#louisa wanted to start a SCHOOL WITH HIM

[rafeandonlyrafe]

w for wheezie

words: 1.5k

warnings: very wheezie heavy i stan her, established relationship, physical violence!, descriptions of blood, rafe vs pogues, cameron family drama

“what do you think?” you hold up two letters, each silver with diamonds encrusted in them. “w for wheezie or l for louisa?”

“umm…” wheezie looks at the charms, tapping her chin, eyes flicking back and forth between the two.”

“i would say both, but…” you shrug, leaving the decision up to her.

“i think w because everyone calls me wheezie.” she decides.

“perfect.” you smile, looking at the chain lengths next. you love spending time with wheezie, especially when its shopping days like today where you take her to the mall or whatever store she wants.

usually rafe would accompany you, always hanging back to allow you to gossip, even if it was about him and your relationship. he’d only appear when you headed to the cash register, supplying his credit card to pay for whatever clothes or accessories you got.

“we should stop by sephora next.” you say as the cashier rings up your jewelry, various bracelets and necklaces, along with a chain and ring you bought for rafe (or really he bought for himself as you hand the cashier his card, but at least you picked it out).

“i need a new foundation for the summer.” wheezie says. it makes you pout for a moment, thinking about how grown up she is. you’ve been friends with rafe since middle school and used to play barbies with wheezie and take her to the american girl doll store, and now you’re taking her to buy makeup and try on dresses for homecoming.

“maybe a tinted moisturizer.” you remark, walking with bags in your hand to sephora.

--

“i would call this a successful haul.” you giggle as you load up your car, having to put bags in the backseat as well once the trunk is full. you turn on a playlist of yours and wheezies favorite songs, having different playlists ready for whoever you’re with.

it’s practical to buy so much at one time since you made the almost two hour drive to norfolk to visit the mall, and probably won’t be back for a long time. you prefer staying in the outer banks to shop, but it’s not always possible with the limited number of stores.

“do you think you have time next week to take me to get my haircut?” wheezie asks, already looking a bit like a mini you, and you have no doubt she’ll ask for a similar haircut.

“of course, wheezie girl!” you nod before letting out a squeal when one of your favorite songs come on, you both belting out the words as you make your way back towards tanneyhill, driving through marshy swamplands, little towns and finally crossing over the bridge.

you pull up the driveway, surprised how eerily quiet it seems to be. usually rafe would be running out the door to make sure you didn’t carry anything in.

“stay in the car for a sec wheezie girl…” you have a strange feeling building, and you always trust your gut. you look back to make sure she doesn’t follow you as you walk into the house to hear muffled grunting.

“rafe?” you call out, your cautious footsteps turning into a run as you make your way further into the house until you see rafe being held up by john b, jjs arm pushing forward to punch him in the gut.

“stop it!” you shout, running in to push jj away, but the second rafe is out of john bs tight hold, he turns to attack them, bravely taking on both in a flair of fists.

“stop it, rafe!” you shout, pulling at his arm. he only pauses when he feels your gentle touch, but john b doesn’t quit, reaching out to hit rafe again, right in the nose as he instantly starts to bleed.

“sarah!” you scream, finally noticing her in the corner of the room, sat with a glazed look in her eye with her knees pulled up to her chest. “stop your freaking attacking dog boyfriend!” you step between the boys, all three of them panting heavily, rafes nose dripping blood down the front of his shirt.

“we are fucking rescuing her!” jj says, puffing his chest up.

“what?” you turn to look at sarah, waiting for an explanation.

“rafe tried to lock me in the house.” she finally says, seeming to shake out of whatever daze she’s in as she stands up. “he tried to stop me from seeing john b.”

“im just trying to do whats best for you, sarah.” rafe says, his voice sounding hoarse from the fight. “he’s a bad guy.”

“no he’s not!” sarah shouts, no doubt going to start in on tirade when you hold your hand up.

“sarah, go with john b. just…” you let out a deep sigh. “get out of here. be back by dark though.” you shoo her away. no way she’s going to actually listen to you and be back by sundown, but at least it gives you time to figure out what’s going on and tend to rafe.

you turn to watch them leave, frown appearing on your face when you see wheezie standing there, looking like a scared little girl you once knew.

“wheeze-” you call to her, but she runs up her stairs into her room, slamming her door loudly. a problem for later, you decide as you turn to rafe.

“come on, baby, lets get you cleaned up.” you say softly, trying to lessen the anger so visible on his features. you lead rafe into the kitchen, wetting a rag with warm water as you gently drag it over his face, feeling tears well up in your eye when you see his busted lip.

“how was shopping? did you have fun?” rafe asks, making you glare at him.

“don’t you dare try to change the topic, rafe cameron. what happened?” you sigh.

“john b and those pogues are fucking criminals. there’s someone who has been robbing houses, and i don’t doubt it’s those fucking-” rafe lets out an angry grunt when you press the washcloth against his cheek, a bruise already forming. “im just trying to protect my family.”

“sarah isn’t a kid anymore, you gotta let her protect herself.” you say softly. “besides, wheezie seeing you all beat up and bloodied isn’t-”

“it was only because it was two against one.” rafe counters.

“baby.” you shake your head. “you’re missing the point. you have no proof that they’re doing anything. trust sarah, alright? i’ll talk to her later.”

“what would we do without you.” rafe smiles, cringing slightly when it stretches his lip, but it doesn't stop him from pressing his mouth against yours, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“you deserve the cameron last name more than sarah does.” rafe says, holding you tight against him, feeling your hands shaking slightly. “gonna marry you one day.”

“alright, buddy.” you giggle, making rafe roll his eyes as you pull away. he loves to talk about your future together despite still being so young. you can’t say you haven’t spent time imagining it yourself. “im gonna go talk to wheeze.”

“okay.” rafe gives you another kiss before watching you walk away.

you walk softly up the stairs, tapping your knuckles against wheezies door before opening it up.

“hey, everyone is okay.” you say softly, seeing her sitting on her bed, phone in hand, no doubt scrolling to distract from anything she’s feeling.

“i’m fine.” wheezie shakes her head. she may look fine, but you can see the look in her eyes. she’s just as shaken as you are, if not more.

“it’s okay to not be, though.” you sit down on the bed next to her. “you saw your brother getting beat up, you’re allowed to not be okay with seeing that.”

“its just…” wheezie sighs. “sarah has been so different lately since she started hanging out with john b. she even lied to me the other day.”

“im sorry, wheezie girl.” you wrap her in a tight hug. “your sister loves you. she’s just a teenager, going through a rebellious phase of life. she doesn’t realize that her actions have consequences and can hurt the people she loves.”

“will you talk to her?” wheezie asks. “you always know what to say.”

“of course.” you nod, pulling away from the hug, forcing a smile on your face. “but hey, let’s go get our shopping bags.”

“okay.” wheezie manages a smile.

you walk downstairs to see rafe has already brought everything in from the car, placing it all throughout the front entrance.

you smile as wheezie instantly goes for the sephora bags as you wrap your arms around rafe, pressing your head against his chest.

“its all gonna be alright.” you tell him.

“as long as you’re with me, you’re right.” rafe presses a kiss to the top of your head, his eyes bulging when he sees the dress wheezie pulls out. 

“you are not wearing that-” he begins to argue, finger wagging just like his dad would.

“it’s not for me, its for y/n!” wheezie argues.

“oh.” rafe looks down at you, noting the blush spread across your cheeks. “well, you can wear that but only for me.”

“rafe!” you squeal while wheezie makes a grossed out face.

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[yourdarkcherry]

Seducing Rafe Cameron || Ch.2

Summary: You were blessed with an easy life since you were born, but it’s all threatened when your dad’s business fails and you find yourself with no prospects and no education and so your only solution is to marry rich. Who’s a better candidate than the older brother of your ex-best friend from high school? So you do everything in your power to seduce Rafe Cameron, not knowing he’s the root to all your problems.

Warnings: toxic relationship, spoiled reader, sexist elements, dark content, blackcoded reader, pregnancy, physical and emotional abuse, manipulation, gaslighting, death threats, eventual smut.

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Divider by: @/cafekitsune

Rafe didn’t give you any instructions on where to meet him for Wheezie’s driving lesson, or when it’s supposed to happen. So you spend most of your afternoon and evening glancing outside the window by the foyer. 

If your mom notices your glances, then she doesn’t speak. 

It’s when you’re preparing your dad’s usual evening coffee that you hear knocks on the door, your heart starts accelerating at the prospect of Rafe and Wheezie being behind that door. You almost want to run to the door, but you pretend to be all calm and collected as you’re pouring the freshly brewed coffee in your dad’s favorite mug. 

“Rafe, and Louisa, it’s nice seeing you,” you catch your father’s greeting from your spot in the kitchen, your heart feels light. 

You decide to take a moment to compose yourself before joining the gathering in the foyer. As you walk toward the doorway, you overhear Rafe responding to your father's greeting with polite pleasantries, you could also hear Wheezie laughing here and there, also answering some questions.

Before you exit, you stare at your reflection one last time in the mirror by the corridor, when you like what you see you smile and join them.

Your eyes catch Rafe’s blue irises first, “Hey there,” he greets, and you reciprocate with a smile of your own.

“Hi, Rafe, and Wheezie,” you say, tilting your head to stare at her, and directing your attention to his younger sister. Wheezie's eyes light up, and she gives you a sweet grin, “I just hope you’re ready for some driving action, because we have a whole plan ahead of us,” walking outside your home, Rafe followed her and you followed suit. 

You stare between her and Rafe with a curious stare, but still thrilled at the prospect of spending some time with them both. 

“I was born ready,” you answer, making Wheezie laugh as she heads to the driver’s seat in her tiny red mini cooper. 

Truth to be said, after your massive drama with Sarah you avoided her family naturally too. Not because you didn’t like them, but every time you saw them you’d just be reminded of the pain you went through. So it still felt strange that despite you having those pent up thoughts about them, and distancing yourself that they still thought positively of you, you couldn’t help but feel guilt-ridden. 

Before you could reach for the door handle for the backseats, Rafe was quicker and opened the door for you instead. You smiled at him, tucking your hair behind your ear as you thanked him clearly, “Thanks, Rafe.” 

“You’re welcome,” he responded, watching you get in and then he shut the door before he rounded the car to claim the passenger seat. 

“Is this your car?” you asked Wheezie who was busy checking her mirrors, she let out an affirming hum, “it is, Rafe managed to convince dad to buy me my first car before getting my license so I’m more prone to be careful while driving,” she answered, and Rafe affirmed as he took his seat, “I was right, you’re much more careful driving in your car than anyone else’s, how many times did you crash my car?” he glanced at you when you laughed.

Wheezie exhaled dramatically, “accidents like this are supposed to happen, I’m a beginner!”

“So, what’s on today’s agenda?” you asked, buckling in yourself in the middle seat of the seats in the back.

Wheezie already started driving as she answered, “Rafe thinks it’s better to practice in real streets than in the practice driving range, and I was thinking that we should stop at the Milkshake Palace and then head to the beach, and then we could stop at the mall and I could flaunt to you my amazing parking skills.”

You giggled, “I will only be impressed if you manage to parallel park,” 

“Hey, you’re asking for the impossible, let’s just hope she even manages to get out of Figure 8 safely,” Rafe commented, glancing at you several times and then stopping when Wheezie took her right hand off the steering wheel to swat him. 

“He’s exaggerating, and don’t be an ass, Rafe. Or I will be banning you to the backseats and making (Y/N) teach me how to drive.” Wheezie replied with a playful glare, you raised your hands defensively, “I really don’t think you should ask me, I’m not the best at that, I only recently learned how to parallel park.”

Rafe and Wheezie both laughed at your words. As the car smoothly navigated through the familiar streets, you couldn't help but appreciate the pleasant atmosphere that only continued to flourish between you three.

You have missed Wheezie, and Rafe too. You didn’t interact much with the latter because of his tense relationship with Sarah back then, and now too, but you were just fine with him. You couldn’t help but wonder how your current life would be if Sarah was still in it, if she’d never slept with your boyfriend in high school.

Well, for starters she would be the one teaching Wheezie how to drive, she’d be the one to accompany you in midsummers and to make you laugh, and she’d be the one you would tell about your father’s failing business and she’d allow you to cry about it as much as you wanted without complaining once.

While the prospect of a romantic relationship with Rafe would be out of question because you’ve always been so loyal to Sarah, you couldn’t help but be a little thankful that the friendship ended way before your father’s bankruptcy. 

“Right, I haven’t heard much of you (Y/N), what are you doing lately?” Wheezie asked, lowering the volume of the music. 

“Not much, if I’m honest, I have been dabbling in pilates classes and some photography classes too, and I’m learning how to cook, but other than that I’m just shopping at the mall.” You answered honestly, even though the last part you haven’t done since you’ve learned of the regress of your dad’s business.

Wheezie hummed, then you could see her widening smile from the reflection of the rear-view mirror, and you just knew in your core that Wheezie was going to ask a very personal question. But how bad could it be? Nothing could be horrible, and your only secret you had to protect would be your family’s bankruptcy. 

“So, any lucky secret man?” you laughed at her question, and as much as you wanted to look at Rafe to observe his reaction, you couldn’t not when you felt his intense stare at you. Despite him being in the front seat, he looked way too much at you, and tilted his head a lot to the back. 

You couldn’t calm your thrilled heart, he had to be at least interested in you if he kept looking at you like this, you hoped this would at least be the case. 

“Nope, why, you got one?” you wondered, now glancing at Rafe when he looked away. 

His expression was unreadable, and the smile on his lips was tense. You hoped it was jealousy, or something that meant he had to be interested in you even for a little bit. 

He didn’t have to be so interested in you to ask you to marry him, you just had to be around and he had to think that you fit the perfect stereotype of the typical housewife in Figure 8. You would say you were like the rest of them, you knew a lot of rich housewives that were like you in their youth. 

They too had useless certificates, you already got yours in hospitality and never looked back at it since you graduated. You only had one just to say you got some form of education so you were smart but not too smart to scare rich men away. 

“I don’t, the boys I like don’t like me and the boys I don’t like don’t like me either,” she said, letting out a sigh and finally pulling up to the phosphorescent sign of the Milkshake Palace. 

“All Highschool boys are stupid and immature, I’m sure you’ll find your person after graduation.” You reassured, and she hummed thoughtfully, then you scooted to the edge of your seat, resting your head on the shoulder of Rafe’s seat, “what about you? Any lucky secret girl we don’t know about?”

He seemed stunned as he looked at you, surprised at your proximity, then his gaze dropped just slightly and you didn’t have to be a psychic to know he definitely stared at your cleavage. 

“Uhm, no, no one.” he continued to look at you even when you backed to your seat. 

The atmosphere shifted slightly after your question. Rafe’s eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he faced the front, as Wheezie steered the car into a parking spot. She failed to park correctly a few times, but that didn’t drown her excitement when you all exited the car and walked to the building.

“It’s been so long since I came here, I think the last time I came to this branch I was still in high school.” you commented, analyzing the slight changes in the building, and liking how the neon lights looked against the night sky. 

“Really? Rafe and I come here at least three times a week,” Wheezie said.

You looked at the blond, “I think you were the one that showed me this spot back in highschool,” you recalled.

“I did?” he asked, and you nodded, “yeah, I remember you drove us and Sarah to the mall but you were so angry that the mall didn’t have a Milkshake Palace branch at the mall, so you took us here instead after you picked us up.”

Wheezie laughed, as Rafe stared at you with faux confusion, “no way, I don’t remember me being that angry about something so trivial,” you nudged him with your elbow, “well, I remember and I will never let you live it down, ever.”

Rafe chuckled, a genuine smile breaking through the tension that lingered from your earlier question. As you entered the Milkshake Palace, the nostalgic atmosphere mixed with the sweet aroma of milkshakes filled the air and slapped you harshly in your cheek, all you could think of was you and Sarah entering this place, arms linked and laughing. 

You purposely kicked out these thoughts, and paid attention to the siblings ahead of you. The three of you found a cozy booth towards the back, surrounded by neon signs and the low hum of conversations. 

Wheezie slid first inside the booth, you sat next to her and Rafe opposite you. Rafe handed you the menu, despite the two knowing exactly what they’re going to order. You shrugged your shoulders and pushed it back to him, “Why don’t you choose for me? I want to know the hype you make about this place.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on his lips. “You’re putting your milkshake fate in my hands? Bold move.”

You nodded with a grin, “Absolutely. I trust you, Rafe. Impress me with your milkshake selection skills.” Wheezie chimed in, her eyes sparkling with amusement, “I have to see this, Rafe. Make it unforgettable.”

Rafe pretended to ponder for a moment, scanning the menu with exaggerated seriousness. Then he nodded and stood up, “Alright, brace yourselves. I’m going to introduce you to the best Milkshake Palace masterpieces.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, then you hid your laugh behind your palm as you and Wheezie stared at each other when Rafe walked away. 

“Look at him, he looks so serious, all because we entrusted him to select some silly milkshakes for us.” Wheezie comments in a slightly loud whisper, making you laugh harder and hold onto her shoulder to stabilize yourself. 

She smiles at you when your laughter dies, “I’m so happy we get to hang out again like back then,” she comments, and the guilt you felt earlier returns horribly. Especially with how genuine she looks. 

“I’m happy too, I missed hanging out with you.” You respond sincerely. 

Wheezie’s eyes softened, and she nudged you gently, “I understand you and Sarah had a big fight, she didn’t tell me lots of details but she told me she wronged you months after everything.” 

“It was just some stupid high school drama, I’m completely over it now. But how is she? Do you speak to her?” you asked.

You didn’t know much about the Camerons after your falling out with Sarah, but you knew that after high school she started seeing a man from The Cut for years secretly, apparently he used to work for her father, and around last year she started living with him when Ward found out.

“I haven’t talked to her in months, dad is still really upset. Once she tried to visit with that man and he kicked her out, and since then he forbade all of us from talking to her.” She answered, looking at her intertwined fingers.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Wheezie. I had no idea things had gotten so complicated for Sarah,” you replied, genuine sympathy in your voice. Then you reached to hold her intertwined hands, and squeezed them gently, “It must’ve been tough for you dealing with all this mess, but I want you to know that I’m here for you,” 

She smiled appreciatively, and you knew she wouldn’t take your last offer seriously and would think you were simply being polite, but you were stubborn. “Seriously, I will be there for you, if you need anything just call me and I will be there.” You said, for her sake, as you missed Wheezie and wanted to be there for her like an older sister and you knew Ward would never allow her to contact Sarah ever. 

You took her phone, and dialed your phone number and when you felt your phone vibrate in your purse you ended the call, “Here, you have my number so if you need anything at any time, you know what to do.” 

Her smile widened, and her stare at you turned slightly wet, so you didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm over her shoulder to bring her in a sideways hug, “I know I have already said it, but I’m really glad we reconnected again.” She said with a quivering voice, and quickly wiping away her tears under her glasses. 

The harsh pang of guilt comes again to attack you, and you think back to how you behaved back then.

Did you really have to distance yourself from Wheezie who you have alway thought of as your younger sister, all because of Sarah? Did you even have to stop being friends with Sarah? Surely even after everything and all this time, you still miss her a lot and you think of her a lot.

You’re not angry that she slept with your ex-boyfriend, you're just angry that she didn’t care enough about you to not do it, or to hide it all this time. 

When Wheezie completely wipes her tears away, Rafe returns, and distributes three very different looking milkshakes to each of you. 

“I just guessed what you two would like,” Rafe said, handing you a pink milkshake. You thanked him, and took it and popped the lid with the straw. 

“I just hope it doesn’t have mint chocolate,” Wheezie muttered, taking her light colored milkshake from him, and doing the same exact thing as you. She comments when she takes her first sip, “It’s actually good, I didn’t expect you to have good taste honestly.” 

“What were you two talking about?” Rafe questioned, noting Wheezie’s red eyes and nose. She stiffened next to you, and you didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out the subject of Sarah was a pretty sensitive topic for Rafe. So, you shrugged your shoulders and lied, “just girl talk.” 

She nodded, looking at you with a sheepish smile, “we were just talking about a suitable time for a girl’s day.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, studying the both of you suspiciously, not buying your lie whatsoever, but he decided not to press further. Instead, he grabbed a seat, placing himself across from you two, and took a sip of his own milkshake.

“Girl’s day, huh? Sounds like fun,” he remarked, shooting a glance your way. You simply nodded in agreement. Wheezie, who’s eager to steer the conversation away from the sensitive territory, said, “we could go to the movies, or oh oh! We could go shopping! I need new clothes for school anyways.”

You matched her eagerness with a thrilled smile of your own, “Absolutely, and we could get our nails done!” you displayed your fingers to her and wiggled them playfully. She nodded as her smile widened, “oh okay okay, what time suits you?”

“I’m available the whole day the day after tomorrow, is it okay with you?” You suggested. 

She nodded excitedly with a big smile on her face, you mirrored it and giggled when she started pre-planning your activities.

Your conversation smoothed easily the whole drive to the beach, and even at the beach where you played a messy game of chasing each other, and even going as far as splashing each other—to be frank you didn’t start it, but joined it in revenge as the duo ganged up on you.

When Wheezie parked her car at Tannyhill, she quickly gasped when her eyes fell on the clock at her dashboard. 

“I completely forgot Claire is sleeping over!” she yelled, then she held your hand and squeezed it, “I’m sorry but my friend is coming over in like five minutes, and I didn’t prepare anything!” you laughed, shook your head as you reassured her, “don’t worry, you go first,” 

She hugged you goodbye quickly, and then dashed with a hasty wave into her house. 

You turned to face Rafe, stunned to find him already staring at you. With a small smile he said, “let me walk you home.”

You agreed with a nod and walked alongside him towards your home. It was already dark when they picked you up, and when you arrived at Tannyhill it was three hours after. There is still an appropriate time for a debriefing session with your mother if you wish while you help her with dinner. 

“Thanks for tonight. It was unexpected but fun,” you expressed, looking up at him with sincere appreciation in your eyes. 

He shook his head, “You’re always welcome, you’re like…” he trailed off and you hoped to all the power in this universe that he wouldn’t say you’re like a sister to him. 

“The best person to have around,” he said, you had to physically restrain yourself from sighing in relief. 

“I’m just glad Wheezie has someone to look up to after…you know…” Sarah’s name flashed inside your head at his insinuation. “She needs an older sister figure, someone to guide her and to be there for her. I try to be there for her but it’s just not the same,” You nodded in agreement at his words.

“You’re right,” you said, knowing just how much men loved being told they’re right, and partially because he was actually right in his judgment. “Especially at her age, I didn’t have anyone so I made some stupid mistakes I knew I wouldn’t make if I had an older sister’s guidance.”

Rafe tilted his head to you with surprise, narrowed his gaze and commented, “You didn’t make any stupid mistakes,” then he quickly added in an exaggerated whisper, “at least ones that I knew of.” 

You laughed, “first thank you for saying that, but trust me, I have had my fair share of stupid mistakes too.”

“Like what?” he demanded, you avoided his stare as his smile widened. You hoped you at least looked cute enough for him to keep you around. 

“Now why would I tell you about my stupid mistakes?” you said with a faux scandalized stare, hand on your chest. 

“Can’t you just tell me because I want to know?” he responds.

You smirked playfully, enjoying the banter. “Well, let’s just say my teenage years were full of questionable fashion choices and a series of not-so-impressive crushes. Nothing too fun, unfortunately for you.”

Rafe chuckled, “Fashion choices, huh? Now I'm curious.”

“Maybe one day, I'll show you some embarrassing photos,” you teased, making a mental note to keep those hidden forever.

You could see your house getting closer and closer, and just like the years after your falling out with Sarah you cursed that your house was relatively close to hers. Only this time you cursed that fact, because if it was further than you’d get to speak to Rafe more.

At that wish you could almost hear your mother tutting and telling you that a woman needed to keep her mystery for a man to keep having an interest in her. You wanted Rafe to be interested in you, and so after cursing that fact you thanked it in your head. 

He had to have interest, even if it was mild then it was good because most rich married men in your social circle didn’t have that much of an interest in their wives. 

As you approached your house, the atmosphere lightened, and Rafe’s eyes held a warmth that didn’t go unnoticed and set a swarm of butterflies in your core. You had to kick out that feeling. You shouldn’t harbor a crush for Rafe, or god forbid fall in love with him.

All for the possibility that he might lose interest completely, and ice you out if you weren’t his cup of tea and thought some other girl was more of a wife material than you. It happened before, you’ve seen it before and you knew you might be a victim of such a scenario as well. 

If he did that, then you wanted it to be easy for you to move on and seduce some other unsuspecting rich man. Perhaps his friend Kelce, you heard he will inherit his father’s country club. Or perhaps Topper, maybe he’s over Sarah and you were just speaking way too soon. He is such a Mama’s boy though, and while that was not good in general you could still wow his mother to pair him with you.

Cynthia was hard to please, but you were determined. 

As you looked over your family’s property. Your determination to keep all of it intact grew stronger. You would do the impossible to keep all of it, and ensure that your parents never have to step foot at The Cut.

“So, am I going to see you tomorrow morning?” he asked, you couldn’t miss the hopeful glint he had in his ocean blue eyes. Were they always that blue? You wondered.

Grinning, you answered, “I don’t know, I guess you have to ask my alarm.” He laughed at your response, before he could speak you added, “I might, I have pilates at ten, and I have to run a few errands after so I have to be in a productive mentality to get everything done.”

“Then you’re going to be finished at twelve?” he asks. 

You’re confused at his question, but you nod your head nonetheless. 

He nodded with a thoughtful expression, “Great. How about we grab lunch after your errands?”

Your heart fluttered as if spring blossomed at the pits of your heart, tickling your insides and pulling at heartstrings you thought had died after everything. “Sure, that sounds good.”

As you reached your doorstep, you turned to face him. “Thanks again for tonight, Rafe. It was really fun.”

He smiled, his eyes holding a warmth that lingered. “Anytime. I'll see you tomorrow morning, and hopefully for lunch too.” 

You twisted the door knob, pushed it and looked back at him to find him waiting for you to get inside. 

You thought gentlemen like this died, but it seemed as the perfect example spawned before your eyes with blond hair and gorgeous baby blues. Clearing your throat as you waved shyly, “good night.”

He waved back, a stretching smile on his lips. When you shut the door, you quickly went to the window and looked secretly behind the curtain at him. He eyed your house for a bit, a smirk on his face then he looked down at his fingers and finally retreated towards Tannyhill. 

There was a subtle shift in your system, an unspoken feeling you didn’t want to name afraid it shall gain power and become resilient. 

For heaven’s sake, you wanted to seduce Rafe and have him like you and not the other way around. You didn’t want to get your heart broken, you weren’t doing this for fun, you were doing it out of a pure need of survival.

#seducing rafe cameron #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #obx rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #obx rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic

[prkwook]

THE STORM ⛈️ park gunwook

☆ pairing: high school student!gunwook x fem!reader

☆ genre: (slight??) angst, fluff,

☆ wc: 1.8k

☆ summary: your mind is a storm, spiraling like a hurricane, but at least you have someone ready to wait it out with you, no matter what happens.

☆ warnings: anxiety / social anxiety , reader has a panic attack (pls let me know if there are any i should add)

☆ note: this is my longest fic yet?!!!! not proofread

"I'm not afraid of storms, for I'm learning how to sail my ship." — Louisa May Alcott

You hate having to give presentations in class. So much so, you often skip class the day of your presentation because the thought of getting up in front of everyone makes you physically sick. Due to the amount of absences you were accruing because of this, you wanted to arrive early to school today to try and talk your way out of the presentation you were to give sometime today. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t. Unfortunately, today was not your lucky day.

When you slept 15 minutes past your alarm, only giving you 20 minutes to get ready and on your way, you thought it was just you being tired and when your hair straightener wouldn’t straighten how it always does, your excuse was that it was a hand-me-down from your older sister and it was getting old. But when your oatmeal was cold and you almost fell down the stairs on your way out the door, and you forgot your headphones at home, you decided that today, your luck (not that you normally have any) had run out.

When you got to school, you made a beeline directly towards the teacher’s office. When you got there, you found your teacher immediately and started walking towards him.

“Good morning, Y/n. What can I do for you this morning?” he asked you, eyes looking up at you from an email he was reading.

“Hi, Mr. Kim. You know those presentations we’re supposed to give today in class?” you mumbled. The frog in your throat was getting bigger by the minute and you didn’t know how much longer you could’ve stood there.

“Oh right! Thank you for reminding me! I completely forgot about those. What about ‘em?” You mentally kicked yourself. Another thing to add to the list of things that just couldn't go right. A nervous laugh escaped your mouth and in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to disappear.

“Right. Um, giving presentations makes me… uh… really um… nervous so I was wondering if I could maybe… uh… just come during lunch and just present to you instead of in front of the whole class.” You could already feel your usual day-of stomach ache coming on and it was not helping.

“I’m sorry, Y/n, but this is a really big part of your grade. Public speaking is very important for your future so you should get used to it. I’m sure everyone is nervous. Plus, I can’t go around making exceptions for people just because they’re nervous, now can I?” he questioned with an expectant look in his eyes. Unable to respond, you sighed quietly and drop your eyes to the hands fidgeting at your side.

“Oh... okay. I understand.” Honestly, you wondered if your day could get any worse?

Turns out, it could and just did.

“Hello, class!” Mr. Kim exclaims as he saunters into the room, smile on his face.

“Good morning, Mr. Kim.” the class less than enthusiastically says back to him.

“Aw, where’s the excitement?” Silence.

“Well …” he claps. “I had forgotten about your presentations today but was reminded about them this morning, thanks to Y/n!” he laughs. All 52 eyes in the class turn to look at you. You remember how you used to want to be Violet from The Incredibles when you were little and try to make yourself as invisible as possible. Maybe if you close your eyes, they’ll all disappear.

“Since you reminded me, why don’t you go first Y/n?” You hesitate and a second later, a hand shoots up. It’s the hand that belongs to the class president, your knight-in-shining armor, and the boy you’ve liked since the first day you joined this school, Park Gunwook.

“I’ll go first!” he announces and starts to walk up to the front of the classroom, hands carrying bright, neon-colored flashcards. You didn’t even prepare flashcards. You watch as he gives his presentation with the confidence only a scholar on the topic could have and when he’s done, you watch as he walks back to his seat and sit down.

“Would anyone else like to go?” Not a single hand raises. “Well, I guess it’s your turn then, Y/n.” You get up and silently shuffle to the front of the room, making a mental note of all of the eyes that travel with you on your way. You also can't help but notice how your hair and uniform are now slightly disheveled, a by-product from when you had to slump down in your seat in order to avoid the gazes of your classmates. Suddenly, you’re more self-conscious than ever, feeling the stare of every single person in the room bore into you. When you finally reach the front, you look out into the sea of eyes that are all staring right back at you.

You look down at your hands and fidget with your rings until you hear your teacher say that you can start when you’re ready. But what if you’ll never be ready? What if this fear of embarrassment, this fear that others will notice that your anxiousness and take advantage of it, never goes away?

“Um…” You feel your hands start to shake so you hide them in the pockets of your sweatshirt. “My project was on…. um…” You look up at the SMART board next to you that has the slide presentation you spent hours on, projected onto it. “It’s on …. um… Romeo- sorry… um … Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare.” You look up at the people who could clearly care less about your or your presentation but somehow, your brain has you convinced that they can see your anxiety, as if it’s written in big, bold letters right across your forehead. You start to get overwhelmed and all it takes is a quick glance to the corner where you can see two girls look at you, laugh, and then start whispering to each other, for you to be running out the door.

You run and run and run until you reach the staircase, a place you know no one will be this time of day, and finally let the tears spill. You’re seemingly safe and yet the thoughts in your head spiral like a hurricane, wreaking havoc on your emotions, the peaceful citizens in your brain. Your lungs burn with an all consuming fire, never letting you catch your breath, not for even a millisecond. Your hands are still shaking and you swear your heart is beating so fast, you might even be having a heart attack. You’ve felt these all too familiar feelings before and yet, they’re still as strong as the first time. Everything other than the hurricane is gone and yet, you can still feel a tap on your shoulder, a tap that alerts you of the presence of another being standing on the outside of your storm.

“Y/N, are you okay?” the person asks, worried laced in their words. You could recognize this voice from anywhere.

“Do I look okay?!” you yell, louder than intended. Gunwook recoils, words hitting him like cold water. Your storm widens and he's caught in the crossfire.

“Ok, I probably deserved that. Hey, it’s okay.” he says softly as if he’s trying not to scare you away. “Just breathe with me.” Inhale. Exhale. “Again.” Inhale, exhale. You feel your breathing start to return to normal but even still, you can’t seem to escape the storm. The boy sits down next to you and pats his shoulder. You lay your head down and cry on his shoulder for what feels like an eternity.

You sit up and look at his tear-stained shoulder. “Oh my god, I am so sorry." Embarassment floods your senses and a second wave of tears start to fall. Gunwook wraps his arms around you as if he's trying to protect you from the dangerous winds of your storm, now surrounding you both.

“Hey, no. It’s okay, I promise. No need to apologize. I completely understand how you feel. You might not believe me but trust me, I’ve gotten really good at hiding it. I don’t know if you noticed but while I was up there, my hands were shaking like crazy.”

As he talks, you feel your storm get smaller and smaller until it’s only just a little, tiny rain cloud floating above your head. You pull away and look him in the eyes.

“Why’d you chase after me?” you question, still looking into his warm, brown eyes. He looks right back into yours and wipes away a tear-shaped raindrop running down your cheek.

“Because I was worried about you, Y/N.”

“Why were you worried? I mean look at me, I've never been better.”

Gunwook laughs, and his laugh is a sound you're convinced is your new favorite. “What do you mean why? If the girl I like runs out of the classroom crying, obviously I’m going to be worried …. wait a second…..” He looks away to hide his cheeks, but his red ears are a dead giveaway.

“The girl you what?!”

“Shit. I’m sorry if that just made this awkward. I mean you said it yourself, we’re not really friends so I don’t blame you at all if you want me to leave. You know what, I’ll just go.” As he gets up and starts to walk back in the direction of your classroom, you grab his hand.

“Don’t I get to say my piece now?” Gunwook pauses and you take this as a sign to continue. “Remember when you were assigned to show me around the school because I was new? That was the day I spilled my strawberry milk all over you. I felt so bad and kept apologizing but you insisted that it was actually your fault because you bumped into me. You even bought me a new one from the cafeteria. Instead of making me feel embarrassed or humiliated, you comforted me, saying that it was okay because you had been looking for an excuse to get a new jacket. To this day, no one has ever done something for me like that.”

Gunwook laughs and the smile you’ve come to love appears on his face. “I remember that day like it was yesterday. The entire time I was with you, I was so nervous. I mean how could I not be? You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Every time you smiled, my heart skipped a beat.”

“How come you never told me how you felt?”

“I don’t know. I guess I was scared. It’s a lot easier to stay quiet about it than have to deal with rejection.” Gunwook responds, sadness written all over his face.

“Who says I would’ve rejected you?” You say and smile for the first time that day.

#prkwook #zerobaseone imagines #zb1 x reader #gunwook x reader #park gunwook imagines #park gunwook x reader #zb1 imagines #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 fluff #zerobaseone #zb1 #park gunwook #gunwook #zb1 angst

[allthingsfangirl101]

Bathroom Confessions–Steve Harrington

Trigger Warning: Slight mention of attempted rape.

"These seats are too close!" I complained in a loud whisper.

"Dude, these seats blow!" Steve scoffed as he stuffed his face with popcorn. I reached over and grabbed a handful.

"Then don't watch the movie," Dustin sighed.

"We want to watch it," I shot back.

"Then watch it!"

"Shh!" Some guy behind us yelled. This led to the rest of us shushing him back.

"Whatever you do," Dustin said, softer this time, "don't. go. anywhere."

"Fine, Dad," Steve elongated. I giggled as I playfully punched Steve's arm. Dustin didn't think it was funny. He rolled his eyes and walked away. Steve and I calmed down and tried to watch the movie.

"I'm lost," I whispered. "What's happening?"

"I have no idea," Steve said, stuffing more popcorn into his mouth.

Ugh, Steve's mouth.

I wanted his mouth on my mouth. So badly. But, sadly, he'd never put his mouth on my mouth. He doesn't feel the same way about me as I feel about him.

I've been in love with my best friend since seventh grade after he stood up for me when Molly, Grace, and Louisa were bullying me during PE. I fell for him even more when he showed up on my doorstep after my date to the eighth-grade dance stood me up.

Sure, once we got to high school he started to pull away. He eventually came back. During sophomore year, I was staying after school to help tutor some kids.

One day, I was waiting for my mom to pick me up after a session and one of our football players tried to force himself on me. He dragged me to his car, threw me in the backseat, and tried to take advantage of me.

Steve was walking out of basketball practice and heard me screaming for help. He instantly started running toward the car. He pulled the football player off me and his anger took over. I had to pull Steve off of him before he went too far.

                              ~•~

"Steve! Stop!" I screamed as I scrambled out of the car. My legs were shaky and I fell to my knees. Me gasping in pain made Steve stop. He got off of the football player and ran to me.

"Are you alright?" He asked gently.

I smiled when he hesitated to touch me. Instead, I tucked into his chest. He instantly wrapped his arms around me.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I should've left the locker room sooner. I should've. . . I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," I whispered back. I leaned out of our embrace and looked up at him. "Besides, you got him off of me. You saved me, Steve."

He shrugged, trying to act as if it wasn't a big deal. We both knew it was.

"Can I ask for one more favor?"

"Anything," Steve said instantly. He cleared his throat, trying to recover. "What is it?"

"Will you take me home?"

                              ~•~

After that day, things changed. Steve went back to being the Steve I knew and fell in love with. He started rushing out of practice so he would be waiting on me to get out of my tutoring sessions. Once we were both done, he could give me a ride home.

A couple of weeks later, he found out that Tommy and Carol had been spreading the rumor that I had willingly gotten with that football player. As soon as Steve found out, he walked away from them.

I gasped, thrown back into the present when Steve gently put his hand on my arm, leaned over, and whispered, "You okay, Y/N?"

"I'm gonna barf."

Steve tossed the popcorn aside, grabbed my hand, and dragged me out of the theater. My stomach did multiple flips as Steve led me to the women's restroom. We burst through the door, dropping to our knees. We emptied our stomachs into the mall bathroom. When I was pretty sure my stomach was empty, I emptied it some more.

"How you feeling over there?" Steve asked between coughs.

"Probably about as good as you are," I sighed. I sat on my butt, sliding back until I hit the wall. I leaned my head against the cold bathroom wall and took a few breaths. "Do you think that crap is out of our systems?"

"I don't know," Steve sighed. "We could test it out."

"How?" I scoffed.

"Well, it was a truth serum, right? So, ask me a question."

I thought about it, knowing the question I was dying to ask him. This was my chance.

"Have you. . . ever been in love?"

"Yep," Steve said a little faster than I wish he had. "Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year."

My heart sank when he mimicked a gunshot. "She is such a priss," I tried to scoff like it didn't matter.

"Turns out, not really," he sighed.

"Are you still in love with Nancy?"

I felt like he hesitated but not that long. "No," he said.

"Why not?" I asked.

"I think it's because I found someone who's a little bit better for me. It's crazy. Ever since Dustin got home, he's been saying, "You know, you gotta find your Suzie. You gotta find your Suzie."

"Wait, who's Suzie?"

"It's some girl from camp," he sighed, "I guess his girlfriend. To be honest with you, I'm not 100% sure she's even real. But that's not–that's not really the point. That doesn't matter. The point is, this girl, you know, the one that I like, it's somebody that I. . . never would have expected. And I don't even know why. Maybe cause Tommy H. would've made fun of me or. . . I wouldn't be. . . prom king. It's stupid. I mean, Dustin's right, it's all just a bunch of bullshit anyways. Because, when I think about it, I should've been hanging out with this girl the whole time. First of all, she's hilarious. She's so funny. I feel like, this summer, I have laughed harder than I have laughed in a really long time. And she's smart. Way smarter than me. You know, she can crack, like, top secret Russian codes and. . . You know? She's honestly unlike anyone I've ever even met before."

I took a shaky breath as the tears streamed down my face.

"Y/N?" Steve spoke up. I sucked in a breath when he knocked on the stall between us.

I could hear the nervousness in his voice when he said, "Y/N, did you just OD in there?"

"No," I said shakily, "I am still alive."

My breath got caught in my throat when Steve suddenly started sliding under the stall. "The floor's disgusting," I tried to warn him.

"I don't care," he said as he sat up, leaning against the stall. He wiped his hands on his pants, before reaching over and gently draping his arm around my leg.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" He asked, squeezing my calf.

"Nothing," I said under my breath, looking away from him.

"Come on," he whispered. "Talk to me, Y/N."

"That girl you were talking about," I whispered, still not looking at him, "she's lucky a guy like you is into her."

"Yeah, she is," he sighed.

I took a shaky breath before asking, "Does she know how you feel?"

"I don't think so," he said. "I keep trying to tell her, but I can barely get the courage. As soon as I get it, she walks in with her beautiful smile and her angelic voice. The minute she walks into the room, I forget what I was going to say and my courage turns into butterflies."

"Sounds like you're really in love with her," I whispered. Steve let go of my leg and wrapped his arms around his knees. He leaned forward and smiled at me.

"I am," he whispered. "I am extremely, desperately, stupidly in love with this girl."

I copied his position and leaned my chin on my knees. I tried to stop the tears but it was useless.

"She is a really lucky girl, Steve," I said, my voice breaking. "You should tell her so she knows."

"I just did."

I snapped my head up and looked at him with wide eyes. I studied him, trying to figure out what he meant. He just smiled as he watched my wheels turn. He slowly scooted closer to me as he whispered.

"How did you not know?" He teased. "I thought I made it obvious when I protected you from Grace, Molly, and Louisa. Or when I took you to our eighth-grade dance after Mikey stood you up. Or how I left Tommy and Carol to start hanging out with you more. Or when I pulled Eric off of you and beat him until I broke every bone in both of my hands. Or how every day I do whatever it takes to protect you."

I held my breath as Steve was now inches from me. He dropped his voice even lower, "How did you not know?"

Steve leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. I was too shocked to respond. I snapped out of it and instantly started kissing him back. Our lips moved in sync as we got as close to each other as we could.

Steve reached up and gently cupped my cheek in his hand as our lips moved messily in sync. I broke the kiss and leaned my forehead against his.

"I love you too, Steve," I whispered. "I am extremely, desperately, stupidly in love with you."

He let out a small chuckle as he pressed his lips back to mine. As our lips started moving faster than our first kiss, Steve grabbed my hips and brought me over to him. I straddled his lap, reached up, and began running my fingers through his hair.

Steve broke the kiss and smiled up at me. He reached over and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering. He gently rubbed my cheek with his thumb.

"I don't want to forget this," I whispered.

"You won't," Steve said instantly. "And if you do, I'll remind you."

I got off his lap and sat next to him. I sighed as I leaned my head on his shoulder. I felt my stomach flip when he leaned his head on mine.

Neither one of us spoke as we sat in silence, listening to each other's breathing. We looked over when the door was roughly pushed open.

"Okay," Dustin sighed angrily. "What the hell?"

"Dustin!" I giggled.

"Henderson!" Steve yelled.

"You found us! Now you hide and we'll count. 1. . . . 2. . . 3. . . Hey! You're not hiding! That's cheating."

"Wait, what?" Dustin stuttered. "What's wrong with you guys?"

"When I say 'Dustin', you say 'Henderson'!" Steve laughed loudly.

"Can we go?!" Erica yelled. Dustin and Erica turned around and left the bathroom. I sighed as I stood up and brushed off my disgusting uniform.

"Hey," Steve grabbed my hand before we could leave the bathroom.

"Everything okay?" I asked as he pulled me into his chest. He leaned down and pressed his lips softly to mine. Before I could kiss him back, he broke away.

"It doesn't matter how much drugs those Russians gave us," Steve whispered, "I don't think I will ever forget our bathroom confessions."

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #joe keery #joe keery imagines #joe keery x reader

[dearlyjoonie]

New Books | KNJ

Pairing: booklover!namjoon x bookshop worker!reader

Genre: college au / non-idol au / romance / strangers to lovers / fluff

Warnings: fluff, meet-cute, first date, they're both book nerds, both are obsessed with each other actually (!!!), possible book spoilers kinda??

Word count: 2k

Synopsis: you catch feelings for a customer at the bookstore <3

author's note!: my first one-shot! i have been so unsure about writing one-shots, but i thought i'd give it my best shot. this was more or less just writing practice for me, but i honestly got this idea because it's something that i have always wanted to happen to me LOL (meeting a cute boy at a bookstore?!? c'mon!! a girl can dream...). i included some of joonie's favorite books in this... iykyk. i was also inspired by this specific prompt i saw. i honestly love these characters so much, im already attached to them lol cause wtf!! they are so adorable. i aplologize if the ending seems a bit rushed, i was trying to avoid a high word count and just cut to the chase. also, what is my thing with writing bookish characters? anyway, i hope you enjoy & as always feedback is appreciated! 💗

The time is nearing 8pm, and you’re anxiously awaiting for your shift at the bookstore to be over so you can get back to your dorm and work on some homework. You picked up a part-time job at the bookstore at your university for the chance to make some extra money while still attending school.

“You doing anything tonight?” Your coworker asks you, while the two of you clean up and get ready to close the registers.

You nod, then reply with a chuckle. “Yeah, studying.”

It was pretty much all you did most of the time. Afterall, being a law-student wasn’t exactly easy.

“Again?” She sighs, as she straightens up a display in front of the register. “You did that last night too.”

“Sorry,” You laugh. “I can’t help it that I always have homework. It’s kinda part of you know… school. You’d know that if you didn’t skip multiple times a week.” You retort.

She rolls her eyes and laughs, then goes to say something back but is cut off when the door opens and a customer enters. You both turn to watch as the boy enters and starts to browse the shelves, seemingly unaware that the store is closing soon.

“Ugh seriously…” She sighs, irritated. “Who comes in a half-hour before closing to shop around?”

“Maybe he doesn’t know.” You shrug.

“It’s posted right on the door,” She replies. “He obviously just refused to read it.”

“Relax,” You chuckle, as you make to leave from behind the register. “I’ll see if I can get him to leave.”

You walk the aisles, trying to find him, before you spot him in the classics section.

“Just so you know,” You announce as you approach him. “We close in 30 minutes.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” He apologizes, even though he doesn’t have to. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

He turns to face you, which allows you to get a better look at him. 

Shit. He’s cute.

He’s dressed casually — jeans and a sweatshirt, which is similar to probably what you’d be wearing if you weren’t working, but he just looks effortlessly attractive, along with his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose and book bag slung over his shoulder. 

Your eyes drop to the books he has in his hand, and you recognize some familiar books you’ve read before as well.

“You have good taste.” You smirk as you nod towards the stack of books in his hand.

His gaze follows, and he suddenly appears shy that you noticed his book choices.

“I’ve read this one before,” He states as he lifts up the copy of 1984 that he had in his hand. “I liked it a lot but I never actually owned a copy of it. Funny isn’t it?” He smiles.

He has dimples.

“I never liked that one that much, if I’m being honest. I can’t say I’m that much of a fan of Orwell’s work.” You smile. “I always preferred Jane Austen or Louisa May Alcott. But either way, if I liked the book or not, I always thought that the classics deserved to be read.”

You pause with a laugh.

“That is, of course if I don’t get bored one chapter in.”

He smiles at your humor.

“What else have you read?” He asks, as he seems interested now in your taste in books.

“Well, lately all I have been reading is romance, so I doubt you’d be interested in that.” You laugh. “But, recently I read The Alchemist, I thought that one was pretty good.”

“Oh really?” His expression lights up. “My roommate loves that book, it’s his favorite.”

You smile back at him.

“I’ve been in here quite a few times, I’ve never seen you before.” He adds.

“I just started working here a few months ago,” You say. “I just work here a couple days for some extra money while I go to school, and I read a lot of books; so it’s fun for me.” He nods.

“Probably not good though, considering I just spend more and more money on books.” You both laugh.

“I better get going,” He checks his watch, realizing the time. “…Before you kick me out. I swear, I would’ve been here earlier, but my class ran late so I didn’t get a chance to.”

“Don’t worry about it, you’re just cutting into my big night of studying, that’s all.” You sarcastically remark.

You watch him as he suddenly sets the books he once had in his hands, back down on the shelf.

“I thought you wanted to buy those?” You eye him, confused.

“No, I’ll come back,” He smirks as he adjusts his book bag over his shoulder. “Gives me another excuse to, anyway.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“Hey,” You greet your coworker with a smile as you come in for your shift. You shove your bag and iced coffee behind the counter, having just come from class. “How’s it been today?”

“Not too busy, I’ve just spent most of the time stocking,” She says as she straightens up, trying to look busy, making you chuckle at her.

“He’s here again, by the way.”

“Who?” You’re confused, at first you don’t know who she’s talking about.

“The guy from last night. He came in again.” She continues, as you suddenly feel excitement wash over you. She smirks at you as she realizes.

“Y/n, what happened with the two of you last night?”

You shake your head, even though there’s no denying the blush that forms on your cheeks.

“Nothing, we just talked. But he was cute. and we have similar taste in books.”

“I think he’s still here, he came in not long before you.” She says. “Go find him and talk to him.” She urges you on.

“I don’t even know his name!” You say, then laugh. “What am I going to even say?”

“Don’t think about it so hard, just go!” She smiles, then jokingly shoves you away.

You start making your way down one of the aisles, the you turn the corner to enter the next one over when you’re stopped short & bump into somebody.

A small pile of books fall to the floor, and you immediately bend down to pick them up for the poor person you just collided with.

“I’m so sorry!” You apologize, then nervously laugh. “That’s my own fault for walking too fast. I wasn’t looking.” 

“That’s okay,” The person chuckles, now bending down across from you to help you. “It’s not too often that I’m not the clumsy one.”

That voice.

You look up at the person in front of you and realize you do recognize that voice, it’s the boy from last night. 

He looks just as good as he did last night, only this time he’s not wearing his glasses.

“I was hoping you’d be here, I didn’t see you when I came in.”

“Yeah, I can make quite the appearance can’t I,” You laugh, handing him the books you gathered off the floor. “I was hoping to properly introduce myself but it looks like that isn’t happening. I’m y/n." You introduce yourself.

“Namjoon,” He smiles, then he appears shy as he hesitates to ask you the next question. “Listen…I was wondering maybe if you wanted to do something later? I’d like to talk to you more, hopefully when you’re not working.” He laughs slightly.

You nod and keep your composure even though you literally feel like your heart is going to pound out of your chest any second.

Oh my god. Oh my god. 

“Yeah, I would like that. I get off at 7.” You reply. “I’ll see if my friend can close up for me.” 

Namjoon nods, “I’ll come back here around 7 to pick you up. You like coffee?”

“Love it.”

“Perfect,” Namjoon smiles at you. “I’ll see you later.” 

You wave goodbye to him and immediately leave to find your coworker and tell her you had to leave a little early, and you find her stocking a shelf.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…” You say aloud as you make your way over to her.

“What happened?” She asks, shoving a small stack of books on a shelf.

“He just asked me out tonight,” You’re beaming, “I can’t believe it.”

“Y/n!” She turns to face you. “You’re supposed to close with me, did you forget?”

“Yeah… about that… would you be able to do it alone tonight? It’s only 1 hour.” 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” She shrugs you off. “You know me, I can handle it.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

It’s exactly 7 o’clock when Namjoon comes back to the bookstore, and you’re practically at the door waiting for him when he arrives.

“You ready to go?” Namjoon asks when he enters, and he laughs when he notices that you were pacing by the door.

“Yeah, let me grab my things.” You reply, then briefly walk away to grab your purse.

“Have fun,” Your coworker says to you as you go behind the counter to grab your bag. “I want all the details when you get back.” She smirks.

You roll your eyes and laugh.

“Of course.” You sarcastically reply. “If you need help with anything tonight just text me, I’ll try to be of help as best as I can.” 

“I’ll be fine!” She insists. “Just don’t bore him to death and talk about just books, okay?” 

“Shut up!” You smile. “Bye.” 

You leave her and go back over to Namjoon, who is patiently waiting for you.

“Where are we going?” You ask him as he opens the door for you to exit first, and he follows behind you.

“There’s a coffee shop not far down the street,” He replies. “We can just walk there, it’s just a few minutes.”

You arrive at the coffee shop, taking your seats at a table seated by the window, a spot Namjoon claimed to be his favorite.

“I’ll order our drinks,” Namjoon says, as he pulls out your chair for you to allow you to sit down. 

What a gentleman.

“What do you like to drink?”

“Iced americano is my favorite.” You reply.

He smiles. “I’ll be right back.”

Namjoon comes back minutes later, both drinks in his hands and sets them down on the table, taking a seat across from you at your table.

You don’t see him watching you at first because you're momentarily rummaging through your bag to find your chapstick that seems to get lost in there. You glance up to notice him.

“Thank you,” You nod towards the iced americano he placed in front of you, then laugh. “Sorry I was looking for my stupid chapstick, everything seems to get lost in here. It doesn't help that I carry so much shit with me at all times.” You open your bag to him, so he can see it’s full, but his eyes zero in on something else.

“You carry a book with you everywhere?” Namjoon questions, curious.

“Yeah,” You laugh despite yourself, taking it out of your bag. “Normally I just have it to read to kill some time between classes or when work is slow.”

“You figured there’d be lot’s of down time for some reading tonight?” Namjoon jokes, then takes the book out of your hand to get a better look at it.

“I’ve read this one before.” He examines the cover.

“You’ve read Me Before You?” You ask him. “I’m kind of surprised.”

“Why?” Namjoon asks, confused, brows furrowed as he takes a sip of his coffee.

“I just didn’t think that guys read books like these, it's pretty romance-y if you ask me,” you continue. “A girl getting a job as a sort of ‘caretaker’ to show a quadriplegic that despite his handicap that life is still worth living when he doesn’t believe it to be, then she falls in love with him? Sorry, I just don’t see guys enjoying that type of book.” You smirk.

“In my defense, it’s considered fiction, not romance.” Namjoon laughs.

The evening progresses, and eventually you both decide to call it a night... especially considering you had an 8am class the next morning.

"Let me walk you to your car." Namjoon says, as the two of you exit the coffee shop.

"Joon, it's like ten feet from here." You laugh.

He smiles. It's your first date and you're already using a nickname for him. Something tells him this won't be the last time that he sees you.

"No I want to, c'mon." Namjoon insists, as he grabs your hand.

After whats about a 10 foot walk, you arrive at your car, your hands still interlocked together.

"I had fun tonight," You tell him, smiling at him. "Are you going to come by the store tomorrow? I'm working after class."

He nods, smiling back at you as his dimples appear.

"Yeah, I think I will."

He glances down for a moment at your hand, and chuckles a bit to himself when he realizes that you've started to fidget with his fingers that still remain in your grasp.

He looks back up at you, your eyes meeting again.

"I would very much like to kiss you." Namjoon blatantly states, his gaze falling to your lips briefly.

You nod. "Please."

It's the only word you can manage to get out before he's gripping you by your waist and pulling you closer to him, and his soft lips are on yours as he kisses you tentatively at first, but deepens once he feels your hand on his cheek, then your fingers threading through his long hair at the nape of his neck.

He pulls away, your faces still close to one another, and you're left nearly breathless, your heart beating so hard you're sure he can hear it.

"Goodnight y/n," Namjoon says, smiling again. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

You nod. "Okay."

You notice him still smiling as he starts to leave, and you're left standing at your car, looking probably like a total idiot, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Tags: @souryoong @gutchy @whoisbts @dearlyjun @moretwice @0anodite0 @jooniescaffe @annamsworldx

#bts fanfiction #bts namjoon #bts x reader #kim namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff

[dotster001]

Found Chapter Two

Requested by @somany-fandoms-solittle-time

Summary:Lilia x gn!reader. Now that you've been reunited, Lilia is forced to remember how hard it is to care for you. But he's not the only one starting to remember....

A/N: hopefully y'all enjoy this, cause I have a whole series idea for this 😁

3k celebration masterlist

Part One

You were dreaming.  You were the maid to a queen, and you were watching what looked like a court case.

"You're nothing more than a tyrant!"

You and your fellow maids all stiffened and murmured amongst yourselves. This stranger from who knows where dared to speak to your queen that way? Didn't she know how dangerous that was? People were beheaded for less in this kingdom!

The queen's face turned beat red as she prepared to issue a sentence, and a loud one at that.

Before you could hear it, you were hit with a dizzy spell, and sharp pain in your stomach.

"Louisa," the maid next to you looked concerned, "do you need to sit down? Did you take your potion today?"

"I'm fine," you groaned, but still felt yourself smile.

"OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!"

All the maids nodded. This was the expected verdict.

You looked down at your ring with the fuchsia gem, and smiled through the stomach pain. Everything would be alright.

….

Lilia couldn't keep his eyes off you. He was so happy you were here and alive, but damn, he was so nervous you'd vanish.

It wasn't too long before he caught the whole story. That you were from another planet or dimension and just…showed up. He supposed it made sense why he hadn't seen you in so long. You were somewhere outside of his reach. He could only imagine how lonely it had been. If it was anything like what he'd gone through, it was a horribly painful existence. Going lifetime to lifetime without the man you'd bonded your soul too. His heart broke thinking about it.

"Father? Is everything alright?"

He was snapped out of his thoughts by Silver's concerned whisper. He'd been staring at you again.

"Mm. Yes, I'm alright," he took a bite of his lunch to prove it, which did little to assuage his sweet boy, but he still nodded and looked at his own lunch.

"That's Diasomnia," he heard from Trey Clover, who had been telling you all about the other dorms.

He rattled off a couple more insignificant facts about the thorn fairy, some of them incorrect, much to Lilia's amusement.

Then he saw the red headed freshman playfully bump shoulders with you.

"I gotta take care of something," he said to his lunch table, before poofing over to yours.

"Were you talking about me?" He giggled as you shrieked at his upside down form that had materialized between the two of you.

You took a moment to catch your bearings.

"What the actual fuck," you breathed.

"I heard you talking about Diasomnia, and me, and my young Lord so I thought I'd join the fun."

"You heard all that?" The red headed freshman asked incredulously.

Lilia turned to him, feeling the joy drain from his eyes, that is, until the freshman shivered. Then Lilia had some sick glee return to him

The conversation continued casually, you pretty silent for most of it, Eventually, he figured continuing the conversation with you would do nothing. At least with an audience. He had a whole year, probably longer, considering the headmage was useless. He had time to reconnect with you.

After popping back to his own table, grinning like a lovesick fool, he was met with Silver and Sebek's concerned gazes.

"What? It's fun to prank the freshman, fu fu fu!" He laughed. They both shared a glance before shrugging and continuing dinner in peace. 

….

"Did you hear? Housewarden Rosehearts overblotted."

The murmurs were all over the school, and Lilia wanted to kick himself. Of course you'd get into trouble. You always did. Even in a world where the mortality rate was so low, you somehow were so hard to keep alive! 

"Sevens, Y/N, why is it so hard to hold onto you?" He whispered to himself, as he watched you wander the school with your two freshmen friends.

He didn't have time to think too hard about it before,

"Lilia!"

"Fa-Lilia! Lord Malleus is-"

"SILVER HAS ALLOWED OUR LORD TO GO MISSING AGAIN!"

He sighed inwardly, before throwing a final glance your way. If you ever did remember your past lives, he would definitely ask if this is what you wanted when you both talked about the family you were going to start. Not that he'd trade it for anything, but it felt unfair that you were getting out of all the hard work.

….

"Their next target is Malleus Draconia."

Malleus had a tendency to never actually be informed about housewarden things, but the one time someone actually came looking for him, Lilia selfishly decided to take the meeting himself.

Only to be told that his boy was likely to be the target of the Savannaclaw Housewarden at tomorrow's event.

"That's a rather large accusation, prefect."

Of course he believed you. But he wanted to hear your voice again. Keep you talking to him. Keep your eyes on him. He simultaneously felt like dirt, but also like the happiest man to ever exist.

"But it's true!" You cried. "He's been taking people down with his signature spell for weeks now."

Lilia leaned back, pretending to think. Not that the thorn fairy's general had to actually think twice about that. He just…needed to stare at you for a moment.

"I have an idea," he muttered. "That is, if you're willing to listen."

You nodded, and he did his best to hold back a grin.

….

"Pearce." His voice whispered in the darkness.

After months of taking the night shift to guard him, you'd learned to pick up his emotions from his voice, and the shimmer of his glowing pink eyes. This was a new one though. If you had to guess, it was a mix between desperation and fear. 

"Evening," you said, trying not to let this deter you.

"Pearce."

"What's wrong?" You said, giving into morbid curiosity.

"Run away with me."

You stiffened.

"Li-"

You heard shifting, and his hands were cupping your face, his face slightly more illuminated, but features still obscured.

"How long have you been able to-"

"These ropes could never hold me. Pearce, run away with me. The queen's army is coming to the castle. If I'm there to let them in, great. If I'm not, they'll just double their forces. They're all going to die either way. But at least we could-"

You cupped his cheeks and softly kissed him. He stiffened before returning the kiss. Softly. Tenderly.

You separated and pressed your forehead to his, closing your eyes so that you couldn't see the heartbreak in his.

"I can't."

"Don't say that," you heard him choke on his words, as he clutched your face harder.

"You have a duty to your people, I have one to mine. I swore to protect my king. And if I have to die to fulfill my oath-"

"Stop."

"-then I'll die happy."

"Y/N! Wake up!"

You groaned as Grim slapped your face with his soft paws. 

"What? What time is it?"

"We gotta help those Diasomnia guys, remember?"

"Right," you sat up and rubbed your eyes blearily. 

On top of the already weird dreams about lions, now you were having some weird fantasy tragedy dream. Although, that story sounded interesting. If you remembered the dream later, you'd have to write it down and write a book or something.

"Why would they want to go over the plan so early in the day?" You groaned again

….

"Malleus Draconia is twice the king you will ever be!"

"Lilia, shut up," he heard you whisper. Of course it would be your voice snapping him back to reality. He'd lived a long time, but he'd only ever witnessed one overblot. If the ink rising in the air was anything to go by, Kingscholar was about to be the second one he witnessed.

Why did he just say that? Was it because of his love for his adopted son? His anger at the injustices done on the students? The need to show off so you could see how cool he was?

"Vanrouge!" Housewarden Rosehearts snapped. "Go get the headmage."

He watched Riddle pull his pen. He should really stay. This was partially his fault. And it was so damn hard to keep you alive…

"Lilia, please, we need backup," you pleaded. Sevens, those eyes. He'd kill for those eyes.

He nodded and poofed away, praying he was back fast enough to ensure you stayed alive.

….

He was always terrified when he saw you sleeping, no matter what life time it was. He'd seen you stop breathing far too many times, so it was always the first thing he looked for; the tell tale slow filling of your lungs.

Of course it hadn't been the overblot that had put you here. It would be something as simple as a disc to the head.

"Enjoying the view?" You croaked as you slowly woke up, causing him to snicker.

"I wanted to apologize, but you were preoccupied."

"Is preoccupied the medical term for a concussion?" You winced.

He laughed, a boisterous laugh that he hadn't released for several generations.

When he'd calmed himself momentarily, you sat up a bit, and gave him a soft smile.

"You don't need to apologize. I get it, you were upset that he was insulting your friend."

Friend? He could burst into a fit of laughter all over again. He supposed, you did believe he was a normal college student, so friend would be the accurate word for him and Malleus. Normally.

"Uh, yeah," he said, fighting back another laugh. "Still, I swear I'm far more intelligent than that normally."

He was really trying so hard to dig himself out of this hole.

"It's college. You're allowed to be a dumbass from time to time."

He bit his lip as he nodded. Was it truly unethical to just tell you everything? To just tell you you were supposed to be with him because you always used to be? To tell you that he was far older than anyone you'd ever met? That you were far older?

It would be unethical.  You had to make your own choices, unimpaired by him. He just had to have faith that you'd choose him. He had no reason to believe otherwise! You'd always chosen him before.

Why should it be different this time around?

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge

[portraitofariel]

I came across this brilliant post and it reminded me of a dream I had a while ago about the show’s future. In my dream, Carmy eventually got back together with Claire out of loneliness and a last ditch effort to make it work because he’s too broken to go after Sydney but the relationship falls apart again. The Grand Opening is a success but not enough to generate long term interest that covers overhead, and by the end of the year, The Bear runs out of money. Cicero reluctantly calls it quits, as he can’t keep loaning them money, and there’s also internal problems. The death of Marcus’ mother is so devastating that he steps down to be with his family, Nat has a difficult birth which leaves her out of commission and motherhood is exhausting.

Carmy and Sydney don’t resolve their issues but the flame within keeps going, yet they both run from their feelings even after The Bear closes. In desperate need of a life change, Carm applies to some art schools and actually gets accepted to one in Florence, Italy. Alone and more broken than ever before, he quickly starts a new life in a foreign county—mirroring his choice to leave home for Denmark. The one exception being he doesn’t tell anyone where he is; he occasionally checks in with Sugar but only tells her he’s “somewhere safe” and “not to worry about him”.

Sydney finds herself at a crossroads. She poured everything she had into The Bear and now that’s gone, she goes through a bout of depression. She still loves to cook but her drive wains, leaving her to question what’s next for her. She considers her other passions: writing, sewing, textiles, management—and after a few months of going through the motions, she thinks about maybe stepping away from cooking as well. Emmanuel supports this idea as well and encourages her to try something new, even if it’s just for a little while. He also reiterates that she didn’t fail at The Bear and that she created something truly special, even if only for a while.

Months go by and still not a word from Carmy. She talks to Nat often, even spends time with the baby, but she stopped asking about Carm months ago. She tries to pretend his disappearance doesn’t hurt but she misses him more each day. Why, she doesn’t care to know anymore. He made his choice and now she needs to make her own.

One night while having dinner with Nat and Pete, they talk about plans for the future. Nat tells Syd she remembers that navy sweater with the hand stitched embroidery at the collar and on the sleeve (2x02 ‘SYD’ sweater with green stitching). Syd mentions her love of patterns and fabrics, and she tells them she’s been hand-sewing since middle school. She always liked bespoke items and she wishes she would’ve done more with that particular skill. This segues into a conversation about how Carmy was the one who wasn’t afraid to follow his dreams when he went to Copenhagen and Nat wagers that’s probably where he is now, or back in New York.

Syd shrugs and changes the subject to travel, stating she thought about going back to New York but says it’s not far enough (Sug’s comment about Carmy possibly being there discourages her from going). Nat lightens the mood with a joke, “I don’t think a single Berzatto has been to Italy. Pete and I have always wanted to but with Benny (Benicio—their infant son), its not gonna happen any time soon”. Syd tells she went to Paris once with her dad for her 21st birthday, but always wishes they would’ve taken the train to Milan. The culture, food, fashion, and architecture resonate with her and she always wanted to experience it firsthand. Pete chimes in “You know, there’s a fashion school there: Polimoda. My brother and his girlfriend, Louisa—they live in Florence and she goes there. I can talk to Chris (his brother) and have him email you or something. He’s a nice guy.”

Syd rebuffs the idea at first, thanking him but telling him she’s not sure she’s the “fashionista type” (air-quoting with her fingers). Then Nat interjects “Oh please! Syd, you such a unique style and perspective. You might be surprised just how much you enioy stepping away from the kitchen for a while.”

“Let’s say I entertain the idea. Nat, how would I even pay for this? I mean, yeah I’ve saved up here and there but come on, Florence? I don’t see how I could afford classes and what about housing? It’s a fever dream if I’ve ever heard one.”

“Maybe you could stay with Chris and Louisa. They have a gorgeous house, they send us pictures all the time. Look-” Pete jumps up to get his laptop and shows her the photos.

Now Sydney knows she’s lost, or is drunk, if she’s considering living with strangers in a foreign country. As the night goes on, Pete reaches out to his brother and Syd finds herself dreaming of Italy after they take her home.

Two days later she gets an email from Chris and she can’t believe he contacted her. Over the next week they Skype and discuss how this would work and if she’s a good fit. Chris and Louisa say they heard amazing things about her and her work at The Bear, and they’d love to have her. She’s overwhelmed with emotion that she’s really thinking about going and after she talks to her dad, he’s cautious but amendable. He tells her she has to decide for herself what’s best and that he trusts her to make good choices, especially after her short success at The Bear. But he also tells her not to rush or pour everything into yet another venture.

But truthfully she wants to get away, and forget about how the restaurant for a while. And so after much deliberation, she decides to do it. She figures she’ll get a job cooking part-time to supplement her expenses but focus on being more than a chef. She wants to enjoy herself for once; to live for more than trying to make everything a thing.

A month later she lands in Florence and some time later while out to dinner with Louisa, she nearly passes out when she and Carmy spot each other that night.

#charged and sexy #platonic and messy #carmy x sydney #chefs kiss #syd adamu #sydcarmy #the bear #the bear hulu #you with the dark curls #you with the watercolor eyes #wet hot and sweet #carmy the bear #syd x carmy #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear fx #sydney adamu

[pedroshotwifey]

Christmas Countdown Day 21 - Christmas Movies

What to Watch

Pairing: Husband!Marcus Pike x Pregnant!Wife!Reader

Word count: 863

Tags/Warnings: no warnings, just fluff! no use of y/n or reader description other than her being preggo, sweet nicknames, sweet feels, reader and Marcus have two kids, good dad marcus pike, stuff im forgetting

Summary: Marcus never fails to save the day

A/N: This is a cute one! I love the family dynamic when it comes to Pedro characters. Maybe it stems from the fact that I want to give him ten kids. Hope you enjoy this Christmasy fluff!

***

You’ve been trying to get a movie started for half an hour now. 

It’s a Friday night—family movie night. It’s the last Friday before Christmas, so everyone’s decided to watch a holiday movie. Unfortunately, Marcus is running late, and neither of your children can agree on something to watch. 

“Honey,” you start, trying to reason with your daughter. “How about we watch Thomas’s movie tonight, and then tomorrow, we’ll watch another?” 

Louisa crosses her arms as she pouts, looking absolutely pissed for a seven year old. 

“But Mama, I want to watch my mov–”

“I want the train!” Thomas interrupts her whinilly. You sigh, watching as your four year old’s outburst causes another round of bickering. 

Frankly, even though your daughter is dead-set on watching Barbie in the Nutcracker, you agree that it sounds better than The Polar Express. It may be a classic, but it’s always creeped you out. 

Your strategy right now though is to try to convince your daughter to do the ‘big sister thing’ and let her younger brother have his way just for tonight. 

“Alright, guys,” you say gently after a moment, attempting to slow their arguing. You have no idea what to do to convince either one of them at this point. “How abou—”

Just then, the door opens, and your entire body sags with relief. It’s almost comedic, the way you hadn’t realized you’d been so tense. 

“Daddy!” the kids yell in unison, already making a dash for the front door. Despite your stress, you smile as you hear an ‘oof’ that must be from Marcus getting pounced on by two children. 

You come in a few seconds after them, one hand balanced on your protruding stomach as you lean against the doorway. Marcus has already dropped his work things to kneel down and embrace his kids. 

“Hello my angels, have you been good for your mother today?” He glances up at you with a knowing look, having heard all about their behavior today over text. They’ve been rowdy since they got off school for Christmas break, but you can’t blame them. 

You’ll admit that you love how exciting this time of year is for them, even if it means they’re a bit naughty. The magic won’t last forever, afterall. 

You bite your lip to conceal a laugh as Thomas and Lou give each other a knowing look of their own. At least they can agree on something. Marcus hms thoughtfully as he starts to stand. 

“Let me give your mother a kiss, and then we can talk about what to watch,” he says, rubbing both of their heads. 

You smile and take a step toward your husband to wrap your arms around him. He grabs your hips gently as he gives you a soft kiss. 

“You’re doing so good, Momma,” he says just loud enough for you to hear. “Why don’t you let me deal with this while you go sit down for a minute.” 

You smile at him gratefully, breathing in his scent as he embraces you. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, planting a kiss on his cheek before pulling away to track back into the living room. 

As you sit, you close your eyes and focus on Marcus talking to your children. He’s such a good dad, you have no idea how he does it. 

It’s not long before the three of them are trailing in behind you, the kids snuggling up with you as Marcus takes The Polar Express out of its case and puts it into the DVD player. 

He gets it set up and presses play before toeing his shoes off and sliding behind you on the couch, near the armrest. He gently tugs you back so that you’re tucked comfortably against him, the children resting on you as you stroke Lou’s hair and Thomas’s back. 

Marcus slides his arms around you, linking his hands above your belly and slightly under your swollen breasts to alleviate some pressure. You sigh, relaxing further into him. 

You tilt your head back slightly as the movie begins, giving Marcus a lingering kiss. 

“How did you do it?” you whisper with a slight giggle. You feel him shrug behind you. 

“Just told them we would watch both movies tonight.”

You shake your head and huff a laugh through your nose. You both know neither of them have the energy to even stay up for the duration of one. 

Thomas is already snoring within about ten minutes, and Lou is well on her way. Halfway through the movie, Marcus carefully gets up and carries them individually to their rooms. 

“Poor guys are exhausted,” he laughs, dipping down to slot your lips against yours again. You chuckle in agreement. It’s been a long day of bickering. 

You’re about to open your mouth to speak when Marcus scoops you up just like he had your children, making you squeal as quietly as you can as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

He carries you bridal style to your room and lays you down on the bed before getting in next to you. Tucked within his loving embrace, you’re out like a light quicker than the kids were.

***

Please consider interacting if you enjoyed this fic! Lmk if u would like to join the countdown taglist <3

FOTJC: @arcanefox207 @redhotkitchen @magpiepills @exquisiteserotonin @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @secretelephanttattoo @morallyinept @beskarandblasters @tightjeansjavi @theywhowriteandknowthings @nerdieforpedro @maggiemayhemnj @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @ghostofaboy @joels-shitty-puns @elvinaa

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Link to prompt list

#pedro pascal #fan fiction #ao3 #fluff #pedro pascal fluff #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #wifeys christmas countdown #christmas #friends of the juice collective

[kindred-sims]

Starting out, Carrie hadn't hated spending time at the bonfire so much. In the beginning, everyone had spent time gathered around it, chatting and cracking up like there was nothing to it.

Then, as the night went on, every one had started to break off into groups, or pairs, even.

And much to Carrie's chagrin, she had ended up next to Clyde.

He'd made efforts to keep talking to her, had kept on with his typical blushing and stammering, so much so that it was taking everything in Carrie to not combust in a loud scream. His attitude had always bothered her before, but ever since Louisa had mentioned the possibility of Clyde's true intentions, her grievances had just been amplified further.

She shouldn't hate it...should she? Lots of girls in school were being courted now, boys who'd used to be friends with them now gave them flowers and compliments, kisses on the cheek, would hold their hand as they walked together. Carrie knew she should be flattered at the idea of maybe getting to receive those things from Clyde, but...she wasn't.

She just wasn't. And she had no idea why.

Wishing for a distraction, she'd let her attentions drift elsewhere, trying her best to block out Clyde's constant chatter. A familiar, melodic laugh turned her gaze to where Genie was standing nearby, caught up in a conversation with the Jackson twins.

It made her feel strangely jealous, and not for the reasons one might think. On the one hand, both Jacksons were from a very well to do family and were both regarded as two of the most handsome boys in school, any girl would love to have their attention.

But on the other hand...

The girl they were giving attention to was Genie. And Carrie didn't think she liked that. That they were getting to talk to her, and she wasn't. She wanted to, oh, she wanted to talk to her so badly. To be standing in front of her, next to her, anywhere so long as it wasn't next to Clyde. Anything to hear more of that lovely laugh, to look at her bright smile and soft brown eyes.

That was all she wanted right now, and it was nearly driving her mad that she couldn't have it.

When the time came to depart for the night, Carrie was incredibly thankful for it. She'd hoped to catch up with Genie and walk with her, but Clyde had gotten to her first, asking if he might see her home.

Though she dreaded what might come of it, she said that he may.

Things had actually been normal enough, for a moment. Clyde hadn't been blushing or stammering so much, and Carrie found that she could actually tolerate his company for the first time tonight.

Of course, that didn't last very long. Clyde had come to a stop, and was facing her, his blush back and a smile on his face.

"Carrie...if I may, there's something that I've been meaning to tell you..." He began, and Carrie could already feel her heart dropping.

"We're um...as you know, we're both sixteen now," he started. "And...well, I've been talking to your papa, and I've told him my intentions, how I feel about you...and uh, I've asked for his blessing to court you."

"Clyde--"

"Its all I've ever wanted for so long, you can't even imagine how relieved I was when he said yes," Clyde kept on, all while Carrie continued to feel herself sink further and further. "I love you, Carrie, you're the prettiest, smartest girl I've ever known, and I want nothing more than to have you by my side--"

"Clyde, stop!"

Carrie shrieked before she could stop herself, feeling a pang of guilt at the look of shock in Clyde's expression.

"Clyde...I'm sorry, but...I don't...I can't..."

"Wait, Carrie, just--hold on now, you don't have to decide right away, I'll give you time," Clyde had already begun to plead, desperation heavy in his voice. "Anything you need, please Carrie--"

"Its not that! I just...you've always been a good friend to me, Clyde. But...that's it. I'm so sorry, I just can't..."

"Carrie...Carrie, wait--"

He was pleading now, but Carrie had already begun to walk away. Without another word, another glance, she kept on the lonely path toward home, not stopping until she'd stepped through the front door.

Not too surprisingly, she found her parents still up and waiting for her, but it was their eager, expectant expressions that made the awfulness she felt nearly swallow her whole.

"Well, dear? How was your night?" Jo had asked first.

"Clyde was a perfect gentleman, I would hope," Caleb added, a knowing look in his eyes. Carrie felt her stomach twist into knots, barely able to look either her mother or father in the eye, and only answered with a quiet nod before she walked upstairs.

#bit of a long post this one #sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 historical #ts4 history #decades challenge #wakefield legacy #1890s

[milf-harrington]

my Steve's Older Sister headcanons

her name is Louisa Jean Harrington, Steve calls her 'Lou' (she calls him 'Eve')

she's 4 years older than him

the original family disappointment

after she graduated, she moved to Indy for a year before moving to New York for college

she attends Julliard for classical music, it's the only thing keeping her in their parents will (she plays the cello)

she left Steve a "guide to life" when she moved out of Hawkins, but he didn't read it until 1983, when life suddenly became a lot harder to navigate

she's the one who taught him how to look after + style his hair

she played basketball too, but not at school because their parents wouldn't let her

her boyfriend in highschool cheated on her so she broke into his house and stole his varsity jacket

she would have been a senior when Eddie was a freshman (i'm pretty sure i worked that out right, the way the american school year is set out confuses me)

speaks italian bc she's closer to that side of their family than steve

she can cook

she heard about the things that happened to steve from friends that she still has living in hawkins, but it was always brought up way after it happened so there like. wasn't any point in her flying back to check on him even though she wanted to

she's always seen right through him, and it caused a lot of tension between them when he started becoming King Steve/their parents golden child

she's always wanted to learn guitar but just hasn't gotten around to it

she's really supportive, and will automatically back steve up even when he's wrong or she doesn't know what's going on

she will also take any opportunity to bully him

#steve's like: 'im bi and this metalhead who was accused of murder is my boyfriend (:' #and louisa's like: 'okay then!' #is she concerned about that limited information?? maybe! but is her brother happy and smiling?? yes! #so she'll suck it up and draft one hell of a shovel talk #louisa harrington #harrington headcanons #steve harrington #stranger things

[hb-writes]

Ch. 8 - Don't Keep Things From Me

You don't keep things from me.

Charlie sat in her first period class with Como Agua Para Chocolate open on her desk, slogging through the Spanish in the short time before class was due to start. Louisa rolled her eyes when she finally found her there. She had been waiting just inside the main entrance while Charlie and Harvey finished up their conversation, but she had somehow missed Charlie pass through.

Or maybe Charlie had been avoiding her. Avoiding this. There were other—more roundabout—ways to get into the school. Louisa figured Charlie had sought one of those out rather than facing her.

"What is with you this morning?" Louisa huffed.

Charlie didn't bother to look up and the silence held between them for longer than was comfortable. Louisa huffed, her arms snapping to her chest and her black kitten heels starting to mechanically click on the hardwood floor.

Charlie set her thumb between the pages of the book as her gaze traveled to Louisa's foot, and then eventually to her face. She meant to keep her face neutral…she meant to allow just a hint of subtle annoyance and nothing more, but the corner of Charlie's mouth dipped into a betraying frown and Louisa sighed gently before sliding into the seat in front of Charlie.

"So?" Louisa prompted, swiftly shifting backwards in the seat to rest her arms on Charlie's desk. "What is it? What's wrong with you?"

"Seriously?" Charlie hissed. "What's wrong with me—?" She closed her book and set it on top of the pile on her desk— "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Charlie pushed the books forward, towards the edge of her desk creating a barrier between her and Louisa.

"Me? I was just trying to help the situation," Louisa said. She pulled her arms off Charlie's desk and shifted back in her seat, seeming a bit wounded by the mere insinuation that she could have been trying to do anything other than help by propositioning Charlie's brother. "You certainly weren't going to help yourself."

Charlie took a measured breath, inhaling and exhaling deeply through her nose. She pulled off her hat, setting it on top of the books and pushed her hands through her hair as she leaned back to stare at the ceiling.

"It's beyond help," Charlie muttered, closing her eyes as she kept her head tilted up to the headache-inducing fluorescent lights. The situation was beyond salvaging. Charlie wasn't quite sure if it was Louisa's fault—things had already been bad—but if anything, Louisa's intervention had made the situation worse. She had pissed Harvey off. And Louisa's inserting herself had confused things.

And all for what? A guy Louisa liked? A party Charlie didn't even really care about going to?

It was stupid. All of it. Whatever had happened this morning in the car…the stuff Louisa had said. The stuff Harvey had said. The stuff she had said…it was all stupid. None of it meant anything, but now it was all blown up and out of proportion.

Charlie was mad, but she hadn't wanted this—she hadn't wanted to argue with her brother. Not about this.

She wanted to scream and cry and maybe even punch Harvey, but it wasn't about being grounded or getting to go to a party. Charlie wanted her brother to feel just a hint of the anger and fear and confusion she felt. She wanted him to wonder what was behind her sudden rage, her attitude. She wanted him to realize what he had done without her having to say it because it didn't feel fair that Charlie should have to be the one to voice it. To have to figure out what to say or to hold it all on her own.

Louisa was watching Charlie when she finally pulled her eyes from the ceiling, an expectant look in her gaze. Charlie ignored it, blinking long and hard to quell the watering of her eyes before she glanced around the classroom.

Their teacher still hadn't arrived and the other desks were still nearly empty, just a few other students busy with their procrastinated homework assignments or sleeping with their heads down on the desk. "Where's Noah?"

"How should I know?" Louisa followed Charlie's gaze around the room. "Just tell me what's going on."

Charlie looked back to Louisa and raised an eyebrow. She didn't really want to explain herself more than once. It would be better to wait for Noah. "Do you two even communicate?"

Louisa shrugged. "You know how it is."

Charlie snorted softly. She did know how they were even if she didn't particularly understand it. Before Charlie transferred in, Noah and Louisa had spoken solely through the use of insults. There were days when the two continued to lend preference to that method.

"He likes to talk," Louisa mimed with her hand and her pink, polished fingernails shimmered with the movement. "I like to text."

"Yeah, right, of course, I know." Charlie rolled her eyes. "Why do I get the feeling that you two wouldn't even be friends if it weren't for me?"

"Probably because we've known each other since Pre-K and the princess here didn't have a nice word to say to me until you waltzed into our lives." Noah set a drink holder on a nearby desk and handed coffee cups to both girls. He smirked at Charlie as he pushed an errant strand of hair out of his eyes.

Charlie held back a comment pointing out that the 'nice words' Noah referred to were still few a far between. She offered him a quiet thank you instead, some tension releasing in her as she took a warm, velvety sip.

"Well, aren't you clever?" Louisa answered, though something thawed and relaxed in her, too, as she took the first sip of coffee. It was from Louisa's favorite place—a little out of the way cafe they'd found one afternoon wandering around after school.

"I am, thank you," Noah said, pushing himself on top of the desk adjacent to Charlie's and pulling his own drink free from the holder.

Louisa scoffed, turning to glare at him. "It wasn't a compli—"

Charlie cleared her throat and Louisa closed her mouth, but she didn't pull her glare from Noah. And Noah held Louisa's gaze, the little smirk that infuriated Louisa held there in the corner of his mouth.

Charlie was almost grateful that they were seemingly ignoring her, glad that neither of them looked at her. She stayed quiet, considering the opportunity to let them go on with their harmless little routine. Maybe it was better that way. Maybe…

Noah's smirk disappeared as he moved his gaze to Charlie, his eyes flitting across her face. Louisa's gaze followed, and then the two of them were looking at each other, not glaring or smirking, but a silent bit of communication passing between them that only went on for a few seconds before Noah looked at Charlie again. "What's wrong?"

Charlie stayed quiet long enough that Noah was about to break his silence and direct the same question at Louisa, figuring either that she already knew what was going on or had been the one to cause it, but Charlie shifted in her seat so he settled in, bringing his coffee cup to his lips.

"I…I found a letter from my father," Charlie mumbled. "Harvey had it hidden in his desk."

Noah gulped down the hot coffee before pulling the cup from his lips. "From your father or your father?"

Charlie glanced at Noah as she clarified. "Biological."

Louisa swallowed and her features shifted as the information settled in. A letter from Charlie's biological father. Charlie had told them all about her past, about her family, but they hadn't talked about the man in ages.

Charlie glanced at Louisa, but found she was looking down, watching as her thumb trailed around the lid of her coffee cup. Charlie idly wondered what Louisa was thinking about. Whether she was feeling guilty about her morning's endeavors…about inciting things with Harvey considering what Charlie had now revealed.

Or maybe Louisa was thinking about her own messed up parental situation. Charlie realized she didn't really know what was going on with Louisa and her family. They hadn't really talked about either of their fathers in ages. And since Louisa wasn't bringing it up…since Charlie had been focused on other things, she hadn't even thought to ask.

But Louisa had her own issues where parental figures were concerned. When Louisa told Harvey she'd never been grounded, she wasn't lying. It just wasn't for the reason she had implied. Louisa's father was just rarely home. And even when he was, he wasn't particularly interested in his child. Certainly not enough to employ any sort of discipline or care. Where Harvey was involved enough to ground Charlie for weeks at a time, to lecture and discuss and sort out her less savory decision making, Mr. and the second Mrs. Sorenson took 'business' trips around the world for months at a time, leaving his only child with minimal supervision from their nanny-housekeeper.

The circumstances were different, but Louisa identified with Charlie on the subject of parental figures. She sympathized with the murky feelings that came from the confusing relationships with imperfect mothers and fathers—especially absent ones.

"What did it say?"

Noah's gentle question tugged on Charlie's focus and she left Louisa to her thoughts without prodding. Charlie shrugged even though she had been the one to bring this up, even though she had no intention of keeping this from her friends.

There was no embarrassment in it. Noah and Louisa already knew everything there was to know about her history anyway. They knew about her mother leaving her. They knew about her dad dying from a heart attack. They knew that her other father, her biological father, was in a prison upstate serving a fifteen year sentence. And she didn't want to be alone in this. Holding it to herself for a little over an hour had been bad enough.

And yet the words stayed lodged inside of her.

Charlie shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, her resolve. "I only got through the first few lines."

Charlie had panicked and shoved the letter back in Harvey's desk when she heard him moving about down the hall. There had been a second paragraph that she hadn't gotten to, but the first had given her more than enough to think about.

Charlie glanced up, surveying the classroom. The room was beginning to fill in, students finding their seats as their teacher began writing something on the board at the front of the class. Charlie reached into her bag to find her homework assignment.

"He asked me to come visit," she offered.

Louisa and Noah stayed quiet and Charlie was sure they were sharing a look, but Charlie remained focused on smoothing the paper out against the desk even though there were no creases needing such thorough attention.

"In prison?" Noah asked as he pulled his own assignment from his bag. "How long has it been?"

Charlie took a deep breath, trying to ignore the shaky, straining ache that pulled in her chest. "Never?" she guessed. If Charlie had been to see the man in prison at some point, she certainly didn't remember it. She barely remembered him as it was. "He used to write to me sometimes…birthday cards, little notes, stuff like that…back before I moved in with Harvey."

Gordon had always read the letters and cards with her, letting her decide if she wanted to send anything back. The mail was so irregular that Charlie could probably count the number of notes she'd received on her two hands, but she remembered them. She supposed she remembered sitting with her dad and reading them, more than anything. She remembered him teaching her how to address an envelope and put on proper postage. She remembered him walking her to the blue collection box three blocks from their house in Riverside to send it out. The memory of the letters was more tied to Gordon Specter than anyone else. And she hadn't received anything since he passed.

"Are you going to go?" Louisa asked.

Charlie shrugged again. She hadn't finished reading the letter and she hadn't really had the time to think any of it through. Charlie had been looking for her cell phone when she came across it in the drawer of Harvey's desk. She almost wished she'd found the phone or been found out before coming across the letter.

Charlie rubbed her eyes. She was tired. She didn't want to think. Not about her brother or the stupid letter. She glanced at what her teacher was writing on the board. She didn't want to think about derivatives or functions or integrals, either.

"I just can't believe he kept it from me." The words hurt as they came out, her voice a bit hoarse, tinged by her brother's betrayal.

"Maybe he just got it," Noah suggested.

"It was postmarked three weeks ago," Charlie said, playing with the lid of the coffee cup, "so I think he's had it awhile."

"Well, maybe he just didn't know how to tell you," Louisa said.

Charlie raised an eyebrow. Harvey so rarely had trouble finding the words. He delivered all sorts of news—good, bad, neutral—on a daily basis. She couldn't imagine why he'd have trouble telling her this.

"I doubt it," Charlie said. "He probably doesn't want me to go, but it's not really his choice. It's not up to him."

"Maybe he just didn't want to upset you," Louisa suggested. "Or maybe he was waiting until you weren't grounded anymore?"

Charlie stilled. It was quite possibly the stupidest thing she had ever heard, and even though it probably wasn't true—that probably wasn't why Harvey was keeping it from her—the mere prospect still sent her head whirling.

"Maybe he's just being an asshole," Charlie countered. "He's always talking about trust, trust, trust and here he is just lying to my face about my father. He has no right."

"So, say something to him," Noah offered. "Harvey's cool, as far as adults go. And there's nothing good that'll come from hiding it."

Noah was often the voice of reason between the three of them. Harvey had even said so on more than one occasion. One of his parents was a psychologist and the other worked for the UN. He was a natural mediator who saw both sides of every issue. Charlie wanted to hate him for it a little just now.

"Noah's right, Charlie," Louisa answered. "Doesn't happen often," she added as she glanced at him, "but he's right."

Charlie prickled at their sudden alliance. "He's just going to go all lawyer and turn it around on me." She shook her head. "He'll just be pissed because I was in his stuff, and especially after that stunt you just pulled…"

Louisa shrugged and Noah didn't even bother asking what stunt she had pulled.

"So, what if he's a little annoyed?" Louisa had seen Charlie's brother get that way plenty of times. "Frustration sort of suits him." Louisa shrugged.

Charlie scoffed, shaking her head. Louisa had always had a little crush on Harvey and she was rarely ever subtle, but Charlie wasn't in the mood for it.

"What?" Louisa smirked. "I'm just being honest. Your brother is handsome. You can't deny that."

"He's a liar. And an asshole," Charlie answered, the last part barely above a whisper, "and you're—"

"You're being a fangirl," Noah interrupted, "and it's not the time, Isa."

Louisa scoffed, turning to Noah. "If anyone's a fangirl, it's you. Trying to be Harvey's little protégé." She waved her hand in the air. "Like he'll ever let you intern there."

Charlie let their arguing settle her, grateful for the shift in their conversation. She didn't bother explaining to them the intricacies of Pearson-Hardman's internship program. She didn't bother trying to get their conversation back on topic because she wasn't ready to figure out what to do next. And she wasn't ready to commit to confronting her brother either.

"And what if I said your mom is hot? How would you like that?" Noah answered, lifting his hands in faux surrender when Louisa shot him a glare. "Just being honest."

"She is not my mother and she's certainly not hot," Louisa answered before turning to Charlie and offering a smile. "but Harvey is handsome. You can't deny that."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, he's my handsome brother and it's barely 8 am, so I'd appreciate it if you calm yourself."

Louisa smirked, shrugging her shoulders. Charlie knew that someday after they went to college, that girl would find herself someone rich, successful, handsome and well-dressed to settle down with—someone just like Harvey. Even now, Louisa went from the more popular boys, dragging Charlie along to parties thrown by college kids—Hudson school alumni, mostly. People who had graduated when Charlie, Louisa, and Noah were freshman. People who had stayed in town and now attended Columbia or NYU.

"Well, at least he seemed open about Saturday," Louisa mused. "You shouldn't have to do much more convincing and once he says yes to you spending the afternoon with me, I'm sure spending the night will be fine."

Charlie let out a hollow laugh. "Open? You thought he seemed open?" She shook her head. "You're delusional, Isa. I wouldn't be surprised if he tacked on an extra week now."

And Charlie had been so close. So so close to freedom. He probably would've concluded her punishment in a few days if it hadn't been for this morning. Louisa shrugged.

"What's happening Saturday?" Noah asked.

"There's an idea," Charlie said, nodding towards him. "Why don't you take Noah instead?"

"Take me where?"

"Just a party," she said, dismissing it though Louisa's cheeks tinged pink. "But you're going out of town, right?"

Noah nodded, his eyes going a little wide.

Charlie turned to him. "You are?"

"Yeah, it's supposed to be nice out," he answered with a shrug. "Pop wants to go hiking,"

Charlie nodded, surprised she hadn't known, seeing as Louisa had.

"There, see," Louisa argued. "That's why I need you to come. Noah's busy."

Charlie would never suggest Louisa go to the party alone even though the imprudent suggestion was on the tip of her tongue. It probably wasn't even smart for Charlie and Louisa to be going to the parties.

"Well, you'll have to sit this one out because it's not going to happen," Charlie answered. "He's pissed now. And I'm almost free. It's not worth pushing him and getting grounded again."

And the truth was, Charlie didn't even know if she wanted to go. She'd had fun the other times, but that was when they'd been basically anonymous, when the two of them had mostly kept to themselves, just getting a little tipsy and dancing before going back to Louisa's apartment. But now people who knew them. Now there were drinking games…hangovers…later nights. And all of it seemed harder to hide.

Noah stepped in before Louisa could argue. "Well, you look like you want to stay grounded…and get detention," he said, a smirk playing on his lips as he nudged Charlie's boot. "You get ready in the dark this morning, Specter?"

"Oh, shut up," Charlie answered, hitting him with her book. "I was preoccupied this morning."

Noah laughed, nodding at Sam Hansen as he came down the adjacent aisle. Noah scooted from Sam's desk as he approached and swiped Charlie's homework assignment from the top of her books, lingering in the aisle as he waited for Louisa to sift through her color-coded folders to find her worksheet.

As Noah stepped away, bringing their homework papers to the teacher's desk, Sam slid into the desk beside Charlie, catching her eye, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his gaze traveled from her boots to her hat, acknowledging that he'd overheard the exchange between Noah and Charlie.

"You ready for the Spanish quiz?" he asked, pulling his eyes from her and nodding his head towards the book on her desk.

"Si," Charlie confirmed. "Estoy lista," she answered even though she scarcely felt prepared after barely skimming the chapter due today. She had planned on getting to it on the way to school, but had completely forgotten after finding the letter in her brother's desk. "You?"

Sam answered her with a lengthy set of sentences Charlie got a bit lost in, only able to pick out a few words here and there as she envied his easy Spanish. He was clearly more than ready, and Charlie was a bit jealous of how good he was with it. How easily learning Spanish had come to him when she was just passably decent, but still had to study and practice for that distinction. And whenever she did speak the language, she spoke with a terribly stilted accent, unable to roll her r's with any semblance of the naturalness that Sam seemed to have.

Charlie didn't answer him, not that she'd even know where exactly to begin, her gaze lingering until Noah passed back between them on his way to his seat. By the time Noah sat down, Sam had turned his attention to the front of the room, to their teacher and her lesson, and Charlie let her gaze follow. She tried to focus on her teacher's lecture on differential equations, and when that didn't work, she tried to at least use her time to review for the quiz she knew was coming in Spanish class, but her mind continued to wander back to her brother and the letter so she closed the book she held subtly open behind Louisa's back and leaned her head into her hand, her gaze directed vaguely toward the front of the classroom.

Things just weren't adding up. Trust was important to her brother. He was also big on her being honest and open with him no matter what. They were family. And they needed those things in their relationship in order for it to work. Harvey didn't care if whatever it was ended up being uncomfortable for either of them. He didn't care if she'd done something wrong. He didn't care if she'd done something stupid. He didn't care if whatever she needed to talk about was weird or personal. He didn't care if it was something that would make him want to wring her neck. Harvey expected his sister to come to him with issues and questions sooner rather than later.

The lawyer part of him knew it was easier to deal with things quickly, before they became complicated. Before they became real problems. The brother part of him knew that his sister tended to over analyze and catastrophize. He knew that while that was true, she could also be impulsive.

Either way, it all boiled down to loyalty, integrity, and trust from Harvey's perspective, and those things were non-negotiable. And a violation of those things was the only thing Harvey ever got really upset about when it came to his sister.

But by keeping this from her, wasn't Harvey violating those same principles? Didn't Charlie have every right to question her brother's loyalty? His integrity? His trustworthiness? The unanswered question validated her anger, her frustration, her hurt because though Harvey shouted at Charlie pretty often, it was pretty rare that he was truly upset with her.

Charlie still remembered the first time that had happened. She doubted she'd ever forget the way it felt, knowing she'd let Harvey down like that, broken his trust.

"You don't keep things from me," he had snapped at her.

Charlie still remembered Harvey's exact words…the exact tone he had used, his irritation bared to her as a heavy rock settled in her stomach. She cringed even just thinking about it—physically in her math class though she was emotionally and mentally sat beside Harvey in the backseat of Ray's car about half a decade ago.

Charlie could understand it now, why he had been so upset with her. Being her guardian was still so new to him then and Harvey hadn't appreciated being made to look like a fool, like he was unprepared or uninvolved, especially when he'd upended his life to take care of her. And it was Charlie who had done that to him, made him feel that way.

Or something she'd done, at least. It wasn't so much that Charlie had been failing her math class—her father had passed away and she had just moved homes and transferred schools and she hadn't caught up on the material yet. It had been expected, but Charlie didn't know that. She just knew that she was supposed to try her best at school. She figured that trying her best meant she was supposed to be the best. It meant she was supposed to get A's. At Charlie's old school, she had always gotten top marks, so it had never been an issue, but those first few months at her new school were hard on her. She struggled with new teachers and new classes and new friends…new everything, and rather than risk the unknown repercussions of failing, she tried to keep it to herself until she could get her grades up. She got away with it for some time, using Harvey's signature stamp at the office to sign off on the quizzes, but it had quickly come out in the wash at her parent-teacher conference.

Harvey had tried not to look caught off guard when the teacher mentioned Charlie's performance and the failing grades, but he hadn't exactly seen it coming. His Charlie was a straight-A student and she certainly didn't keep things from him. Harvey would've never thought her capable of something like that, but his signature was stamped right there at the top of each failed quiz and test.

He was annoyed. Disappointed. Confused. But in front of Charlie's teacher, Harvey pretended that all was well, like he had known of the quizzes all along. He would deal with her lying and signature forging on his own because they were supposed to be a united front. They were a team and even if she'd lied to him, broken his trust, he was going to be loyal to her.

Charlie hadn't lied to him about her school since then. Overall, Charlie tried to live up to her brother's standards in a more general sense. Harvey knew that she didn't bring everything to him, but for the most part, she told him the truth when it mattered. There was some hesitancy on her part, sure. And there were certainly things she omitted, but Harvey understood and expected that. Charlie was a teenager and Harvey the guy who doled out reprimands. Charlie wasn't a masochist and he trusts she was smart enough to know that some things could be reasonably omitted without breaking his trust. And Harvey knew that she usually came to somebody—to him or Marcus…to Donna or Mike—when it really mattered.

For the most part, it worked. Charlie told her brother far more than most kids told their parents. And he was far more open with her, too. Or that's what Charlie had always thought. Maybe she was naive for thinking that if Harvey expected her to be honest with him, the whole thing was supposed to work reciprocally, too. He wasn't supposed to keep things from her.

Not things like this.

It had never even occurred to Charlie that her brother might be keeping things from her, especially considering how forthcoming he always seemed to be, but then again, maybe Harvey omitted some things. Maybe he shared just enough to keep her happy and oblivious.

And maybe that was fair.

It wasn't as if Charlie actually told her brother everything either.

LTLB Masterlist (Everything)

LTLB Masterlist (Chapters)

Chapter 9

#suits #suits tv #suits usa #suits netflix #suits fanfiction #harvey specter #harvey specter fanfiction #specter!sister #charlie specter

[theculturedmarxist]

If you talk to an ordinary American, or, in my experience, if you talk to an average Israeli, for that matter, they don’t know anything about who the Palestinians are. They don’t know where they come from, they don’t know how they live, what they believe, and they don’t want to. Right? Because that just complicates things… – historian Sam Biagetti.

Last month, The New York Times conducted a series of interviews with a number of American Jewish families and the way they have been dealing with what the paper calls a “generational divide over Israel.”

The Times notes a trend that has been developing for a long time—younger American Jews becoming markedly more critical of, sometimes downright hostile to, Israel than their elders. The piece looks at “more than a dozen young people…[who] described feeling estranged from the version of Jewish identity they were raised with, which was often anchored in pro-Israel education.”

One such person is Louisa Kornblatt. She is the daughter of liberal Jewish parents, who grew up experiencing the cruelties of anti-Semitism in suburban New Jersey. Her grandmother “had fled Austria in 1938, just as the Nazis were taking over.” Partly as a result of this legacy, Louisa Kornblatt “shared her parents’ belief that the safety of Jewish people depended on a Jewish state” as a child.

However, her views began to shift once “she started attending a graduate program in social work at U.C. Berkeley in 2017.” As she recalls it, “classmates and friends challenged her thinking,” with some telling her that she was “on the wrong side of history.”

While in graduate school, “she read Audre Lorde, Mariame Kaba, Ruth Wilson Gilmore and other Black feminist thinkers,” who further made her re-think ingrained assumptions. Eventually, “Kornblatt came to feel that her emotional ties to Jewish statehood undermined her vision for ‘collective liberation.’”

“Over the last year, she became increasingly involved in pro-Palestine activism, including through Jewish Voice for Peace, an anti-Zionist activist group, and the If Not Now movement.” She now goes so far as to assert, “I don’t think the state of Israel should ever have been established,” because “It’s based on this idea of Jewish supremacy. And I’m not on board with that.”

Also interviewed are the parents of Jackson Schwartz, a senior at Columbia University whose education there has significantly altered his outlook on Israel:

“The parents of Mr. Schwartz…said they listen to him with open minds when he tells them about documentaries he has seen or things he has learned from professors like Rashid Khalidi, a prominent Palestinian intellectual who is a professor of modern Arab studies at Columbia. Dan Schwartz said his son helped him understand the Palestinian perspective on Israel’s founding, which was accompanied by a huge displacement of population that Palestinians call the Nakba, using the Arabic word for catastrophe.”

“It wasn’t until Jackson went to Columbia and took classes that I ever heard the word Nakba,” Dan Schwartz said.

These interviews are hugely instructive for two reasons. For one thing, they demonstrate very clearly why power centers are so critical of higher education, especially in the humanities: They are afraid young people might actually—horror of horrors—learn something, particularly something that challenges the status quo.

American culture overflows with accusations from parents that their kids went off to college only to be “indoctrinated.” But at least in these instances, the opposite is what happened—far from being brainwashed, the kids read books and learned history, and were forced to think hard about the implications. In other words, higher education did exactly what it is supposed to do—forced students to encounter and engage with perspectives and thinkers they otherwise never would have.

In reality, most parents (and certainly media outlets) who complain of indoctrination are actually worried about education—that is, that their children will develop more nuanced, critical and informed views of the world after engaging with unfamiliar viewpoints. Such aggrieved elders don’t see it this way, of course, largely because they themselves never shook off the propaganda of their youth. Indeed, they likely are not even capable of perceiving it as such. But that is what it is.

The interviews from the Times piece also demonstrate what Sam Biagetti refers to in the quote that sits atop this article: the phenomenon of older Americans who profess attachment to (and presumably knowledge of) Israel, displaying aggressive—no, fanatic—ignorance about basic Israeli/Middle East history.

That Mr. Schwartz had never heard of the Nakba until his son learned about it from Rashid Khalidi speaks volumes about the way young people in this country are “taught” about Israel, as well as how much their parents actually “know” about it. It is the equivalent of a German father professing fierce attachment to the German nation-state, but never hearing the word “Holocaust” until his child tells him about it after learning the history from a Jewish professor.

The new documentary Israelism explores this issue of younger Jewish people raised to reflexively identify with Israel and to view it as a “Jewish Disneyland,” but who changed their minds (and behavior) upon encountering the brutal realities of the Israeli occupation of the West Bank and Gaza.

It is a powerful film, one that takes a look at the too-often ignored indoctrination regarding Israel taking place in many Jewish day schools, the way younger people are starting to de-program themselves from it, and where they go from there.

Directed by first-time filmmakers Erin Axelman and Sam Eilertsen, Israelism largely follows two protagonists whose experiences mirror those of the filmmakers.

The first protagonist, Eitan (whose last name is never revealed), grew up in a conservative Jewish home in Atlanta. Typical of such an upbringing, he was steeped in pro-Israel PR.

He recounts that “Israel was a central part of everything we did in school.” His high school routinely sent delegations to AIPAC (the American Israel Public Affairs Committee, also known as the “Israel lobby”) conferences.

Outside of school, the PR continued. He describes going to Jewish summer camp, where each year the staff included a group of Israeli counselors, brought in “to connect American Jews to Israeli culture.”

This included having the children playing games designed to simulate being in the Israeli military, including the use of actual Israeli military commands.

The film intersperses interviews of its protagonists with interviews of prominent individuals who promote this Israeli PR.

For instance, Rabbi Bennett Miller, the then-National Chair of the Association of Reform Zionists of America, asks with a laugh, “does [my] average congregant understand that I’m teaching them to become Zionists? Probably not, but it is part of my madness, so to speak.”

Enamored with what he saw as the glory of military service, Eitan told his parents that he was going to join the Israeli military rather than go to college. He had always thought of Israel as “my country,” and learned from numerous childhood visits there that he “fit in” better in Israel than in the United States.

During basic training with the IDF, he was trained as a “heavy machine gunnist” [sic] with an emphasis on urban warfare. After seven months of this, he was deployed to the West Bank. His life in the IDF involved operating the various checkpoints which comprise the apartheid system, as well as patrolling Palestinian villages on foot in full gear with a bulletproof vests. He recounts that on such patrols, the mission of his unit was to make their presence felt, in order “to let them know that we were watching.”

His encounter with the occupation changed him forever. “Even though Israel was a central part of everything we did in school,” he recalls, “we never really discussed the Palestinians. It was presented to us that Israel was basically an empty wasteland when the Jews arrived. ‘There were some Arabs there,’ they said, but there was no organized people; they had really treated the land poorly. Yeah, there are Palestinians, [but] they just want to kill us all…” Furthermore, “It was always presented to us that the Arabs only know terrorism.”

His role as an occupier made him see things rather differently. He witnessed IDF soldiers needlessly abusing captives, who were blindfolded and handcuffed, thrown to the ground, kicked and beaten. He despairs that he “didn’t even speak up,” something he is visibly still struggling with. And, he says, “that’s just one of many stories that I have from my time in the West Bank. It took many years to really come to terms with my part in it. Only after I got out of the army did I begin to realize that the stuff that I did [from] day to day, just working in checkpoints, patrolling villages—that in itself was immoral.”

After great difficulty, Eitan has begun to publicly speak out about his experiences, though he notes that it took a long time, and that on his first attempt, he was not able to make it through without crying excessively. Since then, he has gotten better, and continues to pursue this necessary work.

Israelism’s second protagonist is Simone Zimmerman. Zimmerman’s grandfather settled in Israel; he and his immediate family were some of her only relatives to escape the Holocaust. Zimmerman herself was raised in a staunchly pro-Israel household, attending Hebrew school from kindergarten through high school. While in high school she lived in Israel for a period as part of an exchange program, which was just one of many visits.

These organized stays in Israel routinely involved her and her friends dressing up in Israeli army uniforms and pretending to be in the IDF. She participated in Jewish youth groups and summer camps which, like Eitan, immersed her in a steady diet of pro-Israel propaganda. Summing up her childhood experience, Zimmerman explains that “Israel was just treated like a core part of being a Jew. So, you did prayers, and you did Israel.”

Like Eitan, she was familiar with AIPAC: “AIPAC is just the thing that you do. Like, going to the AIPAC conference is just sort of seen as a community event.” Perhaps unsurprisingly, almost ten percent of her high school graduating class ended up joining the Israeli army, and many of her summer camp and youth group friends did as well. This is the power of effective propaganda instilled from a young age, Zimmerman observes. “The indoctrination is so severe, it’s almost hard to have a conversation about it. It’s heartbreaking.”

Israelism contains footage of this indoctrination in action inside Hebrew schools.

Scenes of teachers excitedly asking classes of young children, “do you want to go to Israel too?” and the children screaming back, “YEAH!!!” are reminiscent of the similarly nauseating kinds of religious indoctrination made famous in an earlier era by films like Jesus Camp.

Some of these scenes can be glimpsed in the trailer for the film. Older students are seen reading copies of Alan Dershowitz’s book The Case for Israel, which was famously exposed as a fraud by Norman Finkelstein years ago. Zimmerman herself gets to look at some of her old worksheets and art projects from her elementary school days, all of which in some way revolved around the Israeli state.

Other than enlisting in the IDF, Zimmerman had been told that the other major way to be “a good supporter of the Jewish people” was to become an “Israel advocate.” Choosing the latter path, Zimmerman became involved with Hillel, the largest Jewish campus organization in the world, when she began attending the University of California at Berkeley. Hillel, too, worked very hard to instill pro-Israel beliefs in her. She describes being trained in how to rebut “the ‘lies’ that other people [were] saying” about Israel.

The film explores the nature of Hillel’s work fostering pro-Israel activism at college campuses across the country. Tom Barkan, a former IDF soldier and “Israel fellow” at the University of Connecticut’s Hillel chapter, says, “name a university in America, we probably have a person there.” Barkan’s mission is to turn Jewish college students into either Israel advocates or military recruits. While he warns eager students that joining the IDF will not be easy, he wistfully tells them that it will be “the most meaningful experience that you ever go through.”

Former Jewish day school teacher Jacqui Schulefand works with Barkan in her role as Director of Engagement and Programs at UConn’s Hillel branch. Her love for the State of Israel is inseparable from her identity as a Jewish person, which she proudly explains. “Can you separate Israel and Judaism? I don’t know—I can’t. You know, some people I think can. To me, it’s the same. Yeah, you can’t separate it. Israel is Judaism and Judaism is Israel. And that is who I am, and that is my identity. And I think every single thing that I experienced along my life has melded into that, like there was never, you know, a divide for me.”

Schulefand describes joining the Israeli armed forces as “the greatest gift you can give,” and notes that “we actually have had quite a few of our former students join the IDF—amazing!” But her demeanor sours when she is asked about criticisms of the country. In a tone combining incomprehension with a hint of disgust, she laments that “somehow, ‘pro-Palestinian’ has become ‘pro-social justice.’”

It was this sort of pro-Israel advocacy network that organized Simone Zimmerman and other students to oppose what they perceived to be “anti-Semitic” activities such as student government legislation favoring the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions (BDS) movement against Israeli occupation, and other measures critical of Israel.

To prepare for such confrontations, she was handed talking points that told her what to say—accuse critics of being anti-Semitic, of having a double standard, of making Jewish students feel unsafe, etc. Describing her feelings about BDS and the Palestinian cause at the time, Zimmerman says that “I just knew that it was this bad thing that I had to fight.” She remembers literally reading off the cards when it came time for her to make the case for Israel.

However, such work inevitably brought her into contact with people who challenged her views. She encountered terms like apartheid, ethnic cleansing, and illegal occupation. “I thought I knew so much about Israel, but I didn’t really know what anybody was talking about when they were talking about all these things,” she said.

Growing up, she was barely taught anything about Palestinians, much like Eitan: “The idea that there were native inhabitants who lived there [when settlers began to arrive] was not even part of my frame of reference.”[1] To the extent that her upbringing provided her with any conception of what a Palestinian was, it was that a Palestinian was someone “who kills Jews, or wants to kill Jews.” But now she was dealing with actual Palestinian students and their non-Palestinian allies, who told her things she found alarming.

Zimmerman went back to Hillel, embarrassed that she and the other pro-Israel advocates were not doing a good job refuting the information they had been confronted with. When Zimmerman asked what the proper responses were to specific criticisms directed at Israel—other than shouting “double standard” or “anti-Semitic”—no one provided her with any. “That was really disturbing for me,” she says. She was flabbergasted that “there are these people called Palestinians who think that Israel wields all this power over their lives and don’t have rights, don’t have water. What is this? How do I respond to it?” “How is it that I am the best the Jewish community has to offer—I’ve been to all the trainings, all the summer camps—and I don’t know what the settlements are, or what the occupation is?”

This anguish led Zimmerman to see the occupation for herself, the summer after her freshman year. This was her first time “crossing the line” into the West Bank. The film movingly details her experiences there. She listened to Palestinian families describe routine instances of being beaten by the IDF, and the harsh realities of life under military rule.

She befriends Sami Awad, Executive Director of the Holy Land Trust, who works to give Americans tours of the territory. An American citizen born in the U.S., Awad describes encounters with American kids who have joined the IDF, people “who just moved here to be part of an army to play cowboys and Indians.” He remarks on the absurdity that “Somebody…comes here from New York or from Chicago, and [claims] that this land is theirs.”

Awad’s family was originally from Jerusalem. His grandfather was shot by an Israeli sniper in 1948, and the rest of his family were evicted by Israeli forces soon after during the Nakba. They have never been allowed to return, and have lived under occupation ever since. Nevertheless, Awad is an extraordinarily empathetic person, having made a career out of trying to teach Westerners what life is like in the West Bank, in the hopes that they will use what they learn to effect positive change. He recounts visiting Auschwitz, and says that the experience gave him an insight into “inherited trauma” and how it shapes the conflict today. In the film he comes across as optimistic:

“I really believe that there is an emerging awakening within the American Jewish community…From American Jews, coming here, and listening to us, and hearing us, and seeing our humanity, and understanding that we are not just out sitting in bunkers, planning the next attack against Israelis, that we do have a desire to live in peace, and to have our freedom, and to walk in our streets, and to eat in our restaurants, and like we – I mean it’s crazy that I have to say this, that we are real human beings that just want to survive and live, like all other people in this world.”

Zimmerman also meets Baha Hilo, an English speaker who works as a tour guide with To Be There, another group that helps people understand the reality that Israel imposes on the West Bank. His family was expelled from Jaffa in 1948 during the Nakba. They were forced to settle in Bethlehem, sadly believing that they would eventually be able to return to their homes.

Hilo discusses his frustration that Israelis get to live under civil law, whereas Palestinians like him must live under the humiliating military law of the occupation: “When an American goes to the West Bank, he has more rights there than I have had my entire life!” The film takes care to note that Americans play a major role in such realities: “Of the roughly 450,000 [illegal] Israeli settlers living in the occupied West Bank, 60,000 are American Jews.” Some readers may recall the famous viral video of an Israeli named Yakub unashamedly stealing Palestinian homes while conveying a breathtaking sense of entitlement.

Hilo laments that, “From the day you are born, you live day in and day out without experiencing a day of freedom.” His astonishment at the audacity of Israelis, particularly those who are also Americans, mirrors Awad’s: “What makes an 18-year-old American kid who was given [a] ten days’ trip for free in Palestine, what makes him want to come in and sacrifice his life? Why would a foreigner think it’s ok to have superior rights to the rights of the indigenous population? Because somebody told them it’s [their] home.”

While happy to make such friends, Zimmerman nonetheless says of her time there, “I don’t think I realized the extent to which what I would come to see on the ground would really shock me and horrify me.” This experience often changes people. The filmmaker Rebecca Pierce is interviewed on her own visits to the West Bank, and her reaction is in line with Zimmerman’s. Pierce had always been opposed to using the word “apartheid,” but once she saw the reality of the situation, she changed her mind immediately.

The protagonist of With God on Our Side (a 2010 documentary critical of Christian Zionism), a young man named Christopher, had a similar reaction, specifically at the behavior he witnessed from the Israeli settlers. Each year a group of them converges on the Arab section of Old Jerusalem to celebrate Israel’s capture of East Jerusalem in 1967. Christopher witnessed the festivities, which featured a massive crowd of settlers wrapped in Israeli flags, shouting “death to Arabs” repeatedly as they danced through the streets.

A large group identified an Arab journalist, surrounded him, began chanting at him and flipping him off, to the point where the police had to be called. Christopher was visibly shocked at all this, glumly remarking that he “felt ashamed to be there.” This same celebration is also seen in Israelism, and the Israeli chants are as deranged as ever: “An Arab is a son of a bitch! A Jew is a precious soul!” “Death to the leftists!”

Zimmerman’s experiences led her to become a co-founder of the If Not Now movement, a grassroots Jewish organization which works to end U.S. support for Israel. They have engaged in activism targeting the ADL (more on them in a moment), AIPAC, the headquarters of Birthright Israel, and other organizations which directly contribute to the perpetuation of Israel’s occupation. “We decided to bring the crisis of American Jewish support for Israel to the doorsteps of Jewish institutions to force that conversation in public,” Zimmerman says.

Israelism contains powerful scenes of younger Jewish people engaging in this work. Many come from similar backgrounds as Eitan and Simone. Consider Avner Gvaryahu. Born and raised in Israel, Gvaryahu also joined the IDF. His combat experience ultimately turned him against the occupation. His whole life in Israel, he had never been inside a Palestinian home, but was now being tasked with “barg[ing] into one in the middle of the night.”

By the end of his service, he had routinely taken over Palestinian homes and used them as military facilities. No warrants were needed, and no notice was ever given to the families who were living there. He reflects back “with shame” on how violently he often acted toward the residents in such situations. Gvaryahu is now the Executive Director of Breaking the Silence, an organization of IDF veterans committed to peace.

“There are a lot of Jewish young people who see a Jewish establishment that is racist, that is nationalistic,” Zimmerman explains. Jeremy Ben-Ami, the President of J Street, agrees. “They’re really, really angry about the way they were educated, and the way they were indoctrinated about these issues, and justifiably so.”

While such courageous individuals often receive quite a bit of hatred from their own community (Zimmerman says, “The word I used to hear a lot was ‘self-hating Jew.’ Like, the only way a Jewish person could possibly care about the humanity of Palestinians is if you hate yourself”), their numbers are growing, and one hopes that this will continue. Israelism was released a few months before the terrorist attacks of October 7th and Israel’s genocidal response, events which make the film timely and important.

Since October 7th, we have seen many of the tactics and talking points used to justify Israel’s crimes that the film depicts return with a vengeance. Chief among them is the by-now ubiquitous claim that calling out Israeli atrocities is somehow anti-Semitic.

Zimmerman is anguished that “so many of the purported leaders of our community have been trying to equate the idea of Palestinian rights itself with anti-Semitism.”

This applies to no one more than Abraham “Abe” Foxman, who until his recent retirement was the long-time head of the Anti-Defamation League (ADL), an organization masquerading as a civil rights group but which is really a pro-Israeli government outfit which has long sought to redefine anti-Semitism to include “criticisms of Israel.”

These efforts have borne fruit—“The Trump administration issued an executive order adopting” this definition of anti-Semitism “for the purposes of enforcing federal civil rights law,” Michelle Goldberg notes in The New York Times. Foxman says in the film that “it hurts me for a Jewish kid to stand up there and say ‘justice for the Palestinians,’ and not [say] ‘justice for Israelis’; it troubles me, hurts me, bothers me. It means we failed. We failed in educating, in explaining, et cetera.” Many Israel supporters seem to share Foxman’s horror that Jewish people sometimes care about the well-being of people other than themselves.

Israelism explores this deliberate conflation of anti-Semitism with anti-Zionism. Sarah Anne Minkin, of the Foundation for Middle East Peace, is deeply bothered that “The way we talk about anti-Semitism isn’t about protecting Jews, it’s about protecting Israel. How dangerous is that, at this moment with the rise of anti-Semitism?”

Indeed, the film contains footage of the infamous Unite the Right rally featuring hordes of white supremacists marching through Charlottesville, Virginia, with torches, screaming “Jews. Will not. Replace us!” over and over, as well as news footage of the aftermath of the Tree of Life Synagogue mass shooting.

One of the chief tasks of Israeli propagandists has been to conflate such acts with anti-Zionist sentiment. Genuine anti-Semitism of the Charlottesville variety is (obviously) a product of the far right—recall that President Donald Trump famously referred to “very fine people on both sides” of that incident, an unmistakable wink and nod to such fascist groups.

People who comprise such groups, the type who paint swastikas on Jewish homes, are not the same as peace activists marching to end the Israeli occupation. This should not be difficult to understand. But the Israel PR machine has done a marvelous job confusing otherwise intelligent people on this issue.

Also quoted in the film is Ted Cruz, who like Trump is a regular speaker at AIPAC events, and who like many Republicans pitches his political rhetoric to appeal to the very reactionaries who espouse genuinely anti-Semitic sentiments. This does not stop him from having the audacity to refer to criticisms of Israel as anti-Semitic, shamelessly insisting that “the left has a long history of anti-Semitism.”

The American right wing has been hard at work lately, trying to convince gullible people that the rise of actual anti-Semitic incidents is the result of critics of Israel. The New York Times’s Michelle Goldberg reports that “Chris Rufo, the right-wing activist who whipped up nationwide campaigns against critical race theory and diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives, told me he’s part of a group at the conservative Manhattan Institute workshopping new policy proposals targeting what it sees as campus antisemitism.”

Such efforts apparently convince many liberal-leaning people to agree with UConn Hillel’s Jacqui Schulefand, who as noted above believes that “Israel is Judaism and Judaism is Israel.”

If you believe this, it is understandable how you might come to see criticizing a government’s policies, or the political ideology (Zionism) undergirding them, as anti-Semitic. I do not often profess gratitude for President Biden (indeed, I am really hoping the “Genocide Joe” label sticks), but it was nice to see him publicly state that “You don’t have to be a Jew to be a Zionist. And I’m a Zionist.” This pronouncement clarifies something that the Israel Lobby likes to obscure—that Zionism is a political ideology, like “conservatism,” “socialism” or “libertarianism.”

As such, critiquing it is not racist or anti-Semitic, even if the criticism is inaccurate.

It is always important to consider the ways in which assumptions held uncritically can lead one astray, especially assumptions ingrained from a young age, before people possess the capacity to sufficiently question what they are being told. Israelism is a powerful, thought-provoking film that does this spectacularly. And it does so for a topic that does not get as much attention as it should. Discussions of Christian propaganda are fairly common (again, think of Jesus Camp, or even With God on Our Side), as are denunciations of the kind of Islamic fundamentalist propaganda that comes out of places like Saudi Arabia.

It is almost too easy to go after the Mormons or the Scientologists. But the indoctrination taking place in many Jewish schools gets comparatively little attention. I have written previously of my admiration for people, like Naomi Klein, who frankly discuss the troubling fact that Israeli PR defined much of their early schooling. It is important to have an entire film devoted to the subject. People might not like what they see, but they need to see it.

Israelism is streaming here until January 31st.

#israel #israelism #documentary #palestine #anti defamation league #aipac #zionism #antisemitism #nakba

[hawkytawky]

An Arc's Chance - Summary

Sixteen year old Jaune had given up all hope to be a hero like his parents, grandparents, and great grandparents before him.

That was until the day his mother came into his room and told him he would be going to Signal three years later than he should have. Signal was a combat school on the small island of Patch and on the other side of Vale.

There he would be staying with an old friend of his mother, Taiyang Xiao Long. Who would hopefully teach him everything he needed to know before he went off to one of the Academies in a year.

And with Yang Xiao Long and Ruby Rose to help him along the way, maybe he could become a great hero like many Arc before him.

Jaune's mother trusting him to carry on not only the family legacy, but the weapon that had carried his great grandfather through the war, Crocea Mors.

Louisa Arc watching her son go off on a journey she had spent so long forbidding him from. Before leaving for her own journey, looking to find answers for a question that had plagued her for years.

******

Hello everyone.

For the last little bit I've been kicking around an idea, tons of ideas really, for an AU. What if Jaune went to Signal for a year before going off to Beacon?

Crazy things. Lots of crazy things.

But I have come across a little bit of a problem in planning this AU out. I have too many ideas, and a lot of them are kind of mutually exclusive. And a few of the ones I really like would probably kind of bog down the story.

I can't just throw a bunch of ideas at the wall and not spend much time developing them, can I?

So I'm going to turn this AU into a series here on Tumblr to help me kind of figure out which ideas I want to go with, and them I'll post the actual fic on FF.Net and AO3.

So, as I mentioned above, the premise for this AU is that Jaune goes to Signal a year before he would have gone to Beacon. But everything before that is pretty much the same. Jaune is still completely untrained and knows basically nothing about being a huntsman.

Which I'd like to make one thing very clear, this is not an OP harem protagonist Jaune AU. A year of training at Signal isn't going to make Jaune crazy powerful. If anything, you'll just have something in between Volume 3 and 4 Jaune at the start of Beacon.

So instead of being at the bottom of the class, he'll be closer to the lower end of the average. From a F to a D+. And he'll still be way behind anyone in RWBY or the rest of JNPR, who are all in the S, A, and B tiers.

I'm keeping Jaune still a few steps behind everyone else, because I actually like that aspect of his character. You know, he has to rely more of good planning, and his aura I guess, for combat than anyone else because he's at a disadvantage. And I love crafty fighters.

And I do think it adds an interesting element to his character out of combat. That he's always going to have to work hard to "Not be a burden" and he's always going to blame himself the most when something goes wrong. Because it might not of if he was stronger.

So yeah, that's everything I want to say for this post. Though I'm sure I'll be back testing out another idea soon enough.

#rwby #rwby au #an arc's chance

[knockyasocksoff2022]

The Cask of Manhasset {RANPOE}

When his Dad gets a teaching job at an American University, Ranpo must move with them to the American state of Connecticut. Once there he starts his Junior year of high school at Manhasset Maor Academy, which is also attended by the children of the elite Fitzgerald Family. Four of them are Juniors just like he is, four are Seniors, and the youngest Lucy is a Sophomore.

Lucy is wild and social and eager to make friends with the new student, but Ranpo is more curious about her introverted older brother.

After a failed introduction, Ranpo becomes even more curious to find out all he can about Edgar, determined, if not to befriend him, then to beat him out for top rank in the next exams. But what will happen when he turns up something far more disturbing than just gory mystery novels and a strange obsession with Racoons?

~ CAST ~

RANPO (17) (has come to finish his junior and senior high school in America after his father gets a job at a university)

ELISE (8) (in 3rd grade)

KYUSAKU (13) (in 7th grade and a little crazy but that's okay)

YUKICHI (45) (got a job teaching at a university in Connecticut)

OUGAI (40) (is a surgeon)

The Fitzgerald Coven

Seniors

LOUISA (19) (older than Poe but just as shy, they have tea and cookies together when it’s too sunny to go to school, he confides in her first about his feelings for Ranpo and she promises not to tell, she keeps her word. Was turned many decades ago by Francis to be his secretary.)

HOWARD (18) (tired)

MARGARET (19) (loves Southern Belle fashion, reading and writing, neutral to Poe, but secretly finds him endearing, only telling this to Nathaniel. She worries about what his relationship w/ Ranpo may bring)

NATHANIEL (18) (loves god and Margaret. The two joined the Fitzgerald Coven as a couple)

Juniors -

Lucy & Edgar had been doing homeschool during their first year as vampires but Francis and Zelda wanted them to have the full High School Experience so he enrolled them at Manhasset Manor Academy. The older coven members agreed to join as well just to keep an eye on Edgar and Lucy and make sure they stay out of trouble.

EDGAR (19) (Was taken in by Francis six years ago after his parents were killed when someone attempted to rob the Poe family home. Edgar's father owned a lucrative publishing business and his mother was a semi-famous interior decorator. Fitzgerald bought both businesses and the home. Since Edgar had no other living relatives, he went to live with Francis and Zelda, who raised him like their own. He was turned two years ago and has been living with him since, he is quiet and shy, loves poetry, and books, and doesn't talk to anyone . . . until Ranpo)

JOHN (17) (He asked to be turned so he could be stronger and provide for his family and their farm after several bad harvests, he wanted to see the world and after his family members all passed of old age he came to live with the Fitzgerald coven.)

MARK (17) (always down for anything, he found the coven by accident. He’s totally chill with Ranpo, maybe a little intimidated by his IQ but still welcomes him into the family.)

LUCY(16) (Was turned by Fitzgerald only one year ago, but she's been living with them for 9 years, ever since Francis rescued her from an abusive orphanage when she was 8. She is wild and is kind of annoyed at Poe's shyness and they fight a lot but still loves him a lot, she's a sophomore at Manhasset Manor Academy)

Parents/Coven leaders

FRANCIS (32) (loves his adopted children, and turned them because he wants his daughter back) (he donated the school library which is called The Zelda and Francis Fitzgerald Library.

ZELDA (32) (was and kind of still is, depressed because of the loss of her and Francis' daughter but got better after getting to raise Edgar and Lucy, she just wants to see them happy)

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd #ranpoe fanfic #bsd ranpoe #ranpoe #bsd twilight saga au #The Cask of Manhasset #bsd twilight au

[clairelsonao3]

15 Questions Tag Game

If I do one tag game a day, maybe I can get caught up by the end of the summer! 😅

Thanks to @enne-uni whose post is here and @tabswrites whose post is here!

Rules: answer the questions below as yourself and/or your OC.

I've already answered for myself in an earlier post, so I'm going to quiz my two MCs from Good Slaves Never Break the Rules together.

1. Are you named after anyone?

Him: Um, I'll have to get back to you on that.

Her: My paternal grandfather was named Louis and my maternal grandfather was named Daniel, so I'm Louisa Danielle.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Him: I pretty much stopped crying around four or five. As a slave, you learn early on that crying won't help and usually only makes things worse.

Her: Five minutes ago when I dropped my phone.

3. Do you have kids?

Her. No.

Him: Oh, hell, no.

Her: But you're open to it someday, right?

Him: Uh, let's talk about this later.

4. Do you use sarcasm?

They both look at each other and laugh.

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Him: Whether they're a slave or not — that's kind of important. After that, I pay attention to the way they speak and carry themselves, and whether I think they can be trusted — or manipulated. If it comes to that!

Her: Their eyes. And whether they seem kind.

6. What's your eye color?

Him: I believe it was once described as "somewhere between amber and gold."

Her: Gray.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Him: Scary movies.

Her: Happy endings.

8. Any special talents?

Him: Where do I start? Science of course, but also languages, music, mechanics, computer coding, acting, rhetorical persuasion ...

Her: Oh come on, you're making me feel bad.

Him: Now I'll do yours. Compassion, courage, problem-solving, standing up for what's right ...

Her: I feel better now.

9. Where were you born?

Him: Luxembourg City.

Her: Phoenix, Arizona.

10. What are your hobbies?

Him: Piano, chess, reading — mostly about science, but I'm discovering literature isn't as pointless as I thought it was. Not like I ever have time for proper hobbies, anyway.

Her: Reading, crossword puzzles, traveling. and back when I could afford it, fashion and shopping.

11. Do you have any pets?

Him: Never, but I've always secretly wanted a dog.

Her: We used to have an English setter named Artemis. She was actually my brother's, but I loved her.

12. What sports do you play/have played?

Him: Growing up, I played football with some of the local kids. Real football, not that weird American football.

Her: Tennis, and I have a sailing certification, though I don't really have the head for knots and rigging. Daddy's been trying to drag me out onto the golf course since I could walk, but I told him I can hold out longer than he can.

13. How tall are you?

Him: 188 centimeters. That's 6'2" for you Americans.

Her: 5'6".

Him: That's 167 centimeters.

Her: Thanks for that.

Him: No problem.

14. Favorite subject in school?

Him: For the sake of this question, let's pretend I went to school. Chemistry, physics, and maths.

Her: English, biology, and French.

15. Dream job?

Him: Rocket scientist.

Her: Brain surgeon.

Both: We're not kidding!

Gently tagging:

@coffeexafterxmidnight @silverslipstream @rubywrite

@romanceandshenanigans Not sure you do tag games, but I'd love to get to know your MCs better if so!

Also OPEN TAG because I don't know who has and hasn't done this yet, or maybe they want to do it for a character they haven't done it for yet!

#15 questions #tag game #gsnbtr #my writing #writeblr

[kunikidas-lost-glasses]

BSD college!AU headcanons pt. 3

Tws: Dazai typical mentions of sewerslide, mention of long term injuries after a car crash, mentions of religious trauma, slight mention of a breakdown

Pairings: Poly DOA + Shibusawa (Shibufyo siglai), Perfect crime trio (Mushiranpoe), Soukoku, Bram/Lovecraft (can be read as Steincraft + Bram tho), slight platonic!Fyozai?, Montcott

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When everything gets too stressful for Mushitaro, he always listens to Elvis Presley songs over headphones to fall asleep (same)

The whole theatere course in which Nikolai is in plans to stay together even after college to perform little plays

They are really good tho so they probably could make money with thier plays

It already happened a few times that Dazai just couldn't put up with the academic stress and expectations aswell as with all his trauma and suicidal thoughts but didn't wanted to "stress Chuuya even more" so he just went to Oda and Ango to thier office and let himself breakdown there while his father figures comforted him

Oda is the very chill easy going professor of the college which nearly everyone loves

Bram is known as the campus vampire bc he's not only pale af but he also sleeps during the day and in lectures, gets productive at night, always dresses like it's the 1800s, mainly wears black and white colored clothes, and comes from a rich family.

Bram's best friend is Aya who goes to the primary school a few streets away from the campus.

They met in a café where Aya walked up to him and kept asking him if he's really a vampire.

After he found out about her abusive father he basically adopted her

He's mostly either annyoed or tired and he always listens to the radio over his tiny pocket radio

Fyodor is a psychology major who minors in something like religion or music.

Fyodor pretty much never sleeps and tends to overwork himself. Nikolai has to wrestle him to bed at like 3am. (Which isn't hard for him/considering how fragile Fyodor is and how tall and trained Nikolai is)

Fyodor admirers Sigma's personality and his innocence since it's something he lost while living on the streets as a teen.

Thanks to his family Fyodor has religious trauma and after some religion lectures his boyfriends have to beat some sense into that so smart but so stupid brain of his. Especially when he starts thinking again that him being gay will bring him to hell.

Fyodor tells everyone who dared to start small talk with him that he only listens to classical music and then proceeds to blast russian rock in his and his boyfriends' dorm.

Sometimes Fyodor has depressive days where he won't even leave the bed. Then Nikolai, Sigma and Shibusawa will stay with him all day, trying to cheer him up, comfort him and help him

On these days even Dazai comes over to thier dorm to check on his oldest friend. He obviously isn't worried or smth or feels bad for him since he knows how such days are. He is and he does

Bram dragged Lovecraft and Steinbeck with him to see the " The Dance of the Vampire"/"The Fearless Vampire Killers" musical at least 4 times already

Poe, Lucy, Louisa, Magret, Nathaniel, Lovecraft, Steinbeck and Mark are all students from america who study overseas and all went to the same high school together so they know each other pretty well

Study sessions with them are pure chaos

Louisa and Poe are some kind of friends and bond over the fact that they are both often too scared to do some normal things which require social interaction

Whenever Bram's legs start to hurt too much, Lovecraft will do anything he can to help boyfriend his dear friend to feel better (As mentioned in my previous posts, Bram can in fact get up and walk around for a bit again but he can't walk for a long time. He can obviously feel his legs and isn't paralyzed but he struggles with pain from the permanent injuries now too)

Poe despairing over Mark's grammar and pronunciations in his writing assignments for thier literature course which he had to proof read on a daily base

Mark is a good writer tho

Ranpo usually wears glasses bc he can't see shit without them

Nikolai loves to burn CDs for his boyfriends

He either burns thier favorite songs or he makes playlists for them in which he puts a lot of work and effort

For some reason, Shibusawa listens to Orchestral Manoeuvers in the dark on daily base

Ranpo often comes to lectures or goes out in general while wearing sweatshirts or vests which he stole from Poe or Mushitaro. They are very oversized but he doesn't actually mind. He likes oversized clothes.

Chuuya always sends cute videos of the animals from the animal shelter where he works and of which he takes care of to Dazai

He also does this often if he has to go to work but knows Dazai is feeling not that well to cheer him up

It nearly always works

Nikolai and Shibusawa both share a deep hate towards Ivan and Ivan hates them both too so Nikolai and Shibusawa made it thier mission to roast him whenever they can while he dramatically talks shit about them or insults them

Louisa and Lucy, the poly doa and Atsushi and Akutagawa have a bunch of fairy lights hanging around in thier dorms which they turn on every evening. Especially in the cold months

Ranpo, Mushitaro and Poe hoard candles and books

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BSD college!AU headcanons pt. 1

BSD college!AU headcanons pt. 2

#bsd college au #bsd college!au #college au #au #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungou gay dogs #soukoku #skk #poly doa #poly decay #shibufyosiglai #mystery trio #perfect crime trio #bsd perfect crime trio #bsd mystery trio #bungou stray dogs hcs #bsd headcanons #bungou stray dogs headcanons #fluff #nikolai gogol #bsd nikolai #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya nakahara #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #bsd ranpo