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redroomreflections · 7 months ago

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Not Easily Broken Chapter 6

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

6/10

Note: Yes,i know the picture has a watermark. it's 2 am.

W/c: 4.2k (less painful to edit!)

Rating: M (Minors DNI; angst, fluff, smut, heartbreak, heart fix? the best ending for them coming soon)

You don’t know how long you’ve stared at the blank paper. Its thin blue lines taunted you. The questions on the tiny notebook assigned to you were intimidating. You’re sitting here, at the kitchen counter, nursing a mug of tea and looking down at the paper. This is the first part of the assignment. Once you’re going to fail. There are several steps Cheryl gave to get things going for both of you. Answer the questions. Find something both of you like to do. Discuss them together. That should be easy, right? Wrong. It’s been four days and counting and you have yet to write anything. Not that there’s nothing to write. No. You have a lot to say. It just can’t be on paper. Neither of you has been good at expressing your thoughts. You’re worse. You come from a family where conflict was solved with abandonment and passive aggressiveness. Two things you do quite well. This venture into vulnerability is foreign. You’re afraid of being the bad guy again. You don’t want to address the unknown. What if even after all of this you and Natasha don’t work out?

You’ve been doing a lot of self-reflecting the past week. There’s always something in the back of your mind that says you’re ruining her life again. You’re ruining your children’s lives. Everything you worked for you ruined. This time would be different. You’re coming into this with a clear head and a fresh perspective. You want your life back. You want your wife back. You want your family. It’s not like you cheated. You didn’t step out of your relationship. You sometimes wish it were so easy. Maybe then your actions can be excused. That’s not the correct way to say it. Cheating is never excusable. You guess it would have been another way to avoid accountability. You blame yourself every day for what happened. Even then guilt is not enough.

You sigh. Back to the questions. You hold the pencil in your hand—first question.

“You lead separate lives despite living in the same household.” You read aloud. Wow. Okay. That’s a tough one right off the bat. It’s relevant. It makes sense considering the context. You write yes. You move on to the second question. “You mostly speak about finances or household chores. Question three you have sex less than once weekly.” You stop your reading right there. You’re three for three. If this is how this is going you’re going to be in therapy for a while.

Were things really that bad? You wonder if Natasha is thinking the same things.

Across town, Natasha is indeed wondering the same things. She’s just finished up her run for the morning, having gotten the kids out of the door and off to school, and now she has the morning to herself. She’s sitting on the couch, her feet propped up on the coffee table, as the notebook rests in her lap. She pushes her glasses further up her nose.

“Sex less than once weekly?” She reads. ‘Sex never’. She writes. It’s true. Besides the phone sex last week she doesn’t remember the last time you two were so intimate. Well, she can. Emma’s fifth birthday party. She would hardly count that as something to brag about. While you’re skilled in the bedroom, she felt dirty afterward. She felt used in a way she wasn’t all that willing to share with you. Sex with you has always meant so much more to her. She hopes it’s the same for you. She doesn’t think about it for too long. She can’t dwell on the fact that her body aches for you. Natasha Romanoff knows her worth. She is aware she could go out and find anyone to fuck. She doesn’t have to go far truthfully. She doesn’t want that. It’s kind of pathetic and she would never admit it to anyone.

Natasha is about to answer another question for the checklist when the doorbell rings. She glances at it, hoping that whoever it is will go away when the ringing becomes more insistent. Natasha rolls her eyes, slamming the book down against the coffee table, to go and answer the door. She swings it open, ready to give whomever it is a piece of her mind when she stops. She crosses her arms and glowers at her visitor suspiciously.

“Romanoff,” Richard grins at her. “Don’t you look swell?” He admires her messy hair, tank top, and running shorts. He waves a file in his hand. “I have work.” He offers her one of the coffees in his and she takes it.

“I thought we were meeting at the tower,” Natasha drops her hands from the door. She walks away without offering him a second glance. He would follow. What she doesn’t see is him checking out her ass as he steps inside. He closes the door behind with and walks with her toward the living room.

“I thought this was much better,” Richard shrugs. “I was in the neighborhood.”

“I’m sure you were,” Natasha rolls her eyes. “Okay, give me a minute to change and I’ll be right back down. I have a couple of notes over there.” She waves her hand somewhere in the room. Though Richard is an asshole she knows he won’t do anything to put her in danger. She leaves him to his own devices to change out of her workout gear. Not that her new outfit would be much better.

Richard stands, walks over to the couch to sit, and places the file on the coffee table. He spots the notebook she’s been writing in. It’s safe to assume it’s the one she permitted him to read. It’s not.

“Healthy relationship checklist,” He reads to himself. “No sex?” He whistles. Wow. That’s disappointing.

“I’m going to have to ban you from my house soon,” Natasha calls down the stairs. He quickly places the notebook back where he found it. Natasha comes into the living room in a simple blue blouse and slacks. She glances at the notebook, noting that it’s moved a few inches, and tsking. “Richard, seriously, you’re my partner. One I didn’t want. At least have the decency of giving me privacy.”

“I’m sorry I was curious,” He raises his hands in surrender. “If it makes you feel any better I haven’t done it in a while either.”

“No, it doesn’t make me feel any better,” Natasha shakes her head. “And I don’t believe you. You’re looking at a sexual harassment complaint and a broken nose if we keep talking about this.”

“Fine,” He shakes his head. “I just think you deserve better.” At Natasha’s warning look he clamps his mouth shut. “I need a consult. Fury wants the entire team on this case but we need your expertise.”

“Why would you need my expertise?” Natasha sits across from him. She takes the file, flipping through the pages before she shakes her head. “What is this?”

“A recruitment center,” Richard describes. “Someone is recruiting young girls to be assassins. Training them to go out and do their bidding. We want to know the best way to, uh, get in there and get out.” He gestures.

Natasha frowns. They could have very well asked Melina Yelena or anyone but her. She’s not an expert on brainwashed children. She only knows so much. Even then she provides him with an answer.

“You’re going to need to get someone on the inside obviously,” She says. “Preferably someone young. Wanda Maximoff could pass. She gets in. Find out who knows what. You protect her with your life. Make sure she feels safe at all times. Know that if it’s as bad as this film reads some of them will die.”

“That’s dark,” Richard comments.

“Well, it’s not all sunshine and roses,” Natasha mumbles. She sets the file back down. “Is that all you needed from me?”

“Well, yeah,” Richard nods.

“Well, I’d like to be alone in my home now,” Natasha says none too politely. She passes him the large envelope. They both stand. She walks him to the door and to both their surprises you’re on the other side. You’re a bit off-put by Richard being there.

“I’m sorry,” You shake your head. “I stopped by to..” You trail off.

“Y/n, so good to see you,” Richard offers you a fake smile that you don’t return.

“He’s leaving,” Natasha makes a face at him. She wasn’t really in the mood for this nonexistent love triangle thing that goes on every time you’re all in the same space. Not that it matters to her. Richard would never be someone that is on her romantic radar. Not when she only has eyes for you.

“Right, leaving,” Richard nods. He’s about to make a joke when Natasha punches him before he can even open his mouth. He holds his sore arm, offering her an “ow!” Before he shakes his head. He walks down the stairs and to his car without another word.

Natasha’s gaze returns to you and the brown paper bag you have in your hands.

“Is that for me?” She asks and you nod silently. Seeing her with Richard does things to you. You follow her into the house where she closes and locks the door. She takes the bag from your hands to set it on the hallway table. You’re not sure who makes the first move but Natasha is in your arms, kissing you, feeling you, and walking backward toward the couch. Your hands are everywhere on her body. You feel the skin under her shirt, down her sides, and her hips, as you push her gently to lie down on the couch. Your kiss is hungry and rough and full of passion. She moans at the feel of your weight atop her. She kisses you back. When your hand slides up her shirt, pinching her nipple through the sports bra she’s wearing, she rips her lips from yours to moan. Her cries go straight to your core. You’re lying here between her legs, kissing her neck now, and holding her right where you want her. Natasha enjoys your touch. It excites her. It makes her feel wanted. She raises her hand to place it over yours.

“Y/n,” Natasha begs. She doesn’t know exactly what for. She imagines it would be so easy to allow you to take her right here. Right now. The kids aren’t home. There’s no one here to stop her. Even so, she can’t help the nagging feeling at the back of her mind. “Y/n.” The tone of her voice stops you in your tracks. You lift to look into her concerned eyes.

“What’s wrong?” You ask. You take in her kiss-swollen lips, her mussed hair, and her flushed skin. She looks so damn sexy.

“You did this last time,” Natasha points out. Her voice is small and barely there. You can tell she’s trying to keep the conflict at a minimum. You give her a confused look. What was she talking about? “It’s… it’s stupid.” She shakes her head. “I can't help but notice. Every time Richard comes around you feel the need to stake your claim in some way.”

“I don’t do that,” You scoff. She gestures to the spot on her neck that’s formed into a slight purple bruise. When did you do that? You deflate, sitting up, removing yourself from her embrace. You take deep breaths. Were you doing that to her?

“I didn’t want to bring it up to upset you,” Natasha instantly misses your touch. She fixes her shirt, adjusts her bra, and moves to sit closer to you. “I don’t want you to want me because someone else does.”

“Do you seriously think that?” You question. “Nat, baby,” You breathe. “I want you because I missed you. I want you because I find you attractive. I want you because you’re everything.” You take her hand in yours. “I don’t want you to think I’m doing it to show ownership over you. That’s not something I want.”

“I want to be yours,” Natasha confesses quietly. “Just not like that.”

“I understand,” You nod. Natasha kisses your pouting lips. You smile. The notebook on the coffee table catches your eye. “So you’ve been doing the assignment.”

“I have,” Natasha glances at the paper.

“It’s pretty eye-opening,” You say and she nods in agreement. “I didn’t think things were that bad for us. I mean, I know, we got a divorce. I just…it puts things into perspective.”

“It does,” Natasha runs a hand through her hair.

“I want this to work for us,” You admit. “I’m sorry. I am. I want us to work.”

“Me too,” Natasha kisses your lips again. “Did you bring your book? We could go over some of the questions now.”

“I did,” You say as you reach over her legs to the bags you brought. You pull out the book, cracking it open to the page you’ve written on, while Natasha opens hers. “So, I’ve realized a lot of these are things we’ve done at the beginning of our relationship. We seemed to enjoy each other then. Pre-kids I guess.”

“Hmm,” Natasha hums.

“Okay, this question,” You go to one you haven’t answered yet. “Please be truthful. Don’t hold back because you think it’s going to hurt my feelings.” Natasha nods. She could do that. “Do you feel comfortable being yourself around your partner?”

Natasha bites her lip. “I have always felt I could be myself with you. There were times I didn’t think I could. That maybe I needed to play a part to, um, make you happy.”

“I felt the same way,” You mumble. “Nat, I’m -”

“You’re sorry that’s understandable,” She shakes her head. “It’s something we have to work on. I love you for you. I’ve always loved you for you.”

“I’ve always been attracted to everything about you,” You begin. “I’ve always loved your personality. Your tenacity. Your humor. Your ability to be vulnerable.” Natasha blushes under your intense gaze. She takes her pen to write a few things before moving on to the next question.

“You rarely hug, hold hands, or touch each other in a non-sexual way,” She reads aloud. There’s a silence that neither of you breaks. “The butt rubs stopped.” She points out.

“What?” You look at her in surprise. “I guess they have. Was that the first indicator that something was wrong with you?”

“It was one,” Natasha shrugs. “I just thought you needed space and it’s not always a sexual thing but we stopped touching each other. It wasn’t only you. I stopped too.”

“Damn,” You curse under your breath. “We could try it now? I mean, one of our exercises was extended cuddling time. Now would be the perfect opportunity.” You offer and Natasha likes that idea. She takes both notebooks to sets them down on the table. You lie down first and she crawls on top of you. Her head rests on your chest, your arms wrap around her waist, and you simply hold each other. Your shared breathing and warmth lull you to a place of comfort. Natasha wriggles her butt, silently asking for your hands on her, and you oblige. You reach down, and your right hand travels over the slope of her soft, supple behind, before you rub. It’s tentative touches at first. Just a simple swipe of your hand before your rubs turn into kneading. You massage the covered flesh in your hands and Natasha hums.

“I missed this,” She mutters into your chest. She peeks her head up at you. Her eyes travel from your eyes to your lips. She follows through with whatever thought she’s having and she kisses you. Her kiss is gentle and reassuring. She lingers, her lips brushing against yours before she opens her eyes again. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” You kiss her again. “So much, Natasha.” She smiles widely. She can’t describe how happy she feels right now. She’s here with you, in your arms, and there’s no other place she’d rather be. Her happiness surges to something else entirely. Suddenly all she wants is you. She kisses you again, deeper, harder, this time it’s all teeth and tongue. She sucks her bottom lips into your mouth, eliciting a moan from deep inside you and your grip on her ass loosens.

“We shouldn’t,” She breathes between kisses.

“You’re right,” You nod in agreement. “Though she did say we could.”

“It’s not like we need permission,” Natasha smirks. “We’ve done this before.”

You shrug. She may be right.

“Which means I know how to get creative,” You flip the both of you over in one swift move. You adjust Natasha against the pillows, her hair fanning out under her, as you lie beside her legs. “Interesting choice of attire today.”

“It was either this or the workout gear,” She laughs.

“It’s okay, makes it more fun,” You take nimble fingers to the buttons of her blouse. Natasha watches as you unbutton to reveal her smooth skin. “Tell me to stop.” You say but she doesn’t say a word.

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” She challenges. You slide your fingers under her bra cap, feeling her nipple harden under your palm, and she shivers.

“I’ve always liked you,” You joke and she nips at your chin. “I love you.” You correct and she hums. Much better. You twist her nipple, bordering on harsh, and Natasha practically jumps out of her skin. God, she’s missed this. You lean your head down, pushing the cup to the side, to suck her rosy nipple into your mouth. You swirl your tongue, alternating between licking and sucking and Natasha drops her head against the pillows again. You make sloppy sucking noises, only proving to turn her on further, as she rests a hand over your head to keep you there. “I want to make you cum.” You release her nipple with a pop.

Natasha is a grown woman. She likes sex. She enjoys sex. She’s about to throw away all of her reservations and tell you to do whatever. You offer an alternative. You button her slacks, zipping them down far enough for your hands to reach inside and you slide in. Your fingers ghost over the lips of her panties, pushing to feel the wetness seeping through, and Natasha preens.

“Like this then?” You say and she nods. That makes it more fun. You rake your nails over Natasha's pussy, finding the small nub peeking through the fabric, and you pay the most attention to that. Natasha arches her back and forces you to press against her deeper. “You like that baby?” You ask. “Is this what you wanted?” You ask as you work your magic through the cotton of her panties. Natasha nods her head, mouth open, eyes closed in complete pleasure.

“Ngh,” She moans her words caught in her throat, as she rocks her hips into your fingers. It feels so damn good. This entire act may seem a bit immature but she doesn’t care. Your fingers are on her, practically inside of her, and even with the thin barrier of her underwear she feels everything. You are firm in your movements. You’re purposeful with every circling of your fingers. Your movements go from small tight circles to wide and rough as Natasha moans louder. “Yes,” She hisses between her teeth. “Yes.”She whines and you know she’s close.

“Chase it, baby,” You encourage. “You’re so pretty like this. At my mercy.” You continue. “The perfect doll. So open and wet for me.” You kiss her bare shoulder, her neck, her chest. Anywhere you can reach. It feels so dirty here. The smell of her sex reaching your nose. The sound of shuffling and moving against the cushions is the only thing heard in the entire house. You want to give Natasha this. You need to give it to her. “My pretty girl. I want to make you my pretty wife again.” You find yourself saying and it’s the right thing. Natasha stiffens, and her left hand comes to grip your right arm as her hips thrust against your fingers. Even through her panties, you can feel the sudden gush of wetness from her. Natasha whimpers pitifully as you talk her through it. “That’s it, baby. I know. Your pussy feels so good.” You whisper closer to her ear. When she finally comes down, Natasha falls limp against the cushions and you catch her. You remove your fingers from her pants, resting them by her side, as you watch the rise and fall of her chest. Natasha opens her eyes a moment later, a bit startled by the fact that you’re watching her, and she shakes her head. You kiss her swollen lips.

“You did so well for me,” You praise and delight in her skin turning into an even redder shade. “I liked seeing you cum.”

“Stop,” Natasha groans. You chuckle. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for your orgasm,” You deny her. “I had fun doing it. I’d like to do it again soon. Maybe with that strap, you’ve been asking for.”

“I’d like that.” Natasha nods.

“This didn’t change things for you right?” You question and she tilts her head. “I mean to say that I meant what I said about making you my wife. It wasn’t just something I was saying to get you off.”

“It worked either way,” She quips. “I want that too. With you. Someday.”

“Good,” You smile. You trade kisses with Natasha, noting her sudden fatigue until you fall asleep in each other’s arms. You weren’t exactly intending to but you know you both need it.

************

A few hours later you’re awakened by the sound of the front door unlocking. The kids are home. You awaken first, tapping Natasha awake, and she only nuzzles into your body further. She’s not ready to move away.

“Unbelievable,” Yelena Belova’s voice interrupts your bliss. You both pop up to see the blonde standing over the two of you with a look of disgust on her face. “I can’t believe it.” Yelena shakes her head.

“Mommy!” Emma and Ryan chorus. Natasha makes quick work of buttoning up her shirt and pants without them seeing. It’s Yelena who notices and shakes her head.

“Is this why you wanted me to pick them up?” Yelena asks but then she drops Emma’s backpack onto the ground. “You know what, I’m leaving, I don’t even care.” She heads for the front door. You watch in trepidation as Natasha races after her.

“Yelena,” Natasha calls after her younger sister. “Yelena, you’re acting like a child.”

“And you’re being stupid,” The woman insults. She turns back to Natasha with a disappointed look on her face. “You can’t think one quick fuck is going to make her stay. She left you. She left your kids. I can’t fucking believe this.”

“Yelena, that’s enough,” Natasha speaks firmly. “You don’t know what’s going on.”

“Well I have eyes,” Yelena argues back. “ I think I can see.”

“She’s my wife,” Natasha pleads with her sister to understand.

“No,” Yelena rants. “She’s your ex-wife that broke your heart.”

“And she’s trying to make things better,”

“And just like that, you believe her? You’re smarter than that, Natasha.” Yelena scolds her sister. Natasha doesn’t speak. “Don’t call me when she decides she doesn’t want to play house anymore.” Yelena walks away after that.

Natasha watches as her sister gets into her car and drives down the street. How was she supposed to respond to that? She turns back toward the house to see you standing on the steps waiting for her.

“That was intense,” You comment. Natasha nods. You hold out your arms for her to step into them. She hides her face in your neck.

“Am I being stupid?” She mumbles into your neck and you almost miss it.

“No, Natasha,” You assure her.

“Don’t make me look stupid,” She pleads. “I won’t survive it this time.”

“Me either,” You hold her.

You wouldn’t give this up again. You understand that Natasha’s family has a right to be cautious. They have a right to hate you. You could only hope that they see that you’re trying.

---> next part

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you #natsxaddiction #natasha romanoff smut

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jq37 · 11 months ago

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.....fuck. Ok, so the simple answer is Cassandra's going Nightmare King. But that "she's at my side once more" thing gives me hope that this is something else and not entirely Kristens fault. Could be the Elf side of Galacaea reacting badly to the Wolf side gaining prominence and she's trying to grab for any piece of her old self to gain a controlling foothold. On the lighter side of things, Kristen believing she's a full-on actual political candidate and trying to give a speech to steel-workers was gut-bustingly hilarious. Less light-hearted, Adaine needs to stop attacking her financial woes as a teenager and start attacking it as a wizard adventurer. And lose the crap job, a 40% discount is not worth those 8 hours she's losing every shift. She can get a lot more done with that time. But she's a kid who's trying to solve this on her own instead of the common sense move of reaching out to adults who know more. Siobhan commits to the bit, I'll give her that. Bizarely, Gorgugs 400% course load is actually is the most solvable problem. Get Digby and Wilma to tutor him and help him speedrun through the Freshman and Sophomore material and then play catch-up on the Junior year material. He might have drop the Owl Bears, he needs those hours. Fig is killing it so hard in all her classes, it would be fucking hilarious if she's the Bad Kid who graduates as valedictorian. This one ran long, sorry about that.

OK, my quick thoughts on everything before I sit down to write this recap tomorrow (I finished my notes today--geez these JY eps are LONG):

Kristen: Wild that the thing Kristen has chosen to go all in on is her high school bid for class president and not *gestures vaguely* literally anything else. Funny, but wild. My best guess until we have more info is that this is an "As above so below" thing because the wizards getting ripped and aggressive is super random except for the fact that the main things that Kristen has been doing in the past few months is getting ripped and being aggressive to Cass. But we're working with incomplete info so we'll see.

Adaine: Girl, take Aelwyn's chest of rubies and sell it for cash and buy stuff with that! Or better yet, use your Oracle/general divination powers to figure out the lotto numbers/stock futures and exploit that! Honestly, even killing your mom is a better plan that working at Fantasy Auntie Anne's!

Gorgug: :( Hang in there buddy. It's wild when everyone else is dealing with kind fantasy problems--even Adaine's thing is tinged with Fantasy what with the absurdity of the items she needs to get--and Gorgug is just dealing with…a completely regular school problem. That's rough man. I personally feel like I'd try to join a club or something to show off my skills rather than doing it on the books if this requires a 400% course load but I hope he can make it work. Though, it would also be interesting for them to do a, "There's no shame in trying and failing," storyline because man that's just so much work and that's an important thing to learn.

Fabian: If you want Adaine to be at your party then give her some of your massive pile of gold so she doesn't have to work a crappy mall job. The girl is filtering gold flecks out of discounted booze and you know that because you're the one who gave her permission to do it. Either help her or don't be sulky when she can't make your shrimp party!

Fig: Fig as surprise valedictorian has the same energy as Annie realizing she and Shirley are neck in neck for the position even though Annie is the type A control freak (this is a Community ref for anyone who's like whomst?). That would be so funny. But also, it wouldn't be crazy! Fig was super preppy before she decided to be punk. I wouldn't be surprised if her grades were always good and she's also passionate about everything she does. If she wasn't set on sticking it to the man, she'd be so so so solid.

Riz: You didn't mention him but I wanted to give him a section anyway. Hi Riz :)

OK, that's it for now. Can't wait for next ep! (And no worries about this ask being long. I like getting long D20 Asks!)

#asks #farmer-10 #fantasy high #dimension 20 #fhjy #d20 #fantasy high junior year #spoilers

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masonhawthorne · 9 months ago

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What I read in March

Hoo boy, it's taken me a while to get around to this again, huh? I want to say March was a busy month, but it's too much of a blur for me to remember what was going on. I feel like I was climbing a lot (I've taken up rock climbing, have I mentioned?) but otherwise, I have no clue where March went.

Anyways, I got some good reading done!

Edge of Infinity, ed. Jonathan Strahan ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Analysis & Critique: How to Engage and Write about Anything, Dorsey Armstrong ⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Will of the Many, James Islington ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

And Put Away Childish Things, Adrian Tchaikovsky ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Gold Coast, Kim Stanley Robinson ⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Best Science Fiction & Fantasy of the Year Vol 11, ed Jonathan Strahan ⭐️⭐️⭐️

New Rules & Guidelines From HR for Working with Humans (ss), Derin Edala ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Angel (ss), Derin Edala ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Martian: Lost Sols (ss), Andy Weir ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Forever Peace, Joe Haldeman ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Merciless Waters, Rae Knowles ⭐️⭐️

Dune Messiah, Frank Herbert ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Cursed Heart, Derin Edala⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Lair of the White Worm, Bram Stoker ⭐️

Pacific Edge, Kim Stanley Robinson ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Phytophthora Nosferatu (ss), J Corvine ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Minty Fresh, J Corvine⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Labyrinth of Dreams, Derin Edala ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Angels Before Man, Rafael Nicolás⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Lure, Tim McGregor ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Fascination, Essie Fox ❌❌❌

There were a couple of surprises for me this month, some were nice surprises, and some were...somewhat less than nice surprices. It's good, gotta have some surprises to keep you nimble.

The Will of the Many by James Islington was the first surprise, I had thought I'd like it well enough, the concept seemed interesting, and it turns out that it was actually fantastic. A smooth take on the dystopic genre, with a great attention to detail, and handling of social forces on the characters. The scifi elements might have come off as a bit silly if they'd been handled less skillfully, but over the course of the novel the real horror of the hierarchy becomes ever more apparent. Also it ends on a killer cliffhanger--where is the sequel??

A slight disappointment was that The Gold Coast and Pacific Edge, books two and three of Kim Stanley Robinson's The Three Californias Trilogy were...just not quite as good as the rest of his work that I've read. I found that TGC focussed too much on the 'futuristic party boy hedonist' archetype that I find stultifying in fiction, and while the surrounding worldbuilding was interesting I just could not stand any of the characters.

PE on the other hand was kind of...boring? Now don't get me wrong, I love boring books, but it was boring in the sense that I was reading it feeling like 'ok now when's the story going to happen?' there are only so many softball games which are metaphors for small town politics and romantic relationships that I can sit through. The other problem with PE, I think, is that it is aggressively middle of the road. In the other California novels, the protagonists have Forces to Push Against, but PE is set in a kind of idyllic postcapitalist cooperative, where small town politics is the biggest thing going on and the main conflict of the book can be solved with a strongly worded awareness campaign. Like I GET what was being done, but I also feel like this one could have been a third as long as it was and carried the same weight, but perhaps with fewer softball games.

Dune: Messiah was a nice surprise, I only read Dune last year, and I really enjoyed it, but I've only ever heard that the series goes downhill after the first one. Absolutely not! I'm really looking forward to reading the rest of Frank Herbert's Dune books!

The two real clunkers this month were The Lair of the White Worm by Bram Stoker, and The Fascination by Essie Fox. Both for similar reasons, actually. There was a whole lot of racism going on, in ways that were, y'know, disappointing but not surprising from a guy writing shock novels a hundred-and-something years ago, but really pretty upsetting from a novel that was published in 2023 and has lots of very positive reviews.

Having read several Stoker books now, I found that there was little of the sort of charm that I've come to expect from his writing. The characters were kind of flat and unpleasant, and the antagonists were evil for the sake of being evil. I'm actually surprised that this is one of his later works, because it reads as so much less sophisticated than the other things I've read.

The Fascination was the gift that kept on giving, if the kinds of gift you like are things like racism, ableism, and biphobia which seem bad at first, and then keep doubling down on themselves. The book also has an air of smug superiority, presenting sequence after sequence of exploitation dreck and then turning smirkingly to the reader like 'see I bet you assumed [something racist, ableist, biphobic, etc]'. The end of the novel hinges on a big reveal, which is that...one of the focalising characters has a disability. Which should, apparently, reframe how we've understood the character from the beginning, and which should shock us out of our assumptions that people with that disability couldn't be main characters. Or something.

I think it takes a lot of work to write something that makes the disability representation in Game of Thrones feel subtle and nuanced.

There was so much wrong with The Fascination that I could probably spend another several paragraphs listing them, but to be honest reading the book was unpleasant enough, I don't really feel like spending my evening reliving all that. My final criticism is that the book is insufferably twee and self satisfied. There was not one sentence that made me think that it was worthwhile to read.

To end on a positive note, all of the indie books and stories that I read were delightful! I've included links to most of them above, and it's really refreshing to read stuff that is smart, well written, and which actually has something interesting to say, even if that something is 'hey wouldn't it be super fucked up if there was a vampire in your flower bed?'

Anyways, that's enough for this month!

[hey wait, psst, did you know, I've got a novelette? It's available now: https://books2read.com/u/3kOvKn ]

Stars awarded at my whim

ss=short story

#what i read

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innytoes · 2 years ago

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could you write a jatp fanfiction where Flynn and Julie have to solve Carrie's murder? Nick and Carrie fought very aggressively at a party and Julie, Flynn, and the phantoms (which are still ghosts but can transfer into human form if they want to) find her dead the next day. She can die however you like. It would be cool if ir ended with "turns out we have a murder to solve."

Okay but Stupidest Season 2 Canonverse. Carrie gets murdered and ends up as a ghost. But ever since Julie's magic hug, the boys can't see other ghosts that have been made after the Magic Hug.

So Carrie is just like, screaming at them. She is... so mad. These people are in her HOUSE. Sneaking around an ACTIVE CRIME SCENE. How did they even get in urgh she's so mad she just wants to go to her room and-

Poof she's in her room. Okay some parts of being a ghost are cool.

Her dad has been at some kind of mental health retreat ever since the Orpheum show, because he always bails when she's less than perfect and has Emotions, whatever. Then Nick had been acting weird and when she called him out on it they had this massive fight where he said unspeakably cruel things to her in front of EVERYONE, and now she's DEAD.

And her ex best friends are in her house talking about murder and blood magic and sacrifice and she knew Julie was a weirdo, she always did, but this is a bit much.

And then she realises Julie’s stupid holograms are ghosts too, except they're not anymore, and she's so mad because they're IGNORING HER that she flings a Care Bear Nick gave her once at Alex' stupid head.

And they're himbos, so they're like: Omg this is a clue...

Flynn knows Nick gave that bear to her and Carrie is like: Um, stalk my Insta much? (But secretly she's touched, even if it's highly likely it's like, hate-stalking. Which she 100% does to Julie and Flynn. THERE ARE UNRESOLVED FRIENDSHIP BREAK UP ISSUES THERE.)

So Carrie basically follows around Julie and Flynn and these stupid himbos, sulking about how it's not fair, but at least her funeral is nice, and then there's some kind of creep in a top hat hanging around Nick, and he's acting weird, and then the top hat creep turns into mist and goes INTO Nick, and she does not like being a ghost anymore okay.

She poofs away to the Molina garage because it's somewhere she's always felt safe, only to find Julie's stupid himbos talking over the case. They have one of those bulletin boards with strings that crazy people have and everything. And there's this pretty boy talking to Pink Hoodie Himbo, and she just snarks them because it's soooo obvious they're in love yet he keeps hesitating and finally she just snaps: "JUST KISS HIM ALREADY."

And Willie looks over, shrugs, and does so, leaving Alex speechless for a solid 5 minutes and the other two boys snickering. And then Alex goes: what the hell was that?

Willie: she told me to!

And then Willie figures out that the guys aren't being dicks to some lifer who can see them by ignoring her; Carrie's a ghost and they can't see her, and everything is very confusing for a long while and they talk it all out and get Julie and Flynn. Carrie tells them through a game of telephone (she tells Willie who tells Alex who tells Julie who tells Flynn) about the creepy top hat guy fucking with her definitely-ex-now-that-she's-dead boyfriend.

And they work together and defeat Caleb and free Nick and Carrie has her redemption arc. Julie gives Carrie her own Glowy Hug Of Love and she comes back as a kind-of-lifer again, just like the boys. Only now she has cool teleportation skills, and she is going to be insufferable about it.

Weeks later, they're chilling on the couch and Reggie is like: it's so cool you're so nice to Nick, given how Caleb was wearing his face when he murdered you, which had to be pretty traumatic.

(Alex, whispering: dude, don't bring that up, it's rude.)

And Carrie is like: what are you talking about? I tripped over my bedazzler and hit my head on the table.

#julie and the phantoms #this is not what you asked for and yet this is what my brain threw up so... started making it had a breakdown bon appetit #carrie wilson #not!fic #the stupidest version of season 2 you could imagine #I wrote a thing

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biblenewsprophecy · 9 months ago

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Voting: The World Wants to Be Deceived

COGwriter

The 2024 presidential election may well feature Donald Trump vs. Joe Biden. Many are not pleased with that.

Yet, various ones have convinced themselves of the superiority of one or the other of them as being the hope for the USA.

Consider the following from Daily Reckoning:

The World Wants to Be Deceived

April 3, 2024

“Mundus vult decipi, ergo decipiatur” — the world wants to be deceived, so let it be deceived.

We believe there is vast justice here. The world yearns to be deceived, eternally and infinitely deceived.

Why else — sisters and brothers — do people attend magic shows… consult psychics… or read New York Times editorial columns?

Why, indeed, do people vote?

The answer, so far as we can discern, is because they wish to be deceived. https://dailyreckoning.com/the-world-wants-to-be-deceived/

It is a deception, at least from the perspective that humanity can solve its major problems itself ignorning the word of God and not placing its hope in the return of Jesus and the establishment of the Kingdom of God.

The Bible teaches:

14 Blessed are those who do His commandments, that they may have the right to the tree of life, and may enter through the gates into the city. 15 But outside are dogs and sorcerers and sexually immoral and murderers and idolaters, and whoever loves and practices a lie. (Revelation 22:14-15)

We should not believe the lie that voting, per se, will solve the problems of a nation.

In 2023, Daily Reckoning posted the following:

The ‘lesser of two evils’ voters who could decide 2024

June 28, 2023

President Joe Biden’s path to victory in 2024 runs through voters who think he’s been a disappointment in the White House — but say Donald Trump or another Republican would be even worse.

Biden’s approval rating stands at 43% in the latest NBC News national poll, not enough support to translate to a re-election win. But another 10% of registered voters say they only “somewhat disapprove” of Biden’s performance. And in a hypothetical rematch with Trump, half of those voters say they would support Biden, while 39% say they would back Trump.

A man from California who is a self-described “very liberal” voter likened the matchup to “choosing the lesser of two evils.” …

The NBC News poll of 1,000 registered voters — 831 of whom were reached by cellphone — was conducted June 16-20 and has an overall margin of error of plus-minus 3.1 percentage points. https://www.aol.com/news/lesser-two-evils-voters-could-090000198.html

I am NOT a voter nor a Democrat nor a Republican –I am a non-partisan Christian looking for the return of Jesus and the establishment of the Kingdom of God.

Notice something that Daily Reckoning posted related to the 2012 USA presidential election:

When confronted with the false dilemma of the democratic political process, many individuals settle for the “less of two evils” as a kind of compromise. But one suspects (or hopes) they do so with a certain degree of moral discomfort. Ask a disciple of the Elephant Party, for example, if he agrees with the murderous drone attacks this moment underway in Pakistan and you will likely offend a delicate delusion of “Democrats for Peace.” Similarly, press any Donkey Party advocate on the issue of economic freedom and watch them squirm under close scrutiny of their own candidate’s position vis-Ã -vis the IRS, the Federal Reserve, the indigestible, 75,000- page tax code, etc., etc., etc., . . .

Contrary to the popular snipe that “only those who vote have the right to complain,” common sense leads us to quite the opposite conclusion. It is only those who have not aggressed against others who have the right to complain when they are aggressed against. Those who, to invert a phrase, “feed the mouth that bites them,” may stand firmly, but do so on shaky ground.

A vote for either evil is nonetheless a vote for evil. (Daily Reckoning, October 19, 2012)

It is interesting to see a secular source coming to similar conclusions regarding the ‘democratic system’ and the US presidential election.

Consider that Jesus warned:

25 Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation, and every city or house divided against itself will not stand. (Matthew 12:25)

17 Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation, and a house divided against a house falls. (Luke 11:17)

The divide in the USA is growing as many of its sins (including hypocrisy) become more blatant.

That said, as posted here several times before, I consider that both Donald Trump and Joe Biden are evil.

Without going into unique specifics about either, let’s consider how they are both similar:

Neither lives like a member of their professed faiths is supposed to try to live.

Both support many aspects of the LGBTQ+ agendas.

Both have repeatedly supported increasing US debt.

Both have publicly made numerous gaffes and misstatements.

Both are white septuagenarians who have been accused of openly praising white supremacists. (https://nymag.com/intelligencer/2019/03/joe-biden-donald-trump-similarities-2020.html)

Both have called for unchecked empowerment of law-enforcement entities.

Both have been accused of sexually harassing numerous women.

Neither has called for national repentance.

Neither has sought first the Kingdom of God.

Both have been leaders in Administrations that have upset the Europeans.

Both have been accused of serious corruption.

Both have been accused of hypocrisy.

Now, I am not trying to say that there are no differences. Yes, I know they have differing economic and climate policies as well as different views on abortion and racial matters. A related video is Biden, Trump, and the Bible.

As far as being hypocritical goes, the Book of Job teaches:

13 … And the hope of the hypocrite shall perish, (Job 8:13)

The Bible prophecy warns that God will punish and destroy “an hypocritical nation” (Isaiah 10:6, KJV) in a prophecy related to the USA.

The Bible teaches:

1 Cry aloud, spare not; Lift up your voice like a trumpet; Tell My people their transgression, And the house of Jacob their sins. (Isaiah 58:1)

These national sins include abortion, sexual immorality, promoting pornography, false witness, violence, economic theft through debt and other means, hypocrisy, disdain for the God of the Bible, covetousness, and a host of others.

See also, our free online book, The Ten Commandments: The Decalogue, Christianity, and the Beast.

As far as voting goes, notice something that international author Doug Casey wrote about it:

March 29, 2019

Democracy is vastly overrated. …

Most of the founders of America were more concerned with liberty than democracy. …

Voting encourages politicians. A vote against one candidate—a major, and quite understandable, reason why many people vote—is always interpreted as a vote for his opponent. And even though you may be voting for the lesser of two evils, the lesser of two evils is still evil. It amounts to giving the candidate a tacit mandate to impose his will on society. https://internationalman.com/articles/5-reasons-not-to-vote/

The Book of Daniel has the following:

17 ‘This decision is by the decree of the watchers, And the sentence by the word of the holy ones, In order that the living may know That the Most High rules in the kingdom of men, Gives it to whomever He will, And sets over it the lowest of men.’ (Daniel 4:17)

There are elections taking place in something like 50 countries this year, as well as for those of the Parliament for the European Union. But we know that we should pray for our leaders (1 Timothy 2:1-3), and God will decide who they should be.

After I gave reasons why we in the Continuing Church of God do not vote in the Letter to the Brethren: January 25, 2024, one man pointed to a couple of portions of the Bible which he felt supported voting.

So, let’s look at some.

Notice the following:

13 Choose wise, understanding, and knowledgeable men from among your tribes, and I will make them heads over you. (Deuteronomy 1:13)

God had the nation of the children of Israel choose wise understanding men from their tribes, and He said He would make them leaders. Probably no one that is on the ballot anywhere is a “wise, understanding, and knowledgeable” man and few would even be from the same tribe in places like the USA. So, no that is not an endorsement for modern voting.

Notice also the following:

14 When you come to the land which the Lord your God is giving you, and possess it and dwell in it, and say, ‘I will set a king over me like all the nations that are around me,’ 15 you shall surely set a king over you whom the Lord your God chooses; one from among your brethren you shall set as king over you; you may not set a foreigner over you, who is not your brother. (Deuteronomy 17:14-15)

Now that seemingly suggests the people pick the top leader. But there are at least two issues which show that was not really the case:

The Bible shows that God says by asking for a king, the children of Israel rejected Him ruling over them per 1 Samuel 8:6-7.

God, Himself, directly chose the first kings of Israel (1 Samuel 9:15-17; 1 Samuel 16:1-13), so this was not a voting election by the people.

Another issue here was the the children of Israel were supposed to be God’s people with His laws and function as a physical nation. No nation currently on the earth makes any serious effort to function according to the laws of the God of the Bible.

Of course, the Bible shows that Christians are different from those of the world:

9 But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light; (1 Peter 2:9)

Furthermore, Jesus said:

11 Now I am no longer in the world, but these are in the world, and I come to You. Holy Father, … 14I have given them Your word; and the world has hated them because they are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. .. 16 They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. (John 17:11,14,16)

Brethren, we are not to be of this world or its politics.

Let’s look at some of what the scriptures teach are to be traits of godly leaders:

19 Listen now to my voice; I will give you counsel, and God will be with you: Stand before God for the people, so that you may bring the difficulties to God. 20 And you shall teach them the statutes and the laws, and show them the way in which they must walk and the work they must do. 21 Moreover you shall select from all the people able men, such as fear God, men of truth, hating covetousness; and place such over them to be rulers of thousands, rulers of hundreds, rulers of fifties, and rulers of tens. (Exodus 18:19-21)

2 “The Spirit of the Lord spoke by me, And His word was on my tongue. 3 The God of Israel said, The Rock of Israel spoke to me: ‘He who rules over men must be just, Ruling in the fear of God. (2 Samuel 23:2-3)

Few, if any, politicians truly endorse His laws and statutes, do not possess covetousness, and rule in the fear of the true God. Hence they are not people that Christians should endorse.

Understand, in the case of the USA for example, that the two leading candidates are evil and promote various aspects of evil–we even did a video about them nearly four years ago: Biden, Trump, and the Bible.

Understand that political divisions among Christians can “cause disputes rather than godly edification” (1 Timothy 1:4), hence they tend to be truly unprofitable.

Related to voting and other aspects of this world’s systems, here is something from the Statement of Beliefs of the Continuing Church of God:

NOT OF THIS WORLD

Jesus taught, “My kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:36). Early Christians understood “the gospel of peace” (Romans 10:15; Ephesians 6:15) prohibited them from engaging in violent military behavior. John the Baptist taught, “Do violence to no man” (Luke 3:14, KJV). Historically, those of the Church of God have considered military service as wrong for its members. From Revolutionary War times to the Civil War and to present, countries like the United States have tended to have had provisions to exempt Church of God members and congregants from military participation because of conscientious objections. Early Christians did not participate in military warfare nor watch violent sports.

The Apostle Paul taught “we are ambassadors for Christ” (2 Corinthians 5:20; Ephesians 6:20; see also Christians: Ambassadors for the Kingdom of God, Biblical instructions on living as a Christian). The Apostle Peter taught that God’s people were “a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out” (1 Peter 2:9). The Bible also teaches that this world has been deceived by Satan the devil (Revelation 12:9) and that God’s people need to be separate from the world (John 15:19; 2 Corinthians 6:14-18; James 4:4; Revelation 18:4). Since a Christian is God’s ambassador and this responsibility is our duty above any arising from human relationships (Matthew 10:37; Acts 4:18-20; 5:26-31), it is our normal religious practice to not participate in voting for national elections nor participate in jury duty, nor do we voluntarily join the military. Historically, the faithful Church of God has long taught that its members should not participate in secular juries and secular politics.

However, Christians are expected to listen to (1 Peter 2:13-17) and pray for (1 Timothy 2:1-3) governmental authorities and to pay their taxes (Matthew 22:17-21). Yet, if there is a conflict between the laws of men and the laws of God, “We must obey God rather than any human authority” (Acts 5:29, NLT).

As far as church governance is concerned, consider reading the article: The Bible, Peter, Paul, John, Polycarp, Herbert W. Armstrong, Roderick C. Meredith, and Bob Thiel on Church Government.

Of course, many professing Christians believe that they need to vote even though that concept is not endorsed in the Bible. But notice two concepts that are:

20 Woe to those who call evil good, and good evil (Isaiah 5:20).

2 You shall not follow a crowd to do evil; (Exodus 23:2)

The “lesser of two evils” is still evil.

Let’s not follow not follow a crowd to vote for evil.

Instead, we look forward to the coming Kingdom of God–and we are to pray for it to come. Unlike voting, that is something that Jesus enjoined on Christians (Matthew 6:10).

More on voting can be found in the article: Should a Christian Vote?

There is also a video of related interest titled: Should Christians Vote?

Destruction is coming to the USA–as well as its British-descended allies (UK, Australia, Canada, New Zealand)–and it will be worse than most people will believe–no matter who anyone will vote for.

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windvexer · 3 years ago

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Understanding Magic: Divination Before Spellwork

This post is part of a series of animistic, spirit-oriented spellcasting for beginners. Go to the masterpost to see them all.

This post is a part of a series I’m writing on specifically developing the skillset of practical magic. This post is not applicable to all witches or most styles of personal, spiritual witchcraft. Take what you please from it and leave the rest behind.

Any practical witch ought to have at least one serviceable oracle under their command, I believe. It is one of the handiest tools in the witch’s toolbox, and one which should often be employed in matters of practical magic.

Your oracle may be anything you desire: a collection of charms with which to cast lots, a deck of cards (playing cards and Lenormand are often found to be very practical for these purposes, but tarot will also serve), runes, and so on. This post uses tarot for examples as it’s all I have on hand.

Divination will serve your practical magic purposes in two primary ways:

It will provide insight and information into situations as they progress, so that your ongoing actions are more suitable to assist in reaching your goals, and,

It will provide excellent feedback and guidance as to the construction and deployment of your spells.

If you are unsatisfied with the results of your spellcasting, and you do not already divine upon your spellwork beforehand, this is perhaps the single greatest step you can begin employing immediately for improved results.

Let’s get to it.

Your spellwork might be failing because you lack true insight into the situation, and divination is going to help remedy that.

Suppose there’s been a lot of anger and fighting in your household lately. You’re newer to witchcraft, perhaps, and don’t have much in the way of psychic senses – but you know that this is a problem you can tackle!

You cast a spell to bring peace into your home. It doesn’t work.

You cast a spell to bind the words of the angriest person in your household. In the next argument, they fume silently before smashing a dish on the floor. Obviously, an unwanted outcome.

You cast a spell to banish that angry person. They lose their job, can’t pay rent, and the last you heard they’re couch surfing in Los Angeles. A… not great outcome for them, of course, but your household is looking –

Oh wait, now someone else is becoming angry and aggressive just like the house mate you evicted. What is happening? Why are these spells not succeeding?

Some investigation with divination might have told you that the reason all of this is happening is that a household spirit got extremely offended during a party a few months ago when someone wiped a booger on its devotional offering tray, and now it’s retaliating until someone apologizes to it.

This all might have been solved as soon as it began, and with much less effort, if you knew what was actually going on.

Yes, many times, simple spells often resolve situations, even complex ones! Truly sometimes all we need is a “peace in home” candle and that is going to go a long way towards resolving problems.

But there’s no fun in things being so easy all the time :) If reality is resistant to your spellwork, it could be that you are bringing a screwdriver to a hacksaw job.

Divination can help you make the right choices

Alright, so let’s back up. Now let’s say, for the purposes of this thought exercise, that there is no angry household spirit and every single option we have is actually going to completely bring peace to the household:

We can banish the angry person who is causing arguments.

We can brew calming tea and give it to everyone (with their consent; they love having a witch for a room mate).

Or… let’s say we can open all the doors and windows, play cheerful music, and have a fun afternoon cleaning with our room mates, with special magical actions taken to fully cleanse the apartment.

These all seem fine to me. On face value they all solve the problem. But let’s take a look at some things divination might reveal:

Banish angry person (hidden side-effect: they lose their job and are evicted and become homeless)

Brew calming tea for everyone (hidden side-effect: everyone has such a great afternoon of friendship and togetherness that beautiful bonds are forged between all of you)

Deep-clean apartment (hidden side-effect: combining a couple hours of cleaning with prolonged magical exertion leaves you exhausted for the next two weeks)

Well, thanks to divination, I now know which option I’m choosing! I’m banishing that f*cker, I hate that guy, and I don’t care for the rest of my roommates either; they can suck it. I’d hate to be close to them.

Just because a spell will get the job done, doesn’t mean you would choose it if you knew everything else it will cause.

Three Approaches to Divination: Insight, Situation-First, and Spell-First

I generally believe that a witch should strive to avoid letting situations get into a disaster zone. By the time you say, “oh my god, I have to do something, this is getting out of hand,” it’s probably at least a few weeks after you should have cast your first spell about it (though admittedly, this is much easier said than done).

A witch interested in mastering their own life with practical magic would be well-served to consider a variety of techniques to stay on top of situations.

Such methods include:

Journaling with a specific focus to identify life situations which could use a little supportive nudge in the right situation.

A small chat-group of like-minded witches, who get together regularly for feedback, can provide a wonderful opportunity to bounce “should I spell on this?” ideas off of one-another.

Make friends with another diviner or three, so that you can all trade readings on situations for each other and provide the more balanced input distance can provide.

(It is especially useful to be aware that when you and another reader exchange readings often, it becomes easier and easier for their readings to be influenced by your own emotions and their personal perceptions of you.)

Another method, of course, is through divination to gain insight into various life situations, before they become emergencies:

Insight

By regularly drawing spreads to monitor your life situation, or situations which concern you, you may be able to head off situations long before they become emergency-level.

I encourage you to find balance in any such technique if you do employ it: a huge spread, once a week, is likely suffocating for the average person. Three cards once a month likely provides too little information to be serviceable (although far be it from me to judge what you and your divination styles require).

Useful sorts of spreads are those that place you as a spider in the middle of its web: looking out over your domain and feeling for reverberations you might like to investigate further. Such spreads will give you an overview of various areas of your life.

Think of any system which attempts to divide up every aspect of existence into a small number of categories. The twelve houses of the zodiac and the four western elements are two examples. Or, choose various categories of your life you want to monitor and draw a card for each.

If any card kicks up a troubling-looking issue, or something you’d like to nip in the bud, or influence, or anything at all – you may like to draw a second, more in-depth spread to discover what exactly is going on.

I would caution you, if you don’t mind being cautioned, to not go down a divinatory rabbit hole. It is my experience that situations can only bear so much divinatory weight before they fray and your oracle can no longer work upon them. It’s like a thin piece of paper with too much paint applied – the paper will get warped, then tear through. If you read on the exact same situation 5 times in a row with 3 different spreads, you might start to get some very bizarre answers.

Situation-First

Suppose I’ve determined it’s time to cast a spell to modify a situation to my satisfaction. One very useful way of approaching it is to state my desired outcome and everything I do not want to occur as a side-effect, then ask my oracle what kind of magic I should work in order to get there.

This method is extremely handy when you don’t want to risk stupid shit happening.

Y’all know the big bad boogeyman of witchcraft, Unintended Consequences? Well, a divination a day keeps the consequences at bay.

“Hey oracle, how do I get Becky to leave my department alone without having anything bad happen to her or my company?”

And then there you go, read the results.

The downside to this method is that it usually gives you really practical, wise advise, which rarely turns out to be “fuckin hex ‘em like you wanted, turn up the heat and watch the pot boil,” and that’s just emotionally disappointing.

The upside is that this is a really amazing exercise to help you think about magic differently and in a more expansive mindset. Even if you don’t take the oracle’s advice, it’s still a handy studying technique.

Spell-First

Perhaps there is a sort of spell I really want to try out. Maybe what I want to do is develop my own personal grimoire, and have spells ready when situations arise. For whatever reason, instead of starting with the situation and asking my oracle “how do I solve this?”, I’m going to start with a spell and ask my oracle “how will this turn out?”

What I like to do for these situations is to write out a spell exactly as I intend to cast it, and then ask my oracle for the effects. I like to do a four-card spread: Current Events, Initial Manifestation/Development, Outcome, Side-Effects/Unintended Consequences.

And oh boy, does my oracle think poorly of most of the spells I cook up.

I have to say friends, I am very glad that I have divined on the outcome of many a spell before I cast it, because good lord.

Good lord.

Now of course, any time you’re wanting to work with your own personally-written spells, you’re going to have to cast them a few times to experiment with them and see how you like it. But divination sure can cut out a heck of a lot of trial and error.

One thing that I have personally found is that starting with spell concepts and slowly building upon them is way less tedious and frustrating than starting with fully developed spells and slowly tearing them down and then building them back up.

In other words, “what’s the outcome of this amethyst-based sleeping spell I have in mind?” is going to be a better place for me to start than, “I wrote a spell that uses amethyst, a full invocation, thirteen herbs, and astrological phases: how’s it going to go?”

It’s also a really useful technique for spellcrafting: you can ask your oracle to suggest the next component for your spell, or ask it the outcome between 3 individual components you’re considering, etc.

Divination before every single act of magic is probably overkill, however.

I’m not going to pull a card before I stir some enthusiasm and energy into my morning coffee (although an exercise about doing exactly this is linked below). I’m not going to divine before I do a home cleansing. I’m not going to use an oracle before I cast a spell I’ve cast 15 times before and the effects of which I’m extremely familiar with.

And despite my lauding of its virtues, I rarely perform divination to monitor my home life for troubles before they get serious (it’s either that or have time to write these huge posts, I can’t do it all).

Certainly do not allow this post to make you feel that you must divine before every act of magic or you’re not a good practical witch. Nonsense to that, I say.

And certainly do not be made to feel that as a witch, you must spend all this precious time and energy to militantly sniff out any potential little issue or problem to magic upon.

Rather, this post strives to do two things:

Give you a toolset to use if you constantly find yourself chasing after situations that have already gone too far, and,

Assist you with resolving difficult or delicate situations.

If neither of these things particularly apply to you, toss this post in the filing cabinet and pull it out if you need it later; or disregard it altogether.

What about talking to your guiding spirits?

Listen, I know this is a post series on "animistic, spirit-oriented spellcasting." But here's the thing:

Recognizing and honoring spirits, and inviting & paying for their help, is not the same thing as being able to speak to spirits or being able to acquire or meet spirit guides.

This isn't a spirit-working series. Whenever we get to the practical magic part, it's going to be so practical and spirit-oriented it's going to be bonkers. You'll be like woah, yeah, this is about spirits for sure.

But just because it's about them, doesn't mean people have to be able to commune with them in a two-way conversation.

So yes, if you are able to speak to gods, ancestors, and/or spirits and you can just call on them and ask for their input and advice, definitely do so! (Although knowing how the spirit world can be, they might tell you to pull out your oracle and figure it out yourself!)

Extra Links

Divination and Spellcasting: An Exercise, and Tarot DLC

Super Easy Tarot Tips

Did you know you don’t have to use the entire tarot deck for every reading?

This post is part of a series of animistic, spirit-oriented spellcasting for beginners. Go to the masterpost to see them all.

#craft and cast practical magic #witchcraft #witchblr #witchcraft 101 #witch tips #book of shadows #grimoire #witches of tumblr #divination #tarotblr #cartomancy #tarot

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pookiepoodle · 3 years ago

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“I choose you”

This is my submission for the Underrated Characters Collab, hosted by the lovely @meiansmistress

Nishinoya Yuu x Reader

WC: 2k

Warnings: Smut

You stared at the full-length mirror leaning against your boyfriend’s bedroom wall, still unable to recognise the girl reflected back.

The girl (who was you, duh) in a sexy pikachu costume.

Nishinoya had practically begged for you to come to a party one of his old high school friend’s was hosting and being a bored college student, you had been eager to agree, much to Yuu’s relief. Until he revealed his costume plans, which immediately had you rejecting the offer. You’d turned back to the next level of Candy Crush on your phone, knowing that your dignity was far more important than the party. But Yuu wasn’t going to give up so easily, pushing against your arm so that you had to pause the game, giving him the look that said “You have 10 seconds to try to change my mind.”

“Baby, please, you’re gonna look so sexy!” Yuu begged, pulling out his phone which he turned to you, showing you the costume once more, as if seeing it again would magically change your mind.

“Noya, it’s so tacky!” you groaned, rolling your eyes as you sank back into the comfy couch,” Come on, can’t I just throw on some cat ears and do eyeliner whiskers?”

“The idea of you in cat ears is pretty hot, but I already bought my costume,” Noya grinned, your face crumbling in defeat as you realised he’d won this battle when he showed you the Ash Ketchum costume he’d purchased. You could have been a bitch and just said no, but what if some other girl came along and wanted to be “captured” by your man? Plus, the thought of Yuu being upset was heartbreaking and you knew that this meant a lot to him.

Not to mention you could totally pull this on him if you wanted to pick the next movie or restaurant.

“If I do this, I want unlimited access to the baby albums,” you countered, meeting his eyes with a determined gaze, unwilling to let him get away with a total victory. Given how his grandfather had seemed to record every moment (yes, even the embarrassing ones) of Yuu’s childhood, those books were like precious gold, which your boyfriend protected with a determination you rarely saw. Noya seemed to pause, weighing up his options before sighing, making you grin.

“Deal, but you only get to take 5 pictures home,” Noya countered, holding out his hand.

Shaking it, you had a deal.

All it took was giving up your dignity.

…

“TANAKA!”

“NOYA!”

You rolled your eyes with a smile as your boyfriend rushed off to hug his friend, a flurry of chatter filling the room at the arrival of the old Guardian of Karasuno. The drive to Tanaka and Kiyoko’s house had been a quiet one, with you worried about tagging along. It had been ages since you’d seen the team and even at that, you were never as close to them as Noya was. Yuu had seemed to understand, letting the radio fill the silence. But now, as you watched your boyfriend fit in like a perfect piece of puzzle, you felt even more awkward and out of place. You’d been ready to find the kitchen - that was, until the eyes landed on you.

“Whoa! Y/N, you are looking good!” Tanaka yelled, his eyes drinking you in - only for him to yelp in pain as he received a less than friendly jab to the stomach from your boyfriend, who’d dropped the smile.

“Eyes off of her, bro, she’s mine!” Noya exclaimed, pouting at his best friend before realising that he was perhaps being a touch too aggressive; choosing to lighten up, he continued,” Plus, Kiyoko would kill ya if she knew you were drooling over my girl!”

“Whoa, no need for the threats, I was just being friendly,” Tanaka laughed, raising his hands up in surrender, though his eyes flicked back over to you as he continued,” but seriously, nice costume!”

“Thanks,” you smiled, your nerves easing as you turned to accept a drink from your old senpai, Daichi who had been eager to diffuse the situation (though he was more than grateful when it solved itself, given how he had to deal with such things for a living).

…

The rest of the evening seemed to fly by with plenty of dangerously mixed liquor-based concoctions and music. It had been a while since you’d seen the team but much to your surprise and relief, you fit back in with ease. Chatting away with the boys made you feel like you’d gone back in time, as though nothing had ever changed.

Perhaps things were going too well for your boyfriend’s liking as he gazed at you leaning against Suga’s side, laughing at something he’d said. It was a cute laugh too and he saw his Senpai’s eyes widen and sparkle at the sight. It was probably involuntarily - Suga was a good guy and would never try something on you - but you just had that effect on people and right now, Noya regretted asking you to wear such a revealing costume. It was when you leaned in to whisper something into the older man’s ear that made Yuu snap, his mouth opening before he could think.

“Babe, gotta show ya something!”

Your boyfriend’s request made you pull back from Suga, glancing over to make sure it was really Yuu. Indeed it was him and his bright smile and gestures to follow him were impossible to ignore.

“Coming!” you replied lightly, quickly turning to apologise to Suga before taking your leave to follow Noya down a dark hall,” What is it you wanted me to see-”

You were cut off as he caged you against the wall, the family photos rattling from the slam next to you, but you barely noticed. Quickly standing on his tippy toes to press his lips against yours, Noya felt the slow warming sense of reassurance wash over him. He’d just needed a small taste, just to remind himself that he was the only one who’d get to experience it. It wasn’t an unpleasant surprise at all but you quickly pushed him off you, unsure of what was happening.

“Noya, is everything okay?” you whispered, the thumping of the bass and the drunken laughter suddenly playing as background noise to the sexually charged atmosphere.

“No, it’s not,” he grumbled after a stunned moment, moving closer once more. You could feel his warm breath against your neck and then the shell of your ear as he continued,” but then again, watching my pretty girl flirt with my old senpai isn’t exactly a turn-on for me.”

“Suga? I wasn’t flirting, we were just chatting-”

“I know, but baby, look at you.” With that, Noya dragged you into the room closest which happened to be a bathroom. Locking the door, he was behind you in seconds, pressing you against the marble countertop which was cold against whatever skin remained exposed from your costume. But Noya didn’t care at that moment, he had more important things to worry about - like making sure you understood just how dangerous you were.

“Look at yourself, Y/N,” he whispered, his eyes focused on the mirror, waiting to see your eyes meet him in the reflection.

You knew better than to argue with Noya when he was in this sort of mood and you obeyed without question, raising your head to meet eyes with the girl in the mirror once more. You’d been expecting to feel embarrassed like earlier at his apartment, when you’d been so unsure of wearing the outfit in public. But you couldn’t have been more wrong.

You must have accidentally stretched out at some point because your zipper was slightly undone, revealing more cleavage than you were normally comfortable with. The hood’s adorable expression couldn’t rival your cute lips and doe-like eyes which seemed to sparkle under the bathroom lights. And god, the bottom of the suit clung to your hips and presumably your behind like its life depended on it. In short, you now understood just what was driving your boyfriend so wild.

“Oh,” you mumbled, your lips falling apart in a soft oh shape.

“Oh is right, sweetheart, you are so fucking pretty right now,” Noya chuckled, his hand slipping forward to grasp the zipper, teasingly tugging it down inch by inch to reveal bare skin, much to his delight, surprise and anger,” Fuck, baby, are you not wearing a bra?”

“I tried to, but the fabric was so thin, I kept getting weird lines,” you explained, but his mind was completely focused on the thought of you walking around in this skin-tight suit, your breasts jiggling freely in front of the boys. Had they noticed? Had they seen your pretty nipples perk up, straining against the suit? Would they touch themselves tonight, imagining themselves being the ones to unzip your suit?

“So beautiful and all mine, right?” he growled, desperate for your answer now as he met your eyes in the mirror. Yuu needed to hear that you were his, all his even if he knew you’d never cheat on him. His fingers now danced dangerously across the hem of your panties, impatiently waiting for your answer.

“Noya, I’ve always been yours, but we can’t,” you whispered, knowing it was pointless to even try to persuade him to wait but you continued,” what if someone needs to use the bathroom?”

“We’ll just have to make this quick then,” Noya retorted, his hands flying up to the shoulders of your costume. There was a wicked grin reflecting back at you in the mirror as he toyed with the straps before yanking the cheap nylon down to your ankles with little care for it. It was a cute costume, but what it hid was much cuter.

Attacking your neck with his mouth, Yuu’s fingers roughly shoved your panties aside, making him groan at the slick sensation coating his fingertips. You were so easy to please, it made him feel incredible at how easy it was to fuck you dumb. He liked to think that it was only for him though - that he was like the key to your lock. One of a kind in the ability to open you up, to see the real you.

Your boyfriend’s fingers pressing against your spongy walls made you melt against the counter, gripping the sink tightly as a safety precaution. Your little hole easily recognised his touch and gave him the warm, reassuring welcome he deserved and needed.

Soon, you could feel the knot in your stomach tensing as he fucked you with just his fingers, a lewd squelching sound filling the bathroom.

“Please, Yuu-”

“Cum.”

His words had a hypnotic effect on you, as though your body had been waiting for his approval. A loud cry was hopefully muffled by the music outside but you honestly couldn’t find it in yourself to care as you collapsed against the counter, letting the cool marble ease your flushed cheeks.

But you were far from done, your panties being ripped off and tossed to the side as Noya began to line himself up with you.

“Noya, wait-”

“Shh, baby, just enjoy it,” he mumbled, his eyes glued to the way your little hole fluttered against the tip of his cock and how you swallowed him up when he began to push into you.

“Cause we’re just getting started.”

And with that began the brutal pace you’d become accustomed to with Noya. Nothing was ever slow with him, unless he was purposefully trying to tease you. No, every moment with him was like lightning - fast and brilliant.

But even so, it was impossible to keep quiet, your cries filling the bathroom and slipping under the crack between the door and floor, into the party room where a few blushed, knowing exactly what was happening.

“You’re so tight, sweetie,” Yuu spat out, his teeth gritted in concentration as he absolutely destroyed you, trying not to cum before you,” Fuck, I’m not gonna last long, please tell me your close. Been on edge all night, thinking about you baby-”

“I-I’m close, Noya!” you interrupted breathlessly, your tight hole spasming around him as you came. Hearing your sweet climatic moans, your boyfriend gave into the pleasure, letting your walls milk his cock as he filled you to the brim with seed.

It took a few minutes to catch your breath, the mirror slightly fogged from the heated encounter but Noya’s next words were so-typically-him and made your mind shut down.

“I guess I choose you, Y/N.”

#underrated.collab #haikyuu x reader #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya yuu x reader #nishinoya smut #haikyuu smut

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k0ra-kumori · 4 years ago

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Jealous Batboys (DC Super Hero Girls 2019)

Hello, my name is Kora kumori and I'm Brazilian, so sorry if there are any grammatical errors in the story! (This story is based on dc super hero girls 2019)

word count ; 1602

pairings ; Batboys x reader

genre ; fluffy / Smut

warnings: contains adult content.

Dick Grayson

- You two were at a party, and there were two guys around you.

- my friend, he is very jealous.

- Dick may seem the most peaceful among his brothers, but don't be fooled.

- He will grab your waist tightly in front of the intruders.

- "Excuse me boys, I don't know if you know me but my name is Dick Grayson, I'm Bruce Wayne's son" Yes, that was a threat. It's almost as if dick wants to say "I'm very powerful, so don't mess with me or my girl."

- When he introduces himself, it usually keeps the intruders away, but this time not, this time the two men were not intimidated by the name "Dick Grayson" so dick moves on to the second stage.

- Dick whispers something in your ear and then gives you a kiss, then he leaves. You were confused.

- You were uncomfortable because the two men were still on your side, blocking your exit.

- Dick comes back after about 10 minutes, you wanted to hit him for taking so long.

- "You two are expelled." Dick said to the men, they were perplexed "You and bruce wayne run the city, not us. So why would we go out?", Dick gives a stupid smile "As you said, bruce wayne and I ran the city, and I bought it this club, and you are at my club in my town, so get out or i going to be forced to call the guards. "

- You were jaw-dropping and speechless, did he just buy a club so he could kick out the guys who flirted with you? Dick was really the most amazing guy in Gotham.

Jason Todd (18+)

- Okay, for Jason blood and jealousy mix very easily.

- You were in a bar, if dick saw that jason took you to a place like this, he would protest.

- You were there because the owner of the bar was none other than Artemis, so you could drink for free.

-Sometimes you forget that Jason is a vigilante, and unfortunately for him, there was a robbery across the street, Jason said he was going to solve it quickly and that he would be back soon, he kissed you goodbye.

"In the meantime, a man much older than you approached, and he was ... flirting with you?" That was disgusting.

- Jason has a sensor to know when they are flirting with you, because he showed up just in time.

- Jason took a glass of beer and drank, he hit the glass aggressively against the table when he finished.

- "Did you miss something in my girlfriend's breasts, you idiot?" Jason gripped his waist so tightly that it was scarred the next day.

- The man looked drunk, so he replied "Is this angel your girlfriend? You teenagers are idiots, you shouldn't be dating, so she should be dating an older guy--"

- That alone was enough to free the demon that Jason calls "rage" and it was all too fast, the man didn't even speak and Jason jumped on him, they were punching each other, kicking, everything to get hurt .

- You were so used to seeing Jason involved in bar fights that you didn't even care, in fact, you even like it when he gets involved in fights, because you know what happens after he finishes fighting.

- The fight lasted about 2 minutes, and as much as they tried, nobody could get Jason off the guy, and Artemis seemed more interested in cleaning cups than separating the fight.

- "I'll be right back, doll." Jason gave you a deep, hot kiss, very hot. He was angry and had just killed a drunk in front of everyone, he was dragging the man's body to the warehouse, you knew that in a few minutes he would have nothing but bones.

- Okay, he came back, and there he is, Jason todd all bloody, did you think it was weird that it took him less than 10 minutes, "Hey, but so fast?", Jason looked angrier than before, "He only had fat . " You were going to say something else, but Jason pulled your arm so fast that you didn't have time, you knew what happened when Jason got mad, and an angry and hungry jason resulted in things ... hot.

- he pulled you into the car, and threw you hard, you could already see the bulge between his legs, "Jason, yo--", Jason was horny, and was squeezing the steering wheel of the car, "I won't be able to wait until we get to the mansion, let's do it here.", " What?! We can't do it here, if a policeman catches us we'll be in trouble... "Jason shut you up with a kiss, he was now on top of you shirtless, showing his entire collection of scars, "I said we would do this here."

Tim Drake:

Tim is almost a robot, he feels emotions only inside, but shows nothing.

- You were in a coffee shop, Tim needed to finish a job.

- You were bored with watching him typing on his laptop, the coffe shop was empty and you could only hear the sound of the keys.

- "Coffee, can you get me another S / N?" You looked at Tim confusedly "You mean Y / N can you get me a coffee?", "That's what I said. Can you get it?" You were already getting worried about Tim, he hadn't slept for 3 days, it seems that being vigilant and a student is not easy.

- Well, you got up and went to get a coffee for your sleepy boyfriend for the 4th time, Tim like the biggest coffee, so you got the biggest one, and when you were going back to the table with Tim, a man unwittingly hits you, spilling all the coffee on your clothes.

- He seemed sorry, and apologized countless times, and somehow, those apologies turned into a conversation. You were enjoying chatting with your new best friend, until he asks "Do you have a boyfriend?", You loved Tim, and of course you replied that you did, and pointed to Tim.

- your friend wanted to forget that he asked this, so when you were going to talk again, "Hey Y / N." Tim came out of nowhere, the two of you jumped out of your seats, Tim had this Bizarre gift of being too silent.

- "Hi my love, let me introduce you to ..." Before you finished, tim completed his sentence, "Edward hanscom." Tim said coldly, "Yes! How did you know? I didn't even--" Tim interrupted you again, "I know a lot of things, and we better get going, I finished my job."

- "I-I think I'm leaving, Y / N, I'll see you the other day ..." Edward was about to walk out the door, when Dick came in, he was at work now (Officer) "Mr. Hanscom?" Edward nodded, "Y-yes it's me ...", "You're under arrest" and said, dick handcuffed edward and took him to the car to make sure he wouldn't run away, after doing that dick returned to the coffee shop.

- "Tim and S / N? How nice to see you here!", Tim just muttered something, and you waved happily at Dick, "I don't want to intrude but, why did you arrest him? I talked to him a few minutes ago." , "oh he? He was caught by cameras in a super market stealing food, I'm going to take him to the police station" you were worried about it, Edward didn't look like a criminal, so why was he being arrested?

- You thought for a moment and looked into the dick car, you found Jason inside. "D-dick, are you sure you are taking Edward to the police station? ...", "Certainly. Well, it was nice to talk to you but I better get back, I have work to do, see you soon, Tim and S / N! " Then he was gone, dick is gone.

- You left the coffee shop, you were going to the Wayne Mansion now "Edward was cool, it's a shame he is a criminal, and I'm not sure if Dick will take him to the police station I hope he will be fine ...", "he will be fine." You were a little uncomfortable with what happened a few minutes ago, so you took Tim's hand, "So, what were you working on, my little bird? You've been at it for two weeks" Tim looked at you "I was trying to locate a guy.", You were curious now, "A guy? You usually work with more important things than that, my love", Tim looked at you seriously" It was very important, that guy has spent 3 times looking at the butt of a guy's girlfriend, this is disrespectful.", you rolled your eyes, Tim gave too much detail, "Okay, so what was his name?", "Edward Hanscom."

- You were in shock, he spent 2 weeks locating that guy who came to flirted to you at the Coffee shop?!, "You idiot! Dick is going to give Edward as food for Jason!" You pushed Tim lightly, he was now laughing "Dick knows how to control that beast, besides, that Edward guy looked at your ass!", "You are an idiot Tim, you sent the guy to prison!" Tim now hugged you, "Relax, i will let him go tomorrow, that was just for him to learn not to look at the ass of others' girlfriend", you were silent, until you think of something to talk about "You know Tim, you can do it be bizarre and scary at the same time, but I love y--" for the thousandth time, Tim interrupted you "I love you too.", you started laughing now" You have to stop interrupting me! This is scary you silly!"

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cinnamonest · 3 years ago

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Rewriting my Diluc housewife thoughts but I saved it in my notes this time, but I made it infinitely more sexist than it already was before bc 1) I was in the kink mood and 2) the spirits of writing gods possessed my body and told me that is the way all Diluc content should be, so, this is major 1950s-ish housewifey horrendously misogynistic shit, you've been warned. Like, even *I* looked back over this and was like "wow this is vile" which is kinda saying something for me so, putting the nastier parts under cut for the sake of my followers' eyes ----------- I was thinking about the post a while back about Diluc reforming a criminal darling - a thief around Mondstadt that's been on a crime spree and of course he catches wind of that and goes to defeat the perpetrator (surprisingly very easy? How is a thief this weak?) and haul the bastard off to jail except... What's this? Said criminal is actually just some girl and not a gross ugly bastard?? This changes things. Clearly, this was not an intentional act of malice or greed, but rather, he, master of criminal psychology™, rationalizes that the world is far too cruel for unwifed girls that have no one to depend on, a cold terrible place, so you must have been driven to these actions out of desperation. You had no provider, no caretaker, which are needs. How could you possibly be expected to provide a means of living for yourself?? This is just the consequences of the unfairness of the world. However, things all work out in the end. You need to be taken care of and restrained from these self-destructive choices by force (since you cannot recognize how bad it is, not that you're expected to, it's natural that you have poor perception, that's why you need a man to make choices for you), and he needs a wife. This solution benefits all parties.

He is, however, a rather dense man, and doesn't really think to like, tell you that. Or tell you anything. He's too lost in thought in his planning -- gonna get you new clothes to replace your ragged ones, gonna have to rearrange the guard schedule so they can watch the house better, all that -- and just kinda slings you up and over his shoulder without a word. Ignores you kicking and hitting because it doesn't really hurt or anything, you're too weak for that. Just says he’ll explain in detail later, but don’t worry, you’re not going to jail. He’s just taking you home. This is better, he says. Stop struggling so much, what, you want to go to jail? No? Then be still. And you don't recognize that it's good for you yet, but again, that's expected. In a better time or society, you would have been married off sooner, and prevented from ever falling victim to your own decision making to begin with, but the world isn't perfect and you can be forgiven for it. You're not responsible for your own actions since you can't comprehend them. It's frustrating and he sighs a bit over it, but that's just the way things are. You'll be happy in the long run, even if it takes a while, you're naturally programmed for a better lifestyle he has in mind. And, really, he's glad you weren't married off, because if you were then he never would have had you, so even though it was technically unideal, the stars align and the universe works out things perfectly. It's all the more of a sign that this was fate and you were made for him. The issue is that a hardened criminal darling is... Not the ideal candidate for a housewife. To some extent, he's right that the criminal underworld hardens a person, you can't survive in that realm if you're submissive or weak willed. And criminal darling certainly is not. Loud mouthed, opinionated, argumentative, bad attitude, defiant and aggressive and very much unafraid. A complete loose cannon. All very unfavorable traits. Worst of all, very much unaccepting of and ungrateful for the privilege of a second chance and being graciously granted the opportunity for a better life. Lots of bad behaviors.

The cursing is a problem. It's not very... Wife-like. Gives off a bad image, you know. Especially since said cursing is usually directed at him at a very loud volume with a snarl and getting all up in his face to tell him he's fucking insane and a bastard. To be honest, the worst part isn't the words themselves, it's the fact that you are so unafraid to be defiant and so fiery that is the primary issue. You disobey very deliberately. Little acts of pettiness. Being mean to the maids who are so graciously trying to teach you how to cook (at his direction), since you had no idea how to (and nearly burned his house down as a result). The first time you were mean and bitter and that's how you learned they report back to him about how you behaved. It did not go over well.

Intentionally burning food. Once you somehow found a bottle in a cabinet somewhere in the mansion and put rat poison in his food, made him sick. Muttering a sarcastic whoops and shoving a vase off to crash and shatter on the floor. Early on you refused to wear all the nice dresses you were generously given and even tried to go through his clothes to find something to wear, which was kinda cute since it was way too big, but still. You mutter and grumble under your breath every time you're given a command. The most important thing is sex, though. You know, your job. One of your only real responsibilities. He has a very stressful job. It's only reasonable that he can expect to come home to his sweet, loving little wife with open arms and equally open legs. You've probably fucked around a bit right? For money, for favors, for intel, you get the idea, lots of ties to criminal gangs to earn their trust. So, if you do it for something so insignificant, how much more does he deserve it for taking care of you fully? You should -- and you will, with time -- drop to your knees the second he walks through the door. But instead, sigh, you fight and whimper and cover your face in shame after you spasm and cum, and worst of all, you actively try not to cum. You shouldn't feel ashamed of that, it's good, he says. Sure, you may not be officially married (since the laws of Mondstadt unfortunately require that whole "consent" thing for both parties, ugh), but, he's basically your husband right? So, it's perfectly normal, you're supposed to cum for him. Maybe once you're all knocked up you'll be even hornier, and less shameful. He actually wasn't expecting you to be this bad. Incredibly stubborn and prideful. Literally the exact opposite traits of a good wife, you know, submissive and humble and obedient. He kinda thought that it was like... automatic. That once he just kinda shoved you in the right environment, it would be like flipping a switch right? Apparently not. But no matter. It can be changed, with effort and time. You're worth it. See, you're not supposed to backtalk him, you're supposed to smile and do what you're told without question. You're supposed to submit and obey, and instead you seem hellbent on pissing him off out of spite - and frankly, you're doing a good job of achieving that. Every time you defy him it sparks an irritation he can't describe, worse than he'd normally get from just being snarled at by anyone - no, something about being disrespected by someone he feels is beneath him makes him much, much angrier than it would be if it were, say, one of the business partners who get snappy and argumentative very frequently. He could break you and it would be easy, don't you know that? You stomp and you hit him and you yell, but clearly you process that you have to look up to look him in the eye, you have to realize how much smaller you are. You hit him even though you have to know by now he'll just grab your wrists, and like always you'll be unable to even hope of pulling out of his grip, the strength difference between you two is so great. There's no way you don't realize all that, yet you continue to behave the way you do. The inferiority is so blatantly obvious, but you act as if it's not. He spends a lot of time contemplating the source of this, the cause of your behavior, it occupies his thoughts. It's like... You resent him for something. Could it possibly be kidnapping you and keeping you as a glorified sex slave? No, no, that's not it. It's something else, yes. Are you just bitter about being inferior in, you know, every conceivable way? Is that it? The criminality for you was compensation to make you feel powerful, perhaps. You have a complex. You resent him not for anything he's done, but because you know he's stronger and smarter and generally superior to you. You don't want to accept it. You're prideful when you shouldn't be. You're supposed to be humble and content with your inferiority. Yeah, that's it. You just have a negative perception of the lifestyle you're supposed to have. Maybe some event in your life or someone else warped your view of things. You don't realize how happy you'd be if you just accepted it. Yes, if you submitted to it, if you swallowed your pride and actually accepted your place, you'd find you would be very happy, you just don't know that. Or maybe, your brain can't grasp something like that. After all, that's the reason you're supposed to be the submissive party of the two of you, you're not as bright or perceptive (says the densest man alive). You have to be... Led. Guided. So he says it. He is, again, a dense man. He does not really think about the fact that perhaps blatantly confronting you with the epiphany he thinks he's had and specifically using the words inferior and weak and small is probably not going to make you very happy. You get bitchy and bratty and try to hit him and he sighs because, see, this is exactly what he's talking about. You reacting the way you did only confirms you do have a complex, he says. So, how could he go about... reconditioning? He is not the most creative man, but thankfully it's a rather easy problem to solve. If you're reminded of a reality often enough, you have to accept it. For starters, using physical strength against you. Maybe that will metaphorically open your eyes. Holds you down in place when you're hitting him like you do, firmly bending you over a counter or whatever and just holding you in place. Come on, try to get up, try to push him off. You snarl and claw at the marble and push will all your strength, but he doesn't budge, not until you politely apologize and ask him to let you up. If you're being difficult and not going where he tells you to, well, he can just sling you up over his shoulder and carry you. If you're fighting being fucked he can just flip you over and press your face into the mattress and hold you still, and you can't help but take the brutal reality that you're basically a ragdoll to him, that is, physically overpowering you doesn't even require trying. It helps to knock you down a peg, remind you of your place and maybe get you to swallow that pride a bit. The orgasms and fucking have a similar effect -- every time you can't help but feel like he has a power over you. And really, he kinda does. Every time you lay there still panting and shivering in aftershock, the shame comes swarming in, all the obscene noises you made and the way you came undone under the person that treats you like property. Even if the rational part of you knows better, you can't help but feel like in a way it's like you let him win, allowed yourself to more or less prove him right. Maybe you'll learn better if you're in more humiliating positions. Stuck getting rammed from behind, hand forcing your face down and ass up. Actually correcting bad behaviors requires more direct approaches, so he takes the... Old fashioned route. After all, it's pretty much guaranteed to work. You don't listen to words, you don't listen to reason, but you'll certainly listen to handprints and belt welts on your ass. It's the first time you really, truly break, and that brings him a lot of satisfaction. The first time you really cry and whimper and beg and apologize so profusely it feels like you mean it for once. Granted, for a while you just persist in your bad behaviors and even try to run when you see him sigh and take the belt off, but you never get far. And, most notably, you actually fix your behaviors, with enough reminders. At one point, the next time you start being bad and get to bitching and snarling and putting up a fight, you catch the look on his face and, for once, you shut your mouth and look down and mumble an apology by default. See, you're learning. Speaking of, you still have that major issue with backtalking him. You're supposed to submit to him and acknowledge his authority over you. So he gets firm. Grabs you by the jaw and forces you to look him in the eye and reminds you that you will *not* get an attitude with him. You *will* show some respect. You say yes sir and no sir and do what you're told. And if you forget, he can give you a reminder, if you want that. But you shake your head with fear in your eyes, say you don't want that. It makes you mad. You want to lash back, but you swallow your pride and mutter a fine - before realizing the mistake, violating the rule you were just reminded of. You stammer out a yes sir but it's already too late. He has to control himself too, not let his anger get the better of him. He speaks in a way that isn't snarling and mean, but rather firm, cold, a flat tone that asserts dominance and demands respect. But... still wants you to like him. So he has to be nice, too. After all, you'll learn better if you're rewarded for being good, right? So you can get little rewards. Words of affirmation. A pat to the head. He'll buy you something you want, let you drink a bit (since, as a thief, of course, you had a problem with that before you came home, but that had to be corrected too, since drunkenness isn't very befitting). And sooner or later he does have a really good little wife. He's proud of you. You smile and obey commands without complaining. He can come home every day, and rather than hearing a long report from the staff about how much trouble you caused that day, instead you have food and smiles and sweet affection waiting on him, you hug him when he walks through the door. You're polite and sweet to the various business partners and guests that come through -- you don't speak to them without permission though, of course, and you look down at the ground so you don't make eye contact with another man. People say he's lucky and how they wish they had a wife that was so outwardly affectionate to them as you are to him, always clinging to him physically. And you don't complain or every object to anything, you just smile and say yes and do it. It makes him happy in a weird way he can't quite articulate. A warm swell of pride, a feeling of success. You have vague memories of a time when you were breaking into houses just to scrape by, not knowing when you'd eat next, not knowing where you'd sleep. It's kind of a fuzzy memory now. You don't have to worry about those things anymore, and you're a lot happier this way.

#this is vile im sorry #tw: ff #tw: misogyny #.dl #yan.txt #q

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aeempress · 4 years ago

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Apritello Express Evidences, part 1

Greetings, Apritello enthusiasts and attention! Here comes a loong post is written by totally nerd. You've been warned. Here we go.

The thing is that Apritello is a double-edged sword. The series shows us established friendship of these two, give us a lot of content with them. We can see development of relationship through interaction between the characters, their reaction about the situations they are put in. We can sense their synergy and bound through the show.

Donnie and April have incredible chemistry, and both options, brotp and otp seems fine to me.

But let me tell you why I ship them.

Apritello is the kind of pairings, which consists of small details, hints, that's hidden, but if you're sharp and attentive one, you will notice that. Apritello has a strong foundation: the best friends trope.

And from the very beginning, it works as planned.

When I start watching show, I could say that April and Donnie are best friends. It is worth noting that April is like an older sister to the other brothers, more of a sisterly figure than a friend, but with Donnie she behaves somewhat differently, namely, as best friend. Obviously, she sets him apart from his brothers, although girl tries to pay attention to all of them equally. And Donnie behaves as well.

Dee's battle shell designs for April needs as well as his. His shell transform into comfy spot for taking ride for April. Special and only for her. Because his bros are not supposed to use it (at least, he carries no one on his back), Donnie carries them by his techno-bó or his limbs.

This tiny detail shows his special treatment to her. April is a very, very special occasion to D. Don does care about her comfort, he accept the way she is. Donatello does not try to prevent her from participating in their affairs because he respects her decisions and is pleased that April can be shoulder to shoulder with him.

D is glad to be at her service.

Yeah, Dee's still playing cool, he has image to perform as tough and coolheaded guy. So Don doesn't show his intentions, interest and feeling to other people (he's tryin', but fails). Because his actions matter. They are always small, hidden, but meaningful.

April, in return, trusts Dee and depends on his tech, even knowing what his inventions are the opposite of success (usually).

Go on. Look at Donnie's facial expressions and body language when April is near.

Donnie seems more relaxed when she's around, happier. His emotional response is always different from his brothers ones.

Oh, and look, he wanted to be first to give her a high three.

They worry about each other. Look at Don. He does worry about her way more than his brothers. Yeah, they all want to protect her, but Donnie is more expressive.

Mayham has no particular sympathy for the brothers: he is afraid of Raph and behaves aggressively, he is indifferent to Leo and Mikey. Mayham immediately takes a liking to April. And then the details come back: he let Donnie touch his neck. The most vulnerable place for any living creation, for a second. Let him to study an important vial without any hesitation. Mayham depends on April trust for Donnie. When everything goes wrong for Don, the little doggie comes to his rescue, just as April would have done. Is the hint transparent enough?

We can see links with "A mystic library", wherе Donnie begins to look for solutions to save April's pet. Yes, this may seem like his next leap, "sit down, I'm smart, and now I'll solve all the problems, watch and learn," but Don says one phrase that opens up the veil of the second plan, what happens behind the scenes. "My illiteral colleagues and I was conducting a mustic research, with a life of the beloved pet, hanging in a bounce".

Strange wording, Donatello. Beloved pet? Not yours, as we can see. I can say, that everything in this sentence is true, but Donnie and Mayham has something more.

Continue. Next episode "Origami tsunami". Interactions are kept to a minimum, as April herself appears for a maximum of 5 minutes in the series itself. But devil is always in the details, dear friends.

When April was attacked and hung up, the only one who excitedly called out to her was Donny. Raph is furious that the thieves have escaped, Leo is frustrated that their plan has failed, and Mikey is worried about the salami.

Yeah, we didn't see his worries about her when she fell, because Donnie is on the mission and must be coolheaded turtle, and second, he's calm because now April life is safe and sound, out of the danger.

Dear passangers, Apritello Express arrives to the next station - episode "War and Pizza".

Bare facts:

1. April has Donnie's number on an emergency call.

2. "Anything for you"

3. Donnie is the reason why Alberto knows April's name.

No one calles April by her name (except for Donnie, while phone call, but Alberto wasn't nearby) it was "Captain O'Neil" by her chief, her badge seems blank. And yeah, you can say, that's just economy of budget, but I assure you: in the first episode we were shown the name of the delivery guy. The animators were not lazy bones and wrore "Stewart" on his badge. So if something isn't there, then it either shouldn't be there, or it really isn't, that's how this show works.

So, the reason explained in the episode. When Al has short circuit, parts of its new code flashed through its mind.

Info about April was in its memory, in its code. Alberto was a lame animatronic, and it seems somewhat outdated. I do really doubt about Alberto is being something smartass machine with complicated AI like Freddy's Pizza's ones. Quite questionable. Donatello fix Al's brain and wrote code, synchronize with his remote control. He put information about Cap O'Neil into animatronic's head. All this pictures are kind of massage: "You was created for birthday celebrations. You are machine, and there concepts of "life" and "birth". Do great party for this birthday kid and April won't be like this". Or, something like that.

So Alberto did - do a memorable party. And he do what his creator programmed him to do, but in his way.

4. In other words, Alberto was a tool to impress April. Don flaunts himself in front of her, stating how he did the upgrade while doing the upgrade, even though April is fully aware of his tech wizard. And his abilities supposed to help Cap O'Neil to finish the birthday party, so she will stay at her job, not fired. All thanks to Donnie and his upgrade Alberto. (Or not)

By the way, Donnie was the last to leave April in ruined "Alberto's". And it's not an isolated case, it is a pattern.

5. They understand each other without words.

First, Donny came at her at the speed of light. Second, she hadn't even finished speaking before Dee was taking Al apart. Third, their chaotic, well-coordinated work? Donnie was a distraction (although he wanted to just take a break from the battle or let Alberto's guard down, while April just knocked him out). Donnie and April are great team, and sometimes the DonniexApril team is much more precise, coordinated, and interdependent than the DonniexBrothers one.

D&A feel each other and anticipate each other's actions, their skills complement each other, creating an incredible synergy of their interaction. They act as a whole, while it's not always possible with his brothers, even though they're family and know each other the way more Donnie know April. And Dee hasn't trained with cap O'Neil.

Donatello didn't show his crush for April. No puppy, loving eyes, no lovey-dovey speeches, no planning schemes (at least, the audience don't see one) . He just want her attention, but stays cool and hidden. D is already her BFF, but still.

The same thing is claimed in 5B episode - Mascot Melee. Donnie has no problems with interaction with idol of his childhood - Atomic Lass. She'd put Leo in a stupor, but Donnie? He playfully challenges her to a dance duel. Yes, he adores this character, who may have become his measure of the attractiveness of others to Donatello, determined his type. But still, he's playing all cool and confident guy, he's really smooth with girls, so you will never see a puppy loving eyes from him. Only two things can betray him at this point: his voice and his body language. Remember, how's soft his voice became for Atomic Lass? Now I want you to remember the scene before, in turtle tank, when April sent guys a meme.

D is the first to respond to the message, despite the fact that Mikey is sitting closest to the screen. And the responding is a little too emotional for this situation, don't you think?

And this face of his. And he comments it. He likes her sense of humour.

The only difference between April and Atomic Lass is that the first one is a real girl who is a friend of their family, practically a member of it; and the other one is just a fictional character. It is easier to say about love for a fictional character, because it brings less problems for a teenager, especially when he is living with three brothers and a father who likes to tease as well. Donatello needs to be careful and outline the area of emotions he could show, so that he does not get hurt.

Now, dear passangers, we are returning to the previous episode, shall we?

Donnie presents to his brothers his precious Turtle tank, but she's gone, and it's really necessary to find out, who has taken her. And the first person to suspect is April.

Something is odd, don't you think? Yeah, Raphael has taken tyre for their "Midnight special", Leo claimed that Donnie's stuff is common, but they are D's beothers. It's natural for family to borrow(stole) stuff of each other. But this trend was not observed in April. She would never steal anything from Donnie, much less steal anything from him.

Actually, there is a good, logical and solid explanation here. April was number 1 in Donatello' suspect list, because he simply told her about Turtle tank. His brothers didn't know he were working at Moon buggy, except Mikey (Orange helps Dee get the vehicle from Repomantis), but they didn't know what exactly Donnie was working for. They didn't know he build the Turtle tank, he kept it a secret, to surprise his brothers. But April knew.

- Alright you! Where's our turtle tank?

- Hi, DONNIE. You have 9 seconds to say, why are you just broke my door.

- Someone's stole Donnie's turtle tank.

- Haha-ow, I see. As your best friend, you naturally suspect me.

- She gets it!

- Oh-ho, don't give me that! You're the only one could taken it!

The only one, because she knew about it.

As Splints said in this episode - "April is not a snitch"

Donatello does trust April and share with her both, sorrows and joys. But we are not shown this directly. We do not see the action itself, we do not see their calls and conversations on the phone late at night, we only see the consequence. We have no choice and take it as a given.

And the way she cooled him down? Fast, efficient, and Donnie seems to used to it. Moreover, she slapped everyone, but still, she throw Don out of window the last. However, why such a large time delay between him, being slapped and him, was throwing out of the window?

And my favourite scene. It was obvious that Donnie had taken the hardest hit (judging by his scream and the way he was putting his knuckles back in place). Don then claims that their inner circle is secure, Mikey tries to make amends for everyone, and April agrees, blowing them a kiss and closing the window. Cute and mean, isn't it? (You're cute! but mean! why do I always go for your type?! - ep. War and Pizza)

Nota bene: Donnie wouldn't apologize to April. Tough, not caring badass boy image, remember? Even to best friends. It's hard to him to express his feelings by using words, he cannot do it in proper way. But he has Mikey, who is so alike inner him. Michelangelo apologizes not only for himself, but for D mostly, because D starts suspected April.

Let's continue: the episode 8B: Hypno Part Deux

• Donnie put "Donnie's blocker" at April's phone to protect her.

It's common thing that your friend install some programs or apps on your device. But you will always ask your friend to do such a favour, and you will always know about what, when and where were installed on your phone.

And April didn't know Donnie had done something with her phone. It was a real surprise for her, to see blocker with "Donnie says no-no-no".

And you know, the interface of his app. The way he tell this current phrase. Donnie could put a huge banner "THE APP YOU WANT DOWNLOAD TO IS A REAL PIECE OF GARBAGE", as usual antiviruses do. But no, voice interface. It makes the app more personal and thoughtful. Because when Don made gifts for his brother, the program was voiced by a computer-generated female voice. Yes, the tank's interface is voiced by Donatello himself, but his voice sounds more like Google than the real Don. And, we talking about HIS BABEY, for a second. Bit still, the point remains.

• Also, Dale.

Dale is nerdy boy in purple, wow, how convenient for making a parallel with certain purple turtle.

But thing is, April doesn't like Dale. He's clingy, remora guy, who has a little obsession with April, even he's not harmful, still, such behaviour freaks girls (and not them only) out. Her classmate is usually tell her what April O'Neil is "his favourite person" and he loves her. There is little that is attractive about this behavior.

So, there is nothing new and unpredictable here that Dale was rejected. Because April didn't, doesn't and won't like him because of his lame personality and strange behaviour. Our girl in yellow do right thing: she clearly sets personal boundaries and does not allow any dubious personalities to invade them. So that's the reason she refuses to go on a date with him at the end. He's weird, obsessed, and she doesn't like him.

Donatello, as far as I concerned from different versions of TMNT, was always a little obsessive with some things. And, you know, putting a blocker inside your best friend's phone seems a little weird, because it's, in simple words, violation of privacy and personal space. And there are people who may regard this as stalking or sorta.

Yeah, for the most part, he gets away with it, not only because April's focus is in a different area, but also because their bond is stronger than April's with anyone else at school.

She has known him for years. Donnie is her best friend. I can't say that it's fine to her when Dee violates her personal space - her phone, but April can accept Donatello's personality in general.

And he does really have good intentions. Donnie installed this blocker, developed by himself only for one reason: to protect personal space April from fishy apps from nowhere, from being hacked and etc. Don knew her too well, how much she depends on stupid apps that will distract her. He also knew well, that he can't be with her 24/7 to fix problems with April's phone, so Dee put a part of himself to prevent any harm in the future.

And again, "Donnie's gifts"'s vibes. Donatello genuinely cared about April, because he wrote, coded, developed, designed, and dubbed it, turned on the database, and installed it all on April's phone. 'cause, you know, writing programs in general is a bit of a hassle, but writing an antivirus is much more difficult, because viruses are changing, and questionable applications are finding ways to bypass. Do you feel how much effort Dee put in for her?

But Donatello didn't mean to fix April, as he tried to do with his brothers. Purple turtle accepts this girl the way she is, and tries his best to play smoothly with April, by adjusting, not being passive aggressive jerk. It's his outstanding way to show his caring nature, soft side.

Remember, small but meaningful actions.

Maybe, Donnie also can foresee that April may be forced to download some suspicious program, but still, it work: he managed to prevent April being hypnotized, even if couldn't be physically with April at the this moment - Dee was working for Repo Mantis, building dog's paradise for Todd. That's why, by the way, Leo and Raph were dragged into this whole situation. Mayham would teleported literally anyone to help his hostess. Donnie just wasn't at the Lair at the moment.

And on this note, we'll take a break for now. Stay tuned, expect parsing of the series, there's a lot to discuss.

Part 2

Part 3

#rottmnt #rise of tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja #rise donnie #rise donatello #rottmnt donatello #hamato donatello #april o'neil #rise april #rottmnt april #aprilxdonnie #rottmnt apritello #apritello #lonnnnnnnng post #sorry not sorry #zero regrets #apritello express

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mythiccheroacademia · 5 years ago

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Hey I would like to ask if the reader can be teaching the girls how to twerk How would Bakugo Izuku Todoroki and Kirishima react to this Love you😍🥰🥰

bc this was requested wayyyyy before i put up the rules (thank u for being patient, love), i’ll write for the four you asked for :) all requests after will have to abide by the three or less rule!

A/N: Every girl has looked in the mirror and practiced. You can’t tell me otherwise. Also, Mina is gonna be in all of them because I just know that girl can twerk lmaoFunny story! One time, people in my class held a Twerk 101 class because what we saw at parties was atrocious. I was one of the professors hehe~

Warnings: N/A

Bakugo Katsuki:

there was no reason why the girls of class 1-A were up at 2am holding a twerk class

but they were

you, mina, and momo were the teachers

everyone else was the students

it was tough work, but you all were making progress

if you could see hagakure, you were sure she would’ve been killing it

in the midst of you giving a preview of tick-tocking, someone barged into the girls’ living room

it was your bf bakugo

“WHY ARE YOU BITCHES MAKING ALL THIS NOISE AT 2 AM IN THE FUCK–”

sees you twerking and immediately freezes

it’s so quiet

his eye twitches

it’s too early to deal with this

his face gets really red and instead of cussing you all out like he planned to do, he just aggressively snorts

“continue on, just doing it fucking quietly”

mina: “well that went better than expected”

Midoriya Izuku:

you and mina were dancing around in your room

you were having a dance off

and then some ass-throwing music came on

then it turned into a twerking contest

y’all were breaking your backs

and then your bf, midoriya walked in

like he owned the place

“hey, [Y/N], do you know how to solve number six–”

the two of you didn’t even know he was there until he screamed

like, a scream that’d make your throat sore

you jump and find the green-haired boy as red as a tomato

he’s mumbling apologies and how good you were

then he’s out of the room before you could even blink

trips on the way out

Todoroki Shoto:

you were teaching the best girl tsuyu how to twerk

she was self-conscious about her butt bc it was on the smaller side

you could relate bc you didn’t have the biggest butt, so you had to get creative

mina wanted to help

bc little booties matter!

whiles you were giving a tutorial, todoroki walks in

it’s like the jazz record stops

everyone is just staring

and then todoroki deadass says

“do you need someone to practice on?”

“todoroki–”

“i will gladly volunteer”

“SHOTO”

mina: “the energy!”

you’re mortified and tsu and mina are laughing

todoroki is serious tho

Kirishima Eijrou:

y’all are 18 in this

the girls wanna be prepared for the club

they’ve seen you twerk and needed help

“[y/n]-sensei, please pass on your wisdom!”

who were you to deny your friends?

if everyone was stepping out, everyone had to be on point!

you were teaching your lesson, giving criticism

then your bf kirishima walks in

instead of being awkward, he gives you a thumbs up

“good work! you dance well!”

he’s so pure and wholesome

he even shows how a guy should respectfully approach a girl to dance with

the girls marvel at how well he follows your hips

they take notes

kiri tells them that if they feel uncomfortable, they can walk away without an excuse

truly the manliest man in UA

#bnha imagines #mha imagines #BNHA Headcanons #kirishima x reader #bakugou x reader #izuku midoria x reader #todoroki x reader #Kirishima Eijirou #todoroki shouto #midoriya izuku #bakugo katsuki #bnha x poc!reader #bnha x black reader #mina is a twerking queen and it's law

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taexual · 4 years ago

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i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (13)

jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: angst, years of longing escalating into something serious

words: 8.6k (send help)

chapter thirteen

The lamp posts on the street illuminated Jungkook’s face with a warm yellow haze as the two of you walked back to your dormitory, the noise of the party – and the argument you’d had outside of it – already behind you. You didn’t dare to watch him for longer than just a split-second but you could feel his eyes on you when he thought you were too focused on the pavement to notice.

You hadn’t said a word to each other since you left the front yard of his house – and that was already two and a half blocks away – and both of you were busy worrying what the right way to say goodbye once you reached your dorm was. A wave didn’t feel enough but a hug seemed inappropriate after the intense conversation you’d had.

Clearing his throat, Jungkook volunteered to make your trip less awkward.

“Were you actually going to have me arrested?” he asked, recalling your previous threat with surprising clarity – probably because it had impressed him so much.

You sighed, recognizing the amusement on his features – no matter how hard he tried to play it off as simple curiosity – and then said, “no, probably not. That would have only ruined your whole plan and your future—”

“I already have a record,” he pointed out. He said it like that was supposed to make you feel better – it’s totally fine if you get me arrested, you know – but you almost stopped walking in surprise.

“Y-you do?” you asked, unable to fathom how a family as rich as his could not find a way to ensure their beloved son remained a flawless citizen.

“It’s not the first time I got into a fight,” he explained simply and, if you hadn’t known the truth, you’d have thought he really was just your usual troublemaker with no strong backing from his relatives whatsoever. “Some of those fights were more public than others.”

“And your dad—?”

“He took care of it to the best of his ability,” Jungkook admitted, sounding far less dignified than when he mentioned he had a record – as if that was something to be proud of. “But he can only do so much without staining his own reputation. It’s just a few misdemeanors anyway, so he decided it wasn’t worth it. If it proved to be a problem later on, he thought he could just blame it on my youth.”

You chose not to voice it – to avoid an argument that would certainly arise because that was just how Jungkook was – but you couldn’t help thinking that his father’s reasoning was actually different. Maybe he chose not to cover Jungkook’s previous arrest up to teach him a lesson.

“Does that bother you?” you asked instead.

“What?

“That he didn’t put enough work to cover this up.”

Jungkook looked down. All of your questions about his feelings, his wishes, his ambitions were so unusual to him that he didn’t even know what the proper way of answering them was, because you looked like you genuinely wanted to know. You didn’t ask just to be polite.

“No,” he ended up saying, “I didn’t want him to cover it up. And it’s not like I acted out to get his attention, or anything. He seemed really tired of it all when he had to deal with that. You know he’s usually the sort who gets his frustrations out vocally?”

“Yeah,” you said.

“Well, when he picked me up from the police station, he didn’t say a word,” Jungkook said. “It was like I’d unlocked a new level of disappointment – one I’d never seen before – where he was just quietly fuming. Or just… so disappointed, he couldn’t even begin to find words.”

You felt jittery. It was hard to walk when your legs kept trying to bounce nervously, hoping to rid you of the excessive anxiety.

“I never knew this,” you said.

Jungkook gave you a smile that wasn’t supposed to seem sad but, because it was purposefully meant to conceal his despair, sad was exactly what it seemed like.

“My mom didn’t tell yours,” he said.

“But they tell each other everything,” you felt the need to point out but you could feel your own naivety getting the best of you – even the people, who had no secrets, had secrets.

“Yeah, I know,” Jungkook replied. “But I don’t think my mom would have had it in her to brag to her best friend – with a straight-A student for a daughter – that her son got arrested. She may have been less obvious than my dad, but she was still just as disappointed.”

Your heart clenched uncomfortably when he mentioned your scholarly achievements and, for a brief moment, you almost felt bad for being such a good student when he was struggling to be a good person.

But you didn’t think now was the time to feel bad about yourself – especially since there wasn’t anything you should have felt bad about in the first place – and you eyed Jungkook carefully before finally daring to ask, “did they ever say they were disappointed in you?”

“They don’t have to say it, it’s plain and obvi—”

“No, but maybe that’s just you assuming things,” you interrupted. Your mind conjured up a thousand scenarios of how this conversation could have gone wrong, but your mouth kept moving, “you have that right. I mean, they have been disappointed in you plenty of times before. But maybe this time they weren’t. Maybe they were just scared for you.”

Jungkook looked at you and he wanted to believe that you were basing your speculations on some legitimate evidence that he’d missed, instead of just hoping that this was true. But he’s known his parents long enough to recognize their defeat.

“Why would they be scared?” he questioned rhetorically. “I know how to throw a punch.”

“Well, maybe that’s why,” you said.

“No, that’s not it,” he said firmly. “They don’t get scared when I get into fights. They get frustrated, like how did I dare to do that? And then do that again. And again. Maybe they also get confused: I am their son and yet they can’t explain why I am this way.”

He said it like he was diseased – like lacking proper conflict-resolution skills and being impulsive was an illness he’d inherited from someone and, since no one else in his family was sick, that had to mean he didn’t belong there. He belonged somewhere else.

And every time he did something that did not fit into the frame of acceptable behavior in his family’s eyes, it just reminded them that he was the black sheep in a herd of white ones. How did he get here?

“It’s not just you,” you said, your heart hurting. No matter if his parents were really disappointed in him or if they were just worried for him, no child should ever feel like he didn’t belong at home. “Kids from close, loving families rarely grow up to be impulsive or, well, aggressive.”

He clenched his jaw after you said this and that was when you knew that, despite feeling shunned for not being the son his parents had wanted, Jungkook was still their son. They were still his parents.

“I was always like this,” he declared. “From the day I was born. You know that. The relationship with my family hardly changed anything.”

You wondered if he was aware he was defending his family – the family that constantly hurt him with their expectations – by shifting all blame to himself.

“They could have worked as a preventative measu—”

“How, exactly? Remember the time I gave three kids from my pre-school class bloody noses?” he said to prove his point. “Because one of them mocked my drawing of a giraffe and the other two laughed.”

“I-I remember—” you struggled to find a word, “that. It’s not an acceptable way to solve conflict. If they’d taught you that—”

“Acceptability is subjective,” he snapped.

“Uh, sure,” you said and then stopped to wonder if you had the right to draw these conclusions about him.

You thought that, if only Jungkook had gotten more love from the people who were most responsible to love him, he may have grown up to be different – but saying that out loud would have made you sound far too condescending and it would have made a normal person feel uneasy.

Someone who was as arrogant as Jungkook was bound to get riled up – he was already defensive enough as it was – and, maybe, rightfully so. He wasn’t telling you about his family to have you psychoanalyze him. He was just talking to you.

“I-I guess there are other factors that determine how a person chooses to react to something,” you said, threading more carefully now. “For example, you let your testosterone make your decisions for you.”

The sudden transition to biology confused him as he turned to look at you with furrowed eyebrows. “My testosterone?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “It’s obviously your uncontrollable hormones that get you in these situations in the first place. You’re like a twelve-year-old boy, unsure what to do with himself, so you just go with whatever your instincts tell you.”

“Fourteen-year-old boy,” he corrected.

You shrugged. “What’s the difference?”

“The difference is I was fourteen when we stopped being friends.”

That only confused your further. “What does that have to do with—”

“Maybe you were the preventative measure that my family was supposed to be for me,” Jungkook said, the words pouring out as smoothly and elegantly as the floating of your skirt in the windy night. He chuckled humorlessly as he finished, “and then I lost that – the only positive influence in my life.”

You wanted to tell him that he never lost you. That he tried to rid himself of you, he tried to walk away – but he never lost you. No matter how much you wanted to detach yourself from him, to walk away, to move on – he never lost you.

And, more than that, you wanted to ask him why that happened – to demand why he walked away – but allowing him to shift the focus to your relationship would have been selfish. This wasn’t about you-and-him right now. This was about you and him.

Because you were here. You were always here. But Jungkook wasn’t – not always. Often, he fell out of touch with himself completely. And if there was no him, there could never be you-and-him.

“You… you need to be the positive influence in your life,” you said instead, advocating for independence when all you wanted was for him to let you hold his hand so he was steadier on his feet. “You can’t rely on others to get you out of the messes you create all the time.”

“I know,” Jungkook said but he no longer felt like discussing the reasons for his behavior, because every reason eventually led back to you – and when he thought of you, he couldn’t think of anything else. “But I never learned how to take care of myself, did I?”

“No, you never did,” you agreed and then, watching him smile appreciatively – you rarely ever agreed with him – you continued more playfully, “maybe it’s time you started learning, you big baby.”

He laughed and even the wind stopped to listen.

“Maybe,” he said then, the same pathetic hopeful tone that was in your voice before, now evident in his, “I do have you to help me again, don’t I?”

You do, you wanted to say, you’ve always had me. But you only smiled.

“I can’t be the one to handle your conflicts for you,” you said instead. “You have to learn how to do that yourself. How to do that responsibly. I can just… be there for you.”

And, much to the joy of your body that was aching to support him, he smiled and said, “that’s more than enough.”

“Okay,” you swallowed. You felt relieved suddenly – like the tension that surrounded you since you left the party had finally dissipated – and, paradoxically, nervous. Like you didn’t know how to act anymore.

Jungkook didn’t seem to notice that, however, as he teased, “support me even when I inevitably fuck up again, though, yeah?”

You raised your eyebrows, countering his lively pout.

“That’s not a very good attitude,” you said. “How do you expect to change if you’re setting yourself up for failure from the get-go?”

He shrugged. “By a miracle?”

“Jungkook.”

“Come on. I have you rooting for me. I won’t let you down,” he assured you and then, carelessly throwing his arm around your shoulders, added, “I am a great actor. I just have to start playing a responsible role.”

“It’s your father you’re supposed to prove your responsibility to, not me,” you reminded him – just like he’d reminded you a few days ago in your dorm room – although your skin was burning from his touch. “But I’m hoping that by pretending to be responsible, you’ll actually learn a thing or two and prove yourself to us both.”

Jungkook looked at you – his face so close and so welcoming – and said, in the most laid-back fashion that was possible for someone who’d just crossed half the campus while analyzing his childhood issues, “you’re very preachy when you’re drunk.”

It felt like you’d left the party years ago as you said, “I don’t feel drunk anymore.”

“Oh, well. That doesn’t surprise me then.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he leaned his head against yours and the touch of your temples was electrifying -- like shock therapy that numbed every one of your senses except the ones that consumed his close presence. “I’ve missed your lectures.”

You doubted that but your voice didn’t sound convincing when you spoke – he probably wouldn’t have even heard you if he wasn’t so close, “have you, really?”

“Hmm,” he purred and your pulse nearly flat-lined. “I’ve missed everything about you.”

If you two weren’t walking so close to each other, if he didn’t have his arm around your shoulders, if his head wasn’t pressed against yours – then maybe his words wouldn’t have strummed the strings of your heart so terribly and so delightfully. Maybe you wouldn’t have forgotten all about the seven-year-long silence when you heard the song his words played for you.

But you were walking so close to each other – so close, in fact, that a passerby wouldn’t have been able to tell where your body ended and his began; you shared a silhouette.

And he did have his arm around your shoulders – pulling you closer to him while making sure you were steady on your feet even if his own balance was off.

And his head was pressed against yours – so gently and yet so naturally, it was as if there were magnets inside your skulls and they literally pulled you to one another.

And, thus, when you reached the door of your dorm room, you could not imagine yourself saying goodbye. You couldn’t imagine watching him walk away.

“Are you coming in?” you asked as Jungkook waited a few steps away, unsure how to behave now that the moment-at-the-end-of-the-night had arrived.

“I thought you said you felt like going to sleep,” he said perhaps a little awkwardly.

“I do,” you said and maybe you were still drunk without realizing it but you felt bold enough to add, “but I also feel like spending time with you in a place where... we don’t have to worry about what other people think. Not to mention, your wound needs to be taken a look at.”

“My wound?” his bruised cheekbones had completely escaped his mind. “Oh, that—it’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“At least, let me put a band-aid on it,” you asked.

“And cover up my beautiful face?” he scoffed, using his favorite strategy of dealing with problems – deflection. “No.”

You sighed. “It won’t be beautiful if it scars.”

“Are you kidding?” he still didn’t give in, bringing a hand down the side of his own face and clenching his teeth so you wouldn’t see him wince when he touched the wound. “It’ll make me look badass.”

“You’re a baby,” you declared and then ordered, “come inside.”

“Not if you’re going to be pulling your medical equipment out on me—”

Groaning, you cut him off with a reluctant – but irritated – promise, “I won’t. Now, come in.”

“Are you sure?” Jungkook checked again but he was already reaching for the door that you kept open for him.

“Yes,” you said.

He still hesitated. “Because you don’t have to—”

His uncertainty did terrible things to your boldness – it seemed to vanish with every moment that he did not enter your room.

“Look, if you’d rather get back to the party,” you said, “and drink some more of Taehyung’s painfully unbearable drinks, then, by all means, go—”

“No,” he cut in sharply – maybe too sharply – and then, just to be sure you understood why he cut you off, he said, “I’d rather be with you.”

“Well, come inside, then,” you said and, because you were nervous, you felt the need to add, “but I can’t promise to be more entertaining than absinthe.”

He snickered, finally walking past your doorway. “Oh, you have a far bigger effect on me than absinthe.”

He stopped to take his shoes off. You stopped to lock the door.

The hallway of your dorm-room was very small for two people but, locked away from the rest of the world, you suddenly felt like you were home. Like there was nothing to be nervous about here. Like you were back with your best friend that you’d known for decades.

“Ah,” you started to say because you were back with your best friend that you’d known for decades, “so it burns your throat when you get in contact with me and you feel sick every time you look at me?”

“That’s—” Jungkook paused, one sneaker off. He raised his eyes to look at you. “You really hate it that much, huh?”

“It’s a rational feeling,” you said, unbuckling the strap of your own shoes. “Absinthe is not meant to be enjoyable.”

“Well, if we’d stayed longer, you would have seen what my bandmates do with it,” Jungkook said. “It involves a cube of sugar and a whole lot of cursing because their hands shake too much to do anything.”

He hadn’t realized just how hypnotizing it could be to watch someone take off their shoes so, when you finally placed your shoes on the floor, your feet aching from the torture you’d put them through tonight, he was still staring at your legs.

You cleared your throat, somewhat self-conscious now. “I’m, uh—I’m a little intrigued.”

This got him to lift his eyes to your face. “Oh? So… does that mean there’s a little possibility you’ll go to the party with me again next week?”

“Next week,” you repeated, realizing that this was Parental Advisory’s routine: parties every Friday, hangovers every Saturday. You turned around with a soft sigh and headed into the bedroom, plopping down on your bed. “I didn’t sign up for that.”

Jungkook chuckled, sitting down on the bed next to you.

“You don’t have to come,” he said, keeping respectful distance from you – because you weren’t walking across campus anymore, now you were on a bed – but still remaining close enough to hear your faint breathing. “I was just kidding. We can stay here.”

You looked at him. “No.”

“No?” he repeated, his voice breaking in surprise. “Okay, then. We don’t have to do anything togeth—”

“No, I just mean—you like that,” you clarified before his stomach could drop any lower. “You enjoy partying, hanging out with people, drinking, dancing, and all that. I don’t want you to give that up to hang out with me here.”

You were saying you didn’t want to bore him. You were saying you didn’t want him to overstep the boundaries of your fake relationship.

He’d never heard you say something so stupid before and he didn’t realize that it was his own words that got you to feel this uncertain.

“I’m not giving anything up,” he said because, apparently, even the smartest people sometimes needed to have it spelled out for them. “I do enjoy that but I also enjoy spending time with you.”

In your defense, it wasn’t spelling out that you needed. It was reassurance.

“We haven’t done that since we were… well, in middle school,” you pointed out and your last words were an incantation of a silence spell that prevented you from saying anything else for the next few minutes.

This time was no exception, as both of you shared a thoughtful moment, avoiding each other’s eyes, and then Jungkook clapped his palms on his knees, nodding his head in the direction of your laptop on the desk across the room.

The spell was broken. You weren’t going to speak of that day. Not today.

“Well, come on, then,” he said. “We have a lot of catching up to do, it’s been seven years. Show me the movies I’ve missed.”

“Lots of movies came out in seven years,” you replied but got up from the bed to get your computer nevertheless.

“Well,” Jungkook said, dramatically extending his arm to check the non-existent watch on his wrist. “We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

You sat back down, smiling at his antics, and pulling up your Videos folder. You scanned it briefly, trying to pick one movie that would leave a long-lasting impression on him – even though you couldn’t explain why you wanted to impress him.

“Don’t think about it,” he suggested. “Just choose the first one. We’ll watch them all.”

You scoffed. “There’s not a chance in hell you’ll stay awake through more than one movie.”

“You want to bet?” he countered, knowing your taste in movies too well. “After the movie you’ll choose, I’m sure I won’t be able to sleep for a week.”

You rolled your eyes as you smiled – he’d never grown to like horror movies as much as you did – and teased, “don’t be a baby.”

“I can’t,” he pouted on purpose, hoping for more of your sympathy and not knowing that he already had all of it. “I scare easily.”

“You don’t,” you said. “You just get distracted all the time and everything catches you unprepared.”

“That’s the same thing,” he insisted.

Sighing as you finally settled on the movie, you gave him a look. “Just try not to fall asleep on me, okay?”

“Do you mean that literally or—”

“I mean it in every sense of the word,” you replied. “If you start snoring during my favorite part, I might not be able to forgive you.”

“So strict about snoring,” he said, a mocking grin on his lips.

“I am,” you replied, completely serious. “So, now that we’ve established that—”

“We established that in second grade,” he reminded you, “when you tried to suffocate me with a pillow during our sleepover.”

“I…” you started to say but the memory was too unexpected and overwhelming – and he didn’t remember it correctly. “I tried to get you to stop snoring!”

“By putting a pillow on my face!”

“Nothing else worked!”

“You could have kicked me!”

“I did!” you said. “Several times. My feet bruised.”

He rolled his eyes, adamant to prove your murderous tendencies. “Oh, please.”

You shook your head, the argument so pointless and unnecessary that you chose to opt for a compromise. “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen tonight, alright?”

“It won’t,” he assured you, “I stopped snoring after that incident. I guess, you could say I haven’t recovered from that trauma. I’m constantly afraid someone’s going to try to use a pillow on me—”

“I wasn’t trying to do that!” you said with a groan and when he opened his mouth to protest again, you cut in quickly, “drop this or I really will suffocate you with a pillow.”

He closed his mouth again and then nodded, impressed.

“Still very strict about snoring,” he corrected his earlier statement. “I’ll keep my breathing in check.”

You finger lingered on the mouse button, ready to play the movie you’d picked, but your mind lingered on the memory he’d brought back and all the other memories that came with it. It’s already been a long night, full of reminiscing, discussing, and analyzing.

But you couldn’t resist it.

You’d wanted to know for so long – even if there was nothing to know and it was something that just happened as things sometimes did – that even the late hour couldn’t stop you.

You didn’t want closure. Seven years have gone by – you didn’t want it.

You needed it.

“Can I ask you something?” you started, swallowing slowly.

“Of course,” Jungkook said, unsure why your face had clouded all of a sudden.

“It’s been seven years,” you said and the thunderclouds started to make sense. “Why did you talk to me that night at the party?”

The question was so loaded, he probably wouldn’t have been able to answer it without reflecting on his entire life. But right now, after the night he’d had, you managed to catch him off guard and his mind was void of any answer that made sense.

“Because you were there,” he said because that was the simplest way of explaining it.

You needed more. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve…” he shifted his weight to his side until he was half-laying on your bed, his left shoulder pressed into the corner where your bed met the wall. His body was facing you but his eyes were on your hands, “I’ve wanted to talk to you for a very long time. Actually, since the day I told you we shouldn’t be talking anymore,” he paused here. He never learned how to talk about that without pausing. “Not a clever decision on my part.”

“Mm, no, not really,” you felt the bitterness in your voice as you said this but you didn’t try to justify it – and Jungkook didn’t need you to.

“Yeah,” he only nodded. “So, I don’t know. I saw an opportunity to talk to you again – and I was drunk, and sort of on a post-show high – so I took it.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” he confirmed but it sounded like only one half of an answer that you needed. Jungkook didn’t know how to explain the other half and he naively hoped he wouldn’t have to. “Timing, right?”

You weren’t sure if that was right. He could tell.

“You deserve a better answer,” he acknowledged, sighing heavily, “but I don’t want to lie and make up stories about how I’d been—I don’t know—bracing myself to talk to you for a long time, how I planned it all out, because that’s not true. I did want to talk to you, I’ve wanted to every day, but I probably never would have. Not if I wouldn’t have seen you right then and there, in front of me.”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t think I was in any position to seek you out,” he replied, “and, actually, I sort of got the feeling that you weren’t that excited to see me, either. Every time I saw you on campus, I’d blink, and you’d be on the other side of the street, already far away from me.”

Fair enough, you weren’t entirely blameless in this, either, you decided, and then admitted, “yeah. Maybe I was avoiding you a little.”

He chuckled. “I deserve that. I made the decision to… to stop talking to you and I knew I should have stuck with it.”

“Can I ask you something else, then?”

He knew what you were going to ask as he exhaled shakily and closed his eyes. “Yeah.”

“Why did you make that decision?” you asked, unafraid of the potentially childish connotations in your voice. You just needed to know. You’d waited for this long enough. “Why did you decide to stop being friends with me?”

Even though he hadn’t answered you yet, just getting the question out of your system felt so relieving, it was as if Sisyphus had dropped his boulder on your chest seven years ago and now, at long last, you’d rolled it off.

The boulder seemed to roll off onto Jungkook, however, as he tried to open his mouth to speak several times, but always ended up closing it again. He didn’t know where to begin.

“We… we were so different back then,” he finally said. He looked at you then and there was hope in his eyes – he wanted you to understand him without any words. “Remember?”

“From right now?” you asked. You weren’t willing to try to decipher the signals his eyes were sending you. Right now, you needed him to use his words.

“From each other,” he clarified. “You were always so focused on your studies and spent so much time working with the school staff when you were in the student council, you were essentially the de facto headmaster of our school.”

You snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Right. And I was… well, you knew me then. I haven’t changed much.”

“The troublemaker,” you said and then, almost automatically, tried to make light of the situation because he looked like he was having a hard time and you didn’t want that. “Good thing there are no more PTA meeting in college, huh?”

Jungkook laughed at this but his laughter lacked humor.

“Yeah,” he said, not sounding wistful in the slightest. He wouldn’t go back to high school even if someone paid him to do it. “There’s still the risk of expulsion even without them. That never goes away in any institution.”

“It’s what brings you to life, though,” you said, your previous discussion returning to your mind. “You love the adrenaline, the danger of doing something that might have long-lasting repercussions. You always have.”

“And you don’t,” he said sadly. “That’s why I felt like—I didn’t want to—I was bad for you.”

Your loud heartbeat momentarily halted your ability to comprehend his words. “Hmm?”

“You probably don’t know this, but,” he hesitated on the very edge of what he knew you needed to hear, “I’d overheard my parents talk about us once, after our middle school graduation.”

There it was again. The last day of your middle school.

Thankfully, this time, the silence spell didn’t linger and Jungkook continued. Actually, this time, the spell didn’t even work on him – now that he’d decided to answer your question – now that he’d found how to answer it – he couldn’t be silenced.

“And the only thing I remember from their conversation,” he said, “is my mom – who’s been on my side for as long as I could remember, standing up for me to my teachers even when they believed I was a lost cause – saying to my dad that she was afraid I was going to be the end of you.”

“What?” you asked, perplexed.

After spending almost every day with Jungkook – and his family, too – for years, you hadn’t even considered that they may have been talking about you when you weren’t there.

“She, um… she saw something between us that we didn’t, I guess,” Jungkook continued as his fingers absentmindedly toyed with the edge of your blanket, his eyes on the shredded fleece. “And she believed I would be the reason why you stopped working so hard. Why you lost your ambitions. She thought I’d turn you into someone entirely different.”

“But that’s—why would she—” all the questions you had tried to pour out of you at once.

“She saw how much we meant to each other and—”

“Yeah, but—” you cut him off and, closing your eyes for a moment to settle on just one of the many things you wished him to explain, you tried, “I mean, why couldn’t she have looked at it from a different perspective? I could have been the good influence that you needed in your life. Y-you said I was.”

“I thought you were. I still think you are. But, um…” Jungkook spoke to the fleece blanket because he couldn’t speak to you, “she… she didn’t seem to think you had it in you to resist me.”

“Resist you?” you repeated, unexpectedly offended. But that only lasted for a second before you felt it necessary to disarm yourself and stop pretending. You were absolutely devoted to Jungkook when you were growing up. “Oh, fuck it,” you said. “She probably had a point.”

Jungkook was prepared to hear your offence. He was not prepared to hear that.

“She had?” he repeated, looking at you for the first time since he started talking.

You swallowed the ball in your throat. “Yeah.”

Shakily, Jungkook concluded, “so, I made the right choice, then.”

“By putting an end to our friendship?” you asked, suddenly aware of how cold your body seemed to be, your hands especially – and painfully so, too. Dancing with the ghosts of your past proved to be difficult. “Was that for my benefit, then?”

It wasn’t the disbelief in your voice that he focused on. It was the anger.

You’d moved on. He thought you moved on – you were still the same in almost every aspect that he remembered, but you were also so different: so mature, so determined, so certain.

And he was partially right – you clearly didn’t hold a very strong grudge. But he also felt ridiculous for assuming that, despite it being so long, you wouldn’t still be angry about this now.

You’d allowed him back into your life and blessed him by not asking him to explain himself for weeks before you finally gathered the courage to do it; it was natural for you to feel angry about something that you’d waited for for so long.

“That’s… well, it was supposed to be,” he explained and then felt the need to defend his decision by saying, “that’s how everyone seemed to see it. I didn’t want you to lose the best parts of yourself because of me. And I don’t doubt that your parents were also relieved when I was no longer such a prominent part of your life.”

You had considered the possibility that Jungkook ended your friendship per the request of his parents. But you had assumed they saw you as a threat to him – even if, in retrospective, that didn’t make a lot of sense; what threat could you have possibly posed to him or the company?

Instead, it was the other way around.

Looking down, you said, “my parents weren’t relieved.”

“They weren’t?” Jungkook repeated because he couldn’t find enough words of his own.

“No,” you confirmed, remembering the not-so-distant times when Jungkook’s name was a forbidden word at your dinner table. “Hardly any parent would feel relieved to see their child cry her eyes out for days.”

Admitting this made you feel vulnerable and it would have made you feel pathetic, too, if Jungkook didn’t immediately wince after you said this – not from pity, but from his own hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he said because he had to, and because he was. And then, even though he didn’t have to, he continued, “I didn’t handle that well, either. I broke my leg in a bike accident about three weeks after we last talked.”

You frowned, focusing all of your energy into your confusion so your wet eyelashes wouldn’t release the droplets of tears down your cheeks. “Was that—”

“That’s how I deal with my emotions,” he said with a nod, confirming your guess. “That is, I don’t. I get reckless and I do stupid shit. That’s the last time I ever saw Dad’s beloved Ducati. He sold it.”

“He sold the bike?” you asked. The bike had belonged to Jungkook’s father who was a casual collector of sports cars and motorcycles – much to the joy of his underage son – but Jungkook was never permitted to drive any of them, at least, not until he was “old enough” according to his father’s standard.

“On the same day they ‘scraped my body off the pavement.’ That’s how he put it,” Jungkook said. “I only got to ride it that one time. Clearly, I’m not a natural. But dad couldn’t believe I was stupid enough to get on a bike for the first time without a helmet or any help at all. He wasn’t even looking for reasons why I did it, he didn’t ask me anything. Just sold the bike, locked up the garage, and didn’t talk to me for a week after I returned from the hospital. Actually—t-that was the first major thing that lead to me moving out of their house later on.”

You replayed his words for a long time, thinking and trying to understand.

“Why did you ask me to put this act? To play a couple for your parents?” you asked when you thought you were ready for the final cross on the last T. “If they thought you were a bad influence on me, this—seeing us back together again, could have painted you in the wrong light again.”

He didn’t think so.

“It’s been so long,” he said, “and you’re arguably the best student in your year. You’re determined and driven. And you’d rather kick my ass to the curb than give in to me and what I want. You… you affect me in ways I could never affect you. Control me in ways I could never control you. And I mean that in a good way. You are a good influence on me. And my parents can see that now.”

Obviously, he wasn’t entirely aware of how much control he still had over you, but because now you knew that this was precisely the reason why you’d stopped being friends seven years ago, you chose not to bring it up.

“I… I don’t control you,” you said.

“You do,” he disagreed. “Maybe not intentionally—actually, probably not; I’d like to think that you didn’t want me to suffer—but you do. You want to stay inside of your room, watching movies – and I want that, too. You want me to come to class and I want that, too. You want me to change and I’m changing.”

“I just—I don’t want you to kill yourself with your recklessness. But I don’t want you to be different,” you said, looking down. “I’d... always liked you the way you were.”

Your broken-up confession couldn’t have warmed his heart more. And yet, he had to point out, “I was unbearable.”

You gave him a look that wasn’t threatening at all because your eyes were still glossy from the tears.

“I know,” you said.

He smiled in spite of himself. “And you still liked me that way?”

You nodded, not saying anything else because he already knew the answer to that—and every other—question.

“I’m sorry for these seven years,” Jungkook said then and maybe that wasn’t enough to cure the wounds the years had left but it was a start. “You had a future ahead of you and I didn’t. My parents could see that but there was little they could do. I had to understand and deal with the fact that I was going to fall off the rails sooner or later myself. I was fourteen and I had to understand that. And I did. I knew that. And I also knew I didn’t want to drag you down with me. You didn’t deserve that.”

You fell into silence again.

You knew you wouldn’t have walked away from him then – anything he’d have asked, you would have given him. Any cliff he would have jumped off of – you would have followed.

To realize that Jungkook didn’t let you go because he didn’t want to be your friend anymore, or because he got tired of you, or because he didn’t care about you anymore -- or because of any other reason you tried to find over the years -- but rather, he let you go because he knew you wouldn’t, was groundbreaking.

It didn’t fix the hurt, it didn’t make it better, and, perhaps, nothing would – the years have gone by and you couldn’t get them back – but now you knew that the end of your friendship was a sacrifice of sorts.

You were intertwined together – it was you-and-him, always you-and-him – and you were comfortable living this way, both of you were. But that wasn’t right. It wasn’t healthy.

Except, you weren’t the one who had her eyes opened seven years ago – if there was no you and him, there could never be you-and-him – and so Jungkook ended up having to break out of your comfort zone, to leave your sanctuary, and walk in a different direction. On a different road.

All so you could have a road for yourself.

“I’m…” you tried to say but the tears that had welled up in your eyes were now cascading down your face and Jungkook – alert as soon as he saw that you were crying – sat up straight. “I’m fine. It’s just been a long day. Thank you for telling me.”

“I… you’re welcome,” he said, wanting to reach out and wipe the tears away but watching you do it yourself. “Although, I wish I didn’t have to tell you anything. Not just because I don’t want you to think about my mom differently after this—she always wanted what’s best for you, we both did—but also because I… I wish there had been a different way. A way where we could have kept in touch and still remained individuals.”

“Maybe there was no such way at the time,” you said. “We’d been close from the day we were born. Maybe we needed to spend some time apart to learn how to be ourselves.”

“Maybe,” he agreed but he didn’t think that was fair. “We were too close.”

“We were,” you said and couldn’t help sniffling; the tears have started to block your breathing. “Sorry, I just—it didn’t have to be seven years. I-I mean, it doesn’t take that long for people to mature.”

“No. It didn’t have to be,” Jungkook said but the fact that he agreed with you didn’t bring you much joy because his words were sad. “I have no excuse for that.”

Knowing that you could have been setting yourself up for more heartache, you still dared to ask, “would you have talked to me sooner if I hadn’t been avoiding you?”

“Probably,” he said, afraid to look at you in case he’d lose control of himself at the sight of your tears. “I-I couldn’t resist myself. But would you have replied to me?”

You looked down, making it easier for another tear to trail down your cheek. “I did that night at the party.”

Jungkook bit his lip. “Would I have seen you again if I hadn’t crashed my car?”

You inhaled sharply, not liking that this was what it came to. “No. Probably not.”

“It didn’t have to be seven years,” he said again, nodding thoughtfully, “but I think that we… started to talk again right when we had to. When it was time.”

You didn’t like that, either. “That can’t be true.”

“We’ll never know what’s true,” he said, leaning in closer to you but still not daring to reach out and touch you. “But it’s been long enough.”

“It has been,” you said, nodding and, feeling more tears coming. You sniffled, throwing your head back to fight the crying, and excused your emotions again, “it’s been a long day. It’s been seven long years.”

It’s been a long life; but you didn’t think of your years as his best friend to be draining. If anything, these were the years that made you feel alive: both of your families so close, it was like you grew up with two sets of parents, and with a soulmate for a best friend.

It’s what happened next that was a task.

Life had been pouring out in every shade of color around you when you knew him, when you laughed with him. And when you didn’t, you had to physically strain yourself to see the world in anything other than black-and-white.

You’d worked so hard to get used to the darkness of your life that the explosion of the color spectrum when you finally got to laugh with him again was almost painful. You’d grown so accustomed to monochrome that seeing colors all over again felt scary. Dangerous. Potentially hurtful.

But now you knew he never meant to take the colors out of your life. By doing so, he ended up having to sacrifice his own brightness. His own light.

Maybe what hurt the most right now wasn’t the memory of the years that you’d spent without talking, but rather the pointlessness of it all because here you were again: together. Affecting each other in ways ordinary people should not have been allowed to affect one another.

“Come here,” Jungkook finally asked, extending his arms, but you shook your head, not wanting to admit to how big the hurricane cloud in your chest was. “Come here, please.”

The insistence of his tone wasn’t what got you to move closer in the end – it was the pain in his eyes.

This had hurt him, too. He was the one who had to find a different way so he wouldn’t have to end your friendship. He was the one who eventually failed and had to say goodbye – stone you so you’d run away. Wound you, so you wouldn’t come back.

It would have hurt your pride if you didn’t love him so much.

And he couldn’t find it in himself to say how much he wanted you to come back after he told you to leave; how much he agonized over your phone number – which he’d deleted off his phone only to realize that he knew it by heart – and how much he wished he was different—better—so he wouldn’t have to stay away from you. He couldn’t find the words.

So, he just held you – like it was the first and the last time he was ever going to hold you. And he hoped that this would be enough for you to know that he knew you loved him. He’d always known.

And he loved you, too.

“I’ve missed you. Everything about you,” he whispered, clutching your body tightly against his own and sinking his face into your hair. “So much.”

Your hair grew wet – you could feel the pain leave his heart in tears – and, even though you’d seen him cry before, you’d never cried with him. But it felt inevitable now – like everything you’d done together in the past few weeks was only the prologue and tonight you were turning the page, you were starting the first chapter of the rest of your lives.

It hurt because of how long the prologue was. It hurt because of the seven empty pages.

But it felt so relieving to reach the end. So freeing.

You wrapped your arms around him tighter because you were ready to work on letting go of the pain, and you were ready to move on, and you were so happy to have him with you. You didn’t know what awaited you after tonight but that scared you much less than all that you’d already survived.

“If history repeats itself,” you said, your nose stuffed from the crying, “we’ll find a different way, right?”

Jungkook considered pulling away when you said this but that didn’t seem right. Not holding you when he could, didn’t seem right.

“We will,” he said into your hair. “I’m not leaving again.”

And he meant it – in the long run, at least. Because this night was coming to an end.

Your laptop – and the movie you didn’t get to watch – was long abandoned as you and Jungkook sat on your bed, your legs crossed and hearts open, and you talked.

You talked and the seven empty pages filled. The filled with words, written in different fonts with different colors, but they filled.

You talked and your bodies grew tired even if your minds didn’t, so you lied down on your backs next to each other, the white concrete ceiling painting itself in the colors of all that you’d missed about each other.

You talked and the hours went by – minute by minute, morning was creeping up on you.

“It’s late,” Jungkook said when your room got so dark, he couldn’t make out which bits of skin, glistening in the pale light from the street lamps outside, were yours and which were his. But even so, he remained on his back next to you. “I should probably go home. Maybe we can watch a movie tomorrow? Or next week?”

“I… I don’t have plans tomorrow,” you said and you wanted this night to keep going so badly, that if you’d been Faust, your soul would have gone straight to hell: beautiful moment, do not pass away! “Will the party be over now?”

“No, probably not yet,” Jungkook replied, “won’t be the first time I’ll be woken up by someone drunkenly smashing a bottle or something,” he said and then, when you bit your lip, clearly concerned, he added, “it’s fine. I’m used to it.”

Then, because you were not Faust and the devil had not chained your soul to the pits of hell just yet, you found a way to stop the moment as you said, “you could stay here.”

“Hmm?” Jungkook turned his head to look at you, unsure if he understood your offer. “H-how do you mean?”

“Just… stay here,” you said with a shrug as if it was that simple. Your eyes remained on the ceiling. “The RA didn’t see you come in with me. And, usually, no one smashes anything in the middle of the night here.”

“Are you sure?” he asked again. He didn’t want to go – but just like he did before coming inside earlier tonight, he didn’t want to force you into something you weren’t ready for; God knew you’d already done so much for him.

But you assured him, “yeah. You didn’t want me walking home alone, well, maybe I don’t want you stumbling around at 3 AM, either. You’d already had one fight today.”

“It’s, uh,” he checked his phone, “four-thirty.”

You gave him a look.

“But your concern is understandable,” he added quickly, catching on, “I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable with you here.”

“Okay,” he said, your gazes so intensely focused on each other, both of you were almost paralyzed as you lied side by side.

“Yeah?” you asked. “So, you’ll stay?”

“I’ll stay if you let me.”

You turned to your side, facing him. Your eyes never left his, just like his did not stray from yours. You even seemed to blink in unison.

“Stay,” you said. “I’m letting you.”

He turned to his side as well and, as his eyes fell to your lips – he could have touched them with his own if he dared to move a little bit closer – you knew you would have allowed him do a lot more than just stay here for a night.

But you’ve come a long way tonight, both literally – when you walked back here from the party – and figuratively – when you scratched the wounds until they bled because there was no other way for them to heal properly – and maybe that was enough for one night.

“Goodnight,” Jungkook whispered because you’d walked so much tonight but your road hadn’t ended yet. He didn’t dare to touch you.

“Goodnight,” you whispered back because just having him here with you after so long felt enough right now. You didn’t have to to touch him.

keep reading | masterlist

#bts reactions #bts fanfiction #bts college au #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #bts angst #college au #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #friends to lovers au #bts f2l #fanfiction #bts au #angst

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purplerose244 · 4 years ago

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Idea scenario for episode 10 (because putting thoughts down makes me less anxious 😅)

Langa gets Reki to fix the skateboard.

They are awkward at first but then they talk and they laugh like they used to. Reki promises the board will be delivered for his final challenge. It looks like they are mostly back to normal but then Langa finds out Reki left S and they fight again. Langa tells him he can't skate without him because he makes him feel alive, Reki tells him he can't skate WITH him anymore because Langa will leave him behind. Langa tells him he's sorry he broke their promise, Reki tells him he's sorry he left Langa. Langa confesses that he loves to skate when Reki is there, because he loves Reki. Reki admits that he wants to skate with Langa because he loves Langa (possible kiss because WHY NOT ❤💙❤💙)

Despite this Reki says that until he is strong enough to be by Langa's side, he won't be back to S. Langa says that until Reki is back he won't skate but Reki doesn't want that. He says that Langa loves skateboarding, that it's what united them and it will be what will bring them back together so he needs to keep going for the both of them. Langa promises that he will keep skateboarding. They leave with another "don't be reckless" from Reki, that Langa uses back saying "you too" (possible other kiss because YA KNOW ❤💙❤💙)

There are tears as they leave each other.

(I'm guessing that the finalists will be Shadow Langa Adam and Tadashi, sorry Miya. I don't know if they will make a battle royal or a pre final to decide. For the sake of this theory I'm gonna go with Adam vs Langa again)

(I do think there will be a confrontation between Tadashi and Langa though. An Eve and the Snake situation 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️)

Adam cannot wait to dance with his Eve. Langa can't believe Reki won't be here again. He wants to run away, he wants to leave, he doesn't want to skate without him again. But he made a promise, and this time he's going to keep it. Like back in his challenge against Miya the skate is delivered a little late. Not by Reki, but by manager Oka. The skate is the same in the structure but the sketch is different: it's Reki's signature gear symbol, fused with a snowflake all over. Manager Oka says Reki is cheering for him, no matter where he is.

Heartbeat.

Langa's heart flutters. It's here. The feeling. Even when Reki is not here, he still somehow is. The challenge starts, Adam tries to play his tricks, to seduce his Eve, skating and being a creep dancing. But Langa isn't looking at him, he is beyond. The feeling he has experienced at his first challenge against Adam was a raw, dangerous excitement, that had felt like the strongest emotion he had ever experienced. He was wrong. This one feeling was honest, vivacious, protective. It was pulsing, bright, warm. It was all Reki was, it was all his love for skateboarding and him. So Langa skates, he skates like never before, because he loves this and he loves Reki and everyone needs to know.

Adam doesn't understand what is happening. He's loving Langa, he's loving him with all of his heart. And he is... rejecting him? He isn't supposed to, how can he reject his love? Adam has been loved his entire life and he has never rejected the love his aunties have inflicted on him, that was natural! Why was his Eve being like this? How could he?? Adam starts to get more aggressive, showing more of his "love" trying to make Langa "understand". It's all in vain, and Langa smiles so sweetly, looking at something that Adam cannot see. That he cannot touch.

The police arrives again, this time they know something is up (Idk maybe Tadashi did something or the investigator is that good I don't have a clear motivation for this one). Adam is too caught up with forcing himself onto Langa (it sounds very bad but honestly can you not believe when it's about him? 😑) to even care. They get to the very end, Adam is out to do anything to get Langa, even hurting him as badly as he always did, with everyone else. But Langa is too far from him.

Langa jumps.

Snow appears, the reason why he got his name in the first place.

But there's something else, a light, making every single snowflake glimmer. The sun, there is the sun and it's making his figure shine even brighter. Adam is so caught up with his inferiority that he falls and doesn't even finish the challenge.

Langa is victorious. The others celebrate him for a moment, only to be taken by the police for interrogation. In the place where Adam had fallen there is no one. Adam is gone.

It takes a while to clear up the situation and to reconnect everything to Adam as the organizer of S. It is solved quickly since the focus is on Adam and his real career anyway. But the S has been discovered and that era is now over. Joe and Cherry have a conversation about how the world changes and where are they going to skate now (it probably ends with them arguing while admitting they can't skate without the other). Miya's qualification for the nationals gets postponed because for the S mess and everyone wants to know about that. He gets to make new friends, while the old ones that rejected him slowly start to go through "redemption" to get back into the "hero's party". Shadow, with his alter ego without a place to be, takes all of his courage to ask his boss out (on this one I feel either they will start dating on a slow pace, or the girl understood that they are hanging out as friends and nothing more. Sorry, I feel like this is Shadow's fortune 😅)

Langa goes to Reki's house to tell him about S (and get some smooch- what wait who said that ahah). Reki's mom tells him that Reki won't be home for a little while, he went to meet someone in another city. Langa is sad about that but he will wait for him.

In the dark, running away from justice that keeps looking for him, Adam can't get over how his Eve has left him. How Eve betrayed him, destroying the paradise they used to have together. He is restless, he wants to go back to that place and get Eve to love him again (because Eve loved him before, suuuure 🙄). In a way, he will make everything perfect, a new paradise for them, better than before. And Eve will never leave again.

Days go by, Langa meets the others at night to skate. Sometimes Miya even brings some friends (the ones that pushed him away in the past gets a very harsh treatement from Shadow 😉), and a few schoolmates of Langa finally got curious and are trying. Joe and Cherry are severe but very good teachers. In all of this, Langa thinks that this is a really nice moment to live in. He hopes that Reki will be back soon.

In another city, in another house, Reki takes the deepest breath of his life. He makes sure his headband is right, holds onto his skateboard (it has the same snowgear symbol on it but with inverted colors) and knocks. A second later a woman welcomes him and leads him in. Reki opens another door, where a guy with medical machines around is onto the bed. He looks up from a book and smiles.

"Kyan Reki. It's been a while pal, here on vacation?"

Reki smiles back.

"I actually have a request. It might be a lot, and I know you don't skate anymore... but you taught me all I know, and I want to get better. Will you teach me how to be the best?"

The guy looks surprised. There is a photo on the wall, them on skateboards having the time of their lives. He looks at it, then he grins.

"You're having dinner with us tonight. We start tomorrow. Get ready."

Reki exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding. He looks down at his skate, hoping that what they have is real, and that this is going to be enough. But even if it isn't, he isn't going to give up. Especially not on skateboarding. Especially not on him.

He closes his eyes, a hand on his chest.

Heartbeat.

He can't wait to get back to do his best. He can't wait to learn new tricks and improve himself. He can't wait to go back to skate with Langa.

When I was a kid, back when I watched heroes on TV and stuff,

The hero said:

"What is your happiness?"

He absolutely hated ending without knowing what happiness was, he said.

... and I think I understand better now. When you fight for something, or someone, you wanna know why.

Hence the meaning of that happiness.

It still doesn't change how the world see it.

To become rich?

(Scene with Cherry closing a suitcase filled with money, leaving his room)

To be popular with girls?

(Scene with Cherry getting into Joe's restaurant while a few disappointed girl clients leave at the same time. They smile at each other while Joe put the "We're Closed" sign on the door and get back in with him)

To get into a good school?

(Scene with Miya running through the courtyard of his school with his old and new friends, looking happy)

To be respected?

(Scene with Shadow teaching his boss how to skate and her being an adorable klutz and so impressed by him)

Of course, I'm sure... I know, that for many that's what happiness is.

And I know I thought I knew what my happiness was myself.

I even thought I've lost it at some point.

I was wrong. I never found it, and I never lost it.

I'm discovering it right now.

(Scene with Reki walking left towards the kitchen of the house he's in with a smile. Scene with Langa in the place they used to train in, sitting to watch the sunset, turning towards right with a smile)

And I'll get it.

Soon, I will get my happiness too.

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elizabeth-mitchells · 3 years ago

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five times Deena and Sam met in secret (and one time they didn’t) - Chapter 5

Chapters: 5/6 Fandom: Fear Street Trilogy (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Fraser/Deena Johnson Characters: Deena Johnson, Samantha "Sam" Fraser (Fear Street) Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Canon, High School, Cheerleaders, Band, Teenagers, Teen Romance, First Meetings, First Love, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Fluff, Happy Ending, Light Angst

Secrets.

Deena and Sam met by accident. They fell in love in secret.

But how long can they last together like that?

Chapter 5 - secret heartbreak:

The following weeks were a real rollercoaster for Deena and Sam. When they were up, dizzy with love, on top of the world, they were blind to the dangers ahead of them. When they were down, a thin line away from rock-bottom, in moods so dark they could barely find each other, no matter how hard they craned their necks they couldn’t catch sight of what it was like when they were up in the clouds. Objectively, they were kids living under genuinely difficult circumstances already, and the fact that they loved each other tragically turned out to bring on more obstacles. However, if anybody dared to even hint at the fact they were possibly acting as traditionally dramatic teenagers in love… that person was aggressively ignored. If in a couple of months the two girls would find themselves involved in much more dangerous, seemingly inexplicable, deadly situations, well, they had no way of knowing that. At the time, every moment they spent together, the good and the bad, felt like a life or death situation.

Of course, there were still good moments. Those memories would last them a lifetime. Those moments would inspire them to fight back against evil forces beyond their imagination. Those memories would warm them in the cold and lonely nights they’d have to spend separately. There were big, unforgettable nights. The two of them going to a party with Kate and Simon, just so the four of them could end up ditching the party and driving Deena’s car around Shadyside in the middle of the night, music blasting from the speakers, the four of them signing at the top of their lungs, at one point breaking one of the car’s windows. Then there were a hundred simple experiences, nearly identical, but all unique and magical on their own. Three girls stopping by the Grab n´ Bag when Simon was working to cheer him up, hanging around the store as if it was a second home, making a mess and helping him clean up, laughing the entire time. Movie nights in the Johnson’s house, Kate spilling her drink during a scary movie picked by Sam, Josh adorably flustered while trying to help her, Simon waking up the next day with marker scrawls on his face, Deena and Sam sneaking away from them for some time for themselves with little to no shame in their smiling faces. Skipping classes together, bus drives to football games, hanging out at the mall, a perfect hundred years.

Looking back, in their separate houses, Deena and Sam would one day feel it was almost infuriating how perfectly Sam used to fit in with them, all of them.

Because she quickly became Kate’s right-hand woman on the cheerleading team. Kate’s commanding frown was always accompanied by a soft “she’s right” from Sam, a combination that could convince anybody of anything to the point the team looked like a small mafia of blue skirts and perfect ponytails. Kate’s razor-sharp wit was surprisingly matched by soft-spoken Sam with quiet, clever, and perfectly timed comments. The two girls used to go shopping together while waiting for Deena and Simon to get out of detention, they would be the ones in charge of cooking on the rare occasion the group chose to prepare something at home instead of ordering pizza. Deena found out only months later that Sam had approached cheer captain Kate and blushed vehemently asking her about Deena. Sam had always been too scared to call Kate her best friend, knowing Deena would always be Kate’s favorite, but that didn’t make it any less true. Kate joked so many times about how Sam “could do so much better than Deena'', not knowing Sam believed it was the entire opposite. Neither of them even suspected that in a matter of weeks Kate would be comforting a heartbroken Deena and furiously taking her side.

Then there was Simon. Walking away from him hurt Sam almost as much as leaving Deena. Simon had been the first one to call her Sam, the best at cheering her up, the one to encourage her to express every part of her that could be considered out of the norm. Sam used to be the one to paint Simon’s nails, he would be painfully slow attending Sam’s mom at the store just to annoy her and amuse Sam. He would be the one to go with her to the movies to rewatch for the third time her latest favorite horror movie, and she was the only of the girls who didn’t fight back his brotherly affection of bear hugs and occasionally picking her up. Deena had no idea that Simon had gotten the number of Sam’s house in Sunnyvale. He called her twice a week, every two weeks, once a month, and then never again. Sam deeply regretted not calling him her best more often, and she still kept the black nail polish that she didn’t even use.

Every loss that Sam was going to experience upon leaving Shadyside hurt a different way. Josh wasn’t the exception. Because Sam was an only child. She felt like she hadn't known the meaning of family until she found herself eating pizza in the Johnson’s basement with Deena, Josh, Kate, and Simon. Josh didn’t feel like a little brother to her, not exactly, but he inevitably became something very similar. Just as she knew that she couldn’t be a sister to him, not exactly, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t know she’d been a good friend to him. They could relate to each other. They were both introverted, guarded, still keeping their interest safely to themselves and the best parts of who they were hidden behind brick walls. But Sam felt more like herself whenever she was in that house, where she had received nothing but kindness and open arms. The least she could do was return the favor. The least she could do was smile and cheerfully greet him every time they crossed paths, regardless of his apparent fear of cheerleaders. She could ask about his day, about the latest videogame she didn’t really understand, about his current favorite record, listen to his rants on conspiracy theories even if Deena was rolling her eyes and trying to pull her away toward her room. Sam liked to think that if she’d known her absence would actually take a toll on him, that he’d retreat further into himself, no longer talk about his real interests to anybody in person anymore, end up resenting her and Deena as one, maybe she would’ve done things differently.

Something.

Anything.

She would’ve done everything differently if she’d known Kate would hate her, Simon would forget her, Josh would blame her, and Deena…

Deena.

Goddammit, weren’t there good moments with Deena? More than enough to make up for the bad ones? Why should Sam have to give up all that? Skipping class to run away with Deena, eating cheeseburgers in the hood of her car, helping her clean up her house to ease that weight from her shoulders, fall asleep in her arms, wake up with Deena’s head on her chest, stealing her girlfriend’s jacket, laughing with her, kissing her, dancing with her, talking for hours, counting her freckles, just the pleasure of seeing her smile… Who really cared about the bad stuff? Maybe Deena was wrong in pressuring her to come out, and maybe it was true that Sam refused to even talk about the future. So what if Deena’s negativity could be too much at times, so what if Sam’s idea of “better” was other people's thoughts and not her own. But what if it really could hurt when Deena’s temperament got the worst of her, and Sam went out of her way to outmatch her? Maybe they actually cared and suffered because of Deena misdirecting her anger at the world toward her vulnerable girlfriend, and Sam resenting Deena for issues that only Sam could solve but wouldn’t.

In the end, it hardly mattered if they knew that they were worth the fight. They didn’t find in time the motivation to fight against their problems, not even the ones they could have solved. Because if they would’ve just taken a step back they could have seen. The people around them, the ones that truly loved them, had been right when they suggested these were common struggles with teenagers handling feelings bigger than themselves. They could have seen most of their issues weren’t so severe, they were things they could have easily worked on. They had been so close to make it, they were meant to get better and get over those obstacles. And someday, they would. But first, they had to face the chapter in their lives when Deena got tired of being a secret and Sam had one last secret that would change everything.

On the last day, Deena drove as fast as she could to their high school. Her car’s tires screeched on the pavement as she parked hastily, and she was out of the car in the blink of an eye. She practically ran all the way to their spot under the bleachers to find Sam. She was waiting for her right on the spot where they met, arms wrapped around herself and eyes swollen red.

“Sam,” Deena whispered her name as soon as she was close enough and after a couple more steps, she threw her arms around her girlfriend. Sam was nearly thrown off balance, she was so dejected she barely reacted. “Tell me it isn’t true,” Deena begged through gritted teeth. “Sam,” she called her name more desperately now. “Talk to me, please. It’s me.”

That seemed to be enough to break the spell of sorrow that had fallen over Sam. All at once, the blonde wrapped her arms around Deena, grabbing fistfuls of the familiar green jacket and holding on tightly, she started sobbing, she pressed her face against Deena’s shoulder, and her entire body trembled as she cried.

“Don’t go,” Deena choked, holding the girl she loved as tight as she could. “You don’t have to go, Sam,” Deena breathed out. She was trying harder than ever to keep her cool. She bit her bottom lip hard, to avoid crying. “Please, don’t leave me,” Deena said, finally breaking down and starting to cry, “I love you.”

Deena’s heart and mind were racing, trying to make sense of what was happening. The divorce was done. Sam’s mother was moving to Sunnyvale, and taking her daughter with her. Sam was moving away. Not to a neighboring town, to an enemy town. Not a few minutes away, but a poisoned ocean away. She was leaving Deena, she was leaving her behind, and that was the loudest thought resonating in the brunette’s mind.

For a while, all they could do was hold each other. Eventually, Sam’s sobs subsided, their tears stopped coming, and their breathing evened out, so their hearts were once again beating in unison. Sam eased her hold on Deena and pulled away just enough to rest their foreheads together. She looked at the pair of eyes that had become her one true home, and she said, “I love you too, you know?”

Deena gave her a watery smile and moved her hand to delicately wipe away the tears that fell on Sam’s cheeks. “Why are you making it sound like a goodbye?” she wondered. As her only response, Sam closed her eyes, but continued to hold her. “When do you leave, Sam?” was Deena’s next question, but again, she only received silence in response. She saw no option but to pull back so she could properly look at Sam, and she repeated her question. “When do you leave, Sam?”

The blonde nearly started trembling again, but she didn’t cry. She took a deep breath, opened her watery blue eyes, and looked at Deena as she replied, “Next week.”

“Are you serious?” Deena flinched. That was a genuine question, and when the other girl nodded, she frowned. “And you’re only telling me now?”

“I’m sorry,” Sam whispered, looking down again.

“Sam, that’s fucked up,” Deena seethed. Her arms fell from her girlfriend’s frame as she took a step back. Sam reached out just in time so at least their hands would stay linked.

“I didn’t,” Sam sniffled, “want to do this.”

“Do what?” Deena tilted her head. “Break up with me?”

“Don’t do this,” Sam closed her eyes again, tightly.

“Oh, excuse me for being shocked at the fact that my fucking girlfriend tells me she’s moving away one day before leaving!”

“It’s not one day, it’s one week!” Sam protested. “This is exactly what I was avoiding.”

Deena let go of Sam’s hands then. She took a step back, but she bit her tongue to keep her next accusation from spilling out. “I’m sorry,” she finally grumbled.

Sam looked at her with a small spark of hope in her eyes. “Me too. Really.”

There was a pause in their conversation. Sam couldn’t have looked more uncomfortable if she’d tried. Deena was clenching her jaw and looking at the ground. She shoved her hands in the pockets of her pants and when she trusted her voice to be sufficiently steady, she said. “Sunnyvale, Sam? Really?”

The blonde let out a sad chuckle. “My mom’s choice. But… you know…”

Her words made Deena frown. “Know what?” She inquired. “Know what, Sam?”

In response, Sam scoffed. “Nothing,” she shook her head, “Nothing. I just, uh, have to go.” She shrugged, and looked away.

“Holy shit,” Deena breathed out, as something important clicked in her mind. “You actually want to go…”

“I don’t. My mom’s making me go.”

“Bullshit,” Deena snapped. “One, you hate your mom. Two, you’re lying to me right now, Sam.”

“She’s my mom, Deena.”

“You also have a dad,” Deena pointed out.

The comment made Sam roll her eyes. “You know my dad’s not doing much better than yours.”

“Don’t fucking get my dad involved in this.”

“Fine,” it was Sam’s turn to snap. “I’m just saying, it might not be such a bad thing.”

“Not a bad thing?!” Deena laughed darkly. “Babe, you’re moving to Sunnyvale. That goes against everything you are.”

“You don’t know that,” Sam’s frown deepened.

Once again, Deena exhaled a bitter laugh. “Oh, this again?”

“What?”

Sam had taken a step closer, and Deena imitated her, not even realizing when they had moved so far away from each other in the first place. “You think you can move to Sunnyvale and it’ll fix all your problems, huh?” Deena willed herself to smile through the pain she was feeling.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, but I’m right,” Deena continued to smirk, even if her heart broke repeatedly watching Sam’s eyes fill with tears again. “You think that if you follow your mom blindly to Sunnyvale she will suddenly like you? Is that it? You think that you can change your house, the color of your cheer uniform, and it’ll change what’s inside you? Take away all your problems?”

“Deena, stop,” Sam attempted to put an end to the attack, her voice shaking.

“Tell me, Sam,” Deena continued, ruthless, “does she know you came here to break up with me? Or is that a secret too?”

“I’m not breaking up with you.”

“Might as well do it.”

“Deena.”

At that point, both girls shut up. They were hit by the realization of what Deena had just said, what she had hinted at, not very delicately. Deena was horrified by her own words, but Sam was only getting angrier.

She took a deep, steadying breath and said, “Deena, if you really loved me you’d want what’s best for me.”

“How is this good for you?!” Deena hissed. “It’s a lie!”

“It’s an improvement.”

Another bitter chuckle from Deena came. “Nice.” As conflicted as she felt, she couldn’t take her eyes off Sam. The blonde girl was visibly furious, standing painfully straight, her hands tightened into fists, taking deep breaths to hold on to her anger. But she looked beautiful. And Deena knew her, and knew she wouldn’t be able to hold on for longer, and knew, too, that part of her needed Sam to break too.

“In Sunnyvale, there’s hope, Deena,” Sam explained slowly through gritted teeth, “I could have a better future there.”

“A future without me,” Deena added. All at once, without even her expecting it, her voice took a sad and resigned tone, instead of the blazing anger from before.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s what you’ll have.”

“It doesn’t have to be!” Sam’s voice was trembling worse than before, “Deena… I still love you.”

Deena roughly wiped tears off her cheeks and clenched her jaw. “Well, that’s inconvenient for you,” she said, “You’re a Sunnyvaler now, aren’t you?”

“Deena!” Sam yelled. She covered her face with her hands.

“How could you not tell me, Sam?!” Deena yelled too. And she got exactly what she had been waiting for.

“I was avoiding this!” Sam replied, face flushed with rage. “I knew you would freak out, I knew you wouldn't understand, I knew you would blame me!”

“What?” Deena breathed out.

“Deena! Look around you!” Sam continued to yell, moving her arms around her now. “Your life is a mess, and you want to keep it that way! You are way too damn comfortable at your rock bottom you refuse to see any other option. Even worse, you want to drag me down with you! You drag everyone down with you, Deena. Your chaos, your anger, your hate. It doesn’t help you, it doesn’t help anybody, and it’ll get you nowhere! And I’m tired of that!”

There was a tear falling over Deena’s cheek, and her lips were parted in surprise, but an incredulous smile was tugging at her lips. She was trembling as much as Sam, they were both breathing heavily, and they hadn’t felt pain like that ever before.

“Is that really what you think of me?” Deena whispered.

“No…” Sam weakly shook her head, but she couldn’t meet Deena’s eyes as she replied.

That earned the worst laugh from Deena so far. Sam took a couple of steps forward. But when she reached out for Deena, the brunette flinched away. That was one of the worst parts for Sam, because it made her feel like there was really no turning back from this now.

“It’s not the end of the world, you know?” Sam sniffled, looking as sad as she ever did, but trying her hardest to hold on to her anger. “I’m only thirty minutes away.”

Deena thought about it for a moment, she was looking down, lightly kicking the ground with the tip of her boot.

“Hey, if I’m not worth staying for, then you’re not chasing. Are you, Sam?”

Sam pretty much gasped when she heard those words. In the blink of an eye, Deena pictured what would happen if Sam burst into tears again and she wouldn’t be able to not reach out and comfort her, so they would cry together, and kiss, and make up, and solve it all. But, of course, that wasn’t what happened. Because Deena had hurt Sam just as badly.

In the end, Sam only frowned, gritted her teeth, and yelled, “Fine!”

Which, Deena thought, was sort of okay. Because as she started walking away, if she was being honest with herself, this was the only way this could have ended up like. “Have fun living your fake ass life, Sam,” she said, before turning away completely and slowly walking toward her badly parked car.

“Deena!” Sam called out her name one last time.

Sam was frozen and crying in the spot where Deena left her, while Deena drove away heartbroken in the cursed town where Sam left her.

#oh god why is angst a thing and why did i do it #fear street #deena x sam #sameena #fear street fanfic #sam x deena #fear street fanfiction #deena johnson #sam fraser #my fic

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