#Worldwide business owners | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

scarletcomalies · 4 months

Text

soul bounds disentwined

Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

Part II, Part III

Word count: 5,546

Warnings: A little angsty, I guess? And ofc Reader having a crush on Billy's mom not knowing if it's reciprocated.

A/N: This is inspired in Halsey's music video "Colors", if you have watched it, you can see where this is gonna go...

A/N: For plot purposes, let’s suppose Infinity War and subsequent events never happened, and instead, after the Civil War, Wanda decided to quit her life as a superhero.

Wanda Maximoff hired you -a photographer who urgently needed a fresh start- to capture the dishes that would be featured in her second cookbook. Her son, Billy Maximoff, interfered with what you two could have developed. He had feelings for you, and well, you had feelings for his mother.

According to Forbes (2023), Wanda Maximoff secured the third position among the wealthiest chefs worldwide. She is a living proof that we are all capable of rewriting our own story, even after a lifetime shaped by external influences.

Simone Carlisle (Culinary Arts Teacher): Ah, Wanda Maximoff… (pauses) let me tell you, no one prepares you for that feeling, where you find out that you contributed your seed to the plants of successes that one of your students planted in the garden of her life.

Wanda Maximoff (Chef, restaurant chain owner, and television presenter): For as long as I can remember, my decisions were a cycle of revenge and redemption... don't get me wrong, I don't regret beating the shit out of some idiots (laughs), but, with the busy life I led, the only moment I could pause my life was while I was hiding in Scotland with my ex-boyfriend Vision. I had no one expecting anything from me, no one telling me what to do, where to go, it was like a puppy without an owner.

Vision (Avenger, Wanda Maximoff’s ex-partner): Dear, was it a journey. First, I remember that she watched YouTube videos to learn guitar. As soon as she woke up, she grabbed the instrument, and she wasn't satisfied until her fingers got numb. In a very short time, she caught the hang of it, and played for the first time in a small bar. No one knew who she was, and if they did, they probably didn't care. She was just a talented player keeping them entertained. Afterwards, band members fought over who would give her their contact first to join them. I thought that would be the beginning of a very successful music career, because from what I've read, international artists started that way.

Wanda Maximoff: I said, “Vision, I’m never doing this again”.

Vision: She kept practicing, playing in the solitude of her room, of course. It was a hobby-kind-of-passion, not the type of passion she would like to dedicate most of her life to. She went through many of those to realize that her main passion was under her nose all along.

Wanda Maximoff: The courage to join in culinary classes arose from desperation (chuckles), I used to prepare recipes at home, and I needed someone else's approval… it couldn't come from someone who didn't even eat in the first place! And so the beginning of my trayectory was paved by this amazing teacher, Simone Carlisle.

Simone Carlisle: The shy girl who during the intensive course kept her head down, sitting on the back corner, nervously playing with her rings while ignoring whispers and glances from other students, is now in a big framed picture, placed in the most visible spot so that everyone who enters my academy knows that I taught this legend. She made my small business a huge deal now (laughs).

Wanda Maximoff: I never imagined that I would have my own cookbook, television program, or chain of restaurants, let alone all three at the same time! At first, I was content with cooking in a restaurant and earning a decent living, but later, I thought about the possibility of creating a YouTube channel, which subsequently permitted me to finance the publication of my book. Building on the success of my book, the opportunity of my show emerged, which in turn allowed me to open my first restaurant, and ultimately expand it into a chain of restaurants. What I want to convey is that you must trust that the love for what you do is a powerful tool. Success is subjective, so pursue your own concept of it.

Amy Lee (Evanescence’s lead singer and songwriter): It was a hard day of work. I didn’t feel like cooking but I was looking for the homiest, most comforting food possible, and Wanda Maximoff made it a reality with her restaurant located just a few blocks near me. I told my bandmate, Emma, about this amazing food restaurant, she replied, "Oh, the owner has a YouTube channel and a show, you should watch it so that you don't overcook the spaghetti" (laughs). It has been a great help to me ever since, for those are creative but accessible recipes. Plus, it’s a nice touch that she uses her magic to manipulate ingredients and utensils, while making you laugh with her witty jokes. The best way to put it is; she makes you feel like it's a close and sweet friend who is teaching you. Her human and warm approach felt and still feels like a pat on the back.

Wanda Maximoff: My favorite singer since adolescence, Amy Lee, has said something about me that fills me with happiness every time I remember it. She helped me cope, I helped her cook. We're even now.

Vision: You see, Wanda's powers went from being a source of fear in the world to being the main reason why said fear stopped as well. An impressive understanding in her abilities, still doesn't make her an expert, as she can't prevent unexpected situations.

Wanda Maximoff: I was six months pregnant. In the blink of an eye… literally.

The latest legacy of the Maximoff family, twins Billy and Tommy, were effortlessly admitted to the New York University. The dean was left speechless, for their admission exam grades exceeded expectations.

Tony Stark (Avenger, Stark Industries): With Wanda, our initial connection was through business, the Avengers, you know? It wasn't until she asked me if I could offer her kids an internship at Stark Industries that we developed a closer bond, and man, were those kids geniuses!

Wanda Maximoff: Those kids... one day, they'll outgrow me (laughs). They were so eager to rush through life stages, and I thought, "You don't realize I would give everything to relive those joyful years," but I know better than to project my own frustrations on my sons.

Virginia "Pepper" Potts (Stark Industries): One day, I said goodbye to two fourteen-year-old boys. The next day, Happy informed me that some tall adults with raspy voices, claiming to be Billy and Tommy, wanted to come in. I immediately phoned Wanda, and she casually responded, "Oh, yeah, they can do that," as if maturing into college students overnight was a typical Tuesday occurrence for any teenager.

Thomas Maximoff, (Student at New York University, son of Wanda Maximoff): What can I say? (chuckles) school didn't present any intellectual challenges for us, and, yes, they do admit child prodigies for... PhDs even! But, we wanted to blend in, to share the same age as our classmates.

Wanda Maximoff: I always considered it a priority to spend time with my boys, so I put a lot of my work on hold, including my second cookbook project. Now that they're focusing on college and their internship, I've had too much time, and by that I mean too much time to finish that unfinished work.

Wanda Maximoff had completed her second cookbook, in response to numerous requests from her loyal fans. Another book that promised to aid all those who seeked a different, quick, and above all, delicious meal at any time of the day. There was no doubt that it would become a global bestseller, just like her previous one.

All that was left were the illustrative photographs for the book, and the studio where you worked at was in charge of this task.

You meticulously made the first dish she cooked appear as exquisite as in real life. You employed several tools like lighting, background elements, and cutlery placement, but you never altered the food in any way, it didn't even cross your mind to do so. This didn't sit well with your boss, but it certainly pleased the redhead.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N) (Photographer): I remember my boss suggested that I add components to the food to make it look more appealing. I responded that that was the equivalent of encouraging unattainable stereotypes of beauty... in food (chuckles).

Wanda Maximoff: By offering unrealistic references, people would be discouraged to notice that their result was not the same as mine, not knowing that those references have hours of strategy to make it look 'aesthetic'. I prefer to show it as it is (pauses) I think that's why I liked this girl, I didn't have to say a word and she understood everything.

Your boss was the typical man who didn't let newcomers like you progress. Although you had been working in the studio for about six months, he never allowed you to touch a camera, which was contradictory because that was the job you applied for.

You did the work he didn't want to do, like transporting, positioning and removing the equipment, and setting up the scenery. That idiot just did the angles and clicked the top right button, and then took all the credit and praise. It annoyed you, yes, but unlike him, you didn't need praise from anyone to fill your ego, you just wanted to be acknowledged for your own efforts and not to be another person’s side kick.

In the meantime, it was enough satisfaction to know that none of the praise he gets would be possible without you, and he knew it…

… and Wanda knew it.

"What do you think, Miss Maximoff?" Your boss showed Wanda the array of photographs he took of the latest dish. He proudly displayed them, awaiting for a compliment from the redhead.

"Wow, (Y/N), placing the sautéed potatoes in a separate bowl instead of alongside the food within the same dish... you were right, it gives them their own protagonism and importance as a side dish," was the first thing she said, eliciting a small blush from you. "Great work!"

"Thank you, Miss Maximoff," after hearing her words, you experimented a feeling that was somewhat unfamiliar to you. It made you feel visible, truly seen and acknowledged in a workplace that often overlooked such things. And the fact that it came from her, made it all even more so profound.

"It's just Wanda," she corrected you, as if her previous actions weren't enough, she gave you the green light to address her in a more intimate manner. Along with that, your boss was already frustrated enough at not being the center of attention for two and a half hours. It was all a dream!

"(Y/N), we're done here, remove the equipment and take it to my car. I'll be waiting for you for just five minutes," your boss ordered you. Not even a ‘please’, nothing. In his gaze was evident that desperate attempt to look intimidating, which only made him look like a tantruming child. However, when his gaze turned to the older woman, he held an incredible admiration and appreciation, almost as if they were two different people in the same body. "Miss Maximoff, it was a pleasure working with you, truly an honor. We could continue next week...”

"Do you have equipment of your own, (Y/N)?" She interrupted him in mid-sentence, and you hesitated briefly.

"Uh... yes, of course, Miss... I mean, Wanda," you replied.

You worked as a freelance photographer in your spare time, capturing people or events here and there. It was something relatively stable, but it could not be your main income, so you felt the need to work on a studio.

"Perfect... I'll be contacting only you so we can work on the rest of the illustrations for the book," she stated.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N): I couldn't believe what I heard! The first thing I did was begging to whatever force there is that this wasn't a dream. It was overwhelming, the feeling of fear and ecstasy… Wanda wanted ME to work with her.

She recognized something in you within three and a half hours that others failed to see in six months. This was it. This was the big break you had been waiting for, the opportunity to show your skills and make your mark.

That being said, you never saw your boss, or stepped foot in that studio after that.

In the days that followed, you poured your heart and soul into preparing for the upcoming shoots.

You studied Wanda's previous cookbooks, familiarizing yourself with her style, her preferences. You even watched her program and her interviews, initially with the excuse of seeing those mesmerizing eyes and delighting yourself with her beauty, but you actually learned a lot of cooking techniques that you were excited to cook when it was such an annoying task for you to do.

When the day of the shoot finally arrived, you were ready. You set up your equipment with a confidence you had never felt before. You positioned the reflectors so that the natural light would bounce where you needed it, and set the scene to make the food appealing and motivating. Wanda watched you work, her eyes filled with admiration and respect.

You smiled at her as you turned on your camera, “So, what do you do with all this food after I photograph it?” You questioned curiously.

"I pack it, multiply it with my powers, and give it to the homeless," she explained. "It's something I often do, in fact, but I prefer to keep good deeds a secret, and not brag about it," she added. “I would appreciate it if you don’t say anything.”

"I figured that about you," you smiled sympathetically.

"You figured?"

“You have always used your skills to help," you elaborated, and noticed she slightly scrunched her nose, as a way of disagreeing. "Yes, even when you were working for Hydra, Tony Stark was destroying territories left and right, and you were seeking justice, doing what you felt was right," you added, noticing how her face showed an expression of realization. "And now, you focus on helping people who struggle with thinking of a simple but good meal in the midst of a hectic routine, and not so much on showing off how good you are at cooking exotic dishes. So yes, I assumed you would also help those who can't even afford a meal, too.”

Wanda's gaze was lost in the white marble of her kitchen floor, and you knew you gave her a new perspective on the wrongs she had done in her past. She meant well all along, and ultimately, that's what mattered. She was a great person in the present, and that's what mattered.

"So, you're the photographer in question," a tall, curly-haired guy stepped into the kitchen doorway, interrupting the train of thought of the woman in front of you.

You laughed at the expression on her face as reality hit her again.

"Oh, yes. Sweetheart, this is (Y/N)," she introduced you to who you already knew was her son. "And (Y/N), this is my son Billy."

"Nice to meet you, Billy," you replied, approaching him to offer your hand to shake.

"The pleasure is all mine," he emphasized the last words, as he accepted your hand. "My mom didn't mention that you were so beautiful."

Wanda cleared her throat, and proceeded to look at him with surprise in her eyes. In a I-can’t-believe-you-said-that way.

You couldn't help but laugh again at how expressive she was without noticing it.

But in their perspective, from how you looked the other direction and chuckled softly, you seemed to snicker at Billy's flattery, which couldn't be further from the truth. He was corny and predictable, but most importantly, he was not Wanda Maximoff.

"Oh, forgive him, he still doesn't know how to control those sky-high hormones," Wanda said, grabbing Billy's shoulders from behind to guide him out of the kitchen.

You noticed that she was already shorter than her son by a few centimetres. This was nostalgic for any mother, but how must Wanda have felt watching it happen overnight? You were curious.

"No problem," you replied, and headed for the counter to begin photographing.

Billy entered the kitchen again, standing next to you, but not close enough to invade your space, which you thanked internally.

"Do you mind if I watch you work, (Y/N)?" Billy requested, and you smiled politely.

"Billy! Don't you have an internship to go to?" Wanda interfered before you could answer.

"Pepper and Tony organized a party at the tower," he replied victoriously.

"College homework?"

"Piece of cake. I finished it an hour ago."

“How about you enjoy your free time and go bowling with your brother?”

“He’s busy playing Fortnite online,” he shrugged.

Wanda rolled her eyes, "Behave yourself. That's the only condition."

"It's okay, Wanda," you reassured her. Each stage in a child's life is gradual, and parents usually have many years to learn about what each stage entails. It was understandable that Wanda didn't know what to do now that her children were suddenly old enough to drink and get into adult trouble.

"So, (Y/N), how long ago did you start this whole photography gig?" The taller guy spoke up, once you took your first picture.

"I've been doing it since I was thirteen," you replied, still capturing the image in before you at different angles. "Dedicating myself to this? As soon as I turned eighteen. I had a decent portfolio."

"I don't doubt it," he agreed.

You gave him a slight thankful smile, and walked over to Wanda, who was setting up the second dish to be photographed.

"What do you think?"You asked her, and it wasn't until she turned to look at the camera that you noticed that this is the closest you've ever been to her. You could smell her fragrance and hear her breathing. Your mind was screaming at you to move away, for you had no right to display such trust yet, on the contrary, your body needed to be as close as possible... to feel her.

You had never touched her, not even when she greeted you this afternoon. She simply opened her door and let you enter.

"Excellent. The blueberries next to the gluten-free blueberry pancakes are wet,” she commented. “Did you do it to provide a sense of freshness?" She inquired, looking into your eyes this time, and... the charm of her green eyes was incomparable.

Throughout life, you've seen different shades of green, but hers were unique. They seemed to have a whole story to tell, as if she gave them that power. Her eyes glowed with an emerald hue that mesmerized anyone who met her gaze, and you were no exception.

“Exactly, that’s what I did,” you confirmed, and you felt your cheeks burning, which you immediately hid by looking down and walking back to the counter.

The only interactions you had with Wanda were to get her to approve your photographs, since her son didn’t allow you both a second to talk. He didn’t cease to ask you all sorts of questions, and to keep the conversation going, you responded with brief 'and you?'s so that he still felt heard and had the space to reveal details about himself.

It was all natural for you. Your work was also based on creating a liveliness in the environment where you performed, plus you got more genuine reactions from people if you made them laugh and feel comfortable. However, you always ended up talking with whoever was willing to, even if you were not there to capture them.

In fact, you were enjoying the conversation with such a charismatic guy. At first, it felt overwhelming, but just by letting the topics flow, you ended up laughing and feeling more at ease with him. In any case, you would be meeting him more than once in the eight weeks that remained before the project was completed.

Once you had finished photographing the ten dishes for the week, you turned off your camera and put it back in its case.

You were too happy with the results. This was all done by you alone, and you would be recognized for it. Never again would your boss's name appear under the pictures that were all your doing. The moment Wanda sends your photographs to the publisher, your name would appear in the book credits, and so a new story would begin.

And Wanda... oh, Wanda made it so clear that she loved your work, and paid so much attention to detail. Not only did she praise you, but she made it a point to let you know that she had indeed noticed the details that to the average eye would go unnoticed. You didn't know if you were really developing a crush, or if it was just the fact that she was an older woman that satisfied that need for attention that you rarely got... or it could be both.

When you were working on your own, you didn't feel exhausted and drained despite the long working hours, unlike when you were in the studio. You were very grateful that Wanda had given you another opportunity like that, and you were confident that it could become a regular thing.

"Wow, seeing all these dishes without having eaten lunch has really made me hungry," you laughed, proceeding to remove the reflectors from the kitchen’s window. The sky was still clear. You started at a perfect timing to take advantage of natural light.

"You haven't eaten? Look at the time! I thought you had eaten before you came!" She exclaimed. The redhead actually looked concerned. "Do you have any idea of the damage you're doing to your body? You need energy for this kind of work."

"Hey, I wanted to make a joke and you ruined it with your lecture," you protested.

Wanda sighed, and shook her head disapprovingly, which made your heart crumble a little.

“I… I’ll get some food on the way home,” you corrected yourself.

"How about you stay for dinner? I was going to make it, Tommy won't be long before he comes back to the real world and notices he's hungry," she offered kindly.

"Oh! Or I can take you out for dinner somewhere nice!" Billy proposed, smiling at you with anticipation.

To be brutally honest, you wanted to throw yourself at him and choke him so no other words would come out of his mouth. You knew Billy was just a guy with a silly crush, excited to show you how interested he was in you. He wasn't trying to do any harm. But, hell, wasn't it enough for him to be the center of your attention all afternoon?

"I'm really looking forward to trying something made by your mom," you declined in the politest way possible. "Many people would kill for that honor!"

Wanda let out a laugh, and her expression also seemed to change as she heard your decision to stay.

But, oh, Billy, Billy, Billy... as persevering as his mother.

"Awww! Next week she'll cook you something, right mom?" he insisted, and even though the redhead tried hard to keep her smile, her eyes changed.

"Sure, I'll cook whatever you want," Wanda sighed. "Go with Billy, and continue your conversation... alone," the way she said that last word was as if she had felt like the third wheel all afternoon, as if she was a hindrance to whatever was starting between you and Billy.

"You owe me," you said to Wanda, letting her know implicitly that you were looking forward to your meeting next week, not this dinner with Billy.

Billy led you to the garage of his house, and opened the passenger door of a black car. You thanked him politely and got in, allowing him to close the door for you. The car was completely spotless, and had a new car smell, but not because it was new, maybe because that was the fragrance he asked for at the car wash. For yours, you always opted for lavender… which made you wonder, what fragance did Wanda like for her car?

"Any preferences?" Billy asked once he hoped in the driver’s seat, pointing towards the car radio. It was noticeable he was doing his best to make this comfortable for you.

"A little bit of everything, how about rock like... Evanescence?" you proposed.

"Ah, my mom loves them," he commented, and your eyes lit up at that statement.

"You're kidding..."

"Yeah, since her teenage years," he confirmed. "Evanescence, In This Moment, Epica, Lacuna Coil..." he listed, trying to remember them all.

You made a mental note to put on that music on your next meeting with Wanda. It wouldn't be hard, as you loved all the bands he mentioned, which was wonderful.

You couldn't wait to show her the latest bands, ask her her favorite songs, and have a topic of conversation that would allow you to bound...

"So, ready?" he spoke, noticing that you were lost in thought.

"Yeah, sure," you nodded, putting on your seatbelt.

The dinner was... better than you expected. In fact, it was amazing.

You didn't really have anything in common with Billy, but the way you both listened to each other, and always found a middle ground despite going your separate ways, made the experience with him extremely pleasant.

The only difference was that, as you each went home, he thought about seeing you again, and you thought about seeing his mother again.

And so, after a week, you found yourself in front of the door of Wanda's house, with your camera hanging from your neck, your equipment already waiting on the pavement next to your parked car, and as a bonus, a speaker you brought along to play music while you worked.

Alone, at last...

When the door opened, you found the redhead wearing a casual outfit consisting of dark blue jeans and a black half-tucked in blouse. Oh, and her face, how you missed that face.

"Hey..." You greeted her, with palpable enthusiasm.

"Hi," she replied, and noticed the speaker in your hand, arching her eyebrow. "I found out last week that you and I have a lot of bands in common."

Wanda let out a gasp of surprise, "Oh, please do come in!"

You laughed briefly, and as you were about to enter your equipment to take it towards the kitchen, Wanda snapped her fingers, and it disappeared.

"Wanda, what the hell?" You exclaimed, looking at her with your widened eyes, had she just disappeared all your belongings?

"Relax, they're in the kitchen."

"That skill of yours would’ve come in handy last week too," you commented, walking into her house.

"It was fun watching you run in and out," she shrugged. "But today you earned it, because of the music."

"I see, I have to earn it?!" You exclaimed, feigning indignation. Really, she could have pulverized your expensive equipment in front of you, and you'd still thank her.

Once both of you entered the kitchen, your reflectors were already in the same position as always. And on the other side, the ten dishes were already hot and ready to be photographed.

"And what would I possibly have to do next week to earn that help from you?" you asked, resuming the topic you had discussed earlier.

"Mmmm..." she muttered, in a way that almost made you weak in the knees. She watched you from head to toe making you feel exposed to her as if she had ripped your clothes to shreds and left you standing there, naked and at her mercy. But you were still completely covered. "... I think you've earned it,” your reaction alone was enough reward to her.

“Thanks, I guess,” you cleared your throat.

You picked up the speaker, and turned it on, placing it in a place in the kitchen where it would not interfere. Your hands were shaking, and you could have sworn that Wanda was watching you with amusement, while you avoided her gaze at all costs.

You grabbed your phone, and played the playlist you had prepared for this moment. "A Star-Crossed Wasteland" by In This Moment was the first to come on.

"Oh, I love that song like you have no idea," Wanda exclaimed, closing her eyes and frowning as she passionately listened to that intro. "That album, in general..."

"It's in my top three," you commented.

"Hell yeah! Now we're talking!" She exclaimed, raising her hand offering you a high-five.

"I'm not that old school," you shook your head, chuckling.

Wanda rolled her eyes, and took your wrist, giving herself a high five with your hand.

"Good girl," she praised you, and you swallowed dryly. At the words, and at the fact that this was the first time you'd ever touched her. "What's your top three?" she asked, acting so nonchalantly after flustering the hell out of you.

“Tell me yours first,” you proposed. You couldn’t even think of your favorite three albums of one of your favorite bands.

"Black Widow, GODMODE, and A Star-Crossed Wasteland, she answered, almost without thinking. It amused you to imagine she'd spent her whole life for someone to ask her that question. "And yours?"

"Black Widow is my favorite, too," you agreed. "Blood, and A Star-Crossed Wasteland."

"Oh, two in common and in the same position," she pointed out, smiling. "If the new album hadn't been so good, it would agree with Blood, too…”

For the rest of the evening, the focus was on your favorite bands, as they played in the background.

You finished faster than last week, as Wanda was willing to use her powers for you to just arrange the background and take the pictures, instead of searching in every corner of the kitchen - you only had to ask, and it appeared.

“Alright, we're done...” she concluded, excited. “Now, let me pack this food and put it in the fridge,” and with a snap of her fingers, it was already packed and subsequently perfectly placed inside the fridge.

“Impressive,” you exclaimed, not ceasing to show your admiration, just like every time she used her powers. If you didn't look so cute, Wanda would have grown irritated at you a long time ago.

“Now, I owe you a dinner,” she said. She never told you, but she was so eager to finish quickly because that way, when her sons returned from the internship, you and her would have spent a significant time together.

The food Wanda made for you was... you didn’t even believe that the accurate word to describe it even existed.

The sensations you experimented had you mindlessly closing your eyes, trying to memorize this magnificent meal, absorbing it all in. You had tried a lot of different restaurants and foods, but none like this, oh they wished they were even close to what you tasted.

This was more than just eating. It was a demonstration of peak exquisite cuisine. This was about more than just sating hunger. It was about the delight of tasting food prepared with passion.

And... just as Wanda was leading you out of the door, you noticed that it opened, and you met who you knew was Tommy.

"Oh, finally I have the pleasure to meet the famous (Y/N)," was the first thing he said. So Wanda... "Billy hasn't shut up about you."

You forced a smile, "That's... nice," you hesitated. "I have a feeling he's going to be a great friend, and I hope you are too."

Tommy noted the intent of your response but decided to reply, "Of course," with a small chuckle. "In fact, you should come play tennis with us next Saturday."

"Oh, I don't know how to..."

"I'll teach you," Wanda quickly interjected, and that hope in her eyes made your decision easier in an instant.

"Well... will you send me the address?" I asked.

"Rest assured."

When you said goodbye to Wanda and Tommy, Billy was climbing the steps to the doorway, and he smiled broadly at you.

"Hi, (Y/N)!" He exclaimed happily. "Have you eaten yet? If not, we can go eat something and catch up."

Oh, how kind he was...

"Thank you, your mom and I already had dinner."

It was Saturday, and you were walking around the room in your apartment. Your best friend, Kate, was already starting to get dizzy.

"Kate! It's a country club!" You exclaimed, for probably the twentieth time. "People there probably eat pizza with silverware, and know the use of all ten thousand kinds of forks. I won't fit in..."

"It's just a tennis game! I'd understand if it was golf, but tennis?! You'll be fine!" She groaned.

"I look ridiculous..." you shook your head, looking at yourself in the mirror. "I mean, what is this cap? And why all white? Am I getting baptized or something?"

"Hey! Do you want to fit in? This is the outfit," she countered. "You look hot, surely Wanda will drool over you when she sees those legs," she cheered you up

"Surely it will be Billy," you sighed, disappointed.

"Wanda too, from what you've told me..."

"No, this is one of the situations where I'm misinterpreting a hint of validation from an older, beautiful woman," you quickly denied. "And as always, my best friend is encouraging my delusions."

"Really? Name one situation."

"That Italian woman who I photographed with her family for several Christmas sessions?"

"Ha! She looked at you funny."

"Yeah, that's why she turned down my invitation to dinner when I finally found the courage, saying I knew she had a husband and kids."

"Uhm... she refused just because she had a husband and kids, not because she didn't like you!" She quickly justified, and you couldn't help but laugh, forgetting for a moment the nerves that were eating at you.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wandavision #marvel

701 notes · View notes

is-the-thing-actually-jewish · 10 months

Note

the mensch on a bench has always made me curious (and it feels somewhat suspicious) … so what’s the deal with it?

Rating: Jewish (Cultural Christianity Influenced)

"Mensch" is a Yiddish word literally meaning "guy" but in practice used to mean "a decent, upstanding, reliable human".

"Bench" is an English word referring to a long seat with room for multiple people, found worldwide and used by people of all religions.

I will freely admit that prior to researching this ask, I had assumed that Mensch on a Bench toys were a classic example of companies repackaging Christmas stuff to benefit from the Jewish market share without any real engagement with Jewish values, but the original designer and owner of the company is a Jewish man named Neal Hoffman. According to interviews with him, he had the idea when his son asked for an Elf on the Shelf and he said "No, we're Jewish, you can have a Mensch on a Bench instead" and then went home and designed one, eventually getting funding from Shark Tank to develop the business. The toy is accompanied by a children's book about Moshe the Mensch making kind choices, and there are other toys in the "Mensch" family one can purchase, including the delightful "Mitzvah Moose" whose antlers are branches of a menorah.

As always, mileage may vary greatly among Jews when it comes to how individuals feel about the brand, but it is genuinely Jewish.

#jumblr #actually jewish #mensch on a bench #mitzvah moose #capitalism

868 notes · View notes

jenoroyals · 6 months

Text

Monster In Hiding - Lee Jeno

pairing : jeno x fem!reader

synopsis : Growing up as an only child, you never shared your toys and always got what you want. This time, the toy that you don't want to share is Lee Jeno.

word count : 6.8K words

content/warnings : stalker au!, drugging, drinking, obsessive beahvoir, cursing, sexual content, fliming sexual activities, etc.

featuring : chaewon (leseraffim), sungchan (riize), giselle (aespa), karina (aespa), haechan (nct), jaemin (nct), mark (nct), namjoon (bts)

You stared at him from a distance. The way his hair fell perfectly into place, the way his lips curled up halfway to form a smirk while talking to his friends, the way his big hands wrapped around the glass containing some type of champagne.

“Yn.” Giselle snaps you from your daze.

“What?” You softly mutter and turn towards her.

“I said your parents are walking over here.” She repeats and nudges her head in the direction of your parents.

“Sweetie.” Your father says while stopping just behind your chair.

“Yes, dad?” You ask with a fake innocent smile plastered.

“It’s almost time to go up on stage, come on.” Your mother says while grabbing your arm to help pull you up.

Your father inherited Starlight, a business that your ancestors started up, after your grandfather died last year. Right now, your family is considered one of the wealthiest families worldwide, which leads to lots of business parties every week.

This time however, your father was announcing his new business partner, Lee Ji-hun. He was the owner and CEO of Tradezen, a wholesale business.

You sweetly smile at your parents before following them to the stage. As you stood there, you ran your hands down the sides of your red skin tight dress and flashed a smile through your pearly white teeth. Your eyes go straight towards his direction.

He was sitting with his friends, laughing about something one of them said. Your father began his speech, going on and on about things that you couldn’t care less about. It wasn’t until he called Mr. Lee over when you started paying attention to his speech.

“Starlight’s newest partner, Tradezen! Mr. Lee, please, come up here and introduce yourself. You bit back a smile watching him slowly walk on the stage. You gently held your hand out to shake his with a big smile on your face.

“Thank you for the introduction, Mr. Ln. Hello, everyone. As you know this will be my last project before my son, Jeno, takes over as the official CEO of Tradezen. I’m so honored to be able to partner up with Starlight and Mr. Ln. Enjoy yourselves!” Mr. Lee says and raises his glass coins everyone to as well before taking a sip.

After finishing, you walked back over to your table with your friends. You quickly sneaked a glance over to him but he was nowhere to be found. Pouting, you sat down with your friends who noticed the look on your face.

“What’s wrong Yn?” Sungchan asks worriedly but you wave him off with a smile.

“My feet just hurt from the heels, nothing to worry about.” You say with a smile prompting Sungchan to return to his conversation with Chaewon.

As the night went on, you grew more and more disappointed when he was nowhere in sight. Having enough, you bid farewell to your friends before walking out and into the limo with your “driver,” Kim Namjoon.

As soon as you sit down in the limo, he hands you several photographs. You take it from him with a smile before observing the photo. The first one shows him and an unknown girl, her pack pressed against the wall while his arms wrapped around her frame, their lips connected.

You scoff amusingly before looking at the next photo. The girl, whom you recognize as Karina, gets into his limo while he holds the door open for her. Smiling, you look at the last photo. Their hands were interlocked as they walked into one of the hotels that his father owns.

Letting out an amused chuckle, you hand the photographs back to Namjoon. However, you keep the one where they’re kissing in your hands while gently running your finger over his face in the photograph.

“Let’s go, Joonie.” You say sweetly, looking out the window.

“Yes, ma’am.” He replies and starts to drive off to your family mansion.

Arriving at the mansion, Namjoon gets out first before opening the door and holding out his arm for you to take. Your hand goes to wrap around his arm before stepping out and inside the mansion.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Joonie. Tell my parents I’m sleeping if they ask for me.” You say and he gently nods at you with a wink before you walk into the secret room that you had built when your parents were in Hong Kong.

You grab the key from around your neck and gently shove it into the door knob before opening it and locking it after. Walking closer to the board, you turn the switch on. The small room is adorned with white walls with nothing but a board, a table, and a chair.

Jeno’s face front and center in the middle of the board. You smile, observing the board. Different photos and articles of him decorate the board with comments in your own handwriting.

You’ve always had a crazy attraction towards the said man. His dashing looks, his body that was sculpted by the gods themselves. Growing up, you always got what you wanted, and Lee Jeno was the thing you wanted right now.

You look at the photo in your hand again before placing it on the table. Ripping a piece of tape, you stick it onto the picture before attaching it onto the board. Looking over, the lists of names catch your attention. Yeeun, Yuna, Bella, Daisy, Ning Ning, Isa, and many more. Smirking, you pull out a permanent marker from the table and start writing the name.

In big black bold letters, ‘KARINA’ stares back up at you. You smile while looking at her name before running your pointer finger across it. Your eyes go back up to his picture in the center and gently, you caress his face. Your lipstick stain kisses all around him.

“Soon, my love.” You say and smirk while placing a soft kiss on the picture.

A bright red mark of your lips appears and you smile. Sitting down on the chair, you observe your masterpiece. Recalling each time you came in here and added every piece onto the board. Photos of him in the park, at his office, outside his window, and even when he’s just sitting in a cafe doing homework.

The articles of him bringing different women home or checking into hotels with mysterious women bring your lips to a smile before you frown. Uncapping your marker, you go to write another comment. ‘Why not me?’

“You can’t hide from me.” You say softly to the picture before switching the light off and walking up the gigantic stairs and into your room to get ready for bed.

It was a cold snowy day, but you didn’t let that stop you from wearing your shortest uniform to school. Instead, you wore black thigh high socks to help keep the breeze away. You paired your brown plaid miniskirt with a white blouse and tied a bow into the collar of it, the print matching your skirt.

Your black uniform jacket hanging off your shoulders, not bothering to button it up. Your makeup was applied perfectly and you decided to tie a white ribbon into a bow in your hair that day.

“Joonie, you can drop me off right here.” You say to him.

“Yes ma’am. Have fun at school Yn.” He says sweetly and you place a quick kiss to his cheek before stepping out of the limo.

You attended a private school for the elite families in South Korea. It was known as the “Golden Star” across all of the high schools in South Korea. Only the wealthiest families sent their students to that school, and others if they were lucky enough to get a scholarship, like Karina.

Limos all piled up in the parking lot, dropping off their masters’ children. You knew Jeno was going to be in the front of the school, waiting for his friends. Putting a shy smile on your face, you walked a little faster hoping to “accidentally” bump into him.

Just as your luck would have it, someone pushes you and you quickly bump into him. His arms go around your waist to help stabilize you. You tuck your chin in and smile before looking up at him.

“I’m sorry, someone accidentally bumped into me.” You say sweetly and he softly smiles at you.

“It’s alright.” He says, letting go of you and dropping down to his knees to pick up your notebook.

You hold back a smirk watching him pick up your notebook while kneeling down. If only he knew what the sight in front of you was offing to you. You softly grab your notebook from him and smile sweetly again, showing off your pearly whites before bidding him farewell and walking to Sungchan and Chaewon.

“Good morning.” You beam towards them and they flash you a smile while Chaewon comes to wrap her arms around you.

“It’s so cold, Yn.” SHe lightly scolds and wraps her arms tighter around your figure.

“It’s alright Chae. We’re going to be inside the whole day anyway since it’s snowing.” You say and she nods while letting go of you.

“We still have some time before first class, should we go grab coffee from the canteen after Giselle gets here?” Sungchan suggests and you nod along with Chaewon.

During lunch, you and your friends sat in the canteen while eating lunch. You were too lost in your thoughts but his name being said makes you perk up.

“I heard Jeno fucks like an animal.” Giselle says and you look over to her.

“How do you know?” You ask while taking a sip of your water.

“Karina. She’s in my psych class and apparently after the party last night, she left with him.” Giselle says with a smirk and you have to bite down on your tongue to keep your mouth shut.

“The things I’d let him do to me.” She continues with a sigh.

“No way! Jamein is definitely more my type.” Chaewon says and looks over at him.

His bright pink hair stood out against his friend group but all you could focus on was his best friend. His black hair was pushed up, showing off his forehead. His white button up was so tight, you could practically see his muscles bulging out, almost as if they were trying to escape from the tight material.

“What about you Yn?” Giselle asks and you turn to look at them before smiling sweetly.

“I don’t know, they’re all handsome.” You say and they both look at you with a raise of their eyebrows.

“What about Haechan? Don’t you sit next to him in English Literature?” Chaewon asks while looking at him.

You nod your head at her and go back to eating your food. Giselle’s words never leave your mind. Fucks like an animal huh? You smirk quickly thinking about it before replacing it with a smile again. The bell rings indicating that lunch is over and you go to throw your trash away.

Bidding farewell to your friends, you walk to English Literature and already see Haechan sitting there. He smiles at you and waves.

“Hi Yn! How’s your day so far?” He asks when you sit down next to him.

“It’s been good Hyuck, how’s yours been?” You ask and take a piece of candy from your bag to give to him.

“It’s been good too. But, it’s a bit cold outside right? Why is your skirt so short?” He replies while unwrapping the piece of candy before shoving it into his mouth.

You couldn’t tell him that you wore it for Jeno so you racked up your brain trying to find an excuse. Noticing your quietness, he nudges your shoulder, pushing for an answer.

“Is it for a boy?” He asks teasingly, leaning his head onto his hand to get a good look at you.

You shyly smile before shaking your head.

“No it’s not. I just couldn’t find the one I normally wear.” You say and he nods his head at your answer.

You exhale softly, proud of yourself for finding a believable lie. You take out your notebook, the same way that dropped when you bumped into Jeno, and begin to take notes as your teacher starts talking about a new topic.

Haechan’s eyes go to your notebook and he squints them, trying to read your plans after school. Unfortunately you turn to the next page and he misses it. He groans softly before writing his own notes.

Once the teacher was done, she gave you guys free time to work on homework due next week. Haechan turns to look at you and you turn to look at him as well.

“Do you have any plans today?” He asks and you shake your head no.

“Probably just going to be studying for exams.” You softly reply.

“Oh, well if you get bored, you should come clubbing with me tonight. A bunch of my friends are going and you can bring your friends too!” Haechan says and you widen your eyes.

Clubbing with his friends, as in clubbing with Jeno. You smile softly and turn to look over at him again.

“I’ll text you if I come.” You say and he smirks.

“We’re going to that new nightclub Mark’s dad opened up. It’s called DREAM.” He says and you smile at him once again.

After school, you got inside the limo and saw Namjoon with a smile.

“Where’s he going?” You ask and Namjoon secretly smiles before handing you a piece of paper.

Opening it up, you read ‘Latte World,’ your favorite coffee shop. Smiling, you place the piece of paper in your backpack and thank him.

“Before I forget…” You say and pull out a band of money.

“Here you go.” You finish and hand it to him who gently shakes his head.

“Yn, I don’t do this for money, I do this because you’re like a sister to me.” He says.

Namjoon has worked for your family since he was young. His father was your father’s driver and the two of them grew to be best friends. Unfortunately, his father died after a drunk driving accident. It crushed your family seeing Namjoon lose his only parent so your father took him in and gave him a job for life.

“Just take it Joonie. You’re risking your life by following him.” You say and put the band of cash in his suit pocket before sitting back down and putting on your seatbelt.

Sitting at the table near Jeno and Karina, you secretly smirk while pretending to look through your notes. Every so often, you glance up at them and see his hands pushing her hair behind her ear, or their laughter mixing together, or the way she touches his bicep.

All of it pisses you off to the core. The jealousy in you bubbling up so high you could almost walk over there and just claim your man. He was yours and only yours. Your hands grip your skirt tightly while you clench your jaw.

You try to focus your attention onto the papers in front of you but you can't. The emotions running too high within you. You softly clear your throat and sit up straight. Noticing that they were both too lost in their own world, you pull out your phone and snap a quick picture of him.

After getting it, you turn down your brightness and bring your phone closer to you. His beautiful eyes that crinkle into crescent moons are what you focus on first. Smiling, you go down to his lips and zoom in. His perfect and kissable lips. They’re so pink and pretty.

Dropping your smile. You shut off your phone and begin packing up your things. Namjoon was waiting for you in the parking lot, full intent on following Jeno when he leaves. Walking up to the black small car, you get in and Namjoon hands you a pair of sunglasses.

“Did you put the air tag on his car?” You ask and Namjoon laughs at your question.

“Of course I did.” He says and you laugh softly.

“He’s not gonna know what hit him.” You say with a smirk.

Another twenty minutes go by before Jeno and Karina are walking out of the coffee shop. You watch as Karina gets into an unknown car. Furrowing your eyebrows, you look at Jeno getting into his car alone.

“Where’s he going?” You ask and Namjoon shakes his head.

“Maybe another girl?” He suggests and you narrow your eyes at his car that starts to pull out from the parking lot.

“Follow him.” You say and Namjoon complies.

Following Jeno's Porsche, you try to see where he’s going but the streets are unfamiliar to you. It’s not until you see two big palm trees that you realize where he's going.

“He better not be going to Giselle’s mansion.” You say out loud with a scowl.

Sure enough, he parks outside her gate and waits for her to come out. Your heart was beating 1000 beats per minute, it felt like it was going to burst. You see her walk out the house in the tiniest dark blue dress you have ever seen.

You scowl and huff out a breath of air.

“That fuckin bitch!” You say out loud and Namjoon chuckles at your outburst.

“Don't worry, we’ll still follow through with the plan.” He says and you nod your head at his words.

Now you really had to go clubbing with them. You had to keep an eye out for your man. Feeling your anger rise, you text in the groupchat with Chewon and Giselels and tell them to meet up at DREAM Nightclub tonight.

You knew that Giselle wasn't going to look at her phone while she was getting dick downed by Jeno but you wanted evidence when you came face to face with her at the club.

You walked in the club hand in hand with Chaewon. You were wearing a black mini dress that showed off your curves perfectly and a pair of black strappy heels. Feeling a sense of confidence, you drag her towards Haechan who smiles brightly at you.

“Yn! You made it!” He yells excitedly and you nod your head.

“Of course!” You yell back and look at Giselle who's standing next to Jeno.

Her eyes widen in surprise and she smiles awkwardly.

“Yn! Chae! What are you guys doing here?” She asks through gritted teeth and you hold back the urge to roll your eyes.

Faking a smile you grab her arm. “Hyuck invited me and said I could invite my friends. I texted in the group chat but you didn’t reply.” You fake a pout.

She chuckles awkwardly. “Oh, I got busy.” She says and you nod your head at her mockingly.

“I’m sure you were.” You say hoping it didn’t come off as condescending.

“Drinks on me!” Mark yells and everyone cheers.

You drop Giselle’s arm and link them with Chaewon before following Mark to drink. Namjoon poured shots for you guys and you downed it before asking for a mixed drink. He hands you your drink and you smirk at him while he does the same.

Throughout the night, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of your best friend and the man who you’ve been obsessed with since the beginning of time. They were dancing together, acting like no one was around. You let out another scoff and took a sip of your 4th drink that night.

Her hips were grinding against his while her hands ran through his hair. You scowled watching them and slurped up the rest of your drink before grabbing Chaewon.

“I don’t feel good.” You lie and she looks at you worriedly.

“Oh no. Are you okay?” She asks while grabbing your arms.

You shake your head no and look at her. “I think I need to go home.” You say and she nods her head.

She interlocks her hands with yours and drags you towards Haechan to bid farewell before walking out of the nightclub. Before walking out, you give a signal to Namjoon who nods his head before going back to make drinks. She walks you to your car before opening it and helping you get inside.

“Feel better Yn.” She says and you smile at her before she shuts the door.

Right as the door closes you sit up and hit your hands against the leather seats.

“I hate her! I hate her!” You scream while hitting the seats even harder.

“She’s such a bitch. She knew what she was doing too.” You say out loud to no one in particular.

Namjoon was still inside pretending to be a bartender. You sighed loudly and waited for him to get in the car. Pulling out your phone, you go to Instagram and see that Giselle posted a picture. You click on it and see that it's a photo of her and Jeno at the club. She was on his lap and smiling so brightly. Angrily, you throw your phone across the limo and clench the bottom of your dress.

“All this work and effort that I put into him and he gives me nothing! Nothing!” You rant to yourself and pull at your hair softly.

Just then the car unlocks and you look out the window. Namjoon was carrying Jeno on his shoulders as he opened the trunk of the car. Smirking, you walk out of the car and pull open the trunk. Namjoon slowly lays Jeno’s unconscious body into the trunk and you smirk at him.

Gently, you caress his cheek before placing a soft kiss on it. Your lipstick transferring onto there.

“Sit tight, my love.” You whisper quietly before closing the truck and walking back into the limo.

“Anything I can get for you sir?” Namjoon asks, looking at Jeno and Giselle.

“Uh, just whiskey on the rocks please.” Jeno replies and he smiles at him.

“Sure thing, son.” He says before turning around to make Jeno’s drink.

Slowly, he pulls out the drug that he managed to get his hands on. He crushes it up silently before slipping the full tab into Jeno’s drink. He slowly stirs the drink making the drug dissolve into smaller pieces.

Satisfied, he hands the drink to Jeno who thanks him before walking off with Giselle back to their table. Namjoon watches as Jeno slowly sips on the drink. He smirks while walking to the bathroom, changing into his suit.

Once he finished, he noticed that Jeno was slumped over the table all alone. He scanned around the room, finding his friends on the dance floor and Giselle dancing with Mark. Smiling, he walks over to Jeno and gently lifts him.

Thankfully the club was so dark that no one even batted an eye at him. He quickly walks through the back door and towards the limo.

“Time to wake up, my love.” Jeno hears and slowly blinks his eyes open.

He tries to move his hands but they’re tied behind his back. He groans and tries to speak but before he could, you place a piece of tape to his mouth.

“Finally.” You say and place yourself on his lap, sitting right on his cock.

“Do you know how long I’ve pined for you, my love?” You ask and gently caress his face in your hands.

Jeno lets a tear slip from his eyes and you coo while wiping it.

“Don’t cry, my love.” You say and gently continue wiping at his eyes.

“Everything is going to be okay, I promise.” You say and his eyes narrow at yours.

“Don't be upset, my love. I just wanted to be with you. Don’t you know that I love you?” You ask, looking at him with your doe eyes.

“It hurt me so bad when I had to hear about other girls talking about you.” You say and trace his facial features with your finger.

“I was thinking ‘Why not me?’ the whole time.” You get up from his lap and turn his chair around to face the board.

You rip the list of names from the board and walk closer to him. You flip the paper around to show him and his eyes widen.

“Yeeun. She was a bit older wasn’t she?” You ask and tilt your head to the side mockingly.

“Next was Yuna, right? She’s pretty.” You comment walking around in a circle around him.

As you go down the list, you make teasing remarks against each and everyone one of them.

“And finally, Karina.” You say staring into his eyes.

“If I recall correctly, you guys hooked up after my father’s party last week.” You finish and sit down on his lap again.

“Was she good?” You ask and he hardens his gaze at you.

“You don’t want to answer me? Fine.” You say and look him in the eyes.

“She had a lot to say about you though. Said you fucked like an animal.” You confess and start grinding your hips softly against his.

He lets out a soft groan that's muffled and you smirk before stopping.

“Oh! It’s missing something.” You say and get off of his lap.

You grab the marker from before and look at him. “My best friend’s name.” You say and remove the cap from the marker.

You write her name quickly before putting the cap back on the marker. You tape the piece of paper back onto the wall and turn to look at him. You smile at him and then look at the marker. Angrily, you threw the marker at him and it bounced off his chest.

“Have fun sleeping tonight.” You say with a smirk before taking a step away from him.

Before you could get further away from him, his hands went to your waist and pulled you down onto his lap again.

“Jeno!” You exclaim and try to get up from him but he just smirks and holds you against him tighter.

“You should’ve tied these better, baby. I slipped out of them 10 minutes ago.” He says and you widen your eyes.

“Jeno let go of me!” You yell and try to push him off but he holds your hands against his chest, locking them in place.

“What’s wrong baby? You scared? You were so confident earlier.” He teases and tilts his head to the side, mocking you.

“Jeno.” You whine and he hums in amusement bringing his face closer to yours.

“You really think we accidentally bumped into each other?” He asks and you furrow your brows questioningly at him.

“Hyuck, she arrives at school at 7:15 everyday at the North entrance. I need you to bump into her so that she bumps into me.” Jeno says and Hyuck laughs.

“Listen, I know you’re like obsessed with her but just go fuckin talk to her man. You know, like a normal human being.” Haechan says and Jeno glares at him.

“Shut the fuck up and just do what I say.” Jeno growls before pushing Haechan away softly and walking out of his house.

“Giselle huh?” Jeno asks with a smirk, looking over the file.

“Yes. Giselle is her best friend who’s also close to Karina. Now, Karina has a big ass mouth. If you fuck her she’ll for sure tell Giselle who will go running to tell Yn.” Haechan says and Jeno smiles amusingly.

“Perfect.” Jeno says and gets up to walk to the corner of the room.

A shrine exactly like Yn’s was placed there. Her photos and articles spread out everywhere. Jeno admires his artwork with a smile on his face while Hachan shakes his head and leaves.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m coming for you.” He says and traces your face in the photo before smiling again.

Taking the drink from Namjoon, he smirks. He lets go of Giselle and hands his drink to Haechan who only smirks as well. Haechan looks up at the taller boy with a nod and he chuckles amusingly.

“Game on.” Jeno whispers to himself and smirks.

“I kept tabs on you too, baby.” He smirks and your eyes widen in realization.

Jeno orchestrated everything by using Haechan. He planted your desk near Haechan and he planted using Karina and Giselle to make you act out.

“I knew I was obsessed with you, baby. But, you. You’re fuckin crazy. Keeping tabs on all my hook ups and shit. Were you jealous?” He whispers and you stay silent.

This wasn’t what you planned. How the fuck did he even get loose. Instead of him being trapped, you are. You fell right into his fuckin trap just like he wanted. You were terrified of what he might do to you. Never in a million years did you think the sweet man in front of you was able to spew such words from his mouth.

“Namjoon!” You try screaming but Jeno shushes you by bringing his forehead closer to yours.

“He won’t hear you, baby. Hyuck already knocked him out cold.” Jeno says and chuckles at your reaction.

“Isn’t this what you wanted, baby?” He asks and hums when you don't answer.

He bounces his knees up and down, trying to shake an answer out from you. You don't want him to get the satisfaction though, choosing to keep your mouth shut.

He lets go of your hands and wraps them around his neck. He slowly rolls your hips against his and you bite your lip to contain the sounds begging to come out. His hands run up and down your sides and he places his lips on your neck.

“I’ve dreamed of this for so long, baby.” He whispers into your neck and you mewl at his words.

He smirks and pushes up your dress to expose your black lacy panties. He sucks on your neck and starts leaving his mark all over you. You moan and pull at his hair.

“Jeno.” You moan and grip his hair tighter.

He chuckles and pulls away from your neck to look at your blown out eyes. Feeling shy, you shut them but his big hand wraps around your neck and squeezes.

“Look at me, baby.” He growls and you open your eyes at his harsh tone.

He lets go of your neck and brings his hands back to your hips before pushing you off of him. His jeans were damp from how wet you were.

“You’re such a fuckin slut.” He growls and pulls you down to your knees.

“Take my cock out and suck it like the good girl I know you are.” He says and you start to shake from his use of words.

He was being mean and you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes.

“No.” You softly say and he growls before bringing your face to his.

His fingers hold a death grip on your face and he pushes your cheeks in.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” He questions and you whine from the pain.

“Hurts.” You try to mumble out and he just laughs.

“When I tell you to do something, you fuckin do it, whore.” He says and pushes your face away harshly.

You finally let the tears fall down your cheeks and you try to inhale a deep breath but Jeno was quicker. He grabs your arm and pulls your face to his clothed cock, pushing your cheek against him and holding you there.

You whine out at him and try to push yourself off but he's stronger.

“Jeno, m’ sorry.” You say and he laughs at you again before letting go.

“Need to fuck that nasty mouth of yours.” He says and undoes his jeans before lifting his hips up to slide them off, leaving him in his boxers.

You whine and try to crawl away from him but he grabs your hips and pulls you back to him. You scream when you feel him set you right on top of his aching cock. He rips your dress off your body and sees that you aren’t wearing a bra.

“Fuckin whore.” He spits out and gropes both of your breasts with his hands. You let out the slutiest moan you’ve ever let out and he chuckles at that.

“You’re so resistant but I can feel you practically dripping for me.” He says and brings his fingers to your heat.

He cups it and you let out a moan.

“S’ not for you.” You lie and he smirks.

“Oh really?” He asks cockily before sliding his finger into your panties and ripping them.

Gently rubbing against your heat, you mewl and squirm.

“You’re such a fuckin liar.” He growls out and inserts a finger into you.

“Jeno!” You moan out and he smirks again.

“You think you’re so tough but the moment I fight back you’re back to your innocent self.” He admits and starts thrusting his finger in deeper and faster.

“Jeno! More!” You yell out and he stops his ministrations which makes you whine.

“Beg for it.” He spits out and you shake your head.

“I’ll fucking leave you here dripping wet.” He claims and you shake your head again while crying.

“No, please!” You yell out and hold onto his bicep.

“Please Jeno! I want more, please! Give me more! I’ll be good for you, I promise!” You beg and he smirks before inserting his fingers in again.

He shoves in two more fingers and that has you spasming in his hold. You lean your head in his neck and moan loudly. You could feel the knot in your stomach building up fast.

“Jeno, m’ gonna cum!” You scream and he starts pumping in his fingers deeper.

“Fuckin cum then you whore.” Jeno spits out and you finally release the knot after his degradation.

You breathe heavily against his neck and he slowly slips his fingers out of you. He brings them to his lips and starts sucking on them, getting every little drop of you off his fingers.

“Get on your knees.” He growls and you quickly scramble to do as he says.

He pushes his boxers down and grabs his cock. It was so pretty, long and girthy. You could see every little vein on it and your mouth starts to drool.

“Open up.” He says and you follow his command.

Opening up your mouth, he grabs the base of your neck and sinks his cock into your mouth. Groaning at the feeling of your mouth around him, he pulls you off him before sinking your mouth back down. He was hitting the back of your throat and you felt the urge to gag.

Letting out a gag, Jeno smirks and brings your head even further down on him. He fucks your mouth hard and fast while groaning.

“Nasty ass fucking attitude. I’m gonna fuck that shit out of you.” He says and pushes your head so far down on him your nose was touching his pelvis.

He felt your throat close up around him and the vibrations of your throat as you moaned. That was enough for him to shoot his load into your mouth and he let out a heavy groan.

“Fuckin swallow all of it.” He says and you try your best to swallow his cum but there was so much.

A bit of his cum slips out and runs down his cock and you can't help but watch it. He pulls you off his cock and you cough harshly at the new found freedom. You open up your mouth to show him that you swallowed his cum.

The cum that you didn’t swallow was pooling on the floor and Jeno noticed it. He looks down at it before smirking up at you.

“Clean it up, whore.” He says smugly and you look down in shame before getting on all fours.

Jeno grabs his phone that fell on the floor and opens up his camera. He records you as you lick his cum off the floor. He brings his phone closer to your face and when you notice his phone you gently whine and try to cover your face.

Jeno pries your arms away from your face and smirks.

“Let me see your pretty face, baby.” He says and you shyly look into the camera which causes him to groan.

“You’re so fuckin hot.” He says and lifts your head up to kiss you.

He can taste himself on your lips but he doesn;t care. His tongue pushes past your lips and fights for dominance against yours. You moan into the kiss and wrap your arms around his neck.

Jeno opens his eyes and flips the camera around so it’s in selfie mode. He records the both of you kissing while his free hand goes towards your neck. He discreetly squeezes it and you moan loudly into his mouth. He smirks into the kiss before pulling away and brings his phone back around to film your body.

“I fuckin love you.” He says and you smile at his words before sitting on his lap.

“I love you too.” You say shyly and press a quick kiss onto his lips.

He stands up and wraps your legs around his waist. He walks you over to the table and places you on it. Jeno breaks the kiss and places his phone on the table, making sure he gets the both of you in frame.

“Turn around and bend over for me baby.” He says and you comply with his words.

You bend over against the table. The coolness of it pressing up against your front sends shivers down your body. Your cheek was pressed against the table and you drooled, anticipating what was coming next. Jeno lines himself up against your hole and pushes in.

“Jeno!” You scream as you feel him inside you. “S’ too big!” You scream and he chuckles.

“Baby, it’s not even all the way in yet.” He says while gripping your hips in place.

He pushes in further until he’s all the way in and stays still for a moment. After you give him a nod of approval he pulls out before harshly slamming back in.

“Jeno!” You scream and grip onto the edges of the table.

He chuckles and grabs his phone to get a closer look at him going in and out of you. He groans at the sight and smacks your ass leaving his handprint everywhere.

“Jeno, it hurts!” You yell out and he just continues doing it. Smacking your ass until it was red all over while his dick was continuing to thrust inside you.

“Jeno, I’m cumming!” You yell out and cream all over his cock.

He zooms in and watches as your cum slowly falls out and it makes him go even more crazy. He thrusts in faster, harder, and deeper, chasing his own release. When he finally lets go, he finishes inside you and groans.

He slowly pulls out and observes his cum falling out of your tiny hole. He laughs and smacks your ass again making you yelp. He stops the recording and shuts off his phone before wiping you clean with his button up. He turns you around and lifts you up while you cuddle into him.

“Baby, you can’t fall asleep yet. You still need to go pee.” He says softly and you nod your head before letting go of him.

You slowly start collecting your ripped clothing as he puts his briefs on. You wait for him to finish while holding your hand out. He laughs softly and coos at you before intertwining your hands.

You drag him to your room and he sits down on your bed while you go pee. After peeing, you walk to your closet and find a fresh pair of undergarments with an oversized shirt. Quickly slipping it on, you grab one of your dads old sweats from your drawer and give it to Jeno.

He presses a quick kiss to your lips in gratitude before sliding them on and getting into bed with you. His arms wrap around you and he squeezes you tighter.

“I love you, you psycho.” He says and you laugh before kissing his neck softly.

“I love you too.”

The next morning, Giselle woke up and went on Instagram. She clicked on her profile to view the photo she posted of her and Jeno before smiling widely.

She notices that he posted a photo and clicks on it. Her eyes widening when she sees your face plastered with a big smile and a bunch of marks left all over your neck. You were shirtless too because the marks went so far down your chest, your breasts were barely cut off from the photo.

“That’ll teach her.” You said quietly as you looked on Jeno’s instagram. His arms were still wrapped around you and he softly laughed at your words.

“You’re such a monster.” He says and you click your tongue at him.

“Yeah, but you love it.” You say and his hand comes to wrap around your neck to bring your lips to his.

“I do love it, baby.” He whispers before kissing you.

End.

#jeno drabble #jeno x reader #jeno smut #nct jeno #nct dream #lee jeno #mark lee #jaemin #na jaemin #renjun #haechan #lee donghyuck #nct smut

348 notes · View notes

eetherealgoddess · 7 months

Note

Hey, I just had a really good idea for u to write. A yandere bonten and a singer/ famous reader. I really love your writing style, and I get sooo excited when I see u post something 🫶🤭

Thank youu!! I get excited for good requests :)

ꨄMelodic Ruinꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten/Famous Singer Au

❦You’re an artist who caught Bonten’s attention❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

(Mostly Mikey but you’ll see what I mean)

❣︎I know in real life the manager doesn’t “own” the singer, but in this story, the reader will have signed all of their artistic rights to the manager so that the plot will make sense❣︎

Not fully proofread

Japanese language is red

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Melodic Ruin

Claps could be heard echoing throughout the concert hall as you stood on the surface with a sweet smile, thanking the audience before walking off the stage, the lights shutting off behind you as the crowd began to make their leave. The long dress you wore hugging your figure as the train of the fabric followed behind. You had just completed the last performance for your concert, your hands rubbing along your sides as you released a breath of relief. Of course you don’t get as much anxiety as you did when you first started singing in front of thousands of people, you just really cared about your craft. A perfectionist you could say. This particular performance was important as well considering the extra onlookers your manager warned you about, you having noticed a few of the “important” people in the VIP seats when you were on the stage.

You are ranked as a famous singer in your country, not having been worldwide just yet besides the few videos of you singing at home or in the studio that went viral, as well as your first album that was released recently. You’re a new industry baby, but you’re still trying to keep your own personality in your work without getting controlled by any record deal which is why you’re an independent artist. You take pride in your art, creative by heart and ambitious by nature. It took you quite a few years of releasing singles and singing social media videos to finally get noticed for your talent. You’re proud of yourself which is something that doesn’t happen often enough. You’re not exactly at the top yet but you’re not mad with where you’re at.

“Good job, Y/n! You’ve caught quite the attention!” Your manager greets you just as you made it backstage, offering you the business card in her hand. You look down and take the paper on your own, eyeing the print. Your eyes widened.

“I got invited to perform in JAPAN?!” You exclaim. Never have you ever gotten an opportunity to go out of the country, only touring around local concerts although still popular by demand.

“A private, high classed lounge owned by club owners Haitani Ran and Haitani Rin! Isn’t this great news?” She beams as she holds her hands up. You look at her with your eyes glistening, a wide smile on your face as you feel so grateful for the opportunity. And to be personally invited to perform at this specific lounge is a huge deal for you. You’ll have more of a chance at getting acquainted with bigger connections. It’s intimidating, yet you couldn’t help the excitement that your hard work is finally paying off even bigger than it has.

“We’re leaving first thing tomorrow so get your bags packed because it’s gonna be a long trip!” Your manager says before giving your arms a tight squeeze. “You deserve this, Y/n. Bask in it now because before you know it, you’ll be attracting even bigger opportunities.” She walks off, leaving you with the business card as you read the print once more.

You immediately change before packing your bags when you make it home, excitement making it hard to fall asleep although eager for the next day to come. It was early in the morning when you and your manager met at the airport holding your private jet. Checking your consistent notifications as well as scrolling through social media. Sitting on the plane was full of thought while you listened to the music blasting from your headphones, thinking about the venue you’d be performing at. How intimate it’ll be to sing amongst all of those people who will be judging you, observing your creativity to see if it’s worth the profit.

An empty estate was offered to you and your manager, coming upon a penthouse once your driver dropped you off. Your manager basked in the luxury as she unpacked, talking your ear off as if she’s more excited than you. You chuckle at the thought before heading to your own bedroom to unpack, an eyebrow raising at the name tagged on the door. When you opened the door, you were met with a modernized luxury bedroom. The body sized window gives you a beautiful view of the city from above. You stood there a moment before turning around to get your outfit ready for the night, already having notified your manager to not call the stylist since you already had an idea of what you were going to wear.

When evening finally struck you had just climbed into the vehicle, your driver helping you in before shutting the door behind you, along with your two security guards who traveled with you. Your manager sat in the passenger seat, the black suv moving along as you eye through the tinted window. Your nerves are struck, having never performed in a country other than your own. Especially with the presence of numerous important individuals, you couldn’t afford to make any rookie mistakes.

When you arrived, you were helped out of the car, different locals being held back by guards already posted for the lounge, keeping the crowd behind the ropes as you walked along the red carpet. You waved and smiled as people screamed your name and song lyrics, cameras flashing as well as paparazzi ready for the next best shot. Finally making it inside, you were greeted with a beautiful melody, red covering the walls with a marble floor. Gold decor plastered along as well as the large chandelier hanging from the middle of the room.

A red rug sat in the middle of the floor along with cushioned chairs and glass tables, a bar across from the stage as well as many people conversing with champagne and other alcoholic beverages. A woman holds a microphone on the stage, entertaining the audience with beautiful harmony. Everyone wears all black formal attire, causing you to look down at your shimmery, golden gown with a grimace. You turn to your manager as you both walk down the hall in the opposite direction, heading for the dressing room.

“I thought I was supposed to wear gold.” You say softly. She smirks.

“You are. Don’t forget, Y/n. This is your special night.”

My special night, right.

You take a deep breath before one of your security guards opens the dressing room.

Your eyes perk at the man standing inside. He turns his head back before walking towards you with a smile. You eye his purple orbs before examining the suit accenting his broad figure. His neck tattoo displays a symbol you’ve never seen before, though it fit him well. Fingers run through his short, dyed hair as he gets closer.

“Welcome, Y/n. Haitani, Ran.” He states, holding a hand out. You smile politely, ignoring your anxiety as you shake his hand. You couldn’t help but notice how soft his skin felt against yours.

“Hello, Mr. Haitani. Thank you so much for this opportunity.” You beam, subconsciously rubbing your palms against the fabric of your dress, refraining from picking at the dress.

“Please, call me Ran. The pleasure is all mine. We are grateful to have you here.” He says, before connecting his lips with the back of your hand, gaze still holding yours. You felt your face warm, having never been handled so gently by a man considering the type of males that live in your hometown. Your manager walks up, both of them greeting each other, though her body is slightly tense when she gives him a tight smile. You fail to notice the display of tension, too focused on the tingling sensation lingering from the contact with your hand.

“I see that gold fits you very well. Best choice I’ve ever made.” He chuckled. So he recommended it to your manager?

That brings you comfort knowing you hadn’t made a mistake, after all it never felt good to be the odd one out because of misinformation.

“Indeed it is. Y/n, let’s get you ready to perform!” Your manager eased her arm around your shoulder before pulling you off, Ran waving bye as he exited the room while you shifted your gaze at her with confusion.

“What was that about?” You question her as she fixes her own makeup in the mirror.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The way you just interr…”

“Y/n.” She breathes out. “Let’s focus on your music, yeah?” She says as she touches up your face. You nod your head right before an employee comes in to queue you. You exhale before heading down the hall behind the stage.

“Please give a warm welcome to Ms. Y/n!”

Straightening your back, you stepped onto the stage, revealing yourself to the audience who claps and cheers, giving you the welcome you deserve. You gaze at the beautiful view of the crowd, noticing a familiar suit sitting with eight other interesting looking men. You greet the crowd right before the music begins, beginning your performance as everyone quiets down, along with the light over the audience dimming.

During your performance, you allow yourself to get lost in the music. Closing your eyes as your hand moves along, flowing with the melody as your beautiful voice harmonizes well with the piano. Your head tilts as you release a stronger note that comes from the base of your voice, tightening your grip on the microphone as you walk along the stage. The slit of your gown opens slightly, exposing your thigh as you move across the stage. Your gaze shifts to different sides of the lounge, making eye contact with a few of the audience members as some of them sway their upper bodies with your song.

The frequency of your voice brings a sense of calmness to the crowd, some with their palm holding their cheek up as they wear a smile, pleasantly losing themselves with you as they seem to be in a trance that locks them in to only you. Some lean into your presence as they gaze at your figure, nodding their heads occasionally to the flow as well as admiring your overall appearance.

Your manager stands behind the stage, out of the sight of everyone as she chews her nails, shifting her gaze to the eight males that sit upstairs with the best view of the stage. Her eyebrows furrow while her arms tremble slightly, unable to focus on anything else but the intimidating gazes stuck on you. The platform of her shoe taps against the ground as she exhales.

The music goes out just as your voice lingers the last note, eyes fluttering back open as a grin grows on your expression, all the while one of your arms lie out to the side. You set the microphone back on the stand after you bow with a “thank you,” as everyone claps. You accidentally catch Ran’s gaze as well as the other men just as you wave ‘goodbye’ to the audience. You meet your manager behind the stage as she gives you a smile and pulls you into a hug.

“Great job, Y/n! Now let’s celebrate.”

The night was spent drinking as well as having conversations with various people, discussing their businesses and hobbies as well as asking you numerous facts about yourself. Your manager seemed to have disappeared a while ago, leaving you to sit by yourself on a lounge chair, the dress hugging your legs as if you were a mermaid. You eye your phone’s screen while taking a sip of your champagne, eyeing the recent post of your own performance until the shadow of a person steals your attention.

“We need to go, now!” Your manager says before snatching your wrist, pulling you along as drops of liquid splash out of the glass.

“M/n? What the hell?” You gasp as you’re caught off guard, almost tripping over your own dress while she forces you to rush to the dressing room.

You yank your arm out of her grip before glaring at her.

“M/n! What is going on? Why have you been so on edge tonight?” She quickly gathers all of your stuff as you stare at her with disbelief. She pauses, failing to look at you.

“L-look. I’ll explain everything later. We just need to get out of Japan right now.”

“Wait a minute. I thought we were staying for a few days.” Your tone shifted to concern. “What’s wrong, M/n? Did something happen?” She drops the makeup supplies before turning to you and gripping your arms.

“I told you, Y/n! I will explain everything later, but right now we don’t have much time! We need to leave, now!” You gaze at her with shock along with fear as you become nervous by her own look of terror. Sweat sliding along the lining of her forehead along with her eyeliner slightly smeared with red eyes.

What the fuck is going on?

“Oh? What’s the rush? The party was just getting started.” A smooth voice says with amusement behind you. You watch as your manager’s eyes widened before you turned to meet your gaze with three men. Your eyes met a familiar purple though the rest of the features were slightly different, the purple mullet being the most prominent as well as the matching tattoo you saw on the male earlier. You guessed this man to be the other owner of the club, Haitani Rin.

Standing to his right is a man with golden eyes, blonde strands falling over his face along with his black hair pulled into a neat ponytail. His expression was light, holding a smile that you could mistake for politeness. He placed his hands in his pockets after shutting the door behind them. To the Haitani’s left is a man with narrowed blue eyes that seem to pierce into your soul, his pink mullet shaped perfectly around his beautiful features. Your gaze shifts to the scars placed at the corners of his mouth, furrowing your brows before you take in the situation at hand.

“What’s going on, M/n?” You side eye her as you watch her eyes widen. Her lips slightly apart as she tries to think of something to say.

“That was a beautiful performance, Y/n. Fitting for such a gorgeous woman.” The blonde says as he approaches, holding a hand out. The tiger in black ink on his neck added to the intimidating aura that contrasts with the expression on his face. He mimics Ran, bringing your limp hand to his lips while gazing into your eyes. A look of such intensity that you had to look away.

“Thank you…” You pause in expectance.

“Kazutora.” You nod with a polite smile before shifting your gaze to the others.

The tension in the room has yet to disappear. You couldn’t really focus on anything else but how scared your manager looks right now.

“M/n. It’d be in your best interest to follow us. The King wants to speak to you.” The pink haired one says, a look of satisfaction crossed his face when he states ‘the King,’ which causes you a little confusion by the title.

Kazutora takes the opportunity to wrap an arm around your shoulder, pulling you along as you look behind to glance at your manager with a questioning look. You all walk out of the dressing room and through the hall. The only sounds being your heels clicking and their speech, nothing you could decipher because of the differing language.

“Surprised she’d be Mikey’s type.” Rin says to the other men.

“No kidding. Who knew a famous babe from Y/c would catch his eye?” Kazutora says while glancing at you.

“There’s a lot you two don’t know about Mikey.” The pink haired man replies.

“Hm, I guess you’re right Sanzu. Wonder how long it’ll take before blood sheds tonight.” Kazutora rubs his chin.

“Can’t wait to find out.” Sanzu smirks.

You turn back to glance at your manager who looks as though the color on her face has disappeared.

I hope I find out what’s going on with her.

You all arrive upstairs, walking down a hall before being met with an office. When you walked in, you noticed the other men who sat on the balcony with Ran, standing around the desk facing the entrance. Ran also in position though sitting in a chair next to the desk in the spacious room. A man with pale hair sits behind the desk with a sweater hanging off of his shoulders, dark eyes gazing into yours as Kazutora removes his arm and leads you to your seat. Your manager sits beside you on another chair, along with Rin standing by her side and Kazutora standing by yours, everyone facing the platinum haired male. Sanzu takes position beside the short man, standing by his chair with his hand holding the other.

You felt on edge, seven pairs of eyes focused on you, all the while silence filled the room. You turn in your seat to look at the blocked entrance, some other broad men blocking the door. Your eyebrows furrowed as the room seemed to get colder, turning back in your seat as you faced the mystery man.

“Speak.” His narrowed eyes meet your manager’s.

She hesitates as you watch her shift uncomfortably in her seat. Her chest rises as she takes a shaky breath in before exhaling.

“U-um, I…” She stammers, fingers trembling against the arm of the chair. You stay quiet, concerned with her behavior as your own body glistens with sweat from stress. You shift in your seat, straightening your back as you cross your ankles, your legs fidgeting as you feel the butterflies in your stomach.

“You tried to leave? And so soon?” He questions, his expression stoic as his eyes bore into your manager’s. Her hands move to her lap as her foot taps against the ground.

“U-uh, no. No I didn’t.” She breathes out.

“I think you did. Didn’t she?” They all responded with “Yes Boss.” Before silence falls once more.

“Why?” M/n’s mouth shuts as she tries to think of something. You could only guess that she was nervous because of whatever business title the men hold so you decide to speak up for her.

“We’re grateful for the opportunity, really. It’s just been a long night.” You explain, only causing some of the men to chuckle at the naivety. Your eyebrows furrow in irritation. “Okay, what the hell is really going on?”

M/n looks at you with wide eyes before holding her hands up and shaking her head.

“Y-Y/n, I’ll explain later, just give me some ti…”

“No, tell me right now why everyone is acting so weird. Stop wasting time.” You growl, sick of the antics and the vague conversations.

The man looks at you for a moment before nodding to Rin. To your surprise he pulls out a gun just as M/n hops out of her seat causing the chair to fall backwards. She runs to the entrance only for him to hold the weapon up, shooting the gun. The bullet penetrates her back, causing her to fall over, a shriek leaving her lips as the throbbing pain fills her senses. You jump out of your seat in shock, eyes staring at the blood staining her attire while she lays her head on the floor.

“What the fuck?” You exclaim, heading to the bleeding girl only to get pulled against a chest, arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your feet off the ground.

“You said to stop wasting time!” Kazutora laughs as the rest look on in amusement to the woman losing consciousness.

“Y/n! I-I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry! I had no choice! I had no choice!” She weeps, hand smacking against the floor as she covers her head with her arm. “I’m so sorry.” She whimpers.

“What are you talking…! Let me fucking go! She needs to go to the hospital!” You yell, beating Kazutora’s arms as you try to pry them off, kicking your feet.

Sanzu walks to the woman lying on the ground. Setting a foot to the wound before pressing down, causing a strangled gasp to come out of her mouth. You struggle harder as you watch him point a gun to her head from above.

“Explain yourself.” He growls, smiling wide with crazed eyes.

“I-I sold you! I s-sold… you! It’s… *gasp* all in their…*pant* hands!” She weeps, “I h-ha… *grunt* had no choice!” Her own nails pierce her palms as she turns her hands to fists, squeezing in pain as he continues to press his weight down.

You could only stare in silence as you paused your struggling.

“T-they’re a… a gang! A *pant* criminal….organization! Th-they…*grunt* threaten…!” She screams out in agony once Sanzu pulls his leg up and slams his foot down on her wound. You wince as you begin to struggle again.

“Let her go!” You were angry with her, yes. However, if the truth is that they threatened her, you couldn’t help but empathize despite your lingering resentment. Your only focus was to get both of you out of here alive. You wondered where your guards were.

“Yes, ma’am.” Sanzu smiles before moving his foot off of her and cocking the gun, pulling the trigger. The bullet blasts half of her skull open. The sickening sound of blood splattering the floor causes you to gasp before you yell out, tears falling out of your eyes at the traumatic display.

“Hey, save those vocals for the bedroom, yeah?” Ran jokes before lighting a cigarette, some of the other men chuckling at his response.

“Let me go! Let me go, goddamnit!” You growl angrily, crying as Kazutora forces you to sit down.

He cocks his gun, bringing the barrel to your head while putting a finger over his lips. You eye him with a look of horror.

“Shh.” He starts. “Boss isn’t done talking.”

You pant as you hold your chest, staring back at their ‘boss’ who eyes you quietly. The room calms down once more as everyone takes their original positions, a gun still pressed to your head. He slides a form over for you to read. You lean in your seat and look over the sheet that confirmed your manager’s signature, signing you over to Bonten, a criminal organization residing in Japan.

“The contract doesn’t lie. During this term and all others, you are now the property of Bonten.”

You shook your head while whispering, “No.”

“I own you, Y/n. You can either fall in line willingly or by force. I don’t care. You’re mine.” He says before standing from his seat.

“Mikey.” He says to you before shifting his attention to the others. “Take her to Bonten’s headquarters.”

Kazutora hides his gun and grabs your arm as you struggle against his hold. Just as Mikey and Sanzu, along with some of the other men, head to the doorway, he says, “Knock her out if you have to.”

A breathy laugh is released from Kazutora before he pulls back a fist.

“Sorry, doll.”

Darkness immediately engulfs your vision.

378 notes · View notes

gothhabiba · 9 months

Text

An Appeal to Our Food and Hospitality Community to Take Action Now for Gaza

Dear Industry Friends,

We have come together as chefs, farmers, media makers, business owners, beverage professionals, and food workers from across our industry to call for an immediate ceasefire in Gaza and an end to U.S. support for Israel’s war crimes. We must break the silence around the genocide in Gaza. As of today, more than 7,000 Palestinians have been massacred in less than three weeks. Nearly half of them are children. Over 8,000 bombs have been dropped on Gaza, killing a Palestinian every 5 minutes. After hospitals run out of fuel, the death toll will rise exponentially. Every second we choose to stay silent, without demanding that our government stop arming Israel with billions of our tax dollars, we allow another massacre to take place.

We can prevent this violence by refusing to allow our government to fund and arm Israel’s decades-long military occupation. History has shown us that peace and safety for all in the region cannot come from the violent subjugation of Palestinians. We grieve the loss of all innocent life. However, violence begets violence, and we know this latest eruption did not occur in a vacuum. For 75 years, Palestinians have been killed, imprisoned, tortured, and robbed of their land and homes. In Gaza, 2.2 million people — more than half of whom are children — have been living under an inhumane siege for almost 17 years, and are cut off from the world, without access to water, food, or basic amenities needed to live a dignified and healthy life. For those living in Gaza, the last decade has been a slow genocide.

As cultural stewards in this country, we have the power to counter the dehumanization of Palestinians. Israel has long weaponized food, erasing Palestinian people while claiming their cuisine. Here in the U.S., the appropriation of Palestinian foods as “Israeli” has led to more than Israelis profiting off of Palestinian culture; it is an erasure that has had real implications for Palestinians. It allows us to negate their cultural currency, and turn our attention away with more ease when we see Palestinian death.

We must join our voices with Palestinians pleading for justice and protection right now. The situation is dire, and no amount of media coverage has discouraged Israel from its policy of ethnic cleansing and land theft as the U.S. government continues to protect Israel from global pressure for a ceasefire. We have been called upon by Palestinian civil society to join their struggle for freedom by joining the global movement for divestment and cultural boycott of Israel until it ends its horrific human rights abuses.

We ask our fellow food and beverage community to take a stand against genocide and ethnic cleansing and commit to three actions with us:

Call your congressional representatives to demand an immediate ceasefire and an end to unconditional U.S. funding of Israel.

Divest from products, events, and trips that promote Israel until it dismantles its apartheid system and military occupation.

Invest in events and projects that promote justice for Palestinians, whether connecting to a local organization to learn how to support, or amplify Palestinian voices and support them to share their food and culture on their own terms.

We recognize that this may be difficult given the frightening pressure put on us to remain silent. McCarthyist tactics cannot marginalize and divide us – we know we are not alone as the whole world is rising up against injustice and genocide. Thousands of artists worldwide have publicly endorsed BDS and the cultural boycott of Israel, including musicians, DJs, filmmakers and actors, visual artists, Black artists, Latin American artists, and countless others across all fields and continents. This is in spite of efforts made by Israeli government-linked lobby groups to suppress this solidarity.

“In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.” —Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

We are all in this industry to affirm life and dignity for everyone. As those who care for others, it is our moral imperative to actively contribute to the care that Palestinians need right now as they struggle to survive and get free. Food and beverage colleagues – it’s time for our community to extend our hospitality and join the movement for a Free Palestine.

Add your name – sign the pledge

#Palestine #Israel #BDS #action

363 notes · View notes

reality-detective · 2 months

Text

Long Post... But Very Important 👇

HISTORY OF THE US NESARA LAW:

· NESARA was signed into law by President William Jefferson Clinton in 2000, at gunpoint because the Military forced him to sign it. He wasn't going to, and was to be announced by Alan Greenspan on Sept. 11, 2001, at 10:00am.

· This was prevented by the destruction of the World Trade Center by then President George W. Bush, Dick Cheney and others involved with this great deception. They murdered 7,000 innocent Americans that day and stole billions in Gold and Silver from Building 7.

· In early 1993, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled on charges by the Farmer's Union that banks in the U.S. were fraudulently foreclosing on farm mortgages and that the U.S. Government was in collusion with these banks. The testimony and proof brought into court by a retired CIA Agent let to further evidence and proof that Farmer's Union claims were legitimate. It also led to evidence that the 16th Amendment, the Income Tax Amendment, was never properly ratified by the required number of states and therefore, declared that income taxes were unlawful.

· Almost unanimously the U.S. Supreme Court Justices ruled in favor of Farmer's Union. The Justices recognized that overwhelming evidence proved the U.S. Government and the Federal Reserve Banking System were perpetrating FRAUD in many ways upon Americans. The Justices recognized that to remedy this situation, massive reformations would be required. When rulings were made by the U.S. Supreme Court, one or more of the justices are assigned to monitor the process by which rulings are carried out.

· In this case, five of the Justices were assigned to a committee to develop steps to implement the required governmental and banking reformations. As the Justices went about developing the changes, they enlisted the help of experts in Economics, Monetary Systems, Banking, Constitutional Law and other areas. They built coalitions of support and assistance with thousands of people worldwide, working with us to bring NESARA and GESARA to fruition. These people were called the "White Knights". The term "White Knights" was borrowed from the world of big business when a vulnerable company is "rescued" from a hostile takeover.

· Because of the enormously sweeping changes the rulings by the U.S. Supreme Court required, an EXTREMELY STRICT gag order was put in place on everyone involved. The Justices also sealed all records on the case until after the reformations are all accomplished.

· To maintain secrecy, the case details for the docket number assigned to the Farmer's Union case were changed. So, doing a search for this case will fail to reflect the correct information until after the reformations are made public. At every step of the process, anyone directly involved has been required to sign an NDA to keep the process of implementing the required reformations "Secret" or face charges of Treason which are punishable by death.

· To implement the reformations, the five justices spent years negotiating how the reformations would occur in agreements called "accords" with the U.S. Government, with Federal Reserve Bank owners, the IMF, World Bank, and numerous countries including the UK and the EU.

· The reformations required the Federal Reserve Bank system to be absorbed by the U.S. Treasury and all fraudulent banking activities to be stopped, as well as remedies to Americans for past harm due to FRAUD.

· The U.S. Banking reformations will impact the entire world and therefore the IMF, World Bank and other countries involved including the UK and the Vatican City.

· Members of Congress were ordered by U.S. Supreme Court to "DENY" the existence of NESARA / GESARA or face charges of TREASON, punishable by DEATH. Some members of Congress were charged with "Obstruction" and threatened with charges of TREASON. Therefore, all members of U.S. Congress have had to pretend that NESARA has not been passed in order to comply with the Justice's GAG ORDER.

O. SAT. 3 AUGUST 2024 NESARA GESARA REFORMATIONS:

· NESARA / GESARA is the most groundbreaking reformations to sweep the world in the entire history of the world.

· All foreigners will be required to return home in order for them to receive their GESARA Payments.

NESARA DOES THE FOLLOWING: 👇

a. Zero's out all Credit Card, Mortgage and other bank and loan transaction debts.

b. Abolishes the Internal Revenue Service and the Income Tax.

c. IRS employees will be transferred to the US Treasury National Sales Tax area.

d. The Federal Reserve will be absorbed into the US Treasury.

e. Creates a 14% - 17% National Sales Tax, applied to NEW ITEMS only for government revenue. Some of it goes to states, rest to new national government.

f. Used items sold will not be taxed. Food & Medicines will not be taxed.

g. Sets up Restitution Payments for those victimized by Chattel Property Bonds. Those Aged 61 and over will receive a lump sum payment. Those Aged 41 to 60 will receive scheduled payments set time and sign work contract. Those Aged 29-40 will have to sign a Work Contract to receive their funds. Initiates a Universal Basic Income or UBI for those 16-29 years old.

h. An increase for retired Senior Citizens up to 3x current SSN amount up to $5,000.00

i. Dissolves US Inc. and returns the country to 1791 Constitution and Common Law.

J. Admiralty-Equity & Civil Laws are dissolved. Judges & Lawyers will be retrained in Constitutional Law.

k. Restores the Original 13th Amendment known as the Titles of Nobility Amendment.

l. Requires that New Presidential and Congressional Elections occur within 120 days.

m. Monitors Elections and prevents illegal election activities of everyone.

n. Creates a new US Treasury Rainbow Currency that is Asset Backed.

o. Forbids the sale of American Birth Certificates as chattel property bonds.

p. Initiates a new US Treasury Banking System in alignment with Constitutional Law.

q. Restores Personal Financial Privacy.

r. Ceases All Military Activities Worldwide.

s. Establishes World Peace.

t. Releases enormous sums of money to be used for Humanitarian Purposes.

u. Enables the release of over 6,000 patents of suppressed technologies including free energy devices, anti-gravity and medical bed technologies.

THE RODRIGUEZ TRUST REDEMPTION AND EXCHANGE FUNDING PROGRAM: 👇

· The Rodriguez Trust, based in the Philippines, is reportedly over 100 years old. It is claimed to be the single largest source of funds in the world.

· Dr. Alan Cohler is said to be the asset manager of the trust. The trust is backed by gold, some of which is said to come from King Solomon’s Temple.

· However, these claims are often associated with spiritual and metaphysical beliefs, and their validity is not universally accepted. For definitive information, legal consultation is recommended.

· The value of both the St. Germain and Rodriguez Trusts have 3083 zeros behind them.

The "New Earth" is near 🤔

#pay attention #educate yourselves #educate yourself #knowledge is power #reeducate yourself #reeducate yourselves #think about it #think for yourselves #think for yourself #do your homework #do your own research #do some research #do your research #ask yourself questions #question everything #nesara #new earth #new life #coming soon

117 notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 2 years

Text

The Framework is the most exciting laptop I've ever broken

From the moment I started using computers, I wanted to help other people use them. I was everyone’s tech support for years, which prepared me for the decade or so when I was a CIO-for-hire. In the early days of the internet, I spent endless hours helping my BBS friends find their way onto the net.

Helping other people use technology requires humility: you have to want to help them realize their goals, which may be totally unlike your own. You have to listen carefully and take care not to make assumptions about how they “should” use tech. You may be a tech expert, but they are experts on themselves.

This is a balancing act, because it’s possible to be too deferential to someone else’s needs. As much as other people know about how they want technology to work, if you’re their guide, you have to help them understand how technology will fail.

For example, using the same memorable, short password for all your services works well, but it fails horribly. When one of those passwords leak, identity thieves can take over all of your friend’s accounts. They may think, “Oh, no one would bother with my account, I’ve got nothing of value,” so you have to help them understand how opportunistic attacks work.

Yes, they might never be individually targeted, but they might be targeted collectively, say, to have their social media accounts hijacked to spread malware to their contacts.

Paying attention to how things work without thinking about how they fail is a recipe for disaster. It’s the reasoning that has people plow their savings into speculative assets that are going up and up, without any theory of when that bubble might pop and leave them ruined.

It’s hard to learn about failure without experiencing it, so those of us who have lived through failures have a duty to help the people we care about understand those calamities without living through them themselves.

That’s why, for two decades, I’ve always bought my hardware with an eye to how it fails every bit as much as how it works. Back when I was a Mac user — and supporting hundreds of other Mac users — I bought two Powerbooks at a time.

I knew from hard experience that Applecare service depots were completely unpredictable and that once you mailed off your computer for service, it might disappear into the organization’s bowels for weeks or even (in one memorable case), months.

I knew that I would eventually break my laptop, and so I kept a second one in sync with it through regular system-to-system transfers. When my primary system died, I’d wipe it (if I could!) and return it to Apple and switch to the backup and hope the main system came back to me before I broke the backup system.

This wasn’t just expensive — it was very technologically challenging. The proliferation of DRM and other “anti-piracy” measures on the Mac increasingly caused key processes to fail if you simply copied a dead system’s drive into a good one.

Then, in 2006, I switched operating systems to Ubuntu, a user-centric, easy-to-use flavor of GNU/Linux. Ubuntu was originally developed with the idea that its users would include Sub-Saharan African classrooms, where network access was spotty and where technical experts might be far from users.

To fulfill this design requirement, the Ubuntu team focused themselves on working well, but also failing gracefully, with the idea that users might have to troubleshoot their own technological problems.

One advantage of Ubuntu: it would run on lots of different hardware, including IBM’s Thinkpads. The Thinkpads were legendarily rugged, but even more importantly, Thinkpad owners could opt into a far more reliable service regime that Applecare.

For about $150/year, IBM offered a next-day, on-site, worldwide hardware replacement warranty. That meant that if your laptop broke, IBM would dispatch a technician with parts to wherever you were, anywhere in the world, and fix your computer, within a day or so.

This was a remnant of the IBM Global Services business, created to supply tech support to people who bought million-dollar mainframes, and laptop users could ride on its coattails. It worked beautifully — I’ll never forget the day an IBM technician showed up at my Mumbai hotel while I was there researching a novel and fixed my laptop on the hotel-room desk.

This service was made possible in part by the Thinkpad’s hardware design. Unlike the Powerbook, Thinkpads were easy to take apart. Early on in my Thinkpad years, I realized I could save a lot of money by buying my own hard-drives and RAM separately and installing them myself, which took one screwdriver and about five minutes.

The keyboards were also beautifully simple to replace, which was great because I’m a thumpy typist and I would inevitably wear out at least one keyboard. The first Thinkpad keyboard swap I did took less than a minute, and I performed it one-handed, while holding my infant daughter in my other hand, and didn’t even need to read the documentation!

But then IBM sold the business to Lenovo and it started to go downhill. Keyboard replacements got harder, the hardware itself became far less reliable, and they started to move proprietary blobs onto their motherboards that made installing Ubuntu into a major technical challenge.

Then, in 2021, I heard about a new kind of computer: the Framework, which was designed to be maintained by its users, even if they weren’t very technical.

https://frame.work/

The Framework was small and light — about the same size as a Macbook — and very powerful, but you could field-strip it in 15 minutes with a single screwdriver, which shipped with the laptop.

I pre-ordered a Framework as soon as I heard about it, and got mine as part of the first batch of systems. I ordered mine as a kit — disassembled, requiring that I install the drive, RAM and wifi card, as well as the amazing, snap-fit modular expansion ports. It was a breeze to set up, even if I did struggle a little with the wifi card antenna connectors (they subsequently posted a video that made this step a lot easier):

https://twitter.com/frameworkputer/status/1433320060429373440

The Framework works beautifully, but it fails even better. Not long after I got my Framework, I had a hip replacement; as if in sympathy, my Framework’s hinges also needed replacing (a hazard of buying the first batch of a new system is that you get to help the manufacturer spot problems in their parts).

My Framework “failed” — it needed a new hinge — but it failed so well. Framework shipped me a new part, and I swapped my computer’s hinges, one day after my hip replacement. I couldn’t sit up more than 40 degrees, I was high af on painkillers, and I managed the swap in under 15 minutes. That’s graceful failure.

https://guides.frame.work/Guide/Hinge+Replacement+Guide/104

After a few weeks’ use, I was convinced. I published my review, calling the Framework “the most exciting laptop I’ve ever used.”

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/21/monica-byrne/#think-different

That was more than a year ago. In the intervening time, I’ve got to discover just how much punishment my Framework can take (I’ve been back out on the road with various book publicity events and speaking engagements) and also where its limits are. I’ve replaced the screen and the keyboard, and I’ve even upgraded the processor:

https://guides.frame.work/Guide/Mainboard+Replacement+Guide/79

I’m loving this computer so. damn. much. But as of this morning, I love it even more. On Thursday, I was in Edinburgh for the UK launch of “Chokepoint Capitalism,” my latest book, which I co-authored with Rebecca Giblin.

As I was getting out of a cab for a launch-day podcast appearance, I dropped my Framework from a height of five feet, right onto the pavement. I had been working on the laptop right until the moment the cab arrived because touring is nuts. I’ve got about 150% more commitments than I normally do, and I basically start working every day at 5AM and keep going until I drop at midnight, every single day.

As rugged as my Framework is, that drop did for it. It got an ugly dent in the input cover assembly and — far, far worse — I cracked my screen. The whole left third of my screen was black, and the rest of it was crazed with artefacts and lines.

This is a catastrophe. I don’t have any time for downtime. Just today, I’ve got two columns due, a conference appearance and a radio interview, which all require my laptop. I got in touch with Framework and explained my dire straits and they helpfully expedited shipping of a new $179 screen.

Yesterday, my laptop screen stopped working altogether. I was in Oxford all day, and finished my last book event at about 9PM. I got back to my hotel in London at 11:30, and my display was waiting for me at the front desk. I staggered bleary-eyed to my room, sat down at the desk, and, in about fifteen minutes flat, I swapped out the old screen and put in the new one.

https://guides.frame.work/Guide/Display+Replacement+Guide/86

That is a fucking astoundingly graceful failure mode.

Entropy is an unavoidable fact of life. “Just don’t drop your laptop” is great advice, but it’s easier said than done, especially when you’re racing from one commitment to the next without a spare moment in between.

Framework has designed a small, powerful, lightweight machine — it works well. But they’ve also designs a computer that, when you drop it, you can fix yourself. That attention to graceful failure saved my ass.

If you hear me today on CBC Sunday Magazine, or tune into my Aaron Swartz Day talk, or read my columns at Medium and Locus, that’s all down to this graceful failure mode. Framework’s computers aren’t just the most exciting laptops I’ve ever used — they’re the most exciting laptops I’ve ever broken.

[Image ID: A disassembled Framework laptop; a man's hand reaches into the shot with a replacement screen.]

#pluralistic

1K notes · View notes

cleolinda · 1 year

Text

Under Musk's tumultuous tenure since he bought Twitter in October, the company has changed its business name to X Corp, reflecting the billionaire's vision to create a "super app" like China's WeChat.

In a post on the site at 12:06 a.m. ET (0406 GMT), the social media platform's billionaire owner added: "If a good enough X logo is posted tonight, we'll make (it) go live worldwide tomorrow."

#twitter

332 notes · View notes

radicalgraff · 1 year

Text

Graffiti in Vienna in solidarity with Postaja squat in Zagreb that is under threat of eviction.

Yesterday morning the squat was attacked by security thugs hired by the owner who attempted to enforce an illegal eviction.

The squatters managed to defend the space overnight, but the threat of renewed attacks by security thugs remains.

Postaja have released a statement calling for supporters to come to the space to help defend the space.

"We are an anarchist community living in a squatted compound in zagreb. over the few years this place has been squatted. we renovated it heavily, built spaces for creativity and sports. neighbours and other people come for creative and political projects on top of the people living here. we are growing our own food and recycling and almost completely living off this. our water supply is mainly rain water and we live off solar panel energy - we are truly attempting to live an egalitarian, self sustained life with freedom and power over our own lives, in solidarity and sharing, instead of giving into the predatory capitalist machine.

Yesterday morning around 10 am 20-30 security thugs broke into the space with at least two huge dogs, waking people up and forcefully entering our bedrooms and other spaces, threatening us that we need to get out right now.

They did not have a warrant and we know the squatting laws here - we are claiming possession and until the court case is finished they have no right to try to force us out. this is solely a criminal aggression and intimidation attempt by the private investors who want to allegedly turn this space into a storage space - however, official information available about the business is more than dubious.

Now we are calling for support as we need bodies on the ground and media attention to resist this attempt to force us out. you can reach us at: [email protected]

If you can support, come, spread the word.

Resistance and solidarity with the autonomous squatting communities worldwide!"

#graffiti #graff #anarchism #squat #squatting #street art #zagreb #postaja

163 notes · View notes

just-another-josh · 11 months

Text

Kara

Today is a good day.

No, today is a great day.

Lena continued to remind herself of that over the course of the last two hours.

It was an incredibly important day for her and her wife. Not just that, it was an important day for their family’s legacy. Today was one of those milestone days, the type that signified potential fully realized, the recognition of years of hard work and achievement. A cause for celebration with champagne, victory speeches, and overindulgent parties.

Lena knew this, she believed this.

And yet, all she wanted to do right now was punch Cat Grant in her stupid, Botoxed face.

Four months ago, Cat pulled Kara aside after a CatCo staff meeting and informed her EIC that she intended to run for president in the next election. “If a Cheeto-skinned, glorified game show host can become President of the United States, I should be a shoo-in,” she had reasoned with her. In order to avoid any blind trust complications and because presidential campaigns are very expensive, Cat decided to put CatCo Worldwide Media up for sale.

Lena was greeted by an ugly-crying Kryptonian when she arrived home that night. Cat’s departure was a double blow to her wife: Not only was Kara losing her mentor, but now she had to contend with a new owner who may or may not share the same journalistic integrity as Cat. Nightmares of another Andrea Rojas or Morgan Edge-like monster lording over the bullpen kept the hero up into the early morning hours after Cat dropped her bombshell.

Lena made a solid effort to reassure her wife that everything would work out for the best but when the company was put on the market the next Monday morning, the announcement quickly led to Lena’s assurances becoming hollow promises.

By the end of the week, the bidding war for the media giant had been whittled down to three frontrunners:

Roland Daggett: owner of Daggett Industries with reported ties to organized crime in Gotham.

Simon Stagg: owner of Stagg Enterprises who was currently involved in no-less than a dozen federal investigations for improper disposal of waste generated from his chemical plants.

The final bidder was no stranger to National City or the Superfriends; Maxwell Lord: owner of Lord Technologies and an all-around asshole, who appeared to have crawled out from whatever rock he’d been hiding under.

Lena knew that none of these parasites gave a damn about the fourth estate, nor would they want Supergirl watching over their shoulders while they engaged in whatever reprehensible activities men of their caliber got up to. Lena had no doubt that they’d use CatCo to steer whatever narratives that would profit them the most; much like Morgan Edge intended to do six years prior.

Bottomline, Kara was going to be out of a job if any of those criminals got their hands on CatCo.

Kara did everything she could to talk Cat out of selling to any of them, but Cat had no other viable candidates to sell to. Kara spent the better part of ten days straight trying to get Cat to see reason but was met with failure at every turn. Lena watched Kara sink further into depression as the days passed and it broke her heart.

On day eleven, Lena had had enough of watching her wife suffer. She had Jess arrange an emergency meeting with her finance and mergers/acquisitions department heads. There was only one item of business on the agenda, did L-Corp have enough in its coffers to purchase CatCo. She knew acquiring the media giant was going to cost a lot more than it did when she stole it out from under Morgan Edge. Luckily, the answer was a resounding yes. Since regaining her position as CEO of L-Corp, Lena had led the company to an unprecedented level of profitability. A proposal was quickly drafted. The minutia of the proposal was almost identical to the last time L-Corp purchased the conglomerate, save for one big difference: Kara, not Lena, would be named CEO of CatCo Worldwide Media; not just the print media, but TV, streaming, and online content.

Proposal in hand, it took Lena the better part of the evening (and early morning) to convince her wife that she was fully capable of doing the job. Hell, she’d been doing it for the last eighteen months as Cat became less involved in the day-to-day operations. Kara’s objections to Lena spending Lena’s money to save Kara’s job were quickly shot down, “You forget darling, it’s not my money, it’s our money. We’re married, what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine, you dork.” Finally seeing the light, Lena sent her wife to deliver the proposal directly to Cat; it took her less than twelve hours to accept their offer and approve moving forward with the sale. To say that she was relieved that L-Corp, and by extension Lena and Kara, would be running the company that she built with her own blood, sweat, and tears would be an understatement.

Now, Lena sat in CatCo’s executive conference room. Kara seated to her right, Jess to her left, and half of L-Corp’s legal department bracketing them. On the other side of the table, Cat, and her legal team. Lena had been fortunate enough to avoid attending the negotiation meetings in person; instead choosing to have her attorneys there as her proxies. Occasionally, she’d join the proceedings remotely whenever her two cents was needed. Today, however, was the big day. All the principles needed to be on-hand to sign the final contracts. Lena was initially excited to finalize the deal; if for no other reason than to see the beaming smile her wife had been sporting all day turn brighter than the sun.

Her excitement was quickly tempered when they stepped into Kara’s office and were greeted by Cat with a “Good morning, Mrs. Luthor. Good morning, Kiera.” Lena would have done a spit-take had she been drinking anything at the time. For a moment, she tried to convince herself that she had misheard her. That theory was quickly thrown out the window when Cat called Kara “Kiera” three more times before they reached the conference room. By the time they sat at the conference table to go over the final details before signing, Lena was seething.

After taking several deep breaths and getting her blood pressure under control, Lena tried to mentally talk herself down from doing or saying anything rash. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard Cat address Kara by that name, but it was the first time that it got under her skin. Why? Hormones. She was five months pregnant with twin Kryptonian girls.

For the most part, the pregnancy had been uneventful; after the hell that was first trimester, of course. She’d adjusted to the rollercoaster of emotions, eating 15,000 calories a day to keep her and her baby girls nourished, and the near constant fatigue. Most days, she basked in the experience of being an expectant mother; the flutter of kicks throughout the day, impeccable hair and skin, an insatiable libido, and a doting wife that would fly anywhere in the world to satisfy her food cravings. Yep, without a doubt, the second trimester had been treating Lena well.

Except for today.

Today, her lower back was killing her.

Today, her ankles were obscenely swollen.

Today, the twins were using her bladder as a trampoline.

Today, she felt like a swollen, bloated, beached whale.

Today, Lena had a short fuse, and Cat had no idea how close she was coming to lighting it.

As was standard practice for Lena with all business-related deals, she insisted on reading the final contract cover-to-cover before signing. Although she trusted her legal team, she refused to agree to any contracts that she herself hadn’t personally vetted. Her lawyers had been with her long enough to take their boss’ anal retentiveness in stride, fully understanding that it did not reflect on the quality of their work. While Cat herself remained non-plussed by the delay, her attorneys did a poor job of hiding their impatience. Picking up on the tension in the room, Lena’s senior attorney suggested that both legal teams take an early lunch and after receiving nods of approval from both Lena and Cat, the two teams exited the conference room.

Shortly thereafter, Jess received a text that appeared to be of an urgent nature. After receiving an ‘OK’ from Kara to use the Kryptonian’s office, she swiftly exited.

Kara and Cat continued to make small talk while Lena scoured the sales agreement line-by-line; occasionally securing her black, thick-rimmed glasses when they inched down her nose. Reading the contract had managed to curb her murderous thoughts; allowing her to convince herself that she was overreacting to Cat’s flippant disrespect towards Kara. She reminded herself that this was something Kara found perfectly acceptable, and if the time came when her wife did have a problem, she was more than capable of speaking up for herself. Lena took a deep breath and consigned herself to let bygones be bygones and drop the matter altogether.

Until…

“So, Miss Grant, I assume that once you’re elected, you’ll be giving us an exclusive post-election interview?” Kara playfully asked.

“Now, now, Kiera. As the president-elect I am obligated to give equal time to all media outlets. I mustn’t show any favoritism,” Cat said in a patronizing tone as she waved her finger at Kara as if she were chastising a small child.

Fuse officially lit.

“Darling, I am simple starving. I could really go for a Philly cheesesteak sandwich from that place we found in mid-town,” Lena said through a strained smile; trying her best to hide the anger coursing through her veins.

“D’Elia’s?” As Lena had predicted, Kara was predictably excited by the suggestion.

Lena nodded. “Yes, that’s the one.” She locked yes with her wife for the briefest of moments before averting her gaze back to the contract in front of her.

Kara’s face shifted from excitement to suspicion quickly, now focusing intently on her wife. Lena knew the Kryptonian was probably using her enhanced senses to see or if something was up. Lena cursed herself for thinking she was going to be able to hide her agitation, knowing full well that her wife would hear her increased heart rate and her uneven breathing. Lena blushed under Kara’s scrutiny and offered up her best smile.

Kara clearly wasn’t buying it. “Nahn rraop voi?” she asked with concern in her voice.

“Ju nim voi,” Lena reassured her. She leveled Kara with a look that told her to drop it.

Appearing to take the hint, Kara subtly nodded. “Funyuns too?”

Lena stared at her wife incredulously with a raised eyebrow. “Is that a legitimate question?”

Kara held up her hands in mock surrender. “A thousand pardons.” She turned to Cat. “Can I get you anything, Miss Grant?”

Cat rolled her eyes and scoffed, “Please, Kiera. In all the years you were my assistant, did I ever order anything as vile as a cheesesteak sandwich?”

Lena had to suppress the growl bubbling in her throat. She removed her glasses and massaged her temples in the vain hope that she could stave off the headache that could feel coming.

“A salad with a cheeseburger on top of it is somehow different?” Kara leveled Cat with a snarky smile. A deadpan look settled on Cat’s face. Kara shook her head. “They have salads…yogurt dressing and all.”

Cat seemed to perk up at this news. “Well, in that case, I’d love a salad.”

Kara nodded and turned her attention to Lena. She bent down and placed a chaste kiss on her wife’s forehead before super-speeding out of the room; Lena anchoring the papers in front of her to keep them from scattering.

As the breeze from Kara’s speedy departure subsided, Lena let out a long breath. After quickly organizing her thoughts, she straightened her posture and locked eyes on the woman across the table, sizing her up like a lion would a gazelle. Cat shifted uncomfortably in her chair, clearly unnerved by the intense look in Lena’s eyes, yet defiantly maintaining eye contact.

“Penny for your thoughts, Mrs. Luthor?” Cat said pointedly.

Lena folded her hands on the table, leaned forward, and using her well-honed CEO voice said, “I was just thinking about the remarkable difference in CatCo’s current market value compared to what I paid for it in 2017. Remarkable considering you purchased it from Andrea no less than three years ago for $250 million less than I paid for it.”

“The last three years have been very successful,” Cat said, clearly gloating. “And in all honesty, CatCo’s dismal market value three years ago was a direct result of Miss Rojas’ incompetence. The woman had no business being a journalist, she’s better suited to run some kind of multi-level marketing scam.” Cat scrunched up her nose like she’d smelled something foul.

Lena couldn’t argue, she wholeheartedly agreed with Cat’s assessment of Andrea. The woman had no concept of ethical business practices, let alone journalistic integrity. Lena was well aware that Andrea would run CatCo into the ground when she offered to sell it to her. Lena was more concerned with pissing Kara off at the time. A brief surge of guilt overcame her for the briefest of moments. Although she and Kara had long ago forgiven each other for their respective transgressions during their year-long schism, Lena still promised herself she would do something nice for the hero when they got home this evening as an unspoken “I’m sorry”; most likely something that would make her wife’s toes curl.

“Still, it’s amazing what you’ve been able to accomplish in such a short amount of time.” Lena praised.

“Thank you.” Cat seemed pleased with the compliment…and herself.

Lena leaned in closer to Cat. “So, tell me, owner to owner, what’s the secret? How in the hell did you turn a sinking ship worth $500 million into what Kara and I are shelling out $1.4 billion for?”

The question clearly threw Cat for a loop, her eyes flitted around the room as she considered her response. “Well, you can’t be afraid to ruffle a few feathers. People don’t like the truth sometimes, but that’s the responsibility of a free press, exposing people to the ugly truths that surround them.” Cat’s smile regained its cockiness. “Accuracy is more important than expediency; being right is always better than being first.”

“I have firsthand experience in that regard,” Lena sighed bitterly.

A look of recognition passed over Cat and she nodded benevolently. “That’s right. Your mother’s escape.” Cat shook her head and snorted in disgust. “I should have fired both Snapper and Jimmy for their incompetence.” Cat quirked her head questioningly. “I must say I was quite shocked when I heard you and Jimmy were an item at one point given his…negative opinion of you in those early days.”

“I still am shocked at my utter stupidity.” Lena grimaced. “Luckily it wasn’t a permanent affliction.”

Cat said nothing in response to Lena’s lamentation and the two sat in comfortable silence. Cat’s features softened and her lips slid into a warm smile. “That whole mess perfectly illustrates why competent leadership is so important. A good EIC would have put a stop to their recklessness.”

Thankful for the opportunity to shift the focus away from her relationship with James, Lena quickly replied, “I heard Kara tried to stop them.”

Cat’s smile took on a thoughtful appearance, a glimmer of fondness shown in her eyes. “That’s what makes her so remarkable. Even then, with only a few months’ experience under her belt, she still stood up to those jackasses. Her internal compass told her that something wasn’t right, and she refused to let her inexperience stop her from speaking up.” Cat’s look of pride was matched by Lena’s. “That’s what a competent leader does, sticks to their guns even when those in power tell them they’re wrong.”

“So, you think Kara a logical pick for CEO?”

“Absolutely,” Cat responded passionately. “Credit where credit is due, she’s been singlehandedly running the company for over a year now. She’s been performing tasks well beyond her job title and doing a damn fine job in the process.”

“So, would you say Kara has earned your trust and respect?” Lena set her trap.

“Unequivocally,” Cat said with no small amount of adoration, but her features quickly took on an aura of incredulity. “If I didn’t know any better Mrs. Luthor, I’d say you’re having doubts about putting your wife in charge.”

A feeling of pure satisfaction and anticipation surged through Lena as she now had Cat cornered, though she showed no signs of it, her poker face was impenetrable. (There’s a reason poker had been banned from Game Night, Lena could out-bluff everyone)

She almost felt sorry for the older woman.

Almost.

“No, Miss Grant, I have no doubts regarding Kara’s ability to run CatCo. I’m just confused.”

“About what?” Cat asked with an annoyed tone.

“I’m glad you asked.” The smile that spread across Lena’s face could only be described as sinister. “You compliment Kara’s leadership skills. You say that she is the best choice to run CatCo. You say that you trust her. You even go so far as to say you respect her.” Cat nodded, a look of absolute confusion on her face. “And yet, you continue to disrespect her on a daily basis, both privately and publicly.”

Cat sat silently, eyes the size of saucers and her mouth agape.

“What’s my wife’s name, Miss Grant?” Lena asked in an even tone.

Cat stared at Lena as if she was speaking a foreign language. Lena continued. “’Kara’. Say it with me, ‘Kara’.” Lena enunciated phonetically, making no attempt to hide the disdain in her voice. “K-A-R-A. If you’d like, I’d be happy to write it down in crayon for you.”

Cat was clearly flabbergasted, evidenced by her complete lack of response.

Lena took a deep, centering breath; her anger ebbing away ever so slightly. “Miss Grant, I don’t know you that well. When I met Kara, she spoke almost to the point of reverence about you. It became very clear early in our friendship that you were very important to her, so when you came back into her life, I viewed it positively.” Cat seemed to relax at the shift in Lena’s mood, her features loosened as she followed Lena with rapt attention.

Lena continued, her voice tinged with melancholy, “My opinion soured the first time I met you.” Cat looked at her questioningly, Lena rolled her eyes in response. “Our bridal shower,” Lena deadpanned. Cat gave a slight nod. Lena shook her head and continued, “As I was saying, our bridal shower was the first time I heard you call Kara ‘Kiera’. I just assumed I’d misheard you and let it go. When you called her ‘Kiera’ at our bachelorette party, I figured you’d had too much to drink. When you called her ‘Kiera” at our wedding, the only reason I didn’t cast a spell that would make all your hair fall out is because…well…it was our wedding, and I wasn’t going to ruin the day.”

Cat seemed to sink a little further into her seat as Lena listed off each slight, her face stoic.

“My favorite was the night Kara was awarded her second Pulitzer. You did such a beautiful job during her award presentation. Hell, you even introduced her using her proper name,” Lena paused, a look of mock astonishment on her face. “But no more than two seconds after she stepped off the stage, you called her by that goddamn name again!” Lena, face dusted pink, slammed her fist on the conference table, startling Cat.

Her anger rising, Lena gave Cat no time to recover as she leveled her index finger at the clearly unsettled blonde. “Kara is an extraordinary woman. She has saved this planet both as a writer and Supergirl. For fuck’s sake, she saved the universe from being wiped out of existence! Do you have any idea the enormity of something like that? I assure you, you do not.” Lena slowly rose from her seat and leaned over the table, hovering over a floored Cat. “She is a daughter, a sister, an aunt, my wife, the mother of my unborn children, and goddamn superhero for Christ’s sake! You will show her the respect, grace, and compassion that she is owed. You will commit to me right here and now that you will never, EVER, call her ‘Kiera’ again.” Lena picked up the contract and shook it in Cat’s face. “And if you fail to agree to that, I will burn this and piss on the ashes!” Lena mic-dropped the stapled papers.

Cat, wide-eyed and mouth agape once more, stared blankly at the discarded contract. Lena, satisfied with her tirade (for now), gently lowered herself into her seat. She retrieved her glasses and put them on. After grabbing the contract from its resting place on the conference table, she thumbed through the pages until she found where she left off and resumed her reading.

Lena was content to sit in silence while Cat continued to process what had transpired. She felt a great deal of satisfaction being able to defend her wife, even if it meant the deal might fall through. Lena knew that Kara would be devastated if she had to leave CatCo, and as much as Lena wanted to spare her wife from a broken heart, there was no way in hell she was going to let anyone disrespect her. If worse came to worst, they could buy a smaller publication and build from there; Lena feeling confident that any media organization run by Supergirl would garner a sizeable following, not to mention Kara’s skills as a publisher.

“Have you ever met Perry White?” Cat’s passive voice broke through the silence.

Lena set the contract back on the table, removed her glasses, and studied Cat for a moment. As far as Lena could tell, there was no trace of hostility or arrogance in Cat’s appearance. Lena had no idea why Cat was bringing up the former Daily Planet editor. Her curiosity peaked, she decided to follow Cat down whatever rabbit hole she was leading her. “No, I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure. Though I’m not too broken up about it seeing as how he was more than happy to label me as the anti-Christ after Lex was sent to prison.”

“The man was a pig,” Cat said, a slight tremble in her lips. “When I first started at the Planet as his assistant, he insisted on calling me ‘Caity’.” Cat paused, apparently waiting for some type of response from Lena; a raised eyebrow was all she received. “This went on for weeks. ‘Caity! Coffee, black! Caity, where’re my cigars? ‘Caity, get off your ass and get me some lunch!’. Until one day, I psyched myself up enough to correct him. He told me that he knew what my name was, but he didn’t care. From that point on, he started calling me ‘Caity-Cat’.”

“Did you report him to HR?” The look on Lena’s face was ice-cold, but the hint of warmth in her voice belied a touch of sympathy.

Cat scoffed, “God no. Filing a complaint against the EIC for one of, if not the largest newspaper in the United States would have been career suicide.” Lena could only shake her head in disgust, Cat nervously fiddled with her fingers and huffed, “It was a barbaric time. The entire industry was run by a bunch of testosterone-laden animals.” Cat chuckled quietly. “It’s unfortunate Perry retired before the Me Too movement, I would have loved to have watched him get skinned alive.”

Lena couldn’t help the snort that escaped her. Cat grinned brightly at her reaction. Lena quickly regained her composure and dramatically cleared her throat. “So how did you deal with it?”

“I used it,” Cat said confidently. “Every time I heard the name ‘Caity-Cat’, I used it as motivation to push for a better career. I made a vow that I would make such a name for myself that that son of a bitch would have no choice but to show me the respect I deserved.” Lena could see a flash of steely determination in Cat’s eyes. “Come hell or high water, I would prove that I was worthy of his notice.” Cat swallowed thickly, her eyes becoming glassy.

Lena picked up on the bitterness in Cat’s voice. She could see how much the memories of her time under Perry White pained her. She couldn’t help the swell of sympathy generated by Cat’s remembrances. Whether she liked it or not, Lena felt a kindred spirit in Cat. Both had navigated a world heavily dominated by misogynistic, deplorable men who did everything in their power to ensure their failure. She understood Cat’s motivation to prove that she belonged in that world, no matter its futility.

“Did you ever accomplish your goal?” Lena asked, already knowing the answer.

“In a way.” Cat thinned her lips, a far off look on her face. “A year after I got CatCo off the ground, I ran into Perry at some awards dinner. By happenstance, serendipity, or whatever the hell you want to call it, we went to get a drink at the bar at the same time. I said hello, and he grunted out ‘Catherine’.” Lena shrugged her shoulders and shook her head, unsurprised by the man’s apparent apathy. Cat grinned playfully, clearly feeling like she swallowed the canary. “But by then it didn’t matter. I’d grown far beyond needing his respect or approval. By that time, I had already accomplished more than that sack of shit ever could. I didn’t want, didn’t need a damn thing from him.”

Lena let Cat relieve her triumphant moment, happy in the knowledge that Cat was able to realize her self-worth without needing validation from anyone else.

“So, is that why you scall my wife ‘Kiera’? In some misguided attempt to motivate her?” Lena’s gaze bore into Cat with an intensity greater than Kara’s heat vision. “Because from where I’m sitting, it seems history repeating itself.”

Cat blanched at Lena’s assertion; a barely perceptible shiver ran the length of her spine. Cat let out a long breath before meeting Lena’s probing stare before answering wistfully. “When she started as my assistant, maybe…but I think it got to the point where I wasn’t even aware I was doing it.” Cat looked away from Lena, clearly angry with herself. She fell back into her chair with an unceremonious thud, her shoulders sagging defeatedly. “But it really doesn’t matter, still makes me a hypocrite.”

Lena answered Cat’s unasked question with a raise of her eyebrow and a slight tilt of her head.

Cat folding her hands on the conference table and leaned closer to Lena. “Please understand, I am so proud of Kara. She has exceeded every expectation I could possibly have of her. She has grown into a remarkable woman; and it has nothing to do with the cape and tights. She engenders trust and respect to a level I have never seen before. I’m used to my staff going above and beyond because they’re scared of me, but her, they do it because they adore her.” Cat’s eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

Lena’s features softened at Cat’s admission, a warm sense of satisfaction blooming in her chest. She started feeling the slight sting of welling tears in her eyes after hearing such kind words about her wife. Stupid pregnancy hormones.

There might be hope for Cat yet. At the very least, she’d avoid tasting Lena’s fist.

“Have you considered telling her that?” Lena pointedly asked.

Cat grinned sadly through trembling lips. “I feel like that ship’s sailed,” Cat said with a shaky voice. “How…when…I mean…I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

Lena didn’t even try to hide her enjoyment watching Cat ramble. “One, it’s never too late, two, use your words, and three, there’s no time like the present.” Lena motioned towards the closed door leading to the bullpen. Cat looked at the door confused. “Kara, I know you’re listening. You can come in now,” Lena said quietly.

Before Cat could react, the door opened and a sheepish looking Kara entered the conference room, two flimsy cardboard boxes filled with wrapped sandwiches and bags cradled in her arms. She set the boxes down and turned to face her wife. “I wasn’t listening.” Lena leveled Kara with an arched eyebrow in response, Kara quickly folded under her wife’s stare. “Well, I didn’t listen to everything.”

“Do tell, zrhemin.” Lena suppressed a grin.

Kara made to adjust glasses that weren’t there, quickly shifting to scratch her cheek. “Fine. I’ve been listening since ‘piss on the ashes’”. But in my defense, I could hear your heartrate was elevated and I got worried.”

Satisfied, Lena shrugged. The color had seemed to drain from Cat’s face after Kara’s confession, her eyebrows hitting her hairline. An awkward silence followed. Cat and Lena appeared to be in a stare down while Kara tried to avoid looking either one in the eye. Lena emerged as the victor of the silent battle; Cat turned to face Kara. Kier…Kara, I owe you an apology…”

“Miss Grant, you don’t have to apologize,” Kara cut her off with a wave of her hand.

“No, Kara, I do.” Cat took a focusing breath and swallowed thickly. “Your wife is right; I haven’t always been very nice to you. I’ve been disrespectful, callous, and sometimes, downright abusive; none of which you’ve deserved.” Kara was beaming as Cat spoke, now the third person in the room being brought to tears. “Sufficed to say, I will work harder to…be more positive with my feedback…and, at the very least, call you by your given name.”

Cat hesitantly approached Kara and after an awkward amount of positioning, embraced her in a tight hug. The floodgates opened and all three women had tears streaking their faces: Cat and Kara for obvious reasons, and Lena…well…goddamn hormones!

Kara and Cat pulled back from their embrace and messily wiped away their tears, a few sniffles coming from both women. “Thank you, Miss Grant. I accept your apology,” Kara said, a slight tremble in her voice.

Cat smiled at her warmly. “Kara, I think at this point you can call me Cat.”

Kara gasped in shock before devolving into clapping and squealing excitedly. “Ok…Cat,” she said with an overdramatic swagger.

Cat and Lena exchanged an eyeroll but didn’t comment on the Kryptonian being a spastic dork.

Cat leveled Kara with her best boss-stare, quickly pulling the hero out of her giddiness. “That is until I win the election. Then you’ll have to address me as Madame President.”

#supercorp #supercorptober2023 #kara danvers #lena luthor #cat grant

94 notes · View notes