#those Twitter girls are laughing while I’m sweating and terrified

[glisteningwind]

If Cirie is Cameron’s back door plan, I need production to intervene. I don’t care if the season is already rigged for Cirie. Let’s rig it some more. Cirie HAS to win.

[knjnvrland]

Prank Wars - ch. 3

> pairing | jungkook x reader

> word count | 3.2k

> genre | college!au, fluff, smut, angst

> warnings | swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual innuendos

> synopsis | College can be a stressful time in anyone’s life as it is, why don’t we throw a little prank war in the mix to make it harder?

> fic masterlist

> A/N | English is not my first language, I’m sorry for the eventual spelling mistake, please let me know if you find any!

Chapter 3 - Adding Wood

“Dude please, you have to help me” Taehyung was at Jungkook’s place way too early in the morning, already bothering the younger one.

“Just let it go” Jungkook rolled his eyes, grabbing himself some cereal and pouring it into the bowl on the table. Cereal first, milk later, whoever thinks otherwise is a psychopath.

“I can’t! Someone uploaded a picture of it to the school's twitter gossip page and now I can’t go anywhere without being called a fucking tampon!” The incident at the party happened over a week ago and people were still talking about it. For the first few days it was actually kind of funny and Taehyung played along, but after trying to get a girl’s number and getting a no from her because of it, he finally decided he needed to get his revenge. “Beside that, you were the actual target, don’t you want to do something about it?”

“Not really.” Jungkook answered with his mouth full. “It’s not like she actually got me, and I’m not into the idea of fueling the weird vendetta she has against me.”

“But if she tried once she probably will again!” Taehyung finally took a sit and stopped his pacing, trying to convince his friend using a different approach. “I know my sister, she won’t stop at that.” That was a lie, he knew you were not really one to hold grudges, and whatever it was that Jungkook did to you had him surprised just as much as anyone else at how you reacted, but he was saving that picture of you for so long now, just waiting for a justifiable chance to use it, and this was the perfect opportunity. 

Jungkook finished his cereal and started to grab his stuff to head to class, with Taehyung always behind him, blabbering about the stupid plan. It wasn’t even that big of a plan, really, just publishing an old photo of you on that same twitter page, the old 'an eye for an eye' thing. He was only bothering Jungkook so much because Jungkook actually knew who ran the account, and had kept it a secret from everyone else. “Fine! Okay, whatever, just send me the stupid pic and I’ll make sure it’s up by tonight.” He gave up. In the year he knew Tae, it was obvious the bleached hair boy was not keen on giving up, specially on a dumb idea.

“Thanks! But wait until we’re all together tonight, I can’t wait to see her face.” Taehyung hugged Jungkook from behind, receiving a shove from the other boy’s elbow, and followed him outside.

You were all at Jin’s apartment that night, it was game night and your older brother was trying to establish some sort of new tradition. Hoseok was just finishing his over complicated explanation on the rules for War when you got the notification. It’s not like you used social media that much, but the appeal of the twitter account grew on you ever since the accident and checking the new comments under your brother’s picture became part of your morning routine and made your days begin at least 5% happier because of it. Even if he wasn’t the real target, that shit was amazing and a few of your classmates even stopped you to comment on it, the embarrassment of it all washed away quickly.

And that’s why you were left absolute speechless being betrayed like that by same website that made your week great. You must’ve been about fifteen when that picture was taken. You were going through some sort of late horse phase and had been taking horseback riding classes all summer, and on the last day of it there was a competition where you placed second. In the picture you were at the podium, still wearing your helmet with hair wet from sweat sticking in odd directions. You had a pink shirt that read 'I love horses’ on it and matching pink boots. Your smile was wide and your braces were on full display while you held your silver medal. The picture was cropped, of course, seeing as Tae wasn’t on it and you remember clearly that he took those classes with you and was standing right beside you when your mom took the photo. You looked like such a child, no boobs, no hips, ridiculous choice of clothes. You took your time growing up, being the baby of the family, and now looking back you could totally understand why your only friends were your brothers. You loathed that picture ever since, and was sure that you had destroyed all evidence it ever existed, but apparently someone saved a copy. Your train of thoughts was interrupted by a laughing Jimin sitting across from you.

“Oh my god y/n” he had tears in his eyes already, and the commotion made Alice scoot closer to peep at his phone and see what was so funny anyway.

At that everyone took out their phones to check what the fuss was about, and a big laughter erupted all around you. Your eyes laid on Jungkook, the only one laughing that did not have his phone out as well. “Why are you laughing?” You tried to ignore the multiple questions your other friends were throwing at you.

“I bet he’s the one that posted it” Yoongi stated and everyone could see the minute you started to shoot daggers through your eyes.

“How did you even get that?” Namjoon had his phone out and was sharing the screen with Hoseok, but only the dancer was paying attention, taking a screenshot of the page. “A few years back she purged that photo from existence”.

“Or so she thought” Taehyung had this side smile on his face and it took everything in you to not slap it off.

“It's not that bad honey” Alice, who was sitting beside you, squeezed your shoulder “It’s a childhood pic, we only know it’s you because we’re close, no one else will recognize you” You were still speechless taking your friend’s phone from her hand and pointing at the description with the photo. ‘Local drink thrower used to be a horse girl, let’s hope she doesn’t use a horseshoe next time’ and then, as if it wasn’t obvious already, they had tagged your account.

“They left out the best of it” Jungkook blurted out, and everyone’s attention went back to him.

“So it was you” Your voice was barely audible.

“It was Taehyung, actually, I just helped” he shrugged “and it could be worse, I sent it telling them you were a teenager when it was taken, not a kid”. Tae bursted out laughing again, followed by Jimin.

“At least it’s a glow up, y/n” your pink haired friend stated “you're hot now, it gives people hope”. 

“Hey, that’s my sister” Jin warned.

“And she. is. hot.” Jimin insisted, earning himself a slap in the back of the head from the eldest of the group, but winking at you anyway.

You could appreciate what he was trying to do, as well as Alice, who still had her hand on your shoulder. You had heard stories of similar things they posted about each other last year, so no one was really bothered with Jungkook’s and Taehyung’s actions, but it still made you uneasy. You were still new in college and already so many things were being spread about you. The fact that everyone knew your friend group didn’t help, and you hoped you could survive the rest of the school year, at least. 

Everyone’s attention went back to the game they never began, but Jungkook’s eyes were set on you. He felt a bit sorry, of course, but you seemed to take it okay as you grabbed a card to read your goal on the game, not bothering to say anything to him. Seeing you at the party he expected a bit of a bigger outburst, and when you barely reacted he worried he crossed a line with the stupid prank, but then, just as you finished your turn and everyone’s focus was now on Namjoon, you looked straight at him and mouthed “I'm gonna kill you”. He didn’t quite know what he got himself into, but he knew he was in for a ride.

A month had gone by and Halloween was approaching fast. Between classes getting harder, school work starting to pile up, and a few overnights already at the library, you had spent way too much time thinking of a way to get back as Jungkook, but was not really successful. That is, until you overheard Hoseok and Namjoon talking while the three of you were having lunch together.

“Wait, backtrack, what halloween party?” You interrupted the boys conversation.

“It’s at Delta Sigma’s again” Namjoon clarified “but it’s dumb ‘cause it’s not even a dress up party, they’re just using halloween as an excuse to get drunk again.”

“And what’s the problem with that?" Hobi stole one of Joon's french fries, having finished his. "We could all use a bit of fun before things get chaotic with university work.”

“The problem is” Namjoon stole it back and ate it “it's not a halloween party if we’re not dressing up.”

“Of course it is, if it’s on Halloween’s night-" before Hoseok could continue, and you knew the two of them could go on like that for hours -you’ve seen it happening-, you took your chance.

“Okay I’m sorry to interrupt but I need your help with something” you smiled big, the kind of smile that told them nothing good was coming their way, the kind that had your friends terrified of you, the kind that they could not say no to.

You ended up getting everyone on board with it, they all still felt a little bit bad about the photo prank, and once you convinced Alice -who never wanted to do anything bad or, as Yoongi would say, fun- it was pretty easy getting the rest of them. You faked conversations for days on the group chat, and you were surprised at how everyone was able to keep a secret for so long, but finally the day was here.

It was hard thinking of an excuse as to why Yoongi could’t be Jungkook’s ride to the party, but after a bit of bribing, Taehyung offered to take him before he could ask the older one. He still owned you, anyway, and he should be glad he was not the target of this prank as well. That being settled, you all made the effort of getting to the party when it was actually supposed to start.

“What’s taking him so long?” You asked out loud, not to anyone in specific.

“Have you tried texting your brother?” Yoongi was beside you and heard it. He wasn’t one to talk much when he was still sober, so the two of you normally sticked around each other, specially when Alice was as hyper as she was now, taking advantage of the fact that you got here early when there was still good alcohol around, and drinking as much of it as she could with Jimin.

“Dude, is it always like this when we get to places on time?” Said drunk boy threw his arm around Yoongi.

“You would know if you tried every once in a while” he moved away from the embrace, and Jimin took the cue and hung himself around you instead.

“Nah, only y/n could make me do this” you smiled thankfully at him, and was distracted for a moment when some sort of commotion took place at the room near you, where the front door was located.

You untangled yourself from Jimin and marched there without a second thought, and you had just spotted Taehyung leaning over a wall when someone screamed “Who hired the clown?”. And there was Jungkook, still midway at the entrance door, dressed head to toe as a circus clown. Laughter erupted everywhere around the room and you could even recognize Jin’s loud one somewhere behind you, but you were too focused at the boy staring straight into your soul. Jungkook had locked eyes with you and you took your sweet time smiling victoriously back at him. No words needed to be said for him to know that it was all your doing. Some guy from the fraternity came towards him and patted him on the back, and Jungkook responded by laughing along and making his way inside. You knew he was embarrassed by how red his ears were, and by the thumbs up your brother sent you from across the room, but he was a good sport and played along with it, taking pictures, getting in character and smiling along with the jokes. You were a little annoyed at how well he was handling it, but you already knew he was just that type of person and honestly, you could even appreciate him a little bit for it. You got cold feet a couple hours ago, when you were getting ready, and even tried to call it off, but Alice, of all people, stopped you. You would have felt horrible if he actually was hurt by the prank and the pictures that would go around after tonight were enough to satisfy you as far as revenges went, you didn’t need the boy feeling bad as well. Jimin snuck back beside you and pulled you in a commemorative embrace, and you followed him to the dance floor. Your mission here was done, now it was time to have fun.

And you tried to, but your plan backfired a bit when every now and then a girl would approach your friend group and ask for Jungkook’s number. But apparently that was a normal thing for him at parties, as Jimin had pieces of paper already with Jungkook’s number written on them shoved into his pockets.

“He wrote his number a bunch of times and distributed amongst us once last year, but I still menage to find pieces of paper with it in every pocket of every pair of pants I own” Jimin took a bunch out, to prove his point.

“How are you even friends with him?” You couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“What can we do? He’s a crackhead, but he’s our crackhead” he handed you a few pieces of paper and you threw them up like they were confetti.

For the rest of the night you’d have to stop whatever you were doing so Jimin could hand someone Jungkook’s number, but it didn’t matter because at the end of the day, he would still be known by all those girls as the boy who showed up dressed as a clown, and that was good enough for you.

After the party things quieted down for a bit, as everyone’s work load got heavier. The pictures of Jungkook as a clown still made a few rounds and became a meme amongst your friends, being sent as an answer to basically everything. He pretended to be annoyed at first but couldn’t really keep up with everyone and just gave up, you won. It was already mid November and Jungkook was not really thinking of a way to get back at you. He was a little afraid to keep adding wood to that fire, but his pride was a little bit hurt. And then, the perfect opportunity was handed to him on a silver tray.

There were a few of you at the boy’s place. Jungkook and Taehyung were playing videogames, while Alice, Hoseok and you were at the kitchen cooking dinner. It was a chill and uneventful Wednesday night, and you gathered just because no one had anything better to do. You were just  telling your friends on the new updates you got on the guy you were currently crushing on.

After Jungkook’s prank, you ended up getting drunk with Jimin and Alice and bumped into the same guy you met at the previous party you went at Delta Sigma, he was still bright eyed and handsome, but now he also had a name: Ray. Even his name was cool. You ended up dancing together and talking a bit, but never got around to exchanging phone numbers, so you haven’t seen him since. You had a vague memory of him mentioning his major was something related to engineerings, and one of your classmate’s girlfriend was a chemical engineering student, so you asked her to look around, but with no success, and that’s what you were updating your friends on.

“I could ask around to the guys, if he frequents their parties someone must know him" Hoseok said, occupying his hands with the peeling of a piece of string cheese.

“I don’t want to seem like a stalker, though” you stood up to check the oven, where you were waiting for the potatoes to be done “and maybe he’s not even interested, I told him I was in lit, he could have looked for me”.

“Maybe he just forgot babes, you were both pretty drunk” Alice pointed out.

“As if I was the only one” you teased back “but seriously, I don’t want you to go out of your way to find him, if it’s supposed to happen, it will”

“It’s up to you, you know I wouldn’t mind” Hobi finished his cheese and stood up to get another piece from the fridge “and besides, you’ve been so stressed out, a good lay could help” Alice glared at him and you scoffed.

“Hobi, not even the best sex of my life could ease the stress of trying to finish that damn Bukowski paper” You played along, as Jungkook approach the counter and reached for a piece of sliced tomato on the other side.

“Bukowski? I like his stuff” you rolled your eyes at him and went to get him another beer, knowing the reason he made himself present could only be that.

“Of course you would” you handed him the beverage and, while chewing, he signaled ‘two’ with his hands, letting you know Tae also wanted one.

He took it and went away for a second to deliver the drink, but came back to the same spot “what were you even talking about, anyway?”

“Y/n likes a boy -ouch” Hobi started to answer, and Alice kicked him under the table, but it was already too late, Jungkook’s eyes were sparkling with curiosity.

“So the ice queen has a heart, who’s the poor soul?” He was trying to get a reaction out of you and you knew it.

“None of your business” You took the potatoes out of the oven “and get out of my way before I throw this at you”

“You have terrible aim” at that, Taehyung joined Jungkook hovering over the counter “and look, Tae’s even here, I’m safe” you rolled your eyes and decided to not further the little back and forth. Hobi and Alice were already setting up the table and you urged the two younger ones to help and stop bothering you.

They listened, not really because of you but more so because of the other two around you sending them warning glares, and the evening continued nicely, with everyone even forgetting the conversation about the pretty boy. Well, not everyone.

> A/N | We're starting to get savage here. Have a nice day, wherever and whoever you are :)

TAGLIST  @w1tchcraftt

TAGLIST IS OPEN!

[this-is-where-i-put-my-dark-shit]

Your Savior Is Here! CH 2: Welcome Home

Trigger warning: This chapter contains suicidal thoughts and mentions of rape(no one gets raped)

Please let my know if you like it😁

Natasha POV “Holy fucking shit!” I’m holding on with dear life from the moment of take off and even with his arms wrapped around me I don’t feel safe. I feel as if he goes out of his way to dodge last minute to make me clutch on to him tighter, that he enjoys the little bit of fear he insights in me. I close my eyes and press my face deep into his chest, hoping if I act scared enough he will give me a small amount of mercy. It seems to work, he slows down a bit and we suddenly arrive at Vought, landing oh so gently on a large balcony near the highest parts of the tower. I don’t let go right away and he doesn’t either, my arms are too tense to relax but he doesn’t seem to mind.

He carries me inside princes style, making sure to activate the electric lock when the door slides close behind us, he swivels around in circles for a moment once we are inside. With one arm still around me he pulls my bag away from me to get to my tarp which he lays over a large chair in a small living room. “Are okay sweet girl?” He hums in a surprisingly soft voice. His other hand comes back, this time to rest on my back where it begins drawing small circles there. “Would you be okay if I set you down? Your legs are trembling so I don’t think you’d be okay on your own.” I want to yell at him that I’m fine but I just nod, not wanting to bring out his psychotic side if he wants to be this nice now. He sets me down gently, as if he is worried I might break. I pull my arms away once I know I won’t hit the ground, this is embarrassing enough. “I’m going to go start a bath for you, okay? Will you be okay by yourself? No one can get in here so you’ll be completely safe,” Even with his kind tone and soft eyes, I know what he is really saying. Can I trust you not to make a run for it? You can’t get out anyway. “Where are we?” I wonder, though a quick glance around makes it obvious. “We are home! I’ll give you a full tour after you are all clean.” There is a knock on the door across the apartment. His happy face falls for just a moment, his hard gaze is a silent warning to keep my mouth shut. I’m not an idiot, unless it is Queen Maze on the other side of that door, no one can help me. He turns and strides across the apartment to the front door, leaving me in the bedroom area. I curl in on myself in the large chair, with it already facing away from the door, I’m hidden from anyone coming in. Out in front of me is a better view of the city than I ever thought I would see. Behind me there is a large, California king bed with dark blue bedding, on the other side of it are open double doors that lead to a black marble bathroom. There is a room divider separating the living room and the bedroom made of horizontal slats, almost like floor to ceiling wooden blinds. Through them I can see a bit into the kitchen and entryway. Homelander is at the door talking to someone. I shift forward slightly hoping to peek at who could be there but Homelander’s large frame is taking up the door way. Relaxing back into my seat I stare out the window again, the idea briefly pops into my head to make a run for the balcony. That is just as quickly denied. If there is even a chance that I could break the two inch thick glass in between me and that edge and jump over, Homelander could follow me over and catch me before I even hit the ground. Getting me on his shit list for not even a guarantee of death. No thanks. I should see what my chances are here first. I’m so lost in my head I don’t even notice him approaching me again, a small smile on his face. He crouches down next to my chair, “If you could have any meal in the world right now, what would it be?” To say that question didn’t surprise me, would be the biggest lie I ever told. “Um… I don’t really care, anything is fine.” “I’m sorry, the kitchen is all out of anything,” His tone isn’t confident, the delivery wasn’t the greatest but that was a fucking dad joke. “Chicken noodle soup,” I blurt out, unsure of what could settle in my stomach after not eating in so long. “That’s it?” I nod. “Anything to drink?” “A coke?” He shakes his head, “No caffeine. How about a sprite?” “That works too,” I hesitate the next words out of my mouth but I’m sure he would want to hear it, “Thank you.” Homelander is grinning ear to ear, “Such good manners! I knew you had them!” Fucking prick. He is off again, back at the door to finish up his conversation. A few minutes later he comes back with bags in his hands but heads straight to the bathroom, so I wait. The bath is running and the bags are crinkling. I’m sweating now. What the fuck is he planning on doing? His promise of bad things he could do without killing me comes into my head again and suddenly panic is setting in and the idea of jumping out of the window seems like a good idea. Death I’m not afraid of, but rape and torture, has me shaking. Fuck! “Woah, woah, woah, what’s getting you all riled up little one?” He coos as he returns from the bathroom. Of course, mother fucker has super hearing doesn’t he? Homelander comes around the chair and uses a red gloves hand to brush a few curls out of my face, “Your heart is beating like a rabbits. Tell me, what’s wrong?” “What are you going to do to me?” I ask in a surprisingly strong voice. “I’m running a bath so we can get you all cleaned up? Do you not like baths?” I consider lying and saying yes, I’m terrified of baths and I could pray to someone that he would just let me take a shower myself. But lying to the most powerful man in the world seems like a bad idea so I don’t. “I don’t feel comfortable with you seeing me naked.” He laughs, “Don’t you worry sweet girl! I already thought of that!” With ease, he scoops me up, tarp and all, and carries me to the bathroom where I find the bathtub partially full, piles of bubbles on top of the water. “The bubbles will hide your modesty the first few times until you feel comfortable.” “That doesn’t make me feel any better. I would be much more comfortable taking a bath by myself, please?” I throw in the polite tone and the please for even the smallest chance he might agree. “And I would be much more comfortable sitting next to the tub to make sure you aren’t causing any trouble. Who do you think has more say here?” Even with his sweet tone I gulp, “You do.” “So smart. Now I’m going to set you down, will you be okay to stand on your own?” I nod. He sets me down on my own two feet, “Now since you were honest with me about how you felt, I will turn around so you can get into the bath, okay? But I don’t want to hear any funny business, and I hope you know, I can hear everything.” “Yes.” With that settled he turns around in the door way so he is facing the bedroom. I hesitate there, my eyes scanning over my new surroundings for the off chance there is a better escape option but once again, other than killing myself, I’m shit out of luck. The white marble floor is cold beneath my feet, contrasting from the warmth of the living space. My eyes scan up the high walls that are covered in black marble, the same white and black contrast goes through out the whole bathroom from the white sink and its’ black base to the massive white tub to the black glass shower. I can’t help but stare in awe at such a large bathroom. The water is almost full in the tub, I step up on to the platform it’s on to test the water. It’s warm against my hand. The plastic bags he had been carrying are lying next to the tub, A part of me wants to peak but he would hear the bag. “Are you getting in?” He wonders with his back towards me. “I’m counting to five before I just do it myself.” I panic. “One.” I scramble to get my clothes off and throw them into a hazardous pile on the floor. “Two. Three.” I’m dipping my foot in, making sure to make an extra splash for him to hear. “Are you in?” When I am fully submerged up to my collar bone I sigh, “Yes.” “Good!” He spins around and comes to join me by taking seat on the edge of the platform. He makes himself comfortable, arm resting on the ledge, chin resting on his arm as if we are lovers enjoying a nice night. In the bath I am able to sit with my legs fully stretched out and my back resting along the curve of the tub wall. It’s a comfortable place to be, minus the psycho in a costume who is just staring at me. His head cocks to the side as he stares. “What?” I wonder as I try to figure out what has his attention so fixed. He sighs, “Nothing, I just enjoy looking at you.” “Why?” “Because you are just so nice to look at. I’m not usually a fan of people like you and the last plain person I,” He hesitates, “That I, um, thought was interesting looked nothing like you.” I raise a brow at that, “Do you often pick up women and do this to them?” “No! You are the first women to come this far into my home.” “What made me so special?” I mean it as a joke, I’m not special, I’m sure I’m just the next victim on his list. He doesn’t take it as a joke, his eyes shift into something so much more serious than he has been this whole time. “Everyone else wants something from me. You saw me and didn’t ask for anything even when you needed help as a homeless person on the street but you didn’t expect anything from me. You told me to fuck off. People here are so fucking greedy, it’s disgusting. Just fat old pigs and hags who want me to do nothing but stand there and smile while they keep making more and more useless money. People on the street just want me so they can take pictures for fucking twitter or instagram, they want to be saved so they can tell everyone. But you, you need me to save you. You need someone to look after you and protect you, and make sure you get enough sleep, and enough food. I don’t want to save those fuckers out there, the only person I want to save is you.” Oh fucking shit, he’s crazier that I thought. This guy thinks he’s some almighty god that everyone wants, but the more I actually think about it he is right. He is Homelander, America’s greatest hero! And also a closeted sociopath. Just fucking great. He places a hand on my cheek, “You are the one good thing I have in my life now.” I can’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth, “You don’t even know who I am. Like you haven’t even asked me my name or how I ended up on the street. I’m a terrible person, I’ve done some crazy stuff for drugs, does that not disgust you?” “I’m so sorry, please, sweet girl, what is your name?” “Natasha…” Homelander just beams at me, “That’s a beautiful name. Look Natasha, from how you respond to me I know you know that I’m not the great person in the world, strongest, without a doubt but I have let a lot of people die and killed a lot of people without any regret so you don’t have to worry about me judging you for things you have done in the past. As long as you are honest with me, we won’t have any troubles!” He pats me cheek gently before moving to grab stuff from the bag, he pulls out some kind of shampoo and conditioner for curly hair and a men’s body wash. “I’m not sure if these will work for you, I ordered these for you from just what I could remember of you from a few hours ago. This is mine, I considered getting you some of the normal women’s soaps but they just smell terrible so you can just smell like me.” Without missing a beat he removes his gloves and pulls up the sleeves of his uniform. A rag appears in his hand next, I curl in on myself, my skin crawls at the idea of him scrubbing me down. He is quick to notice my distress and does his best to calm me. “Since it’s your first bath time, I’ll let you clean yourself under the water but I get to help with your arms and your back. And there will be no ifs, ands or buts about me washing your hair, understand?” I just nod. There isn’t really any room for argument with him. “You know you are allowed to talk,” He points out as he squirts some of the body wash on to the wet rag and lathers it up before hold out his hand expectantly for my arm. I give it to him. “I know. I just don’t know what to say,” I admit, looking away from the solid grip he has on my limb. I wait for pain or something but his touch is gentle, firm but he rubs the soap over my skin with just enough force to get the grime off my skin. “We can talk about whatever you want.” “Can I ask what you are going to do to me?” He chuckles, “Of course, but I already told you. I’m going to take care of you. Today after your bath, I’m going to get you dressed, you are going to have a late lunch and then you are going to take a quick nap. After your nap we are going to talk about you and what you like so I can send that intern to get a few more things for you and by that time it will be dinner and bedtime.” I hum, thinking his words over, he’s treating me like a child. Don’t tell me he has some daddy kink he needs to work out. I’ve had enough shit in my life from my actual dad, I don’t need this traumatic shit on top of it. I consider just asking to leave but I know that won’t fucking work. I just watch him as he happily works on my other arm now, the clean part of my skin are slightly pink from the amount of scrubbing needed but it is nice to see my natural brown complexion without any dirt on it. My skin has gotten much darker than my natural light brown skin tone from months of sitting in the summer sun. Homelander seems happy too. He marvels at my clean arms for a few moments before asking me to turn away from him so he can clean my upper back. “You are so thin,” He states as his fingers run along the top of my spine until his finger hits the water. “That’s what happens when you live on the street for as long as I have.” He’s silent for a moment. “Well never again.” I scoff, “Are you really going to keep me forever?” “That’s the plan.” “What if I misbehave?” I look over my shoulder at him when his response isn’t as instances, he’s just staring again. For the third time, he pets my head, “I will discipline you accordingly. But only if you misbehave.” “Will you kill me?” “If I wanted to kill you, I would have left your body parts in the pile I left of those drug dealers.” I nod, taking that as my cue to shut my mouth. He continues with his work, setting the rag aside to reach for the shampoo. “Lay back and get your hair wet.” I sink deeper into the warm water, tipping my head back so my curls can have a much needed cleaning. With my head dipped back into the water I feel myself disconnecting with the world and allowing myself to some what relax. After a few measured breaths I sit back up, he’s staring again as if in a trance. My fingers do a half assed attempt at running my hands through my curls, there are too many knots for me to do it successfully. “Do you have a brush?” I ask hopefully. Silently he digs through the bag and holds a regular hair brush out to me. I take it and grit my teeth as I begin raking the thing through my hair, brushing out wads of dead hair and knots. It takes me at least five minutes to get through it all and by the ends my arms are hurting, Homelander hasn’t been able to look away. “I would really like to help you next time,” He informs me as he takes the brush away. I nod, “It will be a lot easier next time, it’s been at least half a year since I last brushed my hair, I just thankful I don’t have to shave it again. The tiny Afro I had was nice for the summer but my hair brings me a lot of warmth in the winter.” “How long were you living on the street?” “About six years now.” “Why so long? Didn’t you ever consider getting a job so you could get off the street?” “By the time I was old enough to get a job I was already so used to where I was that I didn’t really see the need to change anything. I was high all the time and didn’t mind sleeping with a trap and a blanket in a random alley.” He moves to stand behind me, his hands lathered with vanilla scented shampoo, his long fingers just tangle into my curls at the root and slowly work their way to the ends that stop a few inches down my back. “You have such pretty curls.” All I can do is say, “Thank you.” “You can dip your head back.” I do. When I come back up he already had the conditioner in his hands, he repeats the same process as before. It’s not as weird as I thought it would be, sure I’m still anxious and naked in a bath tub with some low key daddy kink supe, but when Iook at him he’s not staring into the water to catch a peek, he’s staring at my face or my hair. Weird, but not absolutely terrible just yet. We let the conditioner sit for a few moments as I drag my hands through the bubble, picking up a handful like I see in movies and blowing them away like flower petals. It’s much less glamorous than in the movies but it’s still funny, Homelander finds it adorable and does it back to me. I dip my head back in. “Okay, now just as promised I am going to let you wash the rest of yourself. Since you are feeling bashful I’ll give you five minutes to enjoy bath time by yourself. I’m going to be in the living room, I’ll let you know when your time is up. I’ll bring you a towel and some clean clothes, okay?” “Yes.” “Good girl.” I bite my tongue. He stands up, handing me the rag and the body wash before heading into the bedrooms to do god knows what. When I know he is out of site I take the body wash and scrub the rest of myself clean for the first time in forever. It only takes a minute to clean myself up, I use the rest of my time to float in that surreal place in the water. I let myself tip back and actually enjoy my time in the water, my ears plug, my body warm, and my eyes closed. I could stay here forever but I know it won’t last, I have at most another minute before he comes in to tell me my time is done. He will come back up, I’ll listen to whatever he says and he will call me a good girl again. “Fucking prick,” I mumble softly under my breath.

[into-control]

submission:

(i’m making my comments along the way in bold because whew)

my v embarrasing old showmila fanfic

context: I was technically 11 yrs old, but very nearly 12 (😭). this was written in the IKWYDLS era, and I'd only just become a fan of shawn and fifth harmony, so I barely knew anything about their personalities. I really believed that shawn and camila were secretly dating. and for some reason, I clearly thought shawn was some kind of cocky bad boy 🤦 

anyway, this is super embarrassing lol. I've deleted the fic from quotev now. the plot of the fic was basically that shawn makes a bet with those vine guys he was friends with that he can get camila to fall in love with him in a week. but then, once they eventually get together, camila starts getting stalked and threatened by a crazy gay fan of shawn's that's in love with him and hates camila. (homophobic undertones I know 😬 I'm gay and was def not impressed with myself reading it back)

EXTRACT 1:

Summary: Shawn made a bet with Cameron and Jack that he will get Camila to fall for him by the 1 week deadline but somewhere along the way he found himself falling in love with her- and hard. What will happen when Camila finds out? Will Shawmila survive? Or is Shawn finally gonna find out what it feels like to be broken in pieces?

A certain brown- eyed heartthrob barged into Camila's dressing room. "Shawn!" she screamed, dropping the magazine she had been gazing at. Shawn was curious; he strolls over to the magazine and picked it up. On the front cover was a huge picture of himself. He smirked. "Camila, why stare at a picture of me when you can stare at the real thing baby girl?" Camila was confused, what did he mean? She snatched the magazine off him and she sighed. "That's not the page I was looking at," she explained, turning to a page where there was a shirtless pic of Taylor Lautner. She hands it back to him. (omg heterosexual icon)

"Wait, what'd ya mean? I am way hotter than some man who plays a dog!" Shawn exclaims cockily. "Haven't you seen Twilight, Shawn? He's a werewolf!" "Shawn too cool to watch Twilight," he countered. (why is he talking like a caveman pls)

EXTRACT 2:

Cameron turned to look at Jack. "He's been flirting with Cabello again!" he said to him, clearly irritated. Wait, what? He was not flirting with Camila, they were fighting!!! Were his friends blind? "Dude, face it. You soo like her," said Jack. "I do not have a crush on Camila!" "You visit her every day, have your dumb flirt/fights and you always talk about her- always!" shouted a frustrated Jack. (the way jack used a slash in an out loud sentence) "Only because it's fun to annoy her and if I liked a girl I would ask her out!!" "No You're afraid that she doesn't like you, that you'll get rejected and made a fool of yourself!" Cameron guessed. "Fine! I will get Camila Cabello to fall for me and guess what; I can do it within one weeks!" He yells in anger. Oh no, Shawn Peter Raul Mendes never loses his temper. (u serious right now) "It's a bet then. And if Jack and me win you have to admit you love her, in front of everybody!" said Cameron. Shawn agreed but as he walked away, he wonderes if he'd made the right choice. Oh well, time to turn on the Shawn Mendes charm, he thought, popping his collar. Starting from tomorrow. Though"

EXTRACT 3:

As he walked back to his table, he felt happy- it was because he was going to prove Cameron and Jack wrong. He ate his sandwich without saying a word to his friends and went to go to the flower shop. "Hey get me the best roses you got," he demanded. The employee's eyes widened and before she could say anything, he interrupted. "Yeah yeah I'm the awesome Shawn Mendes, hit singer, now get the flowers lady" (GSHDHDHAHSHAHHA) She rushes over and grabbed some expensive looking roses; he paid the money and gave a 100 dollar tip and headed back to the Fifth Harmony house. He left them on the table in Camila's dressing room that shared with Dinah, with a careful note. As he walked out, he bumped into Miss Cabello herself. "Shawn, what were you doing in our dressing room!" she shouted. "You'll see," he replied mysteriously, before walking off in his bad boy stroll. She shrugged and stepped inside, when she spotted the flowers on her table. They were roses, she read the note. It said: To Camila, saw these and thought you would like them, from Shawn Mendes. She awwed and put them in a vase. From behind the door, Shawn watched and was proud of himself. He was a step closer to winning his bet.

EXTRACT 4:

Shawn nodded his head. "Camila, I have to tell you a secret," She looked at him. "Okay you know how I've been acting weirdly lately?" Shawn explains.. "What, you mean like when you insulted me in Spanish, dressed all stupid then screamed when you saw the reflection, followed me around everywhere and flirted with a guy because I asked you to? Nooooooooo, that wasn't at all weird," Camila said sarcastically. Shawn looked down in embarrassment. "Yeaaaah, you see, I was acting like that because I was trying to win a bet, I made with Cameron and jack" shawn explained. She looked confused. Camila was so cute when she was confused. "What kind of bet?" she asked him. "The bet were to get a girl to like you," Shawn continues. "Well, who was that girl?" she questioned. Was it just him or did she look… jealous? Shawn panicked and blurted out. "Uh, she has pretty dark hair and is Spanish," Camila looked upset. "Oh, so you like Lauren then. Well, you can go tell her now," (SHUT UPDJFJ) Shawn slapped a hand to his forehead. "No, it's you Camila!!!" he admitted She looked at him. "Whaa-?" Shawn sighs. Maybe he should have been scared. "I really really like you Camila," She hugged him tightly. "Really Shawn?" Shawn nodded. "Do you want toa go to that new food place tonight?" He asked. She looked like she was thinking about it. "Eres un idiota, pero frente Shawn seguro," she said. He gave her a confused stare. "I knew you couldn't speak Spanish!" Camila said triumphantly. Shaw looked at her. "Yes and Shawn? I really like you too," she said

EXTRACT 5:

Shawn smirked and went to sit next to Camila. They looked at each other, thinking the same thing because they were so connected. Their friends all hated them being lovey-dovey so they made it into a game. They acted like a perfect couple when they were around. Their reaction were always hilarious. Shawn started off. He gazed into Camila's eyes and pretended he was in a Twilight scene. "Hello Camila-bear, I missed you so much," Shawn said realistically as possible. (manibear is shaking) Camila played along and sighed. "I know, Shawnykins. It's been almost 5 whole minutes. I can't possibly go that long without getting lost in your dreamy chocolate eyes," Camila put in a dreamy sigh for good measure. Their friends are staring at then horror- struck, like they want to look away but couldn't. Yes! It was working! "I'm so happy you feel the same way! I was worried you had…" Shawn paused dramatically. "…forgotten about me," Camila gasped in horror. "I would do anything for you, MiMi," Shawn finished. Camila frowned at the nickname, knowing Shawn was trying to annoy her. "Oh Shawn!" she sighed. "Camila!" He copied. They both leaned in shared a short kiss then pulled away, looking at their reactions. Lauren had her mouth half open and was staring into space, horrified. Normani had her eyes covered and was yelling, "Make it stop! Please make it stop!". (lauren baby i’m gonna get you out of there) Ally held onto Dinah liks a cuddly toy and Dinah looked like she wanted to push her away but was too busy trying to breathe, like if she found out her favourite lipstick was discontinued. Shawn's friends the girls were holding a hand to their mouth while the guys looked like they wanted to be put out their misery. Shawn couldn't take it anymore. He and Camila began laughing hysterically, clutching their abs and holding tears of laughter.

EXTRACT 6:

Shawn swiped the don't answer button and tried to go back to sleep. Then his phone beeped loudy. He sighed and read the text. It was from his girlfriend Camila. To: Shawn From: Camila shawn sum1 at window help! He read it and quickly hopped out of bed and ran all the way to the Fifth Harmony house to the bedroom Camila was in without shoes on. She was carrying a lamp in one hand and her phone in the other hand and was hiding behind the door. Shawn walked forward and pur his hand on her shoulder. She jumped but then She hid behind Shawn as he crept slowly towards the window. Camila whisperers something to him, terrified. "Th- they wer- were tapping o- on the window, then I s-saw a human sh- shadow across the wall," Shawn locked the window and lied on the floor while Camila was on the bed for the night. she fell asleep and Shawn took out his new iPhone. (rich king) He said on twitter that he was looking for a bodyguard for his girlfriend and that interviews were gonna be at his mansion at 2:00, tomorrow. (he prolly put it on craigslist or something) He looked at Camila. She looked so peaceful and cute when she was sleeping. Stupid cute Camila. Suddenly she started turning around in her sleep and got a few sweat droplets on her forehead. Gross, wait, was she having a nightmare? I have got to wake her up! Shawn stood up and ran over to her. "Camila!" he whisper- yelled.

[psycho-slytherin]

Strangers ch. 26

You see Xiumin again, and the drama is off to an interesting start.

Pairing: Yoongi x (female) Reader

Word count: 2.4k

Genre: Fluff

|mlist|

<–– Prev   Next ––>

Yoongi freezes. “Wh-what?”

His bewilderment is so adorable that you can’t possibly keep from laughing. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding, oh my god.”

Yoongi exhales loudly, as though he had been holding his breath. “Dumbass, you scared me.”

You pout. “Is the idea of kissing me that terrifying?” You’re joking, of course.

When Yoongi speaks his voice is low, half strangled.

“I mean, we’ll both only be acting, right?”

You blink once, twice. “Right, only acting...” you scratch your head, chuckling weakly. His flat tone is off-putting somehow. “Man, once this drama starts your fans are gonna keep going off–”

“Keep?”

Uh-oh. You instantly realize your mistake, backpedaling clumsily.

“I mean, I just meant, uh... you know, I guess ARMYs can be kind of... harsh? I’m only assuming,” you rush to add.

“Y/n... have you been getting hate from our fans?”

You gulp. Yoongi doesn’t follow you on Twitter, since he’s only online with the BTS account. If he hears the type of comments you’ve been receiving, he’ll worry, and his dorky ass might actually try to do something about it.

“Are you kidding? Of course not. I’d tell you if anything was bothering me,” you laugh, booping his nose playfully. The falsehood tugs at you, wrestling with your conscience, but you refuse to let it get to you. Of every lie you’ve told, this one isn’t bad.

“Anyways, I have hella homework and now that I have, you know, my own bed again...” you shift your weight from side to side. “Thanks again for letting me stay with you by the way.” I was in a bad place, the worst place, and you gave me everything. “I really appreciate it.”

Yoongi reaches out and rubs his thumb against the Starry Night bead resting at the hollow of your throat. “Of course, y/n, what are friends for?”

“Nerd.” You smile widely before shoving your hands in your coat pockets. “I’ll see you later then?”

“Yeah.”

Too jittery to ask for a ride, you turn and begin walking the familiar road back home.

“Y/n, wait!” You feel Yoongi grip your elbow and when you turn around, you very suddenly find your face an inch from his, his eyes devouring you, and his lips so, so, close...

Yoongi smirks. “Kidding. Catch you later, y/n.”

You swallow. “Right. Later.”

You spin on your heel and hightail it back to your apartment. What was that? Did he try to kiss you? Was he getting you back for teasing him earlier? And why, oh why did some very small part of you really want to kiss him, want to press your lips against his and–

Idiot. No. No no no no. If anyone in the whole wide world is off limits, then it’s him. Yoongi. The man with the big “DO NOT TOUCH” on his heart, so to speak. You can’t like him, never ever, and certainly not now, at the peak of his career.

Besides, you only felt that way because he was an idol, right? Right? Up until you met the guy, all you wanted was to marry him. And, of course, after acting out that scene for the audition– it’s only natural.

You shake your head, remembering the shiver that ran down your spine when his lips neared yours. What was happening to you? As you lie in bed, half asleep, your thoughts drift to what your life has become.

“Bitch.”

“Slut.”

“Whore.”

“Talentless, worthless, pathetic.”

The voices swirl around you, the insults flying like gusts of wind, and they tear at your frame, shoving you, forcing you to your knees and when you try to speak it feels like your words are sucked straight out of your lungs.

“Stop it!” You try to scream, but no noise leaves your mouth. “I didn’t do anything wrong! Stop it!”

“You touched him.”

“You talked to him.”

“You kissed him.”

“He’s ours!”

“Ours, ours, ours, ours, o-”

“Fame, flashlight– gi-give it to me!”

“Aah!” You bolt upwards, chest heaving, your forehead damp with sweat. You reach for your phone to shut off the alarm– your neighbors probably hate you by now.

Ugh, you’re sleepy, but you’ve got things to do. What else is new? It’s been... what, the third day in a row that you’ve gotten four hours of sleep? As you stand up, you feel a sudden dizziness. A few seconds later it passes, and you can go about your day.

And by day, you mean coffee. After you quit working at the cafe, your daily dose of caffeine had become more expensive– to the point where you finally gave in and bought a cheap coffee machine. Which, of course, has suddenly decided to stop working.

You watch the machine sputter and gasp, resulting in two drops of coffee and one headache. Great. You start filming for Moon Over the Sea today and you really can’t afford any mishaps. Especially if you’re filming with Yoongi. 

No mishaps means caffeine. Caffeine means cafe. Cafe means...

Xiumin.

You shake your head and breathe deeply– you’re going to have to see your ex eventually, and your old cafe is on the way to the studio. It’s the only place you can stop if you want to get there on time.

The familiar bell jingles and you’re once more drawn into your old life– a life before you met Min Yoongi; a life when your love of BTS stemmed from music videos and interviews, not games and banter; a life when you were only an overworked acting student and not despised by thousands of ARMYs. A life when Xiumin was nothing more than a friendly coworker.

You walk to the counter, where a painfully familiar head of hair is making a drink.

“Hi, can I help y- oh.” His voice makes your heart stutter, because it’s Xiumin, he made you breakfast and visited you in the hospital and cheated on you with a girl he called beautiful...

In your head you’re punching him. Out loud, you merely steel yourself– “Hi, can I get a double espresso?” No please. He doesn’t deserve a please.

“Uh...” Xiumin swallows nervously, and you feel a small rush of satisfaction. “Yeah. It’s been a while, huh?”

Your smile remains frozen on your face. “My double espresso?”

Xiumin doesn’t move. “Y/n, come on, talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. My espresso would be nice though.”

“I miss you.”

At his words you expect pain, you expect longing– you expect to want him back. And yet...

Your mind wanders to Yoongi. When you told him what happened with Xiumin, you saw his face: pure rage was reflected in those dark eyes.

“You deserve better,” he’d said during one of your long winded, alcohol-fueled rants.

He was right; you did deserve better. Is that why, now, you don’t feel a twinge in your heart on seeing your ex?

“Y/n, please, come back to me. Things can be just like how they were.”

His voice shakes you from your stupor, and your careful grip on your emotions loosens.

“How they were? Tell me, Xiumin, how exactly were things? Because I seem to recall a supposedly monogamous relationship in which we told each other everything, and I’m guessing you only recall how desperate you were to get your dick wet.”

Xiumin opens his mouth and you raise your eyebrows in response. “Answer me, I dare you.”

“You know, I could sue you for my birds,” he growls finally. “And my car. That’s property damage. I could sue you for every penny you’ve made from those ads, and that music video.”

You pause. What is he talking about? “Property damage?”

He scoffs. “Don’t act like you don’t know. You ruined my car!”

Delusional. “Whatever you say, Xiumin. Can you actually do your job and give me my coffee now?”

With an icy glare, he thrusts your espresso into your hands. As you saunter out, you turn and call to him: “Enjoy losing the one person in your life who could actually remember your name!”

He flips you off in response and, with that weight off your shoulders, your gait turns sprightly as you make your way to the studio. You arrive at 8am on the dot, and spy a familiar figure among the many milling around and awaiting direction.

You approach and tap him on the shoulder. “Yoongles~”

“Huh?” He turns around and it’s not him, it’s a face that’s very much not your Yoongi, it’s someone else, and you called him Yoongles–

“Oh! I’m, uh, sorry!” You turn and scuttle, cheeks flaming; you just bothered what must have been Yoongi’s body double, you’re such an idiot.

“You too, hm?” You hear a low chuckle and notice the real Yoongi leaning against a wall. “You’re the fifth person who thought he was me. Shit, I was confused when I saw the guy!”

You laugh with embarrassment. “Some friend I am.”

“Hey,” Yoongi leans forward and boops your nose. “You’re a good friend. Really.”

You blush. A world famous idol thinks you’re a good friend, even when all you’ve done is lie and pretend. How did you get so lucky? “Shut your face hole, nerd,” you reply, poking him before you get too sappy.

Yoongi opens his mouth to reply when you hear two loud claps echoing through the loud studio.

“Okay! Hello, cast and crew of Moon Over the Sea! I’m your director, Avery.” An elegant women with a curious accent speaks over the general chatter.

“You may notice I have an accent– that’s because I was raised in America. Now, we’re on a tight schedule so I expect all of you to work hard and productively for the next for months to make this drama the best it can be!”

The present company claps politely. “She seems nice,” you whisper.

“Here’s to hoping,” Yoongi murmurs in reply.

Avery consults a clipboard. “Now, for the scenes today I will need the following actors.” She reads aloud a list of names and you only tune in at “...Min Yoongi, and l/n y/n. The rest of the cast may go home– we’ll need everyone tomorrow, so be here bright and early.”

The studio empties out and the hair and makeup crews retreat to their respective areas. There are several extras and about a dozen named actors left after the movement ceases. Some of them you even recognize. You feel more than a little starstruck– you’re definitely the least attractive person here.

“As you know, this drama is inspired by the time-honored classic of Pride and Prejudice,” Avery continues. “Our leads will be played by Park Bo-young and Park Hyung-sik–” she nods at the familiar-looking actors and you blink hard, half blinded by the physical perfection. “– but the rest of you still have important stories to tell.”

You nod along, enraptured, and you see Yoongi smirk at you. He’s probably used to all the glitz and glam, but you’re savoring it– who knows how long it’ll last?

“For that reason, we’re filming Kim Ji-woo and Moon Sung-min first.” You jump at the summons of your character. “The scene is set for their first meeting, at the Sung family ball. I expect all actors and extras to be in costume and in character in the next half-hour. Go!”

Half an hour later you find yourself well dressed and slightly out of breath in a very realistic studio ballroom. Yoongi, infinitely more well dressed and not at all out of breath, nudges you.

“You look pretty,” he whispers.

“Not in comparison to literally everyone else,” you reply.

Yoongi looks like he’s about to say something  when Avery approaches, barking orders at extras. “You and you, there. You, go there. Bo-young, you play Hyeon, and you’re y/n’s younger sister, so stand a bit behind her. You know your lines, yes? Good. Let’s start with Bo-young’s line. Ready, and... action!”

There’s a clap and the cameras begin rolling. In the grandly decorated ballroom, the extras talk quietly amongst themselves. You and Bo-young stand tall in your dresses.

“I do believe Moon Sung-min is looking at you, sister,” Bo-young says teasingly.

You glance up momentarily and catch Yoongi’s eye. He’s gazing at you intensely, eyes alight with interest. 

You quickly blush and look away. “You’re mistaken. He’s far above us–”

“Which is why you should talk to him. Imagine the look on Mother’s face when she sees you with one of the wealthiest men here.”

“Hyeon!” you laugh. “Please, I could never!”

“Doesn’t seem like you’re going to have a choice, Ji-woo. He’s coming over~” Bo-young sings. “I’m going to go dance with the others. Have fun!”

“Sister–”

It’s too late, the fake crowd has swallowed her whole, and suddenly Yoongi is right in front of you and every cell in your body feels tense, nervous, as if it really is your first time meeting him.

“Hello. Miss Kim, yes?”

You feel your cheeks heat up at his voice.

“Y-yes,” you reply, sweeping your skirts in a deep curtsy. “And you must be Mr. Moon Sung-min. Are you enjoying the ball?”

Yoongi’s voice dips low, laced with longing. “Much more now, I think.”

“Cut! Great, guys.” Avery’s voice draws you back to reality, back to a world where the man in front of you isn’t meant for you. “Let’s take it from the top– that chemistry was crackling. I’m sure we’ll get it perfect in the next few takes.”

Suddenly an assistant holding a buzzing phone scurries up to Avery and hands it to her. With a nod of apology to the cast, she answers.

“Hello? Yes, this is she... What? Hang on, we have that area scheduled for filming on those dates. Who–” Avery’s voice turns icy. “I understand. What other times are available...? Oh, you’re kidding. Okay. Okay. Yes, crystal clear. Thank you, goodbye.”

As she hangs up she sighs deeply. “This is gonna mean a lot of emails.”

“What happened?” You ask.

“We have a number of outdoor scenes scheduled in a few weeks and we reserved an area for filming, but someone bought out the space. They can move our time, but... it’s a pain. We’ll have to redraw the filming schedule and move those scenes forward.”

“How forward?”

Avery grimaces. “Starting tomorrow. Congrats, Yoongi, y/n– we’re filming your first kiss tomorrow. Alright everyone, let’s get back to work!”

[carocat]

A quick reminder for men: Common events for you can turn into really scary situations for women in a snap. Case in point: This week I listed a clothes dryer on the Letgo app. Because it was a dryer, a neutral meeting location was impractical. I needed it taken out of my house.

To try to stay safe, I decided to only allow people to pick it up after 5 when my husband would be home. But a guy who works nights asked if he could come in the am instead; I said yes as long as you're here before husband leaves for work.

The next morning, buyer isn't here before husband leaves. I message and tell him not to come. He shows up 15 min later. In addition to being late, he has no dolly or help, despite the ad saying the dryer was in a basement & you'd have to remove yourself.

He says he will come back with help, I say after 5 would be great. He then asks if he could just see it real quick before coming back and bringing someone over, in case he doesn't want it. So, now I have a decision to make.

I quickly try to assess my likelihood of danger, as every woman has done so, so many times. It's instinct. First, what's his age? Late 60s, early 70s. He's tall but thin. Wearing a wedding ring. Hasn't smiled at me strangely or looked at me for too long. I make a judgment call.

Feeling like he's more likely to be safe than unsafe, and feeling badly about not letting him see the dryer, I invite him in. Once in the basement, he's POSITIVE he can get it out with just a LITTLE help he says, looking at me. Fuck it. I pick up a side.

Walk to the stairs is fine. We're sharing the work. With each stair, I'm feeling more and more of the weight. I'm sweating. Heaving. Pissed. Halfway up the stairs and it feels like he's doing NOTHING. And then I see it. The look on his face.

He's staring at me, hard. Right in the eyes, sly smile on his lips. My hair is matted to my forehead. I can't get a comfortable grip. I'm just about to ask him what's going on - is he even lifting? - when he starts to speak.

"Damn, girl. Look at you. Man, those thighs. Put em to work, huh? That sweat looks good on you. Workin thighs like that, I bet your husband is a happy man. C'mon, show me what you got." I was mortified. And I'm realizing I can't get out. He & a dryer I'm lifting are blocking me.

So I do what women do, lower my eyes, pretend to laugh a little, start lifting faster. The comments and staring hey worse but I try to block them out. As soon as I am free of the basement I walk straight past him to my phone, wait 5 seconds, and say, "honey, the buyer is here!"

And wanna guess what happened? He left without buying it. Was this guy going murder me? Probably not. But I'm not sure. Am I pissed I had to worry about being murdered in my own home because grandpa creeper likes sweaty women? Yeah. Fucker.

The point - other than my being pissed and wanting to tell people - is that events like this, even when we come out ok, take an emotional toll. I was scared. He left more and more of the weight on me & watched me squirm. And now I have one more "thing" that I have to worry about.

So men, if you want to be allies, then recognizing that assault is bad is just the minimum. For every sexual assault, there are thousands of events that don't lead to violence but which scare the shit out of us, especially after our "assessment" turns out to have been wrong.

And obviously, if you ever are in a woman's home alone, whether during a service call or an online sale like this, accept if she's home alone, she's likely done the assessment. Respect her space, don't do gross shit. The basics. Please.

UPDATE: This man just showed up at my house. It's 10pm. Husband answered doorbell, drunk guy mumbles "wrong house" & goes back to his truck. I looked out the window and saw it was him. Tomorrow I'll be here alone with my 4yo while my husband is at work. Terrified in my own house.

UPDATE 2: called the police, they were VERY helpful & said I'm in a great spot for rotating cars to sit outside as much as they can tomorrow. Going to see about taking my little one & spending the day at a friend's house tomorrow just in case. Thank you to everyone for support.

A final comment about this: when I was stuck on the steps with that dryer & he was saying that disgusting shit, I just wanted to escape. I was scared but was calculating how to get out of the situation. Later, as I typed up this story, my fear had given way to rage & disgust.

And then tonight, when he came back, any fantasies I may have harbored earlier while I was typing this story about telling him to fuck off, leave me alone, etc - ALL of those disappeared immediately. I saw him and felt nothing but terror. This wasn't a man who'd physically hurt

me. He didn't rape me. Never even touched n me, in fact. He just said gross shit as I struggled with a heavy appliance. Not that it was nothing, but in the grand scheme of things, my experience was nothing compared to the evil shit people do to each other every day. And yet what

I felt when I saw him tonight was nothing short of terror. I will never, ever, be one of those movie heroines who seeks revenge and stands up for herself to teach the bad guy a lesson. I'm the girl who starts crying & shaking so badly she can't say the words "that's him" clearly

And if I'm being honest, I'm ashamed of that. For all my marching and fist-waving and dreams about screaming at bastards like Kavenaugh in some restaurant one day, the truth is that in the moment, I crumbled. I cried when I typed this update & when I called the police.

The rage that I felt earlier when I told this story hay not have been productive, but it felt good. I enjoyed thinking that this rage would protect & strengthen me if this ever happened again. But then when he showed up, that rage turned to mist. Nothing had changed in me. There

was no newfound bravery or empowerment, no matter how much I wanted it to be so. And that's ok. I know it is ok to be scared. But I could've lived without having my fantasy disproven so quickly. It was warm & made me feel good about myself, and I'll miss it. So, attention you

asshole from letgo. It wasn't enough that you said those things & trapped me in my house & scared me & that my back is killing me now from holding that thing & moving it so fast. It wasn't enough that I'd never felt scared on my house before you showed up here tonight. On top of

all of that, you also took from me any hope that I would be one of those women who could turn fear to strength. I'm not one. But I would've liked to believe I was, & you took that from me, too. And damn it, fuck you for that, whoever you are. Just please, please don't come back.

NEXT DAY UPDATE: To all of the men on here pointing out what I did wrong to bring this on myself, please know I am taking articulate notes with your suggestions and cannot wait to follow your instructions and enjoy my new life of extreme safety

Also, lots more was said/done during the event that was utterly disgusting that I didn't discuss in detail here in order to avoid triggering others. Because that is yet another thing that women do instinctively to protect themselves and one another.

To the men who have reached out and told me they're listening to their wives & believing that this happens to them EVERY DAY - your stories warm my heart. And to the male allies on here standing up to other men while also seeking to improve yourselves - I fucking see and love you

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I felt your fear. I feel your fear. Just read this to my husband and got to the point where you (I) feel ashamed of not actually being a badass before I started crying.

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Thank you. It really did hurt to have to admit that to myself. Because when we combine that with the way that our fears impact our relationship dynamics (how many comments on here are about women waiting to do things until their husbands are around, as if we're

helpless children?) you're left with such weighty feelings of weakness and worthlessness. Am I really so unable to stand up for myself? Am I really someone who cries even when speaking to police/public? And I found that I had minimized some of those feelings after he left by

telling myself "never again. Next time I will be prepared, I'll defend myself, I will tell him he is a monster, etc." Except my lie was gone so quickly - that man stripped me of that already-small snippet of pride just by ringing my doorbell. How many other accomplishments will

I now need to achieve in my life to make up for this horrible feeling? Like I am unable to do anything without a trusty man around? That I am like some skittering kitten running from everything in sight, instead of a complex person with many facets to my personality, one of which

is the ability to take pride in and value myself? Because I tell you what, my friend, that was gone the second I realized that I almost peed my pants just from seeing his face. And my husband knew it and now so does everyone here. I don't like feeling this way.

Because I can tell myself all I want that I am Sara, Notre Dame graduate, attorney, published author, except when it counted I turned into Sara, the crying woman who peed down her own leg & who can't stand today because she hurt her back holding a dryer above herself for too long

And when it comes time for the NEXT guy who is looking for an easy mark, when he looks at me, which Sara will he see? And assuming it is the latter, am I actually INCREASING the chances of this happening to me again? And these thoughts will rob me of sleep for the near future.