#she shouldn’t be a ceo to begin with but ALAS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sukirichi · 3 years

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reckless [02.]

With a lackadaisical playboy as your boss, being reckless wasn’t an option. But on the one time you let loose and made mistakes, your life is shattered, and now you’re playing house with your insufferable boss who is the father of your baby.

✘ cw. angst, toxic situations

✘ note. yes, feel free to scream at me in the asks. but like don’t worry, i promise there’s more to come and there’s more to happen! it’s going to get fluffier as we go hehehehe. ALSO, I can’t help but feel that Zayn’s “Let Me” speaks perfectly to CEO playboy Gojo. hmph.

one ✘ two ✘ three

One glance at the tall man beside you, and you would’ve thought he would pass out soon.

Satoru had been endlessly fidgety hours before the appointment. Flicking from music stations to another, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel or sighing at the sight of you calmly watching the city go by in a flash – it was clear he was restless. Judging from the dark circles he tried to conceal under a pair of shades, he probably hadn’t slept much last night as well.

Now that you were both inside the clinical room, with you laying back down on the reclined bed, belly exposed and all for him to marvel at, his knee hadn’t stopped bouncing. “Satoru, calm down. It’s just a doctor’s appointment.”

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants. “I’m just…excited yet nervous, you know? It feels so real now.”

Real didn’t begin to cover it. Although you masked your nervous quite well, you felt your stomach tighten when a woman came in. Her smile was gentle and comforting enough, talking you both through the process and spilling little fun facts about pregnancy. She applied a cool gel over your belly before turning to a screen, where mixed dots and waves of black and white blurred in front of your visions. Your eyes widened in awe, throat dry from the inability to speak. The baby had always felt real, but seeing it with your own two eyes, a small figure barely even a comprehensible shape in the screen, you couldn’t help but tear up a little.

“That’s mine?” Satoru breathed out, absentmindedly looping his hands through yours. It made you stiffen for a quick second, but your attention was quickly pulled back to the sonogram. “We made that?”

Your heart clenched at his words.

He sounded so happy – like all his dreams came true and you’d just given him a gift that was beyond priceless. You supposed it really was; a baby was always a miracle and joy to have, but this child wasn’t made out of love. How could he have so much fondness for something he didn’t want in the first place?

“The baby is perfectly healthy. This pregnancy doesn’t seem like a high-risk one, but it’s too early to tell so we’ll keep checking in on you,” the doctor pushed her glasses back to her nose, the sound of her cool voice pulling you back from a dangerous path of self-doubt and wariness. “Do you guys want to know the gender?”

Glancing at Satoru, you shook your head. It was amusing that you didn’t need to share words before he got the meaning behind one look, and he squeezed your hand as if to say he understood.

“I’d like that to be more of a surprise. Thank you, doctor.”

“Congratulations on being a father, Sir,” she bowed, and it occurred to you just now she was probably a family doctor. Satoru did end up keeping his promise that your pregnancy be kept private for a while. This little detail made you turn to him with shock written all over your face, though his attention was centred in on the swirling monochrome colours on the screen. Whether the doctor noticed the brewing tension between you two or not, you were still gad when they bowed once more to excuse themselves. “I’ll leave you two to talk now.”

The moment she was gone, you sat up and pushed your blouse down. Satoru’s demeanour had changed as well. His smile was wiped from his face, replaced only by a slight downturn of his lips.

Sighing, you swung your legs over the bed, not minding one bit that he was inches away from resting his chin onto your thighs. “Is there something you’re not telling me? You’ve been so worried since we got here.”

Satoru winced.

“Am I that obvious?”

“Even if you aren’t, it’s not that hard to see through you,” you spoke gently, a spirit possessing you because there would’ve been no other logical reason on why you placed a palm over his. Satoru’s hands were warm and large as he cupped your knee, tracing little patterns over your jeans as he kept his gaze lowered to the floor. It was an odd sight to see; that the Gojo Satoru refused to look a woman in the eye. “Tell me. What’s wrong?”

Satoru’s sigh is painfully drawn out, though his chuckles took the brunt.

“I don’t know what to do – how to be a father, I mean. Don’t you ever get worried…that maybe we might fuck up and ruin someone’s life?”

“Hey,” you cupped his cheek, forcing him to look you in the eyes – which you really wished he didn’t, because you’d never seen such azure this up close before. It was no secret that his eyes alone stole the hearts of people, but you had to remind yourself he broke them as well, so that you pulled away right before he got too close for comfort. It wasn’t what he needed anyway. Satoru simply required reassurance, so you opted for an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Weren’t you the one telling me the other day we’ll work it out?”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head, a smile lighting up his features once more. “Are you feeling good? There’s someplace I want to take you, as a celebration for our healthy baby.”

You pursed your lips. As much as you appreciated his enthusiasm, this ‘celebration’ didn’t sound like a good idea. You’ve made mistakes before and now you lived the consequence of it; being reckless was outdated. Caution, wariness, and space were the top three perfect recipes for the complete opposite of a disaster.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Why not?” he challenged, taking your hand in his as he guided you out the clinic. You made no comment on why he led you out the back where he’d parked his car, even going as far to bow for you as he opened your door. “Liven up a little, we got good news today! Plus, we didn’t both take a day for nothing. Come on, you’re going to have fun, I promise you!”

“And where would we go where people won’t recognize you?”

“Somewhere people are too lost in their own world to focus on others,” Satoru announced before sending you a side glance, smooth hands already on their way to rev the engine.

This wouldn’t go down well. Or at least that was what you wanted to believe, because his smile and excitement were too contagious that you couldn’t restrain the smile you wore.

“A carnival? Really? We’re too old for this.”

“We’re never too old for anything,” he insisted, placing his hands on your shoulders as he maneuvered from stall to stall. Everywhere around you, children and people of all ages milled by, laughter and screams that fading into the distance. One survey at the long, endless lines for the rides and crowded spaces, you grimaced, feeling an uncomfortable weight resting on your shoulders that was beyond Satoru’s hands. “Aw, come on, don’t be such a bore. Day offs like these are rare and think about the baby! Don’t you think they would’ve wanted us to get a long?”

“You’re just using the baby as an excuse to have fun.”

Of course he would – Gojo Satoru was like a man-child. Whether it was someone randomly bringing donuts or puppies into the office, he easily lit up like a firework, seemingly finding joy in every little thing. Being stuck in the office and forced to work his ass off under your supervision must’ve taken a toll on him too.

Add on the fact he hadn’t gone out on dates or parties ever since he found out he was going to be a dad, the desperation to go out and do something was written all over his face.

Satoru pouted. “That’s mean. Take that back.”

“No.”

“And I’m the childish one here?” he snickered. You merely rolled your eyes at him and gave in; too much time spent working and not enough time relaxing (not that being a carnival was your definition or relaxation, but alas, Satoru was dragging you around everywhere like always) wouldn’t be good for the baby.

“You see that bear over there? I’m going to win that for you. It could be my first ever present for our baby.”

There was no stopping him. You didn’t want to, either, because you just stood there, arms crossed against your chest as you let him do whatever he pleased. A literal man-child, a youthful soul stuck in an irritatingly attractive man’s body – these were the thoughts that ran through your head while Satoru kept swinging his arm back and forth. He chose a stall where you had to knock down stacks of cans down with one set of three balls, all because he wanted to win a bear. You would really rather go home than watch him fail four times now, but he wasn’t giving up, only flexing his shoulders before gesturing to the young man.

“Hey man, three more balls please.”

Nothing was funny about it at all. Watching your boss fail miserably even after ten tries shouldn’t have been so hilarious, yet sweat was dripping all over his face and his patience was hanging on a loose thread that you were giggling before you knew it.

His usual confident bravado began to tear down bit by bit, his face flushed from the sounds of your teasing.

“Satoru, stop,” you laughed, “We’ve been here for twenty minutes and your wallet might as well be empty! You can just go buy a bear at the mall.”

“You’re too functional. Where would be the meaning behind it if I just bought a random bear?” he huffed, pushing the sleeves of his denim jacket up to his elbows. Determined now more than ever, he even stretched his long arms side to the side with a shake of his hips. You could tell the young man manning the stall was hiding his amusement by whistling to himself, but Satoru really was such a ridiculous sight you couldn’t blame him. “No, I’m going to get that for you, then I’ll brag to my baby how cool their dad was when he knocked those cans down.”

“You mean, if you knock those cans down.”

His shoulders deflated. “Support me a little bit, will you?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, it might just inflate your ego and you’ll be too distracted by yourself to ever actually knock those cans down,” He threw a ball with a force so strong it hit the curtain above the cans, and it bounced back somewhere below the tables. It didn’t even touch the can by a smidge, and you snorted. “See what I mean?”

Expecting that Satoru would take insult to heart (as his ego was easily wounded, this much you knew when he refused to talk to anyone at the office for a whole day because one of his directors forgot his name) you smirked at him, but that smirk immediately dropped when he grinned back at you. He was no longer wimpy like before, an aura of confidence brimming from him. “That’s like the second time you’ve told me I was distracting,” he mused, leaving you baffled because he was right. “On the contrary, I think you’rea lot more distracting, so I take that back. Just stand there and watch me win.”

“Okay,” you drawled out in faux disinterest, thankful for the corny carnival music and chatter from the crowd that he couldn’t hear your poor beating heart.

You were too focused on pretending to be unbothered by him that you failed to see how the cans were knocked down. The counter guy was already picking them up as Satoru pumped his fists in the air, way too much like a child high on sugar.

Was this really the father of your baby?

“I won! I fucking won! That huge brown bear, please!”Satoru’s smile from holding the bear that was half his size couldn’t even compare to the city lights and sparklers. Even his eyes were lit up in joy as he skipped back to you, happily waving the doe-eyed bear in front of you. At your lack of reaction, he sighed before jutting his cheek out to you. “No congratulations kiss?”

“How about a slap?”

“Kinky,” he teased, sending your brain to overheat when he tapped his chin in thought. “Well, you did make my back bleed so I kind of got the idea you’re sort of extreme in bed – ow! Would you please stop hitting me? I just won you a wonderful prize and your first reaction is to hit me! This arm is exhausted from swinging endlessly, you know.”

“Maybe if you aimed better, you wouldn’t have had to exhaust yourself. Like I said, you could’ve just bought a bear,” you scolded, raising your arm threateningly when he opened his mouth again. Idiot. “Give me that.”

Satoru effortlessly swung the bear until it was under your chins, his white lashes ethereal as he peeked at you through them. He was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath dusting on your cheeks, that same warmth that had been mixing with yours in a sloppy, heated kiss just weeks ago. “And who said I was letting you carry this?” he taunted, thoroughly enjoying how for once, you weren’t hitting him.“I’m supposed to wave this around proudly then place it in our baby’s room when we get home. Besides, your hand looks heavy already.”

“My hands? Wait, what do you mean our baby’s room?”

At your words and questioning gaze, Satoru did a quick turn, trying to use the bear as a shield.

“Yeah, I forgot to tell you,” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “I may or may not have had my parents’ guest room renovated as a baby room, although if you ask me, I think moving somewhere else would be much better. Raising a child in a penthouse doesn’t seem like such a great idea if you ask me,” opening your mouth to scold him, Satoru stopped you by placing a finger on your lips, noses grazing against each other. “Don’t scold me right now; I know that look on your face and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, okay? We can still decorate it ourselves. I just had the beds removed and the space cleaned out. Now stop over thinking and let me help you with your problem.”

You pushed his face away for the sake of your heart. In fact, you should be paid for your acting skills for looking so unaffected.

“What problem?”

“Your hands look heavy,” he beamed, long fingers looping through yours as he swayed them side to side. “So let me carry it for you.”

“Satoru, I—”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he blinked innocently while surrendering his free hand, “I’m not doing this for you, it’s for the baby. Did you know oxytocin is released and makes you feel good and reduces pain, maybe even stress? We can pump your oxytocin levels through touch. It also lowers your blood pressure, and we want you at your happiest and healthiest for this pregnancy, right?”

“Since when were you an expert on this?”

“Since I found out I’m becoming a dad,” his words struck you speechless, mouth pressed into a flat line as you stared him openly. You hadn’t mean to come off as rude in that moment; you were just trying to gauge the sincerity behind his words, to explore the depth in his eyes, but Satoru must’ve took it wrong as he cleared his throat, “I can let go if you really want me to.”

“N-no! It’s fine…can we move? We’ve been standing here for ten minutes now,” Embarrassed, you pointed to the closest thing in your sight – a photo booth. “How about there? That looks fun.”

Satoru followed where your arm was pointed, laughing when a couple exited the red curtains while giggling amongst themselves. The guy even leaned down to steal a long kiss from his lover, and if you were embarrassed before, you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come back again right now. “You know, if you wanted me to be stuck in a cramped space next to you, you could’ve just said so. I didn’t bring the limo with me, but the Audi could be pretty small for us, I guess…”

You hissed at him in warning, “God, you never shut up do you?”

“It made you smile.”

“I wasn’t smiling!”

“Sure, mommy, whatever you say,” bumping his hip with yours, Satoru led you inside the cube. There were a plethora of filters to choose from; ranging from heart frames and ones that placed shades on your face. Not really thinking of what to pick, you reached out to press the frog hats one, but Satoru was swatting your hands away for the effect with heart emojis everywhere. “This is cute. We can show this to our baby once they’re born.”

“They won’t really know what a Polaroid is, Satoru.”

“It’s still sentimental!” he grumbled before clicking the camera icon, a huge smile already on his face until he saw you squished on the other side of the booth. Only one side of your ear could be seen, and Satoru furrowed his brows at you. “Come closer, you’ll be cropped from the frame.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Jesus, Y/N, don’t act shy now, I already fucked a baby into you,” mouth falling open at the vulgarity of his words, Satoru took the chance to drag you beside him. “Relax, you’re always so stiff. Our baby might come out frowning if you keep huffing like that.”

“You’re too close for comfort.”

“My apologies, I’ll try not to be included in the photo when you’re the one who suggested this in the first place,” he muttered playfully, booping your nose before he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He was close, too close, that his musky perfume filled the close space. You wanted to lean closer to his warmth and sturdiness of his broad shoulders; his mere presence bringing about a sense of tranquillity despite your words. You told yourself it shouldn’t be too bad to lean into him for just a little while, absentmindedly following him as he cheers, “Smile!”

One photo turned into two, and Satoru ended up inserting a few more bills into the slot to take more. He tried out as many filters as he wanted, acting as if you two had been long time friends from how easy it was for him to be around you like that.

You supposed it came from his heavy experience with women. You were so unlike; while he was open to touch and didn’t care too much about space, you craved it deliriously.

It was obvious none of this meant anything to Satoru. You were probably just another woman in his life, with the exception that you had a kid, but you couldn’t mean something more. If anything, he treated you more like an old friend than a lover. He’d said it himself before that you weren’t his type and you didn’t mind, so why did it hurt the longer you mulled about it? Sure, you may not be as attractive or luxurious as his previous lovers, but did you really not even have charismatic pull? Is it because you weren’t his type that he was so casual with you, while you on the other hand, felt like you would lose your mind at every little thing he did?

You watched as Satoru pulled out his wallet and kept the Polaroid of you both grinning at the camera, forming a silly heart shape with your hands per his request. It was silly and platonic – yet the gesture confused you to no end.

“Why’d you do that?”

Satoru’s hand paused. “Am I not allowed to…?”

“We’re not lovers. You can’t just put a photo of us in your wallet.”

As if to prove a point, Satoru pulled out more photos of his wallet and showed it to you. There were several more wallet-sized photos, mostly of his white cat with black shades, another of him and his best friend, Shoko, and the last photo was of him skiing. They were all placed in his wallet along with a small, faded out photograph of what seemed to be his parents from the younger days. You couldn’t understand why he was showing you this, much less how patient he was as he smiled softly at you. “It’s memorabilia. I keep photos of everyone I care about everywhere with me,” he said, pocketing his wallet back before gazing up at the night sky. “I like to think we’re friends, at least. We’re definitely not just boss and employee anymore.”

Then what are we?

There were so many things you wanted to ask. You always knew he was always this overly friendly and nice, but what did make you? What did a friend mean to him? Other than Shoko, who was his lesbian friend who was also the company’s resident doctor, you’d never seen him be platonic with another female before.

The realization made your mood drop.

Maybe you were right. He probably didn’t even see you as a woman, but what did it matter? You didn’t like him. You shouldn’tlike him. Even if he had no intentions of wooing you, Gojo Satoru was far too appealing for his own good. Being around him was dangerous for your heart.

“Wanna ride the ferris wheel? The night city always looks beautiful.”

He was just your boss...and you were just a friend. Things were going to be alright as long as no feelings were involved. You survived seven years of working with him with not a single moment where your heart fluttered when he spoke your name; a baby made between you shouldn’t change anything now. At the end of the day, you were both only doing this out of responsibility. Satoru was trying his best to become a supportive co-parent to you, and that was all it ever would be. Strictly business – purely professional – as it always had been and always will be.

Foolish girl, you could hear a voice whisper at the back of your head, don’t get too lost in his eyes.

“Y/N, are you tired? Do you want to go home now? We can just order dinner to be delivered if you’re exhausted,” Satoru tugged at your sleeve to get your attention, and you chuckled awkwardly, not meaning to have spaced out the whole time. Worry was written all over his face from the way his brows dipped, stunning blue eyes darkening like the night sky you both made memories under.

Don’t look at me like that...

“Are you okay? Do you wanna go home?”

“Yeah,” you chirped far too brightly than you would’ve liked. Right now, it was more of a mission of fake it til you make it. You would just have to keep exerting the same amount of effort into making this work for the baby’s sake. And if that meant pushing aside any budding desire for this to last any longer to focus on your ‘friendship’, then you would do it. Taking Satoru’s hand for the first time since the baby ordeal, you flashed him a genuine smile. “The ferris wheel sounds nice. Let’s do some sightseeing before the night ends.”

Neither of you speak inside the cab. Beautiful the night was as the city shone into awakening illumination beneath you, comforting you with the thought that in the grand scheme of it all, you were small. Insignificant. That somehow everything you worried about wouldn’t matter when there was a much bigger world out there, and you were but a fickle dot in the middle of its entirety. But that was you, and Gojo lived in a much different world than you did. For somewhere in the city, you could recognize several of the sky towers, buildings, and establishments owned by his family. He mattered in the grand scheme; you were a small factor in his world.

Glancing back at the man who’d been silent the whole ride, you smiled upon seeing that he was doing the same. Satoru was practically bouncing in his seat as he snapped several photos of the city, mumbling something about he’d never seen this view before.

He was so innocent yet so out there, igniting within you an urge to take care of him and wanting to be taken care of by him.

You’d already accepted that you may just never have him that way. That small, fleeting crush was like a butterfly – pretty look at, but damn near impossible to catch. You’d already stopped crying yourself to sleep over the new changes brought about in your body, that in a few months’ time, you’d look back into everything and see that everything had changed. The mistakes you made that night were still something you regretted because you wished you could’ve done better, but seeing him right in front of you now, there was only gratefulness blooming within. Grateful that he was right by your side, grateful that at least the father of your child was more than capable of giving them a comfortable life, grateful that he didn’t push you away like you expected.

Acting more on impulse than logic, you leaned over to press your lips on his cheek.“Thank you,” you mumbled, eyes closed as you let your lips stay there for a few more seconds.

His skin was warm underneath your touch, and when you opened your eyes, Satoru was gazing up at you with stars twinkling in the vast galaxy he called his eyes. You smiled at his reaction, watching as he reached a palm out to caress that spot your lips had landed.“For what?”

“For everything,” you crumbled,“You’re not a bad person, Satoru, I know that,” with shuddered breaths, tears sprung at the back of your eyes again. “I’m sorry for being so difficult. I just need time to adjust to…well, all of this.” Your voice cracked at the last sentence and you were crying before you knew it, face hidden behind your palms in fear he’d look at you differently. In his eyes, you were always his stoic secretary who didn’t even bat an eye when people gave you backlash after Satoru hired you despite the lack of a college degree.

This all felt new – to cry, to trust, to rely on someone – and there was a flurry of emotions you couldn’t quite place yet.

Scooping you into his arms, Satoru patted your back as your cries grew louder. “Take all the time you need. We don’t have to rush into anything at all.”

In the harsh world of conglomerates where the laws of business blurred thinner and thinner with each day, it was hard to believe that not rushing into anything would be possible. It was always a flurry of hurried phone calls, frantic preparations for emergency meetings, anxiety over presenting new proposals and hoping that your superiors would sign your documents so you could go about your way. Time was as imperative as money was to them, but Satoru had proved he could be beyond that.

From the moment you met him, he never treated time as if it was something that slipped through his fingertips. He enjoyed every second he had of his life, and perhaps that was why you hated him so much in the first place.

You thought he took everything for granted, when in reality, all he did was bask in the little things life offered.

This much, at least, you trusted him with. If he said there would be no need to rush and you could both take it slow, he meant it. Around him, time felt more like a secret whisper than a treasure you both had to seize to protect. The night drifted off until it was already midnight and the crew was ushering all visitors out. You and Satoru made it home safely and quietly, hands linked together as if it was the most natural thing ever. No rush, you kept telling yourself, and you plopped down on the couch heavily as you let your muscles relax from such a long, eventful day.

You stayed there for a solid minute or so when you felt warm hands take your heels off. Opening your eyes, Satoru kneeled before you, his fingers expertly rubbing and pushing against the sore muscles of your feet. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Your feet must be tired from all that walking,” he mumbled, looking up briefly to meet your eyes and tease your shoulder back. “Lean back for me. I’ll take care of you.”

Judging by the sentiment behind his smile, you figured it wouldn’t be harmful to enjoy this at least once. You’ve never gotten foot massages before but his hands kneading yours felt heavenly. You knew from experience beforehand that Satoru was quite godly when it came to the skills and magic his fingers brought, though this one was on a different level, and you were sinking deeper into the couch from the bliss. He was right; you were tired, and if having your boss massage you like this every night after dragging you wherever he pleased, then you wouldn’t complain.

The ringing of your phone made you sit up abruptly, surprising Satoru whose head you almost knocked into. “Sorry,” you croaked out sheepishly, “It’s my dad. I need to take this.”

“Do you need me to leave you alone?”

“Uh, no, you’re fine.”

Satoru gestured to your foot as you took the call, mouthing, “Should I continue?”

“Yes, please,” you answered back, palm pressed over the mic before you answered. “Hey, Dad!” Your father greeted you back with much enthusiasm, his energy heard even by Satoru who sent you small smiles and curious glances every now and then. A part of you wanted to ask if he was fine kneeling on the floor like that, but his knees were on the fur carpet anyway that it shouldn’t hurt him. He extended your leg and trailed up your calves, pulling a soft moan from you when he kneaded the flesh and rid it of its knots. His ministrations distracted you until you were nodding absentmindedly to your Dad every now and then, not really paying attention to what he was saying.

Then the call ended, and his last words kept ringing back into your head ominously. Satoru took quick notice of this as he tapped your knee, bringing your attention back to him. “Is something wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I...” you started, helplessly fumbling around Satoru. “My dad is in Tokyo. He said he wants to have dinner with me.”

“You don’t look particularly happy about that. Do you not want to meet your father?”

“I do but...”

“But?”

“I have to tell him about this,” you shivered, refracting your legs back to the couch until his touch disappeared from your skin. For a moment, you had the urge to crawl back to his heat, but you were restless, agitated. “About us. He’s going to want to meet you and I don’t want to hide the pregnancy from him either,” Satoru remained unmoving as you rambled, and you hid your face behind your arms again as you remembered the rules you asked him to follow. “Listen, I’m sorry if I sound unfair right now, I know I said I didn’t want anyone else knowing—”

Warm lips brushed over your knuckles, large hands peeling your wrists to reveal your face. “Hey, it’s fine. He’s family and you can tell him. It’s not like your Dad would ruin your image or something like you expected to happen.”

“He won’t but...” you frowned, “My dad isn’t going to like this. I can’t guarantee he’ll be civil the whole time, especially towards you.”

“You told him about me?”

“A few years ago, yeah, when I still couldn’t tolerate you.”

“So you can tolerate me now?”

“Only a little bit,” you corrected, pushing his hands away as you opened your phone to check your schedule. It was mostly Satoru’s schedule, truth be told, but you were free for the most part tomorrow. Satoru could just longue back in his office while you clocked out early to meet your dad. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. On second thought, he doesn’t have to know at all. I’m only a few weeks in and it’s not like he’ll notice—”

“Y/N,” Satoru interrupted you, rudely snatching his phone from your shaking fingers. You would’ve scolded him had he not sounded so worried. “I did promise I would take responsibility for you, right? I want to meet your dad and introduce myself properly. As a father-to-be, I think I can somewhat understand that he might react strongly to this, but I also need to reassure him you’re in safe hands,” taking your hand in his, Satoru leaned into your palm, the smile he wore way too charming than what your heart could handle. “As long as you’re okay with it, I would like to meet him.”

“I’m sorry if he does something stupid.”

“Don’t be,” he reassured with a chuckle. “I’m sure everything will go well.”

It didn’t go well. Your father wasn’t throwing a fit or causing a scene like you originally feared, but the current situation wasn’t any better either. He looked like he was on the verge of tearing Satoru’s head apart, his grip on the bread knife so tight his knuckles flashed white. Your father was the literal definition of unpredictable and out of nervousness, you held Satoru’s hand under the table for comfort.

In complete opposition of yours, Satoru handled it with class and composure. His head was ducked down in respect, making sure to be curt and precise in counters to your father’s harsh accusations.

“I’m really sorry for everything, Sir.”

“Did you ruin my daughter’s life?”

Satoru finally tilted his head back up to look your father in the eye, both your hands turning cold and sweaty in between the seats. “Pardon?”

“I asked if you ruined my daughter’s life by getting her pregnant.”

“I would never intend for that to happen, Sir,” Satoru straightened up. From your perspective, he looked every bit the man parents would want their children to be with – handsome, elegant, educated, polite, respectful and well-off – but your father was no ordinary parent. He sized Satoru up like a predator hunting his prey even as the latter acted cool about it. “Granted, it was an accident and neither of us are prepared for this, but I promise I’ll take care of her. I take responsibility as the father and you have nothing to worry about.”

Your dad slammed his palms down on the table, the loud smack catching the attention of nearby tables. “How dare you tell me I have nothing to worry about?”

“Dad, please don’t do this.”

“No, he needs to know,” he snapped. Unable to help it, you groaned inwardly and scooted closer to Satoru, knowing where this was leading. “I lost her mother right after she was born; raised her by myself when I was barely out from high school. Rich men like you may never understand the struggles of taking care of a baby all by yourself, but I did everything I could to make sure she grew up well. My daughter had a happy, comfortable life. When she told me she wanted to follow her dreams in Tokyo, I supported her, and then you go take everything away from her because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself? You dare defile her like that?”

“Dad!” you roared, clutching Satoru’s hand who’d gone limp. “It was equally my responsibility as it is his! I wanted this; we both got carried away but we’re doing our best, so please stop being difficult to us.”

“You wanted this?” he laughed dryly, “A child with this man you kept moaning to me about; the same man who went to clubs every night while he left you all by yourself to work, to clean up his mess from him? You wanted him?”

“Dad,” you gritted your teeth, nails sinking down onto your thigh. Satoru remained silent between you both, although you could feel his burning gaze penetrating through the back of your skull. “It’s both our mistake. But this child...we don’t see it as that. We like to view it as a blessing. It may be true we harbour no affection for one another, but we want to be good parents. That’s all you need to know and I find no reason to explain myself to you. If you have nothing else to say, you can go back home. I’ll pay for your ride,” slamming down a few bills his way, you glared at your father, who shrunk back at the anger radiating off of you. “You’re not welcome here, Dad. Just go back home.”

“I’m just worried for you.”

“You don’t have to. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“I never said you were,” he sighed, rubbing the sides of his temples. “But he just took all your opportunities away from you! What about your dreams? What about your plan of having your own career once you have enough experience? What about—”

“Are you implying that because I’m pregnant, suddenly I’m not qualified to fulfil my goals?”

“Sir,” Satoru cut you off, releasing your hands as he leaned forwards on the table, becoming more and more like the CEO he was trained to be – all authority and gentle command that won the hearts of multiple investors. “I assure you that I won’t be holding your daughter back from the things she wants to achieve. As her co-parent, I’m perfectly capable of supporting her in the dreams she wishes to achieve. I’ve worked with her for years; I know she can reach for the stars if she wanted.”

Your mind blanked.

“Young man, don’t talk to me as if you know my daughter better than I do,” your father scorned, “I’m not questioning your capability to support her, but what about your credibility? How can you assure me you’ll really be there for her? How can you assure me you won’t leave my daughter stranded in the middle of nowhere? How can you assure me you can protect her from the harsh criticism of society? Money can’t provide nor does it solve anything,” your father copied his gesture by leaning forward, but it was to poke Satoru’s chest. “From what I’ve heard about you, I suppose you understand perfectly well why I don’t trust you.”

“Sir, I do plan on marrying your daughter and to give her the life she deserves,” Satoru confessed, effectively stealing from you the ability to speak as he glimpsed your way. “If she lets me.”

“You’ll marry her? Be faithful to her as your wife and have a family? Are you sure you can do that?”

“Yes, Sir, I’m highly confident I can. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Then that’s all I need to know,” your father leaned back in your seat, arms crossed against his chest and a stern expression on his face. “And if I find out you hurt or make my daughter cry in any way, I’ll beat up that pretty face of yours. I have two more sons that’re willing to do the same, if you don’t watch your actions.”

Satoru beamed at your father’s ‘approval.’ “I’ll face any consequence if I fall short on my duties, Sir, but I assure you, it will never have come to that.”

“So we’ve come to an agreement?”

The two men linked and shook hands across the table, completely disregarding the fact you were right beside him. You were beyond appalled, but mostly hurt that you’d been reduced to this way. And they were unaware of it, too, sickening and satisfied yet tense smiles were masked on their faces as they decided your future.

You stood up and left the restaurant.

You kept walking as fast as you could in the cold night, hands shoved into the coat of your pockets. Thousands of pin needles pricked at your heart and your skin the more you replayed the memory in your head. How stupid were you to think that Satoru would be different? And marriage? Was he serious? It all made you sick to the core to the point you wanted to throw up and disappear, until a heavy set of footsteps echoed behind you and tugged your wrist.

“Y/N, wait!” Satoru panted, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “What’s wrong with you? You just up and left—”

“Seriously, Satoru, you’re asking me that?” your face fell flat at his cluelessness, “What’s wrong with you? You men are sickening; planning my entire future like that right in front of me as if I don’t have a say in what I want. None of you asked if I’m okay with this. You really went ahead deciding we’ll get married when I told you already, I don’t want to marry you and I never will!”

Satoru brushed a hand over his hair, a hand on his hip. You could tell his patience was being tested – after being verbally harassed by your father and now with you pushing back in the same heat, it was only a matter of time before he lost his cool. Surprisingly enough, however, his voice remained levelled as he sighed. “What did you expect me to do back there? Tell your father that we’re just going to be roommates and raise a child together as if we’re not already family?” he defended, words slow and pronounced with a hint of hurt behind them. “I respect you and I truly do want to be with you, that’s why I wanted us to get married.”

“You respect me?” you laughed incredulously, “Are you hearing yourself right now? No person respects another by deciding what happens to my life without my consent!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask, okay? I apologize for it and I acknowledge my mistake that I didn’t give you much of a choice. Me being cornered and pressured isn’t a good excuse, but I wasn’t lying when I said I want to take care of you and—”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why do you want to be with me?” you demanded, “Why do you want to take care of me so badly? How did you even take this so well? You weren’t even that angry when I told you I was pregnant.”

Satoru paled. “Was I supposed to be? Should I have pushed you away and kicked you out my life? Is that what you wanted me to do, or is that what you expected from me, considering you’ve made it extremely clear I’m nothing but your airheaded boss and a man who always wants his dick wet, right?” the sting of his words pricked you both – you with your guilt, and him with his pride crushed. But he didn’t let on, didn’t waver and didn’t match your anger as his chest shook with impatience. “I’m trying to be good to you; I want to be good for you and the baby because despite what you think of me, I’m not the devil the tabloids make me out to be. I sleep around, yeah, but I wouldn’t go so far to turn someone away especially when I know I’m supposed to be there.”

“Satoru, if you’re only doing this out of obligation, you can be a good father without marrying me. Marriage is not a requirement; I don’t care what people say that I got pregnant without getting married. That’s the least of my concern, I just want the baby to grow up healthy but I don’t want to be involved with you.”

With how stunned Satoru looked, one would’ve thought you slapped him right in the face. That mere sight of seeing your boss tear his walls down in front of you almost made you feel bad, but you had to be strong.

You had to be firm with what you stood for.

“I really don’t want to be with you, Satoru. I’m so sorry.”

“What do you want me to do?” his voice cracked, begging and pleading as he stood before you, looking every bit of a man lost in uncharted territory. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Y/N. One moment, you’re telling me you want me to be a good father, and then the next you’re pushing me away. People are so sure that I’m a man who can never settle down because they believe I have commitment issues, but I’m telling you I can commit to you right now,” he held your hand, rubbing some of his warmth at your comparably cold ones. You didn’t fail to notice that he was trembling, but what about what you couldn’t decipher. “Are you really sure I’m the one here who isn’t capable of that? What are you so scared of that you can’t trust me?”

“Because you’re you! Because you’re a fucking asshole who’s been treating me like I’m an overworking machine and always expects me to undo your shit for you! Because you make me sick and I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t know what love means!” Exploded. You exploded. “I regret everything that happened between us that night. No, in fact, I regret ever meeting you at all.”

Satoru took a step back.

All the light and joy that fit so perfectly with him had now disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” he demurred, “I’m sorry that I’d been so repulsive that you’ve felt miserable for all this time. I’m sorry I haven’t been a decent boss and I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you.”

“Gojo, stop. Stop doing that; stop apologizing!”

“Then tell me what you want me to do,” he barked desperately. “Because I can’t read your mind and I just want to be good for you.”

“What if I don’t want you to? I don’t want you to be good to me, I don’t want you to care about me. Be there for the baby, but don’t involve yourself too much in my personal life. Stop asking me to marry you because you and I would never work out. We’re impossible, okay?”

“How do you know we’ll never work out when we haven’t even tried?” he pushed, “You never even gave me a chance.”

“You’re not worth that chance.”

If someone could receive an award for effortlessly trampling over someone repeatedly, you would’ve been crowned winner a long time ago. You had no idea what came over you as you spat all those hurtful words to Satoru, but did your words bear no truth? The fact that he no longer defended himself meant he also knew that he wasn’t worth it – that he wasn’t someone to be trusted. It wasn’t that you were completely unfair too; of course you considered it. Weeks of living under the same roof as him and you most definitely considered it. Say you did get married and became a real family – what then? It wasn’t a marriage out of love, but rather out of responsibility and obligation.

As much as you loved your child, you couldn’t imagine throwing away your future and living miserable for the rest of your life like that.

A life built on lies wasn’t a life worth living.

“I would never hurt you.”

Your heart cracked. After everything you said, after all your efforts to keep him away from your own safety, after all the hurtful things you’ve done to him, and he was still apologizing? Why did he have to make it so hard to let go? You were tired, so tired that you could no longer refrain your lip from quivering as tears caked your face.

“Gojo, please, don’t—”

“So if me stepping away from your life is what would really make you happy, then I’ll respect it. But there’s one thing I have to ask,” Satoru swiped a thumb under your eye to catch the tear. His smile was forlorn, his touch cold and words melancholic. “Do you want the baby? Do you...want to keep the baby and be a mother? You don’t have to do anything for me, I just want to know if the mother of my child even wants to be one. And please be honest, because everything you say right now are words that I’ll mark seriously.”

The word left your mouth before you could stop it.

“No.”

“No what?”

“I don’t want to be a mother,” you admitted, hands trailing over your belly. It felt like you were betraying your own child, but you hadn’t planned this. “I’m too young, Satoru, I-I’m not ready for this. With you there beside me or not, I really don’t want this.”

“Then,” he cleared his throat, turning his head to the side to catch a moment. You swore you saw his eyes shine under the city lights with tears, but it was gone so soon that you might’ve just fooled yourself with it. Once he deemed himself ready to talk, Satoru took a deep breath. “Do I have your consent that once the baby is born...it’ll be under my care? Would you prefer to reach your own dreams, then? You’ll never have to be a part of the Gojo family if it’s really not what you want, even though I could support you as much as you need me to.”

Your eyes widened at his proposition. “You’ll take care of our baby?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Can I...can I visit them, at least, once in a while?” It was more than just your heart that broke that night. There was no telling whether you’d hurt yourself in the long run with this decision. It was no easy choice to make – to actively pursue your dreams somewhere else more than being a mother. You wanted to do your best, of course you did, but it wasn’t that easy. Gojo didn’t have to tell you for you to understand that once you married him, you’d be expected to run the business with him and be involved in his family and their dramas. Now that wasn’t a life you wanted.

“You’re free to visit them whenever,” he promised, voice fading even lower into the background. “So is this it? We’ll just be living under the same roof until the baby is born and once they’re here...”

“We’ll part ways.”

“We’ll part ways,” he nodded in agreement, sniffling for a brief second before fixing his tie. The Gojo Satoru you got to know for a few weeks had now disappeared. Not even the goofy boss you spent seven years with could be found in the coldness of his eyes, almost as if he’d put up such impenetrable walls around him and nothing could pass through. The sudden shift in aura made your heart clench as he offered his hand to shake. “Okay. Let’s stay professional until then?”

“Yeah, Sir, I can do that,” your hands shook as you enclosed it around his, but now all the warmth had disappeared – from his eyes, his touch, his soul. It hurt, but this was necessary. It was what felt right. “Thank you – for everything.”

“You’re welcome. Anything for you and the baby,” Satoru proclaimed, perplexing you both when he suddenly pulled you in his arms. Just like that, the dam broke, and you were staining his precious suit before you could stop it. His arms rubbed up and down your back the longer he held you there, almost like a final moment to lean on one another before you had to say goodbye eventually. Beneath your palm, his heart beat exuberantly loud, so much so that you might’ve heard the prayers it whispered. “Stop crying now. The baby might feel sad too. We’ll both be alright – we just have to get through this.”

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aiorevelations · 3 years

Text

A Number, Not a Name: Part 18

Enjoy everyone!

4 months earlier:

Regis scanned the fragment of paper spread out across the table before him. Not even a month ago he was a desperate man chasing the shadows of his lifelong mentor. What he’d found in the jungles of South America had been nothing short of a profound revelation. The ancient words inscribed held the key to changing humanity. From the very beginning, he had believed deep within his soul that what Professor M spoke of was true. He couldn’t explain it. He just knew it. Though he’d never have suspected that the place which possessed what he sought was merely some speck on a map. A hamlet of small-town America. In the end, though the where didn’t matter. What mattered was that he attained his goal. Failure was his greatest fear. After what he’d sacrificed to get this far he wasn’t about to fall short an inch away from the finish line. Like Professor M had. When he stumbled upon he’d found a broken sickly old man barely clinging onto life. Filled with regret and sorrow that though he literally held in his hand the culmination of his life’s work, he would never live to see it. Regis had vowed that would not be his fate.

Fate, however, was a funny thing. Previously Dr. Blackgaard had possessed adequate resources yet lacked the knowledge he required. Now just when he had attained the necessary knowledge his funds were depleted. Alas Professor M had died, weighed down in debt, and without any assets to further fund Regis’ research. Dr. Blackgaard was one to keep his research away from prying eyes. The last thing he wanted was to inform anyone of his discovery. Who knows what might happen. Word could spread to the general public if that happened it was game over. Blackgaard was well aware however that the little venture he was starting in Chicago wouldn’t provide him with the funds he needed. The choice was before him. Either choose not to share his work and lose any chance of funding or take the chance and inform potential investors of his findings. When put that way there was only one option - the latter. “Blast” he muttered under his breath.

He rolled up the parchment and stood up from his chair, grasping his walking stick as he sat up. Pacing back and forth on the wooden floor he tried thinking of someone who would work as a potential investor. Blackgaard’s mind raced. Too many people had their motives and agendas they were trying to serve. The last thing he wanted to be was someone’s puppet. He’d rather give up his work altogether than be a pawn in someone else’s game. It has to be someone who has enough resources yet can be easily fooled. Someone obsessed with power and ambition that they’d do anything to obtain it - even trust a complete stranger. A person who is so full of themselves they’d never think anyone could bring them down. Sasha meowed, interrupting Blackgaard’s thoughts. He stooped down and picked up his faithful feline companion. Softly, he stroked her neck and behind her ears, prompting a deep purr from Sasha. “Oh, Sasha…Now, who do we know who’d be aware of someone like that.”

Blackgaard had a long list of reliable contacts. Men and women spread across the globe. People who were aware of plots and schemes of power and the people behind them. Blackgaard’s polished shoes thudded on the packed earth as he circled the jungle cabin, left exactly as it had been when Professor M died. Professor M’s research notes and documents were packed carefully in boxes that were neatly stacked. His personal effects and clothes were strewn throughout the room.

Regis placed Sasha down on the floor and walked to where Professor M’s trunk was located in the corner of the small hut. He opened the lid and searched through it until he found a notebook. He scanned over the pages looking for a particular name. An old contact of theirs who Professor M had known even before he met his esteemed mentor. They had come to value her greatly. Every secret or scheme going on she always found a way to find out. Finally, Regis' eyes landed on the name he was searching for. Blackgaard knew she was the answer.

…..

4 months earlier:

Liana stared blankly ahead. She was busy pouring coffee yet her mind was somewhere else. Today would have been Erik’s birthday. She tried to push it to the side and carry on waitressing, but the memories would come flooding back. Picnics in the park. Splashing each other in the lake. The way he’d shower her with flowers and chocolates on Valentine’s Day.

Liana had known she’d never be able to have peace until her father and all those responsible answered for their actions, but she at least thought with time she’d be able to have a sense of healing. Instead, the more time passed the more angry she became. She should be spending these years with Erik. If he was here she was certain they’d have been married by now probably with children. Living a happy and beautiful life. She’d been robbed of that life and forced to live a cold and lonely one.

“Liana!” Hearing her name, she snapped out of her thoughts.

“Uh sorry. Millie. What is it?”

“You’re pouring coffee all over the counter.” Liana glanced down and saw she’d overfilled the coffee cup, causing the liquid to flow all over the countertop.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She set the decanter down and grabbed some napkins from the dispenser.

“Are you okay? You’ve seemed distracted all morning.”

She wiped up the spilled coffee. “I’m fine.” Liana picked up the coffee cup and walked to a table by the shop window.

She set the piping hot coffee on the table. “Here you are, sir.”

“Thanks so much” the man graciously responded.

“Would you like anything else?”

“No, this is good for me. Thanks.”

“Of course. If you need anything please let me know.” She forced a smile and began to walk to another table where two women were waiting to order. Halfway to the table, she stopped. Her eyes were drawn to the television mounted in the corner of the room. An image of a man’s face caught her eye. His familiar features, grey hair, wrinkled skin, piercing black eyes, matched the image she’d seen in person on multiple occasions. One of the faces seared into her head for the last nearly five years. There was no mistake, the man was none other than Davit Dalmar. Below his image was the headline “Breaking News: Davit Dalmar, CEO and founder of Dalmar Petroleum, announces run for Krudian parliament.”

Liana found herself chilled to the core seeing his face. It took her back, back to that night. The worst night of life. She holding her dying boyfriend in her arms, knowing there was nothing she or anyone else could do. She bit back her lip and took a deep breath. No, she wouldn’t break down, especially in a Budapest cafe.

What was that expression? The past has a way of catching up to you. She’d always planned to go back. To go home. Deep down she knew what she had to do. That pain. That anger. That overwhelming feeling of loss. It was still there. Burning in her soul stronger than ever. She knew she’d never be able to move forward unless she went backward. Nevertheless, when it came to confronting her past she’d find herself paralyzed. Unable to go back. Memories of Krudia, her father, Eric haunted her. Every street or shop in Bulin came with some painful reminder. The very thought of stepping off the airplane filled with her dread and terror.

But now seeing Dalmar had served to remind her of the men she’d left behind. And of what she’d lost. He was a monster. Him and her father both. She felt another wave of anger surge through her. In what world was it fair that Erik was dead and Norvan and Dalmar were still breathing? How could someone be so heartless as to take him from her without a second thought? How could people, like her father and Dalmar, find pleasure in killing others? She may have thought the removal of some malevolent individuals necessary but never took pleasure in their demise only in the justice being served. One thing couldn’t be denied: her father and Dalmar were insane. They had to be brought down. Any reservations or fears she had, Liana knew she couldn’t wait any longer. She was done running from her past.

…..

Present-day:

Jason woke, tied to a chair. Ropes dug into his wrists. Beads of sweat trickled down his face, or perhaps blood, though he wasn’t sure which one. His eyes adjusted to the dim light. He appeared to be in some type of warehouse. Above him, warehouse pendant lights flickered the only source of light in the room.

It all came flooding back to him—what he'd prayed had been only a nightmare—The car chase, men shooting at them, Tasha slumping forward on the steering wheel ….

Tasha. His heart began to race and a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Where was she? He prayed she was still alive. He frantically glanced around him but saw no one.

He couldn’t help but wonder if his earlier actions had caused this.

He struggled to loosen the ropes that bound him. Straining he turned every which way trying to free himself. It was no use. He let out a scream of frustration and lowered his head. A feeling of helplessness and utter loneliness consumed him, His head throbbed but the physical pain he was experiencing didn’t compare to his overwhelming guilt.

It’s my fault. The words stabbed through his mind. I got us into this. I shouldn't have acted recklessly—Why didn’t I just stick to the plan? Why did I have to be so stubborn? He shook his head. I wanted so desperately to prove myself that I ended up screwing everything up. If I get out of this I’ll probably have to resign. The last thing the NSA wants is someone who can’t complete a routine mission, let alone their first assignment. Who knows, maybe that’s probably for the best anyway. Donovan saw right through me. My flaws and weaknesses…how careless I could be…and I proved him right. Now not only is the mission ruined but Tasha’s life is in danger because of me. If she dies I’ll never be able to forgive myself.

He glanced up at the ceiling. Right now he didn’t feel like he belonged anywhere. His whole body felt numb.

There was nothing he wanted to do, nowhere he wanted to go. Nothing mattered anymore, except doing everything he possibly could to right his mistake. To make sure Tasha was safe and if possible successfully complete their assignment.

Whoever was behind this would probably hurt him. The thought barely registered in his mind. He knew he should feel something. Dread. Fear. Anxiety. But he didn’t. All his thoughts were turned to Tasha. They could do whatever they wanted to him. It didn’t matter. He would willingly sacrifice his life without hesitation if it meant they didn’t touch her. At that moment he knew he was powerless. There was only one thing he could do. He bowed his head and closed his eyes.

…..

Tasha’s eyes darted around the room, her eyes landing on the metal door to the side of her. She felt something digging into her skin and realized she was tied up. Tasha lay against the wall struggling to recall previous events, how she’d ended up here. Her mind was blank. The last thing she remembered was leaving with Jason for the gala. She looked down at her clothes. Instead of the dark blue dress, she remembered she was wearing light pink pajamas. She looked around the room. The floor was layered with dirt. Cobwebs hung from the corners of the room. Jason was nowhere in sight. Who knew where he could be. For all Tasha knew he could be lying dead somewhere or being mercilessly tortured.

The door creaked open causing Tasha to look up. An older muscular man entered the room followed by a tall brown-haired woman.

It didn’t take a genius to guess what they were probably after. Information. Luckily, Tasha thought, she’d been briefed and trained how to resist such efforts. She sat up in her seat and braced herself for whatever was coming, though she couldn’t help the shivers that traveled down her spine.

Milena’s eyes met Tasha’s. Tasha tried to read them yet they seemed nearly expressionless. The man’s on the other hand were easy to read. They were deathly cold.

Milena spoke. “I have to say that was quite a showing back there. Very impressive. My hired men are known for their efficiency. You and your associate were their hardest targets ever by far.” She crossed her arms. “So congrats.”

Tasha kept a blank expression on her face. "You might as well just skip to the end. I’m not saying anything.”

“Who said anything about getting information? I’m not so stupid as to waste my time trying to get intel out of an NSA agent.”

Elias walked over to Tasha “Never saw that coming did you?”

Tasha looked him directly in the eyes. “Can’t say I didn’t. If I was in your shoes I wouldn’t waste my time either.” Fear trembled through her, but at the same time, there was a defiance in her eyes. Even in face of danger, she wasn’t one to submit or hold back on fiery comebacks.

A dark chuckle escaped his lips. He glanced at Milena. “I like this one. Too bad we can’t keep her around.”

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t be the best company anyway.” Tasha glanced at the metal door beyond Milena and Elias. There was one question she had to ask. Though a possible answer filled her with dread. Life had a funny, even almost cruel way of unfolding. Not even a few hours ago Jason and she had been going at it and now here she was worrying over his safety. Though she was still deeply angry and upset at Jason for what he had done, all that mattered to her right now was that he was alright. “Is…he okay?”

“He’s alive if that’s what you’re asking,” Elias replied.

A wave of relief washed over Tasha. At least she and Jason were both alive. When it came down to it that alone only mattered. A dark thought crept into her mind. But then again who knew what their captors had in mind for them. Perhaps it would have been better for him not to survive, that might have been a merciful fate.

Elias stepped closer to Tasha. Then, from under his black shirt, he unslung a small black pistol from his belt.

Tasha’s mouth began to run dry and her heart began to race. Elias twirled the gun on his finger, only increasing Tasha’s uneasiness.

She ignored him, keeping her eyes fixed on Milena. “You know, you seem like a straight shooter so I’ll cut to the chase. Why exactly do you need us? If you’re not after information I fail to see the point.”

Milena gave a small laugh. “Aren’t you a fast talker? Trying to hide your fear?”

“No, my boredom.”

Milena clasped her hands. “Let’s just say I need you both for a plan of mine.”

Tasha eyed her confusingly. “What kind of plan.”

“That would be giving things away now would it?”

“What things? Are you working for Dalmar?”

Pain flashed across Milena’s eyes at the mention of his name. It was only there for a second and was gone as soon as it came. Not before being noticed by Tasha. “Dalmar, that monster. Heck no! Your whole plan of bringing him down is still happening. You and Edward are just playing a different role than you originally planned.”

Tasha found herself shocked by Milena’s revelation. However, she made certain not to show her surprise to those in the room. Basic training - never show your opponent what you’re thinking.

Milena turned to Elias. “Would you give us a moment?”

He glanced from Milena to Tasha and back to Milena again. He placed his gun back in its holster. “Sure.” The door clanked shut behind him.

“I know what you may think of me and I can’t say I blame you. I’d probably feel the same way too…but I just want to say that I admire your tenacity. I respect what you’re doing.”

Tasha leaned forward. “Really. I would never have guessed. If you respected my mission, why interfere with it?”

“Trust me. I had my reasons. The justice I’d get from your NSA wouldn’t be enough.” She spoke, a hint of sadness showing in her eyes for a brief moment.

From the first time she laid eyes on her Tasha could tell that the woman standing in front of her wasn’t a hardened criminal. That there was something beneath the surface. It was obvious now she’d suffered some tragic painful event in her life. Dalmar’s doing most likely. Tasha thought for a moment about how to respond. She knew the words she’d say would probably not change her mind or course of action, but she had to try.

Tasha spoke softly. “I know what horrific things Dalmar is capable of…Sometimes it seems that men like him just end up walking away but that’s no ex—”

“Excuse for me to take the law into my hands. Yeah, I figured that speech was coming. Guess what, I don’t have time for it.” Milena said strongly before turning around and walked across the room. Well, that went well but pretty much how I expected. Tasha thought as Milena shut the door behind her as she exited the room, leaving Tasha alone once again.

#aio fanfic #Adventures in odyssey #adventures in odyssey fanfiction #aio fanfiction #aio #adventuresinodyssey #jason whittaker #tasha forbes

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just-mirko · 4 years

Photo

lavender petals - part 1

MASTERLIST

Mirko x Reader

Angst, Slow-ish burn, fluff,

WC: 4.1K

MANGA SPOILERS IN LATER PARTS

A steady and constant roll of tapping continued outside

where the rain poured down in fleets of cold water. The little drops all

together sounded like thousands of typewriters; the tiny stamps pressing fresh

ink stains into parchment. The storm did not only darken the sky but slowly,

the concrete was dampened into a charcoal shade and the glass windows collected condensation. The scent of petrichor had not reached where I was, but the

second I stepped outside I could already feel it overtaking my senses. have caused me to be

upset, and make me curse the heavens, but today, the rain started just as the

the shop was about to close, only 30 minutes till I would lock the doors and turn

around the little double-sided sign; switching it to “welcome” to “come back

later. I could not anticipate any customers would actively rush to my store in

the terrible weather, so I accepted it as an easy break where I could stay inside

and relax with warm herbal tea.

My shoes squeaked beneath me when I turned back to the

service counter. Aromas and floral notes were everywhere I stepped. Even if you

stood still, they still changed. orchids, roses, daisies, and violets all

dancing together in harmony.

Once I reached behind the counter, I could see every

corner of the shop in its array of colors that seemed duller than usual from

the lack of sunlight. Nonetheless, they still stood out against the dull pots

and glass vases.

‘I should be done for the day’ I thought to

myself, already having swept the floor, put out the new flowers, and clipped

the old ones before the storm arrived. An overdramatized sigh passed my lips

when I went to sit at the stool next to the register.

Sitting behind the register was always slightly

inconvenient, because blocking my view of the entrance to the store was a

large, and I mean large, bouquet of fresh lavender sprigs. They were normally

used as filler plants but had just come in today and I still could not decide

what to do with them. Additionally, I lacked a new arrangement to add them too,

so they were left out to stand alone.

By far they were the most prominent in the store. Their

sized rivaled all the large wedding table pieces we had. And the smell, though

calming, gave me a headache after being with them all day.

It is not like anyone would buy them either. They were not

as easy on the eye as a rose, three times as expensive, and once again,

typically used as filler flowers.

I settled on scrolling on my phone to distract myself

from thinking about what to do with them. I did not want to wait too long to

sell them lest they wilt.

‘Oh look, my webtoons updated.’

Fifteen-minutes passed quickly and mindlessly. Only 15

minutes till I could lock up and go home. The storm still had not relented, and

now, the rain was accompanied by large clashes of thunder and lightning.

These days life was quite simple. It was not exceptional

nor terrible, but a mediocre and peaceful existence that brought me the chance

to do what I loved. I had friends I visited occasionally, a small business that

was doing well with the white day just around the corner (an eastern type of

valentine’s day). But no matter how many

flowers I had, it wouldn’t quell the little part of my heart longing for

something more.

“CLASH”

The lightning what getting closer outside. It got louder

and louder, making me jump in my seat a little.

“CLASH”

The rain slammed into the ground, but something else was

happening as well. Something in the background of sorts.

“CRASH”

A resonating bang that sounded nothing like lightning

erupted nearby. A car alarm blared as well.

‘Could it be a villain?’ I asked myself as I look

over the purple blossoms to see if I could see what was going on from outside

my window. Alas, it must have been a street down.

‘Why would they fight in this type of weather though?’

Villain activity has spiked rapidly in the last few weeks as the League of

Villains had risen to power than out of nowhere disappeared without a trace. Not

to mention the capture of stain had encouraged many of the morally grey

antagonists to step out of the shadows in pursuit of their own type of justice.

Everyone had their own definition.

I tried to stay up to date on villain activity but so

much was constantly happening. Three times a week we got a new story. In the

beginning, the attacks seemed petty and selfish. Things like; “3 criminals rob a

local bank” or “Enraged fire-type quirk user burns down workplace” but today,

they were more organized, harder to stop. All the villains were working towards

a greater goal that was easier to see.

A little bit ago, one of the most popular quirks inclusive

department’s CEO joined the LOV after an all-out fight. Many were injured. It

was practically a bloodbath. Citizens remember seeing ice and blue fire merge

in giant tornados in the sky. The entire building disintegrated without a

trace. A witness with still in shock commented that she saw a UA student emerging

from the rubble, but that claim was shut down instantly by that student’s very

own teacher.

Unease was everywhere. People even began to stop trusting

figures of authority out of fear they might not be who they said. I was not a

target to any kind of villain myself, but who knows if I could become just

another statistic on the news.

Police sirens came into earshot.

I guess it was a criminal after all. Soon enough I would

be able to find a nice little article online detailing everything that happened

with a cover image of an unscathed hero smiling at the camera as if all were

well. How they tried to convince us that all was wel-

The chime of bells interrupted my thoughts when someone

came through the store door, very close to closing time.

When I looked up at them, I completely froze, unknowing

of what to do say, even think.

Before me stood… Mirko? Mirko. Mirko the Rabbit Hero. The

number #4 hero. The best female hero. And she was- Injured?

She stood with her shoulders rolled back but she was

panting heavily. Her platinum hair dripped water onto the pristine checkerboard

floors I just mopped. Across her, the skin on one of her shoulders was a crimson

slash. The blood that came from it dripped partially into her hair, staining it

slightly; and partially mixed with the water she was absolutely drenched in. She

looked cold in the light hero gear.

In her weak state, she still held an air of strength. When

I looked up in obvious shock at her condition, I was met with piercing red eyes

and a smile I would describe as manic on anyone else.

“C-can I help you—are you okay?” I stumble out when I

started to panic, realizing that she just fought the cause of all the racket

down the street.

My response only looked to entertain her, and she smiled

wider chuckled then pulled her hair over one shoulder: twisting it to ring out

the excess water (and blood).

“Yea, you do sell flowers, right?” She said. We were

obviously on different pages. She seemed completely relaxed as she was still

bleeding a watered-down red puddle onto the floor. Meanwhile, I was seriously

concerned about her health. Online, I simply assumed that every pro-hero held a

façade. That they were not as cocky, brave, or positive as they seemed once the

cameras were cut. This though was a spitting image of every picture of her I

had seen. Despite that, nothing could have prepared me for this in person-encounter.

“Y-yes I sell flowers”

I frantically scanned across the store for something for

my eyes to latch onto. My fingertips pressed hard against the side of the

resister to the point where my fingertips were turning white and my knuckles

began to cramp.

Mirko walked forward. Despite her injuries, she did not

have any limp and strolled casually over to some of the display stands

near the front window. I fidgeted with my finger while I stumbled over to where

she was. Her gaze we currently focused on some white lilies, though she soon

switched to some yellow roses.

“What is the, um, the occasion- For the flowers?” The

words tumbled out of my mouth. They felt out of order and out of place. Seeing a

hero in public is a strange thing. As amazing as they are, you always suspect

that there is an underlying threat of danger. You are both drawn to them yet

repelled by the hint. It's always ‘Why would a hero be here.” That wasn’t

the occasion now though. She was just- here for flowers? She was definitely just

off from work and needed a few band-aids; at most, stitches. My mind still had a

rough time thinking over why she so casual. I hoped this doesn’t happen often

for her.

Mirko’s fingers paused when she traced the outline of an

imported lily.

“A friend of mine got his ass beat up by a walking flamethrower”

The way she said that, so lightheartedly, with a slight smirk on her face, but

sadness in her eyes confused me.

“Is he a hero too?” I inquired; taken aback by the lack

of filter. It had nothing to do with the

flowers, but my curiosity got the best of me.

“Hawks.” She shortly stated before turning back towards

me.

A look of recognition must have crossed my face as she did

not explain any further and just continued.

“So…” She crossed her hands over her chest and looked up

towards me (we using Mirko’s canon height today cause she short short lol).

“What flowers would be best for ‘get better idiot’” Her

hair was still disheveled and soaking wet but the ethereal glow the rain seemed

to give her face made me want anything but eye contact. I shouldn’t really get

flustered so easily, but when a celebrity built like a Greek goddess steps into

your shop looking like she’s straight out of war…

“Well, I wouldn’t be able to make any custom arrangements

today because I’m closing-“I looked down at my watch for the time. “5 minutes

ago, but we have many premade sets and custom vases if you’re interested?”

I tried to seem chipper and avert my gaze from her hair,

bleeding shoulder, and foot that was insistently tapping on the wet floor, but

in between each word I stole a glace that did not go unnoticed.

“That’s okay, I’m fine with a pre-made bouquet.” I

fiddled with my thumbs once more. She was really giving me nothing to work

with.

“Any flowers in specific you like?” I asked, grasping for

straws. Mirko’s expression was perfectly neutral and ambiguous. Even if she

gave me a color, I could work off that, but all I had was a name and extra

mopping to do.

‘I wonder if blood will stain my tile’

What she said next seemed to fit with the personality I

was slowly assembling her.

“You guess.” And with that, she turned to look at more

bouquets and potted plants that lined the shelves.

The lavender! I thought, finally thinking I had found a

way to get rid of them but realized that may not be well suited as a get well

soon gift.

Hawks. Hawks. Hawks. The bird hero. The bird men. Red

feathers, right?

Because of the hero’s color pallet, per

se, I was drawn to red roses and yellow daisies, maybe some red and white

lilies. I found an arrangement I thought fit on one of the shelves next to a

window, where it was still raining outside. I carefully picked the flowers up;

their silky petals caressed my hand. Two petals floated down onto the floor as

I relocated them back to the assembly station.

“Would you like a vase with this?” I questioned. Her ears

perked towards me, shocking me in the slightest. Of course, it was not unusual,

but with how she seemed to hear me from across the room without turning her

head made me fear that she would hear my heartbeat racing in my chest. This was

a hero. A real-life hero. God, I hope I do not mess this up.

“Mmmhnn,” She said, inflecting that meant yes. I walked

near a shelf where we stored them and looked at the variety of glass, plastic,

and even porcelain vases reserved for special occasions. My eye was stuck on a

red one that caught the soft lighting of the store beautifully. I reached up to

grab it and held the cool glass in my hand. With the sleeve of my jacket, I

began to brush off some of the dust, ignoring the mark it left.

“Ooh, I like that one” I heard from behind me. Quite

startled I jumped, and the vase left my hand, seconds from crashing into the

floor. Before I could blink, Mirko had caught it agilely.

“The color is nice,” She said as she turned it over in her

hands, clearly pleased with having shaken me.

Honestly, the banter was a nice break from today. I guess

it would not hurt to lighten up a little.

“Yea,” I said with a gentle smile.

I had almost finished totaling her order and was putting

the flowers in the box to protect from the rain when I looked over at Mirko and

saw her quite intrigued by the lavender practically overtaking my desk.

“We just got that lavender in! It's fresh and quite relaxing.”

I hummed to myself, pleased with the wrapping I did on Hawk’s bouquet.

“How much for them?” She asked turning to me inquisitively.

“Well lavender isn’t normally sold alone but that’s about

10 arrangements worth” I said pointing to the sheer number of flowers. Upon

the counter, they were more than two feet tall.

“So?” She said, resting her elbows upon the table and leaning

in to smell the lavender even more. The ivory ears atop her head sloped

downwards a little more reminding me of a little puppy when they got pet. An

obvious show of their aromatic effects.

“Two-hundred, though I could definitely get you a smaller

amount if you would like, they’re sold twenty per bundle just because of how

hard they are to transport and a how delicate they te-“

“I’ll take them all,” She said with an aggressive smile

and firm shake of her head. There was a switch in her tone like she suddenly

decided she revealed too much of herself to the general public. I did not like

thinking that though. That she saw me as the public. Everyone wants to be

special sometimes.

“How was errr- work today?” I asked, clearly insinuating

my concern for her condition.

A small shadow passed over her face. Her eyes got a

little darker and the corners of her mouth turned down before her typical passionately

a confident smile came back.

“Nothing I can’t handle” Those smug words were

accompanied by a flourished wink that was embellished her white eyelashes.

“I heard a crash nearby. Was there a villain?” This time

she did not hesitate to answer.

She finished paying and gave me an address to deliver

them to tomorrow. One to a hospital, and one to a home address. I expected a

PO box and assumed her address was not something she just gave away, but that was

not the only thing I was warmly excited about. Instead of signing “Mirko” her

formal hero title on the receipt, She signed her real name, Rumi Usagiyama.

---

The weather was much more considerate this morning. When I

awoke, golden rays filtered light through my lashes into my eyes. The faint

sound of birds chirping and bustling people in the city below faintly reached my

ears.

I lived right above my flower shop, making my commute to work

conveniently. I chose to dress a little bit nicer today, opting for a cream-colored

turtleneck and dark washed jeans instead of my normal gardening attire. Spring

was right around the corner in Musutafu Japan. Winter was leaving and the city

was in the awkward middle state where it's too cold to wear spring clothes but

too sunny to stay in jackets.

Since yesterday was Saturday, I had today off, kinda. I

just had a few flower deliveries to complete before I could go back home and lay

on the couch eating watermelon sour patch kids (ichor itself) and reading

terribly done 9k fanfics online. (Wow! Our reader!! Is super!!! Self!!!!

Aware!!!!!)

My brain had completely blocked out everything that

happened last night, so when I checked my order list and saw Rumi

written in neat handwriting, my confusion was immense.

‘So, It wasn’t a dream then…’’ huh.”

I walked downstairs into my store. I saw a few

schoolchildren peeking in the dark windows since there were no lights on to look

at the flowers. I waved to them and then chuckled to myself when they left tiny

little handprints on the glass. Tall buildings could be seen across. A café, a

tattoo shop, a little library, and many small businesses that were nestled right

in the center of town where they got lots of attention. Around the back exist to

the stores were where most of the employees parked. My friend and co-worker had

called in sick this weekend, so it meant I had to do all the deliveries myself.

I went over to the storage room. A wave of cold rushed

over me and sent tingles down my entire body. This was always kept cold to keep

the flowers alive longer, but always hated retrieving boxes from there.

I steadily grabbed the lavender-filled box and stacked

Hawk’s arrangement box on top of it. The white cardboard stood so tall in front

of me when I held them I could barely see when I walked out the back door and

over to my car where I nearly dropped them loading them into my car’s trunk.

I clumsily got into the driver’s seat and started the

engine to head to the first address. Hawk’s hospital. Right in the center of

town, it was only 10 minutes when you accounted for traffic.

The hospital was the nicest in Mafatsu, with white pillars

and balconies on some patient's rooms. Only the best for heroes. When I got out

of my car and drew near, the building felt like it was swallowing me whole in

its large size.

My soft footsteps appeared insignificant with prestigious

doctors and nurses bustling around in choreographed chaos. When I got to the reception

area, a pink-haired nurse with a kind smile greeted me cheerfully.

“Hello! How can I help you today?” She began typing before

I even said anything. Maybe a prediction quirk.

“Hey, I’m here to drop off flowers from Mirko for Hawks?”

She nodded in understanding and scanned her eyes over my

body, then the box I was holding, all while typing fluidly into a computer. Finally,

her gaze broke and she looked down at a small printer that made a small sticker

with the words visitor pass in bolded font.

“He will be on the top floor, level 60 in room 219. If he

isn’t in his room, just call a nurse with the pager in there, he’s been getting

out a lot recently.” She rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“He really just wants to get back to work but whenever he

flies he leaves a trail of blood and feather in his path”

Her hair swished when she leaned over to give

me the papery sticker. Her fingertips brushed against my palm for a second

longer than platonic before she went back and waved goodbye to me. Her cheeks were tinted slightly pink.

The encounter made my heart rush but that might just because

it’s the first romantic-ish thing that has happened to me in a while. I mean

she was pretty- but we scarcely talked. My palm still tingled where our hands

touched though. I was so distracted I did not notice when I found myself in Hawk’s

room.

I had never delivered anything to a hero before. Should I

just drop them in and leave? My hand rested atop the doorknob questioning how

to do this. The fluorescent hospital lights desaturated everything including my

ability to make cohesive thoughts.

Just as I opened the door, I heard a shattering sound,

something collapsing, and then

“Wait no shit-“Another thing fell to the ground. “-fuck” I

carefully opened the door. To see Hawk’s the pro hero, clutching his side with

one hand, and holding a sideways IV drip in one hand, but the fluid bag itself

was on the floor, along with some kind of glass and a medical device I couldn’t

identify from the various dents and scratches on it. It did not look like he

noticed me yet, he was much too preoccupied.

“Hey should-“

“AH!” He yelled turning towards me. I couldn’t flinch

fast enough before three-foot-long red feathers with murderous intent came

spearing towards my head. Within that instant in closed my eyes prepared to be

dead but when I opened them up, the feathers were hovering just centimeters

away from my skull.

I shocked me that I was still holding the flower box when

I checked. My eyes were wide as I stood still, jaw open, not a single breath

leaving my mouth.

“Are you a new nurse or something?” The feathers remained

there. I gulped before answering, my body felt light, flight, or fight already taking

place.

“I’m a- a florist.” I gestured down at the box with my

logo on it, and he seemed to relax a little bit.

“Oh.” He replied and the feathers returned to beside him.

He tried to make the IV drip stand back up again, but in a futile attempt he

gave up, just letting it fall to the group beside the other tools. He turned away

from me.

‘He is obviously in pain right now’ He faced away just

to hide the scowl and how much he was now clutching his side.

He looked over his shoulder “Who sent you?”

“Mirko” I responded relieve that he was no longer about

to kill me.

“Where should I leave the flowers?”

“The table next to my bed” I stepped over there. An

assortment of papers where there is messy handwriting that I had no place in

reading. Nonetheless, I caught the words “Touya.” Too bad I didn’t know any Touyas.

I sat the box down and opened it up.

Luckily with everything that went on, I didn’t destroy any

of the blooms.

“Did Mirko say anything about me?” He questioned quickly.

As much as he tried to seem tough, he valued her opinion very much.

“Get well soon and all of that, nothing much, she was too

busy teasing me, you know?”

“Mirko was? Teasing you?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion

before settling into a knowing look.

“Ohhhh” He winked.

“No no, it's nothing like this I promise I just met her.”

“Mmmn k” He didn’t believe me in the slightest.

“Just watch out she packs a punch”

Hawks walked over to where the flowers were and observed

the arrangement. He had a particular fondness for the red lilies, the same ones

that Mirko liked. He talks about her punch though reminded me of the crashes

and villain attack last night.

“I hope she’s okay, she seemed pretty beat up last night

after the battle.”

“Eh, she recovers inhumanly quick. Something to do with the

rabbit in her.”

He looks over to me and paused.

“What’s your name?”

“(Y/N)”

“(Y/N Hmmm) He mumbled to himself like he was getting

used to the way it sounded.

“I can’t imagine this will be our last encounter (Y/N),

It was nice to meet you.”

I smiled graciously and sighed.

“Nice to meet you too.”

#bnhabookclub #mirkobnha #miruko #mirukobnha #bnha fanfic #bnha mirko #bnha x reader #flowershop au #kinda flower shop not really its just the reader who works at a flower shop lol ahaha #mirko x reader #rumi usagiyama #rumi usagiyama x reader #just-mirko #justmirko #Lavender Petals #pegahawks2020 #kinda gay

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stereostevie · 4 years

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A brutal childhood, a traumatic marriage, decades of racism: the singer has overcome it all on her way to the top. She lets rip about the people who have wronged her and the self-belief that sustains her.

It is a rainy Thursday afternoon and Mariah Carey is talking to me from her home in Los Angeles, her voice coming through my laptop. Is this the real life or is this just fantasy? (Sweet, sweet fantasy …) “Hello, good morning, good afternoon, this is a little unusual,” says a gravelly voiced Carey. You’re telling me, Mariah.

We are talking by video chat, but – as specified by Carey – without the video turned on, so it is pure chat. Despite her ability to hit the high notes, Carey has always described herself as an alto. Yet even taking that into account, her voice today sounds pretty husky. Is she feeling OK?

“It’s 6am here, and I’m awake in the bright light and it’s fabulous and I love it,” she says and makes an exaggerated groan.

I’m sorry you had to get up so early for this interview, I say.

“Well, darling, then let’s not book interviews at 6am if you’re worried! But please, it’s not you,” she says, and indeed it isn’t. The time and date of our interview have moved around so many times to accommodate Carey’s ever-shifting schedule that, for a while, it looked as if it wouldn’t happen at all. But at the last minute, it was decided we would talk at 6am her time, which I was promised would be fine because Carey is a self-described “nocturnal person”, so that would be 6pm for her. Alas, for reasons too complicated to get into, for one night only, Carey was a non-nocturnal person, so now 6am is just 6am.

“Typically I would have been working [all night] until now, but we had a situation and I couldn’t. Then I tried to get some sleep, but actually I watched the interview I did with Oprah. But it’s OK, it was just one night [of no sleep] and here I am,” she says. You don’t become one of the most successful singer-songwriters of all time – she has sold more than 200m records, and only the Beatles have had more US No 1 songs – without being a trouper.

Carey, 50, has spent lockdown with her nine-year-old twins, Monroe, named for Carey’s hero, Marilyn Monroe, and Moroccan, named partly for one of her favourite rooms in one of her houses, the Moroccan room, “where so many creative and magical moments have happened, including Nick presenting me with my candy bling”. Nick is Nick Cannon, the twins’ father, and “candy bling” is Carey’s term for her engagement ring, which Cannon hid inside a sweet before proposing. Carey liked Cannon’s proposal so much that she even wrote a song about it, called Candy Bling. The marriage proved less enduring and the couple divorced in 2016.

“Honestly, I don’t miss anyone outside, so I don’t care about lockdown,” she says with a throaty laugh. “But it’s difficult for the kids, because they’re used to three-times-a-year Disney World moments and stuff like that, and that’s just not the current state of affairs.” It is not. So Carey is conducting the promotional tour for her memoir, The Meaning of Mariah Carey, from her kitchen table, and if she has her way – and who would dare to argue? – this will be the last round of interviews she ever does.

“No offence to doing interviews, but what would be the point? I can’t articulate it better than I already have [in the book]. From now on, I’m like, ‘Please refer to page 29,’ you know what I mean?” she says. Carey’s deliciously shady put-downs are legend: her “I don’t know her”, when asked almost two decades ago about Jennifer Lopez is still the internet’s most beloved diss. Speaking of Lopez, her name is notably not in Carey’s memoir. Instead, when recalling the hoo-hah that led to their fallout, when a sample Carey had planned to use on her single, Loverboy, appeared on Lopez’s I’m Real, Carey refers to her as a “female entertainer (whom I don’t know).” So is her official position still that she has never heard of Lopez?

There is a pause, then stifled laughter. “Oh my gosh, can you hear that music in the background? It’s Sam Cooke! It’s fantastic!” she giggles.

Not only has Carey not heard of Lopez, she cannot even hear questions about her, it seems.

Carey’s memoir is about a lot more than score-settling (although she makes time for that, too.) “I don’t think anyone could have known where I was coming from, because I was always very, I don’t know if it was protective, but I was cryptic about the past, let’s say,” she says. No more. The youngest child of an African American father and a white mother, Carey was three when her parents split up. Her childhood was threaded through with neglect and violence, not least from her older siblings. When she was six, she says, her older brother knocked her mother unconscious; when she was 12, her older sister allegedly drugged her and left her with creepy men.

“I think my staying up all night started from having such a dysfunctional family. Oftentimes, whoever was in the house was doing whatever it was that they were doing, and that felt kinda unsafe to me, so I started staying up,” she says. Another legacy of this time is Carey’s obsessive adoration of Christmas, because her childhood Christmases were so miserable. When she wrote the monster hit All I Want for Christmas Is You, she wanted, she says in her book, “to write a song that would make me feel like a carefree young girl at Christmas”.

As a child, her biracial identity made her feel she did not belong anywhere: she was so self-conscious about not being black enough that she wouldn’t even dance, as she associated that with black culture; meanwhile, white girls at school taunted her with the N-word. In one of Carey’s – and my – favourite chapters, she describes how her mother did not know how to look after her young daughter’s textured hair, so it was often matted. Carey would look enviously at the white women in shampoo adverts on TV with their flowing hair. “I am still obsessed with blowing hair, as evidenced by the wind machines employed in every photoshoot of me ever,” she writes.

One of the most painful moments in the book comes in 2001 when Carey is having what the press described as an emotional breakdown. (Carey writes that she did not have a breakdown, but “was broken down by the very people who were supposed to keep me whole.”) During this episode, she rages at her mother, who calls the police. The police take her mother’s side: “Even Mariah Carey couldn’t compete with a nameless white woman in distress,” Carey writes. Is that how she experienced it at the time, or is that how she feels generally, that not even she is safe if a white woman complains?

There is the briefest of pauses. “Those are my words, so please refer to page 29,” Carey says.

Race is very much the running theme in Carey’s memoir. This might come as some surprise to those who know her solely from the mega pop hits such as Hero and We Belong Together, as opposed to the more revealing songs, such as 1997’s Outside, which addressed her feelings of racial ambiguity (sample lyric: “Neither here nor there / Always somewhat out of place everywhere”). “I can’t help that I’m ambiguous-looking,” she says, “and most people would assume that it’s been to my benefit, and maybe it has in some ways. But it’s also been a lifelong quest to feel like I belong to any specific group. It shouldn’t have to be such a freaking thing – and please edit out the fact that I said ‘freaking’. I’m not very eloquent right now.” I ask if she was at all influenced during the writing of her book by the rise of Black Lives Matter. She dismisses the question: “Interestingly, this book predates everything that’s happening now, and the book just happened to be very timely.” In other words, Carey hasn’t caught up to the times, the times have caught up to Carey.

Despite her omnipresence over the past three decades, it is possible that you have not thought about her ethnicity. This, Carey says, has been part of the problem: from the start, she was marketed by “the powerful corporate entities” in a way that played down her racial identity. What made this even more complicated for her was that the most powerful corporate entity in charge of her career at the beginning was her first husband, Tommy Mottola, then the CEO of Sony Music.

Carey’s discovery by Mottola is the stuff of music industry legend. The then unknown aspiring singer gave him a tape of her music at a party in 1988. Mottola tracked her down, signed her and, a few years later, married her. She was 23 and he was 44. Within just a few pages in her memoir, she goes from wearing her mother’s busted shoes to work to living in a $30m mansion with Mottola, which she decorated with enthusiasm: “Though by no stretch do I like a rustic look, I do have a preference for tumbled marble on my kitchen floors,” she writes. Adjusting to the high life was not difficult.

The hits – I’ll Be There, Emotions, One Sweet Day – were unstoppable. The Mottola-Carey marriage did not fare as well, imploding in 1997. Carey expands at some length on her previous allusions to Mottola’s controlling tendencies, claiming he would spy on her and that she was effectively a prisoner in the house. In his 2013 memoir, Mottola admits his relationship with Carey was “absolutely wrong and inappropriate” and adds: “If it seemed like I was controlling, I apologise. Was I obsessive? Yes, but that was also a part of the reason for her success.” Carey points out that she went on to have nine hit albums without Mottola’s controlling obsession. She writes that Mottola tried to “wash the urban” off her, recoiling at Carey’s increasing leaning towards hip-hop and collaborations with African American artists such as ODB. “I believe I said ‘urban, translation black,’ just in case anyone thinks I don’t know,” Carey corrects me. Does she think that was just for commercial purposes, or was something else going on with Mottola? “In my opinion there was a lot of other stuff going on there,” she says.

It must have been pretty upsetting to revisit that period during the writing, I say.

“Yes it was traumatic, but was it harder than some of the other things I’ve gone through? Maybe yeah, actually,” she says with a rueful laugh. “I don’t know if I’ll ever fully recover from the damage of that emotional abuse. But in my school of thought, you have to be a forgiving person.”

Carey is extraordinarily honest in her memoir, but the book is almost as striking for what she does not include as what she does. A lot of attention has focused on her confirmation that she did, as long rumoured, have a fling with the former baseball star Derek Jeter (“I’m not being shady, but he had on pointy shoes,” she recalls a little shadily of their first meeting.) But there is no mention of other boyfriends, such as her former fiancé, the Australian billionaire James Packer.

“If it was a relationship that mattered, it’s in the book. If not, it didn’t occur,” she says.

But you were engaged to Packer, I say.

“We didn’t have a physical relationship, to be honest with you,” she says.

And that is that.

Carey’s singing voice made her famous, but her penchant for being thrillingly, hilariously high-maintenance played its own part in shaping her legend. On an episode of MTV Cribs, she explained that she had a chaise longue in her kitchen because “I have a rule against sitting up straight”, and she has talked about bathing only in milk. Does she think she is high-maintenance – and, if so, does she think it is because she came from nothing?

“You know what? I don’t give a shit. I fucking am high-maintenance because I deserve to be at this point. That may sound arrogant, but I hope you frame it within the context of coming from nothing. If I can’t be high-maintenance after working my ass off my entire life, oh, I’m sorry – I didn’t realise we all had to be low-maintenance. Hell, no! I was always high-maintenance, it’s just I didn’t have anyone to do the maintenance when I was growing up!” she says and cackles with delight.

By now it is almost 7am for her and she is wide awake. I tell her I enjoyed all the references in her book to her enjoying “a splash of wine”.

“Oh, do you? Do you love a splash for yourself?” she asks, pleased.

I do, but I was intrigued by her description of a night out with her friends, including Cam’Ron and Juelz Santana, when they were all “high” on “purple treats”. What were these “purple treats”?

“A legal substance in California known as mari-ju-ana. It’s called purple because that’s the particular weed they liked,” she says.

And did she like it?

“Are you enquiring for yourself or are you asking if I enjoyed it?” she says, mock coy.

I am asking if you enjoyed it, Mariah.

“No, I hated it,” she deadpans, then laughs. “I’m sorry, but it’s obvious!”

I have been interviewing famous people for a long time, but talking with Carey is the closest I have come to how I imagine it would have been to spend time with Bette Davis or Aretha Franklin. There are lots of ridiculous modern celebrities, but Carey is not like that. With her mix of slightly self-parodic ridiculousness undercut with no-messin’, true-to-herself honesty, she is a proper grande dame of the old school. A diva, in other words. It is a term she has laboured under throughout her career, and it is unlikely she will escape it, even if people now finally know where she is coming from. Does she mind the D-word?

“No! Who the fuck cares?” she laughs. “Honestly! ‘Oh my God, they’re calling me a diva – I think I’m going to cry!’ You think in the grand scheme of things in my life that really matters to me, being called a diva? I am, bitches, that’s right!”

The Meaning of Mariah Carey (Macmillan, £20) and The Rarities (Sony Music) are out now.

• This article was amended on 5 October 2020 to clarify that it is in the United States where Mariah Carey is second only to the Beatles in terms of having the most No 1 singles.

#mariah carey #music #culture #pop and rock #soul

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bssaz97 · 4 years

Text

RWBY Ancestries Chapter 5 Part 1 of 3

* Hello everyone, here’s the new chapter of 2020. Sorry for late update and yes I know I’m evil for sliptting this chapter in three parts but I couldn’t find a way to include this chapter without it being too long to read. Also this will be interconnecting some characters we haven’t seen in this story. Hope you enjoy! *

*WARNING! Just a heads up we’re going to be seeing some sensitive material near the second half of this current part, related to abusive manipulation of family (Take a guess from whom) and if you are a victim of squeamish towards this kind of treatment I would advise skipping over the part I’ll mark as such ‘^^^^^^^^’, so be advised it gonna get fucked up.

- In Mantle, Wyvern Crash Site -

In a open space, a multitude of Atlesian Knights are shown to be dismembered, beheaded, and destroyed beyond any repair. In the middle of said destruction is the Grimm Queen looking very much disgruntled. Why? Well for one, she started the day with the best of news she had heard in over a millennium.

She found out that she had a descendant from her one of her once thought to be dead children and that they were in this kingdom. So naturally she wanted to meet the boy in person. Unfortunately she didn’t account for one important thing. She hadn’t left her castle in a very long time so....she got lost. One would think that with a kingdom with a flying city in the sky kingdom it would be easy to spot. Sadly that didn’t help much when said kingdom was in a land of mostly ice and mountains, so almost every landmark would look the same. Not to mention the fact of said kingdom to have multiple military battle stations all over the place, so she had a long time getting pass them all. She didn’t even attempt to attack them, since she was in a good mood, she was simply going to ignore them. Too bad the Atlesian military didn’t share such sentiment.

Salem: I swear I don’t know what’s more annoying. The fact the these machines share the same ‘shoot first’ mentality as their creators or the fact that they tried to bomb me out of the cursed sky!

Salem turns towards the Wyvern and sees it nursing its injury. Salem thinned her lips. This wouldn’t be good at all, with her only transport to this wretched kingdom not being able to fly it would prove to be a major setback. So with a sigh she approached said Grimm and placed her palm on the injury.

Salem: There, there my companion. Your time isn’t through yet. I still need your presence if I am to leave this place. So here’s a small comfort.

Her hand begins to glow a purple hue and slowly spreads throughout the Wyvern’s wings. Witb her magic she is able to heal the Wyvern’s injuries and makes them more durable, so that they wouldn’t be so vulnerable again. She removes her hand away from the Grimm and look towards it.

Salem: Good, good. Now I still require your assistance, I need to create a diversion of some kind to get those huntsmen off our backs. At least until I’m able find and separate my grandchild from the others.

The Wyvern nods in understanding, the Grimm begins to flap its wings and ascend to the sky.

- Meanwhile with Teams RWBY and JNPR -

Ruby: Ok everyone the Wyvern’s weaker now. So we can execute the next phase of the plan. Killing this Grimm and saving Mantle!

Blake: I have to admit this has been going to plan far more easily than I originally thought it would be.

Yang: Come on, Blakey! It’s us we’re talking about here. We probably just haven’t got the chance to really see how we’ve improved since coming here.

Weiss: Not to sound the skeptic, but Blake does have a point. This is going far too easy than what was originally planned for.

Ruby: What do you mean Weiss?

Weiss: I mean does this feel like the night that Beacon fell when we first saw a Wyvern. Shouldn’t we have gotten reports of multiple Grimm attacks all over Mantle and not just the Wyvern.

The group was silent after the former heiress made her point. It was true, they hadn’t seen any more Grimm besides the Wyvern showing up. The also haven’t heard any reports of anymore attacks going on over the comms. If such a massive Grimm like the Wyvern were to come to the kingdom, why wouldn’t others follow?

Ren:(Whispering) Something doesn’t feel right? The Grimm have never been this easy to take down. It’s almost like it wasn’t even fighting.

Nora:(Whispering) Ren, what do you mean? We saw the Wyvern attack the battleships when it got to Mantle.

Ren:(Whispering) Maybe, but back at beacon when the Wyvern first appeared their was a sense of dread in the very air. But I don’t sense that right now.

Nora:(Whispering) I guess I see your poi....have you noticed that fearless leader’s been acting strange.

Both look towards the direction of their blonde leader and they see that he seemed to be staring off to space again, almost like he was in some form of trance.

Ren:(Whispering) Now that you mention it he does seem unfocused. You don’t suppose he suffered any head injury when he landed on the building, do you?

Nora:(Whispering) He seemed fine from the landing though. But I think he’s been like this even before the meeting started.

The two of them have finally had enough time to question the subject before they confront their leader on his state of being. Being the more negotiating of the two, Ren lightly grips his leaders right shoulder. Unfortunately, Jaune was it paying attention towards any of them as he still seemed to be in some form of trance. Hearing a voice only he can hear.

???: Jaune, where are you?... Jaune?...Jaune?...come to me...

Ren: Jaune?! (Shaking his shoulder hard)

Jaune: Gah?! What!

Jaune looks towards his friend and sees that he has a very concerned look on his face. So does Nora and Oscar for that matter.

Jaune: What happened? Why is everyone looking at me?

Ren: Jaune you have been unresponsive to us for the past five minutes. Like you were standing dead. What’s going on with you? And don’t say it’s nothing because you were acting like this even before the mission started.

Jaune: I...something’s wrong...

Ren: What?

Almost like a crazed man, Jaune leapt towards the cockpit. Once inside the second pilot takes notice of him.

Pilot 2: Hey, you’re not supposed to be back here!-

Jaune: You need to turn us back right now!

Pilot 2: What? What’re you on ab-

Pilot 1: OH SHIT! TARGET ON SIGHT! TARGET ON SIGHT!

Both the pilot and Jaune see the Grimm Wyvern flying towards their ships at a very quick pace. Jaune sees this and moves quickly back to the main deck towards his teammates. But alas there was no time

Jaune: Guys!!! BRACE!!!-

Just then, as he was warning his friends the Wyvern struck the airship. Using its new armored wings, the Wyvern hit the two airships with a mighty flap of it’s wings, causing damage to the transports that contained both teams. The resulting collision caused both the airships to lose stability and the began falling out of the sky. One of the pilots see that they had lost one wing entirely, making them spin uncontrollably.

Pilot 1: EVACUATE! EVACUATE THE SHIP!

Pilot 2: WE DON’T HAVE TIME I CAN’T STABILIZE!

Pilot 1: EVERYONE BRACE!

*CRASH!* *EXPLOSION!*

- Atlas Academy, Battle Room -

Ironwood: Blue Hawk! What is your status, Blue Hawk! Gold Eagle do you copy!

Comms: *///Static///*

Ironwood: Damn it! (Slams his desk)

Qrow:(On Comms) Ironwood! What’s going on, did something happen!

Ironwood:....We just lost contact with both team RWBY and JNPR.

Qrow/Winter:(Both on Comms) What?!

Ironwood: It seems the plan didn’t follow through.

Qrow: Well that’s obvious enough! I’m going to go look for them.

Ironwood: No Qrow! You need to stay in position, I can send a team to look for-

Qrow: They won’t get there on time! Jimmy we both know that I can make it there much faster than you can assemble a rescue team. My nieces are out there, god dammit!

Ironwood: Qrow I know how much this means for you, but you need to think more cautiously. What if they are stuck under a building, there won’t be anything you can do to help them, this is why I have rescue teams for.

Winter:(On Comms) Sir with all do respect but our forces are stretched thin as is, and we still have a Wyvern flying around the kingdom, I think it would be quicker if to send a two man team.

Ironwood:...What do you have in mind Specialist.

Winter: (On Comms) Sir, send both Branwen and I to recover the teams. With my semblance I can easily be able to aid the teams if they are in any position where they are immobile. Just lend us a pilot and a ship to retrieve both teams.

Ironwood: That would be more faster than assembling a rescue squad in the middle of all this. Very well, I’ll have my forces keep the Wyvern occupied while Qrow and you retrieve both teams. But exercise extreme caution. We don’t know if this Grimm is intelligent enough to prey on smaller ships.

Winter:(On Comms) Understood Sir!

Ironwood: Ironwood out. (Turns off Comms) ...please be safe.

- Schnee Manor -

From inside the office of Jacques Schnee, said CEO was scrambling to get a scroll message through to his secret informant. Saying that he was more than ‘unpleased with the current situation’ would be a understatement.

Jacques: Arthur! Arthur! Answer your Scroll, damn you!

After for the sixth time of not receiving any response he threw the scroll towards his bookcase with a snarl, almost breaking the device on impact.

Jacques: Damn that man, why can he never be around when you need him! ‘Huff’

Originally their partnership was intended for the goal of making sure that he won the election despite his low poll numbers and keep his position on the council, frame Ironwood, and beat that vigilante leader Robyn Hill and her group of thieves. But what does he get instead. A GODDAMN WYVERN ATTACKING HIS KINGDOM AND THE DAMN CHEEKY BASTARD NOT RETURNING HIS CALLS! Was this the plan from the start to let him into his fold and then frame Jacques with this occurrence instead. His anger started to turn to paranoia.

Jacques: If somehow Ironwood gets word that Watts is alive and that I tried frame him, he’ll have me outcasted as a traitor....No he wouldn’t do that I’m still a member of the council and he has no proof that we tried to sabotage the election....but what if he catches Arthur, where does that leave me. I need to do something.

Jacques Schnee look towards his old portrait of a much younger looking version of himself. That was taken back when he was an ambitious up-comer in the business world, where he was able to skillfully manipulate his way to power through forming a close bond to the late Nicholas Schnee, the original founder of his company and the father of his wife and grandfather to his children. He helped the old fool during his last days, getting on his good side and persuaded him to have him take over the company and marry his only daughter. Clearly a masterful manipulation to win over the foolish old man.

While he may have been the eager and ambitious opportunist back then, he clearly knows that he was not the same man as he was back then. Where there was a youthful man full of vigor to Turing a small dust company into a empire, now resides a frail old businessman much out of his prime. While he was CEO of the largest company in Remnant, he no longer could intimidate his opponents with his power plays.

Not even his two oldest daughters considered him intimidating anymore, the former latched on to Ironwood’s side and the latter leaning on her new ‘family’ for support. While he still had Whitley under his influence, he didn’t see his own son being anything more than a tool to extend his control over the company. While the boy was obedient, intelligent, and talented in musical instruments, Whitley would never live up to his standards. While he spend many years having him and his other siblings to learn how the economic world works, only Whitley took those studies seriously. However, he could plainly se that the boy was much too eager to please and did not have enough spine to ever question why he was told to do certain tasks, didn’t help that he was much like his mother in demeanor than how an actual boy would act his age. The perfect pawn, but only that. His wife, Willow, was a shadow of her former self. He knew that if he didn’t break down the woman so much to the point of alcoholism, he would have never gone as far in life as he has. But alas he seems to have come to an end of his road.

There was no doubt in his mind that Ironwood will find a way to link this back to him and prosecute him in front of the council and he will lose everything, while Watts is able to walk invulnerable to any charge due to his powerful connections and the fact that he is believed to be dead. So really there was only one option left for him that he could at least save some dignity left. He moves towards his portrait and pressed a secret button on the bottom center of the frame. From there the frame moved to the side and revealed a empty suitcase and a black box. This would ensure that he will escapes this unscathed.

Yes, the only option now was to leave. Leave Atlas and all this old life behind a live the rest of his days in hiding in a safe house he acquired a long time ago in remote island off the shore of Mistral. There he could live a relatively peaceful life and avoid any attempt against his life or imprisonment. At least with this black box he could still have connection to his secret bank account and still live like a king.

He grabs his suitcase and pockets the black box, then closes his secret compartment and moving the portrait back in place. Jacques Schnee will finish his career his way, and that won’t be in a cell. As he goes to leave his office he opened the door and there he finds his only son outside looking like he was about to knock.

Jaqcues:(Shocked) Whitley!- For crying out load you nearly gave me a heart attack. What are you doing standing outside my office!

Whitley: (Steps back and looks down) M-my apologies, Father, but I was coming to see if you were in your office.

Jaqcues:(Annoyed) Well congratulations, you’ve found me. Now step aside I have important business to attend to!

Whitley moves out of his Father’s path and watches him go down the hallway to toward the main stairway. He follows after at a close distance but not too close to be shoulder to shoulder but behind him. He observes that his father has a briefcase, much like the one he takes to go on a business trip but he hasn’t seen this one before. Another thing puzzled him though.

Whitley: Father, what exactly did you mean by having ‘important business to attend to.’ We’re in the middle of Grimm attack.-

Jaqcues:(Turns to side glance him) Did I say you could follow me boy.

Whitley: N-no, of course not Father! I meant no disrespect at all, I was just worried-

Jaqcues: Well you did just disrespect me, right now. You’re following me without permission and you are also talking aback towards me. If I were you, I’d watch my next few words.

‘^*Trigger Warning: Scumbag Jaqcues Imbound**^^^^^^^’

Whitley keeps his mouth shut and does not look towards him. Knowing better that it is foolish not to do as he wishes. When he is sure the boy wouldn’t question him further he moves back towards the stairs. But gets held back again from his son.

Whitley:...But Father where do you intend to go at a time like-

*SMACK!*

Whitley jolts back from his Father and holds right side of his face. He could feel the stinging sensation of his cheek getting struck harshly across his face, not only that he think the strike may have stuck his nose as well. Causing a small trinkle of blood to run down his right nostril. He could feel wetness forming from the corner of his eyes due to the pain, but they don’t fall. He looks towards his Father who just struck him and saw the dead eyes stare he gave towards him. Quickly he looks down, now too afraid to look at him in the eye.

Jaqcues: Didn’t I just say to watch your next few words... Answer me when I’m speaking to you boy!

Whitley: Y-y-yes sir.

Jaqcues: ‘Huff’ Now what do you have to say for yourself.

Whitley:(Hold back a sob) I-I’m sorry for di-disrespecting you F-father.

Jaqcues:...Look at me boy.

Whitley:(Looks at Jaqcues)

Jaqcues: Now what have you learned. Once again, for the eleventh time.

Whitley:... It’s f-foolish not to do a-as Father asks.

Jaqcues:(Nods) Now go clean yourself up before any of the help or your mother sees you. Or we’ll have a repeat of what happened last time when Klein was let go after seeing your correction for letting your sister leave.

Whitley:(Nods shakily, holding back more sobs) Y-yes, Father.

Jaqcues: Now you may leave.

Whitley turns around and heads towards his bedroom to tend to his nose. As he usually does. Alone, and holding back sobs.

Jaqcues: Such a waste of DNA. Maybe I should have had that operation to stop having children.

‘^^Trigger Warning Ended ^^’

Jaqcues now with this son out of the way makes his way down the main stairway. But once again he stops dead in his tracts, not by any of his help or family. Rather by a unfriendly looking group of people. Consisting of two youths, a Faunus, and a familiar looking bastard.

Watts: Hello Jaqcues. We have much to discuss. Hope you don’t mind us spending the night.

- End of Chapter 5 Part 1 of 3 -

* Oh lord that was hard to write, hope you all enjoyed the first half of the chapter. The second half I’ll admit was hard to write for me personally, so if you want to skip that part if you don’t wish to see sensitive material, please by all means skip it. Anyway I’m going to have part 2 uploaded around two days from this post so stay tuned. Be good people *

#rwby theory #team rwby #team jnpr #james ironwood #winter schnee #qrow branwen #salem #jacques schnee #TRIGGER WARNING SCUMBAG JAQCUES #jaune is salem's descendant theory #rwby ancestries

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cflvst · 4 years

Text

[Megan Fox, 32, bisexual, cisfemale, she/her] Well look at that! ANDREA DAVIS is checking in all alone. I wonder who she’s going to be cosying up to then. Luckily for our other guests, she’s real into PUBLIC SEX & DIRTY TALK, even if she hates DADDY/MOMMY & FEET. The SWITCH is typically described as CHARISMATIC & PLAYFUL though I’ve heard rumors she can be DISTRUSTING & BOSSY. I think she’ll fit right in here regardless!

CHARACTER SYNOPSIS:

Intelligent, hard-working, independent, sleek, charming, charismatic, beautiful, flirtateous, confident, hedonistic and bold: Andrea Davis appears forthcoming, much like an open book, when that’s far from the truth. None of her maneurs in the resort let people know of her compassionate nature, the burning passion in her veins, her need to create or her difficulty to adapt. Her mind is always running, processing, worrying about fifty different things at once. She doesn’t anyone know that she’s even struggling to begin with, though. On the outside, she’s handling it all: her ever-growing business, her estranged friendships, the loss of her parent and her failed engagement.

At just 32 years old, she has managed to be the CEO of a restaurant chain called “Daphne’s Kitchen” with three successful stores and a forth on the way. It all started with a recipe book of her great-great grandmother named Daphne: a traditional Greek woman who fed nine children. It was said that her cooking smelled so good that the whole village knew what she was making. That book ended in Andrea’s arms from her grandma and it became her saving grace. For Andrea, who could cook basic recipes before she could write. For Andrea, who didn’t want to waste her youth in more studies than necessary. For Andrea, who was seeking for a lifeboat after she’d just left life ( and love ) on the road behind. Her first love, the one who’d taken her with him on tours, the one who didn’t show any ounce of envy when she shone on stage by his side... He broke her heart to pieces when he cheated, and her mind to bits because she should’ve known. She got her revenge by bedding his bandmate. She got it by ruining them and then fleeting from their lives, even if the act itself hollowed her chest into a bottomless pit.

She’s doing her best to rebuild herself, remember who she was. Singing is over. Her beloved life on the road is over. At 22, she attends a culinary school and graduates with flying colors and a bachelor’s degree 4 years later. At 26, she dates again. It’s serious this time, not another fling of the many she had to sate her needs. This one is sweet, funny, compassionate and supportive.

Only few months later her grandma passes away and leaves that handwritten book to her. An idea blooms in her head and blossoms quickly, like flowers that are basking in fresh water, good soil and warm sunlight. He’s there by her side, her boyfriend, supporting her to do what she wants. Those traditional recipes meet another hand that knows how to cook and, after a few more months of preperation and good marketing, the first restaurant opens. It’s only the beginning of her upcoming success, along with a schedule that left little to no time for a breather.

The first restaurant goes so well that eight months later the first expansion begins. Andrea is the head chef and the CEO of two businesses that need coordination ( thank god for the business courses she took online a few years ago ). Her work becomes her world as the person who brightened it the most at the time proposed. ( Now she knows it came from a place of insecurity or fear of losing her. It had to be a power move to keep her tied when she started becoming too successful. ) She jumped head-first, saying about a million yeses.

Her father dies at June 13th of 2018 from a heart attack. That simple, that sudden, that devastating. The wedding, planned on September of 2018, gets postponed for the following year. Andrea drills herself deeper in the heart of her work, searches frantically for her sanity in longer hours, bigger projects, more expansions. Her fiance isn’t supportive anymore. He hardly sees her; he’s hardly been seeing her for a long time. They drift apart, further and further. Andrea doesn’t mean to neglect him, she really doesn’t. She tries, but it’s like the distance between them grew to a point of no return. On November of 2019, he confesses that he’s been in a parallel relationship with a woman he met online. Any constant Andrea had back home, collapses. She breaks the engagement, kicks him out and burns the things he left in her apartment in a box.

Summer of 2020: A fourth restaurant is in the talks but, alas, Andrea finally listens to her marketing business partner Kasia who’s been chanting about a heaven-like resort where she and her husband go when they get the chance. She shouldn’t grieve the loss of a love that wasn’t the one. At times like this, she misses the vengeance-seeking young woman she used to be while her spirit couldn’t be tamed.

EXTRA LINKS:

&& statistics.

&& bdsm test results.

&& cabin.

#delightedintro #( i: andrea. )

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euphoria-vmin7 · 5 years

Text

Spectrum | ksj

pairing: kim seokjin x reader

genre/warnings: fluff, soulmate! au, non idol! au, JUST FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF

words: 3,171

--summary: you’ve spent your entire life watching everyone around you meet their soulmate and after years of waiting, you’ve finally given up. But maybe, you shouldn’t let your soulmate go just yet...

a/n: this is my first soulmate au fic and I tried my best haha. I hope you guys like it!!

Spectrum

spec·trum

n. a band of colors, as seen in a rainbow, produced by separation of the components of light by their different degrees of refraction according to wavelength.

You never really understood the whole soulmate thing. How childish was it for one to believe that there was a match for every single person in the world somewhere? How does that even work? You had initially thought of the idea of soulmates to be a very romantic thing. Especially when you were a young child and the idea of meeting a perfect person seemed totally logical and realistic. You thought it would be such an amazing feeling to be able to lay eyes on that one person and once you figured out who it was. The way one touch could change your entire perspective on the boring and dull world.

But over time, you lost that fantasy. You watched as everyone who you grew up with found their soulmate. Watched the way their eyes took in the world in a totally different way as they were allowed to fill in the dull black and white they had been used to seeing with varied shades of the rainbow spectrum. Alas, your vision was left the same. Unchanged.

Your hope dwindled until there was none left. You had been forced to believe that you were just one of those very rare and very unlucky people who never got the opportunity to find their soulmate. Even if someone’s soulmate was on the other side of the world, people would somehow find them. But for you, whether that person be across the sea or in your own city, it didn’t seem like there was such a person.

“This is your stop, Miss,”

The gruff voice of the taxi driver snapped you out of your soulmate thoughts. You wanted to kick yourself for even falling a little into those deep ideas. You briefly thanked him and handed him the desired change before stepping out into the cold. The frosty air nipped at your cheeks and you pulled your jacket around your body as your eyes raked over the tall skyscraper in front of you. Nerves started rattling at your chest and you took a deep breath in attempts to calm yourself.

You took some steps to get inside, feeling the ground crunch underneath your boots before you pushed open the large doors and the heat burst across your cold skin. You quickly made your way to the front desk where a serious looking woman sat, typing away on her computer.

“Uhm hi?”

You attempted to get her attention. She looked up with a not-so-pleased expression, but it softened with realization upon seeing you and a comforting smile stretched across her face.

“Hello (Name)-sshi. You’re on the 11th floor. There will be someone waiting for you up there,”

You smiled and nodded in thanks before stepping into the elevator.

When you did make it up to the 11th floor, there was indeed someone waiting for you. You looked at the male in front of you. He was a couple inches taller than you, and had an easy-going smile on his face. When he saw you step out of the elevator, he smiled wider.

“Hi!” he said cheerfully.

“Hi,” you responded back.

“I’m Hoseok. I’m here to help you out since it’s your first day,” he said.

“Oh thanks!”

“No problem. So our office is this way…”

And over the course of the day, Hoseok had indeed made you feel very comfortable. He was a fun guy to be around. He explained everything about the company you worked for and what to do in certain situations. After getting past the initial awkwardness, you guys shared many laughs and even relayed some personal chats as well. When he asked you if you had found your soulmate, your heart had dropped slightly before you answered with a hesitant no. But to your surprise, he only smiled even wider and excitedly told you that he hadn’t either.

“Wow really?! Me neither!! I didn’t think there would be anyone else my age who didn’t find theirs. It’s nice to know I’m not alone!!”

Your mood lifted slightly at that statement and you found yourself smiling in agreement.

And over the course of the next few months, you and Hoseok had bonded greatly. You could say that now he was considered to be one of your closest friends. The relationship between the two of you stretched into not only professional, but great friends that did a lot together outside of work.

And it was an obvious thought. With the two of you getting along so quickly and so well, and the two of you not having a soulmate, the thought was not entirely unrealistic. He had been the one to ask though, and after an experimental touch, you realized that it was not the case. You and Hoseok were not soulmates.

It made you feel slightly upset. Not because you had deep romantic feelings towards Hoseok or wanted to be with him, but because the idea of having a soulmate with whom you got along so well seemed pleasurable. You trusted and cared for Hoseok a lot, just as he felt about you, so you didn’t think there would be any downside if he was your soulmate. Alas, fate can be unkind, and you were left with that same feeling of dwindling hope that you had gotten used to all your life.

That doesn’t mean that your relationship with Hoseok changed. No, on the contrary, it only strengthened the bond between you two. He was the one who would always give you pep talks and insist that you had a soulmate out in the world waiting for you whenever you felt upset about it. You really appreciated him.

It was now, into the first 4 and ½ months later that you had been working under the company, that Hoseok and you found yourselves laughing loudly with each other about some stupid thing. Your fingertips had stilled over your keyboard for a long time, longer than you expected. So when you heard the phone on your desk start ringing loudly, you could only clear your throat trying to subdue the light chuckles that emerged from your lips from Hoseok’s previous statement as you pulled the phone up to your ear.

“Hello?” you had asked with an easy-going smile.

“(Name)-sshi?! What are you doing?! Where are the documents that Mr. Kim wanted 2 hours ago?! Why haven’t they been submitted?!”

The feminine voice that rung out immediately made your heart drop and blood run cold.

“O-Oh my gosh. I totally forgot!! I-I haven’t even finished them yet!!”

The female let out a sigh that sounded genuinely worried.

“(N-Name)-sshi, he’s really annoyed. He had an important meeting with some clients and he expected those documents to be finished and ready for him. But when they weren’t there...he had to ask them to go. He was really embarrassed,”

You felt panic rise in your throat as you met Hoseok's confused and worried eyes.

“W-What should I do?”

Another sigh.

“I...I don’t know. Just...good luck,”

And the line disconnected. You sighed stressfully and put your face into your palms before relaying the entire conversation to the male next to you. He looked to be just as scared as you, before he started advising you to hurry up and finish them at least now. It was in another 1 and ½ hours when you finally did finish those documents. You didn't know what to do with them though, not wanting to go face your angry boss with late work, so you kept it to the side. Looking at the influx of other work you had to do, you sighed before beginning to work on that.

In about half an hour, your phone rang once again.

“Hello?”

“He’s calling you to his office,”

You gulped and hung up the phone before shakily grabbing the documents he had wanted and beginning your journey there. Despite working at the company for more than 4 months, you had never really gotten to interact much with Mr. Kim. Considering he was the CEO, he hardly ever was in a situation in which he needed you for anything. From what you had gathered though, he was a fairly nice guy, but when he got angry, it could be devastating. And that’s what you were worried about.

You reached the door to his office and raised a shaky fist before rapping your knuckles against the wood. You heard a brief word that allowed you to enter so you did as told and opened the door.

It’s not like you have never seen Mr. Kim before. You had. In fact, even if you didn’t, you could still probably figure out the way he looked from all the talk about him amongst the female population of your company. They weren’t wrong in the descriptiveness though.

Despite the look of irritation that was laced across his face, you had to admit he was probably the most handsome person you had ever seen. Dark hair, dark eyes, and light skin. The urge to see in color was powering. You hated seeing people in only black and white.

The tall male cleared his throat and looked at you and you immediately snapped out of it and looked back at him nervously. He was going to fire you. Not only was that a client meeting, but a client meeting he had been preparing for since you joined, all those months ago. You were definitely fired.

He sighed.

“(Name)-sshi. What happened today?”

You gulped.

“Uh I-I didn’t finish the documents on time,”

“And why is that?”

“I….I don’t know,”

You did not want to say that you were goofing off with Hoseok in fear of getting him in trouble as well.

“Don’t worry. You’re not in much trouble,”

“W-What?”

“Someone told me they saw you with Mr. Jung today. Since you are the new one and Mr. Jung should be guiding you, it’s not fair that I punish the newbie when he was the one distracting you instead,”

Your face morphed into a defending frown.

“I-I’m sorry, Sir. I know this was really important for you and the company and I completely understand if you want to fire me but please don’t do anything to Hoseok. It wasn’t his fault, it was mine. He completed all of his work and I asked for him to keep me company. It was my own fault for getting distracted and I take all the responsibility,”

Mr. Kim’s eyebrows raised slightly before his hues narrowed.

“Hmm. Is there something going on? We don’t have too many strict rules regarding relationships between employees but if there is a situation which regards helping an employee out of a situation just because you are in a relationship. That is not allowed. Are you and Mr. Jung, perhaps soulmates?”

Your cheeks flared with heat as you immediately shook your head in denial.

“N-No Sir!! I mean, we are very close friends, but not soulmates! I am being totally honest!!”

Mr.Kim hummed in acknowledgment before he nodded.

“Very well, I’ll let you off this time but it is your last time, (Name)-sshi. You may leave,”

“Thank you, Sir!”

And with those rushed words you scurried out of the office, nerves finally disappearing as you let out a deep breath. You got lucky.

Your time working under the company was the same every day, but you didn’t hate it. On the contrary, you had learned to love the way your life played out. And that was without a soulmate. Having Hoseok and a couple of other close friends from around the office made your life very enjoyable. You ended up forgetting that sting of loneliness and incomplete feeling that came without having a partner. You didn’t necessarily mind it anymore.

After your slip up with the CEO, you stayed on top of your work, making sure to submit everything on time and proper. The attentiveness even earned you some compliments from Mr. Kim, to your pleasant surprise. Seeing him speak like that was nice, compared to the irritated tone he had used the first time. People in the office were right; he was an easy going guy. Whenever you had company get-togethers he would always crack the lamest jokes and smile and laugh and it had the rest of you laughing as well.

You were excited for today. You and Hoseok were leaving office a couple hours early, to go do some fun stuff together.

“Yah!! Hurry up (Nickname). You take forever!” Hoseok bounded at your cubicle as you shoved your laptop and folders into your bag as quick as you could.

“Okay okay yeesh,”

And once you did, you somehow ended up in front of him, quickly running through the aisles to get out as fast as you could, hearing Hoseok laughing right behind you and you only smiled. Yes, it was childish of the two of you but everyone on your floor knew how you guys were. Hearing his giggling getting further away you rolled your eyes with a playful smile at his slow pace before you turned to grab his wrist.

“(Name)-ah!!” you heard Hoseok’s voice ring out and you laughed before something dawned upon you. His voice sounded much farther away yet you were grasping his hand like he was just a couple inches behind you. You turned quickly and your eyes widened.

Yes, it was the CEO, your boss, Mr. Kim.

“W-What are you doing (Name)-sshi?”

His confusion was evident and you felt so embarrassed and just about ready to go crawl into a hole and bury yourself for a million years.

“S-Sir I am so sorry I-”

Your grip on his wrist immediately loosened as you stuttered out your flustered apologies.

“I-I thought you were…”

And then you realized that something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

You watched as odd spectrums seeped in from the side of your pupils as they began filling in the room with a variety of shades. Purple, yellow, green, red, and though you didn’t know which ones were which, it had to be the most beautiful thing you had ever experienced. But when your eyes landed on the taller male in front of you, you could only suck a breath in at the spectacle, admiring the way the colors filled in the already attractive features he possessed. You didn’t know the colors yet, but you would soon learn how they accentuated him in the most heavenly way. Dark brown hair and chocolate colored orbs that sparkled with life, beautiful light tan skin and plush pink lips, all features that were looking at you in the exact same way.

When Seokjin walked to receive some documents from an employee, he was momentarily surprised to see you running around, but he only chucked knowing that you and Hoseok were probably only fooling around together. He watched as Hoseok stopped to tie his shoe and you continued running, and with him trying to get back to his office, he ended up walking behind you. He was startled when your small hand reached out and clamped around his wrist and his brows immediately raised, hearing Hoseok call out your name in warning.

“W-What are you doing (Name)-sshi?” he had asked, still very confused.

You looked almost ready to die of embarrassment as you turned to face him.

“S-Sir I am so sorry I-”

Seokjin could feel the loosening of your fingers from his hand and he didn’t quite understand why it was a painful feeling.

“I-I thought you were…” you trailed off and Seokjin didn’t understand why you stopped.

That is, until he saw it. Streaks began flying into his field of vision with what he could only assume to be colors. He watched with curiosity as they defined everything in the office, from the glass windows to the wooden doors. And then with utmost amazement, he watched the shades fill in the face in front of him. He always knew you were a pretty girl, but seeing you like this, in your real form, had to be the most amazing sight he had ever seen in his years on this Earth. Once he learned the colors he would be able to say it. (Hair length) (Hair color) hair that framed your face in the most perfect way, large and wide (eye color) eyes that looked so stricken with wonder as you gazed at him. You had the most perfect features, and the unknown shades made you look a million times more ethereal.

Neither of you moved for quite a while. There was a strong urge that was settling deep in your chest, an urge that told you not to go anywhere far from the male in front of you. It drew you to him and kept you there, not that you minded. A strong bond lingered in your mind and it was like you could feel him reading you. A deep stirring feeling in your heart ached as well and you could only smile. So this is what people feel when they meet their soulmate.

Upon seeing your smile, Seokjin reciprocated one as well before he let out a chuckle as a cheeky smile stretched across his handsome face.

“So, Soulmate, how beautiful am I in color?”

You laughed. Despite him being the CEO and the two of you having nothing but formal and polite conversations the past few months, you felt as if all of that had suddenly disappeared. You felt as if you knew this person your whole life, and you had been talking to him forever.

“Colors make you look a hundred times better Mr. K-”

He quickly tutted at you and smiled wider, taking your hands in his. The touch made your heart flutter as the colors seemed to shine brighter.

“Seokjin, just Seokjin or Jin for you,”

You smiled widened and a blush dusted your cheeks. It was then you noticed Hoseok standing there with his jaw slightly gaped. You smiled at him sheepishly, loving the way color looked on him as well, as he started smiling and cheering for you.

“Forget our movie night (Nickname)!! We’ll do it on Sunday!! You just met your soulmate!!” he was cheering like a fangirl whose otp ship had just sailed. Of course, you loved him for it and you smiled as you thanked him.

“Hey,” your soulmate’s voice rung out. You looked up at him. “Let’s go stand outside so that if anyone asks, I’m outstanding,”

You stared at him blankly before you finally understood and laughed.

“Ah is this what I have to deal with for the rest of my life?” you teased.

Seokjin only smiled cheekily at you as he wrapped a strong arm around you and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Yeah you’re stuck with me,”

And of course, you wouldn’t want it any other way.

#bts #bts jin #bts seokjin #bts soulmate au #jin soulmate au #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts fluff #fluff #kpop fluff #kim seokjin #jin #ceo jin #ceo au #btsjin

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haystacked-blog1 · 7 years

Text

Bittersweet Touch

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed Characters: Shay Cormac, Reader Pairing: Shay/Reader Chapter: 2/??? Word Count: 1954 Summary: You met him at the Jackdaw and somehow you keep running into each other. You say it's luck but, he says that he makes his own. You don't know how long you'll keep each other happy but, you're already on the roller coaster so why not enjoy the ride? [Was originally: We'll Always Have Mexico]

[Chapter 1] // [Read on AO3]

Waiting rooms are most likely the worst places ever, especially when you’re waiting for an interview.

Your nerves are already shot, your knee is bouncing up and down and you’re trying your best not to sweat through your shirt. You know that you shouldn’t actually be this nervous, you’ve known the one of the interviewers for years, heck, you’ve been out drinking with her but, then again, so have the other people interviewees. In fact, you could name every person in the waiting room, you may not know them well but, you know enough about them. Possibly the worst part was, however, the fact that everyone was silent; silent whilst waiting and silent once leaving, you couldn’t work up the courage to ask anyone how their interview went.

The company, a small news network of around 100 people called the Bureau, had been brought out a few months ago. You were a lead researcher and analyst but, from the moment your boss had told you all that the Bureau had been sold, you couldn’t shake the dreadful feeling in your stomach; you anticipated the meeting to tell you that you were being let go. However, Sally, your boss and interviewer, had recently told your research team of a possible promotion due to their new budget- it was basically your old job but with a new title, “Head of Research and Analytics”, a bit more money and a few more morning meetings. But, the whole ordeal of being interviewed again made your stomach churn.

However, despite your bouncing knee, the other interviewees looked at you and saw a picture of confidence and calm. They all knew you a bit better than you knew them, you were, after all, lead researcher and analyst and, they were all pencil pushers. They looked up to you and believed that you were the best choice for the job but, to them it’s experience and it shows their new bosses that they are young go-getters. To you, though, they were all competition and, whilst your inner voice was screaming nervous thoughts, you kind of relished the competition, it would make the promotion either so much sweeter or bitter.

Finally your name was called. You stood up, flattened your blazer and shirt and picked up your briefcase, before walking through the doorway into the interview.

You saw Sally first, her usually curly hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and her typical long sleeved t-shirt traded for a cream blouse. The last time she looked this professional, it last September, the Bureau’s 9 year anniversary bash, not that you could remember much of it; you, Sally and many others had gotten very drunk. Then there was the new owner of the Bureau and CEO of his eponymous industry, Haytham Kenway. You’d never met him before, or seen him before, making his presence a shock; it was rare to see a CEO of a highly prestigious company interviewing for a small management position in an branch investment. You internally concluded that he must have a lot of money riding on the Bureau.

Upon walking in, Mr Kenway and Sally stood, both offering a hand for you to shake. As you shook the former's hand, he reaffirmed your name and introduced himself- as if he needed any form of introduction. You shook Sally’s hand and she winked at you, slyly wishing you luck as the three of you sat down.

“So, you’ve worked at the Bureau as the lead Researcher and Analyst for the past three years?” Kenway probed, looking at your file, reading glasses posed on the edge of his nose.

“Yes that’s correct,” you affirm, your hands finding a place in your lap, fingers tightly knitted together to stop yourself from fidgeting.

“But,” the dreaded but , you prepared yourself for some sort of criticism, “you graduated from university with a degree in English Language 5 years ago? What did you do in those two years out?” He asked, looking up from your file to look you directly in the eye, his expression not giving anything away.

“I got a job straight after graduating, working for Macmillan Publishing as a Beta Reader. I did that for the first year and quit at the beginning of the second year; it was a repetitive job and I’d rather read fiction in my own time, not for work.” You explained, switching between Sally and Mr Kenway throughout. Your stomach was churning again, you prayed that it wouldn’t make a sound. “As for the second year, I worked for a newspaper in my hometown, doing something similar to what I do now, before being offered a position here at the Bureau.”

Haytham nodded along with your explanation, before going on to ask more questions.

The rest of the interview went well. Sally seemed to be there mainly for moral support as she never actually asked any questions, allowing her new boss to take the reins. You discussed your aspirations, most of which were made up on the spot, how you would effectively manage and lead the research and analytics department and, of course, where you see yourself in 5 years time. Your answer was tame but, wild enough to show Haytham and Sally (but mainly Haytham) that you had ambition and that you wanted to go somewhere with your career in the future. You were also asked to show examples of your previous work and fortunately, that’s all your briefcase was filled with, research and analysis. They were pieces linked to some of the best writers you have researched, including Sally; You could physically see her chest puff out like a Robin when Haytham flicked through your research and her connecting article.

Overall, you walked out of the interview with your head held high, proud of what you had managed in that interview. You may not get the job but you were happy with how the interview went-- Nope, you couldn’t think like that. After that phenomenal interview, you’d go on the biggest rampage through the Bureau if you didn’t get the job.

The rest of your afternoon went rather quickly as you sat in the work room with the other researchers and analysts, combing through your sources for one of the writers newest exposé. It was at this point that you all discussed how your interviews went and wished each other luck, especially as it turns out that some of your colleagues were going for other promotions.

5pm rolled around quickly as you packed up, your blazer thrown into your briefcase and your hair starting to fall from your bun; it was structurally weak after you jammed a pen in it earlier. Just as you walked through the doors, you saw Haytham Kenway getting into a car, the door being held open by who you assume to be the driver. He happened to notice you walking by and, being a gentleman, he acknowledged you with a small smile, “Have a good evening, Miss [Last Name].”

You smiled back at him, offering a small wave with your free hand, “You too, Mr Kenway, sir.” You caught yourself being over polite but, he didn’t seem to notice or mind.

At that moment, the driver whispered something to Haytham before he shut the door and turned around. At first you thought nothing of it; communication between employee and employer is crucial but when the driver turned around, your thoughts took a more disbelieving turn. It was that guy, Shay, from the Jackdaw. You didn’t recognise him, mostly due to the lack of pirate outfit and the appearance of a suit and tie. Your smile widened at him as he approached you.

“At least one of us doesn’t need to get changed this time,” he teased, his voice full of cheek and teasing. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, you’d regretted not getting his number when you first met him; even if nothing happened between you, you had a feeling he’d make a great drinking buddy.

“Oh I don’t know, I did misplace my tie this morning,” you parried, a jovial tone weaving your words together. His laugh filled your ears and it sounded so much better, especially if you consider the first time you heard it, it was over terribly loud music, (it still sounded good in the Jackdaw).

Unfortunately, it was all over before it began as Haytham rolled down his window and called over, “Shay, whilst I appreciate that you have a life outside of work, may I remind you that you are currently at work.” Your eyes widened as you glanced from Haytham to Shay, somewhat surprised but also, highly amused at this almost stranger being insubordinate just to talk to you.

“Sorry Mr Kenway, this’ll only take a moment,” Shay replied, his face schooled into calm but, you saw the slight twinkle in his eyes; you’d say it was his playful thoughts shining through but, alas you’re not a mind reader.

On the other hand, you were intuitive. Whilst Shay conversed with Haytham, you rooted in your bag for your purse before pulling out a business card. When Shay had finished talking to the boss, you presented your card, explaining, “I probably should’ve given this to you last time but hey, what you gonna do?”

His lips quirked upwards into a smirk that could’ve also passed as a smile before quite happily taking your business card and studying it, “I’m going to call you, that’s what I’m going to do.”

Now it was your turn to smirk as once again, he was very sure of himself, “Right, sure. I’m going to let you go before your boss, who also happens to be my boss, blows a gasket.” You start stepping in the direction of your car, “I look forward to hearing off you.” You offer a small smile and wave.

“Aye, you won’t be waiting too long.”

With that, you both turn around and head off, you to your car and Shay to drive Mr Kenway, who is now painfully aware of your flirtations, to where ever he needs to be.

You heard your phone go off in the car just as you pulled into your driveway. It was an unknown number, meaning it could either be a scam or, Shay keeping his word.

[Unknown number]:

Yo ho mexico, far to the south where the cactus grow, tequila and a donkey show, mexico, MEXICO

Yo ho mexico, far to the south where the cactus grow, take me away from the ice and the snow, let’s go on a date.

You saved the unknown number and almost instantly replied.

[Y/N]:

Free margaritas and a taco? Count me in.

[Shay]:

Just a singular taco? What about tacos? I know a great place.

[Y/N]:

I don’t know plural tacos sound like a lot commitment

[Shay]:

OK, singular taco for first date, two tacos for the second date, three tacos for the third date. We can work up to plural tacos.

[Y/N]:

Wow planning multiple taco dates already are we? That’s a little presumptuous don’t you think?

[Shay]:

Trust me, the taco place is that great.

[Y/N]:

Luckily for you, I really like tacos.

[Shay]:

Just so you know, I make my own luck.

[Y/N]:

Oh my god, does that line usually work?

Not gonna lie though, it totally worked.

[Shay]:

I’m not gonna tell you if it was a lie or not because you just said it worked!

[Y/N]:

So it’s totally a line.

The conversation lasted like this, the two of you poking at each other, until you went to bed. You were looking forward to tacos but first and foremost you were looking forward to getting to know Shay.

#haystacked*#shay cormac #assassins creed fanfiction #fanfiction

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graceivers · 7 years

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Review #26 - Ruthless

Ruthless Author: Lexi Blake Genre: Billionaires & CEOs, Contemporary Romance, Lawyers, Romantic Suspense, Workplace Romance Rating: ★★★★★ Recommendation: worth reading; might read again Summary: Riley Lawless is hellbent on seeking revenge for his family. Ellie Stratton happens to be innocently connected to the Lawless family’s downfall. The plan for Riley to seduce Ellie to get what he wants, however, takes many turns and soon changes both of their perspectives on what they know about each other and their own lives.

Female Lead: Sweet, amazing Ellie Stratton. Blake tirelessly writes Ellie as sweet and innocent and a bit idealistic even when her world turns upside down thanks to the Lawless clan and other people undermining her under her very nose. And still, after all is said and done, those amazing qualities persist. Her compassion is consistent and apparent and wins out in the end. Ellie has a pretty strong moral compass. She chooses to look toward the future instead of wailing about everything unfortunate thing that has happened in her past. She has appropriate and justified reactions to every twist that throws her life in a loop, and yet she rarely wishes ill on those who have wronged her. She has understandable insecurities given the position she is in as a female leader, but in the end, she is still a strong and independent woman who worked hard to get to where she is. Seriously, kudos to Blake for writing a WELL-ROUNDED female protagonist—one that is strong, one that stands up for herself, one that takes her life into her own hands, one that recognizes her insecurities and overcomes them, one that is vulnerable, one that is compassionate and loving and understanding and willing to forgive and all in all, GOOD. Male Lead: Oh, Riley Lawless. My favorite thing about the way Blake wrote this character is the duality between his aggressive and hard personality due to the circumstances and experiences of his life and the outright fear and vulnerability this character exudes when he is honest and comes to terms with the life he’s been forced to live. Riley is hellbent on avenging his parents and has worked basically his entire life since their deaths toward that singular goal. Given his horrible experience in foster care, though, he’s bruised and broken. He admits that he’s not normal. But oh, it was the most heart-wrenching moment when he told Ellie that he just wanted to be normal. That kind of honesty behind the usual hardness we get is exactly what I wanted to see in this character in order for me to really root for him and his relationship with Ellie.

What was even better was his character development, especially in regards to how he was approaching his relationship to Ellie and how his perspective on it continued to morph. Riley views her as a target first and maybe collateral damage, but once he worms his way into her life and they begin an intimate relationship, his perspective changes. He puts Ellie first! For the first time in Ellie’s life, someone has put her first. And even though Riley has so much to make up for given that he lied to and betrayed Ellie, he still puts her first. He does everything in his power to love and protect her. He’s willing to give up what he has left of his family and their crusade to avenge their parents because he loves her more than anything. Take note! Love is far more powerful than hate. That is something to be remembered, and Riley perfectly exemplifies that notion. But oh, it doesn’t stop there. No, when Riley is trying to win back Ellie and it’s not exactly going as planned, he recognizes his faults! He realizes what he’s doing wrong, how he shouldn’t be treating Ellie like some goal he should plan and execute, and he rectifies his behavior! He refuses to give up and decidedly changes his tactics because that’s what Ellie means to him. And because that’s how you treat a woman—not by demanding or giving an ultimatum or forcing her but by chasing while respecting her wishes and boundaries. That was seriously the best, and I commend Blake for infusing that into this book.

One tiny note, Riley’s sleeping issue. I love that that was incorporated into his character, but I think the issue was kind of left hanging when there was a point to its inclusion. I can’t really believe that for a guy who can only sleep in a room by himself with the door locked and a chair underneath the doorknob can suddenly get so much better after literally sleeping with Ellie for a night. Blake does include the revealing nightmare Riley has into that scene, which tells us that he’s not completely over it, but I personally thought the issue was a little glossed over. But… that’s me being a little nit-picky when I can understand that there are a lot of other parts of the story that require attention compared to this sleeping issue Riley has. Plot & Writing: Ruthless is a work of romantic suspense with all the right ingredients that made the book an enjoyable read. The female lead shines; the male lead is a three-dimensional character; the plot is dramatic and juicy and yet emotional all at once. I mean, okay, the definition of internal screaming was me reading the prologue because I had zero idea that the Lawless clan were kids in that moment until it was embarrassingly late, and geez, I basically loved every single Lawless child right there and then and would defend them no matter what they would do and who they would become in the future. Blake really got me invested in these characters from the get-go, and that was crucial.

I must talk about how much female empowerment I felt in this book through Blake’s writing. I mean, maybe it was enhanced because literally the last book I read was that abomination in my previous review, but seriously, Ellie Stratton was sorely what I wanted and needed. First of all, FEMALE CEO. I mean, she kind of has to fight for the title given the book’s plot, but still. She’s top dog at her company and everyone knows it, including the people trying to take her down. Not only is she all but the CEO, but she worked her way up. Yes, the company is her father’s, but she wasn’t just given the position and the company. She had been working there since a teenager and in multiple departments, so much that many employees showed a lot of courage and loyalty to her when others tried to undermine her reputation. But not only that, SHE’S THE ONE TO TAKE DOWN THE BAD GUY. I mean, Castalano, the bad guy, died not at the direct hands and effects of what Ellie or any of the Lawless’ physically did to him, but seriously. Ellie was the one that physically neutralized him as a threat. I love Ellie as a character so much in that moment, and I love Blake for putting that in. So much female empowerment. I love it.

I thought Riley and Ellie’s relationship developed at a pretty good rate. I wasn’t really keeping track of how long they knew each other before they decided they were falling in love with each other. Did I initially think it was too fast? Yeah. Somewhere in there, Blake said it had only been a matter of a weeks or at most like a couple of months or something. I could be wrong. And yet, I didn’t feel bothered by any instalove problems. It was so clear to me that Riley loved Ellie so much, that she changed not only his view on life but his life entirely. I thought the strong emotions and determination behind that feeling was genuine to root for the couple. Of course, Ellie was absolutely entitled to feel hurt and betrayed the way she did given that Riley lied and all but used her, but again, her compassion is what defines her character, and in the end, she can’t help but feel compassion towards Riley and his siblings. She can’t help but be on their side. Hell, she kind of already was when she found out both what her father did to their family and who Riley truly was. And though Ellie has every right to be angry at Riley for the rest of her life and never forgive him, well, life and death situations tend to make people reevaluate and sure enough, she realized that Riley’s relentless ways to win her back were in fact genuine and that their love could not be denied.

And then there was the fact that there was no dilly-dallying on Blake’s part. Blake didn’t keep secrets from the reader, and that was great. I know authors like to drag things out, keep readers in the dark and guessing as to what’s going to happen to create that suspenseful tone; hey, as a writer for fun, I’m probably guilty of it too. But Blake doesn’t go there. She flat out states what she needs to when she needs to. The fact that Ellie knows straight-up her father’s involvement in ruining the Lawless family was honestly refreshing. The fact that Ellie was brought into the Lawless revenge plan once she knew of Riley’s true identity was great. Blake got to the point and moved things along. The plot itself was suspenseful, and Blake honored that plot and relied on her story to set the tone. It worked out well.

Two slight, tiny things. First, there were a couple of typos. That was a little disappointing considering I read this off of Overdrive and it wasn’t self-published or whatever. Very minor in the end, but still, shouldn’t have occurred. And second, the epilogue was a tiny bit disappointing. Yes, I understand that Blake utilized the epilogue as a segue to the next book in the series. Unfortunately, I was kind of hoping for a better wrap-up for Ellie and Riley’s story. Alas, I hope that they’re going to make strong side appearances in the future books of the series. Secondary Characters & Plots: I LOVED THEM ALL. Seriously, all of them. Even the bad guys, I loved for playing their part in being bad. Again, I was absolutely Team Lawless from the beginning. If Riley is hard, Drew, the eldest Lawless, is twice has hard and aggressive. I mean, Blake describes him predatory. Is he a scary man? Probably, yeah. Am I going to read his book and root for him to find love? Absolutely. After finding love with Ellie, Riley is concerned and so wanting his big brother to find some light and warmth and to have love in his life the way he has, but Drew is so closed off and adamant that he won’t find it or get it or have it. It was heartbreaking when Drew kept having moments where he said that he didn’t get it or didn’t understand why Riley so vehemently protected and chose Ellie over avenging their parents’ death. Goodness, Blake really made me feel for Drew then.

And then Bran. Oh, Bran. His childhood was clearly the worst out of all the Lawless siblings having gone from foster home to foster home. It’s evident that something horrendous happened, which is why Bran can be so wildly violent. And yet! There’s the sweetest side of him that protects women. I mean, Blake wrote that Bran worships the housekeeper basically for doing her job! Cute isn’t the right word to describe Bran at all, but seriously, that soft side of him is exactly that. Bran is absolutely the philosophical one, the one with the psychology minor, the one that sees the world in that particular and almost poignant way. I love him as much as I love Riley and Drew and am equally invested and rooting for him.

Mia, the only Lawless girl, was great, though we didn’t get much of her. And again, Blake wrote all the other secondary characters very nicely by giving them defined roles. Even the McKay-Taggart clan/company/whatever! SERIOUSLY. I WILL BE FOREVER DISAPPOINTED THAT BLAKE HAS AN ENTIRE SERIES DEVOTED TO THE MCKAY-TAGGART COMPANY THAT I WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO READ BECAUSE SHE PUT BDSM IN EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THOSE BOOKS. Forever. Disappointed. I wanted read about Case and how he got together with Mia. I wanted to read about Case’s scary older brother. I wanted to read about Adam, the freaking hacker guy that was in Ruthless for like three pages when he was on the phone with Riley! And now it’s never going to happen. Sigh. Favorite Part(s): Every time there was a honest and communicative conversation between two characters. For a book about lies and deceit, manipulation and thievery, Blake incorporated quite a few serious and honest conversations between characters—between Ellie and Riley, Ellie and Bran, Drew and Riley. These conversations were very well done. They moved the plot along; they revealed character and subsequent development; they forced characters to genuinely communicate! For all that was planned to take down Castalano, none of it would’ve occurred had the Lawlesses as well as Ellie communicated with each other.

And of course, I loved the female empowerment I got from Blake’s writing. It deserved another mention. Final Thoughts: Ruthless was a pleasant surprise! Even though I have a massive to-read list, I was just browsing around Overdrive and thought I’d give this a shot. I am super happy that I did. The book had romantic suspense without the hardcore alpha/military stuff, inclusion of a female CEO-type, and still a solid romance overall. I liked Blake as an author; she made all the genres that I categorized this book under work very well together. Everything was seamless and cohesive, and I very much enjoyed it. Definitely worth reading in my opinion.

#book: ruthless #author: lexi blake #genre: billionaires & ceos #genre: contemporary romance #genre: lawyers #genre: romantic suspense #genre: workplace romance #rating: five stars

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