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bigwhispersbluebird · 3 years

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BTS reaction when they are jealous (Hyung Line)

Author’s Note: I often read a lot of reaction based fics and realize that perhaps my take on it is a little different. So here it goes. Do tell me if you like it or agree or just anything. Also, I am new to this so excuse me for any mistakes. Thanksss

Warnings: None

Seokjin or Jin

He watched from far as a man in his 20s approached you from behind as you finished the call you had excused yourself to attend. Judging from your reaction, he concluded that you knew the guy. Even though he couldn’t hear a word, your comfortable laugh, the way you slightly hit his shoulder while talking and mimicked his body language, Jin felt a weird irk inside him.

Don’t misunderstand, Kim Seokjin was very confident about himself but there was a part of him that often wondered if he was enough. He might be handsome but there were more handsome people around. He was not the smartest or the most athletic and he came with a load of baggage. So much that he couldn’t cross the room to where you were standing and openly declare that you were his gorgeous and brilliant girlfriend.

His thoughts were intruded by the chime of his phone.

“You okay?”, your text read and he looked up to spot you a few tables away. The young stranger gone now and your eyes only on him.

“No. I am Jin”, he replied in his usual manner, trying to hide the truth, cracking the worst joke ever in the process and wincing at himself as soon as he sent it.

He watched as you laughed unabashedly as soon as you saw the screen, your eyes glistening and he realized that this laugh was just for him.

“You must be really in love with me if you laughed at that”, he sent and watched as you read and suddenly the same look overtook your face that he had seen on himself so many times when he was with you.

He only took his eyes off you when his phone chimed again.

“Of course. Who else would ever compare?”

Yoongi or Suga

This was getting annoying for him. Yoongi would call himself a pretty calm person especially after the ten years of life as an artist had made him immune to almost everything happening around him. But this was getting on his nerves.

You had walked into HYBE tonight and after just being at Genius Lab for a few minutes, you had asked about Do-Yan and went to seek him as soon as Yoongi told you that he must be in PDogg’s studio. Had it been a one time occurrence, Yoongi wouldn’t even have cared enough to think much into it but after this becoming a routine, he was over it.

Do-Yan was a talented young producer who was contracted for TXT’s new album. You were heavily involved in the A&R activities of BigHit Music and were actually the person who had discovered Do-Yan. In your perspective, he could be a great asset and while he was just here on a temporary basis, you wished to persuade him to sign him as a BigHit producer permanently. PDogg had agreed with you and now you both were on the task of convincing him to stay.

Unaware of this all, Yoongi decided to do something about the situation. As he typed the messages to the management team, he knew that this was very petty of him but he was beyond the point of caring right now.

The next time you asked him about Do-Yan, Yoongi did not look up from his computer as he said, “He has been moved”.

“What?”, you were shocked to say the least. “Moved? What do you mean moved?”

“He will be working with Bang PD directly now so he will be in the other building.”

“So, he signed the contract?”

Now Yoongi was getting agitated, “Why do you care so much?”, he had turned his seat around and was now only focusing on you. His tone was still calm but inside he was screaming.

Oblivious to the storm inside him you said, “Why wouldn’t I? He must have else he would not have said yes to that since...”, Yoongi was not even listening anymore.

“He did. I talked to the management myself and got him to say yes”, Yoongi said. His voice low and his back now turned to you. “You can move there as well if you want to see him and care about him so much”.

“You...but you didn’t know”, suddenly all the pieces fell into place in your mind and you scolded yourself mentally for not noticing it yourself.

“Yoongi”, you called out to him softly as you moved closer to his chair. “Jagiya”, you called again as you kneeled beside his chair, taking his hand lightly in yours.

“I just wanted him to join the company so I was spending most of my time on that. I am sorry that I did not clear it to you. I’ll make up for all the lost time now that you’ve got it done”.

Yoongi couldn’t even remember what he was angry about as you placed yourself on his lap, pulling him close to leave a gentle kiss on his lips.

After a while your phone rang and you announced that you had to go for a meeting. As you inched closer to the door, you remembered something and without even turning around you said:

“I can’t believe you got him moved”

You closed the door behind you but not before hearing his low chuckle.

Hoseok or J-Hope or Hobi

“I think Yeonjun and I should perform on something more sexy?”, you said with your eyes fixated on his face waiting for a reaction.

His eyebrows furrowed and then as if thinking about it, he immediately turned to you, nodding, “Yes, I think it will work great with both of your stage personalities”.

You were surprised. This was not the answer that you were expecting. You had hoped that he would get jealous like all those TikTok boyfriends.

But you were not going to be dejected so easily.

“Why don’t you help with the choreography?”, you suggested, a plan already forming in your head.

“Y/N, I would have been offended had you not asked me”, he said as he showed off his gorgeous smile.

After a few days when you three started working on the performance, you tried to make Hobi jealous. You would suggest even more suggestive moves but he would just think about them and excitedly agree to them or politely decline saying how it does not fit with the steps.

He would watch as you danced, concentrated and focused, but unwavering.

After weeks of this charade, you grew tired and when Yeonjun excused himself to leave for a music show you exasperatedly sighed in front of Hobi who was monitoring the recently shot dance practice video of yours.

“I don’t think you even care about me”.

“Huh?!”, Hobi was bewildered. “What?!”

“Yeah, you don’t care if I go throw myself in someone else’s arms”, your voice was loud in the empty dance studio. You lowered it again, “you don’t care”.

“Y/N”, Hobi was now closer to you, looking straight into your eyes. “I care. I care a lot. I care that this performance is amazing because this is a great opportunity for you. I care that your steps show exactly how good of a dancer you are. I care and that is why I would never let anybody else do it instead of me”.

You were surprised. This was not what you were looking for but it was a pleasant difference.

“And I would care if it was not a performance. I would, I do care if anyone even looks at you in the wrong way but I would never take it out on you. I want you to be able to perform without worrying what I would take it as. I want you to be loved by everyone in the audience”.

His arms slowly snaked around your waist and under your sweatshirt, “just not the way that I do”.

Namjoon or RM

Namjoon had watched you the entire night, his eyes refusing to leave your figure as you rushed around the venue making sure everything was perfect.

It was the last concert of the tour and you as the tour manager were adamant on making it memorable and smooth. Double-checking everything, you finally allowed yourself a moment of peace as you saw your boyfriend rehearse his performance for Trivia: Love.

Namjoon locked eyes with you, smiling and rapping his lines as if talking to you. Suddenly, you felt the weight of something on your shoulders and you looked away from the stage realizing that it was your assistant, Alan, who had just covered you with his jacket. You smiled gratefully as he extended a hand holding your coffee.

“You should rest for a while before we meet back for sound check”, he suggested and you looked at your watch to see that he was right. Tonight was going to be hectic and a power nap was definitely needed.

You had not even realized that the stage was now empty and the leader was standing right by your side. His eyes were not on you, but on the man now sitting beside you, glancing at his jacket on your shoulders.

Shrugging the jacket off, you asked, “Are you done? Any issues?”.

Not answering your question, Namjoon kept staring at Alan and you felt bad for the poor guy. You asked again and this time Namjoon’s lips turned into a smile, “None, jagiya”. Jagiya?!

Now you were the one staring daggers at him but he did not waver. Instead, with the same smile plastered on his lips, he took off his jacket and placed it on your shoulders, pulling the zipper closer together as he made his way to where Alan was sitting. Alan immediately got up, excusing himself and vacating the seat that now your boyfriend occupied, his hand reaching across your shoulder to pull you into him.

You resisted.

“ ‘Jagiya’. Really?! Really, Namjoon?”

He just smiled at that, genuinely this time. “Come on, you know I lose all calm when it comes to you”.

“Calm and senses, both”, you murmured as he laughed and pulled you closer and you let him, closing your eyes and resting before work would call you again.

#bts #bts reactions #jin #seokjin #yoongi #suga #namjoon #rm #hoseok #hobi #jhope #bangtan #fluff #jealous #reader #kim namjoon #min yoongi #kim seokjin #jung hoseok

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rosesdrabbleblog · 3 years

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I’m Having Sex With A Ghost

Pairing: Ghostbur x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, cursing, 18+ content, wholesomeness?

Notes: Ghostbur my beloved, how is this the first time I write for you? Sex With a Ghost fits his vibes a lot and I just had to use it.

You were sitting in your armchair reading one of your various novels when you heard a rapping at your door. You set the book down on your table gently before walking to the door, opening it. You were a little shocked when you were greeted by Ghostbur, the sweet ghost man who wandered the streets of L’Manburg. While you hadn’t known him when he was alive, you were almost glad from stories you had heard.

You had moved to L’Manburg shortly after the country had been nearly blown up. “It was Wilbur” various residents had told you, “he went mad and blew it up.” You never heard of him before this, which is why you were confused when people regarded Ghostbur as a friend and sort of ally. When you asked why they did if he was the same person, they would either shrug it off or state that they were different people. The whole thing confused you greatly.

You first introduction to Ghostbur was when you saw him struggling to lead a blue sheep around. You went over to offer your help before realizing you could see through the man. Startled, you had backed away and tripped on something, falling onto the ground with a pained cry. The man whipped around at the sound, looking at you with worry. “Oh dear, are you alright?” he asked, his eyes wide. Still in a bit of shock, you nodded and got up slowly, regarding the site in front of you.

From his transparency, you assumed he had to be a ghost. Despite this, you could see his features clearly. His hair was on the shirt side and curly, a soft brown color. His eyes were white, which was something that would catch anyone off guard. He wore a light yellow sweater with a white buttoned shirt. Despite behind afraid of him at first, you now began to realize he was actually rather cute.

Sensing you were a bit startled, he smiled widely and offered a hand. “Hello! I’m Ghostbur! I don’t know if I knew you when I was alive, so apologies if that’s an issue. I seem to have some memory problems since my passing,” he said almost sadly. Before you could get a word in, he continued, “oh! Here, take some of this!” The ghost offered a small blue material, which was a bit confusing. You raised an eyebrow at him. “Have some blue! How it works is it pulls the sadness out of you!” he explained cheerily. You looked at the dyed material in your hands, wondering why it was already blue. The blue staining his hands explained why that was the case.

Since that moment, he regarded you as a friend. He introduced you to his blue sheep whom he had named Friend, and you even offered to put up a small area for him. Ghostbur acted like that was the kindest thing someone had done for him, and he cheerily showed Friend the area. When he had to travel and hand out blue, he left Friend with you. You had taken a liking to the blue sheep, feeding it and keeping it company whenever Ghostbur was away. Your life felt a lot less lonely with the two around.

You smiled at the ghost on your doorstep, “hello Ghostbur! What brings you here today?” You took in his sight, noticing he was holding something behind his back. After a moment, the man moved his hands and showed that he was holding an array of flowers. Not the kind you would purchase from a store or vendor, but the ones that were picked just for you. You noticed that the array had many of your favorite flowers in it. You couldn’t remember if you even told him what your favorites were or not.

“I wanted to bring my friend some flowers! Friend is not with me today, but he misses you greatly,” he said with a smile. You took the flowers from him gently, returning the smile. “Aw, that’s awfully sweet of you Ghostbur. Would you like to come in and have some tea?” you offered. The man nodded, and you stepped aside to let him in. The young man floated slowly into your house, looking at all the intricate things you had in your various bookcases. His hands running softly over volumes of novels, whispering the names to himself. Ghostbur loved books, and you often found you were missing books when he came by. How he got away with it without you nothing, you never knew.

He turned to you, a shy expression on his face. Realizing why he looked confused, you gestured to the couch, which he sat down on. You stared a bit too long, trying to figure out how a ghost could sit on the couch like that. Nevertheless, you went to your kitchen and began making tea.

As you made the two of you a cup of tea, you could hear the clap of excitement followed by the strum of a guitar. It seemed he found your guitar by the closet. Soon the random string plucking turned into a tune that seemed almost nostalgic. You had never heard it before, but it was quite lovely. You took the two cups of newly made tea and walked back into your living room. Ghostbur sat on your couch, fingers gliding over the strings of your guitar. His face scrunched as he concentrated on getting the notes right, letting out a small “fuck” every time he messed up.

He glanced up at you after a moment, blinking at you as he continued playing. Soon, he he began to sing along to the tune he was playing. You couldn’t really hear what the lyrics were, as he was singing them so softly, but you didn’t mind one bit. He suddenly stopped, staring at the guitar for a moment before starting again. Ghostbur began playing a differ song, his voice now loud enough for you to catch a few of the lyrics.

“I'm gettin' hickeys from my bed bugs

I'm gettin' busy with a bad perfume

I'm stickin' kisses to a pen drug

I'm makin' friction with a sad vacuum.”

You set down his cup of tea in front of him, and he stopped playing it again to grab at it. As he drank the tea, you really began questioning how ghosts worked. You sipped yours as well, finishing it quickly and setting it onto the coffee table in front of the couch. Ghostbur set his down as well, looking into his lap as he held onto the guitar.

“Wil-Ghostbur, why are you here?” you asked. The flowers he had given you now sat in a large vase on the dining room table, right by a window for light. The man looked up, a slight blush on his cheeks. You didn’t expect him to answer. “I- I feel that the two of us have gotten awfully close. Now, I can’t remember if I had any affairs when I was alive...wait no, there was Sally,” he said, his words trailing off after he remembered he had a fish mistress at one point. You weren’t sure if that story was even true, but hell, you had met Fundy. That made the fish story even more confusing. “I can’t remember anything about kissing from when I was alive, but I do think I would like to do it with you,” he continued as he took one of your hands into his.

I'm getting jiggy with a rifle I'll pull the trigger with my eyes closed Hoping to hit you somewhere vital And when I miss, you come and kiss me with a smile

You were a bit shocked at that. Ghostbur didn’t seem the type to want physical affection like that, but then again, he was an ever changing man due to memory loss. You paused before responding, “I think...I think I would like that too.” And with that, Ghostbur leaned over and kissed you. His lips were cold, not like ice, but more like the air of a crisp October morning. One of his hands made its way to your check, clutching it lovingly. You practically melted into him. You pulled away to take a deep breath, and you laughed quietly at how flustered he looked. Well, as flustered as a pale ghost would look. You could swear you could see his cheeks reddening, but you hadn’t the time to double check because he pushed you into the couch, latching his mouth onto yours again hungrily.

You felt his hands rest at the side of your shirt, and he pulled away panting to ask “can I? Please?” You nodded, grimacing as he almost tore your shirt right off. Ghostbur did nearly the same to your pants, his fingers shaky as he unzipped your pants and threw them off the couch onto the floor.

Ghostbur began to tease you through your underwear, “look at you...so beautiful...” he whispered to himself as he tore them off after just a few moments. He sunk a finger into you gently, watching you intently to make sure you were still okay with everything. “Let me know if I need to slow down, love,” he said softly, his finger pulling out before being pushed back in. You nodded, letting out a small moan. He kept at this for a moment before sticking a second one in, expertly thrusting them into you and hitting all the spots that made you whine.

I'm havin' sex with a ghost

'Cause she knows I'm alone

She's a freak in the sheets, play it cool

I'm sleepin' with a

Sex with a ghost

'Cause she knows I'm alone

She's a freak in the sheets, play it cool

I'm sleepin' with a ghoul

Ghostbur began thrusting them into you at a faster pace, desperate to see you cum. His own pants were tight as he watched you come apart on his fingers. They finally reached the spot that made you cry out, and his eyes lit up as he realized. He kept thrusting them there until you nearly sobbed out “Ghostbur, I’m gonna-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence before you came on his fingers, hiding your face in the couch. You panted out as he slowly removed his fingers, and looked up to find him licking at them with a face of pure lust and bliss. He removed his own pants and boxers at once, desperate to be inside you. You could see how desperate he was, watching his hard cock spring out. You reached out and stroked it slowly as he unbuttoned his white shirt, smiling as he let out the neediest whimper. He threw the last of his clothes onto the floor, moving your hand off of his cock gently. “Please, need to be inside you, I need you..” he whimpered out, positioning himself at your entrance. You moaned as he thrust against you a couple of times before his cock sunk into you. You gasped at the intrusion while he let out a whine, clutching at you desperately as he stilled, letting you get adjusted. Not even a minute later, you rolled your hips against him, “please, please move Ghostbur.”

The man pulled out of you before thrusting in again, whimpering out, “god, you’re so tight, love. I just- fuck you feel so good around me.” Ghostbur began to thrust into you harder, leaning down and biting at your neck. You moaned into his ear, not caring about the bruises you’d wear tomorrow. Why would you when he was fucking you so good? One hand gripped at your hip, pulling you into his thrusts while the other grasped at your hand. When you took his hand into yours, he let out a groan and his thrusts became erratic. Ghostbur eventually found that spot he knew made you cry for him, and he pounded into it without a care in the world.

He could feel himself get close, your whimpers and cries for him sending him spiraling down. But he was a gentlemen. He didn’t want to cum until you did. And he knew you were close from the moans you let out. So the hand that was gripping your hip moved down to circle your clit roughly. The pads of his fingers surprised you, and you came before you could warn him. You tightened around him, making the man cry out, “so good for me love, so good. That’s it, that’s it. Milk my cock love... oh fuck.” And with a few more sharp thrusts, he came inside you, moaning into your ear. He continued thrusting as he did, overstimulating the two of you. He nearly collapsed onto the couch, slowly pulling out of you before settling beside you. He stroked your hair, whispering how much he adored you, about how good you did. You fell asleep soon after with a smile.

Ghostbur watched you with interest as you slept. He continued to stroke your hair and whisper to you. Ghosts didn’t need to sleep, after all.

You would never know how much the man truly adored you.

#c!wilbur #wilbur soot x reader #ghostbur #ghostbur x reader

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sweetestlamb · 3 years

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Try A Little Tenderness

Summary: Han Seo gets treated with kindness and affection and he doesn’t know how to process these foreign feelings. Also he gets a first eye contact of the mafia couple.

Author's note: A few of you said you would like to read this so I popped it out real quick in between real life and all that mess, I did something like this for IOTNBO and really enjoyed that sometimes it’s fun to see a relationship from an outsider’s pov. I also saw a few people say that they ship our puppy with a certain someone so I threw in some crumbs because the visuals would be very pretty and good for my health. It has talks of past abuse (see psychopath brother) but I don’t think it’s any darker than the regular show. Happy reading!

He keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for them to realize that he's nowhere near good or smart enough to keep alive such less work so closely to them and listen to their plans. They trust him, he can tell by the way that conversations don't taper off if he comes into the room with another question about how to use the copy machine- there are so many buttons and it's confusing figuring it out by myself.

This first time he sheepishly asks for help after reading articles online and coming no closer to understanding the massive machine, he expects more fanfare; a slap on the cheek, a rap on the forehead or just a simple sigh and "idiot" that he would smile in the face of but the word would stick to his heart for days on end. His eyes were glued to the ground after his inquiry so he missed whatever look they originally gave him but surprisingly enough Ms. Hong stepped forward, he almost flinched as the hand approached his view but instead of pain he just felt warmth on his shoulder.

Guiding him with the hand on his shoulder, she led him back over to the machine and patiently explained all the buttons to him, even smiling gently when he pulled out a little notepad to write down the many directions.

"You really only need these three buttons this is the power button, but this thing is ancient so sometimes it may need a good kick." He jumped marginally at the loud bang of her foot against the side, quickly writing that down as well.

Really old. Needs kick.

"Then you press this button to choose the amount of copies, choose double or single sided and choose with staple and that's it." His eyes darted rapidly trying to keep up with her directions while taking his notes. It sounded simple enough but his brother had taught him that if there was a way to fuck something up, he would find it, naturally. So his nerves skyrocketed when she turned to him with a grin and said, "Are you ready for another test? Make 20 copies of these." She handed him a small stack of papers.

His heart jerked in his chest and suddenly he was fifteen years old again staring at a test sheet and knowing none of the answers. It was hard to study with the fear of Han Seok barging into his room at any moment to do another sick experiment on him, once he had sliced his finger just to watch it bleed. He'd told his father that he accidentally cut himself while cooking and let the shame wash over him as he got a look that screamed that he was incompetent and pathetic.

"Han Seo? Are you okay? You seem like you're a million miles away." The pretty lawyer's concerned voice brought him back to reality and he could feel the stares of the other men in the room on his skin, Vincenzo being the heaviest. He really didn't want to look stupid on front of the man for some unexplored reason. He swallowed hard before facing the machine, feeling like he was going off to war.

He pressed the big power button, shaken when nothing happened but suddenly remembered his notes and with an almost unnoticeable glance he found his answer, swiftly kicking the beast of a copier he watched it roar to life and almost on autopilot he mimicked the motions that Ms. Hong had just demonstrated and watched in terror as the paper was swallowed and the copies were spit out from the compartment in the bottom.

I did it.

Everything seemed to be in order and the machine hadn't exploded. Yet.

"Oh."

The triumphant smile that had graced his face slide off like rain on a windowpane.

"I messed up. I'm sorry. Please let me try-"

He was bowing before he could stop himself, shame a familiar friend at this point in his life. There were very little moments that he didn't feel a tsunami of shame crashing over him in a thick heavy sheet.

"You just forget to select stapled. But that's minor, we can just staple them by hand." She responded nonchalantly picking up the copies and bringing them over to the table, "Good job though. Next time you'll probably get it perfect right?"

It was pathetic. He was pathetic. There was no reason for pride to grow in his chest like a mustard seed, he had only completed a basic task. Something that even a monkey could, actually monkeys could do even more complicated tasks. It was nothing to be proud of. He shouldn't have been smiling as largely as he was, they would think he was insane and kick him out.

But.

She'd said he did a good job. That wasn't a phrase he was used to hearing, he wasn't someone who did anything worth praising. He shuffled away back to the shelves that needed to be organized in alphabetical order, moving a large file to the front of the row unaware that there was an equally huge smile on his face. It stayed there for the rest of the day.

Working there was different from working with his brother. Astronomically. Nobody hit him there, even when he made mistakes. Instead he just got three heads over his shoulder helping him fix said mistake or Mr. Nam pushing his chair out of the way and taking over with only a gentle chide of, "Be careful next time." And it's clear that they all care for and respect each other. It's evident in the way that there's no clear hierarchy at the law firm, when they have meetings they alternate on who makes the coffee for the team, take turns buying meals and they are all allowed to speak and share their ideas without waiting for approval. It's nothing like he's used to and it makes him wonder if this is normal and what he's used to is...not.

It's enough to overwhelm him.

Then something catches his attention in the peripheral of his eye, Ms. Hong impatiently goes to take a sip of her coffee ignoring Vincenzo's firm warning against doing so and she flinches at the heat of the beverage, sticking out her tongue instantly after the first sip, blowing and huffing theatrically- something he's grown used to seeing from her. This isn't what shocks him though, it's Vincenzo's reaction. Immediately he walks over to the water cooler, filling a little paper cup before bringing it back over to her and thrusting the cool liquid into her outstretched hands.

"I told you to be careful." He says voices filled with exasperation as she gulps down the water, shooting him puppy dog eyes.

"I thouf it mould be cool enouf." She replies around her extended tongue and he watches the interaction with wide eyes, that only grow larger when the murderous Mafia member picks up the lawyers mug of steaming liquid and starts to blow on her coffee, his lips puckered into a perfect o. Ms. Hong watches absently as if this is expected behavior and after a few minutes, Vincenzo takes a sip of her coffee deeming it cool enough before handing it back to her. She takes a sip dangerously close to the spot his mouth had just occupied and hums at the temperature, shooting him a brilliant smile. To his utter surprise the usually stoic Mafia member smiles back fondly, before walking off to make a call. Ms. Hong watches him walk away before realizing that he's watching their interaction and a delicate blush blossoms in her cheeks before she stutters walking off to her table.

He glances between the two with his head tilted. Feeling curious.

Once he starts looking it's almost indecent how often the two touch each other, Vincenzo's hand never too far from Ms. Hong's back or arm and she never reacts to the sudden touches, no flinching or tensing up when a foreign hand is suddenly on her person. That's a new concept for him, he doesn't like surprise touches.

Then there's the fact that Mr. Cassano never allows Ms. Hong to hold anything, when she comes bustling through the doors with bags in her hand the smell of pasta permeating the room the older man is already making his way across the room tugging the bags from her hands wordlessly. He places them carefully on the table before smoothly dragging out her chair and guiding her into it with a hand on her waist.

"I brought your favorite. Authentic Italian food." She smirks up at him, opening the containers and he feels his mouth water at the tantalizing aroma that fills the room even more than before.

"It smells amazing! Where did you find authentic Italian food?" He asks inserting himself into their conversation and for a minute, he second guesses himself gearing up for a blow. But it never comes and Ms. Hong waves him closer, pushing a container of thick noodles in his direction.

"Are you hungry? Here have some!" She shoves chopsticks into his hand and watches him eagerly and he can do nothing but follow her orders, stuffing the tomato sauce drenched noodles into his mouth. When he looks up he sees that they are both watched him avidly, awaiting his review and he smiles around his bulging cheeks putting up two thumbs.

"It's delicious! Best Italian food I've ever had!" He stares excitedly and he's unprepared for Vincenzo's sudden glare, it's the first time the man has thrown such a look his way he gulps nervously at the unnerving sight.

"What- did I say something wrong?" He warily asks watching the Italian man angrily stomp off whilst muttering something indecipherable to him but that makes Ms. Hong smile mischievously, grabbing the container and chasing after the fleeing man.

"Stop being a snob! Have some, say ahhhh!" He can't comprehend the sight that he's watching, dumbfounded as the petite lawyer hangs on Mr. Cassano's arm and tries to feed him the Italian food.

"No! I don't want it, stop! Why do you keep bringing that here?" The Italian Mafia boss whines pushing her away but he notes that he never pushes her too hard, his shoves are very soft barely rocking her slight body. When she starts to chase him around the room, Han Seo can only watch in shock the behavior too childish for him to reconcile that these are the same people who have been thwarting all his brother's plans. Not even Mr. Nam entering the office is enough to stop their shenanigans and in the end it's Vincenzo who admits defeat, backed into a wall. Han Seo waits for her to give him the food and for this moment to come to an end. But neither one of them make a move, frozen against the wall staring at each other looking a million miles away.

It's then that it clicks for him.

They are more than just partners.

When one of the various plaza tenants burst through the doors only then is the tense moment severed, Ms. Hong jumps back flustered thrusting her hand at his face and Mr. Cassano has to open his mouth lest he get smashed in the jaw. He watches amused as a grimace crosses the older man's face as he swallows the food as if it's poison.

Ms. Hong flies across to help the cute pianist that he's seen around a plaza a few times. He stares at her from under his bangs, looking away when she catches his eyes. Coughing loudly he walks away to do something important that doesn't involve losing his wits because of a pretty girl. Maybe he can talk to Mr. Cassano later just to ask about her, there's nothing wrong with being curious about your neighbors after all.

He doesn't know where else to go so he comes to Jipuragi, letting out a sigh of relief when he sees all the lights off. He pulls the key that Mr. Nam gave him from his pocket, still in disbelief that they trusted him enough to give him a key to the establishment. He had blinked away tears when the older man pushed the small metal object into his hands, it felt like a huge responsibility. Almost like he was being accepted into their makeshift family. It was far more than he deserved.

Sitting down on his chair, he lets the agony wash over him. His cheek is throbbing, sore and swollen from the open handed slaps against the skin. Their stocks had dropped again from all the accusations and bad publicity, and his brother had once again taken it out on him berating him like a dog before kicking me out. It's nothing new, nothing he's never experienced before but it feels worst. Now that he's been around people who don't treat him like he's dirt, it hurts even more to go back to the old ways. He's so lost in thought he doesn't notice the door opening or the person creeping inside.

"What are you doing here?"

He jumps at the unexpected voice, twisting in his seat panicked. His heart rate settles once he sees the cool eyes of the man he's grown to respect. Vincenzo Cassano. He slumps in his seat, no excuses coming to mind and then it's too late and the other man is crossing the room and taking a seat across from him.

Those cold eyes narrow as they search his face, "What happened to your face?"

Images of his brother looming over him and slapping him on the ground flood his mind, along with his screams of pain as he pleads for him to stop. Then visions of a much smaller version of himself pleading similarly as his brother pulled his hair and laughed at his cries. He's crying before he ever realizes that the tear has condensed.

Vincenzo tenses across the table, looking lost and uncomfortable.

It only makes him cry harder. It's so much better than getting hit.

Without a word the Mafia boss stands up pushing his chair away, stomping powerfully to the door. He watches alarmed before finding his voice and calling out, "Where are you going?"

The man looks at him darkly answering, "To kill your brother."

He gapes at the statement said so matter of fact and a bubble of laughter rises to the surface, making him chuckle through his tears. He rears back further at the other man's blatant confusion following his outburst, feeling freer than he's ever felt because this is the first time someone has tried to defend him.

It feels nice. Better than nice, unbelievable.

His heart thumps as he looks at the other man that he has every reason to be scared of but instead he feels safer than ever in his presence, it almost feels like what a brother should. A real brother not the one that he has who would kill him tomorrow without batting an eyelash.

"He's not done suffering yet. But thank you." Vincenzo shifts awkwardly at his show of gratitude never accepting of thanks something he has noticed while observing the enigmatic man, he vaguely wonders what this man has been through to make the complicated person he sees in front of him. Maybe one day he'll ask.

"Well if you're going to stay here, there's a bed up there."

Impulsively he replies, "Have you ever used it before? Is it really okay for me to use?"

He's met with a puzzled look, which he returns with a calculating one and then he spares a quick glance over to Ms. Hong's table and the gears click and Vincenzo is tomato faced and yelling, "Watch your mouth you brat! Do you want a beating?"

It shouldn't be funny with his face still throbbing from a beating just hours earlier, but he laughs so much his stomach hurts and that pain dulls the ache in his face.

"Oh my goodness what happened to your face?" He's barely able to get out an answer before Ms. Hong is jogging across the room, ever so gently catching his face in her small warm hands. Immediately he's reminded of his mother and he has to look away before he embarrasses himself.

He mumbles a lie about tripping but she's already sending a ferocious knowing look over to her partner and he watches their silent conversation with large eyes, until her voice breaks the pregnant pause.

"I can't wait until we kill that punk. How dare he put a hand on you? I'll go get some medicine, you-" she points to Vincenzo, "get him some ice before it starts to swell." The man automatically follows her instructions, looking like a dutiful husband.

And that's how Mr. Nam finds them, Vincenzo pressing ice wrapped in towels against his cheek as Ms. Hong squeezes creamy ointment onto her finger and smears it across his cheek. He blames his glossy eyes on the pain in his cheek and not the one in his chest.

It's his first time walking around the plaza and he tries to ignore the suspicious eyes that trail him, he knows that they know him as their enemy's brother and underling so he doesn't blame them for not trusting him, he would do the same. The clang of piano keys catches his attention and leads him to the source of the noise like a siren luring lost men, he watches transfixed through the glass as delicate fingers fly across the keys in a frenzy. It’s mesmerizing.

He was forced to get piano lessons when he was younger, he was surprisingly good at it even better than Han Seok thus his brother became enraged and smashed his fingers putting a permanent end to his lessons.

The music lulls him into a sense of comfort so much so he doesn't realize when it ends and the small pianist notices that she has an audience.

When he finally looks up and catches her eye, he freaks out expecting her to look at him like all the others have today so he's unprepared for the door to slide open and for her to beckon him in with a crooked finger. He walks in almost as if in a trance, she's so pretty it's almost unnatural a supernatural glow surrounding her in her white flowing dress.

"How does it feel working at Jipuragi?" She asks suddenly catching him off guard, he sputters before taking a deep breath and looking away before replying, "I feel useful. It's....new."

That's all he can disclose and honestly it's more than he intended on saying but a knowing smile stretches across her pale face.

"Vincenzo, he's someone special who can make others feel special too." He smarts at the clear adoration in her voice, of course. She liked Vincenzo too. Every woman at this plaza probably did, the Italian was much more appealing than he would ever be- naturally charismatic and handsome, every woman's dream.

He smiles defeated stepping further into the space, running his fingers longingly across the piano keys. Something else that just wasn't meant for him.

"You like him too. It makes sense, he's really cool." He whispers, self deprecation swaddling him like a blanket.

It's obvious who else he's referring to only Vincenzo and Ms. Hong seem to be in denial at this point everyone else assuming that they're already dating.

She doesn't deny his accusation. It's his own fault for having hope but that knowledge does nothing to tamper the hurt that rumbles in his chest.

She hums before walking closer to him, fingers trailing across the black and white keys.

"I did. But they're good together."

He stills in shock, lightly pressing down on the key beneath his finger the sound vibrating through his skin. Then she presses another key that rings harmoniously with his and he can't not look over at her and he jolts breath stuck in his throat when he finds her already staring at him with a serene smile, "There are a lot of interesting people here though, someone else has caught my eye."

He plays the final note to fulfil the chord they started and their eyes never leave the other, music floating on the air between them.

Full. He’s never known what that felt like before but now he feels full of everything and he can't go back, can't ever go back to the way things once were.

There’s no looking back, only forward.

#vincenzo #jang han seo #best boy pov #chayenzo #but as his doting parents #a new ship that I think would be absolutely adorkable #I want to put han seo in my pocket #little brother energy #hyungs #Vincenzo #vincenzo cassano

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eirikaanemo · 3 years

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Venti’s a Superhero (GN)

1) You’re in law enforcement

The two of you have a pretty typical hero-officer relationship. He catches the supervillains, you cart them off to prison. It’s not a big deal and you don’t think much of it.

Or, rather, you wouldn’t if your co-workers would just leave things be. However, they keep pushing you to be the one to interact with him. Something about him liking to work with you specifically, which is ridiculous.

Sure he does flirt with you and drops the cheesiest pick up lines ever. And sure, he does smile a lot when you’re around. But it’s not like he’s serious about it, right? He jokes around by flirting with villains after all, so how do you know this isn’t a joke too?

It’s honestly kind of hard on you because you’ve found yourself falling for him. Who wouldn’t, honestly? He’s strong, charming, and just a really nice guy. It has nothing to do with the way he laughs at your stupid jokes or protected you fiercly the couple of times you were specifically targeted in an attack.

But when he shows up in front of the police station with a ukelele and sings you a cheesy love song he apparently wrote himself, you have to face the truth. He does, in fact, actually like you. The flirting was playful, not pretended. The cute superhero guy actually likes you back.

It’s kind of overwhelming honestly. So when he asks you on a date right after you’re kind of speechless. His face falls when you apparently take too long to respond and you have to chase after him as he walks away, dejected, to reassure him that yes, you’d love to go on a date with him.

“Why did you decide to wear your superhero costume on our date again?” You ask him, hyper aware of all the stares that the two of you are getting. The press are at the cafe doors, only kept out by threat of legal action from the owner of the establishment. Thank goodness they’re apparently a big fan of Venti and the work he does. Also, Venti is apparently a regular here. Who knew?

He takes a sip of his dandelion tea and glances out at the press nervously. “Well, I guess I’m just worried about doing an identity reveal for our first date. I was thinking maybe third or something.” You blink and a smile spreads across your face. “Oh? So you want there to be a third date before our first date is even over?” You tease him. His face flushes red. “Yeah,” he admits. “I can’t picture myself with anyone else. I’ve fallen for you and I can’t get up.”

2) You’re a journalist

You have always loved superheroes. They’re just so cool! Someone with a secret identity working a double life to serve and save the people around them? How awesome is that! And so when you move to Mondstadt and found out that they have their very own superhero, Barbatos, you are absolutely thrilled!

And, even better, your boss knows about your love of superheroes and assigns you to be the journalist representing the company on superhero related matters- including Barbatos!

So you take to your new task with gusto! This is exactly why you became a journalist! You will get all the best scoops and make your company proud. And if this involves showing up at all his fights and following him on patrol, well, that’s just doing your job, right?

Meanwhile, Venti, or Barbatos, is starting to be seriously concerned about your mental and physical health. Are you obsessed? Is this hyperfixation unhealthy for you? Are you overworking yourself? What if you get hurt from one of his fights? What is he supposed to do in this situation?

In the end, he decides to take a minute to talk to you about it during his regular patrol. He’s relieved to find out that yes, you are okay, and that you’re really just a super big fan. Eventually talking to you becomes a habit.

As time passes, you start putting less and less private details into your articles and stick to more public knowledge and juicy bits you get from battles and about villains. The stuff he tells you on patrol stays with you as the two of you get to know each other better. Soon you’re good friends, and maybe are edging into more.

It was a night almost like any other, except for how it wasn’t. This time he’d picked you up, bridal style, and flew both of you up onto a rooftop. Now the two of you are taking a well deserved rest stargazing together. “And there’s sagittarius,” you point to a constellation in the sky. You were fascinated with stars a couple years ago and had a wealth of information you could share with him.

“Sagittarius, huh?” He murmured. “Right there?” Now he was pointing at it too.

“Not quite,” you reply. You wrap a hand around the hand he’s pointing with and adjust it’s direction. “Right there.”

When you don’t get a response, you turn and look at him, only to find him as red as the apples he loves so much. It seems to get even worse when he notices you looking and he stutters a bit before he is finally able to spit out what he’s been trying to say for weeks.

“I really, really like you.”

3) You’re a fellow superhero

You are a superhero called Torque who has total control over cars. Your weapon arsenal consists of fifteen different toy cars that you can shrink and grow at will and use to knock villains off their feet. Sure they have more tricks to them, but you can’t give all your secrets away, can you?

Your specialty is evacuation, but you’re also good at keeping supervillains on their toes. Getting run over by cars doesn’t tend to be fun. So you can distract them from the other hero they are fighting. Because of this you make excellent back up and are often on call.

He is better in combat situations because of his aerokinesis. His abilities make him great for emergency response because he can get to the fights quickly and take immediate, safe action. The level of control he has makes him incredibly versatile too.

The two of you end up working together very often. He will show up early with you coming in not too long after. You will take over evacuation and protecting the citizens, allowing him to completely focus on the villain. As soon as you’re done evacuating, you join in the frey.

Your teamwork is legendary among the hero community and you’re a very popular duo in the eyes of the citizens. Famous for prioritizing civilian safety and quick takedowns, you’re effective and efficient. So far as most anyone knows, you’re just good friends, despite 80% of your fanbase shipping you.

In reality though, you’re already married. It’s a secret because you don’t want your identities to be compromised and your different relationship levels in and out of costume add another layer of safety to your disguises. If they knew, though, they would love how domestic the two of you are at home.

You slip into your home through the window. A relieved sigh escapes your lips as you close the window behind you, only for you to nearly shriek as someone suddenly wraps their arms around your waist and blows in your ear. Venti laughs from behind you. “Ehe, you’re always so fun to surprise.”

He smiles into your shoulder and holds you unusually close. The smile seems a little strained. “Today was close, are you okay?” He asks you. Oh. He’s talking about how you almost got hit today. Usually you’re fast enough to avoid hits like that, but you got distracted while evacuating and almost didn’t see it coming. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, so be more careful, okay?”

4) You’re a hostage he saves

The two of you know nothing about each other at the time. You’re a regular citizen of Mondstadt who was going about their business as normal until you got kidnapped.

It all went so fast. One moment you were walking down the street, the next you were being held hostage with a knife to your throat. While you’re terrified, he rescues you as quickly as the villain got you.

There’s just something special about being saved by a superhero. As someone who had been crushing on him for a while even before being rescued, it was all a bit too much for you to comprehend.

He happens to have just the biggest crush on you out of costume, not that he ever planned to tell you. But there was something special about being able to save you, being your hero.

If either of you thought your crush couldn’t get worse, you were dead wrong. The media is all over it, spinning dramatic love stories about how he’d apparently been especially careful with you and you’d given him the look.

You start following news about him more frequently and he keeps a special eye on you the times he happens to spot you on patrol. Daydreams about each other are more common now and your mutual pining reaches new levels.

You hear a sharp rap as something hits your window. It continues for a couple time before you get curious enough to check out what’s going on. Apparently someone’s been throwing rocks at your window. Opening the window, you peer down to see who’s there and nearly get hit in the face. Thankfully, Barbatos catches the rock before it hits you.

“Whoops, sorry,” he apologizes. “I didn’t mean to almost hit you. I was just trying to get your attention.” He pulls a bouquet of flowers from behind his back, cecilias. “I got this for you! Hopefully you like it as much as I like you!” The blush dusting his cheeks has nothing on the warmth that covers your face. Are you sure you are not dreaming?

#eirika writes #venti #genshin venti #venti x reader #genshin impact x reader #superhero au

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beautifulsnake2162020 · 3 years

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Ikevamp headcanons after watching Hamilton

Quick disclaimer: Yes I know this is a show about people who had owned slaves and slavery is bad. Having said that there's a reason why we suspend disbelief for a couple of hours and just allow ourselves to be swept into the story. I also love Phantom of the Opera but I also am aware that this is a story that involves an abusive and toxic relationship. The point is that I am aware that there are problems that needs to be discussed, but I still love the music, the story and the shows okay. This is just fan content not meant to be taken seriously and is just for fun. Okay? Now let's proceed.

I'll be doing Will and Arthur first since I'm currently doing Shakespeare's route and was inspired to do this after MC watches Romeo and Juliet with Vincent and I was wondering how Will would react to watching Hamilton. And Arthur is here because he is my husband/main lover. I might do Mozart and Napoleon next.

SPOILER ALERT: For anyone who hasn't seen the Disney Plus version of Hamilton, there might be some spoilers here (unless you already saw the show or know the story that is).

General Scenario:

You don't know how but Le Comte was able to get the filmed version of Hamilton, a musical which you've told Sebastian that you've been dying to see but was never able to because tickets were always sold out and entering the lottery was going to be a little too expensive for someone who lives in Japan and who doesn't exactly have the money or the time to simply fly to New York if in case she won. You were also excited because apparently Le Comte was able to modify the 21st century tech room that you use for your online classes and was able to get a wide screen and high quality surround sound which made you appreciate his efforts. A part of you was also curious as to how the other residents would react. You were scared that some of them might take offense, especially Napoleon who knew one of the characters in the show in real life. Would they react weirdly for seeing people different from them portray people that they knew? You were also wondering if they might even appreciate some of the 21st century slang that you and Sebastian would sometimes slip back into whenever it was just the two of you alone. After talking it out with everyone and explaining a few more things (like how its probably going to be different since it is a series of captured pictures-or at least that's your closest analogy- being played super fast with the synchronized sound of the actors- or what you were almost tempted to call "Techno Magic") during a dinner in which Shakespeare had decided to be present in, they were actually interested in what this show is about. Napoleon convinced you that he's fine and actually someone else playing Lafayette might even help with the suspension of disbelief since its been awhile since he has last met him anyway. Will even mentioned that while he has read and heard about stories from America, this is probably going to be the first story or production he's going to see from it. The only one who showed any hesitation - to no one's surprise - was Mozart, since he is attached to the kind of music he is familiar with (aren't we all?). But after prodding from both Jean, Le Comte and you giving him the puppy eyes, he finally relents. The day comes when everyone was once again free and for practicality everyone decided to have a meal first so that they won't be hungry during the show and also for you, Le Comte, and Sebastian to explain a few things everyone else may need to know to truly appreciate the show (like how the Presidential system and elections worked during the setting, what the word "Rewind" means, what is beatboxing, etc). So finally everyone gathered into the tech room after the meal, the lights were dimmed and once everyone was settled, you hit play. And as self-predicted of you, you find yourself crying in the end.

William Shakespeare (I'm still doing his route so please don't hate me if I get him wrong. Also no spoilers please).

- He was a bit shocked at first by how exactly up close you could see the facial expressions of the actors as well as the various ways it would cut to another person. He could now understand why you struggled with trying to explain how its played in a theatre but not exactly like the theatrical experience. But as you saw in your periphery, by the time Philippa Soo sings her first line, Will had already adjusted and allowed himself to be an audience and shut off his director and actor mindset (for the most part at least).

- While he didn't specialize in musicals, he found himself paying attention to the story of "the ten dollar founding father without a father." He knows how music could help both the actors and the audience in succumbing to their emotions in a scene and to suspend disbelief from reality. In his productions the words are not overwhelmed by any score but rather complemented to bring out the emotion he wants to evoke and for actors to show. Since many parts of the show has been influenced by the spoken word style without completely removing it from being sung, he has become enlightened with how powerful a show can be when it is done right.

- He not only enjoyed the story (especially the flow of it) and the production (especially some of the more technical details that the other residents hadn't noticed as far as a stage production is concerned), he loved that even the ensemble members had good acting and some of the onstage humor. One of the meta things he enjoyed was the obvious reference to his most superstitious work.

- Once you've seen how he loves analyzing the technical details of the production, you excitedly tell him about a special member of the ensemble who is known as "The bullet" among fans of the show. You could see him being enlightened as he watches the show with you again (this time with just the two of you) and he now sees "the bullet" and the way she interacts with the characters in a whole different light. He was so impressed with this idea that he may have adapted it into one of his new original plays (its not a copy paste of Hamilton's "bullet" but he definitely adapted assigning a member of the ensemble to have a special role that may not be significant at first, but he heavily notes that this member would have to be unique in interacting with any of the other characters).

- He didn't know what to expect from a 21st Century production but he found himself impressed with the prose and writing of various raps and songs. His favorite from Act 1 in terms of rhyme schemes was "Right Hand Man" and from Act 2 it was Jefferson's rap in "Washington by your side". And after settling down a bit his favorite emotional parts were "History has its eyes on you", "Hurricane", and "It's quiet uptown".

- He was impressed with how the double roles was given and how it actually is true for both of their roles in both acts. Ambiguity is one of his favorite things to have in a work, and he gives props to Lin for all the ambiguity he later realizes was in several parts of the show. If he and Arthur had been a little bit more closer, they probably would have bonded over the ambiguity Hamilton's comma in his letter to Angelica (see kids, grammar matters).

- A part of his brain wonders how the real life Hamilton would react to this and if him and Burr would still be enemies. But after some thinking he decides its not worth his efforts of asking anyone to bring them back since a wonderful production of their life has already been made even if it may not necessarily reflect who they truly are. He of all people knew what it's like to be inspired by great figures, it was fortunate that Lin Manuel Miranda decided to make a show about them before he had the chance to.

- You explain that in America Hamilton is one of the lesser known founding fathers of their nation and how it may be because his political opponents later on became Presidents and therefore was able to form the narrative. He becomes inspired by it and begins to search out people or stories who are hidden gems who may not be historically famous but had much more interesting stories than some of the ones he has heard of.

- Afterwards once you are sure that he has gotten comfortable enough with the genre you show him various videos of people rapping to his works and his reactions range from impressed to amused to "that's not what I mean when I wrote that" and you had to calm him down and explain that they can't hear him anyway after he started giving serious critiques on what the text means.

Arthur Conan Doyle

- While he was knowledgeable about many things, America's founding fathers was not one of them. He along with the other residents have gotten used to any rumors or exaggerated accounts of their lives and you and Sebastian have already warned that this is just a fictionalized production of the real person. As a writer of some historical fiction books he argued that he of all people was aware that any work based on history will speak more about the creators rather than the actual people they are writing about most of the time. He was nevertheless interested as to why you have become fascinated with the treasury secretary (and maybe it was with a twinge of jealousy that you began to expressly show admiration to another man even if he wasn't among the residents in the mansion). After all unlike many other residents of the mansion, on the surface it seemed that Hamilton was similar to Theo who mainly played a supporting but crucial role to his brother. He was thankful that you didn't hold it against him and was comforted that you were in a similar place. You even told him that the only thing you really knew about Hamilton before listening to the soundtrack and watching "Animatics" was that he was in the ten dollar American bill.

- And as someone who has delved into writing historical fictions, this was probably one of the most entertaining productions about a historical figure he has seen. He's going to be honest with you in that at first he was wondering if revealing Burr shot Hamilton in the opening was going to hinder him from enjoying the show; but he was pleasantly surprised that this was not the case at all. As a matter of fact it now made him want to find out who the real Hamilton was (although a part of him doubts if the real Hamilton had any regrets at all). According to him, this is why as a fictionalized historical work, the show is a success because it makes you want to find out more about the events and figures of the story (even if it means looking at darker realities that they did). And while the real Hamilton may be a lot different from what was shown, with all the things he went through and all the things he has done (for better or worse), he now wonders why exactly Le Comte hadn't approached him since he seems to be no better or worse than the average resident ("He and Newt could probably discuss mathematics all day."). You then explained that his political rivals (Jefferson and Madison from the show, and Monroe who wasn't shown in the musical) had later on become Presidents and was able to shape the narrative away from Hamilton. "Ron Chernow made Hamilton's biography because he was the lesser known founding father who was fading into obscurity among Americans and Lin read the book and recognized the story of someone who has risen through his writings. And to Lin that was also the story of hiphop." While he wasn't involved in politics as much as Hamilton was, Arthur had enough experience to know what it feels like to have those kinds of people in power. He also knows just how powerful it is to be in "the room where it happened" and how sometimes the real decisions weren't being made in an office but rather in either a private party or the right bar when people in power had their guard down and were more susceptible to being influenced.

- He could relate a lot with Hamilton on many things that he's only comfortable allowing either you or Theo to see. From being just so much more aware of death's inevitability coming for every living thing to survivor's guilt even though a part of him knows its irrational (but sometimes the emotional nonsense just overtakes our perspectives and actions). It's why he could understand Hamilton's need to write as much as he can before he dies. It's why for a time in his human life he had deviated from writing about Holmes and ventured into other genres. He could also relate to the need to prove what type of person he was, and how to go beyond his tragedies to serve people in their own ways. Hamilton did it as a soldier and the creator of America's financial system. And he is doing it as an informally practicing doctor and as a writer. It's a need that he's trying to mitigate since you've repeatedly told him that he doesn't need to prove anything to you or to anyone and to write whatever he pleases. But he also can't deny that it's still somewhere lodged in the back of his head.

- Just like William Shakespeare, in terms of the wordplay found in rap and the ambiguity present in the show and how those things were executed made him amazed and momentarily speechless. He was especially fanboying about "The comma after dearest" and how this essentially shows how important grammar was. It went to the extent that afterwards whenever he would write to you he would address you either as "My dearest, Y/N" or "My darling, Y/N" with special emphasis on the comma (sometimes you could see how there's more ink in the comma than some of the actual words. That's how much he wants to emphasize that you hold the title of dearest or darling). And you excitedly share with him some of the trivia knowledge of the show (like how in real life it was Angelica who originally made the comma mistake by writing to Hamilton as "My dear, sir" in one of her letters and it was Hamilton who was asking her what the comma means and even replied with "Ma chere, soeur") and how Angelica really did reference the Icarus metaphor in one of her letters to Eliza. And even though he wasn't a major musical nerd (he sang for fun), he would now join you in watching Howard Ho's Hamilton videos musically analyzing Hamilton (and would probably try to find a way to use this knowledge to annoy Mozart in some way).

- Speaking of music: Maybe it's because he's biased in his love for you but aside from Sebastian he's probably the one who has no qualms about the hiphop genre and was immediately into the various wordplays that rapping allowed. And because of this his favorite characters in terms of rapping are the ones played by Daveed Diggs (probably more than Hamilton himself even though you've explained that Lin is the one who wrote the whole thing). He even adapts to how Daveed as Jefferson would say Isaac's third law and incorporated it into his "let's tease Newton" kit. That's when you know he really loves Daveed Diggs ("Every action has an equal opposite -" "WILL YOU PLEASE STOP SAYING IT THAT WAY?! I didn't mind the first few times but this is ridiculous Arthur" "It must be nice, it must be nice to have a Newton on your side"). And his favorite character emotionally was Angelica (her raps in Schuyler Sisters and Satisfied may have helped).

- Speaking of the Schuyler Sisters, after watching it with you another time (this time with just the two of you) one of his favorite things to say is that you've got the best of all three sisters within you (Angelica's wittiness and intelligence, Eliza's cares for the more important things in life, and Peggy's humor) with the sexiness of Maria Reynolds. But because he sees all 4 of them in you he has the benefit of not needing to choose among them. Having said that there will be a period wherein he teases you if he makes you "Helpless" or "Satisfied" (and you respond either by kissing him or singing "That would be enough").

- Whenever you would sing as one of the Schuyler sisters he will join you as any of the male characters the moment he masters the soundtrack and could even sing it without the music. His favorite rap songs are "Guns and Ships", "Washington on your side", and of course "Satisfied". He also really loves "Non-stop", "the 10 duel commandments", and "The room where it happened". But his favorite sequence is from "the Winter's Ball" all the way to "Wait for it". Since it has romance, a shocking revelation, and gives insight to the perspective of the antagonist. He's also one of the first people to attempt to learn the choreography whenever he's in one of his mental blocks in writing. Of course he makes sure not to injure himself.

- He posts song lyrics to keep himself motivated in his times of mental block "There's a million things I haven't done. But just you wait" and "I'm not throwing away my shot" frequently appear around his desk.

-And whenever he's feeling low or insecure, just like Eliza you remind him to "Look around, Look around, how lucky we are to be alive right now."

#Ikemen Vampire #Headcanons #ikemen william #ikevamp #Hamilton #William Shakespeare #Arthur Conan Doyle #Ikemen Arthur #Lin Manuel Miranda #Daveed Diggs #Philippa Soo #Ron Chernow

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serendipityjxmn · 3 years

Text

Mr. President

Chapter 3

TW: Violence, mentions of blood

Words Count: 1.4k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 4

You thought you’ve mistakenly heard it but when you look at the both of them back and forth to find a hint of joke only to find none, your heart thuds rapidly in your chest.

Taehyung leans down to place a paper on the table in front of you in which you find a document titled marriage contract. They can’t be serious..

“A-are you kidding me?” The words are out of your mouth before you could stop it. You look at Mr. Park and he remains calmly staring at you and when you find no answer from him, you look at Taehyung. He shakes his head.

“Due to some reasons, Mr. Park will need to marry anyway in about two months and you came right at the perfect time.” You thought you saw both of their lips quirking up in a smirk as if there’s a different meaning behind it but it’s gone the second it appears. “That’s why we’re proposing this to you.”

Too shell shocked to reply, you’d gone into a complete mute. Taehyung continues to explain the contract, highlighting several matters written on the paper laid in front of you and you could barely process anything.

“-your debt is waived. The contract will last for a year, where the two of you will then separate and you’ll receive a lumpsum amount of 5 million KRW. Further specifications on your relationship can be discussed at later time with Mr. Park. Do you have any questions?” Taehyung finishes.

It takes you several minutes to finally find your voice. Your brain wrecks for a question but strangely, this question is on the top of your head. “What’s your name?” You ask, looking directly at Mr. Park’s intense gaze.

To his credit, he didn’t appear flustered or any of the sort though Taehyung looks as if he’s trying to stifle a laugh.

“My name’s Park Jimin.” He answers calmly.

Jimin…

You gulp as the next question appears in your head and at the tip of your tongue, just waiting to be uttered. “Are you… are you like a.. you know.. c-cult.. is that what they call these days? Like you know.. a.. gang.” You finish, the last word almost like a whisper. You fight a shudder running through your body as you remember the way he handled your brother so skilfully yet merciless like he’s trained years for it.

To your surprise, his lips curl into a smirk. He looks at you in amusement before answering. “Curiosity’s a good thing.. but have you heard that too much curiosity’s killed the cat?”

You swallow. Eyes looking everywhere but Park Jimin. You feel his intimidating scare is almost the same with the look of a predator staring at its prey. And you’re just like that, a prey to Park Jimin. That’s when you have enough.

You stand and Taehyung looks momentarily surprised though Jimin remains composed.

“I’m sorry- I- I don’t know what I meant when I asked you to- to take me. I’ll pay you the debt- as.. as soon as I can and I-“ You say frantically, heels almost threatening to just take off and run away from the scary people. And that’s what you do. Without even finishing your sentence or saying as much as a goodbye to the two of them, you run off, out of the study, out of the house, only faintly aware of passing Mrs. Lee by the lobby downstairs and her calling you but you’re already out in the streets then.

Breathless, you halt in your track and stares back at the huge bungalow in which you were in several minutes ago. You grunt as you felt your body aching. Your head spins, trying to think of what to do and you find yourself taking aimless steps towards nowhere. You shiver and briefly curse once you remember you’re only wearing a dress and the night is getting colder. The wind making goosebumps to raise on your skin.

You’re hungry. But you have no money to eat. So you only stand awkwardly outside a convenience store a good few blocks from Jimin’s house, staring at it helplessly. You only had few dollars in the pocket of your jeans that you wore last night but that’s all left at Jimin’s house. You sigh.

A marriage contract? Who are they kidding..? All you wanted is to escape the hellhole your brother has put you through for years and yet you have to encounter Jimin, giving yourself to him like you’re digging your own grave. Your mind spins as you think of how to pay the debt within this month. Surely, being indebted to him is better than borrowing another amount from loan sharks and end up being slaughtered for not paying them.. right?

Though a small thought in the back of your mind thinks Mr. Park may kill you any time if he wants to.. you shudder at his words in the study a while ago. Heaving loudly, you drag yourself to the corner of the convenience store, sitting at the footstep of the porch, hoping the worker won’t mind you perching there. He probably thinks you’re one of those drunk.

Your body trembles from the cold. It’s a night in autumn but due to your lack of proper attire, you’re shivering endlessly, nose starting to run. Still, you hug your knees and lay your head on top of it, eyes fluttering shut in an attempt to sleep. It’s probably almost midnight.

Just as you think you’re falling into dreamland, a strong force grip your head and you couldn’t even register to scream when you feel yourself being thrown to the rough pavement. Before you could open your eyes to see your attacker, a slap lands on your cheek and you think another side of your lips are split again, barely aware of the red liquid gushing down.

“You bitch! How dare you run away from me?!” You hear the familiar voice that you despise so much. You open your eyes and see your brother, looking more haggard, cheeks sunken. From the corner of your eyes, you see the guy working at the convenience store come out from the store to see the ruckus outside. You shake your head vigorously at him and frantically wave him inside, not wanting him to get involved to reduce the number of casualties. If anyone’s going to die, let it only be you, you thought stupidly.

A sharp pain sears through your head as your hair got yanked and you’re forced to stand at your feet.

“You ungrateful bitch. You’ve been nothing but a burden to me and now you want to run away? I should’ve killed you yesterday. Tell me, little sister, where’s that white knight of yours yesterday?” He run his fingers menacingly through your face and you’re preparing yourself to kick him in the guts when you feel a sharp pain stings at your thigh and you realise it’s a cut from the knife you don’t notice he’s holding and you doubled over the rough gravel of the road.

Helpless. That’s how you always feel. No matter how hard you try to hold it in, no matter how hard you try to fight back, your brother would always hit you stronger.

You don’t know how your thoughts reach there but the name pops in your mind right at that moment. Park Jimin.

And like a sudden spark, the name makes you kick yourself to your feet and before your brother could take hold of you again and finish the deed, you take off and run away as fast as you can, heavily clutching your ribs and fighting for your consciousness. Your brother runs after you as well, shouting at you but you don’t stop although your legs are screaming at you and your breathing too heavy to continue.

You run and continue to do so in a direction you hope would be right without looking back, not daring to turn and see whether your brother catches up to you though the footsteps had been fading. Alas, you come to a stop.

You take the last few steps and finally reach the front door of the vast house. Your knuckles rap on the door rapidly, only now turning to see behind your shoulder to check whether your brother manages to follow you. You don’t see him but you can’t sigh in relief as well because if the owner of this house you’re knocking on now doesn’t open his door right at that moment, you’re sure you’re going to die.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing at 2AM?”

There he is.

Park Jimin opens the door, eyes slightly scrunched from sleepiness and hair disheveled. He takes in your state and his eyes immediately widens.

“I’ll do it.” You say, still panting heavily. “I’ll do it. The marriage.”

Link to Chapter 4

Posted on 220329 9:00PM

#serendipityjxmn #serendipityjxmnmrpresident #mrpresident #bts fic #jimin fic #jimin au #park jimin #parkjimin #jimin smut #smut #kpop #mafia #jimin mafia #ceo jimin #bts smut #bts au #bts mafia

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justthehiddleswrites · 4 years

Text

Follow My Lead | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 4 | I don’t think you are supposed to giggle at Tolstoy.

A/N: This will update every Thursday. There are 13 chapters. There are all sorts of kinds of D/s relationships. This is the one I choose to write this time.

MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Vivian Swann)

Summary: Tom and Vivian have both been unlucky in love, searching for something outside of the bounds of a typical relationship. When the two of them connect via a dating app, Tom is introduced to the idea of being submissive to Vivian. Which is the one thing he never knew he needed. Under the firm hand of Vivian, Tom learns what it means to submit and Vivian learns what it means to be in a loving dominant relationship. But not everyone seems to understand what they have and the best intentions can destroy the strongest relationship.

Warnings for story: Dominant/submissive relationship (sub!Tom), lots of smut including but not limited to: vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), edging, denial, teasing, use of restraints, spanking, multiple orgasm, anal play, use of toys.

Tag Lists Are Open! Let me know if you want to be added. Thank you for reading!

Tom slept like a rock that night. The best night’s sleep in a long time. He dreamed of Vivian, kneeling on his chest, kissing him, teasing him, biting him. And he woke that morning with his cock hard and leaking. He stroked himself as he thought about Vivian. But not in the way he usually did. Instead of fantasizing of her touching him, sucking his cock, jerking him off, Tom closed his eyes and imagined his lips on Vivian’s folds and clit. Her hands in his hair tugging his head where she wants it. Vivian moaning in response to his touch, his tongue. As her pleasure increases, Tom’s motions in real life increased. Tom came with a soft gasp, spurting along his torso. He panted, trying to catch his breath. Once he regained his composure, he headed to the shower to clean himself up and go for a jog.

Vivian rapped her nails on the desk in her flat. Her email open on the screen. She was drafting the proposed protocols for Saturday to Tom, and she contemplated on how far to push him. So far, Tom exceeded all Vivian’s expectations. Which worried her. In the past, all men have been eager to please, at first. But once the shiny new wore off, and the men realized the relationship wasn’t about her fulfilling their fantasies of kinky sex and it was about surrendering to her authority, they ran. Sometimes without further word. It wasn’t the incompatibility that bothered Vivian, but the coldness in which they communicated it. As though she was without feeling or emotion. This caused her to assign the reading at the beginning, to move more cautiously. And she wasn’t sure if her heart could handle a rejection from Tom.

With a sigh, she typed out to Tom:

This is a date for the sole purpose of kissing. No food, no drink, no chitchat, no reading, no hanging out.

In short: Kissing, petting, stroking and all the things come along with that- yes. Talking, sex, orgasms- no.

Here is a list of what may happen, not what will happen. If anything bothers you or off limits, let me know.

- Kissing, obviously. Let me know of any spots that are off limits.

- Shirt off

- Pants off (underwear on)

-Nudity (you, not me)

- Kneeling

- Blindfold

- Light bondage (cuffs- both wrists and ankles, tied to the bed)

- Biting

-Bruises on your body (both in places normally covered by clothing and places it would be visible such as the neck)

- All over body touching (let me know of body parts off limits)

- All over body licking (same as above)

- Roles reversed (you touching/licking me)

- Hands around your throat (gentle not choking)

- Hair pulling

- Fingers in your mouth (not gagging)

- Body-slapping

- Pinching

And I think I covered everything. Wear a button-down (I like when you undo the top few buttons) and jeans or slacks. Send me a photo of what your current underwear options are. I will send you your address that morning. I expect you at 7.

Vivian

She smiled as she re-read the email. She buzzed with anticipation at the possibilities of Saturday night. Vivian was certain she would cuff and restrain Tom, and not just because he had the tendency to squirm underneath her. She suspected it would push a button and was eager to test her theory. She hit click and headed off to work.

Tom was eating breakfast, having finished his morning run when his phone dinged with a new email from Vivian. He read through her email and swallowed hard. The list was extensive. He re-read before finishing up breakfast and heading upstairs and digging through his underwear drawer. Tom had three options laid out on the bed. He snapped a photo of them laid out on the bed. He examined the photo, unhappy.

“Might as well.” he commented to himself as he stripped down and pulled on the first pair, navy boxers.

Tom stood in front of the full-length mirror in the closet and snapped a photo. He hated to admit he may have flexed a bit in the photo. He repeated the process with the white underwear briefs, and the black Calvin Klein boxer briefs. Pleased with the photos, Tom typed back to Vivian.

Wow, that is quite the comprehensive list. I appreciate the thoroughness and the bullet points. I am not scheduled for any meetings until Wednesday, so any marks will have faded by then. My feet are ticklish. Probably shouldn’t tell you that. ;) And I would rather not have my armpits or the inside of my ears licked. Otherwise, I am game for whatever you want.

I have attached photos of the underwear, per your request. And if there is anything else I can do to be of service, please let me know, ma’am.

Your sunshine boy,

Tom

He attached the photos and sent the email and then returned to dressing for the day, flopping on the bed to return the last two books on his list before starting his essay.

Vivian was pleased Tom modeled the underwear rather than just lay them out of the bed. She probably would have directed him to model them. She wrinkled her nose at the first pic and flicking through the rest.

Black boxer briefs. Burn or throw away the tighty whities. If I find a pair in your home, I will punish you. Let’s change our night time call to 9:00 p.m. from now on. I hate keeping you up so late.

She placed the phone down on her desk. It buzzed almost immediately.

Consider them burned. 9 p.m. works for me, although I don’t mind waiting up if it means I get to hear your voice. :) I shall wait with bated breath until Saturday.

The rest of the day seemed to fly by for both of them and before long, Tom was settled into bed with both his books of collected poetry and Anna Karenina. He called on time and Vivian asked for him to read more of Tolstoy. He started doing voices of the characters, in particular an exaggerated Russian accent for Levin and Vronsky.

“I don’t think you are supposed to giggle at Tolstoy.” Vivian commented after one particularly dramatic passage.

“I’m a full service entertainer. Comedy, drama, action, romance.” Tom teased back.

“What about erotica?” she teased right back, her voice low.

Tom paused. “For you? Without question.” She could hear the hesitation, fear, and excitement in his voice. She hoped it would remain.

Vivian sighed. “I think it is enough reading for tonight. I want you to get a good night’s rest for tomorrow.”

“Yes ma’am.” he responded.

“Goodnight, Tom, my sunshine.”

“Goodnight, Vivian.”

They ended the call, and both drifted off to sleep.

Vivian attended her weekly blowout appointment, not realizing Tom spent the day as a bundle of nerves. He ran ten miles hoping to burn off excess energy. It didn’t work. The only thing he did was finish the last of the books from Vivian’s list. The fastest ever read through anything in some time. He was too distracted to write his essay, thought swirling in his brain. Tom wants it to be perfect. He wants everything to be perfect for Vivian.

Tom must have tried on at least six different shirts, each discarded on the bed as unsuitable. He settles on a soft, well worn light blue shirt. One of his favorites. The collar is fraying at the corners, which is why he doesn’t wear out as much anymore, favoring instead newer but less comfortable shirts. He grabbed a pair of jeans only to notice a hole on the inside of the thigh and discarded them also on the bed, grabbing a different pair. Tom left the top two buttons undone, a calculated air of casual. A quick dab of cologne and then he waited, not wanting to arrive too early.

After her morning errands, Vivian ate a light lunch and set about preparing her flat for Tom. She made up the bed with fresh linens and double checked the restraint points on the posts. She hadn’t decided on a leg position, so Vivian placed straps on all the corners as well as the point in the middle. Vivian opened the nightstand and retrieved the cuffs, adjusting them and placing them prominently in the foyer on a table. Cuffing Tom would be among the first things she did that night. In addition, she laid out a blindfold on the nightstand and put a bottle of water there too. After bathing, she slipped into a simple silk tank and striped shorts. She wore the same wedges as before. Vivian enjoyed looking Tom in the eye while standing and kissing. A quick dab of perfume behind the ears and settled on the couch, watching some TV waiting for Tom.

He knocked on her door, ten minutes early. Acceptably early without fear of being so early that he disturbed preparations.

“I couldn’t wait any longer.” Tom commented.

Vivian giggled. His eagerness was endearing. “I’ll allow it. Come in.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He stepped into her flat, looking around in wonder. Vivian grabbed him by the chin and kissed him hard.

“Do you still remember your word, sunshine?”

“Yes.” Tom is already breathing hard. “Sushi.”

She smiled and slid her hand down around Tom’s neck. His Adam’s apple moving underneath her palm. His eyes widened in fear. Vivian kissed him again. He leaned forward when she stepped back. She walked around him, fingers tracing the planes of his body, his broad shoulders, defined pecs and abs. Vivian gave his ass a playful swat. Tom yelped and staggered forward.

“Such a nice ass, sunshine.” She growled in his ear, grabbing it with her nails.

“Thank you, ma’am.” his voice shook. He wasn’t used to being manhandled, and his cock appreciated the rough touch.

“Shirt and pants off.” She stepped back to watch him undressed.

Tom’s cheeks blushed. He had been nearly nude in a room of strangers before, but under Vivian’s glare, he never felt so exposed. Tom tugged his shirt over his head, not bothering to undo the buttons this time. He folded the shirt, placing it on the nearby table while he slipped his shoes and socks off, and slipping his jeans down his lean legs. Vivian licked her lips at Tom in his underwear. While the man appeared fit clothed, he was something carved from marble without the clothes. He flashed a lopsided smile as he placed his jeans on top of his shirt and folding his hands in front of him, obscuring his crotch.

“God, you are beautiful.” Vivian hissed as she stepped forward to kiss him again. Tom hummed back at the praise, his body growing warm. She nipped at his lower lip, nibbling rather than biting, sending shocks through his body. “Wrists, please.”

Vivian moved to the table. Tom’s arms shot out. She grabbed the leather cuffs and put them on. Tom jerked back his arms.

“What are those?” His brows furrowed.

“Cuffs. Wrists.” Her tone sharp. Tom hesitated, his mouth opening to protest. “Sunshine, wrists.” she snapped.

“Yes, ma’am.” He reluctantly held out his wrists. She tightened the cuffs, making sure they wouldn’t chafe.

Tom twisted his wrists back and forth, testing out the weight and listening to the rings thudding against the thick leather. Vivian kissed him again, hands sliding down his torso. His cock jumped. She grabbed the back of his neck and led him towards the bedroom. Tom gulped at the blindfold and straps.

“Ah…” he started before being cut off by Vivian’s lips on his neck. “Oh!” he moaned. She laved and sucked hard, removing her lips with a pop, satisfied at the dark mark already formed.

“On the bed, sunshine. On your back.” Tom scrambled onto the bed, lying flat on his back. As Vivian slipped the cuffs on Tom’s ankles, he jerked back. She raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, ma’am.”

“Good boy.”

She slipped her shoes off and then hooked his ankle cuffs to the straps in the middle of the bed. As Vivian strolled to the head of the bed, she ran a nail up Tom’s leg. He jerked against the restraints. She grabbed his arm and clipped it onto the strap before crawling onto the bed, reaching over to clip in the other side, her breasts grazing Tom’s body. His hips bucked.

“So squirmy, sunshine. Best I did tie you up.” Vivian straddled his chest, pushing him into the mattress. “I can’t let you get away just yet.” She pressed against his lips softly, earning a sigh. Her teeth worried his lower lip.

“Ow.” he mock protested.

Nevertheless, Vivian let go of his lip and trailed down his neck. She licked the bruise from earlier before moving down to his collarbone. Vivian sucked and nipped, leaving the twin to the neck’s bruise there. She smiled at her handiwork. Tom struggled against the restraints.

“They have held stronger men than you, sunshine.” Vivian dragged her nails down his sides, leaving faint lines. As she settled by his hips, Tom’s cock pressed against her. Tom huffed and puffed as she kissed his Adonis belt, scraping her teeth along his skin from time to time. Her hands stroked along his thighs and he flexed under her touch.

She slid off of Tom’s body, and he whined at the lack of contact. Vivian rolled back on top of Tom, lying along his full body like a blanket. Tom sighed at the weight and contact. She pressed her cheek to his chest, listening to his heart race. She snaked a hand to the back of his head and jerked his head sideways before kissing him. Tom met her lips with hunger and he whimpered each time she pulled away, only to tug him towards her again. He strained against the restraints, desperate to touch her, to pull her tight against him and rut against her. His tongue slipped into her mouth, needy, exploring every inch. He moaned as Vivian’s grip tightened on his hair, hurting, but he wanted more.

Vivian could sense Tom coming close to overheating, making a mess and complicating the hell out of this. His cock strained, hard and weeping. She pulled away, holding his lower lip between her teeth as long as possible, stretching it.

“Ow.” Tom muttered.

Vivian slid down to press against Tom’s side. She cupped her cheek before gently kissing behind Tom’s ear. Tom moaned softly from the back of his throat. Her fingers twisted into his hair and she massaged his scalp. Tom’s shoulders relaxed and his hands loosened from the fists. As she scratched and petted him, he leaned into her touch, his breath slowing to a deep and even pace. He closed his eyes, enjoying the soft touch.

“You are so beautiful, my sunshine.” She cooed at him. Her other finger tracing his jaw and cheekbone. “So pretty.” She kissed his cheek and stroked his chest.

“Thank you, ma’am.” His voice breathy and floaty.

Vivian reached over and unhooked Tom’s wrist. She turned and unhooked his other wrist. Tom didn’t move. She stood to unhook his ankles.

“Legs up, please.” Tom lifted his legs into the air. Vivian undid the cuffs, rubbing the skin and massaging it. She kissed the top of his feet and Tom giggled and squirmed. “You weren’t joking about being ticklish.”

“No, ma’am.” He slowly floated back to reality.

“Sit up, please.” Tom rocked up, his hair a rumpled mess, and held out his wrists. Vivian smoothed out his hair and held the back of his neck while she kissed his cheek and lips a few more times. She released him and unbuckled the wrist cuffs, rubbing his wrists and kissing each one and placed them on the nightstand and grabbed the water bottle, handing it to Tom.

“Thank you.” He opened the bottle and took a large swig. Vivian smoothed his hair back one more time.

“Let’s go get dressed, sunshine.” He sighed, taking another swig of water before standing. Vivian slipped her wedges back on and walked beside Tom, rubbing his neck the entire time. “I was a bit rough on you. Are you okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” His voice quiet while he grabbed his jeans and tugged them on before pulling on his shirt, tucking it and zipping up.

“How did it feel? I imagine you are used to being treated with kid gloves.”

Tom pulled on his socks and shoes, working on finding the right words.

“I don’t quite know how it felt.” Tom replied, a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth. “But I know I didn’t want it to stop. I didn’t mind the pain. I wanted to touch you and make you feel as good as you made me feel.”

Vivian smiled and pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tight. “Sunshine, I feel good. I received great pleasure at teasing you.” She kissed him. “With my mouth. And watching you squirm and hearing you purr.” She petted the back of his head. “But I appreciate your desire to please me physically. And you will when the time comes.”

Tom stared at her with his endless blue eyes. “When will that be, ma’am?”

“When you’re ready, Sunshine.” She kissed his cheek. “You still haven’t finished your homework first.”

Tom’s hands fidgeted, twisting in front of him. “I finished all the books. I plan on starting the essay tomorrow.” He stared at the floor. “I want it to be perfect.”

“As long as it is from your heart it will be, my sunshine boy.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I don’t ask for perfection, just effort.”

Tom nodded and squeezed her hand back. “Yes, ma’am.”

She walked him to the door, kissing him one more time. “Call me in the morning when you wake up.”

Tom nodded. “Thank you for tonight.”

“You are welcome. The pleasure was mine.”

Tom smiled and kissed Vivian’s cheek and headed out. She clicked the door shut and set about cleaning up the place. Tom came home and ate a sandwich before turning in early that evening, his brain still fuzzy.

As requested, Tom called in the morning, still in bed, to check in with Vivian. It pleased her that outside of the marks on his neck and collarbone, Tom was no worse for wear. Tom left out the part of the dreams he had or the fact he woke up with a raging hard on which Tom took care of in the shower, skipping his run for thirty minutes on his long neglected rowing machine.

Tom lazed about for most of the morning, having something akin to a hangover without the benefit of being drunk beforehand. As he sat down at this computer to start his essay for Vivian, there was a knock on the door. He groaned as he trudged to see who would dare disturb his lazy Sunday.

A smiling Benedict greeted him at the door. When he saw Tom in workout gear, he frowned.

“You’re not dressed!” he complained.

“For what?” Tom blinked back at him. He didn’t recall making plans.

“Lunch!” Benedict stepped in the foyer. “We made plans weeks ago. I’ll wait for you to change.”

Tom was ready to protest, but Ben crossed his arms and it was clear he wasn’t leaving without Tom. With a huff, Tom discarded his clothes into the bedroom which now had a small pile of discarded and dirty clothes, and grabbed an old gray v neck t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Shoving his feet into a pair of boots, Tom stomped back to Ben, pushing past him.

“Let’s go.” Tom grumbled.

Tom’s mood improved once he ordered some food and got half a pint into his system. Benedict stared at him, squinting.

“What?” Tom asked, still irritated.

“What is that on your neck?” He pointed at Tom’s neck. Tom twisted it, and then Ben spied the second mark on his collarbone. “And your chest? Were you attacked?”

Tom touched his collarbone and remembered. He blushed. “It’s nothing. Forget it.” He gulped down the other half of his pint and stood. “Let me go get another round.”

Benedict held out his arm to stop Tom. “It’s like you were bitten by someth… Oh… OH!” The lightbulb went off. “Things going well with Vivian?”

Tom rolled his eyes. “Yes.” He sidestepped Ben’s arm and grabbed another pint before returning to the table.

“Care to share?” He prodded.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Moving on.” Tom grew more homicidal by the second.

Benedict clapped his hands together. “Remember how Sophie wrangled me into serving on the children’s hospital charity board?”

“Yes.” Tom saw the Cheshire Cat grin on Ben’s face. “No. No! I went last year and got cornered by that old lady who kept calling me ‘Henry’.”

“It was endearing.”

“It was ridiculous.”

“There’s an open bar.”

“Hard pass.”

“I have two tickets. You can bring Vivian.”

Tom stared at his friend. “I am not introducing you to Vivian.”

“Why not?”

“Because I like her and I’m afraid you will scare her off.”

Benedict scoffed. “I have never…” He clutched his chest in dramatic fashion. “… never scared anyone off.”

“Alice, Catherine, Eva…” Tom counted off on his fingers. “… I can go on.”

“None of them met my high standards. Please come.” he begged. “Sophie will kill me if you don’t come.”

“The thought of your death is tempting.”

The waiter set the food down.

“Tom…” Benedict dropped all pretense. “… please come. I promise I will be on my best behavior.”

Tom’s head dropped. “Give me the details. I will check with Vivian tonight when I call her.”

Benedict’s lips pursed. “Really? I can’t wait to meet her. Especially someone who leaves marks like that on you. Sounds like she is yours for the taking.”

“Yeah.” Tom mumbled as he took a bite of his food.

Tom called her at 9 p.m. like always.

“Sunshine, how was your Sunday?” she asked.

“Speaking of that…” Tom started, and she noticed the nerves in his voice. “What are you doing next Friday evening?”

She thought about it for a moment. “I believe I’m free. Do you have any ideas?”

Tom exhaled sharply. “I’ve been invited to a charity event by Benedict and I have two tickets, and I was wondering if you would like to come with me.” He blurted it all out in one big run-on sentence.

Vivian paused before laughing. “Wow, you were really nervous about that, weren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am. Everything is still so new and I don’t… I don’t want to mess this up.”

“You are just the sweetest, sunshine. You know that right? Beautiful and sweet. Yes, I will go with you.”

Tom beamed. “How would everything work?”

“Like any date would. We go, we drink, we dance and mingle.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, darling. We can set some rules that work for both of us. okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now, read to me please.”

Tom grabbed the book.

Tom and Vivian agreed he would pick out three outfit options, but Vivian would come over ahead of time and make the final choice. They would not use pet names and instead would do what is natural. Tom asked that she still rub the back of his neck.

“It calms me down.” he commented.

“Of course, sunshine. I like when you are calm. You are more attentive that way.”

It was now the day of the event and Vivian sat on Tom’s bed, noticing the clutter. Tom was modeling the second outfit.

“I don’t like the tie. Let’s see the last one.”

Tom undid the tie and shirt and grabbed the last option. It was a double-breasted blue pinstripe suit with a blue shirt and navy tie. He did a little spin.

“That one.” Vivian stood and straightened his tie and petted his neck before squeezing his ass. “Your ass looks amazing in those trousers.”

Tom blushed again. “Thank you, ma’am.”

She kissed his cheek, wiping away her gloss. “Remember, no names, now let’s go.”

Tom was more at ease with Vivian by his side. Her reassuring touch at the back of his neck or even his shoulder grounded him. Not to mention, she dazzled everyone she met. Now for the big test.

“Benedict, Sophie, meet Vivian Swann. Vivian meet Benedict Cumberbatch, notorious troublemaker, and his queen of a wife, Sophie Hunter.”

Vivian shook each of their hands, holding tight to Tom’s but leaning in for a kiss on the cheek by Ben. Tom tightened his grip. She suppressed a giggle.

“Charmed. Thank you so much for inviting me. I have been looking into getting the firm involved in more charity work and the children’s ward is an enticing option.”

“Firm?” Sophie questioned.

“Watkins, Price, and Forbes. I work in their corporate law division.”

Benedict let loose a low whistle.

“Tom, you didn’t tell me you were dating a pit bull.” Sophie commented. “Impressive.”

Vivian smiled. “I prefer the term ‘velvet hammer’ but pit bull works. “

“How did you and Tom meet?” Ben interjected.

Tom paled, but Vivian didn’t miss a beat.

“The Bloomsbury Club. We bonded over a shared loved for Macallan 18-year-old aged whisky.”

Tom cleared his throat. “Right. Why don’t we take a seat?” He gestured at their reserved table.

“Your feet must be killing you in those shoes, Vivian. After having kids, I just can’t stand wearing them, but if I want to see eye to eye with this one.” She gestured at Benedict.

“Guilty.” He shrugged. “Although not as tall as the Frost Giant over there.”

Tom paused as he pulled out Vivian’s chair for her.

“I don’t mind the heels.” Vivian responded. “It is all what you get used to. Besides, I enjoy towering over people.” she giggled.

“Champagne?” the waiter offered.

“No, it makes her sneeze.” Tom commented.

“Get me a glass of white wine, please?” Vivian gazed up at him.

Tom smiled down and kissed her cheek. “Yes, of course, darling.”

“Sophie?”

Benedict and Sophie blinked at the two of them.

“Uh… yes a white wine sounds fantastic. Thank you, Tom.”

Tom nodded and headed off to the bar. Sophie elbowed Benedict in the ribs. He shuffled to his feet.

“Tom, let me help you with that!” He called after his friend.

Sophie waited until both men were out of earshot.

“How did you… I don’t want to know. You’re not like Tom’s other girlfriends, Miss Vivian Swann.”

She smiled. “I’m not sure if that is a compliment or an insult. So I will say thank you.”

“Definitely a compliment. There is something different about Tom when he is around you. He seems…”

“… happy?”

“Yes, but the word is content.” Sophie added. “Content, at peace. After that last nasty breakup, the man could use a little peace and quiet.”

“Hopefully not too quiet.” Vivian smirked.

“Are you two gossiping about us?” Benedict teased.

“I was just telling Vivian how happy and content our dear Thomas looks with her.” Sophie quipped.

Tom blushed as Vivian smiled and reached out to rub his neck. “I am. Thank you for noticing Sophie.”

The evening wound down. Tom for once enjoyed the event. Vivian won over Benedict and Sophie, so much so that Sophie invited her to go shopping tomorrow afternoon while she wrangled Benedict and Tom in tearing down a shed in Ben’s yard.

“Leave them to grunt work while we shop.”

“I would love to.” Vivian sipped at her wine.

The two couples said goodbye while waiting for the valet. Benedict hugged Vivian tight and kissed her cheek. While Sophie and her exchanged numbers. Benedict pulled Tom to the side.

“There’s something different about you, man.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about. I’m still me.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“No,” Ben folded his hands in front of his face. “there is definitely a change. And I think it has something to do with that enchanting woman over there, who I am sure is being tortured with baby pictures by my wife.”

“Perhaps.” Tom replied cryptically.

“Don’t fuck it up man. You will never find another girl…”

“Woman.” he corrected his friend.

“… Woman like her. You deserved a little happiness.”

“Tom?” Vivian placed her hand on his back. “The car’s here.”

“Of course. Ben.” He shook his friend’s hand and then hugged Sophie before opening the door for Vivian and then getting in and driving off.

“I’m going to head home.” Vivian stated when they got back to Tom’s home.

“Okay. I had a lot of fun tonight. It wasn’t nearly as dreadful with you there.”

“Your friends are a delight. They really do want the best for you, sunshine.”

Tom smiled at the name. “Yes, ma’am.” He fell back into the old pattern.

She grabbed the back of his head and tugged him into a kiss. Tom wrapped his arms around her and did his best to hold her tight. She pulled away, and he whined.

“I’m ready to take this to the next step, Vivian. I want to please you.” His hands ghosted over his shoulders. “In all ways.”

She smiled. “Send me the essay and we will talk. How about lunch tomorrow?”

“I will send it as soon as I step inside. I could cook you lunch here.”

“I would like that, sunshine.” She kissed him one more time. “Sleep well.”

“Yes, ma’am. You too.”

She smiled and walked to her car to head home. Tom stepped inside and rushed to his computer. He did a quick spell check on the essay he had been tweaking over the last week and clicked send.

“There.”

Vivian laughed as her phone beeped before she even left Tom’s driveway, knowing it was Tom’s homework.

“So eager. I like that.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston smut #hiddlesfic #tom hiddleston series #follow my lead

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fnf-brain-rot · 3 years

Text

back in the day

Boyfriend held onto his microphone with a strong grip, staring down at the dulled, black surface that triggered memories in his mind. this wasn't the mic he used in his everyday quests of rap battling, no. this was, what he used to call, his battle mic. It was a pretty lame name, but now it holds loads of sentimental value.

Back when he and Pico were dating, yes he dated in his middle school, his parents couldn't tell him he wasn't allowed to, he would often hang out with his friends, Nene and Darnell. He actually enjoyed Pico's friends a lot. Nene helped get him in touch with his feminine side, and Darnell would give him guys talk about things Pico hated talking about. Being together with them had its downsides of course. he was occasionally dragged into their hijinks, which would get him pretty beat up. He and Pico even argued over it. Boyfriend didn't mind, he thought it was cool in all honesty, but Pico didn't want him getting hurt anymore, and his parents might start noticing the cuts and bruises. It gave Boyfriend a bright idea.

________________________________________________________________________________

"Mom! I'm heading out!"

"Okay sweetie! Be back BEFORE ten, okay?"

Bee rolled his eyes, then closed the front door of his home behind him. He had a bright idea. A dangerous one, but it was totally smart. He skated his way down to the lesser developed area of Newgrounds City, which already put him in a bit of danger. He was the brightest thing there. Stopping near an old, rusty bus drop off, he took out his phone. Maybe he should tell the others he was there, just in case anything went wrong. He stopped himself though. Nene would panic and tell Darnell and Pico. Darnell would doubt the idea and tell Pico. And Pico... He would come down there himself just to chew him out.

he shook his head to clear his thoughts, then pocketed his phone. He was already there. there was no point in going back.

He had a couple hours to put his new skills to the test. Did he start training only a week ago? yes. Was he impatient to prove himself? Very much so. Was this a good idea? Hm.. probably not, but he'll get nowhere if he doesn't believe in himself!

He set down his board, then began his walk down to the little ice cream parlor a couple minutes from him. He remembered Pico saying something about it swarming with Uberkids. This was his ticket. He held his microphone tight in his sweaty palms. it seemed like the parlor was the only thing using power around here. All the other buildings were either dark, devoid of life, or destroyed, as if fires have been set and holes have been blasted through the walls.

He stepped foot at the door, already feeling the refreshing cool air brushing against him from the other side of the glass. He swallowed hard, then pulled the door open. He couldn't see anyone behind the counter. That alone made him nervous. "H..Hello?" His voice quivered, despite his best attempt to sound tough. Standing in front of the selection of ice cream is when he noticed a kid his height standing there. It was one of them.

Boyfriend smiled nervously. these guys don't really talk huh? He gripped his microphone to comfort himself. He was now realizing he didn't really have a plan, and he was mostly daydreaming about kicking ass on the way there, but now this felt super stupid. Maybe they won't wanna fight? "Uh.. hi? Can I get a chocolate mint ice cream?" Maybe ice cream would make him feel better. The other was about to comply with his order, but seemed to stop, staring into Boyfriend's eyes for longer than he was comfortable with. No doubt they knew him, he was literally always with Pico.

the way he recoiled confirmed his thoughts, and before he knew it, he had a gun pointed at him. "Bad idea.." bee murmured before immediately ducking as a shot was fired in his previous position. "Oh shit! Shit!" He scrambled off the floor, making a run for the front doors, which he kicked open with his foot. He could hear the uberkid chasing him down, firing shot after shot at his moving target.

Boyfriend ducked behind a dumpster for cover. His hands were shaking, and he felt like he was about to collapse. Wait no, he knew what this was. Adrenaline. He could call Pico.. Or he could handle this himself and prove he was fine with the other three. Right. He's not being brushed off anymore.

He waited for footsteps, hearing them get closer and closer to his location. Right when he saw the shadow, he flung himself out into the open. he heard gunfire, and felt a searing pain in his shoulder, but he ignored it. In one swift motion, he threw his mic at the kid, then yoinked it back. He had his eyes closed, so he had no idea what he really did, but when he opened them, he was holding the kid's gun.

"Ha! Hahaaa!!" Boyfriend laughed triumphantly, but quickly made more distance between him and the approaching opponent. He flung his mic again, pulling the cord down. The solid object made direct contact with the other's skull, tripping him up and flinging him face first into the pavement. With a wide grin, Boyfriend dropped the gun, then kicked it away behind him. "Not so useless now, am I?" He put his hands on his hips, but wasn't prepared for the next act.

The uberkid lifted himself up on shaky arms, and pulled a whistle from his pocket.

oh no..

"Oh! Wait! nono please!" Boyfriend held his hands up, but the shrill sound of the whistle cut him off. He knew what that meant. He could already feel the buildings around him come to life. They were probably waiting for the signal this whole time. Maybe they thought he had Pico, Nene, and Darnell with him.

He's really starting to think he should have called them.

Boyfriend began running without a second thought, passing the barely conscious kid on the ground. He needed to get to his board. he needed to get out of here.

He pulled out his phone and pressed on the first contact he could see. Pico. Oh great, now he had to get yelled at. he pressed call, hearing the gun fire begin to echo around the decrepit walls of the broken down area. Pico picked up on the second ring, a yawn following right after. "Bee-"

"I'M BEING CHASED BY UBERKIDS AND THEY'RE SHOOTING AT ME!!"

Silence crept between them for a moment before Pico responded, his voice dripping with a stern, serious tone. "Where are you." Boyfriend cried out at the feeling of another bullet grazing him, almost tripping over his foot. "Downtown! Near the ice cream parlor!" He heard Pico sigh heavily. "We're on our way. Get behind something." With that, the ginger hung up the phone.

Boyfriend felt relief wash over him at the news of backup on its way, however it was short lived when he felt a solid hit in his left arm. He gasped out in pain, the spot immediately boiling with heat. He tried to focus on his skate board but.. Oh god, they were already there.. he skidded to a halt, but quickly moved in a different direction. he hoped to god this alleyway didn't have a dead end. He tripped over an open garbage bag, tumbling over and rolling into a brick wall, hitting the back of his head.

His vision swirled, and he was in so much pain. He bit back tears and tried to stay quiet, doing that thing he saw Pico do when he got shot. he ripped off a piece of his shirt, then tied it around the wound. The pain was unbearable, but he had to be tough.

The gunfire stopped, supposedly because they didn't know where he was. All he had was his microphone.. It wasn't really a weapon.. But it could be.. He looked around, squeezing the hand of his injured arm. The sooner he got used to the pain, the sooner he could fight. Drawing in a breath, he stood up, suppressing the urge to curl up in a ball to wait for his saviors.

There stood two uberkids, thankfully unarmed, but still looked dangerous. He was quick to jump forward, throwing out his mic. The force of the sling wrapped the object around one of their necks, and with all his force, Boyfriend gave it a hard tug. He made direct contact with his opponent's face with the top of his head, hearing the crunch of his breaking nose. The buddy he was patrolling with quickly ran to help, grabbing Boyfriend by the shoulders, and the blue haired struggled against his grip.

He then smacked his head up into the uberkids' jaw, then kicked his leg up at his crotch, causing the clone to double over. "When Pico gets here you guys are FUCKED." He threatened them through grit teeth, kicking away the one in front of him. He didn't have it in him to kill them like the others did. If anything he just hoped he knocked them unconscious.

He breathed out as the two bodies collapsed under him. The adrenaline really did do wonders huh.. He limped his way out of the alley way to get to his skateboard, hopefully it was less crowded-

The moment he stepped out he saw a good five of these wastes of science grants running his way. "Son of a-" He began to back track, almost stumbling backward into the wall to hide. Welp, at least he did some cool fighting shit before he died. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the sounds of gunfire to end his life.

Well, it didn't.. kill him when he heard it.

he cracked an eye open as blood splattered onto the pavement in front of him, but it wasn't his. He turned the corner to see no other than Nene, who jumped in the middle of them for dramatic affect. Pico covered her from some ways back, gradually making his way toward the scrap. It wasn't too long until Boyfriend heard an explosion, surprisingly nearby. He often forgets how bloody these fights are.

"Nene..!" Bee quickly rushes toward her, surprising both her and Pico. "Bee, wait!" The ginger yelled out, but Boyfriend didn't listen. The blue haired boy held up a hand for Pico to hold his fire, then threw his microphone to wrap around the neck of one minion about to grab Nene from behind. he tugged to give himself a speed boost, then lifted his legs to collide with his stomach, knocking him to the ground, the shorter standing on top.

"Wow Bee, where'd you learn that?" Nene smiled, impressed, and Boyfriend couldn't help but breathe out a laugh. "It's why I'm here." He admitted to her.

With all the immediate ubers handled, Darnell came down from one of the already destroyed buildings, seeming giddy as hell while Nene checked Boyfriend for any wounds. "Holy shit Bf! I saw what you did! Where the fuck did you learn to fight like that??" He clapped the boy on the back, which made him wince painfully, and the taller muttered an apology with another laugh. Pico was quiet, as to be expected. "Did you know you got shot in the leg?"

"I what."

Boyfriend looked down to see blood oozing out of his calf. Oh wow, he hadn't even felt it.

"N..No I didn't know that." He felt the pain wash over him though when he looked at out. "Wow that hurts!" He forced himself to laugh at it, and Nene and Darnell happily lent him their shoulders to limp on. "Let's go, before he loses too much blood." Pico muttered, walking over to the rusty bench and grabbing his skateboard. Boyfriend already know how this talk was gonna go..

________________________________________________________________________________

The three kids easily helped boyfriend patch up his wounds. The worst hurdle was taking the bullets out of his arm and leg. He had to bite down on a towel for that.

Pico had him lie down on his bed, the boy no wearing one of his sweaters and a pair of his boxers since he had to shower. He texted his mom to ask if he could stay at Pico's, and being the understanding mother she was, she allowed it.

"Get better soon, okay Bee?" Nene waved as she walked out of Pico's bedroom, Darnell playfully saluting him. With those two gone, Boyfriend grew tense, watching Pico walk into his bathroom to clean up everything they used to dress his wounds. He felt bad about making them do all this. He knew it was his own fault he got in trouble like that. He should endure the punishment.

Pico came back, turning the light off as he left the room. Without a word, he sat down on his bed, then turned to look at Bee. They stared at each other for a moment, and Boyfriend's cheeks began to redden. Now wasn't the time to faun over his boyfriend-

"Uh.. I'm sorry.." He started, looking away in embarrassment. He couldn't read Pico's expression, and frankly he didn't want to. Pico put a hand on his face, drawing a slow breath, then letting it out. "bee, you could have gotten seriously hurt."

"I know I know! I just.. I wanted to.." Pico grunted before he could finish. "You wanted to put yourself in danger to, what, prove a point? What's the point in doing that if you might not live to prove it to people?!" Boyfriend flinched as he raised his voice, then winced at the dull throb he was met with from moving so suddenly. Pico sighed again, and without warning, leaned forward to gently hug onto Boyfriend's torso. The smaller's eyes widened, and his heartbeat increased. "I'm just.. glad you're okay. Don't.. Don't do that again, okay?"

Bee smiled brightly as Pico sat up. It always melted his heart when he smiled like that. "I promise! I obviously can't fight on my own like you can." He teased, then whined as Pico flicked his nose. "No dumbass. Since when do I fight armies without backup, huh?" He scoffed, and Boyfriend laughed again, gently rubbing his nose. "Yeah, yeah. I learned my lesson." Pico rolled his eyes. "You better have.." He leaned down and kissed Boyfriend on the forehead. He was dramatic about it, a happy squeal leaving him while the ginger simply rolled his eyes again. He should stop doing that, he could feel his sockets loosening already.

________________________________________________________________________________

Bee smiled at the memory. He was lucky enough to get away without any scars. Meeting Pico this week was tough. he could barely explain to Girlfriend why he started crying after that. He wasn't ready to tell her about it yet. He would soon though, he doesn't like hiding stuff. He loves her too much.

.......

"You up?"

The phone showed Pico was typing for a while.

"Ya, why"

"I wanna talk"

#friday night funkin #fnfboyfriend #pico #Picos school #nene pico's school #Darnell pico's school

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five-rivers · 4 years

Text

Cold Case

So, this is a continuation of Interview With a Ghost, my corpse AU. Sort of. Lots of outsider perspective.

But, I’m too lazy to hunt down the tumblr links. So. Here’s the AO3 link to the series.

McGee braced himself before getting out of his car and walking into the precinct. He’d heard all the jokes before, all the mindless digs at his name, and he liked to think that he’d grown a thick skin in response, but part of him still flinched every time.

Plus, there was a reason he’d been sent to Amity Park. That reason being the incredibly suspicious crime rate. That is, the just shy of nonexistent crime rate. Also, the billionaire mayor that had popped up out of nowhere. And the high road repair and park maintenance bills.

Oh, yeah, and the giant murder investigation that had just. Disappeared.

The county wanted answers. So, they sent McGee. Of course, they didn’t tell the Amity Park Police Department that. As far as they knew, he was just a transfer. Someone being shifted from one department to another.

So, yeah. Bracing. Just like the wind. Ouch, it was cold. McGee wrapped his coat more closely around himself and began jogging through the otherwise deserted parking garage.

The… underground parking garage. Wind?

McGee stopped and turned in place, trying to see where the breeze could have possibly come from. There weren’t exactly any windows down here.

Feeling more cautious, but not knowing why, McGee made his way more slowly to the elevator door and hit the call button. The doors opened immediately. Inside, a speaker tried to play music, but what came out of it was mostly ear-tearing static.

Well. If APPD was getting paid off by a mob or the town was skimming from road funds, they certainly weren’t using their ill-gotten gains on the elevators.

When the doors opened, McGee was hit with a blast of warm air and Christmas music. He kept his face carefully blank. It had only just become December, and the police station was… it was… Well. McGee would have to call it ‘decked out,’ no matter how much he abhorred the phrase.

… Why were there so many menorahs?

“Hey, are you John McGee?”

“Yes, that’s me,” said McGee, turning to face a remarkably plain man in a button-down shirt and a pullover sweater.

The man had a pair of novelty felt antlers on his head. They were decorated with bells. How unprofessional.

“I’m Collins. We’ll probably be working together at some point. Same department.”

“Homicide?”

Collins raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know what you were told, but we don’t have enough homicides to warrant a dedicated homicide department. We get a one or two mysterious deaths every month, but it always turns out to be, like, anaphylaxis or something.” He brought a mug to his lips and sipped slowly. “Mostly we do vice, theft, fraud, and missing persons. Not much of that last one, either. Oh, we had an arson one time. But it turned out it wasn’t really arson. Anyway, let’s get you checked in, and hopefully Patterson will be here by the time Captain Jones is done with you.”

“Patterson?”

“My partner. You know, you being here gives us an odd number of detectives. That’s going to be weird.” He sipped from his mug again. “Maybe we’ll promote someone. Not Cameron Daily, though.” Collins stared into the middle distance. “No. Not Cameron Daily. Love that man. He’s got to stay in tech support.”

“The captain?” prompted McGee.

“Hah. Yeah. You have to brave the secretaries, first.” Collins patted McGee on the shoulder, and McGee suppressed the impulse to shake him off. “Good luck. At least this is going to be a quiet month, right?”

McGee spent what was probably far too much time pondering what Collins had meant by ‘it’s going to be a quiet month.’ Did the APPD’s arrangement with the local criminals (because there had to be an arrangement) include forewarning concerning the crimes they did deign to investigate? Or did they have statistics that indicated December was a low-crime time for Amity Park?

Orientation was highly typical, as far as these things went. The only oddity were the advertisements and promotional pictures for the local tourist trap tapped up all over half the captain’s office. Was the man a fan? Did he believe in that ghost nonsense? Was it some kind of bizarre joke?

At least the Christmas plague hadn’t made it this far.

“Right, now that we’ve got that part out of the way, let’s move on. We normally like an even number of detectives, but the county moved you over so fast we couldn’t get you a partner, and no one is retiring.” Jones rolled his shoulders and fixed McGee with a very sharp gaze. “Do you know why the county was so… insistent with your transfer?”

Ah. So, the captain was suspicious. Time to put that backstory to good use.

“Honestly, sir, I embarrassed someone, and I think they just spun the wheel on how to get rid of me.”

“Mhm. See, usually when they do that, they pick from departments that actually put in requests for extra personnel. We haven’t.”

“I think the main concern was just to keep me away.”

“I see.” The level of suspicion in the man’s eyes did not change. “You’re going to be with Patterson and Collins until you get your feet under you and we decide what to do about the partner situation. If the county will even let us out another detective on payroll. Consider yourself on probation as far as whatever it is you’re doing with the county. Don’t put my detectives in danger.”

“Sir—”

“Whatever excuse you have, I don’t want to hear it. Go talk to Collins. I know you met him. Patterson probably isn’t here yet.”

Collins stood next to a woman in a coat with a long dark braid. Both of their backs were to McGee. He could see that they were talking to one another, making tight little gestures with their hands near their chests. All the other occupants of the room stared at them without a modicum of shame.

“—until he sees his first fight? We’re supposed to babysit him until January? We won’t be able to talk about anything!”

“Well, if you’d been on time, maybe we could have convinced the captain not to—”

Someone behind McGee cleared their throat. Loudly. Collins and the woman turned, sheepishly.

“Oh. McGee. McGee, this is Patterson. Patterson, this is McGee. You’ll be working with us, apparently.”

“Hopefully, I’ll be able to get out of your hair before too long,” said McGee.

“Don’t count on it. How long have you been in town?” asked Patterson.

“Only since yesterday. Why?”

“We’re showing you around,” said Patterson, snatching the antlers from Collins’s head.

“Consider it your last bit of freedom before you’re condemned to paperwork,” said Collins.

Amity Park was odd, McGee decided.

It wasn’t just the clashing but equally enthusiastic Halloween and Christmas decorations, the omnipresent construction, and the worrying number of holes in the road (really, there was no way the road repair budget was actually getting used on the roads). There was something else. Something McGee couldn’t put his finger on. Something—

He did a double-take. Were those two cosplaying the Ghostbusters? Why?

How seriously did these people take their tourist trap nonsense?

“What are Jack and Maddie doing out?” asked Patterson.

“I don’t know,” said Collins. He tilted his head to one side and pulled into a nearby convenience store parking lot. “You’d think they’d be told; December is a quiet month.”

“Mhm. Maybe they didn’t believe it?”

“They can be stubborn sometimes,” mused Collins. “But it would be nice if there was some action.” He pulled the parking brake. “You want to introduce McGee to the local celebrities?”

A look of indescribable disgust appeared on Patterson’s face. “Why don’t you introduce them?”

“I did that last time.”

“No, you didn’t. You rang their doorbell and then ran like the coward you are.”

Collins, without any hint of repentance, shrugged. “Wouldn’t you do the same?”

“This is different,” she protested. “This isn’t just any new resident. This is a coworker. A coworker who isn’t going to see that kind of action for a whole month.”

“Action?” asked McGee. This felt perilously close to what he’d been tasked to find out.

“You’ll find out in a month,” said Collins. “Assuming you last that long.”

McGee frowned, and decided to take another risk and prompt the pair further. “I know you have a low crime rate here,” he said, “but I’m sure there will be something for us to investigate before the end of the month.”

“Well, yeah,” said Collins. “We don’t get paid for doing nothing.”

There was a sharp rap on the window, and everyone jumped. God. It was just some kid. McGee put a hand over his heart and tried not to think too hard about the time he had almost been killed in his car by a dirty cop and his gangster friends.

Collins rolled the window down, letting in a gust of frigid wind.

“Hi, detectives!” chirped the teen. “I heard you got a new guy!”

Oh. That was interesting. Was the local gang using children as in-betweens?

“Yep,” said Patterson. “This is McGee. McGee, this is Danny, the only sane Fenton.”

Danny tipped his head to the side and squinted. “I think that title needs to go to Jazz.”

“Danny, I hate to break it to you, but your sister is a lunatic,” said Patterson, completely serious.

“Come on, you’re just saying that,” said Danny, staring openly at McGee.

Did this kid blink?

“Anyway, I’ve introduced McGee to one Fenton, you get to do the others,” said Patterson, poking Collins in the ribs.

“Danny doesn’t count,” protested Collins, squirming. “He’s sane, like you said.”

“You’ll have to be fast. Mom and Dad are like three blocks down the street chasing…” He trailed off. “Well, they think they’re chasing something, anyway. Transient noise on their latest EMF reader.” He rolled his eyes and finally blinked.

“Think they might actually get anything?” asked Patterson.

“Nothing with a mind,” said Danny. “Might have to play animal control soon, though.” There was a loud crash and a squeal of rubber, followed by distant but still deafening engine noises. Danny winced. “Can you please give them a fine for driving around in that thing?”

“They have a special permit,” said Collins, shrugging. “Straight from the mayor. Nothing we can do.”

“I will bribe you to do something.”

McGee choked.

“With what?” asked Collins. “You’re a penniless middle schooler.”

“Excuse you,” said Danny, crossing his arms. “You know I’m in high school.”

There was another crash.

“Are you sure they haven’t found anything?” asked Patterson, leaning forward.

“Absolutely positive,” said Danny. He sighed. “I should probably go, though.”

“Okay, have fun, Danny!”

“Don’t think you’re getting out of introductions, Patterson,” grumbled Collins.

“Alright,” said Collins, opening a narrow door and turning on the buzzing yellow light within. “Your kingdom awaits!” He gestured grandly, disrupting clouds of dust. “You’ll be entering old cases into the system. Did Cameron Daily show you how?”

McGee’s lips twisted at the memory of the computer tech. “Yes,” he said.

“Yeah, Cameron gets that reaction,” said Collins, thumping McGee on the back. “If it makes you feel better, he’s usually in charge of keeping track of the cults. Did he tell you about the VHS evidence?”

“The cults?”

“Yep. You’ll learn about those later. VHS?”

“Yes, he told me how to handle the VHS.”

“Great. So, Patterson and I will be working on case paperwork in the main room, if you have any questions, come get us, okay?”

“I will,” said McGee.

Collins nodded. “If we wind up being assigned a case, we’ll come get you.” He absentmindedly rubbed his shoulder. “The captain probably won’t give us anything today. Oh, and if Mayor Masters drops in, redirect him to the front desk. There’s no reason for him to be back here.”

There was a good deal of hostility in Collins’ tone. Interesting.

“Do you not get along with the mayor?”

“We get along fine,” said Collins. “He just oversteps his authority, sometimes.”

“I… see.”

“Not yet you don’t,” said Collins, softly, before turning to walk away. A “Good luck” was tossed casually over the man’s shoulder and seemed to echo in the air despite the hall being far too small for that to happen.

McGee turned to his work and smiled. They shouldn’t have left him alone with the records. This was where he did his best work. There was always a paper trail somewhere.

He opened the department-issued laptop and brought up the digital filing system.

It was odd, though. He’d spent years in the police, and he’d never heard of Fenton & Foley Information Systems.

The department computer filing system was a miracle. McGee meant that completely, as a connoisseur of filing systems. He wondered if he could get the county to adopt it, assuming it didn’t tie back to the mob or something equally unsavory.

On the other hand, it was only a couple months old, by the looks of it. It was, therefore, mostly empty, as compared to the almost infinite number of filing boxes in the record room.

The record room was not well organized. In fact, it was barely organized at all. Several of the boxes looked like they’d been beaten with a bat, others were singed. A few dripped with something sticky and green. One or two looked as though they’d been drenched in water and then left to dry in a dark, damp room. Only about half of them were labeled.

To top it off, towards the beginning he’d found a post-it that had said: Boxy, if you steal these again, I’m going to leave you in the thermos for a week. -Phantom

The people here were way too into their tourist trap shenanigans. Unless they weren’t just tourist trap shenanigans. Unless they were a front.

He’d put that on his list of things to investigate.

But first, first, he was going to find the records for the murder that was recently swept under the table.

The newest boxes, despite being reasonably intact and therefore unique, weren’t easy to find, but he was able to drag them out and sit down with his laptop. He could enter as he searched, and thereby give the illusion that he was a completely normal transfer more credence.

Except.

Except. The records for that murder didn’t seem to exist. Not even in the cold case box.

“Hey.”

McGee jumped. Patterson was standing behind him, holding two paper coffee cups.

“How’s it going?” she asked. “I know these records are hell.”

“Fine,” he said.

“Coffee?”

“Sure.” He took the offered cup from her. “Forgive me if I’m wrong,” he said, “but when I was working up at county, I heard that you had a murder case here, recently? You dug up a teen’s body?”

“Oh, yeah.” Patterson was unperturbed. “Yeah, that was pretty exciting. Collins and I were on that.”

“I can’t seem to find the records for it.”

“Yeah. Well, there wasn’t any foul play.” Patterson shrugged.

“Wasn’t he found buried in a public park?”

“Well, aren’t you informed,” said Patterson. She sipped her coffee aggressively through the plastic stirring straw.

“So, you found an illegally buried teenager’s corpse and just… dropped it?”

“We investigated it,” said Patterson. “There wasn’t anything there. Case was cold even without that.” Another long, aggressive sip. She couldn’t possibly be getting any coffee up through that straw. It had to be mostly air.

This was the most bizarre intimidation tactic McGee had ever come across in his entire life. This was saying something. Once he’d worked with a man who’d pretend to have the flu during interrogations.

“You should still have records for the investigation.”

Patterson shrugged. “You’d have to ask Captain Jones about that. Anyway, I brought a bunch of tapes for you, too. You’ll have to rewind them by hand, though, when you finally get to them.” Another sip. “Are you planning on doing the salvage boxes?”

“The what?”

“The salvage boxes. The ones that got fished out of the lake. Wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t. Just curious.”

“I’m- They were in a lake? Why?”

“Stick around and find out,” said Patterson. “Did Masters come bother you yet?”

“Mayor Masters?”

“The one and only,” said Patterson, raising her coffee in a mock toast.

“Why would he come here?”

“Because you’re new, and theoretically a weak link. Oh, yeah. One more thing. I know your check-out time is in half an hour, but come back around eight, okay?”

“Why?”

“Reasons.”

“Are you hazing me?”

“That’s what the salvage boxes are for,” said Patterson. “Come back at eight. Bye.” She waved as she left.

Great. What was he supposed to do about that?

He didn’t go home after checking out. Instead, he walked around town. Patterson and Collins’ tour had been… interesting. Not terribly informative. They had given him an overview of various restaurants, ‘paranormal hotspots,’ and places where dumb kids gathered to experiment with drugs of dubious legality.

But they had avoided certain parts of town. McGee had noticed.

True, some of that was likely coincidence, but McGee had never heard of a public cemetery that wasn’t the site of something shady. Sure, a good caretaker would chase off anyone messing around in daylight, but cemeteries and graveyards just attracted trouble. Even if that trouble was just the local goth kids running around while high out of their minds.

But this cemetery, evidently, is different. Because there’s an unholy amount of people there for something that supposedly hallowed ground. Is this also part of the weird ghost-theme the place had going for itself? Were those tourists? In the graveyard?

That seemed to be in remarkably poor taste.

McGee pushed his hands deeper into his pockets and lengthened his stride. This whole town was in poor taste.

Oddly, everyone seemed to be gathered around the same grave. Maybe it was a funeral? No, the ground in front of the headstone was long since patted firm, and the headstone, while obviously fairly new, had some evidence of weathering even from a distance.

Had there been a celebration today? Memorial Day wasn’t today, was it? McGee always lost track of those fiddly little holidays.

Huh. The headstone was blank.

“Excuse me,” he said to a nearby woman. “Do you know who was buried here?”

“You… don’t know?” she asked, eyes wide with surprise.

McGee grinned. “I’m new in town, I’m afraid, and I just saw all these people here… I’m curious, I guess.”

“Oh,” said the woman. She looked away, every part of her body language screaming that she was coming up with a story to feed him. A lie. Or, at least, deciding which lie to use. “Well, there was a body found a few months ago? No one ever identified him, so… He was buried here? We just, um. It was sad, you know? You’ll probably hear more about it if you stick around.”

Despite almost everything she said being a statement, she still managed to make everything but the last sentence sound like a question.

Even if it was a lie…

“I hadn’t, actually. Can you tell me what happened?”

… Maybe it was just what McGee needed.

#danny phantom #ectober #ectober 2020 #ectober week #ectober week 2020

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jinhogae · 3 years

Text

in light of mark venturing out into his own solo song here’s my ranking on nct’s rappers bc why not:

mark: without a doubt the best one and from an objective standpoint too. he sounds like an american-adjacent rapper which is par for the cause. you can hear this is what he grew up listening to. he has organic musicality and great feeling for rhythm, even when his raps derail a bit sometimes. most of the time he manages to fix the weaker parts of nct songs with his rapping. tho his raps sound better when he writes them, which isn’t surprising. and to me the fact that he adlibs most of nct’s songs speak in favor of him as a rapper and musician. fave parts: mad city, new axis, know now, gimme gimme

yangyang: imo nct’s best rapper easily and the one with the most potential while already being pretty skilled (for an idol rapper anyway). his rap flow is reminiscent of non-english speaking rapping, which isn’t surprising as opposed to mark he spent his formative years surrounded by german rap beginning its epic climb to a mainstream pop genre. he can switch flows fluidly and stays on beat and he can do a double time that is easy to follow. sounds least like an idol rapper. fave parts: new axis, only human, round&round, leonidas, lightbulb (cover of taeyeong’s part)

taeyong: who else? obviously nct doesn’t have many skilled rappers and no, sub vocalists with spoken word parts aren’t rappers. taeyong seems to split the masses and it’s no different with me. he has his hits and his misses, but he does have a unique voice and enunciation as well. sometimes he sounds like he is walking behind the beat while he raps, but at least he can switch flows. and a double time, if both of us ask the higher powers to look out for him. i liked his earlier stuff more than what he currently does, which is solely based on my preferences for his voice modulation as well as the sub-genres nct put him into. and he did hold zoo together by the seams of his pants tho, god bless. fave parts: baby don’t like it, mad city, limitless

hendery: he raps like an idol rapper. not too awful on the spoken-word parts tbh but he is definitely no standout to me. but the nct roadmap says he is a rapper so what can you do. i didn’t hate him in zoo and he was fun to listen to in miracle. i have no thoughts on this man whatsoever. he is deffo no standout rapper to me. he does his solid 9 to 5 and what he’s told to do in the booth and i am 👍 about that tho. good 4 him.

yuta & jeno: vocalist that can’t sing operatic scales does not make a rapper automatically @ sm. out of the two of them i do prefer yuta’s voice and i think there’s a lot of room for him to work with and on it. would i call him a rapper tho? no. but when the nct 127′s need someone to start a spoken-word part in a bridge, he will be there and by god he will do it. on to jeno, apparently this man raps. i didn’t know this because i do not listen to nct dream regularly and couldn’t place his voice in nct u songs. tho his voice works for a rapper as well as for the parts he gets and he’s pleasing to listen to! but once more a spoken-word assignment does not make a rapper. it does make an idol rapper tho so both of them are completely fine among those. nothing 2 write home about.

are there more? i don’t think there are more. johnny is a podcast guest, not a rapper.

#al.txt #<3

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hi-hey-haechan · 4 years

Note

Hi! Could u plz do 37+52+53 w/ Dom!Jeno & possibly light choking? Thank you, I love your work! ☺️💕

Thank you!

37. "Can he make you feel as good as I do?"

52. "You're so fucking hot when you're mad"

53. "We're not just friends and you fucking know it"

Warning: light choking kink

Friends with benefits. That was all you and Jeno were: friends who just had sex sometimes.

Sure, Jeno was by far the sweetest boy you know, who also just so happened to have the same sense of humor as you, and who also was fucking gorgeous. No big deal, though - you were just friends. That's what he always assured you. And you always did the same. You weren’t supposed to be in love with your best friend, the same person who watched awful comedies with you and gave you advice whenever and wherever.

And yet here you were, out on a date with Renjun, and all you could think about was Jeno. Now, Jeno didn’t know that you were out with one of his closest friends, but he shouldn’t care...right? If he just saw you as a friend, then he had no right to be jealous. Maybe Renjun would be your first step in getting over Jeno before you fell even deeper.

“Hey,” Renjun’s sweet voice sounded, “are you okay? You seem sort of preoccupied.”

Renjun was your friend, and he was smart and kind and handsome. You loved him, but not the way you loved Jeno. However, Renjun had asked you out, and you weren’t opposed to the idea of getting over your unrequited love. You wanted to spare yourself more pain you’d feel in the future.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just school,” you gave him what you hoped to be a convincing smile. Realistically, you couldn’t help but think about Jeno’s slight choking kink, how his veiny, long hand and fingers pressed lightly into your throat, cutting off some oxygen to your brain. His face had a hard look set on it when he choked you, kind of the way he’d look while rapping on stage, as opposed to making a mess of you under him.

The date was going well. Renjun didn’t try to flirt with you; you didn’t flirt with him. The food was amazing, and you guys made casual small talk and shared a few laughs. It was casual and nice. Here was the bad thing, though: you didn’t feel that way about Renjun.

You wanted it to be Jeno who was laughing with you like this, and raving over the incredible restaurant food. Why, Jeno? Why do I have to be in love with you, when I’m not supposed to? Why can’t I do this without messing it up? The entire date, you were preoccupied, and you hoped that Renjun didn’t notice.

When you were walking home, you turned on your phone for the first time in two hours, since you’d kept it off while with Renjun. You were shocked to find four missed calls from Jeno, and possibly a million texts. Shit, you thought to yourself, suddenly remembering. You were supposed to have met Jeno at your place for dinner and a terrible Netflix movie, commonly a Friday-night tradition.

He’d texted that he’d be at your house whenever you decided to show up, so you legitimately ran home, guilt present in your entire being.

The door flew open, your chest heaving as you panted, doubled-over in your doorway. Jeno’s head swiveled to look at you, alarmed at the sudden disturbance of his silence. His brown hair had fallen over his eyes, and his beautiful lips were slightly parted.

You wanted to kiss his perfect lips. You never kissed, due to it being too “intimate” for the casual sex you guys were having. However, that didn’t change how badly you wanted to kiss him, to feel his warm mouth against yours, your bodies close as you told him “I love you” from a simple action. You stared at his mouth constantly, wondering how it would feel to straddle his hips while kissing him deeply.

“Wow,” said Jeno, unimpressed, “you’re only two hours late. Where the hell were you?” His jaw was set, and through his hair, you could see his furrowed eyebrows and piercing glare.

“I forgot. I’m sorry.”

“Answer the question.”

“I was on a date with Renjun.”

And suddenly, Jeno was on his feet. He looked as though he could barely believe the words you’d just uttered. You looked at his ears, which were often a warning sign for his emotions. The tips were red, and it was clear to see: He was pissed. “Renjun,” he stated, as though he could barely believe it. “You went on a date. With my best friend.”

“Why the heck do you look so mad at me?”

“You ditched me, your best friend, to go out with a boy you like.”

“I don’t like him like that, Jeno,” you assured him truthfully. You liked Jeno, of course, but that was beside the point. “What’s wrong with me dating guys, either? It’s not like we’re dating. It’s not cheating on you.”

“It is if you’re fucking him.”

“How?” you inquired, beginning to get angry now. You had come home to apologize, not to argue. Who cared if his voice was, at the moment, so deep and dominant to the point where every syllable of his went directly to your core. “We aren’t in a relationship with feelings. You’re allowed to fuck other people.”

“Did you have sex with him?”

“No!” you insisted angrily. “I’m not like that.” The kind to have sex on the first date, that is.

“But him? You ditched me for Renjun. You’ve been such a bad girl tonight. And what happens to bad girls?”

“They get punishments.” Finally, what you had been imagining all day.

“Finally, you got something right.” Jeno’s ears were red as heck, and his stare was so intimidating that you almost wanted to look away. He bit his lip in frustration, something he did when he was really angry. He brushed his hair out of his eyes before walking right over to you. The both of you slowly tumbled back until you hit the wall. His strong, lithe body was keeping you in place. You were conscious of every single muscle he was pressing against you, and you could feel their slightest tensions.

You needed to say what was on your mind, for your entire being was screaming those words at that second. You were also mentally screaming “I love you,” but that wasn’t exactly something you could say to your friend with benefits. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.”

Kiss me, you wanted to tell him. With his face just inches from yours, it was killing you to not break the distance. You kept your eyes locked with his, showing him that you weren’t going to submit to him so easily.

“You’re probably already dripping wet for me, aren’t you? Just seeing me get mad? Or is it for Renjun?” His face had moved so he was whispering in your ear. His hot breath fanned against your skin, and his lips barely, just barely, brushed the shell of your ear, sending goosebumps through your entire body.

Jeno picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder. He threw you onto the bed when he reached your bedroom. Jeno stripped you immediately, his hands frantic and eager as he removed the layers that separated you two.

Your thighs had been pressing together, attempting to relieve some of the aching that you felt in your core. He hadn’t been wrong when he asked if you were wet. The idea of him doing this to you had been in your head all day, and now it was finally happening.

His hand moved in between your legs, separating them to expose your core.

“Fuck,” he muttered, running his fingers up the slit of your hole, two fingers collecting some of your juices. He ignored the whimper you let out and the bucking of your hips against his hand. “You’re so wet. And it’s all for me, right? Or is it for Renjun?”

There was a slight tinge of vulnerability in his voice, as though he genuinely was worried you’d replace him with Renjun. As a result, you said, “Y-you, it’s always you.” Your last sentence had meaning in so many different forms. You meant it not only in moments like these, but in moments when you just looked at him or talked to him, struck by the person he was.

Since you were so wet, foreplay wasn’t a necessity in this circumstance. Jeno didn’t hesitate to slam himself inside of you, forcing a strangled cry out of your throat, due to the sudden pain of his thick length stretching you out impossibly. The pain was sharp down at your core, but you knew it would fade away soon. For now, you just clutched onto the sheets for dear life.

As he continued to thrust, his thick length managed to hit parts inside of you that were deeper than what he’d initially gotten. He was definitely, not in any way, shy in size, and every time you had sex with him, he’d manage to make you scream his name from just his cock alone. This was only emphasized every time he fucked you.

Pleas, for him to know how much you wanted to cum from his cock. Moans, to tell him how good he was making you feel with each small movement. Cries of his name whenever he managed to find your g-spot, to urge him to continue on. You did all of these whenever he had sex with you, and you fell in love with him more and more.

At this point, his hips thrusted with everything he had, going so fast that you couldn’t even speak or think. When your mouth opened to speak, whimpers and cries passed your lips and skin. Under Jeno, you were always falling apart, completely at his expense.

“Renjun, could he make you feel as good as I do?” Jeno’s voice was practically a growl, and you almost didn’t hear him, both due to how high on pleasure you were and how loud your own moans were. You tried to speak, but a moan fell from your lips instead. “Not gonna answer, hmm?” And at that, his fingers closed around your neck.

It was so hot, how his long fingers and veiny hands grasped your neck, putting the lightest amount of pressure on it. You could breathe, but not clearly. He pressed onto your throat with the slightest amount of force, enough to cut off a small part of your breathing. His face was above yours, fierce and caught up in the moment. His hips were thrusting so powerfully, hitting your g-spot. You could hardly moan out, due to your being choked, but the pleasure was sending you so high. Your eyes were almost rolling into the back of your head, unable to maintain control over your body or the sounds leaving your lips. Then again, there really weren’t any sounds leaving your lips, at this point.

You tightened around him, clenching around his member. The way his tip was hitting your g-spot was pushing you closer and closer to your edges. Jeno let out a swear at how you clenched. “You gonna cum for me? You gonna scream my name?”

Your legs were already shaking. His arm and hand were keeping you in place, head against the pillow. Your eyes had rolled back in ecstasy, and if your eyes weren’t rolled back, you’d be watching how his face screwed in pleasure, eyes closing, jaw slackening, eyebrows furrowed while his hair clung to his forehead with sweat.

You took in a shallow gasp for air, all you could really muster. With a final thrust, your world came crashing down around you, walls closing in around his member. His hand withdrew from your neck, allowing you to legitimately scream out Jeno’s name, body spasming from the intense orgasm that was sending pleasurable waves through your entire building. Your jaw hung open as you inhaled air and cried out his name on multiple occasions, in the span of some seconds.

Your orgasm had sent him over the edge, thrusting a final time as his load shot up inside of you, his hot seed painting your walls. His low moans had filled the room, and they were so hot yet so beautiful at the same time, the way he let out sounds of pleasure like that.

“No,” you said.

“‘No’ what?”

“Renjun could not make me feel as good as you do. Nobody could.”

He realized that you were referring to the thing he’d said during your rough sex. Plus, now you couldn’t walk, so it worked out even better for him.

“Good,” Jeno said. It looked like he wanted to say more, but instead, he just got up and grabbed his clothes. He asked if you needed anything before moving into the bathroom to change.

You had wanted to lie there with him for a few minutes, just enjoying each other’s presence and warmth. Was that something that only couples did? You weren’t sure, but you and him had crossed the “friends” and “lovers” line multiple times. You, as well got dressed, grateful that Jeno had placed your clothes on the foot of the bed.

When Jeno emerged from the bathroom, you beckoned for him to come over to the bed, patting the space next to you for him to sit. He was more hesitant that usual, but he did as you had requested. He looked to you, waiting for you to speak. Your eyes locked, and your heart ached. Jeno looked so beautiful. He always did. But you couldn’t have him, not in every way you wanted him.

Finally, you remembered to speak. “Why did you get so jealous? We’re not toge--”

You were suddenly cut off, his lips pressing against yours firmly, harshly, desperately. His hands flew up to cup your face, and he kissed you with so much love and intensity that you wanted to cry, almost. It was messy and unpracticed, but everything he had was poured into the kiss. You didn’t push him away, even when you finally registered what had happened. This was what you wanted, and it was even more wonderful than you’d imagined.

He broke away with a wrench. Jeno had a horror-stricken expression written across his face, his swollen lips agape in disbelief. “Holy...I’m so sorry. I just...I felt like kissing you?”

“Why did you? Not opposing, just wondering.”

“I don’t know. I mean...we’re just friends.”

“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” Your voice rang out through the room. This was how you felt, splayed out for everyone. “I’m sorry,” you said, “but I fell for you. I love you. I know this now means that we need to end things, and I understand why.”

“Did you seriously think that I didn’t love you back? Of course I do. I failed the number-one friends-with-benefits rule, but I couldn’t help it. It’s you. It’s always you.” Jeno’s voice was kind and sincere, and you kissed him in that second. You didn’t want to sort through anything anymore, but the prolonged feeling of his mouth against yours was something he’d wanted.

“You know, I went on a date with him because I wanted to get over you. I didn’t think you’d love me back.”

“Well, I do. Oh my gosh, was the famous y/n wrong about something?”

You answered with a smile. “Yes, and for once, I’m so happy to be wrong.”

#nct smut #nct dream smut #00 line smut #lee jeno smut #jeno smut #nct #nct imagines #nct dream #nct dream imagines #jeno imagines #lee jeno #jeno #kpop imagines #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #00 line imagines #00 line #we will winwin

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reyescarlos · 4 years

Text

someone to you || a tarlos fic

for the bright spot herself @sunshinestrand. i wonder if the sun ever gets jealous of how much warmth you give to everyone who is lucky enough to know you. i hope your special day is filled with as much light and love as you constantly give to us all. happy birthday, sweetheart! 💕💜

word count: 6.1k || read on ao3

I'll make the moon shine just for your view I'll make the starlight circle the room And if you feel like night is falling I wanna be the one you're calling

“If you don’t say something to him one of these days, I just might lose my mind,” Michelle says with a sigh as she approaches the counter where Carlos is standing.

He chews absentmindedly on his bottom lip as he looks over at TK. Everything to the guy is so effortless. Somehow he makes sitting down in a coffee shop look like an ad as he holds up his mug aloft and laughs at something one of his friends says.

Carlos would give anything to have that kind of access to TK, to be able to share in jokes and to simply know him. Carlos is fairly certain TK doesn’t even know they’re in the same lecture every Tuesday. But even in a hall filled with students, Carlos is always able to spot him, constantly dialed into his frequency like his favorite radio station.

Realizing that he’s been blatantly staring, Carlos clears his throat and looks away, mindlessly pouring sugar into a dispenser.

“It’s just a stupid crush. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Michelle rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well the way I see you gawk at him every week he shows up here says otherwise.”

Carlos can’t help it. In their class TK almost never speaks but each time he makes it out to an open mic, Carlos gets treated to TK quite literally under a spotlight, up on stage singing and playing his guitar or the keyboard.

“He’s really good. I like his sound is all.”

“Is that a euphemism?” Michelle teases, bumping her hip against Carlos’ as she passes by him. “I think it’s safe to say you like his everything.”

He jokingly glares at her before laughing. She’s definitely not wrong about that. Carlos has been crushing quietly since he first saw TK in their lecture at the start of term a little over two months ago. TK has been coming to open mic nights here at the cafe for the last month. Each week he performs, Carlos feels himself fall a little harder, swept up in his beautiful voice. Whether TK performs original music or a cover of something, he always brings the house down.

Michelle glances at her watch. “Oh, I have to start in just a few. Are you okay up here?”

“Yeah, I can tackle the counter. You go ahead.”

She pats his arm once with a smile before moving from behind the counter to head towards the stage to double check the microphones and setup for the evening’s session. He turns his focus back on refilling the dispensers in front of him. A shadow casts suddenly over the countertop, darkening his work area. Carlos looks up, his hand jerking forward in surprise to see TK smiling at him. Sugar spills against the surface, Carlos quickly tipping the bag upright to stem the flow.

“Shoot, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” TK says, grabbing a tissue and trying to clean up the grains of sugar.

Carlos grabs a dry rag from under the counter and wipes it away.

“No worries. It’s cool. Uh, can I get anything for you?” he asks, looking back at TK, doing his best to ignore the way his heart is hammering. This isn’t how he pictured his first substantial interaction with TK to go but he saves face as best he can.

“Could I trouble you for a scone?” TK says, jutting at the case with his thumb.

Carlos holds his breath and nods, clearing his throat, picking up the tongs and a plate. “Yeah, sure thing.”

TK smiles and Carlos can feel something inside his chest melt at the sight. Before he can dwell on it or potentially embarrass himself by randomly saying something to prolong the moment, he quickly puts the pastry on the dish. TK already has his card out, ready to pay for it.

Carlos ignores the slight tremble in his hands as he takes it, mentally reprimanding himself for getting so worked up over his brief and truly mundane conversation with TK.

“Here you go,” he says, handing back TK’s card and pushing the plate toward him.

TK thanks him and Carlos thinks that’s the end of their interaction until TK looks up again and eyes him thoughtfully.

“I feel like I know you.”

The phrasing makes his breath catch in his throat but he quickly realizes what TK actually means.

“We have a class together, don’t we?”

“Astronomy,” Carlos supplies.

TK snaps his fingers and points at him. “Right, yes. That’s it. Man, that was really bugging me. I knew I recognized you from somewhere other than here. It’s good to see you…”

“Carlos.”

“Carlos,” he repeats as if weighing the syllables on his tongue. “I’m TK. It’s nice to meet you officially.”

“Yeah, you too.”

The house lights dim and both TK and Carlos snap their heads towards the stage where Michelle approaches the microphone.

“Hello and welcome to open mic night here at Déjà Brew,” she greets. There’s a warm round of applause and eager cheering from the crowd gathered.

“It’s always so great seeing so many familiar faces and new ones alike. There are still slots available. Our sign up sheet will remain here just offstage for anyone that would like to perform,” she says, gesturing to her left. “Without further ado, please help me welcome one of our favorite regulars to the stage…Mr. TK Strand. Take it away, sir,” she muses.

TK turns back to Carlos and looks as if he wants to say something but the crowd is already giving him a warm, welcoming applause. He quickly takes his scone and hurries back to his table where one of his friends is holding out his guitar for him.

Carlos lets out a breath as TK approaches the stage and settles on the stool positioned right in the center of it. A few people whoop and cheer for him once again now that he’s situated. TK laughs coyly but the microphone sends his chuckle throughout the room.

“Thank you for that lovely intro, Michelle. Very flattering; I love being a favorite but really, who doesn’t?” he jokes, earning a few laughs. “I was debating what to play tonight. I’ve been working on some new stuff but finally settled on just going for one of my favorite songs by one of my favorite artists. This is The Girl by City and Colour, bastardized by me.”

There are a few more laughs, TK personable as ever that he makes each person feel like they’re old friends. Anyone who has ever heard him play knows there’s no way he won’t knock this cover out of the park.

From the first string TK plucks, the room is completely his. Carlos watches his fingers move expertly along the fretboard. It’s a real sight to see and as Carlos looks away from TK’s hands to his face, he can see just how much fun he’s having with the playful opening melody.

TK gets close to the mic and starts to sing and instantly Carlos leans closer, arms folded on the counter as he watches TK in action. There isn’t a single person speaking quietly to a friend or distracted by their phone. All eyes are glued to the musician on stage. Carlos could listen to TK play all day and never grow tired of the sound. It’s remarkable how his voice floats and cloaks the room, each note nestling in his chest like seeds.

The audience erupts into applause as TK’s final note rings out. He smiles to himself before looking out at the crowd.

“Thank you so much,” he says into the mic before slipping off his guitar and hopping down from the low stage.

Carlos can’t help but to smile as people TK passes give him thumbs up or murmur compliments as he returns to the table with his friends.

Michelle gets back on stage and introduces the next person on the sign up sheet.

The next performer is great but Carlos knows he’s more than a little biased in saying that TK will be the best person to hit the stage tonight.

He chances a glance over at TK and sees that TK is looking at him as he breaks off a piece of his scone. Carlos quickly looks away and focuses on other tasks throughout the rest of his shift, ones that don’t include keeping tabs on the comings and goings of a certain musician.

The night comes to a close, marking yet another successful open mic night. Given that it’s Friday, most of the crowd dissipated as the evening progressed to perhaps party or hang out elsewhere. TK and his friends opted to stay for the entire session, as they almost always do, showing support to each performer who graced the stage.

As TK and his group begin to file out for the night, Carlos waves them off as they say their thanks for another fun night at the shop. Carlos turns his back for a moment to replenish silverware when he hears the quick rap of knuckles on the counter. He turns and is greeted to TK’s bright and open smile up close for the second time this evening.

“So, I’ll see you on Tuesday, right?” he says, hitching the strap of his guitar case up his shoulder.

Brought up short at TK essentially singling him out just then, Carlos nods slowly before he finds his voice again.

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll uh, I’ll see you next week.”

“Cool. Have a good night, Carlos,” TK replies simply with the smile that hasn’t left his face. He knocks on the counter once as if to punctuate his sentence and slinks away to join his friends just outside of the shop.

“Looks like you made it onto someone’s radar tonight,” Michelle sing-songs, settling in beside him.

Carlos stares out the window at TK with his friends, one guy nudging his arm as they begin to walk away. Once they’re out of view, Carlos turns back to look at her.

“He’s just being nice.”

“Denial runs deep in you, doesn’t it?” she teases, shaking her head. “Come on, let’s try and finish up so you can have some of the night to yourself, loverboy.”

~*~*~

On Tuesday Carlos makes sure he shows up early for his lecture, standing outside of the hall doors waiting for the group before him to clear out. Today has the potential to be so different from all the other lectures that have come before it. This Tuesday in particular marks the first time TK will truly know of his existence in the hall too.

He tries to settle his nerves by reading news on his phone but he’s too anxious to focus on the words for long. He gives up with a sigh, tucking his phone into his pocket when TK comes bounding toward him with a bemused smile.

“I was hoping you’d come early, too. We didn’t really get a chance to talk much on Friday,” TK says, completely blowing past any formal greeting. Carlos is taken aback by that candor.

“Yeah, I guess not. You were great, by the way. I mean, you always are but...I really liked your performance. I’ve pretty much been listening to the song on a loop since Friday so thanks for the rec.”

Carlos’ heart nosedives as he realizes what he’s just disclosed so openly. But TK doesn’t appear to think it an odd statement. His face lights up, genuinely pleased.

“Oh yeah? That’s awesome.”

“You’ve got great taste in music though, I guess that really shouldn’t be surprising.”

TK laughs. “I’d be majoring in the wrong field if I didn’t, that’s for sure.”

Before Carlos can reply, the doors to the lecture hall open, students filing out into the hallway. Carlos thinks this kills off the chance of speaking to TK still but the guy stays close to him once the doors are clear enough for them to enter too.

“Hey, do you mind if I sit with you today?” TK asks.

Carlos quickly shakes his head. “Uh, no. Not at all.”

He heads up the flight of stairs in the hall, taking up his usual seat. The one beside him is typically home for his backpack but today it’s TK’s frame that settles into the chair.

Carlos takes covert glances at him from the corner of his eye. It was truly so much easier to look at him when he was across the hall these last few weeks. This close up, it’s much harder to sneak and get an open look. But just sitting beside him makes Carlos so acutely aware of TK’s movements.

As the lecture starts, he zones out in favor of taking notice each time TK toys with the strings on his hoodie or his leg bounces restlessly.

The hour and a half passes in a blur and Carlos is surprised to look down and realize he actually still managed to take a decent amount of notes. Their professor reminds them of an upcoming assignment to which TK groans and quickly writes something down in his book, underlining it twice.

“I totally spaced on that.”

“Was that meant to be an astronomy pun?” Carlos cringes at himself but TK laughs heartedly.

“That was a good one.” He closes his notebook and puts it back into his bag, Carlos following suit and packing up his things as well. “But seriously, I completely forgot the deadline was coming up so quickly.”

“I could...if you need someone to go through it with you or anything, I could help,” he offers.

“Carlos, that’s so sweet of you but you don’t have to do that. I got myself into this mess. I’ll figure something out. But, I mean, maybe I could get your number just in case I hit a snag or something?”

The quick turnaround from feeling rejected to elated is jarring but Carlos smiles and says, “Definitely, yeah.”

TK flashes a smile back and takes his phone out, unlocking it before surrendering it to Carlos to create a new contact. When Carlos is done, he hands the phone back to TK who looks at the newest addition to his phone.

“Cool.” TK sends him a quick text. “Just in case you need to get in touch with me for any reason before then, now you can.”

That phrasing sounds like a challenge, as if TK is now tipping the ball into his court.

“I’ll keep that in mind ,” he says.

~*~*~

Texting with TK becomes such a part of Carlos’ daily routine now. It’s to the point where he comes to expect a message from TK each time his phone buzzes as they’ve had a pretty consistent chain going all week. TK’s most recent text, however, wasn’t a Spotify link to a song he thought Carlos might like but rather an SOS to help him complete his astronomy assignment. The message was followed with TK’s building and room number and the entire walk across campus is spent with Carlos’ heart racing until he’s knocking at TK’s door.

“Thank you,” TK immediately says as he lets Carlos in. “I almost didn’t text you to come over but I’m pretty sure I’ve been doing this wrong.”

Carlos looks around the room as he steps in, clearly picking up on which side is TK’s. There are guitar picks and sheet music on one of the desks, two guitar cases leaning against the wall by the foot of one bed. Above the bed itself is a stylish black and white map of Manhattan. Carlos smiles to himself seeing these traces of TK in the space.

“You can grab a seat,” TK says, gesturing to the desk chair. TK sits at the foot of the bed, a small gap of space separating them.

The air feels charged but Carlos is certain that’s all in his head. Being alone in TK’s room is worlds away from sitting beside him during their lectures.

“Okay, let’s see what you have so far,” Carlos says, determined to focus on the task at hand.

They work for about two hours, getting distracted with cracking jokes every now and then and talking about random things as they eventually end up on the floor with papers and charts spread out between them. It’s a mess but Carlos looks over all that they have and draws one very clear conclusion.

“We did it. You’re officially done.”

TK throws his hands up in victory and laughs, flopping down to rest his back on the floor and stare up at the ceiling.

“Holy shit. Thank you. Again. You’re a lifesaver; I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” He turns his head to look at Carlos who merely shrugs.

But Carlos can’t deny how good it feels to be of help and save TK from the stress he’s been feeling with this assignment hanging over his head. TK is looking at him as if he’s a saint or something. Carlos can feel the back of his neck warming up and busies himself with gathering the sheets of paper around them to avoid looking at TK for even a moment longer before that blush spreads to his face.

“What are friends for, right?” he says, only daring to look back at TK now that he’s collected himself.

TK eyes him thoughtfully and Carlos holds his breaths as he waits to see what TK will have to say.

“Lucky me for having you as mine.”

~*~*~

TK has been frequenting the shop more often than his usual Friday nights. Now Carlos has come to expect him here and there but on Sundays mostly where the crowd is far less dense and the evenings are slowgoing enough that Carlos can actually linger behind the counter and chat with him. It’s become a common occurrence for TK to plant himself at one of the elevated seats and work on assignments. More often than not, the books get neglected for long stretches of time. It’s a comfortable routine, one that Carlos has been finding himself growing dependent on.

TK helps him clean up for the night, offering to sweep while Carlos closes out the registers. They don’t speak much as they focus on their tasks but there’s a comfort in just having TK there, to look up from counting the till to see him moving about the room. This coffee shop really belongs to them in their own ways and now they’ve managed to find yet another way to make it special.

Carlos gets back to his closing duties as TK volunteers to put the trash out back. While he’s gone, Carlos makes a quick to-go cup of green tea, TK’s usual, as thanks. TK comes back in and heads over to wash his hands in the bathroom.

When he returns, he joins Carlos at the counter who pushes the cup forward.

“For your hard work tonight,” Carlos says.

TK smirks and picks it up, bringing the cup to his mouth. “If you keep this up, you may never get rid of me.”

“Ah, so you’re on to me then.” The words slip from his lips so easily but TK doesn’t seem put off. Instead the boy smiles into his cup as he takes a sip.

Relieved, Carlos takes his store keys out of his bag and heads for the door. TK steps out as he flips off the switch, the shop plunged in darkness as he locks back.

“Thanks again for sticking around and helping me,” he says as they begin to head back to campus. “You really didn’t have to do any of that.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s the least I could do. You completely saved my ass last week and besides, it was just...nice. I like hanging out with you.”

Carlos bites the inside of his cheek to keep from breaking out into a ridiculous grin. He feels like he’s in middle school again with just how much he’s been crushing on TK but he can’t help it. His stomach always seems to do cartwheels when TK is around, especially when he makes statements like this.

They walk alongside each other in comfortable silence for a time. Carlos does his best not to keep stealing glances at TK but it’s easier said than done. A few times he’s caught TK looking at him which throws him off guard but it’s certainly not unwelcome.

“How old were you when you started playing?” he asks as they near campus.

“I always sort of grew up around the piano. My mom played and she had one in the apartment so I’d sit with her sometimes and she taught me a few things here and there. But I didn’t start taking it really seriously until I was about seven, maybe eight. It was our thing, you know? My parents...things with them went south and she was busy a lot with work. But whenever we did get to check in with each other, we’d find ourselves on the piano bench together. I loved that time with her, even though it became harder and harder to come by the older I got.”

Carlos smiles a bit sadly. But, he thinks, it says a lot that TK is able to be so candid with him about his upbringing. It’s pretty personal insight and yet TK extends it to him so freely. He supposes TK may just be an open guy in general but it still means a lot to be trusted in this manner.

“Wow, that took a turn, I’m sorry,” TK laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“No, it’s okay, really. I don’t mind at all.” TK nods at this and continues after a beat.

“I got my first guitar on my tenth birthday from my dad. I think he was trying to speak our language in his own way and I really appreciated it. I took to that pretty well and became a bit obsessed, clearly. Totally thought I was going to be a kid rockstar,” he jokes. “Anyway, music’s always been there for as long as I can remember.”

“That’s really cool, TK. Most people go on a long journey to find the thing that’s right for them but your passion found you early on.”

Carlos’ building comes into view and each step towards it fills him with utter dread. They’ve already managed to stretch this night but greedily, it’s still not enough for him.

As they come to a stop outside the doors to his building, TK stares at him and for a wild moment, Carlos thinks TK might kiss him. TK does lean in but it’s to give a hug, one in which Carlos gladly reciprocates.

“It was great getting to hang out with you tonight. I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too,” Carlos replies, subtly drawing in a breath and breathing TK in as they embrace.

TK begins to pull away after a moment and places a soft kiss on Carlos’ cheek.

Carlos is sure his face flushes and he’s all too grateful for the cover of night to disguise it. They both avoid each other’s gaze for a second before laughing a bit. TK stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Carlos tries to remember how to form a sentence.

“Goodnight, TK,” he says softly.

TK searches his eyes for a moment, almost pensively before smiling faintly.

“Goodnight, Carlos. Sweet dreams.”

~*~*~

Carlos has not been able to shake his walk home with TK. Each time he thinks about it, he can practically feel TK’s lips on his cheek. It was such a modest kiss, a quick peck that probably didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things and yet, it’s all he can think about.

On Tuesday they sat beside each other, same as always and have continued chatting regularly through texts. Neither has made even the smallest hint or mention of what happened Sunday night. It makes Carlos wonder if he’s been blowing this out of proportion or if TK is just as clueless on what comes next as he is.

The latter seems almost comical. TK is perhaps the smoothest, most confident guy he knows. If he wanted to progress things further, he would have already.

Carlos does his best not to stare now at TK’s table. Friday night has rolled around once again and while Carlos is excited to see TK perform, it’s hard to see him and not feel transported back to Sunday night. The phantom sensation of that chaste kiss has kept him up every night this week.

“You okay?” Michelle asks, pulling Carlos from his thoughts.

Carlos blinks twice and nods. “Yeah, just tired I guess.” His eyes flicker to where TK is seated.

Something about him seems off tonight. Normally he’d be the liveliest one at the table but TK seems withdrawn.

Michelle makes a noncommittal hum but says nothing else on the matter and Carlos is grateful for it. She excuses herself to start tonight’s event.

He busies himself with customers who approach the counter as the evening kicks off, the backdrop of performers truly background noise as he works.

Michelle calls TK to the stage when it’s his turn and immediately Carlos zeroes in on his table. TK’s friend pats him on the back before letting out a whoop as he settles up on stage before the keyboard.

“Hey, guys. This one’s been playing on my mind a lot these days. Figured I should do something with it and free it somehow. So, yeah. This is Bloodstream by Stateless.”

TK clears his throat and it’s strange but for the first time, the young man actually looks and sounds nervous. He looks over at Carlos who smiles encouragingly. TK blinks twice and looks down at the keys, brows deepened before playing.

The melody he plays is eerie but beautiful, Carlos’ interest all the more piqued as TK’s fingers strike deftly. The song is haunting, TK’s voice much more gravelly than usual and it’s all so captivating that Carlos holds his breath as he listens.

I think I might’ve inhaled you I could feel you behind my eyes

“Gee, wonder who this one is for,” Michelle says, coming up beside him at the counter for a glass of water.

Carlos can’t even offer a response as he continues to watch TK. The guy’s eyes are closed as he croons into the mic, his shoulders bouncing as he strikes the right notes.

He feels goosebumps watching TK perform and can’t help but to hope there’s some validity in what Michelle is not so subtly hinting at.

TK tinkers around on the keyboard for the last few notes, his eyes landing on Carlos for the briefest of seconds as the audience claps for him. He thanks them and rises from his seat, hopping off the stage and returning to his table— but not without another look at Carlos before he sits once more with his friends.

Carlos feels shaken, his heart ricocheting like a pinball.

He hopes so fiercely that TK’s performance was a declaration of some kind but the night ends for the first time since they’ve befriended each other with an awkward smile and wave from a distance as TK and his friends leave.

Carlos isn’t sure what to make of any of this.

~*~*~

The strange energy doesn’t last long. The very next day TK shoots him a random humorous text and Carlos is glad for the ice breaker as it allows them to get back on track. They easily fall into their usual routine and as the week progresses, the night at the shop soon seems like a lifetime away.

TK invites Carlos to his dorm to hang out Wednesday afternoon and Carlos is all too happy to accept, taking advantage of his free time to head over to TK’s building.

From what he can discern, TK’s roommate is the next best thing to living alone. The guy is never in the room, leaving Carlos with uninterrupted time to just talk and be around TK any time he visits.

TK sits at the foot of the bed with his guitar, plucking out a melody for a song he’s been working on and hoping to debut at open mic. He’s got a pencil trapped between his teeth as he plays, stopping occasionally to jot down a note in the open book beside him. It’s fascinating to watch his process from his spot in the middle of TK’s bed, seeing how he develops an idea from a mere thought to an actual song, to something tangible.

“I hope this one goes over well on Friday,” TK mutters, moreso to himself.

“I know it will. Everyone loves you there and your songs are always a huge hit. This won’t be any different.”

TK smiles warmly at his sentiment. “Thanks. It’s always a bit nerve wracking to perform something new and original but it’s pretty exciting, too.”

Carlos shakes his head and laughs, resting his back against the wall.

“I could never do what you do.”

TK finger picks without even looking at the fret as he eyes Carlos quizzically.

“What? Play or perform?”

“Both. I love music but I don’t have the talent for learning. And performing? Ha, there’s no way you’d ever catch me in front of a crowd. But every week you get up there and knock it out of the park. It’s incredible though.”

TK’s mouth twists to the side slightly before he sets his guitar back into its case on the ground and turns to face Carlos again.

“Lay down,” TK says unexpectedly. Carlos is sure his expression must be bewildered because TK laughs and rolls his eyes. “I’m not about to steal your virtue. Just...settle back for a second.”

Carlos does as he’s instructed and stretches out on TK’s bed completely, his head coming to rest on the guy’s pillow. TK’s scent is everywhere and with the young man smiling over him now as he sits just to the left of him on the edge of the small bed, it’s enough to make his head spin and heart stop. He stares at him as TK speaks.

“Playing is a lot easier than you might think. It’s all about proper placement and timing.” He sets his fingertips against Carlos’ ribcage like they’re keys on a piano.

Carlos searches his face as TK mimics playing and hums a melody. It sounds familiar to Carlos but he can’t place it; it’s something classical, he knows. But his main focus is on TK’s light touches, each press of his fingertips like ripples on the surface of water. His long fingers skate up and down Carlos’ side as TK continues to play as if he’s on a Steinway.

It’s a marvel watching his expression. It’s all make-believe but Carlos has no doubt TK can see it all as clear as day in his mind’s eyes, the ivory and black keys. Though his gaze is fixed on TK’s face, the young man doesn’t lose his own focus and doesn’t catch Carlos’ eye until the final note.

“See? Nothing to it,” TK says, eyes shining with amusement.

It isn’t a conscious decision, that much Carlos knows as he sits up slowly and inches closely to TK, his hand cupping the nape of his neck. He doesn’t typically make bold moves but the draw he feels to TK is simply too much to ignore now.

TK falls silent and stares at him but doesn’t move away, his lips parting. After a beat, he draws nearer as well. Their noses touch, Carlos nuzzling gently before bringing his mouth to TK’s. That first press sends a spark shooting down his spine but Carlos doesn’t hurry or balk at the sensation. He relishes in the slight shiver that runs through TK, the small intake of breath, happy to see that he feels this thrill too. His fingers card gently at the back of TK’s hair, curling around the strands as he continues to kiss him.

TK’s hands encircle his waist, pulling him closer and Carlos is pliant as ever, melding against the man’s frame. The kiss grows gradually, moving from tentative to assured, both guys shedding away any hesitancy and owning the moment.

It’s easy for Carlos to get swept away in kissing TK. His lips are proving themselves to be skilled at more than just offering beautiful smiles.

When TK breaks first, his eyes are still closed and Carlos can’t help but to stare, smiling softly at him when he finally reopens them.

“That’s what playing feels like,” TK says quietly. “An electric rush.”

Carlos’ face burns but TK doesn’t tease him for it. Instead he leans in and kisses Carlos’ cheeks, his forehead, the tip of his nose. This draws out a laugh from Carlos, a note so carefree and unguarded he’s almost surprised it’s ripped from him.

He smiles shyly and rests his forehead against TK’s, settling down and simply breathing him in. His hand finds its way once more to the nape of TK’s neck, skimming his fingertips lightly against his scalp. TK seems to appreciate the subtle touch, his eyes fluttering briefly. It’s almost hard for Carlos to wrap his mind around the fact that he’s capable of any real effect on TK and yet, the proof is laid out right before him.

All these weeks of getting to know him as more than just the cute guy in a shared class or the talented performer who frequents open mic nights. All these weeks of truly getting to know him and falling even more, they haven’t been one-sided.

“I see why you like performing so much now. I could get used to this feeling.”

TK laughs and places another kiss on his lips. It takes everything in Carlos not to get too carried away but it’s certainly tempting. TK, a musician through and through, knows what to do with his hands. Placement and timing, as he said before.

He’s able to draw out sounds from Carlos like any of his instruments, a sigh, a moan, a whimper. Carlos’ lips feel swollen by the time they break apart for good, his head in a fog.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks now,” TK says.

“Yeah?”

TK rolls his eyes jokingly. “You know, I don’t usually go around serenading guys at open mic nights, right?”

“So, that really was for me then?”

“You thought I was singing that about some other guy? Seriously?”

Carlos shrugs a shoulder, looking down until TK lifts his chin gently. He stares into his blue-green eyes and finds the confidence to keep going.

“It felt too good to be true that you may have been dedicating it to me. I thought—I mean, I’ve been hoping but was too scared to ask. In case you aren’t aware, you’re a very attractive and ridiculously talented guy, TK. You could have your pick of anyone.”

“Just like you could. Easily, Carlos. You’re such a catch. I’ve spent weeks hoping you liked me back. I was out of my mind nervous up there. It seemed like a great idea beforehand but actually being on stage and seeing you watching me? I almost chickened out but I knew my friends wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if I did. And, honestly? I wanted to get my feelings for you out there somehow. Music is always my fallback so, seemed like the best bet.”

Carlos shakes his head and draws in a deep breath, letting it out in a gust.

“It was beautiful, TK. Absolutely beautiful. No one has ever done anything like that for me.”

TK gives him a small smile, looking down and playing with Carlos’ hand. “Since we met, I’ve just wanted to matter to you. Is that weird to say?” he asks, pulling his gaze upward.

Carlos shakes his head. “No, not at all. I actually liked you before we even met,” Carlos admits. “You’ve always been someone to me, TK. Never doubt that because I get the feeling that you always will be.”

TK searches his eyes, relief flooding his features before he leans in and kisses him again. Carlos serves it right back, pulling TK against him as he sinks back against the man’s bed. It’s light, it’s playful with soft laughter and even softer kisses. It’s safe and comfortable to hand this vulnerable side over and trust it will be protected.

All in all, Carlos finds, it’s simply natural to be this way, to fall for this beautiful boy and his beautiful music that makes him feel like a work of art to TK in his own right.

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komkommertijd · 4 years

Text

F1 2020 Grid as German rap songs

Since the 2020 season has come to an end, I thought it might be a good idea to finally share this thing that I’ve been working on since June. I have no idea as to why or how I had this idea, but I’m sure I’m not the first one to do this, anyway. I’m sorry to all my fellow Germans in advance <3

Disclaimer: I translated all of the lyrics myself so some things might not be completely accurate, for which I can only apologize. I do not agree with the way some rappers portray women, so I made sure to steer clear from those lyrics.

(post under the cut because it got kinda very long whoops)

Lewis - Vintage (RIN)

Oh Lord, wo soll das Ganze enden? Fahr' so schnell, ich wechsel' jede Woche Bremsen

[Oh Lord, where is this supposed to end? Driving so fast, I’m changing brakes every week]

It’s a song about being a champion, living a luxury life, nice clothes, and well...driving fast cars. Any more questions? Rin is one of my favorite German rap artists, so I just had to include his songs, and this one makes you feel like a real badass, just like our king Lewis 😌

Valtteri - In meinem Benz (AK Ausserkontrolle, Bonez MC)

Du siehst mich im Benz sitzen, so wie Lewis Hamilton

[You see me sitting in a Benz, just like Lewis Hamilton]

It’s kind of obvious why I chose that song, right? Other than that specific line there are some more parts about how much the rapper apparently loves his Mercedes and this song just screamed Valtteri to me.

Charles - NENENE (Fero47)

Sitze bald in roten Ferrari Geben Gas in der Hood Ruf' ich danach, "C'est la vie!"

[I’ll soon sit in a red Ferrari Rev up in my hood Shouting “C’est la vie!” afterward]

Ignoring the entire part about Monte Carlo and all the French words, this specific part just always reminds me of Charles when I listen to the song. More badass vibes but less seriously so because I can’t take Fero’s voice that serious at all, which fits Charles.

Sebastian - Ferrari (Eno, MERO)

Roter Ferrari Ich gebe Gas in einem Ferrari Roter Ferrari Yeah, ich sitze tief in einem Ferrari

[Red Ferrari I rev up in a red Ferrari Red Ferrari Yeah, I’m sitting deep inside a Ferrari]

There’s a part about “rolling with [a] bro in a white Mercedes” and my brain said Sewis rights. Other than that, this is once again a rather obvious choice, if not all that up to date anymore. Some lines about racing on the German highway, so of course I had to go for Sebastian with this one.

Max - Fame (Apache207)

Die Rapszene ist nur ein Affenzirkus In dem kleine Kinder gern mit Waffen hantieren Ich steh', wo ich steh', weil ich bin, wer ich bin Und nicht weil hier irgendjemand Apache platziert

[The rap scene is a madhouse Where little kids like to make use of guns I stand where I stand because I am who I am And not because someone places Apache]

This simply gives me Max vibes, I don’t have much more to say as an explanation. It just feels right, with criticism towards mentally “weaker” individuals and the confidence in making a name for oneself based on own achievements and hard work. Also, Apache has become a rather popular musician in the past year(s) (especially to obnoxious 5th graders, all tea no shade), which is just...Max, I won’t elaborate.

Alex - HONDA (Ansu)

Hold on, kommt was Schnell – Konter Dreamer, besonders – Willy Wonka Auto – Honda

[Hold on, there’s something coming Fast - Counterattack Dreamer, special - Willy Wonka Car - Honda]

I mean, it’s a song about a Honda driver? I struggled quite a bit with finding a song for Alex, but when I first listened to this song, my mind threw his name at me in blinking neon letters, so this is the vibe we’re going with - a funky fast Honda driver <3 (PS: I have no clue what the Willy Wonka thing is about but....why not)

Carlos - Habibi (Casar)

Sie schreibt: "Habibi", denn sie vermisst mich Ich fahre weit davon mit mein'n Hermanos

[She texts me “Habibi” because she misses me I drive far away with my hermanos]

I can only listen to the word “hermanos” so many times without my mind associating it with Carlos, so this one was a rather obvious choice for me as well. Also, there are some parts about Spain in this song so I had to be lame and do the obvious with this one.

Lando - 500 PS (Bonez MC, RAF Camora)

Ich drück' aufs Gas, hör' die 500 PS Fahren durch die Stadt, GTA Los Angeles

[I step on the gas, hear the 500 HP Cruising through the city, GTA Los Angeles]

This one’s a solid mainstream German rap song (not that I’d call Lando a mainstream person), liked to some extent by most people, and it gets you moving, which reminds me a lot of Lando. Cars and mentions of a video game make for a hit and Lando unites just that in person as well.

Daniel - Emotions 2.0 (Ufo361, Céline)

Baby, nimm einen Schluck Dom P. für die Emotions Ich erhöhe deine Dosis So viel Schmuck Mehr Drip als ein Ocean

[Baby take a sip Dom P for the emotions I’m increasing your dosage So much jewelry More drip than an ocean]

A bittersweet love song with rich boy summer vibes and one of my favorite German songs to be released this year, in fact, it’s my most listened to song on my phone, make for a combination that just screams Daniel to me. This song hits different when driving into the sunset in a fancy car or when biking through town at 1:30 am on three cans of Red Bull (believe me, I tried), and always reminds me of better times. It’s the ideal song to sing and rap along to, so that matches Daniel just fine.

Esteban - Einsneunzig (Brown-Eyes White Boy)

Bin fast einsneunzig, stell' mich auf die Bündel, das' ein Weltrekord Lass' die Zeit Revue passier'n, selbe Jungs und selber Ort

[I’m almost 1.90, stand on a wad of cash, that’s a world record Let’s recall the past, same guys and same place]

1.90 meters as a reference to Esteban’s height, obviously, simply made sense to me, once again. The second line reminds me of his feud with Pierre, so I had to choose this song. It’s better than Ratten im Hof (rats in the yard), and this reminds me of a wannabe gangster, which just screams Esteban to me, I’m sorry <3

Pierre - DAS RENNEN (RIN)

Ich hoff', eines Tages, wir gewinn'n das Rennen Wie bei Red Dead Redemption Irgendwann der Letzte wie Shanks Spinner Rims glänzen

[I hope one day we win the race Just like in Red Dead Redemption One day the last like Shanks Spinner rims are shining]

I know no one will believe this story but I started working on this post like half a year ago and I chose that song for Pierre back then and uhm, manifestation worked, I guess? Once again, I’m a big fan of Rin’s music, so choosing this song for Pierre is a bit like selfcare. The lyrics mention changing the world and well, so far Pierre has as least changed my world 😌

Daniil - One Night Stand (Capital Bra)

Ty moja ljubimaja Takaja diwnaja, krasiwaja-ja Sprawjedliwaja, njepobjedimaja Ty moja-ja, Baby, ty moja-ja

[You are my darling Such a wondeful, beauty Fair, invincible You’re mine baby, you’re mine]

I really hope I got that translation more or less right but other than that, I didn’t simply choose that song based on the Russian part. It’s a song we used to listen to a lot a few years ago and one of those from the days where Capital Bra was famous but less so than he is today. It reminds me of simpler times and it’s a pretty vibey song that, if you allow it to, draws you in and makes you dance. I have a soft spot for Daniil and the song reminds me a bit of him.

Lance - Bronx (Veysel)

Du musst doppelt zahlen, deshalb krieg' ich es umsonst Audemars, Yves Saint Laurent, eine Villa irgendwo Audemars, Yves Saint Laurent, ein paar Villen irgendwo

[You have to pay double that’s why I get it for free Audemars, Yves Saint Laurent, a mansion somewhere Audemars, Yves Saint Laurent, a few mansions somewhere]

This is a song that you have to listen to on high volume in a fast car, one that once again has really badass vibes. It’s nice to rap along to and hard not to move to. The rich boy vibes in the chorus that I’ve included in this post are pretty inevitable and logically, I had to associate that with Lance. When I turn this song on, everyone enjoys it, and I think Lance deserves to evoke that emotion in everyone as well.

Sergio - AVENTADOR (Dardan, Eno, Noah)

Roll' im Aventador Ich fahr' grad vor Gebe Gas, sag': "¡Adiós!"

[Roll in an Aventador I hit the road Step on the gas, say “¡Adiós!”]

I mean yeah, I could have chosen that song only because of the Adiós but that’s a bit lame even for me. Instead, the entire fast car vibe reminded me a lot of Checo. I’ve always had a bit of a soft spot for him and this year he once again showed people ([coughs] my brother) that he’s been severely underestimated. So stepping on the gas and outpacing everyone else felt like the right vibe.

Kimi - Sorry Not Sorry (Monet192, Takt32, badmómzjay)

Was du für Karriere machst, mach' ich als Hobby Was du für Probleme hast, interessiert keinen

[What you made your career, I do as a hobby What problems you have, no one cares]

The title itself embodies Kimi and so does the entire song. The not giving a shit vibe, paired with the mention of the hobby thing as an indirect reference to the famous Kimi quote about seeing his job more as a hobby, are just 100% Kimi. I really couldn’t have found a better song for him.

Antonio - Maserati (RAF Camora)

Capo dei capi Trip noch im Alfa, doch bald Maserati

[Capo dei capi Trip still in an Alfa but soon in a Maserati]

I did very much not choose the song because “capo dei capi” (the boss of bosses) is a mafia related thing, but because of the Alfa part, duh. Roadtrips in an Alfa along the Adriatic coast are cool and all but a Maserati is obviously the main goal, and that reminds me of Antonio quite a lot ~for some reason~. The entire part about making it far in life without a “serious” job is just very F1, so the vibes are there. Happy very belated birthday Toni <3

Romain - HOCH (CRO)

Alles holt dich down, lass es einfach los Und die Dinge unter dir sind gar nicht mehr so groß Ich schau' nach oben und auf einmal geht's hoch

[Everything drags you down, just let it go And the things below you are not as big anymore I look up and suddenly it goes upwards]

This song is just very peaceful and calms my mind when I listen to it, which radiates the same comforting vibe as Romain. The topic of rising despite things dragging you down are a very prominent topic here and reminded me a lot of him, especially with him leaving Haas and everything around that. It just feels nice to listen to a bit of an uplifting song once in a while, and this one does it in a way that still allows you to feel calm and safe, which is something I associate with Romain a lot.

Kevin - Vorbei (Nico Rosseburg, Sierra Kidd)

Sag mir bitte, wie passe ich die Zeit? Der Augenblick war schön, doch es ist vorbei

[Please tell me, how do I pass the time? The moment was nice but now it’s over]

With Kevin leaving F1, I had to go for this song for him. It’s a bit more of a sad topic (so am I with the knowledge of him not being there next year) but without making the entire thing sound melancholic. I only really learned to appreciate Kevin this year and I’ll miss having him around, so this song kind of fits that idea for me.

George - 20 Zoll MAE (Celo&Abdi, Bonez MC)

Ich fahr' mit Schrittgeschwindigkeit, so wie ein Don Hättest gerne meine Felgen, aber wirst sie nicht bekommen

[I drive at walking pace like a Don You’d like to have my rims but won’t get them]

Making this solely about driving at walking pace would be a bit mean but there’s a part in the song soon after about looking beautiful in a Mercedes, so that’s pretty much George. The song just carries that fun vibe and the subtle (not really) flex, which makes it great to listen to if you want to get in a happier mood. It’s a song about Mercedes rims, of course I had to choose George 😔

Nicholas - Standard (KitschKrieg, SFR, Trettmann, Gzuz, Gringo, Ufo361)

Treff' mich in Miami, fliege nur noch First-Class Nur noch unterwegs, kriege Heimweh

[Meet me in Miami, only flying first class anymore Only on the road anymore, getting homesick]

More ~rich boy vibes~ and a song that has been playing what feels like 24/7 on MTV Germany the last two years. It got so bad that some people around me still reply in the trademark Gzuz voice when someone uses the word “standard”. Anyway, I associate this song with Nicholas because just like KitschKrieg did with their first “own” song, Nicholas has joined the game and left an impression on everyone, in one way or another, and I’m willing to see/hear more of that :)

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happymetalgirl · 4 years

Text

October 2020

Six Feet Under - Nightmares of the Decomposed

I wrote a full-length review of this disaster of an album earlier in the month, and yeah, wow. Between the phoned-in performances from the instrumentalists who have proven themselves far above this joke of a band and the half-assed production this would have been a pretty crappy album even without Chris Barnes’ milk-aged vocals. But he’s here, and he’s managed to actually get worse too, gasping his way through the whole album and littering it with these ludicrous “high” squeals that would make Smeagol sound like a more competent death metal vocalist. It’s the worst thing I’ve heard all year, and what’s worse, I don’t think Six Feet Under is stopping.

1/10

With that out of the way, let’s cleanse the pallet right away with some really good shit.

Greg Puciato - Child Soldier: Creator of God

Ever reliable in his artistically integrity, explosive former Dillinger Escape Plan frontman, Greg Puciato, has been pretty sonically and artistically adventurous since the honorable dissolution of the iconic mathcore outfit, his most notable music project being the ethereal, synth-heavy The Black Queen. This year, however, Puciato has gone fully solo for a full-length project, and something told me to get ready for a wild ride, and boy was I right on that hunch. Borne out of an exponentiated process of songwriting that produced songs Puciato deemed unfitting for any of his current projects, what was planned as a small release to ship these songs out of the writing room eventually spiraled into a full-blown debut solo album clocking in at over an hour. A lot of solo projects play like clearly indulgent amateur hour sessions from an artist whose ego has been boosted pretty well from significant success from their main project, leading them to overconfidently try their hand at music they have no business trying it at. And it’s often approached under the understanding that it is a victory lap, more or less, and a satisfaction of creative impulses for the sake of it. Sometimes the resultant material is clearly inspired and showcases a side of an artist that certainly deserves some spotlight. Other times it feels like being trapped in an awkward situation with an acquaintance where they just show you all their newest pedals and production software and you’re just stuck there watching them fiddle around while you nod along and offer the occasional “wow, that’s pretty crazy” every now and then while they don’t pick up on the obvious cues that you are just waiting for them to finish playing with their toys. While Puciato was open about this album being borne from the very creatively borderless mindset that so often damns solo projects, Child Soldier: Creator of God is an actual realization of the type of grand, genre-spanning album that so many solo artists envision themselves making and set out to create, and it’s hardly a whimsical, amateurish crack at the styles within either. Puciato’s foray into sludge metal, industrial rock, harsh noise, darkwave, synthwave, and shoegaze, (1) makes for a hell of a dynamic and exciting track list, and (2) shows a much deeper than average respect for and relationship with the styles being played here. This isn’t some frontman thinking his charisma can carry him through a whole rap solo album; this is a well-rounded artist (also a hell of a frontman, no denying that) giving the most comprehensive look yet into his creative mind. The album leaps around in patches of different styles, strung together mostly by ambient connective tissue of various types, all with a great attention to detail paid to both texture and progression. We get early patches of smooth ambiance, but also aggressive industrial and sludge metal, eventually moving to more soothing and meditative synthy stuff around the middle, finishing with some serene, Have a Nice Life-esque shoegaze. But really there’s no way to sum up this album stylistically without breaking down every single song on here, and that would just ruin the fun and the experience. You really just have to experience it for yourself.

9/10

DevilDriver - Dealing with Demons I

Embarking on a conceptual double-album, Dez Fafara and DevilDriver’s first installment in the pair is a scoop of the, indeed, slightly above average, but unfortunately still plain and predictable modern groove metal they always offer up. I’ll give the band credit for keeping the pace up and clearly putting substantial energy into the performances on this album, while also trying to squeeze in a few shake-ups to their sound, like the clear Gojira-inspired riffage on the opening track. The album loses steam, unfortunately, as its punches lose their impact as it goes on.

6/10

Anaal Nathrakh - Endarkenment

While certainly cultivating a unique sound, Anaal Nathrakh’s unholy fusion of nasty modern blackened grindcore with sweeter metalcore and melodic death metal elements has its mixed results. And while that might at first sound like a relatively critical assessment of the Brits’ eleventh album, I’d say that there is actually a lot to enjoy and take in for at least the interesting mix of styles, most of which are hits rather than misses as well.

7/10

Enslaved - Utgard

Having been a fan of a good amount of their recent output, especially 2015’s In Times, I came out of Utgard moderately disappointed with how infrequently Enslaved galvanized their potent brand of Viking folky, progressive black metal effectively; the few moments the band do channel their strengths cohesively and purposefully left me wanting more rather than savoring those moments.

6/10

In Cauda Venenum - G.O.H.E.

It’s hard to, and indeed seems kind of in just to, sum up a heaping prog metal serving like G.O.H.E., comprised of two 22-minute halves, in a capsule review, but that is kind of the format my current busy circumstances have forced me into. French outfit In Cauda Venenum made a self-titled debut in similar two-long-track fashion back in 2015, and the band’s gothic and somewhat theatrical brand of atmospheric post-black-metal is continued on their sophomore effort here, drawing the obvious comparisons to Opeth and Katatonia, as well as Der Weg Einer Freiheit, Numenorean, and Sólstafir, and apart from the more frequent sample usage and extra drawn-out songs, there really isn’t that much to differentiate In Cauda Venenum stylistically. The band’s second album, unfortunately, resembles so many others in the field with big aspirations and the same inadequate means of getting there.

5/10

Apparition - Granular Transformation

A much more bite-sized early two-track offering, Apparition’s debut EP offers a more promising glimpse into a heady, atmospheric, yet still visceral manipulation of modern death metal that I would be curious to hear in a more long-form format. In a genre as extreme as death metal in recent years has been, finding artists effective at working with negative space can be difficult, but the two songs on Granular Transformation showcase a formidable dexterity from Apparition that I think can take them places.

6/10

Molasses - Through the Hollow

While indeed marred by some rough performances on songs with sometimes more desert to cross than water to make it there, there’s an undeniable occult hypnotism about the Dio-era-esque doom metal hollow that Molasses ritualize their way through.

7/10

Death Angel - Under Pressure

While certainly an odd choice on the surface, Death Angel’s acoustic EP and cover of the famous Queen song actually comes out pretty alright. The acoustic version of Act III’s “A Room with a View” comes off with the energy of something like Rush whenever they went acoustic, and the original acoustic cut, “Faded Remains” isn’t too bad either. The acoustic format did not, however, mask the drabness of “Revelation Song” from last year’s overall disappointment, Humanicide.

6/10

Necrophobic - Dawn of the Damned

The Swedes’ melodic brand of blackened death metal is nothing if not thorough on the quintet’s ninth full-length, Dawn of the Damned, covering all the ground that their fans expect their style to cover and doing so with more compositional and performative stamina than their average contemporary. While the band’s broader compositional approach is akin to the beating of a dead horse, I can’t deny it produces some tasty motifs in the process.

7/10

Bloodbather - Silence

After coming onto the blossoming metallic hardcore scene in 2018 with a standard, but potent enough 14-minute EP, Pressure, Bloodbather are back with another 14 minutes of similar, yet less promising material, doing little to set themselves apart from or on the same level of the likes of Jesus Piece, Vein, Knocked Loose, or Harm’s Way.

5/10

Infera Bruo - Rites of the Nameless

The Bostonians’ fourth full-length is, at the very least, a rather well-executed forty minutes of modern black metal a la Craft or Watain, but beneath the seams the band’s progressive tendencies twist what would otherwise be a fresh, but standard, slab of black metal into a more head-turning offering of the usual shrieks and blast beats.

7/10

Touché Amoré - Lament

While somewhat shaky in their compositional exploration in their fifth LP, the firmness of their emotive post-hardcore foundation allows for Touché Amoré to build upwards relatively steadily without losing that raw vulnerability that has made them so captivating to begin with.

7/10

Gargoyl - Gargoyl

This is the self-titled debut from Bostonian four-piece Gargoyl; a novel blend of dirty nineties grunge and gothic prog metal, Gargoyl come through with one of the more impressive genre fusions of the year, meeting the lofty sufficiency for dexterity with excessive vocal harmonies in a manner so uncanny that would make habe to Layne Stayley proud. While there is the expected room for improvement on the compositional end that many debut projects come with, Gargoyl have laid the groundwork for themselves fantastically and started off on a good foot.

7/10

Crippled Black Phoenix - Ellengæst

Through creative gothic flair and full-bodied guest vocal contributions that bolster the somber atmosphere beyond the typical post-metal album, the UK band’s most recent offering of “endtime ballads”, despite its few low points that undo its otherwise immersive atmosphere, serves as one of the more engaging releases under the broader post-metal umbrella of the past year.

7/10

Wayfarer - A Romance with Violence

The Denver-based quartet follow up 2018’s strong emotive case for the potential for evoking cathartic power of the atmospheric black metal which has so saturated the American scene to the point of numbness, their Americana-tinged third LP, World’s Blood, unfortunately, with a fourth LP whose compositional homogeneity and mere few intermittent bursts of enthralling atmospheric instrumentation more represent, rather than advocate the merit of, the saturation of the American atmospheric black metal scene.

6/10

Armored Saint - Punching the Sky

Though I think the structural homogeneity and John Bush’s similarly limited vocal delivery holds it back, with crunchy bangers like “Do Wrong to None” and “My Jurisdiction” alongside more tempered tracks the clearly grunge-influenced “Lone Wolf”, Bush and company provide a relatively stylistically diverse traditional heavy metal album for an age that could use more contemporary representation of classic styles (beyond the entire stoner metal genre LARPing as Black Sabbath too).

7/10

Spirit Adrift - Enlightened in Eternity

But it's not just the old guard representing their era of classic heavy metal robustly; a year and a half after their energetically melodic third album, Divided by Darkness, which took a triumphant melodic approach to classic heavy metal and doom metal similar to that of Khemmis on their excellent third album, Spirit Adrift ease up a bit on the hyper-soulful approach to guitar melody that had led me (and others I'm sure) to draw the comparison to Khemmis, and instead dive deeper into the headspace of the genre's earliest progenitors to achieve that unabashedly glorious rallying cry that is evoked by the very front cover of Enlightened in Eternity. While I am personally pretty partial to the very vulnerable and heartfelt melodic approach that characterized Divided by Darkness, the effectiveness with which Spirit Adrift are able to wield the sometimes Maiden-esque, sometimes Testament-esque sounds of the 80’s on this album is undeniably impressive.

8/10

Fever 333 - Wrong Generation

Providing the correction to this generation’s answer to Rage Against the Machine (after Prophets of Rage’s insufficient attempted revival) Fever 333 follow up last year’s debut of heavy, fired-up and modern take on rapcore with another 14 minutes of righteous anti-racist hardcore anger that’s attuned to the issues to a level that I wish more artists would at least express in their art. While the EP is 18 minutes long, the last two songs, “The Last Time” and “Supremacy”, don’t match the sonic energy of the first six tracks. The somber piano-led snippet-length ballad, “The Last Time”, should have been the conclusion of the album, but the closing track, “Supremacy”, while as conscious as the tracks before it, is basically a late-stage formulaic Linkin Park track that flatters neither of the two bands. Despite botching the landing though, Wrong Generation is a ripping batch of songs that well represent the current unrest and provide a positive hypothetical idea of what it might be like if Rage Against the Machine were in their prime and active today.

7/10

Mörk Gryning - Hinsides Vrede

The Swedes return from their 15-year disillusioned absence from the studio with a concise and clearly renewed enthusiasm for the energetic black metal that they put forth on Hinsides Vrede. Dynamically bolstered by folk-metal compositional tendencies and more than a dash of that famed Gothenburg melodicism (I know they’re from Stockholm and in fact their melodic approach often does heaven to that of their close neighbors from Uppsala, Watain), Mörk Gryning’s seamless return to music finds them jumping into the modern black metal scene’s advanced compositional rubric with relative ease.

7/10

Zeal & Ardor - Wake of a Nation

Having covered their output since their debut and being a big fan of Manuel Gagneux’ project, it pains me to say, especially given the noble pretext and occasional momentary flashes of sobering messaging, that this six-song mini release really doesn’t capture the unique sonic pallet that has made Zeal & Ardor such an interesting act to listen to for the past few years in the most flattering light. The title track is possibly the least of the offenders here, but all the songs here function by taking a little snippet of sound that samples Zeal & Ardor’s broader stylistic range, and drawing it out across these short, but all too minimally composed tracks in such a way that they lose their momentum very quickly. Like I said, I wholeheartedly appreciate, sympathize with, and support what Manuel Gagneux is doing to lend his band’s platform to the addressing of the dire issue of today’s racism through musical means with this project, and when its social motivation is at the forefront, it’s at its most potent, but musically, unfortunately, it’s just desperately underwritten in a way that doesn’t fairly represent how accomplished Zeal & Ardor really are with their sound.

5/10

Sevendust - Blood & Stone

The flashes of crushing grooves reminiscent of their earlier work on Blood & Stone that highlight how well Sevendust can harness nu/alternative metal to execute pummeling attacks with the right crunchy guitar tone, unfortunately, don’t come frequently enough on their twelfth LP to mirage the exhaustion that has come of the band’s writing process after such frequent, unrelenting output and the all too apparent desperate need for a recalibrating, refreshing break, which they certainly deserve for their tenacity.

5/10

Undeath - Lesions of a Different Kind

In one of those cases where the ridiculously gratuitous album cover actually represents the album’s sound quite well, Rochester, New York five-piece, Undeath mince neither words nor sounds on their debut LP in their 100% upfront, no-nonsense, and wonderfully nasty delivery of death metal. Eschewing even the slightest sense of snobbery or pretense for aimless ambition, the band simply compile the genre’s tried and true elements of bellowing growls, filthy riffs, mean-ass down-tuned chugging, and blood-pumping double-bass with blast beats into an addictive slab of raw, uncured death metal that serves as a testament to the merit of not overthinking shit.

8/10

Griffon - Ὸ Θεός Ὸ Βασιλεύς

On their sophomore LP, Parisian quintet Griffon channel the world innovative ethos that has become rather prominent in their scene into a somewhat short, but definitely sweet offering of modestly ambitious black metal that captures much more effectively than most albums of similar style and lesser imagination, the divine grandeur that the genre so often tries and fails to embody.

8/10

Bring Me the Horizon - Post-Human: Survival Horror

After taking the hard left into current pop music trends very transparently on their controversial, which was at least partially intentional on their part, and ultimately really patchy, but not wholly awful, 2019 album, amo, Oli Sykes and co. walk it back substantially for this smaller release here, back to That's the Spirit, even Sempiternal, a prospect that might get a lot of the band's more long-time, metalcore-centric fans excited, but I would suggest those fans temper their expectations of Post-Human: Survival Horror. The band reunite with the anthemic metalcore/deathcore that put them on the map for a good chunk of this album, and the intro track, "Dear Diary,", might even give some false hope of the prodigal sons returning home. But songs like the cookie-cutter single, "Teardrops", provide strong evidence that, while the band have re-embraced their old aesthetic, they have not kicked the pop vocal or compositional habits. And the project really does run out of energy in its final third because of this compositional homogeneity. I do want to highlight the song, "Kingslayer", which features a very in-form Babymetal (I loved their album last year), because their fun, not-so-serious approach to the crossing of J-pop and metal music in their feature on this track among the other songs around it provides a contrast to the more formulaic, disinterested radio pop swagger that Bring Me the Horizon have been trying to jam into their sound that could perhaps inform Bring Me the Horizon's artistic approach to integrating pop music if they really are so hellbent on doing so. Ultimately though, as much as they want to move into newer territory, this trajectory-revising release shows just how much more solid Bring Me the Horizon are in their metalcore territory than they were on amo. It had its predictable hiccups, but this thing wasn't too bad.

7/10

Pallbearer - Forgotten Days

With the slow, sludgy, down-tuned riffing of the menacing opening title track and the similar chug of “Vengeance & Ruination” being the sole exceptions, the remainder of Pallbearer’s fouth full-length largely sees them operating in the same niche they have in their three previous albums. And while this could invoke accusations of playing it safe, the brimming heartfelt sorrow and resistance to succumbing to despair across Forgotten Days is enough to wave that away, as Pallbearer showcase just how emotive doom metal can be.

8/10

Bleeding Out - Lifelong Death Fantasy

The very new act and fresh Profound Lore signing, Bleeding Out, certainly display more dynamic capability than your average local grindcore scene’s biggest names here on their 18-minute debut for the label, but as of now it is still just a glimpse of potential for more effective future implementation. It’s a good start, though, and I’ll be looking forward to a more long-form project from these guys.

6/10

Evildead - United States of Anarchy

Every year we get the resurrection of some long-inactive old-school band who seem to have found that missing spark at last; we’ve seen the return of smaller bands to the studio like Angel Witch or Sorcerer and long-awaited revivals of iconic acts like Possessed. This year, Los Angeles’ Evildead has seen fit to make their commentary on the massive ongoing sociopolitical upheaval. Despite my love for the 80’s thrash scene they were born out of, the combination of the utterly lame band name, logo, and covers for either their ‘89 or ‘91 albums never really made me want to check them out, but seeing the horridly cheesy and incoherent cover of United States of Anarchy (I mean how much more on-the-nose can you get), my morbid curiosity got the best of me. Maybe I’d be wrong to have judged them by their cover, plenty of my favorite 80’s albums have particularly goofy cover art. So what do we get from Evildead in 2020 with this fucking album? Well, it’s not as poorly performed as the past few Anvil albums I’ve had to review have been, but Jesus the lyricism is similarly cheesy 5th-grade-level stuff and smacks of silly political incoherence that essentially boils down to “enlightened centrism” with mix of that good ol’ Illuminati-conspiracy-theory belief that no political thrash album is apparently complete without. I mean there’s just basic acknowledgment of the prominent problems of the day and the fact that both major political parties are bad and that corruption is rampant all throughout DC, but Evildead not only barely scratch the surface, they apply the same level cynicism to the “both sides” they criticize with no substantiation to their criticism despite that mindset being a big reason for our being where we are right now, mixed in with the occasional conspiracy-paranoia about the shadowy underworld running everything, so no real solutions or even proper addressing of these problems. Like, the same level of criticism is levied at right-wingers and communists, like communists are at all why this country has gone to shit. And the generic Anthrax/Megadeth type of thrash instrumentation, while rumbly and mixed well to highlight its bass heaviness, doesn’t exactly make it easy to get past the commentary deficiencies on here.

4/10

Emma Ruth Rundle & Thou - May Our Chambers Be Full

Rounding off their year (at least I think), with a long-teased collaboration with Emma Ruth Rundle, Thou finally present their massive sludge-doom sound in a much more flattering light than the previous cover albums this year did. Thou's original material continues to highlight just why their relatively stiff sound is much more cut out for that, original material, than for trying to bend beyond its flexibility to tribute grunge songs. And while Thou being back in their more effective department, Emma Ruth Rundle's contributions, beyond just her gorgeous and ethereally haunting vocals, to the album's atmosphere, dynamic, and structuring really take the collaboration to the next level. Not to say that Thou are completely overshadowed and relegated to the background on this record or that they don't contribute to a fair share of the legwork here; the workload is shared pretty equally, and both collaborators have their moments of prominence, but Emma Ruth Rundle's ever-present gothic/folky influence really directs the music in a way that plays to Thou's strengths in a way I'm not sure they would have been able to on their own. It's great work from both of them, and I'd be eager to hear Thou find more collaborations like this in the future that push them into doing more interesting things with their crushing doom sound, as opposed to the rather tepid collaborations with The Body.

8/10

Auðn - Vökudraumsins Fangi

Sadly, three albums in, Auðn have only barely exceeded the bare minimum for naturalistic atmospheric black metal, with no signs of significant improvement to be found. The Icelandic band earn points for their earnest delivery, but they never seem to fully make it out of the rut that the genre’s many contemporary acts have dug.

5/10

Botanist - Photosynthesis

The black metal traditionalists might have had to accept that the floodgates to bright ambience and serene shoegaze in the genre have been opened and that there's no going back now, but even as an avid Deafheaven fan, I'm sometimes momentarily surprised at just how heavenly some black metal has gotten lately, and this new album from Botanist is one of those albums. And while it sometimes slips into some of the current wave's typical ruts, the sheer blindingly illuminating aura of this album when it reaches those high points (and it does so frequently) is enough to pull it out from those gutters and high into the cosmos. Yeah, another splendid offering of nature worship from Botanist.

8/10

Mr. Bungle - The Raging Wrath of the Easter Bunny Demo

Making their return after over a decade, Mike Patton recruits both Dave Lombardo and Scott Ian for the long-awaited fourth Mr. Bungle album, which is titled in homage to the first Mr. Bungle demo which it is comprised largely of much clearer re-recordings of. Ever impressive, Mike Patton balances aggression and eccentricity like a tightrope walker on this project too, while his bandmates do the same with thrash metal’s natural adrenaline rush while pushing the genre into new compositional and stylistic territory without sacrificing that crucial whiplash. It’s a great time, and definitely one of the year’s best thrash albums.

8/10

Carcass - Despicable

While they've been much less prolific since their reboot than they were prior, Liverpool's melodic death metal pioneers simply continue to demonstrate their excellence in this seemingly effortless four-track appetizer to next year's Torn Arteries. Anyone familiar with the band's brutal form of melodic death metal will certainly be pleased with the four quite sufficiently pulverizing cuts here; those who may only be familiar with some of the band's many less muscular imitators might be surprised, and pleasantly so, with the Englanders' ability to lay on the infectious guitar melody without sacrificing an ounce of force.

8/10

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