#second ensemble post these tags will never not get tiring to write out

[kutemouse]

Hello love, i want to request namjoon drabble.. 'He always forgets date night' and yn getting tired about it 🍭🍭

Supposedly Necessary Disclaimer: The above gif was made and edited by me, kutemouse. That is why I’ve posted this under the tag #btsgif. Feel free to use this gif however you want, just please give me credit for the edit. I made it from the commercial BTS did for the LG G7 Thinq phone, all credit to them and BigHit.

Well hello love! Okay, so your request didn’t ask for fluff, angst, or smut so I kinda took some liberties with it? Haven’t written smut in a while, so I put some of that in. Don’t worry, it’s hella light… However. If anyone wants a part two with full-on, delicious, downright dirty smut, I will gladly write one 😈 Hell, I might just write one anyways, ‘cause sex with Joon is *chef’s kiss* especially in this kind of scenario 😉 I always imagine him as a sweetly passionate lover. Anyways, hope you like kutie anon! 💜

Age Recommendation: 18+ (When I say “recommendation,” I mean hard-and-fast rule, especially for one-shots like this one)

Warnings: You being all pissy, some angst, some sweet fluff, hecka light smut like nothing more than you’d see or hear about in a PG-13 movie, making out, Joon’s delicious lips, mentions of lingerie. SWEARS (duh).

Word Count: 1,124

“The flame that burns twice as bright burns half as long.” ~ Lao Tzu 

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Red Flame (Namjoon Drabble, Light Smut, Bit ‘O Angst, Bit O’ Fluff) Part One

You sat on the couch, your arms folded, your lips tightened in a pout. He forgot. Again. You were so tired of this. You knew your boyfriend was a famous idol, but the production of this latest album was slowly draining your relationship from a roaring wave of passion and love to a trickle of anger and disappointment.

Really though, you weren’t asking for much. Just for him to be home in time for a nicely cooked dinner that you made from scratch and some long-overdue romance. You even put on a cute little dress for him, hoping to drive him crazy enough to realize what he was missing. That, however, was nothing compared to the red-hot ensemble you had underneath the dress.

You sighed and stood up, blowing out the candles that were already melted to stubs. You put the leftovers of the meal you made into containers and put those in the fridge. The silence coming from your bedroom mocked you as you walked into it. You were just about to unzip and toss away your dress when you heard the front door open.

“Baby girl?” his voice called out.

You turned, anger setting in. Oh hell no. He doesn’t get to “baby girl” you after completely forgetting date night.

The sounds of your bare feet coming down the hall sounded like a death march to Namjoon. He knew he screwed up. Yoongi had kept him in the studio to hash out the lyrics for their final track, making him totally lose track of time. Luckily, Namjoon had thoughtfully picked up a bouquet of red roses on his way home in an effort to try and make up for what he did.

The roses did give you pause, and you almost smiled as he offered them to you, one side of his mouth turned up. Could you really be mad at that cute face, especially when he brought you flowers? When he looked like a total snacc in that blue button-up paired with tight jeans? When his dark hair was parted just enough to expose the golden skin of his forehead?

You shook your head slightly and set your frown like cement. Hell yes you could be mad, and this time, you were determined to let him have it.

“Why are you late?” you snapped.

Namjoon winced at your harsh tone. “I’m so sorry, baby girl, I was in the studio with Yoongi and we–”

“I don’t care.” You cut him off.

He rolled his eyes, fanning the flame of your anger into a full-out fire. “Baby, you just asked me why I was late. Don’t cut me off when I’m answering your question.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you retorted. “Especially after you forgot date night again.”

“I didn’t forget, I’m just late.”

“As if that’s any better!”

Your voice rose and Namjoon held his hands up. “Enough,” he said calmly. His placid tone only served to infuriate you more.

“No it is not enough!” you growled. “I’m sick of this, Joon! I planned out dinner, I made it all myself, took hours to do so, the least you could do is–”

He cut you off by rushing towards you, smothering your lips with his as his large hands grasped either side of your face. You grunted in surprise, your eyes wide, before you melted like wax into the kiss.

Your lips broke apart, and before you could meld them back together, Joon whispered, “I’m really sorry, baby,” and began kissing down your jaw. Your anger fettered out like a flame that had no more wick left to burn as his lips moved to your neck, feathery light yet hard at the same time.

“God I love you,” he murmured and kissed back up to your lips. This time, the kiss he gave you was less sweet and more spice. He roughly pushed his mouth around yours, hungrily devouring you. This. This is what you had been waiting for all day. No, all week. Hell, all month. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip, making you gasp and allow it to slip in and tangle with yours.

He groaned and walked you backwards to the couch, holding you steady as you both collapsed on it, mouths and tongues still mingled together. Joon separated himself from you with a groan, kneeling in between your legs as he slid to the ground. “I know I screwed up,” he murmured, touching your face and stroking a thumb across your cheek.

His dark eyes bore into yours, filled to the brim with lust and love. “But I want you to know how much I appreciate your effort, baby. You did all this for me, you wore this dress…” he tapered off with a growl, smoothing his hands down your hips and thighs, intermittently squeezing. “For me.”

“Then why let it all go to waste?” you whispered. Despite the heat wave covering your entire body, you were still disappointed. This night had definitely not gone the way you wanted it to.

Namjoon gave you a smile. “It’s not going to waste, baby. We can still make tonight a good one. And I promise you, on pain of death, I will do everything I can to make it on time next time.”

“What if there’s not a next time?” you said, only half-teasing. You kind of meant it. If he wasn’t going to show up for date night, then why put in any effort at all?”

“Oh, baby girl… After I make this up to you, you’ll want a next time for sure.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

Joon caught his lower lip between his teeth, slowly releasing it. You stared at the reddening flesh. “It is definitely so,” he said, his voice husky and deep.

You gave in, completely succumbing, realizing no matter what you did or how mad you were, that flame of anger would always burn out only to be replaced by a tidal wave of passion. That’s how it always was with Namjoon. You never had prolonged arguments, because the second he did something wrong, he owned up to it and made it up to you tenfold. Usually in a sexual way, but hell, you weren’t complaining.

Namjoon kissed you for a while longer before scooping you up, causing you to let out a shriek. “Don’t worry, baby girl,” he said, tossing you on your bed and clambering over you. “I’ll make you feel so good, you’ll forget all about how mad you were.”

You bit your lip, anticipation rising inside of you, making you clench your thighs together and your cheeks flush. Namjoon may not be the absolute perfect boyfriend… not even close. But he was perfect for you.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Again, if anyone wants a part two, please let me know! Hope you enjoyed 💜

[buchanannn]

Sleepless (Steve Rogers X Reader)

Summary: Steve can’t sleep, and you’re more than happy to help tire him out

Word Count: 3454

Warnings: SMUT, wee bit of angst, unprotected sex (why do I write it when I don’t support it, oral, lots of of, rough-ish sex, bit of ahem LANGUAGE from cap and u, naughty

A/N: this is like, one of the dirtier things I’ve written, I’m almost ashamed to post it but also like, why wouldn’t I? Y’know. Also I find that I make Steve super rough a lot idk why since he’s like a thicc string bean that probably only enjoys missionary lmao anyway nobody knows what it means but it’s provocative and it gets the people going hehe

When you first became an Avenger, you thought it would be fun to live in the compound. Like a massive sleepover with all of your best friends eating breakfast everyday, training together, watching movies together, making dinner. It was only when you actually moved in that you started to notice all the annoying things about living with a bunch of superheroes. Like Nat's tendencies to creep up on you when you had a hot coffee in your hand, or Tony's midnight explosions in the lab when he was tinkering in the early mornings. Your least favourite, however was Steve. Your quarters just so happened to share a wall with the gym, which had been fine in the beginning; you could sleep in and get to training in literally two seconds instead of the five minute walks that it took some of the others, you always had access to weights on your sleepless nights, the scent that the AI system constantly pumped the room with to get rid of the superhero sweat was absolutely delicious and constantly sept through the walls to your bedroom. Everything seemed like a plus side. And then Steve came along. You couldn't pinpoint when or why it happened, but one day he suddenly decided that he liked working out at night. Probably because the schedule was difficult and he loved having the place to himself. For the first week or so it was okay, you could deal with the quiet grunts and tiny shifts of the weights, that was fine. But then cardio came and the loud footsteps and the constant sound of his fist on a punching bag and suddenly, you couldn't take it.

You hadn't slept well in about two weeks, which wasn't fair in the slightest considering you'd had a total of zero missions. It was your rest time and Steve was ruining it. You had enough. You threw your covers off you, the rhythmic slap of his fist on the punching bag getting to be all to much. Padding across your living space to the apartments door, you swung it open with anger, stalking towards the gym door. You scanned your fingerprint on the scanner and frowned as you waited for your access to be granted. Steve didn't even notice you enter, his pace kept up without a missing beat as you stomped over to him. Once you were close enough to talk to him without it being too loud, you reached out to grab his shoulder. He jumped, his pace faltering as he swung around quickly.

"Christ, Y/N, you scared me." "Dude, I can't fucking sleep. I will literally give you my gym time if you stop fucking working out at night." You seethed. You didn't want to, you had the best work out time for you, when you were motivated in the morning, but you'd be more than willing to give it up if it meant a good nights rest. He looked from your face to the gym's wall and then his eyes widened. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I didn't even think about that- " You immediately felt guilty. Why did you need to yell at him when you could've simply spoken to him over breakfast or something? God you were such an asshole. Your face softened. "No, it's okay. I just haven't been able to sleep."

"Me neither. Hence," he motioned toward the gym equipment. You furrowed your brows. "Why can't you sleep?" He rubbed the back of his neck. "I've been having nightmares."

You looked down at the polished concrete floors with a feeling of shame in your stomach. It couldn't have been easy for him, he'd lost so much. Been through hell and back. When you looked back up your eyes trailed his body. He was wearing only grey sweatpants, dog tags hanging around his neck and swinging across his sweaty torso. His hair fell messily in his face and dark bags hung under his eyes. You were too busy thinking about yourself that you hadn't noticed him.

"I'm sorry, Steve. I'm really sorry. Do, I dunno, do you wanna come and sit with me? So you're not alone." You suggested. It was the least you could do.

"No, no, it's fine. I don't wanna intrude." He Bega to unwrap the bandages from around his fists. "I've kept you up enough." Without more than a goodnight, he began out of the gym. You were left standing in the cold concrete room, feeling like shit.

The next night, there was no sound in the gym. If it weren't for the twisting of your stomach, you could've slept. But now you were kept up for a whole different reason. You chewed your lip, running a hand through your hair as you slid out of bed. This time, instead of the gym, you were going to talk to Steve somewhere else.

You knocked softly on his apartment door, the sliver of yellow light shining into the hallways from his room hinting to his state. He pulled open the door, wearing a similar ensemble from the night before minus the sweat. "Oh, hey." He smiled. He looked tired.

"I feel really bad about last night." You began. "It was super insensitive and like selfish. I didn't take into account what you were going through and I'm really sorry. You can work out whenever it's fine, really." He smiled softly, letting out a chuckle. "It's okay, Y/N. Seriously." "No, I was a dick." You dropped your eyes. "I mean, a little," he laughed. Your eyes snapped back to his defensively. "But you can make it up by coming to hang out with me?" You rolled your eyes with a wide smile. "Of course." He held the door for you, closing it softly after you were inside. His apartment was a bit of a mess, clothes strewn across the couch, random dumbbells placed across the floor and several sketch books open on the coffee table. "Yeah, sorry," he noticed your eyes. "Honestly, it's cleaner than my place." You laughed. He shook his head in disbelief. "I doubt that." You looked up at him, his slouched shoulders and sunken face barely recognisable. Without thinking, you reach up and press the pad of your thump to the crease between his furrowed brows, gently straightening out the wrinkles. His eyes glanced at you.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Steve." You pushed. You knew it was hard to open up, you'd been through years of trauma that you never wanted to speak about. But you also knew that talking helped. He shook his head as you dropped your hand.

"C'mon. You can trust me." You insisted.

He looked over quickly, scanning the features of your face. He let out a heavy, shaky sigh.

He shook his head as he spoke, as if he couldn't believe he was telling you. "I just, I can't forget these things. These dark, dark things. And I want to." You slipped an arm around his bare waist and lead him to the bed to sit. "What dark things?" "I don't dream anymore." He whispered. "I just remember. I saw my best friend die. And then I watched him try to kill me. I watched a man get sucked into space. I watched Tony sacrifice himself and then fall back to earth. I've killed people. People who were only doing their job. They didn't have any other choice and I killed them." "Hey," you hooked a finger under his chin forcing him to look at you. His eyes were glassy, filling with tears. "You're the good guy. You're Captain America." He broke his gaze from yours, closing his eyes as if he was ashamed. "We can't always be entirely good."

"But we try. You're the noblest person I know, Steve. And I've met a lot of people in my travels." You hesitated, his eyes moving back to yours. "I've killed people too. Good people. But we can't change that now. All we can do is be better. Repent. Grow. Save lives." Your words seemed to provide at least a little comfort. He even smiled, before his mind pulled him back into its darkest parts. "Saving lives doesn't give them back." "But it can balance out the good and bad. That's life. It's a balance. And no, we can't take back what we've done. But we can help restore the balance so evil doesn't triumph." You place a hand over his, offering a warm smile. "You're probably right." He nodded. You know he's not completely convinced and that's okay. It takes more than a pep talk to fix someone. All you can do is be present and support him. "I'm always right." You muttered. He laughed, a quick exhale from his nose. He looked down at your hand covering his and smiled distantly. He turned it over, palm up, and threaded his fingers with yours. He then looked up, blue eyes scanning your face.

"I know this may sound crazy, but can I kiss you?"

Your eyebrows shot upward mouth falling slightly ajar. You waited for the 'Just kidding' or the second thoughts, but his expectant stare didn't let up. "Y-yeah. Of course." That was all he needed. He leant toward you, kissing you softly, at first, and then deepening it as his hands moved to hold your face. You melted into him, his warm hands comforting you as you let yourself lean into him. It had never really crossed your mind, you and Steve, mostly because you never saw yourself as a desirable person, but also because he was your coworker and you were pretty sure that broke some bylaws. But his lips felt right in a way you hadn't felt before. Your hands skimmed down his chest and landed on his waist, his hands disappeared into your hair, twisting into it as he pulled your head closer to his. He used his grip on your hair to pull it slightly, causing your head to fall backward and expose your neck to him. He pressed light kisses down your jaw and to your collarbones, right hand keeping pressure of your hair as he moved. You hummed in appreciation as he moved to the neckline of your shirt. He removed his hands from your head to the hem of your t-shirt, he paused, his eyes returning to yours as if to ask if that was okay. You have him a slight nod and he made quick work of discarding the fabric.

He continued downward, your hands resting at the nape of his neck as he moved below your bellybutton. His hands shoved you back and the aggression was sudden, stirring something inside of you. When he locked eyes with you again you feel the intensity of the stare right down in your stomach. "Is this okay?" His words were sweet despite the hunger in his eyes. "Definitely." You affirmed. Not needing anymore, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and began tugging them down, the shifting of his position making his member very clear against the thin fabric of his sweatpants. You felt a stirring near your core as he tossed away your shorts so only your underwear were left. He appreciated the lacy black pieces you were wearing and you suddenly thanked god that it was laundry day and you'd chosen those over your period pantries. That would've really dampened the mood. You reached up to the waistband of his pants to pull them down but he pushed himself further away so he was out of your grip. Frowning, you watched as he dipped his head between your thighs and nipped at the material. He pressed his palm flat against your wetness and you let out a small moan of appreciation. His eyes flicked up to your face watching as your eyes fluttered shut. Using his middle finger, he nudged the material aside and dipped the tip into your folds. You tried to thrust up into him but his other hand on your waist kept you from moving. "Jesus," he mumbled. "You're fucking soaked."

You're cheeks flushed a bright pink at his words, embarrassed and shocked to hear something that filthy coming out of his mouth. You watched as he lifted his fingers to his mouth and lay them flat against his tongue, making a point of tasting you. He hummed, low, in appreciation and your cheeks flushed even darker. Your heart raced as his eyes peered into yours. Painfully slow, he moved his hand back to your core, pressing his first two fingers inside of your and beginning to circle his thumb around your clit. You let your head fall back against the mattress with a sigh, chest rising and falling heavily as he began to pump his fingers inside of you. He lowered his head, flattening his tongue against you as his fingers worked, the added attention to your over sensitive spot making you shudder. Your hands tangled in his hair and pulled him down closer to you as an instinct.

"Fuck, Steve," you choked out, his name feeling good on your tongue. He seemed to agree, letting out a quiet moan at the sound of it.

He pulled away, all too soon, and sat back on his heels. He peered down at you with a heaving chest, his gaze dark.

"Touch yourself." He instructed.

"What?" You didn't see the purpose of that when he was doing a perfectly fine job just two seconds ago.

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. You knew he wanted a show, but there was something hesitant in you, something that felt wrong about it. But it was what he wanted, so you did it. You moved your hands to your core, circling your fingers over you clit a few times before plunging your first finger inside yourself. You couldn't meet his eye, so instead you closed them and focused on what you were feeling. Your left hand balled up the sheets as your right hand went to town on yourself. You alternate between pumping your fingers inside yourself and stroking your clit until you were close to you orgasm, your chest heaved and your heart raced, small moans escaping your lips as you neared.

"Stop." He ordered, and although you'd never been one for authority, you did as you were told.

"Look at me." His voice was low. You opened your eyes to do as he ordered and found his head tilted slightly.

"Come here."

You sat up, quickly, crawling across the bed to him. He took ahold of your chin forcing you to keep eye contact.

His voice was low and husky as he spoke, the exhilaration and the waiting making him impatient. "I'm going to fuck you now. And it's going to be rough. If you want me to stop tell me. But otherwise, I'm going to hurt you. And you're going to like it."

Your heart rate picked up at his words. You had no idea he had this in him and you were intrigued. This sort of thing had never been your style but with Steve on the other end you wondered how it ever could have not been.

You nodded.

"Speak to me." He growled.

"Yes."

"Yes, captain." He seethed.

Your eyes widened and your face broke into a smile. So that's how he liked it?

"Yes , Captain." You bit down on your lower lip, trying to hide your smirk.

"Hands and knees." He instructed. He shifted as you abided, peeling his sweat pants from his legs and positioning himself behind you. Without further warning, he slammed into you, causing you to squeak a little. He gave you second to adjust to his size before he began slamming into you. The whole thing felt wrong, but so, so right. The sound of his skin slapping yours, his grunts, your long drawn out moans as the head of his cock his your g-spot at certain angles.

He picked up the pace, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises, as he slammed your waist back into him. You whimpered, choking out his name as he continuously slammed into your g-spot.

He took a hand from your waist and wrapped it around your throat, pulling you upward so your back was flush against your chest.

He craned his neck to kiss you, hard and dirty, not faltering his pace once as he pulled you closer to him. He massages the side of your throat with his fingers, cutting off some of your air supply but not enough to be dangerous. Suddenly, he grabbed your waist and flipped you like a rag doll. He took your left leg and stretched it above his shoulder, as once again, he slammed into you without warning.

"Oh my god, Steve. Ugh, fuck. Jesus. Oh god." You reached up to grab his bicep as if it would anchor you. You could barely breathe, the pleasure causing your body to shake. You could feel yourself nearing your orgasm, you breath hitching. All of a sudden he stopped thrusting, pulling out of you upon hearing the change in your breathing. Your hand moved to your clit to keep going in his absence but he ceased your wrist roughly.

"Did I say you could do that?" He growled, ceasing your other arm and pinning it above your head.

"I was about to cum." You sighed, frustrated.

"And did I say you could do that?" He moved his face closer to your ear.

"No, captain."

"Blow me."

You met his eyes as he pulled back, frustrated that he wouldn't let you finish but was happy to finish himself. But you complied, somewhat happily, moving onto your elbows and knees to take his length into your mouth. You took your time, licking long stripe up the shaft, but Steve was too impatient. He gathered your hair into his fist and pulled you off of him with a yank. He bucked his hips up into your mouth, causing you to gag slightly. He let out a low hum of appreciation at the sight and you smirked. This man was full of surprises. You took him in your mouth again, this time making an effort to swallow every inch of him. His body tensed as you swallowed around his throbbing head, bucking up into your throat and moaning long and low. You pulled off of him, only to push yourself down again and allow him you take control of your mouth. You expected him to finish there, but he didn't, his breathing hitched and he pulled you off of him, his fist pumping over his cock several times to finish himself off. He spilled himself over your face, his cum landing in stripes over your jawline and chin, a couple drops on your lips. You darted your tongue out to taste him, his moan affirming your actions wordlessly.

"Your turn." He grinned, moving his head down to your core and plugging his tongue in. Your over sensitive, orgasm denied cunt was dripping as he worked his mouth over you. You whimpered as he moved his mouth across your folds and your clit, pulling you closer and closer to your finish.

"Oh my god, Steve. Fuck yes. Like that."

You balled the sheets beneath you, spilling over into his mouth. He continued to pleasure you, drawing out your orgasm until you finally choked out your last moan. Your body shook and total euphoria took over your mind for a moment. You wondered if you blacked out. You wondered why you'd never had an orgasm like that before. You had an itching feeling that it was one that only Steve could deliver.

He moved his mouth up to kiss you and you tasted yourself on his tongue. His own cum smeared across his chin but you could tell he didn't care he just wanted to kiss you. He pulled away suddenly, vacating the room and entering the small door that led to the bathroom. You heard the shower a few moments later and before you could even stand, Steve was back and scooping you up. He only set you down once the two of you were stood under the stream of the shower. You washed off the sweat and cum and filth from your body and leant into his chest. His hands were gentle and sweet on you now and it was hand to believe he was the same man from five minutes ago.

“That,” He whispered, barely loud enough over the streaming water. “Was so much better than a work out.”

You chuckled lightly, brushing back his wet hair from his forehead. “Agreed. Same time tomorrow night?”

[queencatherynerhys]

Blast To The Past - Liam x MC Fanfic

A/N: I am so excited for this giveaway fanfic #2. This is for you, @katrina86. Thank you for the amazing idea! This is a time travel. Again, credits go to the writing prompt list from @laniquelove. This is #49: Time Travel. I decided to the Roaring Twenties because I love the Great Gatsby era. It was one of my favorite books that I read in high school. Besides who doesn’t love Leonardo DiCaprio? Hope you love it. I did a lot of research for this, so I’m sorry for the delayed post, @katrina86. I also provided lingo dictionary so you don’t get confused with the language.

Summary: What happens when Liam sees a falling star and makes a wish?

Tag List: @captainkingliam @decisso @devineinterventions2 @madaraism @theroyalweisme @drakewalkerwhipped @laniquelove @drakesfiance @hhiggs @hellospunkiebrewster @alicars @mrswalkerreynolds @mfackenthal @simplyaiden-blog @hopefulmoonobject @blackcatkita @cocomaxley @boneandfur @lizeboredom @crayziimaginations @umccall71 @zarina-x-zig @trianiasti @ranishajay @heatherfilliez @flyawayblue56 (using my normal tag)

“Quilt” – a drink that warms the drinker

“Phonus Balonus” – Nonsense!

“Dumb Dora” – an unintelligent woman

“Bubs” – boobs

“Dead soldier” – an empty drink

“Ankle on” – to walk

“Reuben” – a hick or redneck

“Half-seas over” – shitfaced

“Choice bit of calico” – a desirable woman

“Let’s blouse” – we’re out of here

 Liam stands on the balcony of his room, watching the clear, night sky. The stars gleam brightly against the dark background. He just finished packing for his weekend trip to New York City. His friends insisted that they have a proper bachelors party before he is thrown into the ordeal of the social season. He has never been to New York before, so before heading to his quarters he made a stop at the palace library.

He loved that place. It’s one of the few places he can feel close to his mother. She insisted that they fill the bookshelves with all kinds of books and novels. He searched for a book and found one titled “The Historical Atlas of New York City” written by Eric Homberger. As he sat in his balcony, he sifted through the content and pictures of the treasure trove in his hands. He was awed at the wonderful changes the Empire City has seen through every era. He particularly loved the 1920s, or the Roaring Twenties as it was dubbed. He admired the frilly dresses of the women and the vintage attire that the men sported.

Fatigue and anticipation starts to take its toll on him and he gets up to get ready to catch some sleep before leaving early tomorrow morning. A glow in the distant midnight sky catches his eyes. “Wow,” he admires as he watches a star fall from the sky. It was beautiful and serene. He heard that you could make a wish when you see a falling star. He thinks for a moment at the silliness of the idea but decides to make a wish. He remembers the picture of the women and men from the twenties and how they just looked content. He envies that. He wants freedom and some escape from his inevitable path to the throne.

He closes his eyes as he whispers his desire, “I wish to have freedom, even just for a small sliver of time. I wish to experience the same contentment that the people in the 1920s experienced.” He sighs deeply as he released yearning to the universe.

It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep once his body touches the soft comfort of his king-sized mattress. He descends into a deep sleep, something that was new to him since he usually slept light. Morning comes sooner than usual, and Liam stirs awake. He feels his sheet and notice the difference. It’s not as smooth and soft as his normal ones. Maybe I am just tired. He sits up and rubs the blur away from his eyes.

The sight before him clears and he stands abruptly. What the hell? He is not in his room. The bedroom he is in small and mediocre. The walls are painted with an off-white color. An awful blue curtain with paisley patterns drapes the windows. The full-sized bed sits against the wall with a wooden drawer is situated across it. It’s a small space, such a contrast from his royal quarters. This is a prank. It’s an elaborate prank that the guys are playing on me. They spiked me with something and transported me here as part of their bachelor’s party. Isn’t that a tradition?

He goes to the room’s closet to find his luggage, so he can change to a more casual outfit than his pajamas. He opens the dark space, searching for the light switch and flips it on. WHAT THE HELL? Where the hell am I? How the hell did they have time to do this?  He is met with a tiny walk in closet, full of clothes and accessories. His luggage is nowhere to be found and he is growing more frustrated and puzzled by the second.

He cautiously walks in to the closet, eyeing the garments in front of him. His bewilderment increases when he realizes that none of the clothes are his and they seem to be from a different era. Seeing that he couldn’t seem to spot his suitcase anywhere and he really wants to be out of his sleepwear he puts on a pair of gray slacks pairing it with a white button-down shirt and a black sweatshirt jacket. He completes his attire with a blue casual bow tie and black wingtip shoes. He glances in the mirror hanging in the back of the door and taken aback at his choice of wardrobe. He already feels embarrassed by the silliness of his clothing. They are so going to feel the wrath of my revenge. I will have payback. This elaborate prank of theirs will come to bite them in the long road. I swear it.

He shakes his head as he steps out of the tiny space and out in the room. He searches for his phone to call his friends, but he can’t seem to find it anywhere. They must have taken it last night along with my bags. He gives up on finding it and step out of the bedroom. The rest of the small apartment adorned the same painted walls and blue curtains. How in the world did they find this place? Is this a themed party?

“Drake? Maxwell? Tariq? Where in the world are you guys?” he shouts hoping his friends would turn up, but nothing and no one replied. He decides to step out of the building and out onto the street. Just when he thought the surprise has ended. The view in front of him intensified the confusion. His eyes widened as he takes in the sight. This isn’t a prank. He is somewhere else. Some-WHEN else.

Crowds of people bustle about everywhere, on the sidewalk and on the streets. They all don the same type of clothing. Women style dresses of all colors with feathered hats. Men are wearing a variety of sweater coats, suede jackets, and pairs it with dress pants and hats. Liam blends right into the crowd. He feels light headed from the shock and he sit on the cement steps of the building he came out of. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He is mind cannot process this information. It isn’t possible. He is dreaming right now, and he needs to wake up. He slaps and pinches himself hoping to wake from this very inexplicable dream.

A newspaper dispenser catches the corner of his eye and practically runs to it. He takes one to and searches the top for the date. It reads May 26, 1925. Nineteen twenty…what the hell is happening? How the hell is this possible? He recalls the night before with the balcony and the drink, reading the book, then…the falling star. He remembers making the wish. It brought me to the 1920s?! The reality of it all finally hits him, and he looks around him with newfound awe and…excitement. This is the freedom he’s always wanted. No royal guards following his every move. For the first time in twenty-five years he is granted liberty to just be him.

He blends among the crowded walkways and explores the treasures of the roaring twenties has to offer. The first stop on his adventure is a hat store called Worth & Worth. His curiosity peaks as he sees the many different styles and hues of headwear on the shelves. All the men from this time are sporting one I might as well blend in. Fortunately, there is a wallet in one of his pocket pants to buy a hat. He picks a 1920s fedora-style white hat with a black trim going around. He loves the sophisticated quality of the apparel, yet it still has its casual touch.

His explorations consume the day. He went through different stores admiring all the different styles and cultures. He stopped at multiple restaurants tasting the variety of lifestyles through the versatile foods. He was awed at the many arts displayed in The Met. But what rendered him breathless was the sight of the Lady Liberty herself. The radiance of the afternoon sunlight casts an ethereal sense to her features. She was more beautiful than in the pictures. She truly did emit freedom.

He stays there for a few more minutes watching the sun set on the horizon before finding his way back towards his place. On the travel back, a building across the street calls out to him, luring him with its big block letters. The Cotton Club, it reads in neon lights. What an intriguing place. I wonder what type of club it is.

He decides to head back to his place and change before heading to the mysterious club. He changes into a classy white suit, pairing it with a brown vest, blue dress shirt and a yellow tie. His pocket square matches his vest. He feels a little out there, but he didn’t care. His adventures push him to be out of his comfort zone.

He does a 360 turn over in front of the mirror feeling satisfied with his ensemble. He puts on a pair of black oxford shoes with white trimming and the hat he purchased earlier from the day and heads out to the captivating club. He encounters a burly man by the entrance. He exchanges looks with him. The guard looks him up and down and again and then steps aside to let him in.

He is surprised to learn that it wasn’t a club after all. It is a speakeasy with an entertainment show. Booths and table crowd the space with waitresses dressed as flappers running about serving shady looking men. The room is fogged with smoke from cigarettes. Jazz music plays from the band in front of the small, makeshift dance floor.

He finds an empty half-moon shaped booth near the middle, past the shifty men who eyes him as he walks by. He settles in the plush burgundy vinyl seat for a few more minutes before a waitress dressed in an indigo flapper dress walks to him. The intricacy of her outfit is no match for the beauty that she is.

Her brown hair is placed on top of her head in a beautiful updo. Elegant pearls hug her neck and hang from her ears, but it only accentuates her natural exquisiteness. She has fair skin and narrow brown eyes. Her lips are painted red emphasizing the shape of it. And here I thought nothing could top the Statue of Liberty.

“Evening, sugar, I’m Ryne. What can I get you started with tonight?” she breaks him out of his daze. “Oh, hello, I’m Liam. I guess I’ll just have a glass of whiskey. Neat,” he orders still feeling the effects of the spell of her beauty. She squints her eyes suspiciously at him before walking away to fetch his beverage.

A few minutes later, she comes back with his drink, “One neat whiskey for the gentleman.” He thanks and watches her walk away. She gets a few steps in before turning back around and takes a seat in his booth.

“You’re not from here are ya,” she asks, peaking curiosity on her voice. “No. I am not. How did you know?”

“Well, most here are regulars,” her thick, sultry New York accent hypnotizes him. “Careful with the quilt. The prohibition’s made all the drinks strong. It’ll definitely keep ya warm.” His face must’ve registered confusion because she rephrases her sentence, “Watch out for the whiskey. It has a strong kick. Wouldn’t want ya passin’ out, sweetheart. You’re not from here, are ya?”

He hesitates before answering, “No, I am not. I guess it’s pretty noticeable.” He brings the tumbler of amber drink to his lips and takes a sip. He coughs as soon as the content travelled down his throat. She’s right. This does have a kick. Drake would love it.

“Well…where do you hail from then?” she leans in as she asks. He whiffs a scent of jasmine from her perfume and falls deeper into her gorgeous spell. He inches closer to her, as if she’s luring him into her reach. “I’m afraid I really can’t answer that question, Ms. Ryne,” he apologizes.

“Phonus balonus! Now, don’t be a wet blanket. I’m serving you. Least you can do is answer my question,” she protests. He thinks how to best satisfy her inquiry, “I am from somewhere far away, to keep it simple.”

“Visitor, I see? I can tell by the accent. Well, I guess I won’t push ya to tell me,” she flashes a brilliant smile. Before she gets another chance to ask him a question, a man in a beside them hollers for her, “Dumb Dora, bring your bubs and the rest of yourself over here! I have a dead soldier!”

“Well, I guess I better ankle on up there and deal with that Reuben! Nice to meet you, Liam, is it? I’ll see you ‘round, Blue Eyes,” she winks at him as she slides out of the booth back to the bar to fetch the rowdy man a refill. Liam watches Ryne as she moves about the space. He admires how her hips sway, sending all the frills of her dress in frenzy. He eavesdrops her encounter with this man.

“Here’s your refill, sugar, but I must say this is your last one. You’re looking half-seas over!” she says in a chirpy tone. “Nonsense, but I must say you’re a choice bit of calico, baby!” he slurs disgustingly at her. The banter continues for several more minutes with Ryne subtly evading the aggressive passes this man is giving her. Liam finally looks over when he hears her scream at him.

The man has her in his arms, trying to kiss her. She writhes in resistance and yells at the man making a scene in the room, “Bank’s closed, mister!” She slaps him hard on the face and pushes him off her. Liam is now standing from his spot, ready to rescue her if the rude man decides to retaliate. He doesn’t. The obvious drunk passes out on his booth.

Ryne fixes herself before striding up to Liam, “Let’s blouse, Blue Eyes.” She grabs his hand leading him out the door. “Ernie, I’m done for the night,” she looks to the man handling the bar before heading out. When they get to the street and farther away from the tavern, she finally acknowledges him, “Sorry ‘bout that, Blue Eyes. I hope you were done in there, but if not, you can always go back. I can promise better company though.” Again, she puts on a sparkling smile that makes his heart skip a beat. How much did I have to drink? I am not thinking straight. I can’t do anything with this woman. She’s almost 100 years older than I am! His mind and heart struggles with the dilemma, but in the end the heart wants what it wants.

She leads him back to her place. “Make yourself at home. I’m not much of a drinker, but I can offer you water or juice,” she says as she walks to the kitchen. “I’m fine, but thank you,” he replies.

They take a seat on the lavish brown couch. “So, how long are ya in town for, Blue Eyes?” a perfectly trimmed eyebrows raised as she asks her question. “I’m not quite sure,” he truly did not know the answer. He isn’t sure if and how to get back to his own time. Or if he wanted to.

After getting through an awkward phase, the pair settles into a nice flow going from strangers to acquaintances in just a matter of several minutes. Liam finds himself comfortable around her. His guarded persona forgotten by her light, bubbly presence. They spend the night getting to know each other and asking silly questions, laughter filling the spacious living room. Liam doesn’t know the last time he’s truly been able to be himself like this, if there was a time at all.

“You ain’t like those torpedoes in the speakeasy. You’re different,” she observes. “Torpedoes?” he asks confusingly. “I’m sorry, darlin, I forget you’re not from ‘round here. Torpedoes kinda means thug. All the men in there only care about two things: drinking and feeling up the girls. So, thank you for not doing that. You don’t know how hard it is to not slap them in the face,” she clarifies the misunderstanding.

By this time, they are sitting shoulder to shoulder on the couch. Liam feels a clear fascination for her. He wants to spend the rest of the night getting to know her and every part of her. He gazes at her features from the side and perfection is as glorious as the stars in the sky. She catches him looking at her and he tries to feign it, but she smiles flirtatiously at him.

Their faces are nothing but mere inches from each other. An eerie silence blankets the room and electricity passes between them before Liam gives in. He catches her luscious lip with his own, tasting orange juice on them. He can feel her hesitation at first, but her body finds itself drawn to his warmth.

He tangles his fingers in her hair, ruining her delicate updo while his other hand roams on her thigh savoring her smooth, cool skin. She grabs him by one of his lapels pulling him in for a deeper, passionate kiss while grabbing him by the back of his neck to press him more firmly against her.

She feels his tongue brush on her bottom lip, silently asking for permission to enter her mouth. She parts them giving way to his dancing tongue as she moves to straddle his lap. His hands grip the back of her thighs bringing her closer to his body. His desire for her increases by each passing second. He pulls away for a moment to look into her eyes and asks for reassurance, “Are you sure about this?”

“Definitely, Blue Eyes. You intrigue me,” she lustfully replies. With that, Liam loses all inhibitions and they spend the night knowing each other in every level. Their love making moved from the couch to the kitchen and ending in her room.

As the night passes on, Liam holds Ryne close to his chest under the covers. Their legs are tangled, and warmth comforts them to sleep. “That was a perfect ending,” Liam whispers to her ear and kisses her hair. She hums in agreement and he feel her succumb to her sleep. Before closing his eyes, Liam glances out the window and sees another falling star. He smiles as he sinks comfortably to slumber, holding Ryne to him.

Little did he know that he was never going to see her again. He doesn’t if what happened was a figment of his imagination or if it was reality. He decides to believe the latter when he wakes up the next morning back to his current time. Back to his prison life. His heart is heavy when he gets ready to travel f

or his bachelor’s party, the last taste of “freedom”.

His friends notice his beaten demeanor and tries to coax him out of it, but to no avail. “Maxwell, let it go. He doesn’t want to hear any more of you incessant rants about rap battles or dance offs,” Drake scolds his friend. Once again, he is grateful for his best friend looking out for him. He knows him well enough to leave him alone.

All his mind can think of is Ryne and how her body felt as she moved against him. Her sweet lips and beautiful eyes. Her genuine kind personality. He sinks deeper into his sorrow, missing her. How can one-night mean so much? I don’t even know if it was real. It felt real.

They spend the short weekend getaway going through the motions of a traditional party for a bachelor. Tariq takes them to a high-end men’s fashion boutique to get new suits, something to wear during the upcoming social season. Drake grumbles in complaint through the whole ordeal and is finally relieved when it was over.

“Finally! After all that I need a drink. I’ve been looking at some dive bars near us and there’s one a couple of blocks away,” Drake leads them to car to travel to the next itinerary. Liam hasn’t been there 12 hours and he’s already tired, but he marches on for the sake of his friends. They arrive in front of the bar and one by one file out of the black tinted SUV. “You guys go on ahead. I’ll follow along shortly. I’ll help find parking for the car,” Liam says from the car. They knew better than to push it, so they let him drive off. Truly, he just wants a moment to collect his thoughts. Try as he might he can’t get Ryne’s face out of his mind. It’s as if it’s permanently branded in his memories, a fond yet bittersweet memory.

He walks the short block with his guard following close behind. He enjoys the crisp night air. He misses the neon lights of the twenties and the eccentric attire of the crowd. He misses the unlimited freedom he felt during that short span of time. He opens the door to the dive bar Drake found and finds them already seated with a young woman in front taking their orders.

“Four?” she asks Drake and he nods towards his direction. When he sees her face, all the hope he thought was lost comes rushing back like a tidal wave. Shock hits him but he quickly hides it, masking it with genuine interest. Standing in front of him is a young woman with the same exact features as Ryne, right down to the smile.

For the first time since he woke up alone back to his own timeline, he feels genuinely happy. He flashes his princely smile, his eyes once again housing hope. “Sorry I’m late. Thank you for your patience, Miss…” he greets the beautiful woman in front of him. It takes her a moment to collect her senses, “Uh, Catheryne.”

The rest of the night passes by with Liam feeling happy and content. He invites Catheryne to accompany them for the rest of the night. She takes them to a private cove overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. While seating by the bonfire, Liam asks her a question that’s been on his mind since he saw her, “Your name? Is it from a relative? I’m just curious?”

“Oh! Yeah, my mother named me after my grandmother. She said I look just look like her,” she answers simply. She is right about that. She looks exactly like her. Liam finds himself already falling for Catheryne. He knows even if he tried to stop it that it wouldn’t do any good. Catheryne is captivating, just like her predecessor.

Liam thanks the deities for bringing him to that time and leading him to her. Sometimes, the universe aligns the stars on your favor. 

[aja154ever]

The Magic of Hosoya Yoshimasa’s Singing Voice

I stumbled upon a new Hosoyan song (which is not really new, but I just happened to hear it for the first time) which left me so impressed that my feelings just went overflowing that I found the need to write this post. :D

Note: This post is very personal. These are my own thoughts and opinions so people may actually disagree but at least to me, these are facts. Now whaatt

Hosoyan may not get as much spotlight as the others, but I am proudly claiming that his singing voice is one of the best in the seiyuu business. And I said one of, because Taniyama Kishou produces the best sound in the planet while Miyano Mamoru’s singing voice is the definition of a beautiful voice. Now back to Hosoyan (lol sorry I needed to point those two out), he may not be at par with the likes of the two, but Hosoyan’s voice is special in his own way. At least for me, his voice has the power to make any song sound good. More often than not, whenever I discover a song sang by Hosoyan, I get to like it by the first time I heard it; at times even just by hearing the first few lines of the song (and I am not exaggerating). This is the magic that not even Kiiyan and Mamo can do to me, even though I know that those two’s singing voices are more beautiful. And anyway, this does not only apply to Hosoyan’s solo songs; he can actually influence duets and group songs too. 

I actually learned about Hosoyan first when I first heard Yamazaki Sousuke’s character song in FREE! I was not a Sousuke fan, but when I heard his song, I immediately searched for his seiyuu. The moment was like, Oh my gosh he actually sounds this good when he sings??? Ok wait who is this person I need to know who is he google tell me! And that’s when this loop of falling in love over and over again began.

While most of Hosoyan’s songs are really damn good, these are my personal favorites: (The titles lead to links of the songs)

Just Wanna Know - Yamazaki Sousuke (FREE!)

While Ashita e no Last Race was the first Hosoyan song I heard and introduced me to Hosoyan, I give Just Wanna Know the credit for being the root of everything. It was a first time for me to have only one song played on repeat for the whole day. That’s how much I loved it. That’s how much I love his voice. And the lyrics were a good bonus because I was able to understand Sousuke’s character better. I really, highly recommend this song.

Kimi, Mai Oriru - Uduki Arata (Tsukiuta)

This is one of the songs that I loved just by hearing the first line for the first time. Like, Oh my gosh? Does anyone still have doubts about Hosoyan’s singing voice? Even after a long time of knowing this song, hearing the first line just feels like the first time again. And I get reminded of the blessing called Hosoyan’s voice. This is the song I want to sing to Hosoyan if ever I meet him face to face. I actually watched the anime because of this song.

Maverick - Kira Rintarou (Kenka Banchou Otome)

Again, one of those songs I get to love from the first line. As soon as the instrumental intro starts, the song is releasing such happy vibes and ofc Hosoyan’s voice soon delivers that. Again, I am currently supporting the anime because of this.

Angel Lost - Tengenji Kakeru (Starmyu)

It took me some time before knowing that this song actually has a full version - meaning I fell in love with just the 30-second clip from the anime I chanced upon on Youtube. This actually led me to watching the whole anime series. Oh Tavian

Boku ni Totte - Knife of Day (Digimon Adventure Tri)

This sounds a bit different from the aforementioned as this seems to be a band song and Hosoyan commendably pulls it off, of course. And ofc, the last line *wink wink*

Sekai o Teki ni Mawashitemo - Seiya Moroboshi (I Doll U)

I swear, even if the world becomes my enemy, I’ll never get tired of saying that Hosoyan’s voice is really one of the best.

Song For You - Shiraishi Kuranosuke (The Prince of Tennis)

This is my all-time favorite Hosoyan song, no, let me rephrase that. This is my favorite song of all time. The most played song on my playlist, the one on repeat during the nights I can’t sleep, the one that can calm me down when I’m irritated, the song I sought after whether I’m feeling happy or sad. I don’t know why, I really don’t know why out of all of Hosoyan’s songs, Song For You takes this spot in my heart. It feels like it’s digging me inside, healing my soul. Important note: While the link leads to the song’s album version, the better and the best version is the live version, which is what I have on my playlist. It was the live version that made me love this song to this extent so please, please, listen to the live version which is on the following link at 47:40:

Shiraishi Kuranosuke Live

It is said that Shiraishi paved the way for Hosoyan’s name to be known in the business. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to watch Tenipuri as a child and it’s hard for me to keep up now, but I am aware of how big this franchise is. And also, this special live event is an enough indication of how big Shiraishi is. Shiraishi is not the main character, he’s not even in the protagonist’s team but he, of all the characters, held his own live in Fukuoka, Osaka, and Tokyo. I am totally jealous of the people who were able to come to this live. This is 2 hours of Hosoyan singing live. I cried just by watching it on the screen, what more if I were there? I am just so proud of this precious child.

Personal favorites from Shiraishi’s live: Song for You (duh ofc), Get Started, Go on, Prayer, Bible, Ashiato, Speed Star, Like Bored Days, No Muda Life, ok let me stop now before I include everything in the list

I’ve never heard Hosoyan sing live, and I don’t know if I will ever have that opportunity because unlike other seiyuus, he is technically not a singer who host live concerts. And even seiyuu events rarely have a singing segment or some sort. But based from some clips and that Shiraishi live I have watched and heard, I do believe that Hosoyan sounds better live. I don’t want the softwares doing some editing stuff on his voice; I want it raw and natural together with the flats or whatever flaws he does. 

Bonus:

Kagirinaku Toumei ni Chikai Kuro - Giran & Yurian (Black Wolves Saga)

Ultimate dream duet Taniyama Kishou and Hosoya Yoshimasa!!!! I literally screamed when I found out that such a song exists! I’ve heard Kiiyan and Mamo sing duet a few times but it just seems that their voices do not blend that well together, maybe because of too much beauty and power? But with Hosoyan, even a duet with Kiiyan is something he can do well and results to a good song.

Here We Go! - Hyuuga Junpei & Kiyoshi Teppei (Kuroko no Basuke)

Hosoyan can rap! OMG with that voice, with that personality lolol, he can rap! I’m really so proud of youuuu!!

Rebellion Star - Trickstar (Ensemble Stars)

Again, I fell in love from the first line. This is a group song and again, it has been decided that I will be watching this anime and Hokuto will be my bias. But wait Hokuto’s seiyuu was replaced in the game, what will happen to the anime huhuhu

This YT AV edit is such a blessing: Yoshimasa Hosoya - Song Compilation Roles

Hosoyan is currently taking a rest from work due to medical problems. As much as it hurts me that I won’t be hearing him for the next one or two anime seasons, I am praying for his good health more than anything else. Oh my, this guy has been working too much. I understand that he needs this time very much, so please do come back when you have fully rested. Continue doing what you love - be it acting, singing, or anything - we’ll always be here to support you. *hugs*

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