#but I was advised to do so by a much more experienced coworker | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

In 2020, Tumblr had 29.4 million users in the US.

#but I was advised to do so by a much more experienced coworker

aita-blorbos · 9 months

Note

AITA for wanting to take my coworker's spot?

So I'm (42m) a reporter who works for a news broadcast, which in all honesty isn't doing too hot as of now, but we manage.

Our main anchorman, T (46m), isn't all that fit for his job. He's incompetent at times, greedy as they come, (I am no saint but I at least keep it off the channel most of the time, and horse race bets are kind of a genetic thing for my family) and his own nephew (15F) outdoes him in every way, he doesn't even treat our producer properly (he's kind of a loser so I don't respect him much either, but I'd still like to use it as a point).

In the meantime, I do great reports involving ecological and historical topic, including noise pollution and wildfires, and I've also been on the verge of death multiple times because of these reports, I've been starving on the desert, threw myself into a river full of crap and had to go undercover to bust an endangered animal trafficking ring once.

Also, to add to my point, we just did our "best of" award and T slammed the fall board into my fingers multiple times (Well, the last ones were necessary but only because of the first one, which I advised him to not touch the board multiple times and yet he did).

As you see, I do far more work than T, so I think I deserve that spot, I am more experienced and professional.

This has been AITA, am I the asshole?

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

8 notes · View notes

ecoamerica · 2 months

Text

youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

17K notes · View notes

longeyelashedtragedy · 4 months

Text

lampard life update

just got the sweetest message from a Very Experienced Social worker i worked with. censoring things that identify the specific place i worked, and my name bc i fucking HATE my name and would rather pretend it didn't exist:

basically this is the kind of feedback i've been getting for the past almost 24 hours--my phone's been blowing up between coworkers and people who work for the City Government (TM). i talked shit on the phone with said Dana this morning (who is...amazing and this very passionate jewish lady who totally plays into my Mommy Issues and she wants to meet me for coffee) and she said she'd act as a reference and gave me some interesting job tips. mind you, i've only known these people since october.

-as i said to protect daniel james i've applied to more jobs in the past 12 hours than frank lampard has applied to in the past 7 months! people are like "you should rest and relax" and like yeah, but i'm not young enough to be on my parents' health insurance anymore and as marieke said, being unemployed in america is scary. being close to broke in nyc is terrifying! i'm stressed as fuck but also never have to enter that trauma pit with the Evil Boss again?

-i was crying last night not even because of me but because of thinking of all the people i work with and support who i didn't get to say goodbye to and i don't know what they will do without my support cause i have no idea who tf will replace me. and whoever does, isn't going to know the context of how to help these people. i literally called some people of my own volition today--i still have access to the city databases that i use--and will have some more calls monday. i cared. i fucking loved my job in terms of the actual duties and responsibilities, and i was GOOD at it when i wasn't being traumatized by, as my New Job Work Bestie said on the phone last night, "a stupid evil cunt." if the shoe fits lol. like literally there are people whose timesheets i sign on fridays and i have no idea who the fuck else can sign them and how will they get paid!!!!! i was frantically texting them at like 11 last night because fuck! that's not fucking right if people don't get paid bc of this evil woman!

-people are advising me to lawyer up and lawyer parents are looking into it. they messed with the wrong bitch! the reason why i am possibly pursuing this is because at the time of my termination~ i had already opened the process of an ADA (americans with disabilities act) accommodation request, feat. a letter from my psychiatrist discussing my PTSD, which is not like. A fun thing to discuss multiple times with multiple people at work, and yet i did. Because i wanted to try to make it work, and all i fucking asked for was to be moved to another job location. My job has around 50 locations. In no universe is that a difficult request, plus, i was asking for a like secondary thing instead which was--fucking staff the vacant position at my job so i was no longer one person doing a two person job.and WEIRDLY, on wednesday i was just told that i WAS getting another person--on monday! she's someone i vaguely know, and we had an amazing zoom talk yesterday afternoon--so like. wtf? the famous dana (see above) said that at the least we could bully them into a better severance package if they were afraid i would sue. The place i worked at is Very Behated in new york and the media thrives on the place getting negative attention.

-another option that occured to me is that i was fired by Evil Boss because she thought i was going to rat her out about things she is doing that are unethical and probably illegal. (i know this sounds dramatic but i won't go into job details in public for various reasons--i already revealed too much in the screenshot!) i was not going to do that, but also i wasn't DEFENDING her and saying what she was doing was okay, and that came to her attention yesterday and she went the fuck off on me. she told me i had to tell the famous dana NOT to inform people that their rights were being violated, and i'm like---I cannot tell someone what to say and not to say, and that would be a REALLY SHADY THING TO SAY? so this bitch probably got spooked. Who even knows what happened but this is clearly one of the most unjust sackings in history 😂 maybe they will hire mourinho to take over my position

-how did i make such a positive impact on 7914433 people while having the most horrific trauma episode since before i started taking meds? damn. i guess i put my whole longeyelashedtragedussy into making connections and truly enjoying them

#lampard life 2024 #i'm scared...i'm so out of money #and relying on my parents for help is a really bad idea lol #but also like. shit is weird bc people are being SO NICE TO ME #sorry for TMI post

6 notes · View notes

rarebritney · 2 years

Note

okay so im a 23 year old woman and recently I have been feeling more infantilized by others than ever before, which seems to go hand and hand with sexualization. when I was younger I was obsessed with growing up fast and everyone would remark on how mature I was. now everyone seems to remark on how much I look like a baby or make other comments on my appearance. i work at a fancy bar and people often assume i’m not knowledgeable or just a waitress or make comments when I wear braids or pigtails about how young I look. i am currently dating a man who is 10 years older than me (who i have known for a while, all my friends are older too) and i feel like it has changed peoples opinion of me. the strange thing is I feel myself leaning into it a bit, but I could go without the weird comments and condescension. so what if I like to look cutesy doesn’t mean I am not a grown ass lady who is independent and competent at her job. i guess im curious as to your thoughts on agency, infantilization, sexuality and relationships with men. much appreciated ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ̀ˋ love your blog<3

Cont: following up to the last anon… i find myself interested in older men for a variety of reasons (men my own age are too immature, older men are generally more sexually competent, I am just around them more, etc) i feel respected by my partner and enjoy our dynamic and feel very comfortable being myself (which is to say very girly and cutesy- I love skirts and pigtails and pink and ballet and flowers) i am just wondering about the psychology behind leaning a bit into infantilization in the bedroom when it bothers me so much professionally.

Ok so I should probably address the fact first that it is a bit of a red flag for a 33 year old man to be dating a 23 year old. Obviously I don't know either of you, so I won't preach about it, I'm sure others have mentioned this to you but I have to say it. You are so young, and a man that age dating so young reflects a desire for control that I find alarming. However, you are your own person and an adult, so far be it for me to dictate what you should do. You may want to consider the way the dynamic of your relationship affects your self esteem bc I have experienced that while having that feeling of approval from an older man can be really exhilarating, it can be equally crushing if it is rescinded. I'd be a hypocrite if I advised you not to lean into a hyper feminine and submissive role in your relationship, but I would warn against letting it bleed too much into the rest of your life. Make sure to practice saying no whenever needed, and I mean that really seriously!!! As for your friends and coworkers, I would say don't worry too much about being underestimated, just make sure to hold onto yourself and dont let it get you down. I've been underestimated bc of how I look my whole life and I've learned you can't really keep it from happening . its not worth changing yourself or your aesthetic to avoid judgement. But be sure to stand up for yourself consistently!! tell people to fuck off when you need to. Overall I really relate to what you are going through. My main advice is to make sure not to lose yourself. Best of luck to you💖

11 notes · View notes

thepixelelf · 1 year

Note

for ur wip reveal ask game, i simply MUST know more about ghost hoshi detective jihoon please 😌🤲🏻

ask me about a wip!

title: Ghost Hoshi Detective Jihoon

ahhhh this one I love the idea so much but I'd want to make it long and I just don't have the attention span 😭😭

warnings! reader discretion is advised. the content ahead includes mentions of death, murder, & serial killers

basically the idea is that about a year before the story "begins", Soonyoung and Jihoon were detective partners, both investigating the case of a serial killer -- called the Red Letter -- who had run rampant in their city. except, one night Soonyoung got a little too close with a new hint or clue, and he was murdered by the Red Letter. Jihoon was obviously devastated and enraged, but the police captain (Seungcheol bc who am I kidding) took him off the case because it was now a conflict of interest for Jihoon. unbeknownst to him, though, Soonyoung's ghost stayed behind. he seems stuck to Jihoon for some reason, but he has no way of communicating to the living. for a year he just drifted along, watching as his best friend fell apart over the loss he experienced while unable to do anything to comfort Jihoon.

enter you, a server in a small bar near Jihoon's precinct. Jihoon's finally broken down for some reason and goes to the bar to drink himself stupid and just forget. you've just arrived for the late shift and taken over your coworker's tables -- including the one Jihoon's sitting at. Soonyoung is there too, though no one can see him. he's just sitting across from Jihoon going "man, you've really let yourself go..."

until you go up to the table and say "can I get anything for either of you?"

Jihoon barely registers what you've said, but Soonyoung's eyes go wide and he's like "you can see me???". you tense up and focus your eyes on Jihoon once you realize Soonyoung is a ghost -- you've been able to see ghosts your entire life, and it never goes smoothly when they find out you can see them.

anyways basically Soonyoung convinces you to help him solve his murder because it's the only way to bring Jihoon back to life (the irony!) and it would be really sad but also funny. you find out that Soonyoung can actually possess your body (most ghosts can which is why you don't want them knowing your abilities) and it's the only way he can really communicate with Jihoon without just using you as a parroting telephone.

also it would be a poly au because jihoon realizes he was in love with soonyoung who falls for you along the way and you fall for both of them but feel so distraught because you feel as though jihoon only needs you to have soonyoung and you're not just a vessel for soonyoung to speak through goddamnit

and after a big argument jihoon shows up at your door, goes "you're more than that to me," and pushes you against a wall and kisses you until you forget your name ANYWAY

(gotta clarify that I am not a shipper, the story and these characters just went this way in my head)

I have the first 1 and a half chapters of this written, so lmk if you wanna see a snippet!

#ask game answers #wintour #ideas.tpe

4 notes · View notes

apoapsis · 1 year

Text

@likeagiirl said, ❛ i had it under control. you didn’t need to do that. ❜ -Widowmaker

Unlike his coworkers, SIGMA is most notably not mission-oriented; and TALON did not actually appear to view this as a bad thing, as what he lacked in discipline he most certainly makes up for in compassion– meaning that he would effectively do anything within his capabilities to preserve the lives of their other, much more worthwhile assets.

To SIGMA, however, they’re so much more than “teammates”-- these are the only people he’s known since glimpsing the sun again. They may not like him, but he loves them.

So when the Widowmaker ignores his pings over the comms, it’s only natural that he would grow anxious with utterly zero input from one of the most experienced members of his division. After all, she was his line of sight, advising him on the movements of the enemies, so that he wouldn’t become distracted with looking for danger on his own. So where is she? Last known location was… the parking garage, ninth story… The officers attempting to apprehend him are crushed beneath the unbearable weight of gravity in SIGMA’S haste to depart in search of the Widowmaker with little more than a sweep of his hand.

When he finds her, she’s cornered two to one– originally having been five on one, judging by the additional three bodies scattered near where she’s struggling against one federal agent while the other barks something into his comms. The astrophysicist’s lack of footsteps against the backdrop of gunfire leave him practically undetectable in the gloom of the parking bay, until he’s practically on top of the one on his radio. Without warning, the man’s form practically erupts into a plume of a fine, red mist as bits of bone and viscera streak across SIGMA’S suit and visor in addition to the ground– while the agent struggling to restrain the Widowmaker, in the shock of the commotion, promptly receives a palm-strike directly to the face from her, and upon his reeling away from her, finds himself compressed into a cube of bloody mass less than a couple inches in height and width.

“-- I was calling for you! You would not correspond with me!” SIGMA snaps, clicking the side of his helmet to depressurize it and allow him the full range of motion to speak as the edge of his visor retreats into its compartment. The astrophysicist is coated in blood and finely shredded bits of gore, the metallic odor hitting him the moment his face is exposed to the air as he rounds upon Widow, looming over her as he visually inspects her for immediate harm– primarily because he’s wary of her attacking him if he gets too handsy, himself.

“... I don’t care who outranks who– I call, you answer! I need to know when you are in danger! It is my job to protect every single one of you!” Exasperated, he pauses to use the back of his glove to wipe away the sweat accumulating– only to succeed in smearing blood across his flushed features in its place, elevating his stress.

“-- Are you… Are you okay, at least?” SIGMA asks finally, awkwardly clearing his throat. “I am not a medic, but if there is any immediate attention you require, I am willing to provide assistance in any way. I have my first aid kit handy, if you need it.”

#interactions + ғʟɪʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɪɴғɪɴɪᴛʏ ; ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴇᴏᴍᴇᴛʀɪᴄ ᴘʀᴏɢᴇɴʏ +#recall + ʙʟᴜʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇs ᴏғ ᴡʜᴀᴛ's ʀᴇᴀʟ ; ʀᴇ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ +#likeagiirl #HE TAKES HIS JOB AS TANK VERY SERIOUSLY.... even if hes bad at it :(

1 note · View note

ecoamerica · 1 month

Text

youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

17K notes · View notes

peejsocks · 2 years

Text

casual - bam margera x f!reader

PART 4 - What do you mean, 'no'?

summary: reader will not admit she has a crush on bam. they keep their distance and it’s better that way. until bam makes a suggestion and everything changes fast. no Y/N

a/n: fun angst for the whole family, sort of. more jealous bam. the boy, Adam, is straight up young adam brody in my head. i blame ready or not and my obsession with daniel le domas, thought i’d share.

disclaimers/warnings: just swearing, no smut, brief mention of puke but not graphic

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

PART 4 - What do you mean, 'no'?

Finale

The aftertaste did not agree with you. Bam’s fingers provided one of the highest highs you had ever experienced, only for you to crash dramatically after. On the way home, the word “whore” was hammering in your head, forewarning a migraine.

That afternoon you feel bad for having sex with Bam for the first time. Once again, he hadn’t done anything wrong...The word didn’t offend you, it was standard for your escapades. But something’s off. It’s you.

It didn't feel right, how he implied you were his. Not a matter of words, but of context. Belonging sounded amazing, and not what was in his mind, exactly. It was a passing comment with the objective of heating things up in the moment, mind fogged by desire. Simple as that. Ordinary. And you knew that was the problem, you had stopped wanting casual, yearning for special. You were the problem.

Childishly, the thought that he believed he could call you all those possessive names but still hang out with and probably fuck other women without worry annoyed you to no end. 'Cause he could, he did. Probably.

Alright, fuck, you caught feelings and now you’re figuratively pacing around inside your head, making up scenarios solely to upset yourself when really your annoyance comes from the fact that you fumbled this situation all on your own. Poor guy is probably clueless to your anxious breakdown. Lucky him.

Awesome! It has to end. For your own good and in remaining hopes of nurturing an awkward but friendly work relationship. You’re not gonna be heartbroken and jobless over Bam Margera. Fuck him.

Conclusion was not something you were good at, however. Coldly pushing away was more your style. So instead of outright putting a stop to everything or communicating like wise friends had advised, you shut him off completely.

Ignoring any and all texts of stupid jokes or videos he sent you and keeping your distance during shoots became your modus operandi. He didn't say anything, likely not wanting to make a fuss in front of his Jackass coworkers and friends. You missed him terribly. His laugh, his big blue eyes, his sharp smile when he said something provocative in that slurred twang. Or the soft fabric of a hoodie when he surprised you with a quick embrace from behind when nobody was looking and after he had a drink or two, secretive and teasing...Time dragged.

Lunch on a tuesday and Knoxville had a mischievous look in his eyes. Horrifically, directed at you. Thirty minutes later, as Steve-o and Bam explained to your hand held camera what surprise they had conjured for Ehren that day, Johnny intentionally bumped into you and took over filming, turning the spotlight your way. Maniac on the loose.

"Go on, dear. Tell us what you think of these two mad geniuses and their plan." You could punch that toothy shark-like grin off his face, but you like sharks too much.

"Stop ruining my day, Knox, and let me do my job." You move to grab the camera back but the much taller man is not even phased. "I'm not fucking around."

"Oh-oh, boss lady is pissy. C'mon, just a few words. We haven't heard much from you these past few days." He looks at you poignantly, then at Bam, grabbing you by the shoulders and positioning you by the dark haired boy's side.

You shift uncomfortably. He knew, fuck, Johnny knew, the bastard.

"It doesn't surprise me Steve-o and Bam came up with this, it's evil and dumb." Harsh words, poor Steve-o had done nothing to you. You were gonna give the older southern man what he wanted and maybe tell Jeff you're not feeling great, so you could go home early.

Johnny makes an "Ooooh" with his mouth, swinging and blowing on his fingers as if they burned, alluding to your diss at the boys. He turns the camera to Bam, "Any last words?"

The young man shrugs, and you almost feel disappointed. Christ, did you want a fight?

You huff and move to steal your camera back from Knoxville, pinching him in the arm that’s holding the equipment up high, anticipating he'd use his height to his advantage. You look like two siblings, temporarily unsupervised as mom goes to the shops. Not how the crew sees this debacle though, staring amusedly and whistling. It doesn't help when you jump up trying to reach the camera, holding onto Johnny's shirt which consequently pulls him down on top of you when you slip on the muddy ground under you.

Knoxville lets out that stupid loud laugh of his, usually contagious, but definitely not as much right now for you. Your eyes search for Bam, who is looking down at the pair of you with a strange expression. Inconvenience? He walks away soon after.

You push the scrawny man off of you and get up. The camera's thankfully intact, you assure Jeff, who honestly couldn't care less, still wiping away tears of laughter. Not feeling in the clownery mood, you go looking for a bathroom to clean some of the mud off of your white jeans. Stupid choice on your part, really. On your way, you pass by Bam sitting at some picnic table, avoiding human interaction by pretending to check something on his laptop. Your eyes meet and you continue walking, with no interaction whatsoever, right into the portable bathroom, hoping it had toilet paper in it.

Tremaine can tell you're in an awful mood, so he gives you a hard time for twenty minutes and then lets you go home early.

Back at your place, an hour goes by before you get a call from Dave. He says Pontius told him to call you and ask if you were feeling better, and if so, to ask you to join them at Steve-o's house party. Having already taken a long nap and eaten, all that was left to do was to shower and get dressed. Fuck it, playing quarters and laughing until 5am sounds good. You make a mental note to give Chris a big hug once you got there, thankful for his simple but consistent care.

Two hours after that - couldn't go without washing your hair first- you arrived at Steve-o's. You loved the man, but his apartment complex was a total dumpster fire every weekend. Quickly making your way up to the roof, where you were sure to find your boys, you notice a handful of undeniably good looking people. Not unusual, but a bigger number tonight. Glad you made the decision to dress up nicely, even adding a leopard print faux fur cropped coat to cover a not so modest cleavage. Maybe you'd have some fun.

Giving Johnny the cold shoulder, you immediately jump into Chris' arms and thank him for being a good friend. He pats you on the back gently, and leads you towards a beer pong table to join his team and annihilate Ehren and Dave. You don't see Bam anywhere, nor Ryan. Okay, you are gonna have fun.

Watching Dave England puke warm beer after losing a game was always funny, your own stomach aching with laughter. You high-five Pontius and tell him you're gonna go look for something tastier than Miller Lite to drink, nearly skipping down the steps towards Steve-o's open apartment door, feeling light and tipsy. Humming, opening the fridge, you spot Dunn and your heart sinks.

The blonde nods at you sweetly, he was such a good boy...only also Bam's inseperable best friend. You manage a tight lipped smile at him, pouring a margarita mix into a red cup and leaving, not wanting to stick around long enough to see piercing blue eyes follow you with resentment.

Making your way through the crowded hallways of the condominium, a hand pulls on your arm. Turning back scared, you’re surprised by the brunette man from the other day, at the skate park. "Water bottle line?" He says as a way to make you recognize him and you laugh.

"Yeah, I remember." Smiling, you shoot back, "What are you doing here? You know Steve-o?" Speaking louder over the music, eyes squinting as if that would help.

"Oh, I wish, friends of friends got invited, you know how it goes." You nod.

"I could introduce you, you know? If you'd like." He blushes at this, realizing he might've let slip the fanboy in him. You laugh simpathetically, feeling the warmth of the sweet margarita mix in your cup.

"Even if you did, I don't think he'd remember me tomorrow." He points out, understandably. Steve-o looked completely out of it. “I'm Adam."

You shake his hand and tell him your name. Fuck, he was adorable. Unpretentious, naive, clearly lost in a party so big. Used to large personalities at this point, running in the same circles as your closest jackasses, it was fun talking to someone a little more free and normal. You had no clue what his intentions were - to be honest you didn't know yours either- but he was paying you full attention and you were enjoying yourself.

Not for long.

In the midst of a full belly laugh over some sincerely pitiful story Adam was telling, you feel a presence behind you and the nice boy you had been talking to goes a little pale. You two had been leaning your shoulders on a wall, facing each other rather closely for the past...Well who knows how long. Chatting shit and laughing. Now, turning to see who was the looming figure, you find Bam's trained eyes on the brunette victim, one arm pushing on the wall behind your head. He's sporting an unfairly fitting wine red button up (not so buttoned), hair falling on his face. Rings, chains, bracelets. Oh-so-menacing, you thought and stifled a laugh. His gaze turns to you and you freeze.

Adam stutters, he's a fan, of course. The pro-skater celebrity thanks him, but does not ease his facial expression. Searching your eyes for help, the tense brunette swallows roughly.

"That's enough, little man, I've got her from now. Thanks for keeping her entertained." You look up at Bam in disbelief. Mouthing an 'I'm sorry' to Adam, you start descending the stairs of the complex, knowing your “knight in shining armor” is following suit. Ryan watched entertained, but he wouldn't tell you until much later.

"That was fucking rude. What's your problem?" Once on the ground floor and out in the chilly night, you turn furiously to the unhinged man behind you.

"My problem? Are you blind? That guy was nearly fucking you in Steve-o's hallway." He's exasperated, getting closer.

So you were not the only one faking scenarios in your head. "First, don’t be so prudish. Second, no he wasn't, we were talking. Third, why are you bothered?"

"First, he was waiting for the talking to be done so he could fuck you in Steve-o's hallway." He says matter-of-factly, as if you're stupid. "Second, it bothers me you'd give such a slimey douche any attention."

"Why?" You cross your arms and stick your chin out, not having any of it. He repeats your question louder, like you said something batshit insane. "We're not together. I let you live your life, let me live mine."

His answer baffles you. No.

"No?" Your face must look funny right now, hysterical even. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"Absolutely not."

Then he turns away and starts calling a cab, leaving you so absurdly confused. He asks for your address and you give it to him, not processing anything. It was silent after that.

During the car ride, you look at him but he keeps his gaze sternly away, staring out the window and biting his own finger as if in deep thought. It hurts again. Having his tender blue eyes on you had been one of the biggest comforts for you lately.

Not sure what you had done to push him over the line, you sensed this might be finally over. Hell, it should have officially ended after the skateboarding competition. What was the point of all the pining and agony to you? The sex was good, but why give him such pleasure just to be left with all the hurt?

—————————————————————————

tags: @srhxpci @satanrius @1967chevys @allouttaangst

let me know if you want to be tagged!

notes: it’s so funny to me imagining young adam brody in this i mean he’s significantly taller than bam and i’d go for him over margera any day but oh well lol when in rome right ??

ps: next chapter is the last one. the shortest and veryyyy emo :)

#pontius…my beloved…..#bam margera x reader #jackass fanfic #bam margera #johnny knoxville #jackass #casual.#Spotify

139 notes · View notes

rockettransman · 3 years

Text

Re: The Adventure Zone, psychosis, and Justin McElroy wrecking my shit

An anecdote about navigating fiction and fantasy with psychosis

One night as work was closing up, I was listening to The Adventure Zone: Balance ep. 67 (emotions and stakes are SKY high; iykyk), when I was struck with a realization: none of these people have autonomy over their memory. They never got to choose what and who to remember or forget.

I realized that the cause for my trauma, and a large amount of psychosis triggers are just that -- not having bodily autonomy. Not being able to make decisions or having a say in what I experienced; hearing voices, mind control, parasites and spying.

As Taako spewed his fury at Lucretia for taking away his memory of his sister, I remember thinking, "wouldn't it be funny if this triggered an episode"

Familiar fog suffocated my mind. I narrowed my eyes at a coworker. What felt like electricity crackled from temple to temple. A benevolent voice advised me,

He's going to follow you home.

Why?

He just is. Better watch out.

My inner monologue morphed into a voice I recognized so instantly it made me nauseous.

"Better watch out," sang Taako, unmistakably.

I froze.

Of course there was no wizard elf whispering in my ear. He was someone who I had never entertained existing moments ago. Moments ago, he was a silly voice in a DND podcast. He was Justin McElroy, beloved podcast host and storyteller. But even after I had shut it off, he did not leave me. He was real, and he was in my brain.

"Don't worry, I won't hang long."

We're not doing this, not now.

"What are you scared of, kid?"

He did not stop. It did not stop.

The Adventure Zone triggered a psychotic spiral that left me aimlessly stumbling along one half-mile stretch downtown, muttering nonsense and twitching and crying. I circled the block like a deranged animal. And I guess in those hours, I was. There was no lucid Noah left in me.

I desperately wanted to get in my car to drive home. But I couldn't, because my coworker was in my car waiting for me. I couldn't, because he would follow me home. I couldn't, because Taako was in my car. If I approached him, he'd kill me. Why would he want to kill me?

It's hard to explain the sheer terror of feeling like you are disconnected from realty, and knowing it. It's hard to explain the fear of recognizing the bizarre behavior and thoughts in yourself, but not being able to turn them off. Being unable to trust your thoughts, being forced to follow where a delusion takes you, is a unique betrayal by your own mind. I knew it was dark, late, and I was a vulnerable-looking person in not a great area, but that didn't matter. Taako was in my car and he wouldn't leave. I was being spied on by the Bureau of Balance through the lampposts. They wanted to kill me. Why? No one told me why. Keep walking. You cannot leave.

I wanted help. I needed help. But I couldn't get out.

As much as I wanted help, no one and nothing was safe. I fled from coworkers approaching me on the street. I listened to the voice telling me the median is nice and soft and safe. Don't touch the grass, though. You will be sucked up through a portal to their world. Don't fucking touch the grass.

A man delicately approached me and asked if I needed help finding my car, seeing my keys clutched in my fist. I shook my head, wanting to cry. I knew the answer I wanted to give wouldn’t make any sense to him.

“Make the wizard in my car leave, please.” It’s all I wanted. I didn’t know where I was or what was going to make it all stop. None of it made sense, but it didn’t make any of it less real. It never stopped.

Hours later, after the sheer exhaustion of pacing and crying numbed my panic to a degree, I yielded and allowed a friend to take me home.

Storytelling is my favorite thing about humanity. But my illness prevents me so often from enjoying it, or consuming it safely and without incident. Unfortunately I've had to hang up Balance, this close to the finish line. Characters and a story that brought me so much joy and took up so much space in my mind can turn on me in moments, doing much more damage than an anxiety attack.

#noah.txt #yeah I could write more about it but man am I tired #it was genuinely terrifying #like such a very bad night #taz #taz balance #lup #taako #magnus burnsides #merle highchurch #justin mcelroy #travis mcelroy #griffin mcelroy #the adventure zone balance #the adventure zone #psychosis #mental health #actually psychotic

59 notes · View notes

medical-gal · 3 years

Text

Death by a thousand cuts

I have been thinking about writing this for months now. Even before I decided to quit the residency at my previous job.

COVID has been kicking our ass, true, but that was (is) true for most healthcare providers all around the world.

No, my struggle started a bit before that actually.

First some background, I have been working at one of the biggest most famous ID clinics in central Europe. The clinic is in a different country than I am originally from so there was a bit of cultural accommodating at the begging. But we were a big group of ID interns/residents/fellows and specialists.

I don't actually remember that much from my first year working there. And I couldn't figure out why, but then I read in some study that when u experience a high dose of stress and/or sleep deprivation for a long time, your brain kinda stopps being able to transcribe short term memory into a long term.

I was working 100hours/week, sometimes less, sometimes more. After a year and a half, when the last half I worked in the ID ER for five months, I always stayed after working 24 hours, sometimes over 36hours, and I would see and treat 70ish patients. Nobody from the older docs would help me out, nobody from other interns either bc usually they would have their own kind of hell to take care of.

The fact that basically, inexperienced doctors are taking care of patients never really phased my ex-boss. Her mantra was that if there was a problem that you cannot resolve, you can call her and she would advise you. Which most of the time was true, I must say that.

But we all have been young docs, barely out of our medical school garments, and sometimes as it happened, we could not recognize there IS a problem that maybe needs a more experienced opinion.

I am often confronted with this idea or more like a culture, of pretending that once you are an MD you don't need help and asking for it is a kind of weakness and that then you are forever on the list of WEAKLINGS.

And let me say this only once.

That's absolute bullshit.

Anyway, the first time I decided to quit I worked there for about a year and a half, I went for a long-expected holiday, I took three weeks off, had interviews and talked with my bf about my options.

Second thing...my man, bless his beard, would support me no matter what. He is almost 10 years older than me, so he has more work experience and I find it reassuring to discuss stuff like this with him bc I know he will not sugarcoat it. He said that I should dig my heels in and last at least one more year till the end of my "internship". As a "resident" who worked at this specific department, I wouldn't have a problem finding another job. We r basically the equivalent of a french legion of medical professionals (when u work in this specific department and everyone knows it, I will come back to that later).

So I took his advice. Thankfully as a part of our training, one of those parts is a year-long internship at the internal medicine department, which I did shortly after we had that conversation and guys, that was a revelation of how medicine and just...work and life can be experienced. There were enough docs for a floor, an attending who had the time to manage and advise us. I´ve grown that year as a doc so much. Other internships were mandatory so I could have become (equivalent of) a resident, and it was a general surgery, anesthesiology, radiology, microbiology etc. But I did them all and became a resident.

The moment I came back to our clinic, my boss would put me in our outpatient department. Which I have never worked on before. The head of the department has quit a few months before, and I had no idea what to do there, bc it's a very different type work. The only thing my boss told me when I spoke of my concerns were "you will learn".

Thankfully the previous head of the department was a good friend of mine and she would always answer my questions and requests. Suddenly I no longer had to deal with the hectic life of an ID floor or ER, no sepsis, meningitis, etc.

Most of my patients were the chronic type...Lyme, chlamydia, mycoplasma... let's say it literally drained the life out of me. But I managed. Also, I started to work for their outpatient office which takes care of patients with chronic hepatatis. That I enjoyed more.

I also started to dip my toes in vaccinology, either planned like for travel but I started to be more interested in preventive care in the immunocompromised and my own phantasmagoria was to make a palliative care team in our hospital. Bc, we had none. And then a wonderful thing happened, other docs, older experienced, great at their work, started to refer their patients to me specifically.

There were more examples of the utter a complete FUCK U(s) which were kindly provided either by the system or by the head of the department or the hospital.

Then covid hit and the shit hit the interstellar space.

I still can't make myself remember the first few months bc it actually causes me to go into a rage fit, and honestly, I am done with that kind of negativity.

I hold out for a year. Year of such shitty treatment from the chief and our hospital head. No thank you- s or you are doing a good job or we r all on the same ship.

No.

People will say that I quit bc of the money. And that's not true, tho it did irk me a bit. All the other ID specialists working at different hospitals would get covid bonuses every month. We got jack shit. Again, the best biggest most know ID clinic. We were the first and oftern the ONLY ones who would test for/diagnose/hospitalize/treat a patient who had covid FOR MONTHS in the beginning.

I mean, the medical community is small, the ID community even smaller so yes, we were able to compare and contrast the work at different ID departments in other hospitals bc our friends worked there. And all of them would go speechless when they would hear from us what we were living thru.

At one point at the beginning of the pandemic, ALL the ambulances would go thru our ER department and we were supposed to decide where the patient should go.

AN EXAMPLE

Ambulance with a woman who has known colon cancer, had a fever, stomach as a rock and is projectile vomiting. I was supposed to decide where she should go and the surgeon would be super pissed when I said that I don't think she has COVID but without PCR I can't be sure but I think there is a bigger pressing issue. I remember him saying:

"well if anyone else gets infected at our department and dies, it's on you."

fun.

There were other examples of seriously stressful episodes which I and my coworkers lived thru, for which we were not trained for, advised, or properly supervised. At a certain point, I started to take anxiolytics before and during my all-nighters bc I didn't know what I would do with all that stress which was so callously shat on me and my coworkers.

For a few months, I stopped working nights, only thru the mercy of my coworkers who saw how exhausted I was and would take my shifts.

Anyway, after only two months I had to start working nights bc I needed the money. The basic pay for docs was just not enough without the extra from night shifts. Talk about exploiting.

The moment however when I decided to QUIT, when I was DONE, when I actually heard my heart break, was the moment at the end of the previous year. They decided to start vaccinating in our tiny small vaccination centre. Let's say a "shit storm" brewing is the light version of events that ensued.

But basically, as I was trying to discuss with my boss that we are all exhausted, that this wave is not slowing down and that throwing more work at us, the docs and nurses and other staff, who are overworked, is not a good idea,

What she basically said to me is that who says things like that is lazy and that if she can handle it everyone must be also.

The thing is..most of us were at the bring. Some would handle it with casual and calous sex, drugs (legal or not), a bottle of wine before sleep. A coworker ended up with antipsychotics.

But u know,

we were all lazy apperently.

I realized there is no way out of this other than quitting. I could not continue being so tired and sad all the time. I took two weeks off, really thought about it. Had diarrhoea and nausea for a week as I realized I will have to quit :D

On a Monday I came back, handed in my notice. Basically what she told me and how she reacted made me realized how right the decision was.

I had to stay there for another three months bc that's the law, but my mood changed significantly.

I got another job in a smaller ID department, working with amazingly kind people, but that's another story.

But that was the only interview I actually looked for and did. I, however, did get several job offers from different types of medicine. From heads of different departments in my old hospital to smaller general medicine chain offices who are looking for ID specialists, to insurance companies.

Like I said, french legion.

Or Runway and your boss is Miranda Pristley. Once u survive that, u survive anything.

But at my old work they would keep hitting you with wave after wave of passive agressive comments about how if u quit, u wont be able to find anything as"prestigious" as this.

There were many other exmaples of a shitty and questionable situations which were treated as "normal" but there is not point on getting on that rage train.

Contrary as it might seem, I am greatful I got to live thru this, good and bad, bc now I know what I am and am not willing to sacrifice for a job. No matter how much I might love it.

#sorry this is long #but goddammit it needed to be said #suzy's adventures in id

44 notes · View notes

caiuscassiuss · 4 years

Text

Birched⎮D. Sicheng (M) P.1

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

Sicheng♡Female! Reader

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

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

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

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

Slap.

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

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

January 5th, 2020

Raesung, Lee

Re: Important Office Notification —

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

To all whom it may concern,

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

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

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

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

Regards,

Raesung Lee

Department Head of Salesforce at Sinochen Enterprises

Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

Office 1876, 18th floor

Phone: +852 XXXX XXXX ext. 1876

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

January 6th, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

7 AM HKT

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

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

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

“Yes, that would be great.”

Like everything else in your life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Namely, the Sales Head promotion.

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

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

“Ladies first.”

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

“Thank you,” you said.

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

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

Dong Sicheng would not tempt you.

January 6th, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

9 AM HKT

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

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

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

“Certainly not you, Lina.”

“Hey, I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

January 6th, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

12 PM HKT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Friday January 18th, 2020

A Busy Street

6 PM HKT

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

353 Cornerstone Ave.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right this way.”

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

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

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

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

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

The best way Black’s maintained privacy?

Masks.

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

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

But Dolos was everything you never knew you wanted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Better.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dolos.

“M-master, but it’s only 10 PM—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your safe word, darling?”

“Sappho.”

“Sappho, what?”

“Sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whatever you deem necessary, sir.”

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

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

“Count for me, Dove.”

“One!”

Another one, but to the flesh of your thighs.

“Two!” you bit out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“On your knees.”

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

“Suck my cock.”

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

“With your mouth only, slut.”

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

“Yes, master.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What a gorgeous mess I’ve made.”

Tuesday January 21st, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

8 AM HKT

Raesung, Lee

CC: [email protected]

Re: Important Office Notification —

To: y/nl/[email protected]

Y/LN,

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

Regards,

Raesung Lee

Department Head of Salesforce at Sinochen Enterprises

Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

Office 1876, 18th floor

Phone: +852 XXXX XXXX ext. 1876

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

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

“Y/N-laoban, I have the files for—”

You froze.

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

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

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

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

Her young face peered at you curiously and nodded furiously.

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

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

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

“I hear congratulations are in order?”

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

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

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

A sigh left your mouth. Oh BeiBei.

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

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

“You know, someone of your… type.”

“Elaborate.”

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

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

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

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

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

His smile grew razor sharp. “Exactly.”

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

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

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

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

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

Thursday January 23rd, 2020

Your House

9 PM HKT

“Hi, mother. How are you?” you asked.

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

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

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

“I am busy.”

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

“I am my own laoban.”

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

“Thank you, mama,” you replied dryly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Especially for country-bumpkin you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell him I said hello, mother.”

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

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

Friday, January 24th, 2020

Black’s

9 PM HKT

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

The letter crumpled in his hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, so good. Incomparable.

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

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

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

Monday January 27th, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

10 AM HKT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your hands gripped the plush chair you stood next to.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You wanna bet on that, woman?!”

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

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

It was… hot.

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

What the fuck!

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

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

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

You dialed the private line for Black’s.

Your last resort...

Monday January 27th, 2020

Black’s

7:55 PM HKT

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

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

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

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

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

“Master?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her eyes widened, she held still.

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

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

“Safeword?”

“Sappho, sir.”

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

She preened.

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

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

“Eyes on me, girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Monday January 27th, 2020

Black’s

9 PM HKT

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

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

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

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

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

Except they were wrong. So, so wrong.

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

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

Never again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He gave a bitter laugh.

“I came here for control.”

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

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

Wednesday January 29th, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

3 PM HKT

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

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

人算不如天算.

Man proposes and god disposes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your own handwriting stared up at you mockingly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N?”

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

“N-no problem, really.”

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

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

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

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

Love, your Darling Dove.

Friday January 31st, 2020

Black’s

9 PM HKT

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

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

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

And hopefully, she would say yes.

Then she would be his.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dolos, sir.”

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

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

“Quite well, and you?”

“In good spirits.”

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

“What’s wrong, Mr. Lau?”

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

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

Dear Dolos,

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

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

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

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

Thank you master,

Dove

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Evidently not, Sicheng thought bitterly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“May I ask you for a favor, Mr. Lau?”

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

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

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

Sicheng’s burning eyes turned towards him.

“Tell me who Dove is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Even then. You know this.”

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

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

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

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

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

*cackles evilly* to be continued...

793 notes · View notes

hustle-cat-scenario-fun · 3 years

Note

Hiya, can I get a head canon about how they react when Rust Douche turns them into rust?

Of course, anon!

Avery - Avery will feel a mix of fear and regret at not being able to prevent Nacht's advance toward the other staff members, a fear of what it's like to be trapped as rust for eternity, and regret that they couldn't do more to stop him - or at least that they couldn't stop him with the most they could manage. They may not have wanted the cat curse to have been a thing in the first place, but they still care about their coworkers.

Finley - Finley will very much try to hide her fear with jokes, like that this is going to delay her streaming schedule and she needs to call her channel moderators about the delay before Nacht does this, but underneath she will be terrified and unsure of what this means for her. She'll cope through a mas of humor, but it's entirely that- a mask on top of the very real panic she's feeling.

Hayes - This poor boy will be experiencing a full-blown panic attack as the rust seeps up his body, much like he begins to with the static in his own route. He's not going to be handling it well, and even if others are there to reassure him they'll reverse the curse and assist in helping him get better, it's not much use when the rust is still seeping up his body and Nacht is still nearby. The rust statue he's frozen in place as looks emotionally broken and distraught.

Reese - Reese is far too prideful to allow Nacht winning to get to him, he may cry out of fear somewhat but he won't let that out as real fear, he rejects the idea that this can make him scared as he begins throwing out insults, threats and swears at the rust mage. He's very much turning that panic into aggression toward Nacht as the rust seeps over him, and if the spread wasn't quick enough, he might have even tried to get a punch in before he's turned.

Mason - Mason is very much the kind of person who fights until the very end and manages to resist the spread the longest through sheer willpower. Some onlooker witches might even swear they saw her rusted muscles move as she tries to get closer to take Nacht down before she's turned into a rust statue. Her expression cold and her glare piercing, she's practically wrestling against Nacht in a stalemate with her arms as they're coated in the rusted metal. She's not too talkative, like Reese is, but the rage and willpower can definitely be sensed just by her actions.

Landry - Surprise, at first - He's fully shocked and frozen in place from that more than fear, he wasn't expecting to be caught like this. As he begins to rust more, he's like Finley where he plays it off with jokes, but adds in comforting reassurance for others. He doesn't believe in any of it himself, but he wants to make sure his coworkers assume he's going to be fine, even if he isn't. He's the type to laugh at his own demise and promise he'll show up to work tomorrow even if he were to be caught in a volcano's eruption, so he'd definitely do something similar here.

Graves - Either it's like in game, where he advises the nearest person to run away and protect his staff, or if nobody is around, I imagine it's more sentimental. No fear, just acceptance that he's lost with a few quips toward Nacht about how he finally got what he wanted, but it won't rid him of the emotional troubles he's dealing with. Graves is definitely going to use this to inform Nacht that this doesn't change his feelings toward him, or the fact that his magic is corrupted. I feel like it becomes a melancholy, difficult discussion between the both of them, that satisfies neither.

#Hustle Cat #HustleCat #hustle-cat-scenario-fun #HustleCatScenarioFun #HustleCatScenarios #Hustle Cat Landry #Hustle Cat Finley #Hustle Cat Avery #Hustle Cat Mason #Hustle Cat Hayes #Hustle Cat Reese #Hustle Cat Graves #Hustle Cat Nacht #Headcanons #Anonymous #Admin Avery

22 notes · View notes

justahopelessssromantic · 4 years

Text

Yesterday: Two

A/N: Hey guys here’s an update for Yesterday for you. Sorry I haven’t posted in a while. As I suspected work has been kicking my ass and on top of that I had some family I haven’t seen very often come to visit so it has all just been a little crazy and busy. I hope you all enjoy and have a safe and pleasant weekend ❤️

Thank you so much @carlaangel86 for making this beautiful collage for my story 💖 I appreciate it and you so very much 😘

Word Count: 4912

Angel watched as Juliet sipped the tomato soup from her spoon. She was really here, right in front of him. It was almost like he was afraid to look away, that if he turned his back for one second she’d be gone again. He just couldn’t stop staring at her, watching her every move. He was never going to take a moment with her for granted again.

“You’re making me nervous.” Juliet said looking up from her bowl. Ever since Angel picked her up from the hospital his eyes had been on her.

“Sorry, I just, I can’t believe it’s really you.” Two years had gone by where they were parted. So much time gone that they would never get back. Angel was still trying to wrap his mind around it all.

For Angel he had been apart from his wife for two years. For Juliet it was merely a few hours. Whatever happened to her was a mystery to both her and Angel. The doctor said with the trauma she must have experienced plus the fall it was all normal for her to block out the time. He advised Angel to be gentle and patient with her. In time she’d get her memory back.

Juliet was trying to come to terms with her situation herself. It was hard for her to comprehend how she had lost so much time. One moment she was on her way home from picking up a couple of steaks from Felipe for their anniversary dinner and then she was waking up in the hospital in fucking Arizona over two years later. To say she was confused would be an understatement.

Juliet self consciously pulled her sleeves down her arms making sure she was as covered as possible. She didn’t like being uncomfortable in her own body but right now she didn’t even recognize herself. She was noticeably thinner, her skin covered with unfamiliar scars and markings and her hair longer than she remembered. Everything was so different, especially herself. She didn’t even know who she was anymore.

She tried to remember, she really did, but every time she did her head would start hurting.

“It’s really me.” Or at least she thought it was. She gave him a half smile. Angel reached across the table taking her hand in his. Her eyes flicked down to her bare ring finger. “I’m sorry. I must have lost my ring.”

“Don’t worry about it Jules. We’ll get you another one.” All that shit didn’t matter to Angel. All that mattered was his wife was here right in front of him, touching him, talking to him. She was here and he was never letting go.

Sure they could get another one but she didn’t want a different one. She wanted the one Angel slipped so delicately onto her finger after their vows. The silver band she’d look down at whenever she was missing Angel. The one that was engraved. She wanted the ring she imagined herself wearing for the rest of her life. The one she would never take off.

“Jules,” Angel snapped his fingers in front of her face, pulling her back out of her thoughts. “Are you feeling okay? Are you getting a headache? Do you need anything?” Angel rattled question after question.

“Angel, I’m fine!” She snapped immediately regretting it as she watched his face fall. She felt terrible. “Shit, I’m sorry.” Juliet pulled her hand away from Angel’s burying her face in her hands. She tried to steady her breathing, keeping the tears away. She knew he meant well. Everything was just still so raw. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Her voice was muffled through her hands.

Angel stood up carefully reaching out to put his hand on her back. He noticed how she flinched when he first touched her before she settled to his touch. He rubbed circles across her back trying to comfort her. “I know. It’s not your fault.” Angel was trying to keep his own frustrations down not wanting to add to it. He had so many questions he wanted answers to, questions only she had the answers to if only she remembered.

His wife was here but she wasn’t the same person she was two years ago. Even without her memories she was changed. How could she not be?

Juliet took a deep breath pulling her hands away from her face to peek at Angel. “I’m sorry we fought.” There was so much she wanted to say to him. So much that was still so raw for her even if it had faded for Angel. He had two years to move on and she didn’t. “I promise I was going to talk to you.”

Angel crouched down next to her pulling her hands back into his, giving the backs of them a kiss. He knew what fight she was talking about. The day before she disappeared he had found her birth control. He knew the failed attempts at conceiving were hard on Juliet, they were hard on him too but finding the pills crushed him. He wasn’t ready to give up and she was.

Angel met Juliet walking down the walkway of the school with her two coworkers Charles and Heather. They were discussing the coming up Thanksgiving play the children would be putting on next month. There was so much to plan between costumes, props, and set up.

Juliet caught Angel coming her way. He did not look pleased which worried her. She knew that look. Whatever was to follow was not going to be good. She excused herself from the conversation meeting him halfway as he grabbed her arm and led her around the building. “Angel, what’s going on?” She asked him, reaching out to touch his face.

He pulled his face back gaining a frown from Juliet. Grabbing the little pill pack from his pocket he shoved it at her. “What the hell is this?”

Juliet sighed, looking at the birth control now in her hands. “Angel I promise I can explain.”

“Have you been taking these? Is that why we aren’t getting pregnant?” The hurt in his voice pierced straight through Juliet. She knew Angel would be upset which was why she was really hoping to talk to him before he found them.

“Of course not.” Juliet replied, her voice hushed. She hadn’t taken a single pill since they decided to try for a baby. She was just tired of all the disappointment. She got a refill because she was thinking about going back on but she would never do so without talking to Angel first.

“Then why the fuck do you have it?” Angel was livid and heartbroken. There was nothing more in this world he wanted besides having a child with Juliet. How could she be ready to throw the towel in already?

“Can we please just talk about this tonight?” Juliet pleaded with Angel. She hated when people would butt into her business and there were plenty of people around this town and more specifically her workplace that loved the gossip.

“I know Jules and you did, remember?” Angel asked cautiously. He wasn't sure how much of before she disappeared she remembered. “We made up by the end of night.”

“Yeah,” she gave him a small smile. She remembered they talked it out that night getting rid of the pills. She had just gotten the prescription filled that day and was going to start taking them again but couldn’t bring herself too until she spoke to Angel. He just unfortunately found them first. She didn’t really want to give up on the hope to have a family with Angel, she was just tired and heartbroken. It felt like the universe was against her getting pregnant again. Like she was being punished for her past.

“And if I remember correctly we had some great fucking make up sex right here.” Angel smirked, setting his hand on the table. “I was almost certain that if any time was going to knock you up it would have been then.” Angel spoke before realizing what he had said.

They never got to find out because then she vanished.

“I don’t suppose we’re going to keep trying now.” Juliet stared at her small hand in his. She was still wanting to have a family with him. They were trying, were going to have a nice anniversary, get away but now that wasn’t happening. It wasn’t even their anniversary anymore.

“You know I want nothing more than to have you pregnant with my child, to watch you grow together, to raise a family with you but I think right now at least until you find your footing again we should press pause.” Right now he just wanted to cherish having her home. To make sure she was in a good place before they added the stress of trying to conceive again.

All that mattered was her.

Angel woke later that night in a sweat. That was a common occurrence for him. He hadn’t slept soundly through the night without a nightmare since Juliet disappeared. Reaching out to wrap his arm around Juliet for comfort he frowned, his arms coming up empty. He patted her side of the bed not feeling anything there either and that’s when the panic really set in. Sitting up he turned the bedside lamp on looking over at the empty place beside him. His breathing was hard and shaky as his heart raced.

She was gone.

She was gone again or maybe it was all just one sick cruel dream. To have the love of his life back in his arms just to have her ripped from them once more.

No she was here. He spoke to her, touched her. She was back and now she was gone.

Angel got out of bed trying to ease his oncoming panic attack. She could be in the bathroom or the kitchen or living room. She could be anywhere in the house. Just because she wasn’t in bed didn’t mean she was gone. At least that is what he was trying to convince himself.

He made his way out to the living room. He ran his eyes across the room. Everything looked just how he had left it.

That didn’t bring him any comfort. If anything it made him feel worse.

It was exactly like that night.

Still he tried to remain calm, or as calm as he could. He walked into the kitchen wondering if maybe she had gotten up for a drink or a snack or anything else but he found the room dark and vacant as well. It was from there that he could see the faint light peeking out from under the door down the hall.

He let out the breath he wasn't even aware he was holding. It was the laundry room. Of course she would be in the laundry room. He wasn't exactly sure how it happened but that room had become their safe space, their get away when family would come over and it would all be too much.

It was just another place that maybe didn't seem special to an outsider but to them if held much more.

Angel made his way down the hall and slowly opened the door. Sure enough there she was sitting on the floor with a bag of marshmallows.

She looked up from her snack, swallowing the mouthful before giving him a small smile.

"There you are. Couldn't sleep?" Angel asked her leaning against the door frame.

"No." Juliet admitted. She was exhausted but couldn’t get her mind to quiet down. Juliet didn't want to wake Angel so she had slipped out of bed to come here.

She was trying desperately to remember anything at all but she just kept coming up blank. She knew she wasn't supposed to force it but losing so much time it was hard for her not to.

At least she had Angel. She was so thankful for him. He had been nothing but patient and understanding with her.

It was her first night back. Angel knew it would be an adjustment. Stepping into the room he opened the closet pulling out a couple of spare pillows and blankets. If she wasn't able to sleep in bed then at least they could be together in here. He handed a pillow to her and laid the other one beside her before crouching down and settling down with her. He covered them with a blanket and wrapped his arm around her bringing her close.

"Marshmallow?" Juliet offered holding the bag up to him.

Angel took one plopping it into his mouth. “You have the diet of a toddler.” Angel teased taking another marshmallow.

Juliet smiled, not a full one but a smile at least. “At least I don’t live off beer.” She teased back laying her head against his chest.

Juliet felt Angel’s chest move with his chuckle. She snuggled in closer enjoying his warmth. They lay there together just holding one another enjoying the other. Juliet listened to Angel’s heartbeat focusing on the soothing rhythm as he ran his fingers up and down her arm.

It didn't take long before Angel lulled her to sleep. He could tell she was finally out by how her breathing evened out. He kept running his fingers up and down her arm just enjoying having her here, her weight against him was the best feeling in the world. He always loved and cherished her before but losing her like he did just made him appreciate this second chance so much more.

A few days had gone by with Angel and Juliet readjusting to their new normal. Angel was doing everything he could to make her comfortable not pushing her in any way.

Angel was being patient but he was still getting frustrated. She wouldn't let him see her in anything less than her street clothes. She wouldn't even let him in the bathroom while she was getting ready. She didn't want him to see her which only made him wonder what she was hiding.

Did she think he wouldn't like the way she looked anymore? That he wouldn't want her? He knew she was thinner which bothered her but to him that was nothing. He loved her and would love her no matter how she looked.

He just wanted her to feel comfortable with him again.

“Hey,” Angel said, peeking his head into their bedroom. Juliet had been resting in their bedroom after she had started feeling a headache coming on.

Juliet looked up from where her head was resting on his pillow. She was in a pair of leggings and one of Angel’s long sleeve shirts, her favorite things to wear right now. Angel smiled, still not fully believing that she was really home and alive.

Maybe this was all just a dream, maybe he finally lost his mind, or maybe he was fucking dead. Whatever the case he wasn’t going to question it. His love had returned to him, that was good enough for him.

“Hey,” She smiled back sitting up.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling much better.” Thankfully resting with some medicine managed her headache smoothly.

“Good.” Angel shut the door behind him coming to sit next to her. He rested his hand on her thigh. “Do you think you’re up for some company? Gwen’s here.”

Gwen had just arrived with Serena. They were waiting out in the living room with EZ. Juliet had asked about them earlier and Angel showed her some pictures of Serena to try to lighten the blow of seeing her much more grown than she remembered. He knew the missed time with Serena would be one of the hardest for her.

They both adored Serena. She was important to both of them. They helped raise her.

Juliet perked up at this and climbed off their king bed quickly slipping her feet into her slippers. She couldn’t wait to see her best friend and Serena. Angel reached out grabbing her arm spinning her back around to him. “Are you sure you’re ready?” He asked.

Juliet wanted nothing more than to see Gwen and Serena. Seeing the pictures of Serena came with a little bit of a shock and the feeling of regret for having missed so many moments in her life. Juliet didn’t want to waste another second with those she loved most. She already missed enough time. “I’m ready.”

Angel gave her hand a squeeze. He led her out of the bedroom and to the living room where they were all waiting for them. Gwen immediately stood up from her place on the couch rushing over to Juliet and pulling her into a hug. Angel released Juliet’s hand so she could wrap her arms around Gwen too.

“I missed you so much,” Gwen sobbed into Juliet. Gwen and Juliet were more than just best friends, they were sisters. Neither one of them ever had a friend like the other. They had been inseparable until James showed up and when Juliet came back to Gwen they picked up right where they left off. Losing Juliet was one of the hardest things for Gwen.

Juliet held onto Gwen holding onto the back of her shirt. She cried herself, everything building up finally breaking her. She couldn’t relate to the pain of what everyone else went through but she had plenty of her own. They held each other for the longest time not wanting to let go until the tears had settled.

Gwen pulled away first, wiping her eyes. “I’m so happy you are home.”

Serena slid off the couch herself coming up to her mother. “Mama why are you crying?” Serena asked, hugging Gwen’s legs.

“It’s okay baby. They are just happy tears.” Gwen explained smoothing Serena’s hair down. “I’m just so happy Auntie Juliet is home. Remember Mama told you all about her.”

Juliet looked down at Serena. The tears streamed down her face as she looked at her beautiful goddaughter. The pictures helped some but it was so different seeing her here in person. She was so grown and looked so much like Gwen. She was beautiful.

“Mama said you had to go away for a while,” Serena said to Juliet. “But now you’re back. Where did you go?”

Gwen gave Juliet an apologetic look. Juliet wiped the tears off her face leaning down and smiling at Serena. “You know I don’t really remember but all that matters is I’m back now and I can’t wait to hear everything I missed.”

Serena’s face lit up as she thought about all the things she could tell her Auntie Juliet. “I can tell you everything!”

Serena grabbed Juliet’s hand, taking her to the couch excitedly. Juliet laughed looking back at Angel who was smiling at them before turning her attention back to Serena to listen to all of the young girl’s stories.

Angel flipped the steaks on the grill. They were now all outside. The girl’s were catching up as they watched Serena play in the sprinklers while Angel and EZ prepared the food.

EZ nursed his beer watching Angel as he would keep looking back at Juliet. “How are you holding up?” EZ asked him.

“Me?” Angel asked, stealing a glance at EZ before turning his attention back to the food. “I fucking feel like I’m dreaming. Like if I blink or turn my back on her she’ll be gone again.”

EZ nodded. He understood where Angel was coming from. After all he had been through the last two years it was only natural that he would have that fear. “Has she remembered anything or talked about it?”

Angel shook his head. “No, she hasn’t remembered anything and she hasn’t really said much.”

“How is she doing?”

“I’m not sure. She’s adjusting you know?” Angel took the steaks off the grill setting them on the plate. “She’s still trying to wrap her mind around losing so much time. I just wish I knew how to help her.”

EZ patted Angel’s shoulder giving it a squeeze. He could only imagine what his brother was going through. “I know it’s not the same but after being on the inside all that time you know what the hardest part about getting out was?”

Angel shook his head.

“Coming out and trying to catch up with the outside world. Life went on out here without me. That was the hardest adjustment.” EZ explained. It was a rude awakening to come out and see how everyone had moved on with their lives while he was still stuck living in the past thinking about how his life should have been if things were different. “You can’t give her her memories back but you can help her with everything she missed here. You need to tell her everything, the good and the bad. She deserves to know it all. I think that could help.”

Angel watched as Juliet played with Serena and her stuffed dolfin after dinner. She was smiling so full of life as she looked up and over at him in the kitchen. Her smile only grew as her eyes met his. Angel smiled back lovingly watching the two of them together.

Juliet was going to be an amazing mother one day.

“It’s so crazy.” Gwen said, coming up beside Angel. She watched Juliet and her daughter with him. “I can’t believe she is really here.”

“Me neither.” Angel leaned back against the counter. “There’s so much she’s missed. I know that’s bothering her the most right now. Maybe even more so than not knowing what happened to her.”

Juliet had expressed to him how weird it felt for her to have missed so much time. How awful it felt for her to know she missed so many moments with friends and family. She had already missed plenty during her relationship with James after he had isolated her from those she loved.

“I know what fucking happened to her.” Gwen said looking at her best friend. “This was James.” She knew how obsessed James was with Juliet. It killed him when Juliet finally walked away from him. He would do anything to have her all to himself. Gwen was certain he was the one behind Juliet’s disappearance. “If that motherfucker shows his face around here I swear to god I will kill him.”

They didn't know for sure but Angel always suspected James had something to do with her disappearance. He even confronted him but got nowhere. “Yeah and somehow he always came out clean.” Angel muttered. The cops had looked into James as well and found no leads. James was a dead end.

James would never fully be off Angel’s suspect list no matter how clean he appeared. James had hurt Juliet before, there was nothing stopping him from doing it again. Next time Angel saw James he wouldn’t hesitate to put him six feet under regardless if it was him who did this to her or not. He had enough sins to pay for to justify it. “If you want to kill him you’ll have to get in line.”

And that line was a long one.

Gwen was happy Juliet and Angel got together. The guy’s would often frequent the bar she worked at and now owned. When Juliet came to stay with her she helped out at the bar. That’s when Angel first noticed her. It took some time to get past Gwen. She was very protective of her best friend especially after James fucked with her. Gwen knew Angel was a good guy though and after one good threat that if he ever hurt Juliet she’d rip his balls off and shove them down his throat she finally decided that Angel could approach Juliet.

From there the rest was history.

Gwen watched as Juliet tickled Serena, the two’s giggles filling the house. “Honestly I don’t know if I want her to get her memory back.” Gwen said. At least for the most part Juliet was happy. Gwen watched a little longer before turning to Angel. “Whatever happened must have been hell. She’s already endured so much more than one person should ever have to in one lifetime. Maybe it's a blessing that she doesn't remember.”

Angel agreed to some extent. He didn’t want her to have to suffer anymore than she had but not knowing came with it’s own pain. He also couldn't stand not knowing who hurt her and how. It was selfish but he had to know if only to know where to focus his rage. “Yeah but she also isn’t sleeping and she’s jumpier than usual. It’s like she’s fighting a demon she can’t see. I’m not sure that’s much better.”

“I wish there was more I could do for her.” Gwen hated feeling helpless and right now that was all she felt, just like Angel.

“There is.” Angel remembered EZ’s earlier advice to him. “We can’t give her her memory back but we can at least fill her in on what she missed here at home. At least that’s what EZ suggested. He said we should fill her in. Tell her the good and the bad shit she’s missed. She deserves to know what happened while she was gone and life went on.” Angel pushed off the counter so he could stand directly in front of Gwen. “I have to tell her. I have to tell her everything.” He wanted to give Gwen the head’s up. What was clawing at the back of his mind right now involved her too.

He had to tell Juliet about Vicky’s girls and he had to tell her about his night with Gwen. He could never keep secrets from her before and now even less so.

Gwen knew where Angel was going with this. It wasn’t that she didn’t think Juliet had the right to know she just did not see the point in telling her. She glanced back at Juliet and Serena seeing them focused on the Frozen Serena’s favorite movie that she had put on the tv to show Auntie Juliet. Gwen looked back at Angel keeping her voice hushed. “She doesn’t need to know about everything.”

“I have to tell her Gwen. I can’t keep this hanging above our relationship.” He wanted to be able to kiss his wife, to hold her, to be with her as man and wife but he couldn’t do all that with this guilt inside him.

“Telling her is only going to hurt her Angel,” Gwen insisted, “We were drunk and hurting and it only happened once. What is telling her going to accomplish?” They both felt terrible immediately after their night together and agreed to never talk about it again but here they were.

“Are you afraid it’s going to ruin your relationship?” Angel asked Gwen.

“Aren’t you afraid it’s going to ruin yours?” Yes she didn’t want to lose her best friend but that wasn’t the reason she was against it. She was just trying to protect Juliet’s heart. “Are you sure this isn’t just about easing your guilt?”

“It’s not about that. It’s about my relationship with my wife. It’s about the promise I made to her the day we got married.” Angel felt like shit after sleeping with Gwen and continued to feel so in those late hours of the night when he’d dream about his wife. The girl’s at Vicky’s had no connection to him but Gwen was family, she was Juliet’s best friend. Even with thinking she could be dead he still felt as he betrayed her. What Gwen said was correct. They were drunk and heartbroken just seeking any feeling besides the heartache that had consumed them both. Juliet was compassionate and understanding. She would understand. “Juliet will understand.” Angel said as if saying it outloud would make it true.

“Juliet will be fucking pissed.” Gwen sighed, shifting her weight on her feet. “Look Angel I get where you are coming from but honestly what is telling going to do besides causing her more pain? Hasn’t she been through enough already?” She reached out setting her hand on his arm. “Just please don’t do anything impulsive and really think it over before you say anything. This is so much bigger than our one night together that meant nothing."

Angel nodded giving in to Gwen. He would wait for now and think it over. He didn’t want to ruin Juliet’s good mood. He just wanted to cherish this happy moment all together for now.

"Mama! Angel! Come watch with us!" Serena called out from where she was bouncing on the couch.

Juliet looked over at them and smiled. "You heard the boss." She laughed.

"I'll make some popcorn," Gwen muttered before excusing herself to the panty.

Angel put on a smile for his girls. He sat down next to Juliet wrapping his arms around her. Serena giggled climbing on to his lap taking his other arm and wrapping it around herself tightly. "Uncle Angel is just like Olaf," Serena told Juliet snuggling in close to him, "he loves warm hugs." Serena smiled watching the screen getting lost in the movie.

Juliet watched Serena with Angel closely . It seemed she had some competition for her husband's attention but she didn’t mind. Seeing Angel with Serena only made her yearn for a child of their own even more.

Angel would be an excellent father one day.

Tagged List: @jad3djay @fairygardenss @carlaangel86 @briannab1234 @starrynite7114 @agirllovespasta @howaboutash @gemini0410 @naytraydr @knowles-morgan @woahitslucyylu @everyhowlmarksthedead @ktiz90 @brothersofmayhem @ifoundmyhappythought @vsfavs @scuzmunkie @chibsytelford @whyisgmora @sadeyesgf @blessedboo @lilac-tea-time @multiyfandomgirl40 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @toni9 @thesandbeneathmytoes @briana-mishell24 @sesamepancakes @erinicole86 @trhett21 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @cocotheclown @angelreyesgirl @cind-in-real-life @sonnycarisiisdaddy

#angel reyes #angel reyes x oc #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes fic #mayans mc #mayans mc fic #yesterday

77 notes · View notes

brideofcthulhu10 · 4 years

Text

The Lost Boys Find Out Their Fem!S/O is Pregnant [4/4]

SUBJECT WARNING: PHYSICAL AGRESSION, SEXUAL THEMES AND A WHOLE LOT OF SWEARING. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!

Alrighty then, my lovely fang babes! Here we are, we have the last of the first edition of the pregnancy saga! Worry not, dearest readers, for there is hope! I plan on doing a separate series about going through the pregnancy, and maybe even going through the childbirth with how the boys are as new dads. Let me know in the comments if you'd like to see more, and by tomorrow night we'll have a whole new set to love!

It was such a blast writing Paul's, I'm not gonna lie I got lost in the magic! We have a cute little character cameo for all you 80s movie nerds, lemme know if you can figure out what it is! So, without any more delays; here he is. The gorgeous, the goofy, the one, the only:

PAUL

Today had been an unexpected challenge. You barely got through your shift at the record store, every time you were in light it made you dizzy. Hangovers had nothing on this! Did you drink too much the night before? No, now that you thought about it any attempts to drink had you hugging a toilet. Not to mention your period was late as hell! Well, not the cramps, go figure. Just no blood. None at all.

You never let on to your beau, Paul, though. The party boy vampire would become overly worried if you told him you were sick, and you weren't about to spoil a good time with a bit of nausea. So here you were, stumbling about the day into the late afternoon absolutely miserable. Your manager Iona offered you some crackers and ginger ale during your lunch break. No dice, within an hour you were running to the bathroom again.

"Gosh hon, I dunno what ta tell ya. Maybe you ate something nasty, I told you that boardwalk food was fishy," Iona sighed, poking at her own lunch with a fork. Currently your coworker Andie was watching the front until you were feeling better.

"Kill me now, Iona," you groaned, chin resting on the table with your arms laid over your head. Then there was a smell. The greatest, most flavorful, mouthwatering scent you've ever experienced. Like a honey baked ham and a New York sirloin had a glorious new baby drizzled in ecstasy. Glancing over, your stomach growled at whatever it could be. If this were a cartoon you'd be flying to what it was.

Oddly enough, it was coming from Iona. Well, whatever black stuff was in her little plastic tupperware dish. Who cares what it was, it smelled incredible.

"Hey uh..," you asked, leaning over towards the sticky, mysterious delicacy calling your name. "You wouldn't mind if I had a bite, would ya?"

"You sure, hon? This isn't exactly your average dish, it's kinda weird," she tried to explain. God you couldn't take your eyes off it! Finally, your merciful manager pushed it your way, and you couldn't resist any longer.

"I don't even care, this is the first thing in the past two days that hasn't made me nauseous," you muffled between cosmic bites.

Oh shit, this was heaven! It had to be some sort of meat, it reminded her of a nice spicy kielbasa, a slow roasted brisket, every second it changed to some new world of food you had never tried. What it was didn't matter by this point.

"Wooow. I've never met someone who liked black pudding that much."

Pudding? "I thought it was meat or something? It doesn't taste anything like pudding," you insisted, polishing off the very last specs of it. "Got any more?"

"No, no, not like chocolate pudding or stuff like that, kiddo. black pudding. It's this dish from the UK my new boyfriend made me. It's congealed pig's and cow blood mixed with spices."

You made a face. Blood? Like, blood blood? The cow equivalent of what Paul drank on a daily basis? Yet this was the first time you didn't puke, in fact, you kinda wanted more. Even knowing what is was made of.. for some reason you craved more. Meanwhile Iona continued to talk on and on, until one phrase caught your ears. "Yea, ya know my mom was so into for the longest time. Said she craved it her whole pregnancy, I never got a taste for it honestly."

A single thought popped into your head. A dangerous, foreboding thought that your intuition said was very much a possibility. In a flash you jumped up, nearly slamming your hands on the table. "I gotta go. Oh shit, I gotta go! I'll be right back, I swear, I'm so sorry, I swear to god I'll be right back," you shouted as you bolted out of the store.

"Wait what-?!"

You'd make it up to her once you got back. You had to know! You had to be sure..! Please just let it be paranoia! Please let it be anything, anything at all besides what you thought it was!

Once you reached the nearest CVS you made a B-line to the women's health section. Your hair clung to your face, your lungs stung like crazy but all you could think about was getting answers. And cue the disapproving glare of some old bat picking out a box of pads. Alright being 17 in front of the pregnancy tests looked bad. You weren't just a high schooler, you looked it too. "What're you looking at, " you snarl. Immediately she clutched her pearls, startled by this abrasive youngin' in no mood for dirty looks. God why'd there have to be so many options? Pink boxes, purple ones, bright yellow insisting it worked the fastest. The heavy fluorescent lights were no help at all, it made your head spin. You had no time for this crap. In a sweeping motion you grabbed three different brands and threw them into your basket, all you needed was….where was your wallet? Shit... Glancing around you checked for any nearby cameras or staff. Karma be damned, it was an emergency! Five finger discount it was.

Once again you made a mad dash back to the record store as the sun finally set. All three boxes were crumpled in your hand, your boots running so fast it you hit a rock that'd be it.

But getting back to the record store was your best bet. You weren't about to pee in some dirty, old, nasty pharmacy bathroo- oh fuck. There was something that finally slowed your steps, nearly making you trip in the process. Four bikes parked right outside. Three of which were occupied by by Dwayne, David and Marko all talking amongst themselves.

Shiiiit, shit, shit! All you could do was swear repeatedly. Before they could spot you, you practically dove into the alleyway behind the store, rapidly disabling the alarm. If that went off it'd be a dead giveaway. Quickly you looked left and right before you slammed the door shut behind you still trying to catch air.

But there, right past the door to the employees lounge, over by the counter you could see a mass of blonde hair chatting away with Iona about Led Zeppelin's best album to date. Paul, gorgeous as every, laughing. It made your heart flutter, but then it sank. What if it was a-... He was never the type to run away from a challenge. But then again, a kid wasn't a challenge, it was a massive ordeal. It would take a huge chunk of his life- well, afterlife! Boozing and cruising would be switched out with drowsy days and busy nights. You weren't sure if you wanted him to know if you were, it would take all that from him. Unfortunately, he must've smelled you or sonething, because immediately he turned around like a puppy being called.

"Babe," he cheered with delight, rushing over to hug you. Rather squeeze you by your hips and lift you four feet off the ground. Quickly you stuffed the skinny boxes into your back pocket, now smushed up against his chest. "Where were you? Ion's said you just bolted mid-shift, we were worried sick! Well, I mean, I was more worried though, cuz I can't stand you bein' gone, kitten."

"Well, yeah uh, I forgot something I had to get at the store, and I forgot what time I got off," you hesitated, still antsy to escape to the bathroom. Truthfully you didn't actually want to, you had to! If you could, you'd just kiss him and ride off into the night to raise some hell like you always did. But this was too big to ignore.

Paul raised a brow. You weren't known for being this jumpy. You wouldn't look him in the eyes, they just kept darting towards the bathroom. Boy, you really did look sick, though. Pale, almost greenish with dark circles under your eyes. You even felt colder than usual. "Am I uh, interrupting something, babe?"

You managed to work out if his arms, giggling nervously. "Actually I-I had some of Iona's lunch earlier, and I just, gotta- be right back!"

With that, you bolted into the bathroom and slammed the door behind you. Again, weird. Paul just shrugged, maybe you had some bad Mexican.

Iona wasn't convinced. Little miss jumpy-pants skipping out on her, you owed her an explanation. While Paul perused the albums she sunk over to the bathroom, rapidly tapping on the door. "Y/N! Psst! You good in there, hon?"

You were most certainly NOT good! Your hand shook, the third test finally finished. Not like it mattered! They all said the same thing. Every fucking one of them.

Positive. Positive. Positive.

No, no, no!

"Shit," you hissed. "Shit! Oh shit, oh fuck! Fuck-fuckity shit fuck fuck! Dammit." That's all you could do! You swore over, and over, and over, rapidly kicking the wall in front of you. Stupid pink plus! Why? Why did it have to be a plus?? Immediately you threw it in the trash and scooped up the other two. Maybe they were all flukes? Maybe only a doctor could tell you! You had to get home. Like now. Right now, you just had to rush home, make an appointment at the doctors, maybe hide in shame for a few days just until you could figure out what the hell to do with all this! Once again you wedged the tests in your back pocket and nearly tripped, cracking open the door to face your boss. "Iona, I gotta get home."

"Seriously, Y/N?? Why? What is with you?"

"Please, I swear I will make it up to you, I'll take a double shift, I'll wash your damn car-"

"Oh no, nuh-uh. Not until you tell me why you're being such a spaz," she practically shouted in a hissing whisper, absolutely exasperated. You teens and your drama, when she always said she wanted to fell young again this is NOT what she meant!

"Listen i-... iyay amyay egnantpray," you whispered. Pig latin. It was a little code you two usually reserved for secrets. Well, that and talking smack about snotty customers. But wow was this a big ol' secret.

Iona covered her mouth. Oh, you little idiot! You poor little idiot. Looking over at the unsuspecting boyfriend she sighed, looking you in the eyes. She wanted to just tell you to come clean to your man. The boy hung around you constantly, you two were the ultimate it-couple, there wasn't even sparks it was like watching supernovas. Something this big.. it shouldn't be left in the dark!

But that pitiful expression on your face just begged her to keep quiet, and frankly it wasn't her place to tell you what to do- well, at least in this regard. "Alright, alright. This saturday you're taking my night time shift, there's a big concert I wanna go to. And you gotta wax my car, it's gettin' nasty. And you better write the best damn apology note in the history of apology notes, sweetie. This is huge, you better come clean to him eventually, or I'll kick your little butt you hear me?"

"Yes. Absolutely, fine, deal. Just please, please keep him busy, I'm not ready to tell him," you whined, clutching the door. Frankly it sounded like a piss poor plan, but it couldn't be helped, not right now at least. You didn't have the strength to confront the situation head on, you were barely keeping it together. You wanted to cry all over, jump into his arms and come clean now, but this was neither the time or place.

As soon as Iona went to go over to Paul you stuffed the tests into your purse and bolted out the back door, only this time stealth was not on your side. Right at the mouth of the alleyway, just as you were about to be home free- you ran smack dab into a particularly lithe blonde that felt like a brick wall. You went flying onto the ground, your purse crashing onto concrete with a hundred pieces of your privacy going every direction. In a panic you began to rapidly stuff it all back, barely able to hide the first two tests as you threw some half baked apology Marko's way. Honestly he deserved a better one than that, but you were too frazzled to be fair at the moment.

"Oh shit, Y/N," Marko exclaimed, immediately kneeling down to help you gather the scattered remains of your purse. "Sorry, I didn't even see you, I was coming back for a smoke. Big Ed is such a douche, can you believe theres no smoking on the-..." His words trailed off, and you shortly saw why. Grasped between his pointer finger and thumb was the little pink strip, and a look of complete disbelief. All you could do was snatch it from him, a heavy moment of silence magically muffling the wild noise and shouts of the busy boardwalk.

"Do...D-Don't worry about it. Look, I gotta get home, I'll see you arou-," you started, trying to jump up, maybe catch him off guard and make a run for it. Not this time.

You hadn't even noticed he grabbed your wrist, it was such a blur. He stayed silent, standing up and looking right into your eyes with hidden malcontent. You swore if you answered wrong this mischievous cat would tear your throat out. After all, you were his best friend's girl. If you did anything, ANYTHING, to hurt him... Well, let's just say a pregnancy would be the least of your worries. "Why are you running, Y/N? What the hell is this thing," he asked quietly, eyes flickering between red and blue. "Did you…?"

"Oh don't fuckin' even," You snapped, smacking his arm, yanking your hand out of his grasp. "Of course not! You butt! God, are you serious? What do you take me for- No! I- fuck I just- no!" You kick the tin trash can beside you, watching a plethora of trash fly into the air. "I am freaking out! Of course it's Paul's. Oh fucking god, it's Paul's and I don't know what to do!"

Marko's expression softened, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Hey, I didn't mean to make it sound like that, Y/N. Paul's my friend, I just had to be sure you weren't sneaking around, you know?"

You sighed, pushing back your mess of a hair with misty eyes. This was perfect, a real big screw up from start to finish. All you could do was look over at Marko with pleading eyes. "You can't tell him yet. Please, just please please PLEASE, Marko, don't tell Paul yet!"

"Tell me what, babe?"

Shit. Shit on a stick. You looked behind to see Paul halfway out the back door with a look of concern, one that he rarely carried. You and your dumb mouth, go figure.

The blonde pushed through and let the door close behind him, looking over at his best bud standing alone with his girlfriend who was begging him to keep something secret, from him no less.

"Marko?"

"Nah, nah, don't look at me man, this is all on you guys," he sighed, hands up in a shielding motion. "Good luck buddy. Gotta go, Y/N." with that the young vampire excused himself from this melting pot of drama, hands stuffed in his pockets.

You just stood there, keeping the little strip tightly grasped behind your back. Paul was silent, but glancing at his hands you saw they were balled so tight his knuckles were white. "P-paul…," you hesitated, biting down on your bottom lip. "I should really… get home.."

Paul only raised a brow, glancing at your arms still tucked behind you. This wasn't like you to hide from him, and that alone frightened him. Nothing had ever frightened him before. And he didn't like the taste of it one bit. "What's behind your back, babe?"

"What?"

Again his spoke, this time his voice lowered into a low growl. "What... do you have... behind your back, babe?" The way he said it was so firm, it made you shake a little. You didn't like stern Paul. They way he hissed the word "babe", practically spoken through clenched teeth

Your throat ached, eyes darting across the ground struggling to think up a good excuse. Anything. A book, your purse, a surprise for him! Anything!

"N-nothing." Apparently, you failed to find any excuses. Great.

Paul's knuckles began to crack, jumping forward to try and snatch it from behind you. When you dodged him, he grew even more furious. You both began to struggle, pushing him away, insisting he just stop and let you leave. But every attempt to reject him only upset him further. Why were you hiding things from him?! How could you just ditch him at the record store when he was worried sick about you??

The struggle built up until finally he had enough. His eyes turned white with rings of fire, brow looming heavily over his eyes and fangs jutting out where his incisors once were. In a flash he grabbed you by you wrists, pinning you so hard to the wall it shook. You still tried to struggle. Thrash, kick, squirm! Steel wished it could be so strong, your muscles ached. This probably wasn't even his full strength, but it dwarfed you in comparison. This terrifying side of Paul you had certainly seen before, but never had you been on the receiving end. It was in all sense of the word, predatorial. He'd never try to kill you, but you still felt that horror build up inside. Rapid, sharp breaths made your chest heave, too afraid to look up at those red eyes still fixated on whatever you kept hidden from him. He continued to pry your stubborn fingers open, ignoring your shaking whimpers. He squoze your wrist, the tendons aching and contracting until your fingertips began to lift up. Any resistance was pretty much useless at this point, but dammit you still tried everything to worm out of his grip. But he had finally had it, you weren't gonna be keeping secrets from him. Now your last finger was pushed off, and he could see what was so damn important that you physically fought him to keep it secret. It was almost slow motion the way the strip spun to the ground, clattering down and landing beside his mud caked boots. He froze, slowly looking down at it. That's it? That's all you-...

You could barely read his face, so many different emotions flashing across it all at once. Occasionally he'd look back up at you, then back down at it. To the point you almost got annoyed that you were still being stuck to a wall while the reality set in. After all, it didn't take a rocket scientist to know what that was, just put you down already!

Paul looked at you still pinned beneath him, horrified at how he lost his temper and immediately released you. Still rubbing away the pain across your wrists, you watched him pick it up. A wave of guilt swarmed your body, you didn't know whether to hug him or punt him in the chest.

Hell, a massive tidal wave of guilt overflowed him too. It'd been such a long time since he got that angry.. but worst of all he'd never been like that with you. Never grabbed you so forcefully and ignored your pleas, it was a dark side of him he never wanted to display in front of you. Glancing at the little pink plus at the end of the stick, his mind swirled with a plethora of questions. But slowly he stood up, looking down at you still really trying to process everything that had happened in the past few minutes. "I don't… I don't understand.."

"You- You are such an ass," you shouted out of nowhere, enough that it made him jump. There you were. That's the fiery girl he knew, not the one he exactly wanted to be on the opposing side of at the moment, though.

Paul wasn't surprised you were pissed, but he definitely didn't expect you to start punching his arm. Again. Then again, and again you just kept hiting his arms, his chest, pushing and crying, you were so mad you wanted to chuck him in the ocean! It didn't really hurt that much, but he felt awful he drove you to that point.

Tears blurred your vision as you lashed out on him. All you could do was yell names between sobs, even whack him with your purse. "Paul, you absolute jerk! Butt! Jackass! You smarmy, half wit, blood-sucking tool! You said you were packing blanks, you absolute liar! I was gonna tell yo-! I mean, I know I shouldn't have run-! But you just couldn't wait- and then Marko- and you! You ! Jerk ! Butthead !"

"Hey, ow! Ow! Ow, dammit! I know, I know I went to far-ow not the hair dammit," he demanded, grabbing your arms before you could lay another mighty blow. "Babe! Babe, stop! I thought I was! I swear I didn't know- I-..I never thought that I could get you...." His hands slowly released your shoulders, moving to your hips. "I'm so sorry, baby. I swear, I didn't know.. I'm so sorry."

The way his voice softened only made you want to cry more. This whole day was a mess. You didn't mean to try and run.. You never should've tried to in the first place. God, you were so tired. All this running around, all this secrecy, the fighting, it was exhausting. Paul was the last person you wanted to fight. Sure you had spats and a few heated arguments. Every couple did, even vampires. But this, it was just so.m draining. With a firm thud you plopped your forehead on his sternum, your fingers tightly clinging to the upper sleeves of his jacket. "Wh-what am I supposed to do-… what are we supposed to do now..?"

Paul pondered his options with a solemn face, but there was only one that made him happy. Only one that sat right in his heart. What else could he possibly do, there was only ever going to be one answer even if you told him right away. Most of all, he couldn't stand the sorrow in your eyes. A frown never suited such a beautiful face. He never expected there to be anything to come from your heavy sexcapades, it never seemed like there was any risks in it. He'd never seen a vampire munchkin, least of all he'd never even heard of a vamp conceiving with a human. All he knew now is you, crying in his arms, terrified of what you were carrying. What it could mean. In that moment, he steeled his resolve and came to a final decision.

Silently he tilted your chin up, using his thumb to brush away all those tears staining your cheeks. Those blue eyes, you could get lost in them. Swallowed up by the sea. It wasn't hard to read his mind when he held onto your hip with one hand, while the other that pushed away salty droplets now cupped your cheek. Within moments you crashed your mouth into his, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck.

Warm. A surge of heat filled your body. It was the first time you felt truly alive all day. You could feel your chest heave against his, you didn't want any space between the two of you and only pressed tighter until there wasn't anything left. Each kiss gave momentary breath before you dove in for more. Neither of you could stop. You didn't want to pull away, not even for a split second. The way he smelled, the way he tasted, the way he touched you, the way he felt beneath your fingers; it made your head spin. His hands began to wander, you clutched at anything you could get a hold of. Your body burned, so sweet and long. In those moments the world stopped, it just melted away in streams of light. No one was there but you two.

It was over too soon, both of you rapidly panting for breath still intertwined. Oh, how you could stare into his eyes forever.

That frown was long gone, replaced by a tender smile. The one he had come to cherish. Paul chuckled softly, breathlessly nuzzling against your collar bone. Slowly he leaned in close to your ear, his disheveled blonde hair brushing up against your cheeks. Lips trailed up flesh, reavhing just beneath your ear. And then you heard those three forbidden words. Such sweet, tender words, you hadn't expected him to say. Although he whispered them so softly they might have gotten lost in the wind, to you they were as clear as the moon on a cloudless night.

"Y/N.... I love you."

It made your heart throb, you thought you might even faint. A lifetime of struggles led up to this beautiful moment. You never expected it to be a half-undressed heavy make out session with your vampire lover, the father of your unborn spawn, in the back alley of a record store on the Santa Carla Boardwalk. But here you were, nestled between him and an old brick wall. Paul loved you, he had said it, he finally said those words that could destroy any doubt you had. And more than anything in the whole wide world, you knew once and for all, you loved Paul.

134 notes · View notes

wondersbeyondcompare · 4 years

Text

More Majid Stuff

I post once in a blue moon b/c I work in random bursts and get tired easily, but here are some rambles about Majid that I’ve saved in my Notes app and probably haven’t mentioned before!

There are some rumors circulating around Majid regarding his wealth

More specifically: how he got his wealth

All these rumors range from him being a secret son of a noble family to taking shady underground jobs that paid ridiculously well

His name had been searched up more than once, but the only thing that pops up is a bakery business w/ a small branch located in the Land of Hot Sands... not too far from where Majid grew up...

Majid’s a quick learner; he just lacks the motivation lol

Tends to overthink too often, tho, coming up with detailed plans to get out of doing the most mundane stuff

Funny to watch but a pain in the ass to comprehend 😔

Although Majid tries to get out of doing most stuff, there are some things he can’t let slide

He can get picky over how some tasks are done; honestly??? this might be a good tactic on getting him to work (“Hey, Majid. Can you help set up the decorations for tonight’s party?” “No.” “Aaaa, okay, guess we’ll just have Mark do it-“ “Mark? You want to leave decorating to him? Do you want the lounge looking like a highlighter projectile vomited over the walls and ceiling? Give me those streamers. I’ll do it myself-“)

Definitely a quality over quantity kind of person; his room may be a mess of different things, but, rest assured, it’s only the best of the best of stuff that stay for long like lava lamps

I want to say that Majid is picky about a lot of things in general, but he does have his exceptions; for example: food, napping locations, job opportunities, ummm (･_･;) That’s most of what I can think of right now, dang

This pickiness is kiiind of 👉👈 referencing a trait that the Cave of Wonders has; like the whole “only a diamond in the rough shall enter here“ business that was going on idk I’m trying my best

As you can see, I went ham when it came to the “Who disturbs my slumber” line the tiger head had lol 😅(sorry that had become your defining trait, m’boi)

And the mass of riches he’s accumulated over the years was another obvious reference to the inside of the cave as well; can also act as a loose metaphor of what’s stopping him from getting the help he needs; as the treasures in the cave were put there w/ the intent of distracting a person from the ultimate goal of the magic lamp, so does his own treasures serve as a temporary distraction from moving forward in his life

But if that’s too much of a stretch, then plz slap the inner English teacher in me and then myself

Majid’s good at looking through people’s facades and judging a person’s true character, but it’s not like he does much w/ this info

Unless they try confronting him or something, he just avoids/shuts down people he gets bad vibes from

Doesn’t make tactless comments; figured out that dealing with pissed off people was more work than it’s worth

Boi tends to ask a lot of questions when speaking to other people; partly b/c of trust issues; partly b/c he might be lowkey judging you (can’t use his unique magic all the time after all :/)

He’s the type of person who acts like he knows everything, but he really doesn’t; just hates getting looked down upon in general; will bluff his way through situations by being as vague as possible

He leans towards how his mother used to speak; that is: beating around the bush

He won’t lie to you, but it might take some time until he’ll give you the whole truth; and when I say it’ll take some time, IT REALLY WILL TAKE SOME TIME B/C THIS BOY IS UNBELIEVABLY STUBBORN

Is casual to whoever he speaks to, no matter the age; if he gets extremely annoyed with someone, especially if they’re older than him, he’ll use this over exaggerated polite tone that makes it real obvious he’s fed up with them

Gets ticked off whenever anyone advises him to do anything, but he’ll still take that advice to heart

Majid’s probably tired all the time b/c of all the jewelry he’s carrying around smh

Majid sounds/looks like he’s angry all the time, but that’s just his resting face 😔; I mean, he’s always a little irritated, but it’s mostly b/c he’s stuck in that state of being forced awake from a deep afternoon nap (b/c... that’s usually what happens to him)

Plus, have you met his upperclassmen? Have you seen what was going on in Scarabia during Chapter 4?????? Have you met the headmaster of this school???????? (; ω ; )

He doesn’t like people touching stuff that’s his; same thing goes for people touching stuff in general that aren’t theirs; doesn’t like thieves (he’s stolen stuff when he was younger, but he justifies that he only did so to survive; and he’s not entirely wrong)

Ironic b/c his mom was a thief 🤭

He’s also a pretty obedient student save for the whole “trying to sleep in class w/o getting caught” thing that he’s still trying to accomplish; doesn’t like it when the professors get strict with him but will grit his teeth and bear with it

Prefers magic carpets to magic broomsticks; there’s just a lot more surface area when it comes to carpets plus he’s more familiar with the former

Spends a lot of his time in the Scarabia storage room b/c it reminds him of his bedroom back home; probably became buddies w/ Kalim’s magic carpet while he was there too

But if we’re talking about the type of people Majid could tolerate befriending uummm... maybe those with good hearts?? Idk, like those who are genuinely trying to be a good person no matter what kind of obstacles they run into (referencing how the cave of wonders only let a diamond in the rough enter)

They don’t have to be all nice or sweet, but as long as Majid can tell they have kind intentions, he won’t immediately leave them

Has a “haaah... these guys are hopeless... might as well keep an eye on them so they don’t screw up any more than they already have” attitude towards these people

Other type of person Majid would unintentionally befriend are those who are also annoyed of being told what to do by upperclassmen/authority figures; ☺️🙏 vent out your frustrations together wooo

Has some squabbles with Leona when it comes to napping locations

It’s actually pretty funny to watch b/c they both don’t want to give up their spot but also they don’t want to bother getting up

Leona wins most of the time, tho

Majid may have had a lot of energy when he was younger but now he’s a g e d

I rarely mention Majid’s lava illusion magic thing, but yeah that’s a thing; he probably won’t be able to use it to its full extent until his last year of high school and maybe a little bit later; it takes up a ton of energy; I keep on imagining him using it and joking that “aaaa the floor is lava lol”, but then I remember the psychological effects this ability has on the victim and 😬 yikes scratch that

Majid has a loud clear voice when he speaks; often startles whoever’s walking by when he naps in the shadows

As a result of spending most of his time w/o a stable support system and no one static to guide his beliefs, Majid doesn’t follow any particular religion; he does have coworkers back at the curio/appraisal/pawn shop who do, tho, and while he doesn’t entirely understand it, he respects them as much as he can

I’ve said before that Majid selfishly keeps all his wealth to himself for fear of losing his self worth, but there are some exceptions (such as to anyone he passes who’s begging in the streets, a coworker who’s struggling to make ends meet, etc.)

He’s fine with giving away some money, but not in huge amounts

And if he’s giving money to anyone, it’s done in a round about way; usually w/ a dismissive excuse

If this boi had a route, depending on how the MC acts around him, the majority of it will be spent breaking down those walls and befriending him; generally going like this: shovel all trust issues into incinerator one by one —>Get him to tolerate you —> Get him to trust you —> Befriend (?) Him —> Deal w/ his other deep seated issues —-> Romance (if we’re going for that otome game kinda thing i guess???))

I can just imagine Majid temporarily visiting the Land of Hot Sands w/ MC after befriending him and finding out the truth about his parents through his boss at the curio shop; MC encourages him to travel north to pay a visit at some facility b/c it’s rumored that at least his father is still alive

(No idea what happened to Lara; probably suffered worse consequences due to making several prison breaks; had decently powerful magical abilities, so that would probably explain the whole forced amnesia thing that happened after their disappearance)

Majid is torn b/w wanting to go alone b/c this is a personal matter (And he wants MC to be safe) and being scared of losing MC if something horrible happens to him on his journey north; he knows what it’s like to be suddenly abandoned, and he doesn’t want that for anybody, especially for someone he cares about

He doesn’t want to repeat his father’s mistakes, regardless if it was accidental or not

Majid decides to go on his own; probably had some touching parting w/ MC; maybe we’ll go full otome and have a hugging CG where he swears that he will be back for MC

And MC is just like “Aight;;; cool;;; good luck;;”; something sentimental like that

Couple of days passed; we’re worried about him

He returns with a worried look on his face before breaking into a relieved smile when he sees MC; power walks to hug them even tighter than before

Majid thanks them for all they’ve done; he then spends the rest of the day and well into the night describing all he’s experienced and his visit with his dad

They go back to NRC and Majid is less bratty than before, much to the surprise of Jamil and to the delight of Kalim; actually starts to make an effort to not push people away at every opportunity (b/c he originally felt like they all had their own hidden agenda and were just using him for their own gain, y’know)

Boi becomes even more clingy towards MC; by that, I don’t mean he’s overly attached to them (he’s afraid of making the same mistake he did in the past), but rather he shows it through light casual touches here and there (a brush of the fingers when exchanging papers, patting MC’s head when they do something well, gently tugging at their sleeve when he needs their attention) and constantly checking up on them to see how they’re doing

Awkward levels in Majid increase as he constantly wonders if he’s crossing a line when it comes to him showing any kind of affection; he doesn’t want to come off as creepy and make MC hate him

Might also resist being given love and affection at first; but once he gets used to it, he absolutely m e l t s

Cuddles are 👌; might give teary eyes if MC tries to leave early during a cuddling session, but he won’t pressure them to stay; a touch starved boi

Doesn’t think much of PDA, giving or receiving; full on making out and anything further is kind of a no-go, tho; hugging is nice and so are short and sweet kisses; will glare at anybody who says anything about it

If his s/o was clingier than he is, he might get a little embarrassed; same thing goes if his s/o was really cute

Definitely the type of boyfriend to buy random gifts for his s/o b/c these things reminded him of them

Younger Majid was in full on puppy mode all the time, or at least when he was around people he liked; also a huge people pleaser too, since he was afraid of them leaving him

He was probably reckless too in order to entertain his friends

Was really polite, especially when it came to adults; always calling them Mister and Miss(us)

He was also just loud

Future Majid (if he came to terms with most of his problems) would be more mellow than his teenage self; still anti-social but he’s less angry at the world now; would go on to own the curio shop after the previous owner passed on; reverted it into both a jewelry/appraisal shop in order to honor his father plus respect the previous owner’s memory as well

Sells and repairs jewelry and appraises supposedly rare items that come through his store; still does odd jobs for the people in the neighborhood but his prices aren’t as outrageously high as he made them when he was younger

He names the new store after his mother, at the request of his father (plus I only recently heard the song “House of Gold” by Twenty One Pilots and hnnnmmg it fits well with this golden boy)

Majid is interested in most things related to jewelry, probably subconsciously influenced by his father; this includes repairing bits of jewelry; he moves delicately when it comes to these kinds of tasks

He’s a night owl; it’s much quieter at night

Has bad posture from sleeping in different weird places

His body is prone to heating up easily; the fact that he lives in the Land of Hot Sands and was also sorted into Scarabia is just unfortunate luck

Sneaks off to cooler areas on campus in his free time to chill; one of his favorite spots is the Octavinelle lounge since it’s air conditioned and dark, and he can get away with taking a nap before going over his time limit and getting kicked out

The library is nice too (´∀｀)

Would like to go to Ignihyde too, but he’s put off by the feeling of being underground (gotta have that bit of irony like Jamil being afraid of bugs 👌)

He tolerates Kalim better than Jamil; probably b/c the latter scolds him for slacking off

Actually went to Kalim for tutoring advice once before realizing part of the way that his senior had no idea what he was doing; Jamil has earned his respect when it comes to academics

Kinda jealous of the duo’s stamina; Majid’s usually heaving for air after long marches or if he’s ever chosen as a backup dancer for one of Scarabia’s many parties; he’s the ( ・∇・) least athletic of my OCs...

No, he can’t dance, but he can feign the movements well enough to not get caught

#twisted wonderland oc #twst ocs #twisted wonderland ocs #twst oc #twst oc art #art #twisted wonderland oc art #writing #my art #my post #Majid #mun taro speaks #everytime i post about my ocs i see that one twitter post flash inside my mind #the one that goes like #me to my followers: hey im sorry i havent been posting about my ocs that much but #followers: ??? wait??? you have ocs???#I LOVE SLEEPING TOO MUCH IM SORRY #anyway yeah heres my boy #its mostly just character stuff b/c ive gone over most of his background in his profile and his parents post #will i do the same for the other kids i have?? maybe if i get the energy to...#im just biased for majid #if you managed to get through everything on here congrats #you have my love and undying loyalty from now on #also i didnt really know where i was going with all of this #if it seems like im jumping from one idea to another its b/c i was

35 notes · View notes

merakiui · 4 years

Note

hey!! i was lucky enough to stumble across your blog, & i'm enjoying your writing!! could i request something for a first date w/ sian? maybe something more casual, like a cafe!

(I’m glad you like it! Hopefully this is what you had in mind with your request! I went for a “friends to lovers” vibe in a modern setting if that’s okay. Please enjoy and thank you for such a fun request!)

Courtesy Coffee (Sian)

You met under unpleasant circumstances. Sian was in a rush to get to his destination, and you were staring down at your phone with a cup of iced coffee in your other hand. Like that banal trope in shoujo manga, the two of you crashed into one another, and your drink spilled all over his outfit. As complete strangers, it was obvious that the one who was drenched would be incredibly frustrated. That was an exact observation, only Sian didn’t feel the need to use a filter that day.

“Are you kidding me? Watch where you’re going!” he had yelled, gripping his soaked shirt and glaring daggers at you. “How am I supposed to show up to work looking like this?!”

Anyone would feel frightened with his exasperated tone of voice and the intimidating aura that surrounded him, but you weren’t one to surrender immediately.

Straightening your shoulders, you met his heated stare. “I’m sorry. At least it wasn’t hot, right?” Hoping to dispel his anger, you smiled a little. “I can buy you a clean shirt if it’ll make you feel better.”

He puffed his cheeks out, suddenly bashful as he avoided your gaze. “It’s the least you could do! Seriously, this is the worst. I smell just like your stupid coffee.”

“Hey, don’t diss my iced coffee. It’s delicious and you know it.”

“If it’s so good, why is it all over me?” he snapped, crossing his arms. “This’ll stain, you know!”

“I offered to get you another shirt.”

“It’s not just on my shirt, you moron! I can’t face my colleagues like this. You have no idea what they’ll say.”

“Suck it up then!”

“No!”

You sighed heavily, gripping your empty coffee cup. “There’s no need to be difficult. Just let me get you a clean polo and slacks. Unless you’d rather parade around in wet, coffee-smelling attire. You’re making a scene with all of your yelling.”

“You were just yelling, too. Fine, whatever. I guess you can do that.”

Even as you spied his blush, you couldn’t ignore your thoughts. Is he seriously embarrassed by the fact that I’m getting him clothes? Anyone would do this to repay the damage.

“That’s all I needed to hear. Oh, and for the record you’re the one who should watch where you’re going.”

He didn’t take those words too well. Regardless, that was how you met the guy with a loud mouth and an even louder personality. You ran into him twice after that incident, and each time he seemed to stumble over himself. He tried to thank you for the clothes, but all he could manage was a huff and an angry comment about how the fabric was uncomfortable. Weeks later, that same boy just so happened to feel bad about starting a few shouting matches with you during those three times you interacted. He saw you in a café by chance and secretly covered your drink fee, making the barista promise not to reveal his identity. It was a sweet gesture, despite being anonymous and a bit of a shock on your end. You’d never experienced the magic that was receiving your drink for free, but it was great nonetheless.

You enter work that morning with a cheery disposition, passing by coworkers and even engaging in kind banter with those who aren’t the friendliest. You clock in and make your way towards the elevator while scrolling through an online article. Hearing a familiar ping, you glance up, urging whoever’s inside to hold the door. There are four other people crammed within the area, all of whom are silently waiting for the elevator to rise. You push the button for your floor and relax. Momentarily, you glance around the enclosed space to see if you can recognize anyone from your department. Your eyes sweep from one person to the next, and you spot polite Nine at the very back.

You’re compelled to greet him, but someone stands in your way. Someone who bears an uncanny resemblance to the guy who was showered in iced coffee two weeks ago. You gasp and turn away, hoping he won’t notice you.

No way! We work for the same company? What’re the odds? This must be a bad omen! I don’t want to start another fight with him, you think, having done your best to erase those memories.

The elevator pings, and you’re completely distracted. Though you don’t miss the hand that taps your shoulder. Your gaze follows his arm. It’s that guy again.

“Hey. This is your floor, isn’t it?”

The number doesn’t lie, but Sian’s memory might as he struggles to recall your familiar features. It clicks just as you bolt out of the elevator, the doors slipping shut and obscuring your backside for good. Sian blinks rapidly as his face heats up. That was...

Coffee idiot! he thinks. There’s no mistaking that stupid look on their face. He’s thrown into a bad mood at once, internally grumbling as he remembers that day. Even if he changed into new clothes, he still smelled of coffee. It was embarrassing, and his bothersome colleagues wouldn’t leave him alone. And now we work in the same building. Maybe I should just quit so I don’t have to face them.

"Can you believe it, Youssef?” you ask your deskmate, having ranted to him while typing up the progress of this week’s publication. At least that’s a monetary positive for the company. You can’t say the same for your mentality, though. “I do something nice in return and he yells at me. And then we meet again—twice—and he’s still rude.”

Youssef tilts his head, a childish gesture for someone his age. “Are you sure you’re not incorrectly reading his actions?”

“I’m positive. When have I ever been wrong?” You frown as your fingers slow their pace on the keyboard. “I just found out today that we work in the same building. This is totally unfair. Why do I have to bear the burden of knowing this information?”

“I’m sure he means well. What does he look like? I might know him.” You describe him to your helpful colleague, who nods and taps his chin in thought. His expression lights up with recognition. “If I remember correctly, his name is Sian, and he’s in the marketing department. We’ve only talked briefly, but I can assure you he’s quite diligent with his work.”

“Well, everyone’s got their own personality outside of their jobs.”

“I suppose, but it’s not polite to label someone based off of such little knowledge,” he advises lightly, turning his attention back to his computer screen. “Rather than using all of your energy painting a bad image of him, you should spend that time getting to know him. It’ll fix any negative impressions you may have.”

“Something tells me he wouldn’t like that...”

Since then, you haven’t run into Sian once. At first you made it your mission to keep an eye out for him, but now that you’ve been busy with this new project you can’t be bothered to let his image clutter your mind. So you brush him aside like a cobweb, certain you won’t bump into him again. Your floors are far enough apart, so it’s unlikely that that’ll happen. But you’re not always the luckiest, and fate tends to tease those who aren’t on good terms with one another.

You’re close to running late on a rainy day, having missed the train, so now you’re doing everything you can to catch a taxi. Cars speed by on the road, and you fail to flag down a vehicle. Dejected and soaked to the bone, you drag your feet along the slick sidewalk, wishing for your next paycheck so that you can put it towards a used car. Speaking of cars, one slides past you as it makes an effort to park along the walkway. In doing so, the tires kick up a huge puddle, effectively soaking your lower half. As if the day couldn’t have gotten any worse. The car almost moves out of the spot before it halts, and the window steadily rolls down to reveal the face of your greatest enemy.

Well, he’s not technically your greatest enemy, but it really feels like it in that moment.

“Do you need a ride?” As if correcting himself, he quickly adds, “I’m not doing this because it’s you! I’m just sympathizing.”

Does it matter? you wonder, bitter and cold and wet. Karma is so brutal.

“You’re Sian, right?” You approach his car, peering in at the flustered man. “From marketing.”

“Y-Yeah. So what?”

“I’m in publishing.” Awkwardly, you look up at the cloudy sky. “It’s really coming down. The forecast didn’t call for this much rain.”

“Are you getting in or not?”

“But you’re a stranger,” you jest, fixing him with a pout. “I don’t want scary Sian to kidnap me.”

He glowers at your joke. “I’m leaving now. I don’t have time for this.”

You hold back a chuckle, tearing open the door before he can drive off. “Wait! Sorry, I’ll get in. I can’t stand another minute in this rain.”

The window slides up, and he sets the car in motion after you’ve buckled up, easing back into the flow of traffic smoothly. Now that you’re sitting there with the AC blowing cool air at your face, you shudder. Oh, how wonderful it must feel to be in clothes that are warm and untouched by the rain. In his peripheral, Sian catches your shivering form, and he switches the AC from cold air to hot. You might not dry as quick as one would hope, but at least it’s something.

The silence is utterly tense. You almost expect him to bicker with you like he did in the past. Instead, he’s focused on the winding road ahead. Though you don’t miss the pink hue that tints his cheeks and gradually rises to his ears.

“So,” you say, if only to get a conversation going. “How’s work?”

“Fine, I guess. How did you know who I was?”

“My friend Youssef.”

“Oh.”

“You probably don’t know me. I’m (Name).”

“I already know.”

“Really? Stalker.”

“I’m not a stalker!” he exclaims, glaring hard at the windshield. “You’re kind of hard to miss.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re always so loud at our company parties. How can anyone ignore that?” Sian then proceeds to bless your ears with a story from this year’s holiday party. A few departments got together and went out for drinks and karaoke. Naturally, you had a drinking contest with your colleagues, which led to a tipsy night of bad singing and stumbling from one bar to the next. You were surprised Sian remembered that, mainly because you couldn’t recall seeing him there. And it’s been months since that rowdy night. “Do you see my point?”

“Don’t remind me. That hangover hurt my soul.”

He quirks a smile at that. “It’s not flattering when you sing high notes in the wrong key.”

“Like you could do any better.”

“I can because I was sober.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes, gazing out at the scenery that passes by in a blur of dull colors. Without meaning to, you eye Sian’s reflection in the window, taking note of his side profile. He’s actually quite handsome when he’s calm and not acting so stubborn. “I guess we’re even now.”

“Even?”

“I spilled coffee on you, and you splashed me when your tires hit that puddle.”

“Am I supposed to buy you clothes now?”

“If you’re offering...”

“I wasn’t offering!”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got a spare uniform in my locker.”

I wasn’t worried to begin with, you coffee idiot, Sian thinks, gripping the steering wheel. He keeps track of your occasional trembling, and he can’t help but feel troubled. You’ll catch a cold if you don’t dry off soon. Suddenly, he regrets pulling up beside you and accidentally sending water flying in your direction. This time it was definitely his fault, wasn’t it? Sian wants to make it up to you, but it’s impossible. He’ll die of embarrassment before he succeeds in performing a good deed in front of you.

Truthfully, he’s always noticed you. The very first instance was last year at the company’s drinking party. You were glued to Youssef’s side, engaging in idle chatter with him and another guy he wasn’t too familiar with. At the time, Sian thought your behavior was obnoxious. No one wants their younger coworker clinging to them. It just made you look like an attention-seeking puppy. Although you were definitely upbeat at that party. He had watched you chug an entire pint of beer like it was nothing and then join in on a pointless game of Ten Fingers with enough energy to put a child to shame.

He thought you were annoying at first, and yet there was something captivating about your personality. He’d never had the guts to approach you outright, so when he ran into you that day all of his frustrations just spilled over. He was angry at himself for not having the courage to talk to you at every company party, and now that he had a chance he couldn’t think of what to say. He hadn’t mentally prepared anything! So he said the first thing that came to his mind, which passed through his unfiltered lips in a very abrupt manner.

But you didn’t show any fear. You hardly flinched. Instead you met his words with a few of your own, and that’s what ruffled Sian’s feathers. You were so good at communication, and he was very much unskilled, usually relying on phrases he prepared in his head. It’s not like he couldn’t talk. He could when he was interested in a certain subject or whenever he was reading from a page, but in front of someone he admired... Sian knew he’d make a fool of himself.

Now that you’re sitting in the passenger seat of his car, he has every opportunity to say what he wants. Yet the words scramble in his brain, and he can’t calm his racing heart. Before he can think of anything witty, the building comes into view, and the parking garage has never seemed so dismal. Sian’s kicking himself as he parks, disappointed with how he handled that situation.

“Thanks for this. I’ll go on ahead.” You unbuckle, holding your briefcase and squeezing water from your blazer. “I’m sorry if I got your seat wet.”

“It’s...fine.”

You’re going to walk away and then he’ll become the coffee idiot. He opens his mouth to say something that’ll stop you, but you turn around at the right moment.

“Let’s get coffee sometime in the future. You deserve it after all the trouble I gave you,” you propose, smiling earnestly. And I feel guilty for my initial judgement. Youssef was right.

Sian’s eyes widen, and he struggles to remain stoic. “Oh, uh...”

“That’s okay with you, right?”

“I guess. Whatever works for you.” He shrugs.

“Great!” You retrieve a pen from your case and close the distance between the two of you. Humming, you snatch his hand, spreading his fingers so that his palm is wide open. And then you scribble something on it, grinning in satisfaction. Sian stares at you the entire time, his face blank and head filled with static. “Text me the days you’re available. See you later!” You tuck the pen away, hastily dashing in the direction of the elevator.

Sian stands there for a moment, slack-jawed. He forces himself to look down at his hand. Your number is written on his skin in smudged ink. His face erupts in a flurry of red. That coffee idiot...

------

“It’s not a date,” Sian mutters as he walks to the café. “It’s not. Stop thinking that way.”

But maybe it is a date, the voice in the back of his mind whispers, goading him into believing so. He dressed as casually as possible, but he still hopes it’ll impress you. There are plenty of fears that flood his head, and he almost turns around as soon as he gets to the entrance. But he’s come this far, and he’d regret it forever if he left now. This might be his only chance; he can’t afford to pass it up. So he pushes open the door in search of you. It doesn’t take long to locate your form amongst the few who are inside. Sian’s pulse rushes into overdrive, and he clenches his jaw.

It’s not a date. Act natural.

You look up from your phone just as he slides into the seat across from you. A warm smile blossoms across your face, and you tuck your mobile away. “Sian, you made it! I was worried you wouldn’t come.”

“It’d be rude if I didn’t show up after you made all those plans.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Well, thank you. Now I won’t have to feel bad about Monday morning.”

You had felt bad? Sian’s cheeks must be burning intensely bright now, but there’s nothing he can do. “It’s your fault for being an idiot.”

You chuckle. “That makes two of us. One idiot ignored the forecast, and the other wasn’t watching where he was going.”

“Whatever. Just so we’re clear, I’m not as stupid as you.” He crosses his arms and huffs. “And you don’t have any taste. I mean, iced coffee? Really?”

“It’s good!” you insist. “You’re missing out. Everyone knows iced coffee is better than hot coffee.”

“Is it now? I don’t agree with that statistic.”

“You’re allowed to have your own opinion, Mr. Sian,” you tease. “Give me your drink order. I’ll go get it.”

“What? No way. I’ll pay.”

“As if! I’m treating you.”

“You already bought me clothes.”

“And now I’m going to buy you coffee. It’s to say thanks for picking me up during that storm.”

“I would’ve left you on that sidewalk if I knew you were going to make it a hassle now!”

“Just accept my kindness!”

Sian shuts his mouth, giving into your demand. He grumbles his order, and you’re very happy as you make your way towards the register to get the two of you drinks and pastries. He watches as you pay, releasing a soft sigh. It’s hard to say no to someone you’ve admired for so long. Sian’s not sure when he started to like you, but he’s certain these recent interactions have only added fuel to the burning fire residing in his heart. It’s embarrassing to think he’s even on a romantic outing with you, but it’s not like the two of you are close friends. So then what does that make this?

When you return to the window table, setting down the drinks and a plate with two strawberry bread puddings, he’s shaken from his daydreams. This is actually happening. It’s not just another fantasy he’s imagined while witnessing you drink your sanity away at parties.

“I’m not sure if you like strawberries, but I—“

“I guess it’s okay,” he interrupts, trying to hide the fact that he actually likes it very much.

“Good!” You ease into your chair. “You’re not as bad as I thought you were.”

He raises an eyebrow as he takes a sip from his latte. “Huh.”

“You seemed really upset when I spilled my coffee on you. But anyone would be, so it’s completely understandable. I thought you hated me because of that. When we saw each other again, you were pretty sensitive.”

“I’m not sensitive!” he snaps, proving your point. “That was a white shirt you ruined.”

“Will you feel better if you dump coffee on me?”

“What? Why would I do that? I’m not going to do something as petty as that!”

“Aw, so you do care.”

“I don’t. Get lost.”

You break out into a laughing fit, genuinely amused at his coldness. Even if he doesn’t want to show it, he’s quite nice, and you’re relieved that he didn’t turn out to be a bully seeking revenge. Then again, it’s been weeks since that incident.

“It’s not funny!”

“Sorry, sorry. You’re just so expressive. It’s hard not to laugh.”

A furious red darkens his face, and he decides to fumble with his fork in order to give his hands something to do. The bread pudding is surprisingly delicious. He fumes in his embarrassment while he eats.

Eventually, the two of you converse about work and that project your department took on. Sian listens to your rambling as you go on and on about how irksome it is when last-minute changes are made to a finalized draft. He enjoys every story you tell him, and by the time the plate is empty he feels as if he’s grown closer with you. Could this be the beginning of a friendship? He’s hit with a sudden wave of inspiration for lyrics that will never be sung. At least they can fester on a page in his notebook, where he’ll return on countless occasions to proofread and debate over the meaning of each line. Oh, how he’d love to share his music with you. It’ll take a while before he does something as bold as that, though.

“I just got an idea! There’s this awesome bar thirty minutes from work. I usually go with my friends because they’ve got a bunch of games you can play. Board games, card games—you name it. We should go one of these days.”

“R-Really?”

“Yeah! You seem like a fun guy to hang out with. Card games might sound boring, but they’re actually really fun when you’re playing for money. And when you’ve got a few drinks in your system.”

Sian struggles to hide the giddy smile that threatens to split his lips. “No... It sounds perfect. I’m actually really good at Slapjack, so be prepared to lose miserably!”

“Is that a challenge? What should we wager?”

"How about a meal? Loser has to pay for the winner’s lunch.”

“All right. It’s a deal. I’ll keep you updated on my schedule so that we can choose a weekend to meet up.”

“Sure!” Sian’s face won’t stop heating up and he can’t slow his erratic heartbeat. “I mean, I’ll only do it so I can get a free lunch. It’s not like I’m agreeing for your sake.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever floats your boat.”

His chest feels airy and light, almost as if he’s in a dream. Your words weigh on his conflicted heart. How can anyone make plans so easily? If the roles were reversed, he’d be an absolute mess. It’d be so embarrassing; Sian would probably want to curl up and disappear if he ever tried to ask you out on his own volition. You probably don’t even feel the same way. After all, this is merely two coworkers having a normal conversation. But he can’t get stuck in the friend zone. That’d be the worst outcome to all of this. So in the meantime he’ll do his best to act cordial. He can hide his shy demeanor and fluffy feelings behind a blunt attitude.

“All of this planning makes it seem like we’re a couple,” you muse with flirtatious intent. Leaning back in your chair, you gauge Sian’s reaction. Just as you figured, he’s turning crimson. It’s honestly endearing to see him get so flustered. “What do you think, Sian?”

“I... I don’t know. Don’t say stupid things! It’s really annoying.”

No matter how sharp his words are, you know he doesn’t mean it. After all, his expression clearly refutes those claims.

“Sian and (Name), sitting in a tree—“

“Shut up!”

If this isn’t a date, then what’s with all the flirting?

Sian’s going to have to take a cold shower when he gets home to lower his body temperature. And to scrub away the embarrassment that’s washed over him like rain.

It’s not a date. It’s just coffee with an acquaintance. Yeah. Just courtesy coffee.

He couldn’t be any further from the truth.

#after l!fe #afterl!fe #afterl!fe sian #afterl!fe x reader #afterl!fe the sacred kaleidoscope #afterl!fe sian x reader #sian x reader #oneshot

48 notes · View notes

babyeijra · 3 years

Text

Socially Anxious INFJ Introvert

January 22, 2021

Okay, so it’s been a while since I last made an entry in this blog

I feel like I had to write something about what happened today because I wanted to get over something that I know will bug me if I don’t vent it or say anything about it.

I have always known that I have social phobia. Even without being clinically tested or what do you call it, psychological testing or diagnosis from a professional(?), I know I have social anxiety. I just don’t know what degree, but I know it’s there. Since elementary and high school, I was a quiet kid. I never speak unless spoken to, I don’t even interact with relatives, cousins, or strangers I just met. I have always been like that. I was afraid to be called in class, I get mental blocks when I get called even when I know the answer (this really happened), that’s why I don't participate in class recitations, and activities (unless forced). If I get called, my mind blanks, my heart pounds so hard, and I could feel the blood rush through my whole body and to my brain. Then if I stutter, I feel like I don’t know what I was saying, l feel like I’m being laughed at secretly and I would think of it hours, even days after what happened. And I learned that by writing it and reading more about my condition, and reading from other people’s (with social anxiety) experiences, that’s when I could get past one mistake or move on from my shame. When I read that there are others just like me and have experienced what I went through or going through, is only when I could move on from ONE mistake. But then, until when am I going to be like this? I honestly thought I got passed this social anxiety. That what I had was just acute social phobia, nothing too serious, that I will not experience anxiety to my adulthood, that I could now proceed of dreaming to be a lawyer since I passed high school, college, and now a CPA working in the government. I got passed a lot of interviews when I was just trying to find work as a fresh graduate. I thought, maybe nervousness during interviews, or presentations is just normal?

But now that I think about it, I had always needed days, even weeks of preparation and practice to get passed simple interviews. I had always had sleepless nights thinking of the days of interview. In high school I had always needed to study 5 times, even 10 times harder just so I wouldn’t get left behind, because I lack class participation. I always though I was stupid or stupidest person in class, I had always envied my classmates who can get through being called and being made to stand to answer and yet giving the wrong answer, because they seem like they were answering a question like it’s nothing, being called to stand is nothing, reporting in front of class is nothing, speaking and interacting with others is nothing. But for me, it’s not a simple “nothing”. I would think about it, I would remember my embarrassment when I stutter, or get mental blocks and gave the wrong answer, I would remember the judging stares (my mind probably had created).

I could recount, even today, how my high school English teacher, embarrassed me had called me to answer the last question, in front of everyone. The previous questions I had mentally answered and got them all right, after they were discussed or when my classmates had got it also right after they were called to answer. It was coincidental or I don’t know, that the last question was given to me. I had already made up my mind on the answer to the last question before being called. But when I was called, I don’t know what happened. My mind went black, and every symptoms of a social anxious person (from what I read from others’ experiences), I had really felt. I missed to give the right answer which I had already made up before. It just went away, I tried many times and I still had given a different answer, During that time, I really forgot what I answered in my head. Didn’t I say, I went blank? And so this teacher made it worse by saying, “If you got the highest score in the exam, you have to prove it, otherwise I would think you cheated” (nonverbatim). Okay now that I think about it, was she allowed to say that to a student? (I want to know the answer to this). I felt embarrassed then, but no one can deny the fact, that I did get the highest score on her exam. I really studied hard (like five times hard) and I listened well in class in high school and not because I wanted to compete with others, but I really had an interest to learn, and I also thought I was stupid and might fail (because of my lack of participation) that’s why I had to recoup by studying. I had the lowest self confidence and self esteem then. It was the lowest of the low. Surprisingly, actually, I graduated high school as salutatorian, and I dreaded it. I never wanted to be salutatorian. I never want to make a speech in front of many people, on the stage in an open space, at the University Quadrangle. I thought, maybe I’ll just get the “1st honorable mention” (3rd in the batch) or even 5th place, because I knew, what would pull me down (even though I sometimes or often times get the highest scores in exams and quizzes; Math, Science, Physics, and others included. Okay maybe except Filipino) was my lack of participation.

But yeah. Surprised? I was the salutatorian? Although it made me proud after I learned this from our class adviser (also our trigonometry teacher), but the next second I felt was, dread. “Oh shoot! I had to make a speech. I had to speak in front of everyone!”. Did you know, I even cried inside the Teacher’s room, in front of all the teachers, when we, I and another classmate who was the valedictorian, was asked to rehearse our speech in front of them? I was so nervous, I was crying while I was trying to speak (and the tears were not happy tears). I was so nervous that it made me cry. Can you imagine that? And you know what, the teachers actually thought? That I was crying because of happy tears, but I said to them, it’s because, “Gina kulbaan ako”(I’m really nervous). I should tell you, that when I said “crying”, I was spasm-sobbing (you know that sound you make when you cry, you get breathing spasms or hiccups) and had runny nose. I was a mess inside that teacher’s room. When I got out, my valedictorian classmate asked, “Ngaa nag hibi ka?” (Why did you cry). Yup, this happened. I need not relay to you what happened during the graduation. It would take up the time. Oh yeah!, I tried to think of ways to skip delivering the Salutatory Speech, like searching “how to get colds” so my voice will get coarse. I guess I would say, I never want to experience that (Salutatory Speech) again! And I had more also experiences in college. Like when we had to stand in front of the Audio Visual Room. And recite a (I think it was a long poem or verse). I was able to memorize it, but when I got in front. Well, you guessed it. I panicked and had a mental block. *sigh*

Wow, I actually made a long entry about my high school experiences as a Socially Anxious INFJ Introvert. I haven’t even gotten work experience yet. Huh!

I guess I need to let everyone first know the struggle of being a Socially Anxious Introvert from childhood experience POV, or what one feels like when speaking in front of everyone. So please, don’t judge this entry. What happened today, during our online Legal research class was, we had an oral exam about a hearing observation we had of a case. It was the easiest question by our Professor (who is a MCTC Judge) I think out of everyone’s. But I wasn’t prepared for the easiest question. I prepared for different questions and not the one she asked. So yeah, I blanked, stuttered and I guess and most probably flunked. Now you may be asking. Why did I enter Law School if I have a Social Anxiety? If you really read everything above, you’ll get the answer.

PS, I used at least 2 and a half hours of writing this entry. I have final exams next week. But I know I really couldn’t concentrate if all I think about was what happened 3 hours ago. I wanted to move on from a mistake and embarrassment. I really feel like and did sound stupid answering that SIMPLE question.

Now, what do you think? Should I give up Law School? Or try and conquer my fears in Law School? Do I even have a chance? Do you think I’m being brave? or being stupid for taking up Law but can’t even speak properly.

Any answer from anonymous person will be appreciated. Even if it’s a discouraging answer. I should accept the truth, whatever truths there would be. When I said, “don’t judge” I don’t mean it. Judge all you want really. It is the fact of the world. We even do it unconsciously.

PSS (is there such?), I have found a site (just now, while looking for pictures) that also talks about dealing with Social Anxiety in Law School (http://www.thelegalduchess.com/2018/08/dealing-with-social-anxiety-in-law.html). So I guess I’m not the only one. (by Sam Smith lol, unrelated content but still a good song).

Will take time to read it. But, I need to study after this entry. (ugh! 😖The horror, I have a lot to cover for the finals and I have wasted so much time). I feel a lot better after writing this. So I guess it was not wasted time after all.

PPS: 12:17 am more than 4 hrs since my bad recit. I still can't concentrate. I have now been watching youtube about moving on from bad recits. I still cringe everytime I remember it, quite often. That's why I dont think I can remember what I read. Also, I'm writing this because I remember something. Studying harder is now 10 times harder to do in law school, especially if you are a full time, full load, working student. I couldn't prepare well for the next class, and I couldn't prepare for all possible questions as a Socially Anxious INFJ Introvert (which means all questions my mind could think of, because like I said, there'd be no time). And what makes it more embarrassing and humiliating, I have a classmate who is also a coworker (she's in a different work group) and her husband is also my coworker in the same work group.

#note #notes #Social Anxiety #Introvert #INFJ #Shame #Embarrassment #Dream #COL #Law Student #First Year #social anxiety disorder #experience

10 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

agirlcalledsam

A GIRL CALLED SAM

ronniesart

Ronnie 💖’s RarePairs

ldnlaconnection-blog

LDNLA connection

therealhighstreethoney

The Real High Street Honey

james-baeder

Hot Old Dudes, Anyone?