#and yeah its true and when things happening almost in succession that makes it even more aware and apparent that yeah you kinda do get left

[glitterghost]

Being ace can be pretty isolating at various times, for varying reasons that I don't feel like I have to explain because if you are ace, you probably get it.

#asexual #ace #pride #vague post but you know..*gestures to nothing* #i dont think i even need to expand on this #aromantic #could be thrown into this as well #things are just sometimes frustrating when people dont get it #if you read tags cook bc here we go a bit #there is always this talk of being left behind or being forgotten about or whatever #and yeah its true and when things happening almost in succession that makes it even more aware and apparent that yeah you kinda do get left #behind a bit* #so many ppl want marriage and or kids and its like #what about the people that want to hold on to things as they currently are? #to friends and books and cats and fictional feelings #and the way some ppl you know talk about how people gradual drift apart? #like thats a full on decision #thats not always a mutual thing #people leave at times and another person that might not be ready to end that connection with a person has to navigate their way through it #on their own #but like society is so weird to people that dont want the predictable life path #as you get older questions become are you married #do you have kids like its expected #where are the questions like whats the latest book youve read #whats your current favorite fandom #what makes you happy or brings you joy or whats a good thing about today? #not sure where im cycling down into with this bc theres too much to touch on #but not everyone wants sex or kids or marriage or crippling responsibilities of adulthood #sometimes we just want a hobbit hole to disappear into #a friend to text or pizza to eat or something funny to laugh at

[azulock]

Day twelve, here is the end! And we go back to Oliver for probably the thing I was most excited to write, the Gävle Goat. Thanks to my favorite slut of a man for being from Sweden and giving me the chance to write this stupid thing. If you are cold, the Gävlebocken is cold, set it on fire!

summary. after spending the morning of Christmas day with his parents, Oliver takes you to see Sweden's most famous contribution to Christmas: the Gävle Goat And the infamously flammable straw goat he always dreamt of seeing being set on fire as a child might just have a surprise for him this year. Or maybe, it's Santa who does.

pairing. Oliver Aiku x Reader

wordcount. 872 words

12. The Gävle Goat - Oliver Aiku

"Oh, man, I remember coming to see this thing every time we'd spend Christmas here in Sweden when I was a kid," Oliver beamed, his breath fogging up in the chill air as his gloved hand found yours. "I always hoped I'd luck out one day and get to see it burn."

You laughed at Oliver's words, and he laughed alongside you, pulling you closer to share body heat as you both walked the snow covered street together. After spending the morning of Christmas day with his parents, he'd taken you by train to Gävle, to see the infamously flammable Gävlebocken. The twelve meters tall straw goat had been a staple of Swedish Christmas for years - and so were the many, many attempts to set it on fire, most of which were actually successful.

"What is it with people and setting this goat on fire, anyway?" You chuckled, holding tight to his arm.

"Fuck if I know," Oliver said with a shrug, "guess it's tradition now. And a little bit of arson is just fun," he grinned, laughing as he looked around and sped up his steps, pulling you along as he turned a street. "Oh, we're here!"

The minute you made the turn the public square came into view, the four storeys tall goat standing proudly in the middle of it - being watched over by bored guards, of course. The place was relatively empty, not surprising given the intense cold as well as the on and off snowfall that had been going on since the day prior. Oliver brought you both as close to the giant straw sculpture as possible, watching joyfully as you looked over it.

"Yeah, I get it now," you breathed out, resting your head on Oliver's shoulder as he held you by the waist, taking you for a walk around the straw goat so you could see the entirety of it. "It really does look like it needs some burning."

"Doesn't it?" He laughed, hugging you tight as you snaked your arms around his torso, your steps slow as you treaded through the snow. "Poor thing looks cold, someone should set it on fire."

"Maybe you should do it yourself," you leaned into him, whispering in his ear, warm breath tickling his cold skin. "Take matters into your own hands and make your childhood dream come true."

"Maybe," he whispered back in a low tone, laying a small kiss to your cheek. "Let's go make some Molotov cocktails and come back here, keep the tradition aflame."

You both laughed, coming to a stop as you neared the back of the straw goat, watching the lights on its horns illuminating its snow covered profile and the dim, gray sky around it. He couldn't really say there was no charm in the dream of setting the damn thing on fire, but there was even more in planning arson with you. Snaking his arms around your body as you both laughed, Oliver pulled you in tight against his chest, his lips meeting yours in a warm kiss that silenced the sound of your chuckles, leaving only the quiet air around.

The quiet barely lasted a second as quickly you both heard the sound of a speeding bike, it echoed loud in the silent square, but you couldn't see it, eyes looking in confusion. Though, even that wouldn't last long. The powerful hum of the bike's engine was almost immediately followed by the much louder sound of an explosion. Oliver's eyes quickly caught sight of the sparks, pushing you behind him on reflex, but the explosion happened at the head of the goat, near the opposite side of it.

The fire spread fast, and you and Oliver stood dumb-folded as the fire consumed the straw body of the statue - you both could hear the guards panicking in the background, talking about an arrow and a bike with two people dressed as Santa Claus. It was ridiculous and insane, but the dancing fire before you could only be described as magnificent. At least to Oliver, who realized now he was being granted his childhood wish.

"Wow," you gasped, eyes drawn to the flames as you stepped beside him again, arm curling around his bicep and holding tight. "It's strangely beautiful."

Oliver could only nod, entranced by the scene before him. The panicking guards unable to stop the fire from exposing the goat's metallic structure. The fire, all consuming as it always is, eating away at the straw with speed and purpose.

"This is the best Christmas ever," he muttered, eyes shining with chaotic glee as you laughed against his arm.

"Merry fucking Christmas, I guess," you said with a chuckle, the both of you basking in the warmth of the fire. "It seems Santa granted your wish."

"Two Santas on a bike," he laughed, turning back to you and giving a peck to your lips, smile wide on his face. "Gotta call my dad now, he owes me money."

"You betted on the goat burning?" You asked with a warm laugh.

"Oh, babe, I always do," he replied, laughing along with you. And this year he had won, Santa had come through indeed, in more ways than one.

shout out to: @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife @fivenightsatwhoreville @minarinnn @loser-vxbez @pinksodacan

#oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #blue christmas event #and with the burning of the goat this event comes to an end #thanks everyone!

[vashtijoy]

Loved your analysis posts on Akechi and the PT. Imo I feel like people greatly overblow Akechi's third semester personality. I constantly see him written as being really aggressive to the PT and he IS but also not really? He's cold and pragmatic in order to get the job done, he's not interested in starting catfights with them.

His interactions with Sumire in particular showcase this really well. Akechi's not offering her a shoulder to cry on but he does give her a hand when he feels she's about to compromise the mission.

He insults Maruki to hell and back but it's not like his "true self" has no filter when it comes to interacting with allies.

Thank you! And yeah, I agree. Third semester Akechi is pretty much collected, focused on business, matter-of-fact. Cold and distant as fuck. Cynical, of course. He interjects snide comments and personal attacks into what he says, but he doesn't do it constantly; he'll say exactly what he thinks, unless he has a reason not to. Irritate him even a little, and you'll know all about it. And despite "I'm always calm" being such a meme, he does seem very calm—but I think it is explicitly an outward calm. It's the sort of calm that makes someone seem deadly.

I wonder how well he compartmentalises in that month. He's always shoved everything he doesn't want to face into a box. Is he still doing that? Or is it breaking down? The "dead man walking" thing must colour everything he thinks, for instance—he's prepared to face his death rather than live under Maruki, but that doesn't mean he actually wants to die. There are a couple of moments where he's like... I have a philosophical objection to this, or hey, check out this cool thing. And then he just... stops. What's the point? Who cares? Why bother? He almost seems kind of depressed.

Plus, as far as his ~redemption~ and ~second chances~ go—he's not going to mend any bridges in a month. He doesn't have to come to terms with a damn thing. He can just shove anything that's going on with him down into its box where it belongs. All he has to do is focus on getting his mission over the line. For one month. And you can speculate about how successful he ultimately is.

He still introspects, like in the Jazz Jin conversations. He shows concern for Joker and Sumi. And why does he care about Sumi? Don't forget that at first, in his navi phase, he thinks she's the Palace ruler; he's watching her. But later, I think Sumi makes him think about his own situation, maybe, with the way she overcomes her false self and commits to her true self. And he does like people who make him think.

And what's even left, when all the false, simpering shit is removed? Some of it's the void: the emotional emptiness and the pure determination that got him into such a fucking mess to begin with. That's really him. The impatience with idiots and the sharp tongue is him for sure—he wants to fucking talk, finally, to say at least some of what he really thinks. He's doing the same thing in the confidant: he puts something out there, and sees if he gets pushed back. What will it take, to make them cast him out? How much of him will be "too much"?

So there's also that impulse to keep everyone away, which contradicts the definitely-real Akechi we saw at the end of the engine room, with all his masks gone: "none of that happened, that's not me, if you think it was, I'll make you wish you didn't". It will take much longer to face that than he has. And it would be dangerous to the mission to do it. So why bother?

Some of it's Cognitive Akechi, I think, who showed up unstoppable and deadly at Akechi's lowest point. Don't forget how closely the Akechi fight parallels the Okumura fight, with the beatdown by the Phantom Thieves leading to an execution by an Akechi. I don't know if third semester Akechi consciously mimics Cogkechi, but it seems likely that he is influenced by him; that that image of Shido's reinforces what Akechi would view as his strongest points.

As for losing his shit in combat? Yeah, that's a deliberate choice too, and something he has full control over, other than in the showdown where he uses Call of Chaos. Just like Joker, he puts a mask on to unmask a difficult aspect of himself, one that has no place in society.

I think there's at least a bit of the gutter-rat kid he was showing, when he fights. Every time his voice breaks down (and I work from the Japanese audio because I'm a nerd and a weeb) I wonder... okay, this is a textbook anime breakdown into the villain voice, but is there a class differential here? Maybe it's a British thing but I'm weak for Akechi losing his polished accent under stress, fight me.

So yeah—you want him to be ashamed and cower in the corner? Like he has to earn the right to be there? No, he's not going to do that. He fights the way he wants, the way he enjoys and needs to fight—while still remaining within the confines of the team. And it is only in combat that he's like that; he even keeps his usual surface calm when they're walking around in the Palace and in the cutscenes. I don't think it's surprising Maruki makes him lose his shit; Maruki is trying to manipulate him. And that's a trigger for Akechi, make no mistake.

That moment he unchains himself in the engine room stays with him forever, I think:

HELLO, CREEPY BOY but watch his face: he smiles. He sees something. He understands something. And he doesn't forget it.

#asks #persona 5 #goro akechi #thanks for this anon! #my head is full of cotton wool today and this was nice to think about #i think this is a bit disorganised but i'm going to stop writing now lol #p5 meta

[smolweeblets]

Get Good

Hana "D.Va" Song x Reader

Its quite a mystery how youve dated D.va for this long without playing a single game with her. Although she's been pestering you about it for a while, you never really took her up on it. It wasnt like you outwardly didnt want to play with her, it was just that you did not know how to play the games she liked. It was all just too stressful, they required too much thinking for your taste.

Alas, today was the day you found yourself finally caving in. There really was no question that this would happen eventually. Hana’s persuasion tactics were always top-tier, and this has been a game shes been excited about for a long time.

Her persuasion was so good that she managed to get you two to play together on stream. Youve been in a few of her streams while she gamed before, so it really didn't make all that much of a difference to you. She got you your own setup beside her own, so you both could monitor and respond to chat, since they were quite fond of you.

Youve always joked that Hana only wanted you there because her streams got a few thousand more views when you were there. She genuinely did just want you to be there to watch her, seeing as when you were there, chat was usually ignored in favor of talking to you.

And so the stream was set, she even announced that this stream stream would be a special one with you in it beforehand. Her fans were pumped, and so was she, constantly showering you in love and affection after you agreed.

Admittedly, you were a little nervous, you knew nothing about these games, but Hana reassured you that it would be okay. She was going to learn about that game for the first time as well, she said. So you both would be in it together.

What you failed to remember was that Hana is an already seasoned gamer, so picking these things up were second nature for her, while you were stuck learning the basics 30 minutes in.

Eventually, she got a little impatient, and decided that you two should enter a match already. You tried to protest, but seeing that everyone in chat agreed, you just rolled along with it. You figured if you fail miserably at something it would just be clipped and be a small meme. That was something you could live with.

“You ready babe?” Hana held your hand and grinned, causing chat to move at a dizzying speed. It almost gave you motion sickness with how fast it was going.

“Yeah, at least I hope so” You chuckle as the game loaded.

For first few rounds you were always the first to die. You apologized profusely after each death, and Hana waved it off, albeit seeming tense as you were practically giving the enemy team free resources.

“Im so sorry Hana! I swear ill take better cover next time-” You sheepishly apologized.

“Its fine babe, but man. You really are trash at this” She chuckled. Chat agreed with her, telling you to get good and start contributing to your team.

Oh.

You werent expecting that to sting so much. It was true of course, but in a way you couldnt explain it just… hurt.

Nevertheless, you shook off the comment. It was nothing to get upset over, Hana was just stating facts. You tried your hardest to hide the awkwardness in your chuckle, it seemed you were successful as Hana had her game face back on.

She made you want to jump right back into it yourself, motivated to do better. You avoided looking at chat for the moment, knowing they probably were just going to get you down. You focused on the game, putting in your all. It was effective, it seemed your team was actually winning this time, and your kills werent zero!

Hana congratulated you with every elimination, finally giving you a small feeling of accomplishment.

But alas, disaster had to strike sometime. Apparently, the opposite team had a hacker, and even though Hana could eliminate them, she was killed in turn. Of course, this lead the gamer to be triggered for the rest of the match.

There was only one person left on the opposing team. You were so close to winning!

Only problem being, you were the last one alive. Hana watched your screen like a hawk. Pointing and micromanaging everything you did. Chat could see everything you did through the spectate on Hanas screen. God, this almost felt more stressful than your finals, and those were no joke.

Hana failed to notice your trembling hands and the beads of sweat rolling down your face. She was too busy watching your screen, chastising you for every mistake you made. You tried your best to follow her instructions, harsh as they were.

“To the gate babe!! We're almost there!” Hana putting down her headset to stand behind you did nothing to help your stress. It didnt matter, you were almost finished here.

You were by the final objective, oh so close to success. You started activating the final task, at the final few percent until Hana suddenly screams at you to take cover. It was too late, Hanas loud voice in your ear amidst your already stressed state caused you to panic and react late.

You died. Hana punched the back of your seat in frustration.

“I'm really sorry, maybe I should just-” You set down your headset on the desk and looked to Hana apologetically.

Hana held her face in her hands, grumbling something incoherent. You could also see chat complaining out of the corner of your eye.

“Yeah, I'm sorry to say but you should probably hop off before you cause me to lose any more matches. Even my skill isn't enough to carry you.” She seethed, although not directly at you.

Still, it made you feel like absolute shit. You didn't even know why, everything she said was true.

“Yeah, uh, sorry chat, I'm gonna take my leave now, you guys have fun! I'll be in the other room if you need me” You tried your best to sound unaffected. Who were you kidding, you sounded like you were on the verge of tears.

And yet, Hana still didn't notice. Quickly switching her personality again and apologizing for the delay. She went right back into the rhythm of things, smiling and winning each game after.

It really wasn't all that serious, there was no reason to be upset. She knew that you had little to no skill or knowledge in these things. And you always knew Hana had the tendency to get a little rowdy with bad teammates. You sighed. No use in thinking about it now, best to just sleep it off.

And so you did, only awakening when you felt a dip in the bed, signifying the stream was finally done and Hana was set to lay in bed and take a break.

She sees your barely open eyes and looks sheepish.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” She crawls over to you slowly.

“No, it's fine.” You smile half-heartedly.

A moment passes before you decide to ask. “Did the stream go well?”

“Yeah! It was even easier than usual because everyone was still getting used to the game! Was a little boring though, so the stream was shorter than usual!” Hana beams. It brings a gentle smile to your face.

“I'm kinda sad you didn't stay for long though, you could've still watched even if you weren't playing.” Hana pouts as she starts to cuddle with you. Her arms resting on top of you and her face digging into your back.

“Oh, well… sorry.” A moment passes before you awkwardly continue. “... About that, uh there's something I want to share…” You trail off.

Hana gives a hum of acknowledgement into your shoulder. “Yeah? What is it?”

“Well… its sort of silly but… the way you called me bad earlier kinda hurt?” Your voice is laced with borderline embarrassment. Embarrassment that you were actually really affected by such seemingly simple words.

Hanas face is confused before she fully registers your words.

“Is that so!? I'm really sorry babe! You know how I get sometimes, I just get a little carried away–which is still no excuse at all! I'm really sorry I should have know–nh!” She was interrupted by your hand over her mouth.

“Hana, I appreciate the enthusiasm but you can tone it down a bit-” You wince at the memory of how fast she was talking.

She calms down quickly at your touch and takes a moment to compose herself. You let out a sigh of relief and smile gently at her.

“Sorry… uh, so you wanna talk about it?” She hesitantly offers.

“Yeah, but not really much to talk about… it just kinda stung when you insulted me, even if it was true–” You avert your gaze, seemingly finding a newfound interest in the wall right behind Hana.

“I'm so sorry you had to feel that way– I really should have known better!” You look down to see Hana frowning. It melts you a little inside. Just a little.

“It's okay Hana… Just letting you know for next time, yeah?” You smile softly while you gently pet her hair.

“Yeah, I'm really so sorry! Please stay on my streams though, you being there means everything to me!” Hana hugs you tightly.

“Of course! But I won't be playing anything just to be safe… unless youre going to play minecraft or something, now thats a game I can handle”

“Yay! Sorry again but thanks for not hating me! I really do get carried away sometimes–” Hana smiled sheepishly while she buried her face into your arm, causing you to chuckle quietly.

“Yeah, I know, it's something I knew dating you, just shocked me a little when directed at me is all” You sigh, relieved to finally get that out of your system.

Hana suddenly climbs on top of you and straddles you. She had the eyes of determination you found yourself swooning over very often. “I am going to spoil you so bad as an apology. Get ready for all the love and affection I can muster in me. It's a lot.”

“Oh god…”

A/n: Yep, im an overwatch writer now.

This was originally much angstier in my head but decided against it lolsies

#dva x reader #d.va x reader #hana song x reader #overwatch x reader #dva #d.va #d.va overwatch #dva overwatch #dva ow #d.va ow #hana song #hana d.va song #dva x you #dva x y/n

[grippingbeskar]

salt, ice and fire | frank castle

chapter twelve - ray of sunshine

[series masterlist] [previous chapter]

frank castle x fem!reader

word count: 5.1k

warnings: canon typical violence, mentions of death, injuries, stitches, description of wounds/cuts, mention of scars, violence, gore, death, blood it gets kinda gross but ITS PUNISHER TIME AGAIN BITCHES. also kinda sad frank and reader but look we’re gonna be okay.

a/n: guysssss what do we think. tell me. i feel like i struggle to write good action scenes bc the ones in the punisher are so cinematic and bad ass but i’m trying. also don’t ask me if any of the sewerage system information is right i have no idea and i wasn’t about to google it bc gross i’m sorry lets pretend. hope u enjoy beauties.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hold it tighter”

“Like this?” Your hands grip at his direction, and you hear his hum of approval.

“Now go slow.”

“That’s no fun.” You smirk up at him, but Frank is too lost in concentration to fight back.

“Slow, or this’ll finish before it’s even started.” His hand wrapped around yours and adjusted your grip. “There you go. Just like that.”

“This feels wrong.” Eyebrows furrowed, you see him shake his head in your peripheral vision. 

“You don’t think I would know if it was wrong?”

“Fine.”

“Alright. Now just...” He loses his words as you move through the motion he showed you again a few times, a low noise the only sound your doing something right. 

“I think I got it.”

“Now hard and fast. Don’t think, just do it.”

Letting go of the hilt of the knife, it slams into the opposite wall. Finally, after three days, you get it. Bullseye.

“I hit it! Holy fuck!” You shout, running up to wall. You almost want to take a photo of it.

“Damn right you did.” Frank claps once, and nods, a smile crossing his face. He looks proud of you. You turn around to face the wall again, losing your nerve.

It had been four whole days since you had first arrived at this run down garage-turned-vigilante-base, and four whole days since Frank had kissed you. Or touched you, really, of any kind, bare the minimum of whatever training he dragged you through that day.

It was a good distraction, his never ending supply of drills and routines to run you through. Not all were physical, like the first day he gave you scenarios to break down. He kept telling you how half the shit he did was just as much a mental game as it was physical. If you could put your opponent off, even for a second, you could control everything they did. Subtle changes in pace, in tone, could be the difference between life and death.

That stuff you weren’t so good at, but with your enhanced strength and speed, the physical training was becoming a breeze. Knives had nearly become second nature, spending hours staring down that stupid wall with a target that seemed to mock you, finally figuring out the subtle moves and changes you had to make to slam the blade true. Sure, it was distracting because all you could think of was what happened last time Frank showed you how to throw, but eventually you managed to work it out, thanks to him.

Guns, you were almost comfortable with. Frank was clearly superior, but that was about the only thing you couldn’t match him in now. You could throw a punch, but he showed you how to make them count, how to place them, and especially when not to punch, when to hold, move, duck and cover. Waiting was not your thing, but every day made you better at it.

“Do it again.” Frank stands to the side, watching as you gather up the three remaining knives. “It’s muscle memory, don’t think about it.”

You turn around, not facing the wall right away, and when you spin back you throw all three in succession, as fast as you can.

All land with a successful thud - right where you wanted them to. One is dead centre, the other two slightly above and below, creating the perfect straight line.

“Atta girl.” Frank says from the wall, and everything gets about ten degrees hotter. “We go tonight.”

“Yeah?” He nods, walking over to the array of guns he’s had laid out for a few hours, cleaning while correcting your form.

“They won’t expect it. You feeling okay?” He looks down towards where you were shot, and you pull up your shirt to show him.

“Feels fine.”

“Need to take the stitches out.” He says and starts to walk towards the bathroom. You had thought about that for a while, and you should probably learn to take care of your own injuries, but any excuse to have Frank that close again is one you wouldn’t fuck up.

You go inside the small excuse for a bathroom, and he kneels down in front of you. His fingers dance lightly around the wound, assessing, before he gets the little scissors out and starts to cut the wires.

“Were you a medic?” He shakes his head, and his hand fans out on your stomach, holding you still.

“Basic training runs you through first aid. That and getting my ass shot made me a fast learner.” You try not to laugh, and he looks up at you, catching your smile. “Curtis was.”

“Bomb guy, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I figured you served together. He - he seemed nice.” Another cut of wire, this one made you wince a little, the wound still healing despite the time.

“Best guy I know.” You swallow, trying to get your nerve back.

“You can tell me to piss off, when I ask this.”

“Go on.” His fingers dig into you a little more as you unconsciously squirm away from the blades.

“I was reading another article. One on The Punisher, on the computer.”

“You’re googling me?”

“You told me to research.”

“I meant the maps, not me.”

“Anyways-“ Another wince, and his thumb runs soothing lines along your skin. “They said you - there was someone that you served with, that knew about what was going to happen to your family. It wasn’t him, was it?”

“No.” His movements all but stop as he considers going on. There’s something about him fixing you up that seems to force the two of you to talk about things like this, a kind of intimate trust that encourages you to share a little more of yourself, which is why you got the courage to ask.

You had spent a lot of time on the computer the past few days, and since he had kissed you like a man starved, you had to admit your interest was a little bit piqued. There was no public information about what really happened to his family, and you had no hope figuring out how to use any of the systems on the monitors to find it yourself.

“Good. That’s good. He’s nice.” You were pretty sure it wasn’t Curtis, but the only other two names you could find that served with Frank was a photo of him, covered in mud with two guys next to him, their names labelled underneath.

Gunner Henderson.

Frank Castle.

Billy Russo.

“Is it gonna scar bad, or do I still have a chance to wear low rise jeans at some point?” You give him an out as he stands up, removing the last of the stitches.

“I think you’ll be just fine.” You go to leave the bathroom and give him some space, afraid your question went to close to prying, but his hand falls on your hip, holding you there. “What other names do you know?”

“What?”

“You said you did your research. Don’t get shy now, who else you got?” He was doing that thing again - the thing where you were almost positive he could read minds he was that good.

“A guy named Gunner. And Billy Russo.”

“Billy Russo was my best friend. Family. Spent more time with him than my god damn wife and kids. He was my brother.” You swallow, and wonder what happened to him. Surely it must have been Gunner, then. No one would sell out their brother.

“You don’t have to tell me.” You say softly, and he nods, like he knows, but he wants to tell you anyways.

“He hung around my kids. Knew ‘em, my wife fuckin’ loved him, too. She always had this massive heart, let him crash at our place, fed him. He’d help me out round the house. It was natural, you know? Having him around. On the last tour, he told me he was getting out, that he requested a transfer. Shit got dark over there, we weren’t just soldiers anymore.”

“Was this Kandahar?” You say from memory and he nods. Then he looks down at where his hand was resting on your hip.

“They called us the American Taliban, over there. We’d go in, dead of night, and make people disappear. The guys who ran us - Schoonover, Rawlins; they were selling drugs to fund the operation. Stuffing them into KIA’s and sending them home. Gunner, the other guy, he found out, tried to blow the whistle on the whole thing. He took a video of an interrogation we did, tortured this guy who was meant to be an American ally. He was innocent, we all knew it, but Gunner was the only one with the balls to do something about it. He sent it to Madani.”

“Jesus.”

“After that, everything went to shit. They thought I was gonna sell ‘em out for - money, to do the right thing or whatever I should of done. They wanted a distraction, bodies to bury their shit under. Billy knew.” His voice cracks at the end, and he still not looking up. “He knew what they were going to do, and he did nothin’. Let ‘em die like fuckin’ animals.”

Your hands go to his cheeks and pull him up to you. You don’t know if you should kiss him or hold him, so you just freeze there, his eyes burning a whole straight through you.

“Frank.”

“They were the best. My kids - Lisa was so smart. She was reading Moby Dick when she was ten.” He swallows hard again, and you feel his jaw clench under your hand. “And Frankie he - shit, he was just like me.”

“A ray of sunshine?” He laughs, and the smile that touches each of your thumbs on his face is one you would kill to see again.

“Maria was.” You could hear your own heart breaking at the way his voice got way too soft. “She was the best with ‘em. All that shit was my fault, and I-“

“Hey. Don’t do that.”

“How do you know what I was gonna say?” A little bit of life flows back into his face, and it makes your hands warm against his skin.

“Cause it’s exactly what I do.” He blows out a puff of air, and his hands fall from your hip. You let him go, letting him set this pace. “You wouldn’t have known.”

“It’s been years, and I still think of ‘em every day. What I could of done.”

“Me too.” He still hasn’t stepped away. “I should of moved faster. Told my Dad to take those stupid fucking letters he got seriously. Told my mum not to lock the door so I could of got out quicker - helped them, maybe, I don’t know.”

“You were a kid.”

“Doesn’t matter, though. I could of been 30 years old and it would still have happened. And I miss them every day. Still will, even when I’m as old as you are.” You shove him a little on the shoulder and he shakes his head, smiling small. “I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising.” You shrug, looking away. You feel his hand back on your hip, and the other one hooks a finger under your chin. Your breath hitches. Even though you’ve been sleeping in the same bed for the past four nights, it’s the closest you’ve been since he kissed you.“You uh- You should get your shit together. We might not come back here.”

With that, he takes a few steps back then walks out of the bathroom.

He’s right. Always is. You were going in tonight, and if your brother was being held in the same place as the doctors family, this would be it. Agent Madani would come in, make sure he’s safe, and you would probably never see Frank again.

Just a few weeks ago, you would of been happy to never see him again. That first time you met him, you wanted to rip his head off, literally. It’s what you were sent to do, what you were programmed to do. Now, though, you have had the chance to think for yourself - decide what you want. You thought when you got out all you would want to do is grab your brother and run as far away from this place as possible, but now the one thing you want to do is stay, and it’s the only thing you can’t do.

Agent Madani might be a good person, but she isn’t a miracle worker. You were still a murderer - wanted by the FBI for hundreds of crimes. There’s only so much one woman would do, and you have sacrificed too much to lose your brother for something as selfish as what you want. Who you want.

Sucking in a deep breath, you follow Franks instructions, packing what little you own into a bag and coming out into the main room.

“You know, I actually kind of liked it in here.” You say, coming up behind Frank as he sorts through what guns he’s packing into a black material bag.

“Yeah? Those alarms sound like home to you?” Neither of you had been able to turn them off, so like clockwork every six hours one of you had to shut them off. Sure, it was annoying as hell, especially at 2 in the morning, but it meant you got to wake up and still feel Frank sleeping behind you. He always woke up before you, so it was the only time you could enjoy it. “Take this.”

“Ah. Old friend.” The pistol Frank gave you in that hotel room now appears in your hand. You had lost track of it the night you got shot. He must of kept it when he stripped you down after saving your life. “Did this not get full of water?”

“Cleaned it up. It’ll be like a lucky charm.”

“Oh yeah, because getting shot in the kidney is a sign of good fortune.” He blows out a laugh, and swings the bag over his shoulder.

“You ready for this?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” You go to head towards the door, but he calls your name, snapping your attention back to him.

“If things go wrong in there, and you get your brother-“

“Hey, I thought you said you didn’t to ‘ifs, ands or butts’.”

“I don’t. But there’s a chance things can go wrong. If they do, you need to get him out, and get as far away as possible. No matter what happens.” His face was blank of any emotion, the hardened mask of a soldier.

“I’m not going to bail. I’m better than last time. You know that.”

“I know. Just - whatever happens, you get your family out. Promise me.”

“I’m not going to bail.” You want to tell him the truth, that you wouldn’t bail on him, but you just repeat the words, squaring your shoulders.

“You got a chance at this - to save him. You gotta take it, no matter what.” You feel every word, hitting you as hard as a punch.

“Do you remember what you said to me, that morning after I got shot?” You take a step towards him, pistol still in your hand. “You said you wouldn’t of left me. Then you asked if I would of done the same for you.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“Yes it is. No matter what happens, we are both walking out of there tonight. Even if I have to drag your ass out myself.” He told you that you would have time. Time to do the things you have imagined doing to him for longer than you would like to admit. You planned on seeing it through, at least tonight. “Now move it, soldier.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He walks past you to the car, and you notice how hard his fist is balled at his side, but you don’t say anything. All you can do is hope to whatever divine power there is that you make it through this night, and that there would be just one more, so you can see that promise through.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Stay low.” Frank mouths, and with the minimal light in the tunnel, even your eyes struggle to catch it. You nod, and you both begin to creep forward, seeing the four men guarding the next turn.

You knew coming in the back, there would be men in the way, but at least here you have them cornered, and there’s no other way out. Crouching down, both you and Frank take a side each. He uses his silenced pistol, shooting two in the head swiftly, while you keep your gun your pocket and crack the two guards heads together, feeling the crush of bone underneath your hands.

“Come here.” You tuck yourself behind the stack of dead bodies. The tunnel was only just big enough for you both to lie side by side, and you can see the flashlights up ahead, signalling more people. “It’s gonna get real tight before it opens. This part is small-“

“I remember there’s a cut away, just up to the right. I can fit through the gap and drop in above them, right when it opens to the end.” The hours you spent studying those stupid maps seem to come in handy. All the tunnels lead to one main section, presumably where the waste would have been dumped out and filtered if the project had finished, and it seemed the only likely area a temporary base would be. Frank looks at you with an emotion you can’t place in the dark, and then looks up ahead again.

“Go. I’ll clean it out here. Don’t drop down till I get there.”

“Shout if you need me.” You both stand as quietly as possible, and just as your about to turn and slip out the cutaway, Franks hand wraps around your neck.

He pulls you close, and it’s so dark you can’t see anything but you can smell him. You can hear how hard his heart is beating, running on pure adrenaline. He presses his forehead to yours, and you half hope he might kiss you, no matter how stupid it might be to do that here. He takes in a long breath, prolonging the seconds you have.

“Go.” He says again and lets his hand drop. You spin and turn immediately, knowing if you stood there another second you wouldn’t have the strength to leave.

You find the cut away quickly, and shimmy your way down the small opening above the tunnel. You presumed this was meant for wiring or filter pipes, but either way it was only just big enough for you to shift through. Finally seeing the end, you squint your eyes, looking down and watching as Frank makes his way up the tunnel.

You have only seen him in action once, and even then you were too distracted trying to aim your gun that you couldn’t watch him. He was coming up on about fourteen armed men, all in pretty much a row with little to no cover. You start to worry, maybe he would need help, but he said hold out, so you listen, remembering what happened last time you ignored him.

A guttural scream and a crack of bone snap your head to the right. You hadn’t even seen Frank move over there, but he already downed two men by the time the others realised someone was coming for them. Using the dead body as cover, he fires off perfectly aimed shots, sending bullets into heads and necks, spots he knows will kill instantly.

He drops people like fucking flies. All those articles you read about him taking on rooms full of people with just his fists - you thought they’d been exaggerating, but this was a whole new level. He fired more shots, and when the gun clicked blank, he had timed it perfectly so he was close enough to the last men to fight them hand to hand.

He throws one punch and sends the guy straight into the concrete, and two more men come in at the same time. Holding each one by the neck, Frank yells, and headbutts one while taking the punch of the other in the stomach. It was strategic - he knew he couldn’t fight both at once, so he knocked out the bigger guy first and took the brunt of the smaller, knowing he could finish him off.

He does, spilling his brains out onto the floor using the man’s own gun. He was heaving breaths, and you could hear commotion down the end of the tunnel now that the gunfire had stopped. He looks up at the end of the cut away and nods, then starts running down the tunnel. You shimmy up and out, and when you drop down, Frank is standing right next to you.

He’s covered head to toe in bright red. It’s dripping onto the floor, and when he grabs your arm and pushes something into your hand, you can feel the blood is still warm.

“Take this.” You know it’s his knife, one of the ones you had been throwing for the past few days after you mastered the kitchen knives. “You want right or left?”

You look over the drop down to the main section of the sewer, men with guns running around frantic after seeing a few of the bodies drop down from the tunnel entrance.

“I don’t care, but when we find the Colonel, he’s mine.” Frank nods, and the two of you jump down at the same time. The first guy you meet doesn’t even get the chance to scream before you rip his throat out.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Franks firing off more rounds than he can count. He had expected this - a bus load of assholes running around scared shitless, but he hadn’t realised just how many people ‘New America’ had. Either way, the two of you were making a big ass dent in them, and Frank could only see about eight people left standing.

You were going strong, using a mix of your own training and the new stuff he taught you. It made you unbeatable. A force, and if Frank didn’t have so many people shooting at him, he wouldn’t of been able to take his eyes off you.

Another guy comes at him, and Frank drops the gun. By his count, the ammo in it is out anyway, and he still has steam left in him. Just as he goes to throw a punch, the man stops his attack, freezes in the air, then drops to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Then he sees the knife, his knife, sticking out of the back of his head, and looks up to see a smug sort of look on your face.

“We clear?” Frank says, ripping the knife back out of the dead guys skull.

“Clear. The elevator shaft is up ahead, but there’s no actual lift. They have to be down there.” You swallow, chest rising and falling fast.

You lead the way, and Frank stays close behind, ready to dive in if anyone comes out. To get down, you’d have to go one at a time, climbing the service ladder, and he stops you just before the drop, descending first. It’s a long way down, longer than he realised, but you don’t seem surprised.

“Sacred of heights?” You whisper, reading his face way too easy.

“Just a long way out.” You nod, and begin to come down above him.

As you get about halfway, Frank hears it. It’s a woman, crying out in pain. And kids. Kids, screaming. They aren’t saying anything, just yelling out. Terrified. One of them could be your brother, but there’s definitely at least three people down there. A hard whack echos up the shaft, paired with more screaming. Your both moving twice as fast.

Frank hits the ground running, knowing you’ll be right behind him, and then he sees it.

A woman is strapped to a chair, her face bruised and bleeding. There’s two kids behind her, a little girl, no older than ten, and a boy, maybe around 12. For only a second he thinks that could be him - the boy you’ve been looking for your entire life, and then scans the room for anyone else.

A man in a military uniform towers over them, intimidating as he pulls up his fist to punch the woman again.

“Hey!” Franks voice is more animal than man, blood spitting out as he yells across the room. He’s moving fast, and with the momentum, doesn’t think before he just slams his body weight into the man, sending him straight onto the floor.

The Colonel.

You were next to him, and he looks up at you just for a second. He knows if that was your brother you wouldn’t be with him right now, you’d be over there. You look at the boy, and shake your head. It wasn’t him. He wasn’t here.

“Get them out, Frank.” You were towering over the Colonels crumpled body, jaw set tight. A flash of the metal coming out the tips of your fingers clues him in, and he knows this kill is yours.

Turning away, he can only hear the noise of what your doing. The sound of the Colonels scream was music to his ears, but he cut at the ropes tying the woman down.

“You okay to stand?”

“I’m fine - please, my babies. Please they need-“

“It’s okay. We’re gonna get you out of here.” He knew the look in her eyes. A parent who had suffered the worst of it, he could see it all over her body, to make sure her children didn’t face it. He got all three of them to the ladder, and heard another scream of pain from the Colonel. He couldn’t leave you down here, but it was a long way up.

“It’s okay. We can get out.” The little boy says to him, and Frank turns and bends down to his level. “I remember how to go out.”

“Yeah? Alright, buddy. You take this-“ He gives the burner phone he uses to call Madani to the boy, who’s eyes were wide with determination. “And call the number in there as soon as your up the top, okay?”

“Thank you.” The mother pulls him into a hug, not caring about how drenched in blood he is. “My husband-“

“The doctor?” She nods quickly. “He’s alright. He’s in. protective custody. The woman on the phone, she’ll take you to him.”

She looks down at his chest, recognising the bright white skull painted on it.

“We owe you our lives, Frank Castle.” Is what she says before disappearing up the ladder, following her children closely behind. There’s no one alive up the top anyways, so as soon as they dial that number, Madani will come for them.

He’s confident that they’re safe, so he turns back around, seeing your foot pressed against the Colonels neck, blood pooling in the side of his mouth. He pulls over the chair and sits down, content to watch the show.

“Where. Is. He.” You punctuate, and there’s none of that playful glint in your eye he knows so well. No, this was all business. You look how you did when he first met you - cold, wild. Mean. It’s a good look on you, when it’s aimed at someone other than him.

“I don’t. - I don’t kn-“ You slam your foot in his face, then crouch down as he spits out blood and teeth. “They don’t tell me!”

“Then your of no use to me.” Your hand grips his throat, and he can see the blood start to leak out from underneath your fingers.

“Wait! I can he- help you. I’m the only one who could draw the-em out.” He chokes out, and he watches you consider it. Then your hand loosens, and Frank stands up and walks over. The Colonel splutters, and tries to shuffle away from his approaching figure, but you kick him in the ribs and he falls flat.

“Don’t buy it.” Frank leans to whisper in your ear, locking eyes with the Colonel.

“How else do you suppose you can find America’s most notorious mobsters, huh? Whoring yourself out to the Punisher will only get you so f-“ Franks boot whacks him across the face, and he’s out cold.

“Frank.” You say, and hes still staring down at the man, who’s head is slumped to the side.

“He’s alive.” Frank growls, shoving at him with his boot.

“He might have a point.”

“Bullshit he has a point.”

“We could use him as bait. Draw them out and ambush them when they least expect it.”

“That’s if he isn’t still working with them. This wasn’t his entire operation - he’s still got men stationed somewhere.”

“I know. He could be - but either way, what else do we have on the Gnuccis? They’ve been ghosts since Washington.” He can see the frustration on your face. You had really thought your brother was going to be down here. “Maybe we…”

“No. This guys a maggot. We put him down now.”

“No one wants this douche bag dead more than me. Trust me. But, if we can get something out of him before we rip his arms off, maybe we should try. He’s the only lead I have, Frank, and as much as I want to, someone told me to fight with my head, and I’m trying to listen to him.” The Colonel starts to wake up, his head twisting to the other side. Frank sighs.

“Fuck. How do we get him out of here?”

“It’s probably easier if he’s unconscious, right?” Frank nods, and watches as your fist slams into his jaw, sending him straight back to sleep. “We should move. Agent Madani will be here any second. The doctors family - they were okay?”

“Looks like the mother took the worst of it. No idea what this piece of shit did to them down here.” He looks around, surveying the tiny area they had probably been kept in for weeks on end. It stinks like shit, and there was no bed, no place to be except for a tiny corner with a sheet on the ground. Looking back at the unconscious body, his mind starts to drift to all the ways he’s going to pull this guy apart.

“Pick him up. We need to move.” Before he can argue your on the ladder, and he’s swinging the dead weight over his shoulder, shuffling up the ladder.

There’s a part of him that’s relieved. Not because you didn’t get your brother - he thinks he wants that just as much as you do, now. He’s relieved because he thought that last night was it. That would be that last night he would spend with you, and he played it safe, sticking to his side of the bed, not doing shit about that energy he had no doubt you were brewing on too.

He was relieved that you would have the time he promised you, and that after he broke this assholes face for you, he would use that time to drive you just as insane as you have made him, in all the ways he knew how.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

tag list

@stress--relief

@hellskitchens-whore

@blkwayne

@itwasthereaminuteago

@margoo0

@daisykins

@paryl

@urlocalgeek

@hello-lisa1026

@castlesnchurches

@superbreadsoul

@lemon-world1

@officialpetergriffin

@batcreep

@quackson03

@violetsandroses8

[rashoumon-homo]

BSD Theory - The DOA's Objective

I’m super excited to be able to theorize about this since I joined the fandom late and haven’t read the manga. Lots of spoilers, so this is continued under the cut.

My theory

I think the DOA (mainly Fukuchi) wants to use the book to re-write history so that abilities don’t exist at all, and never did. 

Fukuchi’s motivation

In the recent episode, there were a lot of flashbacks hinting that the formation of the DOA and its true objective can be traced back to Fukuchi’s time serving in the Great War. Fukuzawa guessed that his goal was revenge, but he said that wasn’t true. I think that when Fukuchi witnessed all that horror, he realized that the existence of abilities would only fuel the endless cycle of war. Revenge is such a future-focused concept; it implies that the past cannot be changed, only dwelled on. Fukuchi’s goal is more solution-based. If he were somehow able to get the book and rewrite the world so that abilities never existed, he would both end future suffering and reverse the suffering that has already been inflicted. 

Big risks aren’t actually that risky

This theory would also explain why the DOA is so nonchalant about killing people— if their plan succeeds, those deaths will be overwritten anyway. They’ve been almost reckless with their moves, like they aren’t thinking long-term. They’re able to make such bold moves because they’re betting on their success. A little loss is worth it in the long run as long as one of them is there to write on the page and set everything right again. 

On being “Overpowered”

I think the space-time sword serves as an excellent piece of foreshadowing. It introduces the idea that nothing that happens is set in stone. Even the past can be rewritten. If I’m right, that concept plays on a much larger scale in the DOA’s plans. Battles lost can still be won. People who have died aren’t gone yet. 

I think it’s funny that people get so mad at Fukuchi’s character for being too overpowered. It’s ironic, really, since he is to the other characters what ability users are to everyone else. Like, yeah, of course a time traveling sword feels like cheating. But then doesn’t bringing people back from their deathbed? Doesn’t transforming into a tiger and regenerating limbs? Gravity manipulation; a coat that can cut through any material and become stronger than armor? Regular people never stood a chance. If ability users want war, people will die. 

The name “Decay of the Angel” makes more sense with this theory in mind too. Angels are powerful, untouchable, holier than everyone else. The only way to achieve true equality is to knock them down a peg. In a world without angels, there are just… people. No more overpowered shortcuts. No more cheating. 

Atsushi’s reaction to learning the true motives of the DOA

All the pain and suffering Atsushi has experienced in his life has been directly caused by ability users. Even his own ability caused him a lot of grief for a very long time. The abuse he endured at the orphanage was in great part because of his ability, even though he didn’t know it at the time. And (as revealed in Dead Apple) he was tortured nearly to death because of Shibusawa’s greed for his ability. 

I think that after imagining the past rewritten without abilities, he realized that the DOA’s plan was actually a pretty good move morally. Nobody dies and the millions of people who have already died in ability-fueled wars would get their lives back. 

After finding out the truth about the DOA’s plans, he ran to tell Fukuzawa because Fukuzawa’s current course of action was to try to stop Fukuchi (and that would cause a greater net death in the long run). At the very least, sharing the new information with him would give them both a chance to think things through. 

Sigma’s story becomes even more tragic

The unfortunate side of things is that if I’m right, Sigma would be an even more tragically fated character. He was already brought into the world for the sole purpose of serving the other members of the DOA; people who seem to have no regard for his wants and needs. The only home he ever knew was blown up in one of their scuffles, and he was left for dead. But if the DOA’s plan truly was to erase abilities from existence, he was created with the full knowledge of his creators that he would not survive. 

Since he was born from an ability, from the page itself, he is intrinsically linked to ability use. If the DOA rewrites history to be free of abilities, he would also disappear. I suppose it’s slightly less cruel than killing him; it’d be more like in time travel movies when someone accidentally erases their best friend by stopping their parents from meeting or something. If he never existed, he isn’t technically dead. But the DOA still would have created him knowing he had no chance at a normal life. A disposable human, if you will. 

Conclusion

I have no clue if any of this is right or even if it’s been disproved somewhere in the manga or something. I’ve only seen the anime and Dead Apple, so I’m already working with a lot less information than I could be. But as I mentioned earlier, I absolutely love theorizing about these things, so I’m so glad the manga chapters and the anime episodes are starting to catch up to each other. 

Someone take my computer away from me, I am up at nearly 1 am writing a full goddamn essay about my favorite anime…

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd #bsd theories #bsd predictions #bsd essay #bsd spoilers #bsd season 5 #bsd doa #bsd fukuchi #bsd fukuzawa #rashoumon writes

[commanderbragh]

A Moment To Relax

Banagan sat on the side of the platform and looked out over land of Thaldraszus. The young paladin still enjoyed the views that Valdrakken had over the surrounding areas, almost as much as he did when he first arrived months ago. He smiled and took a sip from his mug as the sun was starting its slow descent towards the horizon.

“Are you enjoying the view?”

Banagan looked up to see his Dracthyr friend standing next to him.

“As always, Skold. What about you? Do you like the view?”

“It is acceptable, but not as satisfying as when hovering above it.”

The paladin wasn’t entirely certain, but he could’ve sworn that his friend was smirking.

“I guess so. But for those of us without wings, I think this will do just fine.”

The Dracthyr sat down next to Banagan and peered over at the mug in his hands. With a shrug, he turned and looked at the horizon as well. “This view will do.”

“Agreed.”

“You are quite calm this evening, my friend.”

“I guess so, yeah. Kind of feel we’ve earned it.”

“You were successful in Aberrus.”

“Right.”

“Though there was loss,” Skold added quietly.

Banagan started to respond but stopped. Slowly he lifted his mug to his lips and took a drink while considering his next words.

“He made his choices.”

“Agreed, my friend,” the Dracthy replied with a solemn nod. “There is no denying that what happened was necessary.”

“We succeeded in our goal,” Banny offered cautiously.

“True. And now is the time to celebrate the success,” Skold continued, though there was a tone in his voice that had the paladin turning and studying him.

“Is that wrong?”

“I would guess not. But these circumstances are new to me.”

“Well, me too, “Banny said with a shrug. “I mean, I know the stories that my..  the stories I’d heard before. But that happened to others, not me.”

“So we are both in new territory, so to speak.”

“I guess so. But we survived and succeeded. So I feel like we deserve a moment to relax and take in the moment.”

“Of course.” Skold sat quietly. “On an unrelated note, the reason that I sought you out was to tell you that a package has been delivered for you.”

“A package? Did you see who it was from?”

“I did not. But it was not small. I instructed them to put it with your things in your room at the inn. The carrier instructed that the parcel came with this as well.” The Dracthyr reached beneath his breastplate and produced a slim envelope which he handed to the paladin.

Banagan sat his mug on the ground and took the envelope. He read his name and immediately recognized the handwriting. He took a moment and looked at both sides before carefully tearing it open.

Son,

We hope you are doing well. The stories that are making their way back here are certainly exciting, though I don’t know how much of it to believe and how much is exaggerated. Assuming that at least half the stories are true, I figured you could use some gear. Let me know if you can’t use it and I’ll make sure to get it all sorted out. 

Safe travels.

Dad

#Young Banagan #Paladin #World of Warcraft #Valdakken

[spacedhead]

homestuck reread #13 act 6 p4

still in these conversations where the kids reveal their true feelings about each other except not TO each other but to someone else. this dirk one is so true though roxy has been the goat of their session and the one fucking thing holding them all together. god i love roxy

wow so cool they all ascended at the same time! surely nothing bad will happen immediately after

theyre finally arriving. holy shit . theyre COMING THROUGH THE WINDOW. JOHN AND JADE

yeah ok so jade showed up and her and jane immediately got turned evil

DAVE AND KARKAT HIIII

this is a CLASSIC dave/karkat mess around. if you know, you KNOW . shit had me ROFLing.

holy davesprite . i havent seen this mf since like RIGHT AFTER cascade. literally its been eons

TRUEE i think its a strider lalonde thing they looove to go on and on about random bullshit

hey its these bozos what up yall

waitt theyre being friendly to each other? breath players CAN get along!!! this is huge news. especially for me.

this actually would be a hard ass shirt fr i need that shit

this is the reaction i get when i bring up minestuck to my friends... and im like guys please its actually fun i promise... .(im lying)

yo its the fan trolls what uppppp

okay nice meeting you

this is all very silly :D

OH GOD WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU. WHY DO YOUHAVE EYES.... WHAT THE FUCK I DONT LIKE IT I DONT LIKE IT I ACTUALLY HATE IT GET IT OFF GET IT OFF

YES!!!!!!!! OKAYYYY TAVROS!!! stand up for yourself girl you are serving like crazy right now. i think maybe this is more meaningful than when he tried to kill her, cause that was just a too little too late type of thing where he wouldnt have actually accomplished anything by succeeding, and also had no chance of doing so. BUT realizing his CONFIDENCE and his FREEDOM actually is meaningful and it will accomplish things later on!!! :D YAY TAVROS

insane behavior

i think i agree with john here, i dont think it is out of line for him to hesitate in giving you the life ring. you dont have to be a good person to be a hero. but you do have to do... heroic things? like, ever? maybe once in your fucking life? when is the last time ANYTHING you did could be considered "heroic?" when you were alive, all you did was make everyone around you suffer. they had to kill you just to make sure you didnt doom them all. when youre dead, sure youre hunting down a weapon to kill the big bad monster, but you dont even seem to care about the millions of troll lives you are mind controlling against their will to be bait for your big mission. who the hell are you trying to save? the heroes that are alive in this story literally NEVER encounter the version of the villain that you are trying to stop. whats more, this big plan to use the your ghost army FAILS because the one who was doing basically ALL the legwork mind controlling most of the ghosts ditches you, and the only reason you still have an army by the end is because the guy you fucking bullied the whole time when you were alive (and a lot of the time you were dead) BAILS you out by ACTUALLY being a hero and a genuinely good person that doesnt need to MIND CONTROL PEOPLE to get them to follow him. look. i understand everything you are saying. about not having time to deal with the morals and ethics of what you are trying to accomplish. because the ends justify the means. but the thing is that NONE of it matters. YOUR PLAN FAILS. YOU GIVE UP and have an actual SATISFYING character arc. then it gets retconned and the main version of you goes back to being Worse. and then her plan...? succeeds? i guess? if succeeding means literally EVERY ghost in the army gets obliterated, the secret weapon deploying the four beta kids who are almost all killed by LE, and randomly davepeta being the one to throw him as well as themself into a blackhole. i guess if that counts as success, then congrats. you didnt even get to see that happen though, because you got ejected from the fight frame one. HOPE IT WAS WORTH IT!

anyway... what was i doing. oh yeah look at this. this is a bit sad

okay this is pretty real. even if it is nonsensical, and maybe a little bit problematic?

me talking about myself three images ago

i like this panel. poor john cannot find his friends

this is a very cool panel as well

FAWK

YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO worlds most epic meetup

my worst nightmare

fucking scary ass motherfucker please get a grip. also brown contacts .

GOD. ROXY IS SO FUCKING REAL AND TRUE. THEYRE ACTUALLY MY GOAT ITS SO FUCKING INSANE HOW MUCH I LOVE ROXY

well. things are pretty bad right now! jade is evil jane is evil everyone is on random planets with no memory of how they got there john is missing. if i didnt know any better this might seem like the beginning of something really bad . but what do i know. anyway catch you on the next one. or catch me? joff i will see you next time. ok joff bye joff

#joff hs reread #freakin out

[inactive-luv]

The Absence of Rain

The Absence of Rain

"the absence of rain is when good things are most present."

the absence of rain

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N meets a stranger in the rain

Pairing: (Spencer Reid x Autistic!Fem!Reader)

Details: I hope I did my best to convey proper Autistic traits; my ASD is not the same as the readers' character, the same way no one's ASD or Autism is the same.

Category: fluff

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Autism

A/N: I decided to make the reader Autistic. This was originally just a short story I made in English lit class my senior year, but upon rereading it, I decided to use the same prompt to write this fic

...

It's two in the morning. The Virginian rain drizzles as it has for the past two days without stop. She loved the rain, even if it was a sign of sadness or sorrow. She misunderstood it when people said the absence of rain was when good things happened. Until tonight when the theory was proven very, very true.

...

She walked from her job down to the bus stop at two in the morning when it started to rain harder than the usual drizzle from earlier in the evening. She spent time analyzing the splashing of droplets, echoing in her head after a long day. Her head raised to watch the water slap against the glass roof above her.

She stayed like that for a while, soothed after a stressful day by the calming aspects of the rain. She was watching and waiting, sitting in her bus stop seat. Her hands folded in each other to scratch lightly at her fingers, bundles of nerves across her skin aching to be touched.

She wants to stay here forever and quietly wishes for a late bus before her peace is interrupted when she sees a dark figure move across the station bridge. Her face turns puzzled, trying to analyze the new person in her space.

He looks tall from a distance. That's the first thing she notices about his body before she investigates further. She thinks about his satchel bag and his converse shoes, how he holds his umbrella in his right hand, and a book in his left. She can't make out the cover, but it must be pretty slim from how fast he blows through it.

She thinks about what would happen if he would walk over to her. She's seen him only a few seconds, yet she feels drawn or compelled to wonder further. He steps to his side, adjusting his stance, and his face falls under the light of the bus station for a second.

His jawline, eyes, lips, and everything about him leaps out immediately, catching even more of her attention. He must have felt her gaze over him, like an ocean wave crashing over a beach. A certain persistence to discover makes her eyes stay glued to the dark figure.

He swallows his lips before turning to see if she was maybe looking at someone else. He expected it. He expected not to be expected of. So when her eyes stayed fixated on him, he was a little curious. And during this time, all she can think about is if he came closer. Suppose he could turn to her so she could find the thing. The thing about him that made him so compelling.

And he does it. He starts to walk over with his book in one hand and the other in his pocket. The sounds she once found comfort in faded as he walked up to her, and everything turned to silence. The soft patter of the rain, once saturated and abstract ringing through her head, turned pale and hushed.

He watches how her eyes still stay attached to him, almost obsessively. A silence fills the space between the two before he breaks it so haphazardly, she can't help but shudder a little.

"Excuse me?" So she turns her head and is met looking up to the dark figure. He's much taller now that he's closer to her, and his hair is long. Long hair so obviously stretched under the rain, with soft curls ever so innocently framing his face.

He doesn't know what to say after that. He couldn't make out exactly who she was or who he was even expecting but, she was beautiful. He finally took notice of the more calming features about her rather than the creepy stare. He saw how her skin glowed, and her lips parted slightly as if in deep thought.

During this time, he notices the silence forming again, and he breaks it once more before he can hear her voice. "Uhm, can I sit?" He murmurs as an excuse he perhaps too eagerly came up with, taking notice of her puzzled expression. "Yeah, here, let me move my bag." Her voice dribbles out of her mouth, laced with an extensive kindness that intrigued him incredibly.

He mumbles a small 'thank you' back while he undoes his umbrella and takes a seat next to her. His head is facing the street now, but he still feels her eyes on him. It takes him a minute to swallow the lump in his throat before he turns to her again, craning his neck to meet her eye-line looking up at him.

His eyes meeting hers makes her pause for a moment before hastily averting her attention from him to anything in her way. The grass peeking through the concrete or the way the rain filled the puddles on the sidewalk.

And just like that, the silence, as well as it faded out, fades back in. The soft sounds of rain climb back through her ears to fill her brain again. Easily and slowly, she listens to the buckling of the stranger's bag, as if he was trying to make an as little sound as possible not to annoy her. But the sound doesn't upset her. It calms her.

It intertwines with the rain in a calming way. Everything blends smoother than she expected. She expected sounds to scare her as much as they usually do meeting a stranger, but the sound of his skin against the leather, and the pitter-patter of the rain, calm her.

So she's at peace when he breaks the silence once more. Although now, his words don't break the silence as much as they seep into the silent sounds, merging to form a tranquil melody. She realizes she could get used to his voice.

"Where are you coming from at," He looks down at his watch, over his sleeve for convenience, a trick she notices because she does the same thing, "two in the morning?" His tone acts as if he made most of his living in the night; the calmness, even in such an abundant presence of darkness, leads her to believe he'd done this a million times.

"I lost track of time in the library." He smiles again, "I thought only I did that." She smiles back at him and feels her cheeks start to swell and pink. He listens to her words; there weren't any libraries open this late at night he of all people should have known that.

He contemplates asking; further, he really wants to. He wants to listen to her voice again and again over and over because, unlike anyone else's, he thinks he'll never get tired of it. But he doesn't pester; he waits, hoping she'd further the conversation herself.

Little does he know she's thinking the same thing. She was thinking about every question he's asked and every question she wants to ask him. But he was a stranger even if she hoped he wasn't for much longer.

It takes a lot of strength for her to continue the conversation but noticing his peaked interest, her tone of voice heightens, "I was working at the university, that's why I was out so late." His questions are answered and followed by more, "Really? What do you do?" he wanted to know everything about the mysterious girl at the bus stop, and she was willing to answer every one of his asks.

"I help my friend who's a professor there, but I'm a medical examiner." His eyes light up, "Really? That's cool." He tries to keep his voice calm, but it trickles out so quickly, and this time she can catch his investment, and it gets easier to talk to him as if she'd known him a hundred years.

"I look at dead bodies all day. You think that's cool?"

"Well, to be fair, so do I,"

"Oh! Are you a serial killer?" Her best shot at sarcasm was successful, he laughed.

Like a modern orchestra erupting into its triumphant climax, the rain, the air, his laugh soothes her ears until she's blessing the world for her ability to hear. It's a kind of sound that reverberates in her mind and stores itself to her happiest emotion.

A type of sound she wants to hear for the rest of her life, but sadly, all of this excitement at once becomes too much too quickly, and her smile slightly fades while his head is turned.

She didn't have too much trouble with sound, so her anxiety heightened slightly when she became overwhelmed. A type of overwhelmed he could sense before he tried to lighten her mood. "No, I just catch them," He turns to reach into his bag, swiftly pulling his federal badge out and showing it to her.

She reads his badge quietly, "Doctor Spencer Reid." That's the first time she learns his name. A doctor working with the FBI. She reciprocates his actions and reaches into her pocket to pull out a card. On it, her name and medical license. "Doctor Y/N Y/L/N." A doctor working in a hospital.

"I'm in medicine. What about you?" Spencer clears his throat and holds up three fingers in one hand, clutching the card tightly in his other. "Chemistry, mathematics, and engineering." Her eyes widen, and her mouth forms a small 'o'; he just twists his face as if he was used to that answer.

And then, abnormally sudden, the rain started to let up, proving good things do happen in the absence of rain.

...

#criminal minds #reid #luvofyourlifeliv works #luvofyourlifelivworks #spencer #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #autistic spectrum #autistic positivity #autistic characters #autistic reader #ASD #autism spectrum disorder #doctor spencer reid #y/n #fluff #autistic y/n #spencer reid fluff y/n #imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fluff

[gingeraleluke]

𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗿𝘀

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: tom holland x fem!reader

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: your boyfriend got home just in time to watch his most recent interview on tv with you.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: swearing, nothing just fluff! :)

𝗔/𝗡: this is my first time writing for tom so i hope you guys like it!! <3

this is based on the spider-man: far from home interview with jimmy kimmel!

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

the young girls heart was silent for the first nineteen years of her life. nothing but a faint heartbeat and some clouded thoughts of little to nothing inconsistencies. from the moment she first opened her eyes as a baby, separating her fingers and spreading her toes while her newly polished eyes tried making sense of her surroundings, to the ripe summer when her mother insisted she become a camp counselor to succumb enough money to buy her very own long-overdue car. the girl felt nothing.

the teens she longed to be alike were a mere hourglass, y/n a shadow. portraying their success and growth without mirroring any of her own, she felt like a weak duckling surrounded by marvelous swans. she would spend her youth watching blondes fall for brunettes on television, plopping popcorn into her mouth while pressing rewind on her favorite romantics, watching the way they would look at eachother and move with one another. she never thought she could be able to experience that. everything inside her was too quiet, too plain.

and then she met tom. it became loud, too loud, and she loved it. everything she thought she could never achieve, she achieved with him. her colorless days no longer existed and she fell deeper and deeper in love with him everyday.

switching the tv from some medical soap opera, y/n sat on her couch. she wore nothing but a plain bra and a pair of baby blue satin shorts. normally, she’d cover up more, especially if she had company over, but tom was a different kind of company and a comfortable one at that.

“THOMAS HURRY UP!” she could hear her boyfriend yell a faint, “i’m coming,” through the noise of the water running. shortly after, the shower stopped as y/n scrolled mindlessly through her phone, impatient.

she expected to see her boyfriend walk out of the bathroom, a trail of steam behind him, but instead she heard the loud roar of a hairdryer.

“for fucks sake-“ her mouth was lacking the salty and buttery flavor she craved so she took the opportunity to use her time by putting some popcorn in the microwave while her boyfriend blowed out his hair.

as she watched the minutes on the timer go down, the machine dinged as she grabbed a bowl and poured the snack inside it. she made her way back to the bench sofa and extended her legs out on the grey island cushions. the lace on the trim of her shorts tickled her feet as she folded her legs. “TOM HURRY THE FUCK UP, ITS ALMOST STARTING!”

the girls mouth was full as she yelled, losing patience with the boy. “IM SORRY, IM COMING!”

minutes later, a shirtless tom holland, wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist, appeared in their shared living room. the girls eyes grew big, his doing the same as he took in her taboo and exposed form.

“what- tom! you haven’t even gotten dressed yet?!”

“well, neither have you, apparently! plus, this is pretty comfortable, is it not?”

“tom-“ she warned.

“i got it, i got it..” his bare feet slapped against the hardwood floors as he quickly ran into their bedroom and retrieved his clothes. he came back out wearing a black t shirt and a pair of light blue sweatpants.

“KIMMEL IS STARTING!” she pointed at the tv and looked over to see tom bounce down onto the couch next to her, sprawling his legs out like she had done earlier.

“baby, that’s just the intro, i’m not there yet.” she peered over at him.

“who said i’m watching this for you?” he turned his head and made a sarcastic face.

“yeah, sure..” he mocked.

“WAIT, i need my blanket! go, get it, i don’t want to miss this!”

“y/n, it hasn’t even started yet-“

“now tom!”

“but what if i miss it!”

“you were there, you already know what happens-“ you lightly shoved his clothed knee and he sprung to his feet, so fast that tessa jolted up and ran after him.

“tessa! calm down!” the dog didn’t listen and continued following her dad, panting the whole way back.

once they were settled, jimmy announced his upcoming guests before a quick commercial break.

“quick, my ass..” she muttered.

tom stifled a chuckle. “why are you so bent up about this? you’ve seen my interviews before!”

“yeah, but i’ve never been able to actually watch one with you! it’s like… an entirely different experience!”

he didn’t believe her. “are you sure that’s the real reason? or is it because you just want me to give you secret info on the film, because love, you know i can’t do that, not after last time.”

she placed a hand on her chest playfully, “tom! i would never, how could you think of me like that?! as if i would ever do such a thing!”

“mmhmm..”

the commercials came to an end and y/n looked up to see jimmy start announcing the cast.

“shit, oh my god, it’s happening.”

“shhh, calm down!” tom laughed, placing a hand on your shoulder, his other arm sprawled out behind the frame of the sofa.

“how can i keep calm!? my fucking BOYFRIEND is about to be on tv! you know how many people can say that they are dating spider-man? like, no one!” her knee was bouncing and she couldn’t contain the excitement. watching someone on television while sitting in the same room with them was a rush she had never felt before.

she was loud as hell inside.

“please welcome, tom hol-“

“WHOOOOO, YEAH!!” she started clapping dramatically and stood up for a quick second, her eyes glued to the tv as she watched her boyfriend appear, while her actual boyfriend sat there laughing at her excitement.

they did a stupid elevator bit, before him and everyone else walked up to their chairs.

“really, tom?” his dark eyes flickered to hers. “what?! i thought you would like it, it’s funny!” she rolled her eyes and smiled, thinking to herself: my boyfriend is a dork, even on national television.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“oh my god, you all look so good.”

“i know, right?”

“look at jake!”

“yeah-“

“look at zendaya!”

“i know-“

“OH MY GOD LOOK A-“

“OKAY Y/N, i get it, everyone but me is attractive, thanks. you’ve made it pretty clear.” he frowned as you gushed over how good his coworkers looked.

“yes, tom! i think you look awful, that’s why i’ve been dating you for the past four years, because i think you are ugly.”

he looked at his girlfriend, uncertainty in his eyes.

“oh, come on, i’m joking! you’re beautiful, come here.” she grabbed the side of his head and pulled him over so his head was laying on her chest. she began to play with his hair while watching.

“so the trailer came out, the trailer got like 135 million views within the first hour-“

“yeah it did!” she exclaimed, her fingers busy in his hair.

“see, i didn’t know that then.” he muttered, his brows furrowing together as tessa looked up at him from y/n’s lap.

“well it’s no secret, i’m not very good at instagram.”

y/n bursted out laughing. it wasn’t even that funny, but all of her emotions where heightened in this moment.

“oh god, i know where this is going.. this is the zendaya story isn’t it?” you smirk down at him and he lifts his head to nod at you.

“i knew it..”

“i basically.. forgot to post the trailer.”

“that’s bad.”

“yes jimmy, yes it is.” she couldn’t contain the snickers leaving her mouth and tom protested against it.

“listen, it’s difficult for some people, okay!”

“mmhmm, whatever you say baby.” she remembers distinctly, waking up and asking her boyfriend why he never posted the trailer, which caused him to wind up into a frenzy and immediately contact zendaya for assistance.

“well, you wouldn’t tell me how to!”

“tom, you’re a grown man! you should be able to figure that out yourself, peter parker.” she leaned over and kissed his cheek, his arm wrapped around her.

“so you’re IT for the team?”

“yeah, y/n, making poor zendaya the it for the team-“

“oh, shush, it was funny as fuck. but not as funny as the time you spoi-“

he placed his finger on her lips to quiet her, “oh, stop it!” she giggled in response.

she watched as zendaya recalled the moment she had to screen record how to delete an instagram story for him, which was another thing y/n refused to help him with. sure, she loves him and all, but watching the panic on his face as he realizes that he messed up, always cracked her up. especially since he brags about how ‘tech savvy’ he is for his age.

“it’s not my fault you’re a grampa!”

“yeah, we’ll, you’re dating a grampa!”

“true, i am.”

her hands reached towards her blanket as she put her popcorn bowl down and laid the covering over her and her boyfriend. the grey weighted blanket matching the couch perfectly.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“okay, wait…why are you guys still in highschool?!” y/n had paused the program to engage in a very serious and heated discussion about the aftermath of endgame which led up to the beginning of his new movie, far from home, which had yet to come out.

“i mean.. it’s five years! i’m so confused.” tom sighed, placing his hands on his knees, he sat up straight. “like i said in the interview, y/n, i don’t know.”

“well… ask the russo brothers! i mean, jacob is right, that’s a huge plothole!”

toms eyes sparkled as he looked at his lover trying to make sense of the whole thing.

“i… i don’t even know what to say right now. my whole life is a lie!”

“okay, let’s not get too dramatic here-“

“NO, tom! as an avengers fanatic, i need to know!” she gripped the hem of his shirt and tugged, his body jolting forwards.

“tell me!” she shook him as he laughed and tessa barked.

“i don’t know, baby!” she frowned slightly and looked at her boyfriends amused face.

“i’m dating spider-man, you’d think i’d get the inside scoop.” she rolled her eyes and placed her legs back up on the cushions. tom leaned over and looked her up and down, flickering from her bare chest and her eyes. he leaned into her neck and started planting kisses. “i’m sorry, i will be sure to ask someone at marvel for you.” she smiled sweetly before thanking him.

“has everyone seen avengers: endgame?”

the girl rose to her feet, the blanket stuck to her bare legs. “yes, jimmy, i have! i saw my boyfriend get dusted right before my fucking eyes!”

tom remembered the first time he watched the film with her. it was hard for him to keep it under wraps and while he did end up telling her some spoilers, he kept out the whole ‘death by thanos’ part.

“okay, calm down little one.” he reached his arm out to pull her down, back to the couch.

“tom, baby, i know you like.. could get in trouble for it but-“

“y/n… not this conversation again.” he put his hand up to his forehead, two fingers on the bridge of his nose. she knew that if she prodded and poked in all the right spots, that her boyfriend would give in. that it just took a little push for him to confess all the dirty details of his new blockbuster.

“come on! i am begging, tom- i have so many questions, can you blame me? i mean… mysterio, like.. what’s that guy all about?! he’s a villian right?”

“well…”

“a hero?”

“definitely not.”

“antihero?”

“not exactly-“

“UGH, tom! you are killing me here.” she whined, putting her hands on his chest as the paused tv shined upon his features. “please give me something… anything.” she trailed her fingers down his chest, tauntingly.

“anything?” he smirked at her.

“yup. like… maybe just exactly what jakes character is? i mean, i remember him telling us at dinner that time, but that was barely enough, i mean.. there’s gotta be more right?”

“go on.”

“and mj, i mean.. is peter finally going to ask her out? baby, so many questions, i just have so many.”

“well… i guess i could tell you one thing..” he tempted her. her lips twitched upwards as she pressed her forehead against his.

“mmhmm?”

“i could tell you that… the ending of the movie?”

“yeah..”

“is fucking fantastic. really, it’s brilliant babes.”

“because?”

“you will just have to see-“ he was cut off by his girlfriend hitting him in the face with a pillow.

“FOR FUCKS SAKE TOM-“

“quiet down! you are going to get tessa all going..”

“sorry…”

a moment of silence passed as tom squealed, “for fucks sake tom!” in his best high pitched, y/n impression possible.

“shut up!”

the two laughed before she clicked play.

“you look so good here, tom. it’s so weird like- i’m sitting next to you-“ she pointed at tom, “but, there you are on tv!”

“you are just realizing this?”

“well, it’s like inception!”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“i was told, it was a wedding!”

her chest boiled with anger as she quickly hit pause. “NO BECAUSE, fuck you for that! i remember being all excited, thinking tony and pepper were gonna have a beautiful wedding, only to see hes fucking DEAD.”

tom couldn’t hold in his laughs. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know!”

“well it’s pretty obvious, tom! everyone’s sad and in black, baby, you really are an airhead.”

“hey-“ she cut him off with a kiss to his lips.

the two cuddled up while watching the interview, small laughs leaving their bodies.

“like, zendaya! when did you find out how endgame ended?”

“oh, i remember. me, jacob, and zendaya were all in a facetime call freaking the fuck out, while my boyfriend over here, was chilling like nothing was wrong.”

“you guys were in a facetime call?” he questioned.

“yes! i was heartbroken and i had gotten a call from z who was clearly also upset!”

“well, he’s fine clearly! i mean, i wouldn’t be in far from home if peter was dead, right?”

she looked up at him, his heartbeat still lingering on her skin. “so you can tell me that you are still alive, but you can’t tell me about jake gyllenhaals character?”

“well, it’s a given! obviously peter is alive!”

y/n groaned, her head now resting on his chest.

“dating a superhero is difficult.”

“aww, poor darling, i’m sure it is.” he peppered kisses along her forehead.

“hey! you ate all of the popcorn?!” tom was flabbergasted, his voice heightening a few octaves.

“yep, and what about it?” her tone dripping in sass.

“i wanted some, for one!”

“too bad, maybe if you would spill the deets on far from home, you’d get some of my popcorn. hell, tom, if you confess right now, i’ll make you a whole bowl!”

“no.”

“well it was worth a try!”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“i can’t believe it’s over.” the house was completely silent, the only thing audible being tessa’s light snores.

“i’m gonna miss that guy..”

“baby, i’m right here.” he placed his hand at the small of her back, looking at her lovingly.

“i’m talking about mysterio.”

“oh, yeah, great!” she giggled at his response. “he’s just so hot, tom! way hotter than peter-“

“yeah, maybe if you think manipulation is hot!”

her mouth fell agape at his words.

“what?” he said, oblivious to the screw up he just made. she smiled widely at him as he slowly was hit with realization.

“oh, fucking damn it!”

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff

[ellana-ravenwood]

“My fake boyfriend is a billionaire ?!” - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : After a few shitty weeks of everything going wrong, you somehow find yourself faking a relationship with the one and only Bruce Wayne. 

That’s it. I did it. After 3 years posting stories on this platform, I finally succumb to one of the biggest fanfiction cliché of all time haha. The infamous fake boyfriend trope. And I really hope you will like it : 

My masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

The Gap Year of Disaster

Today, you were an utter mess, and you couldn’t care less.

You know, this kind of days where you wish you would just have stayed in bed ?

Where everything goes wrong and you just want to hide under your blanket and pretend you don't have any responsibilities ?

Well today…Today was most definitely this kind of day.

It was suppose to be your first day at an exciting new job and you were so psyched about it, that you hadn’t been able to sleep all night. 

You finally fell into a deep slumber during the very early hours of the day, and…

Of course you woke up late ! You didn't have time to take a shower, or to do your make-up nicely or even to brush your hair. But worst of all you didn't have time to get coffee !

When you got out with your bike….it was pouring outside. Ah but of course, because when one thing goes wrong everything has to follow. Everything WILL go wrong. Murphy's law or some stupid things like that !

It's in those moments you wish you had a car ! Because when it rained in Gotham…It felt like Noah was ordered to built another ark !

So, sleep deprived, soaked, in a bad mood and looking like a mess, you managed, by some miracle, to arrive at your job on time.

Only to discover that this wasn’t at all what you were expecting. It was NOT what was promised to you, which was experience in an exciting workplace and a way to make the most of it. 

Instead, it was a desk job where you ran errand for everyone. Amazing. 

This was supposed to be your first try at “real life”, this was why you took that gap year from college. 

“I want to find myself, find who I really am !” You told everyone around you, ignoring those who were negative and telling you you should finish your study first. 

Now, as you were stuck in a tiny cubicle with an endless list of coffee orders you had to get for everyone else, you felt like maybe they were right, and that this wasn’t quite the way you were going to “find yourself”. 

Then again, wasn’t it through hardship that this sort of things unlocked ? Wasn’t it with great determination and knowing how it was to struggle, that you were going to thrive ? That’s what they said in TED talks dedicated to “success”...

So far in your life, things had been rather normal. Not particularly easy, but not hard either. You grew up in a small town in New Jersey, no troubles on the horizon. You then moved to Gotham for college as you had a scholarship for Gotham’s University, and as you were about to start your third year you sort of questioned wether or not this was your path...

One of your favorite professor told you to maybe take a gap year. A few semesters off, to think things through. Taking advantage of it to do some soul searching and try to know what you really wanted and...It sounded wonderful ! 

That’s when you started to have job interviews in many different fields, and it took you three months to finally find something. Three very stressful months of wondering how long you could live off of your measly savings, and wether or not you’d have to move back in with your parents (anything but that !)...Not a very good start to that gap year for sure. 

And when you landed what you thought was going to be a great job, things definitely were looking up ! Ah, but the fact that you were chosen while you had NO experience and such, should’ve been your first warning that this was too good to be true. 

You were trying to stay positive though. Maybe it was only for the first day ? Maybe their coffee person was sick or something ? It’d get more interesting later ? Yes. Yes let’s keep a positive outlook on everything. 

Except right now, as your entire morning was made of you walking up and down the building (the elevator was not working, but of course), to the coffee shop at the corner of the street, and bringing back orders for people, you didn’t feel in the mood to try and stay cheery. 

And the worst in all that ? You didn't even get ONE cup for yourself…This “real life” thing was not starting very well. 

And so here you were, during your lunch break, looking like a mess, bag under your eyes and still wet from the rain (your trips up and down the street for coffee runs not helping drying yourself off), your morale at its lowest..And…

"That'll be 3 dollars and 50 cents for the large latte with triple espresso shot, m'am."

Catastrophe. 

Proof that things could ALWAYS get worst. 

As you were looking through your bag, you couldn't find your wallet !

Did you leave it at home ?! Maybe. 

People at your work gave you the money to buy them coffee (and not a single tips, bunch of cheapskates). And you didn’t notice you were missing that oh so essential part of your daily life...Your credit card. Or any type of money. 

Damn it ! 

“Um, excuse me miss, that’s 3,50 please ?”

“Oh yes yes, um, you know what I just-” 

“Here, miss, you dropped this.” 

As you were about to explain that in fact, you didn’t need coffee (even if when you asked for it you might’ve mentioned it being a question of “life or death”), too embarrass to admit you didn’t have the money to buy it, a...very handsome man handed you a twenty dollars bill. 

You were a hundred percent sure this wasn’t yours. You never carry lose cash like this. A quick look to his kind deep blue eyes, and soft smile, and you realize...

Oh. Great. A total (very handsome) stranger took pity of you. 

You probably looked even worst than you felt. You were about to say this was a mistake, but before you could, he gave the bill to the barista, and left with a last smile to you, taking his own cup of coffee away with him. 

Damn. You didn’t have time to say “thank you”. He vanished as fast as he appeared, disappearing in the crowd of the busy coffee shop. 

“Here’s your change, m’am.” 

“Ah you know what ? Keep it buddy. Thanks for the coffee.” 

“Wow, thanks !” 

You were pretty sure that barista never had such a big tip, and it oddly made you feel better, to make someone else’s day like that. Your grandma did always say that you found true joy from helping others...

Oh, yeah, ok, you just helped someone out, why was the universe so angry at you ?! 

As you turned around and started to leave, almost at the exist of the shop, mood a little better after this nice encounter with a (again, handsome) stranger, and the barista, you see him. 

Him. One of the reason you sort of decided to take a gap year. 

Him. 

Your ex-boyfriend, Eric, who cheated on you with your friend Monica. Needless to say, it wasn’t a good memory. And you hadn’t seen neither him nor her since you left college, especially not since you heard they actually got together. 

Your FRIEND. With your BOYFRIEND. And it went on for a while, before you finally discovered it (that day was as shitty as today...). 

Oh. And of course Eric wasn’t alone. She, was there too. The one you thought was your friend, and who stabbed you in the back like that. Both of them discarding you like a dirty old sock. 

Great. Really. Awesome. This day was going from “bad” to “please kill me.” 

“(Y/N) !” 

He looks surprised to see you, although also a little pleased. And it makes you want to punch him in the face. You don’t care if it’s because he wished things ended another way, they both betrayed your truth and then never even tried to talk to you again afterward. 

You’re not sure you would’ve forgave them, but at least, it would’ve shown they still cared about you in a way. Nobody chooses who they’re going to fall in love with (that, you’d soon discover for yourself). But she was your best friend. And he was with you for over a year. 

She’s a little more awkward than him, and smiles, clearly embarrassed. You always knew she was a bit of a coward, if she wasn’t, she would’ve face you, right ? 

And that’s when it happened. The decision that would forever change your life.

In this great moment filled with despair and awkwardness.

From the corner of your eyes, you saw that nice stranger who paid for your coffee. The handsome one. He didn’t leave the shop, but instead went to seat at a table that was a little further away than the rest of them. 

His eyes were glued to his phone, and you thought : “Well, fuck it, all this can’t get any worst right ?”

You were sort of hoping that, since he had been nice with you once and offered you those twenty dollars without knowing you (although you were very aware it was probably just pity), maybe he could help again ? 

Maybe it was the fatigue, the fact you were getting sadder and sadder, that you had a terrible day, and that you just saw two people you loved and who threw you away like you meant nothing (oh but not before being super fake to you, pretending they WEREN’T cheating behind your back)...maybe it was a combination of all of that, that made you act crazy. 

But here you found yourself, sitting at that stranger’s table, and saying, as he looked up from his phone clearly surprised : 

“How are you guys ? As you can see, I’m great.” 

You don’t dare to look at the handsome stranger, and hope he’ll be too stunned to say anything, and you can make your ex-friend and ex-boyfriend feel embarrass enough they’ll leave quickly. But then Monica says something that makes your heart skip multiple beats : 

“You...You know Bruce Wayne ?!” 

You turn to the man who gracefully paid for your coffee, and your eyes go wide. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. How did you NOT recognize him ?! Of course. Chiseled face, beautiful blue eyes, a suit that was definitely worth your entire year’s salary, a very charming aura...

Your hazy mind full of “fuck this day” didn’t register that THE Bruce Wayne, was the one who helped you out. How did you miss that ? His face had been plastered everywhere in Gotham for the past year, since he came back to the city, in fact. 

You hear yourself wish with all your might to be struck by lightning this instant, as the two assholes who hurt you so much are looking at you expectantly and are not about to live (of course, they just met celebrity BRUCE WAYNE !! Could someone be as unlucky as you were today ?!)

And that’s when you hear a chuckle, a beautiful deep chuckle, and finally turn to look at Bruce. He smiles at you, and takes your hand, saying : 

“Honey, who are your friends ?” 

Your brain go full “ERROR 404″, not quite able to grasp the fact that THE Bruce Wayne just ran with what you were trying to do. How ? How was this possible ? You initially went to sit with him in the hope that Eric and Monica would see you were totally ok and with a hot date, not quite sure still yet how you ever thought this was a good idea and...

It was turning out alright ?! 

HOW ?! 

“Oh um, I’m..Eric. And this is my gir...This is Monica.” 

What a piece of shit. Not even brave enough to call her his “girlfriend” when he cheated on you with her for months and months. You glare at him, unable to stop this gut reaction. 

And that’s something Bruce caught. 

In fact, as soon as you sat down, avoiding looking at him and nervously looking at those two people, Bruce sort of knew you were in an uncomfortable situation. One that made you take an irrational decision. 

And oh, he didn’t like the look Eric and Monica gave you. Like they felt superior as they caught you in a bad moment. Bruce hated, people who thought they were superior to others... 

And you clearly seemed in distress and in need of help so...He ran with it. 

Bruce had to pretend to be someone he wasn’t enough that it felt natural, to run along with what your hazy mind thought was a good idea. 

“Nice to meet you, are you friends with-” 

Damn it. He realized he didn’t know your name. Quick thinking saved him, and he managed to keep his tone even, as to hide his hesitation : 

“My love ?” 

His hand around yours felt warm and reassuring, and you still couldn’t believe that, not only a total stranger, but THE Bruce Wayne was helping you out like that. Especially after you had such a bad day. 

Him calling you his “love” made your exes feel very awkward, and they shake their head “no”, suddenly pretending they’re very busy and have to meet up with someone. They leave the coffee shop, clearly stunned, whispering things to each others that you knew were probably : “how did she get a guy like him ?!”

You can’t help but glare at them some more...But then your hand feels cold again, and you realize Bruce let go off it. Well. Duh. Of course he would. 

You turn to him, your feature softening, and say : 

“Are you an angel ?” 

Ah yes. Your defense mechanism. “Humor”. 

He chuckles, and says : 

“Well, I’m afraid not. My butler would think this is very funny. But thank you.” 

Awkwardly, you rub your neck, your free hand nervously turning your cup of coffee clockwise in your palm. You don’t really know how to end this, what : “thanks for that” and leave ? 

“Thanks for the coffee. And for um...Saving my ass, just there.” 

He smiles, and wow hello white teeth and charming dimples ?! 

“You’re very welcome. They looked like they were jerks.” 

“Haha oh you have no idea.” 

“Glad I could help.” 

“Thanks again. Really. This means a lot, especially since we don’t know each others. Well, I know you. Everyone in Gotham does haha. And ok I’m going to leave now, my lunch break is almost over and I don’t want to make this even more awkward.” 

You start to rise up, but he holds you back by catching your sleeve, and says : 

“Actually miss…?”

“(Y/L/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Miss (Y/L/N), you are kind of saving my life right now.”

“…I am ?”

A flash blinds you. Not a lightning, a camera flash. You turn, just in time to see a guy hastily hiding a camera and running away. 

“What the...” 

“A paparazzi. Good timing, for once.” 

“Huh ?” 

You wish you had some witty come back, or would just know what to say. But you’re confused. And this has been a really weird day. 

“I am sorry if this will seem forward, or like I helped you wanting something in exchange. But I promise I will make it worth your while if you just sit back down and listen to me for a few minutes.” 

You sit back down. More because you’re unsure your leg can still support you in this moment, than because he asked you to. With a smile he continues : 

“Thank you. So. Let me explain a little, and again, sorry if this is too forward. If you don’t want to help of course, I would understand. I’m about to ask you something rather odd, I guess. And I’ll clear things up with paparazzis. I also promise I did not help you with your “friends”-”

“They’re not my friends.” 

“I figured that much. And I promise I didn’t help you with them and ran with whatever you were trying, just so I could ask you this.” 

“Ask me what ?” 

“Well, you see…it’s arranged marriage season.”

“What ?”

“Every year, every single rich family try to make me marry their single daughters. It’s a very tiring season, but I’ve never been able to avoid it…I thought about having a fake fiancee before but could never find the right person.”

What he says does not register with you. His clear proposal doesn’t hit your brain. And you just stare at him, waiting for him to keep going. But he doesn’t, and by the way he looks at you, you slowly starts to understand where he’s getting at. 

You gasp, now pretty sure this is all a dream (or a nightmare) and say : 

“And I’m the right person ?”

“Well, yes. You seem to be a...“normal” person.”

“…Thanks.”

“In that case it’s good. It’s very good. It means that if I’m dating you, a woman that has nothing to bring me, then it must be true love.”

“Wow, stop with the flatteries already mister Wayne, I can’t handle it…”

Ah, your slight wits are back. Good sign that you’re regaining your senses. Everything that happened in the last ten minutes still feel like a bad dream, but you’re back in reality now. 

“No no no, I didn’t mean it in a demeaning way ! But it’s just, you’re not rich, and you’re not famous or have political ties. You’re just a regular person. So they won’t think I’m trying to trick them, even if I am, do you know what I mean ?”

“Gotcha. My broke ass person cannot bring you any value, so it must be love and not just an arranged thing they can break. Cool.”

There’s a slight silence. And you find it a little fun, to play a little bit with the famous Bruce Wayne. He seemed so confident and cocky on TV, you never thought you’d be able to make him look so guilty. 

“I’m sorry if I offended you.”

He says, clearly meaning it. But you shake your head and smile at him (and oh why does he feel his heart tightening slightly at your smile ?), and reassure him instantly (you feel a little bad, actually, to mess with him while he did just really do a huge favor to you while he had no obligations to) : 

“Haha, just messin’ around with ya Mster Wayne. I’m not bothered by it, it’s the truth. I’m really broke, and I don’t think you could find more “regular” than me right now. So, and because you really did save my ass from an extremely displeasing experience back there. And also because you allowed me to see those assholes’ face of surprise and “how did she manage that ?!”, tell me more about your plan, and let’s see if I can help you back.”

And so Bruce starts to explain to you how, every year, this beginning of Fall is the worst time ever, as it’s a moment where everyone seems to want to marry off their daughter. And of course, Bruce Wayne is a good “party”. 

The plan was fairly simple. You’d fake a relationship with him, so he could avoid all of this, and in exchange...Well. You’d gain a lot in exchange. 

This is how you started to really feel like you had fallen into a “romcom” by accident...You and Bruce, became an actual living trope. 

************

“And then when the “marrying season” is done, you can break it off.”

“I ?”

“Well yes, I can assure you you’ll gain quite a rep if you break up with me haha.”

You raise an eyebrow, unsure you like that sort-of overly confident side of him. But you can see something behind his eyes, like a slight unsureness as he looks back at you, trying to see if you’ll agree or not.

“I don’t really need a “reputation”.”

Breaking up with THE Bruce Wayne himself. For sure people would talk about it a lot, and maybe it would help open some doors for you ? But you felt a little odd taking advantage of this like that. 

Seeing that he hadn’t convinced you quite yet, he adds : 

“Of course, I will pay you.” 

What kind of Pretty Woman sort of nonsense was this ?! You were about to protest when he added, realizing how he sounded : 

“I mean, you ARE doing me a great service. You ARE going to have to act, you know ? An...actual job ? And I will be honest with you, it won’t be easy, to find yourself in the public eye. I think it definitely justify a salary.” 

Put that way, you had to admit that, well, yeah it sort of did. Especially since you knew how crazy tabloids were about Bruce Wayne. Becoming his “girlfriend” would definitely put you on the front lines. 

“And it would truly help me tremendously.” 

Your grandma always said it : “True joy comes out from helping others !” So. What if you benefit from it a little ? If it helps you financially, and you can get a little network out of it ? First rule of Alchemy (what a weeb) : “equivalent exchange” ! Plus, he did really help you with your coffee, but also with Eric and Monica so...

And hey, this gap year was meant to help you find what and who you wanted to be. Help you go through this little twenty-something crisis. And this ? Living a literal romantic comedy cliche by faking being someone’s girlfriend ? Well, it definitely felt like the kind of adventure that could help you figure things out.  

With a smile, you finally nod and shake his hand, not knowing quite yet in which mess you actually put yourself into...

Briefing. 

Like every “secret mission”, this one too needed a “briefing”. 

A little meeting to put all the rules down, and the goals too. 

And here you were, feeling very out of place in a huge conference room in the biggest and tallest building in Gotham : “Wayne Tower”.  

The concierge stared at you for a very long time, when you said you were there to see Mister Wayne. No “nobody” like you ever called for his boss. 

Suspicious, as it was his job, he called security on you...Until it was finally cleared up that you DID have a meeting with Bruce Wayne ! 

Both the concierge, and the security guys, stared at you as you left to take the elevators they indicated to you, wondering who the hell had the kind of credentials to go all the way up there to see their boss ?! They didn’t recognize you from anywhere, not a model, not a famous politician or CEO, just...A regular person ? 

That was odd. And they noticed, it was odd. Which you assumed was what Bruce was aiming for, but it felt so awkward, to walk through this huge hall under their scrutiny. 

You finally arrived on the right floor, and oh look, some more staring. 

From his secretary, this time. She was used to see women coming to see her boss. But they’d usually wear Prada, and have plunging necklines full of pearls and fanciness. They weren’t...like you. 

You felt like it was easy, to know that you were just a “normal” person. You were definitely not wearing any designer clothes, and you were pretty sure the way you carried yourself made you super obvious. 

Hence all the staring. You could clearly see in her eyes, that she was wondering who the hell you were... 

She had her answer when Bruce came out of his office, and made a gesture as if he was going to throw his arm around your waist, and kiss you (which made you downright panic). But then, he looked awkwardly at his secretary, and instead just shook your hand. 

Something that DID NOT go unnoticed by his secretary. 

You saw how her eyes widen, and how she clearly hitched to take her phone out and call everyone...and you realized Bruce did this awkward thing because he knew his secretary, and her tendency to be a little gossipy. 

You’d discover later, in fact, that he hired her entirely because he knew if he said something, she would pick up on it and it would help him control rumors and such. Clever. 

For the moment though, he took you to a large conference room with huge windows. 

“I’m sorry for the weird “hello” back there, I wanted Shirley to think I was embarrassed to display affection to you in front of her. Usually, I do not mind at all. So doing it would make her think that-”

“I’m someone special to you.” 

“Exactly !” 

He smiles widely as you understood his plan (not sure how you felt about it, then again, that’s why you were here for, making sure you knew where both of you stood in all this), and then tells you he’ll be back in a few minutes. 

You have time to feel anxious and stressed before he finally comes back. 

“Sorry for the wait.” 

“Oh no, I bet you’re a busy man.” 

“Yes well. Anyway. Let’s get to it shall we ?” 

“Yes.” 

“Ok. So. I thought we’d settle sort of a little contract, so neither of us ever feel uncomfortable ?” 

“Sounds good, mister Wayne.” 

“Yes well first, please call me Bruce.” 

“Only if you call me (Y/N).” 

Oh and you two were still on the path of “romcom cliches”, with this conversation. He smiles, nods, and continues : 

“Ok, then I thought we could-” 

And so your fake relationship started, with some little ground rules. Like he could only kiss you after you gave him permission, if you ever felt overwhelmed everything would be called off, etc etc. 

Most rules were in your favor, to be honest. And WOW the paycheck he was going to give you for this little farce...Hey, maybe this gap year was finally gonna get interesting ?

Meeting the Little Buddy. 

It was sort of necessary. By then, Dick had been his son, officially, for a few months. He wasn’t calling him “dad” yet (and Bruce didn’t particularly want him to, at the time...ah but everything change one day, right ?), but they were already family. 

And it was a needed step. 

It wasn’t in the little “contract” you made, and honestly you could’ve refused to meet him but...Well, you liked kids. In another life, it felt like you could’ve been a teacher (A/N : AH, like in this story ;) : “Can you be my dad’s girlfriend, please ?” ). 

And you’d feel awkward, to fake a relationship and not ever meet his boy. 

The first time he saw you, it was at the Wayne Tower, and his eyes widened as he exclaimed : 

“Wow you’re so pretty ! Are you Bruce’s girlfriend ? You’re too good for him, you know.” 

You could feel your heart melt, how adorable this little guy was, right ? You chuckled, and almost full on laughed as you saw how vexed Bruce was by the comment. 

Not that he thought he was too good for you, no, he was just a little unhappy his son was stealing the show, and thought he couldn’t land someone like you...Oh but that, you couldn’t guess at the time, of course. 

“Nice to meet you, Dick. I’m (Y/N). And...I’m not really his girlfriend.” 

“Can you be mine then ?” 

You laugh again. You and Bruce had decided to tell him the truth, Bruce assuring you that kid was good at pretending too. You answer : 

“No, I’m saving him from marriage proposal.” 

“Oooooh !” 

Good at pretending. Dick had no idea what you were on about, but he was very good at acting as if he knew. 

It’s only way later, that he finally got it. By then, he already accepted you as : “his dad’s girlfriend”, and even knowing the truth, there was no way to change his mind. And to be honest, out of everyone, little Dick Grayson was probably the most aware of what the situation truly was. 

He had a knack, to notice how people felt. 

A “family” outing.

Two months in, and it was going GREAT. Faking a relationship was actually pretty easy. All you had to do was hanging out with him (and he was very nice to hang out with), and when a paparazzi was around, quickly kiss his cheek, or hold his hand, or let him put his hand in your hair...All those cute things new couples do. 

Today was one such small date. 

You could see Bruce was nervous, though.

After hanging around with him that many times, you started to know him a little better. Started to know he wasn’t really that persona he portrayed publicly.

He was actually quite a dork. What a pity, nobody else would ever know his real self...Yet, it made you happy you were one of the few in on the secret.

“Ok, out with it mister, what’s up ?”

He looks at you with such surprise in his eyes, as if it was the first time someone guessed what he was feeling...and, well, yes. It was. It was the first time someone who wasn’t Alfred got it. Someone realized something was on his mind. And asked him about it, didn't just ignore and move on. Actually cared to know. 

“I-Um...”

“Well ? Come on, I think literally nothing can surprise me by now, given you know, I’m faking a relationship with a billionaire, and it’s like, my job now.”

He smiles, and he couldn't possibly know how soft his look was, as he gazed at you.

“I...well, people don’t quite believe in us because-”

“WHAT ?! With all the “dates” and kisses and lovey dovey shit we did ?!”

He chuckles at your reaction, loving how honest you always were, and adds :

“The problem apparently is that you weren’t seen with my son yet, so many don’t believe we’re serious.”

“Oh...”

You met Dick. Because it felt like a necessary step to yours and Bruce’s scheme. And you knew he knew this was all fake...But neither of you wanted to confuse the boy in any way so he was kept mostly out of the plan.

“I talked to him, and it’s actually really up to wether you’re comfortable with it or not. I know he wasn’t part of our contract, and I should’ve probably thought about it, I’m sorry. But um...If you’re ok with it, we could..Do things with him, too ?”

Bruce is really nervous; And you’re pretty sure no one but you (and maybe Alfred) ever saw him like that. It’s kind of...sweet. But you let the silence linger for too long and he hurries to say :

“You really don’t have to ! It’s ok if they don’t think we’re that serious and I get some proposals. I can manage ! You’re still a great help right now. It was just an idea. Dick is a very social kid, he would go along with anything and loves to do activities outside. He would be fine. But if you’re not then we can-”

“No. No no it’s...It’s ok Bruce. The few time I saw him, Dick did seem absolutely a peach to be around. And I always have fun with you, so sure, let’s organize a little something and show those bastards we’re totally real.”

You chuckle a little, your smile and carefree face making his heart skip a beat, for some reasons...Bruce also decided to ignore how happy it made him, to know you were always glad to be with him, and instead, he smiled and settled a date.

************

And here you were. In one of Gotham’s biggest park, opening a basket full of delicious sandwiches made by the one and only Alfred. Pretending to have a great family outing.

“Hey, hey look !”

Dick was absolutely amazing, at acting as if you were really a thing. As if you were really a “family”. Right now, he was doing flips and cartwheels, demanding your attention with avidity.

Bruce made sure to always hide his face from pictures (he was GREAT at noticing where paparazzis were hiding, a life of practice, you assumed), as he wanted to keep as much as he could his son’s privacy (especially after he made all the headlines when he lost his parents).

It was quite adorable. And...You were really having fun.

Dick was such a lively kid, and he was full of talents. The food was good, and it was so comfortable around Bruce. It felt so natural.

This wasn't all that bad. To fake being a family. A good use of your gap year, really. 

You purposefully decided to ignore the glint in the boy’s eyes. The way you sort of suspected for him, this was getting real, and not only pretend.

You and Bruce purposefully ignored it, actually. And you both felt shitty for it. Because not only were you risking to break that little boy’s heart when it was all over but...It was too hard to accept that maybe, maybe he was right.

And that all of this ? Might’ve not been as fake as you’d love to repeat yourself.

First Official outing. 

First gala. You were terrified. So far all you had to do was hang out with Bruce in the afternoon, there and there. It mainly consisted in him buying you coffee, and keeping the addiction to caffeine real, while talking about anything that would come to your mind. The conversations between you two was always fluid and pleasant. 

Or you’d go out with him and Dick, to do some fun things like mini-golf or catching a movie. Nothing too big and scary. It was mainly just you guys, no one else. 

It seemed like he knew where the paparazzis would be (most likely because he was “anonymously” tipping them off himself), and he’d take you on random short dates when he had time in between his work, slowly fueling the rumors Bruce was not a heart to steal anymore. 

And that he was dating a “commoner” ! (He hated this name for you, while you really didn’t mind that much). 

And this gala, was what made it completely official. Finally. It was your idea, to take things “slow”, and hang out with him and his son BEFORE hanging out in public areas like this. 

It was clever, really. To make it seems like you were trying to “hide” your relationship by being low-key, to then finally announce everything in public like that, at such an event. 

Bruce went to get a drink for the both of you, and you were looking around you, horrified at the mere idea that someone would come talk to you. 

But for some reasons, nobody seemed to dare. Maybe Bruce made sure that people would leave you alone ? Even as if you were clearly the talk of the evening, all eyes on you, and not even trying to be subtle ? 

You knew he did the same with little Dickie. That he made sure he was safe from the paparazzi and that no unsolicited journalist would come around him.

Thinking of it, where was the little one ? Usually, according to Bruce, whenever there was a gala he would spend his entire time near the food table, eating as much as he could, and he would come home feeling nauseous because of it...Haha sounded like Dick alright. That kid was so-

Oh oh.

Who was that sleazy looking gal talking to him ? He seemed so uncomfortable, yet too polite to brush her off...Oh no, she wasn’t one of them, was she ?

Without thinking twice about it, wether it was your place to do what you were about to do or not, you resolutely walked towards them.

“-Think it’s because he relates to you ? As both of you lost your parents in horrific situations, you know ?”

“I-I don’t know m’am.”

When you saw Dick’s distressed face, and his eyes slowly filling with tears, there was no doubt in your mind.

This woman was not supposed to be there, and was definitely not supposed to talk to that child...

This woman was a - shiver of disgust- tabloid journalist.

Your blood boiled as you saw her take a picture of the teary eyed Dickie, and you were standing protectively in front of him before you could even think about it. When you felt the boy clutch to your sleeve, hiding behind you and holding on for dear life, you knew you wouldn’t regret it.

“Can I ask you why you’re talking to that boy, please ?”

“What, it’s illegal to talk to fellow guests now ?”

“Lady, you’re well in your thirties. He’s eight. You have no right talking to him. Not only is it weird, but I know what you’re doing.”

“Oh, and pray tell, what am I doing, lovey ?” 

“You’re trying to get a story out of him. And you should be ashamed of yourself. He’s eight ! And from what I heard, you were asking some very disgusting things back there !” 

“I-”

“Shut up.”

Your words came out harsh and determined, and the woman was so shocked she stayed silent for a while. You crouch down to Dick’s level, and ask : 

“Are you ok, my little buddy ?” 

He nods weakly, and then burst into tears as he launches himself in your arms, clinging to you tightly. You turn your head towards the woman, glaring at her so fiercely she doesn’t dare to take a picture of the scene, even as she knows she could sell them for a golden price. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself. He’s just a child !” 

The woman was about to say something else, something you knew would fuel your anger further, when Bruce arrived, and it was clear from his face that he was not happy. 

A quick look to you holding his crying son in your arms, and to the lady with the camera in her hands, and he understand what happened. With a cold voice you never heard him use before, he says : 

“I suggest you leave the area now, before I force you to.” 

There was something almost scary, in his demeanor. Almost like...No. Impossible. In any case, you didn’t worry about it much, drawing soothing circles with your hand on Dick’s back, trying to calm him. 

People around quickly stopped staring as they met Bruce’s assassin glare. It was not secret, that he was very protective of his son. And of his new girlfriend, apparently. 

You picked the little boy in your arms (Dick, at the time, was still so tiny), and Bruce comes closer, trying to soothe him too. And it really looked like all this was real...

Dick fell asleep in Bruce’s arms shortly after that, and was still there when it was time for the gala official pictures. Not wanting to wake him up, for once, Bruce allowed people to photograph the boy, as long as they did not frame his face. 

He laid his free hand on the small of your back, and just like you got used to those past months, you pretend to be head over heels for him and have one of your own arm around his waist.  

“Would you please allow me to kiss you on the cheek, for the cameras ?”

His question is so sweet, softly whispered in your ears. And you felt like a tease tonight, and maybe a little tipsy too. You tell him : 

“On the cheek only ? Let’s give them a show no ? Let them forget about what happened with Dick.”

Of course, you’re only joking, but there’s a light in Bruce’s eyes you haven’t seen before and...It disappears quickly. He chuckles, of that low chuckles that would charm anyone in the world, and says :

“I don’t want to force you to do anything you wouldn’t want to. Actually kissing me, I realize, might be too much.”

You know he caught on your joke, but you can’t brush off that light in his eyes that ignited when you suggested to kiss him...You don’t know why, and it feels you’re not controlling your own words, as you hear yourself say :

“Oh because kissing you would be such a horrible thing wouldn’t it ? Oh my, you’re only one of the handsomest man in Gotham, a rather attractive fella, how could I handle kissing you ? So disgusting !”

Your tone is teasing, and a little bit challenging. He catches on that, too. He answers : 

“But I am merely here to serve. I will do as you wish. You only have to say the words.” 

His smile fills your vision. His face. And the way he softly holds your waist, even as his other arms is carrying his son (the man was BUILT). And you think...Well, fuck it ! It was time for the first (fake) kiss, right ? 

Right here, in front of the cameras, where everyone was seeing you. Making it go full circle. Making it “official”. 

“Kiss me then, if you dare.” 

You simply say. Releasing a breath you were unaware you were keeping in. And he feels his heart squeeze, and as if he’s sweating a bit. When was the last time he was nervous about kissing a woman ? 

He couldn’t remember. 

And then he kisses you, the flashes of cameras slowly fading away as his lips melt onto yours. 

Wow. What a perfect, and nice, first kiss. 

As fake as it might be.

Your room. 

Your room at Wayne Manor was bigger than your entire apartment. 

You and Bruce decided that sometimes, so you wouldn’t raise any suspicion, you’d sleep at the Manor. Paparazzi were so on top of everything, it would seem weird if he was in a “committed relationship” and you never slept at his place. 

So Alfred settled a room for you. 

Oh. Alfred ! You met him not long ago, and he was the best ! 

It felt like he could magically guess what you wanted when you wanted it, and magically appeared with that warm cup of tea you craved, or that meal you’ve been thinking about all day. 

But beyond that, he was genuinely nice and made sure to make you as comfortable as possible. He showed you around, and his conversation was so pleasant ! 

You could actually see a lot of Bruce in him. Or, rather, it was evident that Alfred had raised Bruce most of his life, because they had a lot of similar mannerism, and were both kind and caring (Ah, imagine if Superman knew what you thought of Bruce, how crazy it’d sound to him eh ? But of course, that you’d discover way WAY later). 

You never went to explore much when it was time to go to bed, too afraid to get lost. This place was huge, and you never quite had a good sense of orientation. 

One could only wonder, what would you have discovered if you ever dared to wake up during the night, and explore his home ?

Build a Bear. 

Sometimes, Bruce really had to wrack his brain for original date ideas. Ever since he came back to Gotham, his dating days consist of pretending to sleep with every model in the World. 

He’d take them to fashion shows, to galas, to charity events...All very public places, unsuitable for a “serious” relationship like he was hoping to make yours and his pass for. 

Enter : Clever little Dickiebird, who always had an idea (and who might’ve been the best wingman someone like the Batman needed...that, of course, he’d discover it way, WAY later) :

“You can take her to a build a bear !” 

“Build...a bear ?” 

“Yeah, you know. You go and you make your own teddy bear !” 

“I do know, I took you to get Chester - the name of Dick’s favorite plushie toy now, and maybe with which he slept-. But...For a date ?” 

“What ? It’s cute and intimate !” 

“Huh ?” 

It has been a long time, since Alfred Pennyworth had to hold his laughter in that hard, and try to stay impeccably neutral. And there, faced with his master Bruce, who was known as the “ultimate womanizer”, the “perfect playboy”, and who was currently taking advice from his eight years old son...It was really hard to keep a straight face. 

It was also incredibly adorable. Especially how Bruce seemed to genuinely listen to the little one, unaware that he seemed actually way too interested for things just to be for his “fake relationship” to be more convincing. 

Not that Alfred was going to tell Bruce anything. 

“Dick, you know (Y/N) isn’t really my girlfriend, right ?” 

The way the boy talked about taking you to a date, felt to Bruce like he was forgetting this was all fake. And it was important to remind him.

But Dick had to invoke all the efforts in the world to not roll his eyes as to say : “sure she isn’t”, by now, it was oh so obvious to everyone but you and Bruce that there was a very real thing forming between you two. 

Instead, he said : 

“But you’re suppose to make the public really believe it right ? If you take her to build a bear, I can assure you they will think you guys are the real deal.” 

Bruce pondered this for a little bit, and realized that his son was right. It did seem like a cute and intimate date to bring your girl to, even if she was your fake girl...

Ah. Bruce forgot his own words. “Dick is great at pretending.” He is. He really is. Just like right now, he was pretending his idea was completely innocent, while he knew it would bring you two ever so closer. 

That whenever you’d see those bears you were going to build in your home, you’d think of one another. And remember fondly of the memory. 

And oh. Oh that boy was right. 

Your bear was sitting proudly on your couch, and every time you saw it, you remembered how clumsy Bruce had been, filling his own bear up. And how cute he was, carefully thinking of his options. 

And every time Bruce saw his own bear, that Alfred, for some reason, settled in the Batcave on the “trophy shelves” (and for some reason Bruce didn’t take it off of it...), he couldn’t help but think how he had genuine fun that day. 

Genuine fun, for the first time in what felt like ages. And how your smiling and giggling face didn’t seem to leave his mind, whenever he saw that bear...

Conniving traitors. 

“We both agree, he’s in love with her right ? He’s just too dense to realize it.” 

“Oh yes, young Master Richard, he definitely is. And he is dense, at times.” 

“Should we do anything ?”

“No more than what you’re already doing.” 

“Which is ?” 

“Which is continuing to push them in the...Right direction.”

“Oh ! I get it ! I’ll keep going Al’!” 

“And I’m sure you’ll make miracles, young master.” 

Dick’s smile to the old butler was so pure and happy, that Alfred had a hard time keeping his composure once again. 

And oh. Oh how he wish they were right, and that his Master Bruce would FINALLY allow himself to be happy... 

Rumors and Truth 

Bruce was just a tiny bit older than you. 24, according to his wikipedia page. 

And you couldn't help but be a little jealous, as you were looking at the page to re-enroll yourself in Gotham’s university, knowing he was done with college.

Then again, he was obviously a genius and would’ve been done faster than you anyway, even if you were the same age, since he finished his PhD just the year before, while most people don't even START their doctorate until they're around 23/24. 

Mmmm. Made you think. Was this just yet another rumors about the man ? 

Maybe not, after all it was proven he started college at age 14, and in Ivy Leagues ones, all across the world. 

From Cambridge, to Oxford, without forgetting La Sorbonne (A/N : by the way, this is canon haha, Bruce really did start college that early and went to many different places, and honestly, is anyone surprised ?). 

This wasn't really something you absolutely couldn't believe, compared to other crazy rumors about him. And you knew he WAS smart. 

By then, you couldn't count how many things were circulating about him, and how hard it was to know the truth from just plain old rumors. 

He had over a thousand lovers, he had MORE than one PhD (impossible, right ?), he had died once but survived somehow, he was part of a cult, he often lost his status as a billionaire because he gave so much money to charities and such, but his companies meddled in so many areas that his bank account was always filled more and more…

Honestly that last part didn't really surprise you. You saw him gave his money away to things he cared about (like education and medical care) without a second thoughts, so the fact he constantly oscillated between "billionaire" and "multi-millionaire" didn't really surprise you, not when you knew him like you did now. 

You totally trusted the rumors that said that by now, he gave away more than he currently owned. It sounded like him alright…But how to know the truth from the downright crazy ? Did he really have a PhD or was this just an addition to how special and different Bruce Wayne was in Gotham ? What kind of PhD did he have anyway ? 1000 lovers, really ?!

So many questions. And not a lot of answers. Even if you grew closer (as friends, of course), Bruce was still somewhat of a mystery to you. 

He never really tried to dismiss rumors, even the bad ones (unless they touched his son). Which made you wonder if they were true or not. And you really, really, for some reasons, wanted to know more about him...

“Is something the matter ?” 

He asks. Oh goddamn you, day dreaming on one of your regular “coffee date”. 

You shake your head, sipping on your drink and say : 

“Was just thinking about...Tabloids.” 

“Ah.” 

He frowns. For understandable reasons.

“I was just thinking about wether some rumors were true or not.” 

“What do you think is not true ?” 

“I don’t really know, and you never really say a rumor is false so it’s hard to know.” 

“Do you want to know anything in particular ?” 

Bruce knows it’s dangerous, to let you enter his private life like that. There’s a reason, after all, why he never dismisses any rumors. 

It helped build his fake persona, and take away any suspicions that he might be the infamous Batman. 

But he felt weak, around you. As if he just wanted to please you, no matter what. Sometimes, he felt dangerously close to just tell you : “ask me anything and I’ll tell you the truth”, even if it meant revealing his night activities...

Crazy, right ? 

He knew it was. And that he shouldn’t let it happen. Yet here he was, asking if you wanted to know something. Craving your attention. It felt so unlike him. But...You seemed to unlock a certain part of him. 

The one that didn’t die with his parents, and remained hidden. The one that was the old little Bruce, full of hope, honesty and happiness. Full of wish for the future...Even if he knew there was none. 

“How was college, for you ?” 

You hear yourself asking, really wondering if it was true he was 14 when he started, and if it was...How different you guys were, right ? You were 21 right now, and taking a gap year after two years of college...When he was your age, he had already finished a master (or even maybe two). 

"My college years were actually pretty boring, and unlike some rumors say, weren't particularly wild. I was really young."

"Ah, I heard the rumors."

"Those are true, I'm afraid haha."

"Afraid ? You're a genius !"

Which is why you found, more and more, his "himbo" persona to be odd. WHat was Bruce Wayne trying to hide ? Mmm…

Bruce recognized that look in your eyes. The look of someone who was onto something, and it was too frightening to let it happen. So he said :

"Yes well, I feel I missed a lot, during those years. Which is why I make it up now hahaha !"

His boisterous laughter seemed genuine, and totally fooled you. You couldn't always be on top of everything eh ? And this, did answer your question about his himbo persona…Oh, Bruce was good.

And he knew it. He trained for years, to make sure nobody would ever even suspect him to be Batman.

But he had to be careful with you. He knew it. It was obvious. You weren't that easy to fool…

The Day Batman saved you. 

The fact he had to be careful with you was confirmed not long after. When, as Batman, he came to your rescue.

He should’ve known, that even with a voice changer, and a mask covering most his face, plus a demeanor that was completely different from his usual one, you’d still get suspicious...He should’ve known because he, by then, knew you quite well. 

But, what ? Was he suppose to just let you get mugged ? 

He couldn’t. 

Even if in the grand scheme of things, it would’ve been better, and he would definitely intervene if it got too rough...He couldn’t. 

He couldn’t bear the thought of you getting hurt, or feeling distressed.

He knew this was stupid. That he shouldn’t get so attached. That muggings weren’t really his area of expertise, that to stop them, he had to hit the big bosses. He knew. Small thugs weren’t his target. He had a much bigger vision. And rationally, he should be somewhere else right now. 

Yet he couldn’t resolve himself to. Because, and that was a dangerous thought and feeling, he was in l- 

“Why are we spying on your girlfriend ?” 

Dick’s voice takes him out of his reveries, good. It WAS getting dangerous. Still keeping you in his field of vision (you were slowly going back to your apartment, a few minutes still, and he could leave to do other things knowing you were safe and sound in your home), he answered :  

“We’re not spying on her, we’re making sure she’s safe. And she’s not my girlfriend, you know that.” 

“Oh yeah ? We’ve been following your “totally not girlfriend” since the night started, awfully looks to me like we’re um, you know, stalking her.”

“We’re not.” 

“Suuuuuuuuuure.” 

Bruce gives an annoyed look to his son, who had way too big a smug face right now, and says : 

“The night is calm, if something comes up we’ll go. But right now, it’s alright. And it has been made official, that she and I are a couple.” 

“Fake couple.” 

“Fake one to us, not to the public eye.” 

“Ooooooh !” 

Connections were quickly made in the boy’s head, and he understood why they were following her. After all, this was Gotham. And if THE Bruce Wayne had ONE known lover...Well, it was easy to know it’d attract some nasty business. 

Dick was about to make a smug remark of which he had a talent for, when it happened. He pointed at you, fear in his eyes, and Bruce focused your way again. 

“Stay here.” 

“What why ?! I wanna help her too !” 

“Because she’s too smart not to put two and two if she sees you with me. She knows us in our day lives. She’ll recognize us for sure, if we’re together.”

“Oh...”

“Just stay still, ok ?” 

“Ok.” 

Without a second thought, Bruce jumped down in the street down below, under Dick’s worried eyes. If anything happened to you, he knew his dad would never be the same again. 

And he knew he couldn’t bear to lose yet another person he cared about. Even loved. Yes. Yes Dick loved you, as if you really were part of his family...

The months of “faking” family outings made it so. Your worst fear happened. Dick was getting attached, hardcore. And he really hoped you and Bruce would figure out you were actually in love with each others before the end of your “contract”, and before his sometimes very dense dad would decide to let you go...

For now though, he was anxiously looking at Bruce making his way to you, after he spotted a suspicious group of men genuinely stalking you. 

************

“Hey pretty girl, can we talk ?” 

You stop in your track, turning around, cursing yourself for not having the instinct to just take off running. Oh. But you can see at least one of them has a gun. You can’t run faster than a bullet... 

“Ah it is you, isn’t it ?” 

You don’t answer, knowing what they mean. Bruce sort of warned you against this. But you didn't take his warnings seriously, and here you were, going home at night, something he definitely told you not to do. 

You just couldn’t sleep that night, and needed a walk...And here you were. 

“You’re gonna come nicely with us, right ?” 

“I dont’ think so.” 

Uh ? You’re pretty sure that weird robotic voice wasn’t yours. Even if that’s exactly what you wanted to say. And that’s...oh wow. 

That’s when you see him. Batman. 

Immediately, the atmosphere grow even tenser. And you can see the thugs who wanted to take you with them fearfully looking at him. 

“This has nothing to do with you Batman, leave us alone, we didn’t do anything wrong !” 

“It has everything to do with me. Leave.” 

“We have to-You don’t understand. We have to take her to-” 

“Nowhere. Leave.” 

Even if he was protecting you, you had to admit that, that dude was frightening. He had his back to you, and even then, he looked so intimidating and tall and broad...

Bruce was tall and broad too. But he was soft and sweet, not scary at all.

“OH MY GOD LOOK OUT !!” 

One of the thug had a gun pointed at Batman. Right at his head. He didn’t have the time to enforce his helmet yet, and if he shot around his mouth, he was done for...

A rock coming out of nowhere hit the thug right in the face. 

Coming out of nowhere ? To you, maybe. But Bruce knew that this was little Dickie’s doing. “Robin always has Batman’s back”, he said often...

For the time being, the one taking his gun out being knocked out triggered a “fight or flight” reaction in the others, and as two took off running (and were mysteriously hit by rocks too, knocking them out), three decided to attack Batman. 

Bad move. 

Very bad move. 

In a matter of second, it was over. 

He turns to you, and it’s hard to discern any emotions with his lighted eyes and mask. He asks : 

“Are you alright, (Y/N) ?” 

“How-How do you know my name ?”

“Well, you’re Bruce Wayne’s girlfriend, right ?” 

There was no hesitation in Bruce’s voice as, as soon as he pronounced your name, he knew he messed up...but he trained himself to think quickly. And this “fake” relationship was a perfect excuse, of course. Everyone in Gotham knew about you two, by now. 

“Oh, right, ok.” 

You seemed a bit disappointed, and Bruce couldn’t quite understand why...

It only hits him later, as he was going to bed, why you looked like that. And it made hi heart beat widely. Because he was pretty sure that it was because you sort of hoped Bruce talked to “Batman about you...Oh...Oh this was getting dangerous. 

But of course, Bruce had a reputation to be the one funding Batman’s gadget (a really good cover for the fact he was actually Batman). So they’d know each others...

But right there and then, as he just saved you, you felt so stupid, hoping that Bruce would’ve talked to you to Batman. Why would he ? How the hell would your name even show up in a conversation between Bruce Wayne and Batman (but oh, if you knew you occupied his thoughts many times, and who he really was, maybe you’d feel less bad ? It was, in a way, Bruce talking about you to Batman, right ?). 

You smiled weakly and shyly at this impressive being in front of you, and thanked him one more time. He nods, smiling too (oh ?), and bid you farewell. 

Ah. But Bruce didn’t notice your eyes go wide, as he took off with his grappling hook, and you caught the side of his face in a certain light...

Fake ?

"You know, he smiles more when you’re around.” 

Dick tells you once, you look at him curiously, as he continues : 

“And before you say it’s “all pretend”, let me tell you there’s a difference between this smile and the fake one. Look, that’s how he pretend.” 

On that note, he looked at you and smiled widely, exaggeratedly, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. And it was so like how Bruce portrayed himself in public, that it made you chuckle. 

It also scared you a little. 

Not because there was a possibility Bruce did smile more around you, but because as that little boy was being silly, and now imitating his adopted father further and oh so perfectly...You felt a surge of love for him. 

And that wasn’t good. 

Because the day, which was coming soon now, you’d have to “dump” Bruce Wayne, you wouldn’t be able to see that little one again...why would you ? 

It’d be too weird, right ? Someone like you, once “broken up”, would have no reasons or ways to ever interact with billionaire Bruce Wayne or his son ever again. 

That little boy was the sweetest child you ever met. He suffered a great loss so early in his life, and there he was, making you laugh and being nice by saying you made his dad genuinely smile. 

It hurt, to know that one day, you wouldn’t see him again. That he’d grow up, and you wouldn’t know what he became. 

You were sure he was destined to become a great man, and you wished you could see it...No. No this was bad. This was so bad. 

“I mean it you know.” 

His little voice brings your attention back to him. 

“I think you make him happy. With you, it feels he can be himself. He laughs more, really laughs. And it’s often that he tells me “oh this makes me think of (Y/N)” and calls you. He doesn’t need to call you for the fake relationship thing, right ? Yet he does. That means something. I think he likes you.” 

You shake your head, smiling at this little boy’s wild imagination. No way. No way was THE Bruce Wayne falling for you in any way. Were you guys becoming real friends ? Sure. But it definitely stopped there. Right ?

Oh but if only you knew Dick had a knack to see this kind of things, and to guess people’s real feelings. If only you knew, that yes, Bruce was starting to fall for you...It would make the next episode way less painful for you. 

“Catch me dead before you catch me catching feelings” - You to yourself, a few days before starting a fake relationship with THE Bruce Wayne. 

“Fuck you” - You to yourself, almost six months in faking a relationship with Bruce Wayne. 

This was...bad. 

Soon enough, you and Bruce will break this entire deal off, you will “dump” him, and you’d go on your separate ways. And...

This was bad. 

Why ? WHY COULDN’T YOU JUST HANG OUT WITH THIS AMAZING CHARMING MAN AND THAT’S IT ? Why ? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO GET OUT THERE AND CATCH....

Catch...

Catch those body shivering “feelings”. 

Not just for Bruce though. But for the little buddy too. 

You felt yourself fall for Bruce slowly, and as if it was completely out of your control. But you also felt like if Dick wasn't in your life anymore...You wouldn’t feel whole again. Like he was sort of your son, too, by then. 

This was so bad. How did you get yourself in this mess ? What was that FIRST rule you gave yourself when all this started ? 

Right, “Catch me dead before I catch feelings”. Damn it. 

Thanks GOD the “marrying season” was finally coming to an end. Both you and Bruce settled you’d wait a few weeks after it to make your break-up official, so nobody would be tempted to cancel any wedding plans to try and force their daughter onto him.  

And it couldn’t happen soon enough. 

Being around him now, faking being in love, was torture to you. 

Kissing him knowing he felt nothing. Holding his hand in public while you knew in your heart he was just putting a show still. And hanging out with him feeling that you had absolutely no chance of this ever evolving...

It hurt.

It hurt so bad. 

And you were slowly hoping you never agreed to being his fake girlfriend. Being a living cliche, the money and the fame were REALLY not worth the heartache. 

So not worth it...

The end...?

"Well mister Wayne, it has truly been a pleasure to be your "girlfriend" haha. Seriously, I had a lot of fun, and a little revenge on life. You know, I saw Eric and Monica not long ago. They tried to become my friends again, knowing I was with you. It was great, to ignore them like they ignored them. You’re right, they’re really not worth it. And honestly I still don’t think we’re even after they hurt me like they did but...In the end, they looked so outraged. Win-win, really. Thank you very much."

"Thank YOU, for playing along and doing more than you bargained for. You really saved me a lot of hassle and…I had fun, too."

Your taxi was pulling in front of the Manor, and honked as he parked. Clearly, not a very patient driver.

"Well, see you around, Bruce ! If you're not too busy, you know…I kinda consider you a friend by now ?"

"Me, too."

Bruce lied. A "friend" ? No, it couldn't cover and explain all his feelings for you. A "friend". How ridiculous.

As you walked away, giving him a last smile, Bruce felt a pang in his chest.

A painful and yet happy one. A longing one. One that told him that "friend" wasn't what he wanted to be…Not anymore…

But was there really a future for you and him ? Probably not. His nightly activities would get in the way. You deserve more than the life he could give you. Being his "fake" girlfriend, you only took part in his public matters. Part in a fake world full of nice things, that was far from his actual life.

"Friend", he wished he could be more to you than this.

But he knew.

He knew that for your own good, he had to stay away. And oh, oh how he wished he could be more than just your "friend" or "fake" boyfriend. 

Yet he watched as you walked away. Without doing anything. 

He watched you leave, and felt the hole in his heart expand a little more. But didn’t try to catch you, or stop you from leaving. 

And your taxi was already far, now. On its way to Gotham. 

"So you gonna run after her oooor…??"

Dick's little voice takes him out of his reveries.

“Mmm ?” 

“(Y/N). Are you gonna run after her, or stand there looking like a sad puppy for the rest of your life ?” 

“I do not look like a sad puppy.” 

“Yes you do, and you know it. Come on dad, why are you doing this ?” 

This was the first time Dick called him dad. Which didn’t go unnoticed to Bruce. It meant...It meant something was definitely happening. He felt it in his heart. Something that was dangerous. Oh so dangerous. 

Hope. Like the “old Bruce” had. Hope. Full of it. Before his parents were murdered in front of him, for no reasons. Meaningless. 

Hope. 

To have a family again. Ah. But...Being with you was impossible. And Dick would be enough. He would. He was already enough... 

“How long are ya gonna torture yourself exactly ?” 

That boy was too smart for his own good. Bruce said : 

“I’m not. I just...I can’t be with her.” 

“I cAn’T bE wITh hEr !! ...Why ?!” 

“You saw what happened, when it was made official we were together. She almost died.” 

“And you saved her. Your point being ?” 

“Dick...”

“Don’t -he takes a mock Bruce voice- “Dick” me mister ! You’re afraid to be happy, and I won’t have it. You gave me another chance to have a family. A dad. And I’m not about to let my dad punish himself for feeling good. You told me yourself my parents would like for me to be happy. Well yours would too, you big idiot ! So now, you listen to me.” 

Dick, meaning business, jumps on the stairs’ bannister to sort of be on eye level with Bruce, and says, pointing his finger at him : 

“You take one of those fancy useless sport car, and you run after her. Capish ?” 

There’s a moment of silence. During which Bruce is unsure of what to do. And then...Then he smiles at his son. 

His son. 

“Capish”, he simply says, and he rushes towards the garage’s entrance, under Dick’s happy look. 

Success. 

Bruce’s car was leaving the estate, when Alfred joined Dick at the front door. 

“You did it, Master Richard.” 

“I hope I did !” 

“Oh you did. You did. Thank you. Thank you for taking care of my son...”

Dick turned to Alfred, who couldn’t keep a straight face this time. Small tears gathered in the old man’s eyes, and sweet little Dick did not hesitate one second before jumping into his arms and giving him one of his famous “Grayson special” hug. 

It’s real. 

Back to square one. 

You. A bad day. Looking like a mess (this time not because of the rain, but because you cried a lot). Your gap year almost over and still not knowing who you were. With no coffee, but at least, you had a tub of ice cream. 

You already missed Bruce. And Dick. And Alfred. 

You couldn’t believe those six months of “faking” would end up meaning so much to you, and feel so devastating as they ended. 

You wish you had never met Bruce. And that you’d been ridiculed by Eric and Monica, that your life would still be pathetic...Pathetic maybe, but at least, your heart wasn’t completely shattered. 

You don’t hear the hurried knocks on your door, at first. Entranced by your own sadness. It’s only when they become loud and insistant you react. 

You really hope it’s not a journalist. They sort of tried to talk to you so many times, since you “dumped” Bruce...You knew he made sure that they’d stay away, but some were particularly persistent. 

Including that awful woman from the charity, who was asking Dick those horrible questions. “Vicky Vale”, was her name, apparently. What a witch. 

Clearly, the knocking wasn’t gonna go away, so you stood up, settled your tub of ice cream on your coffee table, and went to the door, ready to fight if need be. 

But there was no need for fights. 

At least, not in the literal sense of the term. 

“Bruce ?” 

He seems out of breath. Incredible, given how in shape he was. He doesn’t really leave you any time to say anything else, as he blurts out :

“I was wrong.”

He blurts out out of nowhere, and you’re even more confused. Before you could ask what was all this about, he adds : 

“I was wrong. When I said you were the right person because you were “normal”. You’re everything, BUT “just a regular person”. You’re the most fantastic woman I’ve ever met. You decided to help a total stranger just because. I know I helped you before, but it doesn’t compare to what you did for me. Especially on a matter that seems so silly to me now. You put yourself in a very awkward position for someone you didn’t even know. In front of the public, for a guy like me. You knew I was a “playboy”, and that I could very well use you. Yet you still put up with it. You accepted my son, even as you didn’t have to. Even as, just like me, you are so young. You were nice to Dick, even if all you needed to do was pretend. You’re...You’re...You’re just something else entirely. It feels like you know me, the real me. Like you can read my very soul. Like you’re the only one for me. I’ve known for a long time. I ignored it because I was afraid of what that meant but...but a certain little one made me realize this was time. It’s time to move on. It’s time to allow myself to be happy. And so, here I am.”

Was this...it ? The point of your gap year ? To discover that finding yourself...Meant finding your soulmate ? 

It sounded silly. While at the same time, not. Because you felt it. You felt it deep within you. From the moment Bruce handed you that twenty dollars bill, fate was in motion. 

You meeting Eric and Monica wasn’t bad luck. It was the opposite. It was the Universe’s push towards your real Destiny. 

Towards Bruce. 

“You’re not saying anything. Is this bad ? Or does it mean I blew your mind away ? I’m clearly hoping for the latter...”

Over the months, you discovered how huge of a dork Bruce Wayne could be. Even as if there was often a darkness right behind his smiles. Deep within his eyes. You discovered he wasn’t always this cocky arrogant man he portrayed himself to be while in public. How he was actually pretty funny and oh so empathetic. How...How so many things, the list seemed endless in your mind. 

And it only added to everything, that he looked so unsure. And so you smile. You just smile at him. And everything you feel is in that smile. 

You don’t even realize you’re holding each others now, and that you’re kissing...

It’s not pretend this time. 

A real first kiss. 

Though maybe all your kisses until now weren’t as fake as you pretended them to be. 

In any case, this, right now, is a real kiss alright. 

A real one. 

Full of all the pent up emotions. Free of all the fear and hurt you both felt as you realized you were in love with the other one, yet you thought things were all “fake”. 

Because it wasn't fake. It wasn’t. 

“I love you.” 

You don’t know who said it first. You, or him. You felt so in sync, that it didn’t matter. What is sure, is that you both said it. Before you closed the door to your apartment, leading him in. 

Before you spend the night in each other’s arms.

Bruce not even thinking about going out as Batman..

For the first time in years, he decided to fully embrace being happy. 

“You always told me my parents would wish for me to be happy, well yours too !” Dick said. And oh, he was so right.

By the way, I’m Batman. Surprise. 

“It’s not like I didn’t know, you know.” 

“Huh ?” 

Oh. Oh the delight to see that surprised expression on Bruce’s face. It was quite a rare one, really. And as he finally gathered the courage to tell you who he really was, risking losing you in the process but wanting to show you his full self...

It was particularly delightful. 

“Busted you on that night you saved me. As if I wasn’t going to recognized that jawline.” 

“Wait, really ? I really thought you bought my lies !” 

“Well now, you know not to underestimate me.” 

“I...Do.”

A natural smile reaches his face, and he approaches you, pulling you to him, and laying a soft kiss on your lips. Feeling fully accepted and loved, like never before. And he could see you-

“Oh NO EWWWWWW !!!” 

You pull away from Bruce’s kiss (noticing his slow grumble, displeased to lose  your warmth), and look at little Dickie (your son too, now !), staring at you two, looking disgusted. 

“Get a ROOOOM !!” 

This makes you laugh. A lot. And oh. Oh how would you ever guess, in that moment, that one day, this “get a room !!” said in such a disgusted tone would be the trademark of your children (SIX OF THEM) whenever they’d see you and Bruce display any sort of affection to one another ? 

You couldn’t guess, of course. But even in that moment, as you softly laughed, in Bruce’s arms, while looking at your son now making exaggerated noises and acting silly, you knew this...

This was what you’ve been looking for during this gap year. 

This was who you were. 

Right there. 

At the heart of a loving family, even if right now, it was just the three of you (four, let’s not forget Alfred !). 

The end. 

_________________________________________________

And here we are. I hope you liked it ? I feel particularly nervous about this one haha. Don’t hesitate to leave a little comment and reblog :),  It’s always greatly appreciated, and encouraging :D. Thanks in advance, and see you soon with a new story ! 

#Bruce Wayne x reader #Batman x Reader #Batmom #Batfam x Reader #Batfam #Batfamily x Reader #Bruce Wayne imagine #Bruce Wayne #Batman #DC reader insert #Richard Grayson x Reader #Richard Grayson imagine #Batman imagine #Batman reader insert #Robin x reader #AU compare to main Batmom #Richard Grayson #fem!reader

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

The shifting narrative of God’s interventism and how it reflects on the narrative on John

This post will ignore the issue authorial intent entirely because I can, but it’s also about authorial intent in a way, but I also don’t like to talk about things as happening “accidentally” because a) a serialized story like Supernatural, especially one that got renewed for much longer than anyone could possibly expect or hope in their wildest ambitions, structurally relies on serendipity, because that’s how stories work when they’re work in progress, b) a television show is an extremely multi-authored text and the chance that something happens out of the intent of any of the multiple layers of creators is kind of... statistically negligible. So, yeah, that’s my stance on the topic. Anyway.

The shifting narrative about God is simultaneously something that hangs on fortunate storytelling clicks on an essentially programmed narrative. At first, we don’t know where the fuck God is. Cas starts looking for him with little success. Raphael says he’s dead, Cas doesn’t believe it. Dean relates to his struggle because he knows the feeling of not knowing where the fuck your father is and going looking for him with little success, not knowing if he’s even alive. Then the theory that gets assumed as the truth is that God has left. He fucked off who knows where, who knows why, leaving his creation to struggle alone. Also essentially how Dean had felt after John had died; in that case there was guilt for his demon deal and everything, but the most cruel weight on Dean’s shoulder was that John left him alone to struggle with his devastatingly horrific instructions he doesn’t understand. The angels are also left with horrific instructions they don’t understand. No wonder Cas does his own ‘demon deal’ in season 6, as he desperately tries to do what he assumes his father wants from him, but he doesn’t actually know what that is.

“God has left” is maddening, and everyone is angry about it, but it has its own dignity. God has left us without clear instructions, we are confused and in pain and evil runs amock but at least, we suppose, the evil of it is our own doing. We are alone and we do our best, our best is simply not enough. We wish he gave us guidance, but he won’t. He wants us to figure it out ourselves, possibly. We don’t actually know what he wants. But maybe that’s the point. It’s possible he doesn’t even know what’s happening, he just has left the building entirely.

But then Chuck reveals himself. We find out that he never actually left. He was there. “I like front row seats. You know, I figured I’d hide out in plain sight”. He simply chooses not to intervene. He chooses not to answer. He chooses to be hands-off. He presents himself as a laissez-faire parent, because, he says, it’s better for his children to have the responsibility they need to grow up. He’s absent, but in a different way than we thought! It’s not that he doesn’t know what’s happening or isn’t interested in knowing what’s happening. He’s here, he knows what’s happening, he just stays there and watches as you stumble and struggle and scream. It’s worse, and it pains Dean so much he isn’t even afraid to yell at God. You know we’re suffering and you just don’t give us any support, any comfort.

You’re frustrated. I get it. Believe me, I was hands-on, real hands-on, for, wow, ages. I was so sure if I kept stepping in, teaching, punishing, that these beautiful creatures that I created... would grow up. But it only stayed the same. And I saw that I needed to step away and let my baby find its way. Being overinvolved is no longer parenting. It’s enabling.

But it didn’t get better.

Well, I’ve been mulling it over. And from where I sit, I think it has.

Well, from where I sit, it feels like you left us and you’re trying to justify it.

I know you had a complicated upbringing, Dean, but don’t confuse me with your dad.

At that point of the show, the writing team almost certainly didn’t have the s14-15 twist in mind. So this was probably intended to be Chuck’s truth. Later it gets twisted (retconned?) into a lie, but about that later.

Here, Chuck is really good at manipulating the conversation. Dean has a perfectly valid point, because there IS a middle ground between being overinvolved and not being involved at all. There is a middle ground between enabling your children and abandoning them completely. But Chuck hits Dean where it hurts, plays the emotional card, basically tells him that he’s too emotional to understand, too emotional to think rationally about it, because he mixes his feelings about his father to the issue and thus cannot see it clearly. He basically tells him he’s too close to it to get it. You don’t understand parenting, Dean, because you’re too blinded by your emotions about your own little life and cannot see the big picture.

It doesn’t really matter here if he’s telling the truth or lying, it already says a lot about Chuck that he’s emotionally manipulating Dean, silencing him by hitting the painful spot.

But the thing is, 11.20 immediately presents Chuck as a liar. He makes Metatron read his autobiography and the very first line is a lie (“In the beginning, there was me. Boom – detail. And what a grabber. I mean, I’m hooked, and I was there.” “I’m hooked too, and yet... details. You weren’t alone in the beginning. Your sister was with you.”) and the stuff he talks about his experience as Chuck is not exactly truthful about anything (“That, you know, makes you seem like a really grounded, likable person.” “Yeah, what’s wrong with that?” “You are neither grounded nor a person!”). Metatron calls him out (“Okay. There are two types of memoir. One is honest... the other, not so much. Truth and fairy tale. Now, do you want to write Life by Keith Richards? Or do you want to write Wouldn’t It Be Nice by Brian Wilson?”). Chuck SAYS he chooses truth and gives Metatron a different manuscript, supposedly containing the truth, to which Metatron reacts positively. Metatron believes it, and we believe it with him.

Oh! Oh, this! This is what I was talking about. Chapter Ten “Why I Never Answer Prayers, and You Should Be Glad I Don’t”, and Chapter Eleven “The Truth About Divine Intervention and Why I Avoid It At All Costs”.

Nature? Divine. Human nature – toxic.

They do like blowing stuff up.

Yeah. And the worst part – they do it in my name. And then they come crying to me, asking me to forgive, to fix things. Never taking any responsibility.

What about your responsibility?

I took responsibility... by leaving. At a certain point, training wheels got to come off. No one likes a helicopter parent.

This is sort of what he later says to Dean, except that to Dean he talks about “beautiful creatures” “my baby”, talks about helping, none of the harsh tone he’s using here. When Metatron accuses him of hiding from Amara, he retorts “I am not hiding. I am just done watching my experiments’ failures”. What a different language, uh? Then Metatron asks him why he abandoned them, and Chuck answers “Because you disappointed me. You all disappointed me”. Then, he admits he lied about “learning” to play the guitar and so on, because he just gave himself the ability, and then appears to Dean and Sam, after Metatron’s passionate speech about humanity.

So, no matter the authorial intent at the time - the truthiness of Chuck’s words was already ambiguous. He kept lying and being called out, or silencing the conversation with some good ol’ gaslighting.

The season 14 finale introduces the big twist: it was, indeed, all a lie. The whole of it. Chuck didn’t abandon shit. It was all him, minutely controlling the narrative of the universe, putting the characters through all the pain and struggles for his own amusement.

The “absent father” narrative was a lie.

What does this tell us about John? Nothing, according to the authorial intent that shines through Dabb’s Lebanon. But we don’t give a crap about Dabb’s authorial intent about John! He’s just one dude and plenty of other authors have painted a different picture. So I’m going to read the narrative the way I want, because I can, and the narrative allows me to. It’s all there.

I’m suggesting that the fact that Chuck lied when he talked about being a hands-off/absentee father parallels how Dean and Sam prefer to think of their father as an “absent father” when that’s not exactly a reflection of the truth.

You left us. Alone. ‘Cause Dad was just a shell. [...] And I-I had to be more than just a brother. I had to be a father and I had to be a mother, to keep him safe.

Setting aside how “I had to be a father and I had to be a mother” sort of retcons and cleans up the Winchester family picture painted by ealier seasons, the fact that John didn’t really count as a functional father figure and Dean and Sam were essentually alone is not incorrect or anything. It is true that John would leave them to their own devices a lot, thus the long stays in motels, the hunger, the food-stealing, and all. But John wasn’t always absent, at all. He trained them as soldiers, he disciplined them, he was around enough for them to be intimately familiar with what happened when he drank. He drove them around.

It’s almost like it’s preferable to Dean and Sam to spin their own “absent father” narrative, putting the accent on the time they spent alone, painting their childhood as a time they had to grow up on their own, rather than acknowledge they grew up under the thumb of a controlling, looming figure they would regularly live in fear of, even when he was not physically present.

The “absent father” narrative is what Dean and Sam need to use to avoid confronting the reality of the father figure whose moods and whims they had to dance around. “I know things got dicey... you know, with Dad... the way he was. And I just... I didn’t always look out for you the way that I should have. I mean, I had my own stuff, you know. In order to keep the peace, probably looked like I took his side quite a bit.”

John shaped their lives. He shaped their identities. Even in the episodes where he abandons Dean or both children somewhere, he’s portrayed as the figure who drives the car. He symbolically drives the car, you know? John shaped Dean and Sam’s relationship with each other, both on a surface level (the conflicts) and on a deeper level (the parental dynamic).

Heck. The entire first season of the show plays on John’s disappearance as the “elephant in the room”. John is there by not being there, you know? And after he dies, his death - his absence - is again the elephant in the room for Dean, the weight on his psyche that he shatters under.

It is not wrong that Dean and Sam had to spend long periods of time without John. But John structured their lives in quite minute detail. Where they needed to be, what they needed to do, what they must not do, everything had to follow John’s instructions. A drill sergeant, the narrative called him, ordering how his sons needed to live their lives. That’s no absence, except on a level where Chuck not showing himself and pretending he’s not there can be considered absent. That’s a presence, not necessarily always physical, but semiotical and psychological.

John is an absent father as much as Chuck is a hands-off god. He even writes himself into the story around the time Cas has the “season 1” phase (let’s go look for dad/let’s go look for god), which is when John actually was alive and appeared. Then he was no longer physically there, but he was still shaping his characters’ lives, just like he’d always done.

The “absent father” narrative on John is that - a narrative. Spun by the characters themselves because it’s easier and actually kinder on John. Or, better, it allows them not to be crushed by the psychological implications of having to accept that their father was such a looming, minutely formative figure in their lives. They know, but they can wave the “absent father” idea around to avoid thinking about it.

“I had to be a father and I had to be a mother” is something easier to tell yourself. I was the one who did it all. But he wasn’t, and that’s the problem. The fact that John was their father - Dean’s and Sam’s - is the problem. But ironically, blaming himself for every failure is a better option for Dean than fully acknowledging John’s abuse. As long as he blames himself, he has control over it. The moment he acknowledges the extent of John’s influence, he loses control over the entire narrative of his own identity and the family identity, the family dynamics. That’s scarier, just like realizing that God manipulated everything is much scarier than the alternative. “God abandoned us” was indeed a better option, and “John left us alone” was a better option. But neither was true, and the characters faced the implications of the cosmic level, but never got to face the implication of the familial level, because the narrative always danced around it and then Dabb’s apologist version “won”.

But what’s been put in the show is still there. The narrative of John’s abuse is still there. Nothing can take it out of the story.

#my spn thoughts #spn meta #dean and john #dean and sam and john #dean and chuck #dean and god #spn 11x20 #spn 11x21 #spn 14x20 #spn 12x22 #et alii #spn #long post

[myimaginesandrp]

Stuck with You (Ksj)

Summary: When the run-down elevator in your building breaks down, you find yourself trapped inside with your cute neighbor Seokjin.

Notes: 2k, One Shot, Neighbor!Ksj, N2L, Ksj x reader, fluff, mild angst

Warnings: Mild panic attack caused by claustrophobia [Any further warnings will be added upon request]

A/N: Please be nice this is the first time I write for BTS 🙈 {Also this was 0% Edited. oops}

 Cold sweat makes its way down your back as the pads of your fingers nervously press down on the emergency button of the elevator for just about  the fourth time in the last fifteen minutes. They’re starting to hurt. Maybe not as much as your feet in the stupid shoes you decided to wear today, but they were definitely not this red when you first entered the building. Nevermind that, it’s starting to get ridiculously hot and you’re not entirely sure if the sweat is really from how stuffy it's getting in here, or if your fried nerves are starting to get a hold of you. 

You’d told the owner several times that the elevator needed to be fixed, and now your worst nightmare had come true before your very eyes. Not even two seconds in and the sound of screeching and whining metal rang in your ears before the elevator stopped completely, only to leave  you in darkness and a pounding heart that was very close to giving out on you. You’d never admit that you were claustrophobic, but with each second that passed, the air entering your lungs seemed to have more and more difficulty finding its way out. 

Had you been by yourself, you’d have completely lost it by now, but as luck would have it, the quiet - and much more controlled -  breaths beside you told you that you very much weren’t. In your panic you’d nearly forgotten you weren’t alone in the metal death trap you found yourself in. Thinking back to it now, you’d managed to avoid everyone in the lobby until his hand broke through the gap of the elevator just as the doors were closing.

Seokjin, your neighbor who moved in next door almost a year ago, stood about a foot away from you, nowhere near as worried about your current predicament as he probably should've been. In fact if it weren’t for the thin sheen of sweat gracing his forehead, you’d think he was just as content here as if he were at home. 

In the short amount of time you’d known him it was more than clear he was a sweet and kind person, not to mention his ridiculous sense of humor and his even more ridiculous good looks. It was unfair really, that someone who looked so perfect was just as beautiful on the inside. His presence now had kept you somewhat sane, for the most part. His kind smile now met your panicked eyes, offering you silent comfort in hopes that it would stop you from banging on the steel again. He approached you slowly, stepping over the grocery bags he’d been carrying when he ran inside. In your pacing back and forth you’re sure that you’d smushed an orange or two into the floor, but you could worry about that later.

 His hand finds your shoulder and your breathing suddenly takes a turn for the worse. Not that you didn’t want his touch of course, you’d been crushing on him since the moment you met him walking up the steps of your apartment one cloudy afternoon. You’d craved to be this close to him for a while but given the current circumstances, this was far from any daydream you’d ever ran through your head before.  

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat something?” He began, pulling your attention away from your thoughts. “I have those chocolate bars you like.” He nods towards his bags and you arch your brow at him in confusion. All the blood drains from his face at the confession and he tries his best to backtrack without much success. “I mean- I just. I’ve seen you always grab some at the vending machine near the laundry room. Not that I always watch you. No wait-” A twitch of your lips gets him even more worked up. You watch in awe as his ears turn bright red and his words come out of him louder and faster. If you weren't filled with utter terror at the moment, you'd find it the most adorable thing in the world to see him this flustered. “-I mean  N-Not that I was staring! Why would I be staring at you! Sometimes I just happen to pass by when you’re there. Anyone could be there, it’s a public place you know? I just mean that-  I…” You shake your head at him to stop his rambling.

“It’s fine Jin” you muster with as much calmness as you could. He was a good distraction, but you were still stuck in a metal cage, dangling who knows how far above the ground. You were definitely gonna start taking the stairs from now on, this was getting to be too much for you. “I just lost my appetite really… I’ll just order something. If we ever get out- ” your voice breaks and before he can stop himself, his arms envelop you in a soft embrace. 

“Hey no don’t cry. It’s gonna be okay ______” he coos as you try and fail to control the stream of tears that leave you. You didn’t even know you were crying until he spoke, and now every time you tried to rein them in, more made their way out. “I’m here, you’re not alone.”

Jin wasn’t sure what came over him when he caught a glimpse of you entering the elevator, but he’d never been happier with his decision to run after you. Now as he felt you tremble in his arms, all he wanted was to make the fear go away. To make sure every tear was gone from your soft face and that nothing ever made you feel like this again.

He’s not really sure when he started to like you, but the moment he realized, it hit him like a truck. Maybe it was your kindness towards your elderly neighbor across the hall, or the way he could hear you belting out to your favorite music as you vacuumed your apartment. Or maybe it was because you were just so damn beautiful. With your sparkling eyes and the bright smile you gave him every time he was lucky enough to cross paths with you. He never stood a chance.

He really shouldn’t be feeling like this, like he wanted to keep holding you in his arms every day, to protect you. It made no sense after all, he was nothing but a stranger to you. But with every moment that passed, and every second that you didn’t push him away, something inside him fed hope that perhaps his feelings weren’t as one sided as he’d thought. 

“Listen,” he began again hoping to at least distract you. “You heard the maintenance guy not too long ago. The fire department has been called, we’ll be out of here in no time ok?” His voice was calm and soothing, and if it weren't for the fact that his touch sent a fire through your body, you're sure it would've been a cool balm to your nerves. You wipe your face with your sleeves and look up at him.

“I know, I- I just can’t breathe, I hate these things and it’s been too long now… I just-” You cut yourself off at the last minute to stop yourself from breaking down in front of him again.

“I understand ______. It’s perfectly reasonable for you to feel like this okay?” You nod and he reaches a hand to your face to wipe the remnants of a tear from your cheek. 

“You know -” he starts again, “ - one time I went fishing with a friend and our boat got stuck a few miles in. Man the fear I felt… I thought we’d be gone by then, but the human body is very resilient….” You listen as he rambles on about his friend and how he’s never taking him fishing again because not only were they  stuck in the middle of the sea, but they didn’t manage to catch a single fish. “Could you imagine my handsome face sunburnt? A horrible tragedy if there's ever been one..”

You latch on to his very word for who knows how long, until he’s got you giggling and the fear inside you is all but forgotten. The minutes pass and you don’t even realize that you’re still holding on to him until he reluctantly pulls away to offer you water, not fully letting go of your hand in the process. You both make it to the floor eventually, sitting side by side. He shares stories of his friends and you listen intently, now and again contributing with a comment and he swears your voice is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

It’s almost a whole hour after the elevator stopped that you hear banging from the other side of the doors. Tears spring in your eyes again as you realize your imprisonment is almost over. Jin clears his throat and with a heavy heart you release his hand, knowing your time together is almost at its end too. He gathers his things from the floor and you help him. You’re not sure why you suddenly get so bold, but you let your fingers linger on his a little longer than necessary when you hand him back one of the chocolate bars you liked.

“Here” he says, handing it back to you. “I think you need it a little more than me right now” You chuckle and graciously accept it.

“Thank you Jin. I’d have gone completely mad without your help” He offers you a sweet content smile and your heart leaps, knowing it’s for you.

“Any time_____. Though let’s hope they actually fix this damn thing for once.”

The sounds of the doors being pushed open grow louder and the relief you feel when you start hearing voices outside is indescribable. As soon as you are able to, you pull away from Jin and drag your way out into the bright sunlight you never thought you’d see again. The firefighters help Jin pull you up and out of the elevator, slowly pulling you to the side to tend to your hand.

 There’s a small crowd standing by the lobby, watching and shaking their heads as they watch the firemen work. A few of them have less than kind looks for the owner as he stumbles his way in, with disheveled clothes and a distraught look in his eye. You’re offered an oxygen mask and you watch as a few moments later Seokjin is also pulled out to his freedom. He finds you almost immediately and moves his way over to you with nothing but relief in his eyes. 

“You okay?” he says as he pulls an oxygen mask to his face.

“Yeah, much better now.” 

“I’m glad. You were very brave, you know?” You scoff and he shakes his head. “Now don’t give me that, I'm serious ______. If we’d been stuck in a room full of insects you'd have had to give me cpr.” 

“Well let's hope the owner never decides to start a butterfly sanctuary on the roof”

“I would literally move cities” He deadpans and you start to laugh again. 

The rest of the afternoon passes by in a blur as the firemen ask you a bunch of health questions. The owner comes by to apologize to the both of you, begging  you not to press any charges and only leaving you both alone once you both agreed to. Jin’s hand finds its way to yours again, and this time neither one of you breaks the contact.  

After the sun has long left the sky, the lobby is mostly empty save for the maintenance folks who work on the elevator that you never want to spare another glance to. Jin makes to stand. 

“Come on _____ let me walk you up to your apartment. With the way the elevator went, I’m not taking any chances with the stairs” You actually let yourself laugh at that and take his outstretched hand to pull yourself up. “Are you hungry?” As if on queue your stomach decides to growl loudly. You throw your hand over your stomach and his face breaks into a huge grin.  

“I’m actually starving, now that you mention it'' you admit sheepishly. 

“Well I got some dinner waiting to be reheated at home and I wouldn’t mind sharing. What do you say?” He gives you a smile so dazzling, you think you’d melt back into the ground if it weren’t for his steady arm holding on to you. 

“I’d love that” 

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! 💜 [If you liked this please help me out by leaving some feedback on my ask box. It’s always appreciated!]

#seokjin x reader #jin x reader #seokjin fluff #seokjin fluf #jin fluff #bts imagines #jin fics #bts fics #seokjin fics #seokjin x you