#dual headliner

[vintagenews]

Source and details.

#vintage headline #good and evil #dual nature #duality #headline

[on-leatheredwings]

Co-Conspirator

Yandere! Bruce Wayne x Yandere! (Fem!) Reader 

> romantic > summary: Ever since you asked him to help with your… reconnaissance, he’s been nothing but a great help. And judgment-free. Batman is as paranoid and insane as you are, and that is why he is quite possibly your best friend. > word count: 1285  > [ a/n: just something short, something cute, something for the Girls. i think mutually yandere relationships are a fun dynamic not very explored!!! Still, its pretty mild yandereism here. Trying to warm up to writing bitches who are Actual Freaks . uhhh lmk what you think. hope i communicated the reader's backstory well. the fact she's only a little crazy is amazing, all things considered. i'd love to make a whole fic of this but alas, i am Not Very Good At Plot]

You are dating Bruce Wayne. You bite your lip at the thought, hoping it disguises your shit-eating grin. You have been told you look like a total cheeseball when you daydream. 

It’s a month-long relationship that’s still currently under the radar because you don’t have the luxury of a dual superhero-civilian persona. First, getting trapped in a pocket dimension for 10 years because something-something-Speedforce; next, being booted back into your home dimension and falling out the sky; then, wreaking havoc in Gotham City with your new, uncontrollable powers unmasked and in clear view of Gotham City choppers and news cameras… These things secretive identities do not make. No matter.

Hence why you tend to stay holed up in the Justice League’s Watchtower or your apartment, and rarely go out otherwise. But a month ago, you were bored. Neurotic. You decided to help your good buddy Batman. Fly to Gotham with your power and surprise him on patrol. And, well, you ended up saving Bruce Wayne (and hundreds of other socialites) after a three ton bowling ball careened into a gala at Wayne Tower, courtesy of the Riddler. Your telekinesis kept the whole building from collapsing. You guess that must’ve really turned Bruce Wayne on, because he was shortly afterwards chatting you up and won your phone number. 

On your first date with Gotham’s Most Eligible Bachelor, you blurt out, flustering, that you don’t want to overshadow his charity and all the good work he’s doing. Bruce Wayne dating anyone makes headlines – let alone a superhero. Yes, yes. You simply didn’t want to cramp Bruce Wayne’s philanthropic style. It wasn’t that you were utterly unprepared to have that level of media scrutiny on you and were insecure about dating a man completely out of your league. 

Bruce thanked you for your concern and then kissed you deeply, expertly, for your trouble.

You replay that night’s events in your head, and– goddamnit– cheeseball. You clear your throat and clear your mind.

“I think I’ll want a copy of his birth certificate from Gotham General.”

You glance at Batman, who is seated beside you, and see the corner of his lips quirk. 

“Because you’re going to pull up his birth chart.” Batman knows astrology is an enduring interest of yours. You pout, pulling up Gotham General’s files and sifting through the database. 

“... Maybe.” 

You pause from your search on one of the Justice League’s supercomputers, sneaking a sheepish glance at your co-conspirator. Ever since you asked him to help with your… reconnaissance, he’s been nothing but a great help. And judgment-free. Batman is as paranoid and insane as you are, and that is why he is quite possibly your best friend. 

You flush. “You know– I– Thanks, Bats. Really. I’m glad you aren’t acting all weird about this.”

Batman doesn’t say anything, but you know that he’s giving you his full attention. 

“Like, I’m not a freak or anything. I just have to make sure I know what I’m getting into.” You puff your cheeks. “Know he’s… you know. Good.” 

What a lie. You’re just scared and don’t want to get caught with your pants down. Despite being an actual living, breathing, metahuman and superhero… Bruce is the one with the power in this relationship. He’s… everything. Encapsulating. Towering. Anyone would want him. You think of the lingering looks very, very beautiful women give him. Everyone does want him. 

You feel a pang of violent loathing and nausea that is tided over when Batman speaks.

“... I know plenty about Bruce Wayne. He’s… good.”

Your brows rise. You’ve only known the man for a few months but even you know that’s a glowing compliment coming from Batman. His highest praise on most people is usually neutral at best. “Hmm… okay.” You turn back to your work, laughing. “Well. I also just think he’s kind of interesting to learn about. What other celebrity has this much lore? The prodigal son… Prince of Gotham… Collector of orphans… Gotham’s Most Eligible Bachelor...” 

You worry your lip, gnashing your teeth. Bachelor. That’s what everyone thinks he is, right? You blink and curiously turn to Batman, whose hands are flying across a keyboard, hard at work. You hope you’re not bothering him. W-well, he’d say if I were, right? you think.

“Is it weird if I put cameras in Wayne Manor?”

Batman stills and your throat dries. Damn.

“... Um… Too weird…?” 

After a tentative silence, Batman responds.

“... No. You’re just covering your bases.”

Your cheeks fill with color as being vindicated – a view you don’t know makes his heart race marginally quicker.

“Yeah!” You cough, composing yourself. “I mean, yeah. You can learn a lot about someone from what they get up to when they think they’re alone.” You can also make sure they’re not bringing anyone home, but you keep that part to yourself.

“I could plant them, if you need. I have plenty made for this kind of surveillance.” 

You’re smiling widely, wheeling your chair over to Batman’s side before you know it. 

“... God. Batman, you magnificent mind, you. This is why we’re buddies.” You lean over and poke his chest cheekily, right on the bat emblem. 

Bruce has to restrain himself from catching your hand on its retreat. Your poke burns a hole in his chest for minutes afterward, and he welcomes every second of it. He turns back to his computer screen, vainly attempting to not think about how much he wants to kiss you right now.

Perhaps Bruce should’ve simply asked you out as Batman. You spend much more time when he’s under the cowl than not. But frankly, you would’ve been too distracted during missions. Hell, he would’ve been too distracted. He already thinks of you all the time. 

Your investigation into Bruce Wayne has tripped several of his alarms, even before you told him of it. Anyone making inquiries with this level of depth draws his attention. Nothing you’re looking is anything he’s averse to you knowing, so he’s allowed you to investigate him freely and without redirection. But of course, you don’t know that. The effort you’re making is… cute. The fact you don’t know that Batman is Bruce is cute. You think you have the upper hand. And that’s… cute.

Bruce doesn’t think too deeply about your stalking, even though he probably should. It’s probably evidence of an unstable individual. He’s sure ten years alone with no stimuli in a pocket dimension does things to a person. But who was he to judge? He’s violated the privacy and boundaries of everyone who affects his life in any important way. Nor does he claim to be a shining example of ideal mental health. 

And at the end of the day, this situation is all under his control.

There is a small part of him that feels guilty for keeping his identity under wraps, but there’s a bigger part that’s amused. You don’t know that he’s had your birth certificate since the day after you met. You don’t know that there’s about twenty cameras working 24/7 in and out of your apartment. Or that he’s your new landlord. These are things he’ll tease you about once he confesses that he’s Batman. You’ve made him someone who likes to tease. 

Still, Bruce remains hesitant about telling you. How would you react? Would you feel betrayed? Hurt? Dread floods his bloodstream, an effect only the most depraved individuals in his rogues gallery tend to have on him. 

Would you leave him? Hate him?

His eyes skirt towards where you sit. You worry your lip, eyes glued to a plan of Wayne Manor, no doubt debating where you want him to place the cameras he’s offered. Tension leaves his shoulders, almost imperceptible. 

Luckily, the chances of that seem slim.

#yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #yandere reader #bruce wayne #yandere batman #batman x reader #i have got to make everyone crazier #mine

[zarla-s]

DUAL GHOST UPDATE COMING IN! Posting this early so you can pick them up before tomorrow, haha. Both Gaster and Temmie have an update! If you already have either of them, you can select "Update" from their right-click menu, hit Ctrl+U when they're the focus, or select "update" from either of their function menus in their left-click menu.

Temmie

EVIL TEM IS HERE!! She appears on April Fools and will do EVIL THINGS!! She should disappear when the day is over, if she doesn't plz let me know. @quonit helped a lot with this, haha.

Fixed her batting downwards pose.

Added back her random roaming dialogue so she'll go for walks more often.

Added dialogue for installing calendar skins, headlines, rss feeds, and general other things.

Gaster

Pastel Gaster can talk to EVIL Temmie on April Fools! He has a lot of new dialogue with her, hehe.

Cleaned up the coding in his surfaces.txt file so he should hopefully load faster.

Removed all his .pna files, so he should have a smaller file size. If you notice something looking weird let me know, I did a quick check but I could've missed something.

Added the undertale balloon so he should install it alongside him. I also updated the balloon to make a few minor changes! You can just get the balloon by itself to get those if you're not interested in Gaster.

Changed the poses for him having a panic attack on the negative route.

Added a small thing to make the brothers' fonts show up more reliably if they weren't before. Maybe.

Added responses for installing calendar skins, headlines, RSS feeds, and other general things.

Let me know if Gaster loads faster! I'm not sure if what I did will speed him up or not but hopefully it will.

[index] [patreon]

#undertale #handplates #gaster #temmie #ukagaka #ukagaster #underfell #fellplates #i love evil temmie #she's so EVIL! #everyone in the underground constantly bullying pastel gaster #he makes it so easy

[sleepydeprived]

A Chance for Redemption

—A mysterious high school student appears out of the blue, bearing the face of the late Martha Wayne and puzzling even Gotham’s greatest detectives.

[chapter 1]

| Platonic!Yandere!Batfam x Reader

| Inspired by the work of @e-nonsense “GHOST OF A LONG GONE WOMAN”

The Gotham City skyline stretched across the horizon, its towering structures standing as silent guardians in the night. Inside the dimly lit study of Wayne Manor, Bruce Wayne sat alone amidst shadows that mirrored the complexities of his own mind.

A sudden beep from the Batcomputer broke the stillness. Bruce glanced at the screen, and his piercing gaze narrowed at the news report flashing across the monitor. The headline sent a ripple through him.

"Wayne Heiress Emerges: Striking Resemblance to Late Martha Wayne. Who is she?"

His heartbeat quickened as images of the young girl filled the screen. The uncanny resemblance to his late mother, Martha, struck him like a blow. The gentle curve of her smile, the warmth in her eyes — it was as if a much younger version of Martha had been reborn in a face he had never known.

For a moment, the air in the study thickened with silence. Bruce's jaw tightened, and a flood of memories surged, carrying him back to the night of his parents' tragedy. He saw Martha's face, radiant and full of life, before the darkness took her away. Now, that same face stared back at him from the screen.

"What is this?" Bruce muttered to himself, his fingers tapping impatiently on the polished surface of the mahogany desk.

With a decisive gesture, he rose from his seat and moved toward the Batcave. Alfred, his ever-watchful confidant, observed the turmoil in Bruce's eyes.

"Master Wayne, might I inquire about the cause of your distress?" Alfred's calm voice cut through the tension.

Bruce handed Alfred a tablet displaying the news report. As Alfred scanned the images, the lines on his forehead deepened in concern.

"An unexpected development, sir. Shall I investigate further?" Alfred offered, his loyalty unwavering.

"No, Alfred. I'll handle this myself,"

In the heart of the Batcave, surrounded by the symbols of his dual life, Bruce Wayne accessed the Batcomputer with purpose, initiating a search that would unravel the truth behind the possible Wayne heiress.

As information unfolded on the screen, Bruce's stoic demeanor flickered with a kaleidoscope of emotions. The mystery of his potential blood-related daughter, bearing the face of his beloved mother, demanded answers that eluded even the World's Greatest Detective.

In the shadows of Wayne Manor, a silent storm brewed. All veiled behind the haunting gaze of a daughter who bore the visage of a long-lost woman.

#yandere batfam #batfam #batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #nightwing #red hood #yandere #platonic batfam #platonic #batfam x reader #platonic yandere #x reader #x fem!reader #batsis #batfam x batsis #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #tim drake x reader #damian wayne x reader #bruce wayne x reader #x you #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere damian wayne #yandere bruce wayne

[intrenid]

Dual Currency Solana Sudah Tersedia Sekarang, Matrixport Pastikan Skalabilitas Kemampuan Lebih Baik Dibandingkan Ethereum

Dual Currency Solana Sudah Tersedia Sekarang, Matrixport Pastikan Skalabilitas Kemampuan Lebih Baik Dibandingkan Ethereum

INTREN.ID, JAKARTA – Matrixport, platform layanan keuangan aset digital dengan pertumbuhan tercepat di Asia, menambah Solana (SOL) ke dalam daftar penawaran produk Dual Currency. Sebelumnya, perusahaan sudah lebih dahulu menghadirkan produk Dual Currency Bitcoin (BTC), Bitcoin Cash (BCH), dan Ethereum (ETH). Chief Operating Officer of Matrixport, Cynthia Wu mengatakan, sebagai permulaan, pengguna…

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#Bitcoin #Dual Currency #Ethereum #Headline #Jakarta #Kripto #Matrixport #Solana

[togglesbloggle]

Why do you think tumblr will die in only a few years?

Answer with jargon: a strong correlation between recent economic shifts and chaotic choices by major tech companies is most easily explained if the 'traditional' social media platforms of 2005-2020 are mostly a zero-interest rate phenomenon.

Longer answer, with less jargon: Even though Musk's takeover is making all the headlines recently, the last year has in fact seen major shakeups at many social media platforms, so Twitter is actually part of a trend. Almost inevitably, these are cases of social media companies trying to find a way to squeeze more money out of their userbase (Reddit), cut costs dramatically (Twitter), or both. This marks a sudden departure from a much more relaxed attitude towards revenue in the Pictures Of Cats industry, where the focus was historically more on expanding the userbase to a global scale and then counting on world domination to sort of <????> and then the company would become profitable eventually.

We joke, correctly, that Tumblr has never been profitable. But the entire structure of ad-supported content curation between human users is deeply suspect as a business model; IIRC Twitter was never profitable either, and Facebook has been juicing its numbers in very shenanigany ways. Discord was actually making money on net last I checked, at least a bit, so they're not all completely in the hole. But even if you take the accounting figures at face value, none of these companies has anything like the amount of money that their cultural prominence would suggest. Instead, they're heavily fueled by investment dollars, money given by super-rich people and institutions in the expectation that fueling the growth of the company now will pay off with interest later.

So what changed?

I'm not an expert here, but I'll do my best to muddle through. The American Federal Reserve has one mandate that dominates all others (sometimes called the 'dual mandate'), and one primary tool that it uses to enforce that mandate. The goal is to maintain low (but nonzero) rates of inflation and unemployment, which in their models are deeply interlinked phenomena. The tool is 'rate hikes', or more specifically, tweaking the mandatory rate of interest that banks charge one another when making loans.

As a particular consequence of this, hiking the rate also means that bonds start paying out much better. When the rate hike goes through, that affects people who let the government borrow their personal cash- that is, people who buy bonds- as well as institutions like banks that lend to one another. A rate hike means that you, personally, can make a little extra money by letting the government borrow it for a while. The federal government of the US is a rock-solid low-risk choice for this kind of moneymaking scheme, so the federal interest rate sort of defines the 'number to beat'; to attract investors, a company has to give those investors money at a better percentage than whatever the feds are offering. Particularly since a company is a lot more likely to go out of business than the state!

To wrap this back around to the Pictures Of Cats industry: the higher the rate hike, the better your company needs to be doing (or the less risky it needs to be as an option) to attract big investment dollars. Very high rates make it very hard to convince people to invest in business activity rather than the government itself, and very low rates put moonshots and big dreams on the table, investment-wise, in a way that wouldn't otherwise be possible. Social media companies were one of these big dreams.

In the great financial crisis of 2008, the Fed took the dramatic step of reducing their rate to zero, trying to juice the economy back to life. And ever since then, they've kept it there. This has produced an unprecedented amount of funding for very crazy stuff; it's part of what has allowed so many weird new tech companies (Uber, streaming services, etc.) to get so much money, so quickly, and use that to grow to massive size without a clear model of how they're ever going to make money. This state of affairs kept going for quite a while, with no clear stopping point; that zero-interest environment has been one of the shadowy forces in the background that shaped fundamental contours and limits in how our Very Online World has grown and developed. Until COVID.

Or rather, the bounce back from COVID: we suddenly saw a massive spike in inflation and an incredibly strong labor market, as employees quit in record numbers, negotiated higher salaries, and found better work, and at the same time supply chain issues and other economy stuff caused prices to climb dramatically. Recall the Fed's 'dual mandate', to control the employment rate and inflation. This was, basically, kicking them right in the jooblies. They responded in kind, finally finally raising their rates for the first time in 15 years. For some of the people reading this, it'll be the first significant shift in their entire adult lives.

The goal, as I understand it, is to fight inflation by reducing the amount of outside investment into private companies, forcing them to hire fewer people and pay smaller salaries, ultimately drawing money out of the working economy and driving prices back down by lowering demand for everything. You get paid less, so you eat out less, and buy at cheaper restaurants when you do, so restaurants have to compete harder by lowering their prices; seems pretty dodgy to me as a theory, but it's the theory. And the first part will almost certainly work- companies are going to see less investment.

For social media companies that are still paying most of their salaries with investor dollars instead of revenues, this is especially catastrophic. Without outside investment, they're just a massive pile of expenses waiting to happen, huge yearly costs in developer salaries and server fees. This is why, all of a sudden, every social media company is suddenly making bonkers decisions. They're noticing that nobody wants to give them any more money! So they're trying to figure out how to live a lot more cheaply, to actually somehow for reals turn their giant userbases in to some kind of actual revenue stream, or both.

Tumblr is kind of the ur-example of this kind of thing, supporting a very large userbase with no coherent plan whatsoever to start paying its staff with our dollars instead of investors' dollars. When interest rates were low and Scrooge McDuck had nowhere else to hide his pile of gold coins, a crazy kid with a dream was the best alternative available to him. But now, unless something changes, he's going to notice he can just buy bonds instead, and that crazy kid can go take a hike.

That's why I think Tumblr is living on borrowed time, though I don't know how much. Like all cartoons, the economy doesn't really fall off a cliff until somebody looks down and notices they've been standing on thin air this whole time. But they always fall eventually; that's the gag.

#I am not an economics #so if somebody wants to grade my accuracy here #that would be welcome #this is the situation as I understand it but my models are hazy

[house-of-lovin]

legally binded - 2

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. ♣ prev part | next part

Chapter 2: Lakers, Headlines… New York?

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual pov, famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: part 2 of legally binded! I hear yall and I see the comments! This will be a series, got a lot of ideas for this one. But of course, I am open to hearing what you guys think and want to see! A little bonding moment for R and Jenna 😮‍💨

Word Count: 6.3k+ (lol sorry, may have gone overboard!)

“So… what does this mean, exactly?” Jenna asks for both of you.

“We’re gonna make the two of you the talk of the town. And hopefully get people to back off on the allegations that Jenna is difficult to work with and that Y/N is entering her Justin Bieber phase — and not the good one.” Your PR agent, Liv, purses her lips.

Jenna can’t help the snort that leaves her lips, awkwardly coughing to hide it. But you catch it anyway, throwing her a glare.

“Difficult to work with huh?” You speak up — in faux interest. “Not hard to see why.”

This time Jenna is the one glaring at you. “You don’t even know me.”

“You don’t know me either.” You huff.

“Enough!” Jake yells. Anger steadily rose in the man’s bloodstream.

You and Jenna flinch at his loudness. Sliding down the chair, you feel ashamed again; ignoring Jenna’s piercing glare.

Liv is sighing but opts not to add fuel to the fire. “It’s going to take a few hours to get the paperwork and contract drafted —but once it’s done we’ll have it sent over to you. For now, get to know each other, I don’t know.”

You shoot Liv a scowl. She was making this already awkward situation so much worse.

She catches your look, sighing, “Just–pretend this is another job and you’re new castmates. Anything please. ” She rolls her eyes, already fed up with what disaster this morning has been.

“You can do that, right?” Liv crosses her arms, staring at you two in question.

“Yes.” Jenna mumbles.

“Mhmm.” You hum lazily, changing the subject. “Can we tell people? That this isn’t real?”

Liv glances at Jake and Sarah sharing a silent conversation. They nod at each other. “If they sign an NDA. Only family, your team and us. This cannot leave the room.”

You feel pale. You couldn’t even tell the people around you about this fake relationship without binding them to a contract? Suddenly, the situation starts to feel more real; the carpet of delusion being pulled from under you.

You’re standing up, pushing the chair back with a loud scrape that rings terribly against your ears. “I need some air.”

“You’re really leaving in the middle of a meeting?” Jenna questions with a snip, crossing her arms.

“Sorry your highness, I got better places to be. Liv you can send the contract to my assistant. Ortega, wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you… but well.” You trail off, shrugging.

Liv and Jake are fuming red in the face at your words, but you were still hungover and the comedown was begging to wreak havoc – your irritation getting harder to restrain. 

Jenna’s face scrunches, offended. You walk away, not bothering to listen for a response.

“There’s no way I can work with her…” You catch it anyway.

●●●

“I mean can you believe what they’re asking me to do!” You pace up and down your living room.

“Oh come on, I don’t buy the allegations that she’s difficult, you know they love to tear women down when they get their come up.” Link reasons tapping on his phone.

“I mean how can this face be rude?” He holds up a picture of Jenna at the SAG awards and you furrow your brows because you don’t remember seeing her there — you might have been late.

You were just nominated anyway. So you pulled a Beyoncé and only showed up for your category.

“Maybe Jenna’s not so bad?”

“Quit it.”

It was now mid-afternoon and the battering Californian sun was shining bright above clear skies and through your floor-to-ceiling windows. You bought this house in the Palisades for the peace it provided you. Not too far from central L.A. but still tucked away enough for a moment of solitude with a life like yours.

It was your own version of a sanctuary – like a home should be. 

“Okay, that sounds crazy, I agree. But dude, you fucked up. Big time.” Your long-time friend Link said. 

You and Link grew up together and when you got your come up, best believe you took your best friend with you. You offered to help him out while he lives with you as you achieve your dreams but ever the stubborn guy, he refused. Only agreeing to move to Los Angeles with you if he works as your assistant to earn his keep.

He’s a good guy like that. 

Since then, he’s been by your side. Through every disappointment, bad news, great news, red carpets, and movie premieres. You couldn’t do this job without him. 

He’s like your brother.

“I know!” You groan, dropping to the couch. Why the hell did you let your designer choose these couches? They were stiffer than a plank of wood.

“Look at this article online, 2-time Grammy winner and Academy Award Nominee, Y/N L/N’s fall from grace? Sin City indeed! The actress blacks out at a Vegas strip club! Click here to see exclusive mugshots.”

“They’re selling my fucking mugshots?” You lift your head above the headrest horrified, watching Link sit across the room on a bar stool reading his phone. 

“I’m pretty sure they’re public domain.” He refutes.

Falling back, you groan louder – hiding your face behind your palms.

“I don’t see how you have a choice, buddy.” He sighs, placing his phone on the bar top. 

“There has to be another way. Why can’t I just run away? I’ll fly back home for a couple of weeks, and let all of this shit die down. It’s worked before.” 

“Yeah, I told Jake and Liv you’d say that.” He rolls his eyes, walking to you. “I don’t think you can run from this one, Y/N.”

The softness in his voice has you sighing in defeat. He’s right, you know he’s right. This wasn’t just some tiny mistake you can brush under the carpet like all the other ones. This was serious. 

You got arrested. For blacking out with someone who had drugs on them. In a strip club, no less.

What a mess.

Something like this could seriously hurt your career. You could lose roles, relationships, connections, brand deals – the blood, sweat, and tears you poured in; everything you worked so hard for – gone.

“I know… Doesn’t make me wanna do it more though,” You mumble, distantly staring at the high ceiling.

He chuckles, “I know bud. But this is what we signed up for, right?” 

You frown. It’s what we signed up for.

It’s a mantra that you have adopted in all your years as a working performer. It certainly wasn’t the most comforting and loving thing to say, but it works because it’s true and there’s no greater motivator than a slap in the face to reality. 

You much preferred tough love anyway.

“Right.” You mutter.

“Come on, I think Jenna’s manager just sent me the signed contract, they’re just waiting for your signature.” He walks off to his office. 

You close your eyes, letting the sun warm you up through the glass panes. A few moments pass until Link comes back out with a tablet and pen. “Sign here, under Jenna’s signature.”

She has pretty handwriting – you note as you sign the electronic document. 

Call it weird but you had a thing for people with neat handwriting, steady hands and all that. 

But then you remember who the professional signature belonged to and forced yourself to snap out of it.

“Did you even read it?” He arches a brow.

“That’s what lawyers are for.”

He scoffs, “Okay, superstar. It basically says what you and Jenna need to do. Public spottings at first, then dates, appearances at each other's events. Maybe posts on social media, but the idea is to be discreet – we can’t have it seem like we’re using this to scrub away the Vegas incident.”

“But that’s exactly what we’re doing,” You sigh.

“Yeah, but they don’t know that. And it’s your damn job to make sure they don’t ever find out either.”

You rub your forehead; a headache beginning to form. Not sure if it was from the hangover or from all this PR mess.

“Anways,” He takes the tablet out of your hands. “I’ll send these over to Liv. Now as for you. Go upstairs, take a shower because you smell horrendous and then put on what your stylist picked out.”

Wrinkling your nose, you ask, “What, why? I literally just got back, I already have to go out and show my face? The paparazzi will hound me.” 

“We have to beat the Vegas headline with a bigger story, so you need to be seen with Jenna ASAP. That means out for a late lunch at a well-known spot downtown. You have to act like the news doesn’t bother you – like you’re moving past it.”

“Who goes out for late lunch?” 

He sends you a pointed look. 

“I’ll be upstairs…” You mumble, dragging your feet as you ascend the steps.

●●●

You tap your fingers on the steering wheel, glancing up at the modest house through your sunglasses.

A mid-modern century house in Glendale. Not where you pictured her to live but whatever. Her front yard was bare but professionally trimmed. No signs of any plant life that made the space look a little… dull. The only signs of life in the house was the humble SUV that you assumed belonged to the young actress.

Your tapping grows impatient the longer you wait.

As if staring harder at the front door will make the actress come out faster. Another five agonizing minutes pass – you seriously consider pulling away to go home and sleep off this hangover but Link stood a good half-foot taller than you.

He’d lock your ass out of your own home. 

Eventually, the door opens and the short brunette walks down the driveway in confident strides. Dressed in jeans, combat boots and a cardigan; those headphones around her neck, again. Somehow, she looked consistently gothic and you pondered if she really was like her character in real life.

You see her scan your Mercedes-AMG GT3 for a moment before pulling the passenger door open; sliding into the cushy seats. “Nice car.”

You blink, “Thanks… you sure took your time though,”

You couldn’t stop the slight attitude that accompanied your words.

She gives you a sharp glance, “why didn’t you just ring the doorbell?”

“You had to unlock the gate to let me in, you knew I was waiting outside.” You huff, staring at her back. 

“Then would have waited in the living room if you had knocked. What difference does it make?” She shrugs.

“That’s not the poi–” You gruff but stop, inhaling a deep breath. The pounding in your skull was begging for you to cool down. 

“I think I much preferred waiting in the car… alone.” You whisper the last bit then shoot her a sarcastic glance; shifting the gear in reverse.

You don’t bother to check if she had her seatbelt on as you aggressively pull out her driveway; leaving skid marks on the pavement.

She jerks forward at the sudden movement. “Shit– a little warning next time?” She glares bracing herself on the dashboard.

“Hands off the leather,” You bite as you pull off her street and to the restaurant Link sent you the directions to. 

She scoffs. “My driveway!”

●●●

“Table for 2 under Ortega? Please follow me, can I be the first one to say how delighted we are that you two decided to dine here.” The host enthused a little too much.

“It’s our pleasure.” Jenna answers politely.

You plaster a tight-lipped smile keeping quiet; sliding a modest hand on Jenna’s back when he leads you past other patrons and to a secluded table – heads already turning in your direction. Jenna jumps, sending you a menacing glare and for a moment you feel slightly scared by the fire in her eyes – dropping your hand immediately. 

Okay, no touching. Got it.

“Here we are, the best seat in the house. We have complementary champagne on the table to start your evening. We’ll give you a few moments to get settled,” He sends a tight smile causing his wrinkles to show – definitely trying too hard but you’d never say no to free alcohol.

“Thank you,” You bid, pulling a chair out for Jenna.

She walks to claim the opposite chair, assuming you’re taking the one you pulled out. But she stares as you stand behind the open chair, awkwardly. Only then did she seem to realize that the seat was for her.

Raising her brows, she looked a little surprised but wordlessly and a bit awkwardly (she sends a tight-lipped smile) sits over to the chair allowing you to push it in for her, before taking your own seat across.

The first thing you grab is the bottle of champagne and the flute. 

You miss Jenna’s tracking eyes as you pour a hefty glass. “Is that really the best thing for you to have, especially after last night? Also, it’s like 4 PM.”

“I didn’t know you were the alcohol police and it’s 8 PM somewhere.” You take big gulps of the champagne, savouring the way it burned but also felt cool on the way down.

“Trust me, I’m not. But my ass is on the line here too and there are people watching.” She grits out the last part, signalling with her eyes. You glance up catching two girls from another table with their phones up, no doubt taking pictures and recording you and Jenna. 

Looking away, you place the glass flute down, sitting back in your seat with a slump. “Fine…”

“When are you going to take this seriously?” She whispers, tone: sharp.

“I am taking this seriously,” You fight to keep your face impassive knowing there are eyes on you both. 

“No, you’re not. You couldn’t even sit through the meeting this morning and now you’re acting like a child. Might I remind you, we’re in this mess because of you.”

You clench your jaw, trying your hardest not to blow up in this fine establishment. 

“I’m the reaso—“

“Are we ready to order?” The waitress cuts in.

“Yes, we are.” Jenna turns to her with that large, sweet smile that sells millions.

●●●

‘New Gal-Pals in Hollywood, Y/N L/N and Jenna Ortega spotted out for lunch’

It was now the following day after your ‘lunch date’ with Jenna and you wish to say it only got better as time went on but that would be a lie. You two did not get along – at all. How was it possible for your management to find the one person on this planet that you just couldn’t get along with. 

You know difficult, you can handle difficult. You’ve worked with the likes of Shia Lebeouf, Gweneth Paltrow, Michael Bay… just to name a few. You’ve had your fair share of difficult colleagues.

But this girl? She’s something else. 

“Gal pals? Really?” Your nose scrunches in distaste.

“No wait, this one’s better! Wednesday star Jenna Ortega supports new bestie, Y/N L/N amid Vegas arrest.”

“Stop.” But Link’s loud laughter overpowers you.

“Oh! We got one that’s different, Trouble-maker, A-lister, Y/N L/N, will drag down rising-star Jenna Ortega!”

“Okay, that’s just bullshit.” You pique up.

“Rising star?” Jenna voices in disdain.

“Enough!” Liv’s voice echoes from your laptop speaker. “This isn’t the headline we wanted.”

You roll your eyes, scanning the candid photo of you and Jenna sitting at the restaurant.

The images look tame enough and can definitely be interpreted as just two friends out for a bite. News outlets don’t buy it, but the internet is already freaking out; spewing out unsolicited opinions on this new pairing. Some think you two are just friends, some think it’s a date, others think it’s for a movie role.

“I thought I did a good job,” Jenna speaks up on the other line of the Facetime call. 

“Clearly not…” You mumble, but she catches it anyway, rolling her eyes. 

“We need to up the ante, this is not good enough.” Liv sighs and you can hear the trepidation through the call.

“Like what?”

“There’s a Lakers game tonight and you two are making your first official appearance.” She grins with mischief.

“Lakers?” Jenna rouses, sounding excited.

“How would they interpret that differently than before?” Shaking your head.

“I got a plan already, darling. I have a guy in TMZ who’s going to break the first official headline that you two are in the ‘getting to know each other’ stage. Which is where you two come in… after the game headlines of your guys’ date night will be the number one trending topic.” She explains, eyes lighting up in excitement.

Liv loves to lay out her plans to whoever was willing to listen — you’re already tuning her out.

You are sure her plan is genius like she says it is.

“Are they versing someone decent, at least?” You ask tiredly. When were you going to get some time to yourself?

“Celtics.”

“I’m in.”

●●●

“Do you really have to wear sunglasses indoors? Everyone knows we’re here.” Jenna whispers from beside you.

“It’s part of the look.” You retort, sliding down the foldable chair. Why are courtside seats so uncomfortable for all the money I’m paying?

“What look.”

“We got two stars in the Lakers house tonight! Everyone, please give a warm welcome to Y/N L/N and Jenna Ortega!”’ The announcer booms through the stadium speakers. 

Looking up at the jumbotron, you and Jenna are plastered big and bright on the screen. You flash a dazzling smile and force your body to untense – ignoring Jenna’s quip.

You embrace the loud cheers and applauds, waving and sending the camera that dazzling smile you have mastered. Jenna copies your movements.

Eventually, the camera pans away from you two and you finally feel like you can breathe again. 

“God, I think my eardrums ruptured.” She complains, clutching her earring clad-ears painfully.

You laugh, “Oh come on, you don’t have people shouting for your attention at you at every turn?”

She frowns, shaking her head, “Not at this level… I like to think I still have some anonymity.”

Snorting, you say, “Yeah well, just wait. That’ll all be gone — so enjoy it while you can.” 

You don’t see her frown deepen because you spot a familiar face. “Look who’s in the house!”

“Hey!” You stand briskly. Lebron James comes barreling over in large steps; greeting you with a hug and a pat on the back. 

“Feeling ready for tonight?” You ask, smiling up at the athlete. Being a big name in Hollywood definitely came with nice perks like knowing world-renowned athletes.

As much as you complain about your life – this is certainly a perk you can’t deny.

“You know it! We’re gonna mop the floors with your lil Celtics team.” He smirks making you laugh.

“Okay, save the trash-talking for the court... This is Jenna by the way.” You move to the side to reveal Jenna sitting; watching the two of you with a flabbergasted look on her face. 

“Nice to meet you, Jenna. My kids loved Wednesday, I think my daughter might dress up as you this Halloween.” He jokes; shaking her hand. 

It was quite an amusing sight to see Jenna crane her neck to meet the basketball player’s eyes. And you really tried your hardest not to snort when her tiny hands slide into his gigantic palms – her upper arm practically disappearing in his grasp.

They continue talking for a few more moments before the basketball player eventually bids his goodbye to continue warming up. 

“You’re friends with Lebron James?” She asked in disbelief when you sit back down.

“Yeah, is that surprising?” You arch a brow.

“Yes?” She asks like you were stupid for even asking.

You chuckle. “Well, now you know.” 

“Also… a Celtics fan, really? That’s just disgraceful.” She shakes her head.

You scrunch your face in faux annoyance, puffing your chest proudly, “Hell yeah the Celtics! We’re gonna wipe the court with your little Lakers in their own house.” 

“Don’t let people hear you say that, you’ll be stoned,” She laughs heartily. 

For a brief moment, you watch as she shakes in laughter at her own joke – unable to fight the infectiousness of her laugh. Her bangs shake with her movements as she attempts to hide her smile behind her hand.

Were you guys getting along? Nah, impossible. 

“I’ll just use you as a shield.”

“I’m like five-foot, I don’t think I’ll be much help.” She snorts. 

“Pocket-sized shield – makes travelling easier.” You shrug, smirking. 

She shoots you a side-eye but you see the smirk she tries to hide from you. 

Eventually, the national anthem is sung and tip-off begins. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying yourself right now. After the weekend disaster in Vegas, all you wanted to do was sleep away your fuck-ups. But this… isn’t so bad. 

Jenna seems to have loosened up and allowed herself to enjoy the game.

You cheer enthusiastically when the Celtics go on a 12-0 run in the fourth quarter. 

The score is 94 - 90, with the Lakers in the lead. You were standing now, your concession drinks and snacks forgotten under your chair. The energy in the stadium is infectious as everyone cheers for their respective teams.

“This is what I’m talking about, now we got a game!” You clap loudly, yelling.

“$100 Lakers win this one.” The sweet voice shouts over the crowd.

You turn, grinning. “That’s it? $1000, Celtics win.” 

The quiet contemplation is burning bright in her eyes, but eventually, she gives in extending her hand. “You’re on.”

Somehow, your grin stretches wider when she slides her hand in yours to seal the deal. “I can’t wait to be a $1000 richer.”

“In your dreams,” she clicks her tongue, focusing on the court.

“Come on ref, that was a foul!” She shouts at the checkered-shirt man as he runs past you.

She’s not looking at you but you find yourself unable to look away from her. 

Granted, you barely knew anything about Jenna before meeting her yesterday. But you think you like this laid-back version of her more than the one you met at first.

A whistle-blowing breaks your staring before it becomes too obvious.

Eventually, the game goes into overtime with the score being 104 - 104 when the Lakers gets both free throws in. You’re practically shaking in excitement as you watch from courtside.

You are bent over, hands on your knees like a soccer mom watching their kid get a penalty kick. You miss Jenna snapping a photo of the court with you bent over in the corner of the picture.

“Come on, Tatum!” You shout, a vein on your forehead protruding. 

“Did you say a $1000 richer?” She mocks, using your words against you.

“Don’t go on a victory lap yet,” You stand as the last time-out is called, “The score’s even and there’s still 5 seconds on the clock. It’s anybody's game right now.”

When the whistle blows signalling time-out is over, you are tense again. Jenna seems to share your sentiments as she absentmindedly grabs your jacket when the Celtics shooting guard walks behind the line to inbound the ball.

Anticipation getting the best of her.

You ignore the touch – unsure if you wanted to pull away or never move your arm again.

“Shit!” You yell when someone on the Lakers intercepts the Celtics attempt to inbound — sloppily passing it to another player in gold and purple. 

3 seconds remaining on the clock and a fast-break on the Lakers side ensues; green jerseys struggling to keep up.

“Schroder tips the Celtics inbound and manages to pass it off to Thompson, to James! James with a hail mary from half-court with 2 seconds, will he make it!” The announcer exclaims.

It was like the movies when everything goes silent and somehow you see everything in slow motion. You watch as the ball spins high above in the air with the powerful throw from the Laker’s power forward. The only thing you feel is Jenna’s fist gripping your arm, bunching the jacket in her hands. 

You unconsciously lean into her; the intensity of the room bouncing off you. 

The ball continues to spin until it amazingly flies through the basket with a satisfying swoosh and the buzzer rings loudly.

The crowd explodes – bursting into loud cheers. 

“Holy shit!” Jenna jumps, cheering.

“No fucking way.” You groan.

You feel her grab your shoulders to face her, still jumping up and down; a large smile on her face. You find yourself matching her grin despite your team not winning. 

Nodding in defeat, you admit, “Okay, okay… that was a pretty great game.”

“Great?” She shakes you like a rag doll, “That was the best game I’ve ever seen!” 

“Are you turning into a basketball fan, Miss Ortega?” You tease as she pulls away from you.

Still with a grin, she says, “Never… Football will always have my heart.”

“I didn’t peg you for an NFL fan but I guess I’ve heard stranger things.” You tease as she rolls her eyes.

“Soccer, Y/N.”

“Why didn’t you just call it the proper name then?”

“We are not starting this.” She holds a hand up, turning to sit back in her seat. The high of winning the bet, dwindling away.

●●●

“This is me…” Jenna says into the quiet night air. 

You shifted on your feet as you stood by your car. The night had been an unexpected…. success. After the game, you two made sure to stick around to chat and take pictures with fans in the crowd. 

The more eyes that saw you two together, the better. 

“Um… this was nice, I guess.” You mumble, feeling a bit awkward now that it was just you and her. 

She blinks up at you, surprised by your admission. “Uh – yeah, this wasn’t bad. Surprising, but not bad.” 

A small smile creeps on your face, “Okay, well I guess I’ll see you later… or whenever our managers say we need to be seen together again.” 

She laughs, nodding, “Yeah…”

A bright flash from your peripheral has you blinking, unfocused. “What the–”

“Paps…” She sighs. “Kiss my cheek.”

“What?” You asked bewildered.

She sends you a pointed look, turning her back from the direction of the flash so they couldn’t see her face. “Kiss my cheek, they’ll take a picture and then they’ll know we’re not just gal pals.”

Jenna is rolling her eyes but you’re still stuck in your spot. “Y/N.”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you clear your throat, “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Something indecipherable shines in her eyes, but it disappears as she blinks, “You’re not asking for my hand in marriage, Y/N. Just kiss my cheek.”

Blushing, you lean down. Shyly placing your lips on her soft-dimpled cheek – she leans into the contact, placing a hand on your neck. Immediately, a flurry of bright flashes and sounds of clicking interrupt the moment. 

“Goodnight, Jenna.” You say softly once you pulled away; ignoring the goosebumps that rose on your skin.

“Goodnight.” She takes a moment to look at you before walking to unlock her gate.

You wait until she opens the metal door; not missing the kind eyes she shoots you as she shuts the gate. Only once Jenna’s out of your view did you let out a deep sigh, turning around.

“Y/N! Over here! Did you just kiss Jenna Ortega? What about the singer you were with in Vegas? Are you two over?”

You didn’t want to give the paparazzi lurking on her street more reason to stay, so you keep your head down ignoring their shouting and slip into your car.

●●●

“How was it?” Her sister’s voice can be heard on her phone. 

“Awful – she’s a menace, Mia.” Jenna replies as she opens her fridge, looking for a mid-afternoon snack. 

It was now Sunday afternoon and as predicted – you and Jenna are the top headline of every major news outlet in America. 

“Did you tell her that you loved her in Little Women?” 

“What? No, of course not! I’m not gonna tell her that.”

“Why not? You watched that movie like five times when it came out.” Her sister reminds.

“Shut up, Mia.”

“Okay, anyways…” She trails off, laughing. “I saw the pictures. You’re smiling pretty wide with her. Also the kiss on the cheek when she was dropping you off? Chef’s kiss. Just perfect.”

Jenna rolls her eyes, “It’s all part of the act. Of course, I look happy.”

“There’s videos of you jumping on her. I can barely scroll through my Twitter feed without seeing an edit of you two at the game.”

“Stop. I don’t want to talk about her anymore.” Jenna snaps.

“Okay, okay…” Mia laughs and Jenna can picture her raising her hands in surrender. “Let’s talk about New York, are you excited?’

Jenna lets out a repressed sigh. With all of this PR mess with you, she hasn’t had time to think about how busy her schedule is about to be. The Scream VI premiere and SNL is inching closer and the Coachella native is feeling the familiar phantoms of anxiety rumbling in her chest. 

“Yeah, of course, I am. It’s SNL…”

“But?” Aliyah, her younger sister’s voice comes out of nowhere.

“But it’s SNL!” Jenna exclaims, “It’s a big deal! What if… what if I fuck up? Or I break character?”

“Okay… let’s take a deep breath,” Mia speaks up. She recognizes her sister’s looming anxiety and knew she had to act before the young actress sends herself into a panic. “You will kill it, like you always do and you won’t mess up. It’s okay to be a little nervous.

“Right, right.” Jenna agrees but the weighted pressure in her chest was still to creeping in.

Mia hums over the line unconvinced, “Listen, the whole family is flying in before your premiere. So don’t worry, we’ll be there, cheering you on!” 

Jenna can’t fight the smile that creeps up on her face. The thought of her family being there on one of the most important nights of her career is all she needs. They always had her back, picking her up when she felt like she couldn’t do it anymore. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate that.”

●●●

“You want me to fly to New York, to what– be her personal cheerleader?” You dead-pan, watching as Link frantically throws clothes and shoes into a suitcase. 

It’s been about a week since the Lakers and Celtics game and news of you and Jenna’s night out in town are still abuzz. The two of you made a couple more subtle appearances over the last couple of days and the media is eating it up shamelessly. Pictures of you and the star are plastered on the front pages; be it grabbing coffee or grocery shopping or walking your dog at the park.

Now, you couldn’t even step outside without someone hurling Jenna’s name at you.

But you couldn’t lie. It was nice to have some company while you run your errands. Only yours though — you hated when you had to do hers. Jenna always thought too hard about which cereal to get, like she’s ever home to eat it.

‘New budding romance in Hollywood? Do we have a new power couple on the rise with Y/N L/N and Jenna Ortega? These two seem to be getting to know each other well… click here to read more’ 

Was the first thing you read when you turned on your phone this morning. 

Of course, it’s never that easy because there are still a handful of nobodies sending hateful messages about your criminal escapades – not everyone was convinced.

Some well-known people on social media – people you personally know are adding fuel to the fire; engaging in discourses of you and Jenna and if you are dragging her down just by being associated with you.

Fake-ass motherfuckers.

“Yes, I think those are the exact words Jake and Liv put in their texts, actually.” He reaches for his phone to read over the message; mocking you. 

“Stop, Link…” You run a hand on your face, “Tell them I’m not going. I have better things to do, Coachella is right around the corner and I literally have a song I need to send to my producer.”

He watches as you childishly cross your arms, scowling. 

If you weren’t his best friend he would’ve said goodbye to the Hollywood life – too rich for his blood. Link wasn’t sure how he still put up with your attitude after all these years. Could you have said those words any more snobbishly?

“Are you done?”

“No.”

“Well you don’t have a damn choice. Now, take a shower – Marcus will be here in an hour to drive us to LAX. And you can record in New York, no one said you had to be attached to Jenna’s hip.”

“What if I don’t want to.” You stand your ground. 

“Don’t do this today, Y/N.” He sighs. 

For a few moments, you hold your ground; contemplating if you should dig a hole and barricade yourself – metaphorically, of course. But never say never. 

Link raises a challenging brow – daring you to try him today. 

Wow, someone must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed…

Knowing what that look meant, you knew when to pick your battles and accepted the loss, trudging over to the master bathroom but not before slamming the door behind you.

“Don’t be slamming doors ‘round here! I don’t care if the house is under your name.” He shouts from the other side. 

“Fuck off!” You yell back, yanking your shirt off as the water turns hot.

He is such a dad.

–

“What are you doing here?”

“Hi to you too, Jenna. How was your day? Mine was great, the flight was a bit bumpy but I can handle a ‘lil turbulence. Thanks for asking.” You reply, ignoring the furrow in her brow hidden behind the silky fringe. 

You wonder what conditioner she uses to get her hair looking that soft.

“Y/N…” Jenna sighs, walking past you to enter your hotel suite. Walking into the living room to place her shoulder bag on the coffee table then she turns to face you, crossing her arms still waiting for an answer. “I’m serious, why are you in New York.”

You lean against a wooden panel, crossing your arms as well. “Didn’t your team tell you?”

Her frown deepens, patience thinning the longer you beat around the bush. “Obviously not or I wouldn’t be here.”

“Okay relax…” You warn not appreciating her tone. You literally just landed an hour ago and it’s almost midnight East Coast time. The timezone switch is fucking with you and her attitude is the last thing you need. 

“Don’t tell me to relax.” She snaps. The young actress hated those words, it always made her more riled up.

You scoff trying your hardest not to snap back but controlling your anger has never been your strong suit. “Why do you think I’m here? Liv told me I had to show face for your premiere and SNL episode. Be your cheerleader or some shit.”

She drops her arms, frown still etched on her soft face. What? Ignore that.

“Shit, I think Sarah might’ve mentioned it but I was just so busy with rehearsal and fittings with Enrique that I didn’t see.” Jenna sighs, rubbing her forehead.

For the first time since she barged into your room – you take a moment to scan her. Her face is bare and makeup free but you can see the dark smudges from her eyeliner earlier today just under the lashline. She was dressed in a large sweater and mismatched sweatpants; the sleeves are so long it covers half her hands and her short wavy locks tied into a messy low bun.

Her clothes practically engulfed her tiny stature. You figure this is a pretty rare sight that most people aren’t privy to and suddenly you’re unsure as to why it’s so hard to look away. 

“I didn’t mean to snap… I’m sorry.” She says quietly, looking at you like she was genuinely apologetic. 

“It’s fine…” You shrug and pushed off the wall to sit on the couch. Everyone has their days, you thought.

“I didn’t mean to ambush you. I really thought you knew I’d be here.” You turn on the TV, not being to stand the silence in the large room.

Jenna sits down beside you, tucking her feet against her chest. When did she take off her shoes? “It’s not your fault.”

The sigh she lets out is heavy and something tells you there’s some meaning behind it too. But you didn’t feel like it was your business so you zip it and continue watching the TV drone on about a program you don’t care about. 

“I saw clips of your SNL promo… I thought it was hilarious – you were great and that reporter outfit? So cool.” You change the subject. It gets her to smile as her dimples poke out, a little shy now. 

“It’s so cringy.” She covers her face. 

“Awh, nah… the internet loved it.” You laugh, a little amused that the actress was all flushed by a single compliment. 

Call it big-headed, call it ego, call it whatever you want but you personally relished it when people fawned over you. 

“Of course they did. They’re the whole reason for the meme.” She rolls her eyes after dropping her hands but she still had a toothy smile. 

“I bet that dance follows you everywhere…” 

“Every. Fucking. Day.” She says then raises a brow at you, “How do you know about the dance, though?’

You send her an affronted look, “I’m not a grandmother, Jenna. I know what’s hip with the kids.”

She snorts, “You’re an idiot – I just mean, I didn’t think you were on TikTok like that with a schedule like yours. Also, that app is toxic.”

“Every social media app can be toxic.” You quip, “But get off your high horse, your majesty. I literally just saw a couple of edits on Twitter of it.”

“Uh huh…” She hums, unconvinced, if the side glance she throws you was any indication. “But yeah the writers wanted to do a bit with Wednesday and this is what we came up with.”

“Well, I think it’s genius… from a business standpoint.” You offer up, nudging her shoulder then turning back to the TV.

You miss Jenna’s bothered frown. “Business standpoint?”

“Yeah,” You say off-handedly, “It’s smart, good for you.”

“Are most things a ‘business standpoint’ for you?” She asks, genuinely curious about what you could mean.

“Hmm. I guess I never thought of it like that but now that I’m saying it out loud, yeah, kinda.” You shrug, thinking about it. 

Most of the interactions in Hollywood that you have had are based on transactions and is usually for your own self-interest.

“...That’s kinda sad.” She says getting you to turn.

“What does that mean?” You frown.

“I’m just saying… there’s more to this industry than business deals and brand offers.” This time Jenna offers up a thought but it sounds a bit judgemental to you, shrugging.

You’re furrowing your brows, sitting up straight. “Look, you don’t even know me. Just forget what I said.”

But the laugh she lets out grinds your gears in the most unpleasant way.

Jenna holds up her hands in surrender but it feels mocking. “Clearly…” She emphasizes. “But I’m just saying, there’s no need to get all defensive.”

“Okay, I don’t know what kind of shit you were dealing with today but don’t take it out on me. Don’t come to my room talking about things you know nothing about.” You glower.

She matches your frown, standing. “It kinda sounds like you’re the one dealing with something, actually.”

“I think you should leave.” Your glare turns sharp and cold, standing too.

“Already on my way out.” She scoffed, snatching her bag aggressively off the coffee table then turns to walk to the front door. 

You follow to make sure the door hits her on the way out but she stops abruptly by the hall causing you to trip on your own feet to not tumble over her. 

“I think you should go back to L.A.” She glares up at you, tightly clutching her shoulder bag.

The laugh you let out is humourless, stepping back to create space between you and the other actress. “And get my ass handed to me by Jake, Liv and Sarah? They’re like four horsemen of the apocalypse – just searching for their last member. No thanks. You got a problem with me here? You deal with it.”

She clenches her jaw, “Done. Leave it to me.” Then turns and leaves making sure to slam the door shut. 

Those hotel doors weigh a fuck ton, how did she do that? And what did she mean leave it to me?

“Can I come out now?” Link peeks his head out from the adjoining room; fear present on his features.

●●●

:)

-

tagging who comment so far:

@alexkolax @ladey @jjsmaybank20 @werewoofrobinbuckley

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega #wednesday netflix #legally binded

[multifandomgirl08]

Me Against Him - M.V. #1

Max Verstappen x Younger Verstappen Sister!Reader (Platonic), Unnamed Male Character x Younger Verstappen Sister!Reader (Romantic)

Summary: You never wanted to be on the sidelines watching your brother compete, you wanted to be out there with him fighting for a championship.

Warning(s): Dual POVs (Reader and Max), Jos Verstappen (on page), Kelly Piquet (mention). I’m warning for Kelly as a precaution to those who aren’t a fan of her, she was in the request so I’m only writing about her because of that. She will be brought up in part 2.

A/N: Taken from this Request by @fordlita. I had to work with what I felt was important vs. fitting everything that was given to me in the request. That is why it has taken so long to work on this request. Most of this is just set up for part 2, which I've already started working on. I have no plans on extending this further than that.

Words: 1.8k

→ Next Part Formula 1 Masterlist

From the moment that you started karting, you knew that it would never be easy. Being one of the few girls striving to drive in Formula 1 and get a seat. It had always been tough especially since your brother was also working for a Formula 1 seat.

Racing and competing had always come easy to Max, even when you were both karting, your father Jos had always made Max the priority. He would finish working on Max's kart first, he would give Max the more expensive parts. You would put the same time and effort into competing and somehow it was never enough.

Once you had finally made it to F1 Academy and were racing with some of the other top women in the sport things seemed to feel like they were easier for you.

In the eyes of the media, Max was still the prodigal child of Jos Verstappen, and you were just Max's youngest sister, Victoria's twin, and Sophie Kumpen's karting legacy.

You loved your mother, she was the one who encouraged you to give karting a real try, not just because of your father or Max but because you really loved it and racing had made you happy.

Over the two years that you had been in F1 Academy, you had managed to win a championship and eventually, your agent had gotten a call from McLaren to be their reserve driver. You weren’t happy with being their reserve driver. You wanted to be driving for the team. And then you finally got your opportunity.

Six weeks later you had gotten another call from your agent telling you that McLaren wanted to sign you to be their second driver for the upcoming season.

It was everything that you had worked for all your life. You had called your mom and Victoria and shared the news with them. Victoria insisted that she should fly out to celebrate but instead, you offered to fly home to Holland and spend time with her given that she had your nephew Lio a few months ago.

When you had told Max, he had been excited for you and said he couldn’t wait to see you around the paddock all the time, and Max’s girlfriend Kelly even seemed happy for you.

Your father however didn’t have much to say when he heard from Raymond that you ended up signing with the team that you did. It was like you being the first woman to gain a seat in F1 meant nothing to him.

Over the next few years, Max won championship after championship. Your father was forever proud of Max and his achievements. With each championship win, it was like the media had also started to pay more attention to Max. It went from headlines like, “Brother and sister duo Max and Y/N Verstappen take P1 and P2 in Monza” to “Max Verstappen ahead of the rest of the field”. You had read that article. Every driver got at least a good paragraph about that race in Singapore, while you got a single sentence. Y/N Verstappen, younger sister of Max Verstappen started in qualifying P9 before dropping down to P15 during the race because of gearbox issues.

You never wanted to be on the sidelines watching your brother compete, you wanted to be out there with him fighting for a championship.

When the season started again you made a promise to yourself, you weren’t going to focus on Max or your father. Focus on what’s going on on the track, and don’t worry about the rest of the grid. You could still be friendly with Lando when you needed to but it would be easier if you avoided Max altogether. You needed people to see that you were much more than just Max Verstappen's baby sister.

So after the first race of the season, you stopped going to Max and congratulating him after races. Stopped visiting him, Kelly, and P when you weren’t with your fiancé. You didn’t talk to Victoria as often and barely called your mom when things felt like they were too much. You had barely made the effort to talk to your father after his second divorce went through and only spent time with your half-sister when you needed to.

It was just easier to shut them all out. The media couldn’t say anything if there was nothing to talk about.

"This is outrageous, my sister won't talk to me," Max yelled as he stood in his mother’s living room.

Victoria was sitting on the couch while his mother was sitting in the armchair, his father looked stoic. Aside from his father, they were all concerned about Y/N, she didn’t talk to anyone unless it was for birthdays or holidays.

Max was genuinely concerned for his little sister, they had always been close, even closer than Y/N and Victoria had been growing up because while Max and Jos were off in some part of Europe for a karting race Y/N would be with them, offering to help Max without Jos around or wanting Max’s advice on the way that something in her kart wasn’t working right. What she could do to make it better for her and the type of feedback to give their father as he was working on both of their karts.

He had been so proud of Y/N when she signed her contract with McLaren, even if it wasn’t Red Bull or Mercedes. Being able to share podiums with her meant so much since they ended up in different junior categories before they both got to F1. He always wanted her to succeed.

“It's fine Max, she’ll get over it.” His father said leaning back in his chair.

He just glared at him. His father didn’t care that Y/N wasn’t talking to him, he said that it was good for her. She was finally getting podiums and had ended up getting engaged in the last few months. Jos said that it was good, she would keep driving in F1 until she was married and then end up giving up the sport when she was ready to have kids.

Max knew that it was a lie that Y/N had told Jos to shut him up. Y/N wasn’t going to retire until she knew that she had a real chance at winning a WDC, she wanted to be the first woman to accomplish that feat.

At the next race, Max walked by the McLaren garage to try to talk to Y/N but he didn't see her so he ended up looking for Lando instead. He saw him talking with some guy in a suit.

"Yeah, she's a great teammate. A little intense at times, but Max can get like that too." He heard Lando say.

"Do you know why she doesn't talk to them anymore?" He heard the suit guy ask. "From how she brings it up, it's as if they did something. We've been together a long time and I've never even met her family."

"Honestly man, I don't know. That doesn't seem like how I know Max or any of Y/N's family. Maybe talk to Max." Max saw Lando point in his direction. "He is standing, just over there."

At first, Max didn’t recognize the guy in the suit. He was taller than you for sure, and he looked a little too comfortable around the paddock to just be a fan or celebrity. As he got closer Max started to recognize him, he was the man you were engaged to. Max did wonder how you ended up engaged to a real estate broker who was from the States. It seemed so strange to him.

Max walked closer to him, pointing himself towards Lando so the men would think that he wasn't paying him any mind. He didn't want to insult his sister's fiancé, just make the other guy aware that he didn't know who he was.

"Hey, Max, right?" He heard from the guy.

Max turned towards him, looking at the man in the suit. He was a little overdressed for a Formula 1 race.

"Yes, do I know you?" It was a fair thing to ask. Max didn't know him and this guy didn't know Max.

"No, but I know your sister." He offered before stretching his hand out to Max's to shake. "We're together."

That wasn't much of an explanation. He didn't even know if Y/N had told this guy that their family knew that she was getting married but none of them had met him before.

"So you're my baby sister's fiancé." He bit out not taking this guy's hand.

Max wasn't normally rude to anyone. When he was younger, Jos would have ripped him a new one for something like this.

Max could see that the guy was shocked hearing this from him.

"Yeah, I am." He answered.

Part of Max wanted to walk away from him, the part that was angry that his sister wouldn't talk to him and had stopped confiding in him over this last year.

"I just wanted to talk to you about her." He started to say. "She's been different and as her family, I would think that you would want to keep being in her life."

Max immediately wanted to stop this guy from finishing his sentence. This guy had no idea what his relationship with his younger sister was like, and he didn't need this guy to tell him.

Max was quick to look around the room, trying to see if there were reports or cameras around. He didn't need any of those people giving opinions about his family. Luckily all of them weren't in the garage.

"I want to keep being in her life, it's hard to when she's pushed me out of it," Max said cutting him off.

This guy's shoulders instantly dropped a little. He had no idea that it was Y/N who had pulled away from her family and left them in the dark for the last year. This guy was just as clueless as he was.

"I um... I had no idea." Max looked at him and could tell that he felt awkward.

"Yes, well she hasn't been talking to quite a few people lately." Max couldn't help but fire at him. He shouldn't be angry at this guy, but he can't help it. Y/N had been the one to pull away from all of them, and Max knew that the media was to blame for all of it.

He just wanted his baby sister back in his life.

"Maybe we can help each other," His sister's fiancé suggested. "You want your sister back in your life, and I would like to see my fiancée happy again."

Max wanted to think this over. He didn't just want to agree with the guy out of nowhere but he could try to hear him out.

"You have something in mind?" He asked. The man before him nodded.

They agreed to swap numbers and would find a time and place to talk.

F1 Taglist: @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @thatsusbitch

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #formula 1 imagine #mv1 imagine #f1 imagine #mv33 imagine #mv33 x reader #mv1 x reader

[race-week]

I just saw an interview clip from a little while ago (British GP I think)

It was Alex Albon being interviewed by Naomi Schiff and Simon Lazenby and Schiff said something like “I know you have dual nationality and race under a Thai flag but you are the 4th Brit in the top 10”

And Alex’s response was “yeah, I’m a Brit when I do well and not a Brit when I don’t do well” he said it whilst laughing a bit, but isn’t that the truth when it comes to how the media (specifically the British media) has treated him over the years.

During 2020 I remember being bombarded by headlines and comments along the lines of “Thai racer Alexander Albon underperforming”, but since his return to F1 and his success at Williams it’s almost all “British born Alex Albon”

[barnesafterglow]

night shift

summary: your growing fame becomes too much for bucky

pairing: actor!bucky barnes x singer!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: fame au, dual pov, unreliable narrators, idk how the grammys work (clearly), angst angst angst, steve is a good friend, bucky is Going Thru It, if you think this is joe + taylor coded you're prob right, directly inspired by night shift by lucy dacus

a/n: yearly fic, dedicated to new lovers

masterlist - i no longer have a tag list but you can follow @theafterglowlibrary to get updates! 🤍

You shoved him off of you, heart racing, breaths coming fast. You had said Bucky’s name, had whispered it in your most intimate moment, and now you needed to leave.

You said nothing else, gathering up your clothes and pulling them on as quickly as you could.

“Wha-”

The door slammed behind you, cold winter winds whipping around you as you realized you’d left your jacket on the hook by the door. It was your favorite, but one you were okay sacrificing as long as you didn’t have to face your embarrassment anymore.

Huffing a breath you could see in front of your face, you called an Uber - at least you had remembered your phone - and paced anxiously a block away from his building, hoping and praying he wouldn’t follow you out.

The entire ride home your mind spiraled until you turned off your phone, terrified this would make headlines already and, let’s be honest, no one would be surprised if it did. You hated that was the life you lived. As if your breakup with Bucky hadn’t already been tabloid fodder for weeks now, the public speculating every detail and warping every comment and photo posted. You had taken to keeping off social media altogether in the time since, trying to disguise your outings as much as possible and take back alleys to recordings and friends’ houses.

Your biggest supporter through all of this, surprisingly, had been Steve - Bucky’s best friend. He hadn’t been your friend first, sure, but he had become like a brother to you nonetheless, and he knew the situation better than anyone. You knew he still talked to Bucky just the same and, while that stung a little, you couldn’t fault him for being there for his childhood best friend too.

Which is how you ended up outside his apartment the very next morning, clad in your typical-as-of-late attire of a hoodie and a hat and sunglasses. It was also how you came face to face with Bucky for the first time since that fateful night.

“I didn’t come to sit here and watch you stare at your feet, James.” You stood from his couch, starting to seethe with pent up anger from your gradually failing relationship, all to end up here. What did he want? To absolve his guilt and shake hands and everything would be fine?

No. You had been the victim of his petty remarks and anxious jealousy for so long. You wouldn’t let him think he deserved your time when he didn’t respect the person you had become. 

Your anger flashed back to the week before, the last time you had been seen out in public together as he was breaking up with you at your favorite coffee shop, where he had paid for your drink and you gave him a hesitant kiss, even though you knew it was inevitably coming. He had led you to a table in the corner and proceeded to tell you that he was sorry but he couldn’t do this anymore, it was too much for him - you were too much for him. Okay. That’s all you said was “okay” before you pushed out of the chair and walked around the city until the sun went down.

By the time you got home that night, the headlines were already speculating your breakup, though neither of you had yet to shed a single tear.

-

Bucky blinked as you shuffled on Steve’s doorstep, eyes wide and contemplating the quickest escape. He didn’t blame you.

He had admittedly not handled your breakup the best; in fact, he regretted it almost immediately at the stricken look on your face, clearly not expecting it. He didn’t blame you for that, either, seeing as it had slipped out in a moment of panic.

You had gained a lot of fame over the course of your relationship, even more than him, and he didn’t quite know how to cope with it. And so the words had poured out, unable to be taken back, and here you were, weeks later, still at odds.

He thought every night of how to make it up to you. Public displays weren’t your thing and you had blocked his number the night of your big fight, so that was out of the question, and he didn’t fancy showing up to your house only to have the door slammed in his face either.

But now, now maybe that you were here on the most neutral ground you could stand on, maybe he could keep his foot out of his mouth and apologize. Words stirred in his hindsight, unable to string together a coherent sentence as your face morphed through the stages of grief in record time. Then, just as he was about to speak, Steve placed a hand on his shoulder and gently guided him back into the house. Relief flooded your face as you drifted out of his sight, and he realized this probably wasn’t going to be as easy to take back as he thought.

“Buck,” Steve said as the two of them turned around the corner. “You need to leave.”

Bucky felt his face do something awful, a mixture of confusion and guilt, but he decided to keep his mouth shut. He simply nodded and kept his head down as he shrugged on his jacket and passed by you in the doorway.

He could hear the soft sound of your sobs as the front door clicked shut.

-

Songwriting could be as easy as breathing and as hard as climbing a mountain. Right now, the words flooded out of you like a tap of water.

And so did the tears, staining your notebook paper and smearing ink, but still in your heart you knew you would never forget these lyrics - these words that so painstakingly came from your soul and laid it bare.

As you finished the last verse, you took a deep breath, sucked up the tears, and called Natasha. 

-

“Steve, I need to talk to her,” Bucky whined over a beer in a rundown bar in Brooklyn.

“No, you don’t.”

“I can fix it, I know I can.”

“I don’t think you can, Buck.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving his lips. “She’s trying to move on. Don’t ruin that for her.”

“But-”

“No.”

Bucky mimicked Steve’s sigh and leaned back in his chair. It had been increasingly hard to justify his decision to end things with you. He didn’t know what he was thinking and he regretted every moment of it since then. 

“Do you think she misses me?” Bucky looked so hopeful, but he could see the sorrow in Steve’s eyes.

“I don’t know.”

-

The Grammys, the fucking Grammys, and you were performing. You were nominated for a couple, and the Academy had asked you to sing - preferably a new song - in honor of that.

Natasha wrapped you in a hug, twirled you around, and announced you were going out to celebrate. You hesitantly said yes, knowing the press would be everywhere and there was always the possibility of seeing Bucky.

But fuck him. This was your moment.

Which is how you ended up at your favorite dive bar in Brooklyn. Your first mistake.

It was your favorite because Bucky had taken you there so many times. But you couldn’t think of another place you would celebrate than the place where so much inspiration and so many lyrics had come from.

You didn’t scan the room as you walked in with your hand clutching Nat’s, the rest of your small circle of friends following close behind. Your second mistake.

Walking straight to the bar, you didn’t notice Bucky in the far corner, watching your every move. It wasn’t until you were a few drinks in, feeling the celebration kick in, that you spotted him.

At first, you intended to ignore him. This was your time, your night, your moment. He didn’t get the spoil that.

That is, until you went to the bathroom and he trailed you into the dimly lit hallway.

“Baby,” he whispered, his voice a harsh rasp of beer and no sleep. “I’ve missed you.”

Your heart stopped beating in your chest.

You weren’t prepared to see him tonight, not that you ever were these days. But tonight of all nights, the one that should have been carefree and fun and a glittery memory for years to come, was smeared with anger and heartbreak as you spun to face him.

“What the fuck,” you snapped as his fingers grazed your bare arm. Immediately you felt bad, seeing the hurt on his face, and your expression softened. “Sorry.”

“I-it’s okay.” The catch in his voice broke your heart, your own watery eyes matching his. For just a moment.

It took you too long to come to your senses - this was the man who had shattered your heart without a second thought - but he was already so close to you. His body only inches from your own, his hot breath fanning your face, and goddamnit you missed him. You missed him so much that your heart broke all over again.

Your mind cycled through a thousand different thoughts all at once: get away, come closer, touch me, keep your hands off. You couldn’t decide what you wanted in the moment.

You were so, so angry, and yet you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out to him. His hands settled on your waist as the lights overhead flickered. Your hand pressed gently to his cheek, completely of its own volition. Suddenly, you were tracing the planes of the face you had once known so well. He looked older now, like your time apart had aged him, yet his was still as handsome as the day you had first laid eyes on him.

His eyes locked with yours, and neither of you said a word - not him to ask, not you to stop him - as he leaned in to kiss you.

-

It should have felt like a victory - it did feel like a victory - but there was something else there. Something dark and twisted and Bucky couldn’t figure out if it was coming from you or him.

The kiss could have lasted moments or a lifetime, he didn’t really know. All he knew was one second you were holding him close to you and the next you were shoving him off.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” your voice came out in a whisper, like you didn’t want to draw attention from the steadily growing crowd of the bar. He supposed you didn’t.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” You nodded at his words, your fingers pressed to your lips like you could still feel him there. “I’ll just go.”

You nodded again, your eyes vacant, and he made his way back to the main room of the bar. He looked back in time to see you slump against the wall, and he knew that you were thinking of a way to erase any trace of him on you.

-

The stage lights came on, you strummed your guitar and started to sing.

The first time I tasted somebody else’s spit, I had a coughing fit.

You let the lyrics you poured your heart into spill out across the stage. Still, somehow - in the crowd of hundreds of faces - you spotted Bucky.

This time, it didn’t make your heart clench. Didn’t make you shed a tear or run away.

No. This time, it empowered you. Let him hear the lyrics he inspired. Let him feel that pain of your words and feel the hole in your heart where he had broken it. Where you were now healing.

-

Bucky watched as you sang, and you were mesmerizing. He could feel the echoes of hurt in your words, the hole in your heart he had put there. He knew, despite the last time he saw you, that there was no making up. There was no fixing what was well beyond broken. No chance for him.

In five years I hope the songs feel like covers,

Dedicated to new lovers.

#tiff writes #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #marvel #marvel fic #mcu #mcu fic #fame au #marvel fame au #song inspired #night shift #night shift lucy dacus #lucy dacus #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky x you #the winter soldier #tws

[sonnetsoncanvas]

Mess it up

Summary: Years ago he had let you go for your own good. But this time, he isn’t sure he can

Part of the Mess it up series

Pairing: brother’s best friend rock star Bucky x fem reader (Steve’s sister) (dual pov)

Warnings: modern AU, angst, second chance, eventual smut, brothers best friend trope, implied cheating, self-deprecation, happy ending?

Inspired by: Mess it up by Gracie Abrams

Notes: This is the first time a fic has made its way from my laptop to the internet. So please be kind and do leave your feedback. Happy reading! 

Chapter 1:  How could I think that all that I gave you was enough?

Bucky Pov:

Walking down the street, he heard a group of teenagers screaming his song on the top their lungs. A small smile tugged at his lips as he pulled his cap down over his silken brunette locks.

After all, if anyone recognized James Buchanan Barnes, the lead singer of the Avengers, in the middle of the farmers market…. Well that would be another headache to deal with.

A tabloid on the newsstand with his face plastered on it caught his eye. The headline, "who is the muse behind our heartbreak prince’s chartbusters. Is there a special someone in the Avengers heartthrob’s life?"

He scoffed, knowing all too well what would be written in the article. They would have papped him with yet another woman, and casted her as his girlfriend, or even fiancé.

It didn’t bother him anymore. These made up lies, these speculations, only helped in building the enigma around him, the quiet, reclusive rockstar who kept a tight leash on his personal life.

As long as they didn’t know the truth behind the inspiration for his songs, the reason why he wrote and sang songs so emotive, that they earned him the misnomer of the heartbreak prince. As long as everyone remained oblivious to his own heartache, he was unconcerned.

And oblivious they were. nobody knew. Not even his best buddy, his bandmate and flatmate, Steve. And Bucky couldn’t ever let him know too.

Because if Steven Grant Rogers ever knew that it was his childhood best friend who broke his precious little sister’s heart, he would leave the band and Bucky with it, 30 years of friendship be damned.

And so Bucky carried this secret in his heart for years, well hidden from the rest of the world, about his first and only love.

Because he could never even try to deny it. It was you, had always been you.

Even if he had to let you go, he could never bring himself to fill the void that you had left behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He carried the shopping bags into the spacious penthouse that he shared with Steve, dropping them off at the kitchen counter. “Thank you for helping me carry these bags inside punk” he sassed at the blond mass of muscle glued to the television. “Especially considering the fact that your lazy ass nagged me into going to farmer’s market early in the morning. On a Sunday. To buy mangoes. ALONE.”

“well, A. if you don’t go early all the good produce is gone. My ma told me that. B. Farmer’s market is only there for Sunday. And C. I did not come cause I was injured.” Steve pointed to a small cut on his pinkie with a cheeky smile.

“bullshit! You once went for a concert with a dislocated shoulder. Do not give me that crap. And since when did you start eating mangoes?”

“they aren’t for me.”

“you’re telling me Nat gave up whatever stupid diet she’s on?” Bucky was referring to Steve’s on again off again girlfriend Natasha Romanoff, a supermodel, whom he’d been dating since college.

“like that’s gonna happen” he chuckled, “the mangoes are for Y/N”

Bucky froze in his tracks.  It wasn’t like your name wasn’t mentioned around here. You were Steve’s sister after all , and he did keep sharing your latest achievements and tit bits from your life time and again. But that didn’t mean his heart didn’t skip a beat every time anything remotely related to you was mentioned.

“you got mangoes for Y/N ?  are you planning to visit her in Boston ?” he asked

“Yeah, about that man, I told you that she graduated top of her class at Harvard, Right?”

“yeah” Bucky said, secretly proud of you. Your convocation was a few weeks ago, he didn’t attend for obvious reasons, but Steve did, and he heard everything he had to say about it.

“So of course lil peanut got a lot of offers but it all comes down to these two jobs, one in this firm at Manhattan and other one in San Francisco. So she’s coming here to interview and then stay here for a week, cause I literally begged her to. She’d already interviewed for the San Francisco one online, but between you and me, I'm tryna get her to stay here, its been too long………”

Steve kept on rambling, but somewhere in between Bucky’s brain stopped comprehending his words. All he could think was you.

You are coming.

To New York.

To stay.

Under the same roof as him.

He will see you.

After 4 years.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He stayed in his room for the rest of the day. Reminiscing with his eyes closed. Of his life back in Brooklyn, of the happiest year of his life, of falling in love

Of the last time he saw you. tears marring your beautiful face. Pain and betrayal in your eyes. Your shoulders sagged with defeat.

“I can never stop loving you.” you’d said.

He opened his eyes with a long, suffering sigh. He has no idea how he’s going to survive seeing you again.

Because he couldn’t stop loving you either.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x reader #bucky angst #bucky fanfic #bucky headcanon #bucky x you #bucky fic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes smut #boyfriend bucky #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #steve and bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barns #bucky fluff #fanfic #avengers fandom

[svt-kailani]

00 🎬. ⠀ | HEADLINER ⠀٫⠀SEVENTEEN

?!⠀ ִ ⠀꒪ 드렘 ㅤׂ ⠀ ❄️ ﹨

🎬 : 세븐틴 𝄒 ﹙ 𝓚. ﹚

⌕ ‣     BASIC INFO ׁ⠀ ࣭ ⠀⠀⊹

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ BIRTH NAME — kwon seongmi

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ HANGUL — 권성미

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ HAWAIIAN NAME — leilani kameāloha

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ NAME MEANING —

៹٠ seong - sino korean for “star, planet, celestial body” with numerous other meanings including “anger, rage, wrath”, “saint, sacred”, etc

៹٠ mi - sino korean for “beauty, beautiful, attractive, to praise”

៹٠ kwon - sino korean for “power, authority, right, entitlement”

៹٠ leilani - hawaiian for heavenly flower, heavenly child

៹٠ kameāloha - means "the beloved one," "the affectionate one" or "the compassionate one," from definite article ka, mea, which refers to a thing, person, matter or object, and aloha meaning "love, affection, compassion."

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ NICKNAMES — mimi ❪ seventeen ❫, lani ❪ seventeen ❫, leilei ❪ seventeen ❫, dumpling ❪ grandparents ❫, stitch ❪ siblings ❫, korea’s starflower ❪ carats ❫, bratz doll ❪ carats ❫, the jade maknae ❪ carats/seventeen ❫, the cryptid of pledis/hybe ❪ carats/seventeen ❫, sharky ❪ carats ❫, daddy long legs ❪ vernon/seventeen ❫

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ BIRTHDATE — july 18, 2000

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ AGE — 23 ❪ int. ❫ 24 ❪ kor. ❫

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ ZODIAC SIGN — cancer

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ BIRTHPLACE — jeju island, south korea

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ HOMETOWN — jeju island, south korea

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ NATIONALITY — korean-american

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ ETHNICITY — ½ jejuan korean, ¼ hawaiian, ¼ māori

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ LANGUAGES —

៹٠ korean - 100%

៹٠ english - 94%

៹٠ maori - 90%

៹٠ ōlelo hawaiʻi - 98%

៹٠ mandarin - 94%

៹٠ japanese - 88%

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ HEIGHT — 174 cm ❪ 5’8.5” ❫

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ WEIGHT — 118 lbs ❪ 53.5 kg ❫

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ BLOOD TYPE — AB-

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ HAIR COLOR — raven black ❪ natural ❫ dual toned with raven black and lilac purple ❪ currently ❫

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ EYE COLOR — hazel green-brown

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ CLAIMS —

៹٠ face : unknown ❪ unknown ❫

៹٠ vocal : lee hyein ❪ new jeans ❫, aran ❪ fifty fifty ❫

៹٠ rap : chanmina ❪ soloist ❫, bibi ❪ soloist ❫

៹٠ dance : ten ❪ wayv/nct ❫

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ GENDER — female

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ PRONOUNS — she/her

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ SEXUAL ORIENTATION — queer/unlabled

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ RELATIONSHIP STATUS — in a relationship ❪ polyamory ❫

❄️ : 세븐틴 𝄒 ﹙ 𝓚. ﹚

⌕ ‣     CAREER⠀ ࣭ ⠀⠀⊹

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ STAGE NAME — kailani

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ HANGUL — 카일라니

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ COMPANY — pledis entertainment

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ TRAINEE PERIOD — 1 year 3 months

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ DEBUT AGE — 14

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ GROUP — seventeen

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ SUBUNIT — performance unit

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ POSITIONS — main dancer, lead vocalist, sub rapper, producer

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ REPRESENTATIVE EMOJI — 🌺 / 🦈

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ INDIVIDUAL FANDOM — petals

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ RANKING —

៹٠ vocal : 8/10

៹٠ rap : 7/10

៹٠ dance : 10/10

៹٠ visual ❪ korean standard ❫ : 6/10

៹٠ stage presence : 10/10

៹٠ acting : 10/10

៹٠ producing : 9/10

៹٠ songwriting : 8/10

៹٠ choreography : 8/10

៹٠ leadership : 8/10

៹٠ public speaking : 6/10

🎬 : 세븐틴 𝄒 ﹙ 𝓚. ﹚

⌕ ‣     PERSONAL ׁ⠀ ࣭ ⠀⠀⊹

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ MBTI TYPE — INTP, logician

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ DESCRIPTION — people with the INTP personality type (logicians) pride themselves on their unique perspective and vigorous intellect. they can’t help but puzzle over the mysteries of the universe – which may explain why some of the most influential philosophers and scientists of all time have been INTPs. people with this personality type tend to prefer solitude, as they can easily become immersed in their thoughts when they are left to their own devices. they are also incredibly creative and inventive, and they are not afraid to express their novel ways of thinking or to stand out from the crowd.

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ STRENGTHS — analytical, original, open-minded, curious, honest

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ WEAKNESSES — disconnected, insensitive, dissatisfied, overthinkers

❄️ : 세븐틴 𝄒 ﹙ 𝓚. ﹚

⌕ ‣     TRIVIA ׁ⠀ ࣭ ⠀⠀⊹

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ HABITS — not moving or making any sound in her sleep, clinging to the members, scrunching her nose, sitting with perfect posture, going dead silent randomly, laying her face on her hands and arms, scratching her arms and hands out of stress, making sweater paws, so much fidgeting, clicking her tongue and nails, forgetting to eat, full on shivering when it's even slightly cold, not blinking an eye at jumpscares or fireworks, shaking her hands when overstimulated, copying what others do but in tiny, never checking her messages like at all, disassociation 24/7, covering her mouth with her hand when smiling / laughing

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ PHOBIAS — arachnophobia ❪ fear of spiders ❫, thalassophobia ❪ fear of large or deep water ❫

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ MEDICAL CONDITIONS — dyscalculia, autism spectrum disorder ❪ level 1 ❫, OCD ❪ obsessive compulsive disorder ❫

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ ALLERGIES — shellfish, cow milk, beef, almonds, peaches

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ LIKES — jazz and r&b music, purple, horror movies, rain, strawberries, giving affection, reading books multiple times, soft textures, collecting rocks/plants, tote bags, loose/ baggy clothing, walking barefoot, sleeping, organizing, thunder storms, interesting bugs, autumn season, pumpkin flavors

˳ ׄ ཐིiཋྀ ⟡ DISLIKES — sitting for long periods of time, spiders, being near/around the ocean, messy rooms, not knowing schedules, body odor, cigarette smoke, people touching her items without asking

taglist! @mankidoll @chisskaa @throwawayvibin

click here to join the taglist!

#𐙚. kailani-about #14th member of seventeen #idol!addition #idol!au #idol!oc #idol!reader #kpop added member #kpop addition #kpop female addition #kpop female idol #kpop female member #seventeen female oc #seventeen added member #seventeen female addition #seventeen 14th member #seventeen female member #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #seventeen #kpop female oc #kpop female reader #seventeen x oc #poly!svt #poly!seventeen #kpop

[kmmmrs]

Being a reporter during the age of heroes was difficult, not in the sense that there were no articles to write however more in the sense there were too many articles to write! With constant villain attacks and battles not to mention reporting on the charity or social work of local heroes it was a struggle to stand out from the crowd and actually make a piece which could get published these days as well as also publish it before everyone else. Number 1 hero Deku defeated another villain? Six papers already got that story printed before you could blink, Endeavor under fire for MORE child abuse allegations? Don't even think about it, its printing as we speak! That's why you were determined to get a story nobody else would dare to report on no matter how nitty and gritty you had to get to obtain it.

That's how you found yourself tailing Dynamite, He was well known for being extremely private and hating reporters, often being 5 seconds away from exploding them and landing himself in villain ranks but that didn't stop your determination. He absolutely HAD to be hiding something and you knew it had to be good.

If you had a small voice inside your head it would probably be telling you to turn back right now after all you had just seen Dynamite destroying a class S villain like it was a small bug on the floor but something about the way he had sprinted off afterwards ignoring the medic team trying to check for injuries under his ripped uniform had peaked your interest. Perhaps he was heading to another fight? You had heard Red Riot had also quickly moved off from his own battle a few blocks over. Maybe you'd get to report first on a dual battle starring them? That was bound to at least reach headlines!

You ran off without thinking leaving your camera crew behind as you chased the small chance of potential reporter glory.

That's why when you turned the alley corner sharply your shoes skidding on the gravel from nearby exploded bricks you expected to see more destruction not hear the soft moans carrying out from further in the darkness. Was it an injured civilian? You thought back quickly to your camera crew really wishing you'd stayed with them especially if a villain had somehow managed to escape the local area however you quickly pulled out your phone and make use of the flashlight function hoping it would illuminate whatever threat was hidden as you creeped further into the darkness after all "Dynamite fails to stop villain during fight" was bound to be just as good of a story.

After finding the source of the noise you really began to regret leaving your crew because what you found was surely going to be the cause of your death.

Red-riot was leaning against the brick wall his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tilted his head back, his lips parting to reveal those famous jagged teeth of his as his neck was attacked by another mouth. You peered closer. A villain you thought? That was until your eyes caught sight of what was "attacking him" or rather WHO should you say.

That shock of blonde hair alongside the famous clash of black and green was instantly recognizable and so was how both bodies were entangled moving as if the other would slip away and fade into nothing should a tiny gap even appear between their legs.

As soon as the light of your phone landed on their faces red orbs appeared below lowered blonde eyelashes and landed on you instantly, his mouth curving up in a smirk, no fear present that they had been caught.

The same could not be said for you however but hey at least you managed to get some eye candy before passing out over the shock of it all.

#kiribaku #mha kirishima #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #bnha #bnha fanart #my hero academia #anime #yaoi

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1935 Ford pickup

The truck is all steel with the exception of the custom rear fenders. The body is very straight on this truck, not rusty or patched up. The black paint is a few years old with a chip here and there but still very presentable anywhere you go. The truck is sitting on a later model suburban chassis, a Dana 70 dual rear axle was added as well as the truck having a Dana 44 front drive axle also. The 4x4 dually theme is very noticable thanks to the aftermarket 19.5 wheels. The powerplant is an early 70's GM 402 cid Big Block. The engine has alot of grunt, backed by a 4 speed manual transmission and a NP 261 transfer case. The truck runs highway speeds over 70 mph comfortably. It is a proven driver and very roadworthy. This one has aftermarket heat and a new wiring harness also. On the inside the pickup had a new custom leather seat built for the truck to maximze space and comfort. The door panels and headliner are all built from ABS to prevent warpage. The truck has a custom molded carpet set, wipers, turn signals, horn,and the roll out windshield is still in fine working order. The speedometer and other gauges are all in working condition.

#car #cars #american muscle #ford pickup #pickup truck #pickup #ford #truck

[chxrlie-cox]

BBC Buys Irish Crime Drama ‘Kin’

The BBC has picked up Irish crime drama Kin from Fifth Season.

The RTÉ series, which aired in the U.S. on AMC+, is the latest high-profile show snapped up by the BBC buying team, following the likes of AMC’s Interview with the Vampire. It is produced by Joker financier Bron Studios and Man in the High Castle outfit Headline Pictures.

According to Fifth Season, the second season’s finale was the most-watched Irish show of this year sco far outside of sport. It has already aired in the UK on AMC streamer Sundance Now.

Earlier this year, Bron filed for bankruptcy citing the Covid-19 pandemic and dual U.S. labor strikes

via Deadline

Is this hope for some new funding after Bron's bankruptcy? Will s3 see the light of day now?

#charlie cox #kin rte #michael kinsella

[mrsavery]

The bullet

Clark Kent/Superman x Reader

REQUEST

Summary: The reader gets injured with a kryptonite bullet, and Clark has no other choice but to take it out himself before she dies.

Warnings: blood, injury, selfless Clark, happy ending.

Words: 2,1k

A/N: DUAL POV

YOU

The day had started great. You had woken up with Clark sleeping next to you, his dark hair sprawled all over the pillow. He needed a trim, and he knew it, but Clark also was too lazy to go to the hairstylist. 

He had arrived in the middle of the night, silently climbed into bed and fallen asleep. You pressed a small kiss on his cheek and left the bedroom. 

It felt great to finally be able to enjoy a hot shower. Two weeks ago an old pipe in the basement had ruptured, leaving forty flats without hot water. The emergency service was not able to fix the problem sooner because apparently, many apartment complexes had faced the same problem and all needed fixing.

Your favorite strawberry cake was on the counter, wrapped in a beautiful carbon box and tied with a yellow bow. Clark liked to spoil you with sweets from all over the world. Some mornings you would wake up with ice cream melting on the counter since he would be too eager to get to you that he would forget about it. Some morning you would see a box of Belgium chocolate or a bottle of the vine from Italy on the counter. 

No matter what he got, you were happier to see him back home in one piece, alive and breathing.

You were in the middle of eating the second piece of your cake when you got a page from work. There had been an accident and there was a shortage of personnel, and your boss had no other choice but to ask you to come in a few hours earlier.

With another kiss on his cheek, you left your shared apartment ten minutes later.

And now, three hours later, you were groaning in pain, as a bullet hit your side, making you collapse on the dirty ground.

“Fuck!” The pain was strong. For a moment your vision got dark, but soon it came back, and the pain got almost unbearable. Blood was running down your side and straining your uniform, and it took a lot for you to sit up. 

The bullet had come out of nowhere. You had not heard nor the sound of the shot, nor seen any person. Buildings had collapsed around you, making piles of concrete and metals. In the distance, the sirens of rescue service could be heard, alongside the screams of scared people of Metropolis.  

With a hand on your side, you opened your EMS bag and took out clean bandages and medical tape to close the wound before help came. Your ratio had been lost a long time ago. The phones of your collages and yours had been left back in the hospital, and there was no other way how to communicate with them.

Usually, the emergency team stayed together and did not split, including yours. Unfortunately, another building collapsed, splitting all four of you up. You all were imprisoned in your own squares with exits that led farther away from each other.

On your way out of destruction, you had seen Clark flying above and fighting villains from another dimension. He had been too busy to notice you but seeing him being thrown against the building, made your heart beat faster and worry settle in. 

Others of the justice league tried helping him, but some of them got thrown against the buildings too. This was officially the most damaging alien invasion this city has seen. Tomorrow’s news headlines would be such as ‘biggest destruction of Metropolis in its history’, ‘collapsed Metropolis’ or ‘how much money is needed to rebuild Metropolis. Not to forget ‘Superman gets thrown against the Williams building’.

“[Y/N]!” You felt Clark before his voice met your ears. You had forgotten that he was somewhere near you. “Fuck! Is this your blood?”

“I got shot.” Speaking was hard. Every word caused more pain than the previous one. When you lifted your uniform, the flow of blood ran down your side. Clark took out the bandages from your arms and pressed them onto the wound. He hissed once his fingers touched it. Then you remembered the collapsing building. “I saw the building collapsing! Are you alright?”

“I’ll live.” He gritted through his teeth. Something was wrong with Clark. He never acted like this, only when he was hurt. With your eyes, you looked over his body but found nothing.

“Are you hurt?” You lifted your arm to touch his cheek, but your limbs felt weak. When you tried again, your vision started to blur, black spots appeared in front of you. These were signs of blood loss, a big blood loss. 

You tried fighting your inner voice. It had been what - one, two minutes since you had been shot? The bullet must still be inside, as the blood only came from the front. In most cases, the bullet keeps closed the artery and prevents a person from bleeding out. 

Then why were you feeling like you would lose consciousness at any moment?

The black spots got bigger, taking most of your vision. The pain had disappeared at one moment, and slowly you started losing the feeling of your limbs. You felt him shaking your body, lifting you in the air.

You did not want to die like this. You did not want him to see you dying, since it would haunt him for the rest of his life. He was the love of your life, the man you wanted to spend your life it, but the destiny had other plan.

Before the darkness took over, you managed to whisper the words, knowing that it would be the last thing he heard from you. 

“I love you…” 

CLARK

She was dying. 

She had lost too much blood.

Her breathing had become shallower.

Her heart had started beating slower.

She was dying in my arms.

The love of my life was dying in my arms.

And there was no one to save her.

Only me. 

“What the hell are you going, Clark?” Bruce’s voice echoed through the empty operation room. I did not spare him a glance, as I continued to prepare everything for the surgery. All instruments had been found and put on the near table, y/n had been covered with a surgical drape, and I had to start any moment.

“Clark.” He put a hand on my shoulder, but I showed it off. No matter what Bruce said, my opinion he could not change. 

“Either way you stay and help or leave.” I did not need to say twice. He removed his cape and mask, put on the gloves and came to stand on the other side of the table. 

We were the only members of the Justice League on the tower. The rest of the crew were on the earth, fighting aliens that had invaded our home. All hands were needed, and that explained why every single member and inhabitant of this place had been gone. 

I did not know much about removing bullets, especially those made of kryptonite, but I had to try. I could not leave the love of my life to die in my arms without me trying anything.

“Have you ever taken out a bullet?” Bruce asked after we had started. 

I shook my head. “And you?”

He shook his head.

The bullet was made of kryptonite. I figured it out the moment, I pressed my hands over her torn skin. My head was hurting, and my whole body was hurting, but I had to save her. 

I did not care if I died saving her. She would survive and have the life we dreamed about. She would spend it alone, without me by her side. At least, her heart would be beating. She would recover from the loss. 

Unlike me. 

If I lost her, there would be no longer me. I would die with her and never recover. She was my whole universe, and there was no life without her. 

Bruce must have sensed my pain and seen it written all over my face. “Is it what I think it is?”

“It depends,” I said through the pain that got stronger the closer I got to the bullet. “On what you are thinking.”

Before he could say anything, I took out the bullet. It was big, green, perfectly shaped and made from the kryptonite. The bullet shined in the dim light, as I let it fall into the iron bowl.

It was clearly meant for me. But it had hit y/n.

Maybe they knew about her being the woman I wanted to marry and who was my biggest weakness, my whole universe.

With every minute that passed, I felt weaker, I could feel how my muscles started to give up, how my body slowly shut down. Bruce tried taking over, but I did not allow it. Bruce had taken the kryptonite bullet away and carried it as far as he could from me. Little did he know that the damage had already been done.

With my heat vision, I stopped bleeding. While Bruce tried calling others, I continued to close the wound. Sweat was rolling down my face, my body was aching, and no matter what happened - I did not give up.

Ten minutes later I closed the wound and let out the breath I was holding. I sensed Bruce running towards the room with Dr. Choi, but I was too weak to stand up. Before they could open the door, I had already collapsed on the floor and lost consciousness.

Her sleeping face was everything I saw.

YOU

Monitors were beeping around you. Your head was hurting, but the side hurt more. Everything that happened before you lost consciousness, came back like a boomerang. Clark! The building had collapsed. He had found you bleeding. His face showed that he was hurting. You were dying!

You opened your eyes and quickly sat up, causing pain in your whole body. “Easy, [Y/N].” You recognized the voice of Bruce. “Let me help you.”

“Where is Clark?” You asked as he put pillows behind your back, easing your sitting. You had to know if he was alright.

Bruce moved his head to your left, and you gasped when you saw Clark laying in a bed next to you. He was stripped down to his boxers, and lights that reflected the sun were placed around the bed. His skin was absorbing all the light. As a result of that, his skin shined.

“Oh my god, Clark! What happened to him?” You tried getting out of bed, but Bruce’s strong hands on your shoulders did not allow it. He pushed you back in the bed, making your back hit the pillows.

“Do not try getting out unless you want me to chain you to this bed.”

“You would never.”

“I would. Clark will never forgive me if something happened to you.” 

“What happened to him?” The man you loved slept a few feet away from you, at an arm's stretch length, but you could not get to him. You wanted to touch his body, whisper that you were near and wait until he opened his eyes. Clark was near you, yet so far away.

Bruce handed you a glass of water and made you take a few sips. “He removed your bullet. It was made of kryptonite.” 

Kryptonite could kill Clark, yet he risked his life to save yours. “Is he going to be alright?” 

“Both of you will be. I will go and get Dr. Choi. Do not try getting out of bed.” 

“I will make sure she stays in hers.” You moved your head as fast, as the first syllables had left this mouth. His blue eyes found yours, and you tried your best to keep the tears from falling. He was awake.

“This also applies to you, Clark.”

He nodded, and then Bruce left the room, leaving the two of you alone.

His eyes never left yours. “How are you?”

“How are you? You could have died!” You almost shouted.

“So could you.” 

“But I did not.”

“Neither did I.” 

The small banter made both of you smile. Clark and you were two stubborn souls who always cared more about the other one rather than yourselves.

But the truth was still truth. “You are an idiot. Why did you take that bullet out yourself?”

Clark rolled his eyes and sat up. “There was no other who could do it. I did not want to lose you.”

“Dr. Choi would have saved me.” 

“Not fast enough. He was not here when we arrived.” Clark stood up from his bed and walked towards you. “Move over.”

“You shouldn’t be out of bed.” You reminded him, as you moved in the bed, making a room for the big man you called yours. Your body felt small, compared to his. 

Clark wrapped his strong arms around your body carefully, trying not to cause more pain, tore your stitches or pull off the catheter in your arm. “I am not. I just changed it.”

“I love you.” He pressed a kiss on your head and snuggled closer to your body. Feeling his heart beating under your palms calmed you, and you closed your eyes knowing that he was alive and safe.

“I love you too. But, please, do not do it again."

#clark kent x reader #superman x reader #clark kent #superman #clark kent fanfiction #superman fanfiction #henry cavill superman #henry cavill #henry cavill au #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill imagine #justice league #superman x you #clark kent x you #clark kent x y/n #superman x y/n #henry cavill x y/n