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sugar-petals · 4 years

Text

Group Sex With SuperM

SUMMARY: creating a group chat is all it takes.

↳ A/N. yep, we’re going there.

words. 14k

WARNINGS ⚠️ friends to lovers hc, porn with plot, idol au, sex w/ all members individually and together, dom/sub dynamics, corruption kink, sexting, blowjobs & cunnilingus, gaping, graphic, pegging, bondage, light foot fetish, sex toys, spitroasting (m receiving), brat taming, dick riding, protected sex, doggystyle, cuddling aftercare

curious about an eightsome are we

understood

how’s the state of things then?

last september you decided to open an entire group chat just for planning your juicy sexual activities together

and oh lord is it active

and full of ideas

and explicit videos

and emojis

and excitement

yesterday taemin sent a clip of lusciously covering himself in champagne foam for you

wearing close to nothing

in fact just a piece of gauze, a snake-shaped necklace, and probably a bit of perfume

oh boy

watching that was an out-of-body experience for sure

the entire chat basically imploded with reactions

but hey hey

not so fast

we need to go through everything from the start

to see how all these utterly historic events happened to unfold

so where did all that come from?

first off

befriending super m outside work (eating together, fooling around, bingwatching stuff, you know)

...means there’s no point nor chance in having a permanent favorite with a group like this

every member truly is the creme de la creme

super m is the package of the entire packages

they are so legendary you can bias each member for one day of the week

and never run out of that pure bliss

in fact

you all agreed to do exactly that on a regular basis to get to know each other casually

it just naturally happened

seven days seven members that’s just logical

you can’t always hang out together in full attendance so you split up your times and set specific days

you change that routine very often depending on your individual moods

but it usually goes like this because you want to develop closer bonds with them one-on-one

so this is how it ends up

mondays you work out with xuxi. oh, that sexy smiley man. his body is the ultimate bomb. is there something better than doing sit-ups next to him? anybody’s sports motivation would go through the roof. and if there’s someone you call to share a pile of food with? it’s just gotta be him. being with yukhei is self-care.

tuesdays, you visit ten to check out his latest dance moves. and: to have a huge cuddle session with the cats. sometimes, you watch whatever series you’re in the mood for. it’s always a time to slow down and mend your sore muscles from monday anyway. you think ten is so interesting and talented, and super pretty, truly one of a kind.

on wednesdays jongin and you often end up on long midnight walks with the dogs or you both look after his cute nieces. meeting up at the river han is a staple, you get ice cream and snacks. you adore kai because he’s a sweetheart and steadfast person, and admittedly... so damn hot, holy hell. being with him makes you feel great.

thursday is baekhyun day and full of cheeriness as you’d expect. long hours of gaming, cheeky skinship, banter, and pizza eating await you at his apartment. you adore this mochi for his everything, he makes you laugh uncontrollably so much. sometimes, you also comfort him when he doesn’t feel good about himself or exhausted from practice. he will sing anything you want, baekhyun is like your personal 24/7 radio station.

fridays it’s time for the studio. mark is crafting his most fire bars and loves to have you around there. you inspire him a lot. he’s just completely astounding and the sweetest to you. friday most people would go clubbing, but super m just has to meet up in the studio. no paparazzi, and the music is obviously danceable. i’m telling you: this mob can jop, duh.

saturday is for handsome taeyong who loves coming to your home. cooking, organizing, doing the laundry, and browsing youtube together is the best thing. taeyong is the shyest goodest boy and a great listener. he gives great advice and is the epitome of respectful. you just vibe very well together.

sunday you dedicate to taemin. you watch artsy films, experiment with outfits, and he plays the piano for you so expertly. man, you are lucky. he’s like a fairy to you, and a connoisseur, a mythical figure almost. since he’s a newly-found cat dad, you easily fill your day playing with the most interesting kitten that is lee kkoong. sometimes, you even meet shinee members dropping by.

so yes this is what paradise looks like

and they all love to engage with you in their own way and you develop favorite ways to spend time, they put so much effort into this

it goes without saying that you all realize how hard you’re crushing as the weeks pass

like can you imagine

all the hormones i swear

you’ve already been joking to them that you have seven boyfriends some months ago

well the prophecy is fulfilled faster than you can blink

when you meet up as eight for a movie night at baekhyun’s, the atmosphere feels pretty frisky

because lucas is sending you ten thousand glances and certainly nobody misses that

if this guy is laughing at your every word i mean

meanwhile taeyong is having a nervous meltdown at your every comment about the movie, it’s ridiculous, he’s smitten as fuck, he looks at you like you’re an actual goddess

mark keeps on making glimmering eyes at you as well, and he asks you if you want popcorn every two minutes

baekhyun is all curled up close to your lap and not even watching the movie because his face is almost nuzzled into your sweater for fuck’s sake

taemin has spent the entire preperation in complete frenzy making sure there are scented candles everywhere and the snacks are exquisite and costly. mother taemresa? at full throttle. he even used his own damn credit card.

meanwhile kai suffers from his fidgety legs, constant hair fixing and even more inability to concentrate on the movie

because damn, he knows he wants your attention. he literally came around with the tightest shirt he owns so there’s that. you can see every little muscle doing its thing when he does as much as breathe. kai is now well aware he came to impress. it won’t take him a lot to realize he wants to be even closer to you than doing midnight walks.

ten is so firmly snuggled up next to you, he might as well be your cat himself. if ten starts acting like a clingy feline instead of being in roast mode, you know he’s lovestruck i’m telling ya

needless to say

the mood in the room is hard to ignore

hell there are romance candles everywhere all those hecking rose fumes are to blame

surprise surprise all the members try to sit as close as possibly to you the more the movie progresses

even abandoning the couch and seats to sit on the ground in front of you instead

“you want popcorn?”

“like some more popcorn?”

“here, have my popcorn!“

“more popcorn?”

“hey do you want popcorn?”

from all sides, constantly

the m in super m stands for making sure you have popcorn

you never run out

like when the leading lady is pulling out a cigarette in those old hollywood flicks and at least twenty guys are scurrying to offer a lighter

i’m exaggerating but

nobody even knows what kind of movie they’re watching tonight though

the elephant in the room is trumpeting too loud to understand the dialogue

you’re surrounded by seven big ole hotties who have fallen for you

it was inevitable

it’s more than clear to everyone that they all like you and you couldn’t be any more fluttered yourself

let the hunger games begin

i’m jopping i mean i’m joking

this is not the wwe

it’s pretty clear to the boys that if they fight you’re gonna be so unhappy and your quality time together is ruined

you adore them all, and they’d be regretful about hurting their own bonds

and anyway

if it came down to it and the bad blood was really escalating um...

...ten would destroy all of the competition

there’s no denying

by the simple virtue of his badassery and winning disease

quickly reducing all his opponents to a pile of dust so fine-grained, the great freddie mercury himself would resurrect to sing the soundtrack in the background and pump his fist

imagine that. superm actually being gladiators i mean wasn’t that the entire jopping mv

baekhyun would try to pull the leader authority card and use his hapkido martial arts skill but ten would obliterate him anyway so

even if taemin put on a dark robe and drew a salt circle to summon a million snakes from hell, ten would win the fight to a fault

but that’s too apocalyptic and outside of that thought experiment the boys are actually kinda shy so... let’s scratch that

there are seven days of the week with good reason

you ease the uncertainty and tension by saying you’d truly fail as a tv bachelorette

everyone understands that deciding would be impossible and cheating is shit

why give someone a rose and break 6 hearts when you can hand out a whole damn bouquet

it’s more stylish my friend

and for what reason would ten want to face off against taemin and his army of snakes in the first place. they’re ten’s greatest inspiration

nor does kai have any tighter shirts

he already ran out, he brought his A game from the get-go

on top of that the popcorn is empty there’s no more to offer

so you remain with the idea to just keep your daily routine

xuxi monday, ten tuesday and so on

keeps everything in order

it’s fair

plus it doesn’t mess with their schedules

usually unless a big award show is coming up but that can be re-planned in advance as well

you know... things can develop in their own timing with each member

it’d be awkward to expect everyone to be on the same stage at once

baekhyun is comfortable with all kinds of back hugs while taeyong and taemin are still completely flustered and turn all wobbly at just a greeting wave

you know what i mean

it’s already clear everyone loves you very differently

some members are more straightforward, others take it slow, it’s just a normal thing

that’s when the group chat is born

it’s still very sfw

compared to how explicit it’ll be in the future ahem

and everyone is overcautious with writing something except baekhyun, the eternal extrovert

for now you keep each other updated on how it’s all going with trivial details

earlier you just had individual chats and baekhyun arranged the group meetings since he knows the schedule best

now it’s all in one spot so that works

everyone’s curiosity is quenched at least a little bit

and they see each other anyway and put their heads together

baekhyun will be the most open about how far your skinship slowly develops followed by lucas and kai who oggle each other in their usual tom and jerry manner

which you have an eye on

you tell the members something very important for when they’re envious

or feel the need to one-up or catch up

it’s the sign to get closer to you and that they’re ready for taking another step. that’s literally what jealousy is all about

that advice helps them out a lot actually

kai takes that to heart in particular because he knows he’s prone and feels bad about it

and they also learn from ten who carries a quiet happiness with confidence that doesn’t need comparison, but he can also talk very honestly about how he’s standing with you to the point

ten knows how it’s done

as expected of such a competent man

like he’s kissed your hands very lightly but he doesn’t feel the need to show it off all day

and he also leads by example together with taemin and taeyong how one can give compliments even when not being involved in something

“you’re looking adorable together“ as taemin would often say about you hanging out with kai or baekhyun

a lot of praise culture is developing in the group chat

you like to see it

and now for the other elephant in the room

as for who will ask you to sleep with him first

(and mind you at this point they’re all walking around with condoms in their backpacks and jackets)

believe it or not

after the finishing touches on his latest mixtape (oh yes), and those tracks have you feeling some kind of way oh shit, mark gathers all his courage

yes it’s mark lee

literally he steps into the blaze of bravery of jongin when he first put on a crop top

and gets out a little “can we... some time... you know...” after you’re having some pretzel sticks together and awkwardly sitting around

oh what's gonna happen next huh?

you say you’ve been thinking about it a lot

that he has a great body doesn’t go unseen

and tell him how you imagine it with him

long story short you’ll have your first quickie in the sound booth that night

cutting straight to the chase

him steadily penetrating you from behind, you leaning closely with your back to his chest

just standing and enjoying the rhythm

that dick. is amazing.

oh god, mark lee

long, curved, smooth, a classic

meanwhile your fave rapper is definitely going through it

his arms tell you everything

that’s an embrace for the books

he’s hugging you like his life depends on it

you can just take in how he’s been showering twice today this guy is clean as fuck he smells so good

getting off from shampoo and fabric softener is not what you expected but it definitely makes you clench

you both know he’s not gonna last for more than six minutes and that’s ok

that’s a lot of long-held frustration released into that condom

and a lot of passion put into how he puts his guitar fingers to work on your clit afterwards

jimi ‘lee’ hendrix has arrived

oh yeah mark, you fucking treat, fuck it up

that way you won’t last long either since you guide his finger tips to your favorite spot and the motherfucker completely goes for it

“like this, like, um?”

and he goes off with the wrist

oh shit

it’s all kept so short and simple and you’re on the oldest mustard-colored studio couch that ever existed but mark lee is mark fucking lee nothing can obstruct his quality

like this guy has some serious skills with the angles

that orgasm is gonna get some moans you didn’t know you were capable of out of you

never wasting time, that guy is he

mark definitely fucks like he raps. fast and good

you cool down together looking each other in the eyes, forehead to forehead, for like fifteen minutes, and you give each other little chaste kisses all over your faces and he melts every time

your little rendezvous was definitely so needed

you ask if you can bring some vibes to play around with and a watermelon next time

you don’t have to ask twice

mark is so damn happy

and the timing was right

straightforward and spontaneous. that definitely works well with mark

no complaints, you go home feeling comfortably refreshed. you’ve told him he could tell the others or wait to do it, this is up to his comfort because he is shy

neither happens

after just one glance at him the next day while the group is doing a photoshoot

baekhyun already knows mark slept with you

he just knows

and makes a loud “ohh wow, you did it” noise

ten takes two only glances to understand what’s going on too

mark nods and the whole group is highstrung for the entire day

like a hive of bees oh yes

kai is massively proud of raising mark so well but also really surprised

unlike taemin who calmly advised mark on many things in advance

guess where mark’s fingering skills originate from

he took some secret pointers from the king

taeyong is shook at his rap buddy’s singleminded grit to just spontaneously ask you

while baekhyun...

is keeping it together repeating the anti-jealousy mantra you gave him in his mind

“jealousy means to get closer jealousy means to get closer jealousy means to get closer jealousy means to get closer....“

it makes him realize oh god he really wants to be inside of you badly as well

you ain’t dumb, you see his change of tone from cute to sexy in the group chat even if he might not notice

baekhyun is trying extra hard to make you react to him

he posts so many cute selfies with kissy faces

needless to say taeyong’s time slot gets postponed to next thursday while you visit baekhyun this evening

it works for taeyong because he still needs to think some things through

the news overwhelmed him a little and he is shy about meeting up but that’s not a problem for you

and it’s better to get together with your mochi sooner because you both know there’s a lot of banging to do

like seriously

your mood tells you that candy’s on the menu today

oh yeah. it’s time to be all over your clingy lil’ honey bunny

there’s not much endless wooing involved it goes to the point very fast after you arrive at his home

you just wanna stop pretending and fuck like animals and see his brain melt from it

remember how baekhyun once said he doesn’t fancy nice girls

that’s what he meant by that

mattress earthquake

he wants you fully riled up with arousal and addicted to touching and grabbing him

yeah baekhyun gets off on your desire

that’s not hard to accomplish when he makes big puppy eyes and puts his tongue on your neck

with that gomez addams shit... kissing up your arm and then popping off as soon as he gets there

congrats morticia

here is a man who can handle ya

he’s being so slobbery and moany about it that it knocks the breath out of you

that shit is so good

baekhyun is not just a pro at giving head my friend it’s also giving neck

and unlike mark, may god have mercy on you, baekhyun keeps on going and going and kissing and kissing and he wants to lick up all of you so bad

we know how needy and stamina-heavy this fella is

baekhyun is super m’s most insatiable member by fucking far

he’s like just give it to me and you’re like ok here we go

this guy is burning up oh god

that’s an evening of ten thousand positions, fearless cumplay, and a lot of face-sitting

super m’s most unleashed tongue right here

thank god you worked on your fitness with xuxi otherwise you couldn’t do this

he’s moaning in some harmonic scales or something it’s a whole concert

baekhyun is fully at it with you in every room of his flat with his whole neck and underarms looking mighty veiny

yeah he even carries you around to make it short and simple he’s one impatient bun

he can lift up sehun bridal style so no worries

mochi is smol and thin but he won’t drop you i promise

he’s fueled by horny boyfriend hormones and wants to give you the greatest night of all nights

and hit all the amazing spots

baekhyun aims to make your pussy lips throb and fall completely in love with him

and the bridge of his nose if you get what i’m saying

he’s also versatile in his clothing choices

if you say keep your nerdy glasses on, oh yeah they stay on

just a little challenge to see if you can ride him hard enough to see them fall off

and that dick is not some extra long lasso mark lee calibre

so he can really bend it more and thrust with ease at many angles

talking about mark

he regrets not asking you earlier but you tell baekhyun that this way was much better because you unceremoniously skipped to the fucking instead of messing around

if it wasn’t for mark’s courage to break the ice even with a choppy sentence

you’d still be awkwardly looking each other in the eyes while munching pizza

all hail mark lee nervous legend

this way, baekhyun goes all out with fewer restraint and the burden of being first with making the impression that comes with it

we all know he’s too self-conscious for his own mochi good so that’s a better way to start out

this way baekhyun will have sex with you until he’s passed out on his bed

knocking him out like that might as well become your favorite hobby

even minutes after your tongue still feels like it’s knotted together with his honestly, the muscle memory is kicking in

and this must be the most dick thrusts you’ve ever gotten in one night

baekhyun really wants to be all inside you, make you feel him

if the condom broke at least his baby will be easy to identify from day one

it’ll come out and belt a perfect G#5

he gave it all my god you stopped counting the times you came your pussy is just dripping wet it feels crazy

and his voice has become all raspy i—

that was baekhyun’s hardest vocal run yet i swear

the contraception shelf in the convenience store next to his house is close to empty

but there’s no need to buy more

what you two perverts have been up to is enough for comfortably going through 10 years of celibacy

baekhyun is content and sleeps like a baby

you hold your bun for like two hours afterwards and never want to let him go

you are as wobbly as taeyong after getting a head pat from you

and the most well-kissed girl in this city tonight

both sets of lips

what a smoochy boyfriend

you even get the chance to jerk baekhyun off in his half-sleep after he wakes up and asks you to put your hand in his pants

guess who opens his mouth very wide to lick his own semen off your fingers with some really obscene noises

it’s his royal nastiness byun baekhyun

who sucks your tiddies to drift back into sleep again

with his hands in your pants

god bless this man

the group chat is sending 👀 emojis all the way throughout the night

your boys know love is in the air

they’re loosening up the timing is right again

you send cute smiling emojis

a bunch of “ahs” and “ohs” come through via voicemail

and lucas even writes: “so who’s next? 😳”

damn

you reply boldly: “the one asking that”

the group chat becomes a buzzing beehive again

from which you extract that kai is also very interested while ten, taeyong and taemin prefer waiting a little more

but this time you don’t switch time slots since you’ll meet xuxi on monday already

kai wants to set up something nice and prepare the catering and whatnot (alright you rich man)

so it’s gonna be wednesday as usual with him

so far so good that’s the plan

sunday being taemin day, you get together to read and paint and listen to music

you feel like just doing some sensual kissing with him and taemin is very down

yeah baby he is the kissing king, taemin is hot stuff, he knows exactly what he’s doing, those lips are the pillows at the gates of heaven

losing your mind is a staple when you do that with him

just making out on the couch surrounded by the nicest arrangement of pot plants you’ve ever seen while it rains completely relaxes you and the serotonin is off the charts

he holds you so gently and tastes so good

what is it, rose water or something like that

he even put on his coziest sweater so you’ll love leaning against him

TL;DR taemin is the biggest fucking romantic in the history of SM

that was so seductive you’ll be dreaming about it

applause for lee taemin please

perfect contrasting programme: just hours later

yeah here it goes now

monday starts with xuxi stripping more than he usually does

at the makeshift gym in his room while he’s on the treadmill

with his hair freshly dyed the most himbo shade of blonde ever

and yeah that’s blonde with an e because yukhei is too sexy to be called a blond. what an ugly word to look at

he’s a blondé

so that’s nice

he’s so dtf you just skip the workout

time for lubed condoms.

i don’t have to tell you that you literally jump on him

or that you’ll be dealing with super m’s singlemost biggest equipment

he doesn’t even have to drive it home an inch by himself you’re already riding him

he can’t handle all that gear in the first place

because how do you even develop a technique with such an unrealistic dick

hell how do you even exist like that

so it’s clear who’s taking the lead

all he has to do is work that body but it sort of happens on its own

himbo autopilot

you are going hard and chaotic on this man

xuxi doesn’t even know what hit him

he’s so vocal and excited

you fuck him while he holds you up, get down on several gym benches, have him bend you forward at the bathroom sink...

...and you attend business in ten’s room on a desk and window sill

because it’s the most silent there and doesn’t disturb xiaojun’s beauty sleep

ten has discreetly ushered you there and preoccupies himself in the kitchen with the cats

he knows how the game is played

either floor ‘em all or always watch out for others

MVP

but you are secretly wondering what ten is plotting because he has some serious self-control and observation skills

given how tidy his room is... whatever his plans are you can look forward to it

xuxi is definitely suffering from your heavy duty cock destruction in the meantime while being in heaven at the same time

that dick is worn out and dripping

so much bouncing is even gonna make the biggest boy lose it

milking that orgasm out of him is gonna be so gratifying yum

the deep and defeated moans, my god he really surrenders to the pleasure

wow that was almost as to-the-point as studio sex with mark

no idle talk in nct huh

you clean each other all exhausted and then gobble up three bowls of noodles each

then sleep for two hours in each other’s arms

then do a second round because this guy is really getting you going and yukhei wants to live this monday to the fullest

like this man gives you previously unknown levels of energy

must be the blonde hair. it does sexy things when yukhei is twitching

this time it’s a dick blowing festival

oh yeah

the type where you’re so sloppy with your head bops, he doesn’t even know where to put his hands and needs to think emergency thoughts

oh yeah big dicks make for some nice slurpy noises that sound really plump you know what i mean

he’s gonna realize very soon you do this shit for your own entertainment

and get all kinds of squeaks and faces out of him

only little pauses help him keep up the stamina so he asks you to pull off for a bit every two minutes or so

he has to look elsewhere and distract his mind with thinking about washing the dishes

girl... your tongue has this man sweating major bullets

you’re big on the corruption kink are you

once again

xuxi is gonna be so shaken and pass the fuck out from cumming

and he thought he was a horny guy

his soul must have left his body and that scalp is probably dead

but bleaching was worth it (he looks like a sleeping angel now)

not to mention banging all over the wayv dorm

ten got a preview of what’s expecting him

not that he doesn’t know he reads you well

lucas promises to return the oral favor next monday and finally collapses entirely in the living room wearing only boxers

nothing new for wayv, great sight for you

not a single workout routine has exhausted xuxi this much

he needs 10 hours of sleep to reboot

“she’s so wild 😲😂😍” is gonna be what he’ll summarize it as in the group chat later

first big boy taken down

the second one follows

wednesday is right around the corner

oh yes

kai definitely goes off with the preparation you are not ready for this spectacle

he redecorated his entire kitchen and bathroom to perfection with flowers, lanterns, dim light, petals, expensive fabrics draped from the ceiling, and there’s a great view on night time seoul

you can tell he’s best friends with taemin

i mean they’re the greatest entertainers of their time of course their taste is great

always going the extra mile

the black, sheer shirt with a deep cleavage that kai put on is nothing short of a treat

is that a lace choker he’s wearing

and his hair is pushed back lord have mercy

you get pretty weak in the knees at that

the catering leaves nothing to be desired either. a full 3-course sicily-style italian meal with 100% organic ingredients and beautiful basil and thyme garnishings

to set the mood afterwards jongin does what he does best

don’t tell me you didn’t see this one coming

just a chair for you, some music, and him

is this like a whole damn private concert?

he has prepared an entire setlist to thrill you with selected styles of dance

even a rendition of salsa, swing, and tango argentino

i’m telling you...

if kim jongin moves his body for you like that you’ll be fucking hooked and honored and not believe your eyes

what a feast

prepare for a serious case of dropped jaw

and jongin being an absolute daredevil dancing incrementally close to your chair

he incorporates all these little moments of skinship

where he strokes your hair, your jaw, or takes your hands

while at the same time he’s completely destroying it on the dancefloor

with those scorching hips and how he works it on the carpet right in front of you

you’re about to fucking melt

what a time to be alive

the sheer shirt’s buttons are holding onto dear life as do his pants

kai’s movements are becoming extremely ecstatic

what a fucking lapdance 2.0

men have clearly evolved otherwise this wouldn’t be happening

kai dances like a king on a stage but jongin? is god-like when he dances with just one person as the audience

shiit

and because he’s very nervous

he work particularly hard to ace it

in his mind he’s already underneath you judging by how he’s moving

...you can definitely fancy a luscious private concert each wednesday

and for designated activities in the bathroom

he even made a whole 5-hour playlist of the finest songs

so he can make you grind on top of him

don’t tell me kai isn’t the master of courting

king of effort

i don’t have to tell you that this is gonna be the most sensual night you’ve ever had

kai will get to know your body very, very well

those hips never stop do they

the fact that thursday is baekhyun day right after this?

wow aren’t you exhausted

the orgasms just seamlessly continue huh

everything goes on like that

friday you have a toy-filled, passionate evening at the studio with mark who’s doing the most

let’s say mark just has good ‘vibes’ indeed

this almost gets as messy as your first time with lucas

have fun cleaning up that couch, canada

what a sex marathon

if you don’t have your period

there’s always a lot of action going on

or actually. you do catch a break for the weekend

saturday you bake delicious, pistacio and pecan-crusted sticky buns with taeyong

who also shows you the new fledgelings that have hatched in his apartment

so adorable

sunday you endlessly make out with taemin in the sheets who has of course heard of jongin putting on a show

so he dances for you as well and even does the hands-tied criminal choreo in an especially luscious rendition (aka extra heavy breathing and grinding on the floor, and doing splits that almost rip his pants)

oh yes my love

nothing really happens afterwards you just have dinner completely flustered

if lee taemin dances, sex becomes redundant and doesn’t compare anymore

but really now

the slow burn is unbearable with him for fuck’s sake

taemin knows how to work up the seduction bit by bit

you basically masturbate all evening after returning to your house

god. what to do with this guy

on monday you ravage yukhei’s dick and get all that head

xuxi is a chaotic fella but he keeps his promises

plus you get the best full-body massage of your life

and for the first time pull out your phone to basically livestream yourself riding him

so the whole chat can watch for five minutes

yep. you learned that courage thing from mark lee

the camera work is obviously subpar but the video definitely has maximum effect

kai and baekhyun stream their reaction right alongside your broadcast

“woah woah oh my god oh my god!!”

everyone’s freaking out, everyone stops whatever they’re doing, everyone is glued to their screens, they love your body moving

you’re having a blast

especially when you stream another round an hour later and lucas holds the camera now

his arm is perfect for that by the way

strong and stable and high up in the air

so you can do your thing on that fat dick with a bonus of the sexiest xuxi moans ever

that deep but soft tone... yukhei really got a perfect groaning voice huh

after getting steamy for almost ten minutes, you get some great close-ups of your pussy after having yukhei pull out mid-romp

because that gape is for the gods

don’t kid yourself with a dick like that inside you’ll be opening a little wider

it looks and feels even better with lucas tracing his long fingers inside of it

with the closeup zooming in even more while he’s putting his thumb on your clit

mmh that’s good stuff

six very shaky boys are sitting in front of their phones right now being able to look um very deeply inside of you

baekhyun is basically frozen to a statue on the reaction stream and salivates nonstop it’s just running down his neck at this point

his wettest dreams are right in front of him

stretched out pussy all juicy and swollen? baekhyun’s lifeblood. he’s seeing god

he turns up the brightness of his phone to maximum so he can see every little detail

remember. this guy loves to be inside of you so obsessively he wants to pay rent to live in there

so he’s appreciating an HD view of his favorite place, really deep and really pulsing and really soaked

yukhei has slathered you in lube and really pushed apart your muscles very gently, no abrasion, you relaxed so nicely around him

it’s feeling good as fuck

kai who’s watching right next to baekhyun just stares with big eyes

every injury he ever got while dancing is suddenly healed

he’s a new man his spine has put itself together his legs are reborn

taeyong almost falls off his chair when he tunes in

he’s that bewildered

he just types a big WOW and a wall of blushing emojis

the explicit songs he’s been listening to and whatever he’s been rapping about recently are nothing in comparison to this

finally someone climbed up to taeyong’s level of nastiness

and he thought he’d never find someone on eye level

secretly he loves the nice view but he won’t admit how much

meanwhile he will rewatch this over and over for the whole week at least five times a day

and then there’s taemin

| adorable 😊🤗🎀 6v6

| can you put the camera a bit closer again 👉👈

| and turn on the flash if that’s ok 😳

| ah thank you 💟

i don’t know what taemin has seen or heard or experienced in his life and what made him this way but damn he loves that graphic shit

turning on the flash makes even yukhei’s jaw drop and rub your clit even faster

he’s damn proud he could make your pussy open up to him this way as he should be

cuz he’s really been improving his Big Cock Techniques (BCT)

mark doesn’t write anything but he’s online and streaming so yeah he’s jerking off

with two hands

baekhyun is typing how much he loves the wet sounds and how great the fingering action is

and he’s damn right. telepathy

that’s your favorite pervert right there yeehaw

in the meantime yukhei’s brain is empty he’s just smiling bright and enjoying the moment and the attention and your body

ten is basically next door because this is the fucking wayv dorm

you can hear him choke on his coffee and whisper ‘oh my fucking god, oh shit’ to himself

the phone almost topples into the sheets while lucas is putting all those rubs and circles into your clit but the audio is already telling the boys to watch very closely anyway because here it comes

taeyong is probably falling apart by now given how he’s posting a couple fragmented sentences that you try to decipher on yukhei’s phone

until you get close and take up filming yourself again

so yukhei can make a video with his own phone as well

yep that’s two cameras on you by now not just one

xuxi’s been such a steadfast babe

and he gets to see the fruits of his work. for one, just how much of an imprint he left with his cock inside you

and second how hard he can make you cum now

those big fingers are magic on you

taemin gets all the closeups he ever needed from your camera because you hit the zoom even more

yukhei starts kissing you twice

not as carefully as he often would

it’s the really wet and passionate version this time

he films your lower faces as good as he can

those big fucking lips

they never fail to make you get the hots

they’re really made to do all this are they

his tongue nips into you with extra saliva on board

you suck it into your own mouth and mix it with yours, and gather some more

and slip your tongue above his in return

yukhei makes sure you can hear him swallowing all that warm runny spit and moans into your mouth

guess who just blew one big juicy load into the condom

and he’s not even inside of you

jesus christ yukhei

looks like french kissing is his orgasm button

you start sucking on his tongue when it slides back between your lips and you make them really tight and puckering

the noise is so delicious

yukhei shoots the rest of his semen into the condom

you go even harder on him, the kiss gets really deep

kai and baekhyun are literally jumping up and down on their beds by now

taemin and mark are sending star-eyed emojis

ten is definitely beating the meat next door

yukhei’s hand is massaging incessantly between your legs

he makes you feel. so. good.

when he retreats from the kiss you’re ready

you can hardly keep the phone stable in your palm

yukhei also points his camera back at your pussy again

and makes sure to catch every contraction

you know an orgasm is good when you’re going all “oh... ohh...”

even taeyong goes online to stream his reaction because you cum so beautifully

he’s actually crying and can’t close his mouth he can’t believe what he’s seeing

your pussy lips are so sloppy and stretched apart and twitching and you make sure the camera catches every bit

it takes almost half a minute until your muscles calm

you tell yukhei to clean it up with those plump lips of his

baekhyun and taemin are violently agreeing with thousands of “YESS EAT UP!!!” and “yes!! 😊♥︎🌹” text bubbles in the chat

your guys are so cute do you realize that

in order to have both hands free, lucas ends his video, puts his phone aside, and is already licking you up like a whole bowl of whipped cream

you keep on streaming on your own phone and brush the hair out of his face

the best part is catching yukhei’s tongue winding between your lips and then spoiling your pussy with big kisses very very slowly as not to overstimulate you

he’s such a fast learner he’s doing it really well

once you’re satisfied and cool off, you stroke the back of his neck and his favorite boyfriend duties are officially on pause

so he can go to pull off the condom and clean himself up, and get ready for bed after a quick mini snack

while you blow kisses into the camera, flirt with all your babes while they flirt back and even bow to you

and film your pussy all swollen and licked up but slowly closing a little bit again, ever so slightly

ten sends two little black hearts and a little “that was the most amazing thing i’ve ever seen thank you 😽”

you make sure taemin gets an extra close view of your clit and taeyong is making high-pitched squealing noises in his reaction video stream

mark goes like “yea that’s the spot!”

kai has joined baekhyun with the mouth and saliva action, they’re both licking their lips all over the place and make lewd lusty faces

they’re literally sucking and eyefucking your pussy through the camera bitch they want it so goddamn bad

oh to have their mouths on you right now to come down from your high and chill

you tell everyone how much you miss them and how badly you want them to be here

and how you want to feel all of them all over, on your skin and inside you

the chat is full of yearning and horny crying emojis now

yukhei helps you clean up the rest while you text how it felt with mark and baekhyun because they wanna know more

you talk about how yukhei’s girth is always rubbing that one spot inside and his breathing changes when it does

and you say you really loved their reactions

the members promise to be careful and discrete when they re-watch the stream and ten also says that if you don’t want it to stay in the chat some day you should never hesitate to delete it

you say no problem boys you should know me inside out, just remember to use head-phones when yukhei starts slurping at the 01:27 min mark

taeyong and mark are losing it at your puns

then you have a glass of water taller than yukhei’s dick and basically dance to the bathroom

lucas talks to the boys with his big ole smile in his pyjamas while you’re busy

oh god he is so shy

but very very blissed out. it really takes only two things to make this man happy. big plates, twitchy pussy.

a truly simple man. you like that

kai is definitely evolving from his teasing yukhei agenda in the meantime

he is sending thumbs up emojis instead of raised eyebrow ones

you lay down in xuxi’s big embrace and say goodnight to your boys

yukhei buries his nose in your hair, and kisses you on the forehead so innocently, taeyong melts in his little video square on screen

taemin is a big fan as well

he’s living true to his “explicit shit and romance” life motto isn’t he

you ask if everyone was enjoying themselves

big positive reactions all over the chat

you coo how you adore them all so much and want more of things like this where everyone is involved

eight people are going to bed very happy today

yukhei waves and baekhyun goes offline as well, as does taeyong who’s beaming

end stream

it was a masterpiece

that mark needs to recover from the very most, his entire bed is full of used tissues

and basically

over the next few hours the chat is losing their minds over and over again

everyone can’t stop gushing and telling you what their favorite part was

kai says how turned on you were was making him hard all night

ten enjoyed the wild kissing part and how wet everything was

naughty boy taemin keeps on talking about how — i quote — your insides are the best ever!! while sending flower emojis

your stream has unleashed a gigaton of sexual energy

and that basically goes on and on

until tuesday arrives

oof

today’s the day

you know that ten is up to something

except the little hearts and kiss comment

he hasn’t written much in the chat

oh shit oh shit what is he planning

he truly is a pisces

you know that some epic stuff is about to go down since the cats are with yangyang

and — what

there’s a large canvas in his room with a piece of cloth to cover it

lord have mercy

he’s bringing the big guns

ten will even hold a little speech on how he got inspiration two weeks ago

only to proceed to unveil the art very shyly

it’s an elaborate pencil drawing standing about as tall as him

immaculately sketched in a realistic way

have a guess what he’s been drawing

exactly right it’s an erotic depiction of you

laying on your back, thighs spread, head thrown back

and to make it mysterious you see more of the legs rather than the crotch area

so whatever or who is giving you pleasure is entirely up to you to imagine to your liking

it’s more about how the person he drew feels lust rather than the onlooker. he drew this for your own enjoyment

he did that very cleverly and classily

this canvas will be your utmost treasure and get such an intimate spot in your home

it doesn’t take very long until you’re mounting him and get those hips moving in a circle

ten is just full of surprises

you ask if you can photograph the drawing and upload it to the chat

ten is like ohhh!

but why not, now that he thinks about it. he secretly likes praise and visibility for his drawings so much

the post is definitely a success

lots of exclamation marks and reaction memes for three hours straight

but who would’ve thought otherwise

ten is just massively talented, always on point

and hits the right nerve with his line of work

as your pussy can attest

yukhei is gonna tease in the chat that he heard you in the dorm and that it sounded mega hot wink wink wink

ten writes:

| my tongue hurts

| let’s do it again next week

| i feel inspired to draw more as well

the chat explodes with hype for another two hours

multiple members come up with their own artistic takes on you

on wednesday kai presents a feral dance he choreographed for the whole morning. showing a representation of what you are to him and what he feels for you

very beautiful

on thursday baekhyun gifts you a deliberately humorous doodle titled mochi mama in the style of i dunno, probably picasso on crack

you have not seen anything like it

it’s gonna make you laugh in sad hours for many days to come

talk about come

baekhyun will have his hands busy in and on you all night

he wants to feel mama mochi and please you and make you smile

try not to climax challenge: failed several times

on friday mark blasts a song he wrote about you as soon as you put your hand bag down in the studio

100% of the lyrics are about how sexy and charming and special you are to him and how infatuated he is and how much he thinks about you all the time and how much you knock him off his feet, and how he has the biggest hots for you, jesus christ

that mark lee canada flow wants to make you fucking nut right then and there

the fandom just got his lit mixtape and he’s already working on another one i guess he sure has enough nsfw inspiration for it

all the more reasons to cum hard on his dick tonight

and make sweet love to that sexy body because mark lee isn’t the only one with the hots

then comes saturday

taeyong day

the tension is rising

you’re at his place

the sweet boo comes to put some chirping fledgelings into a towel on your lap as usual

there’s a big crispy lasagna baking in the oven, dripping with cheese and sauce with the most full-bodied herbal mix ever

damn tasty

gordon ramsay would rate this particularly well on twitter

honestly man

we all know gordon ramsey would like taeyong’s dishes

the evening passes as it always does

so he didn’t jump on the bandwagon that’s interesting

it’s almost as if the stream didn’t happen or anything

just as you expected

taeyong doing his own thing and being just very consistent makes him so sexy and desirable to you it’s hard to explain

you just like his style of going about things you know

he’s very receptive to your impulses

you figure it’s up to you to make some steps

so when he opens the fridge to pull out a self-made, perfectly swirly vanilla-chocolate vortex pudding that’s just at the right temperature, you can’t help but hit on him like the world is ending

but as you learned from taeyong’s example: your way

you ask him to open his mouth and maneuver spoon after spoon of pudding into it for him to deliciously savor it

giving him compliments on always making your day along with that

that bowl is empty very fast my loves

and taeyong very happy

oh yeah he was enjoying that

with his eyes closed

oh fuck

the sexual tension could rip the air in half like a mark verse

you decide to sit down on his lap all nonchalant and finish your own pudding... more than suggestively

taeyong is basically holding his breath at this point he’s a puddle

you tell him he can put his hands on your waist if he wants to

no answer needed his fingers are already on their way

you can hear how his heart is approaching a techno music BPM

at this point all you can do anymore is lean in to whisper if he likes to go to the bedroom with you

he can keep the apron on

taeyong tastes deliciously of pudding aye

you roll around in the sheets kissing so heavily

this is pure indulging you just feel how you’re sleeping with a chef

who happens to have the veiniest dick of all time

you’re definitely filled up well

sliding up and down on him deliciously for twenty minutes

really slowly and hugging each other tightly

and saying romantic things

that’s the good life

by the end of the evening the group chat gets a picture of taeyong’s world class lasagna

and a ‘very random’ shaky picture of your hand in his hair

which baekhyun instantly comments as:

“now tyong knows how great you taste as well 🤓😁🤗“

yukhei agrees wholeheartedly and ten starts making baby don’t stop puns

kai is totally in love with the quality food

baekhyun voices his interest in making more pictures of that kind with you. you know, hand in the hair, no big deal

kai says hurry up with it hyung, all the hair dye makes you balder every minute

baekhyun reprises his doodling and now draws a couple

it’s mama mochi with byun baldhyun

“this will be the next selca“

glorious

you’re having a damn good time

but later you feel something is going on

the whole week passes and taeyong seems to be brooding

next saturday he has a hard time expressing himself when he comes to your home

you ask if he’s not comfortable having more sex or if he struggles with the relationship setup

taeyong says it’s not that but can’t explain any further

you go on a whim and ask if it’s a confession he has on his mind

bingo

“taeyong... if you think i’ll judge you for something. remember we’re only doing this since a couple weeks. it’s hard to know how the person really reacts if you don’t know each other inside out“

he is still hesitant

you ask him if it’s something taboo

“yeah...”

you thought so. taeyong is the least basic person you know along with taemin

guess why these two are saved for last my dear readers

you tell him that how he’s in his own lane is what you appreciate him for in the first place, it’s why you’re here with him, you love your duckling chef so much

if he wants a different kind of sex that’s perfectly him

he looks relieved and understood hearing that

and confesses that yeah... he wants to go a little kinkier with you

now you know why taeyong was acting with so much restraint

and put all of his feelings and sensuality into food pretty much

in fact the kinky sex has already started whether you noticed or not

indirectly. as in, the dynamic

truth is he wants to be a service sub

oh yeah lemme introduce you to some new things

service subs like to really cater to their dominants and fulfill their every wish not just in bed, but around the house as well

and there’s even more to it as you will soon discover talking to him about it

an apron is only the start

in case you have been living under a rock

taeyong’s duality is nuts

he’s a completely shy mega pervert

it’s not a secret that this guy wants hardcore bdsm torture sex

you letting all that aggression loose on him for fucking sport

and being cold to him

with a bit of soft domme action as the perfect balance

yep

he wants you to take him out and take care of him at the same time

he’s perfectly aware he’s among the freakier and more deprived members

even ten is just casually freaky and just open for a lot of things. taeyong is deliberate

and pretty deep in the femdom community as far as his browser history is concerned

we all know assertive partners are his thing

but he’s afraid he’ll get you into something that’s a lot of responsibility

you say mister i’m familiar with your interests

my dear you never made them hard to guess

you tell him it’s no problem for you to give it to him raw

you’ll be doing disgusting things to him that sexy face will straight up drown

did you know?

our dear boy taeyong loves it when you spit in his mouth and do virgin roleplay

if he asks you to break him don’t be surprised

he wants to release control completely

he goes by all the rules

and i guarantee. when he comes along your dominatrix mood is gonna skyrocket he just brings that shit out in people

his mere naked body is just... how not to go nuts on him how he wants it

long story short tied up taeyong head to toe ends up immortalized as a vertical photograph

the group chat is overwhelming your notifs with wide-eyed emojis and all caps

amping up the game a little more each day are we

without even trying. hell, this just happened

where this is going is gonna be fun

sunday goes down with you grinding yourself all over taemin but you’re both clothed

you grab the back of his neck to lean in for kisses over and over and over

yes kisses are key

if not the favorite thing he does

let this sink in. if taemin overwhelms a little kitty with a hundred thousand smooches, just how kissy is this guy gonna be

and have fun teasing his erection through his pants

lee taemin a squirmy mess? hell yeah

in classic fashion he will spend the most time of the evening on his knees getting slapped around in several blindfolds, harnesses, and wrist ties

his fantasy finally came true

i repeat what taemin has been dreaming of is reality

thank god for taeyong having you second guess his private tastes. otherwise you would not be on your dom grind now

taemin even goes as far as ordering lingerie for your encounters — to wear himself because he’s taemin

satin and silk blouses he already has in his wardrobe so there’s no shortage

i don’t have to tell you that you can spend hours grinding on his cock in a room full of candles while taemin is in head-to-toe bondage

that’s his idea of a good time and hell you are really treated to perfect eye candy, taemin’s hotness will bring your pleasure to a new level

the group chat will definitely love your photography taken from your sessions

taemin is just an utter no-compromise kinda man to make kinky love with. everything is planned he’s never settling for less than a perfect evening

where both of you really experience the ultimate satisfaction from treating your bodies to the best of clothes and toys and scenarios

give me an amen for taemin being your sunday guy because this legend of a man is your personal church

and his discography is the bible

and cum play is the baptizing my friend

so yeah huh

every day you can look forward to. monday to sunday

and not a day goes by without someone in the chat reminiscing the steamy video you did with lucas

you end up repeating what you wished that day

for everyone to be with you

so you could feel all of them

and you say maybe it’s time to arrange something

you’ve gotten to know each of them personally and intimately by now

and integrated them into your personal life

hell when you wake up the first thing you see is ten’s drawing across your bed

or baekhyun’s funny mama mochi art on your phone background

and you start your day literally selecting from a pile of taeyong’s freshly washed and ironed clothing stacks in your wardrobe

sitting at your breakfast table with a bouquet of flowers that kai and jongin brought you

eating food you bought together with lucas

listening to music that mark made especially for you

they’re all in your life together so it’s the right time to make some heated love together

the chat is all down you don’t even have to ask any further

baekhyun volunteers to go about his leader duty to organize the best possible venue and best possible date

cause with superm things do go 100

he asks what kind of atmosphere you have in mind

you say hard and nasty and kinky

which will definitely make the chat interested

and baekhyun was about to rent a huge modern art penthouse in gangnam

you say no need to go that expensive. you just need a large bed, no paparazzi, and an area where you can be loud. sculptures you could care less about

you have yukhei on your team, so that’s a living sculpture already

it needs a safe haven essentially, with a dark and lusty atmosphere would be so nice

ten steps in saying he has the exact spot you’re looking for

he has a friend who runs a declining night club in the suburbs, with some pretty attractive and grungy backrooms with plenty of space to fuck

yeah a club is exactly what you’re looking for that’s a good idea

it’s closed on monday so baekhyun and ten arrange a rental just then

of course way in the evening

with the guarantee of nobody else around

baekhyun knows how this rigged game rolls he says they need the club to perform a dance practice, overnight stay, and shooting a music video

which is only a half-lie

not “hey we are super m planning an orgy wanna invite dispatch and tell lee soo man”

regardless ten’s friend is pretty chill and indifferent anyways

and baekhyun’s money is doing the talk

you’ll be guaranteed to be left by yourself

monday evening it is.

you already have a whole bunch of fantasies to let loose on your boys

and put it all in the chat

yo it’s called brainstorming and it sure has brain in it

you discuss

and it goes down next week

you encouraged the members to wear what they feel best in, no dress code, no comparison thinking. you want to meet them like you got to know them, each in their favorite expression

taeyong dons a mass onslaught of fetish gear underneath a trench coat, including a fancy collar, lots of hairspray

and latex gloves. shit he’s a freak

baekhyun puts on the coziest clothes he finds and his smol sneakers but they are secretly expensive, his hair is curly and big, he put on a nice scent

kai can’t help but go black suit and lace underneath, you know him

bleach blonde yukhei gets out the tight white tee and smug jeans

creative genius ten goes all out designing his own fashion (!) with paint, he puts on sexy af glasses and goes for his signature ‘cleavage down to the belly’ look underneath a bomber jacket

mark goes for a casual suit but make it swag, with a sleeveless top underneath, yeah those mark arms go crazy

taemin — picks his most dazzling silver outfit that looks like a rendition of mermaid scales, pointed shoes, princely hair, famous i’m so fabulous

and it’s already starting out sexy in the car before you even arrive

because this is all gonna be glorious from the first second to the last

baekhyun and kai will do the driving

you have not one but two classy and sexy chauffeurs you hear me

yeah in their shiny black german cars with those sleek comfortable seats

baekhyun, taeyong, ten and lucas are a team

and then you get kai, mark, and taemin, including your group luggage because such a trip needs a lot of things to pack trust me

you’re with team kai on the way to the club and with team baekhyun the way back

it’s already lit and steamy on your way there

nothing better than getting in the mood held by the greek god arms of none other than lee taemin with mark lee assisting

you’re entirely wrapped up in kissing taemin so passionately, his tongue melts into your mouth like the finest chocolate

thinking about how you were making out last week gets you going even more

as does feeling up his bulge, ugh taemin is so sensual

mark sitting on your other side being eager to attend to your thighs, your waist, your back, your hands, your hair, your stomach

yep

yukhei has been telling him about the wonders of a whole-body massage since you like it so much

mark gets his hands all over you to provide a sexy caress and wow he’s doing it well, giving everything the perfect kind of attention, always asking if you want more of this or more of that

mark loves everything about you and he knows how to make your anticipation become even more intense by dedicating time to all areas generously

you feel like he’s worshipping you head to toe

it’s the way to get turned on

mark has great soft hands and knows your best spots by now

that’s exactly why it was a good idea to sleep with the members individually at first

you could figure it all out in detail and each member could show their style of doing things, and you could teach them

mark has become an expert in skinship

while he’s kissing into your neck whispering revering things to you nobody else would understand

they’re intimate, spicy details from your studio lessons

with a romantic twist even because mark is giving you his entire arsenal, the entire palette

“i’ve been thinking about you so often...”

with jongin driving carefully and taking the lesser frequented roads

kai is really keeping it together

the maknae backseat party is faithfully photographed by mark who sends it to the other team after taemin and you select the best shots, giggling

your favorite is a bird’s view of your cleavage with taemin kissing right between your breasts, slightly below the sternum

his hair is softly splayed over the area

taeyong and ten reply with heart eyes in the chat

on you go kissing and touching

taemin is so gentle with you and easily accepts your wild licks and bites, leans his head back so you have perfect access to his neck

by the time you arrive at the club’s back entrance, he’s marked up and his lips are mighty used

ruined neck, ruined mouth

taemin’s favorite two accessories to walk into a club with

including a hard-on

with mark and kai strutting right after, chewing mints

...both getting hard themselves because mark loves your body and jongin has very good ears when it comes to picking up things that happen in the back of his car

and this bitch got a raging libido, so

the best part is everything is prepared

the other team already parked their car there earlier

ten had the keys to every needed lock, showed everyone around, and then baekhyun went into organization overdrive

this is the first time he didn’t clown around to distract from work since debut

if baekhyun ever means serious business... wow

your best boy taeyong has located the perfect backroom that’s shaded inside and neon-lit from the outside

the window’s aren’t particularly low-sitting so that’s a privacy plus

there’s a huge white extra oversized bed with some more great furniture and a sofa landscape

he desinfected everything to a T

and pulled out every utensil you might need from a large black bag

he walked in like he just commited a bank robbery but in reality there’s cutesy pink rope in the bag

oh well

classic taeyong

yukhei sorted and handed out the condoms plus water bottles for everyone

he’s the expert for the basics don’t come at him he’s doing a great job

after you reminding everyone of the safeword

taemin sits down with you on the bed and you keep kissing

keeping up the flow right there

you beckon your lil’ adorable mochi who’s been dying for skinship

baekhyun is so turned on he wastes no time joining

still fully clothed while the other members are about to undress

you actually like baekhyun huddling up against you in his oversized hoodie it’s cute

so hey, change in plans

everyone ditches the protocol and climbs on the bed only without their shoes

lot of ties and belts to pull them closer to you

you bring all of them together on the bed now

the feeling of having everyone around you is so electrifying, you have to distance from taemin’s seductive lips not to get some kind of adrenaline overdose

jesus this guy is trying to soak your pants like baekhyun forgot to turn off the shower

you get to enjoy five minutes of relaxed massaging from all sides to cool everything down a little

baekhyun and yukhei alternate with kissing you

yum

big plush lips plus a horny tongue

that’s a good combination

kai is definitely setting the pace of how to massage you, and how to move the body while doing so, and what expressions to make

instead of sitting there awkwardly staring into space

remember? master of courting — that’s kim jongin

even baekhyun follows his example a bit

you’re entering cloud 9 from that whole-body massage

you can tell they’re all dancers. there’s rhythm involved

having the seven of them attend to you at the same time just hits different

that are 14 hands

70 fingers

all in sync with kai’s physical ideas, carefully yet purposefully kneading and stroking

kai also helps everyone find a good area and makes sure everyone stays away from any precarious or sexy zones

because you’d probably get off from that in the matter of a blink

to be honest you’re already feeling heated you can’t help it

but that’s a good sign you’re definitely feeling this

and there’s not a single limp dick in this room at this point already

baekhyun being the best people reader all over again manages a seamless transition to some water drinking

so everyone is ready to go

you wish you could do everything at once but decide to get a load of some slow body rolls against you because hell yeah

courting expert kai is sure to oblige, dance god taemin joins right in, and ten completes the holy trinity and hell does he go off

photographer mark on duty again. this moment has to be captured

baekhyun does his mood management magic and encourages ten and taemin to let out their little sounds more

kai he doesn’t have to tell

nor you because you’re already moaning

shit these guys are just too good

these bodies are machines

again bless your xuxi workout sessions

you wouldn’t keep up otherwise

you curse them because your pussy feels creamy way too early

switching to grinding on their bulges is not a better idea because it’s making you even hornier but anyway it’s your favorite activity

yukhei takes time and some effort to get fully hard so that’s a grateful job now

because you can gather yourself

you resort to using your cleavage to stop turning yourself on completely

and then your hands to palm his pants because that’s even more inconspicuous

group sex with superm? hardest early orgasm avoidance challenge EVER

is there some kind of legally accessible viagra for women

there’s no way you could turn yourself off help

you either get the first orgasm out of the way or keep it together to have some suspense in here and see the boys work hard

the decision is clear

time to bring out the toys that taeyong assembled on a table

baekhyun, taemin taeyong and ten are in the down to get tied up in various ways

lucas and kai get blindfolded and get a sexy task from you

slowly humping the mattress just for your viewing pleasure

topless for that matter

no need to ask twice there they go

photographer mark stays free and flexible. it’s always good to have someone outside bondage just in case with such a big group

anyway so you will be busy for sure

the rest of the boys strip down to only their briefs and get a good dose of spanking

ten is definitely moaning the loudest there

taeyong ends up with tied wrists in a prayer position and has his fun getting slapped around by you

until he’s breathless and smiling to himself with his tongue hanging out

someone got his daily meal of smacking

taemin highly approves

nobody’s surprised

baekhyun gets a quick and simple upper body rope harness that’s very easy to grip him by

and just to tease him you add some nipple pinches

result: loud baekhyun noises

cute as hell

so that’s how he’s been training himself to reach all those high notes

interesting

taemin, completely naked, has his hands and ankles tied, looking so beautiful all helpless and his cock itching for stimulation

and because taemin’s strange ‘artistic’ kidnapping fantasies that he never stops talking about cannot be ignored he gets a mouth gag for good measure

you know you just roll with their ideas

he’s a simple man that’s all he needs

you decide to put a bigger bondage piece on ten who ends up in a hogtie aka his new favorite place to be in

if there’s one guy who’s flexible like that it’s him

let’s see for how long he can take it

ten likes a challenge

you tell mark exactly what kind of pictures you want of your tied darlings and he’s well-engaged with that task

baekhyun is clinging to you a lot in the meantime

he gets kisses on the mouth

and your open ear

because you can tell there’s something on his mind

or rather

his ass is telling him something after you activated it with spanks huh

what does baekhyun want?

baekhyun wants the strap

and the strap he shall get

his time has come

this time the safeword won’t do so tapping yukhei’s thigh is the deal

taeyong’s kinky tool collection has a nice and thick equipment to offer, jet black black straps, jet black dildo, like it’s some kind of secret agent gear

it takes a lot of lube to get it into baekhyun’s tight and tiny ass but what’s new

he’s not the gaping expert

and way too busy laughing at the members’ reaction faces so his damn asshole is contracting god dammit

what a brat

next time he gets a toy for prep

only when you grab him by the harness and get into a rhythm, baekhyun throws it back

good boy

kai and xuxi are allowed to take off their blindfolds now because you have a task for them

taeyong’s toy collection features one extra long double-ended dildo, transparent and neither too slim nor too wide

if baekhyun doesn’t have that thing inside his throat i don’t know who

this shit is made for him

and you can tell he’s salivating for that

you tell yukhei to use those big hands to keep baekhyun’s head steady

and oh wonder, his long fingers enclose it perfectly

kai gets to go hard on baekhyun and fulfill his lifetime fantasy that he has had for over a decade now and jerks off to every night:

baekhyun not talking

so while baekhyun’s ass is getting properly stuffed

so is his mouth

kai has no qualms squeezing the toy into baekhyun’s throat a little more roughly

those are some pretty intense choking noises

mark steadily hits the snapshot button

some people go to pound town

baekhyun goes to silicon valley

kai is not afraid to push that thing as far as it can physically go

you’re pleased with how he’s doing it

and with baekhyun’s blowjob abilities anyway

is there a better throat in this industry? probably not

he’s pretty surprised himself with how much he can take it

that poor ass is getting more than it can handle in the meantime, baekhyun is throbbing and whining

little did you know his prostate is so sensitive and makes his dick leak

such a shame you fully exploit that

you tell yukhei to have baekhyun move his head on his own to get into the rhythm

and get taeyong over to suck on the other end of the toy because oh yeah

let me just say these two are amazing

god bless sm entertainment

not for any executive decisions

but for their uncanny ability to attract and assemble all the subs

lee taeyong giving head like the rent is due is a sight you need in your life

like everything, he does it roughly and properly

baekhyun is barely even sucking anymore just straight up gagging and seeing stars

because uh-oh here comes a big fat prostate orgasm

mark is clever enough to hit record on his phone

and capture a shaking baekhyun travelling through a whole bunch of universes, at least in his mind

because that’s how strong his climax is

all he can say is thank you mama mochi and recover from this on his back

kai is satisfied with the result as well because baekhyun managed to not say anything for fifteen minutes

kai never had this much silence in his life

taeyong is still not done sucking the toy off and you let him

never step between a man and his favorite dildo

lucas takes up the task of untying ten who wants to share the other end that’s free now

and mark hands over the camera to kai who films just that

which also means mark is in the mood for you

about time to get some dick

and have taemin watch right next to you

being able to delight in mark’s wonderful technique

doggystyle

which ends up in kai joining

which causes yukhei to join

and baekhyun to film

the three are literally queueing while waiting for their turn

you tell them when to pull out and let the other member have you

until mark is riddled with so much suspension, the fifth thrust on his turn ends up in an unexpected hard climax

“oh my god oh my god!“

obviously kai will let loose now and cum as well, accompanied by really breathy groans

yukhei takes his time to make you moan which gives both taeyong and taemin a good show and an untouched orgasm

eventually you get to hear lucas growling his soul out

and kai bickering to pull out already

because it’s time for buffet

after getting rid of his condom, mark has been untying the very resilient ten who’s been in prawn bondage for like half an hour and five minutes now

respect

he and baekhyun team up to eat you out

yeah prepare for a dream team

while mark and kai chill on the other side of the bed

lucas on the other hand still doesn’t have enough and ends up licking your legs with his cock firmly palmed in those big hands

baekhyun and ten are doing the most meanwhile, lapping you up all sloppy

the job of the cameraman goes to a wild taemin who’s undone his safety hook

he can’t stand this shit anymore he has to join the action instead of lying around in ropes

jeez the guy has the fun of his life playing with filters

silently giggling to himself

until kai finds out that taemin has been putting cat ears on ten and cowboy hats on lucas

kai confiscates the phone from naughty taem and decides to take up that task himself

so taemin can eat you out himself now

alright there are three heads bumping each other between your legs now

and yukhei close-by, currently nibbling at your outer thighs

can you imagine how crowded and crammed that is

you tell mark to get taeyong out of his ties as well

if you’re gonna cum he has to join the party as well

and he will not hesitate my friend

taeyong’s kinky tongue (which can make all kinds of completely unprecedented moves and slurping noises) riles up the other three to put all their effort into this

you order baekhyun and ten to line you left and right of your hips, fingering you from there

and let both taeyong and taemin get you to the point with their tongues at the same time

it’s a busy day innit

the reason is that baekhyun and ten didn’t come but you plan to change that with some dual handjob

baekhyun lets out some pretty hoarse panting noises

(yeah jongin destroyed him with that toy in his mouth for real)

once your hands grip onto their erections, almost automatically baekhyun’s fingers start going crazy on your clit and ten goes mad with his thumb right next to it

yeah he’s kept his rings on this is gonna be a sexy sight

mark and kai retire from their pillows to join at your request

mark kissing you, jongin sucking on your breasts

from this point on things are pretty much just a daze

two tongues two hands? oh shit

four people are trying to make you cum what did you expect

and three other people are licking you all over

yukhei doesn’t even care at this point he’s just straight up kissing your feet

ten is silently groaning it out, he’s pouring his seed into the condom with little twitches in the hip and shoulders

taeyong’s tongue is gonna finish you off, taemin’s lips will make you feel so good, your legs will be a shaking mess in yukhei’s hands

how to even describe this

it’s an explosion of heat and contractions

you’re going fucking crazy from all that head and tongue action god damn

mark definitely has to swallow a lot of your moans all over the place

and taeyong

also swallows

what a god-loving man

your pussy is leaking enough to feed baekhyun as well

who still strokes himself off while he’s cleaning you up with his mouth, oh boy he really developed a lot of stamina

you have your fun telling him to stop jerking himself off

so his orgasm ends up being ruined

those always mess him up

always a nice sight to have him shaking and whining and gasping

you have to roll over at some point before getting overstimulated

phew that takes quite a couple of deliberate breaths

now you have seven hot guys with sopping wet mouths on your hands, looking at you exhausted and infatuated

that’s super m for you

yukhei, man for the basics he is, hands out towels

you really gotta say he’s kept a clear head in all of this except maybe the sudden foot fetish reveal

of course taeyong towels himself down the most he’s basically covered himself with anything he could get his hands on

that face is dripping like his saturday evening lasagnas

you help clean mark who kinda lost his mind and heart while kissing you, he needs your care a little more now

baekhyun soon snaps back into organization mode and has the brilliant idea to unpack xuxi’s and jongin’s luggage

to have everyone wearing their gigantic hoodies and sweaters

it’s warm in the room anyway but this feels so much cozier

after going to the bathroom

a ball of cuddly guys is snuggled up all aroud you faster than you can think

mark and taeyong are already sleeping they really knocked themselves out

champs

kai finds the completely forgotten phone somewhere in the sheets and turns off what seems to be a 50 minutes video

that’s gonna be fun to watch some time

baekhyun nuzzles himself to sleep against your sweater, right between your breasts

“mochi mama thank...” are his last words before he drifts off to pineapple pizza land or whatever dreamscape is in his head

probably something much dirtier but anyway

lucas and kai steal kisses from you and go off to sort out the room

jesus christ they still have the energy

taeyong’s nasty lil’ toy collection gets cleaned and reassembled, the ropes get coiled up, the towels wander into a washing machine in the other room

whose steady bumping lulls the rest of you to sleep

while taemin, epitome of taste he is, plays his best of hits on low volume with his phone

dozing off between seven guys while “heaven” is playing?

best thing ever

the rest is history. you’re surrounded by sleepy cuddly sweater men

you actually sleep for a couple hours

dawntime you wake up cozied and sandwiched between yukhei’s tiddies and jongin’s back

which is the most protected, snug place on earth

even a nuclear superweapon couldn’t explode past that spot

they’re fast asleep

giant baby and teddy bear

safeguarding you in unison

ain’t they adorable

baekhyun is awake silently doing pilates, smiling cutely at you when he sees you’re awake, and he gets a big load of kisses i’m telling you

miraculously everything is tidy and smells fresh, and there’s a light soup in the air...

... lee taeyong got up at 6:30.

he was a whirlwind

the group gets to enjoy a 3-course classic korean breakfast

because taeyong found the club kitchen

what kind of godly entity is this man

how did he do all of this

the club is the cleanest it’s ever been

taking care of 24 people is probably so difficult, this is actually easy to him

you depart in a good mood because damn that soup was restaurant quality and baekhyun had the idea to give you morning head to which everyone joined in

good thing the club has showers

baekhyun is still horny as hell and you want that D(elight) any time of the day

so you fuck for a bunch of minutes in his car after dropping off the team and they giving you playful winks

you park the car behind xiumin’s house because that’s the most calm place to be

people are sleeping on xiumnin so hard, no paparazzi are around, ever

baekhyun settles there with you smiling

he didn’t sing “get you alone” with no reason

baekhyun needs that one-on-one time with you to ground himself and love you all over again big time

plus you are dying to cum bouncing on him on the driver’s seat

while he is desperately gripping the steering wheel to have something solid to hold onto

yeah baekhyun is always ready to lose it for ya

it’s literally such a good spot to fuck

he’s strapped in all underneath you and you can see him squirm and get heart eyes from up close

you also love how your thighs meet the fabric of his pants

baekhyun’s tiny lap is already worth a huge nut you love grinding on him

those shapely thighs

with his cock peaking out from underneath his sweater

what his morning head tongue can do, his dick can do twice with ease so time for round two today

glad you have your bag with some utensils

you’re generous with lube on the condom

in fact you love spilling it over his pants a little

it looks like you’ve been squirting on him that’s why

baekhyun is down for your pervy imaginations

and gets even harder

not bad lil’ guy

time to make him moan with the grip of your walls

mochi breathes pretty hard because damn... more dick destruction

you love burying your hands in his sweater at the shoulders and just fucking ride

his hair gets messy, his bedroom gaze is so intense

his ass still hurts from yesterday but it seems to turn him own judging by the high-pitched groans and his begs for you to bounce on him harder

no problem his dick is just made to be ridden

if this wasn’t a high-tech car from the future with carbon and whatnot anybody could hear baekhyun’s um ‘vocals’ from the outside

this is so much fun oh my god

baekhyun releases with his eyes shut and teeth pressed together, his nose is all scrunched up

jesus this one got to him

he drives you to his home with his fingers shaking a little on the steering wheel

literally tapping like they do in his microphone on stage

yep this shook him up

and insatiable byun is now satisfied byun

nothing better than knowing you ruined your cupcake boyfriend in the best of ways

back at his apartment and after some extra carbo hydrate heavy food, as a pre-nap treat you grind on his thighs and his ass because why not

and gyrate him to sleep with his arms and legs stretched in all directions

both of you are still in disbelief that all of this happened

legend has it you’re dreaming of more group sex ideas that night

the next day taemin sends the champagne video to celebrate your first time together

which brings us back to the start

and that’s how it all happened

now you know

congrats on being a lucky girl

related: super m as subs

FINAL NOTE. ah shit i love this dynamic, thank you for reading 🎊

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norcumii · 3 years

Text

...oh thanks, Tumblr, it wasn’t like I was trying to answer that ask or anything. -_-

OHKAY. Take two! For this trope mashup meme, @dogmatix asked:

Rex/Obi or pairing/characters of choice - Apocalyse AU / Mermaid/Siren AU / Aroused by their voice

This modern!AU got a liiiiiittle bit more absurdist than planned, but NO REGRETS. Assistance was provided by @dharmaavocado and @deadcatwithaflamethrower -- THANK YOU BOTH!

*****

There was a lovely breeze coming in across the ocean, the sky had just enough puffy white clouds to keep things interesting, and Rex was taking a maintenance day. The last family group of tourists to charter a day trip had included several children that were at least two parts sticky and three parts grime. His poor Vigilance needed a serious scrub down, and Rex was not looking forward to restocking. Small Grubby Fiend 1 had stumbled – supposedly due to a sudden swell, but more likely because Small Grubby Fiends 2 and 3 hadn’t stopped ‘not kicking’ each other for way too long. Not being an entire idiot, Rex has gone right for the band-aids with cartoon characters, but since it wasn’t a cartoon Small Grubby Fiend 1 liked, that meant another – until all three Small Grubby Fiends had been plastered with far more of his first aid kit than was good for anyone.

It had been a long day.

So there he was, untangling life-vests that hadn’t even been used, while singing along with whatever music was playing from the boat’s speakers. Rex wasn’t sure if the music was pop, rock, or some other unholy category he’d never heard of, but thankfully it didn’t matter. He liked it, and could figure out which of Tup’s mix tapes it was on, which was the important thing.

Tup always made hilarious offended noises when Rex called them mix tapes, which was a significant reason why he did so. They were music folders, sensibly labeled by mood, because his little brother had realized at some point that was the only way to keep Rex up to date on anything past the 90’s grunge music.

Tup’s accusation, not his. Rex damn well knew how to use a radio – several kinds of radio, thank you very much.

He was several songs into mind-numbing chores when he spotted a flash of red streaking under the dock, and Rex ducked his head to hide a grin. He’d started spotting movement like that a couple of weeks ago, around the time the neighbors descended on their beach house. There were several ginger teenagers, so he figured one of them was a hell of a water rat who had damn odd taste in music.

To be fair, so did he.

It’d been weird at first, realizing he had an audience that disappeared the moment he acknowledged their existence. But the most he heard or saw out of them beyond the momentary glimpse was a bit of percussion, someone drumming in time against the water – and once, the dock itself – so Rex had shrugged and accepted their presence. It was kinda nice, actually, just to have someone around. He lived a ways off the end of a long, sparsely populated road, and while he didn’t mind the solitude, sometimes you just wanted another–

Rex’s train of thought went off the rails with a loud yelp as he discovered something slimy stuck to the back of a life-vest. It might have been edible once – it was a shade of radioactive green he didn’t associate with anything other than candy or video games, at least, so that was his best guess. Much as he wanted to blame the Small Grubby Fiends, he hadn’t done more than a spot check of these vests for awhile – could’ve been anyone.

Ugh. At least unlike some clients he could name, Rex’s eavesdropper wasn’t vandalizing anything. Wasn’t about to begrudge that.

Rex had managed to get most of the neon green grossness cleared when the rumble of an approaching car caught his attention. He wasn’t expecting visitors, not that that had ever stopped any of his brothers. Lost delivery drivers usually turned around before hitting up the driveway, which was long enough and had enough private property signs to keep out idiots looking for easy water access.

“Who the hell is this?” he muttered, setting the vest aside. He didn’t recognize the little black car, or the burly guy stepping out of the passenger’s side, but the guy waved and casually started towards Rex as if he knew who the hell he was.

Not reassuring, especially since the stranger rapped the car’s roof, and it headed back up the driveway.

“You seem lost,” Rex said, standing up and trying to look just the right level of intimidating.

“Nope,” the guy said back, still heading towards him. “Need your boat.”

“That’s work related – you need to wait till I’m back at the marina tomorrow. I’m at home, it’s my day off.”

Burly guy finally stopped, planting his hands on his hips – a move which just happened to part the jacket of his cheap suit enough that Rex could see the gun he carried. “I don’t think you understand, Mr. Fett. I don't want any trouble – I just want you to head inside, and take that day off while I borrow your boat.”

Oh, FUCK. Nobody really talked about how the mob owned most of the marinas in Tatooine Bay, but you didn’t need to declare water was wet to get drenched in the rain. It just wasn’t something that ever happened to someone you knew, just friends of friends or something.

“And if I don’t agree?” he couldn’t keep from asking.

Burly Guy had a surprisingly expressive shrug. “Most people don’t enjoy pushing their luck that far.”

To his credit, it was a remarkably polite threat. “I’m surprised anyone ever does.”

“Eh, every now and then there’s some freaky masochist looking for cheap thrills, but it ain’t my kink. Don’t think it’s yours, either, so if you’d just head inside, that’d be appreciated.”

The smart move was probably to comply. Rex wasn’t inclined to cooperate anyways. He was saved from making either bad decision by...sound.

It didn’t register as singing – there was something too off about it, a combination that wasn’t quite autotune, or that polyphonic singing Echo had gotten into when Fives got obsessed with the guitar. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t right in a way that was madly distracting.

The...singing? – pulled both Rex and the goon around towards the end of the dock, and if Rex hadn’t been so muzzy-headed from that sound he would have been gaping much more blatantly.

There was someone slipping out from under the dock, and it was most definitely not one of the neighbors.

It was a trim, shirtless figure in the water – ginger indeed, short red hair just dry enough to be messy spikes. Pale skin was freckled in scales of shimmering reds, protective lines over what would be vulnerable areas on a human. It swam close enough to the surface that Rex could see the sleek fins and tail, and part of his brain kept screaming ‘mermaid!’ while the rest took in the long, sharp claws on webbed hands and whispered ‘predator.’ Its singing showed sharply pointed teeth, and it should not have been nearly that gorgeous.

The mermaid glanced over at him, eyes a deep blue-on-blue that could never masquerade as human, flicking a look up and down him that could have been flattering or terrifying – it all depended on if that was measuring him for a meal euphemistically or not.

The singing changed as the creature turned its attention back to the goon, and the magnetic pull on Rex lessened. He staggered back a step, not too surprised to find he was halfway down the dock without noticing. The hazy feeling in his brain stopped, or at least dropped down to levels that were close enough to normal, so he got a clear view as the goon started walking into the water, oblivious to everything except the mer-siren-thing he was shambling towards.

The siren moved when the goon was almost waist deep in the water, flowing forward to delicately place a hand at the goon’s throat. The singing continued, but now there was a new undertone, soft and somehow questioning. Rex couldn’t tell if there were words to it or not – maybe a whole other language for all he knew – but the goon responded, voice soft enough that he couldn’t make out what was said.

Whatever he said, it didn’t please the siren. It kept singing, but it snarled, showing more of those pointed teeth, then it twisted and dove, hauling the unresisting goon under the water.

A terrifying few moments more, and the last hums of the song seemed to stop vibrating through the water.

“What the absolute fuck?” Rex said numbly. Thank everything, no one answered.

A smart man would’ve hidden inside, or driven off to a movie theater or something – inland and away. Rex wasn’t sure why he stayed: curiosity – morbid or otherwise – shock, or a healthy disbelief in the whole debacle. He was maybe a bit too numb to not have some kind of shock, but –

He felt like he maybe deserved it. “Yeah, I can have a bit of shock,” Rex muttered to himself. “As a treat.”

Okay, he might have more than a bit. But by the time the siren poked his head out of the water again – politely out of arms’ reach – Rex had calmed down a decent degree. They just looked at each other for a bit, then the siren gave him a polite nod.

“Hello there,” he said in a pleasant, deep voice with a hell of an accent.

Rex held up a hand, needing a moment. Of fucking course the British even colonized under the goddamned sea. “Hi. You speak English.” It wasn’t quite the most inane thing he could’ve said, but his brain hadn’t managed to catch up yet.

He was talking to a goddamned mermaid who had just kidnapped and possibly eaten some mob thug who’d been trying to take Rex’s boat. It had been a day.

“You’re not the first land-dweller I’ve made the acquaintance of.”

Rex absolutely refused to make any kind of a crack about being charmed. There was too much hysteria lurking in there. “Speaking of acquaintances, you didn’t, ah, kill that guy, did you?”

The siren’s lips pulled back from his teeth a little. “I still haven’t decided what to do with him, so right now he’s out of the way.” He must’ve seen something impressive in Rex’s expression, because the angry disdain smoothed over to something more neutral. “He’s stashed in a cave I know. Enough air to breathe, but the only entrance is underwater and too far for most humans to swim without assistance.”

That was...a lot. “Thanks for the help.”

The siren smiled, an oddly sweet, bashful expression. “I’d be a very poor guest if I didn’t assist.” He cleared his throat, his expression going awkward. “Though I...suppose ‘guest’ is a bit presumptive.”

Rex grinned. “No, I spotted you a couple weeks ago – ah, I mean, sort of.” Before he could make more a hash of that, he cleared his throat. “The name’s Rex.”

The siren folded his hands together and did a little bow thing. “Obi-Wan. Pleasure to meet you.”

He wasn’t blushing. He absolutely was not blushing. “So...you in town for long?” Ok, now he was blushing, that was worst subject change ever meeting worst fishing attempt – meeting worst and wildly inappropriate pun.

Obi-Wan’s expression fell, sorrow way too visible in those non-human eyes. “I suppose you could say that. I...no longer have a home to return to.”

Definitely not a topic to change to. Right. Rex cleared his throat and shifted. “Well. You’re welcome anytime, for what that’s worth.”

The slow-growing smile didn’t remove that sorrow, but it did kindle something warm inside. This was at least three different kinds of trouble, but Rex didn’t think he’d regret any of it.

~end

#star wars #My writing #meme #trope mashup #Rex/Obi #mermaid #dogmatix #still not thrilled with how it wraps but it's certainly not the worst fic ending I've read recently #oh I'm still salty #whoops?#meanwhile there's several lines in here i adore more than is reasonable #AND I DON'T CARE

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river-bottom-nightmare · 4 years

Text

Conner Kent Week 2021, Day One: No Capes, Still Alien

“It’s a UFO.”

“It’s not a UFO.”

“It definitely is,” Bart said in a matter-of-fact tone, talking over Tim. “My brother said he once modified a radio transmitter into picking up alien transmissions and convinced an alien ship to come to Earth. And he said the landing looked just like this.”

“Your brother is insane,” Cassie, who’d previously been quiet throughout this mock-argument, spoke up. “Didn’t he blow up the cafeteria when he was in high school as revenge for budget cuts leading to smaller lunch servings?”

Bart stopped his tromping through the wilderness abruptly, and peered at Cassie with a suspicious eye. “How did you know about that?”

“You told us that story on the first week of camp,” Tim said dryly. “And anyway, this wreckage is way too small for it to be a UFO.”

“But it’s too big for it to be a person,” Bart immediately countered. “Or a person-sized being. So maybe these aliens are tiny, so they have tiny little spaceships, too.”

“Why are you two so convinced it’s aliens in the first place?” Cassie lifted a hefty tree branch, bracing it on her shoulder as the two boys scrambled underneath quickly. Then, after ducking under it herself, she let it fall to the ground gently. “I mean for all we know, it could be a drone test or rocket launch or something.”

“Hey, Cassie. Cass. Cassandra.”

“Yeah, Tim?”

“Have you seen any sci-fi movie at all?”

“I don’t like where this is going, but yes.”

Bart interrupted Tim, “It’s never a drone, or a test flight, or whatever the government or business says. That’s always a coverup. It’s usually something much more interesting, and in this case, it’s likely to be an alien.”

“Exactly,” Tim said.

Hefting the sizeable backpack higher onto her shoulders, Cassie sighed. “I feel like I should have stayed with the rest of the camp.”

“No you don’t,” Tim dismissed.

“We’re much more interesting,” Bart said, hopping in front of Tim. “You wouldn’t want to go on this adventure with anyone but us.”

“I’ve known you two for like a week,” Cassie pointed out. “We met at the beginning of this summer camp. Which you two immediately convinced me to ditch.”

“Me and Bart were planning to ditch the camp for weeks,” Tim said as Bart ran ahead. “Ever since we figured out we were going. Besides,” he shot her a cheeky grin, “Is there anyone else you’d rather go off into the woods with?”

Cassie pouted, but there was a mischievous glint in her eye that betrayed just how much fun she was having. She was reasonably certain that this borderline-illegal outcome of a summer camp she didn’t even want to attend in the first place was going to end with her being unquestionably attached to these two insane boys that had dragged her halfway through the forest on a whim. Tim’s train of thought was stopping at the same station Cassie’s was, but Bart’s had long since barged forward and accepted Cassie into his and Tim’s longstanding friendship.

“I think we’re coming up on something!” Bart called from up ahead, then doubled back to meet up with Tim and Cassie. He tugged the strap of Cassie’s backpack in a gesture to stop, the grabbed the water bottle from the side pocket and took a long sip. Wiping his mouth, he said, “There’s a clearing. But not an actual clearing. More like when water falls on a bath bomb and everything fizzles inward and out and disintegrates.”

Cassie squinted at him. “What?”

“He means the clearing didn’t used to be there,” Tim supplied helpfully. “The thing that crashed through the trees and made this wreckage stopped up ahead, and it’s, I don’t know, presence or whatever made all the trees crumble and created a clearing.”

“Like a bath bomb!”

Tim nodded at Bart. “Exactly like a bath bomb.”

Cassie stared at the two of them, then shrugged, taking it in stride. “Alright. Like a bath bomb. How far up ahead?”

“We’ve got four more giant fallen logs to climb over,” Bart informed her. “So come on, we’re almost there.”

“My entire system of speech and thought is going to be messed up beyond recognition by the time this trip is over,” Cassie sighed.

Tim shot her another one of his smirks. “That’s the plan.”

The three of them did, in fact, climb over four logs. Well, Tim and Bart climbed over the logs, while Cassie used her height to jump smoothly over them. Regardless, the they arrived at the edge of the clearing soon enough, halting their steady march for a second to take in the amount of destruction scattered about.

They could see the splintered remains of forest giants that had probably swooped towards the sky for decades, dirt and mud shoveled up and thrown around everything. And there, at the center of it all, was a boy. At least, he looked like a boy. Clad in a bodysuit of some strange, silvery material, he was sprawled out on the ground, seemingly unconscious.

“I told you it wasn’t a UFO!” Tim exclaimed, elbowing Bart. The other boy grumbled and let his hands droop down in acquiescence.

After a solid minute of staring, Bart pushed Cassie forward. “Go poke him or something to make sure he’s still alive.”

“Me?” Cassie hissed. “Why do I have to do it?”

“Because you’re the biggest, so you can protect us if he turns out to be an evil alien who wants to invade the planet.”

“Tim took jujutsu lessons!” Cassie countered.

“Technically they weren’t lessons,” Tim said. “They were more random things my older brother decided to teach me whenever he visited home every other weekend.”

Right when Cassie opened her mouth to argue, the boy on the ground groaned, stirring. The three of them froze, staring at him as he slowly sat up, a hand on his head like he was in pain. He looked around dazedly, as if trying to get his bearings, but let out a little shriek when he noticed Bart, Tim, and Cassie watching him.

For a couple solid moments, nobody dared to move, a deer-in-headlights on all four of their faces. Just when Tim was about to step forward and brave a question, the boy opened his mouth and beat him to it.

“Does my translator chip work?”

More staring, until the question filtered into Bart’s brain first and he responded, “What’s a translator chip?”

The boy’s expression brightened. “So it does work! Awesome! Uh...” Suddenly, his expression turned fearful. “Don’t hurt me! Please! I don’t want to hurt anyone either, and I really don’t want to fight.”

A moment of silence, then Cassie leaned towards Bart and said, “Is he speaking Spanish?”

“Yeah,” Bart said back.

“You know Spanish?”

“One of my friends taught me a little bit when I was a kid, and I kept learning.”

“The alien speaks Spanish,” Cassie laughed a little hysterically. “Reality just doesn’t work right around you two, does it?”

“What’s Spanish?” the boy said.

Both Tim and Cassie turned to Bart, so as designated translator, Bart stepped forward and said in a terribly American accent, “It’s, yknow, the language you’re speaking right now.”

The boy, apparently in Spanish, frowned. “The translator chip’s supposed to turn whatever I say into Earthish.”

Feeling a little like an idiot, Bart said, “We don’t...speak Earthish?”

The boy looked suitably concerned, then suddenly regretful. “Oh no. Am I not on Earth?”

“No no,” Bart said quickly. “You’re on Earth.”

Now the boy just looked confused. “Wait. What’s your planet’s official language?”

“Official language?” Bart asked. “We’re supposed to have one of those?”

At the expression that clearly conveyed the boy was out of his depth, Cassie nudged Bart and whispered, “Ask him something in English.”

“What?”

“Can you understand me?” Tim stepped forward and asked, in English.

“Whoa. Yes,” the boy said, and Cassie breathed a sigh of relief at being able to understand the boy.

However, now that the four of them were successfully able to communicate, neither of them knew exactly what to say. Eventually, Cassie broke the tension with an incredulous, “So you’re really from another planet?”

“Yes,” the boy sighed. “Hopefully you can take me to your embassy? Wait actually,” his eyes widened and he shook his head. “Don’t do that.”

“Are you on the run or something?” Tim asked.

“I...not exactly,” the boy sighed. Shuffling his feet on the ground, he asked quietly, “Do you guys have clones?”

“You’re a clone?” Bart gasped. The boy nodded miserably, but just as he began to respond, Bart steamrolled over him. “That’s so cool!”

“It’s...cool?”

Displaying a bit of tact, Tim asked, “Is it...not supposed to be cool?”

The boy shook his head. “I was supposed to be an experiment,” he said shyly. “Experiments aren’t supposed to think for themselves, but I could. So I ran away. I didn’t mean to crash land on your planet.”

“You were experimented on?” Cassie said, shocked, though Bart and Tim could hear the protectiveness in her tone. Her voice then turned steely. “You’re not planning on attacking us or killing the human race, right?”

“What? No!”

“Good. You’re coming with us.” Cassie turned to look at the two boys. “He’s coming with us, right?”

“Definitely,” Tim said, and Bart shook his head. “We could cross the forest and make it towards the gas station that’s a couple miles away. I’ve got Bruce’s credit card, so we can probably bribe someone into helping us get to an airport or something. From there, he can hide out at one of our places.”

“You’re okay with me coming with you?” the boy asked.

“Well, we already made one new friend on this trip,” Bart shrugged. “What’s one more, even if he’s an alien who crash landed from space and speaks Spanish.”

“I’m speaking Northern Kryptonian,” the boy informed them helpfully.

“Cool!” Bart said, without even hesitating. “By the way, I’m Bart. That’s Tim, and that’s Cassie. What’s your name?”

“Do you even have a name?” Tim asked. “Or identification, or something?”

“My serial number was-” the boy started making a series of clips and chirps. Apparently, alien serial numbers didn’t translate into English well.

“Yeah, we didn’t catch any of that,” Bart said.

The boy seemed to think for a second, then straightened, with a resolved smirk on his face, self-deprecating yet fierce. “Call me Kon.”

“Kon?”

Kon smiled. “Alien inside joke. It’s nice to meet you.”

----------

can you tell i had no idea how to end this? bc i had no idea how to end this. anyway, i am not going to miss a single day on kon week, i’m not. special thanks to jpeg for providing his very loving support and encouragement.

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @screennamealreadyused @subtleappreciation @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bikoncon @bonkybearjpeg @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump

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drabbles-mc · 4 years

Text

Call Me Back

Bishop Losa x Reader

Request by my #1 Presidente fan @masterlistforimagines : Hiii, can I request “don’t you dare walk away” “call me now, it’s urgent” and “why do I even bother” with el Presidente (aka the only person I request for). I’m thinking maybe they were in an argument and he left mid argument to handle club shit. Maybe something important happens and that’s why there’s the whole call me back part. Like angst to fluff?

Warnings: language

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: The prompts are from This Post in case anyone was curious! Also, I wanted to make it angsty but not tooooo too angsty because then my heart would be too sad haha. Hope you enjoy it!

Bish Tag: @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf

Gif Credit: @sonsofeorl

You and Bishop were standing on opposite ends of your dining room table. You were leaning against the back of the chair on the very end, trying to keep your tears from falling. You hated that you were an angry crier. Bishop was standing at the opposite end, staring intently down at the surface of the table. He hated seeing you so upset, and when you’d start to cry that’s when his heart would really start to break.

“I didn’t think it was worth bothering you with,” his tone was level, which sometimes made it more infuriating to argue with him, “It wasn’t that big of a—”

“It was a big deal to me!” you snapped, a tear escaping and trickling down your cheek, “It fucking matters to me! I don’t understand why that isn’t enough of a reason to keep me in the loop. All it takes is one goddamn phone call, Obispo. I’m not asking for a hell of a lot.”

“And I’m telling you, that if I want to keep you safe I can’t always just,” his phone vibrated in his pocket and he paused to see who was calling. With a sigh he hit the reject button and went back to is discussion with you, “I can’t always afford to do that. We’ve had this conversation before, I don’t know why we have to keep having it.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you wipe the tears off of your cheeks, “So if I just decided to fuck off for a couple days and not communicate with you at all, you’re saying that you’d be okay with that? That wouldn’t set off any alarm bells for you?”

He shook his head, “It’s not the same, Y/N. You aren’t tied up with a goddamn cartel!”

“That’s all the more reason you should take the five seconds to send me a text so I know you’re at least alive and not dead in a fucking ditch somewhere.”

“What exactly do you want me to send you then, huh? Drop you a casual text saying that the drug run was successful and that we—” his phone went off again in his pocket and he huffed as he answered it, “What?!”

You shook your head and collapsed in the chair that you had been leaning against. Of course he would answer his phone in the middle of an argument. God forbid he get through one conversation with you without having to reprioritize.

“Fuck me,” he sighed, “Alright, I’m on my way. Stay put and don’t do anything stupid.”

You jaw dropped, “You’re kidding right? You’re not leaving right now.”

“It’s shit with the—”

“Shit with the club, yea, I know,” you shook your head, “You can’t just leave in the middle of this, Obispo. You can’t keep dodging this conversation.”

“I’m not dodging it,” he took his kutte off the chair and slid it on, “but the club needs me right now.”

“I need you right now!” you slammed your hand on the table.

He took a deep breath, “I’ll be back soon.”

“Don’t you dare walk away,” your voice was quieter now, “For the love of god, Obispo.”

“We’ll finish this conversation later,” he stormed off and out the door. No goodbye, no I love you, nothing. That hurt more than him yelling.

You buried your face in your hands as the tears began to flow. It was half anger, half sadness fueling them now. You were constantly left feeling like you were being unrealistic with asking certain things of him, and also knowing that what you were asking for was the bare minimum. You cared about him too much to be alright with not knowing if he was safe. No matter how many times you tried to explain that to him, though, he never seemed to get it. Or maybe he did and just actively went out of his way not to get into it because he couldn’t offer you any comfort about it. If that was the case though, you reasoned, that was another discussion he should be having with you.

But you never got to discuss anything. Because there was always something going on with the club that would cut into it.

You wiped the tears off of your face and grabbed your purse and keys from the table. If he could leave, then so could you. You couldn’t keep sitting in the house feeling sad and lonely. You were done with that. If Bishop really wanted to talk to you, he could come and find you.

The radio was blasting and the roads were empty. You had no idea how long you had been driving for. You were all cried out though. You took a deep breath as you blindly dug around in your purse for your cigarettes and lighter. You were able to take one out of the pack and put it to your lips without taking your eyes off the road. Your fingers fumbled with the lighter for a moment before you glanced down just long enough to make sure you were going to safely light it.

You looked back up to the road and screamed, swerving your car to avoid hitting the coyote that was standing in the middle of the road. It scampered out of the way, getting out of the altercation unharmed, but you couldn’t stop yourself from swearing repeatedly as you realized that your car had dragged along the cement median, still there from the never-ending construction. You didn’t want to get out and look at the damage, but you knew that you had to.

You put your hazards on as you safely found a place to pull off the road. You grabbed your phone, turning the flashlight on so you could see what you were dealing with. Tears stung at your eyes again as you took in the damage. A good chunk of it was cosmetic, just scrapes and dents down the passenger side of the vehicle. But you had also busted your passenger-side headlight, and also ended up ripping off the side-view mirror as well. The car was drivable, but if you passed any cops there was no way they weren’t going to give you some kind of ticket.

Your original plan had been to make Bishop come and look for you, but that all went out the window. With a heavy sigh you called him. The line rang, and rang, and rang. No answer. He always had time to pick up for the club, but suddenly now his phone was out of reach. You rolled your eyes, trying not to let yet another wave of tears come cascading down your cheeks.

Your thumbs flew across your phone’s keyboard, “Call me now. It’s urgent” you hoped that maybe he just couldn’t answer a phone call, but maybe he’d have the time to spare a quick look at a text message. You weren’t one to bother him with “emergencies” that weren’t really emergencies. If you said you needed help, you meant it.

You gave it ten minutes before you sent a follow up message, “Forget it. Why do I even bother?”

You scrolled through your contacts until you landed on Chucky’s number. This wasn’t his problem, but you knew that he’d show up in a heartbeat to help you. You dialed and he picked up on the second ring.

“Y/N?”

“Hey, Chucky. I’m, I’m so sorry to bother you. I know it’s late and you’re probably dealing with your own shit right now, but I’m in a bit of a spot.”

“You know I would do anything for the First Lady of the club,” he sounded so earnest.

It made you smile and shake your head even if he couldn’t see you, “You’re sweet, Chucky. Are you still at the yard?”

“I’m just getting ready to leave. You called me at the perfectly fated moment.”

You chuckled despite the fact that you wanted to cry, “Something like that. I, uh, I banged up my car. I was wondering if you could meet me with the tow truck? I’ll owe you one for sure.”

“All you’ll ever owe me is company and good conversation.”

You laughed as you gave him the mile marker that you were closest to. The whole evening had been a shitshow but it was impossible to not feel a little lighter after talking to Chucky. You just hoped that it wouldn’t take him too long to get to you.

He got to you in about forty-five minutes, which was good time considering you had been driving for a while before all of this happened. He didn’t say a word as the two of you hooked your car up to the tow truck. That was one of the things you loved about Chucky—he didn’t ask a million questions. You hopped in so you were riding shotgun and you both began the ride back to the yard.

As promised, you kept a conversation going with him the entire time, and it almost made you forget about the chaos that had landed you in that truck with him. There was so much to Chucky that you wanted to know about. He was like the most interesting puzzle you’d ever encountered. He was always so kind to you, and you knew he did everything he could to help take care of the club. There weren’t many people who were as selfless and loyal as he was. You were glad to know him.

He drove through the gate to the yard and clubhouse. You let out a deep sigh when you saw Bishop sitting on the steps to the clubhouse. There was a cigarette in his hand and he was staring down at the ground, looking up only when he heard the truck roll onto the lot. He flicked away the last of his cigarette as he jogged over to meet the truck when Chucky put it in park.

“I figured that you would be able to get it off the truck and onto the lift tomorrow?” Chucky offered up as he stepped out of the truck, “Or one of the club?”

Bishop nodded, wanting to dismiss him quickly without being rude, “Yea we got it. Thank you, Chucky.”

“Glad to be of service,” he nodded to Bishop, “Have a good night, Presidente,” he turned back to you, “Despite the circumstances, I appreciate the company.”

You smiled at him, “You’re a good man, Chucky. Thank you.”

He smiled as he walked away, “I accept that.”

It was just you and Bishop on the lot. Everything was dark except for the street lights that shined into the compound. There was a considerable gap between the two of you. You were nervously fussing with your hair, not wanting to try and get into all of this shit with Bishop now. All you wanted to do was go home and go to sleep. The adrenaline was wearing off and all of the crying that you had been doing was exhausting.

“I’m sorry about the car,” you finally broke the silence, “There was a coyote in the middle of the road and I didn’t want to hit it and I just—”

It seemed like it only took him all of two steps to close the gap between the two of you as he came and wrapped you in a hug. He squeezed you tighter than he had in a long time, with one arm wrapped around your waist and the other looped so that he was keeping your head pressed against his chest. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes tight, like he was trying to revel in how you felt in his arms.

“I don’t give a fuck about the car,” he mumbled into your hair as he peppered the top of your head with kisses,” he pulled back so he could look you over, “Are you alright?”

You nodded, “Yea. It really wasn’t that bad. It’s a lot of cosmetic damage. I’ll need a new headlight and mirror though,” you sighed, shaking your head, “Dumb fucking coyote.”

There was the smallest hint of a smile on his face, “I told you that no stray animal like that is worth wrecking the car over.”

“I didn’t wreck it. She’s just got…you know…some battle scars now.”

He shook his head as he pulled you into another hug. He tilted your chin up for a moment so that he could kiss your lips. You closed your eyes and let yourself melt into it for a moment, savoring the taste of him before he rested your head back against his chest again. His arms tightened around you again, “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

You were smiling against his chest but you couldn’t help the words that came out of your mouth, “You woulda known sooner if you answered your fucking phone when I called.”

You felt his chest rise and fall as he sighed, “Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“Did Chucky tell you he was coming to get me?”

Bishop nodded a smile quickly passing over his face as he said, “Barged in on Templo,” he gave you a pointed look, “Which is why I wasn’t answering my phone, by the way. And I would’ve gone with him but I didn’t know if you were still pissed off at me.”

“I’m not done being mad at you yet, Obispo,” you sighed against him, “But I would like to hit pause on this argument for now. I’m tired and I just want to go home with you.”

He scooped you up so your legs were wrapped around his waist as he held you, “I would really love it if you were done being mad at me, Amor,” he pressed his forehead against yours.

You rolled your eyes as he nuzzled his nose against yours, trying to be sweet enough to drop your anger, “Are you really trying to schmooze your way out of this argument?”

He walked, carrying you over to his bike. He set you down on your seat and gently cupped your face in his hand, “What if I’m trying to schmooze and I promise you that going forward I’ll work on being better at communicating with you?”

You smiled, leaning into the warmth emanating from his hand, “Alright, fine, I’ll allow it,” you kissed his palm, “But you’re on thin ice, Obispo.”

There was a small smirk on his face, “I always am,” he handed you his helmet, “So do I get to ask why your next call was Chucky? Why not one of the guys?”

You laughed, “Why? You jealous of Chucky?”

He smiled, shaking his head, “He is quite the charmer.”

You chuckled as you clipped the strap to his helmet, “He refers to me as the First Lady and it does wonders for my confidence.”

“Don’t let it go to your head too much, Y/N,” he tapped the top of his helmet, “Or this won’t even fit you anymore.”

“If it still fits you, I know I’ll be fine,” you smirked before letting out a laugh.

He shook his head at you before leaning in and giving you a kiss, “Always gotta have something smart to say, don’t you?”

“That’s why you love me.”

He got onto his bike, and you were still able to hear his laughter even though you were sitting behind him, “One of the many reasons, Amor.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #bishop losa #bishop x reader #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa x you #obispo losa #obispo losa x reader #obispo losa imagine #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa fanfiction #fanfiction #my writing #drabblesmc #five word prompt

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peakyswritings · 4 years

Text

Something pure

Requested by: anonymous.

A/N: okay this took AGES, I’m so sorry for the wait. It also turned out longer than expected, I wanted to give a little background to the request and things got out of hand lmao. I hope you like it⭐️

Summary: Luca had never felt something so pure before, he would do anything to preserve it. Even if it means hiding his feelings from the woman he loves. Little does he know, it’s not enough to keep harm out of your way.

Warnings: mentions of violence, description of signs of physical harm, semi-nudity (no smut)

The gif is not mine, credits to the owner.

You wished you could say you knew what you were getting into when you met Luca Changretta. That you were prepared for what was coming, that you were fully aware of the risks that you were taking by being involved with a mafia man. But you couldn’t.

You were just a small-town girl who moved to New York to seek her fortune, fascinated by the myth of the life in the city, a life that until a couple of months prior you had only dreamed. You had never found yourself close to the underworld, never been in trouble; you lived a quiet life in your family home, spending your days helping your mother or reading some books under the shade of the old tree in your garden, right in front of the swing that your father had hung on the branches when you were a child. Even though you were grateful for the way your parents had raised you, you were looking for something more. You didn’t want to spend your whole life in the dull countryside, so you packed your things and moved to New York, with a suitcase in one hand and your dreams in the other.

You had started working for an Italian tailor who made suits in a basement in Mott Street, Fenacci. You had a bit of experience, you were good at what you did, it wasn’t hard for you to obtain the job.

The first time you met Luca, you didn’t know what he did for a living, what he was capable of.

You were drowning in your work, when you heard the bell on the door ring as a tall man that you had never seen before entered the shop like he owned the place. Your co-worker slightly nudged you to get your attention, leaning towards you with a cautious look on her face.

“Whatever he wants, it’s on the house” she whispered, sitting straight again to get back to work. You nodded, still confused by her strange behaviour. Taking a look around, you noticed that the room had fallen so silent that you could hear a pin drop, everyone was focusing on their work and no one dared to look at the man.

You didn’t understand why no one talked to him or asked him what he needed, nor why he just walked around the shop without asking for the help of the shop assistants. Being a naturally shy girl, it was hard for you to talk to people, so you had to gather up the courage before addressing to him. “Can I help you, sir?”

After your question, almost everyone stopped what they were doing, looking at you like you were gone crazy. You nervously fidgeted with your pencil, wondering what you did wrong.

The man, that was previously looking at some suits with his back to you, slowly turned around, clearly taken aback by the fact that someone had the nerve to talk to him. When his green eyes landed on you, you could see a hint of amusement in them.

“Are you new?” he asked with a thick accent, taking some steps towards your table. You nodded, already feeling your face becoming red with embarrassment.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/n y/l/n”

He stopped in front of you, holding back a smile at the sight of your red cheeks. It didn’t take him long to understand that you had no idea of who he was. Your awkwardness was due to your shyness, not fear. You didn’t lower your head when he walked into the shop and you weren’t afraid of talking to him.

“Thank you for your politeness, miss Y/l/n, but I’m just here to see my uncle”

You stayed silent for a while, looking closely at him. An aura of power and authority surrounded him, he looked strong and self-confident. At the same time, he also seemed polite and good-mannered and you wondered why his presence caused everyone to be so on edge. Before you could say another word, a man appeared from the door behind you, interrupting your brief conversation.

“Your uncle is waiting for you in his office, mr Changretta”

In response, he dismissed him with a gesture, turning to look at you again.

“It was nice meeting you, miss Y/l/n” he said, tipping his hat and walking towards the door that led to Fenacci’s office.

When he closed the door behind him, everyone seemed to relax a bit.

“Is he Fenacci’s nephew?” you asked your co-worker, unable to hold back your curiosity.

“Yes, on his mother’s side” she confirmed, not raising her head from what she was working on.

“So that’s why his suits are on the house”

She giggled at your naive question, shaking her head.

“Oh, sweetheart, everything’s on the house for him”

******

At the end of your shift, you gathered your things and walked out the shop eager to go home, take a hot bath and relax for the rest of the night, worn out from working all day.

You still had to get used to the chaotic streets of New York, they were nothing like the peaceful and quiet countryside. A part of you was fascinated by everything that surrounded you, you had seen more in a week than in your entire life, things that you had only heard of on the radio or read about in the newspaper. On the other side, you had to admit that you were kinda scared, you felt so small and lost in the midst of all of those buildings.

Just a few feet away from the shop, you bumped into someone, too lost in your thoughts to pay attention to where you were going.

“I’m so sorry, I....” you started to apologise, but your voice dropped when you met a pair of familiar green eyes.

“Miss Y/l/n” mr Changretta greeted you, taking off his hat “don’t worry, it’s my bad”

You stayed silent for a moment, your awkwardness was keeping you from uttering a logical sentence. He cleared his throat, thankfully breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Are you done for the day?”

“Yes” you nodded “I’m going home”

“You’re not from here, are you?” he guessed, slightly smiling at you. He had probably noticed that you walked around like a lost puppy, jumping at every loud noise and keeping a careful eye on everything that surrounded you.

“Is it that obvious?” you asked with a hint of irony in your voice, feeling your embarrassment slowly slipping away.

“Just a bit” he chuckled “I can walk you home, if you’d like” he offered.

“Thank you, but I wouldn’t want to bother you, it’s not too far from here” you said. He probably had things to do, maybe he wanted to go home and he was just asking you out of politeness. You couldn’t deny that you wouldn’t have minded some company, though, since it was dark and you didn’t know those streets very well.

“It’s no bother at all” he replied “I can’t have you waking alone at this hour of the night”

You hesitated for a moment. After all, you didn’t know this man and everyone seemed terrified by him, maybe it wasn’t the best idea. However, he had done nothing to scare you away, he had been nice and polite and something told you that he wouldn’t have hurt you. So you accepted.

He came back to the shop the following day and the day after that and all the days after. Sometimes he needed a new suit, sometimes he needed to talk with his uncle, sometimes he just kept you company for a while. Every night, he walked you home after your shift. If he had had a busy day and couldn’t make it to the shop, he made sure to at least be there when you had to go home, so that you didn’t have to walk alone. The days became weeks and the weeks became months. The first week or so, you walked at a certain distance. Then you found yourselves walking a bit closer every day, until he started offering you his arm. You enjoyed those late-night walks with Luca, you felt comfortable around him and it was a new feeling for you. As time passed by, you couldn’t help but notice the way your heart seemed to beat a bit faster when you were close to him, or the way your cheeks flushed every time the two of you casually touched. You tried your best to ignore the way you felt, you were pretty sure that he didn’t feel the same way. He was confident, and handsome, he always knew the right words to say. You were shy, clumsy and hopelessly awkward, certainly not what he was looking for.

Little did you know, the things you were insecure about were the ones that got him falling for you. He loved how easily your cheeks turned red, the way you stumbled over your words, the smile that you often tried to hide. It made you real, genuine. When you felt comfortable enough to open up to him, he fell for you even more. He found himself looking forward to see you, the time he spent with you had become the best part of his day. He couldn’t deny the calmness and comfort that took over him every time you placed your hand in the crook of his elbow, walking side by side with him. Just like you, he had no intention of confessing his feelings for you. You were nice and innocent and he didn’t want to involve you in his dangerous life. Of course, during those months you had learned about what he did and even though you didn’t push him away, he was sure that you didn’t want anything to do with that kind of things. You were just too good for someone as violent and ruthless as him. Too good to be put in danger for his selfish desire. For that reason, walking you home was enough. If it meant to see you smile, to hear you talking about your day, to see the spark in your eyes when you talked about the things you loved, it was enough. It had to be enough, because it seemed to be the only way to have you close to him without dragging you into the rabbit hole with him. You wouldn’t have found Wonderland in there.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to keep you safe.

******

For the first time in months, you were going home alone. Luca had told you the previous day that he had an important meeting to attend to outside the city and that he couldn’t be there that night. You wrapped your coat tighter around your body, the freezing air was penetrating into your bones and you couldn’t feel your hands. It was later than usual, you had stayed in the shop an extra half-hour to help your co-worker clean up the place. The streets seemed emptier and darker, but maybe it was just the absence of the man that had walked with you until that night that made you feel like that.

It didn’t matter how much you tried, you couldn’t shake off the bad feeling that you got since you walked out the shop. There was a little voice in your head telling you to wait for your friend, but you chose to go out alone, eager to get home as soon as possible.

Only you weren’t alone.

When you turned around, you saw three men walking a few feet behind you. You turned again, telling yourself that they weren’t following you, that you were just being paranoid.

But what if they were?

You decided to cross the road, to make sure that they just gave you the wrong impression.

They crossed the road, too.

You took a deep breath. It’s just a coincidence.

You crossed the road again.

They did that, too.

Fear took over you as you started to walk faster, your heart was pounding in your chest, every muscle in your body was tense. Your knees were wobbly and you weren’t sure for how long you could have relied on your legs before they gave up. You couldn’t think straight and you felt like you had completely lost control of your body as it shook uncontrollably.

Then a pair of hands grabbed you.

******

Luca was surprised not to see you at work the following day. His uncle told him that you had called to say you were sick, asking for permission to take a couple of days off. It felt odd to him, you never missed work and you seemed fine the last time he saw you. He couldn’t help but get worried, he knew you didn’t have anyone in New York and he didn’t like the fact that you were alone when you were sick, with no one there with you if things got worse.

He had no idea of how bad it actually was.

The memories of the previous night were a blur, everything happened so fast that you didn’t even know where you got the strength to get up from the dirty ground of the alley and go home.

You took a deep breath, grabbing the closest steady thing for support as you got out of the bathtub, wincing in pain. You wrapped a towel around your shivering body, rubbing your hands up and down to warm up. You hadn’t even realised that the water had turned so cold. You sat on your bed, staring at the floor, the same sentence repeated in your head again and again.

Tell your friend that this is what happens when he doesn’t comply.

These were the words that one of the men said to you, right before leaving you in that dark alley, hurting and bleeding.

You didn’t know how much time had passed when you decided to get up from the bed, probably a lot, since your hair was dry. You wore your underwear and you walked towards the mirror. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. You still hadn’t had the courage to look at the state you were in, too scared to see what they did to you. But you had to know. You slowly opened your eyes, looking at your reflection. You started by looking at your face. You had a bruise and a cut on your right cheek and a split lip; then your eyes fell on your body, that surely got it the worst. There were several blue and purple marks scattered all over the upper part of your body, a giant bruise on the left part of your ribs, you had finger marks on your wrists and arms. Your knees were skinned and your legs were full of scratches. Your eyes watered at the sight. Your body would have healed, but you couldn’t say the same for your mind. You were terrified and the scenes kept on repeating themselves in your mind. You felt weak, frail and broken and you hated it.

Your thoughts were interrupted when someone knocked on the door. You quickly put on your robe, cautiously walking towards the door, trying to push back your fear. You opened the door, immediately relaxing when you saw Luca’s familiar face. However, comfort was soon replaced by agitation, you didn’t want him to see you like that. He opened his mouth to talk, but he closed it right after his eyes fell on you. His expression changed, you couldn’t quite decipher the look in his eyes. He gently placed a had under your chin, turning your head slightly to examine your bruise.

“Who did this to you?” he asked after what seemed an eternity, letting his hand fall.

“No one, I just fell” you lied, crossing your arms over your chest and looking away from him. He entered the house, closing the door behind him.

“Tell me the truth” he demanded. His voice was firm, but it didn’t lose the hint of kindness that he only reserved to you. When you didn’t answer, he placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to look you in the eyes.

“Y/n...” he started, stopping when you winced in pain. His eyes moved to the bruise that was poking out of your robe, right under your neck. He hesitated for a moment, before moving his hand to the string of your robe, silently asking you for permission. When you nodded, he untied it, leaving you in your underwear.

He felt anger quickly building up in him as he looked at your body, clenching his jaw. The thought of someone doing that to you unleashed something violent in him, a blind rage that he wasn’t sure he could contain. However, he tried his best to hide it for your sake. You were already scared, you didn’t need to witness one of his outbursts.

“Three men followed me home last night” you admitted, still not looking at him “they told me to tell you that this is what happens when you don’t comply”

Luca should have seen that coming. He didn’t need to admit his feelings to put you in danger, just being in his life made you a target. They observed him, they had been observing him for weeks, waiting for the right moment to make their move. He made a decision and you payed the consequences. That was the reason why he didn’t want to involve you in his life in the first place, because that’s how it worked. It was the biggest unspoken rule of that wicked world: innocent people were punished for someone to achieve what they wanted. You were innocent and they hurt you. You of all people didn’t deserve it. Anger was partly replaced by guilt and remorse, as he covered your body with the robe again, enveloping your trembling frame in his arms. You wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your head against his chest as he gently stroked your hair.

“I’m sorry” he whispered “I know it means nothing right now, it doesn’t change what happened... but I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you in this mess”

You shook your head, holding him tighter. You didn’t blame him, not even in the slightest.

“It’s not your fault-”

“It is.” he interrupted you “They did this to you to get to me. It’s how it works, they hurt people we love to get to us”

You froze for a moment, trying to understand the meaning of his words. You raised your head, looking him in the eyes in a silent request for an answer.

“I love you, Y/n. I thought that you would be safe if I didn’t tell you, but I was wrong”

He cupped your face with his hands, being careful not to hurt you by touching your bruise. “And I want to protect you, I want to keep you safe.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. After all the pain that you had experienced, it almost felt like a dream, like something that your mind had made up to bring you some comfort. But it wasn’t a dream, Luca was right in front of you, telling you what you had hoped to hear for so long. “I love you, too” you uttered.

He slowly leaned towards you, moving his hands to your waist. He closed the space between you, his lips were soft on yours, he was gentle and his touch was feather-like, almost as if he was afraid you would break if he applied more pressure. You put your hands on his face, inviting him to deepen the kiss. Everything slowly became more urgent, he pulled you even closer while you ran a hand through his hair.

“No harm will come to you ever again” he said once he pulled away, caressing your cheek “I won’t let it. I’ll keep you safe. It’s a promise”

He meant that, he had never been more serious in his life. He never thought that he could feel something so pure and genuine, that someone could bring out the tenderness in him. He would have done anything in his power to protect it, to protect you.

And you believed him, because you had never felt safer.

Tag list: @arwyn-the-cyrptic-bisexural @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff

#peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fics #luca changretta imagine #luca changretta x reader

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babbushka · 4 years

Text

The Shape of You (3/12)

Supreme Leader Kylo Ren x Reader

You do a good job of it, staying out of the way. You’re quiet, you’re unsuspecting, you’re practically invisible; just the way you like it. Until one sunny summer day in 1962, the government base where you work acquires an unusual asset, and everything you know is about to change. In the race to save this lonely, desperate, beautiful man, loyalties are shaken on all sides – and the bonds of true love are tested.

7.4k ; CW: mentions of injury, mentions of past torture, angst

Tumblr Masterlist | Available on AO3

----------------------------

When you wake, it is dark once again.

For a moment, you blink and stare at the ceiling, the phantom image of his face swimming in the inky black of night. Holding on to that face, you tentatively reach a hand out into the air, hoping to touch him, hoping to feel something.

In the end, it is nothing but empty air, and your hand drops.

“The only station for when you’re on the go, tune in to AM W-6-Z-O!” The swingin’ dancers on the radio blare once again, an official signal that the time for dreaming is over.

With this new encounter, this new…you don’t even know what it is, you can’t help but feel your pulse quicken. Everything is the same – you will get up to brew your coffee, Armitage will pound against the wall, you will share your breakfast and take three buses to work – but simultaneously, nothing will ever be the same again. Because possibly for the first time in many years, you do not dread the thought of going to work.

Not that you dreaded it, work, not really. It was a good job, an important job, a job that was part of something bigger, much bigger than yourself. But you could not deny the excitement that simmers just below your skin at the thought of it.

The thought of seeing him again.

“You’re chipper this morning.” Armitage scowls as he opens the door for you, a bright cheerful smile on your face.

“Haven’t the foggiest idea what you mean.” You breeze right past him, placing the percolator down on his pot-holder that he keeps on the counter just for this very occasion. Immediately going to his cupboards, you begin to remove the flour and sugar, giving him a knowing glance and asking even though you know the answer, “Pancakes?”

“Please, god knows I’m going to need something sweet today.” He groans, moves to sit at the table.

Sometimes, you can’t help but think how domestic this is. How your friendship had blossomed into a bond so much stronger than you had ever expected. You wonder if Armitage thinks it too, if he ever is reminded of a lifetime ago, when he was married to a beautiful woman and had a house in the suburbs, if when you pour his coffee and flip pancakes on the stove, his heart aches for that long gone time.

If he does, he says nothing about it, so you don’t bring it up.

“What have they done now?” You ask instead, knowing that this is a topic of conversation in which Armitage will always have something to say, always have something to complain about.

“It’s just these essays. Half the class it would seem, completely missed the point of the extra credit film.” He sighs, gesturing to a stack of papers once again sitting on the kitchen table.

“Oh that’s alright, at least Boris is happy.” Sliding pancakes off of the pan and onto a plate, you douse them in a generous helping of syrup and powdered sugar for the both of you, before moving to sit opposite him at the table.

Just then, the lights flicker on and off, making you both frown. The power had never had much of an issue before, what with the movie theater just downstairs needing those extra generators. You glance out the window, it wasn’t raining, and it wasn’t windy – both telltale signs of potential power failure.

“Do you ever worry about what will happen when he has to shut down the building?” Armitage grumbles, carefully and very specifically cutting his stack of pancakes into wedge pieces.

“No, because he won’t.” You shut that train of thought down at once within him, knowing that while he likes to pretend otherwise, your Professor has a proclivity for the dramatics unlike anyone else you’ve ever met. “He has renters for a reason after all, and the summer tourists bring in enough to make ends meet.”

Armitage thinks about that for a moment or two, before accepting the answer.

“You’re right.” He concedes, sounding resigned.

“I’m always right.” You wink, and the two of you finish your breakfast in companionable silence.

------------------

When you leave Armitage’s apartment and go back to your own, you cannot deny the rush that is the thought of seeing him again. It seems so silly, and of course it is silly, but something in you wants to look nice for him.

You fix your hair and pick out your cleanest most nicely ironed uniform, concerned for the first time about how it fits you, how it forms to your body. It is a modest uniform – you are a cleaning woman after all – but you find that despite the drab color palette and utilitarian shape, you look good. The clock chimes, and you realize that there isn’t much time to fuss, so instead of standing in front of the mirror, you pick a pair of heels off your grand shoe display, and hope that he finds the bright blue color appealing.

Dawdling had never been a trait of yours before, and now you understand why.

The bus is sitting and waiting at the stop when you exit your apartment building, and you run in those bright blue heels as fast as your legs can take you to make it just in time. The click-clack of your steps on the pavement alert everyone nearby, as you bolt towards the bus. Water on the ground from the night’s dew reflects the colors of the neon signs all around you, and when your foot splashes in one of the light puddles, a rainbow scatters around your ankles.

You make a beeline straight for the doors, which are open and welcoming you like a warm embrace, and only once the momentum of your body has thrown you into your seat, do you let out a long exhale.

“Thank you, I’m so sorry!” You could bury your face into your hands with how embarrassed you are, but your hands are shaking from the adrenaline of nearly missing the bus.

Missing this bus would have been bad, very very bad. It would have meant that you’d be late to work, and you have never once, not in the entire ten years on the job, have you been late for work. Such an irregularity would have raised suspicion, would have called attention to you – more attention than there already was. They wouldn’t like that, it would compromise your larger job, your more important mission -- you could not afford to be late. So, you sigh with relief and will your heart to stop pounding in your chest; all was well, you are on the bus, it did not pull away from the stop without you on it, you will be there on time.

“Good morning Miss (Y/N), no need to apologize, you know I’ll always wait for you.” Mr. Henry’s kind eyes glance at you with amusement through the rearview mirror, and you once again thank your lucky stars to have a friend like him.

Much like Armitage, you had never expected to befriend the bus driver. You had of course planned on being friendly and polite, but the extent to which you enjoyed the elderly man’s company had surprised you. And what’s more, you were constantly surprised by his willingness to be friendly with you in return. It reminded you that perhaps, there was a solidarity at the bottom – when there is no one to look out for the people like you and him, you look out for one another.

Could Mr. Henry have gotten in trouble by waiting for you? Would he be late to his other stops now? These were questions that you couldn’t help but think, but you have to wonder if they were questions he considered. Surely it would have been easier to simply leave you behind, but he hadn’t done such a thing, and you cannot express how grateful you are for that.

You resolve to thank him somehow, some way more meaningful than simply the words. It strikes you then, that despite speaking to one another every day, you still know very little about the man. You know he has a beautiful wife and a blossoming garden, you know he picks up a cup of coffee from the donut shop before starting his route, and you know which music stations he prefers to listen to. But beyond that, you have both remained relatively private.

He was not so different from you in that regard, you suppose.

Most people are not so different from one another, you suppose.

“For absolutely no reason at all, what is your favorite type of baked good, Mr. Henry?” You ask after a few moments, when the bus has left the stop and has continued its route, the Las Vegas strip a myriad of lights and colors, blinking and twirling in the night.

“Oh you don’t have to go doing all that – ”

“But I want to.” You insist, “Please let me?”

He looks up at you once again through the rearview window, and you see the sparkle of a smile in his eye. You wonder when the last time someone did something kind for him was, someone doing it just out of the want to see him happy.

“I may or may not be fond of those caramel brownies you make.” Sheepishly, almost as if he will be scolded for revealing such information, he confesses this to you.

You recall a time when you had to bring something to the company party, a holiday get together many years ago. You had been charged with bringing a dessert, and as a thank you to Mr. Henry’s continual kindness and hard work, you offered him one.

It makes you strangely emotional, to know that he had enjoyed it enough to remember it, after all these years.

“How very interesting to know.” You smile, and he smiles back, before he turns his attention to the next bus stop, and your window for conversation comes to a close.

She is waiting for you at the bus exchange today, standing and huddled in the large group of other passengers. It is chilly out in the desert tonight, and she has a beautiful black and white checkerboard coat wrapped around her body. In moments like these, watching the steam and fog of the bus exchange plume around her feet, Gwendoline reminds you of a movie star.

Perhaps in another life, her face would light up the screen, her silvery blonde hair and striking cheekbones commanding every man in the theater to fall head over heels in love with her. Sometimes she talks about it, about moving away from this city, about quitting her job.

Perhaps in another life, you might go with her.

Armitage would surely come too, wouldn’t he? He could get a job as a professor anywhere, he could pack up his apartment and join you and Gwen on a trip to Los Angeles, or New York City, or perhaps somewhere abroad – but you can’t, can you. You can’t leave.

And so, as selfish as it is, you hope that Gwen never leaves either, because you’re not so sure what you would do, were she to go.

This is especially true, as she catches sight of you politely making your way to where she is standing, and she smiles and throws a hand up to wave to you, as if you didn’t already see her. Gwen was, in so many ways, a beacon of color in the world of black and grey.

“(Y/N)!” She hollers happily to you, competing with the noise of the bus exchange.

The hiss and hydraulics of brakes and doors opening and closing, the sound of engines revving and radios humming, of the news playing on black and white screens behind a window of glass, of people talking and smoking and eating and laughing even though it’s too early for it all, still through this noise Gwen’s voice cuts through.

“Morning,” You smile back at her, offering a thermos as is your tradition every morning. “Coffee?”

“You’re a saint,” Gwen responds, accepting it as is her tradition. “Oh I love when you wear the blue shoes!”

She takes a step back for you to point your toe and extend your leg ever so slightly, the dazzling satin shining like sapphires in the artificial light of the fluorescent overheads. One of the men waiting in the crowd with you lets out a whistle when your skirt rides up just enough to show a little thigh, and you have to physically restrain Gwendoline from snapping her teeth at him.

“I really like this pair, I don’t know why I don’t wear them more often.” Chuckling just a little at your friend’s fierce protective nature, you draw her attention back to the shoes. It wouldn’t do to get into a fight just minutes before being in an enclosed crowded space together.

“Maybe because they’re the least practical thing for a janitor?” Gwendoline mutters, still shooting the man dirty looks. He has, thankfully, backed off – probably for his own safety. Rarely do men ever expect women to snap back, and oh how Gwendoline’s bite is worse than her bark.

“Maybe, but they are so beautiful.” You shrug, and this at the very least, Gwen can understand.

“Come, I think that’s our bus now.” She whispers to you so as to not draw the attention of the crowd around you, knowing how the rush of everyone wanting to get onto the bus and secure a seat can often lead to a mob.

Sure enough, as she pushes her way to the front and you follow her diligently, when the bus rounds the corner and the pushing and shoving begins, you two are already on your way to the back of the bus, coats and purses in your laps, a deck of cards ready to be shuffled.

In the back of the bus, you and Gwen hide your faces behind a hand of cards each, a game of Go Fish that you are sorely losing. You almost wish that the bus would hit a bump in the road, so that the cards could go scattering all over the floor and you wouldn’t be shamed with the loss, but then the thought of having to clean it all up makes you reconsider.

Gwen, for her part, doesn’t ease up on you one bit, a great big grin on her face as she claims yet another of your cards for her own little pile.

“I dreamt of him again.” You bring up, as nonchalantly as you can.

The bus has greatly reduced down its number of passengers, thankfully. No longer packed like sardines, you and Gwen have enough room to spread out, your belongings no longer piled up on your lap. Instead, they rest on the seat just across the little aisle, as you normally do. Still, it’s not entirely empty, there are quite a few stops to go before the bus pulls over into the dark of the desert and identification is requested.

All this means, is that while you can speak, it has to still be in hushed tones, lest someone from outside the building’s personnel overhear. Gwen hears you perfectly well despite your near whisper, and her face practically alights in the same way those flood lights search the sky.

“Please tell me there’s a face this time!” She abandons the cards to grasp at your hands.

For someone who prides herself on practicality, Gwendoline was incredibly invested in these dreams that you have. Every time you bring it up, she is genuinely and completely interested in hearing more, and you’re more than happy to indulge her.

“There is, and you won’t believe it, but it was, well, it was the Asset.” The last word is whispered so quietly that you might as well just be mouthing the words.

Upon hearing this, her eyes widen, mouth falling open ever so slightly.

“You’ve seen him?” Her shocked whisper makes you cast a glance around.

Good, you think, no one is paying any attention to you, everyone who is left has seated themselves at the front of the bus, knowing that they will be getting off soon and not wanting to have to shuffle through the narrow aisle.

“I – ”

“(Y/N) you didn’t sneak into the lab after all that, did you?” Gwendoline suddenly turns frustrated, exasperated with you. She hisses through clenched teeth, “After that creep Tarkin warned us specifically not to do that very thing?”

“I couldn’t help it Gwen, you can’t tell me that you’re not so curious to know what’s going on in there!” You explain, and she only scoffs and rolls her eyes.

“Of course I’m curious! But I also have some sense of self-preservation.” She looks down at where her hands are clutching yours, turns your palms over in hers. You look down, see how calloused and rough the both of your hands are from a decade of harsh chemicals and hard work. “What if that man is dangerous? What if he hurts you?”

“He can’t, he’s behind bulletproof glass, I don’t think he can even hurt himself with how secure they’ve got him.” You try reassuring her, and it seems that at least for the moment, she is convinced.

Chewing on her lip for a moment or two, eventually she relents to your assurances, and a great big smile spreads over her face once more. You have half a mind to ask her what lipstick she’s wearing, and there you go again, daydreaming about looking nice for this man…

“What does he look like?” Gwen snaps you out of your reverie, and you duck your head, bashful.

You’ve been thinking about him and the way he looks ever since you laid your eyes on him, on his incredibly impressive frame.

“He’s huge. Built like a refrigerator, tall and wide. His face was hard to see, he wears a mask that covers nearly half of it, but his hair is long and dark, and his eyes…” You can see it so clearly, there in your mind’s eye; can see his flexing biceps, the abs, the thick trail of hair that disappears behind those swim trunks they have him in.

With a knowing smile and a shake of her head, Gwendoline sighs.

“You’re going to see him again, aren’t you.” It’s not so much a question, as it is a resignation. She knew you well enough to know that once you’ve decided something, once you’ve put your mind to something, there was very little that could stop you.

If only she knew how deep that sentiment ran.

“I have to, I promised him that I would.” You say, that giddy excitement returning to you once more.

You know that the lab is going to be on your list, you and Gwen are the only ones with high enough clearance for it, you know that at some point in the day, you’ll be face to face with him once again. And that thought thrills you, it has your leg bouncing, your pulse quickening.

Gwen can feel it in your palms, and she lets go of your hands so that you can fiddle with something to keep those busy fingers satisfied.

“Just…just be safe, okay?” She whispers, “You know I’ll cover for you, but I need you to promise me that you’ll be safe.”

Much like Armitage, and even like Boris, or Mr. Henry, you find yourself once again wondering how you got so lucky to have friends so willing to look out for you. You would do the same for any of them in a heartbeat, of course, but something about the knowledge that Gwen would lie to Mrs. Parker, or even Robert – something that could risk her job – made your heart clench.

“I promise.” You whisper.

She looks at you hard, trying to see what thoughts are going on inside your head, before letting the conversation go entirely, picking up her cards once again, determined to beat you at a few more hands before pulling up to the shuttle stop.

------------------

The morning passes uneventfully, as the mornings typically do. Today though, there’s an undeniable pep in your step, a glow about you that the other janitors notice. It’s not that they hadn’t noticed you before, they had of course – but with Gwendoline around, usually she absorbed all the attention. It was flustering to be on the receiving end of it, listening as the boys in the halls got a little too chummy with you, thinking your smiles were for them. Things like:

“Lookin’ good (Y/N)!”

“Where are you off to with a smile that big?”

“Fancy a smoke with me and the boys?”

Are whistled and shot your way, much to your amusement -- funny what a little confidence and a pair of heels could do!

You politely reject everyone’s advances, diligent about getting your work done and doing it well. The sooner you finish everything on your clipboard, the sooner you can get to the lab. It’s on your list, as you knew it would be, but it’s so far down and comes after so many other tasks, that you feel as though Mrs. Parker knew you were eager to return to the tank and the man inside of it.

Thoughts of the man consume you, as you go about your list. Nothing was too strenuous today which you were grateful for, it wouldn’t do to be too exhausted to spend time with him. So, as you empty all the little trashcans and ashtrays, as you clean windows and glass panes in offices, as you take the great dust broom to the floors, you let yourself wonder about him.

What were they doing to him today? Were they going to hurt him again? Would he kill someone again?

The last time you saw him, he was wounded, and that bacta shit had healed him. Would they be wounding him further, or did they have what they needed? You wondered if the scientists in the lab would be so careless as to leave their notes out again. The boys back home would be more than interested in reading further developments, you were sure.

Reminded of the boys, you feel more determined than ever to figure out what’s going on with this man, why he’s there in the first place. Surely he must be Russian, why else would the government be so keen on keeping him as contained as he is? Although, you don’t recall ever seeing a plane like the one that was being dissected in that warehouse, so maybe he wasn’t.

Maybe he wasn’t human at all…the thought pops into your head, and you blink it away.

The stories of alien life in Area 51 were just that – stories. No matter how often you liked to joke about them with Gwen, that’s all that it was, just jokes. Still, that ion engine, the strange shape of the wings, the strange gel that seems to have otherworldly healing properties…it raised so many questions that you simply didn’t have any answers to.

As you sweep the floors, back and forth and back and forth with your big dust broom, you wonder if perhaps you’ll be able to speak to the man. Perhaps he could give you some answers, perhaps you could help him.

You have no idea how you could, but maybe if the two of you worked together, you could figure out a way. One thing was for certain, you felt something for this mystery man. A sense of protection, a bond of some sort. It didn’t have a name, didn’t have much to define it at all – but it was there. Much like the dream, that reoccurring dream, it was indefinite and blurred around the edges, but it was there all the same.

For a brief moment, you wonder what the man dreams about.

You wonder if he dreams at all, in the tank.

------------------

Time passes strangely, in the building. You’re certain that you’ve just gotten there, had just hopped off the shuttle with Gwen – but in the blink of an eye, it’s lunch time. Gwendoline very shyly lets you know that she’s going to be having lunch with Mary, and true to your word the other day, you’re nothing but encouraging.

Besides, it means that you could spend your lunch in the lab, it was the next place on your list anyway, no one could be angry with you for being there, no one could accuse you of being out of place. In the locker room though, you find yourself frozen, standing in front of the little metal locker that you call yours. There’s a compact in your purse, and you pull it out, look at yourself, really look at yourself.

You feel so foolish for all this, especially when you open Gwen’s locker and find one of her tubes of lipstick. She always keeps a couple in her locker for emergencies, something you found silly, but now are eternally grateful for. Picking out a shade that best compliments your skin tone, you apply it carefully. The damn thing is likely going to smudge anyway while you eat your lunch, but at the very least you’ll look put together when you first arrive at the lab.

He better be appreciative of all this, you think to yourself with a nervous chuckle, he better care about all the effort you’re going through. Gwen would tell you that men never care, but she’s not here right now, off playing footsie in the courtyard with Mary.

As you walk the halls down in the bowels of the building, you realize how utterly alone you are in here. Everyone is on lunch, all the scientists, the janitors, the management. Not a single soul is in these halls, the greenish bluish light no competition for the sunshine that waits them near the picnic tables outside. You don’t mind, not one bit, and in fact it thrills you, the thought that you might be with him all alone.

Swiping your keycard through the little number pad, the doors beep and slowly open. Three layers of bulletproof steel slide open, one set horizontally, one set vertically, and one set diagonally. This lab would likely be perfectly impenetrable, in case of an attack, but you recognize that as well designed as it is to keep things out, it is also designed to keep things in.

Things like the man, who finally, after what seems like a lifetime, you will get to see again.

The lab is, much like the rest of this wing of the building, empty.

Once again you are faced with the mechanical nature of it all, the dark grey metal walls and floor, the tables with all sorts of piles stacked high atop them. The lighting is dark, kept dim, even dimmer than the halls outside. You hold your breath as the doors shut behind you, as they lock time and time again, sealing the lab away from the rest of the world.

You park your janitorial cart against the wall, your brown paper bag lunch clutched in your hands, just for something to hold, something to keep your hands occupied so that they don’t shake.

"Hello?" You call out gently, hopefully.

The tank is on the far end of the lab, and you take care to approach it cautiously. There are a million bubbles filling the tank, the bacta gel having been disturbed, and recently. Those bubbles trap the air and make the gel look nearly white with all the foam. You have to get closer, have to approach the glass, straining to see inside it.

“It’s just me, I’ve come back to visit you.” You try again, this time speaking a little louder. Maybe he just couldn’t hear you, through the glass and the gel.

Bracing yourself for him to scare the shit out of you with a startling appearance, you nearly press your nose to the tank. But seconds go by, and there is no activity. A deep deep sense of disappointment and fear spike through your body – if he was not here, where was he? What had they done to him? Where had they taken him? Was he alright -- ?

The immediate string of questions is interrupted by a splashing sound coming from your left, and you whirl around, clutching the brown paper bag to your chest.

He is out of the tank, but he is still here, still in the room with you. For whatever reason, he has been moved from the tank to the pool, and you know this because as you watch with wide eyes, he rises up out of the water, standing up to his full height on his two legs, strong legs, powerful thighs that flex and carry his body towards you.

Remaining perfectly still, you do your best not to gasp. You had thought perhaps, the glass from the tank had distorted his proportions, maybe he wasn’t nearly as big as you had thought. But you’re wrong, he’s even bigger somehow, in the flesh, in front of you. He must be over six feet tall, and twice as wide as the normal man, or at least, twice as wide as any man you had ever seen.

But the most unexpected thing of all, is that he is not wearing the mask.

You have a clear, unobstructed view of his face for the first time, and it takes your breath away. He is utterly, completely, totally handsome. Your imagination could have never come up with the configuration of his features, never in a million years. His nose, so strong and proud looks slightly broken from the front, but when he shakes the water away from his hair and you catch sight of his profile, it is beautifully sloped and triangular. His lips have to be the most full and plush that you’ve ever seen, his ears are large as they poke out from the dark drenched blackness of his hair.

You’re staring, you know you are, but he doesn’t seem deterred. In fact, he’s staring right back at you, looking at you with soulful brown eyes that seem to be sharper than anything you’ve ever seen, eyes that seem to be taking you in with the same level of intensity that you do him.

“Oh!” You realize that he can hear you now, you realize that this is the chance you’ve been hoping for, so you reach out your hand for him to shake, and offer him a friendly, “Hello.”

The man’s eyes track the movement in a way that can only be described as predatory, as an apex creature focusing all their energy on their prey. Strangely though, you don’t feel like prey. Keeping your hand extended, you take slow even breaths, showing him that you mean no harm, showing him that you won’t hurt him.

You’re not like those men, those scientists, you won’t hurt him.

“My name is (Y/N). It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You introduce yourself, speaking as carefully and clearly as you can. “What’s your name? Can you understand me?”

The man simply looks at you, as if in a trance of some kind. You look around, check over your shoulder to make sure, absolutely sure, that no one is around.

Once you’re determined that the coast is clear, and this man continues to take in the sight of you, you move one step forward, closer to the edge of the pool.

“Can you understand me now?” These words come in another language, a switch of your tongue that would have you arrested on site if anyone had heard.

He frowns, confused, and you wonder if this is the first time anyone has tried being polite to him since his capture. You’re about to retract your hand, when suddenly, he lifts his own, his arm tensing as he reaches for you – only to be stopped by long chains that are attached to cuffs on each of his wrists, and to the metal collar he wears around his throat.

The man looks at his bindings, and strains against them with a strangled shout of frustration. His muscles bulge, but it’s to no avail, whatever he has been shackled in, is too strong for him to break through. You have to sit, your legs unable to support you for the moment as you take him all in. Settling on a step near the edge of the pool, you lean in enough for this man to do the same. He too sits, just on the other side of the edge, as close to you as the chains will allow.

Reaching your hand further, further, further still, the man freezes as you place a palm to his cheek. The skin of his scar is smooth, and you find that surprising, as you stroke his face. Eyes closing, the man lets out a shaky shuddering exhale, nuzzling into your palm. He reminds you of a bear trapped in spiked teeth out in the forest, or a lion in the cage of a circus.

“Why do they have you chained and collared like this, why are you here?” The Russian flows freely now, you no longer hold it back the way that you might have in front of anyone else.

Then, suddenly, the strangest noises come out of his mouth. You think that he might be in pain for a minute, but then you realize no, he is speaking to you, impassioned and desperate, his voice is deep, rumbling, coming from the depths of his chest, a baritone that vibrates down inside your bones.

This is the voice that you heard in your dream, you realize. The voice parroting your words back to you, now you know why it had sounded so strange, so off. This man didn’t speak English, and he had only been mimicking the sounds, not knowing what it meant. You’re not sure what this man speaks, and it pains you, it pains you to not share this with him.

“I – I’m sorry I don’t understand.” You have to cut him off, putting your hand over his mouth to interrupt him, to get him to stop. You’re not sure if he even knows what you’re saying, if he can understand but not translate it out of his own mouth, you don’t know. “I’m familiar with ten different languages but yours isn’t one of them, I’m sorry.”

The man looks so sad, devastated, and that at least feels like maybe he can understand you. All at once, you recognize that if he can understand you, there may be hope. Perhaps if you both learn to communicate in a way that doesn’t rely on words, perhaps if you can find a way, you can help him.

That will require some planning, great planning, careful planning.

The man is watching you, he rests his head on the ledge of the pool, his black hair slinking and sliding down the strong muscles of his back. It is as if he is telling you to not be afraid of him, the very same way you were trying to tell him not to be afraid of you.

It strikes you, for a moment, how human he is. Even if by some cosmic improbability he is an alien, he is human. His stomach growls then, loudly, so loudly that it makes you laugh, and you shut yourself up immediately, afraid of scaring him with the noise. He doesn’t go anywhere though, his eyes only widen, making you smile.

The man mimics the motion, smiling back at you, a small laugh of his own.

He has dimples, you think, as you only grow more and more attached to him, and his teeth are so crooked.

“Here, I don’t know what kind of shit they feed you, but you must be hungry.” You rifle through the little brown paper bag that you’ve been holding in a death grip this entire time, pulling out the first thing you see. The clementine fills your palm, you offer it to him cautiously, encouraging, “Go ahead, you can have it, I promise it’s okay.”

The man, wherever he has come from, must not have seen one of these before, because he takes it in his hand and immediately goes to bite through the rind. Your hand flies out and grabs his before he can do so, and despite it all, you laugh again.

He scowls, thinking you’re making fun of him, so you simply shake your head and demonstrate how to peel the hard outer flesh of the fruit away.

“Don’t make fun of me for the way I peel it, I can never get it to come off in one go.” You mutter, wondering wondering wondering if he can understand you.

Watching diligently and carefully, he sits patiently at the edge of the pool, his palm extended, resting near your hands. Piece by piece you peel the clementine, always trying to get it in one spiral but failing, as usual. Eventually, once the floor has been littered with peel and the clementine is bare, you pry the citrus into segments, and place one in his hand.

It looks so small, comically small in the man’s palm, even smaller as he raises the piece to his mouth and pops it in between his teeth, the juice squirting into your face, making you laugh once again. The man’s face lights up immediately, already asking with those strangled sounding words that you cannot understand, a language foreign to even your ears.

“It’s good right?” You hope that that’s what he’s saying, you hope that he likes it. Giving him the whole thing, you watch as he delicately pulls the segments apart. “Bright and sweet. It’s just about the only thing bright in this whole place, hm?”

Instead of eating the entire thing as you would have expected him to do, the man thoughtfully gives you half of the segments. You notice that they are the larger pieces, the ones that must be more flavorful, juicier. He is kind, you decide, kind enough to offer you the better of the halves at the very least.

“Why are you here?” You whisper, knowing he cannot answer. “Why do they torture you so?”

There are no fresh wounds this time, you are glad to see. Nothing healing or inflicted, just the smoothed over scars. You long to touch them, the pink lines that mar his flesh, but he is a person of agency, and you will not disrespect him the way that these scientists do.

So instead, you offer your hand out to him once more, and after careful consideration, the man presses his cheek against your palm. Your thumb rubs soothing circles against the little beauty marks and freckles that pepper his skin, and you sigh.

“I’m going to figure out a way for us to communicate. I don’t know how, but I will.” You tell him, tell yourself, “You won’t be alone, I’ll help you, I just need to figure out how.”

Out in the hall beyond the sealed off lab, a bell chimes, signaling that lunch is over. Regret and disappointment rise up in your throat like acid, you don’t want to leave him, you don’t want to go away from him. He has been in your dreams, all this time, it has been him, of this you’re now sure. But you have a job, you have a responsibility, and you cannot lose it now.

Pulling away, he makes a noise of protest, and this is a noise you can understand.

“I have to clean. You can watch me, if you’d like, but I can’t just sit here all day, or else they’ll be very angry with me.” You explain to him, willing him to understand, “And if they’re angry, then I can’t visit again.”

The man sighs, chews on the segmented clementine.

With that, you move to the other side of the lab where you’ve parked your cart. The only thing on the list is to mop the floors, and you find that you hate that, you wish there were more, wish that you could have more time. You never thought you’d think this, but you hate how efficient you’ve become, how they’ve entrusted you with the jobs they know you are quick at. It is a double edged sword, because if you weren’t good at it, then maybe they wouldn’t have assigned this lab to you in the first place.

Dunking your mop in the solution that you make yourself – vinegar and baking soda, and a little dish soap – you begin to work, the thing you’re actually there for. It is very obvious that he’s watching you, from his spot in the pool. He walks back and forth, almost stalking you, his hulking frame tethered to you by an invisible string. When you go to the right, so does he. When you double back to the left, he goes as well. You smile, hoping that he finds the incredible mundanity of it all not so mundane.

“You’re very handsome. I’m only saying this because I know you’ve got no idea what it is that I’m saying, otherwise I’d be dying of embarrassment. But you’re handsome.” You admit when your back is turned to him, swishing the mop this way and that, picking up the little stains and debris that have stuck to the floor in the time since it was last mopped. “I was wondering what your face looked like, without the mask.”

You continue to mop, and he continues to watch you.

In a strange sense, it is almost like a dance. The sound of the water splashing as he moves back and forth, as he creates little waves and currents, acts as a rhythm, a steady beat to which you mop. His breathing is calm, and he seems to be in a relaxed mood. Maybe he has been hypnotized by the repetitive motions that you make, or maybe, a hopeful part of you thinks, maybe he feels completely at ease with you.

The thought sours in the back of your throat, because you know that once you have finished this, you will have to leave.

You prolong it, you try your best, you really do. But eventually there comes a point in which you cannot procrastinate any longer, you cannot draw it out. The floor is mopped, your clipboard is checked.

Carefully, walking over the freshly mopped tiles slowly and deliberately so that you don’t slip, you sit on the edge of the pool once again, something painful like sorrow making your head hurt.

“I’m done.” You whisper, “I have to go now.”

He’s alarmed by this, the man. He seizes forward, rushes to reach for you with wide panicked eyes, but the chains around his neck yank him back, and he stumbles for a moment, nearly loses his footing in the water. You could cry, with the desperation in the words that he speaks, with the way he reaches for you with bound hands.

You lean as far into the pool as you can, your arms wrapping around him, nearly toppling over into the water with how far forward you are. You don’t care, so what if you should fall? You cannot bear to see him so sad, and so you pull him into an embrace. He holds you tightly, hands curling in your hair, breathing in your smell.

“I know, I know I’m sorry – I don’t want to leave you. But I’ve got more work to do.” Your voice wobbles, hating this, hating how he’s chained, hating how he’s going to be all alone, how he’s going to be tortured and harmed in your absence. You hate it, and he doesn’t want to let you go, you can tell by how strong of a grip he has on you as he talks and talks and talks in a language you don’t know.

There is nothing you can do today though, to help him. For the first time in your life, you feel overwhelmingly insignificant, in the way that you can’t do anything to help him.

“I’ll come back tomorrow, even if it’s not on the list, okay? I’ll come back, I promise.” Your hands cup his cheeks, looking at one another, your eyes boring into his. “I’ll always come back.”

You let go of him now though, and you turn your back to him, mopping up your steps so that the footprints do not give you away.

Swiping your keycard through the number pad once more, the doors open for you, and you do your best not to cry when you hear his pained shout muffled behind the steel.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren/you #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren reader insert #supreme leader kylo ren #shape of water au #sow au #my writing #kylo ren angst #kylo ren fluff #adam driver fanfiction #adcu

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Drunk in Love (Gottrosenali) - Writworm42

A/N: Mik gets very, very drunk and acts even dumber than usual. His boyfriends come to reign him in. TW for heavy alcohol use/drunkeness. Thank you x1000000 to Holtz for beta-ing <3 title from Drunk in Love by Beyonce.

Rosé had never thought of himself as old, not really. Sure, he jokes about it, especially on days where he sleeps wrong and strains his neck or his back hurts for no reason, or nights where he just can’t keep his eyes open past eleven. But he can still party, still drink, still recovers quickly from even the most stunt-heavy gigs. So he’s not old, or so he used to think.

Then he and Denali started dating Mik.

Mik isn’t unreasonable; he’s happy to spend a quiet night at home now and again. But ninety percent of the time, even when he’s not working, he wants to go out to the club or the bar, some friend’s party or some event he saw on Instagram. And that’s fine; Denali and Rosé will come along, make an appearance and have fun for a few hours.

It’s when it’s the fourth night in a row that Mik expects them to be out until 3 AM that’s the real problem. As young and hip as both of them still claim to be, keeping up with Mik is like trying to play tag with the energizer bunny. The kid can drink them both under the table and still be up the next day with only a mild headache, and he can dance in heels for the entire night without needing to take them off. Hell, Rosé has seen Mik up at 4:30 AM before while looking completely unbothered, and when he wakes up at noon the next day he’s not even so much as a little bit groggy.

So it’s no surprise that sometimes, Denali and Rosé have to bow out to recover from the adventures Mik drags them into, instead staying home to watch the news and head to bed early.

Not that that makes them old. It doesn’t.

Really. It doesn’t.

Unfortunately, his body doesn’t seem to agree with him when he’s snapped out of sleep one night by his phone ringing, his eyes sore from the strain of being kept open as he gropes around in the dark for the source of the blaring noise.

“Wha—Rosie?” Denali stirs beside him, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he sits up and watches Rosé answer the call.

“It’s 2 o’clock in the morning, Kandy, what could you possibly need?” he hisses, too tired and pissed to care if Kandy hears him clearly over the thumping music in the background.

“You need to come get your man!” Kandy practically screams, causing Rosé to jerk back and bring his phone away from his ear. “Like, now!”

Jesus Christ.

Rosé is about to ask what Mik has done, but he’s cut off by screaming in the background, a very familiar one that he instantly recognizes as his boyfriend’s.

“ Whozzat Kandlee whozzit whozzit OH MY GOD IS IT PIZZA? Gagged oh my gag, I want pizza can you call pizza make it extra pep—Pepe—fuck, just make it cheese—“

Rosé pinches the bridge of his nose when the next thing he hears is a series of thuds and then a little WHOO followed by peals of Mik’s drunken laughter.

“We have to go get him, don’t we?” Denali flops back down onto his pillow with a groan, and it almost pains Rosé to nod, poking his partner to get him up again.

“Send me the address, we’ll be there ASAP.”

—

The club is loud and dark, flashes of coloured lights exploding every few seconds but still not quite managing to illuminate much more than the silhouettes of people packed into every square inch of the room, dancing against each other or standing with drinks in hand, yelling over the beat vibrating the floor under Rosé’s feet as he walks. Behind him, Denali’s hand squeezes his shoulder, the other man holding on tightly so as not to get lost as they scan through the chaos to try and find their boyfriend.

Not that they have to look for long; they’re only about halfway through the dancefloor when Mik’s voice catches their ears, loud and hoarse and slurring so much they can hardly understand what he’s screaming.

One look at who he’s screaming at, though, and they already know that whatever’s going on can’t be good.

“Hey, hey, asshole! Hey, I said fight me! Come on, you afraid? Fight me fight me fight me!” Mik is screeching in the face of a man twice his size as he fights against Kandy’s hold, trying to get closer to the guy. To his credit, the stranger doesn’t even bat an eye, just ignores Mik like he’s a fly buzzing around him. Which, size- and muscles-wise, Mik pretty much is.

“Oh, fuck, thank God you guys are here,” Kandy grunts as Rosé and Denali push themselves over to the scene, sighing deeply in tandem as Mik continues to wriggle in his friend’s arms. “I don’t even know what his problem is, he just saw this guy and decided he want to fight him--”

“That’s right, that’s right-- HEY!” Mik catches sight of Denali and Rosé and immediately stills, grinning widely, and for a moment, Rosé thinks it’s over, that just the sight of them has tamed drunk-Mik enough that he won’t antagonize the meathead still miraculously ignoring him any more.

It’s wishful thinking, though, because not even a moment later, Mik is turning back to the guy, eyes narrowing as he hisses, “My boyfriends are here now, they’ll fuck you up, you wait and see--”

Of course, it’s just their luck that it’s that threat that finally wakes the troll, the guy turning to stare at he and Denali and frowning deeply before he puts his drink back down on the bar and stands up from his seat, immediately towering over them.

“Listen, I don’t know what your guys’ problem is--” the man clenches his jaw, fists balling by his sides, and wow , his pecs are huge, like size-of-Mik’s-head huge, and if one of them doesn’t say something fast, Rosé just knows that all four of them are gonna wind up getting thrown through a wall.

So he smiles, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply before stepping forward and laying a hand on the guy’s shoulder.

“Listen, mama. I’m gonna level with you, okay?” He locks eyes with the man, who doesn’t look particularly impressed, but who nonetheless listens as Rosé continues, “It’s two-thirty in the morning. I just got here. My back hurts just standing right now, and I’m going to wake up with a splitting migraine tomorrow. My boyfriend is drunk out of his mind, and between you and me, even when he’s not, he’s an absolute idiot. Neither of us came to fight you. We just wanna take him home, put him to bed, and then possibly ground him for the rest of his life after he wakes up and has nothing but Advil for breakfast tomorrow. What do you say, baby, can you let us off scott-free just this once?” he winks, hoping that seals the deal, and either it works or the man just doesn’t care enough, because he rolls his eyes, breaking free of Rosé’s touch and climbing back into his seat with a huff.

“Whatever, man. Just get his drunk ass home.”

Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to be a satisfactory answer for Mik, who finally breaks free from Kandy, surging forward and pointing towards the man.

“Hey, asshole! This isn’t over, I’m gonna--”

Before he can finish, though, Rosé picks the younger boy up and tosses him over his shoulder without another word, ignoring the kicking and screaming and tossing one last apologetic smile and wink to the man before following Denali back through the crowd and out of the club.

The ride home is tense, Denali having to turn up the radio all the way to keep himself awake at the wheel while Rosé attempts to keep a singing Mik from unbuckling his seatbelt to climb up front. Thank God the club isn’t too far from their apartment; by the time they’ve parked, Mik isn’t even singing the same songs as the radio anymore, and the not-so-dulcet screeches aren’t exactly music to Rosé’s ears, especially not this late, when he’s this annoyed.

“Can you just please, please be quiet?” he growls as he unbuckles the younger man, scooping him up again to carry him towards the building’s door. There’s no real need for the request, though; because the minute they reach the elevator, Rosé realizes with a jolt that Mik has gone completely quiet.

“Is he asleep or dead?” Denali peers over as Rosé looks down at the man in his arms, genuinely wondering the same. But then Mik lets out a quiet snore, and both Rosé and Denali breathe out a sigh of relief.

Good; it means tomorrow they’ll be able to kill him themselves.

—

It’s almost eleven o’clock the next morning when Mik finally trudges out of bed, squinting and frowning against the sunlight that trickles in through the kitchen window.

“Well, if it isn’t sleeping ugly,” Rosé teases, grinning in petty delight when Mik doesn’t respond, only flips him off before collapsing into the seat beside him at the table. “Feeling good after last night?”

“I legitimately feel like I’m going to die.” Mik groans, putting his head down on the table in front of him.

“Here, have some water instead.” Denali suggests kindly, coming around the kitchen counter to put down a large glass full of ice water in front of the younger man, followed by an extra-strength Advil and extra-strength Tylenol tucked in a napkin. Mik takes them both in one big swig, gulping down the water like he’s found a stream in the desert and not stopping until the glass is empty save for the few cubes he hasn’t sucked into his mouth to crunch on.

“Was I really that drunk?” Mik asks, wincing at the tiny thump the glass makes as he sets it back down on the table. “‘Cause honestly, you guys, I don’t remember any of it, but I don’t usually get this hungover--”

“When we came to pick you up, a dude the size of Everest was about to pound your ass into the ground, and not in the good way, so yes, you really were that drunk.” Rosé snorts, and he has to admit, it’s kind of satisfying to see Mik’s eyes bug out of his head when he realizes the trouble he’d caused, the danger he’d put himself--and, by extension, Rosé, Denali, and Kandy--in.

“Holy shit,” he starts, “Guys, I’m—“

“We know,” Denali ruffles Mik’s hair before walking back into the kitchen, opening the fridge and scanning its contents, “It’s okay.”

“As long as you’re safe.” Rosé affirms, and as much as he wants to keep being bitter, he means it—he really would take a thousand sleepless nights for the man sitting beside him.

“Thanks for understanding.” Mik sighs out in relief, leaning back in his chair.

In the kitchen, Denali begins to take food out of the fridge, placing coconut oil, flour, and vegan bacon on the counter, and Rosé can’t help but roll his eyes and smile when he sees Mik eye the ingredients hungrily.

“Tell you what, baby, how bout you go back to sleep, and we’ll call you when breakfast is ready, ‘kay?”

Mik just nods, licking his lips, before standing up and beginning to head back towards the bedroom. He stops, though, when he hears Rosé’s voice piping up one more time.

“Oh, and Kade?” Rosé’s petty streak comes back just a little when Mik freezes at hearing his real name, satisfaction tickling at Rosé’s chest when Mik turns around to face him again, swallowing hard.

“Yeah?”

“You ever pull that shit again, Kandy’s stuffing your ass in an Uber and you’re sleeping on the couch.”

#rpdr fanfiction #gottmik #denali foxx #rosé #denali x gottmik x rosé #canon compliant #sluff #poly #s13 #writworm42

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maxwell-grant · 3 years

Note

Thoughts on the Shadow's Doppelganger, Lamont Cranston

The funny thing about Cranston in the original stories is that, yeah, one of the most famous scenes across all Shadow media is the “Lamont Cranston Talks to Himself” chapter in The Shadow Laughs, where we learn that The Shadow is not Lamont Cranston, but has usurped his identity, and now shows up at his bedside looking like him, talking like him, knowing more about his own life than he himself does, and ordering him to leave town, effectively blackmailing him into letting him use his face. It’s a very iconic scene that exemplifies a lot of what makes The Shadow unique as a character, and you can imagine why so many adaptations have gone with the idea of Cranston being either a hapless stooge bullied into submission, or an actual villain, because that whole scene is very much a horror movie scenario.

Thing is, none of them seem to remember how Cranston and The Shadow’s relationship developed past this. I’ll post this excerpt from Atoms of Death:

"Good morning, Cranston," came a quiet tone from the foot of the bed.

"Good morning, yourself," returned Cranston, rubbing his eyes without noticing the visitor.

"You should say: Good morning, myself," chuckled The Shadow, dryly.

Cranston was pulling down the sleeves of his pajama jacket. He sat bolt upright, staring. Then a slow smile showed on his lips; one that was almost a replica of The Shadow's.

"So it's you," remarked Cranston, sleepily. "Well, I knew that last night. It was about time we crossed paths again. Well, old man, you landed me in for plenty this trip."

Cranston shoved bedclothes aside and perched on the edge of the bed. He found cigarettes on the telephone table; The Shadow supplied a flame from a lighter before Cranston could ignite a match. The millionaire noted that The Shadow's lighter bore the initials "L. C."

"You handle every detail, don't you?" questioned Cranston in admiration. “Jove! I remember the first time I met you. In this very room. You dropped cloak and hat and left me looking at my own face as plainly as if I had seen it in a mirror. Just as it is today."

"And I advised you," recalled The Shadow, in Cranston's own tone, "to take a trip abroad, while I used your identity. You were a bit exasperated at first."

"I must admit that I was. I threatened to have you arrested, as an impostor, until you proved that you knew more about my affairs than I did. I really believe that if it had come to a showdown, I would have been proven the impostor and you the genuine Lamont Cranston. Jove!"

"Jove," repeated The Shadow, quietly, "You have acquired that expression recently, Cranston. I shall remember it for future reference. You have a penchant for acquiring anglicisms during your sojourns in British colonies. Jove!"

"Bounder and blighter," laughed Cranston. "Don't forget those. I still use them occasionally."

Or this excerpt from The Hydra, which is an incredible book where the chemistry between the two really shines:

Lamont Cranston woke up and wondered why his head still whirled. It took him about half a minute to learn that the motion came from the fact he was riding in his limousine. Someone must have put him back in the limousine and Stanley was driving him home.

He didn't have to guess who had helped him on his way, for at that moment Cranston heard a low-toned laugh beside him. He turned to see the black-cloaked figure of The Shadow.

"What did you hit me with?" asked Cranston. "All four of your automatics?"

"I'm only carrying a pair tonight," replied The Shadow

Look at these two dorks, just palling around and getting into shenanigans and The Shadow outright joking around Cranston, like they are just two old chums having a laugh at the weirdness of their lives. The “real” Cranston didn’t show up very often in the original stories, especially in the last stories when Lamont Cranston essentially became the real identity of The Shadow, but when he did, part of what makes him stand out as his own character is that he’s funny. Gibson gets a lot of mileage out of Cranston as this guy who is completely nonchalant and chill about all the weird shit that happens to him, even in The Hydra after he kills a man with an elephant gun, he’s still more or less the same, he largely just walks out of it with a newfound realization.

Relieving Cranston of the elephant gun, The Shadow steered his friend into the closet. Hauling the big weapon with him, The Shadow opened the door to meet and dismiss arriving servants who had dashed upstairs when they felt the house quake.

"Whenever I see this gun," began Cranston, coming from the closet, "I'll remember what I did with it -"

“Quite right," interposed The Shadow approvingly. "What you did to Mance will make amends for any elephants you may have killed. Too bad Mance didn't bring along a few more Hydra Heads.”

Slowly, understanding dawned on Cranston. He'd never compared his big-game hunts with The Shadow's quests for men of crime. He felt that The Shadow's cause was justified, but it had seemed outside the field of sport. It still was, but Cranston, now that he had dealt with a murderer who deserved to die, was realizing that his game hunts were more deserving of rebuke.

His encounters with The Shadow gradually changed Cranston from a useless millionaire wasting his resources and talents on idle pursuits, to...still largely a useless millionaire, except his resources and talents are no longer wasted and he’s gradually grown into a useful ally and friend to The Shadow. The Shadow tends to have that effect on people who work by his side and even Cranston, the guy whose main role in his organization is to just stay away and be useless somewhere else, can’t help but change a little into a better person when he appears.

There’s an interesting article written by Bob Sampson called “The Third Shadow” which refers to the Bruce Elliot run of The Shadow Magazine, which is incredibly maligned by fans and not without reason, the stories all largely suck and the Shadow bears little resemblance to his former self, instead mostly feeling like a diet take on the radio show Lamont, more of an average detective. The theory Sampson puts out is that, during this period, it was actually Lamont Cranston who became active as The Shadow while Allard was busy overseas, and I definitely like this theory. It makes sense specially considering The Hydra sets up for Cranston to become more pro-active and serious:

While not the towering master-mind of Allard, he does become the next best thing: A post-war sleuth. He even indulges in wearing the cloak and slouch hat from time to time (to varying degrees of effectiveness), while trying to laugh like Allard (also to varying degrees of effectiveness) as if to fulfill that forbidden fantasy until he finally gets it out of his system. After all, The Shadow pretended to be him, why not the other way around?

As Bob Sampson put it: “It is always Cranston who explains all and takes the credit”.

Probably very cathartic for Lamont, who for the last 18 years was relegated to being a distant supporting player in his own life. Cranston is still in contact with the agents however. He even receives "assignments" from Burbank.

This entire arrangement could only be with The Shadow's tacit approval. Let us remember, Cranston was not merely some insipid fop. He certainly had done his own share of exploring and was indeed a hunter. He could handle a variety of firearms, was familiar with exotic peoples and their customs, knew how to stalk dangerous animals through the jungle and veldt, but he was not, nor ever claimed to be, a master secret-agent and soldier.

I think it is fitting that the writing is completely different for this period as well. Not the enigmatic journalistic style of Allards exploits, but the witty, modern champagne fizz of Cranston's odyssey in a Post-War world. He feels a full range of emotions. In the Gibson stories, The Shadow is at arms length. In the Elliott stories, Cranston is sitting right next to you on a train or an airplane or roadster.

It’s also interesting to consider how Lamont Cranston has basically become the true name of The Shadow in pop culture. Often times it’s the name people use when they specifically want to reference The Shadow, the supposed “Ghost of Gay Street” hauntings in Gibson’s former apartment took the form of Lamont Cranston, and even in the stories, more and more people became aware of it as the years went by (which also helps reinforce the idea that the “real” Cranston eventually took to acting as a fill-in for The Shadow, to draw attention away from the real Shadow’s operations), and Gibson even mentioned a few times that Cranston was The Shadow’s “favorite” identity along with Arnaud. Which is kinda fascinating to think about and does hint at some weird underlying aspects of The Shadow’s psyche, that his favorite identity is one not his own.

And at last, there’s these passages from The Whispering Eyes, a book that does not mention Allard once, and the very last Shadow novel:

From beneath the seat he was taking his black garb. Cloaked and hatted as he stepped from the cab, Cranston merged immediately with the darkness. He had become The Shadow.

Cranston's switch to his other self could well be attributed to a hypnotic mood. The mental lapses produced through hypnosis were the sort that would often cause a subject to revert to habit. Now, as The Shadow, Cranston was still in what might be termed a haphazard mood. He was skirting through darkness, pausing, changing direction, behaving generally as though avoiding something that did not exist.

Lang had flung away his glasses; his eyes now showed the shining, hypnotic force that the lenses normally softened. He recognized the eyes that met his above a leveled gun muzzle.

The Shadow's eyes, yet strangely Cranston's, for this was one time The Shadow did not care to disguise them.

Which begs the question: Did Cranston succeed in fully becoming The Shadow? Or did The Shadow succeed in fully becoming Cranston?

#replies tag #pulp heroes #pulp fiction #the shadow #lamont cranston

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 4 years

Note

Just curious, do you think the writers were aware that they were putting more favor towards Vi? I've heard Kent say that they're balanced but I don't think they are...

So this is something that gets brought up a lot and we’ve had many discussions about the whole “The Louis and Violet routes are unbalanced” thing, but there’s something I’ve concluded from my latest playthrough of the entire series. The whole Louis/Violet thing isn’t the first instance of routes being unbalanced and the devs potentially not realizing it. And to give credit where credit is due, Louis and Violet are the best handled in the series as far as routes go.

Like, a lot of the things that we point at and go “Hey, that’s not balanced” are usually more minor or even nitpicky. Not all of them, because there are some bigger, more obvious instances that make you question what the intent was and if they really didn’t see how it was affecting this balance.

Y’know... like having Violet take over as the leader and imply that she and Clementine spent two weeks working together while Clementine and Louis barely spoke, yet expecting players to look at that and go “Oh yeah, that’s balanced. Makes sense.”

Or my favorite... the cell scenes. Y’know, the part of episode three where you can possibly get the heartbreaking horror of Louis having his tongue cut out that is such a well-executed scene, or you can get the most garbage scene in the entire game that is Violet’s cell scene. Hmmm.

But again, to be fair, other than the glaring examples, you can work around the different elements and find balance.

The thing that I’ve found interesting, though, is that this series has a history of doing this, of having unbalanced routes and we kind of tend to overlook them because we’re focused on Louis and Violet. When you look at each season, it’s almost inevitable that they’d continue this trend, but they did do much better this time around comparatively. Telltale has always had this issue with balance when it comes to picking between two characters.

Ever since S1 with Carley and Doug because yeah, according to the commentaries, they thought that they did such a good job making Carley and Doug equal aaaaand... No.

Haha, sorry but no. I’m actually baffled that they thought they gave Doug as much as they gave Carley in ep1.

Fun fact- Doug is the only person in ep1 of S1 that you can’t give a candy bar to when in the drugstore. You can give a candy bar to everyone/every little group [Lilly/Larry, Carley, Clementine, Kenny/Katjaa/Duck] and even offer Glenn one, but not Doug. He’s the only one you can’t even offer a candy bar to.

At a glance, that’s a very small, pointless detail. Like, oh Doug doesn’t get a candy bar, but who cares? Nitpicky like I was saying before, but... it kinda says something, y’know?

If I’m supposed to care about Doug and Carley to the point where I’m conflicted on who to save, then why let me feed Carley but not Doug. It’s a minor detail that makes Carley appear more important, like Lee cares about feeding her but not Doug due to not having the option.

Not only that, but you get to talk to Carley way more, mess around with her radio, and learn more about her backstory. She knows about Lee’s past. You take her with you to go save Glenn. You can give her a fucking candy bar.

With Doug you get to go outside and learn very little about him before killing your walker brother and that’s about it. There’s no deeper connection, there’s nothing to imply that he’ll be important to Lee if he’s saved, and while they try to show that he’s great with tech and that kind of stuff, it’s heavily overshadowed by Carley’s use of a gun.

I remember when that episode came out and those percentages were like... 70/30, and that’s what made the writers go “......Oh.”

The only reason they’re as equally picked as they are now is because they backtracked outside of the game [another common thing they do] like “Hey, wait, no! #SaveDoug! Doug’s based on a real person! Please go back and give Doug a chance! He’s really cool! Please!” and people listened. And guess what? Doug’s great, you just failed to show how great he is when it was most important. Oops.

And hey, on top of that, you have the opportunity to come forward and tell the group about Lee’s past if you save Carley. You don’t get that choice with Doug, and a lot of people see that as a downside in picking Doug, myself included.

But the developers themselves said they thought they did a good job of showing off how useful Doug is and how equal he is to Carley and... well, I beg to differ.

Then in s2 we have Kenny vs Jane, which isn’t great. In fact, it’s terrible. And it doesn’t help that ANF pretty much said “Kenny was the right choice” after giving Jane the character assassination treatment and punishing Clementine for going alone by having her lose a finger. And Wellington? Might as well not exist.

And speaking of ANF... you can’t look at me and say that the writers didn’t try and push you into Kate at every possible chance. The writers want you to be with Kate and it feels like they didn’t consider that there’d be a lot of people who don’t want to be in a romantic relationship with their sister-in-law... because she’s married to Javi’s brother... y’know?

It does feel like the game punishes you when you don’t want to romance Kate. She’s really pissy about it, David still gets pissy himself, and even if you save Kate in the end, she wants nothing to do with you so you don’t even get to make amends with her- you lose even more of your family by not romancing her. And you’re gonna tell me that’s balanced? Because it’s not.

So when we get to TFS... it’s not that surprising that they’d do it again, but you’d think that they’d take more notice of it and learn from past games... but hey, maybe they did just a bit and that’s why Louis and Violet are better. Not perfect, but better.

Louis and Violet are both likable, valid options for Clementine, and no matter what you do or think, she cares about both of them and finds them attractive, it’s just up to you as the player to pick who you’re more drawn to.

And the thing is, I don’t know if they are actually aware of the imbalance because they consistently try to reassure everyone that it is balanced... it could go either way- they truly believe it is and don’t get where the players are coming from because they have a different understanding having been the ones to create the game, or they are aware but won’t outright admit to it being as such for a number of reasons.

#asks #twdg clementine #twdg louis #twdg violet #twdg carley #twdg doug #twdg kenny #twdg jane #twdg javi #twdg kate #twdg clouis #twdg violentine #twdg lee

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dontasktheradiodemon · 4 years

Text

Reading Area #1 (1/18/2021)

Click here if you’re like “What the heck is this about?”

Valera @autokrates joins Kyxs @usedhearts while reading in the library and pulls out some tea. They hang out and chat about, among other things, Kyxs's death, magic, weird inhuman reproduction, and alien/infernal politics.

Kyxs

Books always attracted him, like a fly to honey, and so it's no wonder that he finally ends up in the library. Most of the volumes on the shelves, he couldn't even read the titles of, but he'd found a nice sci-fi novel in a shelf and sat down with that, just casually flipping through it and skimming.

Valera

Hope Kyxs didn't think he'd get alone time, even in an estate big enough to get lost in. Here comes Valera, a leather bound alien text shoved under one arm, the other holding an oversized mug of tea. To their credit, they offer a little murbling trill in greeting before taking a seat across the way from him in a piled up coil of tail and armchair cushions hidden under a throw blanket. Ohoho, this fish is ready to get COZY.

Kyxs

He looked up with a blink when she entered, but smiled her way. He slowly shut his book and held it in his lap.

"Hey, Val, haven't had a chance to see you yet, nor a chance to thank you for inviting me along. This--" He gestured around them. "Is way better than being in a bunker waiting things out. I'm having a blast."

Valera

"So I can imagine!" They grin, then cock their head to the side and rearrange themselves so they can lean in to get a closer look at their guest.

"Extermination day is your..." Ahem. "*Death Day,* right?" They sound it out carefully, a clear division between two words that didn't belong together in their mind. "Happy Death Day, Kyxs. I hope you've been able to enjoy this one more than the last."

Kyxs

He chuckled, giving a nod. "It is, and thanks. Yeah, usually I have a drink of whiskey with Alastor and listen to the radio waves through the extermination and that's all. Having mixed drinks with my boyfriend and hanging out on a beach side island mansion? Maaaajor upgrade."

Kyxs laughed a little more. "So, still weird to know that we're all dead humans, huh?"

Valera

"Very." They snort, turning to put their tea on the end table next to their chair. "I've seen plenty of humans die, but not as many start walking and talking in new form right afterwards."

They tap the edge of their book, humming as they watch him. "I'm glad I could provide a change of pace for you and yours. I almost didn't offer! I thought it might be too forward with how little we actually know each other, and I'm a TERRIBLE judge on how humans or ex-humans will respond to... Anything, honestly."

Kyxs

"Well, I'm glad you did." He shrugged a bit, leaning his elbow on the arm of his chair.

"Y'know what the worst part of arriving in Hell is? The drop. One minute, you're dying peacefully, and then next--" They lift a hand, making a motion with a finger like something falling. A cartoon sound effect of falling and then a comedic smacking sound play on the air. It's as smooch as any Alastor's effects, but it's clear he's been practicing with the noises.

"You're falling and splatting on the ground. I had the unlucky fortune to do that a few scant minutes before the Extermination kicked off for that year, and as jarring as it is to just fall in, falling in on Extermination day is worse."

Valera

A frown. "I'm surprised you survived. Well, I mean.." A dip of the head. "You *didn't*, obviously. But you didn't *double* die. How did

freshly fallen sinner not immediately get exterminated? You'd have been a walking target!"

Kyxs

"Simple: Alastor. He was waiting for me when I dropped in, immediately got me up and rushed me to a bunker. Didn't even ask anything of me until after the Extermination." He shrugged a bit.

"Without him, I'd have been double dead for sure."

Valera

"Ah. Must have been a fan of your work." They're just going to take a sip of their tea, don't mind them. They know you, sad radio boy.

Kyxs

His mouth snapped shut, but his expression is a familiar static smile. Kyxs takes a moment to blink and then take a breath, relaxing. He just had to remind himself that they were an alien, maybe they wouldn't judge him like other humans would?

"....Yeah. He was. He followed me, listening in via the radios around me, watching what I was doing. Said he liked my style, but that I could have more flair, more power. Offered to teach me, if I worked for him in exchange. I took the deal." He tries his best to act casual, but his next shrug is a little too stiff.

Valera

They watch him stiffen up, and roll their eyes at his carefully manufactured casual mannerisms. "Here's a little tip from your local theater major, kid. Alastor can get away with the stiffly smiling puppet man act because that's how he *always* is. If you flip the switch on suddenly, everyone is going to notice and be on edge."

Ssssip. Mm, good tea. "Anyway. Making a Deal with Alastor was stupid, obviously, but I'm glad it's working out."

Kyxs

He sighed. "I know, I'm working on it. I only have high school theater to rely on." He laughed, crossing his legs.

"Eh, not as stupid as some people might think. Alastor's actually reasonable, mostly. If he respects you, which I was fortunate enough to earn by my actions in life. He'll give you good terms then, but if you're an idiot and act like one around him, well..." He trailed off and shrugged.

Valera

"Earning his respect doesn't seem that hard... Unless you also want him to fear you just a bit." They grin, all teeth.

"Not that I'd know. I have *no* idea if any Alastors out there respect me. But I do have things they want, and that's good enough. The only ones I make deals with are the ones I know have a vested interest in my survival."

Kyxs

"I don't know about that, there's not much Alastor fears." He took a breath, his hand playing with the pages of the shut book on his lap.

"Which ones are vested in your survival? Or are you not allowed to say?"

Valera

"I disagree MOST heartily, dear boy! There's plenty he fears. But if you haven't figured out what yet, I'm certainly not going to tell you and ruin his fun!" They crack their book open, setting it in their lap as they tug the throw up over their shoulders. Hoohoo cozy time.

"I could tell you specifics, but I wouldn't benefit from you knowing. Suffice to say, the ones that like going to Earth for visits or ingredients make an effort to keep in my good graces. Free rides are hard to come by."

Kyxs

He nodded. "True, I don't know much about what other Alastors fear, only the one I know. Who can say which ones of them have the same fears?"

He leaned over, tilting his head to try and get a peek at her book. "What're you reading?"

Valera

A few seconds of watching him crane his neck, and they obligingly turn the book sideways so he can see text he absolutely can't understand. It was reflex, don't question it too much.

"This? Nothing special, really. It's a book on chronomancy, time manipulation and the like. This one is about creating pockets of reality where time is dilated. Not terribly useful to me, but I like to study the basics of anything I can."

Kyxs

She was right, he could't read it, but he enjoyed being able to see the script, it looked nice. That explination flew over his head, though, and he blinked. "Soooo, time travel? What's.....time dilation?"

Valera

"Time dilation is.." They pull the book back, brows furrowing. "To simplify it to an absurd degree, time dilation is where time slows down. So this teaches you the theory behind creating pockets of space where time slows to a crawl relative to the world outside of it."

Kyxs

"Think I read a fantasy western where someone could do that. Had to burn a metal with Allomancy to do it, though." He chuckled. "But that's....neat? Is that something you can do?"

Valera

"Oh yeah, totally." They toss the book at Kyxs, watching as it freezes in midair, then seems to fall in slow motion.

"I already learned how to break this kind of magic at its zenith, but I did it with brute force. I'm studying the theory to learn how to pick it apart instead of just smashing it with a metaphorical hammer. Because eventually I wont be able to just" here they whip out the airquotes, voice turning exasperated "'orbital drop kick' my way to victory."

Kyxs

Kyxs blinked as the book froze and watched as it kept slowly moving towards him.

"Orbital drop kick, huh? So you got a lot of raw power but no finesse?"

Valera

"Oh, uh. Yeah." They roll their eyes, reaching out to pluck the book from the air before it went too far.

"I ruin a lot of things, losing control of spells. There's actually a spot in one of my off planet estates that infinitely spawns chickens because I overcharged one part of a time weave." A pause. "So if you're ever hungry, paradox chicken is cheap."

Kyxs

Kyxs blinked again, and then laughed, putting his face in his hand. "Paradox chicken?"

He lifted his head and, still giggling, continued. "So, is it just a planet of chickens now, or do they disappear after a while?"

Valera

They snort, waving a hand dismissively as they settle back into their coils. "I put a portal underneath the point that whisks them away to a processing facility. But it sure LOOKED like it was going to turn into a chicken planet for a while there. I didn't exactly have a response plan ready for *an endless flood of chickens*."

Kyxs

"Endless chickens. You could solve world hunger-- or actually, ALL worlds hunger." He laughed again.

"Okay, what else have you fucked up magically?" He looks legitimately excited by this.

Valera

They sniff. "Oh you want to hear about all my FAILURES huh? Not my dazzling successes? I broke an entire MOON out of a time freeze you know!"

A moment, and then they drop the act, grinning again. "Veci learn to channel our magic through boards carved with symbols. They're rigidly designed and have a bunch of redundancies to keep dumbass kids from hurting themselves. They do all sorts of things, and ONLY those things. So I, of course, wired a bunch of them together and powered them all at once."

A long sigh. "Long story short, the whole kit and kaboodle went flying off into low orbit and is probably still going."

Kyxs

Kyxs laughed, harder this time. "Oh my god! Just bam, zoom! Off it goes! That's incredible."

He sighed and wiped at his eye. "Reminds me of when Alastor started teaching me magic-- nearly broke every piece of radio equipment I touched."

Valera

His host watches him, fins twitching as they hold their mug of tea in cupped hands. "Aw, hatchling's growing pains. I assume you've gotten better control since then?"

Kyxs

"Oh yeah, a lot better. I still don't have the simple finesse and control that Alastor does, but I'm also not a full fledged radio demon yet." He shrugged.

"I still have to concentrate for stuff that comes naturally to Alastor." To prove his point, an audience gave sporadic clapping after he spoke and he sighed.

"Like that. Still need to whip my audience into shape."

Valera

"So I've heard! You don't inspire the same fear, but you also didn't exactly spring into Hell fully formed and blasting Overlords with unfathomable power. Or whatever. I wasn't there for it, I'm sure his manifestation was greatly exaggerated."

Kyxs

Kyxs rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged a bit. "I dunno, I've looked into it, quite a bit, and most reports are shockingly accurate from what I can tell. Alastor doesn't like to talk about the specifics a lot, though. But he did kill just...a whole fuckton of sinners."

Valera

They shrug. "Sinners die all the time. But we're focusing on you here. Do you MIND that people aren't as afraid of you?"

Kyxs

"Not really? Like everyone's _so_ afraid of Alastor that he can't do much of anything without people running in terror. I can go places and do things on his behalf and even then people won't just up and run because of my mere presence. Being feared to that extent's gotta be tiring." He shrugs back.

Valera

Sip-- Oh, they're out of tea. Ah well. "Speaking from experience? Exhausting. Especially for someone who was previous used to being well liked. You should feel bad for him, but only a little. He did choose to do all that murder after all."

Kyxs

His head tilted, looking curious. "People feared you? Like they do Alastor? But....you're so nice?" His bright green eyes squinted.

"Though considering you can make a chicken paradox, I guess getting on your bad side is a bad idea."

Valera

Well, if he's going to say his piece.. They carefully set the empty mug aside, face blandly neutral as they speak.

"I was thrust into power at twenty years of age, unprepared and terrified. When people attacked me, I responded in turn. When their families protested, I held public executions, to prove a point. A plot of treason? I strung their bodies up for everyone to see!"

A shrug. "Once people see you pull the trigger on an entire city in response to something they did, they realize what they're trying to fight against only gets worse every time they try to put it down."

Kyxs

"Oh geez." Their eyes widen with each word and they look away, elbows on their knees and hands covering their mouth.

After Valera was done, they were quiet a moment. "Yeah, that'd do it," They muttered.

Kyxs sat back up, leaning back in their chair, arms crossing over their stomach. "I killed my father and brother. They were both my first victims. And then I went off and killed a lot of other people. Not a whole city's worth, but for one person just on their own? I killed a lot."

They shrugged. "I keep that under wraps for most of Hell, on Alastor's advice. Thought since you shared...." They shrugged.

Valera

What a strange heart to heart this is. They'd hesitate to call Kyxs anything more than a maybe-friend, but.. He tries. They offer a smile, one side crooked higher than the other.

"Weird that he'd tell you to keep a few murders under wraps, considering the circumstances! But I'm sure he had his reasons. Maybe keeping your victims from deciding to settle the score personally."

A beat. "Oh. I haven't done a widespread cull since I hit thirty, so don't... worry? I guess? I made a deal; ten years of compassion after ten years of cruelty. Six in now, and people have gotten comfortable enough to insult me to my face."

Kyxs

"I think it's less about the murders themselves and more me being a serial killer and all the media coverage I had before I died. Some people in Hell go real hard for true crime shit and have no qualms about stalking you." He laughed softly.

Kyxs's head titled, curious. "What happens when the ten years are up? Will you go back to doing stuff like that or do you think your decade of compassion's changed you enough to not do it again?"

Valera

"Figures, even in Hell where killers are in spitting distance on any given street corner, the big names still get creepy fans. Ever had people ring into the station over you yet?"

The question catches their attention, eyes alight with mischief. "I'd started to find the devotion to compassion rather boring, but then it lead me to Pentious. I _like_ being attentive with him. Making him happy makes _me_ happy. It's pleasant! And weird!"

They magic up fresh tea, offering a duplicate mug to Kyxs. "In four years time, I'll likely have young children to worry about. Another thing I never expected. So.. The best answer I can give is.. I don't know! This year alone has upset my status quo immensely."

Kyxs

He laughed, shaking his head. "No, thankfully. It helps that Kyxs isn't the name I went by when I was up top. I _do_ get people calling in thirsty as fuck for Alastor, though. In a variety of ways."

Kyxs shuddered a bit, and then grinned.

"Oh yeah, love can do that. Having someone to share things with is just really nice. Whether it's a friend or a significant other, it's really nice just being around people you like and care about."

He blinked and tilted his head. "Kids? With....Pentious? I thought sinners were sterile?"

Valera

"You are." They go back to cupping their drink. Time for more explaining! "Veci can reproduce with anything that has a soul. Sinners like you and Pentious ARE souls, condemned to Hell for your sins in life."

A pleased hum.. And then they snort. "Before you ask, yes I'm sure it works, and I've got the embarrassing story about Alastor being my midwife to prove it."

Kyxs

He blinks again at that and finally takes a sip of the tea she'd given him.

"Ah, hm, I don't think I want to hear that story yet. I don't think I'm mentally prepared." He chuckled. "But that's really interesting. Is it cause your people are so much more magically inclined?"

Valera

"You will never be mentally prepared. And if you ever are, you'll have better luck asking Angel. He was there too." A dainty wrist to their forehead, and they sigh dramatically. "My BEAUTIFUL spusband, my knight in SHINING armor.."

But no, Kyxs was NOT ready to hear the story, and Valera was not about to share it. Instead they grin over their tea, mischief in their eyes. "To answer your question. Yes and no. We're very magically inclined, but we're also genetically all over the place, compared to humans. For example, I bet you had two genetic donors, both normal husband, and you came out looking like either of them. "

Kyxs

Another rapid set of blinks. This converstation really was getting a lot of those out of him. "Angel was there?" He grinned at her display. "Well, that explains everything, he's definitely a knight in shinning armor."

He nods, very seriously, yes absolutely, knight in shinning armor.

"Yeah, that's pretty much how humans do it. Two parents, both equal in indignity." He snorted into his tea as he took another sip.

Valera

Oh no, there they go back into their dramatic swoon. "Of course Angel was there! He was the one whisking me away once things started happening, the one right by my side through thick and thin!"

And cue another sigh, flowery as you please. Then they snap back to normal, chinhanding at Kyxs. "I've got seven parents. All genetically related to me. Though the indignity stands, anyone who thinks reproduction is beautiful is wrong, and worse, they're stupid."

Kyxs

More blinking! His eyelids are going to get tired at this rate. "Seven? If it's not too weird to ask, how?? I only know about human biology, so forgive the ignorance."

He was trying very hard to not giggle as he took yet another sip of tea.

Valera

Kyxs' eyelids were going to be so buff by the time this was over. "Well, in MY case the genes were harvested and then patched together in a controlled environment. Yes, that's right darling... I'm DESIGNER." Hairflip. Anyway.

"But it CAN happen naturally. The optimum mating period is fairly generous, as long as there's enough.. traits.. mixed in there by the time the shop closes, the results can be any mix of the parents... Or you just do it magically. We've got spells to avoid the sexual part of reproduction entirely. Options are out there, suffice to say."

Kyxs

He gives a BIG laugh at the hairflip. That was a good one, tickled his funnybone something good.

"I see. That's really cool. So like, anyone can have a kid if they want, I guess the opposite is true too? Like there's probably magical contraception and all that?"

Valera

Good, they live to entertain!

"Of course! I just use the standard non magical medical solutions. Keeps me from having weird magic interactions!"

Kyxs

Kyxs laughed again. "Oh God what kind of weird magical reactions can they cause?"

Valera

"I mean, I laid three eggs. So failure is a common one." They roll their eyes. "No, I know what you want. Sometimes you change colors if your contraceptive doesn't mesh well with your magic. Or you can turn sparkly."

Kyxs

"_Sparkly?_" Their eyes get real big for a moment there. "Man, I want weird magical reactions that turn people sparkly to exist in Hell that sounds funny as fuck."

They laughed and set their empty cup aside. "I take it yours meshes, though-- or are you normally blue?" Kyxs smirked.

Valera

"I hatched *red,* actually." They flutter their lashes... Then snort and shake their head. "That's true, but misleading. Veci change colors as they grow up fairly frequently, nothing to do with contraceptives. No, I use regular old injections, good for six months at a time. Though my old magical one would sometimes make my horns get blue speckles. As far as side effects, it was pretty harmless!"

Now it's their turn to lean in, eyebrow raising. "You've asked *me* a bunch of questions, but what about you? Any magical contraceptives on your side of things, Kyxs?"

Kyxs

Oh, the blinking time is back, that's good. He laughed after, shaking his head.

"Oh, no, not that I know of. Sinners being sterile and all there's no real need for injections? I don't know what's up with the Hellborns though, so maybe they got some." He shrugged.

Valera

"Oh, boo. Though the idea of Hellborns making minor contracts with...." They trail off, leaning back in their seat.

"Oh my gods. Do they make deals with Stolas? No, no... Unless they were trading for information on contraceptive *herbs*. No, they'd go to Gaap, probably? He's the prince who rules over that sort of thing, if my memory serves. I haven't brushed up on my knowledge of demons in *years*." Plus Gaap was the one that Alastor had called on for them.. They should send a gift basket.

Kyxs

"I've been lacking in my demon studies, honestly. I know about Prince Stolas, but Gaap's not familiar to me? Is he a Duke or...?" He trailed off, shifting to tuck his feet under him on the chair.

Valera

"He's a prince, same as Stolas. Though, that's assuming your Hell works the same as some of the others I've been to. I'd honestly suggest you do your own research when you get home, if possible. Though if you want, I could ask Stolas when I see him on our coffee date." They shuffle deeper into their blankets.

"Do you want a refill on the tea, or is that enough for you?"

Kyxs

"Oh! Yeah a refill would be nice." He picked up his empty cup to hand over.

"Yeah I should. I need to be in the know more when it comes to Hellborns rather than just sinner Overlords."

Valera

A twitch of their fin, and his tea is refilled. Who needs TEAPOTS when you've got MAGIC ~~and a teapot and tea cabinet in the kitchen you can draw boiling water and leaves from~~?

"Indeed! Though, really I should as well. If I'm going to marry a man aspiring to conquer, I need to learn everything I can to help support him in his efforts. His greatest enemies, possible allies, how to manage them.. You know. Political stuff."

Kyxs

He takes a sip of the new tea. Ah yes tasty.

"Yeah, I've been putting it off a lot because of the politics. But considering I'm bound to the Radio Demon, and he's working with the Princess, maybe it's a good idea to look more into things."

Valera

"Take it from a politician. Politics are the worst and I hate them. Death to politics as we know it can't come soon enough." A heaving sigh.

"It sounds like a good idea. If you're going to help your boss, you need to know what you're doing. If I'm going to help my husband, so do I. We're together in misery!"

Kyxs

"Yay!" Kyxs gave a little fake cheer and then laughed.

"Well, as they say, misery loves company." He gave a shrug. "But you said you were planning on having coffee with Prince Stolas? Swanky." He laughed a little.

Valera

They groan, nearly vanishing into their own coils as they slowly place their book over their face. Politicsssssss....

Oh, right. Stolas. They remain exactly as they are, voice muffled but much more cheery. "We're going to meet up and swap parenting tips over iced coffee! He seems lovely, so I'm looking forward to it."

Kyxs

"That sounds so wholesome for a chat with a Prince of Hell." Kyxs couldn't help another giggle.

"Then again, Hellborns are a lot different from sinners. Who's to say they can't be wholesome?"

Valera

They wave a hand, vague and airy. "Parents operate on a higher frequency. We make eye contact and a bond is established. In that moment, we are allies in exasperation and adoration for the weird tiny people we're stuck with."

The book is brought down far enough to peek their third eye over at Kyxs, surprise tinging their voice. "You've met Charlie, haven't you? She's a total sweetheart, and about as Hellborn as it gets."

Kyxs

"Oh yeah! I have, she's really nice. I think my brain just slots her into her own category cause she's Princess." He shrugged again.

"She's very _very_ enthusiastic about things, which is really adorable. I really kinda wanna meet her parents just to see how they could've raised someone as sweet and compassionate in Hell of all places."

Valera

"You know, fair. She's certainly not like any other Hellborn out there, with that parentage." The royal baby, the little Angel of Hell. Poor Charlie.

And then her parents. Ugh. "I've heard very little about Charlotte's parents." They begin, carefully. "But I've heard nothing _good_ about them. I think Charlie's personality is her own doing."

Kyxs

"That's a fair point. I've heard things about Lucifer and Lilith, and none of it wasn't someone doing some ass kissing, sooo..." He snorted and shrugged again.

"It'd make sense if Charlie was mostly a self made Princess."

Valera

"Quite so, Kyxs." The book is finally pulled away, set on the table between them so Valera can have both hands free.

"Apologies, I didn't mean to derail the conversation. Was there anything in particular you wanted to discuss?"

Kyxs

"Oh, not really. I kinda like derailed converstations, makes it easier to go with the flow." He tilted his head.

"Alastor hasn't been any trouble has he? I mean, the one that's my boss, of course."

Valera

They stare at him, blank faced as they process his question. Alastor... Trouble... His *boss* Alastor.... Had he? Had he been trouble? Quick, brain, go evaluate a specific Alastor even though they all looked almost identical. Which one was his boss? Not Stick, right? No of course not. So that meant...

A few seconds of silence, and... "Oh! Not at all. He's lovely. A model guest. Good shot, too." Nailed it.

Kyxs

"Good shot?" His eyebrow raised and he lifted his cup for another sip of tea.

"What was he shooting?"

Valera

"Fish! We went speargun fishing together on the pier. It was very fun, he's good company." Oho, a purr from the fish, good job Alastor, wherever you are.

"I almost feel bad for worrying, all the Alastors have been behaving very well. So far."

Kyxs

"Oh never feel bad about worrying about Alastors making trouble. They'd never be rude, but I will say if they weren't your guests, they would be making a loooot more chaos than they are." He shook his head and smirked.

"Sometimes it's funny, sometimes....not so much."

Valera

They open their mouth to respond, then hesitate, tension tightening their shoulders. "Yes. Sometimes not so much is right."

... Not going to elaborate on that, Valera? No? Alright. "Well, with him at least, we managed to get along well enough with weapons in our hands! Always a good sign. Hopefully even when he isn't bound by his manners we'll muddle through, but we'll see."

Kyxs

"Well, if he didn't take a shot at you with a weapon in his hands, I'd say you're at least good in that he won't immediately kill you." He laughed again.

"I mean, not that he could? I think you'd be able to take anyone in Hell, honestly. Maybe not Lucifer himself, but you never know."

Valera

They grimace, shaking their head at the idea. "I could take Alastor in a fight, but I don't know about any Hellborn. And even if I *could* take them on, I wouldn't want to. Fighting is *stressful*."

Kyxs

He nodded and shrugged. "Fair enough, I haven't actually fought anyone else in Hell, so I don't even know what a big demon magical fight would be like."

Valera

"Oh, you haven't? Do you even know what you're truly capable of?" Now they're interested again.

"If you want to get an idea, I could always spar with one of my friends while you watched. Sparring is one thing, that's just playing."

Kyxs

"Not like, fully capable? I've gone into uhhh, my 'true' demon form a couple times but never to really fight? Or at least not anyone who was even near my level in terms of power." He used airquotes around the true part, and then shrugged.

"But I wouldn't say no to seeing some sparring, sounds fun."

Valera

"Sure! Probably not this time, but we can absolutely arrange something when less people are around to get in the crossfire."

They've abandoned the idea of reading by now, just a bundle of fish in a blanket sitting pretty.

"So, Kyxs. What do you want in Hell? You're stuck there theoretically forever, have you got a goal?"

Kyxs

They pondered that question for a bit, one clawed hand scratching at the base of one of their horns.

"Not really sure? Beyond like, doing the radio thing, learning from Alastor, and playing music, I don't have big overarching goals? I'm.... kind of content with that? Which is weird when you think about it, being content in Hell of all places but hey." They shrugged. "I'll take it."

Valera

"That might be for the best, honestly. But yeah, there's a pretty big flaw in Hell's design."

They shrug. "Humans can adapt to just about anything. That's your claim to fame. Give them eternity and they'll build civilizations, like they did on Earth, and like they did in Hell. Mediocre food? You get used to it."

Kyxs

Kyxs laughed. "Don't let Alastor hear you calling Earth food mediocre, he'll take that as a challenge."

He leaned back, tilting his head to stair up at the ceiling. "Kinda makes you wonder how Hell's supposed to be a punishment when it seems like more of the same. Maybe that _is_ the punishment? You think it's gonna be a change, but it's not. I dunno, I can't claim to know what God was thinking when he came up with it."

Valera

"Alastor can take it as a challenge, I've rarely had food from Earth that actually tasted good. It's not made for a Veci tongue to enjoy. If he thinks he can do better than all the other attempts, let him!" A snort, and then they shrug.

"I can't say much for your God, but they never struck me as the creative sort. Or as all knowing as they act. It's kind of embarrassing, like a kid who made a mess and then tries to hide it." They pause, raising an eyebrow. "Though of course, I get to say that because I'm an alien with gods I can punch in the face. Yours seems a bit loftier."

Kyxs

"Yeah, loftier." He rolled his eyes. "He's an asshole. Thought so when I was alive and still think so now. His sons aren't much better, any of em. Though," He giggles, "It does make me laugh that the family who where the biggest bible thumpers are the ones in Hell with me, the heathen, now."

Valera

Well that earns him a quizzical look. "What does that mean? What family?"

Kyxs

Kyxs winced a little and glanced away. "_My_ family. My uh brother and father. Huge Christian bible thumpers and yet," He giggled again. "They're both in Hell now too. Looks like all their hypocrisy got the best of them."

Valera

They scrunch their face like they just sucked a lemon, sinking further into their blanket. "Gods, I forget that people having families is *normal*. Sounds like yours wasn't great though. I take it you were responsible for their surprise entrances to Hell?"

Kyxs

"Yeah. Said earlier that I killed em, but yeah. Knife to the neck for dear old dad and just a bunch of stabs to the chest for big brother." His face also scrunched. "Really had hoped that they'd been exterminated."

Valera

"Well sure, but I don't know how much family you have. Had. Have?" Squint. "Either way, good riddance. Next round, just throw them into the street yourself. You want a problem solved, do it yourself and all that!"

Kyxs

"Easier said than done, I don't know where they hole up for the exterminations, and I doubt they'd let me in so that I _could_ toss them out." He shrugged. "Just have to find some other way, I guess."

Valera

Valera scoffs, pointing a finger at Kyxs. "You have a lot to learn, kid. I hope Alastor teaches you how to properly track a target by next extermination. It's all about networking with people who want to be in your good graces."

A dismissive toss of the head, and the fish rises to their feet. "Speaking of family we hate, though, I should check on my *own* brother to make sure he hasn't said anything stupid to any of my guests. I'll see you later, Kyxs."

Kyxs

"I know how to track people, they just have some...powerful friends." He sighed. When Val got up, he nodded.

"Brothers are the worst. Alright, see ya later then, Val."

He gave a little wave as she left.

#((two today because I wasn’t able to upload one yesterday))#extermination party palace #autokrates #usedhearts

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livingdeadinsideyourhead · 4 years

Text

Free Music in a Capitalist Society - Iggy Pop's Keynote Speech Transcript

Hi, I'm Iggy Pop. I've held a steady job at BBC 6 Music now for almost a year, which is a long time in my game. I always hated radio and the jerks who pushed that shit music into my tender mind, with rare exceptions. When I was a boy, I used to sit for hours suffering through the entire US radio top 40 waiting for that one song by The Beatles and the other one by The Kinks. Had there been anything like John Peel available in my Midwestern town I would have been thrilled. So it's an honor to be here. I understand that. I appreciate it.

Some months ago when the idea of this talk came up I thought it might be okay to talk about free music in a Capitalist society. So that's what I'm gonna try to talk about. A society in which the Capitalist system dominates all the others, and seeks their destruction when they get in its way. Since then, the shit has really hit the fan on the subject, thanks to U2 and Apple. I worked half of my life for free. I didn't really think about that one way or the other, until the masters of the record industry kept complaining that I wasn't making them any money. To tell you the truth, when it comes to art, money is an unimportant detail. It just happens to be a huge one unimportant detail. But, a good LP is a being, it's not a product. It has a life-force, a personality, and a history, just like you and me. It can be your friend. Try explaining that to a weasel.

As I learned when I hit 30 +, and realized I was penniless, and almost unable to get my music released, music had become an industrial art and it was the people who excelled at the industry who got to make the art. I had to sell most of my future rights to keep making records to keep going. And now, thanks to digital advances, we have a very large industry, which is laughably maybe almost entirely pirate so nobody can collect shit. Well, it was to be expected. Everybody made a lot of money reselling all of recorded musical history in CD form back in the 90s, but now the cat is out of the bag and the new electronic devices which estrange people from their morals also make it easier to steal music than to pay for it. So there's gonna be a correction.

When I started The Stooges we were organized as a group of Utopian communists. All the money was held communally and we lived together while we shared the pursuit of a radical ideal. We shared all song writing, publishing and royalty credits equally – didn’t matter who wrote it - because we'd seen it on the back of a Doors album and thought it was cool, at least I did. Yeah. I thought songwriting was about the glory, I didn't know you'd get paid for it. We practiced a total immersion to try to forge a new approach which would be something of our own. Something of lasting value. Something that was going to be revealed and created and was not yet known.

We are now in the age of the schemer and the plan is always big, big, big, but it's the nature of the technology created in the service of the various schemes that the pond, while wide, is very shallow. Nobody cares about anything too deeply expect money. Running out of it, getting it. I never sincerely wanted to be rich. There is a, in the US, we have this guy “Do you sincerely wanna be rich? You can do it!” I didn’t sincerely want to be rich. I never sincerely felt like making anyone else that way. That made me a kind of a wild card in the 60's and 70's. I got into the game because it felt good to play and it felt like being free. I'm still hearing today about how my early works with The Stooges were flops. But they're still in print and they sell 45 years later, they sell. Okay, it took 20 or 25 years for the first royalties to roll in. So sue me.

Some of us who couldn't get anywhere for years kept beating our heads against the same wall to no avail. No one did that better than my friends The Ramones. They kept putting out album after album, frustrated that they weren't getting the hit. They even tried Phil Spector and his handgun. After the first couple of records, which made a big impact, they couldn't sustain the quality, but I noticed that every album had at least one great song and I thought, wow if these guys would just stop and give it a rest, society would for sure catch up to them. And that's what's happening now, but they're not around to enjoy it. I used to run into Johnny at a little rehearsal joint in New York and he'd be in a big room all alone with a Marshall stack just going "dum, dum, dum, dum, dum" all my himself. I asked him why and he said if he didn't practice doing that exactly the way he did it live he'd lose it. He was devoted and obsessive, so were Joey and Deedee. I like that. Johnny asked me one day - Iggy don't you hate Offspring and the way they're so popular with that crap they play. That should be us, they stole it from us. I told him look, some guys are born and raised to be the captain of the football team and some guys are just gonna be James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause and that's the way it is. Not everybody is meant to be big. Not everybody big is any good.

I only ever wanted the money because it was symbolic of love and the best thing I ever did was to make a lifetime commitment to continue playing music no matter what, which is what I resolved to do at the age of 18. If who you are is who you are that is really hard to steal, and it can lead you in all sorts of useful directions when the road ahead of you is blocked and it will get blocked. Now I'm older and I need all the dough I can get. So I too am concerned about losing those lovely royalties, now that they've finally arrived, in the maze of the Internet. But I'm also diversifying my income, because a stream will dry up. I'm not here to complain about that, I'm here to survive it.

When I was starting out as a full time musician I was walking down the street one bright afternoon in the seedier part of my Midwestern college town. I passed a dive bar and from it emerged a portly balding pallid middle aged musician in a white tux with a drink in one hand and a guitar in the other. He was blinking in the daylight. I had a strong intuition that this was a fate to be avoided. He seemed cut off from society and resigned to an oblivious obscurity. A bar fly. An accessory to booze. So how do you engage society as an artist and get them to pay you? Well, that's a matter of art. And endurance.

To start with, I cannot stress enough the importance of study. I was lucky to work in a discount record store in Ann Arbor Michigan as a stock boy where I was exposed to a little bit of every form of music imaginable on record at the time. I listened to it all whether I liked it or not. Be curious. And I played in my high school orchestra and I learned the joy of the warm organic instruments working together in the service of a classical piece. That sticks with you forever. If anyone out there can get a chance to put an instrument and some knowledge in some kids hand, you've done a great, great thing.

Comparative information is a key to freedom. I found other people who were smarter than me. To teach me. My first pro band was a blues band called The Prime Movers and the leader Michael Erlewine was a very bright hippy beatnik with a beautifully organized record collection in library form of The Blues. I'd never really heard the Blues. That part of our American heritage was kept off the major media. It was system up, people down. No Big Bill Broonzy on BBC for us. Boy I wish! No money in it. But everything I learned from Michael's beautiful library became the building blocks for anything good I've done since. Guys like this are priceless. If you find one, follow him, or her. Get the knowledge.

Once in secondary school in the 60's some class clowns dressed up the tallest guy in school in a trench coat, shades and a fedora and rushed him in to a school dance with great hubbub proclaiming "Del Shannon is here, Del Shannon is here." And until they got to the stage we all believed them, because nobody knew what Del Shannon looked like. He was just a voice on some great records. He had no social ID. By the early 60's that had really changed with the invasion of The Beatles and The Stones. This time TV was added to the mix and print media too. So you knew who they were, or so you thought anyway. I'm mentioning this because the best way to survive the death or change of an industry is to transcend its form. You're better off with an identity of your own or maybe a few of them. Something special.

It is my own personal view having lived through it that in America The Beatles replaced our assassinated president Kennedy, who represented our hopes for a certain kind of society. Didn’t get there. And The Stones replaced our assassinated folk music which our own leaders suppressed for cultural, racial, and financial reasons. It wasn't okay with everybody to be Kennedy or Muddy Waters, but those messages could be accepted if they came through white entertainers from the parent culture. That's why they’re still around.

Years later I had the impression that Apple, the corporation, had successfully co-opted the good feelings that the average American felt about the culture of the Beatles, by kind of stealing the name of their company so I bought a little stock. Good move. 1992. Woo! But look, everybody is subject to the rip off and has to change affiliations from time to time. Even Superman and Barbie were German before America tempted them to come over. Tough luck, Nietzche.

So who owns what anyway. Or as Bob Dylan said "The relationships of ownership." That’s gates of Eden. Nobody knows for long, especially these days. Apparently when BBC radio was founded, the record companies in England wouldn't allow the BBC to play their master recordings because they thought no one would buy them for their personal use if they could hear them free on the radio. So they were really confused about what they had. They didn’t get it. And how people feel about music. ‘Cause it’s a feel thing, and it resists logic. It’s not binary code. Later when CD's came in, the retail merchants in American all panicked because they were just too damn tiny and they thought that Americans want something that looks big, like a vinyl record. Well they had a point but their solution was a kind of Frankenstein called "The Long Box." It didn't fool anybody because half of it was empty. It had a little CD in the bottom. You’d open it up and it was empty. Now we have people in the Sahara using GPS to bury huge wads of Euros under sand dunes for safe keeping. But GPS was created for military spying from the high ground, not radical banking so any sophisticated system, along with the bounty it brings, is subject to primitive hijacking.

I wanna talk about a type of entrepreneur who functions as a kind of popular music patron of the arts. It’s good to know a patron. I call him El Padron because his relationship to the artist is essentially feudal, though benign. He or she (La Padrona) if you will, is someone, usually the product of successful, enlightened parents, who owns a record company, but has had benefit of a very good education, and can see a bigger picture than a petty business person. If they like an artists’ style and it suits them, they'll support you even if you’re not a big money spinner. I can tell you, some of these powerful guys get so bored that if you are fun in the office, you’ll go places. Their ancestors, the old time record crooks just made it their business to make great, great records, but also to rip off the artist 100%, copyright, publishing, royalty splits, agency fees, you name it. If anyone complained the line was "Pay you? We worship you!" God bless Bo Diddley.

By the time I came along, there was a new brand of Padron. People like this are still around and some can help you. One was named Jack Holzman. Jack had a beautiful label called Elektra Records, they put out Judy Collins, Tim Buckley, the Doors and Love. He'd started working in his family record store, like Brian Epstein. He dressed mod and he treated us very gently. He was a civilized man. He obviously loved the arts, but what he really wanted to do was build his business - and he did. He had his own concerns, and style, and you had to serve them, and of course when he sold out, as all indies do, you were stranded culturally in the hands of a cold clumsy conglomerate. But he put us in the right studios with the right producers and he tried to get us seen in the right venues and it really helped. This is a good example of the industry.

Another good guy I met is Sir Richard Branson. I ended up serving my full term at Virgin Records having been removed from every other label. And he created a superior culture there. People were happier and nicer than the weasels at some other places. The first time he tried to sign me it didn't work out, because I had my sights set on A&M, a company I thought would help make me respectable. After all they had Sting! Richard was secretly starting his own company at the time in the US and he phoned me in my tiny flat with no furniture. He said he'd give me a longer term deal with more dough than the other guys and he was very, very polite and soft spoken. But I had just smoked a joint that day and I couldn't make a decision. So I went with the other guys who soon got sick of me. Virgin picked me up again later on the rebound. And on the cheap. Damn. My own fault.

Another kind of indie legend who is slightly more contemporary is Long Gone John of the label Sympathy for the Record Industry. Good name. John is famous with some artists for his disinterest in paying royalties. He has a very interesting music themed folk art collection – its visible online - which includes my leather jacket. I wish he'd give it back. There are lots of indie people with a gift for organization who just kind of collect freaks and throw them up at the wall to see who sticks. You gotta watch 'em.

When you go a step down creatively from the Padrons who are actually entrepreneurs you get to the executives. You don't wanna know these guys. They usually came over from legal or accounting. They have protégés usually called A&R men to do their dirty work. You can become a favorite with them if your fame or image might reflect limelight on their career. They tend to have no personalities to speak of, which is their strength. Strangely they're never really thinking about the good of their parent company as much as old number one. Avoid them. If you’re an artist, they’ll make you sick or suicidal. The only good thing the conglomerate can do for you – and they’ve done it recently for me - is make you really, really ubiquitous. They do that well. But, when the company is your banker, then you are basically gonna be the Beverly Hill Billies. So it's best not to take their money. Especially when you’re young. These are very tough people, and they can hurt you.

So who are the good guys?! They asked me when they read this thing at BBC 6 Music. Well there are lots of them. If fact, today there are more than ever and they are just about all indies, but first I want to mention Peter Gabriel and WOMAD for everything they've done for what seems like forever to help the greatest musicians in the world, the so called world musicians to gain a foothold and make a living in the modern screwed up cash and carry world. Traditional music was never a for profit enterprise, all the best forms were developed as a kind of you’re job in the community. It was pretty good, it was “Yeah, I’m a musician, I’m gonna skip like doing the dishes or taking the trash out.” It's not surprising that all the greatest singers and players come from parts of the world where everybody is broke and the old ways are getting paved over. So it's crucial for everyone that these treasures not be lost. There are other people of means and intelligence who help others in this way like Philip Glass through Tibet House, David Burn with Luaka Bop, Damon Albarn through Honest John Records. Shout out to Hypnotic Brass Ensemble. Almost all the best music is coming out on indies today like XL Matador, Burger, Anti, Epitaph, Mute, Rough Trade, 4 A D, Sub Pop, etc. etc.

But now YouTube is trying to put the squeeze on these people because it's just easier for a power nerd to negotiate with a couple big labels who own the kind of music that people listen to when they're really not that into music, which of course is most people. So they've got the numbers. But the indies kind of have the guns. I've noticed that indies are showing strength at some of the established streaming services like Spotify and Rhapsody – people are choosing that music. And it's also great that some people are starting their own outlets, like Pledge Music, Band Camp or Drip. As the commercial trade swings more into general show biz the indies will be the only place to go for new talent, outside the Mickey Mouse Club, so I think they were right to band together and sign the Fair Digital Deals Declaration.

There are just so many ways to screw an artist that it's unbelievable. In the old vinyl days they would deduct 10% "breakage fees" for records supposedly broken in shipping, whether that happened or not, and now they have unattributed digital revenue, whatever the **** that means. It means money for some guy’s triple bypass. I actually think that what Thom Yorke has done with Bit Torrent is very good. I was gonna say here: “Sure the guy is a pirate at Bit Torrent” but I was warned legally, so I’ll say: “Sure the guy a Bit Torrent is a pirate’s friend” But all pirates want to go legit, just like I wanted to be respectable. It’s normal. After a while people feel like you’re a crook, it’s too hard to do business. So it’s good in this case that Thom Yorke is encouraging a positive change. The music is good. It’s being offered at a low price direct to people who care.

I want to try to define what I am talking about when I say free. For me in the arts or in the media, there are two kinds of free. One kind of free is when the process is something that people just feel for you. You feel a sense of possibility. You feel a lack of constraint. This leads to powerful, energetic, sometimes kind of loony situations.

Vice Media is an interesting case of this because they started as a free handout, using public funds, and they had open, free-wheeling minds. Originally a free handout was called Voice and these kids were like “Just get rid of the old! I don’t wanna be Vice, yeah!” Okay. By taking an immersive approach with no particular preconceptions to their reporting, they've become a huge success, also through corporate advertising, at attracting big, big money investment hundreds of millions of dollars now pumped into Fox Media and a couple of others bigger than that in the US. And they get it because they attract lots of little boy eyeballs. So they brought us Dennis Rodman in North Korea. And it’s kind of a travesty, but it’s kind of spunky. It's interesting that capital investment, for all its posturing, never really leads, it always follows. They follow the action. So if it's money you're after, be the yourself in a consistent way and you might get it. You’ll at least end up getting what you are worth and feel better. Just follow your nose.

The second kind of freedom to me that is important in the media is the idea of giving freely. When you feel or sense that someone that someone is giving you something not out of profit, but out of self-respect, Christian charity, whatever it is. That has a very powerful energy. The Guardian, in my understanding, was founded by an endowment by a successful man with a social conscience who wanted to help create a voice for what I would call the little guy. So they have a kind of moral mission or imperative. This has given them the latitude to try to be interesting, thoughtful, helpful. And they bring Edward Snowden to the world stage. Something that is not pleasant for a lot of people to hear about, but we need to know.

These two approaches couldn't be more different. To justify their new mega bucks Vice will have to expand and expand in capital terms. Presumably they'll have to titillate a dumb, but energetic audience. Of course all capitalist expansions are subject to the big bang – balloon, bust, poof, and you’re gone. As for the Guardian I would imagine that the task involves gaining the trust and support of a more discerning, less definable reader, without spending the principal. There is usually an antipathy between cultural poles, but these two actually have a lot in common in terms of the energy and nuisance to power that they are willing to generate. I wish red and blue could come together somehow.

Sometimes I'd rather read than listen to music. One of my favourite odd books is Bootleg: The Secret History of the Other Recording Industry by Clinton Heylin. I bought the book in the 90's because a couple of my bootlegs were mentioned. I loved my bootlegs. They did a lot for me. I never really thought about the dough much. I liked the titles, like Suck on This, Stow Away DOA or Metalic KO. The packaging was always way more creative and edgy than most of my official stuff. So I just liked being seen and heard, like anybody else. These bootleggers were creative. Here are two quotes from the dust jacket by veteran industry stalwarts on the subject of bootlegs in 1994.

"Bootleg is the thoroughly researched and highly entertaining tale of those colorful brigands, hapless amateurs, and true believers who have done wonders for my record collection. Rock and roll doesn't get more underground than this." – that was David Fricke, the music editor of Rolling Stone "I think that bootlegs keep the flame of the music alive by keeping it out of not only the industry's conception of the artist, but also the artist's conception of the artist." – that was Lenny Kaye from the Patti Smith group, musician, critic and my friend.

Wow!! Sounds heroic and vital!

I wonder what these guys feel about all of this now, because things have changed, haven't they? We are now talking about Megaupload, Kim Dot Com, big money, political power, and varying definitions of theft that are legally way over my head. But I know a con man when I see one. I want to include a rant from an early bootlegger in this discussion because it's so passionate and I just think it's funny.

This is Lou Cohan "If anybody thinks that if I have purchased every single Rolling Stones album in existence, and I have bought all the Rolling Stones albums that have been released in England, France, Japan, Italy, and Brazil that if I have an extra $100 in my pocket instead of buying a Rolling Stones bootleg I am going to buy a John Denver album or a Sinead O'Conner album, they are retarded."

So the guy is trying to say don't try to force me. And don't steal my choice. And the people who don't want the free U2 download are trying to say, don't try to force me. And they've got a point. Part of the process when you buy something from an artist. It’s a kind of anointing, you are giving people love. It’s your choice to give or withhold. You are giving a lot of yourself, besides the money. But in this particular case, without the convention, maybe some people felt like they were robbed of that chance and they have a point. It’s not the only point. These are not bad guys. But now, everybody's a bootlegger, but not as cute, and there are people out there just stealing the stuff and saying don't try to force me to pay. And that act of thieving will become a habit and that’s bad for everything. So we are exchanging the corporate rip off for the public one. Aided by power nerds. Kind of computer Putins. They just wanna get rich and powerful. And now the biggest bands are charging insane ticket prices or giving away music before it can flop, in an effort to stay huge. And there's something in this huge thing that kind of sucks.

Which brings us to Punk. The most punk thing I ever saw in my life was Malcolm McLaren's cardboard box full of dirty old winkle pinkers. It was the first thing I saw walking in the door of Let It Rock in 1972 which was his shop at Worlds End on the Kings Road. It was a huge ugly cardboard bin full of mismatched unpolished dried out winkle pickers without laces at some crazy price like maybe five pounds each. Another 200 yards up the street was Granny Takes a Trip, where they sold proper Rockstar clothes like scarves, velvet jackets, and snake skin platform boy boots. Malcolm's obviously worthless box of shit was like a fire bomb against the status quo because it was saying that these violent shoes have the right idea and they are worth more than your fashion, which serves a false value. This is right out of the French enlightenment.

So is the thieving that big a deal? Ethically, yes, and it destroys people because it's a bad road you take. But I don't think that's the biggest problem for the music biz. I think people are just a little bit bored, and more than a little bit broke. No money. Especially simple working people who have been totally left out, screwed and abandoned. If I had to depend on what I actually get from sales I’d be tending bars between sets. I mean honestly it’s become a patronage system. There’s a lot of corps involved and I don’t fault any of them but it’s not as much fun as playing at the Music Machine in Camden Town in 1977. There is a general atmosphere of resentment, pressure, kind of strange perpetual war, dripping on all the time. And I think that prosecuting some college kid because she shared a file is a lot like sending somebody to Australia 200 years ago for poaching his lordship's rabbit. That's how it must seem to poor people who just want to watch a crappy movie for free after they’ve been working themselves to death all day at Tesco or whatever, you know.

If I wanna make music, at this point in my life I'd rather do what I want, and do it for free, which I do, or cheap, if I can afford to. I can. And fund through alternative means, like a film budget, or a fashion website, both of which I've done. Those seem to be turning out better for me than the official rock n roll company albums I struggle through. Sorry. If I wanna make money, well how about selling car insurance? At least I'm honest. It's an ad and that's all it is. Every free media platform I've ever known has been a front for advertising or propaganda or both. And it always colors the content. In other words, you hear crap on the commercial radio. The licensing of music by films, corps, and TV has become a flood, because these people know they're not a hell of a lot of fun so they throw in some music that is. I'm all for that, because that's the way the door opened for me. I got heard on tv before radio would take a chance. But then I was ok. Good. And others too. I notice there are a lot of people, younger and younger, getting their exposure that way. But it's a personal choice. I think it’s an aesthetic one, not an ethical one.

Now with the Internet people can choose to hear stuff and investigate it in their own way. If they want to see me jump around the Manchester Apollo with a horse tail instead of trying to be a proper Rockstar, they can look. Good. Personally I don't worry too much about how much I get paid for any given thing, because I never expected much in the first place and the whole industry has become bloated in its expectations. Look, Howling Wolf would work for a sandwich. This whole thing started in Honky Tonk bars. It's more important to do something important or just make people feel something and then just trust in God. If you're an entertainer your God is the public. They'll take care of you somehow. I want them to hear my music any old which way. Period. There is an unseen hand that turns the pages of existence in ways no one can predict. But while you’re waiting for God to show up and try to find a good entertainment lawyer.

It's good to remember that this is a dream job, whether you're performing or working in broadcasting, or writing or the biz. So dream. Dream. Be generous, don’t be stingy. Please. I can't help but note that it always seems to be the pursuit of the money that coincides with the great art, but not its arrival. It's just kind of a death agent. It kills everything that fails to reflect its own image, so your home turns into money, your friends turn into money, and your music turns into money. No fun, binary code – zero one, zero one - no risk, no nothing. What you gotta do you gotta do, life's a hurly-burly, so I would say try hard to diversify your skills and interests. Stay away from drugs and talent judges. Get organized. Big or little, that helps a lot.

I'd like you to do better than I did. Keep your dreams out of the stinky business, or you'll go crazy, and the money won't help you. Be careful to maintain a spiritual EXIT. Don't live by this game because it's not worth dying for. Hang onto your hopes. You know what they are. They’re private. Because that's who you really are and if you can hang around long enough you should get paid. I hope it makes you happy. It's the ending that counts, and the best things in life really are free.

#iggy pop #idk if anyone posted it here already #I'm just too lazy to look up so #here it is!

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callmeblake · 5 years

Photo

Frank Iero, New York, NY, June 2019 (X)

Aug 29, 2019, 09:10am

Frank Iero May Just Be His Own Puppet Master

Photo Credit: Audrey Lew

Interview below the cut

Derek Scancarelli

Contributor

Hollywood & Entertainment

I am a music journalist living in New York City.

Frank Iero is breathing deeply and fighting off nausea. This isn’t uncommon for the 37-year-old guitarist and vocalist, given his predilection for debilitating anxiety. But on this occasion, it isn’t pre-show jitters.

“Oh my god, I hate this f*cking boat,” Iero says, as the docked vessel on which he sits knocks against a pier in the Lower East Side of Manhattan. Iero and his band, The Future Violents, just finished an intimate Saturday matinee show as fans sweat, sang and caught a glimpse of the Statue of Liberty.

It had been about 16 years since Iero and his now defunct band, My Chemical Romance (the band broke up in 2013), first performed on water. In July of 2002, the band released its debut album, I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love. In October of 2003, the soon-to-be emo heroes performed alongside New York Hardcore legends Sick Of It All at an aquatic gig booked by New Jersey college radio station WSOU. And in June of 2004, My Chemical Romance released Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, the band’s platinum-selling breakthrough record. In a matter of two years, Iero’s life changed dramatically.

In 2019, Iero still hasn’t found his sea legs, but a lot more has changed. He’s fathered three children, released three full-length solo records (including 2019’s Barriers), and survived a near-death experience. And as he gets older, he finds truth in life’s greatest clichés.

“Time flies, it just screams by,” Iero says. “You think you’re appreciating the time, but it’s easy to take it for granted. It’s a shame.”

But Iero is trying his hardest to pay attention to the little things, especially when it comes to family. He and his wife, Jamia, have three children together: nine-year-old twin daughters, Cherry and Lily, and a seven-year-old son named Miles.

“It’s wonderful to see them evolve and come into their own,” Iero says. “But it’s funny how personalities are innate. We shape the way they experience things or teach them the ropes, but for the most part, I’ve found that we are who we are when we’re born.”

From the start, Iero has seen an even split in the twins’ personalities. Cherry, he says, most behaves like her mother, whereas Lily possesses her father’s attitude.

“Some of the sh*t I hear coming out of my daughter's mouth,” Iero says laughing. “My God! It’s stuff I think but never say — they don't know to be ashamed yet! It's amazing and honest and pure. And I know exactly where she's coming from because I feel the same way.”

As part of fostering a relationship of trust and honesty, Iero has been age-appropriately transparent with his kids about the 2016 accident that almost killed him, his brother-in-law and guitarist Evan Nestor and his manager Paul Clegg.

While unloading gear from their van in Sydney, Australia, a city bus crashed into the group and their vehicle. In a 2017 interview with MTV, Iero recounted, in vivid detail, the moment he was dragged underneath the bumper of the bus, the screams of his brother-in-law, and the blood pooling from his manager.

Although Iero was able to walk into an ambulance carrying one of his friends, the scene was a spectacle overrun with emergency personnel — they even landed a rescue helicopter in nearby Hyde Park. Despite serious injuries, amazingly, there were no fatalities.

When Iero returned home from the hospital, he explained to his children that he was in a car accident, but that it was a singular freak incident.

“You don't want to lie,” he says. “They're getting older. Their friends and their parents are on the internet. They're asking questions. It does get back to them.”

Iero was as honest as possible, but avoided any gory details. He was also conscious that it wouldn’t be long before he would travel for work again — and he didn’t want to scare his kids any further.

Almost four years later, residual damage from the crash is impossible to ignore. Nestor has nerve damage in his leg that may never be corrected. Clegg’s leg and knee have undergone multiple surgeries, but are in poor shape. And Iero still has a tear in his shoulder that hurts every time he plays the guitar. Despite the pain, he’s afraid to undergo surgery.

“I was lucky enough to walk away and still play,” Iero says. “If I were to test fate again and go under the knife, if something were to go wrong… to let that be taken from me … no, I can't.”

On some days, the emotional toll of surviving such a traumatic accident weighs more heavily. Iero describes his recovery as non-linear: some days he feels collected and in control, other days the memory rushes back into his mind.

After his new band finished recording Barriers, Iero and his team went back to Australia for appointments pertaining to the accident and corresponding litigation. As soon as he exited the plane, Iero felt like he’d returned to the horrific scene. For the following week, he was barraged by an unending state of panic.

“You go through these instances of PTSD,” he says. “You never know what's going to trigger and send you all the way back to the beginning with recovery.”

Iero greatly underestimated how difficult his return to Australia would be. When navigating to a doctor’s office near where the accident occurred, he couldn’t bring himself to walk down the street. And suddenly, he felt surrounded by buses.

“I don't know if this is true,” he says. “But it felt like every other car on the street was one of these f*cking buses. They were everywhere. It was frightening. I couldn't do anything. I was shaking like a leaf.”

Despite the traumatic flashbacks, Iero continues to reflect on that day. In the promotional run for Barriers, he discussed the accident at length. And on the record itself, he addresses the complicated ripple effect it’s had on his entire sense of self.

“I don't think it needs to define me,” Iero says. “But it was something I needed to talk about on this record. It's not something I could sweep under the rug. But do I want to dwell on it every day and relive it? No. But I think about it constantly. I feel the pain constantly. It's on my mind.”

In recent interviews, Iero has tended to frame a few philosophical takeaways from his ordeal. In simple terms, the first idea is that he’s found a new lease on life — that everything happens for a reason and he’s been given an opportunity to seize the day. The second philosophy is much darker, a sort of survivor’s guilt compounded with fear and existential dread. The third and most abstract consideration is closest to Simulation Theory — where Iero has the ability to control his own artificial timeline.

Sometimes, Iero questions if actually died that day. He wonders: Is this all real?

“It’s hard. No one can tell you what to believe,” he says. “But you come to this realization, ‘Well, this is real to me, the hand I was dealt, so I have to make the best of it!’”

Through the acceptance of uncertainty, Iero surmises that he just may be his own puppet master.

“If this is a figment of my imagination,” Iero says. “If this is all in my head, then I am the master of my own destiny. If I want to do something, I can manufacture it. And if it's not the case, then at least it's a self-fulfilling prophecy. Maybe putting positive vibes out into the universe is beneficial. If we didn't make it and we're just going through this weird labyrinth in my mind, I can do anything I want.”

And lately, he’s been doing just that. Call it sorcery or the power of positive thinking, but Iero is motivated. For Barriers, he was able to assemble a dream band, The Future Violents (different lineups of his backing band have previously gone by The Cellabration and The Patience), featuring his brother-in-law Nestor on guitar, Thursday’s Tucker Rule on drums, Murder by Death’s Matt Armstrong on bass, and Kayleigh Goldsworthy on keyboard.

The theme of the album — and his own internal dialogue — mostly relates to tragedy and timing. Did the universe have a course set out for him? Or was he just some random victim?

“The crazy thing is that you didn't do anything wrong,” Iero says of the accident. “Yet, all of this stuff was taken from you and you have to make these decisions. You get angry a lot.”

He continues: “These random, abrupt, violent actions. Do they happen to us? Or for us? I wouldn't have been able to make this record if it didn't happen. And it made me realize a lot of things about myself. Am I happy it happened? No. But I'm happy where I am right now.”

Iero views Barriers as an exercise in vulnerability. If the aftermath of his accident taught him anything, it’s that success was meaningless to his character, but adversity helped him grow. For the first time, addressing childhood trauma helped Iero expose himself in a way that felt freeing.

“When you put something to song, it gives that memory weight,” Iero explains. “If you never talk about it, it's almost like it didn't happen. There's a fine line between relinquishing that power to this memory, situation or trauma, or holding that power over it and creating your own narrative from it.”

Barriers also intertwines Iero’s childhood experiences with his current perspective as a father. This go around, he felt comfortable writing about his parents’ divorce — the couple split when he was three and divorced when he was seven.

He looks back on the unpleasantness of the process and his consequential understanding of his mother’s issues with addiction, depression and mental illness. On his 2016 record, Parachutes, Iero first referenced his mother’s struggles and his own liability to inherit her traits. He’s still horrified by the idea of predeterminism.

“When you're a young kid being surrounded with it, it doesn't feel right,” Iero says. “You're not happy. You're scared. You're constantly concerned for your parent. It’s almost as if you become the caregiver.”

He continues: “Then you see yourself falling into these patterns that you were witness to and maybe in a roundabout way were taught. That addiction, that depression, runs through you. It's easy to fall off that cliff. I don't want that for my kids and I need to stop this cycle. Like this sh*t stops with me. Whether it be I get okay, or I f*cking turn my lights out.”

It’s this sort of tongue-in-cheek use of concerning language that keeps Iero’s fanbase enthralled, yet somewhat on edge. Take for example, in the comment section for his video “Young & Doomed,” some diehard fans are troubled by his repeated use of the words “hurt myself again.” While he’s surprised to hear about the response, he counters that the record is ultimately meant to feel uplifting and positive, even if addressing dark topics.

“I don't think that we should strive for perfection,” Iero says. “This idea that we should all have this perfect life and be pretty and purse our lips to post a picture on social media is bullsh*t. The things that make us unique are important.”

He continues: “Sometimes we're our own worst enemies and we hurt ourselves. Those scars, though, are important. They're beautiful. ‘Young And Doomed’ is a call to arms to celebrate the things people think are wrong with us.”

Now, Iero just hopes his story and music inspire fans to try, fail and try again.

“You don't find out who you are unless you get a scar and get hurt,” Iero says. “You should be hurt, hurt other people, and learn that it feels terrible to hurt someone else. You should feel sorry for it and make amends for it. These are important lessons to be a better person. You find out who you truly are by attacking things that scare you the most.”

Frank Iero is currently touring Europe with Laura Jane Grace & The Devouring Mothers.

#frank iero #august 2019 #forbes #audrey lew #red eagle shirt #all blue #october 2019 #bus crash #navy blue tiger windbreaker

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ubernoxa · 4 years

Text

The Slippery Slope: An Izzy Stradlin FANFICTION

Chapter 3: An Apetite for Destruction

Story Summary: After leaving Guns N’ Roses, Izzy find himself in a rut, and decideds to visit the local zoo. While visiting the penguin exhibit, he meets a red head named Poppy. Will they manage to keep standing while on their slippery slope?

Chapter Summary: Poppy calls an old friend for advice, and Izzy runs into Poppy at a record store and hope to corrects things.

Tags: @slashscowboyboots @smokeandmirrorz

Masterlist coming soon, but Chapter 1 Chapter 2

“Ohh god I made such a fool of myself, he is never going to talk to me again. Why am I so awkward?” Poppy whined into the phone as her old college roommate, Lissa, sympathetically listened. This wasn’t the first time Poppy had been freaking out about a guy, and she knew that it wasn’t going to be the last.

“Calm down Poppy, you are probably overanalyzing it,” Lissa was trying to calm Poppy down, but it wasn’t working.. She wished that Poppy had called her right after the date instead of the morning after. It was clear to Lisa that Poppy had spent most of the night overanalyzing and imagining future scenarios that wouldn’t happen.

Poppy sighed as she plopped down on her bed, still holding the phone to her ear. She wanted to kick herself. She wished she became an engineer instead of a biologist, so she could invent a time machine and travel back in time.

“Do you want to tell me what happened? It might help,” Lissa’s voice cut through the silence.

“So it is all the stupid busboy’s fault!” Poppy shouted into her phone. Lissa playfully rolled her eyes at the very limited story she told.

“I am going to need more details hun.”

“So everything is going great. He is super sweet and really funny. He started off super quiet, and barely spoke at the beginning of dinner. Once the food came he became kinda chatty,” Poppy began telling the story while Lissa nodded her head as she listened over the phone.

“What did you wear?” Lissa interrupted earning some confusion from Poppy.

“I don’t see how that is relevant.”

“Hey, it helps paint a picture of you on your date at some fancy italian restaurant in the middle of nowhere Indiana,” Lissa rebuttled earning a groan from Poppy.

After a couple moments of silence, Poppy broke the silence, “I wore the short gold dress.”

“Thanks, now you can continue the story,” Lissa sarcastically replied earning a light chuckle from Poppy who wished her old roommate was here in Indiana, and not in the middle of nowhere Maine.

“As I was saying, everything was going great. The food was spectacular, and we were clicking. Every once and a while silence would fill the space between us, but it was a comfortable silence. It was when we were looking at the menu or eating. We even shared our dinners. Like Lissa...this is going to sound really cheesy, but he even fed me his food. You know, like in those romance movies we watch all the time?”

“Aww that is really sweet of him. If he has a twin I call dibs,” Lissa half joked.

“Anyway, we both finished our dinners and this busboy….ohh god the fucking bus boy,” Lissa froze as Poppy swore. She had known Poppy for 5 years, and she had only heard the girl swear a handful of times.

“What did the busboy do? Did he make fun of you or something like that?”

“No. So the busboy goes and asks ‘Did you enjoy your dinner Mr Stradlin?’ Then I mumble something like Stradlin is a silly last name which it is! It didn’t sound like a real name to be honest. Sounds kinda like a sex joke. Anyway the busboy turns to me and says ‘Well I guess that is one of the perks of being a rockstar…you get to choose whatever name you want. Plus it’s not the weirdest name, he has a bandmate named Duff and another named Axl’. I fucking froze when the busboy said that. The reason Izzy didn’t want to talk about his job was because he was a part of Guns N’ Roses. That is why he never mentioned his last name to me,” Lissa didn’t need to be in the same room as Poppy to know that she was most likely dramatically flapping her arm in the air like the penguins she took care of.

“Wait wait wait...you went on a date with Izzy Stradlin,” Lissa was attempting to connect the dots and understand Poppy met a rockstar.

“I guess..” Poppy mumbled back.

“What do you mean I guess. You didn’t recognize him from all of the magazines that have been littering the checkout counter at practically every grocery store ever since he left Guns N’ Roses? It was also all over the radio!” Poppy groaned at Lisa’s comment. She should have known. Izzy wasn’t a name like Mike or Mark where there are thousands of people walking around with that name. There were probably a handful of people named Izzy, if any at all. An Izzy in Indiana who is a quiet musician and has brown hair could only have been Izzy the rockstar.

“God I’m an awkward idiot…” Poppy once again mumbled. She wanted to slap herself silly.

“What else happened,” Lissa asked after a couple moments of silence.

“Well anyway, once the busboy pointed out that Izzy was a rockstar, things got awkward. The busboy left, and when the check came he didn’t even look over it. He just handed our waitress his credit card and told her to process it as soon as possible. It was clear that he wanted out,” Poopy’s heart sunk as she recalled the moment.

“How were you the awkward one?” Lissa asked, trying to follow Poppy’s questionable logic.

“I haven’t gotten to that part yet. So we start to leave the restaurant and I missed that he offered to take my hand. Then when we were outside the restaurant waiting for the valet to grab our cars, he offered for us to go and walk to a nearby gelato place that I mentioned during appetizers. The problem was that I already saw the valet driving towards us in my car, and it felt like he was doing it out of pity…so I said no. The whole drive home I was kicking myself!”

“Doesn’t sound too bad hun. Also, he might have just been trying to get out of the restaurant before everyone else recognized him. From what I’ve heard from interviews and stuff, he never was the one who wanted to be the center of attention. Poppy...getting gelato might have been because he didn’t want the date to end…” Lissa was trying to lift Poppy’s spirits by giving an alternate scenario, one that Lissa believed to be the real reason.

“You’re just stressing yourself over nothing,” Lissa added trying the break the silence once again.

“What do I do, Lissa.”

“Go to a music shop. Find his albums and buy them so you could listen to them. Worst case you case you could show up and get some music for your penguins to listen to…”

“I’m going to stand out like a sore thumb….”

“Poppy...you will not stand out in a music shop”

After 20 minutes of Lissa convincing Poppy to get dress and head to the music shop, Poppy found herself standing outside the music store. The closest one was in Lafayette which was a quick drive from her apartment. She took a deep breath before she walked in.

Poppy almost jumped when the bell on the door rang.

“Welcome to Halls Music Shop,” On the outside Poppy smiled and waved at the man who was working the register, internally she wanted to bolt out of the shop because she felt several eyes on her.

The first floor was filled with records and cassette tapes. Poppy wandered towards the section labeled rock as she was determined to find the record and quickly leave as soon as possible. She sighed as she quickly realized how large the rock section was, this wasn’t going to be as easy as she expected. She was under the assumption that there were two maybe three type of rock music; classic, punk, and heavy. There were 15, 15 type of rock.

“Hey, I’m Ryan! Are you looking for anything in particular?” A tall brunette pulled her out of her thoughts of trying to figure out which one of the types of rock Izzy’s band was.

“Yeah….umm...it’s called Guns N’ Roses,” Poppy sent Ryan a soft smile who sent it right back to her.

“Good choice! I saw them live a year ago, and it was insane. If you ever get the chance I would highly recommend seeing them live. It’s almost impossible to believe how insanely awesome their shows are,” Ryan said to Poppy remembering most of the night from the show. His ticket was worth every penny, and he was hoping they would add more tour dates soon.

“Cool, I had a friend recommend them to me. She said I’d like them,” Poppy replied trying to keep the conversation going. It wasn’t a complete lie, but it was a rehearsed one.

“You haven’t been listening to them? They’re the only thing everyone is talking about!”

Across the small store, Izzy stood on the second floor looking through their guitars for sale. Did he need one? No.

Was he looking to distract himself from his date last night? Yes.

Everything was going perfect in his book. He was playing all the moves that his old band mates had taught him. From being overly sweet like Duff to making her endlessly laugh like Steven. Then the damn busboy had to blow his cover. Granted he really didn’t have a cover, but he still hated the busboy. Once the busboy opened his stupid mouth. He knew the entire time all that was going through Poppy’s head was that Izzy was a rockstar with a rockstar lifestyle.

He shook his head before deciding to just pick up his new strings, and headed down the stairs to the checkout. He found this place within the first week of movie back, and was forever great fun for it.

As he headed down the stairs, he immediately saw the redhead. Unsure of what had taken over him, Izzy headed towards the rock section where he saw Poppy looking through cassettes.

“Hey Pops,” A smile grew on Poppy’s face as Izzy stood next to her pretending to look through some of the cassettes.

“Hey,” Poppy felt her heart rate immediately skyrocket when he got even closer to her.

‘Don’t be awkward. Just keep breathing. Maybe Lissa was right about overanalyzing this entire situation’ poppy mental told herself.

“Looking for anything in particular?” Izzy was slowly piecing the pieces to the puzzle that was Poppy’s brain.

“Well I’m obviously looking for the perfect album,” Poppy teased back as she continued to purposely search away from the Guns N’ Roses section. After a couple of seconds of perusing through, Poppy smiled when she found the perfect cassette to tease Izzy with.

“Ahh, here we go,” Poppy grabbed a Motley Crue cassette and proudly showed it to Izzy, earning a playful eye roll from the guitarist. Poppy didn’t know a lot about rock bands, but she knew about the tension between Axl Rose and Vince Neil. There was a solid month where that’s all the magazines that littered the grocery store checkout aisle talked about.

“Girls, Girls, Grils?” A smirk was present on Izzy lips when he spoke.

“Yeah! First off I’m a girl, so obviously this album is for me. Secondly, there is nothing hotter than guys on bikes. Lastly, these songs just speak to me,” Poppy said, attempting to hide her laughter.

“These songs speak to you? Ohh do tell!” Izzy asked, a smirk never leaving his lips.

“Well, the first song Wild Side...clearly as you can tell by just looking at me I have such a rambunctious side! Plus I have worked with wild animals.”

“Ohh I can see it now, you and your penguin sidekicks probably get in all sorts of trouble,” Poppy laughed at Izzy’s comment before continuing on with her explanation.

“Girls, Girls, Girls….self explanatory. The song is clearly written for me...a female,” this earned a chuckle from Izzy who knew that Poppy had clearly never listened to the song before.

Poppy felt the nerves vanish as Izzy laughed. She felt her cheeks and ears redden. She felt smaller against the tall guitarist.

“What about Dancing on Glass?” Izzy asked, breaking the silence between them.

“Well as an ex-ballerina I don’t not see the appeal to dancing on glass…”

“It is about Nikki’s, the guy who wrote the song, Heroin overdose, the shit he and his band went through to get to that point in time, and how he wouldn't go through that routine again. Like he said,"it's just like dancing on glass” Poppy nodded as Izzy briefly talked about the song.

“Did you write any songs?” A soft smile formed on Izzy’s lips as he headed over towards where the Guns N’ Roses cassettes were. Poppy put the Motley Crue cassette that she had no intention of buying back and followed him.

“One of the most popular songs I worked on with Guns was Sweet Child of mine. It was definitely one of those all hands on deck situations, but I provided most of the chords. The intro bit is 100% Slash’s warm up. Out Ta Get Me was another one I wrote. It’s a fun song to play,” Poppy quickly interrupted Izzy by teasily correcting him, “Out to get me….out ta get me isn’t proper English.”

“Well I’ll have you know I’m the only one in Guns to have a high school degree, so grammatical correctness wasn’t are highest concern,” Poppy simply giggles at his remark before he continued talking.

“Mr. Brownstone was another good one Slash and I wrote. It’s about what a day in the life of being a struggling LA band on the strip.” Poppy watched as sorrow grew on his face.

“What about Patience, that one doesn’t sound at all like a rock n roll song,” Poppy tried to distract him by bringing up another song on the cassette that she was holding. It was called G N’ R Lies, a rather odd name for a album, but she assumed they had some sound reasoning for it.

“It’s not really,” Poppy nodded her head at his comment. He then went completely silent looking at the cassettes, memories of both good times and bad flooding his head.

“Well, maybe you should play it for me sometime.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Poppy felt a soft smile across her lips as he replied.

“You have too many albums Izzy..you make it hard to choose just one,” Poppy teased, still trying to lighten his mood.

When that didn’t work, she snatched the cassette he was holding, “Hmm Appetite for Destruction sounds like the one for me.”

“Ohh so are you telling me you crave destruction?” Izzy finally spoke again, a smirk lingering on his features.

“I’m a biologist who studies dangerous animals for a living, I don’t just crave destruction. I control it,” The words were coming out faster than she could think. What she was saying felt silly, but when she looked back to Izzy who now had his arm wrapped around her wrist she didn’t regret the words one bit.

“I would trust penguins under the dangerous animals category,” Izzy smugly replied.

“What about polar bears or mountain lions?”

“Okay, those...those are dangerous,” he didn’t look at her when he responded, but a smile lingered on his face.

“Is that all for you then today?” Ryan asked as Izzy placed the guitar strings he needed to buy on the counter.

“And a cassette of Appetite,” Izzy offered his hand and Poppy placed the cassette in his hand.

“Buying your own albums now?” Ryan asked, raising an eyebrow towards the guitarist.

Izzy shrugged before handing the cashier his credit card. Once the transaction was done, Poppy immediately reached down to grab his hand, slowly stroking it with her thumb.

“Do you have any plans for the afternoon?”

Poppy shook her head no before following Izzy to his car. She was expecting some luxury sports car, but instead he drove a burnt red truck. She couldn’t explain why, but it fit him perfectly.

He put the cassette in, and drove back to his place with Poppy along for the ride. She by no means was a singer, but she was quick to pick up on the refrains.

“You know that the song ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ isn’t very welcoming. I do not feel welcome in whatever jungle y’all were in when you performed that, and I have been to many jungles...if I may add,” Poppy said once Welcome to the Jungle finished. This earned a small smile from Izzy who was surprised that listening to his old album wasn’t making him incredibly pissed off, he figured it was because of Poppy who was dancing and poorly singing next to him.

About half way through ‘It’s so Easy’ Poppy just started cracking up.

“What?”

“It’s nothing,” Poppy tried to hide her giggle as she spoke.

“Sounds like something,” Now Izzy was curious to see the red head’s opinion on the song.

“It’s so easy, when everyone is trying to please me!” Poppy jokingly sang, mocking the song. Was his band seriously that cocky?

“Mock all you want, but that song is inspired by the life we lived,” Poppy dialed back on the mocking and continued to jokingly dance in her seat, clearly earning stares from nearby cars.

By the time Nightrain came on Poppy was pretending to play guitar and drums. Izzy couldn’t help, but smile at the reaction she had to his music.

“Your place is beautiful,” Poppy said as they pulled up to what she assumed to be Izzy’s place. It wasn’t an extravagant LA mansion, but it was home. It was also was a huge fuck you to Axl, since they both talked about living in the house growing up.

“Thanks,” Izzy replied as he unlocked the door. He couldn’t have unlocked the door faster.

Once Poppy made it inside she practically felt herself slammed up against the now closed front door. She looked up to see Izzy, who wore a look that made her want to melt. Holy fuck he looked hot towering over her.

“So, is this how you welcome most guests?” Poppy asked, unable to look away from his eyes.

Even though it was no later than 3pm, the foyer in his house was dark. His face was partially hidden in the shadows, but she could still see the outline of his face and his deep hazel eyes that she swore changed color in the afternoon sun.

She expected him to taste like a mix of alcohol and cigarettes, but she was quickly proven wrong. He tasted like caramel. The type of warm Carmel that you would find in pie. It was calming, as she felt his fingers dance down her sides.

As if on reflex, Poppy intertwined her fingers in his hair. Her mind went blank, unable to focus on any single thing as she felt Izzy’s tongue in her mouth. Izzy began to slowly guide Poppy towards his couch with intentions that could only be described as those belonging to a rockstar.

#gnr fanfiction #gnr imagine #gnr fanfic #guns and roses imagine #guns and roses fanfic #guns and roses fanfiction #guns n roses fanfiction #guns n roses imagine #guns n roses fanfic #guns n’ roses fanfic #guns n’ roses imagine #guns n’ roses fanfiction #izzy stradlin fanfic #izzy stadlin fanfiction #izzy stradlin imagine

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taexual · 5 years

Text

HOLIC - 45 | jb x reader

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: fluffy start with some angst for dessert

words: 4.6k

disclaimer: i do not own the gif, please let me know if it belongs to you, so i can give proper credit

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“I now it’s Sunday and it’s a sad day for everyone everywhere but I also know you don’t have to work on Monday, so there’s no reason for you to sulk,” Jaebum insisted, knocking on the door of your bedroom the next day, “I don’t know what to do to get you out of your room, so I’ve ordered pizza. A few pizzas, actually. Too many to eat on my own, so, please come out so I wouldn’t have to waste food.”

You’d been holed up inside the entire day – and this certainly wasn’t the first time Jaebum tried to get you to come out, God bless him – politely refusing every offer he’d made through the closed door of your room, but you knew you weren’t being fair. You knew you had to go out and explain what was going on with you, eventually. Hiding was just temporary and, honestly, childish.

So, after another tirade of knocking from a very determined Jaebum, you walked out of your room, obviously surprising him as he jumped back as soon as the door opened.

“Shit, I didn’t think that’d work,” he gasped, smiling in spite of himself. It’d only been a day since he’s last seen you and already he was displaying a poor impulse control around you.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Can’t let that food go to waste.”

“Right, well, come on,” he took your hand – even though he only considered gentle coaxing to get you to come to the kitchen, now that he saw you, he was afraid you’d sneak back into your bedroom if he didn’t physically pull you out of it the next second – and dragged you towards the empty living room area. “I don’t know what happened but—”

“Jaebum—”

“No, don’t,” he stopped you. “I get it. Sharing our problems with each other is something we’ve been doing since we moved in together, even though it wasn’t always strictly voluntary. But sometimes, it takes time to deal with certain things, so I’m not going to push you to tell me what’s bothering you if you’re not done processing it yourself.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I am done. I’m done with... with everything, really. These photography events? I’m not going to do them. I won’t—”

“Oh. Are you sure that’s the right choice?”

You sighed. “Yeah. I am.”

“Is that why you were—”

“No, I was trying to fade into oblivion because of how long it took me to get here. Because of how long it took me to make the right choice,” you swallowed. “Listen, I ran into Jackson last night and I have to tell you something. I—”

The doorbell rang, cutting you off at the very peak of your courage. You could almost physically feel the levels of your bravery recede as soon as Jaebum asked you to wait for “just a moment” and went to greet the delivery boy with your pizzas. You didn’t feel that hungry all of a sudden.

“Hey, here’s an idea,” Jaebum called out after the delivery boy left. The two cardboard boxes of pizza in his hands limited his ability to maneuver so you went over to help him lock the door. “How about we don’t talk about any of the philosophical right choices anymore, hmm? I’m afraid I’m losing you to, like, Kant. Or Freud. Or—”

You laughed at this, following him to the kitchen and picking up some plates from the cupboards while he unboxed the pizzas.

“No, I’m far from that level of thought,” you replied and then turned around to face him. “But okay. That’s fair. I won’t do that anymore.”

“Oh, don’t think it’s because I don’t want you to talk to me—”

“No, I understand. I’m not giving you any answers, anyway. You’re probably sick of me.”

“Only a little,” he teased and then laughed at your grimace. “You should go find a movie we can watch later. I’ll try to figure out why they didn’t include any of the sauces I’ve ordered.”

You raised your eyebrows, leaning closer to check the boxes he’d opened. “There are no sauces?”

“No, they’re here,” he said, suddenly locating the three small containers of sauce, all stuffed into the corner of one pizza box. “It’s all good. Go. Oh—what was it that you wanted to tell me?”

You had already managed to take three steps in the direction of your room when you stopped, turning around. “Hmm?”

“About Jackson?” Jaebum clarified, ripping the cover of one of the cardboard boxes to make it easier to transport it to his room. “You were saying something and then the doorbell—”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” you felt your skin shiver. Your courage to confess the truth about everything left with the pizza delivery boy. “I—well, it’s nothing important, really. I just saw him the other day at, uh, one of the exhibitions I’ve gone to, so, that was a surprise.”

“Oh, well, I’ve already told you he’s been off doing work for his family,” he said. “Did you get to talk to him? You should have given him a kick in the ass for me, by the way – I’ve been trying to reach him non-stop the whole morning today and he hasn’t even bothered to read my texts.”

“No, I—” you started to say and then, for the briefest of moments—that you truly despised yourself for later—you felt relieved to hear him say that. The last time you saw Jackson, he wasn’t exactly accommodating to your wish to stall a bit more before you finally came clean to Jaebum. “I-I haven’t talked to him much. Just said hi, had a quick chat and that’s all.”

“Hm,” Jaebum only nodded, now more preoccupied with the logistics of the boxes he had to carry to his room. “He said he’s coming back tomorrow afternoon so I guess I’ll ambush him then.”

You chuckled at this – more out of politeness than anything else – and returned to your room to pick your laptop up. As always, your designated spot for watching movies and eating junk food was his bedroom, not yours, so you headed over there, all while attempting to come to terms with the fact that, by tomorrow afternoon, Jaebum had to learn about the details of your contract with Jiho’s gallery. It felt like Jackson was purposefully giving you this much time to gather all the necessary courage.

Jaebum joined you in the room another few moments later, which didn’t give you nearly enough time to set your mind straight, but, then again, he could have stayed back in the kitchen for the entire night and that still wouldn’t have been enough time for you to get yourself together.

“I had this frustrating dream last night,” Jaebum confessed as he plopped down on his bed. You leaned over to help him with the elaborate arrangement of the pizza, the sauces, the laptop, and his own body – his large bed felt so much smaller now. “I was stuck in some sort of a box – honestly, it felt like a casket to me – that kept moving and I—”

“Like an elevator?” you asked.

“No—well, yeah, I guess kind of like an elevator,” he said and then added, “of nightmares. Anyway, it kept moving in this spinning motion and every time the door opened, the box was upside down and above a huge precipice. So, if I wanted to get out of it, I had to very literally jump to my death. But if I stayed inside, I just wouldn’t stop spiraling until I eventually passed out from vertigo or something.”

“Huh,” you reached for a slice of pizza. “Maybe that’s a metaphor for what’s going on in your life right now? Like, you’re taking this big risk by quitting your secure job at the radio station to focus on singing instead. That is kind of like taking a leap out of a haphazard elevator.”

Jaebum scoffed. “So, my life was a haphazard elevator and now I’m about to die?”

“No, I didn’t mean that. And who’s to say you’d have died if you’d jumped out of that elevator?”

“Well, I don’t think there are many people who have survived a twenty-meter drop straight down a precipice,” he dead-panned, picking a slice of pizza up.

“I’m just saying,” you mumbled with your mouth full of food and then stopped to finish chewing. “It’s a dream. Anything can happen in dreams.”

Dipping his slice into the sauce, he considered this and then sighed. “Maybe it is a metaphor. About fear.”

“That’s what I said.”

“No, but I don’t mean anything specific. Just fear in general.”

You paused again – the chewing was suddenly part of the conversation – before asking, “what are you afraid of?”

“I’m… Well, lots of things,” he said and then proceeded to count on his fingers, “death. Deep water. Those vintage porcelain—”

That sounded too much like he was purposefully avoiding answering your question and you shook your head, wiping the corners of your mouth with your fingers.

“Okay, I get that,” you stopped him. “I meant right now. Are you doing anything you’re afraid of? Aside from starting a whole new period of your life, I mean.”

Jaebum hesitated – obviously, the fear he was feeling right now wasn’t caused by any of the things he’d just mentioned – but covered it up by stuffing the remaining slice of pizza into his mouth. He took his sweet time chewing it.

“Y-yeah, but I’m not afraid of that new period,” he said finally, wiping the grease from his fingers onto his pants. You gave him a disapproving look – which he promptly ignored – as he tried to explain, “I’m just nervous about it, I guess. Excited, too. But, generally, I’m not afraid of that. There are just… these little things I’m afraid of.”

“Such as..?” you encouraged.

“I’m working on this song,” Jaebum said, avoiding your eyes as he reached for another slice.

You felt your skin break out in goosebumps – your body reacted before your mind could – and it took you a second to understand why. Then, Jackson mentioning that Jaebum had been writing a song about you returned to your memory with an overwhelming flash. Although you didn’t know if Jaebum was talking about the same song right now, suddenly you forgot how to chew and swallowed the piece of pizza you’d bitten off whole.

You coughed, clearing your throat before you asked, “w-what kind of song?”

“It’s—it’s something I’ve been writing for a while,” he replied, completely forgetting the sauce as he took a bite of his pizza. At this point, his mind was already so far from this room that the food seemed tasteless to him anyway.

“And you’re afraid of it?” you asked since, obviously, it was hard for him to keep talking on his own.

“I… yeah,” he said. “Sort of. That sounds stupid, I get it, but—”

“It doesn’t,” you disagreed. “You’re creating something. It’s normal to be worried about it.”

“No, but I can live with worries,” he said, groaning as he put his half-eaten slice of pizza on an empty plate he’d brought. “I can’t explain what I mean. And—actually—maybe that’s exactly where the problem – or, well, the fear – lies in. I’m just… I’m scared I won’t be able to put it all into words and it won’t come out right. The song, I mean. And, sometimes, I’m scared that the song won’t come out at all. O-or, if it will, it won’t do very well.”

You squinted your eyes as you listened to him speak, trying to figure out if “the song” was a metaphor for something much deeper of if this particular song really meant so much to him. It could have also been both, of course.

“Well,” you said slowly, “do you want the song to come out?”

“I do. Of course, I do.”

“Then it will,” you said.

“Right. But what if it doesn’t do well?” he repeated himself.

“That’s not possible,” you declared. “You hate abstractions, so the song is obviously going to be about something that people can relate to with ease. People usually like things they don’t have to try hard to understand. They enjoy songs that hit close to home.”

“It’s… it’s a song about this sort of one-in-a-lifetime experience, though,” Jaebum admitted. “I’m not sure if there are many people that will actually be able to relate to it.”

“Well, even if they can’t relate, that doesn’t mean they won’t enjoy it,” you said, your hands freezing even though there was a fire blazing inside of you. “What is the song about?”

“Well… it’s a personal song,” Jaebum said. The less specific he was, the more inclined you were to believe that this was the same song Jackson had mentioned and, consequently, the less oxygen there seemed to be in the room. You couldn’t stop thinking about the possible lyrics of the song.

“Okay,” you said, hoping your voice wasn’t shaking too obviously. “How much have you written? Can I hear it?”

Jaebum looked down, the abundance of thoughts in his mind – what a ridiculous contrast to the one, lonely thought that kept rotating around your mind like a loose tumbleweed in the wild wild west – making it difficult for him to find an answer to your question. He hadn’t lied to you when he said he was worried about the song not doing well – that part was true. And he also worried about it being misunderstood, that was true as well. But the thing that he was the most afraid of was the thing he couldn’t tell you about because it was hidden inside of said song.

He’d told you he focused on the most prominent emotion he was feeling when he wrote song lyrics and, this time, he tried to put all of his fear into this song. These fears – or, rather, just this one fear, in particular – had been bothering him for quite a while now: first, he had been afraid to get close to you, but after he had, he was suddenly afraid to fall in love with you. And now that he had, he was afraid to lose you.

His biggest fear was always you, and, simultaneously, it was also the absence of you. It would have surprised exactly no one to know that the song about the leading emotion he was feeling, was also a song about you.

“That’s another thing I’m afraid of,” Jaebum said after what felt like forever but was, really, no more than a minute. It was still not enough time for him to find a proper way to express himself – which was something that you could relate to.

“What? Me, hearing it?” you asked, confused.

He exhaled, nodding. “Yeah.”

“You shouldn’t be,” you said in a quiet voice, hating the uncertainty behind your words. “I love everything that you do. But I get it. You can play it to me when you’re ready.”

Even though Jaebum didn’t respond with anything – just looked at you – his eyes burned with all that he wanted you to know and, deep down, you felt like you understood him perfectly. Frankly, you were afraid of all the same things and, sometimes, finding the right words – however obvious they were – to express yourself and to cause that fear to dissipate, didn’t come easy. You knew that better than anyone as you procrastinated on the confession of truth – yet again – out of fear of disrupting the Sunday night bliss.

Finally, long after the pizza was finished and the movie – and the sequel that you couldn’t stop yourselves from watching – was completed, you and Jaebum started to stretch. Laying in one spot and barely breathing could have easily mummified a person. Jaebum yawned, stretching his hands above his head, and then turned to you.

“Can I tell you something?” he said, his eyes red and hazy from the intense staring at the computer screen.

“Of course,” you replied, his yawn contagious. “Anything.”

He sat up before continuing, the bones somewhere in his spine cracking uncomfortably.

“I thought…” he started to say and felt himself run into a brick wall inside of his mind. He’d tried to find the right way to say this all throughout the night – not wanting to scare you but also not wanting to seem like a pathetic loser, either – but actually opening his mouth to speak still wielded no good results. “No, you know what? Nevermind. It’s dumb.”

The longer he hesitated before speaking, the more your curiosity was taking the best of you.

“Hey, come on,” you encouraged. “Tell me.”

“No, it’s stupid, really, I just—”

“You got me all excited now! Tell me,” you insisted.

Figuring that this might happen, Jaebum sighed in defeat. “Fine. I… I thought you might have done something.”

Although you were not at all sure what he was hinting at, your heart still seemed to drop right into the pit of anxiety brewing at the bottom of your stomach.

“What?” you asked. “What do you mean? What have I done?”

He was shaking his head as soon as you started to speak, realizing now that he should have started with something else. Point-blank accusations rarely ever ended well and he felt like the one he had thrown at you was beyond stupid. Yet, for some reason, he still wanted to talk to you about this.

“No, it’s just—the way you’ve been acting, you know?” he tried to say, smiling for more effect. Although, the only effect his smile had was a great increase in your levels of anxiety. “Like, I know I said I don’t want you to philosophize about anything anymore but… all of this secrecy and these half-answers you’ve been giving me whenever I asked you about how your exhibition was going… I just thought you dropped it or something and were too afraid to tell me.”

You weren’t expecting him not to notice your behavior at all – he was far too perceptive for that – but, somehow, you’d naively hoped he wouldn’t bring it up.

“The exhibition?” you clarified, caught off guard. “N-no, I haven’t dropped it. That’s still… well, I hope it’s still happening.”

“Okay. I mean, don’t get offended or anything, I’m just being paranoid,” he said and then, with a nonchalant chuckle, added, “but I really thought you either dropped the exhibition, or… or you actually did have to sleep with someone to get it.”

Finally, you looked up from the hole that you’ve dug for yourself by omitting the truth from him, and realized how deep it was. You could barely see the surface anymore.

“W-where did you even—” you tried to ask but Jaebum jumped in to explain himself.

“It’s because of that conversation we had the other day,” he said. “When you asked me how far I was willing to go in order to—”

Suddenly panicking because, apparently, you’d let Jaebum come to some shocking conclusions—that weren’t all that far from the truth—without meaning to, you waved your hands in dismissal and tried to cut in.

“Oh, no, I was just—”

“Yeah, I told you it was stupid,” he spoke over you, his warm gaze trying to calm you down, albeit unsuccessfully. The raw ends of your nerves were flickering with anxious electricity. “I was just worried about you. I want to know what’s going on. You’ve been with me every step of the way, you know the names of everyone at my agency, basically. I want to be the same for you. But, forget it, I’m just being dumb.”

He stopped talking and, although no more than five seconds could have passed before you opened your mouth to speak, it felt like you could have counted to a million and back in the time that neither of you spoke. The silence was so thick with all the things you haven’t told him – and were, evidently, about to spill – that you could barely breathe, let alone find a way to soften the blow you were about to strike Jaebum with.

You started, your throat hurting with every word, “you’re not being dumb. There’s…. There actually is something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you a while ago.”

The electricity from your body seemed to transfer onto his as Jaebum’s face paled all of a sudden. “Oh, wow.”

“What?”

He grasped his chest over his shirt. “I think I’m having a heart attack.”

“What?” you gasped, frowning. “W-why?”

“Carry on!” he encouraged abruptly. “You can’t just start a sentence like that a-and with this… this expression on your face. You look like you’re about to tell me you’ve found a basement with a hundred rotting bodies inside of it and you’ve been trying to find a way to bring them all back to life.”

“No, it’s not that,” you shook your head, far too nervous to acknowledge how ludicrous that statement sounded or even joke about how he obviously thought you were cosplaying as Frankenstein on the side. “It’s—it’s nothing serious, really. I’m blowing this way out of proportion and I shouldn’t have waited so long to tell you, I just—”

“Out with it, please,” he pleaded. “My poor heart.”

You were absolutely driving him out of his mind – and body, by the looks of it; he looked like he was ready to astral project into three different dimensions at the same time – but you simply could not find the right words. In fact, you didn’t think such words even existed anymore – it was far too late to let Jaebum know about Jiho slowly and convince him that it wasn’t a big deal.

“Right, right, sorry,” you said and then cleared your throat. “Well, erm, see, the person who ended up contacting me—the, uh, the agent from the gallery we’ve been to? It’s… it’s actually someone I know.”

“Someone you know?” Jaebum frowned. He’d been expecting a huge revelation that was going to blow his mind and he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with what you’ve told him. His nerves wouldn’t let you explain, however, as he burst into a tirade of confused questions, “what, like a professor from college or something? Are you saying this is some sort of photographer-version of insider trading? Do you think they only invited you to meet with them because they know you? Because, let me tell you right now, that’s not—”

“No, Jaebum,” you stopped him. “It’s Jiho.”

One impossibly loud heart beat later, Jaebum blinked his eyes and shut his mouth. “Hmm?”

“That agent,” you clarified, your voice fading. “T-the person responsible for my exhibition. It’s Jiho. I-I’ve been working with him.”

He stared at you and you swore you’ve never been more scared of anything in your life like you were scared—petrified, really—of the utterly blank look in his eyes. You usually struggled with reading his emotions but, at the very least, you knew there were emotions to look for. Right now you couldn’t find a single one.

“I didn’t tell you sooner because I was afraid of your reaction,” you chose to add after a yet another ridiculously long pause.

“Why?” Jaebum asked. There was a change to his voice and the room got unbearably chilly. “What did you think I was going to do?”

“I don’t know. I know you don’t like him and I just—I know it’s nothing, I was just nervous,” words spilled out of your mouth as you focused on how vulnerable his empty eyes made you feel. You had no guesses about what he was going to do or say next. “A-and I didn’t want to ruin your mood when everything with your career seemed to be going so well.”

“W-why would that ruin my mood?” he shrugged his shoulders. The nonchalant act he was putting on was so incredibly transparent, you could almost taste the bitterness on his tongue.

“Well, you know,” you said, all of the excuses you’ve come up with had escaped you. “It’s, uh… I had to go to these events with him. For publicity. Like I’ve told you.”

“Ah,” Jaebum nodded, slowly sitting up and taking his feet off the bed. “So, you’ve been fake-dating Jiho is what you’re saying.”

You’ve been blessed with never having to experience standing at gunpoint before. But sitting right here and telling Jaebum all that you should have told him days ago, felt an awful lot like talking in front of a loaded sniper. And now that he’d gotten up, you thought you could see his finger approach the trigger.

“I—” you started to say but Jaebum interrupted.

“And you didn’t tell me because you were afraid of my reaction,” he repeated, heading for the door.

You lowered your head as a half-nod. “Y-yes, I didn’t want—w-where are you going?”

He didn’t stop crossing the hallway as he called out in an eerily calm tone, “just to get a drink.”

“A drink? We have—Jaebum?” you leaped off the bed when he still didn’t stop and ran after him, making sure to keep a respectable amount of distance between you two. Not because he scared you when he was like this but because you felt like he didn’t want you that close right now. “Jaebum, please.”

His voice was like static when he spoke – no signs of what he was feeling whatsoever.

“Please what?” he said. “I’m getting water.”

He really was and, even though you could still remember watching him reach for the glasses on the top shelf of the cabinet the very first time you’ve had breakfast together, now you realized you’ve never seen the strained muscles of his back look so menacing.

“No, but I can see the way your muscles are clenched. You look like you want to punch… something,” you pointed out quietly.

“I do not,” he replied with his back turned to you as he turned the tap on, not bothering to switch it to cold water, and poured some into his glass. He took a sip but it looked like he couldn’t taste anything.

“Jaebum—”

“So, these events, then,” Jaebum turned around, putting the glass down so vehemently, you thought it was going to crack. “How many of them have you gone on with him as your date?”

Your teeth grazed against your tongue as you swallowed.

“He wasn’t my—n-not many, just a few, really,” you said, trying desperately to find something else to add to make this sound less awful. “But I’m not doing them anymore. I told him so. I gave him an ultimatum.”

“And Jackson,” Jaebum concluded, remembering what you’ve mentioned earlier. “You ran into him while you were out with Jiho, yeah?”

“I-I—”

He was already walking past you before you could reply, dropping his coldest sentence yet, “I have to go.”

You wanted to grab his hand and stop him but, sensing your intentions, he crossed his arms before he quickened his pace towards his coat, hanging in the hallway.

“Go?” you asked, almost running after him. “Go where? It’s—”

“I have to go,” he repeated sternly, not wasting his time to even glance at you as he tossed his coat over his shoulders, not bothering with the sleeves.

“Jaebum—let me explain, it’s really not a big deal,” you pleaded, the hopeless tone in your voice doing nothing but making him reach for the handle of the door faster. “Jaebum, it’s—Jaebum!”

He slammed the door shut before the last syllable of his name could pass your lips. In the dreadful silence that he left in his wake, you realized that his smell, that had comforted you every day for months that you’ve lived here, and your heart, that had, really, been his all along, had left the apartment with him.

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shades4dogs · 4 years

Text

i had a SUPER tiring day i mite talk abut later but RIGHT NOW i wanna talk about the make it sweet! album for Um Jammer Lammy because i listtened to than a couple days ago, and just today i showed it 2 my little brother, and i wanted to write down what i thought about the tracks!!

youtube

i wrote down my personal thoughts on each track and gave it a rating out of 5 Dashies (-= It’s because i’m autistic plain and simple

if you read all of this you’re officially a legend

[1/2) Let’s Jam Together!/KEEP YOUR HEAD UP!!] - waow!!!

I LOVE THIS SONG <3 i really liked this song when i heard it in the credits and was wondering what its name was, it was nice to hear it in the album as the very first track!!

i love the additional dialogue at the start, the “Hey, do you play the guitar? Let’s jam together!” really represents the ragtaginess of the band just kind of throwing themselves together to make music so naturally... like little jigsaw pieces... it makes me want to know exactly how they interacted before the formation of MilkCan, how long they’d known each other/how they had known each other, or if they met right as they made the band.

the playful and funny lyrics of this song are really great, and i like the way it trails off in the middle. like the song was just Katy Kat truly venting off her frustrations and heartbreak about someone she used to like.

i wonder who exactly Katy Kat is talking about here in this song... well anyways she’s got lammy now so all’s well (-=

the second portion’s lyrics sound a little dopey and off-key, but i think it reflects katy’s mood regarding the lyrics of how easy her life used to be, and it all comes together beautifully for the chorus reprise with some pretty strings (i love strings in rock music!)

i bet this kind of music really resonated with some young girls listening. Can’t relate however as I hate men.

overall this is a 5/5 dashies! “Amazing!”

[3) FRIGHT FLIGHT!!] - LOOK UP IN THE SKY.

THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVOURITE SONGS IN THE GAME! when it started obviously i was expecting fussenpepper, and it was shocking to hear katy kat singing it

i think this is one of the covers that katy kat’s voice matches the most! her voice really fits shouting like that, it’s really hyped up

my favourite line from her cover is the “Now it’s time to move on, it only gets much harder, so carry on!”

and obviously i love hearing her say “Now do you like munchies? I wonder where lunch is!”

i do think that captain fussenpepper’s voice suits the song better than her, because it was made with him, but her voice definitely shines on this track!

overall this is a 4/5 dashies! “Really Good!”

[4) BABY BABY!!] - Imagine kids singing this on a car trip with their parents looking dead inside in the front seats.

I USED TO NOT LIKE THIS SONG. but playing it myself really warmed me up on it, and this version on the album made me like it even more!! i love katy kat’s additional lines between the baby’s, she suits giving those secondary vocals and they add a whole additional layer to the song.

i also like that the baby’s lyrics kind of echo over lammy’s guitar parroting, like you can hear the “... ma ma ma ma” coming in at the end of her first part, it sounds really nice!

this is the song i can really imagine kids shouting the lyrics to at a birthday party or something and i think they knew that when they added it O_O

overall this is a 4.5/5 dashies! “Almost Perfect!” i think it would’ve been cooler if the lammy and katy kat parts were more integrated with eachother. don’t ask me how exactly, because i don’t know, and maybe they didn’t either... it still came out REALLY nice!

[5) FIRE FIRE!!] - Aweome where is chief puddle? )-=

i think that this is my favourite song in the entire game, altho that will change depending on what day you ask me it, and a big part of it is fire chief puddle’s vocals and the brass and sound effects of the song

it kind of sucks that a lot of that seems lacking in katy’s version, although i like that it kind of seems like theres more emphasis on the percussions of it!

i don’t like the distant whispery vocals on the “Put it on the fire, feel good, Put it out cold and feel good”, it sounds really weird. because those lyrics are one of my favourites in the original song with chief puddle. i’d definitely rather listen to his version

overall this is a 3/5 dashies! “It’s Good!” i like katy’s vocals, but they definitely come out better on other tracks, and i miss chief puddle.

[6) PJ Berri Jam] - Much Love To The Funny Bear That Make’s Me Smile.

title made me a lot more excited for this song than i ended up feeling about it... OBVIOUSLY NO INSULT TO PJ’S JAM BUT IT WOULD HAVE BEEN COOL TO HAVE A BEAT WITH ORIGINAL LYRICS instead of just lines from the one cutscene...

it’d have been cooler if it was longer too, but i understand why it wasn’t, because the instrumentals work best in this little snippet instead of long-term where they’d definitely require more lyrics

i like that it sounds like the Fire Fire! parappa version considering that’s his first stage! i don’t know if there’s any verification to this, but it makes me think that the beats for all of parappa’s songs in Um Jammer Lammy are made by PJ, which is just really nice to think about... he’s so skilled ;_; PJ and parappa’s iconic collabs...

i don’t know how to rate this at all, but for the headcanon it gave me, i’m giving it a 4/5 dashies! “Really Good!”

[7) BIRTH SONG] - i wouldn’t play for someone else

EXTREMELY FUNNY NAME

i think i like the choir vocals of the song in the cutscenes, but i definitely love katy’s voice in this one, it sounds really sweet

i can’t remove it from the weirdness of the scenario (the first time i saw that shit i was so goddamn baffled) but this does actually Make It Sweet!

i love how her voice sounds in the chorus, and the last line (“Our newest little baby!”) sounds really nice in her voice!!

IDK EXACTLY HOW TO DESCRIBE IT... her vocals just seem... sweetly genuine? like not that she’s really invested in what she’s saying, but just that she’s really enjoying singing it in a small and cute way? IDK... EITHER WAY i like it!

i like the additional lyrics as well! extensions to parappa/ujl songs should always be welcomed i think.

overall i rate this a 3.5/5 dashies! “Pretty Good!” weird song made fun and sweet by katy kat, thank you so much!

[8) THEME OF RAMMY] - music that makes you cause problems

yesssss YESSSSSSS YESSSSSSSSSS

WHEN I GOT TO THIS TRACK IT BECAME ONE OF MY NEW FAVOURITES OF THE WHOLE GAME!

i love the ditzy yet cool lull of the electric guitar, it sounds playful and silly, but with the aesthetic of the instruments used in the song it sounds awesome at the same time.

the strings throughout the song following the rhythm of that guitar add a slight classical feel to it as well that i really like, a level of elegance in contrast to the next part i describe

the muffled and staticy electric guitar parts sound so discordant, yet perfectly in control at the same time, and very In-Your-Face as they just come and go at random over the base sillysong. i really really like that, and it shows off Rammy’s fiery attitude!

i really love how the violent clash of the instruments seems to come together so well in this. it is a really well-made song that made me like Rammy more than i did previously. i think people who know me well will understand that i really like strings in otherwise intense songs, like violins and stuff, so i was really happy to hear some!

FULLY HONESTLY, MY ONLY WISH? is that it was longer. LOL

as an aside, the lull i described reminds me way too much of the theme for sam and max’s office in the TTG series. which obviously is a very personal reason to like the song more, but it is a reason for me NoneTheLess.

overall this gets a 5/5 dashies! “Amazing!”

[9) CASINO IN MY HAIR] - texan ear worm signs.

PAUL CHUCK COME GET YOUR SONG

ALSO THIS SONG BELONGS TO SANDY CHEEKS.

katy kat’s voice fits this song EXTREMELY SURPRISINGLY WELL! i like that she puts on the accent and everything, the rhythm of the lyrics and her enthusiasm go together so NICE!

i like the expansion of the lyrics and the repetition of it is one of its strengths, like any song of that kind (hopefully)

it’s a really big earworm for me, and every so often ill just sing out “Where’s that place that comes in pairs whenever I’m aware? Casino here, casino there, casino in my hair!” VERY SIMPLE YET VERY CATCHY

Yee Haw!

overall i rate this a 4.5/5 dashies! “Super Cool!” it couldn’t be better, but i wouldn’t say it’s one of the best, just for the sheer quality of the other songs i’ve given 5/5 to so far

SIDENOTE - [10) Radio Signal Jam] - F*ck you

OK. i like the presentation of this as if it’s playing live on a radio. it’s a nice little additional flavour to the whole thing that i enjoy immensely. HOWEVER.

nothing can match my disappointment at the next song not being Master Onion’s song. My heart will forever be broken by this traitorous deception. I was promised Tamanegi Sensei. Where is he! WHERE IS HE!!! WAS HE TO BUSY GAMBLING?? COME BACK I LOVE YOU

O-K let’s move on

[11) TASTE OF TERIYAKI] - songs that have mood swings

this song baffles me. i definitely get what they were trying to do with the intro portions with the dramatic quiet, the focus on the vocals and guitar with the creeping and echoing drums and reverberating electronic sounds

it could’ve been really cool, but for the most part it frankly sounds sh*t.

if they could’ve gotten some line re-dos from Teriyaki’s singer to match the lower tempo, it definitely would have sounded most excellent. But the use of the lyrics from the high-tempo song here is just jarring. when i showed this to my brother he genuinely just started laughing from how bad it sounded.

BUT HERE’S WHERE I CAN’T JUST RULE IT AS A BAD SONG.

THE SUDDEN SHIFT INTO THE HIGH TEMPO. IT IS BEAUTIFUL. IT ADDS SO MUCH EXTRA POWER TO THE CHORUS OF THE SONG. i like the song more with the brass and the backup singers, but this genuinely sounds so goddamn cool.

i LOVE the additional lines from teriyaki, it makes them sound even more like an idol! they sound amazing!

And then it stops. Back to the slow nonsense. I am left to dream of what could’ve been. i will say this one sounds better than the other one. Possibly because it’s shorter.

AND THEN THE AWESOME SONG COMES BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND I’M LIKE YEAH WOO!!!!! i love the additional discordant sounds in this version, and i like that they did sometimes include the cool SHHH-PSHHH slap-ish sound in the chorus for this portion. the da da da DA DA! being with guitars instead of brass used to disappoint me, but the more i hear it here, the more i like it.

and then my favourite part of the song: the backup vocals combined with a fast rattling-off of teriyaki’s vocal lines from parappa’s version. this sounds godlike. This is the best. I roll around in circles listening to and thinking about this part. the fact that it fades out right as it gets to that breaks my heart into little pieces.

and then it’s over...

i think it’s very fitting that the song that takes over the album out of nowhere and is literally from hell is the most baffling and loved/hated by me. i don’t think i’ve ever been able to truly say that i both love and hate a song.

if someone was good enough at editing to combine this with the actual version of the song, as well as the vocal lines from parappa’s version, into an essentially extended cut of the album version without the weird slow parts, i would be forever indebted to them.

overall i rate this a ???/5 dashies. ”Help!” it flipflops way too much for me to give a number. Thank you Teriyaki Yoko.

[12) POWER OFF! POWER ON!] - HYYYYYYPE

i need to say it. this song has the coolest sounds in the entire game. this is one of the songs that i might abruptly decide is my favourite for a day or so and then go back to Fire Fire! or Taste of Teriyaki (game version). the guitar is most exquisite in this song.

my little brother adores this song, and a big part of that is credited to the silly vocals of Paul Chuck. he’s like Goofy but extra lethal. i love him

ANYWAYS. after Fire Fire! i was concerned that this song’s vocals would be replaced entirely by Katy, but it seems like they understood Paul Chuck’s integral nature to the charm of the song, and so we get a back-and-forth of them both singing lines, with lammy playing in between. it sounds REALLY good!

i like the additional lines by Chuck at the beginning during the intro. they’re a nice little bonus for the three Paul Chuck fans that exist (two being me and my brother)

as always, gotta love katy kat’s vocals!! they definitely benefit from being combined with the vocals of the original song. the chorus parts where they both sing in unison sound AWESOME!!! i wonder if the Fire Fire! cover would have benefited from this alternation....

the filter over the “NEVER USE JOE CHIN’S CHAIN’S FOR THEM!” really adds to it as well! i like that addition.

by the way my favourite line from this song is the “All I wanna hear is you’ve come over here, there’s no fooling around with gears!” it just has such a good flow. not really explicitly related to this version specifically, maybe less so since i prefer it with Chuck’s voice over Katy’s, but yeah.

this song is really hard for me in-game. like, more than any other song i think, apart from Taste of Teriyaki. which i would like to thank this song for allowing me to escape from (-=

this gets a 5/5 Dashies and a “DA-HYUCK!” from me!

[13) WE ARE MILKCAN!!] - Woaah My Head Is Spinning!

another original that only plays during the cutscenes, understandably without the vocals. i liked it then, and i like it even more now!

katy’s lyrics add SO SO MUCH to the high-tempo intensity of the introduction to this song, and the chaos of the entire thing makes it really fun to listen to

i do still enjoy the slower parts of this song! i can imagine katy singing this as the events she describe happen in real time. i really like listening to her try to encourage lammy and ma-san to get it together and play with her.

the bouncing between the full music of her lines contrasting with the quiet and dinky replies of ma-san and lammy makes this track really fun to listen to!

after that part, it goes back to sounding like the intro portion again, but increases in tempo drastically overtime, before suddenly slowing down again and then launching into high speed at random. it’s a really fun and theatrical and dramatic piece to listen to!!!

personally though, it’s not so much my thing based on the sound alone. it’s definitely a great song but i like things a little more relaxed and orderly than this. the quality of it comes from the lyrics and the emotions they manage to carry through with the instrumentals. its a really good glimpse into the nature and personality of MilkCan!

i give this song a 4/5! “Really Good!” there’s nothing i’d suggest to improve this song. it’s just a little to hectic for me, and feels more like music for a theatrical play than any other track. i generally don’t like that kind of stuff (altho there’s definitely exceptions)

SIDENOTE - [14) Jam Chin] - F*ck you eggplant head saunaman.

You disrespected Parappa. You disrespected Sunny Funny and her sweet smile. You have disrespected MilkCan.

Thank you Ma-San for killing this man. I love U.

[15) GOT TO MOVE! (Millennium Girl)

the final song... i knew it would be Got To Move... it makes COSMIC sense

i like the additional little part before the song begins giving some time to breathe in before my head starts screaming in excitement at this song.

this is an AMAZING song and another one of my little brother’s favourites! he likes to sing it! it’s not one of my favourites but it’s definitely revered with me. it’s a sheer quality song and the one that best captures the soul of MilkCan!!

and i have to say. this album version made me like it EVEN MORE. at first i was enjoying the regular song, but then in the second part PARAPPA comes in with the alternate lines from his version in-between Katy Kat’s lines. it is SO SO SO cool. i often think about how songs in the game would sound with parappa’s versions incorporated in some fashion like this and it comes out so EPIC!!

it seriously made me pog SO hard when i heard him coming in. SOOOO exciting!

some thought notes about this song:

i really like the guitar during the portion leading up to the chorus, it sounds really cool.

katy’s singing in the chorus itself is the best of ALL her singing! her voice blends perfectly with the tone, the pitch shifts, the vibes... angellic truly

parappa‘s lyrics in-between add such an awesome additional energy, especially the lyrics that go on a little longer, like “But let me give you a word of advice, it seems like a waste of time, but it’s nice!” those lines shine the most to me.

my other favourite part is the rapid backforth in the later part of the chorus, especially the “GO! ON! MOVE! ON!” between katy’s lines. it goes together IMPECCABLY

it should be obvious, but this song gets a 5/5 Dashies from me! “Amazing!” it truly blew me away, just like the 5/5 Dashie portions of Taste of Teriyaki did. i love the fact that Parappa’s lines are slightly more muted and behind a bit of a filter to make sure the focus is on Katy’s iconic lines, but are clear enough to be enjoyed.

Truly Thank U so much if you read this far... i love u so mach.... thank you for listening to me ramble about my current hyperfix <3 (-=

#txt #ptr #um jammer lammy #autism moment

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