#everywhere I photograph at that is what I gravitate towards

[neofelis----nebulosa]

Looking at photos you’ve taken on vacation is crazy bc it’s like not be all like take me back 😔😫 but like, take me back, you know

[fandomfluffandfuck]

ok so the new pics of our boys have made me simultaneously freak out and wish i was there. obviously this has sparked thoughts, mainly bc there most definitely needs to be a subastian comeback after seeing chris place those not-so-slick lingering touches all over seb’s back.

(this is so long cos i got carried away but will not be apologising😭😭)

the way seb feels nervous as he finishes being photographed and starts up the street, cameras everywhere and waiting for him to do something worthy of publishing. he walks up to the place where all of kevin’s guests are waiting and… there he is. chris. standing beside another man seb doesnt recognise but cant care about because look. chris has decided apparently that he wants to torment sebastian by showing up wearing one of his signature tight shirts. it stretches across his chest perfectly, squeezing at the meat of his biceps and making them bulge obscenely out of the sleeves. seb cant stop staring, even as he excuses himself to get through the crowd of people blocking his path to chris.

he gravitates towards the older man, not stopping until they’re within touching distance and even then, sebastian is unable to stop staring at the sharp cut of chris’ jaw and the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. a few seconds go by until chris notices hes there, and he turns to sebastian with such warmth in his eyes that seb isnt sure what to do with himself.

“seb! you made it,” he says, that low voice of his washing over sebastian as he nods and allows chris to get in his space, “im so glad to see you.”

its been a while since they last saw each other in person, and yet the pavlovian response sebs body has to even the slightest bit of praise from chris comes back in full force. he smiles widely, a deep blush coloring his cheeks when chris places a large hand on the small of his back. the touch makes sebastian shiver and he hangs on to whatever chris is saying, introducing seb to the other man even though his name goes in one ear and out of the other. sebastians brain is too busy trying not to melt out of his ears as chris slides his hand across to his hip and then lower down his back.

“you guys havent met before, have you?” chris is saying, and sebastian shakes his head, subconsciously leaning into the touch he has missed for the better part of a year (since they filmed ghosted together). the thrill of knowing the things he used to let chris do to him behind closed doors is making sebs head feel foggy as he tries his best to engage in the conversation. fortunately, chris does most of the talking for him, another thing seb appreciates because it just goes to show how well chris really knows him.

until everyone is told to take their seats, chris doesnt remove his hand from sebastians back and it drives him crazy. the fleeting touch would be innocent if not for the past nights that had started with a polite hand on sebs back and ended with one fisted in his hair. and it doesnt help sebastian to relax when chris keeps stealing in depth glances at him out of the corner of his eye - it only serves to make seb want to meet that gaze in the hopes that its as hungry as he remembers it to be.

chris leads him towards their chairs when the conversation ends. they sit down, an empty chair labelled ‘chris pratt’ placed between their seats. chris takes the time to lean over and catch sebs attention.

“you cut your hair,” he murmurs into sebastians ear, “i like it.”

“thank you, chris,” seb replies, ever polite just how chris taught him, blushing furiously under the praise. he wants too many things at once - for chris to reach out and touch him, anywhere or everywhere, sebastian doesnt care.

“you’re welcome, sweetheart,” says chris, and the nickname makes sebs stomach flip, “though, it is a lot shorter than it used to be. less to pull on, in my opinion.”

sebastian couldnt feel more cornered if he tried, despite being in the middle of a crowd of actors who all have no ided what is manifesting between him and chris in this moment. sebastian blinks and suddenly, another man is taking up the space between him and chris; chris pratt. he grins at the two of them and strikes up and comversation with sebastian’s chris. seb inwardly grumbles but is partially grateful for the interruption - he isnt sure what he might have done if chris kept looking at him like that. hungry. wanting. like, if he could, he was seconds from leading seb away from the group and pushing him up against a wall somewhere.

inevitably, after another round of photos and festering sexual tension, thats exactly what ends up happening. with the paps having taken all the photos they need and their cameras being put away, chris takes the opportunity to gently nudge sebastian towards a theatre of some kind nearby and into one of the single bathrooms around the corner.

the moment the door locks, neither of them can keep their hands off each other. its been so long without any time alone, months since seb has felt the way chris touches his body like he owns it and makes sebastian ache like he never has before. the two of them are all heavy breathing and sloppy kisses and eager hands, untucking shirts and unbuttoning pants.

its animal, the kind of hunger that latches onto sebastians gut and tugs, making him press chris into the door and line up their bodies so he can get one of chris’ thick thighs between his own and use it to give himself some relief.

“fuck, i missed you, sweetheart,” chris whispers, letting his hands find their way into sebastians hair, “you’ve been on my mind for months.”

“you thought about me?” seb asks breathlessly, not because he doesnt believe chris but because hearing how much chris wanted him might be enough to get him off.

“of course i did,” chris says, pushing his thigh into sebastians erection and eliciting a wanton moan from the younger mans mouth, “ive been waiting to get my hands on you for as long as we’ve been apart. you have no idea the things i want to do to you - you’re the prettiest thing ive ever seen and ive wanted to show you just how much i want you for months.”

chris continues with his sweet words until seb is making embarrassingly pathetic noises into the crook of chris’ neck, biting and licking at it in between gentle whimpers and desperate whines.

“are you close already, baby? are you gonna use me and make yourself come?”

seb nods weakly, his breath catching in his throat as he grinds against chris’ thigh with irregular movements and chases his pleasure.

“make a mess for me, sweetheart, thats a good boy…”

chris’ encouragement is what does seb in, in the end. he comes in his fucking underwear like a teenager, pressing his fingers into every part of chris’ body that he can reach and pulling him in as closely as he can.

when this is over, theyll talk some more, maybe arrange to get coffee together since theyre both currently in the same city. chris will invite sebastian over to his hotel and seb will pretend he isnt vibrating at the prospect of having an actual bed for chris to take him apart on. but in the meantime, seb needs to calm down, get his legs working again, and tell chris just how much he enjoyed this.

oh. and figure out a way to clean up his pants…

- ok thanks for reading this mess i just let the thoughts flow and they would not stop😅

related to pictures from Chris and Seb being together at the Hollywood Wa/k Of Fame ceremony for kevin Feige

Yeah! If I couldn't've been there, then I'm so fucking glad we got so much footage and so many angles of it! Every single one makes me stare at my phone like an idiot.

The "not-so-slick" touches... yeah 😮‍💨😮‍💨 we all KNOW that Chris being handsy makes poor Sebastian feel some kind of way.

(No! Do not apologize!! I am always here for the length 😏)

Exactly! The tight shirt! Evans, HOW COULD YOU. I love this description of Chris, too 🤤🤤 Anyone would stop dead in their tracks, no matter the amount of famous foot traffic behind them, lol

"Touching distance" is so visceral!! I love!

The sweetness of Chris underlaid with Seb's trained response to it 😏 I love it and the casual possessive touching, too. Get it, Seb! Let that name go in one ear and out the other 💀💀

The lean in! The fogginess!! Yes!

"until everyone is told to take their seats, chris doesnt remove his hand from sebastians back and it drives him crazy. the fleeting touch would be innocent if not for the past nights that had started with a polite hand on sebs back and ended with one fisted in his hair. and it doesnt help sebastian to relax when chris keeps stealing in depth glances at him out of the corner of his eye - it only serves to make seb want to meet that gaze in the hopes that its as hungry as he remembers it to be."

That whole fucking paragraph. Just. Yeah. 😮‍💨🥴

The way Chris taught him? 👀 Oh? I would like to know more?

Cock block Pratt, how dare he, lmao. But Seb's right with that... there would've been shit going down not appropriate for the public if something hadn't stopped them. Oh, if only 😈

YES! GET IT! GET THEM AWAY FROM THOSE CROWDS!

"its animal, the kind of hunger that latches onto sebastians gut and tugs, making him press chris into the door and line up their bodies so he can get one of chris’ thick thighs between his own and use it to give himself some relief."

I. Yeah. Yup. That's hot.

Of course, Seb likes hearing Chris say it 😏

“are you close already, baby? are you gonna use me and make yourself come?”

I. WILL. DIE.

Me and so will Sebastian when he has to do the walk of shame out of that bathroom. Sorry, boys, but I kind of hope the paps get pictures of that, too 👀

In conclusion:

I love this whole fucking scene for them, the mounting tension between them with this whole event as build up, the cutting loose so soon after the event, and the tease at more...

Goddamn.

Thank you for this. I will now read it again and picture more about how they look in that fucking bathroom stall because. Yeah.

[sapphos-darlings]

i dont know if im just being dramatic or whatever, but being wlw seems so lonely to me. everywhere i look i have such a low chance of meeting a bi woman, and practically no chance of meeting a fellow lesbian. i dont know if its just the fact of me living in a tiny conservative country or what, but god do i wish more women were wlw, its so isolating having no one who is like you around :/

Dear Anon, you are not being dramatic. I feel like that sometimes too.

Lesbian loneliness is definitely something real and specific to us. I so wish we had more of happy things to bond over, but you are going through something your fellow lesbian sisters across the world also have felt like.

I'm lucky to live in a Nordic country, so I won't pretend to be able to fully relate to your situation, but I can say this: There are as many bi women and lesbians where you live as in my country. We are everywhere, we will never go away, and you are never as alone as you might feel. In moments of deep loneliness, I remember all those women in history who were able to find each other and be together against all odds. You can find them from books and movies. Even today, all over the world, women like us find each other and make connections.

In fact, most LGBT people I know have just sort of found each other, as if gravitating naturally towards each other. I'm sure you too will find those circles, those places and hobbies where we just happen to be. There are more of us than it feels.

I know meeting people in real life is priceless, but you should also take advantage of the internet. Make connections here, anonymously if your safety demands so (no photographs, burner email, VPN, nickname and avatar with no connection to your other social media accounts etc). You'll find likeminded women, hope and advice, perhaps even from your own country no matter how small or conservative it is. Hell, years ago I followed here on tumblr a lesbian from Bahrain, and she finally managed to move out of her country. I also advice you to scroll our #ask tag. I remember at least one Saudi lesbian Sade replied to with a lot of thought and help.

You are not alone, Anon! There's hope and a future waiting for you!

-Lavender

[xsweetcatastrophe]

You Broke Me First

Part 9

"Pick up, pick up..." Zoe mumbled, while pacing back and forth.

Finally, the screen on her phone changed to her sister's flustered face. "Sorry, I was getting Sophie out of the bath," She said, sounding out of breath. "But the second her feet hit the floor, she takes off like the road runner and how she's running naked around the house getting water everywhere... sometimes I think she's part dog" she said, starting to ramble.

"Ok can this be about me for a second because I'm about to spiral" Zoe interrupted.

"ok, do I have to pour a glass of wine for this?"

"I think you might need the bottle"

"Oh boy, okay let me tell John to wrangle Sophie and put her to bed then"

for the next 25 minutes Zoe told her sister everything; from the interview, to the morning after, to the day at work, to the fake date, to the kiss outside her apartment.

"Are you kidding me?!?! Zoe, you can't catch feelings for him, so get that out of your head right now" Her sister said, pouring herself a glass of wine.

"Jen don't you think I already know that?! I was hoping there would be one article and a couple pictures of us out and this would all blow over in a week. Doesn't look like it" Zoe whined.

"I thought I had an exciting week with Soph pooping on the potty for the first time. You always gotta one-up me don't you?" Jen replied smugly.

"I would gladly change Soph's dirty diapers for the next 5 years than deal with this" Zoe said, collapsing on the couch.

"Listen. Don't get caught up in it. Keep your feet on the ground and every time you speak to him, remind yourself it's just for show. It's a job. You get attached too easily and this is just going to end badly for you in the end" Jen said.

"What did I even call you for? you're telling me things I already know" Zoe said, getting annoyed.

"Ok, lets change subjects then... did you book your flight?"

"flight for what?" Zoe said, confused.

"Ok, Rude. Sophie's birthday party, remember?" Jen said, annoyingly.

"OH - yea, sorry. I have the site that tracks the prices of flights and I check it every day, I'm on top of it" Zoe said.

"Ok, Just checking... Hey, I love you, you know that right? And I worry about you a lot" Jen said, her voice softer.

"I know. I love you too"

Jen and Zoe had a great relationship; where Zoe sometimes felt disconnected from her mom due to bickering back and forth, she ran to Jen. Jen had a maternal side of her that showed in the way she cared for her younger sister. Maybe it was because there was such a large age gap; Jen being 7 years older. Maybe it was because where Jen and her mom gravitated towards each other more, Zoe and her Father were closer. Now that Zoe's dad wasn't here anymore, Jen tried her best to fill in the void Zoe felt. Jen always felt her dad protected Zoe from everything. With him gone, Jen figured she can't step in and protect Zoe from everything, but she can hold her hand and go through it with her, no matter what it was. Sometimes she felt like she was letting her down, especially living in another state.

The girls said their goodbyes and promptly hung up the phone. Zoe sighed, feeling the temperature start to rise in her small apartment. She opened all the windows and brought out the fans, turning them on and shutting off the lights. She made her way to the bathroom and showered, washing the day off of her. She blasted the cold water for as long as she could before she got out; she was about to have a warm night so she wanted to cherish the cold for as long as she physically could.

Zoe stepped out and made her way to the bedroom, not bothering with a towel. As she was standing by her dresser grabbing a pair of underwear, she became aware that her windows were open and there were just a gang of photographers camped outside. She grabbed a pair of underwear and a big T-Shirt and got dressed quickly, hoping no one was outside with one of those super zoom camera lenses peeking into her window.

She decided to sleep in the living room since it was a bit cooler. She passed out on the couch, not before adjusting a fan to point it directly at her.

Zoe woke up to someone banging on her door.

She jumped up, confused and startled. "One minute!" She yelled, making her way to the door. She stopped short, realizing she didn't have pants on.

"One minute!" She yelled again, running to her bedroom and grabbing a pair of sleep shorts. She ran back to the front door, running her fingers through her hair thinking it might help.

She opened the door to a man standing there with a large box and a cliipboard.

"Zoe Parker?" He said, checking his clipboard.

"Yea.. hi?" She said, hesitantly.

"Where do you want it?" He said, motioning to the large box next to him.

Zoe looked at him, confused. "Sorry, there's been a mistake. I didn't order anything."

The man looked at his clipboard again. "Is... C. Murphy here? he placed the order yesterday and requested expedited delivery. I was told this had to be my first stop today" He said, checking his papers.

Zoe's stomach dropped.

"Oh. Yea, he's not here sorry.... what is it?" She said, looking at the box. It was just a brown cardboard box, not the product box so there was no pictures on the outside.

"It's a floor air conditioner."

Author's note: filler chapter, sorry

Tags: @lau219 @wolfieellsworld 

[rosyjuly]

Hi ma’am when I sent in that sewis Prince au ask I didn’t ask to emotionally obliterated by your George thank you. “like it's allowed” 😭😭😭 GOD GEORGIE I can’t!!! The way he immediately stuffs all of his surprise and wonder away in a box labeled “it might be okay for others but not me” I’m CRYING. How he’s not ever seen any gay couples so open in these spaces (and I’m sure definitely not one so well known?) the thought of him watching them every time they cross paths…wondering what it would be like just to be able to hold Alex’s hand or share the peck on the cheek he just watched Seb give Lewis, at some gala where Lewis is receiving an award Seb sitting next to George just so effusive in his praise and love for Lewis and George feeling like he’s drowning… please ignore if any of this is a spoiler for anything in Prince au but the idea that Seb and Lewis might directly or indirectly help George hopefully(!!!!!!) get to a freer happier place…I would die. ❤️💜🫠 sorry to drag u to sewis in this universe too but also you absolutely brought that on yourself with ur gorgeous singer au alerting us rabid sniffer dogs that you write such beautiful sewis so really at the end of the day that’s on you 😊

anon you and i are twins separated at birth... this entire ask is just hugely true and correct. george reading through lewis's wikipedia page and carefully clicking through the references about his coming out.

googling their names and let me reference the gorgeous scholarship from the other brilliant anon who said "lewis wins an award and mentions seb in his speech and the camera pins to seb sitting at the table grinning widely and blowing him a kiss," completely unaware that he's filmed and broadcasted. and george is just. astonished that other people get to have this, get to have a husband, get to accompany them to public events, get to love them openly.

like. lewis could be happy, maybe, if he wasn't with seb. maybe. but then they're at another event (no spoilers) seb is standing by the wall with all the other family members, beaming proudly, filming on his phone even though there are cameras and photographers everywhere. but he wants to have a video! and then cordelia (my beloved, behated cordelia i am OBSESSED with her) comes over, herding a photographer so george and lewis can get a photo together. and seb, who's been standing there, beaming, with lewis's arm around him, steps away so that only lewis and george are in the photo. and then george gulps and carefully says that they should take another with the three of them. of course he would offer it to all spouses, so. and then he's watching how easily lewis and seb fit together, how they gravitate towards the other, how lewis squeezes his hand, quick, like a reassurance.

and then george thinks about what it would feel like to have alex with him at these stupid things, to have someone his eyes could return to when he's sick and tired of the pretenses, whose touch could calm him down, a focal point in the noise and chaos.

[sailorhyunjinz]

~ 𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕡𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 ~

Part III

© sailorhyunjinz 2021; Rights Reserved

All picture rights to their respective owners.

ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥: Photographer!Hyunjin x fem!model!reader, manager!Bangchan, stylist!Jisung, agedup!straykids, SMUT, fluff, character driven story, stranger to lovers, summer!au, soft!dom hyunjin x fem!reader, PIV, penetrative sex, protected sex (wow first time writing that, good on ya cher) sexual photos/pictures taken during sex, semi-public sex, orgasm (m/f), cum, fingering, blowjob, light choking, praise kink, handkink??

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 5.4 k

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: am so creative with the office numbers? right? tell me im creative LMAO

oh god this was a fucking pain in the ass to read through i cringed at every sentence so hopefully my pain will be your pleasure

Taking pictures of you - MASTERLIST

ONE｜TWO｜THREE

Unlike any other day you couldn’t get out of bed. A boulder of nervousness plaguing you. Through the cracks of the blinds the sun shined in, small particles of dust floating around your resting figure. You were wide awake yet you felt asleep, your thoughts consuming your mind as the dimly lit room became brighter as time ticked on.

You were thinking, perhaps overthinking. This whole situation with Hyunjin seemed confusing and happened way to fast, your psyche not having a moment to digest the events that unfolded during the last couple of days.

Love was a feeling you were familiar with. You knew how it felt. Those butterflies in ones stomach, fluttering everytime a thought of the person passes through your ones.

You felt the same feeling everytime you thought of Hyunjin.

How his soft lips would feel against your cheek that was hot from just looking at his beauty. How his blond hair falls in his face everytime he puts it into a ponytail, his silver decorated fingers tucking the stray pieces behind his pierced ear. These thoughts alone would make your heart beat faster than ever, you eyes clouding with lust even if you knew that this relationship would be impossible given the status the both of you have in this judging industry.

Pushing the covers aside, you sat up before slowly stepping out, your feet hitting the cold flooring of the apartment. You stretched your arms upwards, feeling your spine extend as you squinted, a ray of sunshine hitting you right in the eyes.

The boulder in your chest didn’t feel any lighter but you still got up, wanting time to fly by fast just so you could see his face once again.

♡

No amount of mindfulness exercises could calm the churning of your stomach. The clock in your living room ticked as you watched it with careful eyes, waiting for the time to hit precisely half past before you got up from the couch and shuffled over to the wardrobe, only being stopped from a pling on your phone.

[Bangchan] y/n! can you come by in about an hour? need to discuss some concept photos, sorry for such short notice ❤️

That’s when it hit you. Bangchan didn’t know anything about this. He didn’t know that you’d seen the photos from the shoot and most importantly that you went on a date with the photographer. You could only describe the feeling as ‘improper’. Bangchan was after all one of the closest people in your life, he made you to who you are today and lying to him felt wrong but you shielded your eyes from the truth as you typed back.

[y/n] soz, got plans

[Bangchan] I don’t see any other meeting scheduled for today?

[y/n] you do know that I have a life outside of work? take the day off Chan, you could use some rest ❤️

[Bangchan] Don’t worry about me! You have fun alright?

[y/n] alright, see you next week then ^^

You clicked on the off button on your phone, making the text messages disappear. Getting paranoid, you plopped down on the couch, thinking about every possible way you could get caught which you’d already been, photos of you and Hyunjin circulating throughout social media but they mustn’t have reached Bangchan just yet. You felt like digging a hole underground, wanting to hide away from all these thoughts. The main thought in your mind was whether or not you understood Hyunjin’s intentions. 

What if this love was one sided? 

Waveing your hand in the air, you attempted to get the mind out of your head as if you were breaking up a cloud of real thoughts. You glanced up at the clock and only then realised that you were running late, as usual.

“Wear whatever you want”

Was what Hyunjin said last time but that didn’t make it easier to choose an outfit. Standing infront of multiple racks of clothing you pulled up the weather application on your phone. “Sunny” you mumbled, making you gravitate towards a beige croptop with white stripes around the neckline as well as a white tennis skirt. Not too dressed up but not too dressed down either, just right. Clothes were flying everywhere when you searched for a pair of white socks to pair with your white high platform sneakers. You put the outfit on, observing yourself in the mirror and smiling, trying to get yourself in a better mood rather than being a nervous wreck. Pulling up your phone, you snapped a picture and sent it to the person who knew best about fashion. Jisung.

[y/n] Sungie! Is this acceptable for a impromptu photoshoot?

The fashionable boy replied minutes later.

[Jisung] oh!! that’s so cute! very much acceptable in my book 🥺

You smiled at his reply

[y/n] phew! good... 

[Jisung] is it a date?

Your fingers froze above the keyboard on the phone. Was it that noticeable? Was this really a date? 

[y/n] no!!!

[Jisung] you sure, i saw those photos on social media. ahh.. y/n dating famous photographers now...

By this point you were sweating bullets. 

[y/n] first of all, i’m not meeting him and second of all, he’s a friend so shut it. 

[Jisung] hahah alright alright... i won’t tell Bangchan

[y/n] you have nothing to tell!! we’re friends just like you and I so be quiet otherwise i’ll come over there with balloons, popping them in your face.

[Jisung] oh wow... im so scared...

[y/n] need to leave, if i hear something about you spreading some rumors i’ll seriously do it.

[Jisung] Photo Attachment.

The photo that popped up was from yesterday and your breath hitched. You couldn’t help but to notice the way Hyunjin was looking at you, his eyes filled what seemed like adoration. 

[Jisung] yeah because that totally doesn’t look like a date

[y/n] DON’T TELL BANGCHAN PLEASE

[Jisung] oh so it is a date? alright, i won’t! have fun and be safe

[y/n] be safe? we’re taking pictures, not drag racing

[Jisung] hahah stop playing innocent

Your eyes widened in realisation.

[y/n] you crazy fucker

[y/n] I WILL DESTROY YOUR ENTIRE WARDROBE IF YOU DON’T SHUT UP I DON’T SLEEP ON THE FIRST DATE

[Jisung] Whatever you say

Thanks to Jisung you were now running dangerously late leading to you snatching objects from all corners of the apartment before ordering a cab that would arrive in minutes.

♡

“We’ve arrived, miss” the cab driver says, smiling at you through the rear-view mirror. You thank him and step out of the yellow car, a smell of car exhaust hitting your nose. The cab drives away, leaving nothing but a small cloud of smoke. You looked up, almost not seeing the tip of the building as the skyscraper towered over you. You’re beside the busy road, mouth agape. You’d walked by a couple of times but knowing that you knew the person that owned at least a bit of the building made you giddy. 

You walked in and was greeted by a grand lobby, a front desk as big as the wall behind it. The entire place was filled with people, everyone from business men in suits to trainee models in the most flamboyant outfits. Fishnet stockings, heavy chains and distressed jeans that consisted of more air then jeans material. The sun shined through the many glass panes that made up most of the ceiling and the slight breeze of the air conditioner made this whole vibe of the building comforting. 

“Hi! y/n y/l/n, meeting Hwang Hyunjin” you say to the receptionist that was a relatively old woman, probably in her early 60′s. She was wearing a white button down shirt with her hair in a high bun, a couple of gray strands sticking out. Her red painted mouth contorted into a smile. 

“y/n, Hyunjin said that you could make your way to his office without the guards. You must be a close friend” 

You smiled shyly with your warm cheeks, looking at either side of the desk where two tall buff men were standing, wearing walkie talkies on their black vests. With a small nod, you started speaking. 

“W-where exactly is his office?”

“Floor 20, his main office is in room 03″

“Thank you!” 

You quickly shuffled over to the elevators, pushing the button that lit up with orange light emitting. 

PLING

The doors to the elevator opened and you stepped inside, a couple of office workers joining you and pressing the necessary buttons to make the elevator lift off. 

You step out at the 20th floor, looking around at all the intricate wall design, everything inspired by ancient greece which explains the broken vases that were scattered across the hallway in the most unconventional places. They were all encapsulated with glass and standing on tall white pillars, the vases looking rather sad, being in a spectra of ashy grey colors, every single one of them falling apart. 

Stopping, you observed this one vase that caught your attention. It had swirly details around the edge and was shattered in a rather beautiful way. It made you think how even the most broken pieces still carry beauty, beauty unique to only oneself. 

“It’s pretty right?”

The voice sounded familiar and warm, almost as if it had anticipated your arrival. 

“y-yeah, it really is” 

You say turning around, nearly jumping up on the wall when seeing the figure that looked back at you. It was Hyunjin.

Yet again, his presence was astonishing. Everytime you met him it felt as if you’d met him for the first time. The blond boy was standing tall in front of you, wearing a black hoodie, black basketball shorts and a matching headband. A backpack was thrown across his one shoulder and a smaller camera around his neck, everything about his appearence looking completely different from the last time you saw him, his style usually more sophisticated. 

“On your way to meet me, yeah?” he asked and you nodded shyly. 

“My office is the other way, you know?”

You lifted your gaze to look at the tiny sign on the wall that pointed in two directions, you were walking down the hallway for offices 20-40 by accident and you smiled awkwardly, scratching the back of your head. 

“I didn’t know heh...” 

“It’s alright! Come with me, I was on my way to the studio”

“What room is that? Your office?”

“No, the room next to my office, come! I’ll show you!”

He grabbed your hand and you felt your body stiffen as he dragged you down the hallway, his hand not being decorated with statement rings this time, instead feeling soft and warm. You blanked out, your legs walking by themselves. 

He stopped at a brown door, a tiny gold sign saying « 04 » and beside it a transparent sign stating that this was a photography studio. Hyunjin opened the door and dragged you in, closing the door behind you.

A cold wind hit your warm body, the air conditioner blasting it’s breeze with a faint sound. The room was wide, one wall being made completely out of glass, stand close enough and you could peer down the bustling city filled with people, cars and buildings. The typical photoshoot setup was already in place, the camera being propped up infront of a white backdrop, a white pilar in the middle and two boxlights standing unlit behind the camera. In the corner stood a vintage brown leather couch, the swirly metal details were concealed with a layer of chipped gold paint. Beside the couch stood a simple white table. A black bucket rested on the floor and upon closer inspection you noticed plants, multiple stems of eucalyptus poking out, wrapped in cellophane.

“What are these for?” 

You sat down on your knees infront of the bucket while Hyunjin was pressing buttons on the camera that was screwed onto the tripod before walking over to the table and placing down the camera he had around his neck, his backpack lying lazily on the floor. He looked at your crouching figure, the corners of his lips going upwards.

“I thought they’d suit you”

You held in one of the stems, turning your head and looking at his shy smile, his dimples sitting playfully on the sides of his cheeks. You giggle, standing up and leaning against the white pillar, holding the plant in your both hands. 

“Do they?”

Hyunjin walked towards the steadied camera, bending down and peeking through the lens.

“They do”

click

Your eyes widen, him snapping a picture without you paying attention.

“Hey! I wasn’t even prepared!” you chuckle, pointing at the blonde boy with the long plant that was dripping at the stem. 

“Nature is a bit more beautiful when caught off guard, don’t you think?” Hyunjin says, his honey-like voice, echoing through the room.

You nod, staring down at the leafs of the plant, rubbing them between your thumb and pointer finger. 

click

click 

click

“Try leaning with your butt against the pillar and with one foot fully on the side of the pillar”

You did as he told, the pillar being surprisingly stable.

“Tilt your head and look down to the right”

Once again, you follow his instruction and he hums in satisfaction before pushing the button on the camera twice.

click

click

Your warm face turned into a smile, laughing loudly from embarrassment when he observed the pictures on his display. He snickers quietly from shyness, a faint blush brushing across his features as his brown eyes were glued to the screen. Hyunjin peeks up from the camera, seeing you looking down at the backdrop that was filled with ashy grey shoeprints. 

The sound of his footsteps got closer until you saw them in your periferal view causing you to look up at his tentative face. He smiles, displaying his pearly white teeth and crescent shaped eyes before stretching his hand out, feather light fingertips grazing your hot cheek as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, your dainty gold earrings now visible. Hyunjin’s hand lingers on your jaw as he looks at you with a gleam in his eyes, you gulping loudly as your gaze lowers to his pouty pink lips. Leaning forward, Hyunjin tilts his head, attaching his lips onto yours, your heart skipping a beat from the comforting feeling of having him close to you. 

You drop the fragile twig on the floor, kissing him back by pursing your lips and tilting your head as well. The romantic tension that has been bubbling on the surface everytime you met had finally subsided, now the air overflowed sexual tension. 

Cupping his blushed cheeks, you deepen the kiss my licking his plump bottom lip, coaxing his tongue that eventually slipped into your mouth. His hands were firmly planted on your waist, pulling you closer to his body that radiated heat in the already scorching summer weather. 

The two tongues danced around in a impatient manner, the two of you dreaming of this moment since meeting. Hyunjin’s hands roamed over all the valleys of your body, placing his hands on the bottom of your butt, pulling you even closer, close enough to feel his semi-erection against your abdomen. Your eyes spring open in realisation, your body melting in his arms as you felt the effects of the deep kiss, the effects being you unable to control the wet patch that was forming on your underwear, nothing but the thin fabric seperating it from the air due to you wearing a skirt. 

Pulling away from the kiss, your hot breath and a line of saliva was the only thing that seperated you and Hyunjin. You shielded your face from his twinkling eyes, you glancing at the blonde boy through the gaps between your fingers. His two hands grip your wrists, pulling your hands down as he smiles widely

“Don’t hide that pretty face”

Hyunjin giggles, your chuckles following shortly after. The boy grips your wrist tightly, walking backwards as he looks intensely into your eyes, his back falling against the couch as you sit down on the couch on your knees, he looks at you for a moment before attaching his lips again, pushing you down and hovering above you. The wet sounds of the sloppy kiss fills your ear, you helplessly rubbed your thighs together in anticipation. His fingertips trailed down your chest, tracing small circles on the inside of your thigh before plunging down under your skirt, grazing the wet spot on your underwear. The both of you smile into the kiss. 

“Can I?” Hyunjin says, momentarily pulling away from your sweet lips and tugging on the edge of your panties. You nod shyly, not believing that this is happening. 

His lanky fingers run up and down your wet folds as you put your hand at the back of his neck, pulling his blushing face closer to yours and pursing your lips to kiss him sensually. Hyunjin’s fingers gently brush up against your clit that was swollen from excitement, sending shivers down your spine. 

You knew this was wrong, the door wasn’t even locked meaning that anyone could walk in at any moment but the way lips felt on yours made a thousand fireworks ignite, sparking from your chest. Wrapping your hand around his wide wrist, you guide his fingers down to your sopping entrace, your entire body craving him inside of you.

Hyunjin places once last peck on your soft lips before looking at you with concern, asking for permission with his fluffy brown eyes. You nod, your eyelashes gently fluttering over your eyes. His middle finger slips into you with ease, shortly followed by a second finger from seeing how good your cunt swallowed his digits, your essence coating them. A faint gasp escapes your lips as his fingers felt around your velvety walls, the whole situation still feeling like a dream. 

“D-does it feel good?” 

“mhm!” you hum, nodding your head as your grasp around his wrist tightens everytime he curls his fingers upwards. Small whimpers came from you as his fingers started pumping in and out, the blond boy chuckling at your reaction. 

“Did you think I was innocent?” 

The question lingers in the air as you look at him in the eyes.

“Y-yes,,,” just as the question you let the answer hang in the air as Hyunjin hummed, being knuckles deep into you and curling his fingers upwards once more, making you choke on your own moan. Hyunjin nodded slowly, glancing down at your body as he thought.

“It’s because,,, because you’re shy,, different from the others.” You added quickly, filling the silence that was soon interupted by your whimpers as the so called ‘innocent boy’ started circling your sensitive bud with his thumb. 

“I think you’re different from the others, you make me like this baby”

Hyunjin said, seconds later crashing his lips against yours, his tongue attacking yours. He retracted his fingers, the tips coated in your juices and glistening in the sunlight. You whined inbetween kisses, the feeling of being empty leaving you disappointed. Hyunjin’s veiny hands trailed up your stomach, pulling the croptop up and resting it just above your boobs, your white bra exposed. 

Hyunjin pulled away from the kiss, the both of you breathless as the kisses you exchanged were anything but light. His two damp fingers made their way to his mouth, licking them with a slight smirk on his lips. You could go crazy from the sight alone, his big brown eyes turning blank with lust. Not being able to control yourself any longer, you sat up on your knees and pulled off the top, unclasping your bra while you’re at it. As the fabric hit the floor, Hyunjin’s eyes darted to your bare tits, the wind from the air conditioner stiffening your two sensitive buds. You looked at him with a jumbled expression, him staring at your nipples for what seemed like an eternity. You hummed softly, causing him to snap back into reality, the blond boy pulling the black hoodie up from his head, displaying the defined muscles on his abdomen. You wanted him, you wanted him so bad. 

Your knees hit the floor with a thump as looked up at Hyunjin, knealing between his two legs and watching the tent in his loose shorts grow. 

“Do you really want to do this,, y/n,, you don’t have t-”

You hushed before speaking.

“Don’t worry, Hyunjin” you say with a stern voice making Hyunjin shiver, not knowing if it’s from your tone of voice or the way his name rolled of your tongue.

The blonde boy grabbed the small camera that was resting on the table, you looked up at him with confusion before smiling at his pleading eyes that met yours. You nodded, knowing exactly what he wanted to do and giving him permission since you never knew if he’d get to see you like this ever again. 

You hook your two hands on the sides of his shorts and underwear, pulling the fabric down as Hyunjin awkwardly lifts his hips up from the couch for a moment, allowing you to slide the both garments down in one nimble motion. His veiny length sprung out, the tip hitting his abdomen for a moment before resting infront of your eyes, a bead of precum already leaking from his delicate slit. You gulp, the task of sucking him off suddenly seeming daunting. Hyunjin must have noticed since his face turned concerned, a half smile flashing across his lips. 

“y/n,, you don’t have to-aghh!”

Hyunjin was cut of by his own breathy moan, your pursed lips wrapping around his leaking tip, licking small kitten licks before sinking deeper down his impressive length. Hyunjin’s blonde hair fell out of his face when his head rolled back in pleasure, resting it against the back of the rustic couch. 

“f-fuck y/n,,, just- just like that”

He hummed out, his sweet voice intoxicated with desire. Your tongue swirled around his pretty red tip, simultaneously stroking the part doesn’t fit inside of your wet mouth. Multiple shutters of the camera was heard, his hand barely stable enough to hold it due to the pleasure that was shooting through his core. It didn’t take long before his dick twitched against you lips, your cheeks hollowed as bob up and down his girth. His eyes rolled back into his skull as his hand went down to cup your cheek, your eyes stinging with tears as you choked around him. Pulling off with a pop, his dick glimmered as a heavy layer of saliva rested on it, his already warm body turning hotter. He looks down at you, a smug half-smile errupting on his lips as he continued to stroke your cheek, his thumb grazing your cheekbone as he flicked through the photos on his camera, the half-smile now a full on expression of happiness. The two of you sat like that for a while, the silence engulfing the room as you observed his indescribable features. His sharp jawline contrasted with his soft skin that had a dust of rose pink across the cheeks, his moles adding to his charm. 

“Fuck me, Hyunjin”

The words slipped out of your mouth, his brown shiny eyes widening before being overtaken by a blank gaze, placing the silver camera back on the tiny table. 

“You thought I would stop here?”

Now it was your turn to be flustered, his sugary sweet voice interlaced with the cocky words making you even wetter then before, if that’s even possible. Without answering, he pulled you up to the couch by your hand and laying you down before realising what he forgot. The blond boy reached for the baggy backpack laying on the white floor, unzipping the front pocket and fishing out a condom. You nodded shyly, feeling your hands getting sweatier from nervousness, not really sure where to put them. Hyunjin noticed your gaze that was running all over the room, your body slightly tense. The boy snickered, ripping the shiny wrapping open with his hands where veins had started to become apparent. 

“Something wrong?” He asks shyly, placing the condom on his leaking tip before rolling the rubber onto his length. You shake your head.

“J-just thinking,,,” you say, your voice fading out at the end. 

“About?” His voice inhibiting a questionable tone as he holds himself up above you, his elbows on either side of your head. 

“A-about,,, you” 

That was a lie. You thought about how this would end up being disclosed to your company and your friends, Felix would snap your head if he found out that you slept with Hyunjin. Did it even have to be disclosed? Couldn’t it just be a secret between you and Hyunjin? As much as you wish that it could, it simply couldn’t. Not working in this industry. 

Hyunjin smiled softly, his hand trailing down the curves of your body before lifting up the fabric of your skirt, his fingers pushing your panties aside and feeling your throbbing pussy once again. His caramel eyes looked into you the entire time. 

Lifting himself up, he positioned the tip of his member at your sopping entrance, you chuckling softly as he gripped your hips but your chuckle was quickly replaced by a loud gasp, his dick stretching out your tight pussy better than you thought. 

“Are you ok, y/n?” 

He said softly, his dick not even halfway in but already jerking from your welcomingly wet and warm cunt wrapping around his crimson tip. You nodded, looking up at him. 

“Pl-please,, keep going Hyunjin”

The blonde boy blushed, his ears turning red. Tightening the grip on your hips he fully entered you, you shutting your eyes tightly from the slightly painful but pleasurable experience. Glancing down at you, he had to use every bit of discipline to not pound into you. In his eyes you looked angelic. Your parted lips that we’re coated by saliva and the way your skirt bunched up around your waist made it feel like torture to be inside of you, not moving to let you adjust to his size. 

“C-can I move?” He asks impatiently to which you smile, nodding and wrapping your legs around him, pulling him closer to your warm body. Your breath hitched as he softly wraps his hand around your neck, him thinking he’d gone too far.

“I-im sorry! I-” 

You hush him, placing your index finger over his plush pink lips. 

“I’ll tell you if anything doesn’t feel good, alright?” You so desperatly wanted to place a “baby” at the end of the sentence, that nickname fitted him but being to scared to confess your feelings. Just because he wants you doesnt mean he loves you. Hyunjin nodded like an excited puppy, finally getting the permission of moving and feeling your clenched walls around his length, his one hand still wrapped around your throat. 

His thrusts were slow, filled with passion which only worsened your longing for him, the longing of him being yours. Small whimpers dripped from between your parted lips, the moans being mixed with Hyunjin’s low grunts and sounding like a melody. You peeked up at the model-like boy, his expression being synonymous to pleasure. The movements eventually quickened, his long cock hitting your cervix with every thrust, making you put your hands behind his back, your fingernails digging into his soft honey skin. His previously closed eyes fluttered open, watching you with a soft gaze through his fierce eyes. You smiled and he smiled back before his gaze drifted away from yours.

“Y-you feel so good y-y/n,,, you’re an angel”

Chuckling and moaning at the same time, his praise gave you a sense of security but also a sense of lust, wanting to coax out even more dangerously sweet words from his pretty mouth. 

“Go faster,,, Hyunjin”

You gasped out, the pleasure starting to pick up it’s pace. The sound of skin slapping against each other bounced off the white walls in the big studio, the old sofa creaking ever so often from the blond boys powerful thrusts. Hyunjin would never get tired of hearing you say his name, never. 

The knot in your stomach signaled your impending orgasm as your walls were stretched out. You pleaded him to not stop, your voice sounding frail as you neared your sweet release. The hot tempeture wasn’t helping the situation, sweat beading underneath Hyunjins headband, soaking the two strands of blonde locks that hanged infront of his face. 

“F-fuck,, y/n you’re so pretty with my hands wrapped around your throat, fuck-” 

A loud groan escaped his lips, the pleasure of your wet pussy against his rock-hard length getting too much, Hyunjin having to hold back until you came, not wanting to appear selfish. It wasn’t long until you felt your legs shaking around him, your toes curling as the squeaky sound from the couch increased along with the speed of Hyunjin’s thrusts, the rubber not giving him as much intimacy as he would have liked but the visual of you lying beneath him, squirming away from bliss and softly moaning made up for it. 

“I think- i think I’m cumming, s-shit Hyunjin, I’m cumming”

The words spilled from you, quickly followed by a incoherent mumbling of his name before a wave of hot flashed through your entire body, your walls clenching around him as your erotic juices coated his twitching cock. You held your hands against your face that was lightly coated with sweat but before you could come down from your high Hyunjin pinned your hands above your head by your wrists, him letting out a growl before his cum filled the tip of the condom. The both of you rode out your powerful orgasm, your moans softening as the intense feeling subsided, Hyunjin shivering with his last thrust before pulling out. 

The light sound of the air conditioner was now accompanied with heavy panting, your chest heaving as Hyunjin softly pulled down your skirt and ran his hand through his blonde hair, pushing the stray hairs away before rolling off the cumfilled condom and throwing it on the floor, the rubber landing on the dark clothing that were pooling next to the leather couch. The young boy lays down beside you, your eyes fixed on the ceiling as you faded away in a million thoughts, still trying to process what just happened. You turned your head against his, feeling his lingering gaze on your face and you swore you could hear your heart beat in your ears as his cheekbones lifted, his now cherry red lips turning into a soft smile. 

“Do you like me?” 

You choked on your own saliva, coughing and sitting up in panic making Hyunjin worry, him patting you on the back as he sat up next to you. 

“I-im sorry,, I shouldn’t have- y/n,, so-sorry”

He mutters out as you start laughing, he looking confused at your chuckling figure. 

“T-that’s,,, quite the direct question” you say, clearing your throat before continuing. “I don’t know Hyunjin. You know that this isn’t possible”

You saw his previously twinkling eyes turn blank, his heart sinking. 

“Uhm,,, n-no totally not,,, I just said it to-”

He tried to play cool, brushing off the fact that he didn’t get the answer he so longed for. His gaze turning away from your angelic face.

“But I like you”

You spoke quietly, your voice cracking at the end. Hyunjin turned back to you.

“Why wouldn’t it work then?” he asked with a confused voice. You sighed

“Hyunjin, do you not know who you are? We fucked in a building where you own half of the rights, you work with famous people and your work is in every magazine, don’t you understand?”

He stayed silent for a while, comtemplating on what to say before grabbing your clammy hand. 

“Do you only see me for my career?”

You shake your head, trying to catch eye contact with the blonde boy but failing as he stares down at your small hand in his grasp. 

“Hyunjin, I love you but this feels way to quick,,, I can’t just-”

“I’ve known about you for a while, y/n. Do you know why we even worked together in the first place?” 

Hyunjin speaks calmly, a thin string of sadness threading through his voice. You shake your head, looking at him but he looking away.

“I reached out to Bangchan first”

You weren’t surprised, only confused. What did he see in you? 

“I know it might seem,, rushed! But if- if we both like each other then we can make it work. Please don’t worry about our reputations, you are more than your career y/n even if it means the world to you.”

Hyunjin hesitated finishing his sentence, feeling sick to his stomach from the fear of rejection. You withdrew your hand, instead opening your arms and hugging him to which he smiled and hugged you back, the both of you falling back on the couch facing each other. 

“I think I love you,,, like,,, I really love you”

Hyunjin brushed away a strand of hair from your face, his tender eyes meeting yours. 

“And I love you too, y/n”

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

@vogueinnie​ @that-anxious-bisexual @putmetogetheragain13 @hyunsluvv @lawleighette​ @meow-minho @minaamhh @ohmysparkle @hwangi @rindomo @fleeingreality​​​​​​​ @nycol-ie @jisungsplatforms @p0t4t0don14ll @skzstanlol

[mosswillow]

Jumping In (Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Warnings: 18+ adult content!!, Kidnapping, smut, Dark fic, vaginal fingering, noncon/dubcon, yandere.

Summary: You submit your application to the Avengers as a joke. You’re nowhere near qualified enough for the job. So why do they want you?

AN: A big thanks to @rayofdawnworld for commenting on “Your Room” that they wanted to know about the other Avengers. This one is (obviously) Steve and is happening chronologically before “Your Room.” You can read it by itself though!  I also have a story forming for Bucky in my mind so I’ll probably do him next. 

You’ve always been the type of person to jump into things without thinking. It’s gotten you into plenty of trouble throughout your life but you’ve always managed to get yourself out of it. It’s opened up opportunities for you and taken you all over the world. You put in the application for SHIELD almost as a joke, thinking there’s no way they would ever hire you, especially not to work with the Avengers.

The joke becomes serious when you get a call from Stark Tower offering you a job. You skim over the contract eagerly and sign it immediately, jumping on the opportunity to work your dream job.

After a whirlwind week you find yourself standing in the middle of a high tech training room surrounded by Avengers. Being around a group of people as powerful as the Avengers is intimidating to say the least. The contrast between you and them is stark and you feel your confidence slip trying to keep up with them. They all assure you that you’re doing great and they’re glad to have you with them. It feels like a little family and you get pulled in immediately. You find yourself gravitating to Steve, or maybe he gravitates towards you. He shows up everywhere you go, at the water fountain filling up his bottle, running at the treadmill next to you, stretching on the mat. He watches you spar with different Avengers, giving advice and words of encouragement.

“Keep that arm up Y/N.”

“I will, thank you captain.”

“Call me Steve.”

“Steve.”  You smile.

You spar with Bucky and try to ignore Steve's looks. You don’t know if you feel flattered or uncomfortable with the attention he’s giving you. You decide that he’s probably just trying to be friendly since it’s your first day.

It doesn’t stop though and you constantly find yourself in situations with Steve. He’s in the elevator with you or walking by your room as you’re leaving. You even bump into him at the grocery store.

A week later you open your door to see Steve waiting for you just outside your room. Your heart does a flip at the sight of him standing in front of you. His hair is damp and you try to control your mind from imagining him in the shower. His tight white shirt shows off his muscles, which doesn't help your wandering mind one bit. You shift your eyes away from him and chastise yourself. God, He smells good and you wonder what soap he uses. He gives a cocky half smile and takes a step toward you.

“Good job yesterday.” He says, moving in front of your line of sight.

“Thanks.” you smile and force yourself to look him in the eyes.

He puts his hands in his pockets and rocks on his feet looking nervous.

“I thought I could treat you to coffee?”

Your heart starts beating rapidly. Is he asking you on a date? Steve Rogers asking YOU on a date? It can't be that. The flirting has to be in your head.

“I’d like that,” You mirror him, putting your hands in your pockets. You realize too late that you don’t have pockets though and end up awkwardly rubbing your hands against your sides.  Steve lets out a chuckle and you cross your arms and laugh along with him.

You follow Steve to a nearby coffee shop and he orders you a drink. The two of you sit at a semi-private table in the back next to some barely cognizant university students who are furiously typing away on their laptops.

“How are you enjoying being part of the team?” Steve asks.

“I love it! Everyone is really nice.”

“Are you nervous for your first first mission?”

“A little bit,” you confess.

“I’ll be there with you, don’t worry.”

That was definitely flirting, you think. Captain America is flirting with you.

You smile and take a sip of your coffee. This is like a romance novel, a cute coffee date with a literal super hero. It comes to an end though when you notice a kid taking a picture of the two of you. Steve frowns and cocks his head towards the prepubescent photographer.

“I think we should head back before we get more fans.” Steve Says.

Steve does a silly pose for the kid as he passes by and pulls out a signed Captain America card. The kid stands stunned looking at you as you walk out of the shop. Steve puts his hand on your back and leans in.

“Sorry this was so short. We’ll have to go somewhere more private next time.”

“Don’t apologize! The coffee was amazing, thank you so much.”

It only takes twenty minutes for you to start getting phone calls. A picture of you and Steve is all over the internet. It looks very incriminating, Steve's arm on your back and him smiling close to your ear. You answer your phone and hold it away from your ear as your friend Amy yells at you from the other end.

“Captain America!” She screams over and over again.

“Are you guys dating now or...”

“No, he was just being nice.”

“The picture looks like he’s being a lot more than nice. Please hit that Y/N, if you don’t I’ll scream.”

“You’re already screaming.” you say with a laugh.

“Seriously though, I want to be invited to your wedding one day.”

“Amy! he’s hot for sure but he’s also kinda my boss and I’m not ready for anything serious right now.” The picture of you and Steve is still in your mind. You can barely take care of yourself and certainly aren’t ready for everything involved with dating Steve Rogers.

You hang up the phone and smile to yourself. You can’t believe how your life has changed so fast. One day you’re working security at a hotel and the next you’re working with the avengers and flirting with Captain America.

---

You shake your foot nervously on the way to your first mission. Your role is simple, in fact it's almost impossible to mess up. You’re nervous anyway though. Everyone tells you it’s normal for your first mission and you take deep breaths trying to calm down.

You exit the jet and make your way into town. Your only job is to distract your mark for five minutes. You check your watch and start your way toward your mark.

“Excuse me sir?”

“Yes?”

“Do you know a good breakfast place around here?”

It’s beyond easy. You keep the conversation up for five minutes and end it quickly. Steve gives you a pat on the back after, congratulating your successful first mission. It feels off. Anyone could do what you did. You’re nowhere near as skilled as the Avengers and don’t understand why you would be picked for the job.

“What’s wrong doll?”

“I just don’t feel like I’m really good enough to be part of this team I guess.”

“You’re more than good enough.”

“But you guys are so much stronger... and faster... and smarter.”

“We look for more than those things when picking recruits. Trust me, you’re exactly what I… We need.”

You feel a little better and push away your doubts.

---

The missions become harder after the first one but you’re still never put in direct danger. They say you need more training before taking on more dangerous roles and you agree. You’re not sure if you’ll ever improve enough though and it makes you guilty, like you’re taking up space in a team that someone else could have. As you start becoming more part of the group Steve starts coming onto you more. He takes you out several times and starts becoming more physically affectionate. You like Steve. Aside from being gorgeous he’s old school, bringing you flowers and opening doors. There’s Something about him that feels disingenuous and your gut prevents you from starting a serious relationship.

You meet a barista at the same coffee shop Steve took you to. He’s cute and you  decide to give him your number impulsively. He texts you that evening and you stay up late texting back and forth. The next day everyone stares at you as you stretch before your training. You’re not sure why until you notice Steve standing outside of his office.

“Y/N, can I see you in here please.” His voice is an octave lower than usual and a chill runs down your spine.

“Of course.”

Steve closes the door and motions for you to sit down.

“I’m aware that you’ve exchanged numbers with someone who is unapproved.”

You nod slowly, confused how he knows at all and why it’s a big deal.

“This is a huge security risk.”

“I already ran a background check on him.”

Steve sits on the edge on his desk and caresses your cheek.

“Why do you want to talk to this boy when you have me?”

You push his hand away.

“I mean, I like you Steve but I’m just not ready for the commitment yet, you know that.”

His eyes narrow and he looks at the hand you pushed away.

“I understand.” He says.

You stand to leave and he calls after you.

“Oh, and remember you have a curfew. I don’t want to have to reprimand you.”

Steve feels different, unhinged. You’ve only been late a few times and only by a few minutes. You push away your worry hoping it will get better. He’s probably just not used to feeling rejected. He’ll get over it.

---

“Y/N, don’t you dare enter that building.”

“There are still people inside Steve!”

“It’s too dangerous. Help is on the way, don’t do it.”

You rip the com out of your ear and run into the building. There’s smoke everywhere and you cover your face with your arm. You make fast work of reaching the blocked room, breaking the door in and letting the room of people out. You escort them out of the building and to safety.

“Thank you so much.” A woman says, hugging you.

“No problem.” You smile.

The building starts collapsing in front of your eyes and you watch it burn. You walk back to the jet, coughing and bruised and get checked out as soon as you land.

Steve waits for you outside of medical.

“What were you thinking Agent!”

“Not now Steve.”

“It’s Captain and yes now.”

You sigh.

“I was thinking, Captain, that I needed to get those people out and I was right.”

“And what would have happened if the building had come down on you? Help was coming and you had an order. You’re lucky your lungs are ok with the smoke you inhaled.”

You push Steve out of your way and walk towards your room.

“It was a risk I was willing to take,” you call back.

You reach your room and take a long shower, thinking about everything. As much as you want to fit in with them you just don’t. Something tells you that you need to quit. You need to get out of here and never look back. you decide that you’ll hand in a two week notice tomorrow.

The next morning you wake and dress quickly still feeling the same as the night before. You head to your door and turn the knob but find it locked.

“What the fuck?” you pound on the door but nobody answers. You pick up your phone to call for help. It won’t connect to the internet or call anyone. Your computer is the same way. As the day passes you start feeling more and more uneasy. They have to know by now that something is wrong with you. your voice is raw from yelling for help and your hands bloody and bruised from pounding on the door.

Finally, hours later you hear the click of your door unlocking. You open it to see Steve standing with his arms crossed on the other side.

“I was locked in my room.” you say in a quiet voice.

“I know, I locked you in.”

“What’s wrong with you? That’s insane Steve!”

Adrenaline rushes through your body and you start pacing. Everything is telling you to get out. This is not what you signed up for.

“I quit.” you say defiantly.

Steve rushes toward you, pinning you to the wall. None of your self defence training helps you. He’s so much bigger and stronger, trying to fight is a joke. You know your best bet is to stun him somehow and run but you can barely move.

“You can’t quit doll.” He brushes a hand down your body, giving your butt a squeeze. Your eyes widen in shock.

“I’ll report you.”

“To who?”

You start thinking, your eyes darting back and forth. He slides his hand into the front of your pants and rubs the bulge in his pants against you. your breath hitches and you relax your body a bit. You scream at yourself to do something. The hand in your pants rubs against your clit expertly and it takes everything you have not to let out a moan.

“Ah, I see you’re getting it.”

His finger slides to your entrance and he prods you before submerging his finger. You gasp at the intrusion and realize that he’s barely holding onto you anymore. Your hands grasp his shoulders and you lean against him.

“This would have been much easier if you had followed my plan. You had to go putting yourself in danger.” He chides.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please you’re scaring me Steve.” you say,

“It was going so well but you’re unpredictable, flirting with that barista.”

He pushes his finger in deeper and you whimper.

“If I don’t take action now I might lose you and I can’t lose you.”

“Get away from me,” you beg.

He grasps your hip painful tight.

“You're my girl now, ok? My girl doesn’t disobey me, especially not on missions.”

He pumps his finger, coating it with slick.

You realize that he won’t listen to reason but you try anyway.

“I’m so sorry you’re right I’m your… your girl, just let me go please.”

He pulls his finger out and gives you a kiss.

“See, there’s a good girl.”

He pulls a ring out of his pocket and places it on your finger. His watch vibrates and he looks at it before kissing you on the cheek.

“We can celebrate tomorrow.” He winks.

He leaves you in the hallway and you back into your room, shaking and crying.  You don’t care if he locks you in again. You need to be in a place where you feel somewhat safe and can process everything that just happened. You take the ring off and throw it across the room.

The night is spent curled in your bed crying and the next morning you walk self consciously to the kitchen. Bucky sits at the counter eating cereal and he knits his brow when he sees you.

“Hey, what’s wrong.”

You shake your head.

“You can tell me.” He looks at you with his big kind eyes and you decide to confide in him.

“Steve… assaulted me. He’s out of his mind, saying all sorts of crazy stuff. I don’t know what to do.”

Bucky holds you close.

“You’re his girl Y/N, don’t provoke him and you’ll have a good life.”

You tear yourself away and look at him with disbelief.

“It’s not a secret Y/N and we’re on Steve's side.”

You back away and head straight for the exit hitting Tony on the way

“Woah, what’s the rush?”

“I quit.” you say, tears starting to fall.

“You can’t quit princess, you’re Steve’s.”

Your breaths become shallow and your head starts feeling light.

“How did you think you got the job in the first place Y/N?”

You run to the elevator slamming the button over and over but it won’t let you down.

“What’s wrong with Y/N?” Thor walks over.

“She’s having a hard time adjusting to being Steve’s,” Tony answers.

“Let me out.” you yell.

Steve comes out of nowhere catching you in his arms and you throw your head back and duck. He stumbles back. Other Avengers start to gather and you pull your fists up in defense.

“I want to leave.”

“Come with me back to your room doll, it doesn’t have to be this hard.”

You stand your ground and Steve goes into a fighting stance. You don’t even have a chance, he has you trapped in his arms within minutes.

“I don’t understand.”

“We got your application in the mail. As soon as I saw your picture I knew you were the one I’ve been looking for.” he coos.

“Why go through the whole facade?”

“Use your brain Y/N. Everyone knows we’re together. There’s pictures of us everywhere online. You’ve talked to friends and family about our relationship. It won’t look weird when you drop off for a while because of your job and when you come back engaged nobody will blink an eye.”

“No.”

You look at the Avengers, you’re family. None of them do anything to help you. Every single one turns their back and walks away nonchalantly like it’s just another normal day.

Steve drags you to your room and closes the door. He walks over to where you threw your ring grabbing it off the floor, and places it back on your finger.

“This doesn’t come off again,” He says.

You look at the ring and back at Steve over and over trying to make sense of all of it. Steve walks purposefully to the drawer you keep your candles and lights several, placing them around the room.

He backs you into the bed and undresses you slowly and meticulously. He sits back and looks at your naked body, taking his time touching and examining every piece. He grabs your legs and parts them, looking at your pussy and two fingers in.

“So wet for me already.”

You shake your head and he lands a slap on your thigh.

“No.” He commands.

“Be good so I don’t have to punish you. You’ve seen me work, you know what I’m capable of.”

You bite your tongue and force yourself to lie still as he slams his cock into you. You cry out in pain and he rubs your arm and whispers sweet things. He kisses you as he pushes his cock deep into you. He grabs your chin and squeezes until you open up and let his tongue in.  you reach out and grab his arms and he pulls at your leg until you hug them around him.

“You can come Y/N.” he whispers

You shake your head.

He reaches between you and pushes against your clit. You fight against it for as long as you can but it becomes too much. An orgasm crashes over you and you flutter around his cock. He thrusts hard enough that you get pushed into the headboard and seconds later he’s coming in you. He smiles down at you, lovingly stroking you face.

“I love you Y/N”

You stay silent and he pulls you into a constricting hug.

“Don’t worry doll, you’ll love me soon.”  

You’ve always been the type of person to jump into things without thinking. It’s gotten you into plenty of trouble throughout your life. You’ve always been able to get yourself out of it,

but this time.

This time you jumped too far.

[iztopher]

hi. at this point it may be evident what i'm about to say. but for that ask meme: ALL OF THE QUESTIONS

JHFDASK YESSSS okay here we go!!!

1. Art programs you have but don't use: Clip Studio Paint!! I pretty much ONLY use it for the grid and text feature, otherwise I don't like the workflow haha

2. Is it easier to draw someone facing left or right (or forward even): Drawing in profile is the same to me from either direction, but for 3/4 view, I naturally gravitate towards / find it easier to draw people facing left

3. What ideas come from when you were little: Since I've been into Aveyond for so long, and that's what I mostly draw, I have a lot of ideas that pretty much originated as "I wanted to draw this as a kid and didn't have the skill to"!

4. Fav character/subject that's a bitch to draw: Te'ijal and also Galahad. it's the hair.

5. Estimate of how much of your art you post online vs. the art you keep for yourself: Finished art I'd say I share a good 90% of it! Once we get into sketches... hoo boy, maybe 40%?

6. Anything that might inspire you subconsciously (i.e. this horse wasn't supposed to look like the Last Unicorn but I see it): Whatever this is, it's either too specific to the piece or too subconscious for me to think of it

7. A medium of art you don't work in but appreciate: traditional illustration, painting, watercolor...

8. What's an old project idea that you've lost interest in: A heads up that my answer to this is sad but I'm trying to talk about this type of stuff relatively openly, so: spring 2021, I watched Willy's Wonderland for the first time w/ Ishti + Moonie; we kept talking about a Galahad & Mel AU for it. I had two pictures for it planned, and I drew one of them, and... the timing worked out where Moonie never got to see it, and I've lost the motivation to do the second one. But I like the first one and I'm glad I drew it and I take some comfort/peace in the fact that I was working on something I was excited to share with her at the time.

9. What are your file name conventions: I have a folder for all my art, a subfolder for every year, and then a subfolder for every month, which means there isn't that much overlap! so unless I have a funny title idea my file name conventions are generally pretty straightforward: "mella1.sai", "teijalahad.sai", "teijalstudy.sai" etc etc

10. Favorite piece of clothing to draw: Does armor count? If not, gambesons.

11. Do you listen to anything while drawing? If so, what: Yes!!! Pretty much always music, occasionally video essays. Usually I'll pick a song and play it on loop, or if I'm in the mood for more variety I'll pick a playlist or an artist and listen through that. I also really like drawing while on call with people.

12. Easiest part of body to draw: I'm so sorry for my answer. Boobs.

13. A creator who you admire but whose work isn't your thing: I'm not sure I have an answer for this one, actually - there's a lot of artists I like the work of who I wouldn't want to emulate, but that feels different to me?

14. Any favorite motifs: Not really, in theory I really love flowers but I almost never draw them

15. *Where* do you draw (don't drop your ip address this just means do you doodle at a park or smth): I used to draw pretty much everywhere, but post chronic pain it's my desk only because using a tablet hurts wayyy less than a sketchbook!

16. Something you are good at but don't really have fun doing: Landscapes / natural areas from photographs lol

17. Do you eat/drink when drawing? if so, what: Water ALL the time, coffee if it lines up properly

18. An estimate of how much art supplies you've broken: Very few!! Probably less than 10. I mostly draw digitally

19. Favorite inanimate objects to draw (food, nature, etc.): ARMOR AND WEAPONS

20. Something everyone else finds hard to draw but you enjoy: Hands and armor!

21. Art styles nothing like your own but you like anyways: Honestly the art styles unlike mine that I like tend to be ones... I wish I had... I'm really drawn to realistic, somber, softer stuff

22. What physical exercises do you do before drawing, if any: Tendon gliding exercises! Tbh I should start doing more, it might help

23. Do you use different layer modes: VERY rarely, mostly not

24. Do your references include stock images: Yessss

25. Something your art has been compared to that you were NOT inspired by: I KNOW this has happened but I'm totally blanking on it

26. What's a piece that got a wildly different interpretation from what you intended: I'm not sure if this counts but pretty much any time I get a "cute!" response on a te'ijalahad picture I'm like oh no please do not say that,

27. Do you warm up before getting to the good stuff? If so, what is it you draw to warm up with: I tend to warm up by drawing a headshot of the character I'm going to be drawing, but lately I've been trying to shift to warm ups that are more focused on like, the action of drawing and loosening up

28. Any art events you have participated in the past (like zines): I participated in a zine that ended up not happening, and I've done several fandom exchanges!! Mostly the Aveyond Winter Exchange, but also the Oneshot Podcast Network exchange on AO3 (yeah it was AO3 but I did art for it)

29. Media you love, but doesn't inspire you artistically: Infinity Train!!! absolutely adore it, the art style doesn't really inspire me at all & because I got into it in the thick of my hand pain I never got used to drawing it

30. What piece of yours do you think is underrated: None! I mostly draw Aveyond so pretty much all of my art is in the 1-10 response zone so it all feels pretty consistent gdjkgklsdf

[nopefun]

Interview #493: Chris Mann

q: Give a short introduction about yourself: a: I’m a photographer from South Yorkshire in the North of England, currently living in London.

q: You work almost exclusively with black and white 35mm film, darkroom processing and silver gelatin prints. Why do you use this process? a: I’m hugely drawn to the tactility of it all. Working with film, paper and importantly, light, continues to offer me a heightened experience and understanding of how I make images. It just feels more authentic for me. Like many others working in the same way, I fell in love with the meditative time in the darkroom; stepping away from the glowing screen and slowing the process down. It can be time consuming, but it’s in this slowing down that I’ve built a strong attachment to my work and continue to define where I want to go with it.

q: I liked how you describe your work as confining your "photographs to graphic elements that trigger curiosity and stimulate the viewer's imagination". What is the reason behind this? Do you see it as a form of detachment from you as an individual? a: A big turning point for me was discovering that a photograph could do more than just duplicate a moment in reality as the eye sees it. Photography is by its very nature an act of elimination, and I’ve found myself gravitating towards the work of artists, filmmakers and photographers who take this concept one step further in their work; embracing a lack of dialogue and context, calling on the individual viewers’ own top-down processing to ‘fill in the blanks’. It’s for this same reason that I work predominantly with black and white, avoiding any presuppositions that colour might convey. I’m drawn to enigmatic images and want to make photographs that kind of have an agency of their own, and a ‘meaning’ or interpretation that varies from viewer to viewer.  

With regards to your question about individual detachment, I’d say it’s more about detachment from the specific subject or event. I’m equally concerned with image-making as I am photo-taking; creating work that isn’t necessarily about documenting a specific moment of time in my life.

q: You mention you are interested in open ended images and photography as a way to subtract from reality. Would you say you prioritize aesthetics over subject matter? a: I’m ultimately looking for ambiguity, regardless of whether this is achieved through subject matter or aesthetics. Aesthetically I tend to lean towards chiaroscuro, however I wouldn’t say that I prioritise this over subject matter. On many occasions, it’s been following this aesthetic that has actually led me to certain images, with light and shadow transforming subjects that otherwise wouldn’t grab my attention. On the other hand, if the subject matter is strong enough, then the light may not be my main concern. The two go somewhat loosely hand in hand for me.

q: For me, abstract photos work as a way to decontextualise moments of beauty from their environment, which relates to the idea of timelessness. Is this important for you in your practice?   a: I believe timelessness can occur as a side effect of decontextualization and detachment from the subject. I’m mindful of how much context my images reveal, and I consider it a bit of a balancing act between information that may or may not render the image as ‘timeless’. Shooting in cities makes this specifically challenging for me, with signs of the times everywhere and endless possibilities to remove specific elements from the frame.

q: Upcoming projects? a: I had a couple of projects lined up in 2020 involving travelling that, thanks to the obvious, never happened. This has actually been a blessing in disguise for me, affirming the importance of my making images in a non-linear fashion. This year I’m looking forward to getting stuck into shooting, printing more work in the darkroom, travelling (hopefully), and seeing where it all takes me.    

q: Any music to recommend? a: Recently I’ve had Krakow Loves Adana, Angelo de Augustine, and Mark Kozelek on repeat. Todd Ritondaro’s ‘Frame & Sequence’ podcast also never fails to deliver inspiration.

his website and Instagram.

Get more updates on our Facebook page and Instagram.

[knowltonsrangers]

Alphabet: Baker

[a/n: OOF this is a long one! A quick fyi, I’ve got a couple requests I’m working on right now :) but life has been so hectic lately and I’m so sorry I haven’t been around! If y’all want, my inbox is open for this fluff alphabet! Just send me a couple letters & a person 💓]

Ensign (Thomas) Baker x reader

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Thomas is.. shy, for lack of a better term. In the beginning of your relationship, it’d be soft touches, hand holding and an arm around your shoulders. Although, he shows affection in many ways, not only by touch. The smiles he sends your way are enough to melt you right there.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Oh oh oh! he would be like the definition of a genuine, best friend. You know he has your back and will stand by you regardless of the outcome. Thomas is a ride or die, for sure! And on how the friendship would start.. I’d have to say how it was I met my best friend. Imagine just working your job with him, just working shift after shift with him, and getting to laugh out loud with him for hours. The friendship would for sure begin on terms of similarities and small talk.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Omg yes! Thomas’ characterization just radiates purity and softness. He would absolutely love to cuddle, and often is the big spoon, but is never opposed to being the little spoon. And on some bad days, you know that he just wants to be held. Cuddling ranges from burrowing into the others sides on the couch, to hugging from behind in bed.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

YES. We can see in TURN that Thomas yearns for love, and that if he’s found it, he’s yours forever. He’d definitely want to settle down, if you were up for it.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

I don’t really ever see Thomas being the one to break things off unless it was a situation where he either felt he had to remove himself, or he thought something was by his doing. But, if he had to, he’d do it in person and it wouldn’t be like dropping a big bomb. You’d know, and he would never lead you on in a different direction.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Commitment is 100%! But slow on the marriage part. Of course he wants to marry you, and spend the rest of your lives together! He just isn’t the one to propose after one or two years. Give him some time. However, y’all talk about marriage a lot. It’s not something he’s afraid of, it’s something he just wants to cherish and not rush.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

For his like, extremely intimidating height, he is like the gentlest person. Ever. He’s got calloused hands, sure, but he’s always hesitant that what he’s about to do will upset you in some way. Like he says to Mary, “there is love here, because I know what it’s absence feels like” (I’m paraphrasing pls forgive me) he is so gentle with his actions because he wants to show the love he has for you and that is it, bottom line.

Emotionally.. he’s also the gentlest. He is a shoulder to cry on, a never moving pillar of support. And while you do not have to pry his feelings out of him with a crowbar, you do have to do some coaxing. He never wants to feel like a burden. Pls tell him he’s the best and that he’s never a burden.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

GUESS WHAT. You lucked out in the hug department! #1 form of affection FR! He does the thing where he’ll hug you from behind & drops his chin on the top of your head. He loves to give hugs, but when you give him hugs... he melts. Wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze him. Tell him how pretty he is. Hugs from Thomas feel like a million bucks, with a tray of never ending affection.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Takes him a bit. If y’all met in April, started dating in September, he might just save it for Valentines Day because he’s cheesy. But, sometimes more intimate and emotional moments catch him off guard and he finds himself mumbling it to you. When you’re not around, he says it so casually you’d think he’s told you already. “(y/n)? They’re the best, I love them.”

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

About 25%. He never saw himself as ‘good enough’ (his terrible childhood gave him that horrible impression) so in moments of insecurity he has tiny doubts. But it never lasts for long, because jealousy can’t ever stick in his mind for long. Once you’ve both committed to the relationship? All doubts fly out the window. His bouts of jealousy never last long because he trusts you.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

OH. MY. GOODNESS-

His kisses are like,,, spectacular?? Fantastic??? Amazing!??!? Hardly a word to describe ‘em. He’ll kiss you just about everywhere in private, but in public it’s mild. Leans down and presses his nose to your temple, and then plants the softest kiss on your cheek.

Thomas.. loves to be kisses on the nose.

HEAR ME OUT FOR JUST ONE SEC..

Can you imagine just starting to boop his nose, just to be funny. Mainly cause when he looks down at you it’s funny to reach up and boop his nose.

And then, when y’all are on the couch, just sitting and chillin, you reach up and kiss the tip of his nose.

He gets weak in the knees every time.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He’s the absolute best! Thomas gets down on his knees and will chat along with little children. Have a baby niece or nephew? He’s still as a statue holding them, but they always fall asleep in his arms every time. He is the best around children, because he’s used to being surrounded by them. Being raised in an orphanage taught him to have the patience of a saint. Children just gravitate towards him, because he radiates kindness.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Thomas is early to bed and early to rise. He prides himself on a good nights sleep to have a good day. When he sleeps in past his alarms, something is bothering him.

But on the topic of how mornings are spent.. they are full of drowsy kisses and breakfast being made and eaten together. The kitchen is the heart of the household, and that’s why mornings are so meaningful.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

While never opposed to a nice dinner or outdoors date, many nights are spent together binging tv shows and movies. (Especially during quarantine!) I’ve mentioned this before, but I HC Thomas to be a huge horror/slasher movie fan. If that isn’t your thing, don’t worry! Thomas loves all genres. Sappy rom coms, comedy, action, adventure-your pick is perfectly fine with him! He just enjoys your company, and if date night is a movie and take-out, he’s over the moon about it!

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It doesn’t take too long, per se. Many things he is open about, not knowing his mother, being raised in an orphanage.. he’ll tell you these things when your relationship starts, not extremely fast. But fairly quick. Other things about his life, that’s a whole other ball park. Getting him to open up is a bit harder, but not impossible.  

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

It would take a really low blow to anger Thomas. I really don’t have much to say on this one. Because although he can get angry, he try’s hard to be passive in most arguments. He doesn’t want to ruin anything, so if it’s a silly argument, he’ll find a compromise. If it’s more serious, he usually announces he needs time to think, and he’ll slip away to do some.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Yes yes!! You will tell him your shoe size ONCE and he will remember it forever! Swear he has photographic memory. He’s so good at birthdays, anniversaries, holidays-all these little facts you share about yourself are all stored in a part of Thomas’ brain.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

When you told him you loved him back. Yes, he’s said it to you, but you saying it back? Or whomever says it first, maybe it’s you. Doesn’t matter, because either way hearing those three words come out of your mouth is enough to send his heart into his throat. The feeling of being loved is so overwhelming. He will always use that memory as a crutch in hard times, because you both felt so vulnerable to the world yet full of absolute hope.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Not overprotective at all. He’s not overbearing, but of course if someone was being degrading or negative towards you, he wouldn’t hesitate to defend you. If you can defend yourself, he’s behind you silently cheering you on.

Like mentioned before, Thomas is a rather intimidating man apon first glance. Although he has never picked any fights, he’s had to dodge a few. If you defended him, he’d feel his heart swell. “(y/n), it’s okay, really,”

But he’d never forget it, ever.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

About 200% and then some. He is a SWEETIE and wants to show how much he loves you!

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Doubting. Can ruin his own day with the clouds of doubt and rampaging thoughts that take over his mind. He’s gotten much better at it, but he needs some guidance every once in a while. Be his light at the end of the tunnel, guide him home!

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Basically at a 0% concern. He’s always considered himself average looking (and you disagree with him on that all day long!) he dresses like any man of the time, and looks absolutely handsome all the time. Call him pretty all you like, because it makes him blush. He’s not changing how he looks to impress you, because you’ve made it abundantly clear you love him just the way he is.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Oh, yes. If you were ever away from him, no matter the reason, he’d feel like a piece of his heart was missing. You’re his other half, he needs you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He loves everything about the wintertime, but his favorite has to be when you steal his jackets and hoodies. He finds it so endearing and downright cute.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Lying and dishonesty.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He’s an early riser, but he’s a bit guilty of reading before bed and when he wakes up.

Although, when you both share a bed, he’s curling himself around you. He can’t sleep any other way.

[lastsonlost]

A woman says she was sexually harassed by presumptive Democratic Party presidential nominee Joe Biden when she was 14 years old.

The woman, Eva Murry, told Law&Crime that Biden complimented her on the size of her breasts at the First State Gridiron Dinner & Show in 2008, a long-running roast of and party for politicians, journalists and prominent business figures held each year in Delaware. Murry says she remembers the event occurring sometime around May of that year.

One friend and her sister said that Murry told her details of the alleged incident more or less immediately after it happened. Four other friends of Murry’s said they were told about the incident, with the same details, between two and three years after it originally occurred.

Law&Crime interviewed Murry, her sister, and those friends over the course of multiple days. Murry is the niece of former Republican Senate candidate Christine O’Donnell and said she occasionally received school credit for attending such political events. O’Donnell was running a long-shot campaign against Biden at the time that the alleged sexual harassment incident occurred.

The Biden campaign did not immediately respond to a request for comment. Biden is currently under fire over allegations that he sexually assaulted former Senate staffer Tara Reade in 1993 by penetrating her with his fingers without her consent. Biden’s campaign has denied it and Biden went on MSNBC Friday morning to strongly refute that allegation himself.

According to Gridiron Dinner Secretary Cathy Klocko, the roast is held the first Saturday of every May, which would place the 2008 event on May 3 of that year. Klocko went on to note that until recently the event was secretive and did not release information such as guest lists or photographs of the event.

“I remember walking into the lobby and being in awe of all the people in such fancy clothes,” Murry said in an interview. “Our two parties of people gravitated towards each other and everyone started saying their hellos. When it was Biden and my aunt’s turn to say hello he quickly turned to me and asked how old I was. I replied with my age and he replied with the comment ‘Fourteen? You’re very well endowed for 14!’ I was confused but it was definitely weird, he looked me up and down and hovered his eyes on my chest so I had some clue [about] the notion of his comment but didn’t fully understand at the time. We quickly separated from his area after the encounter.”

Murry, who is 26 now and engaged with a son and daughter, was in middle school at the time Biden allegedly made the comments about her breasts. She said that she attended a few additional campaign events with her aunt after Biden made the alleged remarks and she described being anxious and feeling sick to her stomach around him or upon learning that he would also be attending any such future events.

“I feel his comments were verbal sexual harassment,” Murry told Law&Crime. “I think I was too naive to realize exactly what it meant at the time but I vividly remember the uncomfortable feeling I had in the pit of my stomach during the whole encounter. It wasn’t Biden’s words alone that made me so uncomfortable, it was the look, the tone, the whole general vibe was off.”

Murry acknowledged the timing of her allegation would likely invite accusations that she was acting politically but she insisted that was not the case.

Murry said that she was personally motivated to speak out because she began seeing Biden’s name and face appearing all over Facebook in early April after Bernie Sanders dropped out of the Democratic primary. She said that many of her friends started posting about voting for Biden. So, Murry started off by telling each of those friends her story. She says she did this over and over.

“It got overwhelming repeating myself on everyone’s post,” she said. “So I made a master thread with the intentions of informing my friends and family who I care very much about, just what kind of man Biden is.”

Murry told Law&Crime she was upset about what Biden said to her rather than anything having to do with his politics.

“No man or woman should get away with acting that way and that is what this boils down to,” she said.

Four of Murry’s friends say that they were told about the incident. One said she was told about it around the time it happened. Two more said they were told about it in 2010. Three of those friends agreed to speak on the record.

“She was telling me about the event and explained what happened,” Murry’s friend Victoria Anstey told Law&Crime. “I remember being so shocked. I didn’t know who Biden was or anything. Just [that] she said he was an ‘older man’ was enough for me to not like the situation.”

Law&Crime verified Murry’s and Anstey’s identities by obtaining their driver’s licenses.

“Eva is telling the truth,” she added.

Anstey, 25, describes herself as a feminist, animal lover and a Democrat. She confirmed that Murry told her about the comments in 2008 when they were both teens. Anstey said Murry identified the man as Biden and said that hearing about the incident left her feeling angry.

“She told me he looked at her chest and she was well endowed,” Anstey said. “She looked very uncomfortable. I asked how old he was. She said like an older man. I said like old like a teacher or elderly and she said old like a teacher. I remember myself getting mad.”

Anstey also commented on the political dimensions of Murry’s allegation.

“I can’t stand Trump,” she said. “This isn’t politically motivated. This is about men in power using their status to silence victims.”

“She was 14 and any man to think that those comments are appropriate are on the wrong side of history,” Anstey continued. “We can’t let men (and females) keep getting away with these sexual comments. It’s past due that society stop turning a blind eye. People seem to only care when it’s someone they know, which is ridiculous. I want the next president to be a Democrat more than anyone but I can’t overlook this. It’s not justice for 14-year-old Eva. It would be doing her a disservice.”

A second friend, Katielynn Weaver, told Law&Crime that Murry first told her about it “over ten years ago when we were younger.”

“I started going to Delaware with her and her family so it was pretty fresh for her dealing with it,” Weaver said.

“The year was 2010 because I was 17 and just graduated and got my first car and that’s what we would take back and forth trips to Delaware,” she told Law&Crime. “The incident happened before I met Eva but she told me about it prior to our first time arriving in Delaware.”

Eva Murry’s older sister, Jenna Murry, also says she was told about the alleged incident “within a week or so of the dinner.”

The elder Murry said she previously had “a similar arrangement” with O’Donnell, “going around with her to political events” when she was also 14. Jenna said she kept up with Eva though the two didn’t talk much at the time because she was attending The College of New Jersey (TCNJ).

“I remember my mom mentioning at some point soon after that that Eva had met Biden and he’d made a weird comment,” Murry told Law&Crime. “The next time I was home from TCNJ Eva told me about the comment in detail from her perspective, specifically that he looked her up and down and stared right at her chest and made her feel really uncomfortable. I remember being really pissed off on her behalf and thinking that she was probably more upset than she was letting on and trying to be light hearted by that point, but seemed shook. I told basically all my friends about it at the time.”

Aileen Callaghan, another friend, said she first heard about the incident when she and Murry were teenagers. “It was probably 2010 when she told me,” she told Law&Crime. “She mentioned that he was at an event she was with with her aunt and that he was a creep and was looking at her chest the whole time.”

“I remember she said that Biden was a pervy old man, and was like laughing but looking down when she told us,” Callaghan continued. “When she got to the details, she was clearly pissed that it had happened, and clearly hadn’t known how to do anything about it.”

A fourth friend said that Murry told her about the alleged sexual harassment incident in 2010 or 2011 when both attended high school at the New Hope Academy in Yardley, Pennsylvania. The friend recalled Murry telling her Biden had made the comment about her body and that the two had nervously described the incident as “creepy” and wrong. The fourth friend spoke to Law&Crime on the condition of anonymity to protect her safety and career.

Murry originally detailed her accusations in a Facebook post on April 8.

“Back then I didn’t know the meaning of this” she wrote about Biden’s alleged comments. “[F]or those of you that still don’t [know], it means Biden was telling me I had very large breasts for a 14-year-old. I learned shortly after what he meant and felt uncomfortable every time I met him afterwards.

Several additional friends of Murry’s commented on the post noting that they recalled hearing about the incident and said Murry was courageous for speaking out. Attempts to reach one of those additional friends by Law&Crime were unsuccessful at the time of publication.

Murry addressed the support she received for speaking out in a later comment on the thread to that initial post.

“I’ve told friends [and] family for years but I’ve never publicly put it out there,” Murry wrote. “I vividly remember the anxiety I would feel going to these types of functions after that encounter, it sucked the excitement right out of it for me.”

“I’m worried about the internet bullies so I never put it out there but I went on to Facebook after putting my daughter down for a nap and Joe Biden’s name was everywhere!”  she continued–describing the events of early April. “I had to say something.”

Murry also noted that she encountered Biden “about three times after that” at similar such events and that “his eyes never were on my face.”

Can this nigga just keep his hands to himself for one second?

[noahiish]

     hellooooooo, my dudes !! i’m oliver and this is noah. i swear his majors make sense just read the intro...

「 gregg sulkin. male. he/him. 」 i hope that #lexsquad member 「 NOAH ARCHER 」 adds me to the squad ! the 「 TWENTY-ONE 」 year old 「 FINE ART & ANATOMY 」 major has been apart of the squad since 「 OCTOBER 2019 」 and seems to be the 「 WALLFLOWER 」 of the group. 「 NOAH 」 is a 「 JUNIOR 」 and seems to enjoy 「 SKETCHING 」 but you can always find them at a squad party , too ! 「 oliver. they/them. 21. est. 」 -- kie's wc !

ABOUT

– born in a suburb of nyc to a pretty normal middle class family. one brother two years older than him and his parents. he had your typical childhood, just your typical bumps that come with puberty and growing up.

– he grew up sketching a lot bc he spent a lot of time following his parents around and doing a lot of waiting and reading was too boring... and frankly… was not that good at it. but he kept at it and it developed into a pretty Big Talent !! he started gravitating toward people eventually, finding it challenging and full-filling. soon it was more strange to find noah without a sketchbook than with one.

– didn’t really know what he wanted to do as he neared the end of high school tbh. art was the only thing he was good at --- that and pole vaulting lol. actually he went to lex bc they offered him an athletic scholarship. so he went to lex for that, decided to major in fine arts while he was there ; luckily had supper supportive parents that let him LOL ( the scholarship probs helped a little in that regard ). learned a lot about painting, acrylic and oil, though sketching and drawing remained his first love. he took to the bustling street, sitting in cafes and sketching anyone and everyone ( in a non-creepy way, he promises ).

– middle of his sophomore year, his friend met this super hot guy at a bar but never got his name or anything. and well… that’s where the story really starts. noah figured hey, why not give it a try and that was his first time sketching from a description. and it turned out pretty spot on.

– from there, things spiraled out of control. parent of a friend of a friend heard some things and next thing he knew, he was shadowing a forensic artist at the nypd the next summer and adding a second major in anatomy. so yeah, that was a twist he didn’t see life throwing at him. but he’s surprisingly happy with the new direction, thinks it can really take him somewhere maybe. who knows.

USELESS FACTS

– he still has a sketchbook with him like… always. carries this worn leather messenger bag to hold it and all the pencils and charcoal he’ll ever need in addition to his backpack bc u gotta protect the real goods. definitely still in the habit of sitting in cafe and drawing random people. it keeps his skills sharp. sometimes has friends drill exercises with him where they describe a random person in like a stock photo to him. he thinks it’s fun…

– he paints too !! but those are like,,,, rarely ever finished unless they’re for class. he runs out of motivation too fast. his apt probs like half-finished canvases of every size just… everywhere. like i said, classwork and freelance is one thing — but all his independent projects lmao ???? like never finished. ever. king.

– uh. yeah sports. he does track n field ( pole vault is like his Thing ). rest of the year he just keeps himself in shape. running, gym, the works.

– has a little freelance business !! mostly just short sketching commissions bc what college student has money to spend on that lmao. business probably picks up around christmas and valentines day tbh.

– near photographic memory tbh… helps with all those anatomy classes tho.

– kie’s secret ex. probably still sad abt it. probably has a full sketchbook filled with him too. still the person he can draw easiest from memory. what can i say.

– his older brother plays in the nhl. that’s not really relevant at all but i’m including it anyway. he probs plays for the ducks so he’s close-ish. noah goes to his games occasionally.

PERSONALITY

noah’s just like.... pretty unassuming ? he does tend to stick more to himself than get into the thick of things, hence his label. he’s got an artist’s eye though : acutely observant, not much slips past him, probably could be a detective... lowkey his parents think he should’ve used that intellect for something that wasn’t art lbr. doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to have fun, just tends to hang back first. prefers to be in full control of his faculties so getting him drunk is a rarity. absolutely the friend that would dd. he tries his best to be kind and to let people make their own impressions on him. but like ? double-edged sword too ? he also doesn’t really care if you’re popular or whatever. he’s also a good listener and has been told he’s a reassuring presence ??? people tend to want to talk to him and find him giving off those like Trustworthy vibes, y’know ???

[britthulspas]

#17 Visit an art exhibition. Document the exhibition and choose one work to expand on. Write why you chose to visit that exhibition and what made you gravitate towards your chosen artwork. Be creative in the way you use documentation and text.

BEER & TEDDY

I went to the photography museum. I love photography, I photograph a lot myself. I never go to a photo exhibition myself, so I thought it would be nice to go here now.

When I walked in I was first pleasantly surprised by the photo collection of William Wegman. Photos of dogs in a human setting, but as I walked on I saw the photo collection of Helena van der Kraan “BEER & TEDDY”. This really appealed to me. The bears were photographed pretty scary.

I used to have a teddy bear myself and this was actually your best friend, you took your teddy bear everywhere. In the pictures you can see very clearly that these bears really have an emotion. As if they adopted their owner's behavior. I drew the teddy bears.

I have drawn the emotions very clearly. I also had the drawings burned down. Because the bears in the pictures are very old and distorted. So fire gave this effect a bit on my drawings.

[silver-greedling]

The View in Altissia

Prompto Argentum x Reader (aka the babiest boi) idk if trigger warnings are totally necessary, but brief mentions of blood, other than that, it's just long and i use italics a lot hng

"We're going sightseeing," the girl told her twin brother Noctis after he ignore her the first time. "You guys can come with, if you want."

Unbeknownst to her, Prompto gave the other guys a look, and they all inwardly sighed.

"I'm going to be working on a new recipe," Ignis informed them. "Perhaps another time, princess."

"I'll be asleep," Noctis added, rolling onto his side in the bed. "Count me out."

"And I'm gonna be helpin' Iggy," Gladio finished, standing from his spot. "Smell ya' later." He gave her a playful punch on the arm, and she smiled and rolled her eyes.

"I guess we'll be off, then," she said. "Bye! We'll be back before too long."

Her hand found Prompto's, and she gleefully pulled him out of the expensive hotel room, clambering down the stairs with him laughing and following closely. The city of Altissia was absolutely something to be amazed by, and she was. The way the water gleamed and how the sun seemed to shine even brighter off of the water. Not to mention the architecture was insane! It felt like an entirely different world from Lucis.

"Check this out!" the princess enthused, pulling something from mher backpack. She scrounged inside for a little map she had gotten when they entered the city. "This map has a bunch of good photo spots marked on it! We should check them out."

With a little smile, Prompto nodded in agreement, and they set off on their own little scavenger hunt. The map was a little confusing, but they managed to find most spots without too much of a hassle.

"Oh, you can see the entrance from here," Prompto gushed, picking up his camera and angling himself to get a perfect shot. With a moment's time, his camera went off, and he showed the photo to her. It was of the large, man-made path leading into the city, the same one that we had entered on.

"You're amazing at this," she told him. He pulled back and rubbed the back of his neck shyly.

"I don't know...uh, thank you," he muttered. His cheeks were a bit flush, but she paid it no mind.

"C'mon, it's getting late, and we still have a few spots!"

So they spent the rest of their day covering the rest of the city, taking what felt like a million pictures. At some points, the girl had snatched the photographer's camera and taken a few photos of her own, most of which had been cute candids of Prompto. She made sure to save her favorite pictures of him.

"It's really late," she sighed, glancing at the setting sun, "and we've covered all of the photo spots in the city. We should head back."

Prompto took her hand in his as she turned to step away. "I-I know one more place," he informed her. "This is actually a perfect time to go. Can we spare a little extra time?"

A smile made its home on her lips as she nodded. "Of course, lead the way."

He tightened his grip on her hand a little bit, before purposefully walking with her through the city. It almost seemed like he memorized the path, making quick turns and not once asking directions or using a map.

They found themselves walking up a long flight of stairs that the girl halfway recognized. "This...leads to the gondola for the stadium, right?"

"Yeah, it does," he affirmed. "I hear it's the tallest point in the city, which means it must be a great place to view the sunset, don't you think?"

"Sounds like it."

Once they reached the top, she verbally noted the absence of the gondola worker, and Prompto replied that the gondolas didn't run after a certain time of day. Satisfied with the answer, she took a seat at the little table, looking into the sunset. Prompto pulled a chair next to her, gazing into the distance.

After a few seconds, he reached for his camera, but she held her hand out. "Some things are better as just a memory," she smiled, looking over to him. "Photos are great, but nothing could ever beat living in the moment and remembering it, y'know?"

He set his camera down on the table, and she took his hand before it could move away. He seemed taken aback, but his fingers quickly wrapped around her own hand softly.

"Thank you for spending time with me today." Her thumb rubbed the back of his hand slowly. "It was super fun, and I'm glad, of all the guys, I got to go with you."

"Why me?" he blurted out, before his eyes went wide, as if realizing what he'd said. "I-I mean, you don't have to answer, I was just-"

His whole body seemed to freeze as she planted a kiss on his cheek. The only thing that changed was how his face went from a blush to being completely red, all the way to his ears and halfway down his neck. He gave her that same wide-eyed look as she moved away, but she saw the beginning of a smile starting to cross his face.

"Uh, princes? Not that I'm not grateful, but...what was that for?"

"You can be so oblivious, can't you?"

Before he could protest, she placed her hands on his burning cheeks, pressing her forehead against his.

"I don't know how you haven't noticed yet," she began as his hands came to rest on her knees, "but...I really like you, Prompto. You're such a sweet guy, and your smile is just the cutest thing. You go out of your way to protect me, and always make sure to check on me. How was I supposed to NOT fall for you?"

His eyes restlessly searched her face as she continued.

"I understand that...I mean...maybe it's just because I'm the princess, or that I'm your friends' sister. Maybe..." Her shoulders slumped a bit. "Maybe I'm reading too far into it, but I was just hoping you might like me, too."

Eyes downcast, she let her hands drop from his face, moving away. Before she could get far, his hands found hers, and her eyes snapped back up to his.

"I do like you!" he said loudly, before swallowing hard and biting his lip, looking for the words. "I really like you. It's not just that you're the princess, or that you're Noctis' sister. It's that fact that...you're you."

It was ger turn to sit and listen with a warm face as he rambled on. It was getting darker, but the light in his eyes was all she needed to see.

"You're absolutely beautiful, and you're kind, too! You laugh at my jokes like you mean it, take care of me when I'm hurt, and...and you do things like this!" He waved one of his hands a little. "You spent the entire day with me simply because you wanted to. No one coerced you, no one made you. You chose to spend time with me."

She let one of her hands return to his cheek. "I'll always choose you."

Like magnets, they gravitated toward each other, and they soon found their lips locked in a meaningful embrace. They were both complete amateurs, having never kissed people before, so it didn't get much farther than simply being lips touching lips, but it couldn't have felt more right. Somehow, someway, both of them just knew that everything in that moment was right.

When he moved back, his forehead rested against hers, both of them breathing a little heavy.

"Thank you," he said softly, putting a hand on the back of her head. His fingers threaded through her hair, and she found herself gravitating toward him again.

"You don't have to thank me," she spoke as she pulled away from a second kiss. "I don't deserve thanks for following my heart."

~~~

"Princess!" Gladio yelled into the disaster area that used to be Altissia. Water flew past from every direction, some of which landed on the prince and princess' three friends. "Hey, this is serious!"

The three shouted her name, searching every accessible place for the girl. Prompto's eyes started to water, but he wiped the tears away quickly, shaking his head.

"I gotta be strong," he muttered through gritted teeth. "I'll never be worthy unless I can be strong in times like this." With that and another shake of his head, he continued through the city, calling her name into every alley and building he passed.

It felt like ages he'd been searching, and he found himself unable to stop the tears, this time.

"This isn't a game!" he shouted without meaning to. "Please, we need you! I need you, princess!" The tears continued. "Just a few days ago, you said you wanted to be with me! I'm right here! Please!"

His legs felt weak, but he put a hand on a building next to him, just in time for a tremor to shake the ground. He was able to keep himself steady until it passed, and he pushed onward through the city.

A look of desperation had settled on his face as his head whipped at every corner, shouting the name of the girl he knew he loved.

He couldn't hold back a sob when he saw a familiar mop of hair making her way down one of the streets. Prompto all but threw himself at the princess, arms wrapped around her shoulders and holding her tight.

"Prompto," she said softly, sounding weak and strained. He moved back to see her holding her arm, which had a huge gash covering it. Blood was practically pouring from the wound. "I-I can't move my arm. I don't know if..." Her shoulders started shaking, and the blond man put a hand on her cheek, feeling the wetness of both tears and the water that whipped around them both. "There was stuff flying everywhere with the water, and I was trying to lead people away, and...and I saw something going for one of the kids, so I grabbed him to protect him and-" She was cut off by her own pained cry.

Prompto put his hand on her good shoulder. "We have to get you out of here," he said, shedding his own tears for the injured girl. "I...I can't do anything for you, here. We should regroup with the others, can you manage it?"

There was certain softness in his voice, along with what seemed like absolute assuredness that she would be okay. The tears in the princess' eyes slowed as she shook her head. "I lost a lot of blood," she admitted. "I don't know how long it is before I pass out or something..."

Her love nodded quickly, before he moved to gently scoop hed into his arms from her god side. She cradled her injured arm, which caused Prompto's heart to drop each time his eyes crossed over it.

"Thanks for finding me," she said quietly, and Prompto almost lost the sound in the wind and debris.

"I don't deserve thanks for following my heart," he recited. The princess sniffed as he stopped by a clear alley, where the wind didn't quite reach. At least, it didn't reach yet.

"I love you," the blond man admitted aloud. "I've loved you from the moment you opened up to me. From the very second you told me everything, I have loved you."

The girl in his arms seemed to relax at his words, her face gently pushing into his neck as she curled in his arms. "I love you, too," she added, and Prompto hoped she didn't hear his heart explode. "I love you so much, Prompto."

He placed a light kiss on her cheek, before glancing back into the streets. "Let's get you somewhere safe."

~~~

She woke up in an unrecognizable hotel room and immediately feared the worst. Had she been kidnapped? Was her brother okay? What about Gladio and Ignis? And Prompto, did he make it out?

Her fears were somewhat set at ease as a familiar body walked toward her from the corner of the room.

"You're awake," Prompto noted, happiness blatant in his voice. "Don't move too much; you've got stitches."

With a glance down at her own arm, she confirmed his words. Her wound had already mostly closed thanks to the stitches, but she still felt uneasy and uncomfortable looking at it. It almost reminded her of the pain she had originally felt.

"Is everyone okay?" the princess asked softly, and her lover's heart broke when her voice cracked.

"Everyone made it out, but..." Prompto sighed, sitting on her bed gently. She moved to be closer, and he helped her to sit up, leaning against him for support. "Noctis isn't awake yet, and Iggy...we think he might have lost his eyesight."

A few tears left her eyes, but the boy was quick to wipe them away. "It's my fault," she whispered. "If I hadn't made you guys come searching for me, he wouldn't have gotten hurt. I'm so sorry." Her crying worsened.

"Don't say that!" The surprise and almost bitterness in his tone shocked the girl, but she remained silent. "You were out there trying to help other people get out safely. Without you, they might not have made it out." His hands rested on her face. "Don't say you're sorry for helping other people. You saved lives, princess."

It was silent for a moment, the only sound being the little sniffs that occassionally left the crying girl.

"Are you okay, Prompto?" she asked a second later. "How are you doing?"

"I'm alright," he said, and the princess shook her head. "What?"

"Be honest," she demanded softly, eyes meeting his with a glare that almost scared him. He sighed.

"I was just...really worried about you is all. I was scared that you wouldn't wake up, or that I wouldn't get you to safety in time, if at all." A soft smile came to him. "But seeing you up and talking makes me feel so much better. I'm happy you're okay."

He placed a light kiss on her lips, before gently laying her back down. "You need to rest. You'll heal better with time and sleep, so you should."

"Stay with me," she said, but it almost sounded like a question. "Don't go."

Prompto thought he might just die looking at the nearly helpless look that she gave him. He found himself incapable of telling her no, which is how he also found himself lying in bed with her, an arm wrapped around her as she laid her head on his chest.

The two didn't care that it was midday, nor did they care when a certain buff friend of theirs came in to check, only to find them passed out next to each other. He outwardly rolled his eyes, but, inside, he silently thanked the Six that someone was able to be at peace after what happened.

[zamancollective]

Focusing a New Lens on Mizrahiness

“Generation(s) of Levantines” by Leeor Ohayon

view the accompanying documentary photography series following the essay

“What exactly are you trying to capture? Which community? There just isn’t such a thing as Mizrahi,” my interviewee told me shortly. He had a point; what on earth was I trying to document?

Being of mixed Moroccan and Adeni heritage and having attended Jewish schools in London all my life, I became very much aware of the erasure of Mizrahi and Sephardic Judaism in the public realm. Jewish studies at school were conducted around an Ashkenazi-centric reading of history that began in Warsaw and ended with the Khurva synagogue in Jerusalem. Israeli Independence Day was celebrated with Klezmer music in the auditorium and dry falafel for lunch.

Mizrahi histories and cultures have been sacrificed at the altar of a collective Jewish imagination. That is to say-- our understanding of Judaism and Jewish memory is always conducted through the Ashkenazi experience, by Jews and non-Jews alike. The Ashkenazi label has become the default face of Judaism and Jewishness, and consequently is often found interchangeably replaced with just “Jewish.” Non-Ashkenazi cultures, in comparison, are hyphenated, asterisked, and put in boxes-- if not shelved entirely.

Perhaps that’s why heading to Israel to document Mizrahim proved to be my own Mizrahi education. I was confronted by the fact that my understanding, despite seeing myself as well versed in Mizrahi history, was coloured by my experience as a Mizrahi in the UK. Ashkenormativity alienates Mizrahim everywhere, but in Israel there is an entire political and social commentary surrounding this subject that often feels absent in the West.

When my interviewee asserted to me that there’s no such thing as “Mizrahi,” he was technically right. Mizrahiness is what professor Ella Shohat referred to as an “imagined community” borne of interactions with Ashkenazi Israel that ethnicised Mizrahi Jews.

So vast is the cultural, linguistic and geographic space that Mizrahi groups occupy that no single aspect could be said to be the unifying factor between them. Neither as followers of the Sephardic rite - Yemenite Jewry proving an exception to that - nor as hailing from a geographic East – for example in the case of North African Jews - and neither in a common lingua franca, like Yiddish for Ashkenazi Jewry.

Rather its formation merely owes itself to the fact that as Jews hailing from Islamic majority places, they endured a shared destiny as non-Ashkenazi Jews in an Ashkenazi state. They went from simply being Jews in their countries of origin to being Mizrahim in Israel.

There are many things to consider while photographing a subject as vast as Mizrahi identity. I had to account for the variation within it in my work, so I held many interviews across the country, with Mizrahim of all stars and stripes and all walks of life, in an attempt to better understand how to capture Mizrahiness.

When I asked my interviewees to point me towards what they considered as Mizrahi, I was told repeatedly to “go to the periphery”.  The simple reason being that in the Israeli “periphery-” the localities of the north and south historical “frontiers” that lay outside the economically prosperous stretch of Israel’s central belt cities, I was to find “authentic” Mizrahiness like it “used to be.” Supposedly, unlike the residents of the Gush Dan metropolitan area, the inhabitants of this stretch of land were not altered by “modernity”.

In this assertion, the interviewees implied (perhaps unconsciously) that Mizrahi traditions and modernity could not be reconciled. The subtext was that to be “authentically” Mizrahi meant to exist outside of modern society. Aside from the fact that the quest for cultural authenticity is futile, many had used the same orientalist tropes that have historically been used to reduce Mizrahim to exotic folklore at odds with modernity.

Such a notion is as old as Zionism itself, which initially relegated historic Mizrahi and Sephardi communities in Eretz Yisrael outside of an Ashkenazi reading of history. A Jewish “return” to a “land without a people” was fundamentally an Ashkenazi return that refused to recognise that a society of Jews and non-Jews alike already existed in historic Palestine.

Likewise, the Ashkenazi establishment belief that Mizrahim were “primitive” and “backward” ultimately led to the disastrous housing policies of the 1950s and 1960s that forcibly placed Mizrahim across volatile front-line borders and empty desert expanses, on the basis that their supposed naturally “primitive state” could withstand living in such harsh conditions without modern comforts and standards.  

Those spaces that Mizrahim settled in became the Israeli periphery of today, which remains etched into the minds of many, including those I interviewed, as spaces outside of modernity.

And yet there is something to be said for the “periphery” as a space that has protected Mizrahi identities and cultures. Particularly when the outskirts of Ashkenazi population centres are also taken into consideration- for instance, Tel Aviv’s southern districts or Jerusalem’s Musrara and Katamonim neighborhoods. These Mizrahi-majority areas served as incubators of a new ethnoreligious identity in Israel.

Mizrahi settlement in the ma’abarot (transit camps) and then in the moshavim (agricultural communes) and development towns that replaced them resulted in historic cultural and societal upheavals.

A break from the Mizrahi past in the diaspora was signaled on two levels, firstly, in Mizrahi settlers’ interactions with their new co-inhabitants that hailed from across the Muslim world; and secondly, in their interactions with the structures of Israel’s Ashkenazi-dominated bureaucracy- through its education system, the military, the employment service and so forth. These interactions took place against the backdrop of Mizrahi isolation from their countries of origin, given the lack of diplomatic ties between Israel and many Islamic and Arab states. The result of this discord is that successive generations of Mizrahim have been raised in a reality where their cultures have gone from being part of a two-millennia-old conversation with the broader region they inhabited to being relegated to the private spheres of home and synagogue within a culturally ‘western’ society.

It is precisely within these interactions with the state and against this backdrop of isolation that a new Mizrahi identity had begun to form on the margins of Israeli society. The subsequent result was an intra-Mizrahi conversation that has resulted in everything from a political consciousness to the birth of Mizrahit - a musical genre rooted in the experience of Mizrahi Jews in Israel.

One of the most apparent symbols of this cultural development is the modern Mizrahi attitude toward pre-wedding henna ceremonies: rituals that many interviewees had told me to avoid capturing for its lack of “authenticity” and as a worn cliché of Mizrahiness.

I shadowed henna planners and tagged along with them to wedding halls and synagogue basements across the country. Each time, I was greeted to a scene that evoked equal feelings of dismay and fascination. Hennas were conducted according to Moroccan cookie-cutter templates regardless of whether the participants were actually Moroccan or not.

I was told that the general gravitation toward the Moroccan tradition arose from the “fun costumes” and “lively atmosphere.” As the second largest Jewish ethnic group in Israel, Moroccans undoubtedly have left their mark on the nation’s collective cultural imagination. But the Moroccan way is also attractive, as one event planner pointed out to me, because many families want to host a henna ceremony but simply don’t know where to begin, as so many traditions were lost in the course of immigration and assimilation into Israeli society.

The modern resurgence of the henna ceremony owes itself to a growing movement of Mizrahi expression in Israel -- one that is increasingly vocal and unabashedly shameless. Yet it still reflects the literal Hebrew meaning of the word mizrah (east). It’s as though Mizrahiness is precisely just that - a smorgasbord of the East.  

I witnessed a Moroccan-Yemeni couple split their ceremony in half allocating equal time to conduct a Moroccan henna and the Yemeni equivalent, a za’afa. I saw an Ashkenazi mother-in-law sitting in Moroccan dress at her Persian soon-to-be daughter-in-law’s henna, while the Persian grandmother sang in Farsi to the mixed crowd. I directed and photographed a henna photo shoot for a wedding magazine with sexed-up traditional dress. I witnessed things that can only be called pan-Mizrahi.

The act of carrying out a henna is perhaps one of the greatest testimonies to the perseverance of Mizrahi cultures and the simultaneous formation of something new. Hennas today pay tribute to a diasporic past that Israel’s founding fathers wanted forgotten in their quest for a Jewish Israeli national consciousness; they boldly pine for a different, newer Israeli identity, one better rooted in its geocultural neighbourhood.

In many ways, that pan-Mizrahi conversation is the closest resemblance to the vision of the unsung essayist, Jacqueline Kahanoff. Kahanoff was a French-educated Egyptian writer of Jewish Iraqi and Tunisian descent who proudly declared herself a Levantine when Israeli statesmen warned of the social and cultural “perils” that such an assertion could bring to Israeli society.  In her essays, Kahanoff asserted that Israel should do its best to view waves of Jewish migration as an opportunity to formulate a new Levantine identity- one that emphasised integration with the region’s Arab communities. She named her philosophy Levantinism, and it is for her series of essays outlining this vision that this project is named.

While Kahanoff’s ideal has not necessarily come to fruition in Israel, a form of Levantinism has arguably manifested amongst Mizrahim.

On my journey, I also headed to a number of Israel’s heritage centres; small memorial-like independent museums that preserve the memory and traditions of Jewish communities from Aden to Kochi. A forty-minute bus ride from Tel Aviv takes you to the town of Or Yehuda, where both the Libyan Heritage Centre and the Babylonian Heritage Centre for Iraqis are found, separated only by a small stretch of road. The former, unlike the latter, is more austere and modest in appearance, but both heritage centres make an avid point of retrofitting Libyan and Iraqi Jewish histories within the Zionist narrative. Both heritage centres emphasised Jewish persecution under Arab Muslim rule and Mizrahi loyalty to the Zionist movement.

I was given a tour around the Libyan Heritage Centre by a guide who spoke of her own family’s suffering in the overlooked Libyan Holocaust. Few are aware that Libya, under Italian colonial rule, hosted the Giado concentration camp in which 562 Jews perished.

My guide relayed a real sense of frustration at Israeli society’s marginalisation of the Holocaust chapters that affected Jews in North Africa and the Balkans. “Why? Because we didn’t lose enough people?” she asked me.

Recognition of the Holocaust that blighted the Libyan community is a historical wrong that needs addressing. Its prevalence today is reflected in the fact that, in Israel, Holocaust remembrance has all the trappings of a civic religion. The memory of the Holocaust and the narrative of the Ashkenazi Zionist “pioneer” were core facets of Israeli identity building and the development of a collective national memory, and it is precisely due to the centrality of both such narratives in the Israeli national pantheon (at the expense of others) that Mizrahim have long felt shut out.

In the heritage center, as we toured countless rooms of wax figures clothed in regional Libyan dress, my guide reiterated the fundamental contribution of Libyan Jews to the Zionist movement, stopping by a series of black and white photographs to discuss Libyan involvement with Zionist youth groups. The role of Libyans in such groups was emphasized throughout the tour. Furthermore, the reiteration of Mizrahim as ardent Zionists was relayed to me in most of the heritage centres I visited and by many second-generation Mizrahim.

The centrality of the Ashkenazi “pioneer” to Israel’s founding story and the Mizrahi erasure within it have left successive generations of Mizrahim striving to be seen as equal partners in the Zionist project. It is that feeling of exclusion in particular, as many interviewees explained to me, that constitutes the origins of stereotypes like the Mizrahi vote for right-wing parties or the Mizrahi person who holds hawkish anti-Arab sentiments. The stereotypes echo the same historical processes that forced Mizrahim to prove themselves as loyal Israelis and to emphatically differentiate themselves from Arabs.

The desire to be written in as equals in the story of Israel’s founding is understandable; Mizrahim did partake in some of the most grueling aspects of state building. However, at the end of the day, the Zionist project was conceived as an Ashkenazi response to European antisemitism.

Devoid of the urgencies that Ashkenazi Jews faced in Europe, Zionism was unable to take root in the Arab world to the same effect. Members of the older generation, for the most part, were comfortable and secure in their homelands. In 1940s Iraq, for example, Zionist emissaries wrote of their despair in Iraqi Jews’ lacking resonance with Zionism. Zionism’s entrance into the Arab world was via the youth, offering Hebrew language classes and opportunities for the young to socialise, and even then only very modest numbers decided to immigrate as a result of Zionist ideals.

Rather, the reasons behind Mizrahi migration and flight are as complex as they are varied, taking place over a long period, from 1949-1979,  continuing well into the 1990s. While state-sponsored discrimination was evident in Iraq in the late 1940s, it was the bombing of the Masuda Shemtov synagogue in 1951 -  suspected by some to be the work of the Zionist underground -  that truly propelled migration. In the case of the Moroccan Aliyot of the 1960s, Jewish emigration owed itself largely to the efforts of Zionist emissaries able to monopolise on the widespread uncertainty over the future following decolonisation and the Arab-Israeli conflicts, as well as genuine religious devotion. In Yemen, immigration owed itself to Messianic fervour and dire economic straits. And in some places, the reason for departure was explained to me as simply as “everyone was leaving, so we did as well.”

And yet the battle over Mizrahi memory continues. The same year of my arrival in Israel, the government declared the first Memorial Day for “the Departure and Expulsion of Jews from Arab countries and Iran” on November 30th.  Mizrahi activists in Tel Aviv explained to me that such a holiday effectively rewrote history, asserting a single, rather than accurately pluralistic, narrative of Mizrahi flight and persecution. In doing so it pushes the idea of a “Jewish Nakba” which acts as a sinister counterweight to Palestinian displacement, while simultaneously asserting to Mizrahim that the key to being equal partners in Israel’s national memory is only through a narrative of eternal victimhood.

At the end of Passover, I headed to the Moroccan-majority development town of Yeruham to witness a “proper Mimouna.” I was enticed by the Moroccan pride I saw on display, moving between houses where front doors were left open for people to come and join. I was able to witness the essence of a Mimouna I thought lost in Israel’s big cities, warmed by the genuine hospitality of open doors that could only stay unlocked in a trusting environment.

The desert air and the individuals I met left me with a feeling that I had to return and spend a lengthier period in Yeruham. And so I did. I quit my part-time job, packed my bag, and headed down south in a move that baffled many people around me as I followed those endless cries:

“Go to the periphery.”

Adi Keissar, poet and founder of Ars Poetika, a Mizrahi and female-friendly poetic space in a field traditionally dominated by Ashkenazi men. Kerem-ha-Teimanim, Tel Aviv, 2015.

Interviewees in a Moshav Yinon, a Yemenite-majority agricultural village in central Israel, 2015.

My great-uncle Moshe Meshumar. He was part of the Shubelim band, one of the earliest players in the formation of Mizrahit music, a genre that combined electric guitars with Arabic, Turkish, Greek and Yemenite elements sung in Hebrew. Shabazi, Tel Aviv, 2015.

Girls dressed up at a Moroccan henna ceremony. East Jerusalem, 2014.

A Moroccan pre-wedding henna ceremony. East Jerusalem, 2014.

A bride wears the Tishbakh lulu (originally of the Sana'a region) and is accompanied to the hall for her pre-wedding za'afa, a ceremony comparable to the Moroccan henna. Binyamina, 2015.

A bride's grandmother sings to her at a Persian henna celebration. Rishon Le Zion, 2015.

A photoshoot for a henna fashion magazine. Ramla, 2015.

Libyan Heritage Centre, Or Yehuda, 2015.

Or Yehuda, 2015.

Ohel Moshe Yemenite syangogue, Moshav Yinon, 2015.

Women pray at the Baba Saleh Tomb. Netivot, 2016.

Beit Shemesh, 2014.

The shouk remains the domain of blue-collar Mizrahim and Palestinians. Carmel Market, Tel Aviv, 2015.

[fiftytwobadstories]

I watched as the world around me changed to shades of brown and grey. The cracked streets were always wet with yesterday’s rain because the sun was too sad to shine. The empty-handed trees reached towards the barren skies in a prayer for warmer days, but the heart of my lonely Earth had long gone cold. Every day was always the same, but I would do my best to walk just a little further. Surely, I wasn’t completely alone in this world. There had to be some other unfortunately soul like myself that had been left behind.

The end of days had come and gone. I was still just a child when it happened and wasn’t quite sure what was going on. I remembered holding onto my Mother’s hand as we were walking across the grocery store parking lot, when slowly, she slipped right from my fingers. I watched as she drifted up towards the sky and I begged her to come back down. Others around me were floating up as well—some were even being taken out of their cars—but my feet stayed shackled to the ground. I cried and I cried until they were nothing more than dark stars in a pale sky and the silence of solitude crept in.

For days, I sat in the same spot of the parking lot and waited for everyone to come back, but they never did. The whole time I had asked myself what was so bad about me that I had been left behind—was it because I had cheated on the spelling test the week before? Was God mad at me for that? The world stayed quiet and I never got my answer. Eventually, I stood up and started walking around the town, but only found the streets lined with empty cars. The silence was everywhere. Before the end came, I had imagined living in a world without the harsh rules of grownups and fantasized about being able to do anything I wanted, but instead I walked back home and into my bed.

It took a long time before I realized that I would have to learn how to take care of myself. Occasionally, I would leave my bed and make my way down to the kitchen for a snack, but then the food started going bad. I walked myself back to the grocery store and found that the food was going bad there too, but being that I was a child, I gravitated towards the candy. I ate sugar until my veins hurt and my whole body buzzed with energy before I finally threw up all over the linoleum. There was no one there to clean up the mess and the multicoloured pile of vomit is still gathering mould to this day, but I just started going to a different store. Though, I was never able to eat candy without feeling sick ever again.

The long days turned into long years and I got too big for my old my old bed. I started wearing my Mother’s clothes when I outgrew mine, but something felt so wrong about sleeping in her bed. The house I grew up in had become a monument to my loneliness and I could no longer bare to look at the photographs on the walls. The town was nothing but empty homes, but even after all that time, I felt weird on intruding in the houses of my neighbours. So, I decided that I would walk to the next town over where everyone would have been a stranger and there was no painful nostalgia. There was also the possibility that there were still people there. So, I packed up a bag with some supplies and set out on the road.

The town was just as empty, but at least it was unfamiliar. I was able to live more freely there without the guilt of stealing from people that I knew—or known. In a way, I still had the mind of a child, but a child left to rot without supervision. I finally let myself succumb to the fantasies I had so many years ago when the world was green. Everything that I deemed pretty now belonged to me, and I broke the perfect porcelain faces of the dolls that I was never allowed to play with. Unfortunately, The silence had hunted me and I learned that all the jewels and dresses of being a princess meant nothing if you didn’t have a court.

I hoped the next town after would at least have one person still there, but I only found more quiet emptiness. I called out for someone—anyone, but only heard my own voice echoed back at me. I kept on screaming, but now it was as though I were screaming at God himself. Why did He leave me here? Tears filled my eyes and I fell to my knees. I pounded my fists into the pavement of the deserted street until it was stained with blood. So, I cheated on a spelling test—did that make me so bad? I cursed God and even begged the Devil to take me because the awful loneliness was worse than Hell could ever be.

When the tears dried out, I sat on the pavement and waited for something to happen. It reminded me of that day when I waited for everyone to come back down, and just like back then, nothing happened. I let out a long sigh and wiped my nose before picking myself back up and setting my sights on the next town. I lied to myself and said that there would likely be someone there, or at least the town after that. If I didn’t have those lies, I wouldn’t have anything else.

Town after town after town. Breasts were now sagging off of what was once a flat chest and my body would sometimes start bleeding for days on end for seemingly no reason at all except for ruining my clothes. I was beginning to look more like my Mother—or, at least, I thought I was. I could now hardly remember her face or the sound of her voice. Silence: that goddamn silence. I was getting so sick of it all, but maybe the next town would have someone. Though, I knew it wouldn’t.

Eventually, I ran out towns and found myself staring at the big empty ocean. I stood atop a cliff face and looked down at the blue finish line. It occurred to me then, that there was one way of getting to Heaven that I hadn’t thought of. I leaned my toes over the edge and thought of being wrapped in my Mother’s arms one more time or laughing with friends from school. The salted air blew right through me and I felt tears in my eyes, but I didn’t know why I was crying. I would be with them all again soon.

“Wait!” a voice broke the silence.

I turned to see a girl behind me. She leaned over her knees as she tried to catch her breath, but she kept one hand stretched out towards me. The air drained from my lungs and I was now crying even more than before. Not one of us said another word, instead we ran for each other and held on as tightly as we could—not wanting to ever let go. She kept whispering the word finally in her shaking breaths and I couldn’t stop the tears flowing from my eyes. I gasped in as much air as I could, but my chest felt as though it was going to explode. I wasn’t alone.

She had been left behind like I had and had been searching for someone else all that time. Now the search was over for the both of us. We looked out over the ocean and listened to the waves crashing against the rocks. If I was able to find one other soul, then surely there must be more out there. I looked at her and asked if she was ready to hit the road. She smiled at me as she took my hand in her’s and together we turned our backs to the ocean. There had to be more people out there and we were going to find them. The journey would be long, but at least it wouldn’t be silent.