towel trying to muffle your anguished noises. you have the fleeting thought to think that you're overreacting, but fuck that. you’ve literally been unwillingly denying yourself for a month.
after you’ve cried yourself out, you get up and start to clean up the mess you made. when you lean down to pick up the shorts you flung across the room, you hear jimmy and sassy start yowling outside of the room. and faintly, you hear the front door open.
fuck.
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a giggle slips out of charles as the cries of the cats are heard outside of the apartment door. max shoots a glare at charles for laughing at his children, before he loses the fight and a smile slips out in response to the monegasque’s. finally managing to slip the key into the lock, max speaks, “we’re supposed to surprise her by being early, cha—maybe we should’ve let the cat’s know when we called earlier today?” they step through the threshold, quickly shutting the door behind them so the cats won’t run out. charles makes a questioning hum as they both start slipping out their jackets, “they are cats, mon minou. i do not think they care about anything other than when you come back to feed them.”
max side eyes him heavily as he squats down to untie his sneakers, and looks around slightly confused, “i think we are missing a greeting from one more kitten, wouldn't you say, charles?” the man in question nods in agreement, while finally petting jimmy and sassy to calm them down a little bit. whenever the two of them return home, you usually race to the door along with the cats. you give them warm hugs and sweet kisses, help them take their jackets off, and let them know if you cooked a meal for them, or prepared a bath. 
but tonight, they don’t hear the sound of your footsteps coming towards them. it’s rare for them not to be greeted at the door, most of the time you beat them to unlocking it, with the alarm system the cats provide. 
charles questions, “maybe she fell asleep? we did not tell her that we moved our flight earlier. and we did tell her to go to bed because we would be arriving late.”
max snorts disbelievingly, “when has she ever gone to bed when we’ve told her to,” he starts, “she’s probably just in the bathroom or something.”
the two spend a few minutes paying some attention to the cats, before they begin to get suspicious at the fact that you still haven’t come to welcome them back. they straighten up and start heading towards the bedroom. 
max pushes the door open, and everything looks normal except for the fact that you’re nowhere to be seen. the bed is put together, one nightstand lamp is on, and the bathroom is empty. max and charles stare at each other with matching baffled expressions, before you clear your throat in the doorway.
max jumps, “shit!” and charles flinches, “oh, what the fuck!”
your giggles reverberate through the air, and the two men can only laugh along with you. “oh? so you find scaring us funny, schat?” max teases gently. you pad over to him, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him in for a tight hug, nodding softly into his neck as you breathe him in. charles huffs after he’s deemed that you spent too much time loving on max before he pulls you into his own grasp, one arm braced tightly around your waist while his other hand cradles the back of your head resting in his chest. “she’s absolutely frightening, max, can’t you tell?” he teases back, defending you jokingly. 
max hums, “definitely. where were you hiding, baby?”
you freeze for second as you pull away from charles’ grasp, before stuttering your way through an explanation, “u-uh oh, i was-um, i was just in the laundry room! i was just putting a few things i had accidentally spilled uh- spilled juice on-yes juice of course, in the uh-washing machine, yes,” you nod firmly, to fully convince them.
the monegasques raises an eyebrow at you and dragged out an, “…….okay, i guess?” max follows up with a sarcastic, “yeah….we definitely believe you!”
you narrow your eyes at him, “are you calling me a liar, max? because, why would i lie about—“
charles cuts you off, turning your head back towards him as he squints at your face. he runs his thumb underneath one of your eyes, and speaks softly, “were you crying, mon ange? your eyes are red and swollen.”
you shake your head rapidly to attempt to dismiss his worry but it’s already too late. max practically teleports to your side and scans your face and with a gasp he reveals, “yes, you did cry. i can still see the tears stained on your cheeks.”
you shift uncomfortably, “yes, okay! i did cry! but it was nothing serious,” you pause and mumble the last part of your sentence, “i was just overreacting anyways, it doesn’t matter.”
max smacks his teeth at you disapprovingly, “hey, don’t be mean to yourself, schatje. anything that causes you to cry does matter. tell us, and we can try and make it better for you.” the two boys wear you down with earnest eyes; the monegasque brushes his lips against your hand comfortingly and the dutchman tucks your hair behind your ears soothingly. they wait patiently and don’t attempt to push you any further, but there’s an unspoken understanding between the two of them; they won’t let this go until you explicitly ask them two. and suddenly, your resistance falls and words start rushing out of your mouth.
“im so tired, okay? i’ve been trying for ages, ages, and i can’t get there! everytime i try, i-i-it’s like i’m right there–right there! and then it never comes! it’s torture. the harder i try to reach for it, the more it slips away, and then it doesn’t even feel good anymore! i thought this was supposed to feel good–and now what’s the point?! i don’t even wanna try again if i’m just going to be–”
“woah, woah, woah.” max cuts you off, “what are we talking about exactly, schatje? have you not been getting enough sleep or something? because we can try and–" you interrupt, “NO! i haven’t came in a MONTH! are you even listening to me?!”
charles chokes on his own breath and max damn near faints. most importantly, they’re shaken at your bluntness around the topic; every time they try to ask if you’ve been finding…relief–for lack of a better word, you tend to snap shut if they use any ‘explicit’ words with you– you tell them not to worry about it. so, to hear you say it plainly reveals how much distress this has been causing you. secondly, the thought that you’ve been desperately trying to get off for a month on your own, is a paralyzing thought. they nearly convinced themselves that you had no idea about anything sexual due to your refusal to answer any of their questions—which there would be nothing wrong with, they’d be happy to teach you how to please them and them alone. it’s a seductive thought, the fact that you’re untouched, that no man has had the opportunity to taint you and ruin your perspective on how you should receive and give pleasure. they’ve been praying for the day you’d be ready to let them teach you how to be good for them. maybe that makes them monsters, for taking advantage of your naivety and innocence, and molding you into their perfect girl, but they stopped feeling guilty for desiring this long ago. 
you seem to have missed the fact that you sent their minds reeling and continue venting, “i don’t know what to do, maxy!  i’ve been doing the same thing, and it’s NEVER failed me before. it’s cruel that it stopped working when you guys left me for more than a month! no matter how i did it–if i did the exact same things i’ve always been doing, or tried something new, nothing worked! i was literally just considering buying a fucking vibrator! a vibrator, charles, i’d rather run naked in the street than buy that online and have to put in this delivery address–”
charles gently presses finger against your mouth, shushing you. he pulls you into a deep hug, rubbing a hand up and down the length of your back , the motion pacifying you. he hums, and it vibrates through his chest to yours, “mmm, we’re home now, mon ange. there’s no need to run in the streets naked–” “definitely not,” max jumps in, reacting possessively at the implication of other people seeing you undressed. charles rolls his eyes and continues (like he’s not just as jealous as max), “or buy a vibrator. i know it must be so frustrating, to not cum,” you gasp softly, “especially when you’ve been edging yourself accidentally for so long, hm?”
a questioning sound slips from your lips, “hm? what’s edging? i just haven’t,” your voice drops to a whisper, “cum.” max thinks that he’s seriously fucked-up in the head, because he watches how you bury your face into charles’s chest after your whispered word, refusing to make eye contact with them out of embarrassment; and relishes at the fact that you absolutely have no idea about what exactly you’ve been doing to yourself. he’s going to enjoy ruining teaching you everything he knows.
“edging is repeated instances of sexual stimulation and stopping before your orgasm. it’s called that because you are kept ‘on the edge.’ you can do it to yourself or with others,” max states in an unfazed manner. he sees you start to relax, knowing that you find comfort in his matter-of-fact tone. 
a pout lowers your lips, “who would enjoy that? it feels terrible.”
max breaks out in a grin, slipping an arm around charles and squeezing at his tapered waist, “you know somebody who enjoys it very much, liefje,” charles blushes at the sudden call out, and watches the way your eyes widen in shock. max continues, “anyways, you may find that you enjoy it when it’s done properly—with people who are experienced enough to make sure you’re feeling good and keep you feeling good… and show you how to have a proper orgasm, hm?” max segways into the important topic, not allowing you to deflect any longer.
charles stops your attempt at hiding in his broad shoulder this time around, and firmly holds your face to keep you facing max. the dutch give charles a nod of appreciation and watches how he shifts on his feet at the acknowledgement; he might have to take care of him after he’s done with you, too. max allows your eyes to avoid meeting his, letting them roam his face as you battle your own insecurity.
“liefje,” max deepens his tone, knowing how you melt at any pitch similar to his morning voice, “there is no need to be embarrassed about your virginity and innocence. you had your boundaries set, and never bent or broke them to make someone happy at the cost of your comfort. no matter how much pressure someone applied to you, you refused to let them have you in one of the most vulnerable positions you could ever be in because you felt unsure or plainly uncomfortable with them. that is something you should take pride in and no one should make a joke out of your virginity for that instance. tonight, you can still make that decision if you are not completely sure on allowing charles and i the privilege of teaching you how to feel satisfied. we will continue to wait for you; you have the power here, not charles or i. do what is best for you at this moment, and if that changes, tell us so, and we will continue or stop at your will.”
the room is silent as the three of you digest max’s spiel. charles and max seem to be completely nonchalant about the matter, but they are trying to hide how anxious they are about your possible refusal, for your sake. of course they are hoping that you’ll accept their helping hands, or lips, or tongues, or coc—but, that’s not their main intention tonight. the goal is for them to start building a deeper level of understanding and trust with you, to where you allow yourself to be in your most vulnerable state with them. and that will take time; they’re not expecting you to completely reveal your innermost workings to them instantaneously. however, they most definitely want to show you how good they can make you feel and how good you can make them feel. and once you internalize that, then they can start working on showing you the wonders of sex—or plainly put, they can start tainting you.
you nod. charles eyes brighten and his cheeks dimple with the appearance of a wild smile. he leans in to kiss you in thanks, but max halts him with one finger to the forehead and a quick ‘aht aht,’ “that won’t do, liefje, i need verbal confirmation—words, please.”
“y-you can…you can help s-show and teach me how to…how to feel good. i am ready to have…,” your voice thins out, and suddenly you shake your head, eyes meeting max’s straight on in an unusual act of confidence, clearing your throat, “i am ready for us to have—i’m ready for you to fuck me.”
max wasn’t exactly ready for that wording and faltered, a little shook. charles on the other hand has to struggle to refrain from laughter. at the mixed reaction, your bravado slips away, and you add, “please?” charles loses the laugh automatically; your timid but desperate widened brown doe eyes stare up at the two of them, flickering between them anxiously, plump lips parted with your tongue flicking out—he has a few ideas of something he can offer to keep that mouth of yours busy.
max rumbles in satisfaction, “see, that wasn’t so hard, was it pretty girl? we’ll work on that confidence of yours for sure—but, i have a few rules for you first before we get started. charles, why don’t you tell our girl the first two?”
“number one, always answer our questions with words; if you don’t, we’ll stop and wait for you to respond. two, if you feel uncomfortable at any point, tell us, and we’ll stop what we’re doing and make it better for you or stop completely if necessary,” charles answers assuredly.
you nod, and max raises an eyebrow at you, “i mean, yes!”
max praises you, “you’re already doing so good for us,” he watches your breath catch at the sentence and figures he may have another praise kink on his hands, “you wanna be a good girl and tell me what you were really doing before we came home?” your cheeks burn and your previous embarrassment returns full force, but you fight through it, not wanting to break the rules right off the bat.
“well, you remember how i said my usual method wasn’t working anymore? i wasn’t lying about that. i only g-get off when you guys leave, andidoitbygrindingonapillow—and i have to put down a towel before becauseimakeamess. so! i really was doing laundry, i just didn’t spill juice on it…i kinda, spilled on it.”
charles’ hands fall away from you in shock, and max really doesn’t know if he can handle another revelation like this from you without actually passing out. you continue to over-explain, “and i i-i didn’t even get to, y’ know (oh my god, she soaked the pillow without even cumming, max!), and i got that wet anyway…and i can’t really control it, but if you guys don’t like it i can try and—“
“NO!” “PLEASE DON’T!”
you flinch away, and they apologize heavily for their overreaction.
“please, don’t, mon ange. i can tell you that max and i aren’t ever going to hate what’s between your legs, or what comes from there,” charles suggests with a smirk, before his face shifts to a more blank state “wait. did…did you have a chance to change?” you hum a little “mm-mm” glancing down at yourself still clad in max’s sweater and cotton panties, “uhm. no, i was a little more concerned with cleaning up the bed before you guys saw it so—sorry, i’m not a little more presentable—“
“are you wearing the same panties, mon ange?”
you freeze, brain lagging at what the monegasque had noticed. “mhm, yeah,” you whisper softly, playing with the hem of the sweater self-soothingly.
“can i,” charles takes a deep breath, “can i touch you, mon coeur?”
you squeak, “yes please, charlie.”
max watches as charles places his massive hand on one of your thighs, spanning the front with no struggle, and gently caresses his hand up, slowly making his way up your thigh. charles taps two fingers gently against you, and you spread your legs a smidge wider, and the sound of your thighs peeling off one another from the stickiness you leaked, reverberates around the room. max can’t help but let a moan slip out. charles slides his hand in between your legs, both of your own hands fisting at the hem of your borrowed sweatshirt, and you gasp at the lightest touch of charles pointer and middle finger against your soaked panties. max sees charles pupils blow wide and mouth drop open in awe—and he can’t wait anymore.
max presses his front to your back, sandwiching you in between them once again, and impatiently asks, “schatje, can i?” you let out a breathy ‘yeah,’ and max doesn’t hesitate to bully his hand in between your legs as well. he cops a more generous feel of your cunt, and groans at the state of ruin your panties are in.
“liefje,” max starts, “walk with me to the bed, please.” max pulls away, and unfastens one of your hands from the sweater to guide you. you turn around stumbling through your first few steps—charles sets you upright more prepared for your legs becoming jello than you are, and helps you over to the bed, one hand firmly set on the small of your back. max sits on the edge of the bed, man spreading comfortably, and watches how your eyes automatically fall to stare at his thighs with a smirk. he glances at charles behind you, who mouths ‘can’t blame her’ with a smirk of his own. the dutch pats his lap, “c’mere and give me a kiss, pretty girl.”
you rush to sit in his lap, slowing at the last minute, not wanting to sit your full weight on him. he huffs, and grabs at your hips situating you firmly on his lap, before leaning in and kissing you stupid. your gasp of shock transforms into a hum of pleasure, letting max have complete control of the kiss. his hand comes up to rest on the back of your head and moves you exactly where he wants, sucking on your bottom lip before slipping his tongue against yours. max kisses like he’s going to run out of time, he ravishes you completely. you squirm against him, pulling away to pant against his cheek needing air. max chuckles, and you only get to whine at his teasing for half a second before charles, who’s now sitting next to max, pulls you into another kiss. charles, on the other hand, kisses like he has all the time in the world, he draws it out. he keeps the kisses slow and closed in the beginning, pausing to pull away and thumb at your lips, relishing at how they’ve already swelled from max’s abuse, the surrounding skin already beginning to turn raw and sensitive from their friction of their facial hair. he continues kissing you, all tongue and sloppy not caring about about the way your hands come up to grasp at his chest in desperation, before switching to absolutely bruise your lips by nipping and tugging at them. 
your hips jump forward against max’s, and he can’t stop the groan that tumbles out. you jolt away from charles’ assault and stare at max with an embarrassed expression, “s-sorry—“ max narrows his eyes and dismisses your apology, “don’t apologize for that. you feel good, you’re allowed to show that unless i tell you differently.” 
“yes, max,” you answer, even though he didn’t ask a question.
“oh, you’re such a good girl for us, liefje,” he tests. and his instincts didn’t fail him. your hips twitch against his again, and a near inaudible moan slips from your lips.
he turns towards charles, “yeah, that works doesn’t it, cha?” charles nods, eyes still stuck on your lips. max smirks at charles being completely entranced, before turning back to you and clocks the glaze beginning to form over your eyes, “alright now, liefje, i need you to pay attention to me really quickly, hm?”
you hum, bobbing your head a few times, before you manage to get out a “yes, max.”
he holds your head steady with his thumb and pointer finger gripping your chin, “i’m not going anywhere, baby, take your time and focus.” it only takes you half a minute to truly focus in after your heart stops racing to give him another verbal confirmation before he continues. “tonight, neither one of us is going to make love to you—“ your shoulders drop and a frown is quick to spread across your mouth. you really only prepared for the situation that you’d tell them you were ready, and then you’d get railed into next sunday. you start to panic; maybe you came off too depraved, and he’s letting you down slowly—
“hey, hey, hey. no overthinking yet, let him finish, mon ange,” charles calls out to you worriedly, he’s experienced the same thought process you're going through before and would rather try and prevent the self-doubt from overtaking you.
max pets at your waist over the sweater and continues, “not tonight. we’ve just gotten off a flight, and had three back to back races. it’s late, and i’m sure all three of us are tired. we should initiate something like that with a clearer mind,” you feel a little selfish now, his points very valid, “but, i still want to give you an orgasm, okay? sure, you may not be able to get off by grinding on a pillow anymore. you’ve probably just acclimated to it and need to give it a break. so, to compromise: you’ll get off by riding my thigh.”
charles and max wait for your reaction. your frown lightens into a pout, but you’re disappointment doesn’t completely fade away. “how is that any different from riding the pillow? it’s the same thing.” charles laughs shakily, “oh, mon ange. you have no idea. listen to max and give it a try before you take it off the table completely.”
you shrug, and agree, “fine. how do i….uh how do i do the thigh riding, i guess?”
charles turns to look at max, wordlessly asking for permission, and max grants it with a wave of his hand. charles scoots up closer, and shifts your straddle from max’s whole lap to his right thigh. as soon as your pantie-covered cunt firmly presses on the muscle of max’s jean-clad thigh, a soft ‘oh’ croaks out of you. max flexes and relaxes his thigh once and your hips jump up and away from him. max and charles glance at each other; you’re ridiculously sensitive, they’ll have to see if that’s your natural state or if it’s just the result of your prolonged edging and the fact that you were grinding against a pillow not too long ago. charles squeezes your hips, bringing your attention to him, “i’m going to start guiding you now, you ready, mon coeur?”
“mmm, yeah—that felt really good, i want more,” you speak timidly.
“good,” charles states, and then he pulls your hips forward dragging you against max’s thigh, and a flash of heat zings up your spine. you moan, a small, breathy exhale, and charles keeps it slow at first, not pushing you down to roughly or making the motions too quick—he wants you to learn to love the friction again. barely a minute passes before your hips start fighting charles’ guided rhythm, and a frustrated groan slips out of you, not able to fight your boyfriends grip. max clocks back in from where he was watching the pleasure start to flicker on your face and asks, “what are you supposed to do, baby?”
“more-ah, please, charlie,” you moan shakily. charles smirks, “look at you, still using your manners like a good girl—“ a louder moan echoes, “okay, okay, mon coeur. i’ll get you there, i’ll get you to cum like you need, okay? i’ll make you forget all about your manners too, hmm?”
you stopped listening to anything after charles reassured you that he’s going to get you to cum, you believe him. he adjusts his grip on your hips and starts incrementally increasing the pace and pressure for you. your moans start to become more frequent, and increasing in pitch rapidly, the drivers can tell you’re hurtling towards your long-awaited orgasm, sooner than they thought. charles slowly releases his grip on your waist letting your hips take over once he’s sure you’ve gotten the hang of it. you throw your head back in pleasure, your hips have a steady grind and…and you’re feeling good. a suprised laugh slips out of your lips at that and shifts into a sharp moan when max starts flexing his thigh rhythmically giving you a little more texture to work with. max lets his heavy hands fill in for where charles’ and presses you down into deeper slower strokes. 
you cry out, it’s a little too much for you, but it feels so good, that you bear with it, they know what’s best for you, anyways. max grins down at you smugly, and you start to tear up a little; he can still feel your hips twitching away from the pressure sometimes. not wanting to push you too far with that motion alone, he lightens up on the pressure but starts bouncing his thigh. the shriek you release surprises all three of you, but you don’t run from it, if anything you lean into it more. one of your hands fists into charles’ shirt for support, and the other falls to max’s, tugging it off your left hip so you can hold it tight. max’s grin softens into a small smile and he kisses your joined hands, and charles leans into press kisses on your neck, praise slipping out of their lips freely.
“doing so good for us, pretty girl.”
“yeah, baby, that’s it. take what you need.”
“don’t be shy, let those sweet moans out for us.”
“just like that, oh! look at that, you’ve leaked all over his thigh,” charles points out. max looks down and registers that his pant leg is sticking down to his thigh and the denim has darkened with the amount of wetness. “oh, yeah. look at that, baby,” max pats on the side of your face, and you can’t even recall when you screwed your eyes shut, but you look down, and a mortified squeal leaves you. not much longer and you’ll have drowned his thigh. the dutchman sucks his teeth at you, “don’t be embarrassed, liefje. i can’t wait until i can taste it straight from the source,” he moves his other hand underneath the sweatshirt, and slips two fingers between your inner thigh while gathering your wetness. he sucks on one finger moaning explicitly at your taste, before offering both fingers to charles to clean off. the monegasque flicks his tongue out teasingly tasting them first, before he makes a quick motion of sucking them in and fully running his tongue in every crevice to get every last drop of your taste. 
you moans start to become pitchy little ah-ah-ah’s, and you frantically start rabbiting your hips. you’re so close. max squeezes you hand, and starts up the praise again.
“i wasn’t joking, schatje. when i finally get my mouth on your pretty little cunt, you won’t be able to pull me off of you until i force at least three orgasms out of you.”
charles pulls off of max’s fingers and adds, “i need to give her three or four from my mouth too. i don’t think she’ll be able to handle that many.”
“yes, she can. she’s such a good girl for us, she’d let us keep going until we tell her when she’s done.”
“mmm, yeah—she’s right there, look at that cute little face she’s making.”
“her pretty little o-mouth, we should fill that up for her too.”
“thinkin i’ll fill that sweet little cunt of hers first with my dick—“
what escapes your mouth is definitely a scream, and max can’t bring himself to muffle it even though it’s the middle of the night. he pays a hefty sum of money for this penthouse, they can deal with hearing how charles and him make you scream with pleasure. your orgasm completely whites-out all of your senses; ears ringing, eyes rolled back, skin feeling raw and thighs shaking. max and charles work your hips back and forth a few more times, helping you with the aftershocks until you squirm out of their hands. you fall forward into max’s chest, body trembling, and tears streaming down your face.
max cradles you close and scratches at your head, calling your name a few times to get a gauge of how out of it you are. with no verbal response, he sends charles to get water and a towel to clean you up. max softly murmurs praises at you constantly, and charles joins in with the affirmations when he returns. the both clean you up when you’re still floating; they put you in an oversized tee, not bothering with undergarments, wiping all wetness and cream away from between your legs trying to avoid looking at your cunt directly, they even manage to get your bonnet on for you, and even have time to change the duvet before you start becoming aware again.
you turn and automatically move to snuggle into the crook of max’s neck, but he gently presses a straw to your mouth so you can hydrate after the amount of fluids you seem to have lost. your eyes open, and you croak out a disapproving hum at not being able to go to sleep, and max shakes his head at you, “drink, schat. non-negotiable, pretty girl.” after slowly draining ¾ of the bottle, you pull away and with a shattered voice, start mumbling, “thank you, thank you, thank you—“
and charles leans over to cut you off with a soft press of lips, “no, thank you for letting us give you that, mon coeur.” you hum, whispering out, “i love you, charlie. i love you, maxy.” 
they both respond with resounding ‘i-love-you’s back, and start soft conversation just checking up on you before they let you fall asleep. 
“i’ve never felt this good before from an orgasm,” you start, “i wanna—i wanna keep being good for you guys. i wanna learn how to feel good like this again, and i want you both to show me how because i trust you. please?”. charles and max both murmur affirmatives to you, and you continue speaking softly, “you guys can take showers now, i’ll probably be asleep before you come back.” after making sure you’re truly comfortable, max and charles head to the en-suite to take the world’s speediest shower so they can cuddle up with you sooner. 
shutting the door, max and charles stare at each other in completely silence. charles starts, “are we sure that we’re the ones corrupting her and she’s not corrupting us? because, i’ve almost came in my pants three times tonight.”
max stares at charles with unseeing eyes, “i will never forgot the way she soaked my fucking leg, charles…i’m pretty sure i did come in my pants.”
taglist: @lorarri | @soph1644 | @jaydensluv | @fanboyluvr | @nissaimmortal | @redgonerogue | @hollie911 @saintwrld | @buendiabebeta | @butterfly-lover | @lana-d3l-rey | @dylan1721 | @spicybagel14 | @dhhdhsiavdhaj
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© httpsserene 2023
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rainerioun · 4 months ago
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𝖶𝖧𝖠𝖳 𝖳𝖱𝖮𝖯𝖤 𝖥𝖨𝖳𝖲 𝖸𝖮𝖴𝖱 𝖥𝖴𝖳𝖴𝖱𝖤 𝖱𝖤𝖫𝖠𝖳𝖨𝖮𝖭𝖲𝖧𝖨𝖯? | 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖽.
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— Hey there! In this reading, we'll explore which romantic/writing trope might fit your relationship with your future spouse best. Some of these themes can get pretty deep, so if you're not in the right headspace for that, perhaps come back another time. <3
ORIGINAL DATE POSTED : APRIL 15TH, 2024.
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HOW TO CHOOSE A PILE : The outcome may vary based on whether you receive clear messages visually or intuitively. If you resonate more with selecting a pile visually, trust that inclination. Personally, I believe the notion that 'looks can deceive,' so I prefer to take a deep breath and close my eyes, allowing the pile I'm meant to connect with to come to me. You might see the color of the pile, sense or hear a number, or simply feel its overall vibe.
Please don’t redistribute or edit my content.
MUST READ + MASTERLIST | KO-FI
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PILE ONE
ENEMIES TO LOVERS. | RIGHT PERSON, WRONG TIME. | STAR-CROSSED.
Romance Trope? Knight of Wands [Reversed]. | Ten of Wands [Reversed]. | The Hanged Man [Reversed].
For some, a person from your past might resurface. Either way, there will be a separation. When you first encounter your future spouse, one or both of you may be going through a dark time. I should state that this connection will never become manipulative or deeply toxic, which nobody should accept or endorse.
Nonetheless, this connection won't be smooth sailing in the beginning. While serious hatred will not arise, there'll be a struggle to understand each other, which stems from inner wounds. Seeing reflections of yourself in them, and vice versa, leads to frustration because neither of you has fully healed yet. Stubbornness on both sides leads to drifting apart. Impulsive actions worsen the situation, causing you to dislike each other.
Initially, I wasn't quite sure how to define the relationship because y'all aren't really enemies, just two hurt people.
Expansion. Community. | Hostilities. | Anxiety.
Your future spouse might come into your life through a friend or an acquaintance, perhaps in a familiar setting you visit often. The connection between you both sparks a profound realization, which leads to heightened anxiety and tension. It might feel like you weren't supposed to meet this person, but in truth, you were destined to cross paths. Because when you reunite in the future, you'll love each other through the toughest times and cherish each other even more during the best moments. You're meant to teach each other lessons that no one else could, guiding you back to where you're meant to be in the end. I definitely see sleepless nights, though. — You might find each other again in the place you originally met.
What Energy Will Your Future Spouse Embody? Dolphin : Innately Intelligent, Healer, Light Blessings. Bear :  Waking From Spiritual Slumber. Beginning Anew.
When you reunite, both you and this person have undoubtedly grown. It's a chance to begin anew with them at the right moment. Your future spouse has a knack for making people question themselves, but with you, it's particularly intense. While it may have caused hurt in the past for both of you, now you can work through it together.
While pulling the cards, I heard a distinct and amusing cackle, almost like a 'dolphin laugh,' even their giggles could be a loud and funny.
Insight. Hermit — Light : Seeks solitude to focus intently on inner life. Serves personal creativity. Shadow : Withdraws from society of others. Refusing to help those in need.  Father — Light : Talent for creating and supporting life. Positive guiding light within a tribal unit. Shadow : Dictatorial control. Abuse of authority.  Fool — Light : Fearlessly revealing emotion. Helping people laugh at absurdity and hypocrisy. Shadow : Using humor to wound rather than liberate. Denial of your emotional truth.
Your future spouse will always have an introverted nature, but before change occurs, they are extremely reserved, perhaps to an unhealthy extent. They could be overly engrossed in work, other projects, or family matters, possibly taking on a leadership role for their siblings, which can be stressful even if they don't live together. Beneath the surface, they have a playful side. In the past, both of you might have been a too naive, but you'll reconnect when they emanate this strong fatherly energy. I'm hearing, 'Young, Dumb, and Broke.'
Additional. Soulmates : Soul Connection, Partnership, Agreement, Soul Contract. Coffin : Endings Bring New Beginnings, Growth, Change, Liberation, Transition.  Separation : Sadness, Missing You, Thinking About You, Yearning, Unsure of Future. Clock : Need Time, Takes Time, In Time, Cycles, Time to Heal, Progress.
There might be a bit of a chase for a while, whether it's conscious or not. When you make efforts to understand them, they might pull away, and the same goes for you. As much as it feels strange to say it, the label of twin flames could suit this connection. However, you'll eventually overcome this phase. It's possible you were only meant to learn the lesson of self-betterment from each other in this life, but both of your paths took unexpected turns, leading you to find each other despite it all. You both will make up time from not only your younger years, but previous lifetimes.
When everything falls into place and you seek forgiveness from each other, this connection becomes truly extraordinary. It's profound and complex, holding such true beauty. Eventually, it settles into something steady, providing the stability and fulfillment you both crave. Life together feels as close to perfect as it can get.
Take A Walk : Passion Pit. | Salad Days : Mac Demarco. | The Blower's Daughter : Damien Rice.
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PILE TWO
FORCED PROXIMITY. | WORKPLACE.
Romance Trope? The Emperor. | Justice. | Four of Pentacles.
You and your future spouse will be drawn to each other no matter what, as if fate itself is pulling you together. You'll find yourself in situations where you encounter your future spouse frequently. I suspect this could be through some form of work. It's possible they might hold a higher position than you, maybe even a boss, though it's not necessary. They could simply have a lot of influence and trust. In some manner, this person plays a role in ensuring your financial stability.
Expansion. Angel of Strength. | Cornucopia. | Man Holding A Coin.
Once more, this person holds a certain sway over you. For some, this influence might stem from them being your client. They control your actions because they requested them.
It all depends on your current profession or your future plans. If you're primarily self-employed, even if you have a 'boss', this person might approach you as a client or possibly someone seeking work. However, if you're in a more corporate environment, they could be your boss or a colleague.
What Energy Will Your Future Spouse Embody? Dragon : Seeing One’s Most True Self, Balancing The Ego.  Bat : Darkness, Letting Go, Death Leading To Rebirth. Lizard : Instinctual, Sensitive to The Subtle, Dreamer.
Your future spouse isn't really the bossy type. They can be assertive but are generally understanding and flexible. I don't see a power struggle whatsoever. They could be a natural leader, yet I believe their compassionate and accommodating nature prevents them from being cutthroat or overly blunt. Their work is very important to them, but they also recognize the humanity in their co-workers.
Insight. Healer — Light : Passion to serve others by repairing the body, mind, and spirit. Ability to help transform pain into healing. Shadow : Taking advantage of those who need help. Failing to care for oneself. Thief — Light : Sheds light on the potential wealth within you that can never be stolen. Shadow : Stealing money, creative ideas, affection or other powers you think you lack.  God — Light : Benevolence and compassion. Recognizing the eternal force within yourself and others. Shadow : Despotism and cruelty. Using power to control people.
As I mentioned before, this person will play a role in guiding your career somehow. They'll have things to teach you, just as you'll have things to teach them. You might notice an increase in financial opportunities or wealth around the time you meet this person, probably because of their doing, but maybe not!
Additional. Karmic Relationship : Fleeting, Turmoil, Resentment, Lessons, Letting go and Loving you.  Camera : Reminiscing, Keepsake, Perception, Learn From the Past, Make Memories.  Girl Talk : Time with Friends, Moving On, Happily Single, Living in the Moment, Having Fun. Palm Tree : Stability, Security, Permanence, Growth, Endurance, Flexibility. 
Before anyone gets worried, let me clarify that I didn't take the Karmic Relationship card too seriously. I interpreted the message as affirming that this relationship will involve significant learning and growth. Not everyone will end up parting ways with this person, but everyone involved will gain valuable insights from the other. This connection could help both of you avoid repeating past mistakes. — As an alternate message, I'd like to add that it's time to let go of past relationships. Your future partner wants you to embrace self-love and believes in your ability to find happiness within yourself. Mastering contentment while single will not only attract them sooner but also teach you a valuable lesson that's ready to be learned.
Your future spouse will stand by your side and do everything in their power to support you. They aren't just interested in your safety and stability; they'll actively work to make sure it happens. Their actions speak volumes in this regard.
Partition : Beyoncé. | I Will : Mitski.
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PILE THREE
SECOND CHANCE. | FORBIDDEN LOVE. 
Romance Trope? Two of Bows/Wands [Reversed]. | Seven of Vessels/Cups. | Two of Vessels/Cups [Reversed]. | The Green Woman. | Ten of Bows/Wands.
For many of you, I don't believe this is just an ex. I sense a third-party element at play here. Pinpointing a main scenario is too tricky; it varies for everyone by a lot. Perhaps you meet this person through a friend with whom you'll later drift apart with. Maybe your future partner happens to be a sibling of a friend. The possibilities are numerous. Nonetheless, there's someone who acts as a bridge between you both, influencing the connection. You might even have someone in mind already as you read this.
Regardless of the circumstances, I don't think your future spouse is the cause of this temporary 'separation', which might end up being a lack of communication for a short period of time until the situation resolves itself. I can't see a time where your future spouse was previously unkind or unpleasant to you, but rather it's more likely that the mutual person between you two played that role. If there are any rumors circulating, your future spouse will likely discern who's at fault and support you.
Expansion. Angel of Love. | Fifth Chakra : Archangel Gabriel. | Magician and The Mirror.
At first, your future spouse might assume they're to blame for the fallout and feel guilty about it. This uncertainty might delay the reconnection, even though they're fully committed to being by your side. They'll struggle with how to initiate fixing things, but eventually, they'll gather the courage to try. This reconciliation could happen online, if that resonates.
The forbidden aspect of this connection might originate from parental expectations, like qualities they require in your partner. Remember, you always have a choice in this matter. If not, it's not necessarily wrong but might be viewed with disapproval, such as getting involved with a friend's ex-partner.
What Energy Will Your Future Spouse Embody? Tiger : Lunar Force, Ease in Darkness, Feminine Energy.  Raccoon : Talented, Shadowy, In Hiding. Hawk : Watchful, All-Seeing, Messenger of Divinity.
Your future spouse is incredibly passionate and generous in their relationships and friendships, and this will shine even more when you two reconnect. They'll be open and sincere about their love for you once they emerge from hiding.
Insight. Addict — Light : Helps you recognize and confront addictive behavior. Shadow : Compromises integrity and honesty. Allows an addictive pattern to have authority over your inner spirit.  Avenger — Light : Desire to balance the scales of justice. Righteousness on behalf of society or oneself. Shadow : Resorting to violence in the name of a cause. Seeker — Light : Thirst for wisdom and truth wherever they are. Shadow : Inability to commit to a path once found.
After reconnecting, your future spouse will become more righteous, not just in relationships, but in all aspects of life. They won't stand for their loved ones being mistreated and will seek truth in murky situations, sharing their insights to keep you informed. They'll be honest about areas needing improvement while maintaining their patient and kind nature. By this time, they will understand how to be straightforward yet gentle.
Additional. The Butterfly : Relationship Evolving to the Next Phase, Healing the Inner Child, Growth. Boat : Receiving What You Need, Progression, Arriving, Moving On, Closure Issues. Girl With a Snake : Empath and Narcissist Paradigm, Being Charmed or Used, Enable Boundaries.  Heartbroken : Deeply Hurt, Sad, Separation, Breakup, Feeling Lost, Grieving, Mourning.
Reconnecting with you will be a healing and transformative experience for them. It will bring closure to their past, and you might need to reassure them that your aren't going anywhere. It's a bit odd, but lately, I've been watching Supernatural, and this person reminds me of Sam Winchester. They have a strong desire to protect you, but sometimes they might overextend themselves trying to provide for you. Which isn't your fault at all, they just need a reminder to relax and slow down.
Killer : The Ready Set. | She Looks So Perfect : 5 Seconds of Summer. | Holding Hands : The Magic Lantern.
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PILE FOUR
FRIENDS TO LOVERS. | SOULMATES.
Romance Trope? Six of Pentacles. | Seven of Cups [Reversed]. | Three of Wands [Reversed].
Although it's one of the sweetest piles, it's also a tad messy. Not everyone will relate to this aspect, but take what resonates.
This person could be from your childhood or teenage years, or maybe someone you've recently met, or have yet to meet. Anything really. However, I feel for the majority it's someone you know. You have to figure this part out for yourself. But regardless, they're incredibly generous toward you, whether it's with money, affection, or understanding. However, this connection isn't without its challenges. Despite being very supportive, you'll have to navigate obstacles together. There might be setbacks or delays, but ultimately, your bond will grow stronger and develop into a romantic relationship.
Expansion. Strategy. | Storm Warning. | Healer of the Ages.
This part might only apply to a few, but I don't necessarily see it as your next relationship. Why? Well, because there are cards here, and later in the reading, that hint at some kind of breakup, which your future spouse helps you navigate through.
What Energy Will Your Future Spouse Embody?  Elk : Stable, Resilient, Headstrong, The Father. Turtle : Ancient Soul, Grounded, Trusting, At Home in the Self. Crocodile : Resting, Submerging, Collecting Energy, Cooling Off. 
Your future spouse will always carry the aura of a caregiver, being nurturing and extending their kindness towards both loved ones and strangers alike. They have a natural inclination towards being giving but possess a discerning eye when it comes to where and who they invest their energy. Their actions are consistent, and they seem calm and collected.
Your future spouse really embodies the ideal father figure and likely connect effortlessly with children. Patience and wisdom are strong in their nature, further enhancing this energy. They're like a true teddy bear until provoked.
Insight. Student — Light : Humility and devotion to knowledge. Openness to lifelong learning. Shadow : Arrogance in the pursuit of destructive knowledge. Unwillingness to translate knowledge into action.  Prince — Light : Romantic charm and potential for power. Shadow : Using power for self-aggrandizement.  Companion — Light : Loyalty, tenacity, and unselfishness. Shadow : Betrayal by misusing confidences. Loss of personal identity.
Think of your ideal "prince charming" - that's precisely who your future spouse is, whether in appearance or mindset. Gender doesn't limit this; it's about their energy and attitude. They have boundless curiosity, always eager to explore life and learn. Their fascination with you extends to wanting to know every detail, so they can envision and arrange everything in their mind. Loyalty and romance are ingrained in them, qualities you'll surely cherish. They're very charming.
Even in friendship, your future spouse exhibits a strong protective instinct, perhaps even a hint of possessiveness. You might not even realize your love for them until something sudden strikes. It's really like something out of fan fiction, where a seemingly random spark is actually the culmination of a slow burn. This realization may dawn on you when your future spouse defends or stands up for you in some manner. Suddenly, all the signs they've been dropping will become clear, and even the glance from them afterward will convey everything you need to know.
Additional. The Phoenix : New Phase, Rekindle, Renew, Transformation, Growth, Changed Mind.  Stabbed in the Back : Heartbreak, Pain, Separation, Deception, Shocking Attack. Palm Tree : Stability, Security, Permanence, Growth, Endurance, Flexibility. Mask : Not Showing True Feelings, Hide, Personify, Pretend, Delude, Gaslighting.  Sunglasses : Watching, Looking, Stalking, Gaslighting, Perception, Focusing Out. Keys on a Ring : Many Options, Decision, Unconventional, String Along, One Night Stand.
For those it applies to, I'm revisiting my earlier point about being in a relationship and your future spouse's good sense of judgment regarding character. If this doesn't resonate, feel free to skip and check out the songs instead. Thank you!
Your future spouse had already secretly admired you for some time. Aware of your existing relationship, they struggled to suppress their feelings. Amidst the chaos in their mind, they couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right with your partner. They wanted to reach out to warn you out of genuine concern, but you dismissed it as an overreaction. There's a chance your partner at the time suspected something between you two, leading to a sudden end to the relationship [Although, I don't think there was anything actually happening.] They might have harbored resentment for a while. But fear not, your future partner comes to the rescue. Whether they witness the breakup or support you afterward, you'll come to realize that your true feelings lay with them all along, but you were blinded by the allure of another. With too many choices before, you failed to think clearly and see what was right in front of you.
Like That : Jack and Jack. | Somewhere Only We Know : Keane. | Little Person : Matt Maltese. | Boyfriend : Dove Cameron. [Update: Forgot to add a song, sorry!]
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samsm2mstories · 1 year ago
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Straight Alphas
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You got to admit straight Alphas are something incredible until you meet their shitty personality. Lucas here is a fine example of that, thinks he can milk everyone for their money but he definitely messed with the wrong guy.
Poor Ben wasn't the greatest-looking gay guy but he had the most lovely personality as a gay. I saw the disgusting remark Lucas made to Ben and thought lets teach him a lesson! That night I swapped them both!!
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The next morning Ben woke up feeling completely different and felt incredible. He knew after a few minutes that he ended up jn Lucas body and boy did Ben not wait about. He was checking himself up, flexing, smirking all the time. He loved his new collection of clothes and knew from Lucas memories that guys would fight to have him.
Ben now Lucas knew it was time to go on social media and post up some new photos. Lucas admitted he was gay now in front of his new followers. The interaction went crazy, Lucas saw Ben's messages and they were absolutely funny. Lucas laughed at Ben but gave him the chance to make up for his arrogance. Ben thought he had the chance to his body back but that wasn't going to happen.
Lucas enjoy every moment seeing Ben being fucked by his former body knowing this was the closest he ever going to get.
The new Lucas definitely going places and got fuckboys on tap when he needed to release a load!
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tarotofhope · 3 months ago
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PAC: 「Which Aspect of your life should you put more energy into」
(Please Read My Pinned post *IMPORTANT NOTE* before selecting a Pile)
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Pick an Image by meditating and selecting the image you feel called to. You can be attracted towards more than 1 image. If you are not able to select maybe this reading isn't for you.
*TRIGGER WARNING* Many strong trigger messages are there in Pile 2 and 5. It's almost calling out toxic habits/people because some people are focusing their energy on negative things. It's mostly talking about shadow aspects. That energy could be yours or someone you're currently closely dealing with.
It was very hard to write both these piles for me but I couldn't skip those because it was important to mention them.
Please don't take any offense, if you think you don't relate to those piles or if you feel uncomfortable reading them, you're free to choose another pile. Don't let a reading ruin your day and don't take it to your heart.
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Pile 1
Wheel Of Fortune, The Fool, Ten Of Swords.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 1. You guys went through a lot of trouble because of your family patterns and beliefs/values or your ancestral trauma that has been carried down towards you by your family. There seems to be a lot of toxicity here. You don't like it and you're someone who doesn't want to carry it forward to your own offsprings as well which is such a righteous and courageous decision in itself. If you think you don't want to follow the same toxic pattern, you've already done half the work for your coming generations. That's very applaudable. The universe and your guides/angels will be so proud of you. This decision of yours itself is going to be a huge game changer which is why The Wheel Of Fortune appeared. It could be so that the elders of your family or your parents/guardian believe that, "We faced this trauma, this strictness from our parents so you're definitely going to have a taste of it. What's so wrong about it? It's normal." That's their toxic thinking which they inherited from the previous generations. One example I want to share here, which is very important. I was watching an asian stand-up comedy video on youtube where the guy(in his 40s) said to the young audience, "Your generation has become so sensitive that you cannot even handle beatings from your parents. You consider it as traumatic, toxic. You guys are so confused about your gender and sexual identity. Our generation suffered so much more than you but we never complained like you guys do. We never talked back to our parents/elders because we thought they can never be wrong. We accepted bad/toxic behaviour with ease and never argued back in defense and so we never complicated things for ourselves." But I believe, this kind of mindset of never speaking for yourself, never being curious to raise questions is always going to stunt your personal growth and development. If children are not questioning certain behaviours, parents must teach them to do so, that way parents can also win the trust of their children. Breaking toxic family patterns and creating a life full of freedom and hope for yourself and others should be your motto in life. You're not supposed to carry the same toxic family patterns towards your future generations. You should be the one who marks the end of it. If you feel the need to speak up, then speak up. I know we cannot change somebody's mindset but we can atleast teach the younger generations about what's toxic and what's not.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 1.
Love, light, hope and peace to you..🌸🌼🌻
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Pile 2
Ace of Swords reversed, 7 of Swords, The Tower and The Sun Reversed.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 2. You're someone very sharp and intelligent by birth. Like it's in your blood.
*Trigger Warning ahead. If you do not resonate, you're free to choose another pile, please don't take any offense. It could be you or it could be someone you're dealing with currently. Different people will relate differently.*
There's something bad that's happened to you because of which things took an ugly turn. You maybe started putting your energy into revenge or as a result of getting hurt, you're letting out all of your anger by using your abilities and gifts in negative ways. As I said you have a sharp mind, you might be using your intelligence in such kind of jobs where there's deception/gambling/fraud, in something that's not morally correct. You're not using your mind in doing something smart in a good way, which could bring more convenience to you and others. Whatever you're doing, you're very good at it but it does not seem morally correct. I'm not saying you're a bad person but you're letting out all the negative energies of what has happened to you on others. See, the way you think, the way you see it, matters a lot. If you think of revenge, then it will be so but rather think of fighting back, you can get back at people who cause great harm to you but are in denial or having no remorse whatsoever. Sometimes, other people can't do justice to you, if you are a survivor, you can do it for yourself because the victims who die in an assault/murder/attack etc don't get the chance to do justice for themselves. In this pile, I can also see a lot of jealousy and a habit of cursing people for doing the slightest mistakes which hurts you even a tiny bit. These could be the after-effects of a trauma. There's an advice to use your gifts and abilities for good things. You might be someone who themselves is very hurt and troubled but you might be doing the same thing to others. After The Tower moment that happened(means when you were probably deceived/betrayed or hurt), you might have started believing in the idea that, "There's nothing such as right or wrong, it doesn't matter. I don't believe in karma. Karma needs to first get to the people who hurt me and I don't see them getting their karma, so it doesn't work, I guess" or you still know the difference between right and wrong but you've become so cold that you don't want to give a care about it. You're also someone who is very hard to impress. Some of you also believe in working smart than working hard. You need to know that by seeking revenge or getting things by wrong means is only going to look good temporarily, it's not going to help you in the long run. Very few of you could also be into black magic and use it to get things done your way. You could also be someone having a leadership position but you're using authoritative power in the wrong manner. Focus your energy into healing yourself and then let yourself out into the world. The world needs people like you but you're doing the opposite. Let your scars be your strength. Surrender your hurt, traumas and troubles to the universe.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 2.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🌻🌼
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Pile 3
The Devil, Ace Of Swords, 5 Of Cups and 5 of Wands.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 3. It seems like you guys are not treated fairly at work. You're in a constant fight to survive. You might also be currently in an argument with a superior/parent/guardian/authority figure. You're quite disppointed and tired of your current job situation. Either you're doing this work out of an indirect/unspoken pressure from home, because you want to put food on the table or you're working here because your family wants you to or because you just want money to fulfil some needs. This work is taking a lot of your time and the income is quite unsatisfactory. This could be a family business or a startup as well for some people but something about it looks forced, like you had no choice. Lots of 5s here in the cards, means it's something which brings you sorrow, dissatisfaction, regret, disappointment. Some of you have recently left a job due to the above mentioned reasons. For some of you, this could be an educational course that you're doing out of pressure while for some of you, this could be your own happily chosen field of work but currently you're struggling to keep up, either you are not in good health or people have too many expectations from you. If this is something where force/pressure is involved and you're not okay with it then you should somehow try to get out of this situation soon or if this is something which seems out of your control and you can't get out, you need to do something as a side hustle or any relaxation activity/extracurricular activity which you like for your own well-being, but that side-activity should be equally calming and strong enough to get all that stress out of you. You will need to do a bit of balancing, a bit multi-tasking(which is work + relaxation activity) in order to keep your mind calm, otherwise, it will take a huge toll on your health in the long run.
So, that's all I got for you, my dear Pile 3
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌻🌼🌸
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Pile 4
Knight Of Pentacles, 2 Of Cups, Ace Of Pentacles, 2 Of Wands.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 4.
Lot of 2s here, so there's a strong wish for companionship in this pile. You want stability in your work and personal life. You are looking forward to finally settle down. But before that, you need to focus on your career, independence and money. Work, earn, settle down your finances and then marry. You could be under the age-group of marriage or could have crossed that age limit according to societal beliefs and norms but believe me, the universe works in magical ways. It's never too late to do anything. You must first focus on yourself and your overall growth then only you could bring that level of prosperity in your married life as well. This applies to your partner as well. We all have some baggage due to bad experiences and traumas but if it is something that's constantly been like an itch you need to scratch, then you need to first get rid of that itch. You need to be healthy and fit because I'm also hearing some of you are not happy with your looks/weight or something that is related to your body or you have some chronic health issues which you're dying to get rid of. There's also some problems with finances going on, some serious family issues and you know on the inside that you're not currently at your best. So, you first need to stabilise your finances and health before you jump into any serious relationships or marriage. I'm not telling you to not fall in love neither am I asking you to hold back. I'm just telling you to be ready and prepared before taking such a major step in your personal life because then it would be a total mess and you'll carry major regrets and insecurities later on because of the things you didn't work on earlier. What needs to be done earlier should be done earlier for your own sake. Don't think that things will change magically after entering into a romantic relationship or marriage. You're hopeful and being dreamy but you're not ready. If you think you're mentally quite disturbed and unstable, not well health-wise, not independent enough, finances are not good then you shouldn't go looking for a partner just because everybody else is getting into a relationship/getting married. Work on yourself first, what's meant to be yours will be yours and only yours to take. Nobody will be able to snatch it away from you.
So, that's all I got for you, my dear Pile 4
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌼🌻🌸
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Pile 5
King Of wands Reversed, Wheel Of Fortune Reversed, 9 Of Cups, Judgement.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 5.
*Trigger Warning Ahead. The following messages contains many triggers. Don't take it to your heart. If you do not resonate, you're free to choose another pile but please don't take any offense as this reading could be about you or someone toxic you're dealing with*
You could be too much dependent on others or others' opinion of you. I can also see a lot of toxic femininity and masculinity, blaming on others for your defeats, losses and bad luck but you are not taking an initiative to see where the problem exactly lies. We all are not perfect but this pile specifically seems to call out toxic traits. You are someone very kind and generous and you like to help people but at the same time your intentions are mostly directed in your own favor. It's good to keep yourself first but you might be extremely focused only on your needs. You might not like to accept a 'no' from others. There could also be an ego issue because of which you don't like to apologise to others. You could be someone who has created a stable home for themselves or someone who doesn't have anything of their own(it is either your parents' or someone else's resources), but there's an ego issue and a lot of pride. Now, here there are 2 kinds of people, ones who are deeply connected with their family members or atleast one or two people in their life whereas the other ones are not bothered by relationships at all. You could be someone who love pets and/or children. You might even be a quick judge of character because you like to observe but you might not be always right. I'm also getting a lot of greediness from this pile. There is little to no focus on self-growth and inner healing here. You might also be someone who gets angry easily, always wants an upperhand in an argument. You like to do things yourself while for some of you, you don't give enough credit to people who help you. Again, similarly to Pile 2, you might have great leadership qualities but a habit of controlling everyone your way, imposing your way of doing things on others. You need to meditate, pause and take a look inside your mind, body and soul. That's where you'll find your answers. Start putting yourself in other people's shoes and try to see the world from a different point of view.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 5.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🌼🌻
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stardew-shitposterino · 11 months ago
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The Bachelors and how they’d react if you asked them to start a family
Same old same old. This post is inspired by @babiebom 's post about the bachelor/ettes and how many kids they’d have :3 I’m not really a person who is too keen on children and being a housewife, but I can’t deny that the thought of a picture perfect family does warm my heart, girlies. Enjoy 💅🏻🍼
Some answers are gender specific. I hope to anyone playing the game as a same sex couple that you can look past that 🙏🏻
Sam:
-he’d be boots the house down in total shock
-don’t get it twisted, he is ecstatic, but damn he didn’t expect it to be this soon
-of course he is excited about every life stage of his potential little ones, but he can’t wait to have someone he can teach how to skate
-„really? A-and you’re not joking or anything? RAD!“
-maybe he is a bit too excited as he‘s definitely ripping his pants off his body as soon as the message sunk in
-„Oh you didn’t mean we should start it right now? Sorry my bad 😅“
Sebastian:
-he is happy but can’t really show it
-anxiety is kicking hard rn
-it’s not that he doesn’t want this, but he has so many worries, after all he had lived through himself
-he definitely needs some time to think about this
-„Y/N, I’d really love to have this with you one day, but please give me time to adjust to this. It’s a lot for me to process.“
-he will eventually open up about it and you agree on not rushing things. If you’re an opposite sex couple, you agree on starting a family once you’re pregnant. No planning, just living and if it happens, it happens (it probably happened after like 2 months after you had the talk lol)
Elliott:
-„Heavens, Love! What wonderful news. I’ve been waiting for this moment. This will be the start of our legacy!“ (excuse me bruuuhh this is how I imagine him talk lol)
-he had heart-shaped eyes if you haven’t noticed
-as much as he loves the romance and allure of being a childless couple with a world to their feet, he can’t kick the idea of being a wholesome dad raising a curious child with his wonderful partner
-he emphasises on not rushing things as he doesn’t want you to feel pressure. He knows how stressful your job is so he doesn’t want you to feel overwhelmed though you proposed that idea first
-you can bet your ass you went to bed after that talk 👀 WHO SAID THAT 🤨
Harvey:
-he is a blushy mess thank you and amen
-he‘s so anxious but also so excited
-no way you actually proposed this to him. He actually accepted his fate as a childless bachelor
-but here he is, finally getting the happy little family he always wanted
-but it isn’t smooth sailing with him, oh no. You can bet your ass he has to calculate everything through before he feels comfortable enough starting to bring this wish to reality
-you know, you earn a shit ton of money but he is anxious ok. He needs to KNOW the child won’t end up homeless with nothing to wear once it’s here
-“Oh this is all so new and, I-I don’t even know how to say it without it sounding wrong. I just can’t grasp that this is happening. Pinch me so I know I’m not dreaming”
-you didn’t sleep with each other that day but a make-out sess was in it. A wholesome one to say the least. This man is wholesome in my books 📕
Shane:
-the only thing missing here is that he fainted and fell to the floor after you popped the question
-say WHAT NOW?!
-no way. He probably heard it wrong. You didn’t just ask HIM to have YOUR children… no wait the other way around. This is what that question did to his brain lol
-or generally having kids together. He isn’t opposed to adopting because he fears the kids will inherit his messed up brain so taking in kids that are in need of a nice, welcoming home doesn’t sound bad either
-but no wait wait back to the topic; he’s a MESS
-he always wanted children and a family in general, the very boring ass white picket fence fantasy is what he longed for but kind of accepted that it’s something he cannot have. Well guess what…HE CAN
-“wait…did you- and you mean with me? Or is there someone else I should know about? Ok sorry bad joke. But you mean it?! Really? A little sibling for Jas🥹”
-just know this burly man started crying a river of joy tears. But once the tears dried and it kicked in 👀
-“ok if we want this to work out we gotta get to business 😎”
Alex:
-like Shane, he waited for this moment
-just he isn’t anxious like some of the others, he straight up jumps for joy lol
-“BABE NO WAY! I’ve been waiting for this!”
-he is a happy crier tho. Expect him to cry a little but in a good way
-but also expect him to propose the question of having a lot more kids in the future. He wants a football team of kids. But the amount is still negotiable of course (you gave him the “spouse stare” which made him go down a notch lol)
- he will babble about what gender the first kid might be, what he’d do with them depending on it and how he’d get them the smallest grid ball jerseys you’ll ever see because “LOOK THEY ARE SO TINY”
-like some of the others, he might be a bit too eager to start the baby project. Even if you can’t conceive yourself, he will live out that fantasy. You prepared yourself for this because it was very much predictable lol
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hellfire-state-of-mind · 8 months ago
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Clandestine
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pairing: Mr. Ben x fem! reader
rating: Mature (things get a lil heated 👀)
word count: 4.5k
summary: Mr. Ben is daddy, Ms. Jenny is mommy and they’re all a happy family at St. Lawrence High School, no crumbs left. But what happens when the cool aunt moves to town?
warnings: i did my best to leave out specific descriptions of reader except that she does have breasts and wear feminine clothing, infidelity, swearing, alcohol consumption, some heavy making out and implied smut, Ben has a daddy kink (as always, please message me if i missed anything)
a/n: my second submission for @beskarandblasters's Taylor Swift writing challenge! this one is based on "illicit affairs" from her album, folklore. being one of my top 3 albums of hers, i was excited for this prompt but i laughed so hard when Kel paired it with Mr. Ben 🤣 i had a ton of fun sprinkling in references (as well as a few extra swiftie ones too, if you look closely). this is also probably the longest fic i've ever written since i started writing years ago but this story really just took on a life of its own. i hope you all enjoy reading as much as i did writing and PS happy birthday, Pedro 😊
Teaching European History to a bunch of 10th graders is definitely not for the faint of heart, but the aftermath of the pandemic on the public education system only made the calling harder for you to ignore.
That’s why it meant so much to you when you discovered your students making fancams and claiming you as the “cool aunt.” You knew it was just their way of connecting with you and if it helped them pay attention in class and actually enjoy learning, what’s the harm? Some of the other teachers didn’t share your sentiment, but you were never one to much care about others’ opinions.
Until you met him.
Mr. Ben.
He and Ms. Jenny were the students’ absolute favorite teachers at the school, earning them the coveted titles of Mommy and Daddy. Their classrooms were both on the other side of the school in the math hall, so you never really saw them except at the monthly after-school faculty meetings. But one morning a piece of mail intended for Mr. Ben had been left in your mailbox in the front office by mistake, so you made the journey into uncharted territory.
Reading the plaques on each door, you almost thought you were in the wrong hallway when his name finally appeared on the last one at the end. It was slightly cracked so you could hear the scratching of chalk as he wrote on the board. Knocking lightly to announce your presence, you waited to hear him acknowledge you before walking in. His classroom was decorated to feel bright and cozy and welcoming, soft music emanating from the area near his desk. And the man standing in front of the chalkboard certainly fit the vibe. Soft but sturdy, carefully styled curls threatening to break free. You immediately understood why he was your students’ beloved and had them in a chokehold. You felt your cheeks heat for a moment when he cleared his throat to catch your attention, having been staring in silence for a bit too long.
“Can I help you with something?” Even his voice was so father.
“Um, yes. Sorry. I think some of your mail ended up in my box on accident.” You approached him, holding out the thin envelope. “It’s right underneath yours so it’s an easy mistake to make if you’re not careful.”
His thick fingers brushed yours as he took it from you, and you tried to steady your breath as you felt their brief warmth radiate up your arm. “Oh, good catch. Thank you.” He turned to place them on his desk and you were prepared for that to be the end of it, but he focused his attention back on you. “You’re new this year, right? I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Ben.” Extending his hand back out to you, you swallowed hard before taking it and replying with your own name. He repeated it back to you in understanding and you nearly melted at the way it effortlessly rolled off his tongue. The bell indicating the beginning of first period interrupted you before the conversation could continue any further. Bidding him a rushed farewell, you hurried back to the sanctuary of your own classroom across campus.
That was months ago. By the end of the year, the passing gestures became more frequent so that you were thankful for summer break to give yourself some time away from the man who had no idea his foot was always on your neck. Finally, you could breathe.
--
The weeks passed quickly and now you’re hauling boxes of school supplies across the parking lot. It’s the week before classes start anew and all of the teachers are trickling back in to ready their classrooms. You’ve just deposited the cardboard box on your desk when your phone chimes with a reminder about the faculty meeting in 5 minutes. You grab your lanyard, weighed down with your ID and keys, and head for the library.
When you arrive, everyone has already taken their seats so the only one available is next to him. Mr. Ben. Steeling yourself, you try to appear casual as you take your place. Feeling your movement, Ben looks over at you and flashes a captivating smile that you return without a second thought.
“Welcome back, kid. Have a good summer?” He launches into the usual teacher small talk but it’s not at all uncomfortable.
“I did. And yours?”
“Not bad. Nothing special, really.”
You hum in acknowledgement before Principal Owens steps up to the front, signaling the start of the meeting. In that moment, you come to a realization that you can’t shake. Nudging Ben’s elbow with yours, you lean closer and keep your voice low.
“I haven’t seen Jenny around, is she feeling okay?”
He chuckles before picking up on your sincerity. “Oh, you didn’t hear? She transferred over to St. Augustine.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. “Really? Can’t wait to break that to the students.”
“Yeah, you and me both.” He chuckles a little harder, earning a couple of sideways glances from others around you. You shrink into your seat a little as Ben attempts to cover with a cough.
You try to ignore the flutter in your heart, but you just have to know. “So are the two of you still…?” you trail off, hoping he picks up on your meaning so you don’t have to say it out loud.
“Yeah. Yeah, we’re still together. One less heartbreak for the kids,” he jokes.
“Oh, good. That’s good.”
And you mean it. If he’s happy, you’re happy. But a pit has formed in your stomach and you lose yourself in thought until Principal Owens makes his final announcement.
“There has been yet another surge of fancams created over the summer so as part of the first-day assembly, we will be including a segment on responsible technology usage. Ben, since you ate up the last one, would you mind handling it? After all, it was nom nom delish and had them gagged.” A burst of laughter ripples through the room as Ben runs a hand through his hair, amused.
“Yeah, sure. What could possibly go wrong this time?”
“Thank you. And if it’s not too trouble, I’d like to pair you with our newest target,” Owens gestures to you, conveniently sitting in the same vicinity, “so dubbed the ‘cool aunt.’”
You feel the heat begin to creep up your neck as you realize the implications of the proposal. You look over to see Ben nod and shrug as if to say “why not.” Looking back to the front of the room, you smile and nod in acceptance of the project. Inside, you’re trying not to scream. You don’t notice Ben holding his gaze on your profile for the rest of the meeting.
You retreat to your classroom after you’re all dismissed, willingly losing yourself in paperwork and organizing when there’s an all-too-familiar knock on your door. You look up just as Ben steps over the threshold. And closes the door. And crosses to perch on the edge of your desk, giving you an optimal view of the way his jeans stretch over his sculpted thigh and ass.
“So, how are you feeling about this assembly next week?” He leans forward, propping himself up on one arm. You force yourself to not look at the veins winding and disappearing under his shirt sleeve and maintain eye contact, which isn’t much easier.
“Good. I mean, is it supposed to be scary? What happened last time?” You remember the way everyone reacted when Ben received the assignment.
He smiles and huffs a laugh at the memory. “Let’s just say I was in your shoes now. I was just so confused about the whole concept. But it gave Jenny and I the opportunity to officially come out as a couple, so I guess it wasn’t all bad.”
The pit in your stomach widened at the mention of Jenny again. “Well, I’m glad I’m working with someone so experienced then.” You mentally kick yourself at your choice of words. What the hell is that supposed to mean? You try to recover. “Honestly, I’m a little flattered. It means the kids are engaged.”
Ben doesn’t seem to notice. “Yeah, it is kinda nice that they look up to us like that. Even if it is a little…”
“Unorthodox?”
“Right. It took me forever to figure out what it meant to have rizz and be a skinny legend.” He almost can’t get through his sentence as he’s interrupted by his own wheezing laugh. He fights it off long enough to finish his thought. “But it looks like you’re in your assembly era now, so what do you say we meet up here tomorrow and put this presentation together?”
You quickly agree, both in excitement and eagerness to get him out so you can get ahold of yourself. Satisfied, he rises but stops before he fully walks away. “By the way, I really like that perfume you’re wearing. Vanilla?”
“A-and cherry,” you manage to choke out.
“My favorite.” He smirks before raising his hand in goodbye and exiting the room, closing the door behind him.
--
The next week is a blur. You meet the next day to organize the presentation, as promised, but one conversation topic leads to another and before you realize what’s happening, Ben is putting his number into your phone. Then you’re giving him yours.
You keep telling yourself you’re just friends, like a mantra, but you can’t help but feel a sense of pride at the way he thinks you don’t notice how he inhales a little deeper when you lean into his personal space, taking in your scent. His favorite.
Even the assembly goes off without a hitch. Naturally, the students are disgruntled yet again at being reminded that fancams of their biases are banned, no matter how much they munch on it. But they seem to pick up on the friendship between their daddy and cool aunt and that’s enough to appease the juvenile masses.
You’re both dreading and looking forward to your free period. When comparing schedules, you and Ben discovered you had the same block open, so you agreed to make that a regular coffee break together. He’s already there when you walk in, bursting into his signature smile as you approach.
He stands and pulls your chair out to sit at the small table. “So, how’s the first day been?”
Accepting the gesture and trying not to read too much into it, you breathe out, “Pretty good. I can already tell that covering the Bubonic Plague is going to be interesting, but we will cross that bridge when we get to it.”
Once more, the two of you fall into an easy conversation when an ill-timed joke has you spilling your coffee. All over Ben’s tie. You immediately jump up, dashing to wet some paper towels. Ben rises to stop you, laughing at your mortification.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Hey,” he grasps your wrists, forcing you to turn and face him.
“I-I think I have a Tide pen in my room, I can go run and get it.”
“No need. I started keeping a spare in my desk years ago. You wouldn’t believe how often I spill coffee on myself.”
With that, you follow him back to his classroom. He closes the door behind you, crossing to his desk to rifle through the drawers, but you hang back. It’s only when he finally pulls out the replacement tie that you allow yourself to breathe and walk over.
Ben holds it up in jest. “See? Problem solved.” You hope he doesn’t hear the way you swallow hard as you watch him skillfully unwind his soiled tie from around his neck with one hand.
However, he struggles to knot the new tie and you speak up, “Need a hand with that?” You don’t know where the confidence came from.
He looks up at you, eyes a couple shades darker. “Would you?”
You round the desk and try to stop your hands from shaking as you reach up towards his chest. Your knuckles brush his soft button-up but before you can grip the decorative length of fabric, you feel Ben’s hands cradling your elbows. You slowly lock eyes with him, and the rest happens too fast for your brain to process.
Ben swiftly maneuvers you against the edge of his desk and leans in close, his nose to your temple, breathing you in. “You wear this just for me?”
You can’t lie to him. “Yes.”
He travels down to your pulse point where the perfume is applied, ghosting over the delicate skin there. “Good.”
He darts the tip of his tongue over the spot before moving to look you in the eyes once more, his hands journeying experimentally down to your waist. You’re fully trapped now. But you don’t want to escape.
He rests his forehead on yours as your eyes flit down to his mouth and back up. “Ben?”
“That’s not my name.”
You’re taken aback by his response for a moment before he leans in the tiniest bit more so you can feel the tickle of his mustache as he whispers, “What’s my name, baby?”
“Daddy,” you breathe out.
His lips twitch into a smirk before crashing against yours, sealing you to him.
--
Your escapades go on that way for months, innocently meeting in the teachers’ lounge to make your coffees and carrying them back to his classroom where they’re quickly abandoned. You easily get lost in each other, you perched on his desk as he stands between your thighs. You’ve discovered he likes it when you tangle your fingers in his curls, but you have to be careful not to muss them too much lest anyone catch onto your illicit activities.
You know it’s wrong. He and Jenny are still together, despite the different schools. Your mind is a constant whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. What if she finds out? Does she already know about you? Where do you stand?
But Ben is quick to make you forget your inner turmoil. You’re in your usual seat upon your throne of his desk, your blouse unbuttoned halfway to grant him access to your chest. His lips are latched to your collarbone, one hand cupping a breast and the other holding the knee you draped over his hip. You feel his hardness against your clothed core, knowing it must be painful for him. But you can’t cross that line. Not here.
As if rehearsed, Ben slows his movements to a halt, trailing his tongue back up your neck and jaw before reaching his final destination and molding your lips together. Wordlessly, you peel apart and put yourselves back together. You dare to break the silence.
“Ben?”
He looks back at you with those adorable baby browns that everyone at the school loves. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“Nothing, exactly. I just-” you cut yourself off, taking a deep breath. “At the risk of sounding like a cliché, what about us?”
“I don’t understand,” he says with a furrowed brow.
“I mean. We’ve been doing…this for a while now. And I can’t deny that I’ve grown to love the thrill of sneaking around with you.” You slide off his desk to plant yourself firmly in front of him. “But…you and Jenny...I guess what I’m trying to figure out is-”
“What do we do?”
“Yeah.”
Ben lets out a sigh and adjusts his watch. Noticing the time, he reaches for your arm and the two of you walk to the door. But he puts his hand on the handle before you have the chance to turn it.
“I promise we’ll talk about this. Tonight? I’ll call you?”
You press your lips into a tight smile. “Yeah. Tonight.”
Ben removes his hand and you exit the room. As if on cue, the bell rings to signal the change of classes and you pick up your pace to make it through the sea of students back to your room in time for your next lesson.
--
He does call. And you do talk. But ultimately you agree not to change anything for now. He needs time to figure out where he and Jenny stand but neither of you can bear to let the other go in the meantime. You try to hide your growing disillusionment at your arrangement, but you can’t tell if you’re truly that good at pretending or if Ben actively ignores it.
It all comes to a head the morning you sleep through your alarm, recovering from your hushed over-the-phone activities the night before, and you forget to wear your perfume. His perfume.
You’ve assumed your position when Ben suddenly recoils.
“Where is it?”
“Where is what?” You wrack your brain trying to interpret the question.
He slowly leans back in, inhaling deeply to make sure he didn’t just miss it. “Vanilla and cherry.”
The realization hits you like a ton of bricks. “Oh, B- Daddy, I’m so sorry.”
He nearly whines in disappointment. “Where is it?”
“I slept through my alarm. I must have been moving so fast this morning that I forgot it.” You twirl your fingers through the curls at the base of his neck. “I’ll wear it tomorrow, I promise.” Ben still doesn’t look at you. You tug a little harder, forcing his attention. “Hey. It was an honest mistake, I-”
“Did I do something wrong?”
The question jars you even more than the first. You want to reassure him but you can’t form the words and your hesitation speaks volumes.
“Baby, why didn’t you say something?” Ben pulls away completely now, leaning up against the chalkboard.
“What could I say, Ben?” You’re emboldened now, matching his stance. “That I’m tired of sneaking around? That I hate being the other woman but I feel this crushing guilt about coming between the two of you?” You pause to think carefully about your next words before just throwing caution to the wind. “That I love you and I want people to know it. Don’t you?”
You can see the hurt bloom in Ben’s eyes. “Kid, I…I don’t know what I want.”
But that hurts worse. “Really?” You reach to fix the few buttons he had managed to undo and walk towards the door but he steps in front of you.
“Hey, hey, don’t- baby, just- just hear me out kid, please, let’s talk-”
“Don’t call me that.” Your voice is tinged with cold.
“Call…call you what?”
“Don’t call me ‘kid.’ Don’t call me ‘baby.’ In fact, don’t call me anything until you figure out what it is you do want.” You swerve past him and yank the door open. “Maybe I’ll still be waiting for you.”
It takes everything in you not to slam the door out of respect for the ongoing classes around you.
--
You’ve mastered the separation of your personal and professional lives so no one can see through your façade for the rest of the day. But the last bell couldn’t ring soon enough. You pack your bag and leave just as quickly as any of your students and book it out to your car. You know you’re going to get stuck in the after-school traffic but it’s better than waiting it out in your classroom where he could find you. You’ve just unlocked your door when you hear your name. You don’t recognize the voice over the din of cars and school buses, so you search for the owner and immediately regret it.
Ben raises his hand at a car that stopped to let him pass and jogs across the pavement. You want nothing more than to scream at him but for the sake of keeping up appearances, you smile and let him approach. Your voice betrays your true feelings.
“I told you, Ben, I’m-”
“I know you’re pissed and you have every right to be. But I have something I need to say and I really don’t want you to misunderstand me, so could I please just get through to the end and then you can say your piece?” He sounds out of breath. “Please?”
You simply nod and lean back against your car, waving at passing students.
“Okay. I’ve thought about what you said. And truth be told, I have not been fully honest with you. But I want to change that. I want to talk about this. About us.” He takes a long pause, collecting himself, and you almost think he’s finished before he launches into it again. “Can I come see you tonight? At your place? Or mine, whichever you’re more comfortable with. I’ll cook and we can really talk. Face to face.”
“What about Jenny? She’s not going to wonder where you are?”
“Don’t worry about that. I’m taking care of it.”
You take in his words. It’s not exactly what you hoped when he said he had something to say but you’re also standing in the middle of the high school parking lot. It’s neither the time nor the place to hash out your relationship problems.
“Fine. My place. 7:00. But you’re not staying too late, it’s a school night.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ben lets himself smirk for a moment before switching back into teacher mode and bids you good afternoon, taking off back towards the school.
--
It’s 6:57 and you’re starting to curse yourself for agreeing to let Ben come over. But in a way, this is like a first date. Your first meeting outside of campus. And you can’t lie that the prospect of what could come after intrigues you.
7:00 on the dot and your doorbell rings, so you steel your nerves and open the door. Ben looks almost relieved that you actually answered and you step aside to let him in. In one hand, he holds an insulated bag of what you can only assume is ingredients for the dinner he promised to cook and in the other, a small bouquet of your favorite flowers. You accept those with a small smile and lead him into the kitchen. He begins unpacking the bag to start cooking while you dig through drawers to find a pair of scissors.
“Do you want some wine? You didn’t say what you were planning to cook so I pulled out a red and I also have a white already in the fridge,” you offer as you cut the flower stems at an angle and untie the bundle to arrange them in the vase on the coffee table.
“White sounds perfect, thank you,” Ben accepts as he rolls up his sleeves. You pull out the bottle and pour a little into two glasses, handing him one. You go to take a sip before he holds his out to you. “Cheers.” You clink and then drink, resisting the urge to down half the glass in one go.
You stand off to the side most of the time while Ben takes over your kitchen, falling back into your easy conversations without even realizing it. You have to admit you love watching him, the way his hands grip the knife and the vegetables he’s cutting, the sweat glistening on his forehead and the back of his neck from the hot stove.
The rest of the night feels…natural. Effortless. You almost forget why he came over in the first place.
You’re lounging on the couch with him, dishes washed and kitchen cleaned, wine glasses in hand when you finally cut to the chase.
“So what did you want to say to me?”
Ben’s eyes widen slightly and he leans over to rest his glass on the coffee table. “Say what?”
You need him to get to the point before you lose your nerve again. “In the parking lot, you said you wanted to talk. About us. So let’s talk.”
He lets out a nervous sigh and turns to better face you. “Right.”
You hold eye contact, expecting him to say more, but nothing comes. You sit up, putting your glass down next to his, losing your patience. “Ben, if you’re not going to-”
“I love you, too.”
The four words you’ve been waiting for him to say since the first time you kissed. But followed by more silence.
“That’s it?”
Ben opens and closes his mouth, searching for the words, but you cut him off.
“That’s not enough, Ben. The sneaking around, the stolen stares across the room, it was fun but it’s not enough anymore. You’ve made a fool out of me, but more than that you’ve…I’ve ruined myself for you.”
“You…what do you mean?” He leans in, careful not to intrude too far into your personal space.
“What we have is- is different. I’ve never had something like this and I don’t think I ever will again. You’ve shown me things, taught me things that I can’t ever share with anyone else. But this isn’t going anywhere and I’m not sure you even want it to.”
“I do!”
“And Jenny? You can’t have us both, Ben.”
“I told her.” The only sounds in the room are your individual heavy breaths. “We talked and apparently, she’d been feeling pretty distant, too. She was trying to work up the courage to talk me into counseling but when I told her about you…she let me go.” He curls his hand into a fist, stopping himself from reaching out and touching you. “I am yours and only yours. And I don’t care who knows it anymore.”
“Then prove it.” You feel as if your heart is going to burst from how fast it’s racing.
“I will.”
Ben practically launches himself across the couch, yanking you into his arms and smashing his lips to yours, as if pulled by an invisible string. You react immediately, curling your limbs around him, desperate to hold him closer. You gasp for breath when he breaks apart just enough to mumble against your lips. “Where?”
“Down the hall, last door on the left.”
In a flash, you find yourself deposited on your bed, dress crumpled on the floor, fingers flying to undo the buttons on Ben’s dress shirt. You shift your focus to his slacks, his rock-hard bulge ever prominent as you unzip. You move to pull them down his thighs along with his briefs, but he stops you. His shirt now gone, he nudges you to fall backwards onto your pillows and he follows.
His weight on top of you is intoxicating, finally able to feel all of him. The broadness of his shoulders, the contracting muscles in his back, the softness of his tummy pressed to yours. His mouth finds its home in your cleavage, nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh, the scratch of his patchy beard bordering on overstimulating.
“Ben-”
“That’s not my name.” He looks up at you with a devilish grin and emphasizes his point with a hard grind of his hips into yours. “What’s my name?”
“Daddy!”
His tongue soothes each bite as he finally journeys up your chest to your neck. Taking in a deep breath, he releases it with a sinful groan from deep in his chest.
“You wear this just for me?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
107 notes · View notes
salixsociety · 28 days ago
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Yes, I Hate Wicca.
A hopefully comprehensive guide to all my strifes.
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More often than I care to admit I find myself quarrelling with people over my seemingly baseless hate for all things popular and simple. I'm accused of being a pretentious traditionalist, of being a snob, even of being a white supremacist on grounds of talking about European culture as a replacement for conventional witchcraft. I will not deny that I am a touch snobby and pretentious - such is my biggest flaw - but I am not a white supremacist, and my loathing for many seemingly innocuous witchcraft practices is not for nothing. It is because I hate Wicca, and everything related to and derived from it, and I have good reason to. Today I would like to introduce you to every single reason I have to loathe Wicca passionately, so that I can hopefully defer future debate partners to this post instead of retyping the same arduous messages.
What is Wicca?
Per the r/Wicca subreddit:
Wicca is a neopagan religion based on ancient pagan beliefs. It's an earth-based religion that believes in a God and Goddess as representative of a greater pantheistic godhead. Wicca includes a system of ethics and teaches that we all are ultimately responsible for our own actions. We believe in gods. We believe in magic. We believe in multiple realities. We practice alone, or in groups. We practice witchcraft.
I chose the r/Wicca subreddit for my first primer because it's easy to accuse people of misrepresenting a faith if you do not allow the community to speak for itself on what their faith constitutes. As much as I hate Wicca, and do not think it is redeemable, I have no desire to be accused of letting my hate set the tone of my arguments against it. I don't want to give militant Wiccans leeway to claim that I speak on their behalf and therefore my points are wrong. The Wicca subreddit is a large community and often referred to by Wiccans, and it features this brief description of 'The Craft'. In any case, though Wicca nowadays is divided and will be described slightly differently by everybody you ask about it, the description provided by the subreddit is a pretty good example of common ground between all Wiccans. That description mostly matches up with how the average Wiccan would describe their faith. My personal description of what Wicca is would look slightly different. I would take care to note, for one, that Wicca is a form of Western Esotericism, more specifically Western Occultism. [1] I also find it important to note that whether or not Wicca is an earth religion, or nature religion, is of some debate, and not all consider it such. What is also subject of some variation across traditions and individuals is whether or not The Craft is pantheistic: some people accept the two gods of Wicca as figureheads for every pagan god in existence, others simply worship them as one single masculine god and one single feminine god. 'Witchcraft' is also a term that has no set definition - I can only assume that the mention of it on r/Wicca intends to broadly refer to most or all forms of magic accepted within Wicca.
Worth noting is that Wicca has spread very far beyond the confines of British Traditional Wicca (BTW), which are streams of Wicca that still adhere strongly to their roots. What is and is not Wicca is something that is of some debate among Wiccans themselves. That's why I think it is highly important to establish a few definitions that we'll be using for the rest of this post:
WICCA: I'll admit to using this term loosely. When I say 'Wicca' in this post I'll mainly be referring to the community of people who consider themselves Wiccans, i.e. the Wiccan religion. I may also use it to describe the broader influence of Wicca, however.
WICCA-DERIVED: I'll mostly use this term when I don't want to paint something as being inherently Wiccan, just related to or derived from it. Wiccan practices often escape the bounds of their respective culture and then grow into staples of various traditions that aren't meant to be Wiccan at all. When referring to such things I'll refer to them as derived from Wicca, or similar.
Wicca's Origins
To understand the history of Wicca we have to travel back a bit further than its founding: to the 16th and 17th century Witch Hunts in Europe. I have another post on this same blog detailing the relationship between Wicca and the Witch Trials, which I highly recommend reading to get a better understanding of the accusations of antisemitism I will be making shortly. At any rate: the witch trials happened across Europe and its colonies throughout the early modern period, after a time of much disaster. As I state in my other article:
Before the early Church turned its hateful eye to the concept of 'witches,' it was firmly on jews. Jews, alongside other heretics and oppressed minorities like the Rroma, were considered utterly worthy of damnation. They were seen as antagonistic to the Church, going against everything the Church stood for, and furthermore as misanthropic, greedy, unreliable enemies. They were the scapegoats for many disasters and indeed frequently accused of practicing magic or poisoncrafting to invoke these disasters on the 'Good Christian Folk'. Furthermore, and this may sound familiar to you, jews were accused of 'consorting with the devil' and murdering children in order to consume their blood to mock the Eucharist, often referred to as blood libel. It was often claimed that this (nonexistent!) practice was done on the Shabbat, alongside other practices twisting and mocking those done in Church on Sunday. The persecution of Jews in Medieval Europe was horrific and seemingly endless, having origins in antiquity and reaching a peak during the Crusades, and another when the Plague ran rampant. Jews were banished, forced to convert to Christianity or brutally murdered, not infrequently by burning or strangulation.
It is fairly easy to see, with some research and critical thought, that it wouldn't logically be real witches being murdered during the witch hunts. For starters, it's hard to believe that there were really people out there flying through the sky on brooms, to mythical locations, to dance naked under the full moon, have sex with the devil, and cannibalize children. There were of course those people who confessed to having done such things, but they were under threat of torture. Indeed, this archetype of the 'witch' has its origins in the Church's loathing for non-Christians and heretics. As Lily Climenhaga states [2]:
"Magic" acted as a description for individuals or groups who did not subscribe to the perceived societal norms of the medieval Christian community. Jews and heretics, the principle Others within Medieval Europe, existed outside of the societal norms and played an important role in the formation of the Christian perception of witches and witchcraft. Common elements existed between stories surrounding Jews, heretics, and witches. These beliefs created the preliminary conditions necessary for the mass persecution and intolerance toward witches and became inherent to the idea of the witch as the diabolical Other within Medieval Christian thought.
Furthermore, the stereotypical image of the witch is directly derived from hateful depictions of the marginalized. The conical, wide brimmed hat that we often see a cartoon witch depicted with actually comes from the conical hat known as a judenhut (jew hat), which was compulsory for many jews to wear in the Middle Ages. [3] Then there is of course the typical red or black hair, short and stocky figure, buckled shoes, large hooked nose, green skin, et cetera. All of this to say: It was not witches being hunted during the witchcraze. There is no such thing as a human person able to fly on broomsticks, cause storms at will, magically steal money from a distance, and curse someone to death with one glance. The medieval and early modern 'witch' is a mythical figure used to justify the persecution and eradication of the already marginalized. This idea is fairly commonly accepted now, as it should be, but it wasn't always.
In 1828, German lawyer and professor Karl Ernst Jarcke proposed the witch-cult hypothesis: a now discredited theory that the people persecuted and murdered during the witch trials were not marginalized innocents, but rather members of a pan-European pagan religion. He posited that this pagan witch-cult was older than Christianity, but had been driven underground by it, and only came to light when the accused of the witch trials confessed to witchcraft. This hypothesis was affirmed and adapted by other scholars throughout the 19th century but remained of moderate popularity at best, until 20th century Egyptologist Margaret Murray became one of its most avid proponents, incorporating it into many of her works. Most notably, she featured it in 1921's The Witch-Cult in Western Europe and 1933's The God of the Witches. [1] Murray's writing is the origin of many Wiccan motifs, such as the thirteen member coven, the Horned God (based on the works of James Frazer) and the cross-quarterly gathering. Furthermore, as a radical skeptic and rationalist, Murray wished to strip the witch-cult hypothesis of all supernatural notions. [4] She claimed that the secret society of witches were not Satanists but nature-worshippers, and that the gatherings were actually orgies, where a priest dressed in ritual skins and horns fornicated with all the gathered women. She also proposed that these rituals were actually benevolent fertility rituals for the good of the witches' communities, and there was little to no malevolent magic involved. She was also the one to introduce the idea that the people who confessed to curses and other malevolent magic were actually witches who had forgotten their own original intent, or had been misinterpreted by the court. [5] Murray herself [5]:
For centuries both before and after the Christian era, the witch was both honoured and loved. Whether man or woman, the witch was consulted by all, for relief in sickness, for counsel in trouble, or for foreknowledge of forthcoming events. They were at home in the courts of Kings [...] their mystical powers gave them the authority for discovering culprits, who then received the appropriate punishment.
These writings were a turning point for the associations of the word 'witch'. Prior to these hypotheses, 'witch' was a bad word, an insult even, reserved only for people - especially women - believed to have evil intentions and use spiritual methods not sanctioned by the Church for their own benefit. The use of the word 'witch' nowadays, as a self-imposed title for anybody using any magical means, can be traced back to this pivotal moment in time. While Murray did great PR for the nonexistent witch archetype, erasing the idea that their practices were Satanic and supernatural, she unfortunately did much harm to marginalized peoples by propagating the idea that it was not them being persecuted, but some mythical clan. Therein lies my first problem: Wicca minimizes the impact of what it calls the 'Burning Times' on marginalized peoples and instead adopts all this suffering for itself, painting the 'witch' as a marginalized, oppressed, and beloathed historical figure, when it's the very people who would've been doing the burning who founded, shaped, and maintain Wicca. In doing so, it also adopts various words, like Sabbat(h), which is a word unique to Judaism and has been weaponized against Judaism since the Middle Ages. Despite much criticism, even from Murray's contemporaries, she was invited to write a highly influential piece for the Encyclopaedia Brittanica in 1929. She used the opportunity to promote her hypothesis as fact, and it quickly grew so influential that according to Jacqueline Simpson, the ideas got to be "so entrenched in popular culture that they will probably never be uprooted." [4] But we haven't even gotten into when Wicca was actually founded, so let's get to that.
One of, if not the only contemporary fan of Margaret Murray's hypothesis, was Folklore Society fellow Gerald Gardner. He was an interesting and well-travelled man, having come from a wealthy family, growing up with nursemaids and a family firm. As a result of his illnesses (namely asthma) and constant travels abroad during childhood, he never received a formal education, nor did he attend school. Instead, through his travels and family acquaintances, he developed quite the interest in spirituality. At first he developed an interest in the Buddhist beliefs of the Singhalese natives on his tea plantation, later in British and Celtic folklore from his relatives the Surgenesons. In his biography, it is revealed that it is from these relatives that he learns that his grandfather, Joseph, was rumored to be a practicing witch. [6] Different accounts of Gardner's life had it that it was also rumored within his family that a Scottish ancestor of his had been burned as a witch in 1610. [7] A few years after this time with the Surgenesons, Gardner was initiated as an Apprentice Freemason in Ceylon. He quickly rose in the ranks, but eventually lost interest in the Masonic activities and resigned in 1911, presumably because he wanted to leave Ceylon. [6] After this he moved around Asia a fair bit more, taking a great interest in Indigenous beliefs there, and even participating in some of their tattoo and ritual traditions. During this time of travel, Gardner also decided to take the Shahada, the Muslim confession of faith and, technically, final step in the process of becoming Muslim; but Gardner never became a practicing Muslim, mostly using the Shahada as a means to gain trust from the locals in Malaya. [7] In 1927, Gardner's father's health deteriorated, and he went back to Britain to visit him. During this time in Britain he researched various spiritual and religious movements, namely Spiritualism and Mediumship, and he reported many spiritual encounters with whom he interpreted as deceased family members. [6] [7] He attended many Spiritualist churches and seances, and had a number of spiritual experiences that, according to his biographer, changed his interest from a purely amateur anthropological one to one of genuine personal belief. [6] He became re-involved with Freemasonry, and started taking a serious interest in magic. When he, after his retirement, officially moved back to Britain, he started pursuing magic there with some seriousness. He became involved in such things as nudism, and, in September 1937, he requested a Doctorate of Philosophy (Ph. D) from the Meta Collegiate Extension of the National Electronic Institute, an organization based in Nevada. This organization was widely known for providing illegitimate degrees and diplomas through mail order, for a fee. After this he began to introduce and style himself as 'Dr. Gardner' despite having no academically recognized qualifications. [7]
He started allowing spirituality to shape his life, such as when he bought land on his beloved Cyprus because he came to believe that he had actually lived on the island before, in a past life. He wrote a book referencing this as well, influenced by his dreams: his first novel, A Goddess Arrives, followed a British man in the 1930s who had, in a past life, been a bronze age Cypriot. [7] When World War II became an imminent threat, Gardner and his wife moved to Highcliffe, just south of the New Forest, to escape potential bombings. [7] He becomes involved with the Rosicrucian Order Crotona Fellowship, a magico-religious tradition in Western Esotericism. The Fellowship had been founded in 1920 by George Alexander Sullivan, based upon a blend of Rosicrucianism, Theosophy, Freemasonry and his own personal innovations. [7] It requires mentioning that Western Esotericism and all of its more modern traditions (Rosicrucianism, Theosophy, Anthroposophy, Freemasonry, Occultism, et cetera) are inseparable from white supremacy. This is something fairly well-recorded, if shrouded, and so complex I am hesitant to delve into it in great amounts of detail. It is, however, pivotal for the reader to understand that many of Western Esotericism's greatest thinkers from the Middle Ages onward were antisemites, racists, misogynists, colonialists, and even nazis. Western Esotericism also had a gigantic impact on 20th century race studies, and the idea that there was such a thing as a superior or aryan race. Defenders and fans of Western Esotericism are quick to point out that there are also many non-white thinkers in Western Esotericism that were pivotal to its formation, and I would never deny that. I am, however, denying that what Western Esotericism has turned into is productive. Having been founded upon the backs of indigenous and marginalized peoples, by appropriating their practices and denying their suffering, such as the appropriation of Kabbalah and the denial of the persecution of jews, shaped by men who were famously evil, such as Aleister Crowley, and used as pseudoscientific justification for some of mankind's greatest atrocities, I cannot stand with Western Esotericism. Ever. It is true that Western Esotericism has been the victim of white supremacy as well: Freemasons being persecuted and incarcerated as part of the 'jewish conspiracy' in Nazi Germany for example, but at the same time the connections between Esotericism and the nazi, half-Nordic, half-Hindu German Faith Movement cannot be denied. Folkish and Odinist 'traditions' find their roots in nazi occultism as well, as they sprang from the desire for a Pan-Germanic ethnic identity. These faiths persist to this day, attracting many different types of people and turning them into white supremacists or even neo-nazis.
Back to Gardner. During his time with the Rosicrucian Order he had also joined the Folklore society, where he published some works and became member of the governing council, where he was a distrusted man. He had also joined the Historical Association. [7] He ran into some quarrels and troubles with the Rosicrucian Order and found himself increasingly cynical of their practices, especially when Sullivan claimed that World War II would not come the very day before Britain declared war on Germany. [6] There was, however, a select group of people within the Order with whom he got along quite well. [7] Biographer Philip Heselton theorized upon who this group could be and claims they may have been Edith Woodford-Grimes, Susie Mason, her brother Ernie Mason, and their sister Rosetta Fudge, all of whom had originally come from Southampton before joining the Order in Highcliffe. Per Gardner himself: "unlike many of the others [in the Order], [they] had to earn their livings, were cheerful and optimistic and had a real interest in the occult". He was "really very fond of them", claiming he "would have gone through hell and high water even then for any of them." [6] It was these very people who took him to the house of a woman Gardner calls 'Old Dorothy' Clutterbuck, a wealthy local to the New Forest area. They, according to him, made him strip naked and take part in an initiation ritual, wherein he caught the words 'Wicca' and 'Wicce', which he recognized as the Old English words for witch. Though research by the likes of Hutton and Heselton shows that the New Forest Coven, as Gardner calls them, were likely only formed in the 1930s, Gardner took this experience as proof of the witch-cult hypotheses which he had learned about from Margaret Murray's writings. [7] Gardner spent a significant amount of time with them but only ever described one of their rituals in detail, one intended to ward off the Germans from coming to Britain. It is attested in both Bracelin's and Heselton's biographies. Gardner went on, after these events, to also become involved with druidry and be ordained as priest in the Ancient British Church, and he conducted some rituals according to the Lesser Key of Solomon with his nudist and occultist friends. [7] In 1947 Gardner was introduced to Aleister Crowley, a man of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn and the founding father of Thelema, a Western Occultist new religious movement. Crowley is one of those ubiquitous, evil figureheads in Western Esotericism that people prefer not to give too many words to. His history with occultism, racism, antisemitism, misogyny, and sexual abuse is too vast to summarize in one paragraph. Still, Thelema persists to this day, as do Crowley apologists. Crowley elevated Gardner to the IV° of Ordo Templi Orientis (O.T.O.) and issued a charter decreeing that Gardner could admit people into its Minerval degree. The charter was written in Gardner's handwriting and only signed by Crowley. [6] [7] [8] When Crowley passed away, Gardner appointed himself the leader of the O.T.O.. He would, however, lose interest in leading the O.T.O. within a few years. [7] During this time Gardner also travelled through America, especially in hopes of learning about Voodoo and Hoodoo. [7]
Gardner wished to spread his newly founded Wiccan religion, and wrote another work of fiction in order to do so. He described various Wiccan rituals in this book as 'High Magic' and based it heavily on the Solomonic Keys. He was also working on a scrapbook which he did not intend to publish, which he called 'Ye Bok of Ye Art Magical'. Therein he wrote down various Wiccan rituals and ceremonies, and this book would later form as the prototype for the Wiccan Book of Shadows, a term he himself coined. He claimed the book to be of ancient origins to his followers. During this time he also gained his first initiates, and the first covens were formed. [7] During this initial time of true organized religion, Gardner ran into several problems. People important to him left his faith due to his actions with the press, and he had quarrels with some members who recognized that many of his rituals and such had been adapted straight from Thelema. [4] In 1954, Gardner wrote arguably the most influential work on Wicca: Witchcraft Today. It was his first non-fiction work, and contained a preface by Margaret Murray, the woman who had popularized the witch-cult hypothesis on which Wicca was built. In this book, Gardner praised Murray's theories, and added some of his own: namely that the European belief in faeries was actually because of a hidden pygmy race living alongside mankind, and that the Knights Templar were actually initiates into The Craft. [7] After this, Gardner started cultivating larger scale attention for Wicca. He invited the press to write about his religion, and most of the tabloid articles produced painted him and his cult in a negative light. They were made out to be devil worshippers, cultists, et cetera. Nevertheless, Gardner persisted, and encouraged the press to write more. He thought the publicity, even if negative, would help prevent the 'Old Religion', as he called it, from dying out. [7] [8]
In 1960, Gardner's official biography, Gerald Gardner: Witch, was published. It was penned in its entirety by Gardner's friend Idries Shah, a Sufi mystic, but Shah used the name of one of Gardner's High Priests, Jack L. Bracelin, because he was wary of being associated with witchcraft. In 1963, Gardner visited Lebanon. On his way home, he had a heart attack on ship, en route to Tunisia. He was buried there, the funeral only attended by the ship's captain. [9] Many authors have speculated on Gardner's life since his passing. Though he was devoted to his only wife, Donna, it was claimed that Gardner spent many evenings 'cuddling up' to a young High Priestess named Dayonis. Biographer Philip Heselton claims that Gardner had a longterm affair with Edith Woodford-Grimes, nicknamed Dafo by Gardner. This theory was affirmed by Adrian Bott. [10] Gardner was one of, or possibly the first person to use what Wiccans know as a 'Craft name', a magical name used for magico-religious purposes in Wicca. Gardner was known as Scire by his followers. Reportedly, Wicca was not known as Wicca at the time of its initial development. Gardner often referred to his adherents as 'the Wica', but the religion was only ever referred to as 'Witchcraft', capital W.
In Wicca's founding lies my second problem with it. Wicca was founded by a white man, based on a combination of Western Esoteric notions and experiences, Spiritualism, Mediumship, appropriation of indigenous European, Asian and even American spirituality. It was built on a hypothesis that denies the suffering of marginalized peoples and claims it for nonmarginalized, white, privileged Europeans instead. It poses itself as something with roots in academics, while the founder had never enjoyed any form of education and possessed a fake PhD. It was influenced heavily by cults, occultists who are generally acknowledged to be terrible people, and pseudoscience. It claims to be ancient, but was founded in the 1900s. And, importantly, it contributes heavily to white supremacy through the idea of a pan-European cultural identity and pan-European pagan religion.
Wicca Today: Innocuous Propagation of White Supremacy
Wicca has grown exponentially since its founding, now being by far the largest pagan religion actively being practiced in the modern era. It has both organized covens and solitary adherents across the world, and most people who have access to the internet will have heard of Wicca once or twice. Wicca is, truly and undeniably, inescapable in pagan and magical spaces. It's easy, and common, for adherents to claim that Wicca is not what it once was. 'Yeah, the origins are bad, but that doesn't make the whole Craft bad,' is a favored argument against the idea that Wicca's origins make it inherently irredeemable. I disagree strongly with this, and always will; something that was built with bricks made of appropriation and lies can't be separated from those evils. If you took the appropriation out of Wicca, it would cease to be Wicca. Deconstructing Wicca would leave you with a blend of Freemasonry, Thelema, folk magic, Christianity, various Indigenous beliefs, Kabbalah, Occultism, and some misrepresented paganism. If you take the appropriation and harm out of Wicca, it simply ceases to exist. Nevertheless, many people think Wicca can be separated from its evil origins. That's why in this section of the article, I'd like to delve into why that is not true, and how Wicca continues to do harm in this day and age.
For starters, of course, Wicca has not ceased to be appropriative simply because time has passed. Rather, the appropriation gets increasingly less attention, until it becomes so integral to the Craft that people don't even notice or stop to think that it may have come from somewhere that never wanted it to be taken in the first place. A prime example, which I've already touched on very briefly, is the use of the word 'sabbat', in reference to 'Wiccan' holidays. As I wrote in my other post about this topic:
The very root of this word is the Hebrew ש־ב־ת (sh-b-t). It is the root word for many words pertaining to rest and not working (or more broadly: 'cessation'). This word evolved into שַׁבָּת (shabát), which translates to Saturday or weekly rest-day, normally. This word, also often spelled Shabbos from Ashkenazi Hebrew, travelled through various antique languages (Ancient Greek -> Latin -> Old French) directly to Middle English, where it became 'Sabat', and later Sabbath. While this word, in its travel through Europe, has influenced some words, you'll notice that it has also stayed one unique word, with a unique meaning: the Jewish Rest Day. The Sabbath, Shabbos, Sabbat, Shabat, et cetera, will always and has for most of its history been the word uniquely reserved for Saturday in Judaism. To those not very well read on Judaism, it may be helpful to know that Judaism is what is considered a closed practice. It is only permissible to practice Jewish religious tradition, and to a large extent, Jewish culture, if you are a Jewish convert. By extension, that should clue you in on the nature of the word and holiday of Shabbat.
This word, which should have stayed what it was meant to be, a word for the Jewish rest day, first became associated with the archetypal witch during the late Medieval period, when jews, and later witches, were accused of going to Sabbaths or Synagogues to perform evil rituals. Though there were attempts by the likes of Margaret Murray to claim that the word 'sabbat(h)' as used by 'witches' was not in any way related to Judaism, those claims have been strongly disputed. Murray claimed in her 1921 book The Witch-Cult in Western Europe that 'sabbat' actually came from Old French s'esbattre, meaning to frolic and amuse oneself. This theory has no proof, nor is it readily academically received or accepted. The word in conjunction with witchcraft is deeply hurtful to Judaism and jewish people across the globe, as it reminds them of the persecution they faced when their faith and culture was considered evil and worth being killed over. I highly recommend reading Why I Don't Call Them Sabbats, Why You Should Stop, and Other Thoughts on Problematic Aspects of Western Witchcraft by Nile Sorena for more thoughts on this topic, as well as Jews and the Witchcraze by Jewitches.
The Wheel of the Year, the cycle of yearly Wiccan holidays (the very ones referred to as 'sabbats', which I refuse to do and will not start doing), is just as appropriative as the use of the word sabbat, but, hilariously, it is also quite magically and religiously dysfunctional. The Wheel of the Year is a Wiccan invention, initially based on the works of James Frazer, Robert Graves and Margaret Murray, the latter of whom was a big proponent of the theory that 'witches' gathered on cross-quarterly days, something that is still a big motif in Wicca. These theories were adopted by neopaganism by Gardner's Bricket Wood Coven and the Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids, a neo-Druidic group founded by Ross Nichols. Supposedly, these people harmonized the eight primarily holidays described by the former academics to create an easy-to-use calendar for neopagans in Britain. [11] In the 1970s, prolific Wiccan Aidan Kelly gave names to some of the previously unnamed Wiccan equinoxes (Mabon and Ostara) and the Wiccan summer solstice (Litha). [12] This leaves us with the contemporary wheel of the year, which looks like this:
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There are many reasons I find the Wheel of the Year appropriative and dysfunctional. For starters, Wiccan lore claims that the spokes-on-a-wheel structure is borrowed from Celtic mythology, but there is no evidence that Celtic myth ever depicted the passing of time as a wheel. Nevertheless, there is no inherent problem with viewing the passing of time as a wheel; cycles are very important in paganism across Europe. More cumbersome than the supposedly ancient wheel structure, is the combination of pagan holidays from various only passively related cultures. Beltane (Bealtaine), Lughnasadh, Samhain, and Imbolc are Celtic; specifically Gaelic. They all work well in conjunction, and were historically celebrated by the same people(s) throughout their years. Yule is Germanic, being celebrated by the Norse, continental Germanic, and Anglo-Saxon peoples. It was not in any way historically related to the four primary Celtic festivals, and doesn't work in conjunction with them very well, as many things that made Yule significant to the Germanic peoples, were celebrated during Samhain by the Gaels. Mabon is a contrived festival, filling an autumnal gap. The Germanic peoples did not have a specialized holiday for the autumn equinox, nor did the Celts, so Wiccans filled this gap with a 'lesser Sabbat' in the 1960s, named 'Mabon' by Aidan Kelly in the 1970s. [12] It was named for Mabon ap Modron, a figure in Brythonic mythology. As Wicca is wont to do, it paints itself and its traditions as incredibly ancient and cultural, and Mabon is no exception to this rule. Wiccans generally paint Mabon as a 'Celtic harvest festival' filled with rich traditions of sacrifice and preparation for winter, but factually, nothing is less true. Mabon (ap Modron) as a deity has nothing whatsoever to do with the autumn equinox, and there is no solid record of consistent autumn equinox festivities as celebrated by the Celts (nor by the Germanic peoples, for that matter). Noteworthy also is that on top of this usage of the name of Mabon for an unrelated festival often being deemed appropriation by Welsh and other Gaelic people, additional offense is often taken to the likening of the 'Mabon' celebrations to Thanksgiving, as many leftist people involved in Celtic culture have no respect for, nor wish to be associated with, colonialism. Ostara is an almost equally contrived festival, based on a single attestation by a Christian in England, Bede, who claimed in his work The Reckoning of Time that there was an Anglo-Saxon goddess named Ēostre, to whom a spring feasts were dedicated during the month of Ēosturmōnaþ (modern April). Litha, too, finds its origins in Bede's The Reckoning of Time. Per Aidan Kelly himself:
Summer was also rather easy. The Saxon calendar described by Bede was lunisolar. It usually had twelve months, but in the third, fifth, and last month of an 8-year cycle, a 13th month was added to keep it (more or less) in sync with the solar years. The last and first months in the calendar were named Foreyule and Afteryule, respectively, and obviously framed the holiday of Yule. The sixth and seventh month were named Forelitha and Afterlitha; furthermore, when the thirteenth month was added, it went in between them, and the year was then called a Threelitha. Obviously, by analogy with Yule, the summer solstice must have been called Litha. (I later discovered that Tolkien had figured this out also.)
Now, there is nothing wrong with being inspired by various open, European cultures and using that inspiration to create something new. Traditions don't have to be centuries old to be valid. What makes this thing that Wicca does appropriation, is that it refuses to acknowledge its traditions as modern, and its inspirations as cultural. This started way back in its origins, when Murray popularized the witch-cult hypothesis and Gardner espoused it, and it survives into the modern day with Wiccans either refusing to admit or pointedly ignoring the fact that their traditions are modern and were established in the modern period.
Wicca also breeds tolerance for cultural (mis)appropriation. When one is not taught to feel any animosity toward appropriation like the use of the word 'sabbat(h)' outside of its original context, even when the usage of the word is of active detriment to the people to whom the word originally belonged, one will feel confident doing other, similar appropriation elsewhere as well. This is why you'll often notice that it is Wiccans, and people who practice Wiccan-derived practices, who end up appropriating such things as white sage, dreamcatchers, sound bowls, reiki, et cetera. Some of those things should never be used by people who are not native to the culture those things come from, such as white sage, which is not only strictly closed but also a severely endangered plant; others are open to foreigners, but should be treated with respect and acknowledged as belonging to a certain culture. Wiccans who readily appropriate such things are often unable or unwilling to provide substantial information on where those practices or items come from and why they should be within their rights to have them, except through arguments which minimize the cultural value of something. A great example of this is this famed argument: "white sage can't be closed, it's a plant. Plants belong to the earth, and the earth belongs to everyone. I should be allowed to use white sage." Ignoring the fact that white sage is endangered and white sage in stores is generally poached, which entirely negates the 'respecting the earth' aspect of that argument, this argument also diminishes the cultural importance of white sage to Native Americans.
A different reason that appropriation runs rampant in Wiccan communities is, actually, white supremacy. The goal of white supremacy is to homogenize the white race into a single white cultural and ethnic identity, so that all white people may band together and rule over the inferior races, as it were. People think that white supremacy has to be quite drastic, only recognizing it in such things as fascism and neo-nazism, but in actuality, white supremacy is propagated in many far more innocuous ways. The wish to eradicate minority languages, various conspiracy theories about aliens, many commonly accepted forms of pseudoscience, and many forms of cultural appropriation that are popular to this day are huge cultivators of white supremacy. Something does not need to explicitly state, or even have the intent or desire to create a homogenous white ethnic identity to further white supremacy. This topic is so vast and complex it is impossible to summarize in any effective way in this post, which is why I encourage all magical practitioners and pagans to see witchcraft as highly intersectional an do their research about white supremacy and other harmful ideologies that survive in western spirituality to this day. Folkism and Odinism are great examples of not explicitly, but undeniably white supremacist spiritual organizations that further white supremacy by attempting to create a universal Germanic (and then European) cultural and ethnic identity. Wicca also engages a lot with the idea of various pan-European identities. This is particularly visible in two ways: one, the idea that there is a pan-European witch-cult that has survived from prehistory into the modern age. Magic, throughout Europe, as well as paganism throughout Europe, is highly variable and culturally dependent. Though it follows many of the same themes, as it does mostly have its roots in Proto-Indo-European common origins, it is distinctly different. If Europe had one, shared, culture, our world would look very different. Indeed, Europe is just as culturally diverse as any other place, even if nowadays (thanks to white supremacy) that is harder to see. There is not and never has been one singular secret society of witches in Europe. Instead, folk magic, which is culturally and linguistically dependent, and extremely variable across Europe, has survived under the radar of the church into the modern era, and it is one of Europe's most beautiful assets when it comes to illustrating our cultural richness. The second way that Wicca propagates pan-European identities is through their dual divinity system. Wicca's divinities, the Great Horned God and the Triple Goddess, who both are also, in turn, appropriated from Gaulish and Celtic lore respectively, are often said to be a sort of figurehead for all pagan divinities and serve as a sort of shorthand way to worship them all, in a soft pantheist way. The Horned God or Lord, the divine masculine, represents all male pagan gods, and his counterpart represents all female pagan gods as the Divine Feminine. Now, pantheism is not inherently problematic, but when one tries to reduce every pagan divinity in existence, gods which all have wildly different cultural and historic backgrounds, to two deities, without even being so courteous as to make those deities liminal and featureless, I fear that does turn into a problem. No, it is not possible to worship every single pagan god in existence by paying respects to just two deities who are mostly modern inventions. Every deity and every religion, every culture, has distinct needs, requirements, and ways of paying respect, and attempting to reduce all of that to the idea that two gods can serve as a prism and replacement for all the gods which have ever existed is a major flaw to this religion as well as a serious indicator of a strong tie to white supremacy.
But there is another problem to the dual divinity system of Wicca, which is gender essentialism. On top of cultural variability being completely forsaken by this prism-pantheistic idea, it also completely fails to acknowledge that there are many deities across Europe and across the globe which do not conform to the gender binary. The abrahamic God Himself is a great example, but so is Loki, a deity who is oddly well-beloved by Wiccans despite the religion's bioessentialist nature. So are Hermaphroditus from Hellenic myth, various South American divinities, even deities in Tagalog lore. As a matter of fact, gender-neutral depictions of divinity have been found on Celtic gold. [13] Divinity itself, as a concept, has no gender. Rejecting the gender binary has also been crucial to magic and witchcraft across Europe, see for example crossdressing being a prerequisite to successful Seidhr practices, and the associations of men practicing seidhr with unmanliness and even homosexuality. [14] Rejecting the gender binary was a powerful act when it came to magical skill, as it furthered ones journey into the liminal and undefined, the strange and 'other', which is where all manner of magical creatures resided. In fact, the residents of the Otherworld, the Faeries themselves, are not too keen on gender binary. The Divine Male archetype of aggressor, protector, avenger and ruler is one that, in Faery Courts, is generally represented by the Queen, not the King. If there even is a King. I find this ironic, considering Wicca's desire to be closely associated with Celtic mythology and antiquity. The concept of Divine Femininity and Divine Masculinity is also directly contradictory to feminism. To attempt to reduce a woman to nothing but the soft, sensual, sagely, nurturing caretaker is undeniably misogynistic. The idea of a Divine Masculine, too, is antifeminist, though only in the sense that it is entirely patriarchal. Men are leaders, providers, and warriors, according to the gender essentialist archetypes that the Divine Feminine and Masculine reference. This is harmful to men, as well, because it places them in the position of needing to be manly and invulnerable at all times, much to the complaint of both men and women in the modern age. It is simply unproductive and anti-feminist, in a way that is hard to ignore. The bioessentialism of Wicca goes beyond just the Divine Masculine and Divine Feminine archetypes of their deities, however. There is a strong emphasis within Wicca on depictions of genitalia, and many Wiccan authors and figureheads draw comparisons between really any long object and a phallus, believing that everything in magic has to eventually circle back to fertility. Wands are phallic, athames are phallic. The average Wiccan supply store will have penis shaped candles, penis carvings of various crystals. Wicca propagates bioessentialism the likes of which are not seen in any other form of paganism, not even historic paganism. This attitude towards the nonconforming and emphasis on the gender and sex binary make many people feel excluded from Wicca. Trans people, nonbinary people, really any queer or gay person, of any sort, can experience Wicca as a hostile environment. Wiccans may argue that it isn't transphobic by saying that they are including both sexes and never intentionally exclude trans, gay and nonconforming individuals, but what they fail to realize is that the binary, any binary, is outdated. There are more than two gender identities, and there are more than two sexes. Intersex people can never feel included when the religion so heavily affirms that there is, or should be, only penis and vulva.
Furthermore, Gardner himself was a flagrant homophobe, and well-known for it. Lois Bourne, a High Priestess of the Bricket Wood Coven, Gardner's own coven, wrote this about him: [15]
Gerald was homophobic. He had a deep hatred and detestation of homosexuality, which he regarded as a disgusting perversion and a flagrant transgression of natural law ... "There are no homosexual witches, and it is not possible to be a homosexual and a witch" Gerald almost shouted. No one argued with him.
Wicca Tomorrow: Cultural Erasure and Loss
Admittedly, none of what I've said so far has truly captured my biggest, and primary, reason for hating Wicca as much as I do. Other than the fact that I myself am indigenous, and have felt the effects of white supremacy, cultural erasure, and homogenization of white peoples all my life, other than the fact that I am queer and in a gay relationship, other than the fact that I have family who were victims of the holocaust, other than the fact that I am, at my core, an intersectional, radical leftist - the thing I hate the most about Wicca is its potential. Not potential for greatness, mind. I hate Wicca's potential for destruction. I already get to witness it in action every day, and it strikes fear into my heart like nothing else.
I, personally, have always believed that the first antidote to white supremacy, in an ironic but poetic spin, is love for one's own culture. White supremacy, in an attempt to make the white man feel at home in his whiteness and like he has one thing (superiority) in common with all other white men, strips him from his local culture. He is forced to view himself as part of something great, something that spans all of Europe, or all of Germania, or what have you, and he is made to turn a blind eye to what he already has. Local culture. His language, more specifically even, his dialect. His mother's lilt, and his father's flowery cadence. His neighbors. Their celebrations, their cooking traditions. His city. Its architecture, its communal sites, its judicial system. His land. Its medicines, its foods, its magics. The animals upon it. His companions, his livestock, rarely even his foes. Everything a person truly needs is within walking distance when in nature. Every ecosystem is equipped with everything we could possibly need, from a varied diet, to our medicines, to our shelters, to our hygiene products, all the way to the very things that keep us in check. That is not coincidence: we were grown, woven fiber by fiber by that land, that soil, over thousands, millions, billions of years. We do not need the whole world, there is no reason to try to conquer it. But we want to colonize, and so we must make larger and larger teams, clans, armies, races. The man from Truthan must become Cornish, then Celtic, then English, then British, then European, then white, then better. He would have been better off, happier, had he stayed Cornish.
In the worldwide community of people who take an amateur and personal interest in magic and paganism, Wicca is white supremacy's most effective tool in stripping people of their local culture. Wicca did not become this by design; shoddy and evil though its origins may be, I do not think Wicca was created with the intention of homogenizing and radicalizing the white race. However, in the 1950s, when all cultural magic in Europe were flying low under the radar of the church, hiding in families, in villages, in cookbooks and journals, in visits to the local keening woman to cure the evil eye the neighbor gave your cow, Wicca was the first community, first organized religion, to wave a flag and loudly and proudly proclaim to be pagan, to be witches. To do magic. It was the first to associate itself with those labels and voluntarily take them on, to be known by them. Through this singular association with those terms, it became the first thing people thought of when they thought about magic. Because the magic of the common people, the folk magic, is never termed magic by the ones doing it. "This rowan stick in my windowsill against lightning? Magic? You mean that stuff those witches in London do?" Nowadays, as the first form of magic and paganism to go mainstream in Europe since Christianity's taking over, Wicca is ubiquitous when the amateur goes to research magic and paganism. When the internet came along, this became a bigger problem than it may already have been before the digital age. Now, when people are introduced to the concept of modern magic and paganism, when they go to research it, they will only find Wicca. Not for utter lack of sources on (other) cultural magic, on the contrary: there are plenty, but one needs to use specific key words to find them. More scientific, more academic, more secular. When one wants to research cultural and specific magic, one must assume the author does not believe himself, nor does he believe you do. Wicca, however, has resources that do assume the researcher is interested in practicing, which is yet another reason that people go to Wicca rather than something else. They won't find the folk magic, and if they do, it won't be as comprehensive, accessible, entertaining, and personable as Wicca. Wicca will always win, because it was never challenged in the first place. This has led to a huge disparity in the amount of people who know about and/or practice Wicca, and the amount of people who know about and/or practice folk magic and/or cultural paganism. And as Wicca gains more and more popularity, both because it was always set up for success by chance, and because it subtly purveys white supremacy in a way that most people do not even recognize, it will continue to smother cultural, traditional, and folk magic.
Wicca's Reach: Contemporary Magic
Many people who would not consider themselves, or do not identify as Wiccan, still get called that by me in an intentionally derivative way. Not usually to their faces, but when I am discussing reasons why I do not like Wicca, I find it hard to draw a substantial, or even relevant, line between people who identify as Wiccans, and people who do not identify as such but still, functionally, are. Due to Wicca's chokehold on the first several pages of Google when you look up most things pertaining to magic, most practitioners of magic are essentially Wiccan without the label. They do not associate with Wicca intentionally, but they have no idea how to access, or any awareness of the existence of folk magic resources, and so end up practicing the magic Wicca teaches. In witching communities, well-known Wiccan authors are considered staples to read, such as Scott Cunningham. Authors that do not call themselves Wiccan (anymore) but do promote the magic are just as popular, such as Arin Murphy-Hiscock and Nathan M. Hall. These authors all have the same fatal flaw, which makes them Wiccans and automatically unreliable in my eyes: they promote the very idea which Wicca all but created, that there is one, single, universal way to do magic. That you, a Hawai'i Native living on the Islands, will do the best magic you've ever done with this set of European herbs that do not grow on your own soil. With this set of half-baked, appropriative Laws and methods, contrived out of a mishmash of appropriated indigenous practices and European traditions; like the Threefold Law, which is nothing but a cheap and terrible misinterpretation of the Dharmic concept of Karma. Except Wicca doesn't call them that. It calls the herbs staples, essentials. It calls the half-baked rules Ardanes and Magical Theory. Nothing is more ironic to me than a supposed nature religion telling people to forsake the nature around them in favor of the 'universal subsitute' Rosemary (salvia rosmarinus), a plant they've never even seen in real life save for in the jar in their spice cabinet.
Nowadays, thanks to the omnipresence of Wicca, there is a whole new magical tradition, yet unnamed. It consists of all those secular practitioners of magic who do all of their research via resources actually pandering to practitioners, all those people who claim 'we are the daughters of the witches you couldn't burn', all those people who have never heard of or hardly ever think about magic that isn't 'witchcraft'. I like to refer to it as 'contemporary magic', or sometimes 'modern magic', in a context where the label contemporary could be cause for confusion. This 'modern magic' is that more-or-less universal, monotone, Wiccan derived, secular magic that most people would term 'witchcraft'. The magic you see on TikTok. The spell jar magic. The cord-cutting magic. The lemon hex magic. The 'spiritual but not religious' magic. The sound bowl and smoke cleanse magic. The light and love magic. The 'white' magic. Magick. This magic is not culture-less, not at all. It is its own culture, as it were, and not only that, most of the spells, rituals and rules it has have their origins in European culture. But this magic is, in a way, anti-culture. Colonial. It smothers and endangers local magic, more relevant magic, and spreads like wildfire because it is so easy to never have to research beyond Wicca. What makes this modern magic inherently harmful is that it, too, is appropriative. The resources that provide you with this magic, which like the religion that sprouted it, is a huge, sometimes dysfunctional and clashing mosaic of culture, do not actually inform you of the origins of any of the practices that they teach you. They teach you what to do, how to do it, what materials to use, et cetera, but they don't teach you where these rituals came from, why these plants had those associations, what culture sprang this curse. And contrary to popular belief, those things are crucial to magic. The cultures at hand deserve to be honored for what they've given, and every culture has the right to be preserved. Culture is important elsewhere, but it is fundamental to magic. Magic cannot exist without culture. Gods are nothing but a lens to view the world through, magic is nothing but a response to struggle in a language that every human shares: the language of wonder and learning. Magic, at its core, is nothing but humanity's ability to feel amazed, and learn from the elegant language the earth speaks to us. And it is propagated by our ability to speak, to share, to teach to one another. Mother to daughter, brother to sister, chieftain to peasant, wife to warrior. Carry this, eat that. Don't do this, don't go there. Wicca does not acknowledge this importance of culture, nor does it make any efforts to teach the practitioners of it and its derivatives what cultures it was built on and off of. That is the crux and definition of cultural appropriation.
Wicca will continue to spread. I think one of my toxic traits is that I resigned myself to this idea a long time ago, much like how many people resign themselves to the idea of white supremacy or climate change. I can't help but see Wicca and the damage it does as irreversible. Wicca occupies the first pages of any google search about magic, the first thought anyone has when you self-identify as a pagan or practitioner of magic. 'Witch' as a word is completely different than it once was, as is the word sabbat. It feels inescapable, and this weighs heavily on me as somebody whose culture, too, is growing lost in part due to the priority of Wicca over cultural magic. I started writing this post in hopes of getting out all my grievances with this tradition. Ten thousand words and a great many sources later, the wound Wicca carved into me when I realized people would choose it over the valuable cultural knowledge I have and want to preserve no longer throbs, it just aches emptily. If this post manages to change one person's mind on Wicca, it has done its job, and I can die happily. If this post motivates one person to look beyond Wicca and glance at the rich and wild world of cultural magic, especially their own culture, I'll spend eternity in the afterlife gloating.
If there was one thing I wanted the reader to take away from this post, it is not that they should hate Wicca and actively fight to eradicate it. It is that culture is beautiful. All cultures are beautiful. There is no such thing as 'white culture' and we should strive to dismantle that, but the way to do that is to acknowledge the real culture. British culture, English culture, Cornish culture. Low Saxon culture. Silesian culture. Yakutian culture. Tibetan culture. Qazaq culture. Yup'ik culture. Irish culture. Amazigh culture. Cree culture. Sámi culture. Maori culture. Aymaran culture. Muscogee culture. Zulu culture. Find what is rightfully yours, because no matter who or where you are, there is culture in your ancestry, and there is culture in your neighborhood. You are entitled to it like you are entitled to air and water. Learn about the plants that are native to your area. Learn about the medicines your peoples used when conventional medicine was not available to them. Learn about their faith before Christianity, learn about the way they thought the universe came to be and what made humans human. Eat cultural foods, both yours and not. Talk to your elders, and really listen to what they say. Try to remember the weird superstitions and turns of phrase you grew up with. I promise it's there, and I promise it's beautiful. I promise it will make you feel at home.
In the following weeks I will try my best to dedicate some posts to the beginnings of folk magic. How to get involved, where to look for resources, what makes a good resource, what keywords to use when searching, what to do when it feels like there's nothing out there for you, how to find which culture you are a part of. Until then, I will leave you with my sincerest gratitude for reading this ridiculously long complaint.
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Doyle White, Ethan (2016). Wicca: History, Belief, and Community in Modern Pagan Witchcraft. Brighton: Sussex Academic Press. 
Climenhaga, L. (2012). Imagining the Witch: A Comparison between Fifteenth-Century Witches within Medieval Christian Thought and the Persecution of Jews and Heretics in the Middle Ages. Constellations, 3(2). 
“The Dehumanization and Demonization of the Medieval Jews.” Medieval Antisemitism?, by François Soyer, Arc Humanities Press, Leeds, 2019, pp. 45–66.
Simpson, Jacqueline (1994). Margaret Murray: Who Believed Her, and Why? Folklore, 105:1-2: 89-96.
Murray, Margaret Alice (1933). The God of the Witches. S. Low, Marston & Company, Limited.
Bracelin, Jack (1960). Gerald Gardner: Witch. Octagon.
Heselton, Philip (2012a). Witchfather: A Life of Gerald Gardner. Loughborough, Leicestershire: Thoth.
Valiente, Doreen (2007) [1989]. The Rebirth of Witchcraft. London: Robert Hale.
"Britain's chief witch dies at sea". News of the World. 23 February 1964. Archived from the original on 8 September 2018.
Heselton, Philip (2003). Gerald Gardner and the Cauldron of Inspiration: An Investigation Into the Sources of Gardnerian Witchcraft. Capall Bann.
Lamond, Frederic (2004), Fifty Years of Wicca, Sutton Mallet, England: Green Magic, pp. 16–17.
Kelly, Aidan. About Naming Ostara, Litha, and Mabon. Including Paganism. Patheos.
Ambiguous Deities on Celtic Gold, Numismatic News. February 27, 2023.
Price, Neil (2002). The Viking Way: Religion and War in Late Iron Age Scandinavia. Uppsala: Department of Archaeology and Ancient History, Uppsala University.
Bourne, Lois (2006). Dancing with Witches. London: Robert Hale. p. 38.
39 notes · View notes
redphlox · 5 months ago
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Are you feeling about Touya? I can't imagine Horikoshi it would be way too cruel, especially since him and Shouto need to eat soba together.
Feeling hopeful. I know the general consensus in the Dabi fandom right now is fear and despondency but when I look at the overall picture of the story, Touya dying doesn't make any sense and there's a lot of setup for him to survive.
The random guard/whoever saying Touya is heading toward a slow death means nothing to me. Not when Ujiko, the brilliant (but evil) doctor who saved Touya from certain death on Sekoto Peak, was wrong about Dabi's body not surviving a month after he woke up from the coma. The core of Touya's character is literally about survival and determination, going above and beyond to exceed expectations to live and be seen. I also feel that there might be something within Touya that allows him to survive, which is how he has any fire resistance at all. He was crying actual real tears this chapter instead of blood, which hints that his body is healing. I've seen other people theorize that Shouto's Phosphor has healing properties, which is promising and more in line with the stories' themes and messages than Touya dying again.
Overall, the tone of the Todoroki family arc is positive and hopeful. Yes, Fuyumi quit her teaching position, but one of the students' parents helped her find another one. This means that not only does this one parent believe in her, but so does this new employer. And those kindergarteners that Shouto connected with during the remedial license Arc have been supporting him this entire time. These instances show that society is changing their attitude towards the relatives of those who commit crimes and are willing to accept the Todorokis back into society and are literally cheering for them. This doesn't change the fact that some people will definitely hate them, but it's not all doom and gloom. And the soba thing - what a way to connect to someone who was born to replace you! That's a deep connection right there, and that's good. The story has focused a lot on connections and how life-saving and important those can be. Dying would rip that connection and go against the themes
Also, I feel like the Todoroki family would be much more worried and emotionally wrecked if they thought Touya was actually dying. Endeavor keeps talking to Touya about the future and visiting him. Unless all of them are in denial about what is happening, then why would they torture themselves talking about something that can't happen? All these conversations they want to have etc etc. It would be cruel, and Horikoshi is a sensitive guy. I don't think he could write something like that, and it doesn't fit what he's written so far.
To go further than Touya, I wouldn't be surprised if we see Toga and Spinner also on their deathbeds currently too, tbh. I'm thinking that mysterious new character (who is Tenko, no doubt), saved by his regeneration quirk, may help them. There's set up for it via Kurogiri telling Shigaraki his friends are waiting for him, and not to mention Shigaraki's always been the hero of the lov. He might not have saved them emotionally like the hero kids did, but he can save them physically. I'm not sure how exactly it'll all happen but I think they will all be okay in the end.
I know some readers have a different, more critical/negative opinion than I do, and that's fine. Ever since Shigiraki died, I've been saying that it's going to get worse before it gets better and that we're not going to see a resolution to that soon, and that's all been happening. I hate this saying, but, it's not over till the fat lady sings. I'm just going to keep on reading. I keep telling my friends this over and over again but it's kind of like reading the last Harry Potter (author is dead to me) book and stopping/rage quitting when Harry is killed by Voldemort in the forest. Keep reading. The story is not over yet, and a lot can change for the better. Let Horikoshi tell his story.
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alyara-alyara · 6 months ago
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Shane and the 5 love languages. (Ranked on mostly likely to least likely to be his.)
Gift giving
- Shane is definitely someone who's love language is gift giving.
- Shane has his ups and downs at times so and he has anxiety. So he has a hard time expressing himself.
- He wants to show his love so the best way he can is getting you gifts when he has money.
- He does occasionally think he doesn’t do enough for you. He probably feels embarrassed that he has a hard time expressing himself.
- After he quits drinking he’ll have some more money left over. So you and Jas will be getting more gifts.
- When he gifts you a necklace with a wooden chicken charm, he's so happy when he sees your eyes light up.
- If the town had a baby shop Shane would be there every day. If not we would be window shopping.
- (I always had this thought that when he quits drinking he takes up a new hobby. Like wood craving. Nothing big though, something that could be craved with a pocket knife.)
Acts of service
- I feel like Acts of Service is really close to being one of his first love languages.
- We all know Shane knows how to take care of chickens. I like to think he also knows how to take care of the other animals. If not he'll learn how to do he can help you.
- While you water the crops or take care of the kids real quick he’ll feed the animals and open their gates.
- If you ask him to do small like things like passing you a plate, taking the trash out, watching the kids, etc he would do without questions.
- If you need him to run into town and go buy some more seed packets this man would be speed walking.
Quality time
- Shane loves watching movies and TV shows with you. Even if you pick something he doesn’t like.
- He could be in the middle of a movie and he would still give you the tv remote.
- Taking the kids to the park or teaching them how to take care of the animals. He’ll also take the kids and you to the grid ball game.
- When Jas wants to play dress up Shane would let her put makeup on him. It would take a lot of convincing. (He just wants her to be happy)
- If you're sick he will take the day off and try to take care of you. He's not a good cook so cup noodles is as good as it'll get. If you're really sick he’ll visit the clinic for some medication.
Physical touch
- He’s not big on physical touch.
- If you guys are in public he won’t be big in physical touch. He gets a bit embarrassed even though he shouldn’t be.
- The most he’ll do in public is probably hand holding.
- In the private of your own home he gives you little pecks on the cheek when he's going out.
- If you guys are on the bed or sofa for a long time he’ll want to lay his head on your lap, or chest while you pat his head.
- He will give you random hugs from time to time when you see you in the kitchen.
- With the kids, he's definitely affectionate. One of the first things he does when he wakes up is check on them.
- He loves seeing their little hands wrap around his finger.
Words of affirmation
- Shanes is not the best when it comes to expressing himself with words.
- He tries from time to time to give you sweet messages but they are really awkward, but in a cute way.
- Now don’t get me wrong he will encourage you, but when it comes to nicknames and sweet talk that's a different story.
- He will put himself down if he sees other couples being lovey-dovey. Even though you tell him it doesn’t bother you he still feels like he should do better.
- If he's watching something and he's really focused on it he’ll caress your arm or lightly pinch your cheek lightly.
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rowiewritesstuff · 2 years ago
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TFP Yandere Ratchet - The Protective Yandere
At first, Ratchet didn’t really want anything to do with you. You were just another human, taking up space in the base. He was certain you’d be just as annoying as the children- hopefully not as bad as Miko. He’s not sure he could take that. 
When he met you, he was rather rude to you. He brushed you off when you asked anything, and eventually you stopped talking to him. You had noticed his want to be alone, and you respected it. 
Instead, you kept to yourself. You were training to be a doctor- a surgeon, more precisely. Most of the time you were at base, you had your nose in a book. Your focus was hard to break- even Miko’s loud guitar playing didn’t stop you from studying the material for an upcoming test. 
Ratchet is actually fairly observant for a bot who pretends he doesn’t care. He sometimes watches you from the corner of his eye when you’re not looking. You never seem to stop studying. Everyday the bags under your eyes get worse, and he definitely notices it. 
One day (a few months after your first day at the base) he approaches you and asks you what you’re reading - despite already knowing. You’re surprised he talked to you at all, considering how he was before. You’re honestly a little timid responding to the normally grouchy medic, telling him you’re reading a book on surgical techniques and that you’re trying to become a surgeon. 
He begins asking you about them, trying to see the similarities between Cybertronian medicine and Human medicine. He is a little shocked to see that some techniques are similar- though not too many. 
Ratchet slowly begins warming up to you. He lets you ask questions about Cybertronian biology and sometimes even lets you get some hands-on practice for more minor injuries on the other Autobots. You have a skillful hand- careful, steady, and reliable. You soon become the Autobot’s second medic. 
You begin to fall behind in your studies. While you’re excelling at Cybertronian medicine, you begin to mix up some of the procedures. That makes you do poorly on an important test, making your grade go from an A+ to a C-. You quickly realize that you can’t both be a human doctor and a Cybertronian doctor. 
It’s a weekend day that Ratchet came to pick you up that you decided to tell him. During the ride to the base, you picked at your fingers in anxiety. Ratchet, knowing you from all the times he’s watched you, asked what was wrong.
“Ratch… I don’t know if I can keep learning from you. I’m falling behind in my studies- a-and I’ve worked super hard to get them as high as they were. They’re letting me take a make up test, though. I need to study for it.”
Ratchet quickly pulled off to the side of the road. He didn't say a word as he began driving to a large rock formation, going behind it. You got the message and quickly hopped out of his cab as he transformed. 
Ratchet looked down at you with a light glare. “What are you talking about? I’m teaching you valuable information! Where else could you get some hands on experience like this? In this city? That’s absurd. You should be more grateful.” Ratchet took a slight step forward as he huffed at you. 
You took a slight step back. Ratchet hadn’t really talked this aggressively to you before- even before when he was brushing you off. His attitude was making you incredibly nervous. 
“I do appreciate all that you’ve done for me. Really, I do. I’ll still help out with everything when we have medical emergencies at base. But until I get my grades up? I need to focus on my human studies. I can’t just give up my dream like that. I’ve wanted this since I was a little kid.” You looked up nervously at him. Surely he would be reasonable?
He was silent for a moment. Ratchet looked at you, his thoughts going a mile a minute. “I can… help you study, perhaps. It’s for your teacher Mr. Morrison, right?”
A sigh of relief left you. For some reason you couldn’t pinpoint, you were scared of Ratchet for a moment.
You gently nodded. “Yeah, I just need to work on biochemistry for his class. He can be really strict about it, and last time I didn’t do so well.”
A dangerous gleam flashed in his eyes that went unnoticed to you. Ratchet transformed and took you to base where he helped you study for the make-up test. 
After you went home, Ratchet did some research of his own. After all, he had access to government computers. Mr. Robert Morrison was his name. Age 45, living on Monroe Lane. No wife, no kids, or friends. No one.
Ratchet, with that knowledge, waited until all of the bots had gone to recharge to leave the base. He drove out of the town, traveling several miles. Soon, he came to a stop outside of a large home. It was a farmhouse, with a few horses outside of it. A man sat on the porch, cigarette in his mouth. He looked in confusion at the ambulance that parked a few feet from his porch. 
“Hello? Why are you here?” Morrison demanded. Ratchet refused to say a word, sitting in silence as he sized up the lanky man who was making his way to the driver’s window. 
Quickly, he transformed. Morrison screamed in fear as Ratchet snatched the unsuspecting man up by his leg. The now-upside down man struggled to escape the giant robot. 
“You’re Robert Morrison?” Ratchet questioned.
“H-how do you know my n-name?” The man stopped struggling, but remained shaking in fear. 
“Good. You’re him. You’re going to do something for me, okay Robert?” Ratchet glared down at him.
“Y-yes! Anything, anything you want!” Snot and tears fell from the man’s face as Ratchet scoffed at him in disgust.
“You have a student. Their name is (Y/N). I want you to give them top marks for the rest of the time they’re in your class. Do you understand?”
“Th-this is about… a grade?” Morrison looked on in confusion. 
“Are you going to change it, or will I have to use this?” Ratchet transformed one of his hands into a sharp surgical blade. 
“N-no! Please! I’ll do it! I’ll do it! Please, let me go!” 
Ratchet dropped the man to the ground. Morrison yelped in pain as he fell to the ground. He quickly turned to Ratchet in fear. “What are you?”
Ratchet said nothing as he transformed into his alt-mode. He drove right in front of the man, inches away from his face. Morrison shivered in fear as the bot spoke in a low tone. 
“If you tell anyone about what happened here, you’ll find out just what I am. Not that anyone would ever believe you.”
With that, Ratchet left the man on the ground in the dust.
You were surprised the next day to get an apology from your teacher, claiming he had graded your test wrong. He changed your grade the same day. When did he get a cast on his arm?
 When you got back to base, you apologized to Ratchet and let him know the good news. A small smile graced his face as he patted your head. Now you can learn Cybertronian medicine again, and stay with him.
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reina-tries-2-write · 2 months ago
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The Space Between Sounds
Chapter 4: Finding A Place
SYNOPSIS: After a silent week at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech, someone finally reaches out and invites you to participate with everyone. Are they just being pitying or are you really going to find your place?
WC: 2.8K
PREV - MASTERLIST - NEXT
You were sitting alone at lunch today, as usual, and you had noticed that Tired Guy was observing you. You had no idea why, he was probably just being judgmental or something but you couldn’t quite convince yourself that was the case. He looked almost sad for you so you assumed he was just pitying you.
But your assumptions were quickly proved wrong today.
A few bites into your meal, he came over and sat down across from you with a small smile in greeting. He pulled out a yellow notepad and pencil before writing something down and turning it around for you to see.
—Hey! You know you don’t have to sit alone. You’re always welcome to come join us if you want to. Just tell us how you need to communicate and we can do that. We did it with Toge so that’s not a problem at all. Want you to feel like you fit in and everything. And if it’s any consolation, I struggled to fit in at first but they’re all really good people/panda—
You looked at the message a little shocked. You were not used to people taking the time figure out how to communicate with you, let alone inviting you to participate with them. You picked up the pencil and wrote back, hand a little shaky in shock.
—Thank you. I really appreciate that. Kinda used to not fitting in anywhere tbh. Thing is, I can speak, I just don’t sound normal and hate talking—
—We don’t care if you think you sound weird. Toge only talks in onigiri ingredients so you definitely won’t be alone in the unique communication situation—
—I’ll manage. But thank you for including me. I kinda don’t know anyone’s name still since I struggle with new words—
—I’m Yuta. Panda is pretty self explanatory. I told you about Toge and then that’s Maki. She’s a bit intimidating but nice once you get to know her—
—It’s nice to officially meet you. Sorry it took so long. I’ll come sit with you guys—
He nods and smiles at you before leading you over to the table everyone else was sitting at. He gestures for you to take a seat and you end up between him and Blond Guy— Toge, that’s his name.
Picking up on the fact that you knew nothing about anyone, Yuta says something to the group that you don’t quite catch before he hands the notepad to Panda.
He takes a second and writes something down before handing you the notepad back. In his, interesting, handwriting is a proper introduction and an explanation of his cursed technique. Rather the fact he’s a cursed corpse.
After you read, Toge gestures for you to hand him the notepad and does the same. Cursed speech is his technique and it makes sense as to why he covers his mouth. You hadn’t noticed before since you sat alone during meals but he has cursed speech marks, a snake and fangs seal as he explained, on his cheeks and tongue along with having actual fangs which you found pretty cool.
Maki goes next and explains she can’t use cursed energy which you find interesting. Could you potentially give her some and teach her to use it? You had tried with Mari but it didn’t work so you weren’t too hopeful and didn’t bring it up.
Yuta went last and explained his curse, Rika, and his newfound technique— copy. He rambled a bit on the paper and you figured you might be able to help him control cursed energy if he wanted your help that is. He seems pretty damn competent with it already.
He requests you introduce yourself as well since Gojo had apparently not done a good introduction for you and they also had no idea what your cursed technique was. You figured this would be a good time to explain that, while you were touched by the gesture of using the notepad, you could get by without it. So needless to say, you wrote for quite a bit.
—Hey, I’m Y/N. Obvs I’m deaf but I actually can hear cursed energy. Sounds like how electricity feels if that makes sense. My technique is called Energy Flux and along with hearing cursed energy, I can manipulate it. Give it, take it, move it around, stuff like that. But there’s some stuff that’s important about me you should know. I can usually hear you guys coming up behind me because of your energy and stuff but it’s really loud around here and I’m still getting used to it so you’re welcome to tap my shoulder to get my attention if you need. You all sound different so I’m figuring it out. We don’t have to use the notepad the whole time since I can read lips but new terms and names are hard for me at first. So that’s why I had no idea who you guys were until now. But let me know if you have any questions about me and being deaf and stuff. I don’t get offended about it so you’re welcome to ask anything.—
Everyone reads your message and nods, letting you know they understand and will ask when they need. Toge notes the two of you will probably need to keep writing or typing since you don’t know his onigiri language and that he prefers it anyway since his language doesn’t exactly convey much.
***************************************************
Today at lunch, Y/N was sitting alone again, as she had done all week, and I watched Yuta’s mind race. I knew what he was thinking so I nudged him and nodded my head toward Y/N.
He gave me an appreciative smile before digging through his bag for a notepad and pencil. I heard him take a deep breath before going over and sitting down across from Y/N.
Obviously I wasn’t privy to their written conversation but a few minutes later, to my delight, Y/N followed him over to our table. I scooted over on the bench so she could sit between Yuta and I. She was clearly comfortable with him so I hoped she’d be okay with me too.
Yuta explained that she didn’t even catch our names during introductions last week and that we should do a proper introduction. We all took turns writing on the notepad and passing it around.
Y/N’s turn to introduce herself came around and I was actually a bit excited to get to know her. Figure out how she talked in a sense— what she was like.
She handed me the notepad after writing down a good bit of information and I scanned the page. The first thing I noticed was her handwriting. I really liked it and it was a nice personification of how she would sound if she spoke. It gave her tone and emotion that normally wasn’t present with written words.
She explained her technique which I thought was really cool. She could hear cursed energy? That was, well, unheard of. Not only could she hear it but she could manipulate it too. I wondered what exactly she could do with that.
She said we were welcome to ask any questions and after a few basics about how to communicate with her that Panda and Yuta asked, I scribbled down a question.
—What do I sound like?—
She smiles and takes the notepad back, writing down her answer.
—Like a humming noise. It’s not low like a bass speaker but more like a machine. Soft and not annoying. Kinda nice actually. You’re not as loud as Yuta but you’re louder than Panda. He sounds like a cat purring. Yuta sounds like a storm. Crackly, buzzy, the most like electricity. Maki is a quiet buzz but when she gets angry she sounds like electricity too.—
I chuckled at her response and was honestly happy that I didn’t sound annoying to her. I liked that she seemingly liked how I sounded the most. Based on her description, everyone else sounded kinda annoying except maybe Panda. I loved that he sounded like a purring cat— I was definitely going to give him shit for that.
I loved finally getting a little glimpse into who Y/N was and I really liked her personality and seeming resilience. She was doing her best to make the most of her situation and while clearly frustrating, she was still upbeat and kind to us.
****************************************************
You have a good time with everyone at lunch and after going back to the dorms to change into your training outfit, meet up with them in the arena. They’re all talking together when you arrive and you walk up to join, your notes app pulled up on your phone so you can communicate with Toge.
They all greet you and Maki indicates to you that she has a question for you.
“So, theoretically, can you give someone or a weapon cursed energy?” She asks, placing a hand on her hip.
You nod and smile, not expecting someone to be that interested in your technique.
“Show me.” She requests simply, brows raised.
You give her a thumbs up and everyone takes a few steps back, not knowing what to expect. To take or give cursed energy, you have to make contact with the target entity. You can still repel, amplify and manipulate the energy otherwise without physical contact. It’s just that the transfer process is much faster and safe for you this way.
That being said, you simply extend you hand out to her and she gives you an odd expression. You glance from her, to your open palm and back to indicate to her to hold your hand.
She furrows her brows a bit as if she was skeptical of the experience but places her palm face down on top of yours.
You already know she can’t use cursed energy, you can hear her or rather, she’s almost silent, so you channel a very small amount into her hand. To you, cursed energy feels and sounds like electricity, buzzing and slightly tingly and you don’t want to freak her out.
She flinches a bit at the new feeling, her eyes widening as she feels it move through her per your direction. You donate a small amount of your energy to her and once completely transferred, you drop your hand out from underneath hers.
She looks down at her hand, turning her palm up and making fist a couple times before she gives you a genuinely grateful smile. You then point to her polearm lying in the grass next to her and raise your brows. She picks it up and hands it to you, and upon touching it, you feel the energy flowing through it. It is already extremely powerful on it’s own, clearly compensating for her lack of cursed energy so you don’t tamper with it and quickly hand it back.
Training goes by faster than you could have thought and on your way back to the dorms, you reflect on your interactions earlier.
Sure everyone was nice to you which was surprising but welcome but were they just doing it out of obligation? Were they just being nice out of pity? It didn’t quite seem like it, Toge and Yuta being the most genuine with you. Maki was a little more closed off and Panda was hard to understand but was clearly trying to cheer you up and lighten the mood.
Maybe they weren’t being fake.
****************************************************
Y/N seemingly had a good time at lunch and didn’t struggle as much during training today so I figured it would be a good time to invite her to hang out with us again. Dinner would probably be a good, casual, no pressure opportunity for her to join.
I wanted her to continue to feel included and not like lunch was a one time thing. Plus I liked hanging out with her so I pulled out my phone and typed up a message to her.
Toge walks up next to you, snapping you out of your thoughts, and hands you his phone with a message typed up in his notes app.
—Wanna have dinner with us at 7?—
You smile and nod as you hand him his phone back and he accepts, smiling back.
****************************************************
You showered, changed, and hung out in your room until seven rolled around. You walked down the hallway to the kitchen to discover everyone already there, Toge and Yuta cooking something that smelled really good while Panda and Maki sat at the table, chatting.
They all greeted you in some form, smiles and waves once more, and Panda gestured for you to join him and Maki at the table. You sat across from the pair and Panda said something that was clearly directed at you. But you still couldn’t read his lips yet, or snout rather, so you furrowed your brows and pointed to your mouth as you shook your head.
“You can’t read his words?” Maki asks, picking up on your confusion.
You nod, happy someone understood. You pulled out your phone and typed to the pair.
—I’ll pick it up eventually so don’t worry. I’ve just never exactly talked to a panda before—
You watch the pair chuckle at your message and Panda nodded to acknowledge you. He said something again and you picked up on an ‘okay’ assuming he was telling you it was okay and that he’d be patient.
Maki looked up over your shoulder as you heard someone come up behind you. You turned to see Toge sit down next to you, setting a plate of yakitori in front of you. You flashed him a grateful smile that he reciprocated and, after Yuta served Panda, Maki and himself, the five of you dug in.
The food was absolutely delicious and you tapped the table between you and Toge to get his attention. He looks over at you and you point to the plate before giving him a thumbs up. He gives you a thumbs up back and elbows Yuta who is on the other side of him, pointing to you, his plate and giving him a thumbs up.
Yuta peers around him. “Glad you like it.”
Everyone diligently includes you in the conversation and as delighted as you were to be accepted, you knew you were only slowing it down. Toge noticed your change in demeanor and typed to you.
—What’s wrong?—
—I appreciate being included but I know I’m just hindering the conversation—
He vigorously shakes his head no before typing back.
—You’re definitely not. Promise. We want you to participate so we can get to know you and learn your gestures and stuff—
You smile, a bit sadly, but accept and continue answering questions and typing to everyone until you finished eating. After you cleaned up dinner the five of you migrated into the living room to continue your conversation.
****************************************************
In the middle of dinner, Y/N’s expression and body language suddenly changed. She looked sad and upset with something I couldn’t quite tell. No one else seemed to notice so I did what I would have wanted and typed up a quick message to ask if she was okay. For all I knew she could just be lost in thought but I got the feeling something else was wrong.
I tried to hide my sad expression after she answered my question.
She felt like she was being a burden. And I knew exactly how that felt. The two of us have unique communication needs and while I knew everyone here didn’t mind adapting, I understood why she felt that way.
I made sure she knew she wasn’t hindering the conversation in the slightest. She was actually contributing quite a lot to it and everyone was having a particularly good time tonight. Maki was more involved, Panda was a bit crazier and Yuta was more relaxed. She was helping for sure.
****************************************************
In the living room, Toge sat next to you on the smaller couch and you were more comfortable with his presence than you thought you would be. He seemed to understand you in a different way. Quietly. Intently.
Whatever it was about his presence was comforting in a way and you found yourself relaxing into the couch and social situation more fluidly and easily than you had ever done before.
Usually you were pretty guarded when it came to sharing details about yourself aside from surface level explanations about your deafness and the like. But the group had really put in an effort to include you and you could tell they were being genuine. Not pitying.
As you all settled into the living room, the conversation drifted to topics like favorite movies and embarrassing childhood stories. You found yourself laughing more than you had in weeks, and when it came time to share something about yourself, you hesitated for a second before revealing a small detail about your life before Jujutsu Tech. The group listened intently, their reactions kind and encouraging, and for the first time, you felt a glimmer of belonging.
You slowly opened up to them some, still a bit guarded because of past experiences but you could tell they all meant well so you revealed a few little pieces of yourself. Maybe you had found another little band of misfits.
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jovialbasementmusic · 1 year ago
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What do you do with a brainwashed army of cult survivors?
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At the end of Heart Part 2, Etheria still has a population of thousands of Horde Prime’s clones. This is going to be, putting it mildly, a Problem for the Etherians. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen what happens to a cult follower when they are faced with conclusive evidence that their entire worldview was false, but you probably have some intuitive idea. Imagine if you said to a young-Earth creationist “Hey, here are multiple overlapping lines of evidence proving beyond reasonable doubt that life on Earth evolved over hundreds of millions of years,” or to a Scientologist, “Check out this evidence that L. Ron Hubbard was a fraudster who started a cult as a money-making racket!” You can probably guess that in each of those cases, the response is unlikely to be, “Goodness, I have been mistaken all my life! Thank you, kind friend, for relieving me of my false beliefs.”
As someone who’s left a cult, let me tell you, the clones are not all gonna react like Hordak or Wrong Hordak.
You might have heard of cognitive dissonance theory, but most people misuse the term, so I’ll quickly explain it. When humans encounter information which contradicts or disproves their deeply held beliefs, they experience psychological discomfort. This feeling sucks, and people will go to great lengths not to experience it. But when those beliefs are central to your identity and your place in the world, letting go of those beliefs also sucks, and people will go to even greater lengths not to do it. So they resolve the cognitive dissonance however they can. They might decide the person who gave them this information is an evil liar and lash out at them. They might find a way to convince themselves the information is in fact compatible with their beliefs after all, and then try not to think too hard about whatever mangled assemblage of the facts they have settled on, in case it falls apart under closer examination. They might modify their beliefs slightly to fit the facts ("Prime always said he would go away for a while before returning in triumph!"), and then maintain that this is what they thought all along.
As an aside, one of the landmark texts on cognitive dissonance theory is When Prophecy Fails, which tracks the actions of a doomsday cult after the world failed to end on their predicted date. Sure enough, the acolytes of this cult did not abandon their beliefs despite this pretty concrete evidence that they had been wrong. Instead, they started recruiting new followers as hard as possible. They tried to get social reinforcement for their beliefs (“This must be true—look how many people believe it!”) to help them cope with the empirical disconfirmation they’d just lived through. So yeah, this theory is highly applicable to cult behaviour. And Prime’s clones are quite definitely a cult.
So it’s fair to say that just because the Hive Mind is down and She-Ra has just kicked Prime’s ass into oblivion, the clones are not all gonna just accept that Prime is gone and his mission is over. Some of them are going to continue fighting, convinced that Prime is not really gone. Some will insist that their connection to the Hive Mind is still intact, and deliver messages as the word of Prime. At least one clone is going to claim to be the reincarnation of Prime himself, and begin recruiting followers. More likely, several clones will attempt this gambit, creating factions with names like The True Followers of Prime and The Glorious Servants of Prime. These factions will go to war with each other in service of their Prime (honourable, redeeming) against the enemy’s Prime (evil, destructive). As time goes on, these factions’ ideas about Prime’s teachings will diverge, providing new opportunities for conflict. If they’re allowed to go on long enough, probably some benign and progressive versions of Prime’s cult will emerge, teaching that Prime in fact existed to bring peace and freedom to the Universe, and that those warlike factions have strayed from the true path of Prime.
All of this gives the people in charge of Etheria a headache. Etheria doesn’t believe in retributive justice, and as brainwashed cult members, the clones have diminished responsibility for war crimes they committed while Prime was alive. So it’s fair to say they can’t kill them. But they also can’t just ship them all off to live unsupervised in a colony somewhere in case they radicalise each other and start another war. Sure, some of them will follow Wrong Hordak into accepting that Prime lied to them, and they will find meaning by travelling the universe, attempting to restore planets Prime destroyed. Some, like Hordak, will give themselves names and begin the agonising process of creating an identity for themselves outside of everything they ever thought was true. But what of the rest of them? They’re essentially adult children, ignorant of everything Prime did not want them to know. They also trigger PTSD flashbacks in a great many citizens of Etheria, who cannot look at them without remembering what they suffered under the Horde.
What do you do with that many brainwashed survivors? What does compassion and restorative justice demand? I don’t know if I’ll get around to writing this as a fic or not, so here’s the setup and you can let your imaginations take it where you like. I’m new to tumblr and to the spop fandom, so if you read this far I’d really appreciate a reblog. And if anyone else has already had similar ideas, I’d really like to read them.
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createandconstruct · 3 months ago
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Any dadmight headcanons?? 👀👉👈
An excuse to gush about dadmight?????? Anon...thank you so much 🥹
I don't even know how to organize these so I'm just gonna start??? (Under read more cause we kinda lost control?)
During those 10 months of training Izuku actually opened up a lot to All Might. Some of this is Toshi probing but it's also because for the first time Izuku actually feels like someone is really, truly listening to him
Toshi knows (but also infers because Izuku isn't one to point blame) the extent of the bullying and Bakugou's involvement in it, but Izuku made him promise not to do or say anything about it
Which yes Toshi kept his word but he also made sure the behavior was absolutely not continuing as Izuku promised it wasn't (cue Toshinori texting Izuku more frequently, eyeing him for injury a little more carefully during training, asking a few more questions about his day, and giving him a ride home even when Izuku insists he doesn't need it)
This, on top of answering Izuku's training questions for days they don't meet, actually opens the floodgates for them to start messaging each other quite frequently
Though Toshinori definitely prefers talking face to face or on a phone call. Case in point: he's horrible at responding. The first couple weeks of their messaging this stresses Izuku the fuck out because he follows hero news so he knows when All Might is out fighting so when the man isn't and isn't answering - well obviously Izuku screwed something up, All Might's annoyed, and Izuku's ruined the one single great thing he's ever gotten
What follows is a training session where Izuku is sullen and not at all as energetic as he usually is which prompts Toshi to so gently ask him what's wrong. It's so caring and sincere that Izuku crumbles stammering out apologies for bothering All Might with his over texting and Toshi is simply ?????? because he was convinced he had responded? And Izuku is just ?????? And they both look at their messages and then All Might is apologizing because he saw those messages and really thought he had texted Izuku back! And oh! It was a misunderstanding! Thank goodness! Training ends early as Izuku can't stop crying with relief. It leaves Toshi flailing a bit at the reaction and it's what really solidifies how easy to tears the kid actually is.
But this is what forces Toshi to realize he needs to get a little better at being a bit more prompt with his replies. He's a little out of practice considering the only person he's talked to in the last few years in Tsukauchi
Once Izuku starts UA they don't message each other as often since they pretty much see each other everyday but Izuku will sometimes send off a little report about how his day or a specific class went if he doesn't have heroics
Toshi is also very much an emote/emoji user and loves the thumbs up. Izuku loves it too because whenever Toshi sends one he can practically envision his hero throwing it up with a smile right there in front of him.
(Spoilers for the end of manga) I imagine that when Izuku graduates and starts attending university for teaching things slightly shift though and he is absolutely FLOODED by messages. Toshi steps back from teaching and actually takes time to enjoy his retirement. He travels quite a bit (in part because of the Iron Deku armor) but it barely even feels like he's gone for Izuku because legit Every. Free. Moment Toshinori is sending Izuku pictures and little updates from his trips
And the messages are a spectrum. Izuku either gets random photos with 0 context and no caption while he's in the middle of lecture OR Toshinori sends a picture with some silly caption or pun followed by an entire PARAGRAPH of what he's up to
And while the novelty of All Might texting him never truly wears off sometimes Izuku's so busy that he can't respond right away
There's a one time where Toshi, all the way across the Pacific, doesn't get a response (because Izuku has just stayed up all night writing a term paper like the good little college student he is) and (admittedly, a little selfishly, cause Toshi's allowed to be) he just sends Izuku a : (
Izuku wakes up, sees it, and is h o r r i f i e d
He sends a frantic apologetic message and Toshi calls him back laughing and telling him not worry. He tells Izuku to make it up to him by taking a break from studying to go out to eat with him once he's back in Japan
On the topic of traveling, Toshi also ALWAYS brings Izuku souvenirs back. The first few trips he gets little touristy items per the location and while Izuku is always happy and appreciative Toshi ends up going back to gifting rare, exclusive hero merch he sometimes finds (searches/pulls some strings for) because that's still the thing that makes Izuku beam and that's all Toshinori wants to do in his later years
And whenever Toshi is back home they spend quite a lot of time together. They'll see movies together, go out for food, and sometimes Izuku will drop by Toshi's place and just to do homework since it's quiet and they both appreciate the company. Izuku has even fall asleep a few times there and it always makes Toshinori all the more thankful he'd gotten a place with a guest room. One that is specifically tailored to Izuku's preferences mind you.
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kcch-ns · 3 months ago
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OOPS! WRONG PHOTO - denki kaminari
𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 - denki kaminari x afab!reader
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - aged up!!!!! pls no pedos yall😭, lowk cliffhanger, ALSO please bear with me this is SO short
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - what happens when you accidentally send your classmate nudes and he sends them back?
𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 - i’ve never written a ff before so don’t judge me if this is bad😭 all inspiration goes to @sup-hoes-its-me
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you groan again as you erase all the work you just did again. god, who knew being a hero meant you had to learn math. you glance between your phone and worksheet, contemplating if anyone would be willing to help you this late at night.
after a few minutes of just sitting there, looking at that device that displayed 2:29 am, you picked it up. opening your messages app and looking through people who could be awake right now.
kirishima? hmm, he’s probably not awake, he’s been training all day with bakugo. you thought to yourself.
deku? he could be awake but apparently he has a long day with all might tomorrow so i should just let him rest.
kaminari! he’s not doing anything i know of tomorrow and he’s pretty smart.
i clicked on his contact and sent him a quick text, hopefully he’s awake.
texts below
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i stared at the text with wide eyes. holy shit holy shit holy shit. i shook my hands off before texting back a quick ‘yes yes yes😇’.
i stood up and walked over to my bed falling face first onto it. are we studying or is he coming here for more? mayb-
my thought got cut off as i heard a knock on my door. i groaned slightly before i got up and opened the door just to peek my head through.
‘hi’ i said meekly, avoiding looking into his eyes. i could see him smirking through my peripheral vision.
‘hey there!’ he says, inviting himself in and dropping his backpack on my bed. ‘so which homework question did you really need help with?’ he says as he glances as my desk that had papers scattered over it.
‘uhh.. well i was a bit confused on question 4’ i said, walking over to my desk and sitting down, him following behind me and leaning his head over my shoulder.
‘oh this one’s easy peasy, so basically…-‘ he trailed on about some random math stuff as i just sat there completely zoned out.
i mean, could you blame me? the guy i just accidentally sent a tit pic to is right next to me helping me with math homework.
‘…you got that, right?’ he said, turning his head to look at me. i looked to my right and my eyes widened. when did we get this close to eachother??
‘uhh yeah totally’ i lied. hopefully ill figure it out myself soon enough because i honestly did not listen to a thing he said.
he smirked as he noticed my flushed face. ‘so do i get my reward now?’ he said to me, tilting his head a bit.
‘reward? for what’ i said feigning confusion.
‘come onnn, angel. i’d think i deserve something in return for helping you.’ he said, moving even more closer to my face then before.
ummm..what the hell am i supposed to do. should i kiss him? yeah yeah totally. wait no ive never kissed someone before ill mess it up. ugh whatever yolo.
i looked down at his lips, hopefully they’re not chapped, then it’d be really awkward. i leaned in slowly and placed my lips onto his, feeling the slight peach fuzz on his upper lip.
i felt his hand on the side of my face as his thumb rubbed my cheek bone. i pulled away due to the lack of air i got before and during the kiss.
‘i’ve never really done..anything.. before..’ i said, looking down.
‘what, you need me to teach you that as-well?’ he said, squeezing my cheeks together and forcing my head up to look at him.
i nodded slowly while looking directly into his eyes. nervous for what’s to come as i see a devilish grin make its way onto his face.
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a/n: guysss please drop some constructive criticism, i understand my writing is definitely..something! so i appreciate all the help i can get! also i apologize for how SHORT this is, it’s 3 am and my brain is not working properly
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