#my man you understand how shareholders work right

[disteal]

One of the craziest things abt photomatt is the extent of how much sensitive information he’s willing to share in a personal vent because did our CEO just publicly say the month he might stop investing in Tumblr if people don’t stop being mean to him?

#this isn’t super important #there’s like a lot to unpack in his most recent posts #but in my business school brain that jumps out #my man you understand how shareholders work right #if i had shares in tumblr and i saw this i would be running for the hills #dis.txt

[sanzaibian]

I am Chris Albanese. Self-made billionaire, ravenous businessman and pussyhunter.

I am the best businessman to ever exist, the world basically belongs to me. If someone doesn’t act like I want them to, I can pay them off, pay someone to off them, or do it the old fashion way by wielding my fists.

You see, I used to be a sportsman. A boxer, to be precise. However, unlike my dimwitted adversaries, I knew how to use that to my advantage. I used sports as a way to gain some quick bucks and gain fame, and when finally a business venture extracting lithium in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, I jumped on it and finally ended that dumb career hitting people for other’s excitement.

However, it’s not as if everything was smooth sailing…

Today was a very bad day. It started with a demonstration in front of my building, with those wokes saying that I am complacent in the bloody civil war in the DRC. I mean, I don’t care about those Congolese, I’m just extracting lithium and selling it at high prices ! Those wokes will always find a reason to hate hard-working people.

But after that, I got complaints that my employees are over-worked and under-payed, and that they threaten a strike ! I fired a few of those so it’s okay, but then I get told that the shareholders believe that I don’t take enough advantage of the electric vehicle boom, and that my management is unsatisfactory ! Don’t they understand that those “green politics” will just explode on their faces and that I’ll have to pay for “mismanagement” ? Those fuckers…

When I get home, I decide to call my pussy... I mean, my third wife, but let’s call things what they really are. I need to unwind a bit, after all.

When she comes to my penthouse, she goes off on me about how she was busy, and how I just call her when I want her but I’m never here when she wants me. Women, am I right ? So I just shut her up with a new Gucci bag, and start undressing. She watches me as I undo the buttons of my suit, revealing the manly coat of hair I possess. But as I fling my top across to the couch, she dares to tell me :

“You know, Chris, you gained a bit of weight since the last time we had fun… You should really start working out again, you know, like when you actually did sports.”

Although she was telling me that with a look of concern and of lust, my anger was so built up since the beginning of the day that I just went off on her.

“What, do you want me to be a moron that can only punch others ? That is better than the piece of hotness you have in front of you ? I’m rich, I’m powerful, I’m the best person in all of humankind, and this is what you tell me ? That I should be ‘taking care of myself’ ? I’m taking care of myself just fine !

- Chris, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that, I’m just worried for you…” I cut her.

- You wretched woman, don’t say lies, I know you’re just not happy with hunting just one guy ! You sluts are all the same ! You come here saying ‘oh no, I’m so busy buying clothes’ and ‘you should work out and do everything I say’ and expect me to do nothing ? To listen to your orders ? I’m fucking Chris Albanese ! The best man on Earth ! You fucking greedy slut, you’re fired !”

She looked at me with weird eyes, as if I said something that didn’t make sense.

“You… fire... me ? You- You know I’m your wife, not your employee !”

She looked at me with pleading eyes, trying to seduce me out of firing me. Sluts are all the same, I tell you !

“Well, you’ve heard me nice and clear, you’re fired ! And never dare cross my path again, else I sue you for harassment !”

Utterly bewildered, she took her things – including her new bag, that greedy bastard – and started going, when she told me, with a shaky voice :

“You’re going to regret this, Chris !”

And then, she slammed the door. Good riddance, I think, but that doesn’t get rid of my tension.

After scratching my head for a small while, I decide that the best course of action is to offer her the possibility to buy her position back with “actions”. Smiling, I go to the door to announce to her the good news, when I suddenly get a headache.

I stumble and take support on the kitchen counter. Where did that come from ? My head feels so bad, it might as well be about to explode ! What was I thinking about ? Yeah, something about a person I needed to meet with… but whom ?

Another ache, this time on my stomach. As I breathe in, I feel something working in my stomach, and as I breath out, I have the impression that my stomach goes farther than it used to.

It continues for a while as another ache, this time in my legs, hits. I feel weird cramps in them, as if I had just done leg day and was suffering through its consequences. I fall down harder, not able to support myself on my legs, but am able to break the fall with my arms.

Just as I do that, I feel my arms get those similar cramps, and I just fall flat, aching everywhere. As my eyes are on the same level as the floor, I notice that it seems a bit dirty. Has my maid not done a good job ? She’s fired ! ...

… Who’s fired ? I can’t quite remember… Ugh… I should really clean my floor, it’s so very dirty, a ton of dust, and a ton of sweat…

Sweat ? I look down at my expensive suit pants, and only find sweaty sweatpants… and hairless abs. They’re also quite sweaty… Yeah, makes sense, since I was working out just now ! … … What ?

I stand back up. What has just happened ? I don’t work out anymore, yet I’m convinced that I just finished working out. Plus I have the biggest headache, like I’m forgetting something important…

I pace around, my body aching less and less, and feeling more and more pumped up. I also feel my hairless face and body… I feel as if I’m missing something very important. Then, suddenly, it jumps out to me.

The coach ! I’m late for my next match !

I run through my dingy flat to take a track suit and run to the boxing club. On the way there, I feel as if something is intensely wrong. As if I’m not supposed to be in the boxing club, as if I’m not supposed to be in a dingy flat, as if I’m not supposed to be in a good shape… yet I can’t quite put my finger on it, still having that headache preventing me from thinking normally.

When I arrive, coach berates me as he leads me to the locker room to prepare myself. When I’m ready, I go to face off against my adversary.

When I enter the ring, young women cry of joy, and between them, I see a very beautiful one that seems weirdly familiar… but she’s not really my type, she’s too old for little young me.

Me and my adversary fight for a while until I’m put K.O., and as the referee starts counting. But as I try all I might to get up, I see my adversary on top of me, acting all dominantly. And then the most surreal thing happens.

I get a hard-on.

#male transformation #male tf #daddy to jock #jock tf #age reduction #dumber tf #straight to bi #straight to gay #transformation #tf story

[rowanaelinn]

Come and Play

This is… a little something 👀

Warnings: NSFW, and I know I’m never seeing god | Word Count: 1,900

If there was one thing Aelin Galathynius was certain about, was that she despised her boss. He was the definition of an asshole, always broody and never cracking up a smile or compliment. Not only that, but he was also annoyingly smart, in a way that made him able to keep up with her snark which made him ten times more annoying.

He always demanded more of her: more dedications, more hours, more availability.

He wasn’t a bad guy per see. He’d given her all her days off and half of his when her uncle had died last yar. She’d tried to thank him then, but he just waved it off, telling her to come back rested to work.

“What was the verdict of the Archeron case?” He asked her as she sipped from her steaming cup of coffee which she’d just poured. It was what she did on her break, but Rowan Whitethorn didn’t seem to understand what a break was.

Ten years her senior, he had founded Cadre Law Firm with his best friend, Lorcan Salvaterre, straight out of law school. Now years later, it was one of the most prestigious firms of the country.

They’d hired her five years ago, and she’d just become Senior Associate less than a year ago. A promotion that her boss had announced to her with a blank face, before giving her three more cases to work on.

She believed he was allergic to happiness.

“It’s all over the news,” she answered, shrugging and sipping from her cup again.

“And I’m asking you, her lawyer who was at the trial. Excuse me for thinking you’d be more reliable than those gossip magazines.”

She rolled her eyes, such dramatics. Aelin’s client, Feyre Archeron, was one of the most famous actresses in the world right now, and the moment she stepped foot in their firm, Aelin had fought teeth and nails to get the case.

It hadn’t been an easy fight; she was only a Senior Associate and compared to the five Partners and the two Shareholders, and yet Aelin had won it.

“The bastard is going to rot in jail for ten years with no reduction possible, then is forbidden to get less than fifty yards away from Miss Archeron.”

He nodded, taking in the verdict. She’d just come back from court, and even if there had been a lot of evidence against Tamlin Spring’s abusive ass, it had been a hard fight to make the justice system actually work in favor of the victim.

Her boss’s arms were crossed, and she turned her gaze away when she realized she was staring at the way his suit fitted his body, at the muscles it showed off. Gods, wasn’t he uncomfortable in such tight clothes? Not that she was better with her pencil skirts, but how could she not wear those when they made her ass look so fabulous? Maybe he wore those suits for the same reason, because inside he was as vain as she was. At least she didn’t hide it, she had her reasons to love herself so much.

Through, as she threw another look toward the silver-haired man while he watched his watch, she supposed that if he had his reasons, too. This was the more irritating part of this whole thing: he was attractive.

And not attractive in the way that would have her take a mental note and then forget about it if she were to cross his path on the street.

No, he was enticing enough to follow her to her deepest dreams. She hated this; and pushing her hate onto something so vague seemed useless, so she decided to hate him instead. It was easier, and quite fun if she was being honest.

“Decent work,” he said, and on his way to leave he added, “I want all the paperwork related to that case on my desk before midnight.”

He was gone before she could protest or even complain, but it didn’t stop her from spitting an insult directed at him. She didn’t have to fill all the paperwork now; she knew for a fact that other associates weren’t asked for such heavy work under such short delayed. No, the asshole just hated her probably as much as she hated him.

Great, her break was ruined now. He’d make her life hell if she didn’t do this, he’d drown her under work. She’d be at the office until late, which was a bummer.

She rolled her shoulders, feeling how tense she was. She needed to relax a little, and she had just the right idea in mind to relieve some tension.

Biting on a croissant and standing, she typed a text on her phone to Dorian. He was her boyfriend, in a way. He technically was doing all the things a boyfriend did, he slept over at her place most of the times, took her out for dinner and other dates. Hell, she’d even met his dad.

And he was alright, and good at sex which was why she was texting him on her way to her office. But it wasn’t passionate. And she was pretty sure he wasn’t in love with her, and neither was she. It seemed like the perfect situationship she could ask for. She was too busy for an actual boyfriend anyway.

She grinned when he texted her back he’d wait for her at his place at ten in the evening. That was finally something to look for. She’d kicked ass these past few days in court, and she really deserved a good reward for it.

--

“Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what’s got you so tense?”

“No, shut up and get naked,” she whispered, pushing his jacket off his shoulders. It was late, and she needed the kind of high only a good orgasm would give her. He chuckled, unbuttoning her shirt. Gods, she wished he’d just rip it.

She believed it was the difference between good sex and amazing sex. The roughness, the words whispered or shouted. Not that she complained about the sex Dorian gave her, an orgasm was an orgasm. A guy knowing how to make a woman come was rare enough, she wouldn’t waste time being picky.

“How do you want me?” She breathed once his shirt was off, her hands undoing his pants buttons. He broke the kiss, panting and smiling.

“On top.”

She smirked, pushing him onto the bed after he got rid of his pants and underpants. She threw a condom at him as she got rid of the few articles of clothing she still had on. He sat on the bed, hands on her lips and he kissed her navel, his hand making its way between her legs.

Her hands shot for his shoulder, holding herself steady as he drew moans out of her. She closed her eyes, throwing her head back. She imagined that the kisses laid on her stomach were bites, that the fingers inside of her would be going faster, deeper and harder.

She needed more, needed more than just fingers. She pushed on his shoulders, having him lay on the bed. His fingers left her, and she opened the condom and rolled it over his cock. She hoovered over him, and sunk down unto him, not in the mood for teasing.

Her nails broke the skin of his chest as she moaned at the stretch. She started moving quickly, desperating searching that high she thought about the whole day. Dorian started thrusting up, their hips meeting.

His hands grabbed, caressed and touched every place of her body, and yet as she broke it didn’t feel enough. Her orgasm didn’t fulfill her the way she wanted it to, and even as she climaxed, she wanted more. Because then, maybe she’d feel satisfied.

She sat on his hips, sinking deeper and started rolling her hips, tearing moans out of both their lips.

“Fuck!” she cried as her phone started ringing, just as Dorian grabbed her hips and helped her fuck herself on him. One look at her phone had her groaning.

“Don’t pick up,” the man under her panted.

But that wasn’t an option, not when that asshole boss of her called her. She whispered in his ear, “Keep going.” And then grabbed the phone, answering the goddamn call.

“What do you want?” She asked, her voice was enough to make him understand that he was bothering her.

Dorian, under her, hesitated for a few seconds but then grinned, deciding to go along with it. She’d just tell Whitethorn to fuck off, so she could get fucked in peace.

“Half of those instruments are badly written Galathynius, is it the kind of professionalism you put into your work? If so, we might have to reconsider your place in this firm.”

The bastard. He’d called her one minute past midnight just so he could insult her.

She couldn’t explain the rush than ran down her veins; couldn’t explain why she didn’t just hang up.

“If you-“ She bit her lip, holding in a moan as Dorian hit deep inside of her. “If you wanted a show, you should have come to the courthouse.”

“As if I had time to watch you play.”

She chuckled, out of breath. She closed her eyes, praying he wouldn’t hear the noises of body coming together. “T-too bad for you. I’m very good at playing.”

There was a long silence before he asked, “Where are you?”

She bit on her free hand, brow furrowed. She took a deep breath, “Gym, why? Want to come insult me there?”

“Insult?” He nearly sneered. “I just don’t stand for half-assed jobs when it put the reputation of what I’ve spent my life working on in peril.”

She hated him. Hated him so, so much. So much that his words had her clench around another man’s cock. “I won.”

“And yet you still show up the firm barely on time, you install non-professional relationships with your clients without mentioning how you walk through those goddamn walls as if you didn’t still have everything to learn. This is your problem, Galathynius, you refuse to learn, and it makes you so infuriat—”

“Oh, Gods, Rowan!” She screamed as Dorian hit deeper inside of her, and she fell over the edge a second time.

This orgasm lasted for what felt like hours, waves of pleasing hitting her over and over again, making it impossible to breath correctly. She might have been screaming the whole time, too. She wasn’t aware of anything other than the way her muscles relaxed, the feeling of numbness spreading through her veins.

It might have been seconds, minutes or hours when she regained consciousness. Only then, she realized that Dorian wasn’t moving anymore. She looked up, only to find him looking horrified, eyes on her phone which had fallen on the side of his head.

She rushed to grab it, only to realize she hadn’t hung up.

He’d heard her come.

And he’d heard her scream his name as she did.

She hit the red button, ending the phone call, and fell on the side of Dorian. She groaned, head in her hands.

She was so, so screwed.

••••••

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @elentiyawhitethorn // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy // @danibutterr // @endlessdaydream // @thegreyj // @gracie-rosee // @acreativelydifferentlove // @cretaceous-therapod // @louphantomdragon // @mis-lil-red // @backtobl4ck // @whoever-you-choose-to-love // @lemonade-coolattas // @mad-madeline-ace // @the-introverted-bibliophile // @leiawritesstories // @emilyoftheshadows // @anniesbookshelf // @rainbowcheetah512 // @astra-ad-mare // @story-scribbler // @superspiritfestival // @wordsafterhours // @rowaelinrambling // @black-daisy-water // @fireheart-violet // @livsdriverslicense // @charlizeed // @ladykreads // @mariamuses // @autumnbabylon // @justreadertings // @highqueenofelfhame // @earthtolinds // @bowdawn

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #throne of glass fanfiction #aelin galathynius #rowaelin smut #throne of glass #rowan and aelin #rowan and aelin smut #throne of glass smut

[psychopath2006]

Everything I need is love

Summary - You are a very professional and workaholic person but suddenly you meet Min Yoongi and slowly hate change into love .

Pairing : Suga X Reader

You were now 28 still single and unmarried, your friends were already married but you were so workaholic that not even a single boy was interested in you.

You belong to a rich family who were having their own business. From childhood you wanted to handle the business but people used to demotivate you but your father never. When you turned 17 you went abroad for further business studies and for spreading your business in western countries from the last 11 years you were abroad .

You have a young brother who was helping your father in Korea. You were not an introvert but you don't like to talk to people for no reason. Many of your friends left you at a young age, even your own mother can't understand you. Which made you cold .

One day while scrolling through the internet you found a post which was telling about your brother Park Jimin's marriage.You were clueless You were not having any information about it . So you planned a Korean trip next week.

The day when you were going to arrive Jimin was not feeling well so he let his wife handle the office for a day . Some employees did fake drama and took the day off. Jimin's wife was so kind she gave half day to the office.

When you arrived in Korea you thought about going to the office first but you saw employees roaming here and there "Why are you all here I don't think today is a holiday." You shouted. You entered the office and saw an unknown person sitting in the cabin. Even Jimin's wife was clueless. She did not know that you are an older daughter of their family.

Mr. Kim bowed (he was P.A. of Jimin)you asked "why were employees roaming instead of doing work?" "Mam Jimin's wife gave them a holiday" he replied . Anger was seen on your face "Mam pls calm down today Mr. Min is going to visit " said Mr. Kim. Mr. Min was your dad's friend and your shareholder.

After some time a young handsome man appeared . You asked him to give his identity. With swag he said " I am Mr. Min's son and many girls are behind me but still I can be your babygirl" after listening to this you were frustrated but still you greeted him with a smile . After some time he left and you go to your home. After arriving only your dad greeted you properly. You went to your room and asked Jimin's wife to come in when she arrived You said " Your Jimin's wife right? , you are such an unprofessional bitch, if you don't know how this office runs pls don't come to the office, even though after marriage you might be getting much money from my brother right, then just take that money and do your own useless business." You didn't want to be that harsh but you hate when someone is not professional.

Jimin's wife held her tears and ran away. You felt bad for hurting her. It was dinner time Everyone was sitting on the dining table. Jimin broke silence by saying "How dare you hurt my wife, she is everything for me." "But for me our business is everything. Just ask your lovely wife what she did today." After hearing the raise in your voice your mom slapped you. Without showing any emotions you were about to go towards your room suddenly the doorbell rang. When you opened the door you saw Mr. Min and his son, you greeted them and called them inside. Mr. Min said to your dad " My son is not at all serious about our company. Can I leave him here for a month so that he will learn something from your daughter?" Dad agreed without thinking twice.Mr. Min greeted and left.

Yoongi : We know each other still I will introduce my self , I am min Yoongi.

You : Good to know.

Yoongi : Let's start lessons from now.

You : Not today, you should be ready at 8 AM tomorrow.

Yoongi: Yes my lady .

Without showing any emotions you went to your room and busted in tears .

"Can I use your washroom?" Yoongi said while entering. He saw you crying "Are you ok ? What happened?"" None of your business " you replied."You can share it with me" Yoongi said."NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS " ,You shouted while continuously crying . Yoongi hugged you without thinking twice you hugged him back . At this moment he realised you all you need is some love .You slept in his arms.

The next morning while leaving Yoongi bought some flowers for you which made you smile a bit. "One girl looks so beautiful when she smiles." Your dad said . "C'mon dad" You said and leave .

Employees: good morning mam

You: Good morning (with a cold face)

Yoongi: You greet your employees like this .

You: Then how should I ?

Yoongi: Let me show you .

Yoongi: Good morning everyone (cheerfully)

You entered the cabin

Yoongi: It's 4 Pm I'm leaving

You : Ok I will be after some time

At home

"Uncle Park I want to speak to you" Yoongi said "Why don't you love her, all she needs right now is love , No one leaving you treat her properly , she doesn't show that she is craving for it ." His eyes got wet and he just left . He prepared Ramen for you, you were impressed.

You asked him whether you can share something with him. He nodded . " I just can't take it anymore, I'm tired of this life no one is there , everyone takes me for granted, my life is a mess , I just feel like dying" you cried your heart out . He hugged you tightly and was trying to calm you down. You felt too good , you felt someone was listening to me and there is someone by my side .

After some days you finally got a friend you started having feelings for him you were afraid of confessing your feelings. Yoongi knew that you have feelings for him but he wanted you to confess.

???: Yoongi oppaaaa

Someone shouted and hugged Yoongi tightly.

Yoongi was going to push her aside but he got an idea . He hugged her back .You were unable to hold your tears so you rushed to the washroom.

Then you came back she was Yoongi's childhood friend. She was telling me how they used to play. She told me they promised to marry each other in future, I fake smilled but my blood was boiling.

At night

Yoongi called you and asked to watch movies. "Go and watch with your childhood friend" you said with jealousy.

Next day

Childhood friend: Yoongi oppaaaa

She was going to hug him but you stopped

You : whats your problem girl why do you need to be clingy with my man.

Everyone's eyes got widened

You : And you Mr. Yoongi first you comforted me , gave me hope that I can be loved , Made me fall for you and now you want to be with your childhood friend....

Before you could complete he placed his lips on your this was your first kiss you kissed him back .

Yoongi: I love you more than anything.

You : Love you too

Happy ending 🎉

#suga #bts #fanfic #kpop #bts suga #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #suga x you #suga x reader #min yoongi

[thornyrose463]

Exposed (Cobra Kai story): Chapter 6

At the airport, Terry greeted Kim Da-Eun, the granddaughter of Master Kim Sun-Yung, who had brought along some of the best instructors from her dojang at his request. “Sensei Kim Da-Eun. Welcome to the Valley. How was your flight?”

“Last minute. Is Sensei Kreese not with you?” Kim asked.

“I'm afraid John Kreese is no longer with Cobra Kai. He had some legal troubles.” Terry said.

“That is disappointing to hear. You asked me to bring the best senseis my dojang had to offer. I have done so.” Kim said.

“You must be exhausted from your trip. There are refreshments in the limo.” Terry said.

Terry led Kim and the other senseis to a limo.

“Limousines and private planes. This sort of extravagance might impress your former shareholders, but it does not hold sway for me.” Kim said.

“That attitude is exactly why I wanted you to teach at my dojos. I need you to see which of my students are ready to take the next step. I'm offering you full autonomy to test my students your way. Just one of the many perks you'll have as my business partner in Cobra Kai.” Terry said.

“Your offer is very tempting, but I did not get on the plane for money.” Kim said.

“50 percent is just a number. What I'm offering you is legacy. Your grandfather didn't teach American soldiers the Way of the Fist just to use on the battlefield. We have to share his style with the world.” Terry responded.

“And you think your American students are up to the task?” Kim asked.

“I do.” Terry said.

“We shall see.” Kim responded.

Everyone got in the limo.

The limo drove down the road.

Amanda, Chozen, and Johnny were sitting at the LaRusso family’s kitchen table.

Sam was standing in front of the counter, pouring milk into a bowl of cereal.

“It has been a week. The longer we wait...” Johnny trailed off.

Chozen spoke. “We must let Daniel-san heal.”

“Chozen's right. I want to do something too, but we can't just go after Silver without…” Amanda trailed off.

Daniel walked into the kitchen.

Sam spoke in a surprised voice. “Dad.” 

Daniel’s eyes landed on Johnny.

"Johnny, what are you doing here?" Daniel asked.

"Figuring out how to make Silver pay for what he did to you." Johnny said.

"What's with the suit?" Amanda asked.

Daniel sighed. "I can't wear my pajamas to LaRusso Auto, can I?"

"You're going to work?" Amanda asked.

“Daniel-san, we need to make plans...” Chozen trailed off.

“Guys, I appreciate the sentiment. I do. But I'm out of this thing with Silver. If he wants the Valley, he can have it. I'm done with karate.” Daniel said.

“What do you mean you're done with karate?” Johnny asked.

“Must not give up.” Chozen told Daniel.

“I am giving up. Trying to go toe-to-toe with Silver was a mistake. It almost cost me my family. I'm not making that mistake again.” Daniel said.

“Daniel, we're with you.” Amanda said. “You don't have to stop fighting.”

“Yes, I do. I became a sensei to help kids. Instead, I'm making everyone's lives worse.” Daniel said.

“What are you talking about, man? You did help kids.” Johnny said.

“Want me to make a list of how many ways they're hurting because of this, including my daughter? Ask Robby how much I've helped him.” Daniel responded.

Johnny sighed.

“You know, growing up, I never understood why Mr. Miyagi walked away from a fight. But I understand now. It's not our job to fight the monsters of the world. Not anymore.” Daniel said.

Daniel walked away.

A police officer led Tory to the visitation room at the prison. “Kreese, your granddaughter's here.”

Tory sat across from Kreese. "Hi, Grandpa."

“Hi, granddaughter. How'd our little sting pan out?” Kreese asked.

“Not the way we hoped. Sensei Silver didn't even bat an eye. He has just been focused on expanding the dojos.” Tory said.

“That's unfortunate. Is there something else?” Kreese asked.

“Yeah. Mr. LaRusso got hurt because of us.” Tory said. 

Kreese chuckled. “Well, that's one enemy gone. When I get out of here, I'll take care of the other.”

“You don't care about what happened?” Tory asked.

“He was a means to an end.” Kreese said.  

“Is that what I am?” Tory asked.

“Of course not. You and I are the only ones who can trust each other.” Kreese said.

“How much longer do I have to stay at the dojo?” Tory asked.

“I know how difficult it is to be behind enemy lines, but I need you there for a little longer. I’ve got a plan to get out of this place.” Kreese said.

“You do?” Tory asked.

“Yeah. I'm going to play the good soldier, which is what I need you to do. So, do whatever Silver says, but keep your eyes and ears open. Now, he's smart, but he'll slip. And that will be the opening we need. Can you handle that?” Kreese asked.

“Yes, Sensei.” Tory said.

“Good.” Kreese said.

With Eagle Fang having closed, Devon had joined Topanga Karate. She was shocked when Terry and his entourage entered the dojo unannounced. After greeting Terry, Sensei Rosenthal informed his students that the dojo was now under new management. He was taken aback when Terry replaced him with Kim and Hyan-Woo. He argued that this was not part of the deal. Terry ignored him and addressed the Topanga students, claiming their new leadership would mold them into winners. As the Topanga students assimilated into Cobra Kai, Terry started to leave with Tory, but Kim insisted that she stay, intending to use her to test the Topanga students.

Johnny was shocked that Daniel would surrender so easily. “I don't get it. ‘No be there’ is one thing, but LaRusso letting Silver win?”

“That walking oil spill got into Daniel's head in a way I didn't think was possible. He'll come around. He just needs time.” Amanda said.

“Do not have much time. Silver's empire growing every day.” Chozen said.

“Sure, but…” Amanda paused. “I mean, the Valley only has so many kids. How many new dojos can he open?”

“He's not just opening new ones. He's taking over other dojos now too.” Sam said.

Sam pulled out her cell phone and showed Amanda, Chozen, and Johnny a video of Terry’s takeover of Topanga Karate.

“When did this happen?” Johnny asked.

“It's live. It's happening now.” Sam said.

“Perfect. I'm going to go down there and beat his ponytailed ass.” Johnny said.

“You can't march there like a one-man army.” Amanda told Johnny.

“The hell I can't. Guy's whole M.O. is hiding in the dark, waiting for us to fall into his traps. Right now, we know where he is. He's not on his home turf.” Johnny said.

A modus operandi, commonly abbreviated as M.O., was a term used to describe an individual’s or group's usual way of doing something. It was a Latin term, roughly translated as “mode of operating.”

“Chozen, please say something to him.” Amanda pleaded.

“Amanda-san is right. One-man army not good.” Chozen said.

“Thank you.” Amanda said.

“I come with you.” Chozen said.

“That's not what I meant.” Amanda said.

“You do know this isn't some kata competition, right?” Johnny asked Chozen.

“Hai.” Chozen said.

“Is that a yes?” Johnny asked.

Chozen sighed.

“I don't understand how this is going to help Dad.” Sam said.

“I don't know, Sam. At this point, I'm not sure what will.” Amanda said.

At the prison, a group of inmates mocked Kreese about his age and stole his lunch. The leader of the group told Kreese that he would give him his Jell-O from now on.

Kreese was in a therapist’s office.

The therapist’s name was Emily Folsom.

Emily was holding a notebook and a pen.

“One thing that really surprised me was how easy it was to get along with all the other men.” Kreese said. 

“Is that so?” Emily asked.

Emily wrote something in her notebook.

“I didn't realize you were making friends in here.” Emily said.

“Yeah, well, I make friends pretty easily. I find that a little kindness goes a long way.” Kreese said. 

“Mmm. I'm happy to hear that you're doing well with the others. Not all prisoners your age have the same experience. They're usually easy targets.” Emily said.

Kreese chuckled. “Well, I'm made of stronger stuff. You could throw me right through a window, and I wouldn't even get a scratch. Emotionally speaking, of course.”

“Of course.” Emily said.

Emily glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Oh, looks like our time is up.” Emily said.

Kreese chuckled. “Oh, we were just getting into a groove. Well...Thanks, Doc. I really enjoy our time together.”

“Me too. You're not just sweet-talking me to get a good recommendation, are you?” Emily asked.

“Oh, of course not. I just find these sessions so very helpful.” Kreese lied.

At the Topanga dojo, Kim ordered the students to pair up and practice their knife-strikes. Devon found herself without a partner and had to practice her knife-strikes on a training dummy. When Tory walked by, Devon told her to keep walking. Tory observed her poor technique and told her she would break her hand if she hit someone like that. She showed Devon how to do a proper knife-strike. 

“Why are you in that gi? Don't think you have what it takes to join Cobra Kai?” Tory asked.

“I'm still deciding whether your dojo has what it takes to earn me.” Devon said.

“Guess you forgot who kicked your ass at the tournament.” Tory said.

Devon scoffed. “Please. That ref was blind. He gave you a point when I was out of bounds.”

“Why are you here?” Tory asked.

“My mom always said the only way you really lose is by giving up.” Devon said.

“Sounds smart.” Tory said.

“She was.” Devon said.

Tory was sympathetic. “I'm sorry.”

“For what? You didn't do anything. I'd love to kick cancer's ass, though.” Devon said.

“Yeah. I know how you feel. But you have to take all that anger and put it into your fist.” Tory told Devon.

Kim decided to end the exercise.

Kim yelled something in Korean. It translated to “Stop.”

“I have seen enough. You have used your strength to train each other. Now you will use your strength against each other. Nichols, get them ready.” Kim ordered.

Johnny and Chozen were in a parking lot.

Johnny was holding a bottle of beer. 

“You didn't have to come. I can handle this.” Johnny said.

“Not likely. Silver very dangerous.” Chozen said. 

“Yeah, I know. I'm ready for him. I can be dangerous too.” Johnny said.

Chozen chuckled. “Daniel-san told me how dangerous you can be.”

“Did he mention how I kicked his ass back in high school?” Johnny asked.

“I robbed him while he was on date.” Chozen said.

Johnny smirked. “Oh, yeah? I pushed him down a cliff.”

Johnny took a sip of his beer.

Chozen spoke dramatically. “I fight him to death!”

“Oh, yeah? What are you? A ghost or something?” Johnny asked.

Chozen chuckled.

“No. Daniel-san showed me mercy.” Chozen said.

“Yeah, sounds like LaRusso. Man, he was such a twerp back then.” Johnny said. 

“Real pain in ass. But he always fight for what he believe.” Chozen said.

“He never backed down from a fight, even when he should have. A few months ago, I saw him take on an entire hockey team. Five-on-one. He beat 'em all.” Johnny said.

“I saw him save young girl from typhoon.” Chozen said.

“He took a man down with a single strike to his pressure point.” Johnny said.

“Who do you think teach him that?” Chozen asked.

Johnny and Chozen arrived at the Topanga dojo.

“We're here.” Johnny said.

Through the window, Johnny saw Devon training alongside the Cobra Kai students.

“Devon? What the hell?” Johnny asked.

Johnny was about to walk into the dojo, but Chozen stopped him.

“What are you doing?” Chozen asked.

“One of my students is in there.” Johnny said.

“Not here for student. Here for Silver. Must wait for right time. Run into den of lions, you will get eaten.” Chozen said.

“Fine. We'll wait.” Johnny said.

At the prison, Kreese received a letter saying that his petition for early release had been denied.

Kreese walked into Emily’s office.

“Doc! I just got a letter from the warden. I think something went wrong with your recommendation.” Kreese said.

“Really? It felt accurate to me.” Emily said.

Kreese chuckled. “Yeah, but you're recommending against my petition for early release. Why? I thought we were making great strides.”

“John, cut the crap.” Emily told Kreese.

“Excuse me?” Kreese asked.

“You think this is my first day? I know the difference between a breakthrough and saying what I want to hear.” Emily said.

“I had no other option. The court assigned me some bullshit attorney who was in over his head.” Kreese said.

“If you want to get out early, you really need to think about why you're here in the first place. I'm free all morning tomorrow if you'd like to chat. That should be plenty of time for us to dig deep.” Emily said.

At the Topanga dojo, Kim devised a new exercise for Tory and Devon: placing a piece of bamboo on a table and telling Tory to use any means necessary to stop Devon from taking it. When Tory failed to do, Kim chastised her for holding back and demanded that she try again. Although Tory successfully thwarted each of Devon's attempts thereafter, Kim ordered her to strike Devon harder each time, ultimately leaving Devon crumpled on the mat. After Kim dismissed the class, Devon ran out of the dojo in humiliation.

A petulant Kreese was in Emily’s office. His arms were crossed.

Emily was sitting across from Kreese. She was holding her notebook and pen.

“All right, enough of this. You're sitting here sulking like a kid who got in trouble in class.” Emily said.

“What do you want me to do? Cry into a tissue?” Kreese retorted.

Emily spoke derisively. “I thought you were a sensei.”

“I am a sensei,” Kreese growled.

“Then act like one! Look, I'm not here to scold you. I'm here to help. I believe that deep down, you're a good man. I don't believe that you were always this violent a person.” Emily said.

Kreese was shocked that Emily called him a good man.

Emily transformed into Betsy.

Betsy was Kreese’s girlfriend before he was drafted for the Vietnam War.  

“I think something happened in your past,” Betsy said kindly.

Kreese was shocked to see Betsy. He leaned forward and spoke softly. “I did lose someone. Years ago.”

“Who was she?” Betsy asked.

Kreese smiled sadly. “The love of my life.”

“I'm sorry to hear that, John. Where were you when it happened?” Betsy asked.

Kreese frowned. “Overseas. Her death allowed me to do what I had to do.”

Betsy transformed into George Turner.

George Turner was Kreese’s commanding officer during the Vietnam War.

George sneered at Kreese. “Whatever it took to save yourself.”

“Don't judge me like those long-haired hippies. It was war!” Kreese yelled.

George looked at Kreese in disdain. “Oh, but that violence followed you home. I read your file. After Vietnam, you became a sensei, opened a dojo, taught kids how to fight.”

“I taught them to be strong! To take the anger they feel and turn it into power!” Kreese yelled.

George burst into laughter.

“I’ve had enough of this!” Kreese yelled.

Kreese got out of his chair and walked towards the door.

“What an interesting choice of words.”

Kreese turned around and saw that George had transformed into Terry.

“Take the anger they feel. Do you feel angry, John? At who?” Terry asked.

Kreese walked towards Terry.

“The people that put me in this cage!” Kreese yelled.

“But you did this to yourself.” Terry said.

Kreese leaned down and looked into Terry’s eyes.

“Don't be ridiculous. None of it is my fault. I did nothing wrong!” Kreese yelled.

Terry transformed into Tory.

“So, you don't feel any regret?” Tory sounded disappointed.

Kreese took a step back.

“Regret?” Kreese asked.

Kreese sat across from Tory.

Kreese appeared to be deep in thought. “Tell me…What exactly am I supposed to feel regret for?”

Tory transformed into a teenaged version of Johnny.

“The people you've hurt.” The teenaged version of Johnny said.

Because of his affection for Johnny, which was buried deep inside of him, Kreese appeared to regret his actions.

Kreese’s eyes were locked on the teenaged version of Johnny. The teenaged version of Johnny was looking at him in disappointment.

“I wasn't trying to hurt anyone. I was trying to make my students tough.” Kreese said.

The teenaged version of Johnny looked at Kreese scornfully. “You wanted them all to be like you.”

Kreese shook his head. “No. I wanted them all to be better than me.”

The teenaged version of Johnny transformed into present-day Johnny.

Present-day Johnny smiled, as if to say Kreese had a breakthrough.

Present-day Johnny transformed into Emily.

“I know you can be better than the person you've become. He's locked inside you. Somewhere deep.” Emily said.

Emily transformed into Kreese’s younger self.

Kreese’s younger self smiled. “You just have to find him.”

Kreese looked grateful for his breakthrough. He smiled at his younger self.

Johnny and Chozen walked into the Topanga dojo and found themselves pitted against Hyan-Woo. They struggled individually, but they managed to overcome Hyan-Woo together.

Kim arrived with the rest of the Cobra Kai senseis.

“Enough! You must be Chozen Toguchi. Far from your pathetic little island, aren't you? And I'm surprised to see Daniel LaRusso has healed from his injuries so quickly.” Kim said.

“What? I'm not Daniel LaRusso. I look nothing like him.” Johnny said.

“Silver must answer for what he has done,” Chozen growled.

“You bark like your blond dog.” Kim said.

“I do more than bark, trust me.” Johnny responded.

“You wish to fight?” Kim asked.

“Joon-bee.” Kim told the other Cobra Kai senseis.

The other Cobra Kai senseis stood with their fists by their sides.

Johnny appeared eager to continue the fight.

“Too much advantage. Their dojo. We fight when time is right.” Chozen told Johnny.

Johnny looked at Kim. “We're not going to let you take the Valley.”

“We already did.” Kim said.

“You think you did.” Johnny responded.

Chozen and Johnny walked out of the dojo.

Devon arrived at Cobra Kai’s flagship dojo. She was wearing a black long-sleeved gi with the Cobra Kai symbol on the back. She told Tory that she beat her on the mat but she only lost if she gave up. Terry informed Tory that Devon reached out to him after class the previous day and asked to join Cobra Kai, intending to learn more from Tory. 

“She failed the test. She ran away.” Tory said.

“The test was not for her. It was for you. I wanted to see how much strength you had in your heart to accomplish what you need to do.” Kim said.

“And what's that?” Tory asked.

“Something greater than you could ever imagine.” Terry said.

Amanda, Sam, Johnny, and Chozen were in the LaRusso family’s kitchen.

Chozen spoke. “It is obvious Silver has plan.”

Johnny spoke. “Now he has these international ringers. Son of a bitch refuses to fight fair.”

Chozen spoke. “All have trained under Silver's master, Kim Sun-Yung. I defeated six senseis from Valley by myself. It took two of us to stand against just one.”

Johnny spoke. “Still think we could have taken 'em. Give me nunchucks, and it's lights out.”

Amanda held up her hand. “Okay, let's take a breath before we start entertaining assault with deadly weapons. Chozen, you're still new around here, and no offense, Johnny, but strategy isn't exactly your forte. You're more of a...Blunt instrument.”

Johnny took Amanda’s words as a compliment. “Thank you.”

"If we're going to mount a resistance, we're going to need Daniel to lead it." Amanda said.

"You heard him. He clearly doesn't want to fight anymore." Johnny said.

"I thought I was done fighting too. But I was wrong. I thought the same as Dad. I felt like karate just made everything worse for everyone. I've even got the scars to prove it. But years from now, if my scars have faded, the lessons that I learned, Mr. Miyagi's lessons…” Sam paused. “They’ll be more powerful than the first time I put on a gi. Dad was right. Mr. Miyagi avoided a fight whenever possible. But he also fought when he had to. And if he were here right now, I think he would tell Dad that this a fight we can't walk away from."

"Well, Daniel may not have Mr. Miyagi to rely on anymore, but he has us." Amanda said.

At the prison, Kreese was reading in his cell. The door opened. The group of inmates who had mocked him for his age wanted their Jell-O cups. The leader of the group punched Kreese, knocking him down. Kreese stood up. He delivered a vicious beating to the group as the rest of the prisoners cheered him on. Having successfully taken back his power, he ordered the leader of the group to give him his Jell-O from now on.

Amanda parked her and Daniel’s car in front of Mr. Miyagi’s house.

"What are we doing here? I thought we were heading home." Daniel said.

"Uh, we just have to make a quick stop." Amanda unbuckled her seatbelt. "Come on."

Daniel sighed before unbuckling his seatbelt and following Amanda into the house.

Amanda led Daniel to Mr. Miyagi’s room.

"Amanda, I can't go in there." Daniel said.

Amanda rubbed Daniel’s arm. “Hey. It's okay. You're hurting right now. But I want you to heal. And I'm right here.”

Daniel sighed.

Daniel walked into the room. Amanda followed him.

"It's like a time capsule in here." Daniel said.

"The night before we got married, I was so nervous. I came here to see Mr. Miyagi. He sat down, poured me a cup of tea…And some saké." Amanda said.

Saké was an alcoholic beverage of Japanese origin made by fermenting rice that had been polished to remove the bran.

Daniel chuckled.

"And we talked about you. He loved you so much, Daniel. He said, 'Amanda-san, in life, always easier to hide head in sand.' He told me you could be a bit of a handful sometimes. That you would always fight for what you believed in. And there was nothing you believed in more than your family and friends. And what I believe in now is standing up to Terry Silver. It's the right thing to do for you, for me, for our family. Sorry it took me so long to realize." Amanda said.

"That means the world to me, Amanda. But what if standing up to Sliver just make things worse again? Every time I try to fight for what's right, somebody gets hurt. I can't fail these kids again." Daniel said.

Robby and Sam walked into the room.

"You didn't fail me. Sam and my dad told me and Sarah what was going on. You know, when you met me, I was a messed up kid. But you gave me a job. And a home. And a purpose. You can't just give up.” Robby told Daniel.

Amanda walked out of the room.

Daniel walked towards Robby and Sam.

“Robby, the things I did…Juvie…I was…I was just trying to help you.” Daniel said.

"No, I'm…I'm sorry. I should have listened to you about Cobra Kai. But I didn't understand until I started mentoring someone myself. Now Silver has a hold on this kid. There are some others in there I care about too…And…Uh, we need to stop Cobra Kai. But we can't do it without you, Sensei." Robby said.

Daniel and Robby chuckled.

"Dad, not everyone has someone like you to protect them and teach them. It's time that all of us join this fight." Sam said.

"All of us?" Daniel asked.

Sam and Robby led Daniel to the backyard. Daniel’s eyes landed on the Miyagi-Do students, the Eagle Fang students, Amanda, Johnny, and Chozen.

"You're not alone anymore." Sam said.

"So, what do you say, Mr. LaRusso? Will you fight?" Sarah asked.

Sarah was wearing a red t-shirt with horizontal white stripes, light blue denim jeans, and red low-top Vans sneakers with white laces. Her naturally straight blonde hair was down. She had on a light amount of black eyeliner, a light amount of black mascara, and soft brown eyeshadow. Her lip balm was a pretty peach colour.

Daniel glanced at Amanda, the Miyagi-Do students, and the Eagle Fang students. Amanda, the Miyagi-Do students, and the Eagle Fang students bowed. Daniel looked at Johnny and Chozen, who nodded. Daniel, Johnny, and Chozen bowed.

#fanfiction

[laurarest63]

The Friend Crush: Is It Love Or Friendship

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[jaylaxies]

WORK FOR IT

PAIRING : dom!secretary!heeseung x ceo!fem!reader

GENRE : smut, oral (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, angry sex, jealousy, uses of nicknames (doll), office sex, mentions of laziness, lack of professionalism, boss secretary relationship, making hee work to prove that he's not lazy.

WC : 2k words

SYNOPSIS : lee heeseung is probably the laziest person you've ever come across, and coincidentally, he's also your personal assistant. to get him to work, you pull out the you're fired card, that's when he shows you how efficient he actually is.

WARNING : 18+ content, minors dni.

A/N : hihi! i'm back with a hee fic! all likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! i love to get feedback from y'all <3

this fic is a part of collaboration with @enhoesnetwork for the theme: 7 deadly sins, my topic being 'sloth', i hope you guys enjoy it! <3

"he's late, again." your voice boomed inside your empty office, complaining to no one in particular. it was important day for your company, a meeting with your potential future shareholders at that. the problem? your secretary was nowhere to be found during the meeting. meaning: the presentation lacked a myriad of important information, the information that your secretary had in the files he kept 'safe' with him.

that was your last straw. lacking in his work? fine to some extent, everyone needs to rest but, missing out on important days as such today wasn't and will never be acceptable to you or to your company.

"i found him in the bar all drunk and wasted, ms. l/n." park jay had told you when lee heeseung had taken an off for his apparent 'bad fever' which wasn't fever at all. you let it slide once.

and then, it went on, "he forgot the files at home.", "he slept during the meeting.", "he showed up in the wrong attire.", "he forgot to send in refreshment meals.", and you've had enough.

being a secretary was a job that specially required people who are diligent, enthusiastic and zealous. your secretary on the other hand, was on the verge of getting fired for being the opposite.

yes, the staff loved him. his lazy smile, his nonchalant attitude, his attractive face and melodious voice. but is that what it takes to be working at a top tier company? no.

you once heard your employees betting that heeseung came to work only to see you, that he wanted to get in your pants, or skirt since that was your work attire. they may have been right. you never missed the longing stares he sent your way, or the slight brushing of your fingers together as he handed over the file. he, indeed, wanted to fuck you. the flirty comments proving it further.

yes, you admit that he was a fine specimen to look at and maybe to go a base up or two. but workplace rules said otherwise and maintaining your sanity then became your topmost priority. you didn't want a big article on the news saying: ceo found fucking his sectary during the work hours. no, absolutely not.

a sudden slam of door broke your train of thoughts. lee heeseung, the man himself, stood there panting, as if he ran all the way towards the office, his face morphed into that of a horrific one. he knew.

"i'm so sorry, ms. l/n, i–i didn't mean to be late–"

"you're fired." your tone was calm, collected, everything opposite to what heeseung seemed in front of you.

his eyes went wider, wider than his usual big doe ones. he shook his head firmly, trying to understand the depth of the situation. he needed this job.

"mr. park will be your replacement." you finalized as heeseung stared at your red lips.

"please give me another chance, ms. l/n, i promise i'll work harder and better." he announced oozing sudden confidence.

you looked up at him, finally taking his appearance in. hair disheveled, tie barely in its place, specs perched on his nose, shirt sleeves rolled up and breathing rigged. after a second of scanning him, you bore eyes into his.

"work for it then, mr. lee." you suggested.

he raised an eyebrow, taking a step further, still unsure, "how can i work, ms. l/n?"

"work hard, mr. lee, show me that you deserve to be my secretary and not mr. park." you urged him.

another step forward.

"show me that you're worthy enough to be here, working with me."

another step. his tall, slender frame towered over yours. your gaze challenging him further. his big hands grabbed your waist, his face inches away from yours, and placed you on your desk. the intensity of the gaze only increasing as he spread open your legs, standing in between them. his clothed crotch area touching yours, making you gasp lowly.

he bent down to come to your level, "i'll show you what im capable of, ma'am."

you bit your lip as heeseung attacked your neck with kisses, slow and agonizing at pace. "is that hard working, heeseung?" you had never called him his name before. not once. it rolled off your tongue perfectly. he decided he wanted to hear more of it, and so he would.

the soft kisses soon turned into harsher ones, the kind to leave marks behind by the next day. his large hands holding you in your place as you lost yourself in the pleasure he was willing to provide. your hand on his broad shoulder to support you further.

he unbuttoned the two buttons of your blouse, your matching lace bra on display along with your tempting cleavage. he stared at it, licking his lips before diving right to fondle with your breasts, fully removing the blouse along with the bra in the process.

the lights were dim, the curtains closed, yet heeseung's face shone brightly as he expertly licked your sensitive bud while massaged the other boob. the sensation heightening as his hand moved south to rub your clothed clit. you sucked in a deep breath, feeling his big fingers circling you expertly, you wanted them inside you.

"heeseung–" that made him speed up further, pushing your panties aside and rubbing on your slick wet cunt.

you threw your head back as his slender finger entered you, curling inside you. a mess, that's what you looked like now while he worked with expertise on you. soon, another digit was added, hitting you deep in your g-spot as his mouth sucked soon to be hickeys on your clavicle.

he then kissed you, rough yet soft, haste and passionate, like he had mastered this particular art of kissing. you gasped into his mouth as he added his third finger, stretching you out good. his pace never slowed down, even for a second. his mind telling him to keep going on. why? cause he's hardworking. not lazy, not slow, only hardworking and passionate.

"still wanna fire me, doll?" a cocky grin plastered onto his perfectly sculpted face.

the door wasn't locked, anyone could just walk in on you two doing the deed yet you didn't mind, your mind was foggy as heeseung serenaded your lips. with a bite on your lower lip, he pulled away, a string a saliva still connecting you both. he worked further, getting down on his knees to replace his fingers with his tongue.

his grip on your thighs tight enough to leave bruised handprints later, he left butterfly kisses all over your inner thighs, your breathing rigged and shaky now. you moaned his name as you felt his mouth against your core, licking and sucking on your sensitive bundle of nerves. you hand guiding his head as you gripped his already messy hair.

he groaned against your cunt, sending shivers all over your body. you've been eaten out before, but never this good, it felt as if all your senses had heightened up to max.

his perfectly sharp nose brushed against your clit as he continued to please you. the stimulation too much for you to hold in, your climax building up with him inserting his tongue to fuck you. he didn't allow down, not for a second. he loved this too much.

'lee heeseung' the only name on your mind, it's like you had forgotten the existence of other beings all at once. and so you screamed his name as you came all over his pretty mouth, legs trembling.

"good girl." he praised, before licking your juices clean, humming for, he loved how you tasted, how he wanted to taste you for so long. dreaming about tasting your boss was one thing, implementing it? a whole new level.

your sheer blouses, skirts that hugged your figure perfectly, and that red lipstick. he wanted to ruin you since the day he started working here, he didn't know his laziness would get him here though.

his voice sent your brain into a frenzy. deep yet melodious. the one with authority dripping off it. he didn't waste a second before picking you up and throwing you on the couch, a gasp leaving your mouth at the impact. he pulled your skirt down along with your panties and leaned back to look at you.

hair a mess, chest rising up and down, fully bare with nothing but your pencil heels on. he smirked, biting his lips and whistling lowly.

"tell me, ms. y/n." another boundary broken, he called you your name. "am i not hard-working?' he feigned hurt, loosening his tie and unbuckling the belt, finally letting the pant fall down to show that he, indeed, was hard.

"heeseung–" you started but were interrupted with him rubbing his now fully free cock on your still sensitive core, his mouth near your ear, the sound of his breathing causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

"can mr. park do this?" his tip was now placed at your entrance, slowly and barely sliding in. his soft hair fell near your shoulder, softy brushing, tickling your bare skin.

"n–no, he cannot–" you were yet again interrupted as heeseung pushed his dick inside you, filling you up as whole.

you had no clue how you were able to accommodate his size, large veiny dick all inside you, stretching you out pleasurably. without further delay, he started fucking you into the couch. each stroke powerful and proving a point. soft whimpers leaving your mouth as you clenched around his thick cock.

"y/n." heeseung groaned near your ear, your back arched with pleasure as he fondled your breasts with need. he was angry and had a pretty human to fuck, someone who he wanted for a long time.

he put your leg on his shoulder, giving him more access to fuck you. his thrusts now sloppy and strong. you cried as your felt another knot in your stomach, your nails scratched his back, marking him in a way.

"louder, i want everyone to hear you." he ordered with a raspy voice, his own dick twitching inside you. as he pulled out and switched you to be on your fours, ass up.

breathy moans left you both as he entered you again, slamming into you faster than before. only if the walls weren't soundproof, the whole building would've definitely heard you both. he grabbed your ass to support you further, not stopping once in the process.

"heeseung please." you were too close.

"go on, doll, cream my cock." and you did, gasping for air as he kept ramming into you for his release.

he pulled out and spilled all over your back, moaning your name in the process. after a breath or two, he grabbed your chin.

"go and ask jay if he can work this hard and you'll see for yourself, miss." his face so close, as he whispered against your lips.

he pecked you once, harshly at that, before cleaning you and helping you dress up and asking you if you're alright, demeanour fully changing. a knock at the door pulled you back to reality as jay entered the room, confused about heeseung still being here.

"mr. lee will continue working as my secretary, i'm sorry mr. park." you announced and jay turned to see heeseung smirking without any shame, rather, throwing daggers from his eyes at him for being the snobby complaining snitch.

"but, ms. l/n–" jay started, your still slightly smudged lipstick telling him exactly what went down between you two.

"did i not make myself clear, mr. park?" you lift up your eyebrow. and he sighed.

"yes ma'am." was all he said, gritting his teeth, before storming off the office, angry.

"shall we continue working then, ms. l/n?"

little did he know that the next time he'll lack/laze around, he won't be the one proving himself but, he'll be the one who'll get punished instead.

"we shall, mr. lee."

taglist : @en-cityzen @iamhae @sunghoonsworld @itsmeelily @softforqiankun @ye0njunzp1xie @solovelylovelyz @eunoia-kth @lix-freckle3 @woniebae @baekhyunstruly @heenotes @sungniverse @shinramyeonz

PERMANENT TAGLIST OPEN!

© jaylaxies

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen #enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen scenarios #enhypen hyung line #enhypen imagines #kpop smut #lee heeseung #heeseung smut #enhypen lee heeseung #enhypen heeseung #enhypen heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #heeseung suggestive #jay smut #park jay smut #dom!heeseung #sub!reader #enhoesnet #heeseung x fem reader #heeseung x you #enhypen suggestive

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Facebook thrives on criticism of "disinformation"

The mainstream critique of Facebook is surprisingly compatible with Facebook’s own narrative about its products. FB critics say that the company’s machine learning and data-gathering slides disinformation past users’ critical faculties, poisoning their minds.

Meanwhile, Facebook itself tells advertisers that it can use data and machine learning to slide past users’ critical faculties, convincing them to buy stuff.

In other words, the mainline of Facebook critics start from the presumption that FB is a really good product and that advertisers are definitely getting their money’s worth when they shower billions on the company.

Which is weird, because these same critics (rightfully) point out that Facebook lies all the time, about everything. It would be bizarre if the only time FB was telling the truth was when it was boasting about how valuable its ad-tech is.

Facebook has a conflicted relationship with this critique. I’m sure they’d rather not be characterized as a brainwashing system that turns good people into monsters, but not when the choice is between “brainwashers” and “con-artists selling garbage to credulous ad execs.”

As FB investor and board member Peter Thiel puts it: “I’d rather be seen as evil than incompetent.” In other words, the important word in “evil genius” is “genius,” not “evil.”

https://twitter.com/doctorow/status/1440312271511568393

The accord of tech critics and techbros gives rise to a curious hybrid, aptly named by Maria Farrell: the Prodigal Techbro.

A prodigal techbro is a self-styled wizard of machine-learning/surveillance mind control who has see the error of his ways.

https://crookedtimber.org/2020/09/23/story-ate-the-world-im-biting-back/

This high-tech sorcerer doesn’t disclaim his magical powers — rather, he pledges to use them for good, to fight the evil sorcerers who invented a mind-control ray to sell your nephew a fidget-spinner, then let Robert Mercer hijack it to turn your uncle into a Qanon racist.

There’s a great name for this critique, criticism that takes its subjects’ claims to genius at face value: criti-hype, coined by Lee Vinsel, describing a discourse that turns critics into “the professional concern trolls of technoculture.”

https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5

The thing is, Facebook really is terrible — but not because it uses machine learning to brainwash boomers into iodine-guzzling Qnuts. And likewise, there really is a problem with conspiratorial, racist, science-denying, epistemologically chaotic conspiratorialism.

Addressing that problem requires that we understand the direction of the causal arrow — that we understand whether Facebook is the cause or the effect of the crisis, and what role it plays.

“Facebook wizards turned boomers into orcs” is a comforting tale, in that it implies that we need merely to fix Facebook and the orcs will turn back into our cuddly grandparents and get their shots. The reality is a lot gnarlier and, sadly, less comforting.

There’s been a lot written about Facebook’s sell-job to advertisers, but less about the concern over “disinformation.” In a new, excellent longread for Harpers, Joe Bernstein makes the connection between the two:

https://harpers.org/archive/2021/09/bad-news-selling-the-story-of-disinformation/

Fundamentally: if we question whether Facebook ads work, we should also question whether the disinformation campaigns that run amok on the platform are any more effective.

Bernstein starts by reminding us of the ad industry’s one indisputable claim to persuasive powers: ad salespeople are really good at convincing ad buyers that ads work.

Think of department store magnate John Wanamaker’s lament that “Half the money I spend on advertising is wasted; the trouble is I don’t know which half.” Whoever convinced him that he was only wasting half his ad spend was a true virtuoso of the con.

As Tim Hwang documents brilliantly in his 2020 pamphlet “Subprime Attention Crisis,” ad-tech is even griftier than the traditional ad industry. Ad-tech companies charge advertisers for ads that are never served, or never rendered, or never seen.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/05/florida-man/#wannamakers-ghost

They rig ad auctions, fake their reach numbers, fake their conversions (they also lie to publishers about how much they’ve taken in for serving ads on their pages and short change them by millions).

Bernstein cites Hwang’s work, and says, essentially, shouldn’t this apply to “disinformation?”

If ads don’t work well, then maybe political ads don’t work well. And if regular ads are a swamp of fraudulently inflated reach numbers, wouldn’t that be true of political ads?

Bernstein talks about the history of ads as a political tool, starting with Eisenhower’s 1952 “Answers America” campaign, designed and executed at great expense by Madison Ave giants Ted Bates.

Hannah Arendt, whom no one can accuse of being soft on the consequences of propaganda, was skeptical of this kind of enterprise: “The psychological premise of human manipulability has become one of the chief wares that are sold on the market of common and learned opinion.”

The ad industry ran an ambitious campaign to give scientific credibility to its products. As Jacques Ellul wrote in 1962, propagandists were engaged in “the increasing attempt to control its use, measure its results, define its effects.”

Appropriating the jargon of behavioral scientists let ad execs “assert audiences, like workers in a Taylorized workplace, need not be persuaded through reason, but could be trained through repetition to adopt the new consumption habits desired by the sellers.” -Zoe Sherman

These “scientific ads” had their own criti-hype attackers, like Vance “Hidden Persuaders” Packard, who admitted that “researchers were sometimes prone to oversell themselves — or in a sense to exploit the exploiters.”

Packard cites Yale’s John Dollard, a scientific ad consultant, who accused his colleagues of promising advertisers “a mild form of omnipotence,” which was “well received.”

Today’s scientific persuaders aren’t in a much better place than Dollard or Packard. Despite all the talk of political disinformation’s reach, a 2017 study found “sharing articles from fake news domains was a rare activity” affecting <10% of users.

https://www.science.org/doi/10.1126/sciadv.aau4586

So, how harmful is this? One study estimates “if one fake news article were about as persuasive as one TV campaign ad, the fake news in our database would have changed vote shares by an amount on the order of hundredths of a percentage point.”

https://www.aeaweb.org/articles?id=10.1257/jep.31.2.211

Now, all that said, American politics certainly feel and act differently today than in years previous. The key question: “is social media creating new types of people, or simply revealing long-obscured types of people to a segment of the public unaccustomed to seeing them?”

After all, American politics has always had its “paranoid style,” and the American right has always had a sizable tendency towards unhinged conspiratorialism, from the John Birch Society to Goldwater Republicans.

Social media may not be making more of these yahoos, but rather, making them visible to the wider world, and to each other, allowing them to make common cause and mobilize their adherents (say, to carry tiki torches through Charlottesville in Nazi cosplay).

If that’s true, then elite calls to “fight disinformation” are unlikely to do much, except possibly inflaming things. If “disinformation” is really people finding each other (not infecting each other) labelling their posts as “disinformation” won’t change their minds.

Worse, plans like the Biden admin’s National Strategy for Countering Domestic Terrorism lump 1/6 insurrectionists in with anti-pipeline activists, racial justice campaigners, and animal rights groups.

Whatever new powers we hand over to fight disinformation will be felt most by people without deep-pocketed backers who’ll foot the bill for crack lawyers.

Here’s the key to Bernstein’s argument: “One reason to grant Silicon Valley’s assumptions about our mechanistic persuadability is that it prevents us from thinking too hard about the role we play in taking up and believing the things we want to believe. It turns a huge question about the nature of democracy in the digital age — what if the people believe crazy things, and now everyone knows it? — into a technocratic negotiation between tech companies, media companies, think tanks, and universities.”

I want to “Yes, and” that.

My 2020 book How To Destroy Surveillance Capitalism doesn’t dismiss the idea that conspiratorialism is on the rise, nor that tech companies are playing a key role in that rise — but without engaging in criti-hype.

https://onezero.medium.com/how-to-destroy-surveillance-capitalism-8135e6744d59

In my book, I propose that conspiratorialism isn’t a crisis of what people believe so much as how they arrive at their beliefs — it’s an “epistemological crisis.”

We live in a complex society plagued by high-stakes questions none of us can answer on our own.

Do vaccines work? Is oxycontin addictive? Should I wear a mask? Can we fight covid by sanitizing surfaces? Will distance ed make my kind an ignoramus? Should I fly in a 737 Max?

Even if you have the background to answer one of these questions, no one can answer all of them.

Instead, we have a process: neutral expert agencies use truth-seeking procedures to sort of competing claims, showing their work and recusing themselves when they have conflicts, and revising their conclusions in light of new evidence.

It’s pretty clear that this process is breaking down. As companies (led by the tech industry) merge with one another to form monopolies, they hijack their regulators and turn truth-seeking into an auction, where shareholder preferences trump evidence.

This perversion of truth has consequences — take the FDA’s willingness to accept the expensively manufactured evidence of Oxycontin’s safety, a corrupt act that kickstarted the opioid epidemic, which has killed 800,000 Americans to date.

If the best argument for vaccine safety and efficacy is “We used the same process and experts as pronounced judgement on Oxy” then it’s not unreasonable to be skeptical — especially if you’re still coping with the trauma of lost loved ones.

As Anna Merlan writes in her excellent Republic of Lies, conspiratorialism feeds on distrust and trauma, and we’ve got plenty of legitimate reasons to experience both.

https://memex.craphound.com/2019/09/21/republic-of-lies-the-rise-of-conspiratorial-thinking-and-the-actual-conspiracies-that-fuel-it/

Tech was an early adopter of monopolistic tactics — the Apple ][+ went on sale the same year Ronald Reagan hit the campaign trail, and the industry’s growth tracked perfectly with the dismantling of antitrust enforcement over the past 40 years.

What’s more, while tech may not persuade people, it is indisputably good at finding them. If you’re an advertiser looking for people who recently looked at fridge reviews, tech finds them for you. If you’re a boomer looking for your old high school chums, it’ll do that too.

Seen in that light, “online radicalization” stops looking like the result of mind control, instead showing itself to be a kind of homecoming — finding the people who share your interests, a common online experience we can all relate to.

I found out about Bernstein’s article from the Techdirt podcast, where he had a fascinating discussion with host Mike Masnick.

https://www.techdirt.com/articles/20210928/12593747652/techdirt-podcast-episode-299-misinformation-about-disinformation.shtml

Towards the end of that discussion, they talked about FB’s Project Amplify, in which the company tweaked its news algorithm to uprank positive stories about Facebook, including stories its own PR department wrote.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/22/kropotkin-graeber/#zuckerveganism

Project Amplify is part of a larger, aggressive image-control effort by the company, which has included shuttering internal transparency portals, providing bad data to researchers, and suing independent auditors who tracked its promises.

I’d always assumed that this truth-suppression and wanton fraud was about hiding how bad the platform’s disinformation problem was.

But listening to Masnick and Bernstein, I suddenly realized there was another explanation.

Maybe Facebook’s aggressive suppression of accurate assessments of disinformation on its platform are driven by a desire to hide how expensive (and profitable) political advertising it depends on is pretty useless.

Image: Anthony Quintano (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Mark_Zuckerberg_F8_2018_Keynote_(41793470192).jpg

Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

#pluralistic

[angellesword]

MAGIC SHOP | JJK (06)

Description: You and Jungkook were best friends who were in love with each other. What would happen when Soojin, your half sister who you’re trying to impress, told you she’s in love with Jungkook too?

Alternatively:

“Would you believe me if I said that I was scared of everything too?”

Genre: childhood best friends to lovers, family drama, angst, fluff, idiots to lovers, pining, slice of life au.

Pairing: Architect!Jungkook x Architect!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: mention of sexist behavior, (old men being trash) forced marriage.

SERIES: CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 7

Jungkook never imagined that he would be spending his Monday with a bunch of men he didn't like.

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this..." Taemin smiled apologetically at Jungkook, but he didn't seem apologetic at all. It was as though your father planned all of this to happen.

Taemin didn't even ask Jungkook if he wanted to be a part of this. The head architect was actually surprised when right after he dropped you off to work this morning, he was escorted by Taemin's bodyguards to the parking lot, saying that your father needed to talk to him.

"No worries, as long as I'm still getting paid today. My hourly rate is not a joke, you know..."

Taemin laughed. This time his smile didn't seem fake, like he truly appreciated Jungkook's assurance.

"I can double your pay today. It's Monday after all."

Jungkook nodded because he was pleased. The double pay was just a bonus. The fact that he got to spend the day away from the construction site was already a breath of relief.

Mondays were the busiest time of the week for Jungkook. This was why he didn't understand why Taemin and some shareholders of Castle decided to play golf today.

They just mingled at the party last Saturday. Wasn't it enough? What more did they need to talk about?

"Architect Jeon! Come play with us!" When one of the shareholders called Jungkook's attention, he realized that the party was indeed not enough time to talk about business.

This was an extension of that party. Jungkook just wasn't sure why he was suddenly included. Was it because he got to talk to Mr. Wang last week? The latter was a prospective investor after all.

Maybe these men wanted to know what Jungkook thought about Mr. Wang. Admittedly, he was the only one who got to talk to the older man. Mr. Wang was hard to read. They were surprised that he spared the head architect some time.

Perhaps this wasn't about Mr. Wang at all. Maybe Taemin and the shareholders just wanted to know Jungkook's secret and charm.

"Be right there," Jungkook nodded at them before turning to look at Taemin.

"Let's join them?"

Your father nodded as well, standing up and grabbing his golf club.

Jungkook enjoyed golf. He was a decent player. He was told that this game somehow revealed the personality of a businessperson. He usually met with different clients so he figured that it's best if he could at least get an idea how people in this industry acted.

This was Jungkook's first time to play golf with Taemin and the shareholders though. He normally played this with his business clients.

"Congratulations again for closing that deal with Mrs. Lee, Architect Jeon..." Shareholder Kang said while scanning the course map.

"Ah," Jungkook momentarily stopped setting up his swing upon hearing that. He stood up straight, scratching the back of his head while smiling awkwardly at the older man.

"Thanks, but it won't be possible without Architect Soojin. It's her team's idea after all..."

Mr. Kang snickered, causing Jungkook to raise his brow.

"Why? Did I say something funny?"

"Not really." Mr. Yoo was the one who answered Jungkook's question. "But we feel like you are the sole reason why Mrs. Lee accepted the proposal."

The other shareholders hummed in agreement, smiling. Jungkook did not find this amusing though. In fact, Mr. Yoo's take only caused your best friend to raise his brow even higher.

"I don't understand. It is not my idea. I'm barely assisting Architect Kim and her team."

Jungkook's tone was edgy. He wanted these men to realize that their belief was bull. However they continued to justify that they were right and he was wrong.

"You're too humble for your own good, head architect." Mr. Song teased, knees slightly bended as he leaned forward at his hips.

"Ms. Kim Soojin's idea is..." He paused to look for the best way to describe the project.

"Unrealistic, unconvincing, shallow." Mr. Lim supplied.

Mr. Han laughed mockingly.

"In short, her idea is lame."

"Exactly. It's better to file for bankruptcy if all the architects in Castle are like that." Mr. Yoo playfully swung the gold club, waiting for his turn.

Shareholder Song was taking so long in hitting the ball.

"I mean, come on!" Mr. Kang groaned. "A luxury spa? Who wants that when there are saunas everywhere? Hell, I'm a millionaire but I'll choose a public bathhouse. It's cheaper."

Mr. Han shrugged off.

"Me too. I'm just glad you're part of the project, Architect Jeon. You can fix Ms. Kim's lapses."

Mr. Lim agreed.

"It's also a good thing that Mrs. Lee is stupid enough to agree with the proposal. Ah, women..." He shook his head. "They have big ass and tits but they lack this!"

The men cackled when Mr. Lim pointed at his brain, implying that women had small brains.

Jungkook was starting to think that the double pay wasn't worth it if it meant he had to spend time with these imbeciles. Would it even be enough to cover the medical expenses he would incur if he beat the shit out of them?

"That true! Have you seen Ms. Kim's ass? Taemin!" Mr. Song turned to look at Soojin's father.

"I just have to say this, man. Your daughter is so sexy, especially when she's wearing those tight skirts. Damn!" Mr. Song continued, twisting his shoulder to bring the club all the way up. "Tell her I'm willing to buy all skirts for her—"

Jungkook couldn't take it anymore.

"Shut your mouth." He barked at Mr. Song, but his eyes were focused on Taemin, wondering why he was quiet when his own daughter was being treated like shit.

Jungkook thought that his threat was taken seriously by them. They actually stopped laughing, some of them even cleared their throat like they regretted opening their mouth in the first place.

Mr. Song didn't say anything for a while either. He just swung his golf club, finally hitting the ball.

It went straight to the hole.

The men cheered, but Mr. Song wasn't smiling, just glaring daggers at Jungkook. The latter didn't feel intimidated at all.

If Soojin's father wouldn't do right by her, then Jungkook would. He couldn't just stand here and let this sexist piece of shit blabber.

"What?" Jungkook squared his jaw, inhaling. Mr. Song was standing too close to him, almost hitting his chest.

Mr. Song's jaw clenched. Jungkook readied himself to throw a punch, but he was surprised when the older man chuckled loudly.

"Good, good, little Jeon!" He patted Jungkook's shoulders, the smile on his lips was still apparent.

"You know how to defend your woman, huh?"

Jungkook parted his mouth to speak. He wanted to tell Mr. Song that Soojin wasn't his woman. She was her own person. He also wanted to say that he would defend any woman who was being harassed by someone like him.

He wasn't able to do it though. Mr. Song cut him off.

"See, this is the attitude of a true king." He patted Jungkook's shoulder again before turning to Soojin's father.

"Am I right, Taemin? Architect Jeon is fit to be the next chairman of Castle..."

"Yes." Taemin smiled tightly. The other men approved, saying that Jungkook had their votes when it was time to elect for the next chairman. Kim Taemin wasn't getting any younger. Sooner or later, he had to give up his position.

"Architect Jeon will surely be my successor."

"Sir." Jungkook said pointedly, flickering his irises at Taemin. What the fuck was he talking about? He was not the successor. It was Soojin.

"Oh, look at the time!" Taemin beamed, glancing at his Rolex and purposely ignoring his adopted son. "It's getting late, isn't it? Shall we have lunch together?"

"Ah, right." Mr. Lee caressed his stomach. "Diabetic men are not allowed to skip meals."

Lunch with Taemin and the shareholders was torture. Jungkook didn't know how many times he had to stop himself from punching these men.

Seriously. He couldn't count how many times they talked shit about women and people who weren't as wealthy as them.

They also complained about literally everything. Mr. Yoo smacked the head of one of the waiters for getting his order wrong.

"I said I want a well done steak! Not this garbage!" Mr. Yoo stabbed the medium well steak with a fork, causing the poor waiter to flinch.

"Ah. We should've eaten at home! You dogs should try my wife's steak. Hell, she's really perfect in my kitchen."

Jungkook wanted to say something, but Taemin subtly shook his head, silently telling the younger that it's not worth it.

But it is. Jungkook was dying to say. Keeping quiet implied that he was okay with this even when he was not.

"Let it go. We'll talk about it later." Taemin assured Jungkook when the latter looked like he was on the verge of walking away.

This was the longest hours of his life. He couldn't stand up, couldn't take a break from listening to them. These men took their time, just mocking people while drinking coffee and blowing cigarette smoke.

Jungkook stole a glance at his wrist watch. It was already 4:42pm. Shit. He was supposed to pick you up at five o'clock. Guess he should just rain check on that dinner date he promised you tonight, huh?

He was about to send you a text message when he realized that he left his phone inside his car, his car that was in the parking lot of Castle. Damn it.

Jungkook wished he could just head home and kiss you, however it wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

"Where are we going?" He asked Taemin who took a left turn, direction away from the office.

The shareholders called it a day, saying they had to head home and sleep.

"You'll see," Taemin didn't reveal much, causing Jungkook to get more annoyed.

"No. Tell me." He was having none of it. Jungkook was exhausted. He didn't understand why Taemin had to drive and send his bodyguards home.

The older man didn't like talking when he was driving, saying he had to 'focus," because safety was their first priority.

Jungkook was pretty sure this was only an excuse. Perhaps Taemin didn't know how to explain his behavior when he was with the shareholders. He probably knew that he sucked for not defending Soojin and for lying about Jungkook being his successor.

"I'll tell you when we get there."

For the nth time, Jungkook wasn't able to do anything. He gave up. There was no point in arguing with Taemin because he would only be met with silence or dismissal.

Fortunately Jungkook and Taemin arrived at their destination before the former lost his patience.

The drive wasn't long, distance-wise, but the traffic jam in Seoul was getting worse.

"We're here." Taemin announced, stopping the car right in front of the columbarium where the urn of Jungkook's father was stored.

Jungkook's creased his forehead

"Why are we here?"

"I miss him." Taemin simply shrugged, getting out of the car and heading straight to the building.

Jungkook followed him. He visited his father as often as he could. He was sure the flowers he brought not more than a week ago hadn't wilted yet. Still, he felt bad that he came here today empty handed.

Taemin brought a flower though. It was a piece of orange geiger that he probably plucked at the golf course.

The flora was already crushed because Taemin kept it in the pocket of his slacks. It didn't stop him from putting it right beside Jong-in's urn.

"He hates the color orange." Jungkook reminded, snorting as he stared at the polaroid film placed against the urn.

It was a picture of him and Jong-in when he won first place in Taekwondo. He was only ten years old that time. You were the one who took the photograph, supporting him all the way.

"He hates cowards too." Jungkook added.

"I know, me too..." Taemin was also staring at the photograph. "That's why I hate myself."

Jungkook balled his hand into a fist.

"Then why be one?" He almost snarled at your father. "Why did you let those men say those...stupid things to Soojin? Why let them get away with it?"

Jungkook was fuming. The frustration he felt was too much that he couldn't hide it anymore. Tears brimmed his eyes.

It pained him to hear them talk about Soojin like that. He didn't love her in a romantic way, but she was his family. He treated Soojin like his little sister.

"Your father..." Taemin spoke after a short while. He still couldn't face Jungkook.

"Your father loved Castle. He poured his time and energy in the company. I am aware that you know this too. You sometimes joked about it, right? You asked him if he loved Castle more than he loved you..." Taemin smiled.

Jungkook couldn't help it. He giggled as well. Yeah. Those were the good old days. Jungkook could never forget the face his father would make whenever he asked that question.

"When he was still alive, he would always say that he wants me to take good care of you and the company if ever something happens to him."

Jungkook's smile immediately turned into a scowl. It had been many years since his father passed away, yet this was still a sore topic for him.

"That's what I'm doing right now, Jungkook-ah. Those filthy men are the lifeblood of our company. We have to be careful around them."

Jungkook shook his head.

"Does that mean we have to keep silent even if what they're doing is wrong?"

"Yes." Taemin didn't even bat an eyelash. Those men had big shares in the company, they were part of the board of directors too.

"Business is a game. You can't win if you don't have resources. Better build an army rather than collecting enemies."

"What's the point of building an army if they can't respect you?" Jungkook scoffed.

"People will only respect you if you don't go against them. You will never be respected if you don't have power." Taemin retorted. "So stay in power, Architect Jeon. That's when you'll be able to really control people."

Jungkook attempted to ponder about what Taemin told him. The older man was his mentor for years. Admittedly, he had learned a lot from Taemin. What happened today was probably the only lesson he didn't like and understand.

"Can you drop me off at the office, uncle? I left my car there..." Jungkook blurted out, heart beating fast upon realizing that he hadn't called you all day.

It was already 6:22pm. Did you wait for him? Did you call him? Were you mad? God. You're probably pissed at him.

"I'll ask my secretary to take care of it. We need to go home. Family dinner. Everyone's waiting for us."

"Everyone?" Jungkook hiccupped. Did it mean that you would be there too?

"Yes. My children and my wife. All of us."

Jungkook simply nodded, choosing to conserve his energy because he knew he still needed to apologize to you. Maybe this would also be the perfect opportunity to finally tell Soojin what he felt for her.

They arrived at the mansion at exactly seven pm. The house was usually quiet, but tonight was different.

Everyone seemed to be in a hurry, causing Jungkook to think if he had missed something. Was today someone's birthday?

"Are we celebrating something?" This was what Jungkook said the moment he took a step inside the dining area.

There was a feast.

Taemin was right. Every member of the family was present. Jungkook's eyes shifted to you, like it was natural for him to find you whenever, wherever.

You were not looking at him though. Your eyes were trained on your empty plate.

"Are you kidding me, Jungkook? It's your engagement—" Taehyung who was seated on your right, tried to speak, however he was cut off by Sin-ae.

"You two are right on time! Come! Sit!" Sin-ae grinned nervously, helping to remove her husband's coat.

Soojin tried to do the same with Jungkook.

"I got it..." Jungkook stopped Soojin from latching on his arm, his eyes were still focused on you.

He wanted to ask if you were alright. You seemed down and you hadn't spared him a single glance.

"Sit beside me, JK," Soojin still managed to hold onto his biceps, pulling him to sit right across from you.

"What are we celebrating again?" Jungkook was talking to Taehyung but his gaze was still on you.

Your youngest brother turned to Jungkook, a playful smirk was plastered on his lips. He looked amused.

"Why don't you ask my lovely sister Soojin?" Taehyung was munching a piece of pickled radish. "Or my mom? I'm sure they'll be happy to tell you since it looks like you don't have any idea what's happening..."

"Let's just enjoy our food first, shall we, huh, Kim Taehyung?" Sin-ae gritted her teeth, giving her youngest son a pointed look.

Jungkook shrugged. He wasn't that interested anyway. He only went here because you were here. He wanted to apologize to you.

It was clear to him now that you were pissed. You liked shrimps, but hated peeling them so he did it for you. Using his chopsticks, he picked up the two shrimps and transferred it to your plate.

Instead of thanking him or smiling at him, you just pushed the seafood to the corner of your plate, like you didn't want to eat them.

"You're awfully sweet to her, aren't you, JK?" Namjoon who was sitting on your left, voiced out, noticing how Jungkook treated you.

Your flinched, heart skipping a beat.

"You just gave her shrimps." Namjoon said again when Jungkook just creased his forehead.

"Ah. She likes shrimps." He shrugged, failing to notice that the act was a big deal. He had done this many times already. Jungkook always peeled shrimps for you ever since you two were kids.

"Careful there. Soojin might get jealous."

"Why would you get jealous?" Jungkook asked your sister directly. "We're not dating."

Seokjin and Taehyung choked. Namjoon dropped his fork. Sin-ae was flustered while both Soojin and his father sighed: the former in exasperation while the latter did it in exhaustion.

You remained silent despite the fact that everyone seemed surprised because of what Jungkook said.

"What?" The head architect raised a brow, confused. "You're all acting weird."

Except you, but Jungkook already knew you were damn good at hiding your emotions.

No one was aware that you were shocked and confused too. Why was Jungkook acting like he had no idea what was happening?

Could it be because....it's the truth? Was he really clueless?

Your assumption was confirmed when Taemin awkwardly cleared his throat, shifting his attention to your best friend.

"Remember when I told you earlier that you're going to be my successor?"

Jungkook raised his head slightly.

"Well...it's the truth. You're going to be the chairman of Castle after marrying my daughter—" Taemin gulped. "—Soojin."

"No." Jungkook stated, so fast he didn't even blink.

"Jungkook—"

"I said no." Jungkook's voice was full of authority, his eyes were dark, jaw and fist clenching.

"But we have already announced it publicly." Sin-ae mumbled. She didn't realize that Jungkook would react this way. He was always so kind, sweet, and level headed.

He was different tonight. Truthfully, he looked terrifying as he glowered at Taemin.

"I get it now," Jungkook cackled, wetting his lower lip. "Meeting with the shareholders and bringing me to the columbarium? These were all part of your plan."

Huh. He was so stupid to fall for your father's trap. Taemin didn't give two shits about his 'promise' to Jong-in. He was only doing all of this for his own interest.

"You need me to marry Soojin because it's what the shareholders want, right?"

Taemin didn't deny Jungkook's accusation.

"They will withdraw their shares in the company if Soojin becomes the chairperson. They want a man to be in power, Jeon."

"Then let them go. It's their loss."

"You know very well that it's not. Our empire will fall without them."

"Then let the empire fall." Jungkook threw the napkin on his plate. He was done. He lost his appetite. "I don't care. I'm not marrying Soojin."

He said it with finality that Soojin couldn't help but gasp.

"Yah, Jeon Jungkook!" Her fist landed on top of the table. "Does the idea of marrying me so bad that you're willing to let our company fall, huh?"

"Yes." Jungkook didn't hesitate. "It's bad because I don't love you like that, Soojin. I can't love you the way you want me to."

"Nobody said you two need to love each other." Seokjin took part in the conversation. He only said this because he and his wife didn't marry for love. It was for business too.

"Then why get married? I don't believe in marriage for convenience. I will only do it for love." Jungkook switched his gaze at you the moment he said the word 'love'

He was surprised to see you already staring at him. You looked away when he caught you though.

"So sappy, JK." Taehyung teased. "Why? Do you love someone else?"

"I do." Jungkook was very honest and it was starting to annoy you. You wondered if he ever processed his thoughts first. It looked like he just kept saying things that entered his mind.

"Who is she?" Soojin demanded. She wanted to scream.

Jungkook looked like he was about to say something without thinking again, but before he could do that, you interfered.

"Oh no!" Your eyes dilated, elbowing the glass of champagne and letting the sticky drink stained your dress.

"Oh, for God's sake!" Sin-ae rolled her eyes, snapping at you. "You're so clumsy! You're ruining our night!"

"Eomma..." Taehyung warned. He was about to grab a napkin so he could hand it to you, but Jungkook was already on his feet, going near you.

"Are you okay?" He leaned closer to you, dabbing the napkin onto your dress.

You took advantage of his close proximity.

"Don't say anything about us. Please." You whispered and then you slightly pushed him away.

"I'm okay. Thanks, Jungkook." You stood up quickly, almost stumbling in doing so. Fortunately your best friend managed to grab your wrist.

"Careful..." He said softly, hands grabbing your waist.

You pushed him away again, trembling.

"I-I'll just change." You didn't wait for their approval.

You just left with your heart still beating fast.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #ficswithluv #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #armywriterssupport #jungkook x yn #jungkook x oc #bts fic #jungkook best friends to lovers #best friend jungkook

[justimajin]

Til Death Do Us Part ♜ Pt.7

➟ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

➟ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut

↳ (3.8k), Arranged Marriage AU

➟ Summary: If someone told you that you’d be marrying the Kim Namjoon, you would think you were being lied to, or worse, that you were hallucinating. However, fate seems to have it’s own ways of making the impossible possible and before you even know it, the title of Mrs. Kim is bestowed onto you. There’s just one problem: you’re not sure if Kim Namjoon is the person he says he is and the truth of your own identity is dangling by the strength of a mere thread.

➟ Warnings: 18+ rating, the angst is strong with this one

gif credit.

➟ Previous Parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

➟ Next Update: Tuesday, February 2 

The home is somewhat cozy.

It’s smaller than the one you and Namjoon have been occupying, doors and rooms completely foreign. There’s a serene meadow nearby that remains you of the garden, and within the interior of the house lies a surprisingly expansive assortment of spiraling halls, all leading into different directions.

The aftermath of your sudden kidnapping led Namjoon to the decision of temporarily retreating elsewhere. 

“It’s not much, but it’s definitely doable.” He explains, pacing around the bedroom and double checking the various drawers for clothes, “I don’t think we’ll be here too long, but there seems to be enough supplies.” 

You remain seated on the edge of the bed, eyes staring at the ground in silence. Namjoon quickly glances outside the window before resuming to take apparel out of them. 

“We should be safe here.” He hurriedly says, carefully placing the clothes aside, “I haven’t been able to get into contact with my family either, so I’m hoping they know to stay under the radar after discovering our absence. In fact, I‒” 

“You knew….” 

Your voice is incredibly faint, akin to a whisper. He’s crouched down on the ground, hands clasped around a cotton shirt when they freeze in place. 

Slowing rising from his spot, he turns to face you. The first thing that captures his attention is the accumulation of tears within your eyes, your features twisting. 

“W-Why didn’t you just kill me?” 

He walks closer to you, “Y/N…” 

Your facade snaps, no longer able to play a game of pretend. 

“I was sent to spy on you, Namjoon!” You rise from the bed, stalking towards him and placing your hands on his shoulders. “I was going to kill you!” 

“Y/N!” You abruptly glance up, startled from his tone. 

Namjoon holds a pained expression, and carefully holds your hands, just like you had reached out for his as you stopped him from going to work, “I-I’m not going to kill you….” 

You can only stare, eyes wet and teeth digging into your bottom lip. The discovery has been killing you on the inside, the sinking awareness that he was capable of getting rid of you within any split second and that he knows, he knows of everything you’ve done in that house. 

It’s slowly driving you insane….and it terrifies you. 

“But why?!” You cry out, “I’ve killed Taehyung, I’ve murdered Eunjoo!”

Your hands frantically tremble, voice cracking, “What’s stopping me from killing you…?” 

A wave of tears run down your cheeks and your quivering hands raise to cover your face. Amidst of contemplating everything you’ve done, you can’t understand his actions and it serves to make you wonder why you’re even here. 

Why even bring someone as horrible as you into this house? 

His arms immediately wrap around you, tugging you closer. Your head rests against his shoulder, sobs amplifying. 

Namjoon sighs, his chest rising and deflating, “Honestly nothing is, if you ask me.” 

He truthfully admits it ‒ you do have the power to end his life, and he knows that, “But I accepted that being with you meant that I couldn’t interfere with your work and I wasn’t planning to either, Y/N.” 

“Y-You were waiting… you were waiting for me to kill you….” You shake your head as Namjoon continues to hold you, “I-I’ve killed so many people Namjoon…” 

Somehow, his knowledge and awareness makes you want to confess it all ‒ confess how much your hands have been horribly tainted. 

“I know, Y/N.” He whispers, “I know.” 

The wedding has commenced. 

An union between families has been forged. 

And Namjoon is no longer a single man. 

“I’d like to leave for bed now.” You smile, painting a look of exhaustion after conversing with Namjoon and his parents, “I’m feeling quite tired.” 

“Of course, of course!” Namjoon’s mother understandably waves you off as Namjoon’s father wraps a hand around his son. 

“Go on, Y/N! We need to catch up anyways!” His father says, smiling at him. 

Namjoon stiffens in his hold as you depart, following after his father into a separate room. 

The moment the door shuts close, the warm tone in Namjoon’s eyes turns cold. There’s a dark look in his father’s irises as he crosses his arms and leans against the wooden desk, staring at his son intently. 

He already knows what words he’s about to spew, and it's something his father acknowledges. 

“You know already, don’t you? Of what those pesky L/N’s sent into your home?” 

Namjoon hums, meeting the latter’s stare intently, “How long do you intend on keeping her around before getting rid of her?” 

“Perhaps for all of eternity.” His father lets out a snarl, but Namjoon challengingly quirks up a brow in retaliation. 

“Are you being serious?” He slams his fist against the table, “Do you even hear what you’re saying?!”

Namjoon’s mouth twitches, “I’ve already told you and mother multiple times ‒ I plan on marrying only once.” 

“So you’re going to have a L/N spy for a wife?! And bury this empire to the ground?!” 

“As the next heir, what I do to the business will be out of my own accord,” He sharply retorts, “And Y/N....has me for a husband. I’m no better than she is.” 

His father’s face turns bright red, angry veins running through his neck. Thankfully he doesn’t notice how Namjoon’s voice softens when he speaks of you, or the way there’s something spurring silently within his eyes, something that begins with pure curiosity and ends with wishing for a reflection. 

“You will bring our empire to its downfall.” 

Namjoon smiles. 

“Then so be it.” 

***

Kim Namjoon is blind. 

He doesn’t speak nor scrutinize, not a word leaving him as he notices a small wire sticking out from the bedroom window, ironically appearing to just be a simple one used for electricity but perfect enough to be connected to a static code receptor. 

He doesn’t retaliate with anything when you coincidentally arrive at his office with the excuse of bringing his forgotten lunch, painting on naive eyes during the meeting he holds with the shareholders of his company. He becomes aloof to their glares and scoffs, granting you complete access without being intrusive, and yet without any of his own actions, your exterior cracks ‒ breaking it on purpose to protect and defend your own family. 

His eyes flicker at witnessing your intent firsthand and without hesitation, he offers his help even if it meant welcoming deceit with open arms. 

Perhaps that act makes Namjoon hopeful, too hopeful in fact, when he draws more interest in you and wants to know more, even if your words are filled with lies and twisted truths. Perhaps his curiosity of who his wife truly is becomes too much for him to handle, that he must simply know about the person behind the mask, the person he saw at the altar that was avoiding his gaze and looking terrified beyond belief. He sees her again briefly when you begin to indulge him about your life before becoming a spy, but Namjoon can already pinpoint that he’s too hopeful as your mask surfaces again, innocently maneuvering yourself into being allowed to accompany him to his company’s warehouse. 

It makes him wonder, wonder if he was truly playing himself into a trap. If his father was right in a way, if he should simply cut off his hopeful ties and ultimately step away before it’s too late. 

But Namjoon decides to do something different, he decides to do something that you might be horribly frightened by, but he won’t ever hesitate to do. 

He becomes truthful. 

He tells you everything, what his business is, what his family is, what he is, and he can clearly see it. The terror that swims within your eyes, the astonishment that crosses you with being confronted by the truth and the hesitation, the very hesitation that drives his hopes up higher than they could be. 

But there’s one factor that Namjoon underestimated, and that’s how far you were willing to go to fulfill your role.  

He hates how late it took him to realize, scorns at how the combination of your sudden nausea coupled with Taehyung’s departure wasn’t obvious enough for him to decipher. 

The moment he comes back home that day, it’s strangely silent. He assumed that Eunjoo would be around and that you were perhaps consulting with her about your health, but the moment he rushes up the stairs, he can see it all. 

It looks squeaky clean, save for the few drops of blood stuck to the underside of one of the carpets that would have been easily ignored. 

Abruptly, the sound of the shower alerts him, and he knows exactly where the culprit is. 

He knocks on the door, carefully leaning his ear against the wood. 

“Y/N? Y/N, are you feeling better?”

“Y-Yeah...I’m feeling much better, Namjoon.” 

His eyes narrow. The sound of water restricts his ability to hear properly and gives you a sufficient reason not to face him at the moment, and your voice is hesitant and deeper than usual. 

The incident happened very close to his arrival, and you’ve been injured in the process. 

“Alright….I’ll just be here, if you need anything.” 

Before heading off to bed, he attempts to assess the situation to the best of his ability. 

Taehyung left shortly after you were feeling sick and was convinced that having you around was a bad call on his part. If Namjoon doesn’t hear from him tomorrow, it’s highly likely that he was able to figure the truth about your identity and decided to finish the job himself, ultimately failing. 

Eunjoo is nowhere inside the house. She doesn’t leave at sporadic times with informing him or leaving behind a notice, making it possible that she unintentionally found out who you were and decided to take action. 

There was only one simple method you could have used to render them silent. 

His back hits the wall as he squeezes his eyes shut, a deep remorseful sigh leaving his lips. 

“Why did the two of you need to get involved in this?” 

After that night, Namjoon sees a stark difference within you. It’s almost like there’s a deep crack within the surface of your mask, your own worries and concerns easily leaking out. 

And you make no move to sew it up. 

It brings him to the point where he even convinces you to go back home, that maybe leaving all this would grant some peace of mind to you. In the process, he was even able to keep the investigation under control and the spotlight away from you, as his involvement and words were trusted more than anything. 

But of course, your collective duties to your families reigns higher than anything. 

Ultimately, he knew solely getting involved in the investigation placed him in threatening territory. That as subjected, he would be able to easily decipher your actions and be given the opportunity to compromise your identity.  

So what better way was there, than to get rid of him? To pretend your husband met with an unfortunate incident, all while to cover up your tracks along the way? 

It was his last day ‒ he knew it. He would have to conclusively tie up your investigation in such a way that you would never be found out as the culprit. His perceived demise led to him parting a farewell gift for you as well, something he had hoped he would have survived long enough to see you wear. 

But when given the golden opportunity, you casted away your ensuing aim, choosing to save him instead.  

After taking time to calm down, a question lingers in your mind for Namjoon. 

“A-Are you going to tell anyone?” You wonder, peering over at the opposite side of the bed where he sits, “About me…?” 

Namjoon looks away from the window, instantly shaking his head, “Of course not.” 

Although his answer spreads relief through you, a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “But I do have to say, having a wife that was prepared to secretly kill me would have made a really good brunch story.” 

You let out an exhale, shaking your head with a smile that manages to crack through, “My family won’t know about you either, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that my life is in danger.” 

At the mention of prior events, you crane your head to the side and narrow your eyes. 

“It’s strange.” You place a pondering finger on your lips, “No one ever informed me that the Kim family was being targeted….”

Eyes suddenly widening, an abrupt thought sparks in your mind. 

Your voice drops into a whisper, “My mission…” 

“Huh?” Namjoon leans forward, attempting to catch a glimpse of you. Turning around, there’s dread in your eyes. 

“My mission.” You repeat, firmer this time. “It’s been compromised.” 

Recognition spreads through his irises as you uncomfortably shift. 

The feeling of a target resting on your back as well makes your stomach wind up into a thousand knots. 

“Well, are you going to follow through with it?” 

Your brows furrow immediately, answer coming through without hesitation, “No.” 

“Then the best way to combat it is to act as if nothing ever happened.” Namjoon explains, “They don’t need to know that someone is aware of your true identity.” 

Your eyes twinkle with the information, “Then I’ll need to set up some kind of communication line with them.” 

For this to work, you’ll need to keep in touch and send false reports through. However, your hopes dwindle with the knowledge that you don’t have any of your equipment with you. 

As if he knows exactly what you're thinking, Namjoon quirks up a smile and slides off the bed. He reaches his hand out to you, which you take in confusion. 

“Come on, I still need to show you the rest of the house.” 

***

Namjoon ends up leading you to a separate hallway, one that’s extremely lengthy and almost never ending until you reach a door you wouldn’t have been able to find yourself. As Namjoon knocks against it and presses his ear against the door, you notice a handful of maids walking by, some sending you friendly smiles that you return. 

The door opens and Namjoon gestures you inside. 

You’re greeted to the sight of two men in the room. One of them leans against a wooden table with his arms crossed, a pair of glasses resting on the bridge of his nose and his brown hair considerably tousled. The other sits at the same table, his cheeks full and blonde hair parted to the side. 

The blonde haired man eyes are wide, staring at you in fascination.

“Is this her?” He immediately blurts out, and when Namjoon nods, he instantly gets up and rushes over. 

A breathtaking angelic smile spreads across his features as he reaches his hand out, “Hi, it’s great to finally meet you.” 

You return the gesture but are puzzled with the interaction, your eyes swaying over to Namjoon. The man with the glasses stands up straighter, walking over to you with his hands in his pockets. 

His gaze is scrutinizing and there’s a faint twinkle residing within his irises. “Do you know who we are?” 

You're hesitant to answer, shaking your head. 

He immediately scoffs, eyes blazing with anger, “You never mentioned us?!” 

At the sound of his spiking loud tone, Namjoon sheepishly smiles and just shrugs. The man scoffs again, shaking his head. 

The action makes your mind churn, and the more you stare at the two, the more bits and pieces of information begin to weave together. 

Something suddenly flickers within your eyes, jaw instantly dropping down. Your finger shakingly points towards him in awe. 

“K-Kim Seokjin….” Your sight moves over to the man you just shook hands with, pupils widening with more realization, “and Park Jimin?” 

A smug smile crosses Seokjin’s lips, “Ah so you do know who we are, Miss Y/N.” 

His voice gives off the inkling that he knows just as much about you as you know of him ‒ even doubting that his extensive knowledge is perceptive and aware of more. 

“I’ve only seen the two of you a handful of times,” You turn to Namjoon, “When I was familiarizing myself with individuals involved in the business, we had plenty of photographs and records on each person and the tasks they oversee.”

“‒But there were some individuals that barely had any information on them. They would be spotted near you from time to time and aside from just a name, those parties remained a mystery.” 

Your eyes flicker up again, oscillating between the two. Seokjin smiles, appearing impressed with your ability to remember the trivial matters. 

Namjoon steps forward, offering up an explanation, “I think it’s great that we don’t need an introduction, but it’ll probably surprise you to know that Seokjin and Jimin are shareholders within my company.” 

Your jaw instantly drops and Namjoon chuckles, “I’d like to call them my secret shareholders, because aside from funding and aiding me with my company, they’re both equipped with other skills.” 

At the mention of it, Jimin lets a small smile slip out and Seokjin’s eyes twinkle. “They’re the only ones I can truly trust and because of that, I don’t expose them to the world and they know to keep a low profile.” 

You nod, slowly processing the information. It's still baffling to know that despite the amount of rigorous training and memorization you’ve done to prepare yourself for this task, there was still something missing that you wouldn’t have known until Namjoon told you himself. 

And their ultimate purpose is something he eventually explains. 

“The reason why I’m introducing you to them is because they will be staying with us until it’s safe to return home,” He points to Seokjin, “And I wanted to bring you to someone that knows communication lines inside and out, so that you can send your reports back.” 

Your wide eyes come into contact with Seokjin’s, and he begins to back away, gesturing to you as he heads towards the door. You take it as a sign that you need to follow after him, leaving Namjoon and Jimin behind as you exit. 

He leads you down a separate hall, entering a room with multiple devices attached to the walls. There’s various cords and headsets that mimic your initial intelligence reporting within the dark corridor, alongside computers with jargon written on them. 

Your first reaction is to simply stare in awe, “Wow….” 

Seokjin smiles, flopping down on a chair and wheeling himself over to a computer. He hands you a headset, beginning to type frantically on one of the computers. 

“This is how you’re going to hear the signals being sent through.” Spinning around in his chair, he grabs onto a bronze and steel contraption and gives it to you, “This is an upgraded version of a telegraph sounder that connects to these computers and should allow you to send information via morse code.” 

Your eyes instantly light up in recognition and you begin to carefully tap against the metal, noticing a reception signal forecasting onto the screen. Seokjin points it out to you right away and begins to type something into the keyboard. 

“This technology is so advanced….” You mumble, eyeing the screen keenly. 

“It’s good for using multiple lines when the signal you’re sending out isn’t just being received by one location.” Seokjin explains. 

You hum, continue to test out the machinery. Seokjin hooks you up to the same line you were using to communicate previously and when a successful correspondence is sent through, he grins. 

After assisting you through the process, you start sending the information over like usual. Seokjin glances at his phone, slowly rising from his seat. 

“I have to get back to the others.” He guides you to sit where he was, letting you take over completely, “Namjoon wants to discuss the events of what happened with you two.” 

You nod, eyes glued with the screen and occupied with decoding and understanding the message you receive. “If you need anymore help, don’t hesitate to ask.” 

You quickly nod and Seokjin carefully exits the room, attempting to disturb you in the middle of communicating. Your hands work furiously to decode the messages, pupils rapidly flickering all over the screen. 

However in the midst of this process, you don’t notice the abrupt static coming through from a screen that was previously turned off.

***

By the time you leave the room, you are thoroughly exhausted. 

It seems so far things are under control, though you were vigorously questioned on the delay of your previous mission. A tumble of excuses are conjured within a spindle of minutes, differing from your simple inability to do so due to your husband constantly being occupied with your investigation and the fact that he has been remaining underneath the spotlight. Regardless, it seems acceptable enough and though displeased ‒ you’re reminded that the job must be conducted efficiently as soon as possible. 

Wiping your clammy hands against one another, you peer around the hallways. It’s still considerably mind spinning to understand where the long expansive pathways lead to, especially in such a small house, but a friendly smile greets you right away. 

“Miss Y/N?” 

You whirl around to see one of the maids you had passed by earlier on, and she bows before you. 

“Master Kim alerted me that you were in this room.” She explains, “He’s been waiting for you.” 

You nod in retaliation, following after her. Your eyes begin to roam around, noticing the fine wood carvings on each door and the way there are multiple rooms in the current corridor you’re in. It doesn’t seem much like a house but more so like a mansion with its endless ways. 

The maid leading you abruptly stops and you tilt your head to the side, attempting to see what was before her. The sight of a window greets you instantly and you raise an eyebrow, but suddenly it dawns upon you that you’re no longer in the same hallway anymore. 

Instantly, your eyes snap up and the maid swivels, her hands wrapping firmly around your mouth from behind. You erratically kick your legs and attempt to grab onto bundles of her hair, but your shoes are soon dragging against the carpet. 

Your brows shoot up in alarm when more maids begin to pool in ‒ one of them begins to strenuously wrap a broken wire around your hands as another gives the first maid a damp piece of cloth. They immediately switch places, the fabric pressed right against your nose as you furiously push away from them with muffled grunts. 

Suddenly a wave of vertigo hits you and your eyes begin to frantically dart around, barely being able to focus on the way a cool breeze hits your face. 

As seconds fly by, your limbs fall limp and your pupils roll back in your sockets, rendering you completely unconscious. 

#btswriterscollective #btsbookclub #namjoon fanfic #bts namjoon fanfic #kim namjoon fanfic #bts rm fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #namjoon smut #bts namjoon fluff #bts namjoon angst #bts namjoon smut #bts namjoon arranged marriage au #bts arranged marriage au #bts rm arranged marriage au #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #namjoon x reader #namjoon x oc

[youwontlikethisblog]

Betty, My Betty! Part 2.5 (Hopefully the last one)

Alrighty, I think this will be my last post for tonight? This morning? But it is still in the same vine of Armando being possessive so he is the main subject of this breakdown but I will also be discussing Mario a lot here so this in an attempt to be the final post regarding this episode will be a lengthy one.

Again I accidently bought the bootleg version of the novela so some scenes and episodes are missing as well as the chapters aren't titled.

We are in the same episode of Armando reacting to Betty having a boyfriend.

Right now Betty is exiting her office, she just hung up the phone with Nicolas who warned her that they needed to pay a loan to the bank because their 24 or 27 days were up.

Mario is leaning over Armando's desk and Armando is leaning forward as they are both discussing and whispering (that part is so short you can't really pick at what they're talking about but you can imagine what it is. I'm assuming that while Mario was telling Armando not to question or judge Betty on her personal life that Betty was in her office on the phone with Nicolas and when Mario leaned forward to talk to Armando Betty was about to end her call so they are essentially talking about how to go about finding out who Betty's boyfriend is) something I cannot hear. As Betty fully exits her office Mario moves from being up front to in the back of the room by the doors that take us to the meeting room. He looks Betty down and up as if checking her out.

This small frame(I don't know if when they were whispering it was them arguing over Mario's proposal of the plan or if Mario hadn't proposed it yet and it was just them talking about how to find out who Nicolas is because again, since this bootleg version isn't the complete one some scenes are missing so I could be wrong about this one! but the episode I saw on NBC showed the exact same scene so I'm going by the first "(red)" in the paragraph above) allows us to depict Mario coming up or starting to scheme the plan.

We know Mario Calderon will screw anything that has legs, wears skirts, and breathes and consents that is(<-hopefully). Every woman who has had a seggsual relationship with him has said so. Marcela warned Paty about it before they got involved so I'm assuming that in this scene Mario is checking out Betty to see if it's possible for someone to really love(lust) her and if not than he needs to figure out a plan and a way to convince Armando to follow through said plan.

When you're writing a novel you write down the key points you want to make but as you imagine certain scenes you really delve into detail of characterization. You make sure that whatever happens in that scene that your characters behave as themselves. So you really spend time getting to know your characters. This is a general rule of thumb for any creative writer. The plus of being a novelist or writing literature is that you can really go deep into details and write scenes in really long poetic ways. I don't know how to write scripts but I've read some from TV shows I've watched and they are written differently than a novel. Scripts have more dialogue than poetic descriptions and they are usually blunt with what the writer wants from each character in that scene.

For example: (Take this with a grain of salt I don't know how to write scripts I am going off based on how I've read them)

Ana walks into the room. The camera focuses on her face. There's lighting outside and we see the lighting flash on her face.

Julian turns to see her. He is surprised to see her. He thought she was dead. He stands up slowly. The camera focuses on his face and then Ana's.

She smiles at him, tears forming in her eyes.

"Is that re-really you?" He stutters. He then walks slowly towards her.

In a script you write where the camera goes, where the actors move, the facial expressions, the mood of the room, and so forth. Yes directors do have a say on how they choreograph scenes and actors can add their own two cents but script writers have a pretty good idea of everything that is going on the scene and why it is. If in novel writing(that's not the correct term) we focus a lot on how the reader will imagine the scene and being able to correctly and artistically discribe it as well as how they will understand it because we are not focusing on visual cues like script writers but rather focused on using words to be able to paint a inner visual picture than in scripts the writer usually focuses on tone and movement. The same rule still stands though; show don't tell.

Why do I even bring this up?

This helps us understand that what is shown here isn't just an accident. We aren't being fed what we're told, we are being fed what we see. What we see is the final vision of the writer. Fernando Gaitan was the only one to write this novel and he wrote every detail with the intention of it to mean something.

I have no doubt that the actors added their own flavor as they are excellent actors and the reason why we were able to fall in love with these character. The directing is amazing as well. The scene cuts, the frames, and the choreo are amazing(tho some stills are funny and y'all know which ones) but the writing has a lot to do with it. If anyone is a script writer or knows what that's about correct me if I'm wrong!

I say this because what we are being told and shown is that Armando had feelings for Betty and not a crush like Betty did. He actually cared about her, as a friend. I know many don't agree with that because Armando was a crappy boss. We see them always interact as boss and employee but the reason why I continue to bring up the fact that he started to blur those lines is because we were being told and shown that.

Armando is mechanical. He is emotionless to the outsiders. As he once told Betty that she probably thinks he is a man of ice and later on in the future we see Betty daydream telling Marcela that she knows Armando acts like he's got a heart of stone but deep inside of him he needs a lot of love. However Armando isn't a man of iron and he tells that to Betty himself.

We are told this but what are we shown?

We are shown an erratic, often driven by emotion, and neutronic person. Now the people he has surrounded himself with aren't the most loving and welcoming people. They are pretty judgy and stuck up. So often the emotions he shows and knows how to distinguish well are anger, frustration, and most of all being erratic with the emotions mentioned above. These emotions drive him. The people around him think that he is a man of stone and that nothing moves him. However we then meet a woman who isn't like that at all or like any of the people he has surrounded himself with.

This person is kind, loving, respectful, and sweet to everyone. She loves her job, loves her friends, loves her family and secretly loves her boss. In a very poetic way Betty is color in an otherwise black and white world. She brings warmth to Armando and because they work so closely, how is he not supposed to be affected by this? How is he not supposed to be changed and moved by this?

He is an awe of her morals, of Betty's qualities and her general presence and though we aren't bluntly told this by the characters themselves we are shown this and it's not by accident and not by mistakes of post production.

Take a break if you need it.

It isn't an accident that we see Mario so much in these scenes just standing in the background taking it all in because he truly is the mastermind behind Betty's downfall. He truly mapped out and planned the way to seduce Betty and how to manipulate Armando and didn't even care if it hurt her or his best friend. What he cared about was that his best friend remained President because titles mean everything to him. As we saw in the past when Armando and him were arguing over the deal with the Panamanian fabric seller, while Armando focused on how it not only affected him and the major shareholders but everyone, Mario reminded him that he was also a minority shareholder, but a shareholder nonetheless. Armando's inner turmoil was that he was jeopardizing the livelihood of not only the company's shareholders, and his family but the entire company's employee roster while Mario was more focused on himself, telling him that he too had a lot to lose but not understanding what really weighted down Armando's shoulders.

Think about it, Mario in a sense is a leech. He gets the crumbs of women Armando doesn't want. If I'm not mistaken in the spinoff Eco Moda Mario himself says that women only ever showed interest in him because they wanted to get close to Armando. Mario lives off of the crumbs of Armando, not only with women but socially. Armando is one of the major shareholders of Eco Moda, he's attractive, charismatic, and an important figure in society and not only among the Fashion world like Mario is. Mario Calderon wasn't going to let his best friend lose the title of being President for anything because than it would be bad for him. It would be bad for his reputation to have been his close friend and accomplice to Armando while also being a part of a disastrous presidency term in the company.

Mario is charismatic, one could even say a lot more than Armando seeing as I myself even like him even when I know all of this about his character. I find him funny, charming, and at times endearing but of course that's when you look at him on a surface level.

Mario Calderon is despicable. He is downright selfish and egocentric down to the bone. He maps out this plan so easily because he knows his two victims well. He has seen Armando's disagreements with Marcela, he has witnessed first hand Armando's change towards Betty and silently observed Betty's interactions with Armando. He himself has thrown out his conclusions on Betty's actions by a simple snip bits of conversation that he's either been in the room to hear or heard from Armando himself.

Who better to make Betty fall in love than Armando? Because Betty has those feelings there and who better to do be the one to do this than Armando? Not only because those feelings are there but because Armando can stomach the job. The man who is confused about his feelings and behaving erratically and emotionally driven than Armando?

Because Armando proposes for Calderon to do it. At first Calderon is grossed out by the idea but Armando presents everything telling him he isn't the boss, that he has no morals and he was perfect for the job. Mario agrees with all of that, even asks for a bigger percentage of shareholding and Armando agrees. This gives us the understanding that Mario would be willing to seduce Betty.

I realize this contradicts my own personal opinion that Armando agreed to do this because it meant he was saving Betty from Nicolas but lets remember that Armando was afraid to face those feelings and he wasn't even aware that they were there. Here Armando and Mario weren't talking about love, as he thinks Betty is so in love with Nicolas that he is her eternal love and that Nicolas would take advantage of that and poison her against them, they are talking about seduction, meaning seggsual. Which I've said before Armando thinks lust is love and therefore that if he ain't wanting to jump they bones in that instant that it cain't be love therefore my mans thought he had no feelings for Betty(idk why bc we do get two scenes where he checks her out briefly (I am sure of this because it's the episode where Betty tripped and was limping and when Mario brought it up Armando asked if she didn't already walk like that, if he had been noticing her walk than he would have been aware of the limp but his eyesight went from the top of Betty's head all the way down. Do with that information what you'd like :)) and where he gets jealous when Charlie Zas kissed her cheek(someone once said that they were celos de jefe and excuse me ma'am jealousy is jealousy and a normal boss would not feel that. If my boss or manager ever did that I woulda done been fired in that instant))

Take a break if you need it.

Okay return back to this scene.

While Calderon does this mila second rundown of Betty, Armando and him share a stare. Either Armando wants the room to himself or is looking at him for a confidence boost. Then Mario nods and lets him know he'll leave them be.

Armando sticks to the script by not removing his trust from Betty. Instead he encourages her and congratulates her on doing things well.

In this scene while Betty has been entirely focused on the work at hand and being professional Mario was busy assessing the situation while Armando... is hard to read here. He is keeping himself composed rather than being emotionally driven or erratic or neurotic. In truth he is showing one of his best traits so far, composure. When he is sure of what he wants to happen Armando is really good at keep composure, feelings at bay, and controlling the situation. Something he later loses as he begins to get more lost and confused in his own feelings and understanding them.

Betty here is endearing, honestly I find Betty endearing at all times lol. She's super cute and such a good sport since her character is written to capture your heart, not by sympathy but by empathy. Again just like Armando how are we not supposed to be affected by such a sweet character? Constantly putting her feelings aside for Armando's, who hasn't done that? We empathize with her because at some point or another we've been her and ironically it's the exact same reason why we sympathize and empathize with Armando because at some point or another we've all been there where we let the worse get the best of us and we've learned to live with it and deal with it same as he.

As Betty starts to leave the office Armando calls her name, stands up in a slow but steady way showing us that he is the one in control in this situation. His tone is controlled but not enough where you don't hear that resent.

"Betty you didn't hadn't told me you've got a boyfriend"

Betty looks taken aback by this behavior of his. As she stares at him a bit shocked and rocks on her feet, seeming uncomfortable with this but also worried.

Armando proceeds to say "and that that boyfriend is Nicolas Mora, your friend from university. The one you've got in Terra Moda" Notice how now there is a waiver in his voice and he no longer is being as composed or in control of his emotions. As he for split seconds allows those emotions of jealousy and possessiveness to sweep through his tone of voice.

In this scene Armando isn't so much giving us body language as he is stiff, showing nervousness and discomfort himself, often we see this whenever Marcela is interrogating him but he is giving us tonality in voice.

Again the sequence as he names the list of what and who Nicolas is shows priority. First, Nicolas is Betty's boyfriend, that guy she's talked about who she went to university with, and she's got him working in Terra Moda. His priority: Betty has a boyfriend. He knows who said boyfriend is and he knows what he does.

Betty tells him that she doesn't have a boyfriend: "Ay ay no Doctor, eso no es cierto." Betty normally has a waiver her voice whenever she's nervous or scared so it's not unlike her to have it here, she smiles and chuckles nervously. In translation what she says is lost so by interpretation this is what she said "Hmm? No sir... um that's not true."

Armando's tone is now accusing her. He seems angered by Betty's "denial" as he tells her "It's not true? I heard it-" we then get a frame of Betty's reaction. She is truly concerned over this as we later find out at the end of the day that she was worried that it could cause Don Armando to build distrust towards her. Again we are shown that Betty is keeping it all professional whilst Armando isn't.

"I heard when Bertha told you, right in front of me. [Y'all] started gossiping, didn't notice I was there. You both forgot about me, no Betty?"* He is shaking as if agitated and he sports a cocky smile because he feels like he caught her in her own lie.

[*]This could be taken in a double sense. In his eyes Betty was so excited about hearing that her "eternal love" called her that she forgot he was in the room and in a figurative way, Betty forgot him.

Betty's understanding of his behavior is rational. He's upset that she withheld vital information from him after she told him she had nothing else to hide(when he interrogated her the previous night) and this is related to a professional work related situation.

Armando now sports similar traits to that of Marcela when she is looking for reasons to act out on her anger. Armando is agitated as stated before and while Betty goes to explain herself Armando grabs his glass of whisky, not taking his eyes off Betty and drinks(cantinero, otro whisky!(Now his behavior here is very interesting because as he grabs the glass to drink from it he takes in a deep breath. At first I interpreted this for anger but after seeing it a few times I realize it's panic. While at first he was composed and sure of what he was feeling which was anger, now he is faced with uncertainty from feelings he doesn't recognize and he doesn't know where this conversation is going to head or how he'll react or feel so he enters panic mode)). She tells him that it was something the cuartel came up with because she once mentioned Nicolas and since then they haven't gotten it out of their heads that he is her boyfriend "I don't have anything with him."

Then relief starts to wash over him as Betty's final words are reassuring him that she doesn't have a boyfriend. In this frame Armando no longer has a drink in hand and he doesn't seem as tense as before.

"Definite? We're sure of that?"

Betty chuckles and nods and his tone of voice returns to being soft spoken and calm, even hopeful as he tells her "Okay, okay it was only curiosity." (What kind of curiosity tho?;))

Betty leaves his office and has a slight smile and was on the brink of a daydream when Sofia interupts her from doing that.

I have this dumb theory where Aura Maria and Freddy are in some way a parallel of Betty and Armando except that Aura Maria takes on the role of Armando while Freddy takes on the role of Betty and if y'all want I'll write a post explaining this.

Take a break if you need it.

Skip a scene we've got Armando interacting with Freddy. Usually everyone pays the burnt of Armando's anger and in this scene he looks anything but angry. He actually humors Freddy which allows us to know that after that conversation with Betty, he has one less problem(you know the one that topped all the others). He then laughs at Freddy(I find it ironic that Freddy told him that what Jenny and him have is strictly professional at which Armando laughs and repeats the same thing. The reason I find it ironic is because we as an audience know that what J & F have is not strictly professional and the conversation Armando just had with Betty wasn't strictly profession. In other words, Fernando Gaitan has a good sense of humor) and tells him to show him his lil dancy dance and leaves to go to Mario's Office.

When he enters his office he informs him he spoke to Betty about that infamous boyfriend.

"What did she say?" Mario asks.

"Well no, that she doesn't have a boyfriend." his smiles and says happily. He the catches him up on the gossip.

While Armando is now showing an array of emotion and excitement Mario is poker face, fidgeting with his pen and studying Armando.

He tells him "You know what this means? That I'm a happy man!" he chuckles and looks around the room as if really taking in the news and letting the relief settle in. "What a relief, finally some good news today, ah" he says the final part as if he were an italian chef. This lets us know that Armando is truthfully relieved to find out that Betty, his Betty is single and that he is still her special man.

In the previous post I talked about how Armando went about listening his excuses to start drinking early that day and how he basically went going from his smallest problem to the biggest one as he says that the one that topped all of his other problems was Betty having a boyfriend.

See, all his other problems were a cause of stress and anger, emotions he is very familiar with so they don't disconcert him however, jealousy or fear of losing Betty, are new territory for him that alone freaked him out but the fact Betty had a boyfriend was enough to just push the boy just close enough to the edge he needed a drink so early in the morning because it was anguish.

Mario tells him he has never seen him so relieved and happy to find out a woman doesn't have a boyfriend to which we pan out to see Armando roll his eyes and slouch against the chair, annoyed at Mario's insinuation once again.

Mario reminds him of the last time he saw that same expression on him which was when he found out some woman was separated from her husband. Armando then tells him not to diminish the good news because it meant Betty hadn't ommited any information from him.

To really bring this post to the full potential of it being analytical let us break this down.

Why was it important for him that Betty not omit information from him? Especially relating to something so personal and intimate of Betty's life outside of the office? (Again the argument that this is only about Eco Moda and Terra Moda are disproven in the previous post).

[EDIT: Sometimes as I write I've got two ideas at the same time and forget to finish writing them. It wasn't only important for the reasons mentioned below but because he does in fact want to know more about Betty as he later tells Bertha the same thing].

Armando went through the five stages of grief.

Anger, denial, anger, denial, more denial, and then moving on.

He did not accept that Betty had a boyfriend therefore when she told him she didn't he fully believed her, didn't ask more questions.

For Armando Betty's character means a lot. I don't mean the individual personification of Betty as a fictional character in this novela I mean as in her inner self and what she represent. To him Betty represent stability, comfort, unconditionality, honesty, and most of all fidelity and loyalty and the last three qualities are what he is always naming. If she withheld something from him it would mean that Betty was no longer that. She no longer would be an object of reassurance and comfort but like everyone else she'd become an unpredictable and untrustworthy individual in his life. Some one more that he needed to keep at arm's length or pretend around.

Armando has gotten a taste of being around someone who doesn't judge him when he is himself and doesn't hold it over him when he makes mistakes based on his neurotic nature or anger issues. Instead he has been around someone who understand he's like that, someone who is patient and knows how to call him out on it and how to handle his erratic behavior so he has learned to let his guard down little by little and found a niche of comfort in his assistant but if she lied to him it would take all of that away. It would be betrayal in his eyes.

That's why it was so important to him that Betty didn't keep secret from him. Especially seeing as they were forming a friendship that was based on honesty and respect towards each other. This explains why that was important to him. It's important for him to have trust in her.

However we ain't kidding anyone because his reaction was possessive over Betty because Betty has given all of these things to Armando, who has never really received them without some fine print, and he doesn't want to share her with anyone else. This is possessiveness and it is not love or romantic. It is a toxic trait because not one person belongs to someone and Armando feels that Betty belongs to him. Be it romantically, platonically, or work related, a person is a human being and they do not belong as an object or property to anyone.

Armando is a very emotionally immature individual and this shows us that.

Mario then proceeds to be his classical self, which is to sow the seed of paranoia in his best friend as he starts to point out that her friends wouldn't be saying that if Betty hadn't given them a reason. His hands clasped in front of him show a position of power. Right now he is holding the cards and he is well aware of that.

Right as he see the reaction he wanted from Armando he leaves him to ferment so to speak in the paranoia he has left in him. Armando becomes nervous all over again and susceptible to it.

He is left with himself and he says "Y quien es el.." now if you're hispanic or latino you'll find the humor in how that scene ends as he starts to sing in a sorrowful tone a very romantic and a song that I'd say most listen to when dealing with a break up "y en que lugar se enamoro de ti?"

Which translate to "And what is he like? and in what place did he fall in love with you?"

I won't read too much into that as I'm sure it was written in for humor or added in for the humor effect as we've had some pretty heavy emotionally driven scenes in this episode but I do think it's an ironic placement of humor.

Now to bring the final scene that I will be discussing regarding Armando finding out about Betty's boyfriend we come full circle with Armando asking Bertha about it.

He acts charismatic, composed and professional to get Bertha to talk to him.

"The subject is the following: I've got a long time working with Betty and It's just until now that I find out she's got boyfriend. Do you know who he is?"

"Well like really know? No, because she's so reserved"

He then with a pierced mouth nods. Again those feelings are creeping back up. I get it. He's feeling paranoia, distrust, betrayed, hurt, offended, scared, jealous, possessive and angry but this proves what I mentioned about Armando having his guard up at all times because he doesn't show any of this to Bertha, at least not enough where she picks up but because we as an audience are given so much detail regarding his character, we can.

Quickly he asks her "And you don't know how long she's been dating him?" brings us full circle again. The same tone he had with Betty when he told her that he was in the same room as her when Bertha said that she had a boyfriend, minus the smirk and actual reaction of his, once again proves that Armando knows when to show his reaction and how to be in control and composed.

Bertha proceeds to tell him the "actual" story in which she tells him "dating dating? No, but he does have her eating from the palm of his hand because she's stupidly in love with him." and we hear Armando gasp and say "No." we then get a frame of his face which shows us... the opiset of happiness, joy, relief, tranquility, peace, serenity but with someone trying to be composed.

Bertha tells him that Mariana read her the cards and said that he was Betty's dream man and that he was going to change her life and she was going to change his life. I don't care for that but for the sake of this breakdown I'll mention it.

We know that Betty's dream man is Armando, not Nicolas. However everyone else thinks it's Nicolas. Armando's facial expression shows someone once again panicking.

He not only finds out that Betty has boyfriend, now it turns out she didn't just omit something from him but lied when he asked her and to top it off she so happens to be stupidly in love with him and on top of all of that he is Betty's dream man and to finish it off, he will change her life and she will change his life in the mildest of riches, meaning with Betty becoming the sole owner of Eco Moda and Terra Moda, making her rish rish $$$.

This is when it no longer is just about his mixed up feelings for Betty but now the entire livelihood of his family and everyone that works for Eco Moda.

Eco Moda is Armando's pride and joy. He does love that company which is why he started that scheme in the first place because he didn't want to lose it, let his father down, prove Daniel right, and throw away 30 plus year of his father's work and life time(Also as we're told because of his goals). The company means a great deal to him and in ways he's not aware of yet, so does Betty.

However someone is aware of this, not to the deep knowledge that Armando has regarding whatever he thinks he is feels towards Betty but they've got some sort of idea regarding this and they innact and come up with a plan to secure the company, the presidency, and his statues and reputation.

Step one: Tell Armando that he needs to make Betty fall in love with him to secure the company. Women in love will do anything for the one they love therefore if he beats Nicolas to the goal we secure the company. It worked with Paty(he's stupid so his logic doesn't work)

Step two: Convince Armando that he is the right candidate for the job. If that doesn't work, manipulate him with paranoia and make him fear Betty. If that doesn't work, tell him you were sure that Betty was in love with him before you found out about Nicolas.

Step three: Tell Armando I will be in charge of all the corny details because he will freak out and get way over his head and ruin the plan.

Step four: make fun of him.

Step five: Go on a trip and write a letter that explains the entire plan in detail and leave it on my desk without telling my secretary to not let anyone touch it or go near it except Armando so that she can go into my office, and I know how she likes to be nosy, and she can then think it's in the wrong office and give it to her assistant who takes care of all of his stuff, literally, and she finds it, reads it and does exactly what I was afraid of and made my best friend afraid of as well and that will then bring her downfall, his downfall, therefore the entire company's downfall.

Step six: never realize how stupid I am or take full accountability for it and apologize sincerely for all the wrong and harm I have caused.

Obviously I'm not saying Armando is innocent or that he didn't do anything wrong. He did. He allowed his best friend to manipulate him when he said he wouldn't listen to him again(the panama thing), he allowed his best friend to make fun of Betty and was a coward to admit his true feelings not only to himself but to his best friend. He was a willing(felt guilty for it but nonetheless willing) participant in the plan.

By now breaking down these past episodes and scenes allows us to understand where Armando was coming from so we can sympathize just a bit for him and his confusion and how he was so easily manipulated by Mario, however this doesn't mean he isn't guilty. At the start of it he too to some degree thought no one could love Betty, (yes we later find out that he did care for her as he tells Mario that he feels endearment for Betty and he looks relieved to find that out. I will be breaking down that scene when I get to it) because of her physicality (I already talked about this but when the time is right I will go into deep detail regarding this part of Armando's character).

It is eleven AM. I have been writing this post for the past seven hours and I am beat and tired. I hope this makes sense.

Once again, 'til next time.

HAHAHA OKAY I FORGOT TO ADD SOME COMMENTARY ON THE REST OF THIS SCENE.

[Edit:

Bertha proceeds to tease Armando about him liking gossip and being Nosey. He gets annoyed at her but in order to get the information he wants he stays composed and tells her that he just wants to know about Betty.

"It's not that[I like gossip], it's just that this is about someone who is really close to me everyday-who I work really close with- and truth be told I am a little curious about Betty's life. You know, one just imagine her a little ugly and with boyfriend...? You know? Why don't you tell me the whole thing?"

At first he is a being defensive while trying to justify the fact he is being nosey. His tone then changes to endearing as he tells her "truth be told I am a little curious about Betty's life." and his face goes along with the tone as he says "you know, one just imagines her a little ugly-" he catches himself and say "and with boyfriend...?"

Overall what we have learned here is that Armando is really good at dismissing his feelings on the spot, suppressing them, and running away from them(I too do that and it's a pain in the butt). He does this as a sport.

Bertha then tells him "The thing is that Betty doesn't like it much for you to know about her private life." and this again offends Armando as he straightens his face and stares at Bertha in shock and as Bertha says "How is it, Sir..." and he quickly sits down to listen to her. "that this morning when we left your office she pulled me aside and told me that she didn't want you to know about her intimate life?" he rubs his chin, eyes still on Bertha and whispers "Really?"

Armando knows that Bertha can't tell half a gossip so instead of asking her to keeping telling him, practically begging her to tell him the whole scoop he manipulates her by saying "If this is going to cause problems then don't tell me. Let's leave it as is, Bertha, thank you." his tone is somber to tug at her strings, how could she possibly leave this man curious over this juicy gossip? and how could she not tell the whole story? Especially because it's her boss?

Bertha chuckles and tells him that she, of course is going to tell him, that she is dying to tell him. Armando then tells her "Well then if this is between us two it doesn't leave the planet, go on, tell me how did it go?"

Armando starts to bit his nail as he listen to Bertha start from the beginning.

She tells him word for word what Mariana said about Betty's dream man. She's obviously describing Armando, but to everyone else that's Nicolas, so the impression or idea that Armando now has of Nicolas is that he isn't some loser or nerd or some nobody but he is an important man who is the type of man woman lust over. They will have an intense relationship that will be strong and that the man is fundamental for her life.

This describes a man that is both important and that will be for sure in Betty's life.

Now Bertha goes on to describe the man Betty told them about. He is desired by woman,tall, handsome, strong, isn't rich but has money, has a big car, and his name is Nicolas Mora. However Betty clearifies that she has nothing going on with him, that she just likes him and she feels a strong attraction to him but that nothing has happened between them.

Then Mariana tells her that something will happen because it will change both of their lives.

Take into account that though Betty's life in a personal aspect hasn't changed much in the professional aspect it has. She's got a respectable job, a boss who values her work ethic and her enough to hand over his company which means she's could be rich. She's abandon some of her morals to collaborate with her scheming boss and is doing things that aren't morally correct.

Armando's life has changed not only professionally but personally. For one he's begun to let his guard down and given more of himself to a woman he isn't in a relationship or knowingly attracted to, his relationship with Marcela is only getting worse and Betty is usually the center of their biggest fights, he has now built a friendship with said woman built on trust and respect, something he has never done with any other woman and of course professionally he has sunken his and his family's company into debt.

I'd say Armando's life is changing a lot and that's not even the peak of it. Betty's life is also changing a lot and they haven't even started dating.

Armando is aware of how Betty's life is changing on a work related level so he obviously believes everything Bertha is telling him because he knows things she doesn't know.

Impatiently and annoyed Armando tells Bertha to explain what she means by "it's going to change their lives." which again since he "knows" things Bertha doesn't, therefore Tweedledum has sowed the seed of paranoia and Tweedledee has given it the perfect terrain for it to flourish so Armando is now listening to Mario's voice that Betty could turn against them though the important thing to note here is that Armando isn't mistrusting of Betty instead he is really mistrusting of Nicolas, because again, who could really fall in love with "ugly" betty. Except that's a joke on it's own because the idiot was already having feelings for her.

They are interrupted by Guti Guti and this is where I will end this post.

Truthfully until next time. ]

#analysis of ysblf #armando mendoza #armando ysblf #don armando #mario calderon #betty pinzón solano #betty ysblf #betty la fea #ysblf #yo soy betty la fea

[ladyeliot]

Before we go (Part two)

Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4

Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your company has sent you to Boston to close a deal on the same day you have the most important date of your life at night in New York. Things get complicated, you can’t return to New York and you have to spend the night in Boston with a complete stranger.

Warning: Fluff.

Word count: 3105

Notes: English is not my native language, sorry for the mistakes.

On many occasions you have asked yourself if it makes sense to live life without love, to go on this journey without ever having fallen deeply in love. There was a time when you thought that without it, life would hardly make sense, but without knowing when and why it stopped being important to you.

You would never have believed the words that would have told you that you would be at eleven o'clock that Sunday night walking the streets of the city of Boston. An idyllic scene for a romantic movie, wandering the streets aimlessly with a stranger would be the perfect plot for any novel ending with a kiss, but it was obvious that it wasn't going to happen.

You were walking beside that young man, called Chris, but even though your body was present, your head was still scheming for solutions. It was impossible to get your belongings until the next morning, when Hackney's lost property division opened at 8:00 a.m., but that didn't matter because you expected to be in New York by that time, so that option was out of the question. The only option was that there was a friendly taxi driver who was willing to drive you to New York for free until you reached your destination. Thinking about it, the drive to New York was about 4 hours, Michael's plane left at 7:00 a.m. from JFK airport, so that gave you a minimum of 3 hours to find the taxi driver.

"We can make it," encouraged the perfect stranger next to you. "We have until 2:00 a.m. to find someone willing to drive you to New York."

"Did you just speak in the plural?" you asked curiously. "You definitely don't have anything better to do tonight."

"Not quite," Chris smiled opening the door to the coffee shop, you had arrived at your destination. "Good evening Perry."

"But what do my eyes see?" he exclaimed stepping out from the bar and offering Chris an energetic hug, "What are you doing here man?"

"You know, I've missed your pizzas mate," he said, pulling away from him.

"I'm glad to hear that," the waiter glanced at you and back at Chris. "The usual table?"

"You know me," he smiled making a small motion with his head for you to pass in front of him.

The atmosphere was cosy, with an industrial feel to it, but you could breathe in the warmth accompanied with a hint of melted cheese, which caused your stomach to work up an appetite. Some of the surrounding tables, who had already finished their dinner, turned their attention to your companion just as you passed, but you didn't ask any questions about it. Your table was somewhat out of sight of the others, tucked away in a small corner surrounded by curious black and white photographs that seemed to tell the story of the city you were in.

"Here you are," the waiter concluded, offering you the letter, but Chris handed it back to him as he received it.

"You know what I'll have," he said, shedding his navy blue jacket.

"All right, a Neapolitan pizza," commented the waiter, making a note on a small tablet in his hands.

You quickly looked at the menu, a bit stunned by the amount of variety of pizzas and burgers that the place had, so you definitely opted to trust the order that your companion had asked for and agreed to have the same as him.

"You guys will have it in a minute," he remarked with a smile. "Enjoy your evening."

"Thanks mate." Chris said before he left, then took a breath, focused his gaze on you and intertwined his fingers. "Alright, are you going to tell me why you need to get to New York tonight?"

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the last thing you wanted to do was tell your sad story to a stranger, no matter how much he was doing his part to help you that night. You opted to shrug your shoulders and perhaps offer a brief description of the situation, without going into too much detail.

"There's someone who needs me to come tonight," you explained, playing with your fingernails, without looking at him, "and that person is leaving first thing tomorrow morning."

"I understand," he said, resting his barrette in his palm. "Then you must get to New York before he leaves."

"He?" you repeated somewhat confused. "I never said at any time that it was a man."

"Oh, I'm sorry, or her," he quickly rectified. "What I do know is that you are probably referring to the person responsible for that mark on your left ring finger."

You quickly averted your gaze to your ring finger, a white mark indicating that you had worn a ring on that finger could be glimpsed. Yes, it was true, you had worn it, an engagement ring, from an engagement that was never formalised. You frowned, you were going to tell him that he had no idea, but at that moment the waiter came back to bring you drinks.

"Water and beer," he said, placing it on the table. "Ah, man, I'm sorry to ask you this, but could you sign a comic book for my niece afterwards? She's in love with you, you know."

Those words caught your attention somewhat, sign a comic book? Was he an illustrator, or maybe a writer? Curiosity again invaded your body, apparently you were not the only person who was hiding information in this strange relationship that had just emerged a couple of hours ago.

"That's for sure my friend!" he exclaimed before you were left alone again.

"What about that?" you asked pointing to the waiter who had just left. "Are you in the comic book business?"

"Something like that," he said playing with the beer bottle, but without answering your question. "And what do you do? What are you doing in Boston?"

"Trying to escape," you said, refilling the glass of water. "I asked first."

"Fair enough," he took a small swig of beer. "Let's just say a lot of my time is acting."

"Actor?" You arched an entirely curious eyebrow. "Theatre?"

"Cinema," he stressed somewhat hesitantly, as if he didn't want to say it out loud.

"And comics?" you pointed to the right again, remembering the conversation with the waiter.

"It's because of one of the characters I play," he explained, playing it down a bit. "Marvel?" he asked hoping your brain would find a similarity.  "Captain America?"

"Sorry, I know the character, yes," you said with a chuckle, as you couldn't find connections between the guy in front of you and what he was explaining, "but to be completely honest with you I don't watch too much TV, or go to the movies, or am much of a comic book fan."

"I have to admit that it's a relief in part," he confessed, picking up the beer bottle again. "Now I know this isn't all a sham to take me out to dinner."

"Excuse me?" you exclaimed with a laugh.

"I'm kidding," he laughed along with you, but at that moment the waiter brought your dinner.

You had to assume that the pizza looked exquisite, and after weeks of eating convenience food, it was a delicacy in front of your eyes.

"So you're in Boston for work?" you asked curiously, breaking your pizza into slices.

"Not exactly," he said hesitantly. "I was born in Boston, I usually come here for seasons, well not here exactly, in Sudbury, it's about forty minutes out of town. But on this occasion I came because tonight was a friend's engagement party."

"And what exactly are you doing here with me?" you asked squinting, very confused at the situation.

"It's complicated," he said taking a sip of beer. "Your turn."

"Okay," you nodded to yourself, taking a breath. "I work for a large multinational in New York, a hub for the finance sector, specifically I'm the head of external relations, so I'm constantly on the road. This morning I was in Boston to close a deal with two new shareholders."

"That sounds very..."

"Boring, I know," you finished his words, over time you had assumed that your life was completely linear, without any extra motivation.

"I was going to say important," he rectified, smiling at you. "Do you like your job?"

The question of the century. How many times could you have asked that question without giving yourself an honest answer.

"Sure," you said without thinking. "Well, I guess it won't be as exciting as yours, but... it's practical."

"Wait, did you just say 'practical'?"

That was the first time during the whole day that you were able to disconnect from your surroundings, forgetting the worries, the problems that were running inside you, it was just you having a pleasant conversation with a person who seemed to show interest in your opinions, in what you thought, a person who listened with interest to your every word. You could hardly remember the last time someone had managed to extract a hearty laugh from inside you, it was nice when he did. The minutes ticked by and you didn't notice that the clock read 00:12am, but when you did, the mood cooled again and you became aware of the situation.

You opted to resume your walk through the streets of Boston, your vigour waning as the time passed, you were no longer so confident that you could carry out your plan, and although Chris was offering you numerous possibilities none of them seemed feasible with the little time you had left.

"It's impossible," you said, raising your arms and stopping in the middle of the pavement. "It's over, it's 1am, I wouldn't make it even if I had a car at my disposal. The only thing that would save me from this situation would be a time machine."

Chris looked at you thoughtfully, with a small smile on his face, which made you wonder what was going through his mind at that very moment. You had discovered that inside him there seemed to be nothing but positivity and answers to all your questions, which unsettled you a little but you also knew it was what you needed most at the moment.

"What?" you asked.

"Come on!" he exclaimed grabbing your arm and guiding you to the side of the enclosure. "It's your lucky night, we have a time machine."

"What?" you asked again, running face first into a public phone.

"It is said that the pay phones in Boston allow you to travel through time," he explained, taking the handset and offering it to you. "It's as easy as dialling the date you want to travel to and you can talk to your past self, tell it everything you need it to do, or not do, thus changing your past." You looked at him amusedly confused, with a quizzical expression on your face.

"Go on, try it! It's fun. I do it every time I come to town."

"Well... I don't really need to call very far, it's enough to get in touch with my yesterday self," you explained taking the handset from his hand and slowly bringing it to your ear.

"Well, let's give it a try then," Chris dialed four digits accompanied by some sounds coming from his mouth that made you smile again. "Beep, bop, beep, bop, bop. Ready! What would you like to say to yourself?"

"Here I go..." you said, encouraging yourself. "Y/N? Hi, it's me... that's you, from the future." You couldn't help but smile and shake your head. "She doesn't believe me."

"Y/N?" he asked curiously finding out what your real name was. "What happened with Adriana?"

"Well, I can't go offering all my details to strangers," you defended yourself somewhat embarrassed at the situation.

"Understandable, in my case Chris is my real name," he laughed and shook his head, which turned your lips into a smile. "Well, it's normal that she doesn't believe you," he shrugged, returning to the conversation. "It happens the first few times. You have to tell her something that only the two of you can know."

"Hm... Y/N?" you thought to yourself. "Oh, remember Mum's blue dress that we loved so much? Remember the last time we tried it on at home, when we were walking down the stairs and it ripped, and we had to get rid of it? We never told anyone what happened, mum thought it got lost in the move to the new neighbourhood..."

Chris was watching you leaning on the payphone with a tender smile on his lips, but you were too abstracted from your surroundings to notice. He realised that he could easily manage to alleviate all the problems that enveloped you even if he hardly knew what exactly they were.

"She believes me," you said, looking at Chris and covering the receiver with your hand, as if there was someone waiting on the line.

"Great," he raised his arms. "Now just tell him whatever you need to tell her."

You took a breath, as if this really was a turning point in your life and you could change the course of things. Your companion paid attention to the words that were about to come out of you in the next few moments.

"Y/N?" you asked through the earpiece. "Listen, I know that tomorrow is going to be a very important day for you, you have a trip to Boston that can get you a big development in the company and you also have a date with Michael in the evening. I'm not going to tell you what you should or shouldn't do, only you can be the only person to make the best decision, but what I am going to ask you is that if you could only choose one of the two things which one would you go with?" you were silent for a moment posing the question to yourself. "See you soon.”

After saying those words carefully you put the phone back in its place. Chris slowly stroked his lips, looking at you thoughtfully, trying to understand a little of the situation you were in at the moment.

"Did she tell you what she was going to decide? Whether to go to Boston or..."

"No," you said, leaning against the pay phone yourself. "She wasn't sure." You looked at him silently. "What about you? Have you decided if you're going to the party?"

"No," he ducked his chin and shook his head.

"You at least have your chance in your hands," you explained, being for the first time during the night the person who was trying to help him. "I think you should go back and be on your way, before I continue to ruin your night.

"The truth is, I missed that opportunity a long time ago."  Just as he had done a couple of minutes ago, you tried to get a glimpse of what those words meant, but neither of us had succeeded yet. "Besides, you're not ruining my night, on the contrary, I've never had a night like this before." He rested his chin on his hand. "So what do you want to do now?"

You let your gaze wander, you knew what you had to do before continuing with the situation, you had never given anything up until the last moment, but this was completely different. After asking your past self that question you had realised one of the most important things you had forgotten over time. It was true that you had been completely in love with Michael, that you thought he was the man of your life and that you wanted to spend the rest of your days by his side. On the other hand, since your childhood you had struggled to get a job like the one you had, to be able to use your full potential in a job that fulfilled you. Those two things were now on your mind, and you had realised that the third of them, perhaps the most important, you were not doing, which was to love yourself, to have time for yourself, to seize the moment, to laugh, to dream, to enjoy life, that was all you were missing.

"I think I know what I want to do right now," you said, nodding to yourself. "Would you have any spare cash? I promise I'll pay you all back."

"Oh, come on!" he said shaking his head and offering you a couple of coins in the palm of his hand.

You took a couple of dollars and inserted them into the pay phone in front of you, Chris provided you with your private space, stepping a couple of metres away from the spot. The phone began to ring, at the same time as your stomach informed you of the nervousness you were feeling, which increased when you heard Michael's voice through the receiver.

"Hi, it's me," you said almost in a whisper. "No, I'm still in Boston. [...] I know, the truth is I've had a setback, I didn't call you earlier because I thought I could work it out. [...] No, I have to wait for the first train to leave. [...] At 6 o'clock in the morning, so... [...] I know. [...] All right. [...] Yeah, I'll call you when I get home. [...] I hope you have a good flight."

Maybe it would be for the best, was fate playing in your favour? All you knew was that you planned to tell him how much you missed him, and that you were willing to fight for him again, but things weren't going the way you thought they would.

"Are you okay?" asked Chris approaching you again.

"Yeah," you nodded, looking into his eyes. "Maybe it's for the best."

The smooth line of your life that night was tapping into a wealth of emotions, evolving from despair, anger, joy and now sadness again, and it was your turn to share them with a perfect stranger.

"Come on," Chris offered you his arm and you wearily took it, walking aimlessly away through the streets of Boston.

To be continued...

Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4

Taglist Open (DM)

MAIN MASTERLIST

#chris evans x reader #chris evans #female reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans imagine #imagines #chris evans fluff #fluff #masterlis #one shot #one-shot #edit #ff #fanfic #fan fiction #marvel #avengers #steve rogers x reader #angst #before we go #nick vaughan #nick vaughan x reader #brooke dalton #movie #film

[jae-daddy]

Duff (3)

jaebum au series

one / two  / three / four masterlist  

gifsource: @magiccastles​ 

pairing: im jaebum x reader genre: angst, smut, cheating, CEO! i guess too now plot:  you are the duff, and guys use you to get close to your bestfriend, turns out jaebum was no exception. but as time goes on the tension between you and your bestfriend’s unoffical boyfriend grows a/n: this is as much as a ride for me as it is for you lol. i just start writing and let words take me somewhere and then i just say i guess that’s it in the end. hope y’all enjoy it <3 not edited.

“Did you hear,” Naina crept up behind you, making you jump slightly. She laughed before shooting you a cheeky grin and continuing, “the Chairman’s son is joining the office today?”

“Really?” You turned to her, as you waited for the papers to copy behind you.

You weren’t that interested, all you wanted to do was get out of here and rest for a bit before starting on your assignment due next week. This internship was really time-consuming, but you couldn’t really complain because so many other students would kill to work at this firm.

“A hundred per cent. I know he’s rich and all that,” she waved her hands around hastily to show how none of that mattered. “But that is not what makes him attractive. He actually looks good. Apparently, he was a delinquent, and is just returning home after starting up a new business.”

“He’s still the boss’ son,” you scrunched your face in distaste. While the old man was a dilf, you hated nepotism, and people only giving opportunities to those who had ample of it.

“He was scouted,” Naina pouted defensively.

“How do you know?” You shot her a pointed look, as the machine stopping whirring.

“The process was done by the shareholders and the Society, and you know how much they hate Chairman. Apparently, they didn’t know it was him when they scouted him,” Naina shrugged as she loaded her papers. “They had to chase him for almost five months before he agreed to a trial period.”

“A trial period?” Your eyebrows rose in surprise. You couldn’t deny that whoever the Chairman’s son was sounded pretty impressive, maybe you were being too prejudice.

You bit your lip as you watched Naina for a while, “Well, let’s hope he actually is a hottie. Who told you all this by the way?”

Naina turned to you with an apologetic look, “Pam.”

“Alright,” you rolled your eyes, walking away. Pam was notorious for her horrible taste in men.

“Hey y/n,” a head popped over your cubicle, making you look up tiredly. Your eyes wandered to the clock, one more hour left. “You’re needed in the conference room.”

“Note-taking?” You asked, getting up. The guy just shrugged before walking off.

You knocked on the door before entering the conference room, to find all the shareholders and the Chairman sitting around a table. You found Nina signalling you to come over.

“I bought my note-taking things,” you told Nina as you sat down beside her. You scanned the room to find impatient old men mumbling quietly to each other. “What’s going on?”

“They’re waiting for the new Director to show up,” Nina replied, her voice low as she leaned in. “He’s forty-five minutes late already.”

You shot her a surprised look before frowning, “It doesn’t look like anything much is happening here. Why was I called in?”

Nina just shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know, Connor called for you, but he looks preoccupied.”

You looked over to your supervisor who was on the phone, a pained expression on his face evident on his face. You watched as he shut his phone before walking in hurried and long strides.

“I have to apologise, gentlemen,” Connor stopped at the front of the table, his actions anxious, but his voice steady. “But looks like the new Director, unfortunately, cannot meet us today, an emergency has occurred. He does send his apologies.”

The men, who you would have expected to be fuming, just nodded with understanding.

You were confused.

Instead of the shareholders, it was the Chairman who seemed to be fuming.

Before anyone could say anything else, he got up and walked out of the room. The others didn’t say anything or object, they just broke into little groups conversing. The meeting was over without achieving the goal but without any conflict.

“I guess it’s over,” Nina got up, brushing her skirt straight. You followed her actions, your eyes catching the clock.

“There are only twenty minutes left,” you peered at her with a pleading look. “May I have an early leave?”

Her eyes darted to Connor who was engaged in a very serious conversation and then back at your pleading face. “Okay, but if anyone asks, you had an emergency.”

“Yeah, I guess emergencies are easily accepted in this company these days,” you joked, making Nina spank your arm playfully.

It didn’t take you long to gather your things and get out of the building. You had been working here for just over two months, but you could navigate the building with your eyes closed. Your gaze was on your phone, checking for any updates from your team members for the upcoming project. Disappointment filled you once again when you saw endless bubbles of excuses dotting the group chat.

You sighed, reaching for the button to call the elevator when your fingers touched another.

“Oh my gosh,” you pulled your hand back on reflex, as you looked up. “I’m sorry.”

But as soon as your eyes met those glowing brown ones, you wished you could reel back the apology that fell from your lips. Your face turned into a sneer as you glared at him, “What are you doing here?”

Jaebum smirked at you in his signature cocky way. You hated how it made your core tingle, but at the same time made your blood boil. But the anger didn’t always mean to come out in violence. It begged to out in some ways so deviant, that you’d rather punch his arrogant smirk off than do things that to him that your mind imagined.

“You're stalking me now?” You folded your arms as you snorted at him. “Or did you get in trouble and need help now?”

“This is a financial firm, love,” Jaebum smiled at you, his arrogance taking over his entire being.

“Committed fraud then.” You bit back, thanking the elevator doors as they opened. You quickly walked in and pressed the closed button as Jaebum’s eyes watched at you. “Catch the next one, love.”

The doors were almost shut when he jammed his arm in the way. You winced as the doors clamped against him before opening slowly. You quickly masked your concern with annoyance as he strutted in holding his forearm.

You wanted to say something but bit your tongue as you rolled your eyes. In the end, you couldn’t hold yourself back, “You could’ve just waited for the next one.”

Jaebum smiled at you, knowingly. You hated it when he did that. He smiled at you, his brown eyes sparkling with humour as if he could see through you, and knew exactly what was going on in your head.

“I guess I’m a fool then.”

Your sharp eyes met his soft ones. You held them for a moment, your eyes blazing as you tried to figure out what he was doing. You knew why he said that.

He wasn’t a complete idiot then if he actually realised what you meant. He was a fool. He still is a fool. But him admitting it doesn’t undo what he had done. That he had chosen Heather over you, that he had screwed Heather.

You didn’t know what he was doing, what his game was. Did he have a sick fetish of doing friends? And then try to convince them into a threesome?

Your face must’ve revealed the disgust you were feeling because Jaebum laughed after a moment.

“What?” He smiled carefree leaning against the wall. You hated how unbelievably attractive he looked, even under these hideous fluorescent lights, Im Jaebum managed to look like the sexiest guy to have ever walked on this Earth.

You realised his normal piercings were missing. You watched as his tongue darted out from his pink lips, going to the familiar place where the lip ring would normally rest. He touched the ghost of it, his lips quirked and he just licked his lips before lifting an eyebrow.

“Where are your accessories?” You asked, you hated how haughty you sounded, but you couldn’t help yourself. Jaebum somehow bought out the worst in you.

Jaebum grinned, biting his lips as if holding in a secretive laugh.

“I had to look professional, y/n.”

You groaned internally. You hated it more when he said your name so freaking sexily.

You wanted to hear him say it again and again. Say it with other dirty words that would leave his sinful lips as he thrust into you, as he pulled your hair. Say it as you took your time devouring his cock, whimper it as you made him beg for his release. You wanted to hear him moan it as he captured your lips in his, and pushed you against the wall.

Suddenly the elevator started to feel hot; the metal box becoming too small.

You quickly reached for the button, pressing it to open on the next floor.

You turned your back towards him, facing the doors.

You core tightened, as heat rose to your face.

You couldn’t stop imaging. You couldn’t stop thinking all the things that could happen in this stupid small little metal box. You couldn’t stop thinking about how the cool metal would feel against your back, against your bare breast as he pushed you against them while he pounded into you from behind.

Oh god. You needed to get out. Now. You furiously pressed the button a few more times, before standing right.

And then the lights flickered, the machines groaned. The lights blinked off, and the elevator stopped.

This was a literal nightmare. This wasn’t real.

You had to be dreaming for sure. This was all a dream, had to be one.

“Y/n!” You heard Jaebum’s panicked voice. You found feel him swimming through the darkness, his arms flailing around trying to find you.

“I’m here,” you called, walking next to him.

You were worried, but it was nothing compared to the shaking body you collided into.

“Jaebum?” You grabbed his cold hands in yours. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t say anything, but you could feel him move.

“Okay,” you softly told him. “It’s okay, let's move backwards, okay? Until we hit the wall?”

He didn’t answer, but a disturbed meek left him, and you took that as a yes. Once your backs hit the wall, you began sliding down, bringing him down next to you.

Jaebum sat so close, his entire side was pressed against yours. He didn’t move away, but neither did you. You didn’t take your hand away from Jaebum gripped it as if his life depended on it.

You reached into your pocket, pulling out your phone. You turned on the flashlight and turned it towards Jaebum. He grunted, bringing a hand up to shield himself from the harsh light.

“Sorry,” you murmured, turning it to face the front. The light bounced off the shiny walls bringing in some light. “Are you better now?”

Jaebum nodded, and this time you could see.

“I need to press the emergency button,” you told him looking over at him. He just nodded, his eyes focusing on something, but his hands still grasping yours.

You slowly got up, still not talking your hand from his as you pressed the button. You had the ring for a few seconds, and then someone picked up.

“Hello?” you called, “We’re stuck in elevator 3.”

“We’re working on it,” the gruff voice replayed. “It won’t take long. How many are in the elevatory?”

“Just two people.”

“A'ight, wait a minute.” And then the line went dead and remained that way for almost twenty minutes.

“What’s taking those shitheads so fucking long?” Jaebum finally spoke breaking the silence that fell between you two. His hand still clutching yours. “You would expect a place like this to at least have a backup or faster services. But I guess not. Just a shithole company in this stupid place.”

He was talking nonsense. His words losing meaning as more angry and panicked words left him.

You gave his hand a little squeeze, and he stopped.

Jaebum turned to look at you, and you gave him a small smile.

His eyes that normally glistened with playfulness were glazed with fear and anxiety as he peered at you. He tried to give your smile back, but it came out as a nervous tightlipped look of panic.

“So, Im Jaebum,” you snorted lightly. Jaebum watched at you, his nervous eyes on you as if you were the only thing keeping him calm. And you were ready to bet that you were. “What’s your favourite season?”

“Really?” He snorted, the tiniest hint of his normal arrogance returning to his voice. “That’s what you want to talk about before we die?”

You bit back your laugh and shot him a glare.

“Summer,” he answered gruffly.

You nodded, humming “Summer.”

“You are someone who enjoys being happy.” Jaebum rolled his eyes at that. “You seek happiness, you like thinking back to good memories instead of bad ones. You don’t have many regrets and the ones you have don’t last for long because you rectify them as soon as you realise. You like being shown love, affection; the more you receive it, the more you thrive. You cherish friendship and loyalty above all, but not really because of the person. The person can change, but the memories you share with them is what keeps your loyalty going.”

Jaebum just snorted as he ran his free hand through his hair. The soft strands falling in all directions as he snickered at you, “Where’d you steal that from? Buzzfeed quizzes?”

“Hey!” You hit his arm in spite, a pout on your lips with full offence. “I came up with that myself! I have one for all seasons.”

Jaebum just laughed, and you tried your best to suppress the smile on your lips.

“What about the rest,” Jaebum asked after a long moment, “How would you describe the rest?”

“What you like is what you get,” you shrugged smugly.

“So what are you?” He asked, his eyes watching you intently.

“I’m Autumn,” your cheeks heated under his gaze. You prayed your blush was covered in the darkness. You gulped nervously when you felt him not look away. “And Heather! She’s a summer too.”

Jaebum hummed in reply, finally looking away.

“Okay, what’s your favourite number?” Jaebum asked.

“Two.”

“No! Don’t tell me! Do it again,” he groaned, making you chuckle at his silliness. You nodded, thinking of a number. “Okay now add two to it.”

You bit the inside of your cheeks to stop yourself from smiling like a complete idiot at how adorable he was being. You knew exactly what he was doing, but you didn’t have it in you to stop him when he sounded so eager.

“Okay, now minus it by the number you first thought of,” he told you watching you with a grin. You nodded, telling him you were done. “Add five, minus two.

“The number you are left with is,” he grinned at you, and this time you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling seeing his happiness. “Five!”

“Oh my god!” You faked, the smile not going anywhere. “How did you know?!”

“Magic,” he shrugged, smiling so proudly. But that smile didn’t last long as the elevator groaned and you felt it fall a bit. “Fuck.”

His hand was squeezing yours so tightly you were sure it will cut off your blood circulation, but you didn’t stop him. You held his hand back and watched him as he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the metal with a groan.

“Hey, Jaebum,” you called, making his shifty eyes look to you. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be fine-”

“My ass, fine,” he cut you off with panic. “We’re going to die here.”

“Come on,” you rolled your eyes, about to tell him he was overreacting when the elevator jerked down again. You yelped as you clung onto Jaebum, who wrapped his free arm around you tightly.

“I don’t want to die like this,” Jaebum moaned, his voice breaking. You closed your eyes as you gripped his jacket tighter. “There’s so much I want to do. I want to skydive.”

“You’ve already done that,” you told him, your eyes still shut tight.

“Oh right, I have,” he breathed. “Okay, then I guess I want to take you out on a date.”

“Jaebum,” you warned him, your voice low and tight. “We’re about to die, and you want to go down joking?”

“Well, you want to go down growling me,” he replied, his words hurried. “I’m not joking though, I want to. I really want to.”

“Why?” You almost yelled as the elevator dropped again.

“Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.” Jaebum chanted, his panic rising. You could feel his heat race underneath his jacket. You were sure yours was pounding just as hard and as fast as his. “I mean it. I really really want to. It’s all I’ve wanted to do since I saw you.”

“You are with Heather-AH!” The elevator dropped again, and tears filled your eyes.

“Okay. Okay. Okay,” you breathed, as you tried to calm yourself as tears burned your eyes. “If we’re being honest, I guess I do want to fuck you. But I wouldn’t want my last wish to be that-”

“Wait- what?” Jaebum broke you off, hope and surprise cutting through his nerves and panic. “You want to fuck me?”

You just nodded, about to tell him that it was just a last-minute shameful confession. It didn’t mean anything. You just wanted at least his last memories to be one that his arrogant self would enjoy, no matter how true they were.

The truth never hurt anyone anyways.

“I want to fuck you too.” Jaebum cried, holding you tighter, as the elevator went down again. “But I want to kiss you too, and take you out on a date.”

“What’s with you and dates?!” You cried back.

“I don’t know, but it’s just you,” Jaebum replied, his voice shaking. “You drive me crazy.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t want to admit that he drove you crazy too. Even though he was with your best friend, even when he chose Heather over you, you wanted him so much it physically hurt you.

“When I was little I told my dad to die,” you said softly, as tears fell from your eyes. “I didn’t mean it, dad. I’m sorry. I love you. Oh god, please keep my family safe and keep everyone happy.”

“You’re scaring me!” Jaebum cried.

“Don’t you want the last wish?”

“I already told you!”

“Are you for real?!”

“Yes! Deadly!” Jaebum answered, heated. “I want to take you out on a date! Is that so hard to believe?”

“Well we can’t go on a date now, can we?” You answered, your voice edged with anger.

“What about my other wish?”

“You want to fuck me?! Right now?!”

“No!” Jaebum cried as the elevator fell. “A kiss; a goodbye kiss I guess now.”

You stilled. You could do that. You could do as much.

The intervals between each fall lessening and you were sure soon you’d be plummeting down the levels to your death in a mere few seconds.

“Okay,” you breathed, and Jaebum stilled. “One kiss.”

Jaebum moved away from you and looked at your face.

“I-” he choked, his throat bobbing, as he nervously gulped. His eyes shaking from fear of the looming death, but also from fear of this moment. “I don’t want to pressure you or anything- I can change my last wish.”

“I want to.” You told him, your gazing dropping to his lips. You nodded, “I want to.”

Jaebum swallowed nervously as he brought his shaking hands to your face. Your hands held onto his wrist as his fingers gently brushed your skin. You gazed into his eyes, and even in the darkness, you could see them sparkle in golden wonder.

His eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation as he slowly bought his lips down to yours. You closed your eyes, feeling his warm sweet breath fall onto your lips. You weren’t sure if it was the foreboding death or his sweet gentle touch and closeness that were reasons for the butterflies in your stomach, but you had a good suspicion it was the latter.

Jaebum’s soft lips lightly touched yours, so carefully, so softly as if you’d break away into a million whispers if he was too hard. Your fingers wrapped into his palms as you pressed your lips against his.

You felt his lips open, about to capture yours in a soft sweet gentle kiss when a loud crash followed by a loud voice interrupted your dizzying mind.

You jerked away from him as blinding light fell into the elevator, and a shadow appeared as the doors opened.

“You’re alive!” The gruff voice yelled. “Are you alright?”

You remained shocked for a moment, before blinking back to your senses, “Yes!” Yes!”

“Alright, hold on a minute.”

It took ten more minutes to get the door opened and a ladder down to help you out.

You didn’t look at Jaebum.

You ignored the cold burning on your hand that Jaebum had been holding. You ignored the tingling of your lips, and the butterflies in your tummy, every time you thought of that whisper of a kiss.

You didn’t look at him when he climbed out behind you.

You watched the others and saw their faces pale when they saw him brush his jacket straight.

“Sir!” The gruff voice cried, almost bowing. You looked around saw all of them shake with fear. “I-”

The man couldn’t complete his sentence, as he shook in fear, his eyes low.

You turned back to Jaebum confused, “What’s the fuss?”

“Y/n!” You heard Naina call, before grabbing your elbow and pulling you away. You shot her a confused look, making her give you a horrified one in return. She pointed to the screen on the wall, and there you saw him.

Im Jaebum flashing on the screen, Director of Mediana Firm.

You turned back to Jaebum who gave you a cheeky wink. Your mouth fell open as Naina dragged you away.

“No way.” You muttered.

“Exactly! No way you got trapped with the new hot Director!” Naina cheered, her cheeks blushing for you. She giggled as you blinked processing everything.

“God,” you finally spoke, “I guess Pam wasn’t wrong this time.”

#jaebum #im jaebum #jaebeom #lim jaebeom #im #jaebum fanfic #jaebum smut #jaebum angst #angst #fluff #smut #got7 #got7 jaebum #got7 series #got7 fanfic #jaebum series #duff #CEO #cheating #jaedaddy #hope y'all like it

[socratoteles]

A year to get Ph.D in letting go

The last time I was here, I wrote that perhaps it was time for me to go out and just enjoy the world. And amid the global pandemic, I sort of managed to do that. It was such a lifesaver in a year of goodbyes. I`ll get to that, but let me begin with my coronavirus scare.

On March 4 last year, I was away in Bandung, aware but not worried of some obscure virus that triggered a total lockdown in some Chinese cities. That very same day was also the time when my colleagues came in contact with a man who later confirmed of having contracted COVID-19.

That was how close I was of contracting the virus. Had I not taken a paid leave to write last year’s essay in the city where I was born, chances were high that I was another case as well, at that early stage of the pandemic too. I`m still familiar with the helplessness that came after I checked in to a hospital only to being denied the test (the nurse reasoned that the contact with my colleagues, who might catch the virus from the confirmed man, cannot be categorized as close contact).

And that experience, of confusion and fear of infecting loved ones, left a lasting impression that shaped my behavior going forward. After all, it takes a pandemic to make wearing mask and washing hands could made the difference between life and death.

Covid-induced isolation meant that I spent most of my time being holed up in my room for the past 12 months. To this day the side effects of this solitary existence is still beyond my full grasp. On one hand, this situation had brought out my inner resiliency, resourcefulness and adaptability in the long days and night when things were just so dark. On the other hand, it also forced me to deal with unresolved traumas and numerous intrusive thoughts, which I will get into later.

People get really creative during the long locked-down days, spending it doing viral social media challenges one after the other. Videoconferencing become a thing on its own and for some reason loads of folks played a game named Among Us too, perhaps to remind themselves of the interactions cruelly torn apart because of the virus.

There was also a newfound awareness on class too, because the coronavirus disproportionately affected different individuals with different income level. At least on my part, I was lucky that essential workers (the pandemic elevated the phrase into such a buzzword) near my place were safe and somehow never contracted the virus. It is worth mentioning that I definitely cannot survive this long if not for the minimarket workers, ride-hailing drivers and dozens of cooks, all of whom must have worked in long hours, despite knowing the risk, just to keep their families fed.

Others, however, were not so lucky. the SARS-CoV-2 had infected more than a million Indonesians a year after it was officially detected in these shores. Millions have lost their jobs as economic activities ground to a halt. The place I currently work was not an exception. Massive layoffs would have happened in my office had the shareholders have enough money to properly compensate their workers.

It was an obviously eye-opening experience to calculate my own severance pay and make sure I could survive on that for as long as possible. The prospect of losing your income during the pandemic –which should be that particular time for anyone to hold on to their what-ifs money– was really awful.

This is the paragraph where I say that I wish nothing but the best for those who left the company simply because they deserve nothing less than that.

But there was another reason why I signed up for a help from professional therapist last year. In the latter part of last year, things got very, very grim. At the risk of oversimplification, let’s just say that I was unable to express my feelings properly to a girl that I really liked, right at the most critical moment when probably both of us needed support from each other. She eventually left with another guy.

Days before that fateful event happened, I was quietly bearing my own burden. After years of convincing myself that I was okay, I was, in fact, not okay, at least mentally. Years of trauma have caught up. It’s too personal to even spell that out here but I`ll just quote this Youtuber just to describe a fitting metaphor. 

“You see, human identity is like a house of card. One that’s always expanding. A story that is ever developing and always referred back to because every memory becomes a new card. Trauma is when a card doesn’t fit because the experience itself is so painful that it’s incompatible with everything else and if you become obsessed with making it fit the whole house of cards can fall apart and you lose the confidence to build anything new.”

Basically, my house of cards came crashing down, hard. At a time, it reduced me into this insecure soul who were unsure that people will accept me for who I was.

The last time I felt this way was a couple years back when my parent’s divorce was formalized. A girlfriend turned ex-girlfriend at that time too. Apparently, the universe has a cruel sense of timing to combine existential crisis with a relationship one.

The road to recovery was rocky, to say the least. I know something fundamental must be addressed, hence the therapy session.

I`m grateful for the company of my friends, either offline or online. (yes, I had become quite loose in terms of isolation because I know I had to prioritize my mental health; COVID-19 be damned). I`m also glad to say that because I talked with my friends about this issue, some of them were also encouraged to seek professional help.

At the height of my despair, I watched La Grande Bellezza (probably for a half a dozen time already) again and found this quote, spoken by the protagonist Jep Gambardella:

“We’re all on the brink of despair. We can only look each other in the face, keep each other company, kid each other a bit. Don’t you agree?”

Someone was kind enough to upload the entire scene on Youtube.

I decided that all bets are off, so I purchased books, many of which had been on my to-read list for years because I know I`ll have to read it when I search for a catharsis. That was how I finally read the Camus’ Myth of Sisyphus, from which I managed to understand what he meant by the absurdities of life. Into the Wild, excellently written by Jon Krakauer, broke my heart too because of Chris Mccandles’ tales somehow mimicked my own, minus the grand adventure part. I finally read Alan Watts too, from whom I learned that efforts to avoid from pain is painful in itself.

And music, a constant part of my life as I know it, helps too. I was saved because Fleet Foxes released a life-affirming record that fittingly spoke about relief, gratitude, and seasonal rebirth. During the darkest days I was just alone with my guitar in my room, terribly singing out the words that these musicians carved out of their soul to release my emotional burden. I was particularly grateful for being reminded time and again that “no one gets it right” but “we’re all supposed to try”.

I made a playlist containing songs that for me served as a reminder to be gentle for myself. You can check that here.

All of that was a roundabout way to say that I indeed, was able to go out amid the pandemic. On one afternoon I just said fuck it, I need to go out and see things. That led me to a weekly socially-distanced walk around the neighborhood, which was therapeutic in itself because the walks allowed me to be fully present and be sensitive to the sights and sounds and smells around me. Nothing is more liberating that allowing your feet to go where it you to go.

I don’t have the full answers yet, but as I wrote his essay, I`m glad to be able to say that I have rebuild my house of cards, with some of the bad cards included as well. It was quite a bumpy ride but when I looked back, this particular tweet was eerily prescient because it rings true today as was the day I tweeted it.

But I walked away from the depths of that bottomless pit not only with knowledge, but also of understanding the parts that made me who I am. I`m also humbled after I saw the abyss for the second time because it suggests that there might be another time when I found myself on the edge of despair.

I`ll never forget the fact that these hard-won lessons came on the back of years of pain, grief and suffering. But it also came on the heels of moments of simple walk in the setting sun and feeling the breeze on the beach too. In fact, I have made it my mission going forward to acknowledge both good and bad things as they are. Because forcing yourself to remember all the bright things when you were in the dark, and vice versa, is a form of self-torture. I hope this essay somehow do that mission justice.

I have said goodbyes to many things in life as the crisis comes and goes, but 2020 goodbyes were simply different. So much so that I thought I have a PhD in letting go already, however absurd that idea is.

#age #birthday #essay

[notyetneedcoffee]

Soul Seer, pt. 15

Loki Master List

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: just fluff!

Author’s Note: Takes place right after Avengers 1, with time travel elements and hints of Infinity Wars. Does NOT follow cannon after Avengers.

 Your fingers trailed along the steel frame of the wall of windows lining the walkway. Outside the sun gave the illusion of warmth, even though you knew it was cold. For the moment you aimlessly wondered, having free time before meeting with Steve and Natasha. You’d begun learning to fight a few months back.

Since staying at the Compound, Loki spent most of his days working with Banner, occasionally meeting over video conference in disguise with the other members of the worldwide team Stark put together to plan the energy migration. There was a lot of work to be done, and it needed to happen at human pace… or at least a Stark and Banner pace… because Loki was supposed to be dead.

A flash startled you from your musings. Out in the lawn now stood Thor, looking serious. His eyes moved quickly about, and when they landed on you a bright smile lit his face. Odd, you thought the windows were solid black from the outside.

Thor pointed to the end of the building. You knew a door led outside there, so you began to walk in that direction. His long strides allowed him to be inside and climbing the open stairs to the second floor. His booming voice echoed down the hall as soon as he saw you.

“Ah! Lady Y/N!” He smiled. “How fare you?”

“Well,” You accepted his warm hug. “I’m doing well here.”

“And my brother?”

“Way better than I ever would have thought.” Steve Rogers’ voice interjected from the stairs. “When did you get here?”

“Just now.” The two shared a back slapping greeting.

“Come on down,” Steve motioned to the elevator with a tilt of his head.

The three of you descended to the lower laboratories of the complex. You could see Bruce leaning against a work table, one arm wrapped around his middle and the other hand rubbing his forehead. Loki paced the room talking animatedly with his hands.

He wore your favorite dark green silk shirt. It always made you want to rub against him. You paused at the door, admiring his graceful strides. Bruce must have thought your hesitation was something else, because he waved you in and met you at the glass sliding door.

“We’re just on audio.” He spoke quietly.

Loki argued with someone on the line about power consumption. His voice, not his own, sounded higher and with a distinct eastern seaboard accent. “I can assure you, Mr. Archer, this solution is not a temporary one. The need for your power plants to run on fossils will be forever obsolete.”

“If you think we’re going to leave our shareholders hanging while…” The anger in the man’s voice was unmistakable.

“This guy just won’t buy in.” Bruce rolled his eyes.

Loki saw you and waved you closer. Your arms automatically slid around his waist as his right arm pulled you closer. His body language looked calm and relaxed. He felt calm and relaxed to you. However, his voice held an all to human tension when he spoke. “I don’t want to call in the Council, Mr. Archer.”

This set the man off again. Loki just grinned.

“I’ll be calling the Secretary of Energy and Senator Rowlins about this.”

“Please do.” Loki replied. “Let them explain it you. You need to remember we’re offering this five year transition period and incentive package so your shareholders won’t unduly suffer. But if you refuse to adapt your plant to the new technology obtained from the alien research, or some other form of renewable energy, you’ll just be forced out of the game.”

“Do not dictate to me, young man!”

“No, I’m just pointing out your choices. Adapt or die, that’s the way of things. You’re being offered good recompence and decent amount of time. The Council could just release this technology tomorrow. What would that do you shareholdings?” Loki grinned.

You absently rubbed you fingers over his silk clad stomach. He loved this, upsetting these people’s world order, causing chaos in their shelter selfish worlds. It fed his mischievous nature.

“You’ll be hear from our lawyers!”

“Can’t wait.” Loki touched a button, ending the call. He pressed his lips to your forehead. “Miss me, my pet?”

“Always.” You grinned.

Thor and Steve watched the two of you from the hall. Cap leaned a little closer, whispering. “I think he really likes making all these world industry leaders dance.”

“What is the Midgardian saying? He’s using his powers for good?” Thor whispered back.

Steve chuckled. “I s’pose.”

“I never thought I would see him so calm.” Thor mused.

“Oh, he gets in a rage, gets frustrated.” Steve buried his hands in his pockets. “But it blows over, and he keeps his word, and so long as she’s safe… that keeps him… balanced.”

Thor nodded, lifting a hand when Loki’s eyes turned to him. A frown crossed the darker brother’s face. He pulled away from you and walked out to the hall. You followed.

“Thor.”

“Brother.”

They stared at one another. Finally, you broke the silence. “What brings you around? Everything okay? Or is this just a social visit.”  

“Father asked me to come.” You felt Loki tense, but gave no indication as Thor continued. “Heimdall has been keeping his eyes on you and reporting on your activities.”

“If Heimdall is watching, then why send you?” He snapped.

“Loki.” You frowned, looking up at him. “Did you mean that to be as rude as it sounded?”

Thor’s brow arched in surprise. Steve bit his lip to hold back a grin, he learned chuckling at the way you corrected Loki was disastrous for everyone.

Loki looked down at your scowl and blew out air through his nose. “It’s old habits, I suppose.” He turned his eyes back to Thor, rewording his question. “So, what is it that Father wants?”

Though not an apology, the God of Thunder could scarcely believe his brother allowed you to admonish him, much less that he would heed your words. He knew the two of you shared a bond, knew that you’d touched each other’s minds. But, he could feel this was different.

“Perhaps we should discuss this in private.” Thor began to venture.

“You might as well spit it out, brother.” Loki rolled his eyes. “I’m not granted anything as privileged as privacy here.” Then he smirked. “Besides, there is no one in this company who would betray a trust.”

Thor crossed his arms and shrugged. “Father sent me, but it was a mother’s bidding.”

“What of mother?” Loki became instantly more in tune. You knew how he felt for her, knew how he missed her.

“She says something rare has occurred, says she can feel it in her magic.” Thor gave a lopsided grin. “Now that I’m here, I think she’s right.”

“What? Dammit, get to the point!”

“She says you’ve taken a mate.”

Loki’s mouth fell open. You and Steve looked at each other, confused. You never said in traditional words but no one doubted that you and Loki loved one another. So why was shock and confusion rolling through Loki’s mind.

“I don’t get it.” Banner looked between Thor and Loki.

“Our kind, our people, love and marry. It’s not unheard of, though they are not always monogamous. Even then there are exceptions, like our parents are now. But even early on, father was known to wander and mother had…”

“Don’t say that cretin’s name.” Loki scowled.

“But a mate,” Thor continued. “A pair that is tied together for the centuries of our lifetimes, is a rare thing. It is more common with the Alfheim, but it occurs with every race upon Yggdrasil. I don’t know if it was the touching of your minds, or if that was just a catalyst to what was destined to be, but I agree with mother. It’s true.”

A mixture of awe and elation filled you, only to be drowned in a crashing wave of sorrow and desperation. Your hand reached for Loki’s, and he gripped your fingers tightly. Tears filled your eyes as you tried to bite back a sob.

Steve said your name quietly, seeing the change.

You looked to him, tears falling silently. “I don’t have centuries. In what will seem like a blink of an eye, I will grow old and die and there’s nothing Loki can do to stop it.”

Cap’s face fell. He knew that heartache and would not wish it upon anyone, ever.

Thor’s strong hand gripped Loki’s shoulder. His other gently touched your cheek. “Do not do this. Do not mourn for what has not happen yet. Live joyously right now. I will tell Mother what I’ve seen. She will not allow such a tragedy to pass, especially when it’s within Father’s ability to prevent it.”

Loki gave him a sad smile. “I am sentenced to a century for my crimes. He’s not going to grant me an Apple with less than one in a hundred years served.”

“Mother is persuasive, you know better than most.” Thor beamed. “It may take a year, or five, or ten, but Mother and I will make Odin see what needs to be done.” Thor turned to you. “You understand of what we speak?”

The Apple of Immortality. You knew. Trying to weed through the bad memories of all the times Odin hurt and disappointed Loki, you searched for all the times Frigga’s influence worked upon their Father. Little concessions for the children to serious matters of state, she did hold sway over her husband. Suddenly you realized she held so much influence, that she used it sparingly as to not abuse it.

It might be okay after all.

You nodded slowly. “You mother is a formidable woman, kind, and she loves you both. Alright,” You smiled up at Loki, wiping your tears away. “There’s no point in wasting energy on worrying. You’re right, we live for today. But, Thor, we’re placing our trust in you.”

His big arms pulled you close, despite Loki’s growl, and he dropped a kiss into your hair. “I will not fail you, little sister. Mother is going to adore you.”

“Stop manhandling her,” Loki grumbled. “She is mine.”

You giggled, slipping from Thor’s bear hug and into Loki’s arms.

“How long are you staying?” Steve asked, not one hundred percent sure of the agreement, but satisfied that you were all happy.

“You need to tell her right way.” Loki answered at the same time Thor boomed “There is time to feast and celebrate!”

You squeezed Loki a little tighter. “We can wait a night. Maybe Thor will get you drunk and I’ll get to take advantage of you for a change.”

Loki’s eyes grew wide before he laughed heartily.

Yeah, you sighed, things were going to be alright.  

TAGS:

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#loki x reader #loki fanfic #loki fan fiction #loki layfeyson x reader

[aizawaskittenwhore]

  𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭

words:3.7k

pairing: aizawa x fem!reader

warnings: tw mention of blood, tw mentions of death, mentions of drugs in case you forgot this is a cartel au, murder, swearing, keigo being a cocky lil fucker, sexual harassment towards the end cause yakuza men suck

rating: 18+ cause shit gets real this chapter

a/n: i FINALLY FINISHED IT FUCK YES chapter two mothafuckas!!! i’ve been having so much fun brainstorming everything to come, and here you’re gonna really get a feel for how big this cartel is. player two, f/n l/n, you’re up! <3

all rights reserved ©️aizawaskittenwhore. do not copy, repost, or modify.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝’𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 ↳ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞

September 13th, 2181

2:56pm

Musutafu, Japan

“Hold the fuck up. This doesn’t make any sense, I mean—these are Pros. Well known and well respected Pros, at that. The hell would they be tryna’ run a fucking cartel for?!?” Ken Takagi (more commonly known as Rock Lock) rubbed the bridge of his nose in confusion, not understanding the motive or correlation. “I mean think about it. These motherfuckers got more money than they know what to do with. Endeavor is a shareholder in goddamn Nintendo, Hawks owns his own fucking agency and line of sports cars, and I could’ve sworn I saw Eraser getting Shinsou fitted for a fucking Cuban on his birthday a few months ago. It’s not like they’re strapped for cash these days.” Ken huffed, the agent’s arms crossed as he leaned back in the conference chair.

In an attempt to try and broaden the range on your current investigation, your department recruited the help of several Pros to provide reinforcements in Japan, the States, and wherever else sales were being made. Going undercover was already plenty dangerous, and going alone was the equivalent of signing your own death warrant. Enlisting the help of Rock Lock, Ryukyu, Miruko, Fatgum, Edgeshot and plenty of others was relatively easy; these were Heroes that had experience with smugglers and narcotics-based operations, so when you’d approached them with the task at hand, they’d happily agreed.

However, some needed more convincing than others.

“Takagi. Think about it. Sure, they may not be living paycheck to paycheck, but look at the timeline.” You state, looking over your shoulder towards the holographic board displaying an interactive timeline of the investigation, including photos, invoices and even audio recordings pulled from surveillance cameras. “Two years ago, we seized a truck containing approximately 78 kilograms of crack cocaine. When we questioned the driver on where he was taking it and where he got it from, he didn’t budge. Luckily for us, the dumbass wasn’t smart enough to avoid a paper trail, leaving the insurance documents in the glove compartment when we’d taken him into custody. The insurance company was under the name “Target Lance”, but after doing some digging on the name we found out the corporation went bankrupt six months before and was eventually bought out by Chevrolet.” Pausing to return to the screen welded to the wall behind you, your hands swiped as you searched for the file reading December 5th, 2178: A live video feed of a towering skyscraper being built, the building’s name reading “Chevrolet Corvette Inc.” as it hovered above tens of stories above each worker.

“But you all haven’t heard the name Chevy in a while right? That’s because two weeks after that building was built, the hundred-million dollar company was bought out by Takami Corporate-”

“-who owns Takami Motors. Which is the brand associated with the Peregrine Speedsters, Hawks’ damned sports car line.” Ken finished for you, brown spheres twinkling in sudden clarity. “Now you’re speaking my language.” You nod, hands waving as you continue to brief the room of Pros.

“The Todoroki and Nintendo console collaboration didn’t happen until about earlier this year, March to be specific. Which is quite convenient..since around that time the price of cocaine per gram stabilized in both America and Japan, rising from $112 to $138 bucks a pop. I’m nobody to speak on looks either, but for as long as we’ve known of him, Eraser has dressed like a depressed college student with insomnia that doesn’t understand the concept of soap or a pair of clippers. Now he’s got his wife in Cartier bracelets and getting his shirts tailored because the collar “doesn’t allow him enough room for his capture weapon”?!? Bullshit.” You huff, stifling a smile as you watch Miruko and Edgeshot snicker in their seats at your...blunt observation.

“It makes sense. Three years ago all our agencies, including those overseas, started cutting our checks down by half. They can barely afford to pay us a quarter of what we used to make, and these guys are making these lavish purchases while we all starve?? No way. Something’s fishy, and it’s damn sure not this takoyaki.” Fatgum spat, hands quivering with rage as he struggled to grasp the food with his chopsticks.

“Fatgum’s right. Hero unemployment is at a staggering 8.7 percent. Meanwhile, these men are spending money like it’s going out of style. It makes no sense.” Miruko pondered, Ryukyu folding her hands in her lap as she voiced her approval for immediate action. Edgeshot nodded in agreement, brows furrowed in frustration at this blatant disregard for the law. “So we’re all in agreement that our own people have resorted to breaking the law. Cool, got it. Question is, why? And what the hell are we gonna do about it?” Ken demanded, his patience having worn thin from all this speculation.

“Good question. I think they’re trying to take advantage of the tough spot the Hero Commission is in right now, manipulate that vulnerability and use it for their own gain. They’re not invulnerable to the tough times Pros are facing in the workforce. So they’ve gotten together to try and make it work for them, even if it means breaking the law.” You query, hands typing furiously at the virtual screen to pull up the files of each Hero, displaying all the current information on them from their blood type to each known family member. “These three banding together though? Along with other people? There’s no way. They hate each other. Or at the very least couldn’t get anything done even if they did have a common goal in mind.” Edgeshot murmured lowly.

“I thought so too. But then it hit me: it’s not just some flimsy group project. Sure, crime has gone up since the formation of this cartel, but nobody who holds any rank has been murdered or harmed in any way. No no no, these guys are singing in tune for now...which means there’s a damn good choir director among them. So I’ve volunteered to go undercover, work my way through this organization and figure out just how high up this goes.” You assert, shoulders rigid and chin aloft as the harnesses of your costume frame your figure.

“Alone?? Are you outta your goddamn mind? Let me go, you’ll need back up-” Rock Lock sputters, hands fanning out in shock.

“No way. What about your wife, your kid?! This isn’t just some average drug bust, we’re dealing with powerful men in possession of superhuman abilities that have the game on lockdown. You’ve got too much to lose, more than any of us anyway. Edgeshot and I will go, we’ve seen the other side of the law before, and our quirks are better suited for stealth should anything go wrong.” You fire, eyes narrowing into slits. “The rest of you will be working in tandem with the DEA and our resources, and we’ll report back to you with all future developments. We’ll also need you to be ready to fight at a moment’s notice, if we need it.”

A thick silence clogged the air, Ken settling back into his seat across the table. His amber eyes flickered in irritation before huffing in acceptance, the situation being out of his hands. All the conference participants’ gazes fixed in determination, some with anger. The tense aura weighed on everyone present before Miruko cleared her throat, ivory teeth gleaming in a smirk.

“Well we’ve got a solid plan. So all I wanna know is...when do we start?

June 2nd, 2182

In all honesty...you thought the nickname was just a sad attempt to stroke his ego. But seeing the way over seventy commercial-size planes and approximately 30 seaplanes sat aloft balmy concrete in the Guadalajara sun showed you exactly why they called Hawks “Lord of The Skies”. Arrays of laborers with avian-oriented quirks loaded kilo after kilo of coke on to each and every plane, some by hand and others by forklift. Welders were personally hand selected by Keigo himself to eliminate the issue of utilizing every available inch of space; each vessel having been stripped of everything from the seats to the built in mini-bars (much to Keigo’s chagrin). From where you stood in the scalding hot beams, the runway seemed to extend for miles as it brimmed with visible heat-waves.

Dressed in a simple black tank top, black biker type shorts, aluminum plated gauntlets, steel toed combat boots and harnesses that encapsulated the curves of your body before coming to a stop at your thighs, you silently rejoiced in the airflow your gear allowed you in spite of the color. The bandanna atop your hairline helped to absorb some of the sweat, which was a bonus.

“Not bad for a starter fleet huh? The wingspan on these babies almost makes me jealous.” A rich and decadent voice called from your left. Sleek carmine appendages and brassy blond hair entered your peripheral vision, giving way to the man who ran the show: Keigo Takami. Adorned in a pair of low rise denim jeans that were so incomprehensibly tight they accentuated every bit of his dick (which was likely intentional), a plain white tee and ebony cowboy boots that looked like they cost three times what you make in a week; he most definitely looked the part of the People Magazine’s “Sexiest Man Alive” and Playboy’s “Player of the Month” titles he’d earned. Luminous olive skin glistened with sweat, droplets sliding down the deep v neck of his shirt with ease; the way the daisy-hued fabric stuck to his crafted abdomen leaving nothing to the imagination. Tourmaline and Argentium piercings dangled effortlessly from both ears, and if you weren’t so hell-bent on putting the motherfucker in jail you would’ve had no problem admitting how attractive he really was.

“Starter fleet? You’re about to put Delta out of business, look at this shit!” You guffaw, arms folded, an eyebrow raised in astonishment at his “humble” admission. “Flattery will get you everywhere, and then some.” Keigo chuckles, breath hot against your ear the instant he bends at the waist, hands settled in his pockets with that cocky aura about him.

“-And having your damn breath against my ear in 107 degree weather will, respectfully, get you my foot up your ass. I didn’t fly down here to get treated like one of your poor interns. I came here to make money, so let’s talk it.” You lash, the climbing tempature slicing your tolerance for bullshit to shreds.

“Shit. Straight to the point huh? I like it. You wanna talk shop, say no more. Over lunch though, I’m starving out here.” Keigo clicks his teeth with a grin, escorting the two of you towards the very jet he’d arrived in. “A little unknown fact about me, usually I hate flying ”conventionally”. Gives me anxiety, and I’m awful company when I’m nervous.”

Settling into the light taupe hued cabin, you observe the not-so-subtle elements of class. Ivory shochu bottles with intricate crystalline glasses to match, the bar fully stocked with gold accents along the upholstery. Plates of costly Kobe style beef rested atop spotless porcelain, romaine lettuce coupled with grilled applewood bacon, chicken, avocado and buttermilk dressing settled into envy-inducing black marble bowls. The plane was spacious, and certainly cost a pretty penny or two. “You’re upfront, so I’ll be honest with you. As of right now, this plane is the last thing I’m worried about-” Hawks mutters lowly, dijon eyelets tapering into thin slivers.

“-It’s the Shie Hassaikai making their encore appearance, and with the Colombians at that.”

You choke on a sip of Vega Sicilia, pupils dilating at the thought. 

“Now you spoke about wanting to make some money, right?” You nod, heart rate steadily rising. 

“What if I could offer you something more? Something of...extensive value.” Keigo drawled, dark undertone flooding the air like a thick smoke.  “Like what, Takami?” You inquire.

“A seat at the table.” He shrugs, like one would if they were discussing something as trivial as ice cream flavors or Friday night plans, not the reorganization of a crime syndicate. “You’ve been workin’ for me shy of a year now right? Somethin’ like that? Anyway..”

He takes a deep, contemplative swig of the chestnut liquid, eyes boring into yours. 

“You’re efficient, and you don’t take anyone’s shit. Good help’s hard to find in our line of work, and before you know it, this little hierarchy is gonna go under some..reorganization. Only the people who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty will have a place in the new order, so I want you there.”

“What’s the catch? I’m not dumb enough to just assume this is some promotion for busting my ass.” You tread, brain working double-time to try and decipher just what Keigo’s getting at. “Clever girl. It’s a simple task, in and out.” He assures, middle and ring finger sliding a matte-finish photo across the mahogany. Displayed was Kinan Zango, a member of the Shie Hassaikai’s middle rankings shaking hands with Joaquin Fuentes, a Columbia native known for having a body count in the double digits. 

“Another fact about me: Only one thing heightens my anxiety more than planes...people who fuck with my money. This asshole Kinan’s been selling my routes to the fucking Columbians and pocketing the profits, and getting 20% of the product as a little “thank you” when he knows nobody moves coke through the Gulf other than Takami fucking Keigo. He’s becoming a problem, and I don't like those.” Kei growls, left eye twitching minutely. His nails are sinking into the polish of the wood, his energy vehemently furious.

“Take care of this for me, and you’ll be my plus one to Guadalajara tomorrow.”

The general public often made the mistake of writing Keigo off as just your average “pretty boy”. Whereas a trained eye could see that while he may be pretty, he was nobody to be tested. The sheer intellect he possesses to seek, hand-craft each and every route, assign planes to their designated locations along with alternatives should there ever be an issue? He just didn’t get enough credit. 

So he took major offense when someone had the audacity to treat his hard work as though it was theirs.

Besides.. you got a man with looks, money and bloodlust? Tch. You’ve just created a monster.

You weren’t necessarily opposed to the idea of ridding the world of another drug-dealing degenerate, but the idea of casually committing a murder as a DEA agent in a foreign country just didn't sit right with you. Undercover agents weren’t permitted a “license to kill” should the investigation call for it either, so it was between committing a murder as government agent, or declining Keigo’s request and missing out on a front row seat to the cartel’s entire operation.

The silence that followed his sentence was deafening. Ice cubes chimed loftily as they swirled around inside his glass, clear liquid sloshing around while he awaited an answer.

Your jaw sets, eyes piercing into his. 

“Consider it done.”

Blood spattered onto the pale concrete, moonlight illuminating the scarlet hues. Your knuckles throbbed with pain, the sensation blossoming through your hand as your lips curled back in a snarl, vigorously ridding your hands of the other man’s bodily fluids. 

“ If you really think coming after me for that bird brained motherfucker is gonna change anything, you got another thing fucking coming.” Kinan spat, nose steadily flowing with red. His lip was busted, face splotched with yellowing purple bruises. Tugging at his restraints he thrashed, mouth spewing white-hot venom.

“You’re talking a lot of shit for a middle-ranking yakuza who thinks some new coke routes is gonna keep the Hassaikai from dumping your body on the side of some road in Zacatecas.” You observe, sending a harsh kick between the mans ribs, steel toed boots making an audible crack. “The Japanese are like Dixie Cups to them...”‘use em’ once, then throw em’ away”, right? You’re a fool if you think your days aren't numbered once you wear out your welcome.”

“Fuck you. You’re little boy toy threw a temper tantrum, so he sent you to “take care of things”, isn’t that right?” Kinan coos, eyes softening in a mocking pout. 

“Trust me, you're not the first slut Takami’s been sticking it in that he’s sent to kill me. Only difference between you and the rest of those bitches-” He huffs, head craning back against the metal chair to let our a soft breath of laughter. “-is that you’re gonna put up a fight.”

Suddenly his bones began to shift, popping and snapping as his skin began to pool below him; you recoiled in fear watching his body slowly slip from his imprisonment like gelatin exits a mold.

“I’ve got elastic bones kid! Whatever breaks just snaps right back into place.”

Skin stretching and pulling as he regained his original form, legs sprinting towards you. Before you could fire off your Quirk’s sonic blast his grip seized the back of your neck, a blade taking residence just below your left eye; it’s tip pressing uncomfortably into your water line. 

“Now, if you're good, I’ll make it quick. Though I’m known for being pretty... through with my toys.” Kinan leers, a hand slowly slithering down your sides to reach for the muscle of your ass. 

“Go to hell, and die there while you’re at it!” You shout.

Bile creeping into your throat, you seize the momentary shift in energy, generating a small sound wave that sent Kinan a few feet to your left; giving the two of you some distance. Your Quirk allowed you to absorb sound to power-up your physical movements, or send it out in the form of sonic blasts or sound waves, so the louder the sound, the more power it gave you. Readying your fists in anticipation for combat, you silently willed for a sudden disruption in the deafening silence as he rushed back to your rigid body. 

What you didn’t anticipate was that the sudden bang that filled the air, and the lifeless body of Kinan dropping to your feet with a thud, his head...

excavated, for lack of a better word.

“Don’t you know the entire point of having backup while under cover is to... call for backup?” Edgeshot snarked, striding towards you, gun settled back into it’s holster. His foot carelessly nudged the bleeding man before removing a Polaroid camera from his knapsack and snapping a photo of the carnage.

“W-what the fuck?! Look, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful when I say this, but what the absolute fuck did you just do??? We’re government agents, in a foreign country, we can’t just fucking murder these assholes nor do we have the license to-” You sputter, brows arching in frustration.

“This was your ticket into Guadalajara. I just secured you box seats when you were this close to getting stuck in the damned nosebleeds. I believe the correct words you’re looking for are thank you.” Kamihara snaps, shoving the photo into your hand. 

“We’re in a world completely different from our own. It’s forgiveness first, and permission later down here. I don’t like it either...but it’s just the way things are.” He sighs, hanging his head while his shoulders settled like the solar system rested on them. 

“I’ll take care of this. Now take that to Hawks, and don’t you dare fuck it up. Don’t let me have killed this poor asshole in vain.” 

You nod, stepping over Kinan’s body. 

Good riddance.

“Thank you, by the way.” You putter. Kamihara returns the sentiment with a nod, before turning to the corpse before him, phone raised to his ear as he spoke with whoever was on the opposite line, eyes that were once grey now swam with deep scarlet.

“Excellent work! I won’t lie, I had a feeling you were hardcore, but damn, this is some seamless shit! You deserve my praise.” Keigo beams, pearly teeth sparkling in the light of the cabin. Nodding in acceptance you grasped his hand upon his offering, permitting him to escort you towards your respective aircraft.

“Well, a promise is a promise. And if nothing else, I’m most certainly a man of my word. Meet me at this airstrip same time tomorrow, 8am. Pack light, Mexico’s a bitch in the summer, though you already know that.”

“Got it. Pleasure doing business with you, Hawks.”

“Call me Keigo, if you want. I hate all the formal shit, long as we got respect, that's all I need.” He shrugs.

“Understood. See you tomorrow, Keigo.” You affirm, climbing the ladder to your jet, body visibly relaxing at the thought of rest.

“Wait--before you go, I wanted to ask ya. What’s with the whole ancient hieroglyphics tat you got goin on, on your spine? It just looks familiar, is all.” He queries.

Home.

November 12th, 2174.

“Y/N! I found somethin’! It’s this super cool protection rune I found in grandma’s things. Check it out! It wards off all evil, and whoever’s in possession of it can, like, balance their energy with the divine power.”

“You’re such a hippie, I swear to god.” You grin.

“Don’t hate because my chakras are balanced and yours aren’t, bitch.” She grinned, index and thumb coming together to flick your forehead. 

“At least take it with you for your exam, for good luck! Pleaseeeee! I think it’ll really help.” Her doe eyes melting your steely resolve. You could never deny her, those eyes constantly solidifying her role as the younger sister. 

“...Only if you’ll clean my room for me when I come back for Christmas.” You demand, an eyebrow raised in mirth.

“Deal.”

And even though you never did admit it to her, that tiny piece of paper tucked into your bra did more for you during that exam than any late night cram session ever could’ve.

“It’s a protection rune. To ward off all evil energies, spirits and all that shit.” You mutter.

“Hm. Looks like it works, seeing how well tonight panned out for ya. Could use me one, would probably keep old man Todoroki out my fuckin’ hair.” He chuckles, hands releasing from the railing as he threw you a wave.

“But I wouldn’t worry too much about tomorrow, anyway. I got a feeling you’re gonna fit in just fine with us.” He smirked.

Ah.

If only that were true, Keigo.

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