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daisynik7 · 1 year

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In Between

Pairing: Eren x f!reader x Reiner

Genre: college au, one-shot

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: ~4.5k

cw: threesome, cunnilingus, nipple play, blow job, vaginal sex (doggy), creampie, horny reader (I mean, who isn’t), pet names, use of the term ‘big brother’, but there is no actual incest here I swear and I’m so sorry. This is just filth.

Summary: Your “big brothers” from Alpha Tau fraternity take care of you for a night.

Notes: OKAY, so I’ve had this in the back of my mind for a while now. Fun fact for those of you who have read my other series Rush: I originally wanted to make it an Eren x f!reader x Reiner fic but was intimidated about writing a love triangle, so I axed it. Instead, here’s porn with little plot to satisfy this itch. Enjoy! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated, I would LOVE to hear what y’all think!

Additional Notes: This might be the smuttiest one I’ve written so far, idk, you be the judge. As always, READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. Also, think of this as an alternate universe to Rush, I’m using a lot of details from it, but there is no correlation. Okay, I’m done talking, have fun.

It’s a Sunday night and Sigma Nu Kappa begins their first chapter meeting of the spring semester. Petra Ral, your sorority’s social chair, stands at the podium, a delighted smile on her face. “Good evening, sisters! I have very exciting news: Alpha Tau has agreed to pair with us this semester! This means we’ll be joining them to collaborate on charity events and most importantly, social gatherings.”

There’s a collection of giggles and pleased hums. Mikasa, your big sister and best friend, nudges you. “This should be fun.”

Although the two of you are the same age, Mikasa rushed SNK as a freshman, you joined as a sophomore this past fall. She picked you to be her “little sister” when you were a pledge, adopting you into her family line called The Angels. Since then, the two of you have been inseparable.

Petra continues. “A neat thing we’ll be doing is combining families! We’ll be assigning each of our family lines to one in Alpha Tau. Consider them your ‘big brothers’. FYI, these were assigned at random.”

She passes a stack of papers to each row. When you get yours, you try to find which family you’re being paired with. Before you can, Mikasa scoffs. “Of course.”

Next to The Angels is The Warriors. You turn to her with a questioning look. “The Warriors?”

“Guess who?”

You pause to think, then answer, “Eren?”

“Yup. Random my ass,” she jokes.

Eren is Mikasa’s actual brother, older by a year. You’ve never met him in person, but you’ve heard plenty of stories about him from her. Petra notices her reaction and grins. “Okay, maybe yours is not so random. It just makes sense!”

“So, what are we supposed to do with our assigned family?”

“It’s just for fun. It’s a nice way to get to know the brothers and build a strong connection with them. They’ll look out for you and take care of you, especially at the parties.”

Since joining last semester, you haven’t properly bonded with anyone in the other organizations, too busy acclimating to sorority life as a new member. Now, with a bit more exposure to Greek Life, it’s time to build your own relations, make new friends. Maybe even find a boyfriend. It’s been a while since you’ve had sex, and you find yourself desperate for it. This new partnership with Alpha Tau is a good opportunity to find potential candidates.

And, with the help of your new big brothers, you might be able to achieve this.

~~~

The first exchange between Sigma Nu Kappa and Alpha Tau happens on Friday night, inside the fraternity house. The theme for the party is Game Day. Everyone is required to wear a sports jersey of some kind. You and Mikasa come in oversized basketball jerseys paired with black bicycle shorts. When you arrive to the house, it’s packed with your sisters and Alpha Tau brothers. Immediately, your big sis leads you into the kitchen where the drinks are.

You help yourself to a serving of Jungle Juice, the common frat party concoction. Mikasa, already on her second, mentions, “I texted Eren. He’s finishing a game of beer pong with Reiner, so they should be meeting us soon.”

You chug the rest of your drink, excited to finally meet The Warriors. Several minutes pass, in which you spend time chatting with your sisters and refilling on more Jungle Juice. You turn around once you hear Mikasa yell, “Finally!”

In front of her are two well-built men, one with dark, brown hair wrapped in a stylishly messy man-bun, wearing a sleeveless jersey, showing off his tone arms. The other has a shorter, blonde cut, standing a few inches taller in a football jersey, displaying his broad shoulders.

“Sorry, the game went longer than expected. Neither of us could sink a shot,” the brunette explains. You assume this is Eren, based on family pics Mikasa has shown you. “So, where’s our new little sis?”

You step towards them, hovering beside Mikasa to introduce yourself. They both smile at you, shaking your hand. “Welcome to the family.”

You exchange small talk, asking the standard questions to break the ice. Reiner, Eren’s big brother in the fraternity, is a senior, scheduled to graduate this spring with his bachelors in psychology. He hopes to eventually become a therapist. Eren is a junior, majoring in education to become an elementary school teacher. You were expecting them to be intimidating and arrogant, the stereotypical frat boys. Lucky for you, they are surprisingly easy to talk to.

In the midst of your conversation, Mikasa checks her phone and announces, “Jean just got here. I’m going to hang out with him for a bit, is that cool?” She seems to be directing it at you, specifically.

“Don’t worry, Mikasa,” Eren says. “We’ll take care of her. Right, Reiner?”

He nudges his big brother, who smirks. “Yeah, we’ll take care of her, alright.”

As soon as Mikasa leaves to hang out with her boyfriend, the energy shifts. Maybe it’s your imagination, but there’s a different vibe being alone with your new brothers. They have polite expressions on their faces, but behind it is something…sinister? Wicked? Naughty?

You refill with more liquor, your nerves getting the best of you now that Mikasa is no longer there to protect you. Before you tip the drink into your mouth, Reiner intercepts and covers the lid with his palm, stopping you. “Don’t drink that anymore. All that Jungle Juice will give you a hangover. Let’s take shots instead.”

“Yeah, we got some vodka in the fridge.” Eren opens the door to the refrigerator, reaching in to retrieve a brand-new bottle of Grey Goose. “Big brother here works for the Psych department so he can afford top shelf.”

“Yeah right, like you can’t afford it with daddy’s money,” Reiner retorts. “Did you know his dad is a doctor?”

You nod. “Yeah, Mikasa has mentioned that.”

“I’m not getting a cent after undergrad, though. He’s pretty disappointed that I’d rather be a teacher than take over his practice. At least Zeke’s going to do it.”

“That’s your half-brother?” you ask. Mikasa’s briefing of her adopted family, the Jaeger clan, is coming in handy.

“Yup,” he confirms, pouring the liquor into three cups, poorly estimating a shot’s worth in each.

“Being a teacher is just as important a job as a doctor,” you comment. “Maybe even more, considering the impact you make on the students. It’s a crime how underpaid they are. That’s my opinion.”

He offers you the shot with a small smile, watching you carefully. “What other opinions do you have?”

“Huh?”

“I’m sure you have lots of opinions in that pretty head of yours.” He passes the third cup to Reiner without taking his eyes off you.

You’re unsure what to make of his comment, so you don’t respond, pretending to be fixated on consuming the shot. The buzz is starting to kick in, cheeks warm, head pleasantly airy, inhibitions loosening the slightest bit. Luckily, you’re being taken care of by your big brothers so that you don’t do anything reckless tonight.

The other two throw back the alcohol easily, Eren quick to refill their cups. He waves the bottle at you. “Want another?”

You refuse. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Can’t hold your liquor?” Reiner asks, moving to stand next you at the counter.

“I know my limits.” You lean into him, comfy against his large physique. You play with the hem of your jersey, observing the other party goers in the living room, dancing to the music blasting through the speakers. Mikasa and Jean are nowhere to be seen, most likely doing it in his room upstairs. You spot a few of your other sisters dancing alongside the Alpha Tau brothers, having a grand old time.

“Should we dance?” you suggest, hoping they agree. You want to join in on the fun.

Eren chuckles. “Reiner doesn’t dance.”

He stands up straight, setting his cup down. “That’s not true. I can dance.”

“I didn’t say you can’t dance, I said that you don’t. I have never, ever seen you dance, dude.”

With a mischievous grin, he looks at you and says, “Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

In an instant, Reiner is leading you to the living room, Eren following close behind. It’s crowded, the small space not accommodating for the size of this party. The three of you squeeze in the middle, surrounded by other warm bodies, too intoxicated to care about being smushed. Someone shuts the lights off and only a dinky strobe illuminates the room. You start moving to the music, bobbing your head back and forth, swaying your shoulders to the melody of whatever top hit is playing. Eren is in front of you, copying your motions, a lazy smile on his face. Reiner is to your rear, close enough that you feel the fabric of his jersey brush against you.

Eren leans forward, lips grazing your ear. “You’re so pretty, you know that?” He shuffles closer to you, still dancing to the music.

From behind, Reiner drifts towards you, hands at your waist, his husky voice hot on your other ear. “You look so good dancing like this.”

It’s sweltering now; from the lack of air in the cramped capacity, the alcohol taking its effect, the swing of your hips in tandem with the bass. Or the situation you currently find yourself in, sandwiched by two extremely attractive men, breathing compliments in your ear, exploring your body. They trap you, Eren’s chest basically pressed to yours, your back flat against Reiner. His hands are still at your sides, while Eren reaches for your nape, pulling you in to kiss along your neck.

You should stop it. That’s what you should do. Whatever this is, it’s wrong. These are supposed to be your quote unquote big brothers. What would Mikasa think?

But something snaps in you. It’s curiosity. The need to know. What would it be like to be fucked senseless by them? It has your imagination running wild. How can you deny this opportunity? It’s basically being served to you on a silver platter.

“Let your big brothers take care of you,” Reiner whispers, nipping at your ear lobe, grinding his hips on your ass. It’s so wrong. So wrong, you keep chanting in your head.

Eren fondles your breasts through your clothes. “You want to feel good tonight, right baby? We can help you feel good.”

Is it the pet name that pushes you over the edge? Or is it the allure of being pleasured by two guys at the same time? Either way, you reach behind you to run your fingers through Reiner’s hair while you take your other hand to tug Eren forward into a sloppy kiss.

“Fuck, I think she wants it,” Reiner murmurs, licking a stripe behind your ear. “Let’s go.”

“Follow us, baby. We’ll take care of you tonight.” Eren grabs your wrist, leading you upstairs to follow Reiner into his room. It doesn’t seem like he has a roommate, considering the beds are combined to create one that is nearly king-sized. Too busy inspecting the interior design of a typical frat boy, which so far consists of flattened boxes of beer packs hung up like posters and a large Alpha Tau flag strewn across one side of the wall, the sound of the door shutting loudly brings you to your senses.

You’re very aware now that it’s the three of you, alone in this bedroom, air dense with sexual tension. Suddenly, you’re nervous. You’ve never had a threesome. It’s certainly been a fantasy of yours, but to experience it first-hand, you start having self-doubts if you can really go through with it.

Eren, sensing your trepidation, puts his arm around you, rubbing your shoulder. “Hey, you okay? We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Reiner, who’s already sprawled out on the bed in his boxers, clothes promptly stripped off, adds, “Yeah. We can just chill here. It’s all good.”

They’re not pressuring you, which you appreciate. You’re hesitant, sure. But you haven’t changed your mind. You want this. You want this bad.

“I want to do it,” you state, removing your shorts and tossing them aside.

Reiner laughs, sitting up to watch you, shoving his own boxers off. “You’re eager. She’s eager, Eren.”

“Yeah, she is,” Eren muses, tugging at your wrist. “Let’s go to the bed, sweetie.”

Reiner scoots over to make room for you, palming his growing erection, watching Eren strip you nude. When you’re naked, you turn to Reiner to kiss him. He smiles before shoving his tongue into your mouth.

“Lay down for us, baby,” Eren purrs, now naked, boner stiff against his sculpted abs, kissing your stomach. He peers up at you with twinkling eyes, almost innocent, knowing for a fact he’s about to wreck your pussy apart.

Reiner lies beside you, cupping your cheek, large tongue working its way deep inside your mouth. His hand trails down to your chest, squeezing at your breast. “Do you like having your nipples played with?” he asks, lips glossy with spit.

You nod, eyes glancing at Eren, his head positioned between your legs, palms spreading your thighs wide, staring at your pussy already sticky with arousal. Reiner refocuses your gaze on him, muttering, “Pay attention to me, princess.” Another nod and you close your eyes, kissing him, enjoying the soft caress of his hands on your tits.

Below you, Eren, the fucking menace that he is, doesn’t start slow. He wraps his lips around your clit, swishing his tongue against it until you’re whimpering from pleasure.

“Oh fuck, she likes that, Eren. Keep doing that. I want to see her come all over your face,” Reiner smirks, brushing his rough thumbs on your hardening nipples. He moves down, facing your chest, sucking on your breast until it’s hard and plump. “Fuck, your tits are amazing,” he rasps, flicking his tongue.

Eren gives you a break, slowly licking your sensitive bud a few times before latching on once more. It’s almost too much, body instinctually jolting from his touch. You endure it, though; the sensation too divine to stop.

“Finger her, Eren,” Reiner demands, as if reading your mind. The desire to be filled is overtaking everything else.

Tongue flat on your clit, he hums in the response, middle finger teasing your slick entrance before slipping inside, knuckle deep. Still, it’s not enough. Even Reiner knows it.

“Put another,” he growls, eyes focused on your pussy being wrecked as he continues to play with your tits. “Fill her up.”

Eren obeys, sliding his ring finger along with the middle, pumping his digits inside you. You’re a whining mess, unable to control the lewd sounds escaping your mouth. Drool leaks out from the corners of your lips, your tongue lolling out from being fucked out. Reiner chuckles, releasing you with a loud pop. “You’re a loud one, aren’t you? You need something in your mouth to keep you quiet.” He grazes your tongue with his thumb, staring at you hungrily. “Suck on these like they’re my dick.”

All you can do is nod dumbly, grabbing at his thick wrist to stick his three middle fingers down your throat. He pumps them into your mouth as he suckles at your nipples, like an animal desperate for milk.

You’re overstimulated, from having your mouth and pussy stuffed, to your most erogenous zones being consumed by lips and teeth. Your toes curl from the pleasure, throat dry from the endless moaning around Reiner’s rough digits, skin damp with sweat and saliva. The orgasm hits you like a wave of electricity coursing through your veins, exciting every nerve in your body. You whimper on Reiner’s fingers, tickling the back of your mouth, causing you to gag slightly.

“Fuck,” Eren muffles below you, still lapping at your clit. The wet squelches sound even more lewd from your noticeable orgasm. He flicks his tongue on your sticky mess, smearing it over your puffy bud, repeating the action several times until he’s satisfied.

“Ah, Eren. Fuck,” you breath out, mouth relinquished from Reiner. He has been relentlessly working your tits, swollen and sore from his efforts. When he’s done, he slides back up the bed beside you.

“Look at the mess you made.” He grips at your chin, directing your gaze at Eren, who’s face is glistening, smirk coated in your shiny cum.

“You did so good for us,” Eren says, crawling up the bed to join you on your other side. He gently pinches your tit, sucking on your neck. Reiner kisses you on the mouth, massaging the other breast. You grasp their hard cocks, stroking them simultaneously, resulting in both of them moaning.

“Fuck, baby.”

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Fuck yeah, she’s such a good girl.”

“So fucking good for us.”

The three of you stay this way for a while, erections growing unbelievably stiff in your fists. One of their hands, at this point you’re not sure whose, is at your clit, tapping it and rubbing fast. You’re convinced that you can come like this if they let you.

“Think she’s wet enough?” Reiner asks his brother.

“Yeah, she’s really fucking wet, dude. It’s going to feel so fucking good.” Eren answers. “Can you take it, sweetie? Can you take Reiner’s fat cock?”

“I can take it,” you breathe out, needy and aching to be filled again.

Reiner moves to the bottom of the bed. “Are you on the pill?”

You nod, humming against Eren’s mouth, occupied with kissing him.

“Good. I want to fuck you raw.”

“Come inside her, Reiner. Give her a fucking creampie,” Eren murmurs, kissing your forehead affectionately, despite the filthy words coming out of his mouth. The way they speak to each other, instructing one another on what obscene act to perform on you next, spurs you on. Makes you feel like you’re in fucking heat, ready to be bred.

“You want my cum inside you, princess? Want me to fill up that tight cunt?” Reiner spits into his hand then strokes himself, teasing your slit with his tip.

“Yes,” you respond, voice shaky.

“That’s not enough for him, cutie,” Eren whispers to you. He massages your clit gently as Reiner slides his cockhead up and down your folds. “He likes it when you beg for it.”

You’re too desperate to care about pride. You’re going to beg for this, no matter what. “Please, Reiner. Fuck me, please.”

“That’s more like it,” he grunts, stroking himself faster. “Get in front of her, Eren.”

Eren gives you one last smooch before sitting up and kneeling at the top of the bed, tossing a few pillows to the floor to make space.

Reiner taps at your hips. “On your hands and knees, slut. And stick that ass up for me.” His voice is raspy, demeanor rougher than a few minutes ago. Something has taken over him; it’s his carnal desire to fuck you into the mattress.

You do as your told, arching your back to give him a nice view of your pussy, wet and fluttering, ready for cock. Without warning, he smacks your ass cheek, laughing. “I’m going to fuck you so good. You have no fucking idea.”

Eren kneels in front of you, erect and oozing with precum. “You’re so cute, you know that? So pretty.” He caresses you delicately, thumb brushing against your cheekbone. “Can you suck my dick, baby? Pretty please?”

You’re beginning to understand the dynamic that’s going on here. Eren is sweet, tender, and considerate. Then there’s Reiner: rough, harsh, and greedy. Opposites of each other, working together to tear you to pieces, rip you into shreds. Two sides of the same coin.

You wrap you fingers around Eren, leaning forward to spread the bead of precum along your lips like gloss. He smiles at you, still cupping your face. “So fucking pretty.”

Reiner continues to tease you, gathering your slick onto his cockhead to rub it on your bud. “I’m going to fuck you now, princess. Let me take care of this pussy.” Aligned with your entrance, he slowly slides in, your walls stretching to adjust to his girth. You hear him suck in a breath behind you, cursing. “Fuck, you’re tight. Such a good girl.”

“You are a good girl.” Eren pushes past your lips. You take him into your salivating mouth, surrounding him with your wet heat, tongue tracing the prominent vein running along his shaft. “Our good girl. Our good fucking girl.”

You bob your head on his dick, further and further until he’s deep down your throat. You keep him there, swallowing around him, resisting the urge to gag on his cock. Through teary eyes, you peer up at him, looking for approval, wanting him to be proud of the way you take it. He meets your gaze, breathing heavily, eyes wild with lust, staring at your stuffed mouth. His kind disposition from earlier is crumbling; he caresses your cheeks tenderly, but his expression gives him away. Still, he stays still, hesitant to take control.

Reiner, however, is on a different level. He starts fucking you, pulling his cock out halfway only to slam it all the way back in, pace picking up gradually after each thrust. The force causes you to plunge further onto Eren, nose buried in his dark pubic hair, spit seeping from the corners of your mouth. Your muffled whimpers vibrate around him, causing him to moan from the sensation.

“Fuck, you’re doing such a good job,” he praises, holding your head cautiously.

Reiner holds you firmly at your hips, fucking you hard and fast, grunting. “Take my cock, princess. Take it like the fucking slut you are.”

You pull off of Eren just enough so that only his tip is engulfed by your mouth. With your fist jerking his shaft, you blow him, swirling your tongue on the slit. “Fuck, that’s it, baby. Feels so good. Gonna make me come.”

“Make Eren come,” Reiner huffs. “Make him nut in that slutty mouth.” He’s found your sweet spot, barely pulling out to hit it over and over. You’re soaked around him, convinced that your arousal is dripping onto the sheets, making a mess of his bed.

“I’m coming,” Eren warns, stomach tight, eyes shut. His warm cum shoots into the back of your throat as you suck him off, swallowing every drip. He slumps against the headboard, catching his breath. “Thank you, baby,” he murmurs, bowing down to kiss your puffy lips. “Thank you.”

“I’m gonna come soon. Gonna fill you up with this load,” Reiner growls. Your ass smacks against his groin, his heavy balls tapping lightly onto your clit. You’re close to your second orgasm, but you need just a little bit more.

“Come here, Eren. Play with it while I fuck her.” It really is as if Reiner can read your thoughts, aware of exactly what you need to push you over the edge, get you closer to that peak.

Eren crawls down the bed, kneeling beside you, hand reaching between your legs, finding your swollen bud. When he does, you cry out, “Ah! Fuck!”

They both laugh, Eren brutally rubbing it as he watches Reiner fuck you from behind.

“Look how creamy it is. That’s all her. She fucking loves it.”

“Our pretty girl loves getting fucked.”

“Pinch her little clit. Make her come on my cock.”

Eren squeezes your clit gently between his thumb and forefinger. It’s too much. You let go, the orgasm so intense, you’re trembling, fists bunched in the bedsheets below you, whining in ecstasy.

“Holy shit, I’m coming.” Reiner thrusts into you a few more times before his cock spurts inside you.

“Fuck,” Eren swears, loosening his grip on you.

Reiner stays in you for several seconds, coming down from his high. He slowly pulls out, his cum and yours leaking out of your fluttering hole. They both breathe out a satisfied fuck, staring at the flow of cum dripping out of your slit. Someone, you’re not sure who, plants a smooch on your lower back. Most likely Eren, the more affectionate of the two. You lower your torso onto the bed, relaxing into the mattress, exhausted and satiated from the insanity that just occurred.

Once again, you find yourself sandwiched between them, both facing you, smiling. You turn on your back to stare up at the ceiling, glancing at each of them, unsure what to say.

Eren is the first to break the silence. “Did you have fun, cutie?” He turns your head towards him, nuzzling his nose with yours.

“Yeah, I did,” you answer, grinning. “That was amazing.”

“You came so much, princess,” Reiner adds, chin grazing the skin of your shoulder, palm tracing languid circles on your breasts. Eren kisses you on the lips while Reiner works on your neck. The three of you stay like this until a phone starts ringing.

“Shit, that’s probably Mikasa,” Eren mutters, breaking away. He hops off the bed to retrieve his phone on the other side of the room. Reiner quickly turns you toward him, taking this opportunity to kiss you passionately as his brother answers the phone. His arms are snug around you, cozy and comfortable in his warm embrace.

You don’t pay attention to Eren’s conversation, focused instead on making out with Reiner. It ends as soon as Eren comes back into bed.

“What did Mikasa say?” you ask.

“She’s looking for us. Specifically, you. She’s worried.”

“About what?”

“Probably about us corrupting you,” Eren laughs, nestling his face into your neck.

“I guess she’s on to something,” Reiner responds, copying Eren.

You snuggle them. “She doesn’t have to know about this. It’ll be our little secret.”

“You’re okay with sneaking around next time?”

“Next time?” In your head, you already decided this would be a one-time kind of deal. Not because you want it to be, but because you assumed they wouldn’t want to do this again.

“You don’t seriously think this is the last time we’re doing this, do you? Baby, you’re too cute,” Eren says, grinning.

Reiner chuckles. “You’re stuck with us now, princess. You’re way too good to let go. Right, Eren?”

“Yeah. I think we’ll keep you for a while.”

End Notes: Happy birthday Eren!

#eren smut #eren jaeger #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren jaeger smut #reiner braun #reiner smut #reiner braun smut #reiner x reader #reiner x you #reiner x y/n #eren x reader x reiner #eren x you x reiner #attack on titan smut #aot smut #eren yeager

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tatorthots · 1 year

Text

— get you

featured: college!Eren x afab!reader x college!Levi, Mikasa Ackerman, Sasha Braus, Louise (canon Yeagerist)

cw: modern!au, slight fluff if you really squint, suggestive content, minors dni, toxic dynamics, possessiveness, cursing

synopsis: the life of a college student is already hard enough as it is with classes, homework, and lectures so why not add a complicated love triangle as well?

a/n: this is a repost !! I’ve written this before but decided to go back and re-edit it :) to everyone who’s read this before I hope you all enjoy this improved version!

Eren fucking Yeager.

The college campus’ fuckboy and the literal bane of your existence.

Eren has been the thorn in your side since you were both assigned dorm mates at the beginning of your junior year of college. Sure, you’ve heard of the infamous name he set out for himself as the ruthless ‘Attack Titan’ in your school's football team, and you were fully aware of his cold and narcissistic personality but hey, who were you to judge a book by its reviews, right? So you made the mistake of ever being kind to him when you first introduced yourself only to be met by desolate green eyes and a scoff. Not to mention he had the audacity to give you ‘house rules’ which basically summarized to cleaning the dorm and staying out of his way. No, Eren almost never spared you small talk or even pretended to tolerate your mere existence. Why? Who fucking knows. Honestly, you firmly believed the brunette was born with a vendetta against you — every day striving and scheming to better his tactics in making your life miserable like some ripoff supervillain. But worst of all is the fact he seemed to make a habit of following you around campus like some lost puppy. You’d think someone who supposedly hates you would do anything to keep themselves away, right? Wrong. He thrived off bickering, insulting, and annoying you at any chance he got. Weirdly enough, no matter how many times you prayed someone would approach you to give you reason to ditch him, everyone always seemed to particularly steer clear from you when he was with you. Almost as if they were too afraid to even look your way, let alone talk to you. But I guess that could all be chalked up to Erens possessive behavior; his sinister stare and malicious intent were ever present anytime anyone dared get close to you. Not that you would know though, no, you were far too busy rolling your eyes and thinking of witty comebacks or insults. Unknowingly, making it easier to keep you all to himself.

Silly girl.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The echo of a blunt object clamoring to the floor abruptly stirred you from your peaceful slumber as the sound of it rolling on the hardwood floor rattled through the cramped dorm. Sitting up from your resting position you outwardly groaned as you rubbed the sleep off your eyes, “What the hell?” you sighed. Snatching your phone from its charging port you checked the time, squinting your eyes at the sudden brightness, “5:06 a.m?” Huffing in annoyance your jaw clenched as you glared at the door, already starting bright and early this morning huh you asshole, throwing your legs off the bed you groggily made your way out your bedroom door. Fuming at the fact you were forced to wake up so early after pulling an all-nighter studying last night; which, by the way, was already hard to do with Eren and his friends cluttering around the living room all night.

“What do you think you’re doi—“ your voice came to a complete halt when your eyes landed on an opened package and your recently delivered figurine displaced out of its box and lying on the floor. And to add insult to injury there stood Erens number one psycho of a fan, Louise. Giggling to herself as she kicked what would’ve been your most prized possession away from her. “What.. what are you doing…?” Your voice was barely above a whisper as your eyes remained focused on your figurine. The same figurine you excitedly pre-ordered a year ago. You couldn’t even afford to eat for a month afterward because of how much you spent on it and now there it was being kicked around by some desperate pest? So balling your hands into fists you marched over and shoved Louise aside to see the damage she had caused. But your anger only ignited when you saw your favorite character's weapon broken in half and their stand shattered to pieces. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You seethed as you bent down to sorrowfully try to connect the shattered pieces together. You were tired. So tired of this. Carefully tightening your hold on the broken pieces; you hated how you felt like you could cry from frustration. “Oops~” was all Louise bothered herself to say in response to her crime. Quietly, almost too calmly, you spoke, “… What did you just say?” “I said ‘oops’,” she cheekily replied, “besides, it’s not my fault you leave around boxes for anyone to touch.” Resting her hand on her hip she smirked down at you, “If you really cared so much about your little dolls then you shouldn’t have been so irresponsible~ heh, hope you learned your lesson.”

Standing up from your crouched position, you side-eyed Louise with a piercing, almost eerily, hyper-focused glare. This is it, you thought before clenching your fists and raising your arm, intent on actually beating her until your knuckles ached. But before you could swing, you felt a cautious grip on your wrist and a firm hold on your hip. Everything moved so fast, you didn’t even get to acknowledge the fingertips that slid up to the hem of your latex shorts before you found yourself spun and placed behind Eren. Staring up at him you blinked a few times. “Don’t get so heated.” He spat, with a disinterest in his tone almost mocking your apprehensive reaction, “She’s my guest.” He cocked his head at you with a sarcastic smile, and god did your eye twitch. It made your stomach churn and skin crawl knowing what he meant by that, and it… hurt. Shaking your thoughts, you swat his hands off of you, and scowled at the man towering over you, daring to defend the rat responsible for all of this. Dryly you scoffed, “She’s just another fuck-buddy you bring in here ren.” Crossing your arms together you continued your jeering, “You make a mess wherever you go and you even have the audacity to drag in trash? Tch. Please.” But, oh how naive you are to not notice. The glint of amusement reflecting off Erens emerald eyes just from the venom in your tone; it makes his dick twitch. He shifts a little uncomfortably trying to ease himself before exasperatedly sighing. “Well dove,” he begins as he starts to circle around you, “maybe if you weren’t such a self-righteous prude I wouldn’t have to bring girls in here…” stopping right in front of you he leaned down to reach eye-level, his taunting gaze only inches away from you as he lowly growled out, “I could just fuck you instead.”

Truth be told, Eren knew he was full of it — straight up lying through his teeth every time he told you he didn’t want you. In reality, the man was absolutely obsessed with you and anyone with eyes could see it, everyone except you. But unfortunately, Eren isn’t the type to admit his feelings so freely, let alone submit to his emotions. No, he was too prideful for that. Don’t be too harsh on him though, I mean, the idiot hasn’t even figured out himself what it is he feels for you. It could be part of the reason why he’s so particularly hostile with you, and why he’s equally possessive. Not to mention that Eren has been the object of many’s affection since he could remember; as in he’s never not had what he did or didn’t want. He learned early on that personality and sincerity isn’t anything more than currency in this world, and he abides by that principle. So to have someone like you, who’s breathtakingly mesmerizing, compassionate, intelligent, interesting, funny, and well, you, is completely left field for this playboy. You’re everything he thought wasn’t possible. You contradict his entire worldview of people. How could he not resent you — or fall for you all the same? He hates it.

However, as of now, all you know is that you’re fed up with this situation. Pushing past them to grab your keys and hoodie, you turned around and stormed through the front door. Did you know where you were going? Not a clue. But you sure as hell aren’t going to be anywhere near here. Anywhere near him. Walking out the door you heard Louise’s cackling laugh practically grating your ears and it only made your blood simmer further as you slammed the door behind you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“I’ve told you to speak to the Dean and ask for another dorm mate,” sighing as she stirred her coffee with a spoon, her dark eyes flickered up at you, “I’m sure if you explain your situation to him he’ll be more likely to accept your proposal.” Anxiously combing your hair back, you groaned at your best friend's advice, “Mikasa don’t you think I’ve already tried that?” Dramatically throwing your arms on the diner's table, you buried your face in your arms, “The Dean only has a strict appointment-based schedule,” with a pout you lift your head up slightly, “and the waiting list spans for the next four months!” Tucking your head back to sulk, Mikasa hummed in acknowledgment, but that’s when your other friend spoke up. “Then why don’t you try talking to his assistant?” Snapping your head up, you stare questioningly at Sasha as she shoved another beignet in her mouth, “Yeah but —mmph — what’s his name again?” “Levi.” Mikasa chimed in, “Levi Ackerman.” Levi Ackerman..?, you thought, Why does that name sound so familiar? But you didn’t get long to think about it before Sasha excitedly shouted out, “Yes—! Levi!” Putting her fork down she rubbed her chin in contemplation, “Huh, I heard he’s kind of a total jerk though, and everyone who’s ever met up with him spirals into some sort of existential crisis…” Mikasa kicked Sasha from under the table as she nodded in your direction, “O-oh! But um.. I mean how bad could he be, right?” Trying to nervously wave off what she said, Sasha patted you on the head, “You’ll be fine, y/n!”

I’ll be fine? Groaning again, you leaned your cheek on your hand as you looked at the people chatting or studying at their tables. “Well, I guess I don’t have much of a choice..” which to an extent is true. You either continue to put up with Eren until you eventually get an appointment with the Dean, or you talk to Levi Ackerman and hope you don’t spiral. That name though…, you pondered, Why do I know it? Smearing around the egg yolk on your avocado toast you glanced up at your friends. “Hey, why does that Levi name sound so familiar? Do we know him or something?” “Yes and no.” Sasha answered, “You’ve heard his name before because he’s that super mysterious senior everyone’s afraid of.” “He’s been the leader of the Honors Society since he was a sophomore, and he’s top-ranking academically in the country.” Mikasa added. Thinking to yourself you finally remembered, “Oh! That’s right!” You triumphantly chirped until it dawned on you what you remembered. Noticing the dread in your eyes Sasha laughed, “Mhm, you definitely look like you remember now~” “He’s that academic thug…” sinking into your chair you genuinely began to wonder who you crossed in your past life to deserve this, I probably helped commit genocide or something…, “Yeah, he’s gotten into a few fights but it’s always settled within reason.” “Pft, c’mon Mikasa, the schools probably too scared to punish its most valuable student.” Sasha snorted. “Hm. You might have a point, but it’s usually ruffians who feel they have something to prove that challenge him,” Mikasa pointed out, “He also hangs around his small clique. I think, our seniors like Petra, Eld, Gunther, Olou, and Hange.” “See y/n! How bad could he be if he hangs out with them?” Sighing, you smiled at your two closest friends and their attempt at making you feel better. “Yeah, you guys are right,” finishing your latte, you beamed down at them, “I’m gonna kick today's ass!”

After the three of you waved your goodbyes, you set off to go find the very man you only hear of through quiet whispers. Honestly, with all the mystery shrouding him you really started to believe he was some sort of urban legend the school came up with. Kind of like ‘if you don’t do your homework, Levi Ackerman will show up in your closet’ type of thing, you know? With an exasperated sigh, you look down at your clothes. Great. I’m about to meet the guy who’s also known for his ocd in a jujutsu keisen hoodie, spandex shorts, and crocs.. Sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck, you stared up at the birds flying above you, I wish I could live freely like them… Longingly looking up, you snap out of your thoughts as you approached the administrative office. Well, I promised Sasha and Mikasa I’d do this so.. here I go. Stepping into the front office you began your unexpected hour-and-a-half-long journey being sent practically all across campus in search of this Levi guy. You went from office to office, met up with more people than you’ve probably spoken to in the last two weeks, and wasted time waiting around for people who ended up either not knowing where he is or sending you back across campus. Until finally you made it to the science research facility building where you tiredly dragged yourself toward the receptionist’s desk. “Please..” you heaved, “Please tell me… *gasp of air* tell me Levi Ackerman is in this building!” Your eyes pleaded at the poor, spooked old lady as she stared at you. “Oh honey, please have a seat!” She scurried next to you and guided you to sit down, “He’s tucked away in the computer lab right now, let me go notify him!” Grabbing her arm, you peered into her eyes, “He’s here?” “Y-yes!” Nervously laughing, she placed her hand on top of yours, “You know what? How about you come with me. He’ll most likely decline your visit if I notify him.” And with that, you made your final trudge with the old lady you managed to scare into personally leading you to Levi.

“Alrighty sweetheart, this is him.” Pointing toward a large door, the receptionist politely smiled at you before hurrying back to her desk and leaving you all alone. Glancing at the wooden door, you suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of anxiety. Okay… I um.. I made it this far, right? You tried to reassure yourself but the longer you stared at the door, the more your imagination ran rampant. What if he’s big and terrifying looking? You imagined a tall, ogre-looking man, Or what if he’s a total creep? Then some balding guy who resembled a mole. If ren were here I wouldn’t feel so intimid—huh? Ren? Shuddering at your thoughts, you took a deep inhale, Alright, clearly the longer I stand here the more I’m beginning to lose it, so with a little pep-talk you figured you might as well rip the bandaid. Twisting the handle, you carefully pushed open the door and peeked inside. The entire room was almost the size of an entire lecture hall but filled with neat rows of computers. Wow… you thought as you opened the door further to step inside. Looking around the room in amazement, you immediately stopped in your tracks when you noticed a figure sitting at the front of the room reading a textbook with notebooks and papers stacked on the table. That must be him. Clearing your throat you decided to call out to him, “Excuse me, I’m looking for Levi Ackerman,” slowly walking up to him you tried to fill in the silence, “I’m assuming that’s you, right?” Closing in on the table he sat at, you managed to make out a head of black hair and.. and him drinking tea? Quirking a brow at the full tea set he had displayed, you spoke up again, “My names y/n. I wanted to talk to you about an issue I have and I was told you cou—“ “Get lost.” H-huh..? Did I mishear him? “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you but I—“ “If you don’t intend to offend me then go bother somebody else. I’m busy.” His voice was deep and monotone, clearly uninterested in what you had to say by the way he didn’t even bother to acknowledge your presence.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you knitted your brows in irritation. Of course. Gritting your teeth, you strode right up to him and slammed your hand down on the desk, “You’re a tough guy to find, you know that?” You chuckled dryly, “Did you also know I spent the last two hours running around campus trying to find you? So no, I’m not leaving until you at least listen to what I have to say.” Setting his tea down, the raven-haired man finally turned to look at you, “Is that so?” He questioned, though it was clear the question was more rhetorical than genuine. With a long sigh, he swiveled his chair to completely face you; and then that’s when you flinched in surprise as you scanned him. He’s hot… you thought, Oh god, he’s hot..!? The man in question had inky black hair styled in an undercut, a complimentary choice when paired with his delicate yet sharp features. This definitely wasn’t what you expected. Even the dark circles under his eyes look good… A light blush began to creep up on your cheeks as you realized the commotion you just made in front of someone like him. All the while you stared in a flustered daze, Levi was languidly trailing his eyes across your body. Resting his head on his hand, he couldn’t deny he liked the sudden surprise presented to him. Huh.. he mused. “Well? What’s so damn important?” Straightening up at the sound of his voice, you smoothed out the wrinkles on your hoodie, “Oh! Yes, of course.. I’d like to propose a change of dorm mates.” Staring at him, the intensity in his eyes only worked to captivate you to him, “My… my roommate isn’t working out, and no matter what I try to do to civilize the situation it just doesn’t work out..” you ended, almost disappointingly. Levi hummed as he listened before standing up from his chair. “Is that what’s got you so worked up?” But something about his tone made you think he might’ve been referring to something else. “Why not go to the Dean?” He inquired as he slowly approached you, and you subconsciously took a few steps back until the back of your thighs hit a table behind you and you almost fell sitting on it. “The Dean has appointments booked all through the semester and since the matter is urgent I figured I’d reach out to his personal assistant.” The fact you managed to jumble that out without stuttering was a blessing in itself. “I see.” Narrowing his eyes on you he continued, “Then I guess I have no choice but to agree if it’s so urgent.” Blinking a few times you took a moment to process his words, Is he agreeing to help me? “Meet me later this evening to discuss the details,” his expression remained unchanged but you caught glimpse of the glimmer in his silver eyes as he stared at you, “I assume 7 works for you?” “7..?” You muttered, “Ah, yes, of course!” “Great. I’ll escort you then. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he closed in on your body and reached an arm past your waist, his lips inches away from your ear as he leaned in, “I have other matters to attend to.” Your body stiffened and your breath hitched until he pulled back with a notebook in his hand. He was.. just reaching for his notebook..? Nodding your head in agreement you politely excused yourself and raced out of the room with a bright blush searing your skin as he watched slightly amused at your disappearing figure.

After exiting the computer lab, you stood there for a few seconds in a flustered haze. What the hell just happened? Brushing your fingertips across your cheek you tried to ease away the warmth on them. Heh, I’ve gotta tell Sasha and Mikasa about this! You giddily thought as you whipped out your phone and started typing in the group chat. And after a morning of lectures and labs without your backpack, you finally made it back to your dorm. Heaving a sigh, you slung yourself on the couch and peeked your eye to where your broken figurine last lay. It’s gone… You figured Eren must’ve thrown it away along with the rest of the trash before leaving for his afternoon classes. Grabbing a pillow you covered your face and screamed into the fabric before sitting up and punching it a few times in frustration. “Fuck—!” You loudly groaned out. Why does he have to be that way? Scrunching your face, you massaged the bridge of your nose to calm down, He’s a dick to everyone, sure, but why does he target me so much? Even after… Throwing the pillow to the other side of the couch you hastily stood up and checked the time. Whatever, you bitterly thought, it’ll all be over soon enough. So you brushed off the thought and jumped in the shower to get ready for tonight’s occasion.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Rushing around your room, you turned your phone on to see 6:43 p.m. glaring at you. No, no, nononono—! Hissing in annoyance at your time management, you hurriedly slipped on a long, slit, silk skirt over your sheer tights. “Okay, alright, almooost done!” Grunting as you put on a pair of platform boots, you stood up and admired yourself in the mirror. “Heh,” you chuckled, “Elegant and fashionable with a touch of promiscuous.” After pulling a quick jojo pose in the mirror, you adjusted your open back top and strut through your bedroom door with an excited smile. But your smile immediately turned into a grimace when you caught sight of Eren and Louise lounging on the couch. Fucking bitch.. you internally sneered as you scrunched your nose in distaste. “Self-respect… and that goes for the both of them.” You mumbled under your breath. Forget it. Rummaging around the kitchen, you tried looking for your hand purse until an agitated voice called out to you.

“Shocked you’re not tryna run around empty-handed again since you had no problem with it this morning,” you could already see his irked frown, “and yeah I heard you’ve been taking a tour through campus by the way.” Roiling your eyes, you heard him shift as you clipped on your earrings, “I looked for you in the library to bring you your bag since apparently, you need everything done for y—“ widening his eyes, Erens jaw slacked as he eyed you. “…. fuck” he lowly muttered. He knew you were fine, he gets mesmerized by your beauty every day, but damn. Your leg peeking out of the silk fabric slit, and the way it’s tight fit complimented the curve of your ass was just too much for him. His mildew gaze trailed up to your open back top and he almost groaned at the slightest tease of side-boob. And just as he almost folded, he snapped out of it when he realized you were going out dressed like that. “Wait, where the fuck are you going?”

But Eren knew that wasn’t what he was really asking. No, what you wore never bothered him, in fact, he loved when you got all dolled up; let others look because he can fight — and he has, for you. What Eren was really asking was ‘Where the fuck are you going without me?’ ‘Who are you meeting?’ ‘Do you like them?’ ‘Would you forget me?’ Those were the real questions bouncing around in his head.

“Doesn’t matter.” Was all you replied, but the grip those two words had on him were like a vice. Leaning down to adjust your ankle bracelet, his eyes darted to the way your back subtly arched. He could already feel the tent growing in his pants, but he couldn’t be bothered to do something to hide it when all he could think about was how pretty you’d look stuffed full of him. He was desperate to touch you, feel you, claim you — just as desperate as he was to be owned by you, in every way, any way you’d allow him to be yours. Maybe you were just too dense for your own good. He tried his damndest to keep his composure as best as he could but his voice gave it away, “It’s a fucking date.” He snarled, low and threateningly. You glanced over at him, confused and infuriated at his audacity to interrogate you about where you were going or who you were meeting. “Doesn’t. Matter.” Both of you locked eyes as an intensity conflicted within his irises and a rage burned within yours. Scoffing, you turned on your heels, grabbed your purse, and walked toward the front door. Eren wanted to stand up and stop you, he wanted to do something anything but the pulsing ache in his pants kept him rooted to the couch. “Tell me who it is.” He demanded, and you finally reached your breaking point. Clenching your fists you turned your head and glared at Eren, “Hah. You’re really something, huh?” You condescendingly seethed, “You always bring in random girls in here almost every night and you have the fucking audacity to question me?” Reaching for the handle, you pushed open the door, “Don’t forget your place, Eren.” And his eyes widened at the use of his name, “And I won’t forget mine.” Slamming the door behind you, he felt his heart ache at the way your voice wavered when you said those last words. He wanted to argue, tell you that you’re wrong, that he’d do anything for you but he couldn’t. All he could do was stare at the door and lose himself in his thoughts.

Through the halls, you bitterly made your way outside the dormitory. Who the hell does he think he is? Roughly opening doors, you fumed, Acting like he owns me. Hah! If I didn’t know better I’d even think he cares about me. Bursting open the front doors of the dorm entrance you marched outside and hastily walked out of the dormitory district, What does he want from me? Seriously, I don’t understand him at all! You clutched your purse as you trembled with anger, He’s so confusing, ugh! He does things for me that make me feel special but then he… but then he acts like that! Like.. like Eren and I d— bumping into somebody, you stumbled back. Huh? Looking up you were surprised to see,

“Levi?”

“The hells wrong with you?” Steadying you with a hand around your arm, you didn’t realize he had grabbed you to keep you from falling, “Do you normally walk around like you’re ready to slice someone’s head off?” He asked, and you looked away in embarrassment, “.. sorry.” “Clearly whoever you’re so damn angry with should be the one apologizing,” letting go of your arm he sardonically added, “or it’s their funeral.” Covering your mouth, you laughed at his words, and his attention focused on the sound. Pretty.. he thought. Easing from your laughter, you looked up at him with a cheery smile, “Thank you for going out of your way to wait for me, I’m sorry I’m a little late.” “Yeah.. don’t-um..,” clearing his throat, Levi averted his gaze from yours, “Don’t worry about it.” Blinking at him, you stood admiring the way the luminescent streetlights illuminated his clear skin, “We should get going.” Interrupting your daze, you tilted your head in curiosity, Hm? Oh, that’s right, “Where are we going?” Checking his watch, his sharp eyes flickered up at you, “There’s a cafe I frequent often,” walking next to you, he placed his hand on the small of your back to guide you next to him and away from the street, “It’s a little hidden but they have a good atmosphere.” His gaze drifted to you and carefully took in the sight of you, “I hope it’s to your taste.” Glancing at him your eyes sparked with excitement, “A hidden cafe? I love checking out new coffee shops to study in! I’m looking forward to potentially adding another shop to my list!” Levi watched as you buzzed with enthusiasm. He was a little apprehensive about inviting you out to a small cafe, not knowing if it’d be something you’d enjoy, so to see you react so excitedly he sighed in relief. Seems this little venture might actually be worth its while. Unbeknownst to you, Levi did do a little background check on you through his student access — perk of being the Deans assistant — and he was pleasantly surprised to see all the achievements and participation activities you had under your belt. Most students don’t bother to do more than get through classes and do solely what’s asked of them as students. So his interest most definitely peaked when he quickly scanned through your transcript. Charming, fierce, intelligent, and beautiful. Lucky me.. he mused.

Like this fic? Consider reblogging, interacting, and commenting! It’s always appreciated!! ᰔᩚ

#jay writes ! ⋆⁺₊⋆ ♡̷̷̷ ⋆⁺₊⋆#aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot angst #aot fluff #aot smut #aot imagines #attack on Titan x reader

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partypuppynastja · 1 year

Text

Transgender Day of Remembrance

This year’s official list has 327 names:

Those murdered were disproportionately women, usually around my age, more often women of colour. Many more will have gone unreported, and/or misgendered in their deaths.

One of those murders is from my native UK—there was also an attempted murder not far from here though, a trans woman stabbed on her doorstep. Fortunately, she survived. I wonder how many other non-fatal attacks were made in the same year.

51 were in the US; that’s more than one per state. Brazil was worst, with 96 (with a similar population size).

9 were tortured to death; another 3 burned alive; another 3 dismembered.

It can be hard to understand why people hate us so much. We’re mostly just trying to live our lives. I guess we’re an easy target, and dehumanised enough in popular media that our deaths elicit little care. I remember the first time I read in a newspaper about a trans woman being killed, the headline was written as a punchline, “transvestite beaten to death with hoe”, and the article was worse.

Fast-forward and today the jokes normalising such violence get Netflix specials, and the more serious hate-mongers get #IStandWith— hashtags in their support, as they go on their “I’ve been cancelled” tour and given every platform available. Politicians debate, and “sensible centrists” call for understanding from both sides, which tends to amount to “well we must understand that trans people can’t help being trans, and trans people must understand that we have Legitimate Concerns™ that if we don’t take seriously enough will just result in violence against trans people”. And so the microphone gets passed to the transphobe-du-jour.

Eventually, the world will get better. Education improves, community (and thus a little safety) is easier to find, transphobes start to realise history will judge their crimes like every other bigotry and ‘phobia and ‘ism. Those who are “not transphobic but” will learn to put aside their biases; those who are openly transphobic will become “not transphobic but”. It may never die out, just like racism hasn’t, just like homophobia hasn’t, and so forth, but it will get better. We just have to live to see it.

And that gives me strength sometimes, gives me an extra reason to survive when I don’t always want to. Transphobes want to see me die, and I will do my level best to thrive instead. It’s not easy and sometimes I feel like a flower growing through concrete.

But like a flower growing through concrete, I know where I’ve come from and I know where I’m going. I can’t know whether I’ll make it, but I know I must keep trying, and the further I get, the easier it will get along the way. It doesn’t mean there won’t be the occasional storm, or freeze. But, there’s sunshine too. There is love in the world; there is hope.

We owe it to the fallen to live, to thrive, and to strive to make things better in this world.

#Transgender Day of Remembrance #TDoR #Transgender #Trans

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ever8ea · 3 months

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Humbly requesting male reader x Luke castellan smut 🙏🙏🙏

Hi lovely! I’ve never written M/M, so sorry if this isn’t exactly right. Hope you enjoy!

Seven Minutes in Heaven : Luke Castellan x Reader

/Nsfw; Heavy makeout, language, alcohol, etc.

Reader is amab <3

“Sorry… what?” I had asked, bewildered, for the millionth time.

“Seven minutes in heaven! I can’t believe you haven’t heard of it,” Silena replied with mock offence.

“I can,” Annabeth piped up from behind her book. “He doesn’t know anything.” Percy made a sound of agreement from beside her.

“Hey!” I said. “It’s not my fault! So sorry I’m not a degenerate like you three,” I grumbled.

“Gods, They are so weird,” Clarisse said to Luke quietly, rolling her eyes. Though evidently not quietly enough judging by the glares she received. “Hey, I’m not wrong, that game sounds absolutely horrible”

***

So, that’s how I ended up sitting in a circle with a couple of uncomfortable halfbloods in cabin 10. The teens had still been mostly sober until Annabeth, reluctantly, had reminded Silena that for their game of ‘seven minutes in heaven’ they needed a bottle. So she brought down a bottle of Firewhiskey one of her siblings had stashed in their dorm. But since she was worried about spilling on the carpet, they had all passed the bottle around until it was empty.

The first to spin was Clarisse, for her previous comment, and much to her chagrin, she ended up with Percy. Clarisse had made a face of disgust, and promptly walked out of the cabin. She didn’t come back for the rest of the night, to Percy’s relief.

“Alright Luke, your turn,” Silena grinned, bumping his shoulder.

Carefully, Luke leaned forward on his knees, spinning the bottle. It turned for what felt like years, though must have been no more that five seconds. It landed on me. Because of course it did.

Luke fixed me with a lopsided smirk, which was truely unreadable, as it was Luke’s reaction to nearly everything.

Unfortunately, Luke knows about my crush on him. Last summer, I had a little to much fun at a bonfire, and let it slip. Luke pretended to not notice, but I could tell he heard.

Since then, harsh words and mild cruelty had been my protection. My way of pretending that everything was normal.

And now I was about to be locked in closet with him. Fuck.

The group did their fair share of oohing and awing before eventually shutting us in there together. Thankfully, the closet was not too tight, though it was a little warm, but that could have just been me.

We both just stood there, and eventually Luke moved to lean against the wall. This gave me a wonderful and dangerous view of the other boy. Earlier in the night Luke had ditched his camp shirt, being left in only his thin white undershirt and camp necklace. The thick string and beads hung loosely around Luke’s neck, teasing me.

Luke, as if he could hear my thoughts, cracked his neck, a finger tugging on the neckline of his shirt. My breath quickened. I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths in an attempt to stop my beating heart.

“What? Don’t like small spaces?”

“No, actually. I don’t. And if it weren’t for your stupid idea to convince everyone that we needed to play this game I wouldn’t be stuck in here! Though, I suppose I can’t blame you for doing stupid things, you can’t help it. It’s in your nature.”

That may have been a bit harsh, as it had really been Silena’s decision but whatever. I was stuck in close quarters with Luke and if he keeps reminding me how much I like him, I might do something I would regret.

“Aw,” Luke pouted. “Always so mean to me.”

The two went silent.

It was relatively dark in here, but I could still make out Luke’s warm brown eyes and the way they were trained directly on me. He looked me up and down before staring at him through his long, dark lashes. He took a step forward.

“Luke, don’t look at me like that.”

I took a step back.

“Look at you like what?” Luke’s voice was low and soft like velvet. It wrapped around me, urging me to lean in closer. He took another step forward.

“Like you’re going to do something stupid.”

Another step back.

“Well, like you said, I can’t help it. It’s in my nature.”

A step forward. A step back.

“W- that’s not what I meant!”

He stepped back into the wall. Fuck.

Luke grinned at my predicament, stepping into my personal space. “Oh, so you take it back then?”

“No! Of course not. You arrogant jerk,”

Eyes closed, Luke let out a shaky breath, teeth embedded in his bottom lip. I thought this reaction was rather odd. I could not understand what had happened to Luke until he opened his eyes to reveal they were nearly black, pupils blown wide.

Oh. Oh.

“Luke…”

“Shhh, see what you do to me?” he slipped a knee between my thighs, causing our clothed cocks to brush. Both boys groaned.

“Luke,” it came out as more of a whine this time, much to my horror.

Luke leaned closer, his warm breath fanning over my face. It smelled of Firewhiskey and mint. I couldn’t get enough of it.

“Luke…”

That drew my attention down to his mouth and… nope. Oh no. His perfect lips were just right there. They were parted and slightly wet as if he’d just licked them. I thought I should have been the one to lick them…

No.

I needed to look away. I really did, but l couldn’t. And suddenly he was leaning closer, and suddenly their lips were touching. And then it was more than their lips. My hands were somehow wound around those oh so soft chocolate curls I’d always dreamed of running my fingers through. And Luke was gripping onto the front of my camp shirt, pulling the two closer (if that was even possible).

Our mouths worked against each other, drawing the most embarrassing sounds from me. I swiped my tongue across Luke’s bottom lip. And then, just as quickly as it had started, it stopped. Luke pulled away slightly, breathing heavily.

“Are you sure about this?” Luke asked, voice strained.

“Gods, yes.”

I pulled Luke in this time and, Gods, it was even better than the first. I twisted my fingers into his hair and pulled. Luke moaned, he fucking moaned into my mouth. And, fuck, what I would do to hear Luke make that sound again.

Luke pushed his hips forward into mine and my restraint melted away completely. I grabbed Luke furiously, needing to touch every part of him that I could, but it wasn’t enough. I moved to tug Luke’s shirt up and-

“Alright boys, seven minutes are up!”

A/n : This was such a fun one to write! Please keep the requests coming, I love them sm

#luke castellan #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo series #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #smut #drabble #cabin 10 #m/m

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lovingrosewho · 10 months

Text

Framed

Hello there! It’s been a while since I’ve written anything but I recently began watching Criminal Minds again and fell in love with Aaron Hotchner all over again as well, so I just had to write this, I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it :) This is my first Criminal Minds (published) fanfic, and the first Hotch x Reader I’ve written ever! (also the first nsfw)

ONE SHOT (but who knows, it may even have a part 2 on a future maybe not-so-near but not-so-far-away either)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Cis!fem!reader

Rating: 18+

Word count: 3467

Summary: reader has been accused of murdering her older, rich ex-fiancé (of course I took my inspo for this piece of fanfiction from Brooke Whyndam, of the movie “Legally blonde”, also, the line “then show them a picture of his dick” is from that movie).

Warnings: NSFW content (innuendo, sex, curse words, age gap - reader is in her mid twenties, Hotch is in his early/mid forties)

“I didn’t do it!” you scream one last time slamming your fist on the table, on the edge of tears.

It had passed around 8 hours already with you in custody, accused of the murder of your ex-fiancé, a (quite older) man, CEO of a big company in town, and as if that wasn’t enough, the best friend of the sheriff.

SSA Aaron Hotchner rubs his face, tired, after observing Prentiss and Morgan’s attempts to get you to confess. It’s almost 3am.

“Sheriff, with all due respect, I think she’s telling the truth” he tells him with a soft voice after a deep sigh.

“And with all due respect, you profiled that the suspect would be a female in her mid twenties, who we’d have to get the information out of her”.

“And we also profiled she’d be seeking for attention and validation which we don’t see it happening do we?” Aaron retorts rolling his eyes discreetly.

The sheriff gives SSA Aaron Hotchner one last glance before grabbing the doorknob of the interrogation room and storming in, Hotch follows close behind, seeing how the sheriff turns off the videocamera recording what happens inside the interrogation room, knowing no good can come from asking the same questions over and over again when everybody is also tired and fed up with trying to get a false confession out of you, which, from your behavior, Hotch knows it’s impossible.

“That’s it!” the sheriff yells “You killed my best friend! Either you confess or I’ll let you rot in here the rest of the 72 hours we can have you legally detained!”

“For the last time, I. Didn’t. Do it!” you yell back.

The BAU team exchanges glances between each other.

“What judge is going to believe you huh? You were engaged to a successful man in his mid fifties! And then he goes and marries someone even younger than you!”

“That was over two years ago!” you talk back.

“You had motive and opportunity, no judge nor jury is going to understand any other reason for you to be with him that is not for the money”.

“Then show them a picture of his dick! That might clear a few things up” you finally bark at him. The sheriff looks at you in astonishment. Morgan disguises a snicker as a cough, Prentiss bites down her lower lip to suppress a laugh, and Hotchner… Hotchner just stands impassive at you.

The sheriff leaves the room enraged, and everyone else follows, not before giving you an apologetic look. Hotchner is the last one to stay. You see the slightest doubt on his eyes and the subtle twist his lips make. You know he’s thinking about letting you go, but he then lowers his stare and gets out of the room, just like everybody else.

You sigh, drained out of energy after all the interrogations. This can’t be happening to you.

You knew since the moment you met John, that just his pure acquaintance could ruin your life. He had many enemies, and even more groupies who belonged to social circles that if you hadn’t met him, you would have never even imagined they existed, but what you had never imagined either, was that after all the heartbreak, loss and pain of what you thought in that moment to be the love of your life, you’d be reliving all those feelings, cause of some stupid cop negligence.

You lay your head slowly on the table, feeling the coldness of the metal surface on your cheek, and close your eyes for just a couple of minutes. You can’t sleep, not until this nightmare is all over, but at least, you get to have a few moments of peace and quiet before some other agent enters the room and begins yet another interrogation, demanding new information. Information you don’t have.

Outside the gray room, where you can’t hear nor see anything, the BAU team argues with the sheriff about your freedom.

“We’ve gotten out of her everything we’re going to get, I’m telling you, she didn’t do it” Morgan tries to reason with him.

“An unsub who planned a homicide this calculated would be equally calculated both on his answers and his behavior, this girl was in shock when we started showing her the case photos and couldn’t get a single cohesive phrase out. You can’t pin this murder on her” Emily backs up Morgan.

The sheriff looks at both of them, puffs a sigh and places his hands on his hips before discussing.

“Look, I get it, you profilers or whatever think you’re better than all of us, but this is still my county, and while I can have her in custody, I will. Who knows? She might even give up a confession or at least some new information. Goodnight gentlemen. And lady” he starts to walk to the exit without giving any of them any chance to convince him “I suggest you too get some rest. It’s been a long day and there’s one even longer ahead of us. Lock up when you get out”.

With that last statement, the sheriff ends the discussion and exits the precinct. Morgan and Prentiss move their heads in disagreement, proceeding to look back at Hotch, who is frowning at the door the sheriff just left through.

“What now?” both the BAU members look at the unit chief.

“Sheriff is right in one thing: you should get some rest. I’ll stay here with (Y/N), keep her company and see if there’s something we missed” he declares “Call Reid, Rossi and JJ, head back to the hotel, I’ll catch up with you in a few hours”.

“Hotch she’s not our unsub” Morgan defends you again “I mean we could, let her go right?”

“I’m afraid not. If we step ahead of the local officers, we might make things worse by getting ourselves kicked out of the investigation. It’ll be of more use the sooner we find something, anything, that might help (Y/N) clear her name and get her out of here” Hotch answers, he’s looking at Morgan but directs his orders to both of them, he knows his team too well to not know for a fact that Emily is the one who’s more inclined to let you go. They both nod silently.

“All right” Emily surrenders, not just because she’s too tired to continue arguing, but because she also knows that perhaps getting back to the hotel and going over some of the facts and scenes with Reid or JJ, might be more useful “Do you want me to stay with you? I mean the precinct is completely empty. You’ll be here all by yourself”.

“It’s okay. You and Morgan. Hotel. Rest. We’ll gather first thing in the morning and go through everything we have so far” he assures and doesn’t wait for a reply, beginning to walk back to the interrogation room, hearing the exit door of the precinct close behind him and the key turning.

When he enters again, he finds you on the same position you were trying to rest, your cheek against the now warm table, your hair falling on it and covering parts of your face.

“I’m not asleep” you mutter softly “I just needed to clear my head, breath and relax for a bit”.

Hotch lets out an almost imperceptible sigh, but everything is so quiet, that you get to hear it.

“(Y/N) I know you didn’t do it” he pronounces just as softly as you.

“Really?” you frown and shift your position, sitting back on the chair, looking at him “Then… can I go?”

He presses his lips into a straight line, and lets out a firm, but still tender “no”. A single tear escapes your right eye and you wipe it off quickly, not quite giving in to the emotions just yet. Hotch notices and comes to stand right next to you, laying on the edge of the table.

“If I’d let you go, the local authorities would not let us continue the investigation and they’d pin that murder on you. Trust me, the best we can do right now is wait a few hours until everyone has cooled down and come back with fresh eyes” he guarantees you, his features relaxing as he tells you this “Everything’s gonna be fine”.

“Everything’s gonna be fine” you repeat his words slowly, then look up at him. Damn it. He’s handsome. It’s no secret to anyone you have a thing for older men, but did that trait really have to emerge right now? You can’t help but to laugh out loud at the thought, it’s absurd to you that you could be thinking of that when you’re being accused of murder.

“What’s so funny?” he asks confused, and distances himself ever so slightly from you, without leaving his place on the table.

“Nothing, just…” you start, in an attempt to explain yourself and don’t end up looking crazy “God, if I had met you under any other circumstances, I’d probably be all over you right now”.

SSA Aaron Hotchner does not move, nor his face changes towards you, but you can see the most subtle blush on his cheeks, and his fists tightening. His lips finally crack up a light smile, finding the situation absurd as well, he quickly remembers the videocamera is off.

“You do realize you could be facing murder charges, right?” he asks playfully, kinda mocking you, keeping the volume of his voice down.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry” you apologize “It’s just so late, I’m tired, and well, you’re smoking hot” you confess with an apologetic, but also mischievous, look. Hotch finally lets out a laugh. Get a hold of yourself, Hotchner, he thinks to himself, takes a deep breath and goes back to his serious stare.

“(Y/N), I understand it’s been a long day in which you’ve been under a lot of pressure, but for me to keep up this game would be not only unprofessional, but also unethical. Your mind is probably just making up this crush for you to pass the time and distract yourself from what is happening. You’ll get over me” he explains sweetly.

“I wish I could get under you instead…” your witty retort catches him off guard, he swallows hard and starts coughing. He’s not used to women flirting with him anymore, not for a long time, let alone women almost half his age.

“I’ll see you in a few hours” he says standing up and reaching towards the door, not really uncomfortable by your approaches, but more by his increasing boner.

“No, okay I’m sorry, please stay with me” you beg him, standing up as well “I was just joking. Well, not really, but just… please keep me company, stay?”

He turns back at you not realizing how close you are, less than a couple steps behind him and he almost crashes into you, but he prevents the two of you from tripping by stabilizing himself grabbing your hips, but his hands can’t get to let go afterwards. You breath heavily, feeling the arousal and heat from the proximity suffocating you.

“Please fuck me” you half ask, half beg, admitting to yourself that what you need right now is precisely what agent Hotchner said: relieving some stress and distraction.

SSA Aaron Hotchner can’t help himself.

Ugh, fuck it, he thinks. It’s the sheriff’s fault for turning off the videocamera in an attempt to scare you and try and trick you into making a confession.

Without any further notice, he grabs your ass and the highest part of the back of your thighs to lift you. Your legs instinctively wrap around his back and your arms around his neck, not breaking eye contact as you let him carry you to the table. He places you on the table with tenderness, caressing your back as he does so. You bring your dominant hand to grab his tie and pull him in for a long, wet, controlled kiss, running your other hand along his arm and chest, ending the trace on his cheek, allowing your thumb to move back and forth on his skin.

Quite to be honest, Aaron doesn’t know how well he’ll be able to perform. It’s been a while since he’s last had sex, and his mind is always either on his job, or his family. He’ll probably won’t last more than a few minutes. But he can try and make it up to you.

He begins to deviate his trace of wet kisses from your mouth, to you jaw, your neck, and slowly your chest, discovering little by little the skin under your clothes, while his hands drop by the side of your waist, hips and legs, exploring you under the midi skirt you’re wearing. His right hand finds the slit between your legs, covered by your panties, and starts caressing it through the fabric. He listens to you moan and brings his other hand to cover your mouth with endearment, letting you know you’ve got to keep quiet.

He moves your panties to the side and traces one finger along your slick, inserting it inside of you. You have to suppress an even louder moan. He moves that one finger up and down, hitting your G spot, inserting another finger when you’re ready.

“Please” you beg once again. Aaron chuckles, grabbing you and getting you closer to the edge of the table, proceeding to get down on his knees and sucking all your juices without any type of heads up. You can’t but let out a loud moan. He looks up at you, and even though his eyes demand silence, you can tell there’s the slightest grin on his lips, before he continues sucking and licking your folds and clit. Your back drops to the table, unable to keep yourself steady so you can watch him. You’re trembling with desire and lust “Agent Hotchner, please” you beg once again. Hearing you call him ‘agent Hotchner’ does something to him. He stands up, wiping a little bit of your juices off his mouth and kissing you afterwards, his hands resting on either side of you on the table, one of them coming to grab each of your nipples one at a time.

“How much do you want this?” he asks softly.

“I need you” you answer “Please, fill me”.

His eyes meet yours and he nods slowly. His mouth comes to encircle one of your nipples as he pulls down your underwear and hides it in his suit pocket, and undoes his belt and trousers, without taking any clothes off. You come up from your laying position to support yourself with your elbows on the table, not wanting to miss how the special agent from the FBI takes his cock out to give it to you.

When he’s got it out and ready for you, he pumps it up and down a couple of times before lifting entirely your skirt and positioning himself in your entrance. He enters slowly, letting you take him all in, allowing you to accustom to his size, and for the love of him, he feels like he could explode any second. He breathes deeply and clears his mind, his ego not letting him end up looking like a teenager having his first time.

“Let me ride you” you ask after a few slow thrusts, needing more of him. He looks at you and nods.

God, what is he doing? At least you’re innocent. Are you? Right? You’ve gotta be. The profile doesn’t fit. But they’ve been wrong before haven’t they?

You exchange positions so he’s laying on the table, you get on top of him and guide his cock back into you again. You part your lips in a moan when you come down on him and begin moving your hips, his hands moving alongside them. You lower yourself without stopping so you can kiss him, rubbing your whole torso on his, your sweat making your skin slip on his skin. He grabs your breasts so he can bring them to his mouth, nibbling them.

Meanwhile, you’re wondering if this might just be another trick for you to let your guard down. But what could you say that might incriminate you? You know you’re innocent. What if he’s not even a real agent?

You’re so close that you can’t give yourself permission to sink into those thoughts, instead, you start riding Hotch faster and stronger, your clit rubbing against his pelvis as you do so.

“Aaron, Aaron…” you moan lowly. You don’t know if it’s okay that you’re on a first name basis already, but it just seems weird to you if you call him ‘Hotch’ like his colleagues.

It seems like he’s perfectly fine with it, as he digs his fingertips on your hips, encouraging you to keep going, feeling how your walls tense around him as your orgasm hits you.

You moan uncontrollably as you come, not being able to keep those in, digging your nails in Aaron’s shoulder suit sleeves. Afterwards, you lay slowly on his chest, until you start feeling like he’s pulling himself out.

“Wait” you gather and pull yourself up again, with him still inside of you “What are you doing? Don’t you wanna finish too?”

He looks at you in disbelief.

“Well I thought you may wanna rest or…” he begins explaining. You laugh and look fondly at him, lowering yourself again to murmur “don’t stop” in his ear.

Of course, he remembers. Twenties.

That’s everything he needs to start thrusting into you with everything he’s got left.

“(Y/N) I’m not-“ he tries to phrase “I’m not going to last longer, I’m- is it okay if I…?”

“Come inside me” you order “It’s okay, don’t worry, I’m on contraceptives”.

He decides to believe you, for his sake, and fastens his pace until it becomes sloppy, spilling inside of you just like you asked for, his cum filling you and showing between your folds as he brings himself out.

“Oh my god” he breathes out as he brings you down to his chest, securing his arms around your back, bringing you even closer to him “I’ll put you in handcuffs myself if it turns out you’re not innocent”.

You chuckle, tracing circles on his chest through the fabric of his shirt.

“I am. But still, you can put me in handcuffs any time you want”. He laughs alongside you, still feeling a bit like a teenager. A teenager who just did something very very wrong and that nobody should find out about. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a few seconds before his cellphone starts ringing, he answers almost immediately.

“Hotchner” he says calmly “Yes I’m still here. No, everything’s fine, she’s… behaved. Prints don’t match? Well of course they don’t, was García able to tell whose are they then? Right. Well, tell her to keep digging. I’ll see you in a bit”.

After he hangs up he turns to you with a playful look.

“You never touched the gun that was in your purse, did you?” you shake your head.

“Guns and, weapons of any type really, give me the creeps, I just left it there thinking it was someone’s idea of pranking me or something”.

“Well that may have just made your case. You’re free to go. Whoever was trying to frame you did a lousy job not guessing you weren’t going to grab the gun” he tells you arching his brows at you. You stare perplexed at him.

“You’re serious? Oh my god Aaron! Thank you!” you exclaim kissing him.

“Yes, and we should get dressed and get out of here before anything else happens” he affirms gently, helping you stand up so you both can fix your clothes.

“Well, agent Hotchner, it’s been a pleasure. Truly” you tell him when the two of you are walking out of the interrogation room towards the exit.

“Pleasure is all mine, (Y/N)” he says, winking an eye at you “I’d like you to know… I don’t usually do this. I don’t…”

“Aaron” you interrupt sweetly, one of your hands coming to grab his forearm to stop him “I know. I can tell. It’s okay. I know that if I hadn’t initiated it or followed up you would have never even considered it, I get it… but now, can we please do it again?”

He chuckles.

“You know where we’re staying and the number of my hotel room, sweetheart. And I also recall reading on some case file that you’re from Virginia and were just visiting your home town?”

You smile widely at him as you nod, pulling him in from his tie for one last kiss. Or who knows, it might not even be the last one.

MASTERLIST

#hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner x reader #aaron hotch fic #hotch fic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #bau team fanfiction

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fdelopera · 6 months

Note

I’m Christian but want to challenge what I’ve been taught after seeing your posts about the Old Testament having cut up the Torah to fit a different narrative. Today I was taught that the Hebrew word Elohim is the noun for God as plural and therefore evidence of the holy Trinity and Jesus & Holy Spirit been there at creation. Is that what the word Elohim actually means? Because I don’t want to be party to the Jewish faith, language and culture being butchered by blindly trusting what I was told

Hi Anon.

NOPE! The reason G-d is sometimes called Elohim in the Tanakh is because during the First Temple period (circa 1000 – 587 BCE), many of the ancestors of the Jewish people in the Northern and Southern Kingdoms practiced polytheism.

(A reminder that the Tanakh is the Hebrew bible, and is NOT the same as the “Old Testament” in Christian bibles. Tanakh is an acronym, and stands for Torah [Instruction], Nevi’im [Prophets], Ketuvim [Writings].)

Elohim is the plural form of Eloah (G-d), and these are some of the names of G-d in Judaism. Elohim literally means “Gods” (plural).

El was the head G-d of the Northern Kingdom’s pantheon, and the Southern Kingdom of Judah incorporated El into their worship as one of the many names of G-d.

The name Elohim is a vestige of that polytheistic past.

Judaism transitioned from monolatry (worshiping one G-d without denying the existence of others) to true monotheism in the years during and directly after the Babylonian exile (597 – 538 BCE). That is largely when the Torah was edited into the form that we have today. In order to fight back against assimilation into polytheistic Babylonian society, the Jews who were held captive in Babylon consolidated all gods into one G-d. Shema Yisrael Adonai eloheinu Adonai ehad. “Hear O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One.”

So Elohim being a plural word for “Gods” has absolutely nothing to do with the idea of the Holy Trinity in Christianity.

Especially because Christians are monotheists. My understanding of the Holy Trinity (please forgive me if this is incorrect) is that Christians believe that the Holy Trinity is three persons in one Godhead. Certainly, the Holy Trinity is not “three Gods” — that would be blasphemy.

(My sincere apologies to the Catholics who just read this last sentence and involuntarily cringed about the Protestants who’ve said this. I’m so sorry! I’m just trying to show that it’s a fallacy to say that the Holy Trinity somehow comes from “Elohim.”)

But there's something else here, too. Something that as a Jew, makes me uneasy about the people who are telling you these things about Elohim and the Holy Trinity.

Suggesting that Christian beliefs like the Holy Trinity can somehow be "found" in the Tanakh is antisemitic.

This is part of “supersession theory.” This antisemitic theory suggests that Christianity is somehow the "true successor" to Second Temple Judaism, which is false.

Modern Rabbinic Judaism is the true successor to Second Temple Judaism. Period.

Christianity began as an apocalyptic Jewish mystery cult in the 1st century CE, in reaction to Roman rule. One of the tactics that the Romans used to subdue the people they ruled over was a “divide and conquer” strategy, which sowed division and factionalization in the population. The Romans knew that it was easier to control a country from the outside if the people inside were at each other’s throats.

Jesus led one of many breakaway Jewish sects at the time. The Jewish people of Qumran (possibly Essenes), whose Tanakh was the “Dead Sea Scrolls,” were another sect.

Please remember that the Tanakh was compiled in the form that we have today over 500 years before Jesus lived. Some of the texts in the Tanakh were passed down orally for maybe a thousand years before that, and texts like the Song of Deborah in the Book of Judges (in the Tanakh, that’s in the Nevi’im) were first written down in Archaic Biblical Hebrew during the First Temple Period.

There is absolutely nothing of Jesus or Christianity in the Tanakh, and there is nothing in the Tanakh that in any way predicts Christianity.

Also, Christians shouldn’t use Judaism in any way to try to “legitimize” Christianity. Christianity was an offshoot of 1st century Judaism, which then incorporated a lot of Roman Pagan influence. It is its own valid religion, in all its forms and denominations.

But trying to use the Hebrew bible to give extra credence to ideas like the Holy Trinity is antisemitic.

It is a tactic used by Christian sects that want to delegitimize Judaism as a religion by claiming that Christianity was somehow “planted” in the Tanakh over 2500 years ago.

This line of thinking has led Christians to mass murder Jews in wave after wave of antisemitic violence over the last nearly 2000 years, because our continued existence as Jews challenges the notion that Christians are the “true” successors of Temple Judaism.

Again, the only successor of Temple Judaism is Rabbinic Judaism, aka Modern Judaism.

This line of thinking has also gotten Christians to force Jews to convert en masse throughout the ages. If Christians can get Jews to all convert to Christianity, then they don’t have to deal with the existential challenge to this core misapprehension about the “true” successor to Temple Judaism.

And even today, many Christians still believe that they should try to force Jews to “bend the knee” to Jesus. When I was a young teenager, a preacher who was a parent at the school I went to got me and two other Jewish students to get in his car after a field trip. After he had trapped us in his car, he spent the next two hours trying to get us to convert to Christianity. It was later explained to me that some Christians believe they get extra “points” for converting Jews. And I’m sure he viewed this act of religious and spiritual violence as something he could brag about to his congregation on Sunday.

Trying to get Jews to convert is antisemitic and misguided, and it ignores all the rich and beautiful history of Jewish practice.

We Jews in diaspora in America and Europe have a forced immersion in Christian culture. It is everywhere around us, so we learn a lot about Christianity through osmosis. Many Jews also study early Christianity because Christianity exists as a separate religion within our Jewish history.

But I don’t see a lot of Christians studying Jewish history. Even though studying Jewish history would give you a wealth of understanding and context for your own religious traditions.

So, all of this is to say, I encourage you to study Jewish history and Jewish religious practice. Without an understanding of the thousands of years of Jewish history, it is easy to completely misinterpret the Christian bible, not to mention the Hebrew bible as well.

#judaism #jumblr #jewblr #jewish history #as a jew i never thought i'd be explaining the bible to christians but here we are!#i hope i've answered your question!#i know that a lot of jews will already know most of the jewish history i've shared but just in case i'm putting this in the jumblr tag #antisemitism tw

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angstywaifu · 3 months

Text

The Lost Sister

Xaden Riorson and his lost sister. Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time. A/N: This is my first ever fan fiction I have written, so please be kind! Also happy to take any advice. This is quite short but wouldn't mind maybe making this into a few parts? Maybe with Liam x Reader or Garrick x Reader? The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

From my tower I have what some would consider the perfect view of the parapet for conscription day. The perfect view of seeing those falling to their death trying to make their way into the riders quadrant. And soon it will be my turn. My heart beats faster at the thought. And its not the parapet that scares me. Its who I will see on the other side. The friends and family who think I'm dead just like my father. Instead I was taken captive and trained by General Melgren.

In his eyes I was young enough to not understand what was going on completely. He thought me young and naïve enough to be angry at my father for being apart of the rebellion. For turning against our own. But the black mark starting at my wrist and weaving its way up my arm and up my neck is a reminder of where my allegiances truly lie. Of who I really am.

A knock on my door startles me as I turn to see a guard standing in my doorway. He nods his head and motions for me to follow him. My time to cross the parapet had come. I cross the small room and grab the pack from the end of my bed. As I pass through the doorway I hear the screams of another candidate as they fall to their death from the parapet.

As we cross the courtyard I look up to see a group crossing the parapet with ease. They are too high for me to be able to see who they are. But by the way they cross the parapet as if its second nature to them, I know they are not first years. And it means General Melgren has gotten his way. I will pass the parapet last while they are all in formation. No distractions.

As we reach the top of the tower, the guards who lead me here step to either side of the archway. Infantry are not allowed in the riders quadrant. A nod them a thanks before adjust the pack on my back and taking the first steps onto the parapet. And suddenly I am glad for the training General Melgren had put me through. Every day for the last 5 years he had made me walk across various beams and walkways in different scenarios and conditions. None of them this high, but I now understood what he was preparing me for.

Despite the rain having passed the wind is still strong and the stone of the parapet is slick and slippery. And yet again I am thankful for General Melgren and the gear he had given me to wear for today. Despite him wanting to use me as a weapon and turn my on my friends and family, he had given me the best training to prepare for today and what awaits me on the other side. I take the last steps off the parapet and into shelter and come face to face with the very man himself. General Melgren.

The look he gives me is almost proud. “You passed that better than some third years. Clearly I’ve trained you well.”

I bow my head at him. “I didn’t expect to see you today General.”

The smirk he gives me sends a chill down my spine. “And miss seeing your brothers face? I wouldn’t miss today for anything.” He gestures with his arm for me to follow him through the archway and into the rotunda.

As we pass through other riders flank my sides, almost as if they are hiding me from what's ahead. I look up to see Dragons around the edge watching everyone closely. And judging by the smell and a few black patches on the ground we pass through, it seems a few first years have already been claimed.

An eerie silence has fallen around us. All eyes are on the General and his entourage making their way through the rotunda. He never makes an appearance on conscription day. He usually doesn’t show up till Threshing, not wanting to waste time on those who will not making it through the next few months. As we pass through all the cadets stand up that little bit straighter, and bow their heads as we pass.

“General. To what do we owe this pleasure?” A voice calls out. A very familiar voice. Its someone I know. But who?

“I have another cadet for you.” He says proudly, the smirk very evident in his tone of voice.

I hear someone rush forward and shuffling of paper. They’re checking the list of names of who crossed and didn’t.

”Everyones already crossed the parapet, we have all our candidates General.” The same familiar voice calls out.

The General turns his head and motions me forward. The entourage around me steps aside to let me pass. I hear a few gasps as those closest can see who I am. I don’t dare turn my head to see who they are.

”Trust me, you’ll be wanting this one Wingleader.”

As I step around General Melgren I finally see the face the familiar voice belongs to. It might have been 5 years but there is no denying who stands atop of the stairs at the rotunda. He’s bigger and taller than I remember. But there’s no denying its him. My brother. Xaden Riorson. Part 2

#xaden riorson #garrick tavis #bodhi durran #violet sorrengail #fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #liam mairi #general melgren

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cherryobx · 4 months

Note

hiiii here to help you procrastinate! I suck at requests but I’m gonna make one and you can just see if you want to use it or not :)) so since I can’t personally hug you since your 24 hours away by car and I don’t have a drivers licence I want something cozy 👉👈 I’ve recently been obsessed with someone and for the first time I followed a twitch live stream because of him and it was so comforting to just listen to him play a game that I could fall asleep. so maybe something like gamer bf/gf and a sleepy reader OR a bookish reader, they’re gaming and the other reading or something. I want the coziness. but I have no clue if this is information that you can do something with so do whatever you want :)) and if you want to use it you can choose the character ☺️

Company || J.M.

Summary: JJ, your gamer bf, comes over and you spend a cozy evening together, sort of.

Word count: 0.7k

Warnings: no knowledge of gaming whatsoever, other than that none

A/N: thank you babe for this request!!!!!! and thank you for supporting my procrastination haha, hope you enjoy whatever this is (don't judge i haven't written anything in soooo long)

JJ kept all of his gaming equipment at your place. He was scared of what his father might do if he ever got his hands on it in a fit of drunken rage. It was very expensive, he saved up for more than a year to afford all of it. You made space in your bedroom for another table so he could have his gaming station and his own little corner to game in.

You loved when he was over at your place to play his video games you knew pretty much nothing about. It was a way for you to spend time together. Not in the sense that you were conversing or doing some activity together but just being in the same room with each other, enjoying each other’s company. It was so mundane but so sweet.

He had his headset on but only one of his ears was covered. When you asked about it one time he said he wanted to make sure he could still hear you if you needed anything. But in reality he also enjoyed the little sounds you made over at the other side of the room, whether it was blowing on your steaming tea, turning the pages of your book or the little laughs you let out when a character said something funny in your current read.

One evening he came over to game with his friends. He could tell you were tired just by the way you dragged your feet behind you and how you kept yawning every two seconds. You had a really long day behind you and all you wanted to do was curl up into a little ball under the warm covers in your bed and fall asleep.

He followed you into your bedroom and watched you flop face first onto the bed.

“Are you okay?” He took a seat next to you and placed his hand on your back, rubbing it in a relaxing motion making your eyelids fall closed.

“Yeah, just tired,” you mumbled into the duvet.

“I don’t have to play right now, I can just tell them I can’t tonight. I’ll cuddle with you instead.”

But you insisted. “No. Go game with your friends. I’ll be out like a light in two seconds. Don’t even worry about me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Just come to bed when you’re done.”

“Of course.” He smiled and gave you a small kiss on your temple.

He helped you crawl under the covers and tucked you in, making your heart swell. He gave you another kiss but this time on the lips. “I love you,” he whispered against your lips before he stood up and sat down in his gaming chair behind the desk you had gotten him.

He turned everything on and logged into whatever game he was supposed to be playing with his friends that night.

His voice was quiet when speaking to his friends, he didn’t want to disturb you more than he already has. He kind of felt guilty about his situation although you had reassured him many times that you aren’t bothered by his stuff in your room. You actually liked that a piece of him was always in your personal space.

“Sorry, my girl’s sleeping,” he whispered into the microphone. It tugged the corners of your mouth upwards in your sleepy haze.

You didn’t really focus on his hushed conversations but the low tone of his voice was so calming and relaxing, it lulled you to sleep in no time.

When JJ finally finished up with his friends, he took the headphones off, placed them on the monitor and quietly made his way to your bed. Lifting the covers gently, he climbed underneath them and joined you in the warmth of your bed.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against him, stirring you from your sleep.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“‘S okay,” you slurred, already falling back asleep. JJ nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent and feeling the sleep take him over as well.

#jj maybank #jj #jj outer banks #outer banks #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x y/n #obx #lu

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oracle-of-dream · 4 months

Text

Something Special

Summary: You've been getting closer to Jay, a wealthy businessman, as you've been booked to sing at multiple events for this business dinner. He invites you as his plus one this time, but you have a song written just for him prepared...

Notes: Some non-sexual works are in order since I haven't released any in a while, so I hope you like it <3

Wordcount: 2.8k

Sitting in a cafe, in a corner seat near the window. You could feel the sunlight shining through the window warming you up from the cold winter air. You came here to find some inspiration for your song. You wanted to write something special for a man who you met here. You could remember the day he walked into the cafe. It was an open mic night, which you went to every single one to practice singing on stage. Most people didn’t really pay attention to you, but one man couldn’t look away from you. It felt like you were singing just to him like the two of you were alone in the room together. That was months ago. The man introduced himself as Jay Park, the CEO of one of the businesses in the area. Some fashion company, and judging from the clothes he was wearing you could tell it wasn’t a lie either… Jay asked if you’d be interested in working a few gigs, promising very generous pay for some classy late-night singer vibes to come to his studio events. The first event was something to remember. It was on a huge stage with a live band. The room was full of people, most of them not really paying attention, the number was enough to even make you want to reconsider performing at all. But Jay spoke to you before the performance, encouraging you, and it turned out to be one of the best nights you’d ever performed.

You scratched your head in frustration, looking down at your notepad. It was full of lyrics from the song you’ve been working on for the better part of two months. You heard that your favorite client liked to have a New Year’s dinner for his company with live music. Meaning that it would be the perfect time to showcase a new song, but nothing seemed to fit the feeling you wanted. Something special…

You heard your phone ringing and answered, “Hello?”

“Hey Songbird, you busy?”

You smiled at the nickname he gave you. “Never too busy for my favorite businessman.”

“Did you eat yet? We could go out to lunch in a bit, my treat!”

“Jay, it’s always your treat when you take me out.”

“Well, I can’t let you pick up the bill. It’s a pride thing, ya know?”

“Pride in what,” you scoffed.

“Pride in knowing I’m taking care of you. I like treating you. And there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you about too...” Jay’s voice was a little tight like he was nervous about something.

You pretended not to know that he was going to ask you to sing for him. “What’s the occasion, maybe another gig?”

“I did have a gig for you on New Year’s Eve, but I found another singer.”

You hesitated, trying to collect your brain before replying. Your face felt a little warm and your smile faded after registering what he’d said.

Jay broke the silence first, “Not that you’re not an amazing singer, I just figured you’d be a little too busy that night since–”

“I’m super busy actually! I gotta go catch up with another client calling. We’ll get back to this another time, yeah?”

“Y/n?”

You didn’t let Jay finish before you hung up the phone. Your face was hot and getting hotter as you thought more about it. It’s just business with him, so it doesn’t matter to him who he hires for events or whatever. Even giving a courtesy call to tell you not to worry about the event. The nerve of that guy! You look back at your notepad and flip to the next page, writing new lyrics to your song, something to show how you really felt about him.

Jay tried calling again after an hour, even texting you. You decided to mute his number while you were in your creative process. Since he had time to hire another singer because he assumed you were busy, then you were too busy to answer the phone.

Three days had passed since you last spoke to Jay. You were still muting his notifications, but couldn’t help yourself from looking at the texts… It was mostly confusion in the beginning. Then trying to explain something, but Jay seemed apologetic. It had been a while since his last message, which was just, “I’m sorry”. That’s when the guilt started to set in. Were you being too harsh to him? It’s not like it's a contract deal or that he had feelings for you, so it didn’t matter if he hired another singer. But you still couldn’t find out why you got so angry in the first place.

You picked up your phone and called Jay. It rang and rang, but there was no answer. Maybe he moved on after you freaked out and ghosted him… You went back to your notepad, looking at the lyrics you wrote. The new ones were mean and it felt horrible reading what you’d written about him. You ripped out the pages and threw them all away, trying to put that part of yourself aside.

You called his office. His secretary Mrs.R answered. She was an older lady who looked after Jay like she was his mother. She was always willing to speak her mind to her boss, which is why he liked her.

“Hello, Y/n! It’s so good to finally hear from you. Mr.Park has been trying to get in contact with you!”

“I know…” Your throat was so dry, it was hard to speak. “Is he in the office today?”

“Yes, he’s here. He’ll be in meetings for most of his evening. Should I tell him you called?”

You thought about it… “No, I don’t want to bother him while he’s at work. I know he’ll cut corners and try to make time to talk to me, I wouldn’t want him to do that.”

“Oh, okay. I would like to ask a question, if I may. What were you planning to wear to the New Year’s Eve dinner? Mr.Park asked me to pick out a suit for him, but I thought it would be best if he matched with you.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Why would he need to match with me?”

“Well, you’re his date, aren’t you?”

“Date!? He didn’t mention anything about that to me.” You tried to think about when he may have asked you.

“He told me he was planning to call you and ask you a few days ago. I told him it’s better to ask in person, so he said he’d invite you to lunch and ask you then.”

You remembered the last time he invited you to lunch… When you hung up on him.

“Actually. Mrs.R, if you could tell him I called. I’d really appreciate it.”

“I’ll let him know right away.”

“Thank you.”

You hung up the phone feeling like an idiot. You kept your phone with you for the rest of the day, checking it constantly, but got nothing from Jay. It was around 11 pm when you really started freaking out. New Year’s Eve was tomorrow and you had no real way of getting to him. You typed out a big paragraph apology to him for not listening to him and begged him to call you.

After a shower to clear your head, your phone rang. You almost fell as you rushed to answer it in time.

“Jay! Look I’m so sorry, I was an idiot for not trying to listen–”

“I’m so sorry dear. I’m not Mr.Park…” You heard Mrs.R’s voice coming out of your phone.

“Sorry… How can I help you, Mrs.R?”

“I was hoping I could drop off this suit for you. I thought you could use it for the event tomorrow.”

“He hasn’t answered me, and I don’t think he will at this rate.” You sighed.

“He’s probably being petty. He’s like that when he’s upset, but I have an idea for you if you’re willing to go through with it.”

Your ears perked at her idea. You gave her directions to your home and she explained her plan about how she wanted you to crash his party to make him see you again. However, she left a lot of things vague with only one thing very clear.

“You can’t talk to him before you get there. If you do, it could potentially give away the plan.” She warned.

You nodded in understanding as you took the bag she brought for you. Inside was the luxury suit, taken from one of the product lines in the company. You walked her to the door and thanked her for helping you, waving her off as she walked back to her car and drove away.

The suit was black with a white button-up, but the fabric was sleek and smooth. Something you’d more likely see Jay wear, but if it was a part of the plan then you knew you had to wear it.

The next morning, you fought the urge to text and call Jay again. It used to talk almost every day, but almost five days of not speaking to him was starting to get to you. That’s when you started getting texts from Mrs.R.

“Okay, first we need to get you into the building undetected. We can’t put you on the guest list as Jay gets a copy of it so he doesn’t forget who’s coming, so we’ll need to sneak you in with the catering business.”

Her plan sounded straight out of a spy movie, but you had no objections. You took your time putting on makeup and the suit, setting your hair right, and plucked your lyric book with you before leaving to head to the location of the party.

Upon arriving, you parked and followed the crowds of people towards the front. Your phone buzzed again.

“The caterers enter from the side entrance, white van. They should be expecting you, so just grab some supplies and help them inside. Once you're in, come find me.”

You texted her back. “Isn’t this a little extra? I could’ve asked him if I could come…”

“Of course it’s extra! He loves this kinda stuff, if you want to show him how serious you are, then you should be extra.”

You sighed as you walked away from the front of the building, to its side, and followed the caterers into the building as they carried in food, utensils, and more. Just as she told you, none of the staff bothered asking who you were. You took a few turns down the several hallways until it opened up into the main ballroom for the event, where you instantly spotted Mrs.R at the reception table.

You rushed over to her, holding an empty tray.

“Mrs.R!”

She smiled as you came over. “Well, who’s this handsome server?”

“So what next in your master plan?”

She took out a sheet of paper. “This is the itinerary. The singer we had was supposed to get here already, but I’ve managed to send them home. Without a singer, Jay will be desperate for a new one. And then that’s when you’ll take the stage. I’ll give you a signal, so hurry and get backstage!”

You didn’t know whether to be shocked or impressed by her control of the whole plan, but you didn’t have time to decide. You rushed backstage, ditching the metal tray somewhere.

A voice came over the speakers, it was Mrs.R! “Ladies and gentlemen. I deeply apologize for the delay on the music, we’ve finally gotten someone who’s ready to give a little ambiance.”

You could see the audience from where you were standing. Jay was sitting towards the front with an irritated look on his face, talking to some other men he was sitting with. The rest of the audience was either eating or talking amongst themselves, which you were used to, but you got the same feeling from your first performance for Jay… Your hands were cold, your stomach churned, and your knees were locking into place.

Mrs.R walked backstage. “Okay, it's your–,” she noticed your stressed expression. “Oh dear, are you so nervous about performing in front of him?”

You shrugged as your mouth wouldn’t open.

“He wants to see you. And I know you want to see him too, I can see it in your eyes. He needs you to be strong right now, so you have to go!” Mrs.R ended her short pep talk by handing you her microphone and giving you a small push toward the stage.

The push was enough to get you to move your feet, and walk onto the stage. White lights shined onto your face, almost blinding you. Some of the audience was hard to see, but you could see Jay. Front and center, still talking. It didn’t seem like he’d noticed you yet.

You positioned the microphone on the stand and nodded to the band to start the first song in the set. You started singing, only looking at Jay. Hoping he’d look back at you…

It was about a minute into the song before he looked at you for the first time in five days. His expression softened and he cracked a smile when he saw you onstage. He nodded his in approval as you sang to him. You went through the first set of the event before being allowed to have a break.

You stepped backstage and Jay met you there.

“You’re here!?” Jay hugged you tightly.

“Y-Yeah… I’m here.” You hugged him back, enjoying every second of him holding you.

Eventually, the two of you separated, and Jay was the first to speak. “Did you get my messages?”

You nodded. “And did you get mine?”

“Of course I did. I tried to call you, but I was in meetings all day and still had preparations for the event. So I didn’t get the chance to call you… And I honestly thought you didn’t want to hear from me anymore.” Jay’s voice was full of relief, and he looked like he could’ve burst into tears at that moment. “Why did you hang up on me that day? I didn’t get to explain myself…”

“I… I felt a bit jealous. And irritated that you didn’t want to ask me if I wanted to sing for your event, and you assumed I was busy–”

“I was going to ask you to be my date at the party. You’d be too busy sitting with me to be on stage singing, is what I wanted to say.” Jay sighed. “I didn’t think you’d get so irritated that you’d hang up before I could give the pickup line.”

You felt more embarrassed hearing him say it. “When you said date, did you mean an actual one? Or just your plus one?”

“I meant, Date,” Jay said flatly. “I wanted tonight to be special, so I could ask you if we could look into something a little… more personal than Singer and Client. I just didn’t really know how to play it.”

“Is that still on the table?” You asked.

“I’m open to negotiations,” he replied smugly.

“Watch it, businessman. I’m not too into contracts.”

“Right, no cages for the Songbird. I remember.”

You blushed at the nickname. “Do you have somewhere a little private? Just us?”

Jay looked around before leading you to an elevator. It was all glass, with a view of the city as it got higher off the ground. He pressed on the 50th floor, letting the elevator rise. Right before the doors opened, he switched the elevator off. “Private enough?”

You looked out at the city lights. “Perfect.” You pull out your notepad from your pocket. “I wrote you a song if you’re willing to hear it…”

Jay leaned against the wall of the elevator. “A private show? I’d love that…” His gaze was locked on you as you prepared yourself in front of him.

You sang Jay the song you’d spent the last two months writing, pouring in everything you’d felt about him. Tell him about the first time you met, your first performance for him, and how he had your heart since that day…

At the end of your song, you saw a firework explode behind Jay. High in the sky. It shined beautiful green and purple colors. You moved closer to see more fireworks.

“Happy New Year, Songbird…” Jay whispered as he held your waist, pulling you close to him. “Do I get a New Year’s kiss too?” Jay spun you around to face him, his face lighting up from the colors of the fireworks. It felt like time had stopped moving as he leaned down to you. He softly placed his lips on yours, drinking your lips under the stars and lights of a new year. A new year together…

#oracle of dreams #kpop x male reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen #jay #jay enhypen #jay enha #park jongseong #jay park #enhypen x reader #enhypen x male reader

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mythserene · 4 months

Text

A BEATLE DIDN’T SAY THAT! Lewisohn’s lab-created quotes

“One of the things about this book that is a strength is it’s not me saying anything, it’s them or other people. I shape the text, I plot where it goes, I weave it, but the quotes are theirs. And so when I’ve got Paul McCartney behaving in a way some readers might think, ‘Whatever, oh dear,’ it’s actually him saying it. So you end up thinking that to his own credit he said that. It’s not me saying it.” (Mark Lewisohn, ‘Noted,’ (October 7, 2013) Somerset, Guy.)

This is hella long, and that's because it's actually a full blog post. (In case you want it in a less monstrous form.)

A lot of people for a long time have put a lot of trust in Mark Lewisohn’s footnotes. Or at least in the fact of those footnotes. Because once you dig through them for any length of time you quickly discover that Mark Lewisohn’s footnotes hold secrets that would get him expelled from any undergraduate program. They reveal a “history” often contrived through a mass of Frankenquotes, ala carte creations, Lewisohn rephrased ‘paraphrases,’ and worse. For some parts of the narrative things aren’t too bad, yet in others monsters lurk around every corner. But this is not the sort of thing that’s graded on a curve, and it is past time to have a conversation about what standards should be accepted in Beatles’ scholarship.

Lewisohn lists his sources unlike most others. And his footnotes alone are more insightful than some other writers’ books. (Reddit, r/beatles)

I do not judge footnotes based on their insightfulness, nor do I want to single out a redditor, but I grabbed the comment because it’s an opinion that is widely shared and even accepted as canon. At least by people who have not combed those freakish footnotes. And while the pages of piled up sources do look fearsome en masse, a closer inspection reveals an offense to the truth, a threat to the record, and a blight on Beatles’ historiography.

“The rules for writing history are obvious. Who does not perceive that its chief law is never to dare say anything false, and never dare withhold anything true? The slightest suspicion of hatred or favor must be avoided. That such should be the foundations is known to all; the materials with which the building will be raised consist of facts and words.” –Cicero

A Look at Lewisohn’s Lab-created Frankenquotes

FIRST, WHAT ARE QUOTES? AND WHY ARE QUOTES?

Quotes are the soul and center of recorded—and recording— history.

And the rules around quotes and quotation marks are pretty simple. Most people, even if they’ve never written anything beyond a term paper, understand what quotation marks represent.

A set of quotation marks means, “This person said or wrote ‘these exact words’ at some given time.” You can smash a quote from two hours before or two years before right up against a separate quote to make your point—although it might get your grade lowered—but what you cannot do is take two different statements from two different times and make them seem like they are one statement.

When you put words inside one set of quotation marks you are stating, in black and white, that the identified person made this statement. That they said all those words together—or if you want to excise a reasonable part and use ellipses to represent that— as part of the same statement.

Look, combining two separate quotes that are not part of the same thought or topic is not a subjective issue. It is not an issue of controversy. Quotes are the bone marrow of written history. Quotes are the alpha and omega. In academic work or journalism they have to be, which makes sense as soon as you think about it. If it was cool for me to take a transcript and grab half a sentence from page 2 and half a sentence from page 17, push them together as if those words were spoken one after the other in a single thought, I bet I can manage to get those words to say almost anything I want.

Separate thoughts must be in two separate quotation marks. Separate. Somewhere between four sentences and a paragraph is widely accepted as the “two separate quotes” line, and there can be some ethical and technical wiggle room in a long rant by a person, but what makes all that subjective nonsense go out the window is if the quotes come from two separate questions. Or two separate days. That’s two quotes. Not hard.

Which again, makes sense if the point is conveying information to the reader and lessening the chance of a writer manipulating someone else’s words to express something that the person didn’t mean.

This is the contract inherent in a quote. These are the rules we all agree to and understand, and these are the reasons why. And there’s no reason to break them.

Why do you want me to believe that John said these two things at one time? What was wrong with what he did say?

THE FOUR MOST COMMON WAYS MARK LEWISOHN MAULS THE MEANING OF THE QUOTE:

The Basic Lewisohn Frankenquote 🧟‍♂️

(“CONCLUDING FIVE WORDS FROM—” – I cannot even see the point of this THREE PART monster. Full footnote reads: 9) Author interview with Tony Meehan, September 6, 1995. (“I met George again in 1968 and for some reason he was harboring a grudge against me. He was very, very uptight about it—’You blocked us getting a recording contract …’ ”) First part of George quote from interview by Terry David Mulligan, The Great Canadian Gold Rush, CBC radio, May 30 and June 6, 1977; concluding five words from interview for The Beatles Anthology)

This three-headed monster attributed to George Harrison is a very dull little guy. Not particularly venomous. Just convenient, I guess. For whatever reason, Mark Lewisohn decided it was worth rummaging through the quote buffet until he collected enough pieces for George Harrison to say this thing. “…concluding five words from…” What are we even doing here? No, really. Please tell me.

And like a lot of the footnotes for these bespoke quotations, there are further problems. “[F]rom interview for Beatles Anthology”? An interview that aired? In one of the episodes? Can you narrow it down? I guess I’ll just have to listen very closely to them all and hope I don’t miss the five words.

But if we got bogged down in the sorts of trivial details that would immediately lose a college student a letter grade off a History 101 paper we would never get anywhere. We have to stick to the violent felonies.

*Love the "George would say——" Uh, would he? Well, I guess after all that trouble you went to, he would now. It's really incredible how cavalier Lewisohn is about a Beatle's words.

These sorts of reconstituted, lab-engineered, made up “quotes” are shot throughout Tune In. “Quotes” made up of words from two, three, and even four sources, spoken months or often years apart.

Ala Carte Creations 🍱

It really is a buffet, and these ala carte creations come in all shapes and sizes. They might just be words that have been plucked up and glued back together to make something more useful to a particular narrative. (Ellipses or dash optional.)

TUNE IN: “John saw a bigger picture, and it would be surprising if it wasn’t equally obvious, or made obvious, to Brian and George. He likened Paul’s enduring snag with Brian to his other long-standing difficulty: ‘[Brian] and Paul didn’t get along—it was a bit like [Stuart and Paul] between the two of them.’” (Footnote 37: Interview by Peter McCabe and Robert D. Schonfeld, September 1971)

Bonus 🍒 Phoebe's dramatic reading of John's original quote:

The Donut 🍩

Then there are a seemingly uncountable number of “quotes” with a sentence or three ripped out from the middle, but with zero representation that more words were ever there. (And in most of these particular deceptions, the simple representation of something excised (. . .) would make the quote fine. There are a lot of these, but they are also the easiest to fix.)

Chapter 10: “I was in a sort of blind rage for two years. [I was e]ither drunk or fighting. **It had been the same with other girlfriends I’d had.** There was something the matter with me.”

And then there are the true buffet bonanzas, words lifted and twisted beyond recognition until they say something brand spanking new.

However, John remembered Paul’s attitude to Brian being very different. John was always emphatic that Paul didn’t want Brian as the Beatles’ manager and presented obstacles to destabilize him, to make his job difficult … like turning up late for meetings. “Three of us chose Epstein. Paul used to sulk and God knows what … [Paul] wasn’t that keen [on Brian]—he’s more conservative, the way he approaches things. He even says that: it’s nothing he denies.”

The Lewisohn Remixes 🍸

And then there are the “paraphrases.” I couldn’t even begin to guess how many of these there are, and often they aren’t even paraphrases, but whole new Mark Lewisohn re-interpretations with quotation marks slapped around them. But if you don’t check, you probably won’t know, because like this Lewisohn rewrite of a well-known Mrs. Harrison quote, there’s a good chance you’ll recognize the bulk of it, making it less likely that you’ll catch the scalpel work excising Paul. And while I don’t want to get caught in the nooks and crannies of intent in an example like this one I have to say, just this once, that what has to be a purposeful excising of Paul to create a slightly new quote on one side, combined with a badly acted, bad faith—(or bad scholar)—“Where was Paul when John’s mom died?” on the other, is par for the course.

George Harrison’s mom’s made up Lewisohn rephrase which coincidentally removes Paul from the imagery.] ❦ LEWISOHN:“ Asked some years later to describe how he’d been able to help John cope with the loss of Julia, Paul could remember nothing of the period at all. It could be they didn’t see much of each other in the summer of 1958. John was working at the airport, and Paul and George went on holiday together—adventurous for boys of 16 and 15. But Louise Harrison would recall how she encouraged George to visit John at Mendips, “so he wouldn’t be alone with his thoughts.” ❦ DAVIES: “They were still practicing a lot at George’s house, the only house where they got endless hospitality and encouragement. . . . I forced George to go round and see him, to make sure he still went off playing in their group and just didn’t sit and brood. They all went through a lot together, even in those early days, and they always helped each other.”

Why do you have to slice and dice and reconstitute people’s words? No writer, and certainly no historian, should ever feel empowered to take words from a historical figure from two or three different places and topics and times, splice them together, and tell us, “Winston Churchill said this.” No he didn’t! Why are you so intent on changing the words of the people you’re writing about? What’s wrong with just using two different quotes?

You cannot take two or three quotes from two or three or even four separate statements, stick them between one set of quotation marks and say John or Paul or George or Joe Smith said this.

No they didn’t. They never said that. Why do you want me to think they did??

All these words are Abraham Lincoln’s, but this is not a Lincoln quote:

“Every man is said to have his peculiar ambition. Whether it be true or not, I can say for one that I have no other so great as that of — making a most discreditable exhibition of myself.”

(I kept it ridiculous, although I didn’t have to.)

But I want you, the reader, to be saying to yourself, “Okay, enough already. I get it!” Because in the last few days I have wandered too far into the weeds too many times and written far too many words detailing the multiplicity of ways Mr. Lewisohn does violence to each and every law of reporting historical facts, and could write many more. And I will post a more detailed list of the crimes against the quote that I am charging Mark Lewisohn with as we go forward, but I don’t think we need that now. The fact is that every fair-minded person knows what quotation marks represent, and there is no more fair-minded group of people than serious Beatles fans and scholars. And it is those fair-minded scholars who I want most to hear me. Whether you’ve written books or host a podcast or just know that you know a whole lot of stuff and take seriously your part of the trust in preserving the truth about The Beatles for us and future generations, it is you I am really talking to. My Cicero quoting-freaks. The ones who care about getting it right.

“The chief, the only, aim of style is to put facts in a clear light, with no concealment.” - Lucian of Samosata

⁠What footnotes can do, and what footnotes can’t.

You can list multiple sources in a single footnote. That’s not only fine, it’s correct. If I want to tell part of a story based on several sources, that often means several sources in a footnote. But not for one, single quote.

The problem isn’t the footnote, it’s the bioengineered quote on the page that you swept under a footnote hoping I wouldn’t notice.

Which leads us to what a footnote is not. A footnote is not a post-hoc fixative for your textual sins. You cannot do whatever you want as long as you confess it in a footnote. A footnote is not a magic spell. A footnote is not the universally understood symbol for “I have my fingers crossed behind my back.” You cannot fix lies and misrepresentations in the footnotes. Footnotes aren’t for trying to chase down three different sources to match up which part of a manufactured “quote” someone said on which date. Footnotes are not the picture on the front of a puzzle box. I should not need to find corner pieces to figure out which of these George Harrison words were actually spoken together.

Footnotes are a truthful and independently verifiable record of primary sources. It’s that simple.

And taking Mark Lewisohn completely out of the picture for a moment, I feel sure we can all agree that neither John Lennon nor Paul McCartney nor George Harrison nor Ritchie Starkey would want anyone rearranging their words as if they were guitar chords. You wouldn’t take three-quarters of Penny Lane and one-quarter of Across the Universe, put them together and call it a Beatles‘ song. So don’t take three quarters of John to Jann Wenner and one-quarter of John to Lisa Robinson, put them together and call it a Beatle’s quote.

MY PERSONAL STANDARD IS THAT IF SOMEONE REPRESENTS, “A BEATLE SAID THIS,” IT BETTER DAMN WELL BE SOMETHING A BEATLE SAID.

None of the Beatles, dead or alive, would be cool with their words being taken out of context at all, let alone two or three different statements on god knows what being combined into one. This isn’t hard, though. Use two or three separate quotation marks, and don’t take statements out of context. Don’t mix and match their words, but don’t twist them, either. If a person said something, it is the historian’s duty to represent those words to the best of your ability, and then use them to tell a factual story focused on what you feel is important. Staying true to the original words and true to their meaning. If you can’t use those words without twisting them, then change your story to fit their words, not the other way around. If their statement helps tell the story your way, use it! For goodness sake, John Lennon said at least two opposing things about almost every topic on earth, so there should be enough to choose from without being deceptive. I actually want the truth. Don’t you?

Biography is story based around accurately represented, trustworthy and verifiable facts. And look, Beatles fans, whoever your favorite is: we are not going to get the truth about his history if we don’t learn to take these things seriously. Let’s have—if not high standards—at least the lowest generally accepted standards. In the mid-term we need a lot more Beatles scholars with a lot more points of view, and now—right now—we need experienced Beatles scholars to prioritize searching out and finding smart, interested people to mentor. And we simply must ensure that we aren’t allowing to solidify into stone “facts” that are not facts and statements no one ever made. I don’t think any honest Beatles fan—(which rounds up to all of them)—wants any question around that issue.

The record is the most important thing. Now, and always. This is not about John versus Paul. John versus Paul may live on always in our hearts, but for Beatles history, it’s the wrong question. I’d rather someone be up front about their loves, but in the end the focus should be on representing the primary facts in their most pristine form. Love who you love most, but place truth above all. Pristine facts. Pristine quotes. Nothing hidden. Nothing misrepresented.

Let the historical actors speak for themselves. That is their right.

And the historian’s duty.

NEXT, WE DISSECT A MONSTER.

Final note: I became frustrated and (maybe strangely) offended by Lewisohn's obscene pretenses in 2020, but my frustrations were nebulous and unfocused until this incredible AKOM series. I feel much better now. Angrier. But better. They worked their asses off. 🥂

#lewisohn #akom #the beatles #tune in #fine tuning #frankenquotes #lewisohn's monsters #historiography #paul mccartney #john lennon #george harrison #ringo starr #mark lewisohn #a beatle never said that #beatles #brian epstein #allen klein #Spotify

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friccafracc · 16 days

Note

DROP THE FIC OR IM COMING FOR YOUR KNEECAPS

ALRIGHT OK BUT I NEED IT TO BE KNOWN THAT I HAVENT WRITTEN ANYTHING SERIOUSLY SINCE HIGHSCHOOL OK

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

“Something is after me. I know it is, I’ve seen it. It looks like a man, but I know that it’s not. It…. It’s face is like a mockery of something human- like- like if you asked someone who has never seen a human to draw or model a person’s face, their smile. No… I don’t think any human would be able to get it that wrong.”

“And I’m not crazy, alright? God, y’all probably get that a lot here, don’t you? You people specialize in crazy. Not that I’m anyone to judge anymore, given the shit I went through before coming out here. I didn’t even know a place like this existed outside the Usher Foundation. I just…there’s some weird, crazy shit out there I guess, and when I heard about y’all, I figured I should probably pay a visit. At least let someone know before I die.”

“I know I’m gonna die.”

“I suppose I should start from the beginning. My name is Joshua Nelson, I’m originally from the States–Memphis Tennessee. Now, if there’s one thing you should know about Memphis, it’s that nobody in their right mind should EVER move there on their own accord, ‘cause you’ll either get mugged or stalked or both. I was born and raised there, so I never really got the choice during the formative years of my life. I’ve learned to live with it, though.”

“I worked retail in a gas station before…well, everything. It was a shithole. The kind of building where, no matter how hard you scrubbed and no matter how much bleach you used, the stains and smell of smoke would never leave. Instead just…mingled with the citrus of the chemicals. It paid the bills, though, and I was never witness to a robbery, so I couldn’t complain too much. The customers were docile and if I noticed anyone shoplifting, I kept it to myself. I wasn’t getting paid enough to give a damn.”

“We had regulars that would come in on a schedule and regulars that wouldn’t. People who were just passing through the city or visiting family or friends. You get all types in that kinda place, and if you’re placid enough to any asshole who’s having a bad day, everyone gets along just fine. There were a couple of regulars who were friendly enough, though, that I remember their names. Miss Kelly was an older woman, short and heavyset–she was one of the friendlier ones. We’ve got a lot of talkers in the south and boy did she make sure I knew every exact reason for what her kids were getting up to, or what was going on in a reality show she was hooked on at the time.”

“George Michael, a thin man in his 40s, maybe, always came in whenever he needed a new pack of cigarettes, I think he was a chain-smoker, cause he was in there a lot.”

“And then…then there was Hunter. Now Hunter was a younger man, maybe college age. A little older than that? Poor bastard was hooked on something, that much anyone could tell. He was gaunt, a little twitchy, you know, telltale signs of drug abuse. I could never tell what specifically he was on, but then again, it was never my business to know. I treated him the same as every other customer, we all knew he wasn’t gonna cause any harm, he usually came in for food, chips and hotdogs and stuff and he never caused a fuss.”

“I think… I think Hunter is dead.”

“One day he came in, I think it was a Wednesday or something cause it was slow that afternoon, and he burst through the door. Well–maybe not burst, but he came in the building like he was racing to get indoors first before someone else. The guy was usually jittery and, I’ll admit, a little shifty usually, but this was full blown paranoia. It startled me at first, his intensity, and he made a b-line towards the back of the store and ducked behind one of the shelves. Maybe not duck completely like ducking for cover, but it was obvious he was hiding. It almost made me expect the police or some drug lord to come storming through the door, but nobody else came.”

“Hunter stayed pacing in the building for a good 20 or 30 minutes, periodically lifting his head to crane his neck and peer out the window or the glass of the door. I checked once or twice as well, but if someone was out there, I didn’t see them. Eventually the guy calmed down enough to buy something and when he approached the counter with his bag of Doritos he looked almost like he was going to be sick.”

“I asked him if everything was alright, but he just shook his head and left.”

“I didn’t see him again for another week or two after that. Obviously I assumed the worst. I theorized that someone was after him and when he didn’t show up when he usually did it was more than enough to confirm my suspicions. Be it cops or some random person on the street, I couldn’t decide which fate would be worse, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel for the guy at least a little bit.”

“Hunter was almost completely out of my mind when I saw him again. I was surprised. By all accounts, it didn’t look like anything had changed about him. Maybe aside from the fact that his posture was way better than it usually was when I saw him, but other than that, nothing was out of the ordinary.”

“Business went on as usual and when he came up to the till with a liter of coke, I offered him a ‘Welcome Back’ and rang him up.”

“When I turned back to him, he was smiling. For some reason it was like a pit opened in the bottom of my stomach. I couldn’t understand why, though. It looked like Hunter–patchy, unkempt stubble, greasy hair, thin face, sunken eyes. His appearance had never bothered me before, so I was struck with confusion that mixed in with the undefinable, sudden sense of dread.”

“‘Thank you,’ he said as I handed him his change. And he walked out the door. It sounded like Hunter, too.”

“Hunter returned the next day, and the next. Each time he was polite and quiet, and each time he smiled when I rang him up. I counted his teeth. They were straight and flat. When I counted mine in the mirror when I smiled, I saw 17 or 18. Hunter’s counted 24.”

“Maybe he has a dental problem that I didn’t notice until now, I told myself. Human bodies are weird. Sometimes you have more teeth than usual.”

“The fourth day he came in a row, I saw his eyes and his pupils were…swollen, is the only way I can describe them. I know what people’s eyes look like when they’re high. This was not that. It was like they almost swallowed up his irises completely, and they were dull. Dull in the sense that the fluorescents overhead did nothing to cast any reflections onto them. It made me want to writhe and squirm whenever he looked at me.”

“I called in sick the fifth day. I knew Hunter would be back in that gas station to see me. I knew it was to see me. And I knew that thing. That..whatever it was. It wasn’t Hunter.”

“I guess a part of me was always dreading that day. I had always heard stories about people being stalked from friends of friends. It was only a matter of time before it happened to me, right?”

“I saw Hunter at the grocery store the next day, posture straight and face split open into that smile with too many teeth. I didn’t have the mind to be polite. I turned completely around and walked the other way, trying to fool myself thinking that he hadn’t seen me. I kept a pocket knife on me after that encounter. I probably should have been before, but hindsight is always 20/20.”

“Each time I saw him after that, it was worse. On the street to my apartment, his eyes were too wide and his grinning mouth was slightly agape. A crude facsimile of delight as I rushed past him. I stopped going into work when I started to spot him everywhere I went. Every destination no matter how far or random, he was there, grinning at me. He knew where I lived, that I had no doubt. So I went to a friend’s one night hoping to throw him off. Maybe I could move out and lose him. Lord knows I didn’t have the money to break my lease early, but I was desperate.”

“My friend suggested I call the police, but for some reason I was convinced that wouldn’t help. Cops usually only made things worse in that town, and I had a sinking feeling going that route would only waste my time.”

“The final straw was the second night I was crashing on my friend’s couch. I was exhausted, the past few weeks spent sleepless and paranoid and I was ready to finally pass out when I heard a light, rhythmic tapping on the window behind my head.”

“It’s just the wind, I thought to myself. A tree branch or something scraping against the glass. The exhaustion was completely gone, my pounding heart and pumping adrenaline overpowering any lame excuse that I would be stupid enough to be reassured by.”

“I didn’t move from where I lay. Tap. Tap. Tap. Came through the window once again.”

“I don’t know why I laid there for so long, unmoving, convinced that if I didn’t turn around, whatever it was outside would lose interest and leave. I really, really wanted it to leave.”

“I lay still for what felt like hours, every muscle in my body wound up and tense and ready to leap into action at any given opportunity. I was praying the opportunity would never come.”

“I don’t know how long it was when the tapping ceased, but it was long before I finally managed to relax. It seemed like my strategy worked. What an idiotic thing to think. Like I was a child hiding from an imaginary monster in the dark. Like the logic of not giving a stalker any attention so it would go away was sound. No. I think it was that false hope that landed me in this situation.”

“Because when that tapping came again, I wasn’t prepared to turn around. But I did. I turned around and what I saw in the darkness through that glass was… I don’t know what it was. I know it had eyes and teeth. It was grinning, but its teeth stretched well beyond what would be the borders of its face. God, I couldn’t see its face. I knew it was Hunter, though. It had those same lightless eyes that stared back at me every time I closed my own. Dead and dark and dull and staring at me–eating at me, wide and gleeful and spilling into the shadow that I could only assume was a part of the creature, itself. Its form took up nearly the entirety of the window, blocking the outside world. It didn’t move.”

“I screamed. I screamed and closed the curtains and I hid. This woke my friend of course, and she came stumbling out of her room, looking bleary but alert. I tried to signal to her not to go to the window or do anything or to call the police. Thankfully she got the message and the cops were there within the hour.”

“They didn’t find anything. Or anyone, for that matter. I left out the…the monster bit, because I assumed it might land me somewhere I really didn’t want to go.”

“They were about as helpful as I thought they would be. Told me to call them again if I noticed any suspicious activity.”

“I booked my flight here that very night. I wasn’t going to stay in that goddamn city with whatever the HELL that thing was. I don’t want to end up like Hunter. I don’t want it to wear my skin.”

“It will, though. I know it will and it scares me more than anything in the world. And I know I can’t escape it, either.”

“It followed me here. I saw it. It was still grinning at me and it was still. Wearing. Hunter’s. Skin. The shadow that was cast over it made it so I could only see the whites of it’s eyes....its teeth.”

“I don’t want to die.”

#txt #oc fic #tma sona #tma oc #avatar of the stranger #ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE IVE WRITTEN FIC...PLS BE NICEYS

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forwntrx · 5 months

Text

GIRLS LIKE GIRLS ┊͙˚. 13. THE JEALOUS TYPE

𑁍┊how i met you (written flashback)

sweat stuck to your forehead. the higher ups of sm entertainment judged you with sharp, razor focused eyes. they looked at your curves. your thighs. they noted your attitude. your flow. your stability. they only wanted the best of the best.

out of the six in the room, you knew you had a spot on this team.

it wasn’t arrogance. you just knew. you heard it in the upper offices, in overheard meetings with shareholders, this girl group was made for you.

it was just a matter of keeping up with their word—proving yourself over and over, so they’d never have a doubt in your mind. that you wanted this. and you did. more than you had ever wanted to breathe, eat, or drink anything.

the song came to an end. the six of you are in the final poses. you turned around to the representatives at the back of the room. white nametags stuck to your clothes with a number.

you’re number one. the representatives call you out by name. you come forward, and this time they will give you a one word response. pass or fail.

this was the final cut. the final decision on who would be in the group and who wouldn’t.

you’re called first. they looked at you for what could be the final time. they’ve studied you for years.

each one of them nodded their head. internally, you breathed out in relief. not because you thought you wouldn’t make it, but because now you could live without constantly looking over your shoulder. you moved to the other side of the room. who would be next?

the other girls’ in the room, some of them you’ve known for a long time, looked terrified. you held your fingers together, wishing for good results for jimin and yizhuo. luckily, jimin is called second and yizhuo third. the rest of the girls looked ready to vomit, except for one. it’s like the more time went on, the calmer she got. and then you saw why.

you had barely talked to her. she had joined the same time as jimin and yizhuo. they were both her friends. you thought at first she had hated you based on the way she avoided you. but jimin assured you that she was just shy.

but this was not shy behavior. she was confident, assured, even more so as her name was said.

“kim minjeong. pass.”

jimin and yizhuo cheered. the two girls left broke out into tears. you felt the sting. one of the representatives lifted up, and rubbed both of their shoulders.

good luck next time, the representative said.

the four of you bow to them and it finally set in. you were teammates now. no longer did you have to compete and compare.

now, you could be real friends.

jimin offered to treat for the meal out in celebration. you shared millions of laughs and hugs. but still, your eyes only gloss over minjeongs (you hope you are remembering her name correctly). you have no idea what to do—or what to talk about?

how come you always knew what to say except for right now? jimin and yizhou seem to notice the division between you two. as you both finish up eating, yizhou offered to head for ice cream, being the youngest she nominated you to buy. you rolled your eyes before agreeing.

“whoever’s there last is a rotten egg!!” yizhou winked to you, before grabbing jimin and running down the street.

you knew what she was doing; you weren’t gonna run after them, and it seemed like minjeong wasn’t doing that shit either.

you both laugh together for a moment, because yizhou is unbelievable. but then the laughter ended.

there’s an awkward silence that settles between you two. you can feel her eyes on you for a moment. then, you look at her—properly that is. she didn’t wear much makeup, if any at all. her hair is long, and shiny, and her face is oddly..cute? that’s the only way you describe it. you wanted to hug her until she got tired of you and threw you off.

you really wanted to be her friend.

so you smiled at her. “i’m yn. you’re minjeong right?”

minjeong smiled back, then nodded. “that’s me. i think i’ve met you somewhere, no?”

you hum and tap your chin like your in deep thought. “maybe in a mall somewhere?”

“i thought i saw you at that one spa?” minjeong asked with a furrowed eyebrow. there’s a certain glimmer in her eye. like she saw something in you that you didn’t understand.

you will see it more and more over the years.

you both fell into laughter. you shook your head and pointed to the ice cream shop only a bit away.

“how about we race and see who gets there first?”

she rolled her eyes. “i’m winning.”

you grinned. “wanna bet?”

years later, she’d turn into your best friend. aeri would join the group after this. aespa, the name of your group, would debut and soon become something more than just friends.

𑁍┊i’ve waited years

you were tolerating the situation. just one more day. then things would go back to normal. that’s what you kept telling yourself.

the van felt tighter somehow. even though minjeong was right next to you, you two couldn’t be more far apart.

schedules felt long and boring without you two laughing and giggling the whole time. your fingers were cold. your lips were blue. your heart was angry. it was barely december and seoul’s weather still had your teeth helplessly chattering, fingers shaking inside the pockets of your fur jacket. you want to hold her hands, they were always warm like baskets of oven-baked bread, but she was so cold now.

you were good at pretending for others, but you had little luck when it came to minjeong. it’s hard to act like you don’t feel her eyes on you.

her glare never eased up.

it was at practice when you messed up a dance move. at interviews when you laughed and smiled. at schedules when you greeted other groups. at twelve hour flights fresh out the airport.

she wouldn’t say anything. wouldn’t even open her mouth to let you know what was going on. she would just blink and look at you with those big pretty eyes of hers.

you hated the way she frowned when you spoke. you wanted her to smile. somehow, you made her feel this way, and you had no idea how.

you tried to touch her, hold onto her, hold onto some part of her she had now locked away from you; and become confused when she just..pushes you away. like you meant nothing.

you kept trying. everytime, she’d brush you off with a timid, half-assed laugh.

at first it hurt.

then it started to annoy the shit out of you. it was breaking you. there was only so much you could take.

now, it’s the second week of schedules. as of today, minjeong has ignored you for a solid five days. you asked jimin about it, and she just shook her head. then, you asked ning ning. she wore that guilty look on her face like she knew.

last, you went to aeri. they all knew what was going on, but no one wanted to be the one to break the truth. aeri is the only one who’ll tell you a little portion of it.

she’s mad, she told you. yeah, you already knew that. so you asked why. she shrugged, and said, when isn’t she? and you rolled your eyes.

you finally understood at a particularly late practice. in three weeks time, your group would be releasing a single for sm station. a remake of a popular girl group song. you liked your parts. you and minjeong went toe-for-toe with drawn-out high notes, and she sounded beautiful.

the legendary boa was mentoring you all, making sure everything being worked on was crisp, pristine, and neat. you’ve been worked this hard before, but that didn’t make it less tiring.

you knew the dance well. you had picked it up the fastest. five minutes. but that didn’t mean you were a robot. in the middle of the song, you collapse. the whole room rumbled in annoyance.

you breathed hardly, and made something of an apology. aeri instantly dropped to your side and rubbed your back.

“don’t worry about it, yn. you’ve been going hard this whole time. calm down,” she smiled, trying to make the tense air lighter.

though no one said anything about it, everyone was tired and wanted to go home. your inability to keep going was only making things worse. you wish you could pull it together, but the pain in your abs from hours and hours of hardwork begged you to rest.

beside you, minjeong whispered. “how many times are you gonna mess up the same part?” you almost snapped. it took everything in you to close your eyes and focus on your breathing.

not in front of boa. not right now. you opened your eyes and glared up at her. she looked away in surprise. yeah, i definitely heard you.

“all right,” boa said, her eyes flickering from you to minjeong in confusion. “someone get her some water, and we’ll go over this tomorrow i think. i’m gettin’ a little tired. yn?”

everyone let out a little noise in relief. ten hours of practice, and now, they were granted with a couple hours of sleep.

you looked up to boa. “i’m sorry. i don’t know what’s up with me today.”

boa shook her head. “you’re fine. you’re a phenomenal dancer. one of the best i’ve met. that’s not what i want you to worry about.”

jimin ran to grab you some water and once she had your bottle, kneeled beside you and carefully held the drink to your lips. you gulp it down in five seconds. she pulled it away from your lips and nodded. aeri, still beside you, continued to rub your back supportively. though everyone was tired, they still would always make sure you were good. minjeong, even with how things were with you two, was looking down at you worriedly.

“you okay?” she asked. “i’m sorry for my comment. i let my tiredness get the best of me.”

you wiped away the excess water from the corner of your lips. “it’s whatever.” you’re cold. she winced. yeah, you can do it too.

boa made a face at your communication. you can tell by her face what she’ll say next. you want to wince next. fuck.

“i can tell you both know it well, but yn, i want you to work with minjeong for a short while on the part you two have together. there seems to be a little bit of tension here. for it to have the best look, you have to work together.”

easier said than done.

the others waste little to no time on getting out the room. your manager peaked his head inside, said he’d back for you two later, and ushered the others out the building. you groaned as the door shut behind him. now there was no telling when he’d be back. ‘a short while’ could be another two hours.

you weren’t fond of picking up others messes. to you, this was a mess that wasn’t your responsibility to fix. minjeong was mad. okay? you had already asked her five million times what was wrong. it was her choice to sit there, mope, and glare at you instead of helping you fix the issue.

jimin is the last to leave the room. she gave you both a look and whispered to you. fix it. why was it always your responsibility?

you loved minjeong. you did. but you weren’t doing shit until she said something.

the practice room is eerily quiet. you noticed her small movements. she walked across the sleek wood, rummaged through her bag, drunk some water, closed the cap, and took her position at the mirror. you turn to look at her, head to toe—messy hair, grey sweatpants, loose grey t-shirt, bare face. you loved her like this. she looked so new. not like winter, but like minjeong.

you wished she would look back at you.

instead, she spoke.

“let’s just do the part so we can go home and sleep.” she said.

“yeah, sure.” you slowly nodded your head. you hated the way her words lingered in the air. you lean forward to a long table on the left side of the mirrors. there’s some cds on the table and a music player. you press down on the familiar track, and quickly get into position before it began. an electronic beat entered your ears. you count down.

jimin opened the song, then ning ning, then you.

you mumbled the lyrics, expertly and skillfully dancing on the beat. minjeong followed after you with small little moves, only going all out when her parts come on. her voice is strong, powerful, and feminine. she had gotten her lines down in two takes. if there was one thing minjeong could do, it was sing her ass off.

you tried your hardest to just focus on your own body in the mirror, how it moves and flows from years of practice and natural talent. but minjeong is distracting. there’s something about her dancing. it’s not unique or jaw-breaking. but it’s sharp, and steady, and focused. she knew what she was doing. she loved what she was doing.

you missed your part. you blinked. fuck. she was distracting. you quickly tried to match up your footwork with hers but you’re a beat behind. minjeong let out an exasperated sigh.

she paused the song and quickly spun around to you with arms folded against her chest. “what’s up with you?”

you have to stop yourself from screaming. why is she making this your fault? why is she acting like YOU did this?

“what’s up with me? what’s up with you!” you didn’t know why your voice was so loud. it’s been years since you’ve spoken like this to her. you didn’t raise your voice much, it wasn’t in your personality but you couldn’t help it. minjeong pushed your buttons and now she took it too far.

“what?” she asked, playing dumb.

“don’t WHAT me! you’ve been avoiding me for days. in real life, in texts, at work! it’s exhausting!”

her eyes narrowed and her bottom lip quivered with anger. you both took steps. breaking the gap between you two. you got the closest you have gotten in days. you could smell her easily. sweat, amber, and vanilla. you could almost taste her.

“i’m exhausting?” she asked, her voice growing louder.

“you know that’s not what i meant!” you’re almost yelling. she is too.

“sure it is! you’ve stopped making time for me!started hanging out with other people! stopped texting when you go out! what am i suppose to think, yn?”

you laughed in a slightly condescending way. she recoiled. “i’m not your girlfriend, minjeong! i don’t need to constantly update you on my whereabouts!”

her face flashed with hurt, before it quickly went away. “you disappeared, yn! you can’t do that. you could’ve been hurt, or dead, or something—i don’t know! you don’t just abandon your friends!”

you stared at her for a moment. she’s talking about after the show. when you snuck off with yunjin. she’s still upset over it.

both of you are breathing hard. her chest rose and fell. the room was quiet. you hyper-focus on the sound of fast cars zooming through seoul, the energetic chatter of people on the streets, the sizzling pans of street vendors. the faint violin strings from another practice room. she surveyed your face, searching for any type of an answer.

“you sound jealous of yunjin.” you said. it made perfect sense. you had friends, but none of them were as important to you as minjeong. she never had to deal with competition before.

how she saw it, yunjin was competition. you didn’t see it the same way. you could admit you had messed up in this situation, as everyone was saying. but you can tell that’s not the only thing she’s upset over. minjeong won’t admit it, but you knew it was yunjin.

minjeong is shocked. she shook her head. “i’m not!” she yelled again.

“yunjin is my friend, you’re my friend!” now you’re yelling again. minjeong is quick to cut you off.

“please,” she’s exasperated. she’s close. your eyes widened, but you don’t take a step back, “don’t lie to me. i know you.”

you paused. you didn’t think of it much—the possibility of your feelings for yunjin. you liked her company, you thought she was cute. maybe pretty. no, honestly, she was beautiful. but feelings? that was something big, that was something too tangible for someone like you. that was real. you didn’t do real. not like that.

you loved your career. your band mates. your fans. your friends. you didn’t have room in your life for a relationship. for something so new.

“i don’t have feelings for yunjin!” do you mean it? you don’t know. this is all new. and it might be real.

minjeong wanted to believe you did. “yn—“

this time, you cut her off. “be honest with me! for once, minjeong. tell me the truth.”

you’re high off the tension, off the senseless anger. you closed the space, whatever is left, between you two. her eyes widened next and for some reason, they flicker down and then back up to your eyes. what?

she swallowed. it’s quiet again. she couldn’t deflect now.

“if it’s not yunjin, then i’m seriously confused. i just want to fix things, okay—” you tried to continue, but minjeong groaned.

“fuck it.” minjeong’s fingers grabbed onto your waist, jutting you forward. you gasped.

she scrambled your brain into soup. your skin felt like it was on fire. your eyes fell onto her lips. they’re so pink. you’ve never seen them this close—her breath fanned against your lips—this barely made sense. you can’t form a sentence, or even think, because none of this made sense.

“m..minjeong..” you are able to whisper out.

minjeong is in another world. she’s usually shy, non-confrontational, always in her own head, but now she’s present. here with you.

“would you be surprised if i told you i’ve wanted to kiss you since i met you?”

you’re lightheaded. what? you tried to make a sentence, but it just came out in a gibberish mess. she laughed a little.

“you’re always so cute when you’re confused.”

you want to say something, anything, but then she asked you a question.

“can i kiss you?”

and you swear you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. this is real. too real. and you should say no, but she’s too pretty like this—and something deep inside of you wanted this—and then you’re nodding your head—but then she’s talking again.

“i need to hear you say it.”

you knew that a kiss would change everything—your relationship would never be the same—are you ready for that? are you ready for this? but then her lips parted slightly, and you lost all train of thought, and for some reason you’re whispering—“kiss me,” so gently you thought she didn’t hear you.

but she did. she’s just taking it in. like she had been waiting for this. you realize that she had. and then her lips were pressing onto yours.

her fingers cupped your cheek, and you leaned into the touch. her scent of amber and vanilla is overpowering you, but you couldn’t get enough.

the kiss was careful, scared—and you start to panic—you’ve never done this before, with minjeong and—you thought of yunjin.

no. no. no. you pulled away before you could overthink even more.

minjeong realized instantly that second. you regretted it. her cheeks’ fled red. “i’m sorry, yn. so sorry. i—i’m sorry.”

you hated the way she hid from you. you wanted to tell her, you don’t regret her. it. but you don’t know what you’re feeling right now. but still, you reach out to her, but she’s already running from you.

running from her emotions, again. running from communication, again.

“wait, minjeong—”

but she’s already gone, and the door of the practice room slammed after her.

you stood alone. confused. you took the ride back to the dorms by yourself.

yunjin called you later that night.

you declined it.

𑁍┊masterlist －previous — next

and that’s act one

i enjoyed this throughouly

don’t worry yunyn agenda you will have a comeback!!! ;)

𑁍┊ a/n: i’m sorry, i’m really putting y’all through it 😭😭😭

𑁍┊ taglist: open :) @runawaymazola @wintersgff @winieter @luvjanexx @justme-idle @sewiouslyz @lcv3lies @yerisdumbass @nasyu-kookies @kchwnsgf @jeindall777 @dr-wholehearted @thoughtfulqueenlady @yunalvrrr @juhyunsthirdwife @haerinfangs @awkwardtoafault @idk-idc-rn @unforgiven-000-hotline @dream-chasers-things @pandafuriosa60 @1r3n31ty

#winter x reader #yunjin #aespa #aespa imagines #aespa smau #aespa x fem reader #huh yunjin #kpop crack #kpop smau #lesserafim yunjin #gxg #lesserafim smau #aespa x reader #aespa scenarios #kim minjeong x reader

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rehfan · 1 month

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*opens calculator app* 😂 Wait so you were nearly the same age as the kids in Stranger Things in the RL 1980s? I'm so curious, do you have any pet peeves or things you chuckle about when it comes to the younger generation writing about experiences they've never had? Example, I'm in my early 30s so it's funny to me when I can clearly tell someone is currently in their early 20s by the way they write conversing on a landline phone. Like, not judging anyone or their writing. But it's amusing to be able to tell they grew up with mobile phones and wifi as the norm and I am really curious if you have that about the way my or any other younger generation writes certain things.

I was nearly the same age as the Party, yes. In 1986 I was actually 12 - which puts me in 7th grade/beginning of 8th - so I was more Erica’s age.

I had a Trapper Keeper. (Several actually.) I had leg warmers (red - given to me as a present) but I only wore them once because they felt stupid. My VERY FIRST CRUSH was on a senior student the next year (our school was a Jr/Sr High School so everyone from grades 7-12 were all in one building) and he looked JUST LIKE EDDIE. Not exaggerating. So when I saw the beginning of Season 4… I kind of lost my mind a little.

My “Eddie”:

When I finally got to high school (1988-89) I looked just like Eddie. Denim jacket with the buttons and pins, wild curly brown hair, all that.

I’m the chick circled in red talking with my friends:

So when I read fic written by younger people, I do tend to fact check them in my head. For instance: CDs were not a widespread thing until the 90’s y’all. (Google is your friend.) And most people of means had a set of encyclopedia in their homes, but they tended to only buy ONE set. Once outdated, there was no replacing them because they were EXPENSIVE. So going to the library for research was a thing. A BIG thing. There was no internet, of course, so that’s all we had. That, and our parents and teachers. That’s all we had to go for information about EVERYTHING — including sex.

Remember too: this is also 1986 and that’s the beginning of the height of the HIV/AIDS crisis. Gay men were dying in droves. No one knew the cause, but most figured that if it was relegated to only the gay male community then… *collective society shrug*. The insidious illness also added to the intended insult of being called “gay” or a “gaylord” at that time. Effeminate males were ostracized, treated as “other”, and even beaten and killed. It was dangerous to be Out - but it was also dangerous to exist. It was (for the most part, and to my limited understanding) a hidden-away hookup culture by necessity with an even darker underbelly because having sex could be a death sentence. Most all the Steddie stuff I’ve read set in that time tends to ignore these undertones - including homosexual characters practicing unprotected sex.

But if a writer is only smut-focused when writing their fic, I can see why that choice was made.

And even the Duffers kinda fucked up. In Season 4 Ep 1, the song that played (“Do You Want To Play”) when Dustin and Mike are tearing around the school looking for an extra to fill in for Lucas for D&D, that song (by Extreme) didn’t come out until 1988. I know - I owned that album. On cassette tape. Bought it when it came out.

So all in all, no one’s perfect and all these stories are based around a small town experiencing supernatural craziness, so I’m willing to give it all a pass.

Go write your fic, kids. And if you want An Old to 80’s-pick your fic, my ask is always open.

#fanfic #writing #personal #fandom #stranger things #eddie munson #joe quinn #joseph quinn #joe keery #steve harrington #steddie

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tacobellabeanburrito · 1 month

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hello this is Anon again. could you please direct me to your favorite Ace Attorney fics? I’ve read pretty much all the popular ones so I’m looking for some more niche ones :) thank you!!

Oh Anon… You sweet, sweet summer child. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.

I was already planning on doing an Ace Attorney fic rec list because I wanted to share some of my favorite ones (A lot of the ones I read aren’t on many of the regular fic rec lists, so I wanted to share some ones that I feel like are really good and maybe don’t get enough recognition) So I am very glad you asked Anon, gives me reason to actually continue on my fic rec list! I love sharing my favorite fics!

Most of them are Narumitsu, couple are Krisnix, and some are both. Also a couple stragglers out there without a ship as well. There will also be some smut ones (Don’t judge please lmao) (Also, just saying. There’s no good Krisnix in this fic list, all of it is seen as toxic, I ship them as Toxic Tragic Yuri and they’re not good as a real relationship. Just a disclaimer)

Some will have big blurbs about them from me explaining their plot a little and what I like about them. For others, I’ll just post them because I don’t really feel like talking about them in detail. But I promise they’re all good!

I’m not going to link them this time, cause I dunno how to do that without making a huge mess cause there’s so many and I don’t want my post to be wonky. And I’m also not going to categorize them because I’m eepy and didn’t get enough sleep last night, so you can figure it out yourself Anon lmao.

(But if you can’t find any, please tell me I’ll help)

So, without further ado… Here are my fic recs!

Fics:

Perfect by Sideblog: My absolute, all time favorite AA fic! Ever! Literally ever! I don't really wanna talk about the plot because that basically spoils the whole thing and I don't wanna do that to you, you just gotta read it! It is beautifully written and has an amazing concept that I would never think of in a million years! Seriously, so criminally underrated to the point of I have no idea how it doesn’t have like 15,000 hits on A3O. Even though I didn't explain much of the plot, just know that it is incredible and absolutely worth a read. I come back to it sometimes to read it because IT IS THAT GOOD. When I first saw this fic I didn’t really know what to expect because there weren’t any warnings or practically anything. Very mysterious fic. So glad I read it, though. When you get done reading this Anon, you gotta tell me what you think.

El Capo A Fine by tellezara: There’s something incredible about specialized Au fics in which you can tell that despite whatever the Au fic is about, the writer has an absolute love for the subject. This one is about musical instruments and Ace Attorney characters being part of an orchestra, and you can tell that this person has done orchestra before (Or at least thoroughly researched it and has a love for it) because they put in so many facts and interesting tidbits about instruments and the orchestra world that I never knew about and I loved learning about all of it. Fics like these are very special in my opinion because those people write it out of pure love for whatever the subject is and whatever the fandom is. Anyway, fic good. (Makes me wanna write an Ace Attorney choir fic, that’s my speciality)

The Miraculous Disappearance of Phoenix Wright by JJsADragon: Was on a road trip when I first read this and literally could NOT. STOP. READING. HAD ME GRIPPED. EDGE OF CARSEAT. The whole plot is basically a parody of "It's A Wonderful Life" where Phoenix ends up in a universe where he was never born. Which, as you can guess, causes a myriad of problems for the legal world and world in general. I had no idea where the plot was going, didn't know how it was going to end, and WAS TERRIFIED. But. I kept reading anyway. IT IS THAT GOOD.

Miles Edgeworth: The Ace Attorney by Charybdia: I SPENT AGES. AGES. Looking for a good, finished Ace Attorney roleswap fic. And when I found this one I STRUCK GOLD. SWEAR IT. Amazing, love this one. Still come back to it. IT’S GOT OBNOXIOUS THEATRE KID PHOENIX WRIGHT, HOW CAN I NOT LOVE IT? It also is accompanied by art Also, also, We get good friend Larry Butz. WHAT MORE COULD YOU ASK FOR?

Carpe Diem (make your lives extraordinary by Elysya): A high school Au featuring theater kid Phoenix, debate kid Miles and third wheel Larry. I loved this one. It’s also just super interesting. The developing relationship between Phoenix and Miles is one that I really like as they’re both messy teenagers and really gotta work out their flaws if they wanna be together.

Begone Dull Care by VivaRockSteady: A good Au fic surrounding patient Miles and nurse Phoenix. Goes into good detail about recovering from suicide and depression, and recovering from other mental health issues. Also check out some of the other fics by this writer. One is an Au of the Truman Show and the other is a Roman/Greek Au that I found incredibly interesting.

if you leave the light on by AngstinSpace: A very good fic. I was reading this one in my study hall and my teacher was playing calming piano music that was kinda sad/melancholic and I started tearing up in class because I was feeling all the emotions. Girl this is good, go read it.

I used to think people were good but now I just think they’re people by thebirdsandtheboxes: SEVERELY UNDERRATED. Super good and goes very in-depth into Phoenix’s disbarment period and how he and his friends and family react. Also has some good Asexual!Miles moments.

This man is not your boyfriend by its_ok_inside: AN AMAZING FIC CENTERING AROUND PHOENIX HAVING AMNESIA AND MILES HELPING HIM DEAL WITH IT. Hilarious. Super funny. I love it. Also is accompanied by some artwork. FUCK YEAH THIS FIC. A classic.

Surviving You by pantswarrior: I’m pretty sure this is an older fic that got moved, and it kinda shows that in its writing (Yk those fics that you can tell were written in the 2000s/early 2010s based on their vocabulary and thoughts on gay relationships? Kinda like that) but it’s good. Very good.

A False Start by theacegrace: A phenomenal fic centered around Bratworth!Miles meeting Feenie!Phoenix and Miles praying that Phoenix doesn’t get accused of murder when he sees Phoenix with Dahlia. Loved this one so much and came back to it a couple times.

Chicago Noel by canonlacrush: A classic. There used to be an Au a while back that everyone was obsessed with and it was a bakery/mafia Au. I wish there were more fics that catered to that Au but they’re hard to find. Anyway, this one is great.

Maybe In Time You’ll Want To Be Mine by YourAverageBystander: A time loop fic that I absolutely adore. Y’all really gotta key in on these Ace Attorney time loop/time travel fics, there’s a couple in here. THEY ARE A TREASURE.

Turnabout Sole by CollaboralDamage: An awesome bodyswap fic. DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO FIND BODY SWAP FIC IN THIS FANDOM?! And this one is good. Very good. Liked it a lot.

Shared Work Space by nerdyskeleton: I think the fic’s summary works best here “It was the best of times, it was the worst of time when Miles Edgeworth discovers he likes to be called Daddy”.

Shear Luck by TopazEstrella: One that I didn’t really know what to think of when I first kept seeing it on my search for Narumitsu fics, but I’m very glad I read it. It’s different, but I like it. Has some Krisnix in it.

The Illusion Of Control by Ekat: Amazing. Loved it. Takes place in an alternate universe where Miles died and Gregory didn’t. Has a lot of found family dynamics featuring Mr. Edgeworth, Phoenix and Ray.

Tight Lesh by Ensiy: I come back to this one often. One of the only fics that has good Kristoph and Miles interaction. They’re both catty bitches to each other. Has some Krisnix in it.

Out of Order by canolacrush: A super cute fic where Miles gets a haircut and Phoenix gets a crush. I re-read it a lot because it’s super cute and really fluffy.

With The Phases Of The Moon by Puddor: One I come back to often for a couple of moments. Really love it. One of the good Werewolf!Phoenix and Vampire!Miles fics.

You Ever Been In Love? by hechima: Loved this one a lot. We love the Wright gang trying to matchmake. A classic in terms of AA fics and for good reason.

Observe and Record by MAVEfm: An introspective Miles fic detailing him and his personal journal. I really like this one. Has some Krisnix in it.

Pressing Pursuit ~ Cornered by viviaciousbarkbeast: Love this one. I think this was one of the first AA fics I’ve read. Has some Krisnix in it.

That Man by Sunshine_And_Starlight: A really good fic. It has one of my favorite tropes and I come back to it for certain moments that I really like and wanna read again.

A Badge Of Honor by sunsmasher: Really loved this one. I also come back to re-read it cause it’s just so funny and awkward and hilarious.

Awkward Business by hechima: I’m a sucker for this trope! You’ll see what I mean when you read it. It’s all gold! I still come back to this one.

wait (they don’t love you like I love you) by Samioli: Super good fic detailing Miles finding out about all Phoenix’s past relationships.

parallelogram by zombiekittiez: Such a slay fic, has a strange premise at first BUT we get Shakespeare references so that’s a big plus.

All There Is by sunsmasher: Loved it. A really good look into Krisnix as a relationship and dealing with sexual trauma.

London, 2021 by syailendra: Has a lot of good moments. I come back to this one a lot. Has some Krisnix in it.

Sketched Memories by gen: LOVED THIS ONE. OBSESSED. You just gotta read it. It’s a recent one but VERY GOOD.

Archaeology by sunsmasher: Everyone eats pizza, and truamadumps. Just a typical day at the Wright Anything Agency.

Dancer In The Dark by klaviersimp: Ahhh, I love this fic a lot. It holds a special place in my heart. Little suggestive but I like it.

dig my nails into the wound by gavinnersworldtour: A very good Krisnix fic. Delicious. I love this one.

Temptation by crayoncompanion: An interesting one that I can’t help but really love.

Hot, Sticky, Sweet by mutxnts: A really good fic. I CRAVE a continuation but it’s a one-shot.

Sin. Eater by potatomin: A very good Demon!Miles and Angel!Phoenix fic. Makes you want more.

romance is not dead (if you keep it just yours) by Samioli: This one was just sweet. I liked it a lot.

just desserts by riskphee: YES. YES. Love this one. I still come back to read it.

Thrown Through A Loop by savitaraandsigh: Another time loop fic that I absolutely adore.

From The Top by lazynina: Another Time loop fic that I absolutely adore.

Bespoke by Demus: We love suit kinks.

That Goddamned Idiot That Is Phoenix Wright by fyrebyrd_fta

Kleptomania by Ekat

Working Hazard by lilacSkye

caught in the act by Samioli

I’ll Cover You by nerd4fandoms

my rapt heart by griffonage

Bad dream, good time by notlikelybutpossible

Series:

7 years under the bridge: A series surrounding Phoenix’s fall and his relationships with Miles and Kristoph respectively.

7 year ache: Another series surrounding Phoenix’s fall and his relationships with Miles and Kristoph respectively.

And that’s most of them! There’s definately more, but those are the ones that really made an impression on me and that I think about a lot (And also the ones I could find easily without having to check every one of my bookmarks) You can find more that way if you want though! By looking through my bookmarks on A3O that is. That’s what I do sometimes with other A3O members and it’s worked out well (Look for the Buddy Daddies fics in my bookmarks, that’s where most of them start but definitely check my bookmarks, there’s a couple good ones I can’t find at the moment that I know are in there). But I also recommend doing your own research too, it doesn’t seem like fun but when you end up finding one of the hidden gem fics it’s totally worth it.

Here’s some advice, buddy, try to start at the beginning, like go all the way down to the last folder on A3O, but maybe first search for an AA tag that you know will have a smaller fic pool and go from there. And when you find an author you like, try and check out if they have some other AA fics. Most of the writers of the fics I have recommended have more Ace Attorney fics in their arsenal that I’ve read and enjoyed and just didn’t wanna put on here, so check them out!

Btw Anon, if you want the more… Darker fics that I like (There aren’t many, but there’s a couple) DM me because I don’t wanna give those out publicly since it just makes me sorta uncomfy and I don’t want others to be uncomfy. This also goes for smuttier fics that I don’t feel like sharing at the moment.

Sorry if this was a lot Anon, I just love fanfiction, it’s definately one of the more interesting art forms out there, and think a lot of the ones I read deserve to be shared!

(Oh, also, I write fics too Anon. Check out my AA fic if you wanna. Sorry to self-promote but I promise it’s cute!!)

Anyway, that’s all! Goodnight everybody!

#ace attorney #Narumitsu #mitsunaru #Phoenix wright #miles Edgeworth #ace attorney fic rec #fic rec #kristoph gavin #Krisnix #Wrightworth #worthwright #edgewright #kirinaru #kriswright #ace attorney fic #Phoenix wright ace attorney #ace attorney fics

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