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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

love letter, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook gets love letters shoved in his mailbox and under his apartment door all the damn time. You, too, get love letters shoved in your mailbox and under your door. All the time. It could be a sweet gesture, but this is the twenty-first century. Love letters aren't all they're cracked up to be.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; short graphic descriptions of sex acts; smut (fem reader, a very intense make-out session including some wild tongue and too much saliva, nipple play, a bit of m-receiving oral, cowgirl, handjob); non-idol!BTS – technically university, blond, softsub!Jungkook x working, softdom!reader; slightly desperate and needy JK

yes, yes, it’s MTV Unplugged ‘Telepathy’JK

"I'm so tired of people thinking they have a chance with me."

Was the exasperated declaration as you backed up into your apartment, only to turn around and witness Jeon Jungkook dumping a waterfall of colorful envelopes from his giant black backpack onto your hardwood floor.

"At least remove your shoes before you start flaunting how hot you are," you replied dryly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes as he kicked off his large white sneakers. "Look at this shit! It's relentless! It's annoying! I just want to live my life!"

You vaguely recalled Jungkook being excited about his first love letter upon reaching university, and then the second, the third... and now you were staring at pile number five hundred on your doormat. "I don't know, put a sign on your door? 'Please stop, the answer is no?'"

Jungkook winced. "I can't do that. How many hearts am I going to break?"

"Uh, I dunno, you already broke half the campus by existing in general."

He bonked you on the head lightly with his denim jacket sleeve. "I have not. I've only slept with a couple people and that was supposed to be no strings attached."

You shrugged. "People can't understand that. Especially women."

He puffed his cheeks and stepped over the pile. You noticed the small stickers and nice handwriting on the colorful pastel paper. You almost felt bad, seeing all the effort put into them.

"At least they're cute. I only get torn notebook pages with scribbles."

"Stop lying. You get girls' letters too," Jungkook grumbled. "Can I borrow your computer? One of my professors assigned an online quiz and the internet at my place is down, again."

"You gotta move," you commented, kneeling down to collect the mess Jungkook made. You noticed Jungkook flit his eyes about before throwing up his hands and bending down to help you.

"I'm trying to get out of the lease, but I have a couple more months left," he complained childishly.

"What about your other friends? Can't you go bother them?"

Jungkook frowned, sticking out his lower lip. The tiny mole underneath winked at you. "You hate me now or something?"

You laughed, standing up with a stacked pile of confessions to Jeon Jungkook. "No, I'm just curious as to why you always come here."

He shoved the rest in your arms, his pile slightly messier than yours. "You live the closest and you're usually home. Plus, you have two computers."

"A laptop and a desktop," you corrected. "Don't you have a laptop?"

"It's easier to borrow yours."

"Lazy."

Jungkook ignored your remark and ticked his silvery-blond head further into the apartment. "Can I borrow it or not?"

You laughed. "Of course. Laptop's on the bed."

He turned and followed the hallway to your bedroom. "Same password?" he yelled, not looking back.

"Obviously."

"Why is it my birth date?" he shouted.

"Because, one, no one will guess it, and, two, you're a dumbass and always forget it."

"I do not!"

"How many times did you ask when the password was Klingon?"

"I don't know your nerdy shit!"

"Do your fucking assignment," you belted down the hall.

Jungkook stuck his head out of your bedroom door and scrunched his nose to make a hideous face at you, holding your gunmetal-colored laptop. You rolled your eyes as he disappeared again. This crackhead. You let out a sigh, walking past the acrylic painting of a blue sky with pink-purple clouds hanging in your living room, flicking through at all the letters addressed to Jungkook.

Surprisingly, you knew what he felt like. With you, it started with inviting one guy over to your place, sucking his dick, and then suddenly a letter appeared. Well, letter was putting it nicely. Dirty napkin with words scrawled with smeared ballpoint pen shoved under your door, explicitly asking for more. Then another, wanting it. Then another, begging for it. You ignored them. At some point, you invited a girl over, ate her out, and then the colorful envelopes started appearing, with cute stickers and neat handwriting.

Mmmhmm.

Why did Jungkook bring them here anyway? To brag? For you to peruse? You spread them out them on your coffee table and tore one open. Read it. Simple confession of love, no name. You were kind of jealous. Jungkook always got nicer ones than you did. Something about being a sexually uninhibited woman seemed to translate to others that you were down to fuck anyone, anytime, anything. You tossed the letter aside, ripped open a folded card closed with lilac tape. Another, 'I love you, please go out with me', no name. Toss. And you opened another one, reading out loud.

"I want to cram all one hundred and seventy-nine centimeters of you into me?”

Uh.

Huh.

Still no name.

Cute peach stationery though.

Was it a euphemism? Symbolic? Thinly veiled code? Hm. In any case, this was more along the lines of shamelessness you encountered yourself.

By all conventions, Jeon Jungkook was attractive as fuck. Pretty pink lips, big brown eyes, manly sharp jawline. He kept his hair on the longer side, around ear length, now silvery-blond compared to the usual black. You heard he dyed it a couple times, but now it had since faded to the original blond.

Oh, yeah, also he had nice hands and a body to die for.

You could see why Jungkook got all these love letters. You? Well, similar reasons, except less muscles. Also, yours weren't really love letters. More like vulgar remarks on the backs of grubby receipts.

Probably just as heartfelt.

The only reason you knew of Jungkook was because you were friends with one of his close friends. Alright, maybe you sucked his friend's dick. More than once. But anyway, not the point. The point was that the topic of love letters came up one night when everyone was hanging out and you voiced your predicament. It was the summer before Jungkook entered university. He had burst out laughing, thinking it was a hilarious situation.

"Haha, that would never happen to me!"

Jokes on you, Jungkook, karma's a bitch.

You thought about moving, but the location was close to your work and the internet service was great here. At least you always recycled the paper. What were you supposed to do? Keep an album of Starbucks napkins of people asking if your tongue was good or not?

You opened another envelope addressed to 'sweet, adorable Jungkookie'.

Their words, not yours.

"Shove your dick down my throat and make me gag? Smiley face?"

Well, that's a contrast.

Jungkook didn't start contacting you on his own until the letters started coming and then they didn’t stop coming, flooding his mailbox and underneath his door, overwhelming and confusing him. He didn't think he would get much attention, although perhaps it might be your fault, since you seemed to have set the precedence for this type of thing at this particular university. There was at least one person in every year that got this treatment, and it all started with one dirty napkin with smeared ink. Rumor caught on and then bam! It became a thing.

So, yeah.

Maybe kind of your fault.

You shouldn't have told so many people about that napkin.

You fished out a pizza receipt from the pile, inspecting it. You couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. Then you noticed it had Jungkook's phone number and an order of three pizzas. Not a confession, just trash from Jungkook's backpack. Did he really eat three pizzas? Hopefully not by himself and in one sitting. You noticed the timestamp. Mmm, three in the morning. Okay. Maybe he did eat three pizzas by himself in one sitting.

You filed through the rest, removing trash from the recyclable paper. Paused when you found a scrap of paper that said, "Put your dick in my ass." You recognized this curvy, narrow handwriting, slightly heavy-handed. Same person wrote you the same note this week.

This was why you didn't take the messages too seriously.

You saw a particularly thick purple envelope and picked it up, tearing it open. It was several pages, with tiny, crammed handwriting on paper with cute bunnies on it. Several pages detailing straight up porn with Jungkook as the leading role.

You almost burst out laughing.

Who the fuck would write this?

And send it to him?

Not you, that's for fucking sure.

Still, it wasn't the worst thing you've ever read. Had some spelling mistakes and poor grammar. Instant turn-off. Needed a good proofread. You settled onto your brown leather couch, highly entertained as you read it. Then you actually burst out laughing, because said person wanted Jungkook to lift them and fuck them at the same time and that kinda shit just wasn't possible. You would know, because you’ve tried. It sounded good, but in practice, the dick ended up falling out pretty quickly if the pussy was any sort of wet.

If you weren’t wet, then, eh, not sure why you're fucking.

"What is so fucking funny?" Jungkook grumbled, poking his head around the corner, still holding your laptop.

You held up the sheets of bunny-printed paper, still laughing. "Someone sent you their written erotica and you're the star!"

Jungkook grimaced. "Oh yeah, that person. They write something new every week. It's weird." He frowned. "I try to take it out so you don't have to read that shit. I must have missed it."

"It's hilarious," you chuckled. "You should publish them into a book."

"You know I can't do that," Jungkook sighed, putting your laptop on the coffee table and snatching the pages from you. "I throw them away like everything else."

"Did you finish your assignment?" you chortled, leaning over to look at the laptop screen. Submission successful. "80%?! When you could easily cheat?"

"I read a question wrong," Jungkook whined, balling up the paper and throwing it down. "Ack."

You looked up at him and he was looking upset at the pile on the table.

"What's wrong?"

"What if one of them is real?"

"Huh?"

"I mean... I just throw them away now. But what if one of them is real?" Jungkook wondered out loud.

You shrugged. "Does it matter? They'll tell you in person if it's that important."

Jungkook tilted his head at you doubtfully. "Will they?"

You sat back into your couch, with your legs wide open. You were wearing sleek black leggings and a cropped pink sweatshirt. Not the most ladylike pose, but you didn't really care. You gestured to the stack of letters on your wooden coffee table.

"They should. If they actually like you and it's not a joke, then they should tell you in person and accept that they might be rejected."

Jungkook frowned and slumped down next to you. His light-wash denim jacket made a loud floof as his ass hit the brown leather cushions. The wash of his jeans matched his jacket. He wore a white graphic t-shirt under. It looked vintage, but it probably wasn’t.

"What if they're nervous?" he questioned, twisting his pink lips around.

"So what? Everyone's nervous. We all live in a perpetual state of terror."

Jungkook rolled his eyes.

You leaned forward and plucked a sky-blue memo note from the table, reading it out loud. "I love you. Marry me." You held it out to him. "See? You get nice ones. I get, ‘choke me like you hate me’ and 'shove your tongue into my asshole, please'. Rarely do I get is that please at the end," you finished with a dry laugh. You looked up to see Jungkook staring back at you. Your laugh died a little seeing his serious expression.

"Yes."

You blinked at him. "What?"

Jungkook ticked his chin to the note, then shifted his eyes to you.

You pointed to the memo sheet and raised an eyebrow. "I didn't write this."

"I did."

He was so serious that you couldn't laugh. You just blinked at him rapidly and turned your head to look at the sky-blue memo sheet, finally recognizing the clean, block-like handwriting and spotting the bottom right corner. English letters. A J and a K fused together, the way Jungkook usually signed his paintings.

You dropped the note like it was on fire.

Jerked your head up, not to him, but to the painting across from you in the living room, the one with the blue sky and pink-purple clouds, with a tiny JK signature in black at the bottom right corner. The painting you asked Jungkook to make you a while back.

"You paint, right? I want something calm for my living room. I bought a canvas, so about this size. It's that cool?"

Jungkook had squinted his eyes, nodding. "Yeah, I could draw a pretty big dick on it."

"This is for my living room, dumbass. And I said I wanted something calm."

"A flaccid dick then."

You turned your head back to Jungkook of now, who was wringing his hands on his thighs, wiping off his palms. He noticed you watching him and puffed one cheek before letting out a big sigh.

"I was... gonna leave it on your laptop," Jungkook mumbled, flapping a hand to the sky-blue note. "But I couldn't find it in my backpack, and then I realized one of the pockets was open, the one where I keep receipts... anyway I had put the note there, so I came out to see if it was in the pile... yup, there it is."

He sucked in his cheek and fell back against the leather sofa.

"Was a joke."

Jungkook's voice sounded hollow. Empty.

"... Ah." You tucked the tip of your tongue in your cheek.

"Not the greatest joke," he added flatly.

“No, it’s not,” you agreed. "Jokes that are insincere are bad jokes."

The black words glared back up at you, contrasting the pale azure paper. You picked up the memo sheet again. Turned to face him, holding it up next to Jungkook's head of silvery-blond hair. He pursed his lips and looked away from you, jaw clenched in nervousness.

"Just say it."

He puffed one cheek again. "It was a joke."

"Then why are you saying it in past tense?"

His brown orbs shifted from side to side before Jungkook tried to bolt out of his seat, only for you to slam a hand down on his shoulder and throw a leg over him, straddling his lap before pinning the note to his chest. He yelped sharply and looked up at you with huge, shaking irises.

In all your time knowing him, you never tried to sleep with Jungkook.

Never.

You jabbed the note into his white shirt and he gave you a terrified squeak in response.

You scrutinized his face, jaw slack, eyes wide, blond curls framing his chiseled cheekbones. One of your eyebrows raised, your voice calm and unfazed.

"Say it."

"You say it," Jungkook finally shot back, furrowing his brows, biting on his lip and mustering up the most indignant look he could produce at this very second. You didn’t react. He seemed to have forgotten you did, in fact, say it, although perhaps that wasn’t exactly what he meant.

You never tried to fuck Jungkook because he didn’t treat you as anything more than his primary source of internet when his own was down. Ah, and also his outlet for complaining about his love letter problem. And then there was that other little wrinkle, the unwritten societal rule one of sucking a guy's dick you're still friends with - don't suck his friends' dicks. Surefire way to fuck up a friendship, especially if the dude’s ego was fragile.

Jungkook’s friend was dating someone else now though. His ego couldn’t be that fragile.

You leaned forward and Jungkook's annoyed gaze faltered. He gulped and tried to shrink into your brown leather couch, as if he could somehow disappear under you.

"I love you," you stated clearly and firmly. You glanced at the slightly crumpled piece of blue paper before your eyes flickered back to his face. "Marry me."

Hah, the thing about rules with you was...

Fuck 'em.

Not actually.

Eh, not the point.

"Really?" Jungkook squeaked, voice cracking slightly.

Ah, right, the other reason you never tried to sex up Jungkook because he was a little bit of an idiot around you. But maybe this sky-blue note detailed the reason for it.

"Say it," you repeated crossly, poking him in the pecs. "Stop avoiding it."

You observed Jungkook swallow hard again, Adam’s apple bobbing. You furrowed your brows, tipping your head down so that your forehead was hovering over his, eyebrow cocked, gazing into trembling brown orbs. Why was he taking so long? He wrote the damn words. Were they really just a joke? Hmph, why were you even trying then?

That’s how everyone was.

Not putting any stock or thought into their fucking words.

You lifted your finger but Jungkook’s right hand, the one with tiny tattoos, suddenly darted in your view, grabbing your hand back and jamming your finger onto his chest again. His heartbeat raced under your fingertip, thud-thud-thud, rapid bass accenting the moment. Electrifying it.

“Don’t.”

Whisper so faint you frowned and closed even more distance between you two, picking up the scent of vanilla fabric softener and lush cotton. A little different than you, who used a blackberry and spiced vanilla perfume.

“I like this,” Jungkook breathed under you, chewing his lip anxiously. You could feel his warm breath tickling your lips and chin with how close you were. You could count his individual eyebrow hairs, even though the eyebrow product he used.

“I… really like this.”

He let go of your hand.

Now you raised both eyebrows.

You slowly uncurled your middle finger, landing it on his chest next to the index. You felt him shiver a little, lips parting. Straightened your ring finger, planting it down. His lashes lowered a little, brown orbs on your face, watching your reaction to him. You could count the moles on his face. The one on his nose. The one on his cheek. The one under his lower lip. The one on his neck. Your pinky slid onto his chest. A wispy moan left his lips, eyelids fluttering, blond strands floating around his head with the little rise and fall of his heavy, tense exhale.

Why is it your birth date?

Take a wild guess, dumbass.

Your fingers abruptly dug into his white t-shirt, crumpling the note and scrunching the graphic up in your fist. He inhaled sharply, head tipping back and lips nearing yours, a whine escaping his throat. You quirked an eyebrow, drawing back slightly, taking in the rich depth of his tan skin, the sensual line of his neck, up to his angular chin and his dangling silver earrings. All of it. His hands immediately came up to grab your wrist and forearm, ensuring you and himself that you wouldn’t let go, the tendons in your flexed wrist right against his large palm.

“Say it, Jungkook,” you demanded. “Say those words with your pretty pink tongue hanging out your mouth for me.”

You watched him obey immediately, tongue sliding out and touching his lower lip, brown eyes framed by his long lashes and hazy with lust.

“I love you,” Jungkook breathed, a little gargled with his tongue out. “Fucking marry me, please.”

Ah, you couldn't help it.

You smirked.

"What about all your admirers?" you murmured, twisting your fingers in his shirt, digging your nails into his chest. "You'll break all those poor hearts you’re worried about."

Those dark brown eyes told you they didn't give a single fuck.

"What about you?" he countered, closing his mouth a little to speak more clearly.

"Me?"

The definition of trouble?

Well, if you looked that up in a dictionary, there would definitely be a picture of you.

Jungkook’s lips parted once more, keen to submit to your wickedness, pink tongue slipping out again, shiny and glistening with saliva. Breathing shallowly, rubbing your wrist with his thumb, encouraging you to keep going.

Your lips curved into a treacherous smile.

"I'll break all the hearts to get to yours, Jungkook."

And then you licked his tongue.

A low moan bubbled from Jungkook's chest, his eyes rolling back and his hips bucking up, desperate for friction as the tip of your wet muscle glided over his warm softness, your spit dripping down his throat, listening to his moans turn into messy garbles of your name, begging you, pleading you, more, more, kiss me, please, and you hooked your tongue around his, gently nudging his jaw with your other hand. Knuckle to chin, tilting your head as your lips closed onto Jungkook's.

It was not a neat kiss.

There was spit running down his chin, dripping onto his neck and your skin, your lips roughly working his, tongues intertwined and making even more of a mess, you sucking forcefully to earn pained, delicious whines. Jungkook was far too turned on to attempt to glamorize it, cries a jumbled mess under your greedy mouth, but none of that mattered. The moment was sensual and dark, bodies speaking to each other through dopamine and adrenaline. Your hand released his shirt, breaking his grip, switching to burrowing your fingers into his soft blond hair and running your nails over his scalp, leaving lines of prickling pain to enhance your kiss.

"F-Fuck, oh fuck, yes..."

Your teeth caught his tongue, pulling back and forcing his head to follow. Jungkook made a pained noise, trapped in your embrace, whining as you took him to the brink. You released him swiftly and he snapped backward, blinking hard, trying to reorient himself, but it was impossible, your lips crashing down again, thrusting your tongue into his mouth aggressively, one eye open to witness his fucked-out state, pupils unfocused, long lashes quivering, moaning into your mouth and you inhaling it all, literally taking his breath away.

It started out with a kiss.

How did it end up like this?

It was only a kiss.

You dropped your lower half onto his crotch and Jungkook gasped, breaking the kiss, strings of spit breaking between you two. You smirked wickedly as you felt his hardness trying to escape its clothing jail, his large hands already on your thighs and hips, sinking his fingers into the soft fabric of your leggings, rocking you into him, desperately trying to get some stimulation.

"Please," he croaked, panting for breath, pulling himself up to sitting position, so easy and smooth, fuck, so sexy, and now Jungkook was in your face, pleas on the tip of his tongue pouring out, tempting you, wanting it.

"Please, wanna be yours so fucking bad, seeing all those fucking letters and notes you get, and it pisses me off, it's me, I want it to be me, I want to be yours and I'm telling you to your face."

Whisper achingly hot, deep voice soaked with longing, staring into your eyes with those shaking brown orbs, spinning with emotion like an unstable top, barely enough torque holding it in place and all it took was another spin to encourage it or a gust of rejection to topple it over.

"And you don't even care about mine, you think they're fucking funny, fuck, I can't stand it, let it be me, please..."

His hands running up your sides, grazing against your breasts, and now his hands were in your hair and yours were in his, bringing your face close, the crumpled sky-blue note right between your joined crotches, forgotten, witnessing the agonizing lust wound tightly in this embrace.

"Let it be me," Jungkook begged.

You licked your lips slowly, scarcely swiping against his. He shuddered, leaning into it, taking whatever crumbs you gave. His long fingers tensed in your hair, yours buried in the dark roots of his.

"You'll have to skip the marriage bit for now," you teased lightly. "I don't think my parents will appreciate you slapping down papers before you finish school."

Jungkook snickered, tucking his tongue in his cheek roguishly. "Can't they understand I have to snatch this ass as soon as possible to make people back off?"

Your hands slipped down to his jaw, fitting it in your palms, his silvery-blond stands wrapped around your fingertips. "They'll back off my door once they hear you screaming my name."

You leaned in, but Jungkook stopped you, brown orbs glittering with mischief to get in one more quip.

"I doubt it," he purred.

Yeah.

Jungkook was right.

Ah, well.

You seized his face and kissed him again, fuck, such malleable lips just pleading to be bitten by you, gazing up his nose and to his beautiful eyes, his soft skin in your hands, clenching his jaw under your power, letting you have it, letting you control it and him. You felt him scramble and throw his denim jacket off, dumping it onto your couch to cup your cheeks with his hands, sighing in satisfaction as you inhaled him. Your tongue lazily traced the outskirts of his lips, hearing the rattle of his beaded bracelets by your ears, amused, knowing they were his good luck charms.

"They bring good luck," he had answered when you saw them for the first time.

You remembered tilting your head at the wooden beads on his slim wrists. "You trying to get your dick sucked or something?"

He had broken out in a loud guffaw. Nudged you with his elbow, cheeky smile on his lips.

"Never gonna say no to getting my dick sucked."

"Mhm, cool, where's my painting of the flaccid dick?"

From then on, you noticed he wore the same wooden, beaded bracelets every time he came to your apartment.

Hmm.

Now, your hands falling from his face, yanking his shirt from his pants, annoyed it was getting caught, and then Jungkook fitted his hands around your ass and lifted you easily, breaking the kiss, a moment for you to bear witness to his arms flexing – holy fuck, that’s sexy – right one covered in tattoos. Images and script, with one catching your eye, a string of words running up the inside of his upper arm. One you recognized because you had those words written on your bedroom wall, on a canvas hanging above your bed. A canvas you made, background a chaotic mess of varying dark red brushstrokes, the black script in the center, written by your hand.

The exact black script with your flourishes and ticks, now tattooed on the inside of his right arm.

Your eyes drifted to Jungkook's face and his naughty smirk, pleased to be found out. Your lips formed the sentence slowly, in awe of his audacity.

"The devil knows my name."

the devil knows my name.

Hung above your bed, where all manner of marvelous sinful acts were performed.

Jungkook grinned deviously. "I saw it. I wanted it on me."

Wanted it on him.

Oh, fuck.

Did he know? Could he guess?

"Who's the devil?" you whispered, smile widening, matching his.

Jungkook reached down, yanking his t-shirt out of his jeans and pulling it up and over his head, revealing the body he sculpted himself, tan skin taut over hard muscle, toned and...

"You're the devil, of course," he snickered.

Yours.

"Ding dong daeng," you sing-songed.

How many people have been on your bed, head pulled back by your hand, blinking hard, trying to read the words on your wall through waves of forced ecstasy? Gasping them out, ending with a question, inquiring for an answer.

The devil knows my name?

And you, leaning forward, haunting whisper in their ears, yes, she does, before pushing their face down into the sheets.

"All those love letters not good enough for you, Jungkook?" you breathed, running your hands over his bare chest, spreading your fingers, letting your exhale out through your teeth. His eyes on you, torso trembling, hairs raising, feeling your nails dance up, up, raking over his collarbones and neck, leaving little pink lines of intensity.

"They're not you," he whispered. His hands brushing over yours, outlining your fingers, eyes darkening as you pushed him back into your sofa, lowering your head. "You, the one they talk about..." Your lips on his hot skin, kissing softly, tongue so slight that it made him whimper. "You, the one they look for..." His voice, deep and rumbling, vibrating your lips, pitching as you bit and sucked, leaving small hickeys. "You, the one whose bed I sit on, wondering who else has been there, wondering why it's not me, when I make myself available to you, so easy to prey on, but you let me be..." Your lips closing around his dark brown nipple, scraping your teeth against it, making him squirm and look down at you, you and your self-satisfied, ravenous smirk.

"I let you read them," Jungkook whimpered, blond strands curled around his cheeks, chest shuddering at your nail flicking his other nipple while your mouth worked the other. "Let you see everything they want to do to me and you still didn't know."

You chuckled darkly. "What's there to know?" you mused, sticking your tongue out and pressing it against the now hard pink-tinged nub, receiving small whines of pleasure as your reward. "It's obvious what you wanted. I was right in front of you. All you had to do was say something."

Jungkook frowned as you sat up, tongue in cheek, half-grinning.

"Look at you."

You crossed your arms and pulled your pink cropped sweatshirt up and over your head, dropping it to the floor. Casually running a hand through the top of your hair to pull it away from your face, gazing down at shirtless Jungkook covered in your red bites, cocking your head with a smirk. He raised an eyebrow, eyes roaming over your figure and the curve of your breasts molded to smooth black satin.

"You look like you eat hearts for breakfast," he murmured, admiration in his tone.

The side of your lips quirked further upwards.

"And yet you wanna love me."

Jungkook grinned. "I don't want to. I already do."

And then he was the one to pull you to him, kissing you hungrily, you immediately turning it into your favor, your pace, his tongue commanded by yours as he unhooked your bra, moaning into your mouth, rubbing your exposed nipples with his palms, unable to do much as you pushed him into the couch again, guiding his tongue down with your teeth and running the tip of yours over his wet muscle once more, trickling saliva into his throat and onto his chin and neck, messy and lewd.

"The devil knows your name," you sighed into his mouth, feeling him knead your breasts, thumbs brushing over your hard nipples, tendrils of pleasure making your skin tingle. "And now the devil takes what she wants."

You saw the sides of his lips curve upwards as you backed up to strip the rest of your clothes, amused at Jungkook eagerly following suit and unbuttoning his jeans.

"Can't wait to flaunt how hot you are?" you laughed, reaching down to the shelf under the side table where a ceramic R2-D2 cookie jar sat.

"Do you think I'm hot?" Jungkook haughtily accused before gawking at your waist to ass ratio, his hands slowing, pants stopped to his knees in his distraction.

You gently took off the head of R2-D2 and plucked a condom from it. Some guy told you once that you couldn't like Star Trek and Star Wars at the same time and you told him to shut the fuck up as you slapped his nuts. He begged you to do it again. You fondly patted R2-D2's head after you fitted it back.

You straightened to see Jungkook on your couch with his hard dick on display.

You looked him dead in the eye. "You think I'd let you borrow my laptop if I thought you were ugly?"

Jungkook broke out of his trance and shrugged, finally yanking his calves – holy shit, his calves and thighs were muscular as fuck – out of his jeans, underwear and socks gone with them.

"Maybe you pitied my grades."

"I'd just pay for you to go to the library and fuck off, dumbass," you muttered, pushing his hands aside and ripping the condom open, drinking in the delicious sight of his throbbing red cock dripping pre-cum, his balls just waiting for – fuck it, you got down on your knees and wrapped your tongue around his length, Jungkook sputtering and gasping at your suddenness. Fuck, he smelled and tasted fucking good, clean and velvety to your lips enclosing around the head and sliding down, using one hand to scoop up his balls. Made eye contact with him again.

Jungkook breathed your name hesitantly.

Your tongue slid out of your lips and you jammed his cock all the way down your throat, slathering his balls wetly with your whisking tongue, circling around one and then the other, long expansive strokes that went past the girth of his cock, your pink tongue visible to him. Jungkook's pupils blew wide with shock, moans catching in his throat, whole body shivering, trying desperately not to look away even through you could tell he wanted to throw himself into your sofa and fucking lose it.

"Oooooooh, fuck, that's amazing.... Holy shit, your tongue is everything...."

You chuckled and pulled your head back, satisfied with his reaction. He seemed slightly disappointed until you rolled down the condom, cracking your neck.

"I think I've given enough." You stood up, getting back on top of him and his glorious thighs. "Time for you to be taken."

Jungkook smirked.

You smirked wider and more wickedly.

The sky-blue memo was crumpled into a ball, fallen to your hardwood floor.

Held him with two fingers, ugh, the weight of his cock, fuck yes, and those beautiful dark chocolate eyes, Jungkook, you dumbass, cursing that he didn't tell you sooner so that you could watch him groan and throw his head back like he was right now, gasping at your tightness, your name torn from his throat as you took in every centimeter of him, every pulsing vein and contour of his wonderful cock, stupid Jungkook and his attractive self not using his damn words so you could ride him like you were right now, setting up a fast, bruising pace. Your fingers dug into the back of the couch as you bucked your hips into his violently, keeping yourself tight because you were so fucking wet, fuck, so wet for Jeon Jungkook and his idiotic self, asking for internet to do his school assignments and not asking for his dick to be used as your fucking joystick.

Dumbass.

"Oh fuck," Jungkook gasped. "Oh, fuck, you're so wet and tight, shit, shit, shit..."

"Tell me something I haven't heard before," you chuckled, only half-meaning it, waving your entire body to deliver a particularly hard smack to his crotch, Jungkook whimpering under you, his hands flying to your upper arms and clutching them, trying to hold on to your wildness.

"Holy fuck, you have some hard biceps," he blurted out, startled at the prominent muscle.

Well, you haven't heard that one before.

"Guess that's what happens when you jack off a lot of dick," you mused nonchalantly.

You ticked your head to Jungkook's arms – delicious – and he frowned at you, opening his mouth to protest and you cut him off by shoving two fingers into his lips, pressing them down into the wet warmth, grinning maniacally as you watched him struggle with your fingers rubbing his tongue and his cock getting assaulted by you aggressively slamming your hips down and clamping around his stiffness, tighter, faster, whines of your name in his throat, head falling back onto the couch with a flump. You were careful not to push your fingers too far.

Getting vomited on wasn't really on your sexual activities bingo card.

Jungkook was, however, drooling down his chin and neck, and you pulled back to grab his shoulder with your wet hand – oh, fuck, his shoulder, what a lovely shape – and Jungkook wheezed for breath, you ignoring it as you focused all your energy on fucking the life out of him, dirty squelches and smacks of hips on hips, staring down at his abs and v-line, all his hard work at the gym on display, his hands still on your upper arms as he raised his hips to meet yours, needily moaning for you to destroy him with your pace.

Damn, maybe you would have sent him a love letter if you had seen him naked at least once.

"A-Ask me to cum for you," Jungkook finally got out, voice hoarse from breathing so hard for so long.

"You're going to anyway," you taunted.

"Want you to ask," he whined, almost pouting. "Tell me to do it."

You gazed into his eyes, into those brown irises overtaken by black pupils, him a top spinning by your hand, your plaything commanded by your body, pussy clenching around his twitching cock, spurred on from his pleading tone, giving him a devious and wicked grin, speaking to his swollen lips, the devil knows your name, Jungkook, and him moaning back, fuck yes she does, so close, so fucking close, unashamedly barreling towards your release, power in your veins and under you, his muscles rippling as he fucked you back, amplifying every thrust.

"Jungkook."

"Y-Yes?"

"Say it."

Brown eyes locked with yours.

"I love you. Marry me."

You smirked.

"Cum for me."

A half-second and then you let go, letting the feeling rush in and envelop you, the moment held back to torture him, and now you felt it all, already at the tipping point, strained moan as your orgasm crashed into you, shudders all over and falling, sitting all the way down in his lap to experience the throbbing ache of your core giving out and spilling onto his cock and balls in rapid bursts, viscous and sweet. The scent of sex mixing with blackberry and spiced vanilla, his length jerking inside you, and only then did you hear Jungkook crying out your name over and over, the roar in your ears fading out to his shivering moans, hands sliding up and down your arms, eyes closing and lost in the pleasure of your pussy squeezing out his cum. His touch travelling down to your waist, pulling you to him.

Messy, soft kisses, your name and curses mixed together.

"It's me, right?"

You smiled into his mouth that was still asking questions.

"Please let it be me. You'll let me love you for real, right?"

Pushing your hair back, his sweaty blond locks sticking to your face.

"Because I already do, can't stop, won't stop–"

"Yeah, Jungkook, funnily enough I figured that from the first kiss already," you chuckled, running your fingers through his ash blond hair and pulling his head back lightly, seeing him pout, the mole underneath his lower lip peeking out.

"But..."

"Hm?"

His voice suddenly small, vulnerable, his semi-hard dick still inside you.

"Do you love me?"

You lifted a brow. "What kind of dumbass question is that?" You grabbed his arm and pressed your nail into his tattoo of your words, drawing a pink scratch under them, making him gasp. "How can I not love you? Fuck, that's the sexiest thing I've ever seen, my handwriting tattooed onto you. Yes, I love you, Jungkook."

Jungkook's jaw dropped.

This fool is still shocked after all this?

You reached down and held the condom down as you lifted yourself off, yanking him to his feet, pushing Jungkook to your coffee table, right in front of the pile of letters with his name all over them. You picked up your laptop and pushed it onto his chest, forcing him to hold it, him still confused, mildly stunned, not knowing what the fuck was happening.

Then you made him half-straddle your coffee table and yanked off the condom.

"Um–"

Grabbed his cock and started furiously jacking him off.

"Oh, f-fuck!"'

And then he realized what you were doing, the sheer wrongness of it, getting harder and harder with every second, throbbing in your hand.

"You're just like them," you chuckled through exerted breath.

Faster, rougher, tighter, Jungkook clutching your laptop, his larger frame leaning against yours, head thrown back so far that his blond hair was brushing your shoulder, moaning lustfully as he thrusted his hips into your grip. White pooled onto the purple-red tip of his abused cock, far too sensitive to be jacked off this hard right after orgasm, but Jungkook begged you not to stop, streams of residual cum running down your slicked fingers.

"Always looking for your fix from the addiction that's me," you whispered into his ear, laced with an authoritative growl.

You saw Jungkook's head lower out of your periphery, eyes opening, staring at the colorful envelopes with his name printed on them, the cute stickers and neat handwriting, panting your name, tendons and veins standing out on his neck, sweat beading on his tan skin.

A low, dangerous chuckle rising in his throat.

"There's a difference between them and me."

You felt his cock twitch in your hand, ridiculously hard at what you two were about to do.

"They're not going to get their fix."

Jungkook shuddered against you, jerking his hips forward, thick white strings splattering all over the pastel paper as you watched, fascinated, the scent of his cum saturating the air and the envelopes, drops soaking and smearing the carefully written ink, time wasted and defiled.

"I am," he moaned, twisting his body on your arms, leaning down to kiss you hungrily as you squeezed his cock, draining it all out, all over your coffee table and coating your hand, stained with Jeon Jungkook's love letter to you.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut

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levbug · 4 years

Note

FBI OPEN UP, UR UNDER ARREST FOR BEING WONDERFUL AND AMAZING!!💞💞🔫U may not know me and I may not know u, but it's Thursday [Check my pinned post to fully understand🙃😊😔🔫] I'm gonna scare everyone aight– anywaYS, if u r taking request, how about nekoma and shiratorizawa with a foreign manager? If u can do it, have fun writing!!💞💞

hi!! omg thank u for deeming me fit for ur surprise request game!!! im 🥺🥺!! my requests aren’t open but i decided to do this because,,,,im soft for shiratorizawa </3 (i didn’t end up doing nekoma but i hope this is still okay!) thank you for taking the time to request btw!!!

#pairing ー shiratorizawa x gender neutral! reader (platonic)

#warnings ー none uwu

#wc ー 1.1k

▪ oh, you're in for a wild ride with these guys

▪ they will bombard you with questions about your culture and language

▪ and by they, i mostly mean tendou :/

▴ he'd probably just ask you to teach him curse words and stuff tho </3

▴ oh tendou, you silly goose! *80s laugh track intensifies*

▪ it wasn't that the others were disinterested in you, because they totally are! you're their manager and they love you like family! most of them just preferred to question you when you weren't busy :(

▴ of course there are times when their curiosity ends up getting the best of them and they ask you during practice and you answer and oh, look, now they're all sitting cross-legged on the gym floor, eyes gleaming with interest

▴ coach washijo ended up walking in on that and gave you a long, harsh lecture on your duties as a managers as the boys did 40 rounds of their punishment conditioning :((

▪ anyways </3

▪ since you came from a foreign country, your social norms and way of living is (probably) different from that of the boys, in whom none have ever left japan's soil

▴ tbh they were probably confused when they saw you greet someone with like,,,a kiss on the cheek or a good ol' pat on the back despite you not really knowing them.

▴ deadasss goshiki almost combusted when you first greeted him with a hug </3 he was so flustered you swore you had seen blood slowly trickling down his nose :<

▪ as i said earlier, they're all really interested in knowing about your culture! but they're all interested in different areas, i think.

▪ tendou would be interested with pop culture stuff

▴ like all the celebrities (so he can simp for them LMAO) and all the tea ☕ and stuff idk i feel like he's just into the gossip </3 (becos same HAHAH)

▪ shirabu would bug you less, but he'd still love to hear when you'd talk about this one medicine your country had discovered or a medicine that's illegal in japan but available in your country

▴ + shirabu heart points if you bring him some so he can study it and be a big nerd </3

▴ (i don't think it's canon that shirabu likes studying medicines and their compositions and stuff but i like to think he does </3)

▪ i think reon would know the most about you though???

▴ he has no specific area of interest, but he knows the most because of your weekly tea times </3 he's even picked up on a few words in your mother tongue by listening to you speak

▴ also he TOTALLY doesn't find your accent endearing </3 no not reon not ever </3

▴ and he TOTALLY doesn't just *heart squeeze* when you mispronounce something or make a grammar mistake beCAUSE IT'S JUST TOO CUTE OH GOSH HE CAN'T HELP IT YOU MAKE HIM HAVE HAPPY TEARS

▪ anyways :D

▪ semi would be interested in the music (i went for such a basic route wOW)

▴ but fr tho he wants to know more about your countries indigenous people and all the instruments and rituals and just know more about the sound of your country (cos he wants to incorporate it into his own music ☠)

▴ like full-on scribbling notes in his tiny little notepad as he nods along to what you were saying, hanging on to each and every word </3

▴ (did i forget to say i love semi? because i love semi !! semi OWNS me for friques sake pLEASE LET ME MARRY HIM)

▪ our lovely libero, mr. yamagata would probably be interested in the food??

▴ if you bring him one of your countries local foods!!!

▴ even if it's street food he's gonna treat it like it came from like,,,a restaurant as fancy as the one in ratatouille

▴ and if you let him have bites of your lunch? ,,,, you might be unintentionally holding yamagata's heart in your hands </3

▪ NEXT IS KAWANISHI!!!

▴ this is so out of order oh my </3

▪ kawanishi probably wouldn't ask you anything tbh? i feel like he'd listen if you spoke about your home country and what it was like there, but he wouldn't bug you about it.

▴ like yeah he wants to know but he wouldn't pester you??? does that english 😭😭

▴ but sneak a peek out of the corner of your eye and you best bet you can see kawanishi listening just as intently as the others as you told them about this one ethnic celebration you had attended

▪ speaking of kouhais, our sweet baby ace goshiki has yet to take a turn!!

▪ he loves to hear about the rich culture of your country! even if he can't understand some things, he still loves listening to you! the shine in your eyes when you speak about all your friends and shenanigans back home, as well as all the traditions and rituals you had experienced was enough to content goshiki. he loved seeing you happy!

▴ (SIMP!!!!)

▪ finally, our king (and captain), mr. ushiwaka </3

▪ he's kind of like reon in the sense that while he doesn't really ask, he knows the most about you

▴ he would listen more intently than reon imo because mr. waka-kun definitely wants to travel the world someday (and maybe even play professionally for another country!), so he'd love to learn about different cultures <33

▴ watch him even try to learn your mother tongue and actually be kinda good at it </3

▪ OH one thing these guys all share in common tho is being interested in your countries volleyball team during olympics season </3

▴if your home country and japan go against each other,,,,well, let's just say it ends in a lot of bets :)

▪ btw if you ever get homesick, you best bet these boys will go out of their way to find the stuff that reminds you of home (even if it's something super rare </3) and surprise you with it

▴ uhh,,,there's probably some stuff that doesn't even seem like it came from your country (or japan, for that matter) but tendou thought it looked cool so he got it for you ://

▪ it's also pretty fun during everyone's birthdays :))

▴ you cook them some popular dishes that your mother had learned from her mother and wATCH THEM ALL SWOON FOR YOU AND YOUR COOKING!!!!

▪ you own their hearts tbh </3

▪ but that's all good tho :))

▪ cos shiratorizawa's volleyball team owns your heart too :))

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dionysus-and-the-bacchantes · 4 years

Text

tips for classics majors

from a second-year classics major. i’ve acquired these tips from my seven years of being a latin student and one year of ancient greek.

this post can be helpful for classics majors or people interested in self-teaching the classics. my concentration within my major is language and literature, so my tips will revolve around latin and greek. but if you’re studying any other ancient or modern language, my tips may still apply to you :)

~ make word associations. this is a BIG one. there are many nuances to this tip, so to start, i’ll explain why associations are useful, and then i’ll give several examples with different variations to cover the nuances.

since many english words, prefixes, and suffixes are derived from both latin and greek, take the time to figure out one or two english words that come from each new word you learn - these can either be normal everyday english words or pop culture references. (also, latin is semi-derived from greek, so you can make associations between the two languages as well). if you learn any kind of word association, it will make remembering the word so much easier.

examples:

pop culture: pane, which means bread in latin, is related to The Hunger Game’s city of Panem (panem is the accusative singular of pane). food insecurity is a big theme in The Hunger Games, therefore Panem is an appropriate name for the city that the series takes place in.

latin/greek to english: in latin, vicina is an adjective meaning “close, neighboring,” and its english derivative is “vicinity.” in greek, παιδευω means “i teach” and its english derivative is “pedagogy” - aka “a method/practice of teaching.” κριτης means “judge” and its english derivatives are “critic, criticize” and “critical.”

greek to latin to greek: sometimes it’s tricky to find out which word came from which language first, but usually it’s greek to latin. example: dea (“goddess” in latin) comes from θεα in greek.

think of those word associations as you learn your ancient language vocab. it will make recalling a word’s meaning so much easier.

anD DON’T FORGET TO LEARN THE GENDER AND THE GENITIVE SINGULAR OF EACH NOUN YOU LEARN BECAUSE IT HELPS WHEN DECLINING THE NOUN AND MATCHING IT UP WITH ADJECTIVES LATER ON OH MY GOD thiS IS SO IMPORTANT

~ make a concentrated effort to remember lots of different sentence constructions. there are so many i literally don’t remember them all and i’ve been doing this for years. the major categories i can think of off the top of my head are subordinate clauses, conditionals, and indirect discourse, and, more generally, learn the difference between the primary and secondary verb tenses.

~ every so often, brush up on as much grammar and vocab as you can. i’m saying this because i’ve procrastinated reviewing greek all summer and i barely remember anything beyond the basics :/ pls don’t tell my professor.

~ learn authors’ common themes and literary/rhetorical devices. for example: in the elegies of propertius, a roman poet, he used emptiness and unfulfilled wishes as motifs. learning words associated with emptiness and learning how to recognize the introduction of a wish made translating faster. i’ll confess though that i never really brushed up on the use of the optative subjunctive (the device used in wish statements), so i couldn’t recognize how exactly to translate certain sentence constructions. if i did review, it would have made translating in class a breeze. but hey, it was my first semester in college and i had no idea what i was doing at that level. please learn from my mistake!

~ learn the political, cultural, and historical context of each piece of literature you read. it will make the experience richer. if you know the context of a fiction piece, whether its poetry or prose, you will understand so much more about it. for example: the aeneid, vergil’s masterpiece (and arguably one of the best works in latin literature), is an ode to augustus. augustus commissioned vergil to write the aeneid and to make comparisons between himself and the protagonist aeneas. he wanted people to see him like they saw aeneas - kind, pious, loyal, determined, and in charge. knowing that bit of information makes many parts of the aeneid clearer. you can apply this tip to any piece of literature, no matter the language.

this is also important in terms of non-fiction writing. i took a class on roman letter writers and i would’ve been completely lost if my professor didn’t share anything historical with us. these letter writers typically vaguely referenced local gossip because messengers often read letters that were meant only for the recipient’s eyes. my professor filled in a lot of what was missing from the letters themselves.

~ have fun with it. learning languages is supposed to be fun!! of course languages enrich your mind and bring you into close contact with other cultures and ways of life, but it is supposed to be fun too. example: propertius once wrote a whole poem about knocking on his lover Cynthia’s closed door while she sat inside... and the door was a metaphor for her vagina.... which means propertius was h0rny on main!! and he published that in a poem!!1! for people all over rome to read!!!!

in terms of plays, my friend read one in latin by plautus about a prostitute who subverts the traditional roles associated with customer-prostitute relationships. he absolutely loved it bc the main character was a bad b!tch... and bc it was a comedic play.

there are lots of metaphors and jokes written within latin and greek literature, so don’t be afraid to laugh :) it makes learning that much more enjoyable

~ when reading a work of literature, ask yourself what this reveals about the author’s culture. (suicide tw: mentions of su*cide as a plot point in tragedy) this tip is kinda related to the cultural context one, but different in that it looks for culture within literature, rather than looking at literature as a product of culture. and like the previous tip, you can apply this to any piece of literature no matter the language it is in. it’s important to think deeply a piece of literature as well as enjoy it for what it is. example: i’ve read most of sophocles’ plays and i can tell you that the greeks were very comfortable with suicide as a plot point. while murder is also common, suicide is much more common no matter the tragedy. the fact that this theme occurs throughout so many plays tells me that greeks viewed suicide as a tragic occurrence that affects people deeply, but also as a common way to die. it raises questions: what percentage of deaths were attributed to suicide in ancient greece? was it viewed as honorable or shameful? etc.

and going back to vergil yet again (he’s my homeboy fr), when writing about dido and her people building the city of carthage, he specifically mentions that they are building the theaters first before almost any other building - and these few lines implicitly state that the arts were very important to carthage’s culture as a whole.

~ to sum it up: as a classics major, if you are intentional about learning the languages and truly engaged with the literature, the process will be that much more fun and you will gain that much more out of it. (<- and that sentence has a future-more-vivid construction by the way hehe)

#dark academia #classics #college #tips #study tips #language tips #latin #Greek #college advice #language advice #latin tips #greek tips #literature

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onionsoop · 3 years

Text

Regrets /// Oikawa x nb!reader

Summary: After the last day of school you go over to Oikawa's house and start to talk about all the things you regretted not doing in high school. During that time though you confess to him after he pesters you about who you were interested in.

Length: 2.1k

Tags: Fluff, Childhood Friends, Kissing

Author's Note: Heyo, this is just some silly Oikawa fluff I decided to write cause I wasn't really in the mood to write smut these past few weeks. I might add more parts to this, but for now I'm working on Part 2 to the Nanami fic. Anyways, sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes and enjoy :)

The clink of ice in a glass sounded from the other room. You let out a long sigh, closing your eyes, letting the buzzing from the cicadas outside fill your mind. Warm sunlight beamed in from the sliding glass door, lighting up his bedroom and falling across your legs.

It was the last day of the school year. The last day of school before you headed off to college. It had been a long and twelve years, filled with some of the hardest work you had ever done, but now that it was over you felt was a slight sadness. Thinking about what you had ahead of you felt overwhelming and you just wanted to spend your time enjoying this last summer break to its fullest.

The sound of footsteps approaching from the kitchen made you open your eyes, turning your head to look at him as he entered the room. Casual as ever, Oikawa entered the room holding two full glasses of lemonade and smiling at you. Oikawa, your neighbor and childhood friend since you were seven-- looking at him now felt no different than it had when you first met. Despite the fact that he had grown twice as tall and now had his hair styled in those perfect waves the cocky look on his face had remained the same. You followed his movements with your eyes as he set one of the glasses down next to you on the floor before sitting down with a heavy sigh, admiring the way the muscles under his shirt moved.

“So, how long until you leave?” he asked, staring out the window into the garden in front of you.

“Two months. I’m leaving for Tokyo a month early to get set up,” you said dismally. Thinking about how little time you had left made a shiver run up your spine. It felt like there was a foot on your back pushing you to move on while you still held on to the last scraps of your childhood.

“Any closer to deciding on what you’re going to do?” you asked, shifting your eyes over to look at him. He was sprawled out on the floor, back resting against the side of the bed and lemonade glass in hand, slowly swirling the liquid inside. He shook his head, a slight, sad smile forming on his lips in response. Both of you felt the same way about high school ending-- you knew it was unavoidable but neither one of you liked the implications it held and the future it brought.

“Did you make sure to pick up all your equipment? You know Matsukawa was annoyed last year when you forgot your uniform,” you said, nudging his shoulder, trying to liven up the conversation. His eyes flicked over to you, giving you a fake exasperated look that contrasted the smile on his face.

“Of course, of course, Iwaizumi pestered me about it endlessly, there was no way I could forget,” he said, nudging you back a little harder.

“Say, why didn’t you ever join the team? You were always so invested in all of my games and practices.” You fixed your gaze back on the garden in front of you, feeling the jovial mood in the conversation seep out of the atmosphere as memories of things you missed out on flooded into your mind.

“I’m not sure,” you said truthfully, “I guess I was just too busy. I wish I had.” Oikawa nodded, letting out an “mmm” in response.

“Well, it doesn’t matter too much, I’m sure you’ll have a chance in college,”

“Probably, doesn’t feel the same though. I know it stupid but it feels like high school is the time when you’re supposed to do things like that. Makes it seem like I missed a lot of opportunities,” you said quietly, sadness seeping into your tone.

“I doubt that, you were always a hardworking student so if anything you just prepared yourself more for the future. Things like clubs aren’t important,” Oikawa said, trying to lighten the mood. Even though he was usually able to distract you and cheer you up, you still felt the weight of your future still pressing on your emotions.

“I feel so left behind though, like I don’t have these core experiences that everyone else does,”

“I don’t think volleyball is that much of a core experience-”

“It’s not just that, there’s lots of stuff-- I was never in any clubs, I never made that cliche friend group you’re supposed to have, I’ve never even had a first kiss! Do you know how embarrassing that’ll be for me to go into college without even a first kiss?” you exclaimed a little louder than you wanted to. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes but you quickly forced them away, returning to your depressed composure. There was no reason to get so emotional. You glanced over at Oikawa who had a surprised but concerned look on his face.

“I… I don’t know, I think this is all just weighing on me cause school just ended. I guess I don’t feel prepared,”

“It’s alright, I understand. I’m sure everything will get better in the next few months though.”

“Yeah, probably... I just wish I could go back and redo things, I feel so much regret…” you said, staring down at your drink, watching the condensation drip down the sides. You felt a little guilty putting this all on Oikawa, but you couldn’t quite shove away the depressing feeling that clung to you. There was an awkward pause and you felt Oikawa shift beside you.

“What would you go back and change?” he asked tentatively, meeting your eyes. You opened your mouth to answer but stopped when you realized you weren’t quite sure. You had never really thought about what exactly you would go and change, it felt like there was never really any point.

“I’m not exactly sure. I guess for starters I would go and join the volleyball team, then maybe try and connect with people more often. I was pretty standoff-ish most of the time wasn’t I,” you said, earning a chuckle from Oikawa.

“Makes sense, what would you do about that first kiss situation though? You seemed pretty distressed about that,” he said, a slight smirk forming at the corner of his mouth. You let out a small laugh, rolling your eyes and feeling heat rush to your cheeks. Out of all the things you felt you missed out on, that was the one you had actually given some thought to.

Over the four years you were in high school, you had multiple crushes on different people, but had never really been able to connect with them. At the current moment though the only one you remembered was the way you had liked Oikawa ever since elementary school. You had tried to build up the courage to confess to him back then, but once middle school hit and he got a girlfriend you buried your feelings as much as possible.

“I-I’m honestly not sure. There were a couple people I was interested in but I’m not sure anything would have ever really worked out with them.” You averted your gaze from him, trying to hide the blush forming on your cheeks, making you miss the intensity in his eyes as he asked you the next question.

‘Oh? Like who? Anyone I know?” he said, leaning forwards with a teasing grin on his face.

“I- I don’t think so, it wasn’t really anyone ever well known,” you said a bit too quickly, trying to blow it off with a slight laugh. You thought about all the times you had wanted to tell him about how you felt. You knew you had wanted to for so long, but was it even a good idea?

“Aw c’mon, can I at least get some names? You shouldn’t hold back information like this from your best friend Y/N,”

“I-... um-...” You couldn’t think of anything to say. The name of every guy you had ever known vanished from your head and the only one left was Oikawa’s. Your mind raced to try and think of something to say but nothing came to you. The room suddenly felt too hot and the noise from outside buzzed in your ears, distracting you from thinking properly.

“I-It’s a secret,” you said, regretting the excuse as soon as it came out of your mouth. Oikawa’s smile quickly dropped to be replaced with an expression that said “seriously?”

“We’re not even in school anymore, how can it be a secret?”

“It- It just is. I don’t want you to know, it’s embarrassing,” you said, becoming more aware of the hole you were digging yourself. There was no way you’d be able to lie your way out of this. The blush on your cheeks had transformed into a crimson shade that ran all the way up to your ears, showing that the words you said were lame excuses if it wasn’t already apparent.

“Come onnnn, it can’t be that bad, just tell me,” he said, poking you in the arm. Oikawa’s prying was becoming harder and harder to manage as you scrambled to find a way out of it. Your mind was barely working and had formed into a mess of pure panic. You wanted to give up and just tell him, but your mind was jumping from pros and cons too quickly for you to choose. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as you tried to answer.

“W-Well… it’s you.”

It felt like everything in the room stilled as soon as you spoke. The panic you felt before almost seemed to enhance and you felt a feeling of regret slam into you. What were you thinking? Your eyes flicked to Oikawa who was staring at you wide-eyed with his lips slightly parted in shock. Your lower lip began to tremble and your palms felt too sweaty where they were in your lap. Every atom in you felt the urge to run, but you were frozen in place. Fuck.

“W-What?” he said, finally breaking the silence.

“I-I’m sorry, pretend I didn’t say anything,” you blurted out, whipping your head back to face the garden. You started staring intently at a bush outside to try and concentrate on anything but the rising fear in your throat.

“You like me?”

“Y-Yeah…”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I-I don’t know, I didn’t think you would reciprocate. W-Which it’s okay if you don’t...” you said, slowly shifting your gaze back to him, searching for any emotion on his face besides the intense stare he was giving you. You felt like your heart was about to pound out of your chest. Finally telling all of him this wasn’t as relieving as you thought it would be. Instead of feeling like a weight was lifted off your chest, being in this limbo had caused you to feel even more crushed by your decision. You closed your eyes and took a shaky breath, trying to calm down.

Faster than you could process, you felt his hand reach up to cup your cheek and his lips press up against yours. Your eyes shot open and you scrambled backwards, pulling away from the kiss.

“W-What are you doing?” you said, eyes wide and staring at Oikawa who was inches from your face.

“I-I’m sorry, I like you too, I thought it would be okay-” You didn’t let him finish his sentence as you slammed your lips back into his. Finally, you felt that wave of relief wash over you. Happiness swelled in your mind. You had to concentrate on keeping the corners of your lips from forcing your mouth into a smile. Your first kiss. Right then and there. It was all you could have ever hoped for and with the guy you had always dreamed it would be with.

You felt Oikawa’s arm move from its place on your cheek to reach around your back. He pulled you closer to him and you wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling his soft hair brush against your fingers. You melted into the kiss, savoring the warmth of his lips against yours.

He pulled back looking into your eyes as you let out an unsteady breath before smiling up at him. You could feel almost every part of you shaking from the adrenaline. You were lightheaded and found it hard to breathe, but you felt like you couldn’t be happier at that moment.

“So… would you like to be my significant other?” he asked, rubbing you back with his thumb.

“Yeah- yes please.” You beamed up at him, letting out a small laugh.

“You sure were surprised at that kiss, huh,” he said, a smirk coming across his features.

“Shut up!”

You gave him a slight push, both of you laughing as he held you in his arms, relishing the feeling of finally being with him.

#fluff #oikawa #oikawa x reader #haikyuu!!#oikawa x you #nb!reader #haikyuu fanfic #oikawa fic #oikawa tooru

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rigelmejo · 3 years

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with input-only study first, output/production done later: how do you improve production skills?

this is a bit of a self discussion, spurred by this vocabulary test: https://href.li/?https://itt-leipzig.de/about-the-vocabulary-tests-2/?lang=en

It got me thinking about how so many input first output later study plans exist, and if output skills actually work ‘that easy’ or if there’s additional study that needs to be put in (and wtf ARE those additional study methods that’s needed?)

anyone who’s learned languages through input first, then waited to output (produce) until later, i’d love to hear your opinions on this?

mass immersion approach/refold/Steven Kaufman (and those with similar study methods) tend to think you get lots of input first, then once you can listen/read with very good comprehension, speaking/writing can be worked on and should be possible with only some grammar/pronunciation issues you can note and correct with a tutor - and that may not happen at all if you ‘only produce stuff you know well’ from input.

well... i’m wondering if in general, that means the ability to know those things well... comes really late? like a year after good comprehension itself late?

i assumed i’d have to work on production skills anyway, since i personally don’t think production skills are quite that easy? Like for french, you can passively understand le/la and une/un for every word but it takes more work to memorize which word they go with. For chinese it takes a lot less work to passively learn to read hanzi then to write them from memory. I would assume this also applies to grammar for me?

And what my current issue seems to be: I can read fine, infer synonyms fine (for where I’m at), follow the main idea fine and locate key info okay, with listening skills improving at a good rate now that I’m working on them. I can produce in the sense I can message in chinese with people. But given a production test - as in “fill in the correct word for these sentences” (not multiple choice but from memory), I cannot do it very well. While I have plenty of practice ‘reading’ those words in their correct general places, I have a hard time recalling from memory what word would fit well in a blank compared to english. (Where if someone said “Let’s go catch the ice ____ truck” in english i’d be able to guess cream is the missing word, I can’t do something like that in chinese). This would be an issue those input-early-on methods don’t cover - what if I have some production skill, but can’t place the right words from memory for the right situations when I am missing a word. In reading, in listening, this is fine as i can compensate and guess and i’m just putting in an english meaning guess in my mind (i’m assuming). But say someone speaks to you, forgets a word, I would not be able to go “oh you mean X?” Like I can with my mom when she forgets a word. I could not pass a production test - the key thing. And if i use words, i’m guessing the rate i use them in ‘weird positions’ is higher. Like using “where’s the brush” for toothbrush, or “i’m going for a stroll” instead of “i’m going for a walk” (just using a less common variant), or “I’m going marching through the woods” instead of “i’m going hiking through the woods.” or “i are tired” instead of “i am tired.” or the ever common mistake i made until high school “i want to go their”, “those people, there nice”, “they’re stuff looks cool.” (i had to read rules to stop messing up their/there, and then/than).

Now i’m wondering what i’d even get on an english production test from the site lol. With u know 26 years practice ToT lol. I know in writing I can do it well if it’s a essay, i ramble in blogs so you wouldn’t know lol. I know in actual spoken conversation though I often make incorrect word slips and have to backtrack, I just...talk fast and my mind recorrects after the fact lol. Update: got 86% on an english production test, and 99% on recognition. So I would say the production test may somewhat depend on your cultural knowledge/what’s normal to the english speaking world the test’s sentences use - I would say as a native english speaker, I can produce language fine but the test may utilize some context sentences I rarely run into. So... the chinese test, I would assume, I’d be some percentage worse simply because of similar issues.

Lets guess 5% worse - since part of learning production is knowing correct context to use words in. So if I knew chinese production skills WELL, 14-15% I’d expect to get wrong (since I got that much wrong in english). Plus maybe another 5% because I’m not as surrounded by all the contexts they might use in the test. So if I were my ‘ideal’ chinese production score, it would be an 80%. I would assume that’s realistic to achieve, if I learned the context words belong in relatively well (as good as I did in english, minus some because without being surrounded by the context I probably would miss more but I shouldn’t miss MANY more or it impedes people’s comprehension of me?).

Well I took the chinese vocab production test. I got 19%. DANG.

So that’s 71% recognition, but only 19% correct context production. This is exactly what I mean when I ask: how does input-only first studying, eventually help output? Because at the moment my output is PAINFULLY LAGGING BEHIND my input comprehension skills. Its lagging by 52%!!

Assuming my production goal is 80%, rather than the 86% I can do in english - I still have 61% improvement I NEED TO MAKE.

Also, if this lagging stays at about the same range behind comprehension skills, then even once I can recognize chinese 99% (equivalent comprehension to my Native Language English), my production skills would be at 47%... that’s not very good... (not bad, but not ‘great production skills’ lol).

So??? Unless at some point in immersion/input learning, you know enough that your inherent production skills jump up? I do NOT see input-based learning to be enough to develop overall production skills.

Also, most people will not WAIT to produce language/output until they’re at 99% comprehension. Most people will be satisfied at a lower comprehension (and if they don’t read novels, which Refold does NOT require, then there’s no chance they’re getting to full 100% comprehension before they start outputting). Most methods that suggest input-only study first, do not make learners wait until they 100% comprehend things to output - they just say to wait 1-3 years after input-only study first. So... how DO you develop production/output skills at that time???

Because... I do not see where the “you’ll naturally have good output skills after a certain level of comprehension” idea comes from. Its not true of me. I’ve studied 2 years, and while on a basic level in some instances I feel I can talk about a variety of subjects (not deeply, but on a conversational chat level). That is it. That’s like A2. And that’s certainly not enough to pass a test requiring high production skills - maybe a beginner test. I’ve studied long enough to start reading books, that does not mean my production skills are equivalent.

I’m curious what people who do input-first methods DO to actually improve production skills when its time. Because... I doubt it comes out almost-fine right away.

Like... if I wait for my comprehension of chinese to be 80% (which is when I’d count on this test as comprehending the 5000 most common words fine, and depending on my reading level may be when I feel I’m mostly satisfied with dropping as much focus on vocab input study - though who knows as I hear 15k vocab needs to be learned for languages with no cognates), If my production skills lag at the same rate they’ll only be at 29%.... that still is probably quite basic expressions.

#rant #may #may progress #article #mia #massive immersion approach #refold #stephen kaufman

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chichirichick · 3 years

Text

SoMa Week Day 2: Healing

Hey, again! First off, I want to actually be proud of myself for a second since I'm posting two consecutive entries for @soulxmakaweek! I never expected my brain would actually allow this, but here's Day 2! Read it on ff.net, ao3, or after the cut!

I have a scar. Hard not to notice since it's hip to armpit, a line that practically killed me. While maybe some guys would love it for the braggin' rights, I think I'd prefer forgettin' it exists. It healed- so why do I have to give it another thought?

…

Shit.

OK, I know I do. I know there's somethin' there, but I'll be damned if I actually want to scratch anywhere past the surface of it.

I have a scar.

Easy to notice.

Hip to armpit.

Didn't kill me, but…

Maybe it sorta did. Or-- man, do I feel stupid saying this, but-- maybe it killed a part of me. Puttin' the rest of that explanation into words sounds as promisin' as havin' my teeth pulled but… here goes:

Maka Albarn is a giant pain in my ass. Has been from day one and has succeeded in doin' nothin' but improvin' on that skill each day of our partnership. 'Cept… at the same time, she is the only reason I'm alive.

That doesn't make any sense- mostly 'cause the reason for that scar is Maka Albarn needin' my protection, needin' me to take a death blow for her and not hesitatin' to do it.

Well, it makes some sense since she was the one that kept me together after. A guy who practically loses his guts doesn't exactly have the mental or physical oomph to feed, clothe, wash, and all-around take care of himself. Maka did that. Stein may have stitched me up, but eatin', drinkin', sleepin', even showerin' was all thanks to Maka. And, for the first time in our entire lives, none of it came with even a breath of complaint or a look other than somethin' close to pitiful from those green eyes.

So I lived because Maka did the heavy liftin'.

But part of me died because Maka did the heavy liftin'.

See, if you look back at that fourteen-year-old Soul who came to DWMA, my general hope is that you'd see a cool guy, but I know the truth. I wasn't anywhere near cool in my own head. Sure, I had the look-- still do-- but if you cracked me open you'd hear the racket. Even before that annoyin' lil' gremlin, I had voices foggin' up my inner workin's. My mom, my dad, my brother- just to name a few. I hated it. I lived with it every step I took and there didn't seem like a way to escape it.

But she killed it.

Guess I should say somethin' nice like "she healed me with her love," but goddamnit is that ever corny, and I'd rather complete that teeth pullin' I mentioned than have her actually hear those words from my mouth.

'Cause it's really fuckin' hard to hate yourself when you got someone who'll drag your ass into the bath if you can't do it yourself or someone who'll sleep with you every night until the nightmares settle. It's even harder to doubt yourself when they're always there tellin' you that you'll make it through, tellin' you that you're more than enough.

That old Soul died with that slash.

The new Soul… guess he just heals a lil' more every day that I'm he's with her.

Maka barely glanced over the composition before she ticked her eyes to him in annoyance. "What is this?"

"Tol' you- it's that stupid paper Marie wanted us to write about 'where we find our strength,'" Soul tried to deliver that with the same enthusiasm he had for laundry day. "You said you'd proofread mine because, and I quote: 'You always mess up your grammar and you're lazy with your main ideas so you always get the same grade.' And heaven forbid lil' Ms. Perfect's weapon get anything other than-"

"I can already tell you that your structure is terrible." She glanced again at the page, not absorbing the words just the awful penmanship and the truncated lines. "You know what paragraphs are, right?"

Soul rolled his eyes. "Maka, just read it."

She only dared another quick peek before leveling a grimace at him. "And are you serious with all those apostrophes?"

"It's how I talk," Soul offered with a shrug.

Maka released an all-suffering sigh before she centered her glare on the first line of the page.

Soul watched her eyebrows wrinkle.

Her mouth gaped and snapped shut again.

Her eyes flicked only a second's worth of attention to him before hitting the paper again.

He tried to relax, slipping his hands into his pockets to keep himself from drumming unsteady beats on his thighs to echo the ones in his heart.

Pink and then red started to drift to the top of her ears.

"Well?" He was eternally grateful that he managed that with impatience rather than one of those boyish, nervous squeaks that were threatening in this throat.

"Y-you-" she was stammering off the word, her eyes still glued to the paper. "You can't use an expletive in a school essay, Soul!"

He sucked his teeth. "Maka Albarn, that's all you got to say to me?"

She waved the paper at him, less a white flag of defeat and more a banner for her cause. "One- fix the apostrophes. I don't care if it's the way you talk- no one writes like that! Two- take out the curses. They seriously have no place in academic responses. And three-" She heaved a breath as she pulled the paper taut, making it hide her face from him. "Three- if you thought this was romantic, you shouldn't have prefaced it with the idea that first and foremost I'm a pain in the ass!"

"A giant pain in the ass," he corrected.

"Soul!" That was a tumultuous mix of tones from the refusal of defeat to the outright embarrassment of having her feelings written so perfectly yet entirely not eloquently.

"You're ruinin' my paper." He moved towards her, hands coming over hers to relax the strain in the page and uncover her face. "So you said you'd correct my mistakes, right? So correct me if I'm wrong, Maka…" His cool was fizzling as he needed to stop to take a swallow in hopes of easing his voice. "I sorta… I'd sorta like to know if I'm wrong about the love part. Like… do I have to fix it to say partners- friends- or…"

"You have to fix it to say you love me too," Maka snapped bluntly.

In vain he tried to catch the giddy little laugh that escaped his mouth, but there was no snatching it from taking flight. "Guess I did forget the main idea."

Maka's face burned while her fingers crinkled the edges, but a wonderful fluttering was starting in her heart. "But that is the main idea, right?"

"Yeah, sorta the whole point of the essay." He tried to shrug it off but the glow on her cheeks was being amplified by the smile that was starting to break through the worry. "So, uh, I guess I'll fix it. I'll just- I should probably just say it plain, right? That I-" Maybe this was the moment his point was proved, looking down at her, holding her hands in his, killing the last little bit of that scared boy who no longer existed. The real wound finally healed. "I love you, Maka."

#soulxmakaweek #SoMaweek2021 #SoMa #Soul Eater

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jamilelucato · 4 years

Text

Faking It || pt. 3 [F.W.]

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader; Fred Weasley x reader.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Hogwarts Masterlist || Part 4

Summary:

You’re a Slytherin dating Draco Malfoy and life is pretty normal until Fred Weasley decides that the best prank against Draco involves you; this won’t end well, will it?

*gif not mine // [y/h/c] = your hair colour; [y/e/c] = your eye colour.

This is a series, so be free to ask if you wanna be tagged.

Warnings: cheating.

Words: 2k+

A/N: Last part comes tomorrow — or at least I hope. This is my favourite one so far, so enjoy!

Tag List: @marvelsmalfoy @naomi02hook @elf-punk @enjoying-fantasyland21 @stuckindilemma @moosewingsimagines @happiestsparkleofall

—

Fred woke up with the brightest smile he could give, and if George hadn't have heard everything that happened the night before, he could've been confused.

That was the case with Ron, who couldn't think of a reason why his older brother was so happy.

"Are gonna prank me?" asked Ron frowning. He and the twins didn't have the best history when it came to pranks.

"Nope," answered Fred without dropping the smile.

Ron exchanged looks with George, who just shrugged, not caring at all.

"You don't wanna know," George informed his younger brother.

The three Weasleys headed to the Great Hall, followed by Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, and even though Hermione seemed quite happy with something she had just discovered, she was not more excited than Fred.

Of course, he was happy! he had all the reasons to be! His plan was finally working; he was at what he called "stage 2", and, from there on, things would only get funnier.

Fred had kissed y/N last night, Draco's girlfriend, and although the snogging truly surprised him — he was not expecting her to be a good kisser at all —, he knew he was now one step closer to his goal. You didn't run away from his touch — at least, not until the very end — and you kissed him back. You also hadn't screamed or slapped him, which he considers positive results.

The smile was still on his face when his eyes met yours from across the Hall. You looked beautiful that morning, as usual, wearing the fanciest and expensive Hogwarts' uniform, but that was not what made his smile fade away.

You were laughing hard at some joke someone had told, holding on to Draco's neck to keep yourself in place, after all, you were on his lap.

The scene made no sense to Fred. Come on now! His kiss did not affect you what so ever? Not even enough for you to feel guilty and, don't know, avoid your boyfriend?

George followed with his eyes to where his brother was looking.

"Oh," he let out. "When you told me about the kiss last night you forgot to mention it was 'the kiss'," he said, confusing Fred even more.

"What do you mean?"

"She's all around Malfoy, practically begging to forget what you two did last night," explained George, tilting his head in your direction.

"I beg to differ," started Fred, "she's showing off how she didn't care about the kiss."

"That's what she wants to display," George smirked, "and I think it might be working."

The twins stared at each other, George practically telling his point of view just by arching his brows. It took a while, but Fred finally understood.

Holding Draco so close wasn't your way of showing that you didn't care about last night — that was your attempt to erase it. You were begging for everything to go back to normal, to avoid your thought about Fred, replacing him for Draco.

Fred sighed, a bit too loud, which scared Hermione, who was sitting next to him. She stared at the boy but could not understand what was going on. Fred was glad she couldn't — it meant his and your plan was working.

However, part of it scared him. You two had opposite intentions, and he knew that, at the end of it all, one of you would end up hurt. He hoped it was not him.

***

Every time you could be with Draco, you were with Draco.

He was going to steal food in the kitchen — you followed. He was going to Quidditch practice — you were in the stands. He had to study — you held his book.

If he thought that was weird, he didn't complain. Draco enjoyed your company a lot, especially for trivial things, things not exclusive related to boyfriend and girlfriend.

He always thought things had happened to fast for you two — but with his father whispering in his ear, he had not much to do except ask you out. Sure, he liked kissing you — you tasted like chocolate most of the time — but he missed the times when there wasn't much pressure around.

You missed those times too — times when you wouldn't receive letters from Narcissa Malfoy, such as the one you had in hands, about how fun will it be when you get married.

"Is it my mom again?" Draco asked, realizing the expression on your face.

"Yeah," you said, dropping the paper over the Slytherin table. "I guess she has... picked my wedding dress?"

Draco took a look at the paper before shivering. "Madwoman," he commented, "I'll talk to her, don't worry."

It had been a week and a half until you faced Fred, both alone in the long hallway. You gulped, as hard as ever, avoiding look into his eyes.

You couldn't understand how he was there in your path — you had been very careful to avoid any place where he could be at, especially if you could be alone, just like now.

The Astronomy Tower you much love to visit was out of your sight ever since the rowdy night. You missed the place, but you knew he could be there as well.

He passed so close to you but did not touch. There was no need, though, because you felt all your nerve endings get agitated.

"Fred," you called his name, your voice just like a whisper. There was no need for a scream, Fred had heard you. He would've heard anyway you called.

He turned his face back at you — his eyes, widened as if he was scared.

"Thank you for..." you gulped, having no idea of how to put it, "for not saying a thing."

He offered you a said smile but said nothing.

"And I'm sorry for dragging you to it," you continued, not wanting to leave. "It was as much as my fault as yours."

You twisted your mouth, regretting the way you sounded.

"It was just my fault," you correct yourself, walking a step over in his direction. "I'm the one dating."

He puckered his forehead and attempted to reach for your hand before dropping the idea.

"I knew the truth and did it anyway," Fred said, "It's my fault too."

His words echoed in the hallway, still very empty. It was a surprise to find a part of the castle deserted, especially at that time — in between classes.

You two stayed in the silence, afraid to say anything else, both just taking the blame.

"Hum..." you looked around the walls, avoiding his eyes, "I gotta go... Potions, you know. Can't be late."

He said nothing after you rambled out loud, so you just turned towards your class, and left, walking a bit to fast for someone who was supposed not to be affected by the red-haired boy.

***

Studying with Pansy Parkson was something you avoided at all costs, but since she asked your help, you had no idea how to say no.

So there were you, sitting around lots of books Pansy had scattered over one of the library tables, trying to make the silly girl write her essay for her History of Magic class.

You were unexpectedly very focused on the reading and collecting data until two red-hairs walked in. Your eyes followed them until they sat down, next to Angelina Johnson, a girl from Gryffindor you knew was dating George Weasley.

"Do you think Professor would like it if I included this?" Pansy asked, calling your attention back to your table.

The girl in front of you showed a passage on her book, and even though you tried to read it, you couldn't understand a word. You knew why — your attention was no longer on the assignment in front of you, but on the three students sitting a bit far away.

However, you couldn't tell that to Parkinson as she was the most gossip girl you knew.

"Yeah, write that down," you said, rushing your eyes back at the Gryffindors.

Angelina had stopped reading whatever book she had in hands, talking animatedly with twins. At that distance, you couldn't be sure, but you were pretty sure Fred was the one on her left.

George seemed to be talkative as well, even using his hands to gesture something. They are up to something, you thought, remembering every time they tried to prank you and Draco. Fred, however, was rather quiet.

"Okay, I think I've got it," Pansy said, handing you the paper where she had written her homework.

You ran your eyes through it, focusing on finding grammar mistakes, but there was none.

"Looks good, Pansy," you complimented and she breathed at the sigh of relief.

"Then can we go? I hate this place," she said, getting up and gathering the books on the table. You had a pretty good idea of why she hated the place.

You got up as well, helping her with the books as slowly as you could, just to keep looking at the twins. However, Pansy was anxious to get out of there, and in less than a minute, you had left. Though not before exchanging a long look with Fred.

***

You kissed Fred again. You had no idea how it came to it, but there you were, under a hidden cabinet just a walk away from the Gryffindor Tower, kissing the red-haired boy.

Fred, on the other hand, knew exactly how he had gotten into that position.

George and Angelina were great helpers when it came to his doubts on how to get your attention back, after that whole "unholy" thing from the night at the Astronomy Tower. He knew you were feeling guilty and you wouldn't give in soon, so he had to be stronger at his seductive game.

And, apparently, his extra work was paying off.

Fred noticed you were paying more and more attention to him, analyzing his posture, his looks, with who he talked and what classes was he attending. He knew you were watching because a lot of times your eyes would lock and you would blush in a very guilty — but cute — way.

He noticed that you were coming back to your normal state around Draco — just pecks on the lips before parting ways. He knew it was only a matter of time before you'd let him touch you again.

And it happened, seventeen days after the first time you two kissed. You followed Fred all day, like a shadow. You were still very confused about why he was being so kind to you lately, why was he smiling to you a lot. And then you started missing him. You missed his smart remarks, his smirks and, the worst of all, you missed his touch. Oh, how you missed his lips! His hands!

You were walking around the school in the middle of the night, in hopes to trick your mind into thinking about something else, other than him, but it was far from working. Besides, you weren't even tired.

Fred had just left his dorm, and he was trying to hide in the shadows, afraid to get caught. Your eyes met his a little too anxious, and you knew there was no turning back. You couldn't run from that feeling one more night.

You hushed towards him and kissed him, softly; just a peck on the lips before returning to your starting position, without having to stand on tiptoe. He lowered his brows, looking down at you, probably confused by what had just happened.

The boy then smiled, widely, and reached for your waist, grabbing it to guide you to a safe a hide spot — the hidden cabinet — and finally kissing you the way he was expecting to do since the first time he had done it.

He grabbed every part of your body he could, giving you chills every time he squeezed some part of you. Your fingers were wandering all over his body — you did, however, have a tendency to go for his hair.

The kiss was better than the first time — probably because you two already knew what you two liked. It was not at all an attempt to make the other satisfied; you two were there for yourselves, so you were pleasing yourselves.

You loved to pull his hair and bite his lower lip, he liked to grab your ass and kiss your neck, and neither of you was doing it because of the other — it was pure egoism in its primitive form.

You had no idea of how long it took for you to stop snogging. It was probably two in the mourning you judge by the lights, but it didn't matter. When it ended, you felt more awaken then before.

You two stared at each other, gasping for air.

"So..." Fred started saying, adjusting his shirt, "see you same time tomorrow?"

You wrinkled your nose, dilating your nostrils at his suggestion. That was not happening again! It was an incredible mistake you were not planning on making a third time.

You ran your fingers through your hair before leaving, trying to fix it, but it seemed useless. Fred was smirking like he had just won a match and you couldn't understand why. What you did was wrong in so many levels, it was just...

You walked out of the hidden cabinet, leaving the door open behind you. Fred was soon out in the corridor too.

You looked at him one more time before walking away.

"Same time tomorrow," you finally agreed, disappearing in the darkness.

Fred started giggling alone, and although you were already very far from where he stood, you were able to hear his happy laugh.

PART 4 (LAST ONE) HERE!

#fred weasley #Fred and George #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #Fred and George Weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x slytherin reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x slytherin reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #george weasley #angelina johnson #george weasley x angelina johnson #slytherin #harry potter #harry potter fanfic

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today-only-happens-once · 4 years

Text

all the truth i could tell

Title: all the truth i could tell

Word Count: 4864

Summary: The court case is about keeping them together. But Roman’s testimony during the trial might just tear Logan apart. For Isa’s Sanders Bro AU. Familial/Brotherly LAMP angst/hurt/comfort.

Warnings: angst/hurt/comfort, detailed discussion of past abuse (physical/emotional/psychological), courtrooms, badgering witnesses, threats, threats about children, vomiting, second-guessing and self-doubt, emotional breakdowns, arguments, guilt (trauma related and also misplaced in so many ways), cursing, crying (some more than others but a lot across the board woops)

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write this fic for months and months. Perhaps one of the angstiest fics I’ve ever written. Got a little emotional while writing it, so I mostly just hope the emotions of the fic translated from my brain onto the page well enough because... I’m not sure, honestly. But I’m never sure about these things. Heh. My immeasurable thanks to @justisaisfine not only for letting me play in the Bros AU again, but for all the work and love and dedication they’ve put in to this universe’s creation. Edited by yours truly. All continuity errors, typos, and spelling/grammar mistakes are mine.

Inspired mostly by these posts from their AU.

Title is taken from “Praying” by Kesha; a cover of which appears in Isa’s playlist for this AU.

…

“Roman Sanders.”

The courtroom is packed, though Logan can’t say at this point that he finds that particularly surprising. It had been packed for the past several days, ever since it first started. And despite this fact, Logan is reasonably confident he hears the inhale of breath that his older brother sucks into his lungs. It is not entirely steady. Roman stands up from beside their lawyers at the defense table and casts a quick glance over his shoulder to his brothers and Thomas. Logan doesn’t know what his own expression is. He hopes it’s reassuring.

Anything to ease that flicker of fear that crosses his brother’s eyes.

Late afternoon sunlight streams in through the windows on the far wall and leaves squares of light on the wood floors. The benches are hard and uncomfortable to sit on, but Logan had gotten used to their discomfort days ago. Besides, a hard seat was hardly the most pressing issue on his mind. He casts a furtive, fleeting glance over at the back of his parents’ heads at the prosecution table.

Roman makes his way to the witness stand, lays his hand on the Bible, swears the oath they’d all heard half a dozen times by now. It’s all very business-as-usual. Logan wonders if Roman’s hand feels like lead to him. Logan’s had felt that way when he’d sworn to tell the truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth.

“You may take your seat.”

Beside him, Patton shifts, fiddling with the sleeve of his gray suit jacket. Logan glances at him. Patton doesn’t take his eyes off their oldest brother.

Their lawyer—Walter Coleman—stands, buttons his suit jacket, and casually makes his way over. Logan liked him; he’d been the first person Thomas had called after Logan explained that he’d been gathering evidence just in case their parents came back. He was practiced, successful, and very thorough. Patton had described him as kind, but kindness mattered significantly less to Logan than whether or not Coleman could win.

“Roman, could you do the record a favor—just for clarity—and describe your relationship to the prosecution.”

A routine question, Logan tells himself. One they have practiced several times before. He tells himself this as if it will ease the tension that stretches his spine ramrod straight. It does not.

Roman clears his throat and leans into the mic. “I was their first child.”

“So you are the oldest of the Sanders children, yes?”

“Yes.”

“How old were you when you left home?”

“I was fifteen.”

“Could you describe the nature of the night you left? We have heard your brothers’ testimony regarding that incident, but I think it would benefit to have yours as well.” A brief pause. “Do you remember that night?”

“Vividly.”

“Then please tell us about it.”

Roman nods. Takes a breath. “I came home from school that day. It was late May, I think, and we could hear crashing and yelling coming from inside the house. I ran inside without even thinking about it, really—”

“Could you clarify whom you mean when you say ‘we’?”

Roman clears his throat. “Two of my brothers, sorry. Patton and Logan. Virgil wasn’t in school yet.” He pauses, glances at their lawyer, and continues after his silent, encouraging nod. “When I got in the house, it didn’t take long to realize the sound was coming from the kitchen. Mom was screaming. Shattered plates were all over the floor, and my—and Virgil was sort of hiding in the corner in the middle of the mess.”

Roman’s voice is… wrong, to Logan’s ears. Distant and detached and so unlike his oldest brother that it twists his stomach. Roman’s eyes are boring into their lawyer’s as if he’s afraid to look anywhere else right now.

Roman continues. “Mom was yelling something about Virgil, and she had a plate in her hand and she looked like she was about to throw it at him. So I yelled for her to stop, I asked what she was doing even though it seemed pretty clear, and I grabbed the plate from her hands because I was afraid she was going to throw it at him anyway. She left, after that.”

Their lawyer has his back to the courtroom, so Logan cannot see his expression. “She just walked away?”

Roman’s lips press into a thin line. “I think ‘shoved’ may be a bit more accurate, but yes.”

“And then what did you do?”

“I attempted to talk to Virgil.”

“Attempted?”

For the first time since he took the stand, Logan sees a flicker of something pass through Roman’s eyes. Logan remembers with startling clarity the look in his brother’s eyes when they watched Lilo and Stitch a lifetime ago—and then promptly never watched it again.

“I couldn’t—Virgil wouldn’t respond to me for a really long time.” Roman takes a deep breath. His gaze flickers from their lawyer and drifts out to the crowd. It settles on Thomas, who is sitting on the other side of Patton, for a brief moment before he returns it to their lawyer. “His eyes were kind of unfocused and… eventually, I just picked him up and took him upstairs to patch him up.”

“He was injured?”

Roman nods. “Yeah. He… There were cuts all over his hands. I think he might’ve been trying to pick up the pieces off the floor. His arms too. Maybe his head. I—Truthfully, I don’t remember the specifics of his injuries.”

Another line they’d practiced, Logan thinks. A truthful statement, but a careful one. Not I don’t remember. Not the details are hazy. Roman’s memories are vague around the particulars of Virgil’s injuries, but there is no doubt he was injured.

If he’s being honest, Logan is vaguely surprised at how well Roman seems to have remembered that night. It was a long time ago. And Logan doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the somehow both vacant and desperate look in his eyes as he’d bandaged their baby brother that night.

“Then I told my brothers that I thought leaving was the best decision.”

“Was staying with your parents going to leave you or your brothers in immediate, direct physical harm—”

“Objection.” The interruption comes from the prosecution table, a voice familiar now to Logan from his own experience on the witness stand. It still sent chills down his arms and turned his stomach. The prosecuting lawyer—Tyler Jacobs—is still sitting, but he’s looking directly at the judge. “That question is purely based on speculation. Witness is unable to know what would have happened had they not left.”

“Sustained.”

“I’ll rephrase,” Coleman says patiently. “Did you believe that staying in that house would mean danger of imminent harm?”

“Yes.” The question is immediate, clear, and divisive.

“Did you, Roman Sanders, forcibly remove any of your brothers from their home without their consent or agreement?”

“No. Their own testimonies speak to that.”

“And why didn’t you contact proper authorities rather than leave?”

“I was…” Roman’s voice seems to die for a moment in his throat. His gaze flickers over to the prosecution table for a brief moment and Logan swears some color drains from Roman’s face. “I was scared.”

“Scared. Of your parents?”

“Yes,” Roman says, his voice returning to that unnatural evenness. “But also of being separated from my brothers. I was fifteen, and they were all I had.”

There’s a surprising pause. Someone a few rows behind them coughs. Coleman regards Roman silently. Roman stares back at him. Logan cannot tell if they’re communicating somehow, or why there’s such a long pause, but then eventually, Coleman speaks again.

“We’ve heard from your brothers about their understandings of the nature of your parents. But could you, in your own words, describe your relationship to them?”

Beside him, Logan feels Patton sit up a little more.

“It was…” Roman hesitates, and Logan doesn’t understand why. “It was uncomfortable.”

“In what way?”

Silence.

Logan feels himself tense. His older brother was a damn good actor but Logan had spent his entire life reading through Roman’s bravado. Alone on the witness stand, it seems unusually brittle to Logan, and he doesn’t understand the tinge of what he can only describe as panic in his big brother’s eyes.

“Roman,” Coleman prompts, in a surprisingly gentle voice.

Roman’s jaw works. He looks away. The panic gives way to something else. Shame?

“You promised this court to tell the whole truth,” Coleman says, still with that surprising gentleness. “All of it, Roman.”

Roman doesn’t look at anybody when he finally answers. “It was… threats, mostly.”

And Logan’s blood turns to ice.

“When none of my brothers were around,” Roman presses on, speaking quickly, like the faster he speaks the sooner he can get it over with and Logan’s head is spinning. “My father would ask if I’d rather he hurt my brothers instead, or said he’d burn Logan again if I didn’t shut up about it, or he’d be sure to tell Mom to hit Patton harder next time if I said anything about the bruises at school, or that he’d lock Virgil away from us for hours—days—if I didn’t—”

Roman’s voice chokes off. He swallows hard, squares his jaw, and looks up. “Sometimes it happened at night. Virgil and I shared a room, and sometimes he’d… he’d come in, knowing Virgil was fast asleep in the bed next to me, and we could both hear him breathing, and he’d ask if I’d imagined what it might be like to not hear that breathing, or to hear it… stop, and that I might find out if I didn’t…”

Patton seizes Logan’s hand and squeezes hard enough that maybe it should hurt but nothing seems to register to Logan right now. Things are spinning and nothing fits together and God damn it, how could he not have known?

Logan doesn’t know if his hand is shaking harder or Patton’s. When Patton clasps a second hand over Logan’s, Logan realizes it’s his own.

“Do you have any regrets about your decision to remove yourself and your brothers from that situation?”

“No,” Roman says honestly. Earnestly. Logan thinks he can barely hear him over the roaring in his ears.

Coleman nods once, then steps back and returns to the prosecution table. Logan watches as if he’s seeing it from miles away as Coleman removes his glasses and scrubs a hand across his eyes as Jacobs stands up.

“How old were you when you left the Sanders’ residence that night?” Logan instinctively tenses at the sound of his deceptively smooth voice.

“Fifteen,” Roman repeats.

“Do you think, Roman, that a fifteen-year-old child is the best judge of what is and isn’t best for other children?”

“I was afraid for mine and my brothers’ safety.”

“But you made that decision for your brothers rather than allowing them to reach their own conclusions, did you not?”

A crease appears between Roman’s brows. “No. Patton said he wanted to leave, too. And I wouldn’t have made Logan come if he didn’t want to.”

“Yes, yes.” Jacobs waves a dismissive hand. “But didn’t you say that Virgil wasn’t responding to you when you tried to talk to him?”

If Logan hadn’t been looking for it, he would have missed the way Roman’s eyes widened imperceptibly. “I… Yes, but—”

“So how could you have known what Virgil wanted? He was five at the time, yes?”

“Yes—”

“So he was capable, physically, of speaking in full sentences. Yet did Virgil, at any point, indicate clearly and without equivocation, that he wanted to be removed from the Sanders household?”

“He had just been—”

“Please answer the question asked, Roman.”

Logan feels Patton’s grip tighten around his own. Logan squeezes back. He wants to look at his younger brother, to see if he is okay, but Logan can’t take his eyes off his oldest brother. Something is squeezing Logan’s chest like a metal band. Sharp and painful and the air feels too thick for it.

“No,” Roman says. “He didn’t. But he wasn’t safe, and I was doing what I thought was right.”

“What you thought was right,” Jacobs repeats with a skeptical glance to the jury. There’s a weighted pause. “Tell me something, Roman, had you ever had a job before you left?”

“No.”

I can’t believe he never told me about dad.

“Had you saved up the money your parents freely gave you?”

Through the weird haze of Logan’s thoughts, he thinks he sees Roman’s jaw tighten. “No.”

“Had you had any prior work experience?”

“No, but I—”

“Legal guardianship experience?”

“No, but—”

“Did you have a specific place in mind when you left?”

“We found—”

“A place you owned that could provide certainty of safety and security from inclement weather?”

“No—”

“And yet you think it was the right decision,” Jacobs cuts in, doing nothing to hide his incredulity. “The right decision for you, a fifteen-year-old child, to remove your younger brothers from their home with no plan, no experience, no job, no nothing. You really believe that was the right thing to do?”

“I—I was—”

“Objection!” Coleman roars over Roman’s stuttered, desperate response. “Badgering the witness!”

The gavel bangs. Logan, Patton, and Roman on the stand all jump in unison. There’s an immediate, ricocheting silence in the courtroom. “Sustained,” the judge says in a tense voice. “Jacobs, you will proceed carefully or not at all.”

“Apologies,” Jacobs says as if its more reflexive habit than legitimate contrition. “Roman, have you ever made a mistake?”

Why didn’t Roman talk to me about any of it? Why didn’t—

Roman hesitates. “Yes.”

“And did you learn from that mistake? Were you capable of change?”

Another beat. “Yes.”

“Do you think your parents are capable of similar change?”

Dad used us to threaten him, and he never—

Roman has a desperate, pained look in his eyes and Logan realizes—so suddenly it jars him—that he’s looking at him and Patton for the first time. “I…”

“You are under oath, Roman,” Jacobs says with a bit of an edge. Or perhaps Logan is imagining it. “You must state your honest opinion.”

“No,” Roman says eventually tearing his gaze away from his brothers. He says the word like it devastates him. “No, I don’t.”

Jacobs eyes narrow. He purses his lips. “Perhaps you have not grown up quite as much as you believe you have,” he says. Coleman jumps to his feet again but Jacobs waves him off. “No further questions.”

Roman scrubs a hand down his face and Logan realizes then that he can see how badly Roman is shaking all of a sudden.

Why didn’t Roman tell me? There’s something hard settled in the core of Logan’s chest that is painful to breathe past.

The gavel bangs. Logan jumps again. “Let’s take a brief recess.”

Patton has jumped to his feet and is out of the courtroom almost before the judge has finished speaking.

…

Logan finds his younger brother forty-eight seconds later in the restroom. He hears the retching before he sees him, kneeling beside a toilet with the stall door still open. Something unnamed clenches impossibly tighter in Logan’s chest.

“Oh, Pat,” he says, as his younger brother flushes and sits back, wiping his mouth. His eyes are dry, and for some reason he can’t explain, that surprises Logan. He grabs one of the paper towels and quickly rinses it in the sink before crossing to his brother and kneeling in front of him.

Patton leans his head back against the tiled wall. “He…” Patton lets the statement go unfinished, his gaze distancing.

“I know,” Logan says, softly, as he wipes away the residue lingering on Patton’s lips.

“Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Know? Did you know what…what he…”

Logan’s throat is closing. He coughs in a futile attempt to clear it. He still feels a little bit like the ground beneath his feet has shifted. “No,” he manages. “I didn’t.”

And the admittance, out loud, makes something burn harshly in Logan’s chest. Something like anger. Something like grief. Something like… Logan grits his teeth. He had never been good at identifying emotions. But it hurts.

Patton swallows hard. The steel band around Logan’s chest tightens, and Logan moves to sit beside him. He wraps an arm around his shoulder and rocks them side to side. In the back of his mind, Logan is a bit surprised that nobody else had come into the bathroom yet. He figures it doesn’t really matter much.

Patton doesn’t say anything else, although Logan has the odd feeling that he wants to. Patton keeps taking in a breath as if he’s about to say something, then decides against it. Logan doesn’t ask. He hopes Patton knows that he can talk if he wants to, but that Logan won’t press him if he doesn’t.

Minutes pass. He continues to rock Patton side to side a little as his own thoughts wonder, replaying—in a way that never eases the gutted feeling in Logan’s stomach—Roman’s testimony about their father. Logan had always thought Roman was the favored son; Roman was the one that was left untouched, forced instead to use their parents’ unwillingness to hurt him to protect his brothers. Logan had known—had seen—the psychological scars it’d left on his brother.

But that….

Dad used us to threaten him. Logan leans his own head back against the wall and stares hopelessly at the ceiling. Why the fuck didn’t Roman say anything about it? They were supposed to talk about stuff like that. Maybe not Virgil—sure, Logan could rationalize that. Virgil was the baby of the family, and even though he wasn’t much of a baby anymore, Logan certainly understood if Roman was afraid of scarring Virgil more than he’d already been by their parents.

But Logan… He should have felt like he could talk to Logan about it. The world in Logan’s vision blurs further.

How did Logan miss it?

Beside him, Patton sniffles and pulls out of his brother’s arms a little. “Logan?”

“Yeah?” Logan replies, his voice thick.

“I’m kind of worried about Roman. Could… could you go check on him for me?”

Logan’s brow furrows. “You don’t want to check yourself?”

Patton shakes his head quickly, grabbing some toilet paper and blowing his nose before tossing it in the toilet. “I don’t—I don’t think, er… I don’t know if Roman wants to see me….. like this,” Patton offers, but Logan doesn’t miss that the words like this sound like they’re mostly added as an afterthought.

“Patton,” Logan tries, squeezing his arm, but Patton shakes his head.

“Just… Please?”

Logan hesitates, then caves. He gives one more gentle squeeze to Patton’s arm before he stands. “Okay.”

It’s not until he’s opened the bathroom door—a part of him wanting to ask Patton why he seems to think Roman wouldn’t want to see him—when he suddenly understands. With it comes an answer to the question that had been repeating in Logan’s mind with dizzying urgency.

Why didn’t Roman tell me?

Perhaps it was because he blamed them.

…

As it turned out, nobody had been in the bathroom because the couple that had been their neighbors growing up—Martha and Alice—were essentially standing guard at the door. Logan stumbles, startled by the two women flanking the men’s restroom door.

“Easy, dear,” Martha says, catching Logan’s elbow to help steady him. “Is your brother still in there?”

Logan tries to swallow past the growing lump in his throat. “Yes. I… If you could continue to ensure his privacy, I plan to be back very soon.”

He didn’t like the idea of leaving Patton all by himself right now. At least not for long.

Alice nods. “Of course. If you’re looking for Roman, I believe he and that nice movie star he’s always with went in the conference room around the corner. We’ve been keeping a close eye, and I don’t think anyone’s gone back there to interrupt them.”

Logan nods his understanding, surprised at the surge of unnamed emotions that rush through him at the otherwise simple act of kindness. “Thank you,” he says, unsure of how to express to these two women just how much he means them.

Martha winks at him. “Anything for you boys.”

Logan quickly turns around the corner to the first door on the right. Through the long window to the left of the door, Logan sees Roman and Thomas, and something makes him freeze.

Through the door, muffled, Logan can only make out part of the conversation.

“…down, Roman.”

“I’m fine, okay? I’m just...”

“Are you sure?” Thomas sounds like he’s trying to be gentle. Through the glass, Logan can see the vaguely lost and pleading look on the actor’s face. Roman’s got his back to the window, facing Thomas. “Because you don’t… seem…”

“Damn it, Thomas, just—I… Maybe he’s right, y’know? Maybe I… Maybe he has a point.”

“Who? Jacobs?” Roman’s silence is answer enough. “Roman, you can’t think like that.”

“I was fifteen, Thomas. Maybe I… Fucking shit, I can’t deal with this right now.”

“Roman—”

Logan opens the door. The conversation cuts out abruptly, and Logan freezes suddenly as Roman whirls around to face him. Roman’s eyes are red and puffy and startled. He looks suddenly so young and vulnerable and Logan can’t remember the last time he saw Roman like that.

“I—Apologies,” he forces out. “Patton wanted to know where you were and, I… Sorry.”

Because the only thing echoing is his head is that he is, at least in part, responsible for the haunted, broken look in Roman’s eyes and the frantic way he can see Roman trying to piece back together the bravado he so often wore.

“Logan, wait—”

But Logan turns and rushes back towards the bathroom so quickly he isn’t even sure which one of them said his name. He tells Patton that Roman is with Thomas. He’s grateful when Patton seems to relax at that and doesn’t press Logan for other details.

…

When they all go home later that night, Thomas drives Roman and Patton drives Logan. Initially, Logan had refused the offer. But Patton explained that he thought it would help to have something else to focus on—to feel like he was doing something, that it would help alleviate the feeling that he’d been a bystander all day long. And right now, Logan is pretty sure that Logan was incapable of denying his younger brother much of anything.

But Logan can’t get the look on his brother’s face in the conference room scrubbed from his mind. He thinks about texting him.

He also can’t stop thinking about how Roman probably doesn’t want to see or speak to him. Your fault, a voice hisses in the back of his mind. His stomach rolls with guilt. His chest burns with anger.

Logan shifts in his seat. He decides to text Thomas instead.

How is he?

He doesn’t expect an answer for a while. Thomas is driving after all.

Neither Logan nor Patton says anything the entire car ride. It is the longest car ride of Logan’s life.

…

Logan is through the front door before Patton is. Roman and Thomas are already sitting on the couch—Logan and Patton had needed to stop for gas—with their suit jackets discarded on the armchair. Roman has untied his tie, letting it hang loose around his neck. One hand hangs between his knees, covered by one of Thomas’s, and the other is in his hair. He his head snaps up when Logan steps through the door.

Roman opens his mouth like he wants to say something. Logan doesn’t have a fucking clue to say to his big brother. His chest feels like it’s caving and he doesn’t know why except that it presses on the anger that is simmering in his ribcage.

Patton—as he barrels in through the door a moment after Logan—is the one who breaks the silence. “Roman!” Patton’s voice cracks with the name and Roman is on his feet in less than a second. Patton barrels straight into his chest.

“Pat, hey,” Roman says, in that painfully familiar, soft and soothing voice. He wraps his arms around his brother. “Hey, sssh. I’m okay.”

“You really expect me to believe that? You—” Patton’s voice chokes and it’s half-muffled from Roman’s chest but Patton is clinging to him like Roman is the only thing that can keep him afloat. Like he’s afraid to let go. “Roman, you’re my brother and you… you just…”

Logan watches Roman swallow hard. “Yeah,” Roman whispers. He turns a pained gaze on to Logan, still standing by the door, who matches it before his stomach rolls again with a leaden weight. Logan looks away.

“I… How—” The question chokes off with a broken sob and it’s like the dam has finally crashed open. Patton shakes with the force of his sobs against his big brother’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” Roman whispers, and he tightens around Patton like he can feel the way his brother is falling apart and he’s trying desperately to keep him together. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Patton’s breath is hiccupping. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

Roman releases a breath. He smooths a hand against Patton’s mess of curls. “Yeah. Of course, Patton.”

“You-you shouldn’t have had to…. You…”

“Hey, hey, hey. Sssh. It’s okay. I’m sorry if I scared you. I’m sorry.”

Something is breaking inside of Logan—maybe a dam of his own—and the words burst from his mouth before he can think to stop them. “Damn right you’re sorry.”

Roman and Thomas’s gazes both snap towards Logan. Logan’s hands ball into fists to get them to stop shaking. He clenches his jaw.

“Logan,” Roman tries, but Logan can feel his heartbeat against his ribs and shakes his head.

“You never told me.”

“I…”

“We had a deal.” And damn it, his vision is blurring a little around the edges but Logan ignores it. “We talk to each other. We tell each other things. We don’t… Fuck, Roman, we don’t hide things like that from each other.”

Roman looks like he’s floundering a bit, something fracturing in his irises. Like splinters of ceramic. “I didn’t see a reason to bring it up with you.”

“Bullshit,” Logan grits out, storming away from the door and closer to Roman. “We’re there for each other, Roman. That was the deal, from the very beginning. I was true to my word, even when I didn’t want to be. Even when it was hard to be. Because I thought… I thought you trusted me too.”

“I do—”

“So imagine my surprise,” Logan presses on, even if the heat in his eyes is a bit more pronounced now, “when I find out today that you were threatened by dad. Using us. Using me. Imagine my surprise when I learned it’s my fault that my big brother—”

“Whoa,” Roman jumps in suddenly and defensively. His brows are knit together. “That’s not true.”

Logan scoffs and when he blinks, his blurry vision abruptly clears and he can feel the tears tracing down his cheeks. He scrubs frustratedly at them. “Yes, it is, Roman. Dad used us against you and you never said shit about it. I mean, how am I—” His throat closes and Logan gestures helplessly at Roman, who looks stricken. “You used to patch me up. All those times, all those burns, it was always you that took care of… And not once did I even think that…”

Logan swallows hard and shakes his head. “So yeah,” he manages with a wobbling voice that he wishes would be steady. “Yeah, it’s my fault, Roman. I just wish you would have told me anyway.”

Logan suddenly can’t manage the weight of the silent gazes bearing down on his shoulders—that might be more weight than he can manage—and he turns to head towards his room.

“Logan, please,” Roman says desperately as Logan feels him grab his elbow to stop him. In one fluid motion, Roman pulls him closer and hugs him. Logan is suddenly engulfed in the smell of his older brother—linen and cinnamon and salt—and he feels his resolve buckling.

Logan feels Roman press his face into his hair, one hand cupping the back of his head.

“I’m telling you three times,” Roman says in a choked whisper. “It’s not your fault.”

And just like that, Logan is thirteen again and knowing that no matter what may come next, his brothers are the only place he feels safe. Roman had spent his entire life trying to make sure his younger brothers felt safe. Standing here in the living room of their house, Logan tries to make sure Roman feels that way too.

Logan doesn’t let go of his big brother for a very long time. And if Roman is holding onto him just as tightly, well. That’s what brothers were for, isn’t it?

...

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#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders bro au #sanders bro au fanfiction #logan sanders #angst #hurt/comfort #court #abuse #abuse tw #cursing #arguing #crying #if other warnings should be in the tags specifically please let me know #hhhhhh always nervous to post yikes

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the-gedonelune-times · 3 years

Text

Unforgettable Memory

Hey, Happy Holidays @blueberrin I’m your Secret Santa! I’m so excited to give you your gift, but I must apologize for any grammar mistakes. (Writing this out on a phone was a pain but enjoyable nonetheless.) Regardless, I hope today is filled with lots of laugh and fun! ❤

“Are you...serious?”

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Liz spoke hesitantly, trying to push out the words that had formed a lump in her throat. “This isn’t the first time that someone did this.”

“Liz...I swear to you, I’m not doing what Klaus made you do all that time ago.”

Liz looked at Zeus and then at the ring in his hands. Before she had confessed to Zeus, a certain someone else had invited her to a big gathering to pose as their fiance. It was a sense of deja vu to her when Zeus invited her to a big family gathering at the Brundle estate for the holidays. Gulping softly Liz’s hands became shaky.

“Liz, I swear to you, I’ll make you happy.” Zeus never broke eye contact with her

Staring at his eyes, Liz knew just how serious he was. A wave of relief gently washed over her as her hands reached out to rest on Zeus’ shoulders. “I know...that’s why I…” Tears gently began to fall down her face as she tried to finish her sentence. “...yes”

“Yes?”

Tears began to fall down her face as she nodded. Zeus’ eyes went wide and a smile formed on his face as he scooped Liz right off her feet, spinning her around.

“She said yes!” Zeus shouted happily.

“She said yes?!” A muffled voice asked from behind them; it was Hiro who was currently munching on some snacks that he had brought for the trip.

“That’s right, she did.” Zeus was practically beaming from ear to ear as he gently pressed his lips against Liz’s, giving a tender kiss before pulling away.

Hiro’s eyes widened before dropping his snacks to the ground. He ran over and hugged the both of them with a big smile on his face. Meanwhile the sounds of soft clapping ensued from those around who had watched the scene unfold.

Afterwards, the group finally made their way to the train station and waited for the train to pull in. Liz’s heart practically leapt from her chest as she held her hand up in the sunlight; the beautiful ring on her finger sparkled elegantly against its rays and before she knew it, tears were beginning to build up, causing her vision to get slightly blurry. She took notice of this fact and quickly wiped her eyes with her sleeve before turning her attention over to Zeus.

He seemed to be having a chat with Hiro who punched him in the arm, causing the both to laugh. Liz couldn’t remember a day where she had seen Hiro this happy, but for good reason too. Zeus and him were practically like brothers and the news made Hiro ecstatic.

Just as Liz was about to say something, the sound of a whistle echoed out in the distance, drawing her attention elsewhere. It was at that time that Hiro and Zeus joined her; Zeus wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close to his side.

“You think that’s our train?”

“Should be.”

“Are you getting nervous?” Zeus looked down, his eyes meeting hers.

“A little.” Liz spoke as she shifted in her position. “I mean, this is the first time I’ve ever been to your estate, let alone to meet your parents. I suppose I’m a little nervous.”

“But you’ve gone to the Goldstein's estate before.” Zeus pointed out.

“That’s different, Zeus. They’re my friends and you’re my boyrfrien- fiance.” Liz quickly corrected with a slight blush on her cheeks. “ What if your parents don’t approve of me?”

“That’s unlikely, they’re going to absolutely love you, Liz.”

“But how can you be so sure?”

“Zeus isn’t lying.” Hiro spoke up. “His family might bear a noble name, but they’re some of the nicest people in all of Queensblade. Trust me, you really do have nothing to worry about.”

Zeus gave her a reassuring kiss on her cheeks as the train slowly pulled into the station. Once all the passengers were off, a man’s voice called out, alerting that this would be the final train to Queensblade for the day, due to possible hazardous weather conditions later throughout the day. The three of them hurriedly boarded the train and found their seats.

After a couple of minutes, the train slowly lurched forward, departing on it’s journey. Meanwhile, Liz began to fidget a bit with her fingers as she looked out of the window, watching the scenery pass by as a blur. Suddenly, Liz remembered something and quickly looked over at Zeus and Hiro who were playfully pestering one another.

“Hey, do you two remember what the station master said?”

“Huh? You mean about this being the last train?”

“Well yes, but also no. He mentioned something about hazardous conditions.”

“Oh yeah, I heard talk about some crazy winter storm that could be blowing in.”

“I see…”

“I wouldn’t worry about it though, we get these kinds of scares in Queensblade a lot, but half the time nothing happens.”

“King Kook over there is right.” Hiro chimed in with agreement.

“Oh, that reminds me!” Liz decided to change the subject as she quickly rummaged in her bag, pulling out a cutely wrapped bag filled with cookies. “I made these earlier since I knew we’d be travelling for a little while.”

With hungry eyes, Zeus quickly snatched the bag from Liz’s hands and opened it with ease as he began devouring the cookies inside.

“Hey, King Kook, leave some for me!” Hiro shouted while reaching out for the bag which Zeus hastily pulled away from his reach.

“No way, you brought your own snacks!”

“You ate most of them!”

“Well too bad!”

“Alright, that’s it!” Hiro quickly placed his hand on the sheath of his sword, clearly ready for a fight.

Zeus wasn’t backing down either and within a few seconds the ground beneath him began to glow. Liz knew what was about to happen and quickly jumped in between the two, despite the train still moving. She stood her ground though and managed to keep her balance before holding up another bag of cookies and handing it to Hiro.

“I brought enough for both of you, now would you please stop fight- ah!”

The screeching of the train’s wheels on the rails was all Liz heard before being thrown off balance completely, falling into Zeus who quickly caught her and pulled her on his lap. The bag of cookies fell to the floor, its contents spilling out.

“Liz, are you alright?” Zeus looked at her worriedly and sighed in relief when she nodded her head.

“I’m fine...but your cookies on the other hand…”

“Forget about that, as long as you're safe that’s what matters.”

“Ugh...can you two get a room?” Hiro asked before handing his bag over to Zeus. “I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

Suddenly, a man entered and looked around frantically. “I thought I heard a scream, is everything alright here?”

“Yes, we’re fine here. What happened by the way?”

“I’m afraid there’s been an accident up ahead. Seems that a farmer from a nearby village was transporting his sheep, but something happened and the sheep escaped and ran out onto the track. I’m afraid we’ll be delayed for a bit.”

“Hey, you know I don’t think we’re that far from Queensblade. If worse comes to worse we could probably just walk there.”

“Looking out the window, Zeus gave his head a good nod. “Yeah, you’re probably right. But do we really want to go out and walk in the freezing cold for that long?”

“In that time, the track could be cleared and we’d already be there.” Hiro argued.

“I must advise you on one more thing.” The man spoke up. “We’ve received word that a heavy snowstorm is slowly making its way to Queensblade. I’m worried you may get caught up in it.”

“Wait, but if the snowstorm makes it there before the train does, that means we’ll be delayed again right?” Liz asked.

“Yes, if the weather doesn’t permit any travelling then we aren’t going to put our passengers at risk.”

“How long do you think it’ll be until the storm arrives?”

“I’d wager anywhere from half to an hour.”

“That doesn’t give much time, does it?”

“I have an idea. Hiro, Zeus, I want you to help me okay?” Liz quickly hopped off of Zeus’ lap and ran to the nearest exit.

“Liz?! What are you doing?”

Hiro sighed and joined as Zeus bolted from his seat to go after Liz. “Always a lively outing with these two.” He mumbled.

Not far from the train were a flock of sheep that an old man was desperately trying to herd back into his buggy. He seemed out of breath and soon leaned up against it.”

“These darn sheep just won’t listen to anything I say!”

“Sir?”

“Huh?”

“What exactly happened?”

The old man sighed. “I’ve been relocating my farm animals to my new farm. But it seems my bad memory caught up with me and I didn’t lock the back of the buggy all the way and these slippery heathens just took off!”

“I see. Well could you give us a few minutes? We'll have all your sheep back in there in no time.”

“What? Are you serious - hey!”

The three wasted no time with their efforts. Liz used her abilities to talk and coax the frantic sheep back into the buggy while the rowdier ones were dealt with by Hiro and Zeus who lifted and carried them with ease. Within mere minutes the sheep were cleared from the rails and were safely secured this time in the back of the farmer’s buggy. The old man gave a grateful bow before taking off in his horse and buggy.

Once all was done, the three headed back to the train and boarded once more. This time there were no setbacks and the three had made it to the station; and just in time too.

“Looks like this will be the final train of the day to and from Queensblade.” Hiro pointed out.

“We barely made it.” Zeus turned his attention to Liz as they stepped foot into the station. “Why did you do it?”

“It’s the holidays, Zeus. The other people on that train were probably trying to make it home to see their families.” Liz stated. “Point is, we made it, didn't we?” she smiled.

“Yes but you were cutting it very close.” A new voice drew the attention of three, but Zeus just smiled before going up and slapping the man on the back.

“Good to see you Edwin!”

The man coughed slightly from the force. “Yes, same to you, Mr. Brundle. Enough with the chatter, we have to get you to the estate, your parents have been waiting for your arrival. They were growing worried when the heard news of bad weather. Coupled with the fact that the train had yet to arrive until now...well, I was afraid I would have to give the bad news that you wouldn’t be arriving today.”

Zeus scoffed. “As if. Do you really think that some snowstorm poses a threat to the pinnacle of all creations?”

Hiro rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Here he goes again.”

Liz chuckled as she wrapped an arm around Zeus’, drawing Edwin’s attention.

“Ah, so this must be the special guest I’ve heard so much about.”

“You’ve...heard about me?”

“Yes. A numerous number of times.” Edwin smiled before going to the horse drawn carriage nearby, opening the doors and gesturing for them to come over.

“You never mentioned anything about a carriage.” Liz whispered to Zeus.

“How else did you think we’d be going to the estate?”

Zeus gave a cocky grinned, causing Liz to shake her head as Edwin helped her into the carriage. Zeus joined her shortly while Hiro sat on the opposite end. Meanwhile, Edwin began loading their luggage before taking his seat, ushering the horses forward. Before long the carriage was filled with chatter, playful pestering and laughter as they made their way to the estate. The path began to get smooth compared to the rather bumpy start and as they made their way up the hill, Liz’s eyes widened.

A beautiful building, almost castle-like rested prominently on a beautifully decorated landscape. This wasn’t her first time being invited to somewhere extravagant, but this really took the cake. Noticing her stare, Zeus chuckled and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“At a loss for words?”

Liz could only muster a soft nod, drawing out another laugh from Zeus and this Hiro as well this time. As the carriage pulled up to the front gate, Liz could hear the chatter between two others before the gate was open and the carriage made its way through. Once they came to a complete stop, the doors to the estate swung open revealing a beautiful woman locked arms with her husband. Liz caught a glimpse of them and was at a loss for words. They gave off such a regal demeanor, which wasn’t surprising considering they were nobles, but for some reason just being in their presence felt almost...intimidating. Zeus gripped her hand reassuringly with a smile before helping her out of the carriage once Edwin had opened the doors.

“Zeus!” The woman called out to him joyfully as she made her way over. Your father and I were worried that you weren’t going to be able to make it.”

“We heard news about a possible delay due to an accident happening on the rails. I’m relieved to know you’re alright.”

“It was nothing more than a little sheep accident.” Zeus smiled. “But we took care of it thanks to Liz here.” Zeus gestured to Liz.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Liz smiled.

“Oh dear, the pleasure is all ours; and no need to be so formal.” Zeus’ mother smiled. “Zeus has told us all about you in the letters he’s written to us, why, you’re practically family already.”

A slight blush formed on Liz’s cheeks as her gaze went downward.

“But enough about that, you should all go inside and warm up. We’ll make sure Edwin brings your luggage to your rooms.” Zeus’ father smiled as he and his wife headed back inside the estate.

“Come on, I’ll show you to my room.”

“Wait, we’re sharing a room?”

“Well of course. We’re engaged now aren’t we? Even if we weren’t, I’d still want you to stay in my room.” Zeus smiled as he led her inside.

The inside of the house was just as regal as the outside. Marble pillars with gold speckles adorned the entrance, as they continued walking further inside, Liz felt a sense of coziness. They soon ascended the grand staircase and walked down a long hallway before Zeus finally stopped in front of a door and opened it. The room was unlike anything Liz had ever seen before. The large room had marble flooring, similar to the pillars downstairs. In one corner of the room sat a beautifully adorned fireplace in what looked to be a study area. There was no door separating it, but rather a golden arch.

As she continued looking around, Liz took note of the number of windows adorned with antique curtains. One window in particular was larger than the rest, bearing a window sofa with an amazing view of the outside landscape. Taking a seat, she peered outside, watching as gray clouds cloaked the sky. She could hear footsteps from behind her, followed by a pair of arms that wrapped around her waist before the person in question of such gestures, took a seat beside her.

“Enjoying the view?”

“Yes, very.” Liz smiled. “You have such a beautiful garden. I’m surprised that there are still flowers growing in such cold conditions.”

“Oh, that’s because those are special flowers that came from Graceus. They’re made to withstand the harsh winter conditions.”

“Really? That’s amazing.”

“Maybe after dinner I can take you down there so you can get a closer look.”

“I’d love that, thank you Zeus.”

Taking his hand in hers, Liz gently leaned up to kiss his lips before quickly pulling away. But Zeus wasn’t satisfied with that, with gentle movements, Zeus tilted her chin back up before pressing his lips against hers. Their eyes closed as they became lost in the warmth not realizing that Edwin was at their door with their luggage until the sound of him clearing his throat filled the room. Liz quickly pulled away from Zeus who seemed to sigh in frustration at the poorly timed visit.

“Sorry for interrupting, but I’ve received word from your parents that the banquet will begin in a few hours. Guests are on their way now as we speak.”

“Yeah yeah, just leave our luggage and go.”

After the luggage was sat down and the door was shut, Zeus looked at Liz before sighing once more.

“Guess our fun is going to have to wait.”

“Guess so.”

The next couple of hours went by like a breeze and it was time for the banquet. Liz looked herself over in the mirror once more, she had done this many times and although Zeus had complimented her many times, she still wondered if it would be enough to impress his family.

“You know.” Zeus walked in as he straightened out his attire. “You’re trying way too hard. My parents already adore you, you know?”

“Yes that may be so but I at least want to give a good impression. After all, you’re telling them about our engagement tonight, aren’t you?” Liz asked softly.

“That’s right and I don’t think they’ll have any issues with that. If they do then that’s their problem.”

“Z-Zeus!”

“What? I’m being serious. I don’t need their acceptance for our engagement. I love you and that’s final. The pinnacle of all creations doesn’t need approval from anyone else but you.” Zeus gave a cocky grin. “I’ll meet you outside of the door alright? We’ll walk down together.”

Liz stared at her reflection, almost as if she was giving herself a silent prep talk to wash away any remaining anxious thoughts. Once done, she walked out of the room and then proceeded to walk down the stairs, arm linked with Zeus’.

By the time they reached the dining hall dinner was about to be served. Zeus led her to a couple of empty seats where they sat side by side. Just as they got settled dishes of all varieties were being placed down, some of which Liz had never even seen before. After everything was placed, Mr. Brundle gently clinked on his glass, drawing the attention of all the guests.

“Before we dig in to this beautiful feast before us, I’d just like to say a few words. I want to thank everyone for being able to make it out here today. The holiday season is usually hectic for all of us and this year with the threat of bad weather, I wasn’t sure if anyone would be able to make it. But here I am, standing before loved ones and even some new faces.” Mr. Brundle laughed. “I know we don’t see one another for most of the year, so today more than ever, let’s celebrate and make this holiday gathering another one to remember!”

“Here, here!”

Voices erupted as the other guests held up their glasses. It was at that time that Zeus cleared his throat and stood up.

“I have something important to say as well. This holiday season means a lot to all of us since we don’t see each other often. After graduating and continuing on with my life, I know more than ever how important this gathering means to me. But it means a lot more to me for another reason. I know that some of yu already know about my relationship with a girl named Liz. Well she’s here today, but not as my girlfriend.” Zeus smiled and Liz could feel her heart begin to race. “But as my fiance.”

The minute that Zeus finished his sentence, his mother gasped loudly and everyone looked on with widened eyes. It wasn’t until Mrs. Brundle spoke up that the others began to congratulate the both of them. After that, conversation began to go smoothly and before long Liz was talking to the others as if they were good friends. Laughter and all things merry filled the room that night and when the banquet had concluded the rest of the festivities were about to be in full swing.

But before Liz was able to go and join the others, Mrs. Brundle pulled her to the side, asking to talk to her.

“What is it you wanted to talk about?” Liz asked curiously.

“Well I wanted to give you a proper welcome, Liz.”

“Proper welcome?”

“To the family, dear. I know, I know, it’s so soon to be saying that but looking at you two tonight, reminded me of when I fell in love with my husband. I’ve never seen Zeus smile so much before. I do hope this means we’ll be seeing you more often when Zeus comes to visit?”

“Of course. I would love to come back here again sometime in the future.”

“Good, because we’d love to have you.” Mrs. Brundle chuckled before leaving.

Liz’s smile grew wider as she ran off to find Zeus, who was currently taunting Hiro, probably after having their usual banter. Liz had came here as a stranger and left as part of the family, this would be one holiday outing that she would remember for the rest of her life.

#shall we date wizardess heart #Shall we date? Wizardess Heart+#zeus brundle #Liz Hart #SecretSanta #no joke I was a bit nervous writing this #because I haven't really written any stories with Zeus #so I tried my hand on it #I also tried to capture his more serious loving side in this #because I know he has one #but I feel like it got covered up a lot with Solmare making him be like comedic relief friend out of the group #I hope I did him justice though #Happy Holidays once again!

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caritobbg · 4 years

Text

Secret Love Song (Part 4)

A/N: So.... this is the end!!!! Hope you like it guys!! Sorry for my bad grammar, writing in English was never easy for me (even though I studied the language for almost 11 years HAHAHAHAHA) If you want me to write something else, feel free to tell me and I will try!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

--------------- Spencer POV’s

Rossi called me to speak at the bar, he was nervous. He had been talking to (Y / N) when the show started. I walked over and he asked me about what had happened with Kiara ... I was sorry I went out with her, she was a cute and sweet girl, we dated a few times but ... I couldn't do it ... I felt like I was betraying a part of me that He said "you are a fool, you do this only to forget how you feel about (Y / N), you are hurting her". I told him everything, I couldn't fool him, David Rossi was one of the best profilers in the world ...

"Do not worry child. Today is your chance to fix things ”he said smiling and looking back at the small stage that now had a black keyboard with yellowish keys from constant use. “… She will sing two incredible songs: one by the famous English band Little Mix, the second, an indistinct song that we will hear for the first time here live. Please give (Y / N) a loud applause !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ” "But... That’s... Is that..."

"Thanks Joey" she said smiling

(Y/N) began to talk a little with the whole audience and explain a little the first song that the girls talked about so much before. She looked beautiful in that burgundy dress, her black glasses ... she was beautiful! There are over 414,800 words in the English language and none came out of my mouth

"Speechless?" I heard Rossi say "Shut up ..." I said feeling a burning in my cheeks.

The music began as soon as the phrase ‘This is a shout out to my ex’ came out we looked towards where our unsub was. His face said it all, he knew that song was for him ... I was glad, on the one hand, that that idiot got the hint, why? He deserves it, he deserves everything he did to her and more! I'd like to put my hands around his neck and… what am I saying ?! Come on Spencer, control yourself, you can't do that ... take a deep breath ...

"He's enraged" I heard him say over the intercom in my ear "After the second song he will attack" said Emily "he will not stand idly by" "As soon as you do something we will stop it" I said moving a little closer to the stage and closer to the range of vision of (Y / N).

She danced, sang, ran through the room with a timing and harmony unmatched by any of the previous participants. Once it was over, I could hear Penelope yelling and clapping with all of us, it had really been impressive, I had never heard her sing.

"WOW!" I said surprised "What ..." "Thank you all!!!! That was fun, ”she said smiling and laughing; she started talking about the last song, there was something in her voice that she couldn't decipher. Desperately searching her gaze, she wanted to understand what she meant by everything she was saying, until ... "I dedicate it to ...".

Me…

With a few gentle movements on the keyboard, she began to sing. With every word she said, that came out of her mouth, my world was collapsing. I shouldn't have told her about Kiara, what's more, I shouldn't have dated her, my whole being belonged to (Y / N), my heart, my mind, everything. Tears began to flow from my eyes as soon as I heard the last verse and our eyes finally met among the entire sea of people.

“Why can't we be like that? Wish we could be like that”

The kiss… our first kiss… was the only thing I could think about right now. I told him it was a mistake and I convinced myself that it was just that, a simple mistake, an impulse of stupidity. I wanted to reach out and kiss her again, tell her that that kiss made me realize that I loved her.

"YOU ARE NOT GOING ANYWHERE"

Cameron put his arm around his neck and pointed his gun at his head, while we took aim at him and Hotch, Rossi, and Garcia pulled all the customers out of Joey's bar. We started talking to him and we had the "plan" to try to come to terms, but he kept saying that she hurt him, left him to pieces and things like that, he was really OBSESSED with (Y / N) and had no intention of letting her go. I could see she was up to something to get out of her mooring, I panicked realizing she wasn't going to get out of this unscathed once she started talking to her about Si Me Falta Tu Mirada, one of her favorite songs by the Italian band. Il Volo.

“Tengo en pausa el corazón, abrazado a nada, aferrado a nada… tengo ciega la ilusión, ya no hay mañana...”

Cameron started to drop her, we kept pointing; I managed to get (Y / N) to look at me and I felt my blood freeze when I could read that her lips said "I'm sorry"

"NO!"

Everything happened in slow motion. Three shots rang out: one from David's gun, the other two… from Cam's gun. I held her up before she hit the floor with a wound to the pit of her stomach and one to her chest.

“AGENT DOWN! SEND AN AMBULANCE! " I heard JJ say over the communicator.

“Please, stay with me (Y / N), stay with me” pressing to stop the bleeding “Hey, you'll be alright. Just… stay with me, ok? " "S ... Spence ..." closing her eyes "Open your eyes ... do not close them" "I ..." she started coughing letting a trickle of blood run from the corner of her mouth "Save your strengh, the ambulance is on it's way ..." she only smiled and closed her eyes saying i love you ... "Nonononono, please no !!!" putting a hand on her cheek "(Y / N) please, wake up, open your eyes"

"The ambulance is here !!" I felt someone screaming and grabbing my shoulders away from her when the paramedics approached. "Spence, she’ll be…" "I'm going with her" I said decided "Derek, I'm ..."

"We're loosing her!" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 3rd POV’s

"We're loosing her!"

His world came to a complete stop when she heard that phrase: we are losing her. Derek and Emily took Spencer by the shoulders to slow him down as they tried to get into the ambulance with Penelope and Rossi. We are losing her. Losing ... if they didn't get to the hospital on time ...

Spencer was in automatic mode, she got into the truck covered in blood, her blood.

Derek climbed up with Emily and they started for the hospital. Her gaze was on the window, repeating the scene over and over again in her mind: her eyes were no longer full of life, her face pale as snow, her smile, her voice ... everything about her was fading.

"We're here" he heard and got out of the car almost running to later meet JJ and Hotch, who were already with Rossi and Penelope.

"How’s she? She’s ok? " Spencer said in a whisper "She is in surgery," Rossi mentioned, observing him carefully, "they will try to stabilize her." "Will they try?" while he sat between them with teary eyes and moving her leg "She lost too much blood"

Time passed slowly once the agonizing wait began. JJ, Derek and Rossi practically forced Spencer to get up to wash up and change the shirt he was wearing.

"I know what you're thinking" said Rossi taking a clean T-shirt out of his travel bag "it's not your fault, none of us knew that she would do that" "Nor that Cameron would shoot" Derek put a hand on his shoulder "I know it will be fine" "The last thing she said to me before closing her eyes was 'I love you'" closing his and crying "and I couldn't tell her" "Hey, she's going to get out of this and you'll tell her" Rossi said, standing in front of him next to Derek "and..." “Guys, the doctor’s here” the three of them ran after Hotch to find Dr. Yennefer Silva talking to the rest of her teammates.

"We managed to stabilize her, the chest wound was slight, the ribs managed to stop the impact ..." reviewing her papers "at the moment she is in the intensive care room until she wakes up ..." looking at them all "Can we see it?" Penelope said grabbing her bag "if that ..." "Sure, but only two persons at time" he finally said to guide them to the room where he was (Y / N)

Their gazes began to blur when they saw her on the bed. Pale skin, weak breathing, cables and machines around her, the sound of her heartbeat was the only thing that filled the ears of her friends.

The first to pass were Hotch and Rossi, then JJ and Emily, Derek and Penelope, and finally Spencer, who stared behind the glass for a few minutes trying to gather the courage to enter with (Y / N).

"Guys ..." before entering "did any of you record the song?" almost in a whisper “Yes, I did. I'll send it to you now ”Penelope said and then saw that she slowly entered the room and sat next to her.

Once with her, he took her hand caressing it with his thumb and little by little his eyes began to water again. He felt helpless, anguished, full of fear.

* Come on Spencer, it's now or never. It doesn't matter if she listens to you or not, if you have to repeat it again. You have to tell her that you love her, that Kiara is like a sister, no romanticism ... don't be a coward *

"20% of unconscious patients after surgery or induced in a coma can hear what the other person next to them says, since their brain still has a minimal functional consciousness. I hope you are part of that 20%, although I would not mind repeating it again "he said with a small laugh" what I meant by that is ... that I need to tell you something very important to me and I want you to know it. " he paused for a bit before continuing "remember ... when I said I was dating Kiara? Well… she confessed that she had feelings for me… at first I felt happy, then confused and overwhelmed, I told her that my heart belonged to another person with whom I had a very special bond ” a lump came to his throat before move on with his confession “that person is someone I started working with 1095 days, 4 hours and 20 seconds ago, who makes me laugh with his silly little jokes, who loves coffee, books, classical music and Queen so much like me." * Don't be a coward, say so. Do it at once !!!!!! * “It's you (Y / N). Your personality, your voice, your simplicity, intelligence, the joy that you radiate in each room you enter, your smile… all that and more was what made me realize that you are perfect for me. I'm in love with you. I love you more than anything in this world "on his cheeks he felt the tears that since he entered had been containing" I wish you were not in this state, I would give everything to go back in time and have avoided all this "he took out his phone, checked her messages without letting go of her hand and she found the video that she had asked Penelope for "the song ... the song you wrote made me realize that I am a great stupid, how much I hurt you when I told you about Kiara, how much I love you…"

The hours passed and he did not move from her side at any time. It played the song over and over at a low volume so that he could listen to it without having to be shut up by the passing nurses.

"Hey, Spence, why don't you go rest and eat a little, I'll stay with her" “Don't worry JJ. I'm not hungry." She said almost in a whisper. "Are you sure?" "Yes ..." JJ sat on the other side looking at her; her skin stopped being pale and began to acquire a little more color "I think in a few more hours she will wake up, she is no longer pale" her friend just looked at her "Emily told us she wrote that song on the jet" "If I had spoken before, none of this would be happening" still crying "it's my ..." Interrupting “Don't say that. She will wake up and they can be together "getting up and letting Rossi sit once they stopped talking to the doctor to let them all in" she is strong, she will get out of this, I know Reid "

A slight grip on her hand made her look away, she was waking up. Her heart was beating millions per second, the love of her life was fine! A smile crossed his lips when he saw her open her eyes.

"Hey guys" she said smiling and hoarse voice "Hey little kid" Rossi took her hand "you gave us a big scare" "You were brave trying to get Cameron to put down the gun" Derek stood at the foot of the stretcher "(Y / N / N) !!" Pen said entering with Emily "Oh God !!! I'm glad you woke up !!! " giving him a little hug "Guys, we should go to see the doctor and tell her that she's awake" said Hotch smiling at Reid

"Hey" said (Y / N) once everyone left "Hey ..." taking her hand again "I thought ... I would never see you again" "Spencer" wiping one of her tears "I would never leave your side" "(Y / N) I ... ammm ... I would like to tell you something" "I heard everything" leaving him speechless "R... really?" "Yes" as she tried to sit up with her help "and I must admit I feel silly to have been jealous of Kiara" feeling her cheeks burn Spencer let out a small laugh “So… after you are discharged… do you want to go out for coffee? I know a small bookstore with a cafeteria near my apartment that I had never told you about " "I accept" he said smiling and laughing; she paused when noticing how close they were to each other "Spence ..." "Shh ... don't say anything" and then press his lips next to hers.

The world stopped for a few moments. They looked forward to that kiss, it was as if the sun and the moon collided in a perfect eclipse of the sun on an autumn afternoon.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD" they both turned to see Penelope along with everyone standing at the door. They both let out a small laugh and we looked at them smiling.

"I guess they should make it official, right?" Hotch said entering with everyone and congratulating them both.

----------------------------------------------------

#Criminal Minds #Aaron Hotchner #Derek Morgan #Penelope Garcia #Emily Prentiss #David Rossi #Spencer Reid #Spencer Reid x Reader #Spencer Reid x (Y/N)#Spencer Reid x Y/N #Spencer reid fanfic #Spencer Reid x You #Spencer Reid fanfiction

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amindofstone · 3 years

Text

Listen up!

a/n: picture is not mine. Credits to the rightful owner. & I would love to see what y´al think about this. I would also really appreciate it if this gets a like. Thank you in advance. Have a nice day/eve.

Words: 976

Warnings: None (maybe grammar or spelling mistakes. (I apologize. English is not my mother tongue and I´m trying to improve.) Have mercy)

!!! Please do not steal my idea or work. Credit me please if this is shared or published in any other platform. !!!

}

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Imagine. You are in school and you are having a subject you are really good in. You are sitting next to your partner while working on the presentation you have to finish and present in two weeks. The person you are working with is next to you one of the best students in the class.

Two weeks pass and you are presenting what you have worked on. And guess what you are getting 100 point. An A+. But the class is not happy with that and complains while saying that you only got the good grade because of your partner. How do you feel? Horrible, right? Horrible because you know that you put as much effort, work and time in it as your project partner. I personally can tell you that I would have cried. Having to hear that people see you lower than the person with whom you worked with is frustrating and depressing. It demotivates one and makes one lose confidence.

You see as a Monbebe I am really disappointed on how Shownu gets criticized after his performance with Ten. I absolutely don´t understand why some people think that spreading hate, giving bad comments and degrading Shownu is ok. They both worked hard for that. They both practiced that and worked their ass off. So please show some respect!!!

But the reason why I am actually writing this is not the issue with Shownu. I am writing this as a Kpop lover. As someone who is in love with Kpop since January 2016. I am a multistan. I am in multiple fandoms and I absolutely don´t regret that.

But there is something that always makes me want to smash my head against the wall. Throw my phone out of the window and send the person that invented the internet and social media to hell.

Why? Why on earth do so many people think that spreading hate over other artists is a good idea?! (Like are you dumb, stupid or dumb?!) Guys please. Please!! If you don’t like an artist than just avoid that person. If you don’t like an artist than just don’t watch their videos or any content with them. If they are in something with your faves in it than just focus on your idol/artist. Don´t start talking shit about other artists. Don’t waste your time and energy on hating. Spend that on loving and supporting your idols! Hating on people won´t get you anywhere. Trust me. It won´t get you money, success, love or good health conditions. It will only make people hate you. If for example your idol/groups is nominated somewhere but does not win there is no reason to actually get mad and hate on the winner. For f*cks sake! Your idol is not the only one that works his/her butt off to get somewhere and achieve something!

I really don´t know in what kind of surroundings and households people grow up in but I can tell you something about mine.

I was taught that showing respect towards other humans is one of the most important things in life. Respecting people makes others respect and love you too. I learned that just being nice can have a huge impact on a human being. You never know what a person feels, thinks or goes through. But by just being nice and respectful one can give the world to others.

Fanwars are stupid and unnecessary. While there are some immature people who start up stupid fights with other fandomes the artists are actually having fun with each other. While some start up with stupid fights the idols are cheering on each other and praise each other. They hang out with each other and support each other. They listen to each other’s songs or even look up to each other.

I am a dedicated kpop fan who sees herself as part of quite a bunch of fandomes. But never ever had I send hate to groups I didn´t knew or didn´t liked. Because I knew that sending hate to other groups/idols/artists wouldn´t get my favorite artist/group more recognition nor success. It will only get them famous as the artist/group who´s fandome spreads hate towards other artists. (And I´m sure that we all know some fandomes who do that constantly. And do we like them? No we don´t. We hate them.)

I really would like to write more but this already got really long. Just please know that hating on others won´t get you anywhere and that it´s simply stupid and immature. Just think about your idol and how he/she would react if they knew that their fandome is spreading hate towards other artist. Don´t forget that every idol goes through hell and back just to debut. They do not work their asses off just to get hated on. Idols also have a private life. They also have likings and disliking. They also have hobbies and friends. They are not perfect. They also have their flaws because they are human. Humans with feelings just like you and me. Even if you don´t like them, make sure to respect them as humans. Respect them as humans just like you want to be respected.

As for now this is it. Happy new year to anyone who´s reading this. I hope you achieve anything you wanted in this year. Take care of yourselves and love yourselves. Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Eat lots of food. And don´t forget to drink water. Water is important people!

P.s.: I just have to do this (#SorrynotSorry). Stream…

· “Love Killa by Monsta X” for lots of love and happiness in 2021

· “Dive by iKON” for success and health in 2021

· “Aya by Mamamoo” for your dreams to come true in 2021

Oh and…

SUPPORT AND LOVE WONHO/LEE HOSEOK & KIM HANBIN FOR CLEAR SKIN!!!!!

Okay I´m done now. BYE!!

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indiavolowetrust · 4 years

Text

Matthew 7:7

SUMMARY: "Ask, and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you."

Satan tutors a particularly curious, chatty student.

Notes: This MC is based on various female saints. Prior to falling into the Devildom, this MC lived in Catholic rural Spain -- hence the name Maria Cruz (MC). This fic explores the possibility of demons having their own language outside of the MC's native language, as well as Satan's inner wrathful nature.

My head pulses with the reverberation of the rain, the battering against the windowpane a thunderous, steady march. While I can’t quite fathom how the Devildom has changes in weather -- outside of temperature changes, that is -- it is difficult to do anything but take the anomaly in stride. In a realm crowded with demons, angels, and beings dangerously akin to monsters, it would be only a headache to dwell on it. A waste of time.

But aside from that, it is comforting. A vague resemblance to a typical autumnal rain. If I close my eyes for a moment, I can almost imagine that I am in one of Sister Marta’s classes again: bored, tapping my pen against the wooden desk, and on the verge of sleep, the sound lulling me into a placid state. Sister Marta would drone on and on about the syntax and grammar of Latin, citing various points in scripture. My pen would scrawl doodles and notes alike, creating looping whorls on my paper. And the occasional running line for each time I nodded off, of course. The storm would rage on and on, drawing my eyes to the rivulets of droplets on the window, and my patience and attention would slowly slip into nothingness.

I regret doing so each and every day that I spend in the Devildom.

I take another glance at the two books strewn on the desk, attempting to focus again. A compilation of notes sits beneath my hand, the two tomes in Latin and Enoch flipped open to what should be the same page. My fingers cramp from writing so much, protesting the constant workload, but I wholly ignore the sensation. If I had paid more attention in Latin class, I would be able to translate Enoch better. If I hadn’t drifted off so much and ignored Sister Marta, I wouldn’t have such a noticeable accent when speaking to the demons of the Devildom. If I hadn’t spent so much time daydreaming about the end of the school day, I wouldn’t have embarrassed myself upon my first arrival in the Devildom. My skin still bristles at the memory: my complete bewilderment, combined with the Lord Diavolo’s lack of foresight to provide me with a translator, had only led to disaster.

A complete idiot, some part of me says, chiding me. You looked like a complete idiot, spouting off nonsensical phrases in Latin.

Then again, it wasn’t as if I had really believed in demons or angels before. How was I supposed to know that the language of the demons was only a derivative of Latin?

Another clap of thunder nearly shakes the House of Lamentation’s foundation. I read the hands of the grandfather clock: it is only half past midnight. Plenty of time to finish the last five pages of translations and vocabulary practice. I will myself to understand the texts before me, gripping the pen tightly in my hands. I force my eyes to focus. If I am to survive the remainder of my exchange year at RAD, I would have to do a much better job at hiding my humanity -- starting with disguising my Spanish accent. But the words only blur in my vision again, the call of sleep urging my eyelids to close, and I feel myself sway unsteadily in the chair. The stress and fatigue from work hits me all at once. The lull of the storm sings to me, exacerbating my exhaustion. My pen begins to drift off the paper. My head nods forward.

“Maria?”

I blink, immediately forcing myself back to consciousness again. My eyes scan the library, drawing itself over rows of bookshelves and dark mahogany tables. The dim lamp on the desk is dim and flickering, casting long shadows across the room.

And Satan stands in the doorway, looking just as surprised as I am.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, hand still on the doorknob.

I glance down at my notes. I’ve drifted far enough into sleep that I’ve drawn a crooked line over the preexisting words, I realize with embarrassment. I quickly hide the ruined sheet. “Just studying,” I respond. “It’s -- it’s late, isn’t it? What are you doing here?”

Satan arches a brow. “Well, aren’t we curious?”

“Ah, I didn’t mean --”

“No, no, it’s fine,” he dismisses, throwing a smile my way. It does nothing to disarm me, nor does it ease my sense of embarrassment. He reaches one of the bookshelves in the corner of the room with long strides and pulls a book off the shelf, evidently acquainted with the contents and layout of the library. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I would read something to relax. I left one of my favorite novels here.”

I nod, trying to hide my discomfort. “I see.”

I look down on my notes again, reading over the newly written content, but I make sure to keep a wary watch over Satan out of the corner of my eye. While traveling to the human world with Satan, Lucifer, and Mammon had helped in forming the bonds between Satan and Lucifer, I cannot say the same for myself. Only a few weeks have passed since Satan’s outburst. Since his threats of, verbatim, slicing off my nose and ears, ripping off my arms and legs, and feeding me to the lower-level demons. While it is easy for someone like Lucifer to simply overlook the transgression, being a demon, it is much more difficult for a human like me to forget the terrifying experience. Satan had clearly meant to make good on his word. If Lucifer hadn’t stepped in, I would likely be nothing more than a pile of torn flesh and bone.

“You’ve gotten pretty proficient,” Satan’s voice says over my shoulder.

I nearly startle out of my chair, turning towards the source of the voice. Satan stands to the side of the desk, leaning as he regards my notes. His gaze draws itself over my notes and the tomes with interest. I shrink back instinctively from his presence, still caught in surprise. Thankfully, he doesn’t notice. The wrathful demon simply nods, as if satisfied by my work.

“So this is how you’ve become fluent so quickly,” Satan remarks, green eyes lighting up. “Tell me, are all humans like this?”

I shake my head. “Not really. It’s -- I just figured it would be a good idea if I learned more Enoch,” I explain hastily, my hands already working to close the tomes and collect my notes. “Didn’t want a repeat of the first few weeks of school.”

“Well, it was almost incomprehensible when you first started.”

My cheeks flush. “I --”

“And you’ve improved significantly,” he says. “You should be proud of yourself, human.”

There it is again: that brilliant, faux smile. I merely nod in acknowledgment and utter a small thank you as I gather the rest of my things, closing each tome with finality. Satan steps back as I stand from my seat, bearing various notes, notebooks, and a pen in my hands, and I do my best to offer him a smile in return. A goodbye gesture of sorts. If I am to have my choice in the situation, I will not spend another moment in Satan’s presence. Not alone, anyway. It is late, as it is. He probably wouldn’t be too offended if I made the excuse of exhaustion. I begin to make my way past him, the excuse falling from my lips.

Satan catches me by the arm. I flinch as I regard him, both the surprise and fear registering on my features before I can stop myself -- and Satan lets go immediately, the facade slipping almost imperceptibly. He draws his hand back to his side, the action creating distance between us once more. I stare awkwardly at him for a moment.

“I can tutor you, if you would like,” Satan finally says, breaking the silence. “Tomorrow, same place.”

Say no. Just outright refuse, my conscience advises, attempting to build my resolve. You can tutor yourself just as well as that demon can. Just say no and he’ll leave it alone.

* * *

The tip of the pen emerges from its casing with a gentle click, Satan’s fingers wrapped securely around its base. His eyes scour my written translation for a moment, peering over the frames of his reading glasses. He scratches corrections onto the paper after a moment, then pushes the notebook towards me. His pen taps on the various scrawlings.

Satan pushes his reading glasses up the bridge of his nose, “This word is pretty close, but there are too many connotations for it,” he explains. He writes out various characters in Enoch, pronouncing the syllables of each word. “It’s a bit more formal, but it’ll probably get your point across a little more clearly. Your professors will probably appreciate that.”

I take a look over Satan’s writings, comparing them to the text. As promised -- or mildly coerced, depending on how I regard the circumstances -- Satan had met me in a small library of the House of Lamentation, at least several high-grade novels and other books piled high before him. And, as expected, Satan is nothing but strict in his teachings. Each wrong stroke of an Enochian character leads to a quick, ruthless correction, Satan immediately scratching out the mistakes. Each wrong pronunciation of a word in Enoch incites a tsk from him, his typical gentlemanly countenance making way for his true nature. While it is somewhat reassuring that the demon no longer feels a need to hide his nature from me -- therefore making his outbursts more predictable if they do occur -- I still can’t quite shake the discomfort. The contrast between his outward and inward nature is unsettling.

I sigh inwardly, dispelling the thought. If I had really wanted to refuse, I should have done so right then and there. Because I was given a choice, wasn’t I? An implied choice. I could have said no. I could have refused. But then a memory had suddenly occurred to me, and I found myself completely stripped of my will.

Don’t you dare trifle with me, human, Satan’s voice echoes, the memory still fresh and palpable. If you dare say that you won’t make a pact with me again, you’ll pay for it with your --

“What’s wrong?” asks Satan, casting a glance at the space underneath my pen. Empty. “Is there something you don’t understand?”

I blink, then quickly shake my head. “No, I was -- I was just thinking about something.”

“Like what?”

My mind searches for an excuse, eyes inadvertently scrutinizing his appearance. While one would normally wear something more comfortable and casual for bed, Satan is dressed in an almost formal sweater and sweatpants that could be taken for slacks, his hair still perfectly mussed and styled from the school day. Nothing about him is undone. The meticulously thought-out details make me feel nearly out of place with my borrowed, oversized sweater, pyjama pants, and pineapple-like bun of curls sitting on top of my head. A slovenly effort when compared to Satan.

My eyes land on the reading glasses perched on top of his nose.

“Do you need those?” I ask, distracting myself from my own thoughts. “I always imagined demons were all-powerful. Did you have to go to a doctor in the human world to find your prescription?”

Satan looks surprised for a moment, as if he hadn’t expected me to comment. Or notice, depending on how low his expectations of humans are. “Well, no, but I thought they seemed appropriate.”

“You thought I would learn faster if you looked the part?”

“You like to ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” he counters, clearing his throat. “Curiosity killed the cat -- isn’t that what you humans always say?”

“‘Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back,” I recite, correcting him. I lean in closer to peer at his glasses, my curiosity overtaking my unease around the demon for a moment. The glass is thin, free of any curve in the glass. Moreover, they bear a plain yet distinctive design -- akin to what a gumshoe in a noir novel would wear. My mind flashes back to the book he had pulled off the shelf the other night. “They aren’t real.”

Satan gives me a withering look. “If you knew that, then why did you ask?”

“You’re wearing them because you want to look like Detective Vic Stone from Masking the Shadow,” I observe. Satan’s impassive facade falls for a moment, his flustered state suddenly apparent, and a sense of victory nearly quirks my lips into a smile. A strange sense of victory over the wrathful, figuratively masked demon -- but a victory nonetheless. “You can correct me if I’m wrong.”

Satan brings a hand to his face, partially obscuring the flush over his features. “You try my patience too much. If you have any other questions, I would suggest you ask them now.”

“Just one.”

“I’ll make sure to bind your mouth next time.”

“How much would you like to be paid per session?” I ask, ignoring his words. “I work part-time, so there isn’t really a --”

He cuts me off. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” I echo, confused. “If this is because you think me incapable of compensating you, you are sorely mistaken.”

He sighs, obscuring his face as he focuses his attention back on the Enochian tome. Adjusts his glasses again. “Why wouldn’t I?” Satan says matter-of-factly, as if I should be aware of the answer. “That would be like refusing to take home a kitten in the rain. There’s no reason why I wouldn’t help you.”

“But --”

My words die in my throat as Satan places his hand on my head, patting my pineapple-like bun of curls as if I were truly a pet. That fake, polite smile graces his features once more. “You ask too many questions,” he says, his tone halfway to a threat. “Work.”

part 2

#obey me shall we date #obey me!#obey me satan #obey me fanfic #original character #writing #writing practice

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365text · 4 years

Note

where do you learn mandarin writing from? Any resources! I’m a fluent speaker but can barely write or read...but a lot of resources are catered for beginners...

okay my answer turned out to be pretty long, so i’ll include most of it under a cut HA;SLDKF;AOW

tl;dr tho: i can give u a textbook that i’m currently using, some general tips for what i’ve found to help me with chinese, and an app that i use to help me translate characters!

for the chinese textbook PDF that i’m currently using, it’s the textbook they used at my college for heritage speakers (ie. native speakers that need more emphasis on reading/writing), though i’m not sure if it was developed for that purpose haha. the first 10 or so chapters are for “level 1″, next 10 or so for “level 2″ and so forth.

the textbook includes grammar notes at the end of the reading, pinyin for the first ~17 lessons, and exercises to complete as well! also, since you said “barely write or read”, i’m assuming u have a lil’ bit of writing/reading under your belt? o: which should hopefully help u get started once u have a textbook to work off of ^-^ one thing to note though, is that though a traditional version of the lesson is provided in the textbook, it’s largely simplified-oriented (ie. exercises are in simplified, the formatting is a little more catered towards the simplified version, etc.)

also full disclaimer, i went to chinese school since i was a wee kid, i had a p good foundation for reading/writing when i began, so i just started from a later lesson in the textbook this summer to correspond with where i was at in terms of my language journey :’)

but ! i’m also helping my boyfriend (re)learn chinese this summer using this textbook, and he’s p much in the same boat as u except idek if he counts as a Fluent Speaker ™ HAHA and i think it’s working p well for him! the pinyin translation helps a lot, since as a fluent speaker, you’ll probably be able to recognize most (if not all) of the words by sound even if not by character, which helps to speed up the reading/writing learning process a lot.

and in terms of some general learning tips for chinese that i’ve found helpful:

learn your radicals! a lot people think chinese is just a jumble of strokes, but in reality there is (oftentimes, more or less of a) rhyme or reason to how the characters are structured. radicals provide meaning to the character, which can help a lot in remembering how a character is written. tho tbf, with simplified characters (and through natural history of time and evolution of languages), the direct relation is sometimes more obsfucated, but it still helps overall!

similarly, the other side of the character provides a clue as to how the character sounds! again, this isn’t Always the Case, but it’s true for a lot of characters, and helps a lot to guess what a character sounds like / means, even if you don’t fully recognize it.

sometimes i can even guess how to write or read a character, by trying to piece together what i know of the radical/other part of the character :”)

as an example: 批 means “to criticize” or “slap”. going with that latter definition, we can notice that:

扌：is the radical for hand 比 (bí) : provides the phonetic element (ish) LOL like i said it’s not always a perfect match, but u can kinda see how they go together, and remembering this helps me remember how to write the character :”)

i’d go thru the process of finding the radical and the sound of the remaining portion of the character (+ searching up other similar sounding words) to try and better remember/understand a new character that i’m learning

also, as for all languages (and especially for reading/writing chinese because of all the dAMn strokes LOL): repetition is key! u can see an example of what i do here~

when i first start off, i write down all the characters i don’t know + their pinyin + their meaning, and maybe some examples of what they mean / came from to help me remember.

and then, i’ll write the characters i don’t know anywhere from 5-10 times in one sitting, depending on the complexity of the character & my unfamiliarity with it to practice getting used to the strokes.

and then after that initial “learning”, i’ll test myself every following day by trying to rewrite the characters based on the pinyin only, and if i mess up / forget, then i make myself write that character/phrase another 5-10 times LOL

i keep doing this until i can write all the phrases (and remember their meaning) with no mistakes~

also i think reading the lesson out loud is rly important too — reading in your mind vs. reading it out loud is a different experience, i find! if you struggle with knowing certain characters, i would pull up the pinyin version alongside it (or writing the pinyin on top of characters u don’t know) as reference, and gradually moving away from using the pinyin by the end of your time with that lesson (kinda similar to how i practice with writing the new characters)

sitting down & doing the exercises is def good practice too, esp. when it comes to writing a short essay using the words from the lesson! if you have anyone you know (ie. parents, etc.) that can read over your sentences to make sure everything looks good, that’d be great too hehe

would also recommend the pleco app! i use it to help me translate words i don’t recognize sometimes, or to provide more context as to the meaning of the phrases. there might be better apps out there, but i’ve found this one p good for my needs so far :”)

phew okie !! sorry that was so...long but it’s everything i could think of right now for studying chinese. lmk if you’d be interested in the pdf (you might also be able to find it online, it’s called: oh! china LOL. but also....i found this PDF of the textbook i had used in chinese school at some point online, so if u wanna check that out instead, seems like a p solid option too 👀)

#reply #anon #mandarin #chinese #langblr #language tips #studyblr #mytips #also bruh im tilted i swear u could have indented bullet points before ?? but the formatting isn't showing up on my dash

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snapback-gravity-falls · 4 years

Note

what are your top 5 tips for staying on top of writing? Owo?

(Tumblr hated me and wouldn’t let me answer for a while, sorry for the late response)You’ve probably asked the wrong person for this question, but here are some helpful tips I’ve always used and have come to recently practice:

1. Write it down when able (using any medium you prefer). Look, I’ve been doing this since high school and when I tell you it helps, it helps. A scene comes to mind, write it down so you don’t forget it. It gives me inspiration to get to that point in the plot. Doesn’t matter if it’s near the end, just write it down. You can have a dozen scenes in your head scattered around the plot, write them and connect them later.

2. Don’t fix anything immediately. Just hammer through, you can fix anything later. If you’re going back to remember what the heck you wrote in order to continue writing and catch something, then fix it if you want, but don’t go back and fix all the grammar mistakes and stuff. It’ll drain you and you’ll probably not end up writing further or just start over again. Don’t do that to yourself. Push through your first draft.

3. Random Generators are your best friends. Names are difficult. Titles, characters, nations, worlds, etc. Often times I think of a character, how they do in the plot, but I have no idea what to name them. Just go to your local browser search and type in “random name generator” and go ham until you find one that sounds like it fits your character. Heck, sometimes you have a name and everything, but you’ve got no idea what they look like. Do the same thing and just crank through until you find a description you like. Very basic advice, but one that I lean on heavily. Recently found one I really like, it gives you age, background, their looks, etc. Use the link if you wanna try it out.

4. Writing a little is still a lot. This is still one I struggle with, but I’m finding it works a lot. Even if you write one sentence, that’s one step closer to your end goal. You don’t have to write 200+ words every time, you can just write a little and move on. Sitting there struggling through burnout sucks, but unless you’ve got a deadline, just take it easy and write as you’re inspired no matter how little. Anytime that number of words changes is progress!

5. Go back to what inspired you every now and again. Whether it’s fanfiction or your own original work, this seriously helps get the engine running in tearing through whatever you plan on writing. Gardening, history, a television show, whatever it may be, it’ll help you bounce back from writer’s block even if it’s just for a few hundred words. It helps me a lot with any fics I’ve started to remember my end goal and plot points to get them done (not that I’ve finished anything, but I’ve definitely gotten a few paragraphs on some of the works I’m working on).

#nour386 #snapback answers questions #writing tips #writing tips from a fanfic writer #this is not what I originally typed out since it never saved my original but this is the best advice I can give #hope it helps a writer out there #ask me questions!

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hellsparadiseessays · 5 years

Text

Aza Brothers Week - Day 3

Part II of my essay on the Aza Brothers, initially posted on r/Jigokuraku back in April/May. Reading it again cracks me up tbh, I usually suck at guessing authors’ intents, but this time it seems I managed to be right on pretty much everything, which still blows my mind. More under the cut!

Aza bros, an analysis – Part II: an essay on Tao, Lord Tensen and how Chôbe may not die so soon

As a disclaimer, three things need to be mentioned. First, thy enter spoiler territory; flee while thy can, new reader! Second, I am not Japanese/Chinese nor raised in Japan/China, so my take is solely based on the academic documents I read, what I know and what I understand. If there’s a mistake in my understanding, please, feel free to address it. Third, English is not my native language, so while I’m fluent in it, I don’t promise a 100% quality and may make some grammar mistakes here and there. On this note, let’s start a needlessly academic write up. I hope you’ll deem it an enjoyable or educative read.

The first part of this essay focused on Chôbe and Toma, their dynamic and how society keeps influencing them despite their rejection of it. Now that this whole part about their past and present is explained, we can turn our attention towards the potential future for them. Well, mostly for Chôbe, since this part of the essay has been modified in light of chapter 54, which gave us Toma’s immediate goal: getting stronger by training with Tamiya, so he can save his brother (and be on equal foot with him, especially when it comes to murdering everybody - Toma, you sneaky bastard, ily but be careful, Shion may be onto you). Things may not end up being that easy considering a whole boat full of ninjas is on its merry way to get Gabimaru’s head, but hey, the group may split up as a consequence of this specific mess. Considering that, the second part of the essay on our good brothers will be focused on Tao, Chôbe and Lord Tensen, and will be more opinion-based than the previous one (though textual evidences will be brought up to explain said opinions).

1. What is Tao and how does it work?

Tao has been defined both in-story and through u/gamria’s posts on this very subreddit (latest post here), so I will mostly sum things up a bit before going on yet another long rant about Chôbae.

Like Gamria summed up, Tao irl means “The Way” and is tied to a philosophy of life that allows one to live in harmony with the world. This state of perfection can be reached through various exercises involving alchemy, physiology and even specific sexual practices to prolong one’s life and reach immortality.

Now I’m not explaining further because you have the aforementioned essays on that matter, and because I’m having trouble wrapping my head around it so giving a clear explanation is tough. Instead, let’s see which elements of Taoism can be found in Jigokuraku and how they are explained in-story.

• Yin and Yang: they represent the duality between everything. Shion explains it well: "Tapping into this power demands a balanced spirit. Not too intense... Not too tranquil...”, “the interstice between rage and serenity... That duality. You must push your spirit to reach such a state.” (chapter 29) Lord Tensen also exemplifies it by switching between feminine and masculine – the energies represented by Yin and Yang.

• Tao: separated from Chi in the manga, yet with a similar function. It’s the life force that, once mastered, allows one to gain strength and perform notably better in battle (among other things).

• Waidan: the Outer Alchemy, one of the two forms of Taoist alchemy. It involves the use and mix of various elements found in nature (mineral, vegetal, animal) and constitutes a way to reach immortality. We’ve seen a lot of examples of it since our band of misfits arrived on the island: the Soshin, Monshin, the way Tan is produced, even Lord Tensen themselves – they are born from the mix between various elements found in nature, to produce something new that ranges from the technical fodder half human-half animal to a sort of elixir of life (Tan) based on humans mixed with plants to Lord Tensen (half plant-half human, with a very precise choice of plant to maximise the potential of Yin and Yang – and thus, of Tao – by having beings that are physically hermaphrodite).

• Neidan: the Inner Alchemy, the other form of Taoist alchemy. A mix of Waidan, cosmology and the Five Elements, it’s a system that makes one perceive their body as a cauldron in which the Three Treasures (Jing – Essence, Qi – Breath, Shen – Spirit) are worked in a manner that’ll allow a physical and emotional improvement through unity, leading to the immortality sought by Taoism.

• Five Elements: we literally got drawings and explanations about that one in the manga, so TL;DR it’s the sequence of Wood – Fire – Earth – Metal – Water constantly generating positive or negative interactions in a cyclic way. Wood feeds Fire, the Ash becomes Earth, from the Earth is born Metal, Metal can bear Water, Water makes Wood grow. Wood cracks Earth, Fire bends Metal, Earth absorbs Water, Metal cuts Wood, Water puts Fire out. These elements are also associated with seasons (Wood/Spring, Fire/Summer, Earth/late Summer (harvests), Metal/Autumn, Water/Winter) as well as moods, planets, colours or even Cardinal directions. As explained by the characters, everybody has one type dominating the others, and can act accordingly to it – be it by figuring out the appropriate strategy in a fight or understanding from which place X physical issue comes from, how to heal it and so on.

I’m probably missing some things, but that’s what caught my attention according to what I gathered from external sources and what I noticed in the manga. I’ll use these points to explain my personal take on Chôbe’s strength and what his future may look like, as well points out some interesting details about Lord Tensen and the way things seem to go in Hourai.

2. Lord Tensen: office politics is also a thing in Paradise

The island, described as Paradise and the place where the Elixir of Life can be found, truly is an amusing place. Its inhabitants are so human, no matter how much they try to get past this condition through all the means they can. First, you have people like Hoko, unfortunate souls who’ve been thoroughly manipulated and clearly seen as utter fools by Lord Tensen. Then you have the Soshin and Monshin, who’re seen as nothing more than failures. Then you have the Doshi, the disciples, who’re not there yet but fine enough to be the optional servants of Lord Tensen. Then you have the seven forms of Lord Tensen, which have displayed individual characteristics in their appearance, abilities and personalities. Zhu Jin is mocked for his loss against Shion (and his loss of Tao as well, which resulted in his body looking older), Ju Fa clearly has a short fuse and a violent disposition, Mu Dan is the local Mad Scientist who’s ready to give one’s a chance if one’s shows the potential for it (hi, Yuzuriha), Ratana Taisei seems to be the local mood maker and Rien is the leader (and Mad Scientist-in-Chief) who’s obeyed by the others without questions. However, Rien doesn’t seem to just be in charge of his fellow Tensen, it looks like he’s also in charge of overseeing the entire island. He’s the one showing distrust about Ju Fa’s confirmation on whether or not Chôbe and Toma were dealt with, and he’s the one who sent one of the Doshi to make sure they were Tan material. Later, when Mu Dan is killed (and since the Doshi sent to the Tan pit didn’t come back), he takes matters into his own hands and that’s how he ends up meeting Chôbe.

And let’s not forget Mei, who’s a proper wrench in the entire system by running around instead of being used as Bochu Jutsu material by the Doshi. No matter how seemingly godly Lord Tensen is, they clearly cannot foresee the consequences their actions may have. Ju Fa’s brutality may cause a rift among the seven, Rien accidentally gave free informations to our band of misfits by banishing Mei for her impurity, forcing her to consume Tan and giving her to the Doshi – thus creating a resentment that’ll come back to bite his backside, probably in the form of a small, fire-using ninja and his gang.

Considering these observations about the local politics of Kotaku, we can consider Chôbe’s future from a perspective larger than the one we get from a single weekly read of the new chapters.

3. Chôbe’s strength and potential: impure or new step forward?

Even before he sets a foot on Kotaku, Chôbe’s strength is pointed out when he literally kicks a man 6 feet in the air. The lad’s crazy physical strength is made obvious first during the fight against the other criminals, then when he deals with the Soshin and even picks a giant axe to clear the place more easily (funnily enough, that axe belonged to an Oni-like Soshin, the implications for Chôbe are amusing).

But the real deal about Chôbe’s potential becomes evident during the fight against the Doshi. After having been thrown in the Tan pit and having been somewhat invaded by the plants here, a shift happened and Chôbe became able to wield and read Tao. Not perfectly, but he picked up on it awfully fast, the Doshi openly acknowledged it in chapter 30: “this man is powerful, and yet considerably fatigued. It takes all he has to remain standing. This is only a bluff, a glimpse at his Tao reveals as much” at the beginning of the fight (considering the siblings had been beaten and thrown into the Tan pit some time before, it’s expected for Chôbe to be tired), “he possesses the aptitude, but has far to go” later during their fight, and he even uses the word “astounding” twice in relation to Chôbe’s fighting abilities. In chapter 31, a swift change happens in the way the Doshi perceives Chôbe: “this man’s Tao... It seems to have grown... In such a short period of time?” and “I can tell... This man is dangerous. A threat to Lord Tensen. He must be killed here. Now.” The Doshi even considers Chôbe’s progress and almost instantaneous understanding of the way to wield Tao “impossible”. Well, looks like it is possible when you’re the ever observant Aza Chôbe. Because that man may look and act like a beast, but he is far from being one – save for the fight against Gabimaru (during which he lost his mental balance), he demonstrated how clear his mind is during a fight, and do you know how he started understanding the way Tao works? By seeing it with his right eye. The blind one. As soon as we see him figure it all out, a panel is dedicated to this eye, wide open with a faintly visible pupil. That means he managed to calmly pull off what Shion has been doing for years while in the middle of a fight. Later, during his fight against Gabimaru, he went even further by managing to instinctively master his new form: he managed to turn his left arm into a sort of giant axe, thus showing the readers how he’s slowly managing to transcend his condition as a puny human.

Considering point 2 and what has been aforementioned, we can thus draw some conclusions about the path that may await Chôbe.

First, his growth relies on the balance between his rage and his calm (Professor Shion worded it perfectly), so while I’m not worrying too much about Toma for now, the same may not be said of Chôbe. I was thinking that before, but in light of chapter 54 and Toma’s decision, I suspect Chôbe may need Toma much more than Toma needs him. Plus, while his brother was protected and had time to swallow all the terrible things that happened to them, the same cannot be said of Chôbe, who still has a lot of hangs up (see Part I of this essay), the very hangs up that had him lose his mind while fighting Gabimaru. The entire scene when he finds himself facing that dark mass intrigues me. Is it the result of an imbalance, or the effect of the vines and consumption of Soshin blood that changed something in him? It was a stark opposition with the way Gabimaru’s flashbacks are expressed: while Gabi’s flashbacks tend to have this light about them, Chôbe’s flashback was dark, confused, suffocating. Seeing it caused Chôbe to not see Gabimaru anymore, and just lash out at everything that hurt him regardless of its nature. Our Bandit King will probably have to face all that to find a proper balance and gain further mastery over his new found abilities.

I mentioned the consumption of Soshin blood to stay hydrated, and this is my second point about Chôbe’s potential fate. We could suspect it with the way Tan is produced and consumed by Lord Tensen, but chapter 54 was clear about it: to survive, living beings full of Tao must be consumed, and that’s exactly what Chôbe did out of survival. Rien qualified him of “impure”, just like Mei (who needs to consume Tao from an external source to avoid arborification and had her Tanden destroyed), which has been treated like a failure. But does it really mean Chôbe is a failure? Remember, the Doshi openly found him amazing and even dangerous for Lord Tensen. So where Rien saw failure in Mei, will he see the same in Chôbe? Considering the short amount of time spent on the island (3-4 days), and considering Rien is one of the local Mad Scientists, it is possible that he’ll pick on Chôbe’s abnormal abilities and will take note of it. Maybe he’ll even take him to Hourai, where I’m sure Ratana Taisei would be delighted to meet him again – remember the encounter with her and Ju Fa, back in chapter 16? Taisei openly expressed her interest in Chôbe (“he’s cute”), and we already saw what was going on in the Palace (a literal pool to train and private beds for some Bochu Jutsu). Considering Yuzuriha nearly had a taste of it with Mu Dan, I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it was what actually happened to Chôbe. The one thing that worries me about his situation is the issue with arborification, which may or may not end up being a long-term problem for him depending on what may happen if he goes to the Palace and learn more about Tao.

But do you know what would be hilarious about the entire situation with Lord Tensen? Considering his unruly nature and sneaky behaviour (in chapter 30, he stayed down and waited for the Doshi to approach before ripping his throat out), I wouldn’t put it past Chôbe to play the card of the wolf among sheeps, stealing what Lord Tensen has to offer before wrecking some havoc in the Palace. That would be fitting of a Bandit King, don’t you think?

Well, this is all for now, I guess? Like I said, this second part is more me giving my opinion and taking wild guesses based on what I noticed in the manga. It’s also me ranting about Chôbe, because of course that’s what I do ever since I discovered that amazing character. I hope you found this read enjoyable or informative, a part 3 may happen depending on the material we get. In the mean time, I’m totally expecting UG to contradict some of the speculations I made. Oh well, we’ll see. I don’t even think I’ll be mad, because his handling of the story until now has been 10/10 to be honest. Re-reading the manga told me that much.

#jigokuraku #hell's paradise #chôbe #tôma #essay #my stuff

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