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yojeongin · 3 years

Text

airbag | n.jm + l.jn

→ex fwb!na jaemin x reader | boyfriend!lee jeno x reader

genre/au: smut, angst, drama, fwb au, doomed romance

synopsis: growing tired of the life jeno has given you and finally reaching your limit after he once again put her over you; your final resort is to go back to the life he forced you to drop right next to jaemin for one last taste of happiness before your final decision.

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! cheating, alcohol, they’re all horrible people except jaemin, praise kink, nipple play, dry humping, fingering, oral, cumplay, creampie, rough sex, tit play, claim kink, cunt slapping, finger sucking, hair pulling kink.

word count: 18.6k | ao3

disclaimer: this is purely fictional; In no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol. read at your own discretion.

song(s): airbag— tablo, nobody— mitski, stuck in love— kim kyunghee, temblando— hombres g, el crucifijo — fobia

a/n: heyy I’m back ig >,< i wrote this last year for another group but I rather repost for the neos now with some fixing of stuff.

It kept buzzing. After hours upon hours, the damned cell phone kept buzzing. Was it not enough that the day was going both agonizingly slow that he kept asking for favors that in no way were meant to include you? It didn’t help that the fluorescent white lights shining above you kept blinding your gaze, causing you to look down; fidgeting with your cold fingers.

Your right leg kept on trembling, questioning why your superior had called you into his office right after it was your time to clock out. Not that you complained, the last place you wanted to be at right now is home where you knew things would easily shift between you and Jeno. By the looks of Jeno’s messages, Eunja was at the apartment wanting to feed off whatever you and Jeno had left (in most cases, your energy). It was bad enough that he didn’t do anything when his entire days were free, but when she was there— the essence of spoiled rich kids showed off and only belittled your leftover ego which the two were deflating little by little ever since knowing them.

Sighing at the thought of her being there for another day was only making your chest burn, wanting nothing but to stomp your feet against the spotlessly clean marble floor that decorated the higher floors in the building. Scrunching your face up in annoyance when you felt the buzzing again. Frustration got the best of you, allowing your hand to go inside your slack’s pocket and pulling out the device that even now that you’re holding kept buzzing.

‘y/n bring something to eat pls!!’ ‘can you pass by and get us some soda, we finished it already’ ‘baby!!! are you almost here? we’re hungry!’ ‘ja wants fries from ralphie’s bring her some’ ‘omfg weren’t you supposed to get out now?!’ ‘aish okay, take your time we found some of your sweet bread’

It hadn’t been a week that you had gone grocery shopping and most of the food was already gone. On top of that, it was always the same routine of them asking you to bring them food when they knew you were done with doing so. It has been years since you tried to be liked by the two. Even if Jeno was your boyfriend, things weren’t quite the same. Nonetheless, the least he could’ve done was add a please to everything he ordered. It was exactly that: an order and not a question.

As if your sole life purpose was to become their damn Ubereats whenever they called for you without any sort of tip or charge for delivery. In fact, they didn’t even pay for the food! You were worse than an Ubereats driver, at least they were granted an adequate pay compared to the free labor that would only grant you an: ‘Oh… but the Ralphie’s near here isn’t good. I guess your salary isn't cut to go to a farther one.’ To be followed by Jeno ignoring the entire scene to avoid conflict.

“Ms. y/l/n? Please come in.” At the sweet sound of your superior’s secretary’s voice; your head jolted up, looking at her before returning the smile and leaving your previous spot. Nodding in response after standing up to follow her, you kept your phone at hand, rushing to turn on the ‘do not disturb’ feature— just to get rid of Jeno for a few more minutes.

To be exact the waiting room did seem fairly far from the Superior’s office. Having to go through cubicles of stressed salary workers that analyze the mistakes they had made on the blueprints. Just to avoid being screamed at by the superior himself. It didn’t help that they all kept staring at you and Adina while you passed by, their stares making you fear that maybe, just maybe, this was the end of your easily given career.

You couldn’t say you weren’t scared of the superior. Of course you were, he was your ultimate boss after all, but never to the extent and distress these people were facing. Even if you had to visit him often whenever your floor manager deemed your blueprints and propositions adequate. So, was he that bad?

Her knuckles fell gracefully against the dark wooden door. It wasn’t closed, only slightly agape, enough to know you were going inside even without his words. His confirmation was still valid, therefore once his low husky voice told Adina and you to come in, she pushed the door further open. Signaling with her hand to go inside as her other hand held the handle to the door, closing it behind you. Leaving the both alone.

“Have a seat, y/n.” It was rather lifeless, he kept on looking through files and signing the ones highlighted in yellow. Writing down words you couldn’t see from your position. It didn’t take long until he placed his pen down and looked up at you with a blank expression. Out of custom, you broke a small smile, tight-lipped which only grew when he reciprocated the smile.

A sigh left his nostrils, back against the chair, and fingers intertwining. “You seem a bit tense… don’t worry, it's nothing bad.” Sure enough, it eased you, but even those words could have a different meaning for him than to you.

“Jungwan was speaking rather highly of your most recent Blueprint. The plan for the new mall—“ He could tell that made you feel better about being in his office. Your shoulders relax as you try to hide your ever-growing smile. “It’s a very interesting piece that will definitely get you recognized across the entire country, y/n. I do have to say that, but—“

‘But’ a but was never good in this field…

“Wouldn’t you want your work to be recognized internationally as well?” There it was: the hook to his essay. A horrible hook but it created anticipation for those already nervously intrigued.

You didn’t think about it. Of course, you wanted to be known internationally, summer had turned five years since you started working at that company. Was it not for Jeno’s father’s recommendation, you probably wouldn’t be there so easily straight out of college.

Many of your former classmates still struggled to maintain a job or even find one in their respective fields. So upon hearing your superior’s catching words, you felt the joy rush through you. “I’d very much like that.” Your smile was wide now, cheeks threatening to heat up from the stretched and aching face muscles if he kept on throwing compliments and interesting questions like this, your way.

Chuckling at your childish look, he nodded. “As you’ve probably heard, our company has begun a partnership with ‘FR-EE” You zoned out what had followed. Of course, you heard about it, that’s all your coworkers talked about lately. Despite many not seeing the purpose of working with a Latin American company, they also believed it would be a great start to their recognition— recognition that they craved after being in this firm for more time than you have.

Was it not for your time spent on working with your Mall blueprints, perhaps you would’ve worked something out to offer your superior now that he was right in front of you.

“So?” “Huh?”

God, you idiot.

Blinking at your first mistake, you shifted on the edge of your seat, trying to recollect what you did hear. “A-are you offering me to consider the project?” You question trying to make him rehearse his words again without really asking him.

“I’m offering you to be the head of the project. I know you’re skilled when it comes to your knowledge of Spanish and your work speaks for itself when it comes to talent. FR-EE themselves are very unique with their work and after sending them your portfolio— you’re a very strong candidate… actually, they want you, specifically.”

His fingers had stopped holding each other. Instead, his hands flayed in the air as he kept talking about the project. You adored his words, they sounded so beautiful but at the same time so unrealistic.

Hell, making a blueprint for this new project could take months to a year and from what you heard, they needed the architect sent off already. You didn’t even have a plan or idea for this and the construction of the mall would start in less than a month. It was your project, your baby— you wanted to be there for it, not do something you weren’t quite passionate about.

“It sounds very promising, it does. I just don’t see why me specifically. The construction of the mall starts very soon and it is my first major project… I want to be here for it.” His smile dropped, it became a slanted grimace. “I understand it’s the start of it all, but wouldn’t it be better to have two starts?”

Leaning against his desk now, his eyes didn’t leave your face. “I like you, y/n… I do. You’ve been a great employee, always listening to criticism well, owning up to your mistakes, getting along well with other workers, and Mr. Lee’s recommendation seems to be the cherry on top.”

There it was. He acknowledges your effort in the office but not your struggles to get where you are now. Sure, Mr. Lee’s recommendation was held to a high standard given he’s in the top five richest men of the country but he’s also a supporter of the arts. Donating and investing in this firm specifically for most of the projects. If you didn’t know better, this man or anyone in this office could be sucking up to you as they know you’re openly dating Jeno. The man’s only child.

Of course, it didn’t mean everyone was like that. You’d have a few people hating you for it, believing you were truly undeserving of everything you got, especially the evident privileges. Some who’ve been here longer, hating the idea of you getting big projects with only five years of working there. Those who already had a plan for this project would only feel more defeated knowing their Superior was trying to give such a project to someone who didn’t even try to work on it nor cared for it.

“I don’t even have a plan or blueprint for it. I’ve been so focused on the mall that I didn’t dare consider this one. I don’t even have a working visa for it… Wouldn’t it be better to offer this to someone who is prepared?” Eyebrows kneaded, you looked at him, worried about what he’d say. You were trying to reject his offer the easiest and nicest way possible.

Sometimes rushing into power and recognition didn’t end well.

He nodded allowing more of his sighs to leave through his nostrils, sun-kissed tanned skin shining with natural oils. “Think about, please.” His eyebrows rose, looking at you in hopes that you would. “Think about it very well and let me know by next week so I can have FR-EE make the visa application on your behalf and have it ready in a month. Does that sound good?” You couldn’t do anything but nod, holding onto your sweater for self-comfort.

Standing from the stiff chair in which you only sat on the corner of, you walked to the door. Were you really going to consider it? You didn’t even want this but his words were either pushy or just very persuasive.

“Before you leave, make sure to send me a digital blueprint copy of the mall. I’ll make sure you’re still in charge in case you do decide to take my offer.” Turning to look at him, you nod at his words, turning the handle to open the door. “Yes, sir.”

Upon entering the heavy steel doors of the elevator, you cornered yourself by the buttons, rushing to press the closing doors button so you could stand in distress on your own. But the damned doors decided to punish you for being an entitled brat whose path has been easy so far and your only struggle is creatively.

“Wait, wait!” God, no— these doors couldn’t take their time any longer. Just as they began to shut, the squeaky clean black shoe came in between the doors. That ever so unforgettable chuckle made you shut your eyes, squeezing them until you hoped tears would spill.

“Were you trying to leave me out?” He was joking, his smile wide as he spoke to you. “Hey, Jaemin...'' Turning to look at him didn’t help you in trying to avoid him. “Uhh, no… I just didn’t see you coming this way.” He nodded, understanding what you meant. Standing straight beside you in joy compared to your moping slouching body, he couldn’t help but question what was wrong. Even his facial expression changed to one of worry.

Shifting to face you, your body barely standing on its own, his lips parted. “Did something happen?” You turned to look at him. You didn’t respond despite your words pushing against your lips to let them out. You opted to shake your head, straightening your body just to get him off your case.

“No, just a bit exhausted.” You smiled kindly to which he returned. “I imagine. Your building is going to start construction soon, how are you feeling?” His hands clung to the briefcase in his hands. He was only a paid intern who helped fix minor problems in the rough drafts and mainly worked as the coffee boy for your floor but he ported himself with pride. After all, the poor boy struggled to at least get that position after graduation. Not even, it took him multiple part-time jobs at food joints and local stores until just a year and a half to settle a job in the firm.

“Ah, I see… Perhaps you’d want to get some dinner? I’m off already, so?” He was so sweet. So tooth-achingly sweet and you hated it. Why did he always have to be like this? Even in college, he’d make you sick with it.

Giggling at his proposition, you shook your head looking at your feet. “That’d be nice but I have to send a digital copy of my blueprints to the big man and Jeno keeps pestering me to get home already so he probably wants something.” Your slanted smile didn’t satisfy him. He knew you weren’t looking forward to it but of course, he had no right to stop you.

Tight-lipped smile, he nodded bouncing on his heels. “Understandable, let me know if you change your mind though.” Smiling at you again, cocking his head to the side with perfect timing as the elevator dinged, opening the doors to your floor. Waving goodbye to him, you stepped out without a clue that he’d continue the chain of moping in the elevator, head clinging to the steel interior.

Even after years he couldn’t learn how to erase all that happened.

No one paid further attention to you; working on some paperwork and models to propose a better arrangement for a park. Going to your cubicle, the sight of the rolled-up prints your cubicle partner had worked on for the past four months began haunting you. This is what you were thinking about when your superior offered you to be the head of the FR-EE project. A project you didn’t know what it was about.

The countless hours Geunhye had spent on this print, going often to Mr. Kim, your floor manager, so he could give her feedback on something you assumed he already knew would be yours. Your body involuntarily dragged itself to them, fingers gracing the delicate paper. Was it not for the clanking of heels coming near your cubicle, you would’ve unraveled the magnificence your partner often creates.

“Oh great, he let you out already? What did he want to talk about?” A smile settled on her face, pushing her rolling chair to the side just to grab her prints and unroll them in front of you. It was what you expected: magnificence. Where would all that work go if you accepted your superior’s proposition? To hell, just like you would.

“Nothing major, just wants a digital copy of the blueprints.” Your voice was so down that she obviously could tell something was up, but given that your computer kept buzzing as iMessages was connected to it, she could only expect it was Jeno draining the life out of you.

“Ah… you’re off already, right?” You nodded, having her watch over your shoulder as you muted the computer and even turned on ‘do not disturb’ just so Jeno could shut up. “Yeah, wanted something?” You asked, locating your files of blueprints before finding the one for the mall.

Geunhye shook her head as if you were looking at her, “No, just wondering… did he say anything about who’s getting the promotion? You know working for the firm in Mexico?” Her smile rose again, you didn’t see it but you could imagine it through the way she spoke, she was ecstatic about it.

Swiveling in your seat to face her, you looked at her features. Smile staying on her face, waiting for your answer. “No, not really. He was just trying to get it over with. You know, a man of few words.” She nodded on her way to look at her prints. He wasn’t a man of few words, at least not with you, but you weren’t trying to brag about the situation to someone who wants what is being handed to you.

Turning back to your desk, you made a few last clicks to mail the prints to your superior. Letting a sigh silently leave your lips, you shut off all your devices, shoving them to your bag before pushing yourself off the seat to give out a simple ‘See you tomorrow.’ for Geunhye and speed walk to the elevator, hoping this time you could mope on your own.

From that point on forward, things went monotonously smooth. You began running the errands you told yourself you wouldn’t run for the sake of Jeno and Eunja, but here you were drowning their voices from your head with the blasting music on your Bluetooth. Driving from place to place just to get what they wanted. Yes, you complained but in the end, it was kind of clear who held all the strings here. At least to avoid conflict.

The city flashed by in scenes as you drove looking forward to singing in your head from time to time, adoring most when you held no thoughts. Those were the small moments in life that you never took for granted. They worked as your relaxation time and the only time you could fully have to yourself.

So whenever the familiar buildings kept piling up one by one, the clenching of your chest only tightened up on the daily. Feeling as if one of these days you’d completely come to your limit. Never did it ease until you fell asleep and only grew whenever your car was inside the building’s parking garage.

Flickering bright white lights that resembled the ones in your workplace along with the silence that rather than eased you, only made the pain grow. You hadn’t gotten out of the car after finding a spot.Going home had become dreadful and it was something you were extremely loathing as of now.

Hands clutching the steering wheel, looking ahead, and feet planted on the floor of your car— a fit broke loose. Abnormal noises that you only let out when upset were being voiced. Your feet instead of planted were slamming against the poor floor below them and your hands at most grasped your hair wishing to rip it out.

You truly did hate coming home. You hated seeing Jeno. You hated Eunja. You hated how messy the apartment was. You hated how loud it was. You hated the apartment. You hated them. You hated yourself.

If you hadn’t learned from previous experiences, by seeing the bags of minimum groceries— a groan escaped your lips knowing very well Jeno wouldn’t even dare take the elevator downstairs just to help you with the groceries. Pulling your metaphorically tough-girl panties up, you got out of the car and walked to the back to open the trunk. Was it not for the reusable bags in which you threw in most of the stuff without a care if they’d go up damaged, you would’ve struggled more than you already are. Besides, more than one trip would’ve gone at hand.

“Fucking hate them…” you whined to yourself the moment the first strap clung onto your forearm, feeling how heavy it was for no damn reason when all you were carrying were some stuff the two idiots upstairs had asked for. With the last bag in hand, pushing the button that automatically shuts the back door for you, and keys at hand to lock the car— you trudged inside the building. Ignoring the gray concrete of the garage and walking towards the glass room that separates the building and outdoors; seeing the change of location but not feeling.

All just as gloomy and dry.

For some reason, the lights inside the building were much brighter, almost similar to the ones at a hospital. The ones that blind you until you’re tired of them and either decide to leave the building or force yourself to ignore them and go on with your day as if they weren’t a bother… ironically.

The silence was overwhelming, not pleasant. You could feel the vibration of your feet against the carpeted hallway as you took the path towards the elevator. Jisung, the concierge, wasn't at his desk like usual. Perhaps his shift hadn’t started yet but despite that, you always seemed to miss his welcoming smile and words.

It became a custom at this point that he out of many people you met, was one to always comfort you with simple gestures. He was still in college and the boy was bright about his future, even when he handed you the mail and you peeked at his desk to look at his difficult work, he never found it to be a drag. Maybe if he was at his desk right now, he'd offer to help you with the bags to your apartment, but in the meantime, you have no choice but to fend for yourself.

Unlike the Divine Comedy in terms of Inferno, your hell rose rather than descending. As Dante had fallen from layer to layer seeing the worst; you ascended floor by floor. Feeling worse and worse. The gravitational contrast from the elevator going up working as the factor of discomfort like Dante’s was the fall. Fortunately, the ride up felt long and so did the walk down the corridor to your apartment door. Nonetheless the pretentious comparison stands.

Hesitance was only present the moment you came face to face with the black door in front of you. It was obvious what you would walk into and that small part of you that still cared for Jeno was only going to keep getting hurt.

Not even the ruckus of the television that was easily heard outside the flat was helping you try to form any other wholesome ideas of what was on the other side. Either way, you couldn’t stay out there for much longer, the burning scraping of the straps against your arms was causing harm and you couldn’t keep adding any more pain.

Fingertips forcefully pushing against the number pad to unlock the apartment, a defeated sigh left your lips the moment you saw how in shambles the living room and diner area were. Even the kitchen was a disgusting mess and the protruding smell of takeout was filling the whole section.

It didn’t help that when you opened the door, Eunja sat straddling Jeno’s chest and his hands rested on her exposed thighs. Only the flimsy cotton underwear she wore was separating their contact. Not even in your own home could you expect them to keep it a secret.

No, it doesn’t matter at this point.

Eunja didn’t bother getting off of him when the two heard you shut the door behind you. At this point, it was so common for you to find the two in this situation that she had given up trying to act like they hadn’t done anything (the smell of takeout wasn’t the only thing lingering). Jeno on the other hand, pushed her off of him, trying to stand from his position. Not noticing how nonchalant you had just turned your back to them to properly lock the door, having the hallway light barely shine on you.

“Hey!“ “Hey…” your soft and elongated greeting as he came to you.

“Did you cook anything?” You questioned turning to look at him this time as the smell of something burnt added to the stench of takeout. It was weird; lately, he had been nicer to you. Not that he already wasn’t but maybe the guilt only grew by the minute and this month he was getting overwhelmed by it. He shook his head with a tight-lipped smile trying to ignore the burnt cake in the trash can that the two tried to bake but failed extremely miserably.

Walking closer to you and taking the bags from your noticeable aching arms. “Thank you…” You whispered, placing your workload on the kitchen bar to rub at the marks done by the straps. “No, we’re going to order pizza instead.” He comments, watching you scowl at the choice of consumption.

From the background you heard Eunja scoff at your expression, sitting up from her position on the couch and walking to the high chairs in front of the bar where you left your items. “What do you prefer to eat, princess?” Her knees kept bumping against the wall, her face came in contact with the palm of her hand as she watched you and Jeno put away the things they asked for. “Perhaps a better meal… We've eaten nothing but takeout food.” You answered looking at her with the same look of disgust she held for you.

Eunja groaned, head tilting to pout at Jeno who didn’t give her a response of solidarity. “It’s not our fault that we don’t put on weight as easily by eating this way. We’ll get you something from the healthy section or something, okay?” She had obtained what she wanted: to cause frustration inside of you, causing you to turn and glare at her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“What do you think it means, architect?”

Defiance laced in both of your tongues, glares straight forward as you both pierced each other. Jeno to avoid the conflict behind him as the two of you began your daily bickering continued putting away the groceries you had bought for them. Was he guilty in a way? Yes.

He knew how tired of him you had grown but still, you were there getting things for him and Eunja even when the two of you were full-on bickering ready to kill each other. Knowing how bored you were growing and how easy life was with you, he had to find a way to keep you with him regardless.

“Why are you even worrying about me? Worry about your trust funds or lack thereof?!” You growled at Eunja as she had risen from her seat, walking closer to you angered at how you had just called out the tip of her personal problems out of spite. Gasping at your response, the redness of her face was now glowing. “Jeno, say something!” She whined, turning to the man whose head was now hanging low in hatred of how easily she had involved him, wanting nothing but to just put away the groceries. Rolling your eyes was all you could do now that she was bringing him in.

Jeno didn’t want to say anything. He didn’t even want to be in this situation but he was always dragged into it and with trying to keep you with him as long as he could, it also didn’t help that he didn’t want to upset his best friend.

So what would he do? Of course like the idiot he is, he took longevity over intimacy, looking at you with puppy eyes hoping you’d fall submissive to him like you once used to.

Scowling at his actions, with your phone at hand and confused as to what he wanted. “The fuck are you looking at?” You questioned, arms crossed over your chest, not letting the expression fall from your face. With a sigh, he took your hand into his, pleading in silence to just drop it as if it was your fault it all started.

“Just please drop it… Order anything you want, I’ll pay for you but just don’t keep on—”

“Keep on what?!”

It was so obvious what he wanted to say. He was blaming you for this just because she whined like the five-year-old he used to know so long ago but now you were all adults and it seems neither he or she understood that.

“y/n-ie…” He wanted to whine too, throw a tantrum, or whatever but what he did know is that things were rather peaceful without you there. “Just don’t continue arguing, It’s not going anywhere and it doesn’t look good on you.” His lips pouted as if what he just had said was the correct thing to say.

Looking between the two as Eunja grinned and Jeno pleadingly looked at you, you shook your hand, letting his hand drop from your own. It was always the same damn shit with them. No matter how wrong one of them could be, they’ll always have each other's backs and how things have gone today apart from your boss’ offer, you weren’t going to stand for it.

Shaking your head at the two of them with a smile and laugh leaving your lips, you took your purse from the bar. Said action was causing panic inside of Jeno, questioning where it had gone wrong to cause you to grab your stuff. “Not even in my damn house can I have a second of peace.”

As long as you were only storming into the mess of a room you both shared, he was fine. It wasn’t until he saw you going to the door and sliding into the most comfortable shoes you had at the front of your home that he began chasing you around like a lost puppy.

“No, wait! Where are you going?!” Distress laced Jeno’s voice, following behind you, watching all your actions. “You’re both so fucking infuriating and exhausting. I literally can’t bear being near either of you..” foot sliding inside the shoe as you pulled your phone out of your pocket. “And I don’t plan on dealing with you two tonight.” Dialing the number you knew too well after all this time, you placed your phone against your ear and cheek hoping the other line would open quickly.

Walking around the front door, your shoulder knocked into his— leaving the lingering pain on you and him. To avoid apologizing as you weren’t really sorry, your eyes only glared into his, making him become smaller in his spot.

Jeno didn’t try to hold you off, he just watched you walk outside the apartment with loose-fitting flats and your purse strap resting against the aching arm he didn’t try to aid earlier to which he aided his aching shoulder instead.

The stomping of your flat cladded feet against the carpeted halls was annoying you, rushing to put them on properly to which you failed to make them comfortable so all you could feel was the elastic clinging onto your ankles.

To say the least, you weren’t wrong about Jeno and Eunja being exhausting. To an extent, you could tolerate them but it was coming to the point in which you couldn’t handle being around them anymore. They repulsed you and this small discussion, though it might seem like it wasn’t pleasant, was a god-given gift knowing you could be away from them again.

Home wasn’t home anymore.

“Hello?”

The ringing on the other line had stopped, allowing you to feel at ease; stopping in your tracks before reaching the elevator. “Jaem? Are you busy right now?” Your voice was soft and meek, lifting your left arm to where the strap of your purse could uncomfortably be arranged against your shoulder. Continuing your walk to the elevator, it had just dinged signaling the opening of the steel doors before you.

Jaemin on the other line cleared his throat, looking around his place in hopes you would ask to meet up. “Uhh… no, not at all. Is something up?” He waited for your response, the static silence of the elevator and the dinging. He wasn’t sure if you were leaving your building or already in his and going up the stairs to his apartment but that was a far fetched idea.

You haven’t been in his apartment complex since a little after you started dating Jeno, doubtfully you would remember what floor let alone which apartment number and combination it was.

“You still up for dinner?”

A chuckle. That’s what left your lips as you lifted your head to see if the front desk was occupied. It was; Jisung was sitting there with a wide smile upon hearing your voice. Was it not for the call he would’ve spoken loudly but instead he smiled and waved at you as you left for the garage.

Smiling to himself, Jaemin bit his thumb in a sort of excitement. “Yeah, totally. Where do you want to meet?”“Your place.”

It felt static, the silence flooding his home with only the sound of cars driving by. “That’s okay, right?...” Stuttering worry in your voice caused him to break out of it. Nodding as if you could see him. “Yeah! Yeah, that’s fine… I’ll order some take out.” Gulping down his embarrassment, he could still faintly hear your giggle whilst you opened the door to your car, hopping into it with only one place in mind.

“I hope you have some alcohol at hand, I’d hate for you to get something greasy and not even treat me to a cold beer.” The ambient was obviously thick. You two knew that already.

“Calm down, Ai. I have enough drinks for us.”

He didn’t want to say it, in fact it came out naturally. Natural as in the ghost of the past had taken over his speaking and muttered the word.

He shouldn’t have called you ‘Ai’ not after how bitter the last time he said it sounded. Looking down at his feet he could only come to the conclusion that he had gotten carried away. Perhaps saying the word was reassuring him of the stiff silence.

“I’m not too far. Same pin, right? 0705?” Your brilliant memory made up for your disregard of the nickname. He didn’t want to admit it but it actually felt painful having you ignore something that once meant quite a lot.

Clearly, many unresolved issues were still on the surface.

In order to hide his thoughts, Jaemin chuckled letting you know it was right. “Yep! Guess I need to stop undermining you. I’ll let you go, I have to order the food.” He didn’t even let you mutter goodbye. In fact Jaemin was already feeling some heaviness weighing him down with just talking to you longer than those quick coffee and copy run-ins at the firm where all you two could say was a quick hello and ask how each other’s day was going.

To be quite honest— there was so much you two haven’t known since graduation. You two are practically strangers once again.

You couldn’t deny your thoughts were eating you up even more. Why would he even think calling you that once again was okay? What had gone through his head to think he could just bring it up again? Despite you going to his place again many years later, you couldn’t stop feeling guilty— as if you were betraying Jeno. Fuck, you even argued over takeout and now you’re going to eat it with someone Jeno can’t stand to see.

The hues of the sky were getting darker by the minute and the street lights were turning on, making the traffic lights seem more brighter than they just were. The bright red turned into the neon green, directing you towards his apartment building. Quite honestly you were surprised he still hasn't moved out. From what you remember it wasn’t big enough, he had to move around a lot just to walk from the bed to the kitchen in the tiny studio.

A part of you wanted him to say “Oh, it’s a new building.” But that same selfish part that was driving you towards the building in hopes to at least have comfort in him, was glad that he didn’t tell you those words. There was a sense of peace to know he hadn’t moved out and his pin number was still the date you two met on. Even if it meant that he was clinging onto empty air.

Taking a last right onto the parking lot in front of the building, you didn’t find it difficult to get a parking spot. After all, most of the people who stayed in this building were students, elderly, and those with part-time jobs, making it difficult to afford a car— let alone fill the spots. Naturally though, a few cars would be spread around to fill in some gaps. At least you were lucky enough to fill the one next to his.

Looking back to grab your purse, seeing Jeno’s sweater caused something to spark in you. Whether it was guilt or fear, you couldn’t pin it. It’s not like you were going to do anything with Jaemin. It was only a friendly dinner with an old friend that you lost because of— because of Jeno.

That was enough to set you off. The guilt that rummaged your chest was now filled with anger you felt against him. You could just imagine him shrugging after you left and going back to Eunja straddling him, as if there was nothing wrong with it. With a huff, you took the sweater, throwing it to the floor. Hoping a demon from under the passenger’s seat would swallow the sins that sweater held.

Clutching the strap of your purse, you opened the door, getting out of the car in a rush that you couldn’t quite explain. The cars kept driving by, not allowing the crosswalk light to turn green. Sure it didn’t work that way but something in your chest made it all seem like that.

In the moment you swore that the feeling of desperation and greed was to catch up with Jaemin but thinking about it now, it was obvious you missed him and his comfort. There was a safe haven when you were with him, something that not even Jeno could ever fill.

Your steps were heavy the moment the light turned green, speed walking towards the entrance of the building and rushing up the stairs. Some type of regret did come the moment you easily became exhausted when going up. You still cursed him for not choosing a building with an elevator, but after all it was an older building.

“God, why doesn’t he just move…” Uttering to yourself as you took a hold of the railing, fearing that you’ll fall back if you don’t grab it this time. The walk was tiring, only he would want to live on the fourth floor but considering the time he rented it out, it was fairly cheap given that no one wanted to live up there and struggle with furniture. Once again all he had was his mattress and clothes. Thinking about it now… Was it really worth moving into the big city, Jaemin?

You wanted to knock, you wanted your knuckles to vibrate against the wooden door or even ring the doorbell next to your head but the familiar feeling that you had buried so long ago was rising from the dead. Pushing away all you felt as you looked at the pin pad, your fingers not even hesitating when punching in the numbers, feeling the familiar bump of the keys against your pads.

Upon hearing the click of the door and the little red dot turn green, despite your eyesight focused on your feet, the familiar rumbling chuckle welcomed you in. Causing your head to lift itself up, firstly noticing the warming smile.

“Welcome home, Ai.”

“Sorry the food isn’t here yet, I ordered some fried chicken since you wanted beer and well… go on, sit down.” He was smiling widely for your liking. Perhaps all this time you thought the guilt was from coming here after fighting with Jeno and knowing he didn’t want you here ever again but to be completely honest, it was the guilt of bitterly kicking Jaemin around the curb like the unwanted puppy he was at the time. He still had his boyish charm and… it wasn’t good.

Regaining composure, you shook your head while you took off your shoes at the front of his door. Was it not because you saw those familiar butterfly slippers he had gotten you the night you had stepped on a mud puddle a night after drinking— you would’ve gone bare foot.

Jaemin seemed to have noticed your disdain for the slippers, smiling at you when you turned to face him. He could’ve said something, an excuse as to why he hadn’t thrown them out after years, but here he was warmly smiling at you as he walked to the fridge, pulling out two cans of beer.

“Your place looks bigger than last time I saw it, did you do something?” You question upon sliding the slippers on, feeling the softness of the material. Jaemin nodded as he handed you your can, walking towards the small couch against the wall next to the kitchen. “Decluttered. I figured I would get rid of the dinner table and just get a coffee table.” Yeah, that was it, but something else was missing.

Looking around as you set your can on a coaster he had laying around, your eyes began searching for what he was missing. Upon analyzing, the posters he had on his walls were gone. His books as well and that’s when the small shelf you three had built up was missing, even the butterfly figurines he collected were gone.

“You got rid of your mattress, huh? What? Cum stains ruined it?” You were only joking, you couldn’t bring yourself to question why he had gotten rid of them. Reminiscing on your past words, you’d hate to think it was because of you. It honestly would ruin you if you were the reason he lost track of his own folktales.

Jaemin laughed, covering his face in embarrassment. “It’s not like that!” He’d try to defend. “Oh come on, after everything and your thing for creampi—” You had to catch yourself. You haven’t been here for less than ten minutes and you were already ruining it all.

“Sorry…”

He couldn’t understand you. One moment you were playing along, teasing him for his kinks, and the next a sudden despondence filled you when talking about the past. Perhaps that was it, the past you had with him was nothing but bitter now and he knew it. Your short answers when at work and your demeanor now— you had to feel some type of way towards him to feel some obvious guilt.

Jaemin couldn’t be more thankful for the doorbell ringing. If it hadn’t caused a distraction, he would probably end up telling you that he got rid of it because it smelt of you and he didn’t want to hurt anymore but here you were once again, nearly six years later. Intoxicating his living space once again with the what if of never having introduced you to Jeno.

“Thank you.” His voice boomed in your ears, something about Jaemin kept you there even after embarrassing yourself like this. On your way here and to these minutes of awkwardness, the clock had hit seven and it only kept going by faster.

Seeing him take in the plastic bags of food, you felt it was natural to help him. Standing from your position on the couch, you walked closer to him, taking the bag of side dishes. “Excited about the mall?” Jaemin asks, pulling the coffee table closer to the sofa so neither of you would have to crouch to get food.

His mention of the mall didn’t quite help your situation. Remembering how the mentions of being handed a project was making the ache in your chest twist. “Actually, I still don’t know if I’ll be there for the construction…” God, would this night get any more sad?

Jaemin’s eyebrows knitted hearing you, rummaging through the bags and finding the utensils. Taking out a box of spicy honey glazed chicken, he picked at a small piece before handing you the box. “Why?”

All he could do was look pretty and eat while asking questions.

“The big man offered me that job in Mexico… he said the company wants me specifically but I just think he’s using me as an excuse to make Mr. Lee spend more money on the firm and their projects.”

“You got that right.” He scoffed, taking a pickled radish and stuffing it into his mouth once he felt the heat of the spice, causing you to grimace knowing that was karma for his words. “Hey! Don’t agree with me!” Shoving his arm lightly, he laughed at your actions and words.

“Come on, think about it. Every time I see him talk with you he’s smiling so hard that he might pull a muscle. He also mentions Mr. Lee from time to time. Either he wants the money by buttering you up or something else, hell he might want Mr. Lee for something else.” With a wink you laughed at his stupid joke. Either or could be but you settled for the money. There’s no way you could see yourself with that man.

Picking at the same box of chicken he had handed you, you placed the small piece in your mouth before turning to look at him. He was looking through the sides, making sure his order was the way he wanted. It’s not like he would call and complain, he was a coward after all.

“Have you considered it though? I do think it would look good for you to start working on international projects right after one at home. Just think about it! Top Young Architects— No! Hot Architects under 30!”

You laughed at him that night, missing his jokes and the entertainment in your life. Though he tried convincing himself to be jealous of your quick success, he only found himself proud of what you were doing. He wanted to be mad at you, he wanted to hate you after that night but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Not when he felt like he did right now.

“Before I left he sent me an email talking about how I could take someone with me, if I do go— Would you go with me?” That was a dangerous question. You knew it was dangerous and so did he. Even if you knew the answer there was no way; Jaemin wouldn’t try to mask what he felt.

Laughing as he shook his head, Jaemin took a piece of the chicken from the box you held. “I’m an intern, y/n. Choose someone who’s an actual architect.” His arm was resting on the head of the couch, almost wrapping around your shoulders if he’d want to. “You are a real architect… If anyone then I want you there with me.”

Why did you have to be such a brat at all times! The way he turned his head to face you, his eyes dark and lips shut tight as your pout diminished with his strong gaze. “You’re not even done with the first can and you’re already on it? Ai, what made you a lightweight all of a sudden?”

His eyebrow raised again as he stood from his position, the warmth from his body leaving with him as he crouched down to the fridge under the cabinets. You couldn’t help but miss his warmth despite him being in the same room. “Whatever, I don’t want to go either way.” You whispered through your pout, Jaemin’s head hung low when he heard you.

Time was going by too fast, not long ago it was seven, now it was nearly 9:48 at night. Even when your conversation seemed short and simple, too many silent words were spoken in between. You could never be quiet with Jaemin. Due to that, you believed that was the reason Jeno had made you slowly part ways from him.

You could never understand how that night you had found yourself in his arms without action. Sprawled on the couch with your back against his chest the two of you had convinced each other that nothing would come from just being held. He had turned the TV on not long after your third can and your insistence on singing karaoke without a machine. Now all that was left were the melancholic instrumentals with lyrics reading across the screen.

His fingers raked against your cold arms as he held you closer to him. Jaemin didn’t have to speak to let you know how he was feeling, even when you two ignored it. “Is there a reason you changed your mind and came here tonight?” His breath tickled against your neck, your fingers wanting to take his and tangle them together.

“I can’t stand Jeno anymore…he repulses me.” The heavy sigh of relief that left your lips worried him. He could feel you recoiling against him as you continued. “I can’t stand Eunja. I can’t stand that apartment, it’s cold, ugly, dirty, messy, and stinky. Sunlight doesn’t even come inside which makes it more depressing than it is.” You clutched his shirt, your nails softly scratching his chest.

The moment you stopped talking, his arms wrapped around you. “I don’t understand why he won’t end it when he’s been fucking her when I’m not there. It’s not like he loves me, I know he doesn’t…” Rage. The rage that once filled you was filling him. How careless could Jeno be to not even hide his affairs from you, especially with someone you know means a lot to Jeno.

“Why don’t you end it?” Shifting to look up at him, Jaemin didn’t bother looking down at you, only reaching for the can of beer he had on the table, taking in every last bit of liquid. “I guess I’m just as much of a coward as him…” You weren’t wrong, you were a coward and Jeno was a safe bet. His parents completed your life and built it. It was more for the reason that you didn’t want to seem ungrateful to them.

“That you are.”

Why did he always have to agree with what you said?!

“God, you don’t have to tell me as if I need reassurance! I should just go home…” Jaemin didn’t try to follow up on it, he knew you were becoming weaker with your thoughts. “Okay... I’ll call you a cab.” Shaking your head, you stood from your position. “I’m not drunk, I can still drive.” Jaemin laughed as he took his phone out. “Sure, Ai.”

“Stop calling me that! I don’t deserve to still be called that.”

Putting his phone back in his pocket, Jaemin looked at you, trying to meet your gaze and understand if you meant it. “Okay, I will...” Why is he so complacent!

“Would you stop agreeing with me?!”

“Then what do you want from me?” Jaemin was too calm and collected while muttering those words. He knew you were only in the heat of the moment due to your running thoughts and alcohol filled body. Looking up at him and finally meeting his eyes, your own softened.“I— nothing, I’m sorry...”

Jaemin smiles at you in reassurance that it was fine. Helping you put on your sweater knowing you were heading out already. Nothing could break the silence that locked itself around both of you after putting away the butterfly slippers. The walk down the stairs and out the building filled with the silence of your steps and those neighbors loud enough. Even by the clanking of mom and pop, take out dishes left out by the stairs.

It was chilly by the time you both had gone outside and caught the cab already parked outside. Just as bitter, this goodbye was. Watching him pull his hand out of his pockets just to freezingly wave goodbye and you to show him an apologetic smile for leaving him again. It brought memories, ranging from good to worse and you’re at least glad to say this was an added one to the calmly painful folder.

“Hey—”

His voice was rough, the lack of talking had made him clear his throat, smiling at you with embarrassment.

“Yeah?” “He doesn’t treat you right but I will.”

Shocking to know he still believed so. A gasp left your lips, you weren’t expecting it but it did partially fill the void he had created many years ago.

Your lips turned from gaping to a satisfied smile, nodding his way. “Go to sleep, Jaem.” He chuckles, watching you get inside the cab and have it drive you away to your inferno. There was some guilt in him after sending you off but he knew he’d feel guilty even if he didn’t send you off.

That cab ride you couldn’t stop thinking of what he thought about after sending you off. As much as you were worried about Jaemin’s mindset after having you in his home once again after six years, you hated the idea of Jeno finding out as if he had cared about you finding out about him and Eunja.

“How much would it be?” The cab ride was faster than when you had driven there yourself but then again, this time you didn’t have to worry about causing any accidents. The man only shook his head, “The sir you were with paid already. Have a nice night.” He didn’t even leave you time to give him a tip before he had driven off once you were out.

Sighing to yourself as your grasp on your purse loosened, you walked inside the building, smiling at Jisung as he enthusiastically greeted you. “Aren’t you tired?” You questioned with a giggle as he pressed the buttons to your floor.

“Yeah, but it’s my job to be friendly.” He smiled watching you go in. “You know, if I find out you’ve been acting with me— I’ll be heartbroken.” His face turned a shade of red you hadn’t seen before. The moment he saw your pout and saddened face he shook his head trying to assure you that he liked you enough to not fake your friendship.

He was a puppy dog after all.

Smiling at him as you ruffled his head, waving upon seeing the doors close, leaving you with your thoughts again. Jeno hadn’t slept that night, he wouldn’t have slept this early to be exact but after doing what he did with Eunja it was only natural they both would fall asleep right after. How hypocritical.

Eunja had fallen asleep on the couch right after, leaving Jeno to wait for you. He did find it weird seeing you get off a cab. After all he knew you took your car and when he didn’t see it pass all this time he stood by the window waiting for you, some sort of panic was filling him.

He heard you punch in the numbers onto the pin pad. If it wasn’t for his urgent need to see you as if he hadn’t just betrayed you for the millionth time, the door wouldn’t have been opened. Upon the door opening, you stumbled forward a little. Your balance being weak from the alcohol, making it easier for him to pull you into his arms.

“God, I was worried about you! Are you okay?” His hands were cold the moment they came in contact with your face, nothing like Jaemin’s warm ones. You nod with widened eyes, confused by his random burst of worry.

Jeno pulled you in for a hug before cradling your face once again. Connecting your lips in a kiss you two haven't shared in weeks. He couldn’t deny that he missed your lips against his, there was this type of home he found with your lips that he couldn’t with Eunja’s.

That home dwindled the moment he tasted the familiar taste of beer on your tongue and lips. The cold and cheap taste that he tasted one happy time long ago. Just as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip in hopes to collect more of the source, Jeno pulled from the kiss, holding you close to him as his cold hands cradled your face and his eyes stared into yours.

You won’t ever forget the fright and pain that his eyes held. Never had you seen Jeno with so much pain the moment he stared into your tired eyes. “Where were you? You were with him, weren’t you?” His voice cracked and instantly knew he was the king of manipulation, causing you to push him away from your figure. “Don’t start.”

“Don’t start what, y/n? You went back to him for fuck sakes!” His tender touch and tone were quickly gone as he followed you around to the bathroom, panic growing for once. “Jeno get out, I have to piss.” You whine, pulling down your slacks and underwear, sitting on the cold toilet seat.

“Since when do you care that I come in when you’re pissing— fuck, that’s not even the point! What were you doing with him?” His voice rose every time he thought about Jaemin. He didn’t even notice when you had flushed the toilet and washed your hands.

Taking a face wipe to remove the makeup from your face, Jeno stood behind you, going as far as wrapping his arms around you like Jaemin had just before you left. “What’s gotten into you?! Why are you worrying about Jaemin?” You questioned upon disposing of the wipe and beginning to wash your face. Pushing him off slightly to make the process easier.

“What do you mean, why am I worrying? Do you not remember what you two were before you and I?! I can’t bear thinking about you back in his arms… I don’t want to even think about him touching you again…” Looking at his eyes through the mirror you could see the jealousy and worry.

Pushing him off of you, you grunted grabbing your toothbrush. Ignoring his presence in the restroom while you brushed your teeth. “Would you leave?!” Exasperated you rinse your mouth, watching him stand by the door frame like a wounded puppy as he finally backs away from you. “Just tell me why you went to his place… You have no business there.” His voice was soft again, coming closer to you but you avoided his touch, walking to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

“Because I was angry at you. Is that what you want to hear? Or do you want to hear me lie and say we fucked like we used to? Which lie do you want?” Taking a sip from your glass, Jeno angrily stares at you, even when tears pooled at his eyes. “Don’t lie to me. That’s not what I want.” He spoke more aggressively.

Rolling your eyes as you place down the cup in the sink. You noticed the lack of takeout trash and dished. Perhaps that’s why this place didn’t reek once you entered. “You lie to me all the time, why can’t I? Plus you were thinking the exact same thing even before I just told you it was a lie, Jeno. You won’t ever stop thinking of me as a whore who slept with your old best friend, huh?”

“That’s not it!” “Then what is?!”

Both of you were yelling now. To be exact he didn’t see you as a whore, he only saw you as the root of his problem despite how much he must have loved you in the moment. Not only that but also a trophy, something he had won over Jaemin and you were there to show him.

“Fuck, just tell him you went to suck him off so he can shut up. People are sleeping here.” Eunja’s groggy voice had interfered once again between you both. Chuckle with a scoff leaving your lips when hearing her talk. You shook your head looking at him. “Fuck me! Do you ever mind your own fucking business?! This doesn’t involve you.” You grunt the moment you heard her shuffle to find a shirt in the pile of clothes on the floor.

Her barefoot steps against the floor had grown louder as she stood next to Jeno, wrapping her arms round his shoulders. “Of course it does, we’re talking about my best friend’s feelings here. If you’re the one to cause him problems, I’ll be here.”

“You’re here regardless even if we don’t want you to...”

Jeno turned to look at you, glaring at how Eunja only bothered to put on a shirt and panties. “You know, Jeno. If you’re going to have corporal support, it’s only fair that I do too.” You were trying to rile him up. You didn’t really want to talk about Jaemin but instead it only riled Eunja.

“Corporal support? At least he can be here and know someone cares for him.” God, you were so tired of her meddling in. “Eunja, start paying bills and rent now if you insist on joining in on our relationship arguments.” Emphasizing our, neither of them took it lightly that you ignored her statement.

Scoffing at your words, Eunja dropped her arms from his shoulders to fold them across her chest. “Find yourself a job without the help of Mr. Lee and then I’ll pay rent.” She knew well where to hit but even when you glared at her in hopes she became ash, you knew her points as well though.

“Find your father first and ask him to give you back your trust fund. At least you’ll leach off of him again and leave us alone.” “Y/n!”

Annoyed by the way Jeno yelled at you rather than her, your glare only increased looking at the both of them.

“Sorry, just remembered he disowned you for his new kid. One who doesn’t come from an unwanted and unhappy forced marriage.” Seeing the pain in Eunja’s face was more than satisfactory. Good enough for you to want to grab a beer even if you had just brushed your teeth. Her sniffles driving you to euphoria.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you bring that up?” Jeno had stopped your steps, taking a hold of your wrist to stop you, trying to scold you but all you heard was the buzzing of pestering parasites.

“Don’t fucking touch me... I’m tired of her meddling in on our arguments that most of the time she causes and you want me to be nice to her? I couldn’t care enough for her. Never in your life think I’ll like her. Especially not after finding you both that first night. You don’t even actually like her, even she knows you’re only using her when you want to fuck.”

Jeno understood your cold words, his grip from your wrist left the moment you expressed your thoughts. “Apologize.” Jeno couldn’t really tell what he was looking for when he asked you to apologize as if you would just because he told you to but he did want to feel like he had control.

Of course he understood that the moment you turned to glare at him, a long and hesitant silence between you two as Eunja continued to cry. “Is it her or is it me?” A soft and silent gasp left his lips the moment your eyes met. You had never been this precise and he knew if he answered, it’d be over. His silence was painful, throat slitting painful and the moment his eyes tore from you to look at Eunja, you knew.

You didn’t speak, you couldn’t. Instead you felt your blood boil to the point that the intoxication left your body and your hands turned into tight fists of detained anger. “I hope you rot in shit and the deepest level of hell, both of you… We’re done for, I’m not dealing with you or her anymore.” Jeno turned to look at you, the tired expression of heartbreak evident in his eyes. A part of you wanted him to say he loved you but even if he still did, you didn’t think you loved him.

Anger filling you, you went to grab your purse again, slipping in the same shoes you had worn as you stormed out the first time. He had reached out to you when he noticed you were seriously getting out again but upon hearing your shriek he stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide from shock.

“I told you to not touch me! You fucking repulse me, Jeno— every time you touch me I feel disgust and discomfort, fucking leave me alone! You’re gross.” Pushing back your hair and turning to slam the door behind you as you struggled to take out your phone, dialing Jisung’s number. Leaving him standing frozen on his spot rewinding the words you had just told him.

That night you had failed to notice the damage you had caused in both Eunja and Jeno.

Only a horrible person could say those things and not feel remorse but you were a horrible person. Eunja’s fear of never being loved only increased after that. She knew Jeno only took her in for pity and did only have her around for whenever he wanted sex. Afterall you were never home because of work so she was his second choice.

As in for her dad… that man always made sure to let her know he didn’t have an ounce of love for her. He had remarried not long ago after framing her mother of an affair to make the divorce faster. After that marriage he had a son. She couldn’t blame her father for loving him more than he would ever love Eunja.

He was a product of a marriage with love and passion, not the robotic lifestyle she grew up in. Jeno’s parents were the only people she could rely on for parental love but the moment you came into the picture it was evident they were only waiting for someone to give them grandchildren.

Even if they never disclosed matters with Jeno, his parents knew of everything he did wrong to you and knowing Eunja was a reason for your dwindling beautiful romance, their dislike and disillusion for her grew. On top of that they grew to notice how obnoxiously dependent of a person she really was and that hatred from people that once loved her only made her weaker as time went by.

As for Jeno— only you could tell him how horrible of a person he was and be affected by it. Perhaps you don’t love him anymore but he loves you in his own way (so he thinks), even if his actions tell you otherwise. With your confession of disgust towards him, he felt like he had finally been crushed and his ego died. No— he finally understood how badly he had ruined you for you to say such vile things to him.

He knew he had no reason to be angry over you visiting Jaemin and even if you two did sleep together that night, he couldn’t blame you— it’s not like he hadn’t been doing that with Eunja for the past two years right in front of you.

The moment he snapped out of it as he saw the door fully closed, a sort of pain kept growing deeper. Seeing how hard your slam had made the items on the side table at the entrance fall. The vase with dead flowers had fallen to the floor, breaking the ceramic across and having the remaining water spill on the framed picture of both you and him. To be exact it wasn’t framed anymore. Upon contact with the floor, the frame broke, shattering the glass and scratching the picture.

Crouching down to get the image, he took it in between his fingers, blowing softly in fear of smudging the image. He didn’t look at Eunja that night. That was the first night he slept alone after six years, locking the door to the main room and hugging your pillow.

Jisung had picked up fairly fast, receiving you with an enthusiastic hello in the process of yawning. “Jisung, do you mind calling me a cab?” The meekness in your voice made him keep alert, despite the silence lingering while you got on the elevator. “I— I’m actually off my shift right now—”

“Oh, I’m sorry… I’ll call then.” “No! I— I can take you wherever you’re going. I don’t mind.”

Jisung always knew how to comfort you in his own way. He was the younger brother you wished for but to be honest he was the only one you could take care of and look after. Jeno didn’t grant you that purpose and after years together and now, there’s no way you could have his children and take care of them like you did for Jisung. Maybe that’s why you clung to the idea of Jaemin. He always followed you around like a kid in need and you were always there to help him.

You had hung up the moment the doors to the elevator dinged, opening to see him standing there with his jacket and backpack on, just waiting for you to arrive. “Are you sure you can give me a ride?” Shyly questioning, he nods with a smile, motioning for you to follow him.

The entire car ride you didn’t speak, only to tell him where to drop you off. You wanted to cry, you wanted to show how in pain you were but the numbness that took over you after knowing Jeno kept sleeping with Eunja didn’t allow for it. You couldn’t cry, even if you really wanted and just like always— you had to suffer in silence.

“Hey. We’re here…” Breaking from your thoughts upon realizing how fast you had ended here once again, you nod smiling at him. “Thank you, call me if you need anything. I— I won’t be staying there any longer.” Seeing your gaze drop from his, Jisung, turned to you in worry.

“Huh?! What do you mean? Did something happen?!” His exasperated worry was endearing rather than annoying. You knew he cared for you, you were the only one to baby and comfort him knowing his parents were a long four hour train ride away.

Giggling at his demeanor you ruffled his hair again. “Is it because of Mr. Lee?...” His eyes had turned just as sad as yours, taking the hand that played with his hair into his. “I can mess with the water or the AC if you want? But to be honest he hasn’t been an asshole to me so I can’t really judge the situation.” He squeezed your hand, making you look up at him.

“Jisung… I— don’t worry about it. If you want I’ll visit you from time to time.” He knew that was it but he didn’t want to ask furthermore. You were already on the verge of slumping on your seat if you continued to talk about it.

“You have my email and other places to talk on so please keep me updated, you’re the only one I care enough to hear about.” It was clear that Jeno had done something for you to answer in such a manner.

There was nothing he could do, so he opted for a nod and a smile taking you into an uncomfortable hug across the seats. “Take care, you can call me any time!” Jisung never explained how he managed to hide his feelings well. “I will, thank you...” Opening the door to his car, you smiled, waving at him once again. Before closing it, you turned to him; “Take care of Jeno for me, please…” Jisung nodded, watching you go inside the building before he drove away.

You didn’t only leave Jeno and Eunja wounded but Jisung added to the mix.

The difficulty of going up the steps didn’t bother you this time. You had found yourself up in no time compared to the first time earlier this day, well it was almost the next day. Just as before you punched in the numbers to the pad, not caring if the noise they made were loud enough to wake Jaemin from his slumber.

It was odd, he couldn’t think of anyone coming at this hour, not even you despite your earlier visit. All changed when he sat up, bed sheets covering his lower half and seeing your dark shadow turn on the light to the front part of the home.

“Y/n?” “Hey...”

Your slanted smile caused a sense of relief in him, something must’ve happened for you to be back here. Jaemin didn’t waste time in standing up, rushing to your figure and enveloping you in his arms, holding you tightly like he wanted so long ago.

The tears you couldn’t shed, he could. Buried emotions resurfaced when he saw you again this night, whether it was for better or for worse, he was only glad he could have you to himself again. His body was so warm against yours, shirtless, his musk filled you again. He wanted to speak, there was so much he wanted to say but he couldn’t— at least not now.

Jaemin had pulled away momentarily just to look at you, at your eyes and expression but all you could think about was kissing him. Kissing him like you used to and having him reciprocate it with much deserved passion. That’s what you did though. Taking the hand that held your face, you connected your lips, feeling the slight mixture of softness and chap of his lips against your own.

His arms had wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him in fear of having you leave him again. Jaemin felt that comfort from years ago, letting you lead him to his bed as the both of you kissed, holding each other for dear life.

That’s something about you. You could feel indifferent about anything but in the process and during sex you loved wildly and immensely. The moment you sat him down on the bed, straddling his lap— Jaemin could feel the long night this would be. Removing your sweater as the two of you continued to kiss. Your hips softly moved against his boxer clad lap, knowing he was easily sensitive.

Even when you had control overall— this was where he took it.

His hands took a tight grip on your hips, pushing you down on his cock as it got harder. His lips took yours in a needy kiss, becoming sloppy the moment his tongue poked out, swiping across your upper lip. Taking it as a sign to part your lips, a moan left them when he granted you with a soft thrust upward, thanking you for being complacent.

Jaemin chuckled, his chest rumbling with it. His hands left your hips making you miss his warm grip. His fingers tugged at the buttons of your blouse while you continued to kiss, your tongue making sure to taste him. From sloppy to passionate, you held the nape of his neck, your lips molding with his.

You were the type to kiss until you couldn’t breathe anymore, pulling away to see his lips plump from kissing. There was something endearing from this image— he was still your boy. After all these years he was still your boy, your Jaemin…

He smiled upon meeting your eyes. They turned into slight crescents as he kissed your cheek, removing your blouse and unclasping your bra, pulling it all off. Jaemin’s head dipped, coming in contact with your breast, his lips softly kissing the delicate flesh. His lips rested around your left breast, kissing softly and his breath fanning the skin, causing goosebumps. Jaemin smiled at the feeling, looking up at you with his soft puppy eyes, admiring you from that angle, just as you were him.

When he saw you smile at him, he turned his attention back to your breast, his lips finally enveloping around the perked nub. His mouth was warm, the saliva on his tongue coating your nipple as he swirled his tongue around it. Pulling away slightly, he blew cold air on it, making you take a hold around him.

“Jaemin…”

Something about you moaning his name always sets him off. It was his fuel but only when it came from your lips. The moment it left them, his lips became rougher but still soft enough to not hurt you. His right hand takes your other breast and kneads it, taking your nipple in between his thumb and index, rolling it to your liking.

You hadn’t been touched like this for months and to be touched by someone who has brought you great pleasure in the past, you’re glad to know your dry spell was ending with him. Jaemin was always delicate and rough at the same time, he knew what you liked and how to take it.

“You’re doing so good, baby.” You whispered against the top of his head, leaving soft reassuring kisses. “You’re… doing, great.” He liked when you praised him. Only you. Just like when you moaned his name, hearing you praise him only made him want to please you better.

As you kept getting wetter by his actions, the warmth of your cunt against his cock, made him grow erect. His hips softly jolted upwards, enough to cause friction between both your bodies. Your whimpers couldn’t be tamed, even if you bit your lower lip to be quiet; your fingers raked through his hair, pushing it back to see his face.

Jaemin had always been beautiful. Especially during sex. His features contorted to express how he felt, the way his eyes closed as he focused on pleasing you, the faces he made when he was inside of you— you truly did miss him.

Pulling away from your nub, he smiled, connecting your lips once again. They tingled against yours this time but the warmth that came with them upon kissing made up for it. Your hips this time took the initiative, rocking against his cock in soft glides. Jaemin was a sensitive man, any movement had him biting his lower lip. Throwing his head back with his lips parted in order to allow the moan stuck in his throat to leave.

This was an advantage to you. Lowering your body enough to rock your hips against his whilst you had easy access to his neck, leaving delicate open mouth kisses to it. “Do you feel good, baby?” You whisper against his ear, kissing his lobe before licking a long stripe from it back to his Adam's apple, leaving a kiss on it.

“I always feel good with you on top of me.” He admits, thrusting upwards, making you moan right against his Adam's apple. “Are you feeling good?” He questions, opening his eyes hoping to see you but with your face and lips against his neck— it wasn’t really possible.

“You have always made me feel great.”

Jaemin moaned at your words with the addition of your teeth nipping at the flesh of his neck, knowing well this would lead to territorialism. Chuckling, he pushes you further down on his crotch, hands on your lower back as he thrusts forward, making you feel him so close despite the material you both ported.

Whilst he kept thrusting upwards and you grinded against his cock, sucking on the skin of his neck— you could feel yourself so close to coming undone. As you haven’t been touched by anyone in so long, not even yourself, being in this situation made you grow more hot and bothered than usual. You needed this release and now.

Jaemin couldn’t hold his whimpers at the feeling of you sucking on his neck. Hickies were so juvenile but when you gave them to him, he knew it was your way of claiming. Of wanting to see him marked up and be remembered of who clearly can only do this to him. You have and always will be his muse. His muse who he’d drop everything for.

His hand left your sides and instead cupped your ass, taking you off of his lap and pushing you to the mattress. It did feel different than his old one. This one was more firm and smaller but it could still fit you both. At this point he unbuttoned your slacks and pulled them along your panties, taking them off swiftly like he used to. Parting open your legs, you didn’t protest in anything he did.

By your needy whimpers just for touching you, Jaemin knew it had been a while since you had been touched. His lips had kissed the inside of your thighs, leaving wet open mouthed kisses, his teeth biting the flesh softly from time to time.

“Jaem, please don’t tease.” You whine as his mouth hovers over your cunt. His hot breath fanning against the wetness he had allowed for you to build up through that moment on his lap. Smiling at you, he nods. His lips coming in contact with your cunt, feeling way warmer than when they touched your inner thigh.

Jaemin always knew what pleased you, he knew your ticks and buttons. His lips enveloped your clit, softly sucking on it in order to not get you on edge quickly despite his understanding that you were indeed so very close.

While he sucked on your clit, letting his tongue slip in from time to time, licking at your entrance to taste your ever growing arousal— his fingers ran up and down the inside of your left thigh, tickling you softly to build anticipation.

“Jaem…” You moaned, feeling his hair cascade in front of his face, adding to the tickling feeling on your flesh. “Yeah?” He moaned against your cunt, licking along your inner labia. The vibration of his moan against you made you feel closer, your legs slightly shaking.

At your lack of response, he blew cold air against your cunt, making you groan— letting it elongate as his fingers raked from your inner thigh to your cunt, teasing the labia and clit, playing with the idea of inserting them inside of you.

You didn’t have to ask him, this time he did it on his own when he felt your hands reach down for his hair, tugging at it. He liked it when you pulled at his hair, making him grumble as he inserted his warm middle finger into you.

Gasping at the minimum stretch, you felt a mixture of discomfort and pleasure. It felt so familiar, the curves of his finger in you. Moving softly in and out as his tongue licked around your clit. Just as you were getting used to his middle finger, he had put in his ring finger, moving it around to fit perfectly next to his other one.

The feeling of your walls contracting around his fingers made him want to move them, he wanted to feel you perfectly around his fingers as he ate you out with the fervor of missing your taste. His lips suctioned clit, that’s where you liked him the most— wrapped around your clit and tongue teasing at your entrance, picking up every single drop of you.

Jaemin used his spare hand to prop up your leg slightly, making you do the same with your other leg. He always did this when he was going to start moving his finger, it’s as if he knew it made you feel differently.

His fingers started moving slowly at first. The basic in and out routine until he started to go faster, making them go in deeper, curling his fingers and hand to make sure he had closer contact with your pressure points. That made the palm of his hand start rubbing at your labia, causing a friction that you missed so much.

Your moans increased in volume when his mouth pulled away from you, having only his fingers inside of you. “You’re so sensitive, has he touched you this well? Does he even touch you like I do?” Jaemin’s voice was husky, his warm breath falling flat against your thigh. You couldn’t speak but for sure your loud ‘no’ had satisfied him.

“Say it again.”

“No! He’s never been able to make me feel like you have…” That was enough for him, his spare hand resting its fingers on your clit, rubbing circles on it with delicate pressure as the fingers on his other hand curled and moved at a rapid pace inside of you, your walls wrapping around him, sucking him in. Even if his fingers didn’t reach your g-spot, the pressure and nerves being worked on your clit were driving you to your high and he knew it.

The moment your legs started shaking with the feeling of his fingers thrusting in deeper and the pressure applied to your clit increased; Jaemin pulled them out, having his drenched fingers slap your abused and raw cunt. The sting made your back arch, moaning loudly at how painfully pleasurable he did that.

Knowing that had made you even more sensitive and the slapping pain running through your cunt made you so, Jaemin stuck his fingers back in you, going as deep as he could and stopping there, not even moving them. His other hand reached back to your clit, rubbing faster and harder than before, the stinging hadn’t gone away so feeling him so deep in you that it was hard for you to contract your walls around him.

You couldn’t hold back much longer and he was aware, lowering his head and kissing around your thighs, leaving small bites as he rubbed your clit. As your hands pulled at his hair, Jaemin groaned against your skin, rubbing faster, wanting to see you cum around him, to look pretty as you always do when you cum— that’s what he got.

Upon hearing you whine last time and claiming your orgasm, he curled his fingers inside of you the moment you came, the action causing a sensibility that had you squirming in place and holding onto your thighs for composure. Your legs were shaking and your moans couldn’t stop, your neck felt sweaty but it was all due to your long overdue orgasm.

The moment you had calmed down, Jaemin sat next to you, helping you sit up and pecking your lips. You had chased after his own lips the moment his clean hand wrapped around your shoulder, wanting to feel him closely to you but instead he tapped his soaked fingers against your lips, making it obvious as to what he wanted.

He didn’t have to speak, parting your lips and sticking out your tongue slowly, the contrast of your warmth compared to his cold fingers made you and him softly moan. The sweet and tangy taste of yourself lacing your tongue. It wasn’t an unpleasant taste and even if you’ve tasted yourself before, it always felt different when he asked you to.

He imagined you sucking him off, he did but if he didn’t fuck you any time soon, Jaemin would cum in his boxers and doing so after finally having you back in his bed after so long would destroy his pride. Of course it could wait; the moment he pulled his fingers out of your mouth with a slight string of spit following.

With that you guided his hand back in between your legs. Having him rub you again while you leaned in, taking his lips in between your teeth before kissing him again. Your hand holding his head delicately, enjoying the feeling of his lips against yours.

As the two of you kissed, the hand that held his own moved to his crotch, feeling his clothed cock. It was restrained, the precum staining the gray cloth and asking to be liberated but he wouldn’t grant himself that. With his tongue down your throat, hands in between your legs and helping himself prop up on the bed, there was no way he’d stop you from helping him out— he was technically leaking to be touched.

Or so you thought, the moment your fingers locked around the waistband of the boxers, the hand in between your thighs pulled away, holding your wrist. Even his lips had separated from yours making you whine like a child who’s candy was just taken. “Don’t be so desperate, princess.” His eyes bore into yours before he smiled, leaning into you again, connecting your aching lips and continuing to kiss you.

Despite his lack of wanting attention, there was no harm in touching him a little. In fact you wanted to touch him, to feel him again. You missed the full girthy feeling of him weighing on your hand, you wanted to feel his precum in between your fingers as you touched him, but for now you had to settle for touching him above his boxers.

Whilst the both of you continued to kiss and his hand went in between your thighs again; his palm softly rubbing against your clit, your own hand started softly caressing him. Jaemin didn’t know if you were really trying to tease him or pleasure him so once he felt your hand deliciously rubbing him, he couldn’t help but moan against the kiss.

Satisfied with his response you kept going, touching him over his boxers and praising him for being compliant. He could feel himself being on edge quickly. Just like you, he hadn’t been touched in months but compared to you he did touch himself, it just never felt the same as when someone else did so.

You could feel him whole, the curve of rubbing him up and down, the wetness from the precum, and his shaking legs as you kept going; increasing pressure as you went on. Even when you hadn’t gone much longer the moans against the kiss signaled that he was just as close as you were not long ago.

Feeling himself so very close, Jaemin took your wrist again, this time pulling it away with as much force as to pin you down on the bed. Your soft whimper made him bite down on his bottom lip, his other hand taking a hold of your free wrist.

“I’m so close and I can’t be coming with just your touch…” his head lowered, his lips caressing the flesh of your neck. You felt him so close, his hips lowering to the point you felt his clothed cock press against your achingly wet cunt, leaving a small patch once he lifted his hips.

Moaning at the loss of contact, Jaemin enveloped his lips around your neck, biting down softly while having his lips litter your neck with kisses. Contrary to your kisses, his were delicate and lacked the territorialist sentiment only wanting to leave his print and care, showing he wanted to only please you.

“Cum in me.”

You knew the power of your words. You knew how heavy they weighed over him, loving to hear you say you wanted him to pump his load of cum inside of you, to fill you to the brim and claim you as his with just his warm spurts.

Jaemin growled against your neck, nipping softly at the flesh, his kisses becoming rougher and wet. His frustration laced on his kisses against your neck: wet, sloppy, and open mouthed.

He separated himself from you, dropping his grip on your wrist as he kneeled before you, pushing down his boxers and letting his cock spring free like it had been screaming for so long.

Given the opportunity; you sat up, staring at him as he removed his boxers and threw them on the floor. Your hand reached out for him, wrapping itself around his cock. Coming in contact: he groans loudly, throwing his head back as your thumb collects the precum on his angry red tip, asking to be touched. He was sensitive after all, biting down on his lip, letting you have your way and touch him.

Jaemin believed that if you went any longer he would cum all over your hand and that’s not what he wanted. Your hand itself felt great, your hand rubbing at his tip while moving your hand softly up and down lubricated with only his precum and some of your spit that you had allowed to collect after taking a grasp on him.

His cock in your hand, stroking him just to rile him more; Jaemin leaned forward, resting his head on your shoulder. You could hear his pretty whimpers, how he softly moaned and groaned as you went on. He really was close to coming, as sensitive as he was. In fact you wouldn't have minded having him come on your hand, you wanted to see how pretty he looked as he spurted out his warm cum in ribbons all over your body. Yeah, you’d like to see it.

He would have liked it to but being inside you as he came was more pleasant. Groaning against your shoulder, Jaemin took your wrist again. His hand pinning it to the bed hovering over you as he parted your legs with his spare hand.

Jaemin didn’t speak in the meantime, he looked at you before taking his wet cock onto his hand and guiding it between your legs. Slapping it softly against your cunt to test your sensibility and when you threw your head back in anticipation and want, he smirked, sliding in softly.

You haven’t felt him inside of you for so long that the feeling was foreign. Feeling your walls stretch, you moaned onto the pillows under your head. He hadn’t moved but you could already feel him in the process. He always filled you so well, the girth stretching you out.

“You can’t just say that and expect me to not want to ruin you right now.” As he hovered over you, looking straight into your eyes, letting you adjust. You knew well Jaemin loved coming in you, he always did. It gave him some sense of power, feeling as that's his way of claiming you.

Giggling softly at his words, showing off your toothy grin. “Cum in me, Jaem.” You were taunting him but if he wouldn’t cum on your hand and paint your body with it then you want to feel his hot cum inside of you, filling you like a glove.

Jaemin couldn’t hold off. Leaning against your lips, he kissed you making you moan against them when you felt his hips snap forward.

It was a hard thrust, slow but hard allowing you to feel him fully inside. Every time he thrusted your legs shook, moving around the bed with great pleasure. This looked like a new technique. Starting our hard and slow, his pelvic bone snapping against yours.

Your moans were loud the faster he went, his skin slapping against yours and with his hands holding tightly to your wrists, you couldn’t even hold onto him or the bed. “Jaem!” You scream in pleasure the deeper he goes. His cock coming so effortlessly in and out of you as if your cunt has already adjusted perfectly to him again. Jaemin had noticed it, chuckling at the ease.

“How are you feeling?” He asked against your lips, his hip rotating in circles before going back to slamming them against your own. Your moans overpowered your words to the point that you couldn’t really speak, only bite your lip.

He took it as an answer, continuing as he held onto your wrists, grip so tight to make your hands turn red. “Jaem…” His name cascading from your swollen lips, leaving a sweet taste. Thrusting into you as if he wasn’t just so close to painting your walls.

It didn’t help that you started squeezing your muscles around him, tightening your own grip and making him groan against your sweat coated skin. “Fuck, if you keep doing that, I’ll come right now.” He cooed, making you moan out a whimper, hips rising to feel him even deeper.

Jaemin’s grip on your wrists loosened, moving his hands down your body to hold your hips up there and closer to him as he grinded them against you before continuing to pound into you. It was glorious, the contact of his hips against yours rubbing at your clit. You could feel yourself coming soon once again. You wouldn’t last longer and you were ready to experience that wave of pleasure once again.

Your legs wrapped around his torso, pulling him deeper and closer to you. If he kept going at this pace you would come so hard and you were ready for it. Heels pushing at his ass and arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders once he set your wrists free, holding onto him for dear life. “Fuck, I’m so close,” You whine shutting your eyes tightly.

Nails clung to the flesh of his back, Jaemin felt the sting of it but just like you— he was so very close. “Me too… shit, I can’t hold much longer.” Your muscles squeezed around him, knowing that made him go harder.

Jaemin moaned, pulling your body closer to his. “You little shit, you’re doing it on purpose.” He laughed against you, kissing your cheek with every thrust. “What about it? You’re about to cum already and I want it inside me.” Smiling at him; Jaemin leaned in to kiss you. Fuck, he loved you so much and hearing you be this filthy made him go faster.

His hips slammed against yours even harder, his thrusts both sloppy but feeling good. You weren’t wrong in the fact that he was about to cum but he wanted you to cum first. That wouldn’t happen though. As much friction of his body on your clit, Jaemin was most sensitive and he was soon to spill.

Just as he was about to say he wanted for you to cum first, you had beat him to it. Pulling his head lower so you could speak against his ear. “Cum in me, Jaemin… make me yours again.” That had set him off. A rumbling growl erupted from his throat, thrusting hard inside you with the tight grip of your cunt squeezing him.

“You don’t know how long I’ve ached to hear you say something like that again. To have you like this again, with me— fuck you’re insanely hard to get over…”

He couldn’t hold off any longer. With his final rough thrust, Jaemin held on to you tightly. His face hid on the crook of your neck as he spilt inside of you. It felt glorious on your side too, the feeling of being so full with his cum. Perhaps it was the idea and feeling of having him in you that made you cum with the wave of his warm cum inside of you.

When he felt you squeeze around him, your legs shook and a loud cry left your lips along the warmth of your own cum coating him. Jaemin smiled, leaving kisses along your shoulder blade.

“You did so well…”

You could barely speak but hearing your words made him feel that warm feeling inside of him once again. Sighing against your skin, he smiled before turning to you. “I missed you, you know.” No words left you but you knew he meant it. For now, smiling in satisfaction and caressing his cheek would do. Planting a soft peck on the tip of his nose, having him still buried inside of you and his cum slowly dripping out.

That wasn’t the only round that night but that night you had learned of what he had done all these years without you and what you had done. Though regret coated both of your words with every sentence, neither could deny it was a fulfilling feeling to be in each other's arms once again.

That night you two had held each other, not sleeping after a few more rounds and continuing to chat as if nothing had just happened with Jeno and what happened between the two of you never did. It seemed like the beginning to your paused actions with him before you started dating Jeno but at the end you both knew who would end up hurt if it went further.

You were the first one to wake up in the morning. Thanks to your hypothalamus, you were up before he could notice you had gone to your car to pick up the to-go bag you always had in there. Just in case a scenario like storming out of the apartment would happen. At least it’s of use now.

Jaemin was still asleep once you got inside the apartment, this time the pin pad didn’t wake him up. Taking the opportunity to shower and get cleaned up hoping that maybe you could treat him with some breakfast if you had the willpower right after your shower.

At times like these you would leave before he awoke but that nostalgia of having him there with you didn’t let you. You wanted him in your life again, especially now that Jeno was out of the picture.

Clearly you couldn’t… You had already decided on leaving; as much as you try telling yourself you want a life with Jaemin, you just want the comfort and him to fill the emptiness you have been feeling. He was the only one you knew who cared enough for you.

By the time you had gotten ready and out of the restroom he was already up, clutching the pillow your head rested on earlier and looking through his cellphone. Mere seconds before dialing your phone number, he saw you close the door to the restroom, sighing to himself out of relief.

Jaemin did fear that you’d leave just like many times before. He was scared and vulnerable to lose you again after last night— that’s how attached he really was to you. After all these years he could only focus on you.

“Morning,” Greeting him, he smiles at you, running a hand through his hair and rubbing his eyes just after dropping his phone on the mattress. “Morning…” His shoulders flexed while he stretched, giving you a view of the growing muscles you weren’t really able to see last night.

While you dropped the bag next to the entrance, Jaemin put his boxers back on, walking your way to wrap his arms around your waist. “Want to get breakfast?” His voice was boyish, soft, and calming to hear next to your ear, even when he left soft kisses and rubbed his nose against your neck.

“Oh, I was thinking about making you breakfast, I have enough time before I go in.” Turning to face him, the glint of joy in his eyes was enough to tell you he had gained that illusion again. The one you killed so long ago. You didn’t let it scare you off, or so you’re trying to claim.

“Ai… It’s 8:37 already, you go in at nine… I don’t think that’s enough time.” Your eyes widened at his statement, breaking away from his arms to check the clock on your phone. Clearly enough, he was right. Time did fly by when you were with him.

“Fuck— don’t you go in at the same time? You’re not even dressed yet!” It was endearing how you had grown exasperated that fast but he could only laugh at your reaction. “Technically but your boss wanted me to pick up something for his side—” Covering his mouth, Jaemin turned to you, eyes widened now that you were the one laughing.

He tried to keep quiet about it but that morning you had found out Jungwan had a side chick and she was in her fifth month of pregnancy which was firing a light up his ass. Not only that but the stress he threw onto Jaemin so the secret won’t come out kept growing. He even went as far as suggesting that if they did get caught that Jaemin should take the blame to which his girlfriend ended up slapping him right after. You won’t deny you became obviously pouty and jealous at the news. Enough for him to tease you until he was able to kiss them away.

The day he suggested that, your superior had heard them. Jungwan’s dumbass had been stupid enough to not hang up and have him hear everything. Even threatened him to not involve Jaemin or he himself would fire him. As cold as the superior looks, he did care about his employees— at least only the ones who had purpose to him and Jaemin’s position as an intern and pretty much his second assistant— he was purposeful.

After he told you to keep quiet, Jaemin kissed you one last time before sending you off, knowing you didn’t want to be late. He offered you to stay at his place while you found somewhere to stay but knowing Jeno, his apartment was the first place he would go looking at. At the end of the day you had already made up your mind with your future and in the meantime would crash with Jun, knowing she’ll be there for you.

“I’ll see you later, okay? We can get lunch once I get to the firm.” You nodded, closing the door behind you, leaving him alone once again. Something about the way you quietly left was making him grow anxious. There wasn’t a reason for it but that’s what he thought. In fact any time you left, he always grew scared. The scarring you left that day was never healing.

It was chilly that morning, colder than when you first stepped foot outside. All you could think about in the car after sending the email to your superior was about how those around you would feel. To be exact how Jaemin would feel. Even when you walked through the aisles of the pharmacy with the Plan B in hand, water, and a pack of KitKat’s. You could only think of how he would react knowing you’d run away from him again.

Not even the light music playing on the speakers could distract you nor the questioning glare of the lady who angrily packed your items into the plastic baggy. Adding a pack of condoms into the mix to make her scowl grow bigger, you paid with cash hoping it would only ruin her morning just like she was bittering yours.

Hopping into the car, closing the door forcefully you looked ahead. The dull buildings were deteriorating while you thought about yourself and your decisions. Either way you rummaged every compartment in the car just to find the opener in your purse, making sure and precise openings to the plastic.

You could never understand how Jun opened it with her teeth, struggling to remotely make an opening and avoiding the plastic to either cut her or stab her gum but at the end of the day it was Jun. Straight to the point and ready for anything.

Sighing to yourself as you took the bottle of water out of the bag and opened it, you took out the pill popping it out of the packaging. It was an amazing waste of plastic and paper just for a tiny single pill, yet at the same time it was rather understandable knowing they could easily steal it if it was pocket sized.

Nonetheless its purpose was taken and you swallowed it, staring at the chocolate debating whether you should eat it or leave it, knowing it was a waste getting it. Even the condoms seemed like a waste unless you decide to fuck Jaemin while you wait for your plans to commence. Either way, there’s nothing else to do than wait.

There was a new air in the firm, it was crisp and clear. Things seemed so different after last night and you wondered if Jeno’s and Eunja’s toxicity was the reason for your previous demise.

The lights were bright but warm this time. As you went up the elevator to your floor you placed down your items waiting for the hour to come where your superior would call you again.

“Morning, y/n.” Guenhye greeted you, placing her cup of coffee next to her desktop screen.

“Good morning!” That was too peppy. Raising an eyebrow she smiled, winking your way. “Had a good night?” She questioned logging in just as you settled your own stuff down. “Yeah… yeah, I’d say so.” Remembering Jaemin inside of you and his sweet talk right after did make your night turn around from the anger and pain brought to you prior.

“Lucky, Jeno in that case.”

Jeno. Just hearing his name made your body slouch, the air was thick again, and the gloominess in the firm returned. That happy morning was gone.

“Ms. y/l/n. Your meeting is now.” It was your superior’s assistant. Her words were quick and to the point but they always held that kindness that any assistant should have. Looking up at her you nodded, clipping on your ID just as you began to follow behind her, avoiding Geunhye’s questioning gaze hoping to know what it was about.

God, you knew she would be heartbroken if she knew.

Yesterday seemed to be repeating itself; clicking your shoes and hers against the floor and the bright lights above, presenting you in the spotlight as his assistant and you walked to and from the elevator to his office.

This time he didn’t have you waiting. She had directed you inside and shut the door behind her as she left without a word. Looking at the clock on his wall, the time had marked 9:48— hopefully enough, Jaemin was back from his little dirty mission.

“Y/n! So, did you make up your mind that quickly?” He smiled with his fingers intertwined together, resting on his desk while showing how he knew you would backtrack on your previous words. “Yes, sir… I’ll take the position at FR-EE…”

If anything— this is the perfect time to run away like the coward you are. Leaving Jaemin and Jeno behind for good.

if you liked airbag then you’ll like: happy together!

join yojeongin’s taglist to be up to date with future work!

#neosmutcollective #cznnet #jaemin smut #na jaemin #lee jeno #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct #nct dream #jeno #jaemin #jaemin x you #jeno x you #jaemin angst #jeno angst #jeno x reader #jaemin x reader

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angelamajiki · 3 years

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Damn that Bully Dabi and Hawks fic was an amazing read! I love it when you write them full on bastard mode!

Pro Hero Bakugou sexually harassing his weak quirkless secretary who does her very best at her job. She's good at it but Bakugou always looks mad (read: sexually frustrated). High on success after a good rescue, he wants to celebrate....

Cop Bakugou sees a pretty little thing outside a club. She looks sus so he decides she needs a pat down. Maybe he'll plant something to blackmail her into doing certain favors. Very bully, very bastard Bakugou.

PARINGS: Pro Hero! Bakugou x Secretary! Quirkless! AFAB! Reader

CW: yandere, dubcon/noncon, dirty talk, choking, cunnilingus, overstimulation, scumbage bakugou, use of the word rape, quirkless reader, size difference, age gap, death threats, sexual harrassment, bullying, mindbreak, masturbation, office sex

AN: I’ll probably write the cop Bakugo at some point too! For now, mind the tags and enjoy :)

They say to never meet your idols and in retrospect, you wished you would have listened.

Try as you might, it seemed like Mr. Dynamight was never satisfied with your work. Admittedly, you joined his agency as his office secretary based on having a crush on the pro, but you assumed his brash nature would calm down in an office setting. You did everything he asked, obediently followed his every word, which was all met with harsh glares and what you thought were dissatisfied grunts.

Surely you thought it wouldn't be about your being quirkless, but rumors were high strung in the office about the blonde’s feeling towards those without quirks. It would explain the harsh glares and judgment he passed on you despite your work effort.

The man even went as far as to ask for your personal phone number, only to leave scathing voicemails whenever you couldn't show up to work or miss out on work gatherings he put together. You couldn't help but flush at the thought of him missing your presence. Maybe you were just bad at reading his signals? Or maybe he was just hell-bent on bullying you more than the rest of the staff.

The job paid very well, so you couldn't exactly up and leave based on his behavior. However, you did notice how...handsy Mr. Dynamight has become with you. It was subtle at first, brushing shoulders in the hallways, letting his fingers ghost against yours when he handed you paperwork.

It soon escalated to always having a hand on your shoulder, holding your hips when he had to brush behind you, towering over you from behind your chair when you showed him something. You couldn't say that you weren't flattered, but his rough demeanor remained.

It started becoming uncomfortable when he made passes at you, making sure you were cornered and alone when he did.

“C’mon, am I really that fuckin’ intolerable that you can't get lunch with me, pipsqueak?”

You assumed that he was just messing with you, so you always turned him down with a flushed face and ran back to your desk, leaving him blue balled and more desperate by the day. There's no way a pro hero like him would actually be interested in someone quirkless and weak like yourself.

But that's the reason why he liked you anyway. So small, so weak, so obedient, so perfect for him to fuck up. God, if he didn't want just to rip your tiny pencil skirt to threads and spear you on his cock like no tomorrow. A pretty thing like yourself shouldn't be working. No, no, no. You should be at home, in his home in his bed with his ring on your finger. You belong to him, don't you see that?

Katsuki only ever gives you the time of day, not those other stupid bitches who crawl up his ass every morning trying to get a crumb of attention. And what do you do with his precious time? Waste it. Always whining about how you really shouldn't, that he shouldn't be seen with someone like you. As if he gives a fuck about what the media has to say.

He even checks up on you when you're not at work! Isn't he such a gentleman? Sure, he's a bit vulgar, but he's trying to show he cares. But if you want to act like a stuck-up bitch, then he’ll gladly treat you like one.

After a particularly tough fight with a villain, the blonde wanted nothing more than to use and abuse you to get some steam off his chest. It was late, but he prayed to whatever gods were out there that you were still in the office. He left you a voicemail for good measure, hoping that you would do what you always did best and stayed obedient for him.

It was locked up for the night, but he could see your office light on from the street. Perfect. Such a good girl for him. Little did he know that you stayed late quiet often.

You hadn't even seen his previous call come through; you were too busy listening to an old one with plenty of derogatory terms being spat your way. A hand shoved in your skirt, you couldn't help but finger yourself the sound of his voice calling you moronic for skipping out of work. Mr. Dynamight was your childhood crush after all, you had jerked off to plenty of interviews of him in the past. Sure, it was creepy but no one had to know. The older man was so big, so strong and handsome. You couldn't help but feel fuzzy from the voicemail, even if it was degrading you, it was for you alone.

Speak of the devil and he will appear.

“Well, shit. Whadda we have here, pipsqueak?”

A rough chuckle came from behind you as he pulled your desk chair out and swiveled towards him.

“Caught ya red-handed, huh? Who knew you were such a little slut for me.”

Taking the phone from your hand, he hung it up on the receiver and took your hand out of your panties. He snatched your fingers greedily in his mouth and sucked your wetness off of him.

“You know what, I’m feeling a bit hungry. And you taste like something in the vein of what I’m tryin’ to have for dinner.”

Katsuki devoured you in a hungry kiss, lifting you out of the chair and onto your desk. He tossed aside the papers messily and spread your legs to see your slick moistening your sheer tights and panties.

“Bend over and spread that fuckin’ pretty pussy for me, pipsqueak.”

You shook your head, already feeling humiliated enough by being caught with your pants down, literally.

“That wasn't a question, that was a command, you bratty bitch. What happened to your manners?”

God did his words stir something deep inside you. Waiting was no longer a priority; catching you like this was proof enough in his mind that you were just playing hard to get.

“You should consider yourself lucky that I want you to sit on my face, you know that? I have bitches trying to get on my dick every day, but it only gets hard for you, pipsqueak.”

“I-I thought you didn't like quirkless people!”

“It's all the more reason I want to be balls deep in your cunt right now. So weak and pathetic, it's fucking cute.”

You could feel yourself tighten around nothing just at his words. He was right, you were just a pathetic plaything for him. Not hesitating any longer, he ripped off your skirt and threw it behind the both of you. Your tights also got ripped to shreds, leaving you in your blouse and panties.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous.” He muttered, mostly to himself as he took your panties off and pocketed them. For later, he thought.

Katsuki didn't hesitate to spit on your already wet cunt before diving into his meal. Each stroke of his tongue sent fire straight to your core, each suckle of his lips drew a whimper from your mouth. Hips bucked into his mouth before he held them down, using just one hand to cover your torso. So small and petite for him, how cute would you be up against his massive form.

“M-Mr. Dynamight!”

“Heh, so fuckin’ cute. Call me Katsuki, sweet thing. Or daddy, if you're nasty like that.”

Your hips were held taught against his face, not allowing you to squirm or inch away from his searing tongue fucking your hole. He continued to ravage you with his mouth, pulling away only a few times to give your pussy a nice spank. Groaning into your cunt, he stroked himself at the same time.

Humiliation had dissolved into pleasure as he serviced you, tears springing in your eyes as he gripped his head tightly with your hands and thighs. Having already masturbated before getting caught, it didn't take long for him to make you see stars and roll your eyes into the back of your head.

“K-Katsuki, I’m cumming!” You shouted, squirting onto his tongue as your body shook around his head. Your fingers threaded deeply into his hair and tugged as he continued to work his tongue into your hole, riding out your orgasm.

He didn't stop, though.

“Too much, it's too much!”

“I’ll stop when I’m finished, little girl.”

You tried to push his head away, but he gripped your wrists from under your legs and had you pinned against his mouth, shaking and screaming from overstimulation. Once he brought you another good nut, he pulled away and gave your clit a kiss, chuckling when you jumped.

Standing up, he pushed his mask up to pull his back and took his rock-hard cock from his pants. He spat on your dripping hole once again before lining up his fat head with it.

Katsuki hissed as he sank himself into your cunt, holding your hips in place as you whined and squirmed under him, still overly sensitive. God, were you gripping him in all the right ways. Your legs around his waist, your hands on his forearms, and your cunt around his cock.

“Relax, pipsqueak, or I’ll end up breaking you.” He chuckled. “But you might like that, huh?”

Seeing your teary, fucked out face while teasing you? He nearly jizzed himself on the spot. But he had to hold out for you. A choked gasp was all you could respond with as he got right in your face, breath tickling your cheeks as he looked in your eyes.

“Such a dirty slut, getting off to the sound of my voice. It's better in person, isn't it?”

“D-Daddy!”

Was all you could whine as his thumb made his way to your clit, drawing slow, gently circles with his roughed-up finger.

“Oi, oi, oi, did I break ya already, pipsqueak? Y’know, you coulda just asked for my cock like a good girl if you were gonna get this drunk off it.”

His hips slowly drew back, almost pulling out all the way before slamming back in, earning a squeal from you.

“Or maybe you wanted me to take you by force? Show ya what the fuck happens to quirkless little girls who tease their fuckin’ man so much that he just has to come and take their little cunt to show ‘em who’s boss, eh?”

You couldn't help but tighten around him from his words, squirming under his hot breath as he started to grind his hips up into yours slowly.

“Good girl, letting daddy rape your cunt so willingly.”

Katsuki chuckled, sealing a hot kiss on your mouth while he gripped your throat. His hips began to piston in and out of your pussy, thick veins grinding against your spongy walls.

His brutal kisses swallowed your moans and tears while he squeezed your throat. His other thumb continued to swipe against your clit in fast motions, causing your to clamp down and flutter against his thick cock.

“Shoulda known you were a whore from the start, wearing those skirts that hugged ya in all the right places. Bending over and letting me touch you how I pleased, it's like you wanted this to happen.”

The pace of his thrust increased as he started to chase his orgasm, holding your throat and hips down to use you like the hole he knew you were. He growled and snarled into your mouth as he choked you, even more, watching the blood flood to your face.

“Yeah, baby, I've got your life in my hands now. If you won't be mine, I’ll fuckin’ kill you. Then nobody can have you.”

“Y-Yours! I’m yours!” You managed to gasp out, gripping his forearm and digging your nails into it, hoping he’ll let you up for air

“Damn straight, now cum for me, you quirkless little bitch.”

The haziness from the lack of air and the pleasure pooling in your gut sent you over the edge a third time, making you cry out his name as you came. Katsuki was right behind you, eyes screwed shut and practically foaming at the mouth as he came deep inside you, finally letting you breathe once he finished himself off.

You sputtered and coughed, desperate to fill your lungs with air as he pushed some stray hairs out of your face.

“Ya did good, pipsqueak.”

He praised, giving your ass a spank before pulling out and tossing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“You’re coming home with me, so don't worry about the mess.”

“By the way, you're fired.”

TAG LIST: @tomurasprincess @suzuki-violin-school @sightoru @alrunemara

#yandere katsuki bakugo #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere bakugou x reader #yandere bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere mha #yandere bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #yandere x reader #yandere

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thebibliosphere · 3 years

Note

So I'm currently unemployed because I got fired for taking too much sick leave (it was legally sketchy blah blah blah but in the end I just can't work and take care of myself and investigate my mystery health problems at the same time). So I've been spending more time writing!

I really admire your writing and loved Hunger Pangs. I'm looking forward to the poly elements developing and I'm wondering if you have any advice for writing about poly. I've made one of my projects a snarky take on "write what you know" ... Apparently what I know is southern gothic meets Pacific northwest gothic, chronic illness pandemic surrealism, and falling back-asswards into threesomes.

I know this is a very open-ended question and I don't expect an answer, I'm just curious about it if you have the energy. As a writer, trying to write honestly / realistically about polyamory/enm, I'm curious if you have any thoughts on what's different about portraying monogamy or nonmonogamy in books, romance or erotica or otherwise.

I'm trying to read examples but it's hard to find examples that fit the niche I'm looking at. Excuse me if this question is nonsense, it's the cluster headaches.

I'm sorry to hear you've been dealing with all that and solidarity on the cluster headaches. But I'm glad you're finding an outlet through writing! And I hope you're happy with an open-ended ramble in response because oh boy, there's a lot I could talk about and I could probably do a better job of answering this sort of thing with more specific questions, but let's see where we end up.

There's definitely a big difference between writing polyamory/ENM (ethical non-monogamy) and what people often expect from monogamous love stories.

Just even from a purely sales and marketing standpoint, the moment you write anything polyamorous (or even just straight up LGBTQIA+ without the ENM) you're going to get considered closer to being erotica/obscene than hetero romances. It's an unfair bias, but it's one that exists in our society. But also the Amazon algorithm and their shitty, shitty human censors. Especially the ones that work the weekends. (Talking to you, Carlos 🖕.)

So not only do you start out hyper-aware that you're writing something that is highly stigmatized or fetishized (at least I'm hyper-aware) but that you are also writing for a niche market that is starving for positive content because the content that exists is either limited, not what they want, or is problematic in some fashion i.e. highly stigmatized or fetishy. And even then, the wants, desires, and expectations of the community you're writing for are complex and wildly varied and hard to fit into an easy formula.

When writing monogamous love stories, there is a set expectation that’s really hard to fuck up once you know it. X person meets Y. Attraction happens, followed by some sort of minor conflict/resolution. Other plot may happen. A greater catalyst involving personal growth for both parties (hopefully) happens. Follow the equation to its ultimate resolution and achieve Happily Ever After.

But writing ENM is... a lot more difficult, if only because of the pure scope of possibilities. You could try to follow the same equation and shove three (or more) people into it, but it rarely works well. Usually because if you’re doing it right, you won’t have enough room in a single character arc to allow for enough growth, and if ENM requires anything in abundance, it’s room to grow.

And this post is huge so I’m going to put the rest under a cut :)

There's also a common refrain in certain online polyam/ENM circles that triads and throuples are overrepresented in media and they may be right to some extent. Personally, I believe the issue isn't that triads and throuples are overrepresented, but that there is such minuscule positive rep of ethical non-monogamy in general, that the few tiny instances we have of triads in media make it seem like it's "everywhere" when in actuality, it's still quite rare and the media we do have often veers into Unicorn Hunter fetish porn. Which is its own problematic thing. And just to be clear, I’m not including this part to dissuade you from writing "falling back-asswards into threesomes." If anything, I need more of it and would hook it directly into my brain if I could. I'm just throwing it out there into the void in the hope that someone will take the thought and run with it, lol.

I’d love to see more polyfidelitous rep in fiction, just as much as I’d like to see more relationship anarchy too. More diversity in fiction is always good.

Another thing that differs in writing ENM romance vs conventional monogamy is the feeling like you need to justify yourself. There's a lot of pressure to be as healthy and non-problematic as possible because you are being held to a higher standard of criticism. Both from people from without the ENM communities, and from the people within. Granted, some people don't give a shit and just want to read some fantastic porn (valid) but there are those who will cheerfully read Fifty Shades of Bullshit and call it "spicy" and "romantic," then turn around and call the most tooth-rottingly-sweet-fluff about a queer platonic polycule heresy. That's just the way the world works.

(Pro-tip for author life in general: never read your own reviews; that way madness lies. I glimpsed one the other day that tagged Hunger Pangs as “ethical cheating” and just about had an aneurism.)

And while that feeling of needing to justify yourself comes from a valid place of being excluded from the table of socially accepted norms, it can also be to the detriment of both the story and the subject matter at hand. I've seen some authors bend so far over backward to avoid being problematic in their portrayal of ENM, they end up being problematic for entirely different reasons. Usually because they give such a skewed, rose-tinted perspective of how things work, it ends up coming off as well... a bit culty and obnoxious tbh.

“Look how enlightened we are, freed from the trappings of monogamy and jealousy! We’re all so honest and perfect and happy!”

Yeah, uhu, sure Jan. Except here’s the thing, not all jealousy is bad. How you act on it can be, but jealousy itself is an important tool in the junk drawer that is the range of human emotion. It can clue us in to when we’re feeling sad or neglected, which in turn means we should figure out why we’re feeling those things. Sometimes it’s because brains are just like that and anxiety is a thing. Other times it’s because our needs are actually being neglected and we are in an unhealthy situation we need to remedy. You gotta put the work in to figure it out. Which is the same as any style of relationship, whether it’s mono, polyam or whatever flavor of ENM you subscribe to* And sometimes you just gotta be messy, because that’s how humans are. Being afraid to show that mess makes it a dishonest portrayal, and it also robs you of some great cannon fodder for character development.

Which brings me in a roundabout way to my current pet peeve in how certain writers take monogamous ideals and apply them to ENM, sometimes without even realizing it. The “Find the Right Person and Settle Down” trope.

Often, in this case, ENM or polyamory is treated as a phase. Something you mature out of with age or until you meet “The One(tm).” This is, of course, an attempt to follow the mono style formula expected in most romances. And while it might appeal to many readers, it’s uh, actually quite insulting.

To give an example, I am currently seeing this a lot in the Witcher fandom.

Fanon Netflix!Jaskier is everyone's favorite ethical slut until he meets Geralt then woops, wouldn’t you know, he just needed to find The One(tm). Suddenly, all his other sexual and romantic exploits or attractions mean nothing to him. Let's watch as he throws away a core aspect of his personality in favor of a man.

Yeah... that sure showed those societal norms...

If I were being generous, I’d say it’s a poor attempt at showing New Relationship Euphoria and how wrapped up people can become in new relationships. But honestly, it’s monogamous bias eking its way in to validate how special and unique the relationship is. Because sometimes people really can’t think of any other way to show how important and valid a relationship is without defining it in terms of exclusivity. Which is a fundamental misunderstanding of how ENM works for a lot of people and invalidates a lot of loving, serious and long-term relationships.

This is not to say that some polyam/poly-leaning people can't be happy in monogamous relationships! I am! (I consider myself ambiamorous. I'm happy with either monogamy or polyamory, it really just depends on the relationship(s) I’m in.) But I also don't regard my relationship with a mono partner as "settling down" or "growing up." It's just a choice I made to be with a person I love, and it's a valid one. Just like choosing to never close yourself off to multiple relationships is valid. And I wish more people realized that, or rather, I wish the people writing these things knew that :P

Anyway, I think I’ve rambled enough. I hope this collection of incoherent thoughts actually makes some sense and might be useful.

----

*A good resource book that doesn't pull any punches in this regard is Polysecure by Jessica Fern. It's a wonderfully insightful read that explores the messier side of consensual non-monogamy, especially with how it can be affected by trauma or inter-relationship conflicts. But it also shows how to take better steps toward healthy, ethical non-monogamy (a far better job than More Than Two**) and conflict resolution, making it a valuable resource both for someone who is a part of this relationship style***, but also for writers on the outside looking in who might have a very simple or misguided idea of what conflict within polyam/ENM relationships might look like, vs traditional monogamous ones.

** The author of More Than Two has been accused of multiple accounts of abuse within the polyamorous community, with many of his coauthors having spoken out about the gaslighting and emotional and psychological damage they experienced while in a relationship with him. A lot of their stories are documented here: https://www.itrippedonthepolystair.com/ (warning: it is not light material and deals with issues of abuse, gaslighting, and a whole other plethora of Yikes.) While some people still find More Than Two helpful reading, there are now, thankfully, much, much better resources out there.

*** Some people consider polyam/ENM to be part of their identity or orientation, while others view it as a relationship style.It largely depends on the individual.

#long post #writing #ethical non-monogamy #relationship styles #relationship models in fiction #also that kindle link is an affiliate link #because fuck giving amazon free recs

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bubblegum-and-ciggarettes · 3 years

Text

“I Am Not Starfire” Review

I would like to preface this by saying these are my own opinions and you are allowed to like/dislike this comic:)))

Okay, first off I’m getting straight to the point in that I did not like this graphic novel. The art and colors were nice and some of the concepts were good, but it was poorly executed and on the line of being harmful.

No, I do not mean “sjw” harmful in which the majority of backlash for this graphic novel came from. I don’t care that Mandy(Stars daughter) is a lesbian. And I don’t care that she’s overweight. In fact, I applaud the comic for at least not mentioning anything wrong with being lgbt and barely mentioning the fact that Mandy is overweight.

We need to learn that yes, addressing things like homophobia, racism, body shaming, sexism is an issue, but we need to normalize it in media and speak out about it in person. Even if catcalling, rape, homophobia is depicted as wrong in a comic, it still fuels that hatred from those people instead of normalizing these things. Hence why being called straight and white are “normal” to those hateful people. (Which I don’t agree with obviously.)

And on that note, THAT is why this comic is harmful. Not ONLY is Star slut shamed by her own daughter, who, btw, rags on Star not liking her appearance even though Star literally has not said anything about it and is supportive of her, but she’s also talked about how hot she is by other students/people in a degrading manner.

There’s nothing wrong with being sexy, but this comic both insults Star for being sexy while also tries to show being objectified is wrong bc the people who do so are assholes. You can call a character pretty without having at least one male character shout something gross, which leads back to my whole normalizing argument.

It is harmful for Mandy, the main character we’re supposed to be rooting for, to shame her own mother for dressing how she likes, and then complains her mother doesn’t like how she looks or acts. Which??? Star doesn’t??? She never says anything about Mandys weight, hair, attitude, or grades except for the fight about Mandy walking out of the SAT.

That’s not okay. You can’t have a character wanting to be excepted for who she is while hating on everyone else.

She literally has the “I’m not like other girls” attitude and that is the best way to describe it.

Probably doesn’t help she was made practically as a self insert by a woman who clearly doesn’t know how teenagers work and was cast aside during her high school years.

I mean, seriously? Having two popular kids be mean and talk about leggings and carbs while their most popular friend rolls their eyes? Which 2000 teen movie is this one from? And like, leggings have been in style for a while now. LuLu Lemon leggings? Ever heard of them? Literally every popular so called “basic” girl has them?

What would’ve been cool is to see Mandy grow out of her “I hate girls faze”, which, is a thing most girls go through in middle school/high school until they learn slut shaming isn’t okay. That would’ve been a nice way to reconcile with her mother. The realization that “oh shit I’ve been hating my mother because of what OTHER people think and say about her. I’ve been shaming her in my head for wearing “revealing” clothes because I’m mad at how other people flock to her while I’m an outcast.” Would’ve been way better.

And the whole Blackfire thing was super rushed, and brings more questions. Why didn’t Star just fight her? She clearly can. Star would never let Blackfire hurt anyone, let alone her daughter. And what’s the point of Mandy complaining shes different and won’t live up to expectations of the PEOPLE AROUND HER not her mother, if she does in the end? She didn’t NEED to get powers, even though it was pretty obvious she would. And it would’ve tied up the story nicely if she didn’t. Hell, Star doesn’t even WANT her to be a hero.

Lastly, the love interest. She was sweet, kind, popular, and accepting. Everything Star is. I thought maybe this graphic novel would have a part where Mandy is upset because she feels Star likes her crush as a better daughter than her, but, no. She’s just a sweet girl who’s way too good for Mandy. Their whole conflict was bc she posted a picture of her with the Titans, when it was established she always posts pictures of her face and is seemed to be outgoing. And she did it because of a dare? Like literally nothing was her own fault. And even if it was, she met a bunch of heroes. Who wouldn’t take a picture with them and post it?

Mandy should’ve seen her taking the photo right? So why didn’t she just say “hey please don’t post that right now?”

Also there’s the whole mystery of her father. Which both slightly slut shames Kori because of the possibilities but at the same time heavily implies Dick is her father. Why Dick wouldn’t stay with his own daughter or let her know? Idk.

In conclusion, this comic was very bad. Not because of Mandys appearance and sexual orientation, but because of her character. Her whole thing is “I’m not like other girls”, “it’s not a phase mom”, and “you just don’t understand me.” That’s the best way to sum up her character. Star was so sweet while she was bratty. Her love interest was like a mini Star who she loved even though they have the same personality and everything. Mandy never really learned anything until Star was presumed dead/badly injured by Blackfire. Mandy was rude, slut shamed Star, and was written by someone who doesn’t understand high school and hates the “popular” kids. Lovely art and colors, shitty writing and concepts.

Overall rating: 1/10. I really did not like this comic. Dick was the best part for me which I hope says a lot.

#dc #dc comics #robin #I am not starfire #dick Grayson #nightwing #starfire #kori anders #Mandy #mandy anders #mandy grayson???

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danggerine · 3 years

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i made the mistake of reading the notes on a lot of trans naoto posts so now y’all get responses to some of the bad takes i keep seeing. buckle the fuck up

• “naoto’s arc is about sexism specific to the japanese workplace and calling her trans erases that to fit it into a western lens!!!”

you guys do know that there are japanese trans people right. like i agree that there are lots of issues with workplace sexism and gender roles in japan, but there’s also lots of issues with transphobia. y’all do know that you do not have to be white and/or live in a western country to be trans, and that queer stories and issues are GLOBAL stories and issues right.

• “naoto isn’t a man, she just pretended to be one to get respect in a male-dominated field, if you say she’s a trans man you’re ruining that whole character arc about accepting your true self!”

here’s the thing! the way that character arc was done was fucking transphobic! the trope of a woman going into disguise as a man for safety/respect/etc is tried and tested, it shows up literally everywhere, and the trope itself is not inherently transphobic. HOWEVER, when persona 4 incorporates Really Obviously Trans elements into that trope, like chest binding and literal gender reassignment surgery, then we have a problem, because now you have a cis character going through a trans narrative in the name of insecurity.

p4 does everything it can to embody the typical narrative of a young transitioning trans guy: binding, changing your name, revising official documents to be known as a man in work and school records, dressing masculine, and forming a shadow literally based on transitional surgery. plus the stuff naoto’s shadow says isn’t about being “a weak little girl” or “no one will ever take you seriously when you’re just a little girl” like you would expect it to be for someone who’s arc is supposed to be about dealing with misogyny, it’s all “you’ll never be a real man,” “you can’t cross the boundary between the sexes,” “no one will ever see you as you are” comments. you know, textbook trans guy insecurity. but the game backtracks on that and says naoto was just insecure about being a female detective and wanted people to take them seriously, and that they should get rid of these feelings and accept their true, female self.

and this is where the problem lies. when you write an obviously trans-coded narrative, but make the character experiencing it an insecure cis person or someone trying to avoid discrimination, you say either 1. trans people are really their assigned gender and are just insecure, but accepting the gender they were given at birth will make them happier and more confident or 2. being a trans man is a way for cis women to escape misogyny. 1 is obviously stupid and has been talked about by plenty of people, but 2 is a BIG problem and a wild assumption to me. being a trans man is seen as an “out” for naoto, or a solution to a problem, as if once they’re a man they’ll face no discrimination whatsoever, when in reality things like getting their gender marker changed in official documents that would allow them to go by “he” and wear the boy’s uniform at school and passing well enough to be seen as a boy in public would be a HUGE ordeal that includes a lot of stress and rejection and danger. realistically, naoto is putting themself in a really precarious position, because if they are exposed as actually afab to the media, to the detective agency, or to the school, they are set for a hell of a lot of ridicule, discrimination, and potential physical danger. but persona 4 doesn’t reflect this at all, because it’s transphobic and thinks that being trans is the easy way out for cis women experiencing misogyny!

• really any argument that boils down to “naoto is a cis woman in canon whose struggle is about sexism, not being trans”

like i already addressed enough of this, i think, but what really gets me is that kanji’s arc is fucked up in a lot of the same ways naoto is and no one is clowning on posts about kanji being gay? his shadow is a very clear (and offensive) gay caricature, and his narrative is very much one about a mlm guy experiencing homophobia from his peers and acting out because of that. and yet the game backtracks to saying “oh no it’s not about liking men, kanji is insecure about his femininity and softer hobbies because of toxic masculinity” and then literally uses naoto to refute his queerness because “look the only guy kanji was ever shown as attracted to was ACTUALLY a woman all along and now that kanji knows she’s a girl he can be openly attracted to her!” in canon, naoto is about as cis as kanji is straight, and yet EVERYONE is on board for portraying kanji as gay in fan works like it’s not even a question, but there has to be a huge debate anytime anyone wants to call naoto trans. legitimately, i think i’ve seen someone argue about kanji being mlm on a post...once? ever? meanwhile every post about naoto being trans has to have a horde of discourse, i’m literally already prepping for the bad notes this post will get because y’all cannot leave this ALONE

in conclusion, i am not saying that everyone has to think naoto is a trans man or forcing anyone to stop liking a character in the way they want or anything like that. i am saying that the naoto’s canon character arc is transphobic and if you’re trying to fight with trans people about how they want to reclaim something that uses a lot of their experiences, don’t.

#this is petty as shit and it’s probably going to get me into sooooo much DiscourseTM but i got frutsrated #really out here writing a fucking dissertation about the opinions people i’ve never met have about a 10+ year old game lmao #gale make a post that isn’t 10 miles long challenge #but i cant HELP it i love naoto so much he is so so trans to me #persona 4 #naoto shirogane #persona #trans naoto #my thoughts

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itsallyscorner · 3 years

Note

hey love ❤️ i hope you’re doing good and healthy but i was wondering if you could do a little mix!reader after she gave birth to tom and her’s child. maybe when the girls meet their niece or nephew

💌

The World’s Greatest Aunties

Pairing: Tom Holland x fem!reader, Little Mix x fem!reader

Summary: The girls finally get to meet Baby Holland for the first time.

Warnings: none, spelling errors?

A/n: Hey darling! Thank you so much for the request, I’m so sorry that it took so long. I took a small break from writing Tom fics and writing in general because I needed to recharge the author part of my brain😭😂 I was lacking motivation to write but I’m back now! Thank you again for the request and I hope you like it!💞

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

(Pinterest)

✧───── ･｡ﾟ★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧

Five pairs of eyes peered over the bassinet, a twinkle of admiration in each one. The house was quiet except for the low hums of the music that played softly in the living room. Occasionally, they would hear the light clicks and taps of Tessa’s nails against the floors. The five of them were quiet, letting out a little coo here and there when the tiny bundle in the bassinet fidgeted.

“I can’t believe you actually made a baby.” Leigh-Anne whispered, cautiously steadying her voice at a quieter tone. You all nodded, agreeing to her comment.

You glance at Tom, who was stood beside you, “We weren’t even planning on having a baby. Someone’s pull-out game was just very weak.”

Tom’s mouth gaped at your statement, a false offended look on his features. “Well, you weren’t complaining while it was happening.”

“Did you really think I’d be in the right headspace to realize how bad your pull-out game was after being railed to the bed?” You quizzed him, standing up straight and placing your hands on your hips.

Jesy’s eyes shifted between you and Tom, “Are you two really talking about how irresponsible you guys are at sex in front of the baby you both made—because of irresponsible sex?”

“But isn’t she the cutest outcome of irresponsible sex?” Perrie cooed, leaning closer to the opening of the bassinet. Tom smirks at you before slinging his arm around your shoulder, “We made a beautiful baby, didn’t we?”

“Don’t flatter yourself Thomas, I’m sure Amelia’s 90 percent (Y/n) and 10 percent you.” Jesy comments, earning her some chuckles from the rest of you except for Tom. Though they’ve know each other for years, and he’s proved himself worthy of you, that still didn’t stop Jesy from giving him a hard time. Of course, all the petty arguments were all in good fun. He’s been slowly growing on her anyway.

“Well she’s definitely got (y/n)’s lips.” Leigh-Anne observed, admiring the sweet baby from above. You leaned your head on Tom’s shoulder as you watched Amelia scrunch her tiny nose.

“But her nose, without a doubt, is Tom’s.” You point out, watching your baby snuggle into her blanket.

“Honestly, you know how some babies are just not cute when they’re first born?” Jade began, voice remaining in a whisper. A few sounds of agreement were heard amongst you all. “Amelia’s probably one of the most cutest newborns I’ve ever seen, and she’s only a few weeks old.”

Tom’s lips morph into a soft smile as he leans back down towards Amelia, “She’s gorgeous isn’t she?” His large hand creeping closer to his daughter to brush his fingers along her chubby cheeks. Though the contact of his cold digits made her jolt, causing a sob to bubble out her small body. Tom gasped, turning around to give you an apologetic look. Before the girls arrived, you had put Amelia down for a nap so she wouldn’t be fussy once the girls were over. You were planning on waiting till she woke up to properly introduce her to the girls, but things don’t always go as planned, do they?

“Oh no!” Perrie cried, moving out the way so Tom can gather Amelia into his arms. Tom held her against his chest, shushing her and slightly bouncing his body to ease her wailing.

“I’m so sorry, sunshine. Daddy didn’t mean to wake you.” He apologized, genuinely feeling bad for waking her up from her nap. He whispered comforting words into her ear, not phased by the fact that she couldn’t even understand him yet. He pressed kisses on the crown of Amelia’s head, trying to calm her down.

“Look at that, she even got your vocals too.” Jesy hummed, smiling at the crying baby against Tom’s chest. You laughed, stretching your hands out towards Tom. Just by the gesture, he knew what you meant. The two of you have only been parents for almost a month now and every single day it seemed like you were both picking up new habits—specifically parental ones. It was like the start of your relationship again, you were leaning new things about each other, but this time as parents.

“Aww, c’mere darling, momma’s got you.” You cooed as Tom helped you place her against your chest. Her tiny head was snuggled into the crook of your neck, the warmth coming from your skin soothing her. You had a hand under her bum while the other was rubbing circles onto her back. Slowly, her cries softened until they were replaced by her cute baby gurgles.

“Are you crying?” Perrie asked. You turned around to see who the question was directed to. Only to find Jesy wiping her eyes and fanning them with her hands. She shook her head trying to brush off Perrie’s question.

“Babe,” you called out to her, “Why are you crying?”

You body gently swayed side to side, trying to entertain Amelia. You all looked at Jesy, an amused yet concerned expression on all your faces. When she felt like her tears weren’t about to spill from her eyes, she tilted her head to look at you again.

“I’m just—you’re an actual mother. Like look at you, you’re so grown up.” She sniffed, eyes watering up again. Jesy and the rest of the girls were just a few years older than you. Being the youngest of the group, they’ve always been protective of you and viewed you as their younger sister. They watched you grow up into an amazing woman, watched you fall in love with Tom, and now here you were—as a mother. The sight was quite emotional.

“Aw Jess.” You walk closer to her, using one of your arms to embrace her. Jesy chokes on her laugh, “No! Don’t hug me, you’re gonna make me cry even more.”

You ignore her protests and continue to wrap your arm around her neck. Jesy allows the hug to happen, wrapping both her arms around your waist.

“It’s okay, I cried a few times too.” Tom tells her comfortingly, handing her a tissue from over your shoulder. She takes it, thanking him quietly, and dabbing her eyes. You hear some more sniffles around the room. Breaking your hug with Jesy, you look around to see Perrie, Jade, and Leigh-Anne with glossy eyes.

“Guys...” You sigh.

“It just sunk in that you’re a mum now. Like you need to take care of another human being and help them become a person and all that.” Jade summed up, blinking away tears. Tom took it upon himself to wordlessly pass around tissues to the four women in the room.

Leigh-Anne came up behind you to move your hair over your shoulders, “You’re gonna teach her so many lessons about life. You’re gonna be the first person she’ll always look up to and her first best friend—I’m so excited for you.”

“I have life lessons too, ya know.” Tom interjected, slightly raising his hand. Jesy glances at him and scoffs, “You have the body of a twelve year old and you cry in movies for a living. What could you possibly learn from that?”

“I don’t cry in all my movies.” He defended himself.

You move your head to look at Tom, “Darling, you’ve literally cried in four out of the five Marvel movies you’ve been in. That speaks volumes.”

Jade’s eyes shifted between Jesy and Tom, “I thought we were having a sentimental moment, how did we go from that to hating on Tom.”

“Because, he’s Tom.”

Tom crossed his arms, squinting at you all, “You know, I thought having Amelia would make you guys like me more—but no, I just can’t catch a break from you lot.”

A joyful sound emitted from Amelia, catching everyone’s attention. The girls cooed and awed at the new member of their little family.

“Oh hello precious!” Perrie squealed leaning down beside you so she can see Amelia’s face. Your baby’s eyes were wide as she stared at the faces crowding above her.

“D’you guys wanna hold her?” The girls eagerly nod, bodies filling with excitement. You handed Amelia to Jesy, showing her how to properly hold your newborn baby. With her new niece’s head resting against her shoulder, she feels her heart swell with joy.

“Oh my, she’s lovely.” She whispered softly, her hand cradling Amelia’s head. She ducks her head to get a closer look at her face, chuckling when she sees the combination of you and Tom on Amelia’s features. Jesy catches a whiff of the newborn baby smell radiating off of her—you know, that light weight baby powder-ish smell?

“And she smells so good!” Jesy announced enthusiastically. Perrie frowns, “I wanna smell the baby.”

“Too bad, you can’t.” Jade teases, poking fun at Perrie’s inability to smell. Jesy passes Amelia to Perrie, who makes grabby hands at her before wrapping her arms around Amelia’s tiny form.

“I’m so sorry for exposing you to the media.” She tells the baby, a chorus of laughter following her apology. Perrie gently pokes Amelia’s cheeks with her finger, “Your cheeks! I just want to squish ‘em and smother you with kisses!”

“I think you’ve had enough time with the baby, my turn!” Leigh-Anne jokes, holding her hands out for Amelia. Perrie carefully hands her to Leigh-Anne, who instantly melts once she holds Amelia against her.

“I want one now.” She whines.

“Ask Andre, I’m sure he’ll give you one in no time.” You wink at her, gesturing to the ring on her left hand. You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if she became pregnant anytime soon. Leigh-Anne took her time holding Amelia, basking in the cloud of baby fever she was currently experiencing. Your daughter was then passed onto Jade, who was thrilled to show her niece all the gifts she had bought her.

You all watched as Jade ventured towards the couch, kindly asking Tom to fetch the large bag that was at your entrance alongside the piles of packages from your family and friends. Ever since you and Tom brought Amelia home, there has been a never ending amount of gifts being delivered to your home. The items ranged from clothes, toys, to diapers, and baby bottles. Your house was practically filled to the brim with baby supplies.

Jade settles on the couch; adjusting Amelia so she can cradle her with her arm and using her free hand to pull out gifts from the bag. You and the rest of the girls sit around her, while Tom looked over the couch behind you.

“You guys really didn’t have to get us anything, just being here and letting us share this moment with you is enough for me.” You expressed, Tom agreeing with you. Jade simply brushed you off, “Oh hush up, let us spoil Amelia. She’s going to be the sixth member of our band, so we need to make sure she’s got the best clothes to look like her mummy and aunties.”

Jade proceeds to pull out a bunch of Disney themed items out from the bag. “Oh you’re gonna love this, I found a bunch off onesies that were princess themed—look!” Jade held up the hanger of multiple Disney onesies for your daughter. “Look Amelia, there’s one for every princess!” You couldn’t help but let out a laugh when Jade began to show every item she bought for Amelia.

Your and Tom’s jaws dropped when she pulled out a Minnie Mouse headband made for babies.

“That is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, lemme see.” Tom held his hand out towards Jade who handed him the headband. You watched adoringly as Tom inspected the headband, looking at it with fascination. He caught your stare and proudly held up the head band, “Baby, we’ve gotta take her to Disney.”

“Oh, we definitely are, don’t worry.” You assure him, making him proudly fist the air. Without any of you noticing, Jesy slipped out the room to get the gift bag she left out at the entrance.

“I’ve got something too!” She sang entering the living room. She sat back on the couch, Jade passing Amelia to her once she was comfortable.

“Alright, ya ready precious?” Jesy asked Amelia, who grabbed at the bag with her hands. Jesy took her hands in hers and helped Amelia ‘take out’ the tissue paper from the bag.

“Since I know your parents are two of the biggest Harry Potter nerds, I decided to get you this because I know they’ll flip.” She explained before pulling out a baby Hogwarts costume.

“Jesy!” You gasped, leaning in to get a closer look at the clothes.

“They have Harry Potter merch for babies?” Tom exclaimed, rushing to stand behind Jesy’s part of the couch. He began to ramble, asking her where she bought the clothes and if there were more.

Jesy held her hand out to stop Tom from talking, “Wait, wait—WAIT, Jesus Thomas, you’re more excited for these clothes than your daughter.”

Tom shrugged, “Well she can’t express any feelings yet, so I’ll do it.”

“Here.” She passed the costume to him making him cheer. “The costume came with another thing actually.” Jesy took out a baby Hogwarts robe, making you gasp again.

“It comes with the robes too?” You asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, it was an entire set!” Jesy proudly answered. Tom ran his hand along the robe, touching the soft fabric. He let out a squeal, “I love it!”

“Tom darling, the clothes are for Amelia, not you.” Perrie teasingly reminded him. Tom brushes off her comment, “(Y/n), we could all dress up as Hogwarts students for Halloween! We could match costumes!” Tom was practically buzzing with excitement, not allowing you to give him a response.

“Thank you Jesy, it’s nice to know that you have a soft spot for me.” He bumped his fist against her shoulder, which she glared at.

“I don’t have a soft spot for you, twit.”

“Yes you do, you knew I liked Harry Potter.” He held up the Hogwarts costume, “And you got Amelia a baby Hogwarts costume. You went out of your way to give us this gift. It’s enough proof, Jes.”

“I got it for (Y/n).” Jesy argued.

Tom crossed his arms, “Just admit that you like me.”

“No, you’re a menace.” You all watched the exchange between the two. A goofy grin was on his face as he spread his arms out, “I’m gonna hug you now.” Before Jesy can respond, Tom had wrapped his arms around Jesy. She groaned, squirming in his grip.

“Thank you Jesy!” He sang, taking the piss out of annoying her. She smacked his arm, “I get it. Now get off, I’m holding your child!”

Tom lets go with a smile on his face.

“She likes me.” He mouthed to you, motioning to Jesy. You shook your head at him, chuckling.

The girls continued to give Amelia their gifts. Perrie got her a bunch of classic children’s books and some toys. Leigh-Anne had given you a diaper bag and a “mommy and me” set of clothes. You were instantly obsessed with the matching sets, now you and your baby girl can have matching outfits. The night was full of the girls passing Amelia around and playing with her. She hadn’t cried for a single second, happy with the attention she was getting and constantly being held. There was no doubt that she would sleep soundly tonight, much to your and Tom’s content.

You watched as the girls circled around Amelia in the living room. Perrie was currently holding her, talking about how she couldn’t wait to spoil her with all the cutest baby clothes and toys. You overheard them talking about all the things they wanted to teach her; like how to sing. A smile had crept its way onto your lips without you noticing. Suddenly a pair of arms wrap around your waist.

Tom presses a kiss onto your shoulder and rests his chin on it, “You know she’s the luckiest baby in the world? And I’m not just saying that because she’s our child, but she’s really lucky. We’re very lucky.”

“We are, aren’t we?” You hum, leaning your weight against his chest, something he happily welcomes.

“She’s got two amazing parents. That’s us.” He squeezes you and continues his list, “She has grandparents who already love her, a bunch of protective uncles, and the world’s greatest aunties in her corner.” He finished, gesturing to the women in the living room. Yeah, you guys were lucky.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

🏷Tags ↴

*if there is a cross through your username, tumblr won’t let me tag you:(*

Little Mix!Reader tags

↪︎ @waxingmoonwrites @slutforsebstan @starslazyandcosy @xkonpinkx @dummiesshort @gypsystuf @kielemarie @wroetospidey @thatgirlangelb @have-aheart @adayasgeorgia @xeniarocks @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @agustdowney @itssmadelyn @imthebadguyyy @tomsirishgirlx @roseke @kaylans-imagines @bi-lmg @holsj2411

Tom Holland tags

↪︎ @lovableparker @aprettyfleur @sunwardsss @dummiesshort @thotforcriminalminds @cuddlykoala101 @itstaskeen @whoslili @white-wolf1940 @tomsirishgirlx @roseke @kaylans-imagines @spideyspeaches @slutforsebstan

General tags

↪︎ @quxxnxfhxll @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @thegirlwiththediary @agustdowney @bi-lmg @rqmanoff @sesamepancakes @stardustofreading @dracoswhore007 @amourtentiaa @alyssathesoftie

#Tom Holland #tom holland x singer!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagines #tom holland fluff #tom holland one shot #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland drabble #tom holland headcanon #little mix #perrie edwards #jesy nelson #leigh anne pinnock #jade thirlwall #thomas stanley holland #ally’s requests

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anime-lover-forever-1127 · 2 years

Text

To Love & To Hold... Even With Vervain Skin - Part 1 {Klaroline}

To Love & To Hold... Even With Vervain Skin {Part 1}

*****

Disclaimer - (Cause fanfiction is tricky ground and I hope not to offend the creator of the original story and get sued)

I do not own "The Vampire Diaries", it belongs to its original creator Kevin Williamson, Julie Plec, and L. J. Smith. Nor do I own "Originals", which belongs to it's rightful creator Julie Plec, Michael Narducci, Leslie Morgenstein, Gina Girolamo. This is only a fanfiction that I was inspired to write by the original work. Please support the official release of "The Vampire Diaries" and "Originals". Most of the media - such as the art and illustrations, gifs, video's, etc. used in this fanfiction - are from the web. Thus, most of them aren't mine (because I really, really can't draw) unless mentioned. To fit the story, images are also edited by various apps and websites. So they aren't mine, just edited.

Also if you own a picture or Video that I found online, and you either want your name added, or me to take it down. Please contact me and we can talk it out. P.s. I also ask that you do not copy my work and publish it onto any other website.

If you're gonna use my idea, please ask me (If you ask nicely, I for sure, will agree). If I don't contact you within a week, then just assume I'm giving you the all clear and go for it. Just remember to credit me and the story you are getting the idea from.

Warnings: Cami Bashing, Daviana Bashing

Info You Might Need To Know: "Speaking", The spell here, turned Caroline's skin into vervain, for vampires

Word Count: 1.9K

Summary: What if, when Caroline has the vervain spell on her, the gang, out of options. Decides to call the Big Bad wolf. It isn't far-fetched to say that the love of his life having vervain skin, is against his interests as well. So this story will clearly end in one of two ways. Either the heretic's will be forced to remove the spell, or Klaus is gonna end up building a heck of a tolerance to vervain.

*****

Today's Special

Holding on to love is not wrong, but you need to learn to hold it lightly, caressingly. Let it fly when it wants. When it's allowed to be free, love is what makes life alive, joyful, and new. As long as love is in my heart, it's everywhere.

~Michael Jackson

*****

Enzo felt guilt eat up at him as he watched Caroline cuddle Bonnie, the only one of her friends she would touch without hurting anyone.

This was his fault, is he did hand her over to them then she wound't have to stupid vervain spell placed on her in the first place.

But how would he possibly fix this mistake?

Bonnie had tried everything and it didn't work; and he didn't know any other witches either.

Suddenly, an idea struck Enzo and a smirk appeared onto his face. "Hey gorgeous." He called, walking up to the pair of girls.

The blond in question raised her head, "Hum?"

"Can I borrow your phone, I need to make a call." He said.

"What happened to yours?" Bonnie questioned.

"It's batteries died. I'm still not used to charging it." The older vampire lied effortlessly.

"All right." Caroline sighed, handing her phone over to him. "But make it quick."

Enzo rolled his eyes, "Honestly, I don't think I'd ever be able to understand your generation and their attachment to their gadgets."

*****

Once Enzo was sure he was out of the baby vampire's hearing range, he opened up her contacts. He scrolled through them, desperately trying to find one labeled, 'Klaus'.

But had no luck.

So he decided to start from the top once again. This time, a name stood out to him. 'Nik'. Didn't Damon mention that Klaus' full name was Niklaus.

Hoping he was right, Enzo quickly clicked the number. Before the first ring was even finished, the person on the other end had picked up.

"Hello love. To what do I owe the pleasure of your phone call this fine morning?" A voice practically purred.

"Sorry. Not gorgeous." Enzo informed the man. By the sound of it, it looks like this was the man he was looking for.

"Why do you have Caroline's phone?" Klaus demanded, all pleasantness void from his voice.

Enzo had to force himself to not back down in front of the ice cold tone. "Listen, I mean her no harm. But she has a particularly nasty spell on her. She could really use your help."

"What happened?" Klaus asked, pouring himself a drink.

"A heretic, a siphon witch and vampire hybrid put a spell on Caroline. Because of it, her skin is vervain to any vampire who touches it. Bonnie has tried to remove the spell, but failed. So I was hoping you may know a witch who could help. Because you know, her burning you whenever you touch her, makes for a pretty sad love story. One you know she'd never go for. So witches?"

"I know several." Klaus answered. "I'll bring one down to help. If she isn't willing, I'll drag her by her hair if I have to."

"What time should I expect you?" Enzo asked.

"I'll be there in two hours." Klaus answered.

Enzo blinked surprised. He expected a response, but not one that quick. But he guessed a perk of being a thousand year old hybrid is the various resources at your fingertips.

*****

Klaus started making arrangements as soon as he hung up the call. He took the rest of his drink like a shot, and proceeded to walk out of his room.

He texted one of his compelled vampire's to make arrangements to get their plane ready. The quicker he got there, the better.

He knew that Caroline was a very social creature by nature. He could only imagine how horrible it must be for her, not being able to come in contact with the people around her; knowing that if she did. She'd only be hurting them.

He refused to let her suffer when he could prevent it.

It was a spell he was dealing with, so as much as he admitted it. He was going to need Kol's expert opinion on this one.

Klaus flashed to Rousseau's, where Kol would be found this time of day. The hybrid walked into the bar to find his brother sitting on one of the stools, the harvest girl desperately hanging off of him. Eating up every word he said.

Cami was working one of the early shifts today, he recalled with a sight, meaning Marcel would be here today too.

"Kol." Klaus called, gaming his little brother's attention. "Get up. We need to leave. And the drink stays behind, I need you sober for this."

Kol protested as his brother grabbed his arm, "What! No. I'm staying."

"We're going to Mystic Falls. You're gonna end up seeing the Bennett witch." Klaus tempted him. And his brother, ever so taken by the Bennett witch, quikly stood up.

"Why didn't you say so?" He asked cheerfully. "Why couldn't you have led with that."

Daviana's nails dug into her palm painfully as she watched how excited Kol got at the mere mention of this witch.

"So what happened to Caroline?" Kol asked, curious.

Klaus' eyes narrowed, "How do you know something happened to Caroline?" Klaus demanded.

Kol rolled his eyes, "Please. Why else would you be making this trip to Mystic Falls. So what happened to her?"

Klaus sighed, "She got cursed. A spell was put on her, that turned her skin into vervain for vampires."

"Who's Caroline?" Cami asked, eavesdropping onto their conversation.

Kol, never liking the trampy bartender, smirked, "She's the love of Nik's eternal life."

This caught Marcel's attention too.

"I want to come along."

"Take me with you!"

"I'm coming too!"

Marcel, Daviana, and Cami said in unison.

Klaus was about to say no, but was cut off by Kol, "Sure."

"They aren't coming." Klaus growled at the younger original.

"Oh, and why not?" Kol asked. "We need a witch. I'm willing to bet my poor Bonnie has already exhausted herself silly trying to find a way to break the spell. She deserves some rest. I honestly couldn't care less about Marcel. But I truly want to see the look on Cami's face when she realizes she's nothing but a cheap Caroline copy." Kol said shamelessly.

He didn't voice it, but Kol was quite fond of the baby vampire that had captured his brother's undead heart. The woman was the only one who had the decency to cover his charred corpse.

"Fine." Klaus caved. The longer he spent here, the more time Caroline spent under that spell. So he'd give his brother this one, if it meant they'd be on that plane quicker.

Kol laughs, "I guess if we can't find a way to break the spell, or cure her. Then you're gonna have to build up quite a tolerance to vervain, won't you."

Klaus glared at his brother, but didn't deny his statement.

Cami laughed, thinking he was joking, but was shut up when Klaus interrupted her, "I would."

Cami watched, shocked, "Surely you're joking."

Klaus, without sparing her a single glance, answered, "Of course I would. If nothing else can be done about her condition. Then that's what I'm going to have to do. I'm not going to spend eternity without touching her again, just because it burns a bit."

Marcel listened to his anwer, his mouth gaping open. Vervain was like acid to a vampire. He should know, consideirng her spend months torturing himself by drinking it. Just so Klaus wouldn't win. Much good that did. Klaus still got that city. But he knew how much it hurt. So saying it burned a bit, was a clear understatement.

But Klaus would happily supper that pain if Caroline would allow him to hold her.

*****

I ended up hitting a bit of a roadblock with this idea, so I decided to split this chapter up into two parts. The second one is likely gonna be longer.

I watched episode 2 of the Originals, for the sake of my story "Expecting Pups". And there was one Cami scene. Like just seeing her one screen made me wanna bash my head into a wall. I haven't really watched much of the Originals yet either, but from what I heard. She literally tried to diagnose him with things (one of which I hear to being practically daddy issues). And tried to make excuses for his behavior.

Something I loved about Caroline was she never made excuses for him. She knew he was a bad person, but she still loved him. She did try to bring out his humanity, but never tried to change him completely or excuse his actions. One of the reasons she resisted him so much was because she knew he was bad.

I guess the writers for the originals wanted to destroy his character either way. So they didn't really care how bad Cami was for his character.

Like I watched a video titled Cami and Hayley bossing Klaus and Elijah around for four minutes (or something like that). and it disgusted me. Like come on, he's not afraid to slap girls (example: when he bitch slapped Elena)

Also, if you liked my story. Go check out Klaroline Mikaelson on ; she has a similar story of Klaus helping Caroline when she has vervain skin, up there. Along with other great Klaroline fanfics.

Anyways,

KLAROLINE FOR LIFE!

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qqueenofhades · 3 years

Note

Hi. I’m curious. What did you mean by “women who read fiction might get Bad Ideas!!!” has just reached its latest and stupidest form via tumblr purity culture.? I haven’t seen any of this but I’m new to tumblr.

Oh man. You really want to get me into trouble on, like, my first day back, don’t you?

Pretty much all of this has been explained elsewhere by people much smarter than me, so this isn’t necessarily going to say anything new, but I’ll do my best to synthesize and summarize it. As ever, it comes with the caveat that it is my personal interpretation, and is not intended as the be-all, end-all. You’ll definitely run across it if you spend any time on Tumblr (or social media in general, including Twitter, and any other fandom-related spaces). This will get long.

In short: in the nineteenth century, when Gothic/romantic literature became popular and women were increasingly able to read these kinds of novels for fun, there was an attendant moral panic over whether they, with their weak female brains, would be able to distinguish fiction from reality, and that they might start making immoral or inappropriate choices in their real life as a result. Obviously, there was a huge sexist and misogynistic component to this, and it would be nice to write it off entirely as just hysterical Victorian pearl-clutching, but that feeds into the “lol people in the past were all much stupider than we are today” kind of historical fallacy that I often and vigorously shut down. (Honestly, I’m not sure how anyone can ever write the “omg medieval people believed such weird things about medicine!” nonsense again after what we’ve gone through with COVID, but that is a whole other rant.) The thinking ran that women shouldn’t read novels for fear of corrupting their impressionable brains, or if they had to read novels at all, they should only be the Right Ones: i.e., those that came with a side of heavy-handed and explicit moralizing so that they wouldn’t be tempted to transgress. Of course, books trying to hammer their readers over the head with their Moral Point aren’t often much fun to read, and that’s not the point of fiction anyway. Or at least, it shouldn’t be.

Fast-forward to today, and the entire generation of young, otherwise well-meaning people who have come to believe that being a moral person involves only consuming the “right” kind of fictional content, and being outrageously mean to strangers on the internet who do not agree with that choice. There are a lot of factors contributing to this. First, the advent of social media and being subject to the judgment of people across the world at all times has made it imperative that you demonstrate the “right” opinions to fit in with your peer-group, and on fandom websites, that often falls into a twisted, hyper-critical, so-called “progressivism” that diligently knows all the social justice buzzwords, but has trouble applying them in nuance, context, and complicated real life. To some extent, this obviously is not a bad thing. People need to be critical of the media they engage with, to know what narratives the creator(s) are promoting, the tropes they are using, the conclusions that they are supporting, and to be able to recognize and push back against genuinely harmful content when it is produced – and this distinction is critical – by professional mainstream creators. Amateur, individual fan content is another kettle of fish. There is a difference between critiquing a professional creator (though social media has also made it incredibly easy to atrociously abuse them) and attacking your fellow fan and peer, who is on the exact same footing as you as a consumer of that content.

Obviously, again, this doesn’t mean that you can’t call out people who are engaging in actually toxic or abusive behavior, fans or otherwise. But certain segments of Tumblr culture have drained both those words (along with “gaslighting”) of almost all critical meaning, until they’re applied indiscriminately to “any fictional content that I don’t like, don’t agree with, or which doesn’t seem to model healthy behavior in real life” and “anyone who likes or engages with this content.” Somewhere along the line, a reactionary mindset has been formed in which the only fictional narratives or relationships are those which would be “acceptable” in real life, to which I say…. what? If I only wanted real life, I would watch the news and only read non-fiction. Once again, the underlying fear, even if it’s framed in different terms, is that the people (often women) enjoying this content can’t be trusted to tell the difference between fiction and reality, and if they like “problematic” fictional content, they will proceed to seek it out in their real life and personal relationships. And this is just… not true.

As I said above, critical media studies and thoughtful consumption of entertainment are both great things! There have been some great metas written on, say, the Marvel Cinematic Universe and how it is increasingly relying on villains who have outwardly admirable motives (see: the Flag Smashers in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier) who are then stigmatized by their anti-social, violent behavior and attacks on innocent people, which is bad even as the heroes also rely on violence to achieve their ends. This is a clever way to acknowledge social anxieties – to say that people who identify with the Flag Smashers are right, to an extent, but then the instant they cross the line into violence, they’re upsetting the status quo and need to be put down by the heroes. I watched TFATWS and obviously enjoyed it. I have gone on a Marvel re-watching binge recently as well. I like the MCU! I like the characters and the madcap sci-fi adventures! But I can also recognize it as a flawed piece of media that I don’t have to accept whole-cloth, and to be able to criticize some of the ancillary messages that come with it. It doesn’t have to be black and white.

When it comes to shipping, moreover, the toxic culture of “my ship is better than your ship because it’s Better in Real Life” ™ is both well-known and in my opinion, exhausting and pointless. As also noted, the whole point of fiction is that it allows us to create and experience realities that we don’t always want in real life. I certainly enjoy plenty of things in fiction that I would definitely not want in reality: apocalyptic space operas, violent adventures, and yes, garbage men. A large number of my ships over the years have been labeled “unhealthy” for one reason or another, presumably because they don’t adhere to the stereotype of the coffee-shop AU where there’s no tension and nobody ever makes mistakes or is allowed to have serious flaws. And I’m not even bagging on coffee-shop AUs! Some people want to remove characters from a violent situation and give them that fluff and release from the nonstop trauma that TV writers merrily inflict on them without ever thinking about the consequences. Fanfiction often focuses on the psychology and healing of characters who have been through too much, and since that’s something we can all relate to right now, it’s a very powerful exercise. As a transformative and interpretive tool, fanfic is pretty awesome.

The problem, again, comes when people think that fic/fandom can only be used in this way, and that going the other direction, and exploring darker or complicated or messy dynamics and relationships, is morally bad. As has been said before: shipping is not activism. You don’t get brownie points for only having “healthy” ships (and just my personal opinion as a queer person, these often tend to be heterosexual white ships engaging in notably heteronormative behavior) and only supporting behavior in fiction that you think is acceptable in real life. As we’ve said, there is a systematic problem in identifying what that is. Ironically, for people worried about Women Getting Ideas by confusing fiction and reality, they’re doing the same thing, and treating fiction like reality. Fiction is fiction. Nobody actually dies. Nobody actually gets hurt. These people are not real. We need to normalize the idea of characters as figments of a creator’s imagination, not actual people with their own agency. They exist as they are written, and by the choice of people whose motives can be scrutinized and questioned, but they themselves are not real. Nor do characters reflect the author’s personal views. Period.

This feeds into the fact that the internet, and fandom culture, is not intended as a “safe space” in the sense that no questionable or triggering content can ever be posted. Archive of Our Own, with its reams of scrupulous tagging and requests for you to explicitly click and confirm that you are of age to see M or E-rated content, is a constant target of the purity cultists for hosting fictional material that they see as “immoral.” But it repeatedly, unmistakably, directly asks you for your consent to see this material, and if you then act unfairly victimized, well… that’s on you. You agreed to look at this, and there are very few cases where you didn’t know what it entailed. Fandom involves adults creating contents for adults, and while teenagers and younger people can and do participate, they need to understand this fact, rather than expecting everything to be a PG Disney movie.

When I do write my “dark” ships with garbage men, moreover, they always involve a lot of the man being an idiot, being bluntly called out for an idiot, and learning healthier patterns of behavior, which is one of the fundamental patterns of romance novels. But they also involve an element of the woman realizing that societal standards are, in fact, bullshit, and she can go feral every so often, as a treat. But even if I wrote them another way, that would still be okay! There are plenty of ships and dynamics that I don’t care for and don’t express in my fic and fandom writing, but that doesn’t mean I seek out the people who do like them and reprimand them for it. I know plenty of people who use fiction, including dark fiction, in a cathartic way to process real-life trauma, and that’s exactly the role – one of them, at least – that fiction needs to be able to fulfill. It would be terribly boring and limited if we were only ever allowed to write about Real Life and nothing else. It needs to be complicated, dark, escapist, unreal, twisted, and whatever else. This means absolutely zilch about what the consumers of this fiction believe, act, or do in their real lives.

Once more, I do note the misogyny underlying this. Nobody, after all, seems to care what kind of books or fictional narratives men read, and there’s no reflection on whether this is teaching them unhealthy patterns of behavior, or whether it predicts how they’ll act in real life. (There was some of that with the “do video games cause mass shootings?”, but it was a straw man to distract from the actual issues of toxic masculinity and gun culture.) Certain kinds of fiction, especially historical fiction, romance novels, and fanfic, are intensely gendered and viewed as being “women’s fiction” and therefore hyper-criticized, while nobody’s asking if all the macho-man potboiler military-intrigue tough-guy stereotypical “men’s fiction” is teaching them bad things. So the panic about whether your average woman on the internet is reading dark fanfic with an Unhealthy Ship (zomgz) is, in my opinion, misguided at best, and actively destructive at worst.

#long post #anonymous #ask

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duskamethyst · 3 years

Text

make it right.

a/n: i was on a writing high. i initially hated this so much but ended up with 12 pages long.

word count: 5.1k

genre: mature, smut, nsfw, angst to fluff

warnings: mentions of abortion, pregnancy

pairing: hawks x f!reader

𝅘𝅥𝅮 music rec: the reason by hoobastank 𝅘𝅥𝅮

summary: you told keigo that you’re carrying his child but he didn’t take it well. five years later he shows up in front of your door after being invited by his son and says he wants to fix everything.

you lean down towards the counter as you concentrate on creating pretty swirls of cream on the cake you baked with a piping bag. the dining table is full of food, a feast almost too huge for only two people, but you have a good excuse. it is a special day. your son’s fifth birthday to be exact.

kids these days can be ruthless and your son doesn’t get along very well with the other kids from his kindergarten. they like picking on others that seem too fragile, too quiet – criteria that fits him well and it doesn’t help with the fact that they know he’s growing up without a father. your child never opened up to you about the constant mocking he faced until one day you overheard him sobbing through his pillow in his own room. it was dark, though the door was still open by an inch to allow a small amount of light to penetrate into the room whenever he slept. he said he wanted to sleep earlier because he was tired but the muffling sounds he tried to conceal betrayed his efforts when you passed by later that night.

it made you angry and disappointed in yourself. you really tried your best to juggle between being a mom and a dad at the same time, keeping an eye on your child and working your ass off to make a living for the two of you. you’d always put up a tough front, never broke down in front of him when you were dead tired from being overworked and the thought of him trying to not make you worry, shattered your heart into pieces. you know that all he deserves is a good life and you constantly blame yourself for not being good enough, mostly angry at your past self for not even knowing how to make good decisions and think things through.

if only you could turn back time, you would tell yourself to never get involved with a pro hero – to never get involved with someone who feels so responsible for other strangers’ lives but not their own child’s.

were you being selfish? for not understanding that his work always comes first? he can’t possibly have a family when he has villains out there that need to be put in their right place for their crimes. were you expecting too much from him?

“can’t you… get rid of it?” he muttered. his cold words felt like a sharp blade that just stabbed you in the heart. never once you thought that he would say that. how easy was it for him to ask you to throw out another life like it meant nothing?

“keigo, you can’t be serious.” you shook your head, your legs were already wobbling and you felt sick to your stomach. this news should be happy for the both of you but unfortunately, you two weren’t on the same page.

was it your fault? keigo never spoke about having a child together but he always said he’d love to build a family with you someday – he loved you, he would always protect you and be there for you. sure, it was a slip up this time. you always made sure to take proper measures to avoid pregnancy from happening but you were also more than glad to bear this child and you were convinced that keigo would be happy about it as much as you were. he loved you so much, after all.

“i don’t think…” he stammered, trying to find the right words. “give me some time.”

your lips pursed into a thin line, hands clenching hard and knuckles turning white. think? the uncertainty in his voice was already giving you the obvious answer. he couldn’t even look you in the eyes. he never wanted this.

“save the trouble, keigo.” you spat. “how about i’ll just leave so you don’t even have to think at all?”

keigo finally lifted up his head to look at you with wavering eyes, but he still couldn’t find the words to say, to comfort you. “what are you saying?”

“i’m still going to have this child. even if it means i have to do it alone.” with a sharp breath, you turned around towards the door.

you heard a frustrating sigh coming from your back, “you know i can’t. you know damn well that i have my job as a hero and i can’t look after… after a child!”

“but it’s your child keigo!” you turned around to scream and look at him again, tears already welling in your eyes, threatening to pour out.

“and what difference does that make?!” he yelled back. “in fact, that’s even worse!”

the room was quiet as the both of you just stood there. keigo slowly realizing what just came out of his mouth in the heat of the moment while you just stared at him in disbelief. both were standing stunned and speechless from what he clearly said. that was it, you thought.

“fuck you.” you cursed under your breath and immediately left his place, not even sparing a look back.

if he was sorry, he would chase after you. if he didn’t mean it, he would look everywhere for you.

but none of that happened.

you ended up going back to your hometown after that. it was shameful, to finally see your parents again but just to cry on their feet as soon as you saw their faces and telling them that you were carrying an illegitimate child. it was devastating for them initially but thankfully they easily accepted it, welcoming you to stay over at their place with open arms so they could help you throughout your pregnancy until the baby was born and grown. above all, you were still their daughter. living far away, your parents had never met keigo and they were shocked to know that you were having the no.2 pro hero’s baby but also disappointed at how he reacted when you told him the news.

however, what was done is done and you can only manage to move forward by raising the child with your utmost capability. you promised yourself that you’ll protect and raise this child with as much love and care a mother can offer. whatever it takes, even if you’ll have to do it by yourself.

you ended up living with your parents until your son turned four and decided to live independently, not wanting to burden them any longer. they didn’t want to let you go, the presence of the child brought so much joy in their daily lives. he was a bundle of sunshine and they loved him so much.

and kyō is just beautiful.

keigo’s genes manage to overpower your son compared to yours. fluffy but shorter blonde hair, dark and sharp on the inner corner of the eyes and not to forget the red wings on his back. it isn’t as big as keigo’s yet but it still stands out. although he takes on your personality more, every part of him reminds you of keigo and sometimes it feels like a jab to your chest. it hurts to be reminded of the man that hurt you and told you to get rid of the child you were bearing so ruthlessly.

throughout the years, you tried to make peace with the past. at first, it was hard to look at the news and see his face. he was almost everywhere, a lot of stores also sold his merchandise and his face even covered the magazines-- you realized you couldn’t escape him, your past. although he’s in the limelight, the media was still unaware about his private life and you were glad alas the similar features of kyō to the pro hero made some passersby and mothers at the park question you. fortunately, you already came up with a bullshit excuse like “he is such a big fan of hawks and he cosplays him every day… and oh, the wings are fake too.”

of course, strangers weren’t the only ones who inquired about it. even the little child himself could smartly notice his resemblance with the pro hero.

as soon as he first saw hawks on tv, he went on and on about how they looked so much alike. he was beyond fascinated, he could barely understand what the news was talking about at the time but being on the screen was more than enough to make him understand that hawks was an amazing guy. his eyes would twinkle in wonder when the news caught footage of him flying in the air with his red wings spreading graciously. if anything at all, kyō just couldn’t wait to flap his own smaller wings soon.

then one thing led to another. a question that any curious child would ask their parents about.

oftentimes kyō would ask you about his dad. why didn’t he have one like the other children he played with at the park and oftentimes you would try to avoid the topic and shrugged it off with a lame joke saying how you were also his dad and how you were powerful to have two bodies in one unlike other people.

he ended up growing tired of it one day, crying to you and asked if the reason why he didn’t have one was because he didn’t love him – something he heard one of the kids said. it broke you and you were lost for words. you called your parents for support and after much discussion, your mother thought he deserved to at least know the truth and you did just that.

luckily, he took it surprisingly well. even his little brain can comprehend the job of a top hero, he understood that it was a lot of work and keigo was often busy and far away. it was less to his liking when you made him promise you to not tell anyone about it and he should keep it as a secret because bad guys would chase after him if another single soul would know and his dad did it to protect him. it was a bad lie, but still, you had to do it.

later, kyō realized that his birthday was coming soon. he knew what he had always wanted. he didn’t know if he could have it but maybe… maybe if he tried and wished hard enough, it would come true.

he sneakily took your phone to look up “hawks'' on your phone, though at first he was only shown results and pictures of the literal bird before smartly adding “pro hero” at the back. with limited comprehension, he eventually managed to find the agency’s website before scrolling further to find the address to the agency and scribbled it down on a piece of paper.

“daddy?!” the bell has been ringing for a few times but you were too concentrated on decorating the birthday cake to even hear it but your son’s small wings flutter in excitement as he runs across the hallway to open the door.

your heart stops for a second. was that the reason why your son was pacing around the living room? you’re not expecting any guests for tonight’s dinner at all, especially the father of your child.

“hey! i got your letter!” the familiar excited tone of his voice bursts from the door as he speaks. he kneels down eye-level as his son and gives him a big hug. “happy birthday.”

“what letter?” you break into the conversation, arms folded in front of your chest as you lean against the wall with an unamused expression written across your face.

“i wrote daddy a letter!” your son says proudly, but you can already imagine the horrible squiggly lines on the handwritten letter.

“and you gave me a picture too. you look exactly like me, am so happy!” keigo chuckles, ruffling the hair of his boy, eliciting little giggles from the other. it’s a beautiful sight and it makes your heart ache a little at the image of what it could’ve been. if only he was fully ready to accept the fact that he was gonna bear a child. if only he knew how to balance between his career and personal life. you could’ve had the most beautiful family you’ve ever dreamed of.

“honey, can you go to your room for a bit? your daddy and i have to talk.” you say softly, hoping that he won’t take it any other way.

“am i.. in trouble?” kyō turns to you with a frown and puppy eyes – which he knows well that it would always work on you and it’s almost adorable how it’s exactly what keigo would do whenever he makes you annoyed with his antics. it’s just one of his ways to apologize to you.

you sigh and shake your head, “no. we’re gonna talk about…” you glance elsewhere as you think of an excuse. “your surprise present!”

“it’s not a surprise anymore if you say it like that, mommy!” the child laughs and scurries to his room as told and the both of you watch him with a smile tugged on your lips.

you turn back to keigo with a dour expression as soon as your son closes the door to his room, causing him to fidget a bit from his spot. he hasn’t seen it for years, after all. he’s about to pull you into a hug but instead, you quickly turn your heels around towards the kitchen.

“i still have things to do. either you help me with it or leave.”

he quickly takes off his shoes and follows you, taking in the view around the house before he enters the kitchen. the atmosphere is stuffy and tense while you sit on the stool to continue decorating the cake.

“you can help by setting up the plates. top cabinet.” you break the awkward silence and keigo obliges, he reaches the cabinet to take out the available plates and put them nicely around the table.

“you made it yourself?” he tries to make a conversation as he glances at you working on the cake.

“yeah.” you simply reply without taking your eyes off from your work.

“it’s nice. chocolate?”

“obviously.”

keigo sighs from the underwhelming response, “i know you don’t want me here but –”

“no shit.” you almost slam the table but quickly recompose yourself by taking a deep breath. for the sake of your son, you know you shouldn’t get into an argument right now, at least not today.

“look, i’ll leave as soon as this is over if that’s what you want.”

you glare at him, “it’s more than what i want right now,” then it’s your turn to sigh. “but i doubt that’s what kyō would want.”

keigo already knows his name from the letter but his lips etch into a warm smile at the sound of the name you’ve given to the-- his child and a small part of him wishes that he was there in the process of choosing a name for the boy together with you.

“okay, just for tonight. we’ll pretend like we’re a happy family.” you stand up from the stool after putting the last candle and set the cake in the middle of the table.

“...and what if we don’t have to?” he blurts out after a brief and quiet moment, immediately catching your attention. he notices the puzzled look on your face and continues, “what if we really start being a happy family from now and onwards?”

you blink once, twice. for a second, you feel a heavy pang in your chest as your brain processes the words that just came out from his mouth. it’s like déjà vu, only this time keigo has certainty in his voice.

the room falls dead silent again as you stare at each other. you’re finding words and about to open your mouth to say something but kyō suddenly interrupts from the corner of the kitchen and both of your attentions quickly turn to him.

“mommy..? i’m hungry.”

“oh, sweetheart. you’re just in time!” you walk up to kyō to carry him in your arms before bringing him to the dining table. his eyes sparkle at the variety of food spread across the table and his wings flutter in excitement.

“can you help light up the candles? the lighter is in the drawer.” you usher to keigo as you show your son his favorite food you made earlier while keigo quickly rummages through the drawer. he lights up each candle as you put down kyō on one of the chairs before he stands on his knees to reach close enough to blow the candles. the both of you excitedly sing happy birthday and clap your hands as he blows off the candles after a brief moment for a wish.

“what did you wish for?” keigo asks, affectionately patting kyō on the head.

“i wish to be a hero like daddy!” he exclaims, arms and wings spread in enthusiasm. a bittersweet feeling engulfs him-- a part of him is disappointed and ashamed of himself while another part of him is elated and relieved that he’s still looked up upon by his own child. in the corner of his heart, keigo thinks he doesn’t deserve it. kyō is a splitting image of himself (minus the color of his eyes that he takes after you) and it easily brings back visions of him from the past. he wanted to be a hero too, but his father wasn’t someone he could look up to. hence, making endeavor the only man he idolized.

he realizes he is lucky enough to be the person his son looks up to. he knows that this was what his own younger self would want. a father he can be proud of, a hero at that. keigo wants to make it right with whatever it’ll take.

the night proceeds smoothly, all three of you have fun together like any normal family would and bonding over lost times. keigo is thoughtful (though his choice seems a little bit conceited) enough to give kyō a present; an action figure of himself. unknowingly, the walls that you built around you by the time keigo arrived earlier slowly crumbles and you grow less wary around him as time ticks by. when it’s bedtime for the boy, keigo insists on putting him to bed so he can spend more time with him which you gladly consented to so you can also continue cleaning up the kitchen.

a set of footsteps coming down the stairs can be heard as you’re seated on one of the stools while sipping tea.

“want some tea?” you offer without turning around to look at the male.

“sure.” he says as he walks up to you.

you can feel his tall and lean build ghosting you from the back as you pour a cup for him but his hands suddenly reach your shoulders and give them light squeezes.

“what are you doing?” you ask quizzically, glancing at the hand on your shoulder.

“giving you a massage.” he smiles innocently as he continues pressing on the knot in your stiff shoulders, making you sigh in reflex.

“trying to get on my good side?” you say in a mocking tone.

“hmm, just showing my appreciation to you.” his hands move lower to your spine, your back arches a little as he presses down your aching muscles.

“you’re five years too late, keigo.” you sneer but welcome his service as you close your eyes and hum in content. it’s not that bad, you assure yourself in your head.

keigo diligently continues to massage your back as the kitchen now fills with your quiet sighs and whimpers whenever he rubs on the sore spot. without you realizing, he slyly pulls the collar of your baggy shirt down and plants soft kisses on your bare shoulder.

“k-keigo?” you immediately open your eyes and flinch at the sudden touch.

he remains quiet while his hands work up and down your arms gently and his lips move further up to your earlobe, sending tingling sensations down to your core and you can already feel your nipples harden underneath your shirt.

“relax.” his hot breath fans over your ear as he whispers. your cheeks are already burning red and you’re out of sarcastic remarks as you can only find yourself to indulge into his touches.

you gasp in surprise when keigo’s hands sneakily move under your shirt and quickly unsnaps your bra. he massages your breasts and kneads them gently before teasing your erect nipple between his fingers. your hands firmly clenches the edge of the island to hold yourself as he nips on the crook of your neck, just gently to carefully not leave a mark.

“you want more, babybird?” he coos as he realizes that your thighs are pressing against each other. as much as you hate to admit it, the nostalgic pet name tugs on your heartstrings and you find yourself melting after hearing it after years again.

feeling embarrassed, you quietly nod your head.

“i can’t hear you.” a teasing tone lingers in his voice. he knows what he’s doing and you hate him for it.

“more, keigo...” you whine. it sounds so innocent and adorable but it absolutely makes his cock twitch. noticing that you’ve been avoiding looking at him the whole time, he uses one of his hands to make you look at him and grins when he catches the red tint spread across your face before he presses his lips onto yours.

the traces of your ego make you hesitate at first but you’re quick to lose it as he deepens it, as if to send you a silent message of how much he misses you while his tongue intertwines with yours.

one of his hands remains to massage your mound while the other travels down south to easily part your legs and cups your heated sex. keigo rubs the clit against the fabric of your pants, eliciting breathy moans from your lips between kisses. you pull away and lean back to his body as he slides his hand under your pants, feeling the wet patch that is already staining your underwear.

“already wet from all of that?” he says playfully, taking out his hand to look at the damp juices as he rubs it between his fingers.

“says the man that was grinding his cock on my back.” you roll your eyes halfheartedly, missing the faint blush that becomes apparent on his cheeks.

keigo then reaches for the cups in front of you and pushes them aside before lifting you up on the kitchen island, making you turn towards him. he swiftly pulls down your pants along with your underwear, your cunt bare and glistening under the lights for him to see.

his golden irises lock with yours as he kicks the stool to the side and crouches down to spread your thighs apart. he starts to lap off your juices, tongue alternating between your throbbing clit and hole. your elbows help to prop you up as your head hangs back and your eyes close in pure bliss.

keigo smacks and clenches your thighs to draw your attention to him, “baby, look at me.”

you submissively lift your head to look at him, eyes locking with each other again as he watches you squirm on the tongue flicking your clit and eats you out like a starved man having his first meal after a long day.

you grab a lock of his blonde hair in one hand, pushing him closer as your legs tremble around his head, feeling the bubbling sensation of your orgasm building up.

“mmh – gonna cum!” you cry out in ecstasy, instantly forgetting the people next door and your son that’s sound asleep on the upper floor as you chase after your high.

keigo smoothly slides two fingers inside your pussy and your hips begin to grind desperately onto them. he knows you’re close when he feels the walls clenching around him and with another suck on the clit, he quickly gets to tip you over the edge.

“so good for me.” he coos as he pulls away, licking his fingers clean before carrying your panting body in his arms and walks over to sprawl your body on the couch. he hovers on top of you and kisses you again while his hands work on unzipping and taking off his lower garments to free his throbbing cock.

he smears the precum by pumping his cock as he watches you down, adoring the look of absolute bliss on your face and half lidded eyes that he longed for over the years.

“my songbird,” he purrs as he leans down to you and lines his cock with your wet cunt, “you’re so beautiful.”

if you’re already red, the endearing pet name makes you even redder. your gaze avoids his to hide your embarrassment but he only draws it back gently by your chin with his thumb and finger.

“don’t you miss me?” his brows furrowed as he searches your face. you can only stare back into his eyes – bright irises filled with nothing but genuine curiosity and desolation.

your lips pull into a thin line as you ponder for a moment, promptly unable to vocalize like earlier. it’s as if you let even one word escape your mouth, it would make you burst into tears instead. of course you missed him. your mind often wondered if he even thought of you at least once. even when you did make peace with the past, you still couldn’t bring yourself to be the one to make the first step. ego is an ugly thing and you were certain that keigo should be the one to look for you even if it was hard for him since you just disappeared out of his life.

noticing the reluctance to give him an answer, he shushes you. “it’s okay.” he kisses you sweetly on your nose. “but let me show how much i’ve missed you.”

he trails open mouthed kisses down your jaw, neck and collarbone as your hands run through his hair and down to his back. a soft whine manages to escape from your mouth when he nibbles on the soft flesh of your neck, instantly marking it red this time.

his mouth then latches onto your nipple through your shirt, making you squirm beneath him. your hands clenches to the fabric of his shirt when you feel his fingers teasingly dancing between your wet folds and his thumb ghosting over your clit.

keigo gives you a kiss on the lips again before pulling away, the cushion dips as he props himself on the knees, rubbing his hard cock against your wet slits and smearing it with your juices.

a low hiss slips from his lips as he slowly prods in the tip of his cock and your expression twists into discomfort as you feel him stretch you out more – a familiar mixture of pain and pleasure that you haven’t felt for a while.

keigo waits for you to adjust and as soon as you give him the greenlight, he continues to completely balls deep inside you.

“babybird, you feel so good.” he grunts as he bucks his hips and slowly starts to move.

you bite your lower lip hard, enough to draw blood as you try to stifle your moans. keigo leans down to kiss you while your arms find themselves wrapping around his neck. he thrusts harder and faster and your whimpers and whines finally find themselves shamelessly slipping past from your mouth.

“fucking– hah– perfect.” he pants as he pulls away to look at your flustered face, eyes half closed and mouth agape with pleasure.

you quickly bury your face on the crook of his neck and hold onto him tighter while your legs wrap securely around his waist. keigo moves his thumb on your clit, pressing down and rubbing circles all to entice nothing but tightening the coil down in your core more.

“keigo, keigo –” you cry as your nails dig the fabric on his back and your toes curl to the intense sensation.

“baby wants to cum?” he growls as he feels your walls clamping around his cock, making him buck his hips even wilder.

“yesyesyes – oh god, keigo!” your mind turns putty and unable to form any more coherent words, making only his name being the only thing you remember as your eyes close shut while you’re nearing your high.

“that’s it – baby. cum on my cock.” he encourages and you do just that. your pussy flutters as you finally reach your orgasm but his sporadic thrusts doesn’t stop until it starts to falter and his wings tremble.

“fuck. i’m gonna fill you up.” he grits through his teeth and his cock twitches before his wings spread wider as he releases his warm cum inside you.

the both of your bodies stay against each other, chests heaving for air before he briefly pulls out his cock and lays on top of your chest.

“yes.” your voice suddenly croaks, breaking the almost silent air in the room if not for the sound of yours and his breathing.

keigo lifts up his head to look at you confusingly before a lopsided smile curls on his lips when he hears you utter the next few words.

“yes. i missed you and i don’t want to pretend anymore.” you suddenly feel overwhelmed and tears start to well in your eyes. a flash of panic crosses his face and he pulls you closer into his embrace, hoping to calm you down as you sniffle on his chest.

“shh, baby. i’m sorry. i know it’s too late and i was so fucking stupid but i’ll – ”

“i want to live as a happy family with you, keigo.” you cut him off, sobbing through his shirt. he pulls away at once to look at you, unable to believe what he just heard through the choking sob but it still makes even him want to cry.

“babybird, i – ” he’s completely tongue-tied. at this point he can only manage to lean down to be close to you again. he peppers kisses all over your face, saying how thankful and happy he is.

“i love you, my little bird. i won’t fuck up this time, i promise.” he whispers, finally regaining his composure.

that night, keigo could barely sleep a wink. so many thoughts are running through his head. he glances at you sleeping peacefully next to him on the bed and he already pictures how it is to be waking up to see your face every morning. he also hopes that kyō doesn’t know how to fly yet so he could teach him how to use his wings. oh, he’ll also get to find an excuse to buy more buckets of chickens once you three will start living together.

he can already imagine how the headlines will be bombarded about him having a family and he sighs at the thought, but he hopes that his publicist is ready for a hell lot of work.

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chordata-on-alterhumanity · 3 years

Text

The Chordata Guide to Otherlinking

Hello! This is a guide written from my own experiences, and a tiny bit of consulting with other ‘linkers. If you can think of ways to improve this, let me know, and I’ll update the original post. This is Version 1.1.

What is otherlinking? What is a linktype?

Otherlinking is the active choice of identifying as something. This sounds very vague, so let’s have an example: Imagining yourself as a lion makes you more confident, so you like doing that frequently. Identifying as a lion becomes a part of your identity.

For many of us, otherlinking includes consciously taking on traits of out linktype (imitating/“fake it ‘til you make it” OR strengthening already existing traits by focusing on them through a linktype). This is a form of mindfulness training. For example: I would like to be as calm and collected as insert-fictional-character. In stressful situations, I think “How would they react?” and try to act that way by imagining myself as them. If this revolves around already existing traits, a linktype can help amplify those traits.

Let's get some vocabulary out of the way first, for everyone who comes across this and isn’t familiar with otherlinking.

● Linktype / Otherlink / 'link- A voluntary identity a person takes on. I.e. I identify as a woodpecker because I want to. This identity can be of a real existing or extinct animal or plant, a mythological being, a fictional being or person, an object, a concept, et cetera.

● Otherlinker - A person with a linktype.

● Otherlinking - The act of having a linktype.

● Copinglink / C'link - A subcategory of linktype. A copinglink is a linktype created for coping with trauma, stress, et cetera.

● Copinglinker - A person with a copinglink.

● Copinglinking - The act of having a copinglink.

Requirements

You might ask yourself: "I want a linktype. What're the requirements to get one?" Well, you already got all the requirements down. To take on a linktype, you need to want one. Whether you feel compelled to take one on, or you feel it could help you in some way, or you decide you want to try this just for the heck of it, it's all valid. You want, you can.

How?

This is the trickier part, and it varies from person to person. I will give a basic rundown. Adjust this for your personal needs where you see fit.

1. Find your being/thing/concept.

2. Examine your reasons for why you want to call this yourself.

3.a. Your reasons for wanting the linktype might already be enough to make the identity feel right.

3.b. If you don't feel yourself clicking with the potential 'link, and struggle with identifying as it, analyze it to find the traits that don't resonate with you. You can change parts of the 'link, or view it through a different lens to make it feel closer to home. I.e. For fictional characters, it can help to disengage from fandom interpretation, or canon characterization, and instead put your own spin on them.

4. Once you've established a connection, you can reinforce it if you want to. A linktype can feel very faint at the start, so here are some examples for what you can do to make it feel more 'You':

● Wear clothing you can associate with the 'link.

● Inform yourself about new hobbies that you can associate with your linktype. I.e. If your linktype is an archer and you've never tried archery before, see if you can find an archery range open to newbies nearby.

● If you are a visual artist, create drawings of your linktype in a way that relates to your irl person. I.e. Draw the linktype in your clothes, or in irl places you've been in person.

● If you're a writer, write something including your linktype in a way that relates to you. I.e. Include them in a story inspired by real life events that have happened to you.

● Make the linktype your social media profile picture.

● Let people know they can use the linktype's name as a nickname for you.

● Change your social media alias/username to be related to the linktype’s name.

● Talk to people who will treat you as your linktype (and not just view it as roleplaying).

Don't be ashamed of expressing yourself in fear of other people’s opinions. Unless you're dependent on them (for money, safety, or other physical and mental health needs), it doesn't matter what they think.

Caution

If at any point in your journey you notice that a linktype makes you feel worse about yourself than you do without the linktype (i.e. feeding into anger, self-hatred), stop it. These dangers can already crop up during the ‘link creation process. Here are ways to go about this, and possible causes:

● Stop engaging with it. This sounds very 'It'll go away if I ignore it long enough', but that's exactly it. A linktype should fade when you don't engage with it anymore. Don't approach this by thinking "I'm not allowed to think about this anymore", but instead, every time when your linktype comes up, acknowledge it, and replace that thought with something else. If you struggle with this, examine what 'triggers' you to think of your linktype. Mindfulness is a powerful thing that often goes underestimated.

● Replace it with a different linktype that doesn't bring these problems.

● If your linktype started off without these issues, try to find out what caused it to change to become negative. Maybe there are other factors in your life that're putting stress on you and it shows through your linktype.

● Maybe you’ve outgrown your linktype. People can change over time, and your linktype could be preventing you from taking the next steps for personal growth, and this can negatively influence your well-being. Try letting go of the linktype. It might turn out the be a freeing experience.

● Talk to a therapist (, or, if you can’t access therapy, an understanding friend). Yes, tell them specifically about the linktype and the problems you have with it. A second person can shine a light on aspects you didn’t notice.

Good to know

A linktype can become an integral part to yourself, and at some point you might find it hard to separate it from yourself. Is this still a linktype? Is it a kintype (otherkin)? That is for you to know and decide. The lines can be blurry, and at the end of the day you are the only person who can decide what labels you want to use and what community has the most in common with you (if you even want to label yourself and interact with ppl w similar experiences). Unless it is harming you (or others), a linktype turned integral is nothing bad. Our environments shape us as people constantly, and a linktype over time can contribute similarly.

🐟

That’s it! If you have questions or need help, feel free to contact me through Asks or DMs. If I’m unavailable, search around a bit to find other otherlinkers who might be able to help you. ♡

#otherlink #copinglink #linktype #voluntary identity #otherlinking #copinglinking #otherlinker #copinglinker #c'link #quoiluntary #alterhuman #fictionlinker #fictionlink #otherlink guide #own post

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palestinianliberator · 3 years

Text

To be Palestinian is exhausting

You will not find a single Palestinian who hasn’t had to endure all of the following and more:

Constantly having to prove our existence

[This is going to be a tremendously long post, but I implore you to read through what you can]

Constantly having to educate everyone around us on our history and people while we continue to be slaughtered

Constantly having to combat Israeli propaganda and dehumanization campaigns against us

Constantly having to combat liberal propaganda from those who simply cannot understand the pain and damage they are doing

Constantly having to defend ourselves from the overwhelming forces that stand in our way, from the Israeli forces to the global institutions that help support it to the structures in the US that mean that any Palestinian who dares speak out risk both their lives and livelihood

Constantly in fear of whether or not you’ll end up on another “list” as a result of daring to speak out

Constantly having to do it all again as soon as we’re back on the news

Constantly having to answer for all other Palestinians in a way that nobody else is expected to

Constantly being seen as the “crazy one” when trying to share your narrative, having to defend against an endless barrage of accusations of antisemitism

Constantly being put into situations by bad-faith actors who attempt to engage in “debate” or “discussion” or “dialogue” with talking points that demean and duhamanize you, all while being expected to maintain a smile and cool composure while someone literally debates to your face your own existence or how “actually it’s YOUR people’s fault you’re being slaughtered! Israel isn’t the bad guy here!”

Constantly being forced to choose between engaging in bad-faith debates framed in a way to make you look like the unreasonable bad guy while the person implicitly defending your ethnic cleansing is made to look like the “rational good guy” or looking after your own mental health, knowing that even refusing these “invitations” is itself a mark against you and your people

Constantly being told that you’re too “biased”, too “close”, too “emotional” about the literal slaughter of your people to be seen as a valid source, while Israelis and complete outsiders are given all the space they want to speak for us endlessly

Constantly seeing people being actively mislead and wondering if you have the capacity to reach out to them and attempt to share your narrative with them, knowing that if you don’t, they’re going to go on to propagate the same lies justifying your ethnic cleansing

Constantly having to combat GENUINE censorship throughout the media, social media, and society itself. It’s a fact proven by former Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and Youtube employees that Palestinian voices have their reach censored in a way no one else does, which is why it’s so important to amplify and actively share Palestinian voices rather than just liking or indicating support

Constantly being told you don’t know your own history by people who’ve educated themselves on Youtube and Wikipedia despite having lived the reality yourself and dedicating your entire life to studying every single aspect of it

Constantly seeing those who have the courage to stand alongside you being shut down with accusations of antisemitism and seeing them lose their courage to stand by you out of fear of their own image and livelihood and having to rush to their defense as well

Constantly having to see photos of your people, sometimes even people you know, maimed, injured, murdered, or burned to ash by Israeli aggression but knowing you have a duty to share what’s happening and must stomach the images to show the world the true extent of the suffering we endure

Constantly having to worry not just for your own safety, but the safety of your family and loved ones who can be punished or targeted because of things you yourself say

Constantly wondering who you can actually trust, from new friends and acquaintances to professors to even other Palestinians because we’ve been so heavily infiltrated by Israeli intelligence looking to blackmail Palestinians using anything from their sexual orientation or even made up “evidence” meant to ruin their lives

Constantly having your heart sink every notification you get wondering if it’s news that a loved one has been killed

Constantly seeing the corpses of loved ones shared on social media and reliving the trauma all over again, yet again knowing that you WANT the world to see what’s happening

Constantly seeing the effects this has on your own family and feeling helpless to do anything

Constantly on alert for the FBI at your door as they often “visit” Palestinians who dare speak out, myself included on numerous occasions

Constantly wondering if your advocacy for your people is going to result in the loss of your job, scholarship, license

Constantly being asked to “humanize” and “feel for” those who live their lives day in day out completely unfazed by your suffering despite living in a society that couldn’t even FUNCTION without our subjugation

Constantly being told “don’t blame regular Israelis, blame the government!!” as if the state itself wasn’t founded on our ethnic cleansing, as if it isn’t “normal Israelis” who make up the entirety of the Israeli Military and have actively brutalized you and your people

Seeing allies you fought for suddenly SILENT when it’s their time to speak up

Studying on a US campus where those SAME SOLDIERS WHO ENGAGED IN YOUR PERSECUTION AND ACTIVELY SERVED AS THE ENFORCERS OF YOUR OCCUPATION then re-enact the trauma against you and you’re meant to simply ignore the fact that THEY ARE THE SAME PEOPLE WHO MURDERED YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY, and not being allowed to even be ANGRY at that

Trying to navigate this half-life in the diaspora where it’s a struggle to connect with other Palestinians given the distance between us and yet not being able to connect with anyone around because, again, they simply can’t understand

Constantly being expected to simply give up your time to those who demand you answer them and debate your existence and narrative with them, who them take you blocking them for your own mental health as a “victory” to be lorded over you when you simply can’t take it anymore

Constantly having to EXPLAIN all of this because nobody but other Palestinians can truly understand just how pervasive, overwhelming, and incapacitating this unique form of exhaustion is

Constantly seeing your erasure and ethnic cleansing defended all over the media, all over social media, throughout your academic career, while those ENGAGED in your ethnic cleansing have the audacity to claim that the media is biased against THEM

Constantly on guard with everything you say and write, knowing that unlike those promoting our ethnic cleansing, we don’t have the luxury of making mistakes or getting lazy in our writing and advocacy. One mistaken source, mistaken information, being imperfect is enough to discredit your voice entirely

The crippling obligation you have to share the narrative of your people, knowing that so many people will view you as the spokesperson of your entire people, knowing how unfair it is, but also knowing that if you DON’T speak out, nobody will on your behalf, and even the most well-intentioned, involved allies can simply never understand how it all truly feels

Seeing the entire world stand by and do absolutely nothing while your people are slaughtered time and time again

Seeing your history misconstrued by people implicitly defending your ethnic cleansing and settler-colonialism

Knowing that our parents have been through this and more, seeing them have to go through this yet again while still being forced to go about their daily lives and given no time to mourn or recover

Not being able to even share our culture without being attacked for it

Knowing that so many of your friends and family won’t ever be able to return to their homeland while foreigners from around the globe are flown into Israel free because it’s their “birthright”

A “birthright” denied to even my own parents, born in Jerusalem yet unable to enter it

Having even self-proclaimed “allies” question Palestinian resistance, policing our tone, never /really/ understanding our pain and anger and how they themselves contribute to it

Screaming from the moment you can about what’s happening to us, desperately trying to get people to CARE, and having it often fall on deaf ears

Knowing that if you’re not the source of information for those genuinely seeking to learn, they may find themselves mislead by sources that claim to be fair and balanced while imprinting subtle lies about Palestine and Palestinians on those they engage with

Not even being able to find the energy and ability to respond to genuine messages of love and support, which are greatly appreciated, and feeling bad about it because you don’t want to seem like you’re not genuinely happy to hear it

Feeling a sense of overwhelming exhaustion in times like this while at the same time being unable to sleep

Seeing the effect all of this has had on your people, knowing your people have among the highest rates of depression on the planet and yet we’re all suffering together with no way to ease the pain

Being constantly exposed to the ways in which your people are erased and questioning if you have the energy or sanity left to deconstruct such aggression to help outsiders understand the severity of it all

Seeing allies suddenly call for “peace” when Palestinians are finally fed up enough to rise up and fight back against an overwhelming military force

I could go on, but in case you it’s not already clear, I’m tired and exhausted

Always wondering if any of this is even worth it when the world has ignored your slaughter and ethnic cleansing for nearly 8 decades, knowing that nobody is about to step in to help now.

Constantly wondering if any of this is even worth it, and then feeling inspired by fellow Palestinians, our resilience, the fact that despite ALL of this and more, we continue to fight.

Despite all of this, I would never even consider or entertain the thought of being born as anything other than Palestinian

#Palestine #Israel #Gaza #I could go on for literal hours or days #There is SO much to our pain and suffering #SO much #But I know that even trying to explain EVERY aspect of it is #itself likely to lead to a diminished audience and serve to perpetuate the very things I mentioned

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writingwithcolor · 3 years

Note

In the story I’m writing there is a Northern African/Egyptian mixed women (still working on the kinks since it’s still a draft) and a 28y African American women who eventually fall in love. The American women is basically joining a hidden land of fey and the mixed one is actually 20k y old. It’s also later revealed that the American women is the reincarnation of the one the Mixed fell in love with 20k y ago but died 2k y ago and then mixed was forced to kill her on every 20th birthday as a curse(given by the villains) forcing her to reincarnate for years not remembering. During the time the story takes place it doesn’t happen thanks to the new queen fey who lifted the curse 15 y ago, allowing them to finally be happy. They slowly fall in love again, with the mixed being hesitant and finally admitting the truth. However, the American women chooses to remember the past but not her deaths so she can remember only the good of her. I know it’s horrible to have lgbt+ and POC deaths but I thought since it ends up happy and wholesome it might still be good......???? But I’m still hesitant and I really want to make this right.

Black lgbt woman murdered repeatedly by lover as part of curse, but with a “happy ending”

I am not a fan of a Black (and “lgbt”) woman character being murdered, over and over again. It may very well read like grotesque and needless suffering. Black stories in media are full of trauma narratives and this seems like yet another one, proving that even in fantasy, we aren’t allowed to fully enjoy escapism and must stay grounded in death, pain and suffering.

This goes beyond just a physical suffering; I could only imagine there’s a real psychological burden, knowing your lover has deprived you of life and murdered you for countless years (curse or no).

Not to mention, regarding the mixed African Egyptian woman:

there has to be an extreme level of trauma and guilt upon realizing you’ve murdered this person endlessly too.

There’s also an association with violence being placed on the Egyptian character. Such topics deserve exploration in the novel.

On both accounts, from a representation standpoint, it ain’t great. Do you have other African American and Egyptian characters with less tragic storylines?

I predict it will be difficult for readers to leave the story with the impression of it all being happy and wholesome, as you say it is in the end. The Black American woman choosing not to remember the “bad parts” (to put it lightly) allows the narrative to ignore the issue and avoid unpacking that trauma., However, it doesn’t let you off the hook, as the author, who chose to write this. We, the readers, remember.

Takeaways

You should really ask yourself “why?” Is there a point to creating a curse of this nature beyond an easy means for sensational shock value? Perhaps if I knew your motivations, this idea wouldn’t seem as alarming.

In what other ways could you give them a tumultuous past without resulting in the Black (lgbt) woman being subjected to death in every one of them?

Are you willing to respectfully explore the extreme trauma, suffering and implications that comes from the results of such a curse?

I suggest you alter the nature of this curse while keeping the dramatic stakes high. Explore a different means for the curse that keeps these lovers from being happy until now. One that doesn’t automatically equate the Black woman’s life as worthless, ending in murder at her lover’s hands.

~Mod Colette

I have Thoughts. Let us approach this clinically. I think it’s worth thinking about why you, the author, thought this curse from the villains was a good idea.

Firstly, the perspective matters. Whose perspective is this story from and how will this curse affect their character development (both in the past and present)? That in itself will give some indication as to the utility of the curse for the story.

Secondly, from a narrative perspective, what is compelling about being cursed to be killed by (or cursed to kill) a loved one over and over as a dramatic device? This isn’t rhetorical. I’m curious what particularly about this idea appeals to you; what you are trying to convey to your audience because I have no sense of your thinking based on this ask.

As a reader, even if both characters were white, I wouldn’t read this story because this feels like emotional manipulation via tragedy exploitation. That sounds either boring or unpleasant. I think if you can successfully parse what exactly you are trying to express, better options that don’t rely on BIPOC pain may emerge.

There is the separate issue of making a Black, queer character a repeated victim of violence at the hands of a trusted person (I mean, at a minimum this is both misogynoir and “Bury your gays” to quite the extreme, even with the reincarnation component), but shame and call-outs are rarely effective teachers. You are clearly aware this is a poor narrative choice and I’d rather you focus your energies determining what so attracted you to this concept and how to elicit the emotional reaction you are seeking without relying on cheap theatrics.

PSA to all of our users: motivation matters

This lack of clarity w/r to intent has been a general issue with many recent questions. please remember that if you don’t explain your motivations and what you intend to communicate to your audience with your plot choices, character attributes, world-building etc., we cannot effectively advise you beyond the information you provide. We Are Not Mind Readers. If, when drafting these questions, you realize you can’t explain your motivations, that is likely a hint that you need to think more on the rationales for your narrative decisions. My recommendation is to read our archives and articles on similar topics for inspiration while you think. I will be attaching this PSA to all asks with similar issues until the volume of such questions declines.

- Marika.

#sora-the-mye #Black #African #lgbtqia #bury your gays #Black person dies first #death #murder #murder tw #romantic relationships #reincarnation #tragedy exploitation #representation #asks

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c-optimistic · 4 years

Note

for your happy prompts ask, perhaps kara is a documentary film maker who follows ceo lena around for a doc and ends up falling in love with her by learning a bunch of little things she finds out during filming? also p.s. i absolutely adore your writing even when it tugs at the heartstrings. thank you for writing what you do! it makes my day everytime i see an update or get an email

She wasn’t allowed to see Lena Luthor until she’d signed so many papers that, if stacked together, would be taller than she was. She wasn’t even allowed to touch her camera around Lena Luthor until the woman herself, CEO extraordinaire, had personally vetted Kara out.

“You know,” Kara said as casually as she could, finding herself nervously adjusting her glasses when Lena’s cold gaze fell on her, “I usually have a whole team with me when I do this.”

“And I agreed to this on the condition that only one nosy filmmaker follows me around, not a whole team.” Lena’s reply was like everything else Kara had learned about the CEO thus far: she was blunt, a little harsh, tone and eyes cold and emotionless. She gave nothing away, not in her walk, in her mannerisms, in the ridiculously healthy food she ate, in the way she spoke to her employees or board members. She was cool, detached, wickedly smart, and utterly composed. “And I must approve the final result,” she added, gesturing to the mountain of paperwork Kara signed.

(Kara sighed internally, a tiny part of her sure Lena was a robot.)

“But it’s everything, right?” Kara clarified. “A total look into your life, no holding back?”

“You may follow me around to your heart’s content,” Lena said, leaning back in her desk chair, studying Kara intently.

“May I ask, Ms. Luthor, what made you agree to this, when you’re usually so distrustful of the media?”

Lena gave Kara a smile that didn’t touch her eyes. “What made you ask to do this when you know I distrust the media?”

Lena hadn’t answered, so Kara knew she didn’t have to either, but she felt it was important to establish some kind of rapport with the woman she’d be following around for the next few weeks. “I’m of the opinion that things are rarely as simple as they seem from the outside, that’s all.”

“Well,” Lena said, looking pleasantly surprised and offering Kara a grin (a real one, one that touched her eyes and transformed her face), “perhaps that’s why I agreed to you doing this.”

“You’re one of Ms. Luthor’s closest friends, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Since before your daughter was born?”

“Yup.”

“So would you say you know her quite well?”

“Sure.”

“Do you plan on answering any of my questions with more than one word?”

“Nope.”

“Okay. So, in one word I suppose, how would you describe Ms. Luthor to a stranger?”

“Flawless.”

The rules of her arrangement with Lena were rather simple. For the next several weeks, Lena consented to having Kara around from the moment she woke up to the moment she went to sleep. In return, Kara was not allowed in certain meetings at L-Corp, was not allowed to bring her camera with her at all when Lena went down to R&D, and if Lena asked for her to stop filming at any point, Kara was bound to immediately do so and erase any footage she may have inadvertently captured.

For the first two days of the arrangement, it was actually rather boring. Lena was awake before the crack of dawn, she didn’t acknowledge Kara’s presence as she made coffee and toast (though she did push a cup and a plate towards Kara), and then spent the next fifteen or so hours in her office, sifting through papers, answering phone calls and responding to emails, and forgetting meals. It wasn’t until the third day that Lena’s routine changed slightly.

She received a phone call at breakfast, and whoever it was caused a bright red blush to bloom on her cheeks. Kara zoomed in slightly on Lena’s face as she answered the call. “Now’s not really a good time, Sam,” she began, falling silent at whatever this Sam was saying on the other end. Lena’s eyes flitted over towards Kara, but to her surprise, she didn’t ask for Kara to shut off the camera. “That sounds terrible,” she said, sounding truly apologetic, something about her countenance changing. She seemed softer, more open, calmer than Kara had seen her yet. “And Ruby was so excited too.” Lena fell silent once more, nodding almost as if unaware of it. “I agree with her,” Lena suddenly laughed, still nodding, “it’s not fair at all. But there’s no way I’m not going to visit. Do you want me to bring anything?” Lena laughed again, and Kara wondered if her camera was capturing the change she was witnessing with her own eyes. “As if I could forget Ruby’s chocolate.” A pause. “Give her all my love.” Another pause, a tiny smile on Lena’s lips. “All right, I will. Bye.” As she hung up, she looked over at Kara, as if daring her to comment, everything about her shuttering at once.

“Who was that?” Kara asked, not really expecting an answer. To her surprise, however, Lena’s eyes flitted to the camera and she let out a soft, resigned sigh.

“That was my CFO, Sam Arias,” she answered, her tone a complete 180 from what she was using on the phone. She studied Kara for a moment and must have read something on her face, because her shoulders deflated and she motioned towards her phone. “Sam is my best friend. Her daughter, Ruby, is my goddaughter. We were supposed to go to the animal shelter today.” Lena smiled softly, almost as if unaware of it. “She’s finally convinced Sam she’s responsible enough for a pet. It’s actually—” Lena stopped suddenly, her eyes shifting to the camera once more, any warmth that had managed to leak out dissipating at once. “In any case, she’s sick. So we’ll have to reschedule.” She waved her hand towards the camera. “Can you turn that off, please?”

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Kara said quickly, making a show of turning the Camcorder off and setting it aside. “Is something wrong?”

Lena shook her head, leaning against her kitchen counter as she eyed Kara with something like curiosity. “You know, I’ve seen all of your other work,” she said after a moment, frowning at Kara like she was a puzzle she couldn’t figure out.

(Had she? Seen all of Kara’s work? A part of Kara was curious as to how, after all, most of her stuff was tucked away in a closet back in Midvale, waiting to be opened up and viewed during Christmas, when Alex would laugh at the films she’d made in high school about how the boys’ sports teams were unfairly given more attention than the girls’. The others were projects for her degree and one or two failed attempts to get a real production company to take the risk on her.

In fact, if not for Cat Grant’s decision as ‘The Queen of All Media’ to get involved in filmmaking, funding a project from a no-name creator, Kara wasn’t even sure she’d have the film she was making now.)

“Oh,” she said inarticulately, not quite sure how to word what she was really thinking. How rich did you have to be to be able to bribe anyone into giving you anything?

Lena nodded carefully, her face a perfect mask. If not for the way her eyes followed Kara’s every movement, Kara would’ve even thought that Lena was bored. “You’re very fond of certain themes. Hope. Love. Endless optimism in the best of humanity.” She said it like it was a bad thing. And it was suddenly Kara’s turn to lean forward on the opposite end of the counter, feeling her head tilt to the side questioningly.

“Is that what you got from my films?” she asked, genuinely curious.

Lena seemed wary of the question, standing up straight and crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “Isn’t that what you intended?”

“You know,” Kara said slowly, “I don’t actually believe in all that creator’s intent nonsense. I think we search for parts of ourselves when we consume art. So if that’s what you got from my films, that says more about you than it does about me.”

If anything, this seemed to offend Lena. “So you’d deny having any sort of intent with your work? What about making something with meaning?”

Kara laughed, shaking her head. “That’s not what I mean, and besides, who says art has to mean anything?”

“Of course art means something,” Lena argued, narrowing her eyes at Kara. “What’s the point of doing it if it doesn’t mean anything?”

Kara shrugged easily, giving Lena a small smile. “I disagree. I think art says something. But meaning is up to the people who consume it.” She picked up her camera and pointed it at Lena without turning it on. “Doesn’t matter what I intended to say with my films, you got meaning from it. So I’d say there was a point in making it, don’t you think?”

Lena eyed her for a moment, apparently not liking that Kara wasn’t giving her an answer, wasn’t telling her what she was trying to say with her work. But then, after several long seconds, she relented, letting out a chuckle and shaking her head. “Well, fine,” she said, her smile touching her eyes. “As long as you don’t try to say anything silly like hope, love, or endless optimism in the best of humanity with this film.”

“I’m afraid I can’t change who you are, Ms. Luthor,” Kara said softly, turning her camera on and effectively cutting off any response Lena may have had.

(And when she looks at the footage weeks later, she’ll freeze that frame, breath catching at the look on Lena’s face: the softness of her eyes, the curve of her lips, and the pleasantly confused crinkle between her brows.)

“Do you spend a lot of time with your godmother?”

“Oh yeah, loads! She’s great.”

“What sort of things do you do with her?”

“I mean, normal stuff? She takes me to get ice cream all the time. The other day, she rented that new horror movie that came out and watched it with me when I stayed over. My mom went nuts when she found out.”

“So you like her?”

“No, of course not. I love Lena. She’s my aunt, you know? She’s family.”

“And if you had the chance, what would you want the world to know about her?”

“That she cares, so much. And that she’s funny and super smart and helps me with homework and after my mom she’s the very best person I know.”

The visit to Luthor Children’s Hospital was, as far as Kara was aware, unplanned and in fact gave Jess a great deal of anxiety. For her part, Kara was mostly frustrated and annoyed, wondering if this film was worth it at all. Because Lena Luthor seemed to be asking Kara to turn off the camera more and more, especially when her day deviated at all and she was forced to leave her office.

(Walks in the park, lunches with her goddaughter, a touching moment with the child of one of her employees...all locked away somewhere in Kara’s memory, but destined to remain there instead of on film, where it should be.)

She huffed a little bit as she leaned against the wall, watching Lena walk quickly towards the group of nurses and doctors. She didn’t say anything when Jess joined her, a contemplative look on her face. “She always does this,” Jess told Kara after a long silence, rolling her eyes fondly. “She’ll cancel meetings last minute because she heard one of the kids in the hemoc ward has finished treatment or that they’re out of toys to give to the new patients.”

“Why isn’t there any press if she does this often?” Kara asked, turning to Jess but watching Lena out of the corner of her eye. She was talking to one of the doctors now, looking comically out of place with her designer clothes while surrounded by colorful artwork by kids that littered the walls of the Children’s Hospital.

Jess fixed Kara with an unimpressed look. “You’ve met her, right?” she asked rhetorically. “She goes out of her way to hide these visits. She says that she has to keep it under wraps because she wants to keep it about the kids and not her. But I think the truth is she’s just worried people would mistreat the kids and their families for allowing a ‘Luthor’ within ten feet of them.”

“Oh,” Kara said dumbly, a little stunned by the new information, and feeling guilty for her thoughts earlier. “That’s...awful.”

“I’m not telling you this for nothing, you know,” Jess continued, frowning at Kara. “She’s been avoiding lots of her usual charitable work since you’ve been around. The whole point of this was to get everyone else to see the real Lena Luthor, but she’s ruining it by being humble and noble.”

(Kara wanted to groan, roll her eyes, or better yet go over to Lena herself and shake her until she understood what Kara’s job was.

How was she supposed to make a documentary about Lena Luthor if Lena Luthor was so determined to hide herself away from the world?)

“What would you have me do?” she asked, not voicing her frustration, though it seeped into her tone anyway. “We have a deal, and she doesn’t want me to film these things.”

Jess shook her head, looking terribly unimpressed by the answer. “Don’t you have artistic integrity? Would you allow anyone else to boss you around and tell you what you could and couldn’t film?”

Kara looked over at Lena, who was now smiling at a young boy who had ambled up to her with his mother and infusion pump stand in tow. She watched as Lena actually dropped to her knees to talk to the boy, nodding vigorously at whatever he was saying. After a long moment, she turned back to Jess and shook her head. “No,” she said finally. “I guess I wouldn’t.”

And after Jess had given her another significant look before walking off, Kara raised her camera and began to film.

“Mr. Spheer, you’re an ex of Lena Luthor’s, right?”

“Ah, I see this documentary is quite personal. Are you sure that Lena is okay with this sort of thing going into her movie?”

“Well, it’s my movie. But she’s free to ask me to take things out.”

“Fascinating. Yes, I am Lena’s ex. I was quite brokenhearted when she broke it off to move to National City.”

“Oh, she broke it off?”

“So curious, Ms. Danvers. Perhaps you’re interested in something beyond a mere film?”

“W-what? No, that’s—please be serious, Mr. Spheer—”

“It’s Jack to you, my dear. What else do you need to know about Lena? Her favorite flowers are plumerias, her favorite food is—”

“—oh that’s really not necessary. If we could just focus on who Lena is as a person. A friend. A former girlfriend?”

“Hmm, yes. Well, just imagine your perfect woman, Ms. Danvers.”

“Oh, um, I—”

“—exactly, you see Lena. That’s an universal experience, I’m afraid. Lena is simply...too good for this world.”

“So you’d say the treatment she gets by the public is unfair?”

“It’s unfair how much people attack pineapple on pizza, Ms. Danvers. The way they speak of Lena without knowing her? That’s a pure travesty.”

They were about ten days into filming when Kara saw Lena relax for the first time.

She was using the word ‘relax’ rather loosely, of course. Lena didn’t do what Kara did after a long week—put on a pair of sweatpants, order loads of junk food, and watch so much Netflix that it eventually felt the need to ask her if she was still watching. In fact, Lena’s idea of relaxing was more work. Just, fun work.

She was dressed in jeans and a blue shirt, knees pulled up to her chest as she sat at her desk, mumbling under her breath as she did whatever she was doing. (She hadn’t bothered to explain to Kara, had just sighed and acquiesced to the presence of the camera in her home office.) Perched precariously at the tip of her nose were a thick black pair of glasses, her hair falling to her shoulders in gentle waves.

She looked different. Softer, somehow. Gone was all the trappings of a badass CEO, and all that was left was a clever (and beautiful) young woman, working on the things she loved in her spare time.

Kara zoomed in slightly, focusing on Lena’s face, on the furrow between her brows, her lips twisted in concentration. There was something there, something different, and Kara just wanted to—

“Is that camera heavy?” Lena asked, looking up suddenly, a curious expression on her face. She was good at that, the polite looks, gently asking for more information. Tiny eyebrow raises, nearly imperceptible softening of her eyes, lips quirked the slightest bit, all intended to disarm her quarry, making them drop their guard long enough that they give everything held close to their chest away.

“Not really,” Kara answered, grinning at Lena. This made the other woman blink in surprise, clearly not the response she was looking for, that expression on her face shifting suddenly, becoming more calculating. “I work out,” Kara went on to explain, shrugging easily, careful not to jostle the camera. “Besides, it’s not that heavy, I think about five pounds.”

“What kind of camera do you use?”

“Oh, it’s a Panasonic AG-HVX—” she cut herself off. “It’s not that interesting.” Kara adjusted her glasses and made sure Lena’s face was still in focus. Somehow, this made Lena’s tiny smile reappear. She stood up and circled her desk, and Kara was forced to back away to maintain focus.

“You love filming, don’t you?” Lena asked, and Kara blinked, not quite sure where she was going with this.

“Ms. Luthor, as I’m sure you’re aware, this film is about you.”

If she thought this would in any way cow Lena, she was wrong. Lena just grinned, looking like she’d somehow won something.

“Do you know what I don’t understand?” she said with faux casualness, crossing her arms and tapping a finger against her elbow. “Why would you, someone Cat Grant speaks so highly of, be willing to agree to this assignment? Something most people wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole.”

Kara frowned, not thinking as she responded. “It wasn’t assigned, Ms. Luthor. I pitched the idea. I wanted to do this.” Lena’s words sank in a moment later. “Wait. Cat Grant spoke highly of me?”

“Why?” Lena asked, no longer smiling.

Kara blinked at the change in tone. “Why what?” she asked, genuinely confused. This was, apparently, the wrong answer, because Lena chose that moment to begin pacing in front of her desk, looking more than a little bothered.

“I don’t get it,” she said as she paced. “I tried to figure it out, looked into you, into your work. I thought maybe you were doing this to build fame, but I’ve seen your work and even without a movie about the last Luthor, I have no doubt you’ll be very popular—”

“Oh, that’s nice of you, thank y—”

“—then I thought maybe you have a vendetta against my family and just want me to look bad,” Lena continued, barreling over Kara’s words and ignoring her entirely, “but the only connection between you and my family is your cousin, Clark Kent, and he’s the journalist who broke the story on my brother, so if anything I should dislike you—”

“That’s not exactly...Clark and I aren’t—”

“—so I really need you to explain it to me. Why did you want to make this film?” She paused her brisk pacing as she asked the question, meeting Kara’s eyes with a fierce look, one Kara was infinitely glad she was capturing on film. Because this, this glint in Lena’s eyes, was why Kara wanted to do this.

“Do you remember the speech you gave when you came to National City?” Kara asked, and judging from the way Lena’s eyebrows rose in response, she was rather thrown by the question. “Because I do. I watched it maybe a few dozen times. All those horrible questions, all the absolute certainty that you were like your brother, and you kept your head up and you promised to prove them all wrong, to make up for what he did.” Kara sighed, shutting off the camera and setting it aside gently. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it. I was...interested. I wanted to see more.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Did I meet your expectations? Disappoint you? What?”

Kara smiled, unable to help it. “Does my opinion on you really matter?”

“Do you always answer a question with another question?” Lena shot back, eyes narrowing.

Kara’s smile just widened and she began to gather her things, preparing to leave for the night. Impressively, Lena didn’t question her further, just watched her then followed her to the door, looking rather cross. Pausing briefly to adjust her glasses and the strap of her bag, Kara turned suddenly and met Lena’s eyes. “You exceeded them. My expectations, that is,” Kara added when Lena offered only a quizzical look in response.

For a moment, Lena didn’t react, then that same look from her office—the softness of her eyes, the curve of her lips, and the pleasantly confused crinkle between her brows—overtook her expression, and she let out a laugh.

“Well, good then.”

“You went to boarding school with Ms. Luthor?”

“I don’t think that’s public knowledge, how do you know that?”

“Um, Ms. Arias told me about you. She mentioned your relationship with Ms. Luthor is unique.”

“Well, Sam would know, wouldn’t she?”

“Ms. Rojas, if you don’t want to speak to me, you don’t have to.”

“It’s fine. Look, Lena and I have been estranged for a while now. I...I did something to break her trust.”

“So would you say that Ms. Luthor is difficult to get along with?”

“No, I’d say that Lena values things like honesty and trust, and—you know that Austen novel? With the man who says that once you lose his good opinion, it’s gone forever?”

“Pride and Prejudice?”

“Exactly. Lena is like that.”

“Ms. Luthor is like Mr. Darcy?”

“No, she’s classic. No matter what’s going on, she’ll endure.”

“So...you were the one difficult to get along with?”

“Have you ever thought about taking your work to a whole new level, Kara? How do you feel about virtual reality?”

“Oh, um, I don’t have particular thoughts? But I’d love to know yours about Ms. Luthor. For the film.”

“She won’t believe this, or that I’m saying it coercion free, but Lena is...a visionary. More than that, she’s just a decent person. Which is more than most of us can say, don’t you think?”

After their conversation, Lena opened up dramatically.

(Well, dramatically was a stretch, but considering how closed off she’d been before, the difference was rather drastic.)

Kara filmed Lena’s visit to an animal shelter, capturing the way her fingers gently ran over the fur of the dog that immediately trotted over to her, placing its head in her lap. Lena had then explained that she went to shelters often, just to volunteer, as she was unable to adopt for fear of not having time to give the dog the attention it deserved.

Later that week, Lena let Kara stay later than usual, putting on some music as she got to cooking, going as far as to teach Kara the basics of the dish, laughing when Kara admitted that her skill in the kitchen was limited to making sandwiches. At one point she grabbed the camera and set it aside, dragging Kara into the kitchen, giving instructions and lessons as she swayed her hips to the music.

(It was silly, it was lighthearted, it was fun, and Kara couldn’t help it.

She forgot she was there to make a film.)

And as the days and weeks dragged on, when Lena showed off her skills at the piano—apologetically explaining she hadn’t had time to really play in months—or when she told Kara about her very ‘nerdy’ stamp collection or even when Lena seemed to ignore there was a camera between them and she began to talk about her day and her hopes for the weekend, Kara forgot that it was a job. She forgot that she was supposed to be making something, paying attention to more than Lena’s smile or the way her eyes lit up whenever she mentioned work she was particularly passionate about.

Somewhere along the way, Kara cared more about the opportunity to spend time with Lena than she did the film itself.

More worryingly, that realization didn’t even bother her.

“Why filmmaking?” Lena asked one morning, pushing coffee and toast towards Kara with a tiny smile. The camera was still in its bag, untouched since Kara had arrived nearly an hour earlier. “Why not journalism like your cousin?”

“My cousin and I,” Kara began awkwardly, adjusting her glasses, “well, our relationship is a little strained, I guess.” She didn’t need the slight tilt of Lena’s head to know that Lena wanted her to keep going, to explain further. She let out a soft chuckle and rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers. “Um, so my parents died when I was twelve. And Clark sort of...left me? I went to live with the Danvers instead, and they bought me a camera for my birthday.” Kara grinned at the very memory, still able to feel its weight in her hand, the eyepiece against her eye. “It was one of those old camcorders, do you remember? The ones with the tapes? I drove them nuts, filming literally everything. I don’t think they ever saw my face for the first few months I was with them, it was constantly behind the camera.” She didn’t explain why she wanted to document every moment with her new family, but judging from the way Lena’s eyes softened, she understood anyway. “From there it became serious. I started making films. School projects, etc. Now I’m here.”

“Why documentaries? Why not something like...oh, I don’t know, action movies?” Lena prodded, looking curious, looking interested, looking like the answer mattered.

Kara just shrugged, suddenly not able to look Lena in the eye. “I guess there’s a part of me that wanted to take after Clark.”

“How long have you been working for Ms. Luthor?”

“Um, this December will make seven years.”

“As her assistant, you have remarkable access to her. What’s she like?”

“Driven, ambitious, works way too hard. I don’t think she’s ever taken a holiday or even a break...but um, maybe don’t say that in the film.”

“Artistic integrity, remember? She works hard, that’s clear. But what about personally? Her relationship with you and the other employees? What kind of boss is she?”

“She cares a lot. A few years ago, before Lex Luthor, well. You know. Before all that, LuthorCorp was facing serious losses. Mr. Luthor wanted to just get rid of entire departments, but Ms. Luthor said the research was vital, and more than that, the researchers were important. She convinced her brother to keep them on—she won’t admit it, but it was more than being persuasive. She paid for it out of her own pocket.”

“So you’d say she’s charitable?”

“No, she’s passionate. And she fights for the things she believes in. Ms. Luthor likes to say that charity implies pity, and she doesn’t do anything out of pity. She just does what’s right by people.”

“Some would disagree, they’d argue that LuthorCorp, and by extension its new iteration, L-Corp, don’t care about people, but about profits. Do you think that’s a fair assessment of the company you’ve devoted seven years to?”

“Look. I get it, people are suspicious of L-Corp because it used to be LuthorCorp. But it’s not just a name change. When Lena took over, she gutted her company. There’s not a single program left from Mr. Luthor’s time as CEO. L-Corp is all Ms. Luthor.”

“So if L-Corp is Ms. Luthor, who is Ms. Luthor?”

“She’s a woman who’s been hurt all her life, Kara Danvers, and whose only goal is to keep as many people as she can from hurting too. Sometimes I just wish she realized she doesn’t deserve to be hurt anymore either.”

“Oh.”

“Also, I don’t care about your artistic integrity, that last bit does not go in the film.”

One afternoon, when Kara was dangerously close to dozing off on the couch in Lena’s office—camera turned off and set aside, not really needing more footage of Lena working at her desk—Lena suddenly jumped to her feet, an excited gleam in her eyes.

“They’ve done it,” she said, the smile forming on her lips so wide that Kara found herself smiling back.

“Done what?” Kara asked, fairly sure this would lead to Lena’s refrain of ‘that’s company business and I’m afraid you’re not privy to that information’ but instead, Lena looked at her appraisingly, then rolled her eyes.

“If I allow you to bring your camera in R&D, do you swear not to film my ongoing projects?”

“You’re going to let me film in R&D?” Kara said excitedly, jumping to her feet and grabbing her camera.

“Kara, do you swear?”

“Yes, yes, of course, Ms. Luthor. I absolutely swear.”

And the next thing Kara knew, she was filming in the one place she’d been told was off-limits, capturing the lab and Lena talking to her researchers animatedly about the advancement they’d made in gene therapy, not entirely surprised when Lena shoved the scientists towards Kara and urged them to brag about their achievement—while also warning them to be as vague as possible—and then sank into the background, clearly thrilled to have her scientists as the center of attention.

And later, when Lena decided to actually take a lunch hour as a ‘reward’ for the great strides L-Corp had made, she took Kara along, bought three different appetizers, and smiled her wide smile before she said, “It’s Lena, by the way. Just Lena.”

Mouth still bulging with the three potstickers she’d practically inhaled, Kara couldn’t manage much more than a nod, but later—when she was alone—she tried saying the name aloud, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

“Mrs. Luthor—”

“It’s doctor, actually.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Dr. Luthor. You adopted Ms. Luthor when she was four, is that correct?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have time for this nonsense. I consented to this interview only to say one thing: Lena was always the more clever of my children, but she’s foolish and soft, and this silly film is yet another example of that.”

“You agreed to meet with me to just say...that. Okay. That’s um. Fine.”

As the weeks dragged on, Kara had little reason to continue filming. Her deadline with Cat Grant was fast approaching, and she had more than enough footage. All that really remained was editing, of putting the final pieces together. But she found herself filming anyway.

Every day, she’d make her way to Lena’s apartment, making flimsy excuses about how certain footage was no good, or had been corrupted, and that she needed retakes of Lena doing ordinary things (like reading the paper, cooking dinner, or talking about her day). She knew that Lena could tell her excuses were just that, but mercifully, Lena didn’t seem to want to call her out on it, merely gave soft reminders not to stay up so late every night to edit (the ‘you could just as easily stop wasting your time here and be editing during normal hours’ going unsaid).

(Jess had rolled her eyes when Kara came by L-Corp and Lena mentioned offhandedly that Kara somehow hadn’t gotten a shot of Lena entering her building in all the time she’d shadowed the CEO, and wasn’t that odd?)

But what Kara knew, what made her stretch out these moments as long as she possibly could, was that once the final product popped into existence, once she showed Lena and got her okay to send off to Cat Grant, that was it.

No more Lena.

And that terrified her.

(So she gathered more footage, fruitlessly hoping that the final product would never be ready, dragging her feet at every step.

She edited, studying Lena’s every expression, tried to pinpoint the exact moment she’d started to fall for the not-so-detached CEO extraordinaire, and wished it didn’t all have to come to an end.)

Two days after Kara had sent Lena the finished film, she got a curt email from the CEO herself with only three words: come see me.

Jess gave no indication about how her boss was feeling when Kara arrived, merely stared evenly at Kara and gestured with her head for her to just go on in. When Kara tried to ask her, Jess shook her head, pointed at the door to Lena’s office, and made a shooing gesture.

“It’s odd to see you without a camera,” Lena said when Kara sat down across from her, trying to keep her hands from fidgeting.

“It’s odd to be in here without a camera.” Kara took a deep breath. “Did you watch it?” she blurted, unable to keep it in. “What did you think?”

“You’re really fond of certain themes,” Lena said, then she raised her eyebrow. “You also filmed quite a bit when I had asked you not to.”

“Artistic integrity?” Kara tried, and Lena...laughed.

“I don’t know if I agree with the way you portrayed me,” she said slowly as her amusement faded. “You took a lot of liberties.”

“I was very faithful to the subject of the film, Lena.”

“What do you think you were trying to say?” Lena asked, waving off Kara’s comment.

“What meaning did you get from it?”

Lena studied her for a moment, as if she was trying to read Kara’s mind. “I’m not some selfless genius, Kara.”

“Is that what you think the film is saying?” Kara asked her, not rising to the obvious bait. “Like I said, Lena. I was very faithful to the subject of the film.” For a long moment, Lena didn’t respond, and Kara felt the worry she’d managed to push away since sending the film to Lena creep back in. “Does this mean you don’t approve of the film?”

“Hmm?” Lena said, distracted. “No, I’ve already sent it along to Cat Grant, giving my okay. Even though you broke our agreement, I can’t deny the final result was very favorable to me.”

“I wouldn’t have made something that wasn’t completely true,” Kara said, somewhat hotly, most of her irritation bleeding away with the knowledge that Cat Grant was in possession of the final product, that the rest was up to her.

Lena smiled, eyes soft, and she nodded her head almost incredulously. “No, you wouldn’t. I know that.” She cleared her throat, seeming a bit nervous. “But I was thinking. I’ve been missing our talks about your work, and I know you don’t like talking about what you’ve made, but perhaps you’d make an exception for me. Would you be willing to give me a private showing of your film? Give me all the insider secrets? I know your subject quite well, it would be a fun exercise.”

Kara’s heart slammed to a stop, the jump-started at the sight of Lena’s amused eyes, that tiny curve of her lips. “A private showing, huh?” Kara mumbled, feeling a little dazed. “I still won’t tell you what I was trying to say.”

“That’s completely fair.”

“But I suppose I could give you some insight on my thoughts.”

“Only if you wanted.”

“It may have to be more than one session,” Kara said, trying and failing to stop the spread of her smile. “There’s a lot of footage you know.”

“So it’s a date?” Lena asked, and Kara couldn’t help her eager nod.

“It’s definitely a date.”

#thank you so much!#supercorp #fanfic

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