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melonkooky · 4 years

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love [jeon jungkook]

not requested

word count: 3901

genre: fluff, small angst, slice of life kinda thing, jungkook x reader

warnings: underage drinking, minor cussing

author’s note: i don’t have much to say other than the usual please ignore my mistakes and grammar errors lol. this one shot starts in high school and ends in adulthood, you’ll see what i mean when you read. sorry if this one shot is kind of a mess. but please enjoy it!!

please do not copy my work. but please like and reblog it. thank you!!!!

love (/ləv/) noun - an intense feeling of deep affection

if your mom, or dad, or friend, or anyone that you were close to had told you that you would find the one, that you would meet the love of your life within the next few years, you would have laughed and said, “yeah, right.” hell, you were like most people. you had the mindset that no one would ever love you, that you wouldn’t find someone that you could confide in, that you could love. you were convinced you would be alone.

but then you came across a boy named jeon jungkook. he was in your grade. you recognized him from previous years of school, but never really thought about him, much less looked at him. he was just another student.

but then he seemed to take an interest in you, one fortunate and faithful day. you and him were young, barely starting high school. he was nervous to say the least, but he walked up to you as you were opening your locker. you were shocked, felt shy, wasn’t sure of what to do or how to act. you haven’t really talked to boys.

the awkwardness and shyness went both ways, which ended up strengthening your bond.

you and him clicked and instantly became close friends. you and him were inseparable.

you hid a tiny laugh with the back of your hand, ducking your head down to hide behind the student in front of you.

jungkook next to you was laughing at you, but doing a much better job at hiding his laugh. he was staring at the board, as if he was paying attention to the teacher, but the small smile of his face told another story.

he had just roasted you. you were making fun of his corny jokes, going with the whole “your jokes are dry” scenario. and jungkook, being the young teenager he was, replied with, “you would know. your jokes are like the sahara desert.” it killed you.

only, you and jungkook’s playful bickering were interrupted by the teacher. “jeon jungkook and l/n y/n, do you guys want a seating chart?”

you say up, red faced, trying to hide another smile. “no, mrs. kim.” jungkook replied.

it was even harder after that.

jungkook was your other half. you and him bonded like no other. he was your rock through your hard times.

“i’m so stupid.” you mumbled.

jungkook looked at you with sad, worried eyes. you had skipped school, so naturally he walked to your house afterwards to check on you. he was surprised when he saw you crying. your face was red, eyes puffy, a look of totally hurt and devastation. his heart broke at the sight of his best friend being in so much pain.

“how could i actually like a stupid boy like him.” you continued, harshly rubbing your eyes with your fists.

jungkook gently grabbed your hands. he adjusted his posture on the side of your bed so that he could face you better. he leaned forward, catching your gaze. “he’s a dick.” he said, a serious look on his face.

you suppressed a grin. “he fucking cheated. he said he didn’t even like me in the first place. he just needed some entertainment.”

“and he’s an idiot for doing such a thing to you. do you want me to beat him up for you?”

you heard the joking tone of his voice, but knew fully well how serious he was.

“do you even remember your martial arts lessons?”

“hell yeah i do!” jungkook stood up and got into his stance. you saw how determined he was, but he still looked cute.

jungkook held his fists out in front of him and threw a few punches to the air. “tell me his address. i’ll take him out.” he pursed his lips, throwing another punch.

you bursted out laughing, feeling heavy weight lighten in your chest. you felt like you could breathe, function, and it felt good. you felt better.

jungkook turned as he heard your laughter and smiled, relaxing. he was proud of himself for being able to make you laugh and smile. he made you forget about your ex, even if it was just for a little bit.

love can be many things. it can come in all shapes and forms, no matter the time or place. and you cherished the love you began to feel for your best friend, especially after breaking up with your ex. you held onto it with a tight fist, not wanting to let it go. you just hoped that someday, jungkook would reciprocate it.

you wiggled in your big coat nervously as you walked up to the door belonging to the jeons’. it didn’t matter that it was freezing and snowing outside. you still walked the short distance from your house to jungkook’s, because he had told you he was sick.

you made him some soup - with the help of your mom - and hurried over. you have been there only a few times, so you were nervous. in fact, you felt a bit hot.

you knocked, adjusting yourself grip on the bowl of soup that you had so carefully carried over. a few seconds later, the door swung open, revealing the kind and warm face of his mom. she gasped, eyes sparkling. “y/n!”

your cheeks flushed warm and red. “mrs. jeon.”

“are you here for jungkook?” she asked.

you nodded. “i brought soup.”

“well, come inside, come inside.” she touched your shoulder as she ushered you inside. “it’s freezing.”

you thanked her. once inside, she helped you with your coat and then informed you that the sick boy was upstairs in bed. you hurried upstairs, eager to help your best friend and fellow crush. luckily the soup was still warm.

you knocked and entered, being quiet in case he was sick. but he was awake, and jungkook immediately smiled as he saw you enter. he looked pale, with a hint of red on his nose and cheeks. he seemed shy, probably because of your sudden appearance.

“i brought you some soup.” you presented it to him.

jungkook removed the lid and held it up to his nose. he could smell very well, but he still hummed and smiled warmly. “i can’t really smell it.” he laughed.

you gasped suddenly. “wait, you need a spoon.”

you ran back downstairs, said a hi to mr. jeon, grabbed a spoon, and ran back upstairs. jungkook laughed again, the noise coming from his mouth sounding congested and nasally. “there you go.”

you say on jungkook’s bed as he ate. you and him talked, joking around a bit.

as jungkook sipped the last bit of broth, he turned to place the bowl on his nightstand. you watched him, admiring his side profile. you were head over heels for him, there was no denying that. if only jungkook could see the way you looked at him. the love in your eyes alone could for sure tell him.

you had been staring at jungkook. you hadn’t realized. you had zoned out, and jungkook’s cheeks were darkening and turning red, not because he was sick. he was blushing. “y/n?”

“ah, sorry.” your own cheeks burned.

he smiled. “what’s on your mind?”

“just,” you paused, unsure of what to tell him. should you lie, make an excuse, or tell him? “thinking.” you finally said.

jungkook shifted his gaze away, making your feel nervous. why did he seem disappointed?

“well, you shouldn’t stay for long, y/n.” you felt a slight pang, like a needle poking your heart. but he continued, “i don’t want you to get sick because of me. then i would have to take care of you.”

although, i wouldn’t mind that, you thought. “oh, yeah.” you hesitated, glimpsing at jungkook’s soft gaze, before standing up.

you reached for your bowl, but was surprised when jungkook grabbed your wrist, holding you steady. then, he sat up and pressed his lips to your cheek. it was a quick, simple peck, and yet it was enough to make your heart race.

jungkook released your wrist, just as you turned to look at him. the warmth from his skin lingered. it felt like his fingers were still wrapped around your arm, a ghostly feeling. he was blushing and wouldn’t meet your eyes.

you weren’t sure of what to say.

“you’re responsible if i get sick, jeon jungkook.” you said, a teasing tone of voice.

“i know.” he replied, smiling.

eventually, the love you felt for jungkook was practically crawling underneath your skin. it was begging to be let out, released, to not be kept a secret anymore. it started to control what you do, both out of fear of hurting jungkook and out of fear of ruining the special relationship you and him had. but one day, you couldn’t keep it inside you anymore.

you and jungkook were chilling in your bedroom one afternoon. you and him had walked home from school. naturally, after being assigned a group project, you and jungkook were partners. and jungkook wanted to come over. of course, though, you should’ve known that he would get distracted.

jungkook was laying on your bed, his head hanging off the edge just slightly, enough to see what you were doing while you sat on the floor. you had your laptop in front of you. papers and notebooks were spread out. as you worked, jungkook made comments, watched, and ate all your snacks. maybe he was a little too comfortable.

he hummed along to the music in the background, singing along during the chorus. it would have been funny when he purposefully sang at higher or lower notes or botched the lyrics, but you were staring at him. you had been working so hard, slightly annoyed at jungkook for not helping. but in the end, you still had plenty of time to work on the project with jungkook. he knew that, and that was why he wasn’t paying attention.

perhaps it was because you already had so much love for him. but staring at him always entranced you. it was those candid moments. jungkook didn’t know that you were staring, so he continued being goofy and throwing snacks into his mouth.

suddenly, an all too familiar urge overcame you. one that always came when you were around him, in moments like this. you sighed and shook your head. now wasn’t the time.

but now you were feeling anxious, or like it was urgent, like you needed to fulfill your urge. but you were scared. what if jungkook didn’t like you back? you were on the verge of being overwhelmed by emotions. thank god jungkook wasn’t paying attention.

however, you made the mistake of glancing at him again. his skin, his jawline, his doe-like eyes, his adam’s apple, his lips… now was your chance.

without another moment of hesitation and overthinking, you turned and stood up on your knees, leveling your head with jungkook’s. he looked at you, confusion written over his face, a snack between his fingers. “y/n-”

and you pressed your lips to his after cupping his cheeks. you cut him off, afraid of what he was going to say. but then again, you couldn’t anticipate what he would say after. maybe this was a mistake.

sure, the kiss was a little out of the ordinary, like the one kiss from the movie spiderman, but it still made your nerves quiver, your insides to twist, your heart clench and race, this was something that you needed to do. it lifted weight off of your shoulders, it needed to be done if you ever were going to live.

you pulled away, avoiding his gaze, and sat down again. you were staring at your laptop, but you weren’t thinking about the project. jungkook was all over your mind. you wondered if the room suddenly felt hot, constricting. your mind was overthinking. what had you just done? were you going to lose your best friend? no, jungkook wouldn’t do that. things might, at least, be awkward.

you shook your head, finally hearing the bed creak behind you. jungkook had sat up and was cautiously moving towards the floor beside you. his cheeks were bright red, and he seemed nervous. his legs were crossed underneath him with his hands tucked in the middle. you felt ashamed in a way. but why were all your thoughts negative? you had to be positive, that’s something that your mom had been drilling into your head since you started high school.

“y/n.” his voice was calm, quiet, soothing.

you looked at him, unsure of what he was going to say.

he smiled, “spiderman.”

you poorly suppressed a laugh, a whine leaving your throat. you covered your face with your hands. jungkook wondered whether you were crying or laughing, or maybe both, but it was funny to him. “hey! why are you acting like this?”

he reached for your hands and pulled them from your face. your face was as red as his was, but you still looked cute in his eyes. you were beyond flustered.

jungkook laughed before leaning forward and kissing your lips again. things were definitely different. and things were working out much better than you were thinking. you were relieved.

after finally confessing your feelings for each other, nothing much changed between you two, other than now a lot of encounters had more physical affection.

jungkook seemed a lot happier after you and him started dating. your friends, as well as some of jungkook’s friends, would come and report to you that he was often smiling to himself, or laughing… basically he looked like he was in love, and they knew it was because of you.

to you, that was love. even when you weren’t around, he was still thinking about you.

but of course, with every relationship, there were a few downsides. you and jungkook had fought a few times before, before you and him started dating. but your first fight as a couple was different.

there was a party going on at a friend’s house. you wanted to go, as you weren’t really one to go out and hang out with people, especially at a party. you knew there was going to be some trouble involved, like underage drinking, as well as other “things”. you told yourself the moment you felt uncomfortable, you would leave.

you invited jungkook, since you were slightly scared of not going without him. you knew he would watch over you and keep you safe if need be. although, when you asked jungkook if he wanted to go, he seemed a little anxious.

“i don’t know,” he had said. “i don’t really think it’s right to go.”

you knew where he was coming from, but your mind was set. you wanted to go. “please, jungkook. i don’t want to go without you.”

“i don’t feel comfortable going to this party. we could get into a ton of trouble. if something happens, it could affect us for life.” you knew what he was talking about, but you were certain that none of those things wouldn’t happen, at least not to you, especially if jungkook were there. but jungkook was adamant about not going.

“fine. i’ll go with kensey or something.” you said, a little annoyed.

jungkook sighed, watching as you stood up from the table and walked away. he didn’t want to end the conversation like that, it wasn’t his intention.

hours later, you were arriving at the party with kensey. she was ecstatic that you asked if you could tag along, expecting you to be with jungkook. you told her everything, and she too understood where he was coming from, but kensey told you that it was good that you wanted to get out and try something new.

so, you and her hung out with some friends and partied like high school students did on a friday night. only there came one particular activity that you were practically pressured to participate in. it was a drinking game, and you didn’t want to drink as it was illegal, but many insisted that it would be okay and that it wouldn’t get too far.

in summary, you got drunk. and drunk you were yelling at yourself for drinking, talking about getting in trouble with your parents. your friends laughed about it, until kensey wondered if that was your cue to leave.

while kensey was dragging you out of the house, telling you to lean on her, you had called jungkook. “jungkook.” you slurred. “why aren’t at the party?”

he sounded disappointed, but you didn’t pay any attention. “y/n, why do you sound like that? don’t tell me…”

you pouted. “please don’t be mad at me.”

kensey glanced at you, before taking your phone. “hi, this is kensey. i’m taking her home, don’t worry about her.”

you don’t remember much about what she said after that because you were suddenly thirsty and tired, all at the same time. luckily for kensey, you weren’t too much to handle. you still tried your best to understand what was going on and where you were going.

by the time you and kensey reached your house, jungkook was standing by the front door. “i can take her.” he said.

jungkook bid a goodbye to kensey and helped you inside, quietly as to not wake up your parents. he was thankful that you stayed quiet until he brought you into your bedroom. “jungkook,” you spoke, “when you did you get here?”

he was still disappointed in you, “just now. kensey brought you home.”

you sighed, sitting up to look at him. “why are you standing all the way over there?” you pouted.

jungkook didn’t reply for a while. his jaw clenched and unclenched as he wondered what he should say, how he should react… “i’m mad at you.” he finally said.

you scoffed and rolled your eyes. “why?”

“why? you got drunk, y/n.” he was close to yelling, but quickly changed his tone to a whisper. he was worried about your parents waking up.

“i didn’t mean too! it was an accident.”

“how do you accidentally get drunk?”

you shrugged, cheeks going red. “i don’t know. my friends said everything would be fine. they said it wouldn’t hurt.”

your boyfriend sighed tiredly, feeling exhausted. he would have been fast asleep, seeing as it was after midnight, but he was worried about you, and waiting for a text that said that you got home safely. you calling him nearly scared him, until he heard your drunken voice.

“y/n, you can’t let friend pressure you into doing those things.”

“i knew what i was doing, jungkook. you’re not my parent. i don’t need you to constantly be by my side, watching over me like a hawk. i was completely safe and okay.” you spoke harshly.

jungkook was hurt by that statement. he pursed his lips, averting his gaze to the rug on your floor. with a slight nod of his head, he said, “alright then. good night.” and turned to leave.

your eyes widened. you immediately regretted saying those things. you didn’t mean them. you had hurt jungkook’s feelings, and now you were worried about him leaving. without any further hesitation, you stumbled off of your bed, nearly falling, and grabbed his hand. jungkook was surprised by how fast you had moved, especially in your state. he turned as he released your doorknob.

you looked up at him, eyes full of regret. “i’m sorry.”

jungkook relaxed and wrapped his arms around you. he rested his chin on top of your head, even placing a little kiss on it. “it’s okay.” he sighed. “i just can’t not think of all the things that could go wrong at parties. someone could have hurt you, taken advantage of you, you could do something you’ll regret,” there was a long, heavy pause. “someone hotter than me could have stolen your heart.”

you laughed, it was a small, still sad laugh, but it lightened the mood. “there is no such person that is hotter than you.”

he laughed too, holding you closer. after sharing a silent, intimate moment, jungkook suddenly pulled away. “now go shower. you stink.”

“hey!”

who would’ve thought that you and jungkook would last so long, to have such a strong bond that enabled you and jungkook to stay together.

now, many years later, here you were. your life felt complete. you felt satisfied. you have a job, you have a house, you have a husband, and you have a child.

“mamma, mamma.” your daughter called.

she jumped onto the bed, climbing between you and jungkook. jungkook was still asleep, whilst you woke up as soon as your daughter opened the bedroom door. you sighed into the pillow. “my love, what’s got you so energetic in the morning?”

she laughed. “i’m hungry.”

you sighed again. “you are just like your father.”

“what about me?” jungkook asked, his voice deep and laced with sleep still.

“she got her appetite from you.”

“that’s a compliment.”

you rolled your eyes and sat up. your daughter wrapped her arms around you, climbing into your lap, before poking jungkook’s back. “daddy, get up.”

he flipped over finally. despite having bedhead that covered a part of his eye, and a lopsided, tired smile, he still looked attractive. he reached out, poking the little girl in her stomach. she wiggled around in your arms, her dark hair becoming even messier than before. her laugh was music to your ears. it was amazing how much she looked like jungkook.

“alright, i guess i’ll start breakfast.” you said, removing your daughter from your lap.

she immediately climbed into jungkook’s arm, laughing as he tickled her some more. you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. you watched them with a fond, loving look in your eye.

sure you had dreams of what your family was going to look like, but you never could feel what having a family would be like. it was until you started one with the man of your life that you felt special, like your family was special. and that was the beauty of it.

love didn’t feel anything like how you felt now in this moment.

you didn’t feel love until you were happy with yourself, until you were successful, until you met the love of your life, your soulmate, until you brought a bundle of joy into the world.

that was love.

suddenly, you were brought out of your head, your thoughts interrupted. you saw jungkook looking at you. he was standing up, bending over slightly to look at you. your daughter was no where to be found.

“huh?”

he grinned and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “i asked if you wanted me to cook breakfast.”

you shook your head, hurrying out of bed. “i don’t trust you in my kitchen.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

you turned and looked at him, a teasing smile forming on your face. “run bts! 2017.” then you made a dramatic pause. “episode twenty.”

jungkook’s face reddened, recalling the moment when he showed what he had attempted to make. the food was stuck to the plate. in fact, he was able to flip the plate upside down, and the food remained still. it was a funny moment, to say the least.

#bts #btsboulangerie #bts jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts oneshot #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts fluff #jungkook one shot #kpop

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writinglionqueen · 5 years

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Something I wanted to share since it was pride month; my coming out story.

For the record, you as an individual do not have to come out if you are not safe/comfortable coming out. It takes a lot to come out sometimes and, sometimes, staying in the closet is safer than coming out. Do so when you are safe. With that, this can be long and emotional for some so put your mental health first if you feel like coming out stories can be triggering for some so please don’t read if it might. There’s not a lot of bad in this story, but I don’t know how others may perceive my story. (Also, as a note, a lot of my language is kinda informal in terms of finding all this out...that’s kinda the point. I was learning who I was throughout the entirety of my life and this is kinda how I rationalized who I was and how I observed everything and how I came to terms with it)

If you didn’t read my header, I’m bi. I’ve been out since 2016. I will explain the process of me figuring it out and how I told everyone.

So, I think I knew I was different from elementary school. I would call myself a tomboy and be “one of the guys.” I didn’t like the things the other girls liked; i.e. Hannah Montana, Jonas Brothers, and Justin Beiber. Instead, I always played with the boys (this could also be because I couldn’t find a girl who was into the same things as me). I would play kickball (even if I sucked). I would play Pokemon and pretend to be superheroes with the three boys I hung out with. Elementary school was also the first time I remembered WWE being a tiny portion of my life. I would pretend to be Kelly Kelly and pretend to beat up the boys (we obviously couldn’t wrestle on the blacktop so we pretended to fight bad guys as WWE people). But I was always that girl who didn’t like to be girly. Not by a long shot so I associated myself with boys and kinda had the thought process that overly girly-girls had cooties (yikes to little me).

In elementary school, I was pretty sure my art teacher was “different.” What I mean by this, and my twin and I talked about it a little more recently in life than when we were in elementary school, because she had incredibly short hair, kinda like a boy style. My twin had recently told me that she doesn’t ever remember out art teacher ever referring to her SO other than partner. Looking back at her now, I am pretty sure she was/is a lesbian. I liked her though. She was creative and made me laugh during the scathes amount of art classes we had with her. (So she could technically be my first interaction with a lesbian. I can’t confirm or deny since I’ve been trying to find her on social media)

Moving into middle school, this was technically my first real experience around a lesbian. There was this girl who was the only one out. She was very much the “tom-boy” persona. As I knew of her in middle school, she had a girlfriend in the 8th grade who was super femme. During the 8th grade, one of my friends decided to have a sleepover and invite the two girls (even though she kinda grumbled about how she didn’t want the two alone.) So at the sleepover, all the girls were supposed to sleep in the large family sized tent they had set up for us. We hung out in it until the early morning, until then some girls wanted to sleep while others played truth and are. Let’s just say, they dared the lesbian couple to make out, they did and it ended with the tom-boy lesbian fingering her femme girlfriend. It didn’t confuse me, but it did make me really think about those kinds of things. This is when sexuality was technically first introduced to me because I think I remember being turned on by what happened.

In late elementary school to middle school. I had a downstairs neighbor who became my friend since she was a year older than me. I think I developed a crush on her since I would become quite jealous if her time wasn’t spent with me. I also thought about holding her hand and liking her. (I didn’t recognize that I liked her until recently when I thought about how long I’ve been bi.)

In high school, I remember there was this dancer who I technically recognized as being my first actual girl crush. I say this because I remember telling my twin one time that I thought she was pretty and my twin kinda laughed at me. She was one of those popular chicks and she kinda treated me like...I had a mental/learning problem (a lot of people I think did but that was because I was quiet and I think I asked a lot of stupid questions). She was the first I technically and literally thought about in a romantic/sexual way. But I never dated girls (and I still haven’t. I’ve dated two guys but...I wasn’t attracted to either at all)

Within this time, I discovered Tumblr and the ease of finding 18+ content when I shouldn’t have. (Most of us been there). With this content, though, this was the only way I discovered and explored my sexuality. (But with the limitations that I only got the sexual lens of wlw and mlm and not the romantic side of things, but for those who don’t know, many LGBTQ+ individuals struggle explorations due to the lack of resources so most of us figured out things through porn and other 18+ content). It technically helped me figure out masturbation as a woman and what I was attracted to and what I wasn’t but I always felt ashamed by it because I knew if I was caught I’d probably be shamed by my mother (more so for the 18+ content and masturbating but not the sexuality part). I think my twin is the only person I’ve ever told that I had a crush on a girl at this time. A lot of my friend group in high school (mainly those a year older) were queer in a way or an ally. They made me feel loved as I learned new terms within my high school years of the LGBT. So, closer to the end of my senior year, I knew I liked girls and I liked guys.

For me, I never was afraid to come out. My mom/family had never given me a reason to be afraid of having a different sexuality. I’ve heard my mom verbally praise LGBTQ+ people before I came out.

So when I moved to college, grew a little on my own, I knew who I was. During national coming out day of 2016, I made a quick Facebook post saying that “I’m pretty sure I’m bi.”

I didn't feel afraid, but I was nervous about the reactions of my family and friends that I tuned in on the comments and likes and loves my post got. No one was mean or upset or called me names. The reaction of my mom was not something I was thinking about. I wasn’t dreading it. I wasn’t terrified to hear what she had to say. She never had given me a reason to be afraid.

Instead, she told me she was proud. That she wasn’t mad or upset that I was me. And that she still loved me no matter what.

So it was out there that I was bi.

When I went home for Thanksgiving break, closer to that time, we went out to eat sushi closer to the end of it. The topic of relationships and stuff came about. I think my parents were discussing with my younger sisters that they just wanted to make sure my little sisters were safe. I remember distinctly that my mom said she didn’t have to worry about me, but she also didn’t know if I had a boyfriend or girlfriend where I was staying for college. it made my heart full to hear my mom say that and acknowledge it out loud.

During the summer between my sophomore and junior year, something went sour. I don’t know why it came up, why it needed to come up but my mom was talking to my sisters and me about the things she technically found annoying that we do.

My fault in her eyes is that I’m very opinionated and I have the egotistical mindset that I’m always right. (I am opinionated, I’ll give her that, but I never ever said out loud that I think I’m always right. The air that I probably radiate this mindset I will admit to but) In lieu of this...she says out loud, that I am not bisexual. My heart shatters and I close myself off.

Her reasoning for telling me this is to not think of my sexuality as being the only part of me. I didn’t think I ever gave the air that my sexuality is my only identifier but she wanted to talk to me that it isn’t my only identity.

But, she also states that I can’t claim myself to be bisexual because I’ve never experienced sex with either gender (a surprise from your girl, I’m a virgin). She negates my sexuality because she feels as though she has more life experience to tell me that I am not bisexual, just bicurious. Wrong. Big wrong. (During my sophomore year, my mom and my stepdad cheated on each other, which lead to us finding out my mother is also bisexual but she could never be upfront about it because of our family friends) But, in her eyes, I can not claim my own sexuality because of my virginity to either sex and because she, as an older bi woman, says so because of her experience.

Let me tell you, because of her telling me this, I had the worst breakdown I’ve ever experience in my life. We had the talk again with my stepdad (he wasn’t present for the first time) in which case he reiterates what my mom told me. I can’t be bisexual because I never had sex before. But both were trying to just tell me to not let my sexuality be my only part of my identity that I cling to.

But as he was saying this, I got a panic attack and I didn’t want to listen to a word he had to say and I’m muttering I don’t want to hear it as I basically sob in my living room. Yeah...that’s the worst feeling I’ve ever felt in my life and I still think about it to this day.

Because of my parents basically trying to negate my sexuality and not let me identify myself (I would rather not say that I know I like girls because I fantasize about them in various scenarios [pretty sure my mom or my stepdad asked what I’d do if I didn’t like girls as I thought...as if it’ll change]), I basically had shut down that part of myself and being a LGBTQ+ voice in front of them.

On social media, however, I’m vocal about LGBTQ+ related things...but, sometimes, I feel like I’m being/claiming bisexual to spite them. And I don’t want to feel like I am. That’s not fair to me.

Sometimes, I fear wearing my LGBTQ+ Balor shirt in public...sometimes, I still fear my mom will not revert back to the comment she made about me liking boys and girls.

I never confronted her that these emotions are things I still face even though it’s been almost a year since my mom had said that to me. I feel like I overreacted on everything but I’m still stagnant on my sexuality since I get to decide who I am and what I identify as. As I feel that everyone should be able to do.

I wrote this technically for myself, so I can understand that hey, maybe I knew I was bi all along and never really knew it (which….I felt like I figured it out).

To those who are closeted, to those who are out and know the feeling, and to those who are not LGBTQ+ identifying: you never stop coming out.

I still have to remind some people that I also like girls and that my framework isn’t only hung up on men. Sometimes, I have to remind people that f*g and f*ggot are words I will not tolerate being said (even though I’ve never been personally bullied with them). I still have to remind people that EVERYONE experiences their coming out differently and that they are still trying to figure themselves out daily. I have to remind people that there are those who are fluid about their identity and that there are those who are stagnant on how they identify themselves as. These are things I still have to remind people because the world doesn’t necessarily hand this info out to everyone. That needs to change.

I wanted to share my story on the last day of pride months because....why not?

I’ve never shared it before and coming to terms with my sexuality and what it means to me has helped me processed a lot of how my past has shaped my future and who I am as a person today.

By the way, I do love my mom. I really do. I feel like she messes up a lot when it comes to a lot of different things.

Hopefully, I can tell her how much I still hurt when it comes to hearing her words in my head. Hopefully, I can do this soon, because that pain eats away at me sometimes. Her words haunt me and make me doubt myself and make me ask myself if I truly know who I really am or do other people know me better. (They don’t but those are the questions I may bring up to her if I ever want to talk about this)

I’m bisexual and that is not going to change or be vilified by someone else’s experiences on my identity to fit their means or their experiences. And if I’m wrong, hey I’m wrong (I’m not though. Not this time.)

So take my story as you will. Comment if you like if you can compare my story to yours of if you want to share your experiences and hardships, go for it. I just needed to get this off my chest. And, hey, I’m down to hear other people’s life experiences in terms of how they found out they were LGBTQ+ and how others received them. Or if anyone as kind words to me, I’d take that as well.

Thanks to any who read this and have shown me support.

I love you all.

-Your friendly bisexual writer, Bri

#personal #bisexuality #sexuality #my coming out story #eh

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canyousevmyheavydirtysoul · 7 years

Text

Love. (Gerard Way x Reader)

Request by chemical_killer13 on Wattpad: Yea, the reader comes home one day and gee Frank Mikey and Ray (the reader and gee live together) and there watching something on the laptop and the reader gos to the bedroom and works on there article (the reader is a journalist for AP magazine) then a little while later the readed hears the guys talking and they wore actually watching porn and the reader starts to cry and think that there not good enough for Gerard so they go into the bathroom and cut themselves then Gerard finds the reader in the bathroom and tells the reader that they guys made him watch it

I left out the self-harm bit of the request, but I hope you enjoy it. Also, requests are now closed. I want to focus on some of my own writing ideas for a while. x

Love.

What exactly did 'love' mean?

To most people, it means companionship. Trust, selflessness, support, adoration.

It meant the same thing to you at one point too.

But that had changed.

Then, to you, 'love' meant heartache. Tears, suffering, self-doubt, annihilation.

Yeah, being cheated on my every single romantic partner one has ever had really takes its toll on how they perceive 'love'.

The last one was the hardest. You'd been together for 4 years, engaged for 2 of those 4. You were going to spend the rest of your lives together, completely in love.

Or so you thought.

Your fiancé seemed to have other plans.

The memory is still as clear in your mind as a perfect summer day. Now, given your history of cheating boyfriends, you'd walked in on numerous sexual encounters between them and random women, but none of them had crushed you as much as this one had.

Maybe it was to do with the fact that you were about to marry this person, become unified 'till death do you part.

Maybe it was the fact that the other woman was your therapist. The one you poured all the contents of your heart out too, including the insecurities and worthlessness you'd developed as a result of being constantly cheated on.

Or maybe it was both. These were two of the people you'd trusted most, and they both betrayed you.

Needless to say, what followed wasn't pretty. You were never a violent - or even confrontational - person, yet, seeing that scene play out in front of your very eyes, you snapped.

No, you didn't kill anyone. (As much as you would've liked to.) You didn't even seriously injure anyone, but you did make sure that they knew precisely how heartbroken and devastated you felt.

Understandably, after that experience, you'd given up. You'd given up on love. On ever finding someone you could give yourself over to completely, and who wouldn't hurt you. It broke your heart that you would never have the type of love you'd dreamed about ever since you were little, but the constant soul-crushing heartache had finally become too much, and you finally became utterly broken.

And then you met Gerard.

From the moment you two had met at the quaint local coffee shop in your hometown, Gerard was wholly taken with you. There was something about the way you sat in the corner booth, hidden from plain sight and immersed in your writing while nursing a vanilla latte... he didn't know why, but he immediately felt drawn to you. And from the minute he shyly greeted you, and you looked up at him, eyes twinkling, he knew that he had to make you his.

Obviously, you were more than apprehensive to get involved with Gerard - you were broken, after all. Yes, you had felt drawn to him too, but you tried your upmost to shove those feelings into the deepest, darkest corner of your heart. Of course, it didn't work. You tried to explain to Gerard that you weren't interested, but he was persistent. Not in the wrong way, though. You'd made it clear to him that you had no desire whatsoever to get into a romantic relationship. And he respected that - but he wasn't about to let you just walk out of his life. No way in hell.

You spent a lot of time together after that. Most of that time consisted of you going over to Gerard's house, or vice versa, and you'd put in a couple of old records while you sat in blissful silence, you working on your article, and him on his comics or art; it was your favourite time. Just being in each other's company brought comfort and ease to the both of you. Gerard said it was because the two of you meshed together so perfectly. Your quirks complimented his quirks.

Your broken parts fit his broken parts.

Sometimes, Gerard would take you to art galleries. The two of you would wonder around for hours, appreciating the art. When you'd walk past a particularly interesting piece, the two of you would sit down on a nearby bench and discuss it. The way Gerard's hypnotically beautiful eyes sparkled and his entire body perked up made your heart swell, and you found yourself - despite the desperate protests of the little voice at the back of your head - slowly but surely falling for him.

After two months and tons of denial, you admitted to yourself that you were in love with Gerard.

You hated it.

You hated yourself for letting it get to this point. You hated that you had let this man in. You hated that you fell in love with him.

You hated that you knew you couldn't leave without him.

Gerard was different. Sure, you told yourself that about every guy you fell for. But Gerard was different. He was... good. He made you feel important. Cared for. Worthwhile. Beautiful.

Loved.

Gerard didn't understand why you were so angry about loving him, especially when he assured you that he loved you too. You told him that it was because you didn't want to be in love. You didn't want to open yourself up to someone.

You didn't want to get hurt.

He would never hurt you. That's what he told you, and that's what you believed. Even so, it still took a long while before you were finally comfortable enough with doing the whole 'love' thing again, and start dating Gerard. And even when you did start dating, and even though he was the epitome of the perfect boyfriend, you still felt anxious.

You weren't good enough for him. You weren't good enough for anyone. That's why they all cheated on you. Left you. You weren't good enough. You were damaged, broken and just not deserving of someone like Gerard. For God's sake, you couldn't even be intimate with him without bursting into tears, worried that he's going to leave you.

But you loved him, and you were terrified of losing him, so you never voiced your anxieties. But they were there, and they were more evident than ever.

"Dude, I'm telling you, this is the hottest one I've seen."

Gerard snorted as he rolled his eyes at the short guitarist. "Wow, how many times have we heard that one, huh guys?" he smirked, looking at Ray and Mikey, who chuckled in agreement.

"Alright, fine," Frank groaned, "This is the hottest one I've seen so far." He sat down on the sofa, pulled up the video on his laptop, and patted the empty spots on the sofa, encouraging his friends to join him.

Mikey and Ray looked at each other, sharing a shrug before shuffling over, taking their seats next to Frank. They all turned to glance expectantly at Gerard, who was still leaning against the entryway, arms folded.

"Nah, I'm good," he said.

Frank tilted back his head and let out another annoyed groan. "Just come watch."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Uh, besides the fact that it's extremely weird to watch porn with my baby brother and two best friends?" Gerard sassed, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not in the mood."

"Yeah, well, if I was dating someone who looked like (Y/N), I'm sure I'd never feel the need to watch porn either," Ray sniggered, earning giggles from the other two boys as Gerard glared daggers at him.

"Make one more comment about how hot she is, any of you. I dare you," Gerard warned.

"Sorry," Ray grinned.

"But seriously," Frank leaned forward. "How is she?" He winked suggestively.

"That's none of your business."

"So, bad then?"

"No," Gerard frowned, before sighing and running a hand through his hair. "She's... she's fine."

"Fine?" Frank raised an eyebrow.

"Well, we haven't really done anything... intense, yet," Gerard admitted, shifting uncomfortably. "I mean," he sighed, shaking his head at the fact that he was actually telling the guys about the most intimate moments of your relationship, "we've only slept together twice."

"Twice?" Frank gawked. "But you've been together for, like, 6 months."

"I'm aware of that," Gerard huffed.

"Wow." The boys all widened their eyes, sharing looks.

Frank cleared his throat before speaking again. "You must be very frustrated, then."

"Eh."

The younger boy held out the laptop to his friend. "I think this can help with that."

You entered the house; the boys didn't even notice you come in, they were too immersed in whatever it is they were watching on the laptop.

Placing your coat on one of the hooks on the wall, you quietly made your way to the living room where they sat. Gerard had the laptop on his lap, and the others were craning their necks, trying to get a good look at the screen. Once you got near enough to see what they were watching, you discovered that they weren't just watching some random YouTube video or a movie. It was porn.

Covering your mouth so that your gasp wouldn't be audible, you slowly backtracked and softly climbed the stairs, your mind racing.

Running into your bathroom, you closed the door, a sharp thud echoing all around. You moved to the mirror, glancing at your tear-stained reflection as you clutched onto the sink.

You knew it. You knew that you weren't good enough for Gerard. But you couldn't even blame him for watching porn. I mean, you had only had sex with him twice in the six months you'd been together, and you'd been so emotional both times that you were sure it was an awful experience for him. And he was a man, after all. He had needs. And you couldn't fulfil those needs; you weren't good enough.

You were full-on sobbing by the time Gerard entered the bathroom, and his heart broke a little seeing you like that. He immediately engulfed you in his embrace, stroking your hair and shushing you.

"I'm sorry," you choked out, still crying, "I'm sorry I'm not good enough."

"My love, you are good enough."

"No, I'm not! I'm a fucking mess! You have to go and watch porn to get off because I can't have fucking sex with you without crying like a baby!"

"(Y/N), look at me," Gerard pulled back and cupped your face in his hands, looking at you with a serious expression, "The only reason I watched it is because the boys wouldn't get off my case about it. You're perfect. And I love you more than I've ever loved anything, or ever will love anything."

"How can you? I'm broken."

"Because so am I."

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

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jiilys · 7 years

Text

with you, i aim to please

APRIL JILY CHALLENGE: @jiilys vs @petalstofish

‘we have rival camp cabins and my cabin is totally gonna kick your cabin’s ass in the talent show’

(thanks to @bantasticbeasts and @alrightpotter who suffered with me. love the #crew)

Sirius rapped loudly on the window and then without waiting for an answer, barged into the cabin and hit Annabel Stevens in the back with the door.

“James yo- oh shit, sorry- you’re never going to fucking believe this. Evans is here.”

James, sitting on the floor and surrounded by children, said “Piss off,” then realized where he was and added, “…is not something we should be saying at camp.” He turned back to Sirius, “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Just saw her in the girls loos and she gave me the finger.”

“Why were you in the girl’s loos?” asked a child whose name James had forgotten.

“Cleaning.” both James and Sirius said at once. “She gave you the finger?” James questioned, grinning.

“And told me I was a sack of toenails.” Sirius rummaged around in his pockets and pulled out a cigarette. “It’s absolutely her.”

“You can’t smoke in here.” Annabel Stevens told him, indignantly. Sirius stuck his hand out the still open door.

Tommy Elliot, high off hearing so many swear words in succession, piped up and asked, “Whose Evans?”

“Evans! Fancy seeing you here!” James exclaimed, trying to look like he hadn’t asked thirteen people where she was.

Lily, standing in a field with gumboots on trying to show eight uninterested children what a dragonfly was, thought about throwing herself into the lake. “Well if it isn’t Satan’s moldy bread bin.” She said, and James smirked.

“Charming. Gang, meet Evans. Evans, meet my kids.”

“My condolences on your counselor.” Lily offered before turning to Sirius. “Black. Where are your kids.”

“Bathroom.”

“All eight of them?” Lily asked.

“They drink a lot of water.”

James, feeling like the interaction had veered away from him somewhat, said “me and Lily went to camp together when we were your guy’s age. We knew each other quite well.”

“Were you boyfriend and girlfriend?” Adelaide Kipling demanded immediately.

“No, fortunately I have taste.” Lily responded.

“Not in clothes. Your shirt looks like it was pulled out of my dad’s wastepaper bin.” James said.

Lily folded her arms. “Your dad’s obviously misusing his wastepaper bin seeing as this shirt is made of fabric and not paper.”

“Don’t lecture me about recycling.”

“Somebody’s got to. The Planet is dying.”

“Your chat just keeps getting better and better Evans.”

“Rather like your chances of being strangled by a disappointed sexual partner.”

“I hate you.” James said, conversationally. “Also, your kid is about to fall in the lake.”

“What?” Lily protested, and turned just in time to see Jonathan Sykes hit the water.

“I can’t believe you’re the adult here.” Oliver Callaghan stated, rather cuttingly, and James threw a marshmallow at him.

The story of what happened sounded very traumatic in James’ head, but as he repeated it to eight eleven year olds around a campfire, it seemed dramatically less so.

“That’s stupid.” Elisa Mortman said, flatly. Several people nodded. James was appalled.

“I think you’re missing the point” he said, “I didn’t win because of her. I was robbed.” They were all staring at him. The second-hand embarrassment was almost palpable.

“Remembering the worst thing anyone’s ever done to me-“

“Oh my god-“

“-doesn’t make me petty, it makes me wise.”

Lily sat forward in disbelief. “If the worst thing anyone’s ever done to you is pull the fire alarm while you were weirdly shuffling around on stage-“

“I was dancing” James objected.

“You were dying.” Lily corrected, leaning back and eating a spoonful of cornflakes. “you clearly got up there and had nothing planned.” This was true, but enough years had gone by that James could pretend otherwise.

“This year I’m going to be standing by the fire alarm, making sure you don’t sabotage another child’s performance.”

“You know there’s more than one fire alarm, right?” Lily swallowed more cornflakes.

“Of course I did.” James lied, “Sirius and Remus are going to monitor the other ones.”

“What about me?” asked Peter through a mouthful of toast.

“You can’t monitor the fire alarm Pete. Someone has to watch the kids.”

Lily smirked. “Look at you, thinking of the children.”

“I’m always thinking of the children Evans.”

“Oh yeah?” Lily pointed at a kid two seats away from them, “What’s his name?”

“Steven.” James bluffed.

“Wrong.” Lily said, “it’s David.”

The child- who was called neither- got up to get more toast. Remus thumped down his coffee and said, “His name is Aaron.” It was not.

“I could push you down here.” James said casually, as both he and Lily stood at the top of the mudslide. Behind them, Oliver Callaghan was whining about how people kept cutting in line while Amad Presh put on his goggles. Their camp groups got on unfortunately well, and James believed his lot were doing it to spite him. Lily thought the same.

“Touch me and you lose a hand.” Lily threatened.

“I could still push you with only one hand.” James said, and to demonstrate, did so.

“I bet you were the kind of douchebag in high school who made people take off their shoes before they got your car.” Lily accused, standing behind James in the dinner line.

“Actually, that was me.” Sirius cut in, leaning over Lily’s shoulder. She flicked him on the nose and returned to James, who had started speaking.

“I bet you were the kind of girl who didn’t share her fries at McDonalds because you were that cheap.”

Lily, offended, said “That was way meaner than what I said.”

James shrugged. “I stand by it.”

“Git.”

Lily hid his gumboots. He put ants in her water bottle. She got her kids to soak his clothes in mud. He roped his into filling her sleeping bag with sand. He was washing off the dick she’d drawn on his face when she comes up behind him in the bathroom.

“Shame. I think it makes you look better.”

“How so?” James watched her in the mirror.

“Well anything’s an improvement on your current look, really.”

Sirius keeps telling everyone they’re in love. It’s very annoying.

“You’re destined to be together.” He said, watching James supervise archery, or rather, watching James watch his kids try to figure out a bow and arrow. “it’s fate.”

“It’s bloody not. She puts tomato sauce on lasagna and also ruined my life when I was eleven.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Your life was already ruined when you were eleven. You used to wear a matching sweater and beanie to school.”

“Shut up. That was a look.”

“Only if ‘look’ is now defined as ‘travesty’”

Remus invited her to their nightly poker games because he’s a traitor. James suggested switching location without telling her, but Remus has a private cabin because he sleepwalks so that’s the only place to go if they want to speak any louder than a whisper. James instead resolved not share any of his secret beer, but accidentally opened her one while they were arguing about who had the better childhood pet.

(She had a cat, he had a dog, Sirius claimed to have a horse but was then exposed to have a lizard, Remus spent the entire argument laughing at the fake horse name Sirius had chosen which was ‘Prancer’ and Peter had an ant farm, though nobody asked him.)

Lily was terrible at poker, and James had a habit of cheating, so both stopped playing around twelve to have conversation about beer labels, and then about condensation on beer bottles, and then they were googling why condensation didn’t affect beer labels, and Sirius had lost £30 to Remus, and Peter had finished all the crisps, and Lily was wrestling James’ phone away because he’d spelt ‘condensation’ wrong.

The most annoying bit was, he’d started to like her against his will.

“You did this. I know it was you.” James said, sulky, lying on a stretcher in the med bay.

“Oh, I got a bee to sting you now did I?” Lily laughed, sitting on the edge of his bed and eating rice crackers. He couldn’t remember the reason she came in, only that it had now been an hour, and they’d spent twenty minutes at least arguing about who made the better cheese sandwich.

“You trained it. You don’t even go to uni at all, do you? Why would anyone want a bloody art history degree. No-“ James sat up, getting into it, “You’re a bee trainer. You set that bee on me and now you’re sitting here laughing.”

“Doesn’t sound very profitable. Bee training.” Lily said, smiling.

James grinned. “It’s a growth industry.”

Once, at one of the nightly poker games, Lily mentions she missed gummy bears. James, inexplicably, ordered some, then snuck them into her cabin while she was white water rafting. He didn’t want to think about it that much.

She confronted him at breakfast. “Did you order these for me?” she asked, holding them up. Her shirt was slipping off her shoulder slightly, and James swallowed.

“God no, I don’t even like you.” He lied. She grinned and hit him with the bag.

“Why would you want an art history degree?” he asked, standing on her cabin porch. He had accidentally walked her back after dinner. He wants the record to reflect that he did not mean to.

“Because everything else is shit.”

“You’re shit.” He said, a reflex.

“Tell me Potter,” she crossed her arms over her chest, “Is it hard having the IQ of a squashed grapefruit?” He laughed.

“We have to win this talent show. It’s a matter of pride.” James said to his cabin at large.

A sleepy eleven-year-old muttered, “It’s one in the morning.” James rolled over and turned the lights on.

“Tell you what Jason that doesn’t sound like dedica-“ he started, but was then hit in the face by several pillows and stuffed snake.

“Your friendship bracelet looks like shit.” James commented to Lily across the table.

Lily, running on two hours of sleep because Stephani Harris got a vomiting bug, hissed, “My friendship bracelet is going to murder your friendship bracelet and bury it in a shallow grave.”

“Christ” James said, alarmed.

Upon hearing that she was in the med bay after a nature walk, he laughed for a solid minute before abandoning his game of Go Fish to go take the piss out of her himself.

James walked in imagining a rope burn, a scrape, a bee sting, and instead sees blood on the floor, over the stretcher, on her hands. His stomach plummeted so quickly he physically jolted, staring, his head a horrible riot.

“I fell into a rock pool.” She explained, and he could see a huge cut on her forehead, the skin peeling away on her leg, a bruise pouring over her left arm. He felt sick. “Also, a crab bit me.” She added.

He didn’t say anything, just looking at the blood and bandages and the line of freckles along her collarbone. “Your leg is going to scar.” He croaked. This is an understatement. It looked like half her skin had been ripped off.

“Yeah, I know,” she looked down, “the crab really did a number on me.” He half laughed, and she grinned at him, all teeth, that way girls did when they really meant it.

“Why an art history degree though, for real.” James asked, sitting on a large boulder. They’d ditched poker night once Sirius started using Pringles as betting chips. As Lily had explained, they were terrible players, but they still had standards.

“What’s with you and your fascination with my art history degree?” She answered, leaning on her elbows.

“I dunno’ it just…” he doesn’t know how to explain it. “When we were eleven you wanted to be a journalist.” He said, and smiled at the memory. Her, hair frizzy in the heat, standing with her hands on her hips and calling him a shitbitch for flushing all her hair ties down the toilet, saying one day she would expose him in print.

“You wanted to be a soccer player” she said into the quiet, and he let himself look at her, stretched across the grass like a dead body. Her shirt had ridden up and in the moonlight, he could see a slice of hipbone, the edge of a jawline, her hair pouring over her shoulders like spilt water.

I want, he thought, ridiculously, like he was four years old, I want.

They were supervising their kids at the lake, which basically entailed being able to identify screams of fun from screams of drowning, and James was looking for his sunglasses when Lily threw the sunscreen at his back. “That’s going to bruise.” He complained.

“Jesus weeps.” She deadpanned, and damn her, she was wearing his fucking sunglasses. “Black,” Lily turned to Sirius, who was lying on a towel with a hat over his face, “Where are your kids?”

“Went home.” He said.

“Camp doesn’t end for another month.”

“They all got sick.” Sirius said, in a tone that indicated they had not.

“Yeah, of having you as a counsellor.” Remus cut in, and Lily laughed. Sirius gave them both the finger without taking the hat off his face.

They were playing poker again in Remus’ cabin, drinking and swearing and watching Peter bluff terribly, when it started pissing down with rain. “You can’t go out in that.” Remus said simply, and threw about eight blankets at them, all of which Sirius promptly stole.

James woke up with a start to the lightning, the window alight, and realized Lily’s hand was on his collarbone. Her fingers were stretched over his throat, face impossibly close, and he could see every freckle on her nose. The still-healing cut on her forehead. Each of her eyelashes.

He couldn’t breathe for a minute. He wanted, in this order, to wake her up, kiss her, bet her ten dollars that he could beat her in a running race and then kiss her again.

“You know I’m still wondering when the talent show is.” James wondered aloud to the not-listening Remus while standing in the lunch line.

“Oh, they don’t do that anymore.” Some kid said in front of him. James blanched.

“What?”

“Yeah, some girl pulled the fire alarm during some guy’s performance and it cost the camp a fortune to get the firetrucks out here so they stopped it. Also, the prizes sucked.”

James couldn’t believe it. As in he literally didn’t believe it. “Who are you?” he accused.

The kid turned to him. “I’m in Sirius’ cabin. We’ve meet about thirty times. You called me Steven at breakfast once.”

James burst open the door of the boiler room, saw Lily standing alone by the clothes line, and stormed over, shouting “They don’t even do the talent show anymore!”

“Oh.” Is all she said, like this wasn’t important, and continued to hang her shorts.

“What do you mean ‘oh’. This is huge news.”

Lily gave him a look. “Tell me you didn’t come all the way out here to tell me that.”

James, who had done exactly that, said “No,” and then: “You don’t care about this.”

“Correct.”

James stared at her, now pegging down a t-shirt, and said “I have no earthly idea why I like you so much” before he could think about it. She froze. He remembered, too late, that when he said things aloud other people could hear him.

“Come again?” she choked, still not looking at him.

“I said I hate you.” James amended, desperately. He wanted to be eaten by a black hole or maybe a rabid dog.

“No, you didn’t,” she said, looking at him now, “You said you liked me.”

“What? No I didn’t. Why would I say a stupid thing like that?�� James babbled, flushing.

She was walking towards him, all slowly, and he couldn’t feel his hands, “I’m not sure.” She said, “Maybe because you do.”

“I don’t like you.” He reinforced, a lie so unbeliebably false even a rabid dog wouldn’t have believed it.

“Really?” she stopped walking, “because I like you madly.”

His heart jumped so hard in his chest that he was sure he’d broken a rib. “Ah.” He said.

“Yeah.” She responded. He could not stop looking at her. Thank God you are you and not somebody else he thought, and then said:

“Bit of a shame I don’t like you then.”

“Ugh” She dropped her head, laughing, “You’re such a fucking asswipe-” and then she was kissing him, and it could not have mattered less that he never got to beat her in the fucking talent show. How ridiculous it seemed, really, to think anything was ever important than this.

#THIS IS LONG AND IT IS LATE AND I HAVE SCHOOL TOMORROW AND IT IS LITERALLY AN HOUR BEFORE THE DEADLINE I WANT TO FUCKING DIE #jilychallenge #jily #james potter #lily evans #carolineswritingtag #brotp: the lot #cant be bothered tagging them all but theyre all in here #THE VIBE OF THIS IS WERID BUT I DONT CARE IM SO FUCKING TIRED WHY CAN I NOT MANAGE ANYTHING I HAVE TO GET UP AT SIX TOMORROW IM

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xxxprettydeadgirlxxx · 7 years

Text

Dark Paradise

Loki/OFC Rated M for Violence and NSFW Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

I tagged those who have been responding to the fic. If you would like to be added/or removed from the tag (or if I missed someone), let me know. :) Chapter 5

When Octavia and Loki had finally woken up from their sex dazed slumber, the word awkward was an understatement. They had ended up having sex four times in total throughout the night, but the last three times had been longer, and before they realized it the sun had come up and the sex was no longer necessary. They had both fallen asleep immediately, curled up against each other. When they awoke they awkwardly sat up, and Loki magically dressed them, since he'd fallen asleep before he'd had a chance to do so.

"I should check outside. Make sure it's safe before we move on." Loki told her as he stood up, walking over to the cave entrance.

He was in a decent mood this morning. Although, he had realized half way though their sexcapades last night that he had a thick fur blanket in his magic pocket, and he could have just used a spell to warm her up. Why he had not thought about that before he had already fucked her twice he couldn't figure out. Maybe it was his dick screaming out for him to get laid. He decided he was going to keep that bit of information to himself; he was sure she would not be happy. Plus, her not knowing had its advantages. He'd get to fuck her quite often and although he wasn't too thrilled about the idea at first, now that he'd finally released some of his sexual frustration he wasn't ready to give it up just yet. Though, it was a little weird now. Usually, he'd just kick people out of his bed when he was done with them; he never kept the same partner for very long, but this was a slightly different scenario. He actually had to face her the next morning, and he honestly wasn't sure what to say at this point. "Damn..." Well, there went his good mood; maybe...

"What?" Octavia groaned, almost afraid to even ask.

Loki sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a chuckle. He wasn't sure whether he was pissed or thrilled right now. "We slept all day." When his words didn't register he elaborated. "It will be dark in an hour."

Octavia's eyes grew wide with horror. "WHAT! Are you fucking kidding me, an hour!? Oh my fucking, JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!" she exclaimed, realizing her only hope was fucking Loki again. "How could you sleep all day!"

Loki gave her a 'don't fucking blame me', look. "You slept all day as well!" It really wasn't like him to sleep so long, but under the circumstances....

"Fuck, fuck my life!" She threw her hands up and growled. "At least tell me that stream is clean enough to bathe in? Please, please, please!" she pleaded. "I feel so gross. I'm dirty and full of Loki semen. I cannot fuck you again this gross and I'm not fucking you until you bathe as well!"

Loki only chuckled at her comment and confirmed that yes, it should be clean enough to bathe in. He was actually about to suggest it, feeling rather gross himself. It wasn't far from where they were staying so they had time. Loki took the lead and they quickly made their way back to the stream to clean themselves up. *********** Octavia had basically stripped when she got there. Loki had already seen her naked (her shirt came off at some point last night) so what was the big deal now. She was going to have to screw him again anyway. She threw her clothes down and stepped in and started scrubbing herself with her hands. Turns out they both needed each other's help to remove all the dirt and that was annoying, though Loki didn't seem to mind, which annoyed her even more. Loki had magically cleaned her clothes for her, for which she was grateful, and they headed back towards the cave just as it was beginning to get dark.

"I'm hungry." she whined as they headed inside. "I guess we aren't eating tonight?"

"No." He said almost regretfully. "Too dangerous to hunt."

She sighed and nodded, but didn't complain. There was no point. It really wasn't his fault the sex had been so amazing they both went into a coma afterwards. Octavia just hated to admit to herself that she had enjoyed it. A part of her may have even been excited about the fact they were stuck in the cave another night, though being cold was getting old.

"I shall stay awake this time and make sure we leave at a decent hour tomorrow." Loki assured her, getting comfortable. He gave her a dark, lusty smirk. "I suppose we will be having a repeat of last night?"

"Shut up." she almost laughed, but stopped herself. No, do not start to like him; he's an ass. Octavia rolled her eyes and walked over next to Loki, sitting down beside him. "Before it gets too cold, tell me something about yourself." She gave him a pleading look. "I can't keep fucking you and know nothing about you, other than your a god, arrogant, an asshole, and apparently a Frost Giant."

Loki chuckled. "What do you wish to know?"

She thought for a moment. What did she want to know? "Well, basics. Favorite color, age, and perhaps some things you enjoy?"

"Green I suppose would be my preferred color. I also like black, as well as gold. I'm over a millennium in age, which is equivalent to about twenty-two Midgardian years." he explained. "I enjoy the dark arts; magic, as well as reading. I like knowledge." he smirked. "Now you. Same questions."

"Okay, well, I like black and hot pink, mostly together. I'm twenty-three so that makes me older, and I also like books. I paint and draw as well. I like pretty things..." she trailed, remembering her world and how beautiful it was, and how horrible and violent this one was. "Anyway-" she began, snapping out of it. -"So, if I overstep my boundaries, just tell me to shut up." she paused. "Why did Odin take you? I mean, if he was at war with them why take you back?"

"As a bargaining chip, basically. For peace." he spoke sadly, and Octavia didn't miss the tone. Why Loki was even telling her this he wasn't sure. Maybe because he didn't expect to make it off this miserable planet, so what did it matter. "I know he regrets it. He told me my birthright was to die, cast out on a frozen rock." Loki's voice had converted to a whisper. "Instead of the ax, I was to be locked away in the dungeons for the rest of my days, never to see my mother again."

"Where is she now?"

"Dead." Loki growled, causing Octavia to jump. "She's dead." he repeated, burying all his hostility back down deep inside his haunted soul. "I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye. I wasn't even allowed to attend her funeral. I was told after the fact..." Loki trailed, his eyes wet and slightly red now.

"I'm so sorry." she told him sincerely.

"I do not want your pity." he growled.

"It's not pity." Loki glared at her, unsure how to take her comment. "I just know what it's like to lose someone you care about, that's all. I lost my dad, though, he was a good dad and not a shitty one like yours sounds."

Loki chuckled silently, then gave her an apologetic look. "I am sorry, for your loss." he told her, brushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "Death is never the end, you must remember that."

Octavia could only nod in agreement. Not only did Odin sound like a dick, but Loki's mother had died while he'd been locked up and had been forbidden to go to her funeral. Hell, even on her planet in certain circumstances, they allowed prisoners to attend funerals. From the way he was speaking she had been very important to him and Octavia couldn't help but feel remorse for Loki, even a little guilty for being such a bitch. "Why were you locked up?"

"For a crime I committed in Asgard-I'd rather not talk about it, and New York. I'm sure you heard about that."

"I did." she paused, unsure what to say next. "How did you get out of the dungeons?"

"Thor released me to help defeat the dark elves and I died. I cheated death and I don't even know how. I should be dead." He licked his lips. "Odin I suppose, decided banishing me was better. I am never to set foot in Asgard again. My home is lost to me." Loki missed Asgard. He missed his room, he missed the gardens, the library, but most of all, he missed Frigga. He supposed he was better off; too many memories of his mother. His dead mother...

"Wait, you died?" What the hell?

"Yes, or so I thought. I don't know."

"You sure have been through some shit, haven't you?"

Loki chuckled darkly. "Oh pet, you have no idea."

She wanted to ask more, but she started to shake; the cold was beginning to set in. "Won't be long now." she laughed, shaking her head. "The things I do to stay alive."

"Is it really that dreadful?" he questioned indifferently.

"No, not really." she answered honestly. "I mean, I don't have a lot to compare it too, but it was definitely better than what my ex tried to call sex." she giggled, and Loki chuckled with her. "Seriously, it was awful." Octavia met his gaze and licked her lips. Damn. "You're definitely not awful." No. No, no, no.

Octavia didn't get very long to argue with herself since Loki had pinned her down and crawled on top of her. He'd already magically removed her clothing, as well as his, and had begun to ravish her womanhood with his mouth. She should have told him to stop, that this wasn't necessary just yet, but she couldn't. All she could do was fall apart, gushing against his mouth as he lapped her juices up greedily. Just like the night before Loki fucked her all night, only this time he had found a few new positions to try. She didn't fight it and had decided just to let go completely and enjoy the intense, amazing pleasure Loki was giving her. For a guy she couldn't stand and couldn't stand her, he sure did know how to fuck her.

Loki had once again fallen asleep, but he had at least remembered to dress them this time. However, he hadn't been asleep for very long when he felt Octavia being yanked from his arms, letting out a blood curdling scream.

Sorry, I like gifs.... xD @mastreworld @neurotic-narwhal @helenaisabel @hellokittyismyspiritanimal @court-of-thorns-and-roses @mad-about-britain @archy3001 @iamhisgloriouspurpose @burningarbiterheart @scoobysnacks31 @sweetangelfan @Kidamon

#loki #lokific #Dark Paradise

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asreoninfusion · 7 years

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1-4,7,10, 11,13,14,16, 19-21, 25,26,30,34, 39,52,54,55, 61,62,65,67 also 69 - (b) - How mature do you think i am on a scale of 1 to 10 giggity giggity!

That’s a lotta questions! :o I’mma put this one under a cut, lol.

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents?

Yeah, my mum especially. To the point where we’ve been discussing buying a plot of land for my hobbit house and splitting the payments and I’d be 100% fine with doing that and trusting there to be no issues with the money and also we’d probably build the house together. She’s on board with my hobbit house plans.

02: Who did you last say “I love you” to?

Uuuuuumm, I don’t think I’ve said it for a long time, I can’t remember. I imagine it probably would have been my mum, but more likely in writing that in person ‘cause I’ve been away at uni and haven’t seen any of the family in a few months now.

03: Do you regret anything?

Many stupid small things and instances where I’ve embarrassed myself by being socially awkward. Nothing major though.

04: Are you insecure?

Depends on what about. I am content about some things, like being able to achieve things independently and get by on my own and also I’m generally perfectly happy with how I look, except for in photos which pisses me off because I know I look better than I do in photos and it annoys me that they make look bad. Fuck photos.

But then I am hideously insecure when it comes to dealing with other people like ahahahaha I am so bad it’s embarrassing. I need to go back to self-isolating I can handle that so much better. Every time I try to interact with people I end up fucking up somehow and hating myself.

07: What did you last eat?

I still haven’t eaten today, so it would have been dinner last night. I tried some of Domino’s new meatball things at a society/social thing last night, they weren’t that great.

10: When was your last physical fight?

Uhhh. Do sword fights count? Cause I imagine it would have been when I was taking the sword fighting lessons. That was like three years ago now.

11: Do you like someone?

Presuming this means like like as in crush-type like, no.

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?

Nn, hate is a bit strong. There’s a few people in the aforementioned society that I am wary of, because they’ve made comments that are kind of racist or transphobic or otherwise Not Cool, but I’m too fucking weak-ass to call them out on it.

14: Do you miss someone?

Not really. It’s kind of weird, like, I say I’m close to my family but at the same time long periods of separation seem totally normal and I don’t miss them much at all idk.

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

I... am still not entirely okay about last night’s society thing and the guy who was making transphobic comments. Like, if there’s one thing I really fucking hate, it’s people who spout opinions - usually opinions that are shitting on other people’s existences - when they clearly know fuck-all about what they’re talking about. Making judgements without knowing the full situation kind of thing.

But I don’t feel like I know enough either to really stand my ground, so I say nothing because, as I mentioned before, I am fucking disgustingly weak. Like, evil flourishes if good people stand by and do nothing and all that jazz.

So, I feel gross about the comments, and I feel gross for not saying anything, and I just want to barricade myself off from the world because I can’t fucking handle anything, and then I feel gross about that too because ahahaha that is not how to respond to conflict.

(The amount of weakness + running away from my problems has gotten so bad I can’t even project onto Cloud anymore, even though he used to be my go-to identifier for that kind of shit. orz)

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?

Mmm, I don’t know, that could end badly. I don’t think there’s anywhen I’d want to go to enough to risk it. I’d rather just go somewhere else geographically in the current time.

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone?

I have not snogged anyone at any point ever.

21: What are your plans for this weekend?

Too much plans, I wanna sleep. But I want to get the tables and graphs done for one lab report and do a decent chunk of the research for the case study thing I have to do for next week. Then I’m gonna hang out with a friend this evening. Tomorrow there are mentions of a group of friends going to the Chinese supermarket and getting together and cooking stuff?? (We’ve done that before but there has been very little in the way of organisation/confirmation of anything this time round so idk.) And there’s the social for the BDSM club people tomorrow evening as well.

This is too much people I’m gonna burn out by the end of the weekend aaaaaahh. DX

Also I needed to try a wash my hair at some point, because we do not talk about how horrifically bad that situation is. (I look at those posts that occassionally crop up with neurotypical people horrified that someone with a mental illness might not shower for two or three days because spoons and I die imaging the reaction if they knew how godawful I am with that shit.)

25: Do you miss anyone from your past?

Nah. I’ve moved countries enough that I am very good at forgetting people and moving on, I’ve had a lot of practice. That’s probably not entirely a good thing, but.

26: What are you craving right now?

Breakfast.

30: What’s irritating you right now?

I think I already gave a far too detailed answer for that in question 16. >>

34: Who/what was your last dream about?

Oooooh. I did have quite an involved dream, but I can’t remember it all that well now. I think the vine guy was there briefly for some reason.

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss?

I have not yet had a first kiss.

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

Nah, sometimes shit just happens because people are assholes. Most times there will be a way to rebuild and make something better out of whatever situation, but I wouldn’t say it ‘happens for a reason’ as if people were meant to suffer however they have.

54: Is cheating ever okay?

No. I mean, I don’t understand it anyway because being ace I’m just here like ‘wtf??? is it really that damn hard to keep it in your pants???’ lol. But if you are interested in having more than one partner, good communication and polyamorous type arrangements are a much better way to go if everyone’s on board with that.

55: Are you mean?

Never intentionally, though I imagine my awkwardness sometimes can be interpreted as rudeness.

61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?

It would depend on the person saying it. I used to have a friend a very long time ago who called me and our other friend ‘babe’, that was cute. If I trusted the person and it was done in a joking but affectionate kind of manner within a friendship/queerplatonic relationship I’d be fine with it. If it was someone I didn’t know so well and, like, if they’re trying to be sexy with it like a ‘hey baby’ kind of thing, that would be weird and creepy ‘cause no thank you.

62: What makes you happy?

Long hikes in lots of nature when the weather is nice, people saying nice things about fic or that thing that happens where we all bounce ideas off each other and end up with fic of art and art of fic, uni work that is actually fun to do and I feel accomplished when I make something I’m proud of, randomly having a gigglefit over recalling stupid funny things (mostly dumb vines or Markiplier, lol), when my voice cooperates and I can sing well.

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

That is awkward as hell because I can guarantee I won’t feel the same way about them, soooo. If it was my best friend of the same sex that has more potential, since I would consider a queerplatonic kind of relationship with someone I was really close friends with and trusted a lot, but I’d be 100 times more comfortable with it if that person was female as well. (Or nonbinary, or trans, actually... now I think about, it’s only cis males that make me really nervous about being liked by. A generalisation, I know, but if any demographic is going to feel entitled to more than I’m comfortable with, it’d be them.)

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?

Probably someone at the uni society thing yesterday, I guess.

69: Do you believe in soulmates?

No, certainly not as a universal thing. Like, it’s sweet to some people click so well it feels like they’re soulmates, but I don’t think that can be expected for everyone.

#ask meme #memery #antarcticanammonite

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ruffoverthinksthings · 7 years

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Do you think Jay and Evie are possible

Anything is possible WHEN YOUBELIEVE!

I’m sorry, it’s late and I need to be going to sleep soon. Anyway:

Speaking from a purely meta perspective, there is no ship that isnot allowed. You don’t need to have any existing chemistry withinthe show, you don’t need to have any “proof” that they couldwork out, and you definitely do not need to prove this to otherpeople with evidence, powerpoints, and independent peer reviews fromother shippers who do not have any potentially biased views, and/orconflicts of interest with you.

Shipping is not scientific research, it's a fun past time. Andthis is coming from a shipper that has, for reasons of having fun, shipped aLatina scientist with several other female characters across thelines of show, age, timeline, and even species, because they wantedto have a lot of fun making one particular character suffer.

(Honey Lemon with Elsa, Unikitty, Athena, Fluttershy, and GoGo, from Big Hero 6, Frozen, The LEGO Movie, Borderlands, and My Little Pony, for my fic “It’s Not Her Fault She Makes Girls Realize They’re Lesbians.)

From an in universe perspective: yes, it is also possible, and actually my first choice for Evie’s relationship choice if she and Doug don’t work out. (The latter of which is most likely, but I already gave my reasons way back when.)

If you, like me, ignore the book series for the most part, I headcanon that given the inherently small population and lack of choice on the Isle, most every VK has dated each other, or has dated someone else’s current beau and can offer them advice. With Evie in particular, though she was constantly setting her sights at whoever had the most physical goods and luxury (relative to the Isle) she could help herself to, she frequently cheated on them or had a very casual relationship with Jay whenever she wanted someone exciting, manly, and with very agile fingers.

I mean those both literally and as a sexual euphemism: Jay is a master of stealing alcohol, semi-decent food, and candles for romantic dinners, along with what follows if he can eat like a regular human being for about half-an-hour.

Post-Isle of the Lost and the vastly expanded opportunities in Auradon both for dating and just improving their lot in life, I imagine that the two of them will spend a lot of time being happily single, figuring out who they are and what they want in life independent of the influence of other people trying to shape them with their whims and desires, and just generally maturing.

For the purposes of this ship, I’d say Evie will find herself in the fashion world as an “Avante Garde” designer known for her incredibly striking, controversial, and many times risque pieces; or as a scientist for any field--it doesn’t really matter which, the point of it being that she works in a constant high stress environment where money, time, timing, public opinion, and sweet talking is constantly a concern, and she’s likely to butt heads with people who are very determined, very opinionated, and very, very, very unpleasant if you happen to prove that they’re wrong in an objective manner.

Jay, as always, will probably find himself as either a professional Tourney player or as part of the Royal Guard, now relevant once more as the VK population grows and the crime rate steadily ticks up from absolute zero. Basically, a job that is high octane, high stakes, with lots of physical activity, and it’s a question of “when” you are going to get injured on the job not “if.”

The two of them I’d imagine dating within their professional circles (it’s where most people meet their partners and dates, after all) in between rising up in their respective career ladders, but as they begin to carve out their niches, get their private offices, and the managers frothing at the mouth trying to get him to sign onto their teams or the high ranking titles, they start to realize something:

They REALLY don’t want ALL of their lives to just be their jobs, and the ways that their colleagues relax aren’t doing it for them. Evie finds the going out to bars, restaurants, and visiting art galleries just carries more of the schmoozing, gossiping, subtle backstabbing, and politeness that her regular job entails; and as Jay grows older, more mature, and starts to think about his life at large, he starts to realize that it’s NOT so fun to blow off steam by partying, drinking, and having one night stand after one night stand.

Things come to a head in a Romantic Comedy coincidence: someone just happens to make the wrong snide comment at Evie on the Day When Nothing Went Right, and in the process of trying to save a rival athlete/fellow partygoer from his own morning hangover stupidity, Jay gets hit by a car.

Evie has a very public blow-up that has her temporarily excommunicated from the high fashion community/the research facilities and laboratories for fear of scandal/”disruptive and toxic attitude affecting morale”, Jay comes out of the incident with just a mild limp, but is hospitalized and will be confined for the next couple of weeks by order of his boss/manager.

It just so happens that the Rotten Four and most of their AK friends are coming to Jay’s hospital room because they’re worried for him, but because they’re all also high-profile professionals at this point/King of the entire country/freelancers who need more commissions to keep paying for their really nice studio apartment, Evie is the only person left sitting next to him.

“Don’t you have important work that’s ‘going to revolutionize Auradon’ or something?” Jay asks.

“Normally, I would! But, since I just had a major meltdown in front of pretty much everyone who pays me to do it: no, no I don’t,” Evie replies as she’s sunk into the easy chair nearby.

Jay nods sympathetically. “Bad day?”

Evie cringes. “More like a whole string of bad days, bad nights, and bad things all piling up till a REALLY Bad Day lit the fuse.”

“Jesus--E, when was the last time you cut loose and let yourself relax?”

Evie sighs wistfully. “Too long ago. Definitely not last night like you did, though. I really hope that party was worth it.”

Jay cringes. “It wasn’t.”

Evie looks at him in surprise. “You? Not enjoying yourself at a party? How?”

Jay shrugs. “When I started being the combination chaperone/designated driver, I guess.”

The two of them pause.

“EVILNESS, I HATE my job SO MUCH right now!” Evie gripes. “And it’s fucked up, because I LOVE my work, but I have all these people I respect and admire professionally, but then they open their mouths and I have to resist the urge to tell them to just shut the fuck up...!”

“Oh man, I’m like that with the new guys all the time--all these fresh grads who think that just because they’re half my age they’re automatically better than me!”

“You’re not alone. I swear, there’s this one intern who is eying me like a hawk; I can see her imagining herself behind my desk, it’s creepy and annoying!”

“Kinda reminds me of Kingsley--might want to slow down on the ‘friendly suggestions’ there, bud.”

“Hah, at least he’s polite about it,” Evie spits.

The two of them spend another few moments in silence, feeling even worse than before.

“What happened to us, Jay?” Evie whispers quietly. “What the fuck happened to us?”

“We grew up. Life happened.”

“But it shouldn’t THIS bad! I shouldn’t be getting up in the morning excited to go to work then having second thoughts when I remember who I’ll be saying hi to on the way to my desk--”

“Get out,” Jay mumbles.

Evie stops. “Excuse me...?”

“We need to get out of here. This hospital, this city--”

“We need a vacation, stat.” Evie finishes.

Jay hums. “Damn right.” He gets up off his bed.

Evie sits up in her chair. “Woah, Jay, you sure you should be getting up?”

“I’m fine,” Jay says. “Everyone’s being keeping me in the hospital longer and longer since I turned 25, something about ‘being sure’ or some other paranoid bullcrap.”

“And they’re just going to let you walk out like this?”

“Hell no!” Jay replies as he walks over to his regular clothes in the corner. “Which is why I’m breaking out,” he says casually, grinning as he takes off the papergown.

Evie has seen worse several times over, so she’s unfazed. “And how are you going to do that? You didn’t break anything, sure, but you’re still not 100%.”

“Evie, Evie, Evie,” Jay says as he puts his pants back on, “What haven’t I been able to do if I had the perfect accomplice with me?”

Evie stands up from the chair, smiling and feeling genuinely excited for the first time in months. “Just tell me what I have to do...”

So the two of them engineer a hospital break, take off in Evie’s car, and go on a crosscountry roadtrip with the intent of enjoying a full 3 days at the bordertowns in Faraway, raising hell, rediscovering what’s important in their lives, running and hiding away from their bosses who now coincidentally, desperately need them back on the job, and spending a LOT of time learning about all the many ways they’ve changed for the better, and reacquainting themselves with Jay’s very agile fingers...

... Again, literally and as a sexual euphemism.

#Descendants #Disney #Headcanon

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