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#tell all the truth but tell it slant
a-ramblinrose · 6 months
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“But first and foremost, I learned from Whitman that the poem is a temple—or a green field—a place to enter, and in which to feel. Only in a secondary way is it an intellectual thing—an artifact, a moment of seemly and robust wordiness—wonderful as that part of it is. I learned that the poem was made not just to exist, but to speak—to be company.”
― Mary Oliver, Upstream: Selected Essays
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Tell all the truth but tell it slant -
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb surprise
As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind -
Emily Dickinson ~ Tell the Truth but tell it Slant
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Please tell me that "art must have only one meaning/interpretation" is not an actual thing people believe T-T. That... I... it's literally the opposite!!!!
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sweet-prroncito · 7 months
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Based on @susiecarter 's amazing fic that I read two days ago, Tell all the Truth (but tell it slant) 🦇💫
Bc I absolutely adored it and it was mmmmwah, chef's kiss~! ✨️🥺💕
This month I've read a shameful amount of superbat fics, and in all confidence I can say, this one goes in my top 5~
Go make yourself a favor an reAD IT
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planet-dusk · 9 months
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Mirror sex with Hyunjin!! Being able to see his gorgeous face while he fucks you from the back, he's so pretty😩‼️
🏷️ hwang hyunjin x fem!reader. cw ; dom!hyunjin, fuckboy!hyunjin, mirror sex ofc, unprotected sex, dubcon elements, degradation, dirty talk abt forced breeding, pet names: doll, name calling: slut, whore ( 576 w. )
minors dni. for mature audiences only !
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“would you look at that, doll. prettier than any picture.”
he was, of course, referring to the way his cock slid in and out of your slick cunt. his eyes hadn’t left the sight since he’d first buried himself into your tight heat. but your gaze was focused on his face instead: his perfect profile, beautiful features twisted in pleasure.
black strands of hair stuck to his damp skin. if it wasn’t for his large hand pressing down between your shoulder blades you’d attempt to twist around and lick the sharp slant of his jawline.
“filthy slut, letting me hit it raw.” hyunjin punctuated his words with a slap to your ass. you clenched around his cock, every ridge and vein causing delicious friction. you knew he was a fuckboy and you should know better than to have him use you like this… but the memory of his gorgeous face lighting up when he spilled onto your back was enough to throw all care out of the window again.
“bet you wouldn’t even protest if i didn’t pull out.” he wrapped an arm around your torso and lifted you up, your sweaty back pressed against his chest. the change in angle and the risqué suggestion had you gush around him. hyunjin laughed. “i knew it. sluts like you get their brains fucked out once and they turn into cum-hungry whores. what do you think, should i give you what you want?”
“n-no,” you stammered, just lucid enough to know this would be a terrible idea, ignoring the spark of heat in your tummy rearing its ugly head. 
hyunjin hummed and grabbed your chin, tilting your face towards the mirror. 
“do you see my cock? see how wet it is? that’s all on you, doll. you wanted this.”
heat flooded your cheeks at the sight of your bodies tangled together. hyunjin slowed down, pulling out as far as he could. his impressive length glistened with your juices. even if you hadn’t been able to see it the wet sounds would’ve told you enough. you were thoroughly soaking him. 
“hyune, we shouldn’t…“
“we shouldn’t. but we can.”
his hand slipped down to rub circles on your clit, your trembling body fidgeting in his tight grip. for the first time you wished he wasn’t this perceptive. regretted how he could read your body so well. how he left no doubts about feeling your orgasm approaching fast. 
“your mouth’s saying something different than this tight pussy’s telling me.” hyunjin’s hand around your chin moved down to your throat, fingers flexing in time with the fluttering of your cunt around him. “so who’s speaking the truth?” 
“hyun-ah!” you managed to whimper before his fingers found their way into your mouth, effectively silencing your pleading no’s. the twitching of his cock inside you told you he was close, too. it was that thought — the idea of his cum filling you up and leaking down your trembling legs — that pushed you over the edge. 
one, two, three, four thrusts. hyunjin pulled out, white ropes of cum painting your lower back as he stroked himself to completion, your empty pussy clenching around nothing. 
a pang of disappointment rekindled the heat in your gut, embarrassment mixing with the afterglow of your fading orgasm. hyunjin’s dark eyes found yours in the mirror. a smug grin now graced his features and he nipped at your earlobe, his breath hot on your skin. 
“thought so.”
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© planet-dusk do not copy, translate or repost my works.
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thef1diary · 4 months
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Baby Jr | Four
— Meticulous Avoidance
© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work.
Series Masterlist
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pairing: carlos x fem!reader
wc: 2.8k
The sun slants through the blinds, casting elongated shadows across the room. You sit on the edge of the bed, your hands trembling slightly as you stare at the tenth pregnancy test you've taken, still in disbelief.
"No," you murmur as two pink lines stare back at you, confirming what you've been fearing for the past couple days.
You're pregnant.
Carlos's face flashes through your mind, his smile, his touch, the intensity of those nights spent together. It was supposed to be casual, fun, a temporary escape from the reality of the world around you.
While trying to escape reality, you've been hit in the face by it.
You and Carlos were reckless, that was a given, but now you also had to face the consequences of those moments shared.
You attempt to push back the wave of panic threatening to engulf you. Your vision blurs as your eyes fill with tears and your hands tremble, still holding on to the test.
How could this happen? How could you let it happen? What are people going to say? What is he going to say?
Your mind races, trying to grasp onto some semblance of control amidst the chaos of your thoughts. But deep down, you know there's no escaping the truth.
You're carrying Carlos Sainz's child, and everything is about to change.
Rising from the bed, your movements are mechanical, as if you're navigating through a foggy haze.
The room feels suffocating, the walls closing in on you with each passing second. You need air, space, a moment to breathe and collect your thoughts. With trembling steps, you make your way to the window, dropping the pregnancy test on the floor. You push the window open to let in a rush of cool morning air but even the fresh breeze fails to dispel the suffocating sense of unease that grips you.
Outside, the world carries on, oblivious to the turmoil raging within you. Birds chirp in the distance, cars hum along the street below, and somewhere in the distance, the low murmur of voices drifts through the air.
But in this moment, none of it matters. All you can focus on is the life growing inside you, a tiny, fragile being whose existence is now irrevocably intertwined with yours.
You lean against the windowsill, your gaze fixed on the horizon, lost in a maze of swirling thoughts and emotions. Despite how much you try, you cannot stop thinking about the new situation you've found yourself in.
How will you face Carlos? How will you tell him the news? And more importantly, what will his reaction be? The questions echo in your mind, unanswered and unsettling.
But for now, there's only one thing you can do: keep it to yourself. You remind yourself that the next race is two weeks later, offering a temporary reprieve, a brief respite from the inevitable confrontation that looms on the horizon.
As you draw in a steadying breath, you steel yourself for the challenges that lie ahead. Tears still continue to flow from your eyes, but as you peer down at your stomach, you can't help but feel a tinge of hope in between the fear of your future.
As the days pass, the weight of your secret presses down on you like a lead blanket. Every time you meet someone whether it's a stranger or a close friend, you feel the guilt internally shaming you just for keeping the secret to yourself.
You try to bury yourself in work, throwing yourself into your duties as a media personnel with a newfound fervor. You weren't needed at the track since there weren't any races, but you did need to step up the team's media presence and engage with the fans during the brief break.
Although you weren't required to see Carlos in person, your work required you to view the images and videos in which he participated in along with his teammate. You wanted to bury your face in your hands as you watched the videos again because you could hear his laugh and voice.
From considering Carlos as a distraction, now you needed a distraction from him and unfortunately your job did not allow that.
It didn't help that he would still text you, because after all you were still friends before it became physical. He sent you photos of the sunset from whichever country he decided to fly to because you once told him that you loved sunsets.
He was unaware of the turmoil of stress you experienced every time a notification popped up on your phone with his name. Your first thought was that he found out, even though no one else knew the secret but you.
You couldn't ignore his messages or else he would know that something was up, and that was the last thing you wanted him to know especially during the break.
No matter how hard you try to distract yourself, thoughts of Carlos and the impending conversation linger at the edges of your mind, a constant, nagging presence.
Finally, the week of the next race arrives, and with it, the inevitable reunion with Carlos. You stand in the bustling paddock, surrounded by the frenetic energy of the Formula One world. The air is thick with the smell of rubber and gasoline, the sound of engines roaring in the distance while the fans cheered every time they spotted a driver.
As you continue walking through the paddock, you notice a crowd of reporters and fans circling a couple drivers. You couldn't see their faces until you craned your neck, and as soon as you did, you wish you hadn't.
You caught a sight of Carlos in the distance standing alongside Lando which in itself causes an uproar as their friendship is infamous. However, in that moment, you couldn't care less about Lando, instead your eyes were drawn towards Carlos, as always.
He looks every inch the confident, charismatic driver you've come to know, his easy smile and charm putting those around him in a trance.
For a moment, you consider approaching him, but then you wonder what you'd say. It's not like you could tell him the truth in front of the crowd and there was no other topic you could think of.
Instinctively, your palm rests over your womb, and once you realize your actions, you quickly avert your gaze from him, turning away before he can spot you.
You slip into the shadows, dodging behind equipment crates and team trailers as you make your way through the paddock. Every instinct screams at you to run, to hide, to avoid the inevitable confrontation that awaits. And so you do, weaving through the crowds with a practiced ease, your heart pounding in your chest.
But no matter how hard you try to escape, you can't shake the feeling that Carlos is watching you, his eyes boring into your back with an intensity that sends a chill down your spine. You quicken your pace, ducking around a corner and into the relative safety of the media center, where you hope to find refuge from the storm brewing outside.
The noise from outside disperses away which you were thankful for but it only magnified your own thoughts. Fortunately, you spotted Ava but as you walked towards her, you noticed that she was speaking to Charles.
You gave her a nod in acknowledgement when she spotted you and turned to sit at one of the further tables, taking a moment to sigh. She notices the tension in your demeanor, the way your eyes dart nervously around the room, and she can't help but raise her eyebrows in concern.
You offer a tight-lipped smile, attempting to brush off her concern, but Ava isn't one to be easily dissuaded.
She pats Charles' arm and smiles at him before wrapping up the conversation she was having with him. You watched from afar, noticing the easy camaraderie between them, a hint of something more lingering in the air. Perhaps you were just seeing things and overthinking it because you were involved with Carlos.
You discarded that thought as you saw Ava approached you, her gaze filled with genuine concern.
"Hey, everything alright?" she asked, her palm resting on top of your hand.
You nod, "yeah, just a bit stressed with work." You hoped that she wouldn't press further on the matter since she also knew about those stressful days at work, having worked in the same field as you.
But, she furrowed her eyebrows, "is it just work, or is something else bothering you?"
Her gaze fixed on you with a mix of concern and curiosity. The weight of your secret pressed heavily on your chest, each breath feeling more constricted than the last. You toyed with the idea of confiding in her, of sharing the truth that had been gnawing at you for weeks. But the fear of her reaction, of the potential consequences, held you back.
Ava reached out and squeezed your hand, her touch a silent gesture of support. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" she said softly, her voice filled with warmth and understanding.
You nodded, your throat tight with unspoken words. How could you burden her with such a heavy secret? What if she reacted poorly, or worse, felt betrayed by your silence?
But as you looked into Ava's eyes, seeing the genuine concern and compassion reflected there, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope. Maybe she would understand. Maybe she would offer the support and guidance you so desperately needed.
The silence stretched between you, each moment filled with the weight of unspoken truths. Finally, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. "There's something I need to tell you," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's... it's not easy, but I trust you, Ava. And I need you to know."
You had to tell her the whole story, start from the beginning from the night Carlos stopped by your hotel. You reassured your thoughts with a nod, racking your mind for the best way to explain it all.
As you gathered the courage to confide in Ava, Carlos' voice cut through the air, interrupting your moment of vulnerability by calling your name. You turn to see him approaching you, stopping once he reaches the table.
"Hey, can I borrow you for a moment?" he asked, eyes flickering between you and Ava.
You hesitated for a moment, glancing at Ava who gave you a reassuring smile. "I'll catch up with you later, yeah?"
You nod at her before looking at Carlos and standing up. He motioned for you to follow him, down the halls and away from prying eyes. As you walked with him, your mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions — frustration at the interruption, anxiety over why Carlos wanted to see you, and a lingering sense of guilt for keeping secrets from both him and Ava.
When you reached the secluded corner, Carlos turned to face you, his gaze ever so watchful. He had a smirk playing on his lips and for a brief moment it reminded you of the time you spent together before finding out life changing news.
You rolled your eyes once you saw how quickly his expression changed, now only a hint of mischief glinting in his eyes. Yet, you still asked, "why did you need to 'borrow' me?"
Carlos leaned closer, resting his palm against the wall like he's done before, his smirk widening into a playful grin. "Well, I just wanted to see you," he said, his tone laced with amusement.
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise at his unexpected admission. "Just to see me?" you repeated, a hint of skepticism in your tone.
He shrugged and stated, "it's been two weeks since I saw you last."
A rush of conflicting emotions washed over you at his words — relief that he didn't suspect anything, guilt from earlier, and a flicker of something else, something you couldn't put a finger to.
His fingers trailed down the length of your arm, settling on your waist. With his proximity, a sudden wave of nausea washed over you. The scent of his cologne, once familiar and comforting, now felt overwhelming, almost suffocating.
"Carlos, what cologne are you wearing?" you blurted out, unable to mask the discomfort in your voice.
Carlos pulled back slightly, his brows furrowing in concern. "It's the same one I always use," he replied, his tone tinged with confusion. "The one you always liked."
You blinked, trying to push past the nausea and focus on his words. "But it smells...different," you managed to say, your stomach churning with unease.
Carlos' expression softened, his concern deepening as he stepped back but still reached out to steady you. "Are you okay?"
You took a deep breath, trying to quell the rising tide of nausea threatening to overwhelm you. "I think I just need some fresh air," you murmur, your voice shaky.
Without waiting for a response, you hurried away from Carlos, the scent of his cologne still lingering in the air of the hallway like a heavy cloud. You found it odd, as it was never this overpowered to the point where you could smell it from afar, instead it was fairly faint, only smelling it when you were snuggled up next to him in bed.
As you step outside into the cool breeze, you take a moment to collect yourself, the nausea gradually subsiding with each intake of breath.
The fresh air also gave you a sense of clarity, able to think about the situation without it becoming too much to bear.
The realization hit you like a tidal wave — you almost went right back into his arms as if the pregnancy never existed. You would've willingly gone back to your old ways, spending time with him simply because he smiled at you and wanted to see you.
The temptation to bury the truth was strong, to pretend as if nothing changed between you two. But it was wrong, you can't possibly deceive him like that. He would find out one way or another, especially as the months go by and your pregnancy can no longer be hidden.
You softly press your hand against your stomach, a sad smile growing on your face. You wouldn't have to tell him if you didn't plan on keeping the child, but having to live normally again, as if nothing happened, would eat you alive.
Plus, you didn't even think about that option thoroughly, already feeling a blossoming connection to the little life growing in your womb.
You shake your head, discarding such vile thoughts. With a heavy heart, you made a decision to avoid Carlos until you built up the courage to tell him the truth. It wouldn't be easy to tell him right away, because this news could shatter the state of your relationship with him, whether it's friendship or more.
As you returned inside the paddock, you spotted Ava who was rushing around, holding a large stack of items you couldn't see from afar. Watching her hurried movements, you found yourself lost in deep thought again, this time, strategizing how to share the news with her, how to confide in her. The weight of the secret you carried felt unbearable now that you were back at work, and the thought of continuing to hide it from Ava was driving you to the brink of madness.
You consciously straighten your posture, a silent reminder to yourself that you were in a professional setting. The familiar sights and sounds of the workplace surrounded you, pulling you back to reality. Here, amidst the hustle and bustle of the paddock, there was no room for distractions from your personal life. Each moment was precious, each task demanding your full attention and focus. So, with a determined resolve, you pushed aside the turmoil of your personal struggles, channeling your energy into the demands of your professional responsibilities.
As the day wore on, you found yourself avoiding any encounters with Carlos as decided, darting down different corridors and finding excuses to linger in secluded corners whenever you caught a glimpse of him in the distance. It wasn't necessarily hard to avoid him, which made you realize that your job didn't entail being around him as much as he made it out to be. However, it did send a pang of hurt through you every time you heard his laughter or his name uttered by other people.
With each passing hour, you grew more resolved in your decision to keep your distance until you found courage to tell him the truth, after telling Ava.
Speaking of, your phone pinged with a text from her. 'I'm coming over after work, be ready to tell me everything'
Fortunately, the first race after the break was in your home city, which meant that you could show Ava the pregnancy tests you've taken.
The warmth of her friendship offered a glimmer of solace amidst the chaos of the day, and even the past couple weeks, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief at the prospect of confiding in her about everything that had been weighing down on you.
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likeshipsonthesea · 5 months
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you make me
bucktommy ficlet. had a convo about love. had some feelings. gave them to buck. enjoy~
The entire loft is soaked in the hazy blue light of pre-morning. Buck can hear the mechanical thrum of garbage collectors, a handful of singing birds, quiet but steady breathing. His body is sore, from work and then from Tommy, a satisfying reminder of a yesterday well spent. Everything is warm and soft like Saturday morning, even though he's fairly sure it's Tuesday.
The clock on his bedside table tells him it's much too early to get up for a Tuesday, so he turns over to get comfortable and ends up face to face with Tommy's sleep-slacked expression.
Buck watches him in that way that's only creepy if you're not in love. Takes note of his eyelashes resting against the tops of his cheeks, his lips shadowed by the slant of his nose, how the dawning daylight catches on the angles of his face. He wants to touch, but not enough to disturb the serenity of sleep on his boyfriend's face.
Eddie tells him he says that a lot. My boyfriend. "We all know his name," Eddie says, tone harsh but a creeping smirk giving away the joke.
When Buck brought it up with Dr. Copeland, she asked him why he thinks he says it so much, but it was towards the end of their session so they didn't really get into it. Buck thinks it's probably something to do with his self-image problems, or maybe his abandonment issues? Dr. Copeland's better with the answers than he is.
Calling him Tommy is fine, but saying my boyfriend says my meatless lasagna needs more starch just reminds Buck that Tommy's his and, even more novel, Buck is Tommy's.
Buck likes being Tommy's boyfriend.
Tommy's boyfriend knows Tommy's coffee order, and drops it off along with a savory treat for him at the start of a long shift. Tommy's boyfriend always knows exactly where Tommy left his blue-light glasses and grabs them before they head to bed so Tommy can read another chapter of the cheesy historical fiction novel on his tablet. Tommy's boyfriend is the one Tommy goes to after a hard shift, to talk to or hug or just sit in the same room with until the rest of the world is less heavy.
As Tommy's boyfriend, Buck is still all the things he was before--firefighter, brother, friend--but knowing there's someone who trusts him enough to sleep beside him and let him stare at their face like a creeper in the early hours of the morning--there's this unfathomable freedom to it.
It's like--if Tommy loves him, he must be worthy of it. It's a truth and a prophecy, self-fulfilling. It's this ever-turning cycle that bolsters Buck to be the best version of himself, and none of it feels like work because it's all tangled up with joy.
"How long have you been staring at me?"
Buck startles out of his internal monologue to find Tommy's left eye open. The right is buried in his pillow along with the lifted corner of his mouth.
"Probably a little too long," Buck admits, staring fixedly at that corner of Tommy's mouth.
Tommy's lips part to release a sigh before settling into a smile. "Evan. Go back to sleep."
"In a minute."
Tommy shifts closer on the pillow, his nose nudging Buck's, his morning breath awful and his eyes so close Buck thinks their eyelashes might tangle. "You worked a 24-hour shift yesterday. You need to sleep. You can stare at me tomorrow."
"Promise?"
Tommy brushes their lips together. "Promise."
Buck finds Tommy's hand between them and laces their fingers together. "Alright," he says, settling back into the mattress and letting his eyes shut as he brings their hands to his sternum. "Tomorrow."
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hellodarling1357 · 7 months
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Tiny Toes: Part 6.4 - Cassian x Reader
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This went in a completely different direction to what I had planned and basically wrote itself so buckle up for a whole heap of tooth-rotting fluff 🥰
Summary: Birthday Parties + Forgotten Conversations + Family Time
Word Count: 2.6k
You can read the previous part here
It was the day after Ottie’s 3rd birthday party and the three of you were currently sprawled across the living room floor eating left over birthday cake as Ottie lined up all of her presents and did a show-and-tell for you and Cassian.
“This one is from Auntie Elain,” she picked up the beginners gardening set, making sure you both got a good look before putting it down and turning to the next present. “And this is from Uncle Az,” next was a tiny set of Illyrian leathers and a wooden toy sword that was almost an exact replica of Truth Teller, it had left Ottie squealing in excitement upon opening it.
“You are one spoiled little girl, Otts.” Cassian says as he takes in the massive pile of gifts beside her once she had finished going through all of them for the second time that morning, “where are we even going to put all of this?” Ottie just grins at him and nods, yes, she definitely knows how loved she is; Hells, you had even woken up the morning of her birthday to a small bundle of gifts by the front gate that citizens of Velaris had left out for her.
With a sigh you sat up, placing a hand on Cassian’s stretched out leg as you took in the pile of presents and plates littered with cake crumbs.
“How about some actual food?”
Ottie let out a groan, “but there’s still cake that needs to be eaten, it’ll get sad if it’s not in our tummies.”
With a deep chuckle, Cassian pulled himself up to sit beside you, absentmindedly wrapping an arm around your waist as he nudged your foot with his own. “How about we make something really yummy while you play with your new toys, then once we’ve finished eating, we can have more cake?”
With a sceptical look between the two of you, Ottie agreed and was then preoccupied once more as she made her way over to her new paint set that Feyre had gifted her. After a loud groan followed by a stretch as he got to his feet, Cassian stuck out a hand to help pull you off the ground and was then coming up behind you, arms wrapping around your front as you walked into the kitchen together.
“Hi,” he murmured against your ear, keeping his body pressed against your back as you looked around the pantry in search of some food that consisted of some form of nutrients. You hummed in response, turning around and leaning up on your toes to pull him in closer for a kiss.
“Hi,” you repeated against his lips, smiling as his arms wrapped tightly around you.
“I’ve missed you…” he whispered, leaning down to trail kisses along your jaw then down your neck.
“I’ve missed you too, which is crazy because we’ve been together constantly the past few days.”
“Not quite the same though, is it? Not with the house being overrun by overbearing family members and small children everywhere. This is the first we’ve been alone since before Ottie’s birthday, seeing that she managed to convince us into letting her sleep in our bed to make her birthday even more special.” Cassian said with a roll of his eyes, fully aware of the manipulation tactics his daughter was prepared to use against him in order to get her way.
“Not really,” you mused purely to tease him, “we were alone last night.”
A nip to your ear told you he wasn’t impressed. “Doesn’t count. We both passed out straight away, didn’t even have the energy to get a cuddle in before we fell asleep.”
“What a travesty.” You said distractedly as you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck and pulled his lips back down to slant over yours, letting out a small moan as Cassian backed you into the counter.
“You know,” he whispered against your lips, breath fanning out across your skin, “she’s currently distracted by her ridiculous mountain of presents, we could sneak upstairs for a few moments…”
You grinned in response, letting out a small shriek when he lifted you up, tapping your thighs to prompt you into wrapping your legs around his waist as he reattached his lips to your neck. With near-silent giggles, you clung to Cassian as he quietly made his way towards the stairs, getting three steps up before…
“Daddy?” Ottie’s voice called out from the living room, causing Cassian to let out a frustrated sigh as you dropped your head to his shoulder. “What’s your favourite colour?”
You stifled a laugh as Cassian looked at you, eyes laced with longing despite the perplexed expression on his face. “Umm, green?” he answered, not quite processing his words as the touch of your lips traced along his jaw and your fingers tugged through the hair at the back of his neck.
“Thank you.” Cassian waited a few seconds to see if Ottie would say anything else before raising his eyebrows at you and continuing up the flight of stairs. You managed to get up all of four steps when her voice rang out again.
“Mummy?”
You felt your eyes widen as you let out a shocked splutter, looking to Cassian who seemed to be holding in a laugh at your reaction.
“Mummy?” Ottie called out again, this time in a more demanding tone.
At Cassian’s shrug of indifference, you took in a deep breath before calling back down the stairs to her, patting Cassian’s arm for him to put you back down on the ground.
“Yes, Ottie?” you hesitantly replied, eyes not leaving Cassian’s as he stared back at you, a soft expression crossing his features.
“What’s your favourite colour?”
“Blue.”
“Thank you. Don’t come back until I say you can, it’s a surprise.” She demanded, followed by the sound of the living room door slamming shut.
“What…?” You quietly ask Cassian as he took your hand and led you up the stairs and into your bedroom. After shutting the door behind him, Cassian joined you on the bed and leant against the headboard, the comforting and familiar weight of his arm wrapping around your shoulders had you snuggling in closer to his side. “Mummy? She called my mummy.”
“She did.”
“You don’t seem surprised by it.”
“I was going to mention something the other day but…” he trailed off, glancing at you with a guilt-ridden expression.
“But what?” you deadpanned, sitting up and eyeing Cassian as he averted his gaze.
“I forgot?”
“You forgot? How did you forget? This is huge. Okay, what happened?” you asked excitedly. The two of you had discussed Ottie calling you mum a couple of months ago after an elderly couple had stopped you in the street to talk about what a good parent you were to the little Illyrian. Ultimately, you had both decided to let Ottie steer the situation; when she decided to start calling you mum, if she even wanted to, would be entirely up to her.
“She mentioned something about it the other night when I was putting her to bed,” was the vague answer Cassian gave you, seemingly deciding it wasn’t important enough as taking advantage of a distracted child and an empty bedroom.
“Cassian!” You exclaimed, pulling his head up and away from your neck as you shrugged out of his embrace and fixed him with a look that said nothing would be happening until he talked.
“Ugh, alright. The other night – look, do you really want to talk about this now when she’s distracted, and we’ve got–”
“Cassian…” you repeated, holding back a smile as he threw his head back with a groan.
“Okay, okay. The other night I was tucking her in, and she was all quiet so I asked if something was wrong and she said she wasn’t sure, so I asked again and she said she had been thinking a lot lately but got all hesitant,” Cassian looked at you, a soft smile on his face, “then she asked if it really mattered that you didn’t have her in your tummy before she was born.”
“Oh,” was all you could bring yourself to say, mind going blank as you processed what Cassian had told you and what had been running through Ottie’s mind.
Cassian pressed a kiss to your temple as he took both of your hands in his. “And then,” he continued, giving your hands a squeeze, “when I asked her if it mattered to her, she said, and I quote, no I don’t think it does because I want her to be my mummy and I love her and I know she loves me, or something like that anyway. We chatted a bit more then when I was about to leave she asked me if I thought you would mind if she started calling you mummy.”
You looked at Cassian through tears. “And?” you promoted when he remained silent.
“And,” he gave you a nudge at your impatience, “I told her that you would love it if she started calling you mummy. Y/N, you should have seen the way her face lit up…”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. She was even more ecstatic to hear that than when she unwrapped Az’s birthday present.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me any of this when it happened?”
“Like I said, I forgot.”
“You’re hopeless, you’re also a terrible storyteller…”
“Yeah, yeah. Can we get back to us now? Please?”
With a content sigh you wrap your arms back around Cassian’s neck and climb into his lap, slanting your lips over his as you try to fight back your tears. He pulls you down with him as he leans back against the pillows, arms coming up to wrap around your waist.
“You alright?” he breaks the kiss, letting out a laugh when you nod your response with a small sniff. “You sure? Because you’re currently crying while I kiss you and that’s not the greatest thing for my confidence…”
You laugh as you softly whack him, face lighting up when you see the look in his eyes and the love-filled smile on his face as he watched you from against the pillow. The emotion in that look sent you even further over the edge, a fresh wave of tears welling in your eyes that had Cassian sitting back up with you in concern.
“Y/N?”
“No, I’m fine,” you laugh despite the tears running down your face. “Really, I am. I promise. It’s just Ottie and you and… oh gods.”
Cassian lifts up a hand to wipe away your tears, fixing you with a look of concerned bemusement as you laugh and cry. “Sorry,” you sniff, taking in a deep breath and smiling when Cassian shakes his head to dismiss your pointless apology. “Sorry. Okay, I’m good. It’s just the two of you make me so happy and, you know, a few years ago I never thought I would have something like this and now… Did I ever tell you I almost said no when Elain asked if I would babysit her niece? I don’t even want to think where I would be right now if I hadn’t agreed to.”
Cassian remained silent as he gently cupped your face, thumbs swiping across your cheeks to wipe away the last of your tears before he pulled you into a soft kiss that had you melting against him.
“We would have found each other.”
“Hmm?” You murmured, pouting when Cassian pulled away from you.
With a smile he let his thumb trace over your lips. “We would have found each other,” he repeated, kissing you once more. “If you had told Elain no, I truly believe that eventually our paths would have crossed. Either way we were going to end up here one day.”
You blinked at him, letting the words sink in as your heart filled with such an overwhelming feeling of love. If you let yourself speak, to reply to his words with your own, you knew you would turn into a blubbering mess again. So, instead you pressed your lips to his once more, hoping to convey everything you were currently feeling as you let Cassian lay you down against the mattress, limbs intertwining as he crawled over you, not once removing his lips from yours.
*****
You and Cassian managed to steal an entire hour for yourselves, filling it with soft moans and breathless whispers against sweaty skin as you allowed the overwhelming emotions surging through you to be expressed in the most physical and intimate of ways.
A comfortable silence settled throughout your bedroom as you slowly got dressed, no words were needed in the wake of what you had just shared. Still, the need to be close, to be touching in some way, persevered through the silence as Cassian laced his fingers through yours, bringing your hand up to his lips as you made your way back downstairs. The living room door was still closed, the sound of Ottie contentedly humming to herself had you both leaving her to her own devices.
“We should probably put something together for dinner.” you said, voice barely above a whisper as though not wanting to break the trance you still found yourself in.
“Probably,” was all Cassian said in response as he leant down to kiss you again before leading you into the kitchen.
You sat at the kitchen bench, watching as Cassian looked through the pantry and cupboards, pulling out ingredients as he quietly hummed to himself; you noted, with a smile, that it was the same tune Ottie had been humming.
Pulling yourself out of the seat, you walked around the bench and picked out a bottle of wine, pressing a kiss to Cassian’s cheek as you stood next to him and poured out two glasses while he chopped up the vegetables, bumping his hip into yours as he worked.
“What do you need me to do?”
Cassian looked at you then leant down to steal a quick kiss before saying with a wink, “just sit there and look pretty for me, sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes but sat back in your seat, content in watching him cook as he told you about his and Azriel’s plans for the new intake of Valkyries.
The shuffle of small footsteps across the floorboards had you both looking up to find Ottie walking through the doorway, a piece of paper clasped tightly in her hands.
“Hi, daddy.”
“Hi, princess,” Cassian greeted. Ottie smiled at him then turned to you, lifting her arms for you to pick her up and place her on your lap.
“Hi…” she trailed off, her expression momentarily turning into one of uncertainty as she intensely studied your face. Offering her a smile, you watched as Ottie visibly relaxed against you before saying, almost shyly, “hi, mummy.”
“Hi, sweetheart,” your heart was pounding in your chest as you kissed her cheek, watching with utter delight as her face lit up at your response. “What have you got there?” you asked with a nod towards the piece of paper she was holding.
“Oh!” she exclaims as she shifts in your lap, “I’ve been painting.”
You glance up to where Cassian is standing, only to find him already watching the two of you with a look of complete adoration.
“I love you,” he silently mouths the words to you with a wink when he catches you watching him.
“I love you too” you mouth back before shifting your attention to Ottie and the painting she set atop the kitchen bench of three figures labelled ‘mummy, daddy and Ottie’.
*****
Read Part 7 now!
*****
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Let me know if you want to be added! 🥰
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zeawesomebirdie · 9 months
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Superbat Fake Dating + Identity Porn Rec List
Thanks to @jourquet for asking for this!! I hope you find something here to read!! (And paging @steine-druff as promised!)
These are in no particular order, but generally organised by trope. I tend to read longfic as a general rule, so these recs will reflect that :) the titles contain links to each fic.
Fake Dating
1. A Common Misconception by rotasha; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 91,114 words; 21 chapters; complete
Summary:
When Bruce Wayne comes out, he accidentally becomes the poster child of bisexuality and realizes his lifestyle of sleeping around needs to come to an end. Clark, being the supportive friend that he is, volunteers to pretend to date him for a year.
You know the rest.
This fic has everything that one could want in fake dating: idiots in love, mutual pining, one bed, fake vacations, miscommunication. It also really captures the superbat dynamic of trusting and yes and-ing each other, even when they probably didn't need to be!
(And if you like this fic, any of rotasha's other works are just as good! I've got a few more of them in this list too)
2. over this threshold by orphean; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 59,283 words; 7 chapters; complete
Summary:
'I don't understand how tax evasion relates to you going on a date with, do I need to remind you, Bruce Wayne.'
Clark bit his tongue.
'We're going to get married. It's a tax break, not tax evasion.'
'Are you kidding me.' Lois stared. 'That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.'
———
Bruce asks Clark to marry him for tax reasons. Clark, against his better judgment, agrees.
Exactly what it says on the tin. Some highlights include Bruce buying Clark ridiculously expensive suits, Clark taking forever to tell his mom what's going on, and of course the wedding itself which was just delightful, with speeches from Lois, Alfred, and Dick that had me crying.
3. A Rich Man's Game by malicegreres; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 63,942 words; 13 chapters; complete
Summary:
The editorial staff of the Daily Planet, currently owned by Bruce Wayne, is trying to organize a labor union. Clark can't explain to his coworkers why he can't participate without jeopardizing the campaign—or tell Batman why he's been so cagey around him lately. When Bruce finds out what's been going on, Clark recruits him to resolve his conflict of interest in the only way Clark can think of: by pretending to date him.
This fic is truly glorius. Of all the ways Clark could have solved this problem, he chose the most convoluted. And surprise surprise, it works!
4. mission parameters by shipyrds; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 33,394 words; 6 chapters; complete
Summary:
"Bruce." Clark turns towards him, leaning back against a bank of consoles. "We're not actually going undercover. We don't need an elaborate backstory– if anything, it'll be harder to keep straight. It doesn't have to be complicated." He spreads his hands. "Here's a story: we're members of the same elite fighting force. After years of saving each other's lives in the field, we fell in love. That's it."
Bruce swallows past the almost-truth of it. In Clark's warm smooth radio voice, it sounds plausible. It sounds like something that could happen.
Bruce and Clark pretend to be married for diplomatic reasons. When they return to Earth, things are a little different.
Of all the things that normally Bruce says, Clark is the one to insist on a simple coverstory. And of course, from such simple things spirals out a whole entire adventure that doesn't stop just because the mission is over! This fic features a domesticity that neither of them knew they needed until they had it
5. tell all the truth (but tell it slant) by susiecarter [@susiecarter on tumblr]; rated M; no archive warnings apply; 33,007 words; 1 chapter; complete
Summary:
It takes a while for Batman and Superman to work things out, once Clark comes back from the dead. Pretending to date each other in order to explain why Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are in the same place so often? Doesn't help as much as you might think.
*slapping this fic like that one meme with the car* this fic can fit so much miscommunication into it, it's truly delightful to read!! Also, yet another fic where Clark fails to mention what's going on to his mother. And of course the constant worrying about each other without actually expressing it, which is truly such a golden trope when it comes to these two!
I'm adding a cut here because this is already very long and we are still only just starting, so click the read more to see the rest ^.^
6. there ain't no star that shines by amosangius [@amosanguis on tumblr]; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 11,713 words; 1 chapter; complete
Summary:
“I'm not the same person I was back in high school,” Clark says, “and I doubt they all are, either. What would be the point?”
“Oh, Clark,” Bruce is suddenly holding Clark's face with both of his hands, “the point is that I'm going to land us in a helicopter somewhere for all your classmates to see.”
Clark sighs and closes his eyes.
“Say 'yes', Clark,” Bruce orders.
Clark doesn't open his eyes, just says, “Yes, Clark.”
If you thought Bruce buying Clark expensive suits just for their fake dates was excessive, you ain't seen nothing yet!! This fic also features casual bed sharing (and so many references to casual intimacy oh my goodness it's lovely), Bruce Wayne being Rich As Fuck, and Bruce casually being overprotective of Clark in social situations
7. my heart is an open wound by yukla [@yuebings on tumblr]; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 13,367 words; 1 chapter; complete
“—I’ll see you kneel again,” Luthor is hissing, eyes hungry, and Clark is swaying back in discomfort—and as Lois checks their surroundings again, she notices that Wayne is still standing across the room, staring uselessly, as though he believes the sheer force of his murderous gaze would be enough to laser-blast Luthor into oblivion.
Jesus Christ, Lois thinks. I have to do everything around here.
5 times a Daily Planet employee protects Clark Kent, and 1 time Clark Kent protects the Daily Planet.
Or: Clark's coworkers watch as he fake-dates his crush with limited success.
It is probably obvious by now that miscommunication and Bruce's emotions getting in the way of everything are two of my favourite things to read. All of Clark's coworkers are the best, and once again Clark is a self-sacrificing idiot (affectionate)
8. flash in the pan by shipyrds; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 15,951 words; 3 chapters; complete
Summary:
Here’s the thing. Clark does understand. Superman and Batman are fucking. Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne are not. Clark can handle this. He keeps parts of his life separate all the time.
It’s possible, Clark thinks, as he glares at a lurid tabloid cover of Bruce’s latest scandalous yacht party in the grocery store checkout aisle, that he can’t handle this.
At the Wayne Foundation's annual holiday party, things come to a head.
Okay there is so much I want to say about this fic and yet there are no words that could possibly express just how incredible it is. Bruce coming up with the worst case scenario for literally everything? Check. Clark agreeing to fake date even though he's majorly head over heels and this will likely end in flames? Check. Ma Kent giving the best relationship advice ever? Check. Dick yelling at Bruce when he tries to self sabotage again? Check. Truly one of the best fucking-but-still-pining fics I've ever read!
9. Operation Sponsalia by Brenda [@brendaonao3 on tumblr]; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 13,610 words; 1 chapter; complete
Summary:
"When did you first realize you were in love with me?"
Bruce coughs up his wine.
"I mean, in this...whatever this is," Clark clarifies, blushing to the roots of his hair. "I don't think you're really — I mean, I know this isn't —"
"It's alright." Bruce's voice is raspy, but steady. "I know what you mean."
Clark's glad one of them does.
Or: Bruce and Clark have to fake an engagement for ~reasons — featuring a metric ton of very romantic dates, enough floral arrangements to start a flower shop, SO MANY puns, and Clark finally getting to know the real Bruce. :D
Clark doesn't find out that Bruce said to the press that they had been dating long enough to be teasing enagagements until after it's already been said. Was there a better way to explain why Bruce just happened to help save the Kent family farm? Absolutely. And yet they follow through on it anyway, and I love it for them
10. Sham-pagne by ChrisLeon; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 8,248 words; 1 chapter; complete
Summary:
Superman is spotted visiting Wayne Manor, prompting speculation about how exactly he knows Bruce Wayne. To protect their secret identities, they need a plausible explanation and it seems easy enough to go along with the tabloid theory that they’re sleeping together. All they have to do is pretend to be in a relationship until the speculation dies down and then they can break up move on.
Or: Superman fake-dates Bruce Wayne, we all know how this ends.
This one was fascinating to me because instead of Clark and Bruce dating, it's Superman and Bruce dating, and let me just say I'm so incredibly hinged about it!! I think there is so much potential in that particular version of their dynamic, and this fic was such a beautiful exploration of it!
11. Speaking in Code by Mithen; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 7,459 words; 1 chapter; complete
Summary:
Clark and Bruce must go undercover at a newlywed resort to try and stop an assassination attempt. Hijinks, UST, and reluctant making out ensue.
First of all, Mithen is a superbat master. Pick any fic of theirs and it will be delightful. Second of all, I could write an entire essay about how much I adore the way they go from irritable about this mission to incredibly enthuasiastic over the course of their two days at the resort, but then we'd be here all day so: if you like banter, one bed, and a case fic this is a brilliant read
12. Kind Truths by Mawiiish [@superbattrash on tumblr]; rated G; creator chose not to use archive warnings; 6,478 words; 1 chapter; complete
Summary:
Bruce needs help with an undercover mission. Clark can never say no to him even though he probably should before he does something stupid. Like tell Bruce he's in love with him.
--
“Why me?” Clark can’t help but ask. He tries his very best to keep his voice level, to not sound as desperate as he feels.
“Because I need someone there to watch my back,” Bruce says, a little exasperated. He really shouldn’t have to explain this to Clark of all people, it’s not like they haven’t been on missions together before.
“I get that, but what about Diana? Shayera?” Anyone who doesn’t have a big fat crush on Bruce would do.
Is it obvious I have a thing for Clark agreeing to fake dating despite his big crush on Bruce? This fic is glorious, and features delights such as Bruce metaphorically putting his foot in his mouth, Clark wanting nothing more than to defend Bruce's honor, and one of the most beautiful confession scenes I've ever had the pleasure of reading
13. where i come from by soetry [@soetrys on tumblr]; E; no archive warnings apply; 52,494 words; 11 chapters; complete
Summary:
Bruce doesn’t have a soulmark, and Clark doesn’t have a soulmark, on an Earth where everyone has a soulmark. Somewhere in there is a simple solution. Somewhere to that solution is an overcomplicated journey. Surely two of the world’s leading superheroes will not take the overcomplicated route?
Surely not?
This one is a little bit of both. The identity porn in this was really well done - Dick is a massive Superman fan, Bruce is unimpressed with both Superman and Clark Kent, and it all goes downhill from there (affectionate). Highlights also include Bruce using a dubiously legal site to crossreference soulmarks, him getting the Superman crest tattooed on his wrist using Kyrptonian tech, and Clark being a self-sacrificing idiot. This is also one of the best soulmate AUs I've ever read!!
Identity Porn
1. Get Over It by rotasha; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 32,378 words; 3 chapters; complete
Summary:
Bruce needs to get over his inconvenient feelings for Superman and he meets an attractive reporter who he thinks can help him do just that. Little does he know...
Of all the identity porn I've read, this is one of the best! Bruce dating Clark to get over Superman is one of the best things ever and this fic really does a good job of their dynamic!
2. Lost Time Without You by rotasha; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 68,792 words; 21 chapters; complete
Summary:
In a universe where your soulmate’s injuries show up on your skin, Bruce is convinced he doesn’t have a soulmate, and Clark is seriously concerned for his soulmate’s well-being.
This was my introduction to soulmate!AUs and oh my goodness it was spectacular! The build up to the reveal of their identities was brilliantly done, and the chance encounters that pepper through the lead up to that point were captivating. This fic also features Bruce being a good parent and I really love that for him
3. the cost of being a good dad by Mawiiish [@superbattrash on tumblr]; rated T; creator chose not to use archive warnings; 95,533 words; 10 chapters; complete
Summary:
Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian are all tired of watching Bruce struggle with the stress of trying to handle the newly formed Justice League. He needs an outlet, he needs to relax, he needs to get out of the house, he needs... he needs to start dating. And what he doesn't know won't hurt him, right?
--
“Excuse me, I don’t know who you think I am, but I think there’s been a mistake.”
“Bruce, right?” the guy says, albeit less confidently this time. He looks slightly concerned and if Bruce is not mistaken… a tad embarrassed. “Bruce Wayne? You look just like your pictures.”
“My pictures?” Something finally clicks in Bruce’s mind, and he takes a small step back and plasters a smile on his face as to not rouse suspicion. Stalker. “Ah, of course, I’m sorry but I’m late for an appointment.”
This fic features the batkids catfishing Clark on Bruce's behalf, Bruce being a good parent, and the utter chaos of miscommunication that can only come from these two being idiots! It was a delightful read, and of course the batfam in action is always a joy!
4. ship-to-ship combat by pomeloquat; rated M; no archive warnings apply; 62,737 words; 12/13 chapters; incomplete
Summary:
"Clark. What the hell is this," Lois asks, staring at Clark's Bruceman WIP folder. Clark's first instinct is to fly away, but that would still leave his fic on display for her to see. His second instinct is to blast a hole straight through his laptop screen with his heat vision, which isn't much better.
Clark, in an attempt to make some spare cash, unintentionally stumbles into the world of superhero fanfiction, becomes a prolific writer for Gotham's OTP, and tries his best to fend off rival fans who want him to convert to superbat instead.
Oh my goodness okay. Where to start with this fic. First of all, Clark writing Batman/Bruce Wayne fanfiction is such a brilliant concept. Then add to that the fact that Clark is secretly crushing on Batman at the same time, and the entire comedy of a trainwreck is a delight to witness!
5. I'm Not As Think As You Drunk I Am by Mardiaz173; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 12,920 words; 3 chapters; complete
It was like living in the Twilight Zone. Everyone else believed fervently in Bruce Wayne’s reputation. He was a flirty, stupid, and entitled drunk whose only redeeming quality was his bleeding heart. And yet every time Clark spoke with Wayne, the man was clever, mischievous, and sober with an indecipherable ulterior motive.
And no one believed Clark. Not Lois, not his parents, not even Batman.
Clark insisting upon defending Bruce to everyone much to everyone's dismay is one of my favourite superbat tropes ever, and this fic really does it well! And of course, this fic also features Batman shit talking Bruce, which is always a joy to see!
6. Don't Quote Me by metropolisjournal [@metropolisjournal on tumblr]; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 77,131 words; 20/21 chapters; incomplete
Summary:
Bruce Wayne has weathered scandal before, and Wayne Enterprises can handle another publicity crisis. What Bruce can’t handle is one crashing up against his plans to infiltrate Lex’s estate. Set during Batman v. Superman.
This was the fix-it for Batman vs Superman that I didn't know I needed until I read it. The identity reveal was so incredibly well written, and the whole fic was stupendous from the very first chapter!
And that's all for now! I hope you find something in here to read, may you enjoy!!
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a-ramblinrose · 1 year
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― Louise Glück, from ‘Mitosis’        Poems 1962-2012
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suzukiblu · 3 months
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Ko-fi thank-you sentences for 🦄 behind the cut; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))
“Like–they didn’t read to you or let you watch movies and stuff, you mean?” Billy asks with a frown. “Just put the whole things in your head at once?” 
That sounds disorienting, and also kinda mean and lazy on Cadmus’s part. But maybe it wasn’t as bad as it– 
Lynn looks down at Tawky; flips his ear back and forth again and rubs the pad of his thumb across the inside of it. 
Billy . . . frowns, again. 
“No,” Lynn says to Tawky’s ear, as opposed to actually either of them. “I mean they didn’t tell me stories at all.” 
. . . wow, yeah. Billy is definitely committing fifty-two floors’ worth of arson. 
“Oh, okay,” he says, making a few mental notes for himself about, again, arson. Like, just the whole process and everything. “Well, they suck, then. We’ll just have to get you some different types to try, I guess. Like with the food and all, you know? It’s a library, anyway, it’s not like it costs money to borrow stuff or anything.” 
“It’s just stories,” Lynn says to Tawky’s ear, not lifting his eyes at all. “They’re not–important. To . . . I don’t need things like that.” 
“Why do you think that?” Billy asks with a frown, though his inner arsonist is already pretty sure it’s Cadmus's fault. Pretty much positive, in fact. 
Pretty definitely positive. 
Lynn shrugs. Rubs the inside of Tawky’s ear. It’s really soft, Billy knows; Tawky’s fur always feels nice to touch. He wonders, actually, how much stuff Lynn even has touched so far. 
He wonders, again, if anybody’s ever hugged him before. 
He really hates the thought that maybe no one has. He really hates . . . 
He just really hates that that’s even a thing that might be a thing at all. 
“Weapons don't need to know stories,” Lynn says. “They just need to do as they're told.” 
. . . in retrospect, arson might be half-assing what Billy should do to Cadmus. 
“This isn't so you can be a weapon,” he reminds Lynn carefully, resisting the urge to clench his fists in his lap. “Remember?” 
“‘This’,” Lynn echoes. He still doesn't look up. 
“I'm taking care of you,” Billy says. 
“Maintaining me,” Lynn says very, very quietly. “Containing me.” 
“I really hate that somebody made you think that's what that means,” Billy says tightly. Lynn ducks his head lower and looks towards the wall. 
He doesn't say anything back. Billy bites his tongue, trying to figure out what he should–do, or say, or . . . 
The truth, obviously, but how to say it's a lot harder. 
“This isn't, like–a containment thing. That's not why I'm taking care of you,” he tries, because it's the best place to start he can think of. The wisdom of Solomon covers a lot of knowledge, but not necessarily always how to apply that knowledge. “Like, we wanna know where you are so we know you're safe, or at least know you've got your phone just in case, and the curfew thing is–like, normal kids get curfews. So people know where they are, and that they're not in trouble or anything. And like–so people know when to get help for them, if they might be in trouble.” 
Lynn doesn't say anything, still. Billy's not sure if that means he's just thinking, or if it means he hasn't said the right thing yet. 
He really hopes it's the thinking thing, but . . . 
“Honestly the other idea was putting you up in Mount Justice,” he admits. “But it doesn't have any windows or anything, and I don't even know if anyone else was gonna be there most of the time, and–”
“Windows?” Lynn . . . frowns, his eyes flicking back to him. 
“Um, yeah,” Billy says. Lynn stares blankly at him for a moment, then slants his eyes towards the apartment windows and–hesitates, a little. 
“. . . you mean there's no sun,” he realizes slowly.
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the girl next door 17
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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“You’re leaving me?” Your mom whines. 
“Sorry, Holly, they need to keep you overnight for observation,” Steve crosses his arms. 
“But... you could stay?” 
“What about her?” He asks, nodding over his shoulder as you sit on the bench against the wall, head down as you grip the boxes of pills. You haven’t said much since she woke up, you just stayed out of her way. She only wanted to talk to him anyhow. 
“She can drive,” she pouts. 
“I drove her here and I’m sorry, but I can’t stay. I have stuff to do. We’ve been here all day and I didn’t exactly plan for it,” he shrugs, “you got my number, okay?” 
“Wha-- I’m sick, how can you just abandon me?” 
“Now, Holly,” he firms his voice and drops his arms, hands on her bed rail, “don’t be dramatic. No one’s abandoning you. There’s nowhere for either of us to sleep and you need rest if you’re going to come home. Look at it like this, I’m taking care of your daughter while you’re here. Making sure everything’s ready for you.” 
“Hmph,” she grunts, “I... I’m sorry. I’m scared, Steve,” she sniffs though even from where you sit, you can tell her eyes are dry, “I’m going to miss you,” she touches his hand and rubs it, “these last few days have been... the best I’ve had in a long time.” 
“I know,” he lowers his voice, “but you gotta get better and... take better care of yourself. You want this to last, right?” 
“I.. I guess,” she concedes grimly, “can I... I get a kiss before you go?” 
He nods and leans in. He kisses her cheek, ignoring her pucker, then stands. He gives a yawn as your mom blinks up at him. She obviously expected more and you can’t tell if he even realises her disappointment. 
“Alright, sweetie, give your mom a hug, I can see you dwindling over there,” he beckons you over. 
You stand without a word and approach the bed. Your eyes meet your mom’s glare. You don’t hug. Ever. You can’t even remember the last time you did. Maybe when you were ten? You look down ashamed and spread your arms, embracing her quickly and daintily as she just lays there. 
“Bye mom, love you.” 
She pauses and swallows loudly, “love you too.” 
You spin back to Steve and slant your mouth. You know she’s only saying that because he’s right there. You cross the room as he bids his own farewell and you mom huffs and puffs mopily. 
As you come out in the hall, Steve walks beside you. You’re startled as he touches your lower back. Again. It must be a habit. 
“So, when we get home, are you going to try some of those pills?” He asks. 
“What?” You look down at the handful. “Oh, uh, maybe...” 
“The nurse said you should try. Even just for tonight. At least get some sleep while you can, you know?” 
“Yeah, er, I don’t know.” 
“Nothing wrong with accepting a little help. Especially when you need it.” 
“Mm, I guess,” you shrug, “I’ll think about it.” 
You carry on, following the halls and riding the elevator in silence. You chalk it up to fatigue on both ends. As you come out under the sky, the sun is setting. You follow Steve to his car and get in, resting the boxes in your lap as you rub your eyes. 
He turns the engine and backs out. He grips the wheel and sighs. The air is thick even as the AC blows. 
“Does your mom always talk to you like that?” He asks. 
You’re struck by the question. You know you can’t tell the truth. Even if you didn’t know your mom would lose it, it’s too embarrassing. Besides, you deserve it. You ruined her life. 
“She’s just out of it, I think,” you murmur. “Me too. I was worried.” 
“You’re a really good daughter,” he says, “a good person too. You know, you can tell me anything and I'll believe you. I’ll listen, sweetie.” 
You nod and chew your inner lip. He might believe you but he wouldn’t be able to change it. No one ever tried. Even when your aunt saw how your mother was, she only ran away. 
“Seems like you could use someone,” he steers smoothly behind another car, “what... I hope it’s okay for me to ask but where’s you dad?” 
Your heart drops. You shift and the boxes fall onto the floor. You bend forward to pick them up and suddenly, the car jerks and Steve’s pushing you back against the seat. You flatten yourself to it as your pulse pumps wildly. He’s at a complete stop as the car in front of him is only an inch away. 
“God-- guy didn’t even tap his breaks,” he snarls as he keeps his arms out, his hand on your chest, cupping you. 
“Uh,” you gulp and look down. 
He glances over and retracts his hand. He puts it back on the wheel and clears his throat, moving in his seat as he slowly leans on the gas. You won’t say anything. It was an accident and awkward enough. 
“I didn’t want you to hit your head,” he says. 
“It’s fine, thanks,” you carefully bend again and reach down to retrieve the pills. “Didn’t mean to drop these.” 
“No harm, no foul right,” he chuckles and pulls his hand from the wheel to rub his neck. “You can crash at my place if you want. Might be weird all alone in that house. Unsafe.” 
He bends his elbow against the armrest as he drives with one hand. You lean into the door and stare out the window. You really just want to go home and be alone. 
“It’s okay. I’m... an adult.” 
“Oh, I know, sweetie, I didn’t mean to treat you like a child. I know you’re not. Trust me, that’s clear,” he assures you. “I just thought... pretty girl like you home alone. Maybe I worry too much.” 
You didn’t think of it until he said something. You clutch the boxes tight and cross your feet together. You turn your head straight and watch the traffic ahead. 
“I don’t think... guy don’t...” you don’t know how to say it aloud. You’ve never had to admit what a loser you are, it’s just been obvious. Somehow, he seems to miss that. “It’s a safe neighbourhood.” 
“Sure, I guess you’re right,” he clicks his tongue. “Be weird being alone though, won’t it? You and your mom, you’re always together. Someone like me... I’ve been alone a while. Guess I’m used to it.” 
“Oh, yeah,” you agree flatly. 
“Sorry, that was... sadder than I meant,” he laughs at himself hollowly, “you know, I just never married. Always wanted to but did the military thing then the art thing and then I woke up and I was fifty. Then fifty-one and one and one...” he shakes his head as he slows down with the residential traffic, “if I can pass on any wisdom, sweetie, don’t let life run away from you. Don’t run away from it.” 
“Erm, thanks,” your tongue makes a gross noise as you swallow.  
“Just the wisdom of an old man,” he scoffs, “young girl like you, you got a lot waiting for ya.” 
You turn your head and hide your frown. You feel even worse with his empty promises. There’s nothing for you. You’re too stupid for college, you’re too useless for a job, and you’re just a shell of a person. There’s nothing in you worth a damn. 
“Sweetie, you okay?” He asks as he turns onto your street. 
“Tired,” you answer; it’s the truth, just not the whole truth. 
“Yeah, me too,” he yawns, “before you ditch me, how about you come have some dinner? You’re gonna need something in your stomach before you take those meds.” 
He pulls into his driveway and you peek over at him. Your stomach growls before you can say you’re not hungry. You flick your thumb on the elastic band around the boxes. You can’t be rude, what if he tells mom? 
“Alright,” you accept, “thank you.” 
“You’ve been through a lot, sweetie,” he reaches over to squeeze your shoulder, “you don’t have to keep being strong.” 
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anantaru · 1 year
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i just remembered that one trend on tiktok where you get onna fake phone call and pretend you're getting some juicy gossip just to see how ur s/o would react and its so funny to imagine how the gossip bfs would be so nosey.
Kaveh full on turning the corner to stand beside you after hearing you "gasp in shock" and kuni slowly peeking his head around the doorframe and getting caught LMFOAIOJDJWJS
- 💳
cw. none, crack, gn! reader, gossip bf kuni & gossip bf kaveh, modern au!
synopsis. you play a fake phone-call prank on them
a/n. help nonnie i love this idea i had to write a little something to it <3
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— scaramouche
"no, i do not believe this!"
dramatically pondering into the phone, you had made it your own personal duty to prank your boyfriend once again, unbeknownst to him of course.
but as might be expected, kuni wasn't stupid, so this had to be perfect, mind-blowing and you lowered your breathing to get in step with your devilish play.
scaramouche was currently in the living room, comfortably laying on the large couch while resting his eyes for a brief moment— today was one day like any other, needless to say it was demanding, becoming fatigued was only one of the many negatives of his job.
but then, before drifting off into a tranquil nap, your voice shook him awake, his eyes split open at your perceptible tone, scaramouche knew something big must've happened for you to be this all over the place and noisy.
and he knows better not to question it— that he was awfully bad at containing his excitement for any gossip, really, as long as there was something to gush and giggle about, complain or chitter chatter to his hearts content, kuni would always be right around the corner, cocking his ears to catch onto your words.
"but why would he do this?" you yell again, this time a step louder, "wait what?! he did what with his money?"
"who?!" bingo— you sink your teeth into your bottom lip to prevent yourself from laughing, it was way too easy to pique scaramouche's interest.
"tell me who? hey!" he peaked from behind the couch— his voice a little breathy, lower too so he wouldn't interrupt your phone call which, unsuspected to him, was fake.
"i can't believe he would do this, wow." it's over, kuni assembles the remaining power in his body to push himself off the warm confines of the couch before stomping towards you.
"what happened?" he asks again and tilts his head in a confused manner, but you do not respond.
"end the call, i want to know."
and this time you couldn't hold back the bristling power of an incoming laughter as you hiccuped and howled at his pleading face.
"it's a prank!" you giggle, lips split into a contagious smile, "i‘m sorry!" but he wasn't having it, instead scaramouche purses his lips at you, closing his arms around his chest— which fun fact, he'd always do whenever he wanted to appear more stern or poised.
"tsk." he clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth, "you better make it up to me now."
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— kaveh
"tell me!!"
kaveh restlessly whispers from right behind your body, once again— begging you to spill the beans, if it helps he'd even go on his knees for you.
but you further slant onto the kitchen counter, unbothered by all of this while motioning a short 'psst' sound with your lips so he'd keep himself quiet and wouldn't interrupt your oh so important phone call with your friend.
that admittedly, they weren't on a call with you right now— because in truth and nothing but the blatant truth, you began to play a little prank on him— quite evil, but what's new?
it was befitting too, to catch a glimpse of your boyfriends sweet tendencies to be hungry and eager for each and any gossip you could provide to him.
kaveh was unnerved— excited for something to gossip about because your stories tend to be so much better than his own which would mostly include his roommate alhaitham being a menace to society.
"wait!" you inaudibly gasp and dramatically place your hand on your chest, right above your heart for that extra special nuance that whatever was said right now, must've been huge, "so she went home with her?!"
"with whom??" kaveh whimpers, nudging his finger into your shoulder, once twice— beating frantically against your skin like he was trying to win a contest on; 'how to annoy your significant other the best'.
"who baby, say a name, please!"
"psst, kaveh!" you scold him and he squints, though you're a natural at concealing your amusement, "but i want to know." and he stomps his feet on the ground while sloping his body forward so he could hug you from behind and crush you with his weight— maybe even listen to the voice coming from your phone himself.
"i don't hear anything!" he pushes himself into you more, ear tightly planted against your hand that was holding your phone, "wait are you messing with me?"
he cocks a brow, pulling himself off you so he could look at your face and discern this mystery himself. he knows it in the way you suddenly hid your mouth with the back of your hand, sneakily placing the phone on the kitchen counter while giggling to yourself.
"sorry."
it doesn't help that you're so sweet— or that kaveh was madly in love with you, one of the two, otherwise he would've been actually mad at you now.
"seriously, i was so excited baby!"
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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adonis-koo · 2 years
Text
sweet nothing • 1
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( in which you prove to be far more trouble he thought you'd be )
↳ Description: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself.
His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.
↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader, ???/reader
↳ Genre: slice of life AU, mafia!AU, pregnancy, there’s like…a little bit of a plot but not a lot, future smut? maybe? it's very domestic!
Word Count: 4.6k
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Note: the crowd is booing so loud at the sight of pregnancy but I don’t care!!! slice of life makes my head go brrr. lol in all seriousness I hope you all enjoy this lil story! It’s just a mini series that is super domestic and light hearted! it popped into my head and I had to write it down so enjoy! also this hasn't been proofread, we die like men
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The room was suffocatingly silent. 
Jungkook had ignored it promptly though, leaned back in his leather chair, hair dusting over his eyes slanting his view, but his sight couldn’t be more accurate then it already was. 
This was not what he had asked his men to do. 
“I…” Your voice scratched, trying to find something to say, not only had you been kidnapped a mere hour ago, but now you had been brought into your captor's home and taken to him directly.
Your throat tightened as your heart beat frantically, you couldn’t be scared right now, you needed to take action before it was too late, “I understand why I’m here but please,” You looked up at him earnestly, “I…I’m due in early December. You can sell me off, keep me here, do what you want with me but please, Mr Jeon, give my baby a chance."
Your eyes blurred at just the thought, your hands hugging over your swollen stomach. You had been so shaken up the whole time that it hadn’t even occurred to you how fast this had all happened. 
It was late and you had been worried your brother found himself in trouble again, one minute you were getting ready to phone him, the next the door was smashed open to men in suits, guns in the air and tearing the whole apartment up. 
You were taken as…what you could only assume was collateral, you knew who Mr Jeon- you had informally met before.
Your brother had been paying him ransome for protection against…well…You supposed there was no reason to bother recounting everything. You were here now, in front of Jeon Jungkook, who looked less than pleased at the moment. 
What made you worried however was his continued silence, he was never a man of many words, or at least that's the impression you had always gotten when your brother and him would meet. 
Jungkook shifted in his chair, his lip visibly twitched before he muttered, “Get her out of here.” 
You felt your stomach lurch as you were yanked out of your chair with a yelp, “In one piece.” Jungkook added with an annoyed glint in his eye. 
The grip on your arms was relaxed immediately before you were jostled out of the room leaving it in silence once more. 
“It was the best we could do Sir,” Yeonjun spoke, crossing his arms behind his back, “We searched the whole apartment but Wonho was gone. We took her for collateral until he’s found.” 
Jungkook looked more visibly angry, “You brought me a pregnant defenseless woman.” He stood up in his chair, “What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?” 
Yeonjun lifted his hands, “Send a message out to Wonho, tell him we have his sister and we’ll see if he actually has a soul and gets the money to save her.” 
“And if he doesn’t?” Jungkook challenged, his eyes brewing hellfire as he inhaled sharply, Yeonjun had wisely chosen to not engage in his questions anymore, “I’m not going to kill her for fucks sake, even I have my limits.” 
Jungkook tucked his tongue into his cheek as he leaned against the desk. 
“Well we can't just release her now,” Yeonjun replied, “So what do you want me to do with her?” 
Jungkook crossed his arms, his jaw clenched in anger as he shook his head in thought. Who’s bright idea was it to take her ransome? Truly? Because he knew Yeonjun wasn’t that stupid. 
“Put her in a nice room, draw her a bath, offer a foot massage. She’s fucking pregnant, do I have to keep reminding you?” Jungkook hissed out as he waved his hand about.
“Noted.” Yeonjun sighed, “Anything else you wanna add to that list?” 
“Yeah, if I hear about one bruise, one little fucking scrape on her, I’ll have everyone lined up and shot in the living room.” Jungkook replied, before turning around to sit back down, “Now go. I don’t wanna see anyone unless they have something about that rat that isn’t a waste of my time.” 
Yeonjun nodded and said no more, leaving while his head was somehow still intact. Jungkook collapsed in his seat as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Wonho had fucked up more then just not paying his debts, he had leaked sensitive information to the Kim’s and it had him on extremely thin ice right now. 
He didn’t need a bystander involved in this situation. Jungkook crossed his arms in thought as he leaned back in his chair, you were a familiar enough face for Jungkook to recognize, you had only met a handful of times and was never involved in more dangerous dealings your brother dealt with. 
Quiet, you were considerably quiet, though Jungkook can recount a few small harmless conversations you had both made while waiting on your brother or in other circumstances that would call for something as such. But it had been awhile since he had seen you. 
Obviously long enough for you to get knocked up and in the middle of a pregnancy. Jungkook exhaled as he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the stress induced headache he had. 
Yeonjun was right, now that they had you it would be better to just keep you here and out of the line of fire, if they let you go now there was no telling what you would do, would you warn your brother? Would he sell you out? 
Would the Kim’s have kidnapped you as well? 
Jungkook had made the decision that yes, it would just be easier to keep you here at his estate, more as a guest than actual collateral because he honestly didn’t believe the idea that your brother would actually care about anyone but himself, he had proven that countless times. 
Jungkook may have not known you personally, but given your display of groveling, it was evident you felt the same.
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This…was not what you had expected.
Your lips parted in shock as the door shut behind you, the rooms were easily bigger than your little apartments living room, a glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling and plenty of spare space, large windows were next to the bed with tall hanging curtains and a writing desk was on the wall next to it. 
Then there was the bathroom, a claw foot bathtub and fluffy towels all folded up with various shampoos and soaps on display. You had to rub your eyes twice to figure out if you had been hallucinating. Everything was…nice…
You weren’t sure what you had expected but this wasn’t it. The water was hot against your skin as you showered, a little paranoid albeit, waiting for the door to bust down once again and for them to drag you into a less nice room. 
But the men never came as you laid in bed, shifting constantly to try and fall asleep.
One of the downsides of being pregnant was not being able to sleep on your stomach the way you had been, your side felt uncomfortable and your back kept cramping anytime you laid for too long on your back. 
Your hand gently brushed over the bump with a sigh, you didn’t understand why Jungkook would do this. You had spoken to him a handful of times, and while you wouldn’t describe him as a charismatic person, he was polite. But you had heard the stories about him, rumors of something much darker than who you had talked to that lurked beneath. 
Jungkook was a CEO of a small export company, big enough that he had well established connections in the upper socialite world but small enough that he evaded being in the spotlight of hollywood and its nosy media reporters. 
He refused photoshoots or magazine interviews at whatever cost and only attended parties unless it was absolutely necessary. Or so he had somewhat jokingly recalled one evening when you both were sitting at a club bar, somewhat awkwardly waiting for your brother who had gotten busy with a prostitute after Jungkook had come later then he said. 
Whether this was all true or not was beyond you. 
You supposed at the end of the day you should be thankful he’s chosen to keep you alive, for now. But dread filled your stomach, after all, you were only alive on borrowed time. 
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It was a beautiful day outside, it was early morning but the sun was shining bright with billowy thick clouds and it was still cool outside, but within a few hours the heat would once again be scorching hot just as it was yesterday. 
You had taken an extensive amount of time to take in the gardens as well, marigolds, tulips, buttercups and so many more were all around, well taken care of by the looks of it. It was gorgeous. 
This, of course, was all in an effort to avoid the gaze of the person who sat in front of you on the small table on the terrace. 
“You should eat,” Jungkook finally spoke, his hair was tied out of his face, giving you for the first time ever, a good look at his face. It was well sculpted with a chiseled jawline that oddly suited his rounded button-like nose. 
His thick brows were pinched as if he were angry as he ate, but you at some point realized the food must've just been that good, “You’re eating for two after all.” He added, “Nothing’s poisoned, if you couldn’t tell by now.” 
He gestured to his own plate, which had a serving of just about everything on the table on it, this made a weak smile tug on your lips, feeling oddly reminiscent of the few conversations you had shared before.
But this was very different. 
You were definitely hungry though, you had been craving syrup and fried chicken since four in the morning and while there was no chicken on the table, there was definitely syrup that could cure one of your cravings.
Hesitantly you put a few crepes onto your plate, adding some sausage as well before drizzling syrup over them.
“How was it?” 
You glanced up at him, not intentionally ignoring him, but to say you were still terrified of him was a bit of an understatement, “...What do you mean?” You finally asked, your voice no more than a whisper.
Jungkook wiped his mouth with an intricately decorated napkin, “Your room, it was rushed last night. They didn’t have time to put everything in there, you’ll be getting a wardrobe today but I didn’t know your size for maternity wear- or if that’s something you even wanted. You’ll have to discuss it with Jimin regardless.” 
You stared at him blankly for a long moment as he met your eyes, “What?” 
“Mr Jeon-”
“Jungkook.” His brows pinched, though this was not because of what he was eating. 
You stuttered, “...Jungkook,” You corrected yourself, still somewhat uneasy, “Um…I don’t understand, anything that’s going on.”
Jungkook sighed, as if he were expecting this as he leaned back in his seat, the buttons on his black shirt clinging for dear life as his chest puffed a little to stretch, “I doubt you know anything about your brother’s where abouts,” He replied, “And truthfully I’m sure you know he could give less then two shits about you or your baby.” He paused for a moment at the smallest sight, your lips briefly quivering and then your eyes darting to your plate. You were upset, but trying to hide it. It made him internally wince, perhaps his wording wasn’t the best. 
He cleared his throat as he continued, “So until this is all resolved you’ll be staying here, it’s the easiest thing to do with you at this point now that you’re involved. With your consent or against it. That’s up to you. But if you want to keep your baby safe then you’ll be smart and not try to escape.” 
You glanced up at him for a long moment before your hands curled, “You’re the one that kidnapped me. And it’s somehow my fault that I’m involved in my brother's affairs that I never wanted to be a part of to begin with?” 
Jungkook only curved a brow, quickly reminding you that you’re not in a position to be chastising him. 
However his lack of anger surprised you, in fact he sounded the opposite, “I did not kidnap you, my men did, without my knowledge of the whole situation. They made a split second decision in bringing you here, and indirectly involving you in the matter. It was a mistake on my behalf and I apologize for it.” 
You stared at him now in disbelief at his sincerity as he continued, “I’m trying to make up for it as best I can now by having you stay here. If you leave now it’s likely the Kim’s will take you hostage and see what information they can get out of you, or hell I wouldn’t put it past your brother to just sell you to them.” 
“My…my brother wouldn’t-”
“We both know the truth,” Jungkook cut you off with a frown, “There’s no point in trying to comfort yourself with a lie. There’s no telling what could happen if we let you walk out that door on your own. So like I said, if you’re smart and you want to keep your baby safe, you’ll stay here. How miserable you want to make this experience is up to you, but I have no plans of making you a hostage or holding you prisoner.” 
You slow began to eat, though having to hold back the urge to devour your whole plate, one bite had unleashed the monstrous appetite that had been lurking inside for the last six hours. 
“And I don’t suppose you’re doing this out of the kindness of your heart,” You replied, “You have to want something in return.” 
Jungkook took a large bite out of his bratwurst, “You’re right,” he nodded before taking a drink of champagne, “I want you to stay out of trouble and not make this any more difficult than it needs to be. Two requests, you think you can manage that?” 
You both stared at one another for a long moment before you glanced at your plate, “I don't suppose there’s much choice is there?” 
Jungkook shrugged, “Depends on your perspective, you could easily raise hell if you wanted, but I’d prefer you not. Where’s your husband? The last thing I need is someone nosing about trying to look for you. It would be better to just inform him and get things settled right away.” 
Jungkook paused though at the sight of you stiffening a little, your jaw clenching as you grabbed your flute of water. 
“I don’t have a husband,” You finally spoke after taking a long drink, “Or boyfriend. I work at the Bakery on main street though, they’ll want to know why I’m unable to come in to work.” 
Jungkook looked curious, but he didn’t ask questions, “Very well, consider it taken care of.” 
He didn’t want to pry but he was undeniably curious about your circumstances, caught up in all of this, pregnant without a husband or partner. Jungkook had never considered you the type of woman to sleep around, having always been rather shy around him but then again, perhaps it was because you had always known who he truly was. 
Still though, it was rather curious indeed, and there was nothing more Jungkook enjoyed in his past time than a good mystery.
Rather than let the silence linger Jungkook asked, “How far along are you? This could be resolved in a few days, or it can take months. I’d rather make arrangements now for the later rather than be caught unprepared.” 
“Twenty two weeks,” You replied, your hand pressing against your stomach as you looked down at your baby bump, a brief smile tugging on your face before it fell at the sight of Jungkook’s face, a bit confused before you weakly smiled once more, “Five and a half months. Like I said yesterday, my due date is December 13th
You had been anxious before about delivery your baby, after all, you had never done it before. But you're definitely anxious now at the idea of having to do it while being held as a guest in the Jeon Estate. 
Labor was already a painful experience, you don't want to have to go through it alone in an environment like this. Jungkook only nodded though, “I’ll have my personal doctor come by and fill in the role of your practitioner for check ins with the baby. A midwife will also be on staff for check-ins as well. If you need anything else just let me know. I’ll find time during the day to see you at least once.” Jungkook checked his watch as he sat upright, “But I have to go now, business to do. Yeonjun will show you around and then Jimin will be around to talk to you in further detail about your wardrobe.”
Jungkook grabbed his satin black jacket off the back of his chair as he stood up before leaving you alone. With a sigh of relief you sunk into your chair, having not released the breath you held in until you let it out before feasting on your breakfast while thinking about his words. While this was not an ideal situation, you couldn’t deny Jungkook’s kindness.
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You had been settling in for the last week and a half with an odd amount of contentment, your days were filled with a lot less physical labor then before, though you did miss going out and seeing your coworkers and interacting with regular customers. 
There was a certain sense of peace the estate gave you though, you still took your daily walks in the garden accompanied by Yeonjun who had been personally assigned to oversee you and he was a rather funny person. 
His humor was dry and it was even funnier watching him interact with Jungkook. 
He served as good company as did a few other people you had met, Jimin being one of them, he oversaw the finances of the estate and basically kept the place running while Jungkook was off doing business, only ever bothering him when something of substantial financial sum was needed for something.
And true to his word you saw and spoke to Jungkook at least once a day as he said, either in the morning for breakfast or in the afternoon for dinner. But the talk was usually the same, either about this or that, small talk.
You supposed it wasn’t that bad, considering the situation you were in you should consider yourself lucky that Jungkook is who he is. Regardless, you didn’t feel comfortable asking him about your brother.
First off what had he done for you to be put in this position and more importantly, where had your brother disappeared to? You had no doubt many of Jungkook’s days were spent searching for him, which made you wonder, just what had your brother done?
You dismissed it from your mind, you had been trying to detach yourself from whatever consequences would eventually find your brother, after all Jungkook had a point- no matter how much it stung to hear.
You loved Wonho, you just wished for once he would put you first, that he would put anyone first, you couldn’t even remember when he spiraled down this destructive path of dealing in narcotics that got him all tangled up in gangs and inevitably, the mafia. 
Just that somewhere along the way your brother had turned into a total jerk that was willing to sabotage anyone to save his own skin. 
Just the reminder of the argument you had about this very topic had run through your head when talking to Jungkook, it was the reason you had chosen to stay here giving him no problems. 
While you still didn’t feel comfortable because again, you weren’t exactly staying out of complete free will, you did feel safe here. For once, you felt safe. Your hand rubbed over your stomach as you aimlessly walked through the halls. 
Yeonjun had an online meeting he was attending in his office which meant you were free to roam the inside of the estate of your own meanwhile, he had given you the grand tour when your first morning and yet it seemed like you were still finding new rooms. 
Curiously you walked through the ballroom, or the equivalent to one, it was a grand room big enough to host an expensive party for sure. Poking your head into different doors you never knew what to expect. 
Closing the last door you walked a little further before you let out a breath, grabbing your stomach at the small kick you just felt. 
“You’re a little sucker aren’t you?” You winced out, the little kicks themselves weren’t painful, it was mainly your sudden back pain that had you leaning against the wall for support. 
What you hadn’t expected though was for the wall to press inward before back out, revealing a hidden door. 
You quickly straightened up right, back pain forgotten as your lips parted. Of course mobster Jeon Jungkook would have a hidden door in the fancy ballroom of his estate, you shouldn’t have expected less. 
You opened it up as you peered inside before delight filled your face, it was filled to the brim with books and the entire wall was made up of glass giving an expanse view into the garden, and there was a wide window sill with soft cushions making up a seat. 
Sliding as best you could inside the door shut behind you as you stepped further in, it looked magical in here easily, lights were strung up though they looked dusty, as if they hadn’t been used in years. 
How had you never noticed this during the walks in the garden before? Sitting down you curiously nosed through books, mostly children's books oddly enough. You smiled however as your hands constantly rubbed over your tummy, a soothing habit you had developed as the bump grew.
While you still weren’t fond of the idea of giving birth here, if you had too, you were relieved to know there were supplies here that wouldn’t be horrible to utilize for your baby. You could just imagine holding them swaddled against your chest, laying against the soft pillows reading here on a rainy day. 
Standing up you groaned as you grabbed your back, Yeonjun would be wondering where you were at soon, after all he said his meeting wouldn’t be long. But you would certainly keep this place in the back of your mind as somewhere to go during quiet moments in the day. 
Walking back up to the wall you pressed on it before your happy expression slowly shifted. 
There wasn’t a door handle.
You pressed on the wall once more, a little more forceful hoping it would latch open again but unfortunately it didn’t budge. Your heart rate immediately spiked as you tried to calm yourself down.
This is fine. 
You sat back down on the cushioned window sill trying to think rationally. Yeonjun would be sure to look for you and if he couldn’t find you which means he’d call Jungkook which would mean…
Somehow the idea of that happening brought you less comfort than before. Jungkook would assume you had made a run for it and would probably not even bother to look for you. 
In fact, he’d probably be relieved that you were gone and he’d no longer have to deal with you. 
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“What the fuck do you mean you lost her!?” Jungkook hissed out venomously and not a single man dared speak up as he glared daggers at Yeonjun who held his breath for a moment, “She’s six months pregnant how the fuck do you just lose someone who’s six months pregnant!?” 
Jungkook was damn near ready to rip out his hair, he was already dealing with multiple loose ends on his part and now you were magically gone? 
“Where’s the CCTV at?” Jungkook growled as he ripped his jacket off, tossing it at his chair, he was burning up and his hand was itching to grab the gun that was shoved in his back pocket. 
“It’s been fried,” Jimin winced a little at Jungkook’s livid expression, “I went to check the moment I heard she was gone but it looks like someone sabotaged it just an hour ago.”
Jungkook’s lips twitched, “So what you’re saying is not only did all of you lose her, but she got fucking kidnapped in the process?” His hands curled into fists as he paced back and forth trying to not lose his cool any further as he viciously smiled, “This place is a goddamn fortress with over forty men guarding it and somehow, my CCTV footage got fried and guest got kidnapped within an hour and nobody noticed? Nobody!?” 
“There’s been no signs of breaking and entering though.” Yoongi, his business partner who had been sitting there watching the whole thing finally spoke up, “If somebody got in, we would’ve got the word. It’s like you said, you have over forty men on staff here.” 
Jungkook seemed to cool down a bit at his words but his tone was still sharp, “And the CCTV? What else could’ve fried it?” 
“The fact that you haven’t replaced it in the last five years?” Yoongi shrugged before snorting, “Maybe a bird chewed through the wiring, maybe it shorted. Hell if I know, what I do know is that it’s not normal for you to get this worked up over something.” 
Jungkook’s nostrils flared, “Because somebody’s life is on the line here. What about Y/n!? If she had left on her own there would be at least something indicating she left.” 
“Then maybe she didn’t leave.” Yoongi shrugged, causing Jungkook to pause his pacing as he stared at Yoongi accusingly, “What? It’s the truth, the estate is big Jungkook, she’s only been here a week, she probably just got lost. There’s no reason to make a big deal out of this when there’s no indication that points to it being a big deal.” Jungkook looked annoyed but said nothing to him, only muttering for them all to spread out and search the estate. 
It had been three hours of searching, every nook and cranny, under every bed in every closet and Jungkook had just about lost all hope as he gazed out the tall windows in the ballroom when he noticed something odd. 
The door to his childhood library was stuck in an odd position, it was old and he hadn’t been in here in ages, the door used to get jammed if it wasn’t closed properly. 
Luckily all it took was a little force to get open, he gave it a good shove before it clicked back into place and propped open as he peered inside. Mouth gaping at the sight of you jumping up in surprise, looking half asleep with a book in hand. 
Your smile was just as guilty as the rest of you as you said, “Hi…I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever find me.” 
“Out. Now.” Jungkook looked mad, but he was secretly relieved that you were safe. He’d rather you be stuck in the library by accident than having tried to make a mad dash on your own out of the estate.
Just the sight of your sulky pout let him know one thing for sure; you were absolutely not going to be able to follow his two requests, for better or worse. 
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This imagery immediately made me think of Emily Dickenson’s poem “Tell all the truth but tell it slant”
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I’ve always associated this poem with Taylor and her truth, so it was fun to see a possible reference to it.
Now if the poem isn’t clear enough, look at this explanation of its meaning:
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As others have already pointed out, the room is also partially upside down like the orange room in the Lover house, which we have suspected represents bearding/stunting. The room having some of its furniture on the ceiling (fully upside down) and some of its furniture simply slanted, might represent her inching her way out of the closet or getting closer to daylight.
Dickinson even envision’s the truth as a light “the truth must dazzle gradually/or every man be blind” - similar to Taylor’s truth being represented by daylight and leaving the dark.
It feels fitting that a Dickinson poem would be directly referenced since the time period of the aesthetic lines up with the poets life. There was even an episode in Dickinson (Apple TV) about women being sent to a psych ward for hysteria. In the very next scene she’s in an 1800s style dress, writing.
The poem also uses the word “infirm”, here meaning weak (that people are too weak to absorb a whole truth), but is the root word for “infirmary”, another word for hospital (or a place caring for those who are ill), where this music video takes place.
“Success in Circuit lies” means you must skirt the truth, tell it at a certain angle, which reminds me of the epic song, High Infidelity, where she imagines her fans finding out her truth and hating her for “lying” to them for years, she sings “I was dancing around, dancing around it”.
I was literally just thinking about this poem yesterday, I’m so tickled that she might have referenced it.
Not to mention fortnight is a word used more often in that time period…
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masterqwertster · 5 days
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I so agree, with your thoughts about Ashton!
It's odd, to me, that Ashton in particular has garnered so much hatred. If you look back on all of Taliesin's characters across every campaign, he's ultimately not that different in personality from the others, save maybe Caduceus. Percy, Molly, and Ashton are all people who have been deeply beaten down by the circumstances they were forced into, and they gained a rough exterior to protect themselves because of it.
They're snarky, and try to act aloof to keep people at an arm's length, but at their core, they still have bleeding hearts that love much more deeply than they probably wish they did. In other words, they are interesting, multilayered characters, that don't just have one note. It's strange then, that these same characteristics are so widely celebrated with Percy and Molly, but are treated as reasons to hate Ashton in the same breath.
Taliesin is a master at making characters that make you think, and I think Ashton deserves to be celebrated as such, just as much as the others!
To be honest, I can't speak much of previous PCs' reception since I only got into CR Tumblr around Bells Hells arriving in Yios, but I think the difference is framing.
Taliesin has stated that his through-line on his PCs is the characteristic Confidently Wrong.
I would guess that the reason Ashton is catching flak is because:
a) they've got shit Charisma and Taliesin plays that as Doesn't Know What to Say and/or Doesn't Know When to Shut Up. Which on a disillusioned/cynical punk is... abrasive to say the least. They tell their truths with little to no filter, or much thought at times about how true those things are for others. Meanwhile, Molly and Percy are charming in carny and nobility ways respectively, while Caduceus has a calm, homey charm. Ashton is semi-intentionally off-putting, and pretty constantly cranky to some degree from chronic pain.
and b) Recently, Ashton is Confidently Wrong about a subject any attentive watcher can tag as being wrong and has major consequences on the world if acted on. Like, yes, you don't want a heartless, powerful murderer to push the Doomsday Button. But your group of caring, weak(? not really anymore) chucklefuck friends pushing the button doesn't change its doomsday nature or really make it any better. Also, all your information on what the Doomsday Button does exactly is suspect. I don't think any of the other's Confidently Wrong subjects were so potentially devastating for more than themselves or their parties rather than the globe. It's easier to grant grace when you're fucking over less people.
Now do I wish Ashton would get a clue that releasing Predathos is bad, period? Absolutely. But I also have been watching him and when they get an idea in their head, he tends to stick to it until proven wrong (think the Spark mess. Fearne hesitated last second, Ashton didn't). And the idea in their head right now is: The gods need to leave, their thrones need to be destroyed.
I think part of Ashton's rage at the gods that fuels this idea is wanting someone to blame that isn't himself for his shit life, and finding the gods a good target for blame, as Taliesin has mentioned on 4-Sided Dive before. And I think part of it is that FCG did a lot of proclaiming to be on the anti-Ludinus/Predathos stuff to save his goddess, and then he died as part of their missions, and then Ashton was shown a video about how the gods absolutely will sacrifice their followers to save their own asses. Which is kind of the situation FCG died in, if you slant it a bit and act like FCG wasn't mainly choosing to save their friends in the moment rather than the gods long-term. So it probably feels better to Ashton to throw some of that anger about FCG making the sacrificial play that he's been trying so hard to prevent at the gods who FCG was trying to serve.
And I get that not everyone wants to do the analysis on why Ashton is picking the path he is. That they don't want to take time to acknowledge his lack of social graces and the bias of his views, and would rather just get to attacking the faulty, insensitive rhetoric Ashton's spouting at the moment. But like, there's reasons Ashton is the way they are, and it doesn't hurt to acknowledge them even as you hard disagree with what's being said or strived for.
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