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colourful-void · 3 years

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Supporting Satoshi - an examination and comparison of JN36 and XY121

Part One: Snowballs do not cure depression but it was worth a shot

You know that episode of Pokemon where a gym leader beats Satoshi in a battle so hard that one of his pokemon gets mildly hurt (though there's no long term effects) and because of it he becomes depressed, closing himself off from his friends before someone comes along to pull him out of that mental state, and also severe weather phenomena is involved and a reflection of a persons mental state? Or rather, the two episodes?

So when I was watching Journeys, I noticed an episode that had a similar-- but distinctly different-- plot to an xy episode I had seen before. And what was particularly interesting was that while I couldn't stand the xy episode, the journeys episode was one of my favourites. I won't drag this out for you guys, I love the journeys episode and re watch it a LOT and the xy episode sort of just leaves me with a sour taste in my mouth. and don't go claiming its solely ship bias, because i saw the xy episode first and disliked it then.

This will analyze both of these episodes, comparing them against each other. Specifically within the context of how Goh and Serena both help Satoshi through a similar situation There will be some discussion of AmourShipping and Satogou in this analysis. I'm going to be a bit negative regarding Serena's actions and the potential "romantic" weight of them here, but I want to be clear that I Do Not dislike Serena as a character. Personally, I wish the writers had given her more room to grow outside of her romantic interests, but I do not hate Serena as a character. I do, however, disagree with her actions in this episode. Please don't take this out of context and dont be ship fighting in the comments, it's boring. This is a comparison of These Two Episodes, not of Goh and Serena and their respective ships as a whole.

This part mainly focuses on the xy episode and the second will focus mainly on the journeys. It's only divided into parts because of the tumblr post limit.

(If you like the xy episode or hate the journeys episode, awesome! having your own opinions is great. these are mine though, so i hope you'll listen to them)

With that out of the way, let's start. And I'm going to use mostly japanese names here because I'm taking screencaps from the subbed japanese copies.

The set up for each of these episodes is eerily similar as pointed out in the gag at the start.

Xy has a bit more set up before the episode in question though, with the initial loss and retreat into the forest by Satoshi taking place the episode before. The episode opens up proper with Satoshi taking time to breathe to himself, alone in the forest.

Emphasis is placed on him taking a deep breath, aided by the visuals showing them (thanks cold air) and the silence of the rest of the soundscape, with the only other sounds being the wind and some bird pokemon, plus some falling snow.

Journeys Satoshi starts off in a better mental state than Xy, with the episode starting off with him jogging along with his pokemon.

However, we can still see that he's been affected by the last battle he lost, against Saitou, as he's putting a lot of effort into training and doing better.

Which, doesn't go well for him, as he loses his next two battles as well, and drops in the World Championship ranking as a result

And he's pretty upset about it too. Same thing as over in xy. In both cases, a respective friend/love interest notes that Satoshi is upset and expresses concern.

He's got support from his friends in both situations! But that support comes across in very different ways.

But, to understand how that support manages to affect Satoshi, we need to understand the problem at play.

Now, I wanna make something clear here. Satoshi's problem is not that he is a sore loser. I'm not arguing that's not a contributing factor, or that he's not upset about the loss (particularly in the world championships), He's still bitter about the lost part, but the root of the problem is not losing, he's been shown to be fine with losing (if not a bit more motivated to win now) in prior episodes.

Satoshi's problem is that his pokemon are getting hurt. Satoshi's problem is that his pokemon are getting hurt, because they're losing battles. Satoshi's problem is that his pokemon are losing battles because he's not training them well enough. And to clarify, that's not my viewpoint, it's his. Satoshi's problem is that he's not good enough for himself, and he feels that that's something he has to fix on his own.

So how do we help him?

Our weather event in question is introduced in separate points in the episodes, but I'll cover them both now.

In xy, it's this snowstorm, which conveniently becomes a problem directly after Serena returns to the Pokemon Centre.

In journeys, it's a sandstorm! That's in near direct contrast to a snowstorm! Incredible.

Heading back to xy Satoshi, things aren't going great in the forest. Luckily, Serena's run off to find him.

I think it's of note here that Serena runs off with the best intentions, she wants to help Satoshi, plain and simple. It just sort of goes wrong along the way.

It's worth noting that Xy Satoshi tries to bring himself out of being sad by the tried and true method of "stop being sad"

Despite telling himself this, he doesn't get anywhere. Which makes sense, because it's not getting the the root of the problem. It's not even addressing it at all. He's just trying to 'be better', which isn't even a battle strategy. However, it is something I can see him saying, so this isn't a critique of Satoshi's thought process, but me pointing out that this isn't really effective. Which is supported by the narrative, because again, he doesn't get anywhere, he doesn't even move.

I can't show it in screencaps but the lights in Satoshi's eyes are shaking here, something that they consistently do throughout the series when he's feeling a particularly strong emotion. Keep that in mind. It couples well with another trait of his, and that's his hat!

And by that I mean how he hides his eyes with the brim of it when upset, something he does exactly as Serena shows up and calls out to him. Now, he's not upset that Serena is here. He's upset about the pokemon stuff still. He's trying to hide the fact that he's upset from Serena.

Serena starts off with her speech well, trying to appeal to Satoshi to let her in and talk things out. And maybe it's because he wasn't ready for it yet, or because of the way she phrases it (a lot of 'i' and 'me' language which can be helpful but can also come across as though she's making it about her. not her intent i don't think, but a possible interpretation.), it's not her fault for how Satoshi reacts regardless.

But how Satoshi reacts is not good.

Now it's really interesting to note that before this, Serena was standing while Satoshi was sitting, putting her above him in terms of active power, when it comes to how the shot is presented, but when Satoshi stands up, the camera tilts with the movement so that they're on equal level. Neat!

And Serena yells in return, scolding Satoshi for not talking about it. Not the best move, since pushing someone to talk about something that's upsetting them isn't really productive, but she's trying here and she's frustrated.

Satoshi continues to withdraw and self isolate, claiming it is his problem and that he wants to be left be. Now, this is the mindset of a clearly upset person and isolation may not be the best option, but he did make the explicit request to be left alone here.

He's clearly upset as he turns away from Serena's eye and slumps over a little.

And then Serena throws a snowball at him.

Angry as he is, you can see Satoshi's expression change when he sees Serena's reaction.

Serena tells Satoshi that she's not like the Satoshi she knows, who is always full of energy and positive and a leader, and a bunch of other positive traits. The problem here, is that Serena's looking at an idealized version of Satoshi. And while the intent here was probably meant to be something more like "you have so many wonderful traits about you I know you can do this", coupled with the snowballs and the phrasing, it seems as though Serena is scolding Satoshi for being sad.

Or rather, being angry with him for not living up to her idealized version of him, and not wanting him to express any negitave emotions.

Which is sort of a really bad mindset.

The snowballs continue, never once does Satoshi fight back. In fact, he stops arguing entirely after the first one. Serena knocks him off his feet and tells him he's not being himself, before running off. (In the english dub, Serena claims that Satoshi isn't being "the real satoshi" and then demands that the real Satoshi be "given back", so it could be worse)

Satoshi decides to literally run his problems away, because it will help him reach some kind of conclusion, and immediately trips and falls down a large hill. No, I'm not making that up. Something like this just isn't like him. He's just gotta stop being sad!

Now personally, I really disagree with the idea that "being upset" isn't "like a person". That's because based off of my own experiences, I know it can be really damaging to hold the mindset that any negative emotions you feel aren't a part of you and that you shouldn't be upset because you're usually a positive and happy person. Not the case with every person, but I personally really have a problem with shows telling children that they just shouldn't be upset instead of processing their emotions in a meaningful way. (The journeys episode doesn't do an outstanding job of it either, but this is a bit of a tangent anyway. A show that does do this right is "OK KO! Let's be Heroes" which actually deals with this problem in greater depth and does a fantastic job of it.)

But the snowball scene ends here. Now I'll get back to Journeys in a moment, but since Serena has finished her part of the comparison for the most part, I'm going to summarize a bit more of the xy episode.

Satoshi decides to literally run his problems away, because it will help him reach some kind of conclusion, and immediately trips and falls down a large hill. No, I'm not making that up.

The snowstorm kicks in, Serena get back annoyed, then similarly groans and yells, and the whole xy gang + pokemon go running off in search of Satoshi. Pikachu appears the most concerned.

Now Serena tells the others she lost her cool and said something horrible to Satoshi, but explains its because Satoshi is someone she admires. Cool motive, I get it, still kinda bad.

and in the end, it's not Serena's words that get he message across to Satoshi. The solution to this problem was Satoshi finding a way to reaffirm his abilities and instinct.

In the xy episode, he helps some pokemon out of the tree, and when his very cool frog friend shows up, they're able to work together with their bond to save this one from falling off a cliff.

Here's the point. Satoshi learns by doing, by actions. He needs to see first hand that there are ways of getting past his problems, and that it's worth having the courage to keep going. The lesson is about valuing pokemon as equals and partners, and specifically that trying to be better as the trainer alone isn't going to help.

This is essentially where this plot line ends, team rocket is there for a bit as well but as much as i love them they're not relevant here, and some fun stuff with the league, love it not important right now its like 3am and I'm not sleeping until this is finished so we gotta keep things moving.

This was no doubt Serena's intent to get a similar point, but she goes about it the wrong way. She tries to convey this with words, as conversation and motivational words have helped her in the past (Elle's words of praise stick with her, Satoshi's words from when they were kids, etc). It's a good idea, but their different ways of learning and growing from a similar situation are incompatible, and that's why things don't work out in Serena's favour. There's also still the problem of "pulling yourself together" not being helpful in this case.

There's also a very similar line in this scene to the one at the end of the journeys episode, as Satoshi says to his frog that they should start over from scratch. It's essentially the same phrase with different wording. It's great. The Storm ends as he realizes this as well! Wonderful in terms of pathetic fallacy.

The gang all reunites, its nice. Satoshi thanks Serena for what she said after apologizing to everyone, which contradicts what he said earlier but I've already established that I dislike this message here so I won't go over it too much. I guess he's right in a literal sense in that in response to her words he went and ran until he tripped off a cliff but the emotional growth here was because of his own actions (and the frogs), not Serena's. Sorry Serena, you'll get em next time.

So. What about Goh?

Well...

(Part Two here on account of image limit!!)

#pokemon #anipoke #pokeani #pokemon analysis #pokemon xy #pokemon xyz #trainer ash #trainer serena #trainer goh #i dont wanna use the amourshipping tag to put negtivity in it that seems mean #analysis #this was written in the 2-3am area but the next part was written 12 hours later so thats a neat fact #long post

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mostlysignssomeportents · 4 years

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VICTORY! New Free File rules ban tax-prep firms from hiding their offerings, allow IRS to compete with them (a love-letter to Propublica)

Six months ago, Propublica began beating the drum about "Free File," a bizarre, corrupt arrangement between the IRS and the country's largest tax-prep firms that ended up costing the poorest people in America millions and millions of dollars, every single year.

The scam is one of those baroque, ultimately boring and complex stories that generally dies in the public imagination despite its urgency, because "boring and urgent" is the place where the worst people can do the worst things with the least consequences.

With that warning, here's a short summary: in most wealthy countries, the tax authority fills out your tax return for you, using the information your employer already has to file every time it pays your wages. If all the numbers look right to you, you just sign the bottom of the form and send it back, without paying a tax preparer. If, on the other hand, you want to claim extra deductions, or if something complicated is going on with your finances, you can throw away that free tax return and fill in a form from scratch, either on your own or with the help of a professional.

When Americans asked to have the same courtesy extended to them -- a move that would save the vast majority of Americans millions and millions of dollars they were currently paying to the likes of HR Block and Intuit/Turbotax, every single year of their entire working lives -- the tax-prep industry mobilized to kill the proposal. The industry (which is highly concentrated and dominated by a small handful of firms whose top execs have mostly done time in all their competitors' board rooms, making them into essentially one giant company whose different divisions have different shareholders) lobbied the IRS very hard, and won a resounding victory.

That victory is called "Free File." Under Free File, each tax prep company is required to serve a slice of working Americans with free, online tax-preparation. The arrangement was hailed as a victory for public-private partnerships, harnessing the efficiency of the private sector to perform this public duty of the state. Importantly, it meant that the IRS would not expand its headcount or budget, both of which had been slashed by successive right-wing presidents and their legislative enablers. The move was cheered by anti-tax extremists like Grover Nordquist, who was delighted by the "efficiency" of you saving a bunch of pieces of paper the government already had, typing them into an online form, and hoping that a company's website came up with the same calculations that the government had already made about your tax-bill.

Part of the Free File deal banned the IRS from creating a competing offer and it banned the IRS from advertising the existence of the program or telling people where to find the free offering.

As soon as the ink was dry on Free File, the tax-prep companies set about to sabotage it. Intuit -- a massive company led by a bizarre cult figure -- and its competitors hid their Free File offerings deep in their sites, and used the "robots.txt" system to instruct search engines to hide them. They took out search ads for the phrase "Free File" that directed users to paid offerings with the word "free" in their names. They created "Free File" systems that would make you go through hours of work entering your data before surprising you with a notice that you didn't qualify for Free File because you'd paid interest on a student loan (or some other normal thing) and then ask you if you wanted to pay to keep your work and finish your tax-return in the non-free system.

There's a simple name for this kind of activity: fraud.

But it was a fraud in plain sight, one that went on for years and years, and which created a stealth tax on the majority of Americans, which they had to remit not to the IRS, but to the tax-prep companies, which used the money to lobby to make it even harder to get away from handing them your money every year.

Enter Propublica, whose relentless reporting did the seemingly impossible: it made a complicated, boring important thing into something that millions of Americans cared about. Something they cared about so deeply that they actually managed to shame the IRS into taking action.

Remember, the IRS is an administrative agency, under the direct control of the Trump administration. That means its commander-in-chief is a guy who said dodging his taxes means that he's "smart." While the IRS has many good, hardworking staffers, it has also been demoralized and gutted by the right, who have convinced millions of poor people that it's somehow in their interests if it's easier for rich people to duck their taxes.

Despite all this, the IRS has enacted new Free File rules: first, these rules ban tax-prep companies from hiding their Free File offerings, and it bans them from using deceptive names for non-Free File offerings (Turbotax will no longer be allowed to confuse Americans by offering "Turbotax Free" -- which is not free -- as a competitor to "Turbotax Free File," which is).

Second, the rule allows the IRS to develop its own competing Free File product, which means that the government agency that already knows how much tax you owe will allow you to review its findings each year and then either challenge them, or simply click OK, without paying a single cent of tax to Intuit or HR Block, and free you from filling in lengthy, bureaucratic forms.

This outcome is nothing short of miraculous: it did not come as the result of Congressional action. It did not come as the result of the Trump administration's inattention (the release came out the same day that the Trump administration revised its tax rules to allow money launderers to retain billions in the loot they've stashed offshore).

It came about as the result of fucking journalism. Propublica wrote its way into a better world, with relentless, deep, accessible reporting that made this boring, important thing come to life.

I am sympathetic to the idea that talking about politics isn't doing politics, but that's not entirely true. Learning about what's going on and telling the people you know about it and getting them to tell others is part of how we make change. Propublica's excellent reporting wouldn't have mattered if people hadn't read it -- and talked about it.

And Propublica has done this repeatedly over the past year, deeply reporting on naked, grotesque corruption in ways so vivid and undeniable that they actually changed things, and not in some abstract, boring way, but in ways that matter to the immediate, lived experience of real people who had been brutalized and poisoned and jailed and mistreated with impunity, for years, until Propublica wrote about it.

Here are some examples, just from the stories I paid attention to this year (Propublica does so much good work that I can't manage to cover all of it):

* Reformed South Carolina's "magistrate judge" system that let "judges" with no legal background and less training than barbers sentence poor people (most of them Black) to prison in defiance of their constitutional rights;

* Dismantled Illinois's system of Quiet Rooms where special ed kids were put into solitary confinement, sometimes for days at a time;

* Shamed a "Christian" hospital into ending its practice of suing thousands of patients, many of them its own employees, for inability to pay their medical debts, and forcing it to jettison the private army of debt collectors it kept on its payroll.

* Killed an Illinois scam whereby affluent parents temporarily gave up custody of their own children so they could steal college grants earmarked for poor children;

* Got two Louisiana cops fired for encouraging people to murder Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez;

In addition, Propublica has done lots of reporting that hasn't yet created political transformations, but has changed our debate and laid the groundwork for change to come: called attention to the penniless hero of the ransomware epidemic; discredited a "walking polygraph" system used by police forces to frame their preferred suspects with sheer junk science; documented the link between pharma company bribes and doctors' prescribing; named every former lobbyist in the Trump administration; tracked every penny of the 2008 bailout money; documented Wayne LaPierre's self-dealing from the NRA's war-chests; documented the grifty conservative PACs that scammed millions out of scared old white people with racist Obama conspiracies and then kept the money for themselves; published a blockbuster story on the theft of southern Black families' ancestral lands through a legal grift called "heirs' property"; debunked the "aggression detection" mics being installed in America's classrooms; outed a "ransomware consultant" that was working with ransomware crooks to simply pay the ransom, while pretending that they were able to get you your files back without enriching the crooks who locked them up; named and shamed Alabama sheriffs who lost their re-election bids and then spent thousands of public dollars on frisbees or stole discretionary funds, or destroyed food earmarked for prisoners, or drilled holes in all the department computers' hard-drives in a form of "vindictive hazing"; followed the payday lender industry to a Trump hotel where it staged an annual conference, funneling millions to the president's personal accounts shortly before Trump reversed Obama's curbs on predatory lending; documented how TSA body-scanners single out Black women for humiliating, discriminatory hair-searches; revealed the secret history of wealthy people destroying the IRS's Global High Wealth Unit; and did outstanding work on the Sackler family, a group of billionaire opioid barons whose products kickstarted the opioid epidemic that has now claimed more American lives than the Vietnam war.

2019 was a dumpster-fire of a year and 2020 could be worse -- or it could be the dawn that breaks after our darkest hour. Finding Propublica's victory lap on Free File on New Year's Day was just the sunrise I needed to give me hope for the year to come. Sometimes, simply finding the truth and telling it to the people can make a change.

I'm a Propublica donor, and an avid reader. I admit that sometimes when I see that PP has published another 15,000-word expose, I am slightly dismayed at the thought that I'm about to lose 1-2 hours of my life to digesting and writing up the new story, but that dismay is always overcome by excitement at the thought that they have turned over a new rock and found something genuinely awful beneath it, and that, with all our help, we can sterilize that foetid sludge with blazing sunshine.

https://boingboing.net/2019/12/31/go-propublica-go.html

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jaehotbuns · 3 years

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idolboyfriend!mark

♡ 2.6k, fluff =^._.^= ∫

you first met Mark on a Nature Republic photo shoot where your friend was a hair stylist

she called you frantically because the SM staff caught multiple employees from each department posting on their personal social media stories the location and whereabouts of the members and dismissed them from the site

they were shooting at an island in the middle of nowhere which you were conveniently writing a thesis on different landscapes of South Korea

you had no experience of styling other people and only did it for yourself but you knew you couldn’t leave your friend deserted so you came to help in any way that you could

half of the staff were fired on the spot so they immediately pushed you towards the members to prepare them for their next shoot after threatening legal action if you decided to act as stupidly as the other stylists did

you saw your friend quickly adjusting the collar of theHawaiian shirt that was roughly put on Jaehyun and she gave you an apologetic look and mouthed a ‘thank you’

you were assigned at styling Mark’s hair, which you were scared of because you had never styled a man’s hair before never mind a celebrity but you squared your shoulders and hoped for the best

he was already used to the chaos but he was slightly concerned at how well you would perform considering that your eyebrows were furrowed and had sweat rolling down your temples as you scrunched the ends of his hair with mousse to create beachy waves

every stylist that he met was always either professional and stoic or overly friendly to try and get with the members romantically but he tried to suppress his laughter when he saw your distressed face under your medical mask

in such a stressful and hectic situation, he would never talk to the staff to help them focus but he couldn’t help but strike up a conversation with you

you looked younger than him too so he felt more comfortable

“first time?” he asked with a smile on his face as he looked up at you

your hands stopped in the middle of combing the fluffy mousse through his hair and your face dropped slightly, “you could tell?”

Mark covered his laugh with his hand as he didn’t want to discourage you but couldn’t help but chuckle at the cute expression on your face

“yeah,” he answered but then realized that it came out meaner than he had intended

“but you’re doing a great job! Keep going!” He tried to encourage you by motioning with his hands to continue

you patted his hair into place for finishing touches but you pouted under your mask when you realized, “how would you know? You can’t even see it”

there were no mirrors in sight except for the hand mirrors that stylists held on their belt

he choked on his saliva out of embarrassment and rubbed his hand awkwardly on the back of his neck

“well let’s see then!” He exclaimed and you begrudgingly gave him the hand mirror to see

you were bracing yourself in case he thought you made his hair into a bird’s nest and demanded you to be fired on the spot but he let a “wahh” escape his mouth as he admired the hairstyle

“this actually looks great!” He said a little too excitedly

“we were both expecting it to look bad then, huh?” You joked but really you were relieved that he thought it didn’t look atrocious

Mark shook his head to deny but you held his shoulders in place to not disrupt his hair

his face went pink and you realized that you just touched a client, a very influential client

you lifted your hands off of him quickly and stepped back so that he could stand up from his chair and go in front of the cameras to prepare for the shoot

“thank you” he said and you both exchanged bows before awkwardly getting back to work

you stayed on the set with your friend for the rest of the day until the sun went down and the sky turned a bright pink from the previous ocean blue

luckily, that was the last hair and clothes change that NCT needed and everyone started to pack up after the photographer and managers shouted “thank you for your work” and everyone bowed and clapped to each other

while each member started to load into their vans to get back to the city for their next schedule, Mark ran up to you and asked if you were apart of the SM staff or were for hire from another beauty boutique

“oh, I just came last minute,” you said

“I’m not actually licensed for this I came to help”

he let out a disappointed “oh” and decided not to take your number down since it was unprofessional and knew that after the fiasco today that there could be anyone around to expose him if he did

“good night, see you around,” he said in hopes that he would see you again

you doubted that he would see you around but you repeated what he said and waved at him as he ran into the van

the other members were confused as to why he ran off to greet you and were ready to tease him since they noticed that you were his type physically

but he knew that they were about to so he lied and said that he forgot to take a bracelet from you and pretended to fall asleep so that they couldn’t question him further

you thought about that was a once in a lifetime experience until 2 weeks later the campaign was a hit and everyone was fawning over Mark specifically since he looked like boyfriend material in a white button up shirt and blue jeans with messy beach hair

your friend called to tell you that she recommended you as a freelance hair stylist after they asked her who did Mark’s hair

as a broke college student living in another country you took the offer but felt guilty getting an amazing job with no credentials so you got licensed at a beauty school within 2 months

the next time you saw Mark was on the Punch music video set

he had everything on except makeup and hair

you were taken aback at how different he looked with the leather pieces, chain jewelry, and overall bad boy vibes

he was sitting in front of the dressing room vanities and his face lit up when he saw you stand behind him with your cart of hair products and tools

usually he’d stay still in his chair but this time he turned around to face you, “hey! I thought you said you weren’t even licensed?”

“I decided to after getting offered a job” you smiled

he turned around and looked at you through the mirror’s reflection, “or did you come back because of me?”

you coughed through your mask and felt the heat creep from your neck all the way to your cheeks and temples

Mark smiled to himself when he saw your bright red face and was even more excited for the music video shoot knowing that the stylist he thought was cute would be doing his hair on a regular basis and could see him act cool on stage

to not let you out of his sights again, Mark pulled his phone off of the vanity table in front of him and went straight to his Instagram search page, “can I have your Insta by the way?”

you were combing the translucent gel through his hair when you tilted your head out of curiosity of why he would want your socials

“I send what kind of hairstyles and concepts I’d like to try to stylists on here,” he said

in actuality Mark wasn’t one of the idols that really cared of how his stylists dressed him like Johnny or Jaehyun but he wanted an excuse so that his interest in you was too obvious

“oh sure,” you spelled out your Instagram handle and you saw him follow you right away

for the rest of the shoot for the two days that it took place, Mark would admire you every time you came up to him between scenes to wipe the sweat off his forehead and to spray his hair with setting mist

although you were a fan of the group, you didn’t want to make them uncomfortable so you invested all of your focus on making them look their best

Mark appreciated that; you weren’t completely cold and professional but you also didn’t cross any boundaries by asking him about his personal life or interviewing him like some new stylists did

when you got home you decided to look at Mark’s profile and saw that he was only following his family, friends from Vancouver, idols friends, and a few celebrities that he looked up to

you were the only staff member that he was following other than his managers

but you didn’t think for a second Mark liked you

even though during promotions he would text you on his time off about your day and ask you about yourself

“because I don’t want to be to formal” was his excuse to his unofficial game of 21 questions

even though after promotions when he was on his break, he’d ask you to go shopping with him “to get some inspiration from uh hair stuff”

at one point he was bold enough to ask you to go to a cafe because he said he felt like you two were friends at one point

behind the scenes, Johnny caught on quickly at how Mark was on his phone more often when he’d usually just use it to play mobile games or listen to music

“I don’t think you left the bracelet with the pretty stylist,” Johnny would tease Mark one day when he saw him re-reading your texts and smiling to himself

“you left your heart,” he’d say and slap himself on the knee from laughing too hard at his own joke

“can you get out of my room?” Mark would retort in embarrassment but it was worse for him from there

Johnny told both floors that Mark had a big fat crush on the young stylist and was flirting with them 24/7

Mark wasn’t really the type to get in his feelings

sure he’d find different celebrities or employees that he’d work with attractive but he knew it was for business or that they’d just be really good friends in the industry

but you felt like home

like he could imagine that if he was back in Vancouver that you two would meet at a library or something and he’d ask you for a coffee after you asked him to watch your bag to go to the washroom

that was what he’d imagine before he went to sleep at night anyways

half of the time he’d stay up thinking about asking you out officially and keeping your relationship as a secret and the other half of the time he’d kick his blankets scolding himself for even thinking that because it would put both of your careers on the line and he didn’t want you to feel the burden of dating in secret

you also had feelings for Mark but thought that he was just friendly and flirty

even if he did have feelings for you, you thought that it would be best to just stay as friends because you didn’t want to get in the way of his career

one day Mark couldn’t take it anymore and went to the convenient store by himself instead of riding bikes with Haechan and Renjun like he originally planned to

they noticed that he didn’t get embarrassed or annoyed at the teasing anymore and just kept to himself so they followed him to the store and found him outside on a bench with a beer in his hand

both of them sat beside him and Haechan grabbed the beer and took a swig, “just tell her”

Mark placed his elbows on his knees and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, “I don’t want to ruin it for us… Or for her”

Renjun placed a hand on his shoulder reassuringly, “if you both have strong feelings for each other then it’ll always work out in the end”

Mark shook his head although he appreciated the support, “what if the stress gets us to break up? What if I make it awkward for her at work?”

Haechan stopped him and told him sternly, “I see the way you two look at each other and I know that she’d accept if you asked. If the press or pressure causes you to break up then at least you tried.”

Renjun added on more gently, “do you just want to continue suffering forever? What if she’s waiting for you too?”

Mark didn’t want to think about it any longer and as a lightweight, the 2 cans of beer in his system were already giving him courage

if he had another night to think about it, he’d probably never confess to you so he decided in his tipsy state to confess right then

with urgency, he told you to meet you at Hangang River right away

“thank you guys,” he said while standing up too quickly

he stumbled a little bit before starting to walk towards the meeting place, “I can do it!”

“you can do it!” Renjun laughed while holding up too fists to show his support

Haechan on the other hand held up his phone and started to record Mark walking clumsily towards the river, “don’t mess up loser!”

you were finishing up on your readings when you got Mark’s text

it sounded like he was going to confess but you shook the thought out of your head at the thought of a global star asking you out

“probably wants to de-stress with a friend,” you thought before putting on a hoodie and jeans before walking to Hangang

when you arrived you could smell a mixture of beer and mint in his breath

His face was flushed pink which was a result of the alcohol and the 2.2km he had just walked

“why did you call me out all of a sudden?” You asked

“will you go out with me?” He said a little bit too loudly

you quickly looked around to make sure that no one was within a kilometre near you too and asked in a hushed voice, “what?”

“I like you!” He nearly shouted, not aware of his volume due to the nervousness of the chance of rejection

“I tried not to like you ever since I met you but I can’t get you out of my head,” he avoided your gaze and couldn’t believe how cheesy he sounded

Mark continued regardless, “I know that we have to date in secret if you do like me but I promise to protect you and I won’t regret my decision if anything happens. So uh-”

“yes,” you grinned. “I’ll go out with you”

he was surprised at how you accepted with ease, “oh wow I wasn’t expecting this. Thank you for listening to me talk on haha, I don’t even know what to say I-”

to stop his blabbering you held onto his arms to steady yourself for when you went on your tippy toes to peck him on the lips

“that’s not fair” he pouted

“what’s not fair?”

“that’s it?” He murmured under his breath

“then get some more” you teased

his hands cupped the sides of your face and bent his neck down to reach your height

your hand wrapped around his waist to pull him into a hug while his warm lips pressed onto yours

165 notes · View notes

caiuscassiuss · 4 years

Text

Birched⎮D. Sicheng (M) P.1

Description: There was something that lurked beneath that pretty boy smile of Dong Sicheng— something dark, something dangerous… something you knew you would get pulled into once you got too curious. (Or, your ill-tempered coworker turns out to be your dominant.)

Sicheng♡Female! Reader

Genre: BDSM/ enemies to lovers winwin! smut | romance | angst WC: 11k+ Warnings: graphic smut (dom! sicheng + sub! reader, BDSM (Bondage, Dominance, Submission, and Masochism) paddling, fellatio, fingering), taboo relationship, blatant sexism, TW: mentions of an abusive relationship

(A/N: Thank you to my amazing beta @won-markiepooh-woo for helping me. This story wouldn’t have been possible without you!!!!

Also, this story contains heavy and graphic BDSM with violent contact play and uncomfortable dialogue. You might not like Sicheng very much here. 18+ please.)

Red, red light highlighted the contours of the woman’s back, and threw the rest of the room into dark, dark shadows.

Slap.

A long, drawn-out, strained moan resounded,.

A sinful smile crawled up the tall, slender man’s face as he looked down at her.

January 5th, 2020

Raesung, Lee

Re: Important Office Notification —

To: y/nl/[email protected], [email protected], [email protected]… view 389 more

To all whom it may concern,

It is my greatest displeasure to be announcing my resignation and consequent retirement from Sinochen Enterprises. I had been the Head of the Sales Department in this great company for over 10 years and it has been a pleasurable experience to work with all of 500 you, in order to better our enterprise.

Words cannot express how grateful I am to all of you, from the interns to my managers, for working hard and honestly over all these years. We experienced a 468% sales increase over my tenure, and it couldn’t have been possible without any of you.

My resignation will be announced tomorrow at noon, but I thought it would be better to get a heads up from myself. In the meantime, until a new successor is appointed, my vice president, Xiao Daiyu, will step in and act in my place. A new email regarding possible successors will soon circulate shortly, and I advise all of you to keep an eye out for it.

Once again, I thank all of you deeply for these wonderful 10 years at Sinochen Enterprises, and I wish the utmost success for this company and all of you individually.

Regards,

Raesung Lee

Department Head of Salesforce at Sinochen Enterprises

Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

Office 1876, 18th floor

Phone: +852 XXXX XXXX ext. 1876

On one side of the island, a woman finished reading her work email. She remained calm, scrolled through her other emails, and shut down her laptop after seeing no such material.

She faced her high rise window, contemplating the Hong Kong skyline.

The email was written in the usual arrogant tone that her Korean boss took. Not a surprise, seeing as she worked with him nearly every day as the South Asia Region Sales Manager. She sighed, kicking up her feet on the coffee table.

A new successor? Y/N L/N hoped and prayed that it would be her.

On the other side of the island, a man finished reading his work email. He remained calm, scrolled through his other emails, and shut down his laptop after seeing no such material.

He faced his high rise window, contemplating the Hong Kong skyline.

Of course, the man was anticipating this as his East Asia Regional Sales Manager. The old coot was due for his retirement, so he could spend time with his many mistresses. He sighed and kicked up his feet on the coffee table.

A new successor? Dong Sicheng knew it like the sky was blue that it would be him.

January 6th, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

7 AM HKT

It was a rather chilly morning, as your assistant knocked softly on the oak door. You finished putting your light coat on the stand. As you hummed for her to come in, she slowly creaked open the door.

She smiled brightly at you. Genuine, to boot. “Morning, Miss L/N. Do you want any pastries, or breakfast goods, to go along with your usual macchiato?”

You considered BeiBei a good secretary—prompt, meticulous, and all what an assistant should be. Sociable, too. However, even with all her amiable requests for lunch or coffee, you couldn’t consider her as a good friend. After all, there was to be a balance of power to be maintained.

“Yes, that would be great.”

Like everything else in your life.

Work went on as usual in the office—you dealt with the clients, you dealt with HR, you dealt with this and that.

BeiBei knocked softly at the door. She peeked in through the door with her sunglasses perched atop her brunette locks and a scarf around her neck.

“Miss L/N? They asked all of the sales department to meet in Ballroom D for an announcement.”

It was noon already? Christ. “Alright, let me get my things and I’ll go along with you.”

You grabbed your cell phone and Dior sunglasses, then quickly headed out with BeiBei. You lagged behind her slightly as she socialized with her other coworkers, laughing uproariously at some inside joke between them.

You wondered what it was like to be able to make real bonds in the office.

Out of your periphery, a large group coming from the other side of the floor was bustling their way through. In the midst, you could see the blonde head of Dong Sicheng, looking down at his friends as if they were his royal subjects.

Psh, you could never see what was the fuss around this boy. To be fair, objectively, he was good-looking... in that pretty boy kind of way. All of his older, middle-aged coworkers looked like pigs next to his lean, pale figure. Yet, all of the sales department, and probably half of the office, thought he was the next best thing since the vibrator.

You thought he seemed too nice, too friendly to be true. Sicheng had the innocent flower boy looks, but you could see the dark edge he kept from everyone. You could see how his smiles never reached his eyes, how his words were always friendly but strained. Dong Sicheng was disingenuous as hell, and it bothered you, but why waste energy over such a matter?

You’d rather focus on other, more productive things.

Namely, the Sales Head promotion.

Your South Asia and his East Asia division converged in the middle of the lobby, forming an even more boisterous crowd. Everyone slowly piled into the elevators to go down.

You were reaching the chokehold of the crowd, but unfortunately you were a bit on the shorter side. It was hard to see where you were going in this crowd, and you wouldn’t dare raise yourself up on your tippy toes, like some fresh intern.

“Ladies first.”

You looked up to see Dong Sicheng smiling at you brightly—his arm extended to herd you into the crowded elevator. You couldn’t help but see a mocking tinge to the curl of his lips.

“Thank you,” you said.

After you had stepped into the elevator, he followed immediately afterwards. You had no choice but to be eye level with Sicheng’s chest. You two were so close that you could smell his cologne, and it briefly think of his cologne all around you—

No. Never. No. No. No. No. No. Nope.

Dong Sicheng would not tempt you.

January 6th, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

9 AM HKT

The department filed out of the ballroom, murmuring amongst themselves about the new development.

“Oh my god, we all know Xiao Daiyu will never be promoted. Yeah, she may be vice president, but Daiyu can’t do shit.”

“Well, who do you think will be promoted?”

“Certainly not you, Lina.”

“Hey, I—”

A new voice enters. “I, for one, think Y/N should be promoted. She’s smart, driven, and you actually get things done when you work with her.”

A hum of agreement went over the little group. Some of them nodded along quietly.

“That’s not a bad idea. She’s cold as hell and kind of intimidating, but I wouldn’t mind working under her.”

You pretended not to hear their conversation, but you felt ecstatic to hear your name in regards to the promotion. It was hard to admit it to anyone other than yourself, but you thrived off of attention and vindication more than what was healthy. The satisfaction of being praised, of getting the answer correct or being complimented was as heady as being drugged.

“Y/N is great and all, but you know who’d I rather have as sales head? Dong Sicheng.”

Your jaw clenched unconciously when you heard that blond asshole’s name.

“Kinda agree. Sicheng’s friendly and it’s easy to talk to him. We also get a lot of work done with him too!”

You could not hear any more of the conversation as they had walked out of earshot, but you felt… sour. You swore to god—if that asshole gets the promotion, you will leave the damn company.

Well, whatever. The likes of Dong Sicheng would be wiped from your mind after the fun you would have tonight with Dolos.

January 6th, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

12 PM HKT

“Hey Sicheng, what did you order?” Some coworker of his said to him.

Sicheng felt an inward flush of irritation. Couldn’t people leave him the fuck alone and let him eat his meal in peace? Without interrupting him about how XX from the implementation team did this and YY from IT did that?

“Oh, hey, um—” What the fuck was his name again? Joon? Jin? “Jae, I ordered a teriyaki salad. It’s pretty good, I’d recommend it.”

There. That answered any potential questions Jae may have and clearly signalled the end of the conversation so he could eat in peace.

“What about the grilled chicken salad? Have you tried it?”

Alas, not all well-thought out plans would be fruitful.

He continued conversation with his inane coworkers around him at the lunch bistro they always frequented. It was tiring, keeping up the facade of a friendly office boy. His impatience wilted slowly as the people tittered and tattered, laughing and gossiping, god—they were so stupid.

“I like your tie, Sicheng. It’s very nice.”

He turned back towards the conversation as soon as he heard his name.

The so-called department hottie was staring at him from her seat a couch away—her eyes slightly widened, in an attempt to be vexing.

“Thank you, Tzuyu. Might I add, you look very nice today,” he said, as he forced a smile on his lips.

The brunette blushed heavily and turned away in bashfulness. Ugh.

Don’t get him wrong.He rather liked blush on a woman. But, Tzuyu was the kind of woman that would not put up any type of fight, if he chose to seduce her. Sicheng liked the thrill of the fight, the thrill of gradually pressing his control into someone until they were submissive to only him.

God, but Y/N was someone he’d like seduce.

Sicheng thought back to the moment when he courteously gave his spot in line to her, yet she only thanked him off-handedly. Y/N was the only one in the whole damn complex that didn’t give a fuck about his amiable facade and treated him as callously as one would beneath them. He clenched his fist, thinking how uppity and standoffish you were to snub him. That was something that couldn’t ever be forgotten.

Luckily, he knew his darling Dove would be there tonight to take the edge off his anger.

Friday January 18th, 2020

A Busy Street

6 PM HKT

You huddled a light coat around yourself as you checked the address on your phone.

353 Cornerstone Ave.

You looked up at the British colonial-style building, slightly reminiscent of the Ritz-Carlton a few blocks away. The building was probably a remnant of colonization. Nevertheless, it was beautiful.

Your heels clicked against the marble floor, as you dipped into the establishment named Black’s Spa. Swiping off your sunglasses, you beamed at the beautiful lady behind the receptionist desk.

“How may we help you today? Are there any services you would like provided?” she asked.

The corners of your lips turn up. You’ve always liked this part of the game, where you have to gain access into a club. It felt like you were a femme fatale in one of those old Bond movies your father loved.

“Hey, afternoon. I’ve been hearing about this rope treatment. I’ve heard it does wonders for your muscles.”

The girl’s pink tinted-lips twisted into a grin.

“Right this way.”

The zen, stark white corridors of the spa that the dungeon pretended to be eventually led to an innocuous bookshelf. The lady felt around the shelf for the handle underneath the dark wood paneling. A hum of affirmation left her mouth as she closed her well-manicured hands around it.

With a click, the shelf gave way to a dimly lit room that looked like the parlor of a traditional British gentleman’s club. What little light there was was provided by candles and glittering chandeliers, which reflected off of the dark oak paneling of the room. Rich Persian rugs and velvet sofas dotted the room, and the hum and tinkles of conversation meandered around. However, little details quickly ruined the impression that this was a respectable establishment of any sort.

For one, many individuals here were scantily clad. Yes, some were in suits and proper evening wear, but that was contrasted heavily by the diffusion of revealing lingerie sets and sculpted chests. Second, there were casual warning signs posted about the room, asking patrons to practice safe, healthy, and consensual sex, alongside the expensive paintings.

Black’s was the best dungeon in East Asia, no doubt. It was such a bitch to gain access into the club. Yet, what made Black’s so popular was not its top amenities or the luxurious atmosphere—it was the utmost anonymity it provided.

The depravity that happened in these walls stripped even the most upright individual to their most primal, lustful states. People became lumps of flesh, starving for the next release. The eclectic mix of businessmen, trust-fund kids, and professionals hungered for the anonymity that they would be hard-pressed to find in a regular dungeon (as regular as one could get for being a BDSM dungeon, anyway).

The best way Black’s maintained privacy?

Masks.

You quickly donned your own dove gray mask, securing the silk ribbons in your hair to prevent it from falling off. Tonight, you were Dove. Tomorrow, you will be Y/N. It was easy to slip into the subspace once you donned your mask, but you couldn’t really immerse yourself into it—not until your master came to you.

A quick glance at your watch told you it was only 10 PM. Dolos had told you in his letter that he would find you at 10:10. He certainly was a curious individual—one with an obsession with symmetry and a penchant for old-fashioned tradition. For fuck’s sake, his letter was sealed by a green wax seal.

But Dolos was everything you never knew you wanted.

Deciding to amuse yourself with one of the exhibition rooms, you wandered into one that seemed crowded. A girl was strung up on stage, hands bound with chains connected to the ceiling. Her black hair hung around her face and she was as naked as the day she was born. Her voluptuous figure bared to the hungry crowd—a metal table full of paraphernalia was next to the cross.

A brutish man, clad in a wifebeater and tight jeans, walked up to the stage.

“My slave has been rather naughty,” he announced. “She had the nerve to touch herself without my permission.”

A murmur arose from the crowd, whispering and gasping and giggling heard amongst the shadows. For a slave to pleasure herself, without her master’s permission, was a serious ordeal around these parts.

The man drew a finger against the side of her breasts, causing her to shiver and a gleam of arousal to run down her leg. “Today, my dear little slave will see what happens when she doesn’t obey her master seriously.”

“Let’s start with something light. Flogging.”

A curl of delight ran through you. You loved flogging; each hit stimulated different parts of your body that ultimately brought you to the brink of an edge. A bit of heat rose in your bosom imaging Dolos, with his Cat O’ Nine Tails, flogging your ass until you were red.

A whimper was heard as he struck her stomach lightly with a cat o’ nine tails. He began alternating strikes against her breasts and inner thighs, as she whimpered and cried, begging for her master to touch her there.

“Oh dear, only good girls get touched in their sweet spot. What’s the magic word?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Please, sir! Please!”

“Better.”

A strangled scream echoed throughout the hall, as he struck her repeatedly in between the crux of her legs. After the girl was left shaking, he whipped off the juices she left on the leather strands then threw it behind him. You shifted uncomfortably, crossing your legs tightly to ignore the burst of arousal.

“Bend over!” the man on stage barked, grabbing a paddle from the table.

The slave bent over a table immediately, unwilling to risk the possibility of more punishment.

He inserted a knee between her legs and forced them wide open—her pretty cunt exposed.

You could only see a flash of his swing as his paddle connected with her backside, a thunderous smack resounding. Her gleaming arousal was almost to her knee now, and the poor dear was visibly shaking and could hardly stand.

A high-pitched whimper came out of you and you quickly bit your lips, hoping you weren’t heard. Your panties suddenly rubbed you in the wrong places and your knees knocked together, in an effort to stop the heat emanating from your core.

“I see my little girl has lost herself on her way to the Salon.”

A gasp left your mouth as you stared back into a burgundy mask, burnished with gold.

Dolos.

“M-master, but it’s only 10 PM—”

He chuckled—a dark, delicious sound—and stretched him over the chaise you had settled yourself in. Slim, tapered fingers played with the ends of your hair as his plump lips curved into a dark smirk.

“Wrong, dearest. It’s 10:15. What time did I write in the letter?”

You hung your head, playing with the ribbons on your dress. “10:10, sir.”

He tugged on your hair, forcing a whine from you. He tsked.

“Your master has been waiting patiently for 2 weeks to play with his favorite little girl. And yet, she’s late?” You knew he was teasing you, but a sliver of real anger and irritation slipped into his voice. Immediately, you felt guilty and your bottom lip trembled. You had disappointed your master.

“And what do little girls who are late get?”

“T-they get punished, sir. I’m sorry—”

His lips turned downwards until he was sneering. “An apology isn’t going to cut it, Dove. We’re going to the Salon right now.” He roughly took your wrist and pulled you out of the room. Interested eyes followed his clearly irritated and furious gestures.

“Your safe word, darling?”

“Sappho.”

“Sappho, what?”

“Sir.”

His eyes, through the holes of his mask, darkened. “God, I will never get tired of hearing you say that.” Dolos turned around.

Dolos has been your dominant for the last 5 months, and fuck, he has been the best one you have had. Your participation in a public demonstration had led to him stealing the contract from your previous Dom, who was already supremely possessive at first glance. Your eyes, he had told you, were the most expressive he had ever seen. They were the ones that had convinced him to enter into an exclusive contract.

Your eyes traced his tall stature, the broadness of his back highlighted by his nondescript white shirt. The quote from Julius Caesar came to mind. “Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world/ like a Colossus, and we petty men.” Such power, such arrogance.

The Salon was Dolos’ room of choice, since he was a legacy member of Black’s. Filled with toys hidden behind halcyon scenes of the English or French country sides and tall, imposing dressers, the room merely looked like a noble bedroom but the things that occured in it… not so much.

“Bend over my lap, sweetheart. I’m thinking… hm, 10 slaps? Double the time you made me wait. What do you think?” He mused, throwing himself into an armchair.

You settled onto his lap, lifting your skirt and exposing your pretty, pink panties beneath. A mixture of nerves and arousal made your hands tremble, but the haze and glossiness of subspace settled over you easily, like your favorite blanket.

“Whatever you deem necessary, sir.”

His chest rumbled. “Good answer, little one. Such a good slut for me, huh?” He whispered to himself, running a paddle over your bare ass.

You barely heard his acclamation of “ten it is” before the paddle delivered a stinging slap to your left cheek. You unconsciously jerked up until his arms forced you down.

“Count for me, Dove.”

“One!”

Another one, but to the flesh of your thighs.

“Two!” you bit out.

Dolos’ hit parts that surrounded your core, but never actually reached touching it. Moisture began to dampen your lacy underthing and you had to bite down on your lips to stop from grinding yourself on his thigh like a brazen whore.

After the ninth slap, he palmed your ass carefully. His fingers dipped in between the folds of your pussy and you held your breath.

“Already, so wet? Christ. Clean me up and I’ll hit you the place I know you want me to.”

Swiping your tongue over his digits, you looked back at his mask and saw the tension at the corners of his mouth.

“Good.” Without warning, he shifted aside your panties and struck the paddle against your throbbing pussy.

“TEN!” You sobbed, unable to keep from sagging into his lap.

He hushed you and ran a comforting hand over your ass, smoothing over the red marks you were sure glowed.

“What a good, good girl you are,” Dolos cooed, caressing your cheek. His thumb wiped away your errant tears and he smirked, patting it.

“On your knees.”

You scrambled out of his lap and onto the carpet, wincing as your heels met your sore ass. You looked at him, wide-eyed, for his instruction.

“Suck my cock.”

A blush spread over your face at his frank wording and your hands moved to unzip his trousers, but Dolos made a noise of disapproval.

“With your mouth only, slut.”

Your hands bunched the fabric of your dress tightly and you squeezed your thighs together.

“Yes, master.”

As you took the button in between your teeth, you used a combination of your lips and tongue to unbutton his trousers. Once opened, you slowly dragged the zipper down all while looking up at him innocently.

His length, girthy and flushed an angry red, sprung out of his trousers. Licking your lips, you looked up to him for permission.

A sly smile came across his face. “Go, darling. This is your reward.”

You took the head of his cock in between your lips and swirled your tongue over the salty precum. He groaned, a gutteral noise from his chest, and his fingers clenched the plush arm rests of the chair tightly.

Gathering some of the precum on your tongue, you released his head and ducked down to take his testes in your mouth. You licked the length of his cock, finishing off with a playful suck to the head.

An angry glint flashed in his eyes. “Stop teasing, slut. Get to it.”

Dolos clenched some of your hair at the back of your head in his fist, and the pain from the sudden action caused your eyes to water. You’d gotten the message loud and clear.

Spitting on his cock, you took half of him in your throat, bobbing and hollowing your cheeks. Your master made sounds of appreciation, loosening the grip on your just a little bit.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, relaxed your throat and went farther down on his thick cock. You were no novice, but you had trouble taking him so deep—even after such a long time together. The tip of your nose touched the base of his cock and you hummed in satisfaction.

The vibrations from your throat seemed to set him off. His previously relaxed grip tightened again and he forced down on his cock until your face was smashed in his crotch.

“Mmph!” You gagged from his sudden, violent action.

“You’re such a fucking tease, fuck,” Dolos groaned, his head tilted back in pleausure.

Forcefully, he fucked your mouth without mercy. You could barely breathe, and the combination of the pain from your hair being pulled, your throat being abused, and the slick between your thighs caused tears to run down your cheeks.

“You know you like this, whore. You like gagging and choking on your master’s cock. You like being used like a little slut, don’t you?”

Unable to respond, you focused on trying to breath through your nose as he abused your mouth.

“Don’t you?! Answer me!” he shouted, pulling your head back.

More tears dripped out of your eyes at this pain, and you nodded quickly with his cock in his mouth. Dolos narrowed his eyes and forced you further on his length.

He quickly set a cadence and it felt like your mind was filled with cotton. The only sensations was the pain from your throat being stretched, his groans of satisfaction, and the throbbing in between your thighs.

“I bet you’re dripping right now. What a slut, getting off on her throat being fucked,” he sneered. His face was flushed as he neared his peak.

Your knees started to throb in pain, your joints aching at being on the ground for so long. His thrust even harder and faster into your lips, prompting a squeal.

“I’m getting close, slut,” he said between clenched teeth. You could feel the hard muscles in his thighs tensing in anticipation for his orgasm. You sucked even harder on his cock, swirling your tongue in figure eights on his length.

“FUCK!” he shouted, eyes clenched tightly. Both of his hands grasped your head and forced your head onto his cock until your nose touched the base. You gagged and prayed to breathe as warm liquid splashed down your throat. He thrusted his hips harder into your mouth, riding out his orgasm.

Dolos pulled out and left the tip of his cock on your opened mouth, tapping his length on your tongue as cum spurted out erratically as he groaned. You flinched as he slapped his cock along your cheeks for good measure. He slumped back in his chair after he rode out his orgasm, his broad chest breathing heavily. In the low light, he looked like a fallen angel with his head turned up towards the heavens.

I will show you how us mere mortals can reach the gardens of heaven from earth, he had said to you once.

You waited with your mouth open, still painted in his seed, for instruction. A few drops of his seed dripped on your chin and onto your chest.

Dolos took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning your head side to side. He paid attention in particular to your smeared lipstick. A beatific smile crossed his lips and he was so beautiful in that moment, so wicked and debauched and depraved it made your heart ache.

“What a gorgeous mess I’ve made.”

Tuesday January 21st, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

8 AM HKT

Raesung, Lee

CC: [email protected]

Re: Important Office Notification —

To: y/nl/[email protected]

Y/LN,

It is with great pleasure for me to inform you today that you are being considered for the Head Salesforce position at Sinochen Enterprises. Your name has come heavily recommended to me, and your previous boss has given me a glowing review of your performance these past few years. I, myself, have enjoyed your hard-work and impressive work ethic in your year as Head of the South Asia Division. Two other people are being considered for the role, and you will hear more from Daiyu and I about several interviews and necessary materials. I know you will practice the utmost discretion regarding this email.

Regards,

Raesung Lee

Department Head of Salesforce at Sinochen Enterprises

Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

Office 1876, 18th floor

Phone: +852 XXXX XXXX ext. 1876

You squealed but quickly clamped a hand over your math. This was it. This was the culmination of your dreams coming true. Being the Salesforce director for one of the largest companies in Asia… shit. That would prove your mom and everyone in that shitty-ass town of yours wrong.

After quickly shutting the door and the windows, you did an undignified jig around your large office filled with fist pumps and silent screaming.

“Y/N-laoban, I have the files for—”

You froze.

“...For… uh… you know what, I’ll just come back later—”

“No, it’s fine, BeiBei.” You cleared your throat and sat back into the chair. “I just had exciting news, that’s all. Come, please hand me those files.”

Beibei quickly handed them to you and moved to scurry out of the room and back to her desk.

“Wait! Beibei, could you grab me an Iced Americano? I feel like I need a treat today.”

Her young face peered at you curiously and nodded furiously.

“I-If it isn’t too much to ask, laoban, what’s the good news?”

Uncharacteristically, you beamed at her. She seemed a bit frightened at the sheer excitement you were exuding, so you toned it down a bit.

“Let’s just say I might not be the Head of just South Asia any longer.”

“I hear congratulations are in order?”

You looked up from your double-screens to see the extremely pretty face of Dong Sicheng. His plump lips pulled in a sort of mocking smile.

“For what? I don’t recall getting engaged nor getting pregnant,” you retorted.

“I overheard a little birdie telling her friends that her boss might move up in the world.” Sicheng pushed off the doorway and moved to place a long-fingered hand over the back of one of the couches.

A sigh left your mouth. Oh BeiBei.

He drummed his fingers against the back of the couch. “Although, I am surprised Raesung is considering someone like you for the promotion.”

Your eyes snapped to his heavily lidded one. “Pardon?”

“You know, someone of your… type.”

“Elaborate.”

He sighed, like he was dealing with an ignorant child, and moved to lean over your desk.

“We all know when push comes to shove, no matter how icy your demeanor may be, individuals like you will eventually succumb to their emotions.” His mocking smile was an attempt at his nice-boy persona around the office— that made you want to throw your paper weight at his face.

Your jaw clenched. “I knew your family was traditional, Sicheng, but I didn’t expect they were this intransigent.”

He moved closer. “The old ways keep our heads at the right place, woman.”

A snort left your lips. “And I suppose customs guide the ignorant?”

His smile grew razor sharp. “Exactly.”

Your teeth clenched around your tongue. “Excuse me, Sicheng, but I’m afraid I have a meeting in a few minutes—not all of us are as lax as a board member's son.”

Ignoring the barb, he watched raptly as you stuck all your files into your purse calmly. As you moved to show him to the door, he stalled.

“I think you’re forgetting something, Y/N.”

“I’m afraid you have me at a loss, Sicheng. Please hurry.”

“Don’t I get salutations as well? I’m the other person being considered.” He smirked.

Thursday January 23rd, 2020

Your House

9 PM HKT

“Hi, mother. How are you?” you asked.

“Aiyo, my old bones are holding up, but you know what would make me feel more at ease?”

“What, mama?” You kicked off your heels and threw yourself into your lumpy, comfy couch. It was time for that conversation again.

“If you settled down with a nice man and gave your grandfather and I grandkids.”

“I am busy.”

She continued as if she hadn’t heard you. “I know there are a lot of nice men at that company of yours. Surely there is a rich laoban that you can settle down with? You are not unhandsome, after all.”

“I am my own laoban.”

A moment of silence. “Ah, that’s good I suppose.”

“Thank you, mama,” you replied dryly.

“Aiyo, but you know men won’t like that! The good sort of men want good, obedient wives. How are you going to serve your husband and raise your kids if you are working such a busy job?”

“You say that as if I will marry or have kids.”

A loud gasp came from the other end of the line. “Y/N, you will give me a heart attack early! Husband, Y/N will kill me early!”

You heard a faint grunt and your mother subsequently scolding him.

A migraine started to form. You loved your mother as much as one daughter could, but she was very traditional in the way she looked at things. She had raised you from a young age to be an obedient, well-trained wife of a village man like her. Mother had good intentions of course, because that was all she knew. This was the best way she could prepare you for a good life.

The only reason she let you move to the city was because she thought you would find “good quality” (her words, not yours) men in the city. She only approved of you applying to Sinochen because not only did she see the name emblazoned across her noodle and food packets, she also knew very rich men worked there.

You really had thought that once you had moved to Hong Kong, everyone would be Westernized with more flexibility in their mindsets. But the higher ups in your company diminished those hopes very quickly.

Especially for country-bumpkin you.

You hadn’t known the Hong Kong dialect Mandarin, the new slang and modern mannerisms. Adding onto the fact that you were a woman, Sinochen did not treat you very kindly until you started to learn that being kind would get you nowhere.

And look at what you are now—a highly-paid business woman at one of the largest companies in Asia, living in a luxurious apartment within some of the most exclusive real estate on the island, along with all the pretty handbags and shoes you’ve always wanted. You even knew you were reasonably pretty and attractive, if the way Dolos looked at you was true. You kicked ass.

“Y/N, please visit us! Your father and I miss you terribly.”

You grimaced at the thought of your dirty and dusty hometown in the mainland. But still, you missed your father, who had supported you silently in whatever ways he could, and your mother, who loved you something deep.

“I forgot to mention! Kunhuang has been asking after you. Aiyo, what a good boy. He comes to our house once a month and gives us fruits, you know? Such a kind, kind boy.”

You smiled at the thought of Kunhuang and his childish face streaked in dirt and playing Catch the Dragon’s Tail in the woods near your village.

“Tell him I said hello, mother.”

“That boy— he owns most of the farms around us, wah—he tells us he misses you. Why couldn’t you have married him? You could've been closer to us, you know. Kunhuang and you would have made such cute grandkids—”

You sighed heavily. “I had dreams to chase, mama. I still do.”

Friday, January 24th, 2020

Black’s

9 PM HKT

Sicheng frowned at the vellum letter in his hand. His dearest Dove was unable to make it this week, citing she had work responsibilities she could not miss.

The letter crumpled in his hand.

He quickly stood up from the armchair near the cozy fireplace at Black’s, dodging various couples or individuals that attempted to coax him into joining them for the night. There was no need for him to be there tonight.

What a pitiful mess he was—over a woman, nonetheless.

When he had first received a recommendation from his uncle to join Black’s, he was ecstatic. Sicheng knew of the rich history and tradition of the club. It was a holdover from colonial times, when bored British aristocrats created a gentleman’s club that quickly turned into a pseudo-bordello as the 19th century chugged on. Legacy and tradition were paramount to the club.

His father was too fastidious to enter Black’s, even though his own father was a frequent patron of the club. For all his faults, he was a loyal man to his wife. Sicheng, on the other hand, was a randy twenty years old looking to unleash his private fantasies onto the prestigious dungeon.

The mask and name he wore were given to him by his Uncle, who retired from the club as Sicheng entered. Dolos was the other side of his personality that Sicheng hid from the rest of the world.

But never had Dolos been so enraptured by his contracted submissive, Dove.

Dove was… perfect. While other women just laid there and received his attention like a rag doll, she responded in kind. Whether it was an adorable gasp from her lips or precious, minute twitches, Dolos never had a problem ascertaining what Dove was feeling. She was also such a good girl for him, as well.

So, so good. Incomparable.

No other woman would do it for him. Well...

Sicheng slammed open the door a bit more forcefully than he had intended. Fuck, not her. Anyone but that prissy bitch. Roughly bidding goodbye to the receptionist of the so-called spa, Sicheng quickly slid into the passenger seat of his Maserati and zoomed off into the lights of Hong Kong.

As much as he’d like to put her in her place, Y/N would never do it for him.

Monday January 27th, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

10 AM HKT

Your ears perked up to hear the sound of muffled yelling outside your office. Quickly standing, you peeked your head out the doorway to see Sicheng fitfully waving a crumpled paper in his fist at two employees, towering over them with his mouth pulled into a sneer.

“—I do NOT pay your salaries for you to laze around and produce substandard work! If my secretary had not caught this mistake within the analysis, I would’ve been fucking HUMILIATED at the board meeting for faulty figures! My ass would’ve been on the line—”

Glancing over, you saw the other girls in the office whispering behind their hands with shocked eyes. In any other situation, you would’ve done the same. Pretty boy Sicheng? Nice, kind Sicheng who dimpled at everyone each morning? It would’ve been unimaginable for that Sicheng to be putting two of his employees (Tzuyu and Xiaogui, you think, but can’t see past their bowed heads) on blast—but this one stood in the morning light, proudly and harshly, with a terrible mask of rage.

BeiBei, who was standing outside the doorway of your office and head bowed with her friend, giggled softly.

“Wah, Sicheng looks so attractive like that. He’s usually nice but, ugh, what I wouldn’t do to get him,” BeiBei pointed at the now snarling Sicheng,“—bending me over at my desk.”

Her friend squealed and fanned herself. “I may need to change my panties after this, oh my god.”

BeiBei nodded sagely. “I knew he was in a bad mood earlier, when I accidentally bumped into him in the elevator, but my god I didn’t expect for him to blow up like this.”

“I wonder what made him so mad? I remember when Jae accidentally spilled coffee over his phone and Sicheng didn’t even get angry—just smiled and patted him on the back.”

You frowned, remembering that day. While he did pat Jae on the back, Sicheng’s fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles were white and the veins on his forearms stood out. There was a hidden layer behind his seemingly placid eyes, and your suspicions were confirmed after you saw the janitor taking out a broken lamp from his office late one night.

It was that incident, along with so many other tiny occurrences, that clued you into Sicheng’s secret side. You distrusted him solely on that basis. Otherwise, what kind of trustworthy man would hide something like that?

From the corner of your eye, you could tell that Sicheng looked dangerously close to punching something. You decided to intervene before HR got called. Even you had a heart, no matter how cold you were. However, you couldn’t look like you were bailing them out...

“Tzuyu! Xiaogui!” you barked, startling the gossiping women next to you.

Everyone’s heads snapped towards you, along with Sicheng.

You pursed your lips and adjusted your stance. “The Yang reports were supposed to be in my hand an hour ago. My hands are currently empty.”

Tzuyu looked close to crying, while Xiaogui shifted his eyes to the side.

“Go. Before I tell the finance department and you won’t get your full bonus for the year.”

They bowed to Sicheng, then to you, and scrambled off.

There was a moment of silence, until Sicheng had turned his angry attention towards you.

“Well? Why are all of you just standing there? We have deliverables to fulfill, people!” You scowled at the crowd, which disbursed from your shout.

Sichend had not taken his eyes off of you, not even when everyone left.

“Y/N, can I see you in my office for a moment?” he asked with his jaw clenched.

You narrowed your eyes, but acquiesced, standing by the window overlooking Kowloon Bay as he shut the door.

Sicheng paused for a moment by the doorway, his broad chest heaving. He let out a strangled breath before standing near his desk.

“You do not encroach on MY authority in this office, woman. I know the old men in other departments let you step all over them because you’re willing to put out—”

Your jaw dropped and motioned to defend yourself, but he rolled right over you.

“—but you do NOT get to do that here. Unlike the other fuckers in this office, I think with my fucking head not my dick. I handle my goddamn subordinates the way I see fit, understand?”

Your hands gripped the plush chair you stood next to.

“Where the hell do you get off talking to me like that? They’re under my supervision as well, have you fucking forgotten that? Criticize me however you want, but I draw the fucking line on attacks on my character!” you hissed, stepping closer to Sicheng.

“I talk to you however the hell I want, woman! This is my office. I’m in charge!”

Scoffing, you sat on the arm of the chair. “I know you’re sour you didn’t get the region you wanted. But that's real life, Sicheng. It must suck getting told no, daddy’s boy? Huh?”

“You shut the fuck up, Y/N. You do not get to talk to me like that,” he growled, towering over your deceptively lax figure.

You examined your nails nonchalantly. “Whatever, Sicheng. Let’s see who gets to talk when I get the promotion.”

“Ha! You wouldn’t last a fucking week in that position. No one can stand your uptight ass.”

Your placid demeanor snapped and you pushed a manicured finger into his (surprisingly) built chest.

“Fuck off, Sicheng! Some of us worked our ‘uptight’ asses off to get to where we are. You wouldn’t be shit without daddy dearest!”

“You wanna bet on that, woman?!”

Too little, too late—you didn’t notice how close the two of you were. His right arms clenched the back of the seat behind you and your noses were inches apart. If someone walked in right now, it would’ve looked like Sicheng was trying to kiss you.

You both were breathing heavily and, for the first time, you observed him from up close—his frustratingly clear skin, straight nose and slender jaw line, mouth drawn into a snarl looking like he wanted to corner you into your chair.

It was… hot.

Unwittingly, you bit your bottom lip and his intense eyes were drawn to the movement. Your legs shifted to rub together at the crux and his pants tented, while his eyes narrowed. He breathed heavily through his nose and, god, what you wouldn’t give for him to push you up against a wall and—

What the fuck!

You recoiled the same time he did, jumping away from each other like opposite poles repelling. A cold sweat formed on your back as you realized you were fucking attracted to the man that called you a whore all but in name a few moments ago.

The feral desire on his face morphed into disgust and the two of you gazed at each other in shock and revulsion.

Rushing out of his office like a bat out of hell, you slammed the door to your office shut and collapsed into your chair. Here you were, wanting to vomit in disgust but your panties were fucking soaking. You groaned and pulled at your hair. How the fuck were you supposed to last until Friday without Dolos? He would somehow fucking know you got yourself off and he would paddle you black and blue.

You dialed the private line for Black’s.

Your last resort...

Monday January 27th, 2020

Black’s

7:55 PM HKT

Sicheng drummed his finger restlessly against the leather couch, glancing at the clock. His knee bounced in anticipation and he was unaware of the dark energy he exuded.

The man felt like he could explode right now—no thanks to Y/N in his office earlier. Sicheng couldn’t believe he was reduced to a pathetic bundle of nerves all over Y/N and her red lipstick and fuck me! Eyes.

He wanted to crack open that ice-cold facade that you hid behind. He wanted to pick apart every aspect of your being, from your veiled eyes to your restless hands and—

He rubbed a hand over his face. Fuck, not Y/N again. Where the hell was his Dove? Although, he supposed he couldn’t ask for anymore than her now. He was about to break their schedule of Friday nights only, but, by some saving grace, the manager of Black’s called to notify him of Dove’s request to meet here tonight at 8 PM.

Sicheng couldn’t get out of the office fast enough. He usually worked late, but as soon as the clock turned six, he revved his Audi to get home and shower. Now he was here, looking groomed as hell for his favorite little girl.

“Master?”

There she were—standing off to the side, wearing a simple skirt and blouse, yet looking like sex personified.

He was so relieved that he didn’t even check the clock to check if his darling girl was late.

“Sit on my lap, sweetheart. Master has missed you.”

She straddled his lap and he buried his nose into her neck, inhaling deeply. He could feel the tension melting away in his muscles as she sat in his lap.

“Are you stressed, sir?” she asked innocuously, stroking his chest.

He hummed affirmative, tracing his nose over her collarbones. “Master’s had a rough day, baby. Why don’t you be a good girl and help me out, hm?”

Dove grinned, and Sicheng could see her twinkling eyes under the grey mask. “Anything for you sir.”

Sicheng heaved her over his shoulder, a squeal to coming out of her mouth unbidden. He smirked. She was lucky he hadn’t stopped her from making noise.

As soon as he got to the room, he made her strip as he pulled down a silk tie from the ceiling. Sicheng roughly forced her hands up, exposing her breasts to the cold air. As he finished binding Dove’s wrists together, he smirked and flicked a finger over her hard peaks.

A small mewl came out of the girl’s mouth, but Sicheng heard it clear as day. A smirk crawled over his plump lips.

“What was that, little girl? You want me to use a riding crop on your ass? Huh?”

Her eyes widened, she held still.

Sicheng languorously looked her over, eyes tracing the dips and curves of her body. “That’s what I thought.”

From a wooden panel, he produced a riding crop, setting aside on a side table as he rolled up his sleeves and loosened the collar on his button-up. Brandishing the crop again, he placed it on her collarbone, the cold leather a stark contrast to Dove’s heated skin.

“Safeword?”

“Sappho, sir.”

The tip of the crop forced her chin up, his intense eyes meeting hers. “Good girl.”

She preened.

He traced it down her chest, circling her sensitive breasts. He chuckled. They were so perfect for him, begging for his attention. She clenched her eyes shut.

Out of nowhere, he sides of both her breasts in two quick snaps of the wrist. Her eyes flew open and she gasped.

“Eyes on me, girl.”

Down and down he went, tracing over her stomach and waist. Sicheng skipped over her mons and started at her feet. He tapped the crop softly against her calves and thighs; he smiled, seeing her keep her stance. Sicheng would delay her orgasm if she so much as bent her legs. The irritating tapping continued until he got to her ass, where he delivered two sharp blows.

He could see her swallow down a moan, her eyes begging him to touch her there. Push and pull, Sicheng reminded himself. Push and fucking pull.

The man looked her dead in the eyes as he snapped the crop all over her ass and waist. Sicheng was unsatisfied. She could withstand the sharp, short pain of the crop and Dove wouldn’t act out.

Throwing the crop to the ground, Sicheng grabbed a ball-gag and paddle from the wall and stalked towards her.

Stuffing the ball-gag into her mouth, he smirked. “Keep your fucking legs straight.”

With that, he wasted no time and swung the paddle straight over her ass. her moan, muffled yet a masterful concerto to his ears, filled the room. Again and again, he paddled her ass until it was hot to touch, taking out his anger at Y/N on her poor ass. She couldn’t think—a buzz filled her ears and a subspace settled over her mind as he kept delivering.

Sicheng smirked as he saw the clear, viscous fluid of her pussy tread down the inside of her thighs. Unable to help himself, he swiped a finger through it and sucked on it.

However, the paddle had hit right next to her throbbing pussy and she cried out, pushing her legs together to relieve the tension.

His slim fingers grabbed her chin. His eyes were wild and his lips were drawn into a familiar snarl. The thought left her head as he hissed. “What the fuck did I just say about keeping your legs straight? You wanna be bad? Disobey my order? I’ll show you bad.”

Uncharacteristically, he threw away the paddle and wrapped a strong arm around her chest. She felt the rough, calloused skin of his palm smack her ass and she couldn’t take it.

Moans and whines forced themselves past her lips as he kept on going, smacking her ass in quick succession with his bare palms. It was a useless mission trying to keep her legs together but he kept going until she was trembling. The only thing keeping her up was his arm around her waist.

“What a naughty, naughty girl,” he whispered into her ear. “You deliberately disobeyed my fucking orders, huh? Fucking put your legs together because you were too impatient for master to touch you.”

“Sir, please,” she sobbed through the gag, saliva dripping down her chin.

Sicheng thrust two fingers into her mouth and she rushed to spit and lube them up. He quickly spread the lips of her labia apart with his finger, and his thumb brushed slightly over her little pearl. The ‘accidental’ move nearly made her pass out, a loud scream echoing along the walls.

“What sweet, sweet screams are elicited from that throat of yours,” he murmured.

Suddenly, he roughly stuffed two fingers into her dripping wet pussy making her scream even louder from the sudden intrusion. Pumping harshly, in and out, an undulating rhythm that made her legs collapse and lean on him totally for support. She cried into his shoulder as he just kept on going, feeling the lush walls of her pussy pulsate against his fingers. Once again, his thumb brushed over her clit and her throat felt raw from her shouting. He rubbed her little pearl viciously while two fingers were still deep in her pussy. Her muffled screaming echoed through out the room and he quickly unbuckled the gag from her mouth.

“Master, sir—please, let me come! I’ll be your good girl, I’ll doing anything you want, I’ll keep my legs apart, I’ll—”

“Come, sweetheart. Come for your master,” he said, his breathing finally a bit labored.

She let out a keening wail and her nails dug into his broad shoulders, shaking uncontrollably against him. He held her close.

Monday January 27th, 2020

Black’s

9 PM HKT

All that could be heard was the crackling fire in the corner of the room. You slumped bonelessly against Dolos on the leather couch, head on his chest, knees pulled up to rest on his lap. As you drifted in and out of consciousness, you could feel his fingers stroke your hair and the comforting sound of his heartbeat thrumming steadily.

“Sir, I… I missed you,” you whispered.

He said nothing. But, as you turned your head up to his, he gazed at you with an unreadable gleam in his eye.

You blushed, and buried your head in his chest. God, that was too sincere. It actually sounded like you needed him outside the walls of this playroom. You knew what happened when you mixed feelings with sex. Trouble.

Trouble was Minghao. Trouble was dark and mysterious—the kind of boy that made girls go starry-eyed and ga-ga over him. The girls would constantly daydream Minghao “fixing” himself for them, “piecing” himself back together in order to be with the girl of his dreams.

Except they were wrong. So, so wrong.

Minghao wasn’t like that. He was cool, he was cruel, and he was mean. He was the first to initiate your eager eyes into BDSM. He was the one that discovered how good of a submissive you were. He was your first in everything.

In the end, he was too much for you. Minghao would’ve destroyed you had you stayed for any longer—would’ve ruined your already fraying self-esteem and confidence. Yet, when the two of you parted ways, it felt like something had been torn out of your chest. You had dedicated yourself to serving this man, thrown your confidence and dignity on an altar and sacrificed it to him, but he had deigned to not even treat you with a modicum of respect outside of playtime.

Never again.

“Never mind, sir. My mouth ran away from me for a moment.”

His right hand rose to cup your jaw, and his fathomless eyes searched yours.

“You are the only thing real in this world, you know that?”

Your thumb stroked his sharp cheekbones and Dolos sighed. He quickly gathered you up in his arms and crushed you into his chest. You froze, unsure what he planned to do.

“Fuck,” he said. “What are you doing to me?”

You gazed into the fire lapping at the stone of the fireplace, snapping and crackling. What the hell was he doing to you? Dolos was the first dom in years to make so weak—so attached.

He gave a bitter laugh.

“I came here for control.”

Burying his face into your hair, he inhaled deeply like you would disappear in thin air.

“So why are you taking it away from me?”

Wednesday January 29th, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

3 PM HKT

You sighed and played mindlessly with your pen as the clock ticked forward. Sicheng had gone to the bathroom before your quick progress check with him which left you to scrutinize his office.

If there was one word to describe his office, it would be monotonous. White, black, and red with no personal effects in sight. The only thing that made the space not some page from a design catalogue was the simple calligraphy painting bearing a proverb in harsh, strong strokes.

人算不如天算.

Man proposes and god disposes.

Huh. Funny, for a man whom you thought was fettered by nothing but himself.

The scroll painting was also dead set in the middle of room, with two dark bookshelves flanking it. In fact, everything in the room was perfectly symmetrical. The two chairs faced the desk straight on. There were two pens that stood side by side, unnaturally neat at the center of his desk. Even his recycling bin was perfectly in the center of two tables—

A ball of paper, different from the other stark white sheets in the bin, caught your eye. Weirdly enough, the paper broke the bizarre, polished neatness of the room by laying on the floor adjacent to the bin.

Insatiable curiosity gripped you in its clutches, and you bent down to pick up the odd bit of parchment.

Immediately, you felt the quality of the paper. It was heavy and smooth like silk, not something an individual wrote on casually. Hell, it was aged as well. What was Dong Sicheng doing with this?

Opening the crumpled paper (which had felt like it had been crumpled and straightened many times), you took a look at the contents of the paper.

Your own handwriting stared up at you mockingly.

Dropping the paper like it was a burning ember, you fell gracelessly to the carpeted floor. Your eyes widened and your hand clamped over your mouth to prevent you from gasping.

No. That could not be Dove’s letter. It couldn’t. It couldn’t because—

You heard muffled footsteps echoing coming down the hallway outside the office, and you scrambled off the floor and into your chair. Having no time to think, you stuffed the letter into your coat pocket.

“Y/N, thank you for waiting,” Sicheng greeted, striding confidently into his office.

His casual oxford and black trousers were a slap in the face. How could you not notice the similarities between Dolos and Sicheng? The way they walked, the way they talked, the way they looked at you.

With Sicheng, looking into his eyes was like gazing through a veil. Silhouettes and hints of something indiscernible danced in his eyes, alien to his warm demeanor. Looking into Dolos’ eyes was as if the veil had been lifted, naked and hungry desire running rampant and burning with its ferocity. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide underneath his stare.

Even his forearms. The way they flexed as he lowered himself into his office chair and took one of the freakishly aligned pens in his sinuous fingers. You could see them twisting and rippling as he paddled your—

“Y/N?”

Your eyes refocused on Sicheng watching you intently, concern written on his face.

“N-no problem, really.”

You wanted to facepalm yourself. Your voice almost fucking cracked and sounded shy, like the twittering of the office girls around him. Fuck, where was your ice queen when you needed her?

A slight smile played upon his pink lips, and hell if you couldn’t imagine him calling you a little slut.

The informal progress meeting continued on in the same vein, you acting uncharacteristically bashful and him hiding his befuddled amusement badly.

The paper felt like it was a brand burning through your blazer pocket the rest of the day.

Love, your Darling Dove.

Friday January 31st, 2020

Black’s

9 PM HKT

Friday night once again found him at Black’s, awaiting his weekly tête-á-tête with his darling Dove. But this time, he planned to make it different.

He restlessly toyed with the red, signature box embossed with gold etching. He had never spent this much money on something for someone other than his mother and older sister, but Dove once again compelled him. The necklace with gold filigree had a simple pendant of a blossom, its leaves done in malachite and its petals in iridescent opal. Sicheng imagined Dove in nothing but his necklace, her pretty lips contorted in a moan, and he instantly got hard again.

Fuck. He could not wait to get her to the Salon and kiss every inch of her skin, worshipping her with his mouth and his hands. And after, when she was sated and curled contentedly in his arms, he would ask to remove her mask.

And hopefully, she would say yes.

Then she would be his.

His mouth salivated at the thought, his heart beating just a tiny bit faster at the thought of untying the ribbon of her grey mask and the stupid lace falling down so he could bask in her features. A thousand different features flashed before his eyes, each one as perfect than the next.

Y/N’s cold gaze flashed unbidden before his eyes.

Sicheng’s teeth clenched until he couldn't feel his tongue. As much as he’d like to put her in her rightful place, why was she in his thoughts? Dove was perfect and submissive to his whims, and he was about to make her his. Y/N had no business being even a passing thought.

Although, she acted quite off this week. She was her normal, bitchy self around the office, ruthlessly demanding results while everyone obeyed in a mixture of fear and awe, but Y/N was almost… shy.

She refused to look him straight in the eye, even if, in the past, she had no problem getting all up in his face. Her posture was slumped and hesitant, her hands twiddled and twitched in his presence.

While he liked it a bit more than he should, this was not the Y/N he knew. He had no idea what made her like this and it made him... uncomfortable. Did he do something?

“Dolos, sir.”

He looked up from his broody contemplation into the fire and to the distinguished, older man’s face. This was not some errand boy, this was the owner of the damn establishment. Sir Theodore Lau himself.

“Mr. Lau, nice to see you,” he said, rising up to greet him properly.

“Quite well, and you?”

“In good spirits.”

Mr. Lau’s face took on a pained expression.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Lau?”

The usually unflappable gentleman looked discomfited. “You… I have received this. For you.”

Sicheng cautiously took the letter from Lau’s hands, and broke the wax seal to the aged vellum inside

Dear Dolos,

I am sorry you could not receive the contents of this letter in person, but circumstances have not allowed for it.

Dolos, I’m sorry to inform you I am no longer a patron of Black’s and consequently not your submissive anymore. No, it is not an issue of money. Neither have I been treated untowardly in this establishment. No, I have had to leave because of some personal conflicts.

I have had the best six months of my life with you. You have made me feel comfortable in my submission, with no shame or judgement in those eyes of ours. I looked forward to our Friday rendezvous, embarrassingly eager for when I could be in your arms again. But that shall sadly never happen again.

Please do not get angry, but if our six months together meant anything to you, please do not seek me out. It’s best for the both of us.

Thank you master,

Dove

Sicheng could only gape at the paper, the letters rerunning and jumbling in his mind until they were all a blur. He could literally feel the blood freezing in his veins and the unnatural stillness he was stuck in.

“She… she said she was sorry. Very sorry.”

Mr. Lau could have been speaking gibberish for all he cared, because Sicheng could not hear anything other than the pounding of his blood.

“What the fuck,” Sicheng hissed after a long time of not speaking.

Mr. Lau could only look on piteously. Sicheng’s face was grotesquely beautiful in the firelight, highlighting his angelic features contorted tortuously. The owner had never seen such raw, unfiltered emotion from Sicheng— from anyone in his life, really. This was the face of a man who had the rug taken out from beneath his feet.

He put a fatherly hand on Sicheng’s shoulder. Lau had known the boy since the boy was an adolescent and a submissive had never left him in such a state.

“We have other girls—men as well—who would be more than happy to serve you tonight—”

“I don’t want to fuck tonight,” Sicheng seethed, brushing the older man’s hand off roughly. “I don’t want any of them. I want Dove.”

How could she do this? Just leave him high and dry with just a letter and unforgettable memories? He thought they were more.

Evidently not, Sicheng thought bitterly.

However, something was off in the letter. There were blotches of water around the page and even in the handwriting, as if a droplet had smeared the page. Of perhaps, a tear.

“Can I meet with you privately in your office?” Sicheng said lowly after he got his rage under control.

Mr. Lau sighed. “Of course. Come along.”

Sicheng refused his invitation to sit, but did accept a finger of bourbon. He took a sip, contemplated the glass in his hand, and hurled it at the wall.

Mr. Lau jumped out of his chair, shocked. “Sicheng, those glasses were from my grandfather!”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. Like air suddenly leaving a balloon, Sicheng deflated and collapsed into the armchair. The blond youth rubbed a hand over his tired face.

“May I ask you for a favor, Mr. Lau?”

The man, inspecting the now ruined silk wallpaper, snorted. “Unless you replace my decanter set, no.”

Sicheng waved a careless hand. “Consider it done. 1890s, correct? I’ll even pay for the cleaning service.”

Harrumphing, the owner sat in his office chair and steepled his fingers. “So, what may I do for you?”

Sicheng’s burning eyes turned towards him.

“Tell me who Dove is.”

Mr. Lau winced. “Anything but that Sicheng, anything. Not her identity.”

“Well, say goodbye to your father’s decanter set, then,” Sicheng murmured petulantly.

“I can live with that. However, I will never disclose her identity— or anyone’s, for that matter.”

“Please, you don’t understand. I need her.”

Oh, how beautiful he looked like this. A tortured angel materialized from a Michaelangelo painting.

Mr. Lau felt all his years weighing him all at once, and two sides of him warred.

“I’m sorry, but no matter how good your intentions are, I personally and legally cannot do that.”

“Even though my family and I have been patrons of the club for decades?”

“Even then. You know this.”

The blond man’s eyes shifted to the side, and his jaw tightened. His knuckles grew white clutching the wood armrests of the chair he sat in.

“Fuck this!” he shouted, suddenly throwing the chair back with a resounding clash. He motioned to stomp his way out of the room, but Mr. Lau’s voice stopped him.

“She’s a good girl, Sicheng. If she wanted to be found by you, she would’ve.”

Sicheng grasped the door and said ominously, “I will not accept this. Never.”

The older gentleman sighed, and took in the destruction a man’s broken heart had left in its wake.

*cackles evilly* to be continued...

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luminous-studiess · 3 years

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Ummm so I'm new to tumblr so don't judge if I did something wrong.Ummm how can I be like you? Like you know? Productive and smart.I always push myself but ended up being distracted by things (I have adhd and depression).I can't even remember anything after.I suffer,and continue suffering, from my mental illnesses.I just can't keep myself on track.My family makes fun of me for trying.I'm actually trying to find a part time job here but nothing hires minors.Idk please help meee.

hi, friend! answer under the cut because this will be long.

please know you’re doing nothing wrong, and that the fact you keep trying to become better and to push yourself to always get things done despite difficult circumstances already shows that you ARE already productive and smart.

second, it also helped me when i was struggling very heavily last year to learn two things: 1) there will always be particularly bad days when you live with mental illness, but all the little efforts you take, it slowly does get less difficult. getting better does not mean completely getting rid of all the symptoms you experience, but mostly just learning the best ways and small, gentle things you can do for yourself to manage your condition. this really requires a gentle but firm balance between pushing yourself to do the things you absolutely need to do, but also knowing when what level of work/school/self-care or hobbies is the limit, so that you don’t get too overwhelmed. this means most of the time, you don’t have to worry about being productive for its own sake. it helps me when i feel like i’m drowning to know how little i can do/the most non-negotiable bare minimum, that still helps me not to fall behind.

^ this is a small, cheap pad of sticky notes i carry with me throughout my entire day. it’s only big enough so that i can only write a few school tasks/personal things i need to do/chores, which helps me evaluate what exactly i can only get done, especially on days where i don’t feel well. checking off absolutely everything on my tiny list makes me feel like i’ve accomplished a lot, because i i have-- they aren’t necessarily a lot of tasks, but they’re the ones that i know really do need to get done. it also helps me focus when i have a lot of nervous energy, and have a panicked sense of “so many things need to get done!!!?” because i can give myself a bit of time to sit down, maybe turn on an episode of a show i like or make some coffee, and write down my tasks. it really helps me with the faint, tiny guilt and dread i used to feel day by day that i was being unproductive or lazy, because now i know i’ve fulfilled all my obligations to myself (everything from doing laundry, to making dinner) and to other people (schoolwork and other tasks). it’s okay to move at the pace that’s only possible for you right now. it’s better to feel comfortable with the smallest things you can do, and build on that as the days come. 2) getting distracted is normal, given Everything Happening Right Now, plus with a mental health condition that makes it hard to focus. it can also be hard to remember things when i study, because of my own health conditions, but i’ve found that the following things have helped: regarding distraction - use a small system that keeps you from accessing any distractions when you need to get something done. i try to leave my non-essential device in another room, and set up a timer-based blocker, to limit the websites i access. - i try to acknowledge the distractions as they come, and try to figure out why: am i hungry? am i tired? have i gotten enough sleep? do i need a break? if it isn’t anything serious, i just acknowledge that i’ve gone briefly off-track-- without guilt, without judgment. then i try to turn my mind back to the task at hand. - a good ambient playlist can make me feel more focused during hard tasks in the sense that i have some form of stimulation to keep the “itchiness” at bay. video game soundtracks and film soundtracks are also wonderful for long, tricky tasks. - sometimes i just have to start to feel motivated-- the focus actually comes in in the middle of the task. the fact of starting something may actually make you feel motivated.

- procrastinate productively: sometimes when i really don’t want to study i turn on a movie or a show and use the time to clean my room or fold laundry. my life still feels put-together, and i enjoyed myself! win-win.

- and sometimes i realize that focus may be impossible at the moment: take a break, go for a run, do something you like, take a nap. regarding learning and remembering things i used to have the worst time recalling things for school, until i prioritized two things: SLEEP, and not cramming. i used to get extremely poor grades in my first year of law school because i would put off studying at the last and latest moment-- a few days before exams, pulling all-nighters right up until the hour the exam started. i would also just use my free time to scroll on social media, instead of taking a nap or going to bed early. this was absolutely wrong. during the exam, i couldn’t recall anything because i was too tired, too frazzled, probably didn’t have breakfast, and because i had started and finished half a semester of reading in one night. my grades have gotten much better lately-- i’d like to think it’s because i’ve centered it around two things: (a) getting enough sleep every single night (helpful ESPECIALLY if you have health problems-- mental or physical), and (b) making exam day the least stressful it can be. how do i do this? - this means not only learning things for the exam, but also for classes on a daily period. you don’t have to study particularly hard, but you just have to study enough that you can understand what the professor is saying in class. set definite study hours every day, stop at a very specific and reasonable hour, and go to bed. try to get at least 6 hours of sleep. sleep helps me absorb everything better (idk science but this is from experience and also some very smart people i know ALSO prioritize getting sleep). wake up at a reasonable hour. - how to study: read the syllabus, and try to get a decent overview of all the topics you need to cover before you start testing/making flashcards/doing active recall (which is IMPORTANT bc this helps you actually train your brain to retrieve information). imho as someone low-energy i find that rewriting notes/making reviewers/making flashcards makes me very tired and leaves very little time for actual studying, so it just helps to test myself by looking at the syllabus and trying to explain the concept to myself, then peeking at the textbook or materials to see what i’m missing. mind-maps are also energy-efficient ways of figuring out how concepts fit together. - how to study for exams: the very latest you should start is a week ahead. two weeks ahead is ideal. map out how much information you need to re-learn from the syllabus. move slowly with the aim of finishing the coverage by the first week. the second is for reviewing and RESTING. - THE NIGHT BEFORE THE EXAM: do a final, gentle survey over the topics you may not understand. stop at 10 pm. go to sleep. - EXAM DAY: you’ve done the work. take the time to eat breakfast, test yourself SLOWLY AND GENTLY (avoid reading huge chunks of textbook at this point-- youll only confuse yourself), and set up your workspace to take the exam. crush said exam. as a final note: it can be hard to get things done when the people closest to you aren’t supportive. try to reach out on studyblr and find discord study with me servers, or study communities on reddit (they’re actually really nice), or with students in your class. if you need to talk, just dm me. you can do this friend, okay? take care always. gentler days will come.

#mental health support #mental health tips #student mental health #uni tips #college tips #study tips #how to study with a mental illness 2.0 i think???#studyblr #asks

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mikauzoran · 3 years

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The Ascendancy of The Plan ™ (re: Mikau’s WIPs)

So, I feel like I’ve gotten a lot accomplished in the past few months since I last did one of these status updates. Most of the stories I ended up writing were much longer than anticipated, and I’ve had a lot of ideas just pop into my head that I hadn’t originally been planning, so this list isn’t going to look very different from the last one, but I promise that I have accomplished things, and there are some new projects in the works. ^.^;

I’m currently posting the final chapters of Among the Wild Things and Betting Against the House. Below is a list of works I have planned for the coming months. Let me know what sounds interesting or what you’re excited for.

Anhedonia: When Adrien Met Marinette: (Adrienette, post-reveal/pre-relationship, roommates) So, I’m taking a screenplay writing class, and we’re studying the scripts of several movies to get a feel for how the writer evokes different cognitive responses from the audience. One of the movies is When Harry Met Sally. I’ve never seen this movie, but apparently it’s about two friends finally ending up together after some trials and tribulations. It’s about never giving up on finding love and happiness...only I’m feeling depressed at the moment, and I don’t want to hear about true love because I’m lonely and despair of ever finding someone to share a life with. So I’m using my feelings to write a story. ^.^ Naturally. XD

It’s post-reveal/pre-relationship Adrienette. They’re roommates, and there’s been a misunderstanding because Marinette didn’t tell Adrien how she felt about him after she found out he was Chat Noir, and he’s told her that he’s over her because he thinks that the only way to preserve their friendship (since she’s already turned down his advances as Ladybug, so, obviously, she wouldn’t want him as Marinette either). It has a happy ending, and they straighten things out because I still believe in finding true love and happiness. XD I’m a sap like that, and these two deserve happiness.

Ladrien Present: (Adrienette, Ladrien) I’m still trying to write a story where Ladybug brings Adrien’s birthday party to him. ^.^; I have half of it written (the Adrienette half), and I have an outline for the rest. I just...need to sit down and make myself write it. I’ve seriously been procrastinating on this one. I don’t know what my deal is. -.-;

Marichat Prompt: This is an overflow prompt I received as part of my Productive Procrastination Prompt Giveaway. It’s about Chat Noir visiting Marinette and it somehow coming up in conversation that Marinette has always thought of Chat as a player. For some reason, this makes Chat really angry because he can’t stand her in particular thinking that about him. I thought this story out a couple months ago, but I didn’t write it down, so now I’ve forgotten, and I’m going to have to think up the plot all over again. XD

Alyadrino Prompt: Someone sent me an Ask that said, “Snuggle party makes me imagine what if nino and alya accidentally did to adrien what luka and marinette intentionally did to him in shades 12″, and I thought, “…Oh, all right. Why not?” I had a basic outline of what I wanted to do with this story a couple months ago, but I didn’t write it down, so now I have to figure it out all over again. Oh, well. I have the basic idea, I think.

Lukadrigaminette: At the beginning of the month, I thought, “I should do Valentine’s Day stories!” I ended up writing a Marichat one, and then I had this idea. It’s not Valentine’s Day related, so I decided to shelve it for later. So, several years ago, my friend and I concocted this scheme to bake for our respective crushes and win their hearts that way. It’s a really fond memory for me, and I’m turning it into a Lukadrigaminette story. Luka and Kagami join forces to bake for Adrien and Marinette in order to win their love.

Plagg and Wayzz Prompt: I got a comment on one of my stories that said, “Can you do a top wayzz bottom plagg one? Preferably in universe and in human form. Doesn’t have to be smut.” First I thought, “What the bloody hell?” because it was a comment on a Lukadrien story, and that’s all it said, and I thought, “Well, that’s random.” I’ve never really written Wayzz before, but this gave me the idea for a story where the team is up against an akuma that somehow separates them from their kwamis, leaving the heroes unable to detransform and the kwamis in defenseless human form. What I came up with really doesn’t have anything to do with the prompt other than Plagg and Wayzz will both be in human form. It will probably just end up being a Lady Noir identity reveal piece, honestly.

Supportive Adrien Lukadrien One-Shot(?): I haven’t actually pinned this story down well yet. ^.^; I was just thinking that I wanted to write something where Adrien is the one supporting and encouraging Luka, since I typically write Luka being a supportive presence for Adrien. I was thinking that the scenario could be that Luka is feeling down because Marinette still loves Adrien and things aren’t going well between Marinette and Luka, so Adrien takes Luka on an outing and confesses his love and they live happily ever after or something.

The only thing is that a different scenario is trying to creep into this story. It’s really weird. It’s post-Papillon defeat, and Adrien is twenty-four (Luka is twenty-six). He’s been in kind of rough shape the past few years since his father was arrested and he lost his family and home and fortune. He couldn’t finish university, and he’s been travelling around, trying to find work and make a life for himself. He ends up back in Paris, broke, and auditions for a band because he happened to see a flyer advertising for a new lead vocalist. It just so happens that it’s Luka’s band, and Luka ends up finding out about Adrien’s situation and taking him in and feeding him...but that scenario is just more Luka taking care of Adrien, and that’s not what I wanted to write. XD It also feels like multiple chapters, and I don’t want to go there. Oh, well. We’ll see what happens.

Adrien Trapped in AU-Land: (Adrienette, canon universe featuring AUs) My idea is based off of a writing prompt submitted by @graaythekwami on the @miraculousfanworks Discord server: AU where all the characters wake up in a different AU every chapter, fully remembering what happened in the last AU. My idea is for Chat Noir to get hit by an akuma (probably named Escapist or something equally dumb ^.^) who traps Adrien in a series of alternate realities (AUs) until he realizes his feelings for Marinette and manages to break free.

L’Amour de Loin: (Lukadrien, post-Papillon defeat, Félix wingman) I did a sneak peek for this here. This was one of the two “Winter Lukadrien Pieces” mentioned on my last status update. Adrien is living in London with his aunt and cousin three years after Papillon’s defeat and arrest. He’s in rough shape and hasn’t kept in touch with anyone from Paris. One day, he gets a text from Luka out of the blue, and they rekindle their friendship. Félix acts as wingman to ensure that it turns into something more.

Adrienette Hanahaki: Awhile ago I did an ask game about a trope I’d like to try writing, and the one I came up with was Adrien with Hanahaki disease (The one where you start coughing up flower petals due to unrequited love making flowers grow inside your lungs). I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve decided I’d like to actually write this story. My basic outline is: Adrien starts showing symptoms, and Gabriel badgers him about whom he’s in love with, and Adrien just blurts out, “Marinette!” And Gabriel threatens Marinette into dating Adrien, and they start fake dating but then fall in love.

Happenstance and Magic: Marichat May 2019. Marinette and Chat Noir adopt kittens together, and Adrien tries to get Marinette to see that he’s not perfect but still a worthwhile person deserving of her love.

I’ve been thinking about this one, and I think I’m going to cut the number of prompts I actually use. Once I’m done with the other stories, I want to sit down and make a more thorough outline of what I want the story to be and which prompts I’m going to use to get me there.

The Seduction of Adrien Agreste: This is part of the Springtime in Wonderland (Daisy/Jabberwocky) series. It deals with Luka and Adrien experimenting with physical intimacy to see if they can reach a compromise where Luka and (asexual) Adrien are both comfortable and have their needs met.

Things Currently on the Backburner:

The Rejects Club: Predominantly Marichat with Adrienette. Chat Noir and Marinette unexpectedly grow very close very fast as they open up to one another after Marinette overhears Adrien seemingly dismissing her as a romantic prospect. Identity shenanigans at farcical levels ensue.

I can’t really deal with Rejects right now. I’m feeling super overwhelmed by basic life stuff, so I don’t really have the mental or emotional energy to put into a story where I don’t know how many more chapters there will be until the end. I’m thinking that what I have planned will take at least another one or two hundred thousand words. This thing is just so massive, and I’m not in good enough mental heath to deal with it right now.

Springtime in Wonderland: Yeah, no. See the paragraph directly above. This is another one that’s going to take another couple hundred thousand words to complete, and I just don’t have the stamina in me right now. I’d rather focus on smaller projects that actually feel attainable. I’m trying not to burn myself out.

And that’s it for the moment. I’m sure I’ll come up with plenty of other stuff between now and the next time I do a status update post, but is there anything that you’re particularly interested in? Let me know what you’re thinking.

Thoughts? Feelings? Suggestions? Opinions? ^.^

#Adrinette #Adrienette #Marichat #Lukadrien #Lukadrigaminette #Alyadrino #Lady Noir #Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Chat Noir #Ladybug #Luka Couffaine #Status Update #Mikau's WIP

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reincarnated70sbaby · 3 years

Text

star crossed

-chapter one-

jimmy page x fem!OC

warnings: none!

A/N: so I’ve been toying with this idea for a while, and I’ve finally felt inspired enough to put it in motion!!

words: 2.4k (🤨)

star crossed masterlist

next chapter>>

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fresh off the success of Led Zeppelin, the namesake band were already quick to get back into the studio and start recording material for a new album.After a long eight months of non-stop touring, the band already had a sizeable amount of rough demos, all written on the road or between concerts.

On a warm day in September, they reached Mystic Studios, and were finally able to transform the songs from paper to production. Arriving at the studio early, the band entered, not knowing what to expect as the manager and owner of the small studio, Tom, was quite vague on the equipment available.

“Finally, that car ride took fucking years” Bonzo complained, after being stuck in the small vehicle for almost an hour straight in the balmy Los Angeles climate.

“God damned Yankee traffic, they should really fix that, I mean, how is it normal to add an hour to your commute time every day?” Robert inquired, getting out of the sleek, black car.

“We’ll we’re here now, let’s just get down to recording eh?” Jonesy stated, ever being the optimist.

They walked through the wide double doors, upon which they met Tom. Jonesy, Bonzo and Robert chatted shortly with Tom, before continuing on with the tour of the studio. Jimmy, having been napping in the car ride, was stretching his legs while his band mates were entering the studio. When he entered, he collided with a flock of red hair, the owner of which stared up at him in shock.

“Uh, s-sorry Mr Page, didn’t see you there, hope your ok” Alice stuttered, unaware that the famous band were arriving this early in the morning.

“I would hope you’re ok, after all you’re the one who ended up on the floor” Jimmy chuckled, extending a hand to the young woman, Alice taking it and rearranging her disorganised stack of paper in her hands.

“Thank you, Mr Page” Alice replied, avoiding Jimmy’s eyes in embarrassment.

“Please, call me Jimmy, no need for the formalities” Jimmy replied coolly, slightly intrigued by the aura of mystery that surrounded her.

“Yeah okay, Jimmy, I should uh get going” Alice said with a smile, while pointing to a random direction behind her, her legs kicked into action and she walked quickly to the back office.

Jimmy stood there for a brief moment, liking how his name sounded in her voice, before getting his head straight and navigating his way to the recording booth.

“Ah, there he is, the famous Jimmy Page!” Tom declared as soon as Jimmy entered the mod room connected to the booth.

The rest of the band rolled their eyes, most publicists and managers often overly praised the guitarist, aware of his famous temperament and trying to stay in the good side.

Finally, once introductions and navigation were over, the band could finally start the recording process. They started off with a bit of a loose sesh, playing random riffs and melodies that came to them in the moment, as well as prepared verses and choruses written on the road. Then they decided to begin recording ‘The Lemon Song’.

Upon hearing the song playing, deciding since all of her small errands and messages were complete, Alice walked into the mod room.

“Hello, Alice, how y’a doing this morning?” Tom questioned, his heavy southern accent reverberating through the soundproofed room.

“Great, how’s the band? They sound great” Alice replied, still not sure of what to think of Tom, this only being her third week as an intern in the studio. She desperately needed the money, it was actually good pay considering all the work she did all day, part- receptionist, part assistant, part cleaner.

“Pretty good honey, now will you go get me a coffee from the store down the street? Two sugars and cream please” Tom commanded, obviously not up for conversation at the minute. Alice rolled her eyes behind his back, wishing she could be a bit more involved with the recording process. It was her dream after all, to be a sound engineer. That’s why she moved out to L.A, leaving everything and everyone she knew behind at home.

Walking down to the diner down the block, Ellie collected Toms usual of coffee and bagel with cream cheese, the order she knew by heart at this point. Wondering if the band would like coffee, she decided against it incase they weren’t on break yet. Knowing the work with of rockstars, they might only take a break at 10pm once they got into the groove of recording.

Returning to Mystic, Alice walked through the reception , straight to to mod room. When she entered, they entire band, along with the recent arrival of their infamous manager, Peter Grant, were all situated around the room, conversing over the song playing over.

“Working hard or hardly working boys, Hmm?” Alice quipped before handing Tom his coffee, before exiting.

“Who was that? I met her briefly today but I didn’t get anything out her” Jimmy inquired to Tom.

“Oh, that’s Alice, she’s our intern, great little thing, always round to help if anybody needs it” Tom replied curtly, looking up from the mixing table.

“Hmm, quite the looker isnt she eh?” Robert joked, noticing how bright her eyes went when she saw all the band in the control room.

“If you say so, but we keep it professional in this studio boys” Tom instructed, his fatherly side coming out, after all he did feel a bit responsible for Alice. If she didn’t get the job he could’ve only assumed that she would be out on the streets.

“Ah just some fun and games Tom, we’re very professional, as you know yourself” Bonzo joked, knowing he would only flirt with her as a joke, he was married after all.

“Right enough chatter about the bird, let’s get back to recording” Peter demanded, not there for gossiping.

———————————

The following days ensued similarly, the boys would record a track, dissect it in the booth, before recording any new ideas or improvements. The band often stayed early into the morning hours, determined to finish a song, not matter how long it took.

Once Alice arrived early the next week, Tom immediately asked for his usual order in the diner. On returning however, Tom asked Alice to stay in the control room.

“Alice, thank you for this” Tom said, gesturing to the coffee on the table, realising only recently that he wasn’t the nicest to Alice. Determined to work on the friendship with her, he decided it would best if she got more experience into the recording and mixing process, knowing she wanted to move into that career path.

“Of course, what did you want me for” Alice asked, unsure of her boss’s newfound friendliness.

“We’ll Alice, I’m just going to be straight with you here for a moment” Tom started, looking her in teh eyes with a stern face. Alice gulped, fearing she was going to be fired. She couldn’t fathom why though, she thought she did everything perfectly. Maybe she got his coffee order wrong and ordered it wrong each time? Maybe they didn’t need her anymore? She couldn’t understand that possibility, as the office was a lot more organised and certainly cleaner, after her arrival.

“Uhm, sure?” Alice replied uncertainly, not sure where the conversation was going.

“Well Alice” Alice gulped. “I know I haven’t been the friendliest to you, and I am aware of your aspirations to become a sound engineer, am I correct” Alice nodded quickly, keeping her eyes on Toms. “I am very thankful for everything you do in this studio, you are the backbone of us here, always picking up the grunt work when It needs to be done” Alice released a deep sigh, thankful that she wasn’t going to be fired.

“Oh phew, thank god, uh yeah, no thank you for keeping me on” Alice replied releasing a quick sigh.

“Keeping you on? You didn’t think I was going to fire you was I? Oh god Alice, I’m sorry for making you feel anxious, I could see you were getting a bit agitated” Tom said, trying to calm down the redhead.

“Thank god, anyway, you were saying” Alice continued, curious to know where he was going with his spiel.

“Oh yes, uh, where was I? Right, yes I want to break you into the engineering side of this job, if that’s ok with you. I’ll teach you the basics later, but you’ll be learning on your feet okay? It might be a bit overwhelming, to put it nicely, at first, with all the jargon and knowledge. But soon you’ll catch on, you’re a very bright girl so I know it won’t take too long” Tom finished, hoping he didn’t sound to brash.

“Oh my god, I can’t uh, thank you! I really appreciate this Tom, it’s my dream, wow!” Alice excitedly replied, finally happy to get down with the business. She sprung to her feet, and flew her arms around Tom. He didn’t really know what to do, but nevertheless he hugged her back, happy they were on an amiable relationship.

“Okay, uh, hate to say this, but could you just bring me in the extra tapes in the back room, then we can start the whole process when you get back, before the band get in obviously. Once they are in you will just shadow me ok?” Tom requested.

“Yeah of course, I’ll go get those now, anything else” Alice asked, not really wanted to do any more errands after weeks of doing them, but still being polite.

“No that should be fine” Tom answered, resisting the urge to ask her to get him a donut. He just reminded himself that it would be good to have a second engineer in the room, especially one he could train with his liking.

Alice walked to the back storage room, looking for more tapes. On entry, a small box on the bottom shelf caught her eye. On the top of the box ‘FRAGILE’ was printed in dark red letter. It looked like it hadn’t been touched in years, with the amount of dust covering it. Swiping away the dust on the label, it read ‘THEREMIN’. Alice eyes widened, she had heard of this instrument when in school, but hadn’t seen one in real life, as they were hard to master and not in fashion with any music genre currently.

Re-entering the mod room, she placed the extra tapes on the large table at the back of the room. Sitting down on the large swivel chard beside Tom, he started explaining the control board to her, as well and slang for certain keys and nobs. He continued until the band arrived, around 30 minutes later. Tom requested Alice stay in the control room, feeling she could be of benefit. Checking over her notes, she began to familiarise with the huge board. There must have been around 100 nobs and switches, all with different functions. Tom was impressed with Alice’s intellect, she responded well and added thoughtful questions about the mixing process. Tom could tell within a week she would be well roped into the process.

Taking a break, the band, Alice, Tom and Peter all sat down for lunch in teh small break room. There was only two tables so they conjoined them and ate together. Conversation flowed easily, everyone exchanging funny stories from the business, touring and random tidbits of memories.

“And I was sitting there with a frozen banana smoothie all down my front, absolutely frozen - I mean what are you supposed to do when you tell a girl no to her invitation to you coming back to her house, in god knows where, then she throws an fucking smoothie at you” Robert stated exasperatedly finishing off his sandwich

“Come on Rob, that was nearly five months ago, you would’ve thought you’d have forgotten it by now” Peter joked with a gently shove to Robert.

“Yeah I know, still gives me nightmares at night” Robert answered while playfully rolling his eyes.

“Same thing happened to me Robert, except, it was my wife and she was giving out shit to me for missing my daughter Grace’s dance recital” Tom added.

“Um, actually Tom, you missed Hannah’s recital, Graces is on next week. I think the handprint Cheryl left on the back of your head was a cute accessory hm?” Alice added, casually calling Tom out on his bluff.

The entire table went quite before bursting out in laughter. Alice panicked for a moment, fearing she went too far but calmed when they all laughed, joining in too.

“The bird is English? Why didn’t you tell us Tom?” Bonzo asked, directing his eyes to Alice.

“Excuse you, the bird is sitting right here” Alice said, pointing to herself.

“Well I thought you would’ve picked up on it by now John” Tom replied.

“Well uh, the drums, y’know” Bonzo answered, shaking his hands around his ears with a smirk plastered on his face. He was actually quite embarrassed that he overlooked her that much, she seemed like a talented girl behind the booth screen.

“Where you from love” Jonesy enquired kindly to Alice, opening up the conversation to her again.

“Well, I’m from a small village beside Heston. I used to live in France til I was five, as my mother is French” Alice replied with a smile, Jonesy was the one she talked to the most.

“Well would you look at that. How small the world is, you and Jim being from the same place. Mad world Hmm? How did someone from Heston like you end up in the city of angels?” Peter enquired, finding the whole situation rather funny, both Alice and Jimmy going slightly red.

“Um, I finished school at sixteen and moved out her shortly after, and have been here since” Alice answered, slightly embarrassed that she didn’t know she was reared in the same town as Jimmy Page.

“So you must be what, around 20 something?” Robert asked.

“No, I actually just turned 36 last month, I guess I look younger that I am” said Alice, trying to keep a straight face. She was met with dumbfounded faces of the Zeppelin lads. The boys looked between her and Tom, who kept his expression neutral, running with the joke.

“Gosh, you don’t look it’s, that’s for sure” Robert interrupted, still hoodwinked by the new information.

All of Alice’s self control was lost, she and Tom both bursting out simultaneously, wiping away tears after a coupole minutes of gut laughter.

“Of course I don’t, I’m only 18 for gods sake!”

“Right, enough small talk, let’s plan the songs you wanna record next” Tom interjected, stewing the conversation back to business.

“Well I think we should start with Whole Lotta Love and see how it goes” Jimmy piped up, only now joining the conversation, previously he had being staring at Alice, trying to place her as she looked familiar.

“Yeah I agree, that one probably needs the most work” Bonzo added, happy to get down to the complicated track.

Various forms of agreement were sounded from the rest of the band and staff. When they had finished up they all returned, energised to continue the recording the album.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

navigation

star crossed masterlist

ok so first chapter! this was going to be a prologue but I think I’ll just add another chapter before we time skip!!

again, please feel free to leave any criticism in the comments!! if anyone has any ideas or plot points they think would work, just message me and I’ll see what we can do!!

tag list - @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @princesspagey

ask me if you want to be added!

#jimmy page #led zeppelin #my fic tag #frans fics

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nostalgic-pancakes · 3 years

Text

F is for friends who do stuff together - the awake at 2 AM remix

Joan needs a swear jar, Talyn's a lightbulb, Valerie is tired and valid, and Thomas+Sides are very confused)

Summary- Thomas has had his sides around for... a long time. That's for sure. And he knows that nobody else can see them (except maybe Lilly, but she has sides too, so).

Pairings- Pintroverts, Thomas and friends, Thomas and Sides

Read on AO3

Word count- 2666

Warnings- It has character!everyone, and NOT their real life counterparts. Please remember this.

Other notes- AU where instead of Vine, c!Thomas left chemical engineering for signing with a really dope theatre company with his friends. He still meets Nico at the mall, but Nico's a new writer for the company! All the sides are friends too! Enjoy!

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Look, the first time was an accident, okay? Joan was tired and a bit incoherent and what was Thomas supposed to do?!! Leave them be? No! So Joan ended up staying the night.

Except, the next morning was when everyone had entered the courtroom together and they'd gotten WAY too dramatic over whether to lie to them about a text they'd made like… two days ago and that Thomas had only seen after combing through a barrage of memes and that Joan probably wouldn't remember, come to think about it. But that was hindsight and after the utter nightmare that was a whole day (A whole day!!) with Aunt Patty the day before, Virgil and Patton were absolutely freaking out, probably giving Deceit (Who, in hindsight, Thomas knows as Janus) a little extra leeway into the conversation that day.

Either way, Joan had stayed the night in order to recover from the utter sleep-deprivation that they'd been going through, and Thomas had forgotten about the fact that Joan was even there for most of the morning, only seeing them after the entire courtroom spectacle (and a suspiciously dire warning from Virgil) at breakfast, and them leaving to see Talyn a little after (with plenty of hugs involved, duh).

Then Thomas told Joan the truth over the call, and Joan had said The Line (as Roman, Virgil and Janus call it with an oddly cryptid-like voice) and Thomas felt himself go frigid.

Since when did Joan know that Thomas talked to his sides?! Had they learned their names? Figured out that Thomas might just have a few extra screws loose than they might have initially thought?

"Maybe they even hate us now because we got so crazed over one little text and--”

“Virgil. Not helping!” Thomas yelps, and Virgil catches himself in his spiel of worst case scenarios, looking a bit sheepish. Patton and Thomas smile at him reassuringly (he hopes) and Logan clears his throat, causing everyone to turn to him.

“Well, Joan seems to be aware enough of the fact that you speak to us, but mostly considers it as you, as they had said, ‘talking to yourself’, and besides, you didn’t name-drop us too many times, anyways. And while it’s not really...ideal, that Joan thinks you talk to yourself for this long-”

“You can say that again, Stephen Hawk-Nerd”, murmured Roman. Logan winces, and Thomas kind of wants to hug him, so he does.

“Yes, Roman, and as bad as that nickname is, note that this is not, in fact a worst-case scenario. This can be put down to the fact that Thomas has some strange personality quirks-”

“Did you just do some wordplay there, kiddo?” Patton beams at the implication, while Logan, currently being shared by Thomas and Virgil, just groans and descends further into the contact.

“No, I did not, Patton, but what I am saying, is that this is not too bad. We can talk about it as a general personality quirk. This is fine.” Logan finishes, and becomes a heap in the total hug-pile of Thomas and Virgil, flopping over. Huh, he (as usual) has a point. Maybe this can work.

The second time was a pretty near miss, but once again, it was unexpected! He and the sides were just watching Mulan together as usual! They were piled up together, blankets in hand, and yeah, it might look weird to anyone who can’t see the sides, he guesses, with the blankets stretched out in places that have nothing to stretch onto, but once again, he wasn't expecting someone to come over! But anyways- whatever happens, happens. He's trying to be better about it.

It really doesn't stop Janus from pulling out all the stops (teaming up with Virgil, even!) when it comes to having to come up with an alibi to Terrence over why the blankets are arranged so strangely, even though there is literally nothing keeping it afloat. In the end, it's not the most believable lie, but Terrence is busy with Valerie just after, so he probably doesn't really think about it too hard. Besides, Thomas has always been a pretty quirky guy! ("Which could be an insul--" "Jack and Sullen, we love you very very much, but please, for the love of all things Disney, please breathe and take out your fidget cube..") So hey, what was a new quirk when added to everything else?

Meanwhile, Terrence is trying to figure out what the fuck he just saw, because he's pretty sure that there were more than one Thomas there, and Thomas only has two other brothers. Also none of them dress like twenties mobsters or are semi-transparent.

Nico was having a good day. In fact, he still is!

He and his (amazing) boyfriend were sitting on the couch- though more draped on top of each other than anything while binge watching ELITE and Tiny Pretty Things, while also being pleasantly high (as opposed to stoned).

Things only entered strange territory when during one of the flashback murder-y scenes in Tiny pretty Things, a strange man who looked like an even more chaotic Thomas with some grey hair on him entered the room from seemingly nowhere, and proceeded to occupy the sparse space on Thomas’s lap with his head, essntially just napping on his boyfriend’s lap while also being kind of see-through (???!!!???AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH). Thomas noticed, waved a small wave and started playing with this weird guy’s hair.

Nico is now a little high from the bong that he and Thomas had shared, but not enough to hallucinate, especially since, when the high was pretty much gone, the guy was STILL THERE. MIERDA. At this point, he’s just going to call it ghosts. Thomas doesn’t seem to mind too much anyways, so they must not be harmful. Nico decides to table this for another day and go back to binge watching crazy maniacs with his very soft and warm boyfriend, and let the remainder of the high coast along.

"We have to talk about the Thomas thing." Is the first thing Joan says without any bullshit, as soon as everyone except Thomas himself, Gavin (because it's two AM) and Quil are packed together in Thomas's living room, where he just binged Parks and Rec with everyone. They've all finally managed to shove Thomas and Quil back to their respective areas of sleep after 42 hours without said sleep, and nobody was allowed to talk loud enough for them to wake up.

"The… Thomas thing?" Asks Valerie. Oh that sweet summer child. Joan once again quietly calls everyone's attention by asking Talyn to shake their hair around like a neon-coloured alarm bell. This was especially effective in the otherwise dark kitchen where they were trying out glow in the dark hair dye.

"Well, as of lately, we've been seeing a lot, and I mean a lot of really weird shit coming from Thomas. Everyone, recount your experiences." Joan says in the most serious voice they've got. "I'll go first."

They wave their hands like Matt Mercer, as if they were setting up a dope DND campaign. Quietly, of course.

"Well, about a month ago now, I was cleaning here, at Thomas's, because I was sleep-deprived and would have crashed and died if I'd tried to go back to mine and Talyn's. So most of the night goes normally, as one would expect, but when I wake up in the morning…" Joan readjusts their beanie. "I hear Thomas in the living room, talking to people called Logan, Roman, someone called Pat, Virgil and 'deceit'. And this debate becomes an ordeal, alright? He re-enacts a whole entire ace-attorney style courtroom scene with these imaginary people? I called him out on it over the phone when he apologized for some random thing- I don't remember, and he kind of just… admitted that he talks to himself? And moved on.

Everyone absorbs this new information. Camden keeps braiding Talyn's hair.

"But that's not too big of a deal, right Joan?" Whispers Camden, tying up the elaborate mini fishtail plait in Talyn's hair. "I mean, thanks Thomas we're talking about. He could have been rehearsing or something- isn't he JD in the next production of Heathers?"

Terrence speaks up next. "Yes, this would have been all well and good, had the Blanket Incident ™ not occured."

Valerie shakes her head. Why are her friends like this? Oh wait. They’re all theatre nerds, queer and D&D players.

"In the blanket incident ™, I was walking past Thomas's room, as one does. HOWEVER, while he was watching Mulan, I noticed something wrong with his blanket pile!"

"What, that they don't have any Vetal Miking references on them? Because that's the true tragedy here."

"Nope, sorry Tal, the weirdness here was not about Vetal Miking references, but the fact that parts of the blanket were freaking floating, in thin air! I have discreet pictures!"

"What the fuck, Terrence." whispered everyone in a strange, haunting unison that could only be possible at two AM as they saw the very strange pictures.

"And that's not it!" Pipes up Talyn, who is now realising that they are very close to becoming too loud for 2 AM kitchen chats, and makes an effort to quiet down.

"At breakfast today, Thomas's waffles were making themselves- Thomas can't cook, y'all. And he can't even use is fucking waffle iron. And he was on the other side of the room! Talking to Quil!" After Quil left, he told the waffle creator to chill out because the stack was getting too tall!"

"Is this about Thomas's ghosts, guys?" Asks Nico, the new cute boyfriend and new theatre company writer as he plops down in Quil's usual spot. Nico's nice- everyone likes Nico except maybe Nico, to which, well, mood. ALSO- ghosts?!!

"Nico what the fuck do you mean by ghosts, you serial killer in training?"

"One, just because I have to write a serial killer in this new script and I'm enjoying it, it doesn't mean I'm gonna be a serial killer, you tonte. Two: yeah, the ghosts that follow him around and look just like him? They seem nice enough." At everyone's super unspoken request to elaborate, for fuck's sake, he takes the hint and does.

“Oh! So the first time I saw them, I was at the mall. You know, where Thomas and I met?” everyone nods, and Talyn readjusts their braces.

“So there was this guy in a hoodie- Virgil, as you said, and the Disney prince. Roman, I think. And they were just kind of… there? Roman was holding Virgil’s shoulder affectionately, and that’s about it. They were only really visible after about three or four hours of us talking, though.” Some of the people hum.

“Then, we were watching a movie and these two guys who also look a lot like Thomas just kind of lounged? On the couch? They were pretty faint, like if their brightness was decreased to about thirty percent in Photoshop.”

“Hey, same!” says Terrence.

“Yeah, so those guys- the one in the green t-shirt that has the legs on the bus meme- so weird- kind of just stretches onto Thomas’s lap and stays there, while the twenties mobster just… curls up to his side? And thomas is probably like, used to this because he kind of just lets it be and curls the meme shirt-”

“I think it’s Remus.”

“-Remus’s hair absentmindedly and moves on.”

“Fuck.” Whispered Joan very softly, but with great feeling.

“So what do we do about it?” asks Camden. There, finally, someone asks the real questions.

“Well,” puts forward Talyn. “They’re not harming him, right? And he’s had them around for a long enough time, right? So what’s the harm? Thomas is just haunted and will probably be on Buzzfeed Unsolved: Supernatural at some point when he dies but hey, if he’s cool with it, we are too.”

Everyone seems to agree with that, and they’re in comfortable silence, until Valerie asks everyone to go the fuck to sleep, we’re still doing the Heather’s costume rehersals and Death Week starts in two days. With groans and cracked joints from Talyn, everyone hobbles off to their respective rooms in the duplex.

Meanwhile, a certain white-streaked side and his hoodied companion are listening through the wall, far away from what anyone can see, and they both visibly sigh in relief. That didn’t go too badly. The question remains: what do we do now?

“They KNOW????” exclaims Thomas, the next day in the (thankfully empty) breakroom, in between rehearsals- Candy Store is being run through and that means that everyone else is outside.

“Yes, Thomas, they know. Or they somewhat know, I suppose.”

“Yeah, because they think we’re-Thomas is being HAUNTED!!’

“Are you not haunted, then?” comes a voice, and Thomas turns around, forgetting to let the sides dissipate in his surprise. It’s Nico, with Talyn and Valerie close behind, who are clearly taking in the six other guys in the breakroom. Well, fuck. The cat’s out of the bag for good, he guesses.

“Could you get everyone else during lunch break? I’ll explain then.” Talyn nods and leaves with a smile, telling him that they’re not mad at him, while Nico asks, voice farther away “So are you haunted or not?”.

“So they’re… aspects of your personality that you’ve been able to manifest since you were a kid?” Camden asks, a bit disbelieving, even as Logan, Roman, Patton and Janus drape themselves over Thomas on one of the beanbags in the breakroom, filled with other nerdy gay young adults. Logan pushes up his glasses, ready to go on another tangent. Go wild, you funky little dude.

“Well yes, that’s exactly what we're saying. I myself am the embodiment of Logic- every fact that Thomas has ever learned, and his, and these are his words, not mine, ‘the only braincell’. He makes the air quotes to go with the expression, but is also smiling fondly.

“Classic Thomas.”

“Yes, Valerie, I am inclined to agree. However, this is not specific to Thomas. Other people can, in fact, do what Thomas is. Lilly Singh is one of them- the reason that she and Thomas are even friends is because in high school Thomas caught her talking to one of her sides in the art room.”

“So wait-- we can summon sides too?!” asks Nico, and he and Camden look genuinely excited, but Thomas knows the answer to that question.

“Unfortunately no, not really. You have to have an extremely active imagination, and also be ‘innocent’, as society would put it. I’d say näive.”

“For example, I couldn’t make any more sides after i was fourteen, because I watched the news by then.” pipes in Thomas. Joan seems to process this first, nodding and grinning sardonically. “Ah yes, the news. Wrecking childhoods since forever.” everyone nods in gay syncing, because gay minds think at the same time.

Valerie suddenly speaks up; “So how many sides do you have, Thomas?”

Thomas perks up, because his sides are possibly his favourite metaphysical beings (as narcissistic as that might sound) “I have six! My logic, morality, both creativities- Kids and Family and PG13-and-up, anxiety and deceit! I have two creativities because of catholic guilt and my mind’s inherent need to cause chaos, I guess.”

“Valid” replied Valerie.

The rest of break passed by pretty smoothly, with questions being passed back-and-forth about what the sides truly were, considering they clearly were not just Thomas, and Virgil even felt okay enough to come in later! So that was good. Though he kind of wishes Remus had made fewer Heathers jokes- Camden was starting to look squeamish, even as Nico frantically took notes of gorey facts to use in his script.

Honestly, Thomas thought to himself. What was I scared of?

Irrational things. And rejection, replies Virgil in his head. He laughs and pulls him in for a hug, and tries as he might to deny it, Virgil is looking pretty chuffed.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #character thomas #nico flores #nico flores x thomas sanders #pintroverts #not rpf #do not repost #ts virgil #ts logan #ts remus #vee's writing #2021 #f is for friends verse

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theonetheycallhannah · 4 years

Text

The Treatment of Capt. Syverson-Chapter Two: Therapeutic Procedure

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: Shane and Sy share some moments during their treatment sessions…and a phone call that could set the tone for the next few weeks.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: None, yet… ;)

Author’s Note: Sorry, I was so eager and excited to post the first chapter of this last night, I totally put some inaccurate info in my description notes. I will correct that in the original post and try to do better henceforth! Hope you enjoy Sy and Shane totally flirting some more and getting more friendly in this chapter. Feedback is appreciated! Even constructive criticism! :D

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags: @onlyhenrys @cavillryarchive @summersong69 @titty-teetee

Let me know if you wish to be added to the list! I’m happy to do it!

Shane woke up that morning with knots in her stomach. She dropped every product she picked up in the shower, she was shaking so much. She accidentally ordered the wrong coffee on her way to work and was now drinking something much less caffeinated and far too sweet for her taste. The barista had informed her it was a grande caramel macchiato with an extra pump of vanilla and extra caramel drizzle…with only two shots of espresso…she couldn't begin to describe how wrong that drink was for her. But it was better than nothing, she told herself, not fully convincingly.

She had chosen her clothes with extra care, even though, with the dress code, her options were limited. And she had made sure to put on a bit of mascara and just a touch of perfume, even though they weren't strictly supposed to wear it…she didn't know why she was bothering.

Well, actually, she did know why. She had been checking her schedule extra diligently lately to make sure she didn't look like a hobo when Sy was coming in. He'd been coming for three weeks now, and after the initial bellyaching about Jordan not being as pretty as her…her heart!...and his feeling extra sore after his visits with him, they were on a roll and had a great chemistry together as far as their treatments went…she tried not to think about…beyond the world of therapy.

She thought back to their first session after she got back from her trip. And the conversation they had.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I think the next time you can't see me, I'm just going to cancel." he had sulked as he wiggled his mass of muscle onto the mat.

"Sy, no. you need therapy. Don't be like that to Jordan. He's an excellent therapist."

"He ain't you though." he smirked, sending her heart racing with that smile that somehow managed to look both boyish and rakish under his full, dark beard. Fucking hell. He needed to stop.

"Well, we can't fault him for that, can we? Lay back, Mister." She demanded. Done with the niceties of the evaluation and onto the treatments where she was in charge. The boss.

"Yes, sir!" she laughed at his clear avoidance of calling her ma'am.

"So where'd you go last week? Vacation or stay-cation?" he asked, the term "stay-cation" sounding downright comical coming out of his country-boy mouth.

"I went to the beach. Gulf Shores."

"I thought you looked like you got some sun."

"Yeah," she pretended his noticing the detail of her awesome tan did not send her reeling. "My folks rented a condo right on the water for my siblings and I to come and stay with them. They're still there. It was tough to leave all that beauty." the beach, pretty much any beach, was her favorite place to be.

"I bet…" he looked at her, something dreamy in his eyes, but he looked away before she could process it. "I thought I had my fill of sand and sun when I was over in Iraq. But you make it sound…like paradise." he smiled softly up at her as she worked on his knee, trying to break apart some of the scar tissue from the injuries and surgeries he'd had…and focus on that, and not the warmth rising in her.

"That's the perfect way to describe any place on the Gulf of Mexico. I doubt it's anything like Iraq, since there's so much water around. It's my favorite vacation destination. Well, apart from London."

"Them British folks always seem so stuck up. Don't know if I'd get along with any of 'em."

"It felt like a second home for me. Everyone was very kind and polite, for the most part. At least it was no worse than it is here."

"Maybe it's just because you're so nice."

"Wait 'til about week eight or ten of your protocol. You won't think I'm nice then. You'll be cussing me out and ready to ring my neck."

"Promise?" he asked, a dark grin on his lips and in his eyes…she faltered for a moment, gulping.

"Cut it out, Syverson." she rolled her eyes, covering…without great effect the way he made her feel.

"Yes...ma'am." he smirked with satisfaction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And now, today, she'd be treating him again, fairly early in the day, and she had to prepare herself. She'd checked the policy, and although there wasn't anything strictly against dating a patient, it was clearly a conflict of interest, and would be frowned upon by her frigid tyrant of a boss. Best to let things remain platonic for now.

Her 9:30 was a no show, so she finished up some notes and was working on some continuing education credits when messenger popped up around 10:00.

Sergeant Sexypants is here. He's quite early and he knows it…*smirk emoji* he must like you, Shane!

Heather, come on, be respectful…he was discharged at the rank of Captain! *rofl emoji* and I think you might be right about him liking me…*nervous emoji*

Oooooooooh!!! You guys are gonna *couple kissing emoji* *eggplant emoji* *okay emoji* *explosion emoji* *baby emoji*

Omg…*three facepalm emojis* I am going to go ahead and start him early since my 9:30 was a NCNS.

Don't finish him too early. Make it last. *smirk emoji*

Jeez. She closed the chat and went to grab him from the waiting area.

"Hey Sy, you ready?"

"You bet, sunshine!" he flashed her a crooked smile. He was calling her sunshine now…ad that to the list of things she'd have to pretend didn't make her swoon.

"Great. Let's start on the bike. How's the knee feeling today?"

"Oh, it's…about the same. Stiff. Lil' sore."

"Well, it's a slow process, like I told you at your eval. You've got a lot going on in there."

"I know…just…it hasn't taken me four weeks to do anything in my life." he sulked. "So…thinking about this taking…twelve or more…" he grimaced as he sat down on the bike, and adjusted it for his longer than average legs, putting his feet in the pedal stirrups.

"You may not see it, Sy, because you're so close to it, but trust me, you're making progress. I can tell you're doing your exercises at home, and you're always willing to put in the work here. You have no idea how much that sets you apart from…some of these other people." she leaned in closer and spoke the last part more quietly to him. It was true. So many of her patients were either lazy or just in it to appease their MDs into writing them scripts for pain meds. That wasn't Sy.

"You really think so?" he gave her the side eye with his baby blues, crushing her with the color like the waves of the ocean she'd just returned from.

"In fact, I know so." she placed a reassuring hand on his broad and thick shoulder. She felt the tension between them hum, like electric current.

"Now, level one, and a steady pace. You're not trying to win any medals here. I'll take those crutches."

"When ya think I can 86 'em damn things?" he griped as he handed over the assistive devices.

"Well, you see Potter again tomorrow? I'll write an update today and send it to him. If he likes what he reads, or more likely pretends to read, regarding your progress, he may discharge them. Do you feel like you can be good to the knee and treat it nice without using crutches? I don't want you to regress and re-injure yourself. That's not gonna get you into your running shoes any sooner."

"I'll be nice. Real gentle." he winked at her…he wasn't just talking about the knee. And she knew it. But again, she pretended she didn't, ignoring once more those butterflies threatening to choke her they were multiplying so fast in her belly.

"Okay, I'll put that in my note. Patient compliant with instructions to be nice." she laughed.

They talked as they biked, Shane sat on the one next to him and pedaled along with him for something to do other than be idle. She thought it made him feel better as well. Like he wasn't doing it alone. They covered the subject of her siblings, an older brother in IT and a younger sister who was an MA, and his German Shepherd, Aika, which he was allowed to bring home from Iraq after they were both honorably discharged. Music, both of them completely in agreeance about the superiority of classic rock.

"I noticed you've worn a Lynyrd Skynyrd shirt a few times and meant to say something before now."

"Yeah, they're one of my favorites. But there are a few newer groups that I like a lot, too. Kings of Leon got me through some tough times, honestly."

"Oh, they're great! I love their sound. And their lyrics…poetry."

"No shit. Sorry." she shook her head and raised up her hands to indicate that he didn't need to apologize to her for swearing. She'd been known to make sailors blush when she was off the clock. "Only by the Night…that whole album is…it's just in my blood, ya know? Ya ever have an album do that?"

"I have. Whole artists catalogs, actually."

"Which artist?" he prodded.

"The Beatles. Pretty much every song. Like you said, it just, like, I dunno, it's almost deeper than the veins. It's in the marrow. My soul." she stared off out the windows ahead of them, thinking about her favorite band in the world and how magical it was to experience Sir Paul McCartney playing some of her favorites live…twice…and the timer on the bike went off, pulling her from her daydream.

She looked over at him, startled by both the noise, and the dreamy look in his eyes that was becoming all too familiar.

"Sorry." she stood, grabbing his crutches for him and handing them back to him from where she had leaned them as they rode.

"Hey, don't be sorry for…ahem…for loving what you love. We should all…hold on to the things that make us feel like that." she nodded.

"Thanks…I don't think a lot of people…understand the way I…my tendency to take things like music, movies, and shows…books…so deeply to my heart." they walked to the treatment room from the gym, taking their time, since they had it. A rare occurrence for Shane, always needing to capitalize on every spare minute. To make productivity a priority.

"I think…that…well, seeing a pretty grim side of the world like I have…seems like there's enough darkness and bullshit making everyone miserable. If we find something…or…someone…that brings us some happiness or even just makes that misery bearable…we oughta hang onto 'em real tight. Cherish it like gold." the silence in the small room was loud with that electrical hum of their tension again. He'd said all the right things, as he always seemed to, but under the absolute wrong circumstances. She just nodded.

"They teach you philosophy in Basic?" she giggled. He laughed back in response.

"Oh, no, Basic was way easier than…whatever goes on inside of us."

"Speaking of which," she segued deftly, "lay back, and let my try to get some range out of that knee before I take new measurements for this update I'm gonna write."

"Yes, ma'am!" he chuckled.

"You get some sick thrill out of calling me that, don't you?" she scowled playfully at him.

"Oh, you have no idea…ma'am." he winked at her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Shane was wondering how Sy's appointment went as she ate her soup at lunch and caught up on her morning notes. She got a ping on messenger.

You have a gentleman caller…*eggplant emoji* hehe, he's on line three.

Geez…thanks Heather.

No need to ask for a name. She knew Heather meant Sy.

She picked up the phone at her desk in the treatment room.

"Hey Sy! How'd the appointment go?"

"Hey, sunshine…eh…he said I'm doin' good, but he wants me to stay on crutches another two weeks." she could hear grave disappointment in his voice. She felt for him.

"Aww, I'm sorry Sy. I know you wanted off those. And I know they're a pain. Literally and figuratively."

"Why wouldn't he want me off 'em?" he was so frustrated. He must have just left the office.

"Did you ask him that question?"

"You know doctors, Shane. Not like I would have got an answer in plain English. Figured you'd know."

"Well, I haven't seen your post-visit report, but it's my presumption that he wants to play it safe. You know he spent most of his day in the operating room with you, right? An eight hour surgery, you had. He probably doesn't want to undo all that by d/c'ing the crutches too soon."

"I was gonna be careful though, Shane!" he was worked up properly, and she could hear it over the roar of his pickup in the background.

"I know you were, Sy. I'm sure you were going to take all kinds of precautions. But what if you're walking into your kitchen, during a storm, and there's a loud clap of thunder, and Aika gets startled and busts past you? What if you're feeling good one day, and forget about it, and jog to catch up to someone holding the door open for you and miss a stick or something under foot? You can't prepare yourself for every pebble or patch of mud in your path, Sy. Accidents will happen. Some circumstances are beyond our control…we just have to do the best we can. The crutches are going to help you until we get you stronger. That's what we'll focus on until those two weeks are up."

"Why is it you can calm me down like this?" he asked, sincere and truly calmer than he had been.

"I'm just a good therapist, is all."

"Ya don't think that's really all, do ya?" the sound of his deep drawl in her ear from the receiver made her shiver. He was implying something that she just couldn't entertain. It wasn't possible for them right now. Maybe…down the road…in a few weeks…

"I'll see ya tomorrow, Sy. Come ready to work that knee."

"You didn't say no…" he was too hopeful. Damn it, he was cute when he was hopeful. She was glad she couldn't see his face light up like she knew it was doing.

"You may have noted I didn't say yes, either."

"Yet. See ya in the mornin', sunshine."

"Bye, Sy."

She put the receiver in the cradle and her face in her hands.

"Shit."

She had a feeling this particular patient was about to become much more complicated.

Up Next: Chapter Three-Therapeutic Activity

#netflix sand castle #sand castle #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x ofc #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson x ofc

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

Text

Won’t You Stay (Part 12)

Summary: With the reader now acting and directing, things are about to get a bit more hectic. Until things go horribly wrong that is...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x Director!reader

Word Count: 2,800ish

Warnings: language, angst, implied past domestic abuse, arguing

A/N: Please enjoy!

_____

“Put your left foot back,” said your stunt coordinator the next morning, Jensen sipping on a coffee as he watched you rehearse on some mats. “Now get your butt in here Ackles. It’s your stunt too.”

“But coffee,” he whined, chugging it down quickly before he set the empty cup down. He jogged over and took a place by you, giving you a smile. “She has no idea what she’s gonna do, does she.”

“Y/N, we’re gonna have you flip, Jensen,” said Adam. You stared at him and then at Jensen, looking him up and down.

“I can’t flip him! Have you seen the size of him?” you said.

“Shouldn’t have written Molly getting pissed and going hulk then,” said Jensen. “It’s not a big stunt. You don’t even have a real fight scene. One little flip is all.”

“Jensen, come at her like we practiced. Slowly,” said Adam. Jensen walked in front of you and made the first move Adam had showed you. You grabbed his hand and Jensen spun you around. “Pause. Y/N. Now that your side is to him, you’re gonna use your hip to flip him.”

“Uh...” you said, Adam stepping in and taking your place.

“You’re gonna plant your feet, Jensen’s going to lean forward and then...” he said, pushing out his hip, tugging gently on Jensen’s arm and then using his hip to get Jensen up and over. He slammed back down on the mat and gave a thumbs up. “Y/N, you’re up.”

Jensen hopped up to his feet and got back in position. You started the move again, pausing when you got to lifting him up.

“You got power in those hips. Go on, use it,” said Adam.

“You won’t hurt me, Y/L/N,” said Jensen. You grabbed his hand and put out your hip, Jensen leaning forward and you felt yourself pick him up, leaning forward so you could flip him on the ground.

“Good, very good. Let’s try again a little faster,” said Adam. You reset and tried it again, Adam smiling more this time as it looked more natural. It certainly felt it. “Good. Perfect. Practice a few more times but I think you guys got this. I’m gonna grab another coffee and Jensen we’ll work your fight scene for tomorrow more when I get back.”

“He gets to enjoy his coffee,” said Jensen, rolling over on the ground.

“Can we try a few more times, grumpy?” you asked. “I’ll let you in on the secret coffee club.”

“There’s a secret coffee club?” he said, shooting up with a smile.

“Yup. Very elite. If you help me learn this stunt, I can pull a few strings and get you in,” you teased. He smirked and stepped in front of you.

“Oh, I think I’m getting in no matter what,” he said.

“Is that a fact?”

“I can be very persuasive when I want to be,” he said.

“Oh really,” you said. He hummed and wrapped his arms around you. “Not very effective.”

“It will be,” he said, dipping his head down to your neck and kissing under your jaw.

“Cheater,” you growled, giggling when it started to tickle.

“Morning kids,” said your dad, Jensen practically jumping away from you. “I’m not interrupting am I?”

“Practicing a stunt,” you said, Jensen nodding quickly. Your dad looked him up and down.

“That what they’re calling it nowadays,” he smirked. “Don’t mind me. Carry on.”

“Just uh, really go for it this time,” said Jensen. You nodded as you started the move again, your dad humming as you flipped Jensen over.

“Jensen, get a bit closer to her. She won’t need to put out her hip so far and it won’t look as rough,” said your dad. He shrugged as he got back up, your dad rolling his eyes when Jensen got into a new position. “No, get up behind her, like touching.”

“Like this?” asked Jensen, his thigh brushing the back of your leg.

“Yeah. Try it that way. You’ll both save your backs a bit,” he said. You tried flipping Jensen again and it felt like one smooth motion that time, your dad giving a thumbs up. “Much better.”

You practiced a few more times before Adam returned and you swapped out with your dad, he and Jensen going over a fight scene.

“Jensen, come find me when you’re done here,” you said.

“Will do, pretty girl.”

“Reporting for duty,” said Jensen, knocking on the door of your office up in the production suite an hour later. You smiled and finished typing an email, sending it off. “I was hoping I could get in on this coffee deal before we start filming soon.”

“You going to try giving me a hickey again?” you said as you stood up and grabbed your bag.

“Only if you want,” he said, flashing a wink your way. You laughed and headed out to the hall with him. “I take my coffee very seriously so I hear about a secret coffee club, I’m in.”

“You know how my dad and some people stop over to the workshop in the morning where they build sets? Check out office B sometime,” you said.

“Why not now?” he said.

“Because I have to go to a staff meeting,” you said. “Unfortunately.”

“You could always skip,” he said.

“I don’t think I can. But head over and grab some before we get going. We’ll start in twenty minutes,” you said. “Okay? I’ll be over soon.”

“There she is,” said your dad when you finally made it to set half an hour later. “You forget where work was?”

“Can everyone gather around?” you called. You walked over to the center of set, waiting a beat for the crew to get together. You shut your eyes and let out a slow breath of air, reluctantly opening them. “Alright guys. I just had a meeting with the studio execs. Apparently a complaint was made yesterday about the slowness of filming scenes I was involved in. I would have preferred whoever it was came to me or their supervisor directly but it’s too late for that now. The studio decided that I can either continue as the director on this project or I can be an actor. I apparently lack the experience necessary to manage a project of this scale while doing both.”

You took another deep breath and sighed.

“I…” you said, finding your dad’s face in the crowd. “I have decided-“

“It was me,” he said. You stared at him, your face falling. “Can we discuss this in private?”

He stepped forward and grabbed your hand, pulling you outside.

“Kiddo-“

“No,” you said, shrugging him off. “I...I just told them I would stop production so they can find a new actress. Either way this thing is dead. They’ll never pick it back up now so thanks for that.”

“Y/N-“

“Fuck you,” you said as you stormed away. You felt his hand on your arm and you turned around. “Stay away from me. Forever.”

“Y/N,” he said.

“You know, this book, this movie, has been the one fucking happy thing in my life the past year and you had to go and rip it away from me because I ran us late one fucking day,” you said. “You gave me six fucking hours to figure out how to manage everything before you went and pulled the carpet out from under me. Six hours. I was delegating today, I was figuring it out but apparently it was too fucking late for you.”

“Kiddo-“

“No. Just stop. Big fucking movie star, always gets his way. Well work is cancelled. Go the fuck home. You don’t have to worry about being late now,” you said. You could feel the tears running down your face and knew you couldn’t go back inside and talk to everyone like that.

“You can’t do both. I could see how overwhelmed-“

“I am not a child!” you shouted back. “You do not make those decisions for me! Who the fuck are you to say I can’t do something? Fuck you. You’re a fucking shitty dad. I would have been better off with the bitchy dead mom.”

He stared at you as you wiped off your face with your shirt. You walked back onto set, ignoring the looks you were getting.

“As I was saying, I decided to keep my directorial role. Production is going on hiatus while the project searches for a new female lead,” you said, voice cracking. “It’s unclear how long that will be but the estimate given to me was for months. Information will be sent out by email later today. I apologize for the delay and look forward to working with everyone again soon.”

You practically ran out of there, making your way towards your production office when a hand caught your wrist and started to drag you along after them. You looked up, Jensen pulling your hat down over your face as you started to cry harder.

“Almost there,” he said, a trailer door opening. He locked it after himself and he set you down on his couch, kneeling down in front of you. “Hey. Hey. When they find a new lead-“

“It’s dead. After today, it’s never gonna happen. I know it’s just a stupid movie and it doesn’t matter-“

“It’s not a stupid movie. It’s yours. It’s not stupid,” said Jensen, wiping off your face and brushing his thumbs under your wet eyes. “I’m sorry. I thought you did great yesterday.”

“I can’t believe it was my dad who complained. He’s not supposed to hurt me,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut. “Why does everyone hurt me, Jens? What’s wrong with me? I’m so pathetic. We need to stop this before you find whatever it is that’s wrong too.”

“Hey,” he said, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m falling for you and I’m not leaving. There’s nothing wrong with you. I don’t know why your dad did that but I don’t think he wanted to hurt you.”

“Too fucking late,” you said. “I was so mad and...I just said something horrible to him.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Jensen. “You’ll get past it, both of you will.”

“I can’t,” you said. “If it was anyone else...I was so proud of this stupid thing.”

“Honey,” said Jensen quietly. You shook and he sat up on the couch, pulling you to sit on his lap. “You’ll be okay. It’ll come back.”

“I’m sorry. Now you don’t have a job or a paycheck-”

“Y/N, stop freaking out. Don’t worry about the rest of us,” he said. You sighed into his chest and he ran a hand up and down your back for a few minutes until you’d calmed down.

“Thank you,” you mumbled eventually, Jensen kissing the top of your head. “Sorry I’m such a shitty girlfriend. This is supposed to be the fun part of the relationship.”

“I think the whole thing is supposed to be the fun part,” he said. You lifted your head up, a smile on his face making you feel a little better. “Despite what you may think, I’ve been having fun this whole time. Relationships and lives aren’t perfect. I don’t want a perfect one. That’s boring. I’ll take this and you, however that looks.”

“Okay, fanboy,” you said, taking a deep breath.

“There she is,” he said, smushing his cheek against yours, a bit of peace returning to you.

“You’re not gonna hurt me,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder.

“No. Whatever happened in the past, you didn’t deserve that,” he said.

“I cheated on Logan,” you said.

“He sounds like he definitely deserved it,” said Jensen.

“It was a hookup, guy I met at a bar. Nice guy but it’s all it was. I came home that night, back to my apartment with Logan and if I thought I’d seen him angry before, that was nothing,” you said. “I just wanted to be with a nice guy, someone kind, just for a minute.”

“You should be with a nice guy for a lot longer than a minute,” said Jensen. “I think you were justified to do what you did. Don’t feel bad over that.”

“I don’t. I regret it because that’s when it went from controlling to worse,” you said. “After a week of getting pushed around, I left but by then I was so beaten down and he’d fucked up my head and then my book got picked to become a movie. I was so happy, for the first time in over two years, I was happy,” you said. “I hung onto it too hard and that’s why it hurts so much to lose it.”

“You didn’t hang on too hard. I’m glad you found that thing to pull you out. It’s not the only thing you have to cling to though, Y/N. Not anymore,” he said. “You know that, right?”

“I’m not putting that on you.”

“Too late. It’s my job,” he said. You didn’t say anything and felt his chest rumble. “You have your family too.”

“No I don’t. I can never tell my siblings about Logan,” you said.

“What about your mom?”

“She loves dad, not me,” you said.

“That’s not true and you know it,” he said. “She’s your mom.”

“She wanted him, not me. She’ll pick him,” you mumbled.

“Is that what Logan told you?” he asked. You kept your mouth shut and Jensen sighed. “Don’t give that fuckface anymore control, Y/N. You’re not alone. You never were.”

“I can’t talk to them,” you said. “What if she got mad about him being late last night?”

“Y/N, stop spinning your wheels. I’ve met your parents and your dad is my friend. They love you. I’m sure he thought he was doing something to help,” he said.

“Yes, clearly it helped,” you said.

“Why don’t I take you home?” he asked.

“Alright,” you said with a nod. “It’s not like I have to go back to work now.”

It was nighttime when you finally got an email from the production office. You tapped it open, frowning and quickly sitting up from the couch.

“What the fuck…” you said. You read the email about fifteen times before you were calling Mark and AJ. “Guys, did you read the email?”

“Yeah. I thought we were dead in the water. Apparently we’re just on a filming break until Monday while we figure out a plan for directing duties while you film scenes? Did you have some other kind of meeting we don’t know about?” asked Mark.

“No. This project was on hiatus last I knew,” you said.

“Unless someone higher up changed their mind, I don’t know how we caught this break,” said AJ. You stood up and went to your closet, grabbing a jacket. “Y/N?”

“I think I have an idea of what happened. Or who. I’ll see you guys at the office eight tomorrow morning? We can map everything out,” you said.

“Yeah, sounds good boss,” said AJ. “You okay? You ran out of there pretty quick today. We tried looking for you but you were gone.”

“I’m not sure yet,” you said. “I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

You hung up and called Jensen, his phone going to voicemail. You tried again and got the same thing. When you were about to redial a text came in from your dad.

Come over. Jensen’s here. We need to talk.

You stared at the phone and squeezed your eyes shut before you grabbed your keys and were gone.

_______

A/N: Read Part 13 here!

#supernatural #spn #jensen x reader #jensen ackles #supernatural series #supernatural reader insert #jensen ackles x reader #spn reader insert #jensen reader insert #jensen x #jensen ackles x you

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