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bumblequinn · 6 months

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hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.

as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)

but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:

changing expectations

the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!

my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.

when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.

so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?

with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.

with that in mind:

#1: work slower

when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.

instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.

i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!

now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.

doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.

however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:

#2: switch projects

sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.

this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.

the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.

what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.

but it doesn't have to stop there.

#3: switch focus

maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?

let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:

what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today. okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now. alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily? what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?

and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?

what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for? what if i try sampling something obscure? what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?

any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.

or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.

but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:

#4: learn something new

when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.

for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴‍☠️)

it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)

that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:

music theory and composition music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang

mixing and production dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix

general inspiration nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!

(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)

of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:

#5: consume art you love

not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.

but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.

and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.

what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.

as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.

none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.

and finally,

#6: rest, and live your life

let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?

take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).

it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.

i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.

when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)

before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:

be kind to yourself.

being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.

i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.

i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.

thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.

with care, bee 🐦

#adhd #advice #asks #from #sourpatchsquids

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girlbot666 · 1 year

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advice for university students who have a hard time getting work done aka the things that my ADHD-having ass needed 3 fucking semesters to learn :

1. go to class. GO TO CLASS. yes, even if the lectures are recorded. yes, even if you have other work you really need to do right now. you will fall behind if you don't and it will suck. next time you have class you will think, "I can't go to class today because I still haven't caught up with the material from the previous class" and then you'll do that several times and then you'll haven fallen really far behind and it will really suck. when you show up to class, keeping up with assignments will just naturally follow.

2. do not try to get work done in your room. it will not happen. no matter how much you don't want to leave, you have to do it, you have to leave. go to a library, or a cafe, or even just a different room in your house/dorm if you don't want to change out of your pjs (and even if you're one of those people who *can* get studying done in your room [couldn't be me], separating the environments you work in and relax in will feel so much better, i promise!).

3. go to office hours. if it's one of those STEM class office/peer tutoring hours where lots of people are being helped at once, it's especially important that you go. the material is designed to be challenging and you're not expected to be able to do it on your own. it's also a great way to hold yourself accountable to getting the work done on time. literally just put on some noise-cancelling headphones and work on stuff there until you have a question.

4. start on your big assignments EARLY. working on one essay or project and almost nothing else for 2 days straight leads to burnout. start at least 2 weeks in advance, and work on it everyday for just an hour, maybe 2. setting time-based goals is key here. it makes the assignment feel less intimidating. it's easy to convince yourself to work on it even if you don't want to because, hey, it's only an hour. once you start getting bored or frustrated, it's not too hard to power through, since it's only an hour. and if you're getting super distracted and really struggling to focus you can switch gears to something else guilt-free, and then return to it tomorrow with fresh eyes and a fresh mind.

5. inevitably, you'll fuck up. you'll do poorly on a test, you'll miss an assignment, you'll not understand things you're learning in class, you'll get nervous during a presentation. some days, you might not even fuck up necessarily, you'll just feel bad. when it happens, take a step back. acknowledge and honor your emotions. you might feel sad or disappointed or ashamed. treat yourself with kindness and compassion. try not to judge yourself, recognize that your feelings are natural and normal. take care of yourself like you would take care of a friend who was in your position. do some easy assignments, then wrap up work early. eat something, talk to someone or journal about it, do some cleaning, take a shower, and go to bed early. maybe it feels like you shouldn't because you have too much work to do, but trust that addressing your heavy emotions is more productive than just powering through. personally, if i don't do this, the feeling of shame lingers in my subconscious and i spiral for several days. like, don't get out of bed or eat or do any work kind of spiraling. perhaps the consequences are not as material for you. regardless, honoring your emotions and treating yourself with compassion is a life-long skill that is always worth practicing. your mental health will thank you for it.

#this would normally be a journal entry #but i thought my fellow depression/ADHD queens might benefit from some of this #or anyone else obvs!#studyblr #mental health #ADHD #university #college advice #adhd tips

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izvmimi · 5 months

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malevolent enterprise ch. 4

cw: ceo!au. in which you, the reader, meet ceo itadori for the first time. reader wears a dress and heels. header by @/cafekitsune! masterlist

“A pleasure to meet you finally.”

Yuuji’s smile is wide and friendly as he rises out of his seat upon his interviewee’s entry. You, having just been led into his office by a rather flustered appearing secretary, the type that is doing her best but her best is at best subpar, are still trying to control your expression when you meet face to face with him. You do your best to offer him a smile, taking advantage of your disarming features, and in a few measured steps, stride across the room to your seat, taking his hand in a gentle handshake before having a seat.

“Thank you for having me, sir.”

You smooth out the back of your skirt as you sit, thanking the heavens that you haven’t had some mishap with your pantyhose, as is the tendency. You usually prefer a pantsuit, but you’ve been told that Itadori Enterprises is on the conservative side, so you’re clad in the only suit-skirt combo you own paired with sensible pumps instead of loafers, hoping that you make it through the day without mishap. The young man in front of you does not appear very conservative, you think, and in fact something about his relatively cheerful expression and pink hair gives him an air of childishness. Keeping your own countenance just shy of neutral yet warm, you focus your eyes on him.

“I’m happy you were willing to interview me this early. I was very excited to see that you reached out for an interview in less than 48 hours of my application, and I would like you to know that I’d be honored to be considered for such a coveted position.” You begin.

Yuuji nods, but says nothing else. He appears to be studying you, which is surprising but preferred to the outright ogle that you’ve had in your past couple of interviews this week, so rather than dwell on it, you consider an opportunity to continue speaking.

“As mentioned in my cover letter and resume, I’ve had years of experience at Gojo Corp., and while I’ve left amicably in search of other opportunities, I am very capable of transferring valuable skills learned there to your organization,” you finish. He’s let you speak for long enough, and asked you very few questions, and you decide you might as well end your monologue strong and hope for the best.

Amicable is somewhat of a stretch, but you continue to say it without hesitation. What really happened is you’d slapped a resignation letter on your desk after weeks of responsibilities being heaped onto you at increasing intervals, in the midst of increasingly long vacations from your womanizing boss and more and more casually disrespectful speech. Satoru, for some reason, had decided that you were the one to play games with somewhere in the last three to six months of your tenure, and you frankly had run out of the coins to continue. When you’d finally quit, Satoru had nothing to say but finally, and before you could really take your time and lay into him, threatening a workplace harassment lawsuit, he’d clapped his hands together, thanked you for your time, and told you he was hoping you’d finally know your worth.

Leave, he asked, a glint in his eye. You genuinely deserve better than to be here, working with a peon like me.

The sarcasm stung until you realized he wasn’t being sarcastic in the way you expected. Gojo offered you enough severance pay to last you practically a year, knowing it was far from enough for what you've done for him.

I think you undervalue yourself, he said, an unsolicited piece of advice included with the hefty sum of money stuffed into a neat envelope. You never asked for a promotion, and took more and more work, to the point that you might as well have been running this place on your own, doing the job of ten people.

Angrily, you reminded him that he could have just treated you like a human being and you’d never have resorted to resignation, but he laughed, swinging his legs on the desk and leaning back into his chair, head resting on his palms.

You wouldn’t have been forced to know your worth, he’d said.

You didn’t like this type of support, but here you were, being considered for an executive position, something you would have never considered a year ago.

And this wasn’t the only one.

“From what I’ve seen of your application, you are absolutely impressive. I’m surprised Mr. Gojo had you doing middle management for so long.”

You resist the urge to make the joke, “you and me both,” but Yuuji seems to pause to expect it as though he is reading your thoughts. Instead you smile, and look down at your open portfolio. Then you look up and see that his mouth seems to have opened slightly in a small ‘o’ as though he’s surprised in anticipation of what you’ll say before you say it.

“I absolutely have the skills to be an executive at this company. I understand if you’d prefer someone internal and appreciate the opportunity to be considered. If I must be so bold, I would like to share that I already have been offered a similar position at another company, but I’m very particular to your company’s mission, and would much prefer to be here.”

Yuuji perks up in a way that makes you practically imagine dog ears on his person. He’s far too… cute, wet around the ears appearing to be in this sort of position, you think for a moment. Too easy to read. Too sincere.

“Where?” he asks, eyebrow raised. His light brown eyes seem to betray a premonition of the answer. You wonder if the brothers talk - you had spent enough time searching for any backstory to supplant what you’ve heard through the grapevine about the corporation’s split, but often financial matters and family matters do not completely align. You have heard that the two are not fond of each other, and that simple knowledge encourages you to move things in your favor.

“Ryomen Industries.”

Yuuji frowns. He pauses and mulls over this information and for a moment you wonder if you’ve overstepped, shifting in your chair and masking your discomfort with a quick cross of the legs, and folding your hands in your lap to prevent yourself from looking seductive. Yuuji however is not looking at you, his chin pressed to his fist suddenly as he thinks, staring at a fixed point at the wall, slightly off from you.

Then his eyes snap back towards you.

“Whatever they’ve offered you, I can offer you double or triple.”

Your eyes grow wide.

Unable to help it, the first thought that crosses your mind is No way he knows what he’s doing.

To quell your disbelief, you let your lips curl into a smile.

“Forgive my candor, but are you simply that impressed by me or do you simply refuse to lose?”

Yuuji blinks, taken aback by your speech, but you’ve realized by now that Yuuji has already hired you in your mind. You are not at any risk.

“Don’t mind that.” Yuuji smiles, this time the corners not reaching his eyes to the same extent, and he takes your portfolio.

“Are you willing to start tomorrow?” he asks. He clears his throat, and you know it to mean that the current subject has been tabled for later.

“Yes.”

Yuuji rises, and you rise as well. He rounds the desk to meet you, and now that he’s closer, you take a better, more focused look at him. Sweet-faced but quite handsome, you admit, with broad shoulders, and you spot a wrinkle in his suit that you’d consider smoothing out if you weren’t a stranger. His walk is more confident than it should be for a man you feel like you just conned. Something about all of this is far too easy, you think. You are suspicious.

Yuuji leads you out, walking a bit too quickly ahead of you, and while you keep up for the most part, you find yourself staring at the back of his head, then your eyes travel further to his backside, admiring the cut of his suit, the shine in his shoes. He’s tall, and he speaks softly to the confused secretary, reminding her to do her job and make sure to send you an email of your formal contract. He takes you on a very brief tour of the building, talking animatedly as you take the elevator with him. He smiles far too easily, too much, and the middle managers speak to him casually. You’re not sure if you like that.

He introduces you by your new title and you bow. They will not speak to you casually, is your first thought. At least, not at first.

You make a circle with him, and he shows you your supposed office. It’s a 2 minute walk from his, and appears similar, just slightly smaller, with one armchair placed in the corner, instead of a small sofa. It’s bare, and does not have your name on the plate on the door or on the desk. Somehow that is reassuring.

“Please let me know if the specifications are alright,” he asks.

That’s not his job, that’s his secretary or assistant’s job, you say in your head, but offer him a polite nod. He offers you another handshake.

“Glad to have you on our team.”

You haven’t signed the contract yet but he’s so earnest, you find yourself saying,

“Thank you for having me. I’m excited to work with you, Mr. Itadori.”

#yuuji x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #yuji itadori x reader #daydreams: jjk #mimi writes: malevolent enterprise #mimi's notes

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love2write2626 · 5 months

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The Producer This story is from my one-shot collection which is a spin off of the “I Wouldn’t be Complete Without You” 4 part series, you can find that series along with the one shots, and all my other TC stories on my Masterlist hope you enjoy

Y/N’s P.O.V

I walked around set looking for Tom, since he is a producer now they always have him all over set discussing things and sometimes he can be very hard to track down. As I was walking I bumped into someone and dropped my phone, and binder

“Oh, shit I’m so sorry” the man said

“No, it’s ok I’m a klutz by nature it was probably my fault” I said, as I picked up my stuff and stood up I made eye contact with the man, and was in awe at how good looking he is.

“Hey, you’re Tom’s assistant right?” It took me a minute to gather words… so pathetic

“Um, yes. Sorry I have a million things on my mind. Yes I am Tom’s assistant, My name is Y/N”

“Nice to meet you Y/N, my name is Chris Hall”

“Oh! Mr. Hall” I said. Chris isn’t a producer on the film but he works for the production company. The company is giving a huge amount of money towards this film. “I’ve heard Tom talk about you…”

“Yes, I work for the division of the company which deals with statistics and all that boring stuff” he said with a chuckle

“Well, I wouldn’t say boring. I mean you help the big wigs decide if a movie is worth producing” he stared at each other for a few seconds and then his phone rang

“Oh, sorry. I have to take this. It was very nice meeting you Y/N” he said walking off

“Well, well do my eyes deceive me… or did Y/N meet a man she likes” Katie said walking over to me with a bright smile

“Katie, don’t start” I said

“Y/N, you are a funny, smart, beautiful woman who deserves to be an a loving relationship. He is a good-looking guy” she said “I think he likes you”

“How can he like me, Katie? We just met two minutes ago” I sighed “plus I’m way to busy to date anyone”

“No, no that’s not true, and you know it! You should ask him out” she said

“What?!” Absolutely not!” I exclaimed

“Hey ladies” I heard Tom’s voice, he walked over and kissed Katie “What are you talking about… and why is Y/N as red as a tomato?”

“She likes Chris” Katie said with a smirk

“I do not! I haven’t even said more than two sentences to the guy” I said “Look, Katie I appreciate you trying to help me… but I just I’m not interested… not right now anyway” I looked over at Tom “C’mon I have to talk to you about a million things” I said pulling him away

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A few hours later, I am sitting in my room taking my shoes off when my door swings open. Katie walks in, and closes it quickly and practically throws a box at me.

“Katie, what the hell?”

“Get, showered and put that on! You’re going on a date with Chris tonight”

“What!?” I asked

“Before you accuse me of setting you up… he came over and talked to me. Asked if you were seeing anyone.”

“Katie” I sighed

“Y/N, you are always there to help everyone else. It’s your turn to go and have fun. Chris likes you… and maybe I shouldn’t have done the whole blind date thing… but you wouldn’t have gone for it if I didn’t”

“I know you’re trying to help”

“Y/N, you are my friend! You are completely over worked go out with him! What’s the worse that happens? You don’t like him, and don’t go another date?”

“Usually your logic would make sense… but he is still going to be on set everyday, if I don’t like him it will be super weird”

“It’s only weird if you make It weird” she said “Please, go and have fun”

“He is really good looking” she smiled brightly

“That’s it girl, get ready” she said running out of the room.

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I walked into the restaurant looking for Chris and I found him quickly, he was looking at the menu, and drinking some wine. He looked up and when we locked eyes he looked at me like nothing else existed.

“Hey” He said when I walked over, he got up and pulled my chair out for me before pushing me back in

“Hi, thank you” I said

“You look beautiful” he said, I know I’m blushing like an idiot

“Thank you. You look very handsome” I said

“Oh, I ordered some wine… I hope you like red”

“Red is my favorite” I said taking a sip “I’ve never been here before”

“Really? You’re going to love it. I like to come here often… and well most of the time it’s take out I’m always too busy to sit down and eat.” He smirked “but I had to make time for you”

“Ok, you really have to stop. I haven’t even been here 10 minutes and I’ve blushed way too many times” I giggled

“I can’t help it. I think you’re beautiful… and if we’re being honest… I may have bumped into you on purpose” I looked at him confused “This going to sound creepy… but its in a non-creepy way… I’ve been watching you” I raised an eyebrow “I said it was going to sound creepy… but I thought you were absolutely beautiful the moment I saw you” I tried to hide my blush and looked at the menu

“So Chris what’s good here?” I asked

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“You were right the food was amazing” I said giggling

“Not, as amazing as the company” he said

“Yeah, I have to admit your company was pretty great too” I said “This is me” I said when we walked over to my car

“Good enough for a second date?” he asked

“Yeah, I think I would like that” I said, he smiled brightly and I stood on my tippy toes to give him a hug and when we pulled apart we stared at each other

“I really want to kiss you” he mumbled, I decided to be bold for once

“What’s stopping you?” I asked, he smiled and leaned down for a kiss. The kiss is really nice… that’s a lie it was better than nice. This man really knows what he is doing. When we broke apart I said “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow” he said

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When I walked inside the house I was bombarded by Katie and Tom

“Why are you both still awake?” I asked

“Mr. Grumpy pants here refused to sleep until you got back… and well I had to know how I went” she asked

“It went great” I said, she smiled brightly

“Really?” she asked

“Yeah, we kissed”

“He, kissed you?” Tom asked shocked

“Yeah”

“That’s ridiculous you went out on one date… hell you only spoke for the first time today! He’s kissing you?”

“Zip it” Katie said “How was it?”

“Really good” she walked over and hugged me

“Thank you Katie”

“I’m so excited… now I am exhausted and going to bed” she said turning around and I couldn’t help but laugh. I looked over at Tom

“Are you mad?” I asked, his eyes softened

“Of course not. I just worry about you. I don’t want anyone to hurt you ever” I walked over and hugged him

“I know you won’t let anyone hurt me Tommy” I said and he groaned

“I hope you know, you’re the only one who gets away with calling me that” I rolled my eyes

“Good night” I said

“Night” he mumbled

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One date turned to two which quickly turned to 5 and then I lost count. Chris is an amazing guy, super smart, funny, and handsome. We were always together on set, and I could tell it was irritating Tom

“Y/N, I hate to be an asshole…”

“No you don’t” I giggled

“But you are here as my assistant you talk to your boyfriend later” I sighed knowing he is right

“See you later Chris” I said

“My place tonight?” he asked

“I’ll be there” I said

“So you guys are getting serious?” Tom asked

“I wouldn’t say serious yet… but I think its headed in that direction” I said biting my lip

“Look, I know you’re tired of hearing me say be careful… but be careful. There’s something about him that seems a little off” I rolled my eyes “Promise me, you’ll be careful… and if he treats you with the slightest disrespect you’ll drop him on his ass” I giggled

“Ok, Tom” I leaned up and kissed his cheek “Oh shit, I forgot to as Chris what to bring for dinner tonight… I’ll be right back” I ran back over and I saw Chris was already looking at me “Hey…”

“You kiss him?” he asked, I looked at him confused

“I always kiss him on the cheek, and he kisses me on the cheek. We’ve been doing that for years. I told you we’ve known each other since High School”

“His wife doesn’t mind?” he asked

“No, because she knows theres nothing going on between us”

“Interesting” he mumbled, and I smiled brightly

“Are you jealous?” I asked

“Maybe…” I leaned up and kissed his lips

“You have no reason to be, there never has been and never will be anything between Tom and I”

“Ok” he smiled

“What do you want me to bring tonight?” I asked

“Just your gorgeous self, and I’m going to make dinner for you”

“Ok, see you tonight”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Even though he told me not to bring anything, I still bought some cookies… just because I felt weird coming over empty handed. I headed towards the elevators, and saw the doors about to close so I ran

“Wait hold the door” I said, I made it just before it closed and part of me wished I hadn’t. In the elevator I saw Chris making out with some blonde “I guess I got here too early, huh?” I said throwing the cookies in the trash can next to the elevators and started walking away

“Y/N, Wait!” he yelled as I walked out of the building. Fuck, I feel like such an idiot. “Y/N wait a damn second”

“What?” I asked angrily

“Look, I didn’t kiss her she kissed me… she’s my ex and she wanted to get back together but I told her I was seeing someone”

“You really seemed to want her to stop” I said angrily

“You’re being such a hypocritical”

“What?”

“You’re allowed to kiss Tom but I can’t…”

“Woah slow your roll. I kiss Tom on the cheek. I don’t make out with him” I sighed “look, I was blinded by how good looking you are. You’re just like every other guy… and I’m glad it didn’t get too serious… because I can’t stand getting my heart broken” I started to walk away but he grabbed me and tugged me hard

“You get back here”

“Ow, Chris you’re hurting me”

“You are a hot piece of ass, and dating you means I have Tom in my back pocket. Tom would do anything for you” I wanted to cry

“So that’s why you asked me out?” I tried to tug away, but then he slapped me across the face and I gasped in shock

“You asshole. I’m leaving”

“No, you’re not! You are not allowed to leave this relationship till I say it’s over”

“You can’t force me to stay with you” I said

“Oh, yes I can. If you break it off, or tell anyone I hit you I’ll have the production company pull their funds”

“That’s an empty threat, you cant make the CEO just pull funds. You have no controlling interest” he smirked

“Oh, but I do, I’m the one they go to every month to make sure this is still a good project to be apart of.” I went wide eyed “Yeah, you know I’m right” he said, he let go of me. “Go, back to his house for the night, and don’t say a damn word” he said walking away

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When I got home, I walked in slouching a little

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Tom asked

“Nothing… Chis and I got into a small argument and I just… I’m tired I’m going to bed” I mumbled

“Are you sure you’re ok” he asked

“Tom thank you for worrying about me… but I promise I’m fine”

“Ok, sweetie. Good night” I feel horrible lying to him, I know all he wants to do is protect me

“Good night”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

5 months it’s been 5 months since I started dating Chris, and 5 months since I lost every ounce of happiness in me. Chris has taken all of it. I have to constantly hide bruises, with makeup so Katie and Tom don’t suspect anything. Chris is treating me like a rag doll, I refuse to have sex with him and when I do he hits me harder… but surprisingly never forces me to have sex

I walk into his apartment after a very long day on set, and he’s sitting on the couch watching some TV

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“On, set. You know that Tom works much longer hours than you do and…” he walked over and smacked me across the face

“Watch you’re tone with me” I looked at the ground

“Sorry” he smirked

“That’s better now… what do you say we go to the bedroom and”

“No!”

“I told you I’m not ready” he smacked me again “I’m not stupid I know you’ve been having sex with your ex… just go date her and leave me alone�� he grabbed me and yanked into the bedroom, throwing me on the bed. As he tried to crawl on me I kicked him hard and tried to run away but he grabbed my leg causing me to trip

“You thought you were so smart, huh” he picked me up like a rag doll and then punched me square in the eye, I screamed in pain

“That hurt, huh?” he said with a smirk, the sick bastard is enjoying this

“Next time you say no to me remember that” he said before walking away

It took me 10 minutes to find the strength to walk again, and I walked over to the mirror and gasped, my lip has a nasty gash in it and there is already a bruise forming around my eye. Fuck how am I going to hide this.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next morning I stayed in bed. I knew there was no way in hiding this forever… but I can delay it.

“Y/N?” Tom said walking in I quickly pulled the covers over my head “Hey, sleepy head are you feeling ok?” I wanted to throw myself in his arms and tell him everything. I can’t this movie is too big… I can’t ruin it for him. I let out a fake cough

“I’m sick” I said

“Do you have a fever?” he tried to touch my head

“Yes” I said quickly “If it’s ok with you… I’m going to stay home today” I mumbled

“Of course sweetie… if you ever need a break just let me know… I’m sorry if I overworked you”

“No, no Tommy” I said trying not to cry “Never, I just have a cold that’s all… I’ll be as good as new tomorrow”

“Ok, sweetie you get some rest” he said before walking out

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Not even 10 minutes later there was a knock on my door, and I heard Katie walk in

“Hey, Y/N? How are you feeling?” she asked

“Sick” I lied quickly, she sighed

“Tom, knows you’re lying. We’re actors we know a fake cough when we hear it… He sent me to check on you. I’ve been delaying it… but he’s noticing something has changed about. You’re not as happy anymore…”

“What am I supposed to do Katie? Show him this?” I asked sitting up and she gasped

“Y/N, what happened?” she asked “did Chris do this” I didn’t say anything “How long?” she asked

“Not even a few weeks after we started dating”

“Why, the fuck didn’t you leave him?” She asked

“He threatened to make sure that…”

“Hey, Y/N I know you’re not feeling well but do you know where my…” Tom walked in and when he made eye contact with me I saw pure rage enter his face “What happened?” he asked “Did that bastard hurt you?” I again said nothing “That, fucker.” Tom stormed out of the room and I quickly followed

“Tom… please don’t do something stupid”

“I’m firing that bastard ASAP”

“Tom, you can’t he told me if I told you he would make sure that he gave fake statistics to the board so they would pull their funds from the movie”

“Is that why you stayed with him?” he asked, I didn’t say anything I just started crying and slid down the wall I was leaning against

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” I said, Tom got on his knees in front of me and pulled me gently into his arms

“This is not your fault, he is a bastard and he is going to pay for this”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tom’s P.O.V

Pure rage is running through my veins, but at the current moment the only thing I feel is stupidity. I knew there was something wrong with her, the light in her eyes had faded but Y/N made me believe she was happy… and that’s all I wanted for her. I kissed the top of her head a couple of times. I looked up at Katie who has tears in her eyes

“Will you take her upstairs and see if she can get some sleep?” Katie nodded

“C’mon honey” Katie said helping her up

“Tom please be careful” she mumbled, before letting Katie walk her upstairs.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It didn’t take long to get to the production company, I stormed in walking past security and straight into the CEO’s office. Not caring if he was in a meeting or not. He is on the phone and he looks up at me shocked

“Mr. Cruise?” he asked confused

“We need to talk now!” I said

“Of course, come in” he walked over and closed the door “What seems to be the…”

“You need to fire Chris Hall right now” I said, and he chuckled

“He’s one of our best employees I can’t fire him without cause” I pulled my phone and out and showed him the pictures I had Katie send me of Y/N

“He is a women beater”

“You’re sure he did this?” he asked

“He has been dating my assistant for the last 5 months… I have known Y/N for a very, very long time. I knew that something had changed, but I didn’t know what, and this morning I see this… he has been beating her and the reason she said nothing was because he threatened to show you and the board fake statistics so you would pull funds from my movie” He looked horrified

“Holly, call Mr. Hall into my office right now” he said on the speaker “Tom, I have to apologize I had no idea…”

“I’m not blaming you… and please don’t blame me for what happens when that bastard walks into this office”

“I want you to know we see so much potential in this film even without his statistics… we would have never pulled funds” I sighed if only Y/N had known that

“Hey, you wanted to see me?” Chris said when he walked in, I turned around and gave him a fake smile

“Actually it’s me who wanted to see you” I said walking over to him

“What can I do for you…” he asked

“I just wanted to give you something”

“What?” he asked confused

“Nothing much just this” I said before punching square in the face

“WHAT THE FUCK?” he asked

“How do you like it, you fucker. I should do so much worse… you are a sick bastard and I hope you rot in hell for what you did to Y/N”

“I didn’t…”

“Save it! I showed him the proof already and I told him everything…”

“That fucking bitch” he said, and I lost my cool again, and punched him square in the nose “You bastard I’m going sue you for everything you own”

“I’d like to see you try” I said

“I have a witness, and camara’s int his office show you attacking me”

“Mr. Hall, I know 3 things in this moment” The CEO said “One I have 3 daughters and the thought of anybody doing this to them is sickening… so you could say I saw nothing. Two wouldn’t you know it… it’s a shame the camara’s aren’t in service right now… and three You’re fired”

“You’re going to regret this Cruise” he said before walking out

“Thank you” I said to the CEO before I also walked out

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When I walked inside I saw Y/N sitting on the couch watching TV, I walked over and sat next to her and let her snuggle into me

“I’m sorry” she mumbled

“You have nothing to apologize for”

“I should have told you… I just know how important this project is”

“Y/N, look at me. If you had told me, I would have dealt with it… and if they had pulled their funds I would use every dollar of my own money to keep the movie afloat… you should know I would rather go broke then let anything ever happen to you” she smiled, but still had tears in her eyes

“So you got him fired?” she asked

“After I punched him in the eye and broke his nose” she giggled “I also made sure he will never get another job again” she snuggled back into me

“Thank you for protecting me” she mumbled

“Always, I’ll always be here to protect you” it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, I picked her up and took her upstairs to her room, gently put her under the covers and kissed her head. “I love you, always have and always will” I said before walking out wishing I could say that to her when she is awake… but that will never happen.

#tom cruise x reader #tom cruise #tom cruise movies #tom cruise running #top gun 1986 #mission impossible

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bonkywobble · 2 years

Text

Kinktober ‘22 - Day 4

Day 4 - Uniform Fetish with Billy Russo

Pairing: Billy Russo x fem!reader

Word count: 714

Warnings: Language, fluff, sexual content (18+ only): oral (m receiving).

Disclaimer: Please heed the warnings - if this makes you uncomfortable then click away. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. I do not give anyone permission to take, repost, copy or translate my stories, regardless of whether or not they are credited. This blog and all works associated with it are 18+ only. Minors please do not interact or follow.

A/N: Day 4. Sorry this one’s a bit late. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Tagging @becauseicantthinkwritings and @cryptidcasanova.

Kinktober ‘22 Masterlist

Your thoughts are lace with annoyance, but you can’t help it. It’s supposed to be practical, you determine.

There’s absolutely nothing sexy about the clothing. The vest has so many pockets that it’s a wonder Billy Russo doesn’t lose track of all his ammo every time he goes out in it; the pants couldn’t be any baggier; and who decided on that godawful combination of black and camouflage? Not to mention, the balaclava hides the best part of that man.

It’s supposed to be practical, except that Billy has never looked bad a day in his goddamn life. Right now you’re supposed to be practically fuming at him, upset that he left you high and dry nearly five hours ago to ‘take care of some business.' Instead, your libido is reaching rooftop levels because of his stupid uniform.

Still, you step forward until your bare toes touch black leather and your eyes can now pick up the speckled collection of wet crimson on his kevlar.

You consider yourself about as smart as the average individual - Billy, ever the charmer, would protest this - but holy shit if this man doesn’t make you feel a little dumb sometimes, the sudden appearance of this tactical gear making you want to drop to your knees and suck the soul outta him.

(Unfair, you’d call this.

After all the times you’ve flaunted your body in front of me? He’d retort, This is me getting even.)

A dirtied hand reaches up instinctively to pull his mask off and you once again move without thinking, catching his red-stained fingertips only mere inches from the edge. His pupils dilate, the air thick with curiosity and leftover adrenaline as dark eyes intensely search your face, looking for something that he hopes isn't there.

Fear.

Billy sounds tired when he finally speaks, an undercurrent of smug satisfaction lurking in the low timber of his voice. “It’s done. Those pieces of shit aren’t gonna bother you or your business anymore. Okay, sweetheart?”

You smile gently between unshed tears, frustration fleeing from you completely. Though you know your work would normally seem mundane to someone of his standing, your boyfriend understands just how much time, attention and heart go into growing something of your own - a company that’s worth taking pride in.

Tough guys like to fuck around and then hate to find out, he thinks. Whether or not you’re scared of him now, your safety is and always will be worth it.

Pressing your forehead to his you hear him chuckle softly, relief filling his once live wired frame.

“Let me thank you properly then,” you smoothly offer.

Billy smiles. Home for less than a minute before you assault him with your desires and impish wiles. Guess there’s no rest for the wicked.

His now even breathing hitches as you slowly sink to the floor, and though you can’t see it, you swear you can feel his smirk following you all the way down. Your fingers work swiftly to undo his cargo pants and set him free, his thick cock hardening in your hand as you pull it out. Delighted, you begin stroking him, hands pumping in a steady rhythm while you lick your lips in preparation and contemplation. Billy Russo is a handful, that’s for goddamn sure.

There’s a soft bang! when you finally take his length into your mouth and looking up you witness his head leaning back against the front door, eyes fluttering as he stares half-heartedly at the ceiling, seemingly stuck in a lust-fueled haze. Maybe your sweet Lieutenant had come back to finish his original mission, after all.

Your tongue traces the vein on the underside as you leisurely bob up and down, and when your nails dig into the skin on his waist there’s a cursed groan of “Fuck me” as his gaze drifts back to you. Humming in appreciation you push yourself to go faster and deeper, enjoying the taste and heaviness of him on your tongue. Hissing his approval between clenched teeth you sense before you feel his palm settle on the back of your neck to steady you.

The only crime in a war is to lose, and Billy Russo sure as shit ain’t gonna lose you. Not over his dead body.

#billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo smut #billy russo fanfiction #kinktober 22 #kinktober 2022 #bonkywobble writes

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thepenultimateword · 2 years

Note

I absolutely adore your ‘sweet dreams’ snippets! You would not believe the grin I had when I saw that you wrote a part 3 and was wondering if you might make a part 4, please? Thank you for all your lovely stories, they are always a joy and delight to read!

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

CW: Blood, mention of sibling's death, mentions of pet's death

Henchman pressed both chocolate milk bottles to their cheeks as they scanned the pastries behind the bakery's glass display case.

They really needed to cool down. It had already been over half an hour since they wriggled out of Villain's grasp, showered, and walked the six blocks to this shop to buy breakfast, and their cheeks were still aflame.

They know," Henchman thought.

No doubt about it.

Villain had practically wrenched their heart out still beating, turned it over, studied it, then put it back in its place like a half-interesting knickknack. That almost felt worse than the lip-curling disgust they had imagined. At least that sort of reaction would have been clear. Henchman hardly knew what to do with that casually amused look in Villain's eyes, the knowing that they knew but felt no need to mention it. As if Henchman's feelings were barely worth acknowledging.

Maybe they weren't. Maybe Villain went through this sort of thing all the time and had grown used to it. Henchman blushed harder and pressed the milk with enough force to push out their lips. How were they ever supposed to face their boss again?

"Have you made a decision?" asked the girl behind the counter, wrenching Henchman out of their worry and back to the glittering rows of sugar.

"Oh...uh..." Henchman yanked the milk bottles off their face with a whole new wash of color. They tried not to stutter as they worked out their order. "Two fruit tarts, one cheese danish, one of those donuts with the grapefruit curd, a pumpkin scone, and...two slices of that cinnamon bread. And these."

They set the milks on the counter and tried not to feel strange for being a single person ordering so many sweets. They tried to tell themself that the cashier didn't know or care what they did with their buyings, but pushing out that anxiety only replaced it with a worse one: would Villain like them?

Of course, they will, they answered themselves promptly. They would never pass up anything sugar-filled. What you're really wondering is if they'll be grateful. If they'll notice you're effort. If they'll even care.

Ok. Time to turn their brain off.

They snatched the paper bag a little too hastily out of the counter girl's hands and whirled back in the direction of the door, smacking full force into another customer’s brawny chest. It was like hitting a steel beam head-on.

Henchman doubled over, a sharp hiss escaping through clenched teeth. Both hands flew to the bridge of their nose and pressed at the nerve-numbing ache splitting their face. Nothing felt broken but curses that hurt.

"Oh my-- Are you alright?"

A heavy hand plopped onto Henchman's shoulder, prompting them to squint through the tears gathered in their eyes and into the bright blue gaze of Hero.

Henchman reeled back on instinct, back thumping the display glass with an embarrassingly loud thunk.

Hero quickly held his hands up. "Sorry, sorry, didn't mean to startle you. I only meant to-- Oh, you're bleeding."

Henchman pulled one hand away and stared at their sticky scarlet fingers.

"I-it's just a nosebleed," Henchman said, ducking their head. Of all the bakeries in the city and at all the hours they were open, why did Hero have to come here, now? Did he know? Had he trailed Henchman here? Was he waiting for them to lead them straight to Villain?

No. They were nobody to the heroes. The team was looking for Villain. They shouldn't have any idea what Villain's henchmen looked like, or that the overlord had brought one with them.

"Let me get you some napkins." Hero's large body leaned over them to reach the napkin box on the counter; they loomed a couple heads taller, and all Henchman could think about was how easily those muscles could crush them.

"I-I'm fine."

"You sure?" Hero said, pressing the napkins into their blood-stained hand, still held out dumbly in front of them.

Henchman flicked their gaze up and suppressed a flinch. The hero's steely eyes held them hostage, not too unlike the icy prick of a knife point pressed into the soft skin of one's throat. They threatened to pierce right through Henchman's nervous expression and into their soul. Henchman sincerely hoped that that was not one of his abilities. If that wasn't frightening enough, the irises were also...kind of...glowing.

Henchman must have shrank involuntarily.

"Oh, no, no," Hero said in the same tone someone might talk to a spooked animal. Fingers crawled over their face like spider legs, settling heavily along their jaw, middle fingers pressing into their temples. "It's alright. I'm a hero."

Henchman's whole body trembled. Those large hands could crush their skull and smash their brain into wet pudding in seconds.

"T-thank you," they forced out. "But I just want to go home."

Hero frowned, obviously unused to not being fawned over after revealing himself, but his hands dropped easily. "Are you certain you're alright? I do feel I should take some responsibility—”

"I'm fine." Henchman brought the handful of napkins up to their nose and dragged out what they hoped was a sheepish smile instead of a fearful one. "Thank you for being so kind, b-but it's not your fault, and I'll feel better at home."

"Alright then." Despite the prickling anxiety shooting up Henchman's nerves, Hero didn't stop them from scurrying around him. He waved a heroic sort of flick-wrist of a wave and bellowed, "You be careful out there, now."

As they moved to the door, the counter girl and the few customers in line behind Hero began to applaud, as if Hero's attention to a poor, muddled civilian was something very chivalrous and honorable that deserved attention. Hero nodded to each with a beaming smile, those glowing eyes leaving trails of light hanging briefly in the air every time he moved his head. Henchman's face burned, and they ducked it into their napkin wad as best they could until they had pushed outside onto the sidewalk.

They remained tense until they'd speed-walked a couple blocks. As soon as they were certain the bakery and Hero's piercing gaze were long out of sight, they slumped. The shame hit them fast and hard. What was that? Was the anticipation getting to them like Villain said? Henchman had been trained to fight heroes. They'd even beat a few of the smaller ones. So why had that confrontation terrified them so much?

Because it was Hero.

Right, it was the same thing that made Villain so dangerous. There were some beings so powerful that they were hardly human. What was someone as small as them supposed to do against such a threat? It was such an obvious problem, but they'd never really thought about it until the danger was looming right over their head. Maybe they'd thought if they ever got in a fight that Villain would take the big ones and they would take the small ones. But what if they were all big ones?

No. Remember your training. There's no powered being that can't be taken down with a well-executed plan.

Henchman decided to ignore the fact that they had no idea what such a plan would entail. They needed to get back to Villain and report.

***

At the creak of the door, Villain leaned the top half of their body out of the bathroom, still in their sleeping clothes but their hair wet and slicked behind their ears mid hairdo.

"Welcome back, my dream--" They stopped. "What happened to you?"

Henchman tossed the bloodied napkins into the trashcan with a shaky hand and pretended not to feel the crust of blood left on their upper lip.

"I ran into Hero."

Villain's eyes widened a fraction and their fingers tightened on the doorframe. "Did you fight?"

"No, I literally ran into Hero." Henchman illustrated this by pounding their knuckles lightly against their palm. "In the bakery. He was behind me. Oh, I got breakfast."

They held up the paper bag dazedly.

Villain retreated back into the bathroom and strode out a few seconds later with one of the rough, yellow hand towels. They sat down on the bed and patted the space in front of them. "Come here."

Henchman moved numbly and obediently, settling crisscross across from the criminal and setting the bag of pastries between them. Nimble fingertips traced and pressed the throbbing bridge of their nose and ended on the still-tingling tip.

"Not broken," they confirmed. "Only bruised."

"That's what I thou—"

Henchman cut off as Villain brought the damp hand towel up to their nostrils, carefully dabbing at the dried blood.

It hurt. Henchman wanted to squirm away and hide their face in the pillows, maybe try cleaning it themselves when it wasn't so tender, but somehow they managed to keep still.

Villain's hands were a little bit gruffer than Hero's but their pressure didn't invoke the same sense of dread. Villain was probably stronger than Hero, but at least Henchman could rely on them to be dangerous all the time. They didn't wear that mask, that gooey goodness that vanished in an instant when you were deemed no longer worthy of it.

"Were you followed?" Villain said, rubbing a raw spot into their lip now.

"I don't think Hero even knows who I am," Henchman said, "but no. I checked my surroundings a few times on the way, just in case."

Villain nodded, leaning back a little and looking over their work intensely. "And this happened from bumping into him?"

"He has a really hard chest." Henchman's lip stung furiously now, but in some ways, they wished Villain wouldn't be finished cleaning them up. The touch calmed some of the turmoil flipping their stomach. They ducked their chin into their collarbone and studied the scruffy knit of the bedcovers. "What should we do? They're so close."

"Same as before, but even stricter. We stay here."

The paper bag rustled, and Henchman snuck a peek as Villain shook out and opened the little folding box inside. Those predatory eyes sparked as they seized on one pastry in particular, and in a moment the cheese danish was plucked out from the rest.

"I also got these," Henchman said, rustling out the milk bottles and handing one off to them.

"Looks like you made your little morning flight quite productive."

Warmth singed the tips of Henchman's ears, and they hunched closer to the bed. "Sorry."

Villain cocked their head. "Why?"

Henchman shrugged. They weren't exactly sure, it just slipped out. Maybe they were sorry for feeling like they did.

Silence fell in a thin blanket across the room, and Henchman quickly selected their own baked good, the pumpkin scone, from the box, and began nibbling at the corner.

"Have you ever been tested for powers?" Villain broke in suddenly.

Henchman jolted at the abruptness but shook their head. "Why would I? I don't have powers. I already know that."

"You'd be surprised how many people believe so falsely."

"Yeah, but that's different." Those people were in denial. They noticed the strange things around them but didn't want to know where they came from. "I've never had a reason to be tested. Nothing happens to me. Everything around me is normal."

Why was Villain even asking this question?

"Have you heard of the power-ability tier system?”

"Yes," Henchman ventured slowly. "Primary, Secondary, and Tertiary. Tertiary is sort of like an underlying talent, right? Like they might find money in the street all the time and not even realize they have a good luck ability. Then Secondary is obviously a power, but simple, like flight or minor elemental abilities, things like that. And Primary powers are...well...like yours."

Villain nodded, finishing off the danish and licking the glaze from the tips of their fingers. "Very good. If you know all that, maybe this won't come as too much of a shock: I believe you have a Tertiary power."

Henchman blinked. "What?"

"We can get you a test just be sure, but I'm fairly certain."

Blink.

"What are you even—" No, softer, this was still their employer and a master criminal they were speaking to. "What makes you think I have a power?"

Villain's response was immediate. "You soothe."

Henchman scrunched their face in confusion.

"I've suffered from dreams for a long time," Vilain said, surprisingly bare with their personal information. "Nothing has ever helped. Pills, meditations, ...companions. But you. You soothe at an instant. At a touch. And not only once, but twice. I don't believe in impossible things happening twice."

"B-but, I would have noticed!" Henchman cried, then falteringly, "Wouldn't I?"

Villain tapped the back of Henchman's hand, still clutching to their barely nibbled scone. As Henchman hastily brought it back to their mouth, they continued. "Like you said, Teriatry powers are hard to detect. People go lifetimes without recognizing them."

Henchman wasn't sure what to say to that, and Villain took advantage of there silence to press a little further.

"Is there anything you can think back on where you might have used a soothing power before?"

"No. No, I never..."

Maybe that wasn't completely true.

"My dog," they said slowly. "When I was a kid, my dog was hit by a car on the highway. I was alone, and there was so much blood and pain..." Henchman swallowed. "I touched his head and...well the whimpering stopped. After that, he passed quickly."

Another memory quickly tailed the first.

"It was the same with my sister when the heroes mistook her..."

This one was even harder to get through. Skip ahead.

"I touched her...and the pain seemed to melt. I didn't think much of it at the time, I thought it was because she was dying, but now...maybe... She also passed very quickly and quietly. It's not the same as curing nightmares, but could it be something like that?"

"Sounds like soothing to me," Villain said. Those dark eyes studied them, picking and peering like a particularly difficult and interesting knot until they found the thread where their being began. Then they pulled, unraveling them to their very atoms.

Henchman had to look away. They cleared their throat. “How would I go about knowing for sure? How…how were you tested?”

“By force in a underground holding cell. For you, a trip to the pharmacy should do the trick. But not until those heroes clear out.”

Henchman nodded numbly. Villain spoke so bluntly sometimes, it was hard to believe that anything actually bothered them.

“While we’re on this subject though,” Villain continued, “I want to make you a proposition.”

The criminal carefully selected another sweet, turning it around in their hand a couple times before taking wolfish bite.

“A proposition…?” Henchman repeated.

Villain finished chewing and leaned back on one hand as they popped the other half of the pastry into their mouth. “You seem to be the solution to a very big problem of mine. I’d like to make last night’s accommodations a little more regular.”

Henchman’s breath caught and their heart squeezed uncomfortably in their chest. “You want to keep…sharing?”

They couldn’t bring themself to be anymore specific than that.

“Not every night of course,” Villain said, “but before important events or other times when I might especially need you, yes.”

Henchman couldn’t find words. They weren’t sure what they were feeling right now, but it was something between suffocating and sinking. It was almost disorienting, and they clenched their half-eaten scone so hard, that it crumbled into pieces across the bedcovers.

“Of course, I don’t except you to do it for nothing. I’ll be adding a bonus to your usual stipend, and when we return to headquarters, anything you may need to stay over will be provided for you—food, clothes, hygiene products. Luckily, you’re feelings being what they are, it shouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience—”

Henchman smacked them hard across the face.

Part Five

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @last-ditch-entry @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble

#villain x villain #villain x henchman #hero x villain community #hero x villain #writing snippet #heroes and villains #creative writing #villain #heroes and villains community #fiction #hero #villain x hero #superheroes and villains #writblr #writing community #one bed trope

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 11 months

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Hi Makenzie

I'm sorry for bothering you, but as I followed your blog for over a decade now and this is the first time I need to deal with questions around sexuality, it seemed to me like the best way to get good and trustworthy input was to ask you.

There's a lot of context to this, but the TL;DR is that I (a trans masc) used to staunchly believe I'm aroace (which I'm still not sure of that I'm not) until last month this person swaggered into my life and basically upended my understanding of myself by somehow making it so we're in a relationship together. That means that for the first time in 23 years I have to think about the downstairs equipment and, worse, use it.

Now, my partner is absolutely lovely, don't get me wrong, but I am very much not into sex at all. Or like, it's fun, but it's also a chore and while I like the intimacy of it all, I just... don't like sex. It's extremely painful and since my partner has been circumcised it takes so long to get them off (over 4 hours!), even on their own- the closest we've come to me being involved at all when they do is my letting them come in my mouth by some last-minute manouvering- and even so, after two times I physically cannot bring myself to do it again, which puts them off too.

I know one of your mottos is that orgasms aren't the end-all-be-all of sex, but it seems to be the only thing to make the whole ordeal worth it at all. It's like we're stuck in a feedback loop where I only put up with sex because I want them to enjoy themself, and they need to see me enjoy myself to enjoy themselves, but with them having a really hard time getting of and me being physically unable to (even on my own: I never feel anything, even if the muscle-spasms indicate something happened).

I'm very worried about the strain this will put on the relationship, since they told me on the very first day that they do need to get their rocks off, and while I'm fine with them watching porn to get off and the occasional comment that they would prefer me have the body of one of those actresses, I'm not secure enough in this whole relationship yet to just set them free sexually. Not in the least because a part of me doesn't want to lose the way our sexuality works atm. It's dysfunctional and painful, and there is practically no benefit to it at all, but it's fun having them so close. If only the rest of the deal didn't exist.

It's basically a lose-lose situation where I was wondering if you could tell me if I should be worried about the sheer amount of pain I experience with penetration (also with tampons: the two times I tried putting one in, I ended up crying on the bathroom floor because of the pain) and if you maybe have any advice regarding the rest of the whole shitshow.

Thanks in advance and have a nice day!

hi anon,

oh my god there's a lot to unpack here

before we get into the important stuff I just want to open by saying your partner's four hour plateau period is maybe not an outright medical marvel but is definitely unusual, and both scientific and anecdotal evidence indicate there's no particular reason why that should be linked to circumcision. I have no idea what would actually be causing that, but it's probably not a lack of foreskin! just wanted to point that out, because it's interesting.

anyway, and much more importantly: you two should not be having sex with each other and maybe need to just break up entirely.

literally every single thing about how you are talking about sex indicates to me that you don't want to be having it, you don't like it, it's painful, you don't see the point, you can't bring yourself to do it... literally stop doing it. stop that right now. there's literally nothing but trauma that's going to come from repeatedly forcing yourself into something that sucks this bad for you.

okay, so, where does this leave your partner? well, in grand sex witch style I am humbling suggesting that they either put up or shut up. sex is important to them and that's fine, wahoo yay sex, but they've chosen a partner who Does Not Want To Do Sex At All and that has consequences, namely that they do not get to have sex with that partner.

if you're uninterested in opening the relationship up (which is fine!) that means they either need to cope or y'all need to break up, which frankly sounds like it might be awesome for both of you based on everything you're saying here. no one is necessarily at fault here, but this is a major lack of compatibility that seems like it's only going to keep eating at both of you. there are lots of different ways to be intimate in a relationship, and you both deserve to find someone operating on a more similar frequency.

also, hey, this?

I'm fine with them watching porn to get off and the occasional comment that they would prefer me have the body of one of those actresses

you shouldn't be fine with that. talking about anyone's body like that is shitty, let alone an intimate partner. I would hit somebody with a car for that, personally.

also hey PS if tampons suck that much there's a chance you have vaginismus, a condition that causes the vaginal muscles to reflexively and often painfully tighten to prevent penetration. it's a fairly common condition that's often caused by anxiety or trauma, and in many cases the easiest solution is to Stop Putting Things In Your Vagina.

#sex edventures 2023

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gtunesmiff · 7 months

Text

4 Common Problems with the Creativity Process in Songwriting

(Edited from an e-mail...)

Impostor Syndrome

The problem: Living in constant fear of being found out, for someone to point at you and say "this person is an impostor! I bet he doesn't even know what notes an Ebmin∆7(#9#11) is made up of!"

The underlying mindset: Thinking that making songs is a skill that you either have or don't have, and that there will be a clear point in your life where you'll suddenly be able to do it.

What you need to realize: This moment where you suddenly feel confident in your work doesn't exist. Learning a creative skill is a continuous journey.

What to do: At any given point, do the best you can, and learn as much as you can. That's all you can do.

Writer's Block

The problem: You have stopped writing regularly, out of fear that nothing good will come out.

The underlying mindset: Thinking that creativity is "god-given", an external source that you have no control over. And when it doesn't come, all you can do is wait.

What you need to realize: Creativity is driven by you. See it like a working relationship you have with your muse: the more work you do, the more your muse will feel obliged to chip in. But your muse is lazy: If you work for a few hours in a row, she'll ignore that. Do it every day, and she won't be able to ignore you.

What to do: Write with the sole purpose of activating your muse. The goal is not to write something good, it's to communicate to your brain that you are in creative mode.

Stuckemia

The problem: You're writing a song, and you're not making progress.

The Underlying mindset: If I get stuck, I must not have the talent, or I'm doing something wrong.

What you need to realize: You are stuck for a very simple reason: You have encountered a specific problem you’ve never dealt with before, and you don’t know how to solve it.

What to do: Figure out exactly what the problem is and brainstorm solutions. It’s ok to go for the obvious solution if you can only think of one (“but that would be such a cliche!”), it's more important to get unstuck than to be brilliant. You can always rewrite later.

Perfectionitis

The problem: Not finishing your songs because you're "fixing" and rewriting your music over and over again.

The underlying mindset: I can't release anything less than perfect or people might think I'm lazy or dumb. But what I liked last week seems obvious or uninspired now.

What you need to realize: As long as you keep pushing yourself, you will always be better tomorrow. But that doesn't mean yesterday's songs aren't worth releasing! Songs are time stamps. See them as diary entries: This is what you believed or thought when you wrote that song. It's not your job to rewrite every song until you love it, it's your job to write the best song!

What to do: Jump into the mind of your past self. Figure out what you actually wanted to say or do with your song when you wrote it, and then make that as clear as possible.

An Observation

Something interesting happened after my last mail. I asked you where you struggle the most with your process, but most of the emails I got concerned skills: how do I write melodies to lyrics, how do I write better melodies or chords, etc.

None of these are about process.

That's not to say that you didn't listen, rather it seemed to me as though most of you don't even know what process means and why it's so important.

In other words, the problem is you don't even know why you struggle.

You think you need to learn how to write chords or better melodies, or produce better.

But the truth is that if you don't have a process, none of these will get you anywhere, except stranded in a pile of unfinished songs.

All creative work consists of two big parts:

Skill: how good you are at writing melodies, producing music, ear training, coming up with engaging lyrics, etc. This is the stuff we mostly teach at Holistic Songwriting Academy, and it involves both study and practice. Very important, but useless without:

Process: how you actually write songs. Which instrument do you start with? How do you make sure you don't get stuck and what do you do if you do get stuck? How do you make sure your songs get finished, and that they're as best as they can be? How can you enjoy the creative process, and write more songs quicker? How do you make sure you don't drive yourself crazy? How do you deal with your ego, your perfectionism? How do you deal with tight deadlines?

~ Friedemann Findeisen || Holistic Songwriting

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igotanidea · 2 years

Text

The Raven's daughter: Morpheus x Matthew's daughter part 6

previously: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

Part 6

This is one of those days.

The day when y/n feels overwhelmed with simplest task, getting out of bed seems like a challenge and going to work require the same amount of energy and motivation as climbing the peak of the highest mountain. From the very morning it seemed like the Murphy law will be the sponsor of the upcoming 24 hours. Everything that could fall from y/n hands, fell and broke, she was tripping over her own feet, the bus was late and to make it all worse, when she was crossing the street to get to the campus some asshole run right through the puddle drenching her pants in water. y/n was exhausted but inside it all the rage was slowly finding its way towards the surface. It was only a matter of seconds before explosion.

-Damn it! – she yelled entering the faculty room. She didn’t sleep quite well that night. Obviously she could just ask the Lord of the Dreams to help her, but considering that he would probably brag about it for the rest of the existence she stopped herself. To make those sleepless hours worth something she tried to work on her novel but her brain refused to work. In desperation (and maybe in some masochist reflex) she found herself browsing the pages for writers. This only made her more frustrated. There were so many talented people out there. The ones that truly deserved some fame and recognition. Who was she to even try and compare herself with them? Maybe her time has already passed, she achieved nothing and she has no right to teach? Maybe this feeling of incompetence will stay with her forever in a form of lump in throat, guilt and hopelessness? Y/n groaned and shut her laptop. Maybe she could try and do some paperwork instead. She had a stack of essays on her desk, assigned to the student about a week ago. It was highest time to check them and write some feedback. She reached for the first one, but was not able to focus. y/n felt like banging her head against the wall. Nothing worked for her nerves. Yes, nerves, even if she didn’t want to admit it. Finally, she just laid in bed, eyes closed, waiting for the morning too come. Unfortunately, so far it was no better.

- Hey, y/n! – a fellow teacher greets her cheerfully but immediately backed up seeing her mood – Woah, what’s with the attitude?

- Oh, don’t even get me started! – she pointed at her wet pants – Can I just go home and fall sick? I don’t think I am myself today.

- Cheer up, I got spare pair in my cabinet. Seems like you need them more than I do now.

- You want me to wear your pants? Not that I’m complaining, but….

- No buts! You don’t really have much time till your class so get yourself together and take what I give you. Or rather what I’m going to give you. – with that words the friend takes from the room in order to gather the clothing.

The point was, that Kat, the chemistry teacher, was nothing like a stereotypical scientist in trench coat. To give her justice, she was the most colorful person at the university, both faculty and students considered. She loved wearing pink, red, yellow and neons, that made her distinctive. One thing for sure, no car would ever hit or wet her since she was practically a street light, visible from a distance. Kat was also a great fan of embellishments of all kind – sequins, nail heads, you name it. Having that in mind, even if she chemist was the closest thing y/n had to a friend, she was quite scared of what may be handed to her as a emergency pants. In her imagination she already saw some sort of circus knickerbockers or something equally crazy.

-Here! – Kat was back surprisingly quickly – this is the best I could find on such short notice.

-This is… - y/n hesitantly looked at what was handed to her - … not so bad, actually. – the simple pair of slightly wiped black jeans, quite adequate for a teacher. – That’s new. I never knew you could own something so simple, Kat.

-Please. I have bad days too, I’m only human. Now, be quick and meet me at lunch, I got a proposition for you. The one that you simply cannot refuse – Kat blows a kiss towards y/n and run for her own lecture.

-Why does everyone insist on speaking riddles to me! – y/n annoyance came back and she was forced to take a few deep breaths to calm herself down. – Head in the game, girl, head in the game – she spoke to herself heading towards the classroom hoping for full auditorium.

However, it seemed like someone up or down really made it his purpose to make this day a disaster. y/n heart dropped when she spotted only a few yawning students, as sleepy as she was. Feeling her spirit barely float above the ground she addressed the present.

-What happened? Where is everyone?

-Absent, professor.

-Well, I can see that – y/n spats – sorry, I suppose I’m not the only one who’s already struggling through the day. – she shook her head – you know what, there’s no point in having this lecture when there are only so little of you. You can go home or … do whatever else.

-But won’t you get in trouble professor? – one of the girls asked

-Why would I? No one showed in the classroom and everyone’s an adult. This class is not obligatory after all. No one will be chasing you or me. – with such assurance the students had no further inhibitions to skip the lecture, leaving y/n alone with her thoughts.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to call the class off – y/n thought to herself feeling the overwhelm coming again. She still has an hour till lunch break when she was supposed to meet with Kat and had absolutely no idea what to do with that time. Knowing well enough her brain was functioning on some other frequency, the only way to deal with it was to get involved into something stupid just to kill the time. y/n was never the person to get addicted to her phone or any other electronic device, more of a book lover, but desperate times call for desperate measures. She reached for her smartphone and headphones to escape reality, but apparently someone else needed her more.

-Professor y/l/n, do you have a minute?

-Sure – y/n sighed – what is it?

-I heard you called off the classes, so I thought maybe I could use that extra time for some consultation?

-About what? A book? A novel?

-Some history stuff, actually.

-History? – y/n looked at the student with confusion – And I’m the one you decided to ask for help. No offense, but we have other teachers competent in that area.

-Well…. To be honest, I asked professor Gadling first, but he bustled me off to you.

-Really? That’s quite unusual. Is the subject so specific he had nothing to say about it? He seems like a hotshot to me.

-He is, but apparently had too much to do – the students look down – so, will you help me professor – using the most obvious trick with big, glistening eyes he added – you’re the only hope left for me.

-There’s no need to be melodramatic, is there? – y/n motioned him to a chair – what’s troubling you?

-You, professor. – the students smiles mischievously

-I’m sorry? – y/n raises her eyebrows in confusion – you should not speak to me like that. I’m your teacher after all. A little respect would be nice.

-You are not my teacher. However, I can most definitely teach you something about your future which is now connected with my brother’s.

-What? I don’t understand a thing of what you’re saying. Wait – a wave of realization hit her – you brother? Do you mean…. Dream?

-I do.

-Who are you exactly – y/n move in front of her desk crossing her arms in anticipation.

-I have many names, but you may know me as Destiny.

Destiny. – the girl repeated in flat voice. – Awesome. Are you here as some sort of messenger?

Destiny’s face expression did not falter in the slightest. God, he’s so serious. Almost like his younger sibling.

-You should not mess with an Endless calling me that. I am no messenger, human.

-I’m sorry – y/n sighed again – I did not mean to offend you in any way. I just… My life has been kind of crazy lately.

-I know. I know everything. And I’m here to give you a warning that it will be crazier. You should brace yourself. There’s a journey ahead of you.

-A journey? What kind of journey?

-I can only tell you as much as I told my brother.

-Wait… he knew?

-Yes.

-I knew he was holding something back from me. What kind of journey are we talking about?

-The one that will fill some blank space from your past. Questions will be answered and you will be different than now.

-Is there any point in asking you any more questions?

-No.

-Well then, thank you for the heads up Destiny – she rolled her eyes but became sad the next second – I don’t know if I’m strong enough to meddle with my past.

-You are. You shall find soon enough how much power lies inside you.

-You just barely met me. How do you know that? – she looks up at her student.

-I know – he repeated and a shadow of smile lingered on his lips – you are much more than you think yourself to be. And for some reason, I believe in you, y/n y/l/n. I will watch over you to the very possible extend.

-Why? Why do you care about me?

-I have a feeling about you, y/n. We shall meet again – with those words he rise from his seat and moved towards the door – You are now under my protection.

-That really does make me feel special – y/n grinned – the Destiny’s protégée. It has a nice ring to it, can’t lie. Does it mean I have a connection with you as well as with Dream?

-Not the same kind, but yes, you can call it like that. You humans have a puzzling habit of defining things.

-Nah. That’s just something I do desperately trying to keep my life together.

-Goodbye, y/n. I’ll see you soon.

The girl just nods her head, serious expression on her face. She sensed that this is all she will get from Destiny so decided to just roll with what was coming her way. One problem at a time. Her visitor disappeared behind the door and when she looked after him the corridor was empty, as if nothing happened. y/n would probably think that she imagined it all if it wasn’t for a single sprig of myrtle laying on her desk. What is the meaning of this –she wondered taking the plant in her hand and examining in it carefully.

-Professor?

-Oh, god damn it, what now? – she spat and spun around annoyed.

-I’m sorry – the poor girl cringed.

-No, I’m sorry. That was way harsher than I intended. Can I help you with anything? -she strenously calmed herself down.

-Actually, I’m here to deliver a message. The dean wishes to see you, professor. He said it’s an urgent matter and he doesn’t wish to be kept waiting.

-Thank you, I shall see to him immediately.

***

-Professor y/l/n. All things considered, it is always a pleasure to see you. – dean Winchester motioned for y/n to sit down behind the great, oak desk and sat down on the opposite side.

-Thank you, dean. But… all things considered?

-I’m pretty sure you realize this is not a social call.

-I do, sir, but with all due respect – did something happen?

-y/n – dean slightly moved forward. Using my first name – y/n thought – that’s highly unusual – let’s be serious. You called your lecture off. Do you think that was within your power? You should have asked for a permission from me first

-I….. – the girl started, quite perplexed – who told you? – I’ve got a mole amongst the students – a single sentence crossed her mind

-Doesn’t matter. And let me finish. You’ve been acting strange for the last couple days. Is everything all right?

-That is not the word I would use, but I’m figuring things out.

-I;m really glad to hear it. Unfortunately, I can’t pretend that this didn’t happen. That was unprofessional and exceed of your prerogatives, professor. Hence I am forced to punish you, though I take no pleasure in that.

-Sir, if I may – she chimed in – barely a few students showed up on the lecture. My classes involve discussions and brainstorms therefore just a couple of participant is not sufficient for classes to be effective.

-I understand that. Given your perfect track record and highest ranks in evaluation I don’t intend to be harsh on you. You may treat it more like a warning, like a ….

Punishment for example? – she looked down intertwining her fingers to stop her hands from shaking.

The dean did not bother to answer that, just looking at his most prominent lecturer with mix of care and worry.

-y/n – he spoked softly causing the girl to look at him again – is there anything you wish to tell me?

Yes. Yes, of course. I;ve just recently found that my father is a Raven, I have some sort of connection with anthropomorphic personification of a Dream and I am under some sort of protection from analogic personification of Destiny, who happens to be his brother. Right, I want to tell you all about it. And then end up locked up in a psychiatric ward. I wonder if that’s something that was destined for me too.

-No. There is nothing of importance.

-I like you y/n/, but I cannot let my sympathy affect my objectivity. Professor Gadling will take your classes for the next three days. Consider this as forced leave of absence. Take care of your matters. I wish to see the same y/n/ I knew for the last two years back, do you understand?

-Yes sir.

-Good, now go. Have your lunch and think about what I told you.

y/n stood up and rushed out towards the faculty cafeteria where Kat was already waiting for her, pacing in anticipation.

@marvelsmylife

@wickedly-grim

@mind-of-a-girl

@thereeallink

@lisacarolined

@boofy1998

@endlessdreamqueen

@mikariell95

@shadowluna25

@sippysthoughts

@kaoriloveskeiff

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loveandthings11 · 9 months

Text

How Deep My Love Goes, Chapter 11

Read on AO3 Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10

Fic Summary: A Kenrava-focused fix-it alongside canon 💗

Nobody Stays Missing

Two minutes after Kendall has taken his first steps out the door and toward Logan to deliver the letter, Rava sits down and turns her attention to her case for as long as she can before everything blows up. She taps her pen against her laptop keyboard and glances back and forth from her scribbled notes to her typed ones, trying in vain to find the missing piece of her case- written evidence from the company of the years of stolen wages. She looks over her client Tony Trume’s latest distressed email, concerned about his coworker friend and wondering if he’s in danger himself.

She drops her face into her hands for a moment, wishing she knew an expert in international corporate law. She briefly thinks of Gerri and hesitates. The questions alone would sound like an accusation of having been on the wrong side of cases like this before, and Kendall is about to be at war with Waystar. Rava looks at her phone and thinks maybe she could just ask a quick hypothetical, one lawyer to another. Gerri doesn’t know what’s happening with Kendall yet, she’d still pick up the phone- for the next five minutes. She takes a breath and presses her name. Gerri answers on the first ring.

“Gerri Kellman.”

“Gerri, hi. It’s Rava.” She can practically hear Gerri’s eyebrows go up.

“Rava? Um, hi, how are you? Enjoying the festivities?”

“Oh, yeah. You know, the Roy joys.” She sounds forced and she knows it.

“Uh-huh.”

“Well,” Rava continues, “I actually have a hypothetical for you- having nothing to do with Waystar, just a case thing. Can I run something by you? I’m no expert in corporate law.”

“Oh. Sure, go ahead,” Gerri answers with slight confusion. Rava wonders how much time she has before Kendall gets to Logan’s room with the letter. While Rava details the situation, Gerri stays quiet.

“So, that’s it,” Rava finishes. “Stolen wages for years, a whistleblower who went missing, and a new whistleblower who is terrified that the same thing is going to happen to him. If a situation like that were to occur, what would be the best way to proceed, do you think? I’m, uh… a little lost, but you know this stuff.” Rava smiles into that last part, an effort to curry favor with a woman she knows gets too little credit. Gerri takes a moment.

“Honestly? If I were the attorney on this, well, I wouldn’t be. This kind of thing tends to be bad for everyone except the company you’re after. Look out for yourself here. Nobody will be kind to your reputation if you lose this, and I’m sorry to say it, but you will probably lose this.”

Rava feels a bit of the chill she’d feared. Gerri probably ate cases like this for lunch twenty years ago. She blinks and considers for a moment. She knows she probably only has seconds left before Gerri finds out what Kendall’s done. She can almost hear his footsteps.

“Are you saying that because you’re general counsel for an international company, or because you believe it?”

Gerri sighs and Rava hears a phone vibration on the other end.

“Both.” She pauses. “Fuck. Look, I’m sorry, I think you know what I have to go deal with-“

“Right, yeah. I appreciate you hearing me out.”

“Sure. Bye, Rava.”

The end of the call sounds final. They’re on opposite sides now. Regret starts to creep up as Rava wonders if hearing that was worth the risk of letting someone else in on her case. She looks at her phone and decides to calm down by taking a look at the photos of the wedding party from just an hour before. She’d asked the photographer to take a couple of shots on her phone of just her and Kendall. She’d run up just in the nick of time and slipped in next to him. He’d smiled and whispered, “Thank God, Shiv just asked if I was hallucinating you coming here.” The camera had caught him whispering in her ear and her laughing. She hopes this bear hug works so Logan can officially be out of the way and she can see Kendall’s smile all the time. It warms her chest even to think about how happy he’ll be when he’s finally in charge.

……………..

“That was really hard.” Kendall stares into the void as the image of Logan’s eyes floats in his head. Filled with anger, shock, disapproval… pride? That’s probably too hopeful. Stewy pats his knee.

“I know. You did it, man. Hey.” Kendall glances up at him. “You fuckin’ did it.” He nods. He can’t remember how to smile right now.

“I fucked my sister’s wedding.”

Stewy rolls his eyes but keeps his tone gentle.

“Well, I’m sure you won’t fuck the next one. Now you’ve learned who to trust. Me. Not Frank. Maybe not Ro-Ro, as much as it hurts.” Kendall looks down.

“You literally told me not to trust you,” he mutters. Stewy chooses not to hear that and Kendall continues. “But, yeah, it’s not our fault Roman didn’t answer the phone. I had to act or the whole thing would’ve fallen apart. I know he wasn’t expecting it to happen today, obviously- uh, well, none of us were.”

“Yeah, thanks for that, Ken, by the way.” Kendall ignores him.

“And we don’t even know if he ignored the call on purpose,” Kendall continues. “Maybe he did hear about the press leak and he thought he could change teams at the last minute. Just detach himself and run right back to Dad?” Kendall presses his lips together in stress and slumps forward while he worries.

“You didn’t ask your Dad if Roman had come to him?” Stewy inquires before realizing Kendall could probably barely make himself say the part he planned. “Okay- no, I get it, that was enough for you.” He switches to an easy vibe to keep them both calm. “Honestly, Roman was probably too busy getting fucked up to answer, he’s sick of this shit. Probably the most he’s worked in his entire life,” he laughs. Kendall feels queasy not knowing the answer and Stewy wants to pull them both out of the worrying. “But who cares? Time to celebrate. Drinks!” He gets up and pours himself a generous glass of scotch from the crystal bottle on the nearby mahogany table, opening his jacket and taking out a little plastic bag like they both always used to carry. Kendall visibly shrinks back and shakes his head.

“Come on, man, again?” Kendall tries, wondering how it’s possible that he still doesn’t get it. Stewy rolls his eyes.

“If you don’t want any, just turn that way.” He gestures toward the wall and pours a bit of coke onto the table. Kendall inhales sharply and gets up and walks toward the door.

“I can’t be in here if you’re gonna do that.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Stewy says as he cuts up a line and snorts it.

That’s it.

“It IS a fucking big deal,” Kendall spits out, prompting Stewy’s slow head turn toward him, standing right at the door facing away. He’s been putting up with this for years and now is not a relaxing moment. Now is the time when it’s hardest to say no and Stewy should have known that. He focuses on the carved wood on the door, counting the almost invisible marks in the grain.

“Dude. Relax, I’ll put it away,” Stewy says. Kendall closes his eyes and doesn’t want to turn around. He hates feeling like people think he’s a buzzkill, but he just can’t take it. Stewy looks over at him and puts the bag back in his jacket. “Ken. It’s fine, you can turn around.” He reluctantly does. “It’s all good, man. We’re doing this.” There’s a pause. “Hey. Like we always planned, yeah?” Kendall nods.

“Yeah.” He looks at the wall and the floor. “I gotta go, the fam’s waiting.” He reaches for the doorknob.

“Ken.” Stewy tilts his head and tries to look at him. Kendall wishes anyone he knew knew how to apologize.

“It’s fine. I’m good.”

Stewy looks at him, feeling discontented with a hint of regret.

“Really? Is this actually about this, or about the vote? Are we good?”

Kendall shrugs.

“Sure.” He opens the door and shuts it behind him. He turns and almost runs into Iverson on the gravelly path, trailed by Rava and Sophie a little ways back.

“Hey!” Rava calls as Iverson walks over to him first. “We were just looking for you.” Kendall leans down to give Iverson a hug.

“That picture you drew is the best thing I’ve ever seen,” he says seriously. “I mean that.” His son smiles and Kendall looks up at Rava and Sophie as they get closer.

“Hey,” he says. He knows he sounds spent and he feels like it. Rava’s eyes widen.

“You okay? How was talking to your dad?” She looks apprehensive but hopeful. Kendall sighs.

“I mean… it’s done, so, yeah.” He stands up and they all start walking back toward their room.

“And…?”

“I don’t know. That was just-“ he sighs again. Everything always has to pile on at once. His dad will never forgive him. He’s in a fight with Stewy. He can’t believe he’s going to have to face the entire family hating him at Shiv’s wedding, to face Roman thinking he cut him out on purpose and possibly turning against him. “Is it- can I just not talk about it right now?”

“Sure,” Rava says with concern as he gazes at the road in front of them. “It’s good we’re going back to the room before the festivities start.” The festivities. He can’t imagine wanting to go to a wedding reception later. He nods. The room sounds good. He hopes it’s quiet.

The kids want to continue their walk, so Bianca takes them out. Kendall and Rava enter back into their suite, all heavy wood and velvet upholstery in jewel tones of deep green and blue. Kendall pulls off his shoes as Rava steps down from her heels. He gazes at the grand canopy bed and wants to lie down more than anything. He fiddles with his jacket and Rava gives him a warm look.

“Are you worrying about wrinkling your suit?” He glances down with a small smile. She knows him so well. “Maybe if you just lie really still,” she suggests jokingly. He gives in and hangs up his jacket, walking back and lying down on his back staring up at the ceiling for a minute. She sits down next to him and looks over. She can’t take the suspense anymore. She has to know something. She starts with an easy question.

“So, um- did he yell? When you gave him the letter?”

Kendall exhales.

“Yeah.”

She puts her hand on his arm, a gentle reminder that she knows how hard that is for him. He turns his head away and tries to mentally float away from the memory.

“And… I mean, what did he say?”

“He wouldn’t even read it.” She winces a little. “I told him.” He closes his eyes and she smiles a bit sadly.

“Well… you did it.”

“Uh huh.” She rubs his arm.

“It’ll be okay,” she assures him. He keeps his eyes closed.

“Yeah? Do you have any proof?”

She chuckles a little.

“Only proof that it’s always ended up okay.” He opens his eyes slowly. She’s not wrong. She wonders if she should tell him about the talk she’d had with Gerri, but thinks now is not the time. It’s not the right day to mention anyone at Waystar. She decides on someone safer. “Hey, does Stewy want to join us and head over to cocktail hour later?” She figures he’s on the team now and his presence might be a positive distraction from the Logan mess. Kendall squirms a little at the thought of explaining and hopes he can just keep his distance from Stewy for the rest of the day.

“Uh, no. No, he’s- let’s just go with the kids.”

“Okay.” She looks at him expectantly. “Everything okay there? He’s still on board and everything?”

“Yeah. Yeah, he’s in.” He’s quiet for a second.

“Did something happen? What’s wrong?” She asks.

“Nothing, just-“ He briefly wishes he had the ability to hide small things like this from her and resigns himself to the fact that she’s too perceptive for that. Sometimes it’s a relief that she can read him like a book, but not at the moment. “He just- lives in the past sometimes. You know?” She gives him a confused look.

“No, what does that-“ She closes her eyes for a second as it hits her. “Jesus Christ. In the room with you? He’s doing drugs right in front of you?” She massages her temples. “I really might kill him, Ken.”

“No, it’s- you know, it’s fine. I mean, he stopped when I asked- when I told him to.”

She shakes her head and looks down at him.

“You shouldn’t have to tell him to,” she says. How anyone could want to make recovery harder for him than it already is is beyond her. Kendall looks at her and implores her with his eyes.

“Don’t say anything. Just- let it be. He’s not gonna change. I can’t have any more enemies right now.”

“Right. So it’s fine that for the next year you’re going to be having meetings at powder-covered conference tables? I don’t think so.” They hear the door open from the living room of the suite and Bianca’s keys jingle. “It’s not just about what you’re okay with,” she says, glancing in the direction of the door where the kids are. They share a meaningful look and he takes a deep breath.

“Yeah. I’ll deal with it.”

She nods, but she’s simmering beneath her placid surface. She considers the dynamic between Kendall and Stewy. Kendall gave Stewy another chance after he abstained from the vote. Stewy didn’t seem concerned that abstaining might end their friendship. He gave Kendall the money, but that just gave him more power over him. As far she Rava can tell, Stewy has the upper hand and Kendall isn’t going to say anything that could jeopardize their coalition. But this is just too important. There is no coalition if everyone in it is high out of their minds. She won’t lose him to a company or an overgrown fraternity.

“You know, I think I left my scarf at the ceremony, I’ll be right back.” She pats his shoulder and gets up, heading back down the path to the room she found him walking out of. She swings open the door and is suddenly alone with Stewy, who is disconcerted as he looks up from the slightly powdery table where his laptop is.

“What on earth were you thinking?” She hisses. Stewy drops his head back and sighs. “Remember Sophie and Iverson, his children? I would think as his supposed best friend you would care whether he can see them?”

“He tattled on me? Jesus… come on, you’re not taking the kids,” he says sarcastically. The cavalier attitude makes her want to scream. She closes her eyes in frustration and memories she hates start to come up. She doesn’t know how to get through to him except to bring him back.

“I- I mean, you were there. Covered his face from the photographers? Sat with me in the fucking ambulance? Promised me this would never happen again? ‘Never again.’ That’s what you said from the doorway of the hospital room you were too scared to come into. Remember any of that? Or have you obliterated all those brain cells?” She scoffs.

Stewy tries to keep his usual cool , but she can tell she’s getting to him. It had been the only time she’d ever heard him say ‘I’m sorry.’ He’s rarely at a loss for words and he doesn’t like being guilt-tripped. She doesn’t need to play dirty and he resents her acting like it’s his fault Kendall has a problem. The defensiveness combines with the coke and spills out for a moment.

“Stop, it is not a big deal.” Rava’s eyes widen and he hears himself and backtracks a little. “Yeah, I know. I remember.” He can’t bring himself to get deep right now and just wants her to go so he can get the evening started. “I’ve already gotten my scolding for the day. I got it. Okay? No more. I seriously did not think he’d care.” He starts walking out but can’t quite stop himself from turning back around to face her. “You know, it’s not my fault he can’t handle his shit like I can.”

“Can you?” She asks pointedly. She gestures to the table, clearly not yet cleaned. “I mean, can you not?”

He rolls his eyes but it takes a second.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine,” he says.

“Well, sometimes I do.”

“You worry about me. Because you care?” He asks airily, sarcasm almost masking curiosity.

She takes a second. He doesn’t have many people looking out for him.

“Yes, Stewy. Because I have the burden of worrying and caring about other people.”

“Oh, right. That must be terrible,” he deadpans. The corners of her mouth turn up nearly imperceptibly.

“Sometimes.” They look at each other. “You know, if you ever want to talk about it, I have experience in being supportive,” she offers carefully.

“You should save that for the guy who needs it,” he says, not unkindly, but not without defensiveness.

“Okay. Whatever you say.” She takes a step toward the door and looks over her shoulder at him. “Never again.”

Stewy nods and mets her gaze for a second.

“Yeah. Never again.”

Rava strides back into the suite and finds Kendall standing just inside the bedroom waiting for her. She stops short as she sees her pashmina draped over his arm.

“Found your scarf.” He raises his eyebrows and looks at her coolly. “I told you I would deal with him,” he says iin disbelief.

“Well, to be honest-“

“You didn’t think I would so you went behind my back.”

“Ken-“

He shakes his head.

“That’s great, Rava. You know, if you want to treat someone like a kid, we have two of them.” She rolls her eyes.

“Right. Because that’s what this is.”

“No, what this actually sounds like to me is you having no faith that I can do what I promise. You said that phase was over. ‘New phase.’ But it’s not. You don’t even think I can stand up for myself with someone I’ve known forever? So- so what else do you not think I can do?”

She hears the freakout and sighs, keeping her voice even.

“Okay. I’m not doing this. You’re talking to yourself, you know that? It’s you who’s worried you’re not up to the job, or staying clean, or whatever you’re referring to, not me. And if you want to talk about that, I am here. But Stewy and I are fine.” He’s getting more wound up by the second, feeling the tension of the day coming back after his brief attempt at relaxation.

“You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

“Well, fine. I’m sorry for caring so much about keeping you safe that I’ll go talk to someone who is putting you in danger.”

He scoffs. “Stewy? Okay. I don’t need you to keep me safe, I can take care of myself.”

A silence louder than their voices fills the room.

“Got it. New phase.” She raises her eyebrows and walks toward the door. He sighs and follows after her. Distance is not the phase he meant.

“Well, I didn’t- I- no,” he starts. She feels self-conscious and crosses her arms. “I love that you care.” He comes closer and hesitantly places his hand on her arm. “I love this,” he gestures between them. “I just- just let me deal with my own stuff.” She nods without looking at him. She reprimands herself for wanting to be needed so badly. There’s some relationship book she’d read making her out to be a bad partner for that- for viewing him as someone to fix or save. They haven’t seen his eyes, she’d thought, but she knew they had a point.

“Yeah. I’m sorry,” she says blandly. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out on your own.” She meant it to sound genuine, but it just makes him sigh. He didn’t mean actually alone. She brushes her hand down his arm and steps away a little bit. “You go ahead to the reception. I’ll catch up later with the kids.” She can feel that he’s upset but she can’t look.

“You’re- you’re skipping cocktail hour? Rava.”

But she’s walking back into the room already. She knows she shouldn’t do this, but her skin is crawling at the whole situation and she wants to be alone. But it’s the last thing he wants. He can’t believe that she won’t admit she’s wrong and he doesn’t even know who he can talk to at this stupid cocktail hour where there are no cocktails for him. He wishes he could summon that little plastic bag and anything else that might numb him. He feels guilty as he wonders if he’ll ever stop missing Macallan 30.

Reluctantly, he drags himself into the section of the stone manor that houses this part of the event and puts his hands in his pockets as he passes under the huge wooden archway of the door. He thought he was done making awkward event entrances by himself. He’s almost afraid to look around because he might accidentally make eye contact with someone who wants to kill him, but he quickly glances up to see if Roman’s around- and sees Caroline heading his way. Oh, good. Her smile is gleeful.

“Kendall.” She kisses his cheek.

“Hi, Mom.” He prepares himself for whatever barbs are coming at him.

“I heard you ruined your father’s day before he even got into his suit,” she titters. “I’m so proud.” He tries not to take the much-needed comment seriously.

“Yeah. Thanks.” The last time they’d talked alone, four months ago, was when Kendall had called to try to connect with her on a lonely Saturday. He was looking forward to the CEO announcement and wanted to share it with someone. Caroline had sounded highly doubtful that Logan would keep his word and it had made him bite his nails and lose sleep for a night. She’d assured him it would be better for him to get out and he’d attempted to explain why that was literally unthinkable. He’d tried to throw in a bit about missing Rava and his eventual plan to win her back, and she’d told him how smart she’d always thought Rava was to stay out of the Roy fray. Kendall had felt stung and wondered why he always kept trying with his mom. He looks cautiously at her as she continues.

“Where’s Rava? Haven’t you gotten her enough staff for her to come join the fun?”

“Yes, Mom. She’ll be here. I guess.”

She looks pleasantly amused and takes a sip of her champagne. Kendall looks at the glass enviously.

“So, how long do you give it?” His eyes flash up at her. Even he has a limit.

“How long do I give us?” He asks incredulously. “Really?”

“No!” Caroline laughs again, light and tinged with the discomfort of a life of never being taken seriously. “Your sister and Tom.” He takes a breath.

“Oh.” Nice not to be the target. “Uh, I don’t know, until she convinces Dad to make Tom head of whatever the fuck and she finds out that’s all he wanted?”

“Are you going to promote Tom if you win this little game you’re playing with Logan?”

“It’s not a game.” She looks slightly suspicious and Kendall feels more annoyed than ever at the fact that Logan thinks they’re just playing chess. “And as for Tom, as much as I love social climbers…” he trails off as he sees Rava coming through the room’s grand entryway in her blue silk dress. She starts a conversation with the people next to her and doesn’t look around for him. Caroline follows his gaze.

“So what did you do?” She asks. “The au pair?” He shuts his eyes and sighs.

“Jesus. Obviously not.”

“So now poor Rava’s stuck with the kids and doesn’t come to cocktail hour on time?” He looks miserable. “Always the serious one,” she almost laughs and he wishes she would be serious for one second. She pats his hand. “But the handsome one, too. I’m sure you could do better than that nanny. Lord knows your father always did.” Kendall remembers feeling sorry for her once it occurred to him around age fourteen that Logan kept mistresses at the other residences where he occasionally stayed.

“Okay, Mom. That’s not- no. I’m not Dad.”

“No, no, of course not. Only joking.” She tilts her head down and raises her eyebrows. “You could laugh. Not all of us want to be so sullen.” Kendall gives her a dry look and Caroline takes another sip as she looks over at Rava. “Only been a few months since her miraculous return, and she’s all the way over there.” He feels a little lost in resentment. “Careful. The drifting happens before you know what’s hit you.”

Kendall looks at his mom and wishes he could really talk to her, ask her advice and have her give him a hug. He briefly considers the fact that she is referencing a time when she missed Logan and he tries to conjure a memory of his parents laughing or flirting or kissing. A strange sense of pity for both of them settles onto him and he wonders if Caroline ever held Logan the way Rava holds him every night. If Logan would even let her. Stewy’s advice to distance himself from the Enemy echoes in his head as he struggles not to empathize with them. He’d watched as they’d started to sleep in separate rooms, then separate houses as he got into his late teens. The idea of being distant from Rava that way makes him feel sick.

“Well, we’re not drifting. We’ll figure it out.”

“Of course. So, you give Shiv what- a year?”

“Sure,” he replies. Caroline smiles.

“Come outside with your dear old mum?” She asks, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from her clutch. He glances at them.

“Really trying to quit,” he answers. “For the kids.”

“Oh, you’re no fun anymore,” his mom teases.

“Yeah, that’s what I hear,” he sighs.

“Just one. Or stay here and wait for the feral dogs to come after you,” she says with a twinkle in her eye. "I hear they're all out looking."

He sighs again and turns and follows Caroline outside. He lights her cigarette and stands in the windy air. It’s cold and he buttons up his coat to stop it from prickling his skin through his suit. She hands the cigarette to him and he takes a drag, taking a moment to feel the calm before handing it back and deciding that’s it for the night. He and Rava don’t need another thing to fight about. It’s been weeks and he’s been doing so well. He stares out at the landscape he has so many memories of running in. The feeling of freedom was nice, even if it wasn’t real.

"So, you, uh, just got inspired to get me out of there right on time?" He asks.

"Well, I'm a philanthropist now," she says with a delectable sarcasm.

"Oh yeah?"

"According to Tatler. I wouldn't dare argue with that kind of expertise." He almost chuckles. Did she do something just to be nice?

"Uh-huh."

“You know, your father nearly smacked a waiter tonight, couldn’t have been more than twenty years old.” She says it like she wishes she were surprised. Kendall shakes his head.

“Well, is the kid okay?”

“Oh, he’s all paid off and drove off, that’s the way. No consequences for Logan.”

“Yeah.” Kendall pauses. “Maybe. Maybe there are consequences for him.”

Kendall walks Caroline back into the party and starts carefully wandering into the minefield of a cocktail hour, scanning for Rava. They have to fix this. He hated going to weddings during the separation, even when he was only there for the networking. He used to sit at the table and stare at cake he couldn’t eat during slow songs. Sometimes if the song hit home too hard he’d find an excuse to leave the room. He and Rava always fed each other wedding cake at receptions they attended to recall their own happy day. Loneliness was so much worse when it felt like the memories of his own wedding day were getting rained on. This was the first wedding he’s looked forward to in years- their first as a reunited couple- and he doesn’t want it to be a loss.

He’s shocked to spot her in the corner with Stewy as well as Kendall’s least favorite board member, Paul. Kendall is under no delusions of who the “friend” was who Stewy had told him wanted Rava. He feels a surge of anger at all three of them- how could Stewy let Paul talk to Rava? How could Rava make up with Stewy before him? How could Paul still be hitting on Rava even after they had officially and very publicly gotten back together?? The way he’s looking and smiling at Rava makes Kendall want to scream. Paul must be twenty years older than them, it’s pathetic. He can see Paul’s eyes flitting to places only he can touch and he has to take a breath so he doesn’t force him to back away. He thinks vengefully about how long Paul will last on the board when he’s CEO. He makes a beeline for their group and tries to stay as smooth as he can. Stewy sees him coming and puts his arm around him once he gets there, patting his back and bringing him into the circle.

“Ken. So glad you made it.” Stewy makes eye contact for a moment. “Seriously.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Kendall answers. We’re good. He swiftly turns to Rava.

“Hi,” he says with a smile at her, kissing her cheek and slipping his arm around her waist. She looks pleasantly surprised at the warmth in what she was expecting to be an awkward moment. He looks at Paul as he wraps his fingers around her side, making sure her body is touching his.

“Paul, good to see you,” he says with what Rava has often joked is his “business smile” as he reaches out his hand to shake Paul’s. She recognizes the expression and tries to hide a grin. This is an entirely different kind of awkward moment.

“You too, Kendall. Hope life outside the Waystar family is serving you well.” Kendall stops himself from rolling his eyes at the obvious dig.

“Yeah. I’m good,” Kendall confirms.

“Rava was just telling me that you two are heading to Saint-Tropez this season.”

Kendall’s fury at Paul subsides a little at the mention of the couple’s old inside joke- Rava used to tell other people that she and Kendall were going on vacation before she’d ask him so he would have no choice but to take time off and go with her. He looks at Rava and she gives him an apologetic smile. He chuckles.

“That’s right, I had almost forgotten. But yeah, it’s about time. Pretty over this dreariness. It’s about time to take my wife to the Riviera again.”

“Oh, yeah, well, maybe I’ll see you there. I’m getting a place there this winter too,” Paul replies.

Stewy looks quietly delighted at the passive-aggressive discord and Rava catches his eye for half a second to share in the amusement. The ice between everyone in the circle melts a bit as she leans into Kendall.

“We would love that,” she says. Kendall glances down at her with a hint of a smile. Paul gets the picture and looks at the ice cubes Stewy is lightly swirling.

“Stewy, can’t have an empty glass. To the bar?”

“Thank God, yes. Excuse us.” Stewy nods and smiles at Kendall and Rava before he walks away.

Rava looks up at Kendall and hopes he doesn’t let go. His muscles loosen a little but he keeps his arm around her.

“That whole thing with Stewy-“ she starts. “-I should have told you I wanted to talk to him. I got scared, Ken. I don’t think he respects your sobriety. As your friend, he should, so I told him that. We just… hadn’t checked in in a long time. He and I are okay, though. We just needed a minute.” She gives him a hug that he can tell she needs for comfort. He hugs her back and turns his face into her hair.

“Okay. Yeah- I mean, I don’t know that I really wanted to talk to him about it anyway. I want you guys to be fine though. This is going to be hard if you’re arguing all the time.” They move apart and she shakes her head.

“No, we won’t. We’re fine now- and I hope he’s going to do better. He knows I want good things for him, too.”

“Okay. Good.” He takes a second. “I really hate fighting with you,” he says quietly. He barely shakes his head for a second. “I don’t want us to, like, drift, you know?” He sighs and searches her eyes before glancing down for a moment. The thought of being distant and cold like his parents is so genuinely upsetting that he can feel a lump forming in his throat. “I’m fucking insanely stressed and I know things are all over the place, but- I don’t want to do things ‘on my own.’ I tried that, you know… and I hated it.”

“Hey, no, no drifting. Come here, Superman.” She pulls him back. “I want you right here all the time,” she lays her hand on the back of his head with her chin over his shoulder. It feels so freeing to say the truth after trying to keep her distance for so long. He breathes in her scent and lets some tension go. He wishes they were already in their room so he wouldn’t have to let go so fast. This day has been exhausting and it’s hitting him. He just wants to curl up in bed and fall asleep to the sound of her breathing.

“That’s what I want too,” he murmurs. He pauses to collect himself before remembering the conversation they’d just been a part of. “That and for Paul to fall off a cliff,” he grumbles, tightening his arms around her and slipping his hands just a bit lower on her back. Rava smiles and decides to egg him on just a little bit.

“Ohhhh, he’s not that bad.”

Kendall pulls back to look at her.

“No?” He asks with just enough humor to keep it low-key. “You don’t see the way that old geezer looks at you? I can’t wait til I don’t need his vote and can fire him Dad-style, whole board watching.”

“Ken,” She stifles a laugh. “That is insane.”

“He was fucking undressing you with his eyes,” he mutters. Rava smiles and presses her chest into him.

“Well, maybe after the reception I’ll let you undress me with your hands.”

“Are you flirting with me?” He brushes his cheek against hers and works all the charm he has. She pretends to think.

“I think I might be.” He feels the warmth come back into his body.

“So, reception for, like, not that long?” He laughs. She laughs along and he takes her hand as they walk toward the reception hall. “Are the kids-?”

“With Connor,” she answers.

“Oh, good. They’ll come back teaching us about fucking- cryogenics and conspiracy theories about French history,” he jokes. “Actually though, I’ve always thought he should be a dad.”

Rava shrugs and grins.

“Maybe he will be. Willa’s not exactly age-appropriate.” He chuckles.

“Yeah. The kids need cousins.” The thought makes him happy and Rava considers what a good job Connor did with his first kid.

……………..

The passive-aggressive toasts that veer toward simply aggressive make Rava shake her head and roll her eyes at Kendall every minute or so, quietly laughing at the pathetic nature of their insults. She’s keeping it light enough that he can ignore most of the jabs in his direction and he’s grateful only to have to listen halfway. It’s hard to distract him when Logan subtly accuses him of ruining the wedding, but he tries to focus on knowing what he’s doing is right. He looks nervously at Roman and is not comforted by his lack of eye contact, which feels purposeful. Kendall can’t decide if he’s being paranoid or not. Next to him, Rava almost catches Gerri's eye, but Gerri deftly avoids looking back. As Rava sips more champagne, her tongue gets more acidic, making him laugh with her sharp comments about everyone’s caustic remarks. He admires how naturally she can lighten a mood, the way she can smooth over the most difficult situations so effortlessly. He’s always wished he had that kind of ease and hopes it somehow soaks into him. During a brief break between toasts, Kendall gets curious about her family politics.

“Hey, how’s everything with your stepdad these days? I know he was kind of being difficult to you around Thanksgiving-“

“And most of the time? You know, he ‘expects my success!’” she imitates. She gives him a twinkle. “But unsurprisingly, he’s been much nicer since I told him we’re back together.” Kendall tries not to let the glow shine through his eyes. He’s unsuccessful and Rava thinks it’s sweet. She knows how much it means to him to get challenging parental approval. “He does love you,” she smiles.

Kendall shrugs in a comically exaggerated way.

“I should be the favorite somewhere, right?”

She takes his hand under the table and chances a look in Logan’s direction. She catches him calmly looking right at Kendall. The vitriol seems to have left his icy blue eyes, and for a second, she could swear he was just a dad wanting to see his son at a family wedding.

“Mmm, I wouldn’t discount being number one here either. Not just yet,” she says.

Kendall decides he likes the premise too much to argue with it, but his stomach twists at the idea that his dad must feel betrayed and furious. He allows himself a millisecond-long glance at his father, who he can see is turning away. He feels a pang of regret and tries to replace it with fortitude, but he’s hit with a wave of desperate wishes to be closer to him, to hear that he’s proud, to get a hug just given out of affection. He thinks about how hard he’s trying to earn his dad’s respect and wonders if he can ever win his love. He remembers Logan smiling at him when he was a little kid and feeling like the world was his every time. What had he done wrong to lose that? He runs through every corporate action he had taken since his dad had bestowed the future title on him a year and a half ago. The late-night strategy sessions they’d had about his ascendence to the throne were some of the only bright spots of the last few years. “When it’s you,” Logan had always started, “I want you to focus in on…” Kendall had always had to try with all his might to hear anything after ‘when it’s you’ in his father’s gruff, strong, self-assured voice. He could have sworn he felt the hot shots of adrenaline and dopamine shooting through his entire body. The few times he’d received praise for doing something right, he had floated home on air. Anxiety floods him at the thought that he might never get another night like those. He’s dying for reassurance.

“I think we should go to your parents’ house when we get back,” he says suddenly. Rava smiles uncertainly.

“Okay.” She squeezes his hand. “You in need of some cookies and compliments?”

He had truly missed his in-laws during their time apart. Rava’s mom and step-dad had always been so kind to him in ways his own parents never were. Rava’s mom Cheryl freely hugged him all the time and always asked the cook to bring him seconds. Their beautiful house always smelled like some delicious baked good, and even into his thirties she would still pat him on the shoulder and tell him he was doing a great job and deserved a break. Rava’s step-dad Robert poured him scotch and talked business in a much more upbeat and excited way than Logan did, once in a while even offering a high-five after hearing about a successful board vote or an acquisition when Kendall managed to save existing jobs while still turning a profit. It was so rare that Kendall got the chance to talk about work with someone who had no financial stake in what happened and just genuinely wanted him to succeed. As a powerful M&A lawyer, Robert had high expectations of Rava and could be hard on her, and Kendall tried to slip in bits about her success too. They went golfing every few months after Robert retired, and Kendall knew it as worth enduring Logan’s disapproval of him having any other family members. One of the most painful casualties of the separation for Kendall was his never-ending worry that his surrogate parents for seventeen years now thought he was a junkie and hated him. But Rava had reminded him throughout their time apart that she would never talk about him that way and that they were also sad about the split.

“Cookies and compliments,” he breaks into a little smile and looks at the table. “Do you know how good that sounds right now?” He almost laughs at himself for how much he needs to be around people who honestly like him in this moment.

“Then we’ll go. For now, how about some cake, and your hair looks nice,” she says with a grin. He reaches up to check his hair in case it was messy and that was a joke. She laughs lightly. “Really? I meant that! It is definitely time to go to my parents’. You need a break.”

“Stewy will love that.”

“He’ll love having you getting things done at full capacity. And Roman- where is Roman?”

“Uh, we don’t know,” he replies uneasily.

“You don’t know?” She repeats.

“He gave his speech, he went somewhere with Tabitha maybe, I don’t see her either now, but… you know- weird timing.”

“Well, yeah,” she agrees. Just as she finishes the word, the DJ returns and turns on the fun music everyone’s been waiting for. Kendall and Rava breathe a sigh of relief at being free from the dangerous speeches and walk out onto the dance floor. Kendall stops for a minute to look around and make sure it’s safe out there. Logan is walking out with Frank and Gerri, Shiv is with Tom at the head table, and Roman has indeed disappeared. He finds that particularly worrisome but decides to push it out of his mind and enjoy the moment. Rava goes ahead to the kids and the three of them start dancing while Kendall hangs back. Classic multicolored uplighting flits across their faces and he takes a moment to absorb the purely happy scene. Rava catches his eye and smiles as she does silly dance moves with the kids. He feels the same flip in his chest as he would when she’d spot him at a party when they were just starting to date. She could always tell that the party king image was an inch deep and that he probably needed encouragement to approach her. Sophie runs over and throws herself into him for one of her sweet enthusiastic hugs that make everything brighter. Rava follows with Iverson and reaches for Kendall’s hand.

“You wanna dance?” She’s bouncing already and he takes her hand and follows her out with a cheerful air. She makes them all into a circle and they swing around, jumping up and down. The kids look positively delighted, and seeing their joyful expressions looking up at him makes him promise himself he’ll do anything it takes to keep them like that forever. He watches Rava giggle and twirls her. She spins close to him and gives him a quick kiss.

“Mom!!” Sophie yells. Rava chuckles and pats her head as she looks back at Kendall and watches him bounce and dance.

“I remember you,” she smiles at him. “You’re fun!” He laughs.

“You’re definitely the only one who’s of that opinion tonight.” But he only needs one. The song slows down and Rava glances at Kendall’s watch.

“Kids, it is way past your bedtime!” She motions to Bianca to come take them to bed. “Bianca is going to help you get ready for bed and then we’ll come kiss you goodnight, okay?” The kids reluctantly agree and Kendall kisses the top of their heads before Bianca leads them out.

“Slow song…” Rava looks at him invitingly. They sway to the music and she looks up at him, placing both her hands on his face and pulling him to her lips. She can’t wait another second to feel his lips, to close her eyes and lean into him. He lets himself relax the way he only ever can with her. After a minute he returns to proper form, but she steps in to close the gap between them, laying her head on his shoulder.

“I don’t remember this part of Cotillion,” he smiles.

“Hmm, well, New York didn’t do it like Connecticut, then,” she smirks.

“Oh, am I married to a bad girl?” He whispers.

“You have no idea.”

“No? You have tricks I haven’t seen?”

She raises her eyebrows and pulls him to her again for a deeper kiss. They’ve both forgotten everyone’s eyes around them.

“Mmmm… that’s good champagne,” he whispers. She laughs silently and puts her forehead on his.

“Stopppp!”

“Yeah, I’m generally not very good at that,” he jokes. He kisses her again, open-mouthed, and she can feel the passion. He’s tasting her. “So good,” he breathes. “Let’s go. Back to the room.”

She giggles and he starts walking with his arm around her. Just at that moment, they clock Roman and Tabitha walking through the door. Rava looks disappointed at the thought of yet another interruption in their day and Kendall notices.

“Hang on just a second,” he says quickly, and she reluctantly lets him go and makes peace with another night of falling asleep by herself. To her surprise, he walks over to Stewy and then straight back to her. “Okay, let’s go.”

“You don’t have to talk to Roman?” Rava asks.

“I told Stewy I think I’ve had enough confrontation for one day. I talked to my dad, I think he can handle my brother.” He smiles at her. “You know what he said, though, and I hadn’t even processed it yet?”

“What?”

“We did it. We’re taking over the fucking company.”

Chapter 12 💗

#1x10 the wedding has been fixed (basically)#chapter spoilers in tags #I started the Alongside Canon Fix-It concept for this fic early on once I realized how this night would have been completely different #if Kendall and Rava had been together for most of S1 #always found it so weird and interesting how jesse said he didn't care much to explore Kendall's addiction because #it literally causes this incredibly central event #and you know #what if he had more support and it didn't???#we see how stable he was and how feeling a sudden lack of support from everyone contributed to the relapse #not that the relationship alone could fix everything #but everything I research emphasizes how important support is to people in recovery #there's a much higher chance of staying sober with a support system #ken basically had no sobriety support canonically but it's so much better when he does! things will be so different 👀#this chapter is special to me because it starts the first plot points that will run parallel to canon in S2!#kendall roy #kenrava #rava roy #kendall x rava #kendall roy fic #succession fic

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sansebastinae · 5 months

Text

a regular day in the ISS. | 1685 words alt title : a short story written while i screwed with html. you can use mobile, but landscape please!

you can read the story below the cut without all the jazz. it's pretty much all the same.

408 km above Switzerland / 4:18:48 PM /UTC +1 CET 38 Days - Manned Mission 2-1 LOG : a regular day in the ISS.

"ah, switzerland again!"

"how about australia for once?"

"no."

"alright, suit yourself then."

-----

"Besides, how hard is it to miss Australia? It's...one big thing just. There. Not my fault you can't catch it in time."

"Yes, and your stupid numbers board there."

"I want to win after all."

"Nothing to gain from winning it, love."

(of course seb is winning…)

««« ────── [ approximately 2.5 years ago ]

Mark's half-superior-half-coworker Jonathan Wheatley had once jokingly asked him if he wanted to move to the STELLARIA Section, in which Mark's response was a grimace and a terse "No thank you," given the fact that the fellas of that section was…eccentric to say the least.

He was unsure as to why Horner decided to open a whole section dedicated to just original research, but given that even the man himself had superiors, he was not surprised. Must be the weird old guy from the Munich University again in his ear. Either way, he must be really special to have all the astrophysicists be in their very own area.

"I watched them do their stuff once." Wheatley said in one of break rooms. "I didn't get a single lick of it, even with the math they used. And I had almost full scores in all the Engineering mathematics. They can get real loony."

Mark shrugged his shoulders, in slight agreement. STELLARIA was chock full of these nerds that are constantly fixated on space numbers, but one of them stood out the most for looking like a 15 year old. but at that point the slightly scraggly man -- boy? -- already seemed to be fond of Mark from the get-go. Rocky had brought him over while touring the place, and the twinkle in the latter's eyes easily meant trouble for him in the future.

Theoretical subdiv, Rocky clarified, the guy bringing Seb around. Not the normal Practical use physics that the other sections worked with.

Charming, he thought, but still, it's unfortunate that they would barely see each other considering the differences in what they did. Some other fella named Anton looked at STRUCTURAL once, and slinked away at the massive working machines he and his coworkers went back and fro to. Couldn't blame him.

Wheatley told him that Sebastian had only joined the company a month ago, and apparently as part of his traineeship, or cadetship, something along the lines, while still working on his final fringes of his PhD or the like. It wasn't officially stated yet to the world, but rumours had already persisted that didn't really have any interest in the other agencies. But that was a wild story for another time. Mark wonders how he managed to do so many things at the same time, and was entertaining the thought of him having a twin or clone to help out.

At the end of the break, Mark had pushed away the thought of the starry-eyed section long towards the back of his mind. Not useful, he muttered.

»»» ────── [ present day, present time ]

(being pushed down by 25-year old worth of kilograms)

"what lame ass metal thing are you doing right now?"

"being dragged down by you… why is your hair so ticklish?! it's just last part of today's experiment."

"ok. i think CORE wants to give us a report for today in a few minutes, and then i can knock myself out."

"you get to knock out? i had to drag you to your sleeping bag because you weren't meeting your 8 hours ─"

"the graph was too interesting…"

"oh god it's you two arguing again."

"oops, hello Marlon."

««« ──────

Overtime. He never really minded it, because the peace and quiet was optimal, for when Mark was too caught up in the place building his things, and free to audibly mumble his thoughts.

Unfortunately for him on this fine evening, a person stood waiting behind his back , holding a slice of chocolate bread made with approximately 100% passion and 89% skill 500% flavour. Mark was dumbfounded at the bread hanging in front of him, but he was kind of hungry. It was a bit singed at the edges, but it still tasted good. He thanked Seb, stuffing the piece into his mouth and delighting in the chip flavour burst.

Until you realise that the person's pass was not authorised for this specific part of the building, of course. He whipped his head around and nearly strained his neck --

"How the fuck did you get in?! You are not supposed to be here." Mark had exclaimed in hushed tones, the first time Seb had managed to inflitrate the Section. STRUCTURAL was tightly maintained.

"I know all the corridors to here already." there's that knowing tone again. What a nosy little shit.

"There's nothing interesting in this place mate," Mark threw his hands up, looking around to make his point and hunking pieces of things and thingmabobs, before looking at the kid before him. "all I do every day is testing and make sure the materials are working right. And doing work I'm too slow to finish."

"It's ok, making stuff is fun. My dad used to be a carpenter and make stuff out of wood. Writing space math gets boring when you're sitting there too long."

You couldn't argue with that, he's a curious kid alright.

He let him have a look around. Seb's eyes were immediately drawn to the panel-type mish-mash item laying about in the corner, lifting and turning it gingerly like a new archaeological find. Dents, dings and bumps marred the surface of it, curious materials all welded with different names to them, like "Carbon Fibre" and "Heat Resistant Fibreglass".

"It's just our in-house materials, Seb. Not that big of a deal."

"Still, making a whole new kind of matter, you guys are pretty cool."

»»» ──────

"psst. hey. mark."

"what?"

(rustling sound)

" 'Thermo-Sterilised Chocolate Bread'… STRUCTURAL Section. What? When did they do these?"

"They had a whole investigation to try "compress" it. Also, i thought you were more level-headed, Mark. They told me you got visibly jealous over people snooping for my bread!"

"God, they noticed that…? Was i that serious about it?"

"you were."

"shit."

««« ──────

As much as Mark wanted to entertain Seb's sixty thousand questions, which were basic engineering (but he didn't mind), he wanted to go home more. So he had to gently convince to him to leave, turning the lights out for the night.

By gently convincing, it meant Mark forcing Seb on one of those roller chairs and rolling him out STRUCTURAL Section's main doors, before kicking the empty chair back in. -- "wait let me get my stuff first!!" he had exclaimed, running back to STELLARIA and back to meet Mark in a record of 3 minutes.

Quite a speedy lad. Mark had not seen someone go as fast as that since University Rugby in Australia. He was obliterated on contact by the opponent as he dived for the ball. Three months out with a broken left shoulder. Ah, the wonders of youth.

"You didn't let me see the machines."

"And you didn't even tell me what you like." Mark had grumbled, fumbling for his car keys as they walked out the tall glass doors. "And you can do it anytime, the machines aren't going to grow legs and run away."

Seb simply gave a grin.

oh for fuck's sake. "Fine. Anyway, I'm going off. Goodnight, Seb." He was about to walk off, before realising something. "How… do you go home?"

"Huh? Bus obviously. Salzburg's pretty good with the public transport. Yeah I have a license but I don't care much for driving a lot."

Mark looked at him right in the eye. "Get over here. I'll just drive you back." He wanted to laugh when Seb just stood there in his stupid oversized jacket giving him a questioning look. "I'm being serious. Where do you live anyway? It's faster than just waiting around."

► ► ►

It was the world's most uneventful trip by many standards. In fact, Mark's passenger somehow managed to catch a quick snooze right after telling him the address. Seb lived on the other side of Salzburg, in a simple four-floored apartment. Despite being practically the same as his own, Mark thought the surroundings were more cozy.

He gave Seb a gentle nudge on the shoulder. "Ok sleeping beauty, nice place you have here."

"Huh…what…?" He looked around before realising. "You seriously didn't have to…"

"It's for the bread. Good stuff."

There was a short moment of silence as Seb processed what Mark said, before turning slightly red. "I-if you want, I can give you different flavours every week," he said. "Banana, Raisin,--"

Mark just sat the wheel listening in mild awe. He would've just gone home and knocked out or gotten a beer. It sort of made him want to try baking, but that was probably his illogical brain talking, before realising he had to tell Seb to not get any more ideas. "No, no, you don't need to do it, it's just that you are really impressive, still finding time to bake."

"It's a nice hobby!" Seb laughed. "Ok, ok, i'm leaving now. Goodnight Mark, thanks again. Take care." He clumsily opened the car door and right after, tried to give Mark the awkwardest fist bump attempt on Earth.

► ► ►

Twenty two hours to the first time Seb sneaked into STRUCTURAL, a slightly baffled Mark whipped his head around to the sound of the maintenance exit audibly opening, to a Seb holding some more of his homemade chocolate bread.

"I have a lot more at home in the fridge, actually, if you'd like."

»»» ──────

ISS INTEGRATED VIDEO LOG : // ZVEZDA-20XX-24-01-XX:23:11:98

(zip noises) come on stop struggling Seb.

HU--REN--SOHN!!!

translation : son of a bitch.

there, neat and tidy. good luck waking up tomorrow, i think you'll be fine.

I will throw you out the airlock tomorrow. You watch.

muah. ok, goodnight sweetheart. love you. don't wreck the module.

fuck you..............night.

-- RECORDING ENDED --

»»»───«««

#writing #space au #not sure what this was for but hey! site stuff is fun #this took too long for how short it is #characterisation out the window. whatever. idiots

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