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invisible-storyteller · 9 months

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Everybody wants some (Stiles)

(Also on AO3.)

"Dare," Erica grinned after a moment of suspense.

Lydia rolled her eyes, having anticipated Erica's answer ever since the beta had presented her suggestion of a "fun" game to a very tipsy, and very bored group of college students. It had been the fourth pack night in a row after everyone had finally arrived for their summer break and there were only so many movies they could watch, plus it was still better than Scott's suggestion of spin the bottle.

Speak of the devil.

"Everyone has chosen dare so far," Scott noted with the faintest pout on his lips, clearly disapproving of the humiliating tasks distributed so far.

Erica smacked her lips, giving Scott a taunting smile. "Fine. I changed my mind. Truth."

"Can she do that?" Isaac questioned but Scott only shrugged, not caring about the rules as long as no one else was forced to drink spoiled milk from a bowl like a puppy again.

"Okay, so..." Allison leaned forward, a foreboding shadow casting over her face that Erica met head-on, "If you weren't with Boyd, who would you fuck out of everyone in this room?"

Erica raised a single eyebrow, visibly unimpressed. "Stiles, duh."

It was almost superhuman how quickly Stiles straightened up in an instant, his mind having wandered off to fantasies of a certain socially inept alpha who had excused himself from his own living room as soon as the pack had settled down to play, and now getting jolted back into reality.

"That's boring. Everyone knows you had a crush on Stiles." Malia piped up from where she rested her head in Kira's lap, the kitsune's fingers carding through the locks of her hair absent-mindedly.

"You say that like you wouldn't fuck him if you had the chance."

"Of course, I would," Malia shrugged like it was no big deal.

Stiles, on the other hand, nearly choked on his tongue.

"That's not a surprise, either, you actually dated him." Lydia pointed out, and Stiles could only snap his eyes back and forth between the two girls, trying to frantically grasp just when he had lost track of the conversation.

"You don't have to sound so condescending," Stiles mumbled out eventually, his eyes finally pausing on Lydia.

"Oh, honey, you can't be this oblivious."

And Stiles totally wasn't imagining the knowing looks on his packmates' faces.

"About what?" He asked (damn his curiosity), feeling the usual trepidation that came with the whole 'being in a pack with not-so-mythical creatures' schtick.

Erica only snickered as she cuddled into Boyd's side, mischief dancing behind her thick eyelashes and promising no good. "About how everyone wants to breed you in this pack."

Okay, Stiles definitely choked this time (and Scott may have been a bit too enthusiastic with his back slaps) or maybe he fell asleep and was having the weirdest sexy dream without actual sex happening. Although, Lydia's offended yet conceding glance to the side looked pretty real.

"Wha-at?" Stiles wheezed out very eloquently between two consecutive coughs, and got immediately startled by the fact that Mason was the one to answer.

"Everyone in this pack has been attracted to you at one point," Mason clarified as if it was the most common knowledge in the world. Corey's agreeing nod did not help lift the fog in Stiles's mind at all.

"What."

"Say, Lydia, did you ever think of fucking Stiles?" Erica asked, a sadistic grin spreading wider on her firey red lips.

"Of course," Lydia replied, honest and simple, even flicking her hair for extra effect.

"Since when?" Stiles asked, a little outraged. He had spent many years pining after Lydia, so the fact that she hadn't shared this crucial piece of information with him was a bit of a punch into his teenage self's heart. Oh, and there was that tiny detail that Lydia had a boyfriend.

"Remember when we were hiding in the school from a rogue Peter?"

Stiles nodded, eyes squinting in suspicion as he recalled that dreadful night.

"You remember punching Jackson?"

And just like that, Stiles's jaw hit the ground, funny animation movie sound effects and all that. His chest subconsciously puffed out when he heard Jackson scoff indignantly, and continued to stare at Lydia, feeling like he was seeing her in a completely new light. "Wait, you liked that?! That turned you on?"

"Of course," Lydia parrotted with incongruous disinterest, "Still wouldn't have dated you. But I do enjoy a good display of dominance."

This had to be an alternate universe. Or a hyper-realistic dream, Stiles deduced.

"Okay, that makes... wow, three people who thought about getting all up on this," Stiles said in a daze with a half-aborted gesture to his body. Admittedly, the number was impressive (since he had always assumed it to be zero) but, at the same time, it was far from being the entire pack as Erica and Mason had so confidently claimed.

As if reading his mind, Lydia's sweet voice filled the loft once again.

"Hey, Ally, didn't you consider dating Stiles at one point?" Lydia addressed the other girl out of nowhere, making Stiles turn towards his long-time friend with a look teetering someplace between pure shock and utter horror.

"Yeah?" Allison's uncertain response launched her into a pensive moment, probably rummaging through her memories before frowning in mild amusement. "That was actually your fault I think."

"Wha-" Stiles opened his mouth to say something along the lines of 'what the fuck' but Lydia beat him to it.

"It was before prom," Lydia reminisced with an honest-to-God smile, "You were insufferable and tried to convince me to go with Stiles. I told you that if you think he's such a great catch, maybe you should be the one going with him."

Allison snapped her fingers as if the memory had been at once revealed to her as well. "Oh yeah. I remember thinking that he would be a gentleman in bed."

"Ugh..." Honestly, at this point, Stiles's brain was officially out of order. Dial-up error noise, no signal sign, all that jazz. He seriously didn't think the night could get any more absurd, but then again, this was his life, with the constant motto being 'fuck Stiles's sanity', so what was he expecting, really?

"I would feel so grossed out right now if I didn't have fantasies about Stiles, too," Isaac revealed nonchalantly, and to that, Stiles had to make a face. "What? I just wanted to see if I can shut you up."

"With your mouth," Erica added with a conspiring smirk. Stiles really hated her right now. She was the one responsible for this whole avalanche collapsing onto poor unsuspecting Stiles in the first place.

"I had the same thought," Boyd added, apparently joining in on the 'let's wreck Stiles's world' plan, "Although I was planning to shut your mouth with something else."

Stiles's mouth decided at that moment that it was just going to assume a permanent open position, gaping like a fish out of water (cause that was exactly how he felt), which didn't help his case, in hindsight.

"Stiles does have an oral fixation," Malia chimed in, everyone else nodding along like that wasn't news at all.

"Seriously, guys? This- okay, Scotty, help me out here," Stiles pleaded, unsure of how to feel about everything that had been spoken so far, but still solid in the faith for his quasi-brother, "You did not have sexual fantasies about me, right? We're best friends. Brothers from another mother."

Stiles really wished Scott wouldn't have pulled the world's most apologetic and guilt-ridden grimace at that.

"Remember when we went to that pool party in eighth grade?"

Stiles didn't like where this was going, but yes, he could sort of remember. That day marked the first time Stiles had drunk alcohol - some cheap booze their classmate's brother had stashed somewhere in his room. It was also the summer Stiles's body had finally gained some definition so he wasn't too shy about forgoing a shirt.

"You asked me to put sunscreen on your back?" Scott continued with hunched shoulders like he could hide from his own words, and Stiles's eyes popped open in realization.

"Dude."

"That's why I had to go to the bathroom," Scott scratched the back of his neck with flaming cheeks, "Twice."

"Twice?" Liam echoed, and Stiles imagined wrapping his hands around that little pup's throat and just squeezing.

"Stiles's swim shorts were very tight when he got out of the pool," Scott answered sheepishly, and much like a volcano, the pack burst into loud cheers. Stiles was seemingly alone in his mortification, mourning the loss of his innocence and feeling oddly betrayed.

"Since we're being honest," Oh God, why was Jackson talking?, "I did have some dreams about Stilinski, and in my defence, I was still in the closet back then and it was a small locker room, okay? I'm not responsible for my thoughts after seeing what he's packing."

"I did think about making out with him when we were on a stakeout," Theo added, a bit too eager to be part of the pack in Stiles's opinion.

This was all too much. Probably a bigger conceptual change than the discovery of the supernatural's existence. Stiles couldn't help it, therefore, in the following silence where everyone awaited his final reaction with baited breaths, he realized there was only one thing left to do: laugh.

"Okay, wow," Stiles breathed out between bouts of laughter, almost doubling over himself as he clutched his sides, "Nice joke, guys. Really. Prank of the year. Picking on the single pringle in the pack. Did you rehearse this?"

There was something unsettling in the look his packmates shared.

Malia looked around then with a neutral expression and exclaimed. Loudly. "Raise your hand if you ever thought about kissing or fucking Stiles."

Everybody's hands, without exception (Stiles checked), shot up high into the air like they were pulled by strings (Mason might have had to nudge Liam in the side but he, too, raised his hand with eyes downcast in shame), and it was the most out-of-left-field reaction at that moment, but Stiles suddenly felt a glimmer of hope that maybe... no. That was and had always been wishful thinking. Even if, apparently, Stiles was the epitome of bonability in his peers' eyes.

Right on cue, a deep rumble came from the bottom of the stairs, startling absolutely no one besides Stiles who was still momentarily lost in adjusting his worldview.

"What is happening?"

It was truly fascinating how reluctant everybody seemed to answer now in the face of that gruff voice. Stiles, for the most part, could only swallow past the sound of his own rabbiting heartbeat.

"Just playing some stupid game," Jackson deflected as his hands, in comical synchrony with all others', dropped to his sides.

"What game?" Derek pried, arms crossing across his chest and making the muscles bulge threateningly, not that Stiles noticed.

"It's called... 'Who's thought about kissing Stiles'?" Kira replied with a tamer version of the truth, although Stiles had no doubt that Derek had heard the original statement if his 'what brain-dead moron do you take me for' frown was any indication.

Nervous laughter bubbled out of Stiles, and he clapped his hands for lack of a better idea on how to diffuse the situation. The pack was engaging in some creepy version of a stare-down with their alpha, and from Isaac's uncomfortable squirming, it was evident that the others had felt the uncanny chill of Derek's look, too. Even Stiles had the uncomfortable impression of a noose tangling around his neck, awaiting (perhaps) a sentence or an order, and he was eerily reminded of the early days of knowing Derek. Things had been better in recent years so the current tension in the room was all the more puzzling, especially since the pack rarely acted so unassertive around their alpha.

"Well, at least we know one person who hasn't, right?" Stiles joked weakly in the silence, his smile short-lived against the strangely intense leer on Derek's face.

If anything, their alpha's features hardened at the words, his (thankfully still normal) eyes blazing with a heat that Stiles had never seen outside the throes of battle. It was doing some very ill-timed things to Stiles.

Unsurprisingly, Lydia was the first to stand up, the light shake of her head accompanied by a soft "Oh, Stiles" before she made the smart move and left, rousing everyone else into action. Derek kept glaring at the pack until they dribbled out one by one, some sending Stiles encouragement (like Erica with her thumbs up) but ultimately abandoning him in the loft with a displeased alpha to handle. Stiles gaped after his traitorous friends, arms stretched open in disbelief and no clue about anything that had gone down so far. If there was a way to say "???" out loud, Stiles would have done that right then and there.

"Wha- guys?" Stiles asked just as the metal door violently slid shut. It was thunderous in the otherwise empty loft.

He whipped around swiftly and poked his thumb in the direction of the exit because that felt like the next logical thing to do when a murderous-looking werewolf began to move towards him.

"I guess that means pack night's over so I'll just... Umm..."

Stiles could have sworn that he heard a growl before Derek's eyes bled into ominous red, and it was a testament to how fucked up Stiles's self-preservation instincts had become over the years that those weren't the wolfish features that had Stiles's brain melting into syrupy goo. No, that achievement could only be attributed to the sharp fangs poking out from behind Derek's pink lips, and Stiles was like 95% sure that "How would those feel buried in my skin?" was not a normal thought to have in this kind of situation.

"Has any of them touched you?"

Stiles shook his head - you know, once he had enough blood there to comprehend the question - and his hands came up unwittingly to put some barrier between him and Derek. "Hold on, what? No! It wasn't that kind of game- oh well, some of your pups were certainly touching in ways that I tried really hard to ignore- hey, you should talk to them about that! You know, privacy, I'm sure you heard... about... that..."

Derek's eyebrows gradually sank lower during his rant while Stiles's mouth slightly opened to help regulate his breathing (and why was that so hard all of a sudden?). Something in Derek's look made Stiles itchy to speak, like he had to defend himself for some reason. "It's not like any of them would actually want to fuck me- Hey, what's with the looming, dude?"

Derek's eyes narrowed wordlessly onto Stiles's chest where the human's heart rate spiked from feeling the solid surface of the door hit his back. He hadn't noticed how fast Derek was crowding in on him, and something about that fact made Stiles think of one of those National Geographic documentaries. You know, where the gazelle gets mauled.

"Dude, if you want me to leave, just say so. You don't gotta go all Michael Myers on me-"

"Would you let them?" Derek slurred around his fangs, eyes meandering like he was trying to catalogue all of Stiles's (very straightforward and very communicative) reactions, "Would you let anyone in the pack fuck you?"

Stiles shook his head so fast, he almost felt dizzy afterwards.

Derek's eyes faded back to green then, and he withdrew his body heat that Stiles hadn't even taken note of up until that point. With the proximity confiscated, Stiles felt a tinge of disappointment as well as a buttload (hah) of confusion - the same emotions somehow getting reflected back at him in Derek's eyes before the werewolf sculpted his face into his usual neutral look.

Stiles had never had a more life-changing lightbulb moment before (previous truth or dare game included), and he felt the urge to facepalm at himself.

"I mean, it depends..." Stiles trailed off, Derek's hostile yet curious eyebrows making a reappearance. "I, um..."

Instead of bothering with words, Stiles licked his bottom lip as a test and delighted when Derek's eyes followed the movement with failing restraint. With a sudden burst of confidence, he pushed away from the door and violated Derek's personal space as much as he could get away with without actual touching.

"Raise your hand if you have a crush on Derek Hale.

Derek frowned, his eyebrows doing some weird high jumps when Stiles sneaked a hand up into the air and wiggled his fingers for emphasis. This time, when the werewolf's eyes caught his, they were consumed by darkness instead of alpha red but were no less promising. And when Derek grabbed his wrist and yanked him forward, literally tripping Stiles into a kiss, that was something Stiles was for once expecting and welcomed with an eager moan.

As it turned out, nobody wanted Stiles as much as Derek Hale did.

And out of all the reveals that day, that was the only one that truly mattered to Stiles.

#sterek #original: sterek fanfic

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tonyspank · 1 year

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CHAPTER THREE | THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY

A/N: Hehe…

Warnings: Silliness & Idk…

Jenna Ortega x G!P Reader

It had been a week after your first date with Jenna, and you believe you couldn't be any happier.

You guys had been texting every day, 24/7. Fingering tapping on the screen every chance you got, and if you two weren't doing that then you were sitting on FaceTime with each other doing the most random things or talking about the weirdest things.

It was currently Friday afternoon and Jenna had your second date planned for tomorrow afternoon, you were very excited about it.

Thousands of scenarios ran throughout your mind. You wondered if Jenna was going to try and kiss you like she did last time, or would she wait until later, or was she going to be waiting on you?

Not knowing made you even more excited, it felt like you were at the top of a roller coaster, not knowing when you were about to drop.

Currently, you were with Jack and Mason at Mason's apartment, the three of you had been watching movies, playing board games, literally anything to pass by time.

Your cell phone began ringing, and you read the contact name, Alora.

"Hey Alora, what's up?" You ask, leaning your head on Jack's shoulder. "Hey, Y/N!"

Jack smiles, "Hey, Alora!" She lets out a dramatic gasp, "JACK?" She nearly screams in your ear, but you quickly pull the phone away with a scrunched-up face, causing Jack and Mason to giggle.

"Anyways, what's up?" You hear shifting over the phone and a long sigh, "I know you asked for tomorrow off but we're really busy and Julian can't make it, his graduation is tomorrow."

Your face drops at the information, "Is there no one else that could take my shift?" You lift your head from Jack's shoulder and stand up quickly leaving the living room.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." You sigh, scratching the back of your neck. "It's okay, Alora. I'll um, I'll be there tomorrow."

"I'm really sorry." You shake your head, "It's fine, promise." But in reality, you were a bit disappointed. You didn't wanna cancel on Jenna, you'd been looking forward to your date since your first one had ended.

Alora says goodbye before ending the call, you turn back towards Jack and Mason who look at you with a sad expression.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm sure Jenna will understand," Mason speaks up, and Jack nods in agreement.

You sigh out, "I know, but.." You trail off sitting back down next to Jack. "She spent an entire four days trying to plan this for me. Me if all people."

Jack places a hand on your shoulder, "Which is exactly why she'll understand. She cares about you, and she knows what it feels like when work gets in the way."

"I know. I know. I was really looking forward to that date though," You say in a joking manner, smiling. Jack nudges you, "Oh, believe us. We know!" Mason laughs, and the two of you join in right behind him.

You were going to tell Jenna later. But for now, you were going to enjoy the company of your friends. When you got home you plopped down onto your couch, dialling Jenna's number. After the third ring, she answers, "Hey! You just got home?"

You nod your head even though she can't see, "Yeah," Before you could say anything else, she speaks again. "Wait. FaceTime me, I wanna see you."

You try to ignore the fluttering mess that your stomach has become, chuckling as you began FaceTiming her. The screen loads, and you're greeted with the brunette in her bed, her freckles more prominent on her natural face.

"Hey Jen," You greet, smiling. She sits up in her bed smiling at you. "Hi. How were Jack and Mason?"

"The usual, absolutely crazy." You joke earning a laugh. Your laughter dies down, and Jenna immediately realizes something wrong.

"What's wrong?" You furrow your eyebrows, "Um? Nothings wrong?" Jenna playfully rolls her eyes, "Dude you're like such a bad liar."

You can't help but smile widely, "Bro! No, I'm not.." You try and defend yourself.

"Um? Nothings wrong?" Jenna mocks, deepening her voice. "Hey!" You say, dropping your jaw. "I do not sound like that."

"I do not sound like that." She mocks again, you raise your finger to the screen. "I'm five seconds away from hanging up." You joke, Jenna waves a hand in front of the camera, "Wait no! Don't," She laughs pleading with you.

"Now. Tell me what happened," Jenna says, calming down. She actually looked concerned, and it felt nice to know that she cared.

"You know our date tomorrow?" She nods to your words. "I might have to take a rain check— listen I really really didn't want to but my boss called me into work because my co-worker is also graduating tomorrow and—"

She cuts you off, smiling so hard her dimples show. "Y/N. It's okay, I understand."

You twist your lips a slight furrow appearing in your eyebrows, and Jenna honestly couldn't find anything more adorable. She couldn't believe you were the same girl leaning against the back of a building smoking a cigarette.

"Are you sure? I mean you spent a lot of time planning it." Jenna fixes her camera as she lies down on her side, "And you were worth every second."

You bite your bottom lip to fight off your smile but fail horribly. Jenna's huge smile turns into small bits of laughter. You playfully roll her eyes as she laughs, "What are you doing tomorrow?"

Jenna scratches her eyebrows as she thinks, and you admire her. "Ummm.. I'll probably ask Percy if he's free, but I don't know."

Your stomach turned, and not the way it turned whenever Jenna would suddenly start romanticizing you. You laugh indifferently, hoping she doesn't notice. "Oh yeah! Percy, he's in Wednesday right?"

Jenna nods a slight smile on her face, "Yes! That's him." You hum, and Jenna continues about her cast mate, Percy.

Once Jenna finishes you make an excuse to hang up the phone, not even saying goodbye.

Now. You were upset about having to work tomorrow.

When you woke up for work, all you could think about was what Percy was going to do with Jenna, and how that could've been you. You could've been spending your day with her with whatever she had planned with the two of you.

Yes, you might have been overreacting, but you just couldn't get the thought out of your mind.

You were jealous.

And now that you knew you were jealous made the situation worse. You and Jenna weren't dating, she was her own person. She obviously has a life outside of Jack Champions' childhood friend, and you were definitely being selfish.

You never fully thought about how much Jenna had been putting aside for you, you were taking up so much of her time. Every second you texted her, or called her, you loved her company and you'd gotten so used to it that when she didn't have time for you, you felt alone.

As you got out of the car at the gas station, you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket. Taking it out it was no one other than Jenna, you sighed to yourself before placing it back in your pocket.

We're you acting childish? Of course, we're you going to stop? No. Because in the moment it felt like a good thing to do.

You walked up to the counter, taking out your wallet. "Hi, twenty on pump three and a pack of Marlboro reds, please?" You hand the cashier your money, he looks at you before pressing a few buttons on his cash register.

You stand there waiting for your cigarettes, awkwardly. You scratch your nose, "Um, my cigarettes?"

He looks at you before sighing, "I'm sorry, but a few days ago this girl, short... brown hair..." He describes with his hands, "She said don't sell you any cigarettes."

You furrow your eyebrows, "What?!" There's no way he's not talking about Jenna. "Is that even possible? Like, is that allowed?"

The younger boy shrugs, "Dude... I have no clue. My dad is making me work here because he's mad at for me dropping out—"

You wave your hands signalling for him to stop his speech, "It's whatever bro. Keep the change."

You quickly leave the store, pumping your gas before entering your car and driving off. You drive to another gas station in hopes of getting a cigarette, again... the same story. And then again you drive.

After a while you give up, and not only did you not have a smoke to calm yourself down, but you're late for work. And Alora gets very stressed and less friendly when the shop is busy.

So today, you're dealing with no smoke, a stressed boss, and your crush spending her day with another guy.

"You're late Y/L/N." You hear Alora say behind the counter as you walk through the double doors, you send a smile to the long line of customers, walking behind the counter yourself.

"Sorry." You mumble, "I'm going to go clock in." She nods at your words, putting a lid on the cup she just filled with coffee. You head to the back, clock in and as you're putting on your apron you hear someone softly say your name.

"Hey, Y/N." You turn around quickly, recognizing the voice. "Jenna?" You say though it sounds more like a question as it leaves your mouth.

"What are you doing here?" You ask as you finish tying your apron. She motions to her outfit, she has on a black button-up along with black slacks, and doc martens, but the main focal point of her outfit was the apron she was wearing, the same as yours.

"I'm working." She smiles at you, and you suddenly feel like a dickhead. "I tried calling you to let you know, but prrt... no answer."

You stare at her, bewildered. And your stupid mouth just can't stop. "Did you tell the gas stations near my house to stop selling me cigarettes?"

Jenna's smile fades, and she ignores the question completely. "You tried to buy cigarettes? Why?"

You do the same. "I thought you were going to be hanging out with Percy." She shrugs, "I changed my mind. I wanted to see you."

You're back to the silent staring.

Before your mouth starts again, Alora interrupts. "Hi, guys...." Your heads snap to your her, "Kinda busy out front. So..." She points behind her, awkwardly as she knows she interrupted something.

You walk out of the back, Jenna following close behind. She's having an internal battle with herself about why you even thought about buying cigarettes. Not too long ago while the two of you were on FaceTime, you told Jenna you smoked to relax, or whenever you felt uncomfortable.

So what could've made you uncomfortable, and worry so much?

Jenna walks around the café asking the guests if they're okay or if they need anything while you handle the register and orders with Alora, you can't help but glance at Jenna every now and then, not even knowing she does the same when you're not looking at her.

Minutes pass and the line seems like it barely moved, Jenna is behind the counter now with you as Alora takes an order at a table.

"Are you done ignoring me?" Jenna asks behind you, you shake your head pulling down on the lever in front of you. "I'm not ignoring you."

"If feels like it." She responds, you can practically feel her eyes burning into the back of your head. You hated admitting you were wrong, and you especially didn't want to admit to Jenna that you were jealous of Percy.

You weren't an idiot. You've seen them before, and how everyone went crazy because of their "chemistry", but back then you never knew how much of a problem it would've caused in your life.

"Jenna," You start turning around with a sigh, "Not right now, please?" You didn't want to get into it with her, mainly since this was your job, and there still was a long line of customers in front of the counter the two of you stood behind.

Jenna stares at you, then proceeds to walk away obviously upset.

Hours pass, glances are thrown, and finally, after it felt like years, you're closed and one last customer stands in the shop waiting on their drink. For some reason Alora told Jenna to make it, saying it wasn't that hard.

Alora also forgets to tell Jenna one of the machines are in fact broken, so when she presses the button water sprays everywhere, like actually everywhere.

"Shit!" You shout, the cold water hitting the back of your neck and your upper back. Your turn around and Jenna is absolutely soaked. Jenna's mouth is open in shock, she turns around not moving a muscle in her arms, facing you.

Your jaw drops at the huge puddle on her apron, and the water dripping from her face. Thankfully it wasn't hot, the machine was so broken that couldn't even produce hot water if it wanted to.

"Oh, my god. I totally forgot!" Alora says from the opposite side of the room, she places down the broom walking over to the two of you, passing the customer she mutters, "Sorry, it'll be one second."

The teenage girl laughs shaking her head, "You're totally fine, I just got to see my favourite celebrity get sprayed in the face while making my coffee." She laughs again, raising her phone.

You take a new tissue from beside you, walking closer to Jenna who drops her arms, while you begin wiping off her face. "Here you guys go in the back, I'll make the coffee and clean this up?"

"You sure?" You turn your head to Alora throwing away the tissue you just used, "Yeah, of course. Go ahead in clock out. Thank you for coming in today, and thank you Jenna for your help."

Jenna sends her a smile, "Thank you for allowing me to help." Jenna steps over the puddle as safely as possible, and you follow behind. With a soft hand on her back, you're now in the break room you get another tissue, and wiping your neck, Jenna watches you a small smile on her face.

She knew she liked you, why else would she plan these dates for you, post you after your first date, or even come into your job and serve people for multiple hours? She believed the feeling was mutual, but she didn't want to rush into anything with you and end up regretting it later on.

She also wanted you to be comfortable, being with a celebrity was a lot. She had been putting some stuff aside for you, but she knew later on her schedule would get hectic, would you mind that? Or what if she could officially tell everyone you were together, would you care?

There were many questions that needed to be asked, and no more tip-toeing around each other.

You throw away the tissue, sitting down with a long sigh. You look up at Jenna, who's already staring at you.

We're you okay? Her mind wandered back to earlier this morning. Why were you buying cigarettes, and was she the cause for it?

"Jenna?" You call out, noticing the shorter girl in a daze. She blinks a bit, humming in response.

"You okay?" Jenna nods, sitting down beside you. "Yeah, yeah. I'm good." You nod at her words.

Silence.

"Can we talk though?" You can barely hear her, her voice only a whisper. "Yeah," You respond, your voice as low as hers.

"Can we go back to this morning? Are you okay? Did I do something? You just seem so—" She motions with her hands, "Upset." She finishes with a frown, you feel yourself frowning at her words. She seemed so worked up and worried because you wanted to be the one to act childish.

"I'm sorry. I— I just, I don't know. I got jealous last night." You shamelessly admitted. "I've seen... photos of you and Percy, and I guess I got the wrong idea. And then I started to overthink and ghost you out like a child." You felt proud of yourself, getting over your small ego to not admit when you're wrong, or immature.

Jenna scoots closer mumbling out and, "Y/N." Your gaze leaves your hands, and you look into the girl's brown doe eyes, "You don't have to be jealous, okay? Percy and I are just friends. We probably wouldn't even be friends if it wasn't for Wednesday."

"What are we?" Jenna shrugs, unsure. "We're testing the waters... to see if we're capable enough for each other."

"I'm sorry." You shake your head, embarrassed about how you were acting earlier. "It's okay. We're all human." You nod at her words, not knowing what else to say.

"Y/N," She starts, a sigh leaving her lips. "I like you, I really do. I wanna see what this can become, but you have to know I come with a lot of baggage. Not only the public, but my family, and hell, even me. I just wanna know if you can handle it."

You grab her hand that's been resting on her thigh, "I can. And I know earlier doesn't make it seem like it, but I can and I will."

"You're also probably wondering about the cigarettes?" She shakes her head, "I think I figured it out." She laughs, and you join in.

"But did you actually go to every gas station and tell them not to sell me cigarettes." Yes, yes she did. "Of course not." You playfully squint your eyes at the girl. "Mm-hmm."

"Can I ask something?" You run your thumb along her hand, humming. "Does this count as another one of our dates?"

You bite on your bottom lip, holding back your smile along with your laugh, "I don't know. I'm a pretty busy person."

She smiles at you, again she stares at you inspecting every little detail of your face. Then looking at your lips, maybe a little too long.

"Does this count as another date?" She repeats, her voice sweeter and lower than last time. You lick your lips, glancing at her eyes and then her lips.

You subconsciously find yourself leaning in, Jenna tilts her head doing the same, her eyes fluttering until they were fully closed. "Oh!"

You jump apart at the sudden voice, "You guys are still here?" Jenna scoots away, smiling.

"Yeah, we're actually about to leave." Alora nods, her eyes flickering between the two of you. "Mmm... Okay...." She mumbles, leaving the room.

"Do you have a spare set of clothes?" Jenna speaks up from beside you holding up her wet apron, you nod. "I think I have a hoodie in my car."

"Actually, do you wanna come over?" You ask, shrugging. Jenna lights up beside you.

"Sure."

#reader insert #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna x reader #jenna marie ortega #wattpad #jenna ortega x gn!reader #jenna x y/n #jenna ortega x g!p reader

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ghostflowerhotpotch · 10 months

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Spiderman Society and Manipulation Part 1

Okay! I had been wanting to do this post for a while, while I don't think we can flat out call the Spiderman Society a cult, the reality is that the more you look at it, the more twisted and crazy the spider society becomes.

I had seen a lot of people complain about the spiders in the society (specially on Gwen,) of how they could let this happen and how could actually believe is a good idea to let people die. And I don't think a lot of these people realize that the organization is operating in a way that is made to manipulate people, and things are far more complicated that what you may realize.

I would estate now that a lot of the things that fall under Cult behaviours are kind of inevitable by the nature of the organization.

I also want to emphasize that I DON'T THINK MIGUEL IS EVIL, or is even aware of the damage he is doing by the way he is running this operation. I truly believe there is no one who believes more in this than him, and all he does is for the common good.

And he is so focused on that goal he doesn't realize the damage he is doing.

WARNING: The following discussion will involve talking about Cults, psychological manipulation, controlling behaviours and such. If you think these topics may be a trigger for you, please consider skipping this.

Levels of Information

It hasn't been flat out say, but you can see in the movie that there are levels to the amount of information each Spider has on the organization.

Pavitr is aware that the Spider's society duty is to stop villains and beings from other dimensions from breaking havoc; these people ended up there by accident and need to be contained and sent to their respective universes.

However, he also says "I can do both," meaning that he has to be unaware about living in a canon event, and most probably, the existence of canon events.

Hobie also, seems to be in a somewhat of an intermediate level.

Here, Hobie says how he actually doesn't have much of an idea of what's going on with the organization.

However, he does appear to know more than Pav and Miles.

Here Hobie confirms that he knows that Miles is an anomaly. At least that's the impression he gave me considering the circumstances.

Now, we need to balance a few possibilities here.

Hobie being aware of anomalies but not canon events isn't exactly the weirdest concept; anomalies are entities from another universes coming in, which is of course, not suppose to be normal occurrence in any universe. Miles being bitten by a spider from another dimension would make him an anomaly just for that alone.

Hobie didn't seem particularly surprised when the canon events conversation came up, but I can buy that 1) He knows how to hide his emotions well, which would make sense if his universe is anything similar to what it is in his comics, 2) He may had suspected something like this was going on with the information he has at hand.

This also makes sense with his character, because I am sorry but I really cannot believe Hobie knew Pav was going to go through something traumatic, and would just let Pavitr suffer. ESPECIALLY for something Miguel says.

There is the possibility that he knows about anomalies from Gwen and not the organization itself, this would track considering he has admitted that the only reason he has been hanging around is because he wants to look after Gwen; and probably Pavitr too. He seems to be the type of person who looks after more vulnerable, young people. Which is pretty punk of him.

I could also believe Gwen at least telling Hobie about anomalies, because they are close friends (FRIENDS, look I like this ghostpunk and other ships because I am like that, but in the movie is obvious Hobie just seems Gwen as a friend. Again, don't bother shippers.) And because Gwen would obviously be upset about not being able to visit Miles, and venting to Hobie (who for sure would not rat her to Miguel, and would understand her situation.) As well as explaining the reasoning of the situation.

Why would she explain that? Well, because she needs to justify this still making sense, being the good guys.

Remember, Gwen ended here not just because she wanted to be with other spiders, but because she thought her home wasn't safe anymore. She needs to justify this being worth it because she is a traumatized teen with not a lot of support and is trying to cope with it until the reality exploits her in the face.

But probably that's a conversation that is better for another day.

I don't think people are realize how absolutely TRUE this rings for Cults.

Independently if this is a religious or other type of cult (because yes, not all of them are religious;) something that tends to happen is that there are levels to what people know; and the longer and more loyal you are to a cult, the more they let you in.

In fact, the loyalty thing is sometimes more important than time; if they see you are committed enough to one level, they may let you in the next bit of information.

This is because most cults start trying to say pretty reasonably things, a lot of them involved the common good and the possibility of a better life; and then the more they convince you to some ideas, the more they let you in the crazy stuff that is actually underneath. And this is on purpose, because a lot of people wouldn't had stayed too long if they knew the bat shit crazy information from the get go.

So they intentionally manipulated you into thinking their side of things first, and then they try to become your new support network and community.

You wouldn't believe an stranger, but your new family, or I don't know, new organization, who welcomes you in when you have nowhere to go, and offer to guide you in a way you desperately wanted help but never had the chance- Why you wouldn't believe them?

Well, I am getting ahead of myself.

This is how you get cults like Scientology, where at first people only had a vague idea of what was going on, until some people got in deep enough to extract some information and reveal to the world how nuts a lot of this sounds.

Preying on those facing difficult times

I will probably had someone mad at me because this title and choosing this particular screenshoot can feel a bit like a reach, but hear me out.

Yes, I understand that neither Miguel nor Jess had bad intentions when they ask her to join, in fact Jess seemed fully worried about Gwen because she had no one.

But again, Jess and Miguel aren't in this to manipulate people for their evil schemes, they fully believe all of the philosophies they are preaching.

While Gwen's case is the most extreme (that we are aware of at least,) this really rings my alarm bells WAY too much if you ask me.

Because of things like this:

Say what you want about the commitment Miguel has with his mission, I am not saying saving the multiverse isn't important (though it would help if Miguel had bothered to double check his theory,) but if you talk to someone who has lived in an abusive household, ask exactly what it did for their mental health being afraid of fucking up because they may get you kick out.

(It's figurative speech, if you have the chance learn about it but don't ask anyone who isn't comfortable talking about the subject.)

Let me tell you something; living afraid of what would happen to you just for existing is not a walk in the park, and while I don't think Gwen is truly walking on eggshells with Miguel; it cannot be easy knowing in the back of your mind that if you mess up badly enough, you will end up in a place where you may risk ending in prison, being homeless, or that your mere presence may make someone you love die.

(After all, technically; ASM-90 can't happen if Spider-Gwen isn't there to fight anyone, right? Yeah I wonder what exactly Miguel would had done about that.)

You saw the amount of spider-people this society has, you also know how spider-man stories work; no freaking way Gwen is the only one in this situation. Maybe Gwen is the one who's situation is most at stake considering Miguel was already wary of her for her relationship with Miles; however I can't imagine that if let's say, a spider doesn't want to go along with a canon event, they wouldn't let them stay.

"But OP! Miguel is just trying to be practical, you can't pretend he let people stay if they are putting in risk the mission."

Yeah here is what I have to say to that: Is absolutely horrible to let this scenario exist in the first place.

There is plenty of resources here; the Spider Society HQ has a weird architecture that couldn't had been cheap, all because is made for spider-people in mind. The place is HUGE, he is on the surface world (because unless I see evidence of otherwise, I bet my laptop that the underworld city is where crime and people without too many resources need to go, for not being able to afford the surface.) Not to mention all the technology they have should open to more possibilities, right? If not health wise (Miguel's world is probably more medically advanced that the ones of many other spiders, for example.)

There is no way, resources couldn't be use to help other spiders. I say it before, I find ludicrous that Jess, Miguel or someone else couldn't talk some sense into Captain Stacy. Or that someone could be supporting Gwen better in an emotional sense, because that poor teen needs some type of parental figure in her life and none of them have interest in it. Which again, is fine, but if you know there is this issue, as an adult who decided to take this teen, you should find someone willing to do it!

I do not give a shit that they are super heroes, is plain as day that Gwen has issues, and is looking for someone older and wiser to be there for her; I am not saying Jess should had done it because I can't blame her for not wanting that role, but if you can't do it and for some reason can't talk some sense into his dad, find someone!

Yes, there is a psych spider-man, but that is clearly not doing enough. Heck I wouldn't be surprised if the guy wasn't even good (like I get that he is a spidey and that he hears these stuff constantly, but imagine telling something that is traumatic to you, and your psych can't give less of a shit or even be sensible about the subject.)

They have these people in a choke hold, either obey, or you would get kicked out to horrible conditions.

I had been reading a few comics; Gwen's world SUCKS, if her world is half as bad as it is in the comics, I wouldn't want her going back, period. Peni also has some horrible circumstances; (her situation is better in the after school saga, but still.) I can't imagine how many others are in this exact boat.

Because is not just that this place is providing a safe heaven for Spiders, is also a community.

Spider-people tend to be lonely, a lot of them are in worlds where they are the only super hero, keeping this a secret for the safety of their love ones.

So you are telling these people who are normally abused in some way or another, who suffer from the loneliness of this job; that unless they behave and obey, they will lose the only community where they can be themselves, where they can ask for help, or have a place to rest.

And I can already see people typing angrily about the multiverse and it's well being, and let me put it this way: In the real world, if an organization (not just a company, but charities and such,) ends up having a work space that puts an unnecessary level of stress and fear for the people in it; wouldn't you be mad about it?

So why exactly I shouldn't want Miguel, someone that should be a good guy, care for the people that he has under his command? Wouldn't make sense that the people that need to take care of the multiverse are doing mentally well, considering that putting that type of strain in someone can also affect how they do their job effectively?

"But Miguel is not thinking about those things, he is focused to the cause! He just has his priorities, and wants his subordinates to understand how important is this too."

Hmm. So what I am hearing is that Miguel wants everyone to be ready to let whoever is necessary die, if not kill (because you cannot tell me Miguel "I don't always like what I have to do." O' Hara hasn't done it.) And leave everything behind for the cause, no feelings involved; and wants teens and young people who had no business being this pressured to do it as well.

Yeah this is not the argument you think it is. There is enough money, resources and people that there is no way this couldn't be run better, but is not.

But I feel I had gone long enough without bringing other sources into the table; so let's start with that shall we?

Understanding Cults: The Basics - Psychology Today

Isn't an interesting coincidence how this fits EXACTLY what happened to Gwen, to a T?

Is approached to, not even shown interested in joining on her own. Look at that screenshot from earlier, Gwen says "I don't know how to fix this," she wants to fix THIS, the things with her dad, to make her situation less messy.

She doesn't know what she is getting into, she doesn't even know that she will not be able to visit Miles yet. Much less canon and all that jazz.

Think about it for a second, Miguel sees a teen who has her own dad try to SHOOT HER, and what he sees is "well, another recruit." Tell me that it isn't a bit fucked up.

You could try to argue that Miguel offered his place so she could have a shelter, except that no, that's not what happens.

This happens after her dad already tried to shoot her, he may had stopped it, but he wasn't interested in recruiting her, not even after Jess is trying to convince him to let her in.

You know what happens? She says "I don't know how to fix this."

That's the catalyst.

I thought of finding a way to explain how, but honestly someone did a MUCH better job than me already.

Miguel's DESTRUCTIVE Idea of "SPIDER-MAN"

If anyone is bothered by me not leaving the explanation behind Miguel's reasoning, is because this conversation isn't about Miguel's mental health and reasoning. Because that's not excuse for this mess regardless.

The point is: Miguel wants people to help him fix this mess, and even if the logical conclusion here would be helping her out with her situation rather than just include her into this mess; Miguel isn't thinking about that.

I will not say is malicious in any way, heck he may think he is doing her a favour like this, but that's another problem, not an excuse. He is so focused on his goal that he leaves behind the well-being of his subordinates.

Which is a problem, by any measure you want to give it.

Let's go back to the sources shall we?

With this at hand, let's review

Do they enlist people without giving the entire story of what's is going on and deceptive ideas? Yes.

Because they enlist people saying they need them to help save more people and the universe, WITHOUT mentioning that some of YOUR love ones need to die.

I feel on this angle, I had already mentioned enough in the rest of the post.

It is authoritarian, with a leader that is controlling? Well what if we see the evidence?

Look how many angles he has here, is not even all of them, there was another with Gwen in another shot. I am not sure what type of camera or device he is using for this, but wouldn't you find it disturbing if your boss had THIS amount of footage of you while walking on your company?

It gets worse.

He is spying them in their downtime.

You could make the argument he had the right to watch over Gwen because she was technically on duty at that moment (it doesn't make it less creepy and honestly unless you are like a cop, I can't imagine too many jobs where is a good idea to have something record what you do at any moment.)

Except that you can see in the superior corner, that he has a video of Hobie playing; he doesn't have his mask so this is clearly not a mission. He is spying on people even OFF the clock.

Do any of you seriously think is a coincidence he did this with Gwen and Hobie, the "problematic" spideys?

Do you think Gwen and Hobie even know to the degree they are being watched?

(Sidenote, Miguel apparently has been looking over Hobie, yet seems unaware that he is making his own watches apparently, and maybe to which extend he steals. Hobie is so smart he fooled Miguel just like that. Another reason why Hobie is the best.)

You know something that bothers me about this? Is why is Gwen asking this?

Gwen is supposedly in the loop, she knows about canon, she knows about the ASM-90, but she is asking this, as if she hasn't been given that hard proof either.

Which goes back to the lack of transparency, but for this part of the discussion, the important thing is what Miguel does next.

Doesn't answer her question, menacingly towers over her until she almost falls back, and then kicks her out.

Do you notice the interesting part about this? He wasn't planning to sent her home, until she QUESTIONED his logic.

It wasn't about she going to see Miles, it wasn't about messing up with the spot; if it was about that he would had decided to get rid of her earlier, even the second she spoke her mind would had justified it, making it remember she was there.

Yet is not until she asks that, that suddenly Miguel decides this is enough.

Wouldn't you call that authoritative?

Let's go to the next part, the disrupt of personality; because maybe you think that's definitely not the case. Well...

You may read this and not think too much about it, but again, when you had been looking into cults and similar stuff before, this starts siren bells in your head as if he was talking about a doomsday.

Miguel is emphasizing how being Spider-man involves sacrifice, it involves pain and losing love ones. And you need to be okay with that.

You can see with Miguel that he prioritizes the job above everything else, he says that much himself really. And he expects everyone else to prioritize it too.

Sure, Peter is a loving father with clearly time for his daughter, Jess is pregnant; but you cannot tell me that if a canon event involved Peter losing his daughter, or Jess losing her kid; Miguel would say something different.

He expects people to follow canon events no matter how painful it is, and his justification for it is that it is part of the job that you signed for, so you need to be okay with this.

Because being a spider-person and the job should be above all else, don't you think that involves forcing an identity onto you so you obey better? Because you are first spider-woman over being Gwen Stacy, for example?

Tell me how much of this applies to the Spider Society, because for what I had gathered? None of this is allowed.

People aren't allowed to interact with who they want (like Gwen being obviously forbidden of seeing Miles,) if you question the leadership you may be kicked out; not complete information until you had proven trustworthy or there is no other choice.

And something interesting about all of this, is that is technically not just preying on the people with difficult circumstances like Gwen, though that is bad enough. But funnily enough...this all also uses the trauma and guilt of its eldest members to justify their actions.

BUT, I think that would go better with a part 2! I feel the topic while part of this discussion, deserves it's own post, specially since I will talk a bit about why I think Miguel believes so far in this theory, even if the evidence shows is flawed.

Look, I really, REALLY, don't want to call the Spider Society a cult; I don't even think the writers had that in mind when they did this; they just wanted to show that Miguel was flawed.

And is for sure, not as bad as other things that I had seen, things that had happened in real life.

However, this isn't a good look, this organization checks way too many boxes, enough to effectively give psychological damage; I can assure if this wasn't a super hero movie Gwen and other people will have to go through therapy for this. Heck even if this trilogy has a happy ending I wouldn't be surprised if the people need some psychological help once they realize they did horrible shit for nothing.

I feel there is another things, minor details that could qualify, but those feels almost nitpicky and inconsequential compared to the rest, and what some of what is left..

I don't think I need to give more reasons anyways; the Spider Society is harmful to their people, feel free to think otherwise but I cannot see an operation with this many red flags and not call it how I see it.

I don't know what's worse, this, or the fact that is not the worse thing I think Miguel has done.

But that's everything for now! Hope you guys like it, and if you have the chance, please donate on my ko-fi or share this post!

#atsv files #atsv #across the spiderverse #miguel o' hara #spider society #gwen stacy #jessica drew #hobie brown #miles morales

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coochiequeens · 1 year

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Men being the worst to women in war zones

Even as missiles pound Ukrainian cities and soldiers guard trenches, the war in Ukraine has maintained a stubbornly online element, as supporters from all around the world clash with Russian trolls and fascists. As someone who has refused to leave Kyiv amid the air raid alarms and kamikaze drone attacks and is chronically online, I find being Ukrainian in the age of social media simultaneously infuriating, uplifting, and just emotionally exhausting.

One of the oddest aspects of this is the focus on Ukrainian women’s looks. There has been a vigorous debate among Ukrainian supporters about why people tend to fixate on Ukrainian women’s physical appearances. That includes claims like “Ukrainian women are hot and good at cooking.” Personally, I haven’t found these remarks terribly offensive—although, perhaps, I’ve just got bigger issues to worry about at the moment. But the stereotypes concerning Ukrainian women (and Eastern European women in general) are troubling and potentially harmful—and they point to issues of gender and national identity that a postwar country will have to reckon with.

As in the case of any grassroots movement, the informal community of Ukraine supporters is prone to disagreements and internal debate. Discussions tend to be civil, even when the topics themselves are hugely complicated, such as whether Ukraine should have exchanged a Wagner Group mercenary for Ukrainian prisoners of war. Most of these discussions are purely theoretical: Ethical issues are discussed, military strategies are dissected in minuscule detail, and short clips of Russian President Vladimir Putin posing for the cameras are studied for clues on the state of the Russian president’s allegedly deteriorating health. But arguments over the descriptions of Ukrainian women are a little more personal.

Statements online range from well-intended but questionable generalizations to outright objectifying compliments comparing “naturally attractive” or “well-groomed” Ukrainian women to their “Western counterparts” (usually with the implication that Western women have somehow been ruined by feminism). The weirdest interaction I’ve experienced was a foreigner angrily reacting to my celebration of McDonald’s return to the Ukrainian market. He was adamant that Ukrainian women are good-looking because we live off a steady diet of fresh produce and simple, healthy, and home-cooked meals, and he even tried scolding me for enjoying the cheeseburger (and the brief illusion of normalcy) I had been dreaming of for months.

Users posting opinions such as these are also fond of sharing and reposting images of what a stereotypical Ukrainian woman apparently looks like—and although the traditional beauty standard for Ukrainian women has historically called for deep brown eyes, dark eyebrows, and tan skin, these images tend to portray buxom blonde and blue-eyed girls wearing heavy makeup. The men posting these compliments claim that they are simply appreciating Ukrainian women while supporting Ukraine’s struggle, but critics (many of whom are, coincidentally, Ukrainian women) call it creepy and perhaps even fetishistic. Complicating all this is that the most vocal foreign supporters of Ukraine online are mostly men.

Fetishizing women from other countries is common, of course, but behind all this is that the burden of lookism for Ukrainian women is one of the heaviest in the world—a reality rooted in the country’s post-Soviet history. Although vocal so-called appreciators of Ukrainian women claim they find Ukrainian women attractive because of their natural good looks, what they actually appreciate is the amount of effort Ukrainian women have learned to put into their appearances.

The fall of the Soviet Union brought along turbulent changes in both society and ideology—including gender expression. Although the Soviet idea of femininity demanded that women be flawless, resilient, and (in some ways) androgynous and asexual builders of the socialist utopia while remaining supportive wives and loving mothers, the 1990s brought along two new models of female gender expression. Hugely influential Ukrainian anthropologist and feminist historian Oksana Kis describes these two polar identities as the Berehynia (the hearth goddess, a pseudo-traditional model of femininity rooted in nostalgic nationalism and conservative ideas) and the Barbie.

As the name indicates, the Barbie identity adopted by women in young post-Soviet countries grew from a sudden influx of Western media and consumerism. It was also an identity borne out of sudden social change and an uncertain future. Millions of women, who had been an integral part of the Soviet workforce and who had at least been able to rely on state-provided child care and social support, ended up jobless in a largely lawless society where ruthless men were abruptly climbing to the top.

Although the Soviet ideology had convinced women that they had to carry the dual duty of being both comrades and mothers, the 1990s taught them that the surest way to build the life of their dreams (heavily influenced by suddenly available Western television and magazines) was to attach themselves to tough, aggressively masculine men on the rise to riches.

Looks became a widely accepted social currency—and, for a while, one of the only types of influence and power available to ambitious young women in Ukraine. Beauty salons rapidly opened up on every street while magazines—including the local versions of Elle and Cosmopolitan, which reached the Ukrainian market in the early 2000s—aggressively preached the importance of following the latest fads and keeping yourself thin and youthful-looking, pleasing your husband, and chasing away any real or imaginary rival. As women from Russia’s ex-colonies (and Russia itself) started traveling abroad more often and Western tourists discovered a new market, Slavic women became associated with sex work and a willingness to marry relatively well-off foreigners without asking too many questions.

Thankfully, the recent popularity of feminism (along with a general movement toward stability, democracy, and gender equality) has convinced Ukrainian women that they don’t have to limit themselves by choosing to be a traditional housewife or a glamorous gold digger constantly on the prowl for a husband.

Instead of telling their readers how to dress to find the man of their dreams, Ukrainian magazines have begun addressing matters such as politics, domestic abuse, sexual identity, personal finances, and wellness—although today, they are also forced to write about staying safe in the midst of a war or dealing with power outages. In turn, the women themselves are building impressive careers without having to bat their eyelashes at a perpetually horny boss. In fact, about 15 percent of the Ukrainian army is made up of women, as is more than 20 percent of Ukraine’s parliament.

Yet even this doesn’t deter people from objectifying Ukrainian women—just take a look at the comments under photos of Ukrainian servicewomen published online. The stereotypes are persistent—whether it’s in the relatively harmless form of Western supporters going googly-eyed or the far more disturbing language out of Russia. Online comments from “pro-Z” Russians on social media are packed with fetishistic sadism (for example, rape fantasies, queries about where to find a forcibly deported “Ukrainian refugee wife,” and just general leering comments) aimed at Ukrainian women and girls.

For Ukrainian women, this is hardly new: As with any colonial power, Russia has a long history of treating Ukrainian women as attractive but uncouth and naive provincials to be reeducated at best or exotic objects to be leered at in the worst-case scenarios. While 19th and 20th-century Russian poets treated Ukraine (or, as it was known to them back in the day, “Little Russia”) as an inspiring exotic locale populated by primitive but kind-hearted locals prone to superstition, not much changed after the dissolution of the Soviet Union.

In the early 2000s, a Russian remake of The Nanny aired and instantly became a massive hit. The main difference between the American original and the Russian remake? In the remake, Fran (who was stereotypically American-Jewish and street smart in the original) became Vicka, a Mariupol-born Ukrainian migrant worker who found employment with a sophisticated Moscow family. Throughout the series’ seven-season run, Vicka was the butt of the joke because of her heavy accent, lack of education, gold-digging tendencies, and vulgar behavior. (This included stealing small items, which one of the characters on the show openly compared to “Ukrainians stealing Russian gas.”) But she was ultimately portrayed as attractive enough to marry the rich, intelligent male protagonist. Even in 2022, this colonialist mindset hasn’t changed much—just last summer, Kremlin propagandist Margarita Simonyan fantasized about “Russians visiting Kyiv after the war and enjoying the local cuisine and fresh produce from Ukrainian farms just like in the good old days,” adding that “Russian husbands would be once again breaking their necks to stare at the dark-browed Oksanas (a general term Russians occasionally use to signify Ukrainian women).”

But even pro-Ukrainian admiration for Ukrainian women’s looks comes with a potential price. Seeing Ukrainians as so-called perfect victims who are owed sympathy purely because they’re good-looking, predominantly white, and symbolize a certain type of femininity isn’t helpful. What happens if someone decides that Ukrainian women, as a whole, are not as pretty or docile as they thought they were? Would that be a reason to support Ukraine any less? And in the context of a war where the invader is using brutal sexual violence, fetishizing women seems particularly uncomfortable.

Of course, everyone is free to voice their opinions—and I’m definitely not saying you shouldn’t compliment a Ukrainian woman you find attractive or that you’re some kind of monster for saying Ukrainians are a good-looking bunch. But in a country where good looks have been, in part, a survival tactic, maybe find something else to praise.

Oleksandra Povoroznyk is a Kyiv-based journalist and translator.

#Ukraine #Russia #Fetishizing women in war zones #Men being creeps #Business of beauty under capitalism

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windienine · 11 months

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hey! tumblr crowd! i'm way proud of the voice and gm work i put into this!

chuubo's marvelous wish-granting engine by the one shot actual play podcast is a short, ongoing AP detailing events in the life of the eponymous chuubo (played by james d'amato)-- an average fifteen year old boy living in the bucolic port district of fortitude who can rearrange time and space on a whim. joining him are seizhi (played by jeeyon shim), the anxiety-ridden untethered reality virus he has brought into existence to be his bestie, and natalia (played by darcy ross), a human girl allegedly ("allegedly") from the mysterious outer world known as earth who isn't fully convinced that any of this isn't her weirdest fever dream yet.

i want you to know what happens next.

i can promise you:

ghosts(!!)

evil scientists

weird stuff going on with The Sun

mushrooms (?)

encroaching cosmic horror

gay

questions about the distinction between humans, the dead and the holy

hot dog stand of questionable origin

other ?!

the titular game is a release by dr. jenna moran of nobilis fame, available now (and currently on sale as of 7/28/23) on drivethrurpg. it's got a lot of stories to share with you, if you let it.

if you ended up enjoying this over coffee, i'd love to hear about it! here's to more projects coming your way in the future. be sure to check out one shot's other projects as well!

#ttrpg #tabletop #indie ttrpg #actual play #ttrpg podcast #chuubo's #cmwge #nobilis #gaming

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ryanmarshallryan · 1 year

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Like a Set of Nesting Dolls - Another Vore Story

Jordan had swallowed me on a number of occasions.We both had so much fun every time he did that he hadn’t digested me yet, so that he could swallow me again and again. We lived far apart, so it was always an exciting occasion to get together through the years. This particular visit was exciting for more than one reason. For one, Jordan was bringing one of his friends, Nathan, who wanted to try a nesting doll vore situation. The plan was for Jordan to feed Nathan to me, and then Jordan would swallow me whole. It was going to be a feat for sure, but we were excited to try it out. Furthermore, I had been dating a cute guy named Drew for a few months and he wanted to learn more about my interest in vore, and what better way to learn than witnessing it. Jordan’s two boyfriends, Michael and Brad, were also coming over to round out the party, and I’m sure to cuddle Jordan from the outside while Nathan and I were snuggled up in his belly.

“Nice to meet you,” Jordan said to Drew before turning to me, “And as always, nice to eat you,” he continued, giving my belly a little shake. I gave a little laugh and pulled Jordan in for a hug. Jordan introduced me to his boyfriends and Nathan, and I introduced them all to Drew.

The 6 of us started the evening by going out for sushi together to break the ice. I caught up with Jordan for a bit on all the new things in his life, chatted with Brad about how he met Michael and Jordan, and got to know Nathan a bit more. I turned to Drew, who was wrapping up a conversation with Jordan, and asked how he was doing. He seemed a bit nervous, but excited to meet everyone.

“Hey, Drew, if this whole vore thing is overwhelming for you, we can all just have a fun, platonic cuddle party or something,” I said to him.

“No, I’m having a great time. It’s obviously something you want to explore, so I want to support you in your interests,” he replied. I assured him if his mind changed, he was fine to let me know.

After we were stuffed with various sushi rolls, we headed back to Jordan’s home to start the night. We played some board games, made ice cream sundaes, and had a giant cuddle puddle on the couch.

We began sharing stories of chaotic gay times we had all had. Jordan, Nathan and I talked about funny and sweet vore moments we had had. Like that time Jordan accidentally swallowed someone who jumped off a diving board into his mouth unexpectedly; or that time Nathan dressed up in a hot-dog costume at a Halloween party and had two preds argue over eating him, until one pred swallowed the other; or when my ex-boyfriend who didn’t understand vore tried to flirt with me with quirky phrases like “Are you ice cream? Cause you’re going straight to my hips… Get it? ‘Cause like if I ate you you’d be my fat,” without realizing that I was very much aware of that reality. Though Drew and Jordan’s boyfriends weren’t particularly into vore they shared stories of their weirdest dates and such.

After a lot of laughing and cuddling, Nathan changed the subject, “Do we have anymore whipped cream?”

“I think so, why?”

“I think it’s time for second-dessert… for some of us,” he said with a sly smile. He got up and got a can of whipped cream from the fridge and started spraying the cream all over his chest. “Someone wanna help me with this?”

Drew looked around and got up and helped spray whipped cream on Nathan’s back and body. Drew grabbed some of the melting ice cream and helped lather some onto Nathan’s chest. Jordan got up and got a little taste. He turned back to me.

“Are you ready to be stuffed?” Jordan said to me with a wicked smile.

“I don’t know, I haven’t swallowed someone whole before,” I said nervously, watching Nathan put on his funny attire of whipped cream and melting ice cream.

Nathan turned and walked over to me, straddling my legs, “I’ve heard ice cream is your favorite food,”

I was breathing faster now, “Sure is,”

“How much do you think you could eat in one sitting?” he asked, rubbing my belly, which was starting to growl and groan.

“I think my record is 4, maybe 5 pints?” I said shakily.

“Nervous?” Nathan asked. I gave a smile and a nod. Nathan looked down at my groin for a moment, “But obviously quite excited.”

Jordan sat next to me and put his arm around my shoulder and rubbed my side. He whispered in my ear, “Just imagine being fuller than you’ve ever been in your life. Ready?”

I took a deep breath. “All right, I’m ready. How are we gonna do this?”

Michael and Brad lifted Nathan up on both sides as Drew watched from the corner of the room. Nathan stuck his feet forward as Jordan whispered to me to open wide. They all pushed Nathan forward a bit and I got the first taste of Nathan’s sugary legs, coated in cool cream. Once that first taste hit, my body helped take over. I swallowed hard and felt my throat open. Jordan’s boyfriends continued to guide Nathan down my throat. I had to gently push Nathan’s hard-on down to help him slide easier down my throat. I felt my stomach begin to balloon out so I relaxed my abs to let my abdomen expand easier. I lifted my hands up and helped guide Nathan’s hands and arms into my mouth. I tilted my head back and helped lift Nathan’s torso up into the air to help gravity pull him down easier. Nathan’s eyes rolled back into his head for a moment in sensual elation, then he looked down into my eyes and gave a faint smile and shudder. Jordan’s boyfriends stepped back, as Nathan gave out one more moan, and his head slipped past my lips. I continued swallowing hard and felt him begin to curl up in my belly.

I didn’t even notice that Jordan was rubbing my stomach, helping Nathan to settle in on the inside. I gasped and caught my breath. Jordan reminded me to swallow some air for Nathan, too, and I did so. I looked over at Drew, whose eyes were wide with awe. “How are you doing?” I called out to him.

“How am I? How are you?! You just ate a whole person!” He exclaimed.

“I did, didn’t I,” I considered. I raised my voice to my stomach, “Hey Nathan, how are you?”

I heard muffled yells of enjoyment and felt him squirming rigorously about inside me. Drew came over and put his ear to my belly. Nathan pushed against my stomach and Drew felt the strange sensation. Jordan continued rubbing my belly for a bit, while Drew leaned in to kiss me a bit.

“Now that you’re nice and stuffed, how do you feel about becoming… the stuffing?” Jordan whispered.

“I mean I’m always ready to get in your gut, but do you really think you can fit me, and Nathan down your throat?” I teased.

“Of course! I could eat Drew too and not even notice!” Jordan responded.

“You could?” Drew interjected.

“Wanna find out?” Jordan asked Drew.

“Oh, Drew is just here to observe,” I started, but looking at Drew I held my tongue, “unless he’s changed his mind…”

Drew looked from my belly to Jordan’s. “You could swallow me whole?”

“Any way you’d like.”

Drew smiled, “I have an idea.”

Next thing I knew I was on my feet, and Drew was in the air being held up by Jordan’s boyfriends. Jordan stood at Drew’s feet and gave them a taste. Jordan held back and asked how Drew was.

“I’m excited but nervous,” he said.

“If you need to tap out just say the words,” I said to Drew, leaning in and giving him a kiss. Drew looked back at my lips, inviting me to kiss him again. I couldn’t tell if I had butterflies in my stomach or if it were just Nathan squirming about.

Jordan started slowly swallowing Drew’s legs, while I made out with Drew’s lips on the other end. We continued in this fashion until Jordan had swallowed up to Drew’s ribcage. I pulled back for a moment to check on Drew. Drew reached his arms over and pulled me back in for more making out. My hands held Drew’s sides, and I clasped my arms to his sides and slid them into Jordan’s mouth. We were getting swallowed altogether, all at once.

Michael and Brad let go of Drew, and started embracing Jordan and his ever expanding stomach. I held tight to Drew, kissing him deeply. I opened my eyes and saw that his head and my head were about to be engulfed in Jordan’s mouth. I breathed in through my nose sharply, and pushed forward.

Everything went dark, yet my sensations were on fire. My torso was being tightly squeezed all around by Jordan’s throat muscles, my lips and tongue were being stimulated as Drew and I explored each other’s faces, my stomach churning like crazy with Nathan squirming inside, and my legs lifted off the ground as I was pulled into Jordan’s throat. Within moments I was crashing into Jordan’s stomach on top of Drew.

I felt a large jostling as Jordan crashed back onto the couch with Michael and Brad. Drew rubbed my belly as we continued making out with each other, being squeezed from every which way. I felt Nathan rubbing my belly from the inside, so I pushed back against him a bit. I tried to rub Jordan’s belly from the inside too, as well as Drew’s body but it was difficult to know which way was which and who I was touching. Jordan’s belly kneaded my body tighter than ever before, probably because it wasn't used to stretching this much. Jordan’s belly squeezed so tightly I thought I might vomit, so I pulled back from Drew for a moment to catch my breath. I couldn’t really pull back, since my head just pushed against Jordan’s stomach walls, but sure enough I felt Nathan begin to travel back out of my esophagus and from my stomach into Jordan’s much larger stomach.

“Wait, whose stomach am I in now?” Nathan said, gasping.

“Is that Nathan?” Drew breathed out. I felt around and couldn’t tell who was who, as both were entangled with me and all of us were slipping and sliding, covered in various intermingled stomach juices.

“How’s everyone doing in there?” came the booming voice of Jordan from all around us.

The three of us exclaimed a chorus of various positive but cramped responses. It took us a while, but we found a relatively comfortable position of three-way spooning of sorts inside Jordan’s belly and we rubbed each other and Jordan.

After a while, the stomach acids began tingling more and more, almost too painfully hot.

“Unless you’d all like to become belly fat, which of course I would be more than okay with, it’s probably about time to let you out,” Jordan said.

“So how are y’all feeling? Are we getting digested tonight? Or wait to digest another day?” I call out to Drew and Nathan.

“I have work Monday, so I should probably, you know…” Drew began.

“... Become belly fat and never have to think about work again? I was thinking the same thing too!” Nathan said, laughing. We all laughed, Drew perhaps a bit more nervously than Nathan and I.

A few minutes later, after a strange slip and slide sort of adventure out of Jordan’s belly and throat, the three of us were taking a quick shower together to rinse off. We cleaned up and returned to continue cuddling on the couch, all 6 of us.

“I forgot you guys were here!” Drew said to Michael and Brad, “I guess I was focused on the people in front of me and, well, the stomach I was in.”

“It’s a pretty great stomach to be distracted by,” I say, rubbing Jordan’s belly.

“So what’s up for your next vore adventure,” Brad asked.

“I kinda want to try that hot dog suit one like Nathan,” I mentioned.

“We could make that happen…” Jordan mumbled as we continued dreaming about all the fun ways to end up in someone’s gut. Vore is a fun time.

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imaginmatrix · 7 months

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zutara au where katara is an up and coming model/actress and zuko is the closed off guy who serves her tea at the shop next to her apartment.

Okay. Look. Listen. Against all odds, despite them filling all my favorite tropes, I do not actually… ship Zutara. I don’t read fics of them, I’ve never written them— which is wild, right? Wacky? Crazy? Doesn’t make sense. I know. I agree. Idk.

So I wrote this anyway and I have no clue what the fandom is like or how they characterize these characters but HERE WE GO DIVING IN HEADFIRST ANYWAY LETS GO

Katara already knew her and her brother had wildly different priorities— but moving into her new apartment proved that Sokka existed on an entirely different plane of reality.

“My sister has the cash to live anywhere she wants, but she picks a place next to the weirdest building in the city.” He had grumbled the day of the move, which kind of pissed Katara off.

Not because he called the building weird, but because that was his issue with it.

He should have been far more upset with the fact that the skyscraper belong to Ember Corp.

Katara pointed this out to him, to which Sokka only shrugged in reply, “I figured you didn’t care about that seeing as you moved in next door anyway.”

And then she had to stomp away in a huff to stop herself from snapping at him, because that would be hypocritical and ridiculous; but it wasn’t like she moved in next to the corporation that demolished their family’s home and community for parking lots because she didn’t care!

She did care! A lot! Maybe too much!

But then that was why she chose this apartment; the skyscraper next door wasn’t just a skyscraper.

Like Sokka said, it was…

Weird.

Good weird.

To be fair, Ba Sing Se as a whole was a little weird— a hodgepodge of shiny, towering buildings and ancient temples and Spiritbucks and cobblestones and sky trolleys.

No structure could compare to this one.

From a distance, it looked like a regular skyscraper; the architecture was more creative than most, but it didn’t stand out.

Then one’s gaze would travel down, and there, at the base…

A tea shop.

An old tea shop.

It wasn’t even all that fancy, though there were pieces that hinted at a rich history— the small, painted wood pillars on either side of the door, the round windows with various designs etched into them, and the roof— oh the roof! A beautiful hip-and-gable one with the edges flared up and rust red shingles that complimented the muted green of the shop itself.

Katara loved it.

And the fact that a skyscraper had been built atop was so ludicrous it made her dizzy.

She’d once asked Toph why it was like that, and in turn Toph explained that the rumor was that the old guy who owned the shop had been offered a ton of money from Ember Corp for the location. He refused to sell, but reportedly told them he’d be willing to sell the air above his shop for the same price, and a promise that his shop would stay— he wasn’t selling the land, after all.

So they reinforced the shop and foundation to be able to bear the weight, and just like that, a new skyscraper had risen above the city.

Katara only went to the tea shop.

She wasn’t sure what about it was so enticing. Maybe it was how peaceful it was; even when the giant sliding doors were left open in the summer, the noise of the city never seemed to penetrate the shop fully. The smell of tea soothed her. It was soft, and sweet, and earthy, and strangely reminded her of home.

Which was wildly different in culture, but… she felt safe here. Like she had at home. Before it was taken.

That could be the reason she came— she liked seeing something old and ancient stand up to an entity like Ember Corp. It filled her with satisfaction to see something refuse to give in to intimidation, to be immovable in the face of “innovation.”

It was almost sacred in a way.

So she found herself stopping by every morning on the way to work— be it a photoshoot or commercial or audition— for some matcha to perk her up. And every evening, if the shop was still open, she’d grab a Jasmine brew on the way home.

The owner was so kind, a round, elderly man with a gravely voice filled with mirth. He insisted on being referred to as “Uncle Iroh,” which Katara didn’t mind. Sokka was her only family in the city, as their Gran and Father and what remained of their community migrated to the southern towns after their neighborhood was sold out from under them.

She could use an Uncle these days.

On one particular morning she was running late. She whirled into the shop, juggling various items while she searched her purse— sunglasses, phone, the audition packet, chapstick, planner, book for the trolley— ah! Wallet!

But when Katara turned to the counter, it wasn’t Uncle Iroh who she saw; a grumpy looking guy stood there, shaggy hair falling in gold eyes. Those eyes were what she noticed first, bright and intense and filled with an emotion she couldn’t quite place— anger? Contempt? For… her?

The scar, she noticed second. Which upon reflection was a little ridiculous, considering that the angry deep red color and mottled flesh took up nearly half of his face. Not that it should have been what people saw first when they looked at him, she was certain he probably hated it being pointed out, but it was hard to miss.

They stared at each other a moment.

“…Hi?” Katara ventured, less confused by the new employee than the fact that he apparently had no customer service skills. No “Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon!” or “Can I take your order?” or even a rude “What do you want?”

The boy’s brow just furrowed deeper, which seemed almost impossible, yet there he was— basically one big furrow at this point.

“…Um…” When it became clear the grumpy employee had no intention of being friendly, Katara ventured, “Can I have a hot matcha to go?”

She waited anxiously as he punched the order in, finally speaking, “That’ll be six yuans.”

It was Katara’s turn to be the furrower. “Six? It’s usually three, isn’t it?”

This was met with an eye roll and a breathy huff, “My Uncle is… let’s just say he gives discounts more often than he should.”

Katara lamented that the new price would likely mean she’d only have one tea stop a day rather than two, but didn’t argue as she zipped open her wallet, uninterested in prolonging this weird interaction that made her more and more late by the second. She passed the rectangular coins over, and the boy dropped them into the register before turning on his heel to prepare the tea.

That was weird.

But so was a tea shop with a skyscraper balanced atop.

She crossed her arms, checking her phone for the time over and over again. Why was this taking so long?

Katara leaned over the counter to see what the boy was doing, and blinked. The kettle was—

“Are you… are you boiling water?!”

He frowned back at her— though it was likely just a regular look, if frowning was his default state as it appeared to be. “…I don’t know how you make hot tea, but here we boil it.”

“Yes but—“ Katara cut herself off, biting her tongue so that she could calm the ever growing frustration bubbling within. Sokka said she was hot headed, ironic considering where their ancestors came from. Finally, she managed to speak with an even, calm tone; “You have a boiling water tap.”

“…A what?”

Dear Spirits, this guy...

“The owner, he only uses the kettle at night when it’s less busy, for a more authentic experience. In the mornings, he uses the tap— or an electric kettle.”

The guy glanced around. “Because the mornings are so busy?”

To be fair, the shop was empty at the moment. Katara wondered if it was due to the upcoming holiday.

“Yes.” Katara ground out through gritted teeth.

He shrugged in response. “There’s no rush now, so it’s not a big deal.”

“It is!” She finally burst out, “It is a big deal! I’m late for work!”

The boy seemed taken aback for a moment, blinking at her. Then his face hardened. “It’s not my problem if you didn’t leave early enough.”

“But it is your problem that you don’t know how to do your job correctly!” Katara snapped back.

This seemed to rile up the guy even more, his nostrils flaring, “I didn’t even want—“

He was interrupted by the scream of the kettle, and he turned his back on her to remove it from the heat. Katara rubbed the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache encroach on the edges of her consciousness.

It only grew when she looked up to see him dropping a teabag into the cup of water.

“What are you doing?!” She demanded, aghast.

He glanced up, confusion mingling with his frustration this time. “Making tea?”

“I asked for matcha!” Her voice was shrill now, but she couldn’t help it— who hired this guy?!

“…Is this not matcha…?”

“That’s green tea!” And in a bag rather than an infuser, no less!

“Matcha is green tea though.”

“It’s prepared differently!” Katara leaned further over the counter, her braid hanging over the opposite edge as she craned her neck, “Look, Uncle Iroh keeps the materials right there under—“

“Hey, don’t lean over here like that!”

“Or what?” She retorted as the guy stalked towards her, “Mad that I know this place better than you do?”

With the way his eyes narrowed, he was indeed mad about that. “No, I’m not— the money is over here!” He waved his hands at her in a shooing motion. At least he had the intelligence to know not to put his hands on her.

Katara snorted. “Do I look like a robber?”

“You look like a pain in the—“

“Nephew? I heard the kettle…” A sleepy voice interrupted them, and Katara quickly straightened from being sprawled over the counter as a bleary-eyed Uncle Iroh parted the curtains to stare at them.

“Uncle, this girl—“ he pointed, “should be banned from the shop.”

Uncle Iroh yawned, turning his gaze to Katara. Then he brightened. “Ah, Miss Katara, a pleasure to see you— picking up your usual, I take it?”

“Well, yes, but…” she hesitated. A moment ago she had been ready to go ballistic, but Iroh had called the guy ‘Nephew’… so he was his literal uncle? Tattling to family felt a bit childish. “It’s fine.”

“Is it now? Well, I see you’ve met my nephew, Katara, this is—“

“Lee.” The boy interrupted immediately, his hand flying up to cover the name tag pinned to his apron, “My name is Lee.” He looked meaningfully at his Uncle, who merely shrugged.

“He will be working here from now on, so I hope that…” Iroh’s voice trailed off as his gaze wandered to the cup of tea. He blanched. “Z— Lee, did Katara ask for green tea?”

It was Lee’s turn to go pale. “Well, she asked for matcha, and that’s basically—“

Uncle Iroh groaned as he hurried to the tea, nose wrinkling in disgust, “And a bag, too! Where did you even find— no, no bags! We use these!” He waved around an infuser wildly, and Lee grew more indignant.

“Well how was I supposed to know that?! Why do you have teabags if we don’t—“

“Never mind that!” Uncle Iroh bustled around, scooping the matcha into the chawan to whisk, “Clearly you are far worse off than I thought— what has your father been teaching you?”

“Business! And finances, and—“ a furtive glance was shot towards Katara, “and things way more important than making tea!”

“Bah!” Iroh finished whisking and began to prepare the drink, “Very few things in life are more worth knowing than this.” He snapped the lid onto the cup and passed it over the counter with a cheery smile, “There you are my dear, I hope it’s to your liking.”

Katara was already speeding for the door with a wave, “I’m sure it’ll be perfect as always— see you tonight?”

“We’ll be open— and I’ll make sure my Nephew knows how to at least brew jasmine by then.”

“Uncle.”

Katara jogged to the sky trolley stop, her mind racing a bit. Uncle Iroh said Lee would be working there from then on… and if today was anything to go by, her once peaceful escape was about to become a whole lot more stressful.

Unfortunately, slinking into the agency thirty minutes after she was supposed to did not go unnoticed. But the lecture about professionalism and punctuality in the industry was brief, and the day passed in a blur. Lee was nowhere to be found during her evening stop, though Uncle Iroh was appalled to discover that he had charged Katara full price for the matcha. He insisted on giving her the evening mug of piping hot jasmine at no cost, and she took up her usual place on the patio to sit and read and relax before tromping up to her apartment.

The weeks passed fast, and to Katara’s dismay, Lee was now there every time she stopped in.

Figures. Her luck had always gone overboard to balance out— placed first in the third grade spelling bee? Broke her arm on the way home. High school valedictorian? Congratulations, your childhood home is being bulldozed! Career picking up? An annoying man now works at your favorite place in the world.

…Maybe one of those things wasn’t like the others, but it still irked her.

But Lee didn’t speak to her again beyond the curt welcome he gave everyone, the exchanging of funds (he gave her the Uncle Iroh discount now,) and the call of her name when the tea was at the counter.

Katara didn’t like hearing her name on his lips. It was wrong. It made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle, made her body tighten and squirm in an uncomfortable way.

A fight or flight response, she reasoned.

And then one evening, he didn’t call it.

She was curled in the plush chair that Iroh always let her drag to the patio in the evenings. Days were getting longer again, so the sun hadn’t quite set yet, casting a golden glow between buildings.

The day had been exhausting; three auditions and two photoshoots. Katara had been up since 3am for the first shoot, but despite her yawns and heavy lids, she couldn’t resist the allure of Iroh’s tea.

Katara was reading. Well, she thought she was reading; but when the sound of a clearing throat made her eyes flutter open, the sky was much darker and the streets bathed in blue rather than gold.

Her head felt cotton-y in the way it did when one took an impromptu nap, and she yawned, looking up from her curled up position on the chair to see Lee standing next to her.

“Ah— sorry, is it closing time…?” She began to straighten out, reaching for her bag, but Lee shook his head.

“No, uh… no. I just… here.” He held out the teacup. “Free refill.”

Katara blinked, “Oh.”

Lee shifted uncomfortably, and it took a moment for Katara to realize what she was seeing; he was nervous. “If you don’t want it, I can—“

“No, no I do!” She nodded to the side table, placing the book that had become wedged between her and the cushions on it as well. “Tell your Uncle thank you.”

“Uncle’s not here.” Lee said. Then he hesitated. “I… I can tell him when he gets back.”

Katara reached for the cup. It smelled amazing, and she sipped at the rich, floral drink. It was different than usual, but good different.

So she took a deeper sip, licking her lips as droplets clung to them.

Her face lifted to Lee, who was shifting his weight back and forth anxiously. Anticipating.

And then it hit her.

“You made this?” She asked— since that first meeting, Lee had only made one of her orders when his Uncle had stepped out. It had been rather disappointing.

“Uh… yeah.”

“It’s really good.” To her surprise, Lee almost smiled, the corners of his lips tugging up as his body relaxed.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She confirmed. “Did you add something different…?”

“A few things— Uncle thinks that jasmine is best on its own but…” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I… got bored.”

“Well maybe you should be bored more often if this is the result.”

The furrow that lived between Lee’s brow and where another brow once grew smoothed in surprise— no, that wasn’t a strong enough word for it— shock? The emotion was fleeting, gone in an instant, though his face managed to retain its new relaxed state. “That’s the second compliment you’ve given me. Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket.”

Katara surprised herself by laughing. “You gave me a free drink, so maybe I should buy one too.”

Lee ran a hand through his hair, revealing how his scar stretched up to his forehead; “Well, uh, I should—“

“Do you want to sit for a second?”

Lee immediately, wordlessly dragged one of the patio chairs up next to her in response, flopping into it.

They sat in silence for a minute, watching the occasional car pass by.

Then Katara couldn’t help herself; “Why did you start working here? You didn’t seem like you liked tea all that much.”

Lee sighed, his hand mussing up his hair again; he did that a lot, as if he wasn’t used to having so little of it. “I… messed up big time back home.” His head tilted back to gaze up at the skyscraper that towered above the shop behind them. “So my father sent me here to… I don’t know. Punish me, I guess. Cut me off, told me I couldn’t come back until…” he trailed off. “…you know, I was lucky my Uncle even agreed to let me stay here. If he hadn’t… I don’t know what I would have done.”

Katara couldn’t imagine it— what sort of father would abandon his kid like that?

Sure, she felt abandoned by her own dad half the time, but… at least when he left, he did it knowing her and Sokka were safe and cared for. And at least she didn’t doubt that he loved her, as angry as she was at him for his choices.

She cleared her throat, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried—“

“No, it’s okay.” Lee’s voice had a rasp to it, the sound of someone trying to hold emotion at bay. “It… it was probably time I told someone about it. I haven’t exactly made a ton of friends here.”

Katara spoke before she even realized she’d decided to; “You can come out with me and my friends sometime.”

Lee tilted his head to her, a puzzled expression on his features, “…Me?”

“Do you see anyone else here?”

And then a real smile played across his lips, “Are all your friends hot shot movie stars too?”

It was once more Katara’s turn to be surprised. “You— that— I’m not even close to a ‘hot shot movie star!’” She laughed and tugged on her braid nervously, suddenly feeling shy. “You know who I am?”

“Yeah.”

“Since the beginning?”

“…Yeah.” His voice was softer, more reserved, as if the question had stirred something in him. Guilt?

Katara pressed on, not wanting to ruin the new atmosphere they’d built for themselves. “So you’ve seen me in… what, shampoo commercials?”

Lee shook his head, “Nah, my fa— someone my mom used to be friends with, uh… helped fund that one movie; Glacier Soul?”

“You… you remember me from that?” She laughed again, both delighted and aghast, “It wasn’t even a big role, I wasn’t a lead or anything— and I wasn’t great in it—“

“No.” Lee‘s voice was firm, no room for disagreement. If he didn’t sound so earnest, Katara may have assumed he was just being nice. “You were perfect.”

Katara shifted, warmth spreading on her cheeks. The prickle on her neck, the tightness in her body, those both were present now too; but it wasn’t fight or flight this time, was it? Had it ever been? “Well I… I’m glad you liked me. I mean, me in it. It was my first dramatic film and… and I’m just… glad.”

They both fell silent, Katara downing the rest of her tea to keep from saying more dumb things.

“So…” Lee was hesitating again. “When… when are you and your friends next…?”

“Oh!” Katara reached for her bag, rummaging for a pen, “Here, one sec—“ she grabbed her napkin and jotted down her number. “Text me when I leave, I’ll let you know next time we have plans.”

Lee seemed completely out of his element as he stared at the napkin she’d shoved at him; as if he couldn’t believe it was actually there. Finally, he nodded, “Right, yeah, that sounds— yeah. Good. Great.”

“Yeah?” Katara asked teasingly.

There was another hint of a smile when he replied with, “Yeah.”

Her body was heavy again, so Katara started to gather her things. “Well, good to know you’re not so bad when you’re not extorting people or serving them poisoned tea.”

Lee sputtered, “I… I haven’t done either of those things!”

“Mm, that green tea you tried to give me looked pretty deadly.” He seemed troubled despite the tease, and Katara nudged him as she stood. “Tonight though? That jasmine tea was ridiculously good.”

Lee relaxed again, understanding the jests now and looking quite pleased with himself, “I practiced.”

“I can tell.” Katara yawned and stretched, her body complaining after being curled up for so long, “Well, Lee, I’m glad I got to know you a little better.”

He was running a hand through his dark locks again, looking as if he were going through some sort of inner turmoil despite the small smile on his lips, “Y-yeah, me too, listen, uh…” he took a breath. Then another. “I’m… I…” and then he deflated, “I’m glad too.”

Katara said goodnight, made him promise to text her as soon as she walked out the door, and as she strolled to the next building over, she realized she felt light. Bubbly. Happy.

So their first meeting had been rocky; she couldn’t blame the guy for having a bad day, especially since it sounded like he’d been through the wringer shortly before that.

Why should a bad first impression affect this one?

Katara’s phone buzzed with a text, and when she pulled it out she saw a little fire emoji.

And then she texted back something that normally she’d never in a million years say.

‘Is this your way of saying I’m hot?’

Sokka would laugh in the face of anyone who implied his uptight little sister had flirted.

Lee’s reply was immediate.

‘What?! No! What???? It’s just my favorite!’

‘…wait, don’t take that the wrong way, I mean, I’m not saying you aren’t’

‘Uh’

‘I mean’

‘Can you just ignore all of that? Please?’

‘…Please?’

Katara laughed. Normally she might over analyze his panicked denial, worry she overstepped, but… something felt different about Lee. He was so serious, serious in a way that made her loosen up.

Her brother often told her she was a stick in the mud. And maybe she was, maybe she was austere and boring and too much a stickler for rules… But Lee made her feel like she was fun, too.

‘Ignore what?’

‘I didn’t see anything :)’

‘….thank you.’

She hummed to herself as she savored the taste of jasmine still on her tongue.

Maybe Lee wasn’t so bad.

And maybe… maybe now she had more than one reason to look forward to her morning matcha.

#anon #ask #writing prompt #morgan murmurs #zutara #zutara fanfic #fanfic #one shot

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