#clearly the world’s richest people haven’t!!!

[artemisiatridentata]

THIS IS WHAT IVE BEEN FUCKING SAYING!!! The rich, the heads of corporations and media that have been pumping out articles and thinkpieces and guidelines trying to gaslight the general public into thinking everything is fine and we should return to normal — they KNOW it’s all bullshit. They KNOW covid isn’t a cold. They are using top-of-the-line science and tech to protect themselves while they’re content to let the rest of us get infected over and over again until we become disabled or simply drop dead.

[Alt text: Tiktok video by @Imani_Barbarin on twitter.

“If you’re somebody not wearing a mask in public spaces right now, I hate to be the one to break it to you — not really — but you’ve been fucking played. Because these are the images that are coming out of the World Economic Forum [in Davos, Switzerland].

(Showing a screenshot of a tweet from an attendee showing a PCR test) First off, they’re testing you right at the door. You test positive for COVID, your bracelet gets deactivated. You refuse to test, your bracelet gets deactivated.

(Showing a screenshot of a tweet with a picture of WEF attendees sitting in a room, bundled up in winter coats, with a HEPA filter next to their chairs) There are HEPA filters in every room. And people are wearing jackets because they have the windows open.

(Showing a photo from the WEF of a group of people looking at a slideshow. All are wearing what look like KN95 or KF94 masks or similar, and there is a blue light on a pole that looks like a Far UV light, which is another layer of covid protection.) And look at that! Masks!

You all got fucking played. You all are out here talking about hustle culture and intergenerational wealth? There is none for you. There’s none. When you’re disabled, you can’t make money. No, because everything is reliant upon your access to healthcare, which has income limits, you probably can’t even get or stay married, in a lot of cases. And you all are sitting up here talking about ‘we’re gonna set up guillotines for the rich and powerful’. They already set up guillotines and you walked right towards them. This is what collapse looks like. We’re already there.” End alt text.]

[wilwheaton]

the scorpion doesn’t care who it stings

I posted this on my Facebook four days ago, and it seems to have taken on a life of its own for a minute.

I thought I’d repost it, here:

I can not fathom the emptiness, the insecurity, the insatiable need for attention and validation, the staggering arrogance, the malevolence and total void of human experience that is Elon Musk.

He's the richest man on the planet. You can't go anywhere or do anything without interacting with something he's part of in some way. There are literal millions of people who uncritically worship him, in spite of overwhelming evidence that he's a douchebag. Some number of them will come after me, as they come after anyone who points at their naked emperor. They'll spend entire days going after me and people like me, slavishly serving a man who does not even know they exist. They are his army of fools, uncritically serving his every whim. And it still isn't enough.

He can have any material thing he wants, and he will *never* be happy or satisfied. He has no real friends. Every single person around him is either a viper, a parasite, or both.

So what does he do? He bullies and threatens and harasses and trolls and behaves like the weak, scared, insecure child he has always been. That's a tragedy for him, but it's dangerous for us. He doesn't care what he destroys or who he hurts as he chases this existential thing he cannot ever have.

You know the saying "hurt people hurt people"? He's a hurt person who is hurting our society, making people I care about less safe. The consequences of this one man's midlife crisis are global, and that terrifies me.

In a comment, about an hour later, I added:

You know what's really interesting is the tiny number of people who are attacking and harassing me are either typical right wing idiots who all spew the same garbage from behind their wraparound sunglasses, or these weird nerds who are DESPERATE to justify how toxic and cruel and destructive Elon Musk is. Like, nerds, listen to Old Man Wheaton, please. 

Don't hitch your wagon to Elon Musk. There are countless people who are amazing and genuinely good, who do all the things we wish we could do. Stop defending this piece of shit who would push you into a volcano without even learning your name, if it would save him half a second on his way to his next shitpost on $8Chan (formerly known as Twitter).He doesn't stand up to anyone. He doesn't stand up FOR anyone. He is not your champion. He's angry and chaotic and destructive, and you have to understand that the scorpion doesn't care who it stings.

Finally, I want to add two things: 1) It’s interesting to me that a lot of the people who came to my post to be dicks used a lot of MAGA language. It reminds me of this thing my friend says about concerts: the audience looks like the band. Of course there’s substantial overlap between the angry, hateful, terrified, cowards who support Trump and the same who Stan Elon Musk, and it’s real interesting to see it in action.

2) I haven’t used Twitter for years. I quit before it was popular (lol) because it was better for my mental health. I logged in once when my book was published, and I deleted all my tweets when he announced he was buying Twitter. When he took over and immediately amplified a conspiracy theorist, I made my account private. In a perfect world, I would delete my account entirely. But I have to keep it for reasons I hope I don’t have to explain. After I posted this on Facebook, it made its way around Twitter (still is, four days later, which is ... a thing that is happening) and when people went to look at my account, they saw that it was closed. As much of a fucking manbaby Elon Musk clearly is, he didn’t do anything to my account. In fact, the only reason he even knows I exist (if he does) is through a vanity search of his name. I locked my account on my own, and so should you.

I am only on:

Tumblr

Facebook (itswilwheaton)

Instagram (itswilwheaton)

and my blog that I’ve been neglecting for too long at wilwheaton.net.

I’ve had a Reddit account since 2006, predating user-created subs! I’m u/wil there.

Okay that’s all. Thanks for listening. Please choose to be kind.

[chateautae]

maybe i do | kth. I

➵ summary :  maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳  part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre :  arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst 

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 11k

➵ warnings : swearing, alcohol consumption, anxiety, lots of feels about marriage, a stupid ex (reader’s), mentions of bad sexual experiences with ex (there’s consent, just bad sex that makes the reader feel shitty), does ceo tae count as a warning? 

➵ a/n: hello my first fic of my favourite trope arranged marriage, AND with kim taehyung?? yes pls !! this will be a series and I’ll be actively working on it so you don’t have to wait too long for chapters, i hope you can follow this series with me <33

chapter one : “my forever’s falling down”  

prev. ↞ || ↠ next  || masterlist

“Another one, Father? I thought I told you my secretary would be handling marriage profiles from now on. Stop concerning yourself with who I marry.” 

“But I do, son. Trust me, I know this girl, she’s the daughter of a trusted friend and I think she’s a good match.” 

“Father, everyone you choose for me I dislike and it’s distracting me from my work. I don’t need this right now.” 

“She’s different, Taehyung. I personally know her and I’m certain you won’t say no.” 

“And why is that?” 

“There’s something about her you won’t refuse, son, you’ll notice it when you meet her.” 

“I don’t want to meet her, Father. Like I said, I need to work.” 

“I just knew you’d act this way. Want to know something, son? I’ve made her part of a business deal, you can’t back out of this.”

“What? You made her part of a business deal?! Why would you-”

“Because you wouldn’t have given her a chance otherwise, you haven’t been giving anyone a chance since I’ve been setting up potential partners for you and I’m sick of it. You said you were open to an arranged marriage, where’s that attitude now?”

“Because, Father, I have a company to run and that’s-”

“No. I will not allow you to reduce your life to just this company. There are far more enjoyable things in life than a business.”

“But Father-”

“No, Taehyung. One thing you need to learn is balance. If you don’t give anyone or anything a chance you will live a lonely life behind your desk. Even in this cutthroat world of business where you can lose money or be betrayed by anyone at any moment, the most painful thing to suffer is loneliness, and I won’t let you live in this world alone.”

“Dad-”

“You will meet this girl, Taehyung, end of discussion.” 

“Dad! I told you I want nothing to do with your company, how could you let me get dragged into this?!” 

“Y/N-ie, I know you value the life you have without any of my help, but let me help just this once, especially with finding a husband. I’m being offered the deal of a lifetime and I can’t refuse, he just happens to be part of it. I need this for the company, please.”

“But Dad, I don’t even know him. And if he’s the CEO of some rich company he’s probably an asshole, I’m not doing this.” 

“Y/N-ie, trust me, I know his son. He’s a sincere, hard-working man, I promise.”

“Yeah, right. Even if that’s the case, I still don’t know him, let alone love him, Dad. How can you make me marry someone I don’t love?”

“Because you can learn to love him. There are no rules concerning the way two people should fall in love, love doesn’t always need to come first.”

“But Dad-”

“My daughter, I have not asked you for many things in my life, but this is one thing I must ask of you. Please, just meet him, don’t say no without even trying.”

“Dad, I don’t know-”

“Please, Y.N, do it for me. If not for the company or money, please do it for me.”

And here you were, fidgeting with the tips of your nails, tuning in and out of the present world and overthinking every aspect of your life that somehow lead you to this moment. Sitting on a Leather Italia couch in what was described to be Mr. Kim’s study; listening to your father’s incessant, albeit wholesome chatter next to you with your future in-laws across. 

And next to them was their suave, unreadable son sitting in a relaxed manner, flipping his attention between your fathers’ conversation and anything else in the room.

You on the other hand, were utterly high strung due to the fact that your father failed to mention your future fiancé’s identity until 30 minutes before arriving here, having done a quick search in the car to unveil who he exactly was.

And that’s when it hit you. You weren’t marrying just anyone, you were getting married to Kim Taehyung. The infamous CEO of Kim Enterprises—Korea’s largest software development and manufacturing company, rivaling to be one of the largest in the world. He was part of Seoul’s most prestigious circle of businessmen, having made multiple Forbes international lists of Most Successful, Youngest, Richest, and is even one of Korea’s most eligible bachelors, not just Seoul.

If this wasn’t already taking you out, then it was definitely the fact that his photos through a measly Google search did him absolutely, utterly and completely no justice. They simply could never capture the truth of just how handsome Kim Taehyung was in real life. You couldn’t deny it, he wasn’t just good-looking, he was stunning, gorgeous, seemed as though God had created the universe, heaven and hell in 6 days and left the 7th just to create him. 

He was like a work of art, worthy of being placed in the finest of museums and left untouched, unsodden by the ugliness of humanity. It made you feel extremely inferior to him in an instant. It was sickening, he was sickening, intoxicating, and quite frankly, intimidating.

It was his look, his undivided stare when he eventually settled his sight on you. It didn’t matter his dark hair that landed and perfectly curled above his eyes, the way he occasionally licked his plush lips or how his long, tall legs spread out before him, it was his look that made you want to turn tail and run.  

It seemed to reach into your soul, peer straight through whatever façade, walls or defense mechanisms you could spend years building only to have his simple look tear it down in minutes. He was alluring, captivating, left you wanting to cower into whatever hole you could dig yourself into or discover all the secrets he hid behind those enchanting eyes.

Kim Taehyung was many things you couldn’t quite wrap your head around, though you assessed your priorities and decided they didn’t just include him, but mainly the significance of the current meeting taking place right now. 

It wasn’t a mere one-time business deal to discuss a project, it was a meeting that entailed the partnership of both your family companies and would define the next however many years of your life. More specifically, spending it with the exact same man that looked at you without a single readable expression on his face. 

You distracted yourself by trying to observe as many useless things as you could, flitting around the room many times before suddenly glancing at Taehyung’s index finger coming up to rest against his lips.

You zeroed your vision in more. 

Is that a cut on his finger?

“Jae-in, of course! This is just as important to me as it is to you, your son is a remarkable CEO, and I’m sure he’ll make an amazing husband.” 

“Aish, Namhyun, you flatter me too much. My son may be handsome, though your daughter is even more beautiful. I’m very sure she will make a wonderful wife.”

“Yes, Namhyun, your daughter is absolutely gorgeous! Just as gorgeous as her mother. I know she wasn’t able to make it, though may I ask where your wife is tonight?” 

“Ah, unfortunately, she’s out of the country. Though I was hoping my presence would be enough to fill in for her, am I doing a bad job?” 

Laughter erupted from the parents in the room, meanwhile, Taehyung couldn’t help but notice the way you immediately winced at the mention of your mother. Something he definitely wouldn’t miss with the way he found himself examining your every move. 

It was habitual to him, something born out of his roots in business, only for the purpose of calculating and reading people like an open book. 

He knew you’d also become victim to that habit, though oddly enough, he found himself quite interested in observing you. He had already figured you out; you hated business, there was a clear disconnection between yourself and your father’s company and you reeked of a sense of independence that funnily contradicted the antsy way you bounced your leg. 

Your way of speech, however, mannerisms, gestures, your look; it was all professional enough you clearly have some sort of background in business. You seemed like an heiress to Taehyung, which you were, though you oddly had no interest in business?   

All these details piqued his interest, curious of just who you exactly were, but he was mainly intrigued by the mysterious claim his father made upon mentioning you for the first time. 

‘There’s something about her you won’t refuse.’

That had raked Taehyung’s brain consistently for the past hour now, crossing his legs loosely and his arms folded over his chest, contemplating over and over again as he looked at you, what’s so damn special about her? 

‘You’ll notice it when you meet her,’ the words rang in his ears.

That was the driving force behind his calculation, observation, near inability to take his eyes off of you as he learned new things nearly every minute and led him closer to understanding his father.  

He could tell you were an anxious person, though hid it behind a persona of false confidence. You had a tendency to stick close to your father despite observing you don’t rely on him for much of anything, even less your mother. The softness behind your every movement despite being from a business background where you should be harsh, rigid, rough around the edges, and yet you seemed entirely different.

Taehyung then realized how inherently dissimilar you were to many of the other women he met. They were all relatively of the same cut and look. Cold, sharp, cunning. All women of pure business; daughters, granddaughters or straight CEOs of wealthy companies, simply interested in marriage as a deal or an advantage rather than a commitment. 

And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that. Taehyung was a man of business himself, married to his work, his home behind a desk and the company the only thought occupying his mind 24/7.

But with you, you were interesting, unlike the others and it made him curious.

Taehyung also couldn’t help but notice you were...pretty. You weren’t too overly sexy nor too innocent, you were pretty. There was an elegance to your looks, features like your hair and eyes complementing you as a whole, and he couldn’t miss that you felt oddly...warm.

Taehyung found himself beginning to understand his father’s original viewpoint, considering the possibility he could’ve been correct. 

You just seemed different. 

“Ah, that seems to be everything. Exact details about the wedding have already been put in place by us.”

“Yes! We’ve been waiting for our TaeTae to get married for so long. We’ve had plans for months now and we can finally move forward with them! You and Y/N don’t need to worry about anything!” 

“Mom, did you really just call me that in front of my future fiancé?” 

“Oh, let it go, son. It won't be long before she calls you that, too!” 

Taehyung could only playfully roll his eyes at his overly excited mother, you scrunching your nose at the embarrassment.

“That’s incredibly generous of you, Mr. and Mrs. Kim, though my conscience is not one to let such things go. My family should contribute to the wedding in some way. Y/N and I would be happy to do so.”

“Why don’t we discuss that outside? I believe we should give the future couple some time alone, shall we?” 

You and Taehyung exchanged a quick look before standing up and respectively addressing either’s parents, Taehyung shutting the door behind them once they exited and having turned to look at you, an awkward silence piercing the air. 

There it was again, his look. It was irrefutably the one reason you avoided eye contact with him, you felt he would swallow you up if you shared even 5 seconds between each other.

“So...” Taehyung suddenly broke the ice, eyeing you.

“So...” 

“Marriage, huh?” 

“Yeah, marriage. Never done that one before.” If there wasn’t a time you vehemently hated yourself, then it was undoubtedly now. You internally facepalmed at your dumb comment, adding a laugh at the end in embarrassment only to look away. 

“Uh..yeah.” Taehyung laughed awkwardly. “Me neither, if you didn’t already know.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and looked away, you fidgeting by the couches everyone previously occupied. 

A beat of silence passed as you both exchanged looks between objects in the room and each other, either of you pursing your lips or blowing light raspberries to cut the awkwardness. 

“I wanted to ask you something.” 

“Hm?” You turned towards him, lips just a pout as your doe-eyes awaited him. 

Taehyung didn’t miss that at all. 

“Um, your mother. I apologize if this is intrusive of me, though I couldn’t help but notice I’ve never actually met her. May I ask where she is?” 

You let out a dry chuckle before answering, another detail that didn’t slip Taehyung’s attention. “Trust me, Taehyung, one thing you’ll never have to worry about during this entire ordeal is my mother. She should be the last thing on your mind.” You assured him with what he could tell was your fakest smile, distracting him from the realization you’d said his name for the first time.

“Are you sure? I’ll be meeting her at the wedding so-”

“You won’t. I don’t think you will. Even if she does make it, it takes very little to impress her, just be yourself and she’ll love you.” You stated with a sense of finality, as though the topic should be dropped. 

“Be myself? I’m one of the best businessmen in Korea. It’s my job to get people to like me, easy stuff.” He casually gloated. 

“You don’t only have to be a businessman to do that,” you paused and looked at him, “you can just be Kim Taehyung, too.” You spoke nonchalantly, eyes lingering with his for longer than 5 seconds and he, in fact, had not swallowed you yet. 

Taehyung instantly furrowed his eyebrows, taken aback as if your suggestion was something outlandish, absurd, maybe even offending.

Nobody has ever said such a thing to him, not throughout the entirety of his life. 

Taehyung tried his best to recover, searching for another topic of conversation before he was cut off by your rather soft voice, he noticed. 

“Oh, I wanted to give you this.” You stepped towards him, reaching into your purse and retrieving something Taehyung couldn’t quite see. You strided over and extended your hand, Taehyung finding himself even more confused.

“A bandage?” 

“Mhm. For the cut on your finger. You should probably clean it and apply something before putting this on.” You stated nonchalantly once again, offering him a small smile whilst holding out the bandage. 

“Uh...” Taehyung started but couldn’t complete his sentence, lost on how you even observed something as small as his cut and spoke of treating it like it was an actual injury.  

After his struggle to form a sentence, you grew bold enough to gently remove his hand from his pocket and place the bandage in his palm, looking back up at him. You shared a momentary look with his chocolate eyes, instantly scrambling after realizing your hand was still in his.

He has really big hands. 

“We should um...probably go.” You avoided his eyes, stepping aside quickly to pull the door open.

Taehyung’s mind felt displaced, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the fact that someone had actually left him with nothing to say, an extremely rare occurrence in his book.

He was even more displaced looking at the measly wrapper in his hand, then at the cut on the side of his finger, playing through the last 5 minutes of what just happened.

He scoffed to himself.

‘There’s something about her you won’t refuse.’

It had been 3 weeks since that meeting, not having seen Taehyung once as you wasted your time enjoying single life luxuries before you prepared for one of marriage.

It still felt odd to say such a thing, marriage, because it didn’t even feel like one, or a real one at that. It was forced, fake, a pressured one out of convenience. It felt more like a deal, something Taehyung and yourself had to settle for in order to keep your parents’ minds at ease.

That thought racked your brain all those 3 weeks; Taehyung had to settle for you, he didn’t choose you, just as much as you settled for him and didn’t choose him either. You both had ultimately agreed to the marriage only in an effort to optimize your parents’ happiness, not your own.

You had no clue how he felt, a mystery as much as the Bermuda Triangle, knowing he most certainly had a grand pick of women to choose from and you were most definitely his worst option.

You knew you were suddenly dumped on him, leaving him no choice in the matter as you learned your marriage entailed a beneficial business deal between your fathers’ companies, and Taehyung couldn’t really refuse you with so much on the line.

You had already felt inferior to Taehyung since the moment you met him, though your insecurities seeped further into the crevices of your doubtful mind the more you thought over that sad fact, contemplating a married life with him. In your opinion you were pretty much undesirable to him, Taehyung probably kicking himself knowing he had to unwillingly call you his wife for the rest of his life. 

You just knew you weren’t good enough for him, you would never measure up no matter how hard you’d try and that utterly terrified you. You were confident and independent when it came to yourself, though wedding a near perfect being regarded as one of Seoul’s finest in terms of a CEO and a man? 

Confidence be damned, this dude was intimidating. 

These were the feelings that swarmed your head as you sulked at your over-the-top engagement party, set up in a prestigious buildings’ gorgeous 37th floor riddled with baroque styling and embellishments, classical music gracing some of Seoul’s wealthiest patrons as their flutes clinked and snobby chatter filled the hall. 

It was all extremely high-status, reeking of upper class supremacy and quite frankly, it made you want to throw up.

You distracted yourself by bringing any and all types of alcohol to your lips, trying to focus on anything but your daunting thoughts.

The entire night you hadn’t talked to Taehyung, both of you having been too occupied with the numerous amounts of people meeting and congratulating you. This became a genuine nuisance as you’d mentioned before, this marriage was of convenience, one that brought families and companies together merrily and constituted hundreds of people attending your engagement party you didn’t really know.

Your friends were excited, over-the-moon you bagged a man like Taehyung and chastised you for not having told them about your engagement to him earlier. Your relatives similarly scolded you, pinching your cheeks and praising Taehyung like he was a God while they scrunched their noses at you for concealing him.

How could I tell you when I didn’t even know myself?, you thought.

It was funny they praised your ‘choice’ of a fiancé, positive nobody was saying the same to Taehyung without at least lying. The public only knew of you as your father’s daughter, never having seen you due to your vehement absence from anything remotely related to his company, and much of the business world in general. 

You weren’t part of that world, a world of greed and money-driven lunatics. It just wasn't you. It never suited you, left you with a bad taste in your mouth you constantly grimaced at and thought maybe you were the insane one for not understanding its flavour. As you grew older, however, you came to realize it simply wasn’t the path meant for you, someone who valued the independence and achievement of earning something for yourself, by yourself.

Ever since the inception of that principal, your young teenage self resolved you didn’t want to rely on your father’s wealth, especially not his influence or power to achieve your own place in life.

Your father had worked determinedly hard for years in order to stand as high he does now, warranting your acute admiration for your role model of a father, his now successful architecture business landing him a few buildings part of the Seoul skyline.

And after finally achieving his dream, it suddenly morphed into your own aspiration. His hard work drove you to want your own design part of Seoul’s breathtaking scenery as well, by means of your own effort, your own hard work. You didn’t want your father’s help. It felt wrong, like you were cheating if you used him to gain your place and so you condemned your life to one that separated yours and his. 

So you lived, worked and earned money without any of his influence.

You worked for an average architecture company where you felt comfortable, happy that you were away from the suffocating high-status business of your family. And although your detachment left your identity a mystery to many, your situation on the other hand was an extremely infamous one.

‘The-runaway-heiress’, was your staple trademark. The judgmental comments about your choice of life and the insults it warranted were never-ending, subjected to that criticism all your life.

There was no doubt Taehyung was hearing all of that, people probably warning him to step out of the marriage before it was too late. You weren’t like Taehyung, who was perfect, desirable, someone everyone either wanted or wanted to be. It left you glad and quite frankly, proud to be wedding a man of such caliber and incredibility, though left you wondering why in God’s name he would ever agree to marry someone like you; average, average and well, average.

“That’s your 5th shot, Y/N, slow the fuck down.” Your best friend Hana’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, snatching the shot glass from your grasp. “It wouldn’t be cool if you were trashed at your own party, dummy.” 

Her sudden appearance brought a smile to your face. “I know, I just don’t feel well.” You sighed by the counter of the bar, seated atop a stool as you circled an empty shot glass mindlessly. 

“I get you, there’s like, hundreds of people here and you’re probably hearing a lot of different shit.” Hana appealed to you, having read your emotions like an open book. “Speaking of people, I wanted to ask, what’s up with Taehyung and his stare?”

You stifled a snort, looking at Hana’s incredulous face. “It’s just a habit of his. He stares at everyone.”

“Okay... sure, but I didn’t mean everyone, I meant you.” Hana emphasized, comically pointing.

You furrowed your eyebrows at her, arm leaning against the bar’s counter as you questioned, “What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t really stop staring at you, which is kinda weird. Unless you like that, I don’t judge people’s kinks.” Hana mockingly held her hands up in surrender, gauging a reaction out of you. 

You instantly grimaced, “It’s not a kink, Hana. Nice joke by the way, wanna sign up for SNL with that one?”

“I’m serious! I’ve been catching him just looking at you and I don’t know if it’s weird or hot.” Hana informed as you became more puzzled, her becoming oddly excited, “Awh, maybe he’s concerned with how much you keep drinking! That’s so romantic.” She chimed, looking off into the distance dreamily.

“Shut the fuck up, he wouldn’t do that.” You smacked her arm, snatching your shot glass back from her. “Besides, you’re one of the rare people who knows this marriage is fake, you know he doesn’t care.”

“Jheez, way to kill romance?” Hana rolled her eyes, smacking your arm in rebuttal before continuing. “I’m serious, though. This may be fake but he really does keep looking at you, and I don’t know what it means.” Hana speculated, contorting her lips as if in thought.

“It means nothing, Hana. You’re just seeing things.”

“Then why has he been staring at you depressed by the bar for the last half an hour?”

You nearly spit out your drink, “What?”

“Are you clueless or just dumb? He’s been talking to someone for 30 minutes but most of the time he’s been looking at you, and he still is, how haven’t you noticed?”

You creased your eyebrows in surprise as you slowly lowered your shot glass. You turned away from Hana to scan the small crowds of people mingling, eating, drinking in the hall.

You searched the room, drink still in hand until your eyes caught tall, dark and handsome in his finely pressed suit, casually standing with a drink in his hand by a table speaking to someone. You nearly jumped when your eyes locked with Taehyung’s, every cell in your body caught off guard.

What made your heart specifically race was the way he didn’t even look away from you. He held your gaze, casually conversing with the person in front of him, eyeing you until he finally cracked a small smirk before turning back to his companion.

Your eyebrows practically shot up to the sky.

“See, weird or hot? Am I even allowed to say hot?” Hana blurted as she reveled in your reaction. “And you really thought I was joking. You don’t believe anything I say, I could tell you the world’s ending and you wouldn’t believe me. I could tell you aliens finally invaded the planet and you wouldn’t believe me until the green motherfuckers knocked on your door themselves and-”

“Hana, shut the fuck up.” You cut her off abruptly and made a face at her. “Why did you even come here?”

“Grumpy, aren’t we?” She flashed you a sarcastic look before sighing. “Your dad wanted me to find you. You and Taehyung have to meet someone important, so you should stop drinking like an alcoholic, dumbass.” Hana informed hastily as she grabbed the shot glass from you and downed it herself.

“Your dad’s by the entrance, go before he gets mad!” She shooed you away, pushing you up until you whisper-yelled and smacked at her to let you go. 

You began stepping towards the entrance, smoothing over your dress and this was the moment you realized you may have drank a little too much. You were quick to reprimand yourself, cursing your unprofessional behavior as your inner equilibrium became slightly woozy, senses drowning out a bit, every sound hazed over with a buzz in your veins.

You sucked in a breath to pull yourself together, knowing your dad valued this person enough you and Taehyung had to meet them together. 

Taehyung.

You decided to glance in his direction, lips pursing seeing he wasn’t in his previous spot. You chose to ignore it, walking along until you felt a looming presence behind you, almost having time to acknowledge it before a hand suddenly touched the small of your back. 

“Looking for me?”

You nearly squealed, jumping with a hand ready to punish before calming down at the sight of Taehyung, sighing with relief. “Jheez, could you use my name? I thought you were a stranger.” 

“Well, hello to you too.” Taehyung quipped sarcastically. “And why would a stranger touch your back? Of course it’d be the only man in this room marrying you.” Taehyung narrowly eyed you, scrutinizing your reaction with his hand still pressed to you.

“People do a lot of whatever the hell they want, Taehyung.” You responded turning away from him, heels clacking as you continued to pace towards where your father stood. “W-why’d you do that, anyway?” 

Taehyung furrowed his eyebrows. “Because we’re engaged?”

“It’s not real, though.”

“It’s as real as it gets.” Taehyung finalized, making it a statement to smile at everyone you passed, to which you realized just how many pairs of eyes glued themselves to you. “This may not feel like a real marriage to us, but to the rest of the world it is.” 

He then suddenly leaned himself down to your height and lowered his tone, breath just ghosting your ear. “Y/N, we have to make this seem real, it’s the only way we’ll survive.” Taehyung was the closest he’s ever been to you, and the deep baritone of his voice as he called your name did absolutely nothing but manifest butterflies in your chest. 

Why was his voice so deep?

You shook the thought out of your head, ultimately choosing not to say anything because he was in fact, correct. You grinned widely continuing to mask the truth of your arrangements, leaning into him more as you settled for his hand on your back.

You’d noticed it before, but his hand felt particularly large against you now that he was so close. You glanced at his other hand resting by his side, impressed by how masculine they appeared; long fingers with running veins and a roughness to them, sculpted so well you were sure they deserved to be referred to as art. It tickled your giddy side for a second when they seemed to perfectly contrast your more feminine and smaller hands. 

It was kinda cute. 

You neglected your thoughts once you neared your father, warm-heartedly conversing with a well-dressed man you just about recognized. 

“Ah, there you both are!” Your father cheered, reaching out his arm so he could envelop you in a side-hug, returning Taehyung’s bow and addressment.  

“Dad, I heard you wanted us to meet someone?” You perked up in a superficial tone, at least attempting to act as though everything was fine and dandy in your life; maybe owing it to the alcohol to endure all the falsehoods.

“Yes, Y/N-ie, I wanted you to meet Mr. Won. Chang-in, my lovely daughter and whom I guess you already know, her fiancé and CEO of Kim Enterprises, Kim Taehyung.” Your father proudly presented you both.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Won, Kim Taehyung.” Taehyung was the first to address the man, extending his hand and bowing as he greeted him. You were almost taken aback by how polite he could be, the way his charming smile graced his features and attractively displayed his perfect teeth. His manner of speech and etiquette were all refined with a high degree of professionalism as well, internally gawking at his duality.  

Wasn’t he acting all entitled with you just now? 

“Nice to meet you as well!” You collected yourself and cheered, a little baffled as to why Taehyung still rested his hand against your back. “I’m hoping my father has only said good things.” You earned a laugh from the group, Mr. Won responding by receiving your hand with a firm shake. 

“Ah, Namhyun, you forgot to mention how beautiful your daughter has grown, and your future son-in-law has me jealous! What a handsome and accomplished young man, the perfect match, the two of them.” Mr. Won praised you both kindly.

You and Taehyung both smiled and thanked him humbly, feeling some heat collect in your cheeks upon Mr. Won’s words. You two? The perfect match? Unless he believes a rock and a Greek statue belong together, then he’s absolutely correct. 

Other than that, you chest swarms with butterflies thinking you’re now referred to as ‘two’. 

Taehyung for some odd reason encircles the curve of your waist suddenly, pulling you closer to him. You last minute sputter at the intimate action before leaning into him, one arm nervously encasing his torso as the other rests against his chest. 

You feel him tense underneath you. 

“Aish, you’re such a flatterer. Y/N-ie, do you remember Mr. Won? My friend from university? You haven’t seen him in a while.” Your father rested a hand on your shoulder, trying to jog your memory. 

“Oh, you mean Mr. Won from SNU?” You suddenly remembered, looking to your father for confirmation. 

“Yes, so you do remember!” 

“Of course I do, how could I forget!” You smiled brightly and returned your gaze to the familiar man. “Mr. Won used to sneak me ice cream when you wouldn’t let me have any, Dad.” You scolded him with a playful jab to his arm, inviting more laughter. “I apologize for not recognizing you right away, it’s been a long time, Mr. Won, forgive me.” You solemnly apologized, Mr. Won giving you a look of understanding. 

“Ah, forget it, Y/N. Don’t worry about it, although since it’s been a long time I hope you remember my son? He should be here somewhere..” Mr. Won trailed as his eyes fished over the grand hall, scanning around. 

“Your son..” You repeated to yourself, realizing there was a familiar connection itching at your mind, he was your age actually-

Wait. 

Oh God, not him. 

Anything but him. 

You felt raw panic seep into the spaces between your ribs, your chest filling with a constricting feeling of anxiety you couldn't shake off. Your heart picked up speed and the alcohol coursing through your veins didn’t help your judgement or memory at all, mind fogged over with the poison we dare call alcohol.  

You felt stupid, so utterly stupid. How could you forget Mr. Won and who his Godforsaken son was? 

You felt an anxiety attack riddling you, shifting your weight on your feet as you tried to bite back your uneven breathing. You just couldn’t see this man, especially in a situation where you were standing next to your husband-to-be. 

Taehyung wasn’t so invested in the conversation before him, mindlessly nodding along before he felt you physically freeze next to him, his glance to the side confirming your pale look, watching as your panicked eyes faltered to the floor and revealed... fear? 

He registered your odd shifting and your failed attempts at plastering a smile, confused if you knew this guy and if you did, why were you freaking out so much?

Were you in love with him or something? 

The thought minutely bugged him until he watched you turn straight up uncomfortable, horrified when Mr. Won called out his son’s name. 

“Kiseok-ah! Come here!” 

You stopped breathing when you heard the name, eyes going wide as you avoided eye contact with anyone in the group, but caught Taehyung’s undivided attention. He grew curious when Kiseok sauntered over to the group, your hand on his chest suddenly squeezing his suit as the mysterious man greeted everyone respectfully.

Taehyung watched as his intrigued eyes locked on you, eyebrows perking up amusedly as his lips curved into a smile Taehyung honestly couldn’t admit to liking. 

“Y/N? Wow, long time no see. It’s been what, a year?” The man Kiseok called out happily, like there was absolutely no problem occurring here but as Taehyung felt your hand clutch onto his suit, lips just about quivering before you forced a smile, he knew there was most certainly a problem. 

“Yeah.” Your voice was weak, small, and Taehyung found himself wondering how a courageous person like you was all of a sudden cowering. 

He’d heard it all night, all the accounts of your other life away from the business world. He wasn’t going to lie, he heard a multitude of opinions concerning you, many of which including either looking down on you or telling Taehyung there’s many other, more powerful women in business he could’ve been marrying instead. 

But Taehyung didn’t care for their opinions, he found you the most powerful woman he could ever marry, and agreed to do so because of that very prospect. Sure, you were estranged from the business scene and practically abandoned any role you’d play in your father’s company in order to pursue your own personal aspirations, but if anything, Taehyung found it highly commendable. 

Taehyung knew it took guts to do what you did, a bold and daring act that no other heir or future heir of a wealthy company could ever think of doing, including himself. 

What he found to appreciate most was your unwillingness to give in, where you had to have heard all the back-handed and snobby comments, yet you still held your head up high, remained rooted and adamant in keeping your current way of life. It instantly signaled to him you were courageous, fearless, unable to be stopped in your tracks.

So when he watched you become smaller and smaller the more you stood in the vicinity of this Kiseok, he knew something was sincerely wrong. 

“Ah yes, it’s been quite some time. Why don’t we step away from you three? You could do some catching up.” Your father urged as he motioned Mr. Won to step away with him. You lightly addressed them only to have your hands neglect Taehyung entirely and start fidgeting, attempting to calm your nerves as the alcohol inebriated your system and magnified your anxiety by tenfold. 

“Ah, yes, Kim Taehyung, CEO of Kim Enterprises. I’ve been meaning to meet you.” Kiseok extended his hand as his voice irked you with every syllable, trying your best to seem like absolutely nothing was wrong. 

Taehyung reached out his hand in response uneagerly, giving a small shake while wondering why you let him go. “That’s news to me, nice to meet you.” Taehyung responded, already feeling an intense aura of discomfort and tension between you both, sensing he was missing out on something that seemed 6 ft deep. 

“Likewise. Y/N..” Kiseok suddenly turned towards you, making you wince. You painted on your smile as you lifted your vision. “Kiseok.” 

“How’ve you been?” 

“Better than ever. You?” 

“Marvelous, just wondering what your life’s looked like since I haven’t been in it.”

“I believe I said better than ever, didn’t I?”

Kiseok scoffed unamused, “So a year, huh? In all that time you suddenly found yourself a fiancé, and Kim Taehyung at that?” Kiseok seemed to be making light-hearted conversation to anyone outside of your group, though you knew deep down the hostility behind his words.

“Yeah, I did. It just happened.” You shrugged, gaining the confidence to counter him. “And you? Plan on putting a ring on any of your girls? Maybe the 5th or 7th one you liked?” You sarcastically questioned, furrowing your brows in mock contemplation. 

“No, you know I’ve always had my eye on one girl when it came to marriage.” Kiseok eyed you knowingly, purposefully, like he was trying to make it obvious.

You snorted and glared at him, “If I remember correctly, your attitude said otherwise.” hatred began boiling under your skin. You felt yourself growing angrier by the second, memories between you two coming back in flashes. You didn’t even realize you were shaking until Taehyung’s hand suddenly entangled with yours, pulling you towards him almost defensively. 

You were surprised, looking at your connected hands and back up at Taehyung. He returned your look, peering down at you as he smiled warmly, affectionately. 

“I’m sorry, Kisook? Was it? My future wife and I have plans for tonight. May you excuse us?” Taehyung didn’t even let Kiseok respond before he was pulling you away, in complete shock at his first lack of manners you’d ever seen. You were only left to watch Taehyung as he lead you along, gaining the timely opportunity to realize he was taller than Kiseok, and in fact significantly taller than you. 

Taehyung was a large man in general, you noticed. His shoulders looked broad from behind, accentuated by the fit of his suit which also emphasized the expanse of his chest, tastefully exposing his sculpted neck. His legs were long, proportioned perfectly in accordance with the rest of his model-like figure, which was ideally fit and contained just the right amount of muscle. 

Dear God, you took your time with this one. 

You didn’t even realize Taehyung had pulled you into a secluded hallway or that you were ogling him when he suddenly stopped, turning in your direction and snapping you out of a near fever dream. 

Yeah, alcohol was not a good idea tonight. 

“Who the fuck was that?” 

“What?”

“That douche, who was that?” Taehyung inquired slightly pissed, in need of the asshole’s identity after watching whatever shitshow he didn’t pay for. 

“Nobody, Taehyung, he shouldn’t concern you.” You looked away from him, pouting in a way that made Taehyung momentarily notice the plush of your lips. 

Again?, was all he could think, first, your mother, and now this guy? Just how many people did you have bad connections with and he needed to ignore? 

Why were there so many intricate pieces to you? 

“Are you kidding me? He concerns me now, your mother I can understand but this guy? Nothing to me. I could step on him.” Taehyung proclaimed confidently and stood up broader, conviction written all over his face.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his remark, resembling the thought you had earlier. “I was just thinking, you’re a lot taller than him.” 

Taehyung couldn’t help but bite back a smile, watching you giggle like a shy high schooler and his ears gladly welcomed the soft sound. “Damn straight I am.” He adjusted the jacket of his suit suavely. It was then he remembered what his other hand was doing; still holding yours. 

His eyes suddenly gleamed with mischief. 

He squeezed your hand a little tighter and yanked you towards him, bodies just centimeters apart as you crashed into him, all up in each other’s personal space.

Your eyes widened in complete surprise. 

 “So you were thinking about me, huh?” Taehyung teased with a stupidly lowered tone, a smug grin decorating his face. 

You ignored the electricity shooting through you, rolling your eyes and playfully sneering at him. “Shut up, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see you’re taller.” You forced space between you two and tried snatching your hand from him, but his grip transformed into an iron lock. 

“Says the one who was thinking about me.” 

“Taehyung, shut-” You almost huffed out but as soon as you stepped away, your copious consumption of alcohol suddenly attacked you all at once, vertigo making you lose your balance until Taehyung reached out to steady you. 

“Jheez, did you have to drink tonight?” Taehyung chastised you as you fell into him, head spinning with disorientation and growing flimsier by the second. “You’re probably a lightweight at your size.”

“I am not a lightweight. You don’t even know how much I drank, it was a lot.” You bit back in rebuttal, hooking onto his taut forearms as he supported you. 

“But I did see.” He voiced barely above a whisper, causing you to snap your vision up at him incredulously. “What?” 

“Nothing, it shouldn’t concern you.” Taehyung mocked, though still tried to fix you onto your own footing.  

You didn’t even get to scrutinize him further when you felt another round of dizziness plague you, balance faltering again. Taehyung huffed out and finally flanked you on his side, arm encasing your shoulders as he adjusted you. “Okay Miss I’m-Not-A-Lightweight, you should eat something.” He fit you beside him, beginning to walk you towards the main hall. 

Taehyung in this moment didn’t understand what he was doing, utterly clueless as to what was fueling his actions. He was uncertain why he found himself.. caring? He didn’t even know you, yet he couldn’t help but become a little concerned when he watched you down drinks like it was New Year’s Eve. 

How can all that alcohol fit into one tiny person?

What was he even thinking when he dragged you away from that Kisuk guy? Why did he feel like protecting you all of a sudden? A near sense of possessiveness? He wasn’t even your real husband. 

It started giving Taehyung a headache. This was all strange, a foreign concept he wasn’t familiar with and he didn’t know if it was the result of his considerate personality or only manifested solely because of you.

The same way Taehyung dealt with his inner turmoil, you dealt with yours; you were always so adamant on independence though ironically found yourself leaning on Taehyung.

Oddly, you let him carefully guide you back into the hall with no protests. 

It was the day of the wedding. 

You wish you could recall your emotions throughout the day, certain there would be at least a sliver of a positive one. Though as you remained unmoving, nearly catatonic, unresponsive to your surroundings, you knew there wouldn’t be a single happy memory in the tsunami of sorrow that attacked you today. 

Emotions of grief plagued consistently as you realized the loss of everything you valued most in your life. Your happiness, your freedom, your ability to choose. The stripping of all those bundled into an stifling wad in your chest that left you in a perpetual state of wanting to cry.

The sting in your heart when you realized your mother didn’t bother to come, the excruciating smile you forced onto your features when Taehyung’s mother delicately placed the veil atop your head, the secret tears you shed after adorning your body with a wedding dress you didn’t even choose; it all left you internalizing feelings of utter agony. 

And none of it was your real choice. 

Even the flowers at the wedding weren’t your favourite. 

This day was horrifying. You couldn’t believe you prided yourself on your independence, refusing to give in despite numerous challenges and never taking a word of what anyone said to you. Even when someone begged you to change or come back to your old life, you always chose for yourself. You never allowed someone to push you around, seldom coerced into anything solely based on the wishes of another. 

Yet here you were, standing just before the grand doors of a wedding you never asked for, having easily followed every word of your father’s and sacrificed your deepest principles in order to make him happy, to appease and live up to his expectations that weren’t your own. 

It was utterly frightening, appalling. As if you had lost the one true commendable feature of the intricate character you were, suddenly lost the acclamation of others even if they didn’t know the true nature of your marriage. 

But what disgusted you the most was truly, that you had lost respect for yourself. 

These grim thoughts were the ones that attached themselves to you as you hesitantly hooked your arm with your father’s. You used every ounce of strength to not flee, to remain here, to still walk down that isle with your head held high like you always have despite abandoning every foundation of the character you’d spent years working on.  

You didn’t care that your eyes watered, masking them with the facade of happy tears from the blushing bride. You didn’t care when your father looked incredibly concerned and wondered what was so wrong, you didn’t care how sorrowful you may have appeared to anyone at this ironically glamorous event. 

Though what you did care for was that you couldn’t hold your head up as you walked down the isle, vision fixated on the ground as your tears betrayed you, spilling out at the traumatizing feeling of not being able to stand tall like you always did, something stripping you of your self-reassurance, your strength, your confidence.  

It all spelled the requiem of your soul as you reached the end, dwelling in the impossibility this was happening to you until you felt the touch of Taehyung’s fingertips, guiding you up the stairs. It was then confirmed to you this was in fact real, part of your new reality you had no choice but to accept. 

You suddenly felt eternal gratitude for the veil that now covered your face, hiding the tears you cried at mourning the loss of everything you worked for.

While the priest’s words were read, you didn’t exchange a single look with Taehyung, knowing you’d only want to evaporate into the air, to run away at light speed or have someone in a turn-of-events suddenly take your life, just so you didn't have to face the humility of giving up the life you’d spent blood, sweat and tears building if you looked him in the eye. 

You felt the weight of your unknown future crushing you, pushing you towards the precipice as you gripped Taehyung’s hands harder to ground yourself. 

You were to rely on Taehyung, to share a bond with him you had never spent time cultivating, expected to live a life next to him while never being able to truly understand him, know him, love him. The natural process of falling in love now tainted with the coercion of a pressurized marriage, losing the opportunity to achieve any true sense of love. You’d never experience finding the one anymore, your soulmate, the other end of your red string of fate. 

That realization made your tears spill harder, disconnecting your hand from Taehyung’s to prevent your choked sobs becoming audible, holding your palm against your quivering lips. 

To anyone beyond you and Taehyung, it would look as though you were crying tears of happiness, joyously weeping at your matrimony with the love of your life, though as Taehyung felt the shaking of your hands, your refusal to meet his gaze as you reluctantly walked down the isle, the agonizing pain he could see through the sheer of your veil, he knew you were far from happy. 

He couldn’t help but purse his lips together tightly, knowing you were probably swallowing insurmountable torment down your throat because of this marriage, and tears pricked at his own eyes finding himself able to relate. 

He wasn’t just upset for you or himself, it was the entire situation, quite frankly the fucking world. The fact that the universe planned this as your destiny, his destiny, that the happiness of your parents and two companies came at the expense of both yours and his.

He knew you didn’t hate him, that he wasn’t the reason just as much as you weren’t the reason either, it was the arbitrary nature of the arrangement. That whatever version of true love and happily ever after you and Taehyung had separately dreamed of, it could never come to life. 

Even if the company meant everything to Taehyung, his CEO position more important than whatever position he’d play as some husband, seldom having time to consider love and relationships, he still harboured the same wants and desires any human would. A partner, a companion he truly loved with whom he’d start a family eventually, create a life for them and himself defined by love and comfort.

Though Taehyung only knew now you would both die with your decision-making capabilities robbed of you, bound to each other forcibly without the ardor of real love. 

Taehyung’s every thought was proven correct when the two of you exchanged your vows in near strangled chokes and shaky tones, appearing as happy emotions to the guests of the wedding though only you two knowledgeable of each other’s suffering. 

Your vision finally met Taehyung’s once you heard the rawness in his voice, your miserable emotions doubling when you registered he was just in the same pain as you. It was in that moment the priest’s words became audible and rang loud in both your ears, suddenly grounding you two to earth and reminding you of your reality. 

“You may kiss the bride.”

Both of your eyes grievously locked for a moment of horrified realization; that you were seconds away from going through with this, throwing each other’s lives away for the utilitarian benefit, abandoning any sense of choice in whom you both would spend a lifetime with.

Taehyung swallowed thickly as he removed your veil, feeling his eyes fill with tears again when he laid them upon your utterly devastated, tear-stained face. You were using every nerve in your body to stop yourself from sobbing and caving into the ominous thought of fleeing the ceremony.  

Taehyung’s sight wondered to your lips as they still quivered, nearly swollen red at the intensity in which you bit them, awaiting the kiss you were certain would be filled with frustration and hatred, hatred for the mud you were dragging him through, hatred for pressuring him into suddenly valuing something more than his work and his company, to suddenly become a husband to you. 

Though as he watched the terror flashing through your eyes, tears watering your lash line, he knew he could never feel anything so ardently negative towards you, remembering exactly what he was stripping you of. 

The life you built on your own, defying any and everyone’s expectations of yourself, cursing your heir status to hell, your strength, your independence. Now? Your life was bound to his, bound to one where you were obliged to sacrifice yourself for your father’s company and the upper class cesspool you’d spent so long trying to run away from. 

So as Taehyung began closing the gap between you two, nearing your shaking figure, he resolved he wouldn’t make this hard. He would try, try to accept that his life now entailed you, would try to work towards the balance his father insisted he needed, try to understand that you were now part of his priorities and could never simply ignore you.  

He glided his thumbs against the back of your hands that held his pacifyingly, leaning down until he was just inches from your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut. He unexpectedly spoke quietly, meaningfully, seconds away from sealing the deal of an uncertain future, though, remained certain of this one thing. 

“I’ll take care of you, Y/N, I promise.” And he kissed you in a single breath, no haste, no pressure, only the gentle touch of his lips as they met yours, soft and light. 

Maybe Taehyung didn’t know the exact feelings behind his promise, but he knew the meaning; that no matter the arrangement, the non-existent feelings, the loss of choice, he would at least take care of you like any husband would, a good husband.  

He at least owed you that.  

You were left shocked at the nature of his kiss, Taehyung’s warm lips connecting with yours tenderly. You were convinced the tears you saw in his eyes were enough to assert he hated this, frustrated he had to sell his soul, wishing to only rush the kiss so he could call it a day and ignore you for the rest of his life. 

Though what you never expected was the promise he made, or the way he kissed you with such intimacy you found yourself melting into his touch, reciprocating. He kissed you like you were fragile, locking your lips in a way that solidified his promise, as if out of all the empty vows you spoke today, this was the one, true vow he would keep. His lips felt plush against yours, catching his mouth just a little more before the bittersweet disconnection. 

You and Taehyung exchanged a poignant look, small smiles decorating both your faces with a mutual understanding swimming in your eyes as you gripped each other’s hands. You let his promise permeate the air between you two, finding solace in his words as the applause of everyone attending the ceremony filled the hall.   

Maybe it was the warm way Taehyung always pressed his hand to the small of your back when you spoke to others the whole night, maybe the way he veered you away from excessive amounts of alcohol with a light-hearted scolding considering that last time you drank, or maybe even the way he gently held you during your first dance..

Maybe it was all these considerate, kinds act that made you view Taehyung in a less negative light and rather a favourable one, that maybe he wouldn’t be the asshole CEO you’d first accused him of being.  

You would also be an idiot to not mention how completely and utterly handsome he was, looks carved by the Greeks themselves, quite possibly the hottest, most attractive man you’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. 

And maybe all that accumulated into your assured opinion that when it came to consummating your marriage with Taehyung, you’d have no qualms or worries whatsoever. You would be absolutely willing, ready to take the night on and maybe even have some fun for yourself with whom you could tell was a really, really nice guy.

Though as Taehyung walked calmly in front of you towards your hotel suite, reaching into his suit pocket for the card key he’d retrieved at the front desk to swipe against the lock, your chest clogged with a crushing feeling of anxiety you couldn’t subdue. 

These weren’t the same nerves of maybe being not pretty enough, body insecurities or fear of what to expect from Taehyung, no, these nerves came from the utter panic of having to experience sex with another man.

Especially since your last partner. 

It always started with your permission, that wasn’t the issue, Though what left you afraid, so utterly frightened with the thought of spending a night with a man like this came from the treatment you received from that partner. 

Safe to say, you weren’t treated kindly. Far from that, actually, you were treated as though you had no needs or were a means of simple use. Your last partner was the opposite of giving, he was selfish, self-absorbed and only concerned himself with his own pleasure, going on and on only until he was satisfied and neglected you in every sense of the word, sometimes even refusing to listen to you if you protested. 

To make matters worse, he wasn’t faithful. 

You knew he slept around, a lot, it was the number one reason you never agreed to actually date him, never make things official. 

But the reason you would end up sleeping with him was because of the most perfectly imperfect concept among the human race; love. You believed every time with him was a new chance to make that love real, that it was the genuine manifestation of your feelings for one another, thinking maybe he wasn’t the asshole he always portrayed himself as and could man up enough to love you unconditionally. 

And he completely reeled you in, made you fall in love too quickly and made you believe he was capable of love. This grew exponentially when you were often described as ‘the different one’, the one he always came back to, that you were special. You clung onto those words as much as you could, convinced each time you were in fact the one for him, that maybe one day, he’d wake up and abandon his fuckboy lifestyle and mature.

But everyday that went by, every promise that was never fulfilled, every word that wasn’t met with an action, and especially after every hook up that resulted in nothing new, you began to understand you were everyone’s favourite role in a Shakespearean play. 

The fool. 

You were a joke to believe anything he said, the most naive person on earth to think you were any different from the others, when every night simply ended in rough fucks, virtually no orgasm and miniscule aftercare.

It left you essentially scarred, traumatized that every man in the world was built like this. It didn’t help that whenever you look back, many of your ex partners were of the same cut, the same trope of assholes that don’t seem as bad but end up being exactly so. 

It was what made you swallow thickly as Taehyung opened the door to the suite, holding it open as he moved aside to let you enter first. You walked forward and unintentionally brushed against him, realizing how much smaller you were in comparison to him all over again. 

He towered over you, and it made you more nervous. 

You looked up at him momentarily and quietly thanked him as you stepped inside, setting your sights on the large, king sized bed situated on one side of the room, a lounging area with couches to the other side which lead to a bathroom. Seoul’s breathtaking skyline was visible in the dark of the night through wall-to-ceiling windows opposite to you, covered by flowy, sheer curtains. 

You took a deep breath, trying to remind yourself Taehyung was not the same. Not all men are the same, you can’t inflict the mistakes and wrongdoings of one man onto another, categorize them into one kind. You wanted to think this way, and you knew it was the humane way to think. 

But as the memories of those heart-aching nights filled your head, the empty words, the lack of care or concern, the neglect, the feelings of pure abandonment and use only caused your heart to beat profusely in your chest, clutching onto the neckline of your dress to breathe. 

What if Taehyung really was no different?

It then suddenly hit you you didn’t know him. All you knew of Taehyung was that he was a fiercely successful business man, sitting atop Seoul’s most prestigious with Godly looks and a stare that could kill a man. You remembered your initial feelings about him; his stare in fact intimidated you, quite frankly all of him intimidated you, he was the epitome of perfection and you were far from that very notion. It left you thinking you didn’t measure up, and that he could view you in a dissimilar light than you viewed him; an unfavorable one. 

He could simply not want you, but is forced to.  

You’d observed his kind behavior and actions over the odd two days you met him, though that was exactly the inculpatory factor; you had only met him twice. You didn’t know what he would be like alone, when it was just the two of you, when there weren’t eyes scrutinizing him and cameras snapping shots of his every move. 

You didn’t know how he would be like in the bedroom, either. 

Your mind raced as you conflicted with yourself, trying to understand that Taehyung could be different, though apprehensive with the miniscule knowledge you actually had of him. 

You discerned after that last asshole of a partner you needed the love and care of a real partner, someone who would tend to your needs, adore you in the midst of their actions, be a giver and not just a receiver.  

And you didn’t know if Taehyung would be that partner. 

“Y/N...” Taehyung called out to you rather softly as he removed his suit jacket, the rustling of the cloth signaling he had indeed done so. His footsteps were hard to miss, the soles of his shoes sounding against the hardwood floor as he neared your lonesome figure standing in the middle of the room. 

Your breathing quickened with nearly every step he took, attempting to resolve the civil war you were battling within. You were trying to convince yourself Taehyung would be a nice man, a nice husband; though couldn’t help but feel deflated by the fact it was all mainly coerced out of him.

Your thoughts overwhelmed you as Taehyung finally stood behind you, mere inches from your back as he watched you from behind, unbeknownst of any feelings or thoughts currently riddling you.

He hesitated, though gently placed his hand against your bare arm, the sudden warmth of his hand against your skin causing you to flinch. He peered down at your smaller self squarely focusing in front of you, anticipating your response. He grew slightly soft when you tentatively looked over your shoulders, clearly teary-eyed. 

Taehyung couldn’t miss how scared you seemed, and he his heart inexplicably stung at the thought you were afraid of him. 

“We don’t have to do this.” Taehyung’s voice was low and resembled warm honey, reverberating in a way that made you ease up. 

You worked towards a stable voice. “W-we don’t?” 

“No, we don’t” His voice held no disappointment, only the intention of seemingly wanting to assure you, firm and oddly comforting. 

“I’m sorry, Taehyung. I’m really sorry.” It was hard to keep your tone leveled, clutching your hand over your mouth as you swallowed your emotions. 

“Don’t be sorry, there’s nothing for you to apologize for.” 

You strangely felt the desire to hold his hand that rested against you, though you ignored the urge and simply stepped out of his touch, clutching your chest tightly in an effort to cower away from him. But it was here you suddenly remembered that he kissed you, and the way he did so. 

It made your cheeks fill with a rosy blush. 

“Do you mean that?” You’d finally turned to meet his eyes, his face only visible by the moonlight illuminating the room. He seemed to have retracted his hand and stood with both tucked in his pockets, relaxed. 

This became the first time you noticed just how ravishing he looked tonight. 

His dark hair was slicked back loosely and left enough pieces to fall as a comma, graciously exposing his forehead, his Tom Ford suit attractively hugged his model-like body, watch and accessories accentuating his expensive look. 

His features were casted over by soft lighting, somehow adding to his beauty as the glow made him appear... less intimidating, dare you say warm or inviting. 

His expression was funnily enough, one that you could actually read. He held no contempt, no impatience or anger, only a hint of consideration as his calm eyes looked at you. His face may have been predominantly blank, void of a smile, though certainty held a form of reassurance.  

“Of course I do, why would I do anything with an unwilling person?”

You scoffed lightly, “Not a lot of people would say that.” Your eyes faltered from Taehyung’s and clutched yourself tighter, expression completely telling of trauma.

Taehyung instantly picked up on it, eyebrows slightly furrowing at your words though softening once registering their weight. He felt an overwhelming sense of apology take him, thinking of his next sentence before his mind oddly flashed back to the night of the engagement party.

“Y/N, did Kiseok..?” Taehyung trailed hesitantly. 

You winced at his line of thinking, “No, no...not what you’re thinking,” you immediately denied. “Just, shitty experiences.”

“Shitty, as in...?”

“As in only seeking self-satisfaction, neglect, lies, infidelity. Can we go to sleep?” You deflected with a heavy sigh and a hand at your temple, the day’s events catching up to you.

Taehyung nodded in agreement, “Yeah, sleep. We both need that.” His eyes then landed on the bed, registering even if it were large enough you two could sleep apart, he still opted for caution. 

“Um.. you can take the bed, by the way. I’ll sleep on the couch-”

“No, don’t do that.” You replied quickly. “I can’t sleep on a king-sized bed all by myself, it’s huge.” You side-eyed the massive mattress and laughed a little, lightening the heavy aura casted over the room. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomf-”

“Don’t worry, Taehyung. You don’t make me feel uncomfortable.” You smiled at him lightly and received a small one from him, both your eyes mirroring the same sense of understanding you exchanged at the altar. 

“I’ll let you wash up first, your overnight bag should be in the bathroom closet.” Taehyung informed, pointing towards the direction of your things. 

“Thank you.” You voiced with an amount of warmth that made Taehyung want to genuinely smile, though crushed the weird urge and nodded agreeably instead.

You began walking away from him until a nuisance suddenly occurred to you, cursing yourself as you came to a full stop. “Um, Taehyung.. I forgot but could you..?” You angled your back towards him to call out to the ribbons tying the back of your dress, knowing you would’ve taken 20 years just to untie your bodice yourself. 

The fact that you weren’t looking directly at Taehyung made him feel relieved, glad he wouldn’t embarrass himself with the his eyes slightly widened. He was quick to reprimand himself, it’s just a woman’s dress, why the hell are you shocked? 

Taehyung swallowed dryly before replying, “Uh, yeah I’ll--I’ll do that.” He walked towards you sparingly and positioned himself behind you.

He’d noticed it before, but you were relatively small compared to him in size and it continued to poke at his brain, maybe even momentarily think it was cute. 

Cute? When have I ever found a girl cute?

Taehyung exhaled before his hands carefully made for the silk ribbons, his tentative fingers fiddling with the ties until he eventually began loosening each one. He started unlooping your bodice, breathing out considerably when each loop began exposing your back inch by inch.  

Taehyung’s sweet, hot breath fanned your skin, tensing each time as your every nerve went haywire feeling just how close he was. His slender fingers brushed against your bare skin here and there, making heat collect in your face.

You grew even hotter when your kiss with him suddenly crept back into your mind, unknowing of the reason why excitement and electricity shot throughout your body because of it. The way his soft, full lips met yours, mouthed at you tastefully repeated in your head, making you extremely nervous at how much a measly kiss from him was occupying your mind; it was just a kiss. 

Taehyung found himself tensing by the intimacy of the moment, remembering the way he so boldly kissed you. He found that he liked the plush of your lips, the way he had to bend down to your smaller height to lock lips; and it made him feel strange. 

How the hell was he taking interest in something other than his work? No, this isn’t interest, Taehyung thought, and would spend however long denying it. 

He’d finished the task throughout all his thinking, unrealizing of how proximal he was to you. He oddly hated that the moment was over, coming back down to Earth.

“There you go.” He cleared his voice and stepped away from you. 

You held your bodice up against your chest, realizing Taehyung had a full-access view of your back and you grew 10x hotter. You gulped at the thought before hastily turning around to thank him, quickly disappearing into the bathroom for a moment of reprieve. 

You shut the door and instantly breathed out a breath you didn’t remember holding, looking at your hot mess of a face in the mirror trying to cool down, reliving the last 10 minutes of what just happened. 

You took a deep breath. 

Maybe Taehyung is different after all. 

prev. ↞ || ↠ next  || masterlist

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Hey!! I love your writing. Can you do a Yandere! Ranboo, Tommy , and tubbo. where they are all in love with the reader and they kidnapped her to ‘keep her safe’ and the reader doesn’t know at first, then she slow realized they are obsessed with her. she like them back but she also want to live her life, so she tries to make agreement? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.

The Ranboo gif is just beautiful and I love it. Lemme see what I can do for ya! I wrote a bullet point Platonic fic if that's fine? I'm still worried about writing the minors in romantic relationships, even if it's the characters.

Sorry, it took so long... My burnout got really bad and I refused to even write basic stuff. But I'm back now! Well. Mostly.

Safe Behind Glass (Yandere!Plat!C!Bench Trio x GN!Reader)

You were a little groggier than normal when you awoke, but it was nothing to alarm you immediately.

Just simply brushing it off as you weren't feeling the best that day, you rolled over to fall back to sleep, but quickly noticed something wrong.

It didn't feel... Right?

The blankets... The mattress... The pillow... They weren't yours...

You peeled your eyes open and your expression went blank with fear.

The room was beautiful mind you.

But it wasn't yours either.

You were laying on a fluffy (f/c) canopy bed, surrounded by quartz walls that were dimly lit soul lanterns that prevented you from being completely swallowed by darkness.

Slowly dragging yourself off the bed, you heard a metal 'clunk' that hit the cold quartz flooring below you.

Turning your head to face downwards, you saw that a decently thick metal chain was cuffed to your ankle.

Somehow, your panic became worse as you immediately grabbed onto it and started to yank on the solid metal, but it refused to budge.

You had no idea how many minutes or hours you spent in that room. Reaching at the iron door desperately, yanking at the chain around your ankle that kept you from reaching the exit, searching the blue lanterns for anything...

But then, the white metallic door slowly swung open, revealing Ranboo, Tubbo and Tommy.

You weren't that close to them, save for a couple interactions here and there, but hey, they came to save you! That didn't matter in the slightest!

You almost cried upon seeing them and moved to walk over, but the chain stopped you from reaching them, and you noticed that they weren't moving to help you.

"You're awake!" Tubbo chirped softly, his tan goat ears wiggling with joy, "I'm glad the potion didn't stick for too long... You could've wound up starving if you stayed asleep."

Horror slowly began to set into your heart as Ranboo nodded and walked over to the dark oak table in the corner of the room and set down a basket of food.

"Ran...Boo...?" You whispered, watching as the monochrome male turned and curiously tilted his head in your direction, "Why... Am I here?"

Instead, Tommy stepped in front of you with a bright cheesy smile, the same one that resembled when he would find a new disc or start a new adventure, "For your safety, (N/n)!"

"Safety?" You choked out softly, Ranboo quickly guiding you to sit in the oak chair, "But... I'm one of the richest people on the server... I have god armour... Nothing could kill m-"

"Techno and Dream can." Tubbo interrupted sharply, halting you mid-sentence.

Right... That masked man... Or whatever he was... He was extremely dangerous, as well as Techno. They could likely pierce your netherite chest plate without even flinching at the number of thorns you had enchanted.

"We don't want anyone to bring you any harm... There's no problem with that, right, (Y/n)?" Ranboo smiled, flashing his sharpened teeth unthreateningly.

No... You wanted to say, but you wanted freedom! You wanted to expand your house to the size of a mansion! You wanted to bicker with Quackity about the stupidest of things! You wanted to get building advice from Phil!

Not be locked away because your safety was a tiny bit compromised!

"Tommy... Tubbo... Ranboo... Please, I'm not going to just stay locked away because I-"

"You'll see things our way soon... Eat up, get your rest." Tubbo smiled and gave you a hug, ignoring how you froze suddenly, before turning and skipping out of the room with the taller two following behind him.

Despite... How screwed up the three were with their methods of making you be their friend, it was working...

They were actually incredibly friendly and funny. It made life in capture bearable! Even though you were incredibly snappy and cruel to them in the beginning, they never held it against you.

Although... Despite their kindness and your quickly blooming friendship, you still had a craving to go outside. Even if what the three told you about everyone forgetting you existed was true.

"You look sad, (N/n)..." Tubbo murmured softly, watching you stare off into the blank quartz wall, "Are you okay?"

Tommy straightened up from his handmade scribble of a map, turning his head towards you in confusion. Ranboo stopped writing mid-word likely and looked in your direction as well.

They never liked it when you were upset.

You pursed your lips silently for a moment, clearly unsettling the males around you, "I just... Haven't been feeling too great... Both mentally and physically I mean... I need sunlight..."

"Yeah... I was reading about that earlier..." Ranboo hummed softly, adjusting his crown as he looked up at the ceiling, "But the issue is..."

"My safety... Yes, I know. What if, I wear my full netherite armour and keep a totem AND a Rapple on me? And also not leave your sides?" You bargained nervously.

That hadn't worked before. But then again, You weren't as close to them before...

The silence that fell upon the room was unsettling and caused your heart to race quickly. If they didn't like what you said, you would be alone for a few straight days... You didn't like it...

"Okay."

What.

That worked?

You just had to ask?!

You watched as Tubbo stood up and pulled the small ender chest from his pocket and set it on the ground, causing it to grow to normal size.

Standing aside, he made a gesture for you to open it and get your stuff.

Hesitantly, You walked over and kneeled down in front of the ender chest. Looking to Tubbo and the others for confirmation, you slowly opened it once they nodded.

Carefully, you began pulling out your armour but paused seeing the lack of golden apples and totems.

Right... Before you had gotten kidnapped by the group, you had used a totem when you fell into the L'Manhole where L'Manberg once was.

That what caused them to kidnap you...

"I-I used... My totem... And Fundy stole my Rapple..." You murmured hesitantly, feeling ready to cry.

Your only chance to escape and you couldn't grab it...

"Hey! Hey! Don't cry! Here!" Ranboo eagerly held the two golden items out towards you at the first sight of tears gathering under your eyes.

"What...?"

"(Y/n)! We want you to be happy! If being outside, even with god armour, rapples and totems, makes you happy, then damn well we're bringing you outside!" Tommy grinned.

After a few tears and lots of hugs, Tubbo helped you hop into your armour while Ranboo unlocked the chain cuff from around your ankle. Tommy had left, leaving the door open for once, going to scout the area for any dangerous mobs.

"Ready?" Ranboo smiled, linking one of his arms with yours, the one that you held the totem in to be more specific. Tubbo happily linked his arm with the other one.

You could only nod, your voice caught in your throat as they began to walk you out the door, Ranboo had to duck down a lot, before leading you to the quartz stairway.

Once up the stairs, Tubbo pressed in a code to the iron door and it slid open quickly, causing you to flinch and pinch your eyes shut at the bright painful light of the sun.

It took about twenty minutes of trying to adjust to the sunlight with the two males encouraging you before you were able to look around.

It was everything you had missed...

The sunlight...

The trees...

God, it was perfect...

Tommy eventually came out of the tree line and sat down beside you as you took it all in...

Months, you were down there. And sure, they gave you plenty of decorations to prevent you from experiencing sensory deprivation, nothing could ever compare to the beauty of the outside world.

A voice cut through the air -calling for someone or something named Fran?- and you almost didn't recognize it. But then the owner came out of the trees, almost a similar direction that Tommy came from earlier.

Sam? He looked so... Different now...

The creeper hybrid slowly lowered his gas mask to show his mouth dropped in shock, "(Y/n)...? You're alive...?"

Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo were freaking out, trying to bring you back into the bunker, as they called it, but you weren't budging. You hadn't seen another being in ages... And while you did platonically love the three boys, you enjoyed hearing a new voice.

"You... Remember me? But... Tubbo you said-" You frowned at the goat hybrid as they stopped suddenly, realizing that you weren't moving.

"You three... Kept them locked away... For almost an entire year?" Sam's voice was getting a little bit scary now, but it wasn't directed at you, instead, at your best friends...

"Sam! It was to protect them! Please!" Ranboo tried, but he wasn't making it better.

"You made Quackity believe they ran away... Made Philza wake up every morning and walk through the SMP for any signs of them... Gave Puffy false information on where you have last seen them... lied to everyone... Only to be the reason that they were gone." Sam growled out, gripping his trident, "Then you proceeded to make them think we all forgot about them..."

"S-Sam... You've got this all wrong big man..." Tubbo tried next...

The warden wasn't listening as he pointed his trident at them, his communicator in his other hand next to his mouth, then he started speaking, causing his voice to come out of Ranboo's, Tubbo's and Tommy's pockets. He was speaking on the public channel.

"Tommy Innit, Tubbo Underscore, Ranboo Beloved... You are being placed in the prison, Pandora's Vault, for keeping (Y/n) (L/n) imprisoned in a bunker and lying about their whereabouts."

It felt like someone splashed you with cold water...

[miusejournal]

STYLE ANALYSIS: MONET DE HAAN, THE QUEEN BEE OF CONSTANCE BILLARD’S GOSSIP GIRL REBOOT

It is undoubtedly known that the “dark academia”, and “old money aesthetic” are becoming a mainstream trend that we see in today’s fashion. With the rise of dark academia and the old money aesthetic, two iterations of the preppy style, it is not surprising to see it trending on TikTok. And what better way to talk about than introducing the character off HBO Max hit show Gossip Girl, Monet De Haan.

Monet de Haan, a character on the hit HBO show, Gossip Girl, the reboot, portrayed by Savannah Smith. Now if you haven’t watched the show, what are you doing? Go now and watch, it’s entertaining and plus the wardrobe is very pleasing to look at. But anyways, staying on topic, Monet de Haan is a very prominent character in the show even though she is not seen very often, her presence is very much felt.

In the show it is evident that Monet is the queen bee of her friend group between Luna and Julien, even though Julien is the front runner who is dubbed the queen. However, it is evident that Monet has natural power and commands that power through her influence and mastermind skills she has as Julien’s PR consultant. Without the stereotypical role that would be presumed for Monet and their friend Luna, Monet is a very independent person that thinks for herself and has her own best interests at heart. She is not afraid to step out of line nor project her authority over others and in her wardrobe we can clearly see why she is the queen bee and not just a minion.

In the first episode Monet is seen at her dinner table with a butler at her beck and call while she is wearing a tweed two piece cropped jacket and skirt, by the brand Balmain. This outfit already set the tone for what Monet embodied as it captured her aura and visually commanded the audience to see just who she was without having to say a word. It embodies what the old money aesthetic is, a classic style with elegance.Throughout the series it is apparent that Monet comes from a prestigious family, seeing as she is one of the richest students at Constance Billard St. Jude's School. With this in mind it is not far-fetched that Monet’s style would embody the ‘old money aesthetic’.

The ‘old money aesthetic’, is an aesthetic based around a wealthy, classic style. Old money refers to people who have inherited their wealth instead of working for it. Monet’s style is reminiscent of the old money aesthetic with hints of preppy fashion as she encapsulates it with her own personal style which is rooted in prestige and heritage.

Monet has a decadence to her that I think she embodies naturally as seen in her wardrobe. In many outfits Monet is seen sporting a broach. Now broaches May seem old, and out of style however with Monet it fits her style of prestige and old money aesthetic seeing as that is in fact her life and the way she grew up. In her friend group Monet’s style is the most prestige as she has the most decadent looks out out her friends. Her style is rooted in high fashion that is more embedded with heritage rather than just the modern style. For instance, in many of Monet’/s looks she is spotted wearing high fashion brands like Chanel, Gucci, Balmain, Valentino, and so many more high fashion power houses. Like her personality, these brands are powerful and commanding with their influence over people and things. Monet is rooted in the elegant, opd money aesthetic where she prefers a for example old world Chanel or a vintage high fashion brand. Though Monet is very stylish she does not follow the status quo like everyone around her. Instead she opts for fashion that is regally rooted and can stand the test of time with timeless pieces that won’t go out of style.

It is evident to point out that Monet's wardrobe staples are everything that the “old money aesthetic” embodies, such as mini skirts, blazers, heels, oversized sweaters, bodysuits, broaches, chokers, bows, or necklaces as an accessory. She is also seen throughout the show wearing a powerful suit that embodies her aura and personality perfectly as it embraces her power, strength, and feminine beauty. In her wardrobe she is also seen mixing patterns, whether that’s prints,or textures. Her style undoubtedly dominates without overwhelming the viewer hence her personality which complements her outfits so well.

Monet de Haan is the richest girl at Constance Billard and she plans to stay that way whilst ruling Constance with an iron fist and an exquisite outfit to match her rulership.

(Dec. 1, 2021)

[nerdzzone]

-More Hearts Than Mine-

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

Especially when a global pandemic is sweeping the world.

With lockdowns and stay at home orders looming on the horizon, the uncertainty of their situation becomes almost too much for Whitney Taylor to handle. Chris suggests that they quarantine together to avoid any potential separations but, given what happened the last time they spent more than a few brief moments in each other’s company, that could cause more problems than it solves…

Chris Evans x OFC

Sequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Note: I’ve decided to make this five parts instead of four. I was originally going to combine this part and the next one, but I feel like it flows better with a bit of separation between them!

Part One

____

Part Two

The rest of our first afternoon together was spent lazing around. Grayson was tired, but continued to refuse his nap so we kept things low key to avoid any exhausted toddler meltdowns. By the time the evening rolled around, I was tired from the stress of the day myself and since I still had to unpack, I went up to my bedroom shortly after we'd tucked Grayson into bed.

I slept a lot better than I thought I would given everything that was on my mind and when I woke up, I could already hear the sounds of breakfast echoing up from the kitchen. Taking a few minutes to let myself wake up properly, I checked my phone and scrolled through social media before getting up, stretching and heading downstairs.

"Good morning," I smiled, finding Chris and Grayson sitting at the island eating some scrambled eggs while Scott leaned against the counter with a cereal bowl in his hands.

"G'morning, Mama!"

Grayson's greeting was said through a mouthful of food and Chris reminded him that wasn't polite before greeting me himself.

"Help yourself to whatever you want," he insisted. "There's some eggs left in the pan or cereal, whatever you can find. Maybe Grayson will even share his apple slices with you if you ask nicely."

Grayson gasped at that suggestion and frantically shook his head.

"No, Daddy!" He protested. "I don't want to share!"

I laughed as he reached over his plate to move the little bowl of sliced fruit closer to his body where he could keep it guarded.

"Not even one slice?" I asked. "But I'm so hungry!"

"Over there!" Grayson giggled, pointing at the counter.

I turned around and saw a few more apples in a bowl, making me smile as I turned back to the boys.

"But they're not nicely sliced like yours," I pointed out. "How can I eat those?"

Grayson shrugged and plucked one of his apples out of his bowl. He looked smug, thinking he'd won, but he was so distracted while he took a bite that he didn't see Chris' hand sneak over until he'd snatched one of the slices and tossed it to me.

"Catch!"

I did as Chris instructed and Grayson's jaw dropped. An indignant huff fell from his lips as he looked between the two of us.

"That's not nice."

Chris laughed, but I bit back a smile and returned his apple.

"You're right, baby," I agreed, kissing the top of your head. "That was mean, but we were just tricking you. You don't have to share your apple."

"Thanks, Mama."

The frown on his face turned back into a grin and I scraped the rest of the eggs that were in the pan on the stove onto a plate before turning back to the boys once I’d pulled a fork from the drawer.

"So, how do you want to work it with things like groceries while I'm here?"

"Just tell me what you want and I'll order it," Chris told me. "They've started doing curbside pick up pretty much everywhere so I was thinking I'd just do that."

"Oh, that's handy, but I meant like money wise. Should I just transfer you my share or do you want to alternate who pays?"

Chris stared at me for a moment as if he was trying to figure out if I was joking before he chuckled.

"I'm not taking any money from you, Whitney."

His voice was firm, but I furrowed my brow in confusion.

"What? Why not? I can't let you pay for everything."

"You're not still working, are you?" Scott asked. "Or is it different since, as a photographer, you're so far away from whoever you're taking pictures of?"

"I'm not working," I admitted. "I think it would be doable if it was, like, family portraits or something like that, but the big photo shoots involve too many people. Everyone cancelled on me last week or delayed my contracts until at least the summer."

"So, don't worry about paying for anything then," Chris shrugged. "It's not like you're going to eat that much, I think I can handle the cost."

He was trying to do a nice thing. He was a very generous person with those that he cared about, but I wasn't going to take advantage of him.

"I have savings, Chris," I insisted. "I'm not completely helpless."

As if sensing a rising tension, Scott put his bowl in the sink and grabbed his coffee mug before turning to Grayson.

"Hey, Gray, let's go see what cartoons we can find."

Grayson nodded eagerly and Chris helped him down from the tall stool so he could follow Scott out of the room, taking his little bowl of apples with him.

"I wasn't trying to imply that you're helpless," Chris assured me once they were out of earshot. "But you're tiny, I don't think that buying you a few groceries for the next couple of months will financially cripple me."

I tried to temper my defensiveness before I answered him, reminding myself again that he was trying to be helpful.

"I know that, but I don't feel comfortable living here for that long without contributing," I told him. "You already give me more than you need to every month for Grayson."

It was true. Since our custody agreement was that Grayson spent fifty percent of his time with each of us, he wasn't required to pay me any child support. But he did anyway. It was something we’d argued about on and off over the years because the amount that he gave me was way over the top. I appreciated his generosity and I did use all the money to buy things for Gray, but most of it ended up in a bank account that I'd opened for him because there was no way to spend it all in one month without Grayson becoming the most spoiled child in all of Massachusetts.

"I like to make sure he's taken care of."

"Which I am capable of doing with my own money when he's in my care," I reminded him. "But I don't want to start that whole conversation again. I just want to feel like I'm doing my part while I stay with you."

"And I appreciate that gesture, but it won't be necessary," Chris insisted. "You can clean, you can cook, do anything like that to help out, but I won't accept any money, especially while you're not working."

I sighed as he stood up to put his plate in the dishwasher while I put mine on the counter, too distracted by our conversation to eat. I knew it would be a struggle to get him to agree to take money from me, but I wasn't ready to back down so I thought of a compromise and hoped he would accept.

"How about we drop it for now," I suggested. "But if this thing goes on for more than a couple of weeks, can we talk about it again?"

Chris paused and crossed his arms. I could tell that he wanted to argue, but I was relieved when he agreed.

"Alright," he nodded, hesitating for a moment before adding a stipulation to the deal. "But we're going to talk about your car too before you leave here."

"My car? What about my car?"

"Grayson told me that it's not working properly," Chris admitted. "He said it sounds angry sometimes and that you haven't gotten it checked out yet."

I rolled my eyes, guessing that was one of those 'secrets' that he mentioned.

"It's fine," I assured him. "It made a weird sound one time last week when I tried to start it, but it's still working. I was going to take it in, but then all this virus stuff happened and I didn't have chance."

"You need a new one," Chris informed me. "That one is getting old anyway. I'll take you car shopping when things reopen."

I laughed at the absurdity of that statement, but I could see the annoyance on his face at my reaction.

"You're not buying me a car, Chris. The one I have is perfectly fine and if it's not then I will take myself car shopping, thank you very much."

"Why do you get so defensive when I try to help you?" He asked, his eyes shifting into a glare. "I'm not going to accidentally think that you're in love with me just because you accept a nice gesture from me. I can take a hint, Whitney, I get it."

My jaw dropped and I couldn't hold back a disgruntled scoff at his insane change of topic.

"What are you even talking about? This has nothing to do with that," I argued. "I wouldn’t have accepted your invitation if I knew you were going to hold that over me and throw it in my face all the time."

“All the time? This is the first time I’ve mentioned it!”

“Yes, but I’ve not even been here for twenty-fours hours and you’ve already brought it up!”

Perhaps it was my harsh, snappy tone that did it or my very valid criticism of his low blow, but Chris' body language softened.

"I just don't get why you get so worked up when I'm trying to help you..."

"Because I don't need help, Chris," I explained. "I might not be Captain America rich, but I do just fine and I can take care of myself. I can buy my own groceries and if I really needed to, I could buy myself a new car. You throwing money at me for things like that makes me feel like you don't value the success I've had in my career or my ability to manage my finances which is, quite frankly, offensive."

Chris dropped his arms so they were no longer crossed and his shoulders relaxed. Clearly, he'd been getting quite defensive as well and had realized it, whether he would admit it or not. I held my head high, proud of myself for explaining my feelings so well and taking him down a notch, but that feeling disappeared as soon as Chris spoke.

"If you were the richest woman in the world, I would still want to buy you a car," Chris started, looking more nervous than the dismissive, self-assured attitude I was getting moments ago. "I'd still want to buy you anything you could ever need because making you happy makes me happy."

My face fell at his confession and my heart clenched again, knowing what the underlying sentiment behind his statement was. It stung more than any hurtful words could have as the sincerity, the genuine care and appreciation, in his voice was heartbreaking. I regretted not adding a condition to our cohabitation that specified he wasn't allowed to say such nice, guilt inducing things as I stared at him for a moment, trying to think of a way to get out of this conversation that was more polite than just bolting out the door. 

Too much time was passing as his words hung between us so, short of any good comeback to his words, I shrugged.

"If you want to make me happy, let me contribute for the groceries."

It was Chris' turn to look shocked now, as he was obviously expecting a more thoughtful response to his rather vulnerable admission, but he pulled himself together quickly and a dry laugh fell from his lips.

"Nice try, Whitney," he smiled, shaking his head. "But that's not going to happen."

Without giving me any more time to argue, he turned on his heels and walked out the door leaving me alone to wallow in my guilt and wonder how much longer I'd be able to keep up my act of nonchalance.

-

There was a weird sense of restlessness in the house that day. Usually, killing a few days at home would be no big deal but, as soon as the stay at home orders came into place that morning, the knowledge that we were now unable to do anything else made it feel slightly more suffocating.

Chris wasn't lying though when he said that he planned to make this lockdown as enjoyable as possible so we managed to keep ourselves entertained as we planned out some of the things we could do. Chris and Scott were compiling a list of old movies they wanted to watch again, I ordered a bunch of puzzles and books (some more child appropriate and some for the adults), Chris dug out an old wiffle ball set he had from when they were kids and Scott organized Chris' video game collection, pulling out all the good ones like their favourite: Mario Kart.

By the end of the day, we were all feeling much more optimistic about how our time at home would go. Especially Grayson. It was finally starting to sink in for him that he got to spend the foreseeable future surrounded by all his favourite people - something that was unfortunately a rarity for him given our situation. He was bouncing off the walls as he threw his ideas into the mix and couldn't wait to get started on all the fun.

The excitement of the day led to another early night for him and I excused myself shortly after, declining the invitation to start practicing my Mario Kart skills.

After our conversation that morning, I was trying to keep a bit of distance from Chris. I wasn't mad and it didn't seem like he had any lasting feelings of annoyance either, but our earlier discussion proved to me that there was still tension and resentment between us. I wanted to let it settle and give him some space so our small disagreement didn't turn into a full-blown argument. Living together after everything we'd been through would be an adjustment period and easing into it would probably be the safest route.

So, I took myself off to my bedroom and lounged in bed watching some new mystery show on Netflix. I started it thinking it would just be a good way to pass a few hours until a reasonable time to go to bed but as usual with Netflix, I got sucked in and before I knew it, it was almost midnight.

I closed my laptop, knowing I needed to get some sleep as Grayson was an early riser, but I noticed the glass of water I'd taken upstairs with me hours ago was empty and my mouth was dry. With a sigh, I dragged myself out of bed, taking the glass to the kitchen to fill it up.

I crept down the stairs, assuming everyone would be in bed already, but I was surprised when I got to the kitchen to see the light on. I poked my head into the room and saw Scott sitting at the little island in the middle of the room, a drink in his hand and a melancholy look on his face.

"Hey," I greeted him, alerting him to my presence. "You're up late..."

"I was just FaceTiming with my boyfriend. He's in LA so it worked with the time difference."

"Boyfriend?" I questioned as I headed over to the sink to fill up my glass. "I didn't know you had a boyfriend."

"It's pretty new," he sighed. "We've only been together about a month now."

"That's so exciting! You didn't want to stay in LA and quarantine with him?"

"No, we thought it was too fresh for us to, like, fully move in together and if I was in LA and not living with him then we wouldn't see each other anyway, so I decided I may as well come here."

"That's really hard," I frowned as I pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. "I'm sorry that you had to make a decision like that."

"It's alright," he shrugged despite the sad look on his face. "A lot of people have had to make much tougher decisions than that lately."

"That doesn't mean you can't be upset anyway."

"I know, but I'll be alright. I'm just glad we've got so many ways to stay in touch." He flashed me a smile and I was glad to see it. Scott was a good guy and one of those people who was usually so positive and upbeat that it was hard to see him feeling down. "What about you? How are you doing with everything?"

"Oh, I don't know," I sighed. "Do you mean the deadly virus plaguing the world? Or the fact that I'm in lockdown with the father of my child who I have a fairly complicated history with?"

"Both," Scott chuckled as he sipped his drink of what looked to be whiskey. "But I was more referring to being here in lockdown with Chris."

"It's hard, but I'm doing okay. It's just a weird situation."

"It'll definitely take some time to get used to for both of you," he nodded. "He felt really bad this morning. He told me what you said about how offensive it is when he throws money at you all the time and I totally agree, but I hope you know his heart was in the right place. He tells everyone how talented you are, he would never want to belittle your career."

"I know," I winced. "I overreacted a little bit."

"No, not at all!" Scott assured me. "He needed to hear it. I've been on the receiving end of it too so I know how you felt, but he doesn't realize how it comes off some times. He's just trying to be generous and help the people he loves."

I nodded and I knew that I should just end the conversation there. Tell him that I understood what Chris' intent was and leave it at that. But my heart overpowered my brain and I found myself opening up before I could stop myself.

"I just don't exactly deserve to be on that list," I reminded him. "And I shouldn't take advantage of any feelings he might have for me after the decision that I made."

"You really do deserve to be on that list," he told me with a smile. "He's really in love with you."

"Love might be a bit extreme," I scoffed. "He's made his feelings clear, I know he cares about me, but it's not love."

"He's not made his feelings clear enough then," Scott countered. "Because he's been head over heels in love with you since pretty much the moment he met you."

My mouth went dry as my brain fought to comprehend that claim while all my instincts were telling me that it wasn't true. Scott wouldn't lie to me, he wasn't that kind of person, but he could be exaggerating especially since he had been drinking. There was an honesty in his eyes though, a look that told me he was telling the truth, but I couldn't accept it, it just didn't make sense.

"That's not true," I argued. "He only ever saw me as a friend until that one night and that night was a mistake."

But Scott was confident in what he'd shared and he shook his head.

"He never saw you as just a friend. You were his endgame from day one."

Perhaps it was a delaying tactic, perhaps it was a nervous response or I was subconsciously trying to buy myself some time to make sense of what he was trying to tell me, but a giggle slipped out at Scott's choice of words.

"Endgame? Is that an Avengers joke?"

"It wasn't intentional," he assured me with a laugh, but he was quick to get us back on topic. "But I mean it. We had a conversation just a few weeks after you met and he was talking about you like you hung the moon. He's been enamoured from the start."

I couldn't wrap my head around it. He was speaking with such confidence, but the words he was saying might as well have been another language. Knowing what I knew about our situation, how things had unfolded between us, how that first night together went down and the aftermath of it, there was no sign that Chris had been in love with me. He cared about me, that much I knew, but to be in love? That didn't add up.

Especially when I'd had those feelings all along as well. Surely, I would have noticed had they been reciprocated.

I'd fallen silent as my brain buzzed, scrambling for any gesture or obvious evidence that I'd missed that might prove Scott's claim, but when he spoke again, I was pulled from my thoughts.

"Do you not feel the same way about him?" He asked. "And there's no judgment here, I can see both sides. I love Chris and I want him to be happy, but I respect what you're trying to do."

I felt my heart rate spike again as my palms grew sweaty in a way that was becoming annoyingly familiar.

I was aware of the importance of this conversation, but I was also aware that I wasn't having it with the right person. If Scott was being honest then Chris must have had his reasons for not sharing the depth of his feelings with me and it felt sneaky and deceitful that I was finding out from someone else. It also felt wrong that the answer to Scott's question was on the tip of my tongue. Chris deserved to know before his brother, but I was tired. Fighting through this mess all by myself was wearing me down and Scott had always been one of those people that compelled you to pour your heart out to him. He was a better listener than most and I needed someone, anyone, to give me some kind of guidance. So the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"I do feel the same," I admitted, my eyes firmly locked on the glass of water on the table in front of me as I worried I'd be too anxious to speak if I looked Scott in the eye. "I love him very much."

"Then why are you so scared to give him a chance?" He questioned. "Just because of Grayson?"

I nodded, but even I was starting to doubt my own motivations.

"We work together so well right now, but if we give it a shot and someone ends up getting hurt then we might not be able to put our feelings aside and keep things peaceful."

"But aren't you hurting each other every day that you spend in love with each other, but not together?" He pointed out. "Yet, you manage to put Grayson first through all that pain."

His words hit me like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head.

It was an excellent point.

We were both hurting from being apart, it was clear from how defensive we got over silly little things like we had that morning. I could only imagine how Chris felt, but it was hard for me to be around him all the time and just keep things friendly when in my heart I wanted more. I ached at the sight of him every time I dropped Grayson off or picked him up, but we still managed to be friendly and polite through that.

"How many of those drinks have you had?” I teased earning a laugh from Scott. “They’ve made you too wise.”

"Not enough," he joked. "But it's true, isn't it?"

"It is true, but it's different," I insisted. "If we were together and broke up, that kind of hurt can come with a lot of anger. Right now, we might be sad or disappointed about the situation, but there's no anger."

"Oh, there was anger," Scott informed me, grimacing slightly. "After Christmas, when he came back from dropping Grayson off at your house there was definitely anger. He slammed doors, stormed around the house, got drunk off his ass and ranted about it for hours. I've never seen him that upset over being turned down before."

My heart sank at that news. I knew that he'd been upset, but I didn't think he'd taken it that badly. I thought he was just a bit sulky, but now my guilt intensified.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, my voice thick with emotion. "I feel bad enough as it is..."

"Oh, honey, I'm not trying to make you feel bad," Scott assured me, reaching over to rub my back as I forced back the tears that had sprung to my eyes. "But it proves that even if one of you ends up heartbroken, you can still put Grayson first because you just did it."

"I didn't, Chris did," I pointed out after clearing my throat. "If it wasn't up to me, if Chris came to his senses and ditched me for some beautiful actress, then I'm not sure that I could be so forgiving."

"Why would he ditch you?"

As promised, there was no judgment in Scott's voice, just genuine curiosity and I shrugged as I answered.

"Because he could have any woman in America."

"Maybe not any woman, let's not get carried away," Scott smirked, his teasing tone making me smile. "But for such a relationship loving guy, don't you think it's interesting that he hasn't been in a serious relationship in about five years?"

That wasn't something I'd put much thought into, but it wasn't the 'gotcha' moment that it seemed like Scott had hoped it was.

"Not really. He's been busy with work the last few years," I pointed out. "And having a baby with me must have complicated his personal life a bit."

"You complicated his personal life the moment he met you," Scott insisted. "That's my point."

He sounded so sure of himself, but the words he was saying were still hard for me to comprehend. I'd always been so confident in my understanding of our relationship and if I was to believe him, it would shatter everything I thought I knew.

"I just don't see why he wouldn't have mentioned this by now..."

"You know how he gets with his anxiety. He's not always the over confident hotshot that people assume he is," Scott reminded me. "But you'll have to talk to him if you want more information than that."

I let out a sigh as I knew he was right.

"There's a lot that we need to talk about," I admitted. "Thank you for this though, Scott, you've given me a lot to think about."

"Anytime," he smiled. "And I completely respect that you're willing to put Grayson first despite whatever feelings you have. You're a wonderful mom and I would be proud to call you my sister-in-law."

I laughed at his outrageous leap from even considering a relationship straight to marriage and shook my head.

"You need to go to bed, Scott," I instructed. "You've clearly had too much to drink tonight."

"I probably have," he agreed. "But I meant everything that I've said. Think about it, okay?"

I nodded as I slid off the stool I was sitting on, wrapping my arms around him in a quick hug.

"I'm here for you too, you know that right?" I asked as I stepped back. "If you ever want to talk about your situation or vent and complain about the distance, whatever you need, I'm here."

"Thanks, Whitney," he smiled before dragging himself off his stool as well. "Goodnight."

I returned his smile and mumbled a 'goodnight' of my own before heading back to bed with all the new information that Scott had provided echoing around in my head. While it had been a very informative conversation, I wasn't quite sure whether I came away from it with the clarity I was looking for or just more confusion.

-

Part Three

Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7​ @hockeychick10

[bubbleteaimagines]

age gap

tony stark oneshot

tony x you

swearing, large age gap

in this day and age it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal.

but it was.

y/n l/n and tony stark became trending worldwide, every gossip magazine and newspaper out for whatever information they could get about your relationship.

the relationship by the way, that had a 28 year age gap.

you were 20 and tony was turning 48, though it seemed neither of you cared as much as the world did.

you thought it was perfectly normal, seeing as your parents were years apart and tony simply didn’t give a damn.

‘screw the tabloids’ he always said, but sometimes it wasn’t that easy.

at home, you were able to relax with the idea of your age gap as it was just the two of you being y/n and tony.

but out in public, it was an entirely different deal.

whispers, stares, pictures. you name it and people did it, not even caring or respecting your private time with tony when you went out.

you didn’t expect for it to bother you as much as it did. you thought that maybe with tony by your side you could block out the whispers and the hateful stares but it was nearly impossible as it happened almost everywhere you went.

even if you went grocery shopping for god’s sake, someone still had something negative to say.

of course, tony defended you as much as he could. he tried to shield you from the hateful words and articles but sometimes he wasn’t enough.

sometimes, it did get to you and soon you realized you didn’t know how much more you could take.

you loved tony, but after being constantly called a gold digger and his sugar baby, you began to doubt yourself, and your relationship.

were you really as manipulative as the papers said? were you really just with tony for his money?

of course not. deep down you knew that with or without money you loved tony stark. and he loved you, but it didn’t help that he also loved to spoil you and he was paying almost all of your college tuition.

even though you insisted he didn’t, he did anyways. he reassured you after countless protest that that was just something he did; he took care of everyone he loved.

eventually you were forced to settle with the idea. but it never stopped the running thoughts in your head.

am i really that bad as everyone says?

it was during a christmas party that tony was holding that you finally snapped.

tony had gone all out; getting the most expensive decorations and inviting all of the richest people he knew.

and of course, since it was tony, he also got the best alcohol money could buy, and unfortunately you weren’t allowed to drink a single drop.

all night, you had stood awkwardly by tony’s side in your pretty red dress, holding a cup full of water and laughing uncomfortably as you were forced to listen to drunk rich people tell unamusing stories.

by now, the music was blasting, night had fallen, and you were pretty sure you were only one not drunk at the party, minus tony and steve.

the elegant cup that you pretended to drink from held nothing expect for water and it was only another painful reminder that you were probably the youngest one at the party.

out of respect, tony decided he wasn’t going to drink either but that did nothing to ease you. If anything, you wished that he had been drinking so that he wouldn’t remember the embarrassing conversation you were having with some of the housewives he invited.

“so, y/n, tell me,” a woman name martha kalnins gushed as she sat on one of tony’s luxurious couches, obviously drunk from one of the many glasses of wine she had had. “Is Tony really as amazing in bed as everyone says he is?”

a round of laugher from the other housewives around you made you shift uncomfortably, thankful the dark room didn’t show the frown radiating off of you.

“uh… i uh,” you sounded like a child, struggling to answer her question and you laughed uncomfortably as to not show how disturbed you really were. you shared a look with tony.

“i mean … h-he’s great at everything, honestly. it’s tony stark we’re talking about,” you answered unsurely, and tony squeezed your thigh as the women laughed again.

“oh, i guess you’re right,” martha slurred and took another drink. “that tony is a catch. hell, if i had been twenty years younger like you i would’ve snatched him up, too. with that tight little body of yours it’s no wonder he’s so eager to pay your bills.”

another round of laughter and you could feel tony beginning to tense up beside you. now, it was your turn to squeeze his leg and you turned back to the women with a tight smile.

“oh, tony doesn’t pay my bills,” you tried to assure them but they waved it off.

“oh nonsense. why else would you be with a man that’s almost 50?” another woman asked you and you threw her a sharp glare.

you were starting to heat up, not appreciating their little jabs at your relationship.

“why am i with him?” you pulled out your cold tone and scoffed at her. “i don’t know— maybe because i love him?” you said a little angrily.

how dare they insinuate anything else than the truth: you loved tony and you didn’t give a damn about his age.

the woman snorted. “yeah. that’s what i told myself when i first met howie,” she threw a glance to an older man in the corner. “sure does make the sex a lot easier when you think you love them.”

you couldn’t stop your blood from boiling.

“how dare you!”

in an instant, you were up and out of your seat, the woman’s smile long gone as you angrily got in her face.

“y/n!” tony tried to stop you but you were sick of it. you were sick of it all; the jokes, the jabs, the little comments that nobody had any business making on your relationship.

you were done.

“how dare you talk about my relationship like that when you know nothing about us!” you fumed and suddenly you had everyone’s attention.

“who are you come into our house and as our guest disrespect us? you don’t know a thing about tony and i. not a single damn thing. you don’t know about all of the late nights we have, all of the laughs we share and all of the movies we watch. you don’t know about all the things we have in common besides sex and you damn well don’t know anything about me! you don’t, because if you did then you’d know i’m not with him for the money, or the fame, or whatever else you think is associated with tony stark. i’m not here for any of that. i’m here for him, so why don’t you get your head out of your ass and realize that just because you spread your legs for money, that doesn’t mean the rest of us do!”

by the time you finished you were panting and everyone was in complete shock. it was silent, and the woman in front of you looked as if she didn’t know what the hell to do.

no one did as you stood with your chest moving heavily, your well deserved rant coming off of your consciousness.

you huffed.

“well then. seeing as i’m only 20, i guess it’s past my bedtime,” you rolled your eyes and looked at the clock, noticing it was 1AM.

“i’ll see you all … whenever. goodnight.”

you did a dramatic turn and then proceeded to exit tony stark style. leaving a big commotion behind you and no doubt people that would spread your words everywhere the next morning.

that would be another problem you would have to worry about, but right now you focused on just sleeping the entire night away.

sighing, you changed out of your dress into some shorts and swiftly got under the covers.

you closed your eyes, and you tried to let sleep come to you but it was almost impossible as you were painfully aware the spot next to you was empty.

tony hadn’t come to bed yet and it was like your body refused to let you rest until he did.

sighing again, you peeled your eyes open again and decided to stare up at the blank ceiling, waiting for tony to come to bed.

when he finally did, it was around 3AM in the morning but even the dark you could see his shit-eating grin.

“well, that was quite the performance tonight, miss l/n,” tony teased almost immediately and you groaned.

“sorry if i ruined your party,” you apologized to tony and buried your face in a pillow. “i just got so mad that people kept insinuating i was only with you for that that i just … i just snapped.” you explained.

tony was still grinning and you felt the bed dip as he gently slid in beside you.

“don’t worry about it. i’d say that was more entertaining than mrs. mccoy getting so drunk she admitted she was cheating with garden boy,” tony laughed and you snorted.

“great. i was the biggest scandal of the night,” you sighed.

“biggest one of the century, actually. how long do you think it’s gonna take for people to start talking about it?”

“i’d say it’ll make an appearance in the morning. some magazine talking about how tony stark’s sugar baby finally blew her fuse,” you yawned and tony chuckled.

“yeah well, at lease i don’t have to worry about if it’s true now.”

“worry if what’s true?”

“that you love me,” he said quietly.

you peered up at him in the dark.

“tony? what? of course i love you,” you frowned. you felt the pillow shift as tony shook his head.

“no, yeah, i know,” he said. “but now i don’t have to worry about if it’s tony stark you’re attracted to, or iron man.”

“clearly i wouldn’t be attracted to a piece of metal, tony,” you both rolled your eyes simultaneously.

“yeah, no shit,” tony sighed. “but i mean like— i don’t have to worry about which personality you’re attracted to. now i know for sure that it’s me that you want, and not just my name. or my fortune.”

“well, technically both are still up from grabs,” you smirked in the dark. “haven’t signed a pre-nup yet.”

“oh but you definitely will now,” tony scoffed, but there was humor behind both of your words.

you both found comfort in knowing that you only wanted each other, and not for the reasons everyone else thought.

you weren’t with tony for the money. and he wasn’t with you for the sex.

you both genuinely and honestly loved each other, and now you knew that no ridiculous tabloid or paper was ever gonna make you doubt that again.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

no grave can hold my body down – 1/2

Character: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: It took time to get Jason Todd away from the darkness. Sometimes it felt like he was always standing at a tipping point, at risk of completely losing himself. But not when he was with her. She made him better and she would continue to make him better. 

Word Count: 5,500 

A/N: I am very new to this fandom and extremely nervous to write something for it. To clarify, I have not read any of the comics. But I’ve watched a lot of the TV and movie adaptations, and have done a lot of research. Jason is much older in this – like 30? – and therefore the rest of the BatFam is older, as well. But this takes place after Jason Todd is resurrected, but is still on rocky territory with his family. 

Jason dropped down to the fire escape of his apartment with a quietness that seemed impossible for how large he was. 

On the other side of the small fire escape, Y/N sat with a blanket over her lap, a book in her hand, and a mug of coffee balanced perfectly on the metal grates. 

“Thought I told you not to wait up for me,” Jason greeted, knowing she noticed his arrival, but just kept reading her book. His book, to be precise. 

It was almost 4AM and Jason had called it a night after taking out an entire drug cartel. It had been a lot of waiting, until it finally led up to 20 minutes of utter chaos. He left them on a silver platter for the police to arrest them and actually clean up the mess.

Y/N finally looked up at him and he saw how tired her eyes seemed. But she gave him a soft smile, clearly happy to see him home and...alive. 

A pang of guilt went through him. He did that to her. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” she told him with a shrug. 

Jason slowly nodded. Then he nudged his head towards the book, “Jane Eyre again?”

She smirked. “It’s a comfort read.” 

He smiled back at her – which she couldn’t even see, because he was still wearing the red helmet that covered his entire head. 

“You shouldn’t stay out here so long. It’s too cold.”

“I was waiting for you,” she countered. 

“I thought you couldn’t sleep.”

“I couldn’t…because I was worried about you,” she finally admitted. 

There it was. 

“You have a voicemail on your cellphone. Alfred called,” she quickly added to change the subject.  

Jason left his personal cellphone at home when he was on patrol, not wanting any sort of pointless distractions. Y/N had a direct line to his comms if there was an emergency, which was the only thing he cared about. His old family could figure out ways to contact him if they really wanted to. But he didn’t go out of his way to give them that info. 

“Get inside before you catch a cold,” he told her as he nodded toward the open window. 

She chuckled at his attempt to sound stern. It was hard for her to take it seriously. But she listened to him anyway, knowing that if she tried to ignore him, it would end in him dragging her inside. And that was not a physical battle she ever had a chance at winning. 

30 minutes later, Y/N was laying in bed and still reading her book as Jason tried to erase the night. 

He always took long, scolding showers after patrol. Even if there was no blood to be washed away, there was always a need to cleanse himself of…something. 

Y/N had asked him if he was hurt as she crawled through the window back inside their apartment.

“I’m fine,” he’d insisted. 

But she knew “fine” just meant he didn’t need stitches, or bones reset, or the need to call the actual doctor he had a certain under-the-table deal with. She also knew she shouldn’t be surprised when he took off his clothes and she would see new bruises and shallow cuts covering his skin. 

Jason finally crawled into bed with nothing but his black briefs. His hair still wet from the burning shower he just took. 

He let out a sigh and stared up at the ceiling. 

It was always a battle for Y/N, trying to figure out when to leave Jason to his thoughts and when to force him to talk. She knew he couldn’t drown himself in his own mind. But she also knew she couldn’t pretend to be his therapist. 

“J?” She asked him softly as she put her book down. 

“Hmm?” He asked, looking at her. 

“You OK?”

He nodded. 

She let it be. 

Jason turned his gaze back to the ceiling. “Alfred has a foundation to raise money for under-funded schools in Gotham. It’s all him, but it has Bruce’s name all over it so all the rich assholes will want to save face with the Wayne family by donating.”

“I can support that type of manipulation,” Y/N said with a smirk. 

“He holds a gala at Wayne Manor for it every year. Gets them at least a mil every time.”

She listened closely. 

Then Jason looked at her again. “He asked me to come this year.”

“Oh,” her face fell. 

Jason had told Y/N about his tumultuous relationship with his family. While he mended most of the damage with his brothers, he wasn’t quite willing to do so with Bruce. Y/N didn’t try to push Jason to reconcile with his adoptive father. She understood his heartbreak and frustrations there. She wasn’t a huge fan of Bruce herself after learning the damage he’d done to her boyfriend. 

But it was because of the past traumas that Y/N hadn’t met any of Jason’s hodgepodge, vigilante family. 

She also guessed that it was his overprotectiveness of her that stopped him from wanting to fully submerge her in that part of his life. To Jason, the less she knew about the Bat Family, the safer she was. 

“He asked me to bring you, too.” Jason suddenly added. 

Y/N blinked. “I…I didn’t realize they knew about me.”

He smirked at that. “Of course they do.”

“Even Bruce?” 

His smirk disappeared. “Well, I didn’t tell him. But he’s a nosey son of a bitch. And even if he didn’t figure it out for himself, one of my brothers probably ran their mouth.”

Y/N didn’t think Jason and Bruce had a conversation out of uniform since he became the Red Hood. Probably hadn’t even addressed each other by their actual names in years. 

Y/N fully turned on her side to face her boyfriend and scooted closer. “What do you want to do?” She asked carefully. 

Jason sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Then he too turned on his side and stole a look at her. She looked so tired, but still beautiful. He knew he put her through too much. He didn’t deserve her. And she deserved a better man than he could ever be. He had guilt on his conscience, blood on his hands. He was the poster child for the harshness that was Gotham. She was a normal woman who would’ve never gotten mixed up in this world if it weren’t for him. 

But Y/N insisted that she wanted to be here. Told him so by just staying each and every day, and never questioning her decision. Even left New York City to slum it in Gotham with him. 

Jason brushed some hair away from her face. 

“You’d come with me?”

Her face scrunched from him even feeling the need to ask. “Of course.” Then she gave him a sad look, “I’ve been wanting to meet your family for awhile.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked. 

Her eyes darkened. “You know why, J.” 

He stayed silent. 

“Listen, I know things haven’t been…good with your family. But I also know that they raised you. Whether you want to admit it or not, a lot of the man you are today is because of them. And I happen to love that man. So, yeah, I’ve wanted to meet them.” 

Jason had a look full of love that he was trying to contain. “Come here,” he demanded with a grin. 

Y/N giggled and moved into his arms. 

Jason immediately pivoted her body so she was hovering over him. Without any hesitation, he pulled her down for a kiss. 

“It’s gonna be filled with rich snobs and ass kissers. Don’t go hoping for a fun time,” he warned her as he narrowed his gaze playfully. 

“Then you’re really gonna need me there. Who else is gonna make fun of them with you?” She teased. 

Then a thought suddenly occurred to her. “Will this be a fancy affair?”

“Unfortunately.”

Her gaze darkened. “So, I’m gonna see you in a suit, huh?”

Jason pinched her sides. 

Y/N yelped before laughing, “Do you even own a suit? I’ve never seen it in your closet.”

Suddenly he flipped her body so he was now the one hovering over her. Y/N couldn’t ignore Jason’s massive size when she was caged below him like that.  “You’re on thin ice, kid.” 

“Oooh. I’m so scared,” she mocked. 

Jason almost looked offended.

But he sighed, getting back to the previous subject. “If I have to wear a suit, that means you have to wear a dress.”

“Or I could wear a suit, too.” She countered and raised a brow at him. 

He smirked at her challenge. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in one either.” 

That seemed to please her. 

“I promise I’ll look real pretty. Ya know, really play the part of the arm candy for the famous Jason Todd.” 

Jason scoffed. “You’re always beautiful.” Then his gaze darkened. “And the arm candy was always Bruce and Dick’s thing. Not mine.”

“OK. So what should I be?” 

“My accomplice,” Jason confirmed. 

——————————————————

Y/N fidgeted in the back seat of the car as the black car drove to the outskirts of Gotham and to the Wayne Estate. 

Jason had sent her a text from his patrol comms about something coming up. Vague, as always. He did it to keep her in the dark as much as possible. 

Apparently he’d tried to tell Alfred they couldn’t make it. But the old man wouldn’t let him off the hook that easily. He told Jason he’d send a car for Y/N and that he better show up too. 

Y/N had worn her fanciest dress, curled her hair, and done her makeup to perfection. She knew she could dress the part, but it was the acting bit that had her stressed out. 

Despite Jason’s relationship with his family, she still dreaded the thought that they wouldn’t like her and that they wouldn’t approve. Yeah, they were secretly vigilantes, but they were also the richest people in Gotham. 

Y/N swallowed as the car parked right outside the front entrance of Wayne Manor. There seemed to already be hundreds of people there. Everyone looked rich and fancier than Y/N could ever even pretend to be. 

‘You’re here for Jason. You’re here for Jason.’ She repeated in her mind as the driver opened the door for her and offered his hand.

Y/N told herself to become a character as she held her head high and made her way into the mansion. 

“Mansion” didn’t even seem to cover it. Y/N felt like she was in a Jane Austen novel or Downton Abbey. 

Guests eyed her as soon as she made her way inside. She was much younger than the general demographic of the party. It seemed that old money also meant literally old. 

She did a once over to see if she could find Jason. But he was nowhere to be found. Y/N decided she needed a drink to face a gala full of unwelcoming strangers alone. 

She ignored the curious and judgmental gazes as she made her way to one of the many bars set up through the home. 

‘Maybe red was too much,’ her imposter syndrome was telling her. Clearly it was making her stick out. But she knew Jason loved seeing her in red. 

Y/N quickly ordered a strong drink from the bartender, who was kind enough to sense that this young woman needed liquid courage and she needed it fast. 

“Are you sure you meant to use that bottle?” A male voice came up beside her, speaking to the bartender on her behalf. 

Y/N turned to see a very boyishly handsome man with blue eyes and brown hair so dark that it was almost black. 

He gave that bartender a look and Y/N watched as he nervously grabbed the much more expensive brand – the one Y/N would never in her life buy for herself. 

“Thank you,” Y/N said as politely as possible when the bartender slid the drink towards her. 

Then she turned her attention to the young man. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

He gave her a crooked smirk. “You deserve the very best.”

Y/N might not have ever met Jason’s brothers. But they were famous enough to make frequent appearances in the media. Everyone in Gotham knew what the Wayne kids looked like. Especially Dick Grayson, who seemed to thrive in the spotlight in a similar manner to his father. 

“Oh? And how do you know what I deserve? You don’t know me at all,” Y/N challenged with a tilt of her head. 

Her sass seemed to excite him. 

“Well, I was hoping, since I saved you from the cheap stuff, that you’d give me a chance to.” 

Y/N shook her head with an almost baffled smile. This faux charm and air of confidence was so unlike Jason’s. While Jason was quietly confident and sure of himself. It came almost from a place of nihilism. But Dick…Dick had an edge of haughtiness and self importance. 

“Your reputation precedes you, Dick Grayson,” Y/N cooed, with mischievous glint in her gaze, before taking a sip of her drink. He was right: this was the good stuff. 

Dick’s amusement seemed to falter now that she confessed to knowing exactly who he was. “And what reputation is that exactly?”

“Cocky, charming…flirtatious.”

Dick didn’t seem to mind these adjectives at all. In fact, he seemed rather proud of himself. He stepped a little closer to her. “It feels a little unfair that you seem to know me, but I haven’t even gotten your name.” 

Y/N tried to suppress her smile. She was really starting to enjoy this little game. “You’ll realize soon enough.” 

“Well, until then…” He stepped even closer and somehow managed to put his hand on her back without it feeling creepy. “Would you like to dance?” 

“Move that hand any lower, Dick, and I’ll fuckin’ break it,” Jason said from behind Y/N. 

Dick barely moved away from Y/N, but looked at his brother with confusion. 

Y/N turned and maneuvered her body away from Dick’s grasp. 

Then she smiled at Jason as she took in the sight of her boyfriend wearing a suit. Like, a real suit, not one made for a vigilante. He managed to tame his hair without using too much product. And his face had its signature scruff but cleaned up a bit. 

“How long has this one been annoying you?” Jason asked her. 

“Not long,” she replied before giving him a sweet kiss. 

Y/N turned to face Dick again, but remained close to Jason’s side. On instinct alone, Jason placed his hand on her back and pulled her even closer. It wasn’t possessive, but a habit he formed to comfort himself.

Dick blinked as his mind clearly figured out the change in situation. 

“You’re Y/N?” He asked her. 

She smirked. “Told you that you’d realize it soon enough.” 

“Dick, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is, Dick Grayson.”

Y/N didn’t miss how Jason didn’t refer to Dick as his brother. 

To his credit, Dick recovered rather quickly and politely offered his hand. Y/N didn’t hesitate to shake it. After all, she still wanted to make a good impression on his family. And the flirting was harmless. 

“I apologize for…” Dick’s words died out. 

“Hitting on me?” Y/N offered with a laugh. “I would say I’m flattered, but I’m sure I’m one of many women you will be making moves on tonight.” 

“Do it again, and I’ll swap out the rubber bullets in my guns, Dick.” Jason half warned and half joked. 

Dick seemed unfazed by the threat. “Why don’t you say it a little louder so more people can hear?”

Jason ignored his brother’s warning. 

He turned his gaze down to Y/N. “Let’s go introduce you to Alfred.”

Jason held her hand as he made his way through the crowd. It wasn’t hard to do. Y/N assumed it had to do with him technically being a Wayne or perhaps it was his large and imposing frame that told people to get the hell out of his way. 

Then Y/N was standing in front of an elderly man who had perfect posture and mischievous edge to his welcoming smile. 

“Master Jason, I see that you have finally brought Ms. Y/L/N for me to meet,” Alfred said with a smile. 

Out of all his siblings and father, Alfred seemed to be the only family member that Jason didn’t hold any sort of grudge against. Though Y/N wasn’t really sure what anyone would have against him. From everything she heard, he sounded absolutely lovely. 

He held out his hand, which Y/N instantly went to shake. But instead, Alfred brought her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles. There was something about this family that made everything they do seem charming rather than creepy and uncomfortable.

Y/N laughed at the gesture. “It’s so nice to meet you, Alfred. I’ve heard so much about you.” 

He patted her hand before letting it go gently. “I wish I could say the same for you, dear. But it would appear Master Jason prefers to keep you entirely to himself.” 

She just gave him a polite – yet controlled – smile. Another side effect of Jason being overprotective of her. 

“Thank you for sending the car for me. You didn’t have to do that,” she told him. 

“Oh, nonsense. I would not allow this one to use any excuse for missing tonight.”

Y/N asked him about his foundation with genuine interest. Alfred answered all of her questions with enthusiasm. She wondered how often Alfred got to talk about normal things with the Wayne family. She could only imagine the manor was entirely consumed with matters of vigilantism. 

Alfred also asked Y/N far more questions about herself than she was prepared for. It made her realize that Jason really did keep her quite the secret. Y/N knew she shouldn’t be offended by it, but it made her sad that Jason’s family had clearly shown such an interest in her. Had she known, she may have put more pressure on Jason to introduce her. 

There was a lull in conversation when Alfred’s gaze turned to Jason. 

“Have you spoken with him yet?” He asked evenly. 

They all know who ‘him’ was. 

“I’m here for you, Alfred.” Jason quickly answered. “And we’ve kept you selfishly to ourselves for far too long. I’m sure everyone here wants to talk with you.”

Nice save.

Alfred dipped his head and lowered his voice, “Oh, you are two of the few people here whom I actually wish to converse with…” He finished with a wink before leaving them. 

“And here I thought you got all your charm from Bruce Wayne,” Y/N teased her boyfriend. 

But when she looked up at Jason, he had a dazed looked in his eyes. 

“Hey,” she squeezed his hand in comfort. “You don’t need to talk to him if you don’t want to. In fact, we can go now if you want.”

Jason snapped out of it then. “And leave without destroying this open bar? Absolutely not.” Then he seemed to take her in for the first time that night. “Plus, you deserve to be shown off.”

He leaned down to her ear. “I was so distracted with saving you from Dick that I didn’t get the chance to tell you how beautiful you looked tonight.” 

No matter how many times he said things like that to her or made her feel this way, she still managed to blush at such compliments. 

And for good measure, Jason sealed the praise with a kiss, lightly gripping her chin to make sure she didn’t escape too soon for his liking. 

He barely pulled away from her lips when he smiled and muttered, “Come on. Let’s go steal ourselves a bottle of Dom Pérignon.” 

“Jason,” she scolded in a whisper, “Those cost like $2,000!”

“Exactly.” 

The next hour or so was filled with Jason and Y/N drinking champagne while standing in a corner that protected them from being interrupted. And Y/N did exactly as she promised: joking with Jason about all the stuck up rich people that just came to kiss ass and social climb. 

They were laughing about an old man that was desperately trying to hit on a young woman half his age when someone politely cleared their throat beside them.

But Jason smiled at the interruption. 

A young man, who couldn’t be older than his early 20s, was giving Y/N a delighted smile. However, the first thing she noticed were the shadows under his eyes and how tired he looked. But that didn’t stop his excitement from showing. 

“Y/N, this is my younger brother, Tim Drake. Tim, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

With a dorky enthusiasm, he shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. We’ve all been annoying Jason about bringing you around for quite some time.”

She smiled, “So I’ve heard…” Then she gave Jason a subtle accusatory look.

Tim’s face turned serious, as if he just remembered why he came over in the first place. “I’m sorry to interrupt. Jason would you mind…umm…looking at something for me real quick?”

Jason’s back straightened. 

Tim was trying to be polite to the two’s relationship by keeping out any and all details pertaining to their night life. 

But it was clear to Y/N that was what Tim was referring to. 

Jason looked down at her. 

“You don’t have to babysit me,” she teased him. “Go. I can entertain myself.”

He kissed her cheek and whispered, “If I’m not back in 30 minutes, please come rescue me.” 

She chuckled. “I would, but I’m not sure I’m going to be able to find you...” 

“I’ll bring him back in no time, Y/N. Promise.” Tim told her with a beaming smile. 

Y/N watched them go and Jason gave her one last reluctant look over his shoulder before he disappeared around a corner. 

Y/N sighed and poured another glass of champagne and told herself it was time to mingle. But when she looked up, there wasn’t a single person that looked like they had any interest in making new friends. 

‘Some party this is,’ she thought to herself before abandoning her post and deciding to take herself on a tour of Wayne Manor. 

Y/N decided she wanted to escape the curious and judgmental gazes of the party, and found herself in a darker hallway. Candles were lit everywhere, giving it a gothic semblance. 

Y/N’s heartbeat quickened when she realized she’d discovered a hallway filled with artwork. Millions upon millions of dollars worth of artwork, to be precise. 

She was glad no one else seemed to have wandered this far, for she could take her time to look at all of it. 

“I think you might be the only guest of the manor who has ever taken the time to look at the artwork.”

Y/N jumped at the voice and turned to see the infamous Bruce Wayne watching her with what seemed to be amusement. 

He was nearly as tall as Jason – nowhere near as stout, though. But that didn’t seem to matter because he had an intimidating presence that had Y/N realizing it made perfect sense that this man was also Batman.  

She had no idea how long she’d been staring at the paintings. It was easy for her to get lost in art. It tended to consume her.

“Well, not everyone has a Caravaggio casually hanging in their home.”

Bruce chuckled at that. 

“Sorry,” she quickly told him. “I didn’t mean to snoop. I feel like I’m at the Louvre.”

“Please,” he declined such an apology. “No one in that party could tell the difference between an oil and acrylic painting. It’s refreshing to meet someone who can appreciate art.” He paused. “Have you been?”

“Have I been where?”

“To the Louvre.”

“Oh,” she laughed. “Umm...no, sadly. It’s been my dream to go to Paris in general. I don’t speak French, though. So I don’t know how that would work out.”

Bruce Wayne seemed to be listening closely and had genuine interest in what she was saying. Which felt strange to her for some reason. 

Suddenly, Y/N felt like she shouldn’t be talking to him. Jason made it clear he had no intention of making peace tonight. So Y/N figured she was meant to keep her distance as well. 

“I’m…” she began. 

“Y/F/N Y/L/N,” Bruce finished for her. 

She raised a brow, unimpressed. 

Of course Batman would know every single person coming into his home. He probably caught her lingering in this hallway from multiple hidden security cameras. 

He reached out his hand. “Bruce Wayne.”

She hesitated, her eyes flickering between his fixed stare and his offered hand. 

But it ended with her shaking it, nonetheless. 

“Thank you for bringing Jason tonight. I have a feeling he would’ve never shown had it not been for you.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched in an attempt to stop herself from lashing out at Bruce. 

Yes, Jason was protective of her. But Y/N was also protective of Jason. 

It wasn’t the Wayne family that talked Jason out of the darkness. They weren’t the one who comforted him after his nightmares. They weren’t the one who kissed and touched the autopsy scars that he was ashamed of. They weren’t the one who made him realize he wasn’t a failure or a monster, that he was worth something.  

That was Y/N. 

And she wasn’t going to let any of them cause him to relapse.

“Did he tell you not to talk to me?” Bruce questioned.

He wasn’t one to beat around the bush. 

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Jason doesn’t tell me what to do.” 

Bruce smirked at how she didn’t back down and met his confrontation with confidence. “You’re not too fond of me, are you?”

Y/N shifted her weight a bit, but kept quiet, not wanting to confirm or deny his suspicions. 

“I’m not sure what Jason told–”

“He told me everything,” Y/N cut him off sharply. 

Bruce tilted his head. “Surely not everything.” Proving that he knew Jason completely kept Y/N away from his vigilante and crime life. 

Then Y/N lost her composure and took a step toward Bruce. “You call him your greatest failure,” she accused him. 

“Because I let him down.” 

“But it doesn’t matter how you meant it. How do you think that makes him feel?”

Bruce’s body tensed and his jaw tightened. 

Suddenly a dog came running out of nowhere and nearly tackled Y/N. She managed to stay on her feet, but her glass of champagne was knocked from her grasp and shattered on the floor. 

“Titus!” Bruce growled at the dog. 

A second later, a boy came running. 

“Damian, what did I tell you about keeping pets away from parties,” Bruce scolded.

“I apologize,” Damian told Y/N in a voice that should’ve belonged to an adult, rather than a pre-teen boy. But he seemed rather annoyed that he had to apologize to a stranger. 

Y/N chuckled at the black Great Dane. She barely had to bend down to pet the giant dog. “It’s fine. Dogs are always my favorite people I meet at parties.”

Damian looked between his father and Y/N, immediately getting the sense that she was not the average party guest. 

“Who’s she?” He asked bluntly. 

“Damian, this is Y/F/N Y/L/N.” Bruce gestured with an upturned palm. 

“Todd’s companion?” Damian stated, clearly sounding unimpressed. 

Jesus. They really did all know about her.

“Damian…” was all Bruce said to warn his son. 

“I don’t know what you see in him.”

“That’s enough, Damian.” Bruce snapped. 

That finally got the boy to shut his mouth. 

Y/N was about to tell both of them that it was fine. She had expected such greetings from Jason’s youngest brother. 

But her attention was diverted when she noticed Jason standing at the edge of the hallway. 

Bruce followed her gaze. 

There was a stare down between the two men that felt like an hour to Y/N. 

“Jason,” Bruce greeted steadily. 

Jason looked at his family coldly. “Bruce,” he replied with even less emotion. Then he looked down at his youngest brother, “Demon Spawn.”

“Todd,” Damian spat back. 

Jason’s gaze softened when it landed on Y/N. Ignoring the tension, he reached out a hand in her direction. “We should say our goodbyes to Alfred.” 

Y/N nodded and walked to her boyfriend, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. 

He quickly guided them back to the party without a second glance to Bruce and Damian. 

As soon as they were in a mass of people again, Y/N turned to Jason to ask him if he was OK. A part of her felt guilty, like she’d been caught doing something bad by being alone with Bruce Wayne. 

But Jason seemed to sense her concern and spoke before she could. “I’m stealing another bottle of champagne before we go,” and quickly went to the bar. 

“He lasted longer than I expected,” Dick’s voice came up beside her. 

Y/N barely glanced at him. “I’m proud of him,” was all she replied, as they both watched him. 

“I apologize for my behavior earlier. I’m afraid I didn’t give you the best first impression.”

Y/N fully turned to face him and laughed lightly. “I promise I won’t hold it against you.”

“I’m sure you think we’re all just being polite…but all of us really were looking forward to meeting you, Y/N.” 

“Even Damian?” She teased. 

Dick laughed. “Well, rumor is that Titus took an immediate liking to you. And Damian trusts his pets’ judgement of character more than any of ours.”

News really did travel fast in this family. 

Y/N smiled at that. “I’ve wanted to meet all of you for so long. I’m glad we finally made it happen.” She went back to their original topic. 

Dick winced. “I’d rather not think about what Jason’s said about us…”

“I think you might be pleasantly surprised,” she countered. 

“Ready to go?” Jason interrupted, ignoring Dick. 

For good measure, he dipped down to kiss Y/N’s bare shoulder. 

“Yeah, let’s go say bye to Alfred.” 

But she turned back to Dick. And to everyone’s surprise, she wrapped him into a hug. Dick was surprised, but welcomed the gesture. 

“Please keep an eye on him out there,” she whispered to him quietly enough so Jason didn’t have a chance of overhearing.

“Of course,” he told her. 

————————

Bruce pretended to be listening to a conversation with old family friends as he watched Y/N and Jason hug Alfred goodbye. 

He noticed Y/N say something to Alfred that made the butler’s face go serious. Then she handed him a business card. 

Bruce wanted to talk with Jason. He’d been both dreading and looking forward to tonight, hoping a miracle would occur and he could finally mend things with his son. 

But the way Jason had looked at him, Bruce knew everything he was feeling and it was clear Jason wasn’t going to let things go between them any time soon. 

Bruce politely excused himself and went to Alfred’s side. 

“What was that last bit about?” Bruce asked, indirectly telling Alfred that he’d been observing their conversation. 

Now the two men both watched Jason and Y/N from a window that gave a view of the front drive. 

Y/N threw her head back and laughed loudly at something Jason had whispered in her ear. 

“She asked if I could teach her first aid.”

They both know it went much deeper than first aid. Y/N was asking Alfred to show her how to stitch wounds, how to extract bullets, when to know Jason was too hurt to be fixed up by his inexperienced girlfriend. 

“She’s good for him,” Bruce thought aloud. 

“That she is, Master Bruce.” 

“I forgot what his laugh sounded like.” Bruce paused for a moment before adding, “I’ve never seen him smile like this. Not even before…” His words died. They both knew what ‘before’ was referring to. 

Suddenly Y/N pointed to Jason as she walked backwards, clearly giving him a warning of some sort. 

But Jason ignored her as he grabbed her by the waist and threw her over his shoulder. One of his hands was wrapped tightly around her thighs, securing her body to his chest, while the other hand held a bottle of champagne. 

They could hear Y/N’s laughter, even from inside the mansion. 

Alfred observed how Bruce watched his second son. “You must give him more time, Master Bruce.” 

However, Bruce said nothing in return. 

--------------------

Part 2

Please, please, please let me know what you think. I will take constructive criticism on my characterization of Jason Todd, as long as it’s done nicely😅 

[Also, I finally stopped being lazy and made my own header. 😂]

[kaz-therat]

Cold Fingers

Diluc x Reader

BREATHING FOR THIS MAN GOOD LORD

May or May not have been listening to a Diluc playlist while writing this

ALSO I HAVE A HEADCANNON THAT PYRO VISIONS ARE JUST NATURALLY WARMER THEN ANYONE ELSE

Word count: 1.5k

(hehe i hope you guys like it)

The wind blew harshly against the mountains of Dragonspine as you followed the trail. Snow began littering the ground, getting caught in your hair. You quickly brushed it away and continued forward. You had no idea where you were but you hoped it would end soon.

You went on a small mission that turned into you getting seriously lost. The reason you went out on this mission was to get some flowers for Diluc so he could make a new wine. So he asked his best worker, which just so happened to be you. He asked you to be back yesterday afternoon, but you couldn’t even find what he was looking for so you decided to turn back and accept defeat. Thats when you got your trails mixed up and helplessly lost. Diluc was gonna need to find another hard worker to replace you because there was no way you were gonna make it back before you froze to death.

You must have been losing your mind because you swore someone was calling out to you. You looked down the trail to see someone running towards you. You yelped as you were tackled to the ground.

“You had me worried sick!” A voice said holding you tightly. “God you’re freezing.” They said pulling you up off the snow. Blue eyes met yours.

“Kaeya. Jesus.” You mumbled huddling close to him to get warm. He wrapped an arm around you and guided you to Mondstadt.

“How’d you get all the way out here? You had us worried sick.” He asked keeping a firm arm around you.

“I was looking for a flower for Diluc.” You replied. “I got lost and now i’m here.” Kaeya clicked his tongue. He was obviously pissed off.

“Just keep moving. We’re almost there.” He said, his voice seemingly getting faint. He let out a quiet wail as you collapsed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You awoke to a bird chirping at your window. You groaned and sat up weakly. You looked outside to see the bright sun shining in your eyes. You squinted against it to see the statue in front of the church. You quickly pulled yourself out bed and down the stairs, rushing past Kaeya in your kitchen.

“Woah, y/n!” He called, stopping you in your tracks. You turned around to see him staring at you. “You’re safe. Calm down.”

“Did you bring me home?” You asked walking to sit down in your chair. He nodded.

“Yeah. You were freezing so I bundled you up and stayed downstairs in case you needed me.” He explained before feeling at your forehead. “You’re still cold. Let’s sit you down and wrap you up.” He said picking you up and carrying you to the living room.

“I can walk on my own Kaeya.” You protested, but he wouldn’t set you down.”

He set you down and went off to grab your blankets. As he just disappeared upstairs, your door busted open. You flinched as it slammed shut. Diluc rushed into the living room and hugged you tightly.

“You had me so worried, I thought you had died.” He mumbled. You sat there shocked. Diluc was never one to really let his emotions out, let alone hug someone. You gently pat his back.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry anyone.” You replied quietly. “I couldn’t find that flower you wanted either.”

“Forget the flower. I could’ve lost you.” He whimpered. You blinked a couple times. Surely he meant his best worker. Diluc was never interested in having a lover, or even the slightest bit interested in a person. He was always so focused on his work.

“Well I’m here now, so there’s no need to be so emotional.” You said softly. He pulled himself off of you hesitantly and nodded. “Um. Kaeya went upstairs to get some blankets because i’m still frozen.”

As if on que, Kaeya came down with a bundle of blankets. He threw a look at Diluc that wasn’t necessarily kind but it wasn’t too aggressive either. Diluc straightened up and nodded towards Kaeya.

“Nice to see you can finally make it.” Kaeya muttered as he draped a blanket over you. A scowl held on his face. You knew Kaeya and Diluc haven’t gotten along for the longest time, but you had no idea why.

“I had to close down the Tavern. You know that takes some time.” The red head spit out. Venom was in his words. “You know that can take a while. I’m here now.”

You shrunk into your blankets. “Guys. There’s no need. I’m ok-“

“This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t send them off on your stupid errands.” Kaeya snapped. They were completely zoned into each other.

“I didn’t expect them to get lost. It was only a half a day trip.” Diluc responded. Kaeya scoffed. “I didn’t ask for you to get on my ass about how I treat my workers.”

“They are more important then those workers. You of all people should know that.” He stated it so firmly before storming out.

The two of you sat in silence for a while. His hand clenched then unclenched, only to clench again. You watched him carefully as he tried to calm down. The sun had began to set and the room grew darker. A small candle was your only source of light to stare at the male n

“I’m s-“

“There’s no reason to apologize.” You cut him off. “It was my fault for not paying attention and getting lost. You can’t control that.” You patted down on the couch next to you. “Sit. You’ve had a long day.”

Diluc hesitantly sat down and looked down at his hands. “I sent you off on my stupid errand when i should have done it myself.” You gently grabbed his gloved hand.

“It’s fine. You are always so busy, I just wanted to help you.” You replied. He smiled a bit. “Just relax a bit. I’ll be back at work tomorrow. So you have nothing to worry about.”

“Alright. You’ve convinced me.” Diluc said laying back into the couch. You smiled a bit and sat there in your bundle of blankets. You still were cold but it wasn’t as bad anymore.

As you sat there in silence, you began to fall asleep. Your head rested on the back of the couch and closed your eyes. Diluc shifted a bit and he pulled you on him to rest on his chest. You hummed softly, glad to feel warmth that wasn’t from the blankets. He gently ran his fingers through your hair and began talking. He must’ve thought you were already asleep.

“You know y/n, I was so worried I lost you. I know I said it earlier but i mean it. You mean a lot to me as a person. And I hate saying all this sappy stuff, but I just need to get it off my chest.” He rambled. “I remember the day you came to me begging for a job. I was so hesitant before you looked like you never touched alcohol in your life before. But I’m glad I did. Because now I know you. How you light up when a dog crosses your path. Or how you get upset when you can’t feed everyone lunch. Or even when you’re upset because you messed something up. And god it hurts to see you cry. Because I love you y/n. From the first time i laid eyes on you I knew I would. I just can’t tell you that because i’m scared you won’t feel the same. I’m scared you’ll leave me, like everyone has.”

You stopped breathing when he stopped talking. Sure you thought Diluc was cute and sure you may have developed feelings for him as you worked alongside of him. But to hear him say it really set you off.

“Diluc.” You mumbled. He froze. “Don’t say anything. I need to do something.” You said sitting up.

“I’m sorry I-“

“Didn’t i just say hush?” You grumbled before hugging him tightly. “Just let me enjoy this before you change your mind.” You felt him hug you back.

“I meant everything I said.” He said into your hair. “I really do love you.”

“I heard you the first time.” You laughed and sat back to look at him. “I may or may not like you too.” You teased.

He smiled a bit before leaning in slightly. “May I?” He asked quietly. You nodded.

“I thought that was obvious.” You laughed. He leaned in all the way and kissed you softly. It was a sweet and sensual kiss. He clearly meant what he said and wanted to show it. His hands pulled you closer and rubbed your sides. He pulled away first to look at you.

“Well?” He asked quietly.

“I think I have the world’s richest man in my house.” You said laughing. “But at least he love me.”

[poetrusicperry]

A Meddling Friend

charlie dalton one shot

word count: 2,380

warnings: none

notes: soooo i wrote a matchmaker!charlie one shot because i felt like it heh (also there is no way charlie isn’t the best matchmaker around tbh)... here it is (: 

A Meddling Friend

When Charlie “Nuwanda” Dalton set out to do something, hardly anything could stand in his way. A meddler by plain terms, Charlie butted his way into any situation, whether he saw a benefit in it for himself or for others. Oftentimes, Charlie’s triumphs would stem from wanting to succeed. In what? The possibilities were endless. He had once convinced his entire chemistry class to fudge their hardest experiment of the year (“Look, the teacher can’t possibly fail all of us; a failure on all of us means gigantic failure on him,” he’d said pointedly), he’d tricked his younger sister into begging their parents for a dog, despite her allergies (when asked about why he didn’t just ask his parents for a dog, he claimed they were much more inclined to appease his sister), and he’d smooth-talked his way into a date to the Ridgeway Junior Prom at a diner in town on a dare (“Now I have a hot date and five bucks from all of you”). His successes were plentiful, and there was no end in sight.

So when Charlie had endured months of secret glances between his best friend, Neil, and Neil’s roommate, Todd (not to mention the awkward, weighted silences and painfully obvious unsaid words), Charlie decided to do what he did best: meddle.

The leaves were in their adolescence on the trees; varying shades of orange and red made campus seem ablaze. Charlie would find himself, on multiple occasions, staring out the window when he was supposed to be paying attention in class. Today was no different– the leaves were beckoning, and Charlie’s eyes sat fixed upon them until he heard his name being called from the front of the room,

“Mr. Dalton?” being at the back of the room, everyone turned in their desks to look at Charlie.

“Yes, sir?” he replied, unfazed. Dr. Hager had begun to go into detail about the question he had just asked Charlie, but Charlie’s gaze was, again, caught. This time, by Todd, who was the only person not looking at Charlie; Todd was looking at Neil. Charlie hadn’t heard a word his teacher had said, more focused on the fact that Todd was gawking at Neil and Neil didn’t even seem to notice. Rolling his eyes at Charlie, Richard Cameron (Charlie’s roommate), raised his hand to answer the question Dr. Hager asked.

“That’s a demerit, Mr. Dalton,” Dr. Hager deadpanned before calling on Cameron. After everyone had turned back around to face the front of the room, Charlie sat forward in his seat, watching Todd, who was still looking at Neil. Upon dropping his pencil, Neil bent to pick it up, locking eyes with Todd on his way back to sitting normally. A smirk played on Charlie’s face when Todd’s face flushed as he turned back toward the front. And Charlie couldn’t help but notice that Neil’s cheeks had also turned slightly cherry-colored as his eyes darted back to his notes. Charlie sat smugly back into his chair and began to hatch a scheme in his head. If he could just get them to admit their feelings for each other, the world would be a better place.

A few weeks prior to the day, Charlie had caught Neil drawing a heart around Todd’s name in the margins of a trig textbook. A few days before that, Todd had read an original poem out loud in their English class that was so clearly about Neil it was painful (“Richest coffee eyes / That paint the stage wonderful”).

Charlie didn’t dare bring up the subject with any of his other friends, but once alone with Neil after Chemistry, he began to work his magic.

“What’s bugging you?” he asked Neil, nudging him slightly as they walked down the hallway.

“What?” Neil returned, confused.

“You dropped your pencil during chem. I’ve never seen you do that. So that either means you were distracted by something, or you were falling asleep, which means you haven’t been sleeping well because you’re stressed out. Which is it?” Charlie prodded, looking at his friend as they continued down the hall, “Come onnnnn, Perry,” he goaded, elbowing Neil, who sighed in exasperation.

“It’s nothing, Charlie,” Neil groaned, adjusting his books in his arms and casting a nervous look at Charlie.

“Lie to anyone else, Neil. Anyone else but me. It’s just embarrassing at this point,” Charlie smirked, “And offensive.”

“It’s just… the play. It’s hard to memorize without help,” Neil sighed before turning to Charlie, “You could help? Do you want to help me, Charlie?” Neil said excitedly. Bingo, Charlie thought.

“I’d really love to, Neil, but I’ve got some Latin stuff with Meeks for the next few days,” Neil sighed, “I do, however, know someone who can help you,” Charlie finished, pleased with himself.

“Who is it?” Neil cocked an eyebrow.

“I don’t know if you know him, but I’ll just tell him to meet you somewhere tomorrow? What time?”

“How do I know this guy isn’t crazy?”

“Again, I’m hurt. You don’t trust me to put you into good hands?” Or Todd’s hands, Charlie thought, laughing to himself.

“Of course I trust you, Charlie, it’s just… I don’t know, I’m stressed out, and my father is all over me, I just need some help. If you know someone who can help, I’m more than willing to accept. I don’t mean anything bad by my reactions, I promise.”

“I know you, don’t, Neil,” Charlie clapped Neil on the back, “At the dock, tomorrow at 4. He’ll be there,” he looked at Neil, “Everything’s going to be okay. I promise,” Charlie smiled as they made their way onto the landing of the boys’ floor.

After parting ways with his friend, Charlie bursted the door to his own room open, startling Cameron, who was sitting at his desk studying.

“Jesus, Dalton, you scared me half to death,” Cameron clutched his chest.

“Sorry, darlin’,” Charlie smirked, jumping into bed (with his shoes still on). He turned onto his back and put his hands behind his head, crossing his outstretched legs.

“Can you look at this trig, see if it makes sense?” Cameron asked, holding his textbook up to Charlie.

“At any other time, any other day, and in any other circumstance, I totally would, but I have some things to plan. Sorry, Cameron,” Charlie shrugged, closing his eyes.

“Come on, Charlie. I rarely ask you for help, and the one time I do, you won’t do it?” Cameron groaned. He opened one eye at the redhead across the room.

“Trust me when I tell you, the thing I’m planning is a lot more important than trig,” Charlie shot Cameron a knowing look, then closed his eye again, beginning to visualize and scheme as his roommate huffed a sigh and turned back around to his desk.

The following day brought giddiness for Charlie; he’d gotten Neil committed to going down to the docks, now he just needed to get Todd alone. The only thing Charlie was still figuring out was how. Todd was the biggest introvert Charlie knew.

Charlie’s proclivity for picking up on the ins and outs of his best friend had led to having more insight into Todd as well. Todd Anderson was new to Welton this past fall. And he was Neil’s roommate, so by association Todd had slowly, but surely (and slightly excruciatingly) joined Neil and Charlie’s friend group. He mostly listened and watched, but always sat near (although not too near) Neil when they were hanging out.

Since they were kids, Neil had always been personable; every new thing he learned about a person, would be spun in a positive way, even if the trait was inherently “bad.” He and Charlie would spend hours talking about people, but not in the “let’s gossip” kind of way– they both found a lot of intrigue in the general population. Even as children they were constantly surveying their peers in a way normal children wouldn’t. When Neil had met Todd, it was no different; he would go on about his sandy-haired roommate for ten minutes straight without taking a breath. Why Todd had transferred schools, where his family is from, what kinds of activities he liked. Charlie found the answers to these questions interesting, but perhaps nothing was more intriguing to him than the fact that Todd had willingly shared all this information with Neil. From what Charlie had experienced, Todd was not a talker, and would rather sit in a painful silence for hours on end than open up to the friend group or start a conversation… but he was doing so with Neil. Granted, Neil asked a lot of questions, but Todd seemed comfortable enough around him to share. That was the first thing Charlie noticed between the two of them, and the catalyst that had sparked Charlie’s master plan of getting them together.

After breakfast, which entailed a small conversation about Playboy models, gross scrambled eggs, and of course, a silent Todd, Charlie hung back to catch the boy before he slipped away to the dorms before class.

“Hey, Anderson!” Charlie called, jogging after him. Todd looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

“H-hey Charlie, what’s up?”

“Listen, I was wondering if you could do me a favor?”

“Um, s-sure?”

“I’m meant to help out one of my friends with his poem later, but I have Latin tutoring with Meeks, and I figured since you’re so good at it, you could meet with my friend to help him out?”

“I… I don’t know, Charlie,” Todd knitted his eyebrows at the idea of meeting and talking to who he thought was a perfect stranger.

“It’d really mean a lot, Todd,” Charlie pulled his most innocent face and looked at the boy in front of him. Todd was quiet still, “Listen, if you really don’t want to, it’s no sweat. I just figured I’d ask you since you’re so good at writing,” Charlie smiled small, not wanting to push Todd that far.

“I… um, no I-I”ll do it. Where?”

“Ah, Todd you’re a lifesaver! It’s 4p.m. at the dock. You’re sure you want to?”

“Yeah, just… tell your friend I’ll be there,”

“I will, thank you!” Charlie called, backing away from Todd and turning away to head to class. I won’t be telling anyone a thing, Charlie grinned to himself, feeling pleased.

When the clock read 3:56, Neil began to get nervous. No one had shown up. Was Charlie pulling his leg? I’ll give them five more minutes, Neil thought, sitting criss cross on the dock and twiddling his shoelace between his fingers. His “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” script sat on his lap, frayed edges and all.

4:04, Neil sighed, looking at his watch. Just as he was calling it curtains for Charlie’s friend, Todd, flush-faced and sweaty, was making his way over to him. He was looking down at his shoes, careful not to stumble,

“H-hi, sorry I’m late, I got stuck in the dining hall behind–” he looked up to see a confused Neil. Neil’s disorientation spread to Todd’s features, “Neil?” he whipped his head around both ways to make sure someone else wasn’t coming.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Neil stood up from the dock, dusting off his pants and clutching his script apprehensively.

“I… um, I’m supposed to meet… Charlie’s friend… he needs help with–” Todd trailed off, looking at Neil quizzically– “Wait, w-what are you doing here?”

“I’m… supposed to meet Charlie’s friend… he’s supposed to help me rehearse lines…?” Neil’s voice upticked at the end of the sentence, confusion prevalent between the two of them.

“Wait, you’re supposed to meet Charlie’s friend, a-and I’m supposed to m-meet Charlie’s friend, too?” Todd shook his head, unbelieving. Neil’s face changed on a dime, a green light going off over his head.

He smiled slightly and huffed a laugh, “I think we’ve been made, Todd,”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I think we’re meeting… exactly who we’re supposed to be meeting,” Neil blushed, looking at Todd, whose cheeks were rosy from rushing over to the dock (and probably at the situation, too).

“We’re… you’re the friend that needs help with poetry?”

“Todd, I think Charlie meant to get us here alone…” Neil looked to Todd, fidgeting even more with his script.

“W-well why would h-he do that…?” Todd chewed his bottom lip. Neil shut his eyes, almost as if the next thing out of his mouth would cause endless pain. He breathed an unsure sigh,

“Because,” he swallowed thickly, looking at Todd, “Charlie knows I have the biggest crush on you, and this was his way of making me make a move,” Neil’s cheeks were a deep crimson.

“You have a-a crush o-on me?” Todd gestured to himself, bewildered. Neil grimaced and nodded, squeezing the script tighter than before, averting his eyes, “Oh…” Todd’s eyes widened slightly as he looked around them once again, “I… are you sure?” Neil sighed again and sat back down on the dock.

“Yep,” he looked at his hands, the script clutched tightly between them, “I’m sure,” he sounded tired all of sudden. Todd stayed frozen for a few seconds before he trudged over to Neil’s slumped body and sat down carefully beside him.

“I guess Charlie’s g-good at this thing, then,” he laughed incredibly lightly.

“What do you mean, why?” Neil cast a glance up at Todd before looking away again.

“I don’t know… b-because I like you, too,” Todd mumbled.

“What?” Neil looked at him again, not daring to turn away this time.

“I like you… t-too,” Todd’s volume stayed the same. Neil raised his eyebrows, his eyes searching Todd’s.

“Really? This isn’t some prank that Charlie is pulling? You’re being serious?” Neil interrogated, his hands still wrapped around his script. Todd just nodded, earning a huge grin from Neil. Silence fell over the pair and their newly learned information, but when Todd spoke, his conviction surprised even himself.

“So can I help you read lines?” Neil’s smile was vibrant.

“I think I’d love nothing more.”

Charlie watched from his dorm window, smiling as the two boys sat down to read lines. He climbed down off of the windowsill and dusted his hands off, another victory in the books.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 16

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 900ish

Summary: Y/N’s first day continues...

~~~

Happy drove Tony, Y/N, and Pepper to the Stark Mansion. Y/N tried to hide her amazement of the place as she walked in, needing to keep her cover. But it was a truly amazing place. 

“I have a room with your things set up upstairs,” Pepper told Y/N. “I’ll show you up there before I give you a tour of the rest of the house.”

Y/N immediately noticed that Tony went downstairs, without saying anything. “Where’s he going?” She asked.

“The workshop. He spends a lot of time down there. You’ll need an access code to get in. I didn’t know what you’d want, so JARVIS set your birthday as your access code.”

“That works.” The two women started up the stairs.

“You have free range of the house, including JARVIS.”

“Okay.”

“I have a room right next to yours, but I rarely use it. This—“ Pepper opened a door, unveiling a grand room with an ocean view. “Is yours.”

“Impressive.” Y/N walked around the room, examining the room, ensuite, and closet. She avoided enjoying the view. The height and the fact that it was looking over the ocean scared her.

After Pepper gave her a tour of the rest of the house, Y/N decided to go and check in with her new boss. She was supposed to be watching him after all. Y/N went down to the workshop, carefully typing in her birthday before the door unlocked for her. Tony was hunched over, welding something together. He glanced up, clearly just to check to see who it was, before continuing with his work. The only room Y/N hadn’t had the chance to fully inspect was the workshop. With her hands clasped behind her back, she walked around the workshop.

“Looking for something?” Tony asked, still focused on his work.

“Just doing my job, Mr. Stark,” she replied.

“I read your resume, Miss Barnes. You’re quite young to have done what you’ve done and become a personal security guard to the richest man in the world. You’re 29, correct?”

“Yes.” Give or take a few decades, she thought.

“What made you want to go into this business?”

“My twin brother and my— his best friend were in the army. Did what I could to follow them.”

“Were?”

“They died.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

Though it wasn’t. She still struggled with their deaths. Every day. It was something that haunted her at night. No one but Phil knew about her nightmares, he was the only one she trusted. Tony and Y/N were silent for a few long minutes before Tony spoke up again.

“What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?” 

“What?” She stopped and turned to look at him. Tony now had his arms crossed and was staring her down. “I don’t think I understand, Mr. Stark—“

“I’ve done a lot of crazy, stupid shit in my life. Most of them I was drunk for. You ever stopped and done anything?”

“Haven’t had the time.” 

“Maybe you should make time. Find some friends, go out and enjoy a night.”

“I have friends, Mr. Stark. They’re just all in the same field I’m in. It’s a lot of dangerous work and busy schedules. We don’t really have time to enjoy a night.”

“Maybe I could show you how.”

Y/N pursed her lips together before walking closer to Tony. “I know that I’m young, Mr. Stark, and that you’ve had success in the past with getting people my age in bed. But, I can promise you, that I take my job very seriously. And I will not be sleeping around with you or drinking on the job. My only priority is making sure your life is safe. Not to feed your caveman appetite.” She turned and headed towards the door. “I’ll be in and out for security reasons. Let me know if you need anything, Mr. Stark.”

This mission was going to take a lot out of Y/N, she could feel it. It didn’t help that while she was inspecting the room, she caught a glimpse of a picture of Howard and Tony. The past two years of living in the twenty first century, had not been easy. Though Y/N had adapted well by Fury and the others standards, a lot of her struggle had been kept personal. She dearly missed Howard, and being this close to his son didn’t help. 

She went to her room and got out her phone to call Coulson. As her supervisor on this, he needed to constantly be updated. Y/N moved into the bathroom, as the phone rang, turning on the sink.

“Agent Rogers,” Coulson greeted. “Surprised to hear from you so soon.”

“I just wanted to let you know that they’re keeping me in the house. It’s going to be hard to stay in contact.”

“You’ve found out anything yet?”

“He has something in his chest. I don’t know exactly what it is though. I’m pretty sure it’s keeping him alive.”

“Figure it out and keep us informed.”

“Will do.”

She quickly hung up before he could ask her anything else. Coulson always worried about her, and she didn’t want to worry him. Y/N didn’t want anyone to doubt her ability to do this mission than she was already doubting herself.

next chapter >

[chaseatinydream]

sleazy seonghwa who sneezes (i) || p.sh (atz)

➳ pairing: reader x park seonghwa (ateez)

➳ word count: 7146

➳ genre: badboy au; fluff

➳ synopsis: by the intervention of fate (namely Choi San), you see a different side to the school’s resident bad boy that you weren’t aware existed.

>>>

Park Seonghwa is, decidedly, what most of the school population would call a bad boy.

With his jet black lip piercing and dyed blonde hair that is clearly in rebellion against every dress code in school, he’s exactly the sort of boy your parents warn you against. The black leather jacket he wears in place of his uniform tie and blazer doesn’t really help his image at all, and you’re sure you’ve seen him step into school at precisely twelve in the afternoon from the window of your classroom, long after lessons have started.

You’ve known Seonghwa for a long time, since elementary school, back in the days when his hair was still its natural shade of soft ebony and his lips curved up in a soft smile instead of the thin, sharp line it does now. With silent eyes you’ve observed him over the years, watching as the death of his mother struck him as hard as a speeding car and doing a million times the damage, witnessing his transformation from the boy with the cute, candy like smile to the young man with hard, cold eyes and even steelier fists.

A few years, your heart broke for him as you watched him turn away from the light and walk into the shadows without a backwards glance, casting his life away into a hopeless abyss. But as time passed, the memory of that young, lost boy reaching out for his mother’s hand faded, replaced by bruised and bleeding knuckles, split lips and cold eyes.

You had stopped keeping track of how many piercings he’d gotten when you couldn’t count them on your fingers anymore.

Students whisper about him behind closed doors every time he passes them in the corridor, citing unknown sources and rumours about smoking, gang fights, drugs, the usual deal. Girls chatter mindlessly about his good looks, he’s strikingly handsome, you have to admit, but his arctic gaze is enough to keep them at least five feet away. No one dares to cross him, not even the teachers and school authority, and honestly, it’s a miracle he’s still even in this school.

He’s part of a circle of friends the school calls ATEEZ. Their leader, Kim Hongjoong, has kept his mullet for the last three years of high school, completely ignoring the repeated warnings that the school gives him, because who dares to touch him anyway as the eldest son of one of the richest men in Korea? Some you know by face, some by name, but you’ve never met, much less talked to any of them before. Instead, you keep your distance, not wanting to be mixed up in their troubles when they come roaring into school with jet black motorbikes, smirks and bruised fists.

It’s been exactly six years since Seonghwa’s mother passed, and you’re walking to school in the morning. Your earbuds are plugged in, the radio’s on and you’re just listening mindlessly to anything that comes over the station, scrolling through your Instagram feed. Oh. San is considering adopting his third stray cat, the ‘vote yes or no’ option beneath his story.

You click ‘no’, your best friend already has two stray cats and a Shiba Inu in his house, and Shiber is terrified of the felines. It’s a miracle how Shiber even got used to Darong and Puchi, but you doubt that he’ll get used to yet another stray invading his personal territory.

Turning and entering the back gate, you’re stepping across the grounds to your classroom block when your phone suddenly pings with a flurry notifications.

It can only be one person.

[Green Mountain] how could u not let me adopt yobu hes gonna be so sad u know TT

[Green Mountain] retribution on you and your kids and your grandkids and your great grandkids

[Green Mountain] why are we even friends

You roll your eyes, feet crunching on the dry leaves under the soles of your shoes as you type out a reply.

[You] What’s the point of asking for my opinion if you’ve already named him and adopted him San

You’re nearing the back of the school building when you hear a sniffing sound. You pause in your tracks for a moment, wondering if someone is crying from the stress of the exams that are coming in a week, before a soft achoo reaches your ears.

You barely have time to be surprised before the little sneeze is followed by a rapid series of more, each sounding more adorable to your ears than the ones before. There’s another sniffle and a sneeze, and you can’t help your lips curving up in a smile. Perhaps spending too much time around San has made you soft, but you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

You fish out a handkerchief from your pocket, since it’s the first day of the week, you haven’t used it yet. The person behind the noise must have gotten a cold from the chilly autumn weather, so you think they might appreciate the gesture. Stepping up the stairs to your classroom block, you turn the corner around the building with your handkerchief outstretched and a gentle smile already in place.

“Hey, I heard you were sneezing so I thought you might want this...” Your voice trails off as your eyes widen, seeing the infamous Park Seonghwa leaning against the wall, hand over his mouth and nose, your own shock mirrored on his face.

For a moment, the two of you simply stare at each other in stunned silence.

You’ve always admired him in the same way people appreciate statues in art museums, from afar, studying each and every feature but never quite understanding the full story behind the carved jawline, the sculpted nose, the mysterious dark eyes. But this is the first time you’re seeing him up close in the dappled morning rays, someone so far away and untouchable, and you see the flaws that mar what you had once thought was near perfect skin, a bruise at the corner of his mouth, a scrape on his cheekbone, the white scar across his left eyebrow.

His handsome features pinch into a wary scowl when he sees you, straightening up his originally relaxed position against the wall. You’re a little intimidated by his height as he towers over you by at least a head, giving you a dark glare. “Get out of my sight. I don’t need your help-” The words are cut off by a massive sneeze that sends him burying his face in his hands, before he starts hacking furiously, alternating between adorable sneezes and baby-like coughs.

A snort escapes you before you can stop it and he actually pauses to give you a murderous look, right before he goes back to sneezing.

Oh my god, you think in your panic induced haze, he’s going to kill you to stop rumours of his childlike sneeze from spreading around the school.

You fight down the urge to laugh in this terrifying situation, instead focusing on the predicament you’re in. You’re trapped between a rock and a hard place, right before a person with one of the most feared and sordid reputations in the entire school. Give him the handkerchief and risk his anger, or leave without lending him a hand and still perhaps bring his wrath down upon you?

In the end, you simply do what you had set out to do in the first place.

“Here!” You practically shout in his face, trying to muster as much courage as possible so your voice doesn’t tremble, but it betrays you anyway in spite of your efforts. Thrusting the white handkerchief into his hands, you do some sort of awkward bow before the idea can run through your mind fully and your face turns tomato red in embarrassment. “I hope you get better soon!”

And then you spin on your heel and dash into the classroom block before you can die from shame of it all.

“Hey, wait-” Seonghwa calls after you, but you’re already gone, leaving nothing but your white handkerchief in his hand.

“You’re late today.” San remarks in a surprised voice when you slide into the seat next to his, panting for air from your little dash to class.

“I was lending someone a handkerchief. And you’re early.” You turn to the window, making a big show of searching the sky. “I don’t see any pigs, falling or flying… so I must be dreaming.”

“Well, I had to come early to school so my chauffeur could fetch Yobu back to the mansion for me.” Your best friend remarks with a shrug, and a silly, goofy smile crosses his face for a moment at the thought of the adorable one eared ragdoll cat. “I couldn’t leave him waiting here in the cold.”

“I swear the reason all these cats relate so much to you is because of this.” You tug at the thick leather choker resting against his throat, fingers brushing the cool metal of the round, silver studs on it. “If we just add a bell to this, you might as well be an actual cat, Sanie.”

Your best friend merely grins, cocking his head to the side as he looks at you expectantly. “And I suppose that’s…?”

Laughing, you pull a small cardboard box from your school bag, opening it and presenting it to San proudly. It’s a small silver bell, one that reminds you of one on a cat’s collar. The moment you had laid eyes on it at the mall, you had known it would be perfect for him. You gesture for his arm and he stretches it out to you with an amused smile on his face, your fingers fiddling with the friendship bracelet on his wrist. Undoing the clasp, you slide the silver piece onto the bracelet with nimble fingers where it rests next to the Siamese cat charm, the bell making a soft jingling sound.

“Ooh, pretty!” San inspects it with shining eyes, smiling broadly at you. He then takes out his own box, a red jewelry affair with the name of some expensive brand stamped on the lid in bright silver. Your breath catches in your throat as you catch a glimpse of it, the box is probably worth more than the entire charm you bought San.

“Sanie, you know I don’t like it when you buy me stuff like that…”

Your best friend pauses in opening the box, mouth turning down in a sad frown as he looks at you with earnest eyes. “But I want to do it for you. You’re my best friend, and I want to spend my money on you to show you how important you are to me.” You waver at his words, heart sinking as you feel like you’re making use of him for his wealth. But you know San is determined, and besides, he’s already bought the charm, so you sigh and try to fix him with a stern gaze.

“This is the last time, alright?”

San’s face cheers up in a split second.

“Alright!” He whoops, putting the charm of a Norwegian Forest Cat on your bracelet. It feels heavy, probably made of silver and custom made to boot. It’s been your tradition for the last two years of school. Every day, on the first day of a new semester, the two of you had promised to buy each other a charm to celebrate your friendship. Somehow, every charm the two of you had bought for you had ended up being some breed of cat, so you suppose that you’ve broken tradition for the first time today by giving him a bell instead. When San fixes the clasp of your bracelet, he grins at you and pats you on the head.

“There, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

You kick him in the shin. “I said this is the last time, you goof. Don’t go getting any ideas.”

San pouts at you, shaking his head so that his dark brown hair falls into his eyes, showing off the red streaks in them. Your eyes widen in alarm and smack him on the arm as he lounges back in his chair casually, placing his booted feet on the table. “I thought I told you to get rid of those last week before school started!”

Your best friend whistles cheerily, feigning ignorance. “I promised nothing.”

San, for all the adorableness he holds, is too, part of ATEEZ. A certified bad boy, a definite troublemaker. Everything on him, from the designer white shirt with scrawled designs all over it to the multiple silver piercings in his ears to the striking red coat he has slung over his chair, screams rebel in response to every dress code in existence. San rebels, but he at least does it with style.

On the first day of school when the two of you been assigned to seats next to each other in class, the very first thing he’d done upon meeting you was to rip off his tie and declare to you loudly about how the colour scheme of the tie was absolutely hideous when matched with the shade of the blazer. He had then proceeded to rant to you all about the material of the blazer and the undershirt, and you don’t think you’ve seen him in uniform since that day.

Well, you suppose he knows what he’s talking about, considering that he’s the heir to one of the biggest fashion conglomerates in the country. Besides, you’ve stolen that red coat more times you can count on cold days and it often spends the night over at your house when San makes you wear it home.

“What kind of name for a cat is Yobu, though?” You ask San, shaking your head at him as the teacher walks into the classroom. He simply grins at you, tweaking one of his many earrings with amusement.

“A friend of mine chose it-” He begins to explain excitedly, but then your teacher clears her throat in front of the two of you hesitantly and San’s expression darkens, looking up to glance at her as if she’s a pesky fly he’d like to smack. The teacher’s face drains of colour.

“What is it, Ms Kim?” His voice is dripping with venom and you feel your face flush at his bad attitude. You tug on his ear and he yelps in pain, turning back to pout at you.

“Ow! Why are you bullying me?” San sulks like a little kid and you can’t help but swat at his arm. The teacher, drawing a little courage from seeing San being steamrolled into submission by you, pipes up.

“Mr Choi… you’re not supposed to be sitting there-”

That’s her mistake.

San’s eyes turn glacial as he turns to face her slowly, gazing down his nose at her imperiously, dangerously like a cobra waiting to strike. San isn’t loud and quick to anger like some of his other friends are, but he’s no less dangerous with that vicious, poisonous mind of his. The teacher falls silent immediately, none of the other students willing to help her out lest they get on his bad side.

“I’ve said it at the beginning of term and I’ll say it again.” San enunciates every word slowly and precisely, his dark gaze never wavering from the teacher’s eyes. You can almost imagine it, a monstrous serpent like aura looming behind your best friend, frightening everyone before him into submission. You’ve never been on the receiving end of his gaze, but you hear people describing the experience to be akin to staring down the barrel of a gun. “I’m sitting besides her and no one else. Did you not hear me the first time?”

“Mr Choi, I’m just doing my job-”

“Do. You. Understand.”

His last words are nothing like a question, instead carrying a more mocking tone. The threat is like a loaded gun, the bullet unseen and hidden in the chambers of the weapon, but the finger is already resting on the trigger, eager to fire. Your teacher pales at his words, fingers trembling against her binder.

You feel bad for her, so you gently tug at San’s sleeve, pulling his razor sharp gaze away from your teacher. “Hey, San, I’m not going anywhere. How about you start thinking about ways we can get Shiber to warm up to Yobu when we go over to your house later while I have lessons?”

His face brightens right away, the icy look melting right off like snow in the summer at the thought of Yobu and Shiber playing together. “Of course! Why didn’t I think about that?” Pulling a piece of paper from your bag, he swipes one of the pens off your table and begins jotting down ideas and names of cat treats. His attention off the teacher, the entire classroom heaves a simultaneous sigh of relief.

Your teacher takes five minutes to calm her racing heart before the lesson begins.

Seonghwa sits at the bench at the school gates, waiting for the rest of his friends.

Golden and red leaves spiral through the air, caught and tossed around by the autumn winds as they flutter to the ground like clipped butterfly wings. They fall to the ground, devoid of the green freshness of spring, dead and utterly lifeless. He remembers the limp hand of his mother, her fair skin drenched in crimson lifeblood, the drunk driver having crashed right into the side of his mother’s car as she returned home from buying him supper. She’d died on the spot, right before any the ambulances and paramedics arrived.

His fingers curl around the dry maple leaves, crushing them and scattering them with the wind. He hates the autumn. All it brings is death and pain.

“Hyung!”

He’s pulled from his thoughts and turns around to see three of the five 99’ liners stepping out of the school gates, arms slung over each other’s shoulders. A smile crosses his face briefly. No matter how terrifying of an image he might have to others, he has a soft spot for the rest of the boys in ATEEZ. All of them have stuck together through thick and thin, supporting each other no matter the struggle, Wooyoung through his addiction and Jongho through his fits of violent rage, Hongjoong with his familial conflicts at home and so much more. They’re like family to him, he briefly wonders, before his eyes darken at the thought of his drunken father back in the house they share.

He forces the thought from his mind, instead looking upon his friends’ faces, frowning in confusion.

“Why are you smiling so much, Sanie?”

The boy in question merely grins wider, tucking his hands into his pockets as he dodges a kick Wooyoung aims at him. “Wooyoungie tripped on Mingi’s shoe and fell down the stairs earlier.”

Mingi stifles a laugh at Wooyoung’s flat expression.

The sleeves of San’s white shirt are rolled up, showing the cat charm bracelet dangling from his wrist. The silver bits and bobs usually tinkle and jingle, letting everyone in the area that San is coming, but today, the sound seems to be especially prominent. Seonghwa’s eyes rake over the charms, counting five, six, seven…

He spots a silver cat bell dangling at the end.

“Did you get a new charm, San?” Seonghwa asks, curious and San nods proudly, preening in front of his hyung. The bell jingles once more, as if showing off to Seonghwa.

“She got it for me!” He smiles widely, stuffing his hand back into his pocket. San doesn’t need to say who it is for Seonghwa to know. Aside from ATEEZ, San has no friends… except a mysterious girl that San doesn’t want mixed up in their business.

“Can’t have Wooyoung seducing her from me.” He’d joked once, to Wooyoung’s not so amused amusement.

But Seonghwa can understand why San wouldn’t want his friend to be associated with them. From the way San speaks about her ever so often, she seems to be a quiet, mild tempered girl who focuses hard on her studies and can even miraculously convince San to revise for the upcoming exams with her in the school library. Being related to them in any way could stain her pristine reputation, make it difficult for her to attain any student leadership positions in the school that were vital to a portfolio, or even make any friends in general.

Honestly, Seonghwa doesn’t know why she would stick with San.

But San is happy when he speaks about her. He’s clearly fond of her, he’d even dragged all of them to search for a suitable charm for her birthday gift.

Then a ticklish feeling rises in his nose and he pulls the handkerchief from his pocket, sneezing into it. He doesn’t want to admit it, but the piece of white cloth has saved him so many trips to the convenience store nearby to buy a pack of tissue. Looking down on it, he sighs as he looks the handkerchief over. It’s a piece of plain white cloth, without embellishment or embroidery, nothing outstanding to set it apart from others physically, but unique, because it was there for him when he needed it. Just like the girl who’d given it to him, he thinks to himself with another sigh, wondering how exactly he’s going to find her and return the handkerchief to her.

He doesn’t remember much about how she looks, having been trying to stop himself from sneezing in front of her when she’d literally thrown the handkerchief in his face and shouted at him to get better, before she dashed away faster than Usain Bolt on steroids.

Honestly, who still uses handkerchiefs in this day and age?

“Did you catch a cold, hyung?” Ever perceptive Wooyoung asks curiously, before spotting the handkerchief in his hand. “I didn’t know you used handkerchiefs, though.”

For some reason, something in his voice is completely judgemental and even though Seonghwa feels the same, he can’t help but feel like he needs to defend the girl who gave it to him, at least. Then he catches himself, frowning. Wooyoung’s too curious for his own good, tell him a little and the he’ll have her name, class, blood type, age, address, favourite food down to a tee tomorrow.

Besides, Seonghwa wants to do this by himself.

So Seonghwa shakes his head.

“It’s not mine. A girl gave it to me in the morning, but I don’t know who it was. I owe her a word of thanks, at least.”

Mingi raises an eyebrow, teeth fiddling with the silver piercing on his lower left lip absentmindedly. “Someone approached you, hyung?’ He sounds as confused as Seonghwa feels.

Curious, San glances over at the piece of white cloth for a moment, staring blankly. Then something in his dark eyes glint minutely, the side of his lip quirking up in amusement. Is it fate?

A thought forms and the cogs of his mind start turning, building upon that wisp of a thought until it turns into an idea, then a plan. Seonghwa catches sight of the little smirk on San’s face and frowns in confusion, opening his mouth to ask the younger boy exactly what he’s thinking. He’s a little afraid when San smiles like that. It usually means he’s up to no good.

“San, what is it?”

But San shrugs playfully, eyes shining with glee.

“Oh, it’s absolutely nothing, hyung.”

Seonghwa’s been searching for you for a week now.

For the first time, he actually attends school regularly even if it isn’t to go to class. Standing at the main gate at the crack of dawn, his eyes rake the faces of the students who walk into school every morning. All of them give him a wide berth, wearing the same terrified, yet befuddled expressions, similarly confused as why to the one of school’s bad boys would actually be in the school compound before the bell rings.

Regularly, at that.

About fifteen minutes before the bell rings, he hears the familiar thrum of an engine and raises his head to glance at the driveway outside. Just as he does, a sleek black Jaguar purrs into sight, coming to a stop. It’s presence still causes the same ripple of excitement and anticipation as it did three years ago, and Seonghwa can see all the students in the front yard of the school whispering behind their hands as they discuss the boy inside, wondering whether he’s going to abide by the school rules for once.

The driver, dressed impeccably as ever in a black, custom tailored suit and white gloves, crosses over to the passenger’s side and opens the door for the person inside with a deep bow.

“Young master.”

Kim Hongjoong, eldest son to the CEO of one of the most powerful business empires in Korea and probably the world, steps out with a yawn, rubbing at his eyes as if he’s still half asleep. Then he turns to the chauffeur, who Seonghwa recognises now as Hongjoong’s personal assistant and bodyguard, and gives him a nod.

“Thank you, Jaebeom.”

Jaebeom falters momentarily, head rising a little as he looks at his master. “Young master, you know your father does not like it when you thank me… I am a mere household servant-”

“Who gives a damn what that old fart wants?” Hongjoong grabs his bag from the backseat, adjusting the silver beads and tags in his mullet. “I’ll see you later, Jae.”

The chauffeur can’t exactly argue with his employer, so he merely sighs a little and nods, bowing once more. “As you wish, young master.”

Seonghwa watches quietly as the car zips off down the street.

“Still here, Mars?” His best friend steps up next to him, bag casually slung over one shoulder as he quirks a brow, showing off the eyebrow slit at the side. Seonghwa lets his face relax into a small smile, adjusting the collar of his maroon turtleneck.

“Yeah.”

Hongjoong merely sighs in exasperation, waving his phone in hand. “You know, like I told you at the beginning of all this nonsense, I could have just given Jaebeom a ring and you would have your mystery girl’s identity in a folder on your lap within ten minutes. It would have included handphone number, siblings, hospital records and financial accounts and you wouldn’t be standing here like some lovesick goof every morning.”

Seonghwa doesn’t take any offense to his friend’s barbed words, knowing they stem from genuine concern for him. In fact, Hongjoong only uses his glib tongue and charisma when it comes to charming people into doing things that he wants. He’s not quite as skilled a manipulator as Wooyoung, who can puppet any person like a marionette on strings, but then again few are.

Seonghwa prefers it when Hongjoong takes on this tone with him. It’s more casual, more informal and Seonghwa doesn’t feel like he’s at risk of being played. When he speaks like that, he’s not the heir of the Kim Corporation, Kim Hongjoong, but instead he’s just Hongjoong, Seonghwa’s best friend.

“You know why I want to do this myself.” Seonghwa says softly and Hongjoong pauses a moment, because he does. He understands all too well just having everything presented to him on a silver platter with a golden spoon, not having to put in effort for any of it. Things lose their value that way, and he knows Seonghwa is determined not to let this happen.

Hongjoong merely sighs as he glances at the white handkerchief in Seonghwa’s hand.

“Well, I doubt anyone’s coming in now, it’s pretty late.” He tells Seonghwa, who nods and tucks the neatly folded cloth in his pocket. “Let’s get to class.”

San calls you at approximately five in the morning. On a Saturday morning, in fact.

Groaning as you roll over in your bed, you reach for your phone, the silver cat charms clicking against the screen as you put it to your ear. You’re thinking of a hundred and one ways to slowly butcher him and rip him into tiny little pieces when his cheerful voice comes over the phone. “Hey, my dear best friend, what are you doing up so early in the morning?”

A growl tears from your throat. “It’s 5:16 AM, Choi San. If you don’t have a good reason for waking me up at this time of the morning I’m coming over to your house, I’m going to rip out your throat and I’m going to steal Shiber from you.”

A horrified squeal comes over the phone. “Don’t steal Shiber!”

You almost sigh at how he completely missed out the ‘I’m going to tear your throat out’ bit, but you pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation, sitting up on your bed as the blanket falls to your lap. “What is it, San? If you tell me now that you want to watch reruns of the Golden Girls at this time of the morning, I’m going to strangle you in your sleep.”

“Oooh, kinky.” San whistles and you groan, smacking your head against the bedside table. Murder does really seem to be a tempting option now.

“Choi San I swear if you do not give me a good reason right now I’m going back to sleep-” You begin but then San cuts in more quickly than a swerving F1 racer.

“No no no, please don’t! Well, you see, one of the maids back at my house just told me that Yobu fell sick and needs to see a vet, but none of them are open at this time of the morning.”

Your jaw drops at the news, heart thundering in your chest. “I can’t believe you wasted all my time talking nonsense when Yobu was ill! What are we going to do, San?” You’re honestly worried for that sweet mannered ragdoll cat, fingers drumming anxiously against the table when San continues.

“But I have a friend knows about veterinary medicine since he works part time at a vet, so could you please bring Yobu to him? I’ve already told him that you’re coming.”

Something strikes you as odd and your eyes narrow suspiciously. “San… why can’t you just bring Yobu there yourself?”

“Ahh…” You hear your best friend falter a little over the phone and from the sheepish tone in his voice, he’s up to something again. You’re about to question him when you suddenly realise that there’s the thumping of the bass in the background, synthesizers screaming and the sound of drunken singing. Your heart falls.

“You’re in a club, aren’t you?”

San pauses uncomfortably. You’ve made it clear multiple times that you don’t approve of his partying lifestyle, but you’ve also told him that it’s his life and he needs to make choices for himself. “Yeah… “ His voice is soft over the phone, but then it tries to cheer you up a little. “I swear I didn’t even drink a lot! I’m not even drunk right now! I just came for a bit of booze and the atmosphere.”

At that, your smile softens a little. You know that San is desperately trying to change his ways, but it’s only the beginning, the first step of a long journey. “I know. Be back before sunrise, okay? Stay safe and don’t make me worry about you.”

You can hear San’s smile over the phone. “I promise. Now then, I’m leaving our child in your hands, alright?”

You’ve barely agreed when the call ends, the beeping of the phone all that’s left of your conversation.

You’re standing outside an apartment building at seven.

Yobu lets out a little mrrow from the basket under your arm and you stroke him on the head gently, checking the address on your phone. He looks perfectly fine to you, but then again you’re no doctor. Glancing at the block number and the unit, you’re indeed at San’s friend’s house. What friend, you have no idea, but you really need to get Yobu checked up as fast as possible.

Stepping up to the door, you press the bell once.

There’s an electronic warble and some shifting coming from behind the closed door. “Wait a moment, please-” You hear and you frown, the voice sounds male and vaguely familiar, as if you’ve heard it before. But before you can remember where, the door swings open to reveal the resident of the house.

You nearly drop Yobu in your shock.

You’re so going to murder San in his sleep.

Because it’s Park Seonghwa standing there, blonde hair mussed from sleep, dressed in a soft grey sweater and sweats, staring back at you with equally wide eyes. No leather jacket, no silver chains around his neck, simple black piercings in his ears. To your surprise, he looks soft as a kitten, not at all like that bad boy image you’re so used to seeing in school.

You glance down at his feet. He’s wearing freaking Gundam cartoon themed socks.

“Mrrow…” Yobu meows plaintively from his basket, as if demanding for the two of you to stop staring at each other and get a move on. That’s enough to jerk Seonghwa out of his shock and he opens the door a bit wider to let you in. “Uhh, please come in.”

You do as you’re told, slipping your shoes off at the door and stepping inside. The house is surprisingly bare, a pair of folded mattresses against against the wall and a lumpy couch in the corner. There’s a vet’s bag on the floor, stethoscope already laid out. You glance to the shelf at to your left as you set Yobu down on the ground, there’s a picture of a woman who you assume to be Seonghwa’s mother, and next to that is a collection of assembled Gundam models.

It seems as if someone is a fan.

You’re briefly afraid if something bad is going to happen to you when Park Seonghwa closes the door behind you, but as much as San enjoys playing pranks on you, he’s never one to put you in danger. Seonghwa sit down before you, cross legged, looking painfully awkward for the first time you’ve seen him.

“Umm… Hi…” He greets you softly and you stiffen to attention, Yobu curling in your arms and you hesitantly stroke the tiny cat gently. “So… Yobu is sick?”

Your eyes widen a little in surprise. “You know Yobu?”

Seonghwa nods slowly. “Yeah well… I was the one who named him.” He holds out his hands for the grey ragdoll, looking at you hesitantly while you’re still staring at him in shock from this unexpected information. His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip nervously, dragging across the black piercing there. “May I?’

You somehow regain enough cognitive function to place Yobu into his arms, the small feline nosing into Seonghwa’s chest and he lets out a gentle laugh, nuzzling the kitten with his nose. “Let’s see what’s wrong with you, little guy.”

Your mind is still reeling from all of… this. From what you know, Park Seonghwa is a mysterious bad boy who is a member of a terrifying group called ATEEZ that your best friend also happens to be part of. But even after knowing San for three years, he’s never really exposed you to any of his other friends, so you still steer clear of them whenever you see them in school.

But this Park Seonghwa before you is looking at the tiny kitten like it holds the moon and stars in its tiny paws, humming a soft tune under his breath as he reaches for his stethoscope. He’s nothing like the Park Seonghwa you’re familiar with, bruised fingers gentle as he checks over Yobu for any physical ailments, cooing to the cat in a sweet voice when it attempts to squirm out of his arms occasionally. You usually never say this… but you’re quite mindblown.

“There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with him.” Seonghwa muses after a while, setting his tools down. You’re jerked out of your stunned stupor, letting out a witty ‘eh?’ as he puts Yobu down on the ground, the kitten batting at his sweater sleeve with its paws.

Seonghwa tugs his lip piercing between his teeth and for a second, you’re raising your eyes to heaven to ask exactly what you have done to deserve this punishment, but then he’s speaking once more. “I don’t see anything wrong with Yobu… He seems perfectly fine. Did San mention anything?”

You shake your head. “No, San just told me to bring Yobu over to you.”

“That’s odd…” Seonghwa frowns, fingers fiddling with the piercings on the shell of his ear before he lets out a sigh, rising to his feet. You keep your remark of ‘yeah, that sounds like San’ to yourself as you follow him with your eyes, watching as he steps over to the shelf, opening one of the drawers. “Anyway, I’m glad you came. I’ve been looking for you for a couple of weeks now.”

You pause, a little confused. Looking for you? What would the Park Seonghwa be searching for a person like you?

When he turns around, he’s holding your white handkerchief in his hands.

The two week old memory comes to the front of your mind and your mouth falls open. You remember walking to school, hearing someone sniffing quietly behind the school building, offering them a handkerchief… only for the person to be the one and only Park Seonghwa.

“Ahh…” Is all you manage to say, a little stunned as you accept the handkerchief back. It smells of clean cloth and soap that you don’t quite recognise, meaning that Seonghwa must have cleaned it for you. “You didn’t have to, but thank you anyway.”

Seonghwa shakes his head firmly as Yobu paws at the hem of his sweats, whining for attention. “No, I needed to. Thank you for lending it to me. I really appreciate it… could I repay you somehow? Maybe bring you out for a meal tomorrow?”

Your brain hits the brakes, all activity coming to a screeching halt as the words ‘meal’, ‘tomorrow’ and ‘repay’ bounce around your head like rubber balls. Thankfully, you’re saved from having to answer from the sound of your ringtone, although the second you hear it, you’re tempted to kill San right this second, and maybe yourself too, to save yourself the shame.

“You have a call! You have a call! Hey! Answer it! Don’t ignore me! Pleaseeee~” San’s voice comes from your pocket and you freeze in embarrassment, as Seonghwa stares at you in shock.

Your face turns red and you rush to answer the call, cheeks heating up in horrified mortification. Jabbing the little green icon with as much fury as you can muster, you hiss into the phone when the call comes through.

“What the hell did you do to my phone, San?”

“Hello! How’s my dear Yobu doing?” He sings, completely ignoring your furious question. You pause in your tracks, wheels turning in your mind as you put all the clues together. His too cheerful voice, the handkerchief, how he didn’t tell you Seonghwa was this veterinarian friend…

“Choi San.” Your voice is literally bubbling with mounting vexation and your rage must be clearly heard, because there’s a gulp over the phone. “Did you plan all of this?”

The line goes dead and you stare at your phone in shock.

Then you shriek in fury.

“I’m going to kill that slimy worm! That little bastard! Playing me like this!” Your fists are clenching around your phone, dearly wishing they were wringing San’s scrawny neck instead. You’re about to throw something when a warm hand settles on your shoulder and you whirl around in shock, suddenly remembering that Seonghwa is still in the room with you.

“Is everything alright?” He asks hesitantly, dark eyes wide and concerned and your rage dissipates into thin air, replaced by all too potent self-consciousness. He’d just seen you screaming your head off like a mad woman, for god’s sake.

“Yeah...I’m just going to have to kill that bastard the next time I see him.” You mumble under your breath, turning your phone to silent before savagely shoving it in your pocket. “Yobu is fine, San just played a massive prank on us.”

To your surprise, Seonghwa doesn’t even react in the least, clearly expecting something like this after having known San for so long. He merely presses one hand to his face as he shakes his head in exasperation. “I knew something was up when he was smiling so much that day. That kid, honestly…”

“Sorry for the bother.” You apologise quickly, scooping up Yobu in your arms and placing him in his basket. The ragdoll lets out a soft meow, as if confused as to why you’re leaving so soon when you practically run for the door in shame. But right before you can leave, Seonghwa’s hand grasps your wrist lightly, pulling you back, and you make a soft ‘eep’ in surprise as you turn to face him.

He actually looks painfully nervous, teeth toying with the black piercing on his lower lip as his gaze moves around shiftily, his toes scrunching up under Robot Man’s face. “Well… will you… will you let me bring you for dinner tomorrow? To thank you?”

You freeze awkwardly, the tension between the two of you thick as sauna steam. After a long, awkward pause of silence, Seonghwa finally seems to realise he’s holding onto your wrist and drops it like you have the plague, scooting back several steps to a more respectful distance. His tongue swipes across his pink lips shyly as he musters up the courage to speak again. “Please? I mean, if you’re uncomfortable, you don’t need to, I completely understand-”

You’re snapped out of your lip piercing induced shock when you finally realise that Seonghwa thinks that you’re reluctant to go with him. Not that you aren’t slightly… but maybe it’s time to give San’s friends a chance and get to know them. From what you’ve seen of Seonghwa, he doesn’t seem that bad to you anyway.

Awkwardly, you unlock your phone and pass it to him.

His eyes widen in surprise when he sees a blank contact open, the tiny line hovering at the ‘Name’ bar. Then a smile, one real and genuine, settles on his face as he enters his name and phone number, saving it before he passes it back to you.

“I’ll call you?” He asks as you slip on your shoes, balancing Yobu’s basket in one hand and your phone in the other. You nod in reply, a little breathless from his radiant smile.

“Yeah.”

From the basket, Yobu gives a smug mew of affirmation. His mission is complete.

[dutchmancallypso]

Not that anyone cares, but I have to write this or I’m gonna explode.

I haven’t written anything on Tumblr for literal ages, but now I just have to. I finally watched the interview with Meghan and Harry, and I have to say, the reactions to it have made me almost cry. The reactions of the majority of people kind of show that none of them really listened to the interview, and I have a suspicion that many of them didn’t watch it at all and they just want to have an opportunity to bathe in their hate and spite.

This is the only site I can go to where I can read other reactions than meaningless hate towards these two. 

Here are the most common hateful comments and my reaction to them:

1. “Yeah she’s an actress, she is acting, that’s bad acting, I’m a body language expert, she’s lying. She only wants to blame others etc. Harry is so whipped omg she wanted all of this from the beginning, and his money.”

Harry's mother died, when he was little. From the early age he was not really content with this whole monarchy thing, he served in the military, and he was all around not really the type to just silently sit and listen, even Diana saw this coming eventually, aka the money she left him. Meghan stated very clearly that she valued independence above all, and had her own income. To be with Harry, she basically had to give up her whole identity (heck they didn’t even let her keep her passport!!!) and she was okay with all this. She had to google the royal manners, or how to sing in church etc, nobody taught her. She was willing to give her whole life up so she can be with Harry. She then believed that she will get used to it, and was okay until she believed that she will be protected. Harry stated very clearly that he saw the pattern, that Meghan was eventually going to end up like his mom, and he didn’t want the history to repeat. He had to intervene.

Meghan didn’t name anyone who did her wrong, even though she could, and Oprah clearly wanted her to. On the contrary, she said that Kate is sweet and doesn’t lack self reflection, and the Queen’s personality is warm and she’s always been wonderful to her. She spoke about everyone with respect, and she seemed upset that the situation turned out the way it did. If she was acting, then give her an Oscar please, because at the point of talking about her not wanting to live anymore, I DID cry, and due to my depression-induced emotional numbness, I rarely cry. 

2. “She knew what she was getting into.”

This is the point that got me really convinced about many people not even watch the interview, because she said right in the beginning, she didn’t know what she was getting into, and admitted that she was very naive to think what it is gonna be like. That the reality swept her off her feet. She, as an American, didn’t see tabloids with the monarchy members on the headlines everywhere.

3. “They don’t want publicity and they go and sit with Oprah? Pfft.”  If someone wrote kept posting/saying something harsh about you, resulting in others attacking you, sending you death threats and it put you into fear of your own life, would you just say oh but I’m an introvert I don’t want to talk to anyone so I’m just gonna move to another city and let people throw bricks into my window? Would you?

4. “Oh yes, the rich are complaining, boo hoo.” Kurt Cobain, Marylin Monroe, Chris Cornell, Chester Bennington.... want me to go on?

Someone’s wealth, position etc. doesn’t define who they are. You never know what a person is suffering from. You could be the richest, most beautiful person, loved by millions, but gaining money, fame or publicity, that doesn’t mean you automatically defeat your own demons. I am HORRIFIED that after so many celebrity suicides, people’s mentality on this still can’t seem to change. 

I can give my own example. I am not rich, not famous, but in my teens, I was mostly alone and sad, plus living with my parents who abused me emotionally, I was helpless and suicidal. I thought that was the main problem and once I move out, I’m cured. I’m two years in living on my own, and I am still fighting my demons. I used to have no money and live in a toxic environment, and now I don’t struggle with money that much and have a great roommate, still, my mind is it’s own master... 

Meghan’s talking about not wanting to be alive anymore hit me hard and made me cry. Nobody who hasn’t ever experienced suicidal thoughts can relate or understand, but I am so furious that people seem to lack even the tiniest bit of compassion. 

►Here is a list of celebrity suicides for you to study.◄ 

DON’T DEVALUATE SOMEONE ELSE’S PROBLEMS JUST BECAUSE YOU ARE AN UNEMPHATIC PIECE OF SH*T. DON’T THROW DIRT AT SOMEONE JUST FOR THE SAKE OF IT. OF COURSE MEGHAN AND HARRY’S POPULARITY WENT DOWNHILL IN THE UK “OVERNIGHT”, IF YOU WATCHED THE INTERVIEW, YOU KNOW THE TABLOIDS’ POWER OVER THE UK POPULATION. FFS. 

*************************

If you’re a good human being, thank you. You make this world a lot better with your existence, and based on what I see daily, you’re a drop in the ocean. So much unnecessary hate in this world, everywhere. Don’t support the centuries-long racist institution, just because “it’s always been like this”. Don’t support this sheep mentality. Have your own head, please. 

Whoever read this to the end, I thank you so much and have a great day. Spread love, not corona. ♥

[yanderecandystore]

could you please do any of your yanderes with an s/o that has depression/addiction to self harm? i understand if you feel uncomfortable with doing it, i didn't know if mentions of injury count as gore. Have a good day♥️!

Hi! Hello! Actually, well, I just don't want to do really detailed descriptions of gore, but, honestly something like cuts and bruises are okay.

If one of my characters dies in a brutal way, I may not describe the whole gore aspect in great detail, but I would still be like "yo, there are so really disgusting things happening boo, I ain't going to show them tho".

Anyway my point is: yes! Yes I can do mentions of injuries ☺️!

I used an online wheel so it could decide for me with yandere to use, and this bad boy showed up:

TW/Tags: mentions of injuries // depression (reader has depression) // student and teacher dynamic (it may be uncomfortable to some people, so I'll just warn you before you continue) // mentions of deaths 👀 // also some fluff in the end cause we all need some.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Little sunshine [Yandere!Teacher OC (Only Matthew) x Depressed!Reader - Headcanon]:

Let 's recap. You're a student inside Amaryllis Academy, an institution known for only having the richest and most talented students. Students can either get in because by getting invited by the faculty itself, making an incredibly difficult test or paying for your scholarship. Usually, the students that have chosen the third option were subjected to bullying and unfair treatment from the staff. Some students think that those that pay their way into the academy don't deserve respect or sympathy.

It doesn't matter if you're just as wealthy as them, or if you can barely live with the money that you have, they would still judge you regardless, which obviously leads to you suffering inside school grounds.

Just the time spent inside the institution could be enough to drive someone into madness, he knows that, even if he is now one of the most respected teachers, his first year into the job was… Quite frightening. For a newcomer, seeing how only two students can hold the entire faculty into their control, it is pretty scary.

Seeing how every student is handled by a thin thread only because of some rich kid's blackmailing and insulting fellow classmates is absolutely disgusting in his opinion, and the worst part is how he doesn't have any power to help them.

Students don't come to the faculty to talk about bullying, as they fear worse things could happen, but after seeing a student being all by themselves far away from the main crowd made his heart break.

What made it worse was when he came closer he got to see why exactly you were over here. Your arms, you have cutted them with a razor which managed to take more skin area than you previously imagined. He needed to call help quickly.

You know the usual cliche right? No one was there to help you, so being the knight in shining armour that he is, he called an ambulance and took you in his arms as he brought you inside the ambulance. And of course you would only know what happened when you woke up in the hospital, your clothes changed and your bruises under bandages, trying to heal themselves.

He understands that you may not trust him. He is only another teacher inside the hellish school you hate so much. He can't blame you for not trusting him when he says he wants to help you. He wishes to help everyone, but you're the first person that actually showed physical injuries, even if they were caused by you, they all started because of bullying, and he is pretty aware of that.

So please, let him help you. This may be a selfish request, but please help him help others like you, things should never have come to this.

He wants to be the person you come to talk about yourself when you feel no one else is listening. He'll be honest with you and tell you that he doesn't have a better way of helping you, if not by being of emotional support. You may accept him, which he will do his best to be there when you need guidance.

You may also reject his offer, to which he'll understand but will still feel hurt by how he is incapable of doing more for you, or for other students suffering.

If you accept his offer, he'll make sure to always make time for you so you can come to his office after classes and tell him about yourself and how your day has been. It's really simple, as he is no psychologist, but come on now, it's been a long time since the counselor has actually done their job. Someone needs to do something or otherwise the problem will never be resolved.

If you reject his offer, he'll give you your space, but… Sigh.

He can't. He just can't give you any space. He won't interfere in your daily life, no, dear no! He'll keep his distance, but… He can't help but keep an eye for you. It hurts him to no end the fact that he can't help you, despite you stating very clearly you didn't want his help.

It doesn't matter which you choose, because even if he helps you feel a little better, you're still hurting yourself. Is not as much as you used to, but it is still rather concerning.

He knows you need something more than just mundane private talks, even if those help you get some of the stuff out of your system, is it really doing anything? He is worried he is being more useless and a burden than an helper.

And it doesn't help this growing need to have you closer. He… He doesn't trust you all by yourself, not as long as you keep suffering, not as long-

Not as long as the problem keeps happening…! Yes, yes he got it now! Now he understands how he can help you in a meaningful way!

Maybe the sleep deprivation and constant thoughts of you hurting yourself started to get over his head, but he can see it now! God, this is going to be perfect.

Catch yourself having actually fun days in school. Actually smiling for once in a while, not having the need to seclude yourself from anyone else. It started with one good day that ended up turning into a whole week of good luck for you! Yay!

You were suspicious as all hell as first, thinking that the universe was going to punch you in your face any time soon. Yet, it never came.

You haven't seen your bullies in a while. Hell, you haven't seen anyone being bullied in some time now! This was perfect, yet…

Don't get me wrong, everyone seemed happier, but… The school felt a little empty. It looked like a lot of people were missing school.

Or just went missing.

But you don't need to worry about that, you need to focus on more important things now that you're not constantly in pain. He'll tell you that there are three important things in this world, to study, to take care of yourself, and, well, the third thing is based on each person, what is the most important thing to you is the third most important thing that you care about.

Maybe you don't know what it is yet, but hey, there is always time, right? You find the answers for these types of questions in the most unexpected ways. But if you need a little boost, he would gladly help you out.

Not that you'll have a choice this time, your teacher had slowly made his way into your life, but is it really that bad? He just wants the best for you. He hoped his presence doesn't annoy you, he just can't help but feel the need to protect your smile, even if you only give him a shy little smirk he'll make sure no one ever takes it away from you.

You need someone to talk to? He is here for you. Need someone to help you with your assignments? Well, he won't give you the answers, but he sure can help.

Need a ride back home? Any form of comfort? Hey, sometimes we just need to be reminded how beautiful we're, so maybe that would help brightening your mood?

He won't offer those openly, but he hopes you'll soon get the point. It's his job to take care of his students and is his favorite pastime to take care of you.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Also have a good day as well!

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[fandom-necromancer]

Elijah Karen-ski

This was prompted by an amazing anon! Humour really isn’t my strong suit, but I hope it’s fun nonetheless! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Characters: Elijah Kamski, Gavin, Fowler

‘Phcking bitch ass shit goddamnit!’ Gavin had never thought it would be so difficult to operate a coffee machine with only one hand. He clenched his teeth not to let more curses slip his lips and let the others see his struggle. Finally, he had managed to open the stupid self-closing cabinets and take his mug out, watching how it filled. Now he just had to get it back without running into anyone. He could do that. Taking far longer than directly necessary, he made it back to his chair and sat down, trying to find the position again that wouldn’t pull at his half-healed wounds. Phck officer Person, really. The guy didn’t even look too guilty, Gavin thought as he watched the man for a while, sipping slowly at his mug.

Well, maybe he was too hard on him. Accidents happened. And truly, Gavin could have been more careful. It was only a broken arm and a flesh-wound anyways. Nothing that wouldn’t heal with time. Not that much of a problem, being assigned desk duty was far worse. Sitting on his ass all day, having to work on leftovers from the others… Gavin really didn’t like it. And when his arm started to itch under the cast, he was sure to go crazy any minute.

‘I demand to be let in.’ Gavin stopped trying to push his ruler underneath the cast for a moment, frowning. Was that… ‘Mr. Kamski, I’m sorry, I can’t-‘ ‘I am the CEO of Cyberlife, without me you wouldn’t even exist! I want to see my brother and speak with his boss! I sure as hell know his idiotic ass won’t do it, so I will!’ ‘Mr. Kamski, I still can’t-‘ But apparently Elijah didn’t care. Gavin saw him walk through the security gate as if he owned the place and march towards his desk.

Gavin groaned, while everyone’s attention was centred on Kamski. The richest man in the world by now certainly, famous and hard to reach, just stood in the bullpen, looking extremely out of place. Everyone waited for what would happen next, completely out of their area of expertise. ‘Eli, what the hell are you doing here?’, Gavin asked, really regretting ever telling him what had happened. ‘Ah, there you are! Gavin, I couldn’t just accept that! This clearly wasn’t an accident but a serious case of human negligence! You could have died!’ ‘But I haven’t and it’s fine, really. Don’t even have to worry about the costs, okay?’ He tried to sound calming and gentle, but Kamski was having none of that. ‘It’s not fine and I won’t stop until the person responsible for this is fired!’ ‘Eli, please-‘ ‘What are you saying?’

Oh shit. That was Person. No, goddamnit, don’t give him even more to work with! Gavin laid his head in his palm, exhaling deeply. Well, there went nothing. ‘Are you officer Person?’, Elijah asked. The other man nodded. ‘Alright then. How the fuck could you sleep when you were supposed to be backup?! Thanks to your incompetence my brother is hurt! He could have died do you know that?’ The silence afterwards was deafening. ‘Reed’s your brother?’ Officer Person likely voiced the one question everyone had been thinking after Elijah had shouted it through the precinct. Gavin sighed and took his mug to steady him. And here he thought they had wanted to keep that a secret. ‘Half-brother, if you want to know it in full detail. Doesn’t change the fact that you nearly killed him, and I will not rest until you are fired!’ Officer Person reeled back in protest, but was too speechless to say anything.

‘Eli, please, don’t make any more of a scene!’, Gavin hissed. ‘If you go full Karen-mode, Fowler will notice and-‘ ‘What the hell is going on here?’ The Captain’s deep voice interrupted him. Alright… By now Gavin was willing to let Elijah do his thing. There wasn’t any damage control to do anyway now.

‘I repeat: What the hell is going on and why is Elijah Kamski in my precinct?’ ‘I demand this person to be fired for his negligence that endangered his colleagues!’, Elijah answered. ‘And by what authority?’ ‘I am Gavin’s older brother and as much as he’s a confrontational asshole he can’t stand up to his boss!’ ‘And why- wait. Gavin’s your brother?’

During the conversation every other person’s head in the bullpen had bounced between Fowler and Kamski as if watching a tennis match. Now everyone looked at Gavin. ‘Yeah, what? I’m guilty as charged’, Gavin grumbled while gesticulating with his mug. ‘Now phck off, I didn’t tell him to do this, that’s on him!’ ‘I think we should take this to my office, then’, Fowler announced, and Gavin saw that self-righteous smile on Elijah’s face. If he had one weakness, then getting involved in things that weren’t his concern and having no respect for the people he talked to. But maybe in this case it was in Gavin’s favour, so he didn’t demand to be present as Elijah was about to talk to the manager.

Elijah vanished into Fowler’s office and the windows immediately frosted over. Gavin took the last sip of coffee from his mug and shrugged. He guessed he would soon have to get used to a new face on the force.

[ultrashadowkai]

Avatar: The Last Airbender - The Promise Part 1

We start out with a questionable idea rooted in good intentions: liberate the Fire Nation colonies in the Earth Kingdom after they’ve been there for who knows how long and people have definitely set up roots. This will definitely go over well

Huh, this takes place literally right where the show ended. Literally. They were all at Iroh’s tea shop to celebrate the announcement of the Harmony Restoration Movement

Zuko makes Aang promise to kill him should he ever start turning into his father. Aang. The pacifist so pacifist that he broke the game and found a third option to deal with said Fire Lord Ozai rather than decide to kill him. Zuko should’ve asked Katara instead.

ONE YEAR LATER time skip

Zuko is being assassinated and has already had 5 previous assassination attempts. He’s from a family with a long line of mental issues and this stress is not helping

Lady assassin with a spiked ball and chain. The daughter of the mayor of Yu Dao, the first Fire Nation colony. How did she get into Zuko’s room, a room they moved him to that isn’t the traditional room for the Fire Lord, let alone the Fire Nation Palace?

Mayor Morishita lays it into Zuko how forcibly segregating a mixed town – regardless of how it got mixed in the first place – can be a bad thing and do more harm than good. Straight up, this feels more like segregation than righting the wrongs of your forefathers. Oh wow, this this is so much more relatable to me now than it was when this comic first came out

Morishita triggered Zuko by comparing him to his father

Aang is touting the greatness of relocating the Fire Nation colonies with the motherland. They all loved it. All of them. Every single one. Totally.

Mayor Nishi makes the good point of those happy colonies being young enough that they would remember living in the Fire Nation itself and would see it as going home whereas older colonies have, as Morishita said, lived there for generations and set up roots. There are people living there that have never set foot on Fire Nation soil. Some have no traditional culture and no sense of being solely Fire Nation. Heck, does Aang remember when he posed as being from the colonies and enrolled in school? All of his oddities were just waved away as being from the colonies rather than infiltration and so on. They’d be fish out of water and they would probably hate it.

I understand Aang wanting to reconnect with his past and his history because he’s from 100 years ago but not everyone cares so deeply about their roots that they’ll adopt those cultural traditions just because they can track their lineage all the way back

And now Zuko has pulled a 180 on the Harmony Restoration Movement. Either because he feels his power as Fire Lord being questioned or because he genuinely sees Morishita’s point. Either way, this comic is clearly going to tackle two extremes and end up coming to a compromise that allows for Republic City. Yu Dao is Republic City.

The Beifong Metalbending Acadmey.  How’d Toph become a cop if she’s got a metal bending school?

3 students: some loud little one, some “we’re doomed!” big guy, and an emo. Pretty one note, it’s fine. All their parents live in Yu Dao which is near by. Now Toph is getting involved

Did Toph earthbend up onto Appa’s back mid-flight when she can’t “see” anything not on the ground? Did she judge by Appa’s roar?

They do all look older

I could’ve sworn we already went over the whole Roku regrets not dealing with Sozin. Why is Aang surprised, especially since when Roku didn’t give him the affirming answer of “Don’t kill Ozai” he went to other Avatars and got the same result

The Freedom Fighters are here too. It makes sense that they’d want the Fire Nation completely out of the Earth Kingdom

Already Aang and Katara use pet names. It’s kinda weird actually – them dating, referring to each other as boyfriend/girlfriend and “sweetie”. I can imagine their adult selves doing this but here it just feels a little weird and jarring. I’m blaming that on the time skip. I haven’t had the time to acclimate.

Zuko went the “my people” route. Which is not quite so simple either. Do all the people of Yu Dao and similar colonies see themselves as Fire Nation? What about the Earthbenders?

Yu Dao has been here for 100 years. It’s probably older than Aang.

Two cultures working together bringing together their respective knowledge to create something new or refine something, in this case metalwork. Yu Dao doesn’t look like one of the richest cities in the world tough. Maybe because I’m comparing it to Earth Kingdom capitals, which are centers of government and seats of power.

How has interracial marriages not have come up yet? I’m actually kind of surprised it’s never come up, especially with the Fire Nation having occupied Earth Kingdom territory for generations. I know that the Gaang more or less kept to themselves and to the sky when travelling the Earth Kingdom and were coming more from the north or the south than the west where the Fire Nation would have settled these colonies. I wonder if earthbenders would have even been allowed in the military?

Imagine the Gaang either fighting at Fire Nation soldier only to start dodging rocks or they come across a Fire Nation colony, aim to liberate it, and find that it’s not that simple because there are all these earthbenders who declare themselves Fire Nation citizens.

I’m with Zuko. Aang sounds like a separatist

I like that Kori wears both red and green making it clear that she’s both Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom

Hey, Avatar world racism. “Water tribe savage” “ash-makers” and one of those was towards Sokka who was just trying to help

Politics during war is different than politics during peacetimes (or just not war times). The politics during war are often quicker and result in more fighting than sitting around talking. Everyone is so used to physically fighting for what they want that the idea of sitting and waiting to talk it out is unsatisfactory. Nothing’s happening fast enough, so they’ll just do it themselves

Zuko and Mai’s relationship isn’t as without problems as Aang and Katara’s. Zuko has a problem keeping things to himself, acting somewhat impulsively, and not relying on others (in this case Mai, his girlfriend) to help him. Like, he didn’t talk to Mai about this; he just went down to Yu Dao. He didn’t even think to bring this up with Aang – to write a letter or something – before he just went and did it.

The Kyoshi Warriors are here!

 Because he won’t lean on anyone or let himself be seen as weak or vulnerable and won’t let anyone inside his head, he’s gone to Ozai for advice over anyone else he could have possibly gone to, before going to Mai, daughter of a governor and (possible) graduate of a finishing school for high society Fire Nation girls, the same one the princess to the nation went to. I think she’d be able to give some advice to chew on over Ozai.