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#the world floods basically
sharks-n-bones · 3 months
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Y'all, I'd like to apologize in advance, this is the longest one yet
Without further adue
BRANCH WON THE POLL SO IT'S BRANCH TIME BABY LET'S GO
When the flood hit, Branch was the most prepared troll in all of Pop Village. He was a survivalist, he built an entire underground Bunker with a functional elevator by himself, of course he'd know what to do
When the rivers started overflowing, Branch was suspicious from the get go. It was late summer, the snow already melted from the mountains and flooded the rivers. There hasn't been any rain recently, so there's no reason the rivers would've flooded
Branch’s hunch was soon proved correct when the river just kept flooding over, the water reaching the village in no time, causing them all to have to relocate. They went for higher ground, and when the storms came they hunkered down where they could until they ended, and they began moving again
Once they were finally somewhere safe for the time being, they began building boats. King Peppy advised that families and friends should stick together and travel together, and Branch had to agree with him. There was safety in numbers, especially in cases such as this
Branch helped Poppy, the king and the snackpack (along with Prince D, who was visiting when the water started rising) to build a boat that would fit them all, with room to spare, of course. Branch was nothing if not prepared. He'd drawn up blueprints in his spare time on the journey to higher ground, and designed the boat big enough for them all to have their own rooms and bathrooms, a kitchen, multiple storage rooms, a common room and other such amenities. And of course, he built an area above the main deck for farming
Since Satin and Chenille were pros on working with fabrics, Branch asked them to make the sails. Smidge helped with the heavy lifting, since she was by far the strongest out of the Snackpack. Cooper, Prince D, DJ Suki and Biggie helped with gathering supplies and resources. Poppy and Guy Diamond helped with decorations, but pretty much everyone helped with the actual building of the ship
In no time, their ship was built and stocked with enough provisions to last a couple weeks at least. Branch was proud of the ship and the hard work everyone put into it. They sang and danced and hugged throughout the process, but it seemed to make the building go along quicker, if anything, and it boosted everyone's moods. Once the water has risen enough to be lapping against the bottom of the boat, they worked together to push it into the sea before hopping on and setting sail
Other than now having to work harder on surviving, things stayed much the same. They spent their days singing, dancing and hugging while they tended to their little farm, fished, and gathered resources and food from any island's they came across. Most of the group also enjoyed swimming when they had the chance, and Branch would even join them sometimes, but he was a bit more.. suspicious of the water that flooded the world
He'd been working on theories and gatherings clues as to what caused this great flood. Surely, it wasn't natural. There was no way! The world wouldn't just flood without something to cause it. But what could've been powerful enough to do such a thing..? When he wasn't busy foraging, tending to the garden and making sure the ship was still in peak condition, he was usually pouring over the clue board he'd made about the flood
He'd added some.. other changes he'd noticed to the clue board as well, such as how everyone on the ship was developing rashes on their necks, and how he noticed that their skin seemed to be drying out faster while their hair was all still picture perfect, if not looking better than ever. He added how the webbing between their fingers seemed to be inching up to their knuckles, ever so slowly. He'd thought he'd be the only one to notice that, but he saw some of the others glancing at their hands with odd expressions once in a while. A lot of other trolls they came across were having the same exact effects, so it couldn't just be a freak disease that had taken over the ship. Besides, if it was, they wouldn't have as much energy as they did. Other things would be noticed
He was pouring over his clue board again when a theory suddenly came to his mind. He laughed at himself at first, because there was no way, it would be impossible-
He started taking samples of the water that now covered most of the planet, trying to see if there was anything in it that could be causing these changes. He checked the rainwater they collected, ocean water, rivers and creeks if any islands still had them, but each and every time he came up empty. There were no weird chemicals or anything of the sort he could find
There was nothing he could physically see, but the water was the only thing he could think of that would cause these changes! He even checked the fish they caught and any food they grew or foraged, but there was nothing unusual. At this point, the only thing that could be causing these changes was magic! He chuckled at the thought, and pushed it aside… not before adding it to the clue board with a bunch of question marks, though
Occasionally, techno trolls would approach their ship and ask if they needed any help. The next time one breached the surface, Branch asked if they'd noticed anything in the water since the flood hit. The techno troll's eyes widened, and he winced before sighing and climbing onto the ship
He explained everything he knew. Told them about the legends of sirens, of their history with them, how they locked them away. How the sirens broke free right around the time the water began rising
Then, he explained how they filled the ocean that covered the planet with and ancient and powerful magic. He explained that it would slowly change their bodies to become more siren-like. As he explained, he pointed out the changes they were already experiencing. Explained the rashes on their necks would develop into gills, the webbing between their fingers would reach the last knuckle for better swimming, their bodies would grow scales and that their skin was drying faster because it was becoming dependant on the sea water
Everyone had gathered to listen, and everyone looked shocked. Poppy examined her hands, Satin and Chenille ran fingers through their hair. Biggie and Smidge brought hands to the rashes on their necks, Guy and Tiny looked at their glitter-coated skin, and Cooper and Prince D glanced at each other, seemingly have an entire conversation without words
The techno troll continued, explaining that they'd be able to change into the same forms as siren's could. The troll forms — how they looked now, the half forms — what they were going to look like once the changes were complete, and the siren forms — where their legs would fuse into a tail and they'd take on more characteristics of whatever sea creature the ocean decided to attach to them
He explained that the more time they spent in the water, the faster the changes would happen, but they wouldn't be able to stop it. He said not to fear it, it would only help them out in the long run
Branch asked why they would cause the flood to begin with only to help them survive in the end. The techno troll said that their war was with the technos, not with anyone else. Dubz didn't know what they had planned for techno’s, but said not to worry about it. It was the techno’s fight, not theirs
Branch felt bad for them, and could see the others felt the same. The techno troll bid them farewell after that and left, leaving the group in silence. He could see that familiar gleam in Poppy's eyes, one that meant she wanted to help them, she just didn't know how yet. Branch couldn't help but smile at that. She always wanted to help people, and he loved that about her
For the rest of the day, things were a bit more quiet than usual. Everyone thinking about what they'd just learned. Branch sighed and went to find Poppy, wanting to make sure she was alright
The next day, they reached an island and they all unanimously decided to take a day to completely relax. They deserved a day off, especially after all they'd learned yesterday. So they tossed the idea of work to the wind and spent the day relaxing at the beach
Everyone was having fun. Building sandcastles, playing in the waves, relaxing on the sand, floating around, just generally having a good time. Branch was even relaxing, just sitting in the sand and reading a book for once. He was so lost in the pages, he almost didn't hear Tiny scream
He looked up just in time to see a fish come out of the water and latch onto Tiny Diamond, dragging him under, and Guy Diamond frantically diving after him. Branch immediately tossed his book aside and ran into the water after them. Guy hadn't come up for air yet so Branch dove after him. Guy dove pretty far down, so he was slowing down and running out of air by the time Branch got to him and began dragging him up through the water
The moment they breached the surface, Guy coughed and gasped, taking in a large breath, before immediately elbowing Branch in the face and fighting against his hold
Branch understood why he was fighting so hard. Tiny was Guy's son, he loved Tiny more than anything in the world. But, as much as it hurt admit, Tiny and that fish were long gone by now. Branch held onto Guy tightly until he eventually stopped fighting and just went limp in his hold
Branch sighed sadly and began hauling him to shore while Cooper, Prince D and Smidge dove into the water to keep looking for Tiny, just in case
Guy wouldn't stop looking at the ocean once Branch brought him to shore. He just stood there, frozen like a statue, before he eventually crumpled to his knees. Then, to Branch’s utter horror, he slowly began turning grey. From the tips of his hair, moving downwards until he was completely dull, the glitter that made up his skin now matte and lifeless
Branch’s heart ached for him. He didn't know what it was like to lose a child, thank the stars above, but he knew what it was like to lose a family member and he knew what it was like to turn grey. He heard the others gasping in shock, but Branch only frowned and wrapped an arm around Guy, giving him all the comfort he could. The others soon joined in, all wrapping Guy in one giant hug. Guy never hugged back
They had stayed at the island for a week longer than they'd planned to, just in case Tiny somehow showed up, and Guy waited on the beach every day. Tiny never showed. Eventually, they brought Guy back to the ship and to his room. The others were all concerned for Guy, but Branch tried to tell them not to go overboard or push the poor guy too much. He remembered how much the toxic positivity bothered him when he went grey, and knew it could be smothering and overwhelming
Once in a while, Branch would check in on Guy and bring him some food if he noticed he hasn't been eating. Aside from occasionally checking up on him, he gave him some space
For the next 2-3 months, a melancholy air hung around the ship. They all would still sing and dance, but it wasn't the same now that two voices were missing. Guy didn't come out of his room that much. He usually would for meals or to sometimes help Branch when he was brainstorming safety precautions (presumably to make sure nothing like what happened to Tiny ever happens again, or at least that was Branch’s theory), but most days he stayed cooped up in his room
Branch felt bad for him. He wished he could do more to help, but he didn't know Guy like the others did. He could only think to do what he wished others would do when he turned grey — show he cared, but give him enough space to breathe
A few months passed uneventfully, just going from island to island, gathering resources and taking some time to try and relax before setting sail again. It was another normal day for them, they had just docked at an island when something different finally happened
A ship came up beside their own and set anchor. A lone figure wearing a pair of reflective goggles aboard the ship used their hair to board their own boat, landing with a loud thud on the deck. They pushed their goggles up to their forehead and Branch gasped
This couldn't be happening. 20 years of absolute silence, complete separation. 20 years since he left him behind, and suddenly he shows up right when a flood takes over the planet? Branch couldn't believe his eyes. The troll then spoke, stating he was searching for someone when they suddenly locked eyes, and the newcomer aboard their ship grinned and called him a name he hadn't heard in decades
“Baby Branch!!”
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evankinard · 1 year
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all I'm saying is that if I was 9-1-1 and if I had just randomly set a scene at a beach for the first time since the tsunami and then had that specific storyline evoked by the guy who was on the outside looking in as his son and his best friend, who he eventually made his son's legal guardian after he witnessed his love for him during the tsunami and everything after it, fought for their lives and each other. If I was 9-1-1 and I had that guy asking what the future holds for him as the camera focuses on his son with an ominous expression. If I had just set up the other guy, the best friend, with an internal conflict surrounding the idea of parenthood. If I had already previously established a parental relationship with the best friend and the first guy's kid that is constantly on the edge of actual parenthood but held back by the fact that he's not the actual dad and he won't be unless the man he loves his best friend dies. If I had started that internal conflict by making the best friend guy desperately search for happiness and then watch as someone who was searching for happiness like him find it on the brink of death after saving a kid's life. If I had a flood disaster coming up. If I was 9-1-1. Well.
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beautiful-detective · 2 years
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I’m gonna be honest, BLEACH is NOT that good for ya to STILL be arguing about ships. Let people ship whomever but at the very least, STOP blatantly misinterpeting scenes. The Lust is not a good example of ichihime, no offense. 
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autistic-shaiapouf · 2 years
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Live hurricane updates got me like
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foxyverserambles · 1 month
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Gods I fuckin g love lost word stories
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saintobio · 1 month
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LONG LIVE THE VILLAINESS !
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amidst the tale of sweetest love and bitterest revenge, the fallen empress is cast back ten years into the past to correct her sins and avoid eternal damnation, even at the price of betraying her once husband, the very cause of her downfall.
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♱ pairings. gojo satoru, fem!reader
♱ genre. enemies-to-lovers, period piece, medieval au
♱ tags. ooc, regression, crown prince!gojo, noble lady!reader, politics, classism, clan wars, religion (catholicism), misogyny, violence, war, rebellion, suggestive, smut, gore, double life, explicit language, more to be added
♱ notes. this fic draws heavy inspirations from the webnovel ‘sister, i am the queen in this life’ and manhwa of the same name. it’s basically a fanfic of that series bc i am obsessed with it :’D
♱ status. on-going (slow updates)
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♱ THIS SERIES WILL SERVE AS THE THE SECOND TIMELINE -> READ HERE FOR THE FIRST TIMELINE (ORIGINAL STORY) ♱
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PROLOGUE.
ACT I. THE LADY
ACT II. THE CROWN PRINCE
ACT III. THE KNIGHT
ACT IV. THE STAR CROSSED LOVERS
ACT V. THE BLESSED
ACT VI. THE SIN
ACT VII. THE REVELATION
ACT VIII. THE ENEMY
ACT IX. THE LOVER
ACT X. THE EMPRESS
EPILOGUE.
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PROLOGUE 
Like plunging beneath the surface of water and then, abruptly, breaking through to the air above—your body jolted as if awakening in a new world altogether. You drew in a long breath, your eyes fluttering open to reveal the ceiling, both familiar yet unfamiliar in its greeting. Swiftly, you surveyed your surroundings, noting with growing recognition the confines of your old room within the De Roma estate. The estate! 
You were not in the palace of Caelum, but in the estate of House De Roma. A surge of realization flooded through you as you dashed towards the nearest mirror, confronting your reflection with wide, startled eyes. 
No... could it be... that you have returned to your body, ten years prior?!
In the mirror, the reflection staring back at you was not that of the notorious wife of the tyrant Emperor Satoru, but of a 20-year-old maiden, the eldest daughter of Duke de Roma, with fuller cheeks and a more youthful appearance. You could not shake the feeling of disbelief, wondering if this was all just a dream, so you reached out to touch your arms and felt the flesh beneath your fingers, trying to convince yourself that this was an unexpected reality.
Oh, you were back. You found yourself returned to your former self, a decade younger, but now armed with the knowledge of your past life's actions and their consequences. Alongside this newfound understanding, the gift of clairvoyance had also been bestowed upon you.
And for what? Why had the heavens above returned you to your body? Was it for revenge, a second chance, or perhaps punishment?
Suddenly, a loud, deafening sound pierced your ears, and a blinding white light enveloped your vision. Your body became as still as a statue, and it felt as though your soul was transported to a fourth dimension where divine intervention seemed a lot more plausible to exist.
As your soul hovered in the liminal space between life and death, you found yourself standing before a figure cloaked in billowing robes, her presence commanding and her gaze piercing. This figure was Fortuna, the ancient Caelan goddess of fortune and fate, her visage austere and unforgiving.
“Are you aware of the sins that stain your soul?” 
“Have you felt the weight of your transgressions, the consequences of your actions that have wrought suffering upon your people and brought ruin to your empire?”
Her voice echoed through the realm with the divine judgment that weighed upon your conscience, while her gaze penetrated to the core of your being and demanded honesty and accountability in the face of your past misdeeds.
“Will you atone for your sins?” 
“Will you seize this opportunity for redemption, or will you squander it in self-pity and remorse?”
As you stood in the presence of the ancient goddess, grappling with the heaviness of your sins and the daunting task ahead, a brilliant light had all of a sudden illuminated the space around you. From the heart of this radiant glow emerged the figure of Archangel Raphael, his presence heralded by a chorus of angelical voices and the stirring of celestial winds.
Clad in robes that seemed to shimmer with the intensity of celestial light, Archangel Raphael's presence commanded attention, his wings unfurled behind him in a display of resolute authority. If Goddess Fortuna was intimidating, the archangel was fearsome all the more. His gaze, intense and penetrating, swept over you with a gravity that left no room for evasion or deceit.
“Empress of Caelum,” he spoke, his tone firm and unyielding, and his voice carrying a billion years of heavenly existence, “You stand accused of grievous sins, crimes that have shaken the very foundations of your empire and brought suffering upon your people.”
There was no trace of softness in Archangel Raphael's demeanor, no room for mercy in the face of wrongdoing. His presence was a testament to the uncompromising nature of divine justice, his strictness a reflection of the solemn duty entrusted to him as an Archangel of the Almighty. This, no doubt, was the face of a true and formidable executor of justice.
And you, the subject, had angered the divine beings that guarded the Caelan Empire, so much so that God himself sent the goddess of the land and one of his archangels to mitigate your rightful punishment.
“By the decree of the Almighty, you are granted a second chance to amend your sins and redeem your soul. You shall return to the mortal realm, to live your life anew and correct the sins that have stained your soul.”
“Should you fail to rectify your past transgressions, should you stray from the path of righteousness and succumb once more to the temptations of darkness, know that the consequences shall be severe and eternal.”
“For those who squander the gift of divine mercy shall be cast into the deepest depths of hell, where they shall endure a punishment of unending torment and suffering.”
In the presence of Archangel Raphael and Goddess Fortuna’s equally stern gazes, you were keenly aware of the magnitude of your transgressions and the severity of the judgment that awaited you. But even as you trembled beneath the weight of their scrutiny, you knew that their presence also offered you the opportunity for redemption, with your only task to prove yourself worthy of divine mercy.
Indeed, it was by your very hands that hundreds and thousands of Christian souls shed their blood. Innocent lives, both young and old, were cruelly taken at your command. The citizens of Caelum who fell sick from the spread of the plague. The esteemed Caelan advisors of your husband’s primogenitors, skinned alive and speared in pikes by the Tiber River. The wrongly accused maid who suffered the indignity of serving your husband, paraded unclothed through the streets and subjected to the brutality of the pear of anguish. The gallant and dignified knight, tortured mentally and physically in the atrocious dungeon. Now, you find yourself thrust back into the horrors of your former life ten years hence. A life of a noble lady who ought not to be blinded by her destructive love for the empire’s crown prince. 
Yet, could you truly navigate this life without ascending to the position as his empress?
As you tried to commune with the divine beings afore you, a haze in your vision transported you away from the heavenly space, realizing that you were already drawn back into the reality of your chamber, inhabiting the youthful frame of a twenty-year-old daughter of a duke. You found yourself too astonished to move, too shaken to speak, and too afraid to take any action in this new lease of life blessed upon you. At that very moment, your state of reverie was disrupted at the arrival of your maid, who entered your chamber in a humble servant garb.
Milena. The maid whose life was cut short by your hand in your past existence due to petty thievery. “My lady,” she spoke with a hint of respect and urgency, unaware of the ill-fate you had given her in your past life, “A visitor has arrived at the gates and requests an audience with you. Shall I show them in?” 
Too soon? Need it truly be so soon to engage with the people from your past life immediately after awakening to your old, yet younger body? Gazing upon your maid through the mirror, you asked, “Who is that intruder you speak of?” 
She bowed her head, her stance shifting into one of apologetic deference. The way she firmly stood by your door was a message to you that the intruder was not someone you could easily reject the presence of.
“The visitor is His Highness, Crown Prince Satoru.” 
⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶♱⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷
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The Widow's Shadow
Natasha Romanoff x Enhanced! Stark!Fem!Reader
Summary: Tony and Pepper adopted you at 13 and now at the age of 18 a beautiful woman named Natalie Rushman walks into your life just as things start to heat up as your powers get displayed for the world to see.
Word Count: 10.5K
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, just basic smut nothing crazy. R is innocent and it's her first time, Natasha at times refers to herself as Daddy, mentions of death (a car accident), R is orphaned,
A/N: I spent so long on this. It takes place during Iron Man 2 when Natasha is undercover as Natalie Rushman.
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The lights in the room were dim, with only the boxing ring illuminated in the center. The rhythmic thud of gloves against pads filled the air, accompanied by the grunts and shouts of those sparring. Your heart raced as you adjusted the grip on your boxing gloves, the anticipation building up inside you.
Then she walked in.
Natalie Rushman. Or at least, that's the name she gave. With her fiery red hair, confident stride, and those piercing eyes that seemed to look right through you, she was a force to be reckoned with. She exuded an aura of mystery, and you were instantly captivated.
Your attention wavered, and in that split second of distraction, you stumbled. Your fist, meant for Happy, met nothing but air as you lost your balance. The next thing you knew, you were on the ground, your chin throbbing, and the metallic taste of blood in your mouth.
"Damn it," you muttered, spitting out the blood, embarrassment flooding over you.
Before you could gather yourself, Natalie was by your side, a small cloth in hand. The gentle touch of her fingers as she dabbed away the blood sent shivers down your spine. "You should be more careful, cupcake," she said, her voice dripping with concern and a hint of playfulness.
“Cupcake?” your heart fluttered.
"Yes, I'm just clumsy sometimes. Don't worry about me, uh..."
"Natalie. Natalie Rushman," she introduced herself, her lips curling into a warm smile that made your heart skip a beat.
"Thank you, Ms. Rushman," You managed to say, your cheeks burning.
As she was called into the ring by Tony, you made your way over to Pepper, your adoptive mother. Sitting down in front of her, you tried to regain your composure, your mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions.
"What is he doing?" You asked, trying to divert your attention from Natalie's impending spar with Tony.
Pepper sighed, shaking her head. "About to cause us a lawsuit more than likely."
You chuckled, the tension in your chest easing slightly. But as you watched Natalie effortlessly dodge Tony's advances in the ring, a newfound determination took root within you. You needed to know more about her, to unravel the enigma that was Natalie Rushman.
The tension in the room shifted as Tony and Natalie engaged in their intense staring contest. You couldn't help but watch, the air thick with anticipation. After what felt like an eternity, Tony finally broke the silence, stepping out of the ring with a smirk.
"Happy, spar with her," he commanded, leaving Natalie and Happy to face off. You couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and curiosity about this mysterious woman.
As Happy began to give instructions, Natalie's attention turned toward us. "Rule number one, never take your eyes off your oppon—"
Before Happy could finish his sentence, Natalie moved with lightning speed, effortlessly taking him down. It was a display of skill and strength that left you in awe. The intensity of the moment had a certain allure, and you couldn't deny the fascination that welled up inside of you.
However, your admiration was cut short as Pepper freaked out. You could see the concern in her eyes, contrasting sharply with Tony's impressed expression. It was clear that Natalie possessed a level of expertise that few could match.
As Natalie left the training area, Tony, sitting next to Pepper, turned to her with a grin. "I want one," he remarked, referring to Natalie.
Without thinking, you blurted out, "Me too." The room fell silent for a moment, and you became acutely aware of the disapproving glances from your parents—not because Natalie was a woman, but because she was about eight years older than you.
You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. "I mean, I want a trainer like her. Someone who can handle themselves like that." You tried to backpedal, but the amusement in Tony's eyes and the stern look from your mother told you that your slip hadn't gone unnoticed.
Little did they know, Natalie Rushman had already left an indelible mark on you, and the journey into the world of the extraordinary was just beginning.
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The sun bathed the Italian Grand Prix track in warm hues as the three of you strolled into the restaurant for lunch. The aroma of rich Italian cuisine filled the air, creating a backdrop to the high-energy atmosphere of the race.
"Mr. Stark," her voice called out, and your heart skipped a beat. There she was, Natalie Rushman, in a dress that accentuated every curve, giving you a smirk that sent a wave of excitement through you.
"Ms. Stark. Hello, how was your flight?" she greeted, her eyes locked onto you.
"Good, it was excellent," Tony replied before you could get a word in. You fought to conceal the disappointment and joined your parents as they went to grab drinks offered to them.
Natalie took the opportunity to brief Tony about someone wanting photos of you three. You found yourself pulled between your parents for the impromptu photo session, the camera flashes blinding you momentarily. As the bickering unfolded behind you, you tried to maintain a composed façade.
"Stark, you're a magnet for trouble," Natalie quipped, her gaze never leaving Tony.
"Yeah, but I love it," Tony retorted with his signature smirk.
While your adoptive parents argued about the unexpected presence of Natalie, it became apparent that Pepper was just as surprised as you were to see her here. The tension in the air was palpable, and you couldn't shake the feeling that Natalie Rushman was intricately woven into the fabric of your lives, bringing a mix of excitement and unpredictability. Little did you know, this encounter in Italy was just the beginning of a series of events.
The atmosphere in the restaurant was electric, filled with the buzz of conversation and the clinking of glasses. As you settled into the corner table, Tony's casual request for the specific seating sent Natalie off to make the arrangements. You couldn't help but watch her go, your eyes tracing the graceful sway of her hips with a sense of admiration.
'Damn, she's beautiful,' You thought, feeling a warmth spread through you. The age gap that had seemed so significant earlier now felt inconsequential.
You were lost in your thoughts when you felt Pepper's gaze on you. "Did you know about this?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.
"No ma'am, Dad didn't tell me anything about this," You replied honestly, your eyes still lingering on Natalie.
Caught up in the moment, you decided to shed your jacket, feeling the confines of the suit weigh heavily on you. Beneath it, your black vest and light blue button-up felt more comfortable, hugging your frame just right. You rolled up your sleeves to your elbows, revealing the tattoos that adorned your arms.
You couldn't help but notice Natalie's subtle glances in your direction as you settled back into your chair, your posture relaxed yet confident. Resting your elbows on the table, you clasped your hands together, the pose unintentionally showcasing your tattoos and muscles.
You glanced over your shoulder, catching Natalie's eye. This time, it was her turn to look away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. The playful exchange sent a thrill through you, and you couldn't help but smile.
The restaurant's ambiance was suddenly punctuated by a sense of urgency as Pepper scanned the room, her eyes widening in disbelief as she spotted the TV screen. Following her gaze, you saw what had caught her attention—a news report showing Tony getting into some sort of altercation.
"Uhhh, Mom..." You hesitated, pointing to the screen, your voice tinged with concern.
"Oh, you've gotta be..." Pepper's voice trailed off, her worry evident. "Where is Happy? Natalie?" she muttered, scanning the room once more.
You shrugged, feeling a sense of unease settle over you. "I'll go check, see if I can find them. If not, I'll go stop him myself," You offered, determined to help.
Pepper's warning glare stopped you in your tracks. "No use of your powers in public," she whispered through clenched teeth, her concern for your secret identity overriding any immediate action. “I have enough going on with your father right now Y/N/N.”
You rolled your eyes, frustration bubbling up inside you. Shoving your hands into your pockets, you sighed, "Yeah, yeah... I know, Mom." The weight of your powers felt like a burden in that moment, the desire to help conflicting with the need for secrecy.
Walking away, you couldn't help but dwell on the constraints that held you back. You had this incredible power at your fingertips, yet you were forbidden from using it when it mattered most. The internal struggle was real, and you grappled with the complexities of your identity, torn between the desire to do good and the necessity of maintaining your carefully guarded secret.
The urgency of the situation propelled you to take action. Without wasting any words, you found Natalie just around the corner and swiftly grabbed her wrist. She reacted defensively, ready to strike, but you caught her fist with your own, feeling the subtle itch of your tattoos, a primal instinct to protect yourself kicking in.
"Just me. We have a situation," you stated firmly, guiding her back toward Pepper.
As we approached Pepper, Natalie's attention shifted to the TV screens displaying Tony's predicament. Pepper wasted no time in questioning Natalie's knowledge of the situation. "Did you know about this?" she asked, her tone demanding answers.
Natalie looked up at one of the TVs, a nervous energy radiating from her as she wiped her hands on her dress. "No, this is the first I'm hearing of this," she assured Pepper.
Concern etched on her face, Pepper inquired about Happy's whereabouts. "Where's Happy?" she pressed.
"He's waiting just outside," Natalie responded promptly. "Go get him. I need him."
Natalie rushed off to retrieve Happy, leaving you standing there, eyes fixed on the screens. "What are you doing, Dad?" You muttered, your left arm itching, a physical manifestation of the unease and frustration building within you. The unpredictability of your lives was becoming increasingly apparent, and you couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of the challenges that lay ahead.
"Y/N. Go, now. We'll meet you there." The urgency in Pepper's voice snapped you into action. Without hesitation, you sprinted toward the race track, your focus razor-sharp as you navigated through the crowd. As you passed Happy and Natalie, you shouted over the noise, "I'll meet you down there! Get to the car with Mom!"
Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you approached the unfolding situation. Every second counted, and you couldn't afford to waste any time. The man on the track posed a potential threat, and you needed to intervene before things escalated further.
As you reached the edge of the track, you assessed the situation, formulating a plan of action. The safety of the racers and spectators was paramount, and you braced yourself for whatever challenges lay ahead.
The air crackled with electricity as the man on the track wielded his arch reactor-powered tendrils with lethal precision, slicing through the race cars as if they were mere toys. Your heart pounded in your chest as Tony's car took the hit, flipping over in a terrifying display of destruction.
"DAD!" Your scream echoed across the track, the fear and urgency evident in your voice. Without a second thought, you vaulted over the fence, your tattoos coming to life, swirling patterns of black smoke enveloping the two of you as you helped Tony out of the wreckage.
"Dad, are you okay?" You asked, your voice trembling with concern.
Tony's resolve hardened as he steadied himself, his gaze locked on the mysterious man. "Yes, Y/N/N, I'm fine. We need to stop him. This isn't how I wanted your debut to be, but it looks like it's time. I'm going to get behind him and try to knock him out," he declared, determination burning in his eyes.
You nodded, the gravity of the situation sinking in. As the smoke began to dissipate, you positioned yourself as the distraction, ready to confront the man and protect your family. The tendrils lashed out at you, crackling with energy, but your tattoos responded instinctively, deflecting each strike with calculated precision.
The standoff intensified, the track becoming a battleground as we clashed with an unknown adversary. But amidst the chaos, a newfound sense of purpose surged within you. You were ready to embrace your powers, to stand alongside your father and defend your legacy against those who sought to harm you.
The screeching of tires and the roar of the engine filled the air as the car skidded to a halt, Happy and Pepper finally arriving on the scene. The sight of the man slamming into the fence was a welcome relief, albeit a brief one.
"Get in the car, now!" Pepper's voice cut through the chaos, her urgency driving you into action. You didn't hesitate, quickly climbing into the car as Tony and the man continued their struggle.
The tension inside the car was palpable, Tony's stubbornness clashing with the immediate need for safety. The man's relentless pursuit of the Ironman suitcase added another layer of danger, and you knew you had to intervene.
Seizing the moment, you grabbed the suitcase and hurled it out of the car, clearing the way for Tony to finally subdue the man in a climactic showdown. The sense of relief was overwhelming as the police arrived, taking the man into custody and securing the arch reactor.
As the adrenaline wore off, Pepper's concern shifted to you, her hands checking for any sign of injury. "Are you hurt, Y/N/N? Does it hurt anywhere? Are you okay?" she asked repeatedly, her voice filled with worry.
You tried to reassure her, but the repetitive questions only intensified the throbbing in your head. "Mom, I'm fine, really," you said, doing your best to quell her concerns.
The atmosphere in the penthouse suite was thick with tension and emotion as Pepper and you returned from the chaotic events at the race track. The concern in Natalie's eyes was evident as she greeted you, her hands gently resting on your arms as she assessed your well-being.
"You aren't hurt, right?" Her voice was filled with genuine concern, sending a wave of warmth through you. She cared, and that realization was both comforting and exhilarating.
"I'm fine, but thank you. I just need some Tylenol and a hot shower," you replied, trying to mask the lingering adrenaline and fatigue.
"I'll get both ready for you, Ms. Stark," Natalie offered, her voice soft yet reassuring.
Retreating to your room, you collapsed onto the bed, the events of the day weighing heavily on your mind. Your tattoos continued to shift across your skin, a visual reminder of the power and responsibility that came with your abilities.
Lost in thought, you were caught off guard when Natalie suddenly appeared beside you, her proximity sending your heart racing. Your eyes locked, and you found yourself mesmerized by the intensity of her gaze.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Her whisper was barely audible, the concern evident in her eyes.
Caught up in the moment, you found yourself flirting with the boundaries of your relationship. "I mean...my lips kind of hurt...maybe you could kiss them better," You teased, throwing caution to the wind.
For a moment, Natalie looked taken aback, the implications of kissing Tony Stark's daughter weighing heavily on her mind. But the pull between you two was undeniable, and she leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a soft, electrifying kiss.
The world seemed to fade away as the two of you lost yourselves in the moment, the electricity between you igniting a spark that neither of you could deny. In that instant, you realized that your feelings for Natalie ran deeper than you had ever imagined, and you couldn't help but wonder what the future held for the two of you.
But for now, in this fleeting moment, you were content to savor the warmth of her embrace, the promise of what lay ahead lingering in the air as your lips met once again in a passionate kiss.
"My parents will kill both of us if they find out about that." You say sitting up. The post-adrenaline haze hung in the air as you sat up, the realization of the impulsive kiss sinking in. As you took the pills and downed the glass of water Natalie brought you, she playfully remarked, "Good girl." A shiver ran down your spine at her words, a mixture of surprise and amusement at the unexpected response to a simple act.
"I'll keep that reaction in mind for later, but for now, your shower is waiting for you. I'd join you, Ms. Stark, but I think they'd realize I was gone," Natalie whispered with a mischievous smile.
"Y/N. You can just call me Y/N or Y/N/N," you corrected, scratching your arm as a small smile played on your lips.
"Okay, Y/N/N, well, enjoy your shower and try not to think about me too much," Natalie teased, purposefully bending forward as she got up. The suggestive move caught you off guard, and you felt a sudden wetness between your thighs, a heat rising within you.
You stormed off toward the shower, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The day had taken unexpected turns, and Natalie's playful banter only added to the complexity of the situation. As you stepped into the shower, the warm water enveloping you, you couldn't shake the lingering sensations from your encounter.
The atmosphere inside the plane was heavy with tension, the hum of the engines providing a constant backdrop to the somber mood. The news reports filled the cabin, discussing the events at the race track and speculating about Tony's actions and the existence of your powers.
"Child with toys," you grumbled, rolling your eyes at the dismissive tone of the reporters. The urge to defend your father and your family's legacy was strong, but you bit your tongue, choosing to retreat into your music instead.
Inserting your earbuds and selecting a playlist on your iPod, you closed your eyes and let the music wash over you. The familiar melodies provided a welcome escape, transporting you back to the intimate moment you shared with Natalie, the soft touch of her lips still lingering on yours.
Lost in thought, you found yourself yearning for the comfort and excitement of that stolen moment, a brief respite from the chaos and scrutiny that surrounded your lives. The complexity of your feelings for Natalie weighed on your mind, the unexpected connection leaving you yearning for more.
As the plane soared through the night sky, you allowed yourself to drift, the memories of your kiss and the promise of what lay ahead providing a glimmer of hope and excitement amidst the uncertainty of your lives.
The tension in the living room was palpable as Pepper and Natalie juggled their respective phone calls, their voices filled with a sense of urgency and concern. The events of the past few days had taken a toll on all of you, and the need for damage control was evident.
Rhodey's unexpected arrival added another layer of complexity to the situation, his stern demeanor contrasting with the chaos unfolding around you. Natalie's attempt to keep him away was met with a united front from Pepper and you, your synchronized response catching her off guard.
As Natalie's eyes narrowed and she mouthed a warning, you couldn't help but smirk, a chuckle escaping your lips as you shook your head in amusement. The playful exchange only heightened the tension between you, the unspoken connection growing stronger with each passing moment.
Walking on thin ice had never been so exhilarating, and you found yourself eagerly anticipating the moment when it would finally break, allowing you two to explore the depth of your feelings and the possibilities that lay ahead.
The anticipation for Tony's birthday party filled the air as you got ready in your room. Opting for an edgy yet stylish look, you adorned yourself in an asymmetrical black techwear skirt, a matching crop top, and thigh-high stockings with garter belts. Chunky Doc Martens completed the ensemble, and you threw up your Y/H/C up into a slightly messy bun. Dark makeup accentuated the tattoos that adorned your legs and covered your body.
Lost in your reflection, you didn't hear the door open and close. Only when Natalie appeared behind you, her arm snaking around your waist, did you realize you weren't alone. Her proximity sent a shiver down your spine as she whispered in your ear, "Who knew you could pull off suits and pretty skirts, cupcake."
A playful comment lingered in the air as you met her gaze through the mirror. Your breath caught when she continued, "I could just eat you out...I mean up." A suggestive bite of her lip followed, and your cheeks flushed with heat.
Her promise for later hung in the air, leaving you at a loss for words. "Once I get your dad all ready for his party, I'll come find you so we can have some fun of our own, okay, cupcake?" You could only nod, words escaping you in the face of the unexpected intensity of your exchange.
"Words, cupcake," she purred, her hand grazing your ass and squeezing slightly as she kissed your cheek. A shaky breath left you as you managed to stammer, "Y-yes, Natalie."
She smirked, letting her presence linger before sauntering off. You watched her leave in yet another alluring dress, feeling a magnetic pull as desire surged through you.
The pulsating beat from the party below seemed distant as you found myself alone with Natalie in your room. The bottle of vodka in your hand was both a comfort and a reminder of the chaos surrounding you. The weight of the world's scrutiny, the questions about your abilities, and the expectations tied to your identity as Tony Stark's daughter pressed down on you.
Natalie's sudden presence broke through your thoughts, her voice drawing you back to the present. "Hmmm last I checked you aren't 21, Ms. Stark," she remarked, her eyes locked onto yours. You took notice that she had changed since earlier now wearing a cheetah print slip dress.
Caught off guard, you tried to justify your actions. "Look, it's been a week, you know this. I just need to not think about everything for a bit, okay?" Your voice was tinged with frustration and vulnerability, the raw emotions bubbling to the surface.
Natalie's raised eyebrow and confident stride toward you sent a jolt of electricity through the air. Placing the bottle down, she closed the distance between you, her hands resting on your hips as she leaned in, her voice husky and seductive. "Well, if you don't want to not think for a bit...I could certainly help you with that. I am your assistant, after all."
The subtle shift in her voice, the hint of an accent, and the intoxicating proximity sent your heart racing. The line between assistant and lovers blurred, leaving you breathless and longing for more.
"No, you're my parents' assistant," you countered, trying to maintain some semblance of control. But Natalie's words and actions had already ignited a fire within you, the tension between you was palpable.
Her response, dripping with desire and intensity, pulled you in further, your resolve crumbling with each passing second. "You're their precious daughter, how could I not take care of you?" The closeness of your bodies, the warmth radiating between the two of you, elicited a soft moan from your lips, your voice betraying the desire coursing through me.
"Natalie..." you whispered, your voice filled with longing and anticipation, the promise of what lay ahead leaving you eager and breathless as your worlds collided, opening the door to a connection neither of you could deny.
The world seemed to fade away as your lips met, the intensity of your connection deepening with each passing second. Natalie's hand found its way to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the kiss grew more passionate. Your hands instinctively cupped her cheeks, your bodies moving in perfect harmony as desire took hold.
The sensation was electrifying, every touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. Before you knew it, the two of you were tumbling onto the bed, your bodies entwined as the passion between you intensified. The softness of the sheets beneath you, the warmth of her body pressed against yours, all added to the overwhelming sensation of being lost in the moment.
When your lips finally parted, the look of surprise in Natalie's eyes mirrored your own feelings. But before you could react, she flipped you, her strength and confidence evident as she pinned you against the bed. The feeling of her thigh pressing between your legs sent a shiver down your spine, a gasp escaping your lips as pleasure surged through you.
Your eyes locked, the intensity of the moment leaving you both breathless and eager for more. Her husky voice and commanding words spurred you on, igniting a fire within you that you never knew existed.
"Move your hips, cupcake. Ride my thigh," she whispered, her lips finding yours once again in a passionate kiss.
The encouragement and guidance from Natalie gave you the confidence to explore new sensations, your body instinctively responding to her touch. As you began to move your hips, the pleasure intensified, a soft moan escaping your lips as the rhythm between you grew more intense.
The experience was exhilarating, the connection between you deepening as the two of you explored new levels of intimacy. Despite your lack of experience, Natalie's guidance and the undeniable chemistry between you allowed you to lose yourself in the moment, embracing the pleasure and excitement of the unknown.
Every touch, every kiss was a testament to the passion and desire that had been simmering beneath the surface, now fully unleashed as the two of you surrendered to the intensity of your connection. Lost in a world of pleasure and longing, you allowed yourself to be guided by Natalie, trusting her to lead you on a journey of discovery and fulfillment.
The intensity of the moment reached its peak as Natalie's words and actions drove you closer to the edge. The sensation of her hands on your hips, guiding and encouraging you, sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, each touch amplifying the ecstasy that was building within you.
"I'm so glad you wore this skirt; it's so much easier to play with you," she murmured, her voice filled with desire and anticipation.
Her words, combined with the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving together, pushed you closer to the brink. The feeling of being on the edge, teetering between pleasure and release, was exhilarating, and you found yourself whining in desperation, craving the release that was within reach.
"N-Nat..." you moaned, your voice filled with longing and need.
"Go on, cupcake, cum for me," she whispered seductively, her eyes locked onto yours as she urged you to let go.
The intensity of her gaze, the warmth of her touch, and the intoxicating rhythm drove you over the edge, your body trembling with pleasure as waves of ecstasy washed over you. Your tattoos seemed to come alive, moving across your body in sync with the waves of pleasure, a visual testament to the intensity of the experience.
"That's my good girl. Just like that...ride it out, baby girl," Natalie whispered, her voice filled with pride and satisfaction.
You opened your eyes, the world coming back into focus as you met Natalie's gaze. Her pupils were blown, the green barely visible as desire and satisfaction radiated from her. You could only imagine that your own eyes mirrored hers, the connection between you deepening as you shared a moment of pure ecstasy and intimacy, lost in the intensity of your connection.
The sudden interruption jolted you back to reality, the remnants of your intimate moment with Natalie quickly fading as the house shook with the force of the impact. Instinctively, you both ran towards the main floor, your concern growing as you heard Pepper's voice.
"Natalie!" Pepper's voice echoed through the chaos, her tone filled with urgency and concern.
"Mrs. Potts," Natalie responded promptly, her professional demeanor coming to the forefront.
The tension in the room was palpable, Pepper's eyes narrowing as she looked from Natalie to you, her concern evident. Before she could say more, the floor erupted beneath us, Tony and Rhodey crashing through in a display of raw power and conflict.
"Go!" you urged Natalie and Pepper, your tattoos coming to life as you stepped forward, ready to intervene.
The look of concern in Natalie's eyes tugged at your heart, but you reassured her, "Go...I'll be fine." With that, they retreated, Happy guiding Pepper away while Natalie disappeared in another direction.
"Stop fighting, you two! I will separate you!" You called out, your shadowy tendrils extending from your body, ready to intervene.
"Don't get involved, Y/N/N. This is between your father and me," Rhodey warned, his voice filled with determination and resolve. As he was don in the War Machine suit.
Despite his words, you couldn't stand by and watch as the two men you cared about most clashed in a battle that threatened to tear them apart. The power surging through you, the determination to protect and intervene, drove you forward as you stepped between them, ready to do whatever it took to stop the fighting and restore peace.
The adrenaline coursing through your veins began to wane as the immediate threat subsided. Exhausted, you released your grip on Tony, your muscles aching from the effort it took to restrain him. His intoxicated state only added to my frustration and concern, the gravity of his actions weighing heavily on you.
"What the hell was that, Dad!?" You shouted, your voice filled with anger and disbelief.
But Tony was lost in a drunken haze, his words slurred and unintelligible as he mumbled to himself. The reality of the situation hit you hard, the realization that his actions had not only put himself at risk but also jeopardized the safety and well-being of everyone around him.
"You ruined my night..." you muttered, the disappointment and frustration evident in your voice.
Thoughts of Natalie filled your mind, the connection you had shared was overshadowed by the chaos and conflict that had erupted. The uncertainty of whether you would see her again weighed heavily on you, the hope of exploring your newfound connection clouded by the events that had transpired.
The morning brought a new day, but the lingering tension from the events of the previous night weighed heavily on you. Tony, still in his suit, took you to a breakfast spot for some donuts, attempting to break the silence and ease the tension that hung between you.
"You really messed up last night," you stated bluntly, taking a bite of your bear claw.
"Yeah, yeah, shut up and eat your breakfast," he retorted, a hint of regret in his tone.
As the two of you enjoyed your breakfast on the rooftop, Nick Fury approached, interrupting your moment of relative peace. You used your smoky tendrils to descend slowly, greeting Fury with a smile.
"Fury," you acknowledged, the familiarity in your interactions a contrast to the strain in your relationship with your father.
"Little Stark," Fury replied, a smile crossing his face as he hugged you. Tony eventually joined you, and the three of you headed inside to continue your conversation.
Sitting in a booth with your father and Fury on the opposite side, you were taken aback when Natalie appeared, clad in a skin-tight black bodysuit. Your mouth fell open as she smiled at you. The unexpected presence of someone you thought you might not see again left you momentarily speechless.
"We've secured the perimeter, but I don't think we can handle it much longer," she reported to Fury.
"Huh...you're fired," Tony declared, a hurt expression crossing your face.
"Oh, that's not up to you," Natalie retorted, her words cutting through the tension.
"Tony, little Stark, I'd like you to meet Agent Romanoff," Fury introduced.
"I'm a S.H.I.E.L.D shadow. Once we knew you were ill, I was tasked to you by Director Fury. Finding out you had powers was just icing on the cake," Natalie explained, her gaze lingering on you.
The revelation about Natalie's true role left you unsettled. As you looked away, a sense of dissociation washed over you—a defense mechanism you hadn't employed in a long time. The complexities of your newfound powers and the tangled web of relationships and secrets threatened to pull you further into the abyss, leaving you grappling with the uncertain path that lay ahead.
The weight of the recent events and the complexities of your relationships left you feeling isolated and overwhelmed. Holed up in your room, a wave of depression washed over you, casting a shadow over everything. A knock at the door interrupted your solitude, but you didn't feel like engaging with anyone. Despite your lack of response, the door opened.
"Go away, Dad. I don't want to talk," you called out, assuming it was Tony attempting to breach the walls of your solitude.
"Oh, I'm not your dad, unless that's something you're into," Natalie's voice cut through the air. The unexpectedness of her presence caused you to shoot up, facing her as she stood just past your door.
"What do you want?" you asked coldly, your guard up as you braced for whatever conversation or confrontation might follow. The uncertainty of where you stood and the weight of your emotions made it difficult to predict the nature of your interaction.
"I want to talk if you'll let me," Natalie's voice was soft, but the weight of her words hung heavily in the air.
"Why should I? Everything I know about you is a lie, Natalie! Oh wait, that isn't even your name!" Your voice trembled with anger and hurt, the betrayal you felt evident in every word. "I gave myself to you. You were my first, and it was all a lie!" Tears welled in your eyes, the pain of the deception cutting deep.
As Natalie stepped closer, you felt a surge of emotions, your tattoos reacting to your heightened state. "Don't," you warned, the tendrils of smoke-like energy emanating from your skin, ready to defend and protect.
"You wouldn't," she challenged, closing the distance between us despite your warning.
"I said don't." Your voice was firm, the energy around you intensifying as you braced for a confrontation.
But instead of a clash, Natalie's arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a hug as you broke down. Your knees buckled beneath you, and you clung to her tightly, the weight of your emotions overwhelming. Smoke from your tattoos clouded around the two of you, a physical manifestation to how clouded your mind felt.
"You lied...you lied to me..." you sobbed, your fists weakly pounding against her as the tears flowed freely.
She held you close, waiting patiently for the storm of emotions to pass, her presence a source of comfort amidst the chaos of your feelings. The pain of the betrayal lingered, but in that moment, the connection between you offered a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty and pain.
"I had to, and I know you have no reason to trust me, but I'm going to tell you something, something no one else knows about me. Can you look at me, Y/N/N?" Natasha urged, her voice filled with a vulnerability you had never heard from her before. Gently, she tilted your chin upwards, her eyes searching yours as she saw the hurt reflected in them.
"You're right, my name isn't Natalie. I go by Natasha now, but my real name, not a spy name or anything like that. The one on my original birth certificate is Natalia," she confessed, her voice soft and sincere. "Though I change names around, I've always been..."
"Nat?" You interrupted, the realization dawning on you.
She was caught off guard but smiled warmly, "Yeah, always, cupcake."
You searched her eyes, looking for any sign of deception, any hint that this was another lie. But all you found was sincerity and a depth of emotion that mirrored your own. The journey to rebuild trust would be a long one, but in that moment, you felt a glimmer of hope.
"It's going to take time for me to fully trust anything you say, but for now...please just...stay with me," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion as you clung to her tightly.
"Whatever you need, cupcake," Natasha replied, her voice filled with determination and resolve. Slowly the smoke dissipated around you, your mind clearing up.
Leaning up, you captured her lips in a soft, lingering kiss, the connection between you reigniting as you slowly explored the depths of your feelings. Despite the challenges and uncertainties that lay ahead, the bond between you remained unbroken, a testament to the strength of your connection and the hope for a future built on trust and understanding.
The atmosphere in the lab was thick with anticipation and nostalgia as Tony and yourself delved into the trunk of his father's belongings. The weight of the legacy left behind by his father loomed large, the contents of the trunk a tangible link to the past and the future.
"So this is all the stuff Grandpa left for you," you remarked, sorting through the items before handing a blueprint of the arc reactor to Tony. His fingers traced the lines and annotations, a sense of reverence in his touch as he studied the intricate design.
Setting the blueprint aside, Tony began to sift through his father's old journal, his eyes scanning the pages filled with calculations and theories. The depth of knowledge contained within the pages was staggering, a testament to his father's genius and the groundbreaking work he had undertaken.
"Hey, Dad, there are some reels of film. We should watch them," you suggested, your curiosity piqued as you handed the reels to Tony.
Nodding in agreement, Tony set up the projector, the soft whir of the film reels filling the room. As the images flickered to life, we were greeted by the familiar face of his father, his voice echoing through the years as he spoke passionately about the arc reactor and its potential to change the world.
As the film played on, revealing insights and revelations about the arc reactor's design and functionality, Tony and you were drawn deeper into the legacy that had shaped his family's destiny. The blend of past and present, the convergence of old knowledge and new possibilities, served as a poignant reminder of the responsibility you carried and the legacy you hoped to uphold.
Together, you continued to explore the contents of the trunk, each item a piece of the puzzle, each revelation a step closer to unlocking the mysteries of the arc reactor and fulfilling Tony's quest to perfect it for his own life force and well-being. The journey ahead was filled with challenges and uncertainties, but in that moment, you were united in your determination to honor the legacy of the past and forge a path forward into the future.
As the film continued to play, a poignant moment unfolded as Tony's father addressed him directly. The atmosphere in the lab grew still, the weight of the words hanging in the air as his father spoke with a sense of purpose and conviction.
"I built all of this for you, Tony," his father's voice echoed through the years, a heartfelt message from the past. "Someday, you'll understand it all and be able to pick up where I left off."
The sincerity in his father's words resonated deeply, the realization dawning on Tony that he was part of something far greater than himself, a legacy that spanned generations. The mention of his father, limited by the resources available to him at the time, added another layer of complexity to the narrative, highlighting the sacrifices and challenges faced by those who had come before him.
As the film continued, revealing more insights and revelations about the arc reactor's design and functionality, Tony was faced with the daunting task of carrying forward the legacy entrusted to him. The responsibility weighed heavily on him, but the belief and confidence his father had placed in him served as a source of inspiration and motivation.
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“It was an illegal seizure of trademark property.” Your mother spoke on the phone as you lounged on the couch in her office, the news once again playing on about Iron Man and talking about you. How young you are and how reckless it is of your adoptive father to allow you to use these enhanced powers. A scoff rolls off your tongue as if he truly had any control over you. You had mostly stopped paying attention to the droning anchorman when two words slipped out of a small girls mouth who was being interviewed.
“When I grow up I wanna be just like the Shadow Queen!” You shot up straight, watching the television and ignoring the fact that your father just walked in carrying the one thing your mom is allergic too.
“Did you guys hear that!?” You asked excitedly calling over the couch that you now perched backwards on and interrupting the conversation they were having. Both looked at you and then the news on TV which now had the headline ‘Shadow Queen: Is This Child Endangerment?’ Pepper let out an exasperated sigh and Tony smiled.
“You are not pulling anymore stunts. Natalie and I are still trying to do damage control.” Pepper spoke and you could hear how over the topic she’d become ever since Italy. You deflated a bit back into the couch until Natasha walked in. Her eyes flicked to you a smirk on her face as she walked up to Pepper.
“Wheels up in 25 minutes. Will Ms. Stark be joining us?” Natasha asked and you smiled.
“Yes she will be.” You answered, jumping the couch. “Oh and Natalie dear can you get me a meeting with the press? I’d like to make an official statement as Shadow Queen.” Both Pepper and Natasha looked at you.
“Absolutely not.” Pepper spoke.
“Sorry mom. I need to do this. I know you and dad both think I’m a kid still. I’m not. I’m not the same girl dad found. I’m an adult now. I’ve watched both of you for so long now and I need to do this for myself. I need the world to know who I am.” You look from your mom to Natasha who doesn’t offer any guidance as your eyes wander back to your mom who lets out a sigh.
“If it’s not your dad it’s you causing me a headache.” She was rubbing her temples. “Just go get ready for the flight. Wear something nice.”
“Do you need anything else boss?” You heard Happy call and when both Pepper and Tony tried to answer, Tony looked around the room at the three of you.
“Oh I see I lost all the kids in the divorce.” He laughs, but Natasha stays focused on Pepper and you stay focused on Natasha. You see Happy shake his head in your peripheral. “No.” Natasha’s focus moved from Pepper to out the floor to ceiling windows of the office before her eyes flickered back to you. Her expression unchanging. Tony cleared his throat, catching your attention. “Are you blending in well here, Natalie? Here at Stark Enterprises?” Is he serious right now? You think to yourself as his tone shifts. At the mention of her name Natasha turns her head towards Tony. Her head tilting down ever so slightly as if to say stop, but Tony being who he is continues. “Your name is Natalie, isn’t it?”
“Dad.” You catch all three of their attention. “Did you hit your head or something?” You ask sticking your hands in your pockets. “Her name hasn’t changed since we met her. Natalie. Natalie Rushman. Remember?” You tilt your head to the side almost as a little warning. Your tattoos shifting ever so slightly that catches Tony’s attention.
Pepper got up while the two of you talked, taking with her the papers she had just signed. “Y/N/N, hurry up. Go change I’ll meet you and Natalie on the plane.” You smiled at your mother as she left the room. Natasha began to clean up her desk waiting for Pepper to be gone before speaking,
“I’m surprised you can keep your mouth shut.” There was a bite to her voice that made you shiver and smile.
“Boy, you’re good. You are mind-blowingly duplicitous. How do you do it? You just tear things....You’re a triple imposter. I’ve never seen anything like you. Is there anything real about you? Do you even speak Latin?” Tony rambled and as Natasha started to leave, following behind you she spoke out in Latin,
“Which means? Wait. What? What did you just say?” Tony asked spinning around in his chair as you wait by the door for Natasha who spun around on her heels to answer him.
“It means I’m fucking your daughter.” She turned back and grabbed your wrist as the two of you left, your mind sputtering.
“What the hell Nat!?” You finally managed out as the two of you stopped at your room to change. An outfit already picked out by Natasha you assumed.
“You think that he’ll actually take that to heart? He called me a triple agent and asked if anything about me is real.” You went to say something, but she stopped you with a kiss. “Shhh cupcake. Get dressed in the outfit I picked.” Her breath hot against your lips and no matter how much you wanted to fight it. That wouldn’t happen as she helped get you undressed.
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You, Pepper, Happy, and Natasha arrive at the Expo. It’s all too loud and noisy for your liking, but you stick close to Natasha. You brush your arms together every so often and a gentle squeeze here and there from her when she can tell you’re getting too tense.
Your tattoos have ben shifting all night. Something wasn’t right and you make mention of it to Natasha when she asks what’s wrong. The markings adorning your body shifting along and Natasha who was already keeping a close eye on things seems to double down.
The three of you sat in the audience watching as Justin Hammer revealed his latest ‘invention’ which was just a rip of of the Iron Man suit making your blood boil and your tattoos itch as they crawled around your skin. You had begun itching at your arms until Natasha’s hand found yours. Your fingers intertwining with hers as she she your hands down on your lap. Keeping her eyes on the stage. You looked at her and then your eyes flicked to Pepper who was too wrapped up in the blatant rip off of Tony’s suit.
Everyone around the three of you clapping as he showed off each set in a different style for each branch of the military. “That’s a hell of a lot better than some cheerleader, let me tell you. But as revolutionary as this technology is, there will always be a need for man to be present in the theater of war.” You roll your eyes knowing just how badly things could go if they start adding anything remotely close to robotic tech like this into the mix of war. It should be nowhere near the battlefield, but idiots like Justin don’t know and don’t care about things like that when money is involved. “Ladies and gentlemen, today I am proud to present to you the very first prototype in the Variable Threat Response Battle Suit and its pilot, Air Force Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes.” As Justin stepped back leaving both Pepper and yourself in shock two quiet “What!?” came out of your mouths.
Rhodey was slowly lifted up in the Mark II suit he had taken a few days prior. You grit your teeth at the man who you practically considered an uncle turning against your father. As Rhodey came into full view you could tell modifications had been made to the suit and it looked a bit bulkier all around with a gun coming off the right shoulder. “For America and its allies, Hammer Industries is reporting for...” Justin didn’t get to finish his sentence as a rumbling started to approach catching everyone’s attention.
You knew what it was as soon as it came into view, your dad, in his suit. Coming right up and touching down in front of Rhodey. You stood up, un able to sit any longer, but you felt the tug back from Natasha. You looked back at her and exchanged looks for a moment before she slowly let your hand go after giving it a tight squeeze.
Everyone was standing up to clap so luckily it went mostly unnoticed until your tattoos moved off your skin pushing you up and landing you just behind your dad. He turned only slightly, but gave no other acknowledgement.
“We got trouble.” Tony stated walking towards Rhodey.
“Tony, Y/N/N there are civilians present.” Rhodey mentioned and you looked behind and back at him like, ‘yeah I know’. “I’m here on orders. Let’s not do this right now.”
“Give them a wave.” You heard Tony state as you walked up to the two men. You turned around giving a smile and two peace signs, letting your tattoos slowly dance around you.
“Hey, all right! Yeah!” Justin pushed past you trying to recapture the audience attention.
“All these people are in danger.” You heard Tony speak, but didn’t react as you were still looking at the crowd. “We gotta get em outta here. You gotta trust me for the next five minutes.”
“Yeah, I tried that. I got tossed around your house, remember?” Rhodey reminds and you turn to the two men finally.
“Listen I think he’s working with Vanko.”
“Vanko is alive?” Rhodey asked and you were questioning the same thing. Tony moved you back to just behind Rhodey as he stepped up to Justin.
“Where is he?” Tony asked Justin.
“What?”
“Where’s Vanko?”
“Who?”
“Tell me.”
“What are you doing here, man?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Rhodey spoke.
“What? What is it?” You ask looking up at Rhodey. Suddenly the gun on his shoulder is pointed at Tony along with the civilians. Your mind races knowing Pepper and Natasha are there too.
“Is that you!?” Tony asks in a panic.
“No, I’m not doing that. That’s not me. I can’t move. I’m locked up. I’m locked up.” Rhodes was panicing as the robots behind you also started to move.
“Dad. I’ve got this.” You called out moving just behind Rhodey. “Help Rhodey.” Almost all the tattoos came off your skin, acting as a barrier to stop the the robots from hurting anyone as they started to fire. Though you felt the hits through the markings you stood tall. As your dad and Rhodey took off into the sky so did the robots. Leaving you there.
“Fuck not being able to fly.” You grumbled, but your tattoos moved instinctively to protect the civilians from the falling glass. You coughed up blood from all the gunshots and glass. Trying to look over the crowd for your mother and Natasha. Finally finding them and moving yourself to them.
Your tattoos came back into you. Your skin feeling like it was on fire as you came up behind Natasha. She grabbed onto when you fell against her.
“You did a good job cupcake take a break. Daddy’s gotta take care of something.” You looked up at her in confusion before she arm barred Justin into the table. “You tell me who’s behind this. Who’s behind this?” Natasha practically growled and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on.
“Ivan. Ivan Vanko.” Justin groaned.
“Where is he?” She asked, tightening her hold.
“He’s at my facility.” As soon as she had the information she let go. Walking away from Pepper and you followed close behind.
“Don’t follow cupcake.” Her voice was stern, but you weren’t about to listen.
“I’m coming with you. I took this guy on once before. I’m coming with you and I’m helping.” Natasha stopped turning on her heels. She looked down at you. Her face was harsh and took your breath away, but you didn’t back down.
“I can’t loose you.” Natasha’s voice was flat.
“And I can’t loose you. So either we go together or I hold you here with me.” She raised an eyebrow in a challenge before turning once more and continuing on.
The two of you made your way outside, Happy caught your eye in the crowd of people trying to escape. “Nobody’s answering the phone. What’s going on?” He asked quickly.
“Get in the car. You’re taking us to Hammer industries.” Natasha called out and Happy looked to you for confirmation. You gave him a nod as Natasha got in the back seat, you climbing in passenger.
Happy drove frantically after you had gotten out of the crowd. Luckily because of the Expo and the time of night the streets were rather clear.
“When we arrive, I need you to watch the perimeter, Happy.” You looked back at Natasha, watching as she took her hair down. “I’m gonna enter the facility and take down the target.” Natasha started undressing and you looked away, a blush covering your cheeks as you noticed Happy looking. He started swerving and your tattoos moved up blocking the view as your girlfriend changed. You exchanged a look with Happy before his eyes returned to the road.
“Go ahead Nat. You’re good.” You called out to which you got a ‘Thanks cupcake.’ in return as another look with Happy is exchanged. “I’ll explain when half of New York isn’t in danger, okay?”
When we pull up to the building Nat has changed herself into that skin tight one piece she had on when you found out her true identity. If half of New York weren’t in danger you’d probably take her-
“Stay in the car Happy.” Nat called out as the two of you got out.
“I’m not staying in the car.” Happy called back.
“I said stay in the car.”
“What are you wearing?” Happy asked.
“Don’t ask. Just stay here Happy. Nat and I got this.” The two of us slipped inside. Working out a small plan before actually starting to attack anyone the two of you happened to come across. As you watched her in action for the first time you were simply amazed by her movements, her agility, just everything about her and you were lucky enough to call her yours?
Just as you were getting lost in thought one of Vanko’s guards came up, but the black tendrils of your tattoos came out. Wrapping around the guards throat just until he passed out from lack of oxygen. The two of you taking down guard after guard as you make your way to Vanko. Natasha pulled out two pistols as she kicked the door in, but Vanko was gone. Just two more of the guards hanging from the ceiling.
“He’s gone.” Natasha stated.
“Fuck.” You cursed, your hands balling into fists as the tattoos moved and itched. Natasha pushed further into the room. Getting up to the computer and started typing as you came up just behind her and to the side. Watching what she was doing. “Are you hacking back into Rhodey’s suit?” You asked getting a short ‘mhmm’ in response. Your eyebrows knitted together. “I didn’t know you could hack.” She threw you a look over her shoulder, a smirk playing on her lips.
“There’s a lot you still need to learn about me cupcake.” It was the way she worded it that made you smile.
“Tony.” Natasha looked at the screen where you could see your father’s face. “Got your best friend back.”
“Thank you very much Agent Romanoff.” Tony saying a meaningful thank you was something you hadn’t heard in a while.
“Well done with the new chest piece.” Natasha commented. “I am reading significantly higher output and your vitals all look promising.”
“Yes, for the moment, I’m not dying. Thank you.” Tony spoke through the comms and you smiled, wrapping and arm around Natasha.
“I’m happy to hear another parent won’t be dying on me.” You joked, but Natasha looked at you and narrowed her eyes.
“Dying? What do you mean? Did you just say you were dying?” Pepper’s face popped up on another monitor, butting into the conversation.
“Is that you? No, I’m not. Not anymore.” Tony replied. You and Natasha exchanged looks and decided not to get involved for the moment.
“What’s going on?”
“I was going to tell you. I didn’t want to alarm you.”
“You were going to tell me? You really were dying.” As the bickering went back and forth a few moments longer before Natasha interrupted finally.
“Hey, hey. Save it for the honeymoon. You got incoming Tony. Looks like the fights coming to you.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You sat nervously in an abandoned warehouse Fury had set up in. He had asked for you first; alone. Which made you nervous, your leg wouldn’t stop and all the tattoos moved around, twitching incessantly at your anxiety. You looked at the monitors Fury had set up and the news once again talking about ‘Shadow Queen and Iron Man.’ A hard dry swallow came along with it at the moment.
A few manilla folders sat on the desk in front of you with the S.H.I.E.L.D logo and all caps just underneath it, AVENGERS INITIATIVE followed by an empty space and then PRELIMINARY REPORT. Suddenly Fury’s hand is in front of you pushing the folder back onto the table, making your tattoos come off your body and stopping just before you hit him.
“Fuck! You scared me Fury.”
“Sorry little Stark. Just don’t need you lookin at that just yet.” You slowly nodded at him, licking your dry lips. “I don’t know if you’re ready for it just yet.” Your brows knitted together.
“Why don’t you tell me first, then we can figure it out together.” You offered and he laughed.
“You trying to negotiate with me little Stark?” A smile cracking on his face.
“I always negotiate. You know who my parents are don’t you?” You raise an eyebrow, but you aren’t expecting the answer you receive.
“Y/D/N Y/L/N died at at 32 in a car accident caused by your powers awakening. Y/M/N Y/L/N died at at 29 in the same car accident. The three of you were on your way into the city to go see a play on Broadway. You weren’t too interested in going and as you started to throw a tantrum over staying back at home with your nanny a sudden burst of energy came out of you, manifesting in what you now call your tattoos. After they came out of you, you accidently tore through,”
“STOP!” Your tattoos shifted uncomfortably at the memory you hadn’t thought about it in a few years. You had buried it away, pretended it never happened.
“You tore through both your parents ending their lives in an instant.” Fury finished and you felt bile rise up that you swallowed back down. “Then the injuries you sustained which were minimal due to your tattoos protecting you you had been left to your father’s best friend and originally your Godfather, Tony Stark.”
“Please...stop. I don’t need my life rehashed.” You pleaded.
“Look at this. Agent Romanoff’s assesment of you.”
“Is...is that really?”
“Read. It.” You sighed and took the folder opening it. Skimming through,
“Okay Y/N Stark takes much after her adoptive father in many aspects, but had many caring tendencies to look after and take care of others even at the young age she is. She is kind, caring, and loving to those around her even when she’s just met you.” You carry on reading until you see it. Y/N Stark a.k.a Shadow Queen has a lot of heart and could be a liability to herself and others due to her caring nature.” You read the last line again. “No. No that isn’t fair. She’s saying that becasuse she doesn’t want me out there! She’s saying this because she cares about me. She told me she can’t loose me and this is her way of trying to stop me!” You slammed your hands down and stood up.
“I know. She told me her reasoning. Told me it was the one time she couldn’t put her feelings to the side. I’ve known Romanoff for many years now and never has she had trouble putting her feelings to the side. So I am giving the yes.” You looked up at Fury.
“You are?” You asked a little shocked.
“Yes. I am. Do not make me regret it little Stark. You’ve trained for a long time and now it’s time for you to stand in the spotlight. Little girls are already looking up to you.” Fury patted your back letting you know you could leave. You had to go talk with Nat about this.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“So he still let you join?” The two of you were laying down, she was on her back and you snuggled into her side. For once you two were both in comfortable clothes. Her hair down and slightly messy with a tank top and sweats. While you were in leggings and an old iron maiden t-shirt. Her fingers running through your hair.
“Yes. I’m still not happy you tried to stop me.” You grumbled against her.
“I know and I still stand there on it.” You roll your eyes and bite at her shoulder making her moan out. “Hey. Behave.” She reprimands and pushes her fingers against your lips. You willingly take those instead. “I don’t want you risking it out there for the wrong people or reasons.” You nodded in understanding. “I can’t lose you.” Her voice was soft and her eyes bore into you. You let her fingers go, cupping her cheek before leaning up and kissing her. It was a soft kis where you two moved your lips against each other slowly and just enjoyed the moment before you pulled away.
“You won’t lose me. I promise.” You placed your foreheads together as she accepted the answer for now though you knew she’d still always worry. You’d never let her know just how worried she made you. She’s a black widow, but she was still a human with no enhancement unlike you. Your tattoos were instinctive to protect you and those you care about. “I’m not going anywhere Tasha.” You reassured her with another kiss as the two of you melted into each other, finally getting to just enjoy each other after the past month of activities that had occurred and you were hopeful for more time like this with her for at least a little while before Fury called up one of you. You could only hope though.
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genshin-obsessed · 3 months
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Could I request Diluc, Kaeya, and Zhongli trying their hardest -and failing- not to cry after their wife, due to being tired and frustrated during an argument, wonders if they should get divorced because she thinks she's tying them down?
Ooh, ok, I need to sleep BUT the chance to write angst? sleep can wait! I wasn't entirely sure how to end it so I just left it like this. I'm sure this could be much, much longer but I didn't wanna make it too long, yanno? meant as a fem!reader but I don't mentions pronouns, just the term 'wife'.
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▻ Kaeya
He didn't really know when the argument started. He didn't know what it was about anymore either. It was one of those arguments where the points end up getting lost and you're just yelling at one another about something completely unrelated. Honestly, you two were basically screaming at one another. But then he heard that one, awful sentence he never wanted to hear in his life.
"Why don't we just get a divorce and I won't be ruining your life anymore!?" Suddenly, the room's so eerily quiet that you finally realized what you said. Your gaze held Kaeya's and you watched as his usual cocky exterior just melt and tears fill his beautiful eyes. He slapped the back of his hand against his lips to stop but he couldn't. Your words shook him to his core and every thought in his mind was wiped away.
At some point, he didn't even register you trying to calm him down as he fell to his knees, tears flooding down his face. He didn't even register as he wrapped his arms around you in a near death grip, begging for you to stay.
He loved you, adored you, cherished you, worshipped you basically. So... wherever did you get this idea that you were tying him down? That you were ruining his life? Just where did he end up going wrong for you to have such awful thoughts?
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▻ Diluc
Often talking to Diluc was something that was a little touch and go. He didn't talk much and when he did, he usually only talked enough to get the point across and that was it. Even during arguments, Diluc only spoke when he felt it was necessary. To avoid pointless yelling matches, he kept quiet until you were done.
But tonight was... different. Maybe it was a hard day for him, maybe it was something you said, maybe it was that he had a frustrating spat with Kaeya, or maybe that he was dealing with issues at the tavern... but tonight, Diluc was just as angry as you. You two were yelling so much that even the maids heard you outside of the manor. There was no end in sight.
"Then leave, Diluc! Leave me and you can be happy doing whatever you want! I won't be here to tie you down anymore and you can be a free fucking bird!" Diluc opened his mouth to retaliate but nothing came out. It was like the world stopped moving for a second. This uncomfortable pit grew in his stomach and he just knew it was bad. You thought you were tying him down? Never once did such an atrocious thought ever cross his mind. Never during an argument, never during a bad day, not once in his life.
So... why did you? Diluc didn't realize just how much he hated the silence until that moment. He hated it so much, that the tears he attempted to bury just burst out in a loud cry. Anything to stop that deafening silence.
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▻ Zhongli
Zhongli was by far, the worst person to argue with. Why? He just sat there silently until you were done. Zhongli didn't argue, no. He waited, listened, then just explained his side. If it didn't work, he'd step away. But even an archon such as himself had limits. Your arguments never turned into screaming matches, at least not on his end, but sometimes they dragged on.
Today was just one such day. Even with his near impeccable memory, the man couldn't recall what happened to lead you two here. You were so upset and angry and no matter what he did, he made it worse. Truth be told, he was angry and frustrated too. It was like neither of you were listening to each other anymore.
"Well, if it's all pointless then why don't we just quit now?! Let's just get a divorce and you can go on happily without a wife to just drag you down!" That's when everything just stopped. Zhongli slowly looked away as he registered the words, feeling his chest begin to constrict.
Why... did you say that? Why would you think that? Was that his fault? You figure began to blur and he fell to his knees, desperately grabbing the dining table for support. You were at his side and tried to calm him down, desperately trying to wipe his tears but anything you said after just... didn't touch him. The awful reality of his life had his heart in a death grip and he could only listen if he got away from it.
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sharks-n-bones · 3 months
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Their scale ahh 🙏
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OH MY FUCKING GOSH HOLY FUCK I LOVE SO MUCH THEY'RE SO CUTE AND PERFECT AAAAAAAAAAA EATS YOUR ART YOU'RE AMAZING
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chilumi-shipper · 21 days
Text
Not Meant for the World
Kamisato Ayato x Fem!Servant!Reader
Summary: You fell for him, he fell for you, it was the typical start of a relationship, only problem is… well, he's him and you're you. A Commissioner who holds power over the nation, and a servant that basically amounts to nothing in the whole scheme of things. It was a mutual decision to keep your relationship a secret, only to be kept within the dead of night in his bedroom, evaporating before the sun could even rise for another day. But then… Ayato seems so keen keeping it a secret forever, letting the stream of wedding proposals and love letters flood in, going through great lengths to make sure the information doesn't leak out, almost like he's ashamed of being with someone like you. You could only take so much of that.
Tags: Angst no Comfort, Hidden Relationship
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
"You should probably go back to your quarters." As you were snuggled up to your lover's chest, enjoying his warmth under the covers of his bed, he spoke.
"But it's barely time." You whined, pressing your body closer to his and rubbing your face on his chest.
Back then, he would cave, he would chuckle and wrap his arms tighter around you, saying that you could stay for a little bit more and that he didn't really want you to leave anyway.
Now… he pulls away from your embrace, sighing as he looks you in the eye.
"It would be best to elliminate all the chances of us being caught, and I believe that some of the servants have been getting up early to start their shifts." He reasoned, his hold faltering as you feel his arms slip off you.
You felt a clenching pain in your chest as you slowly get up, looking around his room, you didn't want to leave, and yet when you looked at him, you felt like you were being pushed away.
"Okay… I guess I'll get going now…"
This is the part where he would usually kiss you and remind you that he loves you…
It never came…
You left his room without another word.
"Is it perhaps too much to visit a festival together?" You asked, not expecting a pleasurable answer from the Yashiro Commissioner sat on his office chair and drinking a cup of tea you prepared for him.
"I believe it is, being seen in public in a non-professional setting would be rather suspicious if it's just the two of us." Ayato responds firmly, oblivious to (or perhaps just ignoring) the frown that formed on your face.
"We've been out together multiple times…" You reasoned, though you sounded unsure, not wanting to sour his mood and lessen your chances of getting him to agree to your proposal. "We haven't been on a date in a while."
"The families offering up their daughters to me are very vigilant of my public movements, suspicions will arise if they were to see me with any lady for no particular reason." He did not even spare you a glance, answering swiftly as he always does.
Yet again, you fail to persuade him to be with you. You prepared to say more, but a knock came before your words.
A guest came to the estate, a father of one of the many noble ladies offering their hand in marriage.
Long story short, he's here to talk marriage business, as these fathers always do.
When the guest left for a moment, "My lord, I just need a few more minutes to talk to you." Many times, you have tried to intervene, not satisfied with how your conversation earlier abruptly ended.
"Y/N, there are matters more important than this. Wait a moment." He pays you no mind, but you have had enough. "You are being too obv-"
"Ayato, stop." You spoke firmly, freezing him in his place. "I'm still talking to you." You approached him, his back still turned to you.
Slowly, he turned around to face you, his eyes held an unfit expression for him, almost like nervousness. "Y/N, let's not do this now…"
"Do you still want to be with me?" You asked impulsively, stripping the formalities and simply talking to the man you knew as your lover. Your eyes fill with tears, looking at him being lost for words. You hoped his answer would be immediate, that he would exclaim that why would you even ask such a question.
As you stood there, "Lord Kamisato, come along, don't let the servant keep all of our time." The guest came back, standing beside Ayato, who had yet to say anything.
No words were spoken, but the Commissioner knew that right there, right in front of the unknowing guest, in your watery gaze, he had a choice to make.
"Why don't you get us some tea in the meantime?" The guest spoke up again referring to you, but you have no intention of moving until your lover finally speaks up.
With a gulp, Ayato stood his ground. "Yes, please prepare us some tea, Y/N. No more of your nonsense."
A single tear, that's what you allowed for him to see as you nodded silently. But as you prepared the tea, your vision was blurry from the neverending tears, your sobs couldn't be controlled as you struggle to catch your breath.
But you needed that, you needed that to remind yourself that you are merely a servant.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
The Yashiro Commissioner sat on his bed that night, looking at the door to his room. His heart was beating fast, hoping for it to open and show the figure of his lover, though the odds are against his desires.
He hoped that maybe you'd spare him a chance, that you'd walk into the room and tell him that you'll allow him to show you how you much he truly loves you.
The door remains close. And so does his heart begin to ache. Ayato didn't sleep that night, he merely lied down and looked up at the ceiling, trying to imagine your warmth embracing him, trying to make it seem like your side of the bed wasn't left cold.
"My Lord…" His eyes looked up from the document he's been staring it for the past hour when he heard your voice… calling him in such a cold manner. You said nothing more, placing a tray of tea and pastries on an empty spot on his desk.
"Ahh, thank you…" Ayato looked at your face, hoping to see your usual smile whenever you served him his afternoon tea, yet your face held nothing but a blank expression. You merely bowed at him, before leaving without another word.
Your name was at the tip of his tongue, and his entire being screamed at him to just say it. He wanted desperately to call for your attention, but, though he did not want to admit it… he was scared…
You stopped in your tracks, remembering something that you had to discuss with him. Ayato, ever so perceptive of your actions, perked up.
"You have a meeting with the head of the Tenryou Commission later at noon, something about an agreement with regards to your relation with his daughter." You did not bother to face him to give him the reminder, opting to walk away once you finished your sentence.
The Yashiro Commissioner's face fell as he watched you leave the room, his heart still heavy, and his mind cursing at him for not having the guts to talk to you properly.
The pain felt more real once he entered his room for the night.
The place has been wiped clean of your existence, the covers have been changed so not even your scent lingered, some of the clothes you kept in his closet are gone, the vase of flowers you like to decorate his nightstand with is gone…
The framed picture of the two of you that sat on his nightstand is gone…
It felt suffocating…
With a sigh, Ayato closed the door, not wanting to see such a sad space, he instead went back to his office.
As he sat on his chair, he opened one of the drawers of his desk…
A smiled couldn't help but form on his face, a bittersweet one, when he saw the picture of you that he kept there a long time ago.
He laid his head on his arms on the desk, your picture next to his face. He figures that it was the only way he can sleep without feeling the suffocating emptiness of his room weighing upon him.
Today is the day the festival you were so excited about starts, and it's already been arranged for quite a while that today is your day-off. "…Y/N was really hoping that I'd join her at the festival." Half of
Thoma's words were muffled, but he could make out your name and the festival.
The blond retainer was asking for a day-off as well, to go with you.
Something uncomfortable boiled in Ayato's core, you asked him to join you back then, and he said that he couldn't. Yet, all he wishes now was to accompany you, to be by your side and not have to think about keeping your relationship a secret.
"With Y/N…?" Ayato asked, his voice laced with disappointment that did not escape his retainer's ears.
"Is something the matter, my Lord?"
Truly did his entire being want to disapprove of Thoma's request, he wants to go to you and offer to go with you himself.
"No, I'm quite alright, Thoma…" The Yashiro Commissioner heaved a sigh. "I'll allow your request."
You spent your day at the festival with Thoma, and it was obvious that you enjoyed it given the large smile that was plastered when you got back to the estate.
Meanwhile, Ayato spent his day at his desk, looking at meaningless paperwork while dreaming of being hand-in-hand with you at the festival, imagining that you would eat your heart out with all the streetfood available, watch the firework show when nighttime falls, and dance slowly at the festival music at midnight when everyone else already left.
That night though, he approaches you, his heart pounding when he caught your attention. "May I… ask you to sleep next to me again?"
He was tired, he could only take a week of sleeping in his office because his room haunted him too much. Unfortunately for him, he doesn't know how to even start explaining himself, doesn't know how to win you back, to say that he does choose you over any form of nobility that he has.
You smiled at him… emptily.
"I'm your servant, my lord. If you wish for me to, I will."
So you did, you slept next to him, he hugged you tightly, snuggling you up to his chest, yet you refused to hug back, to nuzzle in his embrace like you used to. You merely did as you were requested.
Ayato tried to ignore the tightening of his heart just before sleep and exhausted took over him.
But he couldn't ignore the chill he felt when he woke up hugging nothing. It's just as it should be, the servant listened to her lord, and now she left to do her other tasks.
It was crazy to hope a relationship like yours could work out. Kamisato Ayato felt a few tears fall from his eyes, now, he wished for you to stay.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Yo, it's 3am and I'm gonna sleep now.
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Text
General Mills and cheaply bought "dietitians" co-opted the anti-diet movement
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I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in NEXT THURSDAY (Apr 11) in BOSTON with Randall "XKCD" Munroehttps://cockeyed.com/lessons/viagra/viagra.html, then PROVIDENCE, RI (Apr 12), and beyond!
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Steve Bannon isn't wrong: for his brand of nihilistic politics to win, all he has to do is "flood the zone with shit," demoralizing people to the point where they no longer even try to learn the truth.
This is really just a more refined, more potent version of the tactical doubt sown by Big Tobacco about whether smoking caused cancer, a playbook later adopted by the fossil fuel industry to sell climate denial. You know Darrell Huff's 1954 classic How To Lie With Statistics? Huff was a Big Tobacco shill (his next book, which wasn't ever published, was How To Lie With Cancer Statistics). His mission wasn't to help you spot statistical malpractice – an actual thing that is an actual problem that you should actually learn to spot. It was to turn you into a nihilist who didn't believe anything could be known:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/04/how-to-truth/#harford
Corporations don't need you to believe that their products are beneficial or even non-harmful. They just need you to believe nothing. If you don't know what's true, then why not just do whatever feels good, man? #YOLO!
These bannonfloods of shit are a favored tactic of strongmen and dictators. Their grip on power doesn't depend on their citizens trusting them – it's enough that they trust no one:
http://jonathanstray.com/networked-propaganda-and-counter-propaganda
Bannonflooding is especially beloved of the food industry. Food is essential, monopolized, and incredibly complicated, and many of the most profitable strategies for growing, processing and preparing food are very bad for the people who eat that food. Rather than sacrificing profits, the food industry floods the zone with shit, making it impossible to know what's true, in hopes that we will just eat whatever they're serving:
https://journals.plos.org/plosbiology/article?id=10.1371/journal.pbio.2003460
Now, the "nothing can be known" gambit only works if it's really hard to get at the truth. So it helps that nutrition and diet are very complex subjects, but it helps even more that the nutrition and diet industry are a cesspool of quacks and junk science. This is a "scientific discipline" whose prestigious annual meetings are sponsored (and catered) by McDonald's:
https://www.motherjones.com/environment/2014/05/my-trip-mcdonalds-sponsored-nutritionist-convention/
It's a "science" whose most prominent pitchmen peddle quack nostrums and sue the critics who point out (correctly) that eating foods high in chlorophyll will not "oxygenate your blood" (hint, chlorophyll only makes oxygen in the presence of light, which is notably lacking in your colon):
https://www.badscience.net/2007/02/ms-gillian-mckeith-banned-from-calling-herself-a-doctor/
When the quack-heavy world of nutrition combines with the socially stigmatized world of weight-loss, you get a zone ripe for shitflooding. The majority of Americans are "overweight" (according to a definition that relies on the unscientific idea of BMI) and nearly half of Americans are "obese." These numbers have been climbing steadily since the 1970s, and every diet turns out to be basically bullshit:
https://headgum.com/factually-with-adam-conover/what-does-ozepmic-actually-do-with-dr-dhruv-khullar
Notwithstanding the new blockbuster post-Ozempic drugs, we're been through an unbroken 50-year run of more and more of us being fatter and fatter, even as fat stigma increased. Fat people are treated as weak-willed and fundamentally unhealthy, while the most prominent health-risks of being fat are roundly neglected: the mental health effects of being shamed, and the physical risks of having doctors ignore your health complaints, no matter how serious they sound, and blame them on your weight:
https://maintenancephase.buzzsprout.com/1411126/11968083-glorifying-obesity-and-other-myths-about-fat-people
Fat people and their allies have banded together to address these real, urgent harms. The "body acceptance" movement isn't merely about feeling good in your own skin: it's also about fighting discrimination, demanding medical care (beyond "lose some weight") and warning people away from getting on the diet treadmill, which can lead to dangerous eating disorders and permanent weight gain:
https://www.beacon.org/You-Just-Need-to-Lose-Weight-P1853.aspx
Fat stigma is real. The mental health risks of fat-shaming are real. Eating disorders are real. Discrimination against fat people is real. The fact that these things are real doesn't mean that the food industry can't flood the zone with shit, though. On the contrary: the urgency of these issues, combined with the poor regulation of dietitians, makes the "what should you eat" zone perfect for flooding with endless quantities of highly profitable shit.
Perhaps you've gotten some of this shit on you. Have you found yourself watching a video from a dietitian influencer like Cara Harbstreet, Colleen Christensen or Lauren Smith, promoting "health at any size" with hashtags like #DerailTheShame and #AntiDiet? These were paid campaigns sponsored by General Mills, Pepsi, and other multinational, multibillion-dollar corporations.
Writing for The Examination, Sasha Chavkin, Anjali Tsui, Caitlin Gilbert and Anahad O'Connor describe the way that some of the world's largest and most profitable corporations have hijacked a movement where fat people and their allies fight stigma and shame and used it to peddle the lie that their heavily processed, high-calorie food is good for you:
https://www.theexamination.org/articles/as-obesity-rises-big-food-and-dietitians-push-anti-diet-advice
It's a surreal tale. They describe a speech by Amy Cohn, General Mills’ senior manager for nutrition, to an audience at a dietitian's conference, where Cohn "denounced the media for 'pointing the finger at processed foods' and making consumers feel ashamed of their choices." This is some next-level nihilism: rather than railing against the harmful stigma against fat people, Cohn wants us to fight the stigma against Cocoa Puffs.
This message isn't confined to industry conferences. Dietitians with large Tiktok followings like Cara Harbstreet then carry the message out to the public. In Harbstreet's video promoting Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Cocoa Puffs and Trix, she says, "I will always advocate for fearlessly nourishing meals, including cereal…Because everyone deserves to enjoy food without judgment, especially kids":
https://www.tiktok.com/@streetsmart.rd/video/7298403730989436206
Dietitians, nutritionists and the food industry have always had an uncomfortably close relationship, but the industry's shitflooding kicked into high gear when the FDA proposed rules limiting which foods the industry can promote as "healthy." General Mills, Kelloggs and Post have threatened a First Amendment suit against such a regulation, arguing that they have a free speech right to describe manifestly unhealthy food as "healthy."
The anti-diet movement – again, a legitimate movement aimed at fighting the dangerous junk science behind dieting – has been co-opted by the food industry, who are paying dietitian influencers to say things like "all foods have value" while brandishing packages of Twix and Reese's. In their Examination article, the authors profile people who struggled with their weight, then, after encountering the food industry's paid disinformation, believed that "healthy at any size" meant that it would be unhealthy to avoid highly processed, high calorie food. These people gained large amounts of weight, and found their lives constrained and their health severely compromised.
I've been overweight all my life. I went to my first Weight Watchers meeting when I was 12. I come from a family of overweight people with the chronic illnesses often associated with being fat. This is a subject that's always on my mind. I even wrote a whole novel about the promise and peril of a weight-loss miracle:
https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781429969284/makers
I think the anti-diet movement, and its associated ideas like body acceptance and healthy at every size, are enormously positive developments and hugely important. It's because I value these ideas that I'm so disgusted with Big Food and its cynical decision to flood the zone with shit. It's also why I'm so furious with dietitians and nutritionists for failing to self-regulate and become a real profession, the kind that censures and denounces quacks and shills.
I have complicated feelings about Ozempic and its successors, but even if these prove to be effective and safe in the long term, and even if we rein in the rapacious pharma companies so that they no longer sell a $5 product for $1000, I would still want dietary science to clean up its act:
https://jamanetwork.com/journals/jamanetworkopen/fullarticle/2816824
I'm not a nihilist. I think we can use science to discover truths – about ourselves and our world. I want to know those truths, and I think they can be known. The only people who benefit from convincing you that the truth is unknowable are the people who want to lie to you.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/05/corrupt-for-cocoa-puffs/#flood-the-zone-with-shit
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flwrstqr · 2 months
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˚୨୧⋆。 HOW TO KISS A GIRL
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₊˚⊹ notes ~ childhoodbestfriend!jungwon x fem!reader ⋆⭒ warnings: kisses, mentioning jungwon liking another girl, reader is a bit oblivious l ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 word count: 300+꩜⋆ ˚。⋆˚ genre: fluff, child hood friends to lovers
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"HOW DO YOU KISS A GIRL?" jungwon asked nervously, making you choke on your water. you coughed, trying to clear your throat.
"kiss?" you raised your eyebrows, feeling your heart sink. It was clear he liked someone else, asking such a basic question to you, his best friend and secret crush since age 5. your dream of romance shattered.
"yeah, kiss..." jungwon coughed awkwardly, making your heart heavier.
"oh..." your voice trailed off, thinking of what to say. "just go with the flow," you suggested. Jungwon thought for a moment and then paused.
"should I try with my crush, then?" he asked, leaving you puzzled.
"she's here?" you questioned, looking around the park.
"yeah, so should I?" Jungwon asked. your heart sank further, realizing he was about to kiss his crush right in front of you.
"yeah, you should," you replied, feeling burdened but determined to make Jungwon happy. Your hopes of him asking you out vanished.
and then it happened. In seconds of advising Jungwon to kiss his crush, you felt his lips on yours. everything clicked; you were his crush. It was unexpected, a rush of warmth flooding through you. his lips were soft against yours, and for a moment, the world stood still. frozen, you felt his cheeks burn as he pulled away.
"jungwon..." you began, but he interrupted.
"okay, if you don't have mutual-"
"I like you too, Jungwon. I've liked you since the beginning," you confessed, surprising him.
"me too," his cheeks flushed. "So, what are we?"
"maybe we'll figure it out after this," you said, leaning in for another kiss. the touch of his lips on yours sending a shiver down your spine, his lips perfectly fitting yours. everything was truly perfect.
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femboycatofmystery · 11 days
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Hey folks let me anti-doomscroll you for a quick second:
Batteries and Solar have been getting cheap very quickly for a long time now and not only is it not stopping, but even at the rates it's at the economics of energy are shifting rapidly. The costs of decarbonizing all forms of electric power are now more down to infrastructure and planning than bulk cost. Compare and contrast to the turn of the century when Solar was so prohibitively expensive that saying we'd meet any meaningful fraction of our needs with photovoltaics would have gotten you laughed out of the room.
Meanwhile, although there are lots of complicated moving parts and a surprising amount of gross politics attached, gas cars are now less good in most ways than electric. Again, at the turn of the century this would have sounded laughable.
Many industries have specific needs that prevent direct conversion to electric, but hydrocarbon fuels are not intrinsically fossil fuels and can be made as a storage medium for solar. Hydrocarbon fuels made in this way are intrinsically carbon neutral. The technology is relatively young, but from a basic math perspective looks very doable.
Inflation actually has more to do with the above than it does with whatever it is the federal reserve does, and pulling down a supply of energy from the sky that requires less infrastructure to get (which is true because that's why it's cheaper now) directly helps.
The current "business as usual" scenarios with global warming are lower than they used to be, because the solar transition is just sort of happening because of economics without a lot of government help. All of the above lower the amount of friction and pushback we face when trying to get the government to do something.
By the way, the Inflation Reduction Act, passed by Joe Biden a couple years back, is explicitly designed to accelerate these trends.
As disastrous as the current projections for global warming are, it's important to keep two things in perspective: first, that they are exactly that, disasters, not the end-of-the-world kind but more sort of the hurricanes and floods kind, and second, while they certainly will get worse before they get better, they can and will get better. What we do now from a policy perspective has an outsize impact on how much flooding, droughts, and other weather-related costs we will face in the decades to come, but "human civilization ends" is not actually particularly likely. It is much more realistic to say "we could have a huge number of climate-related disasters or a moderately increased number, and every little bit of policy work helps move the needle".
We can and we will solve global warming, the question is not if but when, and how many lives can we save or improve by acting as soon as possible. Imagining this as an almost-certain death sentence for the future of humanity and nature is not merely unrealistic, but wildly counterproductive. It is paralyzing and enervating when what will do the most good is planning, policy, and communication.
Remember, despair is not a tool for positive change. Hope is the real language of revolution.
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fma03envy · 2 years
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Do you ever look at fan content for a character and think. Ok there's a kind of integral trait/behavior of theirs that everyone's leaving out of their depictions and without it this doesn't feel like the same character at all. But also given what said trait is it's absolutely fair that they wouldn't feel like including it, idk if I'd want to either
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daysofyellowroses · 3 months
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steak
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carmen berzatto x reader | 3.8k | tw: pregnancy, implied smut, general nonsense
“I need a favor.”
“A favor?”
“Yes. A favor.”
You were already beginning to regret asking, watching Carmy swivel in his chair and ponder the request. Or he was staring into space, it wasn't clear.
“Alright,” He nodded after a moment. “What is it?”
You took a deep breath, bracing yourself. It would have been easier to ask him to murder someone than what you were about to.
“It turns out that I am responsible for making 30 cupcakes for this Saturday and I could use some guidance.”
“I see,” Carmy nodded, pointing the spoon in his hand at you. “and what else? Sandwiches, burgers, hot dogs, stop me when I get the right one.”
You let out a sigh.
“And..three trays of sandwiches. And mini quiches, egg rolls, a crudités platter and a cake.”
“Okay,” Carmy sat up a little, lightly tapping the spoon against his cheek. “Just..a couple of questions.”
You walked closer to the desk, leaning against it and giving Carmy a nod. “Fire away.”
“First, why are you responsible for all of that?”
“Because apparently I promised my best friend if she ever got pregnant I would plan the entire baby shower.”
“Uh-huh. Why?”
“Because I was very, very intoxicated at her bachelorette party.”
He smirked a little, and you rolled your eyes with a small smile.
“Noted. Second question,”
“Third,” You interjected, holding up three fingers. “Technically.”
“Third question, is there a theme to this party?”
“No, of course not,” You frowned, folding your arms. “Themes are for kid's birthday parties and epic novels.”
“Hm, I thought so.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“It just doesn't seem very..you know,” Carmy set the spoon down in his lap before interlocking his hands. “cohesive, I guess.”
You rested your hand on the desk, lightly tapping your nails on the surface.
“I'm willing to ignore that remark if you help me.”
“Alright, fourth question..why do I have to help you?”
You thought about it for a moment, working out your best angle to get him on board.
“Well..because I love my best friend and I want to give her an amazing experience, it's basically free publicity for the new restaurant, and we're..you know,” You gestured between yourself and Carmy with a grin. “We're friends. We're close. We kissed that time.”
“Yeah, yeah we did,” Carmy nodded, looking down for a moment before looking up with a smile. “When we were like..six? I don't see what that has to do with me adding to my already hectic schedule.”
“I would just really appreciate your help, even just a little guidance,” You smiled, holding your hands up. “What is the point of having a world-class chef as a friend if he doesn't help you out occasionally..”
“I promise to think about it,” Carmy nodded, picking his spoon back up and pointing at you. “Can you cook anything more advanced than french toast?”
“Depends on your definition of advanced,” You shrugged, pushing off the desk. “I look forward to your decision, I know you'll make the right one.”
“Get out of here,” Carmy rolled his eyes with a small smile. “I'll text you.”
You were heading to the front door when you bumped into Richie, who was carrying a box he promptly dropped on the nearest plastic-covered surface when he saw you, wiping his hands.
“Hey. What brings you here?”
“Me?” You gestured to yourself as you walked closer to Richie. “I just..I thought it was time. To declare my undying love for you.”
“Hm,” Richie nodded, rubbing his jaw before stepping closer to you and touching your shoulder. “I gotta be honest, I thought you'd never do it. Vegas wedding?”
“Vegas wedding,” You nodded with a grin. “Bye fuck-face.”
“See you later darling.”
It was the following afternoon when you got a very simple text from Carmy, relief flooding you as you read it.
‘Fine. Address?’
Opening your front door and seeing Carmen Berzatto standing on the other side was something you hadn't experienced for a long time, but it was a welcome return.
“Come on in, everything is set up in the kitchen,” You smiled, holding the door open and frowning slightly as you saw a worn grocery store bag in Carmy's hand. “Did you bring stuff when I told you that you didn't need to?”
“Sure did,” Carmy nodded, gesturing to his shoes. “Off? On?”
“Whatever you're comfortable with,” You waved your hand, gesturing to the bag. “I got everything, you really didn't need to waste your money on..liquid potassium or whatever, the food is not going to be anything too complicated.”
Carmy raised a brow as he slipped off his shoes. “You do know I'm a chef, not a mad scientist, right?”
“Oh shut up,” You sighed as he laughed, leading him into the kitchen.
“The fuck is liquid potassium anyway?”
“Here we are,” You spun around to face Carmy, gesturing to your humble kitchen, the dining table covered in various ingredients, in no particular order. “I really appreciate your help, I know you're busy.”
“It's fine,” Carm nodded, walking over to the table and setting the bag on the floor before picking up things on the table and inspecting them. “I'm not uh..I'm not needed, today.”
“Well I need you,” You grinned, walking over to the table. “The plan is I prepare everything today, then tomorrow I just have to heat up, and serve.”
“Organized, I like it,” Carmy nodded, looking over to you. “Where exactly do I fit in all this?”
“You..are my assistant for the day. Executive assistant, really.”
You gestured to the bag on the floor. “Show me what you got.”
An hour later, your kitchen was a whole lot messier, but progress was going well. Carmy had the patience of a saint, calmly explaining how everything was done. You were surprised how quickly you were picking up what he taught you, usually you got halfway through a YouTube cooking tutorial and gave up, ordering takeout instead.
“Okay, what's next on the list?” You asked, sprinkling herbs onto the egg roll pastry before wiping your hands. “I still can't believe you made me write a fucking list.”
“You needed the list,” Carmy grinned, reaching for the slip of paper. “Trust me. Okay, once you've finished those we can..almost cross off all the savory, just crudités but that's pretty simple. I can show you how to make dips, if you want.”
“Thought you'd never ask,” You grinned, flicking a loose crumb of pastry at him. “the vegetables are in the..”
You looked up for a minute, trying to think.
“Bottom of the fridge,” Carmy supplied, gently touching your back as he passed you to get to the fridge. “got them.”
You rolled up the pastry under your hands, setting it aside with the other egg rolls that had been prepared.
“So how has it been, being back?” You asked, going to rinse your hands. “I feel like I never asked you properly.”
“It's..fine, yeah,” Carmy replied, his head in the fridge when you glanced over to him. “Hasn't changed, much, well..you know. Never thought I'd end up back here.”
“At least you got out,” You shrugged, drying your hands before moving back to the counter. “How was New York? Incredible?”
“Incredible,” Carmy repeated, coming back to join you and reaching for a bowl. “Hand me that cucumber, please?”
“I need to visit one day,” You sighed, reaching for the cucumber and handing it over. “It's like..it's just there, I can go anytime, but I don't..I will, though.”
“Mm,” Carmy nodded. “You can pour greek yogurt into a bowl if you want.”
“On it,” You smiled, going to get a bowl. “I feel like such a domestic goddess right now, I gotta say. I never really cook. Not like this.”
“Are you enjoying it?” Carmy asked, not looking up from cutting up the cucumber. “I know cutting up vegetables isn't exactly an adrenaline rush.”
“I am enjoying it,” You got a bowl and went to set it on the counter, standing by Carmy. “It's relaxing. I'm not thinking about anything except the next step. I don't have to worry about anything except what I add next.”
“Lemon,” Carmy gestured to the yellow fruit over on the table. “Worry over.”
You smiled as you spooned the yogurt into the bowl, glancing over to Carmy. “You wanna know a secret?”
“Is it..that you're actually a serial killer who kills your victims by liquid potassium poisoning?”
“Oh shut the fuck up,” You groaned, going to grab the lemons as Carmy laughed and shook his head.
“Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. What's this other secret?”
“No, I'm not telling you now,” You sighed, taking the lemons back to the counter. “If you're just gonna be an ass.”
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Carm murmured softly, gently nudging you. “Please tell me.”
“It's a world exclusive secret,” You grinned, walking over to the table and picking up your bag from one of the chairs. “Only three people will now know..”
You reached into your bag, pulling out a clean white envelope.
“Time to see if we need to use the pink or blue food dye.”
“What do you mean?” Carmy looked over to you. “Like a..gender reveal? That's still a thing?”
“I know it's a little cheesy,” You shrugged, looking down at the envelope. “But my best friend is just really excited to have this baby, she wants to know everything she can. So she gave me this,” You held up the envelope. “And I get to whip up some frosting.”
“So, what's it gonna be?” Carmy asked as you walked back over.
“Let's see,” You opened the envelope slowly, feeling Carmy's eyes on you. “Ah..not what I expected.”
You handed the paper over to Carmy as you picked up a lemon. “There's gonna be a little kid running around that looks like her..crazy.”
“Nice, though,” Carmy shrugged, setting the paper aside. “You know, if you..if you're someone that wants that.”
“Mm,” You nodded, taking a knife to cut the lemon. “She has, for a long time. I was so excited for her when she told me. Then I went and agreed to do all this, because..”
“You were drunk?” Carmy supplied.
“Yes, that,” You laughed, shaking your head. “It's not going that bad though, right? Everything is under control.”
“True, but uh..” You looked up as you felt Carmy's hand on your arm, looking down and finding yourself staring at his tattoos.
“You might want to cut the lemons, not your fingers.”
“What? Shit,” You frowned as you looked back to your hands, a trickle of blood appearing. “Spoke too soon.”
“It's okay,” Carmy led you to the sink. “just wash it off, have you got band-aids?”
“Uh..yeah, I think so,” You nodded, running the water. “in the bathroom cabinet.”
“Okay, wait here.”
A few minutes later you were leaning against the counter watching Carmy apply a band-aid to your finger with the precision of a surgeon.
“I can't remember the last time someone put a band-aid on me,” You murmured softly. “Thanks.”
“Don't mention it,” Carm looked up, his hand still holding yours. “I'm an expert at it.”
“So I see,” You smiled, inspecting your finger. “Excellent work. I'll be sure and recommend you.”
“I might need the extra work,” He sighed. “We're getting close to the deadline and it just feels like we're not progressing.”
“Hey,” You gently squeezed his hand. “Stressing out won't change anything except to make everything harder. Just keep going, do what you need to do, and then on the tiny, tiny, chance it doesn't work out you have a career lined up as a professional band-aider. You can patch up my victims.”
Carmy was quiet for a moment before he laughed, really laughed, and you felt a weight slip off your shoulders.
After a moment a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, your eyes held on each other.
“I‐”
“I should actually be going,” Carmy spoke before you could finish. “I just remembered I need to call this guy about the..”
“Okay,” You nodded, clearing your throat. “I can..I can handle the rest. Don't let me keep you if you're in a rush.”
You could see the guilt in Carm’s eyes, choosing to look away.
“I'm sorry to leave you in the middle of all this.”
“Don't be sorry,” You shrugged, looking down to your bandaged finger. “It's my responsibility, I got it. Thank you for your help.”
Carmen gave you a nod and you mustered up a smile in return, watching him leave.
A couple of hours later, the sun had set and your kitchen lights were bright as you flicked some cupcake batter off your fingers. When you heard a knock at the door you looked up, pausing for a minute before grabbing a cloth to wipe your hands.
“Coming, hang on.” You called, setting the cloth aside and heading to the door.
It wasn't a total surprise to see Carmen on the other side.
“Hey,” He said after a moment. “Can I come in?”
“Of course,” You stood aside, holding the door open. “Come on in.”
You watched him as he took a deep breath, hand clutching the zip of his jacket.
“So, about earlier, I-”
“I know,” You smiled, holding up your hand. “It was a lot. It was fun, and..domestic, and kind of intense, and that's a lot. I get it.”
“Yeah,” Carmy breathed, nodding sofly. “But..I'd still like to help you out, if you'll let me.”
“Then get your shoes off and get in the kitchen,” You smiled. “I'm just starting the cupcakes. Assistance is definitely needed.”
Half an hour and a lot of batter later, the cupcakes were in the oven, and the daunting prospect of the cake stood in front of you.
“Do I really need to make a cake and cupcake?” You mused, looking at the messy counter. “It feels excessive.”
“You're making the cake,” Carm nudged you gently. “Show me what you've learned.”
“Prepare to be amazed,” You grinned. “For better or worse.”
You cleared some space on the counter and glanced over to Carmy for a moment with a raised brow. “Hold still, you got batter in your hair.”
You gently moved your hand to carefully remove the fleck of batter.
“Would I be out of line to suggest you might be overdue for a haircut?”
Carmy laughed softly and shook his head, ruffling his messy curls.
“It's on a list, somewhere. I'll get round to it eventually.”
“I could do it,” You suggested, looking back to the counter and taking a clean bowl. “I know my way around a pair of scissors.”
“Really?”
“Really really,” You nodded, reaching for the flour. “you help me with this cake, I'll make you look like a new man.”
“Deal.”
Once the cupcakes were out of the oven and the cake was in, you sent Carmy off to wash his hair in your shower, leaning against the counter when he was gone and taking a deep breath. You reached for the note that your best friend had given you, smiling as you read over it.
When Carm came back into the kitchen, you felt your heart race a little. He was dressed the same of course but his damp hair was slicked back, and he had a warm, clean scent that still had a musk to it that was really doing it for you.
“The cake will be a while, I checked,” You smiled. “Skewered it like a pro. Take a seat, let's get you fixed up.”
“Are you going to skewer me?” Carmy asked, raising a brow as he sat on the chair you'd moved up by the counter. “I'm a little intrigued.”
“You'll see,” You grinned, picking up the blue towel you'd grabbed when Carmy was in the shower. “Be on your best behavior just in case.”
“Yes ma'am.”
“Alright,” You draped the towel around Carmy's shoulders, adjusting it a little before picking up the scissors and a comb. “Let's see what we can do. Head down, please.”
“About earlier,” Carmy began, and you felt a knot twist in your stomach. “I..I just want to apologize, I shouldn't have just left like that.”
“It's okay,” You murmured softly, gently combing his hair and holding the ends between your fingers. “Like I said, I get it.”
“No, it's..it's complicated,” Carmy sighed. “Because..I don't want you to think that I didn't enjoy being domestic and having fun with you, because I did, and I think you're great, I really..I really like you and it just freaked me the fuck out a little.”
“Like when we were six,” You smiled softly, gently snipping his hair. “And I kissed you. You freaked out and left me alone in that treehouse. I was devastated.”
“Hey I didn't expect it,” Carm shrugged. “You didn't give me a heads up.”
“I'm giving you one now,” You grinned, lightly tapping his head with the comb. “Head up, please.”
“Why did you do it?” Carm asked, soft curiosity in his voice.”I mean, why did you..why me?”
“You weren't like the other boys in our class,” You shrugged, gently sweeping the comb through Carmy's hair. “And you weren't like Richie or your brother. You were just..Carmy. I always thought about you. I liked that you were doing your own thing. Tilt your head sideways, please..thanks.”
He stayed quiet while you cut his hair so you kept talking.
“I don't think I really had a crush on you or anything back then, I just liked you. Then as we got older I started seeing you differently but I never acted on it because I didn't think you were interested. We never really hung out much, for all I knew you were a major dick. Then,you were gone and I tried to forget you..head down, please.”
“What do you think now?”
You thought about it for a moment, holding the comb in Carmy's hair.
“I think..you've actually got really great hair.”
“That so?”
“Oh yeah,” You nodded. “I mean usually it looks like a bird should be nesting in it so anything is an improvement.”
He laughed slightly and you felt your shoulders drop a little.
“I also think,” You murmured softly, slowly closing the scissors on the ends of his hair. “Those tattoos on your hands are really doing it for me.”
“Yeah?
“Big time.”
A silence hung over you as you continued the haircut, trying to keep your hands steady.
“Just because I freaked out doesn't mean that I don't..that I haven't been thinking about you.”
“Yeah?” You mused, lightly brushing some hair off the towel.
“Big time. But..” Carmy let out a sigh, clearing his throat. “I'm really not..an expert at the whole relationship thing. I'm not even a novice, I'm like..a nightmare. I can't do the flowers and dates and meeting the parents and all that like..I know I should want all that and maybe I do but..something just stops me and I can't..I can't do it.”
You slowly walked around to stand in front of Carmy, meeting his eyes as you glanced down.
“Head up, please.”
You focused your attention on his hair, feeling the nervous energy radiating from him.
“First of all, you know my parents. So that's not relevant. Second of all..I'm not saying that I want a relationship because I don't even know if I do. But..I wouldn't mind having someone I hang out with, watching movies and talking shit and eating takeout and figuring out if we want to be more but it's okay because we're still good how we are. And I could see you being that person.”
You took a step back, tilting your head slightly.
“All done.”
“Good,” Carmy nodded, standing up and stepping closer to you, his hands reaching out to touch your face and leaning in close til you felt like you couldn't breathe. “You can check the cake.”
You let out a frustrated sigh before laughing and moving your hands to grip the towel around Carmy's shoulders.
“You're definitely a major dick.”
You pulled him in for a kiss, feeling a rush shoot through you. When you pulled back you thought your heart was on fire.
“Wow, you've really improved,” You grinned. “I'm impressed.”
“You don't know the half of it.” Carmy grinned, pulling you back in for another kiss.
He wasn't lying, as you discovered when he put you up on the counter and feasted on you til you cried.
You had wasted no time, pulling him right down onto the kitchen floor to show what you'd learned too.
The next day, when you watched your best friend cut into the cake and scream with joy as layers of pink and blue sponge were revealed, you made a silent vow to volunteer your services more often.
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wttcsms · 4 months
Note
grumpy tenured professor Naoya x new, sunshine-y associate professor reader !!
lessons in intimacy, naoya zenin ;
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pairing naoya zenin x f!reader word count 4.5k synopsis naoya zenin, phd, still has a lot to learn, and you are a surprisingly good teacher content contains fluff!!!, academia au, and they were office roomies!, naoya-centric, he bashes the arts </3
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Learning Objective One: Notice Things About Your Partner
Naoya Zenin stares at the heart-shaped cake you left on his desk and refrains from going absolutely batshit. 
He can feel the pinpricks of irritation poking his insides, making him curl his hands in annoyance. Two weeks prior, there was a staff meeting informing the business school that they would be sharing their classrooms and offices with the English professors since apparently, due to poor plumbing and a lack of funding, their shack of a school building got flooded and was therefore deemed “unsafe” and “unusable.”
Naoya distinctly remembers making a snide comment about how majoring in something as worthless as English or literature should be deemed a safety hazard and that the degree is basically unusable. Maybe this is the universe’s way of telling everyone in the school to get a grip and let the entire English department just float away into a nearby swamp. 
The business professors all agreed and considering that all of their students end up becoming wealthy alumni who donate money to ensure that their buildings don’t go under, Naoya doesn’t care about the enraged comments from the English department. 
All his rude remarks seem to ensure that he’ll be left alone, which is exactly how he likes to be. It seems that he’s the most hated business school professor and no one is willing to share a space with him. 
Because you are the youngest and newest member of the faculty, you end up being the unfortunate soul paired up with Naoya Zenin, PhD. When you first step into the office, big box filled with your printed lesson plans and desk supplies, he refuses to lend you a hand.
Instead, he sits back in his seat, staring at you with such an intense look in his eyes that you decide to look at anything but him, and he watches you struggle to maneuver around the tight space. Because of the funding, the business school offices are spacious, but to maintain some semblance of privacy, minor renovations were made. Crammed in a corner is a new desk meant for you. If he keeps staring daggers into your very soul, you’re going to make a request to have a room divider put in place so you can cower behind them and avoid his glare.
While your side of the office is small, you make it as unique to yourself as possible. There’s a Cinnamoroll plushie sitting on your desk, a cup holding glittery gel pens, and inside your desk drawers are scratch-‘n-sniff sticker sheets with colorful words of encouragement because the world has already beaten down your students enough — you might as well give them back some of their childhood enjoyment.
Naoya’s desk is vintage mahogany and rarely has anything sitting atop it unless he’s inside the office and on his laptop. Hanging on the wall behind him is his doctoral degree that is forever put on display in a massive, ostentatious frame. Naoya Zenin, PhD from Keio University. Economics, you recall him telling one of his colleagues. Because finance is the poor man’s idea of a prestigious field. 
It doesn’t take a degree to know how Dr. Zenin feels about a degree in the arts.
Upon your first awkward meeting with Naoya (where he let you nearly trip and spill all your meager belongings onto his pristine office’s floors), you immediately head home and look at your new office buddy’s RateMyProf reviews.
⅕ OVERALL QUALITY BASED ON 986 RATINGS | 0% WOULD TAKE AGAIN | 5.0 LEVEL OF DIFFICULTY 
Professor Zenin’s Top Tags
#lotsofhomework 
#getreadytoread
#lectureheavy
#skipclass?youwon’tpass
Review 1: i dropped my econ major because of him. this wasn’t even supposed to be a weeder class
Review 2: DR ZENIN IS THE WORST PROFESSOR FOR ECONOMICS. HE MIGHT BE THE WORST PROFESSOR IN THE BUSINESS SCHOOL. HE MIGHT EVEN BE THE WORST PROFESSOR IN THIS WHOLE DAMN UNIVERSITY!!!!!! DO NOT TAKE HIM! I regret not taking everyone else’s advice and going with Dr. Gojo instead 
Review 3: only redeeming quality is being hot, but he’s still an asshole
Review 4: Misogynist, doesn’t believe women can be leaders in the business world, has God awful takes that literally no one sane would agree with, teaches what HE thinks is right and refuses to acknowledge any opposing viewpoints, talks down on students, and that’s all i can say about him from the TWO DAYS i attended his class. i immediately dropped his course LOL 
Review 5: Dr. Zenin’s rigorous coursework and unforgiving grading has prepared me for graduate school, and I still believe all the courses I had with him provided me with a better foundation than my other peers in my doctoral program. However, he did make my undergrad experience a miserable one. His lectures are hard to follow at times, and he creates his exams with the intent of making it unpassable. He’s the professor that you wonder why he hasn’t been fired yet.
You search for any positive comments about him, but it appears that the students hate everything about him, to his tests, his teaching style, and his personality. 
In all honesty, it’s kind of sad. What must it be like, you wonder, to be so hated by the very students you’re meant to teach and inspire? You’re willing to give Naoya the benefit of the doubt — you know how one student’s misconception against a professor can paint a bad picture overall. Maybe Naoya is just a difficult person to understand! An undercover softie, if you will.
There’s no harm in trying to be friendly with him. After all, the two of you are going to be partners for the foreseeable future. You don’t have the energy to remain constantly on your guard around him. 
You start off with little things, like burning candles in the office to fill it with sweet, welcoming scents. You offer to let him borrow your extension cord so his charger doesn’t have to bend all awkwardly when he plugs in his laptop. You make an effort to ensure that the classroom is clean before his class enters because that’s a courteous thing to do. You notice that when he eats his lunch on campus, he’s always unwrapping a sweet treat afterwards.
You can’t be a truly bad person if you have a sweet tooth, you rationalize. 
So, you bake him little goods and leave them on his desk. When a week goes by and he doesn’t acknowledge your actions but the goods are always gone by the time lunchtime is over, you think you’re making progress. You notice that he seems stressed and annoyed every time he storms into the office, and so you start adding tiny notes of motivation alongside the goods, too.
Written on a pink sticky note that’s in the shape of a heart (probably to match the fucking miniature cake you baked), Naoya’s eye almost starts to twitch as he examines every loop and curve of the letters you personally handwritten for him.
I hope you have a great day today! Look on the bright side, you’re done with all your lectures for the week!
Naoya angrily takes a bite out of the cake as he waits for his laptop to turn on. The sugary sweetness does very little to alleviate his annoyance, but he can begrudgingly admit that the cake is good. Delicious, even. 
This makes his scowl deepen. 
How annoying, he thinks, tossing your note in the trash bin (not having the heart to crumple it up like he used to do with your previous notes). What are you, some kind of a stalker? How is it any of your business to know that Thursdays are his last days for teaching since business schools don’t believe in having class on Friday? And why do you always do that? Saying I hope? 
“I’m not going to tell you what to do, Momo,” he remembers you telling your blonde-haired student. “But I hope you consider sticking with your creative writing major. We’ll lose a very talented student if you choose to go, you know.”
Naoya had let out a little snort of amusement at this. Who the fuck cares about whether or not students drop out? If they can’t handle the coursework, clearly they’re not cut out for the real world. He finds it annoying that you practically hold their hands, coddling them, always tacking on an I hope because you don’t want to demand people to do things. So much damn consideration, he wonders how you even survive in this big city. You’re probably the type of person who apologizes when someone else gets in your way at a busy store. You probably let yourself get cut in line. You definitely give money to panhandlers who are only posing as the homeless and needy. 
Naoya wants to take joy in the fact that you are the type of person who could easily be taken advantage of, but as he finishes the cake you made for him, the idea of people purposely giving you a hard time just because you’ll take it lying down makes him feel even more irritated than before.
He takes out his frustration on his students. A first-year student emailed him asking for an extension, so Naoya tells them either they get it done by the original deadline, or he is more than willing to just give them the zero right now. In the real world, your boss and your clients will not give a single shit that you are hospitalized after being hit by a truck. Perhaps, if you used the brain inside your head and the eyes on your face, you would know better than to cross the road when a speeding truck is heading your way. 
Then, he thinks that you would probably gladly give your students an extension if they asked. You’d probably even visit them in the fucking hospital, like the saint you think you are. 
You’re so helpful to the point of your kindness being detrimental to your own wellbeing. You extend deadlines, and then have to beg and plead with the dean and bust your ass to get final grades in by the required date. All that struggle could have been avoided if you just gave the zero. You hear out your students, letting them speak their minds, and it cuts into your lecture time. Nobody is paying tuition to hear another student’s ramblings. And how long does it take you to bake him these desserts? It’s something different every day, always fresh, always seemingly made with care. 
He doesn’t even know how you know he likes sweets. Lucky guess, he tells himself. 
You see, Naoya knows that he is respected (somewhat) and feared (most definitely). He knows that he is not loved, not by his colleagues (who are all intimidated by him), not by his family (who thinks becoming a professor at a prestigious research university is dogshit when he should have been a global economist), not by his students (the university-mandated end-of-the-term class surveys are always sent to him). So to him, despite the ego he presents to the public, he cannot fathom the idea of someone noticing little things about himself. He definitely can’t imagine someone noticing and caring — it would honestly make more sense if they used private information against him. 
He doesn’t think about you noticing him, and he refuses to think about all the things he subconsciously notices about you. He can recognize you by your perfume alone; someone had passed him by in the hall, and his eyes searched for your figure, only to be greeted by a student who just happened to favor the same fragrance as you. (He had snapped at the poor girl, telling her to walk faster or get out of the way.) He’s certain he knows the fucking HTML color code for the specific shade of lipgloss you’re always constantly applying in the office. One time, against his better judgment, he saves the place you’re at in your book. You had fallen asleep at your desk, your finger pressed on the page you were struggling to read, and then your head banged on the desk, hand slipping away. He doesn’t know why he didn’t leave you alone in the office; he had no business staying that late since none of his students were brave enough to turn in any assignments to be graded. There was an on-campus police alert the day before, though. Naoya rationalizes that he just didn’t want any criminals or deviants breaking into his office and destroying it. That’s all.
He actively avoids any thought of you, not realizing the irony of how, in his vehement attempts to ignore your existence, he is very much acknowledging you.
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Learning Objective Two: Have Meaningful Conversations With Your Partner
“Why do you do that?” Naoya snaps, breaking the silence in the office. 
Naoya is the type of person who does not simply say things — he snaps, he sneers, he smirks. And he has the exact tonation, voice, manner of speaking, of someone who grew up and was never told to shut the fuck up. With his current position in life, it seems like no one ever will.
“Do what?” You look up from the papers you’re grading, staring at him all doe-eyed and genuinely confused that Naoya discovers the unfortunate fact that he does, actually, possess a heart. An annoying one that gets all tight in his chest and starts beating against his rib cage every time you look at him. He’d charge you with a hospital bill from a top of the line cardiologist, but he knows you get paid like shit in comparison to him. Also, because he doesn’t like the idea of women spending money on his behalf. 
“Give out pity grades.” 
It’s like you’ll do anything in your power to not fail a student. You’re just pulling out participation points straight from your ass! And the comments — don’t get him started on the amount of comments you waste time leaving on your students’ papers. There’s a reason why his grades always get entered before deadlines. He’s efficient. 
“And ruthless.” You tell him, after hearing him tell you all about his “efficiency.” “We’re here to help cultivate their minds. Get them to think. College shouldn’t be about getting grades based on your professor’s mood.” 
Was that somehow an attack on him? He should be annoyed. Instead, he finds this side of you less annoying. 
“I’m always in the same mood every time I grade.” 
“Oh, yeah? And what’s that, vindictive?” You’re teasing him, and he wouldn’t let just anyone get away with such a comment. He’s bored, he tells himself. That’s why he’s entertaining this. Unlike someone, he doesn’t have anything left to grade.
“Nah. Irritated. They’re all idiots.” 
You frown. “No student is an idiot.” 
He gives you a look. “You teach English.”
“Intro to Classic Lit.” You correct him. 
“Right.” He says this slowly. “Idiots.”
“Maybe yours, but definitely not mine.”
“Let's compare our students’ majors and potential earnings after graduation.” 
Now it’s your turn to give him a look. “There’s nothing wrong with pursuing your passions.”
“Great. Do you tell them that when the cashier tells them their card declined? Or, does the passion end up paying the total? Are grocery stores accepting passion as a form of payment now?”
“Don’t be as mean as people say you are.” 
His signature smug air of superiority momentarily dissipates at this statement. It’s not often that someone can get Naoya to shut up. To be bested by someone who grades using pink gel pens is so humbling, the only thing keeping him on his pedestal is the fact that he knows he’s the youngest tenured professor in this whole entire university and an acclaimed researcher (he always makes the list for top five most cited economic researchers). You’re fresh out of a doctoral program, and even being tenure-track would be a pipe dream for you. 
“There’s nothing mean about being honest.” 
“You can be honest without being mean.”
“It’s the truth. Students are idiots.” He shrugs, because what the fuck is he supposed to do about it?
“Then why become a professor?”
“Sweetheart, professors that work here are researchers first, teachers… no, not second. Maybe third? If they’re that dedicated to shaping young minds, or whatever fantasy you’ve got going on.” 
“Well, I believe that the students are here to learn. And before you call them stupid again, that’s the great part about learning. You don’t have to be smart to do it.”
Growing up, Naoya had to be a lot of things, smart being one of them. No one in his household was ever capable of producing an ounce of empathy, and considering all the people he’s been surrounded by since his prep school, university, and internship days have all been raised in similar environments. The world is unforgiving. Naoya lives by the ever-so-poetic motto of “sucks to suck.” 
He will go home and lay in bed and stare at the crown molding on his ceiling, and he will recall your sunny disposition. He wants to shame and berate you for being so damn optimistic, for believing in those words, and he will think to himself wouldn’t it be nice for it to be true? 
Instead, right now, all he does is huff. The truth is, Naoya is well aware that his students aren’t stupid, even if he tells them that they are every time they’re in class and every time they dare to come to his office hours to debate their grades. They aren’t stupid in the booksmart sense, but they are very dumb when it comes to the real world, and Naoya considers it a ruthless kind of mercy that he exacts on them. They’re idiots because they have all the potential in the world and would rather waste their time on stupid shit and procrastinate on their assignments instead of putting forth any real effort. 
If they tried, he would give them an A. 
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Learning Objective Three: Be Specific and Sincere With Your Praise
You’re crying.
In his head, Naoya tries to force himself to roll his eyes but finds his body unwilling to comply with the demands of his mind. He’s annoyed, but the irritation isn’t directed at you.
It’s at the man sitting across from you. Dr. Kimura got his PhD from Cambridge and thinks he’s hot shit, but out of pure curiosity, Naoya found his dissertation online and still uses it as free melatonin. Two paragraphs in knocks him out faster than a whole bottle of sleeping pills.
Dr. Kimura asks him to leave, into which Naoya reminds him that this is technically his office, and that Dr. Kimura is an intruder. Too much time spent with you in such a confined space has some of your little lessons rubbing off on him. Words are so important to you. Naoya decides that visitor and guest are too kind, too euphemistic, for Dr. Kimura. Call it like it is. 
Kimura’s business for being here is to give you your first ever teaching evaluation. It’s actually just a poorly disguised attempt at trying to lowball professors’ salaries, but this is the type of schtick that only works on pushovers like you. Naoya leans back in his desk chair, arms crossed, and it’s obvious that he is going to be listening in on the whole entire ordeal. You’re embarrassed to be put on display like this, not knowing that he isn’t here to scrutinize you (for once), but rather he’s your backup. 
Before things take a turn for the worse, you’re actually all smiles and sunshines and rainbows. 
Stop smiling at him, Naoya thinks. He hates your smile. Hates it the most when it’s directed towards anyone but him.
Kimura begins with a compliment. That’s how all the professors in the arts are taught. Compliment sandwich! Praise, constructive criticism, more praise! What a fucking joke. Naoya thinks his way of handling things is much more efficient. Talk about all the stuff they need improvement on, and whatever isn’t corrected clearly is okay. Don’t you people know how to read in between the lines? Context clues ring any bells? Fuck, what did you all go to school for?
Disaster strikes, just as Naoya predicts. 
“Listen, we know that this is your first year of teaching, and you’re still getting settled into your role of professor and not student, but clearly there’s some leniency when it comes to your grading…” 
Kimura’s listing all sorts of shit. Grade inflation is what he claims one second, next he’s claiming you have subjective grading criteria. No other Intro to Classic Literature course has a similar class average to yours. 
Kimura shakes his head, like he’s disappointed in you. Another tactic that would only work on someone as sweet as you. 
“If this continues to be an issue, we may have to reconsider renewing your contract.”
And there are those waterworks Naoya is expecting. 
The thing is, Naoya knows a bully when he sees one. Naoya knows all about being cruel just for the sake of being cruel. As cold, shriveled up, and worthless as it seems, Naoya does have a heart. 
“That’s bullshit.” He inserts himself into the conversation. You’re staring down at your lap, twiddling with your fingers. Kimura turns to look at him.
“This is a private matter—”
“If it was private, you would have done it in your own office instead of mine.” 
“This is a matter that concerns the English department, not yours, Dr. Zenin.” 
He’s right. And yet—
“Have you even read any of her students’ papers?” 
—Naoya is your backup. 
“How is this relevant?” 
“Read their papers. Read their first one versus their most recent one. Hell, read every single essay a student has turned in over the course. I guarantee you they deserve the marks she’s given them.” 
“Their papers are filled with corrections and questions, and yet, she gives them an A.” Kimura knows all about Naoya’s reputation. He’s infamous. He’s the reason why everyone’s scared of majoring in economics. Naoya Zenin is the toughest grader there is.
“I’ve seen the mental state of your department’s students. She’s doing them a favor by not crushing them.” 
“You’re saying they deserve those grades?”
“She lets them redo all their papers within a reasonable period of time and grades based on the overall improvement.” Naoya shrugs, like it’s just that simple. “I don’t see an issue.”
“She’s manipulating grades.”
“She’s giving them a second chance. I personally find that to be admirable.” Naoya is not lying. This is what makes you look up. “And she cares. I think she’s the only one of your faculty who gives a damn about whether her students are learning or not.” 
Naoya doesn’t hate a lot of things because he doesn’t like giving certain things so much special attention, but he does dislike insincere people. People like Kimura are the worst because they hide behind fake niceties and table manners, but if you peel off their skin, they’re secretly lizards in disguise. At least in Naoya’s case, no one ever has the luxury of being shocked when he says something very mean and unpleasant because he will never filter himself or put on a mask that gives off the vibe that he practices civility. 
As a matter of fact, Naoya has a nasty, serpent-like grin on his face as he locks in on Kimura, caging him in. 
“After all, isn't that the point of becoming a professor, Dr. Kimura?”
Gotcha, you slimy bastard.
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Learning Objective Four: Be Vulnerable, Put Yourself Out There
“Would you say I’m an asshole?” Naoya brings this up as he helps you pack up your belongings. He claims that it’s because he can’t wait to have his office all to himself again, but really, he’s starting to realize that lending a helping hand every once in a while can’t hurt. He hisses when a sharp edge from one of the many stacks of paper you possess cuts his finger. 
That’s the last time he’ll ever help someone, he thinks bitterly.
“Not to your face.” You reply back, giving him a grin. He wants to take your smile and store it in a moving box and then keep that box underneath his desk and have it be one of his most prized possessions. 
“Hm.” Then he tells you, “A student called me that.”
“To your face?” You look equal parts shocked, amused, and delighted. It’s a good look. 
“No. RateMyProfessor.” 
“Oh, I think I saw that one. They called you hot, right?” You’re busy packing up your sticker sheets and binders. Naoya wonders if he’s reading too hard into what you’re telling him.
“You’ve seen my reviews?” 
“Of course I did. I looked you up on the Internet the day we became office roomies.” You throw this information out so nonchalantly that Naoya almost feels like he’s the weird one to have a reaction from it. 
“You looked me up on the Internet?” 
“Duh. Naoya, we live in a world where AI is writing essays for students. Of course, I would look you up online.” 
“But why?” He presses you, latches on to the idea that there is a world where someone wants to look him up online and it’s not to find his home address so they can get revenge on him failing them. 
“Because I wanted to know more about you, silly.” 
It would be nice to be known. It’s already nice to have someone who wants to get to know you. Naoya Zenin does not settle in life, but he thinks he could settle for this and be content for the rest of his days.
Of course you would. He would say this, all snarky and egotistical, but he knows better. He won’t have an excuse to see your four times a week, won’t be cooped up in this office with you late in the night, won’t get to smell the remnants of your perfume when he’s up at the podium, lecturing his class. But there’s a chance that he could see you in different settings, too. Getting coffee together in between classes. Sitting next to each other during university-wide faculty meetings. Taking you out to dinner, because he’s reviewed your contract, and he’s not sure how you’re surviving financially. 
“I would like that.” The words come out rushed, all jumbled and smushed together. He’s a grown man. He doesn’t blush. This is what he tells himself when he feels heat rise to his cheeks. “I would like for you to get to know me. And to learn more about you, too.” He swallows. Hard. “I sound stupid, I meant to—”
“It’s okay, Dr. Zenin.” You have the prettiest smile in the world. His dissertation should have been on that. “The fun part about learning is that you can still do it, even when you’re being stupid.” 
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