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rafey-baby · 7 months ago

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clumsy!reader is still bad at yoga and yoga instructor!rafe wants to keep her all to himself...

c/w: rafe being touchy & blatantly flirting w her, him getting jealous, slightly suggestive, reader being oblivious, 18+ mdni!

wc: 1.9k

idk if anyone missed him but he's back & better than ever !! (after a small vacation that ended up being almost 3 months :D)

some parts are more or less inspired by this, this, this & this ask

part 1

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Rafe is in the midst of helping someone fix their posture when he hears the gates of heaven opening in the form of a melodious giggle chiming from the back of the room. He lifts his head in order to detect the source of such a vibrant sound; noticing that his favorite client is currently directing her attention towards some guy next to her.

The joyful expression she’s sporting makes a scowl paint over his features. Why is this random man making her laugh like that?

“Yeah, you got it. Just keep workin’ on it though,” he quickly dismisses the person he was helping before stomping over to find her practically lying on the floor with the guy’s hands on her calf, along with his mat pulled far too close to hers for Rafe’s liking.

“I think you should bend it more here, right? I’m honestly not too sure,” the guy chuckles as he tries to figure out what she’s doing wrong.

“No cause I have no idea how everyone else makes it seem so easy. It’s so hard to get it right, I feel so stupid half the time,” she complains with a huff, not even noticing Rafe looming within earshot.

“Seriously, I thought this was a beginner’s class but it feels like some of these poses are meant for like literal pros,” he continues with a shake of his head.

“I know, right?” another peal of laughter bubbles from her throat as she shifts into a seated position, giving up altogether.

“Everything alright?” Rafe doesn’t mean for his tone to come out so clipped but there’s something in the way the guy’s touching her so freely that makes his hands curl into fists.

He keeps reminding himself over and over again that this is a client, which means that he can’t just smash his face in— no matter how severely his fingers are itching for it right about now.

“Oh, I was just trying to help her with this,” the guy explains in tandem with her head turning to look at Rafe. She seems startled.

“Well, why don’t you focus on your own form for a change? I mean, s’kinda my job to help her, yeah?” he scoffs, making the guy halt his movements in a state of surprise before he's lifting his hands up in apology.

“Damn, sorry dude,” he mutters out from under his breath while Rafe merely glares at him with the words stay professional bouncing around his skull.

A tense silence follows, making her grow quiet while she takes slow sips from her water bottle as a distraction; wondering why he seems so bothered to see her talking to someone else.

However, when he finally turns his attention towards her, she shrugs it off as him merely having a bad day because it seems like the only logical explanation to her. Because at the end of the day, him being jealous makes as much sense to her as her math homework in high school.

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

Rafe is convinced that the universe is purposefully trying to poke and prod at his limits, giving his carefully curated facade opportunities to crack— allowing for the borderline psychotic aspects of his personality to breathe through the crevices. Because only a week later, Rafe sees her entering the gym with another guy she seems to be awfully friendly with.

“That’s crazy, I don’t even wanna know what Kie said to that,” she rolls her eyes jokingly while he’s showing her something on his phone.

”Yeeeah, guess you could say she wasn’t the biggest fan,” he laughs in a carefree manner, raking a hand through his disheveled, sand-colored hair.

“For some reason I’m not surprised,” she mutters out before she notices Rafe standing in the hallway leading to the yoga class. “Oh, gotta go so I’m not late. See you after?”

“Yeah, I’ll be here. Think Pope said he’s gonna join me for leg day, so we’ll see if I’m still standing when you get back. But you have fun,” he offers her a wave before walking away towards the locker rooms.

And at last, her warm eyes meet Rafe’s. “Hi,” her voice is soft, nearly shy; a stark contrast to her demeanor only a few seconds ago.

“Hey,” he greets her in a casual manner, although his mind is somewhere else entirely. “So, that your boyfriend or?” he tries to approach the subject with nonchalance because it’s not necessarily any of his business.

He’s not even sure why he’s asking— keeps telling himself that he’s just curious and tries to appear friendly by making small talk. After all, some clients have given him feedback on his apparently intimidating aura, claiming they don’t always have the courage to ask for his help because they get anxious he’ll judge them. Therefore, it's something he’s been trying to work on.

“What? Oh, JJ? No, he’s just a friend. He goes to the gym here, so I usually just tag along with him. Free ride, right?” she answers with a lighthearted tone.

“Right. Yeah,” he scratches at the back of his neck, contemplating whether or not to ask the next question since he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries. However, there’s something deep in his stomach that grumbles at the prospect of her being in a relationship, makes him feel nearly insane and ultimately, makes the decision for him.

“You, uh, you got one?”

“What?” she asks, features coated in confusion.

“A boyfriend, I mean,” his gaze is unwavering, eager.

“Oh, um— no, I don’t. Why?” her puzzled eyes flit over the lines of his countenance, seemingly trying to grasp onto his motives.

“Just, uh…wondering. I mean, he’d be kind of a dick if he’s not drivin’ you here himself,” he shrugs, a strange sort of relief making his shoulders feather-light when she lets out an airy giggle in response.

“Yeah, honestly sometimes wish I had one just so he could drive me around and stuff,” she jokes while they begin to pad over to the class.

“You don’t have your license yet?” he raises his brows in surprise.

“No, I do. I just don’t really like driving. I don’t know why but it’s so stressful to me. Usually try to avoid it as much as I can,” she elaborates while gathering her hair away from her face and securing the strands into a ponytail.

“Oh yeah? Well, if you ever need a ride home just let me know, alright?” he says, fighting the urge to tuck a loose tendril that has managed to escape the restraints of her hair tie back behind her ear.

“Really? That’s so sweet of you! But, um, wouldn’t wanna be a bother,” the hesitation is present in her voice.

“Nah, couldn’t bother me if you tried,” he promises, wishing they could talk for longer. However, the ocean of people flooding inside the room behind them cuts their conversation short.

“You’re just saying that,” she dismisses him with a playful scoff.

“M’being for real. You’re my favorite face around here. Plus, makes my job more fun when you’re always stumblin' on your feet,” he can’t help his mouth from twisting upwards at the way her eyes round out in response to his words.

“Shut up. I’m gonna go set down my mat now, before there’s only space right in front of you,” she offers him a giddy smile that makes him grin like an idiot. Then, she’s tiptoeing away from him in order to locate a vacant spot.

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

Rafe has become awfully familiar with these newfound feelings of fondness for the girl who’s by far the most helpless little bambi he’s ever encountered. He thinks she should honestly pick another hobby at this point, because maybe yoga just isn’t meant for her. However, he’d never say any of that out loud because even the thought of not seeing her getting all flustered while she loses her balance whenever he’s near makes him feel physically unwell.

He’s not entirely sure whether her apparently oblivious brain simply hasn’t caught onto the fact that he so clearly has a thing for her, or if she’s well aware and merely chooses to be a tease about it. Nonetheless, the moment she walked into the class today, he could feel his workout shorts tightening and all she’d offered him was a simple smile.

And now she’s right in front of him, all tangled limbs and pretty eyes blinking up at him— practically begging for his guidance and for him to put his hands all over her (something she doesn’t seem to mind all that much).

“You put this cute little set on just for me, huh?” he rasps out while his thumb smooths over the bubblegum pink fabric; feeling it out as he pinches the stretchy fabric between his fingertips, making her breath get caught in her throat in the process.

“Oh, um— just wanted to…try out some new stuff I ordered. You think it’s cute?” she stares at him with something bashful glimmering in her eyes.

“Mhm. Fits you nice,” he mumbles out as his gaze lingers on the way the tight material wraps around her figure, not leaving much to the (his) imagination. He bets it’d be so easy to just rip right through these cute yoga pants and pull her closer with a firm grip on her hips before burying his face between her plush thighs.

“Thanks,” she peeps out, flustered.

He tries to shake off the improper, filthy thoughts with a clear of his throat when he gets caught staring at her for a little too long.

“So, you actually wanna bend your leg on the other side of your body on the mat and support your foot with your left arm not the right one. Easy to get them confused,” he chuckles as she shifts her position according to his instructions as best as she can.

“Like this?” she seeks reassurance with a soft tone.

“Yeah, just like that, Bambi. Good job,” his mouth quirks up some while her mind begins to cloud over in response to his low cadence. She’s not entirely sure what exactly it is about him that makes her feel so fuzzy on the inside, but she thinks it’s nice, thinks she wants to always have him this close to her— wants him even closer.

She doesn’t remember the last time she’s had such an intense crush on someone— slowly turning into a crazy person by each second of not knowing whether he’s merely flirting with her for his own amusement or because he’s actually into her. However, she thinks she’s embarrassed herself in front of him far too many times for the latter to be true in any reality.

“Then need you to move your right hand here,” he adjusts her form with a grip on her wrist while he maneuvers her to his liking; tingles erupting all over the skin he skims over with his fingertips.

Her head is spinning.

“See? Knew you could do it. Feels nice, hm?” he rumbles out, letting his hands rest on her shoulders for support, despite the position not really requiring it.

She hums her response because she doesn’t trust for any coherent words to stumble out of her mouth at the moment, all the while Rafe is desperately trying to not pay attention to the nearly painful situation in his pants.

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digilearnteach · 2 years ago

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skzdarlings · 1 year ago

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Chan with ❛ that really does make you hard. i can feel you pulsing inside me. ❜

summary: your husband is a university professor. when you sit in on one of his lectures, it gives both of you an idea...

pairing: bang chan/reader content info: husband!chan, kinky professor/student roleplay, though reader is his wife and not actually a student. dom!chan, sub!reader, degrading language (stupid, dumb, slut). corruption kink, power dynamics kink. explicit sexual content. word count: 2380 words.

part of the valentine's day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy! <3

Chan is giving a lecture when you reach the university. You kill some time and grab a coffee, ambling around campus and idling in corridors until your wandering leads you to his hall. The main doors are propped open, likely for air circulation with the spring heat, and you smile at his voice spilling into the hallway.

It is a big lecture hall. He is teaching a beginner level so the class is substantially large, a couple hundred freshman packed inside. No one will notice an extra presence. There are a few empty seats scattered across the back row so you slip inside and quietly take one.

You like seeing Chan in his element. Your husband is something of a chameleon, spending his down time in hoodies and baseball caps, listening to music and giggling at his own goofy jokes. You almost forget his professional side, his prestigious and academic character. He loves his research and his work and his students and it shows in every remark and gesticulation.

You adore him. His passion and intelligence never cease to amaze you.

Though right now your loving attention strays to his appearance. You must admit: your husband is a hottie. You suspect the tittering co-eds in the first few rows are not as interested in statistical analysis as their rapt attention might suggest.

Professor Bang Chan stands at the front of the hall, dressed down to his shirtsleeves. His suit jacket has been tossed over the desk. His pants are pressed, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, but his neat black hair is just this side of dishevelled, like he has been running his fingers through it.

You slouch in your seat and smile a cheesy smile as you watch him work.

He looks around the hall as he lectures, attentive to every student. In his perusal, his eyes skim the back row. They stop on you.

“And that’s why we, uh, ah…” He stumbles so noticeably that a few heads turn to see what caught his eye. He laughs and waves, drawing their attention again. “Sorry, sorry, as I was saying…”

Your smile only widens. There is a little flutter in your heart as your husband looks at you with a glimmer in his eye. You rest your head on your fist and watch the rest of the lecture without any interruption.

You stay seated when it ends and the students file out. Chan lingers by his desk to sort his papers. You just admire him for a moment, then you make your way down the aisle. He lifts his head, smiling at you.

“Hey, stranger,” he says, shrugging on his jacket. “You’re early.”

“Yeah, I thought traffic would be worse.”

“Hungry?”

“Definitely, Professor,” you say. Your original plans were dinner, but you lift an eyebrow while smirking, suggesting a different kind of hunger entirely.

It makes him laugh, a nervous sort of laugh. You are charmed by the tips of his ears turning red, a testament to your ability to fluster your man well into your marriage.

“What’s wrong, Professor?” you ask, reaching up to touch his face. “Aren’t you hungry too?”

He stares back at you for a moment. His gaze is resolute despite his faint blush. You cannot help your delight.

“Ooh,” you say. “Do you like it when I call you Professor, Professor?”

He finally takes your hand and lowers it.

“I’m a professional,” is what he says, which is definitely not an answer to the question you asked. He kisses your cheek before you can protest his reply, then he winks and grabs his bag. “Come on,” he says, “I just have to put some stuff in my office. Then we’ll go grab dinner.”

You suspend your teasing for the time being, talking about your day as you cross campus in the sunshine. You take the stairs up to the office floor, winding around the labyrinthine assembly of empty offices. It is quite late in the afternoon, plenty of people seemingly packed up and gone for the day.

He unlocks his office and lets you both in. While he goes to his desk to sort his stuff, you close and lock the door. He does not notice your deliberate movements, still talking about mundane nothings. You do love your endless conversations, whether casual or important, but right now you are less preoccupied with Channie than Professor Chan. There is something about seeing your husband like this, smart, competent, confident, and so in charge of his space.

“Baby girl?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow at your slow, slinky approach. “What’s up?”

You circle the desk and lay a hand on his chest, smoothing your palm down his lapel. You swear his eyes somehow darken, narrowing in focus, his whole expression coloured differently than before.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I know you’re married, Professor,” you say, blinking oh-so innocently at him. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable… it’s just that I… I need…”

He lets you nudge him back onto the desk chair behind him. He gazes up as you lean over him.

“Baby,” he says, warningly, but does not move or push your hands away.

“We’re all alone, Professor,” you say. “The door is locked. No one will ever find out.”

“Ah. Is that right?” he asks, looking like he is on the verge of giggles. He sighs instead, dropping his chin and shaking his head, playfully disappointed. With another breath, he lifts his head, and your sweet husband dons a more predatory air.

He does not even have to say anything, does not even have to touch you. He just has to look at you with all that desire in his eyes, turning your insides molten. Every dirty thought is plain in how he checks you out.

“I saw you looking at me in class today,” you say, breathless already. “Did you think I looked pretty, Professor?”

“I think,” he says, “I was impressed you were sitting there, actually listening for once.”

You open your mouth to retort, but he touches a shushing finger to your lips. He shakes his head.

“Nuh-uh,” he says. “Tell me what you want before I throw you out of my office.” He cups your jaw, his gaze so clearly centred on your lips.

“Oh, please, don’t do that,” you say. “I need you, Professor. I mean, I need your help.”

“I think you’re beyond help, baby girl,” he says. He momentarily breaks character to glance at the wall, then he looks at you with a quirked brow. “We are at my work, maybe we should—”

“I know you,” you reply.

Because you do. You and your husband are no strangers to roleplay or kinky fun, your desires and boundaries and safewords known. Your backside is still tender from a good spanking the night before, just enough to leave you squirming today. You were pent-up before you even saw Professor Chan administering his lecture. But now that you have, now that you are here, you cannot let it go. And given the way he is looking at you, he feels the same way.

“You’ve been hard since I called you Professor in the lecture hall,” you say.

“Since I saw you sitting in my classroom, actually,” he corrects. “I could fill in the rest with my own imagination. Just… looking at you…” He takes another breath and looks you over. His gaze is heady. “God, you just get me going every time, you know that?”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” you say with another smirk. Then you pout, batting your eyelashes, as you sink to your knees in front of him. “Please, Professor,” you say. “I’m begging you. I need a good grade or else. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything,” he says. “That’s, ah… that’s a bold statement. Are you sure about that?”

“Of course I am,” you say. You clasp your hands. “Anything at all.”

“You know, a man who is not as nice me could do bad things to you, baby. A pretty girl like you. It’s like you want someone to take advantage of you, yeah?” He cups your jaw and tilts your face up, looking at your mouth thoughtfully, smiling as he circles his thumb over your lips. “They could be really mean to you,” he says. “Make you do things you don’t like. Maybe even hurt you, baby.”

“But you wouldn’t do those things,” you say with a watery sniffle. “You’re a good professor. I can trust you.”

“Of course you can,” he says. With his thumb, he tugs your bottom lip down. It flips back up with a bounce. “I’ll help you then, if you do what I say.”

“Oh yes, of course, Professor, anything,” you say. You start to stand when he puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Naw, naw,” he says. “You stay there for me.”

“On my knees?” You blink up at him. “What for?”

“Tsk. Baby. You know what for.” He pats your head like he would an especially dumb puppy. “You’re just a pretty face,” he says, “but you’re not that stupid. You know what you’re good for at least, don’t you?”

He cups your chin. Before you can reply, his thumb is forcing its way into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. You wrap your lips around it, staring up at him while sucking diligently.

“That’s it,” he says, and slides free with a wet little pop. “Good job. See?” He speaks with saccharine sweetness, completely condescending as he pats your cheek. “You are good at something.” He unbuttons your shirt with deft swiftness, your breasts already heaving in your low-cut bra when he pushes the material off your shoulders. He laughs to himself as he says, “It’s just the only thing you’re good at is being a dumb slut, but that’s okay, yeah?”

“I… I guess…”

“Shh, it’s okay.” He covers you whole mouth with his hand, tugging you close while he undoes his belt with the other. “You don’t need to talk,” he says. “No one needs to hear what you think. Open your mouth for me. That’s a good girl. Come on. You can take it.”

With a shuffle, he gets his pants open and partially down, enough to get himself out. He is already rock hard as he guides you forward, sliding into your waiting mouth. He grunts with deep, obvious pleasure.

He lets you take over, sitting back while you suck his cock with expert knowledge of exactly what he likes, when to take him deep, when to lick and suck and swallow. You stop for a breath and his cock smacks your cheek. Then suddenly he is standing and taking you with him, wasting no time bending you over his desk.

“Professor!” you say, pushing your ass out with your theatrically scandalized cry. “Oh no, sir, I’ve never done this before, please, ahh—”

He lifts your skirt and tugs your panties to the side, sliding his fingers through all the wet arousal there. He slides two fingers into you easily, with no resistance at all. He leans down and laughs against the nape of your neck.

“I find that hard to believe,” he says, fucking you steadily with his hand. “I think I’m not the only professor you’ve done this for, am I, baby?”

“Ohh,” is all you manage, out of character and genuinely moaning as he works you towards a quick orgasm. “Channie, you’re gonna make me come,” you warn, wriggling.

Your moans turn to pathetic little whimpers when he wraps a strong arm around you, locking you in place as he lines up behind you.

“What’s that?” he asks, holding you tight. It stops you from writhing while he pushes his wet dick inside you, inch by slow inch. “I’m not Channie, am I?” he says. “What do you call me? Huh? Dumb little girl.” He swats your ass and you yelp, clenching around him. “Try again,” he says.

“Oh, Professor,” you say. Then you cannot help but giggle, recalling his evasion when you teased him in the lecture hall. The evidence of his desire says it all. “That really does make you hard,” you laugh, breathlessly, “I can feel you pulsing inside me.”

You squeak when he pushes you down onto the desk, holding your hips as he thrusts into you with more vigour. Then you are not saying anything, just moaning and riding out every quick snap of his hips. You are not sure how he manages to find the softest, squishiest, more sensitive place inside you, every time, no matter the place or position, sending you hurtling towards to an orgasm at breakneck speed.

“Oh, help, Professor, I’m gonna—”

“Me too, baby,” he says. “All inside you.”

“Ohh, fuck—” You come with a shuddering convulsion, twitching and clenching, your eyes closed as you pant into the wooden surface of his desk. Your orgasm ends and he is still fucking you, drawing it out. Your voice is guttural, low and breathy as you say, “Professor, be careful, we have no protection…”

He lifts you up, arches your back, and covers your mouth.

“I… told… you…” He punctuates each sound with a hard thrust. “To… be… quiet…”

Then he drives into you and stays there, groaning into your neck as he comes and comes. When his hand drops, you take in a gulp of air, shivering from the aftershocks of pleasure. You are spilling out of your bra from all the jostling, your skirt in disarray. You whimper when he pulls out of you, then again when he just covers you back up with your panties. They are soaked in a second.

“Maybe, uh,” he says with one of his funny, embarrassed, little giggles. “Maybe we should stop by home and clean up before we go for dinner.”

You giggle too, turning around to face him. You fix your shirt while he tucks himself back into his pants. He is already blushing and smiling that dimpled smile, looking all sweet and goofy as if he didn’t just fuck your brains out on his desk.

“Good idea,” you say. “That’s why you’re the professor.”

He laughs. Looking at you fondly, he cups your cheek and pulls you in for a long, tender kiss.

#bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #chan x reader #chan smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #bang chan x you #skz x you #kpop fanfiction #valentinesdaystories #stilestotherescue

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aliice-hellen · 2 days ago

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This post is one of the parts of a guide for beginners, and new helpols!

Right now I will talk about one of the most important yet difficult things to decide: how do you choose a God/Goddess to worship?

We will meet the Twelve Olympians in this post, but I need to make a little precision first!

The Gods we all know more are the famous “Twelve of Olympus” but among them there is a difference: Ouranic and Chthonic.

Ouranic (οὐράνιοι – “of the sky/heavens”): These are the sky-aligned, upper-world gods, like the Olympians.

They are associated with light, order, life, growth, justice, protection, and public worship.

Offerings were and are usually burned, given in the morning or daytime

Libations are poured upward or into a fire

Worship is facing upward or toward an altar

Praying hands are facing the sky

Altars are usually raised

Examples of Ouranic Gods: Zeus, Hera, Apollon, Athena, Hermes (in his Olympian role or else he could be also Chthonic), etc.

Chthonic (χθόνιοι – “of the earth/underworld”): These are the earth-aligned, underworld gods and spirits.

They are tied to death, fate, mystery, ancestors, spirits, silence, transformation.

Offerings were buried or poured into the ground

Libations go downward

Worship usually happens at night

Praying hands facing the ground

Altars are low, close to the ground or pits

Examples of Chthonic Gods: Hades, Persephone, Hekate (in her chthonic aspect), Thanatos, the Erinyes, spirits of the dead.

Some Gods are liminal: they move between both realms. Like for example Hermes or Dionysus.

Who are the Olympians?

The Twelve Olympians (or Dodekatheon) are the best-known deities in Hellenism. They’re the gods of Olympus (high, luminous) and were widely honored in public worship across the Greek world.

They include:

Zeus – “King of the gods”, sky and weather (thunder, lightning, rain), kingships and rule, law, order, justice, oaths, governance, hospitality.

Hera – “Queen of the gods”, marriage and sacred union, Queenship and regality, divine law and family order, protection of women, fertility within the bounds of lawful marriage.

Poseidon – Oceans and seas, arthquakes (called the “Earth-shaker”), horses and horse taming, storms at sea, harbor protection, sailors, seafarers, and islanders, earth and fertility (older cult aspect)

Demeter – Agriculture and cultivated land, grain and cereal crops, fertility of the earth, sacred law and the rhythms of life, protection of marriage and rural communities.

Athena – Wisdom and intellect, strategic warfare (as opposed to Ares' brute force), crafts and weaving, protection of cities, laws and justice, rational thought and fair judgment.

Apollon – The sun and light, prophecy and oracles (especially Delphi), healing and medicine, music, poetry, and the lyre, archery, plagues and purification, reason, order, and harmony, youth and male beauty, shepherds.

Artemis – The wilderness and untamed nature; The hunt and wild animals: virginity, chastity, and protection of women; childbirth and midwifery (as protector of mothers and infants); The moon (in later syncretism); Young maidens and transitions into womanhood; Protection of children and purification

Ares – War and battle (particularly chaotic and bloodthirsty war, unlike Athena’s strategic warfare); physical aggression, rage, bloodlust; courage, violence, and masculine strength; warriors and soldiers; destruction and conquest; rebellion, impulse, and raw desire and fatherhood.

Aphrodite – Love (romantic and erotic); beauty and aesthetics; fertility and procreation; sensual pleasure and desire; attraction, charm, and seduction; marriage and union; the generative forces of life; sea travel and sailors (in some cults)

Hephaistos – Fire; metalworking and metallurgy; blacksmithing and artisanship; sculpture, invention, and design, craft and mechanical ingenuity, technology, and forges; volcanic activity; laborers and working-class people;

Hermes – Travel and roads; boundaries and transitions; messengers and communication; commerce, merchants, markets; thieves, trickery, and wit; luck and fortune, language and writing; herds and shepherds; gymnasiums and athletes; soul-guidance (psychopomp — guide of souls to the Underworld); initiations and liminal states.

Dionysus – Wine and grape cultivation; fertility and nature’s renewal; theater and performance; ecstasy and divine madness; mysticism and altered states; death and rebirth; liberation from social norms; initiation rites and sacred frenzy (Maenadism, Bacchic rites)

Some older traditions include Hestia, goddess of the hearth, instead of Dionysus. In a myth she gives the throne to Dionysus, showing her kindness and peaceful demeanor. Many modern practitioners honor all thirteen.

“Which God do I choose?”

When you’re just stepping into Hellenism, one of the first questions that hits is:

“There are so many gods. who do I begin with?!”

The real answer is that there is not any rule! I need to say that the tradition of choosing a God to worship comes from the influence of Christianity. Ancient Greeks worshipped mostly every God and Goddess.

And personally as a “Reconstructionist” I prefer to do it as the Greeks.

But surely its difficult! And not even I sometimes can do it like I want! So you dont EVER need to push yourself through something you dont want or dont feel like doing.

So how do you choose? I would advice to start reading about every God, specially if you dont know much about Greek Gods and mythology in general. Like I said earlier, the Gods you can worship are not only the Olympians, they are many: Gods, Titans, Spirits etc.

Once you read about some Gods, choose the one who you feel a connection to or you are more interested to.

I want to specify that its normal if you dont feel much attraction at first, or you dont achieve how much you want to worship! Its completely normal if you feel overwhelmed or you cant do what you want to do!

I say to give it time, it doesn’t matter the quantity but the quality. Worship also once a week or more, if you feel like you cant do much! The Gods WONT be mad.

“How do I begin to worship?”

I’ll give you a simple example.

The Olympians are a great place to begin, especially if you’re building a home practice. Here’s a simple structure you can use to begin forming relationships:

Each day (or each time you worship):

Cleanse your hands (khernips)

Light a candle or incense

Say something simple like: “Great Olympians, I honor you with respect and kharis. May you watch over my home and life. May my offerings be accepted.”

Pour water or offer food, flowers, or olive oil

Speak freely to the god(s) you feel drawn to.

No pressure. No perfection needed. Just presence and sincerity.

Also you don’t need a dream or a voice to confirm Their presence. You don’t even need to “feel something” every time.

The gods are bigger than feelings, and their relationships are built in slow, sacred time.

I hope I explained all well! I’m always up to questions! 💛

#hellenic worship #hellenic deities #hellenic pagan #hellenic polytheism #hellenism #paganism #pagan #helpol #new helpol #newbie #hellenic gods #twelve olympians

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theealbatross · 1 month ago

Text

Plot | They're no longer friends but unfortunately they're still soulmates.

or, Sebastian stands at a crossroads -- to get everything he wants or to get the one he loves. One choice is a mistake.

Read Part I: a habit to kick, an age old curse

Tags | angst, heartbreak, (i swear to god there will be a happy ending), when you get everything you want at a cost, emotional cheating (boy is indecisive), traumatized teenagers being stupid, low self esteem, self-sacrificing idiots in love, underaged drinking, everybody is depressed and angry and hates proper communication

[A/N: I PROMISE THERE WILL BE A HAPPY ENDING! I JSUT NEEDED TO GET THIS ANGST TRAIN GOING!!! Also I stole from a trend on tiktok so don't sue me. Stream 'we hug now' by sydney rose for full immersion. None of the photos are mine! Except the last one that's my screenshot lol]

If there is one thing that can unite the entirety of the Hogwarts student body full of such brilliantly clashing natures, it would be the Triwizard Championship. A sense of only-we-can-call-our-siblings-dickwads protectiveness sprouting on each student, even if they may deny it with a wand aimed at their jugulars.

But if there was something that can squash all that school pride and camaraderie to pieces it would be the tacit competition of finding a partner for the Yule Ball.

To be frank, there are only so much eligible bachelors or bachelorettes before you start settling.

Sebastian was going to skip that part of the ball all-together if it wasn’t for the fact that he was (a) the Hogwarts Champion (no thanks to Garreth ‘cmon-don’t-be-a-wuss-it’s-not-like-you’re-gonna-get-picked’ Weasley) and (b) his girlfriend would be properly pissed if he didn’t ask.

It wasn’t too bad, really. Even if he didn’t win, it would still be a leg up against his numerous competitors for a space in the Auror Programme to be able to represent his school in such a distinguished competition.

He just hates the frivolity of it all – that all eyes will be on him. Prodding, uncomfortable, and unwelcomed.

A noise from behind him breaks his bitter thoughts.

Ah, but such a delightful disruption.

“Aren’t you lovely,” he muttered as Krista descended the Grand staircase, offering his outstretched hand with a smile.

“And you look dashing, Sebastian,” she giggled, standing on the tip of her toes to place a kiss on his jaw, quickly wiping the transferred stain away with her thumb.

“Shall we?” he lets her wrap her hands on his arms before leading her to the direction of the Grand Hall.

Krista Vale was a welcome surprise at the beginner of the term, a shy Gryffindor (an oxymoron he was endlessly confused by) that sent him a charmed letter to meet him after class only to boldly ask him out in the crowded hallway outside of Charms Class (there’s that Gryffindor Gall he was expecting).

In his utter astonishment (is one of the most popular girls in Year 6 asking him out?), confusion (Why!? Imelda graciously asked for him), and embarrassment (Great Merlin, everyone is staring!) he had nodded and it was a done deal.

She was a genuine breath of fresh air – beautiful, smart, and charming enough to be appealing but not aggravating. A clean slate to stack his prospects with. And if he was being truly honest, enchanting Krista Vane was just the right kind of beautiful and perfect to entice him to finally take the next step out of his social slump.

Ideally.

“Who are you looking for?”

“Huh?” he turned to be greeted by her sweet, confused face.

She smiled, cocking her head in inquiry, “Your heads been turning like Wicker for the past five minutes. Are you waiting for someone?”

No, he wasn’t. He wasn’t looking or waiting for anyone. And he definitely wasn’t cranking his head to an unholy degree like her owl likes to do just to freak him out when sending him her messages.

“I … I’m sorry I’m a bit distracted,” he lies, she doesn’t see through it. (She never does, it might just be a blessing.) “Just nervous, I’m not too good with crowds. Not usually the center of attention.”

“I find that hard to believe,” she playfully nudges his side. “It isn’t like you to be overshadowed at all.”

It was moments like these – passing words and mindless innocent quips – that Sebastian remembers how separated she was of his past life. A life where he basked in the shadow, in her magnanimous, all-powerful, kindly shadow – plenty happy to cheer on as she uncomfortably fidgets in the light, reveling in the moments that she looks back at him. (Always at him, only at him.)

He gives his girlfriend a small smile, gripping the hand on his arm tighter as if it were an anchor that prevents him from being swept away by his rushing thoughts, he hoped to bury. “You’d be surprised.”

A perfect, pretty, polished slate. He tries not to let the bitter bile in his throat rise.

The two of them fall in line, the gates open.

Sebastian turns one last time.

“I’m gonna get us a drink,” he whispers to her, letting her group of friends drown her in girlish whispers and giggles as he left. Clearly, desperate to talk about him and her relationship with a Senior. He uses it to his advantage to get away.

He tries to complete his role as the perfect boyfriend, even turning at the ideal moment to wave one last time at her before he sought out Garreth, clocking the ginger on the other edge of the room.

“Give that to me or I’m telling Imelda.”

“A please would’ve sufficed, mate,” Garreth snarled, passing on his punch to Sebastian. The taste of the strong whiskey burning his throat as he threw it down his throat in a gulp. “You alright?”

Sebastian shook his head, blinking slow and hard.

It wouldn’t be right to dump on him on this festive night that Sebastian thinks he’s losing his bloody mind. “I’m bored.”

It wasn’t anything serious.

He’s just so fucking bored. Bored and tired and bitter.

The conversations are boring, he’s grown tired of feeling like he’s playing a character he doesn’t even fucking recognize, and the horrible recognition of the growing bitter resentment he has of the one girl who saw the good in him just because she couldn’t see the bad that he was hiding (like she could, like she always would) was unfair to her and suffocating for him.

And he couldn’t fucking find you.

“Hey, Sebastian, if you’re not – I’ll call Ominis –”

Sebastian grabs Garreth arms harshly, effortlessly stopping his tracks. “Don’t – I’m fine – just … needed a break. Don’t tell Ominis.”

“Don’t tell Ominis what?” Ominis asks.

Fuck.

“Fuck! You scared me, Gaunt.”

Thank you, Garreth.

Ominis raised a brow, cocking his head as a silent command to follow. Garreth raised his hands in surrender, taking a step back before quickly bolting away (traitor) from the two as Sebastian followed his old … friend? Acquaintance? He’s still not sure. He wasn’t forgiven yet, but Ominis had implied his willingness to work on the shredded pieces of their friendship in his letter last summer on some conditions.

One of those is that there shall be no more secrets between the two of them upon further notice.

When they were in a nook outside the large enchanted ballroom, Ominis planted his cane to the ground resolutely. Sebastian took a deep breath before standing a safe distance from him, the beautiful sparkling reflection of the black lake giving no comfort to the tense situation.

Please don’t ask. Please don’t ask. Please don’t ask.

“Don’t make me ask.”

Fuuuu –

“Thank you for escorting me here, Sebastian. I had fun.”

Sebastian smiles, bending down to accept the grateful kiss but turning his head sideways so it lands on his cheeks. He knows that she’s noticing his uncharacteristically detached behavior but it just didn’t feel right.

Not tonight.

Not when his mind is running a hundred miles per second after such a productive conversation with Ominis.

“I … It’s getting to me.”

“What is? The competition?” Ominis side-eyed him in disbelief. Both of them knew Sebastian wasn’t the type to get overwhelmed by a mere contest. He never backs down from a fight. Unfortunately, Ominis would’ve added but in the middle of his friend’s meltdown didn’t seem the best time to say it.

“The competition, the – the sudden spin on my reputation that I didn’t fucking ask for, all this peacocking – it isn’t … me.”

“A good repute isn’t exactly the end of the world, Sebastian,” Ominis goaded, clearly poking on the holes of his reasoning to figure out the truth.

“It’s not that,” Sebastian snaps, nearly hissing, as he paces in short strides to try to translate his jumbled frustrations into words.

“Do you have any idea how bloody eerie it is that all these people look at me with such … awe and pride.” Even the thought of it makes him sick.

Ominis huffs at an impatient breath.

“Don’t you dare,” he points a finger. “You don’t get to act like I’m being unreasonable when I can barely recognize myself anymore! When it feels like I may have accidentally sealed myself in a role of some hero when I’m not. We both know I’m not.”

He wasn’t the hero. That was your job.

But you weren’t here – barely anywhere anymore. You aren’t here in the ballroom, or in the Great Hall, or even in the classes you both share.

It makes his skin itch, the back of his neck tingling – screaming at him that’s something is wrong but he no longer has the right nor the resources to find out what.

“You’re letting your guilt eat you up now? Why? Because the old you were so much better?” It stung, hearing how his old friend much preferred this charade over who he truly was. But Sebastian couldn’t blame him too much – he did earn every ounce of his resentment.

In Ominis' eyes, everything was going according to plan. And he cares not if Sebastian buckles under its weight, just like Sebastian didn't care when he trampled all over his oldest friend's trust.

“A false hero is so much better than the truth. And we both know that.”

“My pleasure,” he forced a smile to ease her, waving goodbye as she hesitantly looks back at him until he gently shooed her into her waiting friends. “Have a good night.”

The thud echoes off the empty wooden landing, the giant eagle glaring at him. It makes him edgy.

Though his uneasiness had less to do with how quiet the Ravenclaw Tower was and more to do with the fact that he rarely ventures to this part of the castle. The unfamiliarity, coupled with the less-than-pleasing thoughts from newfound information in his mind, wasn’t exactly a combination for comfort.

“I asked to be her partner, she didn’t want to come.”

He frowns. “Oh yeah? How’d that work out with William Frey?”

Ominis head snapped to his friend. “You’re kidding,” Sebastian blinks in attention. “They broke up over Christmas break. It’s why Frey is so persistent in crushing the Slytherins before we graduate. Sebastian, did you seriously – where has your mind been for the past months?”

… what?

What?!

Sebastian scours his mind if he has seen the two of them together at all this month. He had been so persistent in not crossing her path, turning his head the moment her name was uttered, that it must have escaped him completely.

“And here I thought you’ve truly turned a new leaf completely.”

Sebastian frowns, offended. “What the hell does that mean?”

Ominis purses his lips, hesitant and an uncharacteristically pitiful expression on his face. “Sebastian, there’s something you must know. I heard –”

“Sebastian!”

Both boys jumped in surprise, the instinct of a gentleman to always greet a lady properly standing up and the guilt of their topic had both of them comically frazzled. “I was looking everywhere for you!”

If Ominis could see he would definitely be staring daggers at his friend.

“Oh my, did they already run out of drinks?”

Oh. Right. The drinks. Ominis cleared his throat to snap him out of it. Krista seemed to have caught on to the tension between the two Slytherins and smiled the same sweet smile that was the usual balm to his gashing wounds – temporary but welcome.

“It’s okay, I was getting tired anyway. My friend invited me for a sleepover in Ravenclaw Tower,” she smiled sweetly. “Escort me?”

Ominis and Sebastian share a look. This conversation wasn’t over.

Sebastian offered his arm. He tries not to flinch.

The Blank Wall mocks him as he rounds the corner, a sliver of light from the nearest lantern slicing through it.

Maybe, there was another reason why he hadn’t returned here in a while bitter one-sided rivalry with a certain Quidditch Captain aside.

His eyes flicks on one end of the dim hallway to the other, sure that in any moment she would round the corner too, waving at him in glee, soft apologies spilling in her mouth for being late (Again, he’d fondly chastise). A smile slips out of his face at the fond memory.

Perhaps, it was in one of your treks here that you’d crossed paths with Frey. Sebastian chases the thought away.

He steps closer to the walls, phantom threads pulling him in.

Are you in here? Are you well? Is your heart broken? (Should he hex William after all?)

His fingers touch the stone, his ears press into the ridig wall. It feels alive, somehow, beating a familiar rhythm.

Would you let me in?

A door opens, he falls in.

“Se …”

The familiar voice falters, the two of you staring at each other like preys falling straight into a lion’s den – though this time Sebastian’s unsure if he was the lion or the deer.

You were clearly as bewildered as him. You face a mixture of disbelief, horror, and bafflement at the scene in front of you.

“Sebastian?”

It’s uncanny hearing his name from your mouth after so long.

“Trust me,” he groans, pushing himself up through the aches of his bruised ego. “I’m as confused as you.”

His presence here must be such a horrifying phenomenon to perplex you to such a degree because he thinks you’ve blinked once (and yes, he was counting) since this entire thing started. “What are you – where –”

The two of you turned to the suspiciously closing door. Sebastian could swear he heard the room snickering. Bastard.

“Would you believe me if I told you I was just leaning passing by and the door suddenly opened?”

“It opened?”

A half-truth but whatever saves what is left of his tattered pride. Plus, your confused face was a bit too entertaining. In the span of your doomed friendship it was usually him that had no idea what’s going on half of the time, just ready to jump when you jump and fight when you fight.

This is a welcome change.

Instead of answering, Sebastian’s attention was caught on the grand room. “You’ve been busy.”

The once rows and rows of books the two of you had devoured as you desperately searched and hoped that an answer to the source of your power could result in the cure had now turned into an actual space that could rival the Slytherin Common Room with just a hint more of you.

A flash of embarrassment trickled in Sebastian’s spine to find that you had remained in your spot when he had turned, staring at him like he was an Inferi reincarnated straight in her room. Which, to be fair, he did intrude.

Though a part of him just can’t let it go, too desperate to figure something out. After months of trying to catch a glimpse -- he finally caught you, and alone at that. Who knows when the next time will be? If there is even going to be one.

He hopes that if he somehow gets some answers, it’ll get you out of his head.

“It’s been a while, huh?” he grimaces, running his palm at the back of his head.

“It’s been,” he feels warm and cold at once when your eyes scanned his entire figure. Suddenly, feeling silly in his proper suit and tie when you are dressed so casually. He in turn took any and every detail his eyes could map. “A while.”

Then, another detail. “Your hair’s longer.”

Before his brain could stop his limbs he was reaching out, plucking out a couple of strands casually. So thirsty for information – any information – about you that the suddenly length of your hair seemed like the most interesting thing in the world.

You suck in a breath, and he curses. “My apolo –”

Suddenly, from behind him, a distant monstrous screech echoed in the room.

Instinctively, he grabs your wrist, pulling you behind him until he finally takes a moment and realizes where it had come from.

He lets out a relieved laugh and you giggle along with him.

That made him perk up.

It … really has been a while. It fills him with a deep sense of melancholy to realize how much he had miss your laugh when he used to have it in abundance.

“Do you want to visit the Vivarium?” Your eyes gleamed with humor, a stark contrast to the cold, unyielding expression you usually wore each day. “I’m sure Highwing misses you.”

Sebastian smiles, a real one. One that stretches his skin and crinkles his eyes.

As if in agreement herself, Highwing screeches again.

He unbuttons his ensemble, dragging his tie off before carefully hanging it on the arm of the nearest loveseat. He starts rolling his sleeves, a grin grows on both your faces. A juvenile type of joy that is both familiar and unfamiliar.

He wonders whether you realized that even if you had told him there was a starving, man-eating ogre inside your Vivarium, he still would have said yes.

“Lead the way.”

The brightness of the Vivarium never fails to disorient him the few times he was able to visit. The harsh difference of the moody room to the bright fields was something he won’t ever get used to.

Highwing screeched the moment she saw him, making a sharp turn and dive, landing a few feet away to jog past you as she damn near slammed into his chest. It was clear you were trying to hide your amazement when he barely flinched on impact.

He was proud of his physique which had also been the sole reason you called him into this Room in the first place.

It had been in your desperation (and inability to hide a secret from Sebastian) that you asked for his help when taking care of Highwing. She was a regal creature but she was also a wild animal that has the physical strength she sometimes forgets she owns and you’ve suffered enough bruised ribs and fractured bones to know you need someone with the physical strength to withstand hers.

But even then, it was a sharp learning curve, with Sebastian barely being able to stand his ground. Now, he plays around with her like she were some overeager childhood barn dog he used to jostle around in Feldcroft.

After giving his respects and bowing, he quickly straddled her strong back. The beast overeager at seeing her old friend and her pace too fast for any pause.

“Give me your hand!” He reached out to quickly grab and hoist you up behind him as Highwing shot up into the sky before you could settle. This forced you to hold on tightly to his waist, the two of you too busy screaming in fear and excitement to care about the sudden skinship.

He forgot he had it in him to laugh and scream so freely as Highwing chose the most precarious route, flying above the cliffs and diving down through skinny passages, clearly enjoying your torment. From the vibrations on his back, it would seem he was not alone.

Despite the stunning views in front of him he can’t help but keep looking back. Feeling like the same desperate fifth-year trying to impress his way into becoming the new kid’s favorite housemate.

And for a moment – just a moment – he sees it. The old you, one who used to brighten just at the sight of him. Ready for whatever adventure or misadventure he brings your way.

Despite the unfair odds, both of you had grown remarkably well.

He just never expected that the two of you would be apart when it happens.

He turned, managing to catch your beaming face before it fell. A haze of sadness seeming to pass over your eyes that was gone when he blinked.

“Are you alright?” he screamed to be heard despite the wind, now unable to see your face again as you looked down.

Your hold on his waist loosened. His stomach sinks.

“I’m perfect.”

“Here, watch your step.”

You’re in a sudden foul mood.

A short trip on Highwing’s back was usually just what you wanted when you needed to lift your spirits and yet he could almost see the clouds above the walls you’ve wrapped around yourself. Sebastian’s mind runs as he wonders if something happened in such a short time that has you refusing to meet his eyes again as you stare at the falling sun.

“How do you not stay here all day?” he tries to start a conversation.

He eyes you, a small weight lifting at the sight of a shy smile. “I do stay here all day.”

Sebastian realizes a second too late that he stepped on an unfortunate line.

That’s why he never sees you in the Halls of Hogwarts anymore. You were here, every day. Alone in this slice of paradise and yet somehow, something in the melancholy in your expression told him it wasn’t something you were entirely content with.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he blinks, confused, guilty, defensive. You sit on the ledge, closing your eyes as the strong, warm breeze drifted between the two of you.

“Like I’m something to be pitied,” you chuck the word out softly yet it still felt like an accusation. “I may not be future Triwizard Champion but I haven’t fallen low enough for you to feel sorry for me.”

He flusters. “I don’t – that’s not –”

“I know.”

Sebastian blinks, heart moving twice as fast in his panic at the potential misunderstanding that could implode this small peace they’re borrowing.

“I was joking.”

A moment, a mischievous smile, and then the two of you were laughing. Sebastian slumping right next to you, laying down on the warm patch of grass, and looking up in the sky.

It was as if the two of you were making up from the years of distance as you continued laughing – the type of laughter Sebastian hasn’t had in a while. The type of joy that grows from his chest and cramps his stomach.

Of course, you know – you of all people wouldn’t purposefully misunderstand Sebastian. You of all people would know what he meant. After all, only you of all people truly know who he is. Profound flaws, jagged scars, oozing wounds and all.

He thinks it a strange thing – to only find true comfort in the one person you had left in the past.

A gentle silence follows yet Sebastian finds himself scrambling. Desperately finding the next word, another topic, something that can let him borrow more of your time.

‘How have you been?’ ‘I’m sorry about what happened with William.’ ‘Actually, I’m not sorry at all.’‘Have you grown to hate me?’

“Nothing really went to plan, didn’t it?”

Sebastian’s head snaps to you. You purse your lips, almost apologetic at the words that slipped out of your mouth.

But between the two of you, you had always been the brave one.

Sebastian shook his head, sitting back down.

If you asked him, it had all gone to hell.

He lost Anne, lost Ominis, lost you. He lost everything and everyone that he had ever held dear, all for a cure that his dying sister refused to take out of principle. She decided death was an easier pill to swallow than to live long enough to see what her brother had become.

And if that wasn’t enough, in his haze of bitterness and anger he managed to break the final bond he had left. Lashing out on the one person who had stood by him throughout it all. Pushing and pushing even as his heart screamed at him to stop – at her to stay. Afraid that she will just be another person to walk away, jumping ahead of the pain by escaping first. By hurting her first.

“Maybe it was for the best,” he mutters, unable to look her in the eyes. Ashamed, angry – ugly monstrous emotions that reminds him why he steered clear of her.

This way, being so far away from anyone who matters, he wouldn’t be able to hurt her – the one that matters most.

Finding scraps of bravery, he turns his head, surprised to find she was already looking at him. An expression he couldn’t quite read on her face.

“I mean, look at you now,” she chuckles quietly, a hint of bitterness in her tone that triggers Sebastian’s nerves. “You’re not exactly the delinquent I meet in fifth year.”

“Delinquent is quite a stretch. “ He barks out a laugh. “You’re not doing so bad yourself. You’re giving me a run for my money in Charms and DADA.”

“ -- and Arithmancy,” She adds making Sebastian shake his head.

“And Arithmancy,” he corrects himself. “At least you still suck at Divination.”

“That doesn’t count, it’s not real.”

“I think Professor Onai and my grades would beg to disagree,” she rolls her eyes, Sebastian smirks. “Plus, I know you’re doing secret research for Hecate. So, you definitely have that Auror Programme in the bag.”

That seemed to genuinely surprise her. “When were you so nosy?”

He shrugs, “I’m a Slytherin, I like to keep an eye on my competition.”

“I’m a Slytherin.”

“That no longer counts. You’re dating a Raven –"

Another landmine. He winces before he catches himself and she falters for a second. “I’m sorry about – I heard –”

Great work, Sebastian, you bloody idiot.

“You know I could still …” he waves his wand awkwardly in the air, half-hoping she’d accept his threat. Unfortunately, she just laughed softly.

“It wasn’t his fault,” she shrugs. “It’s like you said. It was for the best.”

The gall to throw his words back at him. Sebastian would be impressed if he wasn’t a bit frustrated. “Krista is … beautiful. You’re a good pair.”

He freezes.

“T-Thanks,” The sudden reminder was like a bolt of lightning to his spine. A sinking feeling of guilt and confusion of said guilt when he technically hasn’t done anything wrong. “I’m very lucky.”

She bites the inside of her lip, nodding to herself. A habit she developed when she’s trying to find the right words to say. He would be more than happy to help but for the life of him, Sebastian was too flustered to find a way out of the awkward tension.

“I guess we got everything we ever wanted in the end, huh?” he mutters, feeling the half-lie slip out of his mouth easily despite the bile that churns in his stomach and threatens to follow.

Technically, he was right. You’re about to reach your dream. Break-up aside, he knows the most noble Wizarding family are bidding their time to throw their heirs at your feet. He knows whatever you chose to do next will be another great big adventure he will now have to read in the papers instead of your letters.

However, his heart stopped when you looked at him – almost stunned, betrayed. And he feels like he has stepped on the biggest landmine of all and it just exploded all over your faces.

Before he could backtrack, Highwing screeched from behind them. Her piercing cry was like a sharp blade to his ears as she got closer and pushier.

“I think she wants us to go back,” you murmur, quickly patting your clothes clean, turning away from him. “It’s time for her dinner. And I’m sure the rest of the students are going back to the dorms.”

Sebastian takes that as his cue, offering up his hand to help you up Highwing but you stay a distance away, arms wrapped around your body, now refusing to look at him again. And he feels like whatever improvement he felt he made on the ghost of your friendship got swept away by the strong winds.

“You go first,” you mutter. “I’ll … stay here for a while.”

“You’re not going back to the dorm?”

You look at him, and that expression he recognizes. A smile filled with deep sadness you always carried.

“I … need to write a letter,” Your smile falters. “The door should open if you ask for it.”

Even though he wants to object, an uneasy feeling building in his chest at the thought of leaving you here alone he knows when he has outstayed his welcome. And he is no longer in the position to demand that he escort you back to your room.

So instead, he just nods, jumping on Highwings back. “I … this was nice. I’ll see you around?”

Your mouth parts. As if finding the right words to say, or stopping the words from getting out. Then, you nod and it feels like a healing elixir in his veins.

“Goodbye, Sebastian.”

Highwing screeches at him, patience already thin and already preparing to fly.

Sebastian turns back when you suddenly call out his name.

So quiet, he wasn’t sure if he had hallucinated it – deluded himself into thinking that you were going to ask him to stay. That you were going to tell him that tonight will be the new foundation of rekindling any semblance of friendship, that you would tell him exactly what he needs to fix, what he needs to do that will allow him back into your life. That if you couldn’t love him then you would allow him to love you even in silence.

“She …” You bite your lips again. “You are … happy, right?”

Is he? He thinks of the proud faces of his professors, completely fooled by his sudden shift of demeanor. He thinks of Ominis, suspicious but amicable. He thinks of Krista: perfect, beautiful, enchanting Krista Vane. And he knows he’s built quite a life for himself – a life after you.

He should be happy.

But his mind flashes back. Back to the quiet nights in the Restricted Section with you, the less quiet ones running around dangerous caves and forbidden forests. He thinks of the time he had almost kissed you but instead stole a hairclip, something to remember you by. The only piece of you he has allowed himself to take.

He thinks of the first time he had seen you by the fire of the common room and how uninteresting the book in his hand had transformed when compared to you. He thinks of your first visit in Feldcroft, as you floated in front of the watch tower whose wooden ground he had worn down, pacing back and forth while he waited.

Is he happy? He looks at you, really looks at you.

No. “Yes,” he lies.

How beautiful you had looked in the rising sun, how it was the first time he realized he might just fall in love with you.

But once, I was very close.

Sebastian gives you the brightest smile he could muster even when he feels his soul rip in half.

This is for the best.

“I’ve never been happier.”

The statue in the courtyard breaks again.

But nobody noticed.

Nobody noticed the swirls of ancient magic as it leaked out of the rubble, nor how quickly the Durmstrang headmaster’s carriage flew into the heavy morning fog.

“How could you not tell me, Ominis?!”

“It was her decision to make! Just as you had made yours!”

Not even Sebastian.

Ever observant Sebastian Sallow as he runs past the fragments, past the murmuring crowds, and past Ominis’ protests as he desperately hoped to catch the first train out of Hogwarts.

After all, it is hard to care about a mere statue of a heartbroken woman when the news just broke:

The Hero has left Hogwarts.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow fanfiction

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livebloggingmydescentintomadness · 2 months ago

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Homie can I ask for fic recs!! Despite being on tumblr for a decade I’m just now finally watching supernatural and I’m loving it

wow, you held out an impressively long time! xD

i'm going to assume you're pretty much asking for destiel recs, since i haven't really read any gen or other ships and you didn't specify otherwise. here's the thing about destiel fic: there is so much of it. as of right now, there are 121,502 castiel/dean winchester works on ao3, and they go back to 2008. (and that's not even counting the fic on fanfiction.net, livejournal, tumblr, etc.)

i'm not saying any of that abundance is bad, not at all, but for ME PERSONALLY, i tend to be really picky about destiel fic because i feel like a lot of people sort of, well, go with fanon characterization instead of canon characterization. which is fine, you do you, but there is just so much to sift through and considering that i lived through the live airing of the show from 2013-2020 and kinda had my soul crushed with the finale, i've got a wee bit of trauma in that arena so i'm not often in the mood to go digging for gold, if that makes sense.

all that to say, a lot of my recs are old classics and not new classics, and there are a lot of fandom-titled classics that i just haven't gotten to reading yet. so i'm going to split my recs here into 'ones i've read and loved' and 'ones i know lots of other people have loved'. also, my tastes tend to run toward 'really good fleshed-out longfic au', in case that's not your thing.

with all that laid down, let's get into it.

(followers, please feel free to drop your own recs!)

my favorite destiel fic got taken deleted from ao3, but mercifully i was able to download an epub that i have in my 'deleted fics' google drive at this link: Kingdom Come by cheesewithmy dean and cas are both veterans, dean struggling to keep the roadhouse afloat while also building artificial limbs for people who need them. he finds a homeless cas using the sink for a bath and gives him a meal and a place to sleep, unaware that cas is the reason dean lost his arm in the war. they grow closer before cas's guilt drives him to run. he reaches out on the same night a couple of dick roman's goons decide to take dean's mechanical arm by force, hears dean gasp out that he's glad he got to talk to him one more time, and drops everything to race across the country on the hope that dean is still alive. a story of two depressed, traumatized, mildly to severely suicidal people learning how to live again.

A Beginner's Guide to Communing with the Dead by suspiciousflashlight T 77k dean is a cop who works on supernatural cases, and he's just desperate enough to break the law and summon a Class A Forbidden Entity for help. a grumpy one.

C-S-T-L by komodobits M 90k set in a scifi future, dean is a soldier assigned to work with the emotionless android C-S-T-L. one day, cas begins to feel.

The Girlfriend Experience by rageprufrock E 15k not my absolute favorite, but a must-read.

So Says The Sword by komodobits E 85k The briefing was simple: ‘Stand guard over the Michael Sword until the battle is ready to commence. Await further instructions.’

Convenient Husbands by Annie D (scaramouche) E 40k marriage of convenience/telepathic bond between hunter dean and creature cas.

The Ends of Earth by darkforetold E 47k post-apocalyptic steampunk, cas saves dean from execution and then gets saved right back.

Clean Air by anactoria E 121k Centuries after the surface of the earth was devastated by an unknown disaster, the remnants of humanity live in a series of vast underground silos, each unaware of the existence of the others.

For the inhabitants of Silo 34, the silo is the world, and the only world they know. Questions about the outside world are forbidden, and asking them is what got Dean Winchester's parents killed. He isn't even sure himself that they weren't crazy.

That all changes when he hears a voice on the radio -- a voice from another world.

The Breath Of All Things by KismetJeska T 65k after being paralyzed from the waist down in a car accident, dean lives in a care home and is deeply depressed. the new volunteer helps him learn how to want to live again.

A Hole in the World by AnnelieseMichel E 300k i'm not a big a/b/o fan, but damn, this one did it well. traumatized omega dean becomes entangled with alpha priest castiel while dealing with the court case against his rapists.

Shut Up (Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is) by kototyph E 24k sweet, fun "woke up married" trope.

The Sawdust Men by linoresearch E 123k cas is an inmate in a labor camp set in an alternate-history america. dean is a guard who starts to fall in love with cas and realizes the camp isn't what he'd been told it was.

Last One Out Hits The Lights by entanglednow E 37k alternate s5 zombie apocalypse

What Has Eight Tentacles and Isn't Allowed to Eat Pie? by Annie D (scaramouche) T 16k dean got turned into an octopus. it's cuter than it sounds.

Contrapasso by takadainmate M 60k Inside the town that doesn't exist, there is murder and madness and a creeping cold that leave Dean, Cas and Sam fighting for their lives and for each other. As the town shifts and changes around them, descending into anarchy, the three of them find it increasingly difficult to tell what's real and what's not.

Professional Couple Only by saltyfeathers M 37k your classic "fake dating for the case" fic

The Parts of Our Sum by Annie D (scaramouche) E 55k Castiel, a former soldier, has worked for the Company his entire life. They've been good to him, providing clothes, shelter and new body parts whenever necessary. Now the Company's gearing up for a space exploration voyage, and Castiel's volunteered for the research team. During the preparation period, he meets Dean Winchester, who makes Castiel wonder about the things he's missed out on.

a turn of the earth by microcomets M 95k "the time traveler's wife" au where cas gets stuck hopping through the timeline of dean's life.

Out of the Deep by riseofthefallenone E 488k a classic mermaid!cas fic

Vagabonds by chevrolangels E 90k delightful western au. dean is a sheriff, cas is an outlaw.

everything by MajorEnglishEsquire, such as The One Thing You Can't Lose T 5k You know what I like a lot? The thought that Dean can just tug Cas anywhere at any time and Cas, who can lift tons without effort, who can demolish things with the light of his grace, who has battled and gone to war, has defended and broken, will just let Dean do it.

everything by orange_crushed, such as The face of heaven. T 8k castiel is a fallen star

everything by Annie D (scaramouche), such as Dean Doesn't Listen to Eurythmics E 2k Dean and Castiel share a bed. It starts out platonic, and then becomes something else.

while i'm at it, i might as well plug my own two short destiel fics: the rhyme of salvation and I'm sorry it took me so long, which are both post 15x18 fix-its.

now let's get to some fandom favorites that i haven't personally read/finished yet.

Down to Agincourt by seperis E 1.1m for many, this is THE destiel fic. it has its own fandom. i know it's very good, i just haven't been able to get entirely sucked into it. set in the 5x04 endverse.

Ninety One Whiskey by komodobits E 400k others consider THIS one the destiel fic. i love the author, i just haven't committed to the whole fic yet. world war 2 au.

Put up your Dukes by saltyfeathers E 38k Dean can't sleep. Cas offers to tire him out.

Four Letter Word For Intercourse by bendingsignpost E 194k everybody loves this one, but i'm not sure if it's my style. college student dean doesn't realize the phone sex operator he's into is also his professor.

The Dean Winchester Beat Sheet by saltyfeathers E 144k another very popular college au

psalm 40:2 by unicornpoe E 44k Dean meets an angel who says he's from the future. It all gets a lot more complicated from there.

if you'd like still more, you could try my ao3 destiel bookmarks, where i have dozens more that i thought sounded interesting. happy reading!

#destiel #destiel fic rec #spn #ask #double-dorks-beanie

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bryngmemoney · 1 year ago

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✁FASHION FLIRT✃

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

⭑story masterlist link

tw: su!c!d3 joke, that’s it

Writing in between texts at the end!!

🪡Chapter Three: Fashion Walk

Leaning back against your chair you stared at Nobara’s phone in her hand, Maki leaning in from her other side. “What’d he say?” you asked. Maki hummed in agreement to your statement, also curious as to find out what was going on. “He’s being annoying, i’m telling you he’s so dry,” she answered you. Nobara sighed before putting her phone down, straightening her posture and crossing her legs. “Whatever, we’re starting soon so let’s just see how he does.” Unlocking her phone, Maki replied, “I wonder if he even practiced for this.”

Soon enough you heard Gojo’s voice begin to speak, looking up at how in the center of lined up chairs in front of you, a black table was placed. There he sat in the middle holding the microphone into which he was speaking to. Utahime, the other fashion teacher, sat to his right, always looking more professional than him. To his left was Suguru Geto, you didn’t take any of his classes but knew he was a well liked film teacher and apparently Yuta’s favorite. “Alright fashion students! We will be beginning the model auditions now. We ask that you remain quite and respectful throughout the show. Remember that these people are here for you, so please show your appreciation of them.” he leaned the microphone over to his right, “Anything you’d like to add Utahime?” he asked while holding his signature smirk. “Oh um…” she began, looking startled and caught off guard. “Good luck.. choosing your models.” Gojo took the microphone back, “Alright thank you for those motivational words miss! Now Geto here will be filming the auditions and as promised before, all designers will have the chance to look at the headshots and filmed photography after the audition, because we will be providing these we ask that you guys refrain from filming anything on personal devices. I think that’s all, soooo with that being said.. let’s begin!”

You watched the models file out one out a time, with a good amount of space between. A mixture of experienced and beginners. You wrote down the numbers displayed at the front of their shirt of the ones that caught your eye, however leaving the first slot blank as none had quite convinced you yet, well that is until he walked out. It was him, the guy you handed the poster too, Megumi Fushiguro! As he walked out you took in his features, how could Nobara call him ugly?? Just as you had written his number and looked up, you met his gaze for a second.

Author’s Note: quite a bit of writing on this one, hope it wasn’t that crazy of an amount, also hope you guys liked this chapter!!!

also apologies if some of the @ on the tags list don’t work i think tumblr was acting up, but i tried to fix it lemme know if it worked pls

Taglist below, feel free to comment or dm me to be added!!

TAGLIST

@iridescentrays @gumimegz @maya-maya-56 @mamafly @lunavixia @swissy23 @coltsgf @m00nglad3-mp3 @etsukis @xosren @qtnfer

#megumi x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk art college au #jjk megumi #jjk smau #jjk college au #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi fushiguro #smau #megumi x you #gojo satoru #geto suguru #nobara kugisaki #yuta okkotsu #yuji itadori #maki zenin #non curse au

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starkspondwater · 3 months ago

Note

Hi! I don’t know if you’re taking requests but if you are I have a devious request 😈😈😈

well ok it’s not devious but it’s so freaking cute. I was thinking Butters x plus sized!reader? But that’s not central to the story lol 🙈 Anyways I love the ‘enemies/academic rivals’ trope where one of them thinks that the two of them are enemies and the other is head over heels, not realising that they’re ‘enemies’!! I think it’d be so cute with Butters 🙊🙊

thank yew for reading this 😛

I love writing for Butters, this request is a godsend

I've never seen Butters in any academic rivals sort of role before so it was actually kind of fun to play around with that! I did take some artistic liberties with that trope so I hope you like it!

Summary: Butters always got on your nerves, being so cheery all the time. Now that he was doing better in a class that you should've had in the bag, it only made things worse- but what happens when he offers his help along with a little confession?

a/n: I really hope this does come off as one sides rivals because I was strugglin, Butters is just too sweet to hate

Annoyances- Butters Stotch x Rival!Plus Sized!Reader

“Heya fellas!”

As the words hit your ears you cringed. Butters always had that effect on you with his overly cheery attitude and childish demeanor. With every sweet word he said it grated on your every nerve.

“Hey Butters! What’s up?” You shot Wendy a dirty look as she actually tried to converse with him. She purposefully avoided eye contact as she exchanged pleasantries with the blond. Huffing, you turned to your own food, aggressively spearing some broccoli.

“-What about you, Y/N?”

“Huh?” Swiveling in your seat you saw that the offending boy had actually tried to drag you into their conversation despite the fact that you obviously did not care. He had not taken up a seat as he continued to just stand there at your lunch table, his knuckles lightly bumping into each other. From the corner of your eye you could see Wendy stifling a giggle as she watched you.

“I was wonderin’ if you had already figured out your biology project?” he gave a toothy smile as he said it, baby blues shining expectantly.

You mentally groaned at the thought.

You were very aware that you were not the smartest one in your class, that honor went to both Wendy and Kyle who already had a friendly rivalry for the higher gpa. You did however pride yourself on your scientific knowledge. To put it frankly, biology was your shit.

So why were you moaning at the thought of a biology project? Well, Dr. Graham was an excellent teacher, providing over the top lessons that had even the laziest of students interested. The issue was that he liked to include more…creative elements to his assignments.

What should've just been a standard essay that you would've rocked would suddenly turn into an art project the likes of which kindergartners would cry at. You could barely draw a stick figure let alone create the masterpiece that would guarantee you a B, much less an A.

You know who did get As on every project? Fucking Butters. The guy, who at the age of 19 in a beginner bio course only knew that the mitochondria was the powerhouse of the cell, was doing better than you were. You would call bullshit if the professor didn't sing his praises every week.

So now you were sitting with a measly C and struggling to even keep that grade. It was infuriating. And to make it worse this next project was huge and worth a lot of your grade, something that had you more on edge than ever.

“No Butters, I am still figuring that out,” sighing, you went back to violently stabbing the veggies in front of you.

“Oh, well, if you need a buddy I'm always free! It'd be awful fun to work on things together!” with a bright grin he gave a quick goodbye and went on his way.

“I don't know why you don't like him, Y/N,” Wendy tapped the table in front of you with a manicured nail, “it's not like he's actually done anything to you.”

“Says you! It's like he's always trying to shove the fact that he's doing so much better than me in my face!” That was an overstatement, but in your mind rationality went out the window when it came to Butters.

_____

Back in highschool he had been kind enough, but something about him irked you. You had been raging with hormones and an onset of depression that left you a little cynical in your early teenage years, so to have a happy-go-lucky ray of sunshine always bouncing around you wasn’t exactly your kind of vibe.

You weren’t unlikeable by any means, but you weren’t a social butterfly like Bebe Stevens or queen of Being in Every Club like Wendy, so your circle of friends was…rather intimate. Butters however seemed to know everyone and floated from group to group with absolute ease, and for some god forsaken reason would invite you to join in. It felt like pity the way he’d ask, like what he was really saying was: “I know you don’t have any friends, so let me show you mine!”

The big inciting incident that really pissed you off happened senior year. Prom.

The original plan had been to go with the group of your closest girlfriends, and the night was going to be a blast! Starting at Wendy’s you all would get ready, her mother making a nice meal for all her girls. Then, Bebe’s dad was going to shell out money for a limo so your group would arrive in style! If only that plan actually happened.

Throughout the two months before prom, every girl you knew got asked. From dramatic promposals to lowkey gestures, you heard about every single one. It shouldn’t have bothered you, but it did. It didn’t escape your notice that no one had even shown an interest in asking you, and while normally you would’ve let it roll off your shoulders, you couldn’t help but see what you thought others did.

You were a bigger girl, hips a little larger and tummy a bit more prominent than your smaller friends. It wasn’t something you disliked about yourself at all, but the thought that for some reason something like a little extra weight meant you wouldn’t get to participate the same way as the other girls made your heart sink.

It had been a Thursday, two weeks and two days before prom. You had resigned yourself to either tagging along with a friend and their date or possibly going alone when a thought struck you. You could just ask someone yourself!

Going over your mental list of available gentlemen, you found yourself going down a road you didn’t expect.

There’s Jimmy, Kevin, Bradley, Butters- NO, not him…Is Craig still taken? As you kept pondering, Butter’s name kept popping up despite your repeated attempts to push it away. At the time he had only provided a mild irritation, but you couldn’t lie to yourself that the boy wasn’t attractive. He was tall and clean, and his face really wasn’t bad to look at.

The rest of the day those thoughts ran through your head, and the more you thought about it, the more you realized that you had always found him kind of cute. Sure, you pushed him away time and time again, but you couldn’t help but feel like there was another reason for that. Dating was a scary thing in your eyes, and the thought of getting close to someone like that made you sweat…it could explain a lot with a guy like Butters who constantly tried to talk with you.

So, with all that (mostly) unpacked in your head, you figured that it wouldn’t be a horrible idea to ask the blond to prom.

As you strode up to his locker, you felt your nerves fray. That alone would have proved your little hypothesis about liking him, but with the addition of actually seeing his face along with that revelation you felt like you were going to throw up.

Pulling up your big kid pants, you trudged on coming to a stop next to him.

“Heya Y/N!,” Butters beamed, giving you a look at his blindingly white teeth.

“Hey Butters…uh, can I ask you something real quick?” You kept fumbling with your hands, not knowing where to put them as his blue eyes looked on in concern.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah…” taking a quick breath, you pushed on, “Were you going to go to prom?”

“You bet I am! My mom and dad let me rent a suit and everything!” his excitement hit you full force as he babbled. A month ago you would have rolled your eyes, but here and now you couldn’t help but let that feeling infect you too. At least until the next sentence left his lips. “I asked Jessica to go with me and she said yes! Can you believe it? I had a whole sign made up for her and everything, and when she saw-”

You tuned out everything else Butters said, a smile frozen on your face.

He had a date already. He already asked someone.

You didn’t even know you liked the guy until a few hours ago, and yet it still hurt. And here he was blabbing about his upcoming date while you struggled to nod your head and act interested.

“What about you? I heard no one asked ya so I didn’t know if you were going alone or not.” The question made your blood run cold. It was one thing to not be able to properly ask him, it was another entirely for him to just blatantly point out that you were dateless.

Keeping the frozen smile, you answered evenly, fists clenched at your side.

“I decided not to go. I have other plans.” You only saw a hint of pity on his face before you turned and stalked off.

It wasn't even really anything to be mad over, you knew that, but the rational side of you was silent when it came to Butters. From then on you resolved to not have anything to do with him, no matter how many times he came around to see your friends.

It was petty, yes, but embarrassment and shame can dictate a lot of things.

_____

The study room you had reserved at the library was quiet, just what you needed as you ended up mangling the poster board in front of you. The biology project was kicking your ass but you'd be damned if you didn't give it your best.

A hesitant knock at the door startled you, making you look up from the disappointing mess you had created in your short time there. The feeling quickly turned to annoyance as a familiar head of blond hair popped into view.

“...What do you want, Butters?” you sighed, leaning back in your chair. With a book bag slung over his shoulder and a few plastic bags in hand, he entered fully and shut the door behind him.

Butters fidgeted a bit, rocking onto the balls of his feet as his eyes darted away from yours. That was…weird. He normally didn't act nervous around you, but then again he rarely was alone with you either.

“The other rooms are full and Wendy said you might be okay sharin’ yours…i-if that's okay with ya!”

You blinked. Between your irritation at Wendy for telling him this and your surprise at him being there you weren't sure what to think. Your silence must have unnerved him as he opened his mouth once more, a quick stream of words pouring forth.

“I can help with your project too! I know you probably have it under control, but two heads are better than one, right?” while his panicked expression made you uneasy, the gears in your head turned at his words.

Butters was good at this creative shit, he had a special knack for it. You needed an A on this project and your ability to think today was already fried.

Well fuck.

“...Sure. Stay and help.” You could feel the headache forming behind your eyes when he sat down across the table.

Butters was already chattering about something or other, words going a mile a minute as he unpacked his bags. Your eyes bulged at the sheer amount of stuff he brought- colored pencils, steamers, glitter, pipe cleaners…it kind of put your shitty poster board and dollar store markers to shame.

“So were you makin’ a poster?” Butters asked with a shy smile. It wasn't condescending, but you still felt your defenses raise.

The project was to create something to teach the class about an animal of your choice- it could be a painting, a video, a sculpture, or anything under the sun that wasn't just a plain old power point. In all your creative wisdom, you chose to do a damn poster over river otters.

“Yeah…I was thinking of doing something else, but I wasn't sure what…” having his eyes on you felt odd. It wasn't the same way he looked at his friends, and it made you curl in on yourself slightly.

“Well otters are real cute so I'm sure anything you do would look great!” Clicking his tongue, Butters looked to your meager supplies and then back up at you. “Just…if you wanted to learn about ‘em, what would you wanna see?”

That was a question you hadn’t thought about before. Drumming your fingers along the table, you thought for a moment.

“...I suppose I'd like to see how they live? Like, in their habitat.” At your answer the boy's smile grew and he nodded.

“So, maybe we could make ya something to show that off!”

“Like a diorama?” The idea made you smile a bit, the fond memory of decorating the insides of shoeboxes for class to show off to your peers coming to mind.

“Exactly!” And with that you were off.

_____

Hours zoomed by and your measly little poster had turned into something much more fun! You didn’t even mind that the person you had been making jokes with and sitting so close to was Butters, this was probably the most enjoyable an assignment had ever been for you. You knew he had a talent for this sort of thing, but to see his mind work in real time as he made suggestions and bounced ideas off of you was honestly impressive.

By 7 that evening, your time in the reserved room was about up, the two of you cleaning up the shared mess on the floor. For once you knew your project would do well- the poster board stood as a flat surface with various materials and rocks glued on to look like a more natural habitat. Butters had even let you borrow some paints because “water colors were meant for water!” You had suggested a river down the middle of the board and when his chipper voice chimed in you didn’t feel annoyed but…extremely encouraged. It was nice.

“Thanks for helping me Butters, I’m…no good at this sort of stuff, ha,” you said sheepishly. All this time being unnecessarily mad at the guy and he wasn’t so bad.

“Oh! It’s no problem at all Y/N!” he replied with a grin, and for a split second you caught it falter. Butters stilled for a moment, contemplating his next words. “I, uh, I’ve been trying to get close to ya for a while now… figured the excuse of helping a pretty girl would do the trick.”

What?

“What?” Wide eyed you stared at the boy in front of you whose face bloomed a pink hue. You saw his Adam's apple bounce as he gulped.

“I’ve liked ya for…well golly, ever since we met! You’re really pretty and funny and…I dunno, I just can’t help but feel all fuzzy around ya is all…” Butters voice grew quieter as he spoke. You hadn’t realized how close the boy had gotten to you.

You thought you had gotten over that teensy little crush from back then, but here it was right in front of your face. He was leaning in and with your nerves on fire you mentally cursed as your body betrayed you, leaning in as well to meet him.

Butters had surprisingly firm lips, and as he brought up a hand to angle your face for a deeper kiss you found you didn’t mind that at all. It wasn’t awkward, like some of the other kisses you had experienced. It was as though your lips were puzzle pieces that fit in just the right way no matter how you pieced them together, like they were made for the other. Just as his tongue swept your lower lip did a thought occur to you, making you push yourself away and to your feet.

“If you liked me, why didn’t you ask me to prom? You knew I didn’t have a date!” It took a few seconds for the words to register to him, but once they did he was on his feet as well.

“I tried! I couldn’t get you alone to actually ask and if I’m bein’ honest…I thought you wouldn’t say yes. I always thought you were too cool for lil ol’ me,” Butters stepped closer, eyebrows drawn together. “I only asked Jessica because her girlfriend lived in another state and couldn’t make it. Did that really bother you?”

“No! Well…I wouldn’t have told you no. I…was going to ask you but then…”

“...you’re fuckin’ kidding me.” Running a hand roughly down his face, his voice rose. “You mean to tell me that you wanted to ask me out? And I ruined it for myself?”

Butters was now standing way too close, close enough that even the smallest step forward would have him bumping right into you.

“Oh, uh, it’s not a big deal Butters. It doesn’t matter anyway-”

“Of course it matters! I’ve been sweet on ya for so long!” With a look of determination, Butters put both his hands on the wall on either side of your head, effectively trapping you. “Would…would ya still be interested? In going out, I mean.”

Your heart thumped. You had spent a lot of time telling yourself how much you disliked him, keeping yourself at arms length. It shouldn’t be difficult to say no, but the thrill at knowing that he wanted to be with you was too much to ignore. You wanted this. You didn’t know why, but goddammit you did.

You only nodded once before his lips smacked against yours. Disappointingly, this wasn’t the same kiss as before, Butter’s pulling away after only a few seconds. That feeling didn’t stay for long though, as he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the door, collecting your packed bags as he passed them.

“Where are we going?” You laughed, his eagerness to tug you along too cute not to appreciate.

“A date! We already wasted enough time not talkin’, I’m not wastin’ anymore!”

“But my project!” you skid to a stop, turning back to grab what you had spent the better part of the evening on. Butters looked a tad embarrassed when you got back, his hand rubbing his neck. With your project in hand, you nudged him lightly, a small smile gracing your features. “So, a date, huh?”

“If that’s alright with you, I don’t want to force ya or nothin’,” his voice squeaked a bit as he looked down at you, a flush reaching his ears.

Today turned out a lot differently than you had expected, but you couldn’t help feeling a little grateful for this turn of events. You might’ve sold the guy in front of you a little short, but that didn’t mean things had to stay that way. Bringing your eyes back up to his, your smile widened.

“I’d love to, Butters.”

#south park fanfiction #butters stotch x y/n #butters stotch x you #butters stotch x reader #south park x reader #south park x y/n #south park x you #one sided rivals is hard for me to write #but i tried my best!#request

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etherealdelusion · 4 months ago

Text

chapter one

Series Masterlist

summary: Suguru Geto is a top soccer star at Jujutsu University (set in the states). Entering his senior year, he is focused on getting drafted to a Major League Soccer (MLS) team. His mission is slightly disruptee by the school's newest soccer reporter Charlye Posh. A nasty breakup leaves her wanting to stay single but Suguru could change her mind. She knows the risk that comes with messing with your sources but Suguru makes the conflict of interest worth it.

pairing: suguru geto/oc (soccer AU)

word count: 1.5k

author's note: it has been agessss since I have dabbled in writing fanfics. I just recently wanted to flex my writing chops so this chaptered fic is a result of that. I am very nervous dropping but this but I hope y'all like it. Depending on reception, I'll post more of thr chapters I have written. And the OC is Black. Enjoy!

"I'm sad I can't go with you guys. Toji doesn't want to take on daddy duties this weekend," Taron huffs as she balances Califiya on her hip.

The five-month-old drools on her baggy white tee as she sleeps soundly on her shoulder.

Charlye frowns, rubbing Taron's arm. "You can come! It's just a bowling party. You don't have to worry about alcohol, and I'm sure Cali would have a blast seeing all the colors everywhere."

Taron gives Charlye a gracious smile, shaking her head. "Don't worry about it. We can plan for something later this week. I'll just threaten to take Toji to court again. That gets him to act right."

The two snicker.

"Alright. Let's go," Jaryah adjusts her denim mini skirt, but Charyle rolls her eyes at the attempt, knowing the fabric was barely covering her ass.

Charlye claps her hands together, doing a little cheer. "I'm ready to partyyy!"

"Damn right!" Jaryah says. "This is the last free night before we start classes, and you get bogged down with sports."

Charlye sighs, realizing how busy she'll be writing about soccer season soon. It is her first time covering college soccer after asking transition from her features beat. She'd be lying to herself if she said she wasn't nervous about the big step.

"Let's make the most of the night." Charlye hugs Taron, giving Califiya a delicate kiss on the forehead. "Night, Taron! We will be sure to be quiet as a mouse when we return."

Taron presses her lips together, knowing Charlye's promise is more ambitious than doable.

"Be careful! Use protection! And please don't text me if you see my ex!"

Charyle and Jaryah nod before exiting out the door.

"Strike!"

Satoru pumps his fist in the air as his sky blue ball collides with all 10 pins, sending them scattering across the slick wood.

"Eh, beginner's luck," Suguru says as he gets up to grab his ball.

Satoru sticks his tongue out. "No need to be jealous. I'm sure you all will match my dominance soon."

Satoru always held a bowling party before starting the first day of classes. While it was something his parents started, he wanted to make sure to continue the tradition.

It gives me good luck going into the year, he'd always claim.

"You said your friends were coming, right?" Satoru says to Nanami, who is preoccupied with his phone.

"I wouldn't call them my friends, but I thought the one was nice. I haven't met the friend she's bringing," Nanami answers.

"Coming from someone who's the school's tour guide, I think it's a habit for you to call anyone nice," Satoru jokes.

Nanami ignores Satoru, checking his phone as it chimes. "They're here!"

Jaryah texts Nanami who to look for as she searches for perfectly placed blonde hair amidst the packed bowling alley.

"You said this is a friend, right?" Charyle asks as she follows Jaryah.

Jaryah laughs, slightly tinting her head. "Welllll, I wouldn't say he's a friend, buuuut I thought he was nice when I bumped into him in the student center."

"He thought you were hot," Charyle says matter-of-factly.

Jaryah briefly glances at Charlye, shrugging. "You caught me."

Before Charyle can respond, a muscular white arm waves them over. When she catches sight of the owner of the arm, she understood why Jaryah would accept a stranger's invite to a party.

"He's hot," She says to Jaryah as they get closer to the rowdy crew.

Jaryah hums in response as she greets Nanami with a hug. "Hello again!"

Nanami smiles, hugging her, but his eyes follow down to what's behind Jaryah. He lowly whistles at the sight of her skirt struggling to contain her protruding rump.

"Nice to meet you," Charlye quickly snaps his attention. "We appreciate the invite."

"Absolutely," Nanami says, "Please enjoy yourselves. The tab is on Satoru, so order any drinks you want."

As Jaryah and Nanami get deep into conversation, Charlye is interrupted by a white-haired, blue-eyed figure approaching her.

"You must be the friends Nanami mentioned to us," Gojo says as he extends his hand, "I'm Satoru."

Charyle shakes his hand. "Charyle, but with a y."

Satoru raises an eyebrow. "Why the spelling?"

"So I don't get Charlie Brown jokes."

Gojo's lips quiver into a laugh. "I wasn't going to do that, but hey, good to know."

Another person walks up, and Charlye is mesmerized by his beauty. The long dark-haired guy extends his hand, smiling. "Suguru."

"Charyle," she quickly replies, shaking his hand. She squeals inside at the quick contact between their hands. If it wasn't for Saturo's clapping, she would've kept her hand lingering on Suguru's.

"I hope Satoru doesn't annoy you too much tonight. He can get a little—”

"OH YEAH, ANOTHER STRIKE!” Satoru howls, causing Suguru to sigh at his outburst.

"You get the idea," Suguru chuckles. "Can I get you a drink?"

Suguru is intrigued by the woman in front of him. He didn't expect much when Nanami mentioned he invited two random girls. After all, they shared different types. Suguru was impressed to see two gorgeous women walk up. He noticed Charyle immediately, who donned a Black crop top paired with baggy tanned cargo pants and brown Nike dunks. Her dimples complimented her baby face that was flawlessly covered in makeup.

Suguru had no intention in hooking up with anyone as he had a soccer season to focus on, but he thought he could bend his strict rule for this cocoa brown bombshell.

"I'll do a vodka soda with lemon," Charlye's voice brings Suguru back to reality.

His cheeks burn in embarrassment as he sees from Charlye's eyes squinting at him that she can tell he is checking her out.

"Right," Suguru clears his throat as he heads to the bar.

Charlye didn't mind when a guy checked her out. She normally never entertained advances from guys, so any kind of attention she received felt like a treat. While she had no intentions in possibly meeting a guy, she couldn't help but wonder if Suguru would be worth her time.

Suguru returned with two drinks in his hand. He handed Charlye her clear concoction while he took a swig of his beer. As Charlye sipped her drink, she could sense Suguru's eyes undressing her. His eyes had a hunger behind them she didn't see when they first shook hands.

Suguru felt the same way. He could sense Charlye feeling the similar desire to feel their bodies collide. Unlike a few minutes ago, he felt no shame showing he wanted her.

“So…did your friend drag you along to this?” Suguru attempts to break the silent eye-fucking game between them.

Charlye shakes her head. “She was super nervous about coming. I am merely here for moral support.”

Suguru hums in response. “How nice. Well, I am glad Nanami's guest brought cute company.”

Charlye raises an eyebrow. “Oh? So I'm only cute to you?”

A grin stretches across his face as he tilts his bottle for another sip.

“Gorgeous? Breathtaking? I can throw out many words. Just wanted to be polite.”

A slight heat creeps up Charlye's cheeks.

“How considerate,” she sucks on the straw in her drink, hoping the liquid would ease the bundle of nerves in her stomach.

“Can I follow you on social media? I'd love to take you out some—”

"Not interested," Charlye quickly responds.

Suguru chokes on his drink, coughing to relieve the bitter liquid stuck in his windpipe.

"Excuse me?" He croaks.

"I'm not interested," she repeats.

"Wait what? Did I say something wrong?" Suguru is confused by Charyle's sudden switch after feeling the sexual tension between them.

"I know. I just….." Charlye trails, fishing for a lousy excuse to avoid giving another man a chance at her heart.

Suguru patiently waits for her answer, but Charlye's lips remain scrunched as she thinks.

"Listen I don’t—"

"Suguru, it's your turn!" Satoru shouts over the loud music.

Charlye sighs in relief at Satoru being her saving grace out of the situation. She watches Suguru reluctantly go take his turn to bowl. While he walks away, she darts to Jaryah who is entangled with Nanami on one of the couches. She's giggling loudly as Nanami whispers in her ear.

"Hey, I'm ready to go," Charlye taps Jaryah on the arm.

"What? Char, we just got here," Jaryah protests, shooting her an annoyed look her way.

"Can we at least stay for another hour?"

"You can," Charlye says. "I'm leaving." Before she can hear Jaryah's response, she heads toward the exit to call an Uber.

Satoru hands Suguru his ball, grinning. “You made that hot girl run off. Damn, are you that rusty?”

“Shut up,” Suguru grumbles as he chucks the ball down.

Satoru nudges him, chuckling. “What happened? You tell her you’re too laser-focused on making your dreams come true? You know you don’t have to let a round ball cockblock you. Loosen up, dude.”

Suguru rolls his eyes. “Is it a crime to care about my passion? Besides, I do hope I get to see her again.”

And little did he know he would right on his home turf.

#suguru geto #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #suguru geto x oc #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #suguru geto x black!reader #jjk x oc #jujustsu kaisen x reader #suguru geto x reader #jjk x reader #geto suguru

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codingquill · 2 years ago

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JavaScript Fundamentals

I have recently completed a course that extensively covered the foundational principles of JavaScript, and I'm here to provide you with a concise overview. This post will enable you to grasp the fundamental concepts without the need to enroll in the course.

Prerequisites: Fundamental HTML Comprehension

Before delving into JavaScript, it is imperative to possess a basic understanding of HTML. Knowledge of CSS, while beneficial, is not mandatory, as it primarily pertains to the visual aspects of web pages.

Manipulating HTML Text with JavaScript

When it comes to modifying text using JavaScript, the innerHTML function is the go-to tool. Let's break down the process step by step:

Initiate the process by selecting the HTML element whose text you intend to modify. This selection can be accomplished by employing various DOM (Document Object Model) element selection methods offered by JavaScript ( I'll talk about them in a second )

Optionally, you can store the selected element in a variable (we'll get into variables shortly).

Employ the innerHTML function to substitute the existing text with your desired content.

Element Selection: IDs or Classes

You have the opportunity to enhance your element selection by assigning either an ID or a class:

Assigning an ID:

To uniquely identify an element, the .getElementById() function is your go-to choice. Here's an example in HTML and JavaScript:

HTML:

<button id="btnSearch">Search</button>

JavaScript:

document.getElementById("btnSearch").innerHTML = "Not working";

This code snippet will alter the text within the button from "Search" to "Not working."

Assigning a Class:

For broader selections of elements, you can assign a class and use the .querySelector() function. Keep in mind that this method can select multiple elements, in contrast to .getElementById(), which typically focuses on a single element and is more commonly used.

Variables

Let's keep it simple: What's a variable? Well, think of it as a container where you can put different things—these things could be numbers, words, characters, or even true/false values. These various types of stuff that you can store in a variable are called DATA TYPES.

Now, some programming languages are pretty strict about mentioning these data types. Take C and C++, for instance; they're what we call "Typed" languages, and they really care about knowing the data type.

But here's where JavaScript stands out: When you create a variable in JavaScript, you don't have to specify its data type or anything like that. JavaScript is pretty laid-back when it comes to data types.

So, how do you make a variable in JavaScript?

There are three main keywords you need to know: var, let, and const.

But if you're just starting out, here's what you need to know :

const: Use this when you want your variable to stay the same, not change. It's like a constant, as the name suggests.

var and let: These are the ones you use when you're planning to change the value stored in the variable as your program runs.

Note that var is rarely used nowadays

Check this out:

let Variable1 = 3; var Variable2 = "This is a string"; const Variable3 = true;

Notice how we can store all sorts of stuff without worrying about declaring their types in JavaScript. It's one of the reasons JavaScript is a popular choice for beginners.

Arrays

Arrays are a basically just a group of variables stored in one container ( A container is what ? a variable , So an array is also just a variable ) , now again since JavaScript is easy with datatypes it is not considered an error to store variables of different datatypeslet

for example :

myArray = [1 , 2, 4 , "Name"];

Objects in JavaScript

Objects play a significant role, especially in the world of OOP : object-oriented programming (which we'll talk about in another post). For now, let's focus on understanding what objects are and how they mirror real-world objects.

In our everyday world, objects possess characteristics or properties. Take a car, for instance; it boasts attributes like its color, speed rate, and make.

So, how do we represent a car in JavaScript? A regular variable won't quite cut it, and neither will an array. The answer lies in using an object.

const Car = { color: "red", speedRate: "200km", make: "Range Rover" };

In this example, we've encapsulated the car's properties within an object called Car. This structure is not only intuitive but also aligns with how real-world objects are conceptualized and represented in JavaScript.

Variable Scope

There are three variable scopes : global scope, local scope, and function scope. Let's break it down in plain terms.

Global Scope: Think of global scope as the wild west of variables. When you declare a variable here, it's like planting a flag that says, "I'm available everywhere in the code!" No need for any special enclosures or curly braces.

Local Scope: Picture local scope as a cozy room with its own rules. When you create a variable inside a pair of curly braces, like this:

//Not here { const Variable1 = true; //Variable1 can only be used here } //Neither here

Variable1 becomes a room-bound secret. You can't use it anywhere else in the code

Function Scope: When you declare a variable inside a function (don't worry, we'll cover functions soon), it's a member of an exclusive group. This means you can only name-drop it within that function. .

So, variable scope is all about where you place your variables and where they're allowed to be used.

Adding in user input

To capture user input in JavaScript, you can use various methods and techniques depending on the context, such as web forms, text fields, or command-line interfaces.We’ll only talk for now about HTML forms

HTML Forms:

You can create HTML forms using the <;form> element and capture user input using various input elements like text fields, radio buttons, checkboxes, and more.

JavaScript can then be used to access and process the user's input.

Functions in JavaScript

Think of a function as a helpful individual with a specific task. Whenever you need that task performed in your code, you simply call upon this capable "person" to get the job done.

Declaring a Function: Declaring a function is straightforward. You define it like this:

function functionName() { // The code that defines what the function does goes here }

Then, when you need the function to carry out its task, you call it by name:

functionName();

Using Functions in HTML: Functions are often used in HTML to handle events. But what exactly is an event? It's when a user interacts with something on a web page, like clicking a button, following a link, or interacting with an image.

Event Handling: JavaScript helps us determine what should happen when a user interacts with elements on a webpage. Here's how you might use it:

HTML:

<button onclick="FunctionName()" id="btnEvent">Click me</button>

JavaScript:

function FunctionName() { var toHandle = document.getElementById("btnEvent"); // Once I've identified my button, I can specify how to handle the click event here }

In this example, when the user clicks the "Click me" button, the JavaScript function FunctionName() is called, and you can specify how to handle that event within the function.

Arrow functions : is a type of functions that was introduced in ES6, you can read more about it in the link below

If Statements

These simple constructs come into play in your code, no matter how advanced your projects become.

If Statements Demystified: Let's break it down. "If" is precisely what it sounds like: if something holds true, then do something. You define a condition within parentheses, and if that condition evaluates to true, the code enclosed in curly braces executes.

If statements are your go-to tool for handling various scenarios, including error management, addressing specific cases, and more.

Writing an If Statement:

if (Variable === "help") { console.log("Send help"); // The console.log() function outputs information to the console }

In this example, if the condition inside the parentheses (in this case, checking if the Variable is equal to "help") is true, the code within the curly braces gets executed.

Else and Else If Statements

Else: When the "if" condition is not met, the "else" part kicks in. It serves as a safety net, ensuring your program doesn't break and allowing you to specify what should happen in such cases.

Else If: Now, what if you need to check for a particular condition within a series of possibilities? That's where "else if" steps in. It allows you to examine and handle specific cases that require unique treatment.

Styling Elements with JavaScript

This is the beginner-friendly approach to changing the style of elements in JavaScript. It involves selecting an element using its ID or class, then making use of the .style.property method to set the desired styling property.

Example:

Let's say you have an HTML button with the ID "myButton," and you want to change its background color to red using JavaScript. Here's how you can do it:

HTML: <button id="myButton">Click me</button>

JavaScript:

// Select the button element by its ID const buttonElement = document.getElementById("myButton"); // Change the background color property buttonElement.style.backgroundColor = "red";

In this example, we first select the button element by its ID using document.getElementById("myButton"). Then, we use .style.backgroundColor to set the background color property of the button to "red." This straightforward approach allows you to dynamically change the style of HTML elements using JavaScript.

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blubberquark · 2 years ago

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Why Not Write Cryptography

I learned Python in high school in 2003. This was unusual at the time. We were part of a pilot project, testing new teaching materials. The official syllabus still expected us to use PASCAL. In order to satisfy the requirements, we had to learn PASCAL too, after Python. I don't know if PASCAL is still standard.

Some of the early Python programming lessons focused on cryptography. We didn't really learn anything about cryptography itself then, it was all just toy problems to demonstrate basic programming concepts like loops and recursion. Beginners can easily implement some old, outdated ciphers like Caesar, Vigenère, arbitrary 26-letter substitutions, transpositions, and so on.

The Vigenère cipher will be important. It goes like this: First, in order to work with letters, we assign numbers from 0 to 25 to the 26 letters of the alphabet, so A is 0, B is 1, C is 2 and so on. In the programs we wrote, we had to strip out all punctuation and spaces, write everything in uppercase and use the standard transliteration rules for Ä, Ö, Ü, and ß. That's just the encoding part. Now comes the encryption part. For every letter in the plain text, we add the next letter from the key, modulo 26, round robin style. The key is repeated after we get tot he end. Encrypting "HELLOWORLD" with the key "ABC" yields ["H"+"A", "E"+"B", "L"+"C", "L"+"A", "O"+"B", "W"+"C", "O"+"A", "R"+"B", "L"+"C", "D"+"A"], or "HFNLPYOLND". If this short example didn't click for you, you can look it up on Wikipedia and blame me for explaining it badly.

Then our teacher left in the middle of the school year, and a different one took over. He was unfamiliar with encryption algorithms. He took us through some of the exercises about breaking the Caesar cipher with statistics. Then he proclaimed, based on some back-of-the-envelope calculations, that a Vigenère cipher with a long enough key, with the length unknown to the attacker, is "basically uncrackable". You can't brute-force a 20-letter key, and there are no significant statistical patterns.

I told him this wasn't true. If you re-use a Vigenère key, it's like re-using a one time pad key. At the time I just had read the first chapters of Bruce Schneier's "Applied Cryptography", and some pop history books about cold war spy stuff. I knew about the problem with re-using a one-time pad. A one time pad is the same as if your Vigenère key is as long as the message, so there is no way to make any inferences from one letter of the encrypted message to another letter of the plain text. This is mathematically proven to be completely uncrackable, as long as you use the key only one time, hence the name. Re-use of one-time pads actually happened during the cold war. Spy agencies communicated through number stations and one-time pads, but at some point, the Soviets either killed some of their cryptographers in a purge, or they messed up their book-keeping, and they re-used some of their keys. The Americans could decrypt the messages.

Here is how: If you have message $A$ and message $B$, and you re-use the key $K$, then an attacker can take the encrypted messages $A+K$ and $B+K$, and subtract them. That creates $(A+K) - (B+K) = A - B + K - K = A - B$. If you re-use a one-time pad, the attacker can just filter the key out and calculate the difference between two plaintexts.

My teacher didn't know that. He had done a quick back-of-the-envelope calculation about the time it would take to brute-force a 20 letter key, and the likelihood of accidentally arriving at something that would resemble the distribution of letters in the German language. In his mind, a 20 letter key or longer was impossible to crack. At the time, I wouldn't have known how to calculate that probability.

When I challenged his assertion that it would be "uncrackable", he created two messages that were written in German, and pasted them into the program we had been using in class, with a randomly generated key of undisclosed length. He gave me the encrypted output.

Instead of brute-forcing keys, I decided to apply what I knew about re-using one time pads. I wrote a program that takes some of the most common German words, and added them to sections of $(A-B)$. If a word was equal to a section of $B$, then this would generate a section of $A$. Then I used a large spellchecking dictionary to see if the section of $A$ generated by guessing a section of $B$ contained any valid German words. If yes, it would print the guessed word in $B$, the section of $A$, and the corresponding section of the key. There was only a little bit of key material that was common to multiple results, but that was enough to establish how long they key was. From there, I modified my program so that I could interactively try to guess words and it would decrypt the rest of the text based on my guess. The messages were two articles from the local newspaper.

When I showed the decrypted messages to my teacher the next week, got annoyed, and accused me of cheating. Had I installed a keylogger on his machine? Had I rigged his encryption program to leak key material? Had I exploited the old Python random number generator that isn't really random enough for cryptography (but good enough for games and simulations)?

Then I explained my approach. My teacher insisted that this solution didn't count, because it relied on guessing words. It would never have worked on random numeric data. I was just lucky that the messages were written in a language I speak. I could have cheated by using a search engine to find the newspaper articles on the web.

Now the lesson you should take away from this is not that I am smart and teachers are sore losers.

Lesson one: Everybody can build an encryption scheme or security system that he himself can't defeat. That doesn't mean others can't defeat it. You can also create an secret alphabet to protect your teenage diary from your kid sister. It's not practical to use that as an encryption scheme for banking. Something that works for your diary will in all likelihood be inappropriate for online banking, never mind state secrets. You never know if a teenage diary won't be stolen by a determined thief who thinks it holds the secret to a Bitcoin wallet passphrase, or if someone is re-using his banking password in your online game.

Lesson two: When you build a security system, you often accidentally design around an "intended attack". If you build a lock to be especially pick-proof, a burglar can still kick in the door, or break a window. Or maybe a new variation of the old "slide a piece of paper under the door and push the key through" trick works. Non-security experts are especially susceptible to this. Experts in one domain are often blind to attacks/exploits that make use of a different domain. It's like the physicist who saw a magic show and thought it must be powerful magnets at work, when it was actually invisible ropes.

Lesson three: Sometimes a real world problem is a great toy problem, but the easy and didactic toy solution is a really bad real world solution. Encryption was a fun way to teach programming, not a good way to teach encryption. There are many problems like that, like 3D rendering, Chess AI, and neural networks, where the real-world solution is not just more sophisticated than the toy solution, but a completely different architecture with completely different data structures. My own interactive codebreaking program did not work like modern approaches works either.

Lesson four: Don't roll your own cryptography. Don't even implement a known encryption algorithm. Use a cryptography library. Chances are you are not Bruce Schneier or Dan J Bernstein. It's harder than you thought. Unless you are doing a toy programming project to teach programming, it's not a good idea. If you don't take this advice to heart, a teenager with something to prove, somebody much less knowledgeable but with more time on his hands, might cause you trouble.

#programming #cryptography #learn programming #teaching programming

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