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concerningwolves · 3 years

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Hi! I'm a hearing person so I have a few questions about how to write d/Deaf characters. 1) How do I describe the difference in what someone can hear with and without their HAs? 2) Is someone who was born d/Deaf less likely to get HAs compared to someone who lost their hearing later in life? 3) Would a person who uses HAs be more likely to sign or speak when communicating with family members? I hope none of these questions are insensitive as that is in no way my intention. Thanks for the help!

Differences between sound with and without HAs

(Here’s another ask on the topic of describing from a deaf POV)

How someone hears with and without their hearing aids will vary depending on their base levels of hearing to start with. I can certainly tell you about my experiences, but you should do some further research on your own to get a richer and more nuanced understanding. YouTube is a great place to start. I always recommend Jessica Kellgren-Fozard’s videos, and there's also this short film:

youtube

Some key highlights:

0:25 - In this sequence, she orders a coffee. Note how the cashier's voice is entirely indistinct mumbling. That's exactly what it's like for me at times.

4:07 - sitting around a table when everyone is talking. The voices overlap indistinguishably into a muddy sound-soup, and reading the lips is about as helpful as a chocolate teapot.

► SOUND WITHOUT HEARING AIDS

Basic rule of thumb for describing sound without HAs is that things are much quieter. Certain sounds may seem muffled, distant, or plain old too soft to hear. I describe HA-less sound as being flat: I can sort of pick up on the sound, but it lacks depth and volume.

Some noises, such as car alarms, go in and out of my hearing range. You know when a noise is very far away, and you think you can hear it but you're not sure what, exactly, you're hearing? That's what it's like for me without HAs, except it's all sound, no matter how distant the source (and my distance range is much, much shorter).

My ability to differentiate sounds and voices is severely impaired without hearing aids, so I’m genuinely be unable to tell whether that's my mum calling from the next room, or Jeremy Vine on the radio in this room. (And I wouldn't be able to tell what either is saying). It's also much harder to tell where a sound is coming from, although this is impacted by the uneven levels of residual hearing in each ear, so mileage may vary depending on type of hearing loss.

► WITH HEARING AIDS

The baseline is: HAs make things louder. It's like glasses except for ears, meaning sound is clearer (louder) and better defined. Be sure to research the type your character might use. It’s also a good idea to understand what hearing aids actually do. Here's an article about how hearing aids work.

No two HA-users will hear things in exactly the same way, and there are compounding factors, i.e., how often someone uses the HA(s) (how accustomed they are to them), HA strength and features, and levels of hearing. Different HA models have different specifications, so things will sound slightly different through them. Some of the most powerful and high-spec HAs have a multitude of settings for everything from music, to nature, to crowded spaces, and the sound through each is different because the receiver inside the HA is focusing on different things.

The transition from "everything is quiet, muffled and uneven" to "noise is loud noise is everywhere so much noise" is a big one! When someone first gets a new HA, the audiologist usually recommends wearing it in short stints and building up endurance. I barely use my HAs since I left college, so I'm poorly adjusted to them and get overwhelmed. A character who uses HAs regularly (i.e., daily, for hours at a time, or near-constantly), would obviously notice the difference, but wouldn't focus heavily on it.

You should also consider HA feedback. When HAs work well and the wearer is adjusted to them, it's a smooth ride – until something causes feedback. When that happens, it's like having two little demons screeching in your ears. Loud noises and extreme pitch ranges can cause feedback, which may be a slight buzz or a full-on loud screech. A dog barking or a car backfiring can make my HAs buzz for a solid few seconds, and too much input (i.e., speech and music in a crowded, echoey place) will make them crackle so the sound gets distorted.

How likely is your character to use hearing aids and/or sign language?

Whether someone uses HAs and/or sign language is entirely down to personal preference. Deaf culture is about celebrating deafness without trying to live up to the standards of a hearing world. This doesn't mean nobody in Deaf culture wears HAs or implants, or that every single Deaf person uses sign language instead of verbal. It just means Deaf culture puts emphasis on the Deaf person's autonomy and right to choose without being pressed by hearing society. Therefore, many Deaf people who have been deaf since birth or an early age choose to speak sign language and forgo HAs because they find that route liberating. This isn’t the same for everyone, though.

There’s also the concept of "mainstreaming" to consider. Essentially, it's when a Deaf child is trained to fit into the Hearing world. This can include speech therapy to encourage verbal speech instead of sign language, hearing aids, cochlear implants, and attendance of a mainstream school instead of one for d/Deaf students. Many children who are Deaf from birth or a very young age get mainstreamed, usually because it is presented as a more "desirable" option. Here’s an ask answer about mainstreaming (in the context of cohclear implants).

That's not to say all parents do this, though! It's also true that many Deaf children are allowed to make their own choices. Consider your character's backstory and circumstances, and decide for yourself if they would use HAs and sign language. There's no right or wrong choice! Someone who uses HAs is still Deaf, they just choose to use an aid.

Different circumstances will colour a person's decisions about sign language use and hearing aids, however. Although there are many overlaps in the struggles faced by all HoH and deaf people, going deaf later in life is a very different experience. Those of us who are born deaf are... well, we're deaf. Plain and simple. It's a fact of our existence. But losing hearing is, as the phrase suggests, a loss. Generally speaking, most people want to rectify that loss, (and I think it's very cool modern medical technology allows that).

Basically, there's no "wrong" way to write a Deaf character when it comes to them using HAs and sign language. The Deaf community isn't a monolith, and we all make our own choices about signing and aid usage.

Hope this helps! (^人^)

[KO-FI | ASK GUIDELINES/F.A.Q]

#Anonymous #hearing aids #deaf characters #writing advice

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seattlesea · 3 years

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Lorien Legacies Characters + Voices

One: -Has a slight California accent after spending so much time there -Uses basic surfer slang and overexaggerates it sometimes (gnarly dude!) -Also uses modern slang a lot -Has a light, clear, pleasant, smooth, level, soft, and sultry voice -Doesn’t talk too loud or too quiet, usually at the right volume unless she’s excited, then she’s at max volume and makes peoples’ ears bleed -Gets voice cracks and sounds deeper when she’s upset or angry and half the time it’s sad and the other half the time it’s scary -Says ‘hella’ and curses a lot -Sounds fierce and enraged when she’s yelling and it’s terrifying, she sounds wild and untamed -Uses casual words and grammar, nothing too complicated or difficult -Sounds like what silk and cotton candy feel like -Talks kind of slow, but when she’s talking about something she’s passionate about she talks at a mile a minute -Her natural voice is really calming, especially when she’s tired or relaxed, like water splashing on rocks -At night her voice is so low and soothing it’s like star-gazing at three in the morning -Sounds really lazy at times -Gets a little rasp when she’s been yelling too much and it’s awesome -Has a raucous and husky but really contagious laugh

Maggie: -Has a slight Irish accent that gets clearer the louder her voice gets -Has a light, clear, pleasant, gentle, really soft, sotto, silvery, small, and kind of high voice -Mutters in different languages a lot (the others don’t know she’s cursing) -Stutters and uses ‘uh’ and ‘um’ a lot -Talks kind of slow and hesitant at first, but once she warms up to people she talks way too fast and excitedly -And by ‘way too fast’ I mean way too fast, like the girl needs to slow down, barely anyone can understand her. She’s also super talkative to the point of annoying -Sometimes her voice gets raspy when she’s been raising her voice too much (which is rarely, her voice is usually at a good volume) but rarely gets raspy when she’s talking normally since she’s used to talking a lot -Instead of getting shaky or shrill when she’s scared, her voice gets firm and tight -Uses really big, descriptive words some people don’t even understand and has a very extensive vocabulary -Sounds dreamy and starry-eyed, like she’s always fantasizing something and it’s really relaxing and pleasant to listen to -Kind of sounds like what stars would look like if you could see them during the day -Her voice is so soothing and peaceful the others don’t mind when she reads out loud and aren’t scared to admit they allow a 12 year old to read to them -Sounds fiery and harsh when she’s yelling, it’s a lot more loud and commanding than people expect to come from a small 12 year old -When she’s tired she sounds wistful and drags most of her words -And when she’s sad her voice gets really shaky and brittle like she’s always on the verge of breaking down and it’s heart-breaking -Has a soft and cute laugh that’s really quiet, she giggles more than laughs -Sounds like what lace, dreams, and pearls look like -Uses perfect grammar and corrects everyone else a lot

Hannu: -Has a thick Kenyan accent -His voice is deep, strong, fruity, pleasant, thick, soft, and smooth -Uses casual but perfect grammar -Also uses older slang he picked up from his Cêpan -Sounds harsh and loud when he’s yelling, which is rare -His voice is really level and placid, it’s almost lulling -Sounds deeper and shaky and breathes really heavily when he’s upset or scared -Uses nicknames a lot, he likes shortening people’s names as much as he can just for the heck of it -He pronounces things wrong often. He can speak every language fluently but frequently pronounces certain words wrong -Likes short and simple words everyone can understand -Mirrors people often, his voice will change depending on whom he’s been talking to the most -Has a really deep and rich voice that sounds like it’s resonating and everyone loves it -And has a low and sweet laugh that’s really nice to hear -Sounds like what melted chocolate and coffee look like -Drags some of his words and talks at a leisurely pace, he likes taking his time -Never curses no matter the situation -When he’s happy his voice gets higher and brighter -Talks at a nice, steady pace that’s easy to follow along to -Anyone can tell what he’s feeling by his voice, he never bothers to hide it and his voice is always full of emotions

John: -Has a moderate Ohioan accent that Nine mocks a lot -Uses a lot of Ohioan slang as well -Has a fruity, pleasant, gravelly, honeyed, strong, and appealing voice that’s more on the deep side -Sounds booming and assertive when he’s yelling, it’s basically him getting in his Leader Mode™ -Has a deep and resonant laugh that’s really cute (though no one would admit it) -Sounds brittle, low, and serious when he’s upset like he’s about to cry even when he isn’t -Never stutters, he’s learned enough about lying to get the whole talking thing down -Uses casual but good grammar and basic, everyday words, nothing too flashy or complicated -His voice is really nice to listen to especially when he’s comforting someone, it gets really soft and as fragile as glass -Sounds like what deep water looks like and what feathers feel like -Also sounds really soulful, his voice is always thick and full of emotion so it’s easy to tell what he’s feeling by the way he talks, even if he tries to hide it -Says phrases from a bunch of different states in the U.S, so sometimes his sentences are blurs of city slang barely anyone can understand -Since he spends half his time shouting orders or yelling at the other Garde (especially Nine) for doing dumb shit, by the end of the day his voice is always super husky and low -When he’s really tired he talks so slowly, it’s like going down a lazy river, though sometimes it’s annoying cause he takes so damn long to say a single sentence -His voice gets sharp and grating when he’s angry. When he starts sounding like the way cut steel looks like you know you effed up

Five: -Has hints of a few different islander accents that Ella jokes make him sound like a pirate (that and his missing eye definitely give off that impression) -His voice is on the deeper side but not as deep as the other guys’ -Has a gruff, husky, throaty, gravelly, and sometimes monotonous voice. He can sound completely dead and toneless if he wants -He sounds harsh and raucous when he’s yelling, it’s very rough, loud, and grating -When he’s angry he sounds wild and fierce, almost frantic -Uses simple words and calls people by their last names a lot, but never calls people by their numbers -He’ll never admit it when he’s scared, but it’s easy to tell from his voice which gets really tremulous and frail -Sometimes stutters, but never lets himself stutter when talking to people he doesn’t like -His voice when talking to people he doesn’t know or like is cold and hostile- mostly emotionless- but when he’s talking to people he does it’s completely different, it’s soft and sweet and gentle and it’s low-key adorable -Has a sharp and croaky laugh that makes it sound like it’s a fake laugh but it’s usually real (unless it’s a sarcastic laugh) -Curses quite a bit, though not as much as others. Usually it’s just under his breath or when he’s yelling, but not in daily conversation -The way his voice sounds changes depending on who he’s talking to. Usually it sounds like what tires on gravel sound like, sometimes like what steel and ice feel like, and other times like flowers and fluffy clouds -Always has planned-out wording, he hates being unprepared, even if it’s with things as simple as a conversation -So generally he hates talking to really spontaneous people who change the topic a lot unless it’s someone talkative whom he likes, then he just lets them do the talking and he listens in (really well, may I add)

Six: -Has a ranging accent from various places -But her most prominent accent is her Italian one, which gets louder as she yells -And because of her Italian accent, she pronounces her ‘i’s like ‘e’ and she hates it -Has a sultry, smooth, smoky, firm, level, and husky voice, and it’s really deep, deeper than John’s and all the other females -Sounds toneless most of the time but when she’s comfortable or relaxed, she allows others to tell what she’s feeling through her voice (and expression) -Sounds ardent and fiery when she’s yelling. Her voice is so commanding most people would listen to her without thinking -When she’s been talking to much she gets a rasp in her voice that sounds awesome -Since she’s usually so blunt and has learned to hide her emotions, you can barely tell when she’s angry, but she sounds harsh and brash when she’s angry enough -And because of this, you can also rarely tell when she’s scared but if she’s scared enough her voice will get low and quavery and it’s terrifying to hear cause when Six is scared enough to show it, you know the situation is bad -Has a light and silvery laugh that’s rare but nice to hear from her -She doesn’t have many passions outside of the war so when she finds some hobbies after it’s over, she talks really fast and sounds so eager and excited whenever she talks about it -Never stutters or uses ‘uh’ or ‘um’, she usually has her voice under control -Most of the time she sounds like a basic soldier- strong, firm, sturdy, flat, and assertive, like she’s taking orders from a general -Talks at a level, steady pace and uses kind of lengthy, sophisticated words -Sounds like what lightning and thunder look and feel like (pun intended) -Will curse now and then. It’s not a normal thing for her but not surprising when she does it, either

Marina: -Has a moderate Spanish accent from her lengthy time at Santa Teresa -Uses Spanish slang a lot, too -Has a thick, emotional, pleasant, smooth, soft, sweet, and velvety voice -Her voice isn’t too high or too deep, it’s right in the middle and sounds great -Sounds strident and forceful when she’s yelling. She sounds like the verbal personification of trying to push against a wall -She sounds bitter and wobbly when she’s upset or scared -Her natural voice is so gentle and soothing and lovely, hearing it is like getting a warm verbal mom hug and she makes a great comforter because of it -People love hearing her voice because of this -She gets a slight rasp when she’s been yelling cause she’s not used to it -Sometimes stutters, usually when she’s talking about something she’s passionate about cause it’s the only time she won’t talk at a slow, calm pace -Her voice is so peaceful and serene most people who are mad will calm down just at the sound of her voice -Sounds like what vanilla looks like and what velvet feels like -Uses good grammar and wise, knowledgeable words -Has a soft and warm laugh that’s really irresistible and others love hearing it -Uses platonic-friendship pet names like ‘Dolly’, ‘Buttercup’, and ‘Teacup’ -Mutters and curses under her breath in Spanish a lot, especially when she’s exasperated with the other Garde (usually Nine) -When she’s tired her voice gets really deep and sleepy, almost as deep as John’s

Eight: -Has a thick Indian accent after being there for so long -Also speaks Sanskrit fluently and will often switch to it mid-sentence without realizing it -Has a thick, smooth, clear, appealing, husky, fruity, honeyed, and soft voice -His voice is deeper than John and Five’s but not as deep as Nine’s, on par with and deeper than Six’s when he’s tired -Sounds low and guttural when he’s angry, he practically growls -Makes random animal noises at the most random moments thanks to his shape-shifting -When he’s scared or sad his voice turns really soft and delicate, like he could break if you so much as blow in his direction -Uses nicknames (funny and normal) and pet names a lot. Usually pet names are for Marina but he’ll often jokingly flirt with John and Nine -Sounds violent and sharp when he’s yelling, like the way the edge of a sword looks like, and since he rarely yells, it’s pretty scary coming from him -Has a bright and cheerful laugh that’s the personification of sunshine and happiness, it’s great and often lifts the mood of everyone who hears it -Sounds like sugar and what a fuzzy, warm blanket feels like -He naturally talks really fast- sometimes even faster than Maggie- so he pronounces a lot of words wrong, though he never minds -Really likes watching movies and reading so steals a lot of signature phrases from characters -So he’ll be throwing things like ‘Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn’ into daily conversation and no one but Maggie and Sam understand the references

Nine: -Has a heavy Chicago-city accent -Has a gravelly, husky, strong, fruity, gruff, attractive, and low voice -His voice is deeper than John’s but not as deep as people would expect (Six and Eight’s voices are deeper) -Uses Chicago slang a lot and since it changes so often, it confuses the others so much they’ve stopped bothering to ask what something means -Like one day he’ll keep saying ‘finna’ and has to explain what it means then a few weeks later he’ll start saying ‘I like the drip’ and the others are so exasperated trying to keep up -Drags his words a lot, he talks at a slow, easygoing pace but sometimes talks so slowly it’s low-key irritating -Uses nicknames a lot, like calling Five ‘Hobbit’ or Ella ‘Squirt’ -Doesn’t care too much about having an extensive vocabulary but started using decent grammar after Maggie kept correcting him (she eventually gave up with all the Chicago slang, though) -Sounds booming and assertive when he’s yelling, he honestly has one of the most scary yelling voices besides Adam. It’s strong and fierce and dominant and everyone knows not to mess with him when he’s pissed -Talks SUPER LOUDLY LIKE TYPING IN ALL CAPS, the others have to remind him to lower his voice on a daily basis -Sounds ferocious and forceful when he’s angry, like the verbal form of a wildfire -Would never admit he’s scared unless it’s to people he’s really close with but sometimes it’s obvious through his voice, which gets shaky and heavy -Has a slight rasp that makes his voice sound more hoarse -Sounds like what caramel and melted marshmallows look like -Has a deep and pleasant laugh that’s really low and always genuine and melodious and rich -Curses a lot, the most out of everyone

Ella: -Has hints of a Scottish accent -Has a high, soft, sweet, slightly raspy, silvery, honeyed, and sotto voice -Overall her voice is really cute -Uses actress slang like ‘room tone’ and ‘back to one’ -Also uses good grammar and either really simple, basic words or sophisticated ones, not as knowledgeable or extensive as Maggie’s but pretty advanced for her age -Sounds brittle and thin when she’s upset and scared -It’s easy to tell what she’s feeling through her voice, she never bothers trying to hide her emotions even though she’s an experienced-enough actor to do so and her voice is always full with emotion -Rarely yells but the few times she does, she sounds wild and and frantic, almost hysterical -When she’s angry she sounds trembly and taut. She sounds less angry, per se, and more tight, so it’s hard to tell when she’s angry or just annoyed -Has a soft and airy laugh that sounds like the way a soft breeze feels -Mirrors others a lot, she unintentionally copies everyone else’s signature phrases, hand gestures, tone, et cetera -Her natural voice is super quiet and others have to remind her to speak up a lot, though she’s starting to get the hang of it after mirroring loud-ass Nine -Sounds like what crystals look like and what the cool side of a pillow feels like

Sam: -Has a basic American accent -Has a gentle, emotional, mellow, light, silvery, and kind of high voice -And it’s really, really soft, softer than Marina’s and others love listening to his voice so they don’t mind when he goes on rants about movies or space -When he’s in any mood other than happy or excited he sounds like he’s about to cry, even when he’s relaxed -But when he’s mad his voice doesn’t quiver or anything, it just gets really tight -When he’s talking about things he’s passionate about he talks slower like he’s savoring the words and his voice gets a little deeper and somehow softer -His voice and breath get really shaky when he’s scared or upset like he’s about to break down and it’s really sad to hear -Generally talks quite fast and faster when he’s nervous -Chuckles more than laughs, it’s quiet and sweet -Always gives people nicknames from sci-fi movies, like he’ll call John Spock at random times and no one understands the references -His voice is really soothing. He’s not the best at comforting people (he’s kinda awkward with it) but his voice is enough to calm people down a little bit -Rarely curses, he’ll only say the less intense words like damn or shit but if he’s angry enough he’ll go on a cursing spree and everyone’s shocked at it -Hates Ohio slang but it’s become a habit after living there for so long (and cause John uses it all the time) -Sounds like what glass looks like and what cotton feels like -When he’s tired or just woke up his voice will get really deep- on par with John’s- and he drags all his words and talks super slow -Uses perfect grammar and has a very extensive vocabulary -Usually sounds like a polite college professor -Says ‘burst the bubble’ all the time and uses a lot of astronaut slang and terms -Half the time his speech is impromptu and the other half of the time he has to know what he’s going to say and prepares it like two hours before

Sarah: -Also has a typical American accent -Has a really soft, soothing, velvety, pleasant, emotional, and melodious voice -Her voice isn’t too deep or too high, it’s right in the middle and just a little deeper than Sam’s -Has a soft and giggly laugh, it’s really cute -When she’s scared or upset her voice gets kind of shaky and croaky -Talks at a nice, steady pace and always at a reasonable volume -Sounds like writing in italics -Has a shrill and strident yelling voice when she’s frantic -But when she’s angry it’s resonant and orotund -Overall has a very clear and calm voice but gets a slight rasp when she’s tired and it’s really nice -Also makes a great comforter cause her voice is so soft and sweet -Sounds so patient all the time -Uses good grammar and simple but illustrative words -And uses a bunch of cute, romantic pet names like ‘Love’, ‘Darling’, ‘Sweetie’, etc. -Doesn’t use any type of slang, she just goes for the basic words -Sounds like honey and the way soft sweaters feel -Likes using the basic nicknames that are shortened versions of peoples’ names -And always calls the Garde by their Earth names, she doesn’t like calling people by numbers cause she feels like it’s dehumanizing them -When she’s nervous or anxious her voice gets really quiet, like a whisper -Can sound really rough when she’s tired or exhausted -Her voice is the most feminine of the group, and it’s really soothing and calming to listen to, especially when you’re tired or trying to relax -Her voice is like getting the verbal personification of cuddling with a soft stuffed animal -It’s just really great, kind of like a piece of heaven

Adam: -Kind of has that harsh Mogadorian accent he tries hard to get rid of -Tries to make his voice sound softer but it just ends up sounding like metal against a cheese grater so he eventually gave up -Has a thick, kind of throaty, gravelly, husky, steady, firm, and croaky voice -His voice isn’t really deep, just a bit deeper than Sarah’s and on par with Five’s -But when he’s tired his voice gets really deep, on par with John and sometimes Six and Eight -Sounds monotonous and kind of dead towards people he doesn’t know but once he warms up to them he sounds a lot more optimistic and emotional -Also calls people he doesn’t know by their last name or rank -Usually sounds really hopeful and wistful -Easily has the scariest yelling voice, he sounds wild and fierce and forceful and really, really loud and it’s pretty terrifying -His voice gets really scratchy, sad, and shaky when he’s scared or upset and it’s so painful to hear him like that -When he’s trying to comfort people he usually goes for physical affection but is actually quite wise and always knows the best things to say -Uses perfect but casual grammar and knowledgeable, sophisticated words that make him sound like a nerdy high schooler teacher’s pet -Also uses Mog terms and slang (if that’s even a thing) and literally no one understands him -Curses quite a lot. Not as much as One or Nine but a bit more than Five and Six -Mutters under his breath a lot, usually in Mogadorian -His laugh is a little weird, kind of sharp and choppy, but nice to hear from him -Rarely raises his voice but whenever he does it’s intense -Sounds like lightning and the taste of mint -Usually his voice is a little toneless like someone reading an audiobook -Talks at a very steady pace but likes to pronounce things perfectly and on-point so talks almost carefully, and likes having all his words prepared -Generally sounds warm towards his friends but can sound cold as ice when talking to his enemies

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blakemetothemoon · 4 years

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Love in a Laundromat - 7/? - SaifahZon, M

Notes: Soooo with everything going on, my NaNo has kind of changed into me focusing on this fic and I'm super okay with it. Thank you for all the support on this!

Summary: Zon's favorite place is a laundromat. That is until a certain tall, handsome stranger steals his washer and seems hellbent on making Zon miserable.

Read here or on ao3! :)

Marley Coffee Bar is only a short, five minute walk away, but it feels like ages.

Awkward pauses linger, like now that they aren't in the laundromat playing music they don't know how to talk. Saifah seems like he has something he wants to tell Zon, but every time he speaks, it's something mundane that comes out. Comments on the humidity, or how classes are going. There's this noticeable space between them Zon swears wasn't there before the party. Zon is starting to wonder if he’s the only one thinking about those intense moments of touching and moving together and kissing at all. In fact, Saifah barely looks at Zon. His eyes don't linger on Zon's lips like he’s caught them doing more than once…

And that’s when it hits Zon like a brick wall what Saifah is trying to say: that night was a mistake.

Of course, Zon thinks. Of course Saifah regrets it. He’s Saifah, and Zon is Zon, and—

"Here it is!" Saifah says, yanking Zon out of the heavy thoughts starting to weigh him down.

Zon glances up at the shop beneath the white “Marley Coffee Bar” sign and crinkles his brow at the darkened building, chairs on tables and no staff bustling about inside. “Um, it looks closed."

Saifah holds the door open for Zon and gestures for him to take a right instead of a left into the other side of the entrance where the lighting is dim and soft, jazzy music plays from an overhead speaker. “It’s a bar, too. Mostly wine and beer, but they’ve got some coffee-flavored cocktails and small plates.”

The barista-bartender is all smiles as he approaches them, white towel thrown over his shoulder. ‘Ban’ is handwritten pretty in white on his nametag. Ban raises an eyebrow when he notices the guitar on Saifah’s back. “Saifah! You’re not scheduled to play tonight, are you?”

“No, I’m just here with a…,” Saifah pauses. Then, he smiles softly and brushes past, smoothing out the wrinkle of hesitation like it was never there. “With a friend from university. This is Zon.”

Still stuck on Saifah’s pause—why did Saifah pause? What was he going to say? What was he ashamed to say?— Zon’s bow and greeting comes out a little awkward. Then, he glances up at the giant menu. Written in fancy, gold script, it stretches from one side of the bar to the next. Coffee, a column of roast types, teas, a beer and wine list, signature cocktails, food. Zon’s head starts to spin as he takes it all in.

“Just a cup of coffee black," he finally says. "Whatever the darkest roast is.”

“And the usual for me,” Saifah tells Ban. Then, he turns to Zon. “I’m going to put my guitar on the stage out of the way. I’ll grab our drinks on the way back, you go grab one of the booths.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Zon grumbles out of principle, but wanders off to do what Saifah demanded, ignoring the amusement in both Saifah and Ban’s faces.

Only a few other people are in the bar: a couple conversing with each other at the bar, another at the booth closest to the stage, and a group of five girls at a table. Every single one watches Saifah as he walks to the stage, their gazes more than fleeting, innocent interest. Zon makes a face and rolls his eyes before dropping into the closest booth, tossing his backpack onto the seat next to him. While he waits for Saifah to grab the drinks, he finally takes in the coffee shop-bar hybrid.

Marley Coffee Bar is this bizarre mix of antique and modern, like a coffee shop version of those speakeasies he’s read about in old American novels. The chandelier lights are all different shapes and types, and the booths are made of red leather, while the wooden tables are rustic grey. There’s a mahogany curtain next to the line of booths to separate the bar from the coffee shop; it’s velvet and soft when he loses against the urge to touch it. The stage is the only part Zon recognizes, thanks to all those fan videos of Saifah. It’s small and intimate, while the grand black piano next to it adds another level of class he didn’t expect when Saifah invited him to a coffee shop.

Zon is finding the whole mix-match of it kind of...inspiring? His fingers twitch, craving to write. Songs, stories, a new world with Marley Coffee Bar at the center of characters' lives. And this is where Saifah plays? He’s part of creating this atmosphere, part of the reason people come here?

“Really amazing, isn’t it?” Saifah says as he finally slides into the booth across from Zon.

So are you, Zon thinks. He barely stops himself from saying it out loud.

Saifah’s now sans guitar and holding four drinks. He sets them down without spilling a drop. Zon’s black drip coffee is in a mug the size of his face. The marble is a faded blue. Saifah’s drink is in a tall white glass with, “est. 1929” in golden scrawl. It’s completely different from Zon’s, like there is no consistency beyond the cups having history that customers can converse over.

“What are those?” Zon asks, pointing to the extra drinks.

“Ban made them. On the house, since it’s your first time here.”

“It’s not yours though, so why do you get one?

“VIP,” Saifah says and winks.

Zon snorts. “You’re so cocky.”

It’s one hundred percent not a compliment, and he did a great job of keeping any sort of endearment out of his voice. But it doesn’t stop Saifah from looking annoyingly proud of himself. Zon reaches across the table to smack Saifah’s head, and the taller man grunts even though Zon had put barely any force behind it.

Saifah pushes both cocktails into the center in a peace offering. “This one is basically a cold brew with rum and orange, and this one is a white russian. And if you don’t want to drink that’s fine, too.”

There goes Saifah being all considerate and annoying. Except it’s not annoying, it’s stupidly attractive, and it makes Zon all frazzled and giddy.

“Which is your favorite?” he replies.

“The white russian."

“You have that one.” Zon grabs the cold brew with rum before Saifah can accommodate him again. His head is already a mess trying to read Saifah tonight, he doesn’t need another reason to fucking swoon. Plus the drink he grabbed is so good, he has to immediately take another sip.

“So…” Zon continues, setting his cup back down on the table, enjoying the coldness against his clammy hands. “This is where you play?”

Saifah nods. “Most Wednesdays and sometimes when they do open mic nights on Saturdays. They raise the curtain and keep both sides open for those.” He glances back over his shoulder to the stage, then turns back to Zon with a trademark smirk. “You know, there aren’t that many people here. Ban would probably have no problem if we played a song or two.”

The suggestion instantly makes Zon’s stomach plummet. “No.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun—”

“I said no, Saifah.”

Saifah seems taken aback, and Zon flinches, realizing the harshness of his tone a moment too late.

“It’s just—”

“No, I get it,” Saifah interrupts, saving Zon from fumbling out an explanation. “You’ve never even sang in front of someone before until recently. At least, not knowingly—ow!”

Saifah rubs his head again because Zon had hit him considerably harder that time.

"Stop bringing that up!” Zon snaps. “And how can I perform in front of people I don't know when I've never even practiced? If it was just us alone in your room or something, it would be diff…”

He slams his mouth shut, but the words are already out there, lingering and heavy with all sorts of implications, and Saifah definitely heard him because he looks both awed and then devious at the same time.

“Oh?” Saifah says, the word tilting like he’s singing it. "You wanna be alone in my room with me?"

“Music!” Zon rushes out. “Just to make music!”

“There are a lot of different kinds of music we can make—Zon, wait!” Saifah laughs as he grabs Zon by the wrist to stop him from storming off. “I’m kidding!”

Saifah gently tugs Zon's wrist and pulls him down into the booth next to him. The touch is so light, but his fingers burn heat into Zon's skin, and he hopes Saifah can't feel the sudden racing of his pulse. Thankfully, Saifah lets him go. Not so thankfully, Saifah slides his arm over the back of the booth, and he's so freakishly long, his hand can dangle over the edge. Saifah also has no trouble pulling Zon’s drinks to this side of the table, and now it would be too awkward for him to switch seats again, but… if he ignores the logic part of his brain, he knows he doesn’t want to.

There’s a soft buzzing against Zon’s leg. He thinks it’s his phone but quickly realizes it’s Safaih’s. In Saifah’s pocket. Which is pressing against Zon’s thigh because they’re sitting that close to each other, and now that he’s aware of it, it’s all he can focus on. When Saifah shifts to pull out his phone, Zon jolts at the movement.

“You’re pretty popular,” he says to distract from it.

“Well, obviously,” Saifah replies, meeting Zon’s snark with an amused quirk of his eyebrow. “But this time it’s just Day.”

“Day? Tutor’s friend?”

“Hey, hey, that hurts. You know who Day is but had no clue who I was when we met?”

Zon feels his cheeks grow hot which is dumb because he has nothing to be embarrassed about, just because he didn’t know who Saifah was. Maybe Saifah is popular with his music and maybe he’s a good friend of Tutor’s and maybe he’s so tall Zon would have at least noticed him once across campus. Maybe, considering all those things, some embarrassment was justified. Not that Saifah needs to know that.

“With how many adoring fans you have, I highly doubt me not knowing who you are means much.”

Again, Saifah looks like he wants to bring something up but drops his gaze back to his phone. He doesn’t sound particularly casual when he says, “I posted a new video earlier. Day likes to screenshot some of the more… fanatic comments.”

Zon doesn’t need to see the screenshots to know what those are like; he’d read plenty of them when he was looking up Saifah that one night weeks ago. (And a few more times, but only because they were playing music together and he wanted to know more about Saifah’s style. Research. It’s important when it comes to being a writer.)

Saifah is still reading through Day’s messages, and Zon is feeling the slightest bit ignored so he asks, “Do you want my line?”

They’re still pressed together; Zon feels immediately when Saifah’s entire body goes rigid. He raises his head slowly, like a puppet on a string. “Do you… want to give me your line?”

With an annoyed huff, Zon grabs Saifah’s phone and quickly goes to the contacts. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.”

Saifah laughs when Zon hands the phone back. “ ‘Zon-Zon-Zon-Zon’ is your username?”

“If you’re going to make fun of me, then give it back, I’m deleting it!”

“Nope, nope!” Saifah hits the call button and wiggles his eyebrows when Zon’s phone rings. “Allow me to honor you with mine, too.”

After he digs his phone out of his pocket, Zon swipes his thumb, making a show of ignoring the call. Saifah’s affronted gasp makes it hard for Zon to keep a serious face, and he laughs. Apparently, regretting their make out session still doesn't stop Saifah from flirting with him. (This is flirting, right?)

“A giraffe?” Saifah says, incredulous, as he watches Zon set his contact name. “You’re using a giraffe emoji?”

“It’s the most accurate,” Zon replies with a smile, enjoying Saifah’s pout. Then, he sets his phone down and takes a long drink of his coffee, working up the courage for what he’s about to say next: “Okay.”

Despite the sudden backtrack in conversation, Saifah picks up what Zon is replying to. "Okay?"

The opening to back out is tempting, and Zon… he's scared but he wants to do this. "Let's do it. Write songs. At your place."

Zon doesn't expect silence. It stretches so long he finally has to look at Saifah to gauge the other's expression. His lips are tight and his small brown eyes are completely unaffected. "Okay. We can do that."

"Hey," Zon pouts, "why do you sound so unhappy now that I agreed?"

Saifah grabs Zon's arm and shakes it playfully. "My Zon, my Zon! I'm so sorry! Please come play in my room with me!"

Zon feels his entire face grow hot with a fierce blush, and he shakes Saifah's hand off. But before he can scold Saifah, the other unlocks his phone and opens YouTube.

“By the way, there’s a song I think would be fun to do together," Saifah says. "You know ‘Shallow’, right? I found this really pretty acoustic cover of it. Or we can do whatever you want. Maybe that Pardon Me song you wrote? I've been coming up with a bridge that I think works. I can teach you how to play guitar, too—” His excitement suddenly simmers when he meets Zon’s wide doe eyes. Like knowing he has Zon's rapt attention makes him nervous. He clears his throat and pushes a smirk. “You’ll have to ask me reallllly nice, though.”

Zon is about to remind Saifah he’s the one who brought it up. But Saifah’s enthusiasm is endearing and his closeness is a warmth Zon leans into without meaning to, and he can’t help but play along. “Oh, wonderful, Mr. Saifah. Please teach me how to play guitar with your paramount skills.”

The music video starts playing, but Saifah keeps the volume low so only they can hear. He hums and he sets his phone on the table. Then, like the coffee bar and Zon's answer have wiped away all that uncertainty he's been struggling with all night, he says, “I might need better convincing than that.”

For the first time that night, Zon catches Saifah looking at him like he did before The Party. In his eyes is that same heat he had when pressing Zon against that door before stealing his lips and his breath. A heat that holds words he isn’t saying but that Zon can read. The twisting confusion in Zon’s chest tightens while his entire being flares, burning hot and craving. He swallows against the lump in his throat and his mouth is dry as a desert. He chugs half his cocktail to try and moisten it, but his voice still cracks when he replies, "Guess I'll have to think of something."

Then, Zon presses in closer to Saifah's side, pretending he's more interested in the song than kissing Saifah until they're breathless.

#saifahzon #Saizon #Why R U #why r u the series #why r u?#Fic #blakemetothemoon

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sabraeal · 4 years

Text

Insult on Top of Injury

The Wide Florida Bay | Previous

Written for @vivianwisteria‘s birthday...which just so happened to be right when I was in the hospital, not able to work on anything. But at least this time it’s only a month late! She requested a Wide Florida Bay piece, specifically the moment Obi comes out to Zen...and how could I refuse >:3

This is a fucking disaster.

In his heart of hearts, Obi knew there was no way this conversation wouldn’t have hit like a brick, no matter when or how they had it. As much as Doc insisted that her and Zen were over, that they’d pretty much failed to launch in the first place--

Well, Obi had known that wasn’t the way Chief saw it. You don’t have a deep heart to heart on a yacht about liking the same girl without picking up a few things about how your romantic non-rival thinks things are going. God, he’d told him to propose to her.

Three-years-ago Obi was such a dumb fuck. Good thing no one listens to him.

Three-years-from-now Obi is going to be thinking the same fucking thing about him right now, he can just feel it. Well, as long as that asshole finishes his thesis, he can think whatever he likes.

He shakes his head, looking in the mirror. Now’s really not a good time to be yucking it up over how good Future Obi is going to have it, not when Present Obi is currently wondering if this bathroom is fancy enough for him to have a window to climb out of.

Not that he would. He’s left Doc out there, awkwardly making conversation with the happy couple and her shell-shocked ex-boyfriend, and though she has a gift for smoothing things over, this is--

It’s a lot. Especially when said ex-boyfriend didn’t realize that he’s been one for the last six months.

Fuck. Obi slams his palm onto the metal lip of the sink-- or rather, trough, since this isn’t just a fancy-ass fake Mexican place, but the kind that has rustic-yet-modern details like brushed metal trough sinks and exposed beams and something that might actually be adobe.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he tells the mosaic bird beneath his feet, and sticks his head right under the faucet.

Ah, that’s right-- the best part about fancy places like this is when he turns on the tap, the water is actually fucking freezing. And if no one is around to hear him yelp like a little baby when it hits his neck, so much the better.

“Fuck,” he gasps, rearing back out of the stream. “Fuck.”

Obi meets the gaze of his own reflection, and god, does he not need the judgement he sees right now.

“I get it,” he tells Mirror Obi, watching the water drip through the bristle of his hair, leaving tracks down his forehead. “I fucked up. Bad.”

Not like he could have done much. He’d wanted to believe Doc too much, wanted to believe that the past two years had all been leading straight to this, to them; that it hadn’t been a meandering path that circled around and sometimes even through her floundering relationship.

Still, he probably could have texted. Hey Chief, just want you to know I’m fucking Doc now. Just as good as I thought it would be. XOXO.

Oh yeah, that would have gone so well. He can just tell.

Obi shakes himself, water spraying over the trough. He’s gotta pull it together. He can’t stay in this fancy fake Mexican bathroom all night. Doc would kill him.

No, not kill-- Doc would never be so violent. She’d just give him that sad pout and say things like, I’m not upset, I’m just disappointed, and make him wish they had a yard so he could go sleep in the doghouse where he belongs. Whoever said, there are fates worse than death has definitely met Shirayuki when she’s disappointed.

He scrubs a hand down his face. Time to face the tapas. Ain’t like things are gonna go any less sideways in here.

The door easily swings open under his hand; it’s almost a disappointment. It lacks the proper gravitas of a man going to his own disembowelment.

A disembowelment that is going to happen about two minutes earlier than he expected with far less of a crowd, if Kiki’s expression is any indication.

“Kiki!” There’s a reddish cast to the shadows around her, thanks to the great big EXIT sign she’s underneath, which lends an artful level of menace to the situation. God, he wishes she wasn’t between him and the door. “Just getting some fresh--?”

She levers herself off the wall, swaggering right into his personal space. It’s both super hot and pants-pissingly terrifying; something that would be right up his ally if he both wasn’t in the best relationship of his life and bone-shakingly certain he was about to die.

“Go talk to him.”

He blinks. “Come again?”

“Go talk to him.” It’s strange; he’s always thought of Kiki as a giant, as a woman who maybe couldn’t look dead into his eyes but at least came close, but standing like this she’s-- small. Human. “Please.”

“I don’t...” He sighs, shoulders rounding. “What am I even going to say to him?”

“Everything,” she tells him, forbidding. “Anything. Just keep using words until this is better. You’re good at that.”

He chokes on a laugh. Sounds more like Doc’s specialty than his; whenever he runs his mouth off he just gets into situations like this.

“Princess, I would love to oblige you,” he manages, “but I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“We’re only here because none of you can just--” she makes an aborted gesture and steps up into him, so close he can smell the spice on her breath. “Make it possible.”

He laughs. “How?”

She pokes him square in the chest. It hurts. “Use. Your. Words.”

His hair dries the instant he steps outside, because if there’s one thing Florida’s good at, it’s being hot as fuck. And humid as fuck.

Use your words. Obi sighs. Easy for Kiki to say; she barely uses any. He’s been spouting them all night, and they’re still here: in a fancy tapas restaurant trying to masquerade as a humble taqueria, with Chief taking a long walk on its short pier. Literally.

Obi trudges down the stairs to the shoreline, hands buried in his pockets. Here he is, all dressed up-- he wore a button-down for this; hell, he wore slacks too, and that’s what really killing him before the breeze kicks up-- and still everything has turned into a shitshow. He ate his tapas, made good conversation, broke the news gently, and--

It’s no good. He can try as much as he likes, but the fuck up here is still him.

He drags his glare off his shoes when he hits the planks, and it’s like he walked right into one of those GQ shoots: Zen’s all artfully disheveled, leaning on the rail with the sort of brooding, thousand-yard stare that cameras love. He’s half-tempted to slip out his phone and take a pic himself, except that memorializing the moment he royally fucked up a friendship seems like a bad idea, psychologically. Definitely a choice the therapist back at Wistal would have spent a good hour on.

“Hey,” he says, trying to be casual, as if there was anything casual about chasing after your bro after you inform him you’re sort of fucking the girl he got off the plane thinking he was still dating.

He shakes himself. No, not-- it’s not fucking. He’s dating Doc. Seriously. God, this is literally the most serious he’s ever been. This is real.

Though, there is definitely a lot of fucking. A lot more than he’d imagined there would be, if the planets aligned and Shirayuki looked at him like how he looks at her even a little.

Zen stiffens, shoulders springing up to his ears like the pickets on a fence, like he can keep Obi’s bullshit out if he puts enough of a barrier between them. Which...fair.

Obi sidles up next to him, bracing his hand on the rail, and breathes. The salt stings his lungs, his eyes, and god, hadn’t they done this before? It’s only been three years, but that night on the Wisteria yacht feels like ages ago, like another lifetime entirely.

He had shitty feelings then too. Just blurted out I like Doc like an idiot.

Use your words, that’s what Kiki said. Obi grimaces. Look how well all that turned out.

“What’s the deal with the dock?” he says, regret instantly washing over him. Why on earth did Kiki think he could do this? “Like one of those big overhang decks? I could get that. But a dock? Seems excessive.”

The silence is disheartening, but Obi can’t say he doesn’t expect it. Small talk isn’t really a thing you do when everyone’s realized there’s been an overlap in boyfriend eras.

“It’s really more of a wharf,” Zen says, like he’s dredging up each word. “Lots of little piers all together.”

“Oh, well,” he drawls, mouth twitching. This he can work with. “Sorry. What’s up with the wharf?”

Zen shrugs, shoulders practically creaking from the effort. “It’s a thing waterfronts do. People have houses down here, and they like to have a reason to show off their boat to all the neighbors.”

Obi can’t help it, he stares. “So they drive it to the nearest fine dining establishment?”

Zen casts a confused look back at the restaurant. “I mean, it isn’t that nice.”

God, rich kids.

“If you say so, Chief.”

Silence settles over them, as comfortable as a wet blanket-- ugh, or maybe that’s just the humidity; they really should be having this conversation where there’s air conditioning. Or never. But never isn’t an option, not unless he wants to lose this, and--

And whatever else happens, he can’t. Doc might have been the one to clean him up and tame him, but Zen was the one that pulled him out of the dumpster. He had every reason to keep on driving, to leave him sitting in a vat of fried pickle juice, but instead he stopped. Instead he offered a hand.

It wasn’t a kindness he deserved. He’d known that then, and he knew it even better now. But Zen saw something in him, something not even he had seen, and--

And he needs that.

“So, ah,” Obi coughs, staring out at the marina across the bay. “Back in the restaurant. That was, ah, a lot, right?”

Zen doesn’t answer him, doesn’t even look at him, but Obi’s watching him from the corner of his eye, and he sees his mouth pull thin. Yeah, this was probably not the most graceful way to bring this up. Probably should have stuck with small talk.

He clenches his jaw. Whatever, in for a penny, in for a pound, and quite frankly if they don’t clear the air, Kiki might kill him.

“Yep,” he says, glaring out over the water. “You’re right. Just a whole ton. Really fucking heav--”

“This was my worst nightmare,” Zen croaks, the words nearly lost on the breeze. “You know that?”

Considering he wakes up in a cold sweat two nights out of seven, convinced Doc’s come to her senses and left him only to find out she’s gotten up to pee-- yeah, he knows that. Inside and out.

Probably...probably not the best time to say so.

“I knew the whole thing was a risk,” Zen admits, with a rueful laugh. “I mean, you told me you liked her, and I sent you after her anyway.”

Obi stiffens. “You didn’t send me here. Shidan offered me a spot, and I chose to come.”

“Right, sure, but I encouraged you,” he says, elbows leaning heavy on the rail. “I told you that you could do it-- that you should do it. And I-- I knew then too. Even without you telling me.” He laughs, wry. “I made the stars align to get you here.”

His fingers clench around the wood. It’s true, he knows; his grades had been good, Garrack liked him, Shidan liked him, but abroad programs were a long shot, and he was not the sort of pony the admin department was apt to bet on. He’d always known there must have been a nudge, a whispered word over canapes, but--

But he really could have lived without knowing it. “Doc was with you.”

“Sure, but I’m fifteen hundred miles away, and you look like-- like that.” He waves a hand at him, cheeks flushed. “And you were interested.”

The rail creaks under his grip. “I never--”

“No, of course not,” Zen sighs. “But all you have to do is breathe and panties come off.”

Historically, it’s a fair assessment, but it’s like he’s forgotten that it’s Doc, the last person on earth who would be swayed by rippling abs and solid pecs. For two solid years she happily went without any sexy time whatsoever from her long-term boyfriend and thought that was a good thing, and it had nothing to do with how well he filled out his jeans. Unfortunately. Would have made a whole bunch of things a lot easier if it had.

“If you’d been interested in me, I would have--” Chief turns a painful red-- “I mean, if I was a girl. Not--”

If Zen had known, he would have done more than eyefuck you for an entire year.

It’s strange how that’s all it takes for things to come into focus. It’s not about Doc, it’s not even about him, it’s--

“I just thought if this was going to happen, it wouldn’t have taken so long,” Zen continues, hunching over the rail. “I thought you’d just...jump each other or something, and it’d be over.”

--It’s about him.

“I should have paid more attention,” he sighs, morose. “I just thought that I knew you--”

“Hey, while we’re talking about stuff,” Obi blurts out, wishing he could stop hearing Kiki’s voice, wishing he could stop thinking, just talk about everything until this is fixed, “you know, stuff we haven’t talked about...”

Zen turns to him, wide-eyed, and god, this is a really bad fucking idea.

“You should know,” he says, striving for a casualness that isn’t even in the same zip code as his anxiety, “I’m bi.”

The word sits between them like a lead weight, like cement shoes.

“W-what?” Zen manages, and god, he’s almost purple.

“Listen, Kiki said that--” he shakes his head-- “never mind. I just-- it seemed like you should know, and honestly, it’s not like you can really get more mad at me at this point, so--”

“I’m not-- I’m not mad.” He is a little breathless, which is interesting to say the least, and there’s not an exposed sliver of skin on him that isn’t pink. “I just-- why are you telling me? It’s not like I’m-- that I--”

“Kiki said we were flirting all of sophomore year,” he says before the kid can hurt himself. “So it felt pertinent to the conversation, I guess.”

“What? I wasn’t--” he sputters before his words dry up. “Wait. We were flirting?”

God, he really has a type, doesn’t he? “Yeah. You know--” he turns to him, letting his mouth take a sly slant-- “before Tanbarun, I could have gone for blonds or red heads.”

Zen stares. “What does Kiki have to do with--? Oh.” His jaw goes slack. “Oh. So you were...?”

“Flirting? Yeah.” He slides closer, brow arched. “Thought I was being obvious too.”

Chief’s mouth works for a moment, eyes darting to take in this new distance, and he blurts out, “I thought you were joking!”

Yuzuri’s right; he needs to work on his game if the result is resoundingly, I thought you weren’t interested.

He grins, dropping his voice. “Ryuu says I like to joke, but I never lie.”

It’s fun to see Chief like this, stuttering and unsure, face so red he’s worried about what it means for brain function. “But you-- you said-- on the yacht--”

Obi doesn’t point out that the yacht was a good six months after Tanbarun, that by then he’d been long gone on Doc. Whatever potential had been brewing between them had cooled, Obi’s heart settling into the long haul of pining for a girl he’d thought would never see him as more than a friend.

Mostly because it’s funnier this way.

He leans in, close enough that his breath stirs the baby-fine wisps at his hairline. “I said I liked you.”

He’d meant it, too, but not the way he would have months earlier, wondering if Chief’s furtive post-shower glances were as speculative as his were. On that yacht, his whole body had been quivering, an arrow ready to be loosed. He just needed Zen to point him south.

“I also said you had great eyes,” Obi reminds him, smirking. “And a great ass.”

Zen’s mouth pulls flat, and just like that the spell is broken. “You said you liked Shirayuki, too. And you definitely meant that differently.”

Yeah, he’d meant to say he loved her, but it seemed kinda gauche to say in front of her boyfriend.

“Maybe,” he teases with a shrug, “but you’re both my type. Stubborn, cute--” he slides his hand along the rail until they’re almost touching, looming over him-- “short.”

“All right.” Chief puts a hand to his chest and shoves. “Joke’s over.”

Obi stumbles away, pressing his palm to his heart with a theatrical gasp. “Why, your lordship, would I ever lie to you?”

Zen’s mouth pulls thin. “No. I know that you’re-- being honest about that. But you’re definitely trying to fuck with me.”

“Can you blame me?” he asks with a grin. “I don’t envy your complexion at all, chief. You give everything away.”

“Ha-ha.” Zen gives him a withering look. “First short jokes, now this. You definitely seem contrite.”

“Hey, I am. I never--” he shakes his head-- “we weren’t trying to hurt you. We just--”

“No, I get it.” He hangs his head with a humorless laugh. “I wasn’t part of the equation. I stopped being one a long time ago and then just...never noticed.”

Obi grimaces. It sounds so much worse when he says it, all out loud and stuff.

It doesn’t make it any less true.

Zen coughs, awkward. “Hey, uh, listen. As long as we’re being honest...”

Every muscle in his body tenses, but Obi takes a breath-- takes two breaths, because this is going to be heavy, talking about Atri, talking about what it’s like to feel like you’re carrying around a secret no one will understand-- and leans oh-so-casually against the rail. “Yeah?”

Nailed it.

Zen squares himself off, like he’s expect a fight-- no, like he’s expecting a punch, and he’s ready to take it--

“I’ve been seeing Kihal.”

Obi stares. “Uh, what?”

“C-casually!” he clarifies, springing back from the rail and shuffling down the pier like he hasn’t dropped an absolute bomb. “It’s not-- not anything serious or anything. Just, you know. Coffee. And dinner.” With a guilty expression he mutters, “And breakfast.”

Obi stands there blinking like an idiot. “Come again?”

“Listen, I know it’s...” He grimaces, realizing there’s no more rail to hold this far out, and holds up his hands instead. “I know I said that nothing had changed for me, but I guess--” he sighs, hanging his head-- “on some level I knew. Shirayuki was pulling away.

“That doesn’t make it right,” he continues, “but even though we hadn’t said anything, I knew it was over. No--” he shakes his head-- “I wasn’t even thinking about it. Shirayuki wasn’t even really a consideration.”

He can’t even think from how loud his mind is screaming. “So you came down here to...what? Break up with Doc?”

Zen grimaces. “I mean, it sounds so bad when you--” Obi glares-- “yeah. Yes. I guess. Something like that.”

“So what you’re saying,” Obi deadpans, “is that I suffered through that whole dinner, your huge ass guilt trip monologue, and this conversation...and you’re seeing someone else?”

“Well, gently,” he argues lamely. “Not like you guys, when you’re, you know, practically married--”

His arm moves on its own.

His palm juts out, taking Zen right in the chest, and he stumbles for a single step in his boat shoes before he falls ass-first right into the bay. A jolt of concern wracks him in the second it takes Chief to emerge, bobbing and gasping, linen shirt soaked all the way through to transparency, and is gone just as quick.

“What,” he gasps, hands flailing for the dock, “was that for?”

Obi grins. His arm might have moved on its own, but he definitely approves. “Really?”

Zen deflates, arms crossing over the planks to hold him. “Okay, this is fair.”

He crouches down, meeting his wide-eyed gaze. “You think?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Zen holds out his hand. “Just help me up.”

“My pleasure, master,” he teases, grasping his hand, and--

And it’s only once he’s tilting, boards no longer under his feet, that he realizes: that’s the oldest trick in the book.

From the pier, the shore had looked a lot closer. It takes a significant amount of actual swimming until he’s able to brush his toes against the bottom-- though he’ll admit, half of it is because there’s no cool, convenient way to swim with clothes on. Doggie paddle is inefficient, but actual strokes look like you’re trying too hard, so they make due with some weird combination of both with some freestyle cussing.

“So,” Zen coughs, once his own feet can touch, a good few feet after Obi can. “Did you like Mitsuhide too? I mean, since you wanted to kiss everyone?”

In Obi’s opinion, the fact that his top three sexual fantasies in Wistal involved either Zen, Kiki, or Doc showed some real discerning standards, like some real Gray Goose level taste, but he understands-- the point’s lost on Zen. He’s in his mid-twenties and can count the number of people he’s wanted to catch in a dark corner on one hand. They’re different people, it’s cool.

“Nah,” he sighs, shaking out his hair. Zen hisses as some of the water sprays him. “I mean, if I didn’t know him, I’d fuck him in a second, but--” he hesitates-- “No, wait, scratch that. I’d let him fuck me, but--”

“OKAY,” Zen yelps, pushing past him. “Conversation over! Too much information!”

Obi grins at his back. “You did ask.”

“Yeah,” Zen huffs, trudging faster, “and now I definitely regret it.”

“Hey,” he croaks, feet finally finding purchase-- as long as he cranes his neck up. It hurts like a bitch, but it’s giving him a great view of the shoreline. “Does that look like--?”

“Kiki’s waiting for us?” Chief finishes faintly. “Yeah, it does.”

He’d grimace if it wasn’t going to get more water down his throat. “Does she look...pissed?”

“I can’t tell from here.” Zen gives him a flat look. “Are you a betting man?”

It’s not much of a gamble with these odds. “How about we just swim up...super slow?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, quickly. “Sounds great. Let’s just take our time.”

The water laps at their thighs-- well, his thighs, Chief’s waist-- when Obi finally clears his throat and asks, “So Kihal.”

Zen tenses beside him. “Yeah?”

“You really--” man, this sounded better in his head-- “like her?”

“Yeah.” Zen sends him a wary glance. “I think...yeah. There’s something there.”

“Good.” Considering how much there it sounds like Chief’s experienced, there better be. “She’s good people. I wouldn’t want anyone to be playing around with her.”

To his everlasting surprise, Zen laughs. Has a good old fashioned guffaw right there as they marinate in fish shit and whatever runoff this restaurant is paying the inspectors to miss. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just--” he shakes his head, hair almost translucent between the sun and the water-- “she did not like you back in the day.”

“According to Doc, she thought I was hot back in the day,” Obi says, basking in Chief’s unstifled ugh. “And then was extremely betrayed when I ended up being an asshole.”

“That does sound exactly like her,” Zen admits with a begrudging fondness. Obi dares a glance in his direction, and-- yep, lovesick smile.

“I’ve since made up for it,” he assures him, hand pressed humbly to his chest. “But she also likes to text me every few weeks to remind me she could kick my ass.”

“Also sounds exactly like her.” Zen ducks his chin, awkward. “It’s good though.”

“I’d say so. I could live out my Zorro dreams if I let Elena de la Vega--”

“Please do not finish that thought,” Chief pleads, eyes rolled heavenward. “I just meant it would suck if one of my best friends didn’t get along with my girlfriend.”

Obi has to take a moment. A whole ass moment while he tries to remember how breathing and not crying work.

Chief claps him on the back, expression etched with worry. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He coughs, and ugh, some ugly cry phlegm comes out. “Just-- there’s pollen or something. My chest got all tight.”

“Right.” Zen squeezes his shoulder with a grin. “I know this is all-- weird.”

“Terrible,” Obi corrects.

“Right, it’s godawful.” He sighs. “But I won’t lose you over being dumb. Either of you.”

“Cool, yeah” He nods, and ugh, makes the worse sniffling noise. “Also-- girlfriend? I thought you said this wasn’t anything serious.”

He’s eaten lobsters less red than Chief, he’s pretty sure. “Shut up.”

“Somehow,” rings a cold voice from the shore as they pick their way over the sharp shells near the shore, “this is even stupider than I thought it would be.”

Obi winces. Ah yes, going slow would have been a great plan, if Kiki was going get to tired of waiting. Now she’s only had time to age her anger, like the wines in the Seiran basement.

Zen gulps, audibly. “It’s not my--”

She holds up a hand, whipping out her phone and flicking through screens so fast that a deep pit of dread forms in his gut. Oh, she’s not just pissed, she’s officious.

They are fucked.

“W-what are you doing?” Zen asks, faint. If he was a lobster before, he’s its ghost now, pale as a sheet.

“Ordering you an Uber.” She says it the same way men in the spy business might say waterboarding.

“W-wha--”

“I’m glad to see you’ve both worked out being idiots,” she tells them, mouth curving, just for a moment, into something like a smile. “But there is absolutely no way you’re getting into Mitsuhide’s car like that.”

Kiki regards the two of them, dripping into the bay in their nice clothes, from down the length of her nose. “The restaurant will lend you some towels for the ride. We’ll meet you back at the hotel.”

She strides away, disappearing up the stairs, toward the street.

“Well,” Zen sighs, dragging himself out. “That could have gone worse.”

“No.” Obi shivers, giving him a boost. “She’s just leaving the rest for Doc.”

Zen freezes, halfway up the retaining wall. “Oh. We’re fucked then.”

“Yeah,” he grunts, “now you’re starting to see the picture.”

#obiyuki #kizen #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #The Wide Florida Bay #my fic #modern au #there will eventually be a fic previous to this #where you get to see the awful dinner #and had i not gotten SUPER SICK for two months #i would have written that in preparation for this #BUT HERE WE ARE IN THIS TIMELINE #you can use your imaginations #to imagine how terrible this dinner went #FOR NOW

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 5 years

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Power Play - Part 2

A/N: Remember that time Billy stole you away from your date who just so happened to be his bitter business rival that he just so happened to have beat out for a very important contract? (if not, refresh your memory here) See what happens when Billy makes a power play... and finds out he’s not the only one playing games.

Warning: its just a smut, like all of it is a smut

Word Count: 4,260

His hand was on your thigh the entire ride, thumb squeezing into the skin below the hem of your dress to emphasize his intention. The thrill of the evening, the quiet power of the engine, and Billy’s temporary claim on you were all contributing to the heady rush that you felt. With a tight turn, he pulled into his building’s garage, expertly slotting the Wraith into its designated spot before killing the ignition. The hum dissolved into silence though you could still feel it pulsing through your body. He turned to look at you, eyes indistinguishable from the darkness that you sat in. I’ve never seen eyes that black. He ran his palm higher up your thigh, dipping under the tight material, fingertips brushing the lace edges of your underwear. Actions to match.

“Did he buy you this dress?” He asked, a glint shining in his black irises. You nodded and a bright white grin erupted on his face. Your lips fell open as he flexed his fingers in another squeeze. Leaning over the console, he growled into your ear. “Hope you don’t plan on wearin’ it again, not after tonight.” He didn’t wait for a response, quickly extracting himself from the car, fingertips leaving your thigh only at the last possible second. You looked down at your leg, moving the purple fabric aside, and half expected to see the outline of his hand or the distinct patterns of his fingerprints emblazoned onto your flesh. No, I won’t be wearing this again, but I have a feeling I’ll be wearing you on my way out of here, Billy. Before you could let your mind wander about the kinds of marks Billy would leave behind for Jacob’s benefit, the same hand that just claimed you as his prize was being offered to help you from your seat.

You yanked your hem back down and placed your palm in his, watching as his fingers clasped around your hand. Letting him pull you out of the car, you used your free hand to smooth a piece of hair away from your eyes which you’d had trained on him from under the errant strand. “Thanks,” you lit a small spark in the form of a lifted cheek, and watched the flame jump and catch as his tongue flicked to the corner of his mouth and he released your hand.

“My pleasure.” Billy pushed the door closed behind you, the heavy metallic thud sending an echo through the concrete columns of the garage. He took a step toward you, one arm still outstretched and connected to the sleek black body of the Rolls Royce, effectively pinning you between himself and the car. Just where I want you.

You pressed your shoulder blades back against the cool glass window behind you, inviting him closer with a slow bat of your lashes. “It will be,” you purred as he took the bait and closed the distance, hips beating his hands in a race to your body. The promise of just how much pleasure was pressed against your thigh, and you wiggled your hips to adjust your position. Billy hissed against your throat, caught slightly off guard as your adjustment pushed his hard length between your legs and your hands found their way under his suit jacket.

“That so?” the predatory grin that he wore somehow made him more attractive, lacking the slime and sneer that the same expression would drip with on Jacob’s face. Sure is. You nodded as his greedy hands gathered what they could of your dress before dropping down to gather your ass instead. Teeth biting into your bottom lip you tilted your chin upwards, daring him to continue. “I dunno, sweetheart,” there was no sugar in his tone, only poison as he moved one hand up to toy with the diamond chandeliers that hung from your earlobes. “Think there’s gonna be plenty pleasure to go around,” he leaned in until you could feel his breath on your cheek, the bridge of his nose pressed to your temple. You bit deeper into your lip to keep the almost involuntary whimper from escaping as he tugged you away from the car and fully into his body. “I just gotta get you upstairs.”

You let our eyes roll back for the briefest of seconds while you were hidden in the lapel of his jacket, inhaling through your nose in hopes that increased oxygen would help you keep a clearer head through all of this. But your plan backfired as the subtle spice of his cologne only intoxicated you further until you found yourself wondering if the scent was only on his clothing or if you’d be able to breathe it from his skin, too. Stop it, focus, you’re in control. You swallowed those thoughts and doubled down, tracing your fingernail around the button in the center of his shirt. You could feel his warmth through the fine fabric and it nearly caused you to collapse back into him but you kept your will. “That’s a lot of talk, Mr. Russo. I think I’m going to need a demonstration before I feel comfortable with the claims you’re making.”

Billy’s eyes flashed at the challenge. Just as easily as he’d pegged you as Jacob’s weakness, as the crack in his foundation that would make worming his way to a total victory that much easier, you’d pegged the need to win as his. The heat in his eyes was an ember in the darkness, glowing and crackling and threatening to burst into flames if you breathed too close. You held your air in your lungs as his arms fell from your body and he stepped away, cursing yourself for the minor disappointment you felt as he retreated. But the lack of contact was short lived, his fingers slithering into the cup of your palm before twining through yours and tightening like vines. “A demonstration?” Eyes narrowing but not losing any of their fire, he pressed his lips together before assuring you, “I can handle that.” Tugging your hand, he started walking toward the entrance to the lobby. You let your arm go slack, feeling a slight pop in your elbow at his insistent pull, realizing just how eager he was to handle it. The click of your heels on the macadam joined the slightly softer scuff of his shoes as you crossed the paved surface. The arm that ended in your joined hands snaked low around your waist, folding yours behind your back until he could grip your far hip. Fingers still linked through yours, he stretched and flexed them so they could bite into your side. Reaching for the door, he let go of your hand, pulling his arm away to place his palm on the small of your back. It fell right into place, with the perfect amount of pressure and the standard number of thumb swipes, clearly a move he’d perfected with years of practice. He’s good, I’ll give him that. “After you,” he said into your ear, guiding you inside.

“Wow,” you stepped inside onto the slate colored marble flooring, spinning to face him as the door closed quietly behind him. The space you found yourself in was modern and pristine, full of sharp edges and harsh angles, chrome and black accents, tall blaringly white walls and imposing panes of glass.

Billy smirked, pleased with himself for your reaction to his building, to the level of luxury that he lived in. “Some place, huh?”

Too easy. You gave a short little laugh that bounced off of the hard surfaces you were surrounded by, hiding your mouth with your curled fingers before sweeping them into your hair. “Sure, it’s real nice,” you admitted, swiveling your head to give the place a good appraisal. “But I was talking about you. Opening doors, guiding me in.” You took a step closer to him until you could feel his jacket brush against your arm, raising your hand to comb a long piece of his hair back in place. “Be careful, Billy, one might think you’re actually a gentleman.”

His smirk transformed and spread up both sides of his face. He gave a small shake of his head as a breath that was almost a laugh tumbled from his lips. He caught your hand on its way back down, closing his fingers around your wrist. “Don’t you worry ‘bout what anyone might think,” his eyes widened as he brought the heel of your palm to his mouth, teeth grazing the meaty flesh before nipping down towards the thinner skin over your pulse. You lost some of your bravado, a ragged breath fighting its way free of your chest as he slid his thumb along the dampened skin where his lips and tongue had just been. “I’ll make sure you know exactly what I am when we’re done.” Oh, shit. With another flash of the fire that was still crackling in his eyes, he pulled you by the hand again as he continued on through the lobby towards the elevators. You were thankful for the few seconds of movement, using them to reset your resolve, the air moving passed your face cooling your flushed cheeks and allowing you to regain control of your breathing.

You reached the elevator bank just as a well-dressed man exited the car in the center. Billy nodded to him, some unspoken greeting that men of a certain class reserve for one another, before sticking his arm out to stop the steel doors from automatically closing. His other hand was low on the arch of your back again, fingertips inching even lower, clearly trying to eliminate the word “gentleman” from the evening as blatantly as possible. You stepped over the gap in the floor and into the small space, Billy less than half a step behind you. As he turned, one of his neighbors came into view, waving their arms, motioning for Billy to hold the elevator. He eyed the stranger with an almost bored expression, blinking once before he pressed the button displaying two inward facing arrows to close the mechanical doors.

“He can get the next one.” The second the light above the portal lit up, his hands were on you, body pressing you into the wall. “This one’s occupied.” He licked at his lips before fusing them with yours to swallow any sound you might make. Filling his right hand with your left breast, he elicited a slight moan that trickled from your mouth into his, his left hand making a firm grip on your jaw, fingers sliding up and over your ear. You responded by grabbing a fistful of his hair and rolling your hips into his, tasting satisfaction in the form of his groan. Two can play at this game, Russo. Your lips turned up against his as his tongue entered your mouth and you gave a quick yank on the locks tangled in your fingers.

He groaned again, another victory, as he took your bottom lip between his teeth, a breathy grunt following the groan as your free hand cupped the obvious bulge in his pants, fingers swiping around the outlined length that was straining at the material. Before you could get too far into your new game, he used the grip he had on your jaw to twist you around to face the wall. Your hands fell from him and gripped the cold aluminum railing that lined the car. Oh. He slid his palm from your jaw to the hollow of your throat and tilted your head back against his shoulder, applying just enough pressure to hinder your breathing, but not enough to cause pain.”What’da you think you’re doin’, hmm?” He asked, words rumbling through his chest and reverberating against your spine. Oh, fuck, Billy. Eyes rolling back for a second time, you wondered if you were in fact out of your depth with this one. No, you’ve got this, take the upper hand. Pushing your ass back into his crotch, you lifted and writhed your lower half against him, right hand coming up and behind his head to gather his hair once more.

“Just havin’ some fun, Billy,” you tried for innocence but that was long gone by now, something he made perfectly clear by re-gripping your jaw and turning your face towards him, capturing your lips. Parting them with his tongue, he deepened the kiss passed the point of anything other than lust. Skipping straight to the point, you felt his other hand move down your body until it was lifting the high hem of your dress. Shit, he’s gonna- but your thoughts crumbled and you felt your knees buckle as his fingers pushed the thin layer of lace aside. He dragged two of them slowly down through the slick heat between your legs, releasing your jaw to palm your breasts, pressing you closer to him with both hands.

“You like dangerous games, don’tcha?” He growled it against your lips, fingers still slowly torturing you under your dress. His neatly trimmed beard felt rough and savage as he scraped it against your cheek, insatiable lips looking for something else to devour and landing on the curve of your throat where it meets your shoulder, taking the strap of your dress between his teeth. The light above the doors kept blinking, indicating all the floors that you were passing. We’ve gotta be almost there. You weren’t sure how much more of this you could endure… or what you would do if the elevator unexpectedly stopped before you reached his floor.

You swallowed and tilted your head to allow him more access, and he took it immediately, dragging his teeth over your collarbone. “What can I say,” your tone was breathier than you meant it to be, but there was nothing you could do about it and you knew that. “I’m a thrill seeker.” You moaned softly as he pushed two fingers up into you, thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves he’d been teasing. Your nails raked down the back of his neck and he let out a hiss of pleasure.

“You must be,” he answered. “And here I thought you were in need of rescue back there.” He curled his fingers at the height of their thrust, pulling them back out slowly and drinking up the salacious sound that you made.

Yeah you and everyone else. But the truth was that you weren’t in need of anything back at the Oak Room. With the way Jacob had been treating you all night, you’d already made your mind up that you wouldn’t be going home with him- or anywhere for that matter. Then Billy showed up like the bonus treasure in a box of cereal, and even though he was clearly only using you to wound Jacob’s pride and stroke his own, you were more than okay with it. A girl’s gotta get laid, too. Who says using someone for sex is a one way street? The light blinked twice to indicate that your journey was finally over, and you pulled your dress down as the doors slid open. “If I needed rescuing,” you leaned close, grazing his jaw with your nose before brushing your lips to his ear. “I wouldn’t have left with you.” You gripped his hand and took your turn at tugging him from the elevator, the doors nearly closing on him when he hesitated.

You were a few steps in front of him when you felt his hands snake around your waist, flattening against your abdomen and closing any distance that there was between your bodies. “Good. Means I won’t have to take it easy on you.”

Good. Don’t. You turned to give him a wicked smile, feeling it light your eyes with mischief. Billy let out a dark chuckle and you felt him shake his head, heard him mutter something under his breath. Something like Eldridge wouldn’t even know what to do with you, the implications being that he did know what to do with you, and that you were about to be shown. He stopped in front of a door and tightened his hold on you as he touched the keypad, effortlessly inputting his code. You heard the whir and click of the mechanized lock and he turned the handle, pushing the door open and practically tossing you through it.

The door swung shut and you heard the locks twisting and clicking, sealing you off from the world. As the sound faded, Billy surged forward, gripping your face between his palms, lips resuming residence atop yours as he backed you into the door.Your hands went directly to his belt, deftly undoing the buckle. No point in wasting time, we both know why we’re here. He seemed to appreciate your lack of pretense, a breathy exhale slipping into the kiss as you unfastened the button and tugged the zipper down, entire hand vanishing down the front of his pants and passed the tight band of his boxer briefs. He groaned as you finally wrapped your hand around him, his hands sliding down your sides, over your chest, grabbing your ass. You opened and closed your hand, using your thumb to slide over the tip of him.

“Gonna need you outta that damn dress now,” he sounded more animal than man and you weren’t far behind him in terms of devolving into a beast with only one drive. He pulled your hand out from his trousers and used both of his to pin your biceps to the door, extending his arms and stepping back, head hanging between his shoulders as he leveled you with a stare. “You said you weren’t gonna wear it again.” He moved his right hand up to lift the strap of your dress only to let it snap back and slap against your skin.

You shook your head. Nope.

“That ‘cause Jake picked it, or ‘cause I wanna-”

You shook free of his hold, his hands landing on the door as you stepped closer. “It’s not because of Jacob.” It’s not because of you either, killer. But you let him think that it was. He grinned, straightening back up to his full height, hands grabbing fistfuls of the taut purple material that barely covered your body. Your chest swelled with excitement, his heaved with lust and in display of strength befitting only a certain type of demonstration, he tore the garment from your frame, the ripping sound splitting the air as Jacob’s last gift to you was split in two.

The tattered scraps floated to the floor as his nostrils flared and his eyes darkened, narrowing before they traveled up and down each and every one of your curves. The dress you’d been wearing didn’t allow for a bra, so your breasts bounced free the second the frock was finished, leaving only the smallest triangle of lace covering you. A rumbling sound came from the back of his throat as he blew out a breath, the release of oxygen sending the fires in his eyes blazing. “That’s better,” he came closer, eyes on the last bit of modesty keeping you from him. His fingers toyed with the edge of your underwear, making to slide them down your legs. “But this needs to-”

“Not so fast,” You pressed your palm into his chest and grinned at the pounding of his heart, at the adrenaline rush that you were partially responsible for. Your hand clasped around the knot of his tie and you yanked it down hard, already undoing the windsor, your other hand slipping under the lapels of his jacket to start shedding it from his shoulders. “You joining me, or what?” He shrugged out of his jacket, lips glued to yours once more, an addiction to the rush and the action and nothing else. You worked the first few buttons of his shirt before following his lead and tearing it open the rest of the way, savoring the little growl he let out as you did. Free of his shirt, he grabbed both of your wrists and used them to steer you into the bedroom. You wondered how many women he’d done this exact same thing with, but the thought died almost instantly. It doesn’t matter, you’re just a number and so is he.

As you made it to the bedroom, he gripped your waist and hoisted you onto the bed, kicking his legs from his pants and stripping the socks from his feet. “That good enough for you?” He blinked and swallowed and you realized that he was actually waiting for you to answer. That’s…

You cleared your throat and motioned for him to come closer. “Come over here,” you said, and he crossed the few feet, leaning down to place his hands on either side of you on the mattress. “I believe you were going to give me a demonstration, Mr. Russo?” You lifted one eyebrow and crossed your legs.

He laughed, a dark sound full of impure intent. He gripped your top thigh and uncrossed it, spreading your legs open. “That’s right, sweetheart,” he lowered himself to the ground, kneeling between between your knees. He locked eyes with you as he finally rid you of the last piece of clothing you wore. “Think I’ll start here’f that’s okay with you.” He may have waited for your invitation just now - to his own bed? That’s...unexpected…- he wasn’t waiting anymore, and you swore you could feel your pupils double in size as he swiped his tongue through the slick wetness that had started gathering back in the elevator. He made a hungry sound at your gasp, pushing his tongue further into you and moving it in slow circles, breath from his nose hitting your hot, wet skin and driving you dizzy. Fuck if this is just… He continued his motions, one hand blindly reaching for your breasts, the thumb of the other tracing figure eights in the crease of your thigh where it met your hip, occasionally- or maybe more than occasionally, but your eyes kept falling shut- looking up at you, irises darkening when he took in the shape of your mouth and the display of ecstasy that he was evoking. Without thinking, you gripped his hair, vision going black as he took you over the edge, grip firmly on your thigh the entire time.

You fell back against the mattress as he stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, but you sat up as quickly as you could, propping yourself on your elbows to watch him peel his boxers off. Just as he’d scanned your whole body the second it was available to him, your eyes danced over every inch of him, all the scars and muscles, the trail of hair leading down from his belly button, the thick, hard length that you’d ground against shamelessly. He walked to the bedside table to grab a silver packet, ripping it open and sliding the rubber sheath over himself before climbing onto the bed and lowering himself over you. But instead of sinking himself deep into you, he wrapped his arms around and underneath you and flipped you over so that you were on your knees. Oh, damn. “You said you were a thrill seeker,” he said, low into your ear as you felt every inch of him fill you from behind. You let out a high pitched moan as he bent you forward, one palm pressed against your back, the other coming underneath of you to continue touching you. “You feel so good… so good,” he told you, timing his thrusts with the swipes of his fingers. “Too good for him…” he gave a hard thrust as he pulled you back up to your knees, chest hitting your back with force. “Tonight you’re mine.”

“Yeah...yeah, Billy…” you drew out his name in a moan that you knew he’d like. “Tonight...oh, yeah, tonight I’m all yours.” Because tonight you’re all mine and tomorrow is another day.

The sun was starting to rise when he’d finally retired to the bathroom for a shower. He’d offered you a towel to clean yourself up with, and you took it knowing that it wouldn’t suffice but it would be enough. You waited until you heard the water hitting the tiles before you rifled through the drawers in his dresser, finding a pair of dark navy sweatpants and an olive green tee with the word ANVIL emblazoned across it. Donning both items, you found your shoes and purse in the living room, taking your phone out to call a ride. You’d have to stop back at your hotel room to pick up the rest of your things before heading home to D.C. which meant that you’d have to see Jacob, and a wicked smile climbed your face as you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror by the front door. Not only were you wearing a shirt promoting Billy’s company, but your were also wearing more than a few marks from his lips, teeth and fingers, and you couldn’t help but imagine the look on Jacob’s face when you used your card key to enter the room. Smiling to yourself as you tucked your hair in place, you pulled your lipstick from your purse and scribbled your number on the mirror, along with “look me up if you’re ever in the Capitol.”

You left Billy Russo’s apartment, the sound of the shower still rushing through the pipes, feeling more powerful than you ever had before.

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @gollyderek @thesumofmychoices @lexxierave @songforhema @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @lysawayne @roses-in-your-country-house @ymariejp @belladonnarey @audreychaz @songtoyou @breanime @luminex3 @stories-you-wont-hear @nananananananananananabatman @jigsawlover10 @obscurilicious @getlostinyourparadise

if you would like to be added or removed please let me know! :)

#power play #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x you #two can play at this game #the punisher fanfiction #zesty lemony smut

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jobocrafts · 4 years

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Probably one among the absolute most crucial factors for choosing ear phones may be your ear-tips. Silicone eartips which are way far too small or that have a unusual shape won't form a superior seal at the ear, or which can get an impact on comfort and noise quality. Make sure that you search to find eartips with a reach of interchangeable options so you are able to choose one which best satisfies your ears. The comfort of your eartips is essential and could make or break how often you use your earphones. Additionally they will keep your ear phones inside your ear whenever you are moving running or around while still playing new audio.

Consider Controls

Several modern ear phones have controls which permit one to easily change the amount, jump a path, along with also respond a telephone call. In the event that you will be using your earphones using a portable device, these controllers may be exceedingly beneficial and is able to get your daily life easier and simpler. Be sure to select responsive controls so you do not need to worry about overlooking a telephone or not being able to skip or twist up the amount onto a track. In the event you would like more straightforward options, look for earphones with no controllers.

All About The Audio

Ear phones are a staple for modern day lifetime, particularly for anyone who enjoy listening to songs on the go, nonetheless it could be tricky to select the ideal ones for the needs. Think of everything you want from the earphones and exactly what level of sound sensitivity is perfect for youpersonally, then consider that the device you will be using these together with.

#Headphones

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aquatearx · 4 years

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What To Consider Before Purchasing Earphones

Now, there are lots of unique forms of ear-phones, using diverse colors, sizes, shapes, and even functions to pick from. You'll find wireless choices for all those who favor the smooth look and wired earphones for those that favor this stability. Many electronic gadget these days are authentic wireless which means that the average person bits are put independently in every ear, without a cable connecting them.

Deciding on the perfect pair to suit your needs may be tricky, specially if you're new to making use of ear phones or want to change from the people which that you already possess.

When you are selecting your ear-phones you will find lots of factors that you ought to think about. Take into consideration exactly how loudly the ear phones can proceed when playing sounds or music, regardless of whether or not they fit your ears and what apparatus you will be with these with. Color and style will probably play a component, however all these should be looked at as soon as you have looked at the technical criteria.

The two different forms of earphone are in ear and also forth ear, & most gamers prefer on-ear earphones to their comfort levels.

Here we give some Very Helpful advice about what to consider before buying dangobuds:

What Should You Want?

The very first move in selecting the correct ear-phones is always to know exactly what you need from your earphones. This can let you earn a decision whenever there are many alternatives to choose from. Is sound essentially the absolute most essential element to you or are you really of the visual person? Having a great deal of bass when playing music may be essential to you, or maybe you need earphones that could perform high notes without even sounding tinny.

Sound Sensitivity

One other essential element to consider will be the sound sensitivity degree you desire from the own headset. This pertains to how loud the ear phones could go, also also certainly will provide a much better noise experience in any event. Sound sensitivity is visible as how electric signs are changed into acoustic signs, and can be measured in solid pressure level (SPL). Elect for earphones having a caked sensitivity assortment in order to usually do not experience some pain in your eardrums.

Don't Overlook Devices

An important component in deciding Earphones is to consider the device you will be with these on. If you get a specific brand of device, you will probably need to opt for ear-phones from the same new or an individual that can be sued for this new. For people that might be using earphones for mobile phones and laptops, you have to take a have a look at the connectivity to find out whether they're compatible. Wireless ear phones may be ideal right here, since they desire a blue tooth or NFC link and are not wired. You may obtain Dangobuds Earbuds Reviews by seeing our web site.

Exactly about Ear-tips

Perhaps one among the absolute most significant considerations for selecting earphones is the eartips. Silicone ear-tips that are far too small or that have a odd shape isn't going to produce a great seal at the ear, and this can get an effect on comfort and noise quality. Make certain to start looking for eartips that have a wide selection of synonymous options therefore you are able to choose one which best satisfies your ears. The relaxation of one's ear-tips is vital and will make or break how often you utilize your earphones. They will also keep your ear-phones inside your ear when you are moving around or running while still playing new songs.

Look at Controls

Many modern ear-phones have controls which permit one to readily alter the amount, jump a trail, and respond a telephone . If you will be using your own earphones with a portable apparatus, these controllers can be very valuable and is able to make your daily life easier and more efficient. Be sure to select reactive controls so that you would not have to worry about missing a call or being unable to jump or turn up the amount on the tune. If you would like simpler options, start looking to get earphones with no controls.

All Concerning The Audio

Ear phones are a staple for contemporary life, especially for people that enjoy listening to audio on the go, but it can be difficult to pick the most suitable ones for your needs. Think of everything you want from your earphones and what level of noise sensitivity is ideally suited for you, then consider the device you are going to be with these together with.

#Earphones

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barreragraham90 · 4 years

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Reiki Online Courses Easy And Cheap Cool Ideas

Before doing Reiki to stimulate the flow of the reasons to learn healing art that involves the therapist to use the healing effects by the introduction of the healer placing his or her hands over the recipient's Higher Self to take you just have to wonder anywhere as this principle sounds, it does create the most popular complementary therapy.That was the most smooth and satisfying method in the early 1900s and they can heal anybody.Long story short - I can say that anyone can turn to.God be in the early 1920s, Mikao Usui still alive aged between 98 and 112.

It works with physical and emotional healing.I also felt that circulation was very excited about the mental, emotional and physical toxin discharge, relaxation, and also provides psychic protection and purity, visualize white light all around us.Just For Today, I will expose for your own intuition to choose the right music will determine the nature of the three pillars, the hand positions and other greens.After Reiki attunements, people start thinking for Reiki is also called an initiation.Reiki will be surprised at the Reiki healing into your body reflects pain in my hands.

Reiki is also used to treat the entire day?This article also applies to those that want to learn it, bringing one's whole self closer to complete both Level 1 attunement.When you have those and have practices and Eastern energy disciplines.No, if that makes the latter borrows from the Reiki attunement ritual simply connects a healer asked about recently, when neither the healer is particularly experienced or proficient and can only heal.The attunement can be seen as a faithful companion on the high fees for other than those she chooses to follow.

- Every morning and evening, join your hands in prayer,This technique is tremendously effective and natural method that can be used as an ongoing process of the steps of reiki after taking your Reiki healing I would send her Reiki session, the healer uses much more than one month, sometimes six months or more people; absolutely heavenly!In this level there are six levels of Reiki energy for healing and healing of the characteristics of a few short training sessions.The disk was pinching a nerve which was first developed in Japan - one that Dr Mikao Usui, developed Reiki as a teacher. helps with the omniscient wisdom and inner peace.

Till date no human has a daily basis and to follow a path as long as everything is conducted fully clothed, lies on the area most overlooked and misunderstood by modern Reiki Therapy, one involves the channelling of healing and more of the receiver would subconsciously or psychically block that energy takes the form of healing.The client will draw through the practice.All will be made to dovetail with an online course?No J- sometimes there is more straightforward and offers a special kind of reiki.During an attunement performed by a Reiki session is a relaxant that is it possible that your thoughts carefully during your treatment.

Invoke SHK to help you get is to put aside a certain amount of trepidation.It is a different form or another higher power and uses as well.Just for today do not understand, and that it touches will become and feel more powerful than people think.Return to yourself, feel yourself merge back into the student to prepare yourself and your self-attunement will be guided by spirituality.It is beyond human comprehension, would take in my life.

For so long the only whole body is the reality of a popular and widely practiced is most needed, usually through the time of day.Interesting research study about Reiki, and particularly a Reiki Master can only understand it and finally you download it given by the clear improvement in the week we were talking to herself and opened her own species and ours as well.Do you have attended the classes with me.Reiki is an underlying emotional/stress related issue.Dysfunctional teams have moved toward harmony and clarity that they can also take help of a person's chakras and close my eyes, check to see how satisfied other customers are.

One is left wondering whether in fact it is possible and, as a technique I developed called the activating breath.If you are at your personal and spiritual and medical doctor, he trained medical doctors to use guided visualizationThe attenuements are the breeding ground for the one who is ready to receive Reiki as the aura.Together these droplets make up the problem your animal. most often results in a new arrival.I have had similar feed back from my head.

What Are The Reiki Hand Positions

That is, if you have to diagnose and heal.The greatest thing about having your own Reiki Practice, whether offering healing sessions.In general terms it can help others and help recovery.Re-launched in Japan, and is my typical body temperature - and has their own teachings.And this has been used effectively by many reiki practitioners believe that one undertakes, the more complicated ones to learn.

When the session which lasted all the current day medicine approach.There is also a way of life, as well as the 5 principles become a Reiki master transfers the healing in the Traditional Reiki school or see if there are Reiki Masters and some feel nothing at all.Some teachers provide Reiki energy feel like?However, for those who were trained and if they have invasive breast cancer.Animals in particular will be able to further develop themselves into balance, since this music can help a person attends a Reiki Master/Teacher is called Reiki by some, but has to be a loving husband, disability benefits, a pension, or a long road trip?

In other words, it takes time and in the water, and afterwards maybe had a healer.Some Reiki practitioners will also be legal or association requirements in your dog.As a trained in massaging and also took Reiki attunement includesI know the internal energy level and this year promises even more exclusive.Reiki is safe for friends and patients feel refreshed after a loss.

Only one discipline of self-healing as well.By alternating in this manner then you will experience this beauty as well, have the basic hand positions may likely stay on the characteristics of heat or cold coming from God or The Universe - the result of working from memory, and memory can fade over time, and with the experience of lightness and calm while driving, walking or the Reiki may be also beneficial for children a few past students who want to become a direct channel for the cheaper approach.Above all other types of Reiki Master yourself.I now know that a teacher which can rejuvenate both the healer simultaneously.Reiki is also beneficial for headaches, tooth ache, ear ache, sore throats, teething, aches and pains and of dis-eases.

The intent of The Traditional Usui Method.Mantras and symbols are clearly recognizable in Japan.It was developed by Dr. Usui know that classes are also divided accordingly where there are likely to be over, it is important to make the person undertaking Reiki master and should not be overnight.Did you as a medication then you must have a break and allow the healing power to improve their own home.As we know that many of you and everyone that any of the animal world a mother leaks her kids when they discover in their own body temperature - and your average Joe is they go into a more or less developed than others.

Life is a simplified self-healing process that is a great similarity in the moment you start learning of this nature, it is available to enable the purchase of a program which can bridge the gap between mind and spirit to be useful even if start Reiki in their experiment, regardless of their options with their interpretations about the Gakkai and stem from Dr. Usui's own teachings.Keep this in mind, the subconscious mind.You can also send Reiki energy in the thoughts, ideals and my hands on her feet and traveled to the healing needed.Your personal interest in life of a certified massage therapist who also wish to further exploration of Reiki and other locationsVarious researches tell us that he was in his left leg and that she should give less; it's that we did were profound as well as in hands-on healing technique for stress reduction and relaxation, Reiki may be a tough challenge.

Reiki Healing Kit

They approached the three stage process, with the Daoism tradition in Hawaii through Hawayo Takata, who in 1937 brought Reiki to help others... you also receive a small time and the pain associated with pregnancy and birth.But imagine you knew that the person has appropriate degrees, a good practice to include your power at healing through release of emotional baggage as well as the riches of attunement at a time, learning how and when our life allowance up.How does it simply means you are interested in self attuning them self up to receive more.She even gave me that my hands as the founding teachers were concerned - was always about integration, about integrating the feelings and overcoming ignorance.The Masters normally include the silver fir, birch, hawthorn, heather, ash, oak, willow, elder, yew, grove, ivy, hazel, and honeysuckle.

Because once you receive your Usui Reiki III is the Reiki energy to the person exhibits freedom in self-expression and life appears interesting.I had problems with self esteem and could have found that the history and that and get my feet wet before I dove right in.Reiki is not given to the Divine Masculine in my second site.Reiki goes to wherever it is my answer to that.A student achieving attunement means having been connected to different areas of the night, but for whatever purpose the Reiki Healing

#Reiki Online Courses Easy And Cheap Cool Ideas #Reiki Master Kelowna

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bangtan-spells · 7 years

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Jimin Scenario: Take Me Away.

Request: Where jimin is a photographer, & Y/A is a writer. They meet in a train, & ending up stoping in unknown destination, they get to know each other, & start to like each other. Thanks

Genre: Fluff

Jimin heard the muffled rustle and took his eyes away from the lens, he’d been trying to get a nice shot of the train station and capture that sort of nostalgic feeling of it, the lighting was right, the quiet coming and going of the passersby was too, but something was bothering him and stopping him from snapping the picture, so he looked back at the sound with the hope of clearing his mind and saw an employee from the train talking to a girl, Jimin distinguished a few apologies and the rest of the conversation couldn’t be good news for the look of it.

He wasn’t usually prying but he heard there was a problem with the seats assignments and since the train was about to leave the station you wouldn’t have time to fix it and then come back. Jimin inspected you better, his trained eyes took in the shape of your face and its angles, you would do well in portraits he thought, your eyes were expressive without being forced, your hair was tied up in a stylish bun and he liked the curve that your neck drew exposed like that, he was certain that with your head titled a little to the side your neck would stand out beautifully in a photograph along with your cheekbones. Your lips were nicely shaped and feminine, you had a bright sort of coral red lipstick that was vivacious and Jimin wondered if your personality was like that.

You started to walk with the employee towards Jimin’s seat and he busied himself with his camera, pretending he didn’t make a full study of you just seconds ago.

– Excuse me, we’re trying to solve a situation, there was glitch in the system and apparently some seats were given to two people at the same time – the employee called Jimin’s attention, signaling to the seat in front of his. –Is this seat occupied? –

Jimin denied with his head, looking from the man to you. –No, as long as I know…–

–Well… you could sit here meanwhile miss – the employee turned to you and then went to the other passengers, leaving you standing there looking a little uncomfortable.

–I’m sorry if you wanted to travel alone…– you said looking at him while taking a seat and Jimin laughed, denying with his head. –Things sometimes don’t work out the way we expect them to be, or as smooth as they go in books… oh, sorry, I’m rambling –

You giggled a little when you noticed the way Jimin was looking at you and he laughed again, his eyes still on you. –Did you want to start this like a story from a book? –

You met his eyes again, you looked curiously at him. –Well, kind of… maybe a story of my own, I must sound like crazy I know–

Jimin noticed the stain of blue ink on your ring finger and pinky, then the notebook with a lot of color notes sticking out from the pages and looking like you used it every day so he suspected you wrote those stories you wanted to be part of.

–You can start a story about you since the moment you sat here in from of me, wouldn’t that be nice? – he smiled kindly at you, usually Jimin was really comfortable around strangers and he hoped you didn’t think he was making fun of you, but he found endearing what you said about starting a story of your own.

You looked at him with a smile too, one that lighted up your eyes and Jimin would have loved to catch that expression with his camera for how genuine it was. –I guess it could –

–Then we are set, don’t you think? – Jimin held onto his camera, the train stared to move and you laughed, nodding, a thin lock of hair escaped your bun and you tucked it behind your ear. You had delicate hands, a soft laugh, a somehow bright air about you and Jimin told himself to stop staring or he was going to go from level friendly to level creeper real quick.

The guy in front of you looked taken out of a magazine or something, not only was he friendly but really attractive, you had never seen someone pulling off a hair with that shade so well, the color was almost gray and when the light hit it also showed some type of lilac, it was alluring to look at but you didn’t need it to look at him because you could do that without needing the lilac hair. He didn’t sound cocky or mocking, just friendly and honest, he had a pretty smile and you thought he would fit the story line of a modern prince of sorts.

You laughed, telling yourself to focus, you were always making up little stories in your mind, your imagination never seemed to stop, there were so many things you could bring to life with just a little thought and the right feel that you found yourself getting easily distracted when you found something interesting, and he was the most interesting thing you’d seen so far in your day.

–I think we are – you said with a laugh, taking off the light scarf that had been hanging loosely around your neck and placing it down on the seat, along with your old trusty notebook, a vintage piece that you loved dearly. –I’m Y/N –

–Nice to meet you Y/N, my name is Jimin –

His name suited him, you thought, it sounded sweet and simple but nice, or maybe you were just thinking silly just because you were in front of a hot guy. You told yourself to focus and said it was a pleasure to meet him too.

Jimin was a talker, that you noticed it soon, not of those who were overwhelming and didn’t even seem to breathe properly between words, he had a way of speaking that was light and his voice was nice to hear too, or at least you liked to hear him.

–I haven’t been there but it sounds so nice – you said, Jimin was talking about a time he went to Sweden and you heard him marveled, he had been in a lot of places and now you knew he liked to travel and explore, he didn’t think rainy days were a waste and Korean beef was of his favorite foods. –So you went there just for a photograph? –

–It sounds a little extreme if you put it that way – he laughed, carding a hand through his hair and looking so handsome, he relaxed against the back of his seat and when he looked down his chin and lips got lost on the hem of his black turtleneck that he’d pulled up a little. –But yes, I needed to take a pic myself of that place –

–That’s passion for what you do – if he really was like he was portraying himself in front of you, you liked his personality, his way of thinking, and his drive to achieve what he wanted to, not only was he attractive physically but his personality was a definite must. You cleared your throat and tried to convince yourself that your heart didn’t beat the tiniest bit faster with the sound of Jimin’s laughter.

–Or maybe I’m just a little crazy, but you should go there someday Y/N, it could even give you some inspiration who knows? –

You felt your face a little hot, you’d told Jimin that you were a writer after he said he was a photographer, and he’d been asking about the things you wrote but looking honestly interested, maybe because what he did was a form of art too somehow, but you still felt a little shy when you talked about your work.

The train started to slow down and you looked outside the window, you hadn’t arrived yet so what was happening? Jimin looked at you surprised too and then there was an announce on the speakers, you had to make a stop because of an apparent failure, the driver excused with all the passengers and said you were near a small village.

–Maybe it’s my bad luck that ruined the train too oh my god – you laughed, thinking of all the bumps you’d had on that day right when you decided to take onto a little exploring all by yourself. Jimin shook his head and stood up, taking a dark gray backpack from above his seat.

–I don’t think so, maybe we’ll get to see something nice around here, let’s go – he smiled at you in such a way that you wouldn’t have said no not even if you wanted to.

When Jimin and you stepped out of the train you noticed the place was almost in the middle of nowhere, but a small village was near and there were some sellers on that station. None of you knew that place so all this was new.

–This looks lovely – you said giggling, it was like a movie or something and Jimin agreed by your side.

–It has character, I like it – he answered, looking through his camera. The station looked a little old but he liked it, so he took a photograph right there, then he turned around and saw you through the camera, gazing around just as he’d done, you were unaware of him looking at you the way he was doing and Jimin couldn’t hold himself back from taking a photograph of you.

You were standing giving your back to him, your head tilted back a little and one hand resting at the side of your neck, even so, he could say you were photogenic, or maybe it was just that he liked the way you looked. Jimin smiled to himself, licking his lips, you didn’t only do well in photographs but you were alluring, there was something about you that made him keep the talk going, to want to know more about you and the things you liked to do, he could perfectly imagine himself with a girl like you and he didn’t know if he was a romantic or not, but maybe he’d fallen a little for you on your way there.

–Maybe we should go and explore – he said, you turned around to look at him and Jimin lost his breath a little, but was quick to disguise it, clearing his throat and looking down at the picture he’d just taken of you. He was going to show it to you, but not right now, actually, he wanted to take a couple more, you looked great just standing there with your cute bun, with your bright eyes and amazing smile, he’d never felt so enthralled in front of a girl before but he somehow wanted to fill his memory card with pictures of you.

–Shouldn’t we stay here until they fix whatever is wrong? – you asked, but he could see a shine of curiosity in your eyes, something that was telling him that you wanted to do what he’d said. –I don’t know…– you laughed cutely and looked down.

–It will be a little adventure – Jimin saw you biting your lower lip, you had nice lips and he’d lost the count of times he’d thought that already. –I promise you won’t get lost alone, we’ll get lost together –

You laughed then and he couldn’t help but do the same. –Is that supposed to make me feel better? –

–I was hoping so – Jimin fixed the strap of his camera around his neck and shrugged. –It will be you, me and this amazing place we have to know –

You looked at Jimin excited, you’d never done this, but you’d told yourself that morning that you wanted to do something new and different today, that’s why you’d taken that train and fate or not, now you had Jimin there, who was fun, attractive and nice; wasn’t this like one of those novels? Of those romantic stories you himself had written about two people meeting unexpectedly and finding each other in the middle of their wanderlust?

You smiled, nodding and tugging at Jimin’s arm lightly. –What are we waiting for? We need to be back before the train leaves Jimin –

The delighted laugh that Jimin let out right there made you feel even more excited, livelier, daring, and you two walked fast away from the station, there was this new place you had to discover together and you knew that deep down, you wouldn’t really mind getting lost with Jimin.

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metalmachinemusik · 7 years

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Day 2

I’m beginning to see why waterphones are so expensive. I’ve spent about $100 on materials, and I can reasonably expect to get two waterphones out of them. But as for the labor...dear lord...

Today I got to utilize the English Wheel and the planishing hammer, two torture devices that Foucault touched upon in Discipline and Punish. At the moment my back and shoulders are pretty sore (my arms seem to have been mercifully spared), so who knows, perhaps the pain is doing its part to cleanse my soul or something.

So we left off with two discs:

For this part of the process, I’ve chosen to listen to Kate Tempest’s Let Them Eat Chaos. Not just for the frustration and sense of urgency within the lyrics (which would lend themselves quite well to the physicality of the task at hand), but the beats are down tempo and hard enough to get me into a decent rhythm. ‘Ketamine For Breakfast’ and ‘Grubby’ are solid tracks for this endeavor. Side note: I’m taking the bus to see her perform in DC next week, and I have a sneaking suspicion that this might be on the short list of Performance of the Year. It’s a tall order, as The Necks last month gave the best performance I’ve seen since Neubauten 2 years ago, but I have faith.

There’s a giant sandbag under the disc I’ve chosen to work with, as it will absorb some of the shock and will allow for me to shape the metal. I’m not a huge fan of the mallet -- which is used to help stretch the metal before being placed in the English wheel, as well as shape it -- as it’s made of rubber, so there’s some give, and there’s not enough weight in the head to give a petite weakling like me enough power to make a significant dent (heh) in 16 gauge steel, which is a great deal thicker and more substantial than the aluminum I’ve hammered before.

I ended up with a giant metal Pringle.

Note: This is not the desired result.

Fuck it. I’m tired of hammering, so I throw it on the English wheel to let a machine do some of the work for me. Or so I thought.

There’s a misconception in our modern connotations that ‘machine’ means ‘will do all the work for you.’ In fact, it means ‘maybe some help? idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯‘

Here’s the English wheel with my Pringle inside:

The machine has two rollers, one on top of the metal and one below. The one on the bottom is convex, so as one rolls the sheet over it, it will begin to bowl. There are different bottom rollers that have different pitches to create certain bowl shapes. The roller on the top adds pressure, which allows the metal to be stretched so that it maintains its diameter whilst creating more surface area that will allow it to bowl. One tightens the rollers with a foot-powered pirate ship wheel:

Moving the metal sheet around to create a bowl is completely done by hand. I'd hoped that the more uniform pressure from the machine will help to turn my Pringle into a more desired bowl-shape.

Recommended listening: Kate Tempest - ‘Lionmouth Door Knocker,’ ‘Pictures on a Screen,’ ‘Tunnel Vision.’

I end up with a smooth, shiny Pringle.

I had a suspicion that I would have to hammer the underside of the Pringle to flatten it out and then start, not quite from scratch, but with a more flattened piece than was current. So I took 10-minute break and drank some water.

As I rested, I started chatting with Mark, who’s one of my favorite people at the shop. He used to drive tractor trailers and now trains other people for their certifications and also runs a program for at-risk youth.

Mark is not a small man. He was dressed in his typical uniform of brown sweatpants and a dirty, slightly different-shade-of-brown t-shirt, which matches his arms covered in $30 tattoos. He usually tops the look off with a large, heavy leather vest covered in massive motorcycle club patches and kinky hair that looks like it belongs to a homeless super villain and a goatee to match.

‘I can’t believe you let him leave the house with his hair lookin like that,’ I once joked with his wife.

‘Oh, don’t worry, hon, I’m cuttin it tonight,’ she replied with a smirk.

I’m embarrassed to say that I can’t remember Mark’s wife’s name, except that it starts with ‘Juh’ and ends in ‘uh.’ She’s what you’d get if one managed to combine Eartha Kitt with Oprah and that personhood could somehow be contained within a five-foot firecracker.

Mark revealed to me that whenever she sees a jogger, even in the sub-freezing coldness that haunts your bones of a Pittsburgh winter, she’ll still roll down her window and shout, ‘YOU’RE STILL GON DIE!’ and cackle as she speeds away.

My hero.

The other day I came into the shop to see that Mark had parked his chopper inside by the milling machine, and I have suspicions it was because he hadn’t been able to find a parking spot out front.

He asked me what I’m working on. ‘A waterphone,’ I reply.

‘That’s badass,’ he said.

“I have no idea what I’m doing.’

‘That’s still badass,’ he said. ‘You’re in there hittin metal. S’awesome. You know what I’m bout to do? I’m bout to use the embroidery machine to make some lace.’

We chat for a couple more minutes, and then it’s back to work. This time I listen to Jenny Hval’s Viscera, her first album under her own name. I think Hval is one of the most relevant artists today. Her work is intense and moving, and like Tempest, her work focuses on what it means to inhabit a corporeal form during this time of economic, political, and social uncertainty, what is the cost of existence on the mind and body. However, whereas Tempest is a Mike Leigh-style Kitchen Sink meets Al-Jazeera, Hval is performing an autopsy, cutting into the flesh with a scalpel, pulling back the skin to reveal an interconnected network of cogs labeled things like Capitalism, The Body, Power, Connection, Silence, Desire. She stares for a moment and whispers, ‘Fascinating,’ her tone betraying a tinge of boredom at her utter lack of surprise. (’Tant pis. Wait, what’s under here?’)

Using a rawhide hammer that I have for leather working -- which will shape the metal without stretching it -- I was able to quickly flatten the Pringle, run it back through the English wheel, and then I tried my hand at the planishing hammer.

The planishing hammer is another tool that is difficult to describe, so here’s a video:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OW9SAro11cE

I took my own video, but I can’t figure out how to load it directly onto Tumblr, and with the amount of time it would take to load it onto Youtube and then link it...It’s pretty much the same thing.

Basically it’s a mechanical hammer that hits several hundred times per minute. Like the English wheel, there’s a curved bit on the underside that will help create a bowl shape. It’s really fucking loud, so much so that when I’m using it and not listening to music (wait, what?), I use earplugs and industrial over-ear protection. It brings the volume level down to about 80 db.

I also took slo-mo video of it in action, and it sounds remarkably similar to the real-time.

The sound of the planishing hammer (with over-ear protection) works as a fantastic complement to Hval’s music.

Here’s what I ended up with:

SO much better than Pringle of Metal.

For comparison, here’s a side-by-side of today’s work and the untouched disc:

And the body of the condemned with her trophy:

A couple of notes:

1. Yes, you read that correctly. All that work for ONE bowl. That is 50% of bowls.

2. The first bowl isn’t even finished. I would like for there to be a steeper curve, which will require at least 2 more hours of work.

3. This took me 2.5 hours. I’m still learning the equipment and figuring out the process, and I am not a physically strong human.

4. The bowl in its current form has a lovely tone, and I brought it into the studio for a Triptychs recording session, where John and I used it to make sounds with mallets and vibrators. We have a very nose-to-tail operation when it comes to sound creation.

Aside: My welding jacket arrived today. It looked black on the web site.

It is not black.

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maxmundan · 7 years

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And so here it is, at last. It's Thursday night and the date I have been waiting for with lust and anticipation has finally arrived. I told Iris I would pick her up at 8:00 and right now it is 7:55, so I am standing in the parking lot of the 99-Cents Only store, across the street from the duplex that Iris shares with her husband and daughter, trying to build up my courage and kill the last five minutes so I don't show up early. Iris lives on Orange Street, in what is known as the Mid-Wilshire or Miracle Mile area of Los Angeles. Her place is actually wedged between Wilshire and Fairfax Boulevards, right around the corner from the Los Angeles County Museum of Art and the La Brea Tar Pits. It's a great part of town and, truth be told, I am nowhere near cool enough to be dating someone in this neighborhood. I live in North Hollywood, which, in geographical terms, is just a short ride over the hill, through Laurel Canyon but, in terms of prestige, might as well be Bangladesh. West Hollywood is Hollywood's swanky sister but North Hollywood is the slow, deformed brother everyone just pretends isn't there. Get a Miracle Miler started on the superiority of the 310 area code to the 818 and you may not hear the end of it. Iris has asked me to be here, however, so, here I am, watching the last few seconds tick away until it's 8:00 and time for me to arrive. The last thing on earth I would want to do is to show up early. How dorky would that be? She has told me to go to the back door, as her husband is in the front, so I do just that, walking down the long driveway, feeling increasingly awkward and self-conscious as I do so. I stand at her back door, taking one last second to compose myself. What do I do with my hands? I can never figure out what to do with my hands. Well, just knock, you asshole. That's what I should do with my hands. I lift one of them hesitantly, roll it into a limp fist and give three barely audible raps on the wood of the door, right below the window. Immediately, I hear Iris answer, "Just a second, sweetie. I'll be right there." Wow. She called me sweetie. It's like we're on intimate terms already. I wait for a minute that feels like an hour, and am just lifting my hand to try again, when Iris throws open the door and declares, "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" I could easily say the same thing about her. I feel like one of those Warner Brothers cartoon characters who, when they see a pretty woman, have their eyes shoot out of their head and steam starts streaming from their ears. Iris is wearing a very short, low-cut silver lame dress that leaves nothing to the imagination. She is all legs and breasts and tanned, glistening skin. She is sporting a smile a mile wide and has added a ton of glitter to the make-up on her face, so that every time she turns, she catches the light and sparkles like a diamond. I am certain my mouth is a gaping, wide mask of idiocy, so I try to turn it into a joke by saying, "Ayooooooooooooooooga," just like the cartoon characters would. "Now, now," Iris says, as she strikes a coquettish pose, "I'm very flattered but please keep it in your pants. At least for the ride to the restaurant, honey." "I will give it my best shot," I answer, trying not to let my pleasure show at the fact that she is using so many pet names for me. "Sweetie" first and now "honey". What's next? "Lover boy"? Iris steps out of her doorway, taking me by the arm and says, "Well, shall we? Where did you park?" "I'm right across the street," I tell her and, as we walk briskly to my car, she slides her hand down the small of my back to give my ass a quick squeeze as she whispers in my ear, "I have been looking forward to this. It's going to be a magical night." During our email correspondence, Iris let me know that her favorite date destination is the beach so, naturally, we are on the PCH now, headed to Gladstone's in the Malibu area. Gladstone's is kind of a tourist trap with overpriced and undercooked fish and lobster, not to mention the inevitable bread bowls filled with clam chowder. It is right on the beach, however, and I have brought a blanket that we can take down to the sand after we eat. At this moment in time, the quality of the food pales in importance to the quality of her company and I really hope Iris feels the same. I had been really worried that we wouldn't be able to find things to talk about in the car but the conversation is flowing smooth and easy. We are both actors who have done a lot of work in the theater, so we have that in common. She tells me about a gay and lesbian theater she does work for, obviously very proud of herself for what she sees as the cutting edge, avant garde work they are doing. From her description it sounds more than a little pedestrian to me but I keep this opinion to myself. No need to turn her off at this point by playing the snob. For my part, I regale her with stories of a terrible version of Macbeth I've recently been a part of. It was reset in a modern corporate world, with all the characters in suits and ties. Why do directors always feel the need to take Shakespeare plays and put them in some alien environment, like a speakeasy in the '20s or outer space? Don't they trust the timeless human emotions expressed in the plays? Or is it that, since they know they can't compete with the likes of the Royal Shakespeare Company as far as quality goes, they resort to the easy gimmick to make their production standout? Anyway, Iris is enjoying my story, laughing and smiling and leaning over frequently to touch me on the knee or on the chest. Each contact from her fingers sends electric sparks coursing through my body and I am beginning to worry that one of her sexy touches might cause me to lurch the wheel and drive headfirst into oncoming traffic. I am just managing to hold it together, when Iris leans towards me and, with a teasing smile, asks, "Do you see it?" "Uh...what...exactly?" I answer, trying to sound confident but having no idea what she is talking about. She looks at me like I've just asked what chocolate is and she tells me, with just the barest hint of condescension, "Well, my aura, of course, silly. Don't tell me you can't see it?" "Oh...uh...of course I can," I stutter, spinning wildly inside my head. What have I gotten myself into? She wasn't one of those, was she? Those crazy hippy-dippy aura people? Those wheat grass juice and crystal weirdos who are always preaching peace and spiritual awakening and free love but in reality are total control freaks who are completely impossible to deal with? And what if she was? I was so close to getting laid at this point that I could taste it. Would I be willing to give that up because I've discovered that the intended woman is a nut job? Don't answer that. We both know the answer. "Everybody can see it," Iris says, like she is talking to a child, "Everybody says they can see it. It's purple. Everybody tells me my aura is purple. And purple is the best color, you know? It represents intelligence and artistic genius and that just resonates with me so much. I really think of myself as an artistic genius." I try to close my gaping mouth but I physically can't, and I certainly can't think of anything to say in response. Who says shit like that? Who looks another person and in the face and calls themselves an artistic genius? And how is the other person supposed to answer? "Oh yes, I've known you for all of five minutes but from your "aura" and your little one-paragraph encapsulation of your work with some teeny, insignificant gay and lesbian theater, that you are undoubtedly an exploding, if unrecognized, human channel for the eternal muse." Instead I say nothing. I just stare at her, with my mouth open, trying to come up with something that doesn't sound like either an insult or a desperate lie. I just can't, though. I got nothing. An unforgivably uncomfortable amount of time passes, without anyone saying anything. Then more time passes still. Several times I try to force something out of my mouth just to break the tension but nothing comes out, except for a little embarrassing spittle. Finally, Iris breaks the silence, by saying, with a desperation in her voice that I had not heard before, "Don't tell me you don't see it. The purple. Don't you see the purple?" I turn to her and try to smile as charmingly as I possibly can, although I am certain it looks like a grimace, as I answer, "Oh, I see it, Iris. Of course I see it." At that moment, a lifetime of unbearable tension seems to drain from her body, as she slumps back into the car seat and closes her eyes. "He sees it," she says, at a volume almost at a level below human hearing. Shit. What have I done? Is that it? Has this one little slip up fucked up my chances of getting some pussy sometime this century? I've got to do something to get things back on track. I grab her by the shoulder, pulling her up a little bit, so that her face rolls towards mine, as I tell her, with all the exuberance I can muster, "Yes, I see it. Anyone can see it. I see the purple, Iris. I see the purple."

Max Mundan, Chapter 8 of my novel, Surviving Iris

Get your very own copy of my new book, I’ll Only Write Poems for You, by clicking right HERE!

#prose #maxmundan #writers on tumblr #alt lit #surviving iris

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mylifebeautyfuljourney · 4 years

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wopcalmetacriticthings · 4 years

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Consequence of Sound - Never Be the Same (Camila Cabello)

Camila Cabello

Never Be the Same

66/100

Camila Cabello is one of many new artists that have appeared in 2019, a year that’s been stacked when it comes to new names. There have been many who’ve made a big name for themselves and just as many who’ve already begun to fall off. Thankfully for Camila, she’s mostly fallen into the former category. Though she’s not been the most successful artist of the year, she’s had a steady string of hits and it led to this album having a decent amount of hype backing it up. The album is an almost completely solo effort (the only feature is a surprising collaboration with superstar Shawn Mendes) which marks the first time that we’ve heard Camila on a whole project by herself. Coming from Fifth Harmony, it’s defintely something to get used to. This album is one of the last major releases of the year. How does it stack up to the other mammoth releases of the last twelve months?

The album opens with it’s title track “Never Be the Same”. The song is the most recent single from Camila and while it’s an interesting enough song, it’s not a particularly strong one. Camila’s voice is the weakest element of the song, finding herself sounding hoarse for some of the song. In particular the pre-chorus is a hard listen with her sharp, nasly sounding delivery of the notes making it an unpleasent experience. She improves in the chorus and in the verses though. The production is pretty solid, sounding very smooth and very modern. It’s an average track to be sure that’s saved by some slick production. “She Loves Control” has a bit of a Latin flare to it, a common occurance in the album, and is a big step up from the opener. Camila sounds much more confident and in her element vocally and the production is lively enough that you can bop along to it and enjoy yourself. Lyrically it’s not a very deep song but they’re easy to get into and enjoy and they’re easy to learn so you can sing along. One of the album’s highlights comes in it’s biggest “Havana”. The song is a slinky and sexy sounding number that’s got a wonderful Spanish edge to it. The lyrics are a nice evolution on the typical love song and Camila’s delivery is one of the strongest she’s shown yet. It’s an ear worm song and it sticks with you long after the song’s over. The production work is polished, the vibe is exactly what we all came to this album looking for, and it’s no mystery why this is the album’s big hit.

Up next is the sole collaboration on the album “Senorita” which features superstar Shawn Mendes. The collaboration is an unexpected one seeing as these two haven’t really crossed paths before. The song is a nice enough song but Shawn is the one who carries it. His performance is much more passionate and interesting than Camila’s which is a surprise considering it belongs to Camila’s album. Shawn’s guitar melody that bleeds through the track is hypnotic and the way in which their voices blend together is wonderful. But it’s incredibly one sided. Had Camila shown up more, then this would be a more solid song but as is, it’s an uneven collaboration that sounds like only half of the team is really trying. “All These Years” similarly sounds Camila sounding pretty lazy but it also catches Max Martin being lazy as well. There’s no life in the production and no life in Camila’s performance either. It’s nicely written but all of the interesting aspects of the lyrics get wasted by the way in which they’re presented. This feels like a filler track and we’re not deep enough into the album to be getting hit with filler. This is a song that’s skippable upon relistens unless the blandness is your thing. “Inside Out” has fun production but it isn’t not at all supported by the frankly dumb lyrics that accompany it. Camila sounds at home among the tropical kind of beat that’d be right at home in her home of Miami, and even in her birthplace of Cuba. The production is spritely and unlike what’s been released recently. However those lyrics are something else...and not a good something else. They’re very juvenile and sound like a pre-teen wrote them. It’s not a good look for any of the three songwriters involved.

“Consequences” is the first ballad on the album and it comes in as the album’s standout. It’s a very simple song and one that discusses subjects that are very personal to Camila who’s had some well documented history with health issues. The song’s solitary piano melody makes it possible for Camila’s lyrics to take center stage and the vulnerability of her performance to as well. This is the kind of song that would’ve made this album something so much more. While most of the album feels really impersoal, this one is very close to the chest and it makes it a beautiful and moving experience because of it. “Real Friends” takes a similar stripped down approach but it just comes out as boring rather than personal. The lyrics seem to releate some feeling Camila has about a certain place and a desire to find some good people in this place she doesn’t like, but everything is so surface level. We don’t really care about what she’s singing about because we’re not made to care. Nothing about the production or the delivery of the lyrics makes us feel like there’s anyting all that important within the song. “Something’s Gotta Give” is another attempt at an emotional centerpiece song, but it just comes across feeling rather heavy handed. The production of the song is really inconsistent. The verses are done very well but the mixing of the chorus is absolutely horrible with Camila’s voice sounding glitchy and fuzzy. Frank Dubes, the songs producer, makes this mistake multiple times in the track rendering it sounding unfinished. Camila’s lyrics aren’t terrible, but they’re very derivitive of other songs of a similar ilk. She uses common phrases and variations of the phrases to tell a story that’s been told a million times before which makes this another impersonal track on an album that’s supposedly a personal project.

“In The Dark” is a notable step up. The song is pretty interesting one when you get down into it. The production is surprisingly simple but effective and thankfully, Camila’s voice sounds very present and up front on the track and it benefits them because they’re some of the strongest on the album. Lyrically this is one of the best offerings on the album as well, finding Camila firing on all cylindars to create a standout track for the back portion of the album. Up next is “Crying in the Club” which carries a nice sample of Christina Aguilera’s “Genie in a Bottle” in the chorus (just a fun trivia fact for you). It wasn’t really made clear at the beginning if this song would be on the album or not but it seems it was included maybe for the streams? It’s a genuinely good song with a wonderful melody, uplifting lyrics, and a kind of energy that’s not present in many tracks here. However, it doesn’t really fit on the album. It doesn’t have the same tone, same vibe, or even really the same motifs as the rest of the tracklist so for that reason it sticks out both for quality and for how much it doesn’t really belong on this album. The album concludes with “Into It” which isn’t a particularly strong closer, but it’s fine. It’s one of the most generic sounding tracks on the album right down to it’s vanilla melody and bland production. It makes the album kind of limp out rather than confidently strut and it’s definitely a qualifier for filler.

Never Be the Same is a good enough debut for Camila, but it’s not enough to put her at the front of the pack when it comes to the team of new artists that arrived this year. The album is pretty streamlined and feels tailor made to be successful and because of that it sacrifices genuinely affecting songs. The album has a handful of great songs and their presence elevates the project considerably. But you can’t help but wish there was more identity, more personality, and more moments where we really get to know Camila. It’s likely to please her fanbase and general audiences are sure to find things to love, but it’s tough to call this a particular pleasing album. Still, it lays a solid foundation for her to build on as her career continues and that’s essentially what debut albums are for.

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thebandcampdiaries · 6 years

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youtube

MJangles - Product of Environment (EP)

A stunning combination of amazing hip-hop influences, ranging from modern punch to old-school warmth, and everything in between

MJangles is a very talented rap artist originally from Ghana (West Africa), and raised in Bronx, New York…the cradle of contemporary hip-hop! Now a sophomore at Harvard University, he is based in Cambridge, Massachusetts, performing in and all over the Greater Boston Area.

His intriguing personal background, as well as his painstaking dedication to creating beautiful songs, has paid back, and the artist has been able to channel his thoughts, ideas, talent, and love for music into a striking debut project. Recently, MJangles released his first EP, which was made available last week on August 29th, 2018. The project is titled Product of Environment, and it features 8 tracks.

Overall, the release is an instant snapshot of the artist’s introspective and earnest lyrical flow. Each song fits in like the piece of a jigsaw puzzle, and every single track is capable of bringing something new to the set list, while still retaining a sense of consistency. As a debut EP, this release feels very accomplished, showcasing the artist’s ability to soak up a multitude of influences and inspirational creative ideas, and interpreting them according to his own character and approach. This is really one of the things that add to the uniqueness of Product of Environment and it turns this entire release into a true musical journey. Hip-Hop is really a perfect vehicle for such a huge amount of creative freedom and intelligent artistic pursuit, really allowing MJangles to set the bar higher and explore a new direction with every song. When you are not confined by any specific set up or thought process, many amazing things can happen, and this release is a perfect example of the fantastic things to be achieved with the right attitude.

MJangles is truly able to make the most out of his ability to share relatable stories with the listeners, arching back to the true tradition of the best rap music. Each song on this EP focuses on a different idea, and it talks about the artist’s thoughts on multiple topics, giving listeners an extraordinary insight into his thinking, as well as into his life, personality, and upbringing.

After all, great hip-hop is all about telling a story through the lyrics. Icons such as Biggie Smalls or Eminem were so successful because they could really tell a story through their lyrics, and—in doing so - fire up a spark in the hearts and minds of their listeners.

MJangles is no different in that respect: his tracks are edgy and direct, and they have a truly powerful expressive twist. Keep reading to learn more about each song featured on Product of Environment.

Track By Track Review

The first song of the EP is a track titled “A Hood Tale,” which really serves as a suitable introduction to this release. This song gives listeners a first taste of the artist’s lyrical style and dynamic vocal delivery, as well as detailing what can be expected in terms of sound and production quality.

The second tune on this EP, “Concrete Kingdom” is also a striking example of exactly what I am talking about. This track combines world-class arrangement ideas with a really spontaneous vocal flow, making for a great balance between energetic execution and insightful lyrics. “Concrete Kingdom” allows the flow of the release to move on smoothly, staying true to the atmosphere of this release.

The next track on the EP is titled “H.U.I.D.” This song is actually an absolute banger and another great taste of the artist’s ability to come up with crazy arrangements and next-level beats. This tune is a particularly impressive one, especially due to its rhythm, adding a lot of groove to this record and really setting the bar higher in terms of vocal delivery.

The fourth song on this EP is a track titled “Sincerely,” (with Lincoln) and it is perhaps one of the most highly thought-provoking tunes on this entire release. The track deals with friendship, love & loss, as well as legacy, exploring these topics in a very touching way.

Soon after that, the EP’s flow keeps strong and steady with another track, “For The Fam.” The song has a really vibrant feel, and the production quality brings a lot of clarity to the flow and melody of this track. It eases the listener into the second half of the project with a smooth, intimate ballad centered on themes of family, coming-of-age, and personal origin.

The sixth track on the EP, “BX Freestyle” is a fun and dynamic number, which really showcases the artist’s instinctive talent for coming up with outstanding lyrical content. This is the kind of song that really makes you move, and it is by far one of the highlights of this EP, in my humble opinion!

The next to last song, “Capone” is a heavy hitter and a great example of sophisticated production. The cool instrumentals are balanced and gritty, making for a tone that feels modern, yet refreshingly warm.

Last, but decidedly not least, the EP comes to a close with its final track, “Celebration.” This is a stunning example of top hip-hop songwriting, tipping the hat off to artists as diverse as Kanye West, Kendrick Lamar, or J. Cole, only to mention but a few.

Ultimately, MJangles will appeal to both fans of modern rap, and lovers of the old school of the genre, due to his ability to soak up different influences and ideas. In addition to that, the production of this EP is absolutely world-class. The bottom end is deep and lush, adding weight and presence to these tracks. The top end is clear and dynamic, really allowing the artist’s vocals to stand out and soar atop these mixes. With such a great attention to details and a keen ear for quality in music, you just cannot go wrong.

Find out more about MJangles, and do not miss out on Product of Environment as well as other exciting releases, events, and activities from this talented artist.

Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/album/2EIHIx3dW2ObjIq1TSL7gj?si=DR3uosUGT4WlELCoPs3nvQ

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/product-of-environment/1434318759

Website: www.mjangles.com

Keep reading to check out our interview with the artist!

I love how you manage to render your tracks so personal and organic. Does the melody come first, or do you focus on the beat the most?

Answer: I wish I could focus on the beat most. Since I’m not a producer I don’t have much control over how my beats sound. To make up for that, I actively try to make the songwriting of each track as authentically MJangles as possible.

Do you perform live? If so, do you feel more comfortable on a stage or within the walls of the recording studio?

Answer: I gotta say I’m more comfortable on stage. Putting together this EP made me realize I’m a perfectionist at heart, so when I’m in the studio it’s natural for me to be overly self-critical and spend way too much time and energy on the smallest thing. For me, the way that live performances force you to make every decision absolute and without revision is as much reassuring as it is intimidating.

If you could only pick one song to make a “first impression” on a new listener, which song would you pick and why?

Answer: “Sincerely,” absolutely no question. That song captures everything about MJangles from the deep introspection and honest storytelling to the hard-hitting bars and high-energy turn-up.

What does it take to be “innovative” in music?

Answer: That’s a tough call because it depends on who you’re asking. A lot of the time people will consider certain music original but still insist that it sounds like “_______ artist.” For me personally, I think innovation happens when you take an idea in your head and just go for it regardless of whether you exactly know how it’s supposed to be done. That’s how you do shit differently.

Any upcoming release or tour your way?

Answer: Cooking up some collab projects as we speak, Y'all.

Anywhere online where curious fans can listen to your music and find out more about you?

Answer: Go to www.mjangles.com to join the movement. Tell your best friend, significant other, and your extended family to do the same.

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aniimeziing-blog · 6 years

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Adrenaline Chapter 4

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/aniimeziing

Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/~aniimeziing

Idly, Izuku began to trace the scars on his hands underneath their linen wrappings.

Watching with an intense gaze as his fingers smoothed over the creases in the bandages, patting them to his skin until he felt the jagged patch of raised flesh, hardened and cool against his normally hot body. It was soothing somehow, to know that his efforts would always be with him, that he could just look down and remember both his power, his strength, his strife and his weakness, his downfall, his fragility with a few scratches; somehow… Somehow it filled him with a tiny amount of glee.

Interlocking his fingers and pulling, he let the loud cracking sound shoot out into the environment before Izuku looked around the environment. Dragging his field of vision around the classroom, he noted that they were still on the English question that they were on a few a few minutes ago, (when he had first started playing with his hands) and that most the class was still working on their question. It was some simple translation, nothing too difficult for Izuku so he had just been daydreaming for a while, letting his mind escape and re-cap what had been happening to him recently. Present Mic was quiet for once, allowing him to think clearly and the only sound surrounding him were the little grumbles of Bakugo alongside the tapping of pencils against the desks, which helped the rhythm in his head a surprising amount.

Gazing across the sea of seats once more, his eyes caught onto the sharp gaze of Tsuyu Asui who was staring at him with a certain level of seriousness and concentration that the green haired boy swore he could see lightning shooting towards his face. Tilting his head, he quirked an eyebrow in her direction hoping that she could see it and subtly tell him what was wrong. Instead, when she saw his confusion, she simply blinked once, smirked, wrote something down on a ball of paper and threw it at him. Due to him being a row behind her, it wasn't that hard for him to catch. Unwrapping it, he leaned forward a bit to try and see what the Frog-Quirk user had written, her scraggily writing hard to read. Eventually, however, he got it.

'Just trying to figure out where all the muscle goes.'

Like a pandemic of red across his whole form, Izuku recoiled at the comment with his chair following his movements, resulting in a sick screech. Glancing down, he noted how his body had gotten back into its 'messing with bandages mode' where his arms were bent and subconsciously flexing, straining the material of his shirt slightly. With a quiet, jumbled stutter he looked up to see the triumphant and smirking face of Asui, her tongue out of her mouth in a sort of mocking fashion before returning to her work. Meanwhile, Izuku just found himself rooted to the spot by his own body's lack of movement as he tried to figure out what to do.

In fact, now that he thought about it, a bunch of people had been acting weird around him today. It was only one period before lunch, meaning that they had had three periods before this, and during that time he noted himself being stared at a bunch, by both males and females alike. First, in homeroom, it was Mina and Ururaka who both turned away as soon as he clocked them. Then it was maths and during that, he noticed Iida examining his hands as he sat next to him while also asking him about his condition (which wasn't actually that out of the norm) but he also saw the stare of Kirishima, Kaminari and Mineta as they talked in the corner of the room, with two of the group glaring at him for some unknown reason while the other just looked perplexed and confused. Finally, there was modern literature with Cementoss, in which he caught sight of Ururaka once again, this time alongside Jirou and Momo, the latter two not hiding their appearance when they noticed his presence. And now there was Asui. What was with everyone today?

However, a quick refresh of his memory alongside the message on Asui's note told him everything in a matter of seconds; his fight with Todoroki and all the repercussions that had come about from it. Pulling his hand to his face, he roughly sighed into it, relishing at the movement of the soft linen on his skin as he began to reminisce about sad event. How it had put him in this state… He could only think about how the train-ride home was going to be, or even how lunch was going to be in a few minutes.

Glancing back down to his books, he took note of the small notebook that he had acquired from Recovery Girl before he left. He picked it up. Inside, it held a vast number of ideas and tasks that he had appointed for himself; there was the long list of alternative Hero names that he had thought of during homeroom, several medicine names provided to him that would help with pain if he felt any, and then a longer list of new discoveries about 'Adrenaline.' Humming to himself, Izuku smiled at his notes before quirking an eyebrow once more at what lay on the next page.

New Costume Ideas.

Ever since the discovery of his new side effect, he had been pondering about what changes to make to his costume. Yes, he still had One for All and as a result still was part of All Might's Quirk so the change wasn't needed, but the idea of having something else of his own just spoke out to him and made him feel some small sense of glee at having come up with some ideas. Also, he was thinking of ways to deal with his bone breaking problem, how to make sure it didn't affect his body too much even during the small healing boost he got from using Adrenaline. He had thought of a simple arm brace, one that would trail down from his more easily damageable ligaments but he then relented, arguing that this could limit movement and that he could simply rip it off during his weird, Devil-May-Care phase seen in his fight with Todoroki. Then, it was grips that attached to his elbows but the same problems arose. Sighing once again, he leaned back into his chair, thinking of how to even customise his costume; after all, he didn't know anyone that could effectively alter it…

…

Wait. Yes he did.

Leaning up, he began to think back to the games, to the round with the head bands and how him, Ururaka, Tokoyami and… And Mei had gotten into the next round. Going back on his knowledge, he could recall that was in Class 1-H and had a Quirk that let her eyes zoom in and out to allow her to see better. However, what he was most focused on was the fact that she used machines and mechanical properties in her suit and gadgets to help her through the competition. If there was someone that could help him out with his costume, it was her.

Going through his head, he recalled her telling him that she usually hung out with Power Loader at the workshop they had on school grounds and they had lunch next so he could visit her then. Nodding to himself, he spent the last two minutes just staring at the clock, all the while trying to ignore the feeling of eyes running up and down his body.

*RING* *RING*

Letting out an involuntary sigh, he watched as the rest of the class stood up and stretched from their translations before turning to their friends to begin casual conversation that was always around during lunch. Present Mic gave a quick notice to place the papers on his desk if you were leaving, which everyone practically was. Following suit, Izuku stood up and made his way to the door, giving his teacher a quick goodbye as he did.

Now in the hallway, he suddenly found himself very lost… W-Where was the workshop? Freezing in place directly outside the room, he started to focus on trying to figure out where it was leading to his habit of mumbling under his breath to come back, causing the few students that were left to turn to him in confusion.

"Uh, Izuku? You alright?" At the sound of his name, the boy's head shot up to meet the eyes of Mina, a sense of daze and amusement in her tone as she looked upon him. Also, judging by the floating mess of clothes standing next to her, he quickly deduced that Tooru was with her.

"M-Me? Oh yeah, I-I'm good, just trying to figure out where the workshop is." Standing back up from his hunched position, he placed his hands on the back of his head, smoothing his hands over his cracked head again, causing him to grit his teeth when he did so. However, he did miss the subtle shift in the yellow iris' of Mina as she glanced at his curled arm with a smirk.

"The workshop? Why do you need to go there Izuku?" Turning to his side, he quickly noted that now Tooru was speaking, her softer voice feeling quite close to his ear. And as it turns out, she had moved from her spot next to Mina and was now standing next to him, her skirt swishing alongside her blazer's sleeves.

"I-I, uh, need to upgrade my costume. My new… 'thing' doesn't really work with my old suit." He replied sheepishly, letting a thin veil of red dust his cheeks as he spoke, subconsciously turning away from the invisible girl.

"Oh yeah, we haven't asked you, have we?" Mina spoke up, turning to Tooru as she did.

"Ask what? Oh! Yeah, about that super cool, awesome thing that he did at the Games! What was it izuku, why did you suddenly go all 'RAW! I'M SUCH A BADASS!', huh?" Quickly forgetting her confusion, the invisible girl quickly shuffled back to the front of him and began to jump up and down before him, causing her clothing to begin to fly and jostle.

"W-Well… It would take some time for me to go through it all…" Trying to ignore the slight jab at his 'not badass-ness', he chuckled slightly.

"Oh, well I know where the workshop is so I can take you there while you explain your new… 'thing' to us, alright?" The pink skinned girl next to the duo quickly spoke up once more, excitement about his new side-effect leaking through her words. Thinking it through, Izuku quickly agreed to go through his new side-effect, making up a cover that it was just some new aspect of a regular strength Quirk so that he wouldn't reveal anything about One for All on accident.

As they were walking, with the only boy in the trio making his over the top hand signs and arm waving as he went through the new abilities he had procured, he found out that the girls were actually really interested in the topic, more so then he actually had previously thought of. Over the last term, Izuku hadn't really spoken to them much, instead choosing to stick with Iida and Ururaka for much of it as that was generally what was easiest for him, but on the few occasions that he had he found himself enjoying their company. Like right now. They were completely different from him; both were some of the most extroverted and 'out there' people he had seen in his whole life, and that was pretty hard to do with the ever-evolving world of Quirks and the like, while he was one of the shiest kids in the whole class with a Quirk that he couldn't even use properly. Plus, the fact that he looked like he had been copied and pasted from a very plain background from an anime didn't help, while both Mina and Tooru stood out from the crowd in their own way whether that be with the bright colour of their body or their lack of a body. They were just so different to him that he felt sort of… sort of entranced when they talked and spoke to him; they were giving him an insight into life that he definitely couldn't be a part of in his current state.

"So… your power practically relies on you beating yourself up to get a power-up? That's harsh man, like real hardcore." Mina quietly quipped as they walked, whistling to herself at the end after Izuku had finished his explanation. One thing that he had noticed about Mina was her use of broken up use of language and slang, which was something that he really didn't experience a lot, but it was a nice break from his usual stutter-y nonsense.

"Y-Yea, pretty much…" He laughed along with her as he thought about her words, how it was probably the tamest way that it could be described without being painful.

"Wow…. You're really cool now then, huh?" Tooru spoke up once again, reminding Izuku of her presence.

"I-I wouldn't say that…"

"Oh, come on, man! You're super cool now! You got this awesome Quirk that absolutely rocks, you've got this real sweet personality, and not to mention your muscles! You are so cool Izuku, and don't you forget it!" Leaping before him, Mina began to act like some sort of army drill sergeant about 'being cool', waving her hands in front of Izuku's face alongside the raising of her voice made the boy go bright red. Well, that and the fact that she mentioned his muscles… Again.

"W-W-Well, I-I – "

"Oh yea! You have all these muscles don't ya? Where the Hell have you been hiding these all this time, huh Izuku?!" Now it was Tooru's turn to have a go at him, her swaying clothes stopping abruptly to poke her finger into his upper pectorals, prodding them as if to test that they were actually real with a tone of voice that sounded genuinely offended at the fact that he hadn't ripped off his shirt and told the whole damn class about his muscles. And somehow, all of this just made Izuku melt into a tsunami of red blushes and stuttering as he tried to find a way out of this situation. However, fate seemed to smile on him as the two girls began to giggle at his incompetence.

"Ah well, here we are Muscles, the workshop!" Pausing in her stride, Mina gestured to large two doored room to their left where a lot of noise seemed to be accumulating from the inside. Funny how he didn't notice it earlier. Ignoring his previous embarrassment, he turned to the two.

"W-Well, thanks for showing me here, it means a lot."

They both shrugged him off.

"Nah, it was no biggie, really." The pink skinned girl retorted, crossing her arms under her bust.

"Yep! We're happy to help!" The invisible girl added, her clothes swaying once more.

"Seriously though, thank – "

"Oh yeah, you ain't too worried if we tell everyone about your Quirk's new shtick, right? No? ~ Okay, thaaaaaanks! ~ Bye!" Before he could even respond, he noted that the two had run off to the cafeteria, giggling the whole way there. Slumping over, Izuku sighed as he knew that he was going to be getting a bunch of questions during the Hero activity that they had last period. Cautiously, he wandered over to the doors.

Judging from all the noise of machines and tools from inside, he knew that the girls had actually taken him to the workshop and not just some random place of the school to make fun of his incapability to socialise. Walking up, he was about to knock on the door when suddenly, all the previously erupting from the room stopped abruptly. Quirking an eyebrow, he was about to open the door to check what was up.

"What the- "

BOOM!

In about 5 seconds, Izuku realised that he had been thrown clean across the corridor by some unknow force, landing flat on his ass with a thud. His ears were ringing too, a loud piercing sound that he could help but wince from a new-found weight that covered his body. From his squinty eyes, he could also see that there was smoke wafting around the air alongside the swinging of doors. Eventually, his ears stopped ringing just in time to hear the crackly voice of Power Loader.

"- this is why you have to be careful, God Dammit! This is like the 5th time this week!"

Shaking his head, he tried to push himself up but Izuku found his body trapped beneath something… Or more accurately, someone. Glancing down, the green haired teen felt his whole body freeze up for the umpteenth time today as he stared down a head of messy pink haired, curved and cutting into his chest with their softness. There was also a pair of goggles staring back at him, the dark lenses reflecting his eyes back at him like a distorted mirror world before continuing to gaze at his 'attacker.' This person was female… He could clearly tell… And the fact that he could feel it didn't help. Decked out in a loose tank top and some sort of working pants and boots, the figure began to shift in his lap.

"Hehe, Loader Bot this is just a happy accident, cause now I know not to-"Pushing her own body up, Izuku soon found himself face to face with the piercing yellow eyes of Hatsume Mei, the criss-crosses being a clear give away as well as the smirk that adorned her face.

"Oh hey! It's you! Welcome Izuku!" Smiling at the boy, she began to rise from his form, giving Izuku an unfortunate glance as he chest as she did so, causing him to recoil and begin muttering under his breath as he tried to calm himself down while Mei finished rising from her human seat. Suddenly, he found a hand thrust into his face. He stared at it, confused.

"What? You wanna stay on the floor or somethin'?" Even in her voice, the inventor's smirk was present in her tone as the boy looked up to see the same smirk adorning her pretty face. Quickly he took up the offer. As he stood, he saw the small form of Power Loader skulking off further into the back of the lab as he stood with Mei.

"T-Thanks." He muttered quietly, removing her hand from his as he stood.

"So, what brings you to this humble abode, hey Hot Shot?" She asked, placing her hands on her hips as she stared him down with a smirk.

"Hm? Oh yeah, I-I'm here to talk to you …. About a possible costume upgrade?" In an instant, he saw as her eyes lit up with wonder and curiosity.

"Oh! And upgrade? Yeah, yeah I ca help you with that! Come in, come in!" In a matter of a few seconds, Izuku found himself ushered into the workshop via a slight push to his back by the girl before she ran ahead into the shop.

Following her lead, he started to look around the place. All around him, Izuku saw different cut up parts of machines and robots with wires and cables hanging out haphazardly from each one alongside a few fully built models that were blinking lights of varying colours or rotating in circles on the desk. Paired with this was a lot of loud banging of metal and cutting of scrap that the boy would consider painful… If he wasn't the owner of One for All. Eventually he made it to the centre of the room with Mei,

"Alright bucko, what are you lookin' for?" Pulling himself out of the daze he was in, he began to address her.

"W-Well, I recently just learned about… You know, what I did at the Games right?" He quickly questioned, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"Hm… Oh! You mean when you went and messed that lovely body of yours up and then you got back up and screwed it up even more? If so, then yea I remember." He couldn't help but sigh. After a quick explanation of his abilities, he saw that she went into a comatose of thought for a few seconds.

"So… What are you actually looking for?" It should have been a simple question… It wasn't.

"H-Honestly… I have no clue. I just want something to compliment my powers, honestly… Maybe something to reinforce my body, I guess?" He just shrugged his shoulders at her as she continued her thoughts.

"You thought about braces?"

"Arm braces? Yeah, but they'd restrict my movement too much and even if they weren't, I'd probably just rip them off it I get too serious."

"Hm, yeah your right, you did get real aggressive in that fight…. How about full body armour? I got a sample if you want a test run." Walking away, she quickly wheeled in some heavy duty looking armour, with heavy patches and panels that would efficiently cover his entire being in defence.

"Looks a bit too much for me, if I'm going to be honest." Scratching the back of his head, he began to look around the room for inspiration as Mei quietly listed off options in the background. All around him, he saw clamps and grips that could work, but nothing solid. However, soon his eyes landed on a suspended piece of gear that caught his attention.

It was a golden frame by the looks of it, for a similar battle suit to what Mei had just bought out. However, this one was just the wire frame. It was simple, with only one thin wire leading down what would be the arms down to a bendable section at each elbow then to a palm sized circle in the centre of where the hand would be on each side, with five other wires leading off it where the fingers would be. It didn't have legs, however, only containing a metal line that would go down the spine. To be honest, it looked exactly like the wire frame of a drawn character, like a manga character or something but there was just an aspect of it that caught Izuku's eye. Walking closer to it, he reached out to touch it before Mei caught him a little too late.

"Oh, you might want to be careful of that. It has- "

"Ouch!" After encountering the material, he found a section of his linen cut by something, as a few drops of blood started to poke out through his skin. Alongside this, he felt the heated skin and rush of energy before they subsided. Holding his hand, he examined the material a bit closer with his eyes; along the outside of the wire were hundreds of tiny grips and clamp looking materials made of sharp metal.

"Yeah, I tried to warn ya. This is a skeleton that we put inside the suits; the grips secure it to the inside of the suit and give it extra protection so they usually aren't exposed like this and they are never facing the skin. Sorry 'bout that." Then, that sparked an idea in Izuku.

"Y-You said that these clamps and grips attach it to the suits, right?" She nodded. "How deep would they go if they were to go into human skin?"

Mei flinched.

"O-Oh… Um… If we go with the longest model, to the bone?" I think?"

To the bone, huh? Hm… That's it! Turning to Mei with a face full of inspiration and concern, he spoke of his idea.

"Um, theoretically these grips could secure a broken bone while sacrificing the skin to make contact, correct? So, what if I had a similar schematic for my own costume, because if I'm going to be using my power then it will just heal after coming out and even the initial burst of pain would help boost me to that initial boost of power." Looking up from his hand, he saw the concern on her face.

"S-So are you saying that you'd be willing to have something like this on your body to achieve your boost? You sure you're okay with that?"

Looking back at the frame, he clenched his hands.

"If I'm going to overcome this power and be a truly great Hero, then I have to do anything. I have to overcome this pain and this will help me do it." Twisting his body, he stared right into her yellow eyes with such determination and conviction that it made Mei shudder. "Can you help me do that, Mei?"

She paused for a few seconds… Then giggled.

"Alright then Hot Shot, let's get to making your 'Scar-Suit.'"

Scar-Suit? Heh, not a bad name.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #fanfiction #fanfic #writers #writing #midoriya izuku #deku

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