#too main mirage soon after getting fuse
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Plastic Hearts – Part 21
Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader
Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.
Chapter Warnings: +18, language, smut (p in v, dirty talk, spanking), fluff, angst, comfort
Word Count: 7.6k
A/N: It's finally happening! Get the Office gifs ready 👀😂
It's so good to bring this series back after such an unexpectedly long time away. We've got five more chapters left, so let's make 'em count with as much drama and ridiculousness as possible, shall we? Ready? And action! 🎬
<< 20 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist
21. Rock You Like A Hurricane
Dean swallows the clot that has formed in the back of his throat as the first button of her white cotton blouse flies open. The air in the office feels dry, his mind hazy. Is he dreaming? Once again, he reminds himself to stop mixing booze and blow. It never ends well and barely ever helps.
Another step forward, another button, another swallow.
Y/N is a Fata Morgana, a mirage, slowly moving towards him through blurry lines and summer heat.
“Don’t you want me?”
The innocent lip bite that accompanies her question sends him downstairs, predestining him to burn in hellfire. He swallows again. Of course, he wants her. He always does.
The heels of his boots dig into the rotten floorboards as he pushes back on his office chair, enough to free his thighs from underneath the wooden desk and show off the bulging erection blooming in his jeans. It started to form as soon as she walked in and turned that damn lock behind her back.
The corners of her pink lips rise to a smile. She likes what she sees, and soon enough, she finds herself slotted between his bow legs with his greedy palms smoothing up her denim-clad thighs until they find a home on the juicy globes of her ass and squeeze tight. Green eyes darken as they wander up her frame before they meet two sparkling orbs that mirror his own lust back to him.
More buttons spring open, the blouse slipping off her shoulders and hitting the ground. A gray leotard becomes visible, two pointed peaks on luscious hills poking through the thin material, his mouth forming a ring around one of them, hot air igniting her skin and stealing her breath. Her arms weave around his neck, her head lolls back between her shoulder blades, her legs grow unsteady. Eyes close, fingers tangle in his hair and claw at his skin.
One large hand travels to the front, works the zipper of her jeans, and shimmies the denim fabric down two smooth thighs. His other arm snakes around her waist, holds her tight, and pulls her closer until she straddles his lap and lets their hips fuse into one.
Their eyes find each other. Gently, he brushes her hair out her face, tucks it behind her ears, strokes her flushed cheeks. She’s breathless and breathtaking, and then she dips her head and catches his lips, kissing him until he is, too.
“Wait, wait, wait…” He draws back in a drunk state of mind and gasps for air, hoping oxygen will help in clearing his head.
“What?” She pouts, her voice velvety soft and delirious.
“I just-… I have to ask you something first, make sure…” The air works wonders, the fog dissipates from his mind. Green eyes watch her closely. There’s something off, something wrong, something out of place. Y/N wouldn’t just stroll into his office and throw herself at him. As much as he enjoys this little dream sequence, it’s not who she is. “Why are you doing this? You’re not-, uhm…” He swallows harshly, his mind racing in circles. “You’re not fucking me, so I’ll stop being mad at you, right? ‘Cause that’s not what I want.”
God, the thought alone kills him. It’s his goddamn nightmare. What if he subconsciously manipulated her to do this? What if he’s taking advantage of her? What if he drove her so desperate that she sees this as her only option? What if she actually doesn’t want this?
But a gentle smile forms on her face instead. She pecks his lips, rests her forehead against his, and softly shakes her head. There’s amusement in her voice. “You already said you weren’t mad at me, remember?”
“Then why?”
Y/N shrugs and licks her ample lips. “I want to. I want you… You’re the best guy I know. I can’t think of anyone I’d want this with more,” she assures him with a sweet smile and caresses the scruff on his cheeks, her hips grinding against his crotch. “It’s just-…” She bites down on her lower lip, cutting off her sentence.
“What? Tell me, sweetheart.” He clutches her chin and draws her gaze to meet his eyes.
“Even with the show being over, I don’t want the girls to find out,” she confesses nervously.
Dean nods in understanding and gifts her a smile. “Lucky for you, I’m good at keeping secrets. Have I ever let you down in that regard?”
She thinks for a beat, then shakes her head and matches his smile. “No.”
“See?” He grins, showing his pearly white teeth, and pulls her lips back to his for a searing kiss that seals their deal.
His hands begin to roam the curves they’re holding, her hips rocking against his in a needy rhythm, desperately searching for more friction to scratch the unbearable itch he seems to cause.
“Need you so bad, need this cock so bad…” she whispers between kisses and ragged breaths.
“Yeah? You think you can get off like that?” Dean lifts his thigh a little higher, shoves it right against her clothed cunt to give her a bit more friction, and listens to her whimpers in satisfaction. “Show me how much you want this… want me, baby girl. Wanna know how desperate you are for this cock, Y/N. Work for it.” His challenge is accompanied by a little smirk, which soon disappears and becomes stuck in his throat when Y/N accepts with eager nods.
Shit, he really needs to stop underestimating her. That’s already been his first mistake when he met her.
Her arms lock tighter around his neck for more balance as she rubs her pussy against the rough denim that covers his thick thigh. Her breathing grows so labored that kissing becomes an impossibility, the need for air in her lungs greater than the need to stay connected. The strong arm slung around her waist helps her move while his other hand tweaks, pinches, and gropes her tit, prying the gray cotton of her leotard over one shoulder to free the flesh and expose her nipple to the cool office air and his hot breath. He feels a wet patch forming on his leg, sees the stain on his jeans from her arousal as he peeks down between them.
“Dean, I’m–…”
Y/N doesn’t have to say it out loud. He can see it on her face that she’s damn close. “Such a good girl. Cum for me, huh? Let me finally fill and stretch this nice pussy with my cock, baby. Been waiting for you,” he coos. “Bet you’re so tight, yeah? How long’s it been?” His tongue licks the hardened bud before he pops her tit in his mouth and sucks, bites, tears.
“Fuck!”
She explodes, his name falling from her lips in prayer as she trembles and quivers in his arms. Her mouth parts, sucks in as much air as she can to fuel her lungs. Her arms cling to him, fingers denting the skin on his broad shoulders.
“That’s my girl,” Dean praises her, smiling as he lets her ride out her orgasm. “So, so pretty when you come. I missed that face.”
“Dean, please… Need you inside me now,” she purrs against his lips, swallowing his groans as they connect.
“Yeah? You sure?”
“Uh-huh, please,” she begs breathily. “How d’you want me, boss?”
“What do you want, Y/N?” Hearing what a woman wants him to do to her or what she wants to do to him has always been one of the biggest turn-ons for him. “Tell me.”
“Want you to bend me over your desk, take me hard, punish me… Been a bad girl. Need you to punish me, please,” she whimpers and hungrily claims his lips, her nails digging into his jaw.
Now, Dean should probably be worried or at least stumped by her somewhat strange request. Not because it’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard a woman ask for in the bedroom, but because it’s not necessarily something Y/N would say. However, she’s also an actress, and he’s about 99.9% sure she’s playing a role and following a script in her head. And well, hey, he likes playing too, so who would he be to deny her wishes? He’s been dreaming about spanking her ass and punishing his favorite Russian villain for weeks at this point.
“I think we can arrange that, baby girl,” he promises, a saucy smirk plastered on his lips. “But first – need to see your face when I break you in, yeah?”
Y/N grins and nods against his lips, her hand reaching down between their heated bodies and unbuckling his belt, pulling it from its loops, metal clinking before the sound of a zipper follows. Lifting her ass from his lap, he helps her strive off the denim, pushing it down his legs till it pools by his ankles, only leaving a thin barrier of cotton between them.
“Condom?”
Dean nods and motions for her to stand up, so he can reach into the bottom drawer of his desk. As he fishes out a foil packet, Y/N discards her leotard, nothing but naked skin and flesh left for his eyes to devour. Removing his own pair of boxers, his long cock bounces against his stomach and stretches to his belly button, fully erect, head swollen, and leaking at the tip. He tears the foil with his teeth and rolls the latex down his aching length before his hands drag her back into his lap.
Her arms settle on his muscular shoulders, her lips find and bruise his as he lines himself up with her entrance and threads his dickhead through her dripping folds. Her cunt is pink and glistening, hot and wet as he slowly slides inside, lets her feel every inch that fills her tight hole to the brim, her small body sinking down on him till they’re inseparable.
A moan escapes them both when he’s fully sheathed in her heat, and Dean knows lasting long would border on a miracle. Her mouth falls open as he stretches her tight walls, her eyes seeking his and not daring to look anywhere else. Unsurprisingly, Y/N takes direction well. She remains connected to him – mind, body, and soul.
“Fuck, Dean,” she breathes and swallows at the sheer thickness inside of her, her eyes finally falling closed as their foreheads meet.
Dean caresses her cheek and softly pecks her hairline. He then shuts his eyes as well and just focuses on the feeling of her wrapped around him for a blissful heartbeat. This is all he ever wanted.
Her. Here.
“You good?” he checks, his fingers trailing soothingly up and down her spine as she relaxes her muscles and adjusts to his size.
A gentle smile twitches and tugs on her lips. “Yeah, I’m great… You feel great.”
“You know, if you keep giving me compliments like that, it’s gonna be hard for me to smack your perky ass purple and blue,” he chuckles and watches a grin form.
“I like to make things hard for you,” she sasses and kisses his lips, her pussy purposely gripping his throbbing dick.
“There’s my bad girl.” Dean can’t fight the smile on his face. “Alright, you ready?”
Dean doesn’t have to wait for an answer as her hips begin to lift and rock against him, calming like the Pacific waves and soothing like the lullabies his mother used to sing when he was sick as a child.
“M-more,” Y/N whines, the needy desperation haunting her vocal chords.
“Beg for it,” Dean whispers, nuzzling his nose against her ear with a smirk.
“Please… Please fuck me, boss,” she rasps her pleas. “Need it hard and fast.”
“Anything you want, sweetheart.” Dean catches her lips, the kiss scorching and lasting before his hands smooth up her bare thighs and grab her ass tight, lifting them both from the chair.
Swiftly, her soles hit the ground as he swirls her in his hold and bends her over his desk. Her tits press flush against the wood, his palms finding her hips as he pulls her closer to him, ass up until it brushes against his solid length. With his knees, he spreads her legs wide and easily slots between them. He palms both asscheeks, caresses the skin before he administers his first slap, the sound echoing through his quiet office with her whimper as he watches the juicy flesh ricochet, completely entranced.
“You got a safe word, Y/N?” Dean asks as he soothes the red spot on her cheek.
“Hmmm,” she muses and bites her lower lip, and he can see the mischief twinkling in her orbs. She giggles, “What about ‘camera guy’?”
His palm strikes the other globe, making her yelp and jolt on the spot.
“Ow, fuck!” Y/N’s moan drowns in a laugh. “Jesus, Dean, I was just kidding.”
The director chuckles, “Yeah, well, I wasn’t.” With one harsh and fast thrust, he drives his cock back into her tight cunt, causing her to slam forward, her hips bruising against the desk. Her fingers curl tightly around the edge, knuckles white as she keeps herself pinned in place. He leans forward, his chest pressing against her back as his warm breath fans against the shell of her ear, his blunt fingernails denting the skin on her hips. Smirking, he demands, “Safe word. Now.”
“Fuck, uhm…” Breathlessly, her mind spirals, his cock slowly dragging in and out of her and not stopping to give her even a second to ponder. “Squirrel?”
“Squirrel it is,” he agrees amusedly, straightening as he picks up his pace and drives in deeper, watching as his dick gets swallowed by her soaking cunt, his swollen shaft glistening with her slick. “Shit, baby girl… Wish you could see how well you take me. Your needy little pussy sucks my fat cock right in,” he groans, listening in delight as his balls slap against her ass with each roll of his hips.
“Maybe you can bring your camera next time, boss,” Y/N mewls her suggestion as she falls apart underneath him.
“Yeah? Would you like that, huh? Would you like to see how fucking desperate you are for me, sweetheart?”
“Uh-huh, would love that, boss. Wanna see how you fuck me and split me open,” she breathes hazily, her moans getting louder with each slam of his hips. “F-fuck, so close… Wanna come on your cock, please.”
“Oh, we can arrange that, sweetheart,” Dean chuckles, his breathing growing more labored as well as sweat starts to collect on his skin in sticky beads. He’s close, too, feels his cock throb and swell inside of her. His palm smacks her asscheek one last time. She cries out with pleasure as the sting burns her skin, her pussy clenching around his dick and gripping it tight.
But just as his hand sneaks to her front and finds the sensitive little nub, their ears both perk up as the big metal door of the gym flies open and a wave of female chatter floods inside.
“Oh, shit!” Y/N moans loudly at his last violent pound into her pussy before Dean’s palm covers her mouth and stops the rest from spilling out.
Pulling her up, her back straightens and presses flush against his body. He slows his thrusts but still pushes in deep enough to tickle her cervix and keeps the little circles on her clit alive, feeling her knees give in as her legs become putty. Her breathing is harsh and restricted against his palm, her lips straining and tightening to keep the screams inside.
“Ssh, ssh, ssh… you’re doing so, so good, baby,” Dean whispers his praises into her ear and chuckles as she clenches hard around his dick. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Trust me, they won’t hear us over their blabbering,” he chuckles. “Relax, okay? Let loose… little more,” he orders her, feeling the tension in her muscles shift to her head as she bites down on his fingers to keep it locked inside. “There you go… Gonna need you to come quietly, and I’ll be right behind you, alright? Can you do that?” Y/N nods against his hand. “Good girl,” he coos and pecks her temple quickly.
And then, he draws out till only the tip remains inside her drenched channel before he roughly slams back in. His thrusts become relentless in both speed and force as he fucks her, her screams of pleasure only muffled by his palm and the harsh bite of her lip. Tears sting her eyes and stream down her cheeks, trickling onto his fingers at the intense pressure as her walls tighten. One more thrust, and they begin to flutter, her body convulsing as she falls over the cliff and milks his cock for all he’s got, pulling him over the edge with her.
A primal grunt rumbles in his chest and crawls out of his throat, his fingers leaving bruises on her hips behind as he spills hot ropes of his seed into the condom, his cock throbbing in rhythm with her twitching cunt. His hand falls from her mouth as she braces her palms on the wooden surface in front of her.
Deliriously, they both gasp for air, every breath jagged before the storm within them calms. Dean brushes her hair from her sweat-covered neck and lovingly kisses the salty skin on her shoulder blade, a blissful smile gracing his lips.
The sun blinds her eyes as Y/N stands on the green, perfectly cut lawn of the Dusty Spur. The boys have called an emergency meeting at the motel this time, gathering all the women in front of the reception outside.
It’s been three days since she has fucked the director in his office. He was careful not to leave any marks on her throat behind or anywhere else where it might catch unwanted attention, no one batting eyelashes at the new bruises on her hips that joined some of the old ones from training.
Dean told her he wanted a repeat of their encounter, whispering the dirtiest and most sinful promises into her ear. However, they haven’t seen much of each other since then. Both of them have been quite busy after the news of their new time slot and impending cancelation broke. And while it certainly dampened the lighthearted mood in the gym for a day, hope was not entirely lost, though, and still thrived in everyone but Y/N and Jo.
Yet, the two of them played along with the illusion the show still could be saved for the sake of the team. She didn’t know why Jo was entertaining the farce, but Y/N did it for her friends and, well, Dean, who’d been pondering and working nonstop to try and figure out what went wrong in his well-oiled machinery.
Y/N hates that he blames himself, not having the guts to tell him it’s in reality all her fault. Even with his sunglasses on his freckle-dusted nose, she can see the bags under his green eyes from the lack of sleep in recent days and feels more guilt pooling in the pits of her stomach. She doesn’t want him to be mad at her again, which is why she’s glad she can use Billie’s new, harsh training regiment as a good excuse to avoid him.
“They gave a men’s wrestling show our slot! And you wanna know why, hm?” Cas throws his rhetorical question into the group. Y/N has never seen the producer so angry and swallows more shame down. “Truth is, they’re better! They fly higher and hit harder!
“They hit harder because they’re bigger. It’s physics,” Y/N points out and tries to keep her annoyance at bay. It’s a men’s world they’re living in, and she’s getting sick and tired of the comparisons.
“Oh, fuck physics, Y/N!” Cas yells, causing her to flinch at his tone. “I need you to take everything you got and push it all the way to the limit, okay?”
“I don’t know what else we can do. We’ve been training for hours almost every day. Sun up till sun down,” Donna says and sighs.
Maybe it’s not too late, and Y/N should request a private meeting with Dick at the network, try and smooth things over before they get any worse. Maybe a blowjob in the office is enough to get them their old slot back and save the show. Dean wouldn’t ever have to know, right?
Besides, would he even care? Maybe he’d be grateful. After all, she doesn’t have much worth beyond fucking someone if you asked anyone here.
“I don’t need to hear excuses. I need to hear results,” Cas huffs and places his hands on his squared-off hips, shaking his head.
“You want bigger moves? Fine, you’ll get ‘em,” Billie assures him with a biting fighter spirit.
Cas’ lips curve into an enthusiastic smile. “That’s what I wanna hear! Look, I know this is gonna be hard, but I believe in miracles, and we’re going to make this miracle happen!”
Jo heaves a sigh. “Right, so we break our bodies and wrestle harder and magically get our time slot back?” she asks wryly, but her sarcasm is sadly lost on Cas.
“Yes!” the producer agrees joyously. “Look, I have it from Richard Roman himself that this is what they’ve been missing.”
At that, Jo’s blaming eyes wander to Y/N as the two former friends share a look. Shamefully, Y/N averts her gaze to the green grass underneath her feet, and Jo clenches her jaw tightly and starts to grind her teeth. Ever since their heated conversation in the gym, things have went downhill between them. Nowadays, there are just judgmental looks and passive-aggressive comments passed between them.
“So you met with Richard Roman?” Jo turns her unresolved anger towards the guys.
Cas groans loudly and rolls his blue eyes back. “Jo, I’m sorry, okay? It was a guy thing. We had to storm the gates,” he explains.
“Yeah, don’t get back up on your feminist high horse, alright? We didn’t leave you out, okay?” Dean jumps to Cas’ defense and unsuccessfully smooths things over. “We just think your focus should be on performing this week, you know? You and Y/N have a big match coming up. The, uh, continuing tale of the bereaved mother and the insane Russian, right?”
Jo nods and clenches her jaw once more, biting back her surely fiery comments.
“Okay, enough talking! Let’s do it!” Cas announces eagerly and claps his palms together as the women scatter back to their rooms to get ready for today’s training.
“What time do you wanna rehearse today?” Y/N bitterly asks her blonde opponent, already expecting a bitchy answer.
“Oh, any time, really. I mean, we could rehearse all day and night. It won’t make a difference,” Jo replies in an annoyed tone as anticipated. “You of all people should know that.”
Y/N watches Jo leave, trying her hardest not to strangle her former friend. She gets it. She fucked up, but she still doesn’t agree with Jo. Would sleeping with Roman and sacrificing her dignity really have saved the show?
“Hey, everything alright?” Dean’s deep voice startles her. She was so preoccupied with killing Jo in her mind, she hasn’t even noticed the director sneak up on her. “I know Cas was a little intense today. Never seen the guy this riled up before. It’s like a puppy getting rabies.”
Y/N forces a chuckle from her throat and brushes him off. “Oh, uhm, yeah, wasn’t so bad. I get it.”
Dean’s brow creases, sensing something is off with her. Shit. She does not want the director to find out about what happened.
“You’re not mad at me, right? I know I’ve been a bit MIA the last few days. It’s just been crazy with everything going on,” he explains sincerely and shoots her a soft smile. “I meant to call you or at least talk to you. I hope you know that.”
“Yeah, no, like I said, I get it, Dean. Don’t worry about me, okay?” she assures him and compels another smile to her face before her curiosity takes over. “Did Roman really say our moves weren’t good enough?”
Her hope comes flooding back. Maybe it truly wasn’t her fault. Maybe the guy hits on so many actresses on a weekly basis that he doesn’t even care if one rejects him. Maybe it’s just all in her goddamn head, and it was just bad luck all around.
Dean shrugs and scratches the back of his neck. “Well, he didn’t say it exactly like that, but you girls are amazing. He’s gonna change his mind, and you’ll be back in your old slot in no time,” he promises her hopefully.
“Yeah, I guess so…” Fuck. It’s definitely about her.
“You sure you’re okay?” Dean checks again, noticing her absentminded behavior. Y/N’s usually chipper, eager, talkative, and hard to keep contained. She’s a warrior. The woman in front of him right now is the complete opposite, however. He almost doesn’t recognize her, and it worries him a little.
Is it him? Did he break her?
“Uh-huh, yeah, just tired, you know? Billie’s been riding us pretty hard this week,” Y/N excuses her strange mood with a half-truth, and Dean seems to buy it.
“Yeah, I bet.” He nods understandingly, chuckling. “Well, uhm, I’ve got some free time tonight. You wanna come over for dinner and I don’t know maybe… stay? You could ride me pretty hard, too,” he suggests, making her snort. “Admittedly, that sounded better in my head. Sorry.”
“No, uhm, I’d love to,” she replies honestly, giggling at his bashfulness. “But I’m pretty beat. Probably gonna fall into bed around seven like a dead person. Raincheck?”
Truthfully, there’s nothing she’d rather do than spend her nights (and days) with Dean, but the guilt in her belly is eating her alive. She can barely look him in the eyes. As of right now, though, she can see even more disappointment shimmering in his green orbs.
“Sure, yeah. Open invitation, sweetheart,” he says and acts as if her rejection doesn’t bother him. “But still, if all you wanna do is sleep, then you’re welcome to do that at my place as well. I do have the better mattress than the motel. Maybe a good night’s rest and a hot bath is all you need to recover, you know?”
Hot bath. The words make her skin crawl and take her right back to that horrible night where it all went wrong. How could she have been so stupid?
Y/N swallows the lump in her throat and fights for words. “Oh, uhm… I don’t, uh…”
“Hey, it’s okay, alright? No explanation needed, sweetheart,” Dean says and lets her off the hook. “Just wanted to offer, you know?”
“Thanks, another time.” Y/N forces one last smile to her lips.
Dean hasn’t seen Y/N in a whole week. Well, that’s not entirely true. He sees her every day at training in the gym, rolling around with Jo in the ring. But he hasn’t seen her privately since their little naughty stint in his office.
By now, he’s sure she’s avoiding him for some reason, but he doesn’t have the guts nor the balls to ask her straight. He’s too afraid of her answer, scared she has changed her mind about them and their arrangement. He’d accept it, of course, but he still doesn’t want to find out if that’s the reason why she keeps her distance. It would most certainly break his heart.
A knock on his office door makes his head snap up with hope that it’s Y/N. Either she’s here for another booty call or to end it. He’s prepared for both. To his surprise, though, it’s Donna who’s stopping by for a visit.
“Dean? Can we talk?” the curvy blonde asks insecurely, concern etched into every crease of her face.
“Sure, uh, what’s up?” Dean knows Donna and Billie have given their all to train the girls over the last few weeks, and if production could afford it, he’d give them both a gigantic raise. Unfortunately, he can’t but hopes it’s the thought that still counts.
“It’s about Y/N and Jo,” she informs him, and his ears perk up at that.
He’s noticed some tension between those two as well, so he’s not as surprised as he should have been. But honestly, sometimes it’s hard to tell what those two are fighting about. If it’s something new or just the same old beef.
“Usually, they do a good job of keeping their weird friendship stuff out of the ring, but not in the last week. There’s something wrong with them,” Donna tells him.
No shit, Dean thinks. Those two having issues is not an entirely new thing.
“What d’you want me to do about it?” Dean asks. He knows Donna didn’t just stroll into his office to chat and gossip. She’s looking for direction. Like the rest of these women downstairs, the blonde expects him to solve their problems. In the end, that’s his job.
“Postpone the match,” Donna prompts, the worry deepening. “I don’t think they should fight. They’re not communicating properly. Someone’s gonna get hurt.”
Dean tries not laugh, but in reality, it’s just fucking funny. Do these women ever think things through? Y/N and Jo’s match is the main storyline, the two of them being the best fighters as well. If they’re not entering the ring, he might as well just throw in the towel now and quit. The show would never make it back on air.
“Donna, I can’t do that,” he tells her frustratedly and runs a palm over his face. “C’mon, don’t be so dramatic. It’s not like they’re gonna kill each other.”
“Dean–” Donna is about to interject when he stops her.
“Fine, all right? I’ll talk to her,” the director assures the blonde.
Donna’s brow shoots up. “Her?”
“Them. I’ll talk to them,” Dean corrects quickly and watches her leave his office, clearly dissatisfied with his solution.
Dean hates West Hollywood like a mouse hates a cat. He can’t believe he fucking agreed to this thing in the first place. And the only reason he did agree was his stupid daughter, who’s not even here tonight because she’d rather spend time with her boyfriend than with her dad.
Fucking teenagers…
Honestly, Dean’s got no clue why he still came here without Claire. Maybe because he’s old-school and actually keeps his commitments, or maybe it’s because he’s got nothing better to do since neither his kid nor his not-girlfriend want to spend time with him. So, it was either getting drunk at home alone like he always does or do this.
As Dean enters the dark theater, he notices not a lot of seats are taken. Surprise, surprise! No one cares about him or his movies…
There’s a group of teenagers in the front row, though, who seem to be way to young to watch one of his films. But who is he to judge? He’s not their fucking parent. God knows he’s got his hands full with one teenager already.
He’s about to take a seat somewhere in the back when his green eyes spy a familiar head of hair. His heart skips a beat when he recognizes his favorite actress. Out of all the places in all the world, he’d never thought he’d meet her here.
“Hey,” he says as soon as he’s made it to her row. Her head darts up, but she doesn’t seem too surprised to see him here, which makes this coincidence even weirder. He assumed she strolled by this theater by accident and saw one of his movies was showing, deciding to check it out, which just so happens to flatter him and stroke his ego perfectly fine. “What are you doing here?”
Dammit. That sounded way too aggressive. He’s honestly happy she’s here; he just hasn’t expected it. Call it a ‘pleasant surprise.’
“Oh, uh, Claire invited me,” Y/N explains and gulps nervously. “But I can leave if you don’t want me here.”
Damn that kid. Of course, she meddled in his affair. Does she know he likes Y/N? Is it that obvious? Well, either way, someone’s getting a bigger allowance this week. Doesn’t he have the best kid?
“No, uh, stay. Please,” he says and sends Y/N his best smile. “Can I sit with you?”
Her face lights up. “Sure.”
Dean sits down on a red velvet seat next to her and feels like a goddamn teenager on a first date. His knees are shaking as he anxiously taps his boots on the sticky movie floor and drums his palms repeatedly on his thighs. Something inside of him urges him to hold her hand and interlace their fingers, or do one of those moves where he yawns and slings his arm around her shoulders.
In fact, he can barely concentrate on the movie until he takes her hand in his. But who cares? He wrote and directed this masterpiece, so it’s not like he’s missing out on anything important. He already knows the plot and every single shot.
Once their fingers touch, his heartbeat accelerates to light speed. She shoots him a look and raises her brow with a teasing smirk. He can catch it from his periphery but doesn’t dare to look straight at her. Instead, he awkwardly clears his throat and glues his green eyes stubbornly to the silver screen, pretending it’s not a big deal.
When did holding hands become such a fucking thrill? He’s not goddamn sixteen anymore, for crying out loud.
Y/N takes note of his uncomfortableness and focuses back on the movie but still gives his hand a small squeeze, telling him everything is all right. They remain exactly like this till the end credits roll across the screen.
And then, to his greatest surprise, there are cheers and claps from everyone in the theater. Y/N lets go of his hand to clap as well and bites her lip to hide a smile once she sees him blush furiously at the attention and admiration.
The group of teenagers then approaches him and stops by his row as a young, scrawny boy speaks up, “You’re a genius, Mr. Winchester.”
Mister?! How old do they think he is? Well, granted, he probably shot that movie before those kids were even born. Talk about feeling old.
“Your disorientation factor is truly masterful,” the boy continues. “Claire told us we’d love it.”
His brow shoots up in surprise. “Claire? How do you know my kid?”
“Oh, we’re all in AV club together,” the boy replies and gestures to his peers before they filter out of the theater.
“Huh.” Dean is gobsmacked, truly. For one, he didn’t even know Claire was in AV club. And secondly, he’s goddamn proud of her. Who knew the kid would take after her old man?
“See?” Y/N pokes his arm with her elbow, a big grin adorning her face. “You have a whole fan club of teenagers who adore your movie that they are, for sure, too young to see.”
Dean chuckles softly and wishes he could hide his reddening cheeks from her.
“I liked your movie, too,” she says then and watches his reaction closely.
“Oh, c’mon,” Dean tries to brush her off. She’s probably just saying it to appeal to his ego. He knows she’s not the biggest fan of his work. “Really?”
“Yeah!” Y/N says enthusiastically. “Those kids were right. It was disorienting. You were doing your own thing.” But then she catches her mistake and corrects herself, “Are. Sorry! You still are doing–”
Dean, however, shakes his head at her correction. “Nope, you’re right,” he admits and scoffs. “That was me twenty years ago. My hands all over everything like the biggest control freak, driving everybody nuts. I mean, my operator actually became so frustrated with me that he quit the first day and threw his camera at me. I had to shoot the rest of it myself.”
“You shot that?” Y/N’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Wow.”
“Yeah, I did.” Dean sighs and pensively scratches his beard. Something’s been bothering him for a while now, and talking to Y/N usually helps him sort through his jumbled thoughts. After all, she’s his Alma. “You know, I’m accustomed to a certain level of failure. When a project usually goes wrong, I know exactly what happened. It’s just-… with our show… I have no idea what went wrong there. I don’t know why they shit-canned us. Not a fucking clue. None. It’s driving me insane.”
Y/N grows quiet next to him and fumbles with her fingers. She swallows deeply before she opens her mouth. “I have an idea. I know why,” she confesses.
The director’s brow furrows. As he looks at her, he recognizes her nervousness. It causes him to worry. “What d’you mean?”
“Richard Roman, the head of the network? He-, uhm, he invited me to dinner… at his hotel room,” Y/N begins, the uncomfortableness growing inside of her and expanding in her chest.
Dean, on the other hand, stays perfectly still and quiet. The calm before the storm, so to speak. Because as soon as she said those words, he could feel his heart stop and drop several feet into the depths of hell. There, he’s sure he’ll find some kind of weapon he can use to kill that motherfucker before he comes back topside. The director knows how that story ends before she has even finished it, and it makes him want to puke his guts out and burn this godforsaken city down.
“He came on to me. As in… he wanted to have sex with me,” Y/N continues and clarifies in case he didn’t catch on. She’s not entirely sure the director is getting the message since he hasn’t said a word yet. “But I left before anything could happen. Ran away, actually. Bolted right outta there.” Her little chuckle at the end is a futile attempt to lighten the mood.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Dean’s furious, his nostrils flaring. He wants to punch and kill someone, but most of all Dickhead Roman himself.
“No, I’m not,” Y/N replies meekly. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.”
Bewildered, he frowns. “Mad?” That’s when he notices that she suddenly seems scared. Is she frightened… of him?!
“Maybe I can still fix it. Just call him and ask him if I can come by his office,” Y/N suggests, her voice laced with desperation. But not the good kind that usually turns him on. This time it’s just plain sad.
“To do what exactly?” Dean prompts grimly, already knowing her intentions. Over his dead body is she doing that!
“Well–”
“Fuck no!” Dean doesn’t even allow her to finish her sentence. In fact, he doesn’t want to hear it at all, or he might have to scratch his ears out afterward. God, he doesn’t even want to think about it. “You’re not fucking doing anything, alright?”
“But–”
“That stupid fucking son of a bitch,” Dean huffs and shakes his head. “What a goddamn prick!”
“So you’re not mad?” Y/N checks insecurely.
For a moment, Dean stops his rage to look at her, his heart almost breaking as he does. She deserves so much better in this life than all the shit she’s getting. How the fuck is any of this fair?
“At Dick cocksucking Roman, yeah. But not at you. Never at you, okay?” he emphasizes and sees her nod in relief. His heart shatters anew. How could she even think for a second he’d hold some sleazebag’s actions against her? But then his suspicions grow as he puzzles the pieces together. “When the fuck did this happen?”
“Uh, a little over a week ago,” Y/N answers quietly. “The night before they moved us to the nighttime slot.”
“That’s when you came to my office, and we–” Dean doesn’t finish his train of thought and cards a hand through his messy hair. Now, it makes sense. Her strange behavior, the inexplicable need for punishment, and everything in between.
‘You’re the best guy I know,’ he remembers her words. ‘I can’t think of anyone I’d want this with more.’
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Was that why you were avoiding me?”
A part of him feels unbelievably relieved. It’s not him but literally someone else’s fault. For once, he’s done nothing wrong. For once, he hasn’t ruined everything. But another part of him, the bigger one, just wants to rip Dickbag Roman’s throat out with his goddamn teeth. What a pathetic fucking loser…
Dean wishes he could beat the guy black and blue and leave him bleeding on the highway till a truck runs over him. He wishes he could cut off that guy’s dick and put it through a meat grinder. His mind can’t stop imagining the most gruesome ways to make that asshat suffer and die. In fact, he wishes Manson was still roaming Spawn Ranch and would send his Family over to that Roman’s mansion and leave Sharon Tate the fuck alone.
“I’m sorry. I guess I was scared you’d react like Jo.” Y/N gulps and averts her eyes to her trembling hands in her lap.
His brow knits, Donna’s warning words echoing through his mind. “Jo knows? What did she say?” But before Y/N can answer him, the director stops her again. “No, wait… I can take a fucking guess,” he mutters bitterly. The blonde bimbo probably told her to blow the guy in his goddamn office. Typical…
“Well, she’s not entirely wrong, you know,” Y/N mumbles and bites down on her lip without looking at him.
“What d’you mean?”
“All I’m good for is a fuck,” she says with a wry smile and wipes away a small tear. Dean’s heart twinges and hurts for her, but that pain is nothing compared to the cool blade of a knife he feels soon instead. “I mean, you of all people know that…”
Dean’s quiet for a moment and bites his nails as he ponders. His mind is a maze, and he knows he has to pick and choose his words carefully in order to get out of it.
“No, I actually don’t know that,” he states and catches her attention.
He tries his best not to sound angry or offended, even though he is a little. Hasn’t he been building her confidence for weeks now? Hasn’t he been instilling in her that she’s his favorite – and not just among the cast but on this planet in general? He figured she knew how much she truly means to him, but maybe he hasn’t been clear enough yet. He knows Y/N’s self-worth issues could fill every damn swimming pool in California, so maybe he shouldn’t expect a miracle so soon.
Mostly, he’s angry at Dicksuck Roman and Barbie for ruining all his hard work with one asshole move and a few bitchy words.
Dean wets his lips and lets out a sharp exhale through his nose before he looks at her. ���Y/N, you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met in my entire life. You’re never just a quickie in the office to me. Do you understand that?”
She nods in slow reluctance. “I think so.”
“Good,” he says sternly. “Now believe it ‘cause it’s true.”
The green-eyed director cups her cheeks and pulls her to his lips, tongue meeting tongue in a searing kiss. The old seats creak when their weight shifts, Y/N leaning into his touch as she wrings for oxygen with heavy breaths. And where words fail, he tries his best to show her how he feels through his actions.
“Sorry,” Dean apologizes cheekily once he lets her get some air. “Couldn’t hold myself back any longer. That’s okay, right? We’re still on?”
Suddenly, it dawns on him that she might’ve still changed her mind about him. Has he just sexually harassed a woman right after she told him how she’s been sexually harassed by a superior? Jesus fucking Christ, he’s goddamn tone deaf, isn’t he?
To his luck, though, Y/N finds his stupidity amusing and giggles, placing another sweet kiss on his plump lips as she shakes her head. “We’re still on, boss,” she assures him and hears him heave a big sigh of relief.
“Awesome.” He grins from ear to ear and brushes a strand of rogue hair out of her face. “Are you and Jo okay? ‘Cause if you’re not, you gotta tell me. You wanna postpone the match?”
Now that Dean knows there’s no chance in hell the network’s going to let the show survive, he doesn’t even give a shit if the girls resort to doing the chicken dance in the ring or taking a dump on stage. No one truly gives a fuck anymore, least of all him. He never has.
The only thing he cares about is sitting right next to him.
Y/N, however, vehemently shakes her head. “No, we’re fine. I wanna fight. ‘Sides, I’m supposed to win this match, and I can’t wait to kick Jo’s bitchy ass.” She grins broadly.
“That’s my bad girl.” Dean smirks and pecks her lips. “You’re gonna stay over at my place tonight? Play a little Cold War in my bedroom?”
“Only if I can do my accent,” Y/N says, beaming.
The director playfully rolls his green eyes, even though he’s direly been waiting for that sort of role play. “Oh, you’ve got yourself a deal, Natasha.”
22. Girls, Girls, Girls
Hope you enjoyed this one! We came back with a literal bang 😂
Next up we deal with more drama and a hospital stay 👀
Don't forget I re-did the tag lists after the break, so pick your new place (everything, specific character, or series) and put your username in there ❤️
TAGS:
Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28 @mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33
Old Series Tags (only for this part): @jessjad @mrsjenniferwinchester @smellingofpoetry @justrealizedimmascifygurl @leigh70 @4getfulimaginator2022 @yeahmynameiscool06 @luci-wiggles @darkened-writer @mimaria420 @samanddeansannoyingsis @sarasolros
#plastic hearts#dean winchester#director!dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester x female reader#actress!reader#dean winchester au#dean winchester smut#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fanfic#director!dean winchester x actress!reader#glow au#supernatural au#supernatural fanfic#supernatural
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Chapter Two
[warnings from the first chapter still apply; reform school setting, authority figures abusing their power, non-corporal punishment]
. + . + . + . + . + . + .
Ali hated this fucking school. It hadn’t even been two weeks, and he was already about ready to climb the damn walls of this freaky place. He hated everything about the reform school; the teachers, the staff, the inedible lunches, the random ass cold spots all over the building, and the constant detention— sorry, remedial study— were only a few of the many things he despised.
The only thing that made the horrible teachers and dehumanizing punishments (almost) worth it was the new friends he had made. It felt like he was naturally drawn to them, and he looked forward to seeing them at lunch and after class every day. Ben with his silent yet rebellious demeanor; Patty with his bright (if rare) smiles that could light up a room; and Foley with his jokes and awesome hugs. They made his life a bit brighter, and he was thankful for them.
As soon as the bell to his last class rang and the teacher dismissed them, Ali ran out of his seat like a rocket whose fuse had just been ignited. He made his way to the courtyard, where Patty and Ben were standing underneath a large tree. Patty’s face brightened when he saw Ali, but the smile faded as a passing teacher glared at him.
“How long have you guys been waiting?” Ali asked. He decided against hugging them, just in case that teacher decided to stick them in remedial study.
“Our class only ended five minutes ago, so not very long,” Ben answered. “Are we ready to go or what?”
“I’ve been ready since this morning.” Ben’s lips tugged upwards a bit into a small smile, and Ali couldn’t help but smile back.
“What about you, Patty?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be. I hope you guys know, though, that if we get in trouble I will never forgive you.”
“Hey, it’s not like we’re banned from walking around the school. We’re just… not going to be supervised this time. We’ll be fine, honest.”
Patty rolled his eyes but motioned with his hands for them to continue anyway. Ali checked around the courtyard, making sure there were no teachers or staff in sight, before slinking away. Ben and Patty turned to follow him as he left the courtyard. There was a side door across the yard from the main entrance, and Ali had yet to see anybody come or go through that door in the week and a half of his confinement.
This was the one escape that Ali got from the stifling aura of the classrooms or the chilly atmosphere of the dormitories. Little by little, he had been exploring the mansion-like school. It gave him something to do besides sit around in his dorm room all day. Patty and Ben joined him sometimes (Foley declined whenever they asked), and it was great fun to see what they could discover and how many hidden places they could fit into. Several parts of the school, like the entire west wing, had been abandoned due to some unfortunate accident or a health code violation, and these places had fallen into disrepair and decay. These were Ali’s favorite parts to explore, even if things did get a little spooky sometimes. Ali often felt invisible eyes following him as he explored, and he would see something flicker in the corner of his vision but turn around to find empty space. Patty had reported the same feelings, but Ben said he’d never felt anything of the sort. Ali didn’t know if he was lying in order to try and appear cool and collected in front of his friends, or if he genuinely didn’t think anything was wrong.
“Why don’t we ever invite Awsten or Otto along on these, uh... these, uh, excursions?” Ben asked. His voice barely rose above a whisper as they slipped through the door and into an unlit hallway. Ali pulled out his cell phone, which they weren’t technically allowed to have on them, and turned on the flashlight so that they could continue on in the darkness.
“Because they’d get us caught. Besides, they’re in detention anyway.”
“Where were you keeping your phone?” Patty asked.
“I keep it in my interior jacket pocket. Nobody ever looks there.”
Patty’s mouth formed a small ‘O’ shape. Nothing else was said as the three of them crept down the hallway. This hallway much resembled the main hallway of the school building, except there were fewer doors and it had obviously been abandoned for years, if not decades. The trio kept walking, passing doorway after doorway until the hallway abruptly turned to the right. After they rounded the turn, the three students came face-to-face with a doorway. There were no other doors down this section of hallway, and the single door was slightly ajar.
Something about this place made the hair on the back of Ali’s neck stand up. A faint but still nerve-wracking feeling settled deep in his stomach, and one glance at Patty told him that his friend felt the same thing. There was something malevolent in that room, and while he didn’t know how he knew that, Ali didn’t want to stick around to find out what that “something” was.
“Come on, let’s go back. I don’t like it here,” Ali said, which was the first time anything even remotely close had come out of his mouth.
“Yeah, I don’t like it either. It feels... evil,” said Patty. The two of them started to turn back around, but Ben quickly reached out and grabbed their arms to stop them.
“What, are you guys backing out now? I don’t feel anything; we’re going in, and that’s final.”
“Who made you the leader?”
“I did. Now let’s go.” Ben let go of Patty and Ali and dutifully marched forward. Before Patty or Ali could stop him he threw the door wide open, disturbing several cobwebs and lots of dust as he did. A blast of cold air swept over them, and Ali found himself shivering and rubbing his arms through his jacket sleeves to keep warm.
“Isn’t it fucking August? Why is it so cold?” Ben didn’t seem the least bit worried about the evil that Ali could feel trickling down his spine. Reluctantly, Ali followed his friend through the doorway, and he could hear Patty’s soft footsteps behind him. As soon as they crossed through the doorway the temperature instantly dropped, leaving the boys freezing cold with no source of warmth. The cold had flushed away any remaining curiosity Ali had had about the room, and now all he wanted was to get as far away as possible.
Ben had stopped in the middle of a circular room, with only the one door leading in and out of the room. There were several portraits hanging from the wall, many of which were covered in dust and cobwebs and had translucent black veils laid over them. There was one, however, of the current headmaster, and several portraits had remained uncovered by veils, which probably meant that whoever was portrayed in the paintings were still alive. The paintings seemed to follow Ali with their eyes, watching his every move as he slowly made his way over to where Ben was standing. There were dead things all over the floor, ranging from rats to simple weeds and flowers that had grown through the concrete. Ali had to pick his way over the mass destruction on the floor. There was something lurking in the shadows— or, more accurately, the shadows themselves seemed to be moving, and several times a hand-like mirage tried to reach out and grab at Ali.
The scariest thing about it, though, were the several upside-down crucifixes on the wall.
“This place isn’t so bad,” Ben said. He was being too loud; he was going to either get the three of them caught, or he was going to disturb whatever evil creature lived in the room.
“Nope, fuck this. I’m-” Patty began to say ‘out’, but he cut himself off with a scream as he toppled to the floor.
“Patty!” In an instant Ben was by his side, grabbing onto his arms and trying to help him stand again. For the first few moments, Patty wouldn’t (or maybe couldn’t) get off of the floor, but eventually, the shadows that had wrapped themselves around his ankle dissipated and he was able to stand once more. As soon as his feet had touched the ground he was grabbing Ben’s hand and running for dear life out of the room, with Ali hot on their heels. Ali turned and slammed the door shut with as much force as he could muster, and he only let out the breath he had been holding when he heard the lock click into place.
“We are never coming back here,” Patty said. He was still clinging to Ben, who looked more confused than anything.
“Guys, it was just a normal room. What’s so bad about it?” he asked.
“I can tell you that, young man.” Ali instantly froze as he recognized the voice. Slowly he turned around, only to find Ms. Sharpe, one of the school’s vice principals, standing behind the trio of boys. “It’s off limits to students.”
The evil thing that Ali had sensed in the room had returned, but this time in the form of a short and rather pudgy old spinster lady. The smile on her face told the young freshman that they weren’t getting off the hook without some serious punishment in their future.
Patty was glaring at Ali out of the corner of his eyes. He wasn’t going to be let off the hook by Patty, either, and somehow he felt worse about that than the prospect of remedial study.
At least whatever was inside that room hadn’t followed them out.
Hopefully.
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DISPATCH, 03/30/17: BKB Entertainment has officially released information about leader and main vocalist, Park Aejeong, also known as Aej, on silverBEAT’s official website! Aej is an ‘89 liner and has been beloved by fans since her debut in 2010. Find out more about Aej below!
I, Park Aejeong, have read and understand the terms and conditions as my position of silverBEAT leader and agree to honor the standards that are to be expected of me as an employee of BKB Entertainment.
OOC INFORMATION
Preferred name: Trice
Pronouns: She/her
Timezone: PST
IC INFORMATION
Faceclaim: Park Kyungri
Name: Park Aejeong
Stage name (if applicable): Aej, pronounced “Edge” ; her unofficial stagename by fans (and her nickname within the group) is “AJ”
Idol concept: Her concept originally started out as cute (which she hated immensely), but as silverBEAT’s concept started to evolve, so did hers; BKB began to market her as a confident, proactive go-getter, passionate and fiery, who would do anything for her group. While this last part is true, the rest is not; Aejeong, while protective of her group members, is calm, levelheaded, gentle, and above all, tired; she hates the slave contract BKB has tricked the group into, and is one of the members who intends to sue upon release (and also talked some of the re-Fuse trainees out of debuting with the group).
Birth date and age: December 3, 1989 (age 27)
Company name: BKB Entertainment
Group Name (if applicable): silverBEAT
Group Position (if applicable): Leader and main vocalist
Strengths: Aej is known for her power vocals. She can belt out a note at seemingly any range and hold it for ages. She sings just as well live as she does on recording, and can move from note to note with a grace and ease that few possess. It is because of this that she has begun a solo career, and despite rumors surrounding her, she still garners respect as a vocalist. Her dancing skills are well-developed, and she never misses a step.Additionally, her skills as a leader are rather refined; she puts her group ahead of herself, taking extra work where necessary in cleaning the practice rooms, cooking dinners and breakfasts, and putting herself in the line of fire to negotiate extra free time with their manager, all so that the others can get a few extra minutes of sleep.
Weaknesses: While Aej isn’t a “bad” dancer per se (in fact, she took ballet as a child and can dance en pointe; she had wanted to be the main dancer pre-debut), she’s rather unenergetic due to the jadedness that surrounds her and her career. She tries her best to put on good shows, but it’s difficult for her to hide how angry she is that she’s locked into BKB for another three years without her consent. Additionally, her variety show skills are lacking, as her blunt, deadpan honesty and scathing, subtly-concealed jabs at BKB’s CEO tend to cause a few awkward laughs while hosts and fans try to decipher if she’s serious or not (only her group members would know that she is, indeed, very serious). This has earned her the reputation of “Ice Queen” and is the cause of most of her attitude scandals; despite the fact that she respects everyone in the company except her dishonest CEO, most netizens consider her a diva. She is mostly indifferent to these scandals.
Positive traits: Gentle, nurturing, playful, patient
Negative traits: Proud, critical, bitter, jaded
PERSONAL HISTORY
.01—- her earliest memories are the ones of her mother, her sister, and the star shining its light outside the window. that star holds a special place in her heart, brightening and dimming with a fluid grace to be admired. she doesn’t let her mother draw the curtains, and it paints itself beneath her eyelids when she sleeps. she still remembers it when she twirls alone across her practice room’s wooden floors in the dead of night, humming the melody to whatever song dances through her mind.
.02—- her mother is a flighty, whimsical woman who tears up when she talks about aejeong’s father (“the other woman made much more sense than i did, i suppose”) and her sister was an infant when aejeong was four. aejeong protects her fervently and learns to cook and clean to care for her better when their mother is away. they are as close as family can get. their dark hair tangles together when the sounds of their laughter at a moonlit sofa in their seoul-stationed café, and they listen to music that is just as eccentric as their matriarch. that music, too, nests itself in the warm space of aejeong’s memory, and the star from years ago begins to glow to its tune.
.03—- they enroll aejeong in the ballet studio that opens down the street when she is six, and she takes to it like a bird in flight; her toes spin her around and around like the earth around the sun.
.04—- aejeong grows disciplined with her form and observant with watching the technique of the older ballerinas. she is shy among the reflections of stocking-clad legs, and more awkward than the other students. it takes her far longer to learn the dances than the rest of them. if she is a star, then she is dim.
.05—- yet when she does learn, she moves with the fluidity of a petal in the wind. she works to land each step precisely. eventually, her late hours dancing catch her up to the rest and propel her ahead. she is en pointe by the time she is twelve. she, too, can now dance along to the starlight.
.06— dance makes her quiet, her mother jokes sometimes. now she’s always watching the customers come and go from the café and what they leave on their plate or at the bottom of their mugs. aejeong can remember the orders for the customers even when they don’t visit in a month, and they praise her on bringing their coffees so efficiently. she observes the arch of their feet and picks out the flaws in the way their knees bend, even though their form of dance is flitting in and out their door. it’s quite distasteful, and oftentimes she wishes she was surrounded by other stars rather than being the only one.
.07—- bkb entertainment is holding auditions. she is thirteen and has had enough of being the only star in sight (occasionally she reprimands herself for this arrogant train of thought). she dances to the song to which she’s practiced for months before the audition and doesn’t miss a beat, her body in tune from her head to her heels. then,
.08—- ‘can you sing?’
.09—- and a heavenly sound comes out of her mouth, one that sounds like a siren song and it hits her with mild surprise (besides impromptu karaoke nights with her mother and sister, she hasn’t sung a day in her life) and just a little bit of dread; she is supposed to become a main dancer. she will not be the main vocalist for any group, she will not be the main vocalist for any group, she will not be the main vocalist for any group—
.10—- ‘congratulations. we believe you will be the perfect main vocalist for a future group.’
.11—- she just about dies right then and there, but beggars can’t be choosers; maybe they’ll realize that she’s not worth being a vocalist. but much to her chagrin, the longer she trains, the better she becomes at singing, and the farther she gets from her goal of main dancer. she doesn’t have it in her to fail on purpose, so she gets closer to the position of main vocalist. and yet she hopes.
.12—- and fate, of course, has it out for her. it’s announced when she is eighteen that she will be the leader of a brand new group, silverBEAT . . . and the main vocalist. she secretly prays that the group will fail, and she will have another chance at the position of main dancer in a different one.
.13—- as expected, she is evaluative of the prospective members when they first meet. she can see the flaws in their trades as well as she can see the flaws in her own. but she also sees the beauty behind the little things the other members do, and with a satisfied smile, she decides that this group will be perfect for now.
.14—- it is far easier to be comfortable around them once she gets to know them. she can joke and laugh and play in their presence as if she has known them for years, and she takes the skills she learned from caring for her sister and applies it to them. despite this, she feels guilty as her prayer is not granted; not only does silverBEAT not disband, but they become the most popular group in the industry. a dancer position is even farther from her than she could possibly imagine; who would dream to let her change positions so far into her career?
.15—- but her group is enough. she may hate their cute concept with a passion. yet even when she grimaces from the far back positions in their performance formations, she passes the flashes of teeth off as smiles. she cares for her group and thanks the star through her window that they did not disband as she had hoped. but still, she has heard things about other companies like mirage; of course a visually-oriented company like them will appreciate dancing skills like hers. she is not an idiot. she knows that bkb is treating her unfairly, and plans to switch out as soon as their contract ends.
.16—- then 2014 rolls around, and her beloved ninth member and fellow vocalist applies for a contract termination. aejeong tries to hide her disappointment; she’d hoped, at least, that she would stick around till the end of the contract three years down the road. but she holds her tongue; she understands why one might want to leave early, what with how dangerous bkb is. this, unfortunately, manifests in aejeong ignoring her soon-to-be ex-member, and aejeong is heartbroken to learn, after the girl’s official exit from the group, that too many believe aejeong hated her and kicked her out.
.17—- she doesn’t mind. no, that’s a lie: she does. it hurts to think that she could hate any group member, not when she watches them make their acting or modeling debuts, or when she buys her ex-member’s brand new solo debut on her phone and listens to it every night when she makes dinner. perhaps she was critical of them at first, perhaps she wanted nothing to do with them at first, but that doesn’t matter; they are now her little sisters, the ones she’d protect with everything she is. she soon finds that that even means protecting them from their company.
.18—- because it is now 2017, and bkb springs them with a revelation of fine text that had apparently been in their contract since 2014. (numbly, aejeong wonders if she should have left with their ninth member.) she could collapse with pain, but she can’t stand to cry in front of them; she is already a failure of a leader, a fake main vocalist, a disappointment who couldn’t protect her group from three extra years of long nights and health-threatening schedules. she goes home and weeps with her sister and mother, curses their ceo. silverbeat’s concept has long since changed from their hated cute one, but despite this, aejeong can’t find it in her to keep her energy. when they coerce her into a solo debut, she doesn’t flinch, completely numb to the dishonesty that is this company. she no longer cares about performances— all her time and resources will go into keeping her group guarded from the hell that is three more years (just three more years, three more years). even if she can’t join mirage afterward, even if bkb killed her passion for dance long ago, park aejeong holds out hope for the comfort that her seven little sisters will continue their careers as unscathed as she can keep them.
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Tokyo Mirage Sessions #FE: Fusion Accident?
During January of 2013, Nintendo showed off a variety of titles for the Wii U in a Direct, with a great many of them being in early development. One title raised quite a few eyebrows, collaboration between Atlus and Nintendo, a merger of the Shin Megami Tensei franchise and the Fire Emblem franchise. The game itself had just started development and it would be years before something more concrete about the game would be shown. While teased as a straightforward crossover title, upon being unveiled as Tokyo Mirage Sessions #FE, it was clear this was a game no one could have seen coming. Starring idols that fought alongside Fire Emblem characters in a battle system similar to the SMT games, Tokyo Mirage Sessions managed to alienate two fanbases at once and ultimately the game ended up bombing. But years pass and with the Nintendo Switch hitting it off well, many clamor for a Switch port of the game. With that in mind, I think it’s worth going back and looking at the game, judging it on its own merits. Are these two tastes that go good together, or is it more like toothpaste and orange juice?!
The game’s premise is incredibly, gleefully absurd: strange beings from another world, Mirages, prey on the people of Tokyo, seeking out their Performa, their creative energy and talent. People with great talent can harness their own Performa to become Mirage Masters, partnering with benevolent Mirages to keep the people of Tokyo safe while they hone their own craft. The game follows the exploits of Fortuna Entertainment as they fight off Mirages, grow as performers and try to unravel the reason behind a mass disappearance of performers five years prior to the story’s start. The game’s overall tone is…quirky, and at times the writing feels right out of a Sailor Moon knockoff from the nineties. To that end, it’s fairly harmless but not exactly engaging. The bulk of the game’s story is told at the very beginning and the very end, with a very uneventful, repetitive middle. More time is spent on the various idols, actors and models of Fortuna fending off random Mirage attacks than advancing the overall plot until about the last third of the game, and as a result I found it very hard to get invested.
Things were bad when one of the core driving forces for Tsubasa Oribe, the game’s main heroine, was solved in the first chapter. She wanted to find her sister, who was a victim of the mass disappearances five years prior to the story, and after she’s found, her whole character arc is just “to be the best idol I can be!” Speaking personally, I don’t find that engrossing enough to justify a lengthy RPG. It doesn’t help that most of the other characters are rather bland, tired archetypes that can be boiled down to two main traits. Kiria is the aloof tomboy who secretly loves cute things, Barry is an otaku who loves little girls (but not in that way we swear!), and did you know that Eleonora is biracial and loves Hollywood? Well, don’t worry, because every time she speaks one of those two subjects comes up!
To be fair, I don’t outright dislike most of the cast (except for Barry), and each main character gets a series of side stories about them that does flesh them out slightly and features a little growth, but it’s not nearly enough to make them feel like well-realized characters. Yashiro is a good example of this; one side story establishes he’s so used to having assistants do everything for him, he doesn’t know how to eat by himself. Rather than treat this like a serious issue, the side story frames it as him needing to eat so he can make his acting more believable. Entertainment work is all these characters have to define their personalities and we don’t get to see much of their personal lives at all. Itsuki and Tsubasa are noted to still be in high school, but outside of a quick shot of them in the animated opening of the game, there’s not a single scene at school. I realize I’m ragging on the story and characters a lot, but that’s a huge part of any RPG and considering the pedigree here, with the Persona and Fire Emblem franchises known for making well-loved characters…it’s hard to not feel disappointed.
You might be wondering where the whole Fire Emblem influence fits into all this. Mirages are sometimes monsters…and sometimes they’re characters from the Fire Emblem series, with serious redesigns that make them virtually unrecognizable. Overall, it’s a plot point that feels pretty half-baked and tacked on, though there are plenty of nods to the series in the game. To be fair, the gameplay side of the equation features a lot more influence from both series, resulting in a better fusion of ideas.
At its core, Tokyo Mirage Sessions is like any other Atlus RPG. You travel around small hub areas, then enter rather plain dungeons and fight monsters in turn-based battles, trying to find their weaknesses and exploiting them as often as possible. Things change with the introduction of Session Skills though. In the normal SMT games, hitting an enemy’s weakness grants you an extra turn, while in Persona this sets up you for an All Out Attack. In TMS, however, hitting a weakness can trigger a Session Skill, where your other party members jump into the fight and strike a blow of their own. So if Itsuki uses a lightning spell on a monster weak to it, Tsubasa jumps in with a lance attack, as an example. The Session chains start out fairly small, but as you progress through the game, sessions grow longer and more damaging, to the point where one character’s turn can lead to attacks in the double digits. If there’s one thing this game does right, it’s a constant sense of progression; you’re always learning new skills, creating new Session chains and gaining new party members. There are a number of moves characters can learn that tie into their side stories and character growth too, like Ad-lib Performances (randomly turning a normal attack into a powerful cinematic attack that always triggers Sessions) and Duo Arts (two characters team up for a super move that resets the Session chain).
The Fire Emblem attack triangle and various other unit weaknesses seamlessly integrate into the SMT battle system. Fighting a flying enemy? Nail it with arrows or wind magic. An enemy has an axe? Use a sword move on them. And so on. Knowledge of Fire Emblem really helps out here, as otherwise this game has the same “challenge” of having to guess to see what element or attack type a given enemy is weak to during their first encounter. It can feel pretty satisfying to get off long chains on enemies, whittling them down to nothing, and you’re given plenty of tools to work with, but that does lead into another problem…
Rather than fuse demons or Personas together to get new skills (or party members), in TMS, you gain drops from enemies that can be turned into weapons that the party members and their Mirages wield. The weapons have a separate level up from the party, and impart new skills until they reach their cap, whereupon you’re encouraged to form a new weapon as soon as possible. Players interact with the Fire Emblem character Tiki, reimagined in this game as a virtual idol comparable to the likes of Hatsune Miku, to forge new weapons, or unlock new passive skills. This is a fine system and all, if a little lengthy with elaborate animations each time you do it (which can be skipped), but the problem is that it’s too frequent. You level weapons up ridiculously fast, and gain new drops to make new weapons just as fast. This doesn’t seem like a problem except that it requires you to repeatedly leave any given dungeon to go talk to Tiki. You can take all of ten steps into a dungeon, get in a few fights and suddenly the game wants you to leave to get new weapons and skills. And it’s certainly possible to just hold off on it, but you’re missing out on worthwhile new skills and attack boots; it’s just more efficient to constantly return to your headquarters. The dungeons, to be fair, are designed with this in mind, with warp panels you can unlock that cut down on backtracking a lot, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re constantly starting and stopping, slowing progression down to a crawl.
This really is a result of this game being quite padded. Overly elaborate animations for everything, dungeons that throw enemy encounters at you nonstop, time-consuming hazards and gimmicks in each dungeon…and the constant backtracking to Tiki. A good chunk of my time with the game was really spent just combing through menus for weapons and skills, as well as lots of loading screens, or just watching the same animations again and again. While it’s nice to see a 14 hit Session chain, when you KEEP seeing those same moves again and again and again, it gets old. I feel like some streamlining could have gone a long way towards fixing these complaints, like an option to warp directly to the Bloom Palace where Tiki resides, rather than to Fortuna’s offices, followed by a loading screen to see Tiki. Or better yet, make more use out of the Game Pad by letting us manage new weapons and skills while on the go in dungeons. As it stands, the Game Pad is used to display a rather basic map of any given area, and showcase posts made in Topic, an in-game social media app every main character uses. Considering Tiki’s a virtual idol and she even made an app that lets you know when new weapons and skills are ready, it doesn’t seem like much a stretch to me that at some point in the game, you could have gotten an app that let you make new weapons on the spot…but alas, that’s not how the game works.
In the end, really, Tokyo Mirage Sessions is a game that has a fair bit of charm, but a number of odd design decisions that kept me from getting as engaged as I would have hoped. I actually dropped the game multiple times over the course of about two years before I finally beat it, because of how bored I got. The characters are dull, the story doesn’t really exist until the last ten hours or so, and the combat takes a while to really open up, and even then, it can be kind of repetitive. But having said that, there’s still a lot to like here. The music is pretty on-point, considering idols are a big component of the game. There are at times animated music videos for various characters that clearly had a lot of work put into them. The game’s overall aesthetic is colorful, filled with bright neon greens and pinks, with nice touches here and there on the UI and in-battle animations. Like how Mamori is so small, she needs to use herself as a counterweight to swing her huge axe, or how characters sign their names when doing spells, like doing an autograph. The overall premise, that performers can harness their creative energy and bring to life manifestations of their craft, is cool too. That really comes out when you see some of the Duo Arts or Ad-libs. Tsubasa summons a massive tidal wave to reenact a soda commercial she did, or Touma becomes the tokusatsu super hero he plays on TV for real, complete with theme song blaring in the background! It’s cool stuff, but it only goes so far.
Tokyo Mirage Sessions #FE isn’t really a bad game, though it does have a fair number of issues. The game really had to fight an uphill battle after its official unveiling, as years had passed with people speculating how a crossover of two very different franchises would work. I think it’s safe to say that idols using the power of music to beat back monstrous versions of Fire Emblem bosses weren’t what anyone was thinking. Combine that with some drama during the game’s localization, and you had a game that ended up being dead on arrival. Had the game been announced differently, maybe it would have been better received. There’d still be some issues with the game on the whole, though, and when I see people calling this one of the best games on the Wii U I have to raise an eyebrow a bit. It’s not without its charms, to be sure, but TMS to me was a lot of flash, with too little substance to justify a lot of the busywork found within. It’s still a solid premise I’d love to see Atlus or Nintendo try again someday though.
Until next time,
-B
#xb-squaredx#blog#review#tokyo mirage session#shin megami tensei#fire emblem#nintendo#atlus#intelligent systems#JRPG#Wii U
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DISPATCH, 06/24/17: BKB Entertainment has officially released information about leader and main vocalist, Park Aejeong, also known as Aej, on silverBEAT’s official website! Aej is an ‘89 liner and has been beloved by fans since her debut in 2010. Find out more about Aej below!
I, Park Aejeong, have read and understand the terms and conditions as my position of silverBEAT leader and agree to honor the standards that are to be expected of me as an employee of BKB Entertainment.
OOC INFORMATION
Preferred name: Trice
Pronouns: She/her
Timezone: PST
IC INFORMATION
Faceclaim: Park Kyungri
Name: Park Aejeong
Stage name (if applicable): Aej, pronounced “Edge” ; her unofficial stagename by fans (and her nickname within the group) is “AJ”
Idol concept: Her concept originally started out as cute (which she hated immensely), but as silverBEAT’s concept started to evolve, so did hers; BKB began to market her as a confident, proactive go-getter, passionate and fiery, who would do anything for her group. While this last part is true, the rest is not; Aejeong, while protective of her group members, is calm, levelheaded, gentle, and above all, tired; she hates the slave contract BKB has tricked the group into, and is one of the members who intends to sue upon release (and also talked some of the re-Fuse trainees out of debuting with the group).
Birth date and age: December 3, 1989 (age 27)
Company name: BKB Entertainment
Group Name (if applicable): silverBEAT
Group Position (if applicable): Leader and main vocalist
Strengths: Aej is known for her power vocals. She can belt out a note at seemingly any range and hold it for ages. She sings just as well live as she does on recording, and can move from note to note with a grace and ease that few possess. It is because of this that she has begun a solo career, and despite rumors surrounding her, she still garners respect as a vocalist. Her dancing skills are well-developed, and she never misses a step.Additionally, her skills as a leader are rather refined; she puts her group ahead of herself, taking extra work where necessary in cleaning the practice rooms, cooking dinners and breakfasts, and putting herself in the line of fire to negotiate extra free time with their manager, all so that the others can get a few extra minutes of sleep.
Weaknesses: While Aej isn’t a “bad” dancer per se (in fact, she took ballet as a child and can dance en pointe; she had wanted to be the main dancer pre-debut), she’s rather unenergetic due to the jadedness that surrounds her and her career. She tries her best to put on good shows, but it’s difficult for her to hide how angry she is that she’s locked into BKB for another three years without her consent. Additionally, her variety show skills are lacking, as her blunt, deadpan honesty and scathing, subtly-concealed jabs at BKB’s CEO tend to cause a few awkward laughs while hosts and fans try to decipher if she’s serious or not (only her group members would know that she is, indeed, very serious). This has earned her the reputation of “Ice Queen” and is the cause of most of her attitude scandals; despite the fact that she respects everyone in the company except her dishonest CEO, most netizens consider her a diva. She is mostly indifferent to these scandals.
Positive traits: Gentle, nurturing, playful, patient
Negative traits: Proud, critical, bitter, jaded
PERSONAL HISTORY
.01—- her earliest memories are the ones of her mother, her sister, and the star shining its light outside the window. that star holds a special place in her heart, brightening and dimming with a fluid grace to be admired. she doesn’t let her mother draw the curtains, and it paints itself beneath her eyelids when she sleeps. she still remembers it when she twirls alone across her practice room’s wooden floors in the dead of night, humming the melody to whatever song dances through her mind.
.02—- her mother is a flighty, whimsical woman who tears up when she talks about aejeong’s father (“the other woman made much more sense than i did, i suppose”) and her sister was an infant when aejeong was four. aejeong protects her fervently and learns to cook and clean to care for her better when their mother is away. they are as close as family can get. their dark hair tangles together when the sounds of their laughter at a moonlit sofa in their seoul-stationed café, and they listen to music that is just as eccentric as their matriarch. that music, too, nests itself in the warm space of aejeong’s memory, and the star from years ago begins to glow to its tune.
.03—- they enroll aejeong in the ballet studio that opens down the street when she is six, and she takes to it like a bird in flight; her toes spin her around and around like the earth around the sun.
.04—- aejeong grows disciplined with her form and observant with watching the technique of the older ballerinas. she is shy among the reflections of stocking-clad legs, and more awkward than the other students. it takes her far longer to learn the dances than the rest of them. if she is a star, then she is dim.
.05—- yet when she does learn, she moves with the fluidity of a petal in the wind. she works to land each step precisely. eventually, her late hours dancing catch her up to the rest and propel her ahead. she is en pointe by the time she is twelve. she, too, can now dance along to the starlight.
.06— dance makes her quiet, her mother jokes sometimes. now she’s always watching the customers come and go from the café and what they leave on their plate or at the bottom of their mugs. aejeong can remember the orders for the customers even when they don’t visit in a month, and they praise her on bringing their coffees so efficiently. she observes the arch of their feet and picks out the flaws in the way their knees bend, even though their form of dance is flitting in and out their door. it’s quite distasteful, and oftentimes she wishes she was surrounded by other stars rather than being the only one.
.07—- bkb entertainment is holding auditions. she is thirteen and has had enough of being the only star in sight (occasionally she reprimands herself for this arrogant train of thought). she dances to the song to which she’s practiced for months before the audition and doesn’t miss a beat, her body in tune from her head to her heels. then,
.08—- ‘can you sing?’
.09—- and a heavenly sound comes out of her mouth, one that sounds like a siren song and it hits her with mild surprise (besides impromptu karaoke nights with her mother and sister, she hasn’t sung a day in her life) and just a little bit of dread; she is supposed to become a main dancer. she will not be the main vocalist for any group, she will not be the main vocalist for any group, she will not be the main vocalist for any group—
.10—- ‘congratulations. we believe you will be the perfect main vocalist for a future group.’
.11—- she just about dies right then and there, but beggars can’t be choosers; maybe they’ll realize that she’s not worth being a vocalist. but much to her chagrin, the longer she trains, the better she becomes at singing, and the farther she gets from her goal of main dancer. she doesn’t have it in her to fail on purpose, so she gets closer to the position of main vocalist. and yet she hopes.
.12—- and fate, of course, has it out for her. it’s announced when she is eighteen that she will be the leader of a brand new group, silverBEAT … and the main vocalist. she secretly prays that the group will fail, and she will have another chance at the position of main dancer in a different one.
.13—- as expected, she is evaluative of the prospective members when they first meet. she can see the flaws in their trades as well as she can see the flaws in her own. but she also sees the beauty behind the little things the other members do, and with a satisfied smile, she decides that this group will be perfect for now.
.14—- it is far easier to be comfortable around them once she gets to know them. she can joke and laugh and play in their presence as if she has known them for years, and she takes the skills she learned from caring for her sister and applies it to them. despite this, she feels guilty as her prayer is not granted; not only does silverBEAT not disband, but they become the most popular group in the industry. a dancer position is even farther from her than she could possibly imagine; who would dream to let her change positions so far into her career?
.15—- but her group is enough. she may hate their cute concept with a passion. yet even when she grimaces from the far back positions in their performance formations, she passes the flashes of teeth off as smiles. she cares for her group and thanks the star through her window that they did not disband as she had hoped. but still, she has heard things about other companies like mirage; of course a visually-oriented company like them will appreciate dancing skills like hers. she is not an idiot. she knows that bkb is treating her unfairly, and plans to switch out as soon as their contract ends.
.16—- then 2014 rolls around, and her beloved ninth member and fellow vocalist applies for a contract termination. aejeong tries to hide her disappointment; she’d hoped, at least, that she would stick around till the end of the contract three years down the road. but she holds her tongue; she understands why one might want to leave early, what with how dangerous bkb is. this, unfortunately, manifests in aejeong ignoring her soon-to-be ex-member, and aejeong is heartbroken to learn, after the girl’s official exit from the group, that too many believe aejeong hated her and kicked her out.
.17—- she doesn’t mind. no, that’s a lie: she does. it hurts to think that she could hate any group member, not when she watches them make their acting or modeling debuts, or when she buys her ex-member’s brand new solo debut on her phone and listens to it every night when she makes dinner. perhaps she was critical of them at first, perhaps she wanted nothing to do with them at first, but that doesn’t matter; they are now her little sisters, the ones she’d protect with everything she is. she soon finds that that even means protecting them from their company.
.18—- because it is now 2017, and bkb springs them with a revelation of fine text that had apparently been in their contract since 2014. (numbly, aejeong wonders if she should have left with their ninth member.) she could collapse with pain, but she can’t stand to cry in front of them; she is already a failure of a leader, a fake main vocalist, a disappointment who couldn’t protect her group from three extra years of long nights and health-threatening schedules. she goes home and weeps with her sister and mother, curses their ceo. silverbeat’s concept has long since changed from their hated cute one, but despite this, aejeong can’t find it in her to keep her energy. when they coerce her into a solo debut, she doesn’t flinch, completely numb to the dishonesty that is this company. she no longer cares about performances— all her time and resources will go into keeping her group guarded from the hell that is three more years (just three more years, three more years). even if she can’t join mirage afterward, even if bkb killed her passion for dance long ago, park aejeong holds out hope for the comfort that her seven little sisters will continue their careers as unscathed as she can keep them.
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