#love.. respect... we have something a lil bit wrong. a lil bit off. in our goddamn brains. & suddenly we don't deserve those bc fuck us

[metamorphosisff]

|Chapter 12| There Is Rain

(Gif credit: @xo-tough-love-xo )

Sweat poured down my face as I finally finished my set of Bulgarian squats. Dropping the seventy pound dumbbells in each hand, I stood up and wiped my face with the bottom of my shirt. As I went to grab my water bottle, I caught Aiden’s stare.

“What bro? I did fifteen,” I said.

Waving me off, he said, “Question.”

The look on his face let me know that I would soon regret giving him the go ahead for his foolishness but I motioned for him to continue as I took a few sips of water.

“Been around any vampires lately?” he cracks, causing me to almost spit my water out.

“Bro, what is your problem?” I chuckle.

“Nothing, I’m just saying. Looking like you willingly offered yourself up. Whore,” Aiden said.

I couldn’t help the snort that escaped as we both busted out into laughter. I wasn’t someone who kissed and told but as I was rushing to get here on time, I didn’t realize there was evidence left behind. If I did, I would have worn a different shirt.

“Something like that,” I say. In a flash I see Mila on my bed spread before me, eyes wanton, chest flushed a vibrant hue of red.

There.

Here?

Yesss.

My reverie is interrupted by Aiden hitting me in the face with a balled up towel.

“Unnecessary,” I said, tossing it back, though he side steps being hit by it.

“Necessary as hell. You ain’t about to be reliving your lil sexcapade in front of me. We close but never will be that close,” Aiden said with a laugh, as he went over to pick up the weights for his turn. “Who is she.”

It no longer felt right to call Mila just my friend but it was hard to describe what we were becoming. If it were Rah asking me this question, I might have a better answer but since it was Aiden, I kept it simple. “Someone I care about,” I reply.

“One you don’t care about people, you be in love. Two, good, tired of you being sad and mopey. Three, you are a shit wingman so you better make her your girlfriend. You ain’t for the streets for real,” Aiden jokes, as he does his set without nearly the amount of struggle I did. 

“Man it’s not my fault you don’t have no game and you're right about that, I’m not for the streets. I want more than falling in and out of beds,” I said, with a shrug.

“Like I said, you be in love and ain’t nothing wrong with that. So what’s her name?” he asked.

“It’s Jamila and it’s too soon for the love word, so chill,” I replied. The last time I thought I was in love that turned out not to be the case.

“Look at you blushing and shit. Lying ass,” he chuckled, dropping the weights.

“Respect that I don’t want to give your nosey ass any details right now. Just know that she’s different,” I said.

“She better be. The last thing you need is another Mariah,” he said.

“Nah, I learned that lesson, trust me,” I said with a shake of my head. Being with Mila was like breathing with the full capacity of my lungs. I didn’t have to hesitate to be myself because everything I said mattered to her. It was a freedom that had been sorely missing from my life until now.

“Only took the rest of your twenties and eight months of walking around looking like an extra for a Jagged Edge video,” he said, causing me to snort.

“Dawg, I can’t fucking stand you sometimes,” I said, as laughter consumed us both.

This was the closest of a heart to heart we would have because Aiden didn’t do feelings. All he cared about was whether or not we were happy and how he could show up when we weren’t. That alone is why no matter how bad he got on my nerves I would always call him my best friend.

With most of my free time being split between watching over Granddad and hanging out with Mila, it had been almost a week since I had been by my parents house. After the hectic nature of the previous one, I needed some space. I think we all did as Veronica opted to spend last weekend at my apartment versus at home with our parents. She was a bit out of sorts after seeing our father collapse which was understandable. We had been having to face mortality a lot recently and she wasn’t even eighteen yet. When I walked in the house, I could hear her and her friends in the backyard most likely practicing tumbling. I’d give my greetings to them later and continue to let them have their fun undisturbed. Kicking my shoes off and placing them in the cubby in the foyer, I padded my way to the living room where I heard the TV on. Sitting in an armchair, looking like the spitting image of Granddad, was Pops.

“Hey Xay,” he greeted, as I walked over to him to slap hands. Like his father, he wasn’t overly affectionate to anyone other than my mother and sister. When I was ten, I came up with a handshake which became our thing. “Glad you stopped by. Your mother has me cooped up in here.”

“She’s just trying to look out for you. Doctor said you’ll be able to do light exercises next week though,” I said, as I took a seat on the couch.

“She’s feeding me rabbit food,” he deadpanned, causing me to chuckle at the exaggeration.”I might not make it that long.”

“Pops,” I said, shaking my head. “Too soon for death jokes.”

“Sorry but it’s how I feel. You know I don’t like being idle,” he said.

“You're not being idle, you’re recovering from a traumatic health event. I think that warrants some down time,” I said, for what had to be the twentieth time. There was something about getting older that made the adults in my life turn mulish in nature. They were less inclined to listen to reason and only wanted to do what they wanted while not taking account of the better options.

He nodded his head while picking up the remote. “You trying to watch this Yankee’s game with me?”

“Sure.”

I leaned back against the couch as he turned to the YES channel. While we watched the game, mom flittered back and forth, making sure Pops was taking his medication on schedule and bringing snacks. I was haphazardly picking pistachios out of my napkin of trail mix when Pops called my name.

“Yes sir,” I replied, looking over at him.

“We just struck out Boston’s best hitter and you didn’t have anything to say. What’s on your mind son?” Pops asked.

He was right. I couldn’t recall anything from this game because I had been trapped in my mind trying to figure out how I wanted to broach the subject of our relationship. However, like there would never be a perfect time, there weren’t going to be perfect words either.

“Honestly, I’m vacillating between being concerned about your well being and pissed about your lack of respect for me,” I said, sitting the napkin down on the coffee table.

“Well since your concern has been duly noted, let’s address the latter. What makes you think I don’t respect you?” Pops asked, as he sat up a bit straighter. A sign that he was actively listening to what I had to say.

Scrunching my face I said, “You did when you insinuated that I wanted to shirk my responsibilities to Granddad and tied that assumption to my character as a man.”

“Xay, I know dealing with Granddad isn’t easy but we are his family, and looking after another is what we do. A man looks after his family, come hell or high water, not passes those responsibilities over. I know you don’t have a family of your own yet but you would want your kids to do the same for you. Hell I want you to do the same for me if it ever comes to it and I’m not sure you will,” Pops said.

“What?” I said, with a raised brow. “How can you even say that shit to me with a straight face? I go above and beyond for this family.”

“Doing what is expected of you isn’t going above and beyond. It’s your duty,” Pops said.

“That’s semantics. Either way I show up, which is more than you can say.  I have a question for you, what’s the name of Granddad’s primary doctor? His neurologist? His physical therapist? Huh?” I asked.

“I don’t see-

“Yeah you don’t!” I said cutting him off. “You don’t see shit. You barely see how not easy it is dealing with your father, the man you supposed to take care of as the oldest of his children! So what kind of man that make you?”

Pop's face darkens with anger as he points a finger in my direction. “And who’s paying for those special doctors? Those medications? Not the V.A., I’ll tell you that. Who is paying the taxes on the house? The car? That’s the kind of man that makes me. I’m doing my part, I’m asking you to continue to do yours.”

“It’s easy to do your part when all it consists of is writing a check. You not getting cursed at and beat on when he can’t remember where he is in the middle of the night. You not getting called every name but your own. You not seeing the bruises on GiGi that he leaves when me, Chase or Ryan are not there,” I said, standing up, my anger roiling too much to remain seated. The feeling made me antsy so I slowly began pacing on the side of the coffee table.

“What?” Pops recoiled, sinking back against the chair. “What bruises? What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that you letting your mother, children, nieces, and nephews get beat on by a person who doesn’t even exist anymore. We take it because we love him too but it’s not right. None of us are trained medical professionals! We all work, we all tired, we all got shit going on but none of that is considered because of your idealization of what a man is supposed to be? Let me clue you in, a man should know how to make the correct decisions for his family. Not put them through hell because of their pride,” I spat out.

The more I thought about his inconsideration the more vexed I became. All of the frustration I had previously swallowed was churning in the base of my throat. The acid was on the tip of my tongue but I was trying my best not to blow up. Trying my best not to slip back into the angry child he knew me to be growing up because then he really wouldn’t listen to me. He would accuse me of being emotional and dismiss everything I said in one fell swoop.

“You think my reasoning is about pride?” Pops said, standing to his feet as well. “Let me tell you something boy, everything I do is because it was what I was told to do. When your grandfather first started losing his memory, he knew it was only a matter of time. He made me swear to keep the house and him in it! He trusted me to do right by him and that’s what I’m going to do. He wanted to be at home with his family until the end so that is where he will be.”

“That was before he knew his disease would make him violent,” I said, taking a deep breath. “That changes things.”

“It does, I’ll look into getting an overnight nurse at the house. I didn’t know he was hitting GiGi,” Pops said, putting his hands on his hips. 

“But you knew he was hitting us. Why wasn’t that enough for you to make this decision when this behavior first started?” I asked, squinting my eyes in confusion. 

“By the time I was your age, I had been hit more times than I can count. What doesn’t kill you will make you stronger,” Pops said, waving my question away. He stood with his shoulders squared, no regret written anywhere in his countenance. 

“So because you suffered, I should? That’s your logic,” I chuckled darkly. “The crazy part is you don’t even realize how fucked up you sound.”

“I’m not going to apologize for looking after my family and trying to raise you right,” Pops said.

“I’m not asking you too, I’m asking for you to apologize for failing at it. I didn’t go to Rikers for no reason,” I said.

Indignified, he steps closer to me and I keep my eyes on him as he eliminates the space between us.  “Now, that was your own mistake. You and you alone decided to go joy riding in somebody else's car. Your mother and I gave you everything and you almost pissed it away being careless. Don’t you dare put that shit on me,” he said, pushing his finger into my chest. 

“Yeah it was my mistake but what do you think pushed me into making it? Your constant threat of signing me up for the army actually made prison more appealing. Not something you ever considered huh father of the year?” I questioned, causing his eyes to go wide at the confession before settling into a slant.

“Hey now, what’s going on in here? Why are y’all yelling in my house?” Ma asked, walking into the living room but Pops held his hand up signaling for her not to come any closer. 

“See that’s what I mean right there, you always want a loophole around hardships or something you don’t like,” Pops said, twisting my words.

“No, because I’ve been through plenty of hardships. I want a father who loves me for who I am and not what he wants me to be but fuck that,” I said, slapping my chest for emphasis.

“Your father does love you sweetheart. Come, let’s have a seat, this has gotten out of hand and we need to take a beat,” Ma says softly, inching closer to us.

“Mom is right. As my first born, I didn’t know what my heart looked like until you got here, so don’t be mistaken Xavier. I will love you every day until I leave this Earth and even after but I’m struggling to like you at this moment,” Pops said, his tone full of steel as he takes a few steps back from me, hands on his hips. 

“Alex Taylor!” Ma gasps, shaking her head, as her eyes shift wildly between us both. Words that have been ten years in the making have been purged for what seems like no reason. He still didn’t see me, maybe he never did, and maybe he never will.

Nodding my head, I grabbed my phone from the coffee table. “Likewise.” I place a kiss on my mother’s forehead and move before she can pull me into a hug. The action hurts her but I can’t be touched right now. “I’ll call you Ma. Tell V, I’m sorry I couldn’t stay long.”

With that, I stalk out of the house, the front door slamming behind me. Music still pours from the backyard and I’m grateful my sister didn’t have to bear witness to that ugliness. My legs carry me several blocks away from the house. I’m walking in hopes to calm myself down but it’s not working. This isn’t the kind of anger that burns off. It’s the kind that makes you feel as if you are breaking into a million pieces. I don’t feel like trying to collect the fragments either. Reaching into my pocket, I call the one person who can make me feel something besides this darkness. The call is connected on the first ring. She takes one look at my reddened face and spares me from having to spill my guts with one question.

“You trying to lose at UNO?”

“AYE YOU CHEATING.”

“No I’m not, we agreed to stacking,” I laughed, as Papi looked across the table at my empty hands with nothing but disbelief. In a matter of seconds I had changed the course of game night between the trio when I won my first and then second, and third round of the card games. Mila was happy for my wins because the mother and son duo had been beating her for the previous hour they had been playing.

“Take your L Papi,” Mila said.

“Vengeance will be mine,” Papi says, reaching for the cards to reshuffle but Mari stops him.

“It will be yours another day. We’re going to the movies,” Mari said.

“We are?” he asks with confusion wrinkling his brow but I knew what Mari was doing. Although I came in smiling and was cracking jokes, my energy was off. Even Papi noticed because he was being nice for once. 

“Yes we are. Say goodbye,” Mari said, standing up from the floor where she had been sitting.

Papi made quick work of wrapping his arms around Mila. She gave his curls a playful tug as he held out his fist in my direction.

“See you little man,” I said, bumping his fist with mine. 

“You coming to my game on Friday?” Papi asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” I said. I know it was a big deal for him to ask me, that meant in some way he was accepting me into his orbit.

“You weren’t going to invite me?” Mila asked.

“You always come. Didn’t think I had to ask anymore,” Papi says with a shrug.

“Fair point,” Mila concedes with a smirk.

“Thanks y’all,” Mari smiled. It meant a lot to her to have Papi feel supported and having an extra person to help with that was appreciated. “Boy, bring yourself.”

“Bye y’all, have fun,” Mila said, watching as they bounded out of the apartment. 

Once the door clicks shut I waste no time, pulling Mila across the couch, and settling her into my lap. I push my face into the crook of her neck and inhale deeply, she smells of jasmine and something warmer. Something uniquely her that makes me press a kiss there. Her arms wrap tightly around my shoulders and that’s how we remain for a while. The only sound that can be heard is the show Papi insisted we watch from the tv. I listen to her heartbeat and let it lull me into some semblance of peace. Her fingers trail gingerly across the nape of my neck, moving in small circles. I let the power of her presence subdue the remnants of my frustration. Nuzzling my nose against her skin caused her to hold me tighter.

“You hungry?” she asks after some time.

“Not really,” I replied.

“When’s the last time you ate?” she asked and it apparently took me too long to come up with the answer by the indication of her sucking her teeth. “I’m going to heat you up some pizza and wings. You go wash up. I cleaned your clothes from last time you were here this morning. They are in the chair in my room.”

“Aight, thank you,” I said, retreating from my hiding spot to give her a kiss.

“Nothing to thank me for, go,” she says, kissing me once more before hopping out of my lap so that I can stand. She turns and heads to the kitchen before I can tell her how untrue that is. I shake my head and head to the bathroom knowing how she feels about compliments. One day I was going to tell her about all the ways she made my life better by just being herself. For now, I’d let her think she was slick.

After my shower, she beckons me outside to the small balcony that’s attached to the living room by way of a sliding door. There’s enough space for a chaise and a black cocktail table which our plates rest on. It’s still warm out but the breeze makes it one of the nicer summer nights. As soon as I sit, she hands me a plate. I express my gratitude with a forehead kiss that she blushes at. 

“Are we talking about it or ignoring it?” she asks softly once I’ve eaten half of my food.

“Ignoring for now,” I said, finishing off a wing and looking over at her. “It took a fifty minute Uber ride and seven games of UNO for me to reach the level of calm I’m currently on.”

“Understandable. I don’t need the details to tell you that I’m proud of you and that your braveness is something I admire,” she says, causing my heart to skip a beat.

“I dunno, I’m feeling more foolish than brave,” I said, wiping my hands on a napkin.

A part of me knew the conversation with my father would go left and I had been prepared for that. What I wasn’t prepared for was how deep his need to regulate everything was. I walked in hoping to demand his respect and left wondering why I had wanted it in the first place. He claimed to love me but purposely let me struggle for almost two years to teach me some sort of lesson. Even when I brought up how he failed me he stood in a chamber of ego refusing to let it be chinked with the truth. 

“That’s the risk of vulnerability. No matter how long it may take you, you find a way to express yourself which is the bravest thing any of us can do in the face of rejection or disappointment. I want to be fearless in that way too, I’m trying to be at least,” she said, with a nervous laugh. 

Grabbing her by the waist, I placed her in my lap for the second time this evening needing to have her closer. Her long limbs wrap around me, securing our embrace. 

“You are and it’s beautiful,” I said, kissing her cheek. She was on the cusp of finding her purpose. I considered myself blessed to be able to witness the journey. “I don’t express myself to be brave, I do it to be heard. A side effect of being a military brat I suppose but I won’t lie and say it doesn’t feel good to hear you say that.”

“Either way, you do it, and that’s something,” she said, staring into my eyes warmly. Underneath the glow of the streetlight I’m bathed in her spirit. It’s a balm that lays over the rough parts of today so that I can make it into tomorrow. 

After a moment of openly gaping at one another, she pressed her lips to mine. I kissed her back, tangling my hands in her braids, and chose to get lost in her versus continuing this particular line of conversation. It may be something but that something had not been enough to get my father to hear me. So it was no longer worth lamenting over.

As if she can feel my thoughts traveling outside of this moment, she pulls away from our kiss, to flick the tip of my nose with her tongue.

“Why?” I questioned, as I began to tickle her sides. She squeals as she tries to escape but can’t due to the hold I have on her. The sound of her laughter evokes my smile.

“I regret nothing,” she laughs, as she leans in to do it again. “Now finish eating so we can go start the second Captain America movie because I need to see the full scene of them jumping Tony.”

Tilting my head back, I pinch the bridge of my nose as I groan. “Stooppp watching MCU compilations on Tik Tok.”

#metamorphasisff #slow burn romance #Black Fiction #black romance

[castle-dominion]

c4x19 47 seconds

The protest bomb ep

heck yeah! Let's go protestors! Mum & lil bro thought this was an episode of Arrow at first

She's lucky there are no swears

Cool how he kno-- wait ringo was the drummer for the beatles, not this guy's name

She got anxious there bc the filming was just a bit later than she expected bc of the drummer

heck yeah!

FUCK NO

Love how the camera one was shocked for a sec but immediately started filming again

"if you've just tuned in" girl it has been like three seconds since the explosion & six seconds since you went live

Ah, her face, she did not expect people to be injured

Oof all these injured people here.

wait is that the mime? Poor fellow there.

there is still fire here?

five dead is a LOT... 28 injured, depending how bad they might still die. Why was it so bright earlier & now so dark?

Good on her, no comment, deal with press relations

Did she somewho she recognized?

Ooh the music today.

She actually listens to someone tell her she, nypd, is not allowed to enter the crime scene, which is under control of the fbi? Wowie.

I hope they get both lanie & perlmutter (& possibly slaughter's mortician girl & alexis) here looking at bodies.

Castle looks so shocked & sad.

Ok on the outfits, castle is wearing typical castle garb & looks hot as always, beckett has a nice grey turtleneck, ryan & esposito have coats & I can't see them v well rn but I like their coats & outfits rn so yeah. grey detective-looking jacket for ryan, black collar-up for espt it looks like. I'll give another update later.

Could still be a suicide bomber but with like a briefcase bomb not a vest bomb. Also who is your medic friend? I need character names & faces!

VG, someone whom I actually respect: Listen up, people! We're still piecing together what happened here, but what I can tell you – FBI and Homeland Security will be taking point on this investigation. [Beckett looks disappointed & esposito & ryan kind of follow suit.] NYPD will act in a support capacity. Our first assignment is to determine if any of the victims were targeted because of their involvement in the protest. Uniforms are bringing families to the precinct as we speak, so…let's go hold some hands and do our jobs.

"To sin by silence when we should protest makes…cowards of men."

Heck man, look at ryan's jacket! Squares!

Dang, they were tourists..? That's honestly rly sad. & they were planning on starting a family...

[04:03, INT. PRECINCT, BREAK ROOM - DAY]

[Castle stares out the window ((btw wearing a leather dress jacket)); Beckett approaches him from behind.] ((he is not interviewing anyone, he is not excited over the case... this is something))

KB: You good?

RC: Yeah. Yeah, it's just this case, you know? It kind of gets to you. How'd it go with the rest of the families?

KB: Um, one victim was the first kid in his family to go to college, and the other was a mother of two, so… about like you'd expect. No one seems to have been targeted, though. ((How many people? We have the recruiter, the tourist, the college student, & the mom. that is only 4, who is the other dead victim?))

RC: So their deaths were random. You know, most of our victims they…they die for a reason. You know, there's a logic behind it. It's a twisted logic at times, but…at least it makes some kind of sense.

KB: Yeah, but in this case, these people were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

RC: And their future and all their plans, everything is just gone in a flash. ((pUNintended))

[Beckett and Castle gaze at one another.]

KB: It makes you think about all those things in your own life that you don't want to put off anymore.

[Castle's mouth opens as he takes Beckett's meaning. Esposito enters, interrupting their confession of love.]

he says "troops" & I thought that was a colloquial term, just smth he said abt ppl congregating, but it could be actually the term for them.

I love how they show a clip of the bomb going off there. Good choice by the editor or whoever made that choice. I can't see it v well though & Ithought slowing it down I might be able to see more of it

OK SO: the reason I got into unus annus was bc during the protests in what, april, possibly may of 2020, I saw protest information including what it was like to get pepper sprayed, I saw the unus annus pepper spray video. Pepper spray sucks. They say to use milk but water is better (tho an acidic dairy product might help), however, be sure to wash AWAY from your eyes.

I bring this up because the fbi recovered a photo from one of the protestor's phones.

Do Not take photos! Don't include faces! Cover up any scars or tattoos, wear nondescript clothes. Turn off your phone's GPS, data, & wifi. In fact, turn off your phone entirely, only turn it on if you need to make an emergency call.

If a pig throws in a can of tear gas, you can cover it with a pylon & douse it with water.

Do Not wear suction swim goggles, if you get hit with a rubber bullet or even just thrown to the ground too hard, you can pop out an eye.

If you wear contact lenses: do not wear them if there is a risk of tear gas or pepper spray.

If you wear glasses: only wear them if you really need them, try to wear the most nondescript frames you have.

If you use mobility aides, use the nondescript ones, not the cane you personalized with stickers. If you use a wheelchair but can also use a walker/rollator, go for the rollator. You can still sit on it if you need to, but it is safer. If you do use a wheelchair, cover up the logo & anything you did to personalize it. I highly recommend using push-handle spikes to prevent people from moving you without consent. Hell on wheels is a business that sells them suited for your needs. You can get a pair that can be removed easily if you do need someone to push. Be aware, if rubber bullets are a risk, your mobility aid could be damaged.

& I repeat, do not take photos of protestors, I know it was a "good" thing in castle, but usually if the feds want photos of a protestor's phone, it is not good.

My question is though: why did they take a pic of where the bomb would have been?

47 seconds is a short zone, usually you have like a two hour kill zone

lots of names on the list wow.

Love the diagram on the board!

How did they get the names of all the ppl there tho? The injured ones maybe, but the ones who were just there? They would have run, they would refuse to give their names to pigs.

Holy moly only on the second intro rn! I have to go to work in an hour & a half!

Corinne: Do I look like I'm in the 99 percent?

Me: Uh, kind of. Do you have over 11 100 000 dollars?

Flashbacks are a good decision for this kind of stationary episode. (lol, really is stationary, they are in the station.) Like, even Castle is technically not in the top 1%, his net worth is like 4mil. There is a difference between rich-because-I-work-36-hour-shifts-as-a-surgeon-but-I-never-get-to-enjoy-my-mansion-because-I'm-at-work-all-the-time, inheritance-rich, rich-because-I'm-an-author-&-not-the-starving-artist-kind, & rich-because-I-commit-massive-wage-theft-on-all-the-employees-beneath-me. Now of course you can be hella rich, but the top 1% is about three standard deviations away from the mean. ofc statistics are probs wrong here. there is a wage GAP, not a nice bell curve. Anyway, you probably ARE within the 99%, just the rich side of it.

Good guy wearing a gas mask. There's the hoodie guy. There's the drummer.

Oh & btw you can LOOK at stuff online & buy them irl or vice versa. When buying my knives, I was told to go to a knife shop & test out the ones they had, find what I liked, & then buy it cheap online.

Box guy, "that's mine," spilled coffee

If he was carrying a bomb of course he'd look nervous & sweaty. Just like how the other dirty bomb the guy was calm bc he didn't know it was a bomb.

WEST SIDE WALLY! THE MAN IS BACK! Westside is one of my fave recurring characters.

(espt why do you look so weird when he says to call him westside.)

Johnny Law lmao

Love his sign. Will work protest for food. He is The Best.

Beethoven?

JE: Stop. Let me understand this. You…you saw Beethoven, [Ryan looks to the side on concern] the composer who's been dead for 200 years, in the plaza this afternoon?

WSW: Oh, yeah. And I bet that half-dead bastard is behind all this.

[Ryan clears his throat.]

KR: West Side, are you on any medications of any kind?

WSW: I don't see how that's relevant.

it's probably that he is NOT on medication lol. or hungry & dehydrated.

Man looks familiar. I swear tho, he's going to be real, not just west side's imagination.

You know, westside would look really good if they trimmed his beard, he's a really good looking actor.

Oh no, not more bomb threats...

RC: It's like trying to find Waldo in a sea of Waldos.

prioritizing interviews is a great idea.

RC: You know, the witnesses that were closest to the bomb aren't on our list. ((oof he right))

KB: *looks at him to continue*

RC: Maybe dead men do tell tales.

Jesse Freidman? More like Jesse fried-man eyo! Sorry that was distasteful. He wasn't even fried, he died in an explosion from blunt force trauma, not the fire of the explosion.

Oh poor alexis.

Except that Dr Parish said alexis needed to get stuff done. Lanie might say the same thing but Dr Parish said to get the personal effects done. You should at least talk to the staff & ask if you can take her home & let beckett know you're taking alexis home & staying, not talking to alexis for a minute like you implied when you said you needed a minute.

K but the film clips don't seem like they were what they were at the beginning of the episode

MR: Honey, do you ever wonder why I never visited you at the precinct the first year you were working there?

RC: I always thought it was because of the harsh lighting.

MR: (chuckles) Well, that was a consideration. No, I thought if I—if I saw you acting like a cop, I'd start thinking of you as a cop, and I just…whew. That—that brought on all manner of nightmares.

RC: How did you get over it?

MR: Eventually, you realize, your children are gonna make choices you don't like. Just a fact of life. ((this made my mom hug me so tight))

RC: Well, if the bombing proves anything, it's that bad things can happen no matter what you do. Nobody's tomorrow is guaranteed.

((In Cree the word for tomorrow is "IF the sun rises tomorrow" which implies that we don't KNOW that the sun will rise tomorrow, we just have FAITH that it will. wapaki. Edit: see the rest of this comment after the quote))

[Martha raises her eyebrows.]

MR: So…how do you plan to act on this realization?

RC: What do you mean?

MR: Oh, you know what I mean. Richard, how much longer are you gonna drag your heels before you tell Beckett how you feel?

[Castle shifts uncomfortably.]

MR: And I mean, while she is awake, not lying on the ground with a bullet in her chest.

((Wapaki comment, continued: I actually spell it wapaké bc that's how I was initially taught to pronounce it but other ppl say wapagi bc in cree k/g, t/d, n/ng, p/b, s/sh, & ts/ch are all both kind of considered the same. Ojibwe has different spellings but similar words: pimohte means walk, bimo'tee I think is it in ojibwe, & ojibwe is an anishinabe language so I saw an anishinabe word that meant "walk in a good way" & at first I didn't understand a thing, but then I saw the relation to the ojibwe word & I related it back to Cree. Languages are so cool. You know, I thought celtic languages would be removed from romance languages, I thought they might have a bit of german influence, but slainta means health in gaelgie (irish gaelic) & sante is health in french. That's the only relation I can remember rn but I think there was one more that I learned of recently.))

Martha is so right. I love her with all mu heart.

they are in LOVE!

RYAN NO YOU ALSO INTERRUPTED THEIR LOVE CONFESSION ACH (at least ryan is pretty)

castle it cannot wait until after the case, you never know if you have a tomorrow

This is why you turn off your gps.

That is a damn good friend!

Where did they get the audio from?

Andrew Haynes

I don't think he's planning on bombing you.

*just eating their food*

lmao he probably is not even in the 1%

She's making buddy buddy with him.

*all close to her*

lmao I hate him. Most of these people HAVE jobs, they just are still poor bc the wage is stupid. Besides, SOMEONE has to mop floors & wipe tables, who is going to do that job? They still deserve to live. Covid taught us which jobs are actually essential. Factory jobs, cashiers, medical professionals (including people like porters & janitors)

That's freidman, right? Who turned around Haynes?

Man this guy is so dumb.

& the longer you go, the more they forget & witness accounts get scrumbly.

The drummer <3 as a busker, I really respect him.

Well he's probably infamous, like that guy who plays the drum while on a skateboard in the city nearby. Everyone knows him. If he was drumming near the protest, he is probably going to be at the next protest.

I really respect him, not wanting to say anything. "I gave the wrong answer?"

Haynes should TOTALLY remain in custody.

VG: Not you Mr Castle, I have a special task for you

Me: "get out of my investigation?"

VG: I'mma get u to speedread

She actually thinks he has value uwu.

"no I'm not" she says & Iove her

ALEXIS' CHOCCY CHIP PANCAKES

Well he also does it bc he's in love with beckett

Well… they say genius… skips a generation WOW THAT'S--

Apparently, so does funny.

"Hey bobby" he says with a GUN

holy crap I need to take a pic of ryan's outfit

Man's an early greying bro.

Castle is back with COFFEE

"& I missed it?"

Castle acab moments

OH NO SHE'S NOW REVEALING THE TRAUMA THING.

Girl you can NOT remember every second of it. Different people have different reactions. Plus, at what point do you not remember?

& castle talks to her to himself

Talking to his mom. They have such a great relationship.

Maybe she didn't say anything bc she has that wall in her or bc she doesn't remember as much as she thinks

(But also bro you can't remember all of it, at what point do you not remember? Do you remember the surgery? No, they put you under. Do you remember every second of the shot & falling to the ground & that means "Every second of IT" it meaning the shot & nothing after.)

He's right. It is about MORE than books, more than HER even.

You can redirect love... & also he has worked with her for YEARS but he was pining with hope, not pining hopelessly

Castle you're communicating like a girl. You say these double entendres & half expect her to understand that you were watching.

There are only so many garage door opener frequencies out there so sometimes in big parking lots or alleys you can beep your car or try your garage door opened & someone else's will open.

*Tosses evidence bags FULL of that stuff*

He's a pickpocket?? I mean sexy ig but bro you're preying on OTHER POOR PEOPLE

The beethoven

& THEN THE MUSIC CHANGES LIKE THAT SO GOOD

Oh he has so much guilt bc he didn't mean to bomb anyone

WHY did they show freidman's photo? maybe bc he was the closest so he was chasing the backpack

RC: And since he placed the bomb between two dumpsters…

KB: He didn't think that anyone would get hurt. Then Bobby stole the backpack.

chronology!

"haranguing"

"business opportunity" lmao

How do they know it was seconds? Right they had his phone records w/o the ophone

Hold on, Westside knows that this is beethoven's 5th?

She called HIM? when?

Except when did SHE call HIM?

it was NOT the best vantage tho bc it exploded in a different place?

Except she would have had to continue reporting, she didn't just pop in for a few seconds, blow the bomb, then run to the storm drain

She KNOWS he's talking to HER but she DOUBTS it

Music recall & she gives congrats

captions said holler, sounded like he may have said yell. Does that mean he'll call her later?

LOVE HEARTBREAK GAACK

as always, thank you livejournal transcript https://scriptline.livejournal.com/64171.html

#castle 4x19 #castle 4x19 spoilers #castle s4 spoilers #castle 4x19 quote #the protest bomb episode #plot heavy but only in the sense that beckett accidentally revealed to castle that she doesn't remember nothing

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 17/09/2022

Lewis Capaldi debuts at #1 on the UK Singles Chart with “Forget Me”. Truly a national tragedy. Welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS!

Rundown

This should be an interesting week, though maybe a bit of a depressing one... though not for any non-musical reasons: we’ve got Lewis Capaldi and homicide coming up. You can decide if they’re related. As always, however, we start with the notable dropouts, songs exiting the UK Top 75 – which is what I cover – after five weeks in the region or a peak in the top 40, of which we have just a few. We bid farewell to “Man in the Mirror” by D-Block Europe, “Narcissist” by Lauren Spencer-Smith, “Rainfall (Praise You)” by Tom Santa – both of those feel cut short – and to wrap it up, “Don’t Forget My Love” by Diplo and Miguel and “Where Did You Go?” by Jax Jones and MNEK after 31 weeks... which may have been the slowest 31 weeks of my entire life.

In terms of notable gains and returns, whilst we do see residual returns for “Someone You Loved” by Lewis Capaldi at #75 and “Yellow” by Coldplay at #74, we also have a smattering of gains, including “Getting Started” by Sam Fender at #55, “Victoria’s Secret” by Jax at #41, “Atlantis” by Seafret at #40, “CUFF IT” by Beyonc�� resurging at #38 thanks to TikTok virality, “Words” by Alesso featuring Zara Larsson at #37, “Calm Down” by Rema at #36 (good to see), “KU LO SA – A COLORS SHOW” by Oxlade at #24, and finally, entering the top 10 to round off our all-over-the-place gains is... “Under the Influence” by Chris Brown at #9. Good Lord.

As for Off the Charts, I’m not really sure what to do with this section. I might split it off or make it monthly but we’ll see for now. I still do listen to music outside of the charts, mostly in fact, but not a lot of it is new and I do need to get back into time regarding that, maybe some catching up is necessary and I can bring it back as a regular fixture but I do think this’ll be my last year bothering to keep up with new music anyway so I’m not really considering turning it into anything more permanent. This is just a hobby for me, after all. Regardless, the Top 5 of the UK Singles Chart currently consists of “Super Freaky Girl” by Nicki Minaj at #5, “I Ain’t Worried” by OneRepublic at #4, “B.O.T.A. (Baddest of Them All)” by Eliza Rose and Interplanetary Criminal, last week’s #1, at #3, “I’m Good (Blue)” by David Guetta and Bebe Rexha at #2 and finally, of course, “Forget Me” at the very top. Now considering I have listened to some albums from 2022 recently, I might as well write them off...

Off the Charts

a happy medium – lentra

You know, I didn’t expect bbno$’s primary producer to make a good project, but I also didn’t expect an EP’s length of vaguely sunny, frustratingly uninterested indie pop. It’s kind of pathetic, and that is some of the appeal, but with mostly generic or unlikeable writing, I can’t endorse it. My favourite track is “i could die”.

Lyfë – Yeat

Yeat still can’t put out a cohesive project of bangers yet, I suppose. I was kind of hoping something off of this would actually chart, but as it is, this is his most ambitious but given his unchanging flows and disinterested content and delivery, he’s still the weakest, least interesting part of his own music. Some of these beats are definitely out-there and I respect that, but the niche runs dry when repeated over different kinds of muted rage beats, borderline rap-rock cuts and cloudier plugg tunes with very little attempt to mesh or apart. My favourite track is of course “Flawlëss” where Lil Uzi Vert steals the show.

age/sex/location – Ari Lennox

R&B singer Ari Lennox comes out with a more polished project that has its moments and often really shines, like the sick groove on my favourite track “Outside”, and the comical interplay with Lucky Daye on “Boy Bye”. With that said, despite the consistent venom towards men who wronged her, and a generally awesome level of charisma, some of the vocal presence feels misguided and not all the songs pick up enough pace. With less attention paid to current R&B trends, this could have been great, but it also could have been shelved entirely, so I’m okay with it as it is.

Icarus – Cryalot

I wish Sarah Bonito had more gripping content or more fully developed, fleshed-out song structures, as that’s the one thing holding this back from being truly great. She’s partially in hyperpop realm here with the naive form of songwriting that is somewhat compelling and the maximalist approach to synthwork, as well as the stop-and-start rhythms she finds herself in. For a more reserved project, it does pretty well: a lot of it is damn near aspirational, “See You Again” is effectively mournful, and she never feels the need to go for a full-on synth blast because it really wouldn’t fit the content. Despite all of that, “Hell is Here” is barely even a song, the chorus on “Hurts Me” isn’t allowed to soar because of the trap beat and I mean, I love the comfy future bass of my favourite track “Labyrinth” but I don’t understand why it’s here twice. There are more ideas than actual songs, but they’re great ideas.

Keep on Smiling – Two Door Cinema Club

This is kind of out there for Two Door Cinema Club, right? Sure, there are just as many sticky pop hooks as, say, their debut, and it’s still flashy, sparkly new rave we’ve come to expect, but this is more often than not rooted in mutant disco more so than the dance-pop it was cribbed off of, and when it makes the shift in the second half to more car commercial music contrasted to the wonkiness of the first half, it makes thematic sense. A lot of that half is spent trying to reassure and reconfigure, the switch into buzzy synth paradise makes complete sense – and the songs are still great. They really have text-to-speech backing vocals on “Everybody’s Cool”. My favourite track is the unstable and shaky “Little Piggy”, which is in more dissonant bizarre territory than I ever expected from 2DCC. Hope to hear more like this.

EACH CRISIS A CATALYST – Boyfriend Needle

It’s kind of weird to say that a disturbed mess of compressed ideas that starts with a frantic blast of metal is a more simplistic, less ambitious EP from Boyfriend Needle but it really does feel like the conceptuality – and really, soundscape – is taking less time here, and there’s more effort into actually constructing songs, which comes with its pros and cons. Hell, I find the actual pop hooks on here less memorable than some of the absurdities on their last couple records. Oh, and of course, the dissonant, filtered pop shrouds itself in dread once those lyrical conceits lose themselves in droning industrial chaos by the closer. Typical Boyfriend Needle. My favourite track is “Corporeal”.

Älskar – Nina Nesbitt

And we end this section with a project I’m so glad to hear, and kind of glad I had the extra time to rethink and analyse because God, this is such a good pure pop record. Why nothing off of it is charting is beyond me. My favourite detail might be her breathy delivery, with the shaky falsetto runs and muted, sometimes even gasped vocal cadences, striking a great blend between the youthful effervescence she finds herself reminiscing upon and the exasperation of having to experience said youth and come to understand the vulnerable position she was in years later. Her looking at the past generations of women in her family on “Dinner Table” is a really great sentiment, and “Older Guys” is just devastating. “Heirlooms” is gorgeous – and probably my favourite track – as she starts to share how concerned she would be for her future family, learning from herself and those earlier generations and hoping that her kids won’t have to carry the weight of her own burdens. The harmonies blend into each other like scenic lakes, the production is damn near immaculate; if you listen to any pure pop or adult contemporary this year, make it this one. It’s incredible. Now, back to our regularly scheduled programming.

NEW ARRIVALS

#63 – “Static” – Steve Lacy

Produced by Steve Lacy

Okay, we’ve got just five new arrivals here, and none of them are particularly interesting. This one is barely a song, with a decent warping funk bass and a decent piano line but this kind of song – with one verse and an outro only – really relies on Lacy as a character and a voice and well, the guy is just annoying. I get that the song’s supposed to be toxic, but without that opposing voice, his bitchy whining in a sing-songy tone about this girl’s new boyfriend is just laid bare to sit there and be irritating. There are some really unpleasant, ugly lines and his vocals are just as flat as they are in “Bad Habit”, so when he coughs instead of saying the word “cough”, the detail doesn’t really come off as intricate – or even in character – just arrogant. The song basically ends a minute in and the rest consists of meandering harmonies that add a nonchalance to all of the whining which I guess could work – it’s kind of a villain song, but with that cheap-sounding acoustic guitar, it doesn’t have nearly the amount of menace or bombast it needs to pull it off. As it is, it’s basically an unfinished rant, and a waste of time.

#60 – “Sex, Drugs, Etc.” – Beach Weather

Produced by Alex Silverman and Sean Silverman

Well, this song is from 2016 because, well, of course it is. It didn’t gain any attention then but thanks to what I assume is TikTok we get yet another indie landfill sleeper hit, and what else is to be expected other than disinterest? I don’t hate the acoustic guitars but they’re not on the verge of a melody I’ve yet to hear before, and the vocals feel really oversold, especially as a mantra in that intro and chorus. It doesn’t help that the lyrics are just as condescending and arrogant, with the embarrassing chorus of “I’m floating on my lowkey vibe”... When that’s your hook, start over! It’s fine to have a song about resting and not partaking in destructive lifestyles, obviously, but when it feels so self-important and defensive over what really is cheap and unimpressive production, especially in that gross bridge, with the reverb-drenched vocals, squealing guitars and piercing synth that just gets to me. Listen, just because indie music is charting doesn’t mean I’m going to like it, especially if it’s going to consist of leftovers that barely function as songs. If you want more proof to that point...

#48 – “Romantic Homicide” – d4vd

Produced by Dan Darmawan

Again, this is just not a song. Sure, the dreamy guitars don’t sound awful... well, actually I say that all the time: in this case, they do. The bad Duster impression sounds really flakey and fake as the guitars stab barely onto the non-existent rhythm of this pathetic attempt at shoegaze-esque doomer music. The drums sound impressively awful as they just kind of plop themselves into the mix with no sense of groove or even catharsis, as d4vd’s vocals caress the mix with a slathering of emo whining that has very little substance – that’s fine – and very little character – that’s annoying. The mix is a mess too, with so many elements inorganically creeping up in the mix alongside a flailing harmony that proves this kid’s lack of ability, if the content about having a dream where he kills his girlfriend didn’t already act as a sign. Listen, messy and emotionally repulsive music can very much work, as catharsis, and depressive, hateful, possessive music has its place. I’ve listened to enough post-punk to understand that there’s a grit and heart-wrenching element to a lot of this kind of sonic hopelessness... yet those songs actually finish instead of abruptly cutting off. The vocalists and guitars have either a grandiosity or a massive depressive weight to carry. I’m not even a fan of shoegaze or dream pop, or slowcore or noise pop for that matter, but I know when it doesn’t work, and as someone who’s only really aware of the genre as “music for depressed nerds”, I don’t see this working for them. For a better introduction, I mean, My Bloody Valentine, Slowdive, The Wedding Present all have classics in this lane, Duster, Helvetia, Gravehurst and Low are right there, these aren’t exactly inaccessible, obscure bands; I’m not even a fan, and I know for a fact this kind of music is being made today – not that I listen to it because, well, I’m happy. So why give this teenage dreck the time of day?

#42 – “LA Leakers Freestyle” – Central Cee

Produced by Kendox

Once again, this is just not a song. Okay, this is actually true for this and not just hyperbole: Power 106 is a radio show in America, and the hosts, the LA Leakers collective, got Central Cee on to spit a single verse. Cee spends most of his time trying to “bridge the gap”, and I can kind of excuse the mixing considering this is a radio show and not an official streaming release – if you can ignore that, you know, it’s an official streaming release. So what’s he got to say about bridging the gap? Well, by that he means that he explains UK slang in a kind of unnatural way, explaining the difference between UK and US gang culture and slang. The beat feels very cheap and pots-and-pans, with a chipmunk soul sample that squeaks over a stock drill groove. I’ll say that he’s a confident voice and I’m not bothered that he seems to be the view of UK drill for the rest of the world, since his flow is consistent here, and the breath control is impressive, but it’s just not really a song, and I can’t really judge it as such. It’s just a decent verse over a cheap-sounding beat, and rarely will one of those radio freestyles ever reach greatness, so what was there to expect? Speaking of low expectations...

#1 – “Forget Me” – Lewis Capaldi

Produced by Chris Bishop, Lewis Capaldi and TMS

Making moves, yeah, on the dance floor. Got our groove on, dancing – yeah – real hardcore. From the front to the back, that’s where I was at. You know, you know, the Artful Dodger do it like that. With Craig David all over your – (boing!) – DJ, it’s all up to you. When the crowd goes wild, tell me, what are you going to do? Re-rewind, when the crowd says, “Bo Selecta”. Re-rewind, when the crowd says, “Bo Selecta”. Re-rewind, when the crowd says, “Bo-Bo-Bo”. Re-rewind: this goes out to all the DJs. If you know, you know.

Conclusion

Jokes and obscure self-referential bits aside, Lewis Capaldi had the best song here, so I suppose he gets Best of the Week for “Forget Me” even though I had so little to say about it that I just replaced my review with Craig David lyrics. Hey, it’s inoffensive enough for me to do that. As for Worst of the Week, it goes to d4vd for “Romantic Homicide” because Jesus has left us, and the Dishonourable Mention goes to “Static” by Steve Lacy for just being insufferable.

That was a rough week, and for no particular reason that is not related to these new arrivals. Nothing else happened in the UK that is important to the news or the chart show. Thank you for reading, rest in peace to PnB Rock – gone way too soon – and I’ll see you next week!

[chateautae]

maybe i do | kth. III

➵ summary :  maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳  part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre :  arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 17k (im sorry omg)

➵ warnings : oh boi we have aNgSt, serious familial issues, swearing, multiple fight scenes, mainly verbal but there is a slap in one, mentions of a wound, mentions of alcohol, (there’s honestly a lot that goes wrong in this chapter but at least tae and the reader have each other), sexual tension :o, bit of possessive!tae, (i mention a short reader a lot but i just wanted to say you’re beautiful even if you’re tall! tae is just very tall to me askldjs)  

➵ a/n: i’m back and hoLY is this chapter loaded (and a lil unedited forgive me!!) i’ve finally finished school and get a whole month off now! who knows what works i’ll release in that time 👀. as always, feedback is appreciated loves!

chapter three : “the window opened one time with you and me”

prev. ↞ || ↠ next  ||  masterlist

“Mother?” You stood frozen, completely and utterly shocked as to how your mother was just opposite of you, smiling brightly as if she hadn’t done a single thing wrong in her life and loved you unconditionally.

How incredibly wrong that was. 

“Y/N! How are you? Oh dear, it’s been so long!” Your mother threw her arms around your neck, pulling you against her for a hug you just barely returned. 

“Good. You?” 

“Oh, I’m great!” She beamed.

“What are you doing here?” You inquired, shutting the door after her entry.

“Ah, I just couldn’t believe my daughter’s married now, I wanted to drop by and say congratulations!” Your mother cheered, grinning widely as she began scanning the grand interior of your house, leering as though you weren’t standing just before her.

“Drop by? You could’ve just came to the wedding, Mother...” You suggested despondently, plastering a pained smile onto your face. You attempted to meet her eyes, though they rather seemed to sparkle at anything that appeared expensive.

Anything but you. 

“Oh, I was in Ibiza. I couldn’t just leave while my resort pass still had benefits on it, you know me.” She flashed you a cheeky smile as she playfully hit you, propping her heels off.

You nodded half heartedly, trying extremely hard to not lose it on her because you were in your home; a place meant for peace and comfort and didn’t have room for negative.

Not to mention, Taehyung resided just upstairs in his study with most likely his door open, and you didn’t want to risk bothering him if you raised your voice. 

“Ibiza was more important than your own daughter’s wedding, huh?” You spoke to yourself, nodding in a manner that would somehow help you accept the sad fact, though instead called forth a feeling you should’ve grown accustomed to by now.

Disappointment.

She knew about the wedding, you knew your father informed her of the ceremony along with its date and time. Though as she audaciously ogled the embellishments of your front foyer and spoke to you carelessly, she practically screamed she gave 0 fucks about your wedding. That what really mattered to her was living out the full experience of an expensive vacation than attending a life-changing night for her daughter. 

Typical. 

“Oh, c’mon now. When you put it like that it makes me seem so bad.” Your mother pouted like a child. “It wasn’t a real marriage, anyway.” She waved off the conversation as she ventured further into the house, bold enough to strike another conversation . “My God, this is the house of the Kim Taehyung?” Your mother’s eyebrows shot up, drinking in the grand size and wealthy look of the home. “You got very lucky, Y/N.” 

You cocked an eyebrow, incredulous of what she was insinuating. “What do you mean, Mother?” 

“Y/N, you’re married to Kim Taehyung. Do you understand how fantastic that is? For you?” Your mother was on the verge of scoffing, smoothing over her dress as she looked elsewhere. “He’s an incredibly rich man, and considering that life of yours it’s a miracle he ever agreed to marry you.” Your mother relayed nonchalantly as she caught sight of an exquisite vase. 

And there it was, the belittling. You’d mentioned before you were often disparaged and received numerous insults when anything concerned your status as the runaway heiress. But what you failed to mention was the person who claimed the #1 position as your largest and most incessant hater. 

Your mother. 

“Mother, it doesn’t matter to me whether a man is rich or not.” You countered, trying to quell your snippy tone but it was as grand a fail your mother was at being a mother. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Unlike you, I’m not obsessed with my husband’s money.” You almost spat with crossed arms, only this comment causing her to turn towards you. 

“Excuse me? I’m your mother, watch your tone a little.” She scolded quite lightly, before returning to inspect a painting. 

You scoffed, “My mother...” you repeated under your breath, rolling your eyes. 

“No mumbling, Y/N. Speak up.”

“I said it’s funny you’re referring to yourself as my mother.” You voiced clearer.

“And why is that so funny?” You could visibly see your mother failing to control her temper with you, masking it all behind a fake smile she mastered ages ago. 

“Because you’ve been anything but a mother.” You retorted, knowing exactly what this conversation was leading into. 

An argument.

“And you’ve been daughter of the year?” Your mother countered, sarcastic tone cutting the air, and it only made you more irritated. 

“Here we go again, the bad daughter narrative.” You scoffed. “Find something new to argue, will you?” You narrowed your eyes.

“And you believe your bad mother narrative is any better?” She sneered back. “I’ve even come to visit you yet this it how you’re treating me. When will you ever learn to be grateful?”

“Please, you chose a vacation over your own daughter’s wedding.” You held a hand up, gesturing against her audacity. “And when have I ever been ungrateful? I don’t remember biting the hand that fed me.” 

“No, Y/N, you didn’t bite the hand that fed you, you completely neglected and abandoned it.” She claimed, drawing closer towards your direction. “You left this family to pursue your own selfish desires. You’re the very definition of ungrateful.” 

“Excuse me? Definition?” 

“Yes, definition. You threw everything your father worked so hard for away. All he ever wanted was to provide his family with a comfortable life, but you instead wasted his efforts and made everyone's lives so much harder. Do you really think I’ll forgive you for what you did to your older brother?” Your mother voiced in an accusatory tone, bringing up an age old argument you knew was going to ravage any peace between you two. 

“That was not my fault, he was already due for the same thing in Korea, it doesn’t matter if he’s in the U.S now.” You argued back. 

“It’s all your fault! You’re the reason Yoongi hasn’t been able to come home in years! You ruined his entire life by making him uproot and take over the U.S faction when it was your role. Your decision to leave forced him into it!” 

“So you’d rather have my life uprooted and ruined than your precious son’s?”

“Because my son isn’t like you! He isn’t selfish at all, Yoonie is a hard-working man who’s always listened to me and your father, always rightfully prioritized the company. But you? You’ve only ever made things worse. You’re completely useless, all you do is tear this family apart. Your father has to pick up your work, you keep your brother out of this country and give me years worth of stress!” Your mother shouted louder than she should’ve, angry as her eyes revealed searing frustration, contempt. 

You were trying to negate the hurt you felt by her words, having trained yourself to endure their sharp sting, though no matter how many times you heard them, it never made it any easier. 

“Oh please, your favouritism is showing, mother.” You remarked with near tears, her disregard for you so disturbingly apparent it left your eyes watering. 

“Yoongi has always loved his work and the company, but I never have. When will you understand that? If I’ve ruined our family so much why have I never heard these same words from Dad or Yoongi? They’ve always supported me, understood and loved me regardless of what life I chose. Why can’t you do the same? Why can’t you just try to understand me for once?” 

“Because there’s nothing to understand. You’re an heiress to this family, you are meant to live for this company and this company only. You owe your father and I your life, nothing has ever been yours. The least you could do to pay us back is by rightfully working at the company and not being as much of a disappointment as you are now.” You mother’s tone was strict and resolute, utterly fed up with you.

“Cry me a river, mother. I don't owe you a single thing. You’re one to talk about working alongside Dad and the company, all you’ve ever done is use his money without a single care for his work.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me, Mother, all you do is use Dad for his money. You know next to nothing about business or the company and have the least amount of right to lecture me about it. At least I’m not a woman who mooches off somebody and lives recklessly!” You snapped back at her with tears just pooling your lash line, arms crossed tightly holding your chest where it felt your heart would collapse.  

“Do you understand who you’re talking to? Speak with respect, Y/N, I am your mother.” She tried to finalize, but you weren’t having any of it. 

“And I could care less. You’ve never once done anything to warrant that title. All you’ve ever done is travel the world and bathe in the luxuries your husband affords you without ever being there for me or Yoongi. It was always dad despite being so busy, it was never you. You weren't even there for my wedding, when I needed my mother the most. No, you’re someone who’d rather use your rich husband and forget he’s a person.” Your voice was shaking at this point, practically rattling. “You may not have been there for my wedding, but I would never do that to my husband.” You let everything out without a care at the point, flooding the tense air. 

Your mother seemed to completely lose it at this, her tone scarily still as she gritted through her teeth. “You wouldn’t do that to your husband, really? Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing right now?” 

You flashed her an incredulous look. “Pardon?”

“You’re married to one of the richest men in Seoul, and you think you’re not doing the same thing? Whose house do you live in? Whose food do you eat? Whose lavish lifestyle do you now get to relish in? It’s all your husband’s, not yours.” Your mother was practically spitting venom at this point, scoffing. “I must say, your quest for independence is interesting, having landed you in the exact same place you always berated me for. Look where you are now, mooching off your rich husband.” 

If words could dagger you in the heart and looks could kill, you’d surely be 6 ft. under by now.

Years, years you’ve been stuck in this constant loop of back and fourth with your mother, arguing the same 5 things you could never see eye-to-eye on. And no matter what she said, no matter the insults, the belittling, the verbal abuse she always spat your way; you’d grown used to it. Her words became normal, second nature to you and so you easily drowned them out. Her insults became useless weapons you simply dodged and avoided. 

But this, this was where your mother won. 

Her words dawned a laughable sense of irony on you, nearly physically reeling as though someone had punched you in the gut at the realization. It was raw agony, the very prospect you’d spent the entirety of this ordeal evading. 

To think the same independence you fought so gravely for, can so easily be erased and forgotten all due to marrying a rich CEO. It felt pathetic, unfair you had no choice but to marry Taehyung. It wasn’t his fault he was rich, neither was it yours. 

It was just coincidence, pure and utter coincidence. But to think this very coincidence would be the reason your stomach is churning and self-worth is collapsing; it was fucking unfortunate, miserable. 

“Leave my house, this instance.” There was no emotion in your voice, it was flat, vision clouded.

“What did you say to me?” 

“I said get out!” You yelled, the shrill in your voice evidence of tears. “I don’t ever want to see you again!” 

“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me! I’m your mother!” 

“You’re not my mother at all, you’re the worst excuse of one. Leave my house!” 

“It’s not your house, Y/N! It’s your husband’s, and you will end up living the same life as me, using your husband for his money!” Your mother had somehow made her way over to you, having the audacity to push you back by your arms, driving her point home by the act of aggression. 

You gritted through your teeth, eyes teary. “I’ll never be like you, I’ll never be a cheap woman who only stays with a man for his money. A woman who probably cheats on her husband with wealthy men in other countries!”

This was the moment your mother gasped scandalously, becoming so irate she didn’t hesitate to raise her hand and slap you across the face. 

You stood emotionless, not even having the capacity to feel shocked or in pain due to how normal this was. There wasn’t a single unfamiliar thing about the sting of her hand, the way her manicured nails scratched against your skin and worse, the way her wedding ring usually cut into your cheek to produce a small wound. 

It was all too familiar, making you scoff as if this was exactly what you expected from her, exactly what you've always known. 

“You still hit your grown daughter, huh? The last 10 years of it weren’t enough?” You endured the ache, swallowing back tears. You weren’t letting them spill, not at this. 

Not at something as undeserving as your mother. 

“You give reasons to, Y/N.” Your mother simply crossed her arms and looked away, showing the slightest hint of shame though never allowing it to leak into the proud and egotistical persona she assumed around you. 

A suffocating silence pierced the air, looming for some time until you spoke. 

“Leave this house, mother. I beg of you.” You pleaded, not out of desperation, though out of sheer tiredness. Tiredness of the same argument and the same insults you always directed each other, tired of the same outcomes that only ever lead to more bitterness tainting your relationship. “Don’t make this any worse, we’ve probably disturbed Taehyung upstairs.” 

Your mother looked at you with lightly raised eyebrows, inquiring. “He’s home?” 

You nodded faintly. “Yeah, so leave.” 

“Am I not allowed to meet him?” Your mother seemed offended. 

“No, you’re not.” You stated firmly, not caring about the sliver of respect you thought you had for her and instantly pushing her towards your front entrance, nabbing her shoes along the way. 

“What are you-” She didn’t even get to finish her sentence before you swung the front door open, guiding her outside and shoving her shoes in her hands. 

She was about to retort until you shut the door on her, locking it. You leaned against the wood as you heard her protests, not minding her calls as you allowed your constrained tears to finally stream down your face. 

It was too much, she was too much. 

Why could your mother never see eye-to-eye with you? Why couldn’t she be a normal mother? Why couldn’t she be supportive? All she ever did was preach how useless you were, how selfish and ungrateful your very existence was.

Of course someone like her could never understand, never understand the value of autonomy and achieving something for yourself; she’s never once done anything along those lines in her entire life. 

Her words ran deeper today than they ever have, sending a stifling feeling to swarm your chest, your self-esteem and everything alike collapsing along with your pride.

It hurt, it really did. To hear those words from the very woman meant to love you so dearly, so unconditionally only exacerbated the pain. It made you jealous of every child you was gifted with a kind mother, not daring to curse anyone for it but simply feel it was unfair. Even Taehyung had such a warm and loving mother. 

Maybe that’s why Taehyung was so warm. 

Taehyung. 

You realized you were out in the open shedding tears where he could possibly see you, trying to silence the sobs that escaped your lips. You only failed, agony tightening your chest and growing more painful the more you held it all in. So you clutched your hand to your mouth and made straight for the kitchen sink, running the water loudly enough to drown out the sounds of you candidly crying. 

Your cheek still stung, your heart ached and your mind spun endlessly, all while trying to desperately rid yourself of the worthless feeling inside you. 

And it didn’t work. 

Taehyung had been working, scrolling through his laptop as he diligently reviewed status reports, only to have a notification brighten his phone screen. He flashed his occupied vision towards it and caught sight of his security system alerting him of his front door. 

He grew curious knowing the housekeepers were shopping for groceries at this hour, causing him to tap the notification and display the camera feed of his front porch. He was welcomed by a woman he’s never seen, peaking his curiosity. 

He almost rose from his seat until he saw the woman turn towards the door in accordance with you opening it, assuming you most likely knew her as she smiled brightly and ventured comfortably into the home. 

Taehyung shrugged it off and returned to his tedious reading, staring at the practically blurring lines of text until he eventually began hearing raised voices from downstairs, his ajar doors and grand home producing an echoing effect that reached his study. 

Taehyung cocked an eyebrow as he grew slightly worried, discerning it didn’t sound like a friendly conversation. He abandoned his work and made towards the doors of his study, peaking towards the direction of his stair railings that overlooked the first floor of his home. 

More of the conversation became apparent, and Taehyung instantly identified it sounded more like a negatively charged argument than a conversation. His eyebrows furrowed the more he listened, knowing it was bad manners to eavesdrop though finding himself doing so anyways. 

“You heard me, Mother, all you do is use Dad’s money. You know next to nothing about business or the company...” Taehyung’s eyebrows shot to the sky, realizing you were speaking to your mother; the same woman you explicitly expressed was to be avoided at all costs and even winced at the mention of. 

He couldn’t forget that from the first time he met you. 

“...Speak with respect, Y/N, I am your mother. ” The crudeness in your mother’s voice was already indicative of your ill relationship, the harshness sounding like second nature. 

Taehyung grimaced. 

“...All you’ve ever done is travel the world and bathe in the luxuries your husband affords you without ever being there for me or Yoongi...” Yoongi? As in your brother, Min Yoongi? Taehyung only loosely recalled Min Yoongi lived and worked in the States, where he headed your father’s lucrative faction there.

He’d only met the mellow, though diligent man a couple times before.

“...I would never do that to my husband.” Despite the intense situation, Taehyung felt the slightest tinge of pride hearing you refer to him as your husband.  

“You wouldn’t do that to your husband? Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing right now?” 

Oh fuck, Taehyung thought. This isn’t going anywhere good. 

“You’re married to one of the richest men in Seoul, and you think you’re not doing the same thing? Whose house do you live in? Whose food do you eat?...”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Taehyung became alarmed, silently drawing his index finger and thumb over his lips in frustration. You didn’t need to hear this, it was complete bullshit. Your situation with him was different, it was forced and coerced. Taehyung could tell you were someone who truly didn't favour using someone else’s money, and knew you were trying your damn hardest to adjust to the idea itself having to spend your life with him. 

He rushed out into the hallway where he began pacing, trying his hardest to contain himself and hope that you wouldn’t take your mother’s words to heart. Was this why you were so adamant about the fucking card? Because you had to hear shit like this from your mother? 

This was only going to undo the work he’d successfully laid out, thinking it would erase any convincing he had done about his money and what’s his is yours. This was bad news, he didn’t want you thinking any of your mother’s words were true. 

They simply weren’t. 

“Leave my house, this instance.”

“What did you say to me?”

“I said get out! I don’t ever want to see you again!”

Taehyung was becoming anxious, the argument was clearly escalating and he felt uneasy, an incessant feeling bothering his chest. 

There it was again, that same sense of protection he felt when he saw you practically shaking talking to that Kisoo guy. He didn't understand why it manifested, or why he felt it so emphatically. All he knew was after hearing the way your voice nearly cracked, unstable and troubled as you grew more emotional, he felt the strong feeling to oddly.. rescue you? 

It’s like he wanted to bolt down the stairs, physically stand in between the argument and force your mother out of the house, all while trying to persuade you what she said wasn't true. 

Why did he feel this way? This was none of his damn business, had absolutely nothing to do with him yet if it weren't for half the mind he had, he could’ve found himself racing down the stairs to defend you.

Taehyung shivered at the thought, shaking it off.

“... you will end up living the same life as me, using your husband for his money!”

“I’ll never be like you, I’ll never be a cheap woman who only stays with a man for his money. A woman who probably cheats...”

And not long after he heard the slap, evidently hard and painful in just it’s sound. Taehyung immediately froze in his tracks, halting his pacing as worry blossomed in his chest. He prodded over to hide against the edge of the wall that connected to his staircase, able to peak at the sight of both you and your mother stood before the front foyer. 

Taehyung felt pissed within seconds, again unable to decipher why he felt the need to protect you. Though what he did know was that he felt bothered, never wanted anyone to hurt you and he hated the very thought of it. 

Maybe it was because of his considerate personality again, or maybe it really was because of you. 

What made Taehyung grow even angrier, though, was the way you reacted, listening to you dub this as something that happened often, and he was uber pissed now. 

You didn’t fucking deserve that at all. 

It took him no time to understand your apprehension and natural disliking for your mother, wanting himself to never have to converse with her. He would most likely be rude and curt, replaying the same vile words she really had the nerve to say to her own daughter. Scratch that, his wife. 

Yeah, Taehyung thought. My wife shouldn’t be treated like this. 

He knew it was wrong, impolite of him to assume and judge a person so openly based on their cover, though Taehyung could tell these were your mother’s true colours, and any other persona she assumed would only be a farce. 

Taehyung watched as you simply shoved your mother out of the house, shutting the door only to lean against it and allow the tears you’d hidden to fall down your cheeks. Taehyung turned his back and leaned against the wall, concealing himself to give you privacy. 

He knew it was already rude to have eavesdropped, even ruder to look on at such a vulnerable moment. It was rude because he wouldn’t even be able to comfort you, only watch as a dumb-founded bystander; rendered useless because it wasn’t his place to console you.

He knew nothing about you.

He really didn’t know your situation, the relationship you had with your mother. He couldn’t step on your toes and give you advice as if he knew you, nor supply you with words that would make you feel better; contemplating he’d possibly never be able to. 

He wasn’t your remedy, he wasn’t your muse, just a man you were forced to marry and now have to live with. A man who stripped you of your independence, ruined your life all just by his mere existence.

 And so Taehyung found even more reasons to not rush to you, simply leave you on your own knowing he was partly the reason for your pain, your suffering. That your mother only said such things because of him, that she only insulted you because of him. 

So he found himself retreating, walking carefully back to his study to mind his own business and continue his work, complete it as though nothing happened. 

But as each step seemed to grow longer, heavier, he found himself unable to retreat. Unable to function knowing you were probably hurting, unable to ignore you and so blatantly turn his back on you. 

So in a hasty, irrational decision, Taehyung found himself turning on his heel and rushing towards the staircase. 

You continued to sob quietly, thinking if you just let it all out now, cried just about hard enough all the sorrow would leave your body. So that’s what you did, bit your lips to contain the aching feeling in your chest as your throat seemed to constrict, swallowing all your feelings down in an attempt to poorly control them. 

You were in your own world, the sink’s water masking any noise behind you, and so when somebody’s hand reached out to rest against your shoulder, you were completely startled. You jumped, quickly shutting the water in a flash and refusing to look back at the culprit to save your pride. 

Whoever it was, they couldn’t see you like this. 

Though when you heard his dulcet, deep voice calling your name, you knew exactly who it was.

“Y/N?”

You straightened yourself up, breathing out the emotions ravaging your chest and stabilizing your voice to address him. “Hey, Taehyung. What um.. what are you doing here?” 

Taehyung could hear your solemn attempt to cover everything up, feeling your sense of embarrassment practically fill the air. 

“Nothing, just.. wanted to see you.” Taehyung said, unsure of how to approach this.

“You’re probably busy. You should go back to work.” You tried hard to sound okay while you practically swallowed back tears, clutching the counter of the sink.

“It’s alright, not important.” Taehyung waved it off, letting his hard remain on your shoulder seeing you didn’t reject him. A beat of silence lingered until he spoke again.

“Can you look at me, Y/N?” There was no pressure in his voice, just the same soft consideration you’d heard at the hotel suite a couple nights ago.

And you hated it, hated that it made you want to give in, want to so easily follow his request and bare to him whatever he wanted.

Until your last braincell kicked in. 

“I’m sorry, Taehyung. I’m really sorry if I interrupted your work. Please go back to your study.” You voiced just barely above a shaky tone, trying your absolute hardest to sound just fine, seem okay. But the more Taehyung spoke, the more you felt your defense mechanisms slowly coming undone.

And you knew he knew.

“I wasn't interrupted.” He stated normally, his voice natural and yet he sounded so.. comforting? He was simply responding to you and yet his voice and presence seemed to soothe the sharp ache in your chest. 

It was fucking poetic. 

“I’m sure I did, Taehyung. Just please, return to your work.” 

“I don’t need to, Y/N, I can stay here.” He was firm as he stood behind you, measly hand against your shoulder and his usually intimidating, towering figure reassuring.

It was odd.

“You shouldn’t. Just go back, Taehyung.” You attempted to voice with more strength, trying to blink tears away and it didn’t convince Taehyung in the slightest.

“I don’t want to. Look at me first.” His voice sounded calm, and it was really like honey. Thick yet sweet, so deep and yet it’s cadence harboured the ability to put anyone at ease.

You shut your eyes tightly, wiping at them hastily to rid any tears as you sniffled and turned around. You were met by his face that slightly softened at the sight of you, eyes seeming to melt as they swirled with consideration, different from his usually unreadable expression. 

“See, I’m fine. You can go back to work.” You plastered a smile on, trying to stand a little more confidently, though Taehyung didn’t budge. 

He only remained, gazing at the features of your face as he seemed to drape his own with a small sense of sadness, like he was upset, maybe even hurt? It was slight, though identifiable. It left you quite speechless, thinking it was all just part of your imagination.

It couldn’t be real.  

But it exactly was as Taehyung’s large hand came up to gently touch the cheek your mother slapped. You didn’t realize it hurt more than it should’ve when you felt a sharp sting at his touch, wincing.

You registered there was probably a visible mark and grew too vulnerable, downright embarrassed for your liking and so you deflected him, smacking his hand away from your face as you looked off to the side. 

“I’m fine, Taehyung.” You declared, and Taehyung didn’t know how to react as his hand came off you, feeling a bit disheartened. He simply wanted to help, and he didn’t want to leave without doing so.

So he still looked at you, eyes possibly growing sympathetic though it could’ve been a figment of your imagination again.

“You didn’t deserve that.” He voiced soft in sound, though resolute in nature.

Taehyung was having trouble choosing what he could say without overstepping, invading a part of you he probably shouldn’t. 

“I didn’t ask for a pity party, Taehyung. Go back to work.” You said with a more snippy tone than you planned, though found it befitting of your current emotions nonetheless. 

“I’m not pitying. I’m..” Taehyung struggled for a word until you answered. 

“What, caring?” You scoffed, “Please, Taehyung, you don’t have to care like my real husband, it’s only on paper-”

“But I am your real husband.” Taehyung emphasized, his serious eyes meeting yours. “It’s on paper and in real life, so I think I’m allowed to care.” Taehyung retorted with narrowed eyes finding he liked that sentence, liked what it had to convey because it was damn true. 

Taehyung decided on reaching for your arms to drive his point home, though watched as you again, naturally retracted from him. You still seemed to refuse him, didn’t see him in a good enough light to not cower away. 

And he still fucking hated it. 

Taehyung went for it anyway and gripped your arms when you began to draw away, catching you. The action nearly demanded you look into his eyes, and found yourself doing exactly so. 

“Y/N, first, don’t be scared of me, please?” His eyes grew soft. “I seriously-I really hate it. I would never..” Taehyung trailed as his vision fell to the side of your face, eyes seeming to reflect concern.

You were completely surprised, watching him unmask a plethora of emotion you didn't think he’d so candidly reveal.

Taehyung brought his hand to brush your slightly swollen cheek, continuing. “I would never do this, do anything to scare you. I just wouldn’t.” Taehyung was emphatic and genuine, gently touching the fresh wound on the apple of your cheek.

“I.. know that, Taehyung.” You again felt that same urge to touch his hand that touched you, but you decided against it. “Though I don’t need your pity. This doesn’t hurt, don’t break a sweat about it, please.” You were trying to turn away from his hold but Taehyung didn’t let go, maintaining you in his hands.

“It’s not pity, Y/N. It’s sympathy. This bothers me, okay?”

“I don’t need it. I’ve got myself-” 

“But you’re not alone.” Taehyung suddenly stated seriously, tone permeating the air and you just about froze. You only looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to decipher what he was trying to say.

“You’re not.. alone, okay? You have me.” He spoke as though he was trying to convey a meaningful message, trying to mark his own words. “In whatever way... you have me.” It was a hesitant claim, but it felt just like when he’d made his promise to you at the altar. 

And suddenly you found yourself giving in, sighing as you registered this was all pretty much an elaborate reflection of the lesson you learned not so long ago.  You and Taehyung are married now, and no matter how that status manifested itself, you had to accept what came with it.

Especially if it meant him.

“Okay.” You replied simply, multiple emotions masked by the plain word. 

Taehyung looked at you a little surprised you’d actually accepted that, but broke into a genuine grin you hadn’t really seen before. 

And you really did like the way he smiled.

He made you want to smile too, though as your facial muscles worked for the grin your cheek stung, wincing as a result. Taehyung exclaimed within a matter of seconds. “Ah, don’t move.” He cautioned, smiling a little when you chuckled at his overreaction. “Don’t worry, Taehyung. It’s alright.” 

“Alright, my foot.” Taehyung joked, bending down to inspect your wound closer than you expected, and you hid the feeling that shot through you because of his proximity with a nervous laugh, causing you to wince again. 

“Hey, what did I say?” Taehyung chastised you lightly, lips in a straight line as he shook his head disapprovingly. “C’mon, let’s treat this.” 

You immediately whined, feeling too lazy to get something so small and insignificant treated. “Taehyung, it’s not even that bad, why?” You pouted. 

“Cause it’ll leave a mark on your pretty face.” Taehyung smiled innocently, not even caring about the effect it left on you as he found your hand and tugged you along to the second floor. Your eyes only remained widened, never letting up the surprise that took you. 

Did he just call you pretty? 

You let Taehyung lead you to your master bathroom, where he situated you by the counter and shuffled around for his first-aid kit. He finally retrieved the box, dabbing some alcohol onto a cotton swab and bringing it to your face. 

Taehyung just about performed the action until he began struggling bending to your height, wanting to carefully apply the alcohol. So he tried different angles and maneuvered himself around, all coming up useless. “God, why do you have to be so small?” Taehyung huffed under his breath as he stood to his full height, contemplating how he’d accomplish this. 

“I’m not small, you’re just really-” You were about to complete your sentence until Taehyung’s hands suddenly grabbed your waist, lifting you in a single breath and propping you up onto the bathroom counter. You would’ve exclaimed, maybe protest though believed it would’ve made the heat in your face so much more apparent.

“That’s better.” He grinned, biting back a chuckle at your flushed face and widened eyes.  

Those fucking eyes. 

Taehyung then found it easier to apply what he needed, cleaning up the wound precariously before dabbing on some ointment to avoid any scarring, only missing a bandage to place on your cheek. Taehyung searched for one in his kit and drawers, though came up empty-handed. He became puzzled as to where he put his bandages, placing his hands in his pockets to think until he felt the familiar scratch of a wrapper.

He furrowed his eyebrows at first until he figured exactly what it was. 

And he suppressed a stupid grin. 

Taehyung pulled out the wrapper and watched as you avoided eye contact with him, cheeks still clearly warm as you swung your legs on the counter in anticipation of him.

Cute, he thought.

He ripped the wrapper, chucking the garbage aside as he drew close to your face. His breath suddenly fanned you, mere inches from your face with his lips so proximal you were stupidly remembering your kiss from a couple days ago.

He was just so close. So close that you could actually discern he had this pretty little mole on his cheek, even one just underneath his eye, lining his lash line. You smiled realizing he had such unique details, even seeing he had a mono-lid and a double eyelid. Then came his obvious features, his plushy, pink lips, his chocolate eyes, his soft hair and sculpted face structure. It made you want to hide your own face out of near insecurity.

He was just so beautiful.

You watched him as he focused on you, trying to calm down your oddly racing heart, feeling the sensation of his closeness shoot through your body. He smoothed the bandage over your cheek and drew away far too earlier than you wanted.

“There. Apply something before putting a bandage on, right?” He cocked an eyebrow and looked at you knowingly, crossing his arms. 

You immediately smiled at the sentiment, realizing it’s the same line you said to him during your first exchange, and you felt your heart just slightly, slightly flutter at the thought he remembered.

“Right.”

It had been a week since that incident.

Taehyung and yourself had assumed your regular lives, having to drudge back to work after a few days off.

Your mother’s words still lingered around in your head, spoiling your mood here and there though assuming the ever-so healthy manner of simply pushing the mentally detrimental thoughts away, distracting yourself with work. 

You wish you could detail anymore interactions with Taehyung, though they were scarce with how rarely you saw each other. You both either just missed each other, were too busy to pay attention or simply came home too late. Even sleeping together was hit or miss, usually either of you crawling into bed earlier than the other with no real exchanges.

You could say it made you feel just a little sad, though not entirely considering you two were genuinely busy people, Taehyung an even busier person.

That all came to a full stop though one Friday morning, you were seated by the island and staring at your most recent design for a building, iPad pen twirling in hand. You were sipping on coffee when Taehyung pulled out a chair and suddenly startled you, coffee almost spilling.

“Jheez,” you huffed, “you scared me.” 

“Sorry, you were just really focused.” Taehyung apologized as he placed his own iPad down, reading away.

It’d been like this the whole week, you either designing and leading projects at your own job with Taehyung the ever-busy CEO at his own company, causing you both to often sit in each other’s presence though never take your eyes off your screens.

“Hey, I wanted to tell you something.” Taehyung suddenly perked up, stopping his scrolling. 

“Hm?” You looked up. 

“I should’ve told you this sooner, but we have to attend a gala tonight.” Taehyung grimaced at how sudden this seemed, arms crossed as he leaned on the counter.

Did the action really have to make his biceps pop?

Anyway, you were nearly spitting out your drink for the umpteenth time because of Taehyung, eyes blown out at his abrupt news. 

“Wh-what did you just say? Tonight?”

“Yeah, one of friends’ companies. 25th anniversary since establishment.” Taehyung went to bite a piece of his toast with strawberry jam.

You noticed he liked strawberries and didn’t like bread crust, making you want to smile sometimes at the child-like charm he hid underneath his intimidating persona. “They’re holding a huge gala and he’s one of my best friends, we’ll have to attend.”

You eventually came to understanding him, trying to wrap your head around having to suddenly attend such a high-end event. 

“This event is also going to be our first public appearance together. It’s important.” Taehyung stressed, back to scrolling through his iPad. 

“That’s alright. I don’t mind going, it’s just...I don’t think I even have a dress for a gala.” You mentally sifted through your own wardrobe, coming up short once you realized you haven’t been to an extravagant event like that since you were a teenager.

“I know, I bought one for you.”

You should really stop drinking beverages around Taehyung because you can never seem to keep them in your damn mouth. “You bought one? Taehyung..” You whined. “What did I say about giving me things?” 

“Hey, what did I say about giving you things?” He scolded you lightly. “I give you things simply because I want to.”  

You pouted. “Still, you don’t even know my size, when did you even have time?”

“That doesn’t matter. It’ll fit you, don’t worry.” Taehyung sent a smile as he deflected your question and returned to his iPad, not wanting to reveal that he’d secretly referred to your other dresses in your shared closet for your correct measurements.

“But it probably wasted your time. I should’ve gone out and bought it myself.” You felt guilty, realizing it probably made him compromise his work.

“It wasn’t a waste of time.” Taehyung countered, not really liking how you considered yourself not worthy of spending time on.

“I- thank you.” You blurted out before his statement could effect you. “When does the event begin?”

“7. You should try getting off work early to get ready.” Taehyung suggested, sipping his tea as he looked at you.

“Oh God, I’m gonna have to doll myself up. I haven’t done that in ages.” You held a hand to your mouth, trying to digest the fact you’d probably have to look like a trophy wife. 

“I could get you a makeup artist and hair stylist.” Taehyung offered. 

“No, it’s okay. I think I’ll be fine. I just haven’t been to a gala in a long time.” You felt surprised about the fact yourself. “I’m gonna have to meet so many people.” 

“You will, but I’ll be there.” Taehyung assured, glancing up at you.

“Of course, but you won’t be with me the entire night. I’ll have to brush up on my rich people skills.” You blew a raspberry, knowing you had great interpersonal skills but just didn’t like acting so fake all the time. 

“I won’t leave, just stick with me the whole night.” Taehyung stated as he absentmindedly held his index finger to his lips reading an email, quite goddamn illegally if you had to say so yourself. 

“I will.” You confirmed, erasing at a line on your iPad. “Will you come home early too?”

Taehyung clicked his tongue disappointingly. “I will but just barely on time. Friday’s mean meetings for me, so I can’t leave early. I’ll get ready at work, come back inside the house to get you.”

“Okay.” You’re not sure why you felt suddenly sad he wouldn’t be home earlier. Maybe it was just the usual feeling of not wanting to be alone, because God forbid you actually started getting used to Taehyung’s presence. 

Taehyung rose from his seat and cast his iPad to the side, sliding on his suit jacket as he glanced at his watch, checking the time. You noticed yourself and flashed your vision to your iPad, gawking at the time and realizing you could be late. 

“Oh shit, I have to go.” 

“Me too, I’ll see you tonight, okay?” Taehyung confirmed as he made his way to the front door, fixing his sleeve. You propped off your own seat and began walking towards the stairs, just about ascending until Taehyung suddenly called your name. 

“Y/N!” He peeked out from the front door, seconds from leaving. 

“Yes?” 

“I hope you like the colour, it’s one of my favourites.” Taehyung smiled sweetly, sending his last farewell before he dashed out of the house. 

Your eyebrows shot up and practically gawked, immediately running up the stairs thinking of where to find this dress. He had to have hidden it from you considering he’s been doing so ever since he mysteriously bought it. 

You instinctively rushed into your shared bedroom to grab a scrunchy for the day, all distracted until you caught sight of a white box adorned with a black bow sitting atop your bed. 

Your eyes went wide just reading the infamous label. 

Chanel. 

You had to physically keep from flooring yourself, in disbelief he’d purchased you a Chanel dress. You were even more fearful to uncover it, the information of him buying it himself raking your brain. 

It was even his favourite colour, nearly swooning at the fact he chose for you to wear his favourite colour. So you made your way over to the box hesitantly, untying the ribbon and casting the lid aside cautiously, only to audibly gasp. 

Your eyes fell to a ruby red dress with a delicate V neckline, completely blown away he chose such a bold colour for you to wear. 

You carefully grabbed the dress to take it out of its box, revealing more to discover it was a floor-length gown. It produced a small train though lifted in the front to reveal the shoes you’d wear, the skirt of plain, thick fabric until you saw the torso area; light beading expanding from the stomach area eventually leading into the skirt. 

Shock wasn’t even the correct word to use, you were stunned, completely taken by his choice. The dress was simply gorgeous, beautiful in its own right and you were almost too afraid to wear it. 

Nonetheless, this event was important to Taehyung, so you took a deep breath, tucked the dress back into its box and mentally prepared yourself for the day ahead. 

It was bordering 6:30 now. 

You’d successfully left work early, around the 2 o’clock mark to come home and indulge in a 4 hour self-care routine. It’d seriously been too long since you last attended an event similar to this, grand in size and visited by at least a hundred people. 

It reminded you of your engagement party, though not entirely since there would paparazzi and would be your first real appearance with Taehyung ever since your wedding. 

And quite frankly, you really wanted look better than you did then. You labelled it pretty much a disaster since you were a catatonic mess regretting all her life choices, probably looking unappealing in all your photos. 

Along with knowing the impact Taehyung has, not only in the business world but in general also left you wanting to up your game. You were his wife now, and that came with a high amount of scrutiny and criticism having nabbed one of the most eligible bachelor’s in Korea.

You’d already given up ever checking any articles and avoided social media, knowing that there would be inevitably nasty and judgmental comments. This night was important though, where you’d flank him as the women he’s so-called ‘in love with’ or the ‘love of his life’. 

It also dawned on you Taehyung in fact had a high-valued reputation to uphold, and so did you as his wife. 

So as you stood before the mirror in the walk-in closet, inspecting your dress, you contemplated how you’d survive this night, how you would act as the perfect, most suitable wife to Taehyung. 

You really wanted to hide your face out of how dolled up you looked; your makeup was on the elegant side, not heavy but brushed up to look soft, completed with red lipstick that matched your dress and hair set around your face in loose waves. 

The dress looked almost embarrassingly good on you, Taehyung somehow having chosen the right sized dress as it hugged your every curve right, accentuating the right parts of your body and even the V neckline not dipping too low, but showing quite the generous amount of skin. 

You couldn’t stop blushing at all. 

Taehyung had finally arrived at the house, rushing inside quickly registering he was cutting the time close. “Y/N! I’m home!” he called for you, quickly checking his appearance in a mirror as he smoothed pieces of his parted hair, curling just before his eyes and revealing some forehead.

“I’m in our room!” 

He approved his own look in the mirror and jogged up the stairs, mentally preparing himself before he’d have to see you in the dress he chose, almost excited about it. 

He’d simply loved it at first sight, and couldn’t stop pondering what the striking colour would look like on you. So as Taehyung entered your bedroom, he became confused finding it empty. He then ventured further inside, catching sight of the ajar closet door and light beaming through. 

He sauntered over carefully, peeking inside and Taehyung’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor, almost stupidly. 

His eyes fell to you standing in front of the mirror, fidgeting as you looked at yourself in the dress with the back of it undone. 

And Taehyung had never seen anything more pretty in his life. 

He was speechless for the umpteenth time because of you, not even knowing how to begin a sentence because he might sound like a second grader if he did. So all Taehyung could muster up the literacy to say was “Wow.” 

You turned around instantly, eyes looking as though you were a deer caught in headlights. Taehyung’s eyes widened even more peering at the elegant front, jaw almost slack as he scanned over your body.

“T-Taehyung.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say. 

Taehyung still seemed to be struggling a little, eyes glued to you until he cleared his throat and looked away. “Um, yeah?” 

“S-sorry, but.. could you actually..?” And you did it again, angling your back towards Taehyung to call to the zipper of your dress. You really couldn’t try zipping it yourself, which left it sitting comfortably just at your lower back, your skin exposed to Taehyung. 

You could visibly see Taehyung flash his eyes to your skin until he looked elsewhere, nodding as he licked his lips. “Sure.” 

You watched him near you, his face blank as he took a handful of your hair and softly placed in front of you. He then brought his hand against your side to hold you in place, his other working for the zipper. It was another case of his rather hot breath fanning your back, almost teasingly zipping up your dress by simple inches. 

He was close again, closer than he’s been in a week and you sincerely hated it always affected you in some way. It made your chest flutter, suck in a breath you didn’t even need to hold in. You relaxed when Taehyung finally finished, his hands gripping your arms from behind as he looked at you through the mirror.

And for some odd reason, he liked how your heights contrasted each other. 

He had the slightest hint of a smile, eyes seeming to gleam with something you couldn’t quite decipher. 

“You look pretty.” He said, gazing at you through the reflection and you had to physically stop from beaming like an idiot. Your chest fills with butterflies, face collecting with heat at his compliment. 

How could an Adonis like him call you pretty?

You bit your lip, gazing up at his taller, impeccably dressed reflection as you admired him, his every feature crafted to a degree of perfection that left you in awe. 

“You look really handsome.” You complimented, watching his lips just about curve into a smile that met his eyes, and you wish he didn’t have to look so handsome when he smiled too. 

“Thank you.” He voiced before turning you around by your arms to face him. “Make sure you wear a coat tonight, it’s cold.” He informed, you nodding until your quick eyes spotted his tie loosened by just a centimeter, throwing you off. 

“Oh, your tie.” You exclaimed quietly, reaching for it without a thought and pushing it upwards, angling it to perfection. Taehyung suddenly froze, unexpecting of you doing such a thing and so proximal his nose flooded with your perfume, liking the scent. 

Peonies. 

He tensed with an unknown feeling until your gazes locked on each other, simply looking to look while your hands remained on his tie. He realized more than a second passed and Taehyung scrambled for something to say, sputtering.

“I’ll uh.. I’ll be waiting out front.” He assured as he stepped away, exiting the room quickly and leaving you to your lonesome. 

This was gonna be one hell of a night, you thought.

“Remember, there’s going to be a lot of cameras and people here. We’ll really need to act like a couple.” Taehyung sat beside you in the back of an Escalade, manspreading in all his glory and you were sincerely glad he couldn’t read your mind.

“Got it, let’s give em’ a show.” You cheered with your little fists, determined as the car arrived at the lavish venue. 

“Yeah, let’s do it.” Taehyung mimicked your action. “Don’t worry about getting nervous, I’m there.” He assured for good measure, gauging your affirmation.  

You nodded as you took a deep breath, smoothing over your dress and fixing your hair. Taehyung unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned into you, speaking near your ear. “I’ll get out first and open the door for you, wait here.” You tensed at the action before nodding again, Taehyung making his way out the car. 

He then opened your door as promised within seconds, greeting you with a warm smile as he held out his hand for you. You grinned back at him affectionately as you took it, adjusting your dress to step onto the concrete. 

You were met by dozens of camera flashes and a yelling crowd, shouting various things you couldn’t quite make out. You were almost distracted by it and felt a small sense of anxiety creep up you, until Taehyung pulled you flush against his side, hand curving around your waist.

You smiled up at him in accordance, and he beamed back as he walked you two down the carpet leading into the venue, casually ignoring all the noise and people. 

Taehyung guided you inside safely to where you were welcomed by a beautiful looking hall, pristine and extremely elegant. It was surely fitting for a grand gala. Your eyes caught a small crowd of photographers in the foyer snapping photos at a certain wall with a backdrop, curiosity dawning on you as Taehyung led you towards the coat check. 

“What’s happening there?” You pointed towards the scene. 

“Oh, exclusive press.” He snuck a look, stripping off his coat. “They’re the ones I was talking about, they’re gonna take pictures of us.” Taehyung answered distracted as he retrieved your coat and gave both to the coat checker, smiling a thank you. 

You didn’t even have time to really respond as Taehyung dragged you to the very scene, the pair of you next to have photos taken. You tried to process the whole thing as he walked you over, mentally preparing to look your best until Taehyung suddenly whispered lowly in your ear again. 

And again, it sent shivers down your spine. 

“Just smile and hold me, okay?” Your chest fluttered for an odd reason, nodding back to him as he brought you in front of the line of photographers. 

You stayed true to your promise and tucked an arm around his torso as the other draped his chest, closest to him as you could. Taehyung almost settled next to you until he felt something at his feet, noticing he was nearly stepping on your gown. 

He broke away from you, unexpectedly bending down to catch the skirt of your dress and delicately fix it behind you. You heard the hushed exclamations of the photographers, most of them doting on his considerate act as you just about protested, though suddenly remembered Taehyung’s words from today. 

It was probably better to stay silent. 

So you simply smiled as you watched Taehyung adjust your dress, feeling a warm sensation spread across your chest when he returned even though it most likely was for show, his hands coming back on you. 

This time you didn’t try to suppress anything, allowing some of your feelings to manifest into a real smile, remembering you were to appear as a couple anyway. 

And whether or not there was some truth to your expressions, was anyone really keeping track?

You two began posing for the photographers, smiling in all directions and clutching onto each other closely. You occasionally tried different angles to look better, everything going smoothly until you heard someone shout out, eyes widening as a result.

“Kiss her!” 

It wasn’t long before the other photographers began agreeing, encouraging Taehyung to kiss you and you had no clue how he would react. You were slightly biting your lip as you were occupied avoiding eye contact, that was until Taehyung quietly called you.

“Y/N, look at me.” 

“Hm?” You instinctively responded and looked up at him, completely taken by surprise when Taehyung suddenly planted a soft kiss to your forehead. Your eyes visibly went wider, only his chest to stare at until he eventually disconnected.

He returned his eyes to you and grinned at your wide-eyed reaction, suddenly reminding you. “Smile,” he encouraged with the flash of his own boxy grin, wanting to see you smile. 

And it damn well worked. 

Taehyung was right about the size of this gala. 

Huge. 

It was grand, the entire hall seeming to be spat right out of a castle with about a hundred fancy-looking people inside. You thought it would’ve been uninteresting and difficult to communicate with others tonight and put on your best fake smile, though the night’s atmosphere amassed with champagne, good food and great conversationalists left you in a better mood than you expected. 

It was actually quite fun, finding yourself genuinely conversing with the people Taehyung dragged you to meet, keeping to your promise of staying right by his side the whole night, and he kept his, never having left you. 

You’d met various people, having gotten familiar to Taehyung’s high-status world of business and relations. Long story short, Taehyung knew a lot of people, and you were surprised at how extroverted he suddenly seemed.  

He was practically a social butterfly, not having forgotten a single name of who he spoke to along with somehow remembering personal details about their lives. It left you impressed, joining along with his light-hearted conversation with your own extrovert tendencies. 

Everyone you’d met had been nice so far, but by far the most amusing people you’d met had to have been Taehyung’s 5 best friends, the same ones you’d seen in his photographs. 

“Y/N, this is Kim Namjoon and Seokjin, they’re brothers.” 

Both tall and quite frankly broad men greeted you warmly, one of them having a nice dimply smile while the other was far too handsome to be looked at for free. 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” They said after another, reaching out to shake your hand. “We’re co-CEOs of one of Korea’s largest private airline.” Namjoon of the two informed.   

“Likewise. And wow, that’s impressive.” You complimented. “Might I also say, you’re both.. tall.” You had to almost crane your neck to meet their eyes, thankful for the heels you were wearing as the group laughed at your remark. 

“Perhaps, though you’re quite short yourself, Y/N.” Seokijn commented light-heartedly, causing you to playfully pout and retort him. “Oh c’mon, I hear that from Taehyung already, not you too.” You giggled, absentmindedly leaning into Taehyung as he tensed, your body pressing into his. 

“It’s cause Taehyung likes short girls, teasing means he likes you.”  A built looking man with longer hair suddenly joked, nudging Taehyung with his elbow.

“Shut up, Jungkook. I was gonna give you a proper introduction, not anymore.” Taehyung scolded, though Jungkook persisted. 

“Well, you just said my name, that’s already half the intro.” Jungkook then gently took your hand, placing a chaste kiss against the back of it you didn’t expect at all. 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Jeon Jungkook, CEO of Korea’s largest game development company.” Jungkook sent you a kind smile and it was hard to not compare him to a bunny, his teeth reminding you of one. 

“Yah, don’t do that” Taehyung swatted Jungkook’s hand away, protesting disapprovingly. 

“Woah, did Taehyung just get jealous?” Namjoon inquired shocked.

“Somebody get their phone out, we’ll need evidence I didn’t hit him first.” Jungkook held up his hands in mock surrender. 

“Jungkook, the only thing we’re finding in our phones is videos of you nibbling on carrots.” Taehyung quipped and it made the group chortle, yourself speaking up at the mention of a rabbit. 

“Actually, I was thinking you resemble a bunny.” You simply wanted to voice an observation, though it sent the whole group into a frenzy. 

“See Jungkook! Other people notice it too!” A man you hadn’t been introduced to yet suddenly burst out, though you could automatically tell he gave off this radiant energy that was infectious. 

He almost felt like the sun. 

“Whatever, Hoseok, you’re like a squirrel.” Jungkook countered and you digested the man’s name for information. 

“And you’re a rabbit, you better buy me what we wagered.” Hoseok scolded from what you could assume, was the younger of the two. 

“Wagered? I don’t remember anything about that.” Jungkook feigned innocence as he looked off to the side.

“Jungkook, we were all there that day, you owe Hoseok a vending machine.” Namjoon spoke up, laughing through the remark. 

“Guys. Y/N is literally right here, we didn’t even introduce ourselves properly.” A man with a fairly sweet voice interjected. He had such soft visuals, almost similar to an angel if you wanted to be honest. 

He then looked to you with a sweet smile, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Park Jimin, CEO of Park Hotels & Resorts”

“This is his event.” Taehyung informed.

“Ohh, nice to meet you!” You perked up, his aura making you feel all comfortable and giggly, there was just something about his bubbly energy. 

The man named Hoseok then extended his hand, “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Jung Hoseok. Sorry for the late introduction, but I basically own a bunch of famous clubs across Korea.” He laughed all dimply and warm, and he really did remind you of the sun. 

“Oh wow, hopefully we’ll get to visit sometime! Clubs are so fun.” You lit up, all excited about a good club scene until Taehyung ruined your fun. 

“Nuh uh, not after your little drunk scene at our engagement party.” Taehyung looked down at you and chastised. 

“Taehyung, it wasn’t even that much. Don’t be dramatic.” You scolded him back. 

“Alright Miss I’m-Not-A-Lightweight, I almost had to carry you.” 

“I was walking just fine last time I remembered.” You crossed your arms and feigned innocence, Taehyung growing scandalized. 

“Oh really, now?” He cocked an eyebrow, just about to continue until Namjoon interjected. “Looks like married life’s been treating you guys well.” 

“Of course, they look practically in love.” Hoseok beamed sarcastically, gesturing towards you both.

“C’mon, Taehyung, tell us what you love about her. Let’s see the simping.” Jungkook playfully taunted Taehyung, egging him on.  

“Shut up. You all already know our marriage isn’t real.” Taehyung rebutted the younger man, eyes narrowed. 

You were taken aback, eyes flashing to Taehyung. “They know?” 

“Of course they do, your best friend knows too, doesn’t she?” Taehyung was referring to Hana, and you acquiesced realizing he had a point. 

“You know, you guys say it’s a fake marriage but you look pretty close to me.” Jimin pointed towards Taehyung’s arm still hugging around your waist, causing you both to realize and promptly disconnect. 

“No, we aren’t.” You and Taehyung retorted at the same time, vision snapping to each other with shocked eyes. 

“Oh c’mon, Tae, you’re really gonna say about your wife?” Seokjin teased him, playful lilt to his tone. 

“Yeah, Taehyung, just look at her, how aren’t you whipped already?” Jungkook remarked as he gestured towards you, feeling shy as your feet shuffled. 

“I’m not answering that.” Taehyung bit back with an irritated tone, folding his arms as he broke eye contact with the group. 

You decided to lighten the mood. “Guys, please, the only thing Taehyung’s whipped for is his company.” You joked, and despite the small sense of hurt saying that sentence, you felt joy making the men suddenly laugh so loudly. 

Taehyung’s shy and embarrassed expression was even more priceless. 

“Oh my God, Y/N, you’re seriously the perfect match for him.” Hoseok added on as he laughed and you couldn’t help but bite back a smile, not knowing what he meant by that though taking it as a compliment.

“Alright guys, remember we had a mission: operation make-Taehyung-and-Y/N’s-marriage-seem-real-as-fuck.” Jungkook suddenly put on the theatrics and halted the group, changing the conversation. 

“Oh yeah, we had a whole plan, didn’t we?” Jimin remembered. 

“Yup. Gotta prepare them for nosey press and annoying relatives. We should start with questions they’d get asked. Make it like a fake interview or something.” Namjoon suggested, leading along the others as he pretended to hold a microphone. 

“You’re all some of the richest men in Seoul yet you’re acting like children. I don’t know you people.” Taehyung tried waving the men off while you couldn’t help but laugh, finding them the most fun people you’ve encountered. 

Childish or not, they were completely unexpected of what you thought a group of CEOs. They didn’t live up to the cliché uptight and uber sophisticated stereotype, rather open and acted however they chose. 

It was refreshing. 

“It’s cause we’re friends with you, Taehyung.” Hoseok shot back and it made everyone snicker. 

“I got it. Let’s ask them to spill some details about each other only they’d know. Someone’s bound to ask that.” Seokjin reasoned, gauging agreeance from the others. 

“Oh my God, you guys already know our marriage is fake. Why would you make this up?” You asked through a giggle, still finding the situation comical. 

“Sorry Mrs. Kim, but that’s precisely why, and I’m afraid we don’t know what you mean by ‘fake’. Now tell the good press something about Mr. Kim we don’t know.” Jungkook began the skit as he held his fake microphone towards you, the others joining in as though imitating paparazzi. 

“Alright, this is gonna be exclusive, pens ready?” You decided to join them, and they all nodded in confirmation as Taehyung flashed his eyes to you, unprepared for you to play along. 

“Mr. Kim is quite something.” You addressed him formally for effect. “He acts all mysterious and cool, but he’s actually just a cuddler who likes tea and cuts the crusts off his bread.” You relayed with a wide grin, all of them suddenly exclaiming and reacting like a high schooler has just confessed the name of their crush. 

“Oh my God, Tae, seriously? Bread crusts? What are you, like, 3?” Seokjin teased. 

“Hyung, your ears literally turn red when people give you attention. Are you 3?” Taehyung retorted and it only elicited more noise from the group, Seokjin exclaiming defensively and Taehyung bringing a hand up to his forehead, sighing. 

“Guys! Okay, let’s get some real answers here. We gotta know what Y/N would say if someone asked her.. maybe some things she likes about Taehyung. Let’s hear it.” Jimin got everyone back on track, attention on you. 

You smiled nervously and flashed a look towards Taehyung, who still had this arms folded and vision looking off to the side, ignoring the entire situation before him. 

You could tell he was pissed with the way his jaw locked, though the fact that he wasn’t paying attention made you a little more confident. 

Taehyung wasn’t exactly pissed, though if he could bonk all his friends on the head a few times he would. He knew teasing and jokes were all common within the group, he just didn’t expect to be the sole target tonight, and so he decided to smoothly neglect the conversation altogether. 

He was succeeding, not expecting you to answer their question seriously until Taehyung suddenly heard you speak up, surprised eyes flickering to you. 

“Hmm, if I had to say..” You were hesitant, Taehyung shocked you were even answering. 

What would you say? 

“He has nice, big hands.” You admitted softly, Taehyung’s brows raising with surprise. “He has a nice voice, too, and... his smile.” You added as you nodded to yourself, confirming your own list and Taehyung was left damn near speechless once again. 

He didn’t really know how to act, acknowledging his face as the most common thing people liked about him, rarely ever hearing those aspects of himself mentioned. 

And he oddly felt.. nice.

“Awh, now that’s cute, good job, Y/N.” Jungkook praised you, Hoseok then pointing his make-believe mic in Taehyung’s direction. 

“Your turn, Chairman Kim, what do you like most about your wife?” He mimicked an interviewer and everyone followed in accordance, mics shifting towards him. 

“Uhh..” Taehyung became slightly nervous under everyone’s scrutiny, not knowing if he should assume his usual unreadable nature or answer their request truthfully. 

“Tae, dude, if you don’t say anything then I will.” Jungkook declared, just about ready to speak again until you cut him off, snorting. 

“Don’t sweat it, guys. He won’t say anything.” You really knew Taehyung would have nothing to say, so you crossed your arms and became uninterested in the conversation.

Until Taehyung spoke. 

“She does this pouting thing.. with her lips. It’s cute.” Taehyung started, coming up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly and peer at anything but a pair of eyes. “Her height.. and her eyes. She has nice eyes.” 

The floor had to be tired of you by now, because Taehyung seemed to make you want to fall hard pretty often. You didn’t know what to do, eyes blown and nearly on the verge of choking, unable to believe a Godly being like Taehyung just admitted to liking something about you. 

Is this what it feels like to win at life?

His words kept ringing in your head, melting into a shy mess with your cheeks beyond hot, avoiding eye contact with everyone while Taehyung grew slightly embarrassed, similarly looking off to the side. 

“Holy shit, you guys are actually cute.” Jimin remarked through a chuckle as he  pointed at you both, you and Taehyung mirroring the same look of horror while protesting at the same time. “No we aren’t!” 

And it only made the men crack up even harder. 

It was laugh after laugh as that conversation went on, finding a quick and pleasant liking to Taehyung’s friends. They’d made it clear as day they liked you as well, to be precise they seemed to love you, making playful nudges at Taehyung for saying yes to someone just right for him; and you seriously pondered what that exactly meant. 

It was further into the night now, the gala having picked up in activity and passed the long social hour, now leading into more of a party scene as upbeat music filled the hall. 

You’d stuck with Taehyung the whole night as promised, having met more of the people he knew. The evening had been quite calm, both you and Taehyung having silently, though mutually ignored the conversation from before for sanity purposes, only focusing on the additional people you met. 

Taehyung and yourself had been talking up a storm with Jimin for the past half an hour, Taehyung introducing him as his best friend and getting the full run down of how that came about. It was highly entertaining, listening to mentions of alcohol, 4AM fighting and even an incident with dumplings. 

It had you three laughing merrily while music played, Taehyung’s arm draped around you like it had been for majority of the night, practically hugging you to him. He was elaborating on a story that had something to do with a dream-catcher, all smiles and giggles. 

That was until Taehyung suddenly froze next to you, sight seeming to set on a person behind Jimin and he immediately changed his aura. 

“Jimin, what the fuck? Did you invite him?” Taehyung cocked his head in the general direction, eyes set hard. 

Jimin’s eyebrows shot up and and casually looked behind him, registering the culprit himself and turning back to Taehyung. “Holy shit, no, I didn’t.” 

“Then why is he here?” 

“Fuck, I don’t know, Tae. My parents probably invited him, I’m sorry.” Jimin apologized as he rubbed the back of his neck, growing apprehensive.

“Don’t worry, Jimin. It’s just.. not him, not fucking him.” Taehyung’s voice grew a little darker, almost hateful as his hand gripped around you tighter.  

“Taehyung, what’s wrong?” You asked tentatively, though didn’t exactly get a response since Taehyung became distracted, talking more so to himself. 

“Why the fuck is he here of all people? Of all damn people..” Taehyung scoffed to himself humorlessly, clearly annoyed. 

“Taehyung, who?” 

“Nobody, we’re getting a drink. Jimin, please?” Taehyung and Jimin had a conversation with their eyes, Jimin immediately nodding and moving towards a certain man you barely caught sight off before Taehyung was pulling you away. You tried protesting, but the tightened grip around you and Taehyung’s frustrated expression was enough to shut you up. 

Something was seriously wrong. 

You followed him along quietly until you heard a bit of a commotion behind you, able to distinguish Jimin’s voice protesting. You almost looked back until a stranger suddenly snuck up on Taehyung, draping an arm over him. 

“Kim Taehyung! Where you going? Damn, it’s been long.” The man spoke as he lowered his hand to Taehyung’s back, nearly smacking it as though they were old time buddies. 

Though the expression that painted Taehyung’s face said completely otherwise; he looked extremely irritated, and not the playful type. 

“Hisung, yeah, it has.” Taehyung bleakly acknowledged him, said man with an arm still draped over Taehyung’s shoulders until he shrugged him off harshly, pulling you closer to him protectively.

It made the man direct his attention to you. “Oh, this is your wife, right? Nice to meet you, Han Hisung.” The man smiled and extended his hand, not knowing if you should extend yours until Taehyung blatantly cut the man off, physically blocking his hand. 

“Skip the pleasantries, Hisung, what do you want?” You were shocked to see this emotion on Taehyung; rarely having seen him frustrated, trying to manage his annoyance as he gave Hisung a dead stare, intimidating as ever. 

Though Hisung didn’t cower like everyone else did, seeming to rather thrive.

“I don’t want anything. I can’t just meet your wife?” He coated his tone condescendingly, gesturing towards you. 

“No, you can’t. We’re getting a drink.” Taehyung seriously seemed bothered as he began walking you away with him, the harder squeeze of his hand around you indicating he was either growing more irritated, didn’t want to let you go, or a mix of both. 

“Oh, c’mon.” Hisung pulled Taehyung back by the shoulder but Taehyung becomes irritated, shoving his arm away harshly. 

“Not now, Hisung. Not at Jimin’s event.” Taehyung warned him as though he was crossing a fine line, and you grew afraid of what would occur if that were compromised.  

“What, I’m not doing anything.” Hisung held out his arms, feigning innocence. “I gotta say though, if I wanted one thing it’d be to say your wife’s hot as fuck.” He cocked an eyebrow and began eyeing you in your dress, growing uncomfortable and sending him a dirty look, though you naturally leaned closer towards Taehyung and he took notice. 

“Say that again I’ll make you regret it, Hisung.” Taehyung’s jaw was locked, a protective feeling overwhelming him. 

“You’re seriously gonna introduce her to everyone but me?” Hisung looked offended. “She should know who I am, especially to you.” He tried making a point, eluding to something between them. 

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Taehyung flat out rejected him, his expression blunt as he seemed to radiate unbothered energy. 

“I think you should. She should know the kind of man her husband is, and what he’s done.” He said knowingly, in a daunting way that accused Taehyung of something that seemed deeper than it looked.  

“There’s nothing to know, and I never did anything.” Taehyung simply denied, as though he’s said this multiple times.

“Really? You don’t wanna tell her about how you sabotage people? Use your money to buy success?” 

Taehyung had to pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing out frustrated. “For fuck’s sake, how many times do I have to tell you? I’ve never done shit like that. Leave.” Taehyung finalized, attempting to control his anger.

You were trying to remain calm and look on objectively, though felt a sense of worry for where this was going, only Taehyung’s seemingly instinctive guard on you keeping you from anxiety. 

Hisung scoffed, “You know, your wife should know how much of a fucking liar you are.” He spat, his vision suddenly growing narrowed as he eyed you both suspiciously. “Come to think of it, wife kinda sounds like a stretch.” 

This time it wasn’t even Taehyung responding, you beating him to the punch. “Excuse me? The fuck does that mean?” 

“Oh, so she talks.” 

You were just about stepping forward to give this asshole a piece of your mind until Taehyung suddenly gripped onto your arms from behind, pulling you to him protectively.

“Hisung, what the fuck do you want?” Taehyung’s tone was leveled with a sense of controlled rage, clear effort to contain himself and you were completely understanding of that. 

“Not much. I just find your marriage suspicious, and if I do then others do too. Wouldn’t want to taint the precious Kim reputation with that, now would we?” The remark was sly, causing Taehyung’s hold around you to tense.  

“What the fuck are you implying, exactly? Try making some sense.” 

“Your marriage isn’t convincing, jackass. There’s no way you two are really married, don’t think I don’t know there’s something behind it.” He stared squarely back at Taehyung, determined. “And when I get my hands on that information, don't think you're the only one who can sabotage someone.” Hisung was resolute as he declared his threat, only making Taehyung more resentful, more rash. 

“Your opinion doesn’t matter to me, jackass. Nothing you do does” Taehyung was confident in the argument and it oddly made you proud, now understanding why he was so successful and well-acclaimed. It’s like he truly didn't care what others thought and only lived for the purpose of what he found important to him, contributing to his confidence and composed approach towards life. He carried himself with an affirmed sense of self-worth that never bordered egotistical, and you were lying if you said it wasn’t hot sometimes. 

Because scratch that, it was incredibly hot. 

Hisung laughed humourlessly, hissing. “I don’t think we can say the same about Mrs. Kim, though, her opinion should matter to you, right?” He then suddenly turned his vision to you and drew closer, speaking in a superficially saccharine tone. “Jagiya, you should really look into who your husband is. He’s not half the man he says he is.” Hisung suddenly came too close and Taehyung immediately tugged you behind him, shielding your smaller frame as his tone dangerously darkened. 

“Don’t call her that, and never fucking come near her.” Taehyung was seething now, clutching one of your hands so tightly you became worried of his heightened emotions.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Hisung mimicked him. “She should know I’d treat her better than her asshole of a husband, make sure she’s nice and satisfied with how much of a man I am compared to you.” Hisung remarked without a single care, and you nearly felt the blooding searing in Taehyung’s veins. 

But you could tell that was exactly Hisung’s goal; to rile Taehyung up and it unfortunately worked. No longer was the calm, cool and collected Taehyung you knew, instead feeling him suddenly rush towards Hisung with a fist until you gripped onto his jacket from behind, calling his name. 

“Tae.” Your voice was soft, immediately stopping him as you clutched urgently. Taehyung could hear the frailty of your worried voice, could feel your little hold on his jacket as he came to his senses.

Taehyung grinded his teeth hard as his fist tightened for a mere second before steadily loosening, calming himself down before he made his last remark. “Go fuck yourself, Hisung.” Taehyung spat with pure disdain as he turned around and swept up your hand, leading you away from the situation as far as possible. 

He pulled you along hastily, walking with a sense of speed that almost had you tripping on your dress. You were seconds from telling him to slow down until he stopped you both in a hallway.

“Taehyung, wh-” You almost got out until Taehyung suddenly pushed you up against the nearest wall, breath hot and heavy as he huffed frustratedly, raw anger written all over him. 

Taehyung’s entire towering body was unexpectedly inches from you, his forearms laid against the marble tiling above your head as he hung his own low, almost trying to conceal his face into your shoulder. It’s like he was blocking you off from any other person, defensively caging you as his chest rose and fell shallowly with white hot anger, your face tucked into his shoulder. His heated breath was continuously tickling the exposed skin of your neck, so close your heart was beating faster than it should’ve. 

You were only left shocked, hands fallen slack by your sides and unable to move. 

“I’m sorry.” He huffed out suddenly. “Fuck, I’m so sorry I’m just.. really angry right now and I can’t calm down.” Taehyung seemed infuriated though worried, his hands clutching into fists above you as he leaned in even closer, mere centimeters between you two as he remained pressed into your personal space.

“Shit, don’t be scared I just-fuck, I hate him. He’s the only person who makes me so angry.” Taehyung breathed out frustratedly, eyes shut as he tried to control himself. “And fuck, I didn’t want him near you. I don’t want him to talk to you. I don’t want anyone to fucking come near you.” 

Taehyung’s confessions kept coming and you were simply taken aback, another show of his emotions on full display and you wondered how he always so neatly composed himself.

“Tae-”

“Just stay in front of me, please.” He begged. “Where I can see you, just stay here.” He stressed, trying his best to breathe properly but only failed. “I don’t.. think I like when other guys are around you.” He confessed out of nowhere, trying to work through the claim hesitantly at first until he eventually nodded, affirming it. 

“Yeah, I don’t like it.” He declared as he continued to lean in, his proximity allowing for you to constantly smell his intoxicating, Invictus cologne; its sexy scent paired with his perfectly tailored suit hugging the curves of his large, broad body only arousing your nerves. 

“God, fuck.” He huffed out. “No matter what, stay away from Hisung. Never talk to him. He ruins everything he touches, every fucking thing.” Taehyung was dead serious, still hiding his face from you as he spoke angrily near your ear. “He’s been trying to ruin me for years. He’s already tried with everything else and he’ll come for you. He can’t ruin our marriage, and I swear to God if he fucking does anything to you-”

“Taehyung, hey, shh.” You brought your hands up to his chest to try calming him down, able to discern Taehyung ever rarely grew angry and when he did, just needed someone to quell his troubles. “Breathe, Taehyung, breathe, okay?” You spoke with a soft tone, trying to contrast the white hot anger you could sense in him by rubbing his chest pacifyingly. 

Taehyung immediately tensed at the action, almost in shock until he ultimately tried to breathe, slow and steady. 

“There you go, that’s better.” You encouraged into his shoulder, hands resting and lightly massaging as you inquired. “Talk to me, Taehyung, what’s wrong? Who’s Hisung?” 

“Fuck, I’ll get angry again.” He warned, breath still hot and heavy as you smoothed over his dress shirt, trying to soothe him.  

“It’s okay. I’m here, Tae, you have me. Tell me anything.” You assured and attempted to mirror his own words from a week ago, worried about his open show of emotions and thinking you should be helpful, make sure you're supplying all the support he needs because he may never be this open again. 

Taehyung’s temper was still high, more of his hot breath on your shoulder as he spoke, lips still by your ear and the bass in his voice sending currents through you. 

“It goes back 3 years, rival companies.” He began. “His father was dismissed as CEO and they held a shareholders meeting to decide a new one. Long story short, he won the vote, but only by a 49-51 percent margin. He barely scrapped by, and after he was appointed CEO he found out his major shareholders voted against him. What made things worse was that right after, they pulled all their shares from his company and invested in mine, and he fucking-” Taehyung was growing frustrated again recounting the story, his body rising and falling faster until your hands snaked up to his jaw, fingers splaying across his cheeks as you held his face pacifyingly. 

“Taehyung, breathe again. You’re fine.” You felt him listen to you, breathing deeply as he became more composed again, continuing.

“He thinks I sabotaged him, that I colluded with his shareholders and used my money when I never did. I only had acquainted relationships with them at the time and never convinced them of anything. They told me they chose to invest because they saw me as the better company, the more competent CEO.” Taehyung was venting, and you let him exactly do so by attentively listening, holding him. 

“It wasn’t my fault, but he thinks it is. And now he’s made it his life’s mission to ruin mine, ruin anything he can get his hands on because he’s convinced I ruined his.” Taehyung sounded upset, clearly fed up with having to deal with such an incessant pain in the ass. 

“Just not you,” He sounded like he was pleading, a whisper. “Not fucking you, he can’t ruin us, or our marriage.”  

“He won’t, Taehyung. We won’t let him.” The pads of your thumbs smoothed over Taehyung’s skin, trying to ease him as he moved back slightly, vision meeting yours.

“Y/N, I don’t lie. I wouldn’t sabotage anybody, I don’t play dirty like that. Even if the business world is riddled with people like that, I would never do it. I’m not like that at all.” A hint of desperation leaked into his tone, eyes gentle as he so emphatically tried to convince you he was nothing like Hisung said. 

And you found your heart softening thinking about the fact that it affected him so much. That while he didn’t care what others thought of him, he somehow valued what you thought. 

“Taehyung, don’t worry, I know, okay? You’re completely fine. He just tries to rile you up because he knows you’re better, more competent.” You slid your hands back down over his neck, letting them rest over his strong chest again. It made your breaths uneven, registering how close he was to you, just inches from your face. 

“He probably knows those shareholders chose you because you’re the better CEO. He knows it, he just tries to deny the truth by looking for ways to ruin your life, so he doesn’t have to accept he’s inferior.” You offered earnestly, rhythmically smoothing him over. Taehyung’s eyes suddenly swirled with a sense of ease, his tense body now seeming to relax. “You think so?” 

“Of course, Tae. You’re nothing like that, I know you’re not.” You said determinedly, gripping his shirt lightly to drive your point forward, eyes conveying warmth. 

Though the response that met you was Taehyung gazing into your eyes boldly as he heard you address him so casually by a nickname already, his look containing something you couldn’t decipher, and it left butterflies swarming your chest. 

You didn’t realize how intoxicatingly close you both were in this position; Taehyung’s arms caging you against the wall, body pressing into you as he looked at you, not breathing hard anymore but hotly, like he was feeling something he was attempting to manage. Your hands funnily contrasted the size of his chest as he glanced at them, then up at him, clutching him a little tighter the more the tension seemed to build.  

It was obvious now, both of you were merely staring at each other, Taehyung’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed and your eyes followed the movement, something unknown alighting inside you at the image. It called necessary attention to his sculpted neck and you found yourself wondering if you’d ever get to lay kisses on it, possibly even mark it

You bit your lip at the thought, hating that such an idea dawned on you, igniting with something unholy the more you breathed in his sexy scent, his large body enclosing you. It sent chills down your spine, trying to contain yourself by shifting and clamping down on your lip harder.

Taehyung’s eyes flickered to the very action, his undivided attention now on your mouth. He could feel every harder squeeze of your hands on his chest as the heat rose, fisting his own hands against the wall with the need to draw himself closer to you, especially with the way you looked right now. 

Taehyung already couldn’t keep his hands off you when you resembled the hottest, and yet most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen in that dress. Either a sweet angel descended from heaven or the right kind of demon he craved. It was even more difficult knowing it’s a dress he chose, adoring the way you were wrapped up in his favourite colour, and thought red has never looked better on anyone else.

It also made him think of some things he shouldn’t speak aloud. Though Taehyung knew you, and knew you weren't ready for anything of that sort, so he remained collected and only stuck to having an arm around you tonight, mindful of boundaries. 

But when you were under his scrutiny, smaller self tucked against a wall because of him and clearly hot and bothered yourself, your exposed skin raking his brain, he couldn’t keep from nearing your lips. 

He’s once felt how soft they were before, seeing on multiple occasions how plushy they truly are and desiring to feel that same soft sensation again. So he disregarded all thought, coming forward inch by inch as he gauged your response, and when he viewed you fluttering your eyes shut and lifting your head towards him, he fought back cracking a smirk. 

Taehyung was milliseconds from connecting your mouths, feeling the skin of his lips blissfully brush yours as his sweet breath invaded your mouth, only for a frantic voice suddenly calling out his name to interrupt, the very culprit tumbling into the hallway. 

“Taehyung! Y/N- oh shit.” Taehyung immediately ducked his face away from you and you hastily let him go, Taehyung puffing out frustrated air as he met his friends’ eyes. “Jimin.. what?” 

“I-uh. I’m sorry, but I got Hisung kicked out and we’re gonna start the last toast. You guys should um...be there.” Jimin cleared his throat and began shuffling, avoiding eye contact with the both of you. 

“Okay, we’re coming.” 

“Sorry, again.” Jimin bowed lightly and nearly made a break for it. 

Taehyung sighed heavily, pushing himself off the wall and straightening up as he freed you, finally able to breathe peacefully. 

“We should um.. go.” He voiced awkwardly.

“Yeah.. just give me a second. I’ll be back from the restroom.” You dared to make eye contact with him to seem unaffected, though panicked the instant your gazes locked.

“Okay.” He nodded, seeming unbothered.

You grasped the skirt of your dress and your heels clacked against the tiled flooring as you scurried off, needing to find the bathroom to see whether or not you appeared as much of a mess as you felt. 

You bolted inside and ran towards the sink, spotting two women possibly your age by the mirror though ultimately ignored them, patting over your cheeks to feel how warm they were. 

Were you really just seconds away from kissing Taehyung? Kissing him? What would’ve happened if Jimin never walked in? Would you have kissed him for however long, would you have stopped it? 

Even better question, why didn’t you stop it? Why were you so ready to kiss him, maybe even excited by the very idea? It sent a chill down your spine, even recalling that Taehyung stated earlier he liked your lips. 

Kim Taehyung liked your lips, the same ridiculously high-status, wealthy man people were on their knees for, practically Seoul’s most powerful CEO and Korea’s seemingly unattainable bachelor; that same Taehyung was the one who liked not only your lips, but your height, even your eyes. 

He said they were nice. 

You didn’t even want to unbox the entire Hisung situation. He so naturally defended you, even held you back out of consideration for your safety it seemed, and it frightened you how much you liked it, liked that he was so protective and made all those confessions about disliking other men around you.

It may have been possessive, but you fucking liked it. 

And you already felt doomed. 

You were simply imploding on yourself, having your own personal meltdown when one of the two women audaciously addressed you, tone light and airy. 

“Oh my God, are you Min Y/N?” She inquired. 

You flashed your eyes to her, answering with furrowed eyebrows. “Uh, Kim Y/N now, but yes.” 

“Wow, so you’re the woman Kim Taehyung married?” The other one perked up. 

“..Yes.” You answered confused.  

The other woman really scoffed here, scoffed, “Song-i, it’s the other way around. She married him.” The rather rude looking woman clarified, and you found out right after just how rude she was. “The Kim Taehyung would never willingly marry someone like her.” 

Your expression immediately contorted, unbelieving of her audacity. “Excuse me?” 

“Don’t think we’re stupid, everyone knows you seduced him into it.” She nearly spat, tone snobby as ever. 

You guffawed humourlessly, truly having it up to here with today because it seemed never-ending with bullshit. “Think what you want, but I didn’t seduce him.” 

“We know you’re lying, he wouldn’t marry some runaway like you. You came out of nowhere, you clearly got into his bed before you got him to the altar.” The other one added on, painting their twisted narrative together. 

“It wasn’t like that all, but if you want to think so because you’re not the one he takes home at night, then be my fucking guest.” You countered them, look sharp enough you were sure you could cut a diamond. 

They both took immediate offence, having the audacity to near you and invade your personal space. “You’re not the only woman he’s taken home, do you really think you’re special?” She insinuated something you weren’t dumb enough to not catch, heart sinking at the thought. 

“What exactly are you trying to get at?” 

“The fact that he married you as a favour, you runaway, and everyone knows your marriage isn’t love at all.” She relayed with a snippy tone. “Don’t you get you’re just charity to him? Everyone knows it, sweetie.” 

You were trying hard to think of a way to counter, though your stinging heart took the jab like it was white hot lightning. You felt crushed within seconds at the comment hitting home, sinking lower until you spoke up. 

“Our marriage isn’t your business. Maybe try getting a life before you revolve it around mine.” You spat as you sent them a petty look, making your way out and almost exiting until you felt a splash of water hitting the back of your hair, mouth falling agape at the sheer audacity of what just fucking happened. 

“Your life is fucking miserable. You’ll stay by his side but he’ll never love you. Keep acting like your his real wife and see what’ll happen. Everyone hates you and how you made him marry you out of pity. Watch your back, runaway, you never know when he might end it all and break your little heart.” You almost, almost turned around to land a right hook across the girl’s face until you decided against it, composing yourself with a breathing mantra and instead choosing your favourite way of leaving a bad situation. 

With a snarky last word. 

“Seems he’s already broken yours with this ring, huh? Stay mad at the ring bitches, stay mad at the ring.” You smiled condescendingly as you flaunted Taehyung’s twelve thousand dollar ring, walking out of the bathroom despite their exclamations and practically marching towards the hall, seething. 

You arrived inside and plopped down on your seat next to Taehyung bitterly, utterly vexed as you crossed your arms and grinded your teeth. 

“Hey, where were you?” Taehyung asked. “You missed the toast.” 

“Could’ve done it without me anyway.” You replied curtly, all the information you received in just 2 minutes ruling your thoughts and sending you into a storm of anger, spoiling your mood. 

Taehyung became confused. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Nothing.” You huffed and reached for your glass of water, taking a large swig and nearly slamming it back onto the table. 

Taehyung reacted surprised. “Seriously, what’s wrong?” He became apprehensive of your mood, grabbing your hand on the table gently as he searched for your eyes. 

Though he instead found your eyes flashing towards something else, someone else before you snatched your hand away, eyes set cold.  

“I said nothing.” 

Taehyung followed your previous line of sight and landed on two women finding their seats a few tables away, their own eyes immediately deflecting from him once he made eye contact.

And it really only took two seconds for Taehyung to connect the dots, recognizing their faces. 

Taehyung sighed heavily, feeling guilty and suddenly apologetic about the possible situation, knowing something must have been said to you. 

He turned back around, “Y/N, what happened?” He tried inquiring again, though you responded with absolutely nothing, completely crossed and avoiding him. 

He exhaled tiredly, this day having been the epitome of a joke. Taehyung was scanning over you again when he suddenly noticed the ends of your hair, distinguishing they were wet and he found it strange. “Y/N, why the fuck is your hair wet?” He was moving to touch the damp parts until you evaded him, tone rigid. 

“Nothing, Taehyung.” 

Taehyung sighed again, frustrated as he once again put two-and-two together, remembering you’d all come from the restroom and addressed you. “What did they say, Y/N? Tell me right now, is that why your hair’s wet?” 

“No, Taehyung, nothing happened,” You stressed, turning your body even further away from him and crossing your arms tighter. 

Taehyung determined he’s truly had enough of today and rose from his seat, you noticing though choosing to ignore him. Taehyung quickly resolved he was going to fix this, beyond agitated this entire day had been damned to hell. He was having a good time too, especially keeping in mind whatever in God’s name was happening between you two, and only knowing that it made him inexplicably happy for some reason. 

Though that mood was ruined now, Taehyung shaking away his thoughts as he began plotting his approach towards your situation, entirely pissed off as he made his way towards the bar, concocting his plan. 

It took Taehyung only a good 10 minutes to get what he needed, snatching the nicest bottle of champagne and trying to remember where he’d observed the two women sitting, strolling his way over to the table with his fakest grin.  

“Good evening, ladies.” He greeted with a saccharine tone as he neared them. 

“Oh my God, Taehyung!” One of the girls beamed. “We haven’t seen you so long, what are you doing here?” 

“Yeah, too long!” 

“It has.” Taehyung smiled. “I actually wanted to offer this.” Taehyung then revealed the bottle of champagne from behind his back, holding it out towards them. 

The two women became elated, practically cheering as they clearly admired Taehyung more than he liked. “Oh wow! Thank you so much!” One of them thanked, receiving the bottle bashfully. 

“You’re too kind, Taehyung, did you really get this for us?” The other inquired, a bright smile on her face. 

“Actually, I didn’t.” 

Both women looked at each other confused, eyebrows furrowed. “You.. didn’t?” 

“No,” Taehyung responded with a bleak expression in near offence they’d assume that, smile wiped from his face. “You both did.”

“Wh-what?” They both questioned, incredulous. 

“I put it on your tabs, geniuses. There’s 6 more bottles, by the way.” 

Both women’s eyes went wide, immediately protesting. “T-this is the most expensive bottle of champagne here!” They looked annoyed, and Taehyung was all about it.  

“I know.” Taehyung smiled condescendingly, drawing closer to the women and dropping his tone to a scarily low, threatening octave. 

“Say anything to my wife again and I’ll make sure you pay more.” Taehyung finalized and rubbed his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he walked away, smirking. He ignored their protests as he passed by the bartender, winking for the 6 other bottles of champagne to be delivered to them. 

Taehyung then made his way to you, now in a hurry to leave this awful night behind as he gently gripped your arm, speaking into your ear to not alert anyone else at the table. “Y/N, we’re leaving.” 

Taehyung didn’t really have to wait, you responding rapidly, “Don’t have to tell me twice.” You were already rising from your seat, done with this entire Godforsaken night yourself. 

You both stepped away together, just about reaching the hall doors until Taehyung stopped you in front, holding you by your arms. “Stay here, I’ll get your coat.” 

You nodded at him and Taehyung bolted off, wanting to nab your coat as fast as possible so he could drape it around you and practically flaunt your relationship in front of everyone. He didn’t care if it was fake anymore, didn’t care for the legitimacy of his actions; he simply wanted the world to know you’re his wife, purposely wanted those two girls and everyone to see him treating you affectionately.

And he most certainly wanted to squash any of the doubt Hisung called attention to earlier that kept bugging him, entailing your marriage already seeming fake to him, and could to multiple other people.  

So he retrieved the coats and came rushing back to you, having worn his as he approached you. You almost reached out for your coat until Taehyung halted you. 

“Don’t, I’m putting it on you.” He rounded the coat around your body, helping your arms into the sleeves. He pulled it snug around you and held onto the ends where it should’ve been buttoned, taking a moment to think. 

Taehyung simply gazed at you, licking his lips contemplating what more he could do in this moment that would be convincing enough, knowing there had to be people watching you two right now. 

He realized he was staring without having said anything. “Sorry, I’m trying to think of something to do for everyone watching but I don’t know what.” Taehyung flashed to your lips and his mind explored the idea, though ultimately fought against it. 

“People are watching?” You inquired.

“Yeah,” Taehyung clutched onto your jacket, trying to think as he looked at your little bundled up self. 

“But I’m not sure what to do-” Taehyung was cut off by you suddenly grabbing his tie and crashing your lips onto his in a single second. 

Taehyung’s eyes blew out, taken by surprise until he found himself quickly melting into your kiss, hands gripping your jacket tighter. He couldn’t help himself from opening up his mouth to catch more of yours, lips sensually kissing yours in a slow, unhurried pace. 

You instantly loved the way he kissed, Taehyung somehow having taken control when you were the one who initiated everything, completely taken by his pillowy, delicate lips. 

Taehyung didn’t care if your lipstick smudged onto him or how brash the public display of affection seemed; all he cared about was the soft feeling of your lips against his own, and the sexy way you wre tugging him by his tie.

He knew it would stay on his mind for weeks. 

You were getting lost until he disconnected your mouths, only looking at each other with undecipherable feelings, shimmering eyes that had no clue what just happened. 

Taehyung smiled before sweeping up your hand in an instant, pulling you out of the hall and eventually outside to quickly sent a text to his driver, guiding you to the curb of the venue. 

He held you against him to keep you warm while walking, suddenly speaking up when something occurred to him. 

“You called me Tae, you know.” 

“What?” 

“My nickname, you called me by it earlier.” Taehyung repeated. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just heard your friends say it and it slipped out, I didn’t mean to-”

“Say it all you want.” Taehyung was grinning to himself like an idiot, thinking you weren’t looking at him but that’s exactly what you were doing, admiring the curve of his perfect cupid’s bow with hints of your lipstick smeared on him. “It’s better when you say it.” 

And now it was your turn to smile like an idiot. 

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#thebtswritersclub #bangtanhq #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #thetruthuntoldnet #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #taehyung scenario #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung arranged marriage au #kim taehyung

[nashibirne]

Intellectual Stimulation

This is a follow-up to my first Mike fic (My Best Mistake), which was a huge flop 🙈 but I hope you like the second part better...if so, please leave me a comment, reblog or like 💜 You can read this without knowing part 1 though!

Pairing: Mike x y/n

Summary: Mike wants to impress his girlfriend by being a little more sophisticated

Words: ~ 1.8 k

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, dry humping, vaginal sex, creampie, creampie eating

NO BETA! English is not my mother tongue, so expect bad grammar, wrong spelling, chaotic punctuation and clumsy language. All mistakes are mine…

Credits: I don’t own anything related to Hellraiser: Hellworld! A huge thank you to @nix-akimbo for the edit of Mike with glasses. I loved using it for the moodboard, the other pics are from pinterest. I don't know who invented Professor Cavill, but credits to you too because I briefly mention him in this story. I quote parts of "The Picture Of Dorian Gray" by Oscar Wilde.

You can find my other fics on my masterlist.

Taglist (please let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @artandotherdelights @notabronte @littlefreya @luclittlepond @eldarwen333 @meowpurrbooks @marantha @liliumdream @enchantedbytomandhenry @greensleeves888 @witcherfan @margauxmargaux07 @radaofrivia @m07belzen @a-little-counter-esperanto @starstruckkittyangel @mary-ann84 @sillyrabbit81 @emelinelovesjc @wheretheriversrunintothesea @lam0ureuxq

Off we go...

*********

Premise: Mike and his girlfriend have been together for a few months now and everything could be perfect if there wasn't that one little problem called Professor Cavill. He's y/n's lecturer in English literature and she talks about that boomer with the good looks and the tweed jackets and the dad jeans way too often. Plus Mike has seen the way the old debaucher looks at y/n when they meet him on campus. So in short, Mike is annoyed with the guy who seems to be some kind of intellectual superman, especially because he can't keep up with him. Not a bit. When he met y/n for the first time he impressed her by reciting a poem but unfortunately it is the only poem he knows. He isn't sophisticated and although y/n keeps telling him she doesn't care he feels bad and decides to do something about it.

I take a look around the room one last time and yes, everything looks perfect. It's clean and tidy, I made the beds with fresh sheets, I placed some very pretty flowers on my desk and most importantly, I bought a huge box of vintage books plus a special item at a rummage sale. The books are strategically placed in the room in little piles - beside the bed, on the shelf, on the little table beside my sofa and on the floor in the corner of the room. The special item is sitting on my nose and I really hope y/n is not going to burst laughing when she sees me.

Where is she anyway? Late of course, as usual. I take one of the books and open it to read the first pages again. I want to be prepared in the best way possible. The book is old and the cover looks strange but cool. Antiquated of course but still somehow modern with the half-rotten scull and the snobby looking guy printed in black and gold on it. Very avant-garde, Professor Dickhead would say I guess, artsy-fartsy I say.

When I hear the key in the front door I take a deep breath to calm my nerves and turn around with a big smile.

"I'm sorry, I know I'm late. I missed my bus." She returns my smile, hardly looking at me because she has problems with removing her key from the lock. "You really have to change the lock, baby. One day my key will break off."

"Sure. First thing tomorrow, sweet cheeks."

She looks at me, surprised by the enthusiasm in my voice and now, on second sight, she sees it.

"Mike! Oh my god…", she says, covering her mouth with her hands, "what the fuck? You look great!"

"You like it?" I give her a smirk and step closer to greet her with a soft kiss on her pretty lips.

"I love it! But why? I mean...you don't need glasses. I'm confused." She laughs light-heartedly and I grin. "It's just clear glass. I thought you might like me looking a little more sophisticated." I wiggle my head with a grin and she smiles, cupping my face with her hands. "I love you just the way you are, but I have to admit the glasses are damn sexy on you." She gets on her toes to kiss me and I hug her tightly.

"So what are we up to tonight? You said you have special plans for us?"

"Just take a look around, I'm sure you can figure it out." I plop down on the sofa and look at her expectantly.

"Umm...well. You tidied up your mess…"

"Yep. But there's more."

"Fresh sheets...wait...the books. You don't have so many books," she giggles before taking a closer look at one of the piles. "Out of Africa?" She raises her eyebrows and I grin.

"Some are for the heart, some are for the brain." I grab the artsy book and show it to her.

"Ooh...I adore Oscar Wilde. The Picture of Dorian Gray is my favorite!"

"I know, you mentioned it when you were talking about Professor Know-it-all's class the other day."

She rolls her eyes and it looks fucking cute. No, wait, it looks absolutely enchanting! I should adapt my vocabulary to my new look.

"Is this about Professor Cavill? Are you still jealous?"

"I'm not a bit jealous but I thought it wouldn't hurt to broaden my horizon by reading some classics and if you want to, we could read some stuff to each other and talk about it? Like our own private book club. What do you think, babe?"

"That's a great idea. Count me in." She kisses me again before cocking her head, looking at me with a smirk. "Fuck, these glasses really suit you, baby. You look so hot..."

"Please, Miss. Show me a little respect. I want to be desired for my keen intellect, not for my extraordinary good looks", I joke with an exaggerated frown.

"Idiot!" Y/n laughs out loud and nudges me playfully, "so you're all brains today, huh? Then bring it on. Read to me like one of your french girls." She plops down beside me and I snicker at her Titanic reference. I love the movie -don't you dare tell anyone-, and she hates it because she finds it boring but she still watches it with me whenever I'm in the mood for it. Okay….she usually falls asleep with her head in my lap after 15 minutes but it's the thought that counts and in return I do some cultural stuff with her, exhibitions and such. We went to a vernissage last week and to a reading in a bookstore the other day. So, you see... it's high time for some intellectual stimulation.

"Of course. Let's see what we've got here", I splay my fingers in an affected manner and grab the frame of my glasses with my thumb and middle finger to adjust them before I clear my throat and start to read, putting an extra dark timbre into my voice.

"The studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden, there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn."

I look up from the book to see that y/n obviously likes my reading voice. She seems captivated and I like the way she gazes at me so adoringly. "Go on", she says softly and I continue.

"From the corner of the divan of Persian saddle-bags on which he was lying, smoking, as was his custom, innumerable cigarettes, Lord Henry Wotton could just catch the gleam of the honey-sweet and honey-coloured blossoms of a laburnum, whose tremulous branches seemed hardly able to bear the burden of a beauty so flamelike as theirs;"

I read the first few pages and I start to like both, the book and the growing erotic tension between me and y/n. She moves closer to me with every paragraph. After I turn the pages for the first time I feel her hand on my thigh, after I do it for the second time she starts to stroke me through my jeans and I sigh before I concentrate on the poetic words again. While Lord Henry and Basil Hallward talk about bane and boon of extraordinary talent, brains and beauty, I get hard under her touch. I stop reading to kiss her but she shakes her head and nods at the book. "No. Go on, Mike. Read." Her voice is thick with desire now and it turns me on even more but I give her what she wants.

"“Harry,”said Basil Hallward, looking him straight in the face, “every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter. The sitter is merely the accident, the occasion. It is not he who is revealed by the painter; it is rather the painter who, on the coloured canvas, reveals himself."

I moan when y/n decides to straddle my lap. She hitches up her boho style maxi skirt before she sits down and all that's between my hard-on and her sweet pussy now is the delicate lace of her panties and the thick fabric of my jeans. The sexy crochet bralette top she wears is not really helpful. Just Oscar Wilde separates me from her spectacular breasts right now. I'm about to put the book aside but she stops me again. "Keep reading." She rubs herself over my boner and looks me in the eyes with a teasing smile. I think this is a promising start to whatever is going to follow and so I go on and on. She's dry humping me now with slow motions, rolling her hips, riding me with closed eyes. I moan again, I'm so turned on I can hardly speak anymore but I try my very best to keep my girl entertained.

"I turned half-way round and saw Dorian Gray for the first time. When our eyes met, I felt that I was growing pale. A curious sensation of terror came over me. I knew that I had come face to face with someone whose mere personality was so fascinating that, if I allowed it to do so, it would absorb my whole nature, my whole soul, my very art itself."

And that's it. That's the moment of escalation. We are no longer able to control ourselves and y/n takes the book from my hands and throws it away carelessly before she starts to kiss me with a passion I've never tasted on her tongue before. While we make out like love-crazed predators she opens my belt and my fly and she lifts her butt to allow me to get rid of my pants and boxers. She takes off her top and I push her panties aside, feeling how wet she already is. Wet and eager to take my cock. She sinks down onto my dick slowly and the feeling of stretching her tight pussy is as sensational as ever. I grab her ass and knead her juicy cheeks while kissing and sucking her boobs and her hard nipples. I know how much it turns her on when I bite those little rosy buds and caress her breasts, one time she even came when I took real good care of her tits while she was jerking me off.

But today she rides me and I thrust into her hot core with strong movements, rocking my pelvis rhythmically, and we kiss passionately while my hands roam all over her body. I can tell she's about to come by her breath that's going fast and by the naughty little things she whispers hoarsely into my ear. "Yes, babe...fuck me hard, fuck me rough," and "deeper, Mike, I need your dick deeper" or "I'm so close. Can you feel how close I am?" When she stops moving because she cums with a long, drawn sigh, her body trembling, her cunt clenching around my dick, I hug her tightly, pressing her down, forcing her to take even more of me and after a few fast thrusts I cum too, filling her up with my seed and I can't wait to see it drip from her pussy.

I know it sounds a bit pervy but I love to see the mess I've made and to taste our mixed juices on my tongue. She climbs down from my lap and lays down beside me with spread legs and I bend down to lick her dripping cunt clean, lapping everything up with slow, sensual licks while y/n plays with my dark curls, enjoying the sensation of my tongue between her legs.

When we are lying in my bed cuddled up at each other a few minutes later y/n kisses me tenderly. "I'll need you to read to me like this every day now." I smirk and wink at her. "With the glasses?"

"With the glasses", she giggles and her soft laughter sounds the bell for the next chapter of our intellectual stimulation.

#henry cavill #cavillry #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfiction #mike hellraiser x ofc #mike hellraiser #hellraiser: hellworld #mikey hellraiser #smut #mike hellraiser smut

[sumsebien]

how’s your heart after breaking mine?// benedict bridgerton

masterlist

summary: Benedict Bridgerton is in love with another man’s wife.

word count: 5k

warnings: nsfww, lil bit of cursing, cheating

a/n: i got really inspired listening to “mr. perfectly fine” by taylor swift so i flipped it up a bit. i also needed a little break from by design so i thought why not do something productive in the meanwhile. and here it is. took a bit of back and forth, much encouragement and proofreading from @milkbaer 😘

Benedict Bridgerton was in love with another man’s wife.

Oh god, he knew it was wrong. It was so wrong. But damn him, he couldn't help it.

Every time he closed his eyes, it is the sight of her, burned in the back of his mind. As clear as the sky on that cloudless night.

It was the night he first went to one of Sir Henry Granville’s private parties. Benedict had seen many ridiculous functions in his 27 years on this planet. Most of them balls, most of them thrown by his mother and almost all of them were black tie events.

It was a dangerous assumption to make when coming to this event in particular. Because Benedict walked through those doors fully dressed in his formal get-up of waistcoat, tailcoat, boots, and tie and he stood out like a sore thumb in a crowd of elaborate costumes, sleepwear or nothing at all.

Benedict was sure he remained perfectly still like an idiot for 10 minutes while people threw him funny looks, whispered under their breath to their friends and turned away. He was fully prepared to turn around and act as though he had got the wrong address.

But then she came along. Emerged from cigarette haze, to Benedict, she was a smoky dream. Her sultry eyes pierced through him, a delicate smile on her red lips. She said something he couldn’t quite catch and he nodded with a neutral smile - a standard answer to just about anything.

She grinned and curled her fingers around his forearm, tugging him along. As soon as she had her arms around him, the disparaging looks turned into approving nods and groups split to make way for them. Who was she? What did he agree to? Not that Benedict had any objections, of course. When a beauty catches thee by the arm, thou cometh with h’r. Or so Anthony once said.

His beauty led him up the stairs to an empty bedroom upstairs, never once looking directly at him until now when the doors were closed and they were the only ones around.

“You are a tad overdressed for this event, I believe,” she said, gesturing towards the ottoman at the foot of the bed. “Take a seat.”

“Pardon?”

She laughed, cocking her head to the side. “Whoever invited you must have forgone the dress code. Walking around like that will not get you the same respect you would in Mayfair. So, if I may?”

There was an irresistible air of confidence in her feline struts towards him that rendered him into nothing but silent submission. His heart wanted to leap out of his chest the closer and closer she got until she was right in front of him. Then? His heart stopped, her smokey floral scent putting him into cardiac arrest.

“Your first time at an actually fun party?”

He shook his head. “I’ve been to other ones,” he said. It sounded awfully like a defensive child caught in a lie. Much more than he thought it would in his head.

She raised an eyebrow, asking him to elaborate.

“Well, I once was at this party in the countryside-“ he began but very quickly, his made up tale of raucous festivities was interrupted with him completely distracted by her.

She placed her hands on the lapels of his coat and pushed it off of his shoulders. Layer after layer until he was only in his white shirt and dispensers. Then, she tugged gently at his cravat, undoing it at expert speed. “Here’s your first rule: we don’t wear ties around our necks.”

Stupidly, he let a question slip. “Then, where do you wear them?”

“Lace your fingers together,” she said and nodded approvingly once he did so. Without another word from either of them, she quickly wrapped his silk tie around his wrists, securing it with a bow. Benedict tested the knot but found that the fabric was well-fastened around his hands, restraining his movement. He opened his mouth, about to speak when she cut him off. “You were saying? About your countryside party? What did it look like?”

She grinned seeing him distracted again. So easy.

“Oh, the house had many old elms surrounding it, especially the drive. The walls were made of yellow stones stacked together,...” he continued to rattle on about Aubrey Hall, trying not to focus on the fact that his hands were bound and she was unbuttoning the third button of his flimsy shirt. At this point, he had many guesses as to what her plans were, almost none of them innocent in anyway.

But then, she stopped, leaving him flushed and confused. “It sounds awfully similar to Aubrey Hall, don’t you think, Mr. Bridgerton?” she asked, crossing her arms.

He blinked. The sly smile on her lips told him that she had known who he was this whole time. Such a minx. He smiled. “So you know who I am?”

“Having heard of is vastly different from knowing,” she replied, reaching out to flatten his collar against his chest, her fingers lingering for a moment longer on his chest before they were in his hair, messing up the combed curls into their naturally unruly state.

He ignored her comment and her touch, now just desperate to know one thing. “Aren’t you going to tell me your name?” He asked, looking up into her soulful eyes.

She removed her hands from him completely. Her scarlet lips jutted out in a pout. “Now, where’s the fun in that?”

“Will you at least untie me then?”

Her brows furrowed together, as though the suggestion had deeply offended her. “Your idea of fun is truly fascinating, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“What’s fun for you then, nameless lady?”

She smirked. “Oh, wouldn’t you want to know?”

Hell, what did he have to lose?

He kicked his legs back. “Sure, let us hear it then,” he said, leaning back against the chair, his bound hands resting behind his head in a reclining position.

He was a little too arrogant. But not for long.

She nudged his knees open and took one step closer until they brushed his groin. Lifting her dress, she placed both of her knees one by one on either sides of his thighs and plopped down in his lap in one elegant motion.

Benedict lost all of his momentary calm, his breathing growing heavier and heavier, the space in his trousers tightening up against her friction.

“Second rule: talk the talk but be willing to walk the walk.”

With that, she pushed him back against the bed, letting his head hit the mattress, his chocolate curls plopping onto the sheets. She ran a hand up his dispenser, pulling at it before letting it snap against his chest.

He didn’t flinch at the sting. Instead, he smiled, lifting up his head to look at her. “Are you having fun?”

Tough guy, huh? She thought. He would not be ready for what she had in store.

She lowered her face until they were inches apart then opened her mouth, only letting her bottom lip touch his. She knew exactly what she was doing. And she was doing it well.

Benedict had lost most if not all of his control. He hadn’t planned on acting upon desperation but he just wanted her to give in. If he tilted ever-so-slightly, he would finally feel her heavenly lips on his. A feeling that would be unmatched. But before he could do it, she tugged at the roots of his hair, angling his chin with a delicate finger before closing the gap between them with a searing kiss.

Benedict was right. He was in heaven at the warm and welcoming gates of paradise. He felt light-headed, so much so that it would not be surprising in the least if his soul left his body this very instance. She was perfect in every sense of the word, her lips, her touch, her hair falling down from its updo and tickling his neck. He could feel her grin against his lips, the apples of her cheeks popping out.

She gave his lips one last bite and then swung her legs off of his lap and stood up. Giving him everything and then taking it all away again just like that. Benedict let out a few ragged breaths and slowly began to regain parts of his vision. She was the first thing that he could clearly see. Still an absolute beauty with her red lips smudged, her hair cascading down her shoulders.

“Now, you are appropriately dressed,” she said, twisting her hair into a bun. He watched her every move, seemingly in awe of everything she did. “Look,” she pointed to the mirror in the corner of the room.

Benedict sat up and made a face once he finally caught sight of himself. Was this what you had to see? His face was blotchy with red spots from his flushed cheeks and your lipstick stain. His hair was sticking up in all sorts of direction, his shirt barely clinging onto his body.

In the meantime, she was turning to leave when he asked, almost shyly. “You’re leaving?”

“What else am I needed for, dear sir? My work here is done.”

“It is?” His lips parted, eyes frantically searching her expressions. He really couldn’t hide his feelings, probably not even if it was for his life. She couldn’t help the smile on her face. He was quite different from what she had expected the brother of Anthony Bridgerton to be. If not a Rake with a capital R then a normal, average player. But he was much too sweet though. “Here, I’ll untie you,” she offered.

He held out his hands in front of him and watched her intently like an apprentice would his master. She didn’t glance at him once, just quietly undid her knot and then slipped it off of his hands. Once the tie was off, he found himself missing the feeling actually.

“It was nice meeting you, Mr Bridgerton.”

He brushed his thumbs over his wrists where it was, where her fingers had just been. She left just like that, leaving Benedict hungry for more of whatever magic she’d just placed him under.

...

Looking back now, he probably should have chased after her, asked for her name, tugged her back into the room and finished what she had started.

But he didn’t.

Instead he went days walking around London aimlessly, his head in the clouds. Whenever he picked up his graphite, the only thing he could draw was her. Her beautiful curves, her hair, her lips, her eyes. He returned to the parties every chance he could, looking around for her. Yet, he always seemed to miss her.

He was then convinced that she had been a figment of his imagination. Something so divine couldn’t have been real. When he thought of it like that, it seemed to lessen the disappointment he felt every night when he returned to his empty bed. Life slowly went back to normal.

That was when he saw her again. At Daphne’s wedding reception.

It had been a joyous day. His sister was happily married to the love of her life and stubborn Anthony finally made up with his best friend. Everyone was in a good mood that day, sipping champagne and tasting cakes in the Bridgerton ballroom. Even Benedict. He had barely thought of her that day, having accepted that she was no more than a daydream for a couple of weeks by now.

He smiled and greeted guests who passed, even the squawking Mamas of the ton. Although after every conversation, he always felt the need to knock back a glass of wine. In the middle of doing so, he caught something in the corner of his eyes. As an instinct, he spun around and saw those sultry eyes again. The ones he never thought he would see again.

He almost spat out his drink. It was her. It was unmistakably her. She stood with a couple other ladies, wearing a proper pastel gown - a world of a difference from the red fur-trimmed robe that evening but no less enchanting.

He had never been happier to see someone. Perhaps never been happier his entire life actually. He swallowed his wine, about to rush over to her lest she disappeared again. He would not be able to afford that again.

Right at that moment, Mr. Granville decided to greet him. “Bridgerton! What a lovely party!”

“Oh, yes,” he answered, not really in the mood for small talk. He craned his neck, keeping his eyes on her the entire time. Henry picked up quickly on Benedict’s distraction, turning his head and followed his gaze.

“Ah, you haven’t met my wife. Y/N!”

Benedict expected one of the other ladies to turn around and eventually bringing along her. He would meet her eyes and see what he had been fantasizing about for days. If he was lucky perhaps he would get a moment alone with her up in his room. She would tell him her name and the next day he would appear at her doorsteps with all the bouquets in London.

What he hadn’t anticipated was for her to be the one to turn around at Henry’s call. All of Benedict’s dreams came true before they were all crushed in one moment. He had finally discovered what he had always wanted to know. Her name: Mrs. Y/N Granville.

Benedict was still partly convinced that this could have been a mistake. That this was an unfortunate misunderstanding. Maybe there had been two Y/N’s in the room and his Y/N just happened to turn around by accident. Yes, that must be it. There was no other way, no other possible explanation that could justify that night and then this. Right?

Wrong.

She excused herself and approached them with her confident and elegant strides. This time, she stopped next to Henry. Benedict’s eyes dropped to her waist where Henry had placed his hand.

“This is my wife, Mrs. Y/N Granville.”

She smiled at her husband. “Such a formal introduction, dear.” She turned to him, extending her hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bridgerton.”

He didn’t take her hand in his immediate. Instead, he simply stared, noticing something he hadn’t seen before. A shiny diamond ring. It sat on her delicate finger, laughing in his face for having ever believed that he had a chance.

“Bridgerton?” Henry asked again.

Benedict lifted his gaze. “Of course. The pleasure’s all mine,” he took her hand and brought his lips to her knuckles. “Mrs. Granville.”

Henry laughed. “She’s an excellent painter. Much better than I ever was.”

She shook her head, dipped it forward bashfully. “Oh, hush you.”

Benedict had never felt more like an intruder. Like he had been listening in on an intimate conversation. He wanted to turn around and storm off to his cottage in the woods, somehow forget all about this embarrassment. Lusting after someone’s wife and not just anyone as well. A friend who he was growing close to. But Benedict was quickly reminded by his sister’s laughter that this was her wedding day. So he swallowed his wine and put on a courteous smile. “Is that so?” Benedict asked, raising his brows.

“When she’s not being a harsh critic, of course. The two of you should have lots to talk about actually.”

“How fitting. I was just looking for some input on a new piece.”

“Well that’s just your expertise, dearest,” Henry said before gesturing to his empty glass of wine. “I shall catch up with the two of you after a refill.”

Y/N knew exactly what he was doing when he crossed his arms, turning towards her. She ignored the way the fabric on his sleeves stretched to accommodate his strong arms. Instead, she focused on her husband with the most loving grin, gave him a kiss on the cheek and a cheeky reminder: “Not too much, darling!”

Benedict felt an uncomfortable sting as he observed them. His temporary win suddenly did not matter anymore. He nodded goodbye to Henry before wordlessly exited the stuffy ballroom with her behind him. He debated whether or not to even begin his questioning. And then she asked: “Why do I have the feeling that this new piece does not exist?”

Benedict turned around to meet her gaze. She had on a cheeky smile, her hands behind her back as she scanned the halls before setting her eyes on him. It was that damn look. The one that kept appearing in his head every time he picked up his graphite. And for weeks, he’d even believed that it was too good to be true. But it was as true as it was good. Just not in the way he wanted it to be.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were married?”

The question came as an inevitability and Y/N was not surprised. In fact, she kept on smiling and gave a shrug. “You never asked.”

Benedict turned to her fully, his tall frame blocking the light peeking through the windows. He chuckled to himself. “I asked you multiple times for your name! Didn’t you think that one of those times would have been perfect to tell me you were married?” At that point, he didn’t even try to keep his voice down. Not even his mother, the Queen or Lady Whistledown, whoever she may be, or the three of them walking out at the same time could change that. “You’re married to Granville for God’s sake! My friend! And you ki-”

“Keep your voice down,” Y/N warned quietly, tearing her eyes away from his tie and the quiff of hair hanging in front of his forehead. She glanced around, making sure no one was around. And no one was. At least, not yet.

Y/N holding her hand up to shush him. In the momentary silence, she heard footsteps.

Benedict snickered. “No! I will-“

Without thinking, Y/N took one step forward, held his cheeks in both of her hands and pressed her lips to his. His lips were soft just as she had remembered. She didn’t dwell on the feeling as difficult as it was to resist. Y/N broke away, nervously glancing down both ends of the hallways. The footsteps had disappeared. The coast was clear.

He looked so perfect just like this. His curls swept onto one side. She thought he’d make a perfect muse that night sprawled out on the ottoman with his hands bound. The portrait would be a very different one now.

She lowered her gaze and was accidentally confronted with his chest. She felt a blush creep onto her cheeks thinking about ripping his shirt open. So she looked up again. His eyes were intensely blue in this light. She noticed her hands still holding his cheeks, her body so close to his. Whatever she wanted to say was gone, dead.

“Benedict-“ she let both of her hands fall.

Before they could though, he quickly caught them in his. His thumbs pressed against her palms, he pinned them up in midair. “Say that again. Say my name again.”

Her gaze was leveled with his lips. Plump, soft, kissable. It was a dangerous game. But it was one that she had started and she was not a quitter.

“Benedict.”

He closed the gap between them, not letting go of her hands as he backed her up against the door to Anthony’s study. She was sweeter than he remembered, much better than those mediocre sensations that his mind could conjure up in the night.

Melting into her kiss, his hand blindly felt around for the handle and twisted it. The both of them stumbled into the room, his hands secured around her waist.

In moments, she was against the wall again, trapped in his hold. His fingers gripped onto her waist for life as his lips pressed against the skin of her neck. He let slip a quiet moan as her skin fell between his teeth. Buried in the crook of his neck was her face, her teeth guarding any pleasured sounds from escaping.

"Benedict,” she whispered, barely inhaling.

"Louder," he said against the skin that was beginning to form mauve blue patches, hands running up her frame, tantalizingly slow. He didn't need to ask that, his hands alone already successfully commanded such.

Her legs buckled up. The heel of her shoes hiked up against the wall, allowing space for him to move closer.

On cue, Benedict pressed himself dangerously closer, his hands working its way downwards now. She didn’t have enough patience in order to wait, fiddling with his belt, trying to get rid of them. To which earned her a smirk from him. She didn’t care if it went against whatever his way was supposed to be. All that she desired at this point was some form of finality.

He tutted, removing his lips and his hands. “We are doing this on my terms."

In a blink, he slid a finger between her folds without much warning, a gasp immediately left her lips and her hands stopped their fumbling, to his wish.

She let out a soft moan, tilting her head back to hit the wall. Her voice echoed off in space followed by a louder gasp as another digit found its way in her. Both of them caused her toes to curl and her grip to tighten on his shoulders. The reaction was enough, he had deemed, pulling his fingers back with a smirk painted on his lips.

She felt empty, watery eyes blinking in confusion as darkness swallowed her vision. He pressed his lips to hers, wolfing down her whimpers as he dropped his drawers. Tapping both of her thighs with his fingertips, he managed to keep the pace going even after she obeyed and wrapped both legs around his waist. She had her arms around his neck, her neck bent to not break the kiss.

There was no winning in this game. It doesn’t mean that either was willing to lose.

Even after they were frantically panting, Benedict’s head on her shoulders, Y/N’s skirt hitched up to her waist, neither of them was ready to give in before the other. But that wouldn’t last too long. Benedict’s slow and sinful strokes became shorter and harsher. Y/N’s hushed moans grew louder and quicker.

Eventually, they ended up on the floor, resting against each other’s shoulders. After a pause, Benedict said her name, somewhere between his heavy breaths. She didn’t reply right away, knowing what was coming. Instead, she slowly untangled his hands from her waist, holding onto his fingers.

“Don’t avoid the question, Y/N.”

She sighed. “Yes, I am married to Henry. Yes, he knows what happened and he is fine with that.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you stay married to someone if you’re just going to cheat on them?”

She dropped his hands, standing up. It was the farthest that she wished to discuss with an outsider about her marriage. “It is a safe bet,” she said, shoving her hands up to redo her hair swiftly, no longer wishing to be part of this conversation.

Benedict sensed her discomfort. But he pressed on anyways, dancing dangerously close to the flames. “But you don’t love him, do you?”

She threw her hands into the air, letting them smack loudly against her skirt. “As far as my marriage is concerned, that’s all you need to know.”

Benedict rose, letting out a bitter laugh and stood next to the doorway, sticking his hand out to block her exit. “So nothing changes?”

She shook her head. He bore into her eyes until she did the same. He shouldn’t have insisted on that. For some reasons, he thought that staring could make her stay. That was a mistake on his part. “Nothing changes. Now will you let me go?”

“You are the cruelest woman I’ve ever met, you know that?”

“I know.”

Benedict could only watch her slip through his fingers again. His beauty was not his and had never once been his. He would be a fool to believe otherwise.

…

Benedict never wanted to see her again. Ever. It seemed that every time she entered his life, she just brought more misery. He avoided Henry’s party invitations, stopped showing up at public events with half-assed excuses ranging from feigned sickness to non-existent painting lessons. His mother begrudgingly agreed to let him be most of the time, Anthony and Colin should suffice for the time being now that Daphne was married.

But not this time.

Somehow, Colin found himself smack dab in the middle of a scandal with an engagement to a pregnant lady, a Miss Marina Thompson. While Benedict never doubted his brother’s honor for a second, Lady Whistledown’s loyal followers (which was short for the entire ton) were not nearly as trusting.

His family was worried sick to try and undo as much of the damage as they could. Anthony and mother had been circling the study and drawing room respectively for days, Daphne and Simon came back from their honeymoon just to do the same. Only the younger kids were blissfully unaware. Being the second oldest, Benedict had to do his part as well. If not pacing around then at least attending the Queen’s garden luncheon with his family.

He didn’t object to the idea, knowing how much his showing up meant to his mother but he was very cautious about who would be there. To the point where he was a tad too paranoid.

“Benedict!”

His mother’s discreet half whisper, half yell yanks him back to reality.

“Yes?” He frantically turned to his mother. She had a hand on her hip, one eyebrow raised as she looked him up and down. He looked around, looking around for Colin lest his brother jumped off a bridge. But Colin was still there, still smiling with Gregory and Hyacinth. He looked back at his mother.

She narrowed her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head, hiding his face by twisting away from his mother’s watchful eyes.

“Mhmm. Nothing...Is that all your mother deserves to know?”

“You know that’s not what I-”

“You need some air, dearest,” she said, her hand on his shoulder. “That’s all I am saying.”

Benedict shook his head, a “no” on the tip of his tongue. He did not need some air. He needed to get out of here as soon as he could.

“Bridgerton!” Oh no.

In the opposite direction, an enthusiastic Sir Granville was heading towards them. Quick! Benedict cleared his throat. “Yes! Good idea, mother! Perhaps I shall!”

He could not face Sir Granville and his questions. Nor the knowledge that he knew what Benedict had done with her. He could barely face himself.

So he swiftly weaved his way past the crowds, finding sanctuary in an empty part of the Queen’s gardens, closed off to the public. No one should find him here. There was comfort in that particular thought. He did not have to face anyone or anything. Perhaps that was why Colin adored travelling so much. It’d certainly be much easier to avoid people he knew. Her.

He sat down on the cool stone bench and sighed into his hands. He could almost hear her calling him. Her damningly sweet voice disarming him. The call-“Benedict”- echoed in his mind. Goosebumps chased up his limbs. He shuddered at the memory of her fingers setting his skin alight as they danced their way up his chest. And then her lips on his neck, her hair tickling the side of his face. Her against the door. Her on top of him.

“Benedict.”

His eyes snapped open. Illusions of her faded. He ran his hands down his face with a sigh. He really needed to stop doing this. These ridiculously vivid hallucinations were really getting in the way of him living his life.

“Benedict.”

Did he just hear that right?

That did not sound like it was from his imagination.

Benedict removed his hands from his face and looked up. She stood there in the middle of the walkway, her pastel green dress blending in perfectly with the scenery, as if she could be one of the beautiful statues itself.

But he was not interested in further heartache. So he rose to his feet, about to walk away.

“Benedict. I want to talk to you.”

“I do not wish to hear it.”

“I know.”

He did not want to give her a reaction, knowing how much she would love to see him all riled up. But those two words drove him up the wall. They did the last time and they certainly did this time. Against his better judgements, Benedict snapped. “How’s your heart?” he asked, raising one arrogant eyebrow.

She blinked, unsure of what to say, unsure of what he meant.

“How’s your heart after breaking mine?” He snickered, stuffing one hand in his pocket, the other gesturing towards her. “You know I bet you’re fine. I bet you’re perfectly fine. This,” he gestured between them, “never meant anything to you. I don’t mean anything to you.”

“That’s-“

“Not true? Ha! Are you going to kiss me and then leave again?”

“I am leaving, Benedict,” she said quietly. “I won’t be here this time tomorrow so you don’t have to worry anymore.”

Benedict felt bad for the words that had just left his mouth. Almost immediately. Yes he never wanted to see or speak to her again but he never thought that would be the case. It was one of those nightmares that one had but never thought would come true until it did.

“Fine,” he shrugged, pretending not to care.

Y/N stared on, her gaze low. She had been selfish, a little too cruel. But she never thought he hated her. The whole time, she had been prepared to tell Henry to go on to Paris with Lord Wetherby while she stayed behind in London. It could always look like he went missing. She had been ready for all the consequences, the investigations. For Benedict, she would have done it. In that moment, if Benedict told her to stay, she would have.

But he never did.

taglist: @awesomebooklover17 @oopsiedoopsie23 @milkbaer @vampirestookmydoubts @5hundreddaysofsummer @km-98 @mikeys-thighs @lunas1x1 @albeeox @darkestbeforethedawn16 @defffcc @sarcasm-n-insomnia @urie-bowie-mercury @babydidoy @cvpidsletters @mmmh-i-cant-help-myself @fanaticalfantasist @xoxomandoo @littlered00 @heartofrosecoloredglasses @truly-insatiable @thingfromlove @tearsrichochets @littlelindy

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#benedict bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagines #benedict bridgerton imagine

[the-eldritch-it-gay]

gooooood did not realize the DID tiktok mess was bigger than it seems. honestly kinda hate that though, as a system. i've had a lot of friends who i Thought at one point were good to me find out i have DID and then treat me like i was psycho & 100% their intel is based on stuff they find on the internet, like they think it's true and i ... would kill for that reason <3 i hate it so much. sorry, i'm just rambling, but genuinely i want to know your opinion on this kind of stuff bc--doesn't it freak you out too???

Yeah I feel you 100%. (sorry if this is a lil disorganized it's been a switchy kinda day, Stone & Void have been out most of the time and we're pretty blurry rn).

TikTok really is a hell hole when it comes to DID, because while we've met some great systems we've befriended, it's also just full of rampant ableism and misinformation. Every so often some account gets called out for faking having DID, and all that does though is invite singlets to make fun of DID and be ableist or serve as fuel for the people who believe DID isn't real or w/e. People (singlets) with no degrees or experience will come out with information like "Actually, the term system is made up and no professional uses or knows about that its some fake term made up by internet trolls" (wrong). "Alters can't communicate with each other and if someone says they can that means they're faking" (also wrong). "Systems can only have x amount of alters" (wrong). "Alters can't be fictional characters or animals" (wrong). "Only white people have DID" (wrong). And people will just take those statements as gospel and then go on and echo that information to other people.

So much stuff on the internet and in the media about DID is just awful shit that just is wrong. And so like you said, there's lots of time where I just mention DID or dissociative disorders and suddenly everyone's vibe changes. A little bit ago we were talking to a cousin at some family gathering, and our cousin has lots of mental issues too and you know has dealt with psych wards and medication and shit and we were just vibing comparing experiences with things and then like. I offhandedly mentioned dissociation and the vibe immediately shifted from something casual to smth where she was Concerned and Gentle and treating me like I was a child or completely psycho. Her reaction was like if we casually said like "yeah and I love thinking about murdering people violently and I might murder someone later 🥰"

it just sucks yknow? like, not just how people think that someone having DID means they're some crazy psycho violent murderer or smth, but like also that ppl are out there constantly like, spreading misinformation and using DID as a stand in for "crazy person". like hell like the name of the disorder changed from MPD to DID in like the mid 90s or smth but ppl still 100% call it MPD. people just refuse to learn and like just regurgitating harmful misinformation that just hurts systems, and half the time if you try to point out how harmful it is ppl just dont care bcuz yknow they write off folks with DID as just dehumanized psychos who dont deserve respect.

honestly sometimes we wish ppl went back to not knowing anything about DID, cuz like that'd b way better than people only knowing about it via completely wrong and ableist social media. id rather like, it b that if i say i have DID ppl dont know what that means, rather than them suddenly think im violent or psycho or incapable of judgement yk?

#Eldritch IT Speaks #Eldritch IT Answers #blurry.txt #the primordial system

[crybabyddl]

I WOULD VERY MUCH LIKE TO REITERATE SOMETHING

Yes, let’s circle back to the beautiful performance of Edge of Great. More specifically the BODY LANGUAGE, particularly Julie and Luke’s, which I will be analyzing with gifs.

Exhibit A

Jealous Luke looks over at Julie and Reggie vibing

Julie is aware that she’s avoiding Luke, which she is doing so bc she realized her feelings for him thanks to Flynn earlier in the episode.

Since Julie has put the task of ignoring Luke upon herself even though she has no obligation to, she ends up failing her own mission. She sees Luke’s reaction to the lack of her attention.

She literally FREEZES. She’s emotionally worried to confront what she’s feeling and it’s beginning to manifest physically.

Exhibit B

It gets better y’all. After Luke finally has even a crumb of Julie’s attention, he beckons her over with his signature head tilt. This is important bc he did this with his longtime bandmate during the soundcheck of what would’ve been their biggest performance. If he feels comfortable enough using that body language with a girl he’s only known for, what, a week and a half(?) then you know this puppy boy’s got it BAD.

Julie is well aware that Luke is getting jealous. But in classic Julie fashion, she will try to tune it out instead of addressing it. Our wicked beauty doesn’t like confrontation and would rather just deny and avoid than potentially make things awkward, especially when she knows Luke would ask her about it at a later time.

The look on Julie’s face. Her eyes widen and the classic tight-lipped awkward smile is present. She’s literally saying “ok enough of that let’s get back to work doo doo doo” with her face. The way her body SWINGS back into performance mode as she faces the audience again. It may have been a split second, but when you’re deliberately trying to avoid looking into the dreamy (dead) eyes of someone you shouldn’t be crushing on, any amount of time feels too long. Plus, she knows Flynn is watching and doesn’t want her to lecture her (but she does anyway bc Flynn is observant and knows her bestie too well to let any action slip past her).

Exhibit C

Keep in mind; NONE OF THE GUYS KNOW WHY JULIE IS AVOIDING LUKE. Flynn, Alex, and Reggie have noticed the Juke chemistry, but it’s still too soon for them to get past the “we like each other but we’re too clueless to notice that we reciprocate” phase, so even though their respective besties know, they are still denying. Besides, Reg, Alex, and Flynn know better than to keep pestering if they want to keep their kneecaps. In reality they’re both smart enough to tell by this point, but for the sake of the plot and to make everything more adorably frustrating, Flynn has the collective brain cell under lock and key, leaving Juke to be like *dog tilting its head and making that “a-roo?” noise*

Anyway, Reggie notices Luke being snubbed after realizing that his extra dose of Julie time was slightly out of the ordinary. Luke is clearly concerned (look at his eyebrows and how his eyes travel from Reggie, to Julie, then to the audience to trying and get his mind off it and bring his focus back to the main goal; the performance.) If he can’t have the moment of connection with Julie that he so desperately craves, he’s gonna fill that void as best he can by connecting with the audience. >:’)

But Reggie’s trying to help Luke brush it off by conveying his reaction as ‘look at julie coming into her own! i told you she was a star! and you thought you were the lead singer? think again buddy this girl’s got you beat!’

But since Reggie isnt a master at hiding his feelings yet, especially around Luke, —who was able to get under his skin earlier (“girls, am i right?”)—Luke was easily able to see through that and interpreted what Reggie was saying as “look at julie go, she all in the zone. you’re literally making heart eyes at her get a grip you’re slacking lmao” (hence luke’s right eyebrow quirking at reggie like ‘dude seriously gimme a break u know i need attention like tinkerbell’) even though Reggie’s true message was a bit less harsh and more lovingly teasing, but it’s Luke, he sees things through his eyes and at his intensity, regardless of who it’s coming from. (This is one of the reasons why Luke comes off as selfish at times.)

Exhibit D

Poor Lukey boi can’t seem to catch a break today! Not only does Julie ignore him, then has a cute lil (platonic but it’s luke so it still makes him jealous >:P) moment, but now she has the AUDACITY to interact with Alex? The guy who was out learning Ghost 101 with this Willie guy instead of rehearsing with the band? What gives?! What’s he got that your moody ghost bf doesn’t? >:’(

He literally just watches, and even glances back in a way that, to me, screams ‘did i see that right? did i just see what i just saw with my own dreamy (but dead) eyes? say sike rn.’ \_(*_*)_/

Meanwhile, Alex pays no mind. I like to think that Alex is fully aware that Luke is an angry boy rn, but has learned to ignore it, especially this bc literally NOTHING happened. Either that or Alex has no clue and just truly thinks nothing of it and is having too much fun to think about Luke’s moody and childish behavior. Either way, Alex is just straight chilling and we love to see it *^_^*

Notice how Reggie is right there vibing with Julie and Alex. Luke feels a bit betrayed like ‘not you too! i know you were the first to turn on me but i figured since you’re such a golden retriever you’d be loyal and come back to my side!😠🥲’

Also; Luke approaches the rest of the group, wanting to be included in at least SOME of the vibing, but when Julie starts dancing and smiling with her buddy Alex, he backs up like

“you know what? nope. nevermind. not doin’ it.”

and the group’s like “i mean hey it’s your loss, but luke we want you to-”

“no, bc you chose to piss me off right in front of my face so no luke time for any of you! no cuddles, no hugs, no nothing! you made your bed, now lie in it and perish.”

Exhibit E & F: This is where it gets a bit interesting and theorized hehe...

Now we all know that this moment is just fucking ICONIC

WEOWH NEOW NEOW!!! WEOW NEHR NEHR NER-NER-NER NEHR NEHR NEOWHR!!! (wer nehr-nehr-ner-ner-nehr-nehr!!) WUEHNER-NEUHNER-NEHR-NEEOW-NEOWH! DLOOLOODDUH-DOODLAH-HOOBLUEH-NEOWHR-NEUEHR-NEEEEEEUOWRH!!!!

But hear me out– HEAR ME OUT!

What if... now don’t shoot the messenger who just so happens to also be the theorist... but what if...

WHAT IF!!! Luke didn’t!! plan this?!!!

Listen i know you’re probably thinking:

“Well uh Nicole, isn’t that kinda the whole point? It literally wasn’t planned until Charlie realized Madi was gonna be standing on the piano so he suggested the idea for the guitar solo to Kenny.”

And you’re right! But here’s the kicker:

What if Luke THE CHARACTER, just decided to do this as an “Alright that’s it! You wanna be like that? Well what if I just hit you with my super awesome radical totally cool wowza guitar skills & make a moment between us? Huh? What do you think about that? Hmm? HMMM???!!!”

He licks his lips & that to me read** like he was nervous (**read rhyming with bed just to clarify) so that means it could’ve been a spontaneous, spur-of-the-moment thing.

In the second gif, you can see that Julie’s head is tilted, as if she’s a bit confused, but she’s also delightfully surprised.

Julie is quick to smile and scrunch her nose at Luke, something she does often. It tells Luke his impulsive action garnered a positive response from his favorite girl. Julie also starts to shake her head, but doesn’t go through the motion in full, which means she’s still a bit nervous to let her guard down. This is probably because she doesn’t know what he’s thinking or what he will do next. The lopsided smile mixed with the suave, gliding steps towards her probably brought her back to her daydream lol.

Luke’s happy bc Julie’s no longer ignoring him. He smiles like a GOOBER bc this chump is simping HARD for our Julie. So cute! :’)

Exhibit G

And hear me when I offer this:

What if Luke poofed the guys out???

I know, I know. It’s a bold claim to make. But the boys are special, considering they are a threat to Caleb (3 gay-variant himbos vs. a gay magician that could’ve been on broadway but decided to make some sort of deal with a devil so he just entertains capitalists who most likely sold their souls to get into the hgc which i will probably elaborate on in a future theory so dont do that bc im gonna lmao idc we all have big brains) So it’s not too crazy to think that they could share some ghost powers.

We know Caleb transported the guys during You Got Nothing to Lose. And the guys have left a place at the exact same time on more than one occasion.

And you may be thinking “well what if the guys poofed out to give juke a moment alone together?” And to that I say...

Look at Reggie. He isn’t looking back at Alex like “dude let’s give them some space.”

The timing of him turning around, at least to me, makes me think Reggie was surprised by Luke approaching the piano. (But also he lowkey was waiting for Luke to prove him wrong by doing something to get Julie’s attention so Reggie isn’t mad. Neither is Alex but he doesn’t like being told how or WHEN to ghost) Luke doesn’t even give his bandmates a warning eyebrow quirk, a hand signal, nothing. Reggie turns to Alex like ‘dude what is he DOING?’ And before he can even really convey that, they go *POOF*

This man had a plan and he was gonna do it, so he did. Whether it’s the power of love, they stopped performing, or Reggie and Alex actually poofed out, the odds worked in Luke’s favor so he and Julie could have a super special moment, a moment special enough to make an actual living person (Nick) wonder if a “hologram” has a better chance at connecting with Julie than he does.

Again, regardless of who made them poof or how they poofed, they mf poofed so Luke’s a happy hamster. (Idk it just sounded fitting instead of happy camper lol wait what if someone had 3 pet hamsters and named them alex reggie and luke🥺 someone buy some hamsters and let me be their godmother or their aunt and i’ll love them from afar.) Anyway, Luke’s thriving, flourishing, his crops are going to grow in time for the harvest.

You can see Julie lean back as she turns to see Luke. It’s... almost as if... She. Wasn’t. Expecting. Him. To. Be. There..??

Honey badger Luke bc he DGAF <|:) Bitch, it’s Luke mf Patterson and he’s gonna,, GET! IN! YOUR! FAAAACE!!!

You CANNOT tell me he’s not doing the absolute MOST to try and seduce Miss Juliana Mariposa Rose Molina.

Yes I’m making a headcanon that Julie has TWO middle names and that one of them is the spanish word for butterfly and that the other is her mother’s name. Also yes, I believe (i believe that we’re just one dream away from who we’re– oh, that’s not what we’re doing? okay, sorry!) that Juliana is Julie’s full name.

In this house we love and respect Juliana Mariposa (Dahlia)** Rose Molina

**I’m just putting Dahlia there for fun bc I can. :) Whether I’d consider it a possible middle name of hers depends. Anyway I just thought it was a cute thing to add bc it goes along with the other middle names I gave her *^_^* Also, I feel like I made a post giving a bunch of the characters middle names lemme see if I can find it later)

Ok i’m done this took me basically all day from like 10am until 4:08. I obviously took breaks in between, but not long ones...😶

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie molina #madison reyes #luke patterson #charlie gillespie #alex mercer #owen joyner #reggie peters #jeremy shada #jatp theory #jatp headcanons #carrie wilson #savannah lee may #jatp flynn #jadah marie #sacha carlson #edge of great #nick danforth evans #music #jatp netflix #jatp cast #jatp hc #juke #crybabyddl has a theory #i spent way too long on this #crybabyddl

[lilxberry]

The Guilt Of A Lover - Natasha Romanoff

Synopsis;

You tend to be quite off-put by other women when you’re with the love of your life, even feeling guilty when there truly is no need to for you to feel so. Natasha herself tells you as such.

Warnings: Lil’ bit of language. Jealous Natasha. Oblivious and paranoid reader. Pretty much it tbh.

Words: 2,072

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

_______________

You sat there, admiring your red headed girlfriend as she took down yet another agent in training. You were always in awe of how he body moved when she was up against an opponent. Plus, you had a great view of her ass right now so were as happy as can be during your break from training. 

Natasha looked at you and sent a cheeky, subtle wink towards you. You grinned at her like a fool. She was in every way the perfect woman for you. She’s the woman 

Just as you stood up and took a final gulp of water from your bottle, ending your break, one of the trainees, a young blonde girl, steeping in front of you, blocking your path.

“Hey, I was wondering if you could train with me and help me out with my stance.” Josie-Jessie-Jade, you hadn’t really cared to remember her name, asked as she played with a strand of her hair, twirling it around her slender, manicured finger. A tell-tale sign of flirting which you hadn’t noticed.

But Natasha did.

The girl had been flirting with you non-stop during the training sessions you helped lead. She had always found an issue which you just so happened to be the only one who could fix it. ‘Not like there’s any other superiors she could ask.’ Natasha thought bitterly as she watched on from the corner of her eye.

“Uh-sure. Why don’t you get into position and I’ll see what needs you’re doing wrong.” You instructed the young girl who giggled as she turned to get back on to the matt.

Once there, she plants her feet atop the cool surface, raising her arms out in front of her and bending her knees ever so slightly, sticking her ass further out than nessicary. 

You sighed heavily through your nose as you witness her positioning. ‘How did this girl even get as far as she has with S.H.I.E.L.D..’ You leisurely walked towards her, noting what she should do to make improvements.

“For starters, your knees are bent too much, that can throw you off balance.” You tap her knees until you’re satisfied with the amount they’re straightened. You proceeded to move her feet so they face a more efficient direction. Lastly, you moved to behind her, ready to correct her flimsy, half-arsed positioning of her arms.

“Your arms should be more bent. Bring your elbows towards your body, this will help you protect yourself.” You gripped her elbows with a gentle but firm grip, pulling them back inwards towards her torso. 

As your arms reach around each side of her, she pushes herself back into you, her back being forced to come into contact with your chest. “Like this?” She feigns innocence as she asks in a sickly-sweet voice, puffing her chest out, making them fall into your line of sight. 

You clear your throat and quickly detach yourself from her, making sure you advert your gaze from her eyes as she turns around. “Yeah, just like that. Keep practicing.” With that, you walk out of the training room hastily, leaving Josie-Jess-Jade confused and frustrated.

Natasha notices your quick departure and frowns, concerned about the one she loves. 

She turns her gaze towards the younger girl, a burning anger in her eyes as she stares for a moment. Natasha swore she would find out what was wrong later. 

Oh boy, she sure did. 

_______________

Natasha had yet to see you all day after training had concluded. She could tell something had upset you and had a possible reason as to why you were so quick to exit the room.

Ever since you two had started dating, you had always been mindful and concerned of your girlfriend, putting her before yourself. She knew that you hated the idea of hurting her or betraying her and whenever you thought you had, you would be over cumbered with guilt and then profusely apologize after some time to scold and punish yourself with horrid thoughts.

For as long as Natasha had known you, you had never betrayed her once. The multiple occasions you’ve said you had done so was purely an overreaction on your part. 

--- flashback ---

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to look at her. You know I’d never look at anyone else in the way I look at you. I’m so, so sorry. Please forgive me.” You spoke as you buried your face into the crook of her neck, holding her tightly, afraid that if you loosened your vice like grip around her waist for a millisecond, she’d leave in an instant. You’re breathing was erratic, clearly panicking about whether she’ll leave you ‘cause of your ‘slip up’.

“Y/N, seriously, you’ve done nothing wrong.” Natasha soothed into your ear, stroking your hair gently. “Just because you happened to look up from your phone the same time as that girl bent down, it doesn’t mean you messed up. It’s not like you were actively looking at her tits baby.” She cooed, trying to add humour into the situation but you clearly felt just as guilty as you did before.

“Babe, the fact that you looked away instantly just shows you not only have respect for me and our relationship, but to other women as well is one of the reasons I love you but please stop feeling guilty for something that’s not worth it.” Natasha continued.

You planted a small kiss upon Natasha’s shoulder before fully raising your head to look down at your girlfriend. “I love you.” You spoke quietly, afraid what would happen if your voice raised even a decibel higher.

Natasha looked into your eyes, still seeing the guilt you hold behind them and sighed. “I love you too, Y/N. Now, how about we finally head down to the living room for movie night?” She smiled as a small smile had broken on to your face also.

“Sure.” You grabbed her hand, interlocking your fingers with her before leaving your shared bedroom and heading to the elevator, ready to wrap your arms around your girlfriend on the couch whilst you and the rest of the Avengers watch Short Circuit.

--- end of flashback ---

Natasha has always loved your honestly and dislike towards disloyalty within relationships but sometimes, she felt as though you sometimes overreacted when someone flirts with you. 

She hates how you beat yourself up when you feel guilty about something you couldn’t have done anything about in a situation you were thrown into unwillingly.

As she walked along the hallways of the compound, she noted Steve, Bucky, Sam and Clint further up in the direction she was headed towards talking. Once Natasha got closer to the quartet of men, she asked of your whereabouts. 

“Last I heard, she was down in the lab, sitting quietly with Bruce and Tony.” Clint had answered his friend. The other three men nodded in agreement.

Natasha smiled in thanks before making her way towards the main lab that usually occupies Tony, Bruce and yourself.

finally reaching the lab, she was about to open the door when she heard the voices of the three of you talking clearly.

“I still feel bad, man. Whether something was on accident or not shouldn’t be an excuse for that.” You said in a solemn, guilt-ridden tone. “What makes you think she’ll say yes to marrying me if I’m constantly looking at other people!”

Natasha’s breath hitches at the mention of marriage. You wanted to marry her. A huge grin made its way on to her face, cheeks nearly splitting at how far her lips had upturned. The rest of your conversation was all but muted to her as she thought of being your wife.

Before the three could continue with their conversation, Natasha had opened the door and alerted you and the science bros of her entrance. She smiled widely towards you whilst you looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an on-coming truck. She paced quickly towards you then surged forward to connect her lips to yours.

Your eyes had widen in shock before quickly closing as you melted into the kiss, responding to the affection with just as much emotion. You held on to her hips with a feather-like touch, as if afraid she’ll break whilst her arms snake their way around your neck, pulling you deeper into her kiss. 

Before either of your lungs could collapse in on their selves from lack of oxygen, you broke apart. She grinned up at you as you looked down at her with a dazed expression embedded into your features. You hadn’t even noticed the pair of scientists leave their lab to give you two some much needed alone time.

“So, you wanna marry me, huh?” Natasha whispered in a playful tone. The blissful and content expression was quickly wiped off of your face as she said that and was quickly replaced with a deep red blush and a look of embarrassment at the fact that you had been caught red handed.

“I-uh-I,yeah, I uh-I’ve been meaning to ask you for a month now but I guessed it was never the right time.” You chuckled and smiled sheepishly down at your girlfriend.

“Or is it because whenever you plan to ask, you “mess up” and have to apologize.” Natasha had added air quotes around mess up as she truly believed that you have never done so once. Obviously, you’d beg to differ.

You looked down guiltily, scared to look the red head in the eye. “I’m sorry. I know I messed up again. She asked for my help and then I just kinda saw them. I’m so sorry. I get if you want to bre-”

You were cut off by Natasha gently pressing her soft lips to yours, them moulding together perfectly. She pulled away just as quickly as she had initiated the kiss and leaned her forehead on yours. “Ask me.” She whispers, eyes searching your own for something neither of you knew truly what for.

“What?”

“Ask me. That is, if you still wan to marry me.”

Realisation quickly crossed your features. It was almost comical how your eyes had widened and your mouth drop open into an ‘O’ as you frantically search your pockets for the velvety box.

Soon enough, you found the cuboid container and grasped it into your hand as you retracted it from your pocket in a tight grip. You dropped down on to one knee and cleared your throat at least 20 times before you attempted to speak. 

“Natasha,” The clearing of your throat had apparently not mattered as your voice had still broken into a higher pitch when you spoke her name. Quickly clearing your throat of the dry lump, you attempted your proposal once again. “Natasha, will you marry me? I did have a whole speech about two papers long but I forgot it, sorry.” Your sheepish smile barely concealed your nervousness as you waited for an answer.

“Yes, Y/N, yes I will marry you.” Natasha spoke as she nodded vigorously. You were stunned for a moment before speedily recomposing yourself and pulled the ring from the box to place upon your now fiancé’s finger. 

After you slipped the simple yet elegantly beautiful ring upon her slender, pale finger, she tugged you up with a huge burst of strength before once again plummeting her lips on to yours, kissing you feverishly, conveying both of your love for each other.

The kiss was soon broke and both your eyes had opened to reveal each others beaming smiles towards their loved one. “I think we should tell the others.” Natasha suggested.

“We already know. congratulations. Now, don’t fuck in my lab.” Tony spoke, soon followed by a scalding from Bruce and congratulations from the rest of the Avengers.

“Maybe we should do Banner and Stark a favour and keep their lab sanitary.” You chucked as you spoke. “There are a million places more comfortable that a lab for those kind of activities.”

“Well then, lead the way.” Natasha spoke with a hint of playfulness.

You smirked and grabbed the back of her thighs, signifying her to jump, which she did so gracefully, wrapping her legs around your torso and your hands move to hold her up by her ass. “Yes ma’am.”

And with that, you left with your fiancé to consummate your engagement with the love of your life, leaving behind the guilt of a non-existent issue.

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Yo I am in love with every female marvel character I swear

My first Natasha fic which I really enjoyed writing

I hope you enjoy

And as always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x #natasha romanoff x reader #x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #jealous #jealousy #fluff #marvel #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fandom #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu fic #tony stark #bruce banner #steve rogers #clint barton #bucky barnes #sam wilson #the avengers #black widow #black widow x reader #x reader

[softyoongiionly]

BlackHeart Bakery

Who says Halloween can’t be romantic?

Pairing: Emo! Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Genre: fluff

A/N: HI OMG IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE. I love you, I hope you like it. I’m sorry it isn’t longer but, I still can’t wait for you to read it.

-you never imagined that the quirky lil bakery down the street from your university would change your life  

-But it did

-“Omg shut up, you’re so dumb.”

-“Rawr xD”

-“Did you just say rawr xD out loud??? That totally defeats the purpose of its existence...”

-“Don’t cite the deep magic to me witch, I was there when it was written.”

-“And now you’re quoting the chronicles of narnia- alright just go back to sleep you big dummy...”

-“Mmm but you married a big dummy so what does that say about you”

-“Jungkook don't spoil it oh my god!”

-“Like they don’t know what’s coming already- spoiler alert losers! I get the girl.”

-“I hate you...”

-“Mm yeah- I love it when you talk dirty to me baby. The last time you said that- we ended up fuc-“

-“Ok! That’s enough! Our story begins...”

-Jungkook’s bakery was quite famous around your city

-If people didn’t come for the gaudy Halloween decorations  

-They came for the music  

-Exclusively pop punk, if you’re wondering

-It was like 2009 everyday  

-Which was comforting, considering the world has gotten a little

-Tricky

-Since then

-But anyways

-If they didn’t come for the music or the decorations

-They came for the AMAZING espresso  

-And the spooky themed treats

-But if you’re being honest

-You think the main thing that keeps them coming back

-Is Jungkook  

-If his sweeping black hair didn’t get you

-Or the adorable cheeky twinkle in his eyes

-It was the tattoos and the piercings  

-He looked like he walked right off of a black veil brides music video set  

-He was hot

-This was obvious

-But he didn’t seem to think so

-You had come to the conclusion that he was oblivious  

-he shoved his feet into his big black doc martens every morning  

-Slipped on his beaded bracelets and studded chokers

-Pulled his fall out boy t-shirt over his

-Massive

-Tattooed

-Biceps

-And just thought hm

-I’m pretty average I guess (lol)

-That’s a direct quote from him btw

-Men truly are hopeless

-Jungkook opened the bakery two years ago

-He had mentioned to you that he had saved up money from his 3 part time jobs to put a down payment on the building  

-Which was wedged between a sex shop

-And a thrift store

-And honestly his bakery

-Blackheart Bakery, if you’re being specific  

-Fits right in

-Jungkook refuses to hire new staff

-“They won’t do it right.” He whined to you one day

-“One time I tried to hire this guy and he put the sugared googly eyes on the cookie skeletons ALL WRONG”

-“How do you put googly eyes on wrong?” You had giggled

-“you just do- i- See? This is exactly why I can’t hire anyone...”

-You had started chewing on the end of your pencil in the midst of your laughter

-It was an unconscious habit

-And it makes Jungkook shift uncomfortably, his hands moving off of the top of your table

-“Don’t do that...” he had muttered, smirking to himself as he walked back behind the counter  

-he did that a lot

-He’d mutter something  

-Mildly flirtatious under his breath and then  

-Just walk away

-It was quite confusing

-But honestly you had a feeling he was just a filrty person  

-You certainly weren’t the only girl he smirked at

-Not that you pay attention

-Ok  

-Maybe you do  

-Kinda  

-Pay attention  

-but it’s not your fault!!!!  

-You just  

-Can’t help but feel a little jealous

-You kiiiiiinda have a little thing for him

-Ok

-Maybe it’s a big thing  

-Maybe it’s a massive

-Gigantic

-Towering  

-Crush  

-But look at him!!!

-You simply couldn’t be blamed

-It was his fault  

-Yep

-That’s what you’re going with

-It was Jungkook

-And his tight t shirts

-His ripped jeans

-His dangly earrings

-His tattoos

-His big

-Stupid boots

-Ugh ok

-Focus  

-You have work to do

-The whole reason you began coming to Jungkook's cafe was so you -could find a consistent place to study for your exams

-You were in school to become a teacher :)  

-And teachers have to study very very hard  

-Educating the youth is no easy feat  

-Jungkook had asked what you were studying during the first week you arrived at his spooky house of baked goods

-“Oh I’m an education major”

-“Ahh so you’re getting an education about...education.” He concludes

-“I love it.”

-“So meta.”

-“Are they educating you on the disparities between impoverished children and wealthier children?”

-His wide eyes were brimming with genuine curiosity  

-You kind of got a kick out of how candid he was about such heavy conversation topics

-“Not as much as they should be but, I’m actually writing a paper on a similar topic right now...”

-This caused a brilliant grin to come over his face

-It was almost blinding really

-And it made your heartbeat all wonky  

-“Of course you are. You look smart like that...”

-He had backed away from your table then, seemingly satisfied

-Had you passed the vibe check?

-“I’ll leave you to your paper.” He nodded to your laptop but as he walked away, he pivoted back towards you on and the heel of his combat boot, “welcome to Blackheart Bakery by the way, let me know if I can get you anything.”

-Another brilliant smile is sent your way  

-“Thank you.” You had smiled back, sending a tiny wave his way

-Which in turn, made HIS heartbeat all wonky  

-You’re cute

-Like really cute

-And despite how often it may seem like his eyes are elsewhere

-They are ALWAYS on you

-Every chance he gets he is glancing your way

-Smirking to himself at how endearing you are

-Brow furrowed

-Lips pouted in concentration  

-Completely oblivious to his gaze

-He has to remind himself to look away  

-He doesn’t want to be a creep

-“Creepy men deserved to get kicked in the teeth...”

-He’s said this to you before when another patron had made you uncomfortable

-Jungkook kicked him out immediately  

-“If you don’t leave, I’ll have no choice but to kick you in the teeth. One, because I can’t compromise my personal philosophy and two because you’re making my favorite customer uncomfortable.”

-Oh look there goes your heartbeat again

-WONKY

-The guy leaves in an angry rush, flipping Jungkook off in the process

-Saying something about leaving a bad Yelp review  

-He doesn’t care tho

-He definitely doesn’t want to be a creep

-You’re just so  

-Pretty

-Ugh

-He rolls his eyes at himself behind the espresso bar

-The latte in front of him neglected  

-In need of a bit of foam

-“Focus Jeon, she’s just a chick...”

No wait

-“She’s just a woman. A woman who I respect, like I respect all women...”

-He’s been watching a lot of feminist theory on YouTube

-He likes staying educated  

-And also fuck the patriarchy

-The man waiting for his drink has arched a brow at this point, wondering if his barista has lost his mind

-“Uhhh medium...” he checks the cup for his awful hand writing, “ghostly toasted marshmallow latte!”

-“Thanks.” The guy mutters, throwing a judging look Jungkook's way  

-He gives him a lazy salute as the guy struts away with a briefcase in tow

-“Thaaanks.” Jungkook mocks him, his face scrunching up in annoyance  

-Stupid man

-With his stupid briefcase  

-As Jungkook is pulling out a batch of cream cheese frosting stuffed pumpkin muffins  

-Or as Jungkook calls them

-PUNK-in Muffins

-Movement at the counter catches his eye

-is that

-”oh shit...” He grunts, hastily wiping his hands on his apron and rushing over to the counter

-normally he would meander

-stroll

-or even slump to greet any new guests at this hour

-and by this hour

-he means 45 minutes before closing

-Jungkook’s bakery is open til midnight on weeknights

-9pm on Sundays

-and 3am on Saturdays (for the culture of course, gotta keep it spooky)

-tonight happens to be a Friday night and the person awaiting his assistance is

-you

-”You’re still here?” He gawks, the black polish on his nails glimmering as he punches in a few keys on the register

-You offer him a tired and slightly amused smile, “No. Y/N died around 4:30, you’re speaking to her ghost. Please leave your message after the tone.”

-Jungkook cracks a smile, his palms resting on flat on the counter, “Do ghosts check their voicemails?”

-“Oh of course not but, I will be checking yours because you have access to caffeine.”

-Jungkook laughs

-no...he giggles  

-and it’s fucking cute

-but you digress

-“I feel like I should cut you off...this is your 4th latte; I’m pretty sure you’re 80% caffeine at this point...”

-“Noooo, don’t do that.” You whine slumping against the counter, “I just need to finish this one page...”

-He quirks a brow as he scribbles something on your cup, unimpressed with your statement, “You said that three hours ago. I’ll make you another one but I’m not putting an extra shot in.”

-Your face turns up in protest but he click his tongue against his teeth , shaking a manicured finger at you

-“Ah ah- nope. I don’t want to hear it. You either take that or I’m making you a hot chocolate and shutting the buildings power off.”

-With a dramatic sigh, you concede

-“Ugh fine. Here-” You go to hand him your debit card but he shakes his head

-“Put that away.”

-You want to protest but given the fact that he’s made the rules thus far during this interaction, you doubt you’d be able to stop him.

-A smile appears on your face then, appreciative of his generosity

-“Thank you.”

-He merely grins, waving you off before rolling up the sleeves of his black Blink 182 shirt

-as soon as his tattoos are out

-all the moisture leaves your mouth

-you try your hardest not to stare at him

-expertly, he eases the espresso shots into the milk, tongue poking between his lips in concentration

-and you

-being sleep-deprived

-and a little loopy

-decide to  

-flirt????????

-if you could even call it that

-which you could but you shouldn’t

-“For the record, when I finally dig my way out of this of mountain of death I’m stuck in, I will definitely take you up on that hot chocolate...”

-Jungkook’s brow quirks at the tone of your voice, his hands suddenly itching with nerves

-was that

-was that flirty?

-should he flirt back?

-“My hot chocolate is legendary. You won’t be disappointed.” His lips display a small grin as he places the lid atop your finished latte, “Also mountain of death is a great name and I WILL be stealing it.”

-You giggle

-again

-“and I WILL be suing you for copyright.”

-He laughs now, wiping up the bit of milk he spilled

-the sinewy muscles in his forearm tensing and untensing

“Good luck getting me to show up to court.”

-and that’s kinda how it was between you and Jungkook

-for like six months

-it was a little bit flirty but never anything to push either over you over the edge.

-and speaking of being on edge

-recently, you had gone from vacationing in your timeshare on the edge

-to signing a 35 year mortgage contract  

-4 bedrooms

-2.5 bathrooms

-of pure

-unrelenting

-stress

-you could feel it in the middle of your back

-shoving itself up between your shoulder blades

-your body seemed to ache with it

-the worst part being

-it was Halloween

-You should be out with your friends, having fun

-wearing itchy costumes and drinking sugary drinks

-but instead, your headed towards the bakery to work

-Jungkook was behind the counter, smiling happily at a family dressed like the cast of scooby doo

-from what you could see he was wearing a skeleton onesie

-his jet black hair tousled perfectly above his head

-he looked adorable

-(and hot)

-He notices you instantly, his face turning up in surprise

-you offer up a small wave and head over to your table

-you know he’s going to say something about you being there but

-you don’t really have much of a choice

-this work has to be done

-it takes him a second to spot you but when he does

-he seems to perk up

-his smile brightening as he looks back towards his customer

-as you’re setting everything up, you feel a presence (not the spooky kind) at the end of your table

-it’s Jungkook and he has your regular order in one hand, along with something wrapped in skeleton-patterned parchment paper

-“I know, I know.” You acknowledge before he’s even able to chide you for being here

-He smirks “What are you doing studying on the holiest day of the year??”

-You giggle

-“The holiest day of the year huh?”

-“Of course. Halloween is the one night a year that the homies can dress like total -sluts and no one can say anything about it.”

-This makes you giggle again

-“And you went with slutty skeleton huh? I love it- it’s like as naked as you can possibly get.”

-He chuckles, gesturing to his costume

-His floppy black hair getting in his face

-“Damn right baby.”

-The way he grins tells you the pet name is a joke

-But the deepening of his voice gets to you anyway

-“Thank you for this. I promise I’ll get out of your hair early tonight.”

-“The only thing I’m worried about getting out of my hair is this white spray paint. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

-He’s put a streak of white spray paint in his raven locks

-Why? You’re not certain

-Does it look good on him, like everything else does?

-Absolutely

-Its been a few hours since your night of studying began

-Jungkook’s dropped off two free lattes since you’ve arrived  

-As well as a slice of his ‘I write cinnamon not tragedies’ bread

-Which was equally hilarious and delicious

-You caught him glancing over at your table a few times but you didn’t think anything of it

-He’s probably just checking to make sure that no one needs your table

-His bakery is packed most nights but Halloween is a special night at Blackheart Bakery

-He has a trick or treat counter set up with free (homemade) candy

-A photo op complete with a fake haunted house backdrop

-A Halloween playlist

-And a bunch of discounts on his signature lattes and food

-you watch him amongst the chaos

-He is completely unfazed

-He seems elated at the amount of customers he has

-he grins and laughs at something a man dressed like Thor says at his counter

-he seems entirely in his element

-you realize that the denial tactics you’ve been trying out haven’t been working

-because this floppy haired, tattooed, slutty skeleton/baker kind of has a hold on your heart

-you’ve been friends for a long time now

-he always makes sure you’re taken care of

-he always asks if you’re ok

-he always gives you this little grin

-it feels like a secret sometimes

-but maybe it’s been his way of letting you know where he stands

-he’s been bringing you lattes and pastries for months now

-he never charges you full-price

-he always reminds you not to work too hard

-he

-fuck

-he likes you doesn’t he?

-you look back over at the counter to see him bending over and handing a skeleton cookie to a little girl dressed like Captain Marvel

-he laughs at something she says

-his eyes focused entirely on her and whatever she seems to be proclaiming to him  

-your heart goes wonky again

-alright

-enough is enough

-you’re doing this  

-Jungkook’s done so much of the work thus far

-it’s time for you to seal the deal

-and if he rejects you, well…

-you can just crawl into a hole and never come out again

-easy peasy

-You can feel his eyes on you as you get up to take your place in line

-luckily there isn’t anyone else behind you

-rejection with an audience would certainly be worse

-Jungkook has his witty comment ready for you as you approach the register

-“I know for a fact you haven’t finished your third latte and I’m not making you another one until-“

-“I’m not here for another latte.” You laugh, trying to ignore the thrashing of your heartbeat

-“No? Well, are you finally going to try my Welcome to the Blackened Chicken Parade Burger then? I’ve been asking you for like three weeks…”

-god he’s fucking cute

-“I’m here to ask you out.”

-Jungkook swears he feels his heart stop

-“You’re here to…”

-He repeats the first part of your response as his he didn’t hear you

-his black fingernails anxiously tapping against the countertop

-“I’m here to ask you out- on a date.”

-Jungkooks face seems to go through various stages of confusion before a shy smirk presents itself on his pretty mouth

-“Me? You’re asking me-“ He places a hand on his chest, “-out on a date?”

-“Yes!” You laugh, slapping the counter a bit too hard, your nerves getting the best of you, “Are you down?”

-He shakes his head but his answer contradicts his movements

-“So down, beyond down. There is no one on Earth who is more DOWN than I am. Yes. My answer is yes. 50000% yes.”

-you can’t help the smile on your lips

-“great. So are you free next Friday then?”

-He grins with his teeth this time, nodding emphatically  

-“Consider the shop closed.”

-and so it was

-you returned to your table moments later  

-feeling on top of the world

-you did it

-you asked Jungkook out

-and he said yes

-and now you

-NOW YOU HAVE A DATE WITH JUNGKOOK

-LOOK AT YOU GO

-TAKING CHARGE

-you try your best to engage with your studies but with Jungkook on your mind

-its really hard

-roughly two hours later, things at the bakery have finally started to slow down

-“Hey uh- Y/N?”

-Jungkook's voice that pulls you out of your studying trance

-he’s standing at the entrance of his back room, waving you over with his hand

-and who are you to deny him?

-you make your way over there, annoyed at the instant increase in your heartrate

-he stands awkwardly to the side and gestures to the boxes on the metal rack

-“I just remembered that I’ve never given you a tour of the place. I give all my regulars a tour of the stockroom and my office and uh-”

-he cuts himself off and clumsily cups your cheek

-he pulls you into a kiss

-a really good kiss

-his lips are so warm

-he smells like cinnamon

-you could literally die happy

-The ridiculous nature of his first attempt to kiss you, makes you giggle into his mouth

-you feel him smile, his hands smushing your cheeks together as he pulls away

-“Ok I lied. There is no tour. I’ve just been watching you focus on your computer for the last two hours and you’re just really fucking cute and-”

-this time, it’s you who cuts him off

-“You better give me an actual tour next time. How else am I going to steal your secret recipes?”

-he scoffs in mock offense

-“Ah ha! So that’s the only reason you asked me out huh? Should I be calling you Plankton instead of Y/N? Ew no wait- that would make me Mr. Krabs and he’s a dirty capitalist...”

-You laugh, “Oooh good point. Guess you’ll just have to be Karen, my computer wife.”

-This makes him laugh now and the sound warms your soul

-“I could live with that- I like your last name better anyways.”

-with another kiss, your adventure with the emo baker of your dreams begins

-It may have been Halloween but it sure felt like Christmas to you

#headcanonween #jungkook #Jungkook fluff #Jungkook bts #bts jungkook #Jungkook 2020 #emo! jungkook #boyfriend! jungkook #Jungkook fics #Jungkook fic recs #jungkook cute #Jungkook hot #tattoos jungkook #Jungkook tattoos #fluff #bts #bts fluff #bts fics #bts fanfic #bts fic recs

[kj-1130]

Feelings Suck

Uswnt x reader

⚠️T/W: implication to emotional/verbal abuse? Bullying, lil bit of self-harm maybe? lemme know if it’s something else.⚠️

Main Masterlist

Your first call up to the national team came when you were 16. This had been your dream since you first started watching and playing soccer. Being able to train with such inspirational and empowering women was amazing.

When you arrived, you were kind of shy at first. You honestly didn’t expect to be called up again, so you figured there was no point in trying to get to know everyone and develop relationships.

Much to your surprise, you had been asked to attend another camp. Then, you started to get to know the ladies more and you learned that they were amazing people.

The women were so understanding and just nice in general. If only the media and your classmates had been the same.

Before you had been called up, you weren’t very popular at school. Many didn’t notice you were there; you were essentially invisible to everyone even some teachers. But after you made your debut, things started to change.

You had never yearned for popularity, but hoped it was the good kind if it ever did come to you. But when it came to you, it came fast, hard, and unexpected yet not the way you hoped.

People started pointing out flaws; saying you weren’t good enough to be playing with such great athletes or that you didn’t look like other soccer players.

Not only that, but the media had ripping your ass as well. Almost every time you looked, your social media was full of your mistakes. From compilations of your greatest fails to commentators.

The supposed fans of the Uswnt, were absolutely ruthless to you. Always saying that you didn’t deserve your spot and anybody was easily ten times better than you.

You had your teammates and surely they’d understand what you were going through. The thought of asking for help had crossed your mind multiple times; when you saw Christen just watching television the first time you were roomed together. Or when you and Tobin had spent the day together going to get lunch. There were plenty of times you could’ve reached out, but the constant overthinking and weight you had on your shoulders told you otherwise.

You tried not to let it get to you, but when you hear something so much you start to believe it. If being on the national team gave you this much baggage, you’d rather be invisible like before.

You always thought that you’d burden people with your problems. Everybody has issues of their own that some didn’t know about, but they carried on. That’s what you thought. If people can get through their issues then so can you.

Day by day, the team noticed that your behavior had changed. You didn’t talk as much and you weren’t as chipper as usual.

You didn’t do your daily morning yoga with Christen often opting to do some light training instead. You no longer went skateboarding with Ash and Tobin, but spent your time in your hotel room looking at stats or ways to improve your play. It didn’t matter to you how much time it took.

You just wanted someone to recognize that you’re something; that’s what you always longed for. Each time someone said something about your horrible play, your parents were only being proved right. They always told you that you’d never get anywhere with the sport; that there were athletes much better than you. But you always pushed past that, desperate to show them that you could and would make it. Yet now, it just seems like they were just telling the truth.

You had gotten off the phone with your parents not long ago. Both of them screamed at you for a good thirty minutes, complaining that you had wasted their money on soccer. Complaining that you had no right to be such a bad player when they gave you everything you needed. Of course you felt guilty; they manipulated you to think it’s your fault.

So here you were once again, sitting at the hotel’s desk trying to get it together. You had training in an hour so you had to suck it up.

Before you could start getting ready, Alex, your roommate, came in with Kelley, Allie, Christen, and Tobin.

You quickly wiped away your tears and hoped you didn’t look like you were about to breakdown. Thankfully, luck was on your side today.

Alex came over and sat on her bed along with Kelley and Allie, “Hey kiddo, we’re just gonna hang out for a bit til training. What were you up to?”

You hadn’t really been doing anything since the phone call so you just came up with a lie, “Nothing much. Just on my phone.”

The women had started engaging in conversation, so you decided to just get ready.

Grabbing your clothes, you went to take a shower. Once you stepped inside, you tried avoiding the mirror all together, but it was so hard. It was right there; right in front of you. It was impossible for you to ignore.

When you turned and got a glimpse of yourself, all you heard were your classmates. ‘You’re too big to be a soccer player.’ ‘You’re never gonna make it big.’ ‘You’re worthless, whatever you do is for nothing.’

You blocked out their voices, but soon came your parents’. ‘You’re wasting our money.’ ‘You’re not good enough’ ‘We should’ve given you away when we had the chance.’

Those had been things you’d heard before; the last one always hitting you the hardest. Maybe they were right. Maybe you were just a nobody with no guaranteed future with this sport. Maybe you should just quit it all...

Christen had gone quiet after you made it into the bathroom. She noticed some of your odd behavior especially quick since she didn’t have her yoga buddy anymore.

The others kept talking but the more the forward thinks about it, your mood has surely been dampening. You hadn’t spoken to her about anything, but she hoped that you did feel comfortable to speak to her when you were having problems.

Christen speaks up as she no longer can keep this to herself, “Has anybody else noticed (Y/n)’s been acting weird lately?”

The other athletes in the room contemplate for a second before nodding their heads, already trying to figure out what was wrong.

Kelley had been scrolling through social media at the time and happened to come across some comments, “Uh, guys? I think I have an idea of what’s going on.”

Everyone in the room immediately snapped their heads over to the defender and crowded around her. Allie was the first to see and started reading one, “‘(Y/n) (L/n) honestly needs to be removed from the team. Literally anyone would be a better choice, like come on.’ That has over one hundred likes. There’s no way she hasn’t seen any of these.”

The women all shared sad looks. Christen was about to say something but you opened the door, having finished getting ready.

Everyone scrambled back to their respectful spots and you raised an eyebrow at their frantic behavior.

Shaking your head, you decide to go down to the lobby to be alone and hopefully clear your head.

Before you could even make it to the door, someone had called you, “Hey (y/n)?”

You sighed before answering, “Yes, Alex?”

“Where you going?”

You just wanted to go somewhere without being questioned for once. You understood that you were the youngest, but the level of overprotectiveness these women have is off the charts.

“No, I’m not leaving the hotel. Yes, I have my phone. Yes, I have my key card. I’m just going to the lobby to chill for a bit before practice.”

You had been through the exact same interrogation almost every time you wanted to leave your hotel room.

Luckily, before Alex could grill you any further, Christen stepped in, “It’s fine (y/n), just go ahead.”

You muttered a small bye and walked out the door. When you were halfway down the hall and heard the door close, you let one of your tears fall.

-

When it was time for practice, you had just been off your game. You were missing shots you normally wouldn’t, your tackles were messy, and everything was just an overall mess right now. And everyone else could tell.

Every word read or that was spoken to you were just in your brain, making themselves at home. They were right there, always reminding you what a failure you are and that you’ll always be one. They were there letting you know that your parents were right all along. They were there making themselves known in any way possible.

You were so close to breaking down at this point. Vlatko took you off the field and told you to get yourself together. You honestly didn’t know if you could anymore.

You were so close to breaking and didn’t know if anyone could pick up the leftover pieces.

Sitting down on the sidelines, you immediately put your knees to your chest and tucking your head in between them. You tried to calm down, but it was so hard. Your senses were dialed to 11 and everything was too much. You decided to get up and go to your bag where you kept your phones along with your earbuds.

You quickly scrambled to get them on; anything to block out the chaos of your brain was good at the moment. All unaware of the worried eyes on you.

In that moment, the team had decided to get to the bottom of this and help you.

-

You shouldn’t have expected to be able to hide this forever. You shouldn’t have expected to be able to use homework as an excuse to not hang out forever.

When there was a mandatory team bonding called in your and Alex’s room, you knew something was about to happen. Whether that something was about to benefit you was the question.

When you got to the hotel, you expected that you’d be able to shower then relax a bit and prepare yourself for the inevitable conversation you were about to have with all 20+ women on the team.

So when you did step out of the restroom, you absolutely did not expect over 40 eyes already on you.

“Nope.”

“Ah, ah, ah, no,” Ali said while walking over to you, dragging you with her to her spot and pulling you onto her lap. Your eyes widened slightly and you immediately moved yourself to the spot next to her.

Everyone was thinking similar things. You usually loved your cuddles and they’d always make you feel better if you were stressed because of school or anything else.

“So,” Ash said, “you wanna tell us what’s been going on?”

You simply looked down at your fidgeting hands and shrugged your shoulders. “What’s there to tell?”

Ali shrugs her shoulders as well, “Oh I don’t know. Maybe how you were off your game today.”

When have I ever been on my game?

“Or how you’ve been distancing yourself from everyone.”

I don’t deserve to be here anyway.

“Or—“

“Okay, okay. I don’t know what you want me to say,” you muttered.

You were panicking. This is overwhelming you and you didn’t really want to have much human interaction after training.

“Look, you don’t have to go into detail,” Tobin said. She was always chill and her demeanor relaxed you a bit. “You can just give us a gist and let us help you. Please, (y/n). We care about you and your behavior shows something is wrong. Let us help.”

And there was the guilt trip.

Tobin’s words started to make you tear up.

After much hesitation you decide to say something (more like mumbled).

“They say things.”

Ali takes your face in her hands and lifts it up, forcing your bloodshot eyes to make contact with hers.

“Can you speak up sweetie?”

“They say things,” you spoke with a tremble in your voice.

“Who says things?”

“Everybody. They all do.”

Every woman in the room shares glances. They knew you were still going to school when you didn’t have camp so hate could be extended there too.

Christen decides to contribute to the conversation, “You know what anyone says isn’t true, right?”

You shrugged again.

“(Y/n),” Kelley spoke sternly.

“What?” You finally snapped. Every word after this just spilled out of you like a dam.

“I’ve been hearing it for the past 17 years, do you not expect me to believe it! I see it everyday, there's no hiding it.”

There it was. You snapped. Everything was coming out. Your body shook from sobs and Ali quickly pulled you closer into her embrace.

There was no dry eye. No one knew of your home situation and now the cat’s out of the bag.

“(Y/n),” you were pulling your hair; the pain always grounded you.

“(Y/n)!”

“What?!”

Ali grabbed your wrist and gently yanked them from your head.

“You’re having a panic attack. Breathe.”

You were shaking your head, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

It took at least 10 minutes to calm down. The team gave you a few more minutes to regroup.

When you became more aware of your surroundings, you realized how much your head was hurting.

While you were hiding in Ali’s shoulder, everyone asked questions.

“What do you mean 17 years, (y/n)?” Casey asked.

“My parents. They say stuff too. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s just go to sleep, alright?” Ali always knew how to calm you down.

You nodded and hummed into her neck and fell asleep soon after.

From then on, the team was going to protect you. How? They didn’t know at the moment, but they were absolutely determined.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #woso imagines #Uswnt imagine #ali krieger #ashlyn harris #alex morgan #tobin heath #christen press #casey short #allie long #kelley ohara #rose lavelle #emily sonnett #tierna davidson #mal pugh #alyssa naeher #megan rapinoe #abby dahlkemper #x reader #crystal dunn #becky sauerbrunn #lindsey horan #uswnt players #uswnt

[aomineavenue]

Homesick (Miya Atsumu x f!Reader) | 007. realizations

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Updates: irregular.

Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.

Warnings: Language, etc. (Will be mentioned once posted because I don’t want spoilers huehue)

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.

Status: ongoing. | series masterlist

↩ dinner disaster | realization | chapter seven bonus  ↪

mia’s note(s): 

another easter egg found here! can you find it? 

i’m so excited because we’re almost done. remember how i said it’s 12 chapters? well, i’ve shortened it ok lmao dont be mad but homesick is almost over hehe 

i would just like to personally thank @newfriendjen​ and @hqstuffsforme​ bcoz they literally give me the motivation I need to continue writing lmao

The model scrunches her features up in annoyance, puffing her cheeks as if she were a child being deprived of sweets. She flickers her attention over to you, her jaw clenching at the mere fact a woman was seated next to him. “Excuse me.” 

You arch an eyebrow, noticing her glowering towards your direction. “Me?” 

“Yes, you.” she answers, her eyes betraying the smile she had on, “I believe you’re in my seat.” 

The past few weeks had been exhausting for him, and it wasn’t because of their intense training for upcoming games. His exhaustion’s source was mainly from the most recent important events, it took a toll on him emotionally. While this may be true, he understands there wasn’t anyone to blame but himself. The anger still existed somewhere in his mind, displeasing him whenever his thoughts reminded him of the chances he had lost to take care of his kids at a much younger age, but he had tried his best to subdue those particular emotions ever since that night. Chaotic as it was, it took him a step closer towards the realization of what he really needed to do. All he needed now was a little shove.

“‘Tsumtsum!” he hears her screech, the muscles around his shoulders grow tense. The irony of it all, just as they were discussing that horrendous memory of the Christmas Party just last December that he had tried his best to eradicate from his brain due to his own embarrassment, he couldn’t believe the model in question had instantaneously emerged out of thin air. What was she doing all the way here in Kanagawa? It was as if he had no escape from her suffocating clutches. A quick glance towards his brother and he recognizes the criticizing features sewn on his twin’s features and all he could do was share a silent communication, pleading for his aid. 

Out of all the times this woman could appear, she appears at the very moment where he was sort of, trying, to redeem himself. Silently, he prays as she snakes her arms around his neck, that you, settled next to him, wouldn’t conclude anything from it, but who was he kidding? The position itself was sufficient evidence for you to come up with the conclusion he’s dreading. He can sense everyone’s eyes on him, the irritation they were radiating for such disruption. As she releases another infuriating squeal, this time an inch away from his ear, he pries her hands away from his neck and wraps his fingers around her wrist to pull her to the side. 

Her lower lip juts out to a pout as she stands by the table, ignoring the dirty look he was directing her way. “What’s wrong ‘Tsumtsum? Did you not like my surprise?” 

“Surprise?” he disputes, his brows furrowed in confusion as he releases his grip from her wrist, displeasure evident in his tone as he spoke. “Don’t tell me you were stalking me, Yumi.”  

She folds her arms across her chest and lets out a scoff of disbelief escape her lips, “You make it sound as if I’m not your girlfriend or something!” 

“Well, you aren’t.” he argues, a sigh of frustration escaping his lips, “We’ve talked about this. We’re not together and how did you know I was going to be here anyway?” 

“That’s some serious stalking there, Yumi-san.” Hinata quips from his seat innocently, the other individuals around the table attempt their best to contain their sniggering at the sight of the model going red in the face from both anger and embarrassment. 

She releases a grunt from her lips, sending a glare towards Hinata’s direction before turning her attention back at him, flashing him an innocent smile. “I don’t care what you say, we’re dating. You can’t just drop me like that. What we have is something special, you love me right? You never really said it before, but I know you’re just being shy, ‘Tsumtsum, it’s o—” 

“Please,” He interjects, “Drop it. We’ve discussed this already, Yumi.” 

The model scrunches her features up in annoyance, puffing her cheeks as if she were a child being deprived of sweets. She flickers her attention over to you, her jaw clenching at the mere fact a woman was seated next to him. “Excuse me.” 

You arch an eyebrow, noticing her glowering towards your direction. “Me?” 

“Yes, you.” she answers, her angry eyes betraying the smile she had on, “I believe you’re in my seat.” 

“Yumi!” Atsumu hisses, pushing himself to stand from his seat. “Stop this, right now. We’re trying to have a quiet dinner.” 

Clearing your throat, you avoid the model’s glare as you stand yourself, “I think I’m full, and I’d like to return to the hospital. She can have my seat.” 

“Wait, what?” Reiji chokes, sharing a panic glance over to his current partner in crime across from him. “But we haven’t even gotten to the main course,” 

Yumi squeezes her way towards your seat after pulling you away from where you stood with abrupt force, a happy squeal leaving her lips as she occupies the seat you sat on seconds ago, she turns to look up at you, a smug smile evident in her features, “Safe travels.” 

“Enjoy the rest of your night, everyone.” you bid, bowing your head slightly before your feet take off towards the exit of the restaurant. 

“Good riddance, if you ask me.” Yumi scoffs with a wave of her hand to capture everyone’s attention. She claps her hands together excitedly as she looks up at Atsumu, “I missed you so much, ‘Tsumtsum! You never bring me to dinners with your friends, this is so exciting for our relation—” 

As Reiji was practically seething from the side like a predator ready to pounce an attack towards its enemy for disrespecting his best friend like that, and from the sudden thought of regret entering his mind of how he shouldn’t have trusted Atsumu for not doing anything. However, such thoughts were crushed almost instantly at the sight of the furious glare Atsumu was sending over to the model that was seated uninvitedly on your seat. 

The sight of a furious Atsumu was enough to send a chill through her spine, as she was about to try to soothe the volleyball player by reaching out for him, he slaps her hands away which causes her to whimper, jutting her lower lip out to pout. “What did I do?” 

“Are you serious, Yumi?” he snaps, nails burying into his palms to restrain his growing irritation, “I can’t believe you would do that.” 

“Why does it matter?” she whines, trying to reach out for him once again, only to fail as he steps back further, “Are you serious right now? Who was that bitch anyway?” 

Reiji interrupts, his voice full of venom from behind the model, “I’d watch your tongue if I were you.” 

“Whatever,” she stutters, attempting to look unfazed by the singer’s words by rolling her eyes but her quivering posture radiated otherwise, “She shouldn’t matter, ‘Tsumtsum, let’s just continue dinner.” 

“What are you? A child?” Osamu intrudes, not able to hold back his tongue any longer from this model’s personality, “Stop calling my brother such a horrendous nickname like a squealing pig.” 

An offended gasp escaped her lips, glowering towards Osamu, “He likes it when I call him that, so sucks to be you! And I’m not a child, I’m a fully grown woman.” 

“Could have fooled me,” Asuma mutters underneath his breath. 

Yumi lets out a grunt. “Tell them, baby. You like it when I call you—Where are you going?” 

He doesn’t spare her a glance, weaving his way through the restaurant to run after you, “I hate that nickname.” 

Before Yumi could stand up and follow after him, her path was blocked by the other individuals around the table who had stood up the second they realized Atsumu’s plan of action. “What are you doing? Let me through! You’re all going to regret this!” 

Yumi’s screech was the last thing Atsumu heard as he steps out of the restaurant, a part of him feeling bad for his friends being left to deal with Yumi’s ridiculous antics and well, for the other people in the restaurant that might have had their ears traumatized. He never really understood what he saw in her in the first place, it was Yumi who had approached him in the beginning anyway. He should have listened to Osamu instead. 

He looks around frantically, wanting to be able to catch up to you. He needed to talk to you, to apologize for Yumi’s behavior. He was just hoping that, somehow, he still had a chance to fix things with you. Hopefully, Yumi’s appearance hadn’t ruined those chances. 

He catches a glimpse of your retreating figure walking towards the nearest bus station and he feels his heart soar, you haven't gone too far yet. He doesn’t waste any more time than he already has, sprinting towards your direction, calling out your name.

At the sound of his voice, your name rolling off of his tongue in desperation, you turn your head to look back with confusion. He reaches you almost instantly after you pivot your body to face his direction. Despite looking flustered as he catches his breath, he takes your breath away. 

“Oh, sorry.” a feminine voice interrupts his train of thought through memory lane, causing him to turn around, startled, “I didn’t realize someone was already occupying the balcony.” 

He lets out an awkward laugh, shaking his head, “No, it’s okay. It’s not like I’d stop you, I don’t own the space or anything.” 

“So you don’t mind if I share your space? The party inside is kind of suffocating.” she lets out a sigh, avoiding his gaze sheepishly. 

“I don’t mind at all,” he nods, tearing his gaze away from her as she steps out onto the balcony. He returns his gaze over to the buildings of Shinjuku, the different bright hues from various buildings painting the night sky.

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

He hums softly, lifting the cold bottle of Sapporo up to his lips to take a quick sip. He lets out a sigh, “Just some stuff, it’s nothing really.” He turns to look over at her when she steps towards the edge of the balcony near him, “Wait, aren’t you Tobio-kun’s sister? The sports journalist?” 

She lets out a laugh with a nod of her head, “Yeah, I’m glad I’ve made a name for myself then for some of the players here to recognize me. Though, I don’t think I appreciate being known as Tobio’s sister, not that I’m not proud of my brother or anything.”

“Ah, sorry. I didn’t mean to.” he states sheepishly.

She shakes her head, offering him a small smile. “It’s okay, no worries. You realize the party is inside, don’t you? I think I heard Bokuto-san looking for you or something.” 

“I suppose I’m not really in the mood right now,” he mutters underneath his breath, looking back up ahead. “Not really in the right mind space. I don’t really know why I’m telling you this, you’re a journalist.” 

She pouts, “I’m not as bad as those gossiping sharks. I prefer to actually produce worthy news. Speaking of news, you’ve been everywhere lately. I suppose it’s hard for you. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if that happens.” 

“I don’t mind it,” he admits, his forehead creasing.

“Pardon?” 

He lets out another sigh, shifting his position so his back is leaning against the railing of the balcony, “I don’t mind it. I just wish she was left out of things. She doesn’t deserve such slander.” 

“I suppose the woman associated in the news with you actually means something to you then,” she muses, “I always thought that model Yumi was irritating. I’m sure her fame will fly out the window sooner or later.” 

He lets out a scoff of irritation, taking another swig of the beer in his hand, “Don’t even remind me of her.” 

“She’s not really well liked either,” the journalist beside him snickers, “Don’t worry about it too much, you’ll grow wrinkles. Say, Miya-san, do you love her?” 

He’s startled by the direct question, if it were not for his tight grip around the beer bottle, it would have slipped from his fingers and came crashing to the floor. No one, not even his brother, had asked him such a question. He never really thought about it, but ever since that night, you were all he could think about. “It’s complicated.” 

“A lot of things are complicated.” she starts, tilting her head back up to look at the dark sky from the penthouse balcony, “There will always be complications, you know. But, do you know what’s the bright side of it?” 

He turns his head to look over at her in curiosity, “What?” 

She lets out a heavy sigh, a sad smile forming on her lips. “For each complicated situation we are in, the only person who can deal with such complications, is ourselves. Everything is in our hands. The only question you should be asking yourself is, what is the outcome you wish to have? Then from there, I’m sure you’ll be able to find a solution to your complicated situation.”

“I wish it were that easy,” he frowns, fluttering his eyelids shut as he lets the cold night breeze brush against his skin. 

A laugh escapes her lips, “Nothing is ever easy. Life would be boring if that were the case. But all I can say is, it’s really up to you whether you want to take action or not.” 

A comfortable silence engulfs the two occupants on the balcony, the soft chatter from the V.League Association party almost seemed it were music flowing throughout the large penthouse, the usual busy streets of Shinjuku were quiet as the time flew by, signalling how late it had gotten. 

“Thank you,” Atsumu breaks the silence, a small smile playing on his lips. 

She nods her head, returning his smile with her own, “It’s nothing, really. I may not know what’s really happening, but I know the feeling of being part of a complicated situation. Trust me, I’m having a hard time following my own advice.” 

“I’m sure you’ll—” 

“Am I interrupting something?” 

The two switch their attention over to the man that steps into the comfortable space, Atsumu flickering his gaze back and forth to the woman next to him and the volleyball player that made his appearance. He notes the stiff posture of the woman who had been accompanying him and he comes to the conclusion that it was his cue to leave. “Ah, no Ushijima-san. I believe you’re looking for this one, so I’ll leave you two to it.” 

Before Atsumu could leave the two to talk, the woman calls out his name. He glances back over his shoulder, capturing a glimpse of her encouraging smile. “If you love her, you should let her know.”

He gives her an appreciative smile before stepping back inside of the penthouse, the murmur of a chatter earlier from the balcony becoming more clear and loud. Placing the half-empty bottle of Sapporo down on a surface in the lounging area, he glances over at the digital wall clock. 

An hour until midnight. It would take him at least an hour or so to travel back to Kanagawa from Shinjuku.

Not wasting another second, despite the calls from his teammates, he leaves the party with determination. 

The thin hospital blanket you had requested earlier from a nurse barely gave you any warmth, your body engulfed in a chilly embrace. Not even curling up your body to a fetal position and clinging the white sheets closer gave you any source of heat. 

Letting out a groan of frustration, you push the blankets away and shift your body to a sitting position on the rather uncomfortable armchair provided by the hospital, giving up on sleep for the meantime. Aside from the murmur produced from the air conditioner and the steady beeping of Atsuhiro’s vitals indicating a healthy heartbeat from the monitor, it was too silent for your liking. 

You realize it was almost midnight after a quick glance at the digital clock that rested on the surface of the side table next to Atsuhiro’s bed, and you couldn’t help but let out a heavy sigh. At least Atsuhiro was sleeping peacefully. It had taken a while before he had gotten used to sleeping in another bed that wasn’t his, often waking up in the middle of the night or not being able to sleep at all. 

The sound of shuffling breaks your train of thought and you shift your attention over to your sleeping mother who you insisted occupied the small couch. A little sore back was nothing of an appreciation for your mother’s attentiveness to your sons. She had refused to return back to Hyōgo until Atsuhiro had been discharged from the hospital, and despite it taking awhile since there hadn’t been a suitable donor for him yet, not a single complaint had left your mother’s mouth. 

You couldn’t help but shoulder the burden of the delay on finding Atsuhiro a donor, the past weeks had been hectic and stressful. And if you were going to be honest, ever since that disaster of a dinner, you had been putting off the idea of having the much needed talk with Atsumu. You were just thankful that Atsuhiro’s condition hadn’t worsened since then.

You were, more or else, afraid, of where or how the conversation was going to end. The doubt you had was not just because of your insecurities, but it was also because, since that night, you hadn’t heard from Atsumu himself. You couldn’t blame him, the night had ended in disaster as well, nor was the morning after very pleasant from being bombarded with strings of questions from your friends. 

Fame. 

It was something you never got used to despite your friends being in a boy band for so long. You were now under the spotlight, and what was worse was that after some thorough digging by crazy fans, your sons, your precious sons, had been dragged through mud. However, you were grateful for certain fans, the fans of Galaxy Standard in particular, had defended you without much of a command from their idols. As soon as your name, and your kids, were mentioned, they immediately jumped in to defend you. Bless their souls. 

Although, you still couldn’t believe it yourself of the events that occurred right after you had exited the restaurant, intent on returning to the hospital. 

The already dreadful night takes a turn for the worst, the annoying high pitched shrill being repeated causing you to wince as the woman who had completely ruined, well, a already ruined dinner made her way through the threshold of little sanity that you had left and closed the gap between her and Atsumu by wrapping her arms around his neck from behind where he sat, she was dangerously standing close to you, more so enough for you to maybe stab your chopsticks to her side for her pesky squealing. What is she trying to imitate? A tortured pig? 

You didn't bother to cease your eye roll, this is Atsumu's type? Now, you know you aren't all that amazing or anything and looking at the woman clinging to Atsumu, she looked all around amazing, it was pretty obvious that she was a model. However, the personality she was exhibiting was nowhere near your expectations of the women Atsumu would date. It was overbearing. 

Instead of dealing with such ridiculous antics from a grown woman acting like a child, you decide it was best to find an excuse to leave. As the opportunity presented itself on a silver platter, you took it without any hesitation despite the quiet protests of Reiji from behind you. Exhaustion had left you with little sanity and dealing with someone like Yumi, well, you weren’t having it. 

Saying your polite goodbye, you left without another word, ignoring the pleading looks from your friends. It wasn’t as if you were angry or anything, maybe just a tad on the jealous side when Yumi had introduced herself as Atsumu’s girlfriend, but either than that, you just wanted a quiet night. The rowdy bunch was already enough to drain you, but having to deal with someone like Yumi? Yeah, no thanks. 

Stepping out of the restaurant, you shiver from the rush of cold air that brushes against the exposed patches of skin, making you silently regret not bringing a jacket with you. Instead of dwelling on your silly mistake, you wrap your arms around yourself for your momentary source of warmth, rubbing your exposed arms with your soft palms, it would have to do for the meantime. 

Luckily, you were familiar with the area since you’ve been to the restaurant more times than you can count, that despite not having a ride back to the hospital, you were at least knowledgeable of the area. You began your journey towards the nearest bus stop, knowing it was still fairly early since the dinner hadn’t even progressed that far yet. Somehow, despite being irritated by Yumi's presence, you were grateful for intrusion, at least you would be able to return to Atsuhiro earlier than expected. You’d have to give Shizuma a call once you return to the hospital to check on Atsuhiko. 

Thankfully, the walk to the nearest bus stop was short, because walking in heels was never something you adored, wincing already from the discomfort. You couldn’t wait to take them off for much more comfortable shoes. However, as you neared the bus stop, you hear his pleading shouts of your name and you halt almost instantly. For a moment, you wondered if it were just in your head, but at the sound of shouts mixed with hurried steps grew louder, your heart swells weirdly in your chest. Spinning around, you come to face Atsumu, catching his breath, his hands on his knees. 

“What…?” you mutter under your breath, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be entertaining your girlfriend back there?” 

As he regains his composure, he pushes himself to stand properly, meeting your gaze instantly. His gaze catching your breath in your throat. Mesmerizing. 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he shakes his head, looking at you with sincerity in his eyes, “I promise.” 

The corners of your mouth tug down to a frown, “Why are you telling me this, Atsumu? It’s fine. You’re not obligated to tell me who you’re dating. Just because we have kids together, doesn’t mean we should fix our shit and get togeth—” 

“I’m sorry,” he interrupts, causing your eyes to widen briefly before your brows furrowed in confusion from his apology. Sensing your confusion, he continues, “I’m sorry for everything. For our shitty past, for not treating you better, for not realizing my idiotic ways. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for a lot of things.” 

You press your lips to a thin line, racking your brain for a response. Well, what were you supposed to say? You had imagined this before, imagined what it would be like when Atsumu apologizes for things, and back then, you would have seen yourself rejecting his apologies, but as you stood there at that very moment, you couldn’t find the anger that you had. Then, you realized. This was Atsumu. 

Your best friend since you were eight years old, the one person that always bothered and teased you to no end, but no matter what, you could never find yourself being mad at him for a long period of time. You were always quick to forgive him. 

“And, I’m sorry for this,” he breaks your train of thought and you wonder what he means for a second, but as he closes the gap between the two of you as he cups your cheeks in his hands, you don’t fight back. 

You let him bring your face closer to his. 

You don’t fight back. 

Not even when his lips had found its rightful place against your own. 

You are pulled from your thoughts at the sound of knocking echoing throughout the quiet room, not realizing how your fingers have found their way against your lips, brushing along its luscious shape, almost as if you were reminiscing the sensation of his lips. 

The sound of knocking interrupts you once more and for a second, you had thought you had imagined it, but as it was repeated a few more times, you began wondering who it might be. After crossing the room in long strides, you slide the door open, eyes widening at the man standing before you.

“I love you.” 

#atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu imagine #atsumu imagines #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu imagines #hq #hq x reader #hq imagine #hq imagines #hq x you #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader

[honoredbastard]

ෆ self indulgent and entilted

characters — bonten!rindou haitani  + *yakuro nanami (oc) .

content and warnings   — mentions of drugs ( yo sanzu ), clubbing, stalker mention, mention(s) of drugging, yelling, angst(?), swearing, and so on.

note  — sorry for the dark content hhhhh, it came with the idea of ackerman being a yakuza that hated bonten and wanted yakuro gone. it may actually be apart of the fic i’m outlining..... these men hold my heart and WILL NOT LET GO OF IT. also they just like dive into my brain 24/7. help i had a fit over what looked best for three hours- at this point i’mma probably make a lil sum’ for sanzu. i love this man and i can’t stop having him appear in my stories that involve bonten. like this guy is 24/7 in the back of my mind.

                                         *Yakuro Nanami.                                            he/they/bun! 

                  Now playing ayanami  — by satin

rindou woke up first to yakuro wearing his bunny ears and a bunny pajama set that he seemed to just slip on before marching into bed. it was cute, but there was still smudges of makeup on his face and the dark circles of terrible inconsistent sleep. rindou sighed, brushing away blonde parts of hair that yakuro was chewing on. 

“yakuro.” rindou lightly pushed yakuro’s shoulder, trying to wake the boy in his semi bunny work attire. “rindou? rindou....” yakuro groaned, his head searched for rindou’s lap or hand that he could lean into. just exist near, to feel his skin and be aware of his warmth, that he was alive and not dead. that he stayed the whole night. “morning doll.” rindou smiled quietly, brushing his fingers over the boy’s hair. 

there was a knock on the door, “come in” as if that was a full offer to entangle himself with the couple he busted through the door and made a running start to jump onto the couple. “HI!” “i don’t do the touching, i’ll sit and pour you your drink and be your personal bunny. please treat the bunny well and we will have no problems. if they bunny feels uncomfortable the bunny has full rights to leave and find a new client. if you understand these rules please enjoy your bunny.”

yakuro stated as if he was at work. it was grilled into his brain and always had to repeat it infront of new clients. working at a bunny suit club was not it, almost rolling over onto sanzu. “bad work day?” “bad work day.” rindou confirmed sanzu’s suspicions with three simple  words. “yaku..” “no.” “yakuuu.” sanzu scooted in between the two, poking yakuro’s cheeks aggressively. he seemed sober, thank god. 

rindou shrugged the mans presence off and trudged to the bathroom to wash and whatnot. “you have another shift, ran told me to wake you up. “that’s not my problem. tell my boss to go fuck himself with a dildo filled with nails.” sanzu’s eyes widened, that was aggressive. although at the same time sorta funny?

“he said he’d cut off your shift times and cut back on how much money you make plus tips.” sanzu repeated what ran had informed him of, with a quite frustrated appearance.  “THAT FUCKER WILL NOT!” raising up from his laying position, yakuro ran into the hallway stumbling here and there from improper pace. 

“i’d love to see him try i swear if he even tries reducing my pay i’ll quit the whole fucking job how about that? i never liked this bullshit bunny shit anyways, it’s annoying when the customers try to touch and then you get stalkers.” yaku was mumbling to hell and back from his bosses call, waving to ran who nodded. making himself a bento before heading off on a small mission.

yaku threw open the washroom door and started searching for his bunny suit attire. the club’s theme was rainbow today so he washed a deep red suit with a black add-on tail and clip on black ears (which were foldable too. yakuro always folds one ear.) when yakuro made it back to his room, sanzu was gone and rindou was crouching near the bottom drawer.

“whatcha lookin for?” yakuro asked curiously, sitting beside the man who made a mess beside him “looking for a red suit now, i’m trying to match with you subtly.” cute- that was the only thinking yaku could think of this man who is a part of a criminal organization/gang. who woulda thought?

“i think you might be better with either a red with black tie or a deeper red of a suit.” yakuro suggested, getting up from his sitting position, joints cracking. “or black would go well, after all i’m only wearing red heel, a red body suit, and red makeup. the rest is black!” yakuro called out to rindou who was still crouched as he exited the room. taking into account his suggestions, he went with a more black with red accents attire.

           ާlocation, bunny palace! ෆ             late night, 11pm.

“here in bunny palace we have many bunnies to suit your taste! male, female, and even those who do not define themselves! run and created by the ackermans.” bunny palace is under the hands of those with the ackerman name. mikasa, the current owner, is softer on us than many. although the music blaring is not something you can get used to.

“hello! i’m moonie! it’s so good to meet you, are you new here?” yakuro was tired, it was about 4 more hours until he shift ended and he was already hungry again. salad’s really don’t fill you up especially when you wolf them down. his feet ached and cried out each time he took another step, he wanted to lay down and use rindou as his personal body pillow.... rindou! ‘i hope he’s okay.’ he thought, placing himself beside the very important client his boss claimed. “oh i am! it’s nice too meet you moonie.”

“it’s so good to meet you too! we have a few rules here that our bunnies tell each new client: i’ll sit and pour you your drink and be your personal bunny. please treat the bunny well and we will have no problems. if they bunny feels uncomfortable the bunny has full rights to leave and find a new client. if you understand these rules please enjoy your bunny. please keep touching to a minimal. do not force your bunny drinks or food. respect your bunny. is that doable?” yakuro asked with big puppy eyes, a big smile, and high pitched voice. “of course!” the customer happily said, hand already on his thigh.

i am SO uncomfortable was all that yaku could think about, his eyes flicking between the customer and each place his gross hands laid upon. squeezing every-so often like it was a pleasuring act for yaku. before he removed the man’s hand, he restrained himself. drawing a large breath before responding to the customer. “i’m so sorry sir! shall i get you something to drink?” yaku pouted, “if you’d like, moonie!” i’m saved.

yakuro smiled and stood up, “why of course! i’ll be right back!” like a breath of relief, he rushed to the staff room. he waved to some girls, “not on stage today moonie?” one asked, a baby stripper new to the bunny palace club. “yeah! boss was all: ‘act cutesy, be close, allow touching this once. there are really important customers here today.’ like thanks for threatening my paycheck and then saying that!”

“oh my, that’s rough babe. ackerman is always like that, it’s like she has a stick up her ass.” one of the older strippers that had been with yakuro since he started chimed in, “you’re right!” yaku chuckled, leaning closer into his vanity mirror to adjust his lipstick and have a chance to message rindou. 

40 missed messages. “i’m so fucked.” “why’s that babe?” “i may have forgot to message rindou telling him ackerman added hours onto my shift.” the room grew tense, “that’s awful? read his messages.” sei suggested, “might cool him off if he’s angry.

“alright!” yaku sighed with a smile, opening the messages. to his surprise, rindou wasn’t angry but instead worried that a client had gotten too touchy and triggered yakuro. after all, ran did inform rindou about the bits and pieces that sanzu did not tell yaku. “whew, i’m good! i’m safe. he’s just worried....” sei and bab took a loud sigh and began laughing. “BUT I’M FUCKED.” “really? that’s great! now go out! your client must be waiting.” 

yup the girls took it that way. “i will! don’t worry don’t worry. i just hope sanzu doesn’t buy the whole club.” “he won’t now go!” sei pushed out yaku who glanced over at the client who finished the previous bottle. his nose was red and was slightly swaying back and forth.

walking up to the bar, yakuro ran into polaris. “polar!” “moonie.” “can you get something for my client? he seems to be a lightweight.” “sure, i’m sure he wouldn’t mind beer.” polar sat down the cup he was wiping back and forth to keep busy.

“the bar isn’t very busy huh?” “oh no, it’s just we got our best girls today dancing and the waitresses and working ten times harder. it works out for both of them and neither of them have to fight each other about unfair pay. tomorrow you’ll be our best so good luck.” polar smiled earnestly to add to the words of encouragement, sliding over the foaming beer over the black marbled counter. 

“thanks! i’ll need it.” turning with the drink in hand, yaku noticed the man’s disgruntled face. he looked as if the whole world was going to blow up and he was watching the countdown. ‘act cutesy, act cutesy, act cutesy.’ it was a constant mantra in his head before he sat down and opened his mouth.

“what could be wrong sir?” yaku felt like rolling his eyes into oblivion, he could care less. “oh it’s just something wrong with the gang.” “oh my, a yakuza?” boring, yaku fake gasped handing over the bear to the angered man. “yeah!” he said pridefully with a chuckle, gulping the drink down and slamming it down. “something about bonten this and that and one of our men died.”

now that’s interesting. yaku felt like walking out to just go see sanzu, it felt like everything was reminding yakuro of him. hell even the purple lights were. but alas he was stuck eyeing the entrance while the man babbled on and on about this whole yakuza shin-dig he was in. he decided to slip off his shoes because the waitresses’ assured the man that they would handle getting drinks.

it felt like hours, drink after drink the world became more hazy. yakuro grew a high tolerance because of his job but he seemed to be losing himself while the client seemed more than sober. “you.. slipped somethin, huh?” the client beside him flinched, clenching onto his bag. “w-what? are you sure you don’t have a low tolerance m-mr. moonie?” the man stammered, through gritted teeth yaku managed to huff out a ‘whatever’.

“miss. ackerman set you up? thought so, the bitch never liked me because i have a bonten member for a partner. guess i’m finally leaving this hellhole. send her my best regards, yeah?” he asked with a agitated tone. his words were laced with threats, raising slowly. “mr. moonie?” “i’m leaving, i want to leave. i have to go see rindou.” he dug the acrylic nails that were done just recently into his thigh. fuck the shoes. 

whatever was in the drink didn’t seem strong but it had yakuro in and out of conscience. the man who was once his client seemed nowhere to be found, leaving a stumbling yaku to himself. sei noticed this and dropped her waiters plate, running over to the bunny who was just about to fall. “MOONIE!” 

          ާlocation, the bonten loft.             early morning, 3am.

blue eyes fluttered open, fighting the urge to close once more. “they’re awake! rindou, they’re all good!” a familiar voice echoed throughout yakuro’s head. his body felt numb, in an attempt to speak he noticed his voice was gone. every one of his senses felt like they were being drowned under water. his eyesight was the only thing that was significantly normal.

though his contacts seemed to be taken off, leaving the blue and purple hues of yaku’s true eye colour roaming free. rindou’s footsteps were heavy and had a quick pace, the vibrations went through the bed. “yaku?” his usual docile purple eyes were filled with worry and anger mixed together, forever burning until yakuro got better.

all the man managed to do was a weak smile, his eyes blinked slowly while he stared at rindou. the two conversed, rindou’s agitation growing as his jaw clenched harder with every muffled word sanzu spoke. “i am very upset sanzu, yakuro was drugged. AGAIN!” “we can’t do anything but sit it out! we don’t even know who it was. rindou you need to calm down.” sanzu too was frustrated beyong belief.

the whole loft was filled with tension that was denser than a brick wall. everyone considered yakuro a part of bonten after two years. he even got a bonten tattoo per mikey’s request. it lays on his right shoulder which he covers up during his job with makeup despite his hatred, it was the only condition ackerman gave him before he could work at bunny palace. ackerman and bonten hated each other, seeing a bonten tattoo at the ackermans would start a war. 

“he’s quitting that job and working at our club. this is the last time i’ll EVER see him like this again.” this wasn’t the first time rindou raised his voice when he was angered by the way yakuro looked in this condition. unable to move, speak, only look plainly at the wall with a weak smile here and there.

it tore him apart from the inside out each time, it did every member living in the loft. finally after whatever happened between those two. sanzu left, rindou left as well but returned with water and began to cuddle the numb and quiet yakuro.

#toyko revengers #tokyorev #tokyorev imagine #tokyo revengers rindou #rindou haitani #rindo haitani #x oc #fanfiction #tokyorev fanfiction #tokyo revengers fanfiction #bonten #tokyorev bonten #ran haitani #sanzu haruchiyo #angst #soft ending #angst with a hopeful ending #𝄖entiwrites

[moonyblackwerewolf]

The Letter Ch. 3 - Sirius Black

Betrothed Ch. 3

Sirius Black x fem!Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: Sirius and Y/N meet at a family dinner and have some fun, later she finds out she is betrothed to some pureblood boy so Sirius comes up with a mental idea to save them both.

Warnings: Kissing, hints of sex, 'aggressive' parents, underage drinking, idk my writing and English? lol

a/n: I don't really know how i feel about this, so i hope you guys like it. Feedback is always welcome too :)

Xxxx

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch. 2.5 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch. 5 

The exams were now over, Y/N and Lily were at the Great Hall eating breakfast, the smell of bacon and fruits invading their noses, they could enjoy the morning Saturday sun and the pancakes without worrying about the exams.

“What did you think about the Potions test? I can’t stop thinking about that last question I think got it wrong” Lily mumbled while picking up an apple.

“Oh Lils, you are so cute” Y/N laughed at her friend’s worries. “I can’t remember, but we can go to library today and check, but I’m sure you got it right, Slughorn has his reasons for inventing you for his little club” Y/N/N pointed out and Lily nodded, while looking at her sister who was staring suspiciously at her “At least you got in for pure talent, not because he wanted to suck up to your father” she chuckled, trying to avoid her sister’s gaze.

“That’s a lie, you’re one of the best Potions student Y/N/N i’m sure you-” Lily was cut off by Diana standing by her sister’s side.

“Got your mail yet Y/N/N? I’m so delighted for you, when Mother and Father told me I started planning the party already, Slytherin common room Sunday 8 p.m, also if you need help getting your hair done you can ask me.” Y/N was scared, her sister was never this nice to her, something was going on.

“Why Sunday?” But she was interrupted.

As if Diana knew when the letter would arrive, an Elegant snowy owl showed up carrying a letter from her parents. “What’s that” she was now genuinely scared as she saw Lucius looking at her from the Slytherin table. Lily who has calmed her down on several sleepless nights after the Malfoy incident looked between the two girl worried, connecting the dots about the letter’s content, as her friend read the letter and stormed out of the Hall. Lily tried to follow her but she just vanished. She looked for Y/N everywhere but she seemed to be nowhere to be found, she was feeling scared and even desperate, what could’ve made Y/N so upset, her family of course, but what did they do?

Y/N was in the only place in the castle Lily didn’t look for, the Hufflepuff common room, her friend Amos Diggory, a handsome boy, who would was loyal and would do anything for his friends, let her in and stay in his room, since it was Saturday and everyone was outside. She laid in his bed, heart racing threatening to jump off her chest, she felt sick and completely and utterly alone and unloved, she felt stuck in a life she never asked for and an inevitable future, this feeling of despair was too much for her to hold, like she would always do. Y/N buried her faced in Amos’ pillow and cries the life out of her, she couldn’t believe and in the same time she always knew this would happen, but it didn’t make it all less painful.

“Hi” Amos knocked on the room’s door delicately earning a jump from the girl. “I’m sorry, but you seem like someone who desperately needs a friend” he said with a sympathetic smile.

She smiled warmly at the boy and let him sit by her side, he offered her his shoulder to cry on, soothing the girl, even though he didn’t know why she was so sad. Eventually she told him everything and he was as disgusted as she was, his heart ached for his friend, he couldn’t imagine what was like to have her parents and go through what she was. He could only help.

“You should go tell your friends, they never leave your side, they’ll probably want to know about this, you should trust them Y/N/N” he suggested with a reassuring smile, wrapping her in a hug. Y/N loved that on Amos, he was so sweet and helpful and never asked for anything in return, he was a true Hufflepuff, she always teased him.

“But I don’t want them to worry, it’s not really easy for me to trust people and it’s nothing really, I don’t want to be dramatic” she sighed looking troubled.

“Y/N/N, i can assure you, you’re not being dramatic” he paused looking at her with a concerned smile “You have all the right to be upset, i’d be too in your situation, i’d demand justice for me and the other person too, it’s not fair, but you should tell your friends, they must be really worried”

“You’re right badger, thank you for letting me stay here, if you ever need something you know where to find me” she mumbled quietly still trying to hold her tears desperately.

It was nighttime by the time she was heading to the Gryffindor tower. The marauders were at the empty Gryffindor common room, they had just finished packing and were siting by the fireplace talking, Lily looking worried whispering to herself places she might’ve forgotten to search, when y/n entered the room the girl stood up fast and wrapped her in the tightest hug she could give only letting her friend go after her arms became sore, y/n mumbled a thank you hugging Lily again and then gave Sirius a kiss on the cheek and laid on his chest, she was looking completely broken, that made the boys get concerned too. 

“Hey guys” she said with voice of someone who has been crying. Sirius started caressing her hair, the group was now completely quiet until.

“Y/n-” Remus Lupin said softly “What’s wrong? Have you been crying?” His question made everyone look at her and she shifted in her Sirius lap a bit, his hands still caressing her hair patiently waiting for her answer, Lily was sitting next to them in the sofa, she grabbed her friend’s hand reassuringly.

“I got this letter from my parents today- at breakfast” she said, her voice completely numb she sounded like someone who had abandoned all hope. She then took  a letter with a fancy wax seal with an “W” from her coat, she couldn’t say it so she handed it to Sirius. The seal was already broken from when she read it earlier and the parchment had stains that suggested crying, he started reading the letter, Lily peaking too, while the other boys were curious and he’s blood was boiling with anger.

He stood up abruptly and screamed “No way they're making you do this- Over my dead body, Y/n”. Sirius’ reaction startled the boys, but he was so angry he didn’t even notice James taking the letter and reading it aloud.

Dear Y/n,

Your father and i are delighted to inform you that after a few meetings with family friends, we have decided, together with the Malfoys, that you and their son, Lucius, are now engaged and the marriage will happen soon after your graduation.

Lucius has already talked with his parents and he is more than happy for taking your hand in matrimony if you accept him, in our meeting with Abraxas Malfoy this evening, he has told us how Lucius cares about and wants to protect you. Therefore we were shocked to hear that you’ve been spending many nights in the Gryffindor tower and been ignoring your fellow housemates including Lucius.

In light of theses events we’ve decided that you will be spending Christmas break in the Malfoy manor, so you and Lucius can seal each other’s promise contract and get used to each other and future married life.

Now Y/n, you are going to listen very carefully what i’m going to tell you, young lady, you are going to behave AND accept this proposal, the Malfoys are a very respectful pureblood family, they were extremely delighted to know about your interest in their son. The Watson name carries weight in our world, I don’t want you doing anything that could compromise that. Now you are going to sleep every night of the rest of your years at Hogwarts in the Slytherin dorms, we already talked with Lucius and he is going to stay with you the whole night if necessary.

With Love,

Charles Edward Watson and Louise Helena Watson

“Holy shit y/n/n” James gasped “I’m so sorry, I can’t believe your parents would do that” he paused pondering if he should joke or not, and figured it could help “but is that their way of making you shag Malfoy?, Godric they’ don’t even try to be subtle” y/n chuckled humourlessly.

“Really? because I do, that’s what all these crazy purists families do, they breed their children, they don’t care about love or anything of the sort, I can’t believe how much time I spent putting up with their shit, pretending to agree with them” she hissed starting to sound more angry, she couldn’t believe it herself she just couldn't admit.

“Y/n we won’t let that happen” Remus reassured her grabbing other her hand “we’ll do anything to help you” all the boys and Lily agreed, except for Sirius that was on a weird kind of angry trance. Lily jumped from her seat and hugged her best friend with all the love she could give again.

She was happy to see her friends helping her, she didn’t feel as alone as she felt this morning, but still, reality was rough, she’d have to marry that prick Lucius Malfoy that she and the Marauders hated so much, he was a real blood purist just like their parents and that made her feel suffocated.

Suddenly Sirius burst out of his trance and went to his dorm, which scared the remaining group on the common room, making Y/n follow him. The common room went silent. After she left they sighed “I can’t believe she’s having to go through that, she doesn’t deserve it, this year she’s been nothing but a good friend, she even helped you study Moony and she became your best friend Lily, we all know you talk about us when you’re alone” James sighed “I wish we could do something for her”.

“Yes, we sure do Potter” Lily shrugged a bit absentmindedly, wondering what was happening in the other room.

“Siri, what’s going on with you?” She asked a bit startled by his sudden weirdness, while standing in the threshold. He was searching for something frenetically in his trunk. “What are you searching for Sirius?” 

“Y/n/n- Y/n” he turned to her seriously “there’s no way i’m letting you marry Malfoy” he stared so deep into her eyes that she felt a shiver run down her spine. 

“Thanks you Sirius, I love you for that, but there's nothing me or you can do to help, believe me i’ve been trying to find a way out since i read that letter, but there isn’t” she sighed her voice cracking “All I can do is enjoy the little time i’ve left before i’m Mrs. Malfoy” she ran her hand in her face and looked at Sirius “But I appreciate your efforts” Sirius made his way to where she was and caressed her cheeks looking at her with a determination Y/n couldn’t understand.

“I’m going to do everything i can to help you- even if I’ll have ask my monster of a mother for help” he revealed.

“What?” She gasped, surprised and confused at his revelation to say the least.

“I hate to say it out loud but- I’m still a Black, from the Noble house of Black” He paused and Y/n began to catch up with his plan, still a little shocked “I bet it’ll be easy to convince my mom, if i Sirius Black, her hopeless case of a son, tell her he wants to marry Elena Watson the daughter of the Royal house of Watson, she would finally be at least pleased with me” 

“WHAT?! No way Sirius, no- no! absolutely not” she almost choked on her words, shock written all over her face. “I’m not letting you ruin your life for me! No way! Do you even know what you’d be doing? You’d be committing yourself for the rest of your life and you know your parents AND mine wouldn’t let us divorce till the day they die at least! There is no going back and they certainly won’t let us escape, never” She was not going to let him ruin his life too.

“I know that perfectly well, but would it be that bad? we’re best friends and it’s not like we never slept together before” Y/n was in shock, left without words, Sirius Black wanting to commit with someone, he truly was a good friend but she looked at him with a gaze that said ‘no’ “Y/n… if you don’t accept this, then i’ll help you escape” he grabbed her hand and held it tightly in his chest, for a moment he wondered what about it made him feel so angry, angrier than the other boys, he felt this urge to protect her so much it almost hurt “I- just- i can’t stand seeing you suffering from this and being forced to sleep in the same bed as Malfoy- it makes me so angry, i want to protect you- I promised I would protect you, you’ve became one of my best friends this year I can’t let you go through this” he was looking at her with desperate eyes, almost imploring her to let him help her, it made Y/n’s heart jump from her chest.

“I don’t know what to do Sirius” her eyes were filling up with tears again, she was trying hard not to cry, as a wave of courage hit her and made her stop, she needed to grow up. “But I can’t escape my home, my parents would find me and probably-” she paused reconsidering if telling Sirius about her parents’ ways of parenting was a good idea, remembering Amos’ words, but even though she decided against it, she didn’t want him to worry more then he already was “I’m going to be okay, everything’s going to be fine. I’m going home and i’ll tell my parents that i won’t oblige, that I won’t be a pawn on their sick game of blood purity” she finished, more determined than she had been during the day, knowing that it’d be a foolish mistake, but it was confrontation or marriage.

“Are you sure Y/n? You want me to go with you?” He asked concerned, not feeling confident in her idea, it seemed dangerous and reckless, normally he’d love a little danger, but the fact that she could get hurt made him opposed to it.

“Yes, you don’t need to come with me, I think its better if I go alone, my parents can get- irritated. I’ll send you letters and i’ll keep you updated i promise” with that she kissed his cheek.

“Y/n/n are you really sure? I don’t think it’s- I don’t know your parents but I know mine and they wouldn’t react really well if I confronted them that way” Y/n knew what Sirius meant, but she had to try, so she whispered a yes burying her head in his neck as he wrapped her in a tight hug.

They both returned to the common room, updating their friends about what had happened and then they tried to have a pleasant last day at Hogwarts, the boys reassured Y/n even more and promised they’d be there for her if she ever needs them. The rest of the day they tried to forget all of their problems and talked, James kept trying to invite Lily out and she kept saying no while everyone laughed at the boy, Y/n laid in Sirius’s chest enjoying this little interactions while she still could. Sirius’ plan never left the back of his mind, he wasn’t sure if she’d be able to convince the Watsons, they didn’t strike him as understanding people. Little did he know how right he was.

The next day went by fast, everyone finished packing and met at the train station. The group left the Hogwarts Express and entered platform 9 3/4 everyone said their goodbyes, hugging and wishing Y/n worried good lucks, then heading to their respective families.

“I wish you could meet my family, Y/n/n, expect my sister, she’d be mean to you” Lily pouted as Y/n hugged her tightly for the last time in two weeks. “I’m gonna write you ok? with the names we planned” the both best friends chuckled, they had created nicknames so Y/n’s parents wouldn’t suspect about Lily.

“Oh Lils thank you, I’m gonna miss you so much, wish you could visit me” Y/n whispered sadly leaving Lily’s embrace after she said she would miss her too, heading to Sirius.

“Hey beautiful” Sirius murmured while wrapping her in a hug and lifting her making her laugh. “Wanna meet mommy and daddy Black, they’ll love you?” 

“Of course” she chuckled in his lap, being so close to him made her heart jump faster, she didn’t want to let go, never “And of course they will, how could they not like me” she joked.

Sirius put her in the ground slowly, heart jumping too, grabbed her wrist and the two of them walked to where his parents and brother were waiting, he hated his parents but he wanted an excuse to spend more time with her. “Mother, Father, this is Y/n Watson” he mocked his parents, who were clearly shocked their son had perhaps grown some sense into his head.

“Miss Watson, what a pleasure to see you again, darling, how are your parents doing?” Mr. and Mrs. Black asked politely. Walburga was a tall raven haired woman with an elegant appearance and stern face, she was quite scary, Mr. Black looked just like his wife but older and more serious.

“Suck ups” Sirius whispered in her ears making her giggle, she could feel his breath against her ear and it made her shiver.

“They’re alright, thank you Mr. Black, how are you?” Y/n asked, looking so much like her mother that it scared Sirius, he had to hide his laugh.

Before Mr. Black answered, Mr. and Mrs. Watson showed up, with angry faces. Mrs. Watson grabbed Y/n’s wrist strongly making her wince, pushing her to their side.

“Walburga, Orion, what a pleasure to see you” Mr. Watson offered his hand to the couple, softening his face a little, Mrs. Watson smiled, while whispering.

“Y/n, where is Lucius? Haven’t you been seeing him? You should be here with him young lady” her mother hissed at her, angry with the lack of effort from her daughter to make the marriage happen.

Sirius looked at Y/n’s wrist and suspected, he felt angry at Mrs. Watson, something was wrong, but he couldn’t do anything in front of their parents, so he just looked reassuringly at her.

“Pleasure to see you too Charles, we hope to see you and Louise at the Rosiers later this week” Mrs. Black politely suggested.

“Of course” with that the Watsons said goodbye and the both families headed their separate ways, breaking Sirius’ and Y/n’s grasp on each other.

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter marauders #harry potter fanfiction #hp #hp marauders #marauders era #young marauders #marauder #marauders fanfiction #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #marauders x y/n #sirius black #sirius black x reader #james & peter & remus & sirius #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x slytherin reader #james potter #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #lily evans #sirius orion black #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #prongs #padfoot #moony #wormtail #lily potter #lily evans x james potter

[zoufantastical]

What do you think of how much more bad ass they have made Sylvie over Loki in terms of action? (I'm not complaining big fan of it) Do you feel as if the show runner herself is giving Sylvie as much screen time and moments that often eclipse Loki bc she may be a character who's main purpose was to uplift and expand Loki's character, and that was her only original purpose? As if maybe she wasn't intended to last in the Marvel universe, at least in this incarnation? Seeing how most of this show is ran by the point of view of some women, that what we have with Sylvie is what we get bc of this reason? Do u feel it would have been different had it been otherwise? Or do you feel differently then my observation? Would love any point of view.

Why First Impressions Matter

Let me just say I was ecstatic over this ask. Finally something different (not that I don’t enjoy the previous asks) that forces me to talk about something that has been lingering in the back of my mind since the show started.

If you guys could be patient with me, I would appreciate it. I’m going to deviate a lil bit and talk about a point that relates to this ask and basically explains this user’s concern.

So, my mother says that she gives a show around ten minutes or so to grab her interest. At first I thought it was a bit ridiculous, since that means she’s missing out on a lot of great potentials because of this rule. I respected her opinion of course. Now, ever since the Loki show started though, I understand why she believes in it.

Marvel is very lucky they have loyal fans like us who will eat up whatever they spoon fed us. Even amongst heavy criticism. Despite people hating on the character Loki in his show by calling him “Larry” , the writers “clowns” or calling him OOC and a sidekick on his own show (please if you have the time, read the short post I linked), I finally understand their sentiment, which in a way is misplaced because of what I’m going to mention:

The first ten minutes of the first episode of Loki could should have been better.

What do I mean by this? Two things actually.

Imagine that you are a new MCU fan and you want to catch up on the movies or someone wanting to binge watch the entire saga again. You finish the first avengers movie but you decide to deviate and watch Loki, which is based on 2012 Avengers Loki. What’s one thing that’s going to throw them off immediately? Guess.

If you did congrats.

It’s the hair.

As a loyal fan, this will ALWAYS confuse me. There’s also the fact that they shot new scenes with the overly long spiky ends wig. So…why the sudden change in appearance? I started headcanoning that traveling through space and dimensions fucks up your evil blowout just for my sanity.

Already we are on the wrong path.

Now you may think this is minor and shouldn’t matter but appearances DO matter and sometimes we don’t pick up on inconsistencies right away, however, they do stay in our minds and form this domino effect later on which is what is happening with a lot of displeased fans.

The second is this joke of a scene.

If there was any time that Loki needed to display some of his abilities we were introduced at the end of episode two and throughout episode three, this would have been the perfect moment. Loki may be cocky, petty and boastful, but he is not stupid.

He just barely escaped with the tesseract. He would not approach ignorantly and all cocky mighty, a group of people who seem to look very dangerous. This is 2012 Loki. You know the dangerous god that a group of talented individuals joined forces to stop because it would have been the end of their world as they know it? A Loki who will be on high alert because not only will SHIELD and the Avengers be looking for him but eventually the Other and Thanos as well.

What I would have done to rewrite the strength and seriousness of the TVA without outright humiliating Loki in the process, this scene instead should have been a fight scene. Loki would have been full of adrenaline, displaying all his feats only to be caught off guard by B-15 and THEN you could make this infamous scene.

We already know that the TVA agents are trash fighters and easily beaten grunts based on later scenes. A scene like what I recommended would have prepared us for that. Otherwise now we are calling the rest of the fight scenes in this show also inconsistent with what we were presented in their first appearance.

Another rewrite I would have done is NOT start off the show using the Endgame Loki escaping scene. A great majority of people watching the show are because they already KNOW this Loki escaped with the space stone. Starting off with a recap, a recap all the way to the elevator scene no less, is not only way too long but unnecessary.

To peek the audiences’ interest, one should have started with a short scene of TVA hunting The hooded mysterious Variant and the latter killing them. It could be anywhere in time. Not only would that peek ones interest and wonder who this figure is, they’ll assume they are trouble and that they might cause an issue with Loki if they were to cross each other’s path etc basically you’ll have the audience’s mind scrambled and excited. THEN after the marvel logo you can put the recap scene.

[If you made it this far, congrats, because I’m finally going to start answering this user’s question]

What do you think of how much more bad ass they made Sylvie over Loki in terms of action?

And this is why I made a big deal of explaining what I’ve said above. Is not that Sylvie is more badass. In fact, Sylvie should have more scenes than the ones we are given. It’s the fact that the Loki actions scenes started off misplaced and were not started strong enough to make an impactful expression. It’s why they are calling him all sorts of things like weak, clown, OOC, stupid, inconsistent etc even though later on he is shown to be intelligent and strong.

Unfortunately (but not surprisingly) Sylvie’s character has been bound by her male counterpart’s. The majority of her scenes are with Loki, whether they were fighting or developing her character. This…is not the best writing choice but given this is only 6 episodes and time is short, they are pitting these two together as early as episode two in order to establish their partnership/relationship.

This choice sacrifices character screen time so the plot can move forward. Sylvie so far has only three meaningful scenes ever since being introduced (without Loki) and personally I feel that’s not enough.

Being paired with Loki 95% of the time is why you and many believe that she is taking Loki’s shine. We hadn’t had time, as a viewer, to fully appreciate Sylvie despite her not wanting to be called or relate to the name Loki. We haven’t had time to BREATHE and actually enjoy this new character especially since the majority of her scenes she is bounded by the hip to Loki! You are also right to believe that her character seem to have been created to “uplift and expand” Loki’s character-because SHE IS! And the latest episode basically confirms that!

I wouldn’t be surprised if Sylvie is a character exclusively used for the Loki show. So far there are no plans of using her beyond the series. Which is unfortunate because it means that even with female writers behind the script, decisions were made and accepted to have the Sylvie character move and react to the plot along side a male character. It’s fine for that to happen but when it’s the majority of their screen time, then it’s an issue. So your observation is correct.

Don’t get me wrong, I have been enjoying the show so far. Not loving it but it’s been entertaining despite some of it’s…creative choices. One thing that has been in common so far in MCU series is that they aim too high with a big budget only for them to not put the same time and care on a story they want to tell.

It really is unfortunate because there are moments in the show that has been done great! But again many choices has to do with the fact that Marvel and Disney are obsessed with keeping up this schedule and milking a show as much as they can. Because that’s their brand.

I can’t tell you additionally what I would have done differently. I guess we would have to wait till the Finale for me to properly answer that question.

#Loki #Loki show #Loki series #mcu loki #mcu #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki friggason #Sylvie #Sylvie laufeydottir #marvel #disney plus #loki negativity #loki discourse #asks

[cruelfeline]

One of the aspects of Hordak that strikes me so significantly when compared to other characters is the unexpected, terrifying escalation of his situation. 

We don’t really see this happen with anyone else: generally speaking, our other characters are very much a case of “what you see is what you get.” Adora is perhaps a bit of an exception, seeing as her status as “First Ones gun trigger” is used as a plot twist in season four, but her general background and the overall nature of her situation remain fairly consistent throughout the show. 

Same with Catra. Same with Glimmer and Bow. Mermista, Perfuma, Scorpia, Frosta... everyone else receives a backstory and, barring minute elaborations, stays true to our first impressions of them. Our understanding of who they are and what they are about doesn’t really change.

Hordak is not this way.

Hordak starts off as a pretty standard, one-dimensional evil warlord character. Season one finds him very much delegated to the background, supposedly pulling the strings behind the scenes as other characters have their dramas play out center stage. He is well-designed and frightening, an imposing individual with a stoic personality and a sense of reason and logic that marks him as an effective commander. 

We get no backstory at this point, and the initial impression of the character (at least for me) is “capable evil leader, little to no depth beyond what is absolutely necessary.” And that’s fine. At this point in the story, there’s no suggestion that Hordak will have any sort of role save for serving as an ultimate antagonist for our heroes, so a backstory is largely unnecessary. He appears properly built to provide powerful opposition, and that’s all we need.

This is Hordak’s starting point. It is a serviceable starting point. It is also stunningly different from his end point, and at this stage in the series, there is zero indication that there is going to be any alteration, let alone such a dramatic one.

Seasons two and three see Hordak gaining actual development. Significant development. Development that provides him with a painful, sympathetic reason for waging his war. Suddenly, Hordak is not an all-powerful, untouchable warlord. Suddenly, he is a vulnerable individual with significant physical ailments and resulting emotional trauma. 

His situation has escalated. 

We see now that his body is falling apart, that he is sickly and weak and dependent upon armor and bravado to maintain control over his subordinates. We see that he is not the stoic, omnipotent man presented to us in season one. 

Instead, we learn that he is a manufactured clone with deep emotional wounds linked to past rejection and trauma, that he comes from a society where his illness is scorned enough to earn him rejection and what amounts to a death sentence. We come to understand that he views himself very poorly, and that a significant number of his negative character traits are rooted in shame and fear and a desperate need for validation.

we also learn that he has cute lil ears that can wiggle and droop when he’s sad

To these significant developments we add his budding friendship with Entrapta, and we find that Hordak is very much capable of desiring, forming, and maintaining a positive, affectionate relationship with someone. His character thus becomes even more complex.

Now, something to keep in mind at this point: thanks to revelations provided by his backstory, we can view Hordak as a more vulnerable individual with legitimate feelings and insecurities. That said, there is still a certain dangerous edge to him. At this point in the series, we have been told, by Hordak himself, that he was a top general in a much larger version of the Horde. 

This supposed fact somewhat tempers his vulnerability. We get the sense that, while he is suffering from the shame and subsequent rejection brought on by his disability, his ultimate goal of rejoining his brother still involves a certain level of power. There is this idea that, though he wants validation and acceptance, he is also seeking to regain a position that, theoretically, grants him greater power and authority than the one he holds now. Hence why he doesn’t just settle for conquering and ruling Etheria: being lord of Etheria does not hold a candle to the power granted him by regaining his rank as Horde Prime’s top general.

One can look back at the fandom during late 2019 to fully appreciate this: fanfiction from this time period often features headcanons of particularly accomplished clones holding respected positions in Prime’s empire. High ranking clones have names and titles. They have ships. They have their own planets and their own armies. Even though they serve Prime and are, sadly, purpose-bred clones, they have power and status that provide them with a certain level of agency. 

Essentially, there was the idea that a traditional Horde military structure exists, and Hordak held privilege within it.

So, while Hordak’s situation has escalated in emotional poignancy from “evil warlord wanting to rule the world” to “defective clone seeking validation,” there remains an unsympathetic aspect to it. There is still some degree of potential power-hunger that one can attribute to him. 

This changes, very suddenly and traumatically, in seasons four and five. And this, friends and neighbors, is where I begin to become very emotional.

Our first indication that things are about to wildly change comes during the season four finale. We meet Horde Prime. We see how submissive and terrified Hordak is in his presence. We witness Prime’s distaste not only for the state of him and his failed conquest, but for Hordak daring to take a name.

It is Hordak’s name being a problem that plants the seeds for an upheaval of our preconceived notions regarding a clone’s function in the Galactic Horde. Those seeds germinate abruptly and violently in the next few moments as Prime lifts Hordak by the throat, declares him an abomination, and viciously violates and erases his mind.

And oh, friends and neighbors, now we know that something is wrong. 

We don’t quite know the specifics yet, but we know that there is some sort of discrepancy between what Hordak told us and the truth he has lived. At no point in the narrative did Hordak say anything about names being inappropriate. At no point did he say anything that might have prepared us for the suspiciously religiously-coded language Prime is using. At no point did he say anything to suggest that there was anything wrong with what he was doing beyond trying to compensate for a physical disability.

And then, alongside all of these dark little surprises, there are the hauntingly blank stares of the clones standing besides Prime’s throne.

All of these factors instill a sense of dread that culminates in the chilling reveal of the Galactic Horde’s true nature come season five.

It is a cult. An honest-to-the-gods, played-absolutely-straight religious cult.

The Galactic Horde isn’t a traditional army, or an aggressive nation, or even a standard imperialist empire. It is a cult, with Horde Prime as its god and countless clone acolytes acting as its horrifically willing members.

We never see a top general, or any generals at all. We never see any sort of military hierarchy. We never see clones leading armies, or owning ships, or holding ranks, or commanding anyone or anything.

What we see instead is clones blindly worshiping their Brother. We see them doting on him, sacrificing their own life force to maintain his form. We see them forfeiting control of their bodies to him whenever he feels like using another’s form. We see them chanting the virtue of suffering to achieve purity. We see them blank and emotionless save for religious zealotry, a purpose-bred cohort of completely brainwashed followers. We see that there is no apparent escape from this life, for Prime sees their minds and controls every aspect of their existence, and we see that there is no desire for escape among them, so utterly indoctrinated are they.

We see Hordak reduced to one of these cowl-wearing acolytes: nameless, powerless, ready and willing to endure physical agony in order to forget his shame and relinquish his self to his Brother in the hopes of... well, certainly not of regaining some exalted military rank, or of reclaiming some previously-held status. These things do not exist. Not in this actual religious cult.

Hordak’s true situation is now fully apparent, and it is so far removed from our views of him back in previous seasons: rather than being a calculating warlord, or even a defective clone seeking to regain military glory, Hordak is a manufactured soldier-slave who was born into a religious cult, so indoctrinated and bound to his Brother that he risks his own life in order to win Prime’s love and approval.

Because that’s what this final realization confirms: Hordak was never after any sort of power or prestigious military status. They never existed. Hordak was, in the end, an abused slave trying desperately to win love from his loveless master. He truly was just after validation and affection and a feeling of secure belonging. All things that he was deprived of because he was born a slave-acolyte in a godsforsaken cult. 

And that’s... that’s such a vastly different state of affairs than the one we accepted in season one. It completely rewrites our understanding of Hordak’s power, of his vulnerability, of his true wants and needs and desires. Said understanding shifts from a purely villainous one to one steeped in self-loathing and control and lifelong victimization. It is absolutely shocking to see a character’s circumstances completely transform the way Hordak’s do between the show’s beginning and its finale. It is utterly bewildering to witness this intensity of change.

As I stated at the start: this doesn’t happen to anyone else. Oh, other characters develop and grow and undergo their arcs, sure, but by and large, Catra remains a scrappy catgirl. Adora remains an orphaned heroine. Swift Wind remains a revolutionary winged steed.

Only Hordak undergoes a transformation as dramatic as shifting from “all-powerful conquering warlord” to “defective clone seeking validation... but maybe also galactic power” before finally settling, tearfully and painfully, on “shamed, love-starved cult victim.” Only his situation, his true identity and our understanding of it, escalate so shockingly and to such terrifying levels. 

I’m still not over it. I still cry about it. I still feel light-headed sometimes, knowing that Hordak's circumstances revolve around being born into and abused and thrown away by an actual cult. Even though we're over two months out from SPoP's finale, it's still that emotionally powerful to me, and the shock of the difference between seasons one and five only make it more so.

#hordak #horde prime #she ra