#a final acceptance of mr robot? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dev1lm4n · 2 years ago

Text

lesson one: sensitive

ko-fi | series masterlist

pairing: porn star!joel miller x f!reader

summary: under several notable circumstances, mr. miller finally decided that he'd be the best teacher for your first debut into sexual activities. even when all of it is to prepare you for your successful date.

word count: 5.4k (i know.. i went a little crazy on this lol)

warnings: explicit (18+), set in 2013, pre-outbreak, age gap (joel in mid 30's and reader in early 20's), inexperienced but not dumb reader, fingering, he's kinda mean, check umbrella warning on series masterlist

notes: i had so much fun writing this! tbh this one is super filthy compared to the other one so.. forgive me �� COMMENT n REBLOG if u liked it

“I could take you home if you’d like. Pretty girls like you shouldn’t roam the street alone.”

Simon, more commonly referred to as Robotic Class Guy or French Fries, was surprisingly not half as bad as you thought he would be. He had all the height of a man but none of the bulk. From behind he could be easily spotted as someone in their late teens to early thirties, mostly blaming his horrid graphic tee and skinny jeans combo, but when he turned that face was all boy. His caramel hair flopped over his eyes in the way no office worker could get away with and on his wrist were bracelets in woven leather.

At first, you accepted his awkward invite out of spite.

Just to rid yourself of a certain plague festering upon your head, feasting on your brain cells so that you’d think of nothing but Mr. Miller in all his glory. Him with his tight worn-out jeans, spread open enough that you could see a naughty peak of his bulge, while he watched the soccer game. Him with his shirt off, bathing in the summer-induced moisture, while he mowed the front lawn and edged the curb. Him with his thumb parting your lips, looking at you like he’s about to consume you alive, but of course he didn’t.

At least now that Simon came around, you’d have a new port to anchor your boat on.

“No, thanks, I’m alright. My..”

Who was Mr. Miller to you again?

Your.. father? Absolutely not. Even if he’s taken you in as a part of the Miller family, just like how he used to say, you would feel like it’d be morbidly repulsive to deduce him to that particular role. For fuckssake, you stick a finger up your cunt every single week to the thought of him fucking you like one of his girls.

Then would a family friend be better of a word? Or should you just say that he’s a guardian of yours? But that’d be confusing, wouldn’t it? You glanced at your watch, counting the hour and minute hand as if it’d give you a revelation on how to answer Simon’s pop quiz.

“Someone promised to pick me up.”

That sure did sound ominous.

With a promise to leave a message to his cell once you’ve returned home safely, you stepped out of the quaint local restaurant. It was warm outside and you weren’t particularly fond of that. Heat has always been your mortal enemy; something about the musty scent of middle school boys’ armpits after PE class mixed in with the pungent perfumes they use to try and hide it has left you permanently traumatized. Your once-cheery mood had long evaporated along with any semblance of coolness. You tugged at the hem of your sundress, fanning yourself with your hand in a futile attempt to find relief from the stifling heat. This is hell!

Where was Mr. Miller?

Mr. Miller must've read your mind, because a honk quickly resonated. He was on the very corner of the parking lot; his large pickup truck looked hilariously out of place when compared to the array of city cars parked by his side. You swore you could see him grin from behind the shaded tint of his window, perhaps entertained at your almost too obvious annoyance. The thought made your heart jump and maybe even did a front-flip. God, you’re helpless!

As you beelined down the sidewalk and on to him, the heat seemed to intensify with every step. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead, causing your hair to stick in weird shapes. You just hope that his truck’s AC works.

“Hi.. Hi, Mr. Miller.”

“Hey, sweetheart. How was it?”

The nickname never ceased to exude so much power. ‘Sweetheart’ made you feel as if a tail had grown out right from the hilt of your ass and you had no other choice than to swish it around excitedly. You propped up one leg on the washed-off gray carpet, before swinging yourself into the vehicle in one go. The door closed behind with a loud thud. As you leaned back, you cringed at the feeling of your sweat-soaked dress clinging onto your skin. You felt like some marinated beef, sticky and in need of a quick shower.

“It was alright,” you hummed.

“Alright? Now that made me all the more curious,” he grinned, nudging your side with the edge of his elbow. “Com’on now. Tell me all about it, will ya?”

“Mr. Miller, are you trying to embarrass me?”

Mr. Miller’s soothing brown eyes that were stuck on the glittering street lights came flickering over to you, as if he’s actually afraid that perhaps he’s made you uncomfortable. His shoulders squared and his jaw slackened for just a split second as he tried to grasp for any nuance you’ve just given. You then smiled at him, relieving him of his worries.

It’s a little jarring to say that you think he’s quite cute. In the same way people find puppies cute, or those strawberry-shaped trinkets. He’s a little socially-awkward in his own way. Embarrassed to ask the waitress to bring his plate back, but would be confident bullying his cock into a tight cunt. Would definitely get kooky when asked to join a parents-teacher conference, but would whisper filthy things on the internet.

“I ain’t tryna make you embarrassed,” he huffed out. “I just wanna know you’re safe.”

How nice. If only he knew why you went on dates in the first place.

“He’s alright, Mr. Miller. Kind, decently groomed, respectful,” you replied, flicking through your Twitter feed mindlessly. “Better than most college guys.”

“Did he pick you up?”

Your forehead scrunched up. “I ordered a cab.”

“Did he at least get the door for you?”

“It’s not exactly the 1900’s, is it?” you quipped back at him.

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for your answer.

“If you’re that curious, then no.”

“Well then, did he pay for dinner?”

“No, well.. I did offer for us to split it,” you reasoned.

“Well, sweetie, he’s not too respectful. Is he?”

“Yeah.. but he’s cute.”

He’s cute and you’re desperate to get over Mr. Miller. Terribly so. At first, the entire situation with having your pornstar crush be the head of your host family was hilarious, it’s a joke written by itself. But then the desires went through the roof in a matter of weeks and you’re sure that you’d actually jump him one of these days. He’s attached to the back of your mind like some ghostly presence. Everything he said and done carved at your brittle wall of determination and one day it’s all going to fall apart like broken glass. You needed to stop it from happening.

There was a minute or so where he didn’t have anything to say. He hadn’t let go of the handbrakes either, though he appeared to be squeezing the leather cover of the steering wheel tighter.

“Cute ain’t enough for a man, sweetheart.”

Mr. Miller finally pushed down the handbrakes and released the pickup truck from the small parking lot. His large hands skillfully turned the wheels to fit through the tiny gaps, guiding the vehicle towards the open road. You shut your eyes for a good minute, then you let out a weighted sigh. Almost as if you’re a deflated balloon.

The drive was going to be a long one, considering the restaurant you’re on was in the heart of the town and Mr. Miller’s humble abode was more towards the outskirts. Would he continue preaching about the importance of Southern manners and being a gentleman? Because if he did, perhaps you’d just shut him up with a kiss.

“I’m just a little nervous,” you broke the silence.

“Because of the boy?”

“Sorta, yeah. It’s my first time..”

You clicked your phone shut, stuffing it on the cup holder next to the car stick. The entire conversation was making you nauseous. You had to press on the button on your left to slide down the windows in order to take in fresh air. Through the open window, a gentle breeze tousled the top of your hair, carrying with it the familiar scent of Summer in Austin. As he drove closer into the outskirts of town, the lights gradually faded behind into a sea of twinkling stars.

“First time in what?”

“In all this,” your hand motioned the idea abstractly.

“You’ve never dated?”

An enthusiastic grin snaked its way to his lips.

“I have! But it’s not- it’s not real. It’s middle school romance. We meet each other in the hallways, hold hands and giggle about it, then go on pizza dates,” you tried to explain. “I’ve never dated properly.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” you tousled your hair in frustration. “Just because, Mr. Miller. I’m not sure either. Maybe I’m just comfortable in my own little bubble?”

“Then this boy.. What’s his name again?”

“Simon.”

“Right, Simon. Are you thinking of dating Simon properly?”

“Maybe,” you muttered.

“Maybe I could teach you,” he paused. “Well, that is if you’d like this old man to teach you old tricks.”

Your hands tightly clutched the edge of your seat. A rise of bile disturbed your throat's peace as a knot of anxiety started to form in your stomach. This is what you’re working towards.

You didn’t want to admit it, because admitting means legitimizing what you had in mind, but you were hoping for him to offer you help in any way that he felt was right. Despite your.. odd relationship with him, he was your guardian and you’ve seen the way he dealt with all Sarah’s problems with soft-spoken words and fair actions. You trusted him to help you delve into this new world of adult romance, but it’s not like you’re expecting for him to agree on it. Shit, shit, shit! You couldn’t think straight.

“Com’on then. Tell me what you’re so nervous of.”

“You’re gonna laugh at me,” you groaned.

“I’m not!”

“You are,” you persisted.

“Fine. I promise not to laugh.”

You took a deep breath. The single word sticky on the end of your tongue.

“Sex.”

The pickup truck swerved.

To your surprise, instead of howling and laughing at your lack of experience, he was quiet. Awfully so to the point where you think you’d rather have him laugh at your patheticness instead of giving you the cold shoulder. You rolled the window back up, giving him your full attention as you waited for him to do something. He looked tense; the grip he had on the steering wheel was so tight you could see the leather developing crescent-shaped marks. What was he thinking of?

“Do I.. do I have to give you the talk?”

“God, no! Mr. Miller, I’m not clueless,” you looked horrified that he even considered giving you the birds and the bees talk. “I am, but I know what happens.”

The hours you’ve spent analyzing each and every one of his videos surely made an impact on how you view sex. Perhaps not the most accurate one, since you were merely looking through a 720p video and not being present in the scene, but you knew how sex goes. How it starts, what arousal looks like, what appears to feel good and what doesn’t, and how good an orgasm looks like when induced by another person. Mr. Miller might not be aware of how much he’s taught you. Not directly, but in a cause-and-action kind of way.

“Then what are you afraid of?” he hummed.

“Making a mistake,” you muttered dejectedly. “Of it not feeling good.”

A beat passed.

“Do you..” he struggled to speak properly. “Do you want me to teach you?”

What were you thinking! It was one thing to harbor intense, disgustingly filthy feelings towards a man who perceived you as an addition to his family, but it was another thing to act on it desperately. Your mind reeled back towards the exact moment when you agreed on his proposition. How you agreed on it instantly as if it wasn’t even a question, how you nodded your head miserably as if you were afraid that you’d miss this one chance, how you buckled your knees at the thought.

God, how pathetic can you be! You didn’t remember much after such a cathartic turn of events. All you managed to compile in that pretty little head of yours was that he took a different interchange, then slipped onto a highway towards.. whatever this place was.

It was on the outskirts of town. Opposite to where he lived. Big trees grew tall and heavy as they provided a mystique veil for the trailer house. You remembered the shade of peeling paint covering the outside, sky blue. The lanterns provided ample lighting for it to be spotted from a distance, but not enough to attract rowdy attention. Mr. Miller told you to come inside first while he secured his pickup truck properly. He mentioned a thing or two about racoons or squirrels, but you were too high off adrenaline to even notice. Being in the property, you instantly knew where you were.

This was his lair.

Where he shoots his videos, where he invites all his pretty co-stars to make them moan and whimper about how good his cock felt and how deep it went, where he edits those striking millennial-core thumbnails. Your throat grew dry and you began to think if it’s time to bail. He’d understand, wouldn’t he? Mr. Miller would just take you home and forget about it. Then, by next summer, you’d be out of his hair and he’d never even think about it.

A creak sounded from the front door. You jumped.

“Hi, sweetheart. You okay?”

You nodded. Your entire body went cold, especially the tips of your fingers and toes as you saw him come close. One step at a time. Almost as if he’s trying to make sure he doesn’t scare you too much. Mr. Miller looked awfully big up close. You never seemed to notice this entirely when you see him around the house, but when he’s confined in this miniscule trailer house, he looked massive. His presence towered over every last bit of your confidence. It’s surely crumpling - your confidence - slowly dissipating into thin when he was flushed against your chest.

“I’m okay, Mr. Miller.”

He pulled a foldable chair from one of the open compartments, before taking a seat on it. He spread his legs, as always, and had this look in his eyes.

“You sure you wanna do this?” he paused, before resuming. “You could tell me you don’t feel like doin’ this anymore and I could take you home. Won’t talk about it anymore if you don’t wanna.”

“I.. I want to do this, Mr. Miller.”

“Are you sure? There ain’t no pressure in this. I’m simply here to help you, sweetheart, so if you feel like-”

“I get it, okay, I get it. I trust you. A lot. And I know you’d be the best person to teach me.”

What were you even saying? This was straight out of your wildest wet dreams and perhaps that’s why you’re so adamant about it. You watched silently as he contemplated his choices. Mr. Miller scratched his beard for a short while, his gaze focused beyond you and you could almost watch in real-time how his morals and values crumbled onto the creaky floorboards. He stood up from his small chair and headed right towards where you were standing idly. Is this what May felt like in those videos?

“Alright, sweetheart. I ain’t a vocal man so this is gonna be challenging even for me,” he chuckled gruffly. “Every man has their way of settlin’ with their ladies, but I like ‘em stripped off their clothing first. So will you be a pretty thing and do that for me?”

For a second, you were as still as a rock. Entirely not used to having the person who initiated many if not all of your orgasms giving you these orders in real life. He’s right there in front of you, flesh and bones, telling you to strip off your clothing. It felt like a fever dream. You must’ve had a weird look on your face, because a grin started to form on those chapped lips of his.

Conscious of the mistake, you quickly reacted. Almost skittishly in a way as you pulled on the zipper that’s located on your right ribs. Your fingers fumbled with one another, as if it’s been braided into one, but you managed to loosen it after a few attempts. You slipped your right arm under the spaghetti straps, before you slipped the other one. The only thing holding your modesty together was your one arm that’s holding onto the support-less front flap of your sundress.

“Com’on now. It’s just me. You can act shy and adorable around Simon, but not this old man,” he teased.

You nodded, hesitantly letting your arms fall to the side. The terribly warm weather encouraged you not to wear a bra. Although you wondered if 3 PM you knew that you’re going to be engaging in some promiscuous agenda this evening. You looked up into his eyes for some kind of guidance, in which he responded with a curt nod, before you tugged on the dress so that it’d slide onto the floor.

Now the only piece of modesty you’re wearing is your plain white panties. Your breasts were entirely exposed, cold nipples firming up as it reacted to the change of temperature. This is embarrassing! Mr. Miller was being incredibly methodical in the ways in which he approached the situation, lacking sloppy mouthy kisses and feverish touches.

“Smart girl,” he complimented, almost on instinct. “Let’s get on the bed, yeah?”

You moved adjacent to him. Mr. Miller was gentle when he patted the spot next to him, allowing you to settle down properly while he fixed a pillow behind your back. To think that you’re positioned on the same bed where you’ve witnessed him please an array of girls made you feel some sort of way. A hitch in your heart, a twitch in your hole. You’ve never witnessed him this gentle. He’s always fond of establishing the power he held on the dynamic he’s presented, always telling girls what to do in quick succession and calling them humiliating names if they fail to do as told. With you, he was sweet and rather funny.

“In my experience, one of the things girls like the most is to be withdrawn from control,” he spoke up into the thick air. You didn’t miss the way his eyes cruised along your beaded nipples, or the way it watched you with feral precision. “Of course, it depends on the person. But you. I think you’re a sensitive one, are you?”

You nodded obediently.

“Cross your arms behind your back,” he ordered and watched closely as you followed suit. “Lean back onto the pillow.”

You copied his order. Only then did your finicky brain finally compute that you’re limited off your movements now. With your body weight acting like paper weight for your arms, it’d be impossible for you to react in quick time.

“Good girl.”

His mindless comment made you tighten your thighs together.

“I’m gonna touch you, okay?” he whispered gently. You could watch how he’s slowly approaching you with much caution. His arms caged you in as it dug into the tangled sheets next to you. He’s testing the currents, making sure you’re fully consenting to the experience before he makes any mistake that might ruin your perception of sex. “Ask your little friend to touch you slowly. None of that frisky aimless touching. If he pulled on your nipples and called it a day, I’d leave his ass.”

This little routine he had, the one Wicked Fantasies had, was memorized into your head and to watch it take place right in front of you made you ecstatic. He caressed the side of your face. Gently even with those big, large fingers of his, he managed to take up a good portion of your cheek. Mr. Miller then made his way to your lips. He swiped it once over your upper lip, then another time over your thicker bottom lip. You’d anticipate for him to stick his thumb in deep enough so that he could see your uvula properly, but he didn’t. Instead, he settled on pressing down your tongue as if to pin it against the lower floor of your mouth. A good amount of saliva was collected that when he pulled away, a lewd string remained intact.

“Do you know why I like pinning a girl’s tongue down?” he queried to increase comfort in a way.

“No,” you whispered breathlessly. “Why?”

“It makes ‘em docile,” he muttered. “Encourages submission and I like a pretty girl who listens.”

Mr. Miller’s fingers dragged through the curves and texture of your warm skin, leaving goosebumps on his wake, before he finally reached your two perky nubs. Each one hardened before he could give them the treatment they both deserved, which in a way broke his routine, but instead of being irritated, he appeared to be pleased.

Girls in his videos weren’t as sensitive as you. They didn’t get riled up just by a little touching and teasing. Seeing you like this was a refreshing touch. One that made the wrinkles on his forehead ripple as his eyebrows quirked. He circled his calloused finger around where the pigmentation started. Once, twice. Right until he was merciful enough to press against the apex of your nipples.

You squirmed.

“So sensitive, are you?” he cooed. “Tell Simon to play with your sensitive little nipples, hm? You look like you could cum just by this.”

“O-oh please!”

“Please?”

You couldn’t respond. Not when he’s rolling the most sensitive part of your nipples between the pads of his thumb and the side of his pointer finger. Touching your breasts with your own nimble hands felt nothing like what he’s doing right now. You instinctually grinded your leaking pussy down onto the bed, almost like an animal in heat.

“Poor thing couldn’t even tell me what she wants. What would Simon think, hm? A girl with no self control like you,” he hummed. Mr. Miller quickly held onto your thighs so that you’d stop rocking onto the bed and getting off from pleasure he’s not offering. Your eyes met his, searching for help, but the sweet and respectful Mr. Miller wasn’t there anymore. “Alright now, sweetheart. You have ta make sure that you’re thoroughly aroused before thinkin’ of even touchin’ this place.”

“You’re new at this,” he hummed. His fingers slipped off the hold he had on your nipples before it slid down your stomach and settled precisely above your clothed clitoris. “It’s gonna hurt bad if you’re not properly lubricated. Sex is supposed to be fun, not painful so if some guy tells you that it’s supposed to hurt, don’t listen to his dumb shit.”

Mr. Miller was incredibly informative if you put aside the fact that he’s touching you in all the right places that it’s making you go dumb. He spent the time explaining why an action must be provided and how to perform it, when you know for a fact that this is not what he’s used to doing. Wicked Fantasies was known to be straight with words, using minimal sentences to provide his co-stars with just the right amount of information. You could tell he’s holding back the urge to be meaner, to act the way he likes, just for you to be more comfortable.

“Let’s take a look, shall we? You think I did a good job, darlin’?”

It’s dark out. There’s only one source of light that’s present in the room. A small bedside lamp in the shape of an elephant, Sarah’s favorite animal that’s grown to be yours as well. This session with him felt intimate; you’d expect for him to bring out the bright light panels and reflectors just like in those videos you watched of him, but instead, he mostly depended on the moonlight rays.

You were acutely aware of how those dark eyes of his mirrored your own. The way he studied you was unlike any other, not with an invasive intent, but rather with heed. You watched as he hooked his fingers on each side of your panties. Slowly dragging it down, only to stop to wait for you to ease your thighs upwards.

“Look at you,” he chuckled. “I’m right about you bein’ sensitive. Don’t think we need any lube when your pussy looks like this.”

By instinct, you brought your thighs together, shy that he’s observing you with such vulgar intensity. He hummed out a tone of disapproval and quickly placed his arms on both of your knees, prying the two apart as if he’s opening a stubborn can of bolognese. You bit your bottom lip, stifling the noise of embarrassment.

Anxiety bubbled up inside of you. You wondered if you looked okay down there - no other men had seen it besides him! - or if there was something strange that caused him to halt. There was a lewd string of sticky arousal pooling on the center of your panties. You silently watched as it stretched and broke as Mr. Miller pulled the thin fabric away.

“You’re soaked, sweetie,” he teased.

“Mr. Miller, that’s- that’s embarrassing..”

“You like to touch yourself, don’t you?”

Your eyes flickered towards his direction in fear. Has he discovered your incurable obsession for him and his erotic videos? That couldn’t be, could it? There’s no scientific correlation between being extremely aroused with masturbation as far as you’re aware, but the confidence he exude made you doubt yourself. Mr. Miller moved in a painfully slow tempo, taking his time to caress your inner thighs and stomach before even considering touching you where it ached. His calloused fingers felt different against your skin. It left a fiery trail in its wake.

“No, I don’t,” you lied with a breathless squeak.

“It’s okay if you like to touch yourself, y’know,” he whispered as if taunting you. “Girls who like to touch themselves understand themselves better.”

Mr. Miller finally touched you properly. His pointer finger probed against your clitoris, touching in the lightest feathery manner possible that you couldn’t have felt it if you weren’t concentrating. Your hips followed the brief source of pleasure, only to be disappointed when you notice that he wasn’t there. He pulled his finger close to his mouth and made a big show out of it. The way your arousal glistened under the pale moon rays, Mr. Miller teased you with his expressions and mannerism. He dipped the stained finger in his lips to have a good taste while keeping eye contact.

“Please touch me.”

“What was that, sweetheart?” he hummed.

“Please touch me again. It feels go-”

You were cut off immediately when he lazily drew a perfect circle on top of your hooded clit.

“Fuck, please, please, sir.”

Ah, he liked that. He liked the new name you’ve granted him. Mr. Miller was kind enough to resume what he was doing. His finger descended down onto your throbbing hole to gather a good amount of slick before he brought it up to aid his ventures.

“The best way to feel good is controlled pleasure. It feels better to be denied than to receive boring continual pleasure, so..” he paused his movement all together. “I’m gonna teach you a little game.”

“A little game..” you sounded like you’re about to cry from his sudden withdrawal.

“Count to ten, properly. Then I’ll reward you with more. If you fail, then we gotta start from the very beginning,” he explained. His warm breath fanning over your sensitive clit. “You think you can do that, pretty girl?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll start now.”

“One, two..”

You felt how he made his laps around your nub. It was much more intense than the pleasures you’ve initiated before. Compared to rutting against a pillow, grinding against a bedpost, or laying under the tub’s running water, this felt like an entire new experience. You fought to keep still, but it’s gradually getting harder when his finger starts prodding against your tight little hole.

“Three, four. Please, Mr. Miller. Oh god,” you whimpered by accident. He didn’t like that one bit by the look he gave you. There weren’t rules and promises to this, no dynamic the two of you have agreed on, but you couldn’t help but be terrified of his disapproval. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sir.”

“From the start,” he ordered.

“One, two, three..”

You could barely remember the numbers in your head despite encountering them almost every day of the week. You’re a smart girl, knows your ways around things, but being touched by Mr. Miller makes you go all dumb.

“Four, five, six..”

Your thighs began to twitch and spasm. You catched the way he pulled back the hood to your clit to get a more direct touch. It was working wonders as the sensation now is a lot more electrifying. Arousal dribbled down your twitching hole and onto the crack of your rear, wetting the sheets beneath you with the sticky clear substance.

“Seven, eight, n- nine!”

You jutted your hips out when his fingers brushed over your clit once more, the sensitive bundle of nerves extra aware of his presence, and he managed to hold you back once more. He’s forgiving. You knew he’d punish his co-stars if they couldn’t stay still like you, but he let this one slide. He continued rubbing slow, tight circles only to alter into an eight shape.

“Ten.”

The ultimatum. It has arrived, your key to heaven.

“Smart girl,” he cooed, never actually stopping. “This little hole of yours looks neglected, hm?”

“Yes, pleasepleaseplease.”

“Touch your clit slowly like I taught you,” he ordered. “You can do that can you, sweetheart?”

You nodded, distraught and ruined. With his sweet permission, you pulled one arm out from your back and rested it right above your clit. Slow and steady. Just like how he ordered. Mr. Miller on the other hand was slicking up his pointer finger with his tongue. Fuck, that looks so god damn hot.

He had pressed his sole finger deep into your warmth with no hesitation whatsoever. The combination of his calloused finger against your walls and the golden freckles inside his narrowed irises had you reaching out for his forearm. Your nails came in contact with his skin as you dug upon it, crescent shapes formed in pinkish shades atop his skin. You had to sit up as the only way you’re getting through this is by leaning on his sturdy arm.

“Oh, you like that, huh? Filthy girls like you love to get their holes filled?”

What you didn’t expect was having him press a second finger in. His one finger was thicker than what you’re used to, but two fingers? That makes you an overachiever for sure. You looked up to meet his eyes frantically. You knew he wouldn’t be kind enough to withdraw the action when his mind is already set on it, but it was worth the try. He cocked his head arrogantly as he pursued his plans. Mr. Miller’s middle finger was a tight fit. Barely able to slip past the ring of muscles. Though when he did manage to get himself in, a loud moan escaped your lips.

“Mr. Miller. I can’t- I’ve never- never taken two fingers!”

“I know you can do it, sweetheart,” his free hand went over to run over your sweaty hair, admiring every inch of you. “You wanna please that boy, don’t you? Little Simon?”

He was skillful with his fingers, perhaps from his job requirements. Although it’s still incredible how he managed to have you squirming, yelling how you’re about to cum in a matter of seconds. All he did was switch between pumping the two in you, creating the filthiest sounds, and reaching upwards to hit that certain spot of yours. You rubbed your clit with much concentration as you followed after his thrusts.

“Mr- oh.. Mr. Miller! I’m gonna cum, sir.”

“You’re gonna do that for me?” he grinned, pushing his fingers into you as deep as they could go. He maintained a steady pace, emphasizing pressure on that spongy spot up top that you’ve never managed to reach with your stubby fingers. “Pretty girl gonna cum from my fingers?”

“Yes, yes.. sir. Please.”

“Cum for me, darlin’” he whispered. “Show me how good you can be.”

Oh god, you're in a lot of trouble.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #tlou #tlou x reader #the last of us x reader #the last of us #tw age gap

1K notes · View notes

sleepanonymous · 5 months ago

Text

Once again, a round of applause for Mr. Lever. You will see an obscure photo of Vessel and II if you click that link, fyi. I actually can't find Vessel, but II and George are def in it, and a friend says Vessel is too. For obvious reasons, I did not include the photo while formatting this post.

youtube

Full Production, Mixing & Mastering catered to by George Lever here at G1 .

Prelude

Working with Sleep Token is always a pleasure. I get this deep seated selfish enjoyment when we start new projects, mainly because I’m safe in the knowledge that the experience is going to be beautifully intense and incredibly rewarding.

Tracking

We started working on ‘Two’ just before winter started in 2016. Working on maturing the structure and fleshing out tones. Its no surprise that when it came to the final tracking that we changed the sonic balance almost completely (this is a running theme by the looks of things) Time restrictions led to us using programmed drums, however we took samples of the real kit to sequence so that it didn’t ‘feel’ completely robotic or lost. Guitars last time around resulted on leaning on my Kemper, however this time we used a live amp and cab for the majority, the momentum from the tubes / movement of the cab is something I’ve had to accept is difficult to recreate ITB. Its easier just to go down the most direct route. I had recently purchased a one of a kind Randall modded amp from a friend in the states. It turns out its an early prototype from when Fortin partnered up with Randall, its not a looker but its a box of pure filth. The Fortin was fed into my Mesa OS, placed an SM57 on the cap joint of the cone and off we went, pretty straight forward really! Bass is a hybrid setup between two real basses and then a 3rd lane of audio from a programmed bass. Because of the way the song’s have been written, keeping the sub lows consistent is vital to ensuring the song flows without feeling disjointed section to section / genre to genre. Vocals is where the most change happened (from a tracking perspective). Originally we had finished and finalised everything with my go-to setup. Modded Oktava > Germanium Chandler > Empirical Labs Distressor. And for the most part it worked. However halfway through the process I bought a Slate VMS. A modelling microphone. Without going into too much detail, its a microphone that can imitate more expensive vintage setups and it does it without any issue whatsoever. Obviously when testing it out and comparing, the VMS won without breaking a sweat. So back to tracking all the vocals again. (The vocalist is amazing however, the repeat performances were just as good, if not better than the original final takes)

Gear Used

Guitars

Ibanez Prestige (7 string) – Bare Knuckle Aftermaths Fortin Modded Randall Diezel Einstein Mesa Oversized Cab Beyerdynamic m201 & 57

Vocals

Slate VMS – AKG C12 Emulation into Neve Pre

Drums

Sampled the original kit, programmed performances.

Bass

Fender Jazz Customshop Dingwall Combustion

Synths / Samples

Logic Stock Omnisphere Spitfire Albion LA Scoring Strings

Mixing

Everything with Sleep Token (from a mix perspective) is orientated around the vocal. The vocal here is god and attempting to get the mix to flow any other way would have been very strange indeed. Sleep Token were very clear and concise about the structure for the mix, Vocals, Samples, Drums then everything else equal after the fact. Very much like how pop is built actually. It turned out to be the most happily balanced mix I’ve worked on. I expected to have a harder time balancing moving between a few different genres through out the track but in all honesty, it just worked. Which in itself is testament to the quality of the song writing. We worked on a few different ‘perspectives’ for the mixes, however in all honesty. The mixes came together with very little effort and the tracking stage defined a lot of the movements that would happen later down the line.

Testimonial

“Worship” Vessel doesn’t give quotes. – ST

Mastering

I ended up going against my usual workflow for the master chain, trying out new things always lends to another perspective / approach / result. The signal chain looked something like this;

FG-Bomber Slate VMR – Neve EQ Focusrite Red 3 Slate VMR – Custom EQ UBK-1 (the density control on this is awesome!) Izotope Limiter FabFilter Limiter

Lastly…

If you haven’t already checked out Sleep Tokens first release ‘One’. You should. ‘One’ was also produced here at G1 but resulted in a darker sound overall! – G

#sleep token #vessel sleep token #ii sleep token #vessel #ii #george lever #two ep #song nazareth #if anyone comes for programmed drums istg 🗡️🗡️#maybe this will put to rest the “ii wrote nazareth” theory too

77 notes · View notes

shantechni · 1 year ago

Text

Aight, maybe I'm clinically paranoid or a little slow on the uptake (the former is more probable) but something just struck me about the episode Buried Secrets.

Donnie didn't believe Mikey, but he still went looking into Mrs. O'Neil??

Firstly, we can all agree that Donnie was bound to check out the data from the cryotube to figure out why Mrs. O'Neil was placed into stasis and left behind at the farmhouse (he's just thorough like that). However, what's interesting is that he doesn't seem concerned with the readouts until after he and the others had collectively yelled at Mikey for trying to attack Mrs. O'Neil in the dead of night. And, keep in mind, it was broad daylight when they found Mrs. O'Neil, still daylight when she told them her story, yet we don't see him messing with the cryotube's computers until nighttime.

Secondly, his demeanor towards who he believes to be Mikey is very unlike the rage he blasted him with during the interrogation scene (something that also happened at night but still preceded him checking the readouts). Maybe he's just in scientist mode and being civil, but other than appearing to be annoyed by the jump scare he received,he doesn't behave as though he's dwelling on what happened, nor does he add any input when April expresses her frustration like one would make him out to do.

Thirdly, when Donnie speaks to himself outloud, he specifies that he's attempting to find out what the Kraang did to Mrs. O'Neil, not necessarily why she was left in the cryotube. The gang learned in the previous season from Kurtzman that April's mom was experimented on before she was born, therefore turning April into a Kraang-human hybrid. And now's his chance to finally find out what was done to her.

I know it's heavily debatable if Mikey influenced Donnie's decision, and obviously he could've been messing around with the cryotube's computer off-screen before Mikey tried to attack Mrs. O'Neil, but I'd like to believe Mikey's claims weren't being as readily dismissed as everyone thought they were being. As I've mentioned in another post, even though the boys have trouble believing everything Mikey says, they do have a tendency of checking out his claims in spite of their disbelief. The first and earliest example of this is in the first episode when Mikey tries to tell them the Kraang are alien robots. It's no surprise that they don't believe him one bit, though it is a surprise that they follow him anyway.

They saw how adamant he was in trying to prove he's being honest, and his urgency is enough to persuade them.

Though the situations vary each time, they continually do this all the way into the final season when Mikey claims to have seen the '87 turtles in their dimension. They question him again, not because they don't trust him, but rather to make sure he knew what he saw was indeed the other versions of themselves. After Mikey tells them the other turtles were taken to Chinatown, Donnie puts together that they must be the reason he was detecting energy from an interdimensional portal earlier, and they all go to investigate. Of course, it turns out that Mikey's eyes weren't playing tricks on him, and Raph makes a joke about Mikey being right again.

The guys have trouble accepting Mikey's words as the truth quite a bit, but the sheer number of times that they go running after him and giving him a chance to convince them is telling of how much they trust him.

As outlandish of an occurence as it was to believe that April's mom was the enemy, they all know Mikey well enough to give his words some thought, and Donnie likely took the unexpected attack as a sure sign that he should do some investigating of his own. Whether or not the others knew what he was doing in the Kraang ship is up in the air, but it'd make sense for him to be secretive about his actions since April would only get angrier at the idea of them not trusting her mom. That idea can potentially be supported by him obviously not telling her what he's doing.

Once again I've completely lost where I was going with this, but I like to believe that Donnie started to believe Mikey right before they were thrust into another horror night.

334 notes · View notes

munamarvel14 · 2 months ago

Text

Late Again, Mr. Jamieson

“Oh my stars, I’m so late.”

Roy sprinted through the sleek hallways of Nexus Academy, his sleek silver jumpsuit catching the artificial lights overhead. His CyberVision glasses flashed an urgent red, almost blinding him. Quantum Physics had started five minutes ago. Professor Tr0n would blow his circuits out!

Finally, the Teleporter was just ahead. It would get him to the skybeam where his class was held. Some students were entering it now…Shit, he wouldn’t be able to make it! Oh, of all the days he didn’t bring his jetpack!

“No!”

Too late. A student gave him an apologetic look before the porter sealed shut. Roy collapsed to the floor in exhaustion. He had accepted his fate.

The intercom above crackled and then came a voice he knew all too well.

“Well, if it isn’t Mister. Robert Jamieson. Aren’t you supposed to be Quantum Physics class by now?”

Roy groaned. “I’m just a bit late, Vox.”

“I won’t count twenty minutes late as ‘just a bit’, Mr. Jamieson.”

“I’ll find a way. Is the Robotics lab open?”

“Restricted during class hours. You’d be wise to wait ten minutes for the Teleporter to reactivate –rather than attempt something reckless. Again.”

“Shut up, you talking toaster.”

“Mr. Jamieson!” The intercom’s voice sharpened with offense. “That is a very insensitive and ignorant comparison! You know very well that I am far more complex than a household appliance and--“

Roy stood up and dusted himself off. “Yeah, yeah, I’m going to the robotics lab…”

22 notes · View notes

gretavangroupie · 1 year ago

Text

The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 7)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader

Word Count: 10.2k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Allusions to Cheating, Lying, Jealousy, Sexual Themes, Crying.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

A/N: Thanks so much for waiting for us while we took our little break. We had the absolute best time at our shows. We plotted and schemed most of the week and there really is quite a bit of exciting new things on the horizon, so keep your eyes peeled.

"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."

DUBLIN, IRELAND

HER POV

“There,” you whispered, putting the final touches on the food display. You gathered up the empty boxes and trash and made your way out the back door of the venue to dispose of them. You hoped you wouldn’t see anyone along the way, keeping your AirPods in as a public declaration to leave you alone.

You’d thrown yourself into work the last week, doing things that didn’t even fall under your scope of work just to fill the time. Your phone was on mute, but that didn't stop the calls. The texts. The songs. They all still came, but you paid them no mind. You couldn’t. You couldn’t be that girl. You couldn’t be the one to ruin a relationship.

You hadn’t spoken to Jake since the friend request came through. You still hadn’t even accepted it. You didn’t know if you even should. She obviously knew who you were, and that alone scared you more than anything. How did she know?

You hadn’t spoken to Josh either. He had done his best to avoid you since that night in the bar, his look more than disappointed as he walked away. You felt a twinge of regret that you’d let him down, but you and Jake were nothing, and he has a girlfriend. He should be more mad at Jake than you.

A call rings through your AirPods, the robotic voice alerting you to Ruth’s Facetime call. You make the split second decision to accept it, pulling your phone from your pocket and tapping the green button.

“Hello,” you answer, shielding your face from the sun.

“God, it’s so weird that it’s sunset there and I’m just now eating breakfast,” she says, taking a bite of a bagel.

“Babes it’s literally what, noon there? Why are you just now eating breakfast?”

“Ugh, this isn’t about me, quit changing the subject,” she gripes.

“What?! I just–”

“Did you accept it yet?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows.

“No! Are you insane! Why would I do that! Then she would know that I know who she is, and then she would know that I know she knows who I am!” you shout.

“Yeah, I…am not even gonna try to decipher what you just said,” she says, shaking the ice in her coffee.

“Ruth! Ugh!”

“What!? I’d accept it, you have nothing to hide. It’s not like you’re posting about him.”

“But–”

“But what? Show her you’re a hot bitch and she should be scared!” she laughs, tilting her head side to side.

“You are actually a terrible influence,” you scoff.

“Fine, what about McSexy,” she says, slurping up the last bits of coffee through her straw.

“Are you done with that yet? GOD.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she laughs, tossing it into the trash. “Spill about Beefy McGuns before I throw myself off a cliff.”

“Yeah I am the dramatic one,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “Murph is…well, he’s good I guess. We have been hanging out a little bit since… ya know. We snuck into the hotel pool a few days ago, got Gelato night before last and last night we went to Temple Bar because the guys had an outing thing.”

“Okay, so you and McDouble are like kinda hot and heavy courting,” she asks.

“Please don’t call him McDouble, that is gross. I mean, courting sounds kinda…more serious than it is. We are just hanging out.”

“A lot.”

“Yeah, kind of a lot,” you admit.

“Do you like him more than Mr. Pene-Traitor?”

“RUTH ANNE!” you shout, trying to stifle back laughter.

“Answer the question,” she snaps.

“No! I don’t know! I mean, I like them equally for different reasons,” you answer.

“Well who is better in the sack?”

“Um…”

“Oh my god, you haven't slept with McSexy yet?” she asks, mouth gaping open.

“No! It hasn’t…gone there yet,” you reply.

“Yet…So you intend for it to…” she smirks.

“Well, I wouldn’t hate it,” you laugh. “I’m kinda like not planning to sleep with Jake again after all this shit. Murph seems less…complicated. He’s fun, and respectful, and we just mesh so well when we hangout. We have a lot in common and it’s just so easy. It’s not serious or anything but I’m trying to see where this thing goes.”

“So guitar daddy is out, officially…”

“Jesus Christ, Ruth.” you sigh, “I mean I haven't spoken to him in almost a week now. I’ve been ignoring every attempt and conveniently finding myself in the opposite room as him. I don't know what to even say to him without exploding so I have just been saying nothing.”

“Has he added any songs or anything?” she asks, quirking a brow.

“A few but I haven’t replied,” you answer.

“Oh I bet it’s eating him up, too.”

You shrug your shoulders as you see the back door open, Sam stepping out to light up a cigarette.

“Hey, I gotta go, the family unit is present,” you say quietly nodding your head to the side.

“Okay, well, personally I think you should accept her request. I’d think it's more suspicious that you haven’t if I were her. Maybe she just wants to talk.”

“I will think about it,” you say, pursing your lips. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Alright alright, and don’t forget my souvenir. I want one with sandy brown hair, blue eyes and an Irish accent.”

“You are actually so annoying.”

Your phone dings in your ear as a text flashes across the screen.

“Oh shit,” you gasp. “It’s Murph.”

“What's up McBeefy?!” Ruth shouts.

You open the text, reading it over quickly as a smile crosses your face.

“Oh okay, why are you blushing Y/N? Huh, huh? Why you smiling like that?”

“So, he just said that The Black Keys are going to be in Glasgow on our day off next week,” you say, a little shocked.

“As in The Black Keys that you’ve loved your whole life Black Keys?”

“Those would be the ones…”

You

6:02PM: How did you know I love them?

Murph

6:03PM: Just had a feeling 😉

Murph

6:04PM: I’m gonna tell the guys, I’m sure they will want to go.

You

6:05PM: I definitely want to go.

Murph

6:06PM: Well good thing I just bought us tickets

“Hello?! Earth to Y/N!” Ruth shouts, and truthfully you forgot she was on the line.

“Fuck, sorry,” you say, reopening Facetime.

“What did you say?!”

“I told him I want to go and he said he already bought us tickets,” you smile.

“Mmhm, yeah it’s not serious at all though,” she mocks.

“Gotta go! Love you bye!” you smile, ending the call and shoving your phone into your pocket.

You nod to Sam as you walk back into the building, making your way back into the greenroom to finish up. Your music begins to play through your AirPods again, and you feel a sense of calmness now that you’ve gotten a little reassurance from Ruth. You tidy up the room a bit, grabbing a few empty cans and chip bags and banishing them to the trash can that is seemingly invisible to these four men.

Just as you turn around you see Jake stepping into the room with his eyes on you.

Fuck.

You jump back a bit in shock, watching as he throws his hands up in innocence.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, a guilty look on his face.

You pull your earbuds from your ears and place them in their case as you lean against the wall behind you. “It’s fine. What’s up?” you ask, trying to seem casual.

“You think we can talk for a second?” he asks, rubbing his fingers over his chin.

“Um, right now? I’m just finishing this up?” you counter, not really feeling like this is the best time for, well, this.

He walks over to the small couch, tapping the spot next to him, “Please, just for a second.”

His brown eyes lock with yours and you know there is no way you can deny him. He had that effect on you. You nod and walk over to him, sitting next to him. Maybe this is it.

You watch as he pulls in a deep breath as if trying to organize the thoughts in his head. He swallows nervously and turns his gaze to you.

“You know, this last week has been…well, to be honest, it’s been complete shit,” he starts, locking his fingers together. “We went from seeing each other nearly every day and texting and everything to…whatever this is. Not speaking…”

You nod your head, wanting to hear his piece before giving your own.

“I miss you. I’ve missed you a lot. I have hated every second of this silence and I would very much like to get things back to how they were before… all of this.”

Did Josh not tell him about Murph? Surely he had…

His hand reaches for yours, grabbing it in his own as he continues and you are praying he is ready to come clean.

JAKE POV

“I know I’ve been a total and complete asshole, Y/N, and you don’t deserve that. That’s not me,” you go on, squeezing her hands in yours. Your voice continues to crack, and the emotion you feel while telling her all this actually surprises you. It’s hard to talk to her, hard to get things out. But you only know that it is because you’re positive that it all means something bigger. Your internal alarm clock is ticking, you can feel the time to get on stage is drawing closer and closer. “I just want you to know how sorry I am.”

“Jake, listen. I appreciate your apology, but I'm still not even sure what you’re sorry for? I mean, I know shit went sideways but, you never even told me why…” she goes on, pure confusion painting her expression. “I know that I was and am being left in the dark about something, and I don’t want to end up looking like the idiot.”

“Fuck, I know,” you say, rubbing a hand over your face. You can feel the bile swirling in your stomach as you prepare to speak again. “If you… I want to talk to you some more, and explain myself, but…”

“...You go on in like fifteen minutes and you aren’t even dressed yet,” she answers.

You nod, sucking in your bottom lip. Her eyes are glazed over, not with tears, but with some other overwhelming sentiment. Your voice shakes as you go on. “If you’re willing to hear me out, I have a long story I want to tell you.”

She takes a second to consider, and you know that she could just as easily tell you to fuck off, get away from her, and to never speak to her again. But instead she nods, meeting your eyes with pity. “It’s hard saying yes to this Jake, I’m not gonna lie…”

“I know it is. I know it, I’m so sorry, I’m just. You deserve to hear it all. From me,” you beg. The anxiety of it all is making you dizzy, and you hadn’t even told her anything yet. But you’re positive that when the time comes, it will all be worth it. She’s worth it.

“Please trust me.”

She nods again. “Just…come to my room after the show?”

“I’ll be there,” you agree with a smile, and you feel the faintest hint of positivity, a tiny flame burning at the end of the tunnel.

—

After an electric show, you dab the towel across your forehead and neck, wiping away the heavy sweat beads that continue to pour down.

“Just keeps getting better and better, guys!” Paul compliments you as you pass by, making your way down the hall to the green room.

“Thanks, man. Appreciate you,” you reply with a pat to his shoulder.

“Daniel, you hitting the shower?” you ask as you watch him take a seat on a red leather chair.

“Mm, here in a few, gonna have a drink first.” He pulls Mia over by the hand to sit on his lap, playfully wiping his sweat-covered arm across her face. “Where are Josh and Sam?”

You quietly walk over to the craft table, giving Y/N a sweet glance as you grab a mini bag of chips from the box, watching as she and Ty fiddle around with whatever random food is displayed across the table. “I dunno, they seemed like they were bickering all night, did you notice that?”

“Mmmhm,” Danny says through a long drink of a seltzer. “I could literally see the fuckin’ blurry tension between them, who the hell knows. He say anything to you, Ly?”

“Mmm, nope. Didn’t say anything to me…” Lyla avoids his gaze. You glance to Ty, and he offers you the same answer.

Just then, Josh and Sam burst through the door in a huffed mess of antics, yelling obscenities at one another as Josh’s hands fly up in the air around him. These two rarely fight, but every once in a while, one of them will get under the other’s skin. And sometimes it’s even worse, when they both manage to piss the other off so profusely, things can sometimes get physical.

Josh’s voice is raised, and Sam’s face and neck are blotched red. You know that whatever it is, it isn’t good.

“How about you stay the hell out of my face and sit the fuck down somewhere, huh?” Sam yells, grabbing a White Claw from the mini fridge and chugging it all almost in one drink. Your eyes dart directly to Danny who is just as stunned as you are, and equally as confused.

“I’ll sit the fuck down when you stop running your fucking mouth, Sam,” Josh barks.

“Whoa, whoa, what the hell is going on?” you ask, moving toward them.

“Oh nothing, nothing, brother. Nothing at all,” Sam huffs, fury raging from him. You watch his eyeliner-covered eyes skitter across the room and finally land on Y/N, glaring at her from his peripheral. What the fuck?

For some reason, just his look pisses you off.

“Not nothing, the fuck is your problem?” you ask him again, shooting your eyes between him and Josh. You see Mia rise up from Danny’s lap, joining Lyla on the couch. They sit closely together, and you swear they’re both biting back laughs.

You finally move your eyes to Josh, giving him a stern look only the two of you can understand. ‘You got something to say?’ you ask him in your mind.

He replies with an eye roll, shrugging his shoulders as he slips his stage jacket off. Josh is biting his tongue, you can tell, and the look in his eye is one you’ve seen often. With whatever rage he’s harboring mixed with the however many fireball shots he’s taken tonight, this could get bad.

You look at Danny, as he knows the heavy feeling in the room all too well, too. You mentally ask him for backup.

Danny stands and clears his throat. “Uh, so… we going out tonight? We’re wasting moonlight if so…”

You jump in and agree. “Yeah, yeah let’s go grab a Guinness or something.” The room stays quiet as you and Danny make moves to get going, but the heaviness is still there. You decide to turn the attention elsewhere. “Y/N, Ty, you coming out with us?”

You can tell that Y/N feels like she’s invading the awkward encounter that’s currently happening in the room, just from her body language.

“Yeah, um, sure… I suppose…” she says meekly. You offer her a little grin of reassurance.

“Oh, you mean you’re not hanging out with Murph tonight? Shocking!” Josh interjects, the tone of his voice menacing. Your head shoots to him.

Y/N shakes her head, her entire demeanor falling. “Uh, no? No, why would I…” she stammers.

“Just figured,” Josh continues, “You guys seemed pretty cozy the other night when I caught you making out at the bar in Paris, just thought you’d be continuing the festivities!”

“Josh!” Ty yells.

Hold…the fuck…on…

Your ears go deaf as you process Josh’s words, all the blood draining from your body, your extremities numb, your throat instantly dry. What the fuck. What the fuck??? He’s lying… That’s not true… she wouldn’t…

You hear a collective snicker from Mia and Lyla, both of them obviously loving whatever fucking show is happening right now.

You somehow find the courage to look at Y/N, her face bloodshot and dripping with embarrassment as she turns away.

You feel like you’ve been hit by a truck. Making out? With Murph? Paris… a week ago? And Josh didn’t bother to…

You can’t find the will to move, or speak, or breathe or anything. Your mind is wracked with confusion and stress, wondering what in the hell is going to happen next.

—

HER POV

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you turn to look at Josh.

Why? Why did he say that?

Your eyes scan the room as everyone stares at you, but all you can focus on is the look on Jake's face. It was a look similar to the one you received from Josh that night, but Jake’s hurt worse. Hit you deeper. You feel the knife twisting in your chest.

You can see his neck growing red, the color creeping up into his cheeks as his anger starts to bubble up. Your eyes flash over to Mia and Lyla who are snickering in the corner like two highschool bullies.

You shake your head and press your tongue to your cheek as you try to figure out an appropriate response. You decide at that moment that you owe none of them a single word. You silently grab your things and head to the door, brushing Jake’s shoulder as you pass.

“Guess you’re not the only one with secrets, are you?”

You cut your eyes to Josh, completely shocked at his audacity to speak about something that didn’t involve him so publicly. It seemed out of character for him and you can tell by the way everyone is reacting to his outburst.

You barely make it through the back door as the tears start to fall against your will. You feel so embarrassed. Everything has gotten so out of hand and now Josh hates you and you know Jake isn’t too far behind him.

You just need to go back to your hotel room. Go back and be alone and cry in peace. You pull your phone from your purse and find the address for the hotel, and much to your displeasure, you see that it is a brisk three mile walk. Not to mention it is 42 degrees. You lock your phone in frustration knowing you have to go back inside and wait for the van to take you all back.

You sneak back inside and head straight for the bathroom, locking yourself in one of the stalls and sitting down on the toilet bowl. You know the van isn’t going to leave for at least another thirty minutes, if not more. You let the tears flow freely in the confines of the bathroom stall, until you physically can’t anymore. You dry up your cheeks with the sleeve of your shirt as a notification from Ruth pushes through.

Ruth

11:43PM: You do it yet?

You decide to bite the bullet. Who even cares anymore at this point?

You open Instagram and tap on her request, hitting the little blue ‘accept’ button and watching as her page populates with photos. Right off the bat you see how pretty she is, every picture perfectly effortless and aesthetically pleasing. Then, you see Jake. Happy, smiling, and holding her. Recently.

You're surprised by the feelings swirling through you, as you’d convinced yourself that your feelings for him were much smaller than they apparently were. You look at every single photo, and with each swipe you feel your own guilt start to grow larger and larger.

Had you ruined this?

You hear noise in the hallway and know that they are leaving, heading to the bar or wherever they decided. You wait until you hear them leave, letting yourself out of the stall and into the empty hallway. As you approach the green room you know you want to get in, finish cleaning up, and leave, avoiding as many people as humanly possible. You press your ear to the door to listen for voices, but you hear nothing and know that the coast is clear.

Though, when you open the door, you are met with someone, and thankfully it’s a friendly face. You see Ty grabbing the canned drinks from the fridge and throwing them into a cooler. He spots you, looking relieved and stops what he’s doing.

“There you are,” he sighs in relief.

“Wha– What are you doing here, I thought everyone left?”

He walks towards you, taking you into a hug before you can even process what he’s doing. It’s as if he already knows how you’re feeling and you fall into it, letting him wrap you up in his arms.

“I’ve been around long enough to know how shit tends to go down in this family. I knew that Josh was in one of his moods tonight and Sam pushed him over the edge. Unfortunately, you were on the receiving end of things. I don’t blame you for walking out, but I am glad you came back.”

“Why are you always looking out for me?” you ask, feeling like you might cry all over again.

“Real recognizes real, baby,” he winks, releasing you from the hug and returning back to the cooler.

“Ty,” you whine, knowing you don't deserve his kindness.

“Look, I know I shouldn’t, because he needs to do this himself, but I am really sorry about Josh. I’m gonna make him apologize to you as soon as I see him, I swear.”

“No, no, no. It’s okay. He is right. This whole thing is a mess and he and Jake and shit, even Sam, have the right to be mad at me. I fucked up.”

He shrugs his shoulders, “It’s a little bit of a mess but, it will get cleaned up. And as for Sam, I don’t think Sam is mad at you, per say, but more of just the situation and how he learned of it. There’s been some other shit going on with him lately, but don’t you worry I’m on your team, here.”

“You don’t need to be on my team, Ty. You have dealt with enough of my shit,” you laugh, hoping he doesn’t actually take your advice.

He closes the cooler up and takes one last look around the room, both of you finding it spotless. “Oh, just let me. This is my shit and I am used to corralling these rowdy motherfuckers, I do it in my sleep.”

You laugh and shake your head, “Alright, alright, fine.”

He nods in victory before turning to you again, “You’re coming to the bar, right?”

“No, I’m probably gonna go back to the hotel and cry some more.”

“Actually, you’re not. You’re gonna go back to the hotel, pretty yourself up and come meet me.” He flits his hand to his chest as he points to himself. “I’ll text you the address when I get there.”

“Ty I can’t! I can’t even face Jake right now! And Mia and Lyla… I don’t know…” you stammer.

“No, hang out with me all night. You don’t even have to talk to those bitches, I don’t half the time.”

You laugh at his honesty, and realize maybe you could go tonight.

“I don’t know…”

“Listen, it will look a lot worse if you don’t go darling,” he says, tilting his head to the side. You know he’s right.

“Alright, fuck it.”

—

TY POV

Involving yourself in other people’s business wasn’t always your forte. In fact, it was something you tried to stray far, far away from. The thought of adding unnecessary stress into your life seemed daunting and pointless, especially when the outcome ended up being opposite of the one you desired, but, nonetheless… You find yourself here, completely involved in whatever drama is transpiring between Jake and Y/N.

It’s none of your business in the least. It never was. But you could tell from the get-go that if no one else was going to step in and try to help each of them realize what was happening in front of them, you would have to be the one to do it. Who better, honestly?

You told Jake from the beginning that Isla seemed shady… though at first the two of them seemed like the happiest of two human beings, just like all new relationships do. She was good for him, and he treated her well. The day he told you and Josh that he told her he loved her, you were happy for him. Happy for them both. Things were good and they were taking Jake’s career changes in stride together. That was until you started to see straight through that bitch.

That’s right, you’re not uncomfortable saying it anymore. She turned into a true-blue, cold hearted bitch.

What started off as snide little remarks to Jake, in public, grew into full-blown insults that had you left with your mouth hanging open in disbelief. He let it slide off his back, though, and you swore it was like no one else even noticed it. How her behavior had changed almost overnight. You could see the respect she once held for Jake morphing into resentment right before your eyes, but everyone else seemed to think it was normal.

It didn’t take long, though, for Josh’s twin-sense to be set off when he felt Jake’s normally low-key temper burning into fury; he was quite literally like a pot that was going to boil over anytime. Josh realized, but you don’t think he ever really realized, though to you, it was plain as fucking day.

You and Josh welcomed him into your home, let him crash on the couch or in the guest room after he’d run away from her. It almost started to drive you insane that everyone else was just watching on as he let her walk all over him, all in the name of what everyone thought was love.

No. Fuck that. She may have loved him, but your senses absolutely buzzed with the feeling that all she was there for anymore was his status and fame. It made you sick how she took advantage of his popularity and his talent, only wanting to go out with him if it meant she’d be seen attached to his arm, only wanting to support him when it meant she’d reap the benefits. Made you fucking sick.

But, like a good brother in law, you kept your mouth shut for the most part, until one day things got so bad you realized that Jake had seen the light, fully disconnecting himself from her right before you all left for this tour.

And the minute you realized he was taking interest in Y/N, you felt like your heart could explode with relief for him. Finally, a distraction. The day you let him know how you felt about Isla in the bar was the first time you really said anything at all to him, hoping that your words of honesty would help to further the situation.

But now… Now. Fuck, it seems like things have gotten messier than you anticipated. Y/N is the first person you’ve met in a while who matches your energy, who connects with you without any effort to do so. You like her a lot, and you are fighting to be on her team. But damn, if it doesn’t seem like she just dug herself into a hole…

So after what the fuck ever just happened in the green room, you know it’s time to strap your boots on and fix things, or at least try to. You’re no stranger to mediating arguments within this family, so you feel no shame in waltzing into this bar with a new flame lit under you. You’ve gotta fix this. For Y/N, and for Jake.

You blow warm air into your hands as you walk into the bar, finding everyone gathered around a large table together. Good, they haven’t ripped each others’ heads off yet.

You take an empty seat next to Josh, greeting him with a quipped ‘Hey’ as you’re still a little bit pissed at his behavior earlier. His hand lands on your thigh, but you quickly pull it away, knowing that if you’re going to be the middleman here, everyone has to be on a level playing field.

“The hell is wrong with you?” Josh slurs into your ear.

You shoot a look his way, letting him know that now is not the fucking time. A quick glance around at everyone tells you that they’re all already fairly intoxicated, still sneering at one another overtop of their half-empty glasses. Great. Perfect.

You take notice that Murph isn’t here, which is a good thing right now. He might need to stay behind and let the others have it tonight. You cross your arms over your chest as you make yourself comfortable in your seat. You clear your throat dramatically, effectively getting the attention of the table.

“Alright motherfuckers, who wants to tell me exactly what just happened in the green room?” you demand, taking a second to look Sam and Josh in the eyes first. The entire table groans and waves you off, except Sam, who gives you a look that says ‘Can’t tell you right now, but I will explain later…” He then does a quick glance to Lyla. You take mental note of that.

Of course, Josh speaks first. “There’s not much to say, Ty… I caught our runner making out with our head of security last week, I don’t know what else you want me to say…”

“I want you to tell the table why you are so pissed off about that, Josh. Why are you so concerned with something that isn’t your business?” you quip back.

Josh mirrors your stance, crossing his own arms as he motions to Jake. “Hm, I don’t know, why don’t you ask my fucking twin, huh?” Everyone then turns all their attention to Jake, putting him directly in the spotlight. Your stomach turns over with nerves as you feel the tension in the room thickening with every passing second. You don’t want to do things this way. But, you’ve learned from experience, getting it all out on the table is the best way for them to do things like this.

Jake is standing, running his tongue across his teeth, his face already glimmering with a nervous sweat. “Okay, fuck it,” he sets his beer down on the table, yanking a free chair out from underneath it and harshly taking a seat. “Y/N and I have been hooking up since tour started. Pretty regularly. Thought things were good. But I guess it doesn’t fucking matter anymore since apparently I was dumb to the fact that she’s more into our beloved Murphy.” You can tell he is seething.

You hear Mia and Lyla gasp like the news was brand new to them. “So it’s fucking true, then, huh Jacob?!” Lyla practically yells, leaning over the table at him. “Ohhh, we fucking knew it, you sorry ass bitch.”

“It’s actually none of your fucking business, Lyla, so why don’t you lay the fuck off,” he retaliates.

You watch Mia put her hand on Lyla’s chest as she leans across her toward Jake, her words spitting with venom to him. “Actually it is my fucking business, Jake, Isla is my best friend you absolute dick! And she’s your fucking girlfriend!”

Jake almost stands from his chair completely, leaning over to her now. “She’s not my girlfriend anymore, Lyla! She hasn’t been for a long time! She just won’t admit it to anyone or even herself! Don’t speak on things you have absolutely no fucking idea about, Lyla. It’s not a good fucking look.” Jake is visibly vibrating with rage. You feel Josh doing the same.

Next thing you know you hear Sam bellowing toward Jake. “Hey, don’t fucking speak to her like that, man, or I swear to god–”

“Oh, I’d be fucking careful, Sam, given I know all the dirty details about our little conversation in my room the other night…” Jake defends himself with a finger pointed directly to Sam. His jaw is clenched so tightly you think he might break his teeth.

Sam gives Jake a death glare that you know all too well, as Lyla turns in her seat to face him. “What the fuck is he talking about, Samuel? Is that why you disappeared drunk off your ass the other night? To go to Jake’s room? What did you talk about?”

Sam closes his eyes as he tries to diffuse his rage. “What the fuck ever, I’m just pissed everyone knew about Y/N and Jake besides me,” he slurs. “Always failing to let me in on the fuckin’ secrets.” You roll your eyes at Sam, suddenly confused and intrigued about what kind of conversation he had with Jake, anyway.

“This is why, Sam! Right here! Shit blows up!” Jake yells.

Josh groans, leaning his elbows on the table to Jake. “Yeah, just like I fucking told you it would.”

Jake scoffs hard. “Don’t talk to me about shit blowing up when you didn’t tell me for a god damn week that she was fucking around with Murph behind my back, Josh!”

“Ohhhhhoho, don’t try and pull that, I told you this shit wasn’t going to work anyway,” Josh responds with a sneer.

“Wasn’t going to work?!” Mia yells. “What do you mean, wasn’t going to fucking work?! You have a girlfriend Jacob, are you a fucking idiot?!”

You watch as Danny physically lets his face fall into his hands, shaking his curls side to side.

“Alright, alright, everybody calm the fuck down,” Josh says loudly, actually qualming a situation for once in his life. “Let’s take a break, let’s talk this out.”

You dart your head to the side to give him a sharp look. “No, Josh, you’re the one who opened your big mouth in the green room and set everybody off, let’s hash this shit out right now. Everyone’s doing an excellent job of letting it all fly. Let’s not stop now,” you argue, putting your foot down. You motion with your hand to everyone at the table. “Keep going, let’s go…”

You hear a wholehearted laugh come from Jake at Josh’s expense.

Sam looks at Lyla, raising his voice a little. “Is this why you’ve been so fucking irritable lately?”

Oop, shouldn’t have gone there, kid.

She shoots back in her chair, looking as if she’s ready to pounce on him. “Whoa, whoa, irritable? Excuse me? Actually ya know what, yeah, I guess it fucking is!” She yells. “You’d be fucking pissed too, wouldn’t you?!”

“I guess I don’t know, since nobody ever fucking tells me anything!” Sam retaliates with his hands in the air.

“Sam you have got to be fucking kidding me… Do you not remember me sleeping on your couch for days at a time? Do you think I just did that because I missed you? Be serious…” Jake says with a little sincerity in his tone.

“I don’t know! Shit, I guess I just thought you were…”

“Thought I was what?! Bored? Lonely? Hated my own home? Well, I guess that last one kinda makes fucking sense, now, huh?” Jake goes on, running a hand over his mouth.

Lyla speaks up. “All those nights you spent at our house Jake… you know Isla cried herself to sleep each and every one. Talked to me on the phone until 3AM until she couldn’t cry anymore because you fucking left her, over and over again–”

Jake leans his elbows on the table, hiding his face behind his folded hands. You can tell by the redness in his face that he is holding himself back from absolutely laying into Lyla.

“Oh, you don’t even want to start with me, Lyla…” he grits his teeth, the vein in his head pulsing with rage again.

“Chill out, Jake…” you hear Josh warn under his breath.

“Do you know why I left, Lyla? Over and over again?!” His tone calms. “Yeah, I bet you don’t because all you care about is her fucking side of the story… did it not occur to you that I have one, too? What about my fucking feelings, huh? How do you know she’s not purposefully making me out to look like the bad guy? I bet nothing was her fault, was it? Hm?” He asks, looking around the table. Everyone stays silent, avoiding his glare.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. No one bothered to come and ask me what was wrong, hear my side of the story. Fucking figures, she always gets what she fucking wants, anyway,” he goes on, suddenly able to breathe through his words. “None of you cared to realize I’ve been fucking miserable for months? Tried ending things for months? I bet not, huh. You only got lies and a sob story from Isla.” He takes a deep breath. Keep going Jake…

“So yeah, I tried to end things with Isla. Multiple times. Now I know I have royally fucked up with making my life messier than it needs to be–”

“She still fucking lives with you, Jake–” Lyla cuts.

“Yeah, I fucking know that, genius,” he eyes her sideways. “You think this has been easy for either of us? I asked her to move out way before we started packing for this fucking tour… So yes. I did start hooking up with someone else. And you know what? I don’t regret a goddamn second of it. I finally found something that makes me fucking happy, and not miserable every single second of my life. And if you want to know why I think my actions are justified, you can speak to me directly about it. I’m a grown fucking adult, and I don’t owe you a goddamn thing if you don’t even have the decency to speak to me about my own fucking business…” Jake cuts his eyes directly to Mia and Lyla, making them sink back in their seats a little.

Fuck yes, Jacob. Fuck. Yes.

Just then, like a sitcom hitting its dramatic peak, Murph enters the bar, leaving everyone gathered around the table even more speechless than they were before. You feel a collective breath be taken by everyone before Jake shoots up from his seat. “Another round?”

Hell yes. Success.

Well, kind of. Progress.

You look at your phone, seeing that Y/N had texted you a ‘?’ about fifteen minutes ago.

“Perfect timing, Y/N is on her way here, too!” you announce, your voice full of pep.

“You’re shitting me, right,” Josh murmurs under his breath to you.

“Good, great. Grand. A big family reunion, huh?” Jake says sarcastically in his faux-accent. “I’m over the fucking moon.” Jake darts his eyes to Murph for a split second before making his way back to the bar.

You take a second to hide your phone under the table, texting Y/N back.

You

12:32AM: Come. Sit with me. I’ll have a drink waiting for you.

—

HER POV

Your palms are sweating with nervous energy, despite the freezing cold weather. You almost didn’t go. You talked yourself out of it three times before you ever left the room, but knowing that Ty was waiting for you was enough of a reason to go. He liked you, looked out for you and treated you like a friend even though he didn’t have to. You could suck it up for one night.

As you push the door open you’re immediately met with warm air and the smell of stale beer. It’s loud in the small bar and terribly lit, making it hard to find the group. You see a hand wave you in its direction, and at the end of it, Ty. The table he is sitting at is fairly empty, most of the group dispersed throughout the bar, playing pool or darts. He pulls out the barstool next to him, sliding a drink in your direction.

“You made it!” he smiles, watching you sit down next to him.

“I did. What’s going on, I feel kinda weird about being here,” you admit.

“Ahhh, don’t worry about it, everything is fine. Promise.” he says, taking a sip of his beer. “Everyone is pretty drunk now, and has already forgotten about earlier.”

You glance around the smoky bar and as you look behind you, your eyes meet with Josh’s, who is giving you the most apologetic eyes you’ve ever seen. You give him a curt smile, and turn back around, knowing that a conversation with him is low on your list of priorities at the moment.

You spend most of the next hour with Ty, laughing and discussing anything and everything that does not have to do with Greta Van Fleet. He’s a sweet guy and you can tell why Josh fell for him, with his ability to make everyone feel heard and wanted, so easily.

You’re two drinks in when you feel a warm hand on your shoulder, pulling you from your conversation with Ty. You turn to look at the person, but you can smell that it’s Jake, his cologne at the forefront of your mind. You feel him lean down to your ear, his breath on your neck.

“I’d still like to talk tonight,” he whispers, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

You take a deep breath and try to center yourself. You turn fully to look at him, seeing that he is not nearly as mad as he seemed earlier, and you know you want to hear what he has to say. You want to hear his side of the story you’ve pieced together over the last week. You nod at him as your eyes meet his, and he nods back, stepping away to return to the bar already going over what he will likely say later.

—

An hour later you find yourself in your hotel room, pacing as you anxiously wait to hear from Jake. He left the bar before you did, deciding to ride back with Ty and Josh after the others left. You took a shower and tidied up your room and still, you haven't heard from him, that is, until your phone buzzed on the dresser.

Jake

1:47AM: What is your room number?

Shit! Okay.

You

1:48AM: 407

You know it won't be long until he is knocking on the door, and your heart is beating hard in your chest. You try to slow your breathing and calm your heart rate before he gets here, but you know it's no use because it will spike again as soon as you see him.

The knock echoes through the room and you make your way to the door, swallowing back your nerves. As you open the door you find him standing there with one hand in his sweats pocket, and the other gripping a CD.

You look at it as he presents it to you, a smug smile on his face as you realize what it is.

‘An Awesome Wave’.

“This is–”

“The album we listened to on the plane, yeah,” he finishes, smiling as he steps into your room. “Found it in a record shop the other day in London. Thought of you and that first time we talked on the plane.”

You both step further into the room, your heart already twisting at his sweet gesture. He thought of you. You sit on the edge of the bed as you stare at the CD in your hands.

“Listen, I’m sorry you had to find out about Murph like that, I never meant for that to come out like that,” you offer, letting your eyes flick up to meet his as he stands in front of you.

“Look, I came here to apologize to you, Y/N. Not the other way around. You said I’m not the only one with secrets, and I guess that’s true, but I am more interested in setting the story straight and finding out what secrets you seem to be privy to.”

JAKE POV

She holds your gaze for just a second as she leans forward, grabbing her phone from the dresser behind you. She takes a shaky breath as her thumb dances across the screen, obviously looking for something. Your heart starts to beat faster and faster as she searches for what she’s looking for, a million different suspicions of what it could be flying through your mind.

Finally she turns her phone, showing you a screenshot of when Isla requested to follow her on Instagram. You feel your eyes grow as you breathe out a surprised “Oh.”

Fuckkkkkkk. She found her.

“Yeah. This was a while ago. I accepted her request tonight after the show. I know everything, Jake. I know about you and her. I know you’ve been lying to me this entire time,” she says bravely, gritting her jaw as she speaks.

“Let me stop you there, Y/N. Please…” you beg, preparing yourself to finally lay everything out on the line. The time had come. You take a deep breath as you readjust your seat. “Where do I even fucking begin?” you ask rhetorically.

“If I were you, I’d start at the beginning,” she suggests firmly.

“Alright, okay, yeah…” you agree, doing your best to find the courage. “Her name is Isla Whitman. And… Yes, she still lives in my home. Isla and I had been together for a long, long time. She was there when everything skyrocketed with the band, right when everything started to take off. She moved in with me, life was going good. She uh… things were great, obviously, as I’m sure you’ve seen from the photos…” you say, motioning to her phone. “We were really good for a long time, I was really happy…”

“But then uh, but then things started to go south. Like really, really badly.” You wipe a heavy hand across your face as you relive those terrible days again. “I started to realize that she wasn’t here for me anymore, that she was here for whatever status I held. Only here because of the success of the band and shit. Only wanted to be seen and be a part of things if it meant she would be photographed and noticed by our fans. It was weird shit, like the fame got to her, and she wasn’t the one even… anyways. She turned into a completely different person, almost overnight. Apparently, uh… it was a lot worse than I even realized, now that I’m kinda putting things into perspective, and Josh and Ty are agreeing with me. She used me. She used the hell out of me. Talked down to me all the time. Gaslit me. Made everything my fault. We got into terrible, horrible fights. All the time. I’m talking fights so bad that we both would throw things at the walls. There at the end, I started spending nights on Josh or Sam’s couch, I’d completely leave for days on end until she’d swindle me into coming back home, all for it to happen again. Over and over. It was…really fucking horrible, Y/N,” you recount, feeling a lump growing in your throat.

“I uh, I tried to get her to move out multiple times, told her I was finished, I couldn’t do it anymore. Mentally, I was done months ago. Over it. Then the night before we left for Europe, we fought and cried until 4:00 in the morning, and our flight left at six. The only way I could get out the door was if I agreed to go on a “break”. Which I know now was a stupid fucking idea,” you go on.

“My idea of a break was no contact, cut off completely, do our own things while she found another place to live, then when I got home, we could discuss things like rational adults and get things figured out maturely, but. Ever since we’ve been here, she’s done nothing but try to involve herself in my life even more so than she did when I was home,” you bite your cheeks in as your eyes glaze over, feeling that same gut sensation that keeps haunting you at the worst times. That guilt creeping back up again and again.

“My intention was never to hurt you, or harm you in any way at all, Y/N. Please know that. I left Nashville thinking I was practically a free man, finally. Ready to relax and disconnect while we worked. And I never intended to find you. And I never intended to… fall for you…like I did,” you explain, looking up to her with cautious eyes. “You completely blindsided me. Made me feel emotions that I hadn’t felt in years, Y/N. I should have told you from the beginning. I know I should have. That is the one thing that I regret completely and totally. I should have been upfront with you about it all. But, I was scared of fucking it up, you know? Scared you knowing about her would push you away. And now… I guess it blew up in my face even more than I thought it would…backfired completely.” You shake your head as you exhale a deep breath, letting a silence fall between the two of you.

“I understand, Jake,” she finally whispers. “I really do…”

“Really? You do?”

“Mhmm. I get how hard that must have been. Especially since you had no idea it was even happening for so long,” she explains. You nod your head in agreement. “Feels fucking stupid now, I should have picked up on it.”

“But she still lives with you. Still thinks you’re hers…” she reiterates.

“Yes. Well, I guess? She still calls constantly, still texts me incessantly–”

“Was that who was calling the night we… ya know…”

You face reddens at the memory of that first night you hooked up, when you couldn’t even fucking perform for her. You nod. “Yeah. Well, her and my techs. It was a whole thing.”

“God…” she says, standing from the bed and shaking her hands out by her sides. She starts pacing the room and running her hands through her hair. “I feel so stupid…”

“You feel stupid?! Y/N, I am the idiot, here, not you…” you argue, standing from the bed as well. “I’m the one that fucked everything up and probably lost you completely.”

She stops and rolls her eyes at you, tears poking from the corners of them. ��I should have… I should have asked you if you had someone, Jake. I should have gotten to know you better…” she starts to cry. “That’s like, girl rule #1.”

“Noooo no no, please don’t cry, Y/N…” you rush to her, gently placing your hands on the undersides of her elbows as she crosses them protectively across her chest.

She runs a hand under her eye as she wipes a falling tear away. She scoffs at herself.

“No, Y/N. That was my fault. We kinda just…happened, you know? Our lust got the best of us,” you laugh a little at the memory of sneaking her into the bathroom that night at the bar.

“My suspicions kinda drove me away, ya know? I knew something was up the night Sam came to your room, talking all that…” she says. “You hiding me in the fucking bathroom.”

“Yeah, yeah I figured as much. I should have told you right then and there, I’m so sorry,” you plead.

“I’m not gonna lie, Jake, my trust is…”

“Probably fucking shattered, isn’t it?” you ask, feeling a bottomless feeling in your chest. Like the whole situation has no happy ending, because how could it? Everything is fucked.

She shrugs, looking past you at nothing. “I don’t know.” She walks slowly and sits back on the bed. “And Mia and Lyla? They–”

“Lyla is Isla’s best friend, yes. So of course Mia is pulled into that, as well. And, of course they are praying on my downfall. They don’t know my side of the story,” you explain, suddenly realizing that at the same time, Y/N doesn’t know Isla’s side of this story. You hope that she takes your’s in stride.

“Great, great. Cool,” she complains. “Now they hate me, too.”

“No, I’m not gonna let that happen. I told Lyla to come and speak with me directly if she wanted the full, true story. We’ll get that sorted out, don’t worry,” you explain. “No one hates you.”

“You aren’t mad at me for… with Murph?” she asks.

Ah, fuck.

“Shit, I mean… I’m not mad, I don’t guess. I’m… I guess I’m blindsided with that, too,” you know you can’t explain how you feel, because you truly haven’t had time to even process it yet. “I pushed you away, I get that. Fuck, we hardly spoke for a week. Of course you wanted nothing to do with me. Then Isla goes and adds you on social media…? I mean. Fuck, I get it. Murph is… a cool guy…” you have trouble admitting it.

“It’s not that serious, Jake,” she says, almost a whimper. “He and I, we just… clicked.”

Her words almost cut you in half. You thought she clicked with you.

“I get that,” you choke, as much as you hate to say it, you have hardly any dog left in this fight. “Listen, the bottom line is, I know I fucked up. Royally. I wouldn’t blame you if you never want to speak to me again. I don’t blame you for running away from me. But… I swear to god, Y/N, I would fight for you to the end of my days… You gave me something that I haven’t had in so long, I hardly remembered how it felt to be happy. You gave me excitement, and energy, and… you showed me that even though my life was absolute shit, it didn’t have to be that way. You showed me happiness, Y/N. I can’t ask for more than that. And if you ever give me another chance, I know I’d spend all my time repaying you for just that little bit of happiness you gave me, because it was one of the best times of my entire life.” You let out another shaky, huffed breath, fighting back tears, yourself.

Her eyes begin to well again, and you even work the tiniest smile from her. She licks her lips, rubbing them together. “Might take me some time, Jake. I don’t–”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight. I just don’t want you to hate me.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t hate you…”

She relaxes back against the fluffy pillows on her bed, her eyes obviously becoming heavy.

“Can we agree to start fresh? As friends? Forget about all the stupid shit?” you extend your hand out for her to shake, praying that if she could just give you this….

She takes it gently, clicking her tongue. “My intuition is telling me not to, but. I don’t see anything wrong with starting fresh… Honesty. From here on out.” She shakes it with a little firmness at the conclusion of her sentence.

“Good. Yes. Perfect, even. I promise,” you say with a little added sugar in your words. “Please just understand that my… relationship at home is anything but. She’s… so far gone from my mind I can’t even explain it to you. My number one priority is finding her somewhere else to live when we get home.”

She nods again. “That’s really none of my business, Jake.”

“Yes it is, Y/N. We’re friends now, remember?” you give her a sexy side smile, knowing that just having her in your life again would be enough, for now. “Thank you… for hearing me out.”

“Thank you for explaining. If only you’d have done that weeks ago…” she rolls her eyes playfully.

“I know, I know, shit,” you taunt, rising from the bed again. As she walks you to the door, you find yourself fighting off the urge to pull her in, still sobbing a little from earlier. You want to feel her touch again, feel her body against yours and kiss away the saltiness of her tears. But you can’t do that anymore.

When she opens the door and you approach the threshold, you turn back to her, letting your hand push a strand of fallen hair from her eye. “I still want you in my life, Y/N. You’re too good to let go, I don’t wanna let you go…You’ve still got me…” you say through a whisper, feeling boldness rising in your chest.

She smiles and leans her head into the touch of your hand, but she brushes it away quickly. “Go to bed, Jake.”

You give her one last knowing look, holding her stare for just a second too long, hoping that one last ditch effort to keep you on her mind would be enough to truly start things fresh.

Lord knows you’d do anything to get her back again.

—

HER POV

When morning comes it feels different. A weight has been lifted from your shoulders and the day doesn’t seem so daunting. You are glad that you and Jake finally talked things through, though you wish it would have happened weeks ago when you could have stopped all this from happening in the first place.

You quickly dress and pack your suitcase, knowing that van call is approaching quickly and that everyone will be assembling down in the lobby before you know it. You feel happy with your appearance as you make your way to the elevator, pushing the button and waiting as it climbs to your floor. As the doors spring open, you see none other than Murph waiting inside with his suitcase.

“Well good morning,” he smiles, motioning for you to join him inside.

“Good morning,” you answer, rolling your suitcase in behind you.

“Did you have a good evening?” he asks, adjusting his hat.

“It was alright,” you answer truthfully. “You excited to head to Manchester?”

“Think I’m more excited for Glasgow if I’m honest with you,” he smirks, pressing the button to close the doors.

“Can’t imagine why,” you wink, feeling the elevator start to move toward the lobby, singing the ‘Da da da da da’s’ of ‘Howlin’ For You’.

The doors spring open and you step out onto the cobblestone lobby floor, your suitcase bumping along behind you. As you turn the corner you see your group huddled up together talking quietly. They’re standing awkwardly, seeming more out of sorts than normal. It’s then you lay eyes on the auburn haired girl you studied in great detail just last night, as she stands hand in hand with Jake.

Isla.

In a tizzy of nerves, you turn to talk to Murph, only to find that he has walked away to meet with Dean and his own group. You’re alone and you have to face this. You swallow back your nerve and decide that you will walk over to the group with your head held high, ready to meet the girl Jake swore up and down he was done with.

As she stands beside him.

Holding his fucking hand.

“Y/N!” Paul shouts, grabbing your attention as he stands next to Ty. Everyone's heads turn to look at you, including Jake’s and you feel frozen in place. His face is solemn, with a hint of guilt hiding in his brown eyes.

You step up to the small circle of people, pretending that nothing is wrong, smiling and greeting everyone with a bright and bubbly smile. If you’re going to do anything, you’re going to make your first impression on Isla one that she won’t soon forget. Your eyes flick over to Ty who is silently telling you that you will definitely be talking later. Josh’s eyes meet yours next, sad and defeated as he stands next to her, showing his obvious feelings towards the situation you've found yourselves in.

Jake looks clearly burdened, like a lifeless shell standing there as his face is vacant of any loving emotion whatsoever. His movements are aimless, his posture slouched. And for a split second, you actually feel sorry for him.

Until you regain your clarity, opting to stay on the clueless side of this very obviously two-sided party.

The lying fucking son of a bitch.

“Oh hey, Y/N!” Lyla says cheerfully, “So glad we caught you, I just wanted to introduce you to someone. This is Isla, Jake’s girlfriend!”

Isla extends her hand to you, dropping Jake’s at his side. You can feel her laser sharp eyes digging through your skull, her glare almost enough to knock you over. Your eyes meet Jake’s, looking sad and withdrawn before you look back at Isla, and grasp her hand. “Hi, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

She shakes your hand weakly before dropping hers to her side, falling into Jake’s shoulder to stake her claim. His face goes stark white.

“I’m so glad to finally meet you,” she coos. “I have heard all about you.”

Join the Taglist Here

Taglist: @britney-gvf @gretavanmoon @sacredstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @farfromthehomelands @takenbythemadness @writingcold @builtbybrokenbells @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @fleet-of-fiction @milkgemini @gvfpal @ageofcj@dancingcarbon @highway-tuna @stardustjake @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @gvfmarge @gracev0609 @myleftsock @literal-dead-leaf @peaceloveunitygvf @ageofbajabule @slut4lando @jordie-gvf @sadiechar @tinydancer40 @rosabellagvf @capnjaket @lyndz2names @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavanomens @spark-my-nature @josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk @alwaysonthemend @danieljlmwagner @klarxtr @fortunatelytinybasement @demonrat444 @gretavansara @watchingover-hypegirl @hippievanfleet @digitalnomadz @raviolilegs @lipstickitty @hippievanfleet @klarxtr @strange-whorizons @do-it-jakey-baby @myownparadise96 @gvf-luna @starshine-wagner @cassiesgreta @joopsandjangs @whimsiliz @kiszkas-canvas

105 notes · View notes

misscammiedawn · 1 year ago

Text

Dissociative Identity Disorder in Mr. Robot

So I have been writing little essays about Mr. Robot recently.

Dom's Sexuality, Gay Marriage and Whiterose

Back to the Future and Brainwashing

Today I wish to talk about the DID representation in Mr. Robot.

Actually I want to talk about the DID representation in the Hulk comics but there are 40 years worth of storylines involving it and it would require me to write about clinical understandings from the 1980s when it was called MPD (admitedly Mr. Robot's stumbles at the finish line with some of these same outdated treatment models) and that would take a while. Suffice to say it will happen eventually*. I shall make a new tag "Media Myself and I" and post it under that when I have more time to do it justice. Maybe I'll do others. I am uncertain. I believe I want to focus on positive depictions where there are no murder alters. The goal is to get people to want to enjoy things, not to steer them away. I have a few shows and games in mind at the very least.

Regardless… Mr. Robot is an easier topic to cover and is my hyperfocus of the moment.

So Mr. Robot is a show about isolation in the modern world. It's a show about socioeconomic stress, late-stage capitalism and what it means to enact meaningful change on a broken world.

But above all it is about the healing journey of Elliot Alderson, a man with dissociative identity disorder.

I say that at the start because Elliot's condition is never named until the final episode. In many ways a realistic depiction of a real world disorder was an afterthought noted in the final hour of the journey as a means of justifying the split personality trope and hiding a final twist. In spite of that the roadmap for the show was always leading to this destination and along the way they managed to get some fairly good representation out of the mix.

Season 2 even involves the only time I have ever seen a piece of fiction depict "blending" on screen. Blending isn't a symptom listed in either DSM or ICD manuals. It is, however, something one would hear about if they had a conversation with someone who had DID. I have used that scene to depict what it feels like to my partners.

I'm getting ahead of myself.

I love Mr. Robot. It is currently my favorite show of all time. If you have never seen it then please give it a shot. This post will be spoiler heavy and I'd hate to rob anyone the opportunity to watch S4E7 and have a pure emotional reaction to it. The show is on Amazon Prime and the full box set is available for $35-50 depending on format and vendor.

Go with my blessing.

The first season of the show begins with Elliot Alderson (Rami Malek) living a double life. By day a cyber security expert and by night he spends his time at his computer hacking people's accounts and satisfying a "little itch in the back of his head" that guides him to uncover the murky facts about people. The first scene of the show has him take down a cafe owner who hosts an illegal and deeply unpleasant website. I have seen individuals walk away from the first episode thinking that the show is "Dexter but with computers" but it is more lulsec activism with a Fight Club aesthetic.

The show has 4 seasons and each season depicts a different stage of Elliot's healing journey and with it completely different rules and depictions of his condition. I'll break down each season for what they do right and what they do wrong.

Season 1: Discovery

Elliot's system in season one is undiscovered but he has overt symptoms, meaning he is unaware that he has any alters but he suffers from clean breaks in his consciousness and drastically altered behavior patterns both which are a detriment to the "hidden" nature of the condition.

Commonly most people do not discover their condition until their 30s. I was 37/38 when our therapist started guiding us towards accepting our condition.

DID manifests in childhood but it's a hidden illness that does its best to go undetected. The point of the condition is to remain hidden. The internet and the educational resources it offers are helping younger individuals to recognize their symptoms and advocate for themselves at an earlier age but the standard medical understanding is that most people are developed adults before they are diagnosed.

Published statistics for DID indicate the global population of those with the condition is about 1.5% (some organizations argue the number should be higher due to how difficult it is to receive an accurate diagnosis, but 1.5% is the most consistent figure) which is rare but not to the point of never encountering it. For comparison, according to a 2023 census 1.0% of people in the USA identify as transgender. There are no tested classifications for Covert vs Overt display of symptoms but it is widely agreed that an overwhelming majority of cases within the 1.5% are covert.

We learn that Elliot is desperately lonely, abuses morphine and has paranoid delusions about men in black stalking his every move. Whenever Elliot is on screen we can never be sure what is real and what isn't, so there are times when men wearing black suits are on screen and we cannot be sure if Elliot is paranoid or delusional.

The show takes place through his perspective after all and we are a character in the show.

See… the narrative device of the show involves Elliot speaking to "friend", us. The audience. "Hello, friend." is a common refrain spoken throughout the show. The narrative begins a short while after Elliot had a complete mental breakdown and smashed up a server room, he is seeing a court appointed therapist, is socially paralyzed to the point of which we see him linger outside a birthday party and retreat home to cry in loneliness.

The entire first season Mr. Robot is depicted as another character, akin to Tyler Durden, a wild revolutionary who wants to encrypt the data of the world's largest bank in order to seal the debt records and reset everything back to 0. He starts off appearing in scenes involving the men in black stalking Elliot to mingle him in with the paranoid delusions and eventually begins interacting with him in earnest. Though the reveal is treated as a twist 8 episodes into the show Elliot does accuse the audience of knowing the entire time and he refuses to speak to us for some time, even going as far as to keep secrets from us because he cannot trust us any longer.

It's at this point that I will note that media depictions of DID tend to lean heavily on the phrase "it's a visual medium" and depict ways that characters can see, interact with and communicate with alters/parts in a dramatic setting. Off the top of my head Hulk is about the only form of fiction I've seen where the temptation to do this doesn't take over and even then the old "other face in the mirror" trope shows up there.

So for what it's worth the paranoid thinking and hallucinations are not DID symptoms and typically a person with the condition cannot see or hear their alters. In fact a testing criteria included in the MID exam is to rule out schizophrenia by eliminating the possibility that the voices heard are external or that any hallucinations exist. In Mr. Robot they are likely caused by Elliot's morphine addiction, but he gets clean after season 1 and Mr. Robot is always there.

There are some plot elements which I want to talk about but they do spoil the final "twist" of the show. So I want to warn again that anyone in the process of watching should be warned we are getting into entire show spoiler territory.

The Elliot we see in the show is the result of the stress fueled breakdown that Mr. Alderson had 6 months prior to the show starting. The timeline is fuzzy in my head but there were two triggers which set him off and began his condition flaring up (and/or caused him to lean harder into his drug addiction which in turn fueled his condition). The one we know about is that he was locked in a server room and forced to work long into the night on an issue and the already upset and stressed Elliot snapped and had a black-out.

We come to learn that he has had these his whole life but this is the first time such an incident occurred that he couldn't self-justify what had happened. He smashed up a server room, something he felt himself not capable of.

But the second trigger is the more important one.

His sister, Darlene, moved to NYC and started visiting him.

The bigger and better twist of season 1 is that Elliot and Darlene are siblings. This is hidden from Elliot and the audience for the first 7 episodes and her presence is treated much like Marla Singer from Fight Club, of whom she likely contains some inspiration, where she keeps showing up in Elliot's apartment and acting overly familiar with him.

In the earliest episodes when we are learning about Elliot's lonely life he looks at a photograph of himself and his mother at Coney Island. Due to some hallucinations we know that Magda is an abusive mother and screamed at/hit Elliot a lot. We learn more about her in future episodes and she is a truly horrible parent. Likely more than was ever depicted in the show.

The photo is actually of the full Alderson family including Darlene and Edward but is not shown as such until the reveals that Darlene is Elliot's sister and Mr. Robot is modeled after Elliot's father. The photograph is a reference to Back to the Future.

But it also is a fairly good visual representation of self-filtering information, even when it is contradictory in nature. This is common not just in DID but in all forms of CPTSD.

Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder is a condition that develops during prolonged exposure to trauma and makes radical changes to the nervous system. CPTSD is considered a root of DID and it is universal for those diagnosed with DID to have a CPTSD diagnosis also.

One of the ways CPTSD symptoms manifest is "Emotional Avoidance". The nervous system is activated when triggers related to the trauma exist within the person's life. In order to function their brains push away these reminders and naturally avoid interacting with them. This causes those with the condition to become withdrawn, to isolate and to have distorted and often contradicting patterns of thought. For instance Elliot needs connection and safety that he associates with family but his family were his primary abusers and so he edits his memories to focus on positive associations such as a family trip to Coney Island that has become an obsession to him in adulthood. We later learn that Elliot's obsession with movies was born from it being his primary way of connecting with his father... which is fairly relatable.

His positive memories of his parents are held in high regard even though we know that his father "pushed him out of a window" and his mother used to put out cigarette butts on Darlene, tried to force her to commit animal cruelty and is often depicted in hallucinations as beating and screaming at Elliot.

In a case where it is impossible to avoid the traumatic trigger, for instance the return of relative who is a living reminder of his abusive childhood, the individual may begin to dissociate. Dissociation being where a person, overwhelmed by what they are experiencing has a separation from their normal state leading to a disconnect from emotions, sense of self and reality.

Episode 8 in particular contains a visual depiction of it when Elliot is having a quiet meltdown over finding out he has a 2 day deadline and his boss at work has known about the server exploit he installed all along.

(the show often uses the camera in ways to emphasize emotional walls, dissociation and isolation like this. This sequence does so by having hard cuts, shaky cam and frantic pace melt into a gliding slow lull where the background noise filters out and we can share in Elliot's distance from his situation for a moment)

Elliot's form of blocking out is extreme but has half a foot in reality (and half a foot in the logic born from the "twist" ending) in that in order to continue interacting with Darlene he views her as a member of Fsociety and edits out their connection until it is revealed in episode 7.

A small brilliancy about Fsociety is that the entire group is formed around Elliot and Darlene's need for childhood safety. The hacking elements of the show undoubtedly born from 9 year old Elliot spending time at Mr. Robot computer repair with a smile. The anon-mask that the show uses comes from an in-universe movie that Darlene and Elliot watched every Halloween and their base of operations is Coney Island. A place that both siblings seem to associate with safety and happiness...

Which is extra messed up when you factor Season 2's revelation that Darlene was kidnapped while on a family trip to Coney Island.

Darlene's panic attacks, need to feel special and her abusive upbringing are not the topic for this essay, but I wanted to make mention that Magda was such a horrible mother that a 4/5 year old Darlene thinks of being kidnapped from a family trip to Coney Island as one of her most precious childhood memories.

The desire to reach into the past and change things to create an ideal future is a heavy theme of the show and I feel it's important to note that though the Alderson siblings reject Whiterose and her scheme, they are both living in an almost literal fun house distortion of the few unambiguously GOOD childhood memories that they each have and have wrapped them around themselves like a protective blanket.

The plot of season 1 gets a lot more uncomfortable when you realize how much of Fsociety is two traumatized kids recreating positive elements of their childhood and trying to live inside of those memories while lashing out at those who took their father away from them. The entire plan is centered around events from 1995. The show takes place in 2015.

Mr. Robot himself is, of course, the ultimate symbol of that take on events.

Edward Alderson was a monster. He's referred to as such overtly in Elliot's detox fever dream. Everyone asks him who his "monster" is while handing him the key that we learn was to his childhood bedroom. A key that he hid to prevent Edward from entering his room late at night.

Yet throughout the first 3 seasons of the show we are only shown him in context of the positive memories that he and Elliot shared. Elliot was 9 years old when Edward passed away from leukemia.

At a point, Elliot is picked up from school. He has a bruise on his cheek and the scene begins with Edward asking "If I had to guess, you didn't tell Principal Howard your side.", assuring him it's okay to share his side of the story. Because Edward is convincing him to tell his side I am going to assume Elliot got into a fight but it's not impossible to assume that the school pulled Edward in to discuss the signs of physical abuse on the child. Edward would never tell Elliot to tell his side of that story so I assume it was a fight.

It's unclear if Mr. Robot is the one who participated in those fights (we only have 2 confirmed instances of Elliot's alters showing up in childhood. The window incident and the day Edward died) but Edward picks him up and protects him from his mother's wrath and bonds with him during that drive, he reveals his diagnosis to Elliot before inviting him to work with him at the computer repair store. Likely this is what leads to Elliot's hacker skills being born.

A hauntingly similar event in my own life is why I am a photographer.

Given that the majority of Season 1 has Elliot in the dark about his condition we are only given context as to why he is the way he is and see the display of dissociative symptoms which manifest from CPTSD. Mr. Robot existing at all is actually not required for this to be a good depiction of adults who grew up in abusive environments and the way they maladaptively cope.

I also want to give a little praise to the "itch at the back of [Elliot's] head" that shows up when he feels the desire to hack someone or dig deeper and the way he pushes forward with his own will until he calms down enough to let a creeping hesitation overcome him and prevent him from acting.

Passive Influence is part of DID. It's a situation where a "fronting" (that is to say part that is in control at a time) performs an unthinking action or is emotionally swayed by the influence of another part/alter that is not presently conscious. These are one of the biggest ways that the condition flies under the radar for many. When they are close to discovering proof of their condition they will often feel an unconscious push away from it. The phenomenon is fairly easily brushed aside internally as "a gut feeling" or an "impulse" but it's observable under the right conditions.

An instance I can think of in my own life is when our survival part is trying to push people away and our emotional part desperately tries to reach out. I will often find my hand grabbing a person's wrist and clinging tightly to it without even noticing that I've done it.

In the show Elliot is compelled by Mr. Robot when he feels someone is a danger or has a weakness that can be exploited. Part of him knows he needs to do something about it and so he lets himself be guided.

The season ends with The 5/9 Hack succeeding, all the financial data being encrypted and Elliot sent to prison for (minor) hacking charges.

He knows who Mr. Robot is now and he fears him as his enemy.

Season 2 (and the book): Exploration

The first 8 episodes of Season 2 are a filter for those watching the show, many drop off. Personally I love it but I can see why it's not for everyone. Season 2 is much slower than the first and Elliot is in prison for those 8 episodes. He's also imagining that prison is his mother's house.

That daydreaming coping mechanism is largely there to add a fairly unearned sense of mystery to a character development season and make things a little more visually interesting. For the most part I don't really want to focus too much on it or the way Elliot treats "us"/"friend".

The fact is that for this season Mr. Robot and Elliot are in direct conflict but they are feeling out their landscape and trying to find common ground. They are pulling in different directions but they are reacting and responding to one another. The show uses a chess match as a visual symbol of this and in such they are keeping one another in a constant state of check. They are opposed to one another but they are communicating and working things out.

So let's start by looking at the book. The book is a recreation of the in-universe journal that Elliot keeps while he is in prison. We see him writing in it during the show and the entire thing is available, it even includes little ARG elements to let you decode the messages Mr. Robot is receiving from The Dark Army.

The book is detailed like this and it's possible to note when Elliot's handwriting turns into Mr. Robot's handwriting. There are even points where there is "blended" handwriting. It's easy to spot in the above image because Mr. Robot writes with a heavy hand and in all caps where Elliot is soft and uses lower case, in the top line of the second page "you NeeD atteNtioN aNd aRe Willing to pay a lotta MoNey to get it." you can see Elliot slipping from one headspace to another while becoming upset at society.

Even still if you look above the FUCK SOCIETY image you see Elliot's calmer handwriting as clear and flowing.

When we were in denial of our condition we poured through journal after journal and chatlog after chatlog hunting for evidence to prove or disprove the theory.

It was when I looked at our old gaming journals (we took notes in pen/pencil live during TTRPG sessions because memory issues are gonna memory issues) that we noticed similar. Cursive used in some phrases, individual letters separate on another, the letters g and y getting curled at times and not at other times.

Subtler than what is displayed above but no less real.

Season 2 introduces us to Ray the warden brilliantly played by Craig Robinson. He empathizes with Elliot because he speaks to his dead wife as a means of coping with grief and assumes that Elliot is the same.

He offers Elliot guidance by asking him to play chess "against himself" and this leads to Elliot and Mr. Robot playing endless games of stalemate against one another with deletion on the line for the loser. It's the same brain and neither side wants to lose (nor do they truly want to win, Elliot admits as much in Season 3 that he likes having Mr. Robot and misses him when he's not around) and as noted above with passive influence, the games are always guided to end in a stalemate because no matter how opposed they are as forces, they both want the same things.

So... how about the Sitcom episode?

Elliot breaks his promise to Ray and looks at the website that he is tasked with doing tech support on. It's--- not good.

Ray uses a combination of crooked cops and convicted Neo-Nazis to have Elliot beaten into submission so he won't report what he saw. Elliot cannot handle this and has a mental break and wakes up in a 90s 4 camera sitcom world.

Alf is there. Because old episodes of Alf are playing in the medical ward at the time Elliot is being treated for his wounds.

The entire time he is taking a beating Mr. Robot is protecting Elliot by fronting and forcing him into an inner-world fantasy.

Okay... so Inner-Worlds.

In the show we actually had one of these in Season 1 during the detox trip but I want to talk about it now and round back and talk more in Season 4.

Inner-Worlds are a thing within DID treatment. Emphasis on the word treatment. It's one of the more commonly misunderstood things within discussion on the condition because it's regularly reported as part of the experiences within those who are diagnosed with DID but it's important to know that the existence of the diagnosis indicates the existence of treatment.

During any adapted 3 or 4 phase trauma treatment program that includes parts work, whether this be Internal Family Systems model which is used for individuals who do not have DID or system mapping and stabilization for those who do, the patient must work on creating a "meeting" space to visualize (or sense out emotionally for those with aphantasia) and much of the work of developing safety and structure within comes from filling that space with comforts and generating communication between parts.

I'll talk more on the "conference table" in Season 4.

It is possible for those not going through therapy to create one outside of the context of a therapeutic alliance but the creation of one is an intentional act. Not something that comes free with your childhood trauma.

Elliot's trip to the inner-world keeps him from experiencing any of the beating that the body is receiving and at the end Mr. Robot earnestly says he only wanted to take the punches for Elliot, nothing more. Elliot falls against him, tearful and whimpers out "Thank you" before we are given the flashback of the day Edward picked up 9 year old Elliot from school after the fight and confesses his leukemia.

For the record, my heart swells every time I see Mr. Robot acting as a protector.

So, let's talk S2E9 and the "blending" incident.

Blending is what happens when two parts/alters are co-conscious and are present enough that they are sharing control of the body. It's an uncomfortable experience. Co-Consciousness means that more than one part/alter is actively perceiving the world at any given time.

It's more complicated than binary yes/no. Every one of these experiences exists on a spectrum and no two people with the condition experience it quite the same way but there are levels of presence that one has.

The following is me talking more from anecdotes and personal experience than textbooks. I like to be clear when I'm not being academic because I do not want to spread misinformation in my arbitrary analysis of TV shows that will get 20 notes on Tumblr Dot Com.

Front is to be driving the body, to have your inner monologue playing (if you have one, most people do, but it's not a given) and have your emotions interact with the nervous system if you are grounded enough to feel your experiences. As I said, it's a spectrum. Everyone gets dissociated at times and can just go into auto-pilot or a trance. That all still counts as being in front.

To be conscious but not front is to exist in an emotionally reactive state. If Fronting is driving then co-consciousness is to be in the passenger seat.

It's truly difficult to describe and my therapist doesn't even fully comprehend it despite her being the one who educates me on these topics. Presently as I type this I can only feel one of our system (5 parts) active and "with" me right now. She's not speaking but she's reacting. I can feel her apprehension to us typing this much about our personal life, little flits of paranoid thinking that we'll get anon-hate or that people from our former life will see this and judge us. It's a presence and exists on a gradient. She's "awake" right now but I do not consider her fully "co-con" because if I asked her to tell me what she thinks about this sentence I can feel an emotional reaction (apprehension) but not a direct answer akin to "I think you should edit out references to our journal and focus on talking about the show" (which is what I imagine she would say right now). That's the spectrum.

Closer to the front a part/alter is the more direct communication happens.

There's also "asleep" and "dormant" when they are unresponsive. Pretty self explanatory. Elliot's system has 5 parts(plus "friend") and until Season 4 we only really see Mr. Robot and the main character version of Elliot. Magda and Young Elliot show up in hallucinations in Season 1 and Young Elliot is co-con in Season 4. Magda never shows up outside of emotional flashbacks and the inner-world.

So after Elliot and Mr. Robot combine forces (though Mr. Robot is still working with the Dark Army and is trying to move in secret) they have moments where they rapidly switch and cannot keep straight who is fronting at any given time.

There's a scene where Elliot is in another room thinking to "friend" when he hears an argument in the next room and realizes Mr. Robot is in the argument. As he walks in, Mr. Robot is surprised to see that Elliot is aware when he is fronting and he trails off and they switch.

Mr. Robot says that something feels off about how they are acting and that they feel like they're overheating.

A later scene depicts Elliot phasing out mid-conversation on the subway and picturing himself in the next car observing Mr. Robot talking to Cisco while a passenger plays erratic music on a keyboard.

That is such a horrifyingly accurate depiction of something we live with that I was stunned to see it on screen. I've included it in some of my stories that go over living with these experiences but the idea is when we are stressed out, can't keep our head straight and are blended like this we tend to have snippets of music playing over and over in our head. We also get what I refer to as "static" and that seems to be relatable in support groups.

A++ for the show depicting something about the DID experience that simply does not get spoken about outside of the spaces of people dealing with it. It was the moment I knew they actually spoke to people who experience this stuff and did proper research that wasn't just media depictions and medical textbooks.

The final part of Season 2's wild ride I want to talk about is the "lucid dreaming" bit.

Mind awake. Body asleep. Mind awake. Body asleep.

This again goes into Overt DID which I cannot comment on as much as covert depictions but the idea is that Elliot trains himself to remain awake when Mr. Robot takes over. We have seen from the blending experience that he is starting to remain when Mr. Robot is active and so he tries to force himself to stay when Mr. Robot is active.

In therapy this would be achieved through trust, communication and awareness. It's said in communities that systems tend to become more overt as they go through treatment as they are able to identify lines, parts can advocate for themselves and there's better understanding of what "self" means for every alter.

In my experience there's also an element of trying to pretend to be consistent and whole. We were coming out transgender when our therapist guided us towards DID diagnosis and there was a lot of tearing ourselves apart because we needed to act in a certain way for our safety and inability to do so put us at risk of being targeted. In accepting our system we have stopped trying to be the same individual and that has lead to a more overt presentation. As I tell my therapist "we need to act out our gender expression anyway. Every action we take is a performance."

That is to say, Mr. Robot has never attempted to maintain the illusion that he is Elliot Alderson (albeit he never identifies himself. He's even surprised to learn that Elliot calls him that) and Elliot doesn't even know he is "The Mastermind".

In opting to remain hidden and conscious he gains a greater degree of control and agency in his situation.

These things get easier as you learn your condition, build system trust and allow yourself to experience that which you feel comfortable experiencing. With the example of the beating earlier, Mr. Robot shut Elliot out and took the beating for him and Elliot resisted but ultimately did not want to be present. In this episode he learns that if he wishes he could have pushed through and been there and experienced everything, albeit as a passenger rather than the driver.

Therapy also teaches how to "go into the back room" to maintain stability. A technique that lets you volunteer to not be involved in a situation. My system all use this whenever I (Dawn) perform erotic intimacy of any kind. They cannot handle the thought of associating with those acts and prior to treatment it would emotionally disregulate our nervous system if parts that couldn't handle the concept were to be present during those moments because parts of me would be trying to dissociate while I am trying to act. It would either trigger a switch, cause blending or make a part shut down and become unresponsive for a large period of time- one of our partners actually discovered our system this way. She saw us shut down during a scene and realized it wasn't just a "mood swing" as we had insisted.

Elliot learns how to intentionally open up and be present when Mr. Robot is active and because Plot happens he is shot and decides to use this skill to close himself off and create a stronger divide between parts.

Season 3: Rejection

If Season 2 was the pair working things out on a chess match where they keep one another in check then Season 3 is after Elliot has tossed the board and decided to shut Mr. Robot out completely.

The arc words are "battling in our own voids", in Season 1 Mr. Robot was always aware of what Elliot was doing but Elliot was unaware of Mr. Robot's actions and in Season 2 they were fairly co-conscious to the point of overheating. Season 3 the connection is shut down. Mr. Robot has no concept of what Elliot is doing and Elliot no concept of what Mr. Robot is doing.

This goes back to the Overt/Covert thing mentioned at the start. It's a rare thing even within a rare disorder to have that level of amnesia barriers between parts and so I can't really comment on accuracy. It's a frustrating season for me in that regard because Season 2 was doing so well at depicting something that I have lived through that going back to Fight Club tropes was fairly disappointing to me.

Season 3 is great by the way. It's a debate on if 3 or 4 is the best but it's close enough that there is a debate.

The real meat of the discussion, spare for the events of the final episode where they reconcile, is in how other people treat them and talk about their condition.

Angela Moss is Elliot's childhood best friend and also lost a parent to the disaster that claimed Edward Alderson's life. She discovered Elliot's condition during his breakdown in S1E8 and was brainwashed by the show villain Whiterose in S2E11 (I have a write-up of the psychological principals at play with the brainwashing here).

In Season 3 she acts as Elliot/Mr. Robot's handler and is responsible for helping Mr. Robot continue his hacktivist terrorism without Elliot finding out. She betrays Elliot and exploits his condition. She also tells people about it without his knowledge or consent, which is pretty fucking monstrous in my eyes.

Don't out a person. Just don't do it.

When Mr. Robot asks how she can tell who she's talking to she responds "Your eyes. You're never trying to look away." which is accurate enough that I messaged my girlfriend to be sappy and grateful towards her as the first time she noticed our condition she told me it was our eyes.

From a 2022 IM chat, shared with permission:

"it's ... well, it's [...] your eyes soften, kind of, when going to Cammie. Dawn has this piercing gaze, like she's looking right into my heart and soul. Camden is just very alert, noticing so many things but not the level of piercing. Cammie... her gaze is softer. More focused, but in a ... drinking everything in, rather than seeking it out sort of way"

and added today when I asked for permission to share the quote:

"(for the record, Craig draws his eyebrows down in a particular way that makes his gaze intense in a good way)"

The show works as hard as it can to never let the audience wonder who they are seeing on screen at any time. Most scenes where Rami Malek is depicting Mr. Robot it is a brief perspective view to remind us what the other characters are seeing before switching back to Christian Slater playing the character. There are a few scenes which involve Rami playing the character for a full sequence. One is the context for a flashback where we see a scene Slater performed through another character's eyes where they see Malek.

The others usually involve us being in Darlene's perspective to highlight her unease and uncertainty of what is happening with her brother.

The only scene where it is ever treated as a surprise is when Darlene plants a bug on Elliot's computer while staying overnight and is roughly interrogated by "Elliot", only to realize midway through the conversation "Jesus. It's you".

The camera cuts back to reveal it has been Mr. Robot the entire scene. They avoid that trick throughout the show so it has large impact when it actually happens.

I feel like that scene (as well as the scene where Elliot wears the real Mr. Robot jacket and gives birth to the 2 Stage plan to take down Evil Corp) are important for reminding that no matter how differently Malek and Slater play their roles, to an outside observer they are the same person and when he acts "out of character" it could easily just be an emotional outburst.

Incidentally you can see the physicality of the acting if you go back and watch it again.

The end of the season has Elliot, betrayed, alone and terrified for the safety of his sister; finally reach out to Mr. Robot and open a dialogue.

He even goes out of his way to have this discussion on the Ferris Wheel at Coney Island both as a Season 1 callback and as a sign of trust. Elliot admits in this conversation that he missed Mr. Robot while he shut him out and wants him to be part of his life and in the season finale Mr. Robot says that he wants the two of them to keep talking.

Elliot also finds out that the window incident wasn't his dad pushing him out of a window. They jumped. Elliot asks in a kind and soft way to Mr. Robot, representing both his protector and an element of the loving father he wished he had, "did you know?"

Mr. Robot, the one who jumped. The one who wanted to protect Elliot from Edward says nothing. But he finally feels an alliance form with Elliot.

The road to healing finally has opened.

Season 4: Integration and Fusion

So let's address the elephant in the room right away. The show uses the word "real" to describe the Elliot who existed before the show started and considers him to be the only legitimate alter. There is enough wiggle room within the show to think that is in-universe ignorance but the show does nothing to prevent the fumble at the finish line.

I want to say upfront and before I start dissecting this season that outdated models of DID believed that there was a crack formed in a person's sense of self and that healing involved restoring the identity prior to the crack.

This is 100% UNTRUE and it upsets me that people once believed it. DID is formed in childhood during a time of a person's life (between ages 4-9) where the child is taking in data from their surroundings and integrating it into their socialized survival mechanics to form a personality. The child is working out what traits it can exhibit to receive nurture, care and protection from other humans and will adapt to those processes. Attachment Theory goes into greater detail about how this relates to the formation of psychological disorders, especially personality disorders.

For a traumatized child they will find that their environments do not offer consistent and reliable safety and thus they are unable to adapt to a version of their reality where they are able to maintain stable safety. This may be horrifying forms of physical, emotional and sexual abuse placed upon a child and is often depicted as such but it can also be a confused child trying to get affection from a cold and distant parent or having a parent who abuses alcohol and becomes inconsistent in their ability to give affection and care. Child psychology is a heavy and depressing field, sadly.

The result is that the child never forms a permanent sense of identity. This is a large factor in the formation of Borderline Personality Disorder and is why DID and BPD are so often thrown together within medical treatment and diagnosis. It's at the point of which when my therapist gave me our diagnosis she presented a clinical list of "myths" regarding DID and "BPD is the same thing as DID" was 5 on the list of 6.

The point of this detour is to say that there is no original self. A person who has DID never managed to form a stable sense of identity in childhood and thus they find themselves acting as chameleons in their day-to-day life, adapting to what they feel they need to become in order to receive the things they need from their surroundings. It's why there is a stigma in the BPD community over the concept of being "manipulative". In reality people with that condition are unconsciously adapting to their environment as a survival mechanism. With DID the added layer of dissociation is there to help the self function even when they are forced to interact with materials that are incompatible with their ability to function.

Pre-show Elliot was living a fairly comfortable life but his emotional needs were not met and at the time he was alienated from his sister. He was miserable and lived in a society that he felt was crumbling. His daydreaming gave birth to "The Mastermind" to remove the threats from his reality and Mr. Robot who had been there all along went into Protective Sicko Mode and decided to expedite the process in a way only a protector's morality could.

We'll get into system roles a little later.

The point is that day-to-day life Elliot (Janina Fisher's book "Healing the Fragmented Self" refers to the part untouched by trauma as the "going about daily life" part) is not Real. He is not The Original. Those terms do not exist and are meaningless in this space.

True/Real/Orignal-Elliot is as much a construct as Mr. Robot. He's a version of Elliot who does not have to think about the trauma, he can just live a happy normal life. The kind that Elliot speaks often and derisively about in Season 1.

With that out of the way, I'm going to ignore the bad use of language and talk only about what is depicted on the screen and not said out loud. Because if you remove the misconception about real/original from the mixture, this is a perfect depiction of final fusion model healing.

Season 4 introduces us to the conference table in the inner world. A conference table is a therapeutic technique used in trauma therapy where you bring the alters/parts to a conference. The idea is that it needs to be a neutral ground where everyone is comfortable and able to share their thoughts and ideas. With practice it can be a space one can close their eyes and imagine, seeing their system and allowing communication to happen between parts.

Mine is based on the Minerals Gallery in the Natural History Museum in London. I refer to it as The Library. You didn't need to know that but I didn't want to discuss this section without mentioning it.

Elliot's is the conference room in Evil Corp where he and Tyrell spoke in the first episode.

Interestingly enough there are only 4 seats in this set. I'm not sure what the implication is here as in the scene depicted above Magda (Persecutor Alter) is scolding Young Elliot (Child Alter) for sitting in a chair that isn't his. They mention all 3 alters who are not present (Elliot, Mr. Robot and The Other One).

My thought is that this is the show going all in on the idea that Elliot ("Real") is not an alter and does not take a seat at the table. Which I have issues with.

I'll note as I did with the inner-world that this is a therapy technique and not something Elliot would just have in his mind. It's an accurate depiction of DID treatment but Elliot isn't being treated for DID. Krista is no way near close enough to be able to help Elliot. She's wonderful and deserves the world and more for how she handles things in this season but she's in the pre-stabilization phase of therapy where she knows more than Elliot is willing to accept and needs to wait for him to come around.

Speaking of Krista. Episode 7 is the greatest hour of television rivaled only by Ozymandias from Breaking Bad and the M*A*S*H finale. At present it has a 9.9 on IMDB.

The episode is structured as a bottle episode in way of a 5 act play depicting the stages of grief. This is the episode where Elliot peels back to dissociative layers and understands the truth. The truth of what his father did.

I won't type it.

I don't need to.

The next episode involves Elliot seeing Young Elliot and following him to a museum exhibit with a model of Manhattan. In Season 1 when Elliot had his psychotic break after realizing Darlene is his sister Darlene and Angela checked this location stating it was a place he used to go in times of crisis.

It turns out when he was young Elliot hid the key to his bedroom here to prevent Edward from getting in. All these years later adult Elliot (or "The Mastermind" if you prefer, which I do not) discovers it and has a heart-to-heart with his younger self, screaming into the emptiness that he's sorry for not protecting him. Sorry for letting him get hurt.

The scene is lit in the golden hues that symbolize safety in this show. The final season also takes place during Christmas in New York so it gets to show off that color palette more often which is great for symbolism and aesthetic.

Young Elliot shows that the act of hiding the key from their father was protecting him. It was fighting back. Sometimes surviving is the best you can do and you need to forgive yourself for not being able to do more.

God I love this show so much.

That episode ends with the scene I most want to just overtly show off to an audience.

youtube

I already loved the show. The final episode may have broken my heart a little with its talk of "Real" but this scene? This scene gets it.

Prior to the above video clip Mr. Robot cautiously approaches and says "Hey, kiddo". Something he always says. It's who he is. Regardless of anything else he, Mr. Robot, is designed from the father Elliot wishes he had and when he hears Mr. Robot-- no Edward's voice he tenses up in terror, allowing the above scene to take place with Mr. Robot so scared that he has failed as a protector by allowing Elliot to remember and that he cannot be there for him any longer because of who he is based off of.

Those with the condition commonly create alters who are based on the traits of those in the child's life at the time the symptoms developed. I... have experience.

The lines I want to focus on the most are:

Mr Robot: If I could go back in time and change everything that happened to you... just make it all go away...

Elliot: Then I wouldn't be me... *He turns to finally look at Mr. Robot* ...and I wouldn't have you.

The final arc of the show is where the "Mastermind" twist takes center stage and Elliot enters his inner-world and finds out that he created a peaceful reality for "Real" Elliot to exist in so that he is unharmed by the horrors of the world that is crumbling in reality. Mr. Robot, as a protector, wanted to expedite the whole hack and destruction of capitalism in order to rescue "Real" Elliot from the inner-world prison. In time he came to accept "Mastermind" as a part of the whole and not a rogue alter who was endangering the body and their "Host".

S4E13 lays it all down. An imagined version of Krista speaks directly to Elliot and explains the system and their functions. Mr. Robot a father and protector who could prevent Elliot from intolerable situations. Magda, a persecutor who blamed Elliot for the abuse. Young Elliot, who Elliot could push the traumatic situations on, a common thing that many do unconsciously in CPTSD situations, dissociating from the person the trauma happened to, disconnecting until they are just another version of self.

Elliot then says "I guess she doesn't know about you." referring to us, the audience.

Krista(*) looks into the camera and addresses us directly, calling us the voyeurs who pretend we're not a part of it even though we have been here for it all. She even claims we are on her side in getting "Mastermind" to accept he is a constructed personality who was there to lash out at the society that caused him so much pain.

"You loved him so much you wanted to keep him safe, no matter the cost."

The episode ends with "Mastermind" Elliot waking up in a hospital and reuniting with Darlene only to realize that she has known the entire time that the person we have been following throughout the show wasn't her "real" brother.

...and god damn it I hate this element of the show so much.

I'll accept that they had very little time to clean things up and needed to get a way to have Mastermind agree to the fusion. I'll even demonize Darlene and say she was being selfish and ignorant in saying something hurtful because she missed the version of her brother that existed before Fsociety.

But Our version of Elliot says that he loves her and she doesn't reply. Her disappointment and resignation causes Our Elliot to go back inside and agree to the fusion.

The show ends in a first person perspective of Darlene seeing her "real" brother wake up and that's it. I'm glad we never actually see "Real" Elliot, that feels fitting.

Here's the thing about that last minute fumble though.

Let's talk about Integration and Fusion. They are different things.

Integration is when dissociative barriers come down. The system is stabilized to the point of which the alters are capable of communicating openly, sharing thoughts, memories and experiences and every part has the ability to opt in or out as life goes on.

"Functional Multiplicity" is what happens when a system is in harmony, no memories are being withheld and the system is able to go about everyday life with minimal disruption or disregulation. It is a valid goal for trauma therapy and there's a decent amount of medical stigma around it being used as the goal and not a step towards the goal. Many clinicians prioritize the appearance of normalcy over the function of the individual(s).

Fusion is when you go the extra step and take this communication and sharing of memory and experience and as you tore down the dissociative barriers you tear away the division between parts.

A system is made up of parts that make up a whole person and Fusion is the process of all parts uniting to "become" that whole person. It is a valid and normal goal for treatment. It shouldn't be held up as the only legitimate method of healing but it shouldn't be demonized for being an option. I say this because I have seen some people in support communities get real upset when the topic comes up.

The final sequence of the show, prior to Elliot opening his eyes, involves the system at the inner-world conference table agreeing to go through with it and walking towards a cinema screen. Elliot says this will only work if we go too.

The family (and audience) sit down in the movie theatre and memories flood onto the screen and pour out until all experiences and emotions are shared in one pool and Elliot Alderson opens his eyes with all 5(+audience) alters fused into one.

It was almost perfect if only Darlene hadn't have rejected the "not real" brother.

The cinema screen projecting memories, all the thoughts and experiences being shared as the Alderson System accept their parts in the whole and agree to the process? It was a beautiful visualization of a healing journey.

There are imperfect moments here and there. There are great moments I skipped over such as S3E8 (I'm not up for talking about Self-Deletion today) but all in all it's the best depiction of DID for a main character we'll likely get on TV. It's a whole and complete narrative and I love it so much. It makes me feel seen.

#dawn posting #mr robot #dissociative identity disorder #elliot alderson #did #plurality #domo arigato mr alderson #media myself and i #watch me post my trauma in public #Youtube #media essays

150 notes · View notes

kiyomitakada · 9 months ago

Text

Shawn Dunleavy stands before the white-haired boy with his hands clasped behind his back.

He's terrified, sure — Shawn's always terrified these days, what with the debtors — but more powerful than that is the crushing weight of relief. Finally. Finally, he's gotten through all the rounds of background checks and physical tests and puzzles. Finally, he's face to face with Near himself.

Do I have to kill him? he'd asked Mello.

No! Jesus. Mello had scowled. That's my job. You just stay there, play nice, and get me as much information as you can.

Okay, good, Shawn said. Because from your description, he kind of sounds like… a kid.

He's seventeen, Mello said huffily. And dangerous. Don't ever let your guard down.

Near certainly doesn't look seventeen. Shawn twists his fingers together. He's infiltrated plenty of departments before; he thinks he knows this structure already. America's best dogs of the state, running laps around some businessman who doesn't know jack about the real world. He'll be on his guard, sure, but he doesn't think Near will be the threat here.

"You've been accepted into the organization," Near tells him. "Congratulations."

"Thank you, sir."

"And as such, you'll be given a new name," Near says. "I'm sure Lidner has briefed you as much."

"Yes, sir." Conners had been renamed John McEnroe, for instance. Maybe Shawn would get a Henry? He'd been told that he looked Henry-like before.

"Hmm." Near tilts his head. "I think for you… What about Ill Ratt?"

What.

"I'm sorry?"

"We all need to make sacrifices in this battle," Near informs him, raising the arm of the robot figure he's holding in one hand. "I'm sure you won't mind, Mr. Ratt."

Oh god. Oh god, he's figured Shawn out already. What the fuck kind of name is a sick rat?

"Mr. Ratt?"

"Yes sir," Shawn manages weakly.

"Excellent," Near says. "Please, head down the hallway in that direction. We have an instructional video set up."

Shawn turns. In the corner of his eye, just for a split second, he's sure he sees Near smirk.

Oh, Mello's going to kill him.

[ @deathnotetober day 2: SPK ]

#HIS NAME MAKES ME CACKLE EVERY TIME. YEAH LETS NAME THE SPY ILL RATT #THIS POOR FUCKING MAN #death note #ill ratt #near #mello #deathnotetober

24 notes · View notes

000marie198 · 2 years ago

Text

There are way too many things to analyze in this scene!

First of all, I couldn't help but notice how Nine hid away his strengths and capabilities. He internally loves and enjoys a little gloating and all but when he senses it could have a consequence, he hides it away. The same way he tends to hide his tails! The same way he refuses to fly in front of others (the only times we've seen him fly is either in front of only Sonic or to save Sonic. And just once when they were escaping from the Egg Forcers back in Escape from New Yoke City. He remained cautious throughout afterwards to not fly in front of the Resistance again.) Anyways, here in the beginning of this scene, he hides away what he can do bcoz a part of him has figured out that letting Eggman learn anymore of his capabilities could lead to a consequence, he just doesn't know what it could be.

"You think I have vision and imagination?"

There is scepticism in his voice, not hope or confidence or smugness. He knows what he can do and he is trying to hide it.

.....

Secondly, using Nine's intellect against him in a tricky way. It seems Mr Dr Eggman - ugh, this name is a mouthful, I'll just refer to him as Eggman - it seems Eggman's skills lie much more in manipulation tactics than previously presumed. He's also using the fox's insecurities to hit him where it hurts.

......

Moving on to the third thing- Nine, when his deepest insecurities were being pointed out, we could see in his eyes that the words were having an effect on him. He's a traumatized kid still and just because he had learned to fight back doesn't mean he still can't get hurt. He did get hurt in this scene.

But then he blinked and instantly composed himself and smirked back. An act. Both a coping mechanism and a method to fight back. Hide your vulnerabilities, hide and pretend to be unaffected by what hurts you so the other wouldn't succeed, so the other wouldn't keep it up. Nine did just that. He diverted what was thrown at him and turned it around.

"I'm pathetic? You're the ones with unlimited power and all you can think to do is build a bigger robot."

A deflected strike back and criticism on the other instead of falling on defending himself cuz that would've both implied he felt insecure and would've revealed his capabilities. That was one psychological attack he dealt against, which indicates he might've suffered from it in his life before (no wonder he's so bitter about the city and its inhabitants).

.....

Moving on, he clearly has as much confidence in Sonic as Tails often does, like a brother, that's pretty sweet. He has full confidence and belief that the council can't beat Sonic and he feels both smug and happy about it. He's gotten attached to the hedgehog just as much.

Whatever his goals are, whatever his end motives will be, a part of him has genuinely accepted Sonic as his kin and did so long ago, right when he asked Sonic, "What else did we do?" It's clear from analysing his character in this scene that Nine never willingly shows any of his insecurities to anyone, much less vulnerabilities. He is never open with others but in that moment, he consciously made the decision to be vulnerable with the hedgehog, to let some hope and yearning take over him in that moment. He trusted Sonic. He still cares about the other just as much.

......

And finally, that one thing that happened to poor Tails in SA2 just happened to Nine. Even the reaction is the same! Tails accidentally revealed that Sonic had the fake Emerald, Nine accidentally revealed how to be on the same level as Sonic. And both times, Eggman manipulated his way through it to get confirmation from the fox. Which is both kinda regretful and funny. I like how they sneaked in that easter egg.

Also, the way he panicked and worried and blamed himself right afterwards he cares about his friend so much! Ufhevxjfjtjfjfjjgj

241 notes · View notes

bracketsoffear · 2 months ago

Text

Extinction Music Playlist

The full list of submissions for the Extinction Music bracket. Bold titles are ones which were accepted to appear in the bracket.

99 Luftballoons, NENA 1,000,000AD, Qbomb

After The Bombs, The Decemberists Air, Original Broadway Cast of Hair all the good girls go to hell, Billie Eilish Amused to Death, Roger Waters Annihilation, A Perfect Circle Answers, Nobuo Uematsu As The World Caves In, Matt Maltese At the Time of Writing, Midnight Oil

Biggering, The 88

Christmas at Ground Zero, Weird Al Yankovic Consequence of Sound, Regina Spektor Countdown's Begun, Ozzy Osbourne

Dark Doo Wop, MS MR Deep Blue, Arcade Fire Deuteronomy 2:10, The Mountain Goats Don't Feed the Plants, Little Shop of Horrors Donaukinder, Rammstein Doomsday, Globus

Earth, Sleeping At Last Every Planet We Reach is Dead, Gorillaz

Feed the Machine, Poor Man's Poison Fifteen Minutes, Mike Krol Fire Coming out of the Monkey's Head, Gorillaz First Light, STARSET Forest King, 3 Inches Of Blood Foundations of Decay, My Chemical Romance

Hammer to Fall, Queen Handlebars, Flobots Heat Abnormal, Iyowa ft. Adachi Rei Hope Rides Alone, The Protomen How Bad Can I Be?, The Lorax How Far We've Come, Matchbox 20

I Thought The Future Would Be Cooler, YACHT I'd Love To Change The World, Jetta In The Year 2525, Zager & Evans Into the Void, Black Sabbath It's the End of the World as We Know It, R.E.M.

Last Song, Jason Webley London Calling, The Clash

Mercy Mercy Me (The Ecology), Marvin Gaye Miami 2017 (Seen the Lights Go Out on Broadway), Billy Joel Minutes to Midnight, Midnight Oil Miracle Man, Bill Roper Mr. Roboto, Styx

New Normal, Jack Stauber No Control, Original Cast of Spongebob: The Musical Nothing but Flowers, Talking Heads Nuclear, Mike Oldfield

O Green World, Gorillaz Once and Future King, The Mechanisms

Planet X Marks the Spot, Dr. Steel Pollution, Tom Lehrer

Rät, Penelope Scott Reapers, Muse Return To The Sea, Nightwish Rise And Fall, Sophie Hunger Rising Seas, Midnight Oil Robots, Flight of the Conchords

Seed Song, The Mountain Goats So Long, Mom (A Song for World War III), Tom Lehrer Sole Survivor, Blue Öyster Cult Speed the Collapse, Metric Suburbia Overture / Greetings from Mary Bell Township! / (Vampire) Culture / Love Me, Normally, Will Wood

Talking Atom (Old Man Atom), Pete Seeger Technologic, Daft Punk The 2nd Law: Unsustainable, Muse The Call Came On The Radio, Mr Burns: A Post-Electric Play The City Must Survive, Piotr Musiał The Earth Died Screaming, Tom Waits The Final Countdown, Europe The Future's So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades, Timbuk 3 The Globalist, Muse The Machine, Blue Öyster Cult The New Restaurant, Malvinia Reynolds The Singularity, Dr. Steel Third Warning, Lobotomy Corporation Toxic Love, Tim Curry Tropicana, Gruppo Italiano Trouble in the Water, Common

Vamos a la Playa, Righeira

War of the Worlds, Jeff Wayne Wasteland, Atargatis Watershed, Vienna Teng We Are Fucking Fucked, Muse We Didn't Start the Fire, Billy Joel We Will All Go Together When We Go, Tony Goldmark cover, Tom Lehrer OG We're So Small, The Epoxies Welcome to the Internet, Bo Burnham What if Tomorrow Comes, Starkid When the Music's Over, The Doors World On Fire, Klergy

Your World Will Fail, Les Friction

Zookeeper, Seeming

#music of the fears #playlist #extinction poll

7 notes · View notes

dontsaynunca · 4 months ago

Text

AU FUTURIST

Year 3350 After the fourth technological war

Kord Industries:... Industry producing robots for transport and home assistance

Inside the Kord Industries laboratory, a brown-haired man sighed with exhaustion as he looked at the metallic body on a work table.

Ted: After years of work... You're finally back, little Jaime

The man smiled with tears in his eyes as he stroked the machine's faux fur cheek.

Soon a computer with the image of a beetle was activated.

Khaji-Da: Mr. Kord, I remind you that Subject 001's body cannot function without a motherboard, he needs it to connect his human brain to the machinery of the new body.

Ted: I know, I also know they are hard to get...

The man looked at the computer

Khaji-Da: It will also be especially difficult to find a motherboard advanced enough to work in conjunction with the subject's human brain.

Ted: I also know that there are only two AIs with that kind of technology... The first one is at Wayne Industries... And the second one is right here.

The man approached the computer to open its control panel.

Khaji-Da: Sir Kord, you know you won't be able to get me back if you do this, right, plus there's a chance young Reyes' brain will be damaged by my already used motherboard.

Ted: I know, but it doesn't matter as long as he comes back... I'm sorry Khaji, you were a great friend.

Khaji-Da: And you were my creator, I hope you know what you're doing Mr. Ko-...

The man ripped out the motherboard from the computer and approached to the metal body, to open a small gate where in a human a heart opened

Ted: You're going back Jaime, you're going back to your uncle Ted...

...........................................................

Palmera City, slums of the city

Central Street, House number 1940

Inside a single-story house, where there was only a kitchen-dining room, a living room and a bathroom. A 19-year-old boy was laughing as he sat at a table next to a blond man.

Barry: Bart, stop making noise or when Wally gets here he'll know we've been waiting for him, plus your Aunt Iris feels bad about working so hard at the bakery today.

Bart: I'm sorry aunt Iris!

The reddish brown laughed when he saw the woman move uncomfortably in the pile of blankets scattered on the floor.

Suddenly the door of the house was opened by a young red-haired man who looked tired, he seemed to be 24 years old.

Barry/Bart: SURPRISE! WELCOME BACK HOME!

The redhead jumped in fright and then screamed

Wally: WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THEM?!! THEY ALMOST SCARED ME TO DEATH!!

Bart: Don't exaggerate, bro.

Bart ran to the older one and hugged him.

Bart: Do you have my hologram?!! Do you have it?

The redhead nodded as he pulled a shiny metal bucket out of his backpack.

Barry laughed to caress the brown hair

Barry: Listen kid, if they don't accept you into the MRS, it's okay, there will be other opportunities.

Bart denied

Bart: Uncle Barry , I doubt it's every day that a school as prestigious as MRS accepts you to join its scholarship plan.

Barry: Good point, still, don't think we'll love you any less if you're not accepted.

Once Aunt Iris got up to go with them, Bart turned on the device, exploding with excitement (not literally), seeing a bald man in a suit in the hologram.

??: Greetings young lady, young man or young other, I am Lex Lutor, director of the prestigious Metropolis Robotics College. This hologram is your answer to the advanced test you took to enter our scholarship system... And I am personally proud to say...

Everyone looked expectantly at the bald guy.

Lex. Hologram: You have been accepted into our school, you are welcome to join our study program at the end of this year's vacation. This hologram will then be erased. And it will be replaced by one from the list of supplies that was recently updated just for the students of this new year.

Wally: Did you hear that, shorty? You'll come study with me! We'll both get scholarships, but what does it matter!

Bart: Hahaha! Yes! This is so crash!!

Barry: How nice Bart, now to celebrate this, it's already night but please... Do you think you can go to the convenience store nearby and get some sodas?! I'll treat you!

Iris: Barry, they cost more than we can-

Barry: I know, but the kids deserve it.

Iris: ... Well, you're right.

Bart: Fine!! Then I won't be long!

Barry: Back in a Flash!

Bart: That's a horrible joke!

He said to leave the house, once outside he took a breath and began to walk happily, in the distance he managed to see the enormous Kord building, his dream... He wanted to be an inventor in that place.

As Bart looked at the building, his face looked in amazement as smoke began to come out of one of the building's windows.

Bart: What the fu-?...

TO BE CONTINUED

#bluepulse #bart allen #jaime reyes #dc

11 notes · View notes

thelittlestspider · 9 months ago

Text

Let Me See You Stripped Down to the Bone

Summary: Matt has been going to a sex club for years in order to purge his demons, and as a brief respite from the outside world. It all changes when he accidentally runs into Peter working at the club.

Now they must figure out how to navigate their relationship while dealing with past trauma, and the pitfalls of vigilante life.

ch1.

chapter 2: fuck, i love him

cw: fantasy voyeurism, fantasy exhibitionism, unintentional orgasm denial, anal fingering, anal sex, riding, dirty talk, biting, oral sex, and hair pulling. mentioned pegging.

Peter's call doesn't come until 7pm the next day.

Matt frets most of the day, fearing Peter changed his mind. He snaps at some of his coworkers and feels bad about it. They whisper about Matt being in one of his moods and Matt tries not to be annoyed at them talking about him behind his back. He even apologizes to them, citing stress for the way he acted and that it wasn't an excuse. They graciously accept it. Though he knows in their mind they are probably wishing for the nice, reasonable Matt that has been missing for the past month.

The day passes by slowly. Matt checks his phone for messages between clients. His phone chirps, "Zero messages" in its mocking robotic voice. Matt wants to throw it against the wall.

Finally, blessedly, they close the office at five and Matt goes straight home. He thinks about going on patrol, but rationalizes to himself that he can have two days off just this once.

Matt strips off his work clothes and puts on a robe. It's one of the plusher ones he owns. He rubs the material against his face, enjoying the feeling of it.

He checks his phone again. Zero messages.

For lack of anything to do, he cleans his apartment. Then he works out in the gym. None of it soothes his mind.

Matt thinks of the night before. Of Peter's hands and his voice. The blissful release of months of tension. Peter's arms holding him. He goes to his bed and lays the robe down, then grabs lube from his bedside table. He squirts some onto his hand, lets it warm up, then wraps his hand around his cock, jerking himself leisurely.

He imagines Peter riding him at the club. Imagines the weight of the other patrons' eyes as they watch them together, the sultry moans and slick sounds of them touching themselves making him feel almost as hot as the man fucking him.

"You're being so good for me," fantasy Peter purrs, lightly scratching his nails down Matt's chest. "Giving it up so sweet while I fuck myself on your pretty cock."

He imagines the warm, heavy weight of him. The tickle of hair as he leans down to kiss him with petal soft lips. His calloused hands stroking Matt's face and gripping his hair as he tilts his face how he wants him. The hot, slick grip of his ass clenching up around his cock. Matt grips his cock tighter, fucking up into his grip, gasping, "Ah, ah, ah."

He's close to coming when Peter calls him.

"Peter, Peter, Peter," chirps his phone.

Matt pants, red and aching as he takes his hand off his cock. He accepts the call.

"Miss me?" asks Peter.

"Yeah," Matt says, trying not to sound aroused and failing.

"You sound pretty out of breath, Matt." He can hear the amusement in Peter's voice. "What were you up to?"

He debates lying. Saying he was working out, but instead he just says, "I was jerking off..." He sighs, defeated.

"To little 'ol me? Why I'm appalled, Mr. Murdock!" Peter cries in fake outrage. "And while I'm not there to get you off? A crime I say!"

Matt snickers.

"Was that a laugh I heard? Oh I love when you laugh!"

"You're good at that, you know."

Peter laughs in response.

"Y'know, I was calling to have a serious conversation about kinks and boundaries and stuff, but..."

Matt smiles. "I'll send you a list. But we can figure it out as we go."

"Alright." He hears the rustle of fabric as Peter strips, then the rustle of a blanket as he gets into bed. "Now about you jerking off..."

Matt sighs again to be dramatic.

"What were you thinking about?"

"You riding me," Matt reaches for his cock, giving it the same leisurely strokes as before. "While people watch at the club."

"I didn't peg you for an exhibitionist." He hears the slick sound of lube as Peter begins stroking himself. "You've always been so private. But I guess that's part of the appeal."

"I don't want them to touch me," Matt gasps. "Just you."

"I wouldn't let them, baby. Not unless you wanted them to." Peter sounds more breathless than a minute ago. "I'd be too jealous. Want you all to myself."

"I want that. I wanna be yours. Want you to bite me, bruise me. Make me smell like you."

Peter growls low in his throat and Matt strokes faster, moaning as he nears the peak.

"I want that. Want it so bad. I'll throw you down and ride you in front of some criminals, show them how bad you wanna give it up."

A moan tears itself from his throat, high and desperate as he comes.

"I need you," he moans. "Peter, please."

He hears Peter moan, then the sound of fabric ripping as he comes. Matt's brows draw together. Did he just--?

Peter pants on the other end of the line for a moment.

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

...

Peter slips through Matt's skylight ten minutes later, shouldering a backpack with some supplies for the night. He'd practically flown across Manhattan in his urgent need to see Matt.

Now I can take my time, he thinks, crawling along the ceiling to Matt's room. At the club he hadn't even been able to get naked or really feel Matt, which is a travesty in his opinion.

Memories of his cum streaking red cheeks and a plush, open mouth. The taste of himself on Matt's tongue...His cock twitches and begins to fill in anticipation. He picks up the pace, hoping he doesn't fuck up Matt's walls in his mad scramble to get to him. Blessedly, the door to his room comes into view, and Peter's breath picks up imagining what awaits him.

He opens the door and crawls through the doorway, slinking along the wall and over the ceiling until he's over the bed, staring in rapt attention at the man below him.

Matt lies on a plush bath robe he can't tell the color of in the dim light through the curtains. It's a dark shape spilling around Matt's pale form, framing him as he pants quietly, eyes closed, head back against the pillows as he pinches his nipples with one hand, stroking his cock achingly slow with the other. His thighs are spread and Peter can see the shadowed cleft of his ass.

Peter imagines spreading him open, eating him out until he's sobbing. Peter drops a hand down to rub his cock through his suit. A sharp canine shows as he bites his lip. He wants to eat Matt alive.

Matt's eyes open with an annoyed expression. He beckons Peter to him, mouthing, "Come here." Peter jumps down to land above Matt on hands and knees, bouncing them.

He kisses Matt, pulling him against him, running the tip of his tongue along the seam of his lips, asking for permission. One Matt happily grants. They moan into each other as their lips mesh, tongues slicking together in teasing strokes. He feels hungry for it in a way he hasn't felt in a long time.

Matt tries to pull away to say something and Peter lets him, smearing his mouth along a sharp jaw to kiss his neck. Matt gasps as he sucks at the skin, biting it gently, then soothing it with his tongue.

"Pete, naked," Matt gasps out, and Peter looks down at himself, realizing he's still wearing the suit. He pulls off Matt with a sheepish expression, hoping the webbing on his suit didn't irritate Matt's skin. (Though knowing his thing for texture, he may have been into it. He'd have to ask him about it later.)

He'd thrown the backpack in the corner without even thinking about it before they started making out, and hurriedly strips off his suit and stuffs it into the backpack. He unzips the section with his clean clothes to grab lube and condoms, then walks back to the bed, crawling over Matt again. He smiles down at him.

"I'm smiling at you, by the way."

Matt smiles back in response. Peter plays with a wayward curl, twirling it around his finger as he takes him in.

"I'm glad you came," Matt says, eyes and voice soft.

A joke immediately comes to mind, but he doesn't voice it. The atmosphere feels too fragile. Too tender for stupid jokes. He feels like one wrong move, or a careless word could bruise them.

They have so many bruises already.

"What do you want?" whispers Peter.

Matt kisses his cheek, then his lips. He rubs their noses together. Peter feels the wall around his heart soften and crumble a little. He hadn't thought Matt was capable of this kind of unguarded sweetness.

Most of his fantasies featured a Matt who was cocky. Strict with an expectation of being obeyed. Or bratty and demanding. A Matt who pushes until he sniffs out a weak point. A bruise to prod at until you snap at him. And he is those things. Peter loves his sharp corners. His biting words and his calculating demeanor. But he loves his softness, too. It's a trust he never thought Matt could have in him.

"Ride me?" asks Matt, still in his soft voice.

Peter loves that voice. He would record it and listen to it so he could fall asleep if Matt let him. It's higher than his Daredevil voice; soft and melodic, where his crime fighting voice is deeper, more menacing. A growl where his real voice purrs. It's a voice that says, "Don't fuck with me." He's had a lot of guilty fantasies about that voice. But this is the one he wants to hear when he wakes up in the morning.

Peter shoves that thought down into a cardboard box in his heart labeled "Matt" with all his other feelings. This isn't going to last. Matt is just lonely and happens to be sexually compatible with Peter. Soon he will find another person who is beautiful and put together and this will be a fond, distant memory. Then Peter will cry into a carton of ice cream and try dating apps again (even though it did nothing to help him after his divorce) and he will be Matt's good friend. Even if it hurts.

A calloused hand stroking his cheek pulls him away from his dark thoughts.

"You went away," Matt says.

He smiles, brittle.

"I do that sometimes."

Matt kisses him again, then rubs their stubbled cheeks together to make Peter laugh.

"Ugh, I need to shave," Peter laments, rubbing his cheek. Matt gets a funny look on his face. Like he wants to ask for something.

"Can you--?" Matt bites his lip. "Can you rub your face on my thighs before you shave?"

Peter drops his forehead against Matt's shoulder with a groan.

"I can do that. But I really, really want to eat you out. Like it's serious. My brain is a twenty-four seven porno about your ass right now."

"We can do that," Matt's face is almost as red as his hair.

"But first," Peter grabs the lube and condoms from where he dropped them. "You get to fuck me."

"I've had so many guilty thoughts about your ass," admits Matt, groping Peter's ass with both hands. His touch is worshipful. Peter snickers. "I'd lie awake next to my wife tearing my guts apart I wanted you so badly."

"Wow. I didn't know." Peter genuinely hadn't. Whenever he had crushes on people he told MJ pretty much immediately because he felt guilty. And when he spilled the beans about Matt she'd laughed because Foggy was her lawyer and Matt was his partner. To her it was like wanting to fuck the guy who did her taxes. But she was cool with it. Actually she was more than cool with it; she'd pegged Peter while they speculated about how Matt fucked.

So he'd had it better than Matt. In a sense. He'd still gotten divorced, but at least he had incredible sex while he did it. He and MJ are even still friendly. Though he suspects MJ has a secret paramour she's afraid to tell him about. For some reason. He feels a tap on his leg that brings him back to the present. Matt smirking as he trails a lube wet hand up Peter's leg.

Peter lifts up to give him access. Slender fingers cup his balls before rubbing two wet fingertips against his hole. Peter sighs. It's been a while since someone fucked him.

"Go easy on me, okay?" Peter groans as a finger slides in, stroking his walls. "It's been a while since I bottomed." Like years. The only thing he's had inside him are toys while jerking off. It's depressing. He likes being fucked. Loves the fullness of a cock stuffing him, fucking into him while he fucks back onto it. Hands grabbing his hips and his thighs while he bounces on someone's cock.

It's nice being with a guy who switches.

Matt curls his fingers into Peter's prostate and he braces a hand on his broad chest as he fucks himself on slender, calloused fingers.

"Oh, oh, ohhh Matty," moans Peter. He tilts his head back, eyes closed. His fingernails bite into Matt's chest, making him hiss. "C'mon, I'm ready. Need you to fuck me."

Matt pulls his fingers out of Peter's body to grip his hips while he sinks down on Matt's cock, letting out a groan of satisfaction as he bottoms out. Peter pants as he adjusts. He's glad Matt's dick is average instead of pornstar, because it really has been a long time.

"You feel so good," Matt murmurs, leaning up to kiss him. Peter kisses him back, glad for the distraction. He rocks back onto the cock inside him, circling his hips trying to find that spot and clenches down when he finds it. Matt thrusts up into him, moaning into his mouth.

"I missed this," Peter rakes his hands through Matt's hair, panting as Matt fucks him a little harder. "You feel so good inside me. Filling me up."

He wishes Matt could come inside him, but they haven't talked about it yet, so he pretends they're going at it bare. Imagines Matt's cum dripping out of him. He moans loud and desperate.

He's so close. But he needs to get Matt there too. Then he remembers Matt's fantasy from earlier. He leans in to whisper in Matt's ear.

"I bet they can see us in here," whispers Peter, nipping Matt's earlobe. Matt gasps, cock twitching. "Bet they love watching you touch yourself, knowing they can't get their hands on you. Touching themselves seeing me ride your pretty cock."

The headboard hits the wall as they move together, moans becoming more frantic as they near the peak. Peter scratches lines down Matt's chest as he bounces on his cock, wrapping his other hand around his own dripping prick. He strokes himself quick and tight, fucking into his fist and back onto Matt.

"Matty, please come for me," whimpers Peter, bounces slowing with exhaustion. "I wanna feel you come inside me."

Peter gasps as teeth bite his shoulder, Matt letting out a desperate moan as he comes, hips jerking as he rides it out.

"Good boy," whispers Peter. Matt whines at the praise, clutching Peter to him. He pants for a moment, then lays Peter down on the bed, pulling out. Peter pets his hair as he gets between Peter's thighs, swallowing his cock down until he chokes on it, making Peter's eyes roll as he moans around his aroused flesh. Two fingers slip into his used hole, fucking up into him. Making him moan as his hips jerk between the hot, wet mouth on his cock and the fingers pounding into him.

"Matty, I'm gonna come," gasps Peter, pulling on the red curls grasped in his hands, making Matt moan around him, tears running down his face. The sight of Matt's blissed out expression combined with the vibrations sends him over the edge with a little scream.

Peter goes limp. He takes deep breaths as he pets Matt's hair again, letting out an overwhelmed laugh as Matt pulls off his cock with a lingering suck and a parting lick to the head that makes his hips jerk.

"Ugh, you're gonna kill me," Peter laughs, breathlessly, pulling Matt up to him for a kiss. Matt looks smug as he settles half on top of Peter, tangling their legs together. Peter wraps his arms around his shoulders, nuzzling Matt's neck as he begins to purr contentedly. He feels Matt jump a little in surprise, then feels him hum in contentment, nuzzling him back.

The last thought Peter has before he falls asleep is, Fuck, I love him.

#let me see you stripped down to the bone tag

13 notes · View notes

karionice · 2 years ago

Text

The Only Hong

Pairing: ceo!Joshua Hong x secretary!female reader

This is connected to my villain DK one-shot which was lots of fun but much, much shorter. If you'd like, strap in for some world-building.

Word Count: ~ 9.7k

Genres/Warnings: eventual romance and fluff, sci-fi au, kinda dense, tech empire au, non-idol au, robots, mentions of other svt members, skz reference from my drafts, reference to death, joshua is gentle sexy as always, reader and Joshua are about the same age, joshua is an orphan, true neutral, reader probs has anxiety, "refuge cafes" = "Plaza system", first kiss, shua's shtick with water here too

Ceo world taglist: @fabulaee, @laaylaazyy

What a lonely man he must be, you thought to yourself. Everything about Joshua Hong's home was solemn and quiet, yet also very much alive.

In every direction there was some sort of robot - little ones floating about wiping windows, larger ones scooting about sweeping the floors, little screens on each door blinking at you as you walked by...There was even a slinkier robot swinging about the ceiling rafters dusting surfaces and changing lights. One of the sweepers gave you a little wave as you kept walking until you reached a large, open doorway of polished dark wood.

You stood there in the middle of the open doors and took in the gilded, floor length windows on the other side of a large study. It was a beautiful room within an already beautiful place, but you specifically observed the motionless silhouette of a tall and slim young man. He had his back turned to you with his hands clasped behind him, gazing out the window at the glowing city outside.

You didn't know whether to make a sound or not so you stayed standing in the doorway, fighting the urge to fidget. After a couple more quiet seconds, the man looked over his shoulder and gave you a small smile. He beckoned you to come over before turning to walk over to a large desk.

With each step you felt yourself tensing up so you got yourself to breathe as you watched Mr. Hong sit down in his very comfortable looking chair. Once you'd gotten close enough in front of his desk, you bowed and greeted him plainly.

"Good to see you again, Y/N L/N.” Mr. Hong regarded you, eyes astute. “From today forward, you will be my at-home secretary. Thank you again for accepting the position."

You simply nodded and bowed again, making Mr. Hong chuckle. "No need to be nervous, I only hope to make your time working for me both comfortable and manageable." He then stood and beckoned to you again.

"Welcome to my study,” Mr. Hong exclaimed, making a wide gesture with his arm. “That desk over there will be where you will spend most of your time working."

You followed him over and he proceeded to explain some of the more unfamiliar gadgets on your desk, all of which he'd invented himself. He made note of the subtle uptick in brightness in your expression when he showed you the task managing device he'd designed for you.

"And finally, that quaint little area on the other side of the room is the refreshments corner. All of the cabinets are labeled and the refrigerator is self-cleaning - a best-seller of mine, if you didn’t know. Who knew people enjoy saving time from looking for the source of distracting odors?”

Even though you could tell that he was trying to get you to crack a smile, you still felt too timid to really do so and simply nodded at him, not meeting his eyes. At that, he cocked his head and regarded you with another small smile.

“A few of my delivery rovers have already transported your things to your living quarters, which are a little ways past the main hallway. Allow me to show you the way.”

Your shoulders relaxed a little at the prospect of rest as Mr. Hong turned on his heel and gestured for you to follow. Rather than through the large doorway, he seemed to be leading you to a smaller double door on the side within a wall of bookshelves.

As you passed the refreshments corner, the coffee machine, also a robot, waved at you.

You paused in your tracks and blinked, causing Mr. Hong to turn around to see what was happening. When he saw you giving the coffee-bot a wave back, Mr. Hong laughed. You looked back at him wide-eyed and embarrassed, only for your eyes to grow wider as Mr. Hong walked up to the robot and gave it a pat on the head.

Did that robot just giggle? You noted the shine of curly embellished letters on the back of it that spelled Shubot.

“Come now,” Mr. Hong said, breaking you from your perplexion. “There will be plenty of time to become acquainted with the rest of my creations inhabiting this home later on.”

As the two of you continued to walk, you eventually came to be walking next to him rather than behind. You looked around, taking in the elegant mix of all things high-tech and what had clearly been there for generations.

"Hong Corporations has had many rebrandings and changes in development throughout the decades, but the fact that the oldest furniture and designs in this home are from two centuries ago doesn’t change. My ancestors wanted to build things that would last for a long time, but my grandfather was the one who decided to begin a legacy of creating to adapt to an ever-expanding world. Therefore our original property is far outside of the city. My grandfather relocated the business itself to the west side of here, Sector 17, and built it from the ground up, eventually raising my father here. And now for a very important question,” Mr. Hong stopped walking and raised his head.

The screen on the beautiful door you had stopped in front of displayed a waterfall effect to reveal letters - letters that spelled your name.

“Coffee or tea?” Mr. Hong smiled, looking at you.

You swore you could feel yourself blush as you said quietly, “I usually prefer neither.”

Mr. Hong’s smile grew wider as he snapped his fingers. Before you had the chance to soak in how perfectly straight his pearly teeth are, a delivery rover approached rapidly and prompted the door to open.

As you walked into your room, you watched as the rover extended its compartments to plop a robot you hadn’t seen before onto a small table in between the bathroom and what looked to be a vanity. You then jumped as Mr. Hong snapped his fingers again and the new robot whirred itself to life.

“This is Voira, a prototype for a new model of my water filtration and dispensing line. She can set the time when she will refill herself in a sink, or you can have her do it herself whenever empty, and she has a variety of options for the quality and temperature of drinking water. She will also retrieve one of your complimentary mugs from wherever it may be herself, unless you switch that feature off too. Currently I am still working on flavor fusion options, but hopefully with the data produced from you having her, it will be completed soon.”

You had to unhinge your jaw before looking up at Mr. Hong with shy gratitude. “Thank you so much, sir.”

“Oh please my dear, no need to be so formal. Call me Joshua.” At that, you simply bowed and turned away to hide your even deeper blush.

Joshua checked his Shu-watch and tapped the screen a few times before putting his hands behind his back and turning to exit. “I shall see you for dinner in two hours, which will be followed by your first set of tasks to complete for me. Please, however, get yourself accustomed at your own pace. If you need any assistance organizing your possessions or adjusting the settings of anything in your room, there is a companion Shubot on your desk that will gladly speak with you.”

After he left, closing the door behind him, you flopped down into a large cushioned chair by the vanity and took a good look around.

Your room was a sleek yet cozy little space, or at least little in comparison to what you’d seen so far. There were floor length windows here as well, with digital, remote-controlled blinds that you recognized as those of Hong Co.’s that could turn into a television screen. Your bed was a large loft over a simple glass desk, at which you noticed several charging stations for a variety of devices. Mirroring the bathroom, next to your bed was the entrance to a walk-in closet, where all of your things had been left in a neat pile by the rover-bots.

How on earth am I going to get myself together in two hours and still have energy to work tonight? You thought to yourself. You took a deep breath and got yourself up to settle in.

To start, you decided to ask Voira to bring you a cup of lukewarm water. You then started unpacking your clothing in the closet, only to be surprised by the clothes hangers- they unraveled themselves from the shape of hangers into robotic arms similar to the swinging cleaner bot you saw earlier and began hanging your clothes for you; pants, skirts, dresses, blouses, even belts and scarves. When you placed your shoes on the shelves labeled for them, the platforms above sprayed them with a sort of odor-eliminating disinfectant.

“...get yourself accustomed at your own pace,” you remembered Joshua’s voice in your head.

After getting over the shock of it all, you decided to do a little experiment. You noticed drawers that read “socks.” You took out an armful of your socks from a baggage and tossed them all into one. To your amazement, there were digital shifting platforms that paired up and organized your socks for you by length.

At this rate, I will be done unpacking in no time. It’s no wonder how the big CEOs who can afford to have their homes like this are able to be so productive, despite being humans.

“Now,” you thought aloud. “What’s the internet password?”

“Not to worry, Miss!” You heard a voice say from outside of the closet. You rushed out and saw the companion Shubot on your desk waving at you cheerfully. “Just place all of your electronics into the appropriate charging slots and I will get them connected to the internet right away!”

Your hands covered your mouth in silent glee as you hurried to follow the robot’s instructions. Once most everything had been put away, you noted how less than thirty minutes had passed. You got iced water from Voira and sat down at your desk again, you wanted to greet your desk companion properly.

“Hello, Miss! What can I do for you?”

You giggled at the thing and asked, “I just wanted to know, what should I call you?”

“You may call me whatever you’d like, Miss!”

“Please, call me Y/N. And er, may I call you…let’s see…” The little bot swayed in place patiently as you thought about what to possibly name it.

“Ani. May I call you Ani?”

“Of course!” You laughed as Ani gave a little spin. “Nice to meet you, Y/N! I’m excited to take care of ya!”

“Ani, I have some questions, if that’s okay?”

“Absolutely, ask away!”

“Why does Joshua only live with robots?”

Ani’s head quirked to the side. “I assume you don’t know the story of his parents?”

You shook your head. “I know about Joshua being an orphan but does he really not have anyone else?”

Ani shrugged, something you never thought you’d see a stiff little robot do. “I don’t contain any data on the topic of the Hong family outside of their names and important dates. There are other AIs here who do. But I am programmed to keep anything you tell me confidential, so don’t worry! I may not have much to say but you can talk to me anytime!”

You had never thought it possible to experience awkward silence with a robot but there you sat. “Well…I suppose I just don’t know where to start around here. I’m sort of hoping I'll wake up one day and realize things have picked up and I can just work. If, uhm, that makes any sense.”

Ani nodded. “Mhm! If it helps, one of your first tasks after dinner will be to organize your schedule for tomorrow! Joshua will send me a list and then you get to add whatever you want to in my hourly calendar!”

Checking the currently blank calendar, you weren’t surprised that you could add anything you wanted down to the minute, though you did wonder how much of it Joshua would see. “Ani, I have one more thing - Should I dress up for dinner?”

“Oh! The master has specifically requested you wear this…”

“...Ah.”

The uniform wasn’t tacky by any means, you just weren’t sure if it suited you. At least it was comfortable, and you liked that the skirt wasn’t too tight and left plenty of possibilities for layering.

When you arrived where Ani had indicated dinner would be, you stopped in your tracks in shock. Even though you knew that Joshua lived alone, you were expecting something more like a large or lavish dining room, maybe even with a chandelier. Instead you were greeted with a simple kitchen and living space, separated by a counter with tall seats.

Behind the seats was a small glass table and simple chairs with tied-on cushions, almost like what a grandmother long ago would have in their home. Even larger of a surprise, Joshua was in the process of taking off an apron.

When he turned around to give it to a nearby robot to put away, he saw where you were standing and smiled.

“Come, have a seat at the table. My Cara-bots will bring out dinner momentarily.”

As you sat down gingerly, a robot similar to Voira but with a retractable tray for a body hovered over and poured wine into Joshua’s glass. He then looked at you, lifting his glass in question.

“Oh! I don’t really drink…”

Without anything said, the Shubot hovered over to you and poured something amber colored into your glass. You looked up at Joshua, puzzled.

“Try it, Y/N.”

You took a tentative sip and was immediately wowed. It’s like the robot had read your mind - you’d been craving something at this consistency, and the taste…it seemed to be diluted fig syrup, strained of seeds.

A Shubot similar to the delivery rovers but smaller set out plates, chopsticks, and soy sauce. Another one followed with a tray of kimbap.

“My mother’s recipe,” Joshua said, a tad softly. “It’s one of the few dishes I always make myself.”

The two of you ate in silence for a bit. It’s not that you didn’t want to talk and the food was really delicious, you just felt a bit…awkward. Joshua, being considerate of your shrinking posture, didn’t try to make any small talk like he had earlier. You were hyper-aware of it, especially since the situation was too reminiscent of how the two of you had met.

You had just been let off of your last job in the upper-east side of the city, where some places were filing for bankruptcy due to a recent falling through in DK Tower, that part of Sector 17’s keystone, something about a security breach causing a leak of investment funds.

You ended up in one of the city’s “refuge cafes”, which are large plazas scattered across the south side of Sector 17 that offer temporary housing for people willing to work until they find security, usually from business owners that set up there, then after workers can find more permanent options.

Unlike where you used to work, all of the businesses in the refuge cafes used Shubots for everything. The whole system is owned by the south of the city’s keystone, who’s even more secretive than Joshua.

Joshua noticed you at the business you were taking refuge in while he was in the midst of a meeting one day. A rare occurance since it's said he usually never leaves home. He’d invited you to meet with him after your shift and in the midst of the awkward silence of that encounter, you were given a new job which was currently proving to be just as daunting but luxurious.

What finally broke the ice in the present moment was one of the helper robots; a Cara came floating over with another robot that looked similar to Ani on her tray.

“Hello Sunday,” Joshua smiled at the bot as it hopped off of the tray onto the table. “Is something the matter?”

The robot spoke in a much stuffier voice than Ani’s cheerful one. “The atmosphere within a 3-meter diameter of you is rather ‘chilly’. Would you like me to play fireplace sounds over a decibel of white noise?”

The five seconds of silence that followed was deafening until it was broken by an unbidden snort from you. You quickly brought your napkin up to hide your face as Joshua’s head snapped towards the sound. Another second after, Joshua broke into loud and enthusiastic laughter.

Seeing this, you felt your face finally break into the smile Joshua had been looking for all day as you joined in.

What made you laugh even more was how you saw that Sunday was still just standing there, patiently awaiting input. It seemed the suddenly happy atmosphere was affecting him though, as the robot’s face smiled a little more while swaying in place.

“It’s okay Sunday,” Joshua finally said, still wheezing slightly. “That won’t be necessary, but thank you. Let the other Caras know that it’s almost time to bring out dessert.”

Joshua turned back to you as you drank more of your fig drink, and upon seeing that your glass was past halfway gone, he waved his hand and a robot came swinging from the kitchen to refill it.

“Thank you,” you spoke less softly than before, still smiling. “I’m sorry I haven’t said much.”

“Oh my dear, you have done nothing wrong. Besides I should apologize, I forgot to let Sunday know not to have his 'automatic ambience' setting on earlier.”

“All of your creations have so much personality…how have you made that possible?”

“This city is as transparent as it is crowded,” Joshua spoke in a more professional voice, perking your interest. “All it took was programming a Bitty bot to fly around it and gather data on human interactions, giving me everything I needed.” He looked away, wiping his face with his napkin.

“Do any of your robots continue to collect data even after being purchased?”

Joshua raised an eyebrow at you. “Of course not, but I have no control over anyone who uses my devices for surveillance after it’s out of my hands. Only if, say, a separate company volunteers to gather data for me might I entertain the idea, but even so I am still capable of getting that information myself.”

“So if I said you couldn’t use data from how I use Voira to do anything, you wouldn’t?” You were trying so hard not to find your own comment funny.

“Haha! Sorry dear, but the matter of liabilities isn’t there yet. However if you really insisted, I could have Voira be tested elsewhere, but she's a prototype and still under my ownership.”

“There isn’t anything else in this place gathering data from my presence, is there?” You asked, for no reason in particular at this point.

“Just my eyes, of course,” Joshua winked at you. That sure made you quiet. As if to save you from how flustered you felt, the Cara-bot from before brought dessert. A welcome distraction.

Your first day of work was well-paced and quiet. So much in the house was already done by Shubots that most of your tasks were completed at your desk in the study, mainly brief correspondences through an earpiece that matched one Joshua wore, and filtering through messages. Pretty much anything Joshua preferred a human do, which was what you’d expected well before coming.

Joshua was good about making sure everything was doable along with efficient breaks and meals, all while keeping a pristine friendly attitude. You quickly felt your initial fear vanish.

Your second day was more or less the same, and you concluded it by having Ani help you with finding a television program to wind down with. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so…safe. Just being alive.

Your third day began with a very perplexing addition to your schedule. Joshua had the words “Field Trip, dress normally” written in the slot after breakfast, which was to be eaten with him.

You picked a comfortable dress you owned with a cute collar and layered with stockings, plus a pretty jacket. Wanting to maintain some professionalism, you detached your name tag from your uniform and fixed it to your jacket.

“Good morning, Y/N.” Joshua greeted you when you arrived. “I’m glad to see you growing accustomed to the place.”

You gave him a smile and bow. “Thank you for breakfast, Joshua.”

Before you sat down, Joshua walked up to you while reaching into his jacket’s inner pocket and pulled out a small object to show you.

It was a brooch, beautifully polished with a vintage crest decorated with opal. You noticed embossed words before Joshua read them aloud to you.

“Purposeful, Practical, and Peculiar. That has been my family motto since the very beginning. It’s why the company used to be named ‘Pianissimo’ before it was out with the old, but the rather silly motto still stands. You asked me how my robots are so expressive and I told you how but not why. The basis for such an intent has been passed down for generations, I wasn’t about to let it end with me.”

Joshua leaned in closer to you so suddenly you almost tripped, but he stopped just short so he could fasten the brooch in between the lapels of your collar.

“You look lovely today, Y/N. So I hope you don’t mind my ‘finishing touch.’ Please keep it, as a token of my gratitude.”

It was Joshua’s turn to blush as your face broke into the widest smile he’s seen from you yet.

He almost didn’t hear you thank him, the glow of your happy face made the lights illuminating it seem less bright in comparison making him step back in admiration. Joshua nodded in an attempt to hide his sheepish face as you both sat down to eat.

“So,” you began. “What is this ‘field trip’ that Ani told me about?”

Joshua raised an eyebrow at you as he took a sip of coffee. “You named your companion bot Annie?”

“Ah, yeah…I just thought he sounded like an ‘Ani’ to me,” you said, owning it softly.

“That’s really cute. Well, today I will be showing you the ‘Practical’ side of Hong Co. and give you a better idea of how my business is actually run. I know you have some degree of experience from your time at the Woozi Plaza but you will find that tech headquarters are a bit different.”

“Is it true that Hong Co. is just you and this tower?” You asked before taking another bite of your food.

“How could it not be true is the real question?”

You cocked your head at Joshua in confusion. He looked almost stunned. “My my, you must be the first person I’ve met who doesn’t know.”

“Well I always heard people talking in the plaza but I didn’t really…ingest much of it. I’m sorry…”

“There’s really no need to apologize, I promise to take my time telling you.”

He then placed his hand up to his earpiece, silent before nodding. “Mhm, thanks Sunday. And please have that package brought to the upper loft and unpacked.” Joshua looked back at you. “We’ll depart as soon as you’re finished eating.”

The center of Hong Tower was one long and sleek elevator, surrounded by a steel staircase to follow city safety regulations. Otherwise, as Joshua joked to you once you both stepped in, he wouldn’t even bother with the waste of material. You noted that this central elevator defaulted to being accessed by a biometric scan.

“My home is on the second floor through the sixth floor of this tower. My grandfather began with that and kept building up as the business grew. He had hopes that for generations to come, this building would continue to blossom from the roots he laid down. Our original estate would be a retirement place for each scion’s father to rest when we inherited the tower and well…” Joshua didn’t finish the thought as the elevator reached your destination.

When the doors opened, the most complex symphony of so many sounds hit you, and not one sounded human. When you stepped out onto a platform, you gasped at the hundreds of different kinds of robots performing so many tasks below where you were standing.

It was so fascinating how there weren’t any assembly lines or cuticles, it was just a lot of machines and holographic screens and the constant movement of work surfaces and…oh, a couple of them waved up at you. You and Joshua waved back at the same time. Then you looked at each other, causing you to giggle a bit.

“Every floor serves a general and unique purpose in the many aspects of how I have shaped the company. This is where stock is managed and maintained, receiving materials from above and below. Sunday is in charge of these factory floors, sending me any quirks for me to fix from the study. That used to be a more frequent process when I was still developing Sunday's AI,” Joshua chuckled. “But it has streamlined exponentially since I gave him the ability to control physical forms.”

Joshua led you back to the elevator where he showed you the next floors, “the flight lofts” as he called them. They were where everything from hoverbots to drones to transport pods were developed, managed by Joshua’s other AI program, Wednesday. Clever, you thought, that they were the floors that began to surpass the height of most other buildings in the city.

Since the tower was meant to always be built up, Joshua showed you that the second flight loft was the only place he had ever built sideways so that there could be hovercraft landing pads somewhere.

Your final destination for today’s little trip was a lounge floor almost completely surrounded in Joshua’s signature floor-length windows.

“This is the floor right above the last current factory floor, the upper loft. In his later years, my grandfather found that having a break location to end up in on maintenance check days was necessary. It would constantly change and rise since there could never be a penthouse, so my father inherited the idea as a tradition. It is currently of my own design.”

Joshua brought you to the other side of the lounge where instead of long couches, there were two armchairs. As you sat down in one, Joshua clapped his hands together, summoning a rover bot that placed down a round coffee table between you. A lone Cara-bot floated over with a ceramic tea set.

“I ordered the table yesterday, it’s what was in the package I had Sunday send up.”

You barely heard Joshua say that; you were too busy in awe of the view of the city.

Never in your life had you ever seen it from so high up - And goodness had you also never in your life smelled tea so good before.

Joshua laughed aloud at the face you made when you turned your head towards the teapot. “I like to keep my nicest tea leaves up here. I suppose I’ve always been waiting to share it. Let me pour you a cup.”

“Thank you, Joshua.” Your smile made Joshua blush a little again, and this time you shyly took notice. “I will be sure to savor it.”

You sat there for a bit in silence that was decorated by the sound of an electric fireplace nearby and the raindrops outside catching the neon glow of everything in Sector 17.

Despite the city always being rather dark, during the middle of the day like this it was just bright enough where you could see the towers of the other keystones. You could even see DK Tower in the far, far east, though the drizzle made it appear blurry.

“A great view, isn’t it? The City of Perpetual Dusk…” Joshua murmured, and you turned to look at him.

The look on his face was hard to read. You had a feeling that this was the most he ever truly lets himself relax, which was unnerving. His face when speaking to you was usually wise and cheerful, with rather watchful eyes.

At this moment, his whole form was none of those things, and it made him look a lot younger and smaller than you always picture him.

You watched him turn to look at you back and it wasn’t the motion that startled you, but the subtle diffusion of the glint in his eyes. In the time it took you to think of something to say, you wondered how exactly he saw you.

“If you’re always expanding up, what happens to the order of the floors below?”

“This company is constantly recycling itself,” Joshua answered simply, turning back. “We have a few floors of storage above and below ground, but I try not to have material come in too often. The average lifespan of a Shubot purchased in the city is rather short, so a certain percentage of them end up back here to be repurposed in one of the stock floors. Material left over from renovations and expansion goes back down to be repurposed.”

Practical indeed, you thought, sipping your tea.

You reached out to the Cara-bot still floating next to you and tried petting it the same way Joshua petted the coffee machine the other day, evoking a purr from the robot and a melodic chuckle from Joshua.

Two weeks later came a day where you were tasked with helping Joshua out with gadget orders that required more…personal attention than what was taken care of in the floors above.

You were in awe of how many big names appeared in the list Sunday gave you, a couple of whom you’d seen before at the refuge cafe. Though one unfamiliar name did catch your attention among the rest.

With a quirk of your eyebrow, you looked up at Joshua.

“A large order from one…Arthur Pendragon.”

To your surprise, Joshua cracked the most playful smirk as he chuckled. It caught you very much off guard, so much so in fact, that you felt your face warm up immediately, which only made his smirk wider.

“Ah, Seokmin…still ordering under a fake name after all these years. Well, what would he like this time?”

“Did you just say Seokmin? As in Lee-”

“Mhm, the city ‘bad boy’ as I’m sure even he calls himself.” Joshua interrupted gently, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t worry, he may abundantly misbehave but in reality, he can’t do anything outside of a certain perimeter. And while I’m not unfriendly with him, I always stay on my far side of the city.”

“Why do you do business with him then, anyways?” You asked as you showed Joshua your screen.

“Are you judging, dear?” Joshua raised an eyebrow, but he wasn’t fazed at all.

“Not really," you shrugged. "I just haven’t seen anything here that could be deemed, uhm, shady yet.”

Joshua didn’t answer at first, he glanced through the order before chuckling. “I never cease to be amazed at how funny Seokmin’s taste is. It’s like he doesn’t even notice that I know it’s him. No, it’s not truly shady. Reputation aside, he’s still one of the Sector’s keystones and I have worked too hard to be the only one without a single broken bridge to sour that now.”

Before he could continue, Sunday's bot hopped into view to relay a message. You just barely heard it say “Subject line ‘urgent’, from ‘Lee Jihoon.’ Would you like me to read it for you?”

Joshua’s face turned stony in an instant. “Send it to my watch, Sunday. I’ll return shortly.”

He turned to you with the complete opposite expression, startling you. “Apologies, Y/N. Process more orders to your best ability and we will continue our conversation over lunch.”

You nodded quickly as Joshua rose from his chair and left the study swiftly, holding his watch up to his mouth speaking in a hushed voice. A rover bot arrived to pick up Sunday and left too. Trying not to think on it too much, you returned to your desk and went back to your tasks.

About twenty minutes later, you looked at the time. There was still a bit until lunch, so you gave yourself a moment to breathe.

Where is this weird..feeling coming from…?

“Sunday?” You called out tentatively. You didn’t even know if it would work.

“Yes Miss Y/N, I’m here.”

You looked down at your custom task device. A wavy, holographic sphere that resembled a rising sun had emitted from the corner of your screen. This must be Sunday in program form.

“Oh wow, so I can talk to you?”

“But of course Miss, did the master not tell you?”

You decided not to answer that and hoped that said master wasn’t listening. “Sunday, I’m curious, how long has it been since another human has worked here?”

Sunday pulled up a simple visual with a series of dates. “Since the worker lifts were recycled, Miss. The building became fully automated then.”

But that’s after Joshua’s father passed… you thought to yourself.

“If you don’t have any more questions Miss, I have a reminder from the master to begin heading to the kitchen for lunch.”

“Thank you Sunday, let Joshua know what I’ve been able to wrap up.”

“Joshua,” you spoke, the moment the man in question came into view. He had just sat down and looked at you, eyebrows raised. “Will I be punished for using Sunday without permission?”

Joshua blinked hard. “‘Punished?’ My dear you haven’t been misbehaving, have you?”

It took you a second to realize he was making fun of you and you weren’t sure if you were amused or mortified. Joshua gave you another smirk, leaning you more towards mortified.

“No, you’re not in trouble. Even if it was violating a protocol, I never explicitly said you could or couldn’t talk to Sunday. If you ever do something protocol-violating around him or Wednesday, however, I would know immediately.” He regarded you with the same teasing look in his eyes as you sat down, clearly relishing in how it made you pout a bit.

“In truth Y/N, I had hoped in time I could tell you more and more, but I didn’t want to limit your parameters of interaction in the house. Though to see you can be such a daredevil, well, I’m honestly tempted to keep even more secrets.” You scoffed at the way he shone his teeth at you while putting an elbow on the table, chin up and in one hand.

“So I’m not your prisoner who will be buried with what I do end up being told?” Even with your sarcastic side-smile, you sounded just a tad more serious than you intended.

“My my Y/N, do rope in that imagination. I don’t dispose of people like lil’ Seokmin on the other side of town, nor do I encase anyone like his older brother. You’re free to come and leave however you like, we discussed as much in your contract.”

You were thankful for the food being laid out as Joshua spoke, offering you an excuse to not talk for a little.

You’d interacted with Joshua enough by now to know when he's purposely leaving out other implications to situations.

Some bites in, you finally began the expected topic at hand, letting the atmosphere grow serious.

“I was about fourteen when ‘the incident’ happened. Everyone around me talked about it for years. I was still in a District 9 facility at the time though, so most of what I know, I learned when I was sent here. I was first told that keystones are where what we need comes from, not really the CEOs yourselves. When I spent those two years at a refuge cafe though, I heard about how the huge Lee Family broke apart, all of the rumors surrounding your family, what District 9 really is…”

You had to pause for a minute there. Joshua, not taking his eyes off of you, waved for a bot to bring iced water. He nodded at you kindly when you looked up at him, as you swallowed heavily.

“There were so many people of varying levels of importance, talking in those bars every night as I worked. I heard about a lot of things that seem like they’d be underground, so I admit I’m rather afraid of what isn’t spoken about in broad daylight. But when you offered me this job, I decided that I would go in not assuming a thing. I’ve seen how it can destroy a person.”

Joshua was a good listener, his gaze was calm and revealed nothing of what he was thinking as you spoke about your life. When you were done, he finished his food before he decided to talk.

“Hong Co. is and has always been a family business. Even from the beginning it seemed that family businesses are always doomed to fail, and yet we were able to stay together through the decades. Er, mostly by trying not to have too many children. The Lees are a modern example of the third-generation curse that only grew worse over time. I grew up with the Lee brothers of Sector 17, though, so I don’t believe things would have turned out how they did if it wasn’t for, well,” Joshua didn’t need to finish that sentence.

“Know that you are not obligated to believe everything I say, though you are only hearing everything from me. When our parents were killed, Lee Jihoon and I had barely turned sixteen. Lee Seokmin came out of ‘the incident’ a completely different person, making any reparation plans they had impossible. He ran off to fulfill his own desires, which left Jihoon to take care of their youngest brother, Chan, who is now the regime’s most valued keystone. Jihoon designed the Plaza system not only to give Chan a larger and connected space to grow up in, but also to gather intel in the same way you've heard things; surface level. He particularly likes my Bitty bots for that. Many of the Lee cousins disappeared during ‘the incident’ so Jihoon has always tried to find them again.”

“Has he found any?” You asked through your hands, which had been covering your mouth for a while.

Joshua shook his head. “Every time Jihoon gets close to finding one, he gets sabotaged by Seok. I really couldn’t tell you why but it is the only thing I haven’t been able to help with. Seokmin may buy my home appliances but I have no way of hacking his own tech. He mastered stealth the best out of all of us.”

Your eyes widened at this. “Has he tried to infiltrate here before?”

“His ego is too big. Even if he did though, I mastered security the best. So I focus on keeping Jihoon from going completely insane, for now he hasn't gone farther than paranoid. His business serves as protection for the city, he sends most of the info he gathers to Chan’s side of the city where plans are made and executed. Chan was always the best with combat.”

At that moment, Joshua received a message on his watch. He let out a huff. “My apologies, Y/N, there’s been a change of schedule. I have to leave for a bit and won’t be able to have dinner with you. Continue with your afternoon tasks and I will see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you Joshua, see you tomorrow.”

For the rest of the day, you got to experience what Joshua’s home must have felt like for the past decade before you came.

It really was lonesome, even with AI to talk to. Well, more like especially with only the Shubots. No wonder they’d been programmed to be so...peculiar.

That night, dinner was brought to your bedroom with a note that said you would be allowed to sleep in tomorrow if you wanted, and to tell “Annie” when you wanted breakfast. Instead of thinking about how that meant you had no clue what Joshua was up to, you laughed at how funny it was that despite being the most organized human being to exist, he was actually not the best with names.

You thought about writing a letter to your old employer, but you weren’t sure what you could possibly send, to anyone really. Had she forgotten about you by now? All you really did back then was wait tables.

Then again, Joshua of all people had noticed you. Other than awkward, what was it like for him when you two first met? You didn’t even realize who he was until he offered you work for a place to stay.

What was frustrating you the most was that you also couldn’t think of why you were only wondering about it all now. Does it matter why now that you’re already here and know half of his life story?

After you had gotten ready for bed, you took out a keepsake box you hid in among your socks and opened it. Inside were your most precious possessions, many of which held little monetary value but they held the details of your past. The most recent addition was the Pianissimo brooch.

As you ran your fingers along the polished opal designs, you felt a small tear escape your left eye as you tried to ignore the unfamiliar sensation of what felt like a pinch in your heart.

The process of you and Joshua learning more about each other spread across the weeks. The distance between you had long become friendly and Joshua eventually programmed Sunday not to interrupt conversations with you for anything other than emergencies.

Years of only having robots and depressed business people to talk to must have piled on Joshua over time because now that he had another human around, you came to learn that Joshua wasn’t just strange but a rather silly person, too. He could be charming and watching him work was fascinating, as he constantly sketched ideas and swiped at so many holographic screens.

He was not only efficient but afforded the luxury to mess with you a bit too, in extremely high spirits. But still at the same time of maintaining an organized work environment. You pretending to feel offended by his antics only seemed to spur him on more.

Then when you asked him why none of his robots were human sized, he chuckled and said “That would be so creepy, I’d never sleep. Besides, it’s bad for business. A handful of people would splurge on something like that in one place, rather than a bunch returning every so often to buy something smaller.”

When you asked why he only ever wore suits, he said he was only choosing the “hottest attire” from a fashion company sponsor.

And when you asked Joshua why Voira was named that, he said “I think the touch of French can make even a water dispenser sound more appealing, don’t you?” and winked at you the same way he does whenever he catches you staring from across the study.

His casual flirting was what actually drove you crazy. It was almost like he wanted to keep you on your toes all of the time after you grew used to his surprisingly playful nature.

Afternoon tea time in the upper loft only happened on occasion, and it was the only time Joshua was anything but playful.

He looked somber, calculating, and a tiny bit tired as he surveyed the city outside of the windows. Only once did he allow himself to tell you of the burden he felt at times.

“Growing up, I was always the one Hong. In a world of Lees, I stand as the common ground.” And now just about everyone, good or villainous, rich or teeming; Shubots of all kinds are used by them in all walks of life.

For you, those days served as a reminder of the large world outside of everything you knew within Hong Co. You seldom left the tower to do anything, even though you knew how to take care of yourself in the crowded city due to your own background.

As you got to explore your new home, you came to realize just how much the estate was designed with the intention of housing a small family. You had no idea why the thought always came to you with a little flush to your face.

It was also during tea time that the little pinch in your chest would invade your heart more bit by bit as you got to know each of Joshua’s sides. It was hard for you to show more of yourself at times, so you appreciated the quiet days just as much as the ones with glee.

Before you knew it, you were watching light snow begin to fall outside as you sipped your tea.

Colder months meant new heating designs for Joshua to make, and according to Sunday, less conflicts between the Lee brothers to worry about.

“We basically hibernate until either Seok or Chan randomly gets up to something in Spring,” Joshua joked. “Even though I already stay out of the public eye as it is.”

“Was it always this way?” You asked, aiming to sound broad. Perhaps a month ago, Joshua wouldn’t have answered. But he spoke freely.

“My father was the least social of all of the men in my family. After my grandfather passed, he no longer had a reason to keep up appearances or go out at all, and then I and the other scions of the city were training up north. I never liked attending conferences with my father anyway, but then suddenly he was gone. I felt terrible letting all of the people he’d hired go, but they served as the foundation for Jihoon’s refuge cafes. And suddenly I had all of the space in the world to build back what I’d been left with. No one watching from the outside or the inside.”

“But no one at all except you,” You didn’t mean to say it out loud, but the look in Joshua’s eyes showed that it was something he always wanted someone to say but there never was anyone else.

“It was the only way I was able to continue my family’s work without sacrificing myself, but that didn’t make me hate it any less. I was never going to be ready to have people around again, though at some point I knew I would have to try. Avoiding how others have failed doesn’t delay your own failure.” When he said that aloud, you could tell that he’d mentally hit a wall. That was probably it for him today, or maybe a while.

You took a deep breath. “I’m glad you were able to try something new, Joshua. For the company, and for yourself.” You put your teacup down and smiled at him, allowing your arm to stretch out to him tentatively.

Maybe it was because he genuinely had no idea what else to say but his hand slowly reached yours. You could tell from Joshua’s flush that warmth was flooding through him, too.

It wasn’t just the first time the two of you touched, it was likely the first time he had touched anyone in a very long time.

Just as his fingers were beginning to wrap around yours, Sunday’s hologram suddenly appeared from Joshua’s watch in between you two, making you jump apart.

“What’s the emergency, Sunday?” Joshua smiled, though you noticed the watchfulness return to his eyes.

“Your heart rate has increased beyond 120 bpm in the past minute, would you like me to send for-”

“No, it's all fine!” Joshua interrupted a bit loudly, completely embarrassed. You doubled over laughing, only making Joshua grow redder.

“Your AI are great,” You said, wiping your eyes. “Maybe I should get a watch, too.”

Joshua scratched the back of his neck in relief that you weren’t judging. “That can be tended to now, let’s head back to the study.”

The next time the two of you touched was when Joshua was showing you how to put on a Shu-watch, since you’d never had anything like it before. He specifically touched one up so that Wednesday would primarily care for you, connected to Ani in your room.

“Now Wednesday can embarrass you too whenever she or Sunday wants,” Joshua said cheekily as he showed you some of the regular features.

The next time would be at dinner the next day, when Joshua would get a little more adventurous by pushing a lock of your hair behind your ear. Even though your legs were about to turn to jelly, you decided you couldn’t let him have all the fun.

“Wow some gentleman you are, boss,” you teased, bringing your hand up to your ears to poke his.

He caught on quickly though. “Oh forgive me, my lady,” Joshua gently took your hand before you could react. He bowed his head down to kiss it. “I was fatefully distracted.”

Forcing yourself not to faint, you met his eyes, hoping he couldn’t see right through you in that moment. “Well I suppose that makes sense since you haven’t wiped the crumbs from your face.”

Before Joshua could grab his napkin, you took your own and got up to wipe his mouth yourself.

The cocky grin on his face when you stepped back was what made you think that at this rate, you were going to physically fall for him before anything else.

The day you did faint wasn’t from a tussle with Joshua, but from dehydration.

The feeling that had built up within you was a source of stress you couldn’t stand after a while. You had finally acknowledged to yourself by then that you didn't want to leave at some point, as was agreed, even if you'd be sent off with everything you could ever need.

You realized that it wasn't what you wanted, and even if you could stay forever, your feelings for Joshua would be there too. For that you couldn't even look at Joshua, even though it wasn't truly his fault you were feeling this way about him.

Quite literally you couldn't stand it; as a distraction, you kept finding reasons to exit the study and poured yourself into tasks, ignoring alerts from your watch about your health. You knew it was wrong not taking the time to figure yourself out but whenever you tried, the feeling in your chest evolved further into a thorough ache.

When you started to feel dizzy one day, you tried to get up from your desk again for the nth time, only to stumble. Joshua noticed from his side of the study, but you shuffled away fast.

Wednesday showed at that moment that Shu-watches are (cleverly) programmed with certain overrides and beeped at you to either rest, or drink some water.

“That’s what I’m on my way to do,” you grumbled, trying to dismiss her.

“Miss Y/N, the nearest beverage machine is in the study, please pause your activity and-”

You hit the floor and vaguely registered the sound of Wednesday sending a message to Joshua about it.

When you were finally at a better state of consciousness, you found yourself in your bed with Voira next to you, holding out a cup of water. Sitting up, you saw Joshua sitting at your desk below.

He looked up at you, looking relieved that you were feeling better again.

“Wednesday, how are Y/N's vitals?” Joshua spoke into his watch.

“Back to normal,” You heard from your own watch. Joshua smiled and got up. To your slight horror, he climbed up halfway to your bed.

“How are you feeling otherwise?” Joshua asked you, his gorgeous face full of concern.

You looked away, still upset with yourself. “I’m sorry that I haven’t been taking care of myself lately.”

With a thoughtful “Hmm,” Joshua climbed all of the way up and sat right next to you, making you shrink away more.

“Are you afraid of me, Y/N?” That sure was one way to get you to look at him. Joshua's face was passive, but his eyes were filled with worry over what you might say.

“I...know that you’ve been avoiding me for a bit but I didn’t expect that you would ignore your watch. Poor Wednesday,” he added light-heartedly. Joshua waited patiently for your answer, fighting his own urge to physically reach out.

You let out a dispirited laugh at that. It was hard for you to find words, but you realized that this conversation was going to happen at some point, one way or another.

“I wouldn’t say that I’m afraid of you, Joshua…just of...the way I’ve been feeling lately. I am really grateful for everything you’ve done for me and you are a wonderful person to be around, but, well, I…”

You involuntarily reached for Joshua’s hand, and your back straightened at the feeling of his hand accepting yours. You suddenly felt so small but, for the first time, you were safe to say so.

“I’m afraid that I’ve been selfish,” you let out, mellow. “In all of this time I’ve spent around you I keep thinking about everything that makes me different and...unimportant...” You didn’t let him interrupt you there when you felt him shift.

“And I just…who am I to say that I…that…”

You felt him give your hand a little squeeze. Screw it.

“That I like you a lot? I really do care so much about you…you’re so kind to me and you intrigue me very much. I know that doesn’t mean I should feel this way at all, especially since the contract I’m under is temporary. I’m here to work, to help you, and that’s it. So I tried really hard not to think about it…”

You regretted it the moment you said it all, but it was only for a moment.

Because then Joshua used his other hand to cup your face, making you look at him, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“Y/N, I am the one who should be saying sorry to you. I think I’ve waited too long to tell you that I want you to extend your stay here. From the moment we met I knew that I would like you, so much that I couldn’t bear to watch you leave. I originally designed a new master bedroom just for you, but then I realized that I don’t just want you to stay, I want you by my side.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You were so stunned, Joshua looked away in fear that this time he had overstepped instead. So you leaned up to kiss his cheek, but given the height difference, it caused you to lose balance and Joshua turned quickly to catch you, and your faces were closer to each other than they ever have been, which at this point said a lot. Joshua swallowed nervously.

“Well, Y/N? Would you like to change your contract to one of marriage someday?”

You were sure at that moment most would have swooned or initiated a makeout session, but you instead laughed, giving Joshua the smile he himself had fallen for.

You had no idea where the confidence was coming from but you’d be lying if you said didn’t it come from Joshua, and just like him, you loved it. “Joshua Hong, you may be one of the most powerful people in the whole world but there really is so very much you do not know about women.”

Joshua blushed immediately, but he held his ground just as hard as he was holding onto you. “As long as it’s you, I will do whatever I can to learn. I want you here, Y/N, truly. You're family now.”

Family. Something both of you had lived so long without.

“Well call me old-fashioned but aren’t you supposed to date me first?” you both laughed and Joshua poked your nose, making you gasp incredulously.

“Darling, I’m the old-fashioned one here who was planning to take this slow, but then you fell face first before the ‘talking phase’ could even turn into seeing movies~”

The two of you kept the banter and jostling up until you breathlessly grew quiet again.

“That’s why,” Joshua spoke out of the blue.

“What?” You looked at him, and he brought his hand up to your face again.

“Talking with you, laughing with you, seeing you prove that I really am here, with you." Joshua stroked your face so lovingly you could cry.

"For so long I was alone...It was a harsh reality I never wanted to face, but no matter which way I turned it was the truth. Bringing you into my life was the most frightening thing I have ever done, but it remains the one decision I am most sure of. You make me feel like I am worth everything, and now I rest every night knowing I will see your beautiful face the next day. If you accept my offer of making permanence of this, I promise I will always be here for you, too.”

Well indeed right there you did cry. You were so choked up as he wiped your face, trying not to cry himself, that the only way you could respond to him sincerely was by closing the final bit of physical distance between you two.

You could faintly hear the sound of hundreds of the tower's Shubots in a 30 meter radius clapping and cheering as Joshua returned the kiss with passion, holding you close with both arms, your hearts pounding.

Sharing your first ever kiss only marked a pivotal point in the feelings you had begun sharing long before, which would only continue on to fill every desolate corner that could ever appear in this limitless home of yours, and everything you would continue to work for together.

a/n: "And that, kids, is how I met your mother"

Time for a trip to my dentist because my stars writing that might’ve made a hole in my sweet tooth awwwww 💕;w; At a point in this fic I realized I was expanding the world a little too much so I left out the details of “the incident” the reader and Joshua mentions to try and close a love story nicely. For you all that have reached the end of this amalgamation of my late-night writing, a year in the making, thank you so much and I do hope you’ve enjoyed this fic as much as I had writing it!

#joshua hong x reader #svt x reader #futuristic au #scifi au #ceo joshua #hong jisoo x reader #joshua hong fluff #seventeen joshua #joshua hong x you #tech empire au #sector 17 #cyber au

97 notes · View notes