#no one who is a billionaire is doing enough for the working class sorry

[pinktwingirl]

And yet she’s still done more damage to the environment over the last couple of months than that guy will ever do in his entire life. It’s unbelievable how easily people will believe someone’s a “good” billionaire just because they claim to care about social issues. There is no such thing as an ethical billionaire, and EVERY private jet user needs to be held accountable for the irreparable damage they are causing to our planet. Taylor Swift marketing herself as a “feminist activist” and triggering a couple of conservatives on Fox News does not make her an exception to that.

[runawaymarbles]

at this point i am simply uninterested in any opinion on a hot-button political topic that treats human beings as a mass of meaningless hypotheticals

[thelostdreamsthings]

"If voting changed anything, they'd make it illegal."

🇺🇸JEFFREY SACHS says ⬇️

"Who elected Trump? Billionaires.

Who was opposing Trump with Harris? Billionaires.

When you look at our politics—'We the People'—we are like spectators at a sport.

Who are the billionaires? Well, it's that list on one side and that list on the other.

We sit back—who's going to win? I don't know, but it's going to be the billionaires.

So what do the billionaires backing Trump want? Tax cuts.

What did the billionaires backing Harris want? Tax cuts.

What is the election going to produce? Tax cuts.

Big surprise. Is it a drama? Of course it's not a drama.

Our Congress is corrupt. Our political system is corrupt. It's run by the big boys, not by the little people, so we're going to have more tax cuts.

Here comes Trump, elected by a disgruntled voting population—the working class. This is his core.

And he's telling the working class, 'You've been cheated. I'm going to support you.'

And what's he going to do? He's going to give tax cuts to the richest people in the world.

You know, ten people now—TEN PEOPLE—have a net worth of $2 trillion.

I'm sorry, we can't even imagine what this means.

The days after Trump was elected, their net worth increased by $100 billion—in days.

Because people who have money know, 'Oh, this is a bonanza for the billionaires.'

By the way, if Harris had won, it probably would have gone up the same way—because it's billionaires on both sides.

So this deficit is going to rise; it's not going to fall.

Now Trump has a very particular, clever electoral strategy.

He says to the voters, 'The billionaires are your friends. That's not the problem. Your enemy is the immigrant and your enemy is China. I'm going to go after your enemies, not your friends, the billionaires.'

So what Trump says is, 'I'm going to raise tariffs on the Chinese, I'm going to kick out the immigrants, and you're going to live the American dream.'

And it's not going to happen.

And sure enough, within the next few years, the Trump administration will be a failure—widening income inequalities, big unhappiness, larger budget deficits, frictions with China, a lot of lawsuits in the United States, and people trying to stay in the U.S. who are threatened with deportation.

It's not going to be a happy period.

And this, unfortunately, comes from the fact that when you have two parties—billionaires backing this one and billionaires backing that one—someone gets left out.

And that's the people."

How rich people fukkk over Americans

This is a concept that meets a lot of resistance in the US, where Americans are taught to worship money.

Thus, ordinary people - especially conservatives - admire rich people regardless of how the wealth is acquired.

And the rich people are good at diversion — they blame the government, China, immigrants etc.

[xagave]

pleasepleaseplease recommend some danphan fics!!

Sorry these are on ff.net I was into danphan before AO3 was really A Thing. Invisobang also just completed and a whole wack of new fics are also now out for your enjoyment so I suggest taking a look there too Lab Rat - Danny (as Phantom) is captured by his parents and vivisected in the lab. THE MOST iconic dp fic from this era of fandom and also the first dp fic I ever read which single-handedly got me into the fandom. I also recommend anything else by this author[sequel]

Pits - Danny is captured by Walker and thrown into the Pits to fight for his life. HANDS DOWN my all time favorite dp fic. I drew a bunch of fanart for it and never showed the author LMAO [sequel]

In The Way - A twisted tale of a summer spent all alone

Wondering - Danny's been captured and tortured by his parents, but he refuses to say a word until his psychiatrist starts connecting the dots. Can he risk keeping it a secret any longer?

Dreams of Light - A cute box ghost fic with a fun twist at the end

Phantom's Sketchbook - Mr. Lancer finds himself in an unparalleled situation, he has access to something which can give him incredible insight into the personal workings of Amity Park's local ghost teen hero, Danny Phantom

Masks - Lancer has had enough of his most enigmatic, frustrating student Daniel Fenton and forces him to stay in detention with him until Danny tells him The Truth. A story examining Danny's relationship with the human race. Another BIG FAVE of mine [sequel]

Darkness - Part 1 of Illuminations saga. [part 2][part 3][part 4] Maddie and Phantom are trapped in the dark and must work together to avoid dying. I don't remember much about this but I do remember it being super creepy and I bulldozed my way through all 4 parts so it must have been good lol

I'm Still Here - Danny's been locked away in a forgotten thermos, buried in the backyard for 70 years. When he's finally released, happy isn't the word he'd use to describe his new life

Real Life - A very creepy take on ghosts and the events of the show, where they're more inhuman, feral, and scary. I don't remember much about this but it's unfinished

Lopeholt - Valerie must survived the night in the third scariest place on earth. **VERY** creepy, I remember reading this in the dark and it gave me nightmares. Another top fave. I def recommend reading anything else by this author

Running to the Enemy's Arms - Danny runs away and ends up on the doorstep of the person who's dead last on his list of favorite people - Vlad. Danny/Vlad father son relationship. A fun and interesting view of what Danny's life would be like had he been the son Vlad always wanted. Incomplete but also another BIG FAVE of mine. Tolerate the first 1-2 chapters and the rest is golden

Checkmate - Vlad forces Danny to leave everything behind in order to save Jazz's life. But just when the billionaire believes to have won his chess game against his young rival, Danny makes a single unexpected move.

A Secret Uncovered - Danny's transformation is caught on tape and now the whole town knows who he is Photoshop - Dash and Kwan find an old class picture and start having a little too much fun on Photoshop. Will someone's secret be revealed?

Chained - It starts with a fire at the Guys in White headquarters, where a vengeful Valerie stumbles across an imprisoned Danny Phantom. It starts with injustice. But what happens when justice and revenge are confused for one another? Where does a hero end, and a villain begin?

Phantom of Truth - Locked away in a secret government lab with Phantom as her subject, nothing stands between Maddie and the truth… except, perhaps, herself [Sequel]

The Soul Sepulchre - Something foul is stirring in Amity Park and it all starts in the bowels of Amity Park's Museum of Natural History

Moral Code - Moral code says to never kill or capture a specimen that you did not weaken yourself. Maddie finds Danny Phantom wounded late at night after a hard battle. After she helps him, she finds there is more to him than she ever thought possible. Mother/son bonding

Connections - Maddie knows that the Booo-merang has keyed into Danny, for whatever reason, so what's she to think when she sees it collide with Phantom? [Sequel]

Isolated - It's just a wish that's been granted with the wrong twist, but for Danny, it's a nightmare that's become reality. He's stuck as Phantom, his family's hunting him, and everyone who can help him is gone

Little Earthquakes - They say that a man is defined by what he does when he thinks nobody's looking. Does the same hold true for ghosts?

Tortured Truth - Danny's parents discover that the ghost boy is half human. Now that they've captured Danny, will he submit to torture and reveal himself, or is the revelation just the beginning of their problems? [Sequel]

Estrelas - AU. Sam's attention is captured by a lonely ghost haunting her grandmother's attic…and discovering his secrets will take everything she has.

Criteria of Life - Every living thing must follow the Laws of Life; however, Maddie wonders if Phantom can somehow follow these laws as well. The fact that he is a ghost is putting a knick in her plans, but what if Phantom can follow the Laws of Life?

[aphrodieties]

https://www.tumblr.com/aphrodieties/733813072220864512/hi-sorry-to-bother-you-but-im-having-some

Hi sweetie! I’m the anon from the question I linked above. Thank you so much for your answer! Please don’t be sorry for replying late, it should be me who appreciate your time and patience!

I’m sorry I didn’t get back earlier, I was so overwhelmed with the school and application stuff, and I also wanted to really understand and experience what you’ve said in that post.

I kinda get it now. I only need to fulfill myself with the feeling of academic success, and that’s all. I tried to fully live in imagination but I kinda cannot get over the need to revise the transcript physically. I’m afraid this transcript will follow me forever physically. Ever since I got my transcript, I refused to believe it’s actually happening to me, because it’s really terrifying, I may end up getting kicked out of school or no graduate school would accept me…I even haven’t told my parents about the grade thing, so whenever they asked me for the transcript I couldn’t give them, but I can’t fool them forever, that’s why I was so desperately to change my transcript physically.

I’m sorry if this sounds like trauma dumping. I didn’t intend to be this negative at the beginning, I got more and more anxious when I’m writing this. Please ignore me if you find it too negative sweetie, you don’t have the responsibility to answer this!

You are human and you have emotions—it’s completely fine to feel afraid. I get where you're coming from, and you're not trauma-dumping either. There are a few things that you must know; you are completely right to refuse to believe what's happening to you. You’ve got the hardest part down! Do not accept that which you do not want, and you do not want a terrible transcript so you're not gonna accept this one as written in stone. The next steps would be as follows; 3D indifference, taking care of business, and maintaining the state of the wish fulfilled.

I have said this in a previous ask and I feel a bit lazy about recycling responses but I cannot stress this enough; The 3D is not sentient. It has no meaning other than the meaning that you attach to it. Think about the meaning that you're currently attaching to the 3D right now—the meaning that you're attaching to this transcript, “This transcript will follow me forever physically,�� “They’ll kick me out of school,” “No graduate school is going to accept me because of my transcript,” these are the meanings that you're currently attaching to the 3D. @etherealkissed88 has an amazing guide about practicing indifference. I've linked it here and I recommend that you read it.

I have mentioned this before too but you don't need to neglect the 3D. Tending to the 3D is not a betrayal of the Law of Assumption, and as long as you aren't attaching any meaning to what you do then you'll be fine. For example; I’m manifesting that I’m a billionaire, and I currently work a minimum-wage job, and I’m working-class. I still work long shifts, and I still pay my bills though I'm manifesting that I'm a billionaire. Why? Because it means nothing. Keeping my bills paid and working isn't a contradiction as long as that's all it is to me. If I attached any further meaning to working long shifts and paying my bills such as, "See! You're not a billionaire,” “You’re still struggling to make ends meet so you're not a billionaire,” etc…, then that would be a betrayal of my imagination and the Law Of Assumption—it would be contradictory to my state too! So, handle your business and do whatever you need to do to take care of the situation with your parents and transcript but don't attach any meaning to it.

The last thing I'm gonna say is—persist, continue to persist in the state of the wish-fulfilled. Persistence pays off, and maintaining the wish-fulfilled pays off. The 3D will reflect as long as you continue to do these things. Please, continue to maintain the wish-fulfilled.

[str1v1ng4z3r0]

Thoughts of the day:

I can do this, just need to get back on it!! 💪🏼

Omg I’m sooo tired 😭

Wait, why are we understaffed again?! Oh no, this is gonna be an awful day… 😩

I’m so hungry… 😖

Oh fvck, how am I gonna get out of eating lunch with the pupils?!

Oh yay, stuck in a telephone meeting with a parent during lunch time, how fortunate!!

Riiiiight… that only helps if you don’t eat that stupid lunch alone afterwards… you dumb a$$ 😒🤦🏻‍♀️

Well, I’m gonna have to stick to my already pre measured snacks throughout the rest of the day.

Wow… how is it even possible to do this job without going crazy?! They all have a million different needs and everyone needs help all the flipping time. Istg if I got a penny for evergtime someone mentions my name in a day… I’d be a billionaire before lunch 🙃

FINALLY!! It’s 2pm and all my classes are done!! Let’s plan some lessons! But oh I’m so tired… please let me sleep some first. I don’t have time?? Oh right, there is no time for my own needs, oops I forgot, sorry, my bad! 🫣

Just found out both my coworkers have doctors appointments tomorrow so I’m left all alone with all 34 pupils… great! Now I have to replan all my classes and figure out what I do if my pupil with anxiety freaks out or another pupil decides to run away as usual (rn we have 3 runners and 2 with anxiety)… but never mind me I’ll just here to solve it all… brb, just buying myself a casket 🤯

It’s 5.20pm… if I don’t leave now I’ll be late for yoga class. RUN!! Oh wait, there’s candy??!! I’m just gonna have one (has like 20??!!) 😰

Why did I eat that???!!!! You’re SO stupid!! And gross!! And f4t!!!! And disgust1ng!!! Ewww…!

(5min later, found more snacks in my car… apparently I hadn’t understood the point of previous thought??!!) YOU SUCK!!! You suck you suck you suck!! So worthl3ss!!! 🤬

Finally at yoga class! Namaste 🙏🏼 wait… why can’t I focus? Stop thinking about work!! You’re here for yourself!!

Two hours later: Finally relaxed!! Tg for yoga 😮‍💨

Oh wait… I’m relaxed… AND… focused!! But focused on being… what? What am I? 💥 BOOM!! 💥 Suddenly I’m HYPER 😓

And apparently my adhd brain combines hyper with *dum dum dum* IMPULSIVENESS!!! Let’s go buy TWO(?!?!) snacks!!!

I shouldn’t have eaten that… I hate myself.

Wow, I’m soooo hyper now… how th am I gonna sleep? It’s 11.32, I’m never gonna get enough sleep 😫😭🤯

I need something crispy!! (Eats something crispy)

I need something sour!! (Has something sour)

I need something crispy again!! (Has something crispy again)

I need to watch tv!! (Streams something very exciting, gets even more hyper but also somehow tired because my sleeping meds have finally started to kick in).

Final thought; maybe I should write down my thoughts and share them on tumblr because… well because why not?!?!

Ooooh final final though; who the HELL is gonna care??!! No one’s even gonna bother reading this. You’re only gonna read it yourself and dwell in your own misery.

Ooooh last one: did you ever hear Misery business by Paramore??! I LOVE that song so bad!

Okay byyyyyye <3

[cannibalisticdespair]

kodaka

🔥

Frankly? Don't hate him like much as the rest of the fandom seems to. Sure, he's imperfect. He's human. But like... I'm one of the only people who's sat down and done the math to figure out that Hope's Peak is a Unit 731 + Japan being in the Axis Powers reference. We have three numbered classes, one from one year and two from the other. The numbers are in order, and the extra class is marked with a B. Class 78, Class 77 and Class 77b. Which means class numbers are in order of since the school was founded and additional classes in one year do not increase the number.

Which means we can MATH! Class 78 is admitted in 2010, so we just get a simple subtraction problem out of this. 1932! Hope's Peak was founded in 1932 to foster and promote people who are naturally superior to everyone else and create the perfect human who is over all others. The Ubermensch. In 1932. Using fucked up evil science. In Imperial Japan. And they've always been government-backed for this reason. He stealthed that past all the censors. Japan really doesn't like to talk about shit like Unit 731 and he directly made a plot which is "Yeah, the Japanese government was doing evil eugenics science with human experimentation during World War 2 and never stopped, it's directly tied to the culture of talent and superiority in Japan, and that's evil." Like, literally, "our culture never actually moved on from the atrocities and the government is still fuckin evil". That's the core of Danganronpa!

And then, the social media landscape makes people go "I don't like this character as a person" = "This is a bad character", which is fucking stupid moron behavior. Wheatley ass motherfuckers. Haiji Towa. Oh, you mean to tell me that the billionaires funded both sides of the war and were complicit in genocide in order to keep and amass power, and are also child molesters? Wow, where have I fucking heard that before?! Like literally, "the world ended not just because of Junko, but because the predatory rich and powerful would rather commit genocide than lose power and wealth". Go fucking off!

Are there other things that are problematic? Sure. But like... the main one people get mad about is from 2010. I don't know how to say this without ripping off the bandaid. 1996 was 14 years before 2010. 2010 was 14 years ago. Sometimes, shit ages poorly. It was 14 years ago. You're judging 1996 writing by 2010 standards and expecting it to be to 2024 standards. I'm sorry, but that's unreasonable.

And also? I have some friends who know Japanese. Y'all ain't blaming NIS America enough. Japanese gendered pronouns are a bit different from English ones, and you know what nobody does in Japanese? Use masculine terms for Chihiro. NIS America are fucking hacks, y'all. "Genocide Jill" anyone? Gonta?! Yeah, the whole caveman speak? NIS AMERICA, THEY DID THAT. Also, they censored Komaeda's aborted love confession in SDR2. In the Japanese, that whole "I am truly in love with the hope that sleeps inside you"? Yeah he explicitly starts a love confession, USING FUCKING AISHITERU LIKE A FUCKIN MADMAN, and then chickens out at the last second from anxiety. Here's a literally decade old post translating it. Did I mention how goddamn old these games are? NIS. FUCKING. AMERICA. I could go on about hating them, but I think that if everyone knew they pulled that censoring gayness shit, y'all would start hunting them for sport by default.

As for V3... listen, Japan didn't even fucking know about the antis until a year ago. People tying it to that are just centering their own culture. What you actually have to do is know about Kamaitachi no Yoru, one of the popularizing works of the entire Visual Novel genre. In 1994. Well, technically you need to know about the sequel and some rerelease stuff.

See, the first game is a standard murder mystery VN. Nothing too remarkable there. The second game? The actors who played the characters in the based-on-a-true-story (in-universe) work of fiction of the previous game are invited to an island and events heavily mirroring the plot of the original murder mystery happen. Did I mention Chunsoft published this? Later they'd merge with the company Spike, forming Spike Chunsoft. Hmmmmmm.

Oh, but that's not what you need to know. WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW IS THE EASTER EGG WEIRD SHIT IN KnY2 YOU GET FOR 100% COMPLETION! YEAH, IT'S THAT SORT OF SHIT! What is it? A lot of weird weird shit, but there's one really really really important part.

The Easter Egg takes the form of a secret message placed in the game by the writer of the games. It states that the franchise contains secret brainwashing programs to make people worship and venerate Chunsoft so that Chunsoft can take over the world But wait, there's more! It also claims, get this, that the fictional characters are actually somehow alive and suffering through the entire plot of the games, which is needed to make this brainwashing program, and the murder mystery games are created by just inflicting the plot on these living fictional characters.

Team Danganronpa is literally Spike Chunsoft. Danganronpa V3 is a sequel to a 100% completion easter egg from a different franchise that was extremely massive in the 90s and early 2000s in Japan and completely unknown in the west. YEAH. What. The. Fuck. It has nothing to do with fanpol, it has to do with a mindfuck horror story. Oh, and fun fact: that easter egg? Also the first known instance of a horror story involving the fictional characters coming out of the horrifying cursed video game and killing a person irl. V3 is a sequel to the very first gaming creepypasta, which was written and included in the very game it is about. Isn't that fucking insane?!

Oh, and the blue silhouettes from UDG and DR3 also come from KnY. And the boat scene at the end of DR3 is a reference to KnY2. Like, they end the same way. And of course, the brainwashing program stuff should sound familiar.

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

I dont think anyone else has noticed this tho im sure you have (namely the people acting like clowns in the titanic tag, not you) but the 19yr old did not want to go on that sub, he was terrified and only did it to make his dad happy..idk.. it is very tragic and upsetting and even more so that people seem to ignore this and keep going on their weird jokes about the entire thing, saying how they all wanted to go when no, the 19yr old did not want to at all. I think going down was totally uncalled for, I think stock rush got four people killed and he is terrible for that and deserved what happened to him, i think it is sick he turned a mass grave site into a tourist attraction for bored rich people..but I think people just heard the word rich for these other four and just right away assumed they deserved to die when idk...I did some reading on each of them and they, aside from the obvious ick of being rich, seemed like decent people who made a very very poor choice and trusted the wrong person which led to them dying. the paul guy was (correct me if im wrong) a well respected titanic researcher for over 30yrs, the british man was trying to make flying more sustainable for the planet and such (again correct me if wrong) and the dad and son seemed to do a lot of charity work and were overall kind people..but yeah they seemed like far better people then most celebs people love so the entire thing rubs me wrongly, two things can coexist, the entire thing was wrong and not ok and stock was sick for what he did and his death was justified, but I also have a hard time believing the other four truly deserved to die (Sorry this is random just wanted to hear your thoughts!) :)

ive written the reply to this about five times now because i also struggle with my feelings based around what happened.

on one hand, i do genuinely feel for them, especially suleman dawood who was a 19-year-old kid. i think youd have to lack a heart to not feel for him.

on the other, i fully understand where people are coming from when they dont give a shit about them. two of them were billionaires and the other two were multi-millionaires. i come from a working class background and a single-parent family so it is difficult to feel bad for someone with that much money dying because of a decision they made.

but that doesnt mean i dont feel bad for them, because i do. five human beings died and i just naturally feel for them even though my conscious brain struggles to keep up with that emotion.

and as youve said, some of them seemed to genuinely do good things.

sulemans father shahzada funded mental healthcare for pakistani citizens during covid-19 and was looking into renewable energy.

paul-henri nargeolet had been involved in underwater searches for rms carpathia as well as a flight recorded from a plane that crashed though both were unsuccessful. hed also found a roman wreck as well as an aircraft that had crashed in 1979, giving some closure to the families of those who had perished. he has done a lot of important research on the titanic.

iirc hamish hardings company action aviation has helped the indian government and a namibian cheetah conservation company to reintroduce cheetahs to india, which is objectively a very good thing.

its difficult to parse through how you feel about the disaster because people are messy, and they do both good and bad things.

i dont think i know enough about any of the four adults aboard to say whether the good theyve done outweighed the bad, and whether other people even care about that when it comes to their feelings about this.

the one i know for sure that i dont feel bad for is stockton rush because this was entirely his fault.

im not gonna get into the weeds as to why exactly titan was badly designed, but to save money and for "simplicity", he employed some experimental techniques like the use of carbon fibre and the pressure pod (i hope i have the right word here) being cylindrical. he ignored regulations and laws, he used expire carbon fibre, and he turned a mass gravesite into a tourist spot.

and i hate him even more for how he designed oceangate. the way they work is that each dive would technically be research-based, but to fund it (even though rush is a multi-millionaire), they would allow people to buy tickets to come along. and i hate this more than if it was just tourism because the way hes tied them together has made it harder to criticise the dives because they have done important research.

i definitely he misled people because if you dont know about this sort of vessel, youre likely to defer to someone who helped to develop it.

however, i would err on the side of both harding and nargeolet knowing how unsafe it was. nargeolet had done countless dives just like it and he was in this world where people were saying this isnt safe. we also know that harding knew because his friend victor vescovo, who found the deepest shipwreck in the world (the samuel b roberts), told him that it was unsafe, but harding went anyway.

ive kinda just been rambling in my reply because i do feel torn about it. people died and i struggle not to feel for them, even if my logical brain is arguing with that. i think many people struggle to believe anyone deserves to die because were humans and we are meant to care about each other. its how we survived as a species for so long. but there are people in this world where if they died, the world would objectively be a better place.

at the end of the day, im not the authority on how anyone feels about this and i dont begrudge anyone for their feelings. the world is not black and white, and so much exists in the morally grey area.

youre entitled to feel however you do, anon. dont let others make you feel bad about it.

[chelleztjs18]

This One Is Mine Pt. 1 (N.R)

Billionaire Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: As a billionaire and a successful business woman, Natasha has everything and lives her lavish life with her best friends. What will happen if Natasha wants you but Wanda gets in between?

Warning: Dark fic, 18+, bunch of sexual tensions, swearing words, drug use and alcohol consumptions. (Let me know if I miss anything)

A/N: Hello! I was gonna post this tomorrow as in the schedule but I'll be kinda busy tomorrow. So, why not post it a day early, right? Natasha and her friends wears the clothes that was shown in the cover except Wanda, she wears a dress with the same color. You don't have to listen to the songs in the fic while reading it but if you do, I hope it will make your reading experience more enjoyable. Happy reading! Here is the playlist for this series:

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

The moon shines up high, a cold breeze passes your legs that are fully exposed. The warmth of your short skirt only covers down to a little above your knee. If it’s not because your best friends Kate and MJ insist for you to come, you are probably home by now but you are in line with them to get into this one famous fancy night club called “Black Widow'' instead. You are not gonna lie, it is one of your favorite clubs to go to. You love the drinks, great dj not to mention the people who come here always look good. It’s not a secret that there are a lot of upper class people who love to party here. The club is always packed every time you come.

“I can’t believe that you didn’t even change your clothes before you came here. You looked like someone just came here straight from work.” Kate lets out her comment.

“Uh maybe because I came STRAIGHT from work, Kate. I could’ve gone home first to change my clothes if you didn’t text me every five minutes to hurry up.” You defend yourself with your reason. “Also, what’s wrong with the button up blouse and my mini skirt? I think it’s not that bad.” You added.

“I know. I know. I’m just excited. We are here to celebrate you. It’s your night. It would be more fun and more friends would come if you didn’t ask to keep it low-key.” Kate rolls her eyes playfully yet letting out her disappointment.

“Well, it’s okay. I don’t want it to make a big deal about it. I just want to celebrate it with you two. You two are my best friends and that’s enough for me.” You explain with a fake pout but genuinely meant every word.

“Awww, y/n, that’s really sweet. Don’t worry about what Kate just said. You look pretty and we understand. Thank you for doing this with us.” M.J responds in awe as she gives you a little hug and smiles at you and Kate.

“Yes, I’m glad I’m part of tonight’s fun. We love you. You know that?” The brown haired woman smiles and squeezes in another hug.

“Of course.” You answer as you check the time on your watch.

The night gets colder and the line is getting longer. The three of you have a great laugh and talk while waiting in line. The security lets some people in every time there are some people leaving the club.

The three of you are getting closer to your turn to get in and you get excited, especially Kate. She loves the place more than you do, hence the destination choice she made for the girls night out with you and M.J.

As soon as the security almost opens the way to let somes group of people ahead of you, someone talks to him through the COMM in his ears, and everything changes. He stops himself from letting people in.

“Sorry folks. VIP first.” He explains as he turns his back and focuses on who is coming. You hear overlapped voices of disappointment from the others in line including Kate’s and MJ’s.

“This is so unfair. How much longer we gotta wait. I wonder who’s coming. Oh maybe a celebrity? Look at those paparazzi.” MJ lets out her impatience followed by her wandering thoughts. “Or probably just another rich person, MJ. You know this place, always full of them..” You calmly respond as you playfully slap her arm with the back of your hand and patch a smirk at her.

Not too long after that, a shiny black limousine pulled up and parked in front of the club. The street light shines and reflects on some parts of the car. The windows are all dark as if it meant to avoid any attention to whoever is inside while on the road.

People start talking and wondering who it is gonna be. All eyes are on the limo as if it doesn’t matter for them anymore if they get into the club or not.

The paparazzi are all ready to snap pictures just like an army who are ready for what’s coming  in front of them. They all know who’s in the luxury moving box of steel.

All the commotions really drag your attention and your gaze to the center of it. You hear people asking each other “Oh my God, who is it?” or “I heard that she’s coming tonight. It’s her birthday today.” and “Do you think she’s coming with the others? I really want to see all of them.”

With all those overlapping comments, your mind gets so curious. You look at the limo without even blinking. Who is she? Who is this woman they were talking about?

The door finally opens, you see a woman coming out of the limo. A super attractive red-haired woman wears bright red suits and pants with a black lapel that blends in perfectly with her loose satin shirt under it. All of those paired beautifully with her black clutch. Her black and silver necklace cooperates with her same color high heels to highlight her black and red vibes.

You are so intrigued by her. You don't know why your mind imagines your fingers raking through her short red hair, caressing it. You are stunned by her look until you hear Kate’s voice.

“OMG! That’s Natasha Romanoff! Damn, she looks so good! I hope her sister Yelena will be here too. I have a huge crush on her.” Kate comments in amazement.

“Natasha who? Her sister?” You look at Kate with furrowed eyebrows as you ask confusedly. “Seriously? You don’t know who Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belova are? Okay, I’ll tell you more after this.” Kate’s hand squeezes your hand excitedly as she looks surprised but she gets distracted with more people who get out of the limo. You look at Vision offering his hand to help his wife, Wanda, to come out. Her twin brother, Pietro comes out next followed by Tony Stark.

“Oh wow, The Maximoff twins are here too with Vision and Tony stark. So the whole gang's here.” MJ’s comment leads your gaze to bounce between the rest of them.

You know The Maximoff twins. Who doesn’t? They are the Sokovian siblings who inherit their parents’ fortune of Maximoff Co. but their business skill multiplies it. Not just that, people know them from their lavish lifestyle.

Vision, who used to be the British Royal family doctor and now the owner of many big hospitals in big states. He holds Wanda's hand as they slowly walk behind Natasha. You always adore them. To you, they are that power couple. It’s no secret that they have an open marriage and paparazzi often snap pictures of them with who they call “partner in fun”. In every snap, they are with a different person. Wanda and Vision always wear matching clothes, similar themes or at least whatever colors that compliments each other.

Of course, the brunette Wanda looks so alluring yet sophisticated. Her long sleeve burgundy red somewhat short dress with a slit exposing her thigh with a very low cut perfectly highlighted her cleavage. The dress wrapped her heavenly body perfectly. Wanda’s burgundy dress matches ideally with Vision’s shades of brown jacket and pants over his cream turtleneck.

Her brother Pietro, the ladies man,wears his black suit, spreading his charm. Clearly busy giving teaseful wink or smirks. Some girls are even lucky enough to get their hand kissed by him. From their excited reaction, you guess that they probably won’t wash their hands for a few days.

Then there is Tony Stark, the only heirs of Stark’s family wealth and company. It’s not a surprise to you that Tony’s fashion is a little more different than the others. This time he wore blue suits with black tie and pants. His gray shirts peeping out from under his jacket suit. Being eccentric he is, of course he wears different style athletic blue and black shoes and never forgets his glasses. In his defense, he once said in an interview that always wears sunglasses because of the camera flashes. But seeing he’s wearing the light blue shades right now that probably can’t really block the brightness of the flashes, it’s obviously only for fashion purposes instead. He gives a kiss on the cheek of one of the ladies who asks for a selfie with him shortly before he follows his friends into the club.

To your surprise, you caught Natasha and Wanda glance at you as they walked past in front of the line. Natasha’s glance makes your stomach somersault, instantly making your heart beat faster. Meanwhile, Wanda’s glance at you from head to toe and smirks make you feel like you are a prey, voluntarily.

“Wow, they all look so cool.” MJ doesn’t take her eyes off them until Nat and the rest get into the club. “Yeah but too bad, Yelena is not here.” Kate sighs in disappointment.

“Okay, I know the rest of them but who are Natasha and Yelena?” You ask curiously.

“She is a famous business woman. She is super rich, the CEO of Romanoff Inc. Her company is really big and goes international. She runs it with her sister Yelena. You know the twins and Tony Stark but you don’t know her? They are all best friends and hang out together. Their lifestyle is everybody’s dream.” Kate answers you in rambling.

“Well, Kate, you know me. I don’t really keep up with this whole famous people thing in social media. Work gets me really busy.” You respond to her rambling.

“That’s why you need this night! To have fun. Okay?” MJ tries to cheer you up. “Yeah, we will, After we finally get in.” You let out a sarcastic joke and made your best friends giggle.

_____

As soon as Natasha takes a seat on her VIP couch, she takes a sip of her favorite cocktails.Tell Me When To Go by E-40 plays loud in the club. Her eyes are analyzing her club tonight. She is happy with the new manager’s work. She loves how packed the club is, her eyes subconsciously look for you and her mind wonders if you are already inside or not.

“Happy birthday, darling.” Wanda gives a small kiss to both of Nat’s cheeks as she hands the redhead an envelope before she sits on Nat’s left side. Vision takes his spot next to his wife while Tony slouches next to Nat and Pietro sits side by side with his brother in law on the comfy large black and red U shaped couch. They always sit in the VIP spot that’s always reserved only for them. It has the best view of the club. They love it because practically they can see almost every spot in the club but still a little further from public and have some more privacy. Two dancing poles in front of each end of the couch.

The black table is perfectly set up like usual with bottles of expensive alcohol, ice buckets, snacks or everything they need and even their high end custom made bongs complete with their weed stash. Their favorite drinks and cocktails have been made prior to their arrival. Some bodyguards take a stand not too far from them. Pietro lit up his cigar right away. His eyes observe the surroundings. Excited with the crowd, especially the ladies. He blows out some smoke then takes a sip of his drinks.

“What’s this?” Nat takes the black envelopes as she asks and her green eyes meet with Wanda’s. “It’s your birthday gift from me, Vision and Pietro. Open it.” The brunette answers.

Nat quickly opens it and pulls a photo out of it. “A picture of a yacht?” She tilts her head in confusion.

“YOUR yacht. You sold yours a while ago and you have been too busy to get a new yacht. So we got you one.” Wanda answered excitedly. “Oh wow, thanks Wanda. Thank you boys.” Nat’s gaze flicks from Wanda, Vision then to Pietro as she shows them her gratitude.

“You are very welcomed, Nat. They berthed it next to ours right now. We didn't want to ruin the surprise for you if they brought it to your spot.” Vision explains then proceeds to light up the weed on the bong and inhale the smoke of it.

“You are welcomed, sestra! I picked the bigger size, so you can have a bigger party. Just don’t forget to invite us when you have a party.” Pietro answered jokingly. Wanda and Vision laugh at his jokes.

“Don’t worry, I won’t forget, Piet.” Nat smiles and shakes her head to his antics. “And now, it’s my turn. Happy birthday, Romanoff.” Tony hands her a small red box then smokes a weed joint on his other hand.

Nat opens it and finds a key in it. “This is the key to..?” She asks in a playful way. “Well, it’s just a small gift. Do you remember the winery you like in Sonoma? Not too far from it, I saw this nice property with a nice Spanish style house. It would be a nice getaway for you. I added a little touch. You know, a shooting range, and a spacious gym since you and your family love shooting guns and martial arts. Plus extra space for some of your precious car collections.” Tony casually describes his so-called small birthday gift.

“Oh wow, thank you Tony. All of you gave me these huge gifts. Now, I’m gonna have to give you better gifts on your birthdays.” Nat lets out her joke. The bass from the speakers starts to pound the air as the DJ plays Flip The Switch by Valentino Khan, Chris Lorenzo in line.

“Oh, you know what I like, Nat. If you find any interesting women, share them with me. Or let us have them after you, right, Vis?” Wanda answers her best friend in a teasing way and Vision agrees with an excited “Uh-huh.” in his nods then kisses Wanda’s cheeks.

“Well, just like Pietro said, just don’t forget to invite us if you are having a party.” Tony adds.

“Speaking of parties, I have another gift for our party tonight.” Pietro announced enthusiastically. “What’s that?” Nat turns her focus from the dance floor back to Pietro. “Well, I bought a bottle of old original Absinthe liquor. It’s so strong and it even can make you hallucinate a bit.” The Sokovian billionaire describes as he takes the bong from his brother in law to take his turn to smoke.

“Oh really? I have heard about it. Where is it now?” Nat pitches her question a little louder against the loudness of the music and people partying. “I told my assistant to send it here. Your bartender should be making some drinks for us with it by now.” Pietro smiles proudly about his surprise followed by some coughs out of him.

“Oh, which assistant? The one that Wanda fucked yesterday before the big important meeting with me and the board?” Nat smirks casually joking about what Wanda did. The brunette is really open with her best friends and brother including Vision about how high her sex drive is and how much she loves women. She knows her friends are okay with it, the downfall is they sometimes poke fun out of it just like Nat did. “Yeah, that one.” Pietro laughs.

“Oh, her? Yes, I did and she is really good. A really obedient assistant. She was so…let’s say, tight.” Wanda shares her short trip to yesterday’s memory of hers as she gently bites her lower lips then gives Nat a naughty smile.

Both Natasha’s index finger and thumb softly pinch Wanda’s chin so she can look at her forest green eyes that spark from the aggressive blinking spotlights following the beats for the music. “Oh, I know that, sweetheart. I know how she is.” Nat gives her response to the brunette next to her then wink at her.

The waitress brings a tray of cocktails that has the Absinthe that Pietro got for tonight. All of them cheer and take a big gulp of the green liquor.

Just like Pietro said about the Absinthe, they all start to get tipsy in a different way not to mention the effect from smoking the weed starts to kick in. Their body starts to relax more, but their throat still feels the warmth from what they drank and their heart starts to pump a little faster.

“Look what I’ve got! Look at these white beauties. Maximoffs, yours was really good last time but trust me, this one is even better.” Tony casually tosses a medium size bag of cocaine on the table. It’s more than enough for five of them to share all night long.

Wanda slowly blows the smoke from the burning weed that she inhaled. She hands the bong to Natasha for her turn shortly before she grabs the bag to check the white substance in it. “This looks good and if it hits good, give me the seller number, Stark.” Wanda's broad accent always shows up bolder whenever she gets drunk or high.

As Natasha is taking a hit, her eyes finally lock with the person she has been waiting for, you. She casually blows the smoke out, coughing a little as she watches you and your friends get to the bar.

_____

"Oh my god! Finally!" Kate tries her best holding herself not to jump in excitement as soon as the three of you get into the club.

You can feel the bass as if it punches your heart following the song beat. Some people bump into you when you are walking. The smells of alcohol, cigarette smokes and light marijuana fill the club. Your eyes keep trying to adjust with the light that keeps blinking in a random rhythm. The air feels sticky and warm from how many people are in there yet you also feel the cold breeze from the air conditioner that works really well.

You see two large screens on the high walls shining bright plays optical illusion video that match with the rhythm of the music. Few sexy female dancers dance on the dance pole and some of them dance inside giant bird cages. Some of them swing on the swing inside the cages like canary bird. People are dancing, jumping like crazy that you thought it was the effect of whatever they consume. You see some couples or maybe they just met there kissing in the darker part of the club like there is no tomorrow.

You and the girls walk to the bar right away. The bartender was about to greet you but he got a call. “Hey, Dimitri. Make them the same drinks you made us. Then give those three girls whatever they want, it’s on the house. Keep the drink flowing for them. Also tell Boris to tell the securities to let them do whatever they want as long as it's not dangerous.” Nat ordered from the other end of the line. “Yes, boss.” The blonde Russian bartender takes Nat’s order without any question.

Lose Control by Missy Elliot Ft, Ciara starts to play. You enjoy the vibe around you, the music makes you move your body a little unlike Kate, she literally starts dancing as she starts to sing the lyric

“Wow, this place is always a hit. Look at those beautiful people. I always love the DJ here. Look at Kate, she is not even drunk yet but already dancing like one of those dancers.” MJ looks around and comments on everything she sees including joking about Kate. “Well, you know how she is, MJ.” You laugh. Then you feel a tap on your shoulder and you turn around so do MJ and Kate as soon as they notice.

“Hi ladies. Ms. Romanoff ordered this for three of you. Don’t worry about what you order tonight. She will take care of your tab.” Dimitri informs the three of you with a smile and slides three green cocktails in front of you girls.

Kate and MJ gasp. “No, fucking way!! Ms. Romanoff, THE Ms. Romanoff?” MJ asks in such disbelief and you are more concerned about what’s in the drink.

“What’s this?” You asked. “It’s house special drink. Trust me, this is really good with a very expensive strong liquor called absinthe. You are lucky to be able to try this.” The blonde answers in a friendly manner.

“Oh, we are definitely drinking this. I've heard about that liquor. Thank  you!” Kate quickly grabs her drink. You sweetly thank him and grab yours, so does MJ. “Well normally, I wouldn’t drink anything from—” You try to express your thoughts but Kate doesn’t even let you finish your words. “Girl! Are you crazy? It’s from Natasha Romanoff, you better drink that! Wow, this is awesome. I wonder where she is watching us from.” Kate looks around the club to find Nat but the crowd is blocking the view.

“This means she is interested in you because I saw how she glanced at you. Wanda was looking at you too.” MJ tells you and Kate as she drinks her drink.

“You did too? I thought I was hallucinating when I noticed that earlier.” You finally tell them what was on your mind as you drink the strong cocktail. “How awesome would it be if she is really interested in you??” The excitement from Kate’s tone was easily heard despite how loud the club was.

“There's no way she is interested in me.” You roll your eyes playfully. “That’s a bummer.” MJ plays along with the joke. “Why not? There's a chance that she does." Kate winks at you. “You are crazy.” You shake your head at Kate’s comment and giggle but it gets into your head a little bit. Who would say no to the charming Natasha Romanoff. The first time you saw her, your mind was already all over the place. You imagine you caress her hair in a certain position, so close to you, for crying out loud.

You and the girls hang out near the bar a little longer and drink three more of the same drink. The three of you underestimated the strength of the alcohol in it from how smooth it is. You thought that the bartender was right, the drink is strong. It hits you harder than you thought it would be.

You can feel yourself start to get drunk., not tipsy but drunk. You can see that Kate and MJ are in the same state as you. You hear the DJ starting to play Heads Will Roll - A-Trak Remix by Yeah Yeah Yeah now. People start to cheer from knowing what’s gonna play soon from the intro, including Kate and MJ.

“Y/n! I love this song!! Let’s go to the dance floor now!” Kate and MJ drunkenly pull you to get to the dance floor. The more the alcohol gets in your blood, the faster your heart beats. The louder people cheer and the song gets the more you want to move and you start to dance under the alcohol influence with your friends. The three of you laugh and dance. Your eyes start to search for Nat albeit how drunk you are now. Little do you know that she has been watching you this whole time.

She watches and analyzes you. She notices that every time a man tries to dance with you, you will quickly refuse or drag yourself away but you are comfortable dancing with any girls who approach you. The more she watches the way you dance and your smile, the more she is drawn to you. She wants you. For some reason, she sees that you are different from other girls she met.

While Pietro and Tony are busy enjoying a line or two of the expensive white powder, what a coincidence that Wanda is also eye-ing you. She recognizes that you are the cute one she saw in the line when she walked by. She is watching you sharply like a hawk. Just like Nat, the brunette wants you too. Her desire skyrockets just by watching how your body moves. Both Nat and Wanda are looking at you like you are their prey yet both of them don’t notice that they are looking at you at the same time.

Wanda lets out a little growl as she feels every inch of her crave you, and being high and drunk only makes her want you even more. “Vision, dear. I want her tonight.” Wanda demands without even letting her gaze off you as she points at you.

Before Vision gets the chance to respond to his wife's words, Nat interrupts. Stern was her tone when she said “No. This one is mine.” as she keeps looking at you. Pietro and Tony laugh a little at the unexpected small competition between the Russian and the Sokovian women.

Pt. 2

A/n: Welp, that's all for today. I hope you like it. Let me know what you think. Reblog, comment and input are always appreciated. Follow me for more! See you in next!

Cheerio!

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[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Father of Mine – 1/2

Character: Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: With the tragic passing of her mother, Y/N learns to the truth of who her father is. 

Word Count: 4,000+

Warnings: Family death, cancer, absent father, cremation 

A/N: The reader is described as tall in this fic. Bruce Wayne is 6′2 and I’m tall, so I’m indulging myself with no apologies. Read it or don’t. 

“Do you want to say anything before we…” the operator asked her.

“No,” Y/N answered quickly.

“Oh, my assistant forgot to give you this,” the operator gave her a shy smile as he handed her a small cardboard box.

She opened it to find all of her mother’s jewelry that had been on her body at the funeral.

“Thank you,” Y/N told him.

“Ready?” The operator asked.

He had been so kind throughout the whole process. It was obvious he was used to people breaking down and being extremely emotional. 

But Y/N had been stoic, almost concerningly so. 

Though he wasn’t one to judge. Everyone grieved differently.

With the pull of a handle, Y/N watched her mother’s body going into the chamber.

“It will be a few hours,” the operator told her.

He meant it will it will take a few hours for her mother’s body to burn to ash. Then they would hand her a tacky vase with her remains.

Y/N just nodded. “I’ll go for a walk.”

As soon as she was outside, Y/N called her mother’s executor.

“Ms. Y/L/N, I was just about to call you.”

“I’m at the crematory,” she told him. “I figured we should discuss the bills that still need to be paid for.”

“Yes, of course. As I mentioned to you before, your mother’s life insurance covers quite a lot of it…” his words died out.

“But it’s still not enough,” Y/N finished for him. “I’ll get the money.”

She wasn’t exactly rich, but she also wasn’t living paycheck to paycheck. But people never realized how much money it cost for loved ones to die. It was honestly ridiculous.

“You might want to consider taking out a loan,” he tried to suggest gently.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Another thing, Ms. Y/L/N. There was an envelope with a name on it. And your mother left instructions on delivering the envelope to them.”

She stopped her pacing. 

“What name is on the envelope?” Y/N asked.

There was a pause.

“Bruce Wayne.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed.

Of course she knew who Bruce Wayne was – everyone in Gotham did, as well as most of the country. He was a billionaire playboy, only making headlines when he was a mess. But every once in awhile his philanthropy would sneak in there. Y/N always assumed those were only to help recover his image and not because he was a good person.

“You still there?” The executor asked.

“Yeah. I’m just a bit confused. But please pass it along to him, if that’s what my mom wanted.”

“I can’t. The instructions specifically say for you to deliver the envelop to him in person.”

“In person?” Y/N groaned in annoyance as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

Why did all of this have to be so god damn complicated?

“Yes. Her instructions are…oddly specific."

“Fine,” she huffed. “I’ll pick up everything from your office before the work day ends.”

——————

Y/N stared at the envelop that she’d tossed on her coffee table as she sipped a rather large glass of red wine.

She was wracking her brain trying to think of a time when her mom mentioned knowing Bruce Wayne. But Y/N would’ve remembered her mom saying his name – even in passing. It’s not a name that one can drop casually.

Y/N pulled up her phone and googled him. But she looked at his history. Yes, he was from Gotham, as was her mom, but so were 10 million other people.

But then Y/N’s scrolling paused when she realized they went to the same high school: Gotham Academy. Not only that, they graduated in the same year.

‘Were they friends?’ Y/N wondered.

But just classmates or friends still didn’t seem to warrant a handwritten letter to be delivered after one’s death.

Y/N didn’t open the envelope.

Her mother’s instructions specifically told her not to. And if she put in that much of an effort to get this done after her death, Y/N wasn’t going to ignore such a request.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t curious.

“Fuck,” Y/N sighed before throwing back the rest of her wine.

——————

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t grant you access to the building without your name being in the system by the company you’re visiting,” the building receptionist told her for the third time.

“I understand. But I called his office 30 fucking times and they refuse to put me through to him or get me an appointment,” Y/N practically growled.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I already called their office to say you were here and they didn’t recognize your name. I can’t let you through to the elevators.”

Y/N’s gaze flickered to the security guard who stood a few feet away. He was eyeing her now that there was clearly an argument going on.

Y/N wanted to roll her eyes. She had a good foot on him – even without her heels on. And he looked like he couldn’t run a 50 yard dash without passing out or vomiting. If he thought he was going to physically stop her, he had another thing coming.

“Listen, I am not some crazy fucking stalker. My mom knew Bruce Wayne and in her will she asked me to deliver this to him,” Y/N’s voice lowered and became disturbingly calm. “I don’t want to be here just as much as you don’t want to have this conversation.”

“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to calm down,” the security guard finally stepped forward.

“Oh, fuck off,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the rent-a-cop.

“Ma’am, I’ll have to ask you to leave,” he continued.

“Call me ma’am one more fucking time…” Y/N growled.

But the security guard was taking a step to her.

“Excuse me. What seems to be the problem here?” A voice suddenly interrupted.

Everyone turned to see a young man – younger than Y/N – glaring at the security guard just as he was about to grab Y/N.

“M-Mr. Drake, we were just escorting this young woman from the premises,” the guard stuttered out.

Everyone at the building knew every member of the Wayne family. But unlike his siblings, Tim Drake was at the office almost every day. As one should be when they’re the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company.

“For what reason?” Tim Drake asked.

“She insists on seeing Mr. Wayne. But she doesn’t have an appointment. For security reasons, I cannot let her through, obviously, unless the company she is visiting has put her into their system and the building’s system,” the receptionist explained nervously.

Y/N frowned as if she was bored of the whole thing.

Tim stepped forward. “May I ask what your business with Bruce Wayne is?”

Now that he was closer, Y/N noticed how exhausted he looked. He was handsome still, of course. But she wondered when he last got a good night’s sleep. He was shorter than her, probably standing at 5’5. And she still believed he was younger than her, which was wild seeing as he was already the CEO and couldn’t be older than 24.

Y/N sighed before she grabbed the envelope from her black leather satchel, and showed that Bruce Wayne’s name was handwritten on it.

“My mother wished me to personally deliver this to him.”

Tim tilted his head slightly. “Why isn’t she doing it?”

“Because she’s dead,” she shot back without emotion.

But Tim’s face became sympathetic. “I’m sorry. I should’ve assumed…”

“It’s fine,” Y/N quickly cut him off before he could continue.

She was so tired of being on the receiving end of people’s sympathy. It didn’t help. And the words stopped holding any meaning to her.

“But I’m sorry. Bruce isn’t in today. And he probably won’t be coming to the office for the rest of the week.”

“Oh,” was all she responded with.

Of course Bruce Wayne didn’t come to work. Why would he?

This was a stupid idea. And now she had made a scene because of it.

“But if you give me your information, I will personally let him know that you are trying to reach him.”

“Really?” Y/N asked in shock.

Tim smiled at her surprise. “Of course.”

“Here’s my card,” she quickly grabbed one from her wallet and then a pen. “All my info is on that.” She wrote something on the back. “And that’s my mom’s name.”

He took it from her and nodded. “What was your mother’s relationship with Bruce?”

Y/N shrugged. “Honestly, I have no idea. I’ve been trying to figure it out. Apparently they graduated in the same high school class. But that’s all I was able to find.”

He nodded.

“Thank you…Mr. Drake. For your help. Really,” she urged.

“Please, it’s just Tim.” Then he glared at the receptionist and security guard. “For you it is, at least.”

“Thank you again,” Y/N felt like saying it 30 more times still wouldn’t be enough.

“You don’t have to thank me. Someone will be in touch. Have a good day, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Y/N,” she corrected with a smile before she nodded and started backing away.

He smiled at her correction and gave a final nod.

——————

Y/N didn’t expect to hear from anyone for at least a week.

If the Wayne family was one thing, it was busy.

They probably had parties to go to, meetings to attend, private jets taking them around the world whenever they wished.

Why would they ever prioritize a meeting with her, a stranger?

So imagine her surprise when she received a call from an unrecognized number the same day she gave Tim Drake her card.

“Hello?” She answered.

Usually she would let any unknown number go to voicemail.

“Hello,” a British voice answered. “Am I speaking with Ms. Y/F/N Y/L/N?”

“This is she,” Y/N sat up straighter on her couch.

“This is Alfred Pennyworth. I work for Master Wayne and manage all his personal appointments. I was told by Master Tim that you wished to meet with him?”

“Uhhh. Yes. Yes, I do. Is that…is that possible?”

“Would you be able to stop by Wayne Manor on Friday afternoon?”

Y/N already knew she had nothing going on that would stop her from getting this done. But she still paused to pretend to think about it.

“Yes, Friday afternoon should be fine. Are you sure he doesn’t just want me to stop by Wayne Enterprises?”

It felt oddly intimate to stop by Wayne Manor. Wouldn’t they want to meet her in a more secure location like a corporate building with security that already hated her?

“He is quite certain. Should I send a car for you Ms. Y/L/N?”

A car?

Y/N felt even more out of her depth now.

“Oh, no. That won’t be necessary. I’ll be there.”

“I look forward to meeting you, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Thanks,” she answered before hanging up and realizing that probably wasn’t the proper response to such a polite goodbye.

——————

“I haven’t heard that name since high school,” Bruce had muttered as he stared at the business card for what felt like the thousandth time.

“Yes, and the end of your relationship did not end on the best of terms,” Alfred commented.

Y/M’s/N Y/L/N had been Bruce’s high school sweetheart.

An she had seen the last moments of Bruce’s normal life. 

Upon graduation, Bruce decided to leave Gotham and that’s how his second life was founded. The two of them broke up before the summer after graduation had even ended.

Well, “Breakup” was a strong word.

Bruce stopped answering her calls.

She was his first love and he continued to love her.

But once Bruce realized where his life was going and who he wanted to be, he knew he couldn’t drag her into it. She deserved better.

And Bruce was a coward about relationships then. Maybe he still was.

“I am certain you did a thorough background check on her already,” Alfred commented with a smirk.

Bruce took in a breath before listing off all of her accomplishments. “Y/F/N Y/L/N. Graduated number one in her class at Gotham Academy. She was the star of the track team, breaking the regional record for fastest time in 100m, 200m, and 400m races. Also captain of her soccer team. Attended NYU’s photography program before dropping out after a year. Now she’s a professional photography. Her work’s been featured in Vogue, New York Times, National Geographic…amongst others.”

“Rather an impressive woman,” Alfred said.

Bruce nodded.

“I should get the tea and coffee ready for her arrival.” And with that, Alfred left Bruce in the drawing room.

30 minutes later, the doorbell rang.

Bruce glanced down at his watch: she was right on time.

He heard Alfred saying his pleasantries before he heard the clicking of her heels as she rounded the corner to enter the room he was waiting in.

For being a famous photographer, she could’ve been a runway model with her height and the way she walked into the room, completely owning it. She wore four-inch heels, only adding to her natural tallness. And her bright, red coat only added to her presence.

For a split second, Bruce was convinced that he was looking at an Amazon. Diana immediately flashed into his mind for a split second. Perhaps that was what Y/M’s/N needed help with: to get her daughter to her real people. But how would she have known Bruce Wayne had such connections? Unless she knew Batman’s true identity…

As soon as Y/N spotted him in the room, he rose from his seat.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Bruce greeted.

He took a step forward and held out his hand.

“You guys really love the formalities.” She said it with a dark evenness, but it was clearly a joke. “Y/N is fine, Mr. Wayne,” she added as she shook his hand.

“In that case, it’s Bruce,” he countered with a soft smirk.

There was something so familiar about her. But Bruce knew they’d never met. 

“Thank you for seeing me. I don’t want to waste anymore of your time,” Y/N quickly got to it. She opened her purse to grab the envelope.

“My mom wanted you to have this. And she wanted to make sure I was the one to give it to you,” Y/N explained as she offered it to him.

Bruce took it carefully, but didn’t open it. “Yes, I heard about her passing. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” she said hurriedly, making it obvious to Bruce that she did not want nor need his condolences.

Bruce nodded slowly.

There was a pause.

“Do you know what it says?” He asked her lightly.

She shook her head. “I wasn’t supposed to read it.”

“I see.”

“I should really be going. I have a flight to catch later tonight.” Most people that visited Wayne Manor wished to stay there forever. Or their curiosity got the best of them and their eyes took in every little detail.

But Y/N looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. And she wanted to get out as soon as she possibly could.

“Thank you again for seeing me,” she rushed out.

Without waiting for his answer, Y/N turned and started walking out of the room.

But she only got a few steps before she stopped.

Bruce watched her shoulders tense and her body move as she was clearly taking in deep breath.

Slowly, Y/N turned around to face him.

“Were you friends?”

Bruce gave her a watery smile. “She was my girlfriend in high school.”

Y/N seemed annoyed by that answer. “She never mentioned you. Not once.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed at that and his eyes zoned out as if he was revising the past in his mind. “I’m not entirely surprised. Things didn’t really end well between us.”

She nodded slowly. “Goodbye, Mr. Wayne.”

And Y/N turned and strutted out of the room without looking back.

As soon as Bruce heard her cab drive away, he ripped open the envelope and pulled out a letter.

He barely noticed that Dick had walked into the room. “May I ask…Who was the extremely attractive and tall woman that just walked out?”

But Bruce didn’t hear him as his eyes raced across the letter. His heart sped as he continued reading.

“Bruce?” Dick asked after being ignored. “Is she your next conquest or what?”

It wasn’t until Bruce was done reading the letter for the third time that he finally looked up and acknowledged Dick.

Alfred had also walked into the room, unbeknownst to Bruce.

“You OK?” Dick asked, now concerned with how silent Bruce had become.

“Master Wayne?” Alfred also urged.

“That was…my daughter,” Bruce finally muttered.

Dick blinked before his eyes grew wide in shock.

Alfred seemed less surprised, almost as if he had already put that together.

“Excuse me,” Bruce told them and exited the room.

———

Dick and Alfred must’ve warned the rest of the family not to bother Bruce in the cave. Usually he would’ve been disturbed by now.

Bruce had been at the computer for hours.

Alfred was the first person to come down, carrying a tray with dinner and tea.

The butler wasn’t surprised to find Y/N’s face all over the screens.

If Bruce had left any available information hidden before inviting Y/N to the manor, it was all out there now. Bruce knew everything about Y/F/N Y/L/N that was public knowledge – probably even some things that were not.

“You know, you did not seem all that surprised,” Bruce said to Alfred as he put the tray of food down next to him.

“Seemed rather obvious, didn’t it?”

Bruce quickly turned to look at him. “It did?”

Alfred smirked. “Her eyes,” was all he said.

“The color?”

Alfred shook his head. “As soon as she walked into the manor, they were reading me.” He tilted his head in Bruce’s direction. “Observation. Perception. Attention to detail...That is all you, Master Wayne.”

“The way she held herself,” Alfred continued, "Shoulders held back, head high, walking with purpose. No hesitation.”

“Also me?” Bruce asked.

Alfred simply nodded.  

“I don’t think she liked me very much,” Bruce sighed.

He didn’t know how he felt about that yet.

“A lot of people think you don’t like them when you first meet them,” Alfred countered. “Because I don’t trust them yet.”

Alfred raised his brows and silently ask him, ‘Don’t you see my point?’

Bruce rubbed his face and reached for the tea on the tray, ignoring all the food.

“I don’t know why you’re so entertained by this, Alfred.”

“Yes, I was entertained. I just saw a younger, female version of you, Master Wayne.”

“I abandoned her,” Bruce shot.

“You didn’t know she existed,” Alfred corrected.

“And why do you think that is?”

Alfred’s face dropped a little bit when he noticed the envelope discarded on the far end of Bruce’s desktop.

He looked down at the ground as he asked, “Might I ask what the letter said?”

Bruce glared at the letter as if touching it would burn him.

But after a moment, he grabbed it and quickly handed it to Alfred.

Bruce,

If this letter has finally reached you, it is because I have passed.

I must admit that I wrote this letter mostly in the event that I leave my daughter before she is an adult. But once Y/N turned 18, I decided to still pass this along to you.

There is no easy way to tell you this, so I will get to the point.

The young woman who delivered this letter to you is your daughter, Bruce.

Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N.

When I found out I was pregnant with her, I was only 18. We had just graduated high school. You had started traveling. You called less and less. And you grew more distant – physically and emotionally. Eventually, you stopped answering my calls altogether. I left you a voicemail, only saying that I so desperately needed to talk to you, that I needed you.

But you never called me back.

With no words at all, you made it very clear that you no longer wanted anything to do with me.

But there I was, a teenager who was pregnant with our child.

I would be lying if I said I never considered terminating my pregnancy. I was scared and you broke my heart. All I wanted to do was erase you from my life.

But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Once I decided what my future was going to be, I also decided that I did not want you to have any part in it.

I knew even if you pretended to play the doting father and the committed partner, you would grow tired of us eventually. You would resent me and our child for bringing you down. And you would brush us aside for yourself.

I realized I would rather Y/N have no father at all than one who would only disappoint her over and over again.

To this day, I truly believe I did the right thing for all three of us.

There are not enough words to explain the complicated woman that Y/N grew up to be. But I will try my best. I think I owe you that at least. 

Or maybe you have no interest.

I don’t know how she became so much like you, even when I never so much as showed her a picture of you or uttered your name.

She enjoys being alone – almost to her own detriment. I constantly catch her repressing her feelings, always staying strong for everyone else. It reminds me of you. She’s assertive and confident, never letting anything stand in the way of what she wants. Sometimes I don’t think she’s scared of anything. It worries me, just like it worried me when I thought the same of you.

I truly don’t know what you will do with this information.

But…if you have any desire to form some sort of relationship with her, then you should know this: she will not make it easy for you. She will push you away. And she might even hate you. I raised her to never need a man in her life, and she’ll make sure you know that.

I don’t expect anything from you. I never did.

But I would just like to know there might be someone who will be there for her should she need them.

Goodbye, Bruce.

Alfred slowly handed the letter back to Bruce when he was finished.

“I pushed her away because I knew what I was about to become,” Bruce explained darkly. “And I didn’t want her anywhere near it. She would’ve been in danger.”

“Y/N, as well,” Alfred added.

“But had I known…if I just listened to her–”

“Master Wayne, I thought we had agreed to never linger on the ‘what ifs.’”

That sure silenced Bruce.

“Now, what do you plan on doing, Master Wayne?”

———

Y/N frowned when her phone started vibrating and she recognized the name of her mom’s executor on her phone screen.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Y/L/N, how are you?”

“Fine. How are you?” She was quick, wanting to get this over with. Surely, he had bad news. Another medical bill came in or some other expense that slipped by them.

“Good, good. Just curious…have you placed any payments to our various claims?”

“Uhhh…no. But I’m working on it.”

Y/N hadn’t expected to get a call nagging about paying bills.

“No, no, no. You misunderstand. They’ve all been paid,” the executor explained.

Y/N sat up straighter in her chair. “What? That’s not possible.”

“An anonymous donor. They somehow got record of all your outstanding payments and covered all of them.”

Y/N was stunned to silence.

“Ms. Y/L/N…this is a good thing.”

She blinked and shook her head. “Right. Yes, of course. I just…thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank this guardian angel of yours.”

---------------------

Part 2

Let me know what you think!!!

[rebeccccccaaa]

Ѕтдсч’ѕ Мом

_________________________

ɴᴀᴛᴀsʜᴀ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴏғғ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Summary: fucking stacy’s mom dude; what else is there to say?

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: milf!nat good god, age gap [not established but over 21 cuz drinks lol and pretty big but consensual ofc], major mommy kink lol, unnecessarily using the phrase ‘stacy’s mom’ too much, i might end doing another part even though it’s a long one

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: stacy’s mom has got it going on ;)

__________________________

“Did you hear me?” Stacy asked you.

“Huh?” you snapped your head back to her completely unsure of what she said.

You two were hanging around the pool soaking in the sun. It was summer and your college classes didn’t start for another six weeks. You’ve been spending your summer with Stacy and her mom at her beach/fucking big ass mansion in California.

Stacy’s mom worked as an architect or something back home in New York with Stark Industries so to say they were rich would be a huge understatement. She was practically a billionaire like the owner himself. Also the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever laid your eyes on. You’ve had a crush on her since the day you met her back home in New York.

“I asked if you wanted to order pizza? We can get something else but I’m not cooking without my mom,” she giggled.

The day that Stacy’s mom went back to New York for a business trip you guys attempted to make pancakes. Fucking pancakes. And almost burned down the house. Everyday since, you guys have been buying and ordering delivery on everything; she had the money so.

“Oh sure that’s cool. Maybe we can go pick up some beer too?” you suggested.

“I like the way you think, Y/l/n,” Stacy said, pulling out her phone.

You laid back down letting the sun warm your skin before you turned your head back to Stacy.

“When is your mom coming back?”

“Um, I’m not sure but probably sometime this weekend, she shouldn’t have been gone that long. Why? You miss her? Like her more than me?” Stacy jokes, making you flush and get defensive.

“What? No, I was just asking,” you told her.

“Hey, relax I’m just messing with ya,” she laughed.

You breathed out heavily and tried to distract your thoughts but you weren’t doing a good job as you instantly started thinking about Stacy’s mom. Goddammit. You two went inside and heard a knock on the big glass front door and Stacy ran to get the door. The pizza is probably here.

You went ahead to the guest room you occupied and instantly took a cold shower. You were sweaty and overheated from sunbathing not from the insensitive thoughts about Stacy’s mom bending you over the side of the pool as she pumped her fingers in and out of you whispering the filthiest things in your ear, definitely not from that.

You came out and the smell of greasy pizza overcame you. You walked into the kitchen finding the pizza sitting on the counter and you walked over to grab your slice. You stuff the slice in your mouth before turning to grab a beer from the fridge. You grabbed the beer and shut the fridge door only to be completely taken by surprise.

“Got enough for one more gal?” your eyes widen and your breath hitched making you almost choke on the pizza still stuffed in your mouth. You pulled the pizza out and chewed rapidly as her gorgeous smile widened at your flustered state.

“Miss Romanoff, you’re back,” you said, your mouth still full.

“Yup, just got back,” she nodded towards the baggage piled by the living room couch.

“Cool,” you swallowed audibly.

“Mom! You’re back,” Stacy came in; thankfully.

“Hi hon. You two holding up with delivery and junk?” she joked nodding towards the pizza on the counter and in your hand along with the beer.

“Hey, we tried to cook something but we almost burnt the house down so we just gave up,” Stacy explained, grabbing a greasy slice of pizza.

“Ugh, you girls need to learn how to cook. This stuff isn’t good for you to have all day everyday.”

“Well, if you hadn’t left us,” Stacy said sarcastically with a mocking grin.

“Trust me, I didn’t want to,” she said, looking at you.

A few hours had passed and you sat in the living room watching movies with Stacy and her mom. The movie was quite scary since those were Stacy’s favorite and during a particular quiet and suspenseful scene your stomach growled embarrassingly loud causing both of the women to snap their heads to you.

“I- I’m so sorry, I’m really hungry,” you mumbled shyly.

“Lemme order something,” Stacy said, grabbing her phone.

“No, no, no. you girls are done with the takeout. Come on; go wash your hands. We’re gonna cook something together.”

You and Stacy stood at the counter covered in flour tiredly kneading dough with your hands. Stacy’s mom grew up in Russia and she wanted to teach you guys how to make her favorite dish that her mom always made for her for lazy summer nights just like this one.

“Ugh, my hands hurt,” Stacy complained.

“That means you're doing it right,” her mom snickered.

She came up behind you closer than you’d like peering over your shoulder like a vulture. She rested her hand on either side of you cagin you in, pressing against the counter suggestively. You breathing quicken and you could feel her breath fanning over your shoulder and chills erupted all over your skin.

“You doing alright?” she asked you, of which you silently nodded afraid that your voice would betray you embarrassingly in front of her and her daughter.

“Good girl,” she whispered, squeezing your hip making you jolt.

“You good?” Stacy chuckled.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said sneaking a glance at Stacy’s mom who carried mischief in her eyes.

You continued to slowly but surely make your dinner for the night until suddenly the doorbell rang and echoed across the gigantic house.

“Expecting company, you two?” Stacy’s mom asked.

“Not that we know of?” Stacy said wiping her hand on her apron before scurrying to the front door.

“You’re doing so good, Y/n,” Stacy’s mom teased.

“Th- Thank you,” you mumbled timidly.

“Of course. Anytime, hon,” she whispered getting closer to you.

“Miss Romanoff,” you whispered, turning your head.

“Yeah?” she smiled softly, her lips impossibly close to yours.

“I- uh, you’re-”

“What are you guys doing?” Stacy asked.

“Y/n’s got something in her eye; poor thing,” she said and you instantly started blinking quickly and rubbing your eye, feigning that uncomfortable feeling.

“Oh no, do you need eye drops?” Stacy asked sincerely, guess she bought it.

“No, I think I’m ok,” you told her quickly.

That’s when you actually registered your surroundings again after being suffocated by Stacy’s mom’s perfume and lusting atmosphere. God, you want this woman to fuck you so badly.

“What’re you doing here?” Stacy’s mom asked in her usual playful manner.

“Well, I wanted to surprise Stacy by taking her to a weekend getaway in Malibu; had I known you had guests. I don’t mean to exclude you,” Jason, Satcy’s boyfriend arrived without notice.

“Oh, it’s ok. I’ve been here all summer. You should go; spend some summertime with your boyfriend for a bit,” you smiled at Stacy.

“Really? I don’t want to leave you all alone,” Stacy said.

“She won't be alone; she’ll be with me,” Stacy’s mom said smirking at you; she pressed her hand to your lower back making you stiffen.

“Think you can handle my mom for the entire weekend alone?” Stacy said laughing but you weren’t.

“Can you?” her mom teased.

“I’ll try,” you said shakily. You were not ready.

“Ok, ok. Let me go pack,” Stacy said, turning to Jason excitedly.

Jason followed in pursuit hot on her heels leaving you alone for a moment with her mom. She caged you in her arms as she did before, pressing her hips flushed against your bottom. You gasped softly feeling her cold hands riding up your back under your shirt.

“Miss Romanoff,” you choked.

“Nat; we’re close, aren’t we?” she whispered in your ear.

“What are you doing?” you felt her nails lightly scratching your back making you shudder.

“We’re gonna have the whole weekend to ourselves, hon,” she smirked devilishly.

“Fuck,” you breathed out when her hands brushed to your front, her thumbs grazing the bottom of your breasts.

“Ok, all ready; I think,” you heard Stacy and her boyfriend coming down the stairs. Nat, pushed her herself off you and walked over to her daughter and her boyfriend, swaying her hips just a little bit more than usual knowing you’d kept your eyes subtly trained on them.

“Have fun you two. We’ll see you guys Monday?”

“Monday night,” Jason said.

“Bye mom. Bye, Y/n.”

You waved them off with a small smile, your stomach doing flips anticipated what the hell this woman had in store for you. If she was even going to lay a hand on you, you had no fucking idea. You just stay still, absolutely unmoving, behind the counter.

“Alright, hon. Let’s finish this dinner,” Nat said, turning to you.

Throughout finishing cooking, Nat kept her hands to herself but that didn’t mean she stopped teasing you. Every time you did something correctly, she whispered praises to you that made you wet, arousal pooling between your thighs uncontrollably.

You sat at the counter next to her quietly eating what you made with her help. She watched you carefully to see if you’d like the food and you weren’t going to lie, the food was amazing.

“You did it all by yourself, малышка. Such a good girl you are,” she whispered making you tremble. She picked up your empty plate and carried it to the sink. You sat still in your seat before Nat came up behind, moving your hair from your shoulder and neck. She leaned down and pressed her lips lightly against your burning skin.

“Miss Romanoff,” you said suddenly standing abruptly.

“Yes, hon,” she said.

“W- we, we can’t-” you heavily stuttered.

“Ok,” she responded.

“Wh- what?”

“Ok; I’m sorry,” she stepped away from you. You don’t know why you were so surprised, you literally told her to stop.

“Ok,” you whispered.

“Good night, hon,” she said walking away.

When she was out of sight you huffed deeply feeling like you could finally breathe normally again. You trotted hastily upstairs seeing as Nat was seemingly in her room. You walked up to her door cautiously, light peering from under the door; reaching for the handle but ultimately shied away thinking about the fact that she was your best friend’s mother.

“Fuck, this is wrong,” you said to yourself frustratingly.

You went to your own room closing the door as quietly as possible. You tried to occupy your mind as best as you could running a shower, brushing your teeth, even re-folding your clothes that were already tucked neatly in your drawers. You couldn't shake the feeling of the way her lips felt against your skin.

You were so desperate to be in that position again and Stacy’s out of the house; the opportunity was perfect but of course you cowarded away running off to your room lying to yourself that you didn’t desperately want to spend the night in her bed.

You looked at the time and saw that it was around ten at night deciding it was late enough to hit the sheets; not the ones you want but whatever at point honestly. That proved to be a huge struggle as you tossed and turned for hours. Everytime you close your eyes you're met with those beautiful emerald green eyes that you find yourself getting lost in everytime you see them.

“Ugh, shit,” you groaned, unable to sleep.

You stood up abruptly throwing your sheets to the floor paying no mind to the mess you made. You swung the door open and stomped to her room. You were furious that this woman, who clearly didn’t do anything, was keeping from sleeping peacefully as you had been in the previous nights.

You stood silently in front of her door breathing heavily. What were you thinking? What were you gonna do; yell at this poor woman who didn't do anything? But she did. She kissed you.

“Are you gonna stand out there like a creep or are you gonna let yourself in?” her muffled voice came from beyond the door and your eyes widened.

You hastily turned the knob to her door finding her resting beautifully in the golden dimmed light on her large white bed; the sheets so fluffy she looked like an angel resting on a cloud. She had a book in hand, it was Russian so you couldn’t understand the words. But nevermind that, you stood in front of the closed door with an angry expression on your face.

“Now what’s got your panties in a twist, hon?” she asked, a smirk playing on her naturally red lips.

“You,” you retorted.

“And what do you want me to do about those panties?” she closed her book, setting it on her night stand. God, why did she say it like that?

“I can’t sleep.”

“Why’s that?” she knows why; she’s got you wrapped around her dainty little finger.

“You kissed me,” you said quickly.

“Uh, correction. I kissed your neck,” she swung her legs over the edge of the bed to stand up.

“You- you, you put your hands on me. And- and, and you stopped.”

“Because you said to,” she walked up to you, making your stomach flip.

“I didn’t really mean it,” you whispered shyly.

“Really?” she whispered back.

“Do you want me to put my hands on you again?” she asked seductively.

You hesitated refusing to look her in those perfect green eyes because you know you fall when you do.

“Look at me and use those big girl words,” she whispered, her breath fanning across your face.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Please what?” she teased.

You looked up at her letting out a shaky breath. You were about to pass the point of no return and looking into those hypnotizing sage eyes you wanted nothing more than to let her have her way with you.

“Please kiss me,” you whimpered.

Nat grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you flushed against her body kissing you feverishly. Your eyes fluttered closed, moving your lips with hers. Her hands ran up under your shirt ghosting your skin making your skin burst into chills. You practically trembled under her cold hands.

“Красотка,” she whispered against your lips.

“Huh?’ you mumbled dazed and confused by the sudden change of dialect; that was very hot keep in mind.

“абсолютно очаровательны,” she chuckled.

“Wha-?” you stuttered. What the fuck just happened?

She lifted her hands up your body as did you, lifting you shirt off your body. She practically growled at the sight of your breasts. She leaned down, licking along the valley of your breasts peering up at you with those big eyes you loved so much.

She kneeled to the ground pulling your pajama bottoms down your legs torturously slowly. You wiggled your knees back and forth whining at her teasing but she simply nipped and kissed your legs chuckling at your eagerness. She rubbed your legs softly standing up and rested her hands on your hips.

“You are so beautiful,” she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Thank you,” you said timidly.

“Come here, Красотка,” you followed her to the bed and you excitedly crawled to the center. Nat stayed standing smirking at your hypnotized expression as she peeled her shirt off her body and dragged her shorts and panties down her legs. She crawled to you with a playful smile on her lips and sat directly in front of you.

You grinned climbing onto her lap kissing her softly. Her hands ran lightly up your back as her lips moved smoothly against yours. You could feel her perky nipples brushing yours pulling soft moans from you. Her hand made its way into your hair tugging the strands to pull your head back. Her lips instantly falling to the skin of your neck sucking marking you as hers. Your breathing became static and heavy and Nat chuckled at your inexperience.

“Tell me, Y/n, have you ever been with a woman before?” she whispered in your ear, her breath making you shiver.

You shook your head.

“Words, Красотка,” she gripped your chin harshly.

“No; never,” you whispered.

“Oh, I’m gonna have fun with you, little one,” she chuckled darkly.

“Oh god,” you moaned.

“You want mommy to show you a good time?” she snickered.

“Please.”

“Lay back, baby. Mommy’s gonna be right back,” she said kissing you softly. Your stomach fluttered as you patiently waited laying on her incredibly soft bed. You turned your head to watch her leave ever so elegantly; her bottom swaying teasingly as she disappeared into her closet. She walked out with a huge strap and some silk ties and your legs started to shake from excitement? Fear? Both? Yeah, both.

“Safe word?”

“Milf,” you said cheekily, making her laugh out loud.

“Funny.” she mocked, shaking her head.

“Arms up. You let me know if it gets too much ok?” she said cupping your face sweetly.

“Ok; mommy,” you grinned before she kissed you quickly.

She moved up your body straddling your waist to tie the silk ropes around your wrists and the bedframe. You could feel the warmth from her core grinded against you and you felt yourself grow hot under her and bit your lip shyly. She peered down at your flustered state and smirked, proudly seeing you already squirming haven’t even laid a finger on you. She tugged harshly on the knots making sure you had nowhere to go and your stomach flipped when you tested it and you were unable to move your arms from their newfound position.

“Are you gonna tie my legs too?” you asked.

“We’ll take it easy the first night?” First night?

She stood at the foot of the bed staring lustfully into your eyes as she put on the strap, settling comfortably around her hips. She spit in her hand before wrapping it around the standing faux cock pumping and coating it with her saliva. You couldn't help the way you instinctively squeezed the thighs shut in an attempt to relieve yourself.

“Open those pretty legs sweetie. Let mommy take a look at your gorgeous pussy,” her words made you moan softly as you complied.

“So beautiful,” she whispered, almost to herself but you could hear her delicate words.

Her hands came up your thighs and placed them over her own. She brought her fingers down to your core and circled her finger around your entrance. You’ve been aroused since the moment she first pressed her lips against your skin downstairs; to say you were wet was an understatement, you were practically dripping already. She grinned devilishly before pushing her fingers past your folds slowly.

“We're gonna have to stretch you out if this fat cock is gonna fit inside you,” she told you.

You moaned feeling how cold her fingers were, but you loved it. Her thumb came up and pressed firmly against your clit before circling languidly. Your brows furrowed at the pleasure she was stimulating and you bit your lip trying your hardest to not moan like a pornstar.

“I wanna hear you, Красотка,” she pulled your bottom lip from between your teeth.

“Ugh, mommy. That feels so good,” you breathed out.

“Just wait til mommy gets to stuff her cock in this tight little pussy,” she practically growled. Her fingers moved faster in and out of you and you felt that familiar coil in the pit of your stomach, a feeling you often got when you thought about her with your hand between your thighs, starting to build.

“Ah shit, I’m gonna come, mommy!” you whined, tugging on the ropes.

“You wanna come? Come for mommy, Красотка,” she whispered.

Your stomach tightened and your legs squeezed tightly around her waist as you gushed all over her fingers. When you slowly came down from your first orgasm, she brought her fingers to her mouth sucking them clean. Her enchanting green eye locked with yours as she did so; god that was so hot.

“So fucking sweet,” she moaned. She grabbed her faux cock and rubbed the tip along your entrance and you jolted at the feeling.

“You gotta breathe baby, breathe,” she pushed her hips forward and your body tensed up at the stretching her cock was doing to you. Her hands grabbed your waist as she slowly began thrusting her hips in and out. You back arched off the bed; becoming a moaning mess under the stunning redhead.

Nat held a blissful expression watching you write beneath her. It had been so long since she’s ravished another in her bed. And she’s kept an eye on you for a while. You were this sweet little thing that walked through the elevator doors back home in New York and Nat knew she wanted you.

She’s always known and saw the way you let your eyes linger. The way you stuttered when she asked you a question. The way you’d instantly freeze when she grazed her fingers over your waist, or pressed her hand on your lower back to get past you for whatever. Most of the time it was just an excuse to get close to you.

You made her feel young again. Reminded here what it was like to be desired by another woman. She knew you would never muster up the courage to actually make some sort of move, especially since you are always with Stacy. Tonight was a perfect opportunity and it terrified her for that moment that she had fucked up and scared you off. She really cared about you and for you; and hurting you was damn near about to kill the woman.

“You're taking mommy’s cock so well, Красотка,” she cupped your face.

You started grunting and whining practically yanking at the restraints. Grinding your hips in rhythm with her thrust desperately chasing your second release. God, the woman made you come once and now you’re completely and utterly addicted to her.

“Now, don’t get greedy, little one. Mommy’s giving all she can; do you need to be punished? I can walk away-”

“No! Please, mommy! Don’t leave me, please,’ tears brimmed your ears; you didn’t even want to think about not being her arms right now.

“Ok, then be a good girl and stop whining like a little brat. Is that what you are? Just a greedy whore desperate for mommy’s cock?” her words made you moan and squirm even more.

“No, I’m sorry mommy,” you choked out.

“Oh, Красотка,” she sighed.

She quickly pulled out, making you almost scream. You quickly let out a string of apologies but she simply grabbed your hips and flipped you over to your stomach. She brought her hand up and striked down smacking your cheek so loud it frightened you. However the sting felt so delicious and you shudder secretly wanting more. Her hand ran up your back grabbing your hair harshly to pull your head back; her body molding perfectly against you as she spoke in your ear.

“Красотка, mommy wanted to go easy on you tonight but if you want to act like a whore, you’ll get fucked like one.”

“Fuck!” you cried when she rutted her hips back into you from behind.

Her hand grabbed the globes of your ass, kneading the hot flesh from her spanks. Your upper body was being propped by your elbows until Nat hit a particular spot inside you that made you collapse. Nat smiled proudly to herself, continuing to drive her hips into you.

“Красотка, I can tell you want to come,” she said.

“Yes! Please, mommy let me come! Your cock feels so good,” you moaned muffled by the sheets your face was buried in.

“Go ahead, Красотка. Let go all over Mommy’s cock,” she granted.

“Fuck!” you back arched and your head was thrown back; your toes curled.

You practically trembled feeling Nat’s faux cock hit deeper inside you than any other partner, which wasn’t many to begin with, had ever reached before. Your eyes rolled so far back you felt like you were about to pass out. You’ve never been in such a euphoria high quite like this before and it was overwhelming. Tears flowed down your cheeks as you cried Nat’s name until everything went black for a moment.

You pried your tired eyes open realizing you were tucked closely by Nat’s side.

“There she is,” Nat cooed.

“I didn’t hurt, did I?” she asked softly.

“No, I feel great,” you giggled.

“You did so well, Красотка,” she kissed your forehead, cuddling you closer.

“What does that mean? The name you called me,” you asked.

“It means ‘beautiful girl’,” she whispered looking into your eyes.

Fucking hell, you were falling in love with this woman more and more with every passing second. You casted your eyes away shyly but she cupped your face and made you look at her again.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” she teased.

“I know it might be wrong, but I’m in love with Stacy’s mom,” you told her.

She smiled softly before kissing you passionately, literally taking your breath away. No other words were exchanged. You simply closed your eyes and basked in what could be the only night you get to spend with someone as perfect as Natasha.

==================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison​

@buckybarnes101​

@l-sofiamia-l

@pluto-grl

@partr1dge

@stefans-wife

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (Natasha’s Fics)

@natasha-danvers

@fayhar

@mitchiesdungeon

[donutloverxo]

Soooo there are many fics where reader makes steve jealous and it ends in rogh possesive fcking.. but what if steve tries to make reader jealous and it totally backfires and she becomes extremely insecure?? But please with a fluffy ending because my poor heart can’t handle anything less 🥺🥺

Hey. Thanks for the request and I hope this fits. *gif is not mine* Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs and welcome and much appreciated. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+. Please🙏🙏

"Um... yes?" You asked as you brought down the hand which was holding out a twenty dollar bill - since you thought it was the pizza you've been waiting for, for like the past half an hour, and not a blond, six feet and some inches,tall super soldier.

"Hi... doll," he smiled.

"My name's Y/N," you corrected him as you frowned, so fed up of men undermining you by calling you such 'sweet' nicknames. You knew Captain Rogers wasn't like that, but still you couldn't have him getting any ideas.

"Right," he cleared his throat as he repeated your name. "Sorry," he said with a toothy grin, which almost made your heart melt.

"How did you get my address, Captain?"

"Tony gave it to me. I would've asked you at work... but I wanted to do this the right way."

"Do what?" you quirked a brow.

"Um, I maybe people aren't as formal nowadays," he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, "But I can't really change who I am... not so late in life anyway," he cringed as he realised he was pretty rambling then, taking a deep breath he gathered enough courage, "I wanted to ask you to come with me, as my date, to the valentines party this Sunday."

You hummed at that, considering it because damn if Rogers wasn't convincing. Even when he wasn't as authoritative and dominating as he is when he puts on the suit.

It would be nice to be courted and treated nicely, and to not have to put up with the shit most men try to pull with you, you were sure Rogers would show you the time of your life. Besides, only an idiot would say no to him.

"No." You said with a finality that left no room for debate. "Is that all?"

"Uh... I... yes..." he stammered, not exactly prepared to be turned down so bluntly. "Can I ask why?"

"I don't shit where I eat."

"What?" his eyebrows cutely scrunching up.

You just knew you must've touched a nerve with your crass language. Tony, your boss, had told you about Cap and his 'language' incident.

"I don't date people at work... it can get complicated," you explained as he nodded.

It wasn't a complete lie. You didn't want to be known as the 'easy' girl or have others gossip about you. But that would be a sacrifice you'd willing make for someone like Steve. Who'd dare make fun of the Captains girl anyway?

You had been smitten with him from the moment you saw him, learning about his bravery and sacrifice as a kid you looked upto him and respected him, but when you met him in real life... you were a complete goner. Your stomach did somersaults every time he touched you, or hell even looked your way.

You tried your best to flirt, which was basically you stuttering and trying to make small talk whenever you had a chance to talk to him. Since he was born almost a century ago he would probably be offended if you were the one to make the first move.

You continued your back and forth for weeks before he told you about her. That he'll be visiting her over the weekend. You simply nodded, having a vague idea of who Peggy Carter was but not of what she went to Steve.

After some research you found out that she was an old flame of his, someone he couldn't marry and build a life with because he was frozen for decades. Upon seeing her many qualifications, and just how freaking brilliant she was, you knew one thing.

You may not be as smart as her, but you knew that you could never measure upto a woman that incredible. Someone Steve still visits after all these years. You were already afraid that he was out of your league but now you were sure of it.

"Did I do something wrong?" he wanted to know.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," he shoved his hands in his pockets, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout, "It's just that you used to talk to me all the time... and now it seems as if you're ignoring me. Is it because of something I did? Whatever it is I never meant to hurt you," he swore.

You sighed. "It's nothing you did, really. I just realized how incompatible we are. I hope you find the one you're looking for, someone who'll make you happy and give you the world. It just won't be me."

You didn't let him say anything closing your door instantly as you kept your tears at bay.

At the valentines party

"Cap," Tony said, slapping a hand on Steve's shoulder, "I thought you'd have her on your arm tonight. What happened?"

Referring to his assistant. He wanted to play cupid this once, since it was the season of love, he wanted to see his idiot friends happy. He was sure you both would be disgustingly smooching and all cute at the party. But not only had you both shown up separately, you seemed to be actively ignoring Steve.

"She uh... rejected me," he said, looking down into his glass of whiskey. It didn't do much for him but it helped him blend in.

"Ouch," Tony winced, "I was sure she would go for you. But I guess I have been wrong before," he shrugged.

"Really?"

"Yeah. She goes all heart eyes whenever you're around. But I guess that's nothing unique since that's just how most women act around you," he scoffed. "You should read all the love letters you got today. I was going through them, you have quite a passionate fanbase of people who want to... what was it..." he pretended to think hard about it. "Yes, 'ride your bicep', I don't understand the physics of how on earth that would work, but I am intrigued."

"Tony," Steve rolled his eyes as he always does when he's around the billionaire. "I don't really care about all of them... they don't know me. I only care about her and I don't know why she said no, but there's nothing I can do about it."

"Whoa, you're accepting defeat so soon? Where's that I-can-do-this-all-day attitude?"

"This isn't a war, Tony. If she doesn't see me that way... then there isn't much I could do."

"Maybe she's just playing hard to get. There's absolutely no way to really know what goes on in womens heads, Rogers. They're so smart and sneaky... it's kinda scary actually."

"I don't think she'd play games..."

Tony had gotten distracted pretty quickly and left Steve alone to pout and only appreciate your beauty from afar. You had worn a pink dress with red hearts on it, and for some reason, you got more beautiful every time he looked at you.

"Hello."

He jerked when he heard the foreign voice, looking at the blonde woman next to him, with her hand out, he shook it just to be polite.

"I'm Crystal," she smiled, flashing her sparkly white teeth.

"I'm Steve."

"Of course I know who you are!" she laughed, "You're Captain America, everyone knows you," she playfully hot his bicep before squeezing it, "Oh my... you must work out a lot."

"Uh... yeah..." he nodded. He could never get used to how people perceived him so differently.

"There is something I need to know really bad," Crystal blinked as she looked up at him, "Do you wear underwear in those suits? They seem really tight, wouldn't it be uncomfortable?"

"Oh, um... we just sort of..."

You had never looked at yourself as a jealous person. Maybe things were different when it came to Steve... he was a pretty special guy.

When you looked at him, talking to some girl, dancing with her, laughing and having fun with her, it was as if you were on fire from simmering rage, at the same time you could feel your heart breaking in a million pieces.

You knew it was wrong. You had no claim to him, he can do whatever he wants. If you said no to him then it makes perfect sense that he seeked out someone else.

You just had to get away for some fresh air, so you wouldn't abandon all class and pull the girls hair and drag her away from your Steve.

You yelped when you heard him call out your name.

Looking over your shoulder you saw him staring at you, his brows scrunched up, he looked so worried. But why?

"What're you doing here? You'll catch a cold, doll," he takes off his blazer, putting it over your shoulders and then groaning when he realised his slip up.

"Right, sorry, old habits die hard. I won't call you that again, I promise," he said, crossing his finger over his heart.

"No... I think it's kinda sweet. No ones ever had such an endearing petname for me. I do like it."

"Oh," he frowned, "it's just that you said you didn't."

Tony, of all the people in the whole universe, was right. There was no understanding women.

"I guess I lied..."

"Why?"

"Um..." You were at a loss of words and nervous. Steve wouldn't tolerate lies, and you didn't want him to hate you. "It was easier to do that then tell you the truth."

"What's the truth?"

"I do like you... a lot. But I don't want to live in someone else's shadow. And I just think the whole thing would end in a disaster..."

"What're you talking about, Y/N?"

"Peggy. Your first and only love. I can't measure upto her, not in my wildest dreams, there's no use trying."

"Why would you have to measure upto Peggy?"

You opened your mouth to answer, but couldn't really come up with an answer. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I did have feelings for her, but that was a long time ago. I'm happy she lived her life, it just wasn't meant to be."

"So, you're not still in love with her?"

"No," he shook his head, "I wouldn't have asked you out if I was."

"Well, what about Crystal? You were practically glued to her the entire evening!" you huffed as you stomped your foot. Mad at your own stupidity. You could've simply told him the truth and asked for a straight answer. "I have to warn you, she had was pretty crazy in the last season."

"Last season?"

"Mm-hm, the last season of her reality show, I've seen all eight seasons. Maybe they just amp up the drama, maybe she isn't actually crazy, I wouldn't know," you shrugged.

"Doll," he smirked, circling a hand around your waist and pulling you into him, "are you jealous?"

"I am not!" you gasped, looking away from his eyes as you felt your cheeks heat up.

"I don't want anyone but you. Why would I? You're goddamn perfect. And... I want you to be my girl."

"I guess I don't really have a reason to say no now..." you murmured, your face still flustered as you played with the buttons on his shirt before he tilted your chin up to make you look at him, placing his lips over yours in the most tender of kisses.

"Got the job done, Tones... I'm pretty sure I saw him go after her, I have to say though, you look at Captain America, and you really don't expect him to be that awkward..." Crystal said as she sipped on her gin and tonic. "You owe me."

Tony only hummed, not too happy about being indebted to someone, but you both needed a necessary push in the right direction.

[sondepoch]

One Night (Marius x Reader)

Teaching a Billionaire to Touch Grass (And a Minimum Wage Worker to Treat Herself)

Marius clicks his tongue in annoyance, both at you and the cars around him. Why are there so many people on the road at 2:38 in the morning? Why did the GPS's projected time to get to your home just double? Why is the universe out to get him today, on the one night Marius thought he could catch a break?

“Okay,” he seethes, drumming his fingers on the wheel as the traffic around him grows impossible slower. He doesn’t look at you as he speaks. “We’re going to talk about how inappropriate this was.”

“I—I’m really sorry, Sir, I—”

“I’m not asking for an apology.” Maybe he is, actually. Marius is too pissed to be sure. “What I want to know is why you thought it was okay to call me, of all people.”

MASTERLIST

The car is silent. 

As Marius gets inside, he thinks that this might be the first time he’s not opening the passenger door seat for a lady partner, the first time he’s allowed himself to stalk straight into the driver's seat and angrily wait for his passenger to enter on their own.

Actually, he thinks, this is also the first time in years that he's actually driving. The first time someone managed to call for him so late that even his chauffeur was off-duty.

“I’m really sorry about this, Sir,” you mumble as you climb into the seat next to him, apologies never halting as you ramble on and on and on like an idiot who can't read a room. “I, ah, didn’t think this would happen, I'm so…”

Marius ignores you.

He glances out the passenger window and catches Darius Morgan’s equally-annoyed gaze. Seriously? the man seems to be asking, an unimpressed look crossed over his face as he eyes you through the car window. I don’t fucking know, Marius’s gaze says back, and he shakes his head the slightest as he starts the car.

“What’s your address?” he asks, interrupting your apologies. Propriety should make him feel somewhat embarrassed over the way he's acting,  but he can’t bring himself to be even a little polite right now.

“It’s by the Harbor. Um, if you go straight on Main Street and turn right at the—”

“Forget it,” Marius interrupts you. He taps the small car screen on his right, opening up the GPS interface. “Just type it in. I’ll drop you off.”

Your face falls at his irate voice, but you wisely don't comment on it, instead typing in your address as he asked. He watches you cautiously the whole time, for once not caring about the performance anxiety his gaze naturally brings to everyone he looks at. To your merit, you don't mess up anymore than you already have, deft fingers moving with the preciseness he’s used to seeing from you, but the skill can hardly impress him after you called him to pick you up from here, of all places. As the GPS routing sequence activates, Marius lets out an annoyed huff. This is not where he wanted to be right now.

Then, the car hums to life as he presses down on the accelerator, and he’s speeding in the direction of your home, trying to abandon his anger with the jailhouse the two of you are leaving.

I should be at home right now, he thinks as he moves onto the highway. He thinks about how long it had taken for him to coordinate this night off from Vyn’s tutoring sessions, Pax’s board meetings, his schoolwork, and the NXX’s meetings. I should be sleeping, or painting, or calling Rosa, or—

“Fuck,” he mutters when traffic begins to slow down. 

He’s in a traffic jam.

So much for sleeping. And painting. And calling Rosa. 

He clicks his tongue in annoyance, both at you and the cars around him. Why are there so many people on the road at—Marius glances at the car’s dashboard—2:38 in the morning? Why did the GPS's projected time to get to your home just double? Why is the universe out to get him today, on the one night Marius thought he could catch a break?

“Okay,” he seethes, drumming his fingers on the wheel as the traffic around him grows impossible slower. He doesn’t look at you as he speaks. “We’re going to talk about how inappropriate this was.”

“I—I’m really sorry, Sir, I—”

“I’m not asking for an apology.” Maybe he is, actually. Marius is too pissed to be sure. “What I want to know is why you thought it was okay to call me, of all people.”

He keeps his glare fixated on the road, knowing that if he shoots you with the same thunderous look he uses to fire people, you’ll probably be too terrified to speak. Still, when you finally start talking, he can sense the fear in your voice.

His grip on the steering wheel softens the slightest.

“I, ah, initially was planning on calling Mr. Vincent. But he—”

“Really?” Marius snaps. “You’re his assistant, right?” Marius thinks back to all the times he stalked into Pax Headquarters only to see Vincent there with his morning coffee in hand and you, always three feet behind, holding Vincent’s work files. The Board of Directors criticized Marius for allowing his assistant to have an assistant, but never did he imagine you to be so…

Incompetent, he wants to say. Foolish might be a better word for it, though.

“Ah, yes. His administrative assistant.”

“And you want me to believe,” Marius huffs, “That the first person you wanted to call to bail you out of jail was the man you’re an administrative assistant to?”

Traffic gets ever slower, and Marius’s car rolls to a complete stop.

“Yes,” you whisper, and you start wringing your fingers in a manner so sheepish that Marius almost wants to believe you. Almost. “I, ah, was going to call him first. But then I remembered that his vacation started last night and that he’s already left Stellis. So I figured that if I called him, he’d just call you, so I…”

He wouldn’t call me, Marius thinks. Vincent is smart enough to find someone else to pick you up from jail. Regular people don’t ask these kinds of favors from their boss. Especially not from their boss's boss.

“Do you know that people usually ask their friends for these things?” Marius asks. Some of his anger seeps away when he realizes how apologetic you actually are, and he moves forward in traffic the slightest. “Or family, perhaps. What you did was…” Marius tries to find a kinder word than completely inappropriate. “Was highly unusual.” He sighs. “Why didn’t you ask someone else?”

He stares at you through the corner of his eye. You’re pursing your lips, holding back tears. Again, his gaze softens.

“I don't have anyone else,” you whisper.

Marius thinks it’s strange for you to imply that you even have him, especially when he’s nothing more to you than a high-level corporate executive, one that you’ve never spoken directly to in your entire life, but he doesn’t press you any further.

Releasing the final remnants of his anger in a soft sigh, he switches lanes and decides to pull into the nearest exit.

“Darius said you were in that cell since yesterday afternoon. You haven’t had dinner yet, right?”

“No, but…”

“This traffic isn’t going anywhere. We may as well get you something to eat.”

He exits easily, pulling into a district of Stellis that he’s never been in before, and ignores your quiet sniffle. 

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Earlier, he was ignoring you out of spite. Now, he doesn’t respond because he wants to preserve your dignity.

As he focuses his attention on the district he's pulled to, ignoring the GPS which vehemently opposes everything he's doing, Marius realizes that he's pulled into a rather poor sector of Stellis. It’s filled with unhealthy fast food joints, late-night drunkards, and a bunch of loiterers who are eyeing his high-end car suspiciously.

After driving around and surveying the options, Marius sighs. 

“The only places open are these fast-food restaurants,” he says, cleanly leaving out the option of getting food from a club or anywhere else a tabloid might be able to snap a picture. “Are you okay with that?”

“Yeah!” you chirp, and Marius finds that your smile is oddly sweet. “Ah, would you be okay with that one over there? I go there a lot, and their food is...better than other fast food places.” 

Marius squints at you for a moment. He tries to recall your salary, and when he fails, he thinks of Vincent’s. Surely, you make a similar wage? You shouldn’t need to frequent fast-food restaurants like this, right?

Shaking his head, he decides not to ask about it. Things like where you eat are your business, not his, and it’s not his place to question you on your personal decisions.

He pulls up to the drive-through, somewhat relieved to find that the dine-in option isn’t even available at this hour, and lets you order whatever you want. You end up taking a meager meal, one that Marius doubts will actually fill your stomach when he can hear it growling so loudly, so when you turn to him and ask what he’ll get, he orders some fries in hopes that he can hand them off to you in case you’re still hungry. 

Minutes later, the two of you are parked on the side of the road with your respective meals in your laps. Only once you’ve finished (and after Marius is starting to pawn his fries off to you, finding that they’re rather unappealing to his pallette) does he think it’s appropriate to actually breach the subject of why you were tossed in jail.

“So,” he drawls, listening to the cool hum of the air conditioner. “Drugs, huh?”

He hears you choke on a fry.

“Th-they weren’t mine!” you blurt. “Honest, Sir, they—”

“Relax,” he says, eyes flitting down. “I’m not going to have you fired over this. Vincent wouldn’t want that. If anything, the court will decide.”

You relax a little at that, but Marius can sense that you’re still on edge.

“I...appreciate that a lot, Sir. But, really, the drugs weren’t mine. I—I’m sure there’s video evidence to prove that. I was just coming home from work when a kid told me to hold onto this bag, and—”

Marius lifts an eyebrow. He may be out of touch with the realities of the common class, but even he knows how ridiculous your story is.

“I didn’t take it, though! He handed it to me and I put it on the ground! But...but an officer saw me put it on the ground and assumed it was mine...and then...you know what happened.”

Marius sighs. You've always been a good, low-profile worker. He has no reason to believe that you'd get involved with anything bad: but he can't help but doubt you. When he next speaks, his voice is laced with hesitance. “Is there anything to prove your innocence? Pax can help get you a good lawyer, but without evidence, it’ll—”

“There is!” Your eyes are too determined to be anything other than sincere. “Or, ah, there should be. It happened right outside my apartment. I’m sure someone there has surveillance footage of what happened.”

Marius ignores the quiet “hopefully” you add to the end of that. 

“Alright,” he says, deciding that it’s not his place to decide whether or not he believes your story. “Tell me how you got my private number, then. Pax employees shouldn’t have access to that information.”

“Oh, ah…”

Your gaze turns sheepish. Marius grows even more interested in your response.

“Mr. Vincent had it written down a couple months ago. I accidentally saw it. I tried to forget, but…”

You seem to be kicking yourself over the blunder, but Marius is impressed. A mind that can remember something months after having seen it only once is a valuable thing, he thinks. It’s a waste for someone with your brain to be working as a mere assistant’s assistant.

“I’m really—”

“It’s okay,” Marius says. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m...not mad at you.”

And somehow, he really isn’t angry anymore.

The two of you finish your meal soon enough, Marius having successfully pressed his fries into your hands. It seems that you really are hungry because you down those in a manner of minutes, and the man almost regrets not having ordered more when he hears your stomach still grumbling beneath the hum of the car as he returns to the highway.

As Marius lets the GPS guide him back onto Stellis’s most frequented roads, he’s pleasantly surprised to find that all traffic is gone. He speeds down the road with a renewed vigor, somehow sidestepping the usual sleepiness that overcomes him during these kinds of drives with your idle commentary of the road, little mentions of “I once saw a turtle here” and “there used to be four lanes here, but they changed it to five” and “this mile-post had the wrong number on it for years before I reported it and highway patrol got it changed.”

If anything, there’s a faint smile on his face when he finally pulls off the freeway, almost amused by your quiet chit-chat. 

“Is this the right neighborhood?” Marius asks as he pulls into one of Stellis’s residential districts. 

“Yeah, it’s just a little further down.” You gather your purse in your lap and thank Marius for the umpteenth time.

“It's okay,” he says, slowing down. The apartments are looking poorer, now, dingier, but he tries not to let that show on his face. “Is it here?”

“Right at the end of the street,” you say, and with only a mildly concerned look on his face, Marius drives you further down the road.

His eyebrows furrow as he realizes what kind of neighborhood you live in, and he wonders if your wage truly is so poor that you have to live here, of all places. The apartment complexes here are unrenovated, a disappointing amount of them sporting broken glass or graffiti on them. Litter covers the grounds, and even in the thick, 3-AM darkness, Marius can make out hundreds of beer cans scattered across the lawns. Bushes are either dying or overgrown, and there are cigarette butts everywhere. 

Marius realizes that between his suit, his car, and his three earrings, he might have more money on him than everyone who lives here combined.

“Which...which of these apartments is yours?”

He looks around warily, quietly hoping that you’ll say it’s none of them.

“Ah, it’s the first window on the second floor of that…” you trail off as your pointer finger lands on an apartment where all lights are lit—and three masked figures stand illuminated, clearly ransacking your house.

“Oh my god,” Marius blurts, already getting his phone out. “You’re getting robbed, what the—”

“No, no!” You’re quick to place a hand on Marius’s arm before he can dial Emergency Services. “Those are, ah, just the neighborhood boys. They...they do bad things, but they’re good kids. Don’t worry. I’ll chase them out in no time, you don’t have to—”

“Are you serious?” Marius asks, dumbfounded. “This—how can you go back to a home like that? You could die, or—or—”

“Sir,” you say, looking him in the eyes with more seriousness than he’s seen from you this entire night. “With all due respect, this is the best I can afford.”

Marius falls silent at that.

You open the door silently, casting your eyes down. “Thank you again for everything,” you murmur. “I...I really appreciate it. I’ll do my best to make sure it never happens again.”

But then, Marius thinks about the weak story you gave to him earlier, where you claimed that someone handed you drugs and then left you with them, and he wonders whether it might have actually been true. Whether this neighborhood, with its burglars and alcoholism and litter, could actually present you with that reality. Whether something like that may happen again to you, or, worse, Marius thinks as he glances back into your apartment at the three masked robbers, if you could actually get hurt.

Against all better judgment, his arm snaps out. He grips your wrist instantly, not thinking about propriety or class divisions or economic status or anything other than you, one of his company’s employees, and your safety.

“Don’t go there,” he blurts. When he realizes that you’re not tearing your arm free of him, he speaks again. “At least, not while they’re there. I’ll come back here with you tomorrow to make sure you can return in a safe environment, and—”

“Sir, I can’t just get a hotel or—”

“I have two guest bedrooms. You can take your pick. Just—ah—” Marius glances out the window at the poor neighborhood you live in, and he winces. “I can’t let you go home to this. Not...not while there are robbers in your house. Please understand.”

“This...this kind of problem doesn’t just go away,” you mumble, but Marius relaxes when he sees your grip on the door loosen. “And besides, it really wouldn’t be appropriate for me to stay in your apartment.”

“Most people wouldn’t call it appropriate to call your company’s CEO to bail you out of jail,” Marius jokes, but the humor of it is lost on you.

“I…”

Your face falls.

“A—that was a joke,” Marius stutters. “I was joking.”

“Right.”

The atmosphere of the car goes awkward, made even worse by the GPS’s automated reminder that your destination is on the left, but the more Marius looks out his window, the more he decides that he can’t possibly let you return to this apartment. He’ll give you a raise if he has to, but this is something no one should be subject to.

“Alright,” you finally relent after Marius makes it clear that he won’t speak unless it’s to plead with you more. “Just for one night.”

“Just for one night,” Marius agrees, already planning how he can make sure that you have a better home to return to than this one for all future nights to come.

[justcourttee]

Adrien asks mari out and she says i would of been so happy in the past but now its too little to late. She's engaged to Damian but they haven't announced it yet

Bittersweet

It had been a while since Adrien had found himself in Gotham City. Too many years to count on his hand. Yet when he received an invite from Marinette he didn’t hesitate to hop on the next flight to attend her gala.

He had no idea that she had created a partnership with Wayne Enterprises, in fact, he had no idea they were interested in the fashion world at all. Then again, why should he be surprised? When Marinette put her mind to something, nothing would get in her way.

Ever since he had taken over his father’s company, Adrien hadn’t had much time to keep up with his old school friends but it hadn’t stopped them from trying to keep him in the loop. From what he could gather, Alya and Nino would also be attending, Rose and Juleka too. It would be nice to see them all again, especially Marinette.

Stepping out from the warmth of his hotel room and into the cool streets, Adrien couldn’t help but let his mind drift to thoughts of her.

It took Marinette moving to the States for him to realize how much he was in love with her. It was something he never wanted to admit seeing how much he adored Ladybug, but as she disappeared from his grasps, he was left to face his true feelings.

Glancing at his phone, Adrien confirmed that he was mere minutes away from the address she had listed. The gala was still a few days away, but Marinette asked if he had wanted to meet up for a late-night coffee, a Gotham specialty. Even her scarf that she had gifted him ages ago couldn’t hide the red on his cheeks as he imagined the perfect date with the girl of his dreams.

He paused, reaching the door of Deja Brew, his heart beating a million miles a minute. Somewhere in this late-night shop was his best friend. How would she react to seeing him again? Would she be as excited as he was? Would she feel the same way as she did?

Taking a deep breath, he pushed through the door, his eyes glancing through the scattered exhausted customers until they landed on her. She still hadn’t noticed his presence, her nose buried into her sketchbook, her coffee still steaming beside her seemingly untouched.

She was early.

The thought almost drew a laugh as he approached the counter to place his order. Of course she would have finally picked up some time management skills by now. Marinette was 27 and slowly making a name for herself as the future of the fashion industry. That wasn’t something accomplished by constant tardiness.

He picked up his cup, placing a ten into the tip jar, the hostess’ raised eyebrows making him smile. He could already hear his father scolding him. After all, that wasn’t the way to becoming a billionaire. You only make money by holding onto it.

Honestly, Adrien didn’t understand why he had to be a billionaire. His father said it would raise the bar for their line, but it just wasn’t in Adrien’s heart to hoard all of the money unnecessarily. Maybe the Waynes offered Marinette the same advice. Maybe they had something they could relate to together.

“Excuse me ma’am, is this seat taken?”

His heart had finally slowed down but as her eyes slowly peeked up at him under her lashes, it immediately began somersaulting once more.

“Oh Gods, Adrien!” She was out of her seat before he even had the chance to set down his coffee, her arms flung around his neck. He hoped and prayed she couldn’t feel his chest threatening to explode. “You should have said something! I’ve gotten into the bad habit of zoning out in public places.”

Her smile was blinding as she unwound herself, slipping back into her seat, motioning for him to sit as well.

“How was the flight? Did you fly private or first class?”

Adrien gasped, his hand covering his chest as if she had shot him.

“I only flew business thank you very much.” Marinette’s look of mock disbelief earned a small chuckle.

“That must have been so hard for you. I really am sorry you went through so much trouble for my sake.”

“You know, I would go through so much more for you Marinette.”

Her smile faltered for a moment, so quick that if he hadn’t been staring so hard at her, he might have missed it. Did his statement make her uncomfortable? He had only meant it jokingly with the truth laced in, but he was sure his eyes gave him away. They always softened when it came to her.

Marinette cleared her voice, her true smile shining once more as if the falter never happened in the first place.

“You’ve missed so much, I don’t even know where to start.”

“How about from the beginning?” She nodded as she dove into her move to the States and how she began as an intern for the CEO, Tim Drake, years ago and slowly worked her way up to personal assistant.

She recounted how Tim found her sketchbook at work one day and showed it to his father. Together they agreed that she was their way into the fashion industry, an investment that could open the door to many more jobs for the Gotham citizens.

It took two years, but she finally had a full line that was presented at Bruce’s first fashion show.

“So many big names were there Adrien! I really thought I was gonna faint!”

His smile became softer and softer as she recounted meeting the rest of the Waynes and finally after six long years, she had made enough of a name for herself to be holding her own official Gala, the Wayne’s simply a sponsor.

“That’s amazing Marinette, you’re amazing.”

She beamed proudly, her smile pulling at his heart.

“I couldn’t have done it without them. They are genuine and kind people and they are pretty much family.” Something glistened in her eyes as she spoke of them. It could have been obvious to anyone, Marinette cared so deeply for these people.

It was Adrien’s turn to falter as an ugly thought passed.

She’s so comfortable here, she would never want to come back to Paris with me.

He was shocked with himself. This was no time for jealousy. His best friend, the love of his life, was excitedly telling him about a future she had built for herself and the only thing he could think was that it was an obstacle keeping her from him?

Adrien desperately wanted to smack his own forehead, but for Marinette’s sake he straightened out his smile instead.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve only been talking about myself! What’s new with you? How’s your dad’s business? Do you have anyone you’re seeing?”

His eyebrow raised at the last question. She asked the question he so desperately wanted to ask her. And she did it so casually, equating it to his work and social life. Did that mean she was also fishing for his response?

“Nothing much. Dad wants to move from a multi-million dollar business to a multi-billion dollar business so he’s been pretty aggressive about money lately. He didn’t even want me flying over here for the gala.”

Marinette snorted much to his amusement. She knew how his dad was and how petty he could be as well.

“And as for your last question,” he paused watching her face carefully. “No, I am not seeing anyone.”

He waited for the reaction, any reaction really. But none came. Instead, she simply nodded as if she expected as much. Maybe he had read into it too much. She really could’ve just been asking for the sake of catching up. Should he ask too? Was that what she was leading up to?

Adrien cleared his throat before taking a long draw from his cup. This was so nerve wracking. She looked so content, so grown. This was a Marinette who had grown leaps and bounds while he was still stuck in this high school romance that was quite possibly one-sided.

“Well, I hate to cut it short but it’s going to be a long day tomorrow and Damian will be here any moment to pick me up.”

She slid out of her seat so effortlessly, her sketch book snapping shut before it disappeared into a bag that he hadn’t even noticed. Her smile was just as warm as he remembered, but something was missing from the girl he loved.

“Your eyes.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Marinette’s smile faltered as she tentatively reached up to touch her eyelid, confusion etching it’s way into her face.

“Is there something near my eyes Adrien?”

“No, no, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I just-” Adrien bit his lip, trying to string his thoughts together before he sounded even more like an idiot. “You used to stare at me with such soft look. I’m sorry I never noticed, but once I did, it was all I could see. Yet now-”

He trailed off as her lips drew into an o, her hand moving slowly from her eye to her lips, trying to hide her shock.

“-now, I can still feel the love in them, love directed at me, but it’s not the same love is it?”

She looked like she wanted to say something, but she couldn't find the right words. He knew she was trying to explain that he was wrong, but couldn’t bring herself to lie. It was the only confirmation he needed.

He slid out of the booth, his hand grasping the scarf slipping from his neck.

“Marinette, I was so excited when you invited me out tonight. In fact, I thought of it as a date.” She tried to reach out, but Adrien took a step back, tears brimming in his eyes. “I don’t blame you at all, please don’t think I’m saying all this to make you feel guilty. I just had to get it off my chest.”

Adrien blinked hard, trying to spill the tears clouding his vision. This was harder to say than he thought. Her eyes were so distracting, the sympathy oozing toward him in waves.

“I love you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I know you’ve made your life here and I would never dream of taking that from you. Hell, if you asked me to, I would drop everything to be at your side in an instance. Is there any chance at all that after the gala ends, we could give this a shot? Just one real date. Not some deluded fantasy I created in my head, but something we both consent to.”

He flinched when her hand finally made contact with his upper arm.

“Adrien, I love you. I really do. But you were right when you said my eyes had changed. That soft look is meant for someone else now. He and I had tried to keep our relationship quiet, but tomorrow at the gala, I was going to announce my engagement to Damian.”

Adrien couldn’t help the small sob that left his mouth. He was painfully aware of the few scattered glances all directed toward him, but he couldn’t help it. He felt Marinette pulling his head down until it laid resting on her shoulder, her small arms wrapping around his figure. It was embarrassing how hard he cried, unable to hold back his sobs any longer.

“I’m so sorry Adrien, I had no idea your feelings had changed. You were always chasing after a dream when we were younger and when I left Paris, I had finally decided that there wasn’t a chance after all between us.”

He knew she meant her words as a comfort, a promise that at one point, she would have gladly accepted his offer. Why couldn’t he have seen it earlier? Why was he so blinded by a partner who never even revealed herself right to the end? He had someone who trusted and loved him with all of their being and he ignored their feelings for a what if.

Adrien slowly pulled himself from her grasp, his smile shaky. He took a moment to use the end of his scarf to dry his soaked face.

“I’m glad you told me that Marinette. I really am. And I hope you and Damian have a long and prosperous life together.”

Her eyes widened, her mouth forming the wait, but he was already out of the door, running. It was a cowards move, one he would mull over all night. But it was too painful to look into the eyes of one you love and only find pity reflecting in them.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“So you came?”

Adrien turned, his smile bittersweet as he embraced Alya, his fist connecting with Nino’s outstretched hand.

“How could I not support her? She’s worked so hard to make this a reality. My feelings can take a backburner for one night.”Their eyes all trailed to the center of the room where she stood, her arm threaded through with the man he assumed to be Damian Wayne. “Besides, you can tell. She loves that man beside her more than anything in this world.”

The glint of the ring on her finger caused an aching in his heart. Despite it all, he really did wish the Wayne boy no ill will. If he was who Marinette chose to spend the rest of her life with, then Adrien trusted her decision.

“I’ve never seen her smile so bright. And to think, I used to believe her smile was at its maximum blindlingness.” Nino’s chuckle earned a small chuckle from Adrien as well.

There was no denying it.

Marinette was where she belonged. The only thing left was for him to support her in any way that he could. And that was exactly what he planned to do.

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[qqueenofhades]

Re: the post you reblogged about Bush. I'm 21 and tbh feel like I can only vote for Bernie, can you explain if/why I shouldn't? Thanks and sorry if this is dumb or anything.

Oh boy. Okay, I’ll do my best here. Note that a) this will get long, and b) I’m old, Tired, and I‘m pretty sure my brain tried to kill me last night. Since by nature I am sure I will say something Controversial ™, if anyone reads this and feels a deep urge to inform me that I am Wrong, just… mark it down as me being Wrong and move on with your life. But also, really, you should read this and hopefully think about it. Because while I’m glad you asked this question, it feels like there’s a lot in your cohort who won’t, and that worries me. A lot.

First, not to sound utterly old-woman-in-a-rocking-chair ancient, people who came of age/are only old enough to have Obama be the first president that they really remember have no idea how good they had it. The world was falling the fuck apart in 2008 (not coincidentally, after 8 years of Bush). We came within a flicker of the permanent collapse of the global economy. The War on Terror was in full roar, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were at their height, we had Dick Cheney as the cartoon supervillain before we had any of Trump’s cohort, and this was before Chelsea Manning or Edward Snowden had exposed the extent of NSA/CIA intelligence-gathering/American excesses or there was any kind of public debate around the fact that we were all surveilled all the time. And the fact that a brown guy named Barack Hussein Obama was elected in this climate seems, and still seems tbh, kind of amazing. And Obama was certainly not a Perfect President ™. He had to scale back a lot of planned initiatives, he is notorious for expanding the drone strike/extrajudicial assassination program, he still subscribed to the overall principles of neoliberalism and American exceptionalism, etc etc. There is valid criticism to be made as to how the hopey-changey optimistic rhetoric stacked up against the hard realities of political office. And yet…. at this point, given what we’re seeing from the White House on a daily basis, the depth of the parallel universe/double standards is absurd.

Because here’s the thing. Obama, his entire family, and his entire administration had to be personally/ethically flawless the whole time (and they managed that – not one scandal or arrest in eight years, against the legions of Trumpistas now being convicted) because of the absolute frothing depths of Republican hatred, racial conspiracy theories, and obstruction against him. (Remember Merrick Garland and how Mitch McConnell got away with that, and now we have Gorsuch and Kavanaugh on the Supreme Court? Because I remember that). If Obama had pulled one-tenth of the shit, one-twentieth of the shit that the Trump administration does every day, he would be gone. It also meant that people who only remember Obama think he was typical for an American president, and he wasn’t. Since about… Jimmy Carter, and definitely since Ronald Reagan, the American people have gone for the Trump model a lot more than the Obama model. Whatever your opinion on his politics or character, Obama was a constitutional law professor, a community activist, a neighborhood organizer and brilliant Ivy League intellectual who used to randomly lie awake at night thinking about income inequality. Americans don’t value intellectualism in their politicians; they just don’t. They don’t like thinking that “the elites” are smarter than them. They like the folksy populist who seems fun to have a beer with, and Reagan/Bush Senior/Clinton/Bush Junior sold this persona as hard as they possibly could. As noted in said post, Bush Junior (or Shrub as the late, great Molly Ivins memorably dubbed him) was Trump Lite but from a long-established political family who could operate like an outwardly civilized human.

The point is: when you think Obama was relatively normal (which, again, he wasn’t, for any number of reasons) and not the outlier in a much larger pattern of catastrophic damage that has been accelerated since, again, the 1980s (oh Ronnie Raygun, how you lastingly fucked us!), you miss the overall context in which this, and which Trump, happened. Like most left-wingers, I don’t agree with Obama’s recent and baffling decision to insert himself into the 2020 race and warn the Democratic candidates against being too progressive or whatever he was on about. I think he was giving into the same fear that appears to be motivating the remaining chunk of Joe Biden’s support: that middle/working-class white America won’t go for anything too wild or that might sniff of Socialism, and that Uncle Joe, recalled fondly as said folksy populist and the internet’s favorite meme grandfather from his time as VP, could pick up the votes that went to Trump last time. And that by nature, no one else can.

The underlying belief is that these white voters just can’t support anything too “un-American,” and that by pushing too hard left, Democratic candidates risk handing Trump a second term. Again: I don’t agree and I think he was mistaken in saying it. But I also can’t say that Obama of all people doesn’t know exactly the strength of the political machine operating against the Democratic Party and the progressive agenda as a whole, because he ran headfirst into it for eight years. The fact that he managed to pass any of his legislative agenda, usually before the Tea Party became a thing in 2010, is because Democrats controlled the House and Senate for the first two years of his first term. He was not perfect, but it was clear that he really did care (just look up the pictures of him with kids). He installed smart, efficient, and scandal-free people to do jobs they were qualified for. He gave us Elena Kagan and Sonia Sotomayor to join RBG on the Supreme Court. All of this seems… like a dream.

That said: here we are in a place where Biden, Bernie Sanders, and Elizabeth Warren are the front-runners for the Democratic nomination (and apparently Pete Buttigieg is getting some airplay as a dark horse candidate, which… whatever). The appeal of Biden is discussed above, and he sure as hell is not my favored candidate (frankly, I wish he’d just quit). But Sanders and Warren are 85% - 95% similar in their policy platforms. The fact that Michael “50 Billion Dollar Fortune” Bloomberg started rattling his chains about running for president is because either a Sanders or Warren presidency terrifies the outrageously exploitative billionaire capitalist oligarchy that runs this country and has been allowed to proceed essentially however the fuck they like since… you guessed it, the 1980s, the era of voodoo economics, deregulation, and the free market above all. Warren just happens to be ten years younger than Sanders and female, and Sanders’ age is not insignificant. He’s 80 years old and just had a heart attack, and there’s still a year to go to the election. It’s also more than a little eye-rolling to describe him as the only progressive candidate in the race, when he’s an old white man (however much we like and approve of his policy positions). And here’s the thing, which I think is a big part of the reason why this polarized ideological purity internet leftist culture mistrusts Warren:

She may have changed her mind on things in the past.

Scary, right? I sound like I’m being facetious, but I’m not. An argument I had to read with my own two eyes on this godforsaken hellsite was that since Warren became a Democrat around the time Clinton signed Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, she sekritly hated gay people and might still be a corporate sellout, so on and etcetera. (And don’t even get me STARTED on the fact that DADT, coming a few years after the height of the AIDS crisis which was considered God’s Judgment of the Icky Gays, was the best Clinton could realistically hope to achieve, but this smacks of White Gay Syndrome anyway and that is a whole other kettle of fish.) Bernie has always demonstrably been a democratic socialist, and: good for him. I’m serious. But because there’s the chance that Warren might not have thought exactly as she does now at any point in her life, the hysterical and paranoid left-wing elements don’t trust that she might not still secretly do so. (Zomgz!) It’s the same element that’s feeding cancel culture and “wokeness.” Nobody can be allowed to have shifted or grown in their opinions or, like a functional, thoughtful, non-insane adult, changed their beliefs when presented with compelling evidence to the contrary. To the ideological hordes, any hint of uncertainty or past failure to completely toe the line is tantamount to heresy. Any evidence of any other belief except The Correct One means that this person is functionally as bad as Trump. And frankly, it’s only the Sanders supporters who, just as in 2016, are threatening to withhold their vote in the general election if their preferred candidate doesn’t win the primary, and indeed seem weirdly proud about it.

OK, boomer Bernie or Buster.

Here’s the thing, the thing, the thing: there is never going to be an American president free of the deeply toxic elements of American ideology. There just won’t be. This country has been built how it has for 250 years, and it’s not gonna change. You are never going to have, at least not in the current system, some dream candidate who gets up there and parrots the left-wing talking points and attacks American imperialism, exceptionalism, ravaging global capitalism, military and oil addiction, etc. They want to be elected as leader of a country that has deeply internalized and taken these things to heart for its entire existence, and most of them believe it to some degree themselves. So this groupthink white liberal mentality where the only acceptable candidate is this Perfect Non-Problematic robot who has only ever had one belief their entire lives and has never ever wavered in their devotion to doctrine has really gotten bad. The Democratic Party would be considered… maybe center/mild left in most other developed countries. It’s not even really left-wing by general standards, and Sanders and Warren are the only two candidates for the nomination who are even willing to go there and explicitly put out policy proposals that challenge the systematic structure of power, oppression, and exploitation of the late-stage capitalist 21st century. Warren has the billionaires fussed, and instead of backing down, she’s doubling down. That’s part of why they’re so scared of her. (And also misogyny, because the world is depressing like that.) She is going head-on after picking a fight with some of the worst people on the planet, who are actively killing the rest of us, and I don’t know about you, but I like that.

Of course: none of this will mean squat if she (or the eventual Democratic winner, who I will vote for regardless of who it is, but as you can probably tell, she’s my ride or die) don’t a) win the White House and then do as they promised on the campaign trail, and b) don’t have a Democratic House and Senate willing to have a backbone and pass the laws. Even Nancy Pelosi, much as she’s otherwise a badass, held off on opening a formal impeachment inquiry into Trump for months out of fear it would benefit him, until the Ukraine thing fell into everyone’s laps. The Democrats are really horrible at sticking together and voting the party line the way Republicans do consistently, because Democrats are big-tent people who like to think of themselves as accepting and tolerant of other views and unwilling to force their members’ hands. The Republicans have no such qualms (and indeed, judging by their enabling of Trump, have no qualms at all). 

The modern American Republican party has become a vehicle for no-holds-barred power for rich white men at the expense of absolutely everything and everyone else, and if your rationale is that you can’t vote for the person opposing Donald Goddamn Trump is that you’re just not vibing with them on the language of that one policy proposal… well, I’m glad that you, White Middle Class Liberal, feel relatively safe that the consequences of that decision won’t affect you personally. Even if we’re due to be out of the Paris Climate Accords one day after the 2020 election, and the issue of climate change now has the most visibility it’s ever had after years of big-business, Republican-led efforts to deny and discredit the science, hey, Secret Corporate Shill, am I right? Can’t trust ‘er. Let’s go have a craft beer.

As has been said before: vote as far left as you want in the primary. Vote your ideology, vote whatever candidate you want, because the only way to make actual, real-world change is to do that. The huge, embedded, all-consuming and horrible system in which we operate is not just going to suddenly be run by fairy dust and happy thoughts overnight. Select candidates that reflect your values exactly, be as picky and ideologically militant as you want. That’s the time to do that! Then when it comes to the general election:

America is a two-party system. It sucks, but that’s the case. Third-party votes, or refraining from voting because “it doesn’t matter” are functionally useless at best and actively harmful at worst.

Either the Democratic candidate or Donald Trump will win the 2020 election.

There is absolutely no length that the Republican/GOP machine, and its malevolent allies elsewhere, will not go to in order to secure a Trump victory. None.

Any talk whatsoever about “progressive values” or any kind of liberal activism, coupled with a course of action that increases the possibility of a Trump victory, is hypocritical at best and actively malicious at worst.

This is why I found the Democratic response to Obama’s “don’t go too wild” comments interesting. Bernie doubled down on the fact that his plans have widespread public support, and he’s right. (Frankly, the fact that Sanders and Warren are polling at the top, and the fact that they’re politicians and would not be crafting these campaign messages if they didn’t know that they were being positively received, says plenty on its own). Warren cleverly highlighted and praised Obama’s accomplishments in office (i.e. the Affordable Care Act) and didn’t say squat about whether she agreed or disagreed with him, then went right back to campaigning about why billionaires suck. And some guy named Julian Castro basically blew Obama off and claimed that “any Democrat” could beat Trump in 2020, just by nature of existing and being non-insane.

This is very dangerous! Do not be Julian Castro!

As I said in my tags on the Bush post: everyone assumed that sensible people would vote for Kerry in 2004. Guess what happened? Yeah, he got Swift Boated. The race between Obama and McCain in 2008, even after those said nightmare years of Bush, was very close until the global crash broke it open in Obama’s favor, and Sarah Palin was an actual disqualifier for a politician being brazenly incompetent and unprepared. (Then again, she was a woman from a remote backwater state, not a billionaire businessman.) In 2012, we thought Corporate MormonBot Mitt Fuggin’ Romney was somehow the worst and most dangerous candidate the Republicans could offer. In 2016, up until Election Day itself, everyone assumed that HRC was a badly flawed candidate but would win anyway. And… we saw how that worked out. Complacency is literally deadly.

I was born when Reagan was still president. I’m just old enough to remember the efforts to impeach Clinton over forcing an intern to give him a BJ in the Oval Office (This led by the same Republicans making Donald Trump into a darling of the evangelical Christian right wing.) I’m definitely old enough to remember 9/11 and how America lost its mind after that, and I remember the Bush years. And, obviously, the contrast with Obama, the swing back toward Trump, and everything that has happened since. We can’t afford to do this again. We’re hanging by a thread as it is, and not just America, but the entire planet.

So yes. By all means, vote for Sanders in the primary. Then when November 3, 2020 rolls around, if you care about literally any of this at all, hold your nose if necessary and vote straight-ticket Democrat, from the president, to the House and Senate, to the state and local offices. I cannot put it more strongly than that.

[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 8

Request: Yes or No

Sam and y/n had more development than y/n and Wanda lmao

~

You crossed your arms as you entered the room, glancing at the older man. You shared a look with Sam and Wanda, taking a seat in between Sam and Vision. You licked your lips, leaning towards Sam.

"What's this about?" You asked quietly, gaze flickering to Tony who sat in a corner.

"If I had to guess.. Probably about what happened in Lagos." Sam replied, glancing at Steve and Natasha. You frowned, looking at the Secretary of State.

"The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt." He began, gaze sweeping over everyone in the room.

"You have.. Fought for us, protected us, risked your lives but while a great many people see you as heroes, there are some who would prefer the term 'vigilantes.'"

"And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?" Natasha asked, studying the older man. You looked back at Tony Stark, making brief eye contact with him. It felt like an intervention. Or a teacher scolding their class after they made the sub cry.

"How about dangerous?" You frowned, looking forward when you heard his words.

"What would you call a group of US based enhanced individuals who routinely ignore borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, quite frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?" Mr. Secretary asked, looking over the small group in disappointed. You'd hate to admit it, but he had a point. The citizens of Sokovia were left to find new homes and the people of Lagos had to fix what had been destroyed. Mr. Secretary stepped to the side, looking at the screen. Videos began playing of all the times the Avengers caused destruction and most likely death. Wanda looked away, growing uncomfortable as the aftermath of the Lagos incident played. She already felt guilty enough about it. She had told you many times how she wished it would've gone differently. Steve noticed, frown deepening.

"That's enough." He called, watching the screen turn off.

"For the last few years, you've operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That's a decision the governments of the world can no longer tolerate." Mr. Secretary told them, hands clasped behind his back. You frowned, brows furrowing slightly.

"But we have a solution." Mr. Secretary took a book from his bodyguard, stepping forward and handing it to Wanda. Wanda picked it up, looking it over.

"The Sokovia Accords.. Approved by a hundred and seventeen countries." Wanda slid the book over to Rhodes so he could take a proper look at it. You looked at Mr. Secretary as he walked around the table.

"It states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they'll operate under the supervision of The United Nations Panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary."

"That's such bullshit." You whispered. Mr. Secretary turned towards you, cocking a brow. Natasha let an amused smile slip while Sam covered up his snicker with a cough.

"The Avengers were created to make the world a safer place." Steve spoke up before he could address you.

"This is the middle ground." Mr. Secretary said, walking to the front again and facing everyone.

"The Accords will be ratified in a couple days." Steve turned towards Tony, earning a silent response.

"I'll leave you to discuss."

"And if we come to a decision you don't like?" Leave it to Natasha to say what was on everyones' minds. Mr. Secretary paused as he approached the door.

"Then you retire." He answered plainly. You watched him leave, picking up the cup of water infront of You You went to take a sip but it turned to ice before you could drink from it. With a small huff, you placed it down.

"That's new." Natasha called with a small smile, hoping to ease the tension in the room. You stood up, leaving the meeting room and heading to the lounge. The others followed, taking more comfortable seats on the couch. A debate quickly started between Rhodes and Sam while Steve looked through the Accords.

"Have you two thought about starting a debate club?" You asked, tapping the frozen water a few times before it finally turned back to normal water. Natasha let out a small snort, chuckling as she shook her head.

"I have an equation." Vision announced, stopping Rhodes and Sam. They turned towards him.

"In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of enhanced people has grown and during the same period, the number of world ending events has risen."

"So, it's Starks' fault?" You asked, leaning back in your seat with a tilted head. Tony scoffed from his spot on the couch, rolling his eyes.

"I'm saying, there might be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge, challenge insights conflict, and conflict... Breeds catastrophe. Oversight is not an idea that should be dismissed."

"I wish I understood half of what you said." You muttered softly, running your finger the leaf of a plant beside the seat. Natasha turned towards Tony, watching him.

"You're being uncharacteristic non-hyper verbal." Natasha pointed out softly as he looked at her with a deep sigh. Steve looked up from the Accords.

"It's cause he already made up his mind." Steve said, earning a small eye roll. Tony slowly sat up, rubbing the back of his head.

"Actually, I'm nursing a headache." He muttered as he stood up, walking towards the coffee machine. He poured himself some coffee and grabbed a bottle of pills before sighing and placing down a device. He showed an image of a young man.

"Oh, that's Charles Spencer, by the way. A great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA, had a floor level gig for the fall. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the people in Sokovia." Tony said, obviously agitated as he looked over everyone. You wondered why he now cared for the people who were injured during attacks.

"He wanted to make a difference although we'll never know cause we dropped a building on him while kicking ass." Everyone stayed silent as he spoke. You watched him take a pill, drinking it with the coffee.

"There's no decision making here. We need to be put in check. Whatever form that takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, we're no better than the bad guys."

"Tony, when someone dies on your watch, you don't give up." Steve closed the Accords, looking at Tony with a frown.

"Who says we're giving up?"

"We are by not taking responsibilities for our actions. This document shifts the blame." Steve voiced his opinion, shrugging lightly.

"Steve, that is dangerously arrogant." Rhodes spoke up, shaking his head. Steve turned towards him.

"This is the United Nations we're talking about. It's not the world security counsel, it's not S.H.I.E.L.D, it's not HYDRA-"

"But it's run by people with agendas and agendas change." Steve pointed out as you rubbed your forehead, sighing softly. Both sides had good points but you sided with Steve. The team was obviously divided.

"What do you think, (Y/N)?" Vision asked, looking at you curiously. You licked your lips, gaze focusing on Tony.

"I'm curious as to why you care so much about this Charles guy. You've had, what was it? Eight years as Iron Man to care about the people who get hurt? Why now? Cause you realized one of those people could become the new you? Would you care this much about Charles if he had been a typical guy? No degree, no plans for the future, just a normal guy working a normal 9 to 5 job and just trying to make it through the week. I agree with Steve. What if something happens and they don't send us to help because it doesn't go with their agenda? People get hurt cause you've never set up a system to help after these things happen. You're a fucking billionaire, Tony. Make a company that's designed to help people get back on their feet after the Avengers bulldoze through cities." You said, legs crossing as you looked over everyone else. Steve gave a small nod, glad you were seeing his side. He checked his phone, abruptly standing and announcing he had to leave. You and the others watched him go in confusion.

"To answer your questions, I do care about normal people." Tony said, arms crossing. You let out a soft groan, leaning back in the couch.

"I'm sorry, what are you? Twelve? Didn't you turn twenty this year?" Tony cocked a brow, watching as you rolled your eyes and stood.

"Yeah, I did turn twenty. Surprised you knew considering you've never particularly liked me."

"Well, first impressions are everything and you did try impaling me with a branch."

"Maybe I should've."

"Alright, boys, let's calm down." Natasha called, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turned and walked towards the steps, heading down to your room at the facility. You entered and plopped down on the bed, running a hand through your hair. You tapped your foot on the ground, fingers going to the root bracelets in an attempt to relax. Wanda opened the door, closing it behind her and sitting beside you.

"What's wrong?" She asked softly, staring at you in concern. You weren't one to snap at others so quickly.

"There's so much going on. The Accords, my fucking powers, the sudden change in Nat and Tony, you possibly getting into trouble cause of the Lagos incident.. That could've been me." You breathed out. Wanda frowned, brows furrowing.

"No, it wouldn't have."

"I shot fire out of my hands and turned water to ice without meaning to. They're getting unpredictable." You looked at her, grip on the roots tightening. Wanda's gaze flickered to the window, making you turn. Part of the window was covered in a thin layer of ice.

"And that just proved my point."

"You're an incredible person, (N/N). Have faith in yourself. You'll gain control of them sooner or later. You have beautiful powers that could change and heal the world." Wanda pointed out gently, having you rest your head on her shoulder. She softly began to hum a lullaby. You didn't understand the words but her soft voice proved to be soothing.

"Thank you."

~~~~~~~~~~

"Why'd you call me again?" You asked, toying with the strings of your hoodie as you looked around the cafe. You had planned on taking a nap and watching a new show on Netflix but it seemed like Steve had other plans for you.

"Because I trust you and need your help." Steve replied, fixing his baseball cap as he tried avoiding eye contact with civilians.

"Really?" You asked softly. Steve nodded, offering a smile. He licked his lips, nodding to the tv. You turned, looking at the news. You really didn't have to considering what they were showing was right down the street.

"Your friend?" You looked back at Steve with a tilted head.

"We gotta find him before anyone else does." Steve said. You nodded, watching him. Steve had been desperately trying to find his friend, Bucky, since the attempt on Furys' life.

"I'll go in alone. We don't want to seem threatening or set him off by going in as a trio."

"(Y/N)? Being threatening? He can't even scare a baby!" Sam said in amusement, shooting you a playful grin.

"Right back at you, bird boy."

"I'm sorry, who here is named after the top bird of prey?" Sam asked, leaning forward slightly as Steve let out an amused sigh.

"Oh, I didn't know you were named after eagles." You responded, smiling in triumph when Sam huffed lightly.

"Come on, you two." Steve chuckled, leaving the cafe and heading down the sidewalk.

"I don't trust Stark." You told them, arms crossing. Sam glanced at you as Steve turned into an alleyway.

"Not surprised considering the little fight you two had."

"I think he had Vis keep an eye on me and Wanda. I snuck out while he was with Wanda in the kitchen." You told him, frowning.

"Firstly, I'm an adult-"

"That's questionable."

"-And secondly, he's not my dad." You took off the hoodie as Steve unlocked a car parked in the alleyway, giving Sam the duffle bag with his outfit. You looked at your phone when it buzzed, seeing texts from Clint.

Clint

Heard you had a fight with Stark

Clint

You're officially an Avenger now

You smiled softly, chuckling softly at the texts. You waited for the guys to finish changing before taking the earpiece from Steve. The apartment building had been nearby so you and Sam headed onto the roof while Steve entered.

"How well do you think this will go?" You asked Sam, looking for any sign of law enforcement.

"Wanna bet?"

"How much?" You looked at him, giving a small grin. Sam looked up at the sky for a moment, thinking it over.

"30 bucks. I bet this will go to shit and this dude will escape."

"I bet we'll get into serious shit but this dude will either come with us or get caught." You replied. Sam stuck out his hand, nodding. You shook it, chuckling softly. You turned your head, noticing movement.

"We've got company, Cap."

"They're approaching from the south." Sam added, attention focused on them. You heard Steve begin to talk to someone, watching the cars pull in and get ready. You turned your head, hearing the door to the roof open.

"Shit." You whispered, letting Sam pick you up and lift you into the air. You could hear the fight going on inside through the earpiece.

"Should we help?" You asked, glancing up at Sam.

"No clue." Sam replied, watching Bucky jump from the apartment onto the roof of another building. You noticed someone running at a high speed, jumping up onto the roof and knocking Bucky down.

"They have cat ears." You mumbled, pushing Sam's arms away.

"Deal with them." You motioned to the German police force on the roof, hoping down onto the roof. You raised your hand, a root shooting out and grabbing the strangers arm, refraining them from clawing at Bucky. Bucky turned his head, making eye contact with you. Your eyes widened when the man grabbed the root, using what felt like super strength to toss you off the roof. You quickly used a root to grab onto the side, breathing out a sigh of relief. Sam took care of a helicopter before flying by to grab you.

"Thanks." You breathed out, holding onto him as he followed the chase. Steve, Bucky, and the cat guy went into one of the tunnels. Sam flew in once there was an opening, trying to help Steve with the cat guy. You huffed when the cat guy grabbed Sam's ankle, pointing your hand at him and shooting a strong gust of air. The cat guy lost his grip monetarily but quickly grabbed on again. Bucky threw up an explosive so Sam quickly stopped, flinging the guy off him. Sam landed, walking past the rubble. You sighed, raising your hands as you and Sam were quickly surrounded by cops.

"Mom's gonna kill me." You whispered.

"That's what you're concerned about?" Sam asked, glancing at you in disbelief.

"We're getting arrested, (Y/N)!"