#I’m still trying to find ‘my people’ in college but having this lil community of nerds makes me feel more at home | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

noteguk · 4 years ago

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bad behavior | jjk | m

This is in the same universe as “bad influence.” It can, however, be read as a stand-alone.

— summary; in which staying late to volunteer at a self-help meeting was the best decision you made in a while.

— contents and warnings; smut, the endless adventures of badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, public sex (in a church…), dirty talk, fingering, degradation (name calling) but also praise, unprotected sex, clothed sex, creampie, cum play, there is a window and also reflections, rough sex, cockwarming, jk being a lil shit because that’s his main personality trait, jk smokes (only mentioned), enemies to fuckbuddies: dawn of the first day

— words; 8.2k

— author’s note; for the anon that asked how their first time was like ;) join me as we explore the lore of this godforsaken couple

It was your mother’s idea for you to find a new place to volunteer. According to her, it had been a long time since you experienced “the invigorating energy of community work” — last time was when you were trying to level up your college application — and it could really “soothe your anxious soul” during the trying times of college finals. Apparently one tutoring program and two research projects weren’t enough to distract you, but you could see where she was coming from.

In the end, you accepted. The old places you used to volunteer in had either shut off their programs or were just too far away from college for you to consider. At first, you decided to follow your mother’s suggestion and tried to work with children — “small miracles”, as she called them — in a local daycare. Which ended up being a terrible idea.

You liked giving back to the community, you really did, but it wasn’t long until you realized that working with infants hasn’t been your wisest decision, and that children weren’t miracles at all. You got tired of going home covered in paint and with pieces of playdough entangled in your hair, and that was when you weren’t unlucky enough to get hit with other, less clean fluids.

So you eventually gave up — both on the daycare and on the faint idea of one day going into pediatrics — and searched for a new place. After having to yell your way through retirement homes, and getting fed up with washing people’s sidewalks, you finally settled in a program that was flexible and light enough for your intense college hours: preparing (and then later cleaning up) a room that was reserved in a local church for weekly meetings.

The entire ordeal took about two to three hours off your day, and more than half of it was spent as free time: waiting for the meeting to end, cramming piles of information in a small room next door. You didn’t really know what the meetings were about since they changed practically every month — they were, at first, a support group for teenage mothers, then it became an AA meeting, then a group for drug users trying to quit. Lately, you were starting to think that the church just gave away the room for whoever had the money to rent it, so it wasn’t a surprise when it was reserved for a motivational speaker to give confidence lessons.

You had researched the guy, some old dude with an unpronounceable name and a sketchy background, and found exactly the type of person you had expected. Yes, you were in the house of Christ, but you were still being heavily judgmental of the fact that he was giving those talks when he had no qualifications whatsoever, and was probably making bank off all the self-help books he regurgitated at least twice a year to prey on vulnerable people. You did share your worries with the administrative office of the church, but they ultimately fell on deaf ears, and you gave up on the idea of kicking his ass out of the holy grounds anytime soon.

It was after one of those pseudo-motivational talks that you walked into the empty room, ready to clean everything up before rushing back to your place, where your roommate had promised to greet you with some wonderful takeout. The chairs were still placed in a circle on the center of the room, where they had been since forever, and you made sure to align them perfectly before you moved on to the litter that had been thrown around the place.

One good thing about those self-help meetings was that they were a lot cleaner than a lot of other attendees, so the “picking up the trash until your back started to hurt” part passed by surprisingly fast. You had just moved on to the snack table, analyzing what you could still save, when your soul almost left your body.

“Hey, you,” you heard a known voice behind you. “What are you doing in here?”

You swiftly turned around, heart thumping violently against your ribcage. You didn’t know how you hadn’t let out the biggest, most blood-curdling scream ever, but that was just the first of many miracles of the night. “Jesus Christ,” you wheezed out, taking one hand to your chest. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like this.” You swallowed dry, some part of your brain recalling that he had asked you a question. “And I’m volunteering here.”

“I didn’t sneak up on you, you’re just jumpy.” Jungkook scoffed, leaning against the doorframe with that stupid playful smirk curling up on his lips. You didn’t know they allowed demons inside the church. “And of course you are.” He rolled his eyes.

Maybe a few months back, his mocking tone would’ve stung a bit more. However, you had been tutoring Jungkook for about three months then, suffering through endless sessions of his whining and complaining, and you’ve grown used to his passive-aggressive antics already. You learned that Jungkook was a shark seeking for blood, waiting for any crack that would allow him to jump into a perverse little joke — about how you behaved, your priorities, or even the color of your highlighter. You, of course, always stood your ground and threw his comments right back at him — which was his initial plan, as you’ve come to realize. Jungkook enjoyed playfully arguing with you, and you thought that it was another level of strangeness and masochism you simply didn’t have time to dissect.

Still, Jungkook (shockingly) wasn’t the terrible person you once thought he was. Every once in a while — when he was trying to talk you out of teaching him — the conversations you two would have were actually mostly pleasant, and he wasn’t awful to hang around when he dropped the whole badass persona to act like a real human being. You would even dare to say that Jungkook could be actually funny at times, and not in the bitter, sarcastic way he usually was. Sometimes, you dared to think, he could actually be reasonably nice. And also kind of cute. Even hot.

But you would never actually admit any of that out loud. Or even to yourself, really.

“And you?” You asked, turning back around to face the table full of half-eaten food. That looked like a battlefield, and you could already tell that there were only a few survivors left standing. “What are you doing here? Repenting?”

Jungkook chuckled dryly. “You wish. My parents want me to quit smoking,” he said. You could not see him, but you could hear him walking closer to you as you fumbled with the large Tupperware. “We settled on this crap instead of a forced intervention.”

You scoffed. Most of the food before you was unsalvageable — some of the cupcakes had been bitten once and then placed back, and you wondered how someone like that could function in society. “You don’t seem very motivated to quit,” you mumbled.

Jungkook clicked his tongue. “I don’t really care.”

His voice was much closer to you, and you felt the air leaving your lungs for a pitiful instant. You convinced yourself you had only gotten scared again. “You should care about the growing possibility of lung cancer.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s not really on the top of my list of priorities at the moment.”

“And what is?” You asked.

“Amongst other things…” he trailed off and, suddenly, he was standing besides you, pointing at the chaotic pile of sweets. “I actually came back to grab another one of those cupcakes. The chocolate ones are great.”

You didn’t know why, but his comment broke the odd tension that you didn’t even know that was there, clicking you back into your previous mentality — the one that you just wanted to finish cleaning up so you could leave soon. “All yours,” you told him, “grab as many as you want.”

Jungkook hummed in satisfaction, reaching out to grab one special brown cupcake — an untouched one, thankfully. “I love when you talk dirty.” He almost moaned before shoving the cupcake inside his mouth, taking a huge bite off it. Dramatically, Jungkook rolled his eyes and sighed in delight. “These are fucking great.”

You chuckled, glancing at his direction. Jungkook was dressed in all black, like he usually was, and you were starting to recognize a newfound admiration towards his constant use of leather jackets. What? He looked good. “I’m glad the self-help sessions are paying off,” you commented, swiftly placing the cupcakes inside the transparent container.

Jungkook was paying attention to your actions now, like he noticed you were there working for the first time. “What are you doing with the rest?”

“The church will probably donate it, give it to the homeless or something.” You shrugged. “Or they’ll eat it, I don’t know. I just clean up the place and leave.”

Jungkook laughed at that, taking another monstrous bite from his cupcake and throwing himself on one of the nearby chairs. Your eye twitched a little at the thought that he had ruined your perfect circle, but you’d have to fix that on your way out. “Sounds absurdly boring,” he sang. “And they’re not even paying you.”

You sighed. “After all the places I’ve volunteered in, boring is a blessing,” you told him. You had just placed five hot dogs in the container, and you were starting to wonder if it would be a good idea to feed people in need with those suspicious sausages. “But, yeah, you probably don’t care about any of that.”

“You don’t know what I care about,” Jungkook said matter-of-factly. You didn’t know if he was trying to tease you, but his voice came out so soft and monotone that you couldn’t really be mad about it. It was true, after all: you didn’t actually know what he cared about. Sometimes you thought that he could read you better than you could read him. “Want me to stay here with you? This place is probably empty already.”

You could not hold back your laugh at that, turning around so you could look at him. “Are you offering to be my bodyguard? In a church?”

Jungkook pouted. There was a thin line of chocolate on the side of his lips, which he quickly licked clean. “I’m trying to be nice.”

You giggled, turning back towards the disgusting food. The rest was mostly trash, but you were happy enough with the amount you had managed to find in a good state. “That’s new.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked. “I’m always nice.”

“Always is a strong word.” You smiled, closing the lid of the Tupperware. You had managed to fill three small containers with the leftovers and, honestly, that was a big victory. “But you can stay or you can leave, I don’t mind. I’m almost done anyways.”

He frowned. “Is that your answer?”

You turned around. “What? You want me to beg for your company?” You smiled. “You’re mistaken if you think I’d ever do that.”

“I’m staying.” Jungkook crumpled up the piece of cupcake wrapping and threw it in the trash can besides your body. He watched you for a moment as you started to throw the leftovers away, your back turned to him and a distracted look on your face. When he broke the silence again, you were throwing the last piece of bread in the bin. “Why are you volunteering?”

“Because I like giving back to the community.”

Jungkook sneered at your words. “Seriously now. Don’t lie, we’re in a church.”

“I do, actually,” you stood your ground. There was a vague sound of crickets coming from the half-open window and the low buzzing of the fluorescent lights above you, but, other than that, the city was covered in absolute silence. Perhaps that was why you felt so at peace. “But my mom told me it would be a good thing to keep myself relaxed. You know, take my mind off college stuff.”

He hummed, and you heard him getting up from the chair. “You always do what your mom tells you?”

You met his gaze. “Didn’t your parents make you come here?”

He smiled. “Not the point.”

Before you could hold yourself back, your lips were curling up. Again: Jungkook wasn’t absolutely awful to be around when he actually acted like a human being. “When she says something I agree with, yes,” you told him. “My ego isn’t bruised when it comes to following someone’s idea.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re saying that mine is?”

“I didn’t say that.” You smirked and turned back to the table. You started piling up the used plastic cups, already eyeing all the used plates, forks and knives that you’d have to throw away. The daycare had better eating manners than that. “Thought we were talking about me.”

“We were,” Jungkook agreed. One of his inked hands moved to the table, and you were about to tell him that he could eat more of the cupcakes when you realized that he had started to reach for the discardable plates, throwing them away. You really didn’t think he’d help you. “Finals are coming up, though, and you care about that shit. Shouldn’t you be using this time to study or something?”

“I study while you’re out here listening to becoming your real self or, I don’t know... waking up the giant within,” you said. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

He hummed, his nose cringing up at the disgusting remains of food that stuck to the plastic forks. Jungkook seriously didn’t know how you could do that for fun. “You know there are better ways to relax than cleaning up a dusty room, right?”

“Probably,” you agreed. The cups were already in the trash, alongside with the plates, and there were only a few crumpled up napkins to get rid of before you tasted the sweet nectar of freedom. “But here I am. That’s what I chose for myself.”

“Literally any other option would’ve been better,” Jungkook pressed on. “Isn’t that obnoxious friend of yours in cheer or something?”

“Who? Jisoo?” You smiled at him. No one had ever called her obnoxious, but you couldn’t say that the title didn’t fit. Jisoo could be really… intense when it came to standing up for what she believed in. “She is. She invited me to join her already, if that’s what you’re gonna ask, but it’s not really my thing.”

“It’s a shame,” he mumbled, leaning against the table. It was a beautiful miracle how clean that room had become just by getting rid of the piles of gross food, and you had proudly thrown the last piece of paper inside the trash bin when Jungkook spoke up again. “You’d look really hot in that outfit.”

You stopped in your tracks, taking a second to digest the claim he had so mindlessly thrown your way. Just like all-things-Jungkook, a pleasant conversation could not last long, so you weren’t even surprised that he managed to ruin that talk with such a fuckboy-esque comment.

Also like all-things-Jungkook, he managed to awaken a reaction out of you that you didn’t even know could be there. With a faint heat in your cheeks and a frown blossoming amongst your features, you actually felt a little bit of... satisfaction with the fact that he thought that you’d look hot in that skimpy outfit. At the same time, you wanted to slap yourself for falling into his charms so easily.

In that conflicting turmoil of emotions, all you could say was a monotone, “You cannot be serious right now.”

Even if you kind of wanted him to be serious.

“I’m being dead serious,” Jungkook didn’t back down, much to the elation of your ego. You felt like a schoolgirl being recognized by her crush, and the idea alone made your stomach curl onto itself. What the hell were you even thinking about? Yeah, Jungkook was pretty hot, but he was also kind of a douche and you didn’t want to get involved with that mess of a person. Or at least that was what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I mean…” he continued, “you’re even rocking this knee-level dress right now, can’t even imagine how you’d look if—“

“You can shut up now, Jungkook, thanks,” you interrupted him. Because you didn’t know how to act when he was so blatantly flirting with you, you switched back to the same passive-aggressive behavior that you had given him for the past three months. Call it self-preservation, call it panic, but your mind simply didn’t know where to go from there. “And I’m also done here, so you can skidaddle back to whatever swamp you came out of.”

“Awn, don’t be mean, princess.” He pouted. Jungkook was a master at getting you worked up, and you had just given that to him on a silver platter. Maybe if you had mock-flirted back, he would’ve baked away. You would never know. “I was just fucking with you, you’re too easy to tease.”

You pressed your lips together, hip touching the corner of the now empty table. “You were pretty much harassing me,” you said playfully.

“I was not.” Jungkook smirked, shoving his hands inside the pockets of his pants. When had the two of you gotten so close? There was barely any space between your chests. “But it’s okay, I’m not gonna compliment you anymore, don’t worry. You don’t have to be so defensive.”

“I’m not being defensive,” you said, defensive.

“What, is it the church setting?” He raised his eyebrows, taking a look around. “Is it making you uncomfortable?”

“No,” you answered, crossing your arms before your chest. Jungkook followed the movement and his gaze got stuck on the shape of your breasts for a second too long, making a newfound wave of heat rise up to your cheeks. “Not as much as you’re trying to make me uncomfortable right now.”

He chuckled. “You do look cute when you’re shy,” Jungkook teased, taking a step towards you, and you took another one back, pretending you were just going to lean against the table. You sat on it in a weird diagonal position, with one leg still on the ground and the other dangling over the edge. Jungkook was so close that, when he spoke again, voice just above a whisper, you could feel his breath on your skin. “If you don’t want me here, just ask me to go and I’ll go.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. The atmosphere was filled with electricity, your body drowning in the warmth of his presence, the sharp seriousness in his dark eyes, and you could not bring yourself to say anything. Did you want him to leave?

No, you realized in a rush of adrenaline, you didn’t want him to leave at all.

Jungkook raised one of his eyebrows. “Hm? Nothing?” He smirked, placing himself between your legs. Every nerve of your body was screaming for you to touch him, to just wrap his mouth with yours, and you simply could not respond to any of its commands. “You’re full of surprises.”

You found your voice at that comment, heart hammering against your chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a smart girl, you can figure it out.” Jungkook placed one strand of your hair behind your ear, his gaze flickering down to your chest. From where he stood, he could see the beautiful mounds of your breasts peeking under the fabric, licking his lips at the sight. “Can I at least say that I like your dress?”

Jungkook’s palm slithered up your knee before you could even react, moving towards your inner thigh and raising your dress along with it. His touch was electrifying, and you found yourself craving more of it, a sigh caught on your throat at the tenderness of his hot skin.

“Something tells me that your compliment isn’t so innocent,” you told him, leaning your head back slightly so you could hold his gaze. “Aren’t you gonna complete that and say that I would look better without it?”

Jungkook chuckled. “The idea is compelling, I’ll admit it,” he said, rubbing soft circles on your skin. His other hand slithered around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “But don’t need to take it off to fuck you.”

Your eyes grew wide at that, brain short-circuiting. You frankly couldn’t believe that was happening — the fact that Jungkook was so shamelessly trying (and honestly succeeding) to initiate sex with you. In a fucking church too, of all places. “What- what did you say?”

“You heard what I said.” His stare didn’t falter. Jungkook was looking at you like he could eat you whole, and you seriously wouldn’t mind if he tried to. You'd deal with the social and psychological implications of that another time. “Just tell me to stop and I’ll do it, princess. No hard feelings, promise.”

This time, you spoke out and the firmness and certainty in your voice surprised even yourself. “I don’t want you to stop.”

“No?” His voice sounded like honey, so deep and melodic even through the thick layers of his sarcasm. You had never heard him get so serious, so focused, and the thought that it was all for you was igniting a fire inside your guts. “You wanna get fucked in a church?”

You bit your lip, blinking up at him. The point was: you wanted Jungkook, of all people, to fuck you. The fact that it was in a church was just the cherry on top, and you didn’t care about it as much as you should — your mom would be weeping blood if she knew what was going on, but you weren’t planning on telling anything to anybody. “And what if I do?” You asked back teasingly.

Jungkook smiled, knocking the breath right out of you. You could only hope that you didn’t look as horny as you felt, because your pride was still on the line. “Told you that you were full of surprises.” He pushed one of your legs open, making you lose your support on the floor. Now, both of your feet were dangling off the edge, body trapped between his strong arms and thighs on either side of him. “Are you a virgin, baby?”

You shook your head, and your voice reached you a bit later. “No.”

“Naughty,” Jungkook said, leaning in. He stared at you like a lion stalking its prey, his gaze lingering on your parted lips before, at last, he tilted his head to the side, deciding to move towards your neck instead. “But if you have the taste I think you do, you probably had some lame missionary sex with some goodie-two shoes.”

When he started kissing your neck, you almost forgot to give him a response. You had to bite your lip to suppress a moan, instead producing a low, shaky sigh. “And if I did? What’s the problem with some lame missionary sex?”

“No need to get mad, I’m on your side here,” Jungkook said, one of his hands navigating up your waist, between the valley of your breasts, before grabbing your boob. That time, you couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped you. “Did he make you cum?”

“Sometimes,” you said, slightly flustered. You didn’t think you’d be discussing your sexual history with Jungkook, but, well, there you were. “He was alright.”

“Only sometimes?” Jungkook chuckled, the vibrations of his deep timbre vibrating through the sensitive skin of your neck, his thumb grazing your nipple. The heat between your legs only grew, your entire body practically begging to feel more of him. “That’s a shame, I could do better.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t start getting cocky.”

“I never stopped being cocky,” he responded without hesitation. Well, he was right. “And I do have a good track record.”

“Doubt it,” you said, the ghost of a smile lingering on your lips. You knew that you were playing a dangerous game, pressing right at the weak spots of his inflated ego to see how he would react. Perhaps you’d be luckier trying to poke a bear with a short stick. “You wouldn’t know the difference between a real and fake orgasm even if it hit you in the face.”

Jungkook leaned back and looked at you for an instant. You knew he had caught onto your challenge straight away. He liked it as much as you did, there was no doubt about that. “Let’s see, shall we?” he asked. There was no denying the devilish aura that was all around him now, suffocating you with its tempting heat. “How long do we have?”

“I’m locking up the room tonight,” you said, watching as his eyes sparked with an emotion you could not decipher. “But I wanna get home before ten. Have homework.”

You could see him fighting against the natural urge to ridicule you for saying something like that at such an odd time, but, at the end, he managed to avoid it. “More than enough time.” Jungkook placed one hand on the back of your neck, gaze darting hungrily toward your lips. “Come here.”

And then his mouth was on yours, and everything else was white noise. Jungkook kissed you much slower than you had anticipated, taking his sweet time caressing your mouth with his; hands exploring the curves of your body and teasing their way underneath your dress. He sighed heavily against your mouth when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, his soft tongue poking out and entering your mouth perfectly. Jungkook was a good kisser, you had to admit it, and he got your knees weak sooner than you’d like.

His body was hot and firm against yours and you could feel the outline of his abs underneath your fingers as you trailed your hands down his torso; his quick heartbeat drumming on your palms. Jungkook’s breathing got heavier as you hooked your fingers on the hem of his pants and tugged him toward you. Instantly you noticed the outline of his hard cock against your inner thigh.

Then, something switched. Just as you had reached out to touch his hardness, squeezing it lightly underneath your fingers, Jungkook groaned against your mouth and bit down on your lip. You had barely any time to react before he was pulling away from the kiss, gaze darkening.

“Such a tease,” he mumbled hoarsely, his breath hitting your mouth in soft waves. His hand was hovering over your heat, his middle finger pressing down on your sensitive nub, making you whimper. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

Jungkook was much quicker than your thoughts and, within a second, the motion of your panties being pushed aside made you fumble closer to him; your hands holding tightly onto his shoulders when he finally decided to touch you.

“Fuck,” he groaned next to your ear, making your mind go blank for a split second. The teasing motions of his digits brushing your entrance were enough to make you whimper, hips thrusting forward in a failed attempt to make him move further. “Look at this, you’re soaking my fingers. Wanna get fucked that bad?”

But he didn’t let you respond. The sudden intrusion of two fingers inside your pussy made your back arch, nails digging in the leather of his jacket as Jungkook opened you up. “I—” you tried to speak, but it was hard to think when he started pumping his fingers in and out of you. The sounds of your wetness were a filthy symphony filling the quiet atmosphere. “Jungkook, what—”

“God, that’s so tight,” he groaned, speaking through clenched teeth. His voice was enough to shut you up at the spot, a frail moan dripping from your lips. “Relax, baby, you’re too tense. Let me take care of you, alright?”

You nodded, eyes drifting shut as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. You hated to admit it, but Jungkook was already winning against your ex by a long shot: the way his digits brushed inside you, gradually moving apart to stretch you, got you searching — begging — for more. You were sure you could cum around his fingers and, when he curled them up and they dragged against your sweet spot, the idea became a lot more palpable.

“Jungkook, you’re taking too long, I’m gonna cum like this,” you complained, chest rising and falling under the waves of your upcoming orgasm. You could feel it building up in your stomach, ready to snap, and you didn’t want it to happen around his fingers. “I wanna feel you.”

Jungkook breathed out at your needy request, placing a kiss against your jaw. “I’m just getting you ready for my cock, baby,” he said. A loud moan dripped from you when he unceremoniously added a third finger, your legs trembling on either side of his body. “I don’t know if you can take it.”

You scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you said, only half aware of the fact that your voice sounded more like a whimper than a serious comment. “I can.”

He smirked wickedly. You really were pushing his buttons. “We’ll see about that,” Jungkook responded.

Within a second, right as your orgasm was about to wash over you, he removed his fingers from your pussy. The frustrated moan you let out was quickly swollen by him, his mouth rogue against yours and the sweetness of his tongue intoxicating you — probably those stupid cupcakes, you thought.

“Turn around for me,” he asked.

You quickly did as he requested, putting your feet on the ground before turning your back to him, hands leaning on the table. Jungkook placed one hand on the curve of your spine, pushing you down until you had your chest against the surface, ass perked up and pussy in full display for him. There was a gush of cold air against your flesh when he pulled up the fabric of your dress and tossed it over your waist, exposing your lower body for him.

The boy hummed at the sight, one of his legs kicking your feet apart so he could position himself in the middle of your thighs. “You’re pretty all around,” Jungkook commented, one of his palms grazing your asscheek before grabbing it. His motion was harsh, needy; earning a whimper from you. “Knew you would be.”

Through the dense clouds of your desire, there was still some part of you that managed to make fun of that situation. “You spend your free time thinking about my ass?”

“Won’t answer until I have a lawyer present,” he joked.

You felt his fingers hooking around the fabric of your panties, pushing it further to the side so you had your cunt fully exposed for him to see. The drumming of your heartbeat almost drowned out the low groan he produced at the sight of your flushed heat.

“Princess, your pussy is dripping so much…” Jungkook trailed off, one of his fingers tracing a line between your lips. He felt the urge to eat you out, to lick you completely clean and make you cum on his tongue, but he decided that would have to wait for a different time. “Is this all for me?”

“Yeah, all for you,” you said, weak. There was a thundering exasperation building up inside you, motivated from your denied orgasm and from the way that Jungkook was taking his sweet time.

“Good girl,” he mumbled and your chest was filled with pride. “Can’t wait to fuck it.”

“Then don’t wait,” you practically begged. “Just rush.”

He removed his finger from your heat. “Shh… be patient,” Jungkook told you and you swore you could practically hear the smile in his voice. You could hear him shuffling behind you, the sound of his zipper opening echoing around that still room. “I’m gonna give you whatever you want.”

You whined at the abrupt feeling of his warm cock rubbing between your folds, its tip hitting your clit after every languid thrust. “Fuck,” you cried out, shaky. Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said that he was big, his length was so thick that you were starting to get second thoughts whether you could take it or not. Not that you would ever admit it out loud. “Just put it in, Jungkook.”

But Jungkook was having way more fun just teasing you. “Pussy’s so wet for me.” He breathed out, his hands tightening around your hips. You felt him throb between your folds, and the sensation got you searching for air. “You’re soaking my cock, baby. You want it that much?”

“Y-Yeah.”

Jungkook hummed, leaning in so he could place a kiss on your shoulder. “I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve to be fucked, princess,” he promised, his length still rubbing between your folds. He was so hard and heavy that your mind was spinning, your lungs drowning in expectation. “Gonna fuck you so well that you’re never going to forget it. Do you want that?”

“Yes,” your voice was a pathetic moan, and you hated your body for betraying you so easily. “Yes, please.”

After another pec on your shoulder, Jungkook leaned back. “Be loud for me, alright?” He asked. “Can you do that for me?”

You swallowed hard — what were the chances that someone would hear you? You had no idea. “Yeah, whatever you want, just fuck me.”

“Whatever I want? That’s a dangerous thing to say.” He moved around behind you, making you flinch when you felt his cock align with your dripping entrance. The anticipation was driving you insane. “Might have to see if you’re up for it another time.”

There was an answer somewhere in your mind — you could swear there was — but it was quickly forgotten the second that Jungkook pushed himself inside you. The drag of his cock was a delicious torture, streching you out and filling you up to the brim until you were shaking under his touch, both of you moaning at the sensation.

“Oh my god.” You breathed out, hands turning into fists on the table. Your cheek was pressed against the polished wood, hot breath creating small white clouds on the surface.

Jungkook released a shaky sigh when he felt you clenching around him, your body desperately trying to move closer to him. “Fuck, baby,” he hissed, his hands holding onto your hips for dear life. Gradually, he moved himself away from your pussy just so he could slam back inside, marveling on the way you trembled at the feeling, crying out his name in the prettiest of whimpers. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. Squeezing my cock so well.”

Took you only an instant to realize that you were absolutely addicted to the feeling of his cock inside you, the heavenly push of his hardness in and out of you as he slowly started to set a pace. “Oh my god, I’m—” a pitiful hiccup interrupted you, turning your voice into a sharp cry. “That’s so good, Jungkook.”

Jungkook chuckled behind you, his thrusts starting to pick up speed. Your eyes closed in endless bliss, every part of your brain focused on the sensation of his fat length stretching you up. “Told you I’d be, not my fault you didn’t believe me,” he said, but you could tell that his confidence had started to wear itself thin — he, too, seemed to be much more focused on the way that your bodies met. “Do you touch yourself, princess?”

You almost didn’t know how to answer him, a deep heat rushing up to your cheeks. “W-What?”

“When you’re alone, baby,” he practically hissed. You were bouncing on the table then, your body jerking up and down as he fully pistoned his cock inside your heat. “Do you play with your little pussy?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered, embarrassed. “S-Sometimes.”

“Show me how you do it,” he requested in-between huffs, lust dripping from every syllable. Jungkook spoke to you like a siren, effortlessly inducting you to comply with everything he wanted. “Come on. Don’t be shy, I wanna see you play with yourself for me.”

You didn’t even know if what you were feeling was shyness, but there was a veil of hesitation that covered your actions. As your hands moved downwards, one of them clenching around the fabric of your dress and pulling it up while the other trailed over your mound, you felt strangely vulnerable, exposed. At the same time, you wanted to do what he asked you to, wanted him to wash you over with compliments until your mind was going blank.

So you closed your eyes and focused on the sensation of two of your fingers coating themselves in your wetness, then their pressure on your clit. You whined at the feeling, pleasure exploding in your veins as you started to rub yourself, tracing small circles on your sensitive spot. There was no way you could ever reach that sensation again, the sweet motions of your fingers combining perfectly with the thrusts of his hard, fat cock inside you. You were doomed.

“That’s it… just like that, baby,” Jungkook whispered, obsessed with the sensation of your walls fluttering around him. You had gotten so tight that he thought he would see heaven at any second now. “Feels good?”

“Y-Yeah, so good...” you struggled to get out, “feels amazing, Jungkook.”

“So perfect for me,” his praise shot straight up to your core, making you mewl under him. God, the way that you were tightening around him was going to drive him insane. “You feel so fucking good, I can’t stop fucking you.”

Jungkook took one of his hands to your neck, using it to guide your body upwards until you had your back pressed against his chest; his hot lips assaulting your neck. The new position made it so much easier for his cock to drill inside you, reaching even deeper and hitting sweet spots you didn’t even know you had. It wasn’t long before you were moaning out, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure overtook you.

“Just take a look at that, baby,” his voice broke you out of your hypnotized state. “Look at you. Such a good slut, just taking everything I’m giving you, touching yourself for my cock… fuck. Could watch you like this forever.”

You had to take a moment to understand what he was talking about, and then you saw it: the window. It stood silently across the room from you, half open, and the glass combined with the darkness of the night gave a perfect reflection of the two of you. You could see yourself, the mess you had become, as Jungkook pounded in and out of you and your fingers worked on your clit; the darkness of his hungry gaze as he followed the motions of your body against his.

Even if you cried out at the sight, your body freezed up a little at the thought of someone walking by and seeing that private spectacle. The possibility itself was minimal — the window gave way to the side of the land, where a big, thick fence separated it from the nearby houses; most of the ground covered by large trees and bushes — but it wasn’t zero. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the humiliation that would come from being seen like that.

He, of course, noticed your change of demeanor right away, and you could see in the faint reflection that he had smirked at that realization. “What is it? Are you worried someone is going to walk by?” Jungkook almost groaned against your ear. His cock continued to pump ferociously in and out of you, and you couldn’t even understand your own thoughts for a moment. “That someone is gonna see you get fucked like a good slut?”

“It’s not—” a moan cut your sentence short. Not like you knew where you were heading, anyways.

“No one is gonna see you like this, know why?” Jungkook was grunting, his fingers tightening around your throat. You cried out at the feeling, your cunt clenching around him in a way that got him fucking you even harder. “Cause this is all for me. Just for me.”

Then he was pushing you back on the table, your chest crashing against the wooden surface and his hands yanking you by the waist. Jungkook was fucking you so hard that your worries left you as soon as they arrived, your mind a turmoil of desires and broken exclamations that didn’t give space to anything else but him.

“You look fucking gorgeous like this, stuffed with cock,” he marveled at the sight. There was a known wave of pleasure hovering over you, ready to crash at any given moment, and you stopped rubbing yourself just so you could prolong its arrival. “Wanna see you cum for me, make a mess for me, baby.”

The words left you in a confusing, broken order, “Jungkook, I can’t… too much… can’t...”

“Shhh, you can,” he was slowly easing you into your orgasm, his cock drilling in and out of your pussy. Jungkook fucked like a machine, fast and precise, and you didn’t think you’d be able to forget that anytime soon. “You told me you could take it, so now you’re gonna take it. Don’t you wanna be good for me?”

“I- I want to… I’m so close,” you cried out, pressing your forehead against the table. You didn’t know how it hadn’t broken yet, with the way that Jungkook was fucking you so mercilessly hard. “I’m so, so close.”

“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he urged you on, his member throbbing inside you at the thought. Your legs were so weak that you knew you’d fall facedown on the floor if he wasn’t supporting your weight with his strong arms. “Be a good girl and cream my cock for me.”

And that was it. That was all that you needed to push yourself over the edge, submerging you in ecstasy and making you squeeze him so deliciously. “J-Jungkook!” You moaned out his name again and again, unsure of how loud you were being, but also not caring as much as you should. Jungkook realized he loved hearing you call his name more than anything else. “Fuck! Oh my god!”

“That’s it, baby,” he moaned back, his thrusts a sloppy, uncoordinated mess. He was hypnotized by the view of your cunt hugging him, your wetness dripping down your thighs as you rode out the last seconds of your orgasm. “Pussy’s so fucking tight, so fucking perfect— gonna cum too.”

You gasped out at the sensitivity that was starting to spread, every movement shaky as you tried to push yourself against him. “Yes, please.” You looked over your shoulder, meeting his hooded gaze. Jungkook looked like a god, his dark hair sweaty and messy and his lip trapped between his teeth. That image would plague you forever. “Cum inside me, please.”

He groaned loudly, eyes closing for a second. “Fuck, that’s so fucking hot,” he hissed, chest heaving with anticipation. You knew he was close, everything pointed to that, and all that you wanted was to see him reach his high, using your body like it was just a doll for him to fuck. “Didn’t know you’d want to be filled up with cum, princess.”

“I’m full of surprises.” You smiled — a pretty, fucked-out smile that got Jungkook grunting like a madman. “I want your cum inside me, Jungkook, please.”

“Gonna fuck you full of my cum, don’t worry— Shit.” The sounds he was making were heavily: those breathy, high-pitched moans that echoed all around you; broken by deep grunts that had your thighs shaking. Jungkook fucked himself in you like he was meant for it, throwing his head back and closing his eyes as he finally found his orgasm. “Fuck! That’s it, fuck—”

Jungkook called out your name and mixed it with praises and curses when he came, spilling himself inside your pussy. You sighed at the feeling, taking in the blissful sensation of having his hot cum spilling out of you, dripping down your legs as he continued to thrust inside you, milking out his orgasm.

At last, he started to wince from sensitivity. His body collided against your back, his heavy breathing fanning your neck as he tried to collect himself. “Fuck, baby,” he mumbled, “you’re amazing.”

“You’re not so terrible yourself.” You could not help the smile that appeared on your lips, nor the way that you melted against the surface of the table, drowning in his heat.

Still, you couldn’t stay there for much longer: it was already a miracle that no one heard the chaos going on in that room, and you weren’t trying to push your luck for the night. Especially since you had a pile of homework (and possibly — now cold — takeout) waiting for you at home.

You raised your body, leaning against your elbows. “I have to leave,” you told him, taking one of your hands to lay on top of his tattooed one, trying to ease his grip from your waist. “Now if you could just…”

“Shhh, shhh,” Jungkook hushed, unrelenting. He was much stronger than you, and your muscles were too weak for you to try and do much, so you eventually gave up. “Stop moving. Let me feel you around me for just a bit more.”

You frowned. “Why?”

“I like it,” he said simply. His breath was a faint caress against the skin of your neck, and you didn’t have much fight left in you. “We all have our tastes.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so weird.”

“Don’t kinkshame.” Jungkook pouted, then pressed a kiss against your shoulder. “You just begged me to fuck you in a church, remember?”

“Yeah, I guess I don’t have much place to judge.” You laughed dryly, then looked over your shoulder. “Why is your cock still hard? How long is this gonna take?”

Jungkook groaned, clearly annoyed. “Shut up and enjoy the moment.”

The so-called moment lasted about two more minutes (which was kind of impressive, you thought) before Jungkook softened and slipped out of you. You hated to admit but you kind of liked the feeling of having him still inside you, completing you as his lips danced around your neck; fingers tenderly playing with your hair. You never thought Jungkook would be so gentle after fucking you like that, but you guessed that you weren’t the only one that was full of surprises.

Jungkook, apparently, also liked to admire his work. After he had slipped out of you, he made you sit back on the table just so he could stare at his own cum dripping out of you, a glimmer of satisfaction in his dark gaze. He had pushed his white release back inside you and smirked up at you, asking, ever so kindly, for you to go home like that, filled with his cum.

You, of course, promptly accepted it.

“By the way,” he called when you two had already stepped out of the church, enveloped by the coldness of the night. There was only one solitary light pole illuminating his features, making him look like one of the saints in the chapel — nothing but fake advertisement, in your opinion. “Wanna know how much I got in that immunology test?”

“How much?” You asked.

“Eighty two.” Jungkook smiled brightly then, and you found yourself joining him. “Never saw a grade so high in my life. And that counts all the times I’ve cheated too.”

“Seems like the tutoring sessions are paying off.” You crossed your arms before your chest, the hem of your dress swirling around your knees. The night was weirdly peaceful after everything that had taken place.

“They are.” He nodded. “I’m looking forward to the next one. Helps that my tutor is kind of a hottie too.”

You scoffed. “So I’ve heard.”

“And, by the way?”

“Yeah?”

“You would look better without it.” He pointed at your dress, a sly smile already sprouting on his lips. “Hope to see it next time.”

“Good night, Jungkook.” You rolled your eyes, already turning around — yeah, like there would ever be a next time.

BAD INFLUENCE COLLECTION

TAGLIST:

@taehyungieskith @fan-ati--c @btstrasht @crazy4myself @sashimi-mochi @ft-multi @kooafraid @dianaaviny @ggukkieland @cryinginmypromdress @kissestothesky

#bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook #bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook #bad boy au #smut #reader insert #bts x you #bts x reader #bad boy jungkook #bts au #jungkook au #series #pwp #fluff

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emerald-chaos · 4 years ago

Text

Touchdown

*gif not mine, credit goes to the owner*

I just want to take a moment to say thank you for the love on my last fic! It made my lil ole heart swell to see that peopled enjoyed it enough to leave a like or reblog.

This is just something special I had in my arsenal that I wrote for a friend a few months ago. I touched it up a bit and added a few things here and there. It all started when we were talking about how much we loved when Chris' accent got heavier after he'd been drinking, and well, I couldn't help myself lol. I hope you enjoy the fluff! xoxo

I apologize for any grammatical errors, I tried to proof-read but am also a little exhausted lol.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2844

Warnings: I don't think there's anyway? Mentions of being drunk/drinking alcohol, cursing, and illusions to sexy times, but that's about it.

You hadn’t noticed how furiously your knee was bouncing up and down until the person sitting next to you on the subway got up to move seats once the train squealed to a stop. You sighed and ran your hands down the front of your thighs. Normally being a little late didn’t bother you as much, but tonight you were meeting him.

You flipped your wrist over to check your watch. 8:30pm. In all honesty, it had probably been only thirty seconds later than when you checked it the last time. Another deep sigh escaped from your lips as you started to become hyper aware of the train remaining still at the current stop. What could possibly be taking so long? You knew he wouldn’t care if you were running late, but the time the two of you had together already felt so minuscule. You wanted to capitalize on every second you could.

The train began moving again and you slumped back into your seat, feeling only a small amount of relief. It was becoming painfully apparent that you needed to try and relax. You could feel the sweat building up on your body, the sting on your palms from where your fingernails were pressing in with a vengeance moments ago, and you could hear your heart thumping in your ears. Your hand dug around in your purse for a few moments before finding the small case you were looking for. Opening it, you slipped your headphones into your ears and let your head rest on the window behind you as music intertwined with your thoughts.

Once upon a time, you made fun of people who decided to go to grad school. What kind of a clown would spend thousands of MORE dollars and go BACK to school?? Not to mention the stress of the assignments, the due dates - it was not for you...or so you thought.

Now here you are, a regular booboo the fool.

NYU’s graduate program for design and merchandising wasn’t necessarily part of your 5-year plan, but when the opportunity landed in front of you it was difficult to pass up. NYU was a school you had only dreamt of attending back in high school. When you were a senior in high school you were able to tour the campus and fell in love immediately. Hours upon hours were spent researching grants, scholarships, and all sorts of ways to try to make it happen. However, the dream ended as most teenage dreams do - crushed. There was no way you or your parents could afford the loans that it would surely wrack up to attend the out of state university, and there was no way you could ask your parents take on that kind of debt just so you could go to college. UMass was the way to go - close to home and familiar. Not to mention you were able to obtain several scholarships and grants that helped bring down the cost tremendously. Little did you know, boring ole UMass would bring you one of the most important things in your life.

Applying for graduate school wasn’t an easy decision and one you couldn’t really take all the credit for. A smile crept across your face as you reminisced on the night you nervously brought up the idea to your long-term boyfriend.

“I think you should do it,”

“I know, right?” you scoffed, “it’s insane, why would I do something so stup...wait, what? You do?”

“Of course I do. This is something you love and that you’re passionate about. Do you know how many hours of my life were spent listening to you ramble about NYU?” he questioned with a grin.

“It will open up so many doors for you. We can make things work,” a chuckle escaped from those beautiful lips as he saw your dumbfounded expression. He wrapped his fingers around your waist and pulled you close, “What? Did you expect me to forbid it? Cmon, baby, what kind of guy do you take me for?”

You didn’t have a lot of wins in your life, but you did have Chris.

When you got accepted, he took off a week from work to drive you 3 and a half hours south to help get you settled and moved into your temporary new home. The two of you ate a disgusting amount of pizza, moved a ridiculous amount of heavy furniture in the middle of a summer heat wave, and enjoyed each other’s company before the long-distance thing would set in. Chris spent that week encouraging you every step of the way, talking you off the ledge when you were convinced you had made the wrong decision, and made sure to help you christen every possible surface of your new place in the most deliciously sinful way.

You bit your lip slightly at the thought and a warm feeling spread across your face. Chris was one of the most incredible people you had met in this world. Kind, caring, funny, intelligent, passionate, and god was he sexy. The connection the two of you had was scary at first, but now you just couldn’t imagine spending your life with anyone else.

The robotic voice came over the loud-speaker in the subway car and you were rudely ripped back to reality as it pulled into your stop. You hurriedly scooped up your bag and jogged off the train.

It had been a promise between the two of you when you moved that there would be equal effort when it came to visiting and keeping in contact while having good, open communication. Long distance was hard but the two of you were determined to make it work. FaceTime calls, hours upon hours of texting, and even as far as writing the occasional letter back and forth (because your boyfriend was a hopeless romantic and you loved it so much). This weekend was your turn to come home to visit, and of course your last class had to go longer than anticipated. Fuckin’ Tiffany and her stupid ass questions.

The muscles of your calves burned as you kept up your hurried pace, weaving through the crowds of people gathered on sidewalks outside of various clubs and restaurants. It was a weekend night and the Patriots were playing, which meant the city was more alive than usual. New York was it's own beast, but it was a different type of hustle and bustle. Nights like these made your heart ache for home - the thick Massachusetts accents, the rowdy voices of bar patrons arguing about the game, the hugs shared between family members as they parted after dinner, and the faint smell of nicotine and alcohol that hung in the air.

As the neon sign that hung in the pub window came in to view you felt your heart dip down into your stomach. Last weekend’s visit had to be cancelled due to some stuff coming up with Chris’ work and a surprise assignment for you, so you hadn’t seen your boyfriend in 2 weeks. With a deep breath you swung open the door and scanned the crowd for him. He told you that he would be there promptly at 7:15pm for pregame shenanigans with his friends - which actually translated to how many pitchers of beer could they suck down before kick off.

“Aw, come ON! That is such a bullshit call!”

You heard him before you saw him. Of course. A grin spread across your lips as you shook your head. The thought of leaving to avoid secondhand embarrassment crossed your mind briefly before you picked up your feet and made your way through the crowd toward the sound. A room full of people from New England and you would still recognize that voice anywhere.

Everyone else seemed to fade away as you saw the outline of the tall, dark haired man standing at the bar. The slight freckles that spattered the back of his neck, the Brady jersey that he spent WAY too much money customizing, and the signature backward ball cap were ingrained in your subconscious memory. Not to mention if you didn’t recognize his outline or his voice, you would definitely recognize that ass anywhere.

You loved how passionate he got about sports and the way his Boston accent seemed to get thicker with each beer he consumed. Growing up in the area, you wouldn't think the accent would send a tingle down your spine the way it does, but it was different - it was Chris. Not to mention the sparkle in his eye when he would watch his favorite team or the way he would get in to arguments whenever someone tried to say something negative about them. You loved your big, handsome, over-sized toddler man so damn much.

A light tap on his shoulder made him whip around, his slightly opened mouth from his interrupted conversation curved upwards into a wicked grin as he made the connection of who was finally standing in front of him.

“Hey there, handsome. I don’t see a ring on your finger. You single?” You grinned, feeling your entire body fill with warmth as Chris leaned back and grabbed his chest as he erupted in laughter.

“Nah, nah, nah, unfortunately for you I am taken” he responded as he snaked his arms around your waist, sliding his hands into your back pockets as he pulled you into his figure.

“That is too bad,” you tsk'd, running a finger down his toned bicep, “she’s one lucky girl.”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” he grinned. He leaned down to meet your lips in a kiss. You sighed into it, allowing your body to mold itself so perfectly into his. The taste of beer on his lips and the smell of his cologne was intoxicating - it was home. You immediately allowed him entrance as you felt his tongue glide along your bottom lip. Your body felt small in his strong grip and you couldn’t help but laugh a bit as he gave your ass a firm squeeze. Normally, this type of bold, public display of affection would make you cringe away but at this point you were lost in Chris that you had absolutely no shame. Each time the two of you embraced had always felt like the first. Your heart still fluttered and your knees still got weak, like you were a 16 year old being kissed for the first time.

In the middle of your reunion moment, however, something happened in the game that made the entire bar erupt in boo’s and curses. Chris lifted his lips from yours to look over his shoulder and inspect what he had missed. You laughed and shook your head as you pushed him back towards his friends and took a seat in the bar stool he had been standing behind initially. His large hands found a natural place on your shoulders. While his eyes remained glued on the TV he began applying a moderate amount of pressure to your neck and shoulders. You didn’t realize how much your body craved that touch, his touch, until you immediately melted back into him.

The bartender slid a beer in front of you with a wink and you mouthed your thanks. You felt a twinge in your heart as you looked around, taking in the atmosphere of the bar. This was a typical weekend night for the two of you whenever you were living together. Football, drinks, pub food, and friends. If it wasn’t this pub it was your living room, just a couple blocks away. You didn’t even mind that it was your first night back and you weren’t alone, spending it immediately wrapped up in your satin sheets. The atmosphere, the people - it was so warm and familiar that you really wouldn’t rather be doing anything else. Plus, being wrapped up together in the sheets was sure to follow.

“I missed you,” hummed a pair of lips as they placed a kiss on the shell of your ear. A shiver shot down your spine at the sensation of his warm breath fanning over your neck. You reached up a hand and connected it to the nape of his neck.

“I missed you too,” you replied, turning your head to plant a kiss on his stubbled cheek.

His arms changed position as he wrapped them in front of your shoulders and crossed them, resting his chin on the top of your head. Your hand absentmindedly rubbed his forearms as you nursed your beer and placed your focus onto the game for the first time tonight.

The laughter seemed to escape from your chest naturally and effortlessly the entire night, as it always had a habit of doing when Chris was around. The camaraderie between him and his buddies during a game was something you’d grown to enjoy over the years. Chris’ competitive nature and the way his jaw clenched when something wasn’t going the way he wanted was always kinda...hot. All of his friends were huge assholes, but in the best way. It was always entertaining to hear them jab at each other and do what they could to rile someone up. They were the life of every party you had ever attended and they had a way of making a boring night a lot more interesting.

Thankfully (for the integrity of the bar) the Pats won the game with a surprise touchdown in the last 30 seconds of the game. Chris, being the guy he is, bought a final round for his friends and a nearby group they had been going back and forth with all night. You couldn’t help but laugh as he drunkenly leaned across the counter and slurred his order to the bartender.

“I need a round for m’friends and for these assholes over here who thought Tom Brady was anything but a winner!” the group started yelling in protest and he simply waved them off and started sliding beers down the bar.

The group eventually moved to a bigger round top so everyone could shoot the shit and banter about the outcome of the game. You were tucked into Chris’ side, hands intertwined as he was passionately discussing the importance of Brady’s legacy with a stranger who made the mistake of stopping to talk to him. Your eyes followed the motion of your thumb as it traced small circles onto the back of his. Your other hand under your chin, holding up the weight of your head as your exhaustion started to catch up with you. Chris, although slightly drunk, picked up on your body language and raised your hand to his lips for a kiss.

“Alright, fellas,” he said as he stood up from his seat, pulling you up with him, “the lady and I are gonna call it a night. See you boys next weekend”.

“Chris, we don’t have to go,” you began to protest as he tucked his jacket around your shoulders.

“Mm, ‘course we do,” he replied with a soft smile, “you’re so tired, baby. I can see it in those beautiful eyes”.

You could feel your cheeks turn a light shade of pink as you rolled your eyes at his attempt at laying it on thick. After what felt like a proper 10 minute goodbye session, the group said their final goodbyes, hugs included, and you walked out of the pub hand in hand.

The walk home was filled with the sounds of cars passing by and conversation of what each other had missed in the week prior. Small talk typically felt like such a chore, but with Chris every conversation came naturally. Even when he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about, he would listen intently and ask all the questions as if it was the most interesting conversation in the world.

The lock on the apartment door clicked as you pushed it open and entered. You smiled as you stopped into the middle of the living room, taking in the home you missed so dearly. A soft tapping of toenails against the hardwood made your heart soar as you met the eyes of your sweet pup, Dodger. A squeal left your lips as you squatted down to give love to the sweet boy. Chris always made fun of you when you came home, saying that you always seemed to miss Dodger more than you did him and I mean, he wasn’t entirely wrong about that statement.

Once again lost in your own world, you didn’t even notice Chris leaned up against the wall watching you with a smile.

“Oh my god,” you gushed, standing up, “do you like...like me or something?”

Chris grinned as he crossed the room and caught your belt loop with his finger, pulling you into him slowly.

“Yeah,” his voice had dropped down an octave, “you could say that”.

“Mm,” your tongue swiped across your lower lip and you wrapped your arms around his neck, “care to show me how much?”

The look in his eyes made your core burn. The tension building between you two became too much to handle as you crashed your lips into his. The kisses were messy and you could feel the sense of urgency between you two. His beard scratched against the column of your throat with a delicious burn as he left wet kisses across your jaw and down the side of your neck. Chris’ hands found their way back into the ass pockets of your jeans as he started walking you back towards the direction of the bedroom.

Soon, there was a trail of clothes leading to your bedroom and you felt very sorry for your neighbors. It had been a long time, but Chris always had a way of welcoming you home.

#eeeeeeee #i love soft drunk boston frat chris so much it pains me #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans headcanons #chris evans imagines #chris evans fic #chris evans fluff #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans/reader #chris evans/you #fluff #imagines #headcanons

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hansolmates · 4 years ago

Text

jjk; off-league

summary; you decide to do a little boudoir photoshoot for yourself—a little sexy lingerie, some bunny ears, maybe even a little nudity to make you feel more body positive about yourself. that little photoshoot doesn’t end up being for yourself anymore when you accidentally send those sexy pictures to your stupidly hot, stupidly talented childhood friend who you haven’t spoken to since middle school graduation. pairing; photographer!jk x fem!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers!au, flangst, mutual pining, feelings of insecurity and body image, suggestive language, nudity w.c; 6.2k a/n: i was feeling a lil meh about this fic after finishing it but a month later it finally makes its debut! for @btsghostiewritersnet BGW Bingo Bash! today’s trope is “childhood friends to lovers” which surprisingly isn’t a favorite of mine so it was definitely a challenge to write!

“C’mon, I need your opinion. Deadass. Don’t just say shit to make me feel better.”

“Gimmie those nudes, baby girl,” Johnny makes an impeccable fuckboy impersonation, making you feel a little squirmy to your stomach.

It’s an hour away from being the ass-crack’o-dawn and your impromptu pin-up photoshoot just needs the sexy-star-of-approval from your best friend. Johnny Suh is also up for reasons unmentioned, but you had a feeling his pretty boyfriend is fifty percent of the reason.

You look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your frame against the black bodice of the sheer teddy. The only parts that are fully concealed are the parts that don’t matter. The sheer bodice reveals your pert nipples concealed by a thin black mesh, coupled with the deep V in the sweetheart neckline, accented by a little black bow in the dive of your highlighted cleavage. The silky a-line raceways to a set of black garters hugging your thighs, barely hanging onto a pair of lace thigh-highs.

It doesn’t leave you butt naked, but enough to make you feel confident about yourself. These pictures are for you, and Johnny. And Johnny’s boyfriend if he’s being nosy.

You tug off the silk bunny ears from your head, flinging it somewhere in your room. The wire started to dig in your brain, giving you a major headache.

“Sending them now,” you hang up and start compiling the pictures in a folder on Google Drive. Once that’s done you copy the shareable link, sending it to Johnny’s number. It happens all so fast, and you feel kind of giddy. As you were posing for the camera, taking your time to find all the right angles, you felt good, you felt sexy in your little get up. Channeling your inner Ariana Grande was one of your childhood dreams, your fifteen year old self would be proud.

Five minutes pass, fifteen, and by the twenty-five minute mark you’re pissed. What’s taking Johnny so long?

Makeup scrubbed clean and face bare, you shuffle in your duvet, far too tired to be waiting up this long. Punching in his number once more, you cry, “Hey! Why haven’t you looked at them yet?”

“What?” your friend’s voice sounds pebbly through the line. Was Johnny sleeping? “You never sent them!” he whines tiredly.

“No, I definitely sent them!” you pull the phone away and keep Johnny on call, ready to prove him wrong.

But to your surprise, the last message you sent to Johnny was this afternoon.

The most recent message is to a person named John Kook.

You scream.

Johnny screams back at you with an equal amount of force, “What the fuck? Did someone break in? Are you being mobbed? See, this is why I wanted to put the baby monitor in your room—”

“Worse!” you’re well prepared for any break in, but not for this. “I sent my pics to the wrong John!”

“Well… is he at least cute?”

“I mean, in the fourth grade he looked pretty cute with that front tooth missing,” you find your output of frustration, your bunny plush, pulling it by the ear and hitting it against the bed. “His name isn’t even John! It was just his English name for a silly project we did in middle school. This is so embarrassing, all I can picture is a twelve-year-old Jungkook mortified from sexual harassment. I basically sent him nudes!”

“Tasteful nudes.”

“I’m gonna die.”

“He’s gonna die, of happiness.”

Jeon Jungkook was a classmate from elementary through middle school. Time and time again was he the object of your affections, from the first grade at the roller rink to the speech he made at graduation. But really, who cares? You’re old and have a job, and it’s not like you’ve communicated with any of your former classmates.

Your horror amplifies when the Delivered receipt is changed to Read 3:41AM.

“Fuck! Fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget he saw it!” you cry, “does he still have my number? What if he deleted my contact, would that be even weirder?”

“Girl, stop.” Johnny sighs, and you can already picture him running his thumb between his brows. “This doesn’t change anything, alright? You two don’t know each other anymore. Block his number and go to sleep.”

Johnny leaves you alone after that, and you’re left alone to mull over the implications of sending Jeon Jungkook your nude photoshoot.

You do block his number, knowing that waiting for a reply would drive you nuts. The one thing that you do which is possibly worse, is look him up on Instagram.

Of course, he’s stupid hot.

He doesn’t seem to like being on the receiving end of the camera however, in favor of his timeline being filled with romantic shots of the beach and city. In between the picturesque views and watercolor sunsets do you see glimpses of him and his current life. You can’t help but smile when you see him with his brother and parents during his college graduation, easily towering over all of them. He looks tall with fluffy cocoa hair, big pearly whites gleaming proudly at the camera. He grew up well.

To torture yourself even more, you even look through his story. Twelve hours ago, he was at the gym lifting weights. Normally, you’d be disgusted by people trying to show off their grunt faces drenched in sweat, but of course Jungkook has to have on a silly smile and pump his fist up after he deadlifts. The sweat clinging to his shirt is also a high plus. His gorgeous display of abs has your hands fluttering over your own belly. Maybe you need to exercise more.

Four hours ago, you see him and a pretty woman with their cheeks squished together, using the puppy filter. Of course he has a girlfriend.

Reluctant, you open up your Google Drive and scroll through your photoshoot. Deflated, you frown at the pictures that once made you beam with pride, picking at every little detail that bothered you. You really can’t believe you sent these to Jeon Jungkook, no longer a fourth grader with one front tooth, but a man way out of your league.

By the time you will yourself to sleep, the sun peeks from the horizon, telling you to move on.

“Hey Gyu,” you tiptoe over to the table much too small for Mingyu’s frame. The string bean is slumped over his iPad pro, drawing intently at some chibi OCs. “Got a plot for that one?” you ask, pointing at the little pink and blue creature decorating the screen.

Mingyu grunts in reply, obviously engrossed. It isn’t until you slide him a matcha frappe from Starbucks that he becomes intelligible, muttering a “thank you” as he blends with his pen.

Sensing that it’s going to be awhile before you get through to him, you take your usual rounds around the front desk and lobby of the cosy photo studio. There’s pretty pictures of Mingyu’s work, along with the other employees Minghao and Hoseok. Each section of the wall features a different taste of each person’s interest. Mingyu is a divine lover of soft bed sheets and hot tea, many of his photographs and paintings featuring cafes or perfectly messy beds you’ve seen on hotel advertisements. Minghao is a tasteful artisan, splotches of color retaliating against neutral backgrounds. Finally, Hoseok manages to find balance in the people, large cityscapes telling both large and small stories.

“Alright,” Mingyu’s deep voice forces you to curl your head, where he’s sipping at his drink with haste. “What’cha here for?”

You frown, “Don’t you remember? I told you last week I’d be stopping by to get my photos developed,” you gesture to the Pentax in your hands, an heirloom from your great-aunt. While you did take digital photos for sending them to Johnny, the ones you wanted developed were taken side-by-side with the film camera. You figured that film would give a little more authenticity to your photoshoot.

“Shit, that’s today?” the camera falls like deadweight, slapping against your sweater as you watch Mingyu frantically look through his digital calendar. He looks at you, dejected. “How many prints?”

“I don’t know, maybe like six. Or eight?”

“That’s gonna take too long, I’m heading down to Hidden Grounds for a vision meeting at two.”

“Alright, I’m free all day. What about after?”

“Nah, you came all this way. I can just let the new guy help you.” and Mingyu makes a show of cupping his hands in the direction of the open hallway, “Yah, Jeon Jungkook! Get your cute ass out here!”

The Pentax around your neck suddenly feels like weight akin to a two-ton boulder, and you surge forward, not caring that the corner of the table is digging into your belly. “Mingyu,” you garble, and Mingyu is shell-shocked by the desperation in your eyes. “Isn’t Minghao around or something? Or I can come back another time? These photos are really personal and I don’t feel comfortable having a stranger see them.”

“What? We’re professionals, don’t belittle us.”

“No, seriously,” you whine, you tug at the collar of his denim jacket, noses practically touching. “These pictures are different. My tits are out and my legs are spread—”

“—interrupting something?”

You hear some shuffling, and you turn around to see Jeon Jungkook’s back, comically turned to face the entrance.

And damn, he did have a cute ass. Nothing is going to hide the glory in those jeans, absolutely nothing.

“Hilarious,” Mingyu drawls, and you push him away. “Forget it, Kook. She doesn’t feel comfortable letting a stranger develop her photos.”

Sensing that it’s safe to turn around, you watch as his black bangs flutter as he faces you. You hope your body language doesn’t betray how you’re really feeling, because you are a mere mortal and you’re weak in the presence of god-like figures.

“Oh, what a relief then,” he smiles at you, and his voice sounds like honey. If there was malice or surprise in his tone, his good-natured expression betrays it. “Because I’ve known this friend since elementary school. We go way back.”

You ignore the burn in the back of your head, as you are positive Mingyu knows you’re hiding something.

“Really, what a coincidence.” Mingyu replies carefully, and you feel utterly stuck between these men and their banter, locked up like cream in an Oreo cookie.

Nothing argues against Jungkook as he easily weaves through the thick wave of awkwardness, hands reaching out to touch your camera. “Wow,” he marvels, holding the object in his hands, “my dad has one of these.”

“A-ha,” you take a step back, only to bump into the corner of the table, again. Ouch. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’m actually busy today so I can come when Mingyu’s free–”

“Oh, I thought you were free all day,” Mingyu drawls, looking up through his lashes as he sips languidly at his drink.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook says good-naturedly, as if Mingyu just didn’t out you. “We got a lot of catching up to do anyway, c’mon.”

Jungkook moves to place a hand in the small of your back and that’s enough to get you to rev up. Refusing to let any contact get between the two of you, you zip ahead down the familiar hallway, turning your head to catch Mingyu grinning with all canines, shooing you with his fingers like a puppy.

You send Mingyu a stream of “fuck yous” into his inbox for later, unwilling to settle with this curse. Busying yourself with your phone, you avoid eye contact with Jungkook until you reach the dark room. The red light turned off at the top of the doorhenge signals that the room is not in use. Jungkook makes a move to open the door and that’s when you pounce, blocking the doorway with your small body. It’s comical, really.

Jungkook raises a brow at you, but says nothing.

“I really can wait, Jungkook,” you steel yourself, forcing a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t like you developing my pictures—”

It’s then that his pretty cupid’s bow unfurls into a full-fledged grin. “Girlfriend... you’ve been keeping tabs on me?”

“Fuck, well I had to!” your face is as red as the dark room’s alert light, now on because Jungkook flicked the switch and he’s between your arm to unlock the door. Your hand brushes his as you both reach the knob. “I’m really really sorry I sent those pictures. They were for Johnny—you remember Johnny Suh from English class? And I saved you in my contacts as “John Kook” so it was an honest mess up.”

Jungkook hums, so light that the breathiness in his chords flutters your grip on the knob. He forces the door ajar, and you’re left to follow him in the dark room, cluttered with solutions and fancy equipment.

“Thought so,” Jungkook shrugged, giving a one-over at the materials in the room, mulling over his next steps in developing your film.

You’re still petrified at the doorway, holding your Pentax between both hands like a lifeline. Jungkook’s head lols to you, and you get a pretty view of the way his bangs brush over his forehead, Adam’s Apple bobbing. His expression is a little tired, but overall unreadable. He sighs your name, lethargic.

“We’re already here, so might as well get this done,” he gestures to the camera in your vice grip. “Do you wanna pick the shots or do you want me to?”

He’s already seen the digitals, what’s so different about getting a couple prints? With a slight pout you drag your feet over to him, relinquishing your camera. “I’m thinking you have a better eye for this than I do.”

“You think right.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Cocky, but what you’ve seen on Instagram definitely justifies his sentiment. Jungkook pays no mind to you, busying his hands with the various containers in front of him, measuring the solutions for the developer, stopper, and fixer. You were always entranced by the process of developing film, especially in highschool where their photography club holed themselves in the darkroom like a secret lair.

“Alright,” he pops open the canister, carefully laying out sections of the film in groups of four. “Want me to pick a random one for a tester?”

You frown, “At least put some thought into it.”

“Always,” it looks like he already decided way before he popped the question, immediately taking a negative and placing it in the carrier.

His fingers are nimble as he takes the time to clean off the dust and any debris that could potentially ruin the image. Then he turns off the lights and begins the process. You dive around him, trying to keep your distance but still too curious to leave his side. If he’s annoyed he fails to show it, in favor of humming whatever song comes from his Echo Dot.

You always got the solos in choir. You wanted to reminisce, but you’re too nervous to say it out loud.

Even though it’s his job and he’s being a professional, you romanticize the experience, watching as he carefully puts the print in each liquid process. Your image blooms to life, and you feel your stomach churn as the photo develops before your eyes.

After a final dip in the solution stopper, he places the first product in a bath of water. Even though you are mere centimeters away, you can clearly see the image of you swimming around the container.

“Alright!” Jungkook hangs the finished picture on a pastel pink clothespin, tacking it in place. “Whaddya think?”

Your breath catches in your throat, feeling heavy as you look at the image of you reflected in the glossy paper. You’re perched on your bed, a hand splaying between your legs as the other hand toys with the silk bunny ears. You’re leaned slightly, giving an ample view of your cleavage. However, the image of you is definitely different from being blown up in comparison to the negatives, and you squirm uncomfortably at your full display.

“I look,” you bite your tongue, internally debating whether you like it or not. Not to spare Jungkook the theatrics you shrug, “It’s good.”

The lack of enthusiasm seems to dissatisfy Jungkook however, as he has to take a double take and look back and forth between the image and the real thing. “What’s wrong with it, do you think Johnny’ll not like it?”

“What?” you furrow your brows, breaking into a nervous laugh. “Johnny has a boyfriend. I just wanted his opinion. This photoshoot is for me, y’know? Just something to make me feel good about myself.”

Jungkook’s lips morph into a little ‘o’, and you see a little bit of the child you once knew in the way he’s mulling over the situation.

“Then can I give you my honest opinion?” Jungkook clips off the half-dried photo, holding it between you two. “Stop thinking so hard about every little thing you don’t like about yourself. If I was your boyfriend and you gifted this to me, I’d be creaming my pants. You look fucking sexy, all grown up since you cried in the fourth grade.”

You’ve just been flung a litany of words you have no brain capacity to digest. Along with that, the immense heat you didn’t know you’ve been suppressing surges to your belly, low and simmering. Jungkook stares at you in earnest, despite his sudden gush of honesty, you don’t know what to say. There’s a dash of pink staining his cheeks, betraying the confidence he previously displayed. He stiffens when you don’t reply immediately and moves to clean his materials, his sudden bout of bold honesty quickly shrinking.

“Y-you know,” you look down at your feet, “the only reason why I cried in the fourth grade was because you told me Santa wasn’t real.”

Jungkook softens, tilting his head. “Sorry about that.”

“Thanks though,” you gently reach for the photo in Jungkook’s grasp, looking at it without contempt. “But won’t your girlfriend be upset if she knew you were saying things like this about someone else?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, if you looked through the rest of my Instagram story,” Jungkooks cards a hand through his already mussed hair, splitting the ends. “You would see that she’s not my girlfriend, but my tattoo artist.”

For added measure, he wiggles his fingers in front of you, revealing pretty ink and silver bands across his knuckles.

“Oh,” your voice is feather light, and you’re sure you’re drooling as you stare far too long at the letters that mark his hands, curious as to what they symbolize.

“So, as a singleton telling another singleton,” he continues, “I know it’s meaningless if you don’t believe it yourself, but I’m telling you, you’re attractive.”

“Thanks,” you hold the picture tightly in your grasp, eyes flickering to the negatives in the room ready to be galvanized into a full-fledged picture. “Why don’t we wrap this up, huh? We can continue another time.”

If he notices how much the paper wilts in your grasp, he doesn’t comment on it. “Are you sure? I know it takes a lot of time, but I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure,” you force a smile, one hand on the lightswitch. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready, okay?”

Jungkook swallows, nodding mechanically. “Okay.”

“It was really nice seeing you, Kook.” you blurt before you could chicken out, letting the room bask in darkness a little longer so he can’t see your flustered state. “I’m not even going to downplay it, you look great.”

You half-expect a cocky remark, or a little chest pumping from the compliment. At the sound of his nickname however, 4th grade Jeon Jungkook resurfaces and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Like I said, so do you,” he replies easily, sending you a soft smile and opening the door for you.

The door closes shut behind you and you exhale, patting your cheeks and willing for the chilly air to calm you down.

When you get home that day, you shuck off all your clothes and crawl into bed. You cry out when the metal framing of your bunny ears stabs you in the back, and you fling it to some unmentionable part of the room. You reach for a bag of half-opened sour gummy worms, flipping open your MacBook to continue streaming the soft magical girl anime you’ve been hooked on these past few weeks.

Not even Sailor Uranus can distract you; however, by the time it’s dark and you’ve run out of distractions, you finally pull the plug and unblock Jungkook from your list of contacts.

Your phone buzzes, the incessant vibration relaying all the messages you’ve missed.

[March 12th, 3:53AM]

You: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/0343…

John Kook: ???

John Kook: you probably sent this to me by accident… sorry i clicked on it

John Kook: is it weird if i said you’ve done a massive glow up since the middle school dance?

[March 12th, 12:02 PM]

John Kook: are u mad

John Kook: you’re mad

John Kook: am i makin this weird by continuing to text you

John Kook: im making it weird.

[March 31st, 6:24 PM]

John Kook: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/049…

You tilt your head at the folder link, it was sent only a few hours ago. With a click, you’re enlightened to a set of digital photos. Your photos from your photoshoot, but not quite. They’ve been expertly edited, not too much to distort your looks, but only to enhance your features. A small, barely there smile creeps from your subconscious, ultimately touched by the gesture.

John Kook: sorry if i pushed too hard today.

Guilt overrides your nerves, prompting you to immediately press the call button on his contact. Not to your surprise, Jungkook’s light voice calls your name through the line after the second ring.

“Don’t be sorry,” you blurt, forgoing the hellos. “It was the right amount of push, I feel better, really. If anything, I’m sorry. I blocked your number because I was scared to read your reaction.”

You hear him sigh along the line, and you feel that breath ripple through your nerves, as if he’s right next to you. “It’s fine, I would’ve done the same thing.”

“The pictures you just sent, they’re really beautiful. You did a good job.”

“Thanks, I had a bit of help. I didn’t have to do much.”

“Oh, did Mingyu come back from his meeting?”

"No, I uh," Jungkook chuckles, and while you don't really know why, the sound is nonetheless pleasant. “It was mostly the lighting and coloring I fixed up. Didn’t need to do much since you already looked so pretty as it is.”

You choke on your saliva.

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you cough, “just choked on a snack I was eating.” he hums in reply, and you pray he doesn’t hear your stomach fervently retort that you haven’t eaten since lunch. “So, I think I’m up for developing more of the film. When can I drop by?”

“I’m free Saturday,” Jungkook chirps, “I have a shoot until noon but you can come anytime after that.”

“Sounds good, I’ll be there,” you clutch the phone with both hands. “I can bring lunch. What do you like to eat?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’m already buying for Minghao,” you lie, “do you like burgers?”

“I can’t say no to a good burger,” Jungkook’s smile feels almost palpable against the line, “do you remember our field trip to the national museum of history? We had burgers on the street!”

“Oh, those were so good,” you moan, fuzzy memories of a middle grade field trip resurfacing to clarity, “but you ate like, ten of them!”

“I still get nightmares,” he warns, “don’t let me go to bed like this.”

You giggle, letting your body meld further into your warm mattress. “Maybe I’ll just show up with ten burgers for you tomorrow.”

“I’ll throw up on you, try me.”

Minghao’s adjusting the frames on their display wall by the centimeter, and it’s pissing him off.

“Ah, it’s off,” he mutters to himself when you walk in, indicated by the electronic bell. He turns to you briefly, pulling a leveler out of his overall pocket. “Doesn’t this look off?”

“Uh,” you look towards Mingyu at the front desk, who is paying no mind as he continues scribbling on his iPad. You tilt your head towards your former college classmate. “It doesn’t look off from over here?”

Tacking the leveler on one of the frames, he whines, “It’s five degrees off.”

Mingyu puts his pen down to reach over the counter and grab the paper from your hands, steaming with the scent of fast food, “He’s been like this for hours, don’t mind him.”

He doesn’t even ask whether the food is his, Mingyu sees grease and he claims. Reaching for an oil-wrapped parchment, he unfolds the paper to reveal a handsome burger with all the fix-ens.

Barely satisfied, Minghao steps away from the art display. There is a sizable gap in the display, now divided between four artists instead of three. You wonder how Jungkook’s work will look amongst the other artists.

“Cute ‘fit.” Minghao mumbles, nodding approvingly at your clothes as he digs into the bag for his own burger.

You send a half-smile his way. If an outfit is Minghao-approved, that means you’ve gone above and beyond. At least, you tried to play it off like you didn’t try to look cute. It’s not like you’re intimidated by Jungkook, living with a major fifteen-year glow up. After all, he’s already seen more than you can imagine.

Mingyu takes notice, eyes going south to where your white blouse meets your cleavage. You hurl a fry at his face, “Eyes up here, perv.”

He scrunches his nose, lifting a greasy thumb to slide a manila envelope over to you. “Here’s the developed pictures. Intercepted Kook and I finished them this morning.”

You frown, “Jungkook’s not done with his photoshoot yet?”

“Oh, he’s been done.” Mingyu’s eyes roll back to one of the studios. “But I’m saying is, you got what you needed. So you can leave if you want,” but he grins at you, canines so sharp you feel his stare jabbing you in the proverbial neck. “Unlesssss you want to go in and say hi.”

If he has any inkling of what’s going on in your head, it’s definitely confirmed when your face turns hot. Damn body, you’re betraying me! With a flourish you grab the fries from under Mingyu’s nose, along with whatever’s left in the fast food bag.

Minghao’s smiling through his burger, knowing if he pulls any type of savagery his lunch would certainly be pulled from under his chin.

“Whatever you’re thinking, drop it or the burger will be going in your ass instead of out.” You mean to sound menacing, but the Min-squared and their boisterous laughter follow you down the hallway and into the occupied studio.

“Hey Jungkoo—wow.”

You’re sure you look like Alice, enthralled by the little wonderland she just stepped into. The set is beautiful, right out of a fairytale. It has a very old-romance vibe, like Morticia and Gomez Addams. There lay a couch made of the darkest, richest wood, with velvet red cushions covering the body. Across the floor laid hundreds of black rose petals, blanketing the floor in a sea of ebony.

“It’s for a wedding, gothic themed.” Jungkook supplies helpfully, still fiddling with whatever he was looking on his digital camera. He’s looking utterly soft in a matching grey sweat combination, something that would easily disgust you during high school, but unfairly works with him.

“The shoot must’ve been beautiful.”

“It was.”

“I uh, got this for you.” Your fingers start to sweat from clutching the bag so hard, and you place it on his work table.

He finally looks up from his camera, giving you a wan smile. “I thought you got those for Minghao.”

You mentally slap your cheeks, trying to ignore the way his smile made your stomach do somersaults. “He got his own. Your portion has a cookie in it, so.”

His cute teeth unveil themselves at the mention of sweets, and you can’t help but smile back at the familiarity.

The two of you take your time in enjoying your lunch, not meaning to stay but the very back of your mind hoping he’d like to share a meal with you. After all, Mingyu and Minghao are probably at the front relishing in your very obvious attraction. What can you say, first crushes never die.

Between sips of your milkshake, you’ve taken to flipping through Jungkook’s portfolio. There’s a myriad of different subjects: beaches, people, the occasional squirrel. Each section of the portfolio feels like you’re being transported to a new side of Jungkook and his artistry, and you ached to know more.

“Wow,” you point at an action shot of two girls in a dance studio, “this duo looks like Chungha and Hyoyeon.”

He swallows his (second) burger, having the audacity to sink sheepishly in his sweater. “It is Chungha and Hyoyeon.”

You nearly choke on your cookie. “That’s amazing.” you say breathlessly, looking closer at the image. In fact, the beautiful women photographed are famed hip-hop choreographers Chungha and Hyoyeon. You can’t imagine how good Jungkook must be to manage a photoshoot with them.

As proud as you are of Jungkook, it reminds you that since middle school you two have lived completely different lives. You wonder if Jungkook gets these kinds of gigs all the time, hanging around with gorgeous, talented people like himself.

Jungkook says your name once, twice. He looks at you concerned, and you’re melting in his large carmine eyes. If he notices your usual overthinking, he doesn’t say anything, and gestures to the section at the end of his portfolio. “This isn’t my best work, but it’s one of my favorites.”

There’s something familiar about this set. A playground with a busted swing set. Children riding on bikes and colorful class shirts. Ice cream melting on fists.

Thirteen-year-old you hanging on top of your middle school’s leafless tree, clutching your baseball cap as you shade yourself from the sunset.

“Was this the first time you took pictures?” you ask, thumbing the picture of yourself.

“Yeah. It’s when I decided it’s what I wanted to do the rest of my life.”

“I know we didn’t know each other that well and we’ve only recently connected but,” you give him a shy smile, “I’m really proud of what you’ve grown up to be, Jungkook.”

He looks like you’ve hung him the moon and stars, his half-eaten burger loosening in his grasp. His lips are parted cutely, like a kitten who’s just been offered a fresh glass of milk. You cough at the sudden pause in conversation, feeling self-conscious of your impulse confession. You don’t even have it in you to be disgusted when Jungkook hastily shoves the second half of his burger down his throat, tips of his ears pink.

Leaving him be, you press a palm to your cheek, looking at the wedding set.

Jungkook downs half a water bottle before he speaks again. “Y’know, it would be a shame to clean up this set already. It was kind of expensive.”

“Yeah,” you echo, standing up and kicking off your slippers. You kick your feet in the air, watching the black petals kiss across your ankles.

“I have an idea,” he wipes his hands on his sweats, “why don’t you go back home and get an outfit you really like. Lingerie, a cute outfit, whatever. Let me give you a photoshoot you’d love.”

You look up from your petal dance, balking. “Jungkook! That’s not necessary, I told you the photos I took were okay.”

“Yeah but, you didn’t seem entirely happy. C’mon, I got a camera and a beautiful set. Why waste it?” his hands naturally gravitate towards his charging camera, already turning it on. “I can do lighting, I know all your good angles. What’s stopping us?”

Really, what’s stopping you? Your hands fiddle with your open flannel, the soft material comforting you as you look across the set. You try to imagine yourself, your body draped across the velvet pillows and black petals. Would it look good? Would you feel good? You think back to how you felt the first time, how scared you were when someone other than Johnny would be looking at your photos. You remember how something weird and sour contorted in your stomach when you scrolled through Jeon Jungkook’s Instagram, no longer the little boy you knew but a man who could have everything he wanted—

“Stop thinking about it.” Jungkook suddenly snaps, and you break from your reverie to catch him looking upset. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him like that.

“Thinking about what?”

“Thinking that you’re out of my league.”

“Excuse me?”

“You were like this the other day too,” and he looks sad, and puts his camera down to come closer to you. “Why are you feeling this way. Is it me?”

“Not necessarily,” you huff, hugging yourself.

“Do you not feel beautiful? Do you not like your body?”

“No, I do.” you say to yourself, and you mean it. Even though there will inevitably be days where you may not feel one-hundred percent positive about yourself, you know at the end of the day, you love you and all its parts. “I don’t know, Jungkook. I had no problem letting Mingyu develop the photos originally, because he knew me in college and I was already sure of myself back then. But I guess when I sent them to you, I felt like I did when I was a little girl, y’know? Going through puberty, and worrying about what other people think.”

And it’s not like Jungkook teased you or made you feel lesser of yourself. In fact, Jungkook was the student you wanted to be when you were younger. Someone sweet and caring, and unabashedly confident about himself.

“I guess seeing you so successful and the fact that my stupid childhood crush came back from a time where I always felt low, made me feel a little insecure again.”

Something sinks in and you feel hyper aware of how crushed Jungkook looks at your declaration. “There’s no leagues, you got that?” he says quietly, walking so close that he’s hovering over you, sneakers brushing. “I get it. I get unsure and insecure just like you. Hell, I was nervous this morning, wondering if you’d really come. We may not feel insecure over the same things, but middle school wasn’t that great for me either.” He makes a funny face, and you feel a smile twitch across your lips. “But it’s okay. Because we’re human and we grow. But now, you are successful. You’ve grown from your time growing up and you’re a wonderful, powerful person. I’m proud of you too.”

“I know,” you mumble, leaning your forehead against his chest. His arms wrap around you in response, holding you snug.

“And for the record, I thought you were the most beautiful person in the world in fourth grade. Even though my world was pretty small back then, I can say now that what I thought back then still stands true.”

You look up from his embrace, where he’s leaning down to press a slow, cotton soft kiss to your forehead. He backs up a little to read your face, and you give a tiny nod in response to signal it’s okay. Jungkook exhales in contentment, relaxing against your frame.

“Thanks, Kook,” you crack a smile, feeling your insecurities slowly evaporate. You feel better, light, knowing that these negative feelings are only temporary, and you’re not alone. Being in Jungkook’s arms, an honest boy turned man you’ve known all your life, it feels almost like home.

You two stay like this for a while. Exchanging feather-like kisses, feeling irrevocably young and hopeful. Suddenly feeling emboldened, you tug him by the strings of his hoodie to press a long, hot kiss to his lips. There’s a stutter, and you’re pretty sure Jungkook choked on his saliva at the sudden change of pace but you continue, letting Jungkook catch up and follow your lead.

“Wow,” Jungkook pulls away and his lips are shiny and flushed. Adorable. You think 7th grade Jungkook would be rolling in his Naruto sheets if he knew you two would inevitably end up together. Conversely, 7th grade you would be squealing in your kitten plushie, proud that you managed to nab your childhood crush to live out all the fantasies you’ve imagined since the 4th grade.

“Jungkook,” you let your flannel fall to the floor in a heap, only leaving your baby blue top in a thin ruched camisole. “I think I want to do the photoshoot. Can’t pass up these pretty petals, y’know?”

He runs a hand through his hair, gaping. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you press a wet kiss to his neck, “anyway you want me, baby. Full creative control. I want you to like this as much as I do, okay?”

With the permission to hold the wheel, Jungkook’s lightheaded and spinning. His eyes rake up and down your gorgeous form, wondering how many good deeds he’s done in his past life to earn a right just as this.

“In that case,” he presses a palm to your shoulder, pushing you to sit along the velvet cushion, “strip for me.”

#jungkook fic #btsghostiebingo #goldenclosetnet #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts fic #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader

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koo-zy · 4 years ago

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hello! do you have any fantasy/historical jungkook x reader fic recs ?

hello lovely!! i’m so sorry i missed this yesterday :( i was actually planning on reorganizing my tumblr because i feel like no fics are ever going to be able to be found my blog LOL so hopefully that’ll be done soon!!

as for the fantasy/historical fics.. i’m honestly not too sure what “fantasy” (do demons count..? soulmates..? werewolves????) typically includes so i’m just going to include a bunch of fics that hopefully fit in :”) here are the first ones that i thought of + summaries included in their main posts!

also.. i’m sure i missed a lot of amazing fics (mainly because i’m dumb as hell and don’t really know what can be included in “fantasy”) and would like to apologize in advance!!

@inktae ’s entire masterlist (they have a lot of fantasy fics!)

while this isn’t just jungkook recs, @ficswithluv had a fantasy category a few weeks ago!

@kpopfanfictrash ‘s jungkook masterlist

@fortunexkookie ‘s jungkook masterlist

one shots!

énouement - @littlemisskookie Mulan!AU

War is Hell, but it’s what you had to do to take your brother’s place. Of course, between the days of Hell are little slices of Heaven you’d call your Captain, Jeon Jungkook.

midas - @gukyi

jeon jungkook was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and the power to turn whatever he wants into pure gold. you were born with healing and invisibility powers but without a cent to your name. so when you’re plucked off of the streets for pickpocketing and assigned to be his minder as punishment, you realize you’re going to have to overcome a lot more than class differences if either of you are going to get what you want.

i will not lose! - @jimlingss Magic!AU

A single bet - use every means to make Jeon Jungkook fall in love with you.

a piece of the moonlight - @/jimlingss Mulan!AU

For your loved ones, the people who are waiting at home, the people who have died - you will fight. And sometimes to fight means to sacrifice: who you really are and the person you really love.

dynasty - @/jimlingss Historical!AU

It’s no secret that the Emperor is infertile. But even so, a girl is selected every three months and brought to become his concubine in hopes of conceiving the next heir. This time, it’s you. And in order to prevent execution, Jeon Jungkook might just aid you in conception.

game of temptation ft. knj, myg, kth - @/jimlingss Succubus!AU

As a succubus, your beauty is unrivaled and shaped to tempt mortals. But it’s still hard to resist Taehyung, and there’s little you can do once you’ve been coerced to do his bidding for him. This time, you find yourself entering the affluent Kim Household as a housemaid. And these poor humans don’t know your intentions are far from being angelic.

knot today - @kinktae

(IDK IF WEREWOLVES COUNT BUT JERHFBDSKNZX THIS IS REALLY GOOD!!)

When your first heat approaches and you are left partnerless, who better to turn to than your alpha roommate that you’ve spent the better half of your life hiding your feelings for?

ego - @luxekook Harry Potter!AU

(..i also don’t know if HP counts LOL)

in which jeongguk is a cocky lil shit and the reader has to take him down a few pegs

stumbling - @hayjeon Prince!AU

an ask in their inbox regarding the prompt: hii! so the royal wedding of prince harry and meghan is today, and since my bias is JK and since i’m such a sucker for royal stuff, can i reuest a fic of bts all being royal of 7 different kingdom, and all of them being invited to jin’s wedding and the girl (oc) is also invited and kookie met her there, and eventually took an interest at her? the girl is also royalty from other kingdom. thanks!

werewolf!jungkook - @/hayjeon

an ask in their inbox regarding the prompt: Werewolf!jk? (im sorry ik it’s overused and unoriginal) where he and his mate have pups to take care of and they’re quite a mischievous bunch!

there for you - @cupofteaguk Hogwarts!AU

Jungkook is always known for doing things unapologetically, and it makes sense given how almost nothing gets under his skin—almost nothing, but maybe there’s an exception that takes a form of a muggleborn with the shy smile and quirky spells.

say you won’t let go - @/cupofteaguk Soulmates!AU

You’ve been eighteen years old for ten years when Jungkook first moves in

new romantics - @/cupofteaguk Hogwarts!AU

Jeon Jungkook will go down in history as one of the best Quidditch players that ever graced the Hogwarts scene. It seems like he always gets what he wants—his life is very predictable in that sense. What he cannot predict, however, is the newest weekend employee wiping down the tables at the Three Broomsticks.

a cinderella story - @suhdays Modern Cinderella!AU

you are forced to work multiple jobs as you live under your stepmothers roof. unable to move out and strive for complete independence, you do what you can in order save enough. turns out, as a college student that is harder than you thought. so, you distract yourself by joining online chat groups in which you meet a boy that goes to your school. that boy? none other than the rugby star himself, jeon jeongguk. it doesn’t prove to be an issue until he asks to meet you at an upcoming halloween party. he’s never noticed you before so why not hide yourself in order to live your dreams, if only for a moment?

explorer - @1kook Alien!AU

Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning.

rottenfolk - @junqkook Faerie!AU

a look was as hazardous as chemicals, a kiss as perilous as poison; his eyes and lips felt akin to a cure, but he was purely venom.

the young wolf - @/junqkook Game of Thrones!AU

he was promised to another, meant for another to hold and to love and to kiss. but when his hand lingered on yours for a moment too long to be proper, and when his eyes held yours for a beat too long to be a passing glance, you allowed desire to creep into your veins, to take root inside your heart. perhaps before you might have been permitted to love him freely. perhaps he might have even been promised to you instead. but war was no place for the wants and desires of two people, no matter how much they yearned for it to be.

the lighthouse - @rubycoast S2L!AU

(im not too sure if this is considered fantasy but its one of my favs!)

you and jungkook had one thing in common: you were both lost souls stagnant in the search of some fulfillment. the one of many differences was that your story had been written on your sleeves, while jungkook’s was a story needed to be unriddled.

black magic - @hansolmates Magic Uni!AU

a witch with an ambition for learning, you stumble across a crushing spell in the middle of the forbidden section. of course you have to try it out! what happens when the crushing spell not only has jeon jungkook crushing on you, but you crushing on him?

the sea & the storm - @jamaisjoons Fantasy!AU

the sea is a powerful mistress. she is calm and beautiful. she is mysterious and alluring. she is a force to be reckoned with. above all, however, she is lonely. until she meets him. fantasy au.

the lionheart’s oath - @sugaxjpg Knight & Princess!AU

There was no happy ending, no dragon slayer to save the kingdom and get the princess — there was only him: Jungkook. A simple orphan that was lucky enough to be invited into the castle, a former homeless thief that had found shelter in the form of an elysian heir. Now, after twelve years by your side, he was about to lose you to the world you sought to explore.

ghosts just wanna have fun - @/sugaxjpg Psychic & MedSchool!AU

When Jungkook discovered that he could communicate with dead people, the last thing he expected was that they would be there to give him romantic advice.

wartime child - @ktheist Wizard!AU

raising a baby in wartime isn’t easy. but when your baby starts showing signs of magical abilities, you’re forced to ring up the only other person you know he takes after: jeon jungkook.

birth of an empress - @/ktheist Dragon Slayer!AU

partners for three years and friends for longer, jungkook thought you’d remain so until he saw you with the knight at the merchant’s trade.

alternatively, the friendly neighborhood wizard trying to propose to the infamous dragon slayer in the middle of slaying a dragon? now, that’s classic.

series/two shots!

fear in your eyes - @/gukyi Werewolf!AU

(again, idk if werewolves count but hifksdjcx !!!!)

there’s a werewolf in that forest behind your house, they told you, and he’ll eat you before you can even beg for mercy.

the worshiper series - @/jimlingss

Long ago, there were gods who resided in Heaven -- existing to watch over and protect the universe. Each of them had their own flaws, trials and tribulations; some which were more sparing than others, but these are their stories...

a promise of freedom - @/jimlingss Wartime!AU

War is cruel and its inhumanity has not spared you. Captured by the enemy, you were brought to the front lines to heal their wounded. But after one night of saving a particular man’s life, he swears to fulfill any wish of yours.

one year, my love - @/hayjeon Historical!AU

You forge a marriage contract with the strangely speaking man who suddenly stumbled into your town with memory loss, but little do you know that he’s actually the lost Crown Prince, and a lot can happen between a married man and woman in one year.

demigod!au drabbles - @/hayjeon

an ask in their inbox regarding the prompt: i have a supernatural au prompt! how bout daughter of hades/loner!reader and son of zeus/bully! jungkook?

into the woods - @/junqkook Goblin!AU

getting hurt and stumbling upon a goblin in the forest leaves you completely at his mercy, though you aren’t sure if that’s necessarily a bad thing.

lionheart - @/junqkook Magic!AU

as a sorcerer, it is of the utmost importance that you keep your magic a secret from everyone. when you become prince jungkook’s servant, it becomes increasingly difficult to keep your identity hidden; especially when you fall in love with him.

a royal exchange - @/hansolmates

she’s the man!au where the princess impersonates her brother yoongi in order to finish his degree on time while yoongi is thrusted into princely duties. jeongguk is in the mess purely through room arrangement

knight!jungkook x princess!reader - @/ktheist

a series with 27 parts!

that’s all i can think of off the top of my head right now :(( not gonna lie, half of these probably don’t even fit into either of those categories and i know there are so so so many amazing fantasy/historical fics out there!! i wish i knew them all but i hope this helped a little bit! if anyone has any fic they’d like to rec, feel free to send it to meee :)

and finallyyyyy i leave my following page open for viewing as well so you can check out all of the authors i follow!! please show all of these authors (and many more) some love! <3

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sailorsophiee · 3 years ago

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the relationship dynamics this episode! not you and zack miss jenn! but the ones in our main theater group! and how they all focus on different parts or tropes of a relationship

nina and richard

i personally think nina being on her own and then that talk with miss. jenn during the snow storm is why she’s become more independent. i can’t remember if they’re sophomores???? but now, at least where i’m from is where they start drilling it into your head that you have a future to think of, it’s time to start being independent and finding what you want to do! and that’s exactly what nina has done for herself, and she loves it! she’s starting to realize not every minute of every day needs to be spent with ricky, or the fact that she needs to do certain things to make him happy (pineapple pizza fiasco) that is great and the love the slow decline of their relationship, cause i could never stand them as a couple. ricky��now i’m not gonna give him a lot of flack (even though i can’t stand him as a character) cause he is struggling right now with so many different variables, but the one thing that is the same (or was) is his relationship with nina! everything has already changed so much between the two of them, and he’s begging for that one thing to stay normal. though i can completely understand that want in life, that doesn’t give him an excuse to be a complete dick half the time as thats (as we can see) tearing them apart faster. (he’s also not that big on communication, unless it’s not with nina) so i saw this tweet and i think it’s really important to hear, as i relate too it a lil too much ricky will always love nini, and nini will always love ricky but it’s okay if they fall out of love and end up with someone else. if i had to give rini a trope, i wouldn’t because i don’t think they really fit into any of them (not even the sad ones) the relationship stage, the last part of falling out of love. if we get anything from this breakup that dear god i hope happens, both should be single!

ashlynn and big red

i love these two with my whole heart, because them and seblos have just been great! especially with communication! them fighting in the latest episode well, it broke my heart. i know i previously said antoine had done nothing wrong! but he has, with hitting on ashlynn (even after she said she was with big red) and then making fun of big red! #notcool! for them, i think this is more on big red’s side, i don’t know if he heard the conversation between the two, but it seems like he did after being compared to every “conventually attractive male” in the show. that would hurt! that would hurt anyone who’s ever has had to deal with self esteem! ashlynn sees this, and even feels sorry for her poor choice of words at the end and does want to talk to him! big red is now trapped in that hole think ashlynn wants something more, which is clear she doesn’t! so looking at the promo it does seem big red wants to just forget it ever happened while ashlynn bringing it up hurts! no trope once more, but i had to be a stage of a relationship, probably, this is one of our first conflicts (they had the one at valentines, but you get it) and i do want to talk but i’m scared. they’ll be okay :)

gina and ej are

after some critical thinking i think i still ship these two in theory, like a au type of thing like they bump into each other in the future when they’re both in college! so yeah! besties for now, lovers in the future! on their relationship, this episode (they’re here cause let’s be real probs is gonna happen, with the current set up) i like that if they were to ever really get in a relationship they’d seem like one with good communication and the one where it just feels like a friendship but with cuddling and kissing. we don’t get much of them but from what we do see, these do clearly trust and find comfort in each other. honest to god last season when we got wonderstudies i really just said “i love a good theater friendship” i didn’t expect a full blown possible relationship. i think in contrast to everyone, because they have this friendship right now with a great bond and #communicationskills something that so many people in this show lack! y’all i can’t stress how important it is!! trope! for them! two! best friends to eventual lovers in ze future and right person, wrong time (in the sense they’d get together in the future

sebbie and carlos

disney said “that’s enough representation for today” after the quinceañero episode. our power couple has once again been put in the background (for the most part, i just don’t expect any major plot lines for them) because we never get much with them (unfortunately) i have no choice but to say perfect

if there are any takeaways from this is definitely just communication (though i know it can be difficult for teenagers, but still very important to at least try) :D this took me like three hours for the sole reason after coming back from work i passed out.

#hsmtmts #nina salazar roberts #nini salazar roberts #ricky bowen #gina porter #ej caswell #ashlynn caswell #big red #seb hsmtmts #carlos hsmtmts #seblos #redlyn #rini #rina #portwell

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i-did · 4 years ago

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hi mlm here. so i want to write andreil smut but im a virgin so i have no idea what exactly sex is like. but i do not want to write it for the.... straight women gaze. what are some things that are accurate to write about. this is prolly super nsfw but i dont know who to ask.

Okay so this response took me literally months, and I'm sorry about that. I honestly was so excited when I got this question. I don't know why I put off responding?? But here I go:

CW for discussion of NSFW, STD’s, and a lil homophobia

I bet a lot of people who write smut are virgins tbh, that's not to insult anyone or anything, but like writing is a non physical way to explore sex and fantasies by yourself, so you’re definitely not alone lol.

So you're MLM and want to write smut, (and others who want to get my opinions on writing non-fetishistic smut).

Porn is porn and can have unrealistic circumstances to fulfill said fantasy, such as anything from people messing around in locker rooms to tentacles.

To get a general sense of what is common in MLM sexuality, (rather than the typical feminine gaze that is seen in smut) looking at gay porn and gay porn categories is good insight.

Bear culture, muscle culture, leather culture, etc.

These are obviously still porn and unrealistic, however being attracted to sweat, jockstraps, and muscles is very common outside of porn.

Bear culture is a body-positive movement that started because of the gay community's fat-phobia, age-phobia, and overall shittyness about body hair.

Leather culture is also really big, it started because of the belief that gay men couldn’t be dominant or “masculine”, even in bed. So in America, leather culture was a way a lot of MLM embraced themselves.

Going to pride, you will see many men wearing those leather harnesses, it doesn't indicate a preference of topping or bottoming necessarily, they're just something mlm wear and has grown quite popular in the culture, I've known some men to say it feels like a security blanket for them.

And I think it’s very important to understand these cultures or at least be aware of them on a base level if you’re going to write gay porn.

Also looking at erotic MLM art made by men, there is Tom of Finland, who was very historically significant, and is the most famous erotic gay artist. There is gay literature, one that openly talks about sex quite frankly is the book “We Both Laughed In Pleasure: The Selected Diaries of Lou Sullivan” which is a series of diary excerpts from a real gay trans man where you follow his life up until he died during the aids epidemic. He talks about sex with partners and discovering himself as well as what being a gay man means to him. He has a real love for sex in a way that is very unashamed and interesting to read about. We know that he wrote the latter half of his diaries with the plan of compiling them and publishing them but he passed away and people in his life carried out this wish for him. He is considered a significant part of gay and transgender history because of this, and his diaries are in LGBT museums.

Reading gay poetry, looking at gay art, erotic, romantic, grungy, whatever, and you will find and see how they portray things differently than when it’s not portrayed by gay men usually. I mean there is a clear difference between yaoi and bara and that's the audience and authors. Some yaoi are made by MLM, (well technically their called gei comi, or gay comics in Japanese)

“Also known as ‘gei comi’ or ‘men's love,’ bara comics are by men, for men. There is a yaoi equivalent to this, and it is called ‘gachi muchi’-- it is written by women, for women.” – myanimelist.net (lol)

but more than 90% aren't. I haven't ever heard of a non-MLM bara artist, but I'm sure there's at least one.

Of course, I've seen things depicting MLM just together pretty realistically that didn't feel like it was written by someone who definitely wasn't MLM, but these scenes tend to be more writing in the general sense of art in the general sense rather than porn, which has a huge gap in characteristics between stuff usually written by MLM vs when it's written by women. (sorry about the binary language here)

I know some people don't like any realism in their porn, but I personally really like small details such as prep being mentioned, foreplay, even acknowledgment of the existence of condoms even if they choose to go without.

Especially as an MLM who lives in America currently, the ever-present acknowledgment and stigmatism of AIDS is around us. We think about it, even when we don't want to. An entire generation of MLM, trans people, and a lot of POC were wiped out. Not necessarily a PWP detail, but including discussion of prep, PrEP (the anti HIV medication) and/or getting tested, even for diseases besides HIV, is a small detail that I think is nice. MLM often have to have a moment when opening up a conversation about sex where HIV is mentioned, our dating apps and hook up apps have sections where you put positive, negative, non-transmissible/undetectable, or prefer not to say. The books take place in 2006 so PrEP didn't exist yet, but also the aids pandemic was happening when they were being born and as young kids, so it wasn't that long ago in society's mind. It's still illegal for many trans people and MLM to donate blood despite that the blood is screened for diseases after donation.

Also, some realism I like is when a character isn't getting their ass ate first in the morning. Like, for me that's a huge turn-off because I think “holy fuck hygiene.” specifically with anal play I just really think even casually mentioning “washing up” or basic prep, or if you want more accuracy/details mention time between last meals or “x only ate a salad, so he would be fine”. It's like a joke in the gay community to eat chili fries or some shit on a date to indicate that either there will be no anal, or if there is you’re not going to be the one to do it, because you just fuckin ate those fries to say so.

A cock just going in without prep and no condom is going to A) hurt very bad the body does not do that naturally and can cause injury B) get shit dick.

An also not sexy detail that is common for sex is just laying down a towel so you don’t have to wash sheets. Lube on hands? Wipe off on the towel that you’re on rn. Laying down a towel is pretty normal especially for anal. But this is if you’re going for a much more playing for accuracy sex scene.

Honestly just writing fingering and prep and stuff like that in my opinion goes a long way and also gives the audience more to read.

Also, sex is way more than peen in hole. Get creative, frottage, mutual masturbation, docking? Idk like thigh fucking, fucking buttcheeks but not hole, handies, blowies, anal oral, Neil doesn’t have to be the only one who gets his ass ate and things don’t have to follow formulas, in fact, they’re better when they don’t.

Sex comes in many forms, and like I’ve definitely been with someone and he took off his shirt and I was like what, because he was skinny and clean-shaven and I didn’t expect him to have nearly as much chest hair as he did. I bet honestly Neil has a massive bush, like fuckin, massive.

Andrew and Neil don’t have to like everything the same amount, Neil could be like “I wanna lick your armpit” and gets really off on it, Andrew is neutral but likes that Neil likes it and agrees even if it does nothing for him physically. Honestly, Neil having a sweat kink imo is pretty fitting lol.

Try not to categorize the characters into “the bottom” and “the top”, or “the man” and “the woman”

This is something I see a lot and pay attention to how “the bottom” tends to adopt traits that are seen in straight porn that are over-exaggerated. I’m not saying it's inherently wrong to write someone as slim, but we know Neil isn't delicate, but I personally wouldn't categorize him as slim. He's a college-level athlete and is definitely muscular and defined, he has some bulk at least, he isn’t model lean for sure imo. You also often see PWP where the bottom makes a bunch of noise and the top makes none, or the top grunts and the bottom mewls, these are things I personally feel gives the bottom the role of a woman in porn. I don’t think Andreil have rough sex necessarily, but I do think when Neil does make noise, it would be because it was practically punched out of him by the feeling, and would sound more like a gasp than a kitten or whatever. There's nothing wrong with writing them both grunting, both of their voices being lower. Someone bottoming doesn’t suddenly magically not have secondary sex characteristics and stubble and body hair or a deep voice or however, they’re like everywhere else.

When I read an over-emphasis on Neil’s slim waist and swaying hips and ass I’m like,,, okay someone please mention Andrew looking at Neil’s dick or bulge or shoulders. As an MLM, what do you find hot about men? I like stomachs and arms and shoulders, jawlines, collarbones, asses yes but like in a different way than how I like women’s asses (I’m bi lol) they are smaller and I like them muscled and squared almost. I look at veins on hands and noses and shoulders and backs, I look at a lot and I honestly don't have a type. But yeah so think about what you like, why you like it, what you might want. Or look at what others like, and why and how they want and like it.

what would Neil like, how would he feel about it? And Andrew. I kinda feel like Andrew is low-key masc 4 masc but that's just me lmaoo. Anyways, good luck writing.

#aftg #ask #fandom psychology #fandom culture #osha violation #mailob

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starkeristheendgame · 5 years ago

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okay so i just got my first ever massage today and holy crap it was so sensual. and i was wondering if you could write something where like tony’s had so many massages in his life that he knows where the best spots are and peter is stressed cus of college or whatever and tony gives him a massage and peter cums just from tony giving him a back massage.

Ooohhh, yes! I’m not one for massages personally because I kinda hate being touched by people I don’t know, especially like that, but I’ve given a few to friends and received a few from past lovers, so I hope this is to your liking! Thank you so so much for the prompt! I added a little dry humping in this, too, because cumming just from a spinal massage seemed a lil too unrealistic.

Super healing was all well and good, but Tony knew well enough that it didn’t mean the absence of pain. He’d been around Steve long enough to know that in some cases, it even amplified it. What was feeling your bones and muscles stretching for each other if not painful?

Watching Peter wince and reach for his lower back for the fourth time since they holed themselves up in the lab, Tony knew the answer. The kid had taken a pretty decent battering on the field - No broken bones, but plenty of taut, aching muscles.

“Hey, kid” Tony called, setting down the holo-pen he was using and motioning for Peter to join him. The boy moved happily but gingerly, overcareful of stretching too much as he bounded over to Tony’s side.

“Yes, Mr. Stark?”

“You doing okay? You’re creaking more than I do”. Tony had just began to come to terms with the fact that his age unfortunately hadn’t slowed down. He was verging on fifty, greying at the temples and finding it harder and harder after each battle. He was by no means unfit, but age was unkind to even superheroes.

“I’m fine, Mr. Stark. Just kinda twinges a little” Peter shrugged, and visibly regretted it. Tony cast the kid a pointed look, and he deflated slightly. “Okay. So...It kinda does suck. But only a little! Like, a day or two and I’ll be fine. Hot baths help, too”.

Tony gave a considering hum and reached up to rub at his jaw. “What about massages?” He asked, and Peter blinked at him.

“What, like...Some stranger rubbing you all over while you wear nothing but a towel?”

Tony huffed a laugh. “I don;t know what porn you’re watching, kid, but the majority of places ask you to wear your underwear or a bathing suit”. Peter went a pretty shade of dusky pink, eyes flitting anywhere but Tony’s face as he died a little inside.

“Uh. Well. No to either. Both! I mean...I’ve never had a massage. Its just a little weird, isn’t it? And expensive” Peter rambled, gesturing meekly. Tony supposed it was a little strange, but he was also not ill-advised of the merits of a skilled masseuse.

“Cm’ere” Tony coaxed, motioning Peter closer. The boy frowned a little, but was mostly curious as he stepped forwards, and Tony grasped him by a lithe shoulder, turning him until the kid was facing away from him, and Tony could see the smooth lines of his back through his shirt.

He reached up and set his hands on Peter’s shoulders, brows furrowing as he carefully felt about the honed muscles. God, but Peter was tense. Not coiled like a spring, but he definitely wasn’t lax as Tony pressed his thumbs gently into the meat of his shoulder. Peter jolted in surprise but visibly forced himself to relax as Tony began to knead at him, and after several moments, let out a soft sound.

“Huh. That’s...Not so bad” Peter admitted, when Tony was digging into the space between his shoulders, paddling out the tension across his spine there. Tony gave a light smile and a hum, to show that he was listening to him.

“You feel like someone just caught you jacking off, kid” he chuckled, and then paused. Perhaps...Not the greatest choice in words, and he hurried to wipe them from immediate existence. “I know you got pretty beat up out there, yesterday. How about I book you in with my guy, huh? You can see him whenever you feel too...Tense”.

“I don’t know, Mr. Stark. I mean, I don’t think I want some stranger feeling me up” Peter replied, but it was quiet, distracted as Tony let his hands dip a little lower, to the point where his spine began to broaden out into shoulderblades, pawing at the meat and bone.

“Have a think about it” Tony urged, thumbs pressing against the dip of Peter’s spinal cord, and the boy gave a muffled, sharp sound. Tony almost, almost paused, but he knew pleasure when he heard it, and continued wordlessly. And he was kind of glad he did, because when he took the selfish opportunity to run his hands down Peter’s spine, the kid truly did feel like he’d been tazed or something.

“Jesus, kid” Tony whuffed, petting gently at the locked up muscles. Peter ducked his head and then looked over his shoulder at Tony, almost shyly. Tony greeted him with a small smile and let his knuckles graze the delicate outline of the boy’s spine, not enough to really do enough except indulge himself.

“Alright, here. Sit on this chair, facing the back” Tony instructed, motioning to his abandoned stool. It had a sloped back, and Peter twisted, moving cautiously but clearly interested to see where this was going to do. He took a moment to psych himself up as he watched Peter splay those toned, lithe thighs around the chair, watched the shirt hug his back when he leaned forwards.

But Tony was nothing if not a pleaser, and he stepped forwards, waggling his fingers and then driving the heels of his palms against the small of his back. Peter made another of those soft little noises, and Tony offered a smirk, brows furrowing as he focused on mapping the lines of Peter’s body, each slope and curve and each battered muscle.

Somewhere along the five minute mark, Peter’s head was lolling and on every other press of Tony’s hands he was uttering pleasured, sighed little sounds. It sang through Tony’s veins, catering to every nurturing and giving atom in his body. Peter was growing laxer by the minute, and yet...

“Hey, kid. If you wanna get the most outta this - And this isn’t a come-on, but you ought to be laying down, and I’ve got a perfectly working bed one floor up” Tony remarked, trying his hardest to word it so it didn’t sound like he was being a leech.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter sounded sleepy, but his voice was a little higher, too, hitched like he was trying to contain himself.

“Not a come-on” Tony hurried to reiterate, hands stilling but not leaving Peter’s body. “Massages are done with you laying down, right? So you’re all relaxed and...Easier to mash up like a potato, I suppose. I can do a little magic like this, but if you want the full effect...”

He was aware of how it all sounded, and he was about to take it all back when Peter shifted, and then nodded.

“Okay. Yeah. Um. Are you sure? I mean, its your bed” Peter uttered, Tony stepping back just in time for him to swing a leg around, standing and then sitting again, so he was facing his mentor. Tony snorted lightly, and eyed him.

“You say that like I’m a wolf and its my den”.

“Well. No. But its kinda...Private, isn’t it? Like, its your space”. And. Well, Tony could understand that. He was, in fact, rather comfortable with having his bedroom as his personal space. Especially with the majority of the Avengers living at the Tower now.

It was his space, yes. Even the rare hook ups he’d managed over the years, he took them to one of the spare rooms. But he wasn’t about to tell Peter that, and he certainly wasn’t going to analyse why he was so comfortable with the idea of Peter not only seeing it, but laying in his bed.

“Its not like you’re gonna be rolling around naked in it, kid”.

And.

This is why he didn’t talk to people. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, but a shuffle brought his gaze up and he blinked when he found Peter standing, smiling at him almost meekly.

“Okay, Mr. Stark. It’ll be nice to be able to move around properly again”.

Tony opened his mouth, closed it, and turned on his heel. He’d offered; he couldn’t back out of it now. It felt hideously odd to lead the way to his room, his skin prickling and his mind like a box of angry wasps. He was hyper-aware of Peter’s footfalls behind him, light and steady.

The stairs. The penthouse main suite. Up the short steps and along the balcony. And...Right outside his bedroom door. The actual penthouse was nothing new to Peter - The two of them had spent enough time in here, as had the other Avengers, though it was by far not as heavily populated as the ‘main floor’ of the Tower, now dubbed a communal space.

And yet.

Tony pushed open his bedroom door before he could think too deeply about all of this, and swung an arm out with bravado. “Ta-Da! Here it is. My humble abode. Or...The very top part, at least”.

Tony’s bedroom was...Indulgent. His bed was a super king, and then just a little bigger. Black sheets that adorned a mix of silk of teddy fleece, and snowy-fox style fake fur throws. Ample pillows. The decor was minimalistic but a blend of regal and cool, sleek modern. Steel greys and deep blacks. One entire wall gave a one-way view of the cityscape and could be projected into anything he desired.

Besides him, Peter audibly breathed out.

“I know. Pretty lame, right?” Tony could do with more than 6 blankets. And he could definitely do something more creative with the decor. Besides him, Peter looked affronted.

“My bed came from a garage sale”.

“Ah” Tony considered, then gestured. “Go ahead”.

Like a puppy being told it could get on the couch, Peter went bounding towards it, flopping down near the centre with a delighted sound. Tony’s heart did something that defied gravity, and he let Peter squirm about for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Alright, alright. Roll over”. And he was really gonna have to stop with the puppy analogies before he couldn’t walk down the same street as a dog anymore. But Peter co,plied instantly, rolling onto his stomach with a whine of satisfaction, nosing into Tony’s sheets and...And he took the opportunity to adjust himself briefly, cursing the fact his cock had pricked up in mild interest.

“Alright. I’m gonna avoid any ‘deep tissue’ kinda territory, because you’ve never had a massage before”. And Tony knew from personal experience that ‘flying before you could walk’ was not always the best approach. Peter was looking at him again, blinking doefully and entirely too trusting, and Tony gave a light cough before he set a knee down next to Peter’s hip.

He decided on safe territory, and went back to the boys shoulderblades and upper spine, kneading intently and applying more pressure than he had before, know he knew the boy was safely and comfortably relaxed. Beneath him Peter was pliant and soft, eyes closed, arms crossed as a pillow and doing something utterly unforgivable to Tony’s heart.

He let his hands naturally gravitate towards the centre of Peter’s back, pressing at the easy slope of his spine. Beneath him, Peter’s hips hitched, and Tony fought back a smile. Involuntary movements could be hilarious. He pressed the heels of his palms down, thumbs sliding along the gentle ridges of the bone, and Peter heaved out a breath, hips pressing down into the plush bedding.

It was relatively quiet, Tony focusing on his work and Peter reaping the benefits of it with cute little noises. It wasn’t until Peter moaned that Tony realised his hips were inching quite...Rhythmically.

Doing his best not to alter his hand movements, Tony let his gaze zero in on the boy’s hips, watching as they rolled languidly and minutely against his bed. Something feral opened its eyes within him, licking its great, gaping maw. Tony sucked in a sharp breath and let his weight drop a little more, pressing Peter’s hips against the bed.

“O-Oh” Peter stuttered, and Tony couldn’t help a sly grin.

“Good?”

“Mm” Peter breathed, lips parted. Tony watched, rapt and hungry, gravitating to the space between Peter’s hips. He did his best not to make it obvious, the way he manipulated how Peter rutted against his mattress, but before long the boy was shaking and a steady stream of moans were dripping from his tongue.

Peter seemed to catch himself at one point, stiffening, cheeks flushing, but Tony shushed him cheerfully. “Hey, its okay. At least you’re not screaming in agony” he teased, and Peter giggled, relaxing again.

“I’m sorry. Its just...Its good? I mean, it hurts a little sometimes. But it feels really nice”.

He wanted, so badly in that moment, to make Peter feel even better. To drive his hips down against the bedding until he came. It was possessive and greedy, and he tried to fight it even as Peter’s sweet, high little moans filled his ears.

“Its okay” he repeated, quieter. “How does...Do you feel any better?” He asked, keeping his voice light. Below him, Peter nodded, paused, and squirmed.

“I do, yeah. Tonnes, but...I mean, I’m still a little stiff? In the middle. Maybe...Maybe the muscle is too tight? Or its not the right angle?”

Something twisted within him, warping and bending until it snapped, and he was parting his lips before he could even muster the self-control to murder the thought. “I could...Its not common. For obvious reasons. And feel no obligation to agree, but I could change the angle? Just means kinda...Sitting. On your legs. A little”.

And...Fuck. He wanted to claw the words back in, especially when Peter’s breathing hitched and he whimpered, but...Fuck. Was the kid nodding? The kid was nodding.

“Okay. Yeah. Just...For the...Benefits” Peter near whispered. Tony stared at the back of his head for a little while longer, tracing the spirals of his curls before he sucked in a breath. Right.

“Right” he affirmed, and after a moment, he brought his other leg up, so, so carefully over the other side of Peter. He aimed it close to his knee, so that when he truly shuffled across he wasn’t quite reverse-straddling the teenager. The angle actually was better, because he could pay closer attention to the alignment of his back and the muscle layout.

And now that he had better access, he began to knead at the boy in earnest, drawing soft little ‘uh’s on each press that went straight, unfortunately, to his dick.He couldn’t help the thought that this was quite possibly what the kid sounded like, stroking himself to orgasm in secret, late at night in his room.

“O-Oh. That’s...Yeah, Mr. Stark” the boy half-moaned, shaky and almost surprised, like he hadn’t ever expected it to feel this good.

Tony’s own hips nudged forwards, irregardless of his own permission, until he was all but three inches away from grinding against the teen like a...Well. Like a teen. Tony remembered all those youthful days of rutting against his partners like a dog in heat, the teasing friction that layers of clothing offered.

“Can you...Could you go lower? Like, the bottom of my spine? It feels...tight” Peter sounded hesitant, but more in the way that he typically was when asking anything of Tony. It was still fresh on Tony’s mind that it had taken the kid almost a month of being at the Tower to even ask for a drink.

“Yeah, kid. Okay” Tony agreed easily, surprised at how little his voice strained or wavered. He shuffled on his knees to adjust his balance and lowered the placement of his hands, watching Peter’s spine bow under his touch, hips sliding in an arc against his bed.

The short little hitches had Tony tipping forwards without even really registering it, and when a shuffle from Peter had Tony’s hips just barely grazing his ass, they both paused. Tony was about to open his mouth when Peter relaxed again, fingers flexing then twisting in the bedsheets, and he wordlessly continued.

The squirming increased. The moans grew bolder, less held back. Subtle nudges became flat out grinds into Tony’s luxurious sheets, and each torturous movement nudged them together in bare touches.

One particularly heavy press of Tony’s palms had Peter letting out an honest to god whine, hips pushing back against his hips instead of down against the bed, and Tony breathed out heavy, thumbs digging into his muscles. “Good?” He rasped, and Peter whimpered below him, fisting the sheets tightly and grinding back again.

“Peter...”

“I’m sorry. It just...Your hands. The bed” Peter heaved, burying his face into his arms to hide his shame. Tony found himself squeezing Peter’s hips, swallowing thickly as he looked down to see where they were connected, the jut of his hips flush against that plump, round ass he’d been doing his best not to look at for the past fifteen minutes.

“Its okay” he was speaking before he could even think about it, fingers flexing reassuringly in their perfect, fitting hold before he ran his hand down Peter’s spine, pet at his flank. “Happens to the best of us. Just...Don’t ruin my sheets”.

God. What was he saying? This is why Pepper didn’t let him do things. Or meet people anymore. Beneath him Peter’s little body hitched and he turned his head slightly, blinking back at Tony with wide, vulnerable eyes.

“Wha-?”

“Just relax” Tony cut him off, hands drifting to resume his work on that tight little knot at the base of his spine. It looked like Peter was going to protest, but then he lolled his head back into the duvet, nuzzling it with a low groan.

“M-Mr. Stark” the boy dragged out, trembling just ever so slightly under his hold as Tony drove his hips down against the bedding, and pulled them back up against his hips, where his own cock had begun to swell into a thick rise.

“You’re...Hard” Peter squeaked, and Tony ground his teeth, thumbing at a stiff slope of muscle.

“Yeah” he agreed quietly, and was surprised when Peter’s hips drove back against him. His breath stuttered in his lungs and he folded over slightly, gripping at Peter’s hips as a spark of pleasure jumped through his pelvis.

He fucked forwards against it without thinking, pressing down on Peter’s bowed spine, drawing a moan from both of them. “How close are you?” He ground out, rolling his hips languidly to ride the slope of Peter’s firm ass. Beneath him the boy whimpered and rolled his hips in response.

“Close”.

“That the skill of my hands, or the durability of my bedding?” Tony couldn’t help teasing, and Peter shuddered beneath him, head shaking slightly as he refused to answer. Tony couldn’t even feel affronted - He knew the pleasure of good bedding and sturdy mattress.

They began to move together in earnest, rutting with single-minded intent like Tony was eighteen and driven by his cock all over again (he might not be eighteen now, but the latter still largely applies). Tony braced himself, thighs tensed and body arched over Peter’s, riding his ass like it was all he was born to do even as he kept working on Peter’s spine, digging into the meat and bone until one of Peter’s arms bent backwards, searching.

Their fingers interlocked and Tony moved his arm forwards, bringing Peter’s hand back to a more comfortable position as the signs the boy was getting closer to completion became more apparent. Tony’s own pleasure was coiling through his body, taut like a spring about to release. He felt flushed, heady, cock hot and desperate.

“Mr. Stark!” It was pitched, a half-yelp, and then Peter’s body was jerking beneath him, arching and locking up, torn between fucking forwards and pressing back against Tony’s cock as the boy shuddered through his orgasm, coaxed through it by Tony’s hand on the centre of his back, pressing him down into the mattress.

Peter cums with the most breathtaking sound. A moan warped into a cry, shaking and rich with pleasure and emotion. Has the bite heightened everything? Peter’s senses are always so sharp, so raw. How did an orgasm feel, when even the sound of your own breathing could overwhelm you?

When the kid finally, finally slumps down beneath him, still pinned - allowing himself to be pinned - Tony can’t bring himself to chase his own, heat and guilt fighting an equal war in his gut.

“How do you feel?” He bit out, forcing himself to let up some of the weight. Peter had only consented to Tony making him feel good. And even then...Had it really been consent? He kind of felt like the guilt was winning out of the heat.

“I feel good” Peter breathed, head turned to blink at him lazily, sated. “Really good. I feel...Loose”.

The lecherous smirk is dazzling before he can stop it, palm sliding down the gentle slope of Peter’s spine the settle dead centre on that inviting, round ass, thumb pressing just a fraction into the dip of his cheeks, towards a wet, hot heat Tony knows awaits.

“Want to feel even looser?”

#fanfic #starker #starker fanfiction #starker fanfic #starker fic #starker smut #starker drabble #starker prompt #starker prompt fill #starker request #ironspider #ironspider fanfiction #ironspider fanfic #ironspider fic #ironspider smut #ironspider request #ironspider prompt #sie fics

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rossa-motte · 4 years ago

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writeblr intro, blog.

So I finally decided to create a writeblr blog, and believe me: I've been stalking a lot of you for a while... so hi. I'm Rossa, 21 yo, argentinian (not from Buenos Aires, thank u), writer and obssesed with stories... all my life.

ABOUT ME

I write in Spanish, but I know quite a lot of English, and I plan to study English in college next year. I'm planning on being a translator. And maybe doing it freelance right now.

In my teenage years I wrote like 20 short stories, and started a lot of novels —only ended one, at 12/13 yo. Yikes.

Between 2016 and midst of this year I focused in learning theory on writing and storytelling, because I'm a perfectionist and a couldn't write out of fear (yay!), but right now I'm writing again (not sarcastic yay!)

Before my stories were like a YA Black Mirror, but right now I'm doing more adult dark fantasy, magical realism, contemporary fantasy, surrealism, and just messing around. Genre or litfic? Idk, maybe I'm wrong but I think most of the world doesn't have those categories, we just read and write lol

I'm in this crisis of not knowing what to read —I want to read local stories (hispanic or latinas) but the market isn't as diverse as in English countries, and people (at least in my circles) only read the classics. I also recently left YA behind, but fantasy is still my thing. I'm really looking for the adult book version of Studio Ghibli movies.

Most important, I'm trying to create a platform and community to help hispanic people to write. Knowledge on storytelling isn't much in Spanish, so I'm trying to share in my language what I've learnt these years in English. But I really like the community here, so this is kind of a bonus.

WHAT I'M WRITING

nyctophilia, collection of short stories.

the short stories I've been writing so far.

“love of darkness or night. finding relaxation or comfort in it” — basically I always knew I love night, but recently I found that 11 of my 13 ideas (at the time, now I have more) take time during night. So it makes sense to publish a short story collection based on that.

I'm just at the beginning of it, and just two of the drafts are readable. "Cielo Rojo/Red Sky" and "Nada ni Nadie/Nothing and Nobody".

I really want to share my experience writing short stories after five years of not feeling able to!!

juana, a very character driven novel or a series of short stories.

magical realism or very very soft magic system in a low fantasy scenario.

chaotic found family of a small town in somewhere we can assume is Argentina travel to some big city to become artist and influencers. The problem is that our main girl doesn't want to but can't say no... and she sees the ghost of her dead aunt who never met buut has the same name as her.

I'll start writing it after I feel more comfy with short stories.

it also happens like 80% at night.

white fire, a novel.

one of the novels I wrote as a teen but never ended.

really they aren't the same stories, just the same cast because I love them so much.

dark fantasy, adult, witches, kind of cozy kind of dark academia, religion and cults, based on my knowledge of neopaganism and chaos magick, latino-hispanic-italian lore.

YOU’RE STILL HERE, wanna know more?

I have OCD. Hate to say it's relevant but fear and other topics related to that are strong themes in my stories.

I'm a planster. Mostly pantser I think, but I like to know certain details (main but vague plot points, basic scenery, and characters).

better rewriter than writer.

aesthetic bitch. Pinterest lord and savior.

talking about White Fire is a lil arbitrary, I have like 8 or 9 novels ideas besides Juana... and other ones. I think I might write White Fire after Juana but I can't promise that... I have some interesting shit. I think White Fire is more a confort story.

I'll probably use instagram, megustaescribir, wattpad, sweek, inkspired and maybe booknet and medium for my essays and blogs and all that hispanic stuff. I'm not sure.

but I don't know if publish my stories for free in those sites or try lit magazines.

I would like to be traditionally published one day.

I'll try to translate at some point what I write to English.

if my English is off, please tell me. It's better for me. Thanks!

I also draw.

if you write and resonate with something here, please let me know! I want to know other writers :)

I also don't know shit of how Tumblr works, so I'll probably be messy.

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sammy-gvf · 4 years ago

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We get along (for the most part)

chapter 3

warnings : just some cursing

plot: the local rebel badass girl and lee bodecker have had some run ins, lets see how it goes, shall we?

Previous chapters will be linked, one is pinned on my profile

Climbing my way up the steep and creaky stairs of the chapel, I look up and start to see the sunlight leak through the glass stained windows, taking it step by step and looking at my feet as I walk.

I’m taking my time walking up the stairs though, I really am not in a rush to get back to the hot box of a room they call the chapel. Stopping, I look outside to see Lee standing next to his cruiser. I find myself staring for a moment, I can't put a finger on why I’m in such a trance.

Lee is standing there drinking his coffee out of a plain white plastic cup, I watch as he lifts it up and brings it to his pink lips. His jawline is flexing every time he brings the cup up to take a sip, I can't help but stare. He suddenly turns over to his left and spits out tobacco, his eyes travel up the dirt to the window I’m absentmindedly staring at him through.

“Fuck” I whisper to myself as I duck down below the window. “ I hope he didn't see me” I think to myself. I wait a minute to pop back up and then I suddenly hear footsteps coming from behind me. I look behind me and it's just Mrs. Bodecker, I softly smile and walk up the stairs alongside Ruth in silence. Entering the Chapel, the hot air instantly slaps me in the face and I instantly break into a sweat.

As I slide back down next to my parents, I look back at the space that Lee was sitting in. His wife looks around to see where Lee could have possibly gone off to, so I decide to get up quietly and sit next to Ruth. People stare as I quietly get up out of my seat in the pew and walk over to sit in the empty spot that Lee occupied before he went outside for some unknown time. Ruth smiles and scoots over a bit to let me sit. For the remainder of the church service, Ruth and I just exchanged quiet smiles and enjoyed each other's company.

Standing up and saying a quiet “goodbye”, I step out of the pew and turn towards the door to find a rather pissed off looking Lee Bodecker waiting for me.

I slowly walk past Lee with utter precaution, I’m terrified he will touch me again the way he did not even 3 hours ago.

Now that he has done what he has to me, I feel rather intimidated by him. I won't lose my attitude, not one bit but I'm a little scared of the physical power he could have over me.

I book it over to my fathers car, it looks like I’m the first one out of church. Sighing and my head hanging low, I turn around to sit in the bed of my fathers truck when I bump into something. I look up and find that it isn't something but someone.

Lee Bodecker towers over my tiny stature, as I’m only 5 foot 3.

“You looked quite in a rush to leave the chapel, huh?” he says as he leans up against the side of my fathers truck.

“Lee, I really don't want to talk to you.” I say as I start to turn away from him, I only got a few steps in before he grabbed my arm.

“When your sheriff is talking to you, you answer.” He says with authority, turning me around to look him directly in the eyes

quickly escaping his grip, I back away from him

“ Do you really think I'm going to respect you after what you just did?Also, dont fucking touch me again. Who do you think you are?” I spit at him as he just stands there with his hands on his hips and a smirk on his face. “Go to hell, Lee.” I turn away and start to walk towards the church again to meet up with my family, but he stops me by trailing behind and taking the space in front of me as his.

He spits out the toothpick he had in his mouth and replaces it with a mint. Completely unable to move, he hovers over my ear and whispers “Darlin, you ain't seen nothin yet.” and he starts to stride away from me.

I instantly get goosebumps and the hair stands up on my arm.

Not knowing what to say until he is at least 6 feet away from me, I blurt out

“By the way, met your wife. She's too good for you.” I say as I pop a cigarette in my mouth, I light the cigarette and take a few steps backward, distancing myself from him. Promptly as if complete rage took over, he starts to speed walk towards me and I just stand there watching with a smile on knowing that we won't be alone any longer.

A group of people walk out of the church,chatting and laughing; including Lee's wife, Ruth. Standing on the porch of the church, I see her wave towards Lee and I, only I wave back. I take the last puff of my cigarette and put it out under the sole of my shoe. I cock my head to the side and give him a little “bye, bye” smile and a little wave

Lee gives me a “I’ll get you” look as he slowly turns away to walk towards his wife.

“ Lee! Honey, where were you the last 30 minutes of church?”

My eyes follow him as he walks up to his wife, he puts his arm around her waist and guides her down to his car. As she gets herself into the car, he turns around and gives me a stern look before he steps in. I can't help but chuckle out loud as he tries to look intimidating.

My brother and parents walk up to the car to get in and I see Lees police cruiser slowly drive past my family and I. Looking past the cruiser, I hop in the car and we start to drive away from the chapel.

About 10 minutes later, we arrive home and I hop out of the car to head to my room. I immediately flop onto my bed and groan. I have so much work to sort out and do, college has had me absolutely exhausted.

I go to Knockemstiff Community College, as a business major. I usually prefer to do work at the library or the diner, I just can't concentrate at home. My father is always ramblin on about somethin, he’s a retired coal miner. Always goin on about the news or some drama floatin around town. Thinking about how my father will most likely try to talk about something stupid with me, I decide to grab my things and head over to the library. My friends know i'm usually there around 1 or 2 oclock on Sundays so they usually meet me there.

============================================================

The town of Knockemstiff is not large by any capacity whatsoever, so anyone you see walkin around town, you most likely know.

Looking out my car window, I watch as people walk to the same place I see them go every single sunday. Some goin to the pharmacy, the butchers, the small grocery store we have here, it's all a repetitive process.

Pulling up to the library, I grab my stuff out of the passenger seat and head inside to find my friend waiting patiently at the table we usually sit at.

Knockemstiff has its quirks and this fine ol library is one of them. The gray building sticks out among the rest of them in this lil town. Stepping in, it never ceases to amaze me, the architecture of this library is nothing compared to the town hall. The high rise ceilings make the room look massive and the oak bookshelves give the room a type of glow. I always have enjoyed scanning the many rows and sections, getting lost without a worry in the world.

“Mags! Oh, girl have I got gossip for you!” She says to me and frantically waves me down to come sit with her.

Lilly-Ann Brighter has been my very best friend since high school, we did everything together and we still do. Her parents were not too fond of me, bein the rebellious kid in school didn't give me the best reputation with her parents but they got to know me better and now consider me one of their own. It's been a long journey trying to get Mr. and Mrs. Brighter to trust me with their careful daughter.

I sit down hurriedly and wait for her to tell me, I haven't seen her in 2 weeks so I'm curious as to what she has to tell me about. I get out my books and paper, set them up and wait for her to blurt out what she has to say, she's always been one to tell me all the gossip.

“ You will not guess who moved in nextdoor to me!” She says whispering to me over the table, we may be in a library but nothing will stop her from talking as loud as possible.

“Who? Was it that boy you said you met in your classes?” I say as I open my textbook to the tiny tab sticking out of the top of it, the pages are torn from previous owners and many years of use. I had bought this from the school store, it was rented previously. I grab the cup of coffee that Lilly had brought for me.

“ The Sheriff and his wife moved in yesterday.” Lilly says

Immediately, the hot coffee I was drinking went down the wrong tube, choked a little bit and then started coughing, Lilly gave me a worried look as I slowly got up from the table to walk to the bathroom, just so I wasn't interrupting the other people in the library with my coughing fit.

Arriving to the bathroom, I instantly let out the suppressed cough i was holding in, letting all the liquid that got stuck in my throat come out. Practically hacking up a lung for 5 minutes, I go over to the sink and splash some water on my face and take a drink from the faucet. Looking up at the mirror, you notice bruises slowly starting to form on your chin, Lilly is for sure going to ask questions.

“ Why the fuck are things happening to me like this” I say outloud to myself.

I give my face one last look and I head back out to the main library to study with Lilly.

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finally chapter 3 is out!

dont forget to like/reblog and leave some opinions !

tags- @youcancallmeishita , @raisinbransam , @hillest , @please-buckme ,

@buckysdolls , @nerdy-depressed , @ladyfallonavenger , @do-not-pray-for-me , @not-another-fangirl

#lee bodecker #sheriff lee bodecker #tdatt fanfiction #tdatt #sebastian stan #seb stan #ongoing fic

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tomhardysteeth · 4 years ago

Note

u wanna say anything for spn ending? Today's their last day of filming

Yeah sure! I love how you worded this ask, it makes me want to give a very serious answer. I’ve been rewatching random episodes the past few days and thinking about how much of my life was shaped by this random lil tv show, both positively and negatively, so here we go.

I started watching Supernatural during my junior year of college, when I was grappling with being gay and religious, and had a pseudo-girlfriend who was emotionally abusive. I remember I started watching the show because I had been on tumblr for a while and thought, well this is a popular show on tumblr and looks like something I’d enjoy, so I might as well try it. I remember barely paying attention to the first season and thinking it was kind of silly, and I distinctly remember making fun of it right up until the season 1 finale when that truck slammed into the Impala and I said oh.

I remember sitting in the dining hall between classes, hiding in a corner with my pink headphones and my laptop, watching one episode after the other, completely consumed by it. My personal life was a mess at the time and I was angry and sad and frustrated, but I could forget about everything for a little while when I watched spn. I remember falling in love with Dean Winchester, season 3, when Sam gave him the amulet.

Because I had already spent a lot of time on tumblr, I knew about Castiel. I couldn’t wait to get to season 4, the anticipation killed me. I didn’t really have a choice in shipping destiel, I literally shipped it before I even watched a single episode of the show lol. My first time watching seasons 4 and 5, I remember how mad I would feel every time the opening credits scrolled at the bottom of the screen and Misha Collins wasn’t listed. I cared about almost nothing but Dean and Cas interacting with each other. I was totally enamored by them, by their potential. At some point I got over that and watched the show because I liked the show, but boy did my heart and brain break for destiel.

I broke up with my abusive girlfriend. I started coming out to more people, including people involved in the Christian campus ministry I was heavily involved in, and it was very very hard. It was 2013. The first episode of Supernatural I watched live was the episode where Dean turns into a fucking dog.

I don’t remember when I started reading fanfic, and I had no idea how to read fanfic. A friend invited me to ao3, what is ao3? I didn’t know. I used my email address as my username. I read Twist and Shout and Pie Without Plot and other very popular fics that I knew about because everybody knew about them. I vividly remember the first fics I read because I was 21 years old and had never had an orgasm in my life and believed sex was sinful and so when the sex scenes in fics turned me on, I felt guilty about it.

I quickly got over that and started writing explicit destiel fanfic.

I still had no idea what I was doing. I know the very first fic I ever wrote was a mess, I’ve completely erased all traces of it, but other than that I began posting with abandon. Pretty much everything I’ve ever written for spn is still on tumblr and/or ao3. I was running a Hannibal blog at the time and started posting more Supernatural content than Hannibal content, so I created a sideblog, @deancasheadcanons, and things very quickly got out of hand after that.

I was depressed, I was confused, I was spending my last couple years of college trying to figure out my sexuality, trying to hold onto a religion that was rejecting who I was becoming, trying to find my identity while picking a career path and being sad and being pulled in a hundred different directions. Sometimes I was working three jobs at once, on top of 17-credit-hour semesters. I was getting a degree in a field I did not care about, and I spent every class reading and writing fanfic, scrolling through tumblr, making internet friends, letting my life be consumed by Supernatural. I projected myself completely onto Dean Winchester and partially onto Castiel and did not even realize it.

I started dressing like Dean, and my sister and brother-in-law noticed and assumed I was gay. They were extremely unsubtle in their attempts at getting me to come out by pointing out the flannel and army jackets, and I did not have it in me to admit to them that I was dressing like a fictional character, but I DID tell them I was bisexual.

I went to therapy every week during my senior year of college, and I was embarrassed about how often I talked about my “internet life,” as I called it. I remember having the arbitrary goal of getting 1,000 kudos on a fanfic, and I remember the day it happened for the first time and I remember going to therapy that week and saying that I didn’t feel any different, that I thought getting attention for my writing would make me feel better, somehow, but I still felt the same, and my therapist asked me if I would still be writing if I was the only one who got anything out of it and I said yes. But I was still obsessed with writing things that were meaningful, and despite the fact that I would receive 10 negative/mean anons per day, I never turned anon off because I desperately wanted people to tell me that my writing meant something to them, that it mattered to them. I was fighting with myself every day over my sexuality and my identity and my purpose, and I put all of that on the shoulders of Dean and Cas.

There was also chubby!dean. I had lived my entire life with this inexplicable thing, this shame that I knew I could not share, that I knew I would just have to suffer with for my whole life, and then I joined the spn fandom and found that there were others like me, others that had a fetish and had similar experiences as I did and were drawn to Dean Winchester because there’s no other character that could make eating and gaining weight be as enticing as he makes it (in fanfic). For the first time in my life I had a community of people that I could relate to about a thing that I never thought I would ever be able to talk about with anyone in my life. I don’t remember if I consciously chose to start posting publicly about it, but at some point I did, and I started writing kink fic, but I was still so uncomfortable with myself and so scared of the things I felt, and I tried so hard to temper myself and not offend anyone and not go “too far” and not be too weird and I was so sexually repressed and pent up and full of guilt and shame, and so now when I go back and reread some of the stuff I wrote it feels like reopening an old wound and letting myself bleed out.

I was constantly comparing myself to others and wondering why I wasn’t getting as much attention as so-and-so, and I always made excuses about how maybe my writing was too weird and I was too much and maybe I just wasn’t good enough and I hated myself and wanted to delete everything I ever wrote, but also I’m awesome and receive a lot of attention and get a lot of good feedback but maybe that means I’m just a narcissist! I acted like an asshole online and justified it by saying it wasn’t really me, that I could be someone totally different on tumblr than the person I was in “real life,” but in hindsight, now when I think back on my early 20s, I cannot separate what I was doing in “real life” from what I was doing in the spn fandom. I shared so much of myself with the spn fandom without even recognizing that that’s what I was doing.

And I made mistakes, god I made mistakes, and I tried to be so careful about everything I said but I was also presenting a certain version of myself to the spn fandom so that people would like me (for instance: running a destiel blog and trying my best to hide the fact that I also ship wincest) and still I got in trouble constantly, and I grew bitter and mean because you can only receive the “when are you posting the next chapter?” comment so many times before you want to bang your head into a wall. I became defensive and unkind, afraid to check my inbox because it was a nightmare, and yet unable to turn off anon because, like I said, I desperately needed that feedback, I needed people to tell me that they felt what I felt, that they understood what I was writing and why I was writing it.

I expected Supernatural to give me everything I needed. I fantasized about Dean Winchester being canonically bisexual because I thought it would confirm something in me, that it would somehow make my life a little bit easier. I didn’t want to watch other shows that could maybe help me, I wanted Supernatural to do things for me that it had never promised and would never deliver, and it’s because I was defined by it for so many years. Now that I’m back on tumblr, I’ve been going back through some of my old posts on deancasheadcanons and it’s like reading a stranger’s words. Even so, I find myself telling people “I was deancasheadcanons” instead of “I ran a sideblog called deancasheadcanons” because it really was such a huge part of my identity. What’s wild is that every time I’ve tried to explain it to someone in real life, they just look at me like I’m not making any sense.

It was easy to stop watching Supernatural. I didn’t have cable, and I had been driving to my dad and stepmom’s house each week and watching it on their tv after they had gone to bed. I was in a new relationship with a woman I nearly married, I was back in school for a new career, I was working full time and absolutely did not have time to continue writing fanfic as prolifically as I had done for so many years. I finally reached a breaking point in 2017 and haven’t watched any new episodes since then (I don’t remember the last episode I saw). But now, as I rewatch some old episodes, it is easy to feel the way I felt the first time I watched the show. It’s easy to see why this campy little heartfelt show was a lifeline during my formative adult years.

So it turns out I have never reckoned with any of this, have never written it down, hence the 2k jumble of words you see here. And it’s like, I know that a lot of this may seem silly, trivial, especially for a show that in itself is not very serious, but as it comes to an end I have to reflect on it as a person who put so much of my heart, my creativity, my pain and my floundering identity into it. I am somewhat embarrassed and wish I could respond to this ask with a joke instead, but we’re in a pandemic and I live alone and have had way too much time to think and reflect and become a lot more self-aware, and part of that reflection has definitely been about my time in the spn fandom. I remember thinking the show was never going to end, yet here we are at the end and I felt compelled to type all this out with a desire to, I don’t know, get some closure? Convince myself that I was a whole person, that I wasn’t just a faceless URL posting destiel fics into the void, that my real life was not at all disparate from the time I spent online? In any case, I’ll always think fondly of the time I devoted to Supernatural, and I’ll take the good and the bad and everything in between. Thanks for the nice ask, anon, apparently I needed to get some things off my chest.

#madd replies #long post #spn for ts #this is 2k words i am sorry lmao #wouldn't it be cool if i had any semblance of chill

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orbitariums · 4 years ago

Text

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬! | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟗)

note: eeek i’m so excited for y’all to read this!!! it’s honestly one of my fav chapters. read up, there’s some tea at the end ;) so excited for y’all to read the next chapter.

and i just wanted to thank those who have been reading girls on film from the beginning, i started this in april as a quarantine project that i did NOT expect to blow up the way it did. i pretty much jumped into making a series out of it bc it was what so many people wanted & i’m glad i made that decision. so if you’ve been here from the jump and you’re still here, thank you!!! i’m extremely committed to girls on film & i’m genuinely eager to write even more of it, i have so many more ideas. & if you joined a lil later or just started reading, thank u :’) i appreciate all of y’all. ♡

playlist

warnings: none

word count: 8.8k

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞: 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬! | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

Four slavish years of dedication later, and you were done. You would be done, in just a few hours. You'd sit through a few boring speeches, sure, but then you'd throw your cap in the air. Then you'd really be able to sit in the realization that you finished college, an indubitably incredible feat. You'd been through so much, and so much of it on your own. You were almost entirely independent, especially over the course of these four years. The thought of how much you'd carried on your own back actually made you tear up.

Lucky for you, your best friend noticed.

"Aht aht!" Aaliyah tsked, rushing over to you when she heard you starting to sniffle. She sat next to you on your bed and cupped your face in her hands, wiping away the tears rolling down your squished cheeks. "No crying. Not when your face is this beat!"

"Happy tears?" you said, as if it were a question - honestly, your tears came from a source of happiness and heaviness all at once, from all this deep contemplation.

"Save that for the end, girl," Aaliyah waved her hand dismissively, and you couldn't help but smile, locking eyes with Aaliyah.

"Love you. So much," you said, for probably the thousandth time that day.

"I know! Love you too, sis," she pulled you in for a deep hug, nuzzling her chin into your shoulder. "And this dress is to die for. Don't get your makeup on it, now."

Another one of your accomplishments being called to attention - the fact that your best friend was wearing a dress that you made to your graduation, and so were you. You started out college practically without a clue - it seemed that some years asked questions, and other years gave answers.

"I won't," you pulled away, your hands still on Aaliyah's sides. You lightened up. "Now let's go graduate."

| | |

"Proud of you, YN," your mom smiled warmly.

You were standing in front of your parents, who you actually hadn't seen in a few months, despite them living in California too. You didn't really make it a priority to talk to them - honestly, you never had. Your relationship with your parents had been almost stonelike throughout your life. It wasn't bad, per say, but it wasn't your definition of healthy either. They were sort of just there, playing the role of parents.

They helped you when you needed help, but they were never really there for you. You had never felt comfortable enough to really open up to them. It was just another part of the reason why your relationships felt the way they did, why you were so adamant on protecting yourself and healthy communication.

Being here with them today was nice, but it was almost fake - your sweet interactions with them tasted like artificial sugar, especially when you smiled extra wide, so much that it hurt your cheeks. But you downed it like it was nothing. It couldn't hurt to have them here.

"Thanks, mom," you pulled her in for an awkward hug, then your dad.

You found yourself just standing in front of them, clenching and unclenching your fists, unsure of what to say next.

"We... made dinner reservations for this nice restaurant in town. We thought you might want to join us, to celebrate," your dad offered - at least he was trying, you noticed.

You smiled sadly, because you had already made plans with friends. Still, you weren't sure a dinner with your parents would be your idea of celebration, so, a little selfishly, you were glad.

"Aww, that's sweet of you guys, but I already-"

"Hey!" you were interrupted by Aaliyah's trill as she slid up next to you, holding balloons and what looked like not one, but multiple bouquets. Like always, her whole family came to congratulate her. You kind of wanted to see Aaliyah's parents instead. Aaliyah paused slightly when she saw your parents, who she knew too since you had been close friends for ages. She smiled softly, eyes darting between the three of you, and continued. "Hey Mr. and Mrs. YLN! Wow, it's been a while. Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to talk to YN about our... plans?"

Aaliyah seemed to be looking to you for guidance on what to say- you had planned something for tonight with her, but Aaliyah in no way wanted to interfere with whatever your parents had planned. She knew you felt incredibly neutral towards them, but she felt like maybe this would be an opportunity for you and your parents to finally open up to one another. Her plans with you could wait.

"Hi, Aaliyah, it's good to see you," your dad grinned, and pulled her in for a hug, along with your mom.

"Uhh. I was saying it would be nice, but I have plans with Aaliyah and a couple other people, so."

"Oh, uhm, actually, if it's a problem we can just hang out some other time," Aaliyah suggested, looking up at you for acceptance, shrugging. "And, my family wants to hang out too, so, I won't really be able to hang out tonight. If that's okay. By the way, my parents wanted to give this to you..."

Aaliyah handed you one out of her many bouquets, and you took it with grace, smiling down at the assortment of flowers. She kept looking up at you, and you could tell she was sort of pushing you to take this opportunity for your own sake. She wasn't trying to intervene, but she knew what was right for you as your close friend, and she figured both you and your parents deserved some personal time with each other. You and Aaliyah already hung out a lot.

"Up to you, YN," your mom replied, but by the way she was slightly bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet told you the decision you had to make.

You smiled at everyone, though you were withholding a deep sigh. Tonight would probably be another night of unraveling and healing, you had to prepare yourself. But until then, you would be celebrating.

❁❁❁

Steve was busy, workwise and otherwise. He was out of town on a mission with Sam and he barely had any way to communicate with you. But thoughtfully, he had told you that he wouldn't have his phone, so there was no need to question his silence. Besides, early this morning before he left, he made sure to text you a short but sweet congratulatory message to praise you for your graduating. As brief as the message was, it was genuine and kind, and left you grinning the whole morning through, thinking of him.

Now though, Steve was heading back to headquarters to report back to Fury, in the Quinjet which was being manned by Sam.

"Couldn't you have just flown back?" Steve attempted to make a joke, though in all reality he was tired and just trying to grasp onto sanity - it wasn't only work that was occupying his mind this week. It was also you, and he was twisting his own arm trying to arrange plans to meet you. Doing so discreetly seemed to be a bigger issue than he had anticipated.

"Ha-ha," Sam bleated, a smile on his face. Steve sat down next to Sam in the cockpit, making him look over. "For someone like you, you sure seem tired."

"Ahh," Steve laid his head in his hands. "Just busy. Work and otherwise."

"Otherwise?" Sam intoned. "Do tell."

Steve chuckled and shook his head,

"I can't really wrap my head around it myself."

"Huh. Does it have anything to do with why you've been so happy recently?"

"Gosh," Steve sighed, not even ready to combat the way he knew Sam was about to grill him. "Everyone thinks this is about a girl."

"Woah- I didn't say anything about no girl. You finally got some snatch, huh Steve?"

Steve chortled at Sam's vulgarity, and the topic of the question in general. Ironically, the answer was both yes and no. Yes, if it counted onscreen.

"Shouldn't have said a word, huh?"

"No, you should not have. To be fair though, Bucky has been pestering me to ask you. Don't think you'd tell me if you won't even tell him, though," Sam admitted.

Steve had to admit, the idea of someone finding out before he was ready made him anxious. Not to the point where he was ready to abandon all his plans, but enough to make him feel like he had to be careful. He didn't want to hide the fact that he was happy, he just didn't want people in his business about it. It was the last thing he wanted when it came to you. He wanted privacy, wanted to wait until he was ready to come out with it. He could only hope that if and when he did, the positives would outweigh any possible negatives or doubts. The last thing Steve wanted to do was let anyone down - not because of what you did, but because he knew it sounded rash, whether you were a sex worker or not. So sue him if he didn't wanna tell on himself. Not before he even got to have you all to himself.

And now that he was sitting through the logistics of getting you here, avoiding Bucky's suspicions was like clockwork. He had to be more aware around him, off of his phone, no matter how much he might want to text you. He didn't want trouble in paradise before he even got there.

"There's no girl," Steve said, as seriously as he could. Sam smirked, side eyeing him a few times, trying to rouse something out of him, and Steve laughed again. "'M serious."

"Okay. Hey, listen, even if there was, you know we'd have your back right?"

Steve almost blushed - sometimes he could feel so silly for being so private about the situation. Like he should just stop letting precautions impede him. But his smarts got the best of him every time, and thank god for that. He knew his friends would have his back, after all they weren't just his coworkers. But they couldn't possibly expect Steve's situation to be anything like this. Their reactions wouldn't be basic. Besides, there was more than just work and his team dynamic to worry about - there was the issue of your own safety, booking flights and privacy in general. It was worth a lot of work and a lot of contemplation. Nothing he wasn't willing to do for you, but still, he needed the transition to be as seamless as possible.

"I know, I know," Steve replied. "Just got a lot on my mind these days, that's all."

Sam patted Steve's back, squeezing his shoulder,

"Let me know if you ever need to talk about it. I'm your guy."

"Sure, pal. Sure."

| | |

Back at the Stark Tower, in the midst of their debrief meeting, Steve decided he should let his team know his plans in advance. Not entirely, but enough so that when he did take the short break that he would be taking in order to accomodate you, it wasn't too much of a surprise.

He was sitting at the head of the table, opposite end of Tony, his hands clasped together. It was a bit nerve wracking to sit in front of everyone and tell them this simple thing, because there was so much that would lead up to this simple decision. It was all riding on one thing- being able to see you, in the most practical way for the both of you. And, he didn't want to draw any more attention to himself than he already had by being in a better mood and being practically glued to his phone. Everyone suspected him already. So, he tried to keep his voice steady and his eyes low when he made the announcement,

"I'm thinking of taking a few weeks off. Soon."

"How soon?" Tony asked, cocking his head.

"Not sure yet. Thinking in about two weeks, maybe," Steve replied. "And, I'll still be coming in, just not as frequently. By time off I just mean I'm going to be living in my apartment... not here."

Steve had a nice, but common apartment somewhere in Brooklyn, close to where he lived as a child. He sometimes went back and forth between that apartment and Avengers Tower, but he lived with the others for the most part. When it came to you, he wanted to give you as much attention as he possibly could, given the duties of his job, and that meant that he wanted to live with you for some time. He'd retire from the tower for a while and just focus on you, only coming in when he needed to. That way you wouldn't take over his life, but he'd have enough time for you.

Steve looked around the table, gaging the reactions from everyone. Most everyone seemed fine with Steve's decision, but Bucky was looking at him a little funny, and Sam seemed to have a small smile on his face, whereas Nat was nodding slowly.

"Well," Tony grunted, shrugging. "You are the boss... for whatever reason. Your call."

"Thanks for letting us know," Wanda added in, to cover up Tony's comment.

"Yeah, Steve," Bucky echoed, though he appeared much less thankful, glaring up at him with those striking eyes of his.

Steve shifted in discomfort, clearing his throat,

"Well, just wanted to make sure you all are aware."

"We'll miss you," Nat chimed in deviously, and Steve smirked over at her.

"Won't disappear on you guys, I promise."

❁❁❁

As much as you tried to distract yourself in the few hours leading up to the dinner with your parents, it admittedly made you nervous. Thinking about talking to them in private rang up so many things that could go wrong in your mind. And again, it wasn't like you had a bad relationship with your parents. It was more like you didn't have a relationship at all— which, now that you thought about it, was bad. You just felt like it would be... awkward. It wasn't quite your idea of a nice graduation night.

So, on the Lyft there, to calm your nerves, you decided to call Steve. You hoped you wouldn't be interrupting him or bothering him, considering the fact that he had told you he'd be unavailable for a portion of the day. You had already triple texted Aaliyah, but she was out with family, so she wasn't on her phone. You were chewing on your lip as you waited for Steve to pick up, and you practically sighed out of relief when he did.

"Hi, doll," he said, his voice warm even if slightly tired.

"Hey," you sighed. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Course not," he cooed. You could practically picture the pout on his soft lips when he spoke, and it only made you want to see him in person more. "Everything okay, doll?"

You giggled, your mood already boosted just by talking to him. The fact that he sounded so concerned when you hadn't even expressed your worries yet warmed your heart, gave you a pang in the chest. It also scared you a bit, how much you felt for him, not even having met him yet. Before, you avoided falling for him because it wouldn't have made sense at all, it would've been an issue of safety and logic. Now, you could feel yourself falling for him, and although you were sure you'd be safe with him, it was still something that you could hardly grasp.

It made your throat run dry just to think of it. It was all good, and then some nerves on the side. You still didn't know what to expect. And the fact that you were calling him while you were under stress, looking for his reassurance, showed you that you were in deeper than you thought. But just like Steve, you refused to crack. You had been through enough - you could handle this like a big girl. No more scaring yourself away.

"I'm fine. It's just, my parents came to my graduation today, and they wanna take me out for dinner later."

"That's great!" Steve sounded genuinely happy for you.

You forgot he didn't really know much about how you felt towards your parents. Then you realized that there was still so much you didn't know about each other, even with all the time you spent talking to each other. You figured you'd make it a goal of yours to get to know each other better.

"Yeah, it's cool, but it's kind of... it's weird, I don't know, it's like... our relationship isn't appalling, but it isn't good either. I've never really felt close to them. Like, accepted? I don't know if that makes sense," you leaned your head against the window, grimacing at how poorly you had just explained yourself.

"It makes perfect sense," Steve said, so surely that you felt more confident in your words. He was always so firm.

Everything he said, he meant. Besides, he could tell that you were a bit stressed out. He wanted you to feel secure about the things you were saying, wanted to make sure you felt like you could express yourself without inhibitions. And maybe he could ease your nerves a bit.

"Well, it's just kind of weird between us. It feels like they've never really been there for me, but they've also never really neglected me. It's complicated."

"Sounds like they do all the stuff a parent is supposed to do, but they're just not emotionally available," Steve offered, perfectly putting it into words for you.

"Yeah, exactly that. And, as a result, we've never really been close. So it's hard for us to behave like a happy family. I've just been pretty much independent, I've had to put in extra work to find out what healthy relationships look like my whole life. You know the deal."

And he did. You had talked about your troublesome relationships, specifically your ex. Stece wanted to be gentle with you knowing all that he knew about you and how you felt about relationships, whether they were romantic or not. You were pretty social, but you made lots of executive decisions about who you wanted to be in your life, and just how much you let people in.

"Mhm, I understand. So you're nervous about it because of that?"

"Yeah, but talking to you helps," you couldn't help the small smile that grew on your lips, and you knew Steve was grinning on the other side.

"Well, I'm glad, doll. And if you're looking for advice, I'd say just be yourself. Let it go naturally, don't stress too much about the dynamic. If anything, it seems like they're just trying to get closer to you. Don't let them think it's too late, if you can help it. I'm sure it'll be fine."

"And if it's not?" you asked, biting your lip as a crease formed at your brow.

"Then it's just another lesson learned, and it's their fault. Not yours. It's their responsibility to make you feel safe around them. To make you feel like you can be yourself. If they can't do that, then shame on them," Steve replied without missing a beat, his response making your heart pitter patter.

He was so good with words, and everything that came out of his mouth sounded lovely, especially when he was giving you advice. He actually cared about you, and he made it a point to show you. It made your stomach stir in the best way. He paused, then added,

"No offense to your parents."

You laughed, shaking your head and biting down on your finger. Honestly, you had lucked out. Steve made you feel so much better with ease. Maybe you could just think about him during the whole dinner with your parents, and you'd be in a good mood. Still, he had made some great points, and you felt like it might be much easier for you to talk with your parents now. He had even made you a little hopeful. Maybe you'd have a good time? It wasn't impossible, but it didn't seem likely. And though you still wanted to get it over with, at least you weren't dreading it.

"Hm, I'm sure they'll be fine. But, hey, thank you. I really appreciate it. You always know what to say."

Steve chuckled, thinking back to all the times you'd left him practically speechless or tongue tied, but he appreciated your words.

"No problem. Just want you to be alright."

You breathed in and out, trying to push away the deep feelings that were coming to the surface- you didn't want to show up to dinner with tears in your eyes.

"Thanks, Steve. Listen, I'm at the restaurant. Talk to you soon?"

"Talk to you soon. Don't worry, it'll go great, long as you have anything to do with it."

You chuckled, smiling,

"Bye."

After you hung up, you couldn't wipe the smile off your face. You felt sort of stupid, walking around all dazed with a silly smile, but you were glad your mood was elevated. The reason behind it- it was complicated, but you were grateful for Steve any day.

The restaurant was dimly lit and not too crowded, so you felt like you could relax a bit. Your parents were already there and waiting for you, so you checked yourself in and you were lead over to your table.

"Hi," you smiled softly as you slid into the booth with your parents, the two of them sitting on the other side. "Good to see you again."

"You too," both your mom and dad greeted you, warm smiles on their faces.

All three of you seemed to be a bit nervous, and this was something you took note of. Your parents just wanted to have a regular conversation with you, wanted to connect, and they were a bit anxious to do so.

"So, congratulations," your mom kept grinning, and you couldn't help but sit back a bit, feeling like you needed to absorb the effort they were making to be nice.

Your dad slid an envelope across the table, and you opened it with a nervous chuckle, reading the letter they wrote you. It was short and sweet, complimenting you on your accomplishment and how proud of their daughter they were. And in the envelope there was a check, for five hundred dollars - which made your brows raise. Your parents were always able to support you financially, but you hadn't expected this much. You didn't want them to think they could just buy your accompaniment.

"Wow," was all you could say after a few moments of silence as you composed your thoughts.

"We figure you could treat yourself," your father reached over and patted your hand, and you struggled to grin.

"Yeah. Sure. Treat myself, yeah," but really, you were just thinking of how much money you made on your own, from camming, your internship, and soon from your brand.

"Don't think too much about it, YN. I know you love to overthink. But it's for you, and all your hard work. We... we just want you to know that we love you," your mother explained, and you could see the way her eyes softened looking at you.

She was trying. They both were. But, you felt like it was a bit overdue. Maybe they just figured that now that you were grown, it might be easier to start up a fully developed conversation about it. You just wished this idea of theirs had manifested a little earlier.

Just as your mother was about to continue, the waiter came to the table, and asked what you wanted to drink. You couldn't be any more grateful, and you answered quickly,

"Dirty olive martini, please. And thank you."

You weren't one to depend on alcohol, but you figured just a bit would get you through this more efficiently. You weren't turned off by your mother's proclamation of love, but it was a bit awkward. You weren't one to express emotional sentiments too often to people who you didn't feel one hundred percent comfortable with.

The waiter left and you were left with your parents, who were still smiling at you. You felt like screaming at them to stop, but you remembered Steve's words, and you relaxed a bit. You had to at least give them a chance.

"As I was saying, we want you to know that we love you. We know we've been a little distant throughout your life," your mom continued, and your dad nodded, putting an arm around your mom's shoulder.

"Right. But, we really want you to know how much we appreciate you. You've changed our lives for the better, even if we don't show it one hundred percent of the time," said your father. "We don't want you to live on feeling like you didn't have the best relationship with us."

You nodded, taking in all of their words, and folded your hands together. You cleared your throat before you continued,

"Um. I... I really appreciate you guys expressing that to me. And honestly I'm glad you took it upon yourselves. I guess I just wish, you know, that it hadn't taken so long."

Your mom laughed, understanding you,

"We spoke about that, your father and I."

"Huh. Why did it take so long? I mean, I'm your daughter, but I've never once felt truly close to you two. I know you love me, and I know you care about me but... it's been so hard for me to even express myself to you for so long. I guess I just want... I need to know why," you sighed, feeling troubled again.

Both your mom and dad shared a look, and you watched them take their time to answer you.

"I guess we just didn't know how to be emotionally open with you. We were there, but not fully, and it's a fault of our own. When it came time for your graduation, we realized you were moving into such a new part of your life. We didn't want to just keep acting like we were fine. And it took a while for us to address it because we didn't know how, just like we didn't know how to be open with you," said your father.

Again, you could understand where he was coming from, but the longer you listened to them, the more issues you found with the things they were saying. You weren't necessarily resentful of your parents, but you grew sort of bored of the fact that you always seemed to know better than them how they should treat you. You didn't expect them to hold your hand, and without your upbringing you wouldn't even be the person that you were, so in a way you were grateful. But it just seemed silly that they didn't know how to communicate. You were the kind of person who valued good communication, anything other than that irritated you.

"Huh," was all you could say, taking everything in.

"Dirty martini, a beer, and pink lemonade for all of you," the waiter came back, serving the drinks to all of you.

You thanked him quickly, hardly paying attention, immediately taking a big sip of your drink. You hoped refills were free. You would need as much as you could get.

"Thank you," your mother's warm voice came back into your mind, and you could feel her eyes on you, observing you as you sipped loudly through the straw.

You pulled back, blushing a bit. She merely smirked, nodding over to the waiter who was walking away now, but not without looking over his shoulder at your table again.

"What?" you asked, your eyes wide and naive, and your mother chuckled,

"You don't see the way he was looking at you?"

"Hell, I saw it," your father echoed, and you stared at them, your eyes blank, your brain scattered.

What the hell was going on? They were making such an effort to be relatable. And you were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn't feel like you were receiving any special treatment from said waiter, nor did you give a rat's ass.

"I... didn't notice," you uttered a fake chuckle, raising your brow.

"Oh, he's in love. No surprise there, you've never had much trouble with boys," your mother waved her hand, and you nearly snorted. She had no idea. Sure, guys thought you were pretty in high school and all, and you had your share of flings. But relationships? There was always trouble. "You know what, I was wondering if you were seeing anybody?"

"I'd be surprised if you weren't. But you're a bit overqualified for most of these guys. Are you seeing anyone?" your dad pressed on, and you couldn't help but feel cornered, especially because of the current situation you were in with your relationship with Steve.

No one in your social circle knew about it, it was something you were deliberately working to keep private. It wasn't something you saw yourself revealing anytime soon, because you simply had no reason to, and you were smart enough to know it would only complicate things. Luckily, it hadn't complicated your life or friendships, but maybe you'd tell just Aaliyah at some point.

You nearly choked on your own spit, trying to remain calm, and failing. When you cleared your throat, you recuperated, took a big sip and replied, mindful of their anticipating eyes on you.

"I'm... not currently seeing anyone, no. Uhm, would you excuse me, for a second? I have to use the restroom."

You hardly waited for them to give you the go before you scrambled out of your seat, grabbing your phone quickly, and taking another long sip of your drink before you power walked to the bathroom. You pulled out your phone once you were in there and started texting Aaliyah. You knew she was with her family, and you didn't want to be rude, but you were honestly going through it, and that was what friends were for anyways.

YN | aaliyah, this is URGENT. SOS!!!

Liyah | BITCH!! what what what

YN | my parents are... insane. they keep being all affectionate, it's driving me crazy.

Liyah | yn... sometimes you confuse me tbh. isn't that a GOOD thing? it's what they've failed to do for the past 22 years.

YN | exactly! which is why it feels so fuckin weird right now. and they keep asking me about men... how do i break it to them that there is absolutely no one and there won't be one for a while.

You were lying, because there was a man. And in that retrospect, you had technically lied to your parents. You didn't need them asking questions, not when the man was Steve Rogers. But Aaliyah didn't know that - she still figured you were in your independent single woman phase. And technically, you still were both independent and single. But you wouldn't be surprised if Steve changed you being single real soon.

Liyah | listen, i love you, but i think you're just resisting because it's all super new to you. i get that it's their fault and that they can't just switch up, but they're trying, and i think you know that!! just let it happen, yk?

You sighed. She was right. You were resisting. Steve had made you feel less nervous about the situation, but now that you were actually in it, you were nitpicking everything that you felt was going wrong. You just didn't understand why it took them so long to open up to you, why you had to live your life this way. It all seemed so sudden. But maybe, you would just have to accept it, and let it be. Maybe it was the universe's way of telling you that things were going to get easier. You texted a simple: "you're right, love you," and fixed yourself up before heading back in. You'd be less begrudging, but you still needed a drink. Or two... or three or four.

The rest of the night you let your parents dote on you, as unnatural as it felt, and with every compliment you took a sip. And as much as you valued communication, you found yourself willingly shutting down, letting your parents insist on loving you like "they knew they should've been", while you happily sipped away at the growing number of martinis you were receiving. At some point, you knew you should stop, but you had gone overboard long before you knew it, and you had barely even touched your food.

"Honey, did you hear me?" your mom asked, and you looked up from the bottomless pit that was your drink. Honestly, you hadn't spoken much the whole dinner, at least not what was on your mind. And right now, you were feeling like you had a lot to say, that was all bubbling up too fast.

"Hm?" you hummed, distracted, your eyes bleary.

"We were saying we wanted to maybe spend the week together, you know, bonding? We've made a rough itinerary of stuff to do."

You sighed loudly, not able to hide your despair and slight annoyance. You appreciated the effort, but why wasn't this enough for them? Why couldn't they just gain some clarity, feel better about themselves now that they thought they had redeemed themselves, and go on about their lives? You tried to think about the things that Aaliyah and Steve had said, but it was hard for you to be mindful and not nitpick or purposefully reject their approach when you were drunk and hadn't even spoken your mind the way you wanted to. You needed them to know how you really felt.

Your parents could tell you weren't satisfied, and glanced at each other shortly before looking back over at you.

"I understand that you may not think this is the ideal way to bond. I know it's been far too long, but-"

You interrupted your dad, the words spilling out before you even had a chance to really think it out,

"Mom, dad, I don't think you know me at all. I mean, honestly. And I get that you're trying to get to know me but... you can't just say it's been far too long and think that this solves everything. I know you think that you're doing something good for all of us, mainly yourselves, and I appreciate you trying, but I'm at a point where I just can't accept delayed communication. You're telling me you didn't know how to love me? I'm your daughter. You practically threw this at me, this... intervention, this facade of solving our issues, which were unspoken until now. Do you even know what I've been doing with my life, besides attending college?"

By the looks on their faces, you could see that they were miffed, unsure of what to even say. You knew this wasn't the "right" way to talk to them, but you couldn't stop now. Your brain wasn't clear, but you were saying everything you were thinking.

"I mean, fuck! I'm a camgirl, for god's sake. And I never thought I would've been telling y'all that, because you've never even made me feel comfortable enough to tell you the most basic shit about me. And if this changes how much you respect me, I don't know what to tell you. It's what the fuck I've been doing and it's led me to meet people that are more emotionally available than either of you ever were. There's so much shit about me that you just wouldn't know because you never seemed to care to know. And now, you're trying to solve whatever issue we have and not even... I mean, it doesn't seem odd to you? You're pretending this is normal, like the way you've acted was ever normal. Shit."

You knew you were rambling, and definitely saying things that wouldn't have left your mouth if you were sober, making confessions that weren't even necessary and things that you knew you'd probably regret. But your mind was running a million miles a minute right now, and you had shut down all your coping mechanisms, until all that was left was word vomit. Normally, you wouldn't behave like this. You had learned enough how to handle tough situations that came as a surprise - Steve and your ex taught you that. But something about this actually felt empowering.

You didn't feel like you were moving backwards when it came to the long healing process that you were still guiding yourself through. Was it the most efficient, ethical way of expressing yourself? Maybe not. But you didn't think you would be nagging yourself about this night and how you had communicated. It wasn't that you didn't care, but maybe that you cared just enough — for yourself. You had to be true to yourself. It was essential to your self care. Besides, you hadn't gone off on somebody in a long time. Even if you were slurring your words, you'd made your point.

You'd literally left them speechless, and as for yourself, you were done. With a big heaving sigh, you gathered up your stuff, including your drink, and muttered,

"I'm calling a Lyft home. I'd appreciate it if you just... left me alone. For a while. And please keep the check."

You fished out of your purse for the amount they'd given you, leaving it on the table and walking away. It was your luck that they really did leave you alone, and your luck that you were deliberately choosing not to obsess over how that went down. Because honestly, you weren't bothered by it. You had said your piece. It was messy, it was raw, and there was nothing you could do about it. You were sure nature would run its course. For now, you were too tired and drunk to give a shit. By the time you got home, you knocked out on your couch.

| | |

In the morning, you woke up to many missed calls and texts from your parents, including a text from Steve who was checking in to see how the night went, as well as Aaliyah. You wracked your mind trying to remember what had happened last night, and felt a drop in your stomach when you remembered the things you had said, specifically one thing in particular.

I mean, fuck! I'm a camgirl, for god's sake.

It wasn't your best moment, but you didn't regret anything else you had said. Still, your hangover was a bitch. You spent a chunk of the morning in complete silence, to ease your throbbing headache, and went through a few remedies hoping to fix your hangover at least a little. You ignored the missed notifications on your phone and just decided to focus on yourself for the first part of the day, chugging water and taking vitamin B6.

It was when your headache lessened that you decided to take a look at the aftermath, starting first with your parents. You avoided all their texts and instead listened to the voicemail from your mom, which they were both speaking on.

"YN, we're disappointed in the way tonight went. We wanted to have an open conversation with you, and it saddened us both to see that this was the result," your mom spoke first, making you roll your eyes, then your dad.

"But after some reflection, and a long conversation between your mother and I, we realized that you made some valid points," your dad continued, and you narrowed your eyes, confused — in all honesty, you had expected utter disappointment and you even geared yourself for manipulation.

The typical "how could you do this to us?" But that wasn't what you were getting, and it forced you to look deep inside of yourself. You still didn't regret speaking your mind, but maybe that was all you had to do. You didn't have to abandon any chance of reconvening with your parents and building a relationship with them. If anything, it was only going to help you grow. You had every right to be hesitant and feel spiteful for the way they brought it up and attempted to address it. But you knew you didn't have to resist always.

You just needed time to yourself. You would reconvene when it was right. But right now, tensions were high, and you didn't think it was the right time to try to patch up your relationship. Soon, but not now. Your parents weren't villains. They just didn't have a fucking clue. And you were rightfully angry about that, for feeling like they were trying to squeeze their way into your life now when you had made a life for yourself, when you had accepted the relationship, or lack thereof, a long time ago. It was a cycle with people like this, with all of your relationships. And you realized the universe wasn't out to get you. You just had to work out the kinks. And one day you'd really be at peace with all your relationships.

You continued listening to them, as they told you that they would try again when you were ready, and even thanked you for your honesty. So, surprisingly, the dinner had gone better than expected. But the real home run came at the end when your mom said,

"We're proud of you. And we support you in whatever you choose to do. Call us back."

Now that was a surprise. You were glad for everything else you'd said, but you hadn't exactly meant to let your career choice slip. But to hear that they actually supported you, when you had expected everything but that? It kind of meant the world to you.

You found yourself sniffling up unexpected tears as the voicemail ended, and straightening up. You sat there for a good five minutes just thinking, reflecting on the whole night, when you decided to reply to Steve's text from the night before.

Steve ❤️💙 | Hey! How'd it go with your parents?

Hmm. How to reply?

YN | i thought it went bad, but surprisingly it went better than i realized? call me when you can, i should fill you in.

You put your phone down then and sighed out, sinking further into your couch. It was comfortable being alone, only surrounded by your thoughts. And in a way, you felt a sense of clarity. Issues seemed to solve themselves these days. You'd talk to your parents soon. You were just glad there wouldn't be anything in the way of creating a real connection any longer.

A week and a half later, you were sort of just letting life take its course. You called your parents back, and told them that you were willing to try again, and that you didn't know when, but it would be soon enough. You told them that you appreciated their efforts, and that you wanted to try as a whole to create a bond. You couldn't hold on to your resentment forever. Steve helped guide you through it, talking to you whenever he could about the situation, and about other things.

You didn't bring up the prospect of the two of you meeting, because he had reassured you a week before that he was making plans, and essentially told you to be patient. He knew you needed the security, needed to know that this was going to happen because you didn't like empty commitments. So he kept you updated. But, not all the way.

Within that week and a half, you had been out with Aaliyah more times than you could count, celebrating and partying and talking your asses off. You'd slept over at her place, she'd slept over at yours - you spent almost every waking day together, processing your new life post graduation. You knew you didn't have to start work right away, so you would enjoy the new free time on your hands, while being mindful. Soon enough, Aaliyah would be going onto higher education, and while you didn't have a set job or further education plan in mind, you had a lot going on. Getting a job wouldn't be a problem, and your brand and camgirl sessions were still a factor. In fact, you had made your first sale that week - to a customer named Natalie. You were over the moon with joy about it, and it was just cause to celebrate with Aaliyah once again, reveling in the fruits of your labor.

You were getting somewhere, and it was like you were on fire, surging with possibilities and newness and this feeling of "what's next?"

The one day you weren't with Aaliyah, you woke up alone in your apartment, on a lovely sunny day, the sun waking you up as it filtered through your shades. You woke with a pleasured sigh, scratching the nape of your neck, and hopped right into a cool shower, rinsing off the light sheen of sweat that had gathered on you while you slept, due to the heat of the spring, which was slowly becoming another Cali summer.

In the shower, you lathered body wash and various skincare products on your body, taking the time to appreciate your skin. You were grateful for how well you took care of your physical and mental health - it took a lot to be as glowy as you were. And listening to music in the shower like you did, only helped to raise the positive vibrations you were always chasing. You were the picture perfect happy California girl, but there was a lot of work behind the scenes to have that image. Not that you had to try hard to be a beach babe, you were just naturally like that, but actually being happy? That was a whole nother journey down a road that you were actually willing to take.

When you got out of the shower you slipped into a loungewear set that once again, you had made- a loosely fitting cropped crewneck with matching lavender sweats. You quickly snapped a picture of yourself in the full length mirror in your bathroom and sent it to Steve with intent, knowing he'd die for the way the sweats hung low on your waist and hips, and how you were still sprinkled with cold shower water.

As for the rest of your day, you didn't really have any plans. Maybe brunch by yourself, and lounging around watching TV. Maybe you'd even surf later today. It was too nice of a day not to.

All that goes to show, you weren't expecting the doorbell to ring. You didn't invite anyone over, and you hadn't ordered anything. You furrowed your brows at first, then walked over to the door and opened it. To your confusion, there was nobody there. Then, you looked down to see a bouquet of flowers - roses specifically, all colors, even.

Sunshine yellows, sultry reds, pure whites, girlish pinks, even vibrant blues and purples. You wanted to smile, but you were honestly confused. Who was sending you roses? And there was a sleek black box next to the roses. You gazed over it for a minute trying to spot a letter, a name, anything. Nothing to be found.

You gazed out of your apartment door, craning your neck as you tried to catch the person who'd delivered the roses and mystery box to you. Maybe a mistake? You got gifts from your customers often, but you had a P.O. box for that purpose. You bit down on your lip, and crouched down to take the unexpected gifts in. You closed the door behind you, and set the roses down on the table, as well as the box. It was a little suspicious, but your gut feeling told you it was fine. The worst thing was that it was a mistake, and you'd try to find out whoever these belonged to - then again, you really liked the bouquet. How unique.

You opened the box first, and your eyes widened when you saw what was inside - a cut out lace bodysuit with straps all around, white, and a satin robe that was a more delicate light pink. Oh yeah, this definitely wasn't for you.

You closed the box, and moved the roses to the other side of the table, which was when the envelope fell out from the bouquet onto the floor. You rushed over to pick it up, eager to see who it actually belonged to. An audible "hm?" left your lips when you read your name, written in perfect cursive. You blinked a few times, and the gears in your brain started to turn. Steve. Steve! It made perfect sense. You were honestly surprised that it didn't register the moment you saw the gift. Maybe you'd had too much sun - nah, that couldn't be it, you could never get enough sunshine.

Realizing that it was from Steve generated an incredible amount of excitement in your body, like your engines were revving and you were ready to go. You were practically shaking just out of happiness. The fact that he had the consideration to send you a gift to your home was something you couldn't even register. He was always so kind to you, and of course you hadn't expected any sort of gift from him, for graduation or otherwise. It was just the kind of gentleman that Steve was. And, you hadn't received flowers from what some may call a romantic interest in a long time. It almost made you tear up to think about it.

You huffed out a laugh, then started to giggle uncontrollably, like a schoolgirl whose crush just asked her to the prom. Your hands trembled as you went to open the envelope from Steve, reading the letter.

You read the words in his voice, kind and firm and handsome:

"Dear YN,

I wanted to really congratulate you on graduating. It's a big achievement, even for a big girl like you. I know you will genuinely go on to do amazing things, and I'm so proud of you. I'm not sure whether this is overdue or far too early, but I wanted to get you a gift anyway. I hope you love it. You know, Moonrose? Moon. Rose(s). I tried."

You looked over again at the flowers - roses, of course, and how could you miss the little crescent moon decal that was carved into the vase? He really had tried, and been so fucking considerate. Now, you really were crying. He was so sweet without you having to ask him to be sweet, so unlike so many of the relationships you'd had in the past.

And, he tailored the gift to be extremely specific to you. Even if he had just sent you a single daisy, you would've been over the moon. But man, had Steve thought this out. You half-laughed, half-sobbed. You had no choice but to fall for him. You continued reading.

"Anyway, enough about me. Hope your post grad life is everything you wanted and more, I'm so glad you're letting me follow you on this incredible journey of yours. You really are unbelievable. Speaking of more, look inside the envelope one more time.

- Steve.

P.S. I thought the lingerie was cute, think it would look even better on you. Hope it's not too forward of me."

You wiped away your happy tears. You wanted to read the letter in his voice over and over, but you figured you'd look in the envelope and reread the letter later, until it got deep into the day and you hadn't done much of anything else. As for the roses, you wanted to keep them for as long as humanly possible. And as for the other gift, well, realizing that it was from Steve made you blush. You didn't expect that from him, but it made you laugh to think that he might have been worried that it was too "forward." He'd literally seen you naked more than a few times - what was a little lingerie gift? It was extremely intimate, and you appreciated that. He'd definitely be getting lots of special pictures from you later.

You set down the letter with a grin on your face that wouldn't go away. You were beaming, and only positive thoughts soared through your mind, matching the pace of the butterflies in your stomach. You looked inside the envelope again as instructed, giddy with delight. Your heart stopped, because what was inside was the biggest surprise of all.

A plane ticket.

note: eeek you’ve made it to the end of this chapter!!! tell me y’alls thoughts!!!

adding tags later :’)))

#girls on film #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers reader insert #steve rogers x y/n #yn #reader insert #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel series #marvel smut #marvel reader insert #captain america #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #orbitariums

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cdyssey · 4 years ago

Text

Headaches

Summary: Four weeks in London later, both Lyra and Mrs. Coulter have full heads.

AO3 Link

—

One quiet night, four weeks in London later, Lyra sits on the couch, pretending to read some history book that Mrs. Coulter insisted upon, while Mrs. Coulter herself is curled up in the chair opposite, scrawling notes in the margins of a thick book. Her loopy handwriting is pretty and small and illegible to Lyra, who never learned how to do cursive. (She ducked out of those particular lessons by feigning chicken pox; Roger obligingly dotted her with berry juice, snickering a little as he poked her right between the eyes.)

Mrs. Coulter always looks pretty, but Lyra reckons she’s the prettiest when she’s got her hair all down, and she’s not dressed to kill a man. Like tonight, for instance, she’s got on a silky robe, lavender and luxurious, its hem pooling like liquid on the floor. She seems ethereal, like a fairy almost, fragile and elegant and light, and it’s with a fond smile that Lyra remembers the conversation that they had at the beginning of all this, when they established what it means that she’s comfortable enough to wear pajamas around Lyra...

Pantalaimon, in his favorite ermine form, urgently nudges her hand, calling her back to her senses.

But think about it—that was weeks ago, Lyra, he whispers into her mind. Shouldn’t we be focusing on Roger? Shouldn’t she...? She promised...

She said to trust her, Pan... maybe she’s working on it right now, readin’ that big, fancy book of hers…?

I highly doubt Roger’s going to be found in a book, he returns crossly, turning into a wasp hovering next to her face. The buzzing of his wings catches the golden monkey’s attention; he’d been heretofore slinking up and down the stretch of floor next to Mrs. Coulter’s chair, looking strangely restless.

Surprised, Pan promptly pops back into his ermine skin again, landing on top of her chest with a neat thud.

Real smooth, she snaps, glaring at him over the top of her book.

I can’t help it!

“Lyra, dear?” Both Lyra and Pan look up to see that Mrs. Coulter’s attention has also been snagged from across the room. Indeed, she and the monkey both have directed their undivided attention towards them now, and their dual intensity is enough to force Pan to turn into a kitten, pressing his gray paws clumsily against the fabric of her shirt. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Lyra mumbles immediately, her cheeks feeling hot, “just thinking about a lotta stuff, you know?”

“The kind of stuff that makes your head feel full, huh?” Mrs. Coulter’s brow bends sympathetically as the monkey resumes his methodical pacing, back and forth and back again, his tiny hands clicking against the sleek wood. Pan watches him, a little discomfited, a little mesmerized, wondering why he’s so cagey tonight.

“Exactly!” Lyra exclaims. “That’s it. My head’s just a lil full.”

“Ah,” Mrs. Coulter sighs, the gesture less sound than susurrus, “I know the feeling.”

And she raises the thick book she’s reading, allowing Lyra to get a good glimpse at the text for the first time. To her surprise, her guardian’s elegant handwriting isn’t the only part of it that’s entirely incomprehensible to her. Indeed, the tome seems to be written in an entirely different language.

Or, more accurately still, it looks like English would if someone completely didn’t know English and was just making excellent educated guesses.

“Latin,” Mrs. Coulter supplies, correctly interpreting the confusion in Lyra’s face. “The liturgical language. I began to learn it when I was around your age.”

It’s an impressive statement, communicative of just how intelligent Mrs. Coulter is, but frankly, Lyra isn’t all too surprised anymore.

This lady seems to know everything, answering every question that the twelve-year old has with patience, kindness, and poise.

Even the little things.

The stupid ones.

Like how anbaric lights work.

Or why the sky is blue.

She won’t give you a straight answer about Roger, though, Pan reminds her stubbornly, kneading her pajama shirt with his claws.

Lyra works hard to ignore him.

“Looks fancy,” she replies, “and hard.”

“It’s most certainly both,” Mrs. Coulter shakes her head, replacing the book on her lap. “I used to be able to read it so fluently when I was in college, declining nouns like a Roman conqueror... but now, out of practice, out of touch...”

“—your head feels all full,” Lyra finishes, tilting her head sympathetically.

“Precisely, darling.”

And for the first time in a long time—perhaps since the very first week of their acquaintance—she studies her guardian's face, deconstructing it like one of the math problems the Librarian used to keep setting in front of her. And her findings prove thus, the variables all clear—beneath the mask of her gentle smile, there’s an exhaustion about Mrs. Coulter.

Slight.

Subtle.

Tinged with the indefinable manic energy of someone who works and works and works.

Staring at the faint lines beneath her arctic blue eyes, Lyra suddenly thinks of Lord Asriel for some reason. As driven as he is, as cold and as fierce and as clever, sometimes, on his rare visits to Jordan College, she’s noticed that he looks a little exhausted, too.

“If your head feels all full,” Lyra asks, “why don’t you stop for awhile? Try again in the morning?”

The monkey briefly pauses in his tracks, staring at Lyra with open curiosity—tender, probing, mild—before continuing onwards, a dutiful soldier committed to his guard.

“Believe me,” Mrs. Coulter sighs, “I’ve asked myself the same question, but my employers... they’re always expecting me to produce innovative material, even when my project is more ambitious than their wildest dreams.”

Her voices raises a little at the end, and the golden monkey, his face turned away, growls lightly, his beautiful tail stiffly coiled.

Pan transforms into a monkey, too, empathetically trying the emotion on for himself—the pent-up frustration of never feeling like he can do enough.

The form’s a little strange, but it kinda fits, too.

Because Lyra thinks about Roger again.

About how there’s so much more she can be doing to help him.

“Stick it to ‘em, Mrs. Coulter,” she says, sudden fierceness in her voice, flooding passion. Pan is a wildcat on her lap, black hackles raised. “Seriously. If you know you’re better, forget all the toerags that don’t get it.”

Mrs. Coulter’s eyes widen in quiet surprise, mouth slightly parted, before she suddenly breaks out into a laugh—sudden, sincere, and musical—the faint lines in her face creasing pleasantly. Even though he continues to pace, the monkey’s expression softens incrementally when he comes back around.

“My, my,” she chuckles, “what coarse language... but thank you, Lyra. I appreciate it. Sincerely.”

And she gives Lyra another one of those radiant smiles again, the one that she loves so much, that makes the girl feel like she’s maybe, very possibly loved.

And Pan, feral though he appears, brushes against her cheek, purring.

“But, since we’re trading secrets now,” Mrs. Coulter continues, her brow furrowing above her eyes, “why is your own head full, dear? Feeling tired? Is it bedtime for you?”

Lyra’s nose automatically wrinkles in disdain. In London, she’s had a strict bedtime every night, which is a far cry from how her caretakers at Jordan College handled her nightly routine.

(Which is to say that at Jordan College, she didn’t really have a nightly routine. Someone would just yell at her to go to bed, and then she’d maybe do it or maybe not depending on her mood.)

“No,” she shakes her head defiantly, but then, a little more gently, a little more politely, “no... I’m just... I’m thinkin’ about Roger again, Mrs. Coulter. He’s gotta be so scared and lonely and confused…”

Pantalaimon, now an ermine again, watches the golden monkey, far bigger than him and far more graceful and far better at keeping a neutral face.

But as soon as Lyra mentions Roger, the golden monkey’s nose twists unpleasantly, as though he’s smelling something awful, and Pan lurches, instinctively recognizing the emotion for what it is.

Disgust.

Mrs. Coulter smiles sadly, her slender face perfectly free of her dæmon, and the monkey turns away again.

“I imagine so,” she murmurs, “but all my best people are doing their best to look for him, Lyra. Haven’t I told you this before?”

And even Lyra can hear the warning note in her voice this time, the implicit insistence that she shouldn’t push.

Push anyway, Pan encourages, pressing his black nose gently against her neck. For Roger, Lyra. He needs you.

“I... I know,” Lyra mumbles, “but I just thought we could help look for him, too, you know? All hands on deck.”

The monkey makes some sort of impatient sound that registers as such in the empty air, but still, Mrs. Coulter’s expression remains perfectly pleasant.

Soft.

Compassionate even.

Lyra’s heart thuds with its own confusion.

“If all else fails,” Mrs. Coulter promises, straightening her silk-enclosed shoulders, “we will, sweet girl. I wouldn’t lie to you—ever.”

Pantalaimon isn’t so sure about that, but Lyra half-heartedly brushes him off again.

Because she likes Mrs. Coulter.

She really does.

We can like someone and not believe them, Lyra, he reminds her gently.

That’s scary to think about, Pan.

I know.

Mrs. Coulter’s smile is so kind… so warm… so inviting…

Someone can like us and still not tell us the truth, Pan warns, watching the monkey’s vaguely cross expression.

That’s even scarier somehow.

I know.

#marisa coulter #lyra silvertongue #his dark materials #f: his dark materials #reginianwrites #last one for this weekend i swear lmao

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swearwolf-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Teen Wolf 2020

it’s 2020 and corona is a bitch :) the wolves might not be able to get sick but they still wear their masks bcs they could still be carriers so *clears throat* WEAR YOUR MASKS Y’ALL!! this is very much a no one dies/everybody lives au :)

[CROSSPOSTED ON: AO3]

Scott McCall - age 26

this cute nerd. he studied veterinary medicine which takes about 4 years so he graduated in 2017 and works as Deaton’s partner at the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic. he’s dating Isaac (bcs he came back from France with Argent, remember) and Kira (she came back from the Skinwalkers in 2019 and has a proper grasp on her powers). sorry scalia shippers but it’s not really my thing-

Stiles Stilinski - age 26

NERD. anywho- FBI dork became an agent in 2019 whoo and lives in DC with Lydia, Derek and Braeden. he’s dating Lydia and Derek and things are pretty chill - he yells at arseholes who refuse to wear their masks bcs ‘it’s uncomfortable :(’ like bite me karen no one cares

Derek Hale - age 32

grumpy sourwolf actually knows how to smile!! who knew- he lives in DC with Stiles, Lydia and Braeden most of the time but he and Braeden travel often to fight butthead hunters who need to mind their own business. he’s dating Stiles and he and Braeden are engaged - it’s cute and they’re being dorks about it. he likes to complain that they’d be married by now if it wasn’t for freakin covid

Lydia Martin - age 26

your local genius banshee~ 🥰 still awesome, still a harbinger of death - so yk, the usual. bcs she had extra credits she started as a junior studying maths and graduates in 2016!! 🎉🎉 she moved to DC after she got some money together while working as a tutor - the quartet splits rent (but usually it’s just Stiles and Lydia splitting it bcs the other two don’t technically have jobs and yk Derek is an unsub and Stiles is in the FBI which Lydia finds hilarious). she teaches adults in the local community college and helps supernatural folk on the dl - she runs a grief counselling service at the same place for people who’ve lost someone. she’s also trying to get a degree to become a high school maths teacher and it’s a lot but she’s got it handled.

Allison Argent - 24

accidentally brought back from the dead by the Dread Doctors. everyone could not stop crying bcs she’s back baby!! she died in 2011 age 17 and came back in 2012 so she wasn’t dead long thankfully - wanted to kill Theo bcs he messed with her pack even he did bring her back. she’s a chimera now lads- she needed a kidney transplant when she was young which was why she was kept away from the family business. she was a werewolf-werejaguar chimera like Hayden but stayed a chimera. Chris and Isaac stayed home and bcs she and Isaac never actually broke up, they kept dating - she found it funny that Isaac and Scott were dating at this point,, meanwhile they were panicking wildly :) she went back to school and said she wasn’t dead, just in the hospital for a really long time. she joined Liam’s year and again, wanted to very badly throw hands when she found out about Monroe- she’s the coolest, like she has claws and bow and arrows

Malia Tate - 26

our girl went to France as promised and hooked up with plenty of hot French people *le eyebrow wiggle* she found her beau there in France and it was not a love at first sight sort of thing - she wanted to punch them in the face,, in their very pretty face- she was basically doing her own thing when she smells them, another bloody werewolf and like don’t get me wrong, she’s fond of werewolves, but bloody hell do they cause trouble. and they smell her too and it’s like ‘eh-?’ bcs werecoyotes aren’t so common as werewolves. and they’re just there in a club in Bordeaux and they’re sniffed each other out and they kinda just pause like huh- bcs they were were not expecting to see someone that pretty- but that’s not the point of course- they pretend to leave together and as soon as they’re out of sight from humans, they start fighting in an alley, as you do. it ends up with the wolf tasting the wall bcs who the hell are you- once they figure out they’re both just there to party, things chill and they see more of each other, naturally, it’s all just a big coincidence and doesn’t mean anything. and then they’re dancing and it doesn’t mean anything. and then they’re sleeping together and it doesn’t mean anything. except it does. and they don’t know when it became normal to cuddle or wake up together or have breakfast together but it just was. and when the cute werewolf (who I still don’t have a name for-) plans on moving to the next place, she comes with. the pack are happy for her and they usually road trip from place to place so when the pack comes to visit in Prague? it’s fun to say the least

Kira Yukimura - age 25

she came back from the Skinwalkers in 2019 and she and Allison became good friends. she kept going with school from home and is dating Scott. her powers are strong and when she sneezes bcs yk pollen or wtv, there’s sparks and it’s hilarious and Scott finds it adorable. she doesn’t really know what she wants to do yet and that’s cool of her

Erica Reyes - age 25

they thought she was dead- think again bitch, she slowed her heart rate down so they couldn’t hear and everyone thought she was dead - when the alpha pack got rid of her body and Allison found it, she told her to tell the others to pretend she was dead bcs of the Alpha pack - they beat the Alpha pack but she and Boyd hid with Satomi’s pack while that went down and helped generally after. she kept going with school and bcs she dipped for a while, ended in Liam’s year and eventually became a nurse in 2017. she works with Melissa McCall and joins for family dinner a lot.

Isaac Lahey - age 25

went to France with Chris Argent but kept going with his studies at Chris’ insistence. was dating dating Scott before he had to leave with Chris but they didn’t actually break up,, it was more ‘i’ll miss you :(’. came back to Beacon Hills when Chris came to help with the deadpool business and stayed bcs of Allison and Scott 💞 his studies were mostly uninterrupted and he studied law, becoming a lawyer in 2020!! so at least one good thing came of this infernal year- he wants to specialise in family law.

Vernon Boyd III - age 26

yea no, Derek didn’t mercy kill him bcs he was fine :) de nile ain’t just a river lads he went into hiding with Satomi’s pack and came back when the Alpha pack was dealt with. went back to school and ended up in Liam’s year. he joined the air force when he was 18 and finished his rotc training stuff in 2018 and it’s pretty alright - he’s a pilot but was discharged in 2019 bcs someone started with him and bcs they were a superior, he couldn’t say shit. so now he likes to wear ‘fuck the army’ and ‘fuck the air force’ shirt. he has mad respect for the people out there but the people in charge? fuck em

Aiden Steiner - age 27

he lives bitches 😎 Ethan had a silver chain on so he plugged the wound with it - it counteracted the oni poison and the chain started melting into the would (he had mild silver poisoning but he was fine). school was normal and now he’s an engineer, living in Beacon Hills. he and Ethan left for London for a while bcs that town was crazy af. while Ethan was very happy there, he missed home so went back. he got an online ordination and learnt Japanese bcs why not

Ethan Steiner-Whittemore - age 27

got married!! whoo 🎉🎉 Aiden officiated (this is 2018 btw) and it was cute. the whole pack was there and the wedding was in London bcs as quaint as Beacon Hills is

‘i’m only planning on getting married once so this is gonna be awesome’ - Jackson Whittemore, 2017

he’s dramatic but yk Ethan was a blushing mess bcs ~life partners~ he’s soft y’all. he’s a primary school teacher in London and they’re part of the South London pack.

Jackson Steiner-Whittemore - age 25

also got married!! whoo 🎉🎉 ngl he’s lowkey a trophey husband/sugar hubby bcs he’s rich af - he does business with his dad but it’s not a big workload. he and Aiden want to adopt and yk being rich will hopefully help

Theo Raeken - age 25

ah yes, the absolute nightmare bi enby returns. (i hc him with he/they pronouns ✌🏽 as you do) so he successfully gained Scott’s trust and is part of the pack - yay! he and Allison have a sort of ‘you’re a bitch’ ‘no u’ *saves each others lives* relationship at this point - it took a while for Allison to warm up to him but he did save Liam’s butt several times so,, anywho, he’s still a werewolf-werecoyote chimera and he’s cool with it. he went to an online school and got his high school diploma - Liam then snuck him into the school and he signed the bookshelf bcs yea he didn’t graduate there but he did go there and now he’s graduated so yay. speaking of, he and Liam are dating, yea ik we been knew. they started dating in 2014 and Theo now works waiting tables at a local restaurants bcs he lives with Liam and his parents (you best bet that when they found out he was living in his car, they made him move in so he pays rent, not at their request but his). that was till 2017 and they moved out into an apartment together. Theo chips in on rent but it usually ends up being split 60:40 (Liam: Theo) so he cooks and cleans a lot,,, mainly bcs Liam can’t cook and does laundry like a maniac-

Liam Dunbar - age 24

this werepup is just as chaotic as always - he cannot be trusted with laundry bcs he doesn’t split colours from whites :) honestly it makes me wanna cry a lil bcs he can’t even fry eggs either- he has Theo to cook for him tho so that’s all good. he’s a history tutor for the high school students bcs he likes history and he knows the pain of high school- *shudder* he got an online Spanish and TESOL (Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages) degree and is now teaching at Beacon Hills High but yk his first year teaching is all online bcs 2020-

Mason Hewitt - age 23

he’s Emissary to the pack when they don’t have Deaton *wipes tear* he’s all grown up- he went to UCLA and majored in biophysics and minored in LGBTQ studies (graduated 2017). he lived on campus (kept the bat next to his bed lmao) and videochatted with Liam almost everyday - he would visit almost every weekend even tho it’s a 6 and half drive but hey. he got an apartment near the uni where he and Corey lived after he graduated. they’ve been engaged since 2018 (it was actually the day after the Steiner-Whittemore wedding). he’s helping work on a new drug delivery system and they moved closer to Beacon Hills (Sacramento)

Corey Bryant - age 24

he also went UCLA, studying comparative literature and LGBTQ studies, and lived on campus (for 3 years before moving in with Mason in 2017) before graduating in 2018. they’re engaged and moved to Sacramento. he’s writing a novel that will thankfully have nothing to do with their confusing ass lives

Cora Hale - age 28

lesbian queen *bows* still part of her pack in Ecuador, South America - she’s got a lady lover who I call Rosa (affectionately nicknamed Rosalita). they met when she first got there age 12 (Rosa being 13 at the time). Rosa taught her Spanish and made her feel like part of the pack - after all the Alpha pack stuff, when she went back with Derek and Peter, she didn’t realise how much she’d missed them- how much she’d missed her. Derek asks if that’s her girlfriend and she’s like ‘wha- o.o’ and Rosa just goes ‘yup - nice to finally meet you guys’. she still visits DC to see Derek and Beacon Hills to see Erica and Isaac. even tho she lives in a different continent, Peter still looks out for her, sending anonymous donations in Talia’s name to the areas surrounding her pack’s territory

Brett Talbot - 24

*singsongs* ~he did not die~ the car swerved out of the way and the pack took him to Deaton who burnt the poison out of him (it was a long and painful process but he’s fine y’all). he’s the new lacrosse coach at Devenford Prep and he and Liam have a (mostly) friendly rivalry :) he’s a single pringle not bcs of lack of dates but just bcs he hasn’t found the one yet

Lorilee Rohr - age 22

also did not die :) she finished high school (2015) and went on to studying at UC Berkeley (art practice and theatre and performance studies, major and minor), graduating in 2018. she and Brett moved once he reached age 18. she makes and sells art from home

Nolan Holloway - age 25

after proving himself, same as Theo, he was eventually accepted into the pack. he and Gabe were dating and that’s that so he did mourn him for a long while. he works with hunters on the dl, trying to stop them hunting the supernaturals - he’s flipped 23 away from the dark side by 2020. he and Liam are friends which took a while but Nolan has his back (like there was that one time someone from the lacrosse team said they weren’t gonna ‘follow some mongrel’ so he reminded them that Liam was co-captain and if they didn’t wanna follow him, they could kindly fuck off :)) he’s a simp and has a raging crush on Brett like me too bruh

~the end~ for now

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emerald-studies · 4 years ago

Text

Diverse Perspectives | Discussion 1

****Whew, Tumblr deleted this entire post that was in my queue, so if there are mistakes in the transcript, sorry. I still highly, highly, suggest you read as you listen. I’ve added resources so you know what we reference in this discussion.*****

[ It is required to participate and watch/read these discussions, in order to follow me. Participate or get tf out. We aren’t performative in my lil’ area on Tumblr.

This discussion isn’t representative of an entire population or meant to be super professional. It’s to share different perspectives and also is an opportunity for me to practice what I preach: intersectionality. If you’d like to participate in this series please send me a pm or an ask and I’ll get back to you ASAP. We can do a written, audio, or video interview.]

To open this series, I interviewed Rachel, (AKA @reality-wont-ruin-my-life / @emmettisapowerbottom) for her perspective as a Jewish woman.

youtube

Transcript:

I recommend you read while you listen, I’ve made some clarifications because my ADD brain is shitty when I try to speak words.

(it has also been slightly edited for clarity)

Faith: OK, thank you for doing this with me, so I just want your perspective because you are a Jewish woman.

Rachel: Yes.

F: And I feel ... we don't talk about anti-Semitism enough in the right spaces.

R: Yeah.

F: I think we talk about it ... in history and then, ... it's not even called...I don't even remember it being called anti-Semitism, it was being ... framed as ... with this thing of the past that is around. So, first question for you is,

Do you believe that by learning about the Holocaust in such an apathetic bland setting, which is a classroom, we are being told anti-Semitism is a thing of the past?

R: Um, I think it has less to do with where we learn, because I do think it's really important to learn about ... the history, but I think the way it's taught is really where the issue comes is that they kind of teach it as this one event that's kind of a standalone thing instead of saying ..., hey, this is a historical pattern. So a lot of people seem to think antisemitism started with the Holocaust when there's thousands of years of history of it before that. And then they think it ended when the US joined the war, which the US didn't even join the war to help the Jews. That's a complete lie. So I think it's important that it's taught. But the way it's taught is, you know, you read The Diary of Anne Frank and you look at a few power points. And everyone stares at the Jewish kid ... us ... to--

F: Omg not to make it about me, but I remember watching ... a Jackie Robinson film and (also) learning about slavery in seventh grade. I was ... the only black person in the room. And they're always ... this *looks behind* it's just ... what? (are you looking at?)

R: I think every kind of minority group has that experience where the class talks about something and just ..., you know, everyone's staring at you.

F: Yeah. So, yeah, I agree with you. ..., context matters and I think ... even the pattern or how even the Holocaust even happened, ... it shouldn’t have happened and we're told we're learning about this, so it doesn't happen again, but what are these teachers telling us? They're not telling us what was the process of basically convincing a whole population that it's OK to kill, mass kill, people? So I feel ... it's not really seen in that context. I mean, at least I went to many different schools and, you know, different history classes. And it never really seemed ... it was deeper, ... it was more of ..., you know, this is your homework is about the Holocaust. It's ... this shouldn't be ... it shouldn't be ... that. I don't know how to explain it ... this is more than just ... a piece of paper that we fill out.

R: Definitely, yeah, I think people kind of get lost in that and think it's just this one unit instead of ..., you know. It decimated ... a third of the world's Jewish population and 90 percent of the Romani population.

F: Yeah, and it, I think that also isn't talked about because I did a whole presentation on, ... the experiments that took place and they took, ...disabled people or differently abled, whatever you prefer...and then I know, ..., multiple minority groups were put in those camps. So I also think it's interesting that I mean, .... I don't know how to explain it, I think by making it just about the Jewish population, it's ... “better” for people. People ... they can put it in a box, right, ... this won't affect me if it happened today. But, you know, if you have a family member that's a part of this group or part of the LGBTQ+ ... they were affected. So it's ... this* isn't just .... A certain people's problem. (*The Holocaust)

R: But at the same time, I feel ... especially when learning about and teachers tend to take her Jewishness out of it so that people can relate to it, ... she was a Jewish woman ......don't.

F: Yeah, it's ... you can humanize someone by just seeing them as human, you don't need to make them ... you don't need to make them fit, you know? Um, do you think the Internet has helped or hurt the Jewish community in terms of information and accessibility to the general public?

R: I say a mix of both because for me personally, ... growing up, I really separated myself from my Judaism at home. I was ..., oh, I don't you know, I think this is something you want to do as kids. It's ... you do your bar mitzvah and then you're just ... gone for awhile and finding ... Jewish people on the Internet really helped me reclaim my connection with my family. And now I study it ... it's my college degree... is Judaic studies and the history. But I've found that it's been really helpful for me finding ... Jewish people on the Internet, but at the same time...... conspiracy theories are a huge thing on the Internet, and so many of them are based on anti Semitism without people even realizing. So I think it's the spread of information and the ability to scapegoat groups from the Internet hurts Jews a lot, but it also really helpful for us in finding community within ... Jewish people.

F: Yeah, ... yeah, I can definitely see that because, I mean, I think that's...I've only ever heard the “pro” of social media is meeting people, like-minded people or different people, which I mean, thank you, Tumblr, because of this... but that's the only pro I've ever heard, is just meeting people. So I just think it's interesting that ..., ... there are all these negative things, you know, ... anti vaxxers..Flat earthers, ... “climate change isn't real”. It's just .... At least we get to meet each other? Look on the bright side, I guess.

R: Oh, yeah. You know, take the good with the bad or whatever. I have, but not to the extent some other people have, because I don't really have ... the stereotypical Jewish, which is ridiculous because you come in every color and everything. And also, I do want to say I don't speak for every Jew, every experience, ... I'm an upper class white woman living in Oregon. So, you know, I have a very different perspective than say and also I'm a certain branch of Judaism citizen. So I have a different perspective from ... a Black Orthodox Jew from New York, it’s going to be a very different lifestyle. So I haven't had death threats anything. I just...a lot of middle school and high school was ... when people would find out I was Jewish. ... Can I say, ... a Holocaust joke.?

F: Ugh

R: No, know, that's ... everyone when you're a kid, that's their first reaction. When you say things ..., oh, now I can make this joke about ovens and ..., please don't do that.

F: Oh, my God, that's so awful. I don't know why they do that.

R: And then all of a choir director once was ..., Oh ... because I got this solo in this piece that was about Anne Frank. She's ..., Oh, yeah, she even looks ... Anne Frank. I was ..., this was on the radio.

F: That's that's not OK. Oh my gosh. It's .... Look, look, she's not ... this, ... she was gorgeous, obviously, I think everyone's gorgeous, but ... she ... I've seen, ..., her eyes on people (edit: I meant she has common features, like everyone else) ... she's not. Yeah, her features are....Oh, my gosh...., it's just because--

R: the things that are considered stereotypical Jewish features are largely Middle Eastern features, ... it's thick hair, ... kind of bushy eyebrows, the nose with the bump, curly, dark, untamed hair.

F: Yeah, and that's just ... such a large (edit: large population), stereotypes are never really accurate. they're based on something dark, ... really dark. It's ... if you actually look into stereotypes on certain groups, it always has a dark origin. So many people have...ugh I’m not just going to even...

*Rachel’s video cuts out*

F: Ok next question:

Why do you think people of color are able to be anti-Semitic or kinda just hold anti Semitic beliefs, consciously or subconsciously?

R: I think a lot of it is the perception that being Jewish is inherently tied to having power, and so a lot of communities look at it as punching up, when that’s not the reality of the situation, so I think when... this goes for every other group I think that because that’s the kinda the stereotypical argument for why people don't like Jews is “Oh, well we control the world so other people were super wealthy we’re super rich so people can say, oh I can hate this group because they’re above me, so I’m punching up.”

F: Mhmmm

R: But you know there are Black Jews, there are disabled Jews, there’s...all these intersections. There’s plenty of poor Jews. So there’s this idea that just because you’re Jewish you’re rich and powerful.

F: Hmm. That’s a really good way to look at that, because you know I kinda do see how that falls into the “Eat the rich” or whatever. Um...and I recently learned, is it true, I probably should’ve researched this before, but is the illuminati Semitic? ... the idea of an illuminati?

R: The concept is, largely because of who they claim are in it. They are largely Jewish people. And also, it’s the same thing with the “lizard conspiracy/the lizard people”, which I was explaining this to my Mom...actually let me find the message...I think his name is David Icke? But he’s the creator of the “lizard conspiracy” and he also is a Holocaust denier who simultaneously believes that Jews funded the Holocaust to get ... attention….

F: *scoffs in disgust and utter confusion*

R: ...and to get people to pity them. And so a lot of people with go after Soros or the Rothschilds and say ... “oh they’re a part of the illuminati, they’re lizard people who are controlling the world.” and so, no, the concept of this elite group that runs the world and many of the people you’re putting in it are Jewish people.

F: Hmmm, oh ok.

R: Also throughout history, this goes way before the Holocaust, this has been going on for 2,000 years but ... Jews have been accused of running the-Jews--with the lizards they’ll say “Oh they’ll eat your kids” or they’ll do this thing. So Jews have been accused of this thing called blood libel, which is ... sacrificing Christian children and drinking their blood. Which never happened, there’s no documented cases of this, but we---there were large mass murders of Jewish people in the middle ages and also for stealing communion wafers. They would say that we would steal them and ...….stab them to ... to try and kill Jesus. Which sounds...... I think when we learned that we all laughed uncomfortably...but no you don’t understand, thousands of Jews were murdered for this….this isn’t a funny thing. And so it's this idea of ... this secret...Jewish society that’s gonna kill your kids, steal all the wealth and even--they’ll try to, David Icke, again, I don’t know if I’m pronouncing his name right, I’m sorry. But--

F: Who cares (if you’re pronouncing his name right) honestly?

R: It’s not anti-Semitic because these Jews who I’m accusing aren’t really human...but yes they are.

F: Yeah

R: These are Jewish people.

F:... any group of people are people...so he’s trying to say Jewish people are alien, so it doesn’t count?

R: Pretty much.

F: *wtf confusion laugh*

R: So I think a lot of times the people who spread the conspiracies don’t know….the prices of it. Once you learn, you dig a little deeper, you can see the issue that comes from it.

F: Do you think um that in that sense that memes can be hurtful--or harmful because of ... you know the illuminati meme. So people don’t know that the concept of the illuminati is essentially anti-Semitic, so do you think ... meme culture is contributing to ignorance?

R: I think yeah to some extent, because when it gets widespread enough you know? It becomes normalized and then when someone tries to speak about it and says, “Hey this thing is problematic” they’ll be ... “Oh no it’s just a joke, you’re taking it too seriously, it has nothing to do with that.” Well, if you look back, ... it does and historically these kinds of “jokes” have led to groups being persecuted. It’s just a matter of if someone tells you something is problematic, don’t brush it off.

F: And I would ... to point out that I made a joke about Mark Zuckerberg being a robot lizard in response to um...him uh trying to buy Native lands and I was like “What?”(when someone said it was Semitic) honestly my brain doesn’t even go to---I don’t research who people are. I don’t know why I didn’t know he was Jewish, I didn’t know. And then I went to I forgot what website I went to, I went through all the stereotypes of Jewish people and I didn’t see anything about “lizard”, but it was ...I was trying to find a way to excuse myself...but if someone tells you its wrong, it’s wrong.

R: And I think it’s about being willing to learn and listen ..., I made those jokes. I didn’t realize until earlier this year what the basis of it all was. So I’ve made plenty of jokes about the illuminati and lizard people….and then started reading things by other Jewish people and I was ... “Oh! I never thought about that.” I didn’t connect the dots and put that all together.

F: Yeah and especially with ... jokes ... they’re so modern, memes are so modern, so when we’re told about anti-semitism being framed as a past thing, we do this. So when we use jokes and stuff--I mean non-Jewish people, I think when we use jokes in general, honestly, about any group, we don’t think “Ok what’s the context of this? What’s the history behind this?” Because---BEYONCE friggin’ singing about the illuminati....

R: *laughs*

F: I mean she was kinda ... dragging it, but the jokes get that big. So I feel ...---I don’t know. I want to publicly apologize for calling Mark Zuckerberg a robot lizard because I thought that was a meme and not based in anti-Semitic language.

R: We’ve all done that so many times.

F: I was talking about how he’s ... a robot and acts weird, so it’s completely on me.

What do you want people to know about your culture?

R: Um, that it’s not a monolith. There’s this ongoing joke in the Jewish community that if you have two Jewish people in a room you’ll have three different opinions.

F: *laughs*

R: So we all practice differently, we all have a different relationship with religion and spirituality and that the big thing is that we’re not this all powerful group. I think it confuses people that Judaism isn’t...first off Judeo-Christian is not real we’re not--Judaism and christianity are very different so I get annoyed when they’re lumped together. “Judeo-Christian values” ... no we have completely different values and beliefs.

F: Yeah

R: I think it really confuses people when I tell them that I don’t believe in God but I still consider myself very Jewish, because it’s so intrinsically tied as this just religious concept but because of the persecution that Jewish communities have faced, it’s taken on this double role as an ethnicity and a religion. So ..., I’m a white person, there’s no way that I’m not white but I’m also a Jewish white person so it's kinda a different path, a different history. And I still have this connection with my Judaism, while at the same time, you know, I haven’t been to synagogue since I was 13, so I don’t believe in higher powers and stuff, at least at this point in my life. That could change, but I think it’s such a part of who we are and there’s that generational trauma that Jews are born with--or at least biological because you’re still just as Jewish if you convert to Judaism, I think there’s also this idea, Oh! My cat just came in...

I think there’s also this idea that when you’re controlling the world you're trying to make everyone like you. But Jews don’t proselytize, Jews aren’t trying to make other people Jewish. Which is very different than the way some other religions operate, where it’s going out and trying to get everyone to agree with you so you can save their soul or whatever...

F: Mhm

R: Also when it comes to--this is less for Judaism, this is for every group, ya know I was talking about um The BLM protests and using dark humor. In my experience at least, I think the groups that are affected can use dark humor about it. So ..., Black people can make jokes about police brutality, I can’t make jokes about police brutality because it’s not affecting me personally, so I feel ... Jewish people, we wanna make Jew jokes between ourselves, that’s fine, but when other people make jokes ... ok now it’s uncomfortable because of that power imbalance, ‘cause you haven’t faced a holocaust or gone through these things I’ve gone through as a Jewish person, and I haven’t gone through these other things. So I think when people make a joke “Oh I have a dark sense of humor, I like to use dark humor to cope” well it’s not ... your trauma to cope with. I think that’s with every group that’s gone through something...there’s certain dark humor that you can’t use.

F: Yeah that’s such a good way to put it because ... you may be coping with other things but it’s not the thing you’re talking about, so why do you need to cope with the jokes about that? I’ve heard, anti-Semitic jokes and I’m ... “What the-” *leans back* from ... non- Jewish people and….who is that for? How is that make you feel better as a human? I was like: “Why are you doing this? Shut up.”

R: Yeah.

F: They know it’s wrong...it’s like the “edgy” 4chan type of thing ... *~I’m so edgy~* No your’e not. Personally, I think you’re weak if you can’t come up with a joke that doesn’t hurt a group of people

R: Oh yeah. Oh and then another thing I’d ... people to realize about Judaism is for one….the issue of Judaism and anti-Semitism is separate from the issue of Israel/Palestine and anti-Zionism and also not every Jew has the same opinion on it and we’re not all experts on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, so you don’t need to derail every discussion with “Oh what are your thoughts on Palestine? Do you support Palestine? Do you support Israel?” Because it’s so separate, and such a complex issue. You know because I was born Jewish doesn’t mean that I automatically have this innate knowledge of the entire conflict. It can kinda be used as a way to derail people when talking about anti-Semitism we face, ya know you’ll--I’ve seen this a lot on TikTok where people will make videos talking about things they face and a lot of the comments are “Free Palestine”...well they didn’t mention Palestine, we don’t know their views on Palestine. Just ‘cause you’re Jewish that doesn’t make you a Zionist, just---I’m sure people who have Palestinian heritage doesn’t make you anti-Zionist, ya know? They're separate issues and people ... to lump them into one…..and if someone says that anti-Zionism is treading into Semitism, then we should listen to them because they’re two separate things and you can protest in Israel and not be falling into anti-Semitic tropes.

F: Right, that’s such a complex subject. I would never ask someone straight up: “Who’s side are you on?!” because it’s so, so complex. I remember I tried to dedicate a whole day to just researching, “Ok what’s going on?” and it’s just ... so much information it’s just hard because I don’t even want to speak on it because it has nothing to do with me, so I was just trying to get--I remember when it was on the news a lot, right? I’m like trying to understand what you guys are saying, so I like to do background researching and oh my gosh, I can’t imagine summing up your opinion in one sentence about that or why you chose this side and not that. It’s so varied.

R: Ya know I’m still learning about it, I don’t know that much about it so ya know when I try to talk about this Jewish thing they’ll be ... “Oh! What are your thoughts on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict?” I’m just ... *raises hands up* “I don’t know, I need time to learn more”

F: Yeah it’s like *looks at phone* “hold on a sec (while I research more on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and get back to ya)”

How do you see yourself in your country?

R: Um...it’s complicated because I’m from a privileged family in a privileged area so I know I have intrinsic power in this country, Judaism is easier to hide than other things. You can’t look at me and know I’m Jewish whereas you could look at a Black person and know they’re Black, you could look at a Muslim wearing a headscarf and know they’re Muslim. So it’s much easier to get away with things, I’m not going to be profiled until I open my mouth and say something about my Judaism, but at the same time, there is that fear because we’ve seen it before, Jews in Germany weren’t identifiable by looking at them but it’s on their birth certificate and they started rounding up. So I do get that little pang of panic every time I see “Jewish cemetery desecrated” or “Swastikas drawn on synagogue”...last time I went to synagogue was after the Tree of Life shooting, I went in solidarity and there was ... armed guards outside and it was so scary thinking about “Oh my God there could be a bomb threat, there could be a shooter.” and there’s this idea where I know I have privilege and I know I’m in a position of power but at the same time, ... I know that I have to be ready to flee if something happens, because every few generations of Jews have had to do that, for thousands of years now. So it’s all complex intertwined identity, where-so I call myself “Conditionally white”, I benefit so much from white privilege and everything except my Judaism is white, white, white but then there’s at the same time, I wasn’t considered white under the defining whatever, where you write down your race, in the eyes of the US until ... the 50s. They had white and Jewish as two separate ethnicities or races. It’s such a weird place to be.

F: Yeah and of course, I know you say you are/look white so you have all this privilege and stuff but at the same time, being scared of sharing a part of you that’s...an average white person doesn’t have to be scared of ... saying “Oh I believe this” and then if you feel the fear of sharing that, just in general or fear of a hate crime, that is very valid. And I think sometimes we forget that.

R: It’s interesting sometimes hearing people talk about Judaism. They think of it as this “Oh taking over the world, there’s gotta be a lot of them” it’s ... well, there’s 14 million of us in the world right now, about a third are in Israel, the US has 1.5 million. Compared to that, probably half the world's population is Christian. There's 1 or 2 billion Muslims, we’re a very small group comparatively.

F: I do think the illuminati thing perpetuates that so much, subconsciously or unconsciously….although it’s supposed to be a “smaller group” or whatever but still they make it ... this huge thing kinda framed like Scientology. It’s so weird that people don’t--I’ve heard many Christians claim that “I’m scared to say I’m Christian” and it's just ... that’s so valid for you and I’m not disregarding your experience...the historical context behind it, even people who are Muslim and all these hate crimes...I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hate crime against a Catholic church...

R: Not in a very long time and when it has been, it’s usually between Christian sects.

F: Yeah, that too, infighting. I dunno where I was going with that. *laughs* but I know what you mean by blowing up this population to be a “threat”. I think that happens with any group that someone disagrees with like the “liberals” “antifa” they blow it up to huge populations, ... “Oh my gosh we’re being invaded!” I’m surprised that more people haven’t seen with, you know the steps to genocide, that’s one of the things (steps), it’s making this group of people a “threat” that’s “invading” a space...I’m surprised that people don’t see that about any group but especially about the Jewish community, AGAIN! That’s not the first time! It’s just constant, there’s no breaks!

R: Yeah that’s most of Jewish history since other major religions came in….you know we haven’t been in power since Christianity came in.

What’s the biggest misconception bout your community?

R: Um, I’d say probably getting back to that rich/powerful thing. Just the, ya know that and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict thing. Those are the two things I hear the most and also Holocaust deniers..which I don’t know why there are so many but there are like or the people who say “Oh yeah it happened but it’s not as bad as they make it seem.”.

F: Sooo stupid. I just can’t imagine denying any sort of crime against humanity, .. I can’t even talk about it, it makes me so pissed.

Do you feel like there is adequate representation of your community in the media?

R: Um I think we definitely have more representation than other groups...but I find it to be kind of more one track or stereotypical so it doesn’t show ... the breadth of the Jewish community. The only show about Jews is Unorthodox and that kinda portrays Orthodox Judaism in a not great light. But I think there’s a lot more Jewish….you know they used to say “Jews control Hollywood” because a lot of actors and directors were Jewish and it’s ... “Well, maybe we’re just creative?”

F: *laughing*

R: So theres a lot of famous Jews and I guess a lot of Hollywood producers are Jewish but I think when it comes to actual characters, we don’t see practicing Jews that aren’t relying on stereotypes. But I don’t think the media is particularly targeted harmful to Jews the way it’s targeted other communities.

F: What do you think about the movies about the Holocaust that come out every year? And I’m not saying anything against them, I’m just curious what your take on that is because it’s interesting that I see a lot of these movies come out right? But in school it’s a day lesson, but the media keeps on talking about it. Do you appreciate that? Do you wish the content was better?

*both laugh*

R: I think some are better done than others. I prefer, my area of study is the Holocaust, so I have to submerse myself in all that stuff because that’s what my thesis is going to be on, it’s frustrating sometimes to see the fictionalized stories pushed over the real ones, especially the ones that have Christian charac---Boy in the Striped Pajamas made sob when I first watched it. Then I watched it again and I realized you’re only side because the little Christian kid dies.

F: *gasps in awe/mind blown* Ugh you gotta put that somewhere and share it because that’s such a good point!

R: And then there's, there was drama about some of the Holocaust books and they were ... hey “this isn’t a real story this didn’t happen but your pushing it as a real story”. So I….there’s so many real life tragedies that sometimes it seems a little weird that you create your fake characters about it. But at the same time, I do enjoy Holocaust movies ... I do consume content but there does seem ... a weird disproportionate obsession with it. I’ve said this to my family, I don’t really trust non-Jews who are super into WW2. ... there’s something about it, why are you so into it? “... I think it’s cool how that could happen, it’s cool to think about how….” I don’t really trust your motives, there’s something off to me. I think when it’s their personality is ... WW2! Holocaust!...Why are you so invested in this?

F: Oh my gosh yeah. Do you think there could be more movies about real people in real stories? ... I’ll look at “Is this movie true” (On google) ... The Boy in the Striped Pajamas So (I looked up) “Is this true” and it said, “Ummm no.” and it’s like... OK but wouldn’t it be more impactful to have real stories that are told?

R: I think so to some extent but I also don’t think they should do it without permission and sometimes there isn’t someone’s permission to ask.

F: Right.

R: But you don’t want those stories to die, you know if there’s a family left and this story is important and you don’t want it to get lost in the books but you know, so much has already been taken from the Jewish community...you have to weigh whether or not it’s worth it to contribute to that to get a story out there.

Do you think some directors and writers choose to make a story about the Holocaust as Oscar bait?

R: Probably. I think tragedies tend to do well in the awards circuit and I think tragedies about white people especially tend to do well. So I think if you...have this event, something that everyone knows about, everyone knows about the Holocaust, and they go “Ok well they’re not going to turn down this story about this kid in the Holocaust”. I don’t know every director's intention, there could be some who want to get the story out there. But I do think it’s easier to get something about a major historical event.

Do you feel that Jewish people are put in a box, only being seen as victims?

R: I’d say it’s usually the opposite. I’d feel ... both sides of the political spectrum put Jewish people in this box of “oppressor”.

F: Mhmmm

R: You see it because it’s one of those groups that gets hit on both sides. Where ... a lot of people say “Oh yeah well in the Holocaust you were all the victims.” which doesn’t annoy me because you’ll see these people say “They just willingly got on the carts to drive to camps and no one fought back.” well, no there were militias there were uprisings. They weren't just happily getting on these buses and not fighting for their lives. So I do think there’s a lot of victimization when it comes to the Holocaust, but a lot of people say “That was in the past, now no one’s attacking the Jews, no one’s doing anything so they’re taking advantage of us”. So I think in a historical context Jews are placed in a box of victimhood but in a modern context, it’s flipped.

F: Hm. How do you see left v. right, can you explain how you’ve seen each group take hits at the Jewish community?

R: Yeah

F: Kinda ... just a few points for people to watch and look out for?

R: The right is pretty much what you’d expect, neo-Nazis, swastikas, SS tattoos which is not fun, I don’t like seeing those. You see these white supremacists and I think on the left, they think all the Jews in that group are included in the white supremacy, when we’re explicitly excluded, we are not considered white by white supremacist standards. But you see the left use Steven Miller and Jared Kushner who, you know, they’re Jewish, they’re also terrible people but they happen to be Jewish...and them being terrible doesn't make them not Jewish but you see people like that...from the left we see a lot more of the anti-semitism coming out kinda disguised by anti-Zionism.

F: Mhmm

R: Again, I think there are perfectly valid reasons to be anti-Zionist. Another issue I have that the left like to do, which sometimes is valid and sometimes isn’t, is comparing things to the Holocaust.

F: Mhmm

R: Sometimes I think that’s…..can compare something, especially if Jewish people are saying that “Hey, these are things that we were seeing happening in Nazi Germany that we’re seeing now.” I remember getting really upset when I was seeing vegans compare animal farming to the Holocaust and ... yeah I have a lot of issues with the meat industry but don’t conflate those two things ‘cause its basically saying Jewish people are cattle. That’s how it comes out to the Jewish people.

F: Yeah I just looked up, I just wanted to make sure, yeah I have definitely heard that in the vegan community and it does bother me, um...I um feel like genocide is a better way to put it because it’s a mass killing of a population, the Holocaust-

R: Yeah the Holocaust is tied to a specific event.

F: Yeah, so I have also seen a video of a Holocaust survivor who went vegan, who compared it to the Holocaust, but I think that is his right.

R: Yeah when you are affected. If someone is from a group and critiquing a way a group is handling something, ok I’ll listen to your side of this but when it’s an outsider, I’m not sure you have a say in that.

F: No, and even the way the Holocaust happened, the steps to the Holocaust didn’t happen to animals, the animals weren’t stereotyped, they weren’t vilified. I don’t think it’s accurate.

R: At the same time I don’t think it’s just comparing everything to the Holocaust, just listen to Jewish people when we start saying, “Hey, this is looking eerily similar.”. I remember in 2015/16 I remember saying, “Hey when you look at his platform,” I’m sure we all know who he is--

*laughs*

R: “he has pretty much the textbook definition of fascism.” “Oh no, he doesn’t have this one step, it’s fine.” And then he’ll pass that step and it’s like, “Hey guys, I told you we’ve seen this before….these are the 14 steps and we’re at like 12 now.”

F: Yeah and you’ve studied it so you’d think that people would listen to you.

R: Yeah I started learning about the Holocaust, probably ... first grade in Hebrew school. Ya know ... I’ve seen all these pict---also if people could not just share these Holocaust pictures, constantly without any warning, ... those are photos that are traumatic to a lot of us. Now, I’m used to seeing them again because it’s what I study but you see people, they’ll share things, when they’re comparing to the Holocaust, they’ll put like a Holocaust photo...you know those are people ... that I know. Those are my Grandparent’s friends, those are the parents of one of my teachers. I feel like people forget, they lump it into the numbers “Oh yeah 6 million Jews died”, but yeah each of those 6 million was a person. So when you post a photos, piles of dead bodies, those are people.

F: I don’t agree with that either, even our presentations we would do about the Holocaust, it didn’t feel right seeing these people put behind a title.

R: I feel like people get swept up by the numbers that they forget it’s people. It’s real people who went through this. And it’s sad because we’re getting to that time because the last of the Holocaust survivors are reaching the end of their lifespan, so it’s gonna be harder and harder to have people come in and tell you firsthand, which helps to humanize it.

F: Yeah and especially the deniers, what going to happen when these people--and thank goodness they survived, hopefully they have a peaceful passing, but once they’re gone they’re going to be like “Oh no one has been there….”

R: So another thing, I went to a racist white high school. We had a lot of issues, we had 3 Black people at my school and we had issues with graffiti slurs against the Black people, so they brought in a Holocaust survivor to talk about tolerance, but it was very propaganda. So this Holocaust survivor came in and talked about how they befriended one of the nazi guards and I was like “This is not the story that we need to be sharing…

F: Wh-what?

R:... this nazi guard and this Jewish person became friend like that’s not how it is for the 99.9% of them. Don’t use it as your propaganda for tolerance saying “Yeah the victims and the ones who are hurting them should just like this person should just forget about what happened to them and just be friends with them.” So I think it’s just used as propaganda a lot instead of letting it stand as the story it is.

F: Or even “taking the high road”. Just like pretending you love everybody, “I love the people who did this to my family, my community”

R: It makes the people who don’t (take the high road) seem like they’re being irrational...hey I don’t like Nazis, I support punching Nazis then like “Hey you need to preach tolerance.” no they murdered people I know.

F: Yeah I’ve even, I’ve only seen one Nazi-Nazi in Nevada in person, it’s just ......he was wearing a Deutschland shirt, it’s just so crazy how--I made a post about this, and he just looked so weak, that always stuck with me. He looked so weak and insecure, and I’m like you should feel that way because there are so many groups of people who are stronger with their bonds with each other, like the Jewish community or any community, that you should feel weak because you just want to be an angsty little white boy. Side note: he looked me in the eyes and I looked at him back and he left. So….

*laughs*

F: That was only a fraction of what you feel. I feel ... we’re so desensitized to swastikas, I mean I haven’t seen one as graffiti, but the image, I feel we are too desensitized to that.

R: Oh yeah I get frustrated with people who say “We need to reclaim the swastika”.

F: *Laughs* “Noo”

R: I get you wanna reclaim if but it’s too far gone. It’s traumatizing for the Jewish community, I get it used to be the symbol of peace…

F: Right

R: But it’s just not what that is anymore.

F: I mean that’s why it was taken, I’m sure you’ve studied this, but that’s why Hitler got people to jump on board because it’s this pretty picture of this “peaceful future”. So taking it back would almost be like...that’s where it started and look at where we are...

R: I personally haven’t come across Jews who want to reclaim it, it’s non-Jews. And there might be Jews who want to, I don’t know every Jew on Earth but the ones I’ve interacted with are all uncomfortable seeing swastikas. And you know when I see those photos of swastikas on this Jewish cemetery destroying the grave, it’s ... I can’t help picture that with my Grandparent’s graves, ... oh what if this was where my family was buried.

F: Yeah in my hometown there was a lot of that going around, just everywhere, it’s just disgusting. The fact that non-Jewish people suggested reclaiming that? That’s just disgusting and inappropriate. You don’t have a right to-- for anyone watching, you don’t have a right to go up to a Jewish person and say “No but I wanna do this” no, that’s not right, if it doesn’t apply to you, don’t speak on it. Or try to reclaim anything. I’m done with reclaiming things. When you said “non-Jewish people” I thought that you were talking about your Jewish friends who thought “You know maybe we could take it back…”

R: No.

F: Deadass

R: No all the Jewish people I know don’t like seeing swastikas and have no interest in seeing them in our lives.

F: Like understandably, it’s not even crazy! I wouldn’t. Ugh.

What would you like to see more of from allies?

R: Um, I think more listening, I like this kind of stuff, just having a conversation. Just not speaking for us and just amplifying our voices. And again, not conflating Judaism and Christianity. Not being like “Oh our Judeo-Christian values” Jews aren’t good because they’re related to this Christian thing, no it’s our own thing, it’s very different religion. And even if what the Jewish person is saying something you don’t agree with, just listen at least and say your side, you know we’re not a monolith. We aren’t one person with one mind. We aren’t going to agree on everything, and you know if someone said that something you said was anti-Semitic, don’t get defensive, let them explain why and try and be better. Because we’re not going around saying every single thing is anti-Semitic.

F: Of course, you have a reason

R: Call out celebrities when they promote dangerous things.

F: Yeah like dangerous ideas. I would like to personally work on what things are inherently anti-Semitic and have been popularized so I know and can share that info.

R: And also for the stuff I’ve seen recently, when people seem to be calling out anti-Semitism they call it out a lot more strongly with Black people and that’s a problem. Black people can be anti-Semitic, we saw that with Nick Canon, we saw that with Luis Farakesh, (Edit: She meant Louis Farrakhan)

F: Ice cube

R: We’ve seen Black celebrities say anti-Semitic things and also white celebrities so don’t just call it out when it’s just Black people. I’ve been following some Black dudes on twitter who are saying “Hey this makes me really uncomfortable. Why are you going so hard against this person and not against this person?”

F: Yeah I guess I never thought about that with the Nick Canon thing. That was a mess.

R: Yeah and what he said was completely wrong.

F: I heard so many different versions of what he said, ... “Black people are beautiful” but wait no that’s not what he said

*laughs*

F: I do think um my question about POC people being anti-Semitic was based on Ice Cube, honestly. That shocked me, I was shocked, my jaw fell when he posted an anti-semitic image, not a swastika. How can you want support and then do this? So...

R: I think it’s the idea that they’re punching up.

F: Yeah, I’m glad you mentioned looking for how people react to a POC being anti-Semitic V. a white person because I can’t even recall the last time I heard a white person like be called out, or dragged/cancelled as much as Nick Canon.

R: Yeah you’ll see it with the right-wing politicians, they’ll get called out, but you don’t see it from the moderates or left wing celebrities, even though they’re also out there saying things.

F: Like anyone can be anti-Semitic anyone can be racist and I think that’s why I want to share your perspective to help a little bit, because even your friends and family can be saying stuff like this, it’s important to not let it slip through (and think) “Oh they didn’t mean that”...address it. I hope this helps in some way. Thanks for letting me interview you

R: Thanks for wanting to interview me.

F: No problem. I’m gonna stop this and then we can talk a lil’ privately. Byeeee

R: Bye.

Let’s have a discussion! Did you learn anything new from this conversation?

Let me know here.

To close out each post, I’d like to write a lil’ paragraph about the person I talk with:

Rachel is kind and expresses her thoughts skillfully. Her resilience is deeply apparent because she’s able to study the horrific history of her people and still stay sane. That is a feat I could never, ever, live up to. Reliving pain takes such a huge amount of strength and power. Rachel’s kind words (and others’ from in the egg gang ;) ) really helped me when I was in a dark spot. I’m blessed that you took the time to talk with my wacky self. I hope we continue to be friends and I also hope you know that I’m always here for you, Rachel, as you were there for me.

You are a treasure.

-Faithxx

#intersectionality #jewish community #discussionswithfaith #twilight

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