#I can’t even excuse him for his age honestly because that was only half the issue | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup · 10 months

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don't wait for tumblr to give u more tags. go off about tony and steve and zola pls i am humbly requesting

As a part of my ongoing war on my ask box this is a very old post regarding a tumblr tag essay i made forever ago. i half answered this ask when it came in and then forgot to finish. without further ado:

Anon is talking about this post about Steve and Tony’s relationship. I HIGHLY recommend the original post it's great but i copied the original tags essay below since it's been so long since the ask arrived.

#I feel like anyone who writes Tony stark for marvel should have to go watch bojack horseman first as like a mandatory assignment#because that show understood the premise of Tony stark better than any MCU writer ever has and it wasn’t even writing for tony stark#in sum bojack horseman follows the titular bojack who is a washed up 90s sitcom television star#bojack himself is extremely self destructive and the show follows him as his selfish and egotistical tendencies erode at his relationships#However bojack himself is an extremely sympathetic character. his harmful acts are all tied very directly to the trauma of his life#he’s a survivor of generational abuse whose own substance abuse problems stem from the fact that he was in such a neglectful environment#that he had started drinking at an INCREDIBLY young age got himself sober only to relapse due to a spiked drink after fame

#this sympathic is increased by the fact that he does geninuinely love and care for his friends and often goes to extreme lengths to show it#but what the show understands that MCU writers dont is that his tragic past doesn’t excuse the harm or pain he causes and the show goes to#LABORIOUS extents to emphasize the consequences and suffering his actions cause in his attempt towards making amends#it is FASINCATING to me that MCU just fails to grasp this because it’s really the core of Tony’s character. his story is one of redemption#and regret. but what it never seemed to get is that requires recognition of wrongs and change and his relationship with steve is a prime ex.#when they meet tony is 40+ and Steve is 23-25. steve has been awake from world war 2 for less than 2 weeks everyone he loves is dead and hes#visibly haunted by his time in the ice. his ptsd flashbacks to crashing the plane is how his character is introduced. Tony spends the time

#calling him ‘capsicle’ and talking about how much he can’t stand steve. the narrative plays it off as a gaff of little consequence but#practically speaking that’s INSANE. like can you imagine you’re a traumatized war vet who got out of a coma 2 months ago and woke up to#discover everyone you ever loved is dead and this stranger twice your age at your new work nicknames you coma boy and hates your guts bc of#his daddy issues? like Tony in avengers is borderline cruel but the narrative and the fandom never acknowledge it. it’s like removing the#laugh track on a scene from one of those old sitcoms and realizing how mean it is. and while we can fully acknowledge that Howard hurt Tony#that doesn’t make it Steve’s fault and doesn’t give Tony the license to take it out on him. like at the end of the day your healing is your#responsibility and the MCU fails to grasp that with Tony. honestly it does a disservice to the depth of his character b/c Tony should have#already grown past this by the time of Avengers. he had already gone through iron man 2 and grappled somewhat with his relationship w howard#while that doesn’t mean he’s healed yet it does mean that his character needs to learn to grow past it or he risks stagnation. mcu just#happily embraced stagnation and it made the character worse for it. Theres a scene in the comics where Tony is the first to reach out to#Steve post ice. he takes him to the air&space museum and welcomes him to the future. THATS the growth we want. Bc fundamentally even if we

#sympathize for Tony’s abuse by Howard lashing out at someone who was functionally dead at the time of ur dads mistakes is a very juvenile#mindset. /growth/ is deciding to be better than the person who hurt you and the MCUs obsession with blaming Steve for howard cut that off#CW would have been SO MUCH MORE COMPELLING if Tony had formed a relationship with Steve bc Steve would be torn between past and present but#instead Tony is saying how much he hated Steve during the fucking movie and Steve’s taking it with grace. like you’re 50 man you gotta work#past this at some point. out of tags but I have Opinions about Tony and actually zola too but we won’t get there give me more tags tumblr

Fundamentally, my issue with Tony and how he's written for the MCU is that he has the potential for one of greatest redemption arcs ever and the writers are fucking allergic to giving it to him, and his dynamic with Steve is a a prime example of it. How poorly Steve's relationship with Tony was mishandled is a pretty perfect case study as to how Tony as a character was mishandled as a whole.

As stated in the Tumblr Tags Essay above, by the time Steve came on the scene, Tony should have already grown past his hate for Steve. To be clear, that is not saying he should have gotten over Howard or any harm that he suffered as a result of his. Howard was his parent who was, to some degree, at least emotionally neglectful, if not abusive. Healing and learning helping coping mechanisms does not demand you forgive your abuser.

But Steve was never his abuser. He's a 20-something year old guy who has been trapped in a block of ice for Tony's entire life and who woke up two weeks ago to find out that everyone he ever loved is dead or suffering from alzheimer's and that his sacrifice was for nothing because he was just told the thing he drove a fucking plane into the fucking arctic over is Back Again Because We Learned Nothing.

And the thing is that the realization that "This man can hold literally no complicity in my abuser because he was frozen in the Arctic Circle the entire time" requires a level of emotional maturity you generally achieve at the age of thirteen or so. Tony is fucking fifty. Mentally, he's over twice Steve's age. At absolute best, the way Tony treats Steve from the outset is immature and more accurately it's downright cruel. Voluntarily killing himself by driving a plane into ice only to wake up and discover that he has lost everyone he ever loved is undoubtedly one of the most traumatic things that has ever happened to steve, and he just woke up from it. He is two weeks out from this. He's actively having flashbacks of what happened right before Tony starts cracking jokes about it. It'd be like if Steve walked up to Tony right after he got back from Afghanistan and called him Waterboarding Boy and everyone treated it like it was a cutesy character trait.

That's one of the most egregious parts of how Tony's character is written--things that are objectively things that need to be addressed in his character arc area treated like acceptable and borderline justified quirks in his personality. Tony's relationship with his father is one of the cornerstones of his backstory and who he became. While he doesn't have to forgive his father on the road to recovery, he does have to realize when he's using it as an excuse to hurt others and stop it.

That's also something he never does, and one of the reasons why i think that the writers for him need to watch Bojack horseman. In the same movie he's claiming to that he was Steve's friend, he's still saying to his face how much he fucking hated him over things that happened when Steve was supposed to have martyred himself to save the world.

There's multiple parts of Tony's character that could have formed the basis of an amazing character arc if he grew and improved from them, but the narrative refused to even recognize them as problems, let alone have him overcome them, and his relationship with Steve is a perfect example of it. The writer's refusal to recognize that brings down the quality of his entire arc and cheapens him as a character.

If Tony had been allowed to recognize that Steve was not to blame for his father, accepted it, and given a man half his age who just lost everything a lifeline, that would have shown an amazing amount of growth. Instead, they left him as immature and cruel. It's a shame and an insult to the potential of his character, and it's a mistake that they repeat again and again. Tony was supposed to be completely against developing weapons for others, but he canonically helped build a major part of Project Insight. Tony's entire stance in Civil War was meant to show that he had accepted that he made mistakes and that he needed to be held accountable for his actions, but then he went and unilaterally built EDITH, whose existence violates multiple international treaties including the Accords and had so few safety precautions that a teenaged boy was able to accidentally call out a missile strike on his teenaged classmate. He's in a movie where he's driven by his guilt for causing the death of someone's college-aged son, and in that same movie he blackmails a high-school-aged boy to join in on a fight he knows nothing about, that goes directly against his interests, and could get him killed even if he was certain that Team Cap wouldn't use lethal force. Rhodey got paralyzed from the waist down from friendly fire. Tony had a moment in the same fight where he had reason to fear that Peter had been injured if not killed.

Ultimately, Tony's entire character is built on a foundation of repentance and growth. That's why he has so much potential and why he's so compelling. The fact that his writers were unable to recognize when he even needed to repent, let alone allow him to grow, was honestly insulting to what he could have been.

Zola:

The reference to Zola is actually more of a response to fandom’s response to Zola as a whole than the actual specific person who made the comment.

Overall, the majority of fandom response that I've seen just seemed to be sort of besides the point? The thing about Armin Zola working for SHIELD is that I personally have only seen discussion about this in context of talking about how Peggy and Howard are Bad or talking about how steve would feel betrayed when he discovered it. To be honest most of the discourse I’ve seen has just been about hating Peggy Carter and using this as a sledgehammer in that discussion.

It’s not that I disagree with that reading of it—like, I do think Steve felt betrayed by the realization that Zola was recruited in the end, and I think it’s bad to have recruited literal Nazis—but I do think that fandom elevated the most tangential point of it to the detriment of its entire narrative purpose. I've only ever personally seen it used in character discourse and shipping wars--which like, anyone can draw on any plot point they so choose while participating in fandom. But Zola's recruitment was the thematic core of Winter Soldier, and it always seemed kinda weird to me that it was treated as a personal defect in Howard and Peggy when it was the entire argument of the movie and one of the best social commentaries that the MCU ever made.

Zola gives what I think is one of the better MCU villain speeches in the bunker about how Hydra recovered after the war. He states that they realized that taking the freedom of the world by force only galvanised people against them. It led to their own downfall. But he explains that Hydra realized that the people of the world would freely give away their own rights and freedoms if you made them comfortable. If you say you’re doing it for their own safety and comfort, then they’ll effectively look the other way while Hydra seizes control of the world. And that entire monologue is bolstered by the fact that that is exactly what happened in Zola’s case.

Zola was brought into SHIELD as a part of operation paperclip. Operation Paperclip was a post-war initiative by the United States government to recruit key Nazi scientists into United States scientific development. This entire initiative was brought about in response to the Cold War arm’s race and it was justified on the basis of dire national security need. Both America and the Soviet Union were EXTREMELY CONCERNED about losing the cold war. As a result, they were willing to take pretty much any strategic advantage they could, including After, President Truman, who gave the final go-ahead for the initiative, said that "this had to be done and was done."

Even after it became public knowledge, it was defended as more of a necessary evil and the cost of the practicalities of governance than a world power welcoming war criminals with open arms. Multiple participants have been linked to human experimentation, slave labor factories, etc, though none were ever formally found guilty of anything--which may be because the US aggressively whitewashed their pasts and then went so far as to help relocate one of the members of the initiative to Argentina.

This was, again, all a part of the Cold War arms race with the USSR--who had an identical program going at the same time, Operation Osoaviakhim.

En arguendo, let's just assume that all of this was done with the best possible intentions and execution. The nominal rationale was the Cold War. While analyzing the Red Scare and the entire Cold War period would take way too long, I think a solid premise we can agree on is that nuclear war is bad. It would have been disastrous for anyone alive if the Cold War had escalated, and recruiting top scientists from the Nazi regime 1) kept the USSR from doing it instead, which they were actively doing, and 2) helped prevent strategic advantage in one country or another that may have led to an escalation. Now, I'm not a historian, and all of these premises can naturally be debated, but these were the like, best faith premises that world leaders had at the time. If you want a nuclear deterrent, you need the biggest stick.

The thing is that, if you assume these premises as genuine for the sake of the argument, the absolute best this leaves you with is doing a very bad thing for a very important government purpose. You're supposedly preventing nuclear war, but you're doing so at the cost of justice for all the people who suffered at the hands of these people, and the risk of future harm that they may cause.

Which, thematically, is the core of the Winter Soldier.

I've usually seen Zola's recruitment discussed in terms of Peggy or Howard making the decision to let him in, when in reality, they probably didn't make the call themselves so much as become complicit in it later. Zola was captured and recruited right at the end of CA:FA (he later clocks this at 1945) but Peggy and Howard didn't even have an organization at that point, let alone the power to recruit a head Nazi scientist. This was two decades before SHIELD was ever founded, and if we take the Agent Carter series as binding canon, at the time of Zola's transition into American government would, Peggy had so little sway that she couldn't even get anyone to listen to her, let alone recruit a nazi scientist, and Howard was potentially on the run and definitely not involved in any formal governmental decision making. Even if you assume that they were somehow in charge of a government agency at the time of Zola's recruitment, the actual recruitment and function of Operation Paperclip was conducted by independent agencies (Joint Intelligence Objectives Agency and the Counterintelligence Corps) that Peggy and Howard weren't a part of, and the person who made the call for Operation Paperclip itself was The Literal President Of The United States. Whatever way you cut it, Peggy and Howard probably had nothing to do with Zola's initial recruitment--what most likely happened was that two decades passed (the time between Zola's recruitment and SHIELD's founding) and when resources were being allocated some big-shot in the overseeing body was like Yeah You Do Weird Stuff? We Got A Guy Who's Been Doing Weird Stuff For Us For Like Twenty Years and then when Peggy and Howard saw him they were like Oh Its This Motherfucker.

To be clear, this is not at all to absolve howard and peggy for working with a guy they knew did literal human experimentation because he did it on one of their best friends. But this is to more clearly reframe it from Decision They Personally Made to The Ways Being At A Certain Level Of Government Makes You Complicit With Horrible Things, which perfectly encapsulates the heart of the movie.

At the open of the movie, Steve is visibly on a fucking ledge with SHIELD. Fuck, Fury and Nat spend most of the opening trying to keep him from flying the coop. And it's because Steve for the very first time has to grapple with the consequences of being an active participant in a governmental body.

Straight up--Steve spent the entire war going AWOL. His entire military career was spent doing what he wanted and flipping his superior officers the bird. The man was a terrible fucking soldier but by the time anyone figured it out they had already given him a comic book and the Medal of Honor and the man could bench press a tank it was simply too late. Then, he got encased in ice for 70 years, woke up, had two weeks of fun future integration activities like Not Getting Therapy For His Problems and Looking At Pictures Of His Dead Friends, got tapped in because they fucked up with the exact thing he lost everything to stop, immediately went AWOL again, almost died again, went on a roadtrip of self discovery, and at some point between then and CAWS started working as one of the main STRIKE members of SHIELD. This is likely his first time having to ever deal with the realities of being a hand of the government.

One of the most insidious things about high-level government work is there's rarely some Main Guy sitting behind a desk signing Evil Decrees and responsible for everything. Power is allocated and things get messy very quickly.

Take Ghost for example. One of SHIELD'S Main Guys falls out with another Guy, smears his name, which makes the Ex-Guy so desperate that he takes unnecessary risks in his experiments that predictably blow up in his face and leads to his young daughter having a debilitating power that results in her uncontrollably phasing through objects. Another Guy tries to do the right thing and help her, but Other Main Guys think "This kid would make a GREAT assassin" and leverage a cure for her debilitating health condition into turning her into a forced operative. This health condition starts to kill her, but the Main Guys were so happy with their new forced assassin that they never looked for a cure to begin with and was going to use her until she died. She goes rather reasonably goes AWOL, and in her attempts to cure herself, she's willing to do just about anything to get cured, and including contemplating kidnapping Scott's daughter as an option.

Steve obviously wasn't called in to help with that (he was AWOL himself at that point) but assume he was--he would only get pulled into this mess at the very end when all the damage is done and there's a highly unstable assassin kidnapping little girls. SHIELD was at fault for every horrible thing that happened to this person. He has a strong sense of justice, and he'd likely to be furious to find out that SHIELD took an orphanged child and abused their incredibly painful and terminal medical condition, which was indirectly caused by them, in order to force them into becoming a highly skilled operative.

But there isn't just one person that he'd be able to find and blame for what happened with this--culpability was stretched out over Multiple Main Guys who made bad decisions, a lot of Lower Guys who built the suit, trained her, handled her in the field, and experimented on her to learn her limits, many of whom likely didn't even work for the organization any more.

Who do you go after for that? The Main Guy who smeared her dad? But he didn't have anything to do with the assassin business or the actual accident. The Main Guys who made the calls for the assassination thing? Better candidates, but is it that simple? What about the guys who just get orders every day and have no decision making authority, who were handed a little girl who was vulnerable and in pain and told to train her to kill? What about the ones making a child-sized tactical suit with no details about what was going on but who had reason enough to suspect it wasn't all good? They were just following orders, but so were Nazis working the camps.

How do you go after people for that? Fire them? It's been decades. Most are probably retired. And that's a pretty lame punishment for what they did. He doesn't make the calls for legal action, they definitely have qualified immunity for their decisions, and there's a whole host of problems with proving anything.

But, on the flip side, what does he do about Ghost? what happened to her is terrible, but if she had kidnapped Cassie Lang, he couldn't exactly sit on his hands and let it happen no matter the justification. There's a very good chance he has to stop her and become another link in a chain of what's been a lifetime of abuse. Things get messy when you're just a cog in the machine of a sprawling agency that has a lot of power to abuse.

While we don't know what Steve's been doing while he worked for SHIELD, we do know that it pissed him off to high heavens. The very first thing we see him doing for SHIELD is recapturing the off-course Lemurian Star from pirates, and he is the exact opposite of a dutiful soldier during it. He doesn't just salute and follow his orders without question--one of the first lines of his mouth is calling them out for lying about the ship being in those waters because it was off-course. He's like "Oh, so it's not off course, it's trespassing" to which Nat says "I'm sure they had a good reason" and Steve replies "I'm getting a little tired of being Fury's janitor."

He's saving the hostages, and then all of a sudden he finds Natasha in the control room downloading the drive and realizes that this was about SHIELD's data to begin with but no one clued him in on that fact. He's pissed because the hostages could have died, which is a fact he immediately goes after Fury about.

There is so much character jammed into those few minutes of screen time. This is visibly an old argument--at one point, Fury says to him "It's damn near getting past time for you to get with the program, Cap" to which Steve tells him not to hold his breath. Steve doesn't like or approve of a lot of SHIELD's actions, but he's called in after all the bad things they did went to shit. Like, what's he going to do--say, sorry, the Lemurian Star was obviously Up To Some Shit that I don't want to be a part of, RIP to the hostages but I'm just going to let them get shot in the head? He's the janitor and he's sick of getting called into SHIELD fucking something up through their own immoral actions and calling him to pull their ass out of the fire. He spends the entire first half of the movie on the verge of flying the coop entirely, and Nat and Fury visibly know it and are trying to get him off the ledge in every interaction they have on screen with him--which directly contributes to the fact that Steve doesn't trust either of them for the first half of the movie.

It also is likely the motivator behind why he does ultimately trust Sam. Steve spends the first half of the movie getting Managed. He's increasingly pissed and distrustful of SHIELD and its agents, and he's got good reason to be--Nat and Fury hide things from him and keep trying to persuade him to stick with the program (to be clear Nat's (and to a somewhat lesser extent Fury's) own actions and whether any culpability for things like project insight could possibly be imputed to her has to be analyzed under an entirely different lens due to the difference in her personal history and character type, but this is already way too long to tackle that here. this isn't actually meant to assign blame to her, but more to analyze the likely results on steve). Fury takes him for a tour of his Fascist Death Machine and tells him that's what the world needs. The neighbor he was growing increasingly intimate with was a SHIELD agent who lied to him about her name and the fact that she was spying on him. At the end of the day, the majority of the of the early movie is spent with his desires and principles are treated as secondary and unwanted complications to the fact that they really need him to keep throwing that shield on SHIELD's behalf (whether this is actually what nat and fury specifically are trying to do is, again, a separate analysis we don't have time for, this is just to go to how it likely affects and appears to Steve).

Sam, meanwhile, is beautiful and charming is the only one who openly expresses a genuine concern for Steve as a person and not steve as a solider. Sam spends the entire first half of the movie reaching out to someone in a position he's been in himself and trying to get him help. his entire first meeting with Steve is defined by him trying to help a fellow Vet recover from war. he tries to gauge where Steve's at with the future, invites him to the VA, and packages it in a easily-seen-through excuse that gives them both plausible deniability--Steve can come by and get the help he needs not as Captain America The Man The Myth The Legend Who Is Really Fucking Struggling, but as Steve the guy helping Sam impress the girl at the front desk.

When he comes to the VA, Sam has the direct opposite response that everyone else in the movie has to Steve questioning his place in SHIELD and in government work--he's like "Quit. Quit now. Be free and beautiful like me. become an ultimate fighter or whatever the fuck you want." He doesn't give two shits about what the world will do without Captain America keeping it safe--he just cares about what Steve needs.

This all goes to a greater analysis about how Sam is beautiful and charming the perfect parallel to Steve, the only one who could possibly have taken up his shield, and actually wrong in that line he says about how he does what Steve does but slower because he consistently decides to do the right thing before Steve is another analysis that would go too far off the point to get into. The point being is that Sam exists in the narrative as the direct opposite and alternative to the reality fury and nat offers Steve. Steve spends the beginning of the movie with Nat and Fury seemingly sacrificing the means for the end, but there's Sam, beautiful and charming someone who made the same decision he's now faced with, being like "fuck it. sometimes you have to walk."

Steve's entire struggle about his position with SHIELD reaches its climax when he first finds out the truth of Project Insight.

For the avoidance of any doubt, SHIELD secretly being infiltrated by HYDRA has no effect on how wrong Project Insight was from the start--it just emphasized how horrifically wrong it could go. But "Space Super Death Weapon That Can Immediately Kill Dangers To National Security" is a bad idea no matter who is in charge of it. First off, Steve is right--punishment follows the crime. No government has a crystal fucking ball and anyone who justifies things on the basis of "taking out threats ahead of time" is talking out their ass. to be clear, i'm not saying you need to wait for someone to be on a plane and flying at the twin towers to stop a terrorist attack--in law, we have a designated level of "closeness" that lets us say "yeah you were totally actually doing what we don't want you doing" at which point you can charge them with attempt, and often a lot of the earlier steps leading up to the Big Harmful Thing are actual crimes you can intervene with.

Project Insight was the flagship of of a "quantum surge in threat analysis." It did exactly what it was designed to do: it took out threats before they became threats. The only difference between SHIELD being at the helm and HYDRA is who gets defined as a threat. HYDRA would have defined that as anyone from a high school valedictorian in Iowa to Stephen Strange, but it's not any better if SHIELD's defining that as some random kid in Afghanistan who shows whatever traits show a risk for one day becoming a combatant.

And yet, steve's the only one in the movie who says this. We don't actually know how much Nat knows about Project insight itself, but Fury is fully aware and a participant in it, and Tony Stark apparently took one look at the thing and said "your engines are shit. i'll improve them." Steve takes one look at them and calls it fascist bullshit.

At the end of the day, you can never justify shit like this under the assumption that the people controlling it will use it for the best, because you cannot trust the people controlling it. Yeah, Project Insight was probably pitched with being used against the worst threats. Dangers to public safety, terrorists, that kind of thing. Do you want to know who else was considered a danger to public safety? MLK, who the FBI fucking murdered. The people who define threats to national security are the ones who have the same incentive to maintain the status quo in an unjust world. Even if we assume Project Insight was made to stop the next 9/11, we also have to assume that at least some of the strikes it would have carried out under not-HYDRA control would have been for the wrong reasons.

What the fuck does all of this this have to do with Zola?

Operation Paperclip and Peggy and Howard's decisions within it directly mirrors Project Insight and Fury's decisions within it, directly mirrors Steve's journey and central conflict over the course of the film, and directly contrasts with the alternative Sam poses within it.

CA:WS at its thematic core, says that initiatives that sacrifice justice for claims of national security and public safety are exactly what robs us of our rights and freedoms and ultimately endangers us all. It's not even subtle--Zola says it out loud in his evil villain speech. but operating at a high level in a government agency puts you in a position where you're meant to make that decision again and again, even if we assume you have the best of intentions.

Peggy and Howard were people who believed that they had to make the hard decisions to save the world. They were handed a decision where perception of culpability was obscured by how distributed out the blame was, and the direct public benefit to national security was posed to be overwhelmingly good. It leads to SHIELD's infiltration. Project Insight went through on the exact same reasoning. Fury, Maria Hill, possibly Nat, and Tony (off-screen) all do the exact same thing and justify the means by the end, and it leads to the helicarriers being made.

Steve spends the movie being told, explicitly, to "get with the program" and start making the same decisions. His central conflict is being someone on the inside of this club, being told that he needs to start understand what keeping the world safe demands, and his journey leads to him refusing to do it. The climax of the movie is a character so minor that we never learn his name refusing to launch the helicarriers with a gun pointed at his head, even though the complicity he carried in it would have been just as attenuated as Steve's was as SHIELD's janitor. And all throughout it, there's Sam, someone who left the military explicitly because he couldn't follow the rules he was being given anymore.

Peggy and Howard's decision to go along with Zola in Operation Paperclip is a direct parallel of the decisions Fury made with Project Insight and the decisions Steve ultimately refuses to make himself. Making Peggy and Howard complicit in what let in Arnim Zola encapsulates the entire core argument of CA:WS and it's so weird to me that I've only ever seen it discussed in shipping wars and discourse as to whether a Character Is Bad.

Peggy and Howard, ultimately, were members of a governmental task force who made the Hard Decisions for The Public Good. As an inherent part of that role, they did bad things. Unjust things. They undoubtedly saved the world multiple times over as a part of their tenure as the head of SHIELD, but it would be absolute naivety to assume that anyone in that position didn't become complicit in terrible fucking things. It's the direct product of their positions in the government, and it's exactly what leads to Steve's position in Civil War. it is absolutely bonkers to me how people watched Winter Solider and then reacted to Steve's opposition to the Accords like Local Imperialist Military Boy Refuses To Listen To Anyone Else. Steve just had a masterclass in how people in the government make decisions that sacrifice justice up to and including people he once trusted with his life. Of course he didn't fucking trust General Human Experimentation And I Consider Bruce Banner The Property Of The United States Military with his every action as Captain America. He had just learned that he couldn't even trust Peggy and Howard with it.

#this became very long #and you know what #if i want to say the same thing in the tags of some unsuspecting person's post then that's my right #more tags when #more tags NOW

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weirdo09 · 10 months

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ok so i just got back from seeing atsv and just oh my fucking god.

like first of all THE ENDING?! LIKE HOW OUT OF ALL THE (honestly small amount of stuff) SPOILED FOR ME HOW DID NO ONE TELL ME THERE WAS GONNA BE A TBC AT THE END?! I CANT WAIT HOWEVER MANY YEARS ITLL BE TO SEE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT LIKE-

and like half the stuff in this film felt like a maaaaassssssiiivvveeeee metaphor for coming out like the “promise u won’t love me any less” (or whatever see said i’m bad at remembering exact quotes) and the fact that during Gwen’s speech to her dad EVERYTHING TURNED FUCKING PINK BLUE AND WHITE like cmon they aren’t even being subtle abt it u guys (@ the ppl who r denying it not u) just don’t wanna see queer ppl in media they literally could not make it more on the nose w/o making it an actual queer coming out story and not a metaphor (also when Miles and Rio were talking and he was trying to tell her “a secret” aka that he was spider-man and he was going all “i- i’m- i’m-” before bailing she 1000% thought he was trying to come out to her like as queer idk what other way she couldve interpreter that like srsly)

also not to be horny in asks but i need Miguel to fucking rail me for fuck’s sake hes hot and usually it’d be more likely i’d be into a mosquito than a muscular guy (it’s normally too generic yk)

and yeah that’s all my thoughts on the movie that’s i can turn into words (final random ones that idk how to format: Gwen and Miles were like extra baby in this one esp Miles + ik he has a wife and all but Peter and Miguel r definitely doing smthn like the vibes r there u cant deny it + Gwen x Miles is one of those ships that i don’t rlly care whether they’re romantic or platonic but i prefer them platonic and unfortunately the writers don’t seem to agree with me (kinda like Jopper except Jopper kinda grew on my entirely because of Willel being siblings bring extra extra canon) + not related to the contents of the film but there were these group of rlly annoying Neds sitting behind me and my friend who wouldn’t stop talking and going on their phones and i only heard one but according to my friend 2 ppl yelled at them to shut up and i heard them stop for like 2 seconds then start being bitches again it was so fucking annoying) and yeah damn that was a kinds long final thoughts thingy but yeah will this become my entire personality? idk we’ll have to see now if u’ll excuse me i gotta remember how to be a normal human again (hope this wasn’t too long lmao) :p

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH(sorry had to let that out) (it’s happy btw)

yes yes the metaphors, made me cry n everythin,, miles n rio were just !!!!!!! i loved it mostly bcuz i wish that was how my mom would’ve reacted if i ever came out to her (spoiler alert, she didn’t and she found out on her own. she was not at all accepting which is typical)

i mean at first, i thought miguel was comical very comical for having beef with miles, who is half his age!!!! yeah after i got out the theater, i wanted to beat his ass 😡😡😡 but then i could kinda see his attractive still not an excuse, i’d still fight him on sight

peter + miguel, i mean mj would obviously approve,,, they’re my poly couple ok??? miguel n mayday get me in my feels,,, 😭😭😭 like i’ve posted before PETER B PARKER AND MIGUEL O’HARA ATE EACH OTHERS ASSES!!!!! yeah great times

miles + gwen, i don’t really see or care for them romantically.. idk i just can’t see their romantic coding… them platonically just seem so much better to me

sorry abt those Neds,,, they seem like total bitches and you make this movie your whole personality bcuz it will be worth it (secretly goin to make the movie my personality again)

#asks #mutuals 💗

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mdhwrites · 1 year

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Willow or Gus Should Not Have Been in TOH

This is... NOT about their characters. It simply isn’t. It also ISN’T to say both shouldn’t have been in the show or to say one should have been more important than the other. Who they are honestly has nothing to do with this blog. Their magic is what is fundamentally wrong with having both characters in the show because they do not fit major themes of the show simply by how their magic is. Let’s get into it. And to do that, we actually can’t talk about Willow and Gus. Instead, let’s discuss the Coven system as it is presented by the show. The coven system is an oppressive order put upon witches to force them to choose one coven to join for the rest of their life. It robs them of the ability to do any other type of magic and is implied in story to be much of why the current state of the Isles is so selfish, mean and unruly when compared to the time of the Isles when people used all types of magic as they pleased. It is also explicitly a selfish lie made by the evil ruler of the land so as to work towards a grand plan of his literally hundreds of years in the making, or at least 50 since he first came to power. It is meant to be seen as a categorically bad thing. A lie to under power people with the claim that the dead god, if it’s a god at all, believes that the coven system is the ‘right’ way to use magic. This, in story, wouldn’t actually be hard to keep consistent actually. You have characters always showing themselves at their most powerful using combinations of magic while also avoiding having anyone who seems... blessed... to only use one magic. Yeah... NOW let’s talk about Gus and Willow. The twin prodigies. We’ll talk about Gus first because he is the actually less egregious of the two. He is called a prodigy in story and skipped two grades in school due to how good he is at illusion magic. He is also commonly depicted as the best illusionist in the show, even to the point where an errant panic attack of his is strong enough to accidentally beat the literal strongest illusionist in the government ON ACCIDENT. I also don’t believe we literally ever see him use another type of magic. The closest is when he borrows Luz’s glyphs and that is hardly him using a different school of magic when lack of faith in those glyphs and his abilities still lead to incredible results (Luz’s glyphs being bad is another blog itself). All of this... CAN be explained though. Or most of it. There’s no excusing the panic attack taking out a head of state in their own field. Gus is an energetic, imaginative guy and that energy goes well with illusions. He theoretically has been training with and mastering illusions from a young age. He has put in the work to be where he is and so at least there’s a basis for why he is as strong as he is. For anyone wondering why I’m not discussing Amity in this blog, THAT’S WHY. She explicitly put in the work to be a skilled abomination user and she honestly doesn’t do anything outrageous with those powers when compared to other abomination users in the show. She never shows up her dad. Gus shows up literally everyone else. But uh... Let’s talk about that other side and Willow. Half a Witch Willow who is never depicted as having practiced plant magic in a serious capacity. She likes plants but she was explicitly made to study a different track because of the career options tied to it. When we see younger her, she’s not using plant magic but she is failing at other types of magic. In fact, ANY time Willow uses a different track of magic than plants, she fails miserably at it. Without fail. BUT with plants? Well... With no training, no preparation, and a single seed, she turns the common area of a school into a garden of vines INSTANTLY. In episode six of the show, three episodes after she starts practicing plant magic, she takes out an entire group of monster hunters, who are adults, and specifically trained for combat, SINGLE HANDEDLY as neither of her companions have any form of combat magic at that point. She is so good at plants that once she is no longer the target of Amity’s bullying, she is somehow immediately extremely popular for her use of plant magic as to overshadow a sport’s star at the start of their team’s season. With no training. Willow is in fact actually stated by one character (and this could be hyperbole by a friend tbf) as “The strongest witch they know” while they are actively apprenticed to a witch who studies all types of magic and is the self proclaimed strongest witch in the Boiling Isles. The show backs this claim up though. Willow is CONSTANTLY defined by just how stupidly powerful her magic is and how often it is effortless for her. She doesn’t break a sweat, she doesn’t need to try, she is just on a DIFFERENT LEVEL. As if blessed by a god. As if a god said to her, “You will practice plant magic and nothing else.” So technically, if either Gus or Willow were to be taken out, I would personally argue for thematic integrity, Willow should have been above Gus because she is so much more blatantly blessed to just be powerful. To simply be better but only with one magic. But they both have this problem. So why not get rid of both? Why aren’t I saying that they’re flawed and problematic characters for the show? Well... There is a case to be had there, especially with Amity existing. Especially with Amity’s social pressures from her parents making it so she should be more pro-coven than any other character (another reason why Reaching Out is a bad episode). But I’m kind of trying to be fair and not say cut them both even if a reduced cast probably would not have been a bad choice for the show. But the other reason is argumentative balance. If you have one character who has a reason to believe in the coven system and another who is firmly against it, and Luz in the middle being pulled between them, that opens up some good possibilities for conversations, dynamics, episodes, etc. The two trying to make their point made and prove it. And who would be this theoretical other character? This champion for multiple magics? Do I have some new OC to show- IT’S FUCKING VINEY. VINEY WAS RIGHT FUCKING THERE AND THEY DIDN’T MAKE HER A MAIN SUPPORTING CHARACTER! WHAT THE FU-

*cough, cough* Sorry. Lost it for a moment. But yeah, Viney. She is a force of personality, steals the show in almost any scene she’s in and, oh yeah, USES MULTIPLE MAGICS. Healing and beast keeping. And she’s not depicted to be some god at either, sure (not until they claim she’s the best healer in S2 but *SIIIIIIGH*), but that actually strengthened the point in S1. She shouldn’t be the best in either but how she incorporates the two should allow her to best others who only use one. That would actually disprove the coven system. Because as it is? We have to take the show’s word that the coven system is a lie. That it’s a bad thing. Because if we take the show’s actions, if we look at our supporting cast and what they use... You have an abomination mage who at least has an excuse to be the best at her age. You have an illusionist who is younger than even the rest of the main teenage cast but is literally able to beat the strongest mages in his field on accident, he is that blessed with power. And a plant mage who never trained but once she starts using it is immediately the best in her school where PLANT MAGIC IS TRAINED. And only one of these people ever uses another type of magic, the first one, and it’s not even a type of magic technically claimed by any one coven (that has to do with general issues with the coven system being dumb though and that’s another blog). And she does it ONCE. So... Yeah. Someone needed to be cut and Viney needed to be added. Or either of Viney’s friends. Or just literally anyone who could rep ‘wild magic’ besides Eda because Eda never makes a case beyond “It restricts a witch’s freedom.” Well... Sorry, but if literally all witches, especially those we get to know, seem just to be wasting their time with other types of magic, it seems like to me the coven system is simply helping them live better, more enriching lives by it being okay for them to use the one magic god blessed them with rather than them being forced to be taught multiple in school. Sure worked out for Willow and Gus.

#TOH #Rambles

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beybladefanboy · 2 years

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I’m too negative toward Masters

So here’s a list of things Masters does right (from someone who hasn’t quite finished rewatching it yet so I apologize if I get some details wrong) that I can’t say about any of the other seasons:

-The Dark Tsubasa Arc

This is just an interesting exploration and development of an already great character. Also the way it’s resolved is the best message in the show and genuinely helpful for me personally.

-Hikaru’s arc

Yes, it sucks that one of the only prominent female bladers doesn’t battle anymore. I totally understand that. But I honestly like that Hikaru steps down from Beyblade. I like that they show that it’s okay to take a break or even just step away from something that was hurting you. Sometimes persevering isn’t always the best option and that’s a really mature theme, and a very different one for this show. And the moments where they show how traumatized she still is over what happened to her just hurt my heart every time I see them.

-Team Wild Fang

Yes, I’m biased to Kyoya. Him joining the world tournament from another team’s country just to crush Gingka in front of the entire world is completely in character and just a clever way to include him in this season. Nile and Demure are also both great characters. I like the camaraderie Kyoya and Nile have and just how sassy Nile is general. Demure isn’t traditionally tough but he’s strong in other ways, his keen sight and knowledge of beys, and I like how Kyoya recognized that and made him part of the team. Honestly their episodes in general are just really top tier. It’s the closest Gan Gan Galaxy ever comes to losing the World Championship in my eyes, with it being the only one to last for four battles rather than three and many of the team being injured in the struggle.

-The overlapping arcs of Da Xiang and Julian

Both of these characters were the leader of a renowned group expected to never fail. In the end, an important battle was left up to them and they lost. Their reputation cracked and the legacy of many before them was seemingly tainted because of them. The difference? Da Xiang was instantly surrounded by supportive friends and respectful rivals so he was able to learn to rise from the defeat and come back stronger. Julian was given another chance after his defeat but lost again and was humiliated in front of everyone, losing more and more until he felt he had nothing left to lose and joined Ziggurat. Then these two characters, who I never thought to connect before this, meet and Da Xiang shows just how much he’s grown over the course of the season, eventually making Julian grow in the same way as he inspires him to stand back up and continue for his team. I love the way their stories mirror each other and how Da Xiang was able to help Julian learn what he learned.

-The Tsubasa/Madoka moments

This is just the shipper in me but I gotta sprinkle some lighter stuff in to keep this list from being too depressing. Besides, this is almost exclusively a dynamic in Masters and definitely the start of it. I think these two really click and they have a lot of small cute moments in this season. They both have the maturity of people twice their age (most of the time in the case of Tsubasa) while the rest of their team is playing a game of pass the brain cell so it’s just entertaining to watch these two deal with that.

-Team Dungeon

I may not be a Masamune fan but he is absolutely important to Masters’ story, even before the second half. He’s a foil for Gingka and is slowly becoming more humbled and more of a team player through his experiences in the world tournament. Yet he still never lets go of his goal to be the “number 1 blader,” something that seems like just some selfish desire becomes a lot more potent with the introduction of Toby and Zeo, and the reveal that Masamune, Toby, and Zeo all promised they would become number 1 together. It doesn’t excuse Masamune’s more... abrasive moments throughout the season but it does give a reason that’s much deeper than simple arrogance. And this backstory makes the battle between Masamune and Zeo in the world championships downright tragic, with Zeo knowing Toby will die if he loses and thinking Masamune betrayed them while Masamune (who doesn’t even fully realize how bad Toby’s condition is at this point if I remember correctly) doesn’t understand why Zeo is mad at him and is just desperately trying to get through to his friend.

-The two Blader DJs

I have no analysis on this, I just think it’s funny. Their battle is funny and I like that they announce the America vs Japan battles together, each of them clearly having a bias toward their home team.

They’re also just really gay. We stan our gay nerd announcer bois.

-The shady stuff Team Starbreaker does

(Side note: Oh my gosh look at the way Jack is flipping his hair, that’s so cute)

This is probably the most... down to earth(?) of the villain plans in Beyblade because it’s all rooted in science, so it’s easier to believe something like it could happen in real life. A system that unnaturally brings out the hidden abilities of a person? I could see that technology existing one day and it freaks me out to think about how humans could and would abuse it, just as they do here. The way Jack and especially Damian were brainwashed also feels very real. It’s not fantasy brainwashing with some kind of magic or machine, it’s children, Damian especially, being groomed into believing their way is the best way so they never step out of line and do exactly what Ziggurat needs them to do. It’s horrifying. I also like the twist that Ziggurat was using the world tournament, everyone he brainwashed/manipulated, and the horrific technology he was already using just to complete an even more terrifying weapon. It’s a much more unique way to end the season than a simple Gingka vs Damian would’ve been. Speaking of which:

-Gingka isn’t the only one who saves the day

This is probably the biggest thing Masters has over both Fusion and Fury to me. You can argue that in both of those seasons, Gingka’s final battle was the only one that mattered. (I don’t necessarily agree with that notion but my point is that Gingka is the one given all of or at least most of the glory.) In Masters, there really isn’t one single person who saves the day. Nearly everyone had a final battle in Spiral City that helped them win the day: Da Xiang battling Julian, Tsubasa battling Jack, Kyoya battling Damian, Masamune and Gingka battling Faust, Ryuga taking down Spiral City itself and helping those two, Zeo murdering Ziggurat- wait, that’s what happened right? Yes, the final stopping the meltdown thing was just Gingka... at first, which would’ve been boring. But then low and behold:

*LOUD RYUGA FANBOY SCREAMING*

Ryuga and Gingka, two former enemies, work together to save the world and it’s one of my favourite moments in all three seasons. I love how weirdly helpful Ryuga is in this season. I love how the first season ends with two enemies battling with the world at stake and the second season ends with those same people, now no longer enemies working together to save the world. It’s like poetry. It rhymes, sorta. Then the third season ends with my heart being shattered to pieces but that’s for another time.

Conclusion: Masters is good, I’ve been giving it way too hard of a time over this past year. That’s due in part because of the way it and Fury are perceived and my own past with both these seasons. Yes, that’s petty of me, but hear me out.

(Slight Fury tangent, but it’s relevant)

When I first rewatched Fury, I was shocked it was good. Genuinely shocked, I remembered hating it, I remembered hating it and not caring that Ryuga, who is now a very personal character for me, died horribly. I feel I unfairly hated Fury when I was younger and didn’t give it a fair chance, a feeling I may have unintentionally projected onto other fans, without even realizing. I’ll start by saying that’s in no way my call to make. You honestly don’t even have to watch all of Fury to decide you’re not a fan of it. You gave it the chance you decided was fair, as did I.

Now that I do love Fury, I want to show it as much love as I can and that has lead to me making some... unfair comparisons between Masters and Fury. I still think they both have issues with underusing characters and yes, Masters does bother me more in that regard than Fury does but that’s my own bias toward the characters. Everyone has their own. I personally like Kenta more than Yu, Benkei, and Tsubasa, so Kenta’s almost complete absence in Masters stings way more to me than Yu, Benkei, and Tsubasa’s sidelining in Fury. And yes, I still take Fury’s new cast over Masters’s new cast. That’s just my preference, and I hope I haven’t given off an impression that you aren’t allowed to have your own preference. No one opinion means more than another and none of us can ever be fully “objective.” I’ve tried to be objective on these seasons, and it’s still full of bias because we are biased creatures. That’s not possible to avoid.

So I apologize if I ever came off as aggressive or gate-keeping towards opinions on Masters and Fury. It’s something I plan to fix going forward with this blog. There are completely valid reasons to love Masters and completely valid reasons to hate Fury. Honestly you can hate Fury solely because it’s weird and that’s a valid opinion. If anything, I’ve been looking back on my 15 year old opinion (that’s how old I was when I first saw it) with way too much scrutiny. My opinion back then was as valid as it is now, it’s just that my old opinion is one that I now really really disagree with and because it was me, there is a filter of shame over it, especially with the Ryuga thing.

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cuchufletapl · 2 years

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my tongue sounds so sweet from your mouth

For Edling Week 2022. Day 4: Study | Style | Understanding

AO3

Honestly, Ling thought, it was surprising that it had taken him seeing the notification pop up on Ed’s phone to understand what was going on with him, because in retrospective he was not being sneaky at all.

“Ah, no, sorry, I can’t hang out this afternoon,” he’d said the fourth Thursday in a row, “I’ve got to meet with my supervisor.”

Which was a rare as hell occurrence, given that Ed hated his PhD supervisor’s guts—allegedly, at least, because Ling had asked many times why he didn’t just ask for a change and he always got a grumble about how Dr Mustang was the only one out of those old fuckers that didn’t underestimate him for being only 20. Still, tsundere appreciation for his supervisor or not, he would usually avoid actual meetings with the man as if going to one too many would send him into an anger-induced coma.

Four in a month should have straight-up sent him to the grave.

“Again?”

“Yeah, you know how I’ve started doing the experiments with the particle accelerator, so I need to check with him semi-regularly. It’s a pain in the ass.”

The next week, Ed had ended up saying, in between exasperated sighs, that the meetings were an actually scheduled weekly thing now, so Thursday afternoons were a no-go now for the time being.

It had been five months since.

To be fair, Ling hadn’t asked him to hang out on a Thursday again after that, and they did see each other plenty either way, being close friends and flatmates and all that, so it had eventually slipped his mind.

But it hadn’t been the only sign.

One time, when they were walking around campus, some girl with dyed hair, at least four layers of vintage clothes on and a Penguin Books tote bag had seen Ed and stopped to say hi for a couple of minutes. Ling had never seen her before, which wasn’t particularly strange even if they both shared the same social circles. And, besides, Ed had tensed like a guitar string the second that she had approached—maybe she was an acquaintance that he didn’t like much. But what had sent him for a massive loop was the fact that she had left with a cheery “see you in class!”

“She goes to your classes?”

Ed had paused for a second. “Yes. Why?”

“She looks our age.”

He was pretty sure that he would have heard by now if there was another prodigy in their university who was doing a PhD at the age that normal people would be an undergrad.

“She’s, uh, actually way older than she seems,” he said, slowly. “It’s because of her style, you know?”

Ling had cocked his head and considered it. “Yeah, I guess. Which, speaking of, what a way to break stereotypes, huh? I would have cocked her for a Humanities student, not STEM.”

Ed had let out a bark of laughter that now Ling, with the benefit of hindsight, realised had sounded so weirdly nervous because she probably had been, in fact, a Humanities student.

Ling thought of himself as a walking lie detector and honestly it was down-right embarrassing that he hadn’t given further thought to Ed’s flimsy excuses other than “that many meetings is a bit weird, but what do I know what PhD students do” and “Ed himself is a metalhead in STEM, you can’t judge someone by their looks.”

Now that he was thinking about it, he had even gotten a glimpse of one of Ed’s writing-practice sheets once, half-hidden under a pile of folders on his desk, when they were watching a movie in his room.

(But in his defence, his brain had probably not fully registered it. For one, he was exhausted after handing in one of the big essays for his International Law module, and secondly—he was too busy trying to play it cool as Ed had ended up falling asleep on his shoulder. Ed wasn’t that skittish with physical touch, but he definitely kept to himself when it came to physical affection, so this instance of near cuddling was a rare enough occurrence that it had Ling’s already poorly contained crush doing somersaults in his chest.)

Still, genuinely, how had he not given a second thought to the fact that Ed was busier than normal and weirdly evasive when asked what he was doing? How the fuck had it been the Duolingo owl the one to finally clue him in?

Ed walked into their kitchen with his backpack ready to burst as Ling had just finished having lunch and was idly scrolling on TikTok. He left phone, keys, and jacket on the counter and started talking about some stuff his supervisor kept pestering him about as he took books upon books out of the backpack—a typical trip back from the library; Ling didn’t even need to ask “what the hell.”

Then, Ed’s phone lit up.

“You got a message.”

Ed was holding a tower of books on his hands. Ling took a moment to appreciate how his flesh arm’s muscles bulged.

“Ah, that must be my brother. He’s coming to visit and he needed me to go pick him up.” He turned towards the living room table to put the books on it. “Read it for me, will you? I’ve got my hands busy.”

Ling was already looking over the phone as he answered, and his “yeah, sure—“ got cut off as his eye caught the second notification on the lock screen, under Alphonse’s text.

“It would be a pity to lose that 93-day streak. Keep practicing Xingese today!”

He blinked and reread it, feeling his view of Edward Elric warp around this revelation. He looked up at Ed, his braid swinging slightly in front of his back as he walked, and his throat suddenly felt parched.

Ed hadn’t said anything. Even though he obviously would have benefitted from one of his closest friends being a native speaker of Xingese, he hadn’t even mentioned that he had been studying the language for at least three months, if his Duolingo streak was to be taken as a metric.

His eyes flickered down to the notification and then back up at Ed, to his profile as he perused the book on the top of the stack and thumbed his lower lip. He probably had kept it a secret for a reason and Ling’s heart burned with the possibility of why.

His lips quirked up and he huffed fondly (maybe a bit lovesick, he would admit). He’d let Ed keep playing at this, then.

“Alphonse says that he’ll be arriving at Central in half an hour,” he said, after actually reading the text notification.

“Okay, cool.” Ed looked up at him and flashed him a smile. This was completely normal, but under new knowledge Ling had to contain a flush. “Thanks.”

After that, the puzzle pieces fell into place. Ling looked it up, and their university offered Xingese classes from 4 PM to 6 PM on Thursdays. The new course for beginners had started at the start of winter term and it was now May, meaning that Ed had probably been studying Xingese for around five months—those frequent meetings with Dr Mustang had been a farce, he’d known that Ed hadn’t complained enough about it.

Although it was unlikely that Edward would be fluent enough already to understand conversation speed, he did start taking care of what he said when he called his family in front of him. Or, rather, when he called Lan Fan, because he had gushed about Ed to her more than once with him present. While it wasn’t like he didn’t flirt with him on a regular basis—he’d called him the most gorgeous man to walk this Earth several times—he was pretty sure that despite his blushing, Ed took it as friendly joke. Ling didn’t want his actual feelings to get discovered on accident because he had underestimated Ed’s Xingese level.

So when he called Lan Fan to finally let it out, he did so when Ed was in lab.

“Oh, I knew that,” she said when he finished telling her.

“… You knew?”

“He asked me to teach him a bit a few weeks before I left for my internship.” She hesitated for a second before continuing, sounding apologetic, “He made me promise not to tell you because he wanted to surprise you with it. I would’ve told you anyway but he insisted he didn’t have any bad intentions. He even mentioned something about your birthday.”

Ling’s blood roared in his veins. He wanted to get out of their flat, find Ed wherever in campus he was at the moment, and kiss him senseless. “Lan Fan, be honest. Do you think this is a platonic thing?”

She took a couple of seconds to respond. “It could be. But I don’t understand why he would keep something like this a secret for this long if it was just a friend thing.”

“Yeah.” He couldn’t feel his cheeks from how hard he was grinning. “I thought so too.”

When Ed got back that evening, he asked Ling what he was so smiley about while he set to make dinner for the both of them.

“No reason,” he answered in a sing-song voice, but he could tell that Ed knew that he was up to something.

Ling checked the time on his phone for the tenth time. It was only seven minutes past six, but he had half a mind to climb the tree that he was leaning on to get to the Xingese classroom on the second floor and see what was taking so long. A trickle of anxiety down his spine had him worried that he had gotten the wrong building, but he had triple-checked the uni website. He couldn’t be mistaken.

Around the ten-minute mark, people started coming out of the entrance. He recognised the probably-an-undergrad-Humanities-student walking out. So that was another theory confirmed.

Not too long after, Ed came out, absentmindedly adjusting his back pack on the one shoulder it was hanging from while his eyes were buried in his phone. Ling felt a thrill of excitement at the fact that he hadn’t been noticed yet.

He approached Edward carefully and silently until he was right behind him. He didn’t dare do what he wished (lower his head until it was level with Ed’s ear), because he knew that Ed’s reflexes would react faster than he’d notice that it was Ling and he’d get metal-punched in the face—he’d sparred enough times with him at the Martial Arts club to fear that.

So, he contented himself with walking a meter from him and enunciating, slowly and clearly, in Xingese, “How was your class?”

Ed turned around so fast that that his ponytail sliced the air like a whip.

His eyes seemed to bulge out of their sockets and his mouth fell open as he became rooted to the spot.

“Ling, where did you come fr—what are you—” he stammered for a few seconds, before a look of comprehension sunk into his face and he scrunched his eyes shut. “Motherfucker,” he cursed with feeling.

Ling laughed.

“Did you honestly think that you were going to keep it a secret forever?”

“Not forever, no. Just until August,” Ed sulked. Ling laughed again and he rubbed his face. “God-fucking-dammit. Did Lan Fan tell you?”

“No. It was… what was the name of the Duolingo owl again?”

Ed stared at him, pocketed his phone that still was in his hand and sighed. “Shit. Well. That’s what I get for using a fucking app for this shit.”

Ling hummed. “Well, you managed to hide it for five months, so that’s pretty impressive.”

“Eleven.”

He blinked. “Eleven?”

“I started last summer. Self-taught, though, so I didn’t get that far.” He shrugged. “The initial idea was to wish you a happy birthday in Xingese last year, but my pronunciation was absolute crap and I decided to study it for longer before, y’know.”

Nearly a year. Ling thought that he might have died.

“How far would you say that you’ve gotten now?”

Ed raised an eyebrow, some of his usual cockiness returning. “Pretty far. I scored the highest on the last test.”

Of course he had.

“So, do you think that you would understand this?”

With his heart in his throat, he pronounced the next string of Xingese words slowly and carefully. Ed frowned in confusion for a second before understanding entered his eyes and he started to flush beet red.

“I—” he started, and then huffed. He averted his eyes. “Yes,” he answered, and he didn’t get the tone quite right, but his accent was adorable nonetheless.

A laugh of joy threatened to bubble up Ling’s throat. He took the hand that was clutching the backpack strap, placed his other hand at Ed’s waist and crouched slightly to let his forehead touch against his.

This was a marvel of a moment and he wanted to savour it. His heart was beating so loud in his ears that he almost didn’t hear Ed snort as he likewise put an arm around him.

“You know, if I’d known it was this easy to get you to ask me out, I would’ve told you that I was studying Xingese ages ago.”

Ling laughed again (to tell the truth, giggled) and nuzzled his nose against Ed’s. He didn’t notice that he had closed his eyes until he heard his—now boyfriend!—hum with the intention to speak and he opened them again.

“So, uh—“ He took a breath. “Can I… kiss you?”

God, yes, Ling was going to die.

“Did they teach you to say that in your university classes?”

“No, shut up,” Ed said, and he cut off Ling’s laughter with his lips.

#if you see how shaky my lines are for the speech bubbles in the comic no you don't #I'm a sucker of the 'character learning their so's native language in secret' trope so here it is #edling #edlingweek #edlingweek22 #edward elric #ling yao #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood #fma #fmab #fma fanfic #my original post #an attempt at art (by yours truly)#jester writes a thing #fanfiction

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titsthedamnseason · 2 years

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I'm so scared of reading Loren from Luna and Donnelly povs 😭 I already know some part of the fandom is gonna turn on him like they did when he didn't like raisy and honestly he was right the age thing is a huge factor and even bigger one for lunelly so he's right to be annoyed!!

i know….he still gets so much hate for the daisy situation which is just like. wild lol. people are obviously just mad he was getting in the way of their ship (which btw, as a hoe for drama i can’t even really see that as being a totally bad thing) but the excuse they use is that his intentions were corrupt and he didn’t actually care about daisy? which i honestly don’t read it that way at all. like yeah he wasn’t super involved in daisy’s life but he HAD known her since they were little so it would make sense he’d be protective over her. no one says anything like that when he talks about feeling protective of rose and they arguably had an even more strained relationship. at worst, his intentions in that situation were hypocritical and at best he was looking out for a young girl entering a relationship with an older man that absolutely no one else was stepping in to scrutinize (besides her parents, who, as usual, did an effed up and half assed job)

but anyway, i already have been seeing extra hate on him for this which is crazy. people have no ability to empathize especially when their ship is involved. luna is his daughter and has only had one previous relationship that really destroyed her self esteem so it seems obvious to me he would be protective. and if it’s a little over the top at some scenes, who can blame kbr for playing it up to add drama to the plot?? like i said maybe i just love the drama of it all too much but to me that just makes it more interesting and fun to read like i already know that any scene w lo in these next few books will immediately be some of the most entertaining and painful content of the series all at once and i’m excited for it lol

and the other thing, your comment about seeing him through luna and donnelly’s eyes makes me wonder which direction they’ll go with that. because i feel like on the one hand luna will always love her dad and see where he’s coming from but i’m also sure we’ll see scenes where she’s hurt by his words or feels stifled by his protectiveness and will think down on him. and similarly, i imagine donnelly will be torn between respecting him and being frustrated at the situation. the annoying part is that some people just don’t have reading comprehension and will ONLY be able to see him through the vilified lens regardless of the ways luna and donnelly may be biased or will obviously forgive him eventually after all the turmoil

#addicted fandom hates nuance LMAO #these books aren’t even That complicated to the point you need a lot of braincells #they just have complex relationships that people refuse to see as anything but black and white lmao #bc kbr may be bad at a lot of things but writing characters and their intricate dynamics is not one of those #asks #anonymous #kbr asks #that one line about being empathetic has me feeling like ‘i (an empath) am sensing loren hale’s love for his daughter’

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xxcoralandxx · 2 years

Text

feelings are … weird (part 2)

“so tell me again about the part where your grandparents adopted you again? i only know that you got bullied very bad, but nothing about your family”

tbh, my life story is not something that i openly share with anyone. i find it hard telling that shit to even my closest friend, who i have known for years, let alone telling that to a guy. however, i ended up telling him a brief part of it anyway: how mum n dad got divorced, when i moved in with them, how i felt towards them, etc.

for some reasons, he seemed mad.

what is he mad about? - i thought to myself. is he pitying me?

he walked ahead of me and turned around.

“6 or 7? So you were basically a kid when they left you?”

“Yes!”

“What shitty parents!”

“Don’t say that about my parents!" I was startled at his words. "Are you angry at me? It’s not like i have a choice?!”

“im not angry at YOU. im angry at your parents”

“…”

“i’m starting to see why you are the way that you are”

“…?!!!!” What does that suppose to mean??

“So. Go on. They moved out and then what? Did they start a family?”

“yes”

“with their own kids?”

“yes”

“that meant they just didn’t want to take you with and just left you to the grandparents because you were a reminder of a bad relationship?”

“…. yes”

“what are you doing?" honestly what are you doing? "are you pitying me?” i looked at him with my eyebrow raised.

“no for god sake. i’m trying to understand why. because clearly you didn’t deserve any of this shit”

“yeah well not like i have a choice”

we walked to a circle K nearby.

“where is chocopie? Trang, do you want anything?”

“no"

"but i think it is over here”.

i walked to the first aisle. this dumb motherfucker, i swear to god. how can you be this tall and not see it? it's literally in plain sight when you first walked in.

he grabbed a small box of chocopie and stood in line to wait for the checkout.

the store was small so i stood near the windown, hidden from his sight. i think i was lowkey avoiding his eyes.

“Trang, where are you?”

he asked me twice when he couldn't see me standing near him. for a brief moment, i thought about leaving that store right there and then - just like that walked out of his life.

“over here! just behind the mirror”

“your grandparents....." - he lowered his mask while looking down to meet my eyes.

i was rearranging the chewing gum bottles as a distraction from his words.

"what?"

"your grandparents..did they say anything about their daughter?" he opened the door and we left the convinient store.

“my grandparents? no of course not”

“what?" he raised his voice. "how could they not say anything about their daughter leaving you there?”

“because they are never on my side. they want my mother to be happy and all they care about is hers”

“that’s really fucked up”

….

a moment of silence blanketed the atmosphere.

we walked along side by side but his face was obviously faster than mine. usually we would be on the same pace but today i think i was falling behind him.

eventually, it was me who broke the silence.

“so after my mom and dad moved out, they remarried and had kids, and the funniest thing is that both of my half-sisters were born in the same year. haha”

“that’s not impressive?!”

excuse me ??

“what?!! the fact they were accidentally born in the same year and around the same age is IMPRESSIVE”

“no, it is not. it’s lame as hell".

"compare to what you just told me, this is nothing”

this bitch i swear to god!!

“do you resent your mom?” he asked

“yes. actually when i was younger, i resented her for most of my childhood but it got better now”

“what about your grandparents?”

“Trang!! why do you walk so slowly today?”

“slow down. i can’t keep up with you!”.

He slowed down a bit then turned to look at me.

“do you want me to lend you my arm?”

“…sure?”

“…”

“STOP THAT!”

“Hahahaha”

“Slow down!!”

“Well i lent you my arm but you abused it?!”

“i did not abuse it!! I only plucked your hair haha!!! Ok I promise won’t do it again”

“My grandparents.. Huh. Where is this road again?”

We walked to a not so empty street. It was weird seeing this view of Hanoi. Usually the street would be so crowded and jampacked with people everyone but right now it felt so weird. Some women in short skirts were buying fried sticks at the street vendors near by. Not gonna lie, from the far, I had mistaken them for whores.

“Oh this? This is Nui Truc. Let’s go this way. It’s a shortcut”.

I held his arm while we both headed towards an empty alley. Technically speaking walking alone at midnight with a guy that you don't know well in an empty alley sounds scarry as hell. however, at that moment, i did not feel so scared.

“My grandparents? They took care of me, cooked for me, did the laundry but that’s it. Sometimes they would also emotionally abuse me"

he chuckled a bit when i said that. was it funny? the emotionally abuse?

"Like for example, when i did something bad, they would say thing like - oh it was because of you that your family broke up. Years later when i actually found out why mum and dad divorced and obviously it wasn’t because of me”

“your dad cheated?”.

“…”

he didn't even hesitate when he said that.

“well …. partly”

“knew it”

“partly it was because he cheated and partly it was because his mum disapproved of my mother so she tried to find every ways to separate them. in the end, i guess my dad just loved his mom much more than my mum, so he succumbed to her wish and divorced my mum. and now he’s remarried with the woman that was hand picked by his mom”

“huh? interesting!”

at this point, i'm not sure if he is fascinated by my fucked up family or is judging me lowkey?

“so what else is in that head of yours?” he turned to me while pointing at my temple.

“excuse me?”

“i’m asking YOU what your childhood trauma is?”

“i’m sorry i don’t think i understand your question?”

“What else is in your head? What is your trauma?”

“You want me to say daddy issue or mommy issue or something?”

“No ?? Anything that is considered a trauma?”

“hyper-independence”

“that’s not a trauma. that’s a symptom”

“it is. it is the byproduct of trauma”

“but it’s not trauma!”

“what’s the difference?”

“it’s the result of trauma!”

“are you pitying me?”

“no. i’m trying to understand your pain”

“understand my pain? how can you understand my pain?”

“WELL! I’M TRYING TO PUT MYSELF IN YOUR SHOES TO UNDERSTAND YOUR PAIN. I’M NOT TRYING TO BE SYMPATHETIC. I’M TRYING TO BE EMPATHETIC”

“You understand there is a difference between these two words, right?”

“I understand!”

“we are here. Let’s get you home. It’s late. Not like they gonna let you stay here anyway”

“I can call them”

“Yeah but they won’t let you”

I picked up my phone and dialed the number to my grandparents' house.

“Grandma. Look! I’m out pretty late with my friend. Can i stay at his place for a bit?”

“YOU FUCKIN CHRIST. YOU CAN’T. COME HOME IMMEDIATELY JESUS. ASK YOUR MOM .... " she then passed the phone to grandpa, who was listening this whole time. "THE POLICE ARE GONNA ARREST YOU FOR PROSTITUTION AND BRIBERY AND WE WONT BE THERE TO BAIL YOU OUT. COME HOME RIGHT NOW! I SWEAR TO GOD. COME HOME IMMEDIATELY”

“…”

there was a part in me that did not want to leave that night. i just wanted to stay there for a bit and i was hoping that i could but then again, this is the reality.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry alright. Ah..” - i cuffed my face and was about to cry. “You always talk like i don’t want to spare time for you but in reality this is what happened, it’s not like i dont want to….”

“it’s ok. kiss me goodbye?”

i turned around and looked at him.

“did you forget to kiss me goodbye?”

“..no”. i took off my helmet and placed it on my motorbike seat.

it was a very awkward kiss cause i had no idea how to kiss.

“let’s just go home”

he seemed disappointed so he turned and walked away.

“no. wait. let’s try again!”

“close your eyes and just copy me. relax your neck and body as well”

….

“better?”

“yeah a little bit?”

he broke off the kiss and opened the gate of his previously locked apartment door before stepping in.

i turned around to look at him rambling to find his belongings in his mail box.

“are you disappointed that i am the way that i am?”

“good question!”

“it is a question!!”

“i said good question!”

“well then answer it???!”

“you think i was pitying you? oh poor girl. born into a shit family with no love”

“fuck you!!”. i threw my piles of papers at him. i wish i had a rock or something. why does this guy keep getting on my nerves? he’s so confusing!!

“it’s not it, idiot. use your brain. if i had been disappointed, i wouldn’t have been here with you; i wouldn’t have walked with you; i wouldn’t have listened to you. it’s because I LIKE YOU! Ok?? are we clear?”

“ok?”

“text me when you get home”

“why?”

“just text me”

“ok. bye”

“saturday?”

“saturday.”

#off my chest

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artistfingers · 3 years

Text

There’s one ~silver lining~ of my iPad being broken: I’ve had loads of time to think about my many half-formed undercover phantom au ideas! Since I have no idea when or what will make it to comic form, here’s the lowdown…. AKA, everything that’s been rattling around my brain recently :P

For context: Danny, Sam and Tucker have never met, and nobody knows Danny is Phantom. When Vlad’s newest bit of tech gets Danny stuck in ghost mode (with the rest of his powers on the fritz to boot), he meets Tucker and Sam—who instantly see through his disguise and lend a helping hand. (Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4!!)

So. After that, Danny—no, Phantom—becomes friends with them. It’s exciting! He was invisible at school even before the ghost powers; he was pretty isolated and lonely and being Phantom for the last year hasn’t exactly been a social boon. Kid’s lonely, ok?

But now… two human friends? Who’re his age & share his interests? It’s like a dream come true! If only they weren’t exclusively friends with his ghost self… and if only they didn’t wanna be so involved in his dangerous ghost hunting things…Uhhh. Hm. Could be a problem.

Danny angsts about the danger he’s putting his new friends in, and about not being able to befriend them as a human. He plays with the idea of telling them Everything but that’s… risky to say the least. He’s only known them a few weeks! ugh….!! it’s too much. maybe he should just throw the towel in.

Buuut Sam & Tucker don’t take no for an answer. Especially after they rescue him a third time.

Thus… Phantom friendship shenanigans!!

Sam filched some parts from the Fentonworks Lab when Phantom took them there, and later convinced Tucker to help her build a custom mini ectogun in case of emergency. They didn’t tell Phantom.

Danny is really sentimental about that DP hat he wore when he first met Sam & Tucker. He wore it as Phantom for a while but it got singed in a fight. He still wears it when he hangs out with Tucker & Sam but otherwise keeps it squirreled away for Sentimental Reasons.

“So Phantom, how old are you?” “I’m 15.” “15 now? Or 15 when you died?” “Yes.”

Tucker has a bunch of awful 90s button up shirts, and gives one to Phantom

They aren’t able to convince Sam to wear one too, but they sure do try.

Phantom won’t tell them when he died, so once he starts wearing 90s shirts they start using terrible 90s slang with him

“I am NOT from the 90s!!! They didn’t even SAY that then!!!” “methinks the lady doth protest too much…..home slice” “NOOO!!!”

“Phantom I have an extremely important question. Like, life or death. SHIT is on the LINE here. Are you listening?? I really need to know…. Do ghosts play video games”

The answer may surprise you (no it won’t)

Sam is completely convinced they can ACTUALLY get a good working guess of when Phantom lived and died based on the fact he liked Nasty Burger when he was alive, since NB’s a regional chain with a not-so-distant past. Tucker meanwhile thinks Phantom probably has a good reason for keeping them at arm’s length—but regardless of method, they can agree: they want to break down Phantom’s walls.

The next arc is less “Undercover Phantom” and more “Undercover Fenton” because the juxtaposition of him having to do hidden identities squared (squared again) is too good for me to pass up. It boils down to this: during a ghost attack at school, Danny finds himself stuck being “protected” by Sam and Tucker.

Sam and Tucker take their new jobs as Phantom’s ghost hunting companions too seriously to let this skinny stranger they just met run TOWARDS the danger. WHY does he keep trying to run TOWARDS the danger

NO YOU CANNOT GO TO THE BATHROOM THE SCHOOL IS ON G H O S T L O C K D O W N

Sam pulls out her ectogun.

Danny: WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?!

Sam does not tell him.

“Wait, your last name’s Fenton? Like Fentonworks Fenton?” “No, the other Fenton.” “Oh… well, that’s too bad…” “YES LIKE FENTONWORKS FENTON”

Sam is initially wary of Danny because of his parents’ super strong anti-ecto views. Danny is clueless as to why she isn’t very friendly to him-as-a-human when she’s great with him-as-a-ghost. but she warms up after he helps resolve the ghost issue in a way that shows he doesn’t subscribe to his parents’ views.

afterwards you get this excellent situation where Danny is now friends with Sam and Tucker as Phantom and as Fenton, and they’re not connecting the dots as quickly as they did when it was just “that’s Phantom wearing a hoodie and a cap with his own logo on it”.

the potential here? *chefs kiss* here’s a few things but honestly? the possibilities are limitless

Danny pretending to not have a cell phone because he already gave them his number as Phantom

Tucker: *dials Phantom*

Danny, standing directly next to him: *frantically attempting to silence his phone*

Sam & Tucker try to introduce Danny and Phantom. Danny has to make excuses to avoid this happening in both forms.

Danny takes Sam & Tucker down to the Fentonworks Lab to get them some real equipment. Sam & Tucker pretend (very badly) that they’ve never been there before

Rooftop chill sessions as Phantom, late night teenage hijinks as Fenton, plus school AND fighting ghosts does not do any favors for Danny’s sleep deprivation. Tucker introduces him to caffeine pills with… mixed results.

Tucker and Sam teach Phantom some sign language. Later Danny slips up and uses it casually with them as Fenton

…. And many other silly mixups that I’ve yet to think of because I live for that shit

Sam & Tucker have theories about the Fenton-Phantom connection and they’re all wrong but somehow also plausible and that freaks Danny out just a little bit if he ever overhears them

Ultimately, I see this AU having a final arc where a New Situation occurs in which Danny-as-Phantom has to—once again—pretend to be human. This time, he’s with Sam & Tucker as Phantom from the get go, and can’t disappear or transform, even if being Phantom is extremely dangerous at that moment. Somehow this scenario would lead to the Fenton-is-Phantom (or, in this case, Phantom-is-Fenton) reveal…. But the details still escape me :P

so in short………… I really like hidden identities

#danny phantom #danny phantom au #danny fenton #tucker foley #sam manson #undercover phantom au #no one knows au #DP #WHY is this 1000 words long IM SO SORRY #PS if you are reading these tags and you left tags on any of the comics so far with your own ideas for this au THANK YOU I LOVE YOU #PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE feel free to add on ideas to this au any way youd like 🙏#it is just a big ol hidden identities sandbox with also lots of teenages hijinks #im hoping to have my ipad fixed by wednesday-ish so more comics........ eventually :"D #in the meantime please enjoy this long text post and maybe some sketchbook things #if i can work up the nerve to post something straight out of the sketchbook lmfao #long post #fic #art writes

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seijorhi · 3 years

Text

Reminiscent

i’m (semi) back, y’all, and i come bearing a fic!! fhdjhfjdk it’s for oikawa i won’t apologise

Oikawa Tooru x female reader

TW non-con, drunk/drugged reader, forced infidelity, emotional manipulation, angst, past trauma, coercion, mild(ish?) smut, nsfw

“F-fuck, cutie! Just like – hah– just like that!”

You weren’t the clubbing type.

Not usually, at least – but exams were over and one of your friends was fresh off a bad breakup, one night letting loose wouldn’t hurt.

Walking is… difficult, your steps are sloppy – there’s an arm wrapped around your waist, your own slung over a stranger’s shoulders. Why are you outside? Where are your friends – they… they promised they wouldn’t leave you.

“She good, dude?”

A soft, pretty laugh rumbles at your side, “Yeah, she’s gonna be just fine.”

And you remember the bar, the overpriced cocktails and the saccharine sweetness of strawberry liquor on your tongue. The dizzying lights and the bass that thumped so loudly you felt it reverberate in your chest. You knew the rules; they’d been drilled into you since you were sixteen years old.

Stick together, don’t accept drinks from strangers, and watch the one in your hand like a hawk - it doesn’t leave your sight.

A tongue between the valley of your breasts, long fingers curling up inside of you.

“You like that, huh pretty girl? You gonna cum for me?”

They wouldn’t have just abandoned you, right? Maybe you told them to go. Maybe they thought you wanted it; to go home with the handsome stranger.

You never had the guts to ask them, never spoke about that night again. Not to anyone.

Pain. Something thrusting inside of you, splitting you open while he moans and pants atop you. It hurts so much and you want it to stop.

Please stop. Please. Please. Please.

You’re begging, at least you think you are, but the words come out jumbled and wrong, and he just laughs, hiking up your thigh so he can fuck you deeper.

Why won’t he stop?

When you wake up, bruised and sore and all alone in your bed, it feels like a bad dream. You know it’s not – not with cum still seeping from between your thighs, the scent of the stranger’s cologne clinging to your sheets.

And you scrub your skin raw in the shower, but it isn’t enough to rid you of his touch.

—

It’s nothing like what they show on tv.

There’s no sympathetic detective to pat you on your shoulder while you break down, swearing that they’ll find the man who did this and you’ll get your justice.

You don’t go to the cops because you’ll know what they’ll say. You were drunk, drugged, and even if you could remember what he looked like (his eyes were brown, you think, and there’s a flash of a smirk in your head but the moment you try to focus on it it slips away like smoke) any evidence of rape washed down the drain the moment you stepped into the steaming shower.

At least… that’s what you tell yourself. It’s easier than admitting you’re terrified of judgemental eyes.

Or worse; pitying ones.

So you pretend that nothing happened. You show up to your classes and throw yourself into studying, make the time to get coffee with your friends, you even pick up a part time job – it’s good to keep busy.

The nightmares are just that; nightmares.

And things are fine, until they’re not.

—

“Baby, you’re here!!”

There’s barely time to drop your bags before she’s pulling you into a warm hug. “Hi mom,” you reply, squeezing her back.

When she draws back to take you in, one hand cupping your cheek, she frowns, “You look tired sweetheart. Have you been sleeping enough?”

“Yeah, just tired from exams and stuff.”

She looks unconvinced, but mercifully doesn’t push the issue. Of course, you don’t tell her that you missed your last two exams because you’d walked past some guy wearing that same cologne and just choked – that instead of finishing off your semester strong, you’d spent the day alternating between throwing up and crying in bed.

She doesn’t need to know that, because of that, you’ll probably fail both classes and have to retake them again next semester on top of an already full course load. It’s fine; you’ll figure it out.

For now, you work on matching her enthusiasm at having you home, grabbing your bags to bring them inside and into your old room.

“Oh, wait–”

Abruptly, you pause, gazing in confusion from the doorway of your bedroom. There’s a duffle bag lying open and empty atop your bed, a tangled jump rope, some weights, an empty bottle, a sweat towel – even what looks like a spare workout tee scattered haphazardly across the sheets.

“… I didn’t take you for a gym junkie, mom.”

She stops behind you, sighing. “It’s not mine it’s– Tooru said he was going to tidy it up, sorry sweetheart.” She sweeps past you to start tidying it up, but not before you catch sight of her wide eyed, deer in headlights expression.

And you can’t help the lone eyebrow that rises, falling back against the doorframe, arms folding across your chest. “Tooru, huh?” you grin, “And who might Tooru be?”

The flustered, almost guilty look she sends you makes you want to laugh – this is easy, comfortable, this you can do – but you restrain yourself. Just. “Tooru is… he’s– well, he’s the man I’m… seeing.”

She admits it like she’s confessing to a crime, eyes all wide and nervous; anticipating your reaction. And you suppose it’s not unwarranted. As far as you’re aware, she’s been alone ever since the day your dad walked out on you both – raising you was always the priority, or maybe the excuse. But you’re not fourteen anymore, you don’t need another father figure or every spare bit of her time and attention, and she doesn’t need your approval for this.

So you smile at her, “Is he nice?”

She lights up, her features – almost a mirror image of your own – softening as she beams, “He’s amazing, honey. I honestly don’t know how this whole thing really happened, or why he’s even interested in someone like me but… I lucked out with him.”

And so it goes, you prying little bits of information about the mysterious Tooru as the afternoon passes.

She tells you that they met a few months back, at the bakery she likes in town – and how she kept running into him; at the grocery store, and then at the park, and then on her way back from yoga that one night.

She tells you that he’s a terrible flirt, all smooth and charming with warm, pretty brown eyes, but he’s a good man beneath it all and she’s never met anyone like him.

It strikes you, as you watch your mom animatedly talk about him, that you’ve never seen her look like this before.

Happy.

She can’t stop smiling, and when you look at her, really look, she’s almost a different person – younger somehow, a bit more care-free. It suits her, and you wonder with a slight pang in your heart how you never noticed how lonely she was before.

And she’s adamant that they’re taking things slowly, that he still has an apartment of his own in town – which to be honest, you really aren’t gonna judge her on either way – but it is kind of funny simply because whether your mom realises it or not, it’s clearly a lie.

The subtle reclaiming of your bedroom aside, there’s traces of Tooru scattered all around the house; the extra toothbrush and aftershave you’d spotted in the bathroom, the men’s shoes and the jacket by the door, red wine in the cupboard when your mom’s only ever indulged in white.

You haven’t been into her bedroom, but at this point you’d hazard a guess that there’s at least one drawer full of Tooru’s clothes, probably half her closet cleared out for him as well.

“He’s coming for dinner, but I just wanted today to be just us,” she says, reaching across the couch to squeeze your hand. And you’re grateful for it, because you’re happy for her – you are – but you’re not so sure how you would’ve handled meeting the stranger holding your mother’s heart first thing. At least, not after the last few days.

Not when you still feel all… brittle.

—

Tooru arrives a little after seven, and to say that he’s not entirely what you were expecting is kind of an understatement.

She’d gushed about how tall and handsome he is – though personally, you think pretty’s the more accurate word, what with his soft, delicate features, perfect cupid’s bow lips and all. What she’d neglected to tell you was that the man in question, stepping through the front door with a faint smile on his face, has to be at least ten years younger than her, mid-thirties at most.

Suddenly, your mom’s initial reluctance to bring him up starts to make sense.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he murmurs, stopping by your mom to drop a fleeting kiss to her cheek before warm brown eyes turn to you.

Your heart stutters.

“Sweetheart,” your mom begins, slipping an arm around his waist and relaxing into his side, “this is Tooru– Oikawa,” she corrects herself.

He smiles at you, friendly and charming, “It’s great to finally meet you, your mom’s told me so much – all good things, of course!”

You force yourself to smile in return, “Yeah, you too.”

There’s nothing overtly wrong with Oikawa, age difference aside – your mom’s clearly head over heels in love with the guy and on a surface level he seems nice enough, but you find yourself glad for the fact that he doesn’t make a move to step closer, try to shake your hand or god forbid hug you or something like that.

He’s nothing but a gentleman as your mom steps back into the kitchen to finish off dinner, setting the table without being prompted, pouring a glass of wine for your mom and one for himself before he offers a glass to you.

“Oh, no I’m alright, thanks.”

You don’t drink so much anymore. He shrugs, like it’s no big deal but your mom pouts at you from the kitchen. “C’mon, sweetie. We’re celebrating tonight! One drink won’t hurt.”

“We’re celebrating?” you ask.

She throws you a wink, gaze softening as she turns to glance at Oikawa, already diligently pouring you a glass, “Of course we are. It’s not every day my girl comes home, and it’s nice having you both here with me.”

Oikawa’s fingers brush against yours for a fleeting second as he passes you the glass, and you have to fight to keep yourself from ripping your hand away. It’s nothing, you just– you’re not good with strangers touching you, and as nice as he is and as much as your mom might be infatuated with him, he is still a stranger.

“Absolutely,” he agrees, a playful twinkle in his eye as he clinks his wine glass against yours. “So you’re at uni, right? What are you studying?”

Uni’s the last thing you want to be thinking about right now, but whether or not Oikawa genuinely cares, he’s obviously trying to make an effort to get to know you. For your mother’s sake, grinning innocuously in the kitchen as she adds the last little touches to dinner, you suck it up, plaster a smile across your face and ignore the twinge of discomfort in your gut.

You can handle one night of small talk.

—

You wake the following morning to the sound of voices carrying down the hall.

Not your mother’s – both are too deep, and your mom left a few hours ago for work. Figuring that one of them at least is likely Oikawa, you pull on a thin, satin robe over your pajamas, tying the sash in a loose knot before you slip from the room.

Those suspicions are proven correct; you round the corner to find Oikawa sitting up at the kitchen counter, a warm cup of coffee in his hand. There’s another man, a touch shorter, but imposing with dark, spiky hair and olive green eyes standing on the other side, hands braced on the marble top, glaring at Oikawa.

They both look up at the sound of your hesitant approach, the stranger abruptly straightening up, while Oikawa merely grins.

“Ah, you’re up,” he observes cheerfully, taking a sip of his coffee.

Your eyes flicker between him and the stranger – clearly comfortable enough in your home and with Oikawa, despite the faint, lingering irritation still visible on his face – and as your cheeks warm, you find yourself wishing you’d put actual clothes on before coming out to investigate.

“I- I heard voices…” you trail off, awkwardly folding your arms over your chest. “Is mom–”

“At work,” he supplies. “Do you want some breakfast? Coffee, maybe?”

You risk another glance at the other man, watching you now with an unreadable expression, dark eyebrows furrowed. You swallow uncomfortably, shifting slightly as you shake your head. “No, I-I’m okay.”

And in an instant, a flash, something like recognition passes through those olive eyes.

Oikawa chuckles smoothly, finally tearing his eyes away from you to address his friend, “Iwa, stop being so rude. You’re scaring the poor thing.”

The stranger, Iwa, just scoffs. “You’re a real piece of shit, y’know?”

If he’s bothered by the scathing insult, Oikawa doesn’t show it, merely shrugging before turning his attention back to you with a smirk. “Ignore him, he’s just pissy this morning.”

You’d have to be a complete idiot not to sense the uncomfortable tension between the two of them – and now you. This is your home, but it feels like you’re intruding, like you’ve stumbled into a conversation you have no business hearing, but even if you wanted to leave your feet are rooted to the ground.

“Besides,” Oikawa continues, “he was just leaving anyway, weren’t you, Iwa?” It’s almost a purr, the way he speaks, but even the silken words can’t entirely mask the razor sharpness that lies beneath.

Goosebumps prickle along your arms.

Staring at you, Iwa opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but seemingly thinks better of it, snapping it shut with an audible click. He huffs, shaking his head. “Yeah, fine, whatever.”

He spares you another glance on his way out, standing frozen by the hall. For a split second he slows, his scowl softening just a fraction–

“Iwa.”

It sounds like a warning, but he only rolls his eyes and huffs again. You think he’s going to walk out without another word to either of you, but he pauses once more, lingering by the entryway.

“You look a lot like your mother, anyone ever tell you that?”

He’s out the door before you can even think to reply, letting it slam shut in his wake. And you flinch at the harsh sound, something uneasy settling into the pit of your stomach–

“Hey,” Oikawa’s there by your side, his fingers entwining with yours. You hadn’t even heard him move. “Come sit, don’t worry about Iwa. He’ll get over it.”

His voice is soothing, you don’t pay attention to the words themselves, the implications there. You forget for a moment that you’re still in your pj’s, that you really don’t know him that well either, and mindlessly follow when he leads you to the couch and sits you down, taking the seat next to you.

And while your head’s still spinning, an uncomfortable feeling gnawing in the pit of your gut, Oikawa seems entirely unbothered by the turn of events, sighing contentedly as he stretches his long legs out, one arm sliding along the back of the couch behind you.

“Do your… friends usually just drop by like that?”

You don’t know where the words come from, or why that’s the first question on your mind, but when you glance over at him, Oikawa’s just watching you, an odd little half smirk playing on his lips. “Sometimes.”

His answer does little to soothe your unease. It’s really not a big deal, you know it’s not. Officially or not, this is his home too – you’re the one out of place. And if he wants to have people over when your mom’s not around, that’s fine, he can do whatever the hell he wants, but…

You came home for peace. To hide away for a few days and pretend that everything’s just fine and you’re not one breakdown away from shattering entirely. You wanted your mom and the comfort of your old bedroom and safety and it’s fine – great, even – that she’s found somebody who makes her happy, but this– him and the weirdness with his friend and everything is just too much, and–

You don’t realise that your leg’s bouncing until Oikawa’s hand comes to rest on your bare thigh. It’s enough to make your stomach flip, an icy chill trickling down your spine as his thumb slowly strokes across the soft, plush skin. “Relax, cutie,” he coos, chuckling softly when you visibly flinch and squeeze your eyes shut.

“P-please don’t call me that,” you choke out, fighting against the wave of nausea rising up your throat. And it’s just like last time, his cologne, notes of vanilla and cedar and spice, swirling thick and heady around you. That phantom touch, the warmth of hands gripping too tight, unwanted kisses hot and eager against your skin.

“No?” he asks, cruel amusement dripping from his tone. “Why not? I think it suits you, cutie.”

You want him to stop, to push him away, slap him – do anything really, but you’re frozen in place, shaking as the memories you’ve fought so hard to shove down come bubbling back to the surface. You can’t think straight, not with his hand sliding between your thighs, the warmth of his body pressing too closely against yours.

“Iwa was right, you know,” Oikawa murmurs, smoldering brown eyes drinking you in as you childishly shake your head, willing him away. His other hand catches your cheek, drawing your face back to him as tears well in your eyes, stubbornly clinging to your lashes. “She does look so much like you, the same eyes even.”

He whispers it like a secret, nuzzling his nose against yours like a lover would as he sighs sweetly, “It’s the only reason I could stand it.”

And then he’s kissing you, the tenderness of his lips belied by iron fingers digging into your jaw when you whimper and try to wrench yourself free.

It’s not like the nightmares that startle you awake in the middle of the night, gasping for air; hazy, broken recollections that fade the moment you try to reach for them. No, every touch, every moment of his assault passes in stark clarity.

The feel of Oikawa’s mouth as it trails greedily down your neck, his hand sliding under the cotton of your sleep shorts, even his pleased little hum when he realises you’re not wearing panties. “Such a good girl for me. Fuck, I’ve missed this.”

This time there’s no drugs in your system keeping you pliant and helpless, but that doesn’t make a difference. Not when his words echo in your head, playing again and again until every awful, sickening piece falls into place.

Long, nimble fingers stroke at your folds, and you can’t help the shivery gasp that leaves you when the tip of his middle finger sweeps over your clit.

“Please– please don’t do this,” you sniffle.

Oikawa presses another fleeting kiss to your shoulder, “Shh, none of that. Let me help you, baby.”

“N-no, I don’t, I don’t– Stop!”

Knocking away the hands that try to push him back, he hooks his fingers over the hem of your shorts and slides them down your legs, your pitifully weak struggles only making things easier for him. It’s only when Oikawa reaches for his own zipper that panic truly strikes home.

You can’t just lie here and let this happen again. You won’t.

And like a switch flipped, you start to trash like a wild thing beneath him, the scream you’ve kept buried inside of you for months ripping itself free from your throat–

Only for the fingers that had been toying with your pussy to be shoved down your throat, cutting you off with a choked gurgle. As you gag, fruitlessly try to tug yourself free, Oikawa leans in nice and close – except this time there’s no gentleness to his expression, nothing but viciousness as he grins and bares his teeth.

“You wanna yell, pretty girl? Want the neighbours to come running, let them see me fuck you?” He grinds his hips against you, his breath shivery as he pants at the friction of his half hard cock against your side. Nausea twists at your gut, acrid and bitter – you want to be sick, to cry and beg with him to stop but with his fingers still stuffed in your mouth, his thumb digging into the soft underside of your jaw all you can manage is an unintelligible whine. He hums, kissing away the single hot tear that spills down your cheek, “You think if you cry loudly enough, mommy’ll come home and save you?”

And it’s like time stands still as he laughs, cruel eyes glinting when he presses down on your tongue, warm saliva pooling around his digits. “Such a little whore, trying to seduce her poor, innocent boyfriend the very moment her back’s turned. Tell me, cutie,” he coos, “who do you think she’d believe?”

Your breath hitches, another sob catching in your throat – even if you wanted to answer, you can’t and he knows it. “She’s in love with me, you know. It’s almost a little pathetic how easy it was to manipulate her into bed – so lonely… desperate for love, for somebody – anybody – to pay attention to her, take care of her,” he sneers, distaste curling at his lips. “Wouldn’t it just break her fragile little heart to know she’s fallen for the man who raped her baby girl?”

Another garbled cry slips past his fingers and you can only watch in frozen horror as his other hand drifts back to his zipper. “You want to protect her, don’t you?”

His grip relents just enough for you to jerk a shaky nod.

“Pretty girl, so good for me.” Another kiss pressed to your cheek as the quiet hiss of his zipper fills the air around you. “It’ll be our little secret, hmm? She doesn’t need to know just yet, let her be happy a little while longer…”

Sliding down his briefs just far enough for his cock to spring free, he strokes it for a moment with slow, leisurely movements, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he watches your eyes widen.

And when he pulls you forward, guides your mouth towards it, pre-cum beading at the tip, withdrawing his fingers so you can quickly gasp for air, you just… let him.

The fight’s gone, as quickly as it had come.

You let his fingers curl through your hair, use it as an anchor when your lips part to force his cock between them. And he moans, low and shivery as your tongue slides along the underside of his shaft and you try not to gag around the sudden intrusion.

You think that there’s no room left inside of you for shame, but as his other hand creeps back between your legs, teasing at your cunt, you burn with it, clinging to the pyre of your own humiliation and disgust.

And still, you kneel on the couch, letting him fuck your mouth, letting those long, pretty fingers curl up inside of you – moaning around his cock when they stroke that perfect little spot.

“I wanted to – shit – take this slow,” he tells you as his hips jerk upwards, shuddering in breathless delight when his cock hits the back of your throat and it convulses around him. “I wanted to make you want me.”

Wet, messy, gags sound with every unwitting thrust – you’ve no choice but to swallow him down, let him fuck your throat like you’re nothing more than a toy for his pleasure. There’s saliva coating your chin, dripping down the length of his dick, pooling around his balls. You can barely breathe, a task made even harder when Oikawa decides to add his thumb into the mix, teasing your clit while he fucks you apart on his fingers.

It feels so fucking good, and you’ve never hated yourself more.

Your throat burns, hot tears stinging in the corners of your eyes, and yet he’s intent on driving you to the brink of your sanity with every calculated flick of his wrist. Something tightens in your belly, a spring coiled too tight, ready to snap, and you can’t help it when your hips chase his fingers, the needy, shameful little whimpers that leave your lips (still wrapped around his thick, twitching cock) as you search for the pleasure to temper the discomfort.

“You don’t have a clue what you do to me, do you? I could barely sleep last night–”

You choke back a moan, your pussy clenching around his digits, sucking them deeper as white spots pepper your vision and you shudder out a moan.

“So pretty when you cum for me,” he pants, but you don’t care – can’t, not when you’re riding his fingers, tongue lolling out as he gives you a moment’s reprieve to bask in the rippling afterglow of your orgasm before everything comes crashing back down around you.

Oikawa lets you fall back against the cushions, breathless, trembling and dazed. You’re not stupid enough to believe that’s the end of it, not when his cock’s still hard, throbbing against his toned stomach when he gives it a slow, cursory pump.

“Lie back, cutie,” he whispers, keeping his eyes fixed on you as he pushes himself up off the couch to shed the rest of his clothes.

And as you shuffle obediently downwards, heart hammering in your chest, you find you can’t tear your eyes away from him either.

Tall and handsome, she’d said, but the words truly don’t do him justice. A body corded with lean, powerful muscle, golden, sun-kissed skin, a light smattering of dark hair trailing from his navel down past the well defined V of his hips…

“See something you like?” he teases, smirking when you squeak and childishly jerk your face away, cheeks burning. “It’s okay to look, you know. I don’t mind the attention.”

It feels too soft, too intimate for what this is.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. He’s not supposed to be attractive, or to make you enjoy your own assault, and you– you’re supposed to fight it, fight him instead of just lying there and taking it…

But when he climbs back onto the couch, easing your still trembling thighs apart to settle himself between them, his touch is nothing short of reverent, dark eyes wide and adoring as you squirm uneasily beneath him.

With one hand braced on the cushion beside you, his cock resting just above your aching sex, he leans forward, easing your top up past your tits. “Perfect,” he murmurs.

And it’s enough to make a fresh bout of humiliated tears spring to your eyes. Your hands curl into useless fists at your side as he settles back onto his knees and takes his cock in hand, hissing in pleasure when he glides the flushed, leaking head along your slick folds.

“Fuck, cutie. I don’t think I’m gonna last,” he laughs, biting down on his bottom lip as he watches hot, fat tears slip down your cheeks. With an agonisingly slow pace, Oikawa lines himself up with your cunt and presses in – even with how wet you are, one orgasm already wrung from you, the stretch burns and you can’t stop the choked gasp that leaves you.

His eyes flutter shut, head thrown back back as inch by inch his cock sinks into your pussy until finally he bottoms out with a satisfied groan. “Perfect for me, so fucking good,” he pants, and you barely have time to drag in a breath before his hips are drawing back, another desperate, strangled mewl escaping you.

Bruising fingers dig into your waist, Oikawa cursing as your plush little cunt flutters maddeningly around him– before he eagerly slams his cock forward, stuffing you full once more.

And as you sob and whimper between every wet, obscene squelch of his dick fucking into your soaked pussy, that all too familiar, shameful heat begins to pool in your core.

“Gonna cum for me again, cutie?”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere oikawa tooru #yandere oikawa tooru x reader #tw: noncon #tw:dubcon #tw: drugged reader #tw: infidelity #angst #pain #manipulation #fun times ahead

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chateautae · 3 years

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maybe i do | kth. III

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

↳ part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

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

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 17k (im sorry omg)

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

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

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

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

How incredibly wrong that was.

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

“Good. You?”

“Oh, I’m great!” She beamed.

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

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

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

Anything but you.

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

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

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

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

Disappointment.

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

Typical.

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

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

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

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

Your mother.

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

“No mumbling, Y/N. Speak up.”

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

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

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

An argument.

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me? Definition?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me?”

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

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

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

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

You flashed her an incredulous look. “Pardon?”

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

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

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

But this, this was where your mother won.

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

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

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

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

“What did you say to me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not at something as undeserving as your mother.

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

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

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

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

You nodded faintly. “Yeah, so leave.”

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

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

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

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

It was too much, she was too much.

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

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

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

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

Maybe that’s why Taehyung was so warm.

Taehyung.

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

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

And it didn’t work.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taehyung grimaced.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

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

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

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

They simply weren’t.

“Leave my house, this instance.”

“What did you say to me?”

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

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

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

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

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

Taehyung shivered at the thought, shaking it off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t fucking deserve that at all.

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

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

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

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

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

He knew nothing about you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until your last braincell kicked in.

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

And you knew he knew.

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

It was fucking poetic.

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

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

It was odd.

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

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

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

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

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

It couldn’t be real.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he still fucking hated it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t need it. I’ve got myself-”

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

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

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

Especially if it meant him.

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

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

And you really did like the way he smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

Did he just call you pretty?

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

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

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

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

Those fucking eyes.

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

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

And he suppressed a stupid grin.

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

Cute, he thought.

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

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

He was just so beautiful.

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

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

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

“Right.”

It had been a week since that incident.

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

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

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

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

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

“Jheez,” you huffed, “you scared me.”

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

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

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

“Hm?” You looked up.

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

Did the action really have to make his biceps pop?

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

“Wh-what did you just say? Tonight?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, I bought one for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh shit, I have to go.”

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

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

“Yes?”

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

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

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

Your eyes went wide just reading the infamous label.

Chanel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was bordering 6:30 now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You couldn’t stop blushing at all.

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

“I’m in our room!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How could an Adonis like him call you pretty?

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

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

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

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

Peonies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And again, it sent shivers down your spine.

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

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

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

It was probably better to stay silent.

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

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

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

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

“Kiss her!”

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

“Y/N, look at me.”

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

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

And it damn well worked.

Taehyung was right about the size of this gala.

Huge.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He almost felt like the sun.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is his event.” Taehyung informed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was refreshing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What would you say?

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

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

And he oddly felt.. nice.

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

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

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

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

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

Until Taehyung spoke.

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

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

Is this what it feels like to win at life?

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

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

And it only made the men crack up even harder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then why is he here?”

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

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

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

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

“Taehyung, who?”

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

Something was seriously wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, so she talks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because scratch that, it was incredibly hot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tae-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, we’re coming.”

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

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

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

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

“Okay.” He nodded, seeming unbothered.

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

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

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

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

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

He said they were nice.

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

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

And you already felt doomed.

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

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

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

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

“..Yes.” You answered confused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What exactly are you trying to get at?”

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

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

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

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

With a snarky last word.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I said nothing.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing, Taehyung.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, too long!”

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

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

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

“Actually, I didn’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“People are watching?” You inquired.

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

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

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

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

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

He knew it would stay on his mind for weeks.

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

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

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

“You called me Tae, you know.”

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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tags : @thedarkwinterrose @ayujaded @couldbeyourlast @ladyarmanto @anpanman-sonyeondan @apollukee @blueevelvt @taesluttt @scalubera @laurynne5 @dreamsindreamss @thequeen-kat @awsome-small-k @wrecklesssly @kweenhu @jalexad @staerify @bangforever @dyriddle @aianloveseven @waves-and-woods @hoefortaeshands @veronawrites @nightapple4jk @wataemelonz @aomi-nabi @katbonv @hantaev @jinpuddin @usamizuki @wooya1224 @bambuzlee @jenotation @tangledsparkles @pcyxljh @forbts-only @dumplingley @ccmemoirs @kleritata @thelilbutifulthings @maygem2780 @lachimolala95 @betysotelo18 @prettycoolting @opaljm @jeonlovers @honeyboocal @preciouschimine

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

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dragynkeep · 3 years

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i honestly think a lot of the rage towards zuko / zutara stans when we criticize a.ang / k.ataang is because the narrative supports them in not paying attention to these flaws because aang is the good guy & they’re meant to be together so anything that happens in the course of that relationship is essentially padding because of the secured endgame.

zuko is consistently held accountable for the harm he does in the show. he isn’t allowed to just hide behind his age or being traumatized like a.ang is, when zuko does harm, he has to face the consequences of those actions & he does. alongside that, zutara can’t just happen because the writers said so because there is such a history with these two characters that this combined trauma & hurt between them has to be brought to boil & put in the past. both of these things happen continuously through the story & the narrative encourages the watchers to do so, to point out when zuko has done wrong & to support katara when she doesn’t forgive him right away. it supports the watcher in seeing them forgive each other but then says stop, that’s far enough & tries to pretend like it didn’t put in a fair amount of romantic tropes for them.

whereas with a.ang, whenever he does anything wrong, the show has a multitude of excuses to hide behind for him so he never has to change or grow. a.ang hurts katara? he didn’t mean to, he’s new to firebending & sokka is framed as in the wrong for keeping him away, even though katara warned a.ang to not piss about. a.ang kisses katara twice without consent? ah that doesn’t matter, he’s only a kid. who expects him to know about consent, even though he’s apparently old enough to be in a relationship where consent is the first & main thing to matter. why are you hung up on it, the show said it’s fine, look ! katara kissed him back in the finale ! just don’t pay attention to how she told him she wasn’t ready, he never apologised & then they never talk about it again before that big finale kiss though.

& on the subject of katara, in k.ataang, she’s treated pretty much as a goal. it’s a.ang’s goal to be with her & that’s the predestined endgame so really, her agency doesn’t matter. what she wants, doesn’t matter. hence why there’s barely any romantic reciprocation on her end & when she is upset with a.ang, it never lasts. whereas with zuko & zutara, it’s much more of a balanced act & katara is given the agency to be mad at zuko, to hold him accountable for how he hurt her, & they are both allowed to grow.

a.ang doesn’t have to go through half the emotional growth zuko does without things being handed to him on a plate — the solution to defeating ozai — or the selfish actions he takes — choosing not to give up katara with no lasting repercussions — & this is all treated as normal by the narrative & writers. it all becomes why are you picking on this child, ignoring that zuko is not that much older & is just as traumatized as a.ang, or why are you so determined to hate him, when no. people are not determined to hate a.ang, but we do hate the hypocrisy between the way he & zuko are held accountable & how people pitch a bitch fit whenever this is pointed out. because to them, the narrative supports never holding a.ang accountable so neither will they.

zuko & zutara have to work for their fulfilling arcs. a.ang & k.ataang don’t.

#atla #atla critical #aang critical #kataang critical #zuko #katara #pro katara #pro zuko #pro zutara #owl.txt #god ive been dying to get this post out

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hops-hunny · 3 years

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When He Sees Me

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Chubby!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 4.3k

Request: N/A

Summary:(Y/n) always thought she was too rational for love, until she wasn’t. (Based off of the song When He Sees Me from Waitress)

Warnings: Slight negative thoughts and angst but vast majority fluff and pining! Oh and positive use of the word fat.

A/N: Fred is a little OOC in this?? But I honestly just imagine him as the type of guy to be sorta whipped if he really falls for someone.

I stick with real things

Usually facts and figures

When information's in its place

I minimize the guessing game

(Y/n) had always been a rational girl. In her younger years at Hogwarts, as all her friends began to giggle and blush at their crushes, she kept her nose in her books. Although she was curious of what they were experiencing, the thought never lasted long in her mind due to what her mother had told her from a young age.

(Y/n) was about the age of 6, sitting on the floor near the couch as she colored humming to herself softly. She had noticed her mom was in a bad mood due to her being sprawled out on the couch many upon many empty bottles of alcohol littered the table. She wasn’t sure why her mother was so upset but ever since they had seen her father at the park with her babysitter last week her mom had been in this mood and her father hadn’t been back.

“(Y/n) dear, promise me something.” her mother muttered to her half asleep. The girl turned around smiling at her mom. Her mom gave her a weak smile back as she pet the top of the girls head. “Never give your heart to a man. He’ll only leave it in pieces.”

At the time, the girl obviously had no clue what she meant but the older she got and the more she saw the people in her life get their hearts broken time and time again she had developed a clue. So, she simply focused on anything that wasn’t romance. School, plants, knitting, you name it and that’s what she gave her attention to. Even though it wasn’t a conscious action, it still affected her deeply.

I don't like guessing games

Or when I feel things

Before I know the feelings

How am I supposed to operate

If I'm just tossed around by fate?

Like on an unexpected date?

Although her friends described it to her many upon many of times, she still found herself absolutely clueless of what feelings of love was like. That's why when she saw him, she was confused by what was happening.

“Oh he’s simply lovely! He does this funny little things with his hands where-” Although (Y/n) was focused on her coursework, she was still listening to Diane as usual. She liked to listen to her friends retelling of experiences with lovers, soaking it in like a cheesy romance movie. She looked out the window needing a quick break from her work. Her breath hitched quietly as she placed a soft chubby hand over her heart feeling as it raced wildly in the chamber of her chest. Her body had a tingling sensation all over that she had never felt before as she felt herself get dizzy.

“W-who’s that?” she said in an airy tone, causing her friend to follow her gaze. There he stood, laughing and joking around with his friends pushing each other around. His ginger locks blew in the wind slightly and his skin glowed in the soft afternoon sun.

“You mean you don’t know who that is? That’s Fred weasley! He’s like one of the most popular guys in our year. I can’t believe you just asked that.” She snickered some, teasing her friend. She stopped once she noticed the girl who was usually quick to snap back was unusually quiet. She smiled softly at her expression, noticing that look in her eyes. Whether (Y/n) knew it or not yet, she was absolutely enamoured with none other than Fred Weasley.

“I don’t like him. He makes me feel funny.” she said, however the way she looked out the window still said otherwise.

“Funny how?”

“I don’t know, just funny.”

“Like laugh funny or like funny funny?”

“Obviously not laugh funny, are you an idiot?” She asked, glaring at her blonde friend. She looked out the window once more. She noticed him look back causing her to gasp, eyes wide with shock. He winked at her causing her to scoff, pick her things up before shutting the library blinds and run off to who knows where.

Diane laughed to herself as she began to pack her own stuff up to go after her friend. She sighed before running quickly out the library to catch up.

“Ah, young love!”

-------------------------------------

With a stranger who might talk too fast

Or ask me questions about myself

Before I've decided that

He can ask me questions about myself

He might sit too close

Or call the waiter by his first name

Or eat Oreos

But eat the cookie before the cream?

“For the last time Diane, I’m not talking to him!” she said, slamming her book closed as she tossed it on the table in front of her. Her, Diane and a few of her other friends found themselves in the common room as they usually did on friday nights talking and gossiping about anything that came to mind. Today’s topic of discussion was the girl’s apparent “crush” as they called it. Considering she had nothing to base off of whether that’s what the funny feeling she had mentioned earlier in the week was, she decided to trust her friends in them saying that’s what it was.

“What? Oh come on, give me one good reason why you won’t.” Molly said, facing her friend her sharp green eyes boring into (Y/n)’s (e/c) ones.

“Oh I can give you a PLETHORA of reasons why not!” the (y/h/h) girl exclaimed as she stood up. She began to pace, trying to rack her brain for good reasons on why not. “Aha! What if he butters both sides of his toast? Or-or what if he asks me too many questions on why I’m talking to him? Or if he’s as popular and well known as you say, what if he takes that as an excuse to ignore personal space boundaries and gets handsy?”

“He’s a teenage boy, not a serial killer. Someone’s been watching too much muggle crime specials.” Molly said as she rolled her eyes, sighing as she leaned back into the couch. (Y/n) glared at her friend, letting out an exasperated sigh as she facepalmed. It wasn’t like she didn’t wanna do anything about these feelings. She most certainly did. Whatever would get rid of them the quickest is the route she wanted to take.

“Well, you could always let him know another way!” Ronnie said as they looked up at their friend. “You’ve got so many skills and talents, why not take advantage of it?” Although Ronnie wasn’t very talkative, whenever they opened their mouth they always said something that made perfect sense.

“As per usual Ronnie, you’re the voice of reason. Merlin bless Ronnie for all of eternity!” (Y/n) exclaimed dramatically as she got on her knees, pretending to worship her friend like a god.

--------------------------

(Y/n) had been doing just that, making herself known to Fred without making herself known. The (y/h/h) girl had wanted to be anonymous about it, leaving things without her name however Diane pointed out the fact that (Y/n) had “the presence of a ghost” and that “even ghost had more of a presence then her” which meant that even if she did attach her name to the things left Fred would have no idea who it was. Because to be frank (Y/n) was, well, a nobody.

She noticed this little ‘talent’(if you could even call it that) first year when her teachers would mark her as absent despite her being in the front row of the class and having some of the highest marks. She seemed to fly by unnoticed by all but her small group of friends which they all found funny, especially with Diane being one of the most popular girls in their grade if not all of Hogwarts.

So, she started off small. She’d leave little notes for him in places she knew he’d find them, usually his first or last class of the day, and his seat in the great hall. She would watch him as he’d read them, flushing sometimes as he read them. However, his usual response was to read them out loud to George, bragging about how a pretty girl was leaving him notes.

“Ah listen to this one, Georgie! ‘Here’s a quidditch tip for you Fred. I noticed that when you’re on your broom you have a habit of going to the right which is why you often get stopped. Try switching it up sometimes! However, that’s not the only thing I’ve noticed. Somehow despite being in that dorky quidditch outfit, you still look just as fit as usual. Yours truly, (Y/n).’” He smirked at that part, a chorus of ‘ooo’s from his friends.

“Although she may be blind to say that, she does know her quidditch! Sounds like a catch if you ask me. I’m surprised she didn’t go for me, the better twin.” George said, choking on his toast as Fred smacked him on the back of the head.

Diane nudged her friend, glancing at her. She laughed as she saw her friend’s round face buried in a book to hide the overwhelming amount of shyness that was overcoming her. Even though this had become a regular thing, she still couldn’t stop the way her heart would race every time Fred would read one of the letters aloud.

To avoid the notes becoming repetitive, she started to switch it up every once in a while. Baked goods, hand knitted scarfs and gloves, even flowers with meanings behind them made their way into Fred’s ownership. However, the more things he got the more not only him but other people became curious. Who was (Y/n) (L/n)?

But what scares me the most

What scares me the most

Is what if when he sees me, what if he doesn't like it?

What if he runs the other way and I can't hide from it?

What happens then?

If when he knows me, he's only disappointed?

What if I give myself away, to only get it given back?

I couldn't live with that

Molly was currently trying to catch up to her soft friend, a sympathetic look on her face. “Why not? I think you should just go up to him and tell him! So many other girls have tried, claiming to be you.” she said, catching the other girl’s attention. She bumped into her as the (h/c) girl abruptly stopped. She turned to look at her friend with tears in her eyes causing her to look down at her agape.

“Do you wanna know why I haven’t just gone up to him yet? Do you really?” She said above a whisper as she looked up at her tall friend, silent tears making their way down her cheeks. “It scares me. It scares me even fucking more than what I feel for him does. Fred is just so..he’s funny, talented, popular. Who wouldn’t want him?” she choked out, looking away. “What if when he sees me, he doesn’t like me? Whenever he reads my notes or gets one of my gifts he always mentions how beautiful (Y/n) must be.”

“(Y/n)...”

“Let me finish Molly. When he says that, he probably means some tall leggy blonde like Diane. I’m just me.” she lets out a dry chuckle, sniffing as she wipes at the tears streaming. “Sure, I find me beautiful, you guys find me beautiful, but the world doesn’t. I don’t look like anyone he’s ever been with before. Fred is always surrounded by tons of gorgeous women. If he saw me, he’d only be disappointed. If I gave myself to him and he rejected me, I couldn’t live with that. Now I see what my mom was talking about.” she said as she walked off leaving Molly confused by the last part of her statement. She frowned hearing her friend’s words but she knew her better than to chase after her when she was upset. She turned the other way, walking quickly in hopes she’d make it to her lecture not too late. However, a flash of red hair out of the corner of her eye didn’t go unnoticed but it did slip her mind when she saw her friend later.

So, I'm just fine, inside my shell-shaped mind

This way I get the best view

So that when he sees me, I want him to

(Y/n) sat in the library at a table by herself. It was a friday, usually she’d spend this time with her friends in the commons. However, after the never ending pestering to just talk to him, to face him she told them she wasn’t feeling well and that she’d be retiring early. It wasn’t a lie, she had completely planned on getting some much needed rest but as she lay in bed tossing and turning her restlessness turned into frustration leading her to read a bit to clear her mind. Reading was what she enjoyed doing when she wanted to clear her mind or simply escape the insufferable reality she was living in. But after she found herself reading the first line to chapter three 10 times she placed her bookmark between her pages, looking out the window.

It was if the universe was taunting her from the sight in front of her. There he stood, talking to another girl from their year. She couldn’t recall the girls name but it wasn’t that important, she was beautiful. She sighed as Fred laughed at something the girl said, patting her head before walking away. ‘It’s better this way. He can’t see you which means he can’t reject you which means you won’t get hurt’ is what she kept telling herself. However if that was the truth, then why did she feel so empty inside?

-----------------------

(Y/n) laughed along with her friends as they sat in the empty common room. Everyone from their house was Merlin knows where at this time as they all shared their intimate horror stories.

“Oh come on, that did NOT happen.” she said through laughs, eating another chocolate from the box on the table. Her cheeks hurt from the amount she had been laughing. Diane was in the midst of telling what happened during her recent sexual endeavor with some guy from her herbology class.

“I swear he did! His face was green and everything! Next thing I know he was blowing chunks off the side of the bed. I offered to take him to the infirmary but he didn’t hear me through his tears so I just made my exit as swift as possible!” she said laughing as well, face red from how much she had laughed through the telling of the story. They all continued to howl with laughter, someone else’s laughing triggering someone else to laugh even more. (Y/n) was the laugh one left laughing as her friends all began to grow quiet.

“G-guys? Why’d you stop? Who’s next?” she said, looking at Molly who was on her left and Ronnie who was on her right.

“Um, don’t look how (Y/n) but Fred Weasley is coming this way.” Diane said, causing the girl to stop breathing briefly.

“W-what?!” she whispered loudly, eyes growing wide.

“Yeah and um don’t freak out, but he’s looking directly at you. No pressure though!” Molly said, giving her a rough pat on her back as she offered the girl a smile. The (h/c) haired girl glared up at her. As Fred grew closer, their voices grew quieter.

“Why wouldn’t that make me nervous?!” she said through gritted teeth as she pulled on Molly’s curls causing the girl to let out a quick ‘ow!’. She chuckled nervously. “Well, we have nothing to worry about! It’s not like he knows who I am!” she said as she relaxed some, closing her eyes as she leaned back. She heard footsteps stop in front of her causing her eyes to shoot open as she looked at the ground. Huh. Those shoes didn’t look like Ronnie’s shoes. Matter of fact, they didn’t look like Diane’s either. Or Mo- oh no. She looked up, arms folded across her abdomen self consciously as she looked up at the man in front of her. She couldn’t help but take in his appearance.

He was in a white shirt, some spots see through from what she assumed was a mix of sweat and water. His flaming hair was mostly dry but damp in some spots and he adorned a pair of sweatpants that made him look quite godly in her opinion. If she had to guess, he had just gotten back from quidditch practice. It was weird for her to be this close to him intentionally. The only time she found herself close to Fred was when they’d walk past each other in the hall or when their classes would go by each other due to a required location change for the lesson. Therefore she had never been able to see the freckles on his knuckles, the barely noticeable acne scars that adorned his forehead, or even the way his Irish spring’s shower gel smelled oh so heavenly.

“I’ve been all around the castle for weeks, months even. I think the main reason it took me so long was not only the fact that I haven’t really seen you up close before, but all the other birds claiming to be you. It was like that one muggle film, what’s it called? Cinderfeller?” he pondered for a moment looking off.

“I-it’s Cinderella.” Ronnie chimed in, giving him an awkward smile. They were all quite stunned. Although they all knew that this wild goose chase couldn’t go on forever, they didn’t expect it to be Fred of all people to approach first. They were sure (Y/n) would reveal herself on her own time but it seemed that they weren’t the only one’s getting impatient with the girl’s excuses and whys.

“Right, thank you. So I set off, making a list of every girl in our year in the castle- with the help of George and Dean of course- and we spoke to quite literally all of them. It was easy to weed out the fakes because they couldn’t answer questions related to some of the gifts I had received. So by the process of elimination that leaves you, love. Are you (Y/n)?” He said, crouching down to her level. As hues of brown met hues of (e/c) it was much too intimate for the girl to handle. She sat there, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“W-well I am a (Y/n). I’m sure there’s plenty of others in the castle!” she retorted letting out a forced laugh, wiping her sweaty palms on her skirt. Was the common room always this warm?

“If I recall correctly, weren’t you bragging the other day about being the only (Y/n) in the castle? You said and I quot-” a quick stomp of (Y/n)’s foot on Diane’s caused the blonde to quickly stop whatever she was in the middle of saying. Fred looked down at the (h/c) hair girl with a quirked brow and knowing smirk. She was caught red handed. Without another word, he quickly pulled her off the couch with ease, dragging her along with him. She tried protesting and looking at her friends for help but they all simply waved and smiled at her, making kissy faces and noises. ‘Idiots’ she thought as she rolled her eyes. Fred continued to guide her, the path to where they were going looking awfully familiar until they arrived at the astronomy tour.

“Listen Fred, I just wanna say I’m sorry. I know you were probably expecting (Y/n) to be someone who looks like Diane, or hell, even Molly’s dumbass but I’m not. I’m just me.” She began as she walked to the edge, looking off the balcony. “I know now that you’ve seen me you’re probably disappointed. I’ve seen the girls you hang around all the time and they’re bloody gorgeous and-”

“So are you.” he whispered, causing her to whip her head around quickly.

“Pardon?” she responded with glassy eyes. The girl wasn’t too sure why her eyes began to water from three simple words. They weren’t the usual three words that cause or evoke such an emotional response but they felt like the missing piece of a puzzle. Her eyes followed the lanky guy as he walked over to her, tucking a few pieces of hair behind her ear as he interlocked their hands. Long, skinny and defined calloused hands meeting her soft thicker but smaller ones.

“So. Are. You. Beauty is such a fluid thing. There’s no one way to be beautiful, lovely. Museums have many unique and beautiful forms of art and so does life.” He let his hands wander on her sides, gliding up and down her love handles, waist, and hips. He took one of his hands to tilt her head up oh so gently. “If you were a sculpture, you’d be made of the finest of marble by the most talented of sculptors. Hell, if I wasn’t so bloody bad with art I’d sculpt you myself but I don’t think I’d be doing you much justice. It’d be a monstrosity.” he said, shuddering at the idea of him doing anything art related. (Y/n) found herself giggling at that.

“If only you applied this verbiage to your coursework. Perhaps you’d actually be doing decent.” she remarked as she continued to laugh. Fred gasped a bit before joining in as well with his own laughter. As the laughter died down, he lifted a hand caressing her cheek, thumb sweeping across the smooth skin. She found his eyes to see they were filled with adoration. “Fred Weasley, are you whipped for me?” she spoke softly as if she had said it any louder, that he’d simply disappear.

“I have been since the first time I saw you.” He responded, his own cheeks flushing a bit with a light crimson. She looked at him puzzled a bit before her eyes widened slightly.

“You remember that? That was months ago!” she noted. He grinned at that, pulling her closer.

“Of course I do. Imagine my delight when I found out that beautiful girl who slammed the blinds shut on me happened to be the girl my heart was slowly going out to with every note and kind gesture you sent my way. Merlin is definitely on my side. Although I must be honest,” he looked away for a bit before lookin back at her. “The list was a huge help, but I also couldn’t help but overhear your conversation in the hallway that day. However I knew then wasn’t the right time to approach you, I assumed you would’ve just been more upset over the fact I was eavesdropping a bit.” he mumbled. She opened her mouth to question what conversation before she recalled what she had said to Molly that day in the hallway.

“Hearing you speak so lowly about yourself upset me quite a bit. I wanted to plan out what I was going to say a bit more and also make sure it was actually you.”

“I’m sorry you had to hear me say those things about myself. I usually don’t say such things like that, I’m very confident in the way I look. To me, fat and ugly aren’t synonymous but I know everyone isn’t so open minded.” she admitted, dropping her gaze to the ground. “I’m also new to this whole feelings thing. You’re the first guy I’ve ever had feelings for.”

Now, it was Fred’s turn to become speechless. He couldn’t believe his ears, he had the honor, no, the privilege of being the first guy to be such a sublime goddess of a woman? He felt his ears heat up and he knew he had to look absolutely ridiculous. “I don’t blame you, I am one hell of a guy!” He said, flexing his arms as he flashed her a cheeky grin. (Y/n) scoffed some, shoving him away as she rolled her eyes playfully. She pondered for a second before standing on her tippy toes planting a kiss on his cheek...or at least that’s what she had planned. Fred being Fred turned his head last moment wrapping his arms around her waist as he pressed his lips into hers. She gasped softly, chills running up her spine again as her body tensed.

Even this was her first time having a kiss, she could tell this was a feeling she’d be craving nonstop. (Y/n) wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling Fred down to her height. The ginger boy smirked into the kiss, trailing his hands all along her soft frame practically melting at the feeling. His hands snaked their way down to her ass, cupping the pillowy flesh between his large hands causing the (y/h/h) to moan softly. The Gryffindor pulled away, biting and pulling her bottom lip along with him.

“So, I have a question for you then…”He started, pressing his forehead against hers. She felt the warmth of his minty breathe hit her face as she looked into his eyes expectantly. “Do I really have a tendency to go to the right when I play quidditch? Because in my opinio-”

“Fred! Really?!”

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