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slyvieselkie · 4 months

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Regret IV

A pair of green eyes sharpened on the dainty woman dining at the table, elegant like any other lady of high society. It made her scoff, it was exactly everything Bruce Wayne hated. So she had to wonder, why the hell did he decide to propose to you?

It all began a month ago when she came across the Dark Knight himself after committing a heist. They stood on the rooftop, metres away from each other and in silence, until the woman dropped her bag of money and slowly strutted towards him. She had wondered where he had been for almost two months, but here he was back to play their little mind games.

"So Mr Vigilante, where have you been these days~? Did you miss me~?", she stopped when their chests were touching and fluttered her lashes.

Like usual the stern man stepped back and frowned, "I've come here to tell you...that I'm engaged. This game of ours, its over Selina."

Well that was unexpected. Silence fell in between them and the man awaited for a sassy quip, but it never came because she honestly didn't know what to say. After a few minutes, the Dark Knight realised silence was her answer and turned around to walk off. Staring at his back, Selina knew she had to say something otherwise she would regret it.

"W-Wait!", she swore at how her voice cracked and sighed as his head turned back, "This can't be the end, I mean...I thought we had something?", and so did the rest of Gotham.

It wasn't Gotham news if there wasn't page about a rendezvous between the rivals, their bodies pressed together and glowing in the moonlight. The tension rising in the air before one of them would pull away, most of the time Selina pulling away and smirking at how his hands would attempt to chase after her but quickly stop to control himself. She was certain that at some point, this game of theirs would become something more and real. Yet here they were, Batman pulling away this time and for good.

He only blinked blankly and she clenched her fists, "Who is she?", the vigilante's eyes narrowed, "Why do you need to know that?", Catwoman scoffed, "Don't you think I deserve to know after everything we've been through?"

Batman was silent for a moment before responding in an unbelievably soft tone, "Maybe, if you want to know I'm sure you could find that out yourself. I'm only here to tell we're done, goodbye Selina", and with that he was jumping off the roof.

She stood there for the rest of the night, still comprehending what the hell had just happened. It must've been a joke she thought, he'll come back the next night teasing her about her reactions.

But the truth was solidified the next day when the only thing Gotham could talk about was Bruce Wayne and you, the heiress to the Astor empire. The two of you stood in front of Bruce's company, holding hands, and answering some questions. She couldn't help but notice how his eyes kept shifting over to you, and how you kept pinching his hand as a warning sign to behave. That night, you and the Wayne Family hosted a luxurious event to celebrate the happy news. The media was up in roars hearing Richard Grayson call you 'Mother' and you trying your best to maintain your elegance, wishing the boy to suffer a cruel death.

The Catwoman could only lie in her bed and feel regret, she should've done something before Bruce could walk away. But it was also his fault, he was accepting all of her advances and making her feel confident that he would be the one to do something about it. What a fool she was, 'Brucie' was just messing around with her disguised as Batman.

Now here she was, a month later, doing exactly what Bruce said she would. Sneaking her way into the exclusive cafe to find the rich girl Bruce decided to marry out of nowhere. And after watching you for a few minutes from behind a marble pillar, Selina was disappointed and pissed off. Sure you were pretty, rich, and elegant, but Selina was sexy and so much more compatible with him. How could you possibly relate with Bruce and understand the complexity of that man. You were just any other daddy's girl, pulling out her family's black card to spend it carelessly. She was-

"Excuse me ma'am, could I possibly see your membership card?", she swore and turned around to see a giant bodyguard with a threatening smile, 'Fucking hell.'

Selina was prepared to bolt when she noticed more appear and one even closed the mahogany wooden doors, "Uh-well I", the thing she wanted to do was cause a scene in front of this rich girl and be sneered upon, "You see-", "She's my friend, and she was just leaving."

Her shoulders slumped and the bodyguards tensed up, "Miss Astor, this woman-", you raised an eyebrow and the suited men immediately parted allowing Selina to dash off.

She didn't even attempt to look back knowing the looks of scorn she would receive, how humiliating to think that this was the type of woman Bruce would wed. And Selina was a petty woman, so she knew the best way to get revenge on these arrogant old money families.

Underneath the moonlight, Selina arrived at your luxury jewellery factory prepared to suck up all of your precious gems and share them with people who actually needed it. As she passed through the security systems, she still couldn't believe that you were the one that Bruce wanted. Why? Bruce Wayne, Batman, was a man of the people. How on earth could he love a greedy money hoarding woman?

Walking through the empty white hallways, she kicked down the first door and her eyes gleamed seeing the sparkling necklaces that were definitely about to be placed on the markets. Well not anymore, the Astor Family is going down. Then Selina quickly dodged a batarang and rolled deeper into the room.

Scowling she jumped up knowing who it was, "Bru-", "What are you doing here?", the darkness growled back at her and despite not being able to see his face, she knew Bruce was furious.

"I-", "First I hear of you stalking my wife and now you're here to steal from her business?", she was stunned at how he was already referring you as 'wife', "Get out", the man didn't allow her to say a word, "You're lucky that my wife had asked for you to not be charged for trespassing and attempted robbery."

Her teeth gritted, you asked? For Batman to spare her? Oh she was not having it, "You'll have to tell her to fuck off for me-", and in seconds he was looming over her leaning in to hiss, "Watch your mouth, I don't tolerate disrespect towards her."

And before she could blink, Catwoman was being thrown out onto the dirt ground as Batman vanished into the night, probably back to his not-yet-wife.

Unknown to her, you were watching from the comfort of the Astor Manor on your tablet, "Huh", you blinked somehow feeling disappointed, 'I expected her to be a bit better.'

There was a whoosh and you sighed, "Good evening, you entered the wrong manor", unfazed by the shadow covering you entirely.

"Come on, show your exhausted husband some love", Bruce Wayne stripped down to his boxers before enveloping your figure and you scowled as the sweaty man nuzzled to inhale your floral scent, "You dirty man! Go and take a bath before even thinking of touching me!"

Bruce smirked before pushing onto his arms and knees to hover over you, his eyes shone with mischief and the man leaned down until your noses were touching, "You better keep your word", and rushed off to the bathroom dodging a pillow.

You huffed and left the bed to retrieve your pillow before noticing the Batman suit laying on the floor. Silently, you draped it over the armchair and ran your hands down the Kevlar threads. This was the suit he had worn to meet Catwoman many times, allowing Catwoman to drape herself over this thin material, potentially taking it off to enter her bed, and now using it as a suit to defend you from the very same woman. The progression had you giggling and humming, 'I wonder...how far could I take this?'

Then your nightgown was soaking up the water droplets as Bruce pressed himself against you from behind, arms snaking around your figure, "What are you so happy about?", "...Nothing you should worry about", and then Bruce was dragging you off to bed.

The black haired man pulled you into his lap and began exploring your body with his lips ands hands.

As he sucked a hickey on your neck you remembered something and spoke out, "Oh I forgot to mention, my friend is having a function for-", "Okay", he mumbled into your skin and you scowled tugging his hair, "I didn't finish-", he pecked your lips before biting the bottom lip softly, "Whatever you want, sweetheart."

And then you were being back onto the bed, "As long as you play nice tonight."

In a week, the Wayne-Astor family were preparing to leave for the function. Your eyes scanned the Waynes from oldest to youngest: Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Cassandra, and Damian. And of course just like their father, they were all a mess apart from Cass and Damian. Reaching out, you fixed Dick's tie before patting his shoulders satisfied.

The eldest grinned, "Thank you Mother", everyone apart from him and Bruce almost barfed, "You be quiet before I freeze your bank account", you scowled grabbing his ear, "Oww~! No, how am I gonna pay for gas then~?"

After that you went to neaten Jason's hair when he grumbled smacking your hand, "I can do it myself woman", you gave a dry laugh rolling your eyes, "I've heard that one before and it sure didn't work out well", "Hey I'm trying my best!", but the Red Hood stood still and leaned down so you could comb through it.

Moving down the line, you sighed at Tim Drake and the oversized suit to the dark circles under his eyes, "Oh Mr Drake-", "I know I know, I'm trying to work on it!", he pouted doing his darnest to look cute despite the disgusted stares being thrown his way, "...Decaf for the next week", "No!", he screeched and Dick cackled.

Upon seeing Cassandra in the yellow gown you had chosen for her, you smiled softly and pecked her forehead, "You look gorgeous darling", she melted under your touch before beaming, "Thanks."

And lastly, Damian Wayne who straightened his posture and stared forward sternly. He was an exact clone of Bruce, but more adorable and less annoying. The little boy even sent you a gorgeous painting of you two the day your engagement was announced, there was also a small pouch from his mother. You were speechless to read that Talia al Ghul had sent you a tea for 'sexy time', what on earth have you gotten into?

"Well done, Damian. You look very charming as always", you caressed his cheek and he nodded proudly, "Of course, I always strive to do my best", Jason muttered, "Demon brat", and received a snarl.

Clapping your hands, you smiled, "Alright, off we head", and the siblings walked off instantly bickering and chattering, creating chaos like usual.

Your small smile dropped hearing Bruce clear his throat, rolling your eyes you spun around and pulled on his tie. The man grinned as your lips smashed together, tempted to just run off and make Dick in charge of them. All you could think about was how ever since meeting Bruce, you've started wearing less lipstick and favoured lighter coloured glosses.

After an eventful ride in the limousine, consisting of Bruce being bullied, the seven of you were walking into the ballroom unfazed at the flashing lights around you. At the entrance, you greeted your friend leaning in to peck her cheek and congratulate her. Bruce did the same with his signature 'playboy' smile and smirked at how you scoffed. Entering the room, he glanced back at his children who perked up, 'Shoo', and they were gone like the wind.

Of course Selina had been watching all of this, sneaking in as a waitress to see if Bruce truly enjoyed being with you or whether he was on a mission and needed you. But after seeing, not only the way Bruce held your waist for the whole night, but how he clung to you every time you tried to move away...she knew it was the former. Hands tightening into a fist, the woman knew she had to give up now. However, she just had one thing to say to you and Selina found it when she spotted you walking off to the ladies room.

The anti-hero stealthily followed you inside when she heard a slap followed by a shriek, "How dare you hit me?!", and blinked before poking her head around the corner.

Despite being smaller than the other woman, your aura completely dominated the room as you pushed your pointer finger in her face and hissed, "If I hear you say Richard's name one more time in that disgusting voice, you'll be six feet under the ground", "Y-You wouldn't!", you sneered, "Why wouldn't I? Someone like you wouldn't cost much to kill. A bankrupt family about to be thrown out on the street, a couple of hundreds and you're dead by sunrise."

Selina subconsciously shivered at the cruelty in your tone and words, "Now fuck off, to another state would be preferable", and the woman rushed off almost crashing into Catwoman.

Green eyes watched as you remained in the bathroom, staring at yourself in the reflection with complex emotions. And suddenly, you weren't the dainty and elegant lady that used her family's money all day long. There was history in the way you tried your best to remain calm, history in your threatening posture and harsh breathing. The realisation caused her to flee, because now you weren't just a stereotype anymore. Why was she so shaken up by this? The woman was so shaken up, she bumped into someone and would've fallen if it wasn't for their tight grip.

"M-My apologies!", "Selina?", a familiar voice responded and she looked up into the blue eyes of Bruce Wayne.

He frowned, "What are you doing here?", she didn't know what to say and the two of them just stared at each other, "Is no one going to say anything?", their heads snapped to you who just observed them blankly, "I can leave if you two need the privacy."

As you walked off, Bruce immediately chased after you calling out your name and tried to plead his case, "Look, she just bumped into me-", "There is no need for you to explain anything", his eyes widened seeing the way you smiled so casually, "I don't care about what kind of relationship you have with her, just be aware of your surroundings."

Bruce Wayne has never felt so humiliated and insulted, "What do you mean by that?", his teeth grounded and you raised an eyebrow, "Exactly what I said", and you did not stop walking despite noticing how he had froze, "I'd like to return at 9 so please remember that. I'll be in the gardens."

The car ride home was tense and the Wayne children kept glancing between the two of you, confused why Bruce was so glum and you were just normal. The limousine stopped at the Wayne Manor and only the children got off, Bruce said he would bring you home and round back. They couldn't be more relieved to finally get out of the uncomfortable atmosphere, and immediately spilt everything to Alfred who just shook his head and sighed.

Back in the car, Bruce was finding a way to continue the conversation but he didn't expect you to do it, "You seem to have a problem with me", you state plainly looking out the window and he sighed leaning his head back, "Why did you say that? Why didn't you let me explain? Why don't you care?"

You turn and met his storming blue eyes, "...What is there to care about?", Bruce couldn't believe what he was hearing, "Are we not getting married? How can you be fine with me having an affair?", you gave him a smile that only made him more frustrated, "Have a goodnight Bruce."

He remained in the car wondering what the hell had just happened, and you were truly a special person. You brought out a playful version of Bruce that he thought he had lost, and now you're bringing out a pettiness he didn't he had. You didn't care? He'll make you care, one way or another.

Selina was confused by the aggressive advancement of Bruce these past few days. He was flirtatious, leaving lingering touches on her body, and uncaring of how they were being photographed and filmed. Batman and Catwoman were back in Gothamn's headlines, and she should be happy. They were back to how things were before this whole mess, but Selina just didn't feel happy. There was a churning feeling in her stomach when Bruce encouraged her to leave lipstick stains, marks, and scents on his suit and body. What the hell were they doing? Her mind kept wandering back to the woman in the bathroom staring at herself.

It had been a week since Bruce had become petty, and after another suggestive night with Catwoman, he was ready to see your reaction. So the man swung into your bedroom and removed his cowl, feeling a nostalgia, yet he didn't find you anywhere. The only other option was your office and walking down the hallway, the man immediately heard your stern voice talking to someone. He thought about knocking but shrugged and decided to let himself in.

Your eyes sharpened at him for entering and interrupting, but you still hung up anyways, "Bruce Wayne, why did you come-", silence fell as you saw the marks around his jawline and neck.

Bruce did his best to hide the smirk. That's it, regret it and take back everything, start caring about the man that you'll wed in a few months, "That's what you came here for?", you huffed and clicked your tongue, "What would you like me to say, congratulations? That was an important phone call-"

He cancelled out the rest of your rambling, because the man had you right where he wanted. Your eyes kept shifting down to his markings and hardening, like a jealous woman. At some point, he flashed across the room and smashed his lips onto yours. You squealed into the kiss but Bruce wasn't letting go. Then before he knew it, he was getting out of the shower admiring the marks that led him to success. Bruce walked out with just a towel barely hanging around his hips and bathed in the way your eyes narrowed.

An unexpected purr left his chest as he pulled you onto his lap and began placing kisses against your collarbone, "You surely don't expect me to bed a dirty man like you", Bruce hummed, "Didn't you give me permission though? Put up with it, or do something about it."

Bruce was disappointed when you chose the former, but he still felt like it was a win considering the things it did to you. Clearly he was on the right track and he knew the time would come when you would admit defeat. It was a push and pull, sometimes he got exactly what he wanted and other times he was just allowed to shower before getting kicked out. It was tiring, but the successes made everything worth it.

On the other hand, Selina felt like she was losing despite the way she preened under Batman's attention. She felt dizzy every time they met under the moonlight, the two of them connecting more with each rendezvous. But you were always in the back of her mind, she wondered how you were feeling. Were you actually okay with this, or were you just pretending to be unfazed by everything? She had to know.

So Selina was back to stalking you again, this time in a department store which was much easier to sneak into and pretend to be a staff member. Slowly she was getting closer, pretending to clean items and reorder them. Just a few metres, and she'll get everything she wanted from you.

"Ask", you stated plainly looking at a pair of shoes costing way too much money, "What?", she turned to you and watch as you hand them to a staff member, "Selina Kyle, you seem to have a hobby of watching me. Obsessed much?", blushing red the catwoman was unable to find her funny bone and make a comeback.

She ended up following you around as you shop, "What did you approach me for?", she hesitated before asking, "Our relationship...are you really okay with it?", trying on another pair of heels you smiled in the mirror, "Why? Are you feeling guilty now? Doing such foul things with a man about marry?"

The woman scowled, "Y-You said it was okay! Plus...he made the moves", your eyes glanced over at her before you smirk, "I can tell you, one of the reasons at least, but are you sure you want to hear it?", there was a moment before she nodded prepared to hear whatever it was.

"Why should I stop my husband from doing some charity work?", Selina's blood went cold, "....What did you just say?", and you turned to her blankly, "I mean, the only time you're acting as Catwoman is to meet my husband. If my husband playing with a girl helps her stop committing crimes, isn't that better for all of us?"

She was shaking, trembling in fury and you smiled, "Besides, what is there to care about? A little kiss and a few marks? You weren't the first and you aren't the last. You're not a mistress or a side chick. Talia al Ghul at least gave him a child, Superwoman is a respected teammate, and Bruce will always be at my beck and call-", "You fucking bitch!"

Before she could even do anything, there was a man weighing a tonne pinning her to the ground, "Y-You...", she could only see the sharp heels you wore polished enough to reflect her position, "I hope you got the answer you were looking, have a good day."

And you were walking away like the heiress you were.

Selina was fuming, any hesitance she had about their affair vanished. She'll send Bruce home with more than a little kiss and some marks. So when Batman landed on the rooftop in front of her, Catwoman made the first move and molded their bodies together. She leaned up, staring into his bright blue eyes. You'll regret it, she smirked slowly inching to his lips.

Then there was a voice coming from Bruce's comm, "B, your wife wants to talk to you", and in an instant Selina was being pushed away as the man's eyes sparkled at this new development.

This was the first time you've reach out to him, his heart thumped loudly in his chest as he imagined the possibilities, "B?", "Y-Yeah, send her across", he whispered breathless unaware of the burning rage growing inside the woman in front of him.

"Bruce?", "Yes sweetheart", he smiled lovingly when he heard your mellow voice, "I was just informing you that-", "Wait, why don't we talk about this at home. It'll be better face to face, I'll be there soon", "...Okay, come safely", "Of course."

Ending the call, he smiled at her like a boy in his first romance, "Sorry, my wife called", and that was all he said before walking off.

She gulped continuing to hear your shameful words. She wasn't just charity work. She might not have a child, and she's not a respected hero, but Selina still had a special connection with Bruce. They've gone through so much together, she surely meant something to him. So just before he could jump off, she lunged at him and clung to his back.

"D-Don't go, stay with me", the woman whispered as her green eyes shone in the moonlight familiar to them, "Come to my place", there was silence before Bruce spun around and smiled down at her softly, "I'm sorry, but she's my wife. I have to go, I'll see you another night."

And Selina was abandoned on the rooftop, the nosy photographers in the darkness wondering why Batman had left her. He was completely at your beck and call.

You were in the office watching everything from the laptop staring at green pools, "Come on, you're Catwoman aren't you? Surely that wasn't your limit", you whispered before shutting everything down, "Show me something more entertaining."

A few seconds later, Bruce was barging into your office and panted staring down at you, "Ah you're here, I just wanted to inform you that my aunt had invited me to visit her in the Netherlands. I'll be leaving in two weeks", he smiled softly, "That's exciting, I hope you have a lot of fun there."

You crossed your arms staring down at the laptop, "What, you aren't going to come with me?", his eyes widened and the man stuttered, "U-Uh I well-umm-it's just-", "No...or yes", the two of you stared at each other before Bruce slowly approached you stopping on the other side of your desk, "I'll go anywhere with you."

Somehow, you felt the urge to spin in your chair and went around and around when everything suddenly stopped, Bruce was hovering over you leaning his hands on the arm rests, "Have you finished testing me?", your lips pursed, "It wasn't a test", "Then have you finished playing around?"

There was a small huff, "Did you do anything?", he smirked before stripping off his suit to show untainted skin, "Would you like to come closer and check?"

Dainty fingers reached out and ghosted the ripples of his abs, "No, it is clear that...that you don't need a shower", Bruce felt like he was a virgin again, embarrassed at the way his heart and nether region reacted from those simple words, "Are you sure?", "Yeah, carry me to bed", your wish was his command.

Wide green eyes watched as the nightgown was torn to shreds and exiled to the floor. Piercing blue eyes raking over your figure like it was the first time he's seen someone so gorgeous and enchanting. His hands touched you with unbelievable gentleness, like you were made from priceless porcelain. He laid a variety of kisses, some full of lust and others marshmallow soft, smiling like you had hung the stars for him. Bruce's voice was dripping with honey, the way he praised and thanked you for just letting him in was something Selina had never seen. Had never experienced.

Her eyes transferred from Bruce to you, and Catwoman almost fell from her position against the window. You were staring right at her, unfazed, because you led her here. From when had your games begin? When did she start being the jester in your court? And what role does Bruce play? Was he your queen, another jester? Your eyes felt like a black hole swallowing her ability to process and think. For the first time in an incredibly long time, Selina was terrified.

Suddenly, you let out a soft whimper at a burst of pain and weakly glared at the man who smothered you with an aggressive kiss, "Look at me, I'm the one in your bed, I'm your husband, you chose me."

You sigh before whispering in his ear, "Then take me somewhere more private, there's over twenty rooms in this house. It's up to you how many we use and which ones she can spy through", Bruce groaned before picking you up and walking out, "What about the hallways?", "Are you going to clean it up?", "Hell yeah."

Turning around to close the door, the pairs of blue and green met each other. One threatening the other to stay away, and the other gleaming before they fell onto your naked figure. All of them were so goddam twisted, because Selina reached out to lick her lips. Don't worry, you'll be seeing much more of her soon. You're going to regret pushing her to this point because she was planning a new type of revenge.

Hi Lovelies, how you going? Hope everything's all good and well.

This was honestly such a bizarre writing experience for me because it was just a word spew from an inspiration I had that wouldn't leave my mind. I really don't how to feel about this one, I absolutely hate it because I find it really messy but there's a part of me that loves it so much. There's something about the reader that I found so shocking, like how did I come up with this type of person. I don't know how well I portrayed Batman and Catwoman, or whether the reader insert was good, but I hope you enjoyed.

Of course feedback and critics are welcome, see you another day 💕

#reader insert #romance #batman #bruce wayne #catwoman #dc universe #bruce wayne x reader #not proofread #long reads

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galaxiasus-a · 2 years

Note

“i wish you’d come to the funeral.” max @ travis

CONTINUE > LOAD FILE // what meme was this

File Name: @rotshope

The distinguishable noise of an angry slam echoes loudly through the empty church, Travis having set a chair down at the corner of the building. It was bad enough as it is. Having the poor girl's name be mentioned in tones filled with scorn and disbelief. Having his own father declare that this awful act was deemed worthy of having a placement in Hell to make her pay for the sin she had committed. Somewhere so out of place for her to end up in. Someone as pure as the angels that should have protected her up until her final moments that for some reason never gave her that grace. Being unable to defend her was what he thought was going to be the worst part, being forced to sit there and listen to the venomous comments that were disguised by prayers.

And then Max walked in. Lingering after everyone had already left for the morning and he was left alone to clean up. The living reminder of the incident that took Kate away. He had half a mind to yell at her to leave, but he simply did not have the energy. Which was rare for a person like him, and what must have made Max think to have the audacity to open that mouth of hers.

Now he leans on the chair, hands clutching the back of it as he searches his mind for anything to respond with. Whether or not it was worth answering at all. And if it would have been a lot easier to tell her to leave. When he finally turned around to look at her, there was a glare of pure hatred and disgust in his eyes. Staring directly at the one thing that has caused nothing but pain. A person who he feels is as nearly as awful as his father himself. “For what? So I can hear the rest of town either spit in her open casket and call her a whore that deserved it? Or to hear the rest of the two faced fucks lie and say they are going to miss her? Watch them sob crocodile tears and hear ‘Ohhh I wish I knew her better!’, ‘Wow she was so nice!’, ‘Oh man I wish I could have known I would have helped.’, when you know damn well that they didn’t give a single shit about her when she was actually alive?” He moves away from her as he speaks, not wanting to stare at her any longer as he does so. He goes and gets another chair to pick up, vaguely waving a hand a few times as he mocks the students of Blackwell. This time when he stacks the chair on top of another he pretty much throws it when he gets close enough, hearing a loud noise emit once more when the chair carelessly, but still lands, on top of another.

"No thanks. I'm not disgracing her by being a part of it." His real answer as to coming to her funeral is that he wishes that he could. And a part of him wanted to so that he could pay his final respects to one of two people that had legitimately cared about him. But he was unable to. A woman who committed acts of treachery and sin should have no place anywhere near him, and he'd be damned by the church if he were caught even a step inside the graveyard where the ceremony would be commencing. He will visit her grave and pray for her soul to drift into the place she truly deserved to be in, but Max won’t be hearing that from him. Max was not the person he needed to explain himself to, nor the person that deserved to hear any of that.

"A funeral.. A fucking funeral. What a fucking joke." He repeats the process, striding across the room to get another chair, his sarcastic tone from earlier being lost as a rough exterior crawls out. "The girl fucking killed herself. Now there's going to be a funeral and it's going to be surrounded by people that only know her name from that stupid damn video. You've got any damn idea what this means? What her family thinks? I don't even think her own fucking mother is going to show up." He once more tosses the chair onto the pile, but this time it doesn't make the landing, instead the legs hitting against the chairs and crashing onto the floor.

"No. Of course you don't. Because you weren't there for her. You don't have any goddamn clue about any of the shit of how she felt, or what her family is going through, or what this entire process works." He ignores the chairs now, whipping around so he could face her once more. "Don't be cheeky, bitch. Don't walk in here and speak to me as if I am shit incarnate because I'm not going to show up to the funeral. How fat of an ego must you have to think I give a single shit about what you wish? That's all you do. Walk in with your pretty little whore face and bat your eyes and expect people to follow your every word and give you what you want. Completely ignore the actual good people who are suffering and letting them deal with the bullshit themselves. In all honesty I could fix more problems than you could ever bother trying by killing you on this very spot. But if Kate is actually in hell because of what she did I don’t have it to burden her more by sending you to meet her."

He watches her lips move in a mumble, catching what he could only hear being an apology, causing him to lurch forward and forcibly grab her by the wrists, using his hold on her to lean her forward and then shoving her entire weight backwards, letting her go so she could fall down to the ground. "You're sorry? Now you're sorry? When she's not here to hear it, when she's already dead?!" It was good that she had half a mind to immediately start getting up and back away. Otherwise he would have taken a swing at her. He follows after her, his hands curling into fists at his side.

"What do you think that is going to fix Caulfield? Because it sure as hell isn't going to bring her back. Where the fuck WERE you? Where were you when she needed you most? What the fuck did you fucking say to her on that rooftop that made her lose any remaining hope that she had? Why did you make her think that doing this was the right fucking thing to do? You're no goddamn better than the rest of them that sent her up there in the first place!" He catches up to her, but with fists still balled he hits her against her chest and continues to shove her back. Forcing her to back away and in literal terms stumble her way out of the church building. Voice raising with certain words that he spits out with venom. Underneath all the hatred that he feels towards her, towards the school, the rest of the community, there is a string of grief that lurks. Grief that could only be spotted by two specific individuals. One of which is lifeless in the morgue that he often fears won't be rescued from.

Once Max was fully outside, Travis himself stands at the doorway, holding onto the edges as he continues to stare directly at her. "It should have been you, you know. It should have been you that went through everything she had to go through, so you would have actually understood her." An incredibly harsh comment indeed, considering everything, but the way his knuckles turned white as he clings onto the wood was on the list of ways that showed he was not going to take it back. "Because even if you failed her, she would have been there for you. Even if this shitty place wouldn't have lost something if you had slit your throat like it did when it lost Kate."

He straightens up, letting go as he reaches for the door. "Now get out of my damn sight. And don't even think about stepping foot on this property again. We don't accept demons here." With that he turns and slams the door, the frame shuddering slightly from the impact.

He still had cleaning to do and this was not something to get hung up on for the moment.

#suicide mention /#was this what u were hoping for #im in pain thanks for this KJDSNKJFNSDKJFSD #angry travis. clutches fist. travis angry bc hes sad. starts crying #i literally cant answer asks normally i dont know whats wrong with me but at least it brings more content #an eye for an eye #[ * TRAVIS. ↳ do you feel like a young god? ]#SIGHS #rotshope

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helloalycia · 3 years

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The Wrong Lifetime – Six // Wanda Maximoff

chapter five | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter seven

author’s note: i’m glad you all seemed to like the last chapter! i’m all for slow burn but i didn’t want to leave you hanging too long aha. Now onto dating territory!

Since going to Blackpool with Wanda, we hadn't actually gotten another moment to ourselves. Wedding plans were picking up which kept her busy, and if not that, then I'd only see her in passing in which we'd exchange smiles before moving on.

So, I though it would be good to take her out on a date. A proper one, even if it was to be disguised as a simple outing between soon-to-be sister-in-laws. The plan was to 'bump' into her in town, which we did, then I asked her if she wanted to go to the art gallery. She'd been before, but they'd put in a new exhibition which I thought she might like.

We couldn't exactly hold hands when there, but I made the most of her presence and stood a little too close to her than a friend might. Since she'd kissed me at the beach, I wasn't able to think about anything else. And when shot me a knowing smile, I knew she felt the same.

"I like this one," I told her, pointing to a piece hung on the wall, before squinting to read the plaque. "Jedburgh Abbey from the River by Thomas Girtin."

"And why's that?" she asked, watching me with humoured eyes.

I pursed my lips, glancing between her and the painting sheepishly. "I'm not gonna lie, I just like the way the guy painted the clouds in the sky."

She stifled laughter, not wanting to draw attention from passers-by, and nudged me in the shoulder. "You're unbelievable, milaya (darling). We didn't have to come here if you don't like art."

I gave her a knowing look. "Hey, I love art. Especially when it's by a certain Sokovian artist named Wanda Maximoff."

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. I grinned at her bashfulness, wanting to tease her but also very true with my words. Her work was my favourite, biased or not, and I still had that amazing portrait she'd done of me in my room back home. It was tucked into one of my drawers where nobody would find it. I didn't want anyone else to look at it since she'd done it for me and it was private... it was a beautiful reminder of the amazing day we'd had.

"You're poking fun, but in all seriousness, I'd actually love for my work to be up here someday," she said softly, looking at the painting before us with hopeful eyes.

"They wish they were that lucky to score someone as talented as you," I said without skipping a beat.

She cracked a smile, tilting her head in my direction. It was obvious she was losing her patience with me, but I enjoyed watching her lose it. She didn't know what to say, especially when being complimented, and it was endearing to witness.

We remained civil for the remainder of the 'date', refraining from holding hands or gazing at each other longer than friends would, and I was pretty proud of myself for not thinking about kissing her once when we were done.

As we got into the carriage to go back home, the door closed and I was going to ask her how she found it when she moved towards me in an instant, kissing me without question. I raised my hand, caressing her jaw and closing my eyes as she leaned forward, practically on my lap, not that I cared. She sucked on my bottom lip sensually before she opened her mouth, pushing her tongue into mine. I almost forgot how to breathe as she did, unprepared for such an intense kiss.

"I've been wanting to do that all day," she revealed when she pulled away.

I flushed at the contact, a dazed smile on my lips. "Huh."

She chuckled as she sat back beside me more 'appropriately'. "Thanks for taking me. I loved it."

I nodded lamely, still trying to recover from our kiss. "I'm– I'm glad."

She smirked playfully, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to my lips before sitting back. "You're so cute."

My words still hadn't returned, so all I could do was nod before looking the other way. Her laughter filled the carriage and I wondered how I'd gotten so lucky to be in the presence of someone so perfect.

After exchanging some more kisses and actually being able to hold hands without prying eyes, we reached Wanda's home and she invited me in for some tea. Sadly, that meant we had to let go of one another, but I think she'd given me enough to remember her by as we parted, and she must have thought the same, judging from the smirk she sent my way.

We sat on the patio outside to have some tea and biscuits, enjoying the sunshine and blue skies, a rare occurrence for England. We were chatting mindlessly when her brother decided to make an appearance, helping himself to a seat between Wanda and I.

"How lovely of you to grace us with your presence, Miss Y/L/N," he said playfully, shooting me a charming smile, before reaching to grab a biscuit. Wanda slapped his hand but he stole one anyway, making her roll her eyes.

"Nice to see you, Pietro," I greeted with amusement, always enjoying his presence.

"And you," he returned, before chowing down his biscuit.

Wanda gave me a fed up look over his shoulder which he was oblivious to, and I tried not to laugh as she clearly wasn't a fan of him interrupting our time.

"So, I caught a glimpse of the wedding invitations," Pietro said, making conversation. He glanced between us with a nod of approval. "They're coming along well."

I hummed in agreement, smile becoming less real when he mentioned the wedding. Wanda didn't acknowledge his words as she fiddled with the handle of her teacup.

"Is your brother behaving, Y/N?" Pietro continued jokingly, looking to me. "I know how many admirers he has, but my sister should be his first priority."

"Oh, Piet...," Wanda breathed out with embarrassment, facepalming.

"Of course he is," I assured her brother with a small smile. "He wouldn't dare try hurting Wanda or he'd have a lot of explaining to do."

There was some playfulness in my voice, but an underlying truth to my words.

"It's sweet how close you've gotten," Pietro noticed, looking between us, before settling his gaze on me. "It's about time Wanda made friends with people who aren't me."

Cue another slap. I chuckled at her sheepish expression, amused by Pietro's antics.

"Anyway," he changed the subject for his sister's sake, "mother has been getting on my very nerve about finding a bride because you decided to get married."

Wanda rolled her eyes. "We both know I didn't decide, Piet."

He sighed over-dramatically. "Well, it's because of your engagement that she's now on my back about it."

"Join the club," I joked, knowing exactly what he meant. "My mum was already on my back about finding a husband, but since this engagement, it's ten times more annoying."

Pietro laughed. "Oh, no. Has she lined up suitors? My parents like to point out every pretty woman they see to me in hopes I'll make a move. It's hardly productive."

"I haven't asked her for fear she'll pull out a folder with all of the eligible bachelors in town," I said, half joking and half serious.

Pietro snickered as Wanda rolled her eyes in the background. She should have been happy I was getting along with her brother. He was actually quite entertaining to be around.

"It's funny you say that because you're one of the women my parents pointed out," he admitted.

"Oh, God, so they're saying the same thing to you?" I asked with a groan, and he nodded regretfully. "Isn't it just the worst?"

"You're a lovely girl, Y/N, don't get me wrong," he began gently, "but I don't like you like that."

I raised my hand for a high five. "Me and you both."

Laughing once again, he returned my high five and I was glad we were on the same page. The amount of people that had been hinting at getting to know Wanda Maximoff's very single brother was getting pretty annoying. It was nice to know he was just as irritated at the insinuation as I was.

"Okay, I should leave you both to it," Pietro concluded, slapping his knees and standing up. Looking to me, he said, "Miss Y/L/N, it was as lovely as ever to make your acquaintance."

I smiled as he winked playfully before looking to his disgruntled sister.

"Dear sister, the pleasure is always mine," he continued to tease, and she slapped him once more, making him dodge her and begin to leave. "Love you, too!" he called before heading back inside.

I laughed at his silliness and relaxed in my seat, looking back to Wanda. She didn't seem half as amused as I was as she drummed her fingers on the table and chewed on the inside of her cheek.

"I may be mistaken, love, but it looks like you're jealous," I poked fun at her.

She rolled her eyes and her jaw tensed before she finally looked to me, expression softening. "Can you blame me?" she asked quietly. "You're both single. You're both similar age. Everybody talks."

I shrugged nonchalantly, having a sip of my tea. "True... but I've got my eye on another Maximoff anyway."

She sighed, small smile creeping on her lips. Subtly moving my chair closer to hers, I grabbed her hand under the table and squeezed. My thumb stroked her hand softly as I leaned on the palm of my hand on the table.

"You look really beautiful today," I admitted in a hushed voice. "I should have told you earlier."

She, too, leaned into the palm of her hand as she watched me with an enchanting gaze. "So do you, milaya (darling)."

Unable to resist, I glanced around quickly before kissing her cheek and pulling away. Letting go of her hand, I busied myself with the tea and biscuits again.

"Biscuit?" I offered her, and she began to laugh at my attempt at acting casual.

Playing along, she accepted the biscuit from my hand. But a knowing smile was on her lips as she nodded. "Thank you."

—

Being with Wanda was a luxury in itself, even if we had to keep it private.

To everybody else, we were merely two women about to become family who happened to create a bond that was close. But we both knew what it really was and weren't eager to say it. Because saying it made it true and that meant that what we were doing became realer than it was in our daydreams and hidden moments.

I did find myself wracked with guilt sometimes – particularly the times when Y/B/N would gush about how excited he was to marry her. Wanda was technically cheating on him with me, his sister, but that fact was something that was still blurry to me.

We had no choice but to lie and be secretive. In a world like this, where we would never be able to be together like we wanted to, all we had was secrecy and deception. Did that still make us bad people?

I tried not to think about what would happen when she actually married my brother. The future was something I was adamant on pushing to the back of my mind because I knew what it would hold and I just wanted to enjoy the time I had with her. Convincing myself that what we had wasn't serious, just a heat of the moment relationship maybe, made things easier to accept. But really, I knew that whenever she looked my way with her signature smile and dazzling eyes, it was way more than I envisioned. She was way more.

So, trying not to be dragged down with the weight of reality, I vowed to myself to only focus on the now. Focus on the moments I shared with her whilst we could. Anything beyond that and I'd surely snap.

"Medovyy (honey), the Y/L/Ns are here!" Iryna called behind her, before looking to my family and I as we stood at her front door. "Please, all of you, come in!"

She ushered us into the main hall before closing the door after us. Perfectly timed, the rest of her family left the living room and came to greet us.

Automatically, my eyes found Wanda's and she was already looking my way, her dimple making a show as she attempted to reign in an excited smile. I did the same, trying to ignore the way my heart stirred upon seeing her.

Oleg and Iryna welcomed my parents and then me, kind expressions accompanying genuine greetings. In the corner of my eye, I saw Pietro shaking Y/B/N's hand before Wanda took his place, accepting a kiss on the cheek from Y/B/N. It wasn't jealousy that I felt whenever they were together, at least not entirely – they were to be married, what more could I expect? – but it wasn't anything pleasant either.

"Ah, my favourite Y/L/N," Pietro beamed upon shaking my hand, making my lips twitch upwards. "You excited for dinner? We're having salmon."

"Ecstatic, Pietro," I answered with a playful eye roll. "All I've been thinking all day."

He chuckled at my sarcasm before letting go of my hand and moving over to greet my parents. Wanda was next, her shoulders relaxing when she stepped before me with a soft smile present on her lips.

"It's good to see you," she said, but her eyes said much more than that. "How have you been?"

Exchanging a friendly-looking hug, my body was warm where she pressed against me. Touching her always sent a rush of emotion through me and I looked forward to it every time.

"I've been good," I answered aloud, before whispering into her ear, "Better now."

She squeezed my waist inconspicuously in response before letting go. "That's good. You know, we've got time before dinner and I wanted to show you the painting I've been working on lately. Wanna see?"

I glanced at my parents and hers for permission, knowing they'd heard her question.

"Just try not to take too long since dinner will be on the table soon," Iryna said with a nod. "It's so good to see you girls getting along."

Breathing out slightly, I smiled gratefully before letting Wanda intertwine our fingers and drag me up the staircase. She led me past several doors before we finally reached hers and she tugged me inside.

As soon as the door closed, she was quick to connect our lips in a heated, desperate kiss. I relaxed against her instantly, my hands falling to her side and pulling her closer. Her fingernails gently scratched the sensitive skin behind my neck, giving me goosebumps, and I let out an involuntary gasp at the feeling.

When we pulled away for a breath, her nose brushed against mine and she pressed a final kiss to my lips, slower and more tasteful compared to the first, before smiling at me.

"I missed you," she said, as if reading my mind.

A breathy laugh escaped my lips. "It's only been a week since we last saw each other, love."

She shrugged, arms laced around my neck. "A week too long."

Raising a brow judgementally, I gave her a knowing look. She wasn't embarrassed in the slightest as her half-lidded eyes met mine with a confident smirk.

"Did you just pull me up here to have a quick snog?" I teased her.

"Well, yes," she said, making me laugh again, before adding, "And I wanted to ask you if you'll go to the park with me tomorrow. A picnic. If you want."

She bit her lip anxiously, eyes darting elsewhere as she waited for an answer. I always found it amusing how she could be so confident one second and then so innocently adorable the next.

"Wanda, I'd love to." My thumb rubbed circles on her waist as I kept ahold of her. "I hear it's supposed to be nice weather tomorrow, too."

She pursed her lips. "Even if it rained, I'd still drag you to the park with me."

"Somehow, I feel like that's true," I countered with a ghost of a smile on my lips. She tried to hide her own smile and I continued, "Was there an actual painting you wanted to show me or...?"

Breathing out with amusement, she intertwined our fingers and pulled me to the back of her room where her 'studio' was. Since the last time I'd visited, there were plenty of new additions to her work, all as wonderful as the next.

"This one is from the beach at Blackpool," she said, stopping before a medium-sized canvas depicting the horizon. "When we sat on the bench. Just before I kissed you."

My heart fluttered at the memory and I studied the canvas, recalling it looked similar to her watercolour painting of the same view. She'd done a spectacular replica in oil paints, reminiscent of the trip we took.

"You should already know what I'm going to say," I said, looking to her knowingly. "But just so you can hear it again, I absolutely love this. You're so talented."

She rolled her eyes to distract from the pink spreading across her cheeks. "Thank you... and again, thank you for taking me. Seeing an actual water source upfront really helped me refine my paintings. It feels so much more real now."

I looked back to the painting, noticing what she meant. Either way, I loved both versions of her work, before and after going to the beach.

"You did good, love."

She squeezed my hand gently before sighing quietly with realisation. "We should probably go back down."

"We should," I agreed, glancing at her. "Thanks for showing me these."

She cracked a smile, teeth nibbling on her bottom lip. "Always."

Reluctantly, the two of us returned downstairs and joined the others as they were settling at the dining table. Wanda and I sat side by side, and this time when her fingers brushed mine, I made no move to pull away.

The meal was good, but as usual, I found myself zoning out. The conversation made its rounds, falling to me as the Maximoffs wanted to know how I was doing, then moved on, giving me chance to focus on eating my dinner and getting through the evening. I knew that at one point, everybody was talking about some play that was showing in the theatres.

Bits of the conversation were going in one ear and out the other and I was minding my own business until Wanda's bare foot rubbed against my leg under the table. The sensation of her skin against mine made my knee bounce up and hit the table with surprise, earning everyone's attention.

"Are you okay, dear?" Oleg asked, noticing my discomfort.

I cleared my throat, straightening up and ignoring the stifled smile Wanda had in my peripheral vision.

"I'm good, sorry about that," I apologised awkwardly, shivering when she dragged her foot back down my leg. "You were talking about the play, right?"

That seemed to distract them, as they leapt right back into conversation, giving me a chance to breathe out with relief. I looked to Wanda, watching her lean on her palm and hide a smirk as she stared at me with mischievous eyes.

Glaring and nudging her in the arm subtly, I looked back to my food, but she didn't move her foot, nor her hand. Both brushed my against me, starting a fire on my skin and making me swallow hard. She kept like that for the whole evening, making my head dizzy and leaving me at a loss for words.

And when I looked her way, she was already staring, definitely knowing the effect she had on me.

—

"I just need to find my shoes and we can go," I told Wanda the next morning, before our date at the park.

She'd come to pick me up at my house and was hanging around my room as I finished getting ready. From her place at my desk, she hummed in acknowledgment before distracting herself with my notebooks.

"I see you're making great use of the notebook I picked out for you," she commented, and I glanced towards her mid-search for my shoes, seeing she was flicking through the already-filled book.

"I have a lot of ideas, what can I say?" I joked, before looking under the pile of clothes near my wardrobe.

She chuckled, before falling quiet again. I wasn't really paying attention to what she was doing until she spoke up after a few minutes.

"Y/N, your writing is beautiful," she said, making me look her way to see an amazed smile on her lips. "I didn't know you could write like this. I mean– I should have because you helped write that letter Y/B/N gave to me, but this..."

I shrugged awkwardly, distracting myself with my search again. "It's okay, I guess."

She exhaled mockingly. "Okay? Y/N, this is miles better than okay. Why didn't you show me this sooner?"

I smiled satisfactorily as I finally located my shoes. Grabbing them, I approached Wanda and took a seat on the edge of my bed, opposite her seat at my desk.

"Because it'll never be anything more than what you're looking at?" I said rhetorically. "It'll only ever be words confined to pages that nobody will see?"

She gave me a knowing look. "I think you forget that my brother is a publisher, dorogoy (dear)."

"And I think you forget that he is the publisher to my brother, dear," I retorted playfully.

She sighed, shaking her head and putting the notebook back on my desk. "You know Pietro would love this, right? He'd sign you in a heartbeat."

I snickered at the ludicrous thought. "Wanda, you're a little biased, love."

She rolled her eyes. "Writers write for audiences. I am an audience. I consume literature. And I'm telling you that it's not just me who would read what you have to write."

I tried not to laugh as I pulled my shoes onto my feet.

"Are you really telling me that you'd never want to get published?" she asked with a raised brow.

My heart ached at the thought of such a fantasy. "Of course I would, Wanda." I met her eyes, which were already peering across from me patiently. "I've dreamed of that. But it's just not what's to happen. My family have told me that many times. In another lifetime, maybe."

She pursed her lips, studying me thoughtfully. I offered her a smile and stood up, holding out my hand.

"Forget that," I told her. "I believe you promised me a picnic."

Thankfully, she dropped the subject and accepted my hand, letting me pull her up. The topic wasn't brought up again and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

We went to the park like she wanted and she brought a picnic basket with her, having packed a lovely variety of finger foods and snacks.

As she was unpacking the food onto the blanket, I narrowed my eyes at her. "You know, now that we're finally alone, I can say how unfair it was of you to do what you did last night."

She played dumb, shrugging, focusing on neatening up the sandwiches on a plate. "I don't know what you mean, milaya (darling)."

"Huh. Sure you don't."

Giggles flew from her lips as she glanced at me through her eyelashes. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. I just love seeing you squirm. You get all tense and it's so cute."

I pursed my lips. "I figured. You've been watching me squirm since we met."

She grinned knowingly before straightening up. "Okay, I made sandwiches and there's also some coleslaw, fruit, cheese... I made some Sokovian dishes, too, if you want to try them. Okroshka – it's like a cold soup. Then there's this olivye salad. It's... well, salad."

I smiled at the thought she put into it all and grabbed her hand between us. We'd set the picnic out behind a tree so we wouldn't have curious eyes watching us. It didn't look like we were overtly hiding, but we still got our privacy, too.

"It all looks great, Wanda," I said with appreciation. "I can't wait to try it."

She squeezed my hand in response before letting go to grab some paper plates. After popping a strawberry in her mouth, she asked, "Do you just want a bit of everything?"

I leaned on the back of my hands as I hummed a 'yes'. She began to put me some food in and I watched her, admiring the sight.

Her hair was half-pulled back today, falling in waves down her back and exposing her perfectly sculpted jawline. Everything about her was perfect – the way she moved was elegant and graceful, even when her hair fell over her shoulder and in her way; she simply moved it back with a flick of her hand and resumed what she was doing. The sun caught her immaculately, her hair glowing bright under the light and her eyes magnificently green as they focused.

As always, she took my breath away.

"Here," she said, holding out the plate towards me and pulling me from my reverie.

I accepted the plate and fork, returning her smile, before she watching as she began to make another plate for herself.

"You sure this is fancy enough for you?" I asked jokingly, stabbing my fork into a carrot. "I heard you and my brother went to a very luxurious restaurant the other night."

She met my eyes, holding amusement in her own. "Jealousy doesn't look good on you, milaya (darling)."

I kissed my teeth and rolled my eyes. "I'm not jealous, I just– it's so annoying listening to him talk about how beautiful you are or how funny you are or how kind you are."

"Oh, so you don't think I'm any of those things?" she teased, trying to get a rise out of me.

I titled my head towards her. "Of course I know you're all those things. But it doesn't mean I like hearing him talk about it constantly..."

Clearly amused, she erupted into laughter and I felt my face heating up with embarrassment. I know it sounded like I was whining, but it was true. Sometimes, I wasn't envious of my brother but rather at the fact that he could actually take Wanda out properly. He could be seen with her in public and hold her hand without fear of getting looks or disowned. He had the privilege of being with her and it wasn't fair.

"You may hear him talk about it, but there's one thing I can assure you that you get that he doesn't," she said when recovering from her laughter.

I stared at her with an exasperated sigh. "And what's that?"

She smiled confidently, glancing around quickly, before leaning forward and kissing me softly. As quickly as it came, it disappeared, leaving me desiring more.

Licking my lips, I couldn't tear my eyes from hers. "You know, you're a really good kisser."

She chuckled at my reaction and I found myself leaning in again, entranced by the way she tasted. Putting my plate to the side, I raised a hand to pull her closer, getting better access to her mouth.

She tasted sweet like the strawberry she'd just eaten and I swiped my tongue across her lip, indicating I wanted her to part her them. She did, allowing me to slip my tongue in and wrestle with hers, revelling in the way she tasted. My heart was thumping loudly in my chest as she let out a moan, it reverberating in my mouth and giving me goosebumps.

When lack of oxygen became an issue, she pulled away breathlessly, flushed cheeks adorned with a smile.

"As lovely as that was, I actually want to eat what I made," she ridiculed playfully.

"Yes, we will," I assured her, my hand moving from her neck up to her jaw. My thumb touched her lips, outlining them tenderly, subconsciously committing them to memory. "We'll get back to it."

She wanted to laugh, but I moved forward and caught her bottom lip between mine, unable to stay away. It was wrong, the rush I felt in my gut and the warmth that spread all over my body and the tingles that travelled down my spine. Because I knew what it all meant, but admitting it was a different story. So, I didn't.

I just continued to kiss the girl before me, knowing I could have kissed her forever and not regretted a single thing.

#wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #scarlet witch imagine #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen imagine #marvel #mcu #marvel imagine

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rehkkuma · 3 years

Text

she's all yours | okuyasu x reader

summary: unlike his partner in crime, Okuyasu lacked experience in the dating field. Once he believes that he may have a chance with his crush, his best friend begins to get in the way.

words: 1.8k

disclaimers/tags: fem pronouns, modern AU (basically just phones being involved), tiny bit of angst, fluff, and cursing.

He was staring again. The poor 16-year-old boy couldn't help but notice every single detail about her: the slight tilt in her walk whenever she went up the stairs, how she would tie her shoes, and the unfortunate glint of light in her eyes whenever she spoke with his best friend.

Y/n L/n was someone extremely special to him (whether she knew it or not). She could read his expressions so clearly, sometimes knowing more about Okuyasu than Okuyasu did himself. The emotions he couldn't quite put his finger on, she always had an answer to. At times, he felt undeserving of the friendship he had with her. After coming to terms with his developing feelings for the girl, of course she began to get closer with his best friend.

He was painfully aware of the difference in treatment he received compared to Josuke. While Josuke could be referenced as Morioh's pretty-boy delinquent, Okuyasu was more like the intimidating ruffian that stood by his side. Obviously, Y/n did not think of Okuyasu in that way, but her perception of him didn't matter if he was considered nothing more than a friend.

"Hey," Josuke called out, concerned for his friend.

"Y-Yeah?" Okuyasu stuttered, trying to regain his thoughts.

"Whatcha lookin' at?"

Okuyasu silently thanked Y/n for standing in a crowd with other students. If she stood any further from the school's front entrance, it would've been easy for Josuke to pinpoint who he was eyeing.

"Nothing, really. Just thought I saw a cute girl."

Josuke shrugged his shoulders, repositioning himself so his back laid more comfortably against the tree. "Well, if you do see one, ask 'em out or somethin'. I wanna see you have your first kiss before we graduate," he chuckled.

"Mhm, yup," Okuyasu responded, eyes now glued to the grass he was sitting on. He was about to spew out a self-deprecating joke but stopped himself once he noticed Y/n approaching the two of them. Immediately, he recognized Josuke's energy shift from disinterest to eagerness.

"Y/n!" Josuke cheerfully said, waving at the girl.

"Hi, you two!" she waved back. Once coming close enough, she sat down along with the boys, her knees lacing together in a criss-cross position. Because of the short distance between her and Okuyasu, the boy could smell the flowery essence emitting off of her body. He wasn't too fond of fragrances, but the one Y/n had was light and sweet-- perfectly suiting her personality.

Before he knew it, Okuyasu was staring again. The only thing that got him to snap back into reality was the cry of laughter Y/n let out after Josuke made a funny remark.

"Did you hear that Okuyasu?" Y/n choked out, leaning back with both hands on her stomach.

"Y-Yeah." Okuyasu fake laughed, really having no clue what the hell was going on.

"God," Y/n sighed as she wiped off the faint tears forming in her eyes. "I wish I could hang out with you guys a bit longer, but I just wanted to drop by and say hi. I gotta help out with some chores tonight."

"It's all good," Josuke smiled. "But only if you promise to call me tonight."

The girl rolled her eyes while getting up from the ground. "We'll have to see about that, Jojo!" She then stuck her tongue out before scurrying off to her house.

Josuke chuckled, slowly placing his chin on the palm of his hand. "She's pretty cute, isn't she?" he said, eyes glued to the girl's figure in the distance.

"Yeah, she sure is."

* * *

Okuyasu could remember the first time he met her as clear as day: his hands were tucked deep into his pockets, feet dragging along the sidewalk while he was on his way to school. Unlike his regular routine, Josuke was unable to walk with him due to an argument breaking out between him and his mother. It seemed like a bummer at the moment, but maybe it was actually a blessing in disguise.

"Fuck!"

In front of Okuyasu's feet laid a girl. Her uniform was stained with a bright red juice and its can rolled next to her. He didn't recall exactly what happened, but he did feel someone's face hit his chest before hearing a thud.

"I didn't get any on you, did I?" the girl asked with panic.

Okuyasu, hands still in his pockets, shook his head. "Mnn. Don't think you did."

"Okay, thank God. These stains are so hard to get rid of."

That was one of the first things that Okuyasu remembered from Y/n. Her casual way of talking was enough to make any stranger feel like a good friend. Something about this girl piqued his interest.

"Guess it's not your first time, huh?" he hummed.

"You'd think I'd learn my lesson after the third time."

After the small accident, Okuyasu took the girl to the laundromat. Classes would begin in any minute, but neither one of the pair minded skipping it.

"Oi, what're you gonna be wearin' in the meantime? Don'tcha think the teacher's gonna kick your ass for showing up like that?" Okuyasu pointed at the revealing tank top she wore.

"Yeah, definitely. That's why you should totally let me borrow your top," she winked.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself. I don't even have a clue on what your name is."

"L/n." she replied crassly. "It's Y/n L/n."

That was several months ago. Since then, their relationship started to significantly grow. From sending short texts to sharing a few inside jokes, to hanging out every other day after school. In Okuyasu's eyes, it was inevitable for him to fall for a girl like her.

Right before he could spill about his crush to his best friend, Josuke had already introduced himself to her. It crushed Okuyasu to see the girl he loves slowly start to move on from him-- to his own best friend nevertheless.

All of his frustrations were best to be kept to himself. No way could he express his jealousy to Josuke or Y/n. Out of all the girls that fawned over Josuke, why did she have to be one of them?

**Brring**

Okuyasu rolled his body to the other side of his bed. On a nightstand was his phone that rang. The alarm was just loud enough to break through the pessimistic thoughts roaring through his brain.

"Who's this?" he asked, too lazy to check the contact number.

"It's me, Okuyasu! Why, is it that hard to use a second of your time to check the contact name?"

He recognized that voice anywhere. It was her.

"Aw, look. I was in bed, alright?" he smiled, feeling his mood change immediately after speaking with her.

A small giggle echoed from the other end of the phone. "Alright! I wasn't here to nag you all night anyways." The girl then cleared her throat with a cough before soon speaking again. "I was thinking we should hang out tomorrow. For ice cream, maybe. Just us."

Small butterflies began to form in his stomach from hearing the last sentence. "Just us" had never sounded better.

"Sounds good to me."

"Great!" she nearly interrupted. "A-Ah, sorry! I just got excited. It feels like we've been parting ways the past couple of weeks, but I promise tomorrow's gonna make up for it!"

"It's alright," Okuyasu sighed. "See you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow!" she repeated.

* * *

Was it just Okuyasu or did she look way cuter today? The makeup she wore differed from the one she usually had on, her accessories managed to compliment her eyes even more, and she even put an effort into customizing her uniform like Josuke and Okuyasu despite expressing her laziness multiple times. She looked like an absolute doll.

"Hmph." She huffed. "You've been doing that a lot lately," she said flatly.

"Doing what?"

"Staring at me like I'm some crazy person."

Okuyasu internally panicked for a few seconds but composed himself. "You just look pretty lately, that's all."

He expected a cheeky comeback in return but was left with a bashful smile from her instead.

"Let's just hurry up and get ice cream..." she said, eyes faced to the ground.

Okuyasu nodded at her suggestion and began to walk, making sure his pace wasn't too fast for Y/n. He'd occasionally give a glance at her direction to know if he was walking at a comfortable speed for her.

Several minutes of walking and a few casual conversations later, the duo made it to the ice cream shop. Y/n ordered a mix of her two favourite flavours while Okuyasu ordered two scoops of mocha almond fudge. Feeling a bit more gentleman-like today, Okuyasu insisted on paying for the both of them.

"Thanks for the ice cream!" the girl said, taking a small lick of the cone. "I feel like the more I hang out with you, the more things I owe you back," she chuckled as the two left the shop.

"Don't sweat it. Hangin' out with you's enough for me." Okuyasu smiled.

"Ah, really?" she blushed. "That's... really sweet of you."

There she did it again. No witty comeback. Just a flustered reply.

"Somethin' up with you? Eat something bad today?" he asked.

"Hm?"

"You're just actin' a bit different, that's all. Not sayin' it's bad though. I kinda like it." Okuyasu continued to walk on the sidewalk but stopped once he realized Y/n was frozen still. "Hey, you comin'?"

Y/n began to slowly jog her way to Okuyasu. When she caught up with him, she paused once more, now looking into the young boy's eyes. "I feel like you don't hear yourself talk sometimes," she said. "I can't tell if you're flirting or you're just naturally this oblivious."

He didn't know how to respond. He was starting to get nervous from how close their faces were. If he wanted to, he could practically count each beauty mark on her face.

"Well?" she said.

"Well..." Okuyasu tried to come up with something but found himself paying more attention to the girl's lips. They looked plush and soft with a slight glossy coat from the ice cream.

Eventually, the girl noticed where he was looking at. Slowly, she closed the already small gap between the two.

"Okuyasu," she breathed out with a gentle tone. "I really like you."

"I-" he stuttered. "Not Josuke?"

"Josuke?" She covered her mouth with the back of her hand and chuckled. "I don't know what you think is going on between us, but it's not that. He's not exactly my type either."

Okuyasu couldn't believe what he was hearing. Before he could say anything back, he felt her lips against his right cheek. It was a delicate kiss. Maybe a bit sticky, but it made his heart do several backflips nevertheless.

Once her lips left his skin, she stood awkwardly in front of him. The way she looked up at his eyes with that lovestruck gaze made Okuyasu realize something he didn't before: he wouldn't need to jealous of other guys. It was clear that Y/n L/n was all his.

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athys-obelia · 3 years

Text

hey hey hey.

so like i had a thought?

au where felix notices how down diana is about her pregnancy and approaches her. she confides in him - she's afraid for her child, any complications with their health, their future, everything. the chance she is betting on is a good life for her child with their father, but...she cannot foresee the future, after all. diana has worries as any new mother would.

(under cut for length)

and after pondering on it, felix proposes an idea: what if he could garuntee this child's safety? diana had already expressed her will to make him their godfather, shouldn't he rise to the occasion? you should run away, he tells her, and spend the rest of your pregnancy at one of my father's estates.

she agrees, albeit hesitantly. he's been distancing himself from her - claude - ever since the pregnancy, but she visits him on her last night at the palace. it is a horrible night - all goodbyes are - and claude seems to sense something. he asks of her to spend the night, and diana can't find it within herself to reject the request. she'll just have to slip during at night, she thinks.

she spends her final trimester on robane lands, under the care and knowledge of felix's father as the knight spearheads the quiet search for the emperor's favorite concubine. she feels strangely at peace.

the search intensifies as her due date nears, and the week of athanasia's birth, everything...stops. duke robane explains the emperor cannot make the loss of an heir public knowledge, and has ordered the destruction of ruby palace. the concubines have been dismissed.

diana receives a special visit a few hours before going into labour - before her is a beautiful brunette with determined eyes. diana's body grows weaker by the day, she has been bedridden for the past few days, but she feels content. her child will be fine. so will her lover. claude may think her selfish after this, though she supposes if it can garuntee her baby's smile, she will accept it. she can be selfish if needed.

the obelian skies mirror the chaotic silence within the imperial palace. the young emperor has not made an appearance in the audience hall for days. his tailor has not received any orders for the usual military attire lately - rather, the instructions detail a simplistic, pure white fabric, as if...almost as if he were in mourning. the eerie calm seems to foreshow a storm.

and amidst the rain and thunder roaring across the empire, under the gaze of an ever loyal knight and a young lady, a princess is born quiet. her declining breaths reflect her mother's. "she has your eyes, my lady," says lilian york, "her father's beautiful colouring, but the strength is from you. the strength you have given her. she will live with power."

"and love?" the new mother asks weakly.

"lots," the knight swears. "a child borne of love deserves nothing less."

she is safe, my daughter - my daughter is...

by the end of the week, the imperial directory is edited at the command of his majesty, the emperor. a new name is added.

athanasia de alger obelia.

lilian york sighs at the babe in her arms. "the undying...what a cruel joke. his majesty can't possibly know whether lady diana or the little princess are still alive."

"no - it is the name lady diana expressed her partiality for," felix says with a slight smile, "it is a dare."

little athanasia groans.

athanasia de alger obelia - or, more commonly, athanasia robane - has seen many families. lilian does not what to say when the princess wonders why she cannot call her 'mother'. why she cannot address the men she believes to be her father and grandfather as such, why her grandfather refers to her as 'my lady'.

at the age of four, athanasia has stopped asking such questions. lilian cannot help but marvel at the way she avoids the topic with an intelligence that should realistically be far beyond her years.

athanasia's grandfather has made habit of asking her the same question as he tucks her in every night. "are you happy, my lady?"

she nods every time - it is such an obvious answer, after all. "athy is so happy, grandpapa! thiiiiis much!! why do you always ask that?"

her grandfather smiles. athy loves that her grandfather smiles so much. "i come from a family of knights, my lady. we are taught to honour our promises first and foremost."

"did you promise someone you would keep me happy, grandpapa?"

duke robane raises an amused eyebrow. "aren't you chatty today? get some sleep, sweet one. i will be here in the morning."

he always is.

duke robane tends to frequent the palace often. today, however, is a special day.

"were you on your way to the hall?" the emperor inquires, running into the red haired noble on his walk.

he bows in greeting. "i was not. i did not wish to bother you today, your majesty. i know you do not like to be disturbed during this time of year."

claude rather likes duke robane. he is relatively tolerable, like an older, wiser version of felix. "then what are doing outside the palace?"

"i was on my way to town, your majesty, with a... family member. her birthday is arriving soon, you see, but she was quite taken with your beautiful gardens, so i let her wander outside - i wouldn't dare allow her inside without your majesty's approval, of course."

claude raises an eyebrow. "a family member?"

"my granddaughter, sire."

claude glances at felix curiously. "i was not aware of this... development. how many children are you fathering when you're not bothering me?"

felix snorts.

"er...a foster granddaughter, your majesty."

"i do not see her here. i assume she is felix's current heir, is she not? i should be offended you have not introduced us."

"she is playing a game, sire," duke robane explains, "she has gone to hide and i am to find her. it is called hide and seek, as i am told."

he winces at the familiar voice calling out, "grandpapa!! look at this shiny flowe-"

little athanasia's face pales.

"my lady, meet his majesty, the emperor of the Obelian empire."

the blonde princess clutches her grandfather's sleeve. "from... from athy's books?"

felix cannot tear his gaze away from the emperor's face - or rather, the jewelled eyes that stare at his goddaughter.

claude could laugh. that face, even with her eyes matching the prominent robane silvery eyes...felix must really take him for an idiot, he thinks. really, he should be offended. he remembers putting felix in charge of the search years ago... lying to the emperor? disguising a member of the imperial family to pass off as their own? in what land would this not be a crime?

still, this...this 'athy' looks happy. or looked happy, before she saw him. only a fool would grow to be jovial in the palace, so claude wonders whether thank you may be in order for keeping his child so cheery.

then again, this said under the assumption that he would've kept the child alive in the first place.

claude glances at duke robane - the man is usually so poised, he thinks he'll have some fun while this little charade is up.

"what is your name?" he asks blankly.

the duke interjects, "we call her athy, sire. the name athena truly fits her - she is a very bright child."

ah, interesting...felix's father seems to both be smarter and care for the girl more than claude initially credited him.

"hide and seek," claude muses, barely making an effort to hide his smirk, "so, you've finally decided to come out of hiding."

"i was on my way to the lake. get ready to join me."

duke robane glances at five year old athanasia - she had been called to the palace for tea with the emperor once, after which their little tea parties became something of a common occurrence. he had faced hell and beyond trying to keep it under wraps - at least felix's position as the emperor's guard was a comfort.

"your majesty, forgive me, but the lady hasn't learnt to swim. i fear it may be dangerous."

athanasia shoots him a look - don't argue with the emperor, grandpapa!

"what's there to worry about when she's with me?" claude asks, eyebrow quirked, "besides. the three of you should be quite used to playing dangerous games by now."

felix sputters. "your, your majesty?"

yes, dealing with house robane is much more entertaining than roger alpheus could hope to be...

"what was it? hide and seek. your daughter could get lost, isn't that sort of thing very dangerous?"

athanasia raises an eyebrow at him, unimpressed, as felix flushes red. claude finds himself wondering - not for the first time - what goes inside her head? it's not uncommon for this child of five to react with the maturity of an adult, intriguingly.

"lets go, uncle!" she exclaims, offering him her hand as he's seen the duke and felix hold it often. she interwined her fingers with his once he accepts her hand. so small, it is. small and soft, as if he could crush her with the littlest force.

claude stares at her platinum blonde hair, a hint of a smile playing on his features. "robane has gotten quite daring lately. of course, a bold house will raise a bold child."

"grandpapa?"

duke robane glances at the blonde in his doorway - how out of place her bright hair had once looked, bouncing around in contrast to the rich, deep browns and reds of the robane mansion. the estate seems to lose life whenever his foster granddaughter visits the palace, now. as per their little custom, she visits him in his study at her return. "my lady. come."

"i have to greet lily soon or she'll get mad. she hates when i meet you without being dressed for it. but i really wanted to see grandpapa." she grins brightly, and he thinks her smile is the gods compensating for the moon's quiet glow. the princess takes her place on his lap. "what are you doing, grandpapa?"

"there's some trouble at the border. i'm only looking over our damages, i'll be done soon."

athanasia's grandpapa has never once dismissed her questions claiming she's too young. he's never withheld knowledge she's asked for. sure, he makes it so the terms are easier for her to understand, but she's never been out of the loop. "how has the emperor been to you, sweet one?"

"i almost called him daddy today," she admits, feeling her grandfather's hand on her shoulder tighten.

"oh?"

athanasia chuckles. "well, that's a lie. i did call him that. but...he seemed okay with it."

"truly?"

"yeah! he's so odd. he even told me i should stop wearing so much red and black."

"what did you say to that?" the duke asks.

"i told him they were my house colours, obviously. i can't just stop wearing my house colours! he said purple suits me better. i mean, if i was his daughter or something i could wear a lot of purple. it's the imperial family's colour, isn't it?"

he clears his throat. "...you were at the palace for the entire day, my dear, weren't you bored?"

"not really. oh! i met a magician today too."

"a magician?"

"mhm! everyone at the palace is so weird, honestly. apparently he's been sleeping there ever since emperor aeternitas? i don't know, he was really strange."

"emperor aeternitas? from nearly two hundred years ago? what else do you remember about this mage, my lady?"

she presses her finger to her chin. "to tell you the truth, grandpapa, he was very pretty. like...really pretty."

athanasia's grandfather gives her a smile she has learnt to be vary of. "are you interested in this magician, my child? i don't mind extending an invitation for the pair of you to become better acquainted."

"grandpapa! when will you stop trying to become a matchmaker?"

duke robane sighs playfully. "i'm only thinking of your future, my lady. your debutante is not too far - you will need an escort to dance the night away with."

she pouts. "i can dance with you, grandpapa."

he chuckles, and the silence stretches until athanasia breaks it once more, murmuring a soft, "no."

"no?" her grandfather echoes, confused.

"that's a 7," she says, pointing towards the document he's been working on. "not 3, that was last time. grandpapa told me the border towns have a larger population now, so that needs to be factored in, doesn't it?"

duke robane studies the calculation, the surprise evident in his sharp features. "hm?...you're right, thank you."

she grins. "i've been working on my sums lately! aren't you proud of me, grandpapa?"

"always, sweet one. you're very smart to be at this level so young."

athanasia beams. "i mean, you taught me everything so it's almost like you're praising yourself, you know?" her grandfather laughs at that, the sound deep and familiar. "anyway, are these real gold? they're very pretty." she gestures towards a box of earrings resting on her grandfather's desk.

"they were your mother's," the duke tells her, feeling the girl stiffen. "i planned to give them to you at your return."

"they're very...siodonnan," she remarks almost awkwardly. "very pretty."

"she wanted you to have them. apparently they were a gift."

"oh."

he confirms with a slight chuckle, "they are gold, authentic. that fascinates you, doesn't it? you've always been quite taken with shiny things, ever since you were a child. your grandfather was like that too, athanasia."

"you're like that?"

the duke of house robane blinks in surprise once. then twice.

felix stares at the eleven year old in the emperor's bed. blonde hair spilled all over the pillows, her frail body hidden under the covers. how...?

he hadn't registered the passage of time at all. the emperor's index and middle fingers rest on athanasia's forehead, his own creased in concentration and annoyance. felix can't even help the fury building within himself.

"your majesty," he begins cautiously - claude has been a wild card ever since watching his daughter cough up blood at the breakfast table. the massacre everyone was on edge about eleven years ago at ruby palace would've been inevitable yesterday had athanasia's childhood friend - the mage - not arrived as early as he had. "you should rest."

claude's gaze turns to him dangerously. "do not tell me to rest when-"

the girl stirs uncomfortably, her eyes opening. she glances at felix before tugging on her father's sleeve weakly. "papa...?" tears prick at the corner of the young princess's eyes.

oh, that's right - felix remembers his father having the talk with the princess a few months ago. she had accepted the new information quietly, and rather quickly, to the both robane mens' surprise. the princess had started bringing her father flowers on her visits from then, and as if in return, claude had an entire garden in built where ruby palace would've been.

the emperor's hand returns to his daughter's forehead and she blinks sleepily a few times before drifting right back to sleep. the magic has long worn off - neither father nor daughter had flinched at the sight of her shimmering blue eyes. if anything, felix had seen claude's shoulders relax.

the emperor lets out a small sigh. "i will not be here when she wakes." he traces the soft collar of her purple nightgown. "and should she consent, see to it that athanasia moves into emerald palace by the end of the month. she has been fostered long enough."

oh, his father would definitely not like that.

"are you mad, papa?" athanasia asks, the sequins of her debutante dress glittering bright u der the lights of the hall..

"why would i be? did someone dare say something to y-"

she latches onto his arm before her father has a chance to finish. "no! nobody could dare offend me on my debut. especially when i have you by my side."

"then you do you ask?"

she plays with the intricate patterns on the arm of his outfit. "because i refused to move in with you? trust me, papa, i didn't mean to hurt you at all...i was only..." scared. it was at the debutante, wasn't it? when you chose jennette over the real athy.

"it was simply your choice," the emperor tells her flatly. "and i seem to recall you delaying it. not refusing."

athanasia laughs sheepishly. "that's right. i don't want to force myself into your life. i really love our time together though, papa."

her breath hitches as claude halts in his step. his hand raises to her jawline, thumb brushing against against her earrings. "where...? where did you..."

"papa? do you need to sit down?"

it does the trick, snapping her father out of whatever trance he had been under.

"won't you dance again? i'll be here," he encourages, and athanasia nods. she's shared one with her godfather, one with ezekiel alpheus...

"what are you doing here, your highness?" duke robane inquires, separating himself from his conversation partners.

"won't you dance with me, grandpapa?"

the duke can't help but smile at the way she addresses him. "you were escorted by his majesty, sweet one. why do you wish to spend your precious time with this lowly servant?"

"grandpapa!"

he sighs with a fond smile. "alright, alright. but even dancing with fathers is out of fashion nowadays, princess. and you're here, asking me?"

she frowns, unimpressed. "i think you don't want to dance because you're so tall. are you calling me unskilled?"

he gives her a charming smile. "how could i dare?"

"don't you remember, grandpapa? in your study?" she extends her hand with a familiar smirk, "i come from a family of knights, my lord. we are taught to honour our promises first and foremost."

and really, when has duke robane ever been able to refuse his granddaughter?

a/n: literally what is this. why is this. when i say i only meant to write a drabble-

but!! duke robane never hesitates in standing up for his granddaughter, even against the emperor! athy and found family!! honestly i love the dukes' conflict here - alpheus with jennette and robane with athy :)

claude and his subtle shade 🙃

lily and the robanes honoring their promise to diana and teaching athy both love and strength <3

the magic explosion thing happened much later, and with slightly different claude/athy dynamics - he certainly can't take her presence for granted, she doesn't doesn't even live with him yet (she wants to!! the insecurities around jennette are just acting up rn)

athy will have support during amnesia arc + ana's antics!!!

#athanasia robane au!!#all i want is happy athy ok #who made me a princess #suddenly became a princess one day #wmmap #sbapod #athanasia #claude de alger obelia #felix robane #athanasia de alger obelia #duke robane #lilian york #diana of siodonna

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willowser · 3 years

Note

hi, what are some of your favorite books? :)

hi there :)

so i admittedly don't read as much as i should or wish i did, but these are the books that come to mind when answering this question:

gone girl, gillian flynn

“It’s a very difficult era in which to be a person, just a real, actual person, instead of a collection of personality traits selected from an endless Automat of characters.”

“Give me a man with a little fight in him, a man who calls me on my bullshit. (But who also kind of likes my bullshit.) And yet: Don’t land me in one of those relationships where we’re always pecking at each other, disguising insults as jokes, rolling our eyes and ‘playfully’ scrapping in front of our friends, hoping to lure them to our side of an argument they could not care less about. Those awful if only relationships: This marriage would be great if only… and you sense the if only list is a lot longer than either of them realizes.”

“I often don't say things out loud, even when I should. I contain and compartmentalize to a disturbing degree: In my belly-basement are hundreds of bottles of rage, despair, fear, but you'd never guess from looking at me.”

“You are a man. You are an average, lazy, boring, cowardly, woman-fearing man. Without me, that's what you would have kept on being, ad nauseam. But I made you into something. You were the best man you've ever been with me. And you know it. The only time in your life you've ever liked yourself was pretending to be someone I might like.”

sharp objects, gillian flynn

“Sometimes I think illness sits inside every woman, waiting for the right moment to bloom. I have known so many sick women all my life. Women with chronic pain, with ever-gestating diseases. Women with conditions. Men, sure, they have bone snaps, they have backaches, they have a surgery or two, yank out a tonsil, insert a shiny plastic hip. Women get consumed.”

“The face you give the world tells the world how to treat you.”

“A child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort.”

“I'm here, I said, and it felt shockingly comforting, those words. When I'm panicked, I say them aloud to myself. I'm here. I don't usually feel that I am. I feel like a warm gust of wind could exhale my way and I'd be disappeared forever, not even a sliver of fingernail left behind. On some days, I find this thought calming; on others it chills me.”

frankenstein, mary shelley

“I do know that for the sympathy of one living being, I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.”

“There is something at work in my soul, which I do not understand.”

“Even broken in spirit as he is, no one can feel more deeply than he does the beauties of nature. The starry sky, the sea, and every sight afforded by these wonderful regions, seems still to have the power of elevating his soul from earth. Such a man has a double existence: he may suffer misery, and be overwhelmed by disappointments; yet, when he has retired into himself, he will be like a celestial spirit that has a halo around him, within whose circle no grief or folly ventures.”

“Nothing is more painful to the human mind than, after the feelings have been worked up by a quick succession of events, the dead calmness of inaction and certainty which follows and deprives the soul both of hope and fear.”

“If I see but one smile on your lips when we meet, occasioned by this or any other exertion of mine, I shall need no other happiness.”

letters to a young poet, rainer maria rilke

“Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love.”

“I beg you, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.”

“So don't be frightened, dear friend, if a sadness confronts you larger than any you have ever known, casting its shadow over all you do. You must think that something is happening within you, and remember that life has not forgotten you; it holds you in its hand and will not let you fall. Why would you want to exclude from your life any uneasiness, any pain, any depression, since you don't know what work they are accomplishing within you?”

“In the deepest hour of the night, confess to yourself that you would die if you were forbidden to write. And look deep into your heart where it spreads its roots, the answer, and ask yourself, must I write?”

the hobbit, j r. r. tolkien

“There is nothing like looking, if you want to find something. You certainly usually find something, if you look, but it is not always quite the something you were after.”

“So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their endings.”

“May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks.”

“There is more in you of good than you know, child of the kindly West. Some courage and some wisdom, blended in measure. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.”

invisible monsters, chuck palahniuk

“Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everyone I've ever known.”

“If death meant just leaving the stage long enough to change costume and come back as a new character...Would you slow down? Or speed up?”

“Don't do what you want. Do what you don't want. Do what you're trained not to want. Do the things that scare you the most.”

“You can only hold a smile for so long, after that it's just teeth.”

fight club, chuck palahniuk

“At the time, my life just seemed too complete, and maybe we have to break everything to make something better out of ourselves.”

“I’ve met God across his long walnut desk with his diplomas hanging on the wall behind him, and God asks me, “Why?” Why did I cause so much pain? Didn’t I realize that each of us is a sacred, unique snowflake of special unique specialness? Can’t I see how we’re all manifestations of love? I look at God behind his desk, taking notes on a pad, but God’s got this all wrong. We are not special. We are not crap or trash, either. We just are. We just are, and what happens just happens. And God says, “No, that’s not right.” Yeah. Well. Whatever. You can’t teach God anything.”

“Tyler lies back and asks, "If Marilyn Monroe were alive right now, what would she be doing?" I say, goodnight. The headliner hangs down in shreds from the ceiling and Tyler says, "Clawing at the lid of her coffin.”

#honestly i enjoy most things by chuck palahniuk #as well as mary oliver #i actually enjoy the hobbit as well as the entire lotr trilogy but i would be here all night answering this question if i included quotes #this just in: willow is a fantasy writer by nature #✿ ask willow

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georgemackayhey · 4 years

Text

Rules For Falling In Love: #3

summary: In which George wants to get married. But… you’re not dating. Why should you say yes?

a/n: So sorry I've been MIA! Here's the news. There are only two chapters left of this fun little story. And something else is in the works for which I'll be posting a sneak peek of very soon (bet ya can't guess what it is!) I hope you're all still just as in love with this plot, though, because I know I am. Let me know your thoughts as always, dudes

w/c: 3k

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"What the hell are you doing?" You hissed through your teeth at your very own reflection. You were dressed for any imaginable occasion. If folks noticed you waltzing down the street, they might assume you were on your way to lunch with friends. They might think you were headed to the market, or to the movies, or shopping around. But they most likely wouldn't imagine you were on your way to get married. But you were.

You perfected your lipgloss and fixed your hair, and when there was nothing left to primp, you stood there, still, waiting for the girl on the other side of the glass to reach through, grab your shoulders and shake some sense into your head. But she didn't.

///

"That's it? We're done?" You asked in a stunned breath. The cheery old fellow who'd walked you through the process of signing a bunch of papers and reciting a few promises smiled, but studied you for a beat before nodding.

"You're married, now. Congratulations!" He escorted you and your group toward the door, waving a bony hand from the entry before slamming the old wooden door shut, abandoning you in the massive marble halls.

"Oh, that's absolutely not it." George's sister whined. The girl yanked you and her brother out into the warm sunshine. She shoved some wildflowers in your hands, forced you to stand in place, and shoved her brother to your side. George draped an arm around your shoulder as you both grumbled for the girl to stop making such a fuss.

"Just think of all the things I was talked out of doing. The party I could have- no, should have thrown. Now smile!" She rose her phone camera and snapped a few shots, humming with satisfaction when she was decidedly finished. Bless her, she really did only want the best for the two of you. And you and George were due for some new photos besides the ones snapped of your forced smiles at the latest award show.

"Well, I forgot to bring cake as promised, but let me take you round the cafe uptown to kick off my stress eating. " Dean sighed as if someone was making him pitch the offer.

"Sounds like ya need it." You jested. Dean rolled his eyes and gave you a real, soft smile. George's sister left with a big wave and a dramatic congratulations.

Dean was excited to choose your celebratory treats himself, and was the first to dart inside the posh cafe when you arrived. You and George followed, laughing about how your friend had transformed into the classic "kid in a candy shop." You lost Dean to the winding line and moved to find some big comfy seats in the busy shop.

The reality of your latest achievement hadn't quite set in yet. George's laughter was such a familiar, comforting sound, as you settled beside him on some ridiculously oversized ottoman. Today was just... another day.

"Please tell me that what Dean just told me is a big fat joke." A familiar lilt pipped up from the other side of the paint chipped coffee table in front of you. George's agent was stood, slack-jawed with a big, whip cream filled to-go coffee in hand. How funny she happened to be here, you thought. Only her surprise greeting was much different from the times you'd bumped into each other and chatted in line at the markets, before.r

"It's nice to see you too, Donna." George laughed, watching as she set her drink down and moved to sit in the claw foot chair at your side. The woman reached for your hand in a flash, focusing on the ring you'd grown rather attached to over the week.

"Surprise?" You laughed, a twinge of worry settling in your stomach as the woman glanced up to you, eyes full of shock.

"Why on earth did you get married?" She asked in a slow squeak, turning to George as you drew your hand out of her clutch. "More importantly why haven't you told me?"

"Well, it's only just happened. Like half an hour ago." George looked to you, then back to his agent. Donna let out a laugh, and you understood her shock, but her reaction was a bit unnerving. She continued to ask a string of rhetorical questions, how, why, where, why, why?

That was about the time Dean emerged from the line that was now flooding out of the doors and around the building. Was it filling up in here, or was the place closing in on you? A nagging unease settled at the base of your lungs as George told Donna some of the things you'd discussed and what led you to signing some papers, together.

Your favorite third wheel plopped down a tray of little bite-sized cakes, decorated in different shades of pretty pastel icing. They reminded you of the macaroons George brought home from the last award show after-party, and never shared.

"Care to join in the celebration? Tea is on it's way." Dean spoke in Donna's direction before casting his gaze to you, sitting across the way.

"Unfortunately, I've got to get going, but I do wish we could continue discussing what the hell you two have gotten yourselves into." Donna stood, with a wavering smile, grabbing her condensation covered to-go coffee, and spinning toward the door to the tune of your crew's goodbyes.

You glanced down to the cakes Dean had picked out, as he piped up to explain their fillings and flavors. George reached over to place a hand on your knee, as he nodded along to his friend's excited dessert-themed rambles. All the worry that had sprouted at Donna's confusion was swiftly put at ease when you noticed the ring on George's finger. This was your decision, together. You'd talked it all the way through and back. Anyone else's worry over the matter didn't hold value over that fact.

When your tea came, you had managed to ask Dean about the girl he'd been seeing. The three of you noshed on divine desserts and listened to your friend gush over the girl he'd taken on a fourth date, just the night before last. His eyes sparkled and you couldn't help but smile when he paused to think up just how to describe his new beau. He was lucky to have found someone who brought a blush to his cheeks at the mention of their name. Hers, was Claire.

You'd been enraptured by Dean's rose-colored chatter, so much so that your phone's sudden rhythmic buzz in your pocket made you gasp aloud.

"Oh shit." You muttered, past a bite of cake. "We're gonna be late for that thing." You turned to George whose face lit up in recognition. He had an interview today, one for a late-night talk show that would be on air long after you'd settled in for the night.

George thanked his friend for the desserts and for being there today, for the both of you. You knew George meant it, you knew how important it was to him. But to hear his genuine appreciation in his goodbye to Dean made your heart lurch.

"I know I've been giving you both a hard time about this, and I'm still a bit confused by the whole thing, but honestly, I'm happy for you both. And I'm glad you let me come along today." Dean shrugged as you all stood to head your separate ways. Now your heart was a puddle, as you flung yourself to the fellow, wrapping him in a hug and thanking him for being too good a friend. You were lucky too, you figured.

///

It was almost actually funny how uncomfortable these things made George. He was so keen to be a movie star, in the most romantic sense, of course. He could go on for days (months, even, you suspected) about the magic of storytelling and all the lessons to be learned from his chosen career.

But promoting his works, promoting himself, wasn't something he was fond of in the very least bit. So once, you tagged along to some garish dinner party that was really just a competition for best dressed, in disguise. He mingled with the people he knew, and the people he was meant to know, trying with all his might to make genuine connections because if he'd failed to learn at least one person's life story on a night out, he considered the evening wasted. And when they asked about him, he'd get it over with in a flash before turning his attention to you, introducing you, asking you to tell that one story. And when you were left alone to await the next celebrity encounter George begged you with his hands clasped together to come along with him to all of the ridiculous Hollywood shindigs he was ever required to attend. And of course, you couldn't tell the boy no.

So tonight was another one of many. You went home, tossed on a dress, and spun out of the door again without a second to breathe. All your focus was spent reminding George that this would all be worth it in the end. How selling his latest film to millions of viewers would ensure the story he was so proud to have been a part of would effectively become dear to most everyone who tuned in to hear his interview.

When you crept through the studio doors, hand in hand, the welcome George received was perplexingly warm. Interns offered both of you snacks and drinks, directors passed through the green room doorway with beaming smiles, and instructions for George to follow. Writers breezed in, covering the last of the bases, and a friendly old makeup lady fussed over his look just in time for George to float to the stage. When he did, he dragged you along with him. You let go behind all the cameras, promising you'd be near the door's he was meant to exit- near enough to give him the odd thumbs up and dash away when it was all said and done.

A small audience murmured as the set changed, and cameramen fluttered about. And then it was off. A man in a casual suit sped through a nauseating, over-rehearsed introduction and you wondered how many of the audience members were laughing for real or because they'd been told to.

And then, out of nowhere, without any warning, the interview took a turn you hadn't prepared for in the least. After the usual quick nice to see you again greetings had been passed back and forth, the host asked George a question he already knew the answer too and presented a photograph you hadn't even gotten the chance to see yet.

It was the one his sister had taken this morning, with the wildflowers, out in the midmorning sun. She'd posted it to her Instagram, tagging you in the caption that featured some long-winded sentiment. And you knew that the girl only had you in mind. She probably wasn't dreaming of George's next interview when she uploaded the photo for the world to see. She most definitely probably wasn't thinking of a moment like this coming true, and how her brother would hate it. In the blink of an eye, you envisioned George angrily phoning his sister and her dramatic defense, and a big unnecessary row breaking out.

But then you zoned back to life and watched George answer the interviewer's question with a small smile. He confirmed that he was officially married, and glad to be. George swiftly moved the conversation toward the film he was meant to prompt, which didn't sway the host on a strict schedule to cover all sorts of topics in the next three minutes. But George wasn't dismissive of the subject. He didn't squirm when the aspect of his personal life was spoken aloud to a room full of strangers. He smiled and caught your eye from the stage. You were too stunned to give him the usual thumbs up from where you waited, you just watched as he grinned, and nodded when the host offered his congratulations.

Then it was over, and the audience flooded away, and you and George hurried to collect yourselves and leave in as big of a hurry as you could without seeming rude. He held your hand like a vice, and you led the way out of the exit, toward the car park.

Before you could reach sweet freedom, a small crew of George's fans had been waiting near the back, with hopes of catching a moment of the guys time they'd come to watch get interviewed. The three young girls held out a marker and asked for his autograph in a shy manner. You noticed most of the fans George encountered over the years were just as meek and mild as the guy himself.

So he smiled and agreed with pleasure, as you awkwardly shifted on the sidelines, unable to flee to the car across the way because he had the keys.

"We're really happy for you, by the way." One of the girls piped up, facing you. "You guys have like, always been our favorite couple."

"You restore our faith in love." Another one of the girls giggled, approaching George with movie posters in hand.

All the complex feelings in your gut the rose at the girl's comments didn't matter. It was entirely too sweet of them to say something. So you thanked them with a smile, and waved goodbye when the last of them had their selfie with George. He said goodbye and turned toward the car with a sigh. You could practically see the weight of the evening's events fall off of his broad shoulders.

You piled into the passenger seat, debating on what to have for dinner, already knowing he dreamed of nothing more than a self-indulgent end to the long night. When you both agreed on what to have, a silence fell over the two of you for the first time all day.

It was heavy with different versions of the same question, the same subject. You'd woken up in one era, one that ended around ten this morning. And neither of you had much of a chance to talk about the fact that you were married now.

"Are you... happy?" You spoke up, at last, watching the world float by on your drive through the city.

"I am. Are you?" George smiled, turning to catch your eye, glancing back at the road ahead a couple of times.

"Yeah." You laughed a little. You wouldn't have agreed to any of this if you weren't dead sure you'd be at peace when the decision was made. And you were filled with that same calm that filled you in the cafe, this morning when George rested his hand on your knee. You'd made the right decision for the both of you, and you were very glad for it indeed.

///

Three months had passed. They were quite busy, and filled with all the usual stress that any typical trio of months held. But as the days passed by, you found George was right, somehow. Things... were easier. Maybe you'd talked yourself into believing so, but you noticed celebrities had stopped leaving you out of chit chat when they breezed through after-parties. You notice stranger men had stopped pestering you at the bar, half of the time. And when you met new people and wound up in new places, you didn't have to go through the long spiel of who Geogre was to you, and why he was always around. He was simply your husband, now.

It was strange to get used to the tile at first, but by the time you'd made it to month four, it rolled off your tongue like melting butter. George seemed most keen to use your unity to get out of other plans.

"Sorry I'll have to miss the next gala, my wife wants to go kayaking." You'd never kayaked. You didn't know how, and you'd never brought it up.

"Ah yes, I am that guy from that one movie but sorry I can't come back to your motel, I've got to help my wife pick out dinner." He had rushed you along grocery store stalls in a hurry to escape the odd, unnerving encounter.

That's how your week started, avoiding the scary fan who kept stalking through the market, stopping George with strange questions around too many corners. It wasn't his most unsettling encounter, but one that left the poor guy on edge for another day or so. You'd get home after fifteen-hour shifts, too tired to talk about it. Too tired to ask what he'd been up to all day.

By the end of your week, you'd barely seen George, and he'd been just as busy. You ended your last, hellish never-ending shift with tears in your eyes from the thousands of little things that had piled up and left you stressed till it was time to clock out.

You got home to find George in the living room, reaching for the remote. He left the thing on the coffee table when he twisted to see you in the doorway, worn down, strung out, over it. He asked if you were alright as you kicked your shoes away and hung your coat up in a hurry to decompress.

You demanded George wait to watch whatever film he had in mind for you to join him. You desperately needed to shift your focus from your own worries to an unrelated fictional realm. In a hurry, you showered the day from your achy body and slipped into your comfiest nightclothes. Then you piled up your best blankets on the sofa, using a couple as faux pillows while you and George shared one big, massive quilt, and flipped on the film.

"What'll be tonight then?" You asked, sinking into the cushions at long last.

"That one my mum won't shut up about. About that couple who gets divorced? WOn a bunch of awards." George muttered, clicking on Netflix. He'd always made it a point to watch the films the public raved over, to find out if the fuss was worth it.

"What if this kick starts our own divorce." You joked, the thought escaping your lips as soon as it passed through your head. Regret might have seeded itself in you if George wasn't so quick to laugh.

"I solemnly swear I will not let a fictional couple's marital issues affect my promise... no, my genuine desire to continue working at being with you for better or for worse."

Where the hell did that come from? You gapped at George as he queued up the film.

"Damn. You're getting good at this whole husband thing." You let out a small, stunned laugh. It made the dull ache in your head hammer. George noticed as you drew a hand to your brow, waiting for the thrum to settle.

"I'm sorry you had another bad day," He whispered.

"Thanks, You softened, knowing he truly empathized.

George lifted his arm and bobbed his head, beckoning you closer. You took the invite to curl into his side with a sigh. He was warm, and comforting, and his bicep was the perfect pillow. You relaxed for the first time in forever, it seemed, closing your eyes in to soak up the calm, quiet evening. The sounds of the film faded as you fell into an accidental nap.

You were jarred awake by a dreadful buzzing coming from the coffee table. George's phone was ringing, and when he twisted too slowly to reach for it, you realized he'd fallen asleep too. You noticed Dean's name flash across the screen as George answered, lackadaisically holding the cell in the hand that wasn't still closely wrapped around you.

"You're on speaker," George warned, as you stayed lethargically content at his side.

"Good! I have a question for both of you." Dean 's voice crackled through the telly. His assumption that you were already wherever George was, made you chuckle.

"Claire and I are staying in that quaint little seaside town, this weekend. Fancy coming along? In fact, it was her idea to invite you both to join us." Dean explained, it sounded as though he was walking through the city, shouts and clangs passing through the call.

You glanced up to George from where your head still rested near his shoulder. Neither of your expressions held signs of disinterest so when George carefully responded to Dean that the idea sounded nice, and asked for more details, you grinned and relaxed back into place.

Dean listed off some more information as George hummed and murmured in response. When the call had ended and new plans were made, George tossed his phone back on the table, and settled deeper into the sofa, shifting the weight of his arm beneath you, but hardly disturbing your peace a bit. The sun was peeking through the cracks of your curtains, and the movie must have been nearly over. You both drifted back asleep without another word, and all seemed well. It must have been.

You and George were closer than ever before- and you had already been classified as inseparable. But you'd hardly gotten to enjoy each other's company since making whatever you had official. Rule number three of this marriage enforced you must take every opportunity to for a bit of fun, as possible. It was time for a small getaway. A peaceful sleep would have to do, till then.

───※ ·❆· ※───

taglist: @whenthe-smokeisinyoureyes @andux @imaginationandlove @velvetgoldsilver @queen-bunnyears @maria-josefin @dearevansamham @belledamsceno @nilletellsstories @loulouloueh @visionsofmelodrama @haileymorelikestupid

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george mackay imagine #george mackay fanfic

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radiorenjun · 4 years

Text

Lavender Antics.

→ Pairing: Han Jisung X Reader

→ Summary: Shooting in a drama with him was your absolute nightmare. Working with your enemy and pretending that you were love interests has been the most frustrating experience of your life. Though, after saying your farewells, the scent of lavender never leaves.

→ Genre:enemies to lovers au, idol au, romance, angst, slowburn.

→ Warnings: Very hurtful words. Antics. Mentions of insecurity. Alcohol, Swearing, Making out. Suggestive?

→ Word Count:

→ Chapters: 1, 2, 3

You tucked your phone in your pocket as you entered the dance studio to be greeted by your group members stretching and warming up. "Hey y/n!" they greeted in unison, making you smile at how their cheerful aura greeted your exhausted figure. "Hi," you replied shortly, dropping your dufflebag near theirs on the floor.

"How was filming?" Jaehwa asked, letting out a groan when Haneul pushed her back down as she did a split. "The usuals: Jeongin being a crackhead, the director shoving it into our faces that we're going to Tokyo, that donkey being insufferable. Same as always," you chuckle, joining them as you stretched your arms.

"Oh yeah! I forgot you're leaving for Tokyo soon. When are you going again?" Cheonsa exclaimed, massaging her ankles. "Honestly, first Cheonsa was on hiatus. Now you're on hiatus just for some drama film?" Jaehwa chuckled. You rolled your eyes at Kiyeon before answering Cheonsa's question, "Im leaving in two days. I'll be out of your hair for a whole month so enjoy it while you can," you joked.

"Believe me, I know I will." Kiyeon responded, taking a sip of her caffeine. "Oh hush, you'll miss me when I leave." you snickered as you hit her shoulder playfully. "Since you're leaving your dearest best friends behind for some dick, you better treat us to something tomorrow." Cheonsa exclaimed.

"I want steak!" she added with a bright smile. You lifted your fist as if you were gonna punch her, sucking your lip into your mouth as you growled out. "Why you lil-" Jaehwa sat up from her split and patted your thigh, "don't kill anyone just yet, y/n. You still have alot to live for. Plus I don't wanna be the one getting you out of prison," she sighed.

"Cheonsa's not wrong though. You should treat us to something before you leave," Haneul nodded in agreement, making Cheonsa let out a victory cheer at her statement. "I agree. Last time, y'all completely ditched me in that restaurant leaving me to pay that tremendous bill when you all said we were gonna split it!" Kiyeon grumbled.

"It was all planned, by the way." you smirked with a chuckle. "It was Cheonsa's idea for a prank, too." Jaehwa smiled with a nod. Kiyeon glared at our leader who was giving her an innocent peace sign. "Man, I'm really gonna miss you guys when I'm in Tokyo." you sighed, laying your cheek on your palm as your elbow stood on your thighs.

"Of course you will, you can't live without us." Kiyeon chuckled, giving a soft punch to your shoulder. "And Im leaving," you pretended to stand up as the girls chuckled at your reaction. You giggled as you retreated to your former position. "Man, who am I going to talk to in Tokyo when you idiots aren't there?" you whined.

"Yang Jeongin? Or that makeup artist, she looks really nice when I came to visit you on set." Haneul suggested. "Stop acting as if it's the end of the world, you fucking drama queens. Video chatting and texting exists, too, you know." Jaehwa patted your back. You smiled softly at your friends.

"Wait, you're saying that y/n isn't going to die? Damn, I made a whole song and funeral and everything." Cheonsa said in a sardonic tone, causing the whole group to laugh. "You wish. You're stuck with me, get used to it." you wrapped your arm around her shoulder and pulled her to a side hug.

"I really hope our contract ends soon." Cheonsa uttered jokingly. "Very funny," you rolled your eyes with a smile on your face. "By the way, have you heard that Chen-sunbaenim is getting married?" Haneul gossiped in a dramatically posh-popular girl tone. "Oh my god, what? Ugh, I can't believe some girl took away my sunbae," you mocked her tone.

"Isn't Sehun your bias, though?" Kiyeon laughed. You nodded with a laugh, dropping the whole fancy act, "though, it wasn't a surprise, really. I mean, whenever I walk by there's always this girl he keeps hanging out with, I'm guessing that's her." you informed.

"Can't believe we're gossiping bout our seniors." Jaehwa shook her head with a chuckle. "What? It's already made public, it's basically the trending topic of the hour. I hope I get invited though, I wanna see my childhood idol get married. God, we're becoming old, girls!" Cheonsa whined, flapping her hands aimlessly.

"You're becoming old, that is. I'm still younger than you," you teased. "Oh hush, just because I have a boyfriend doesn't mean I'm getting old for fucks sake. You're probably gonna date that Jisung guy in the future, just wait and see." she tutted with a point of her finger. You pretended to gag, laying a palm on your chest as you stuck your tongue out in disgust. "No thank you," you croaked dramatically.

"I rather date, Shrek, himself than that stubborn cheesecake stealing donkey." you clenched your jaw angrily. "You know, he's not that bad. From what I see in interviews, he looks like a really nice guy to hang out with," Kiyeon shrugged, taking her coffee cup to her lips.

"That is, if he doesn't hate you for no absolute reason!" you exclaimed, flailing your hands up dramatically. "Well, it seems like you hate him too so you're both in the wrong." she smirked. "I do hate him, if that wasn't clear. But he started it first! If he wasn't such a dick then maybe I would've considered him a friend!" you huffed.

"You're being over dramatic. What did he do that was so bad to make you hate him anyways?" Jaehwa rolled her eyes with a heavy sigh. You paused, recalling the unpleasant memory, "I don't wanna talk about that." you mumbled, looking at your hands.

"Jesus Fucking Christ," Kiyeon grumbled. "Shouldn't we practice?" she asked. "We should, but we really need a break so let's just slack off for a while and get back to practise in a couple of minutes." Haneul suggested. Cheonsa was about to retort when her phone rang, her face lit up at the sight.

"The bf is calling, do what you want. But when I get back, be prepared to be trained hard vocally and physically." she chuckled, walking out of the room with her phone vibrating like crazy in hand. As the door swung shut, there was a peaceful yet awkward moment of silence. "So what now?" you asked.

"Have you packed yet?" Haneul asked, ignoring your question. You scratched your head at the thought, "kinda, but most of my clothes that I already packed are just sweaters and shorts." you shrugged. "I'll help you pack once we get back to the dorm, you always under pack and borrow my clothes or shop for really tacky ones in supermarket stores." Jaehwa laughed.

"Oh hush, I just like wearing comfy clothes!" you chuckled. "Unfortunately for you, comfy clothes isn't an option for this comeback." she grinned with a snap, causing you to roll your eyes at her statement. "Shut up," you groaned.

The door opened slightly, attracting your attention as Cheonsa's head poked through. "Hey girls, I'm about to go to the other dance studios real quick, alright?" she informed with an excited smile before exiting the room once again, grabbing her waterbottle in the process without letting any of us respond to her.

"Appointing her as our leader was the number one worst mistakes of our careers," you announced aloud, causing the girls to laugh and nod in agreement. "Couldn't agree more, y/n. Couldnt agree more," Jaehwa laughed.

A few seconds later, the door opened once again and Cheonsa's head poked into the room. "By the way, you're really gonna treat us to food right?" she grinned with a hopeful and teasing glint in her expression. You chuckled, waving your hand to dismiss her as she laughed and exit the door.

"Guys, is that really necessary?" you chuckled, looking at your members after you checked if your passport and ticket was there. Your members had thoughtfully decided to drop you off at the airport, while wearing unessecary disguises such as a Mona Lisa costume, a moustached detective, Dwayne Johnson's face duct taped to a clown mask and Oli London's face carved from cardboard.

"Yes it is. It's important for us to not be recognized by the public and drop our little y/n off to school." Kiyeon responded, shamelessly fidgeting with her detective hat. "If you guys are gonna walk out looking like that, not only y'all are gonna get recognized by the people, you'll also embarrass me and cause more drama online!" you laughed, crossing your arms as you entered the airport gate.

"Hush, I'm parking the car. You don't want me to make this long and miss your flight do you?" Cheonsa gave you the stink eye through the rearview mirror, gazing at your through her long wig. "Honestly, y'all are gonna be accused as weirdos and get escorted out." you pursed your lips as the car stopped.

"What's so wrong bout wanting to drop off our member?" Jaehwa asked, nudging your shoulder as she shifted her Oli London mask back on to cover her face. "Thank you for the ride," you rolled your eyes and stepped out of the vehicle, quickly grabbing your suitcases and running off before your members could spot you.

As you ran, you lifted your phone to call your manager, informing him where you are. "I'm in the station already, where are you?" you asked, looking around as it was almost 10 minutes til boarding time. "You what?" you gaped at your managers response.

"Hey ugly!" a familiar voice yelled through the crowded room. You winced at the sound of the voice and chuckled nervously at your manager, "you couldn't just come here yourself?" you exclaimed nervously. "Right, you have to check on the other staff." you nodded before rubbing the space inbetween your eyes, ignoring the voice yelling your name behind you that was getting louder and louder.

"Hey ugly!" Jisung exclaimed, showing his pearly white teeth as he layed a hand on your shoulder. You glared at him, giving him the stink eye at the nickname which caused him to chuckle. He has been calling you thathighly insultive nickname since that scene you had to do with you being pushed to a puddle of mud, smearing your face in it.

Playing the role of the bullied popular girl has never been so tough when Jisung became your real life bully. "Hello donkey," you spat as your manager spoke his last words bout checking the VIP tickets and hanging up without giving you a second to reason with him.

"Im here to pick you up!" he chuckled, his heart shaped lips forming a bright smile that never left his face. You shuddered before gripping the handle of your suitcase tightly, "I am very much aware, thank you very much." you answered with a shaky breath.

"Let me help you with your suitcase," his hand reached to grab one or your suitcase which you slapped away due to your suspicion. "I don't trust you enough with my suitcase, who knows you might leave it here when we board." You said with a raise of your eyebrow.

He frowned at your words, his lips forming a scowl before he rolled his eyes. "I was just trying to be nice, sheesh, don't need to be a bitch about it." he shot back, pulling the straps of his backpack to his shoulder before leading you forward to where the rest of the cast were sitting.

You felt his hand hit your back gently, you flinched at the contact looking back at him as you cursed in response. "What the fuck was that for?" you exclaimed, looking back at Jisung. Jisung just looked at you with an unbothered expression, "Chill out, Ms.Y/n. I'm being nice here, there was a bug on your back and I took care of it for you," he rolled his eyes.

"You're welcome." He smirked, crossing his arms as you glared at him suspiciously before sitting down with a nod. You continued to speak with your co-worker, Yeoreum, who was playing the role of your bully. Despite her role, she's an absolute sweetheart.

"I see you and Jisung are bickering, once again." Yeoreum smirked, offering you a lollipop which you happily accepted. "Im not surprised anymore, it's become a daily routine now." you sighed, sipping your lemon tea. "Your members didn't come to say goodbye?" she asked, "I wanted to see them before we leave."

"Trust me, they did. They dropped me off and dressed up as if tonight's Halloween or something. But to be honest, if I didn't leave them alone I would've been bombarded with more paparazzis than I was three minutes ago," you chuckled, showing her a picture of them with their ridiculous costumes on your phone.

She burst out laughing, grabbing your phone in her hands. "When we arrived at the hotel, we're definitely video chatting them to see if they still have those ridiculous outfits on, right?" she smirked. "I don't know... Im probably gonna feel to tired to even open my eyes," you joked, earning a strong push from her.

"Y/n!" she whined, shaking your figure vigorously. Jeongin groaned, feeling interrupted from his game. "Director-nim! Yeoreum is bullying me!" you laughed, whining playfully. "Would you guys shut up, you're distracting us from our game!" Jisung complained as he tried to focus what's happening on the screen of the Nintendo Switch before him.

"Shut up, donkey." you chuckled as you lined up for the VIP section of the plane. You heard Jisung snickering behind you, only to be smacked by a disappointed Jeongin who was shaking his head in disapproval. "Honestly, why are you like this?" he mumbled.

"Shut up," Jisung laughed, nudging his friend as you continued to walk towards your seat, subtly giving him a look filled with suspicion. "What's wrong with him?" you muttered to yourself, sucking your lollipop as you sat down next to one of the staff who was already fast asleep.

You plucked in your earphones and fidget in your seat to get into a comfortable position, you turned on your favorite playlist and relaxed in your seat, drifting off to sleep in a matter of minutes.

You stretched as you exited the plane and entered the airport, reuniting with the rest of the cast. Jisung was giggling behind you despite his tired eyes boring into yours. You raised your brow, "what are you laughing bout?" you asked with a croaky voice.

"It's 2 in the morning, what could you possibly be laughing bout?" you repeated in a cranky tone. He giggled before shaking his head at you, continuing to grab his suitcases. You huffed at the peculiar boy giggling away infront of you, rubbing your eyes to try and wake yourself up a lil bit more til you arrive at the hotel.

"Hey y/n. Is that sign on your back always there?" Yeoreum asked, dragging her suitcase behind her, pointing at your back. Your eyes widened as your arms quickly reach to venture your back, feeling a piece of paper taped to the fabric of your hoodie.

You gripped it and pulled it away from your hoodie, taking a closer look at the slightly crumpled paper. "What the fuck?" you whispered under your breathe almost inaudibly. Written in bold letters was a big 'KICK ME' in an oh-too familiar handwriting.

You growled, crumpling the piece of paper and tossing it into a garbage bin. "Han Jisung, I am going to slaughter you!" you exclaimed, running up to him who surprisingly ran for his life. Due to your lack of sleep, you were a little slower than him so you gave up.

You spotted him hiding behind his manager, his head poking out. He looked at you with eyes wide awake, grinning like the cheeky bastard he is, you raised a fist at him. He stuck his tongue out playfully at your small threat. You raised a middle finger at him in response.

"Alright then, once the bus to the hotel arrives, sleep as much as you can. We're going to start filming late this noon til midnight, so get all the rest you can." the director announce with a yawn, going through the files and looking at his wrist watch.

The whole staff groaned including you who was checking your phone, notifying your parents and members bout your safety. "I take it back, I'm gonna be sleeping like a pig for the next ten hours" you groaned at your costar. "Geez, weak." Jisung chuckled before yawning into his mouth.

"Im sorry, Mr donkey. I didn't order a glass of your opinion," you rolled your eyes at him. As the bus came to a stop infront of you, you yawned taking the first step with Jisung half asleep beside you. You chuckled to yourself at the sight of the older boy yawning and rubbing his sleepy eyes.

This was going to be a long month.

#lavender antics #han jisung x reader #stray kids han #stray kids han jisung #han jisung imagines #han jisung #skz scenarios #skz au #skz fluff #skz jisung #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids #stray kids smut

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exobyharu · 4 years

Text

PCY - One Shot

Image source to follow. I just Googled it like this

“You just freaking downgraded me!”

Summary: PCY knows that he’s being a five -year-old for treating you like a guy. But what’s a man to do when the girl he likes is taken? Here’s a friendly little back and forth with PCY a few days after you break up with your boyfriend.

⏰10:01 AM

🌏A deserted mall parking lot, but only because it’s not open yet

🌞The kind of sunny that makes PCY squint.

👥YN, Park Chanyeol, Byun Baekhyun (mentioned), YBN (your ex-boyfriend) (mentioned)

Notes: It’s been forever! But I’m still alive! There’s a little mention of implied violence, but it’s all just cute, really. Sorry I take too long!

Words: ~2,100

💙💙💙

“Or you can quit telling me how to live my life, Chanyeol,” you complain, putting your phone down because you finally spot Chanyeol getting down their company car in his glorious failure of a disguise – a white cap and facemask, worn under a hoodie with the word BALENCIAGA spelled in angry bold letters across his broad back. For an idol who has spent years in the limelight, you would think that the guy had grown wiser in his choice of outfits for public places like, this instance, a mall parking lot. Even that middle-aged woman raking leaves across the entrance gives him a second look.

Who wouldn’t?

Because there is no need to walk like that – with a slight upward tilt in his head, one hand pressing a phone to his ear and the other on his hip, strutting confidently with smooth, long strides. You make a mental note to remind him that the pavement is no catwalk. It’s almost mesmerising, watching a real-life supermodel approach you, looking fresh even when his eyes are squinting hard against the mid-morning sun.

About three meters away, his voice is distinctly Chanyeol, but just a bit huskier than usual as if he is dying to put on a show. Too bad there seems to be no one else watching but you.

“It’s real! You’re here!“ he calls out anyway, extending a clenched fist – a move that you recognise is reserved for his male friends. You stare at the fist bump that never happened, knowing well what he would say if you take his bait. Something along the lines of: For a man, your hands are small, or How’s my brother in a woman’s body? or That’s my little YN-niee! which is always followed by Yah! I really wish you were born a guy!

So you stare at his hand, not sharing the level of his excitement. Shit just happened. You have too little energy to deal with Chanyeol’s fantasies of you as his younger brother. When he notices your lack of enthusiasm, his outstretched hand goes for your head and attempts to mess your hair up instead. “You must be desperate to waste money. The mall does not open in an hour.”

Just desperate to get out of my head, really.

On a regular day, you would hate even the wind for ruining your hair. But this time, his hands are surprisingly gentle. You make an effort to ignore how it feels and snap back at him, anyway. “It’s called Retail Therapy. You just don’t understand the joy of buying yourself new clothes because you never have to.”

He proudly concurs with a smug raise of his brows. “That’s true. I never have to.” It’s that attitude of his that always earns him a slap to his arm. But his fingers are playfully combing through your hair now, and you do not exactly hate the feeling. So you just let him, hoping nobody with a camera on his person ever sees this happening.

“Meanwhile, may I comment that the whole look you went for this morning is aptly low profile,” you tell him for the sake of saying something.

But what you say makes him tug at his training pants reflexively. “These?”

When he removes his cap, pulls down his mask, and appraises his outfit, you realise that he had just overlooked your sarcasm.

“Uh-huh. It totally pleads Don’t Stalk Me, Dispatch. I'm Not Park Chanyeol, I Promise.”

He chuckles. “It’s protection,” he reasons, completely getting rid of the cap and mask.

“Protection? From what? The sun?”

This time, it is you, genuinely not picking up on the joke – or pun – either way, you know that he spends quite a lot of time with his good friend Baekhyun who gives equally horrible punch lines. You have met the guy a few times and you are sure that the baffled look you had on your face is the exact same one you’re giving Chanyeol at the moment.

He seems to enjoy it. It takes him a few seconds to explain. “It’s protection from you.”

From me?

“Excuse you, but I’m the one who needs protecting!” You argue and it makes him grin from ear to ear. You realise that you had just given him the reaction he was hoping to get.

“No, you don’t,” he insists, “Based on last night’s phone call, you’re upset over your boyfriend. And do you know what you do when you’re upset, in general?”

“What?” Frankly, you know that you do a lot of things.

“You flail your arms around and hit people!” Chanyeol exclaims, and then he stretches his arms out and flaps them, trying to imitate how you’re supposed to look. It’s ridiculous how he is making it appear worse than it actually is. “You and your little man paws! Hitting innocent people all because your boyfriend made you cry again! It’s about time–””

“Yah! For the final time, Chanyeol, I am not a man! Also, must I tell you, he’s not my boyfriend anymore!”

“Shut it! You are one of us so that makes you a – wait, you… He… What?” There’s a bit of a delay, but in a snap, his energy drops, his eyes grow wide and your first point is now obviously abandoned.

“It’s what I said,” you clarify reluctantly. “And, my main point right now, please stop treating me like a guy, already!”

Chanyeol’s not hearing any of what you just said. His eyes remain on yours, searching for any hint of a lie.

He does not find one. “You’re saying… That YBN is not?? …Anymore?”

Again, the same reaction. It’s the same words, the same tone, the same look of caution and concern – it’s always the same questions every time you tell somebody new. All the repetitive explaining is starting to become more painful than the breakup itself. You hate it more than you can express. It makes you lose it for a moment and yell at your friend with careless regard for your surroundings. “You understood the first time! Why does everyone want me to spell it out?!”

That is when you realise that he is right. Your hands have a mind of their own.

“Yah! Yah! That’s what I’m talking about!” Chanyeol whines, using his forearm to fend off a jab that you were about to give him. Just as he had predicted. “Watch out because people around here will know who you’re hitting. Do that a few more times and you’ll be exposed. My fans won’t like it!”

You roll your eyes at his sudden mood shift after confirming your breakup. There’s no way you’re missing Chanyeol’s smile that is starting to inch in. He never really liked YBN. Now that you’ve broken up with the guy, you can already hear the satisfaction dripping in his voice when he delivers his much anticipated I told you so because this time, he’s right. You grumble, exceptionally annoyed, because of how right he is.

“Anywaaaay, back to why I need protecting… You’re right. He nearly hit me.”

And you wonder why Chanyeol’s pretty slow on the uptake this morning. He takes two seconds.

“What!?” Finally, his eyes nearly bug out of their sockets. He takes another second to shake his head from disbelief and then asks again. “He what?!”

This morning, Chanyeol’s a freaking cartoon. His aggravated expression seems out of place, given how much he has been confronting you about your now-ex-boyfriend’s alleged tendency towards violence. He saw it coming. Why is he so surprised? Your eyes roll.

“Relaaaaax. I’m more capable than I look. I started training for–”

“Stop that!” he interrupts, dismissing all humour from the situation. “He hit you?!” And he’s angry, possibly even more furious than your father had been. You certainly don’t remember doing anything that warranted any scolding. But here he is, getting all worked up while you stand your ground with hands in your pockets because you are starting to pick on your nails. Despite your nerves, you try to remain as calm as you could, and you are determined to make him realise that you’re not the enemy here.

“You’re not listening to me, Chanyeol! I said he nearly, and by nearly, I mean he missed. He punched the wall behind my face instead.”

You say it with a convincing smile, but Chanyeol still does not respond. He inhales sharply and looks up the sky, pulling his hair – what he does whenever he could not get his point across.

“But I’m kinda proud of myself, so thanks for asking twice,” you continue, still grinning at him and trying to keep it cool. You’re not about to just watch him blow up. Not now and certainly not here. An angry Chanyeol is not a fun Chanyeol. So you let the silence ensue as you watch him, whose eyes are still closed and is obviously putting in the effort, himself.

He fails.

“Fucking hell. Who hits a woman!?” All of a sudden, he starts to furiously rub his face against his palms until his nose turns pink. “Does he know who he’s messing with? Have you seen how small he stands beside me? I could crush him with–”

“Park Chanyeol!” You yell at him this time, because it is the only way to snap him out of it. “He messed with me. Not you. And I’ll remind you that you’re my dad’s student, not my bodyguard!”

“But I am also your friend!”

That had done it. He yells even louder, causing a dog to bark in the distance. It brings him back to the present, as you notice him consciously steal a side glance at the parking entrance, making sure nobody has come to watch the show.

When he sees that nobody’s there, he grumbles something incoherent. I’m a special friend, it sounded very much like. But he shakes his head again and promptly rephrases that. “Look, I am your good friend, first of all! I can’t believe you just freaking downgraded me!”

That you did. But that’s only because you think he’s getting too involved in this. You’ve let it go.

Why couldn’t he?

“You see, this is why I didn’t get to join your family’s dinner last Friday. Also, this is why I didn’t tell you over the phone! Look at you!”

He does. He realises that his hands are now impulsively clenched into fists at his sides, and his feet, apart, and planted to the ground as if he is preparing for a fight. With you.

“Calm down a little? I had enough testosterone when I told my dad about it last night,” you explain. You’re not about to let yourself get another round of scolding. This morning is all about recovery. “I promise I’m okay and I’ll feel even better when I get to shop for things I like!”

Your false eagerness seems to exasperate him even more. “Again, that’s a waste of money. You’ll surely buy clothes you won’t wear again!”

“How am I supposed to… Give me alternatives then!” you demand. He’s got way too much opinions any way.

But Chanyeol accepts his chance and then he goes, “Hm,” full of scrutiny, as if he has something better in mind. It turns out that he actually does. And by better, he means better by his standards. “How about I teach you how to throw a proper punch?”

“You mean, boxing?”

He nods.

And you think hell no. You eye him suspiciously, peering at him from under his cap that he had just placed on your head. “If this about making me a man, I swear to–”

“Come on, just come on! I’ll make it fun!” His mood seems to shift for good this time. “We can tape his face on the punching bag and you can pretend to be hitting him!”

“Nice try, but that only hurts my hands. It’ll make no difference,” you tell him, even though a part of you considers the idea an entertaining way to get over yourself already.

“It will, I promise. I’ll fund your next shopping spree if I don’t convince you.”

The suggestion gets you thinking even more. It’s not a bad deal, is it? You bite the bullet and Chanyeol sees that he’s got the upper hand. You both smile. “Any more benefits?” you ask. And his response comes as a reflex. “That, and I’ll make sure your punches reach him through me.”

“Park Chanyeol!”

“Hahaha! I’m just kidding!” Chanyeol promises, playfully holding his fists out in front of you. You don’t quite miss that devious smirk. “Or am I?”

💙💙💙

- end -

#chanyeol #chanyeol scenarios #park chanyeol #exo scenarios #exo #park chanyeol scenarios #exo fanfiction #kpop scenarios #chanyeol scenario

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fly-pow-bye · 6 years

Text

Powerpuff Girls 2016 - “Not So Secret Service”

Written by: Jake Goldman

Written & Storyboarded by: Kyle Neswald, Benjamin P. Carow

Directed by: Nick Jennings, Bob Boyle

Not so great service, more like.

According to Cartoon Network US's website, this is the first episode of Season 3. However, it aired in other countries as a Season 2 episode. The confusion only starts here, because there's also Aliver and Never Been Blissed, both of which aired as Season 2 episodes over here and will be Season 3 episodes everywhere else. I am going with the US order, because the show is made in the US, I'm in the US, and I already reviewed both Aliver and Never Been Blissed.

And now, the delayed first review of a Season 3 episode, and it already starts off with some excitement, as the Powerpuff Girls are beating each other up!

In a video game. The Powerpuff Girls are playing what is essentially a robot version of Mortal Kombat. The robots, under the command of a surprisingly bloodthristy Blossom and a not-so-surprisingly bloodthirsty Buttercup, continue to do Fatality moves on each other, the robots apparently reforming themselves after every one.

Buttercup: Prepare for the battle axe! (red one cuts the blue one open)

Blossom: Here comes the organ shredder! (blue one twin-saws the other one in half)

Bubbles: Send them home...in pieces! (red one turns into a bomb and blows up the whole screen)

The joke is that the Powerpuff Girls aren't normally like this.

The Professor decides to be the responsible adult, and tells the girls to stop playing the game because it's too violent for them. He then leaves, deciding that doing anything to prevent these kids from being desensitized, like looking at that little letter on the box that tells you not to give this to your kids, is just too much for him. Blossom is confused by this, but not in a way I would think.

Blossom: Why does the Professor not want us to play it? It's not like it's going to make us violent in real life!

Perish the thought: the video game might inspire the Powerpuff Girls to actually be violent in this reboot! I take that back, I hope they continue playing! As soon as the hotline rings, they learn that Discount Jojo is in the Mayor's office. Apparently all hyped up on those non-age-appropriate robot fighting games, they decide to start the carnage!

They break into the City Hall, and decide to punch first and ask questions later in a psychadelic slideshow beatdown. Before Buttercup can drop the Mayor's desk on him, the Mayor skateboards into the scene, totally not to save a few dollars on walk cycles, to tell Buttercup he called for the Powerpuff Girls to help Jojo.

Buttercup: Help him out of his misery? Okay!

Okay, that's a line from Samurai Jack, but what a missed opportunity. Instead, Buttercup gets to lament that she rarely gets to hit anyone with a desk. It turns out even the characters are sick and tired of the lack of actual fighting in the reboot.

The Mayor explains that, despite being a supervillain, he's still technically a citizen of Townsville, and is therefore eligible for the Townsville's People's Protection Program, or "T Triple-P" for short. Because he's cool with the cool kids, you see?

With an old-timey film, the Mayor explains how it works: if someone is in trouble, a superhero will come to protect him or her. Apparently, superheroes always existed in Townsville, because this is all in Townsville's Constitution, along with a law that states that only real cowboys can dress in a cowboy outfit. My first guess was those Discount Jojo Cowboy jokes from Deb O'Nair was so bad, they needed a constitutional amendment to prevent them from happening again...

...but it's just so Bubbles can decide that now is the time to put on a cowgirl outfit and act like a cowgirl for a decent chunk of the episode, complaining that everything she wants to do is illegal. It's a running gag that is completely forgotten halfway through the episode. It should have been forgotten when it came up, really.

What did Discount Jojo do to need this help?

We go to a flashback, where Discount Jojo has created the ultimate super-weapon: a robot made out of a cardboard box and two giant machine guns that fire lasers. See, that's the difference between TV-Y7-FV and TV-14; this robot can have big machine guns, but as long as it fires lasers instead of bullets, it's A-OK!

The robot learns who is Jojo's worst enemy, and it happens. The screen even shows a reference to the original Powerpuff Girls, the reboot assuming that anyone familiar with that show is still watching it. I wouldn't give that a high probability. The show decides that he needs some motivation to destroy the Powerpuff Girls, even though we didn't need one before. With this Box-Droid, he will win an Evil Award for Best Mad Scientist.

Without it, he will lose to a man we have never heard or even seen before this episode, will not show up after this scene, and we’ll probably never see again. I would tell you his name, but there's no point. He tries to throw something at this picture, and it bounces right back in his face, causing him to call himself his own worst enemy. The robot took it literally, and that's how this situation happened.

The Powerpuff Girls are, of course, not big fans of this. They answer every excuse for them to not take care of Discount Jojo.

They bring up that Discount Jojo admitted that he wanted to murder his would-be saviors, but the Mayor simply doesn't care.

The Powerpuff Girls can't stop the robot, because the robot is apparently a master of disguise, leading to another running gag where the robot dresses up like an ordinary person, rather poorly, and asks around where Discount Jojo is. It's an attempt, to say the least.

How are they going to get Jojo past the Professor? For some reason, they decided to consider that an issue. Well, it gets solved in a very expected way for our good old Sitcom Dad...

They dress him up as a cousin named Johann. The Professor buys it, because the plot wouldn't work otherwise. It's kind of a shame, really; it would have been somewhat interesting to see the Professor live with his former lab assistant, but...

(ding!)

Professor: Ooh, Peach Cobbler!

Said peach cobbler ends up taking him out of the entire episode. I guess they couldn't find anything else for the silly dad character to do. He doesn't even come back to resolve that all important "violent video games" plot; it just barely comes up again right at the end of the episode.

This appears to be the setup of a good episode, and in the original, it was. There was an episode called Child Fearing, where Mojo Jojo ends up being the Powerpuff Girls' babysitter.

This reboot takes it in a different direction, because Discount J, er, Johann is the one that going to be annoying to the girls. Johann decides to take every advantage he can. Stealing a meatloaf patty from Buttercup, and immediately spitting it out because he only wanted the flavor. I swear they stole that joke from somewhere.

He then decides he's tired, and decides to steal the Powerpuff Girls' bed...and Octi, too! He also screams in the middle of his sleep. This seems like something they just added to make him the most annoying person ever, but I could imagine he's dreaming about the times the Powerpuff Girls beat him up to a pulp. If only that was even implied.

The next morning, the Powerpuff Girls are exhausted. Johann makes them some of his famous pancakes! Buttercup wonders if they're poisoned, but she decides to try it anyway. In a surprising twist...

...it was so good, we needed stock footage to show how amazing it was. He also fixes up Octi and cleans the curtains he dirtied up from before, winning Bubbles and Blossom's respect. See kids, let that villain who wants to kil, er, destroy you in your house; sure, he'll dirty up the place, be an awful snorer, and will steal your meatloaf and/or toys, but he'll make good pancakes! What a great lesson.

After Johann shows his positive side, we immediately get a parody of sitcom openings. If it was done in a more superhero way, I can see how it could be clever, but it's just...it's the Powerpuff Girls and Discount Jojo, and there's a bear in one shot. Okay, there is one particular thing that reminds me of Discount Jojo's character: Johann puts on a princess costume! At least it’s not the only joke this time, but still, that’s a bad reminder of how his character used to be in this reboot.

It even ends with an exterior shot of the Powerpuff home with sitcom music, which is how they sometimes open real episodes of the reboot. This could have been the start of a huge parody of sitcoms if this was done near the beginning of the episode. Alas, they wasted all of that time on the useless Bubbles jokes.

Johann immediately decides to leave the room and run away from the house and protection program. The very thought of becoming friends of his worst enemies is sickening to him. Compared to Princess's near face-turn, turning into a friend because he makes good waffles would be a major step down.

He then encounters the robot, who, due to a visit to a library in his stints of trying to blend in with society, found out that "my own worst enemy" is just a figure of speech. After an evil genius-robot hug, Discount Jojo decides to finally destroy those Powerpuff Girls with this strong robot made of cardboard. Surprisingly, the Powerpuff Girls don't do their usual plan of just standing there waiting to get lasered, because there's less than a minute left!

The Powerpuff Girls immediately eye-laser it. In fact, this is one of the same moves done in the video game, in the only real book end that plot had. An aesop about violent video games would seem hypocritical in a show where superheroic girls beat the stuffing out of people; it's kind of funny how violent video games actually helped out in the end!

In response to this, Discount Jojo has two different expressions at the same time. Clearly, an artistic way to show the duality of Discount Jojo’s feelings of the situation...and the fact that the people who animate the show have stopped caring.

Amazingly enough, they then beat up Discount Jojo in another psychedelic slideshow beatdown. They even drop an entire desk on him, much to Buttercup's delight. That is one book end I do not mind. Too bad I had a lot to "mind" about this episode.

Does the title fit?

This is more Witness Protection Program than Secret Service. Also, it apparently is a secret, since they have to keep the Professor from knowing its Discount Jojo. Maybe it's "not-so" because it only seems to be an issue for about 25 seconds of the episode.

How does it stack up?

I could see why Cartoon Network US sat on this one. This episode can't decide what it wants to be. An anti-video game episode, a "silly monkey" episode, a "Jojo being terrible" episode, a "Jojo being good" episode, a sitcom parody, an action-packed episode, and, at best, any of those ideas are excuted poorly, and at worst, not at all. While this isn't the worst Discount Jojo episode, I just couldn't get into this.

Next, the Fashionistas are back!

← Aliver ☆ Worship →

#fpb ppg 2016 #ppg 2016 #powerpuff girls #cartoon network #fpb reviews

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