#i genuinely may be driven to meet new people by this it's So Bad. it eats its way through me any fucking time

[lord-shitbox]

U guys dont understand what a situation im in. Guys. Crossfaded at the function & I wrote porn during the whole entire christmas movie we watched. high off my ass writing dialogue for two characters doing the nasty while a movie about lesbian christmas sex is playing. ???? im so serious the loneliness crushes me no matter what I do I think becoming a fuckboy is the answer

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Reader is female • Y/N is Billie in this story; Josef uses the alias John • Christian/Catholic imagery mentioned, as well as cancer/death • dry humping, breast worship, coming in clothes, some aggression/biting, squirting, Josef lying/manipulating but he’s hella cute doing it… 😊 🥳 happy new year 2025!

You never did anything like this. It was fucking insane. Risky at the very least, and at the worst, potentially deadly. Yes you were strapped for cash, but responding to an anonymous Craigslist ad to record a man in private-with god knows what in mind-was an incredibly bold move, even for you. Thankfully, you were meeting at a hotel, instead of his private residence, a fact that made you feel slightly less worried. If the guy did turn out to be a serial killer or something, you at least had the guarantee of people close by who could hear you scream for help. That is, of course, if you were able to scream at all. You considered that the ‘audience,’ you were hoping for in the form of hotel guests may turn out to be witnesses instead.

The thought chilled you, and you tried to put it out of your mind. This was a responsible act, you told yourself, not the reverse. It would be irresponsible to miss rent again, to potentially lose your home. Times were tough; the debt you’d acquired from college wasn’t going anywhere soon. It was time to put the creative arts degree you’d worked for to use. Filming some guy in a hotel room for a few hours, for well over a thousand dollars, balanced things out in your mind. He was probably just some weirdo making an avant-garde film, you assured yourself. And if by chance the guy ended up having genuine talent himself, combined with your editing skills, the film might actually be an important addition to your resume.

Finding the hotel was easy enough. You’d driven past it on the highway probably hundreds of times in your life, so the name was familiar to you. But you’d never been a guest at the hotel, nor had you really seen it up close. In perspective, it wasn’t quite as clean-cut as your brief glimpses from the highway had suggested. The word that came to mind for describing the place was ‘seedy,’ like you were walking onto the location of Dan Bell’s Another Dirty Room series. Your instincts told you this was a bad sign, both figuratively and literally, as you took in the sun-bleached name of the hotel emblazoned above the lobby entrance. You reminded yourself of the money you needed, the money that was promised for you on the other side of Room 222’s door. The outside condition of the hotel didn’t really matter, you reasoned. Maybe the man who hired you was strapped for cash himself? Perhaps he didn’t have many options in terms of location, and simply chose the hotel that suited his budget? Maybe I shouldn’t be such a stuck-up bitch, you wondered, feeling a little ashamed. You’d been trying to work on slowing your initial responses to people and places, not wanting to judge a book by its cover, so to speak. It was a new year, and a new start for you towards being a more open-minded individual. This experience was testing your commitment to improving yourself, because your intuition was practically screaming at you to get the hell out of there.

Taking a deep, mindful breath, you entered the elevator. Its interior was just as dingy as the rest of the hotel, and when the doors opened on the second floor, you were hit immediately with the smell of stale cigarettes and booze. Another sigh, this one a little less mindful, left your lungs heavily. You adjusted the strap of your camera bag on your shoulder, and proceeded to room 22…

When you’d reached the stranger’s door, you took a second to settle your nerves before knocking twice. “John?’ you called, forcing your voice steady. “It’s Billie.” Only silence responded from behind the door at first, followed by the sound of footsteps quickly approaching. The door pulled open, just a crack, but enough for you to see the face of the man who’d hired your services for the next few hours. The first thing you noticed were his eyes. They were kind eyes, you assessed, a warm hazel with flecks of copper that revealed themselves when the light caught them just right.

“You’re Billie?” Josef asked. He was obviously surprised, and you quickly realized why. “I was expecting someone…someone-.” Josef paused.

“Male?” you offered. “I get that a lot.” Josef chuckled good-naturedly, his friendly smile easing your nerves. “Well with a name like Billie,” he said, pulling back the door for you. “I can imagine it happens a lot. Please-.” He waved his hand past himself to the room. “-Come in.”

The more you saw of Josef, the more you liked him. He was taller than you, but not so tall that it was off-putting. He was just right, the kind of height you wouldn’t even have to lift on your tiptoes to kiss. The mental image flickered through your mind, and you cleared your throat, remembering why you were there in the first place. Yes he was a good looking guy, who for some reason put you at ease in a way you’d never felt when meeting someone new before. But you were there for the sole purpose of capturing his artistic vision on film, and for that purpose alone.

“So what did you have in mind, John?” you asked, setting your bag down on one of the two queen beds. Josef cocked his head, his curious expression returning. The door clicked shut behind him. You watched to make sure he didn’t turn the lock. Even though you really liked this guy, he was still a stranger. And you were still standing here with him in a sleazy hotel room, with his body currently between you and the door.

“I appreciate your question, Billie,” he said, emphasizing your name. “Billie. Billie the Kid. Anyone ever call you that, Billie?”

You felt your cheeks flush a little, because for some reason, his question felt like a compliment, even though it wasn’t. “I-um,” you distractedly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “My dad used to call me that. When I was little.”

Josef nodded, snapping his fingers for emphasis. “Smart man. He had vision. As do I-.” He ducked suddenly around a corner and returned with what looked to be a veil, like the kind you’d seen the Virgin Mary depicted wearing in art. Josef draped the lace fabric over his shoulders and approached you, his face and tone solemn with importance: “…And with your creative direction, Billie, my vision will be brought to life…It was fate herself that willed our paths should cross…” Josef took another step closer, close enough that you began to worry he could hear your heart racing. “You could have been any other Billy…even a Bill, even a William for that matter but no, my dear sweet Billie-.” Here, Josef’s hands moved to cup your face in his palms, your eyes going wide in surprise. “…This is destiny,” he continued, almost in a whisper. “We’re partners now.” He went slowly to his knees before you, his palms together as if in reverence. “Blood of my blood…flesh of my flesh…” You recognized the paraphrased scripture as you gazed down on the strange man knelt at your feet. Josef took your hands in his, rising to a standing position, his eyes never leaving yours. “Oh my god, Billie…Oh my god,” he said through a warm smile, eyes lit with excitement. “This is gonna be a good night...”

Over the course of the following hour, you watched and recorded, offering input as requested from your client: a little change in lighting here, a play with background props there. From what you could tell, the vision Josef had in mind was a sort of religious horror short. His ‘character,’ was meant to be a man possessed by unholy forces. The Devil has a deadline, a certain amount of time he’ll allow the man before the demons take over completely. The man knows his time is up, that he’s in his final hours. He hires someone to document on film his last night on earth, before he’s unwillingly summoned to his unavoidable fate in Hell.

As a concept, it all sounded really cool. Bringing that concept to life however, with no budget and a lead who couldn’t act, was not cool by any stretch of the imagination.

Regardless of the details and Josef’s lackluster performance, nothing could have prepared you for what happened next. Whereas his character was standing strong in the trenches of spiritual warfare, it appeared that Josef himself was breaking down. You knew something was wrong, that he was no longer acting when he deviated sharply from the script and began to shed real tears, not the miserably-unconvincing ones he’d faked for a scene.

“Hey…it’s okay, John,” you assured him. He knelt at the bedside on which you were seated, resting his head in your lap. Your pulse lurched, heart thudding inside your chest. You weren’t sure what to do, so you did the only thing that seemed right: you gently stroked Josef’s cheek in an awkward attempt at comfort. The tears had slowed, but they picked right up again when Josef revealed his left hand, which bore a wedding ring. Your heart sank at seeing it. “My wife,” Josef began solemnly. “This whole project was her idea…She wrote the script, created this character, his whole history…”

You nodded as you listened, your hands dropping to your sides. There’s no way you were going to be touching a married man like that. “…She wanted me to play him, to bring her creation to life,” Josef continued. “It was her greatest wish…and sadly, her last wish…” You hated yourself for feeling it, but a sense of relief washed over you. He wasn’t married after all. At least, not anymore.

“…The cancer took her three years ago,” Josef tearfully revealed. “Three years and I still haven’t made her dream come true…I’m still letting her down, to this day…” His lament was cut short by a sob, words fading into your lap as he wept there. You reflexively began to stroke Josef’s cheek again, because you’d only seen someone this upset a few times in your life. You couldn’t not offer him some kind of comfort; he was obviously hurting, deeply. “I think what we’ve made so far is great, John,” you told him. “From the looks of the script, it seems like you’re following it exactly as your wife wrote it.”

He tilted his head to look up at you, eyes wide and hopeful. “Do you mean it?” Josef asked. With a nod of confirmation, you replied “yeah, I do. I think you’re doing a great job.” His eyes narrowed slightly, a darker look overtaking them. Josef rose abruptly to his feet, and began to pace back and forth around the room. “I don’t believe you,” he declared flatly, in a voice so low you had to ask him to repeat himself. “I don’t BELIEVE you,” Josef insisted, adding “You’re probably sitting there thinking this guy can’t act worth a goddamn…you know I can’t do her dream justice, you’re just refusing to say it! You probably think I’m a failure, don’t you Billie?” He almost sneered your name at you, and normally, you wouldn’t have taken this kind of verbal abuse from anyone. But you knew this wasn’t a normal kind of hurt that Josef was feeling. This man was grieving, haunted by a level of grief you hoped never to experience. Remembering your commitment to judging others less, you knew that right now, Josef wasn’t behaving rationally. He was acting in his grief, and you wouldn’t let yourself take his sharp change in attitude personally. Instead, you calmly came to Josef’s side. You turned his face to yours, letting your fingertips linger along his jawline. The muscles in his throat tensed against your palm, veins pulsing with the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Josef’s eyes were wet and wide, like a puppy who’d been scolded. “I don’t think you’re a failure, John,” you told him confidently, a warm smile on your lips as your thumb brushed Josef’s. “I think your wife was lucky to have a husband who loved her so much. I think you’re a very special man.” He swallowed, his Adams apple bobbing under your fingertips. “Do that again,” Josef told you, his voice as much a prayer as a command.

“Do what?” you asked. Every indication of sadness had faded from Josef’s face, the tension in his body evaporating. “Tell me I’m special,” he replied. Josef’s hands went to your shoulders, gripping softly. “You’re special, John,” you said. “So, so special…” You brushed your mouth lightly against his, breath hitching as Josef’s tongue slipped between your lips unexpectedly. He was aggressive, impatient in a way that told you he hadn’t been touched in a long time. Josef’s hands were everywhere at once, finding your ass and clutching it in one hand while clumsily groping for your tits with the other. You let him lay you back against one of the beds, his hand pawing between your legs and massaging you through your jeans. You arched upward, keening into Josef’s thrusts, his bulge grinding into your thigh as he clumsily humped against it. Your hips trembled as his fingertips found your clit. The front seam in your jeans was positioned between your labia; Josef’s fingertips rubbed rough circles into the denim, kneading your cunt through the fabric. He buried his head against your shoulder, his mouth a wet mess of tongue and teeth, consuming the feel of your skin, its texture, its taste.

You curled your fingers in the hair at the back of Josef’s head, clutching him into you. His lips traveled down your neck and along your collarbone, tongue gliding between your breasts. Opening his jaw wide, Josef drew as much of your breast inside his mouth as he could. Your nipple hardened to meet his tongue, a warm, wet pressure flicking against it. Your grip in Josef’s hair tightened as you arched, pressing your tit against his face, offering as much of your breast as his mouth could hold. Josef sucked at your breast in a rhythmic tug, massaging your aerola between the muscles in his cheeks. He whimpered softly, a sign you interpreted as an expression of pure need. Josef needed to be held, to be cherished. He needed to be desired by a woman again.

You tugged back Josef’s hair to lift his head from your breast. He groaned at the pull to his scalp. A dark smile briefly touched his lips as he indulged himself to enjoy the sting. Josef’s mouth crashed against yours, his tongue forcing past your lips in a kiss that was somehow more greedy than the ones before it. His hands were on your hips, keeping them spread. Your clit throbbed against the bulky outline of Josef’s erection. He ground his hips forward, rutting his cock into the now-saturated crotch of your jeans. He whimpered again, returning his mouth to your breast. Josef clutched your other breast tightly, kneading the soft mound in his hand. Your nipple was swollen and sensitive against Josef’s rough palm as he groped you, his mouth busy at work suckling your other breast while his cock strained at the seams separating your skin. You came hard, rocking beneath the weight of Josef’s body pressing down on you. Your orgasm completely soaked through your jeans and wet the bed under you. Every punch of Josef’s hips produced a slick, saturated sound as he rutted your ass inside a puddle of your own juices. He growled into your breast, like something animalistic. The vibration of his chest against yours was like the low purr of a lion, rattling your lungs as if Josef was inside you, replacing the very air you breathed with himself. His thrusts grew sharper, his fingernails digging into your skin. You winced as Josef’s teeth suddenly nipped at your breast, his bite grazing your nipple as you pulled back in pain. Josef’s hands went quickly to your shoulders, pinning you down, his mouth immediately returning to your breast. Josef tugged and licked and sucked your breast till he was gushing cum into the crotch of his pants, a feral growl rolling from his chest as he claimed you…

In retrospect, you wish you hadn’t fallen asleep. You wish you could have checked in to make sure Josef was okay, to make sure he knew the brief time you spent together meant all that it meant to you. And even if none of that had been said, you would at least have liked the chance to say goodbye.

When you woke, Josef was already gone. He’d left your money on the bedside table, along with a note. The text read: Billie: Thanks for a special night. Beneath the text was what appeared to be a doodle of a wolf’s face. You knew it was unlikely you’d ever see Josef again. But just in case, you keep the note he left you, hoping that somehow, someday, you’ll have the chance to ask him what the little wolf doodle means… 🐺

[velvetwyrme]

This may be a stupid question but why do you like transformers? They look cool and I see people posting about them and get jealous but I don't know if I could really get into it myself... anything you would recommend starting with?

Not a stupid question! But certainly an interesting one!! Unsurprisingly, I ended up talking a lot.

I like Transformers for a lot of reasons! Partially because well... I like robots and mechanical things, and by association, mecha! But the reason I ended up getting sucked in past admiring the designs was because of the characters.

I'm a character and story driven person more than anything, so when I realised "oh my god Transformers is more than big robots battling it out" (still cool but not compelling to me) I knew I was doomed. Like yes, it IS about their 4 million year long war, but it's also about interpersonal relationships and revolution and morality (and the lack of), and also kind of going "what if this really fucked up thing happened? what then?" and a whole lot more.

I also really enjoy the way characters are portrayed differently across continuities, because sometimes you get really different interpretations of characters and I think it's fascinating and fun. (This should surprise no one, considering I also like UT AUs. like. Yeah. LOL. Of course.)

Honestly I was kinda feeling the same way you described up until... April? This year? (... Crazy. It has felt like WAY longer rhdjfhdjbfd) where TF kinda existed in my periphery but I was just like. Mild about it. I had some friends who liked it so it crossed my dash from time to time but I was kinda like. Meh??

But then I started reading a lot of Transformers fanfic because it had some specific tropes I wanted to read, and got sucked in because I was doing a lot of googling so that I knew what characters looked like. And then googling to find out what the fuck was up with characters (why does everyone write the weird blue helicopter like this? Oh... he's just... Like that. Okay. I love him.)

I also just... enjoy learning lore and worldbuilding facts and HO BOY. TRANSFORMERS HAS A LOT OF THAT. also fanon. I am learning new things constantly and its GREAT.

As for places to start...

=======

I mean, there's a pretty good movie that just came out ;]]!! TF One is genuinely a decent place to start imo. Other than that... I think I've actually answered this before actually ndhfjdhfkf but I'll answer again! I like talking. Evidently.

Depending on whether you like reading or watching stuff, you have a VARIETY of options:

Transformers IDW (2005)/IDW1 (Comic): LONG comic series. Really really really good though. IDW does... kind of require a reading guide though, and I have some linked in this post (under the cut!)

Some people recommend you start at the fan favorite series, More Than Meets The Eye (MTMTE), which follows a crew of mechs that is set after the end of the war. Fun adventures in space! Totally all fun and nothing bad happens ever. Personally I wanted to know about the war and so I read. everything else leading up to it first, but MTMTE is (somewhat) self contained especially for the earlier stuff, so I do think it's possible to start there if you want to!

Transformers Skybound (Comic): This is the current ongoing comic series, which probably makes it a good jumping on point, but it's also... very sad. And violent! With very little downtime. If you like that then bam go for it though. It's pretty good imo! It's a great intro to some of the characters. (Like Shockwave :])

Transformers Prime (TV Series): Fan favorite! I like it a lot and one day I'll get around to actually watching it I swear. I really love some of the characters in this... also I got really obsessed with Soundwave from this series and that's what spurred me to get into TF. Except I also NEEDED to find out what the fuck was up with MTMTE characters so I went and read IDW instead.

Transformers Earthspark, (but specifically the first season apparently): I don't... know what's going on with the second season and I've heard very mixed reviews of S3. Apparently S1 is good though! It's ALSO set after the war, which means you get Optimus and Megatron being besties which is fun whdjfbdjfbfk,, I haven't watched this one either but from what I do know of it, it's a decent jumping on point.

Transformers Cyberverse (TV Series): This one is aimed at a younger audience and so it has Short Episodes but it's still a pretty fun time! I'm... still only partway through season 2, and I've heard Seasons 3 and 4 are really good LMAO

Other notable options: The G1 Cartoon, Transformers IDW (2019)/IDW2 (reboot of IDW1, got cut short though :[...)

Alternatively you can also take the route I took and just read fanfic like a lunatic until you eventually cave and just go "FINE. I'LL GET INTO TRANSFORMERS." If that's the case, tell me so I can bumo up my schedule for making the fic rec list that I've been meaning to make anyway.

ALSO. Did I also mention that pretty much all the TV series can be found for free on Youtube? Because they are. Which is crazy to me but I'm certainly not complaining >:)!!

[nothorses]

it is genuinely just completely impractical to expect everyone to start fact-checking everything they see, "especially if it reinforces their existing beliefs!". we encounter new information constantly, and not just online! humans are always, always learning, and that's even more true in community spaces & interactions with other people.

stopping to fact-check every single thing we learn is not just impractical because it's time consuming, it's impractical because we often don't even know we're learning something. for everything you notice you're learning, there are so many things you're absorbing without realizing it; often layers upon layers of meaning and connection that you don't realize you're making.

we form trusting relationships with people and learn through them- through our communities- because that's the most efficient and effective way to make sure we're getting the best information we can. it makes the process of learning new things much smoother and safer; this person is trustworthy, so I don't need to question everything they say, so I can focus my energy on learning without having to constantly worry about the quality of information I'm taking in.

and if I could dip my toe outside of my immediate lane for a moment, I'd wager this is why so many cultures have versions of elders, mentors, and members of a community entrusted with curating, safeguarding, and disseminating a community's knowledge (the examples that come to mind for me are indigenous elders of North American cultures I'm a little more familiar with, or Babaylans of indigenous Philipino cultures). I also would not be surprised if this is at least part of why lying is such a taboo in so many cultures.

so then we meet capital-driven news dissemination: headlines designed to get clicks and views, because that's where their revenue comes from. sensationalized news segments and stories to keep people watching through the commercial breaks, because that's where their revenue comes from. outright lies on social media designed to gain followers and subscribers and views, because that's where their revenue comes from.

capital is prioritized over quality of information, and all of these news outlets and social media personalities are incentivized to cultivate the same trusting relationships we'd seek out in the people we get out information from, because that's how they keep us there, because that's where their revenue comes from.

and, on the worse end: radicalization efforts focus on building trusting relationships to then teach people flawed and harmful information, once again taking advantage of the ways we as humans rely on community to learn. oftentimes these radicalizing figures are themselves seeking revenue moreso than their own ideological goals; plenty of right-wing figures plainly do not believe the shit they spout, but they make bank on protein powder sales, so they do it anyway.

the point I'm making is that this stuff may not be entirely new- bad actors, at least, have always been around in one way or another- but the root of the problem is not that people are "stupid", or that our critical thinking skills have been eroded. the problem is that we rely on community to learn, and that's being exploited.

and the solution is not going to be a pivot to highly individualistic ways of thinking, living, and learning. it's not going to be the expectation that every single individual person fact-checks every single thing they hear or learn, for themselves, without ever allowing themselves to trust anything or anyone else- and if they fail to do so, well, that's on them for being gullible, uneducated, and/or just a shitty person. neoliberalism is what got us into this mess, and it isn't going to get us out.

we need to build community-focused education practices, and community-oriented fact-checking and critical thinking efforts. education that is not profit-motivated, spaces where we strive to teach each other and learn together, and critical literacy that builds on and strengthens our connections, rather than ridiculing each other for failing to do as individuals what we are only capable of as communities.

my hot take this morning is that the spread of misinformation and the push to get folks to fact-check everything they see is less about "people being stupid" and more about our very necessary reliance on community being ill-suited to modern capital-driven news dissemination at best, and exploited by bad actors at worst.

[cinnamonest]

Diluc Ragnvindr - Yandere Profile

Yall are so kind and I am so undeserving hhhhh

If you stand idly by that flower girl in Mondstadt her idle line is something like "All I can think about is Diluc" And honestly same

This man exudes bde I'm sorry I just... It is a known FACT that Diluc is packing and I refuse to believe otherwise, lord have mercy I'm bout to SIMP

tws: yandere, mentions of violence

tws (below cut): noncon, kinda misogynistic in 1 part

------

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Acutely aware, and in the beginning, frustrated with his own self. He's very much a loner type of guy, and he likes it that way -- in his mind, people are distractions.

He doesn't talk to you too much, but you'll slowly and subtly notice his presence with increasing frequency. He hovers. Silent, but intimidating. He's always there, in the background. Somehow, everywhere you go, you can spot him somewhere if you try, and even if you don't see him, you know someone is watching you, from the skin crawling feeling of eyes on you. It will never go away, and it's easily enough to drive you to paranoia.

In reality, he'd like to talk, really, but he doesn't know how. For the first time in his life, he actually has the urge to speak with someone, not for his own desire to speak so much as speak with you- to learn about you, to hear your voice. But the poor thing has no idea what to say. He's used to just going about his day and only speaking to others when they need something from him.

When he does talk to you, he finds himself even enjoying the silliest and most trivial of things you say. Normally he hates small talk, and he's normally annoyed by anything outside of very serious matters, but even if you're raving about something he has no interest in, he's happy to listen just because it's you.

He's fairly aware, too. Not a delusional for the most part, and he's honestly a bit afraid of rejection - he knows he's not the most pleasant or charming person to be around, and certainly not the best conversationalist. He tries to make up for it in thinking that his money, status, and protective ability can be something he can use to draw you in, so he makes sure to subtly and frequently remind you of those things.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Eventually, it's inevitable. It will happen, it's just a matter of time. His reasoning is less about your fragility and safety, even if he pretends it is, and more of a selfish thing. He doesn't want to be, and he'll certainly feel guilty for it, but he's a silently jealous person. Hearing you talk to others, seeing you smile at others, it drives him up the wall. Even during the day, he can't focus, thinking of what you're doing, who you're with, what you're doing with that person, and so on. He can't get anything accomplished, and people notice something is wrong with him. Really, it won't be a very long time at all.

He's not a very good manipulator, and he can't really think of a good reason to get you to walk into the winery backrooms on your own, so as barbaric as it may feel, he'll settle for the old fashioned way, just taking you, probably when you're walking all by yourself late at night. He is very intelligent, and will most likely formulate a way of making you seen responsible for some crime upon your disappearance, to discourage you from leaving, and to make it seem less mysterious when you disappear. People will assume that the darknight hero got to you. And, well, they’re not wrong.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

Initially, he's watchful, staying at the winery so that you can't get far without him noticing. He'll cancel his plans elsewhere and make sure he's never more than sight distance away from the building. With time, he'll have to leave, and when he does, he'll probably invest in some very high quality locks to keep you in. Should that prove to not be enough, he'll have to use chains to keep you attached to the wall, instead. Needless to say, it's difficult.

If you manage an attempt, he'll be angry, sure, but he understands why. The first time, at least. Don't push it. If you manage to keep trying, his sympathy for you will slowly erode with each successive attempt, and soon he'll run out of mercy, and decide maybe just forgiving you isn't enough, and you actually need to learn a lesson to prevent this from happening again.

"Again? You really... Really don't give up, do you. This is the fourth time now... You've really pushed it, you know, I've tried to be nice. If you're not gonna get that, I'll make you understand."

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Canonically speaking, he's fairly good at predicting the actions of others. He's clever like that. However, he's not the best at reading faces. As far as lies go, he will detect it maybe 80% of the time, but you can probably get away with a bit - once he catches you doing it once, though, he'll suspect you from there on out, and be much less likely to buy your lies.

When it comes to manipulation, he's one of the ones where it's like, he kinda knows, and lets it happen anyway, if it's for the sake of you being happy with him. That, and he's just flat out weak to your smiles and begging for little things. He's got his limits, though, so you'd be wise to only use this sparingly and not push it.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

Protective to the maximum degree. Probably the worst of genshin boys.

Absolutely zero contact with the outside. No family, no friends, he might even go to the extent of faking your death to ensure there's not even anyone who will look for you.

Unlike Childe, Zhongli, or Albedo that I've mentioned as allowing you for walks or outside visits... That's not happening with Diluc. No, he's insanely protective, to the point that you very well might not see sunlight again, except through a window.

And he gets that it can get depressing, he really does, it's just the one thing he can't do. He'll try to substitute it, get you nice large windows to let the sun in that you can sit in front of - provided he's there - and maybe after a while build a little screened-in porch for the winery that you can walk around on - again, provided he's right there. You really can't expect him to let you out there when you're alone. What if someone saw you and tried to hurt you?

You get the feeling it's less about keeping anything else out, and more about keeping you in, though.

He's actually good about letting you do things for yourself, though. He won't restrain you from cooking or kitchen utensils or anything like that, unless you do something stupid like try to hurt him or yourself, in which case it'll be a revoked privilege.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Initially, he tries to go easy on rules, as part of his attempt to make you more accepting. He'll keep you more restrained for the first little while, and later on you'll be allowed to walk, but certain sections of the building will be off limits. He's fairly simple - be obedient, stay inside, don't try to fight. He'll invent new ones based on your behaviors as time goes on, but for the most part, he doesn't want to control you too much.

He fears getting too mad and making you scared of him, so, he struggles to punish you initially. He's probably willing to let quite a bit slide, but once he senses you're taking advantage of that, he'll put an end to it. Once again, he can thank the fact that he's naturally intimidating - he'll grab your jaw and force you to look at him, and honestly, just the look on his face is enough to send chills down your spine. If you're persistent, he's not able to leave you all alone and isolate you, no, he can't handle being away from you for that long. He'll appeal to the punishment of boredom, tying you to one spot and giving you nothing to entertain yourself with will get you to crack in a fairly short amount of time.

Humiliation works well, too. You're all alone except for him, you don't need clothes. So if you want them, you'll have to behave.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

This man only has to look at people to send them running. He's very grateful for his scowl once he realizes the power it holds. You'll be none the wiser as to why everyone you meet seems to end up avoiding you, why people get nervous when you approach, why you can walk into a public place and it will clear out within minutes of you walking through the door. It's ok, though, since you have him to go to for your problems. He'll shrug and tell you he doesn't know why it happens to you, but it's no big deal, you don't have to worry about it, because you don't need them anyway, right?

He's not above having chats with people either. If they're not driven off by the glares, he'll give them another chance by spelling out very clearly that they should back off.

With persistent offenders, though, he has to come up with other means. He's not a delusional, and he knows deep down that this is selfish, that they're not really doing anything wrong per se, but his anger is violent and ultimately overrides any guilt. He'll find a way to make them out to be criminals, spies, or some other form of bad person, and they'll meet their fate at the hands of Mondstadt's mysterious nighttime vigilante.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

His default personality is... Irritated. He scowls a lot, he gets exasperated easy - even if he tries to be a bit more pleasant for you. His irritation is so common that seeing genuine anger is a bit rarer.

When he does, though, it's one of the worst. To really, really make him mad, you'd have to be exceptionally, intentionally bratty to the point of antagonism - he's understanding and lucid enough to understand why you fight him, why you try to run, but do it over and over relentlessly, or just be a childish brat and ignore his warnings, and he'll snap. His voice bellows when he's mad, it's deep and terrifying and echoes off the walls, his eyes narrow and he stomps heavily with every step. He'll grab you by the arm hard enough to bruise, and if you refuse to follow and dig your heels in, he'll just roughly swing you onto his shoulder and carry you.

He has to exert the anger in some way, though. He's not like some yanderes that can be talked down or calmed, or are going to go easy on you if you apologize and beg. Once the anger is there, it's there until he physically takes it out in some way.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

It depends, really, because he's highly lucid, so he has very little delusions about you. Unlike many of the others, he's willing to acknowledge your mental competence, and if you're intelligent and have life experience he'll acknowledge it. He won't recognize physical capability, though, since you're nothing compared to his strength. If you are a capable, independent person, he won't delude himself into thinking otherwise. It will, however, have a negative effect, probably the opposite of what you hope for - he's going to feel a bit intimidated by it, really, because if you're capable and independent, you don't need him as much. He's more likely to find ways to force your dependency on him, if so, but deep down he knows you're an equal on a mental level, and it's frustrating.

Now, otherwise - if you're a little more on the ditzy, airheaded side - it will be below. He's realistic, again, and if you genuinely do fall into the category of being naive and a bit dumb, he'll recognize it. He feels more secure in your dependency, and he's more likely to baby you this way, and will absolutely be more protective.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

He really wants you to. He's not sure if he deserves it, though. He's acutely, painfully aware of how awful the things he's done are, and to top it all off, he knows that he should wish he was a better man that had self control, yet... He doesn't. He can't lie to himself and pretend to even have a shred of regret, even if he feels guilt. If he hadn't done all those things, you wouldn't be here with him like this, and even though he knows it's selfish, so very, very selfish, knowing that the horrible things he did got him the result he wanted makes it worth it. And given the opportunity to go back, he'd do it again.

He wants you to genuinely love him, and even though he struggles with human affection and communication, he'll try his best to be sweet to you, say nice things, try to be less irritable, try to talk more.

But if dependency, isolation-induced attachment love is the best he can get, well, that's still love.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

He likes to just... Spend time in your presence. He's still ultimately not much for talking, he runs out of things to say very quickly and even if you're not talking, he's very very happy to be around you. If you're being cold towards him even, he wants to just sit there and be beside you, if you get up and sit on the other side of the room, or walk to another room (provided you have the privilege to do so), he'll follow you wherever like a little lost puppy and just silently sit right back down next to you again. He soaks in your presence like sunlight, it makes him happy.

If you show him affection, especially after an abduction or when stockholm syndrome starts to set in, it's one of the few times you'll see him smile. His smile is soft and faint, and it's less his mouth so much as his eyes that seem to light up. If you show him affection, you can eventually reach a very vulnerable, very soft side of him. He keeps up walls for everyone else, and he kind of desperately wants someone he doesn't have to do that with, so he'll crumble to your affection fairly quickly, once he's assured of your love.

Also, he's one of the ones who fully understands why you're mad. He gets it, he's lucid, and he honestly knows how awful what he's doing is. He still hopes you'll get over it, though, and if confinement and isolation except for him is what it takes to achieve that... So be it. Rather than justifying his actions, he acknowledges what he's done, but he's aware that psychologically, he's already long past the point of no return, and he can't bring himself to stop.

“I know this wasn’t... what you wanted, and, I know it’s, I know this was really, really bad, but I only did it for your sake. If you just... try to get used to it... maybe you can be happy, if you try.”

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

High, but embarrassed as all hell. He likes to maintain a very respectable and serious image, and people knowing that behind that neutral poker face is a brain running through nasty, nasty fantasies would not be very conductive to that image.

And that's what he does - working the bar gets very, very slow sometimes, and there's not much to do but sit around and let his mind wander. The more bored he gets, the more involved in these fantasies he becomes, and sometimes you might have to tap him on the shoulder to snap him out of it.

He feels guilty, really, for how he feels about you, and he knows that it's wrong and violating... But. But if you don't know, it won't hurt you, now will it? Nothing about the fact that he just thinks about bending you over the bar tables and fucking you raw is going to actually do anything bad. It's harmless.

He won't be touchy or perverse towards you by any means, and while that's nice, it causes something of a... Buildup. A lot of urges and needs have gone unmet, a lot of desperation to just feel you skin that has never been filled, and the thing about buildups is that when you reach a certain point they'll eventually burst, which is going to be what happens once you're in your new home.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

He's moderate. He'd like you to want it, he's not highly sadistic and doesn't get off to your struggling/crying the way Childe or Kaeya would. But, in the end he's very set on what he wants, and if you're not open to it, he's not going to wait long. As aforementioned, he's got a lot of pent-up need that has gone unchecked, and while he normally strives for self control, at the point of kidnapping you, he's built up enough sexual frustration that he's not going to be very patient. Again, he's not going to be mean about it, he's more the type to just kiss your forehead and mutter a few reassuring things, even as you hiss at the pain of being impaled. That's another issue - he's convinced you might just be intimidated by the size, so he'll keep reassuring you that it's not going to last long, your body just needs time to adjust, even though you feel like you're being split in two.

He's content with knowing that, even if you mentally aren't wanting it, your bodily reactions show that you're clearly not repulsed or anything.

He's also another one to use that very thing against you, much like Albedo. He can feel you twitch and clamp down when you're close and he'll tell you that if you love him you'll cum, and if you don't love him, you won't. But no amount of trying to bring yourself down is enough to override the overwhelming stimulation.

He's also one to get rougher/more intense with time. At first, he's a bit afraid of hurting you, and he's not entirely familiar with how this all goes, and even can be a bit prudish and reserved. But the more he fucks you, the more and more he realizes he really likes having a sense of control and dominance over you, and just how nice it feels to come home when he's frustrated from a bad day and just fuck that energy out. Once he realizes you're not going to break or anything, you'll notice him gradually getting rougher and harder with time, until it becomes a norm.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Stomach bulging/size kink

He's not normally an outwardly prideful person. His pride is more of a silent aloof type of pride, rather than a smug showoff type. He's not one to emphasize his positive traits just to look good. But, fuck, if there isn't something very, very pleasing about being able to physically see his dick making a bulge on your stomach every time he fucks into you. He'll make sure you don't close your eyes, grab your hair and pull your head down so you're forced to watch it fill you more than you can take, over and over.

He doesn't want to hurt you, really, but of all the things to whimper about, you just had to squeal that it's too big, that it hits your cervix, that it's splitting you apart, and as much as he really wants to be a good guy, you're really making it difficult. Hearing that just breaks something primal in him and makes him want to fuck you harder.

It's one of the few things he can actually get smug about, watching you clutch your gut and whimper from bruising and soreness even long after, and as time goes on he might lose enough shame about it all to make a smug comment. He knows he should feel bad. But again, you make it hard to.

Breeding

It's a possession thing, really. There's something so utterly satisfying about just watching cum drip out of you, listening to you whimper whenever you feel it filling you up. It's kind of cute, when he tells you he'll cum inside you and you panic, you squeal and wriggle and unintentionally clench down hard enough to make that happen, you practically just milk the cum out of him when you do.

Forced feminization?/housewife kink/I dont know what to call it but hear me out dammit

He has in his brain this idea of a perfect little housewife and you're going to fit that model whether you want to or not. When he breaks into goes back to your old apartment to bring clothes for your new home he'll only pick the most frilly, feminine of all the things you owned, and if you don't have too many, he'll buy ones for you.

He just likes the idea of having a nice, sweet little wife to come back to, especially after being so stressed with whatever bullshit he's had to put up with that day. Really, any darling in captivity is kinda sorta filling that role, but he's got a very specific image in his mind of you being very... Domestic. Submissive. Frilly little clothes and aprons and cleaning things and making food, it's very cute and gives him a weird sense of dominance that will inevitably turn to arousal - something about the whole ownership and submission aspect of seeing you walk around in those clothes, doing your little chores makes him really want to grab you and bend you over the nearest surface and just - well, you get the idea.

And he's not gonna listen to your whining, either, even if you're a naturally tomboyish person. You could have been the roughest adventurer there was out there, all ragged and getting covered in scrapes and climbing mountains and fighting monsters, but that's in the past, now. Now, is time for you to give that lifestyle up, in favor of a better one, one that will make you happier... if you just let it. 

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

He's yes and no, but mostly yes in theory. It fits into his little housewife fantasy and he feels it would be a good way to keep you attached to him. It would make you less likely to leave, it would give you something to do all day, you'd be happy. He's a bit worried about his own capabilities, though. He's not super empathetic and he's not very talkative. Ultimately, it would probably end up an accident that results from the aforementioned breeding kink.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Another one kind of like Razor, he's not gonna think it out too much, but holy fuck, if he's mad, just fucking feels like a punishment in and of itself. You'll realize just how much he's holding back on the regular when you see what it's like when he hold nothing back. It's bruising, it's brutal, and it's a little frightening to witness that kind of raw strength. He'd be one to pick you up into the air completely, holding your whole body up with his arms, forcing you to cling to him so as to not fall while he bounces you up and down on him. And really, once you account for the affect of gravity, so it's slamming into you at unprecedented force, and fuck, it's likely horribly painful, even if that pleasure is still there.

If he's exceptionally mad, he's another one willing to belt you, and while he'll certainly get off to it, it's something he'll only do when he genuinely has a reason to punish you.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Thighs. He likes hooking them over his shoulders, grabbing the fleshy soft parts with his hands, running his hands up and down the sides. One day, one you're comfortable enough, he'd really like to just lay his head down on them like a pillow, they look so soft. And he loves looking at them too, loves things that show just enough of the curve of your hips to your legs and the soft skin underneath.

[faeobsessed-cauldronblessed]

Why Tamlin Is One of the Most Hated ACOTAR Characters: A Rant

I've been thinking about this a lot. I see a majority of people dislike Tamlin, however, there seems to be a new legion or pro-Tams emerging. Especially post ACOSF, it seems people's disappointment in Rhys has somehow made their lense shift on Tamlin. I wanna share my thoughts, and I want to be clear about something: I do not care if you think Rhys does the exact type of shit. I disagree for one but even assuming he did, that does not make anything Tamlin did less bad or good.

"Tamlin Wasn't That Bad"

This is something I see a lot. People will point out how much he loved Feyre and how he helped her family financially. They point out only his good behavior, and then say "all he did was lock her in a house."

Let's consider this just momentarily as fact. "All he did" was lock her up, taking away her agency, after she had just been locked up in a cell for months in order to save Tam and the rest of Prythian. Those of you who are fortunate enough to not experience PTSD symptoms may not see what he big as a huge deal. But what he did essentially put Feyre right back in that cell under the mountain. This is supposed to be her lover, her partner. And he treated her like a treasured object not to be stolen, not a person with desires and needs.

Also.

That is far from all he did.

I think some of you forgave him literally exploding a room at her just because she was quick enough to put up a shield of defense. Just because he didn't hit the target of his rage doesn't mean it wasn't abusive.

He also never gave her any opportunity to prove her strength. He complete underestimated her and essentially didn't trust her. There is no real partnership if there is no foundation of trust.

So no. Tamlin did a lot more than "just" locking her up.

"Tamlin Redeemed Himself in ACOWAR"

I mean, sure, to an extent. He also humiliated her in the High Lords meeting, and is still too stupid to see Ianthe for what she is. But yes, he did help her escape Hybern's camp versus let her get brutally killed. And he did help bring Rhys back. These are baby steps toward Redemption. Not true redemption yet.

"He had a terrible life! And no friends to help like Rhys did! And a bad family except his mother!"

Literally all of this applies to Lucien as well. Next.

"He and Elain should be together!"

Glossing over the fact that it's her sister's ex (🤮), why are y'all so fond of reducing Elain to nothing more than flowers? Flowers don't just belong in spring, and I hate reducing a character down to one thing about them. This is a gross take, period.

"He deserves redemption!"

I agree but ONLY IF he genuinely looks inward and tries healing, not just covering his emotions with a beast form and feral anger. I don't think he is the most evil character in this Fandom and I would enjoy seeing him realizing his mistakes and working hard to be better. I think that would be beautiful. But right now? He still needs to work through his shit before any chance of genuine redemption. Also with that said I don't want his redemption to be death! I want him to face his issues.

"Why does he get so much hate?! Amarantha, King of Hybern, Koschei, etc are so much worse!"

I think we're all intelligent enough to realize Tamlin is not driven by pure evil like some of the other villains in this series. He's driven by selfishness and self entitlement and control. So why is he so hated? Because many people, myself included, have experienced a Tamlin in our lives. He is the most realistical "bad guy" I've ever read because you don't see 🚩🚩🚩at first, and by the time you do, he's locking people up and nothing like the fiddle playing Fabio we liked in book one.

So, in conclusion:

Fuck Tamlin. (For now.)

[beccanoodles]

Spike and Faye Pairing Analysis

March 2021

Ah the hit or miss pairing of the century! If you don’t love it, you probably hate it lol. I’m a very analytical person so I love analyzing works of art and overall enjoy deep discussions about them too. I have SO much to say when it comes to Cowboy Bebop (and oh I plan to), but I have decided to start with my very own OTP. Here, I am not really going to discuss Spike and Faye’s feelings for each other, but rather why I think people are drawn to this pairing and why I think they're totally valid. Get ready for a long read!😁

⚠️SPOILER WARNING!!! [Major Cowboy Bebop and the movie Out of the Past spoilers]⚠️

First off, let’s clear something up. I am confident most of us can agree that Spike was in love with Julia. Some people assume Spike and Faye fans are deranged and disregard Spike and Julia’s romantic relationship to try and make something of Spike and Faye that never was. While some people may have their various theories and opinions on this, generally, I don’t think anyone denies Spike’s love for Julia. As we will see, this pairing is not really driven by who loves who...let’s first look on the surface.

I don’t know your experiences with the series, but in mine, every time I show this to people it never fails for someone to say something along the lines of,

“Wait, they don’t end up together?”

“Why didn’t he kiss her!?”

“He should have stayed with her...”

and so fourth. 

Naturally, this pairing catches many eyes. 

Think about it, you are given two really cool, really hot and really deep characters that are really fun to see together! There are so many parallels between the two and they are arguably the strongest characters of the bunch. Granted, you can agree with this and still not ship them, but these aspects are part of what opens up the door for many fans of the pairing.

However, there is certainly more to this pairing than them simply looking good together right? As the years pass and I’ve now seen the show multiple times, my understanding of it has evolved in many areas, Spike and Faye included. 

Spike and Faye really couldn’t have ended up together. Sure, it’s a nice thought, but It would have been an entirely different show if they had. I don’t feel that the show should have happened any other way and I don’t think many other fans would either. 

So, what am I saying here?

What’s the point of this paring if I don’t think they should have ended up together? 

It is what's so frustrating about them, yet keeps you coming back and what honestly validates this pairing in my opinion. Spike and Faye are not driven by what is, but rather, what could be.  

I personally feel the themes of classic film Noir are not discussed enough when it comes to Cowboy Bebop! This is one of the show's major influences, especially when it comes to the plot and characters.

One of the common tropes of a film noir is that of a protagonist who is drawn back into his past and ultimate doom, usually by the “seduction” of a femme fatale. In these movies, the women are either a femme fatale [devious, dangerous, mysterious, greedy, troubled, or unreliable] or a woman of virtue [reliable, dutiful, trustworthy, conventional and loving]. 

I am going to use the 1947 classic, Out of the Past to make my comparisons from here on out.

In Out of the Past, Jeff is a former detective who gets caught up in a love triangle between a gangster and his girlfriend Kathie, sound familiar? He attempts to run away with her, but is betrayed and runs off to start a new life in a new town. Here, he meets Ann and falls in love with her, but of course, his past catches up to him and he is drawn back into the world of criminals (largely by Kathie’s involvement). This ultimately results in his and Kathie’s deaths and Ann’s heartbreak. 

Even though Kathie is the femme fatale in this movie, I found myself comparing her more to Julia’s role in the show, than to Faye’s and I found that Faye actually fit best in Ann’s role (this is a bit unusual considering Faye is typically seen as the femme fatale of this show).

Does that mean I think Julia was as ill intentioned as Kathie or that Spike fell in love with Faye? Well, not exactly, let’s look at it a bit further.

“The kind of beautiful, dangerous ordinary that you just can’t leave alone...Like an angel from the underworld or a devil from paradise.”

Most of what we get about Julia is from Spike’s point of view. From this, we learn she is at the center of Vicious and Spike’s conflict, but aside from that she is basically depicted as “The Virtuous Woman” of a noir. The colors around her are warm and she is shown caring for Spike. There is an innocence and modestly about her as well.

Yet, when we finally do meet Julia, we get a different image. We know she is tied up with dangerous men, but is she herself a dangerous woman?

She is certainly capable of betrayal. 

Suddenly she is a bad-ass-gun-toting woman in leather and black, surrounded by hues of grey and dark blue. Intentional or not, Julia is a major part of what lures Spike back into the past and ultimately to his death. In this case, Julia is the femme fatale of Spike’s story and thus, their relationship is doomed from the start.

Faye, on the other hand, is portrayed in somewhat of a contrast. When we first meet her, she is the clear cut femme fatale, appearing cunning, strong willed and seductive. However, we soon find that she has quite a bit of kindness and naivety hidden behind her facade. She uses the former tactics as a way of emotional (and probably physical) protection. Gren points this out in his conversation with her. 

Gren, 

“You’re just afraid they’d abandon you so you abandoned them. You distanced yourself from the whole thing.”

As the show progresses, we start to see less of her “femme fatale nature” and something more genuine. Think about it, between Hard Luck Woman and RFB Part 2 we don’t see much of Faye as her typical conniving or unreliable self, aside from changing the course of the Bebop maybe. Sure she takes off, but it isn’t at all for the same reasons she did in Jupiter Jazz or Speak Like a Child, for example. 

I would argue we actually see her more trustworthy and caring than ever. Since I don’t want to spend too much time talking about Faye’s character development (not here at least) I’ll give one example of this. 

When she returns to the Bebop after her encounter with Julia in RFB Part 1, she gives Spike the message, even though the outcome might hurt her (i.e. he leaves and/or dies). While she does first say “It’s gonna cost you,” she doesn’t really mean it because she tells him without hesitation only moments later.

This isn’t to say Faye good, Julia bad. Both women have their layers and even though we know way more about Faye, I don’t get the impression that Julia is selfish and cunning like Kathie was. But I do get the feeling she was enclosed in a world of crime and betrayal the way Kathie was. We really only know the basics of Spike and Julia’s situation. Who knows the details like motive or how long it lasted etc. etc. We can only speculate...

There is a scene towards the end of Out Of The Past, where Kathie tells Jeff to go away with her. This time it is her asking him, just like Julia asks Spike. During this she mentions,

“I never told you I was anything but what I am, you just wanted to imagine I was. That’s why I left you.”

This got me thinking...did Spike imagine Julia as something she wasn’t? Or something he wanted her to be that she just couldn’t be? 

It could explain why we get such contrasted images of her.

There are themes of this “dreamlike” relationship between Jeff and Kathie, similar to Spike and Julia’s “It was all a dream.”

The two of them were going to “live and be free,” probably something neither of them knew how to do and most likely wouldn’t have been able to get away with.

When Jet asks Spike if he can just forget the past, this is his answer.

Spike,

“There was a woman. For the first time in my life I saw a woman that was truly alive. At least that’s what I thought. She was the part of me I had lost, that part that was missing, that I had been longing for.”

I always wondered about this, because Spike is clearly talking about Julia, but right after is when Faye shows up. To me, that spoke volumes...

Faye is a woman who is terribly human and terribly alive.

Going back to Faye and Ann, I find their similarities shine not so much in the “Virtuous Woman,” concept, but rather in Ann’s dedication to Jeff and her optimism for the future. She is also the last person to talk to Jeff before he leaves for the final time, as if he were being presented with one last alternative. Spike spends his last moments with Faye as well, in which she basically begs him not to go and keep him in the present that she has now discovered for herself. She may be stuck, but she is definitely someone that yearns for human connection, love, and life.

The problem is, Spike and Faye are both set in opposite directions. Her’s leads to a future and Spike knows this because he points it out early on (My Funny Valentine). He also knows, his most likely does not. He has already dug himself too deep into this hole, if you will, that there is really no turning back. 

But let’s say none of that was an issue? What could be?

I sat and watched this movie (Out of the Past) with my mom. She didn’t know anything about it and didn’t know why I was watching it. I wanted her genuine reaction. The whole time she was getting mad at Jeff until the very end. I asked her why and she said that she wanted him to be able to live happily with Ann. I explained to her why he had to do what he did. She understood this, but still couldn’t help but be sad at how things turned out for him, when they could have been good.

Even though Kathie and Jeff are the “lovers,” of this movie, you don’t really want them to end up together. Forget that Kathie has a devious nature, regardless, you know where it has to end and you don’t want to see your hero die.

Like Kathie, Julia symbolizes Spike’s inevitable doom and Like Ann, Faye symbolizes his possible future. 

“I’ll be with you till the end”

                           “You’re the one still tied to the past Spike!”

                                                               “Why do you have to go? Where are you going? What are you gonna do, just throw your life away like it was nothing?!”

It’s two sides of a sad coin...

We want Spike to have a future and because we love the characters of the show, it would be really great if he could have it with them, but that is where the tragedy is. It's only an idea we can think about, a possibility presented to us as it was to Jeff and Spike before their deaths.

The bottom line is, when it comes to Spike and Faye you are really only given a taste. You are not given what you expect to see, which is why I say this ship is driven by what could be. As it is with most of the character relationships in the show, no major breakthroughs are made until the very end, when it's too late. Then it just feels like such wasted potential, but sometimes in life, that's how it is. And thus, we have been given a very classic noir here ladies and gentlemen!

So no, I don’t think people miss the mark when they ship Spike and Faye, nor do I find they invalidate the show by any means. I kind of like that Watanabe switched it up and didn’t do the expected, but left us those subtle hints. He didn’t outright give Spike another lover, but he gave us someone that represents what he could have. Kind of does that with the crew as a whole too!

UGH. I love-hate this show and I love this pairing! Thank you for reading my thoughts and I know this may not be the case or reasoning for everyone, but just based on what I have seen around the community and where this show draws inspiration, this is what I have concluded. I didn’t get into Spike and Faye’s feelings for each other because it gets a little more theoretical there, but I would like to do a post on my thoughts on that as well sometime. I also didn’t touch too much on Spike’s reasoning for choosing to face Vicious in the end, just because I know that will only lead into a whole other analysis lol. But you know I have my thoughts on that and certainly plan to share them 😎 Also, I know I basically spoiled it, but Out of the Past is such a great movie!! I think if you’re a fan of this show it's definitely worth a watch! There are so many more parallels to Cowboy Bebop that I didn’t even mention. Anyways, thanks again and talk to you soon!

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

#1: Chloe’s “Damnation Arc” That Was Totally Planned From the Start

Time to talk about one of the most infuriating anecdotes of Astruc, and it shows how chaotic the production of Miraculous Ladybug is.

Chloe Bourgeois the resident mean girl you see in a lot of cartoons and shows with a school setting in general. She's the daughter of the mayor of Paris, so she tends to get her way a lot. And her callous personality has left several people emotionally vulnerable, which is how Hawkmoth creates his minions of the week, Akumas. Of the 26 Akumas in the first season, Chloe has contributed to 12 of them becoming akumatized through bullying, insulting, and publicity humiliating them.

In the first season, Chloe was the kind of character who you loved to hate. She was someone who served as a minor threat in the civilian lives of the main characters, and she would usually get her comeuppance at the end of the episode.

There was effort into giving Chloe character development, don't get me wrong, with six episodes between Seasons 2 and 3 dedicated to it. But for every moment of heroism Chloe got, it was always negated by the end, having her go back to her old self and learning nothing in the process. This was because of a strange idea Astruc has. For some reason, he wants the status quo to be the same so new viewers can jump in at any time. While that may work for a show like SpongeBob SquarePants or The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy, but not for a story driven show like Miraculous Ladybug. So Chloe's “character development” was an unfortunate case of one step forward, two steps back. This ended up disappointing fans, who were really hoping for Chloe to get a proper redemption arc. What's important to remember was that Astruc claimed that he planned for everything that's about to happen from the start, when you'll see that it couldn't be further from the truth.

Even after getting an entire trilogy of episodes focusing on her “development”, Chloe didn't really grow as a person. The only thing that changed was Ladybug would occasionally loan her the Bee Miraculous because of how good she is as Queen Bee. They tried mixing things up in Season 3 when Ladybug said she couldn't be Queen Bee anymore because her identity was public and it would be too dangerous... rather than how rude she is to everyone she meets, and is overall irresponsible with her powers (In her first appearance, she sabotaged a train so she could pull a Syndrome and save it herself, and it was quickly swept under the metaphorical rug). So throughout the third season, we'd get snippets of Chloe saying “Queen Bee could handle this if you let her!��� whenever she was on screen. This culminated in the season finale, where she got fed up of waiting, and willingly sided with Hawkmoth to get back at Ladybug.

And when fans were naturally miffed at all this time wasted on a character arc that went absolutely nowhere, guess how Astruc responded?

I find it ironic that Astruc is saying fans shouldn't insult the writing team or other fans because they didn't like the twist... while insulting fans who didn't like the way Chloe's character arc went. Astruc could have easily turned down the idea of a Chloe redemption arc, or find some way to compromise instead of whatever we got. But even if he didn't, why does he have to be so callous about it?

Even if you don't like Chloe, this still screams bad writing. Why focus so much on a character's development so much if you're going to just throw it out the window? There were several times where Marinette was scolded for saying she couldn't change, and that she needed to see the good in Chloe, and now you're just turning back on it? If she was irredeemable the whole time, why dedicate so much time to her “damnation arc”, as Astruc puts it? Why not focus on getting to know other characters and their relevance to the story like Master Fu? Why not focus on writing more interactions between Marinette and Adrien? You know, the two leads whose relationship is the main focus of the show?

And it wasn't just here. Before the season finale, whenever people talked about how they loved Chloe and fanfics showing her growing as a person, Astruc just shut them down. If someone tries to reason with Astruc the importance of being kind to others, he'll just say something like “That doesn't matter, Chloe sucks!” Because that's a good lesson to teach kids, right? People can never change, so why bother?

It's not just those characters either. The last decade we got characters like Weiss Schnee, Pacifica Northwest, and Amity Blight. These were all mean girls who weren't just one-note caricatures of bullies, but characters who actually grew as we got to know them the longer their shows went on.

The thing is, Chloe has all the pieces necessary for a redemption arc, and there are fans and writers alike who want her to get a proper one. But because of Astruc's own stubborn beliefs, he refuses to let anything interesting happen. Change is possible, some of the most interesting characters in fiction are those who genuinely want to be better (Just take a look at all those examples I used earlier, and I'll show more if I need to).

And when someone pointed out that character development is a thing?

I mean, it's not like there was any evidence in the show that made it look like Chloe was trying to be a better person—OH WAIT.

And then, that same person pointed out the redundancy of having two mean girls to antagonize Marinette in her civilian life, relying on the stereotype that all girls do is fight over cute boys instead of actually finishing the redemption arc the writers set up, as well as showing a screenshot of a Tumblr post that perfectly summarizes my feelings on Chloe's character development.

What does Astruc have to say in response to these valid criticisms? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

That's literally all he said to this person. He didn't refute anything that person said, he didn't defend any of his writing choices, he basically plugged his fingers and his ears, and went “LALALALALALA, I'm not listening! I'm not listening!” Dude, you chose to open this Twitter account and take questions, so expect a little criticism thrown your way. But what should I know, according to him, he already planned this for years!

But the main question remains: If you didn't want Chloe to develop or grow as a person, Astruc, why did you even get our hopes up in the first place?

[yoddream]

are you okay? | l.in

pairing: hockey player!jeno x gender neutral reader

summary: taking a puck to the face really fucking hurt.

warnings: blood, hospitals

a/n: hey!!! this picture gave me no choice but to write this. i’m sorry i’ve been so inactive. i’m writing my bad boy jeno story, and it’s taking a lot more time than i expected. i’m also still working a lot, and with the holidays coming up it’s gonna get even crazier. please enjoy!!! and i’m writing this in mobile so sorry for no keep reading button. This is actually horrible I am so sorry.

It was absolutely freezing as you raced to class. The sun was shining, but it was the middle of winter. The weather man had informed everyone that it would be the coldest day of the season so far, so you were bundled up as you walked against the frigid wind.

Unfortunately, you’d woken up late, and now you were trying to get to class on time. Your roommate was supposed to wake you like they’d promised, but they didn’t. So, now you were cold and late.

As you reached the university’s pond, you could see the math building in the distance. With a sigh of relief, you started the walk over the bridge that passed over the water. There was some shouting and laughter nearby, but you ignored it. The wind seemed to be even colder on the bridge, and you had no choice but to slow down.

“Watch out!”

Before you could even turn to see what was going on, something hit you in the side of the head. You fell to the ground, and as your vision started to darken, you couldn’t help but think, Well, at least I’ll have a good excuse for being late.

///

“...up! Y/N, come on, please wake up!”

The throbbing in your head made you groan. When you tried to open your eyes, it was far too bright. Your hands came up to shield the light, but somebody stopped you.

“Guys, stand around them to block out the light.”

Soon, you were able to open your eyes. Your vision was blurry at first, but then it started to focus on the boy that was kneeling over you. Lee Jeno, alternate captain of the school’s hockey team, looked extremely guilty, and you knew exactly what had happened: you’d been hit in the head by a puck.

“An ambulance is on the way. You hit the ground pretty hard,” Sungchan, one of the other players on the team, informed you.

“Which one of you idiots hit me,” you grumbled.

Everyone seemed to freeze. Okay, so maybe you were known for being cold towards people. Anyone who faced your wrath was always terrified, so you weren’t surprised to see the three boys hesitate to tell you the truth.

“I’m really, really sorry, Y/N. The puck went much higher than I thought it would,” Jeno said quietly, his eyes wide with fear, concern, and...sadness? Nobody had ever been sad after dealing with you.

“Yeah, he saw you and fucked up his slap shot.”

“Shut up, Yangyang,” Jeno hissed over his shoulder.

The sirens approaching caught your attention. You looked back to the boy that was still kneeling over you, holding something to the side of your head. When you reached for it, he gently stopped you.

“What-“

“My scarf is slowing the bleeding. I’m so, so, so sorry.”

Soon, there were paramedics tending to your head. You were loaded onto the gurney and into the ambulance. Jeno followed, ignoring his teammates’ protests, claiming that since it was his fault, he needed to go with you to the hospital. The doors were slammed shut, and you were soon on your way.

As the paramedic checked your blood pressure and vision, Jeno sat on the bench across from you with his scarf clutched tightly in his hands. It was supposed to be the school’s colors, orange and blue, but the large spots of red ruined it.

“I have no idea how I’m gonna explain this to my professor,” you mumbled.

“Oh! My friend, Renjun, is in your class. If you want, I can send a picture of you to him so he can tell your professor what happened,” Jeno offered.

Not having any other options, you agreed and watched as his hands shakily reached for his pocket. He unlocked it before holding it up in selfie mode. The two of you held up peace signs and listened as the phone a shutter sound.

“There. I’ll send it to him right now,” he said, his thumbs flying across his phone screen.

An hour into your visit at the hospital, you and Jeno were left alone. He was sitting in a chair nearby, his knee bouncing with nerves. The scarf was still in his hands, and you noticed that his knuckles were white.

“What did Yangyang mean?” you asked.

His head snapped up, and it reminded you of a puppy. Cute. “Huh?”

“He said that you saw me and fucked up your slap shot. What did he mean by that?”

The sudden rosiness of his cheeks caught you off guard. He looked embarrassed, and he wouldn’t meet your eyes. Instead, his gaze stayed glued to the floor.

“I, uh, may have liked you since our first semester,” he stated.

Your eyes widened at the information. “Jeno, that was two years ago.”

“Trust me, I know. God, this is so embarrassing,” he whined.

“Why?”

“Because I was never going to say anything-“

“No, why do you like me?” you asked quietly. Even you could hear how broken you sounded.

He finally looked to you, face determined. “Because I know you’re as beautiful on the inside as you are out. When you took care of Winwin while his leg was broken, I could tell it wasn’t because you wanted to date him or whatever. You genuinely just wanted to help him. And I know you helped Jisung around campus. Even though Jaemin kind of adopted him, you two still keep in touch. I’ve seen you two grab lunch together, and I know that when Chenle tagged along once, you refused to let him pay, even though everyone knows how much money his family has.”

You looked to your own lap, a small smile on your face as you felt your cheeks warm. “Winwin is a family friend. He’s the reason why I applied here. I needed a familiar face so that I wouldnt feel so overwhelmed.”

Jeno slowly scooted closer, not wanting to upset you. “See? Even though you act tough and cold, I knew there was more to it.”

There was a pause. Then, you said, “Nobody’s ever told me they liked me.”

“Can’t say that anymore.”

When you were finally discharged, Jeno called for an Uber. As the two of you waited, you shuffled closer to him to stay warm. His arm snaked around your waist as his cheeks managed to get even more pink in the cold. The two of you sat in silence, enjoying each other’s presence.

“I like you too,” you mumbled. “I always have, but I was afraid that you were scared of me like everyone else.”

“A little bit, but it kept everything exciting,” he admitted.

When the car arrived, he insisted on making sure you got back to your apartment okay. With your head throbbing at the thought of arguing with him, you couldn’t help but let him do as he pleased. Doctor’s note in one hand and his in the other, you watched the city fly by as you were driven home.

Once you were standing in front of your building, you didn’t want Jeno to leave, but you knew he still had classes and practice to get to. He seemed reluctant to go, as well, his fingers hooked with yours and swinging side to side as you faced each other.

“Well, I should go,” he said with a sigh. “Again, I’m really sorry for hitting you with the puck.”

“Don’t worry about it. A couple stitches and a concussion aren’t too bad,” you stated, but the reminder of your injuries made him frown.

“You have my number now, so text or call if you need anything. Or, you know, if you just want to.” His hand started to venture towards his face, but the bloody scarf reminded him that he couldn’t use that one. It gave you an idea.

“I promise I’ll make you a new scarf. Hopefully it’ll be ready by our first date,” you said.

The blush and grin on his face was completely worth it.

[patton-ly-absurd]

Spear of light, Sword of darkness

First Previous

part seven?!

Damian stayed quiet through the whole meeting with his father, he had nothing to say. His whole purpose of being was the league, he always knew that, but it wasn’t the league he was loyal to, it was,- he was pulled out of his thoughts by Talia speaking. “He’ll stay with you then?” Damian looked up at the man before him, he didn’t seem like anything special. Sure he looked like he had money, but Damian really didn’t understand how he was supposedly the best option for the head of the league.

“That’s fine with me, I would have to have a room set up and introduce him to the others but it's fine. Let me make a few calls,” The man turned away presumably to talk to the “others” he mentioned before. “Yes. Dick, just get the others in the main room, you probably already know why,” “This is something you do often then?” Apparently the man on the other end of the phone heard him because he started laughing hysterically. Eventually Bruce sighed and hung up.

On the ride to the manor Damian fought to think about anything other than the event that happened just a week before. Anything was better than reliving those moments. He focused on the lights around him, red, green, blue and sometimes even… purple. He flashed back to the purple glow radiating off of the monk’s hand and Thea convulsing on the ground screaming. He shakes his head to stop his thoughts, but then he realized something ‘she dropped her spear didn’t she ,if it’s still there then she’s...’ but once again he was taken out of his thoughts, for they had arrived at the manor.

The man who had driven them got out of the car and opened the car door for Damian. The man said something in English that he did not understand. “Father tell me what this man said, I do not know English so I do not understand him,” Bruce responded in Arabic “ This is Alfred Pennyworth, he was introducing himself. He is our butler,” Damian studied the man, he looked to be of British descent, and around the age of sixty. He didn’t look to be any type of threat so he didn’t need to worry about that. Damian simply nodded then having nothing to say.

Once the group got inside the manor they were bombarded by three young men. Each looking about two years apart, with the oldest looking at most eighteen. The oldest one walked over and introduced himself. “Hi! My name’s Richard Grayson, but most people just call me Dick. These are my brothers Jason Todd, and Tim Drake. Neither of them understand Arabic yet so that’s why I’m introducing them,”

Damian loathed this entire situation, but Grayson seemed like a genuinely nice guy, ‘if not an obnoxious one,’ the part of his brain said. Damian forced that thought out of his brain. As much as he tried to pretend the events of the last week weren’t real they were, and if Thea was dead, he would at least do what she asked of him, he would become a good man. For some reason he thought that he would have to start here, he was going to try to understand these people who were supposedly his family. No matter how annoying they may be. Because if that’s not how you become a good person then, how do you?

A few months later, it was safe to say he was struggling. He didn’t understand this new environment. People spoke so openly about so many things, they talked about mundane things like dinner or what the itinerary had on it. He didn’t understand it and eventually he asked “Why do you people talk about such mundane and unimportant things? Isn’t speaking something that is a privilege or what other?” The others in the room, who were mostly fluent in Arabic at this point, if not perfect at the pronunciation, looked at each other before Todd of all people spoke up “Demon spawn-” as they had begun to call him, that was another thing he didn’t understand. ‘What are these ‘nicknames’ they speak of I have a name for a reason,’ He would think whenever he got called that “-Where you were before, were you not allowed to speak?” Damian looked at Todd, he seemed concerned and confused, “That is correct, Is that abnormal?” Dick is the one that spoke up this time “Damian, not only is that not normal, that’s abuse, like really bad abuse, especially when it’s done to a child,” Damian didn’t really understand what the word meant, he would look it up later, but he had a feeling it was a bad thing. What didn’t know could hurt him apparently, that’s something he’d had hammered home to him twice that year. But with Thea, he wanted to hope she was alive, and searching for evidence, he didn't want to prove that she wasn’t. But he had to, if there was a chance that she was alive he had to know. Even if it broke what little he had left.

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@moonlightstar64 @nightlychaotic @ashbrea381writings @rebecarojas07 @laurcad123

[linkspooky]

I would like to ak you about Stain and Dabi, at the very least Stain seemed to consider Deku and Shoto "true heroes", with All Might at the example to follow. Meanwhile it seems Dabi doesn´t believe real heroes exists, not even All Might. Why do you think that´s the case?

So your question here is whether Dabi is following Stain’s will or not? Dabi’s ideals may not line up 1:1 with Stain, but I would say he’s far more loyal to Stain and his ideals than to anybody else in the manga. He may even be more loyal to Stain to the point of being disloyal to the rest of the league of villains. A comparison of ideology and methods of both Stain and Dabi underneath the cut. 

1. Stain’s Number One Fanboy

There are lots of aspects of Dabi’s reveal that were clearly inspired by and are even a continuation of what Stain did that made ripples in society. First and foremost Stain’s greatest success was that he got the actual public talking about him. 

This has always been the difference between the League of Villains, and Stain. Even when the League of Villains has points to make and try to communicate with others, they often get dismissed as villains who chose to be villains for selfish reasons. With Stain, even characters like Deku who are often too naive to grasp this can recognize  why Stain’s motivations eventually pushed him into becoming a villain. 

Stain is the one villain so far we’ve seen the heroes react to with something other than, “Well obviously they just chose to be a villain, because they’re evil, mean, nasty and selfish.”

To us, the audience Shigaraki makes more sense as a character. We know exactly why Shigaraki does what he does because we see him as a human. However, Shigaraki is not human to hero society. 

Someone like Stain is more palatable, because his ideals are a warped version of Hero Society’s own. Rather than being someone who rejects the idea of heroes entirely, Stain merely says, I want the number one hero to be like All Might, pure and selfless. Every hero should be like All Might. Stain only rejects a certain type of hero, not all heroes in general, and not the way Heroes are given too much license and power in this society. 

Stain notices the flaws within hero society, however rather than addressing it as a societal issue, he believes if he kills a few posers then the real heroes will step up. Stain takes what is a societal issue, and wants people to take individual responsibility for it. Which is why he ends up taking it out on completely innocent people too. There are family legacy heroes who are just in it for the job, and the glory (cough, cough, Endeavor) but Tensei was not really one of them. It’s not really Tensei’s fault that all of hero society is corrupt,  at least not particularly more than anybody else is, he’s just a well meaning guy doing his job. 

This is why Stain’s actions can blur the line between justice, and personal revenge. Stain thinks that it’s okay to kill people in service of a cause, but in this case isn’t he just beating up someone who was otherwise a good guy because he wanted to someone else to take the blame for the ills of society? 

It’s true Stain will go as far as to spare, or even save those he deems as worthy, but at the same time it’s only ever on his personal value of worthiness. He also, only saved Deku from a nomu after his battle was already lost. When they were getting in the way of him killing Tenya, he was only a little bit relucant to try to kill both of them because they were in the way of his mission at the moment. 

So anyway those are all of Stain’s bad points. Stain emphasizes the exact same kind of survival of the fittest and individualism that only saves some people in hero society and damns all the rest in the first place. Stain’s good points, he actually did mean what he said. Stain genuinely believed his actions were going to make the world a better place. 

Stain called Endeavor a fake, he also insists on personal responsibility that he has to do something to be the one to fix society he can’t just pretend to be ignorant of it. Stain as we know was a hero student, but couldn’t stay a student when he began noticing all of society’s flaws. In a manga where most characters are ignnorant, the fact that Stain is one of the first characters to point out something might be wrong here, and then had to act on at least his personal sense of justice does mean something. 

Stain’s wors also managed to reach people and stif them up that there is “something wrong here.” They got a response out of people. Which as we’ve been seeing this arc is hard to do. The fact that villains are only evil because they choose to be is just so ingrained in things that it’s hard to shake off. 

So I’m going to list three ways Dabi primarily took after Stain. 

Televised Broadcast

Insistence on Personal Responsibility

Heroes Must be Pure

The reason Stain reached so many people is primarily because of the broadcast. It’s how we see it reached even Dabi himself who was apparently either just a minor crimminal, or living in hiding until that point. Dabi realizes that nothing is going to happen, no concrete change will happen, even if he’s right, unless he gets the public on his side.

This is also why even though Shigaraki has some points to make, almost no heroes listen to him. Shigaraki one does not know how to make his point in an understandable way, and two does not know how to play the game of public opinion. 

Dabi always mentions casting public doubt on heroes, and making a stir in thenews. As long as they get a foot in the discussion, they’ve won somehow. 

Stain reached so many people because his news coverage was a spectacle, and it sparked mass debate. Dabi has been aspiring for a long time to cause the same kind of spectacle and stirring. That’s why he intentionally lets Endeavor gets victories to build him up, that’s why he burns people and leaves them to be found to increase his own notoriety. He was creating a narrative to sell to the public, one that would be easily digestible. Taking inspiration from Stain, he wants to make another news blitz to throw everything into question. He wants to be just like Stain, seen as someone driven to villainry by their intense ideals, and their desire for a betterworld. 

In fact Dabi is even a lot smarter than Stain in some aspects. Stain attracted the wrong crowd. For the most part after the news story died down, the most people that came to the league were those not really invested in his ideals. However, here comes Dabi who knows exactly how to frame himself. Just look at the difference between the way he addresses other people, and the way he addresses Shoto and Endeavor. 

Dabi’s playing his cards as best as he can to create a narrative that will get talked about, because the greatest impact that Stain left behind is that he got the masses attention for a litlte white. 

Number two - Individual Responsibility

Just like Stain, Dabi takes everything on his shoulders, for good or ill. He’s a staunch individualist. In some aspects that means Dabi can’t ever leave well enough alone. There are some injustices he can’t forgive, so he goes out of his way to punish them. 

Part of what is happening really is just consequences for Endeavor’s actions. Something that both the rest of society, would have just let him get away with. Dabi, Stain as individuals, can’t swallow any kind of injustice, and can’t be quiet about the things they notice as wrong or hypocritical in their society. 

Hypocrite or not, I believe Dabi is moved by some kind of ideals, some idea of justice. One that easily overlaps with personal revenge, in the case of Stain, that can very easily branch out and beat up perfectly innocent people who have nothing to do with it besides the fact that Dabi is in a bad mood and wants to feel like he’s punishing an individual for the ills of society. 

For good or ill, Dabi does repeat Stain’s habit of purging as well. Like I said because of the overemphasis of personal resposnability, the belief that an individual has to overcome society all on their own (pulling themselves up by their bootstraps), if someone fails to meet Dabi and Stain’s sliding scale of standards, whoever they are, they may just decide it’s appropriate to murder them. 

This behavior also lashes out and hits people who were almost completely unrelated. Tensei gets hit by Stain’s purge. Dabi’s plan to invite Hawks into the league (probably to dig up dirt on him) ends up hitting Twice as well. 

However, there is also a strong sense of personal responsibility that should be noted. Dabi is like one of the only league members to express remorse over killing people. Not just live on television, but also to himself in the aftermath of the pro hero arc. 

There’s also a tragic element for this as well. Dabi’s decision that he has to do everything on his own, means he can’t open himself up to cooperation. He can’t accept the friendship, the sympathy, or the sense of community for the leaguethat’s been offered to him multiple times. Of course, it’s sadder for Twice because he’s dead. But at the same time Dabi can’t trust anyone, can’t work with anyone, it’s extremely unhealthy and self destructive behavior in the end. 

#Heroes must be Pure

Here is where Dabi and Stain differ a little bit. It’s also where Dabi differs from his brother Shoto. Both Stain, and Shoto were inspired to beieve that real heroes exist because they witnessed All Might. Shoto beliees even if his father is corrupt, he can become a hero like All Might which is the utlimate way to reject his father. 

For both Stain and Shoto, they can believe that good heroes exist because they have All Might as an example. As far as we know, Dabi doesn’t even seem to mention All Might. 

So for Dabi, we still have the idea that heroes need to behave a certain way, heroes need to be pure. He points out that Endeavor is a bad pillar because he’s not ideologically pure, he’s not a hero who saves others like All Might. He also believes like stain that if he culls the bad heroes, then the good heroes will rise up from that destruction.

However, I think Dabi himself may have trouble believing the idea that good heroes even exist. 

Dabi shares the same purity / stain motif with Stain himself. 

Once things are stained they’re impure. Impure things need to be cleansed. He can’t forgive the dirty past of either Endeavor or Hawks. He can’t let someone who has already dirtied their hands pretend to be a hero. 

However, I think Dabi goes a step beyond Stain in that Stain thought if he picked off a certain amount of heroes within the society then the good heroes will do better. Dabi must believe that there is no way for a hero to remain ideologically pure in this society. So, his attacks are levvied at the society that’s incapable of producing good heroes. 

Stain had a tendency to attack individuals while demanding ideological purity from them, Dabi has the same habits but he goes one step further and suggests that society is ignorant, that society needs to question whether these heroes it uplifts really are good people. 

Which is also what I think leads to what you said that Dabi treats Deku and Shoto differently than Stain would. Dabi can’t believe in real heroes, so he sees the kids aspirations to be a hero as proof of their ignorance. 

I would say he doesn’t think Deku or Shoto could be a true hero because one, he doesn’t see them as individuals, he looks down on them as kids. Two, he believes they blindly follow the false heroes. He even mentions directly he doesn’t really see Shoto’s individual will, or his desire to become a hero to save his mom. He just thinks Shoto is the perfect puppet Endeavor raised him to be. Dabi is unable to separate himself from Endeavor’s abuse of him, and therefore he’s also unable to separate the idea of Shoto from Endeavor. 

So yeah, that’s the best way I can explain it with “the vague approximation of Dabi” that canon has given us right now. Basically Dabi is pretty loyal to Stain actually, he follows Stain’s ideals to the letter,he copies his strategy, he even has the same flaws, individual emphasis, black and white thinking, blurry line between “sacrifice for a better society” and “vigiltante justice because I think I’m right.” 

The main differences come from either Dabi just seeing the UA kids as either kids who don’t know better, or blind followers in the system. (This makes sense if you realize Dabi is someone who was raised by a hero since childhood, not someone who just became a zealot like Stain). And Stain has All Might for his idea of a “pure hero” whereas Dabi either believes no good heroes exist period. Or no good heroes can exist in the current society. I hope that answered your question, nonny!

[someobscurereference]

For one: whenever the concept of the Nohrians meeting the young trio comes up, my first thoughts are 1) Inigo being cripplingly shy and terrified of Xander 2) Severa being Extremely Unreasonable and Aggressive especially toward Camilla and 3) Owain gravitating toward Elise because she's reminiscent of his mother, because he's a mama's boy who probably lost his mom very recently and that's pretty fucked up!!

That being said, I'm screaming at the idea of Owain gravitating toward Elise because mother, Xander because cool sword, and Camilla because cool armor, and Not Trusting Leo because he's a Dark Mage and Dark Mage Means Plegia Means Grima Means Evil (almost always) and Leo being so upset about it. It turns the tables entirely, where Odin was originally the one who thought both Leo and Niles were so cool and they thought he was a weirdo idiot until he proved himself, now he thinks they're creepy and Evil and have to work for his trust. And I will always love the Nohrians realizing the trio were Fucked Up Kids and the idea of them watching the three of them take down a faceless with Brutal efficiency because of how much more dangerous Risen were...I'm so into this. AND!! The trio fucking hating each other!! They're so used to them being Best Friends and Inseparable and understanding each other on a whole different wavelength. And now? Sev and Inigo aren't very kind toward Owain's dramatics, Sev and Owain are Bothered by Inigo's flirtations, and Severa is just so harsh with both of them (and most people). Of all the people they could be stuck with, they would Not choose each other. I'm rambling but I'm so into it I'm so so into it. One of the previous asks you linked spoke a lot about Inigo, but if you could talk a bit more about Severa and Owain? Especially if their adult selves were involved with their lieges and partner retainers and how different the dynamic is now and the way they each react when realizing the trio went through something so clearly screwed up and beyond even what they've seen

(prev ask) Ayyy, glad you got a kick out of all of that, lol. And yes!! Leo Trio origins reversed!! With Niles and Leo being the ones who have to prove themselves to Owain instead of the other way around. And the Trio not getting along!! They're 100% there to save each other when they think they're in mortal danger, but as soon as they realize they're not in Plegia? Don't touch me, don't breath on me, don't look in my direction, any of you. Owain & Inigo can't be alone in a room together or else they'll scuffle, Severa stomps away whenever Inigo tries to compliment her, nobody wants to talk to Owain, etc.

Also sure! I spoke a lot about Inigo in that last ask because I wanted to be clear about what I meant with the shyness thing, but for Severa & Owain...

I don't know if they would have been in romance with their lieges before this! I obviously ship the royals & their retainers, but I don't ever see the appeal of that dynamic in deaging fics? I get the idea of like "oh, this is a new side of my partner I've never seen before," but the deaging part is such a huge part of the plot that I don't really see the benefit to that dynamic in these types of fics.

But just in general! The friendship/platonic shift!

I mentioned before about Camilla trying to dote on little Severa but struggling because Severa rejects her So Hard, lol. In general she'd want to dote on Severa because of her personality and how Severa is a tiny version of her beloved retainer, but the more it becomes clear that Severa has issues (especially re: family, which is a major reason Camilla feels the need to dote on Corrin), the more she wants to spend time with her and make some happy memories with her. Which makes Severa's rejection of this attention even stronger bc who the hell are you to presume you know her? And also you're not her big sister/mom/whoever.

Eventually, I almost feel like Camilla would?? I don't want to say "give up," but eventually you're going to get more flies with honey than vinegar. By which I mean the less Camilla tries to push the relationship, the more open Severa might be to spending time with her. But I'm not sure Camilla would get to this point within the timeframe of the Trio being deaged! I think this would take many days or perhaps even weeks to figure out. If the Trio return to normal before this, I think Camilla might feel different (Hard to say how... maybe guilty??) about the way her Selena dotes on her and wants her attention all the time vs little Severa rejecting her. But!! If the Trio stay deaged for a while and Camilla learns to stop pushing the relationship, Severa may slowly grow to approach Camilla on her own and may then be open to being doted upon once they understand each other more (bc she canonically wants all the foods and fun stuff Camilla is offering; she just wants it from someone she trusts. And primarily from her parents ((see: awakening supports w/ parents)), but they're not here).

tl;dr Camilla would have to go against her doting instincts if she wanted Severa to get comfortable with her. Otherwise Severa would avoid her/take advantage of the things Camilla is offering while not wanting to be near her very much.

Re: Beruka!

Unlike Camilla, who has a lot of sad and sympathetic feelings for Severa, Beruka really leaves feelings out of it. Which is probably to her benefit in this scenario, as she's approaching Severa's trauma's from a logical (perhaps even detachedly relatable) standpoint rather than sympathetic. She's more direct than Camilla, so Severa might be a little more comfortable with her, just because she knows what to expect.

Severa, for her part, may even seek Beruka out once she knows they're partners because (1) she wants to know what sort of person her future partner is and (2) she wants to prove that she's the better retainer than Beruka. Which of course she can't do because (a) Beruka would never compare them like that, nor Camilla and (b) Severa is younger, more hotheaded, and less skilled than her older self, so anything she tries to prove now, she'll probably fail at and will blame on her older self having more experience. This competetive spirit may start as an inferiority complex thing, but with Beruka never really fanning the flames, Severa may eventually calm down about it and just feel more driven to get better on her own/respect Beruka as her partner (sort of like her Cynthia Supports in Awakening, though a little different).

Leo & Owain, I already talked about. Owain will immediately take note of the fact that Leo & Niles are his future lord & partner, which he is very curious about, but once Xander, Camilla, & the other very cool people with melee weapons come into the picture, he's very drawn to them, which makes Leo jealous, lol. Leo dedicates himself to "solving" the deaging issue, using this as an excuse so he doesn't have to spend time around Owain and get compared to his "cooler" siblings. HOWEVER, joke's on him bc the fact he's avoiding Owain means Owain doesn't get the chance to quiz him even more and tell him about how cool Brynhilder is. When this finally happens, Leo feels incredibly foolish for trying to show off for Owain & avoid him in turns. Owain, meanwhile, may or may not have ever picked upon on the fact Leo was feeling weird about him at all (although he will admit he felt nervous around Leo at first bc Pelgian Mage Memories and had to take time to get over that).

Niles is a little hard to consider because I actually think?? He'd be good with young/immature folk when he's genuinely trying to be? (See: Niles's interactions with Elise & Nina). However, he can also be quite cruel to people who don't really deserve it (See: Mozu C & B supports) despite having a motto of only insulting "people who deserve it," (Peri Support). So!! I think Niles's interactions with Owain ultimately come down to how well he respects Odin/how good their relationship was. If they were besties when Odin gets deaged, then I don't think Niles will purposely try to make Owain feel bad, though a lot of what he says with metaphors & double meanings will probably go over Owain's head anyway. I also don't know if he'd purposely go digging for information or not?? Depending on how much he feels asking would be a betrayal to Odin's trust vs his own curiosity and all the hints Owain doesn't realize not to drop?? I think Owain would really determine what Niles does or doesn't learn about him. They have the potential to have a really good talk where Owain talks about his parents' deaths and the struggles he & the kids are going through and Niels talking about his own life on the streets. (BTW, despite Owain literally going through a war & both parent death, I think he might think Niles has the worse situation bc he's never known parental love at all, which baffles Niles).

Similar to Leo, I think Owain would be really cautious around Niles at first, both because he's an intimidating sort and because he takes cues from how everyone acts around Niles too. But!! Also just like Leo, if his future self trusted them, obviously that means something, right? So he'd approach Niles a bit more after a few days of settling in.

Niles & Owain's interactions are really hard to imagine because they depend on so many factors that I haven't decided upon! But hopefully the other ones make sense, lol

Thanks for asking!

[mannien]

Mornings in Sheffield Park | TH - CHAPTER 1

The one with stress, takeout food around the world, late night walks, and Disney dreams.

Word count: 6.6k 

Warnings: some stress, some anxiety, mention of sex, and a lot of smiles

Masterlist

Fourth week into the morning pitch meetings at BBC, Millie felt lifeless and drained. The room was usually exploding with ideas, creative energy, and a lot of constructive feedback to the few interns who were allowed to join the conversation with editors, writers, and producers. That morning had started ugly enough for her: with an overwhelming number of e-mails about the schedule and missing content for Politics Live.

When she first landed her spot at BBC, Millie was over the moon. She was constantly calling it a dream come true, a once in a lifetime opportunity for her to begin a writing career in media. Her degree seemed to be the best choice for her future and Millie was ready to prove that graduating from humanities can actually land her a decent job. Her first days were filled with morning preparations, early commute to the city centre and exceptionally smoothed out shirts. The work environment in such a fast-paced industry felt inspiring and daunting at the same time, but Millie felt obligated to use this experience to its full potential. Each day she attempted to learn more than the day before and possibly show off a tiny bit more of her creative skills to her superiors. She spent her evenings researching topics and people, trying not to fall out of the loop. Being one step forward was hard work, one that Millie desperately wanted to ace.

The second week of her internship brought a slight shift to her agenda. After grasping the general concepts of working for a major radio and TV broadcasting company, she was aware of the production processes. She tried to happily follow up all the details about the work of a writer, a researcher, or an editor – just so she could be prepared for the follow-up of the introductory week. And as she hoped her interview was remembered and she would soon contribute to any program touching upon music or pop culture, her dreams and calls were slowly fading away. The intern manager ascribed her to the team devoted strictly to politics and daily news, having no vacancies for the popular radio programs. Even though she took whatever spot was offered, it was only to get more insight and experience.  

Having already managed to speak up a few times during the morning routines in the conference room, Millie eased herself into the work environment and was treated like a regular employee. But the first wave of success quickly passed, especially when she was hit with growing emptiness in her brain. She did not enjoy politics, so as far as she could, she attempted to sneak in a sociological aspect into the context. But her tactic had an expiration date.

A couple of heads were expectantly turned at Millie when she was unsurely stuttering her weak ideas for the upcoming programme. She knew it wasn’t going well and she was mentally cursing herself for trying to impress the producers that much so early on.

“This isn’t gonna work. We’ve covered this enough in the evening news. Let’s take five, and maybe you’ll come up with a different angle. I’ll give you another shot here.”

Hugh, the head writer took off his glasses and watched her fidget in her seat. She nodded and took a deep breath, before leaving the room for a short break. Her mind was racing in panic; she wasn’t ready to admit that she didn’t have any idea. She walked back and forth through the corridor until she cursed quietly and walked away to the main hall. She pulled her phone from the back pocket and without overthinking this anymore, she called her boyfriend. He picked up after the third ring.

“Babe, can I call you back…”

“No, Frank,” She felt determined and fierce. Her hands shook from the pure view on board members slowly coming back from the kitchen with fresh coffee mugs. They were probably waiting to hear her another take on the TV show which Millie, wholeheartedly, was beginning to hate. “My work on the programme is too basic and I’ve been roasted for the past fifteen minutes or so. Hugh has me in the spotlight in front of everyone. Help me, please?”

“It’s not your fault they’ve given you a job you’re not good at, babe. It’s just an internship, they will roast you anyway.”

Millie’s lungs were ready to stop working and suffocate her. She feared she might start hyperventilating, or at least meet up with a panic attack from the nerves. Franklin’s reaction seemed to be absolutely unfair and inconsiderate of her actual feelings, and he must have felt that through the piercing silence on the line.

“Look, I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t worry so much about it. They will probably just give you another placement where you’ll fit more, I don’t see why it’s such a bad thing.” And just like that, she started doubting herself and her right to overthink her situation. It didn’t sit well with Millie and she could feel anger slowly making its way through her veins.

“Can’t you just fucking help me? This one time?” She lost her temper, she lost her patience. At the same time Riley, one of the end writers, started waving at her from the end of the hall as to show her that her time is coming to an end. “I need a hook, or something that would spark a debate. Brexit-themed, maybe. Can you think of anything?”

Frank groaned loudly. He wasn’t exactly happy that she made him break down his ambitious wall and let her in on topics he was too invested in. Millie could hear him moving around as he left his desk of the equally large office of The Guardian, until the line went surprisingly quiet. Her anger and fear made her clutch her phone tightly to her ear, while her legs started carrying her slowly to the terrifying conference room.

“Think internationally. See what the Spanish had to say about May’s resignation from the Office. Think economics in the EU. Try to stand on the Union’s side and do some fair judgement.”

“Give me facts, not ideas. You’re the one who knows politics.”

“Spanish government says that May’s resignation is bad news. Compare it to the popular opinion that she was the worst Prime Minister since the 18th century and the American war on independence.” Millie breathed in, trying to desperately grasp all the details he just provided her with.

“That’s a… harsh and history-digging argument,” She mumbled in surprise, “where did you get that from?” She grabbed a yellow post-it note from the reception desk and quickly scribbled the key words on it. Her briefing on politics was never something like this and she could feel the embarrassment making its way into her heart. It wasn’t her way of thinking and she felt like a fraud.

“I can’t tell you that.” By the end of the single sentence Millie could feel the blood escaping her face, making her look pale and scared for dear life. She didn’t want to have heard that sentence, she was definitely happier not knowing how did he come up with a story like this. That was one of the many reasons she tried not to talk business with him.

“An opinion entry. A column for The Guardian. Shit, you just busted one of your colleagues.”

“Sometimes I hate it that you’re smart. Did I ever tell you that?”

“You just saved my internship!”

“Please don’t say that. I will pretend that we just talked about the weather.”          

“I’ll spend them the details. You’re the best, Frank.”

“Alright, go kick ass.”

And that she did. Franklin did save her internship, mainly because Millie avoided the specifics about who and why said something so harsh about the resigning Prime Minister. However, it definitely did spark interest among the production board. Afraid of not being so lucky next time, she decided to politely suggest a replacement for her permanent internship division within BBC, due to her ‘personal discomfort with discussions over issues of such importance and potential shame to their glorious country.’

Millie felt bad for using her boyfriend’s knowledge for survival at work. She wasn’t genuine and her idea didn’t come from her hard work - it was sourced in fear and anxiety-driven reactions. This situation proved to her that she wasn’t fit for the position, but it also raised her stress levels around the fact that she couldn’t get by on her own in the industry. She didn’t want others to navigate her through it all, but the conversation she had with Frank had also made her uncomfortable. Her need of support in a stressful situation was primarily turned down, so—naturally to her character—she started to worry even more.

With a heavy heart and two bags of Wagamama takeout, she walked up the stairs to his apartment. She was usually working until later hours than Frank, so all she really needed was for him to open the door for her. She leaned on the doorframe as she waited patiently for the two turns of the lock. He opened still in his work attire – tailored jeans and a light grey button up shirt. He was holding his phone next to his ear and humming approvingly to the speaker when he looked her up and down. He winked at her and let her in, as he continued to talk with someone.

Inside, Millie found the TV turned on with a football game playing. His work jacket was still hanging on the back of the tall stool in the kitchen, and the grocery bags laid unpacked on the table. She took off her shoes and made her way to the kitchen, where she made a little room for their food on the countertop. Pulling off her sweater, she peeked into the shopping bags – she wasn’t surprised to find a couple bottles of beer and food essentials, a multipack of tissues and a large box of condoms.

“What’s all this, babe?” Franklin came up to her and briefly kissed her on the lips, before looking into the boxes with deliciously smelling food.

“I just thought it might be nice to eat some goodies,” She smiled, trying to sniff out his mood first. He smiled back at her with approval and reached for the plates in the cupboard, so she continued, “also, it’s a ‘thank you for being my saviour today,’ kinda thing.”

“Ah, yeah. I bet everyone on my floor will hate BBC’s guts for that.” Frank said it so casually, with a shrug to follow up, that Millie struggled to understand the dynamic he had at The Guardian. He seemed to be a great fit for his team, because a week into his new job, he was already invited for Friday drinks and talked about his co-workers just like anyone would about their long-time friends. She couldn’t understand how was he getting so lucky at any step, but the last thing she wanted to do is doubt him. Any time worries and competitiveness clouded her brain, Millie was making extra room for compassion and support.

Frank unloaded some of the curry on his plate and started eating with a fork, and then made his way to the living room where he spread out on the sofa. He didn’t say anything else, somewhat scaring Millie that he will let her know he’s uncomfortable randomly, on a promisingly good day. Trying to figure out her brain, she followed his actions and took some extra food to the coffee table, before sitting down next to him.

“But you’re not gonna get into trouble for that, are you?” she was biting the inside of her cheek hard, definitely not used to not being judged for using someone else’s help.

“Nah, I don’t think so. They don’t know I’ve got a girl at BBC, so I should be just fine.”

Millie ate her curry in silence, suddenly at loss of words driven by his surprising statement. She didn’t want to raise an argument or seem overly sensitive. But for some reason she hoped that he would talk about her at work, especially considering his already formed strong bonds in the office, and a definitely higher success rate in his position. Ever so charming Franklin, he always glowed among people. She couldn’t really fight with this, so she just kept any comments to herself and focused on her food.

Frank switched the channel to the evening news and pulled her to his side once they were done eating. It comforted Millie to know that at the end of the day, they could both enjoy each other’s company, no matter what was happening at work. She didn’t pay much attention to the news, but rather focused on the way he reacted to it and what he enjoyed. She felt too tired to get invested in another load of politics, so she just soaked in his warmth and curled more into his side. He smelled of coffee and heavy, musky cologne that he liked to reapply frequently. Millie closed her eyes and breathed out the stress that weighed her down after a long day, finally finding peace.

“I’ll go grab a beer, you want one?” he abruptly stood up, making her slightly loose her balance and lean back towards the pillows. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips in a thin line.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“You sure? You’re awfully quiet today.” He spoke already from the kitchen, not even catching a glimpse of her pursed lips.

“I just need to wind down. It’s been stressful day.” She pushed a little smile on her cheeks as he came back with a frown. He took a few large sips of his drink and put it on the table, before lowering himself on the couch and leaning over Millie.

“I can help you relax, if you want.” He raised an eyebrow in a flirtatious manner, leaning into her and leaving a series of delicate kisses on her lips. He then moved onto her jaw and sucked on her skin, but never left a mark. Slowly massaging her waist, he slid his hand under her shirt and sprawled his fingers across her hip to pull her closer.

Millie enjoyed the warmth that started to spread through her body, but she couldn’t find any energy to give some of it back. She felt drained and exhausted, so a mere thought about participating in sexual activities was sure to make her at least slightly uncomfortable. Unless Frank was willing to change something about it.

“Okay, hold on,” her chuckle and a light push at his chest made him narrow his eyebrows in confusion, “I don’t think I’ve got enough energy today, Frankie.” Her whisper was followed by a reassuring smile. She weaved her fingers through his short hair and kissed the tip of his nose.

“What if I provide you with some energy first?”

“What, you’ll give me an energy drink?” She laughed at her poor joke and he chuckled, too, but more at her silliness than anything else. He laid her down comfortably and cautiously peppered her with kisses on her neck and the tiny bit of cleavage that was available without unbuttoning her shirt. She was slowly giving in, allowing him to get lower on her body and touch her. Frank either wanted to make her feel better, or was really horny. But whatever the case was, she didn’t want to stop him and ruin his enthusiasm. The glow in his eyes and admiration painted across his face were too intoxicating to back away. His touch was filled with sparks of emotions and a kind of drive that Millie was addicted to. She felt wanted and needed, and that’s what made her return the heated kisses despite her hooded, weary eyes.

They walked hand in hand through the chilly evening, sometime after she persuaded Frank to walk her to the nearest tube station. The wind was slightly tickling her neck, but other than that she felt at peace. She let her hair down, flowing gently with each blow of the air and lightly caressing her face like a safety blanket. They swayed their hands until they had to make room for a group of people passing by.

“Jane texted me about a little get together this Friday,” She mumbled into the night, trying not to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere around them.

“Ah, yeah. Aaron told me about it, too. I guess we’re going, right?”

“Yeah, it might be nice. The girls mentioned this new club near their apartment? I think that’s where they wanted to go.”

“Cool. I could use a little break.”

As they continued their walk, Millie mostly focused on leading the way through tight London streets. Franklin’s parents rented him an apartment in the city centre, close to everything you could dream of in London. It also meant crowded streets at any hour, so to have a nice walk around the neighbourhood usually requested it to be late at night. But it didn’t matter to him, as long as he had a short commute to the office and all other things that life requested from him, within reach. There were times when he would mention coming back to Manchester and supporting his parents at their law firm, but Millie saw how much he preferred his growing career as a journalist. Mathilda and William were a generous couple, so they shared their resources with him and tried to help him get into the business as smoothly as possible. Sometimes she wanted to ask him about his permanent position at The Guardian and whether his name had anything to do with it, but she never felt comfortable enough to do it. Some things were better left unspoken.

Reaching the staircase to the station, Franklin stopped and made her turn to him and look up at his smiling face.

“Thanks for coming over tonight. I had fun.”

“Yeah, me too.” She smiled shyly, nodding her head in reassurance.

“I wish you could finally move to the city, though. It would be so much easier if you were a few blocks away.”

“You do realize that even if I moved out, it wouldn’t be anywhere nearby?” Her chuckle resonated through her body, almost as if she wanted to humour herself at the topic that had started to come up more often in their conversations.

“I could ask around the office if anyone has a room available to rent.”

“But I don’t want to share my personal space with strangers, you know this. Don’t try to change my mind about it.” She smiled tightly.

Frank has been trying to persuade her into moving out for months. He wanted to be closer to her, within a short train journey, rather than a whole commute in and out of Kingston. He felt comfortable in the business of London, and Millie liked to call him out on being spoiled by having an apartment on his own in such a lively part of the city. But she wasn’t financially ready to leave her family home in equally comfortable Southwest London, where she had all she needed within her reach, and her social life was just a tiny bit longer train trip away. It was a source of their small disputes from time to time, because it was Millie who spent more time on going to his place and spending time there. Naturally, it made her feel more engaged in their relationship and Frank tried his best make up for the difference. But one thing that never occurred, was Millie staying over for longer than a night. Even a night’s sleepover was a rare event, somehow always blessed by excuses from either one of them.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he pecked her lips and brushed her cheek with his thumb. “I talk about it out of concern, okay?”

“Okay. But I like my train rides and I like Kingston. So let’s just deal with it for now, yeah?”

“’Course,” He sent her a tight smile before giving her one last kiss. “Text me when you get home.”

“Will do.”

Millie was one of those people who could be easily judged as thinkers. Years of taking trains and buses in and out of central London taught her to cherish every moment of peace she gets during her journeys. That’s how she learned to create playlists for each season – summer commutes were always different than autumn ones; they required different sounds and lyrical quality. Intense months during university semesters also showed her how to read fast between the stops and how to juggle standing on the tube and holding an open book without falling, as the train slowed and rushed every few seconds.

As she was approaching her station in Kingston, she stopped the music but kept her earphones in. A bunch of other people was hurrying to get out of the train and get home as soon as possible, but after leaving the station, she would have a lonely 15-minute walk to her neighbourhood, so she always tried to stay alert in the evenings. Getting on the sidewalk in the busiest area of Kingston, she closed her book and put it back in her backpack, pulled the jacket tighter around her middle and continued her steady walk.

The air was getting crispier with each minute outside. It was refreshing and calm, disturbed only by a few laughs from the pub across the street and two cars passing her by. She turned into one of the quieter streets, where the buildings were becoming shorter and more separated from each other. Brick fences and trimmed hedges adorned the concrete sidewalks on both sides of the street, illuminated only by a few lanterns. Most of the light was coming from the windows in a row of semi-detached houses that Millie has known for a good chunk of her life.

Right when she wanted to cross the street and take a right, she heard a subtle clicking of a dog collar and a leash. Soft padding from the back was slowly approaching her and becoming louder, as well as someone’s whistle.

“Tess, come here!” a hushed call didn’t disrupt the peace of the night, but rather added the familiarity that Millie adored. She slowed her walk and turned around, just in time to be met with lightly jogging blue Staffordshire Bull Terrier. She panted lightly with her tongue out and reached Millie’s legs, where she tucked her head and mewled timidly.

“Oh, and who do we have here?” Millie chuckled at the dog’s persistence in keeping close. She scratched her head and patted her on the back, “are you on your evening walk, Tessa? Is that right?”

“We didn’t mean to scare you, Millie,” Dominic reached them and sent Millie a kind and apologetic smile, “good evening.”

“Hi, it’s good to see you.” She beamed at the middle-aged man, whom she learned to adore like a family member.

“Likewise, yeah. Heading home?”

“I am, just got off the train.”

“We will keep you company, then. Is that alright?” He fixed his glasses and leaned down to attach the leash to Tessa’s collar. Millie’s insides warmed and her mind calmed down at the idea that she will get to spend a few minutes with a friend.

“Absolutely, thank you.”

“Ah, don’t mention it. I bet Tom would have my head, hadn’t I offered,” they chuckled at the mention of his son. Their laughter died off comfortably and escaped into the night air, while Millie reminisced about the caring nature of the Hollands. “How is it going at BBC?” he asked after a moment, letting her go first through a narrow passage.

“It’s… going,” she smiled shyly, not sure how to dress up her words. In Dominic’s company she always felt one step behind in her creative skills; his writing and comic abilities exceeded her capabilities, or so she thought. “but I feel like I’ve definitely hit an end with politics. I know it’s only been a month, but it’s just… it keeps on proving that I should be writing about something else.”

“Oh, it’s totally understandable. Rest assured, you’re not the only one stuck like this,” They turned the corner onto her street. “but I wish you luck there. They have some sensible editors, so I assume you’ll get a chance at something else as well.”

“I hope so. Today I asked them about switching departments and the intern manager told me she will think about it, so there is a tiny light.”

“Something will always work out. You’re smart, you’ll find your way there.”

Dom and Millie continued down the sidewalk, until Tessa stopped near the gate to Millie’s house. She sniffed the pavement and turned back to the girl who crouched down to pet the Staffy one last time.

“Thanks for walking with me,” her smile was genuine, coming straight from her heart. “please say hi to Nikki and the boys. Is Sam still home?”

“He is, he starts his practice at the end of June. So, we all will be here to celebrate your birthdays.”

“Oh, that’s great! It’s been a while since we’ve all been together.”

“That’s true. But you’re welcome to stop by anytime.”

“I know, thank you.” With fondness painted across her face, she scratched Tessa’s ear and stood up straight, reaching for the keys in her pocket.

“Have a good night.”

“You too. Bye, Tess!”

Whenever she got the chance to interact with someone from their family, Millie instantly felt their love and care penetrate her straight to the core. It was this kind of relationship that had been built through the years, only making it stronger and bringing it closer to the concept of family.

Nikki, Dom’s wife and Anna, Millie’s mother met shortly before Millie and Tom were born. At first only neighbours, soon they became best friends to the point of engaging their families in a kind affair. Greetings at the doorstep turned into late night family dinners and weekends away with the kids. They were used to spending most of the birthdays and holidays together, especially when Millie and Tom’s birthdays two days apart brought them all closer. She raced her best friend in Anna’s womb and came out to this world right before the brown-haired boy. Ever since the Beavers celebrated the birth of their third and youngest daughter, the Hollands began their journey with four boys. They always stayed close and treated each other like family, deeming it necessary to nourish their friendship and turn it into something everlasting. The example of their parents taught Millie and Tom to mimic the closeness and made them create their own little world.

Millie’s older sisters also treated Tom, Harry, Sam and Paddy like brothers, but not as much as Millie did. Samantha and Liz were already grown toddlers when the families got together, so they figured more as the female patrons of their youngest sister and her adventures with the boys. But Millie and Tom’s friendship turned into something so effortless and harmless that no supervision was necessary. They were each other’s partners in crime, best friends from next door. Their mothers had signed them up for the same dance classes, helped them get to the same summer carnivals, and let them have late nights in makeshift dens. Millie was one of the first people their dog, Tessa, got familiar with. She missed him dearly when he started his journey as a young actor, but Nikki made sure he always made the time to call his best friend when the time zones were somewhat cooperating. They nurtured their friendship through Millie’s education and Tom’s career, not stopping even for a moment. He was there for her always, carrying her home when she scratched her knee after falling off the slings. She would help him with homework whenever he felt too embarrassed to ask his parents. Tom escorted her home from her disaster of a prom; he was the first one to understand her anxiety and help her through it. And Millie always read the books and scripts Tom needed to prepare for auditions. Just like that, they always found home in one another.

           Their house smelled of baking and freshly watered plants. As quietly as possible, Millie took off her shoes and tip-toed into the kitchen, turning on only the least invasive, small lights. She put down her backpack and lightly stretched, letting out a tired, yet content breath. Her eyes scanned the kitchen in search for the source of the sweet scent, and there it was, on a cooling rack in the corner, covered with a tea towel – fresh lemon sponge cake, the favourite of Millie’s mother. Lightly dusted with powdered sugar, it added an extra layer of sweet comfort to the late night’s atmosphere. She left the cake untouched, but put the kettle on to quickly make herself a cup of tea for a good night’s sleep. She let out an overwhelming yawn and rested her hips on the side of the countertop, patiently waiting for the water to boil.

           She felt her phone vibrate in the back pocket of her jeans. The brightness of the screen was almost blinding, until it adjusted to the low lighting in the room. She could feel the anticipation growing in the back of her head as she noticed a new message.

           (Tom) I got you something today

           After a second or two, a picture loaded under the message. Millie gasped and smiled like mad, when he showed her a pair of Minnie Mouse sequin ears. It was an artefact that Millie has always dreamt of, not having an opportunity to go to Disneyland ever in her childhood.  She awaited the chance with high hopes and wandering mind, but she knew the trip had to be thorough, well-planned, and wholesomely happy.

           (Me) You were in Disneyland????

           (Tom) yeah we did promo for spidey today 

           (Me) I’m so jealous rn

           (Me) THANK YOU FOR THE EARS!!!!!  

           (Tom) it’s alright

           (Tom) I didn’t get any weird looks at all

           (Tom) Just casually carried around this shiny sparkling beauty

           (Me) I bet you loved this feeling

           (Me) I bet you bought yourself a pair too

           (Tom) Don’t tell anyone

           (Me) You could always pretend they’re for Tessa

           (Me) I just saw her and your Dad btw

           Whenever her and Tom texted, it always sparked a never-ending conversation about sweet nothings. They mocked each other, talked about their days, spoke about all things home. It allowed them a safe space from their daily hustles; Millie was able to breathe lightly and happily, and Tom had a chance to detach from the world he desperately tried not to drown in.

           Almost spilling the tea, she slowly made it upstairs without losing the sight of her phone screen. She struggled to turn off the lights in the corridor without making a noise but somehow, she managed not to disturb her parents too much, as she reached her bedroom. Safe within her own little space, she put down the mug and let go of her backpack and jacket. She threw herself on the softest bedspread and waited patiently for Tom’s reply.

           The text bubble stopped and a massage didn’t appear, but her phone started ringing. Millie answered the FaceTime call and waited for the camera on his phone to adjust and show his familiar face.

           “I had a meeting with Disney and they want me to participate in one of their projects for a Marvel-themed ride at Disneyland,” from a crooked angle she could see his neatly gelled hair and uneven eyebrows. Tom was walking somewhere, but then sat down and perched his phone on the mug that stood on the coffee table, so that she could see him better.

           “That’s exciting, right?”

           “Oh, yeah!” She could see him rummage in a brown paper bag and pull out a box with some takeaway food. “But I’m telling you this because we could turn it into our Disneyland trip that you’ve wanted, right?”

           “That would be nice, yeah.” She smiled back at the screen, but a terrible yawn sneaked in to her expression. Tom scrunched his forehead and took a large sip from a bottle of water.

           “I didn’t wake you up now, did I?”

           “No, I just came back home. I am tired, though.”

           “Yeah? How was work?”

           “Stressful and not nice. It wasn’t a good day.”

           “Oh, I’m sorry. Wanna talk about it?”

           Tom spent the next minutes carefully listening to her words and trying not to spill his soup on his fresh clothes. He hummed to some of the stories and asked little intrusive questions, to get the whole picture. She kept rubbing at her eyes and stifling her yawns every now and then, at last making a mess of her mascara and getting it all over her skin. Despite the seriousness in her voice, Tom smiled fondly to himself at the view of her ruined face that probably mimicked her current mental state. It wasn’t something he should laugh about, but it was rather endearing to have her so comfortably sharing her lows with him, while he casually ate his lukewarm, very late lunch.

           “Why are you laughing at me?” She returned his smile, knowing it was probably something she did.

           “You made yourself look like panda.” He chewed on a chunk of chicken from his second plate. The wrinkles by his eyes deepened with each of her chuckles and proved to them that this is the lightness they need in their daily routines. “Well, it’s good you asked for a new placement. You should be comfortable in your work environment. I’m proud of you.”

           “Thanks,” she yawned again and stopped herself mid-rubbing her eye again, earning a wholesome, groggy laugh from her friend, “your dad thinks they will give me another chance.”

           “I mean, he knows some people there, so he probably has a point.”

           “Yeah, I just don’t want to get my hopes up too high, you know?” A comfortable silence rested between them after he nodded and continued munching on his food. Millie stood up from her bed and took the phone with her, but also started to slowly get ready for the night.

           “You will know when the moment feels right and shows you something worth a shot. Trust yourself, Mills.”

           “I guess…” she trailed off, making her way to the closet to find fresh pyjamas. “I’m glad my panda face entertained your… what is it, lunch break?”

           “Sort of, yeah,” he chuckled, enjoying the playfulness of her tired self, “I should be coming back in two weeks. We could hang out then, if you’ll have the time.”

           “Oh, for sure.”

           “Alright, I’ll let you rest. Text me anytime, yeah?”

           “I will. Thanks for the Minnie ears!”

           “You got it, Minnie Mouse. Sweet dreams.”

                                                          *  *  *

After her little mishap with Politics Live, Millie tried her best to keep up the hard work, but stay low. She tried not to focus too much attention and just assist other workers in their tasks, only coming up with ideas when necessary. She strived to come back to her public voice, but she knew she needed it to have a comfortable outlet, preferably in another setting and on different topics. She was greeting the intern manager with additional caution and kindness, trying her best not to leave her case forgotten.

Segregating files for the research team seemed to be the best solution to her temporary creative break. Her attention to detail and wholesome care about the task being done to its full potential came in handy. She volunteered to help the group of meticulously scribbling and researching men in keeping their documents in order.

The soft mumble of the radio in the background was interrupted by a guy named Tim. He always wore rock band t-shirts under his jackets and Millie swore she had seen him participate in a wild dance routine during the last year’s Glastonbury Festival. He stopped typing on his keyboard and started to quietly hum a song that was definitely different to what Scott Mills was announcing on Radio 1.

“Oh my God, do you guys know this song? I can’t get it out of my head!” he groaned in frustration, making a few people in the open space office chuckle.

“Do you know any words, maestro?” Millie’s head snapped up at the sound of Kim, the intern manager’s voice. She was passing by with a bunch of files and a coffee, before she perched herself on his desk, obviously making fun of her friend.

“It’s got this very cool, mariachi-like trumpet between the lines,” he mimicked a trumpet player and hummed some more, “and the guy sings something about stopping a feeling…”

“Justin Timberlake?”

“You know he’s not my jam, Kim! It’s an old-school song.”

“You’re the old-school one here.” Kim’s comment earned a couple more laughs at poor Tim, who was genuinely struggling. “you’re the researcher, have you googled it?”

“Of course I googled it, stop mocking me! People are watching.”

Their little light-hearted exchange brought a breezy atmosphere to the office and made Millie smile some more. She kept on looking up at Tim to check if he’s found the song he was looking for, but without luck. Her fingertips started to tingle with each swipe through the pages in a file, because she felt like she knew the song. Deciding to come against her decision to lay low, she gently cleared her throat and swallowed her nerves of speaking up in a new environment.

“Hey Tim, have you tried to find it on Spotify?” they both looked at Millie with playful smiles, as anyone would to the up and coming intern fresh out of university.

“I don’t think it’s the title of the song, so I won’t find it there.”

“But you actually could,” she offered, biting her lip nervously “since the recent update, you can now type in the lyrics into the search bar and the results will show you all licensed songs with the same or similar lyrics.” Tim instantly reached for his phone and started typing away.

“Oh really? I didn’t know that, let’s see…” Kim looked into his phone and watched his progress.

“And since you’ve remembered a catchy verse, it’s very possible that others also tried to find this song through the same words. So, it will probably come up within the first few results.”

“Alright, smarty.” He shook his head in amusement. Millie watched as Kim’s face got ridden of any emotion and just stared at Tim’s work.

“But if nothing comes up, you can always try ‘Hooked on a Feeling’ by Blue Swede.”

Millie waited with racing heart at their reactions. Tim clicked on one of the results and raised the volume, filling the room with a sound so familiar to Millie’s memory. She smiled shyly and internally patted herself on the back, before coming back to her task.

           “How did you know this song?” His triumphant smile was radiating, as he did a little dance in his seat and twirled on his rolling chair. “It’s such an old tune, I didn’t think your generation would know it!”

           “Yeah Millie, how did you know?” Kim encouraged his question and watched her carefully, almost as if she was studying her intern.

           “It’s in the soundtrack to Guardians of the Galaxy. I wrote a paper on it.”

           “Hm.” Kim’s unreadable expression was giving Millie chills, but in a positive way. She liked to be asked about things that interested her and prompted her to be creative, so the way this situation evolved was close to burst her heart into passionate flames. “I’ll ask the Radio managers if they want a music and pop culture geek, how’s that sound?”

           It sounded like Millie put the trust in herself at the right time.  

****

tagged: @peeterparkr @katieraven @kozybear@sunsetholland @hey-marlie @lauras-collection@cunaeparker @constellationsv @heyhihellowhatsup0 @spideyspeaches

If it bothers you that you’re tagged, please let me know!

[caiuscassiuss]

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/n@sinochen.com, dongsicheng@sinochen.com, wangfeihong@sinochen.com… 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: daiyuxiao@sinochen.com

Re: Important Office Notification — 

To: y/nl/n@sinochen.com

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...

[autumnwritesjojos]

spaceygracey said:Hi there!!~💕🥰 How do you think the each of bucci gang boys would want to spend a lazy with their s/o 💕😘

a/n: hiii gracey!! thank you for sending a suggestion! i had a lot of fun thinking up of things these dorks would do with their s/os, i hope you enjoy!

Bucci gang and their s/o on a lazy day

Don Giorno Giovanna

Technically speaking, Giorno doesn’t have “lazy days.” Being the Don of Passione requires Giorno’s full and undivided attention, he just simply doesn’t have time off like he used to when he was younger. He’s also very goal-driven, he will not stop until his dreams have come to fruition.

That being said, those lazy days have strictly moved to what he likes to call “vacations.” Also known as: he likes to mess around with people sometimes and call off a day to relax simply because he can. Got a day full of meetings and doesn’t want to deal with them? He’ll tell Mista to hold them off for tomorrow. Besides, a day off with you sounds wonderful right now.

Giorno would stroll with you in Naples, partly to see how much the city’s changed since he became Don and also to be with you again. He’s got a pretty big sweet tooth, especially for chocolate, so he knows the local sweets shops by heart. He never got to indulge when he was a child, so he wants to take advantage of that whenever possible.

He’ll gladly share anything he buys with you. Normally he’s keen on keeping them to himself but he’ll make an exception for you. Mista gets upset about it all the time because he always wants a bite.

However, his favorite part of all is the beach. Very big on nature, always has been. He loves the sound of water hitting the sandy shores of Naples as the two of you converse over whatever’s been on your mind. He just enjoys being in your presence.

Bruno Bucciarati

For Bruno, catching him on a lazy day is rare. As Capo, he has to keep up not only with his work but also his appearance, which unfortunately bleeds into his daily life. The man’s worth ethic is ridiculously high too, so it’s difficult to get him to take a day off.

With his s/o, he’s more willing to take a day off to catch up with himself and focus on you two more. He’s an early riser, so he’ll go ahead and make breakfast for you.

Fishing is his biggest comfort hobby. Besides, it’s what he’s grown up with, the inner workings of fishing are nothing but natural to him.

He'll definitely want to show you how to fish, he gets oddly eager when he talks about fishing. You’ll see him all decked out in fishing gear. It's so different from his usual attire, yet he's looking at you gleefully like he's a kid all over again. It’s a good change of pace.

Bruno will gently guide you with his hands, sensual touches are everything to him. If you catch something, he acts like you just won the lottery. He'd tell you all about the fish too, he knows the fish in Naples like the back of his hand.

Leone Abbacchio

Abbacchio will refuse to leave the house. He doesn’t even want to see people. You know it’s a lazy day for him when you walk into the kitchen to get breakfast and you see him already there: messy hair, no makeup, and a cup of coffee in hand.

He’s normally so uptight about his appearance, seeing him in this state lets you know that he can be vulnerable around you. Abbacchio trusts that he can be genuine with you in private, so he’s more willing to have lazy days with you.

He doesn’t really have anything particular in mind either. Whatever he’s doing during the day depends on you. You want to stay in bed all day and bang? No problems there. Anything low maintenance is fine with him, just don’t make him clean.

Abbacchio would love to do his makeup with you. Drinking a glass of wine, messing with each other’s faces while a cheesy 80’s movie plays in the background is the perfect lazy day for him. He would order takeout, there’s no way he’d be in the mood to cook something.

In the evening, he’d want nothing more than to cuddle with you on the couch quietly while playing records, usually opera or relaxing music. He likes to be the big spoon, arms wrapped around your waist tightly to secure you. Eventually, the two of you would drift off to sleep in each other’s arms peacefully.

Guido Mista

Mista would not want to get out of bed unless he really had to. He'd rather be with you and just talk about whatever's on his mind, which are usually random ass theories about food or something.

He’d rub your back, hold you close, plant a couple kisses here and there. He craves your touch, which you happily comply. In the middle of his rambling he’ll suddenly go, “You know I love you so much, right?”

Mista’s also going to be pretty much wearing nothing but his boxers the whole day, can’t be bothered to change. He’s still very warm though.

If by chance you two do get out of bed, he’s sticking by your side. He’ll also order takeout for you both or eat leftovers you both had, since neither of you are in the mood to cook anything.

You two would be lounging on the couch while watching a movie, Clint Eastwood. He’s very big on cuddling, always has his arm around you, just quietly enjoying the movie and your time together.

Narancia Ghirga

Narancia LOVES lazy days. This man sleeps in until noon for sure, and he’s gonna be out. He’s stuck to you like Velcro too, there’s no getting out of his grasp.

Once he is awake, he sounds so sleepy it’s absolutely adorable. He’ll groan if you try to move, you’re practically his personal heater. He’ll say something along the lines of “Can we just stay in today…? Please?” which you cave in because he was just so damn cute, you couldn’t say no.

Expect you two not to leave his room much. Aside from getting food from the kitchen, you two will be either playing video games or he’ll show you some tricks he learned on his guitar. He still wants to show you that he’s a cool guy, after all.

That’s where he likes to win you over in bets, everything is a bet. One moment he’ll say, “Betcha I can beat this level in less than a minute” and the other he’ll go, “Betcha I can catch this popcorn in my mouth”, he’ll even say something like “If I win this round I get a kiss.”

He may not win all the time, but he knows you love him regardless! He’s just happy he has someone to cheer him on.

Pannacotta Fugo

Fugo usually takes his days off to catch up on things he’s been meaning to do, which typically consists of cleaning, reading, or catching up on the news, local or national. He needs something to keep his brain active, so he’s always looking for new things to learn.

One of those new things he’s been meaning to grasp is cooking. That’s where you come in to help! Maybe he could learn a thing or two with you. It gives him something good to focus on rather than dwelling on potentially harming others.

He will get pissed if he’s not fully understanding a recipe. Luckily, you’re patient with him so things can calm down before it gets worse. He trusts your judgment too, so thankfully he listens to you.

Sooner or later, the dish is finished, and it didn’t turn out that bad! Fugo’s pretty pleased with himself, and happy that you had a good time learning the recipe with him.

Afterwards, you two would have a little book club. Both of you would pick a book to read and have a chat about it later. Fugo loves hearing your thoughts, good or bad. He’s glad he gets to spend his time with you doing the things he loves, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[rucow]

massive nerevoryn hcs, beware

I have nerevoryn brainworms that torment me day and night, so I answered this ask game under the cut (I did this for myself not for anyone else, pls be nice and ignore it if u don’t like something you see here!)

(A lil clarification: I headcanon Voryn as nonbinary and I use they/them pronouns for them, also they’re ace and afab in my hc, pls look away if that makes u uncomfy) • How did they first meet? They met when Nerevar was hopping from House to House to ask to be supported as Hortator, he just kinda showed up at Voryn's home outta nowhere and was met with 38237 identical serious Dagoth siblings. I can’t think about it without laughing dgsfh

• What was their first impression of each other? Voryn thought Nerevar a fool at first, for coming all the way to Kogoruhn just to ask for political support and to justify /why/ he should be politically supported However, Voryn saw almost instantly that Nerevar was genuine and driven and had strong ambitions for Resdayn, and they ended up agreeing on a lot of things. Meanwhile, Nerevar's first impression of Voryn was...kinda non-existent? He didn't pay much attention to them and didn't differentiate much between Voryn and their siblings. They were all just a bunch of polite goths to him, so he liked them from the beginning 😹

• Did any of their friends or family want them to get together? Voryn's family was neutral and maybe a lil cautious, but ultimately didn't interfere at all and they quickly accepted Nerevar as part of their family Nerevar has no family, though I consider Vivec to be his family in some way. But no, Vivec didn't really want them to get together :') (he didn't like Voryn very much in the beginning, he thought they're boring, too serious, and has no sense of humor LOL but he warms up to them after a while.. he won’t stop messing with them tho, bc they’re rly easy to tease and that’s fun) • Who felt romantic feelings first? Voryn did. Nerevar's feelings only started ages later, he's not really the type to sit down and analyze/reflect on his feelings, so he didn't realize he had romantic feelings until they hit him full force LOL • Did either of them try to resist their feelings? Voryn tried, but gave up and opted for hiding their feelings instead of suppressing them 😔 • If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think? They would believe it. Nerevar wouldn't immediately assume it means "romantic soulmate" though, he already sees Voryn as a very close friend so the news that they're soulmates makes perfect sense to him. On the other hand, Voryn wouldn't be surprised to find out they're soulmates, but they'd feel like it's a cruel thing to do to them both, since they can't be together openly and in the way that they want to be. It would be heartbreaking to them :’/ • What would their lives be like if they had never met? Voryn's life would've remained quiet and uneventful, most likely. And they wouldn’t have ended up the way they did in canon.  Nerevar is an unpredictable mystery though so I have no idea, maybe he'd go down a different path and take some impulsive bad decisions in his life 🤔 oh wait he already does that nvm • Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go? Nerevar initiated it. Voryn has had feelings for him for a very long time, but at first they didn't want to be in a relationship with Nerevar due to how complicated it would be, but yeah...they couldn't ignore their heart's call, and definitely couldn't refuse Nerevar when he started returning the feelings :') • Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like? YEAH!! I have no idea though! It would've been secret but very nice and romantic :'D • What was their first kiss like? It was intimate, and heavy. It was packed full of years of suppressed feelings and wishes. Voryn may have teared up a bit lmao • Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)? Nerevar has already had relationships (though nothing long-term) and has had...experience with ppl, in all meanings Nerevar WAS Voryn's first everything though! Mainly because Voryn has never had much interest in ppl before, and just the thought of kissing grosses them out, unless it’s with the right person ofc uwu • What’s their height difference? Age difference? Nerevar is 6'1 and Voryn is 5′6-5'7, they're the same age though! • What’s their relationship with each other’s families? Nerevar likes the dagoths. They don’t pry into his business (ahem, affair*) with Voryn and they always welcome him to Kogoruhn with no problem (aka they tolerate his out-of-nowhere appearances and occassional odd behavior). He finds it a bit unsettling that Voryn has so many siblings but he doesn’t question it. Voryn tries to get along with Vivec, even tho the younger makes it difficult. Voryn is an older sibling, so they have the patience to deal with a younger moodier mer who’s hellbent on disliking them for no reason LOL • Who takes the lead in social situations? Nerevar does, Voryn is really awkward at socializing and hates doing it too 😹 • Who gets jealous easier? They both do, but their jealousy manifests in different ways. Nerevar is much more vocal/open about it. Voryn doesn't give him any reasons to be jealous tho, at least not on purpose 🤧 • Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear? UHH neither of them does 😳 ...unless they've been drinking, then they both do it fjdhsn (Voryn won’t say anything explicit tho, just rly cheesy declarations of love or something SOBS) • Who said “I love you” first? Voryn said it first, but only after Nerevar had already confessed his feelings :’) they needed to be sure they wouldn’t get rejected bc that would just break their heart tbh • Who uses cheesy pick-up lines? Both do, but they mean it in all seriousness, and they believe every word the other says. • How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA? PDA is a big no-no for obvious reasons, unless it's only around trustworthy ppl like Alandro Sul and Voryn's family. Yes, Alan my boi is chill with all of this hehe • Who initiates kisses? Nerevar. He's very touchy uwu • Who’s the big and little spoon? Nere's the big spoon, usually. Voryn's like...a stick...though they can get clingy in their sleep /sobs • What are their favorite things to do together? Having time to spend together is rare for them, so they treasure every little moment they have. They both prefer spending time completely alone with one another, somewhere far and secluded where they can’t see or hear any other people. Nerevar needs moments of quietness to recharge after dealing with so many ppl in his daily affairs, so he really appreciates Voryn’s company bc their energy is very calming and they’re just quiet and pleasant in general.... they’re the type to sit in comfortable silence and just lean on one another as the world fades around them :’) • Who’s better at comforting the other? They know each other very well, so they're both amazing at comforting each other, except it's a lot easier for Voryn to comfort Nerevar solely because Voryn isn't as open about their emotions as he is, and doesn't want to worry Nerevar with anything, so they keep their emotions/pain private much more than Nerevar does. Nere's more open about things that bother him and spills his soul out to Voryn often lol • Who’s more protective? Oh gosh they are both overprotective of one another, they live dangerous lives after all. However, Voryn's the type to get physically sick by worrying over Nerevar's well-being... Nerevar doesn't handle it any better tho, he would become very spooky and destructive if anything happened to Voryn 👀 • Do they prefer verbal or physical affection? Nerevar prefers verbal affection from Voryn, because he knows Voryn’s words are always truthful. Voryn prefers physical affection from Nerevar though, because they know he uses verbal affection with a lot of people, so the physical kind feels more personal and genuine to them u_u • What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise? ... I must warn u. my taste in music is maybe TOO happy/sappy for these two, but anyway.. here u go (all these songs are from Voryn’s POV): 1. the lyrics and overall aesthetic and feel of this song.. it suits them in my hc a lot :’( 2. by the same singer, this song HHNGN the lyrics just make me think of how voryn sees nerevar 3. something even more light-hearted... sorry there’s no eng subs but trust me the lyrics are beautiful, the bridge especially makes me cry it’s so pretty.. and 「美しい心を持っている、ずっとこの海よりも深い」 😭 BASICALLY ANY LOVE SONGS MAKE ME THINK OF THEM 😭😭 • Who remembers the little things? Voryn's memory is impeccable. Nerevar is kinda airheaded, he doesn't remember things consciously but he remembers them in his heart • If they get married, who proposes? Voryn does! Though it's not a typical proposal, because their relationship isn't typical either. They simply propose that they both should undergo a ritual to bring them (more specifically, their souls) closer together... It’s the same ritual that Voryn’s mother did to their father, and they learned it from her before she disappeared/passed • What’s the wedding like? Who attends? It's a secret one, so no one attends it besides the two. It's not a wedding though, it's more like a romantic ritual conducted by Voryn themself, where they link their souls/hearts together :') it happens at nighttime in a secluded place, probably a cave with an open sky... somewhere in nature far away from any civilization • How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like? They have one very rambunctious but sweet daughter! She inherits a LOT of Nerevar’s looks and personality, even his ideals and stuff (once she grows up) • Do they have any pets? Nerevar doesn't have any, but he loves animals. Voryn's home has plenty of domestic animals/creatures though, much to Nerevar's joy 👌 (yes I hc the dagoths to be farmers bc I love the thought of a goth farm) • Who’s the stricter parent? Voryn. Though they're still very mild, just. more cautious about parenting than Nerevar is?? And unlike him, they actually teach their kid manners djfnsf • Who kills the bugs in the house? VORYN. They have no fear of bugs and actually know how to handle them really well! • How do they celebrate holidays? Not together :'( </3 • Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning? Voryn. Nerevar's an early morning person, while Voryn just wants to be lazy and stay in bed until noon. Voryn has sleepy b* disease • Who’s the better cook? Dare I say both??? >:)c Voryn likes baking more than cooking though, so when they have the time for it, they like treating Nerevar with sweets u_u✨ Nerevar doesn’t really have a sweet tooth though, he’ll just engulf anything that Voryn or their family cooks LOL