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amaranthinecanicular · 3 years

Text

and the name for your order is

The guy snarls his order, and Kirishima is glad because clearly he's an unrepentant dick to everyone, not just Amajiki. It's easier to come to terms with than he thought it would be. “And your name?” he says, plucking a cup from the stack and uncapping the marker with his teeth.

“Who the fuck wants to know?” says the customer.

“Oh no,” says Kirishima, because oh no, he likes this guy. It's one of those sudden revelations that takes him by the throat and shakes him down. Who wants to know, he says, as though it wasn't obvious. Who wants to know. So absurdly aggressive it ends up amusing instead of intimidating. Endearing, even.

[My belated @fyeahbnha secret santa gift for @pointy-hat-witch! Please enjoy, and happy holidays!!!]

[Alternatively read on ao3.]

OCTOBER

Fat Gum’s Café has a new customer.

Well. Not new, exactly. He's been showing up for the last two weeks or so but only on days Kirishima wasn’t working. The news shared by his coworkers more closely resemble war stories than work gossip, ranging exclusively from horrible to terrible.

“He’s the scariest person I’ve ever met in my life,” says Amajiki.

“He’s like a sentient piece of crap rolled up in a garbage can and set on fire,” says Kaminari.

“He makes Give me a mocha double espresso sound like an order of execution,” says Amajiki.

“He’s rude and violent and he has no honor,” says Tetsutetsu.

“If he’s not actually a demon sent from the depths of hell to torture me specifically I would be very surprised,” says Amajiki. Most of the stories are from Amajiki.

Kirishima is dying to meet him, in part to defend his friends’ honor and in part to put a face to the legend. Luckily, the start of the new quarter means new classes at new times, and that means new work hours. What was originally a Tuesday-Thursday-Friday-Sunday schedule shifts to a Monday-Wednesday-Saturday schedule. Kirishima feels bad about that. He likes the coffee shop, likes his coworkers, likes his boss. If he could ace his tests and help out at Fat Gum’s every day he would, but he can't. His grades are dragging.

On the bright side, he meets their local celebrity, like, immediately.

It’s his first Saturday on the job. He knows it’s about to go down when he finds Amajiki attempting to assimilate himself into the storage closet.

“He's back,” says Amajiki, doing an excellent impression of coffee grounds quaking in fear. “If I have to deal with him again I'll die, I'll just die. Tell Mirio and Hadou I said goodbye. I'm sorry, Kirishima-kun, I can't do it.”

Poor guy. Amajiki is convinced this dude is terrorizing him deliberately, which Kirishima sincerely hopes isn't true. Anyone who would go out of their way to frighten serious, hardworking, anxious Amajiki must be a monster.

As if to punctuate this point, someone out at the front begins to brutalize the counter bell. To be fair, they really shouldn't leave it unmanned.

“Don't sweat it, senpai,” Kirishima says. He doesn't give Amajiki the manly clap to the shoulder that he wants to—Amajiki isn't so good with physical contact from anyone other than Togata or Hadou. “I'll handle the problem customer.”

Amajiki peeks at Kirishima through coffee filters and the dark wedge of his fringe. “You—you mean it?”

“Sure do. I like a challenge.”

He flashes his brightest smile. Amajiki squints a little at the force of it.

Kirishima is honestly surprised that the poor bell isn’t dented by the time he comes to its rescue.

“About fucking time,” says the problem customer. He's got riotous blond hair and a scowl on his face like it's been carved there. There's a grenade logo sprayed on his baggy black tee, which makes sense, because one look at this guy brings to mind the word explosive.

“How may I help you, sir?” says Kirishima, with deliberate pep. Impossibly, impressively, the scowl cuts deeper. Like an attack—like he's never not on the offensive. That's fine. Kirishima’s smile will be his armor.

“Who the fuck wants to know?” says the customer.

Kirishima spits the cap out of his mouth. “I want to know. For your order, man.”

The problem customer narrows his eyes as though to peer through Kirishima’s question to the ulterior motives behind it, which is insane, since there are no ulterior motives to be found in the absolutely routine procedure of a coffee shop. Cheerfully oblivious seems to be getting under his skin, so Kirishima leans into it. “What if I forget who asked for the mocha double espresso?”

The customer rolls his eyes. He rolls his eyes violently. “Right, because I'm real fucking forgettable.”

“You could be.” The look he gets for that is entirely worth breaking the Customer Is Always Right creed. “We get a lot of traffic, man, it’s nothing personal.”

The customer braces himself on the counter and leans into Kirishima’s space. Instinct hooks in his spine and tries to reel him back a step or two, but he hardens his resolve into stone and ties it to his feet, weighs himself down, refuses to budge.

“You'll remember me,” the customer says. A promise like a threat, and for the first time in the duration of this exchange Kirishima feels seen by him. Acknowledged. It's the same feeling as scoring well on a test, or making a sad friend laugh. Hard-won and worth it. Kirishima can't stop the grin from breaking onto his face so he doesn't try to.

“Sure I will. I like you.”

And the look he gets for that, well, that's priceless.

“So that name?”

“Fuck off.”

The guy recovers fast, that's for sure. Kirishima watches him skulk to the serving counter where he roots himself like a particularly irritable tree and barks at anyone who gets too close. The next customer gets an extra punch in her punch card for the wait, and when the guy's order is up, Kirishima is ready with a sharpie in hand. Amajiki has ventured back out to help with orders, steadfastly avoiding anything problem-customer-related, but he blanches when he sees what Kirishima is scribbling on the cup. “Are you insane? Do you have a death wish? Should I be getting you help?”

“Trust me,” Kirishima says. He caps the coffee and walks it to its rightful owner. “One mocha double espresso for Mr. Unforgettable.”

The guy snatches the cup. He stomps off without another word.

Thirty seconds later he stomps right back.

“Blasty McSplode?”

Amajiki ducks under the counter. Kirishima, in the process of taking another order, smiles wide enough to cramp his cheeks.

“Hey! Back already?”

“Blasty Mc-Fucking-Splode?”

“You wouldn't give me your name. I had to take a stab at it myself. Was I close?”

“I'll show you taking a stab—”

Blasty rants and raves for a full minute, splashing mocha just about everywhere, until finally Fat Gum himself ambles out of his office to gently shoo him from the shop. Kirishima waves at him around Fat Gum’s bulk. Blasty waves his middle finger in response. When Fat Gum comes back in he raises an eyebrow at Kirishima, which, yeah, he definitely deserves, but he also passes a heavy hand through his carefully gelled hair to show that he's not really mad. Kirishima fixes his hair as best he can while Amajiki climbs out from under the counter.

“I can't believe he didn't kill you for that,” he says, his voice buffed by awe.

Kirishima gives the next customer's punch card an extra punch too. Hell, he gives her two extra punches. Why not? He's in a great mood.

Two days later Blasty stalks in and Kirishima can't believe his good fortune. He calls out a greeting from across the cafe and gets a glare in response, but that glare holds, a few seconds of extended eye contact, long enough to stay in Kirishima’s belly after it's ended and flutter there.

Blasty growls his order. Kirishima asks for his name. Blasty tells him to go die and Kirishima scribbles Lord Explosion Murder on the cup. He's rewarded with a snort of amusement.

“Did you see that?” he gushes to Kaminari, after Blasty has left. “He totally laughed! He liked it!”

“I saw it I saw it ow stop hitting me!” Kaminari rubs the place on his shoulder that Kirishima had been slapping repeatedly. “I dunno, man. That sounded more like a scoff to me.”

Nah, he's pretty sure he was amused.

The next time he comes in, after the requisite exchange (“Your name for the order?” “Eat a dick,” “Cool cool I think I'd get fired if I wrote that but cool,”) Kirishima writes King Explosion Murder on the side of the cup.

“Better,” Blasty huffs.

Kirishima feels like cloud-walking for the rest of the day. Kaminari isn’t on shift, but when Kirishima texts him, he texts back: “I stand corrected. When are you asking him out?”

“All in due time,” Kirishima promises his phone.

NOVEMBER

Blasty’s schedule:

He shows up Monday mornings, rumpled by sleep and grouchier than usual, before he heads off to class. Wednesday evenings he drinks and studies until closing time. Saturday afternoons he sits at the window with a bento. Coincidentally these are the three days and times that Kirishima is on duty. And it must be coincidental, because if it's not then that means that Blasty memorized his schedule and molded his life accordingly, learned to fit him in, looks forward to seeing him three days out of the week. Kirishima may be an optimist, but he's not delusional. He knows how dangerous a daydream like that can be.

He’s probably just here because it’s a good place to study. And there must be an exam coming up, because lately he’s been showing up with even more books than usual, and suitcases under his eyes instead of bags. He’s crabbier, too, which Kirishima didn’t think was possible and is honestly impressed by. By this point he has unofficially become the only one willing to serve him, but this wild-eyed evolution of Problem Customer into Demon Customer From Hell just clinches it.

“Maybe you should take a break,” Kirishima says, when he brings over Blasty’s third espresso in as many hours. It’s Saturday, usually Blasty’s day to sit and gaze out the window with one of his more pensive death glares, but today he’s entombed himself in a mountain of notes and textbooks. Kirishima nudges aside a few notebooks to make room for the cup.

“Maybe you should go fuck yourself with a rake,” says Blasty, without looking up from the violent strokes of his pen. “Touch my stuff again and I’ll kill you myself, shitty hair.”

Watching from behind the counter, Amajiki wheezes with secondhand horror. Kirishima peers at the crowded table. “Hey, where’s your bento?”

Blasty slams his pen down. “Was I not clear enough, you moron? Fuck off! Leave me alone!”

Kirishima raises his hands in surrender. Blasty’s mouth opens as if to say something else, but nothing comes out. Maybe he’s realized he’s gone a step too far. They stare at each other for a beat, and then his jaw snaps shut. He jerks his head back to his books and Kirishima retreats to the counter.

“He can’t speak to you like that,” Amajiki says, suddenly stern. He’s always braver on someone else’s account. “I’ll tell Fat Gum, he’ll understand. We don’t have to serve him. You don’t have to take his abuse.”

“The guy’s under a lot of stress,” Kirishima says. It’s overindulgent even for him, but when he glances over his shoulder he sees Blasty wrench his gaze away. “And I think he feels bad.”

Amajiki obviously doesn’t think so, but he says nothing more, which Kirishima appreciates. By closing time Blasty is the only customer left in the shop, still hunched over his books and writing furiously. Kirishima has given him his space, and he hasn’t asked for another coffee. Amajiki is still angry enough to go tell him they’re closing—he’ll even be properly intimidating about it—but Kirishima stops him.

“I’ll lock up,” he offers. Amajiki’s look of disapproval is a blow to Kirishima’s pride, but he stands firm. So Fatgum leaves, and Amajiki leaves, with a sigh and a firm promise that he’ll be on standby if Kirishima needs anything, and then the place is empty and it’s just him, Blasty, and the scritching sound of his pen.

Kirishima takes his time. He cleans up and Blasty keeps studying. He locks the doors and Blasty keeps studying. He sits down at a table across the cafe and gets some of his own homework done, and Blasty keeps studying. Then he goes back to the machines, knowing he’ll have to clean them again, and whips up a special drink. When he’s done, he writes FIGHT ON! where the name should go.

“I don't want your fucking charity,” Blasty says as he sets it down.

“You’ve accepted it so far,” Kirishima points out blandly, gesturing to the very obviously closed cafe. Before Blasty can bite his head off, he continues, “Anyway, don't think of it as charity. Think of it as…an investment.”

“Investment in what?” His eyes are narrowed and very red, both in the iris and the bloodshot sclera.

Kirishima weighs the pros and cons of his next move and decides to go for it. He hazards a wink. “In my future best customer.”

Blasty is unimpressed. Like, fatally unimpressed. Like, it's impressive how unimpressed he looks. Aggressively deadpan. He has to practice that look in the mirror.

But he takes the cup, and when Kirishima peeks at him later, he's smirking at the sharpie message.

Monday morning sees Blasty quiet and terse, but civil. Civil for him, anyway. Kaminari is disturbed.

“What did you do?” he hisses once Blasty bulls out of the shop.

“Nothing.” Even if he barely met Kirishima’s eyes. Not promising.

“Did you fight?”

“No.”

“Did he turn you down?”

“No. Dude, nothing happened.”

Kaminari raises his hands. For a minute they work in silence.

“So if you didn’t get turned down, are you gonna ask him out soon?”

Kirishima hands off an order, and then lets his customer service smile drop. “Now isn’t a good time. I’ve got to give him some space.”

“Okay, but what about all your fortune favors the manly stuff? Isn’t that the reason you got this far in the first place?”

“How far is that? I still don’t know his name.” He can feel Kaminari’s eyes on him, and he tries to rally. Picks up his smile and pastes it back on. “Hey, enough about me. How’s it going with you and Shinsou?”

Kaminari lights up. For the next twenty minutes he regales Kirishima—and the whole cafe—with his loud and maudlin romantic woes, all he’s so hot the bags under his eyes should not be so hot and his dry sense of humor is so hard to read and I think he’s flirting with me but I thought that with Jirou and she and Momo still won’t let me live it down.

Kirishima listens and laughs and offers advice, and he does his job, and he doesn’t think about his grumpy favorite customer even once. Really he doesn’t.

When Blasty comes in on Wednesday, he looks well rested. Kirishima waves before getting back to orders. This is apparently not good enough for Blasty, because he scowls at the people in line and then stalks over to the serving counter and proceeds to glare daggers, like he expects Kirishima to just up and abandon his work to attend to him. Like, yeah, he wants to, but it wouldn’t be right. Even if Blasty scares other customers away from the counter. And even if Kirishima is getting steadily more distracted the longer he stares.

On the third order he messes up, Tetsutetsu intervenes.

“Go on,” he sighs, nudging Kirishima aside as the next customer steps up. “Make it fast, bro.”

Kirishima promises him a meat bun after work and hurries over. “Hey. You’re looking better. Did you ace the test?”

“Obviously.”

“That’s great. Congratulations.”

There’s a stalled moment. Kirishima taps his fingers on the counter. Blasty is visibly grinding his molars.

“Cool, so I’m gonna get back to work, I’ll make you your regular—”

“Last week,” Blasty starts. He bites out each word. “Last week, I was.” He stops, lips pressed tight and bloodless.

“An asshole,” Kirishima supplies.

Blasty hums low in his throat. Or he growls. Either way it’s as close to an admission as Kirishima is going to get, and it clearly took a hilarious amount of self restraint for even that much.

Blasty clears his throat and says, “That drink you made. What was in it?”

Kirishima is a little thrown by the shift. “Xoaxacl chocolate, a little chili powder. I thought you might like an extra kick.”

“It wasn’t half bad.” There’s color along the bridge of his nose. “I’ll take one of those.”

Maybe Kirishima had been more upset by Blasty’s behavior on Saturday than he thought, because now he feels loads lighter, any old hurts dissipating like clouds under the sun. He smiles, and Blasty blinks a lot, the color spreading to his cheeks and his ears and down his throat.

“One special order, comin’ right up!”

Kirishima turns around and reaches for a cup and marker. And then, behind him: “Bakugou Katsuki.”

He pauses. “Sorry?”

Blasty is rubbing roughly at his mouth. His whole face is glowing. “You heard me.”

“Bakugou,” says Kirishima, trying the taste on his tongue. Bakugou, full of plosives and hard consonants. “I love it. It suits you.”

Bakugou’s eyes snap wide, then narrow just as fast. “Why the fuck should I care what you think of my name? It doesn't need your approval, dipshit.”

When Kirishima is finished making his drink, Bakugou snatches it from his hand and whirls on his heel, a dramatic spray of foam following him out. Kirishima tingles where their fingers touched.

Then he watches Bakugou take a deep pull, and he has to go clean the latte machine before he’s murdered by the lethal and lovely line of Bakugou’s throat.

DECEMBER

“Y’know, I still don’t know what you study.”

“Probably because it’s none of your business.”

“Right. Except how it kind of is literally my business, since I let you study here, in my place of work, after we’ve closed.”

This has become their ritual. On Saturdays Bakugou stay past closing, sometimes doing schoolwork, sometimes helping clean up, sometimes just chatting. He never stays past nine thirty—Kirishima has learned that he likes to turn in before ten every night, which is bizarrely adorable—but it doesn’t matter. Any amount of time with him is always going to feel like a blessing, and it’s never going to feel like enough.

“You’re not doing me any favors, shitty hair, get that thought out of your empty skull this instant.”

“Sure, sure.”

Kirishima finishes cleaning up. Once the last table is wiped down he sits heavily across from Bakugou, happy to finally be off his feet. His eyes feel swollen, too big for his skull. His grades have yet to pick up despite the extra hours of studying he’s been putting in. He presses his knuckles into his eyes for a moment of relief.

“I’m a med student.”

He blinks the colorless starbursts from his eyes. Bakugou, across from him, comes into focus: his head is still down, his gaze still fixed on his book. Sometimes he wears glasses, thick dark frames that Kirishima loves, and today is one of those days. He grins.

“No shit! You’re going to be a doctor?”

“A surgeon.” Some color rises in his ears; he looks pleased. Maybe because of how awed Kirishima sounds. But why wouldn’t he? Anyone working to help people is worthy of admiration, and manly as hell.

“Dude, that’s awesome. I’m studying to be a nurse.”

The corner of Bakugou’s mouth twitches upward. “Nurses are badass.”

“I think so. You a doctor, me a nurse. I bet we’d make a good team.”

Bakugou scoffs, even as pink starts to pool in his collarbones. Kirishima still doesn’t get why certain things make him flush, but he’s happy to learn. He rests his cheek in his hand and tries not to smile too dopily. “Y’know, for a med student you sure drink a lot of coffee. You know too much of this stuff is terrible for you, right?”

“I’m going to tell your boss you said that and get you fired.”

“That’s really not how it works.”

Bakugou’s glare is magnified by the glasses. He takes a long, aggressive sip of his drink—the strength it takes Kirishima not to burst out laughing is Herculean, truly, with the slurping and the deliberate eye contact and all, because only Bakugou could turn coffee into an intimidation tactic. Then he says, “Whatever. I'm invincible.”

Kirishima bursts out laughing. Bakugou grumbles beneath his breath, but his threats delight Kirishima more than they intimidate; Kirishima’s laughter seems to confound Bakugou more than it enrages. They're good for each other, is his sudden thought, and it thrills him.

He’s a little teary and a little breathless by the time he gets himself under control. Through the blurry smudge of his eyelashes he sees Bakugou. Then he’s breathless all over again.

Bakugou’s face—Kirishima wouldn’t say it softens. But there is a softness there, in his unsmiling mouth, in his brow, stern but smooth. He’s just—watching him, steadily. Intent.

“Hey,” Kirishima says, and it’s easy, it’s so easy. “Make sure you come in on Christmas, alright? I get out early, and I want to ask you something.”

And maybe he expects Bakugou to fluster, or to scowl, or to demand to hear his question then and there. He doesn’t.

“Fine,” he says, and he just keeps watching. Like he wouldn’t mind watching Kirishima forever.

Maybe Kirishima’s projecting a little.

Bakugou would probably tear him a new one for spreading the news around, but Kirishima is too excited to keep it to himself.

“I’m happy for you,” says Amajiki, sounding worried but sincere.

“Congrats, man,” says Tetsutetsu, and then they have a celebratory arm wrestling match.

Kaminari is a little more suspicious. “So you haven’t asked him out yet?”

He’s standing on a stepladder, hanging Christmas decorations while Kirishima mans the counter. Bakugou has already stopped by for his morning coffee, and it’s been a slow morning since. The few people trickling in have been couples, sharing hot chocolate and slices of cake. Kirishima has spent an inordinate amount of time daydreaming about similar situations. In his head it’s usually a little less cozy and a little more explosive, but he likes it better that way.

“Technically no.” He tops the latte he’s working on with extra foam. “I asked him to come by on Christmas, and I’m going to ask him out then. I’ve got a plan.”

Kaminari doesn’t need to know how nebulous said plan is. At the moment it includes things like Step One: Bribe With Spicy Food (Addendum: Can Christmas Cake Be Spicy?), Step Two: Sweep Bakugou Off His Feet, Step C: Profess Manly Adoration, Step N: Kiss Just Like, Wow, A Whole Bunch. The truth is he’s always been more of an in the moment kind of guy. But he likes Bakugou—he really, really likes Bakugou. He doesn’t want to screw everything up with an impulsive word or action. And if that means taking precautions he wouldn’t usually bother with, he’ll take them.

“I dunno, man,” says Kaminari. “Midoriya and Momo are all about plans. You…not so much.”

Kirishima decides Kaminari knows him too well. “Any progress with Shinsou?”

That does the trick. Kaminari brightens like the bunch of LED Christmas lights in his arms. He practically swoons, the stepladder protesting beneath him. “Dude, you have no idea. I took a leaf out of your book, just asked him straight out, and lemme tell you I knew Hitoshi was hot but I’ve never seen anyone blush so cute in my whole damn life—”

He swoons a little too hard, arms wheeling, and Kirishima barely vaults the counter in time to catch him. There’s some polite applause from the handful of patrons in the shop. Kirishima and Kaminari bow, and then Fat Gum tells them to quit fooling and get back to work.

Kirishima does not spend the rest of his shift thinking about how Kaminari called Shinsou Hitoshi. And he definitely does not think about calling Bakugou by his first name on Christmas.

He does, however, scrawl Katsuki on no less than three to-go cups.

Kirishima does not see Bakugou on Christmas. He does not see much of anyone, or anything, on Christmas. He can barely see his own hand in front of his face, which could be the delirium brought on by the fever or the copious amount of sweat rolling into his eyes, which is also brought on by the fever.

As badly as he wants to push through the pain, not even he is hardheaded enough to try and drag his sorry carcass to work. It’s hard enough to drag his sorry carcass to the bathroom and back. He tries to text his coworkers (Tamaki? Kaminari? Tetsutetsu? He can’t recall who’s working today, so he texts all of them) and asks them to apologize to Bakugou, but the characters are swimming in his vision and he’s pretty sure the result is gibberish. Which means it’s over. He’s going to be laid up in bed for weeks, he’s going to fail his finals, and come next semester he’ll have a new class schedule, and he’ll never see Bakugou again. He’s blown it. Romance is dead.

Someone’s knocking on the door. He doesn’t answer it right away—it takes a minute for him to peel the rhythm of the pounding door from the pounding in his head. It takes a minute longer for him to stumble up and open it.

“You look like shit,” says Bakugou. He’s standing there looking like god’s gift to the earth, even scowling, even bundled in hat and scarf and mask, even laden down with groceries. Kirishima is pretty sure he’s hallucinating.

“Well? Are you letting me in or what?”

Kirishima lets him in. Bakugou toes out of his boots and then he plants himself in the middle of the room, jerking his head this way and that, taking it all in: the kitchenette-slash-living room, the card table turned dining table, the clashing red and hot pink interior design. “This place is a shitshow,” he declares. “No roommate?”

“She’s spending Christmas with friends.” More specifically, Mina had left last night with the implication that if Kirishima’s date went well he was free to come back to the apartment. There was a lot of obnoxious winking and innuendos. It was sweet of her, if a little mortifying and inappropriate, and in the end entirely wasted when he woke up with the mother of all migraines.

Bakugou drops the groceries on the table and starts shucking his outerwear. The hat, the scarf, the puffy coat. Kirishima sways in place and watches him. He’s wearing a red button down, and beneath that a black tee with the Punisher logo on it. It’s just a little bit dressier than his everyday attire. Is this what he would have worn on their date? If Kirishima had ever gotten to ask him properly? He sighs, forlorn.

Bakugou turns back to him, and they stare at each other. They keep staring at each other until Bakugou reaches past him to close the door, which was still hanging open over his shoulder. Whoops.

“God damn, you’re out of it. Get back to bed, loser.”

He cuffs him over the head, except it’s less of a cuff and more of a ruffle, exasperated and fond. So Kirishima totters back to bed. Hallucination or not, he’s happy to see Bakugou one last time.

When he wakes up, it’s to the rich, earthy kinds of aromas he associates with home cooking, if not necessarily his home. His first thought is that Mina came home early, but she’s just as useless in the kitchen as he is. So either a burglar broke in to cook for him or he wasn’t having an incredibly vivid fever dream, as he’d previously assumed. Which means Bakugou is really, actually, truly in his home.

The door to his bedroom bangs open while he’s wrestling with the sweat-soaked sheets. Bakugou is armed to the teeth with soup, water, tea, pills, and towel, all laid out and puffing steam on a serving tray that Kirishima doesn’t remember owning. He raises an eyebrow at Kirishima’s ogling and knees him in the side.

“Sit up. You have to eat and rehydrate.”

The tray lands on Kirishima’s lap, and then the water and the pills are pushed into his hands. While he’s downing both, Bakugou makes a sour face at the state of his room, and bustles out to change the bedside wastebasket for a clean bag. Kirishima would be more humiliated if he weren’t so happy to see him at all.

When Bakugou comes back he’s got a thermometer in one hand and the card table’s folding chair under an arm. He kicks the chair open, spins it around, and slings one leg over the side. He brandishes the thermometer like a weapon of war.

“Open.”

The thermometer jabs under Kirishima’s tongue. He winces only a little, and his voice comes out nasally and muffled and a little wondering. “I can’t believe you’re really real.”

“What else would I be?”

“I don’t know, a dream? A near death hallucination?”

Bakugou rolls his eyes. “Shut up until I get your temperature.”

A few seconds later the thermometer chirps. Bakugou snaps it up and glares at it, and then something in his face relaxes.

“Barely a fever. You’ll live, moron.”

Kirishima asks, “How’d you know where I live?”

“Your dumbass coworker said you were sick. I threatened him bodily harm until he gave me your address.” Like it’s so obvious. Which, yeah, maybe it is. Probably Kaminari, who is both susceptible to Bakugou’s intimidation tactics and has been pushing for them to get together. When Bakugou snaps open the damp towel and starts mopping at Kirishima’s sweaty face, grumbling beneath his breath, he decides that he’s grateful.

For the first time he’s realizing how silly his fever induced fears were. He might be down for the count for a few days, but he won’t miss his finals, even if he might fail them. And even if his schedule falls out of sync with Bakugou’s, it’s not like he’ll be gone forever. They have a mutual friend in Midoriya, as Kirishima learned recently. Or else he could just loiter around the cafe until they learn each other’s new schedules. This doesn’t have to be the end at all. Bakugou proved that by coming here.

“Sorry, Bakugou,” he croaks. “I really wanted to be there with you today. Was looking forward to it all week.”

Bakugou dismisses him with a roll of his eyes. He folds his arms across the back of the chair and rests his chin on them. “So? What happened?”

“End of the semester. Bad grades. Finals.” He waves a vague hand to encompass the studying and the stress and the lack of sleep. It probably didn’t help that he ran himself into the ground trying to justify a night off with Bakugou, though he doubts that comes across with his flappy wrist.

“Guess it all caught up to me.” He spoons some soup into his mouth. “Oh my god, this is delicious. You made this?”

“I’m great at everything, obviously.” His mask twists with a frown. “You’re having trouble in school?”

“’M not a genius like you.”

“It’s not about being a genius, it’s about studying habits. You need someone to quiz you, keep you on task.” A pause, nearly short enough to be casual. “I’ll do it.”

Kirishima lowers the bowl he had been tipping over for the last of the broth. “You?”

“What, you think I can’t? I’ll be the best damn tutor you’ve ever seen, shitty hair.” Another pause. This one is more thoughtful.

“What?” says Kirishima.

Bakugou shakes his head. His voice has dropped to a low rumble in his chest. “Never seen you with your hair down. You should chuck all your gel, it’s not so shitty like this.”

“Didn’t think I’d have company to put it up for. I’d have to flip upside down to do it right, I probably would have passed out and died.”

Bakugou snorts. “You’d think a nurse would take better care of himself.”

Kirishima snorts back, with a little more phlegm. “You’d think a doctor would have better bedside manner.”

All of a sudden Bakugou’s scowl is a little less—scowly, than it usually is. More searching. More intense. Their eyes meet for a second too long and it’s like someone is pouring nitroglycerin down the column of Kirishima’s spine.

“Sounds like you want to know more about my bedside manner.”

He’s smirking, and there are so many things—so many things—that Kirishima could say to that. Things that would be smart or things that would be manly or things that would be safe. So many things.

His fever speaks for him. “Well, if you’re offering.”

The smirk falls away and that intensity comes roaring back. Kirishima’s insides ignite. Bakugou rises slowly and doesn’t once blink, and his chair scrapes on the floor, and Kirishima has the thought I hope that doesn’t scratch the wood—

Then Bakugou is kissing him. The rough weave of his mask and the heat of his mouth behind it, like a brand. His open eyes. His hand cradling the curve of Kirishima’s skull. It’s overwhelming and it’s nothing at all, less of a kiss than a touch, less of a touch than a promise. Kirishima clutches at him because he’ll fall away otherwise, he’s hungry and dizzy and unmoored, and he’s got one hand clenched in Bakugou’s shirt and one in his hair and it’s soft, how is it so soft? His heart lurches in his chest.

No no no, not his heart. “Bakugou, back up, I—oh shit—”

He pulls away and flops over the side of the bed, unable to see if his hail mary aim for the wastebasket came through. Only once he’s done tossing his guts does he register the steadying arm around his shoulders. The hand pushing back his hair. It’s warm and square and dry, with callouses on every finger.

“You’re disgusting,” Bakugou says from somewhere above him. He sounds like he’s trying not to laugh.

“You’re the one who just kissed a sick man. What does that make you?”

“Magnanimous as fuck.”

Kirishima laughs. It hurts every part of him, but it’s good. It’s really good.

“I really like you, Bakugou. Like a lot.”

It comes out so easy, just like that day in the cafe. He’s still half upside down and his mouth is still sour. Bakugou’s hand is still in his hair. Through the damp red locks that escape his grip Kirishima can see him, and for the first time since they met, he looks starry-eyed. It is the most amazing feeling in the world, even when Bakugou blinks the stars away and glowers.

“Is that why you wanted me to come by the cafe today? I already knew that, dipshit.”

His voice is dismissive and mocking, but his hand is still in Kirishima’s hair, and his collarbones have flooded pink. It’s just like Bakugou to flirt and kiss him within an inch of his life only to get shy about a little sincerity.

“Yeah. That’s all I wanted to say. I was hoping we could go out and, I don’t know, look at Christmas lights. Bake a cake together. Pelt each other with snowballs or something. I like you a lot.”

Bakugou helps him sit up. At his urging Kirishima rinses his mouth with water and then sips some of the tea. It’s lemony and sweet.

Bakugou demands, “What took you so long? I don’t like idiots who beat around the bush, Kirishima. Didn’t think you were like that.”

Kirishima. He doesn’t think he ever wants anyone else to say his name. “Yeah, Kaminari said the same thing. But I didn’t want to mess things up with you.”

“So you decided to be a dumbass? How’d that work out for you?”

He mulls it over. “The guy I like is seeing me half dead, so that’s embarrassing. On the other hand, the guy I like is taking care of me while I’m sick, which is pretty sweet. Net gain, I think.” He’s heartened by the amused squint of Bakugou’s eyes. “So? Want to go out with me?”

For a long moment, Bakugou doesn’t say anything. He just watches, steady, intent, and his hand weaves slow, thoughtless paths through Kirishima’s hair. Kirishima has never been in love before, but he thinks this must be it. He can’t imagine anything else hurting quite so sweetly.

“I’m not dating anyone while I’m still in school,” Bakugou says. “That would be fucking stupid.”

“Okay. After med school is residency, right? You think you’ll be dating then?”

Bakugou’s expression isn’t starry-eyed anymore, but it’s pretty damn close.

He says, “Stick around and find out.”

JANUARY

A new semester means a new schedule, and Kirishima’s does not match up with Bakugou’s even once. It’s a little bit of a bummer, sure, but he’ll survive.

The last customer of the day leaves the cafe two minutes to closing. Kirishima sighs, cracks his neck, and starts prepping the last drink of the day. He sets it on the counter and then he starts wiping down tables, and when the clock strikes the hour, Kaminari goes to lock the doors.

They burst open before he gets there and Kaminari jumps two feet in the air and falls flat on his back. In strides Bakugou, and Kirishima’s heart flutters even as he stands back and cackles at Kaminari for a solid thirty seconds.

“Kirishima,” Kaminari whines from the floor, “your boyfriend’s being mean to me!”

Bakugou kicks at him. “We’re not dating.”

“Ha! Sure, and I’m not dating an insomniac with a fine ass—okay okay you’re not dating, quit kicking me!”

He does, but only after Kirishima scolds him and entices him away with a drink. He grabs it off the counter and passes it to Bakugou. Then he snatches it back.

“Forgot the name, just a sec!”

“You already know my name,” Bakugou groans, but he follows Kirishima behind the counter with barely a frown. “Hurry up, shitty hair, I don’t have all night to tutor your ass.”

“Tutor your ass,” Kaminari laughs from the floor. Bakugou growls.

Kirishima finds the marker and uncaps it. Before he can start to write, Bakugou threads their fingers together and squeezes hard.

“I can’t write your name with my left hand, Bakugou.”

Bakugou hooks his chin over Kirishima’s shoulder. “Sounds like a you problem.”

Well, Kirishima likes a challenge. The final result is messy, but legible. He garnishes it with a heart. “Here.”

“Stupid,” Bakugou huffs, but he accepts the cup and takes a swig. Then he yanks Kirishima toward the exit, where Kaminari is finally peeling himself off the floor.

“We’re still on for Saturday, right?” he asks, dusting himself off. “Double--”

“If you say double date, I’ll set you on fire,” says Bakugou. “And only if shitty hair here passes his test with flying colors.”

Kaminari endeavors to look contrite--his face wasn’t really built for it--but when Bakugou’s back is turned, he shoots Kirishima a subtle thumbs up and mouths double date. Kirishima returns the favor.

Out on the street it’s cold and biting. Bakugou hisses, and takes another gulp of his drink. Kirishima watches him glance at the name on the side of the cup again. If he pointed out the color in his cheeks he knows Bakugou would say it was the cold, or the heat of the drink, and then he’d punch him for good measure. But Kirishima can see his smile, hard-won and worth it. He can see how he passes a thumb over the shaky black characters, over and over: Katsuki.

#fyeahbnhasecretsanta #my hero academia #kiribaku #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #boku no hero academia #shinkami #in the background mostly #kaminari denki #amajiki tamaki #tetsutetsu tetsutetsu #fat gum #bnha fic #ran's writing #pointy-hat-witch #fyeahbnha #coffeeshop au #university au

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kotoplasm · 4 years

Text

𝐈.: FATE

synopsis: bokuto's philosophical outlook on life has him wondering whether there is a place for him in the universe. you exist to make sure that he knows just how priceless that his existence is to you.

i have not proof read this at allll 😔

masterlist ...... next chapter

society liked to believe that amongst caffeine driven adults and stressed beyond repair broken teenagers, the world still ran on an abstract emotion known as intimacy, to put things simply, love. in the urban streets of tokyo where the lights never seemed to darken, bokuto koutarou was left to wonder whether he was just another puzzle piece waiting to be slotted into that very society.

to begin with, despite his callibrated ability to read emotions to a decent standard, he has failed to keep a single relationship intact. not that he was the problem but rather the confusion that would arise when he began to question why he was even in this relationship to begin with. (okay so maybe to an extent he was the problem). it would seem dangerous, yes, and some would even deem the following as something that was portrayed to be unspoken territory. the girls that he would inevitably find himself with were pretty, yes, and undeniably mesmerising to look at, but that was all there was to it.

he didn't enjoy the said intimacy that some people shared in those said relationships, but he wondered whether he would ever be able to find himself in a situation as such. the term seemed so unearthly and out of sight so he had lost all hope of ever being able to experience something so euphoric and long-lasting. now he just drags his newly found setter to the gym to practise perfecting his cross spikes until his hands were satisfied by the red tinted bruises forming on his calloused hands.

within tokyo, the city was busy and you would only be able to speak to pedestrians for a few ephemeral moments before the current of today's age and time carried you away. today, bokuto had opted for a more quieter route to bid farewell to akaashi, who had told him that he didn't need him to walk him home. bokuto being himself obviously ignored that.

so here they found themselves, exhausted from practise and admiring the scenery of sub-urban tokyo. their clothes were drenched in sweat and fatigue from their intensive practice, to which akaashi could only really scowl at. the pungent smell of body odour wasn't new to him of course, but that didn't equate to him enjoying its scent.

the area was a hotspot for dogwalkers and evening strolls, he had noted as he watched a couple walk by them with their children scuttling past their limbs. it took him a few moments to process that children probably saw himself and fukurodani's spiker as big friendly giants.

"ne akaashi," bokuto called out to him, hands folded behind his head. "do you think you'll ever get married?"

"that's a very random question bokuto-san," he replies, eyes never leaving the road ahead of them. he spots a glass garden in the distance but pays no attention to it. "but i hope so. i don't like the idea of spending my adult years alone."

"yeah, i guess you're right," he replies back. and then he stays quiet, looking ahead.

odd. akaashi says to himself but doesn't prod further. he wishes to go home and shower, hopefully being able to finish some of his homework before the due date arrives.

"i never knew there was a florist in this area," the same golden-eyed boy calls out, pointing to the very building on his mind.

"yeah, it's a family owned one. the owner is very close friends with my family," he notes.

"are they nice people?"

"i guess. i've only ever spoken to their daughter but they don't tend to speak a lot."

"hmm."

before he knew it, bokuto was jogging towards the very store, peering into the garden to stare at the bouquets and nosegays of variously coloured flowers, water dripping from their freshly watered pots.

"we should go in akaashi! maybe you might see something you like!" says bokuto with an expression of joy and excitement on his face.

reluctantly following after him, akaashi embraces the fresh scent of grass cuttings and fertiliser. it was the same smell as always: where some people might finding it to be unbearable, he found it homey.

one of the two go around the store to explore the rest of the interior whereas the other went to greet the owner, a newspaper on her lap as her spectacled eyes skim through the fine print of todays paper. to the right, a paraffin lamp was lit; the smell was irritating but he tried his best to ignore it.

"ahh akaashi!" the older woman pats his shoulder a little harshly, a warm grin on her lips. "haven't seen you about for a long time. how're your parents? are they feeling alright?"

he answers the questions modestly, curtly nodding when appropriate and returning a friendly smile.

"[ l/n ]-san, isn't [ y/n ]-san usually here, helping you?" he questions, scanning the area for any clues as to where you might have wondered off to.

"i'm afraid not akaashi. she started school a few days ago and she's been complaining about the sudden surge in work load," shaking her head, she continues. "says that it's been tough to manage the latter so i told her to forget about the shift she was supposed to cover this evening."

"she's a second year now, isn't she?"

"yes. but if you're worried about her forgetting you now that you don't attend the same high school, don't fret too much."

"no, umm, it wasn't that. i just wanted to remind myself, that's all. hard to believe that she's a year older than me."

"i still can't comprehend how," she replies, letting out a chesty laugh that stimulated a small smile on his non-chalant face.

concurrently, bokuto found himself strolling through each aisle, his eyes erratically jumping from one flower species to the next. akaashi side glances at him occasionally to keep an eye on him but it didn't look like he was doing anything extraordinary.

up until he disappeared. and in quite literally an instant.

from what the silver tipped boy could remember, he had remembered tripping over something and collapsing onto the soil stained gravel, bracing himself with his elbows.

"are you alright?" she calls out from behind the checkout getting ready to stand up.

the boy waves a thumbs up in reply. despite wanting to pry further, he decides against it, dusting off the soil particulates and heading back towards the till. it couldn't have been....

the pair of them bid a farewell and continue their walk up until they got to akaashi's house, to which the very boy could see his upperclassman fidget with his hands.

"akaashi, you didn't happen to see anyone with us in that store did you?"

"why, did you see someone?"

he pauses. did he see anyone? whatever he tripped over felt too warm to have been a random object and had disappeared the moment that he'd tripped over it.

"actually, i don't know. maybe i'm just imagining things."

he gives him a funny look before sighing. "yeah, maybe you were imagining it."

bokuto sighs. "maybe i was."

it's the second day of the week; fukurodani's and nekoma's weekly practice looming over bokuto koutarou and akaashi keiji. it was a periodic occurrence, only happening on the tuesday of every fortnight and the friday of every other week.

if he was being honest, bokuto was excited, ready to show off their new setter, who was still wary to the idea of co-ordinating the offenses of a powerhouse school. afterall, he was still only a first year trying out the position for a few games before sitting out to observe. what he felt was new but refreshing and thrilling, so he tried not to think of the nerves trying to seep beneath his skin.

the satisfaction bokuto felt was all driven by an act of competitiveness with the middle blocker of the opposing team, kuroo tetsurou, someone who, despite cherishing as a good friend, didn't mind the level of rivaled tension that was thick in the air.

"hey, sorry i'm late guys!" came the voice of the boy in question, stepping into the gym in his blue coloured kit. the moment his eyes settled on bokuto, his lips curled into a coy smirk. "hope you're ready to lose, ya horned owl bastard."

"i don't intend on it," bokuto retorts, blowing a silent raspberry with his arms folding out of habit.

"kuroo! i thought you said that you've found someone!"

"yeah, um... give her a minute. i might have ran and left her behind," he responds. "she's coming though. i can promise that."

despite that comment, practice commenced regardless with the first ten minutes being used for warm-ups. as usual, bokuto rushed into spiking drills, the spherical object hitting the ground with an absurd amount of strength, reflected by the vibrations of the hardwood.

"that could've gone through a little sharper," he told himself as he prepares to retrieve the free ball.

it felt almost surreal when he'd picked it up.

you appeared through the open gym doors a little tired but okay nevertheless, attempting to fix your school uniform. your hands instinctively went to straighten your skirt which had crumpled up a little and tights which had sagged slightly near your knees.

he couldn't help but stare at you because he was wondering how it was possible for someone to look so breathtaking when they indeed had their own breath taken from them trying to catch up with an athlete, the very person now taking time out of his drills to come and greet her, or rather that's what bokuto was thinking.

"you ought to ..... run a little slower kuroo," you panted back. "i'm not used...... to running such long .......distances."

"then maybe we should make it mandatory for new recruitments to join us during our runs," he quips back with a smirk. it lasted for a few moments before you had swatted his arm rather harshly, scowling.

"remember that you forced me to come here, against my own will."

"you could've gone back and i wouldn't have noticed."

"no, you would."

so the pair of you walked away towards your coach and current third year manager who looked ecstatic to see you.

and yet, bokuto couldn't bring himself to remove his peering gaze away from you.

so much, that he didn't even realise konoha calling him out of his daydream.

"oi, the game is about to start! get up!" as they're slipping on their coloured bibs, akaashi takes a glance at the golden eyed boy, wearing a questionable expression.

"are you feeling okay? you don't need to sit this game out do you?"

he pries his eyes from your figure to face akaashi with a bright smile. he couldn't tell if it was feigned or genuine.

"yeah! i'm just excited to finally show off our new setter!"

"but i'm not playing for the whole game..."

"details akaashi! do we really need to get bogged down by them?"

the whistle sang its last song. all worries from the first year faded away. maybe he was worried about nothing afterall.

adolescence taglist:

@sirachano0dles (send an ask to be added)

#myworks #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#haikyuu scenarios #bokuto scenario #bokuto headcanon #bokuto x you #bokuto hq #bokuto x reader

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tuffduff · 4 years

Text

The First Meeting (Duff McKagan x Reader)

Pairing: Late 20′s!Reader x Older!Duff McKagan

Words: 1,951 (oops)

Request: @julessworldd : You don’t see enough of older!duff on here. I was wondering if you could do something where the reader is like 28-29 and Duff brings her home to meet his daughters. After dating for a while. Maybe the girls are sorta rude bc she’s still in here 20s and is the first girl he’s been with since him and Susan got a divorce.(I love their relationship so much 🥺). Thank you love 💗

A/N: Thank you for requesting babe!!! Kinda struggled with this one, don’t know how I feel about it, despite the length lol. Also, can I just say as a bi girl in her early twenties how wild it is that Duff’s daughters are also so fucking gorgeous and talented? Jeez. Anyways, listen to The Pink Slips if y’all haven’t, all my love to you guys!

Taglist: @ubernoxa @the--blackdahlia @reigns420 @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker

You should’ve worn the pants and blouse instead of the dress you were cooped in. Or better yet, leggings. You kept smoothing your dress down, trying to judge the distance from the hem of it to your knees. Were you going to look like you were trying too hard? Either way, you knew how was it was going to look regardless of what you wore, but maybe if you dressed more modestly...

Duff’s hand grabbing yours pulled you out of your dread. He took his eyes off the road for a second and smiled.

“Why are you worried? What is it?” You fixed your gaze straight ahead to the lines painted on the road. He always seemed to just know what you were feeling, just by looking. You would have guessed maybe you were just an open book, but no, it was only Duff that always knew. Ever since the beginning.

“Maybe we should wait a little longer.” You blurted out with no buffer, no warm-up, no nonsense. Even your voice was unsteady. Duff’s grip on your hand tightened.

“Y/N, we’ve been dating for over a year now.”

“And we could break up tomorrow.” You reasoned lightly, making Duff laugh.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” He bantered back, still a relaxed smile on his face. “I’m not going anywhere, so...” he let go of your hand to pat your thigh now. “C’mon; serious. What is it, why do you want to wait?”

“Duff, we’re so close in age. It’s...I mean, they’re automatically gonna hate me. I know I would hate me if I were in their shoes.”

“Y/N, I don’t think you realize just how easy it is to love you.” Duff mused. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s, I mean, the situation is...unique. We both know that. But my girls, we raised them to be open-minded. They just have to get to know you. They’re going to love you.” You grimaced at Duff’s assuredness.

Though you had been dating Duff officially for a little over a year, you had known each other for a few years before that, introduced by a mutual friend at a small holiday get-together. At that time, you hadn’t known Duff was newly single, you were just freaking out on the inside about having a conversation with the bassist from Guns N’ Roses and praising yourself for actually getting him to laugh. Little did you know, he genuinely liked you as a person and he wasn’t just being a fake polite celebrity interacting with someone not quite as illustrious as himself.

Since then, well, things had obviously taken off. You had even met Susan, who had split with Duff amiably and still saw each other for friendly lunches or to support their daughters. But Mae and Grace themselves? Intimidation at its peak.

Neither Mae nor Grace followed you on Instagram, they never liked pictures that Duff posted including you, and they certainly were never around backstage at Guns N’ Roses gigs if you were there. You understood from their eyes; you knew how it looked. That was just the unfortunate truth, as well as disadvantage, to being so young. Everyone thought you were just after Duff for his money or something of the sort, some kind of vanity or ticket. But it wasn’t like that; you turned Duff down several times. It wasn’t as if you weren’t interested, you were just apprehensive of dating not only an older man, but a very famous and wealthy one.

But if you weren’t going to date him for that, you weren’t going to not date him for the same reasons. And it was undeniable; you and him clicked from the very beginning. Inevitable, you could feel your heart tugging, fighting, to be with him.

You started passing more familiar houses in the neighborhood, and as you got closer, you could feel yourself sweating.

“Sweetheart, relax. Everything’s gonna be fine; you’ll be laughing by the end of the night.” You turned and looked at Duff as he parked the car in the driveway, still smiling—the yin to your terrified, panicked, yang. “Come on, breathe with me.” He coaxed you gently, and you nodded, focusing on his eyes to steady yourself before you got out of the car together.

As soon as Duff opened the front door you could feel yourself tense, as if you were expecting to get attacked from the get-go.

“Mae? Grace? You guys wanna come down and say hello to Y/N?” Duff called up the staircase. You bit your lip and again smoothed down your dress.

Mae appeared first, intimidatingly beautiful and a spitting image of her mother, dressed in a tied crop top and baggy jeans with tennis shoes. Grace was right behind her with a more obvious scowl, and to your horror, wearing leggings and a t shirt. Both girls raised their eyebrows at your dress before sharing a private look at each other that knocked your self-esteem meter down a good amount.

“Y/N, this is Mae, and this is Grace. Girls—”

“Dad, we know her; this isn’t really necessary.” Grace spoke up, refusing to look at you. Mae had her arms crossed and appeared bored.

“You’ve never met before.” Duff argued lightly. You kept your mouth shut. “And what’s with this, we’re going to dinner, remember?”

“You’ve never had an issue with the way I dressed before.” Grace argued back heatedly. “Now I have to look presentable for her?”

“No, I’m not saying that, of course I’m not saying that, honey—I would never. But Y/N put in an effort to—”

“No, no, I uh, I really didn’t know what to wear…” you blurted out, wanting to cringe as both girls turned to you for the first time. “I really should’ve gone with the leggings.”

“Do you want to change?” Duff offered. “You could borrow one of my shirts—or, you know I’m sure you could borrow one of Mae’s—”

“Dad!” Mae protested immediately.

“No! No, I’m okay.” You interjected quickly. The silence filled the room again and made a mental note that you now had a story to tell if someone ever asked what your most awkward and embarrassing moment was.

“Okay, well, dinner, yeah?” Duff asked as if there weren’t obvious tension in the air. The girls silently marched passed him towards his car and climbed in the back seat together.

“They’ll warm up at dinner,” Duff insisted to you confidently. You said nothing and remained silent as you climbed into the car.

“Who’s gonna pick the music?” Duff asked, looking back in the rearview mirror. “Grace, why don’t you show Y/N some of your stuff?”

“Why would I do that?” She muttered, staring at her phone. You swallowed a little; this was actually a topic you felt confident enough to maneuver.

“I’ve already heard some of your stuff, actually.”

“What, did my dad force you to listen to it?” Grace asked unenthusiastically.

“No. I mean, he told me you had a band, but I never listened until I heard one of your songs on this sorta underground playlist at work. I loved it, and then I realized it was you.”

“Which one?” Grace asked, her tone neutral now instead of disinterested.

“‘Texas’. I really love it. I like ‘Miles Away’ too.” There was silence and you tried to remember your words and figure out if you said something insulting.

“...Thanks. I like that one too.” She said. “We’re doing a music video for it soon.”

“Really? What kinda vibe?”

“Kinda like, road trip aesthetic. Convertible with the top down on a highway.”

“That’s so perfect, I love that.” Suddenly, somehow, you had managed to stumble your way into a conversation. Duff was smiling silently, allowing it to unfold, but you barely noticed due to the conversation.

As you pulled up outside of the restaurant you and Duff frequented, you noticed more traffic and gasped lightly at the sight of the cars filling the parking lot. “Dad, look at the line! It’s Friday night at dinner time, you know it’s always packed.” Mae complained.

“Shoot, I forgot what day it was.” Duff murmured. The line was out the door with several people waiting around out front and even more inside. He frowned, clearly unsure of what to do next, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel.

“Dad, I’m starving. I don’t feel like waiting an hour to eat dinner.” Grace added in her own disdain. For a moment, you took in the situation. Something so mundane, just with Duff and his daughters with the dilemma of trying to figure out what to eat, a little piece of his life that you were lucky enough to be a a part of. No problem, not even this, even seemed like a problem.

“Why don’t we just pick up pizza? Or burgers?” You suggested lightly. Duff turned to you and you smiled at him. “Or both?” He laughed, and that’s when you noticed you heard more than just the sound of his.

Both Grace and Mae were laughing too with smiles on their faces. “Yes! Both!” They agreed.

“Hell yeah,” Duff decided, giving you one last smile before he turned the car around.

When you finally arrived back home with your eclectic dinner assortment, you kicked off your heels immediately.

“Finally,” you muttered, not realizing the girls could hear you. Grace grinned.

“They’re cute, though.”

“You can have them.” You proposed without thinking. “I haven’t worn them in three years, I imagine it’ll be another three before I wear them again.”

“Oh, well...okay.” She said, giving you a small smile. “Thanks.” You smiled back and headed towards the kitchen where Duff was gathering utensils and napkins, a small smile on his face.

“You know, when I eat pizza I just hold it in my hand the entire time.” You joked lightly at the sight of the plates in his hand. “What?” You asked when he kept smiling.

“Thank you.” You frowned at him quizzically.

“For?”

“Earlier. Nothing ever makes you lose your cool. When I’m with you, life just feels as easy as breathing. Like it’s just supposed to be this way, you know?” You were taken aback by his words and smiled, leaning up to rest your head against his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head. “That’s why I wasn’t worried about today. It’s important to me to empower my daughters and I know once they get to know you, you’re gonna inspire them as much as you inspire me.” You let out a deep breath of appreciation, soaking in the weight of his praise, allowing yourself to feel this happiness deep to your bones.

“I hope so.” You replied. “Although, I think it’s still gonna take quite some time...” You murmured, turning to glance over your shoulder. To your surprise, the girls were already watching, whispering to each other. Mae had her phone out and smiled when she made eye contact with you.

“That height difference, though.” Mae said, heading to your side to show you the photo she had taken of you and Duff just moments prior. There was a comfort in her actions, as though she had already known you for years, watching your face and waiting for your reaction. You laughed at the picture, as did Duff, who put his arm around you and Mae both.

“I’m a real catch, what can I say,” Duff joked dryly. Mae rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, you’re in for quite the deal, Y/N…” she told you. You laughed before you privately took in the picture before you, Duff and his daughters settling down for an evening together, and somehow, that involved you. Quite the deal indeed.

#duff mckagan #guns n roses #duff mckagan imagine #thank you for requesting!#guns n roses imagine

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here4theheartbreak · 4 years

Text

Shared Souls and Snake Scales

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Jimin x Jin Genre(s): Smut, Fluff

Rating: Explicit Tags: smut, fluff, soulmates, soulmate marks, demigods, tentacle monsters, human/monster romance, Nagas, shapeshifting, side Hoseok x Taehyung, double penetration, tentacle sex, come inflation, rough oral sex, dirty talk, unrealistic sex, aftercare, multiple orgasms, barebacking, bottom!Jimin, top!Jin

Summary: Jimin worries he'll never find his soulmate. It's rarer and rarer in today's world. So when his soulmate mark appears without him ever having knowingly touched someone, confusion abounds.

Word Count: ~14.1k

Hoseok let the heavy box of books drop to the floor with a thud, wiping sweat from his brow. “That’s the last one.”

Jimin bounced in, adding a smaller box and an armful of bags to another pile in the wide living area. “Thank you so much, Hobi; it would’ve taken me all day to do this myself.”

“It still took us all day,” Hoseok joked, letting Jimin wrap him into a hug.

“Okay, it would have taken me a week. Are you hungry? I ordered enough – it should be here soon.”

“Starving.” Hoseok looked around the mostly empty apartment. “It’s big… You got it for so cheap. Did you ask why?”

Jimin shrugged, turning to begin assembling a bookshelf lying in pieces in the corner. “I didn’t really ask. She just said they were eager to rent it out and folks never seemed to stay long enough to complete their leases.”

“Why?”

“I have no idea. It’s gorgeous. I could never imagine leaving early. I might renew the lease even, as long as nothing major comes up.”

“It’s kinda…” Hoseok shrugged, rubbing his hand over his forearm quickly. “Kind of a creepy feeling in here, isn’t it?”

Jimin paused, looking around himself. His brows furrowed. He could feel something… There, but it wasn’t creepy.

“No. I like the feeling.”

“Feels like we’re being watched,” Hoseok complained. He crouched down to begin helping Jimin assemble the shelf.

“Sort of… But not a bad thing. Like someone watching over you, right?”

Hoseok cocked a brow. “Feeling like you’re being watched in an empty apartment on the third floor should be uncomfortable, Jimin.”

Jimin shrugged again. He didn’t know how to explain it to Hoseok, really. Something felt right about this place. And sure, it was in a great part of town, it was spacious and adorable as hell, and it was super affordable, but there was something more. Jimin had felt like he was home the second he stepped beyond the threshold. There was a sort of tingle in the base of his spine, and an ease that slipped over him, like warmth on a cold winter morning.

He knew the stories of soulmates – the warm fuzzies someone gets when their missing piece is close, the tingle of sensation. Jimin wondered if maybe his soulmate was nearby, another apartment? Another building near? He knew it was silly. Irrational fairytales meant to soothe the ache of those in his situation, those without their complete souls. With the population of the world and no guarantee that your soulmate was on the same continent, let alone the same country or city, finding a true soulmate was like hunting for a needle in a haystack. Maybe it was an evolutionary advantage, or maybe it was a punishment from a past life; whatever it was, Jimin hated it. No matter how happy he was, he felt… Empty. Hoseok tried to understand, but he couldn’t. He’d been one of the lucky ones. He found his soulmate two years prior; a sweet guy by the name of Taehyung. He went to the same college that Jimin and Hoseok attended, and had actually become fast friends with Jimin first.

Jimin glanced down at the beautiful tattoo of shimmering black and silver film strip that wound its way around Hoseok’s forearm. Taehyung had a similar one, though his was sheet music of a tune Hoseok had written as a teenager. Jimin longed to see his own tattoo. Feel the comfort it brought, sharing an intimacy greater than any shared with a non-soulmate. Fairytales. Jimin knew he’d end up settling for a random person – or nobody. He’d never find his soulmate.

The two unpacked and ate, then unpacked some more, deciding a mattress and the television and a few electronics were the key things needed on this first night in the new apartment. As the darkness grew deeper and the cool chill of night set in, Hoseok tugged on his hoodie.

“Are you sure you will be safe here?” He asked for the fortieth time.

“Yes, Hobi. It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ve never lived alone…” Hoseok said softly.

“I know. And that’s why I have to do this. I’ll be okay. You’re only a few blocks away and phones are a thing.” Jimin shoved him playfully. “Time for you to let your Jiminie go.”

Hoseok laughed, ruffling Jimin’s hair.

“Well fine,” he conceded, “I’ll be over tomorrow morning to help you unpack more.”

“I’d like that. Goodnight, Hoseok.”

“Night, Minie.” Hoseok waved as he walked down the hall to the elevators. Jimin shut the door and turned to face the apartment, now faced with the deafening silence of solitude.

Jimin unpacked a few boxes, exhaustion hitting him like a truck now that he didn’t have Hoseok to keep his mind occupied. He managed to find a bowl and chopsticks, plugging in the microwave and making himself a bowl of ramen for a late-night snack before curling up on his mattress in his new bedroom. Now that the darkness had settled in, the creepiness that Hoseok had mentioned was beginning to creep into his bones. The apartment was settled just right so the city night lights didn’t really enter through the window. Instead, the pale moonlight filtered through, casting humanoid shadows from the stacks of boxes piled around the room. The closet door was ajar, and the deep darkness seemed to creep out onto the wood floor further and further the longer he stared. Biting back a shudder, Jimin rolled onto his side, staring at the wall until he was unable to keep his eyes open further.

The following week was a bustle of activity for Jimin. His friends came over often, helping him unpack and set up his apartment just right. This was the first time he’d been truly on his own, and despite his brave façade, he knew his friends could see the truth…. He was a bit terrified. But they did their best to make him feel like he was comfortable and going to be alright. Nights were the hardest; it seemed like no matter what Jimin did to make his room (and entire apartment) feel comfortable and homey, there was a thin layer of unease that churned his stomach into a nervous bubble. The unease – strangely enough – was often combatted with a sense of heavy calm like nothing Jimin had ever felt before. It settled into his bones and helped him find sleep despite the dark cloud of worry threading through him. A bizarre feeling, but one that – after three weeks in the new apartment – Jimin had simply come to accept as natural.

It was the morning exactly three months after he’d moved in – and the morning after the landlord had knocked on his door at six in the evening inquiring if he’d decided to move out yet (“no, why?” had cued a nervous laugh and a “no reason” from the landlord before the reminder that the rent was due in a week). Jimin woke up more refreshed and relaxed than he had in months. A tingling sensation seemed to cover his entire body, starting from his spine and radiating outward as he laid in bed. But it wasn’t uncomfortable or painful – rather it was relaxing, like the softest touch of a masseuse or the breath of a sleeping lover. The relaxing sensation had him drifting in and out of sleep far too long than he should have, and he was forced to rush through his shower and morning routine to make it to his Friday classes on time.

The day passed in a whirlwind despite there being nothing major happening. Jimin felt the strongest urge to go home and curl up in his room, warm under his covers and ready to nap with his partner. Partner. Lover. Boyfriend. The words echoed in his mind all day despite him having been all but celibate for the past six months. Oddly, the words didn’t leave that sullen ache in Jimin’s gut like they had for so long. Rather, that comforting tingle from that morning returned, running a glissando from his neck down to his tailbone and back up. He wondered if his gut had been correct the month before. If somehow – by some fateful twist of luck, his soulmate was somewhere in the same building. Of course, Jimin hadn’t met any of his neighbors to that point. He’d heard someone below him moving around at one point, but everyone seemed to keep to themselves, which was excellent for a quiet apartment building… Less excellent if one of them happened to be an elusive soulmate.

Despite his urge to head home as soon as his classes let out for the day, Jimin allowed Hoseok to convince him to go to the apartment they used to share (that he now shared with Taehyung). Once there, he was roped him into an evening of drinks and games.

Jimin stretched out on the floor, his eyes closing of their own will. They opened when Taehyung giggled, and a pang of longing struck his heart. Hoseok was nosing his way along Taehyung’s throat, placing gentle kisses on the tanned skin.

“I should get home,” Jimin said softly. It wasn’t that his friends made him feel badly on purpose; they never complained when he was with them and they did their best to include him as more than a third wheel. But they were soulmates and it showed. And it stung.

Taehyung leapt off the couch and tumbled onto Jimin, knocking the wind from his lungs. “You’re going nowhere,” he argued. Jimin laughed, trying to push his large friend off him.

“You’re drunk.”

“Am not, I’m contentedly tipsy.”

“Sure. Get off, I can’t breathe.” Jimin shoved at Taehyung’s side again. This time the other rolled off, but grabbed Jimin and forced him to roll along with him. Jimin squawked and pushed at him, giggling helplessly when Taehyung began to tickle his sides. The two rolled around on the floor a moment, ignoring Hoseok’s pleas to watch out and not break anything.

They couldn’t ignore him, however, when he shot up and grabbed the back of Jimin’s shirt. “When did you get a tat— Jimin!” Hoseok shouted.

Jimin scrambled up, surprised. “What are you talking about?”

Taehyung rose as well, circling behind Jimin. He gasped. “That’s no tattoo… Jimin, how could you not tell us you met them? What are they like? Are they a boy? Girl? Non-binary? What the hell.” Taehyung shoved Jimin a little. He shook his head and turned.

“Who?”

“Your soulmate.” Hoseok said, crossing his arms. Both he and Taehyung looked a bit stunned, and a bit hurt. Jimin scowled.

“I haven’t met my soulmate, what are you guys on about. I’d have told you both first off.”

“Then explain your soulmate tattoo.”

“Honestly, it’s sort of weird. I feel like you’d know if you met him,” Taehyung argued.

“I don’t have a soulmate tattoo!” Jimin cried, his heart clenching in panic. Taehyung turned him and yanked his shirt up over his head. He heard the flash of a phone camera and Taehyung let it drop before handing the phone over.

On the center of his back, starting at the base of his hairline and stretching down approximately a quarter of his spine, was a beautifully detailed heart made of what looked like octopus tentacles. It was a rich purple-black with tiny speckles of pinkish.

“It’s so uniquely colored. It shimmers like oil in the light,” Taehyung said.

“And the sparkles are like… Glittery. I’ve never seen a soulmate mark that intense… Who is it, Jimin?”

“I—” Jimin tried to speak, unable to take his eyes away from the photograph. His back tingled like it had been all day, radiating from that spot on his back. He reached back, touching where it started on his neck. “I have no idea,” he whispered.

“I wonder if he’s some kinky freak or something,” Taehyung joked. Jimin looked at him, horror painting his features.

“You know, because of the tentacles,” Taehyung grinned, but a knot of grief and worry wound tight in Jimin’s belly.

“I—”

The smile slipped from Taehyung’s face. “I’m sure he’s not. He’s probably an ocean lover. Marine biologist maybe? Oh, that cute guy that does music with you, Hobi – Isn’t he a huge marine animal fanatic?”

“Namjoon? Yeah, but… This is new, isn’t it, Jimin?”

“Yeah. I didn’t have this last week.”

“And Namjoon’s been away visiting family for nearly two,” Hoseok said. “Do you have any idea who you touched this week? When this might have happened?”

Jimin shook his head. He backed up, slumping into a sit on the couch. Involuntary tears blurred his vision and he shook his head again. “I don’t know. I… Finally get my soulmate mark and I don’t even fucking know who he is.” He dropped his face in his hands. His heart seemed to shatter at the realization, a sharp twinge of pain in his chest and a wave of nausea rushing over him. Taehyung hurried to his side, wrapping an arm around him and pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

“You’ll find him, Minie. If you got your mark then he got his too. I’m sure he’s looking everywhere for you. And you don’t travel a lot places, right? I mean – the school, back to your apartment, here. I mean you do your job on campus, but that doesn’t have a lot of face to face student contact. There’s only a few people he could be.”

“Or she,” Hoseok suggested. Jimin glanced up and chuckled without much humor. “Wouldn’t that be a riot. I’m a gay man and my soulmate’s a girl.”

“It’s happened. I’m sure you two would figure it out.”

Jimin slouched back against the couch, sighing. “How did I miss it? I thought when I found my soulmate it’s be some amazing, mindblowing thing. The way you two discuss it… It seemed like it was so beautiful.”

“I mean, it was,” Taehyung agreed. “But we were able to see the tattoo appearing on each other’s arms, that was half of it. The seeing and knowing what it meant. If we hadn’t been able to see it, I don’t think it would have been near as mindblowing physically.”

Jimin shrugged halfheartedly. His mind was running a mile a minute, trying to think of everyone he could have potentially even brushed hands with in the past week. How long had it been there? When was the last time he actually looked at his back in the mirror? Would someone else have noticed it appearing suddenly? The questions flooded Jimin’s mind, but one thing remained clear. He had his soulmate. Likely in his very city, even potentially someone he saw daily. But he had just as little clue as to who it could be than before.

“Why don’t we help you hunt him down tomorrow?” Hoseok asked suddenly, breaking Jimin out of his rabbit trail of thoughts.

“Huh?”

“Your soulmate. I bet we can track them down if all three of us really put our minds to it. There’s only so many folks it could be in our area, right?”

“I guess so.”

“I know it’s disappointing… But be happy, Jimin. You have a soulmate. We just gotta find them,” Taehyung said, pushing Jimin playfully. He tried to smile, but knew it came off as flat.

“I think I should just head home for the night. It’s late.”

“Let me walk you,” Hoseok said. Jimin shook his head, rising and tugging his hoodie on. “I want to be alone right now. Just to think, okay?”

Hoseok nodded. He and Taehyung both hugged Jimin and bid him goodnight, requesting a text when he reached his apartment safely. Jimin headed out into the cool evening air, his heart heavier than it had been all day.

Strangely, as he walked, he seemed to feel a sensation of peace come over him. Like he was going someplace he needed to be. It was reasonable, he figured, since he was heading home. But his home had never felt this way. That subtle thread of dread and fear had always kept him from feeling entirely at peace, but now it seemed like that was gone. Maybe he’d finally realized he enjoyed the apartment. Maybe it was something to do with the soulmate mark. Jimin was rightfully too drained to bother dwelling on it. He’d worry about it all tomorrow, he figured as he stripped out of his coat and shoes once in the apartment.

In the bathroom he couldn’t help but twist to admire the intricate tattoo on his spine. A perfect anatomical heart made entirely out of what looked like octopus tentacles, the one matching the vena cava snaking up almost into his hairline. It was larger than his fist and the outline shimmered in the light like it had been tattooed with iridescent black ink. The colors of the heart itself shifted, deep shimmering purple-black making up most of it, reminiscent of an oil slick, but highlighted in areas with a rich, vibrant, metallic magenta. The entire piece was stunning. Reaching back, Jimin traced the outline as he looked at it, his heart both swelling with the pride of finally having a mark… And aching that the person who gave it to him was not in his arms.

Jimin flopped into bed in his shorts, staring up at the dark ceiling as he thought about who his soulmate might be. Was he a kinky guy like Taehyung had implied? Jimin wouldn’t mind. A sea animal lover? Marine biologist? Sushi chef? The possibilities were endless. And what did his tattoo look like? Jimin’s passion was music – how did the two work together? Was it even a guy? A girl, a nonbinary or genderfluid person maybe? Jimin didn’t think he’d mind. He’d always been into guys, but knew soulmates didn’t always follow those rules. Jimin drifted off to sleep, wondering if he would ever find the one that had left the mark on his back.

Jimin woke with a start to the whisper of his name. He looked around the pitch black room, dread settling onto his chest like a weight. It was far too dark. He glanced up to where his window should have been opened a bit, letting in the cool night air and the light of the city. Instead he was met with nothing but shadows, creating a blackness on top of a blackness. He pulled his blanket a little higher up his chest. He had to be dreaming.

“Can’t run,” the voice was right in Jimin’s ear, cold and chalky. Jimin screamed, shooting up into a sitting position. An unseen pressure landed on his chest, knocking him back flat onto the bed.

“Can’t run!” The voice shouted again; almost taunting him as he struggled. Something cold, slimy, and thick wriggled up Jimin’s bare chest. He screamed again and grabbed it, feeling it squish under his fingers like the body of a particularly slimy eel. Two more eel like appendages wrapped around his wrists, squeezing and forcing his hands down to the bed. The one on his chest was joined by a second, and both moved up and curled around his throat. Jimin shouted when they began to squeeze, closing his airway. He struggled, bucking off the bed with all his might in an effort to loosen the grip of the things on his throat and wrists. Instead, he felt two more wrap around his ankles, pinning them to his bed. Another slid over his chest, pressing down with an inhuman strength. Jimin screamed brokenly once more, his voice cracking with lack of air. His vision began to grey around the edges as consciousness slipped away.

Jimin shot up in bed, his entire body soaked and tense. He clawed at his chest and throat, the memory of the slimy things still fresh in his mind. With panicked eyes, he looked around, relieved to see his room in its normal state, the soft filter of the city lights illuminating his desk and bookshelf, dresser, and television. He slumped back down in his bed, now uncomfortably cool and damp from the sweat as he struggled to control his breathing. He hadn’t had nightmares in months, and couldn’t recall ever having one so vivid and disturbing.

Every time Jimin closed his eyes he could feel the slick, wet things running over his body, the squeeze of their grip on his neck, and the terror that his life was in danger. It wasn’t until the sun had already begun to lighten his room that he finally found the will to drift off to sleep once more.

Jimin flailed, swinging his arms out when Taehyung nudged him. He’d nearly fallen asleep at the table, his cheek smushed against his hand as he stared mindlessly at the people passing by in the college cafeteria.

“You okay?” Taehyung worried, grabbing Jimin’s shoulder to keep him from falling out of the chair.

“Hm? Yeah.”

“We’ll find them, Jimin. I promise,” Taehyung said.

“I know. I mean, I don’t know, but I’m not stressing. Honestly I’m just so tired I can barely focus.”

“Not enough sleep?” Hoseok asked.

“Not at all. Terrible nightmares.”

“What about?”

Jimin chuckled, stretching and shaking his hands out in an attempt to wake up a little bit. “Don’t laugh… But tentacle monsters.”

Taehyung and Hoseok both burst into laughter.

“I said don’t laugh,” Jimin deadpanned, smirking after. He reached across the space and grabbed the coffee Hoseok was sipping on, taking a swig. “It was horrifying. They were pinning me down and choking me, it felt so real.”

“I wonder if it’s a manifestation of missing your soulmate?” Taehyung theorized, tapping his finger on his chin. “I mean we don’t know what the tentacles signify, and obviously you don’t know who your soulmate is, so I wonder if it was a manifestation of your stress about it?”

“Why aren’t you a philosophy major?” Hoseok asked, and Taehyung chuckled.

“Probably because he’s fuckin’ crazy,” Jimin said, shaking his head. “But you’re probably right. It just sucked. And I didn’t sleep well because of it.”

“We could try again tomorrow,” Taehyung suggested. “We’ve been sitting here for a few hours with no luck. Maybe this isn’t where you bumped into him.”

Jimin’s shoulders sagged. He looked desperately around at the emptying cafeteria, as if his soulmate would magically reveal themselves to him.

“I know it’s disappointing,” Taehyung whispered. He wrapped an arm around Jimin’s shoulders. “Wanna try another location today before giving in for the day?”

“No,” Jimin whispered. “It’s pointless. I’m never going to find them. They probably haven’t even noticed it. It’s on our backs – Who actually stares at their own back? They aren’t looking for me.” Jimin clenched his lips against his teeth, struggling not to say more. Even if they were looking for him… Was he worth finding? What could he offer a soulmate? After all these years longing for one – did he even deserve one?

“Jimin.” Hoseok’s voice was soft. “Don’t beat yourself up for this.”

“’M not.”

“You are. Wanna come to our place tonight? Stay over maybe?” Taehyung offered.

Jimin shook his head. “I’m tired, honestly. I think it’s time to call it quits… I should go try to rest.”

“Jimin—”

“I’m okay,” Jimin said again, gathering his belongings and stuffing them into his backpack. He offered what he hoped was a convincingly comforting smile to his friends before hurrying out and off the campus toward his apartment.

When he reached his apartment, he settled in to work on some of his homework that had built up, brewing a pot of coffee far too strong to be healthy to keep him awake at least a few more hours. Going to bed this early in the evening would do nothing to help in the long run. The house felt almost suffocating in its silence. Jimin watched the sun set through his window, normally soothing to him; tonight, he felt an uneasy weight on his chest, as if he was being watched. He was used to a general ‘watched’ feeling in his apartment, but not like this. This felt like his nightmare. Dark and big and sinister.

Despite the unease he felt, he crawled into bed, unable to keep awake even with the aide of caffeine. “No bad dreams tonight,” he whispered as he scrolled through his phone. Hoseok had texted him a few times, as well as Taehyung once, so he sent a quick text letting them know he was okay, and headed to bed. Despite his bad attitude that day, he was very grateful for his friends being there, willing to help out. He set his phone on the bedside stand and sighed into the darkening room.

“No bad dreams.”

Jimin’s eyes snapped open. He looked around the pitch dark of his room, watching the way the shadows of the passing cars filtered over his belongings. It was his room, not a weird space like last night. He touched his nose, lightly pressing his nail against it just enough to hurt. Okay, likely awake… So, what had woken him?

A creak from the doorway caught Jimin’s attention. He sat up, sheet pooling around his middle. “Hello?” He called out instinctively, wondering if Hoseok or Taehyung might have come by. They were the only ones with the key to his apartment. Did Jimin remember to lock the door? Panic clenched a fist around his heart.

Another creak, and his half-shut bedroom door squeaked open slowly. Jimin’s breathing picked up and he kicked his legs up, trying to push himself to the top of the bed, as far from the door as he could. He glanced around the dark room, wondering if he could reach anything that could be used as a weapon.

“Who’s there?” He called again into the black hallway. The silence as absolutely deafening. Jimin could hear his heart thudding in his chest.

“Hobi? This isn’t funny.” Jimin tried to keep the shaking from his voice. The floor creaked again, and his door pushed open the rest of the way. The temperature in the room immediately dropped low enough that Jimin could see his breath. The darkness from the hallway seemed to grow and expand, oozing into Jimin’s room like some sort of goo.

The first tentacle came from his right, just out of his vision until it wrapped around his arm, yanking him nearly off the bed. Jimin screamed. He grabbed at the thing on his wrist, so black it looked like shadows. It was wet and thick, and Jimin could feel the pressure of small suckers like an octopus against his skin. Another wrapped around his left arm, yanking it away. Jimin screamed for help, his eyes bulging as the dark creature fully entered the room. It was huge and black, almost invisible in the dark room. But every speck of light seemed to be swallowed by the thing; the lights of cars, the glint of the moon. The only clear thing on the creature were its eyes, rich and blood red.

And its teeth, Jimin realized, when he saw a glint of eerily white, sharp fangs. He screamed again.

A tentacle jammed itself into his mouth. The wet, slimy feeling on his tongue tasted of oil, blood, and dirt, and Jimin gagged. He bit down as hard as he could, feeling a spray of something warm and coppery. The creature reared back, making a noise akin to a record scratching. It withdrew from his mouth, but another wrapped around his throat and began to squeeze. Jimin continued to scream until the ability to draw air for breathing was more important than screaming. Still he struggled, and each time he did more tentacles wrapped around his body, squeezing, bruising, and pinning him.

Jimin’s vision began to grey out at the edges, his heart stuttering in his chest as he struggled to breathe. This was it – this was how he was going to die. He wondered about the soulmate he’d never found. And his friends, they would be devastated. Just before the blackness of unconsciousness swallowed Jimin up, he heard him.

“Let that human go!”

The tentacle around his throat loosened momentarily and Jimin forced his eyes open wider. A towering figure stood in the entrance of his closet. A man – sort of – with a bare chest and broad shoulders. Where his legs should have been was a tail, melding into the flesh of his waist. It was thick and scaled, thinning out at the end like that of a gigantic snake. Even in the low light Jimin could see the way it shined almost iridescent black and purple.

“I said let him go!” The snake-man roared again when the tentacles stayed put on Jimin’s body.

“You can’t give me a command and expect me listen, you freak.” The voice from the creature holding Jimin hostage was thick and deep, almost sounding like he was speaking underwater. It sent chills down Jimin’s spine.

“This is my house,” the snake-man said. “That is my human!”

“You haven’t so much as raised the hair on his arms! You’re a pathetic monster! They sent me to do what you can’t, weakling!”

The tentacle began to tighten around Jimin’s throat again. The snake-man snarled. Six tentacles burst from behind the man, the same iridescent shimmer as his tail. They wrapped around the shadowy figure suffocating Jimin, yanking at the tentacles holding him down. The tentacles released, allowing Jimin to scrambled upright. He snapped the light on as the two figures fought in the center of his small bedroom, overturning things on his dresser and desk. He looked around, desperate for an escape route to the door, but found the way blocked by the snake-man’s tail. He was stuck. He grabbed his blankets and pillows, trying to put as much of a barrier as he could between himself and the creatures. With the light on he could see his attacker – a tall lean figure covered in what looked like matte oil from head to toe. He had at least eight tentacles, but the movement made it hard to count, even if Jimin had wanted to. Tears flowed freely from Jimin’s eyes as the snake-man got his arms involved, grabbing and twisting two of the tentacles of the other. It screamed in pain, swearing at the snake-man. One of his tentacles, a thicker one than the rest, twisted around the attacker’s throat, squeezing hard until his tentacles – and body – began to sag.

“I told you this is my territory. This is my house. You, nor any one else from this realm, will enter. If you do, I will kill you on sight. You know I have the strength to.”

“You—” The creature choked out, “You’re done for, freak! I’ll see to it you’re never welcome back in our realm!”

“I hate that place anyway. As long as you keep away from my home, we’ll be fine.” He lifted the creature easily with the tentacle around his throat and threw him into the closet. Jimin squeaked in surprise when a doorway seemed to open, swallowing the creature before closing and leaving nothing but the closet wall and Jimin’s clothes.

The snake-man turned. His face was strikingly beautiful, even with the light smattering of ridged scales along his cheekbones and brow bone, trailing down his nose.

“Are you okay?” He asked, slithering toward Jimin. Jimin scrambled back, sobbing brokenly. The man paused and looked down.

“Oh God, of course. Hold on.” His entire form seemed to shimmer and shudder in front of Jimin’s tear blurred eyes. When he cleared up, instead of the half snake form, a normal looking man stood in front of Jimin. He wore a pair of black pants and had bare feet. He stood just around six feet, with a shock of shaggy black hair. His face was stunning with or without the ridges, eyes dark and piercing. His chest was still bare, with well-defined muscles every visible spot. “Did he hurt you?”

“Wh—” Jimin swallowed hard, steadying his breathing. “What are you?”

“My name is Jin. I—It’s hard to explain. We’re sort of… Monsters under the bed? Or, I guess in your case, in your closet.”

“Monsters aren’t real.” Jimin whispered, looking nervously at the closet.

“Well, we are.” Jin walked over, touching the back wall. “The way to our realm has been sealed – he won’t be back. I’ll go, you don’t need to worry. You’re safe.”

Jimin’s eyes widened as Jin touched the wall. On his bare back, directly between his shoulder blades, was a detailed, anatomical heart made out of musical notes, a perfect match to the one Jimin had… In the same color pattern as the scales on Jin’s tail and face.

“This will seem like a bad dream in the daylight,” Jin said, turning his head just enough that Jimin could make out his profile. He pushed the wall again, opening what looked like another door, similar to the one that had swallowed his attacker.

“Wait!” Jimin cried, shooting forward before he realized it. “Your tattoo.”

Jin hesitated. “I don’t have any tattoos.”

“On your back.” Jimin pointed. Jin frowned, glancing back as far as his neck would let him. Jimin laughed a little at the action, almost forgetting that the handsome man standing in front of him was a monster just two minutes prior.

“The mirror.” Jimin pointed to the now crooked mirror on his wall. Jin went over to it, turning and checking. His eyes bulged when he saw – seemingly for the first time – the tattoo on his back.

“What is that?” He bellowed, clearly surprised.

“It’s a soulmate tattoo. It’s… It’s a match to mine.” Jimin turned enough that Jin could see his back. He turned back, his heart thudding against his ribs. “Did you – Have you touched... Touched me?”

If it was possible for a nearly six-foot man to look small, Jin managed. His ears reddened visibly and his shoulders sank. “Once. I—I’m such a creep. I’m supposed to be a creep, I suppose, but I’m bad at it. You—Were sleeping and I brushed your hair from your face. A few nights ago. I’m so sorry, I won’t bother you again.” He turned and rushed toward the opening.

“No!” Jimin shouted, his heart clenching in fear that the man would leave for good. He should let him; he was a monster… But he was Jimin’s soulmate. That had to mean something. “Please, don’t go yet,” Jimin said softly when Jin hesitated again. “Please talk to me.”

Jin lowered his gaze. He waved his hand, shutting the doorway that he’d opened. He leaned against the wall, eyes still downcast.

“What are you?” Jimin asked.

“A monster. That’s all that matters.”

“But monsters aren’t supposed to be real. Please, Jin—You said your name was Jin, right? I’m Jimin.”

“I know. I learned your name right away, when you moved in. I’m the monster that haunts this apartment. Or, I should. I’m supposed to terrorize anyone in this bedroom. But with you, I—I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you were the most beautiful thing I’d seen in my time in this world. I couldn’t bear the thought of scaring you away and never seeing your face again.”

Jimin smiled a little at the out of place compliment. “Why do you scare people?”

“My kind—The monsters, we feed on fear and terror. Death is like a twelve course meal to us. Any time a monster scares someone, it energizes our world.”

“So you need fear to live?”

“Not me personally. I’m different. That’s why Donghyuk was calling me a freak.”

“The one that tried to kill me.”

Jin nodded. “I’m not fully a monster. I’m also part Naga. My father was a Naga who fell in love with my mother – she was a monster. They had me. I’m part monster, the tentacles, the job… But also part demi-god.”

“I’ve heard of Nagas. They’re snake people. The tail—”

“Yes. I use it for my monster work, but it’s a sign of my other half. It makes me a freak.”

Jimin nodded, his brows furrowed. “The mark—”

“I can’t be your soulmate, Jimin,” Jin said softly. “I know what they are, in theory but I’m a monster. I don’t even know if I have a soul.”

“You have to.”

Jin tilted his head questioningly.

“A soulmate mark appears because two people share the same soul. It’s the sign of the soul finally becoming complete. If you didn’t have a soul… You wouldn’t get a mark. You share my soul, Jin.”

“But I’m a freak, I can’t do good. I’m a monster, you’re a beautiful human, I—”

Jimin’s heart clenched at the fear tightening Jin’s voice. Without thinking, he crawled out of his bed and rushed to him, wrapping his arms around his broad shoulders. Jin gasped and tensed at the touch, and Jimin could feel his heart pounding erratically. “You share my soul. Monster, Naga, it—We’ll figure it out. I’ve been waiting years to find my soulmate… Please don’t run away.”

Jin relaxed a little when Jimin spoke. He wrapped his arms lightly and awkwardly around Jimin’s middle, clearly unsure what to do with himself.

“Aren’t you scared of me? You saw my other form… You saw what I am.”

“I’m scared,” Jimin admitted, “but new things are scary. I want to learn about you, so maybe you won’t be so scary to me. And right now you aren’t. You’re beautiful.” Jimin stepped back a little, searching Jin’s face. His dark eyes had the lightest shimmers of deep purple, the same color as his tail. “You’re really beautiful,” he whispered.

Jin smiled sheepishly. “First time I’ve heard that. I mean… Without being called a freak right after. Beauty isn’t a thing to be proud of where I’m from.”

“Where you’re from. That thing—He said you couldn’t go back.”

“Right. The way has been locked to me. I broke the rules. I’m banned.”

“That’s your home.”

Jin shrugged. “Never been much of a home. And I can go to other worlds. Live there.”

“Or you could live in this one,” Jimin whispered.

Jin’s small smile dropped. “I couldn’t. I don’t know your world. I’d scare people.”

“Not in this form. You look perfectly human. I could teach you what you don’t know. Get you a job.” Jimin swallowed hard. “You’re my soulmate. I found you. Or, you found me. Or maybe I was drawn to this place because of you. Please… Give me a chance.”

Jin chuckled softly. “Why is the beautiful human begging the monster for a chance? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” His voice was soft and gentle as he gazed into Jimin’s eyes. Jimin’s chest tightened almost uncomfortably.

“Well the human already wants you to stay… If you want to.”

Jin remained silent for a moment, his eyes roaming over Jimin’s face. He wet his lips. “If I can be honest…”

Jimin nodded, giving him the go ahead to speak.

“I want to kiss you right now.”

“Nothing stopping you,” Jimin said, shrugging. He stepped back up to Jin, his heart thudding a rhythm so loud he worried others could hear it.

“Have you ever…”

“Been kissed? In the past, yeah. I’m not entirely innocent… Are you… You haven’t?”

“I have. Not a very good one, it was a dare.” Jin chuckled. “Kiss the freak, sleep with the freak type thing. I’m really too hideous to have found anyonei in my world, or this one.”

Jimin shook his head. He touched Jin’s cheek. “No, you aren’t.”

“This isn’t all of me, Jimin. You saw what I am.”

Jimin stepped back. “Show me.”

“What?”

“Show me all of you. I won’t run away. You’re my soulmate, I have a choice too. I either accept all of you, or none of you. That’s only fair to you.”

Jin hesitated. He glanced at the closet and then around the small room. “Back up a little more.”

Jimin obeyed, crawling back onto his bed. He sat cross legged, watching Jin. The air around him began to waver and shimmer like it had before, but this time Jimin could see more clearly, the shift between skin and scales as the tail grew from his hips and engulfed his legs. When things settled, Jin still stood, his tail curled around him in a lazy series of loops. He was resting his elbows on the topmost, head on his palm.

“And the… Rest?”

“These?” Jin shifted his shoulders just a bit, and the tentacles appeared behind him. There were six in total. Two were thick like those of a marine creature, with suckers along the light grey underside. Two were far thinner, almost whiplike, but they seemed to pulse in a steady rhythm. And the final two were just a few inches around, smooth and slick looking. All six matched the oil slick iridescence of Jin’s scales. They twitched and moved around him seemingly of their own volition.

Jimin rose, ignoring the knot in his stomach. “Can you control them?”

“Mostly. They move on their own sometimes, a bit like an animal’s tail, I’d imagine. But I won’t hurt you.”

Jimin reached out slowly. He ran his hand over one of the loops of Jin’s curled tail, relaxing a little. “You’re cold.”

“Cold blooded. The snake part of me. I’m actually quite cozy.”

“And so smooth.” Jimin stroked another spot, letting his blunt nails brush over the ridges. Jin giggled.

“Tickles.”

Jimin smiled softly. He reached up, palm outstretched, toward the tentacles lazily twitching behind Jin. A large, suckered one moved forward, bumping Jimin’s hand. Jimin let it wrap loosely around his palm, giggling a little at the feel of the suckers. They were gentle, entirely unlike the ones grabbing him earlier. He reached his other hand out and grabbed the smooth, slick one, not missing the way Jin gasped and shuddered visibly.

“Does it hurt?”

“No… That—That one feels kinda good.”

“Oh.” Jimin hesitated. “Oh!”

Jin lowered his gaze a little. “Sorry. There’s so much about me you don’t know, I’m afraid of overwhelming you.”

Jimin let go of the smooth tentacle, noticing the light sheen of liquid on his hand. It was the same dark oil slick shimmer as the rest of Jin’s non-human parts. “What’s—”

“Uh… Now is where it gets awkward.”

“Come?”

“It can be used sexually but it’s… Not like that. Just a natural, uh… Like a human’s spit. Something that it just makes naturally. Helpful for a lot things. But, yeah… It’s often used as lubrication for that.”

Jimin bit his lip. He reached for the smaller ones, surprised when it twitched out of his grasp.

“Those ones are far more sensitive… And very much for mating.” Jin explained.

“So two for grabbing, two for everything, two for sex. Sounds pretty rounded. Do you… I mean you can shift into a human form. Do you have all the human parts?”

“Well… Sort of. I have a penis, if that’s what you’re asking. But I sort of have two. It’s a snake thing.”

“Wow.” Jimin huffed a stunned laugh. He slid his hand over the tentacle still on his wrist, gently moving up and down his arm. “Is this how you guys hold hands.”

“No. To be honest I just… Really like touching you. It’s been a long time. That’s why I brushed your hair that night. I didn’t mean to touch you, I was watching over you and I just couldn’t resist.”

“It’s the night you gave me this…” Jimin reached back to where his tattoo was.

“May I see it closer?”

Jimin turned, leaning his head forward a little. He felt Jin’s fingers, startlingly warm in comparison to his scales and tentacle, brush over the mark. “It’s me. My colors and my appendages… What is the one on my neck?”

“May I photograph it? It’ll be easier for you to look at.”

“Just don’t get the rest of me in it.”

Jimin nodded. The tentacle on his arm released to allow him to walk to his bed and grab his phone. He took a photo, carefully avoiding the non-human parts of Jin, then reached out and brushed his fingers over it. It was an anatomical heart, same as the one on his neck, but it was made out of various musical notes, lined and twisted together. It was bright shades of rainbow that seemed to shift as Jin did, the holographic opposite of his own oil slick dark.

“Is everything okay?” Jin worried.

“I’m just admiring it.” Jimin walked back around and handed over his phone. Jin examined the tattoo carefully, his brows furrowed.

“You like music.”

“It’s my passion. I’m a music major in college even. Dance, specifically.”

“And the colors – Opposite to the one you wear.”

“Maybe because we’re so opposite… It’s definitely a soulmate mark though.”

“I have a soul… I share your soul,” Jin whispered. He let Jimin take the phone back and toss it onto the table.

“So what now?” Jimin asked softly, clasping his hands in front of him.

“Well… I’m your soulmate and you’re mine. And you.. You’ve seen all there is to see from me, mostly… Do you still want me?”

Jimin reached out, sliding his hands over the scales once more. He traced the subtle patterns in them, remaining silent. One of the suckered tentacles reached out, brushing his hair from his forehead. Jimin smiled, reaching up and grabbing it. He gave a playful squeeze, laughing a little when Jin’s eyes slipped closed.

“I want you,” Jimin finally whispered. “Even like this.”

“So I’ll stay,” Jin said softly.

“You’ll need to be in human form most of the time… Is that okay?”

“Yes. I don’t want to frighten the humans in your world… I want to fit in. I’ve seen you with your friends, you have so much fun.”

Jimin beamed. “Taehyung is going to love you. I can’t wait to introduce you two.”

“What if I mess up?”

“Tae’ll be the best one to do it to. He’s my best friend. He will keep your secret even if you slip. He’ll be a good test run.”

“And a job? I have no schooling… Not like you humans.”

Jimin tapped his chin in thought. His other hand was still absently tracing over Jin’s scaly body. “We’ll find you something. Maybe something online, I can teach you to use a computer. Or something simple, cleaning at my college maybe, or if you’re a good cook. But we’ll figure that out later. Right now, I want to get to know you, and get you used to this world.”

“You’re too kind…”

“I told you, I’ve waited a long time for my soulmate. I want to be good for you, and make sure you’re happy.”

Jin shifted then, slowly uncoiling his tail. He moved forward. “Don’t be scared. Stay still.”

He began to move in circles around Jimin then, recoiling himself lightly around him, careful not to squeeze. He ended up nearly face to face with Jimin, just a bit taller, his arms around him. “This is how I hug.”

Jimin grinned broadly, looking around at the scaly cage Jin had trapped him in. He touched everywhere he could, sliding his hands along the coils and touching the place where they faded into Jin’s belly. Jin remained still, letting Jimin’s hands explore.

“How strong are you?”

“Stronger than you’d care to know in the center of my coil, trust me.”

“Could I climb over them?” Jimin wondered.

“Easily.”

“Could you pick me up with it?”

“In theory yes. In practice, a bit harder without hurting you. Far easier to pick you up with my arms than my tail.”

“Fair point… Do you shed like a normal snake?”

Jin rolled his eyes. “Twice a year. It’s hell. I look horrible and it’s so itchy,” He complained.

“Well now you’ll have me to help scratch the itch when you need it. I bet we can find some stuff to help too, I can talk to my friend Jungkook. He loves snakes.” Jimin traced his finger along Jin’s waist where the scales met skin. He looked up at Jin, smiling softly. “I should really get to bed.”

“Hm… You could sleep right here. I’m far more comfortable than that bed.”

“I can’t sleep standing,” Jimin complained, but made no move to get out of the center of Jin’s coil. “You should sleep with me.”

“What?”

“Well, don’t you sleep?”

“Of course.”

“So, I only have one bed. And I’m not going to make you sleep on the couch. If you’re in human form, you should fit.”

“I… Don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” Jimin asked. Worries filled his mind. Did he smell? Was Jin not into him like that? What if he was forcing Jin into this?

Seeming to sense his concern, Jin raised his hands. “It’s not you,” he said. “It really is me. I—I’m finding my response to you very alarming.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… It’s been a long time since I’ve been touched so kindly and my body—I—I’m responding to it in a way I didn’t expect.”

Jimin frowned for a second, trying to piece together what his adorably shy soulmate was hinting at. When it clicked, he laughed.

“You don’t wanna sleep with me because you’re horny?”

Jin’s entire face reddened visibly. He looked everywhere but Jimin. “Well, when you put it so bluntly…”

“It’s okay,” Jimin said quickly. He pressed himself against Jin’s chest, wrapping his arms around his middle. He looked up at him. “It’s okay. You’re really handsome and I get it. Trust me.”

“Even like this?”

“It took some getting used to but… Yeah… You have a gorgeous face and you smell amazing and… The tentacles…” Jimin bit his lip. “Could be fun.”

Jin swallowed hard. “You’re not making it any easier.”

“I’m kind of hoping to make it harder.” Jimin chuckled to himself. “Make them harder, I suppose.”

Jin’s breath caught in his throat. “We just met.”

“We don’t have to do anything… I’m just letting you know… You aren’t the only one feeling like this. So, if you want to sleep with me. My bed’s available. As soon as I clean up the mess that asshole made of my room.” Jimin looked around at the sorry state of his bedroom. Jin did as well, making a small noise.

“Let me help.” He uncoiled from Jimin, shifting back into his two-legged form. The two cleaned up the furniture and fallen items in relative silence, each deep in thought about the changes that had come that evening.

When they finished, Jimin drew in a breath through his teeth, looking Jin up and down. Jin looked down at his own body.

“Something wrong?”

“Well, you have on jeans. That can’t be comfortable to sleep in. We’re different sizes but I think I have something.” Jimin padded over to his dresser, digging around for a few moments. He made a noise of success and pulled out a pair of baggy pajama bottoms. He passed them over to Jin. “Try these… I won’t peek.”

He flopped onto the bed on his back and threw an arm over his eyes dramatically. The room remained silent for a moment. When Jimin heard the telltale zipper sound, he couldn’t help but shift his elbow just a bit, peeking out from under his arm. Jin was working his jeans down his muscular hips, facing away from Jimin. Jimin felt his heartrate pick up as Jin’s ass was revealed, just as muscular and tight as the rest of his visible skin. Jin turned his head a little.

“I know you’re peeking.”

Jimin giggled, moving his arm from his eyes. “How could you tell?” He asked, not bothering to hide his gaze. Jin dropped his pants, giving Jimin a clear view of his ass as he stepped out of them. Much to Jimin’s disappointment, he remained turned away from him as he pulled the pajamas on.

“Because I can sense when someone is watching me. Defense mechanism.”

“Well that’s no fun,” Jimin pouted. He moved over against the wall. “Come to bed.”

“Are you sure about this, Jimin?” Jin asked, turning to face him.

Jimin nodded. “I know… Things are strange. But I also know we’re meant to be together. That’s what soulmates are. There’s really no moving too fast when you know it’s fate, is there?”

Jin tilted his head. “You’re not wrong. And… My kind don’t really have a moving slow part of relationships… We usually just date to breed. But I know your kind does.”

“Well, sometimes… Other times just dating to breed can be fun,” Jimin joked. He shook his head. “But soulmates are different. We don’t need to do anything, I’m not expecting more than to sleep. I’d just like to make sure you feel welcome here too.”

Jin crawled onto the bed, laying stiff and awkward on his back.

“Do you mind cuddling?” Jimin asked softly.

“I’ve never done it… But it sounds nice.”

Jimin moved closer, feeling Jin tense beside him. Jimin placed a hand on his firm stomach, splaying his fingers.

“Relax,” he whispered, letting his lips brush Jin’s earlobe. Jin drew in a quick breath. He placed his hand over Jimin’s, his body relaxing a little.

Jimin swallowed hard. He brushed his nose lightly over the soft skin behind Jin’s ear, inhaling. He smelled both sweet and bitter, wildflowers in a field of woods, moss and dirt, fresh honey and an ocean breeze. Jimin let his lips rest on Jin’s neck. “Earlier… You said you wanted to kiss me,” he whispered, feeling goosebumps raise against his lips as he spoke in soft puffs.

“I did.”

“Do you still?” Jimin raised his head, propping himself up on one elbow. He met Jin’s dark gaze, dropping his own down to Jin’s mouth and back up. “Want to kiss me.”

Jin nodded haltingly, his own eyes lowering. Jimin wet his lips.

“Why haven’t you?”

Jin shrugged one shoulder. Jimin could see his face reddening just a bit, creeping up his neck and ears.

“You’re so shy. Something I wouldn’t expect for a demigod… Or a monster in my closet.”

“I’m not used to being seen. Or looked at with such kindness,” Jin admitted.

“It’s what you deserve.” Jimin leaned a little closer. “So if you want to kiss me… You should.”

Jin swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he did.

There was a weight on Jimin’s chest. He wanted so badly to lean down, to taste Jin’s soft, full mouth. But he didn’t want to push. Jin seemed torn, eyes darting between Jimin’s gaze and his mouth. Jimin offered a small smile.

Jin took a deep breath then and smiled as well. He reached up and let his hand rest on the back of Jimin’s neck. He leaned up, closing the gap between their mouths.

Jimin gasped at the feel of Jin’s soft lips against his own. They slotted together perfectly. He darted his tongue out, brushing over Jin’s bottom lip playfully. Jin huffed softly against his cheek, his mouth curling into a smile even in the kiss. He let his head drop and Jimin followed, not wanting to break it yet. It deepened slowly, mouths moving together and finding an easy rhythm. Jin’s breath tickled his skin, the tongues brushing and retreating in an almost playful dance.

Emboldened, Jimin shifted over, swinging his leg over Jin’s hips and settling onto his lap. He buried his fingers in Jin’s soft, dark hair, tugging just a little. The whine Jin gave was heaven to his ears. Jin slid his hands down Jimin’s back, his grip firm and steady despite his earlier hesitation. He cupped his ass and gave a little squeeze. Jimin giggled. He pushed his ass back against Jin’s hands, tugging at his hair again. Jin groaned then, and his teeth clamped lightly on Jimin’s bottom lip in a clear warning.

Jimin moaned into his mouth. He let his hips jerk down, meeting Jin’s aggressively. He could feel a stiffness in Jin’s pants, and his mind wandered to Jin’s earlier confession about his anatomy. Curious, he ground down again, and Jin moaned. He finally broke the kiss, keeping his mouth close to Jin’s, just pulling back enough to gaze into his eyes. Jin’s eyes were lust blown dark, blinking quickly to focus on Jimin’s face as he began to grind against him.

“Jimin—”

“Does it feel good?”

Jin nodded, grabbing Jimin’s hips. Jimin leaned back, settling fully on Jin’s lap. The front of his sweats were tented out with his erection, a tiny spot darkening at the tip. He began to grind against Jin’s crotch in a steady rhythm, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

Jin whined, arching up against Jimin. “Please—”

“Please what?” Jimin asked. He stripped his shirt off and slid his hand down his own chest, playing his fingers along the string of his sweats. “Do you want to see me?”

“God, so badly,” Jin confessed. He grabbed Jimin’s wrist when he went to untie his sweats. “But it’s so late… You don’t know what you’re getting into with me.”

As if on cue, the tentacles emerged from Jin’s back, reaching toward Jimin. Jimin’s breath caught. His cock twitched in his pants and his stomach knotted. He didn’t know what he was getting into… But he wanted to find out.

“I don’t have to be up early.” Jimin leaned forward, reaching out for the smooth middle sized one. He stroked it gently, feeling it pulse and throb in his hand. “You can do it all to me.”

“Jimin—” Jin whined, baring his teeth against the clearly pleasurable feelings.

“Can you feel this? When I play with them?” Jimin asked, grabbing the other mid-sized tentacle and beginning to squeeze gently.

Jin nodded. “Yeah. It’s distant… Just a tease but I—God, it feels so nice.”

“Do they all—”

“I can feel from them all. Some are more sensitive.”

One of the tentacles with the suckers reached Jimin’s belly, moving in a lazy pattern over and up. Jimin wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or moan. The gentle suction tickled, but was so strangely erotic. He let go of one to place his hand over it, sliding his fingers up. “These ones are less slimy.”

“They’re not meant to go into tight places.”

Jimin whined at the thought, tensing his ass a little. He shifted, leaning back over Jin to press another kiss to his mouth. “Do you want me, Jin?”

“Yes.”

“Naked? Yours?”

Jin nodded, pressing another kiss to Jimin’s mouth.

“Take me.” Jimin whispered against his mouth.

As if waiting for the okay, all six of Jin’s tentacles shot out, wrapping around Jimin and flipping him onto his back on the bed. The two largest made quick work of his sweats, twisting and tearing them off to leave him naked and shivering in excitement. One slid over his chest, the suckers tightening and tickling over his nipples. A slick one wrapped around his achingly hard cock, sliding up and down it. Jimin moaned, tossing his head back. As he did the other slick one took advantage, sliding over his tongue and and forward until he gagged. He felt a pressure on his thigh and his eyes snapped open, surprised to see Jin kneeling. Jin forced Jimin’s thighs open, sliding his palms over the smooth skin of his legs. Jimin shuddered, feeling exposed, but so turned on. Another one of the suckered tentacles wrapped around Jimin’s leg, holding it open with ease. The first whiplike one shot forward and Jimin squealed around the tentacle in his mouth, feeling it’s cool, thin tip prod at his entrance.

It was small enough that it was barely a push when it slid in, but Jimin’s eyes rolled back in his head. It twitched and jerked inside him, searching for his prostate. When it found it, Jimin’s entire body tensed, his cock twitching in the grip of the other. Jin laughed a little, a high, joyful noise.

Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut. He began to suck at the tentacle in his mouth, letting it pump back and forth like a cock. The sticky fluid surrounding it was both sweet and bitter, sugary like honey but with the lightest undertones of burnt tea. The more he sucked, the slicker the tentacle seemed to become, dribbling over his tongue and down his throat, forcing him to swallow. At the same time, the tentacle in his ass seemed to swell, spreading him open further. He whined, looking down at Jin. He wanted to ask what was happening, but the one in his mouth gave him no chance. One of the suckered ones splayed over his chest, teasing his sensitive nipples as it rubbed gently.

Jin had his hand down the front of his pajamas, palming himself as he watched. The one wrapped around his cock let go, moving down and pushing into his ass, thrusting gently to relax the muscles. The final whiplike one shot out, curling around his cock and squeezing hard enough to make him whine. It let go then, and circled his tip with it’s own, teasingly gentle. Jimin watched with wide eyes as it opened like a flower and engulfed Jimin’s cock. The sensation was overwhelming. Warm and wet and unbearably tight, Jimin could see himself through the thin skin of the tentacle as it throbbed around him. He reached down, pressing at the base of his cock to stave off his orgasm, but Jin swatted his hand away playfully.

“Don’t stop your pleasure, Jimin,” he whispered, his voice thick with lust.

Jimin choked around the tentacle, shaking his head until it backed up and let him draw in a breath. “I don’t want to come too soon. I want to feel you – Make you feel good too.” His own voice came out thick and wet, like he was talking through a mouth of gum. He wondered if it had anything to do with the fluid he’d been swallowing.

Jin laughed then, crawling over Jimin. Jimin could see the tentacles coming from his back, surrounding them. “You think you’ll come once and be done? I warned you, Jimin… You didn’t know what you were getting into.”

Jimin swallowed hard. He licked his lips, tasting the fluid on them. “What am I getting into?”

“Humans… They’re so soft.” Jin slid his hand over Jimin’s stomach. “So easily exhausted and broken. My kind… We fuck for hours, Jimin. This is foreplay baby. So you can come. Enjoy it… Because I’m going to keep you coming. Until I can’t wring another drop out of your beautiful body and you’re full to brim with me.”

Jimin’s cock throbbed hard in the warmth of Jin’s tentacle. “Oh god…”

The tentacle prodded at Jimin’s bottom lip once more and Jin chuckled. “Keep drinking this like water and you’ll have a hard time resisting...” He warned. “It’s an aphrodisiac.”

Jimin met Jin’s gaze. He smirked and opened his mouth, leaning his head up to suck gently at the tip of the tentacle. He pulled off with a pop and wet his lips. “I don’t need an aphrodisiac to want to be fucked by you, Jin. I’m yours.” He leaned up, pressing a desperate kiss to Jin’s mouth. The thin tentacle inside Jimin swelled further, working open his tight rim. The other began to thrust deeply, driving in and twisting, prodding deeper than Jimin though possible. He threw his head back, shouting Jin’s name as he came. The tentacle sucking at his cock seemed to squeeze tighter, and Jimin’s eyes fluttered open in time to see his come ballooning it like a condom.

“Wh—” He tried to speak, pleasurable shudders wracking his body. His question was answered when the tentacle pulled off his cock and rose, brushing against Jin’s lips. He opened his mouth, letting his eyes slip shut as it dribbled Jimin’s come onto his tongue. He moaned happily and licked his lips as he swallowed, looking down at Jimin.

“You taste amazing.”

“That was… Fuck.” Jimin gasped when the tentacle in his ass drove deeper, throbbing. “Jesus!” He whined.

“You’re so much tighter up here,” Jin teased, reaching down to tickle his finger over the smooth skin above Jimin’s pubic mound. He grabbed Jimin’s hand and pressed it down on that spot. Jimin’s eyes widened. He could feel the steady throb of the tentacle deep within him. He whined. “It’s gonna hit my stomach if you keep going,” he worried. “Don’t worry… You’re totally safe. I won’t hurt you.” The tentacle throbbed again, and Jimin shuddered.

“I’m so full.”

“This is nothing.”

“Can I see you?” Jimin panted. “You still have pants on…” He reached out for Jin’s pajamas, only to have both wrists yanked away by tentacles. They pinned his arms to the bed, and Jin smirked.

“You like this. Being bound like that, don’t you?”

Jimin swallowed hard. His cock was already thickening against his thigh, there was no denying it. He nodded.

“We’ll keep you like that then. No need to use your hands when I can pleasure every where at once anyway, is there?”

The tentacle previously in Jimin’s mouth prodded his lips again. He opened eagerly, and it drove in, bumping the back of his throat. Jimin’s eyes welled with involuntary tears.

Jin leaned down, pressing a kiss to his ear. “Breathe through your nose. Slow and steady…” Jimin obeyed, letting his eyes slip shut.

“Now, swallow, and don’t panic.”

The tentacle flattened a bit, pushing deeper into Jimin’s throat. He gagged once, twice, and then swallowed, his heart skipping a beat when the tip slid into his throat.

Jin moaned desperately against his shoulder, shuddering. “That’s it… Keep sucking and swallowing… Fuck—” He hissed. The tentacle remained somewhat flattened, allowing Jimin to breathe. He wanted to gag, but forced the reflex back with steady swallowing, the smooth, silky fluid easing the way each time.

Jin shuddered and writhed over him, his breath coming in uneven, desperate pants. Jimin lifted his hand as much as the tightly gripped tentacle would allow, grabbing Jin’s hand and squeezing.

Jin met his gaze, smiling open-mouthed. “So perfect,” he whispered.

Jimin felt his own cock, once again hard, engulfed by the same tentacle as before, a steady, firm sucking feeling along the shaft. He rolled his eyes back, the sensations entirely overwhelming, and better than he’d ever imagined.

The tentacles up Jimin’s ass drove deeper, and the thicker one began to throb. Jimin squealed around the one in his throat, feeling a strange pressure deep inside. Jin’s eyes rolled back and he shuddered, panting Jimin’s name.

At the same time, the thin one swelled further, stretching Jimin near to the point of pain. Jimin felt every little twitch and throb, a rhythmic pattern the same as the one deep inside his body. Come, he realized absently. He was being filled with come, or whatever the equivalent was. He began to bob his head along the tentacle down his throat, swallowing rapidly. He felt it slip a little deeper and swell, cutting off his breathing for a moment before it relaxed. Jin buried his head in the crook of Jimin’s neck, whimpering and moaning softly.

Jimin struggled against the tentacles holding his wrists, sobbing desperately. One let go and Jimin grabbed the tentacle down his throat, stroking and squeezing the part nearest his mouth.

Jin screamed against his shoulder, his entire body shuddering. The tentacle swelled again, but when it relaxed Jimin felt the thick liquid filling his throat. He swallowed as quickly as he could, fearing suffocation if he didn’t. There was so much of it, pouring out as rapidly as he could swallow. The tentacle retreated, still spurting the thick, hot liquid. Jimin gripped it to keep it in his mouth, feeling it spray over his tongue. It was nearly the consistency of come, but had the same burnt tea and honey flavor as before. He couldn’t get enough. He sucked hard as he could, swallowing every few seconds. It was dribbling out of his mouth, tingling as it ran over his chin and neck.

The ones in Jimin’s ass continued to spurt as well, the thicker one using the released fluid to drive a bit deeper. Jimin’s stomach ached with a fullness he’d never felt before. His cock throbbed and twitched, balls clenched tight to his body as he neared a second orgasm.

Jin pulled back suddenly, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. “It’s my turn,” he panted. Jimin’s ass clenched around the invading tentacles. He spread his legs open wider, allowing Jin to move back and settle between them.

As he did, the one in his throat pulled back completely, spraying one final rope onto his chest and stomach. Jimin looked down, his heart stuttering for a moment. He prided himself on how fit he was, his toned stomach the envy of many of the other dancers in his classes. But now it was rounded, swollen just above where the tentacle was pouring into him. The iridescent black spray of the tentacle painted it in splatters, giving it an obscene look.

Jimin looked up at Jin, panic crossing his face.

“Don’t worry,” Jin soothed, sliding his hands over Jimin’s hips. “It’s normal. And you look so good… Belly full of me… Haven’t even had my come yet.”

Jimin shuddered, his cock throbbing. “Please—” He rasped, throat thick and sticky.

“Oh I will, baby. You’re gonna come one more time before I do. I need you nice and relaxed. You did so good. Made them come so much. Now you come.” The tentacle around his cock picked up its pace, rubbing along his cock and squeezing. Jin leaned back, tugging his pajamas off for the first time.

Jimin’s eyes bulged. As promised, he was more than well endowed. His cock was thick and long, curving upward at an angle Jimin knew would hit his prostate dead on. Directly under that, hanging a little lower was a second cock. This one was far less human looking. It was an inch or two shorter, ending in a relatively severe looking blunted tip. The head was conical, with little ridges as it widened. The shaft itself started slender but thickened toward the base, bulging out right above the base of it. Along the top of this second cock were thick bands of ribbing, almost reptilian in nature. Under this second cock were Jin’s balls, smooth and even.

“Are you okay?” Jin whispered, clearly noticing Jimin’s stare.

Jimin looked up, licking his lips. “Only if you promise you’re gonna fuck me with both of them,” he whispered.

Jin’s eyes widened a little. “It’s a lot.”

“I can take it. You’ve stretched me so good,” he whined, squeezing around the tentacle still swollen inside him, though the spurts of come had tapered off. “I wanna take them.”

He reached out with his free hand. “Can I suck them?”

Jin nodded. The thicker tentacle shot out and grabbed Jimin’s wrist, and both yanked him upright, shifting the fluid inside him and making him cry out in pleasure-pain at the sensation. Jin used his hands and the tentacles, arranging Jimin on all fours. The thin one still worked at his cock, eager to milk another orgasm out of him, and the other two remained deep in his ass, working as a plug.

Jin guided Jimin’s head down to his cocks, shivering when Jimin licked the head of the bottom one. It was rougher than a human’s, and the opening was on the underside of it.

Jin groaned. “Suck on it, baby… Come on, just like before. Suck it,” he whispered. Jimin opened his mouth obediently, letting Jin push his head down slowly. The cock filled his mouth, quickly, the swollen bulb at the bottom too big to slip past his teeth. He tucked his lips carefully when Jin hissed, tugging his hair. “Be gentle, sweetheart…”

Jimin began to bob his head in apology, moaning around him. The ridges felt foreign to his tongue, hard and solid with a thin softness of skin. He squeaked in surprise when he felt the tentacle from his mouth prod at his ass.

Jin chuckled breathlessly when Jimin pushed his ass back. He leaned over Jimin, spreading his ass. “You love it,” he panted. “Love them up your ass.”

Jimin whined and nodded, bobbing his head faster.

“Let it in then. Take the third one for me, lemme feel how loose you are for my cocks,”

Jimin pushed back against the invading tentacle, squealing when it slipped in between the other two. He shuddered as it rubbed over his prostate, snaking its way through him to join the other deep inside.

Jin tugged his hair. “That’s it, take them for me. So pretty opened up like this. Come on, suck the other one for me.” He pulled a little more forcefully, making Jimin’s stomach knot in pleasure. He pulled off Jin’s cock with a pop, panting and letting his mouth hang open. He looked up at Jin, smirking as well as he could. “If you like my ass open for you, what about my mouth? Do I look good filled from both ends, Jin?”

“Fuck—” Jin swore softly.

Jimin opened his mouth wider, letting his tongue hang out. Jin moved forward. He drove the human-like cock into Jimin’s mouth until it bumped the back of his throat. Jimin gagged hard, but leaned forward, eager for more. Jin’s fingers remained buried in his hair as he began to pump his hips, moaning low and deep in his throat. Jimin sagged on the bed, held up only by the tentacles inside him and wrapped around his middle and Jin’s firm grip on his head. The weight of the fluid deep in his guts was an unnatural, arousing pressure each time he moved. Every secret kink, ones he didn’t even know he had, Jin was hitting them all. His entire body was overstimulated but eager for more, buzzing with excitement. His cock was throbbing in the sheath of Jin’s tentacle, the others edging him closer and closer. And this wasn’t even sex for Jin’s kind. The idea sent a shiver through his entire body. He was in heaven and the night wasn’t even over. Jin’s cock nudged the back of his throat again, making him gag hard. He moaned brokenly when Jin pulled his cock free, only to replace it with the other. This one slid deeper, easily nudging further into his aching throat.

His orgasm took him by surprise this time. He screamed around Jin’s cock, shuddering as he spilled into the tentacle surrounding him. Jin pulled back, holding Jimin’s head up to watch his face as he shuddered and jerked through his orgasm.

“What a good boy,” Jin purred, making Jimin smile tired.

“Is it my turn to get fucked?” he mumbled.

“Oh yeah. Gonna fuck you good now, baby. You still want both my cocks?”

Jimin nodded. He made a small noise of surprise when he was lifted from the bed by the tentacles and flipped onto his back. The two suckered ones held his legs up to his chest and open, tilting his hips up.

“Relax. Wanna make sure you don’t lose a drop until I’m all done with you,” Jin instructed. The tentacles began to pull out one by one, leaving Jimin whimpering and empty. When the final deflated and pulled out, he whined. Jin sighed softly, smiling down at Jimin as he gazed over his body.

“You are so beautiful.” He dipped two fingers into Jimin’s ass easily, withdrawing them with a rope of the dark fluid. “And so wet for me. Relax, okay?”

Jimin nodded. Jin settled on his knees and began to bring Jimin down toward him. The tip of the first bumped against his hole and slid in with an embarrassing ease. Jin chuckled. “Now the fun part. He shifted Jimin, the tentacles still holding his legs open. Jin guided his second cock under the first and began to push.

“Breathe,” He instructed Jimin. Jimin nodded, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself. The pressure was intense as Jin worked his way in, but not unbearable. Slow and steady, the cocks nudged forward together. Jimin whined and shifted, trying his best to help. He felt so full – even with the three tentacles in him prior and the weight in his stomach, nothing compared to Jin’s cocks pushing into him for the first time.

“Now the hard part,” Jin panted. Jimin could feel the swell of the second cock pushing against him.

“I want it,” Jimin whispered. “Put it in me… Make me all yours, please… Kiss me?”

Jin leaned down, catching Jimin’s mouth in a deep kiss. He pulled back and drove in over and over, working the thickest part in bit by bit. When Jimin’s ass opened to take it, letting Jin push in until their hips were together, they both moaned.

Jimin wrapped his arms around Jin’s shoulders, looking up at him. “So good… So big,” he whined.

“I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else, you know,” Jin teased. Jimin giggled, wiggling against his lap.

“You have. Nobody could make me feel as full as you.. Please… Soulmate… Take me.”

Jin lowered his head into another gentle kiss. He began to thrust gently at first, letting Jimin get used to the tug of the swell on his cocks. But as Jimin whined for more he picked up speed, seeming to sense exactly what he needed. The tentacles on Jimin’s legs released, allowing him to wrap his legs around Jin’s hips as he drove into him.

Jimin’s cock ached, hardening again despite the painful throb in his oversensitive balls. He reached up, touching the gently bobbing tentacles. Jin shivered.

“One of these days,” he panted as he fucked into Jimin, “I’ll use you with all of them at once.”

Jimin whined, his ass clenching down hard enough that Jin groaned.

“You’d love that,” Jin teased. “Being opened up on all of me. Feeling every single one fill you so full you look swollen. Really make you feel what it’s like to fuck a monster in your closet.”

Jimin screamed Jin’s name as he came untouched, his cock dribbling weakly despite the intensity of the orgasm. He clamped down on Jin’s cocks, earning a hiss.

“Fuck… God, Jimin—”

Jin drove deep and went still. His cocks throbbed and twitched, balls squeezing rhythmically against Jimin’s ass as he came. Jimin’s eyes rolled back before shutting, a small smile on his face. Even as his orgasm faded, Jin was shuddering through his, adding more to the small swell in his stomach. Jimin laid quietly, stroking Jin’s back and clamping around his cocks as he worked him through his orgasm.

When it faded, Jin sagged on his arms, groaning tiredly. Jimin giggled. “Wow.”

“Did I hurt you? Jin worried.

“I’m going to be sore as fuck tomorrow… But not even a little. I loved it… I .. I love you. I know we just met and that’s weird for you but… Soulmates are…”

“I know,” Jin hushed Jimin with a kiss. “I feel it too.”

Jin glanced down at their bodies. His tentacles slowly and lazily retreated, leaving his back bare and smooth to Jimin’s touch. Jimin glanced down, his cheeks pinking up at the way his stomach still was still rounded. He touched it lightly.

“I’m going to be a mess when you pull out.”

“Understatement… I can try to get you to the bathroom.”

“Not a chance… I can already feel it leaking out. I swear you dumped two gallons into me.” Jimin giggled a little. “Is sex always going to be like that?”

“No, not always. I can have sex like… I guess like a human would, only let one of my dicks extend, keep the tentacles away. I still come a lot, I can’t help that, but it’d be far less.”

“Well, that’s good to know… But I like this way too. Even if it is a mess.”

Jin shifted and lifted himself off Jimin gently. As soon as he pulled out, Jimin groaned, a flood of fluids following his exit. His cheeks pinked up. “Oh God, I’m so embarrassed.”

Jin laughed a little. “Why?” He stood and scooped Jimin up easily in his arms, nuzzling his cheek.

“I’m a mess.”

“I made you a mess. And you’re beautiful. Especially for my kind… Sign of a great night. Come on, lemme take care of you.”

Jin walked to the bathroom, still carrying Jimin bridal style. He laid him in the tub and turned on the water, digging around a moment for a wash cloth. “Give me one second.” He hurried out of the bathroom, leaving Jimin staring after him.

He leaned back in the tub, letting the warm water fill it and relax his muscles. He closed his eyes, his mind replaying the highlights of the evening. The way Jin’s lips felt on his own, the looks they shared, the smiles and soft noises Jin gave during his pleasure. A smile crept across Jimin’s face. He had a soulmate. A demigod soulmate. Sure, a monster, technically – But there was nothing monstrous about Jin.

Jimin glanced over when Jin entered the bathroom again, now wearing his pajama bottoms. He was carrying a clean pair of sweats for Jimin. “I changed the sheets and threw the others in your wash.”

“You certainly know your way around my apartment,” Jimin said. Jin knelt and grabbed the washcloth, turning off the water and soaping it up before beginning to wash Jimin carefully.

“I’m the monster in your closet. I’ve been watching you for months. I know everything about this place.”

“That’s comforting, in a way. You know all my bad habits and quirks… No nasty surprises.”

“Nothing nasty about you.”

“Can I ask a sensitive question, Jin?”

Jin nodded, shifting to the edge of the tub and reaching in to gently wash the tender skin of Jimin’s ass as well as he could.

“You’re a demigod, and a monster – Are you… Old?”

“I’m twenty-eight. I age the same as you do,” Jin said. “Fair question. But we all age.”

“So… Growing old together…”

“Entirely something that can happen.”

Jimin smiled softly at that. Jin pulled him forward, washing over Jimin’s back.

“Where do the tentacles go?” Jimin asked suddenly.

“They retreat into my skin. Become just a part of musculature. I can feel them there all the time, and extend them at any time.”

“Same with your other dick? You mentioned retracting one.”

“Yes. The snake anatomy. I can use one or both. I tend to go with the more human looking one just because it fits this form better.”

Jimin nodded. When Jin determined he was clean, he opened the drain and helped Jimin stand, toweling him off.

“You’re being so sweet.”

“You’re my soulmate. And just gave me an amazing night. It’s the least I can do.” Jin paused, his brows furrowed. “I can’t believe I have a soulmate.”

“Is that something monsters and demi-gods don’t have?”

“No. I’ve never heard of it,” Jin admitted. “I didn’t even think we had a soul.”

Jimin reached out, grabbing Jin’s hand. “You do. You’re too kind not to. You share my soul.”

Jin smiled softly, squeezing Jimin’s hand. “I couldn’t have asked for a better person to share it with… Let’s get you to bed.”

Jimin let Jin lead him back to the bedroom, their fingers still twined.

They crawled in, and Jimin settled into the crook of Jin’s arm, resting his head on his shoulder.

“This feels nice,” Jin mumbled contentedly.

“Is it odd for you to be in this form? Human with legs?”

“No, this is the one I prefer. When I’m in my Naga form, my tail tends to get in the way.”

“Do you sleep like humans?”

“Opposite schedules usually – since I’m up scaring sleeping humans most of the time. But this is far preferable.”

Jimin giggled. “I wanna stay up and talk to you all night,” he admitted. “Learn everything about you.”

“We have more than just the night. You need your rest, especially after our activities. I’ll be here in the morning.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Jimin closed his eyes, listening to the steady thump of Jin’s heartbeat. He’d found him. He found his soulmate. After all these years. It wasn’t the person he’d expected, sure, and they’d have some learning to do, but they were finally together. And Jimin had never been happier.

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thestylesindependent · 4 years

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Inside Eroda, the fictional Harry Styles island that’s baffled the internet

Full Text from The Telegraph 4/12/2019

It all started on November 20. A Twitter account opened in October released its first post: “The Isle of Eroda’s rich history is embedded in daily life as the ruins of many structures from the past remain standing across the land. #VisitEroda”

It looked like a new marketing campaign for a little-visited, off-beat beauty spot. But a quick search would show it didn’t actually exist. Yet, Eroda had a website. Advertisements for the place were popping up on Facebook and Google. People interested in all manner of nerdy subcultures were foxed – it had the whiff of a clever marketing campaign about it, but what was it for?

Within hours, an Eroda subreddit had been created to discuss it. People dived deep into web hosting details, and only became more baffled as they seemed legitimate: “it ain't no kid doing a school project”. Was it a scam, a game, an elaborate prank? Some were convinced it was the beginning of a new Cloverfield film, World of Warcraft, a new Channel 4 series or even a means of human trafficking.

Meanwhile, scores of “Harries”, the sub-group of Directioners dedicated to Harry Styles, were piecing bits of evidence together. The pop star was due to release Adore You, the second single off his forthcoming sophomore album. “Adore” backwards was “Eroda”, and the video, released on November 23, looked like it had been shot in St Abbs, the Berwickshire fishing village where Styles had been spotted shooting in August. As Eroda claimed more of the internet, Harries – some of the most forensic fans in the world – were sent into a flurry of investigation.

The goliath churn of a pop star marketing campaign is fairly familiar by now: cryptic social media teaser, excitable release date news, lyric video, full video, rinse, repeat.

Styles, who will release sophomore album Fine Line on December 13 and Adore You on Friday, satisfied many speculating fans on Monday with a near-three-minute-long trailer for the single, along with an illustration of the star standing in the ocean, surrounded by fish.

To those who had been studying Eroda for the past 10 days it was the confirmation they had been hankering for: Eroda was a Harry Styles project, and it confirmed what they had always known – that he is an artist beyond the normal realms of pop frippery (by contrast, former bandmate Louis Tomlinson spent the same afternoon releasing a video in which he sings in a bunker wearing a Stone Island parka).

Styles’ trailer introduced Eroda, showing it to be an island in the middle of the Irish Sea “shaped unmistakably like a frown, it is home to an all-but-forgotten fishing village that has had perpetual cloud cover for as long as anyone can remember”. Scenes appear of a typical coastal village, with crashing waves and brave little houses facing them. It gets increasingly weird: we learn that it is bad luck to “mention a pig in a fisherman’s pub” and to “whistle in the wind, in case you turn a gust into a gale”; the island mustn’t be left on odd-numbered days.

The inhabitants of Eroda’s village always frown, calling it “resting fish face”. Until, that is, a beaming baby appears amidst the gloom. Deemed “peculiar” (a word that pops up a lot), the boy – who grows up to become Harry Style – was outcast, leading him to deal with his angst by screaming into jars. “He had lost his smile, and without it, the world grew darker, the wind colder, and the ocean more violent” the pan-European narrator explains. “Loneliness is an ocean full of travellers trying to find their place in the world”, she continues, as Harry finds himself bonding with a stubborn fish, before the film ends “to be continued…”

So far, so intriguing. But delve a little deeper into Eroda and you may find yourself wanting to visit. The island’s website – beautiful island views and a template dating back to the late Noughties – looks remarkably similar to those for any other charming coastal holiday destination, say Bute or Oban. “No Land Quite Like It”, reads Eroda’s strapline, before offering a familiar-enough menu: Accommodations, Attractions, Guide, Home and About Eroda. The video is similarly convincing: “Make memories for your senses at VisitEroda.com”, a dulcet-voiced woman encourages over shots of crabmeat and speedboats.

It didn’t take long for the Harries to take over the Eroda subreddit, moderators becoming increasingly rigid in ruling nuggets of unrelated Eroda flotsam irrelevant to the cause of discovery (such as the user who wanted to discuss Eroda, but without any intervention from the Harries). Tumblr users were similarly invested: “What do the ominous references to Him portend? What are they serving at those town dinners? You think it’s a cute little coastal AU [alternative universe] but upon closer examination it’s full-on Wicker Man meets Hotel California meets Nightvale in the afterlife (which is what most of those places are anyway so sure why not),” posted 1D Discourse of the Day.

The whole thing is littered with wordplay. Eroda, for one, is Adore backwards (Harry’s next single is called Adore You). But, as Directioners have pointed out, the copy throughout the website nods to forthcoming Styles songs: The Fisherman’s Pub is located on the corner of Cherry Street and Golden Way (Cherry is one new song, Golden is another); the album will be released on Friday, 13 December and Eroda recommends avoiding a departure on an odd-numbered day. Eroda’s fishermen wear a single gold earring for good fortune – a look historically sported by Styles.

Directioners went further still: the hosting for VisitEroda.com and Styles’ website, doyouknowwhoyouare.com, were owned by the same company, MarkMonitor.inc. Social media pixels linked pages about Styles with Eroda. Fans became suspicious over Visit Eroda adverts appearing not on their social channels or YouTube, but, of all places, on Wikipedia. “I'M FROM FRICKING PORTUGAL,” a baffled Reddit user posted. “NOTHING EVER HAPPENS HERE. WHY IS THIS HERE”.

Eroda had analog presence, too. A4 pamphlets – the kind of thing one could make on MS Publisher circa 1998 – appeared in the freesheet boxes on the pavements of Manhattan. At a promo event in Paris, Harry was asked about Eroda by a fan. He remained silent, but those who were there claim he “made a face”.

By November 29, more evidence arrived. A short film “advert”, which used footage from the trailer released on Monday, was screened by a new Harry Styles fan account from “Eroda”. They said the film appeared in a cinema in Kinlochbervie, on Scotland’s northern coast; the Eroda account then started to tweet about cinema screening times. Eagle-eyed fans were swift to post screengrabs, showing similar island formations in the background of both the Eroda advert and that featuring Styles. The two were linked.

Kinlochbervie was, fittingly, a bit of a red herring: the footage shown in both the advert and the video trailer was actually taken in St Abbs, a picturesque fishing village in Berwickshire that’s no stranger to a rolling camera – it was “twinned” with New Asgard after being used as a location for Thor’s new home in Avengers Endgame.

Styles was there in August, shooting, it appears, a few things for the forthcoming album campaign. He and his crew used Angela Morris’s cottage, in St Abbs’ Sea View Terrace, as a green room during the three days of filming in the village, after Morris had responded to a note being popped through the door from a filming company. “One Thursday I was just coming home from work and there was Harry walking into the house,” she tells me. “All of the costumes were in the living room, make-up was going on in the kitchen.

“I asked if I could wait in the garden before my husband and I went out for the evening, so I just sat there when Harry came out,” Morris said. “I think he was having a coffee, and he sat down and chatted, asked me about bits and pieces about the village. I was talking to him about his Gucci clothes and we had a bit of a laugh. I wasn’t too starstruck, really, and I think he appreciated that.” Later on in the shoot, Styles invited Morris and her husband to share a glass of champagne with him and the crew.

While the shoot interrupted the sleepy pace of life on St Abbs for a few days – Morris says that visitor numbers had already been boosted by Avengers Endgame but small crowds of teenage girls began to crop up after word spread of Harry’s location – most villagers, she reckons, are pleased to see the place put on the map: “Most people I saw were embracing it and interested to see what was going on.”

A German artist named Mario Klingemann was, however, more incensed when his holiday collided with the shoot: “I didn't know who Harry Styles was until today when I learned that he's the guy who blocked off the entire St Abbs harbour and prevented us from enjoying our fresh crab rolls," he posted on Twitter, aggrieved.

But Morris found out about Eroda much like everybody else – through Facebook. “It’s really odd,” she assess. “Lovely footage of beautiful St Abbs, though.”

Long-lens pap shots from that shoot certainly seem to match up with what we’ve seen of Eroda so far. Styles gangles around in Seventies suits, befitting the aesthetic of his trailer. The smoking gun, though, is the presence of a young woman with hair that brings to mind a Dr Seuss illustration, or the hat Princess Beatrice wore at the Cambridges’ wedding. VisitEroda’s “about” page explains: “The primary occupation in Eroda is fishing, however, the island’s art scene has recently started to develop. In particular, Erodean hairstyles have become a rather bold expression of self amongst the island’s youth”. Clearly, these are scenes of Eroda that are being filmed.

There’s an unmistakably ominous air to Eroda, and some believe the video for Adore You will see some misfortune befall Styles – there were reports of a (fake) gunshot being filmed in St Abbs while he was there.

But what happens next is arguably less intriguing than what we’ve been given with Eroda so far. We are well-used to being nudged and prodded by pop stars ahead of a new release. Major albums aren’t so much brought out as “dropped” or “leaked”, arriving online in the middle of the night before their fans disseminate them through the internet. Fans, rather than critics, are given early listens – and under tight NDAs. Artists will clear their channels to mark a new direction, only to give us elaborate photoshoots and contrived poetry to create a “concept”.

Eroda is undeniably a “concept” – themes of loneliness, peculiarity, conformity and happiness have been woven into the fictional island from the off. But it’s been artfully done; look deep enough into the Reddit forums and you’ll see non-Styles fans begrudgingly accepting that this is the work of a former boy band frontman, rather than that of a somehow more “serious” game creator, filmmaker or even musician. Furthermore, it’s fun – and that’s all too rare in a pop world where things have become obsessed with authenticity, and a rogue comment can result in “cancellation”. One Directioner popped up on a thread only to add, “As someone who works in marketing/promotion... This is fucking genius. Harry Styles' team is tops”, and it’s difficult to disagree.

After a decade in which stars have had to up their social media presence to survive, tweaking and teasing their listenership in ever-increasing desperation to retain shrinking attention spans, Styles is closing out the 2010s with the greatest album campaign we’ve seen so far. As an artistic statement, it suggests the 2020s will be his to claim.

#harry styles #eroda #press #the telegraph #dec2019 #long post

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weekendwarriorblog · 3 years

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The Weekend Warrior Christmas - New Year’s Edition – WONDER WOMAN 1984, NEWS OF THE WORLD, PROMISING YOUNG WOMAN, ONE NIGHT IN MIAMI..., PIECES OF A WOMAN, HERSELF, SYLVIE’S LOVE and More!

Welcome to the VERY LAST Weekend Warrior of the WORST YEAR EVER!!! But hopefully not the last column forever, even though I already plan on taking much of January off from writing 8 to 10 reviews each week. It just got to be too much for a while there.

Because it’s the last week of the year, there are a lot of really good movies, some in theaters but also quite a few on streaming services. In fact, there are a good number of movies that appeared in my Top 10 for the yearover at Below the Line, as well as my extended Top 25 that I’ll share on this blog sometime next week. I was half-hoping to maybe write something about the box office prospects of some of the new movies, but after the last couple weeks, it’s obvious that box office is not something that will be something worth writing about until sometime next spring or summer.

(This column is brought to you by Paul McCartney’s new album “McCartney III” which I’m listening to as I finish this up… and then other solo Beatles ditties picked for me randomly by Tidal.)

First up is easily one of the most anticipated movies of the year, or at least one that actually didn’t move to 2021, and that’s WONDER WOMAN 1984 (Warner Bros.), Patty Jenkins’ sequel to the 2017 hit, once again starring Gal Gadot as Diana Prince. I reviewed it here, but basically the sequel introduces Wonder Woman arch-nemeses Barbara Minerva aka Cheetah, as played by Kristen Wiig, and Pedro Pascal’s Max Lord and how an ancient artifact gives them both their powers, as well as helps to bring Diana’s true love Steve Trevor (Chris Pine) back despite him having disappeared presumed dead in WWI. As you can see by reading my review, I thought it was just fine, not great and certainly not something I’d make an attempt to see a second time in a 25% capacity movie theater. Fortunately, besides debuting in around 2,100 movie theaters across the nation, it will also be on HBO Max day and date, which has caused quite a stir. Being Christmas weekend with no work/school on Monday, I can see it still making somewhere between $10 and 12 million, but I can’t imagine it doing nearly what it might have done with most theaters only 25-30% full at the maximum and that theater count being roughly half the number it might have gotten during the “normal times.”

Paul Greengrass’ Western NEWS OF THE WORLD (Universal) reteams him with his Captain Phillips star Tom Hanks, this time playing Captain Jefferson Kidd, a Civil War soldier who travels from town to town in the Old West reading from newspapers to anyone who has a dime and time to listen. After one such reading, he discovers a young girl (Helena Zengel) on her own, having spent the last few years with a family of Native Americans who were killed by soldiers. Together, they travel across America as Kidd hopes to bring the girl to her last surviving family members.

I already reviewed Greengrass’ movie for Below the Line, and I also spoke to Mr. Greengrass, an interview you can read that right here (once it goes live), but I make no bones that this was one of my favorite movies I’ve seen this year, and it’s not just due to the fine work by Greengrass and his team. No, it’s just as much about the emotion inherent in the story, and the relationship between the characters played by Hanks and Zengel.

I’ve watched the movie three times now, and I’m still blown away by every frame and moment, the tension that’s created on this difficult journey but also where it leaves the viewers at the end that promises that there can be hope and joy even in the most difficult and turbulent times. It’s a wonderful message that’s truly needed right now.

Listen, I’m not gonna recommend going to a movie theater if you don’t feel it’s safe – I’ve already spoken my peace on this at a time when COVID numbers were much lower – but this is a movie that I personally can’t wait to see in a movie theater. I honestly can’t see the movie making more than $3 or 4 million in the open theaters considering how few people are willing to go to movie theaters. Obviously, this isn’t as big a draw as Wonder Woman, but it is a fantastic big screen movie regardless.

Also opening in theaters this Friday is Emerald Fennell’s directorial debut PROMISING YOUNG WOMAN (Focus Features), starring the wonderful Oscar-nominated Carey Mulligan as Cassie Thomas, a woman who has revenge on her mind. Cassie spends her nights picking up guys in bars by pretending she’s so drunk she can barely walk, then humiliating them and presumably worse. When she encounters an acquaintance from med school in the form of Bo Burnham’s Ryan, the two begin dating, though he ends up awakening a darker side to Cassie that seeks revenge for something that happened back during their school days. (Honestly, if you’re already sold, just skip to the next movie. That’s all I want you to know before watching it.)

I was ready to love Fennell’s movie when it opened with a disgusting shot of gross stock market bros in loose-fitting suits gyrating in slow motion before one of them tries to pick up a totally soused Cassie at the club. It’s a scene that really plays itself out quite well, and then leads into Mulligan’s character allowing another clear scumbag (played by Christopher Mintz-Plasse, maybe as a slight-older McLovin?) before turning the tables on him as well.

There’s going to be a lot of talk about this movie after people see it, since it’s one of those great films that begins a lot of conversations. I imagine most women of a certain age will love it, but some men might see themselves in some of the characters (even Burnham’s) and wonder whether Cassie just won’t take crap from any man or if she’s a full-on misandrist. One thing we do know a lot is that she does this sort of thing a lot, and there’s something from her past that has driven her involving something that happened to her female friend in med school. I’m going to stop talking about the plot here, because I definitely don’t want to spoil anything who hasn’t seen the movie, but the second half of the movie is as deeply satisfying as Tarantino’s Kill Bill in terms of the surprises.

You’ll realize while watching what a treat you’re in for when you first watch Mulligan’s amazing transformation from pretending to be drunk to being completely cognizant and just all the emotions we see her go through after that. Of course, we never really know what she’s actually doing to the guys she lets pick her up -- she keeps a notebook with guy’s names and a quizzical counting system, so we can only imagine.

Fennell’s screenplay is fantastic but her work as a first-time director in maintaining the the tone and pacing of the movie is really what will keep you captivated, whether it’s the amazing musical choices or how Cassie dresses up to lure men. There’s also a great cast around Mulligan whether it’s comic Burnham in a relatively more serious role, but one that also allows him a musical number. (No joke.) Fennel’s amazing casting doesn’t just stop there from, Jennifer Coolidge as Cassie’s mother to Laverne Cox as Gail, her workmate/boss at the coffee shop – both of them add to the film’s subtle humor elements. Alfred Molina shows up to give a show-stopping performance, and Alison Brie also plays a more dramatic role as another one of Cassie’s classmates. I can totally understand why the Golden Globes might have deemed the movie a “comedy/musical” (for about two days before going back) , but putting so many funny people in dramatic roles helps give Promising Young Woman its own darkly humorous feel. All that darkness is contrasted by this sweet romance between Cassie and Ryan that’s always in danger of imploding due to Cassie’s troubled nature.

The biggest shocking surprise is saved for the third act, and boy, it’s going to be one that people will be talking about for a VERY long time, because it’s just one gut punch after another. I loved this movie, as it’s just absolutely brilliant – go back and see where it landed in my Top 10. As one of the best thrillers from the past decade, people will be talking about this for a very long time

Promising Young Woman hits theaters on Christmas Day, and presumably, it will be available on VOD sometime in January, but this is not one you want to wait on. If you do go see it in theaters, just be safe, please. No making out with random men or women, please.

Regina King’s narrative feature debut, ONE NIGHT IN MIAMI... (Amazon Studios), will ALSO be in theaters on Christmas Day, and though I’ve reviewed it over at Below the Line, but I’ll talk a little more about it here just for my loyal Weekend Warrior readers.

Yet another movie that made my Top 10, this one stars a brilliant quartet of actors -- Kingsley Ben-Adir, Leslie Odom Jr., Aldis Hodge and Eli Goree—as four legendary black icons: Malcolm X, Sam Cooke, Jim Brown and Cassius Clay, on the night after the last of them wins the World Boxing Championship against Sonny Liston in February 1964. The four men meet in Malcolm X’s hotel room to discuss what’s happening in their lives and the world in general, as well as Clay’s decision to join the Nation of Islam, just as Malcolm X is getting ready to leave the brotherhood due to philosophical differences with the group. In fact, all four men have philosophical differences that are discussed both in good humor and in deep conflict as they disagree on their place in a white-dominated world in a year before the Civil Rights Act would be signed.

First of all, there’s no way to talk about this movie without discussing the Kemp Powers play on which it’s based, and we can’t mention that without mentioning that Powers also co-wrote and co-directed Pixar’s Soul, which will be available on Disney+ this Friday. It’s a fantastic script and King put together a fantastic cast of actors who really give their all to every scene. In the case of Leslie Odom, Jr., you really can believe him as Cooke, especially in a number of fantastic performances pieces. Likewise, Goree looks a lot like Clay both in the ring and out, carrying all of the swagger for which he would become more famous as Ali.

I’ve seen the movie twice already and if you’ve looked at my Top 10, then you already know this is another one that made my cut, so I don’t think I need to give it a much harder sell. I’m sure you’ll be hearing a lot about this one on its journey to Oscar night when hopefully, King becomes the first woman of color to be nominated in the directing category. Or rather, she’ll probably tie for that honor with Nomadland director Chloé Zhao.

If you don’t feel like going to theaters for this one, you’ll be able to catch it on Amazon Prime Video on January 15, too… you’ll just have to wait a little longer.

Also, the new Pixar animation movie, SOUL, directed by Pete Docter (Up, Inside Out) and co-directed by Kemp Powers (remember him?), will hit Disney+ on Christmas Day, and I reviewed it here, so I probably don’t have lot more to say about it, but it’s great, and if you have Disney+, I’m sure you’ll be watching it.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t get a screener for Matteo Garrone’s PINNOCHIO (Roadside Attractions), which also opens in about 700 theaters on Christmas Day. This adaptation stars Robert Benigni as Geppeto, who famously starred as Pinocchio in his own version of the classic fairy tale from 2002. That other movie was “Weinsteined” at a time when that just meant that a movie was ruined by Harvey Weinstein’s meddling, rather than anything involving sexual assault.

Another great movie hitting streaming this week is Eugene Ashe’s SYLVIE’S LOVE, which streams on Amazon Prime Video today. It stars Tessa Thompson as Sylvie and Nnamdi Asomugha (also a producer on the film) as Robert, who meet one summer in the late 50s while working at Sylvie’s father’s record store. He is a jazz musician who is on the rise, but their romance is cut short when he gets a gig in Paris but she refuses to go with him. Also, she’s pregnant with his child. Years later, they reconnect with her now being married with a young daughter (clearly Robert’s) and they realize that the love between them is still very real and true.

This is the first of three movies I watched this week where I went in with very little knowledge and absolute zero expectations. Like everyone else on earth, I am an avid fan of Ms. Thompson’s work both in movies like Thor: Ragnarok and smaller indies. She’s just a fantastic presence that lights up a screen. While I wasn’t as familiar with Asomugha’s acting work – he’s produced some great films and acted in a few I liked, included Crown Heights – there’s no denying the chemistry between the two.

What’s kind of interesting about the movie is that it combines a few elements from other great movies released this week, including Soul and A Night in Miami, but in my opinion, handles the music business aspect to the story better than the much-lauded Netflix movie, Ma Raimey’s Black Bottom. Frankly, I also think the performances by the two leads are as good as those by Boseman and Davis in that movie, but unfortunately, Amazon is submitting this to the Emmys as as “TV movie” rather than to the Oscars, so that’s kind of a shame.

This is a movie that’s a little hard to discuss why I enjoyed it so much without talking about certain scenes or moments, or just go through the entire story, but I think part of the joy of appreciating what Ashe has done in his second original feature film is to tell the story of these two characters over the course of a decade or so in a way that hasn’t been done before. That alone is quite an achievement, because we’ve seen many of those types of movies over the years (When Harry Met Sally, for instance).

What I really liked about Sylvie’s Love over some of the other “black movies” this year is that it literally creates its own world and just deals with the characters within it, rather than trying to make a big statement about the world at the time. Maybe you can say the same about Soul in that sense, but you would be absolutely amazed by how much bigger an audience you can get by telling a grounded story in a relatable world, and then throw in a bit of music, as both those movies do.

So that’s all I’ll say except that this will is now on Amazon Prime Video , so you have no excuse not to check it out while you wait for Regina King’s equally great One Night in Miami to join it in mid-January.

Hitting Netflix on Christmas day is Robert Rodriguez’s WE CAN BE HEROES, his sequel to his 2005 family film The Adventures of Shark Boy and Lava Girl – not his best moment -- which follows the kids of the Heroics, a Justice League-like super group. They’re all in a special school for kids with powers but they have to step up when the Heroics are captured by aliens. Want to know what will happen? Well, you’ll just have to wait for Christmas Day for when my review drops to find out whether I liked it more or less than Rodriguez’s earlier film which SPOILER!! I hated.)

The first thing you need to get past is that Shark Boy and Lava Girl are now man and wife, and just that fact might be tough for anyone who only discovered the movie sometime more recently. There are other familiar faces in the Heroics like Pedro Pascal, Sung Kang, Christian Slater, Priyanka Chopra Jonas and more, so clearly, Rodriguez is still able to pull together a cast.

The movie actually focuses on YaYa Goselin’s Missy Moreno, daughter of the Heroic’s leader (Pascal) who has also retired. Just as aliens are invading the earth, Missy is put into a school of kids with superpowers, all kids of various Heroic members. Sure, it’s derived directly from The X-Men and/or Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, so yeah… basically also the X-Men. We meet all of the kids in a great scene where we see them using their powers and learn their personalities, and honestly, they really are the best part of the movie.Probably the most adorable is Guppy, the very young daughter of Shark Boy and Lava Girl, played by Viven Blair. Oddly, Missy doesn’t have any powers so she feels a bit fish-out-of-water in the group even though, like her father, she proves to be a good leader.

As much as I really detested Rodriguez’s Shark Boy and Lava Girl movie, I feel like he does a lot better by having a variety of kids in this one, basically something for everyone, but also not a bad group of child actors. (There’s also a fun role for Adriana Barraza.) There are definitely aspects that are silly, but Rodriguez never loses sight of his audience, and wisely, Netflix is offering this as a Christmas Day release which should be fun for families with younger kids who might see this as their first superhero movie.

More discerning viewers may not be particularly crazy about visual FX, all done as usual in Rodriguez’s own studio but some of them look particularly hoaky and cheap compared to others. (I mean, that’s probably the appeal for hiring Rodriguez because he’s able to do so much in-house. In this case, he got all four of his own kids involved in various capacities of making the film.)

We Can Be Heroes is clearly a movie made for kids, so anyone expecting anything on part with Amazon’s The Boys will be quite disappointed. It’s probably Rodriguez getting slightly closer to Spy Kids than he has with any of his other family-friendly movies, but one shouldn’t go in with the expectations that come with any of the much bigger blockbusters released these days. Personally, I enjoyed that fact, and I totally would watch another movie with this superteam.

Michel Stasko’s BOYS VS. GIRLS (Gravitas Ventures) is a fun retro-comedy that follows a war between the male and female counselors at Camp Kindlewood, which has just gone co-ed. At the center of it all is Dale (Eric Osborne) and Amber (Rachel Dagenais) as two teens who are in the middle of a meet-cute romance in the middle of a inter-gender competition called “Lumberman vs. Voyagers,” which I have no idea whether it’s a real thing or not.

I probably should have known I’d like this one from the catchy New Order-ish song in the opening credits, but listen, Wet Hot American Summer is one of my all-time favorite movies, and that was basically made to satirize ‘80s movies like Meatballs. This one falls more towards to the latter in terms of humor, but it also feels authentic to the ‘80s summer camp experience.

It helps that the grown-ups at the camp are played by the likes of Kevin McDonald from New Kids on the Block, Colin Mochrie from Whose Line is It Anyway and others, but it’s really about the younger cast playing teen boys and girls in the throes of puberty, something we all can in some way relate to. The young cast play a series of stereotypical young but there are a lot of funny tropes within them, as each of the cast is given a chance to deliver some of the funnier gags. This isn’t necessarily high-brow humor, mind you, but I love the fact that you can still make a movie about a time where you could still make fun of girl’s periods in school. (I’m kidding. I just put that in there cause I feel like I need to throw things like that into this column just to see if anyone is ACTUALLY reading it.)

The presumably Canadian Stasko is another great example of an independently-spirited filmmaker who has an idea for a fun movie and then just goes about making it, regardless of having big stars or anything to sell it besides many funny moments that can be featured a trailer, so that those who like this kind of movie will find it. Listen, Wet Hot American Summer wasn’t a huge hit when it was released. I still remember it having trouble getting a single screening at the multiplex in Times Square when it was released but over the years since it became sort of a cult hit (kind of due to Netflix having it to rent on DVD, I think).

Besides a fun script and cast, Stasko also find a way to include tunes that sound so much like real ‘80s songs we would have heard on the radio but aren’t quite the big hits that would have cost him thousands of dollars, but I really just enjoyed the heck out of the tone and overall fun attitude that went into making this movie.

Also on VOD now is Ian Cheney and Martha Shane’s fascinating and funny doc, THE EMOJI STORY (Utopia), which I saw at the Tribeca Film Festival when it was called “Picture Character.” (That’s what “emoji” in Japanese means, just FYI.) As you can guess it’s about the origins and rise of the emoji as a form of communication from its humble beginning in Japan to becoming one of the biggest trending crazes on the globe. I’m not that big an Emoji guy myself – I tend to use the thumbs up just for ease, but I do marvel at those who can put together full thoughts using a string of these symbols, and if you want to know more about them, this is the movie you should watch.

Now let’s cut ahead to some of the movies that will be opening and streaming NEXT week…

Hitting select theaters on Wednesday, December 30 and what really is my “FEATURED FLICK” for this column is Hungarian filmmaker Kornél (White God) Mundruczó’s PIECES OF A WOMAN (Netflix) before its streaming premiere on Netflix January 7.

Written by Kata Wéber, who also wrote Mundruczó’s earlier film, it stars Vanessa Kirby (The Crown) and Shia Labeouf as Martha and Sean Weiss, a Boston couple who lose their baby during a particularly difficult home birth and follows the next year in their lives and how that tragic loss affects their relationship with each other and those around them.

As you can imagine, Pieces of a Woman is a pretty heavy drama, one that reminded me of the films of Todd Field (Little Children, In the Bedroom) in terms of the intensity of the drama and the emotions on screen from the brilliant cast Mundruczó put together for his English language debut. I’m not sure I could use the general plot to sell anyone on seeing this because it is very likely the worst possible date movie of the year after Netflix’s 2019 release, Marriage Story, but it’s just as good in terms of the writing and performances.

At the center of it is Kirby – and yeah, I still haven’t watched The Crown, so shut up! I’ll get to it!!! – who most of us fell in love with for her role in Mission: Impossible - Fallout, but what we see her go through as an actress here really shows the degree of her abilities. But it also shows what Mundruczó can do with material that (like many movies) started out as a play. For instance, one of the first big jaw-dropping moments is the home birth scene that goes on for a long time, seemingly all in one shot, and Kirby is so believable in terms of a woman going through a difficult birth, you’d believe she has had children herself. (She hasn’t.) I also don’t want to throw Shia Labeouf under the bus right now just because that seems like the trendy thing to do. (Without getting it, I believe FKA Twigs… but that doesn’t deny the fact that Labeouf is just the latest great actor that everyone wants to cancel.)

Anyway, to change the subject, we have to talk about Ellen Burstyn, who plays Martha’s meddling mother, who is quite clingy and overbearing, so when the couple lose their baby, she steps in to take to task the midwife she deems responsible (played by the highly-underrated Molly Parker). Or rather, she hires a family lawyer (Sarah Snook) to take her to court to get compensation for the loss of her daughter’s baby. The film’s last act culminates as their case goes to court.

Again, the film covers roughly a year after the tragedy and deals not only with how Martha and Sean’s relationship is affected and how it emotionally affects Martha in particular, but also how others around them start behaving towards them. It feels so authentic and real that you wonder where the screenwriter was drawing from, but Mundruczó has more than prove himself as as filmmaker by creating something that is visually compelling and even artsy while still doing everything to help promote the story and performances over his own abilities as a director. Doesn’t hurt that he has composer Howard Shore scoring the film in a way that’s subtle but effective.

Listen, if you’re looking for a comedy riot that will entertain you with funny one-liners and pratfalls than Pieces of a Woman is not for you. This is a devastating movie that really throws the viewer down a deep spiral along with its characters. The first time I watched it, I was left quite broken, and maybe even more so on second viewing. (As we get closer to Oscar season… in four months … I hope this film will be recognized and not just thrown under the table due to Labeouf’s involvement. That would be as big a tragedy and misjustice as much of what happens in the movie.)

So yeah, in case you wondered why this also made it into my prestigious Top 10 for the year, that is why. :)

Also in theaters on Wednesday, December 30 is another terrific drama, the Phyllida Lloyd-directed HERSELF (Amazon Studios), co-written and starring Clare Dunne, as Sandra, a mother of two young girls, trying to get out of an abusive marriage, while making ends meet and providing shelter for her kids. One day, she learns about a way that she can build her own home, and one of the women she cares for offers a plot of land

Another movie that I really didn’t know much about going into, other than Phyllida Lloyd being a talented filmmaker whose movie The Iron Maiden, which won Meryl Streep her 500th Oscar, I enjoyed much more than the popular blockbuster hit musical, Mamma Mia! This is a far more personal story that reminded me of Ken Loach’s I, Daniel Blake, a smaller and more intimate character piece that shines a light on British actor Clare Dunne, who as with some of the best and most personal movie projects, co-wrote this screenplay for herself to act in.

There are aspects to the film that reminds me of many other quaint Britcoms in terms of creating a story where one person’s challenge is taken up by others who are willing to help, and in this case, it’s Sandra’s desire to build a house for her two quite adorable daughters while also trying to keep it secret from her abusive ex.

Dunne’s performance isn’t as showy as some of the other dramatic performances mentioned in this very column, but she and Lloyd do a fine job creating an authenticity that really makes you believe and push for her character, Sandra, surrounding her with characters who can help keep the movie on the lighter side despite very serious nature of spousal abuse (which also rears its ugly head in Pieces of a Woman). Oh, and don’t get too comfortable, because this, too, leads to an absolutely shocking and devastating climax you won’t see coming. (Well, now you will… but you’ll still be shocked. Trust me.)

Still, it’s a really nice movie with the house being built clearly a metaphor. I know there’s a lot of truly fantastic movies discussed in this week’s column but don’t let this wonderful British drama pass you by, because you can tell it’s a labor of love for everyone who made it.

Herself will be in theaters for roughly a week starting December 30 before streaming on Prime Video on January 8.

In select theaters and on VOD on New Year’s Day is Roseanne Liang’s WWII thriller SHADOW IN THE CLOUD (Vertical/Redbox Entertainment), starring Chloë Grace Moretz as Flight Officer Maude Garrett, who is assigned to deliver a top-secret package on the B-17 bomber “The Fool’s Errand” with an all-male crew that throws her into a turret “for her own safety.” She ends up getting trapped down there as the plane is attacked by a creature that no one believes is out there, as they fight back against the unseen enemy, many secrets are revealed.

This is yet another movie I didn’t know that much about other than it has Moretz on an airplane, but there’s so much about the movie that both had me scratching my head but also has me quite deliriously amused that filmmakers could get away with some of the craziness that we witness. Maybe it’s not a surprise that the movie was co-written by Max Landis -- not exactly the most beloved screenwriter in Hollywood these days, and certainly not a critical favorite.

Again I really didn’t know what to expect so after Moretz’s character gets on the plane and is trapped in the turret under the plane, I thought that maybe I was seeing something similar to the one-location thriller 7500, starring Joseph Gordon-Levitt, which I wasn’t too big a fan of even though the actor was good. Moretz continues to be quite a phenomenal actor, but the mix of Mahuia Bridgman-Cooper’s music, which borrows as much from Soulwax (look ‘em up on Spotify) as John Carpenter, and the sexist attitude by the male crew towards Garrett made me unsure of what the movie was meant to say.

Much of the movie just has Moretz on her own with the men’s voices over the comms, which is not something that could possibly sustain a whole movie. Part of it is borrowed from a very well-known episode of “The Twilight Zone,” in fact.

but fortunately, it breaks from out of that deceit but then just starts getting crazier and crazier. I’m not even gonna tell you about what happens or what’s in the box Garrett is carrying or where things go, because honestly, I don’t think you would believe me.

I haven’t seen any of Ms. Liang’s previous films but when you realize how much crazy stuff she’s able to get way with, I’ll be really interested what she does next. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen any movie that’s quite as crazy as Shadow in the Cloud or one that makes me want to watch it again for that very reason.

Oscar-winning Icarus director Bryan Fogel’s doc THE DISSIDENT (Briarcliff), which opens in theaters Friday then will be On Demand January 8, follows the horrific assassination of Washington Post journalist Jamal Khashoggi in Turkey in September 2018, thought to be the work of the Saudi kingdom and Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman aka MBS.

I’m really fascinated by movies like this one and Ryan White’s recent Assassins – both which could be in the Best Documentary race at the Oscars in April, by the detective and investigative work done by both filmmakers to get to the bottom of murders that shouldn’t be possible and find those that are responsible. I’ll admit that I didn’t really pay much attention to this story when it was happening a few years back, so I don’t know how much of the details are new and exclusive to Fogel’s doc. He does get access to Kashouggi’s fiancé Hatice who had gone with Jamal to the Saudi embassy in Turkey to get proof that he was single and could marry when he vanished for days and then turne up dead.

Fogel also meets with another Saudi dissident now living in Quebec who goes through the events that led up to Kashouggi’s murder that involved a social media campaign against the journalist within a country where 80% of the population is on Twitter (!).

This is another fascinating doc by Fogel that I’m sure some will be more interested in due to its subject, but when it comes to investigative pieces that really take a deep dive into news from the headlines, Fogel has created another unforgettable doc. (Also, it was absolutely little surprise to me that Fogel’s film is co-written by Mark Monroe, who has been involved with some of the best docs I’ve seen over the past 15 years or so… just look up his IMDB credits!)

Opening at the Film Forum Virtual Cinema in New York for a one-week qualifying run is Russia’s movie for Oscar consideration, Andrei Kochalovsky’s DEAR COMRADES! (NEON), a black and white dark dramedy set in 1960s Kruschchev-era Russia. It involves a strike by locomotive workers when the government raises food prices, leading to chaos and a massacre that leaves a Communist party loyalist, Lyuda (played by Julia Vysotskaya) who the film then follows. Unfortunately, I had a choice of either writing this column or watching this two-hour movie. I opted for the former (obviously) but I do hope to get to this later in the week and should be adding more on this movie once I do.

Also streaming in Film Forum’s Virtual Cinema starting next Wednesday, December 30, is Mario Monicelli’s 1960 film, The Passionate Thief.

Unfortunately, I also wasn’t able to get to Two Ways Home (Gravitas Ventures), In Corpore or Fire Will Come, which will open in Metrograph’s digital ticketing system.

Metrograph will also continue showing Tsia Ming-Liang’s Goodbye, Dragon Inn, Fruit Chan’s Made in Hong Kong, and lots of great programming over the holidays. It would be a great time to get yourself or a loved one a digital membership for just $50! (James Gray is also programming some of his own films like Little Odesssa and other favorites, like Richard Quine’s Strangers When We Meet, over the holidays.)

By the way, if you read this week’s column and have bothered to read this far down, feel free to drop me some thoughts at Edward dot Douglas at Gmail dot Com or drop me a note or tweet on Twitter. I love hearing from readers … honest!

#TheWeekendWarrior #Movies #Reviews #WonderWoman84 #OneNightInMiami #NewsOfTheWOrld #PromisingYoungWoman #PiecesOfAWoman #SylviesLove Herself TomHanks

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bentenharuki · 4 years

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I generally don’t do these but...

I will do this because it’s a badge of honor and a thank you for @todayintokyo who gives me a daily vibe out of my second fav Country in the world (first one is my own, of course. My messy, chaotic, genius Italy).

So for everyone interested (I won’t tag people either... if you are among my 250+ readers, do it as freely as you like to share this unexpected hard time along others. Sharing makes us all feel less stranded I guess :))

1. Are you staying home from work/school? Yep. My University (Milano Bicocca) holds in-house lessons and curses and also exams and testing are/will be online. What I miss most are the lab works and the exchanges with foreign schools. I took one a few months ago in London and I was supposed to have another in May but... NOPE, of course.

2. If you’re staying home, who’s there with you? I am alone in my apartment. At first it was supposed to be shared rent with somebody else but then my parents just bought this out and lent it to me. I know. I am spoiled. But very grateful for what I have. I always try to give back the best I can because no one has merits in being born in a family instead of another. (pieces of second-rate philosophy in all my LONG answers courtesy of my mum and her influence on me. She’s a University Professor and her field is.. guess what.. ETHICS PHILOSOPHY)

3. Do you have pets to keep you company? Nope. Not allowed. But I like cats. Cats. CATS. They are elegant, refined, very clean, and they give you consideration and affection ONLY if they like you. I prefer to conquer somebody’s love instead than to have it by default. Then I am naturally a cat person instead of a dog’s. But I like all animals (I like snakes as well, so my range is pretty wide ;)), even though I don’t feel missing any in house. Generally I would be out of home most of the day and no pet would be happy in staying that much alone. I miss my grandparents’ kitty tho :)

4. Who do you miss the most? Family. Friends. Meeting new people when out. And... (is it fine to say it?) Well... in these lockdown times I miss... human touch. (You get what kind). I was seeing a guy when this all started and my old boyf also came back into the picture somehow. All on hold. And I avoid to think how that makes me feel because even in case I’d figure it out, what comes if one can’t act on the awareness? Exactly. So I put it all in a LONG pause. But yeah... I miss contacts. A LOT.

5. When was the last time you left your home? I go out every Thursday to buy all my grocery stuff. I am very methodic. My supermarket is pretty near and it’s BIG and I get there right before it opens (well... one hour almost before it opens, so I can be among the firsts in line). I look like a ninja: very sporty and technically dressed (like for a running competition!) with clothes and shoes which are easy washable, tech mask (it is for cycling competition, with filters specifically medical: the mask is washable as well after you’ve used it, while the filter is obviously not), cotton fit gloves and over them medical gloves (I can’t wear directly medical gloves because my skin is very sensitive and I suffer from nickel allergia, which makes latex gloves a NO NO directly on skin), teck googles which cover also the side of my face (those are from cycling items too) and of course PODS in my ear because I can’t live without music :)

6. What was the last thing you bought? I bought online a few garden tools for my biggest balcony. I have ZERO skill with plants (and I am supposed to become a biologist... the nerve! LOL) but I am keen at making grow at least rosemery for my recipes. I have a little peach tree and it is all fine so far. I have hope I can do better and anyway I have time now ;)

7. Is quarantine driving you insane or are you finally relaxed? I try to keep my routine as it was before. I wake up and perform all my tasks exactly as I was doing before this all started. I am VERY organized and to lax on that would ruin me, so I carefully focus on what I can control the best I can. It feels strange to say it maybe but... this way my mood isn’t particularly affected by this heavy revolution in my (and everyone elses’s) life.

8. Are you a homebody? NOPE. I love people, I love my Milan and its being always full of people everywhere. I love living in my town a TON, I love meeting friends anywhere, go dancing, I love to live my University life in this beautiful and renewed part of Milan; I like being surrounded by my people and meeting new ones. So being stuck at home would seem insufferable for me. But I learnt from this (there’s always something to learn in any experience) that I can be surprisingly ok with staying home too. I came to know better my neighbors. I feel a sense of community with everyone living nearby and I have come to love my domesticity too. It was a surprise for me first ^.^

9. What movies have you watched recently? In Italy, Italia 1 channel has had the WONDERFUL idea to rebroadcast all Harry Potter saga every Monday and Thursday. Today and tomorrow there are the last two installments, so I can say that is what I looked out the most for as in movie things these past weeks (funny how I never particularly adored the books of HP, I mean, I liked them but... being a Tolkien’s devotee Rowlings’ literary efforts always seemed lackluster to me.. and still I have always liked the movies. It’s incoherent I know ;)). But I have Sky at home so I can watch whatever movie I like to whenever I want to. And that leads to VERY little watch actually. I am reading a ton though. I watch what passes on in the National channels actually, out of digital and cable and decide to watch it or not. For instance last Friday Rai 1 (main Italian Channel) broadcasted one of my fav movies from the past three years, GIFTED (with Chris Evans and Octavia Spencer) and I rewatched it with immense pleasure.

10. An event that you were looking forward to that got cancelled? OLYMPICS. I was supposed to be back in Japan with a a couple of friends and my bro for experience the Olympics (especially the volleyball tournaments) between July and August and that got (of course) cancelled. We plan to move it all to next year of course. But it hurts SO MUCH because it was easily what I was looking forward to BEST for all 2020. Hands down.

11. What’s the best and worst thing you’ve had to cancel? Look up. For the other question, I never plan things I don’t like (or at least I try my best not to) and I almost never find myself in the position of being happy for something I had going on which I had to pass due to circumstances. I am a very honest (sometimes to the point of bluntness, though with age I got trained in the fine art of diplomacy, which for me is declined especially in the “IGNORE WHAT IS NOT WORTHY degree) person and if there is something I don’t like I tend to not get involved with it in the first place.

12. Do you have any new hobbies? Eh... the longest list... I love so many things. Sport don’t count as hobbies to me because I treat them as part of my daily life constantly. So take them off. I like to write, to draw, to paint... I like reading, I like learning... I am a tech geek; I like gaming (but that I have to cut it or it would absorb me too much)... I like TRAVELING (that is cut off too of course nowadays), and many other things so I guess I don’t literally have SPACE for new hobbies. My many ones makes it impossible to fall for new things though lately I am becoming a better cook out of needs ;)

13. What are you out of? My lists are made as soon my things become “two items in from having 0″. This way I can’t run out of anything. Did I say already I am a HUGE control freak? THAT ;)

14. What music are you listening to? My itunes collections lists so far 12376 ALBUMS. Then I have the random songs. Latest one I bought (because I buy them all) is Achille Lauro’s latest 16 Marzo

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yb-9RESbeWA

I am also listening a lot to one of my bro’s fav bands Radiohead and as usual a lot to my beloved Imagine Dragons. My mum and dad are also telling me to listen to Bill Withers (who recently passed away) whole discography because he was amazing. I love many music genres. I love ALL which makes the spirit soar and rage and evolve and love and cry and hope.

15. What are you reading? So far in quarantine I read 5 books. I have now to start ORIGINS by Dan Brown. I pick the books I have left unread randomly and that was the pick this time (people gift me with books constantly because they know I am a bookworm when I have spare time).

16. What are you doing for self-care? Keep loving myself and life and the world exactly the way I used to before this all started.

17. Are you exercising? Yup. Tapis roulant, golf training, stepper (all in my house lucky me) and mat and weight training. I have a routine for which I have to train at least one hour a day. NO EXCEPTION. I miss swimming but I will do. I am also in recovery after January’s knee meniscus intervention so my schedules are also taking that into consideration.

18. How’s your toilet paper supply? I'm OK. :)

19. Have you made any changes to your hair during quarantine? Nope. I love to stylize my hair but I don’t have specific cuts. It grows long and then I play with them hairstyles: braids, buns, ponytails, partitions and the likes.. But I have bleached hair and I had to follow my hairdresser advice because I can’t allow ugly roots to take dominance of me ^.^ So I bought the necessary to self bleach them. No need to say as soon as I will be able to, Hairdressers and Massages and SPA will be my first destination ^.^ (beside visiting family and friends of course).

I am fairly sure I put lots of typos and mistakes in this but I have my online lesson just starting in 8 minutes and I can’t review this (I generally never do it anyway). So forgive me and have a beautiful day ;)

STAY SAFE OUT THERE!!! Hugs K.

#ask list #wow my first one #and probably my last #covid19 #quarantine #lockdown #italy #milan #tag your friends #coronavirus

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ephemeral-writings · 5 years

Text

Everything I Need // 02

oh sehun x reader

genre: angst

word count: 1.7k

Everything I Need // oh sehun teaches you a thing or two about life. but falling for the boy who lived across from you was not what you had anticipated.

Part 01 / Part 02 / Part 03 / Part 04 / Part 05

TL @snowflakesandkisses

You woke up at ten the next morning, stomach empty and begging to be filled. Your last meal was a protein bar and extra leftover fries from your co-worker, it was no wonder you were starving. Your mother would surely frown upon the poor excuse of a meal that was a bar and a bag of chips from the school’s vending machine.

It wasn’t too cold out, but you grabbed a jacket on your way out anyways. Down the street, at the corner of an intersection, was a cheap diner that you frequented, especially when you’ve yet to restock on groceries. What your mom never told you was how expensive it could be to fill the cupboards and fridge with food.

You ordered your usual, a sausage omelette with a hefty side of potatoes because you loved potatoes like it was your lover. As much as you ate at the diner, you hated being outside in general. As you played with your phone, you tried your best to ignore the gnawing loneliness that crept up. You drowned out the sounds of chatter as people of all ages shared a meal together, and you were mostly successful with food to distract you, but then they walked in.

The group was the same age as you, and you knew that because one out of three of them was your classmate. You prayed a silent prayer that they wouldn’t notice you. Kim Jongdae was a social butterfly, and despite you being anything but, he had never failed to flash you a smile and gave you a simple greeting whenever you bumped into each other.

“Oh, hey, Y/N,” Jongdae chirped as his friends walked by to sit in the booth behind you.

“Morning, Jongdae.” You hoped there wasn’t a piece of potato skin stuck in your teeth. Jongdae was a pretty good looking guy, just not your type and you most certainly weren’t his. He asked you about the paper that was due in two weeks time, whether you had started working on it or not, and of course you did. There wasn’t much in your life besides work to distract you.

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Jongdae rejoined his friends. You overheard one of them ask, “Who was that?”

“She’s in my econ class, we did a project together a while back.”

“Oh.”

They quickly dropped the subject, and you stopped listening.

Your phone stopped being entertaining when you’ve gone through your e-mails(mostly spam and school related). You never understood how people could stare at their devices for hours on end, two hours was enough to give you a headache. It was twelve by the time you left the diner. On the way back, you stopped by a market and picked up some essentials. You needed at least some source of food before re-stocking with your next paycheck which was due by the end of the next week. Eggs, bread, milk, ramyeon, and a new box of cereal would be more than enough to feed one girl.

You walked back to the apartment with all the items stuffed in one bag, except for the carton of eggs which you held. You decided to stop by the mailroom to check if you had any, which you did. Spam mails from your bank, credit cards ads, and a letter addressed from a correctional facility.

“Hey.”

You snapped your head in the direction of the voice calling your name. Sehun, standing a few feet away, was looking at you with a questioning look.

“You okay?”

You looked at him and back to the letter in your egg carton-free hand. What the hell was it even doing in your mailbox?

You nodded even though you could feel the blood draining from your face. “I’m fine. I gotta go, I’ll see you around. Bye.”

To say Sehun was surprised by how abruptly you had left would be an understatement. Your face had looked pale, but more than that, your hands were shaking as you locked up your mailbox.

As soon as you were in your apartment, you ripped open the envelope. The letter was creased and torn on a few edges and the writing wasn’t in any better condition. It had, after all, traveled all the way from a penitentiary miles and miles from here.

The day before your high school graduation, your father was incriminated for fraud. Unbeknownst to you and your mother, he had gambled away everything your family owned, including any little money left that was keeping your mother on chemo. In the end, the cancer wasn’t what killed your mother but your father, and for that, you never forgave him. After the funeral and sentencing, you packed everything you could carry and walked out of the empty home. So your father, whom you’ve lost contact with for three years now, how did he find out where’d you lived?

You thought you’d never be faced with the man who was the cause of all your sufferings, but somehow he’s managed to creep back in your life in the form of a letter. Like hell you were going to allow anything further than that. The letter tells you that he was sorry for his mistakes, that he’s repented, and wishes for nothing more than to make things right. His mistakes? They costed your mother’s life. Him realizing his mistakes now wasn’t going to bring her back. Repentment? According to the police, your father had been falsifying fake documents in order to cheat money from the government since before you were born. That was twenty plus years of coming clean of his sins, but of course he’s finally had time to reflect after being caught.

You heaved a few deep breaths, realizing the constriction in your chest. You tear the paper into shreds, until the words were no longer decipherable, much like the father figure in your life.

You brushed whatever tears that unwillingly escaped, and quietly prepared for work.

If it was one thing you could count on, it was work being the worst distraction possible. A bad start to the day just makes the shift that much harder to get through. Your boss lectures you for not properly garnishing dishes, in the middle of a goddamn dinner rush, and you accidentally burn your hand with hot soup in the middle of it all. Just the cherry on top of it all, a man then yells at you for not giving him his food before another table’s when his order came in one minute after.

“Sir, we are working on your order right now. It should be done in any moment.” You try to stay as calm as you possibly can, and placate the angry man. “Why don’t I go check on it, okay?”

Everything was apparently not okay when he hollers back, “Are you even doing your job right?”

Chanyeol, the other server tonight, meets you in the kitchen and murmured under his breath, “You want me to handle it?” You shook your head, willing the hot tears away, but your face was no doubt burning red.

“I’m fine. I got this,” you flashed smile in thanks, but he still looks at you, unsure, as you turn on your heels and head towards the table with the man’s order in your hand. Everyone, and literally everyone, watched as you present it to the man and he all but acknowledges you. Instead, he shot up from his seat, muttering to his wife to stand as well, and promptly stomped out of the restaurant.

To think that was the most that could go wrong. Your boss proceeded to blame you for your lack of competence for not bringing the food to the angry man first, “Because their table only had two orders! You could’ve finished that table’s order before starting on the bigger table! Use your brain, Y/N!”

You bit your tongue so hard that you broke off a tiny piece, and all you could think of while going through that second round of verbal abuse was how you might possibly choke on your own blood.

You finished off your shift with little encouragements from your co-workers, but other than that, you were ready to go home and sleep until the next ice age.

The next day, on Friday, you didn’t have class or work, so you decided to head to the police station. Last night you barely slept a wink. Even though the letter had been physically rid of, you couldn’t ignore the unsettling feeling in your stomach. How easily it had manage to find its way into your mailbox, it scared you half to death to imagine the man himself showing up on your doorsteps unannounced.

The bus ride took half an hour, with morning traffic, before you finally arrived with questions prepared in your head.

Despite your father being a convict, it was your first time stepping foot in a police station. On the bus there, you imagined it to be hectic, dangerous even, but all you were greeted with was a bunch of middle-aged men and two women sitting in front of computers, some looking like they haven’t slept in days. There’s a man in one of the cells behind the cubicles, snoring loudly, which explains the annoyed looks on the officers’ faces.

“Good morning,” you greeted a man at what you think is the front desk.

He’s not one of the ones who looks tired, but his movements are sluggish as he looked up from his computer screen to see who was the random girl so early in the morning. “Morning. Can I help you with something?”

“Yes, I have a question.” You took a moment to find the proper words to ask, “Would you know if it is possible to rejected letters from someone in prison?”

The man peered curiously at you, and asked, “Is there someone harassing you, miss?” You shook your head without elaborating. The officer noticed that, so he went on. “Well, I’m going to assume that the inmate is your immediate family. They don’t send letters out unless the content’s been approved of, and sense no danger in forwarding the message.”

“So, if I can request for the letters to not send, may I?”

He nodded. “You would have to contact the facility directly, and handle it from there, miss.”

You gathered as much from that that your father doesn’t actually know where you live. Now all you had to do was make sure it stayed that way.

#exo #sehun #sehun fanfic #sehun scenario #exo scenario #sehun angst #sehun fluff #kpop series #kpop fanfic #fanfic #angst #leave me your thoughts pls!

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c-j-writes · 5 years

Text

Fictober 2019

Prompt #6 “Yes, I’m aware. Your point?”

[Untitled Gay Mess]

Rating: T

Warnings/Tags: Will involve drug abuse in later chapters

Chapter Six

My locker banged as I shut it a bit harder than necessary. I wasn’t in a good mood. Because of my stupid ankle injury, I had to get taken out of my gym class, so my morning was spent in the guidance office changing my schedule. Now, instead of the class that helped me keep my calm for the day, I’m headed to the library for a tutoring block. That was Coach Faye’s suggestion, which I couldn’t exactly dispute.

Crutching my way down the hallway, I felt like everyone was staring at me. My ankle was in its new cast, green, at my request, which in hinds sight, I should have realized would stick out like a sore thumb. My father pulled some strings with some guy he knew at some office somewhere and got me an appointment with an ortho doctor within a day. So, I got to stay home the rest of yesterday and wallow in my self-pity. It wasn’t pretty.

Darian texted me pictures of the team meeting after school and getting back on practice in my honor. It was supposed to cheer me up to know that they’re not just giving in because I’m out, but it just made me feel worse about not being able to be there. Sophie had been texting me on and off about cheerleader and football drama that I was missing and she thought I would have cared about.

The library was right next to the gym, so I got to see the doors before I had to turn away and walk into the library. As I was thinking about how to open the door without dropping a crutch, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I glanced over and huffed.

“What do you want, Mack?” My voice was probably snappier than usual, but to be fair, I’d had a hell of a few days.

“Are you okay? What happened to your foot?” Swiveling on my good ankle, I turned to face the brunette. Almost immediately after I looked up at her, I looked away, remembering that her face wasn’t good for my focus.

“I broke my ankle, it’s nothing.” I could feel her eyes searching for mine, but I wasn’t going to give in. I couldn’t deal with this right now, I had too much happening to think about her or why she won’t leave me alone or why her face made me panicky.

“It’s doesn’t look like nothing, Andrea.” And why does she have to sound so damn sincere?

“Well, it is nothing that you need to worry about, okay?” I turned back to the library door and wrenched one open, holding the crutch with my free hand. “And my name is Andy,” I said over my shoulder as I limped into the building. I pushed all thoughts of Mack out of my head. At least, as far out of my head as I was able to.

The library was far from quiet. Since it was still between periods, students were talking aimlessly as if the silent rule only existed within the constraints of class time.

It was a slow process getting from the entrance to the back of the building, where the private study rooms were. That’s where everyone in the tutoring program got to meet, otherwise, you had to book time int he rooms at least a month in advance. Not that I’d ever cared about using one.

My tutor wasn’t there when I struggled my way into the room. This whole crutch thing was going to take some getting used to. I took my time settling in and propping my ankle up on a chair next to me. The bell rang and I glanced out the window, into the main room, to see if anyone was approaching. Not a soul.

Whatever. If my tutor was absent, that meant that I basically got a free period. Pulling out my phone, I replied to yet another text from Sophie about some jock who got with some freshman. Just as I was refreshing a few social media apps, the door opened, startling me enough to jump slightly. I winced as my leg moved in an awkward way. When I looked up, my mouth went dry.

“Hey, sorry I’m late, I had to pick something up,” Kloe said, taking the seat across from me. Her hair was in a bun, with pieces sticking out at odd angles. She could pass for an artist. She started laying out a folder and a few sheets of paper, reading over something before looking at me expectantly. My eyes followed her movements, snapping up to her face when she cleared her throat.

“Um… hey, how’s it going?” I asked, lifting one corner of my mouth into a lopsided smile.

“It’s going fine, it would be going better if you could pay attention and get out the work you need to get done.” She leaned back in her seat, lifting an eyebrow. Shit. I was pissing her off.

“Sorry.” I leaned over and grabbed my bag, rifling through it to look for my math textbook. My neck burned as it turned red. I wasn’t used to feeling this anxious around anyone, but here I was stuttering and making a goddamn fool of myself. And it had to be in front of Kloe, of all people. As it was I couldn’t believe my luck that she was the one who had to witness just how much of a dumbass I was. “So, uh… you must be like some genius to be a tutor, right?”

“The school couldn’t transfer my AP courses from last year, so they thought the extra credit would make me forget about it.” She was one of the AP kids. That made sense.

“I had to get a study block because I broke my ankle and they took me out of gym.” I was hoping she’d think I was only there because it was an extra class and not because I was a total idiot.

“Yes, I’m aware. Your point?”

I just stared for a few seconds. If she was anything, it was blunt. “Nothing, just figured you should know that.” I trailed off at the end of that statement. I don’t think it was possible to sound any dumber. “So, I thought we should start on whatever you have due next unless there’s anything specific you want me to help with?”

By the end of the day, my arms were exhausted. Opening my locker, I had to lean my head against the frame for a few minutes to rest a little. A nap was calling my name. I actually started to doze off standing there when someone banged on the locker next to me. With a small scream, I jolted upright.

“What’s up, Crutchie?” Derrick laughed from where he stood next to Soph. She looked like she might slap him, but the emotion quickly left her face. His eye was dark purple from the other night when Mack punched him. I’d tease him if I weren’t afraid he’d bring up why I was with her.

“Hey, Ands,” Sophie said. She gave me a quick hug, careful not to mess with my leg. “How was your day?” I smiled at her. She was the only person who ever asked me that. It was a small thing, but I always noticed.

“My leg is killing me, but I’m alive, so I guess that’s something, right?” I answered.

“You’re so stupid, breaking your ankle on the second day of school?” I rolled my eyes.

“It’s not like I meant to.”

“Whatever, anyway, Liam’s throwing a party after the game this Friday and a little birdie told me he was really hoping you’d come.” Liam was a football player who thought he was hot shit for finally making the varsity team by our senior year. I guess he was good looking and Sophie basically tried to hook me up with any guy that was breathing and played a sport at our school. I just went along with it. What was I supposed to say? Hey, maybe try and scout a chick for me next time? Please. I’d be off the team and out of the loop in seconds.

“Liam’s not my type, I don’t go for asshole football guys.”

Derrick scoffed. “You don’t go for any guys.” Soph did smack him this time. I glared.

“Hey, I could still kick your ass, even with this busted ankle.” He rolled his eyes. My blood pounded in my ears. I wasn’t sure if it was just from anger or if there was some embarrassment in there too, but I didn’t care to think about it.

Sophie started pulling him away, always trying to avoid conflict between us. “Just, come next Friday, okay? A drink or two will make your ankle heal faster.” I didn’t know where the logic in that was, but I nodded anyway, closing my locker to start heading home.

#original story #she a bit short but she got the spirit #my ocs #fictober19 #untitled gay mess #prompt 6

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alippy711 · 6 years

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Falling Away With You-Ch.12

Chapter Twelve: Twins Night Out

“I can’t remember the last time we went to dinner just us”

I peered over my menu at Matt as he stared off, presumably trying to remember how long it had actually been.

“Honestly, I think it was before the season started. We are way over due for this” He smiled and nodded as the waitress came over dropping off our drinks.

It was a rare Friday night where both Matt and I were free and we jumped on the opportunity to head into the city for dinner and see what trouble we could get into. The two of us are as much a force on our own as we are with a group of friends.

“I feel like we haven’t talked all week, how are things with Evan?” I placed my menu on the table taking a long sip from my drink preparing to catch Matt up.

“Things are really great. Last weekend I hung out with him and Jared then we went to dinner the other night. I don’t know everything is just so...” I paused trying to think of the right word, “Easy with Evan”

“And they aren’t easy with pasta?”

“Some aspects are, we get along so easily and our personalities mesh really well, but what I worry about with David I don’t have to deal with when it comes to Evan” I shrugged hoping I was making some sense with my rambling.

“What do you worry about?”

“For starters Evan isn’t in the NHL which means our schedules are easier to work around and I can see him whenever. He also doesn’t leave the country for 3-4 months out of the year and I don’t have to worry about other girls.”

“Yeah but you sort of put yourself in that situation” His bluntness took me by surprise.

“I realize that. Its more the fact that Evan isn’t seeing any other girls because he wants a relationship.”I couldn’t be mad at his comment, it was true and Matt’s probably the only person who can get away with it.

“Do you want a relationship with Evan?” Matt’s eyes searched mine as he asked the million-dollar question.

“That’s what I need to figure out. We both know Evan is an amazing guy and I really like him. I love spending time with him, he’s everything im looking for…” My voice trailed off and I had to turn away from Matt’s piercing glance.

“But…”

“But no matter what David is always on my mind. I can’t shake him despite how hard I try. I haven’t seen him in a week and I feel like a part of me is missing.”

I picked up my drink, downing the contents in the glass as I pushed out a frustrated sigh annoyed at how much of an effect David had on me even when I wasn’t with him.

“Have you really been trying though?” He asked tilting his head to the side with a glare. I opened my mouth to speak but thought twice, knowing Matt would see through my lie.

“If you feel that way doesn’t it change things with Evan?”

“Nope. My feelings toward David don’t change his no relationship stance.”

“Basically you’re saying if David wanted a relationship there would be no question who you would pick.” It wasn’t a question but a statement and knew there was no reason to argue it.

“Unfortunately that isn’t the situation. I like Evan and want to see where it could go, but I can’t quit David, I need him to do something fucked up forcing me to cut him off” I pushed out an ironic laugh, knowing how messed up that sounded.

“You realize you’re essentially admitting to not having the ability to tell David no, right?”

“Completely aware. Im too far gone to pull away from him on my own. He’s my Achilles heel” He let out a low whistle understanding the gravity of my feelings for David.

Matt knew I was admitting to loving him without saying the words, he knew me. He looked between our empty glasses then flagged down our waitress as she walked away from another table.

“Could we get another round, please? Oh and two kamikaze shots”

“Of course, I’ll be right back with those, and your food should be up in a minute” My eyes were wide when he turned back to me and I noticed the glint in his eyes which could only mean trouble.

“Don’t give me that look, you need this”

I stumbled into the bone chilling winter air thankful for the reprieve from the stifling bar as my body buzzed from the alcohol. I was mid step when Matt’s hand came down hard on my shoulder yanking me back onto the sidewalk.

“Jesus Ash, pay attention you’re gonna get run over!” He yelled as a car zoomed by us.

“They should know to stop for me” I could hear my drunk voice and winced, it was definitely time to leave.

“Here, you need this slice more than me” I thanked him graciously taking the slice of Regina’s Pizza from him and downing it faster than my first slice. I watched him type furiously away on his phone and I looked down at my phone with a sudden urge to text David, another sign I was drunk.

“Ok the uber has been ordered” Matt smiled swaying slightly and I was thankful that he was as drunk as me, though he was probably a 7 to my current 9 on a 10 scale.

“Actually, can you order me a separate one?” The words came off my tongue before the thought was fully formed in my mind. His brow went up in question as his eyes narrowed to slits trying to figure me out.

“I wanna go crash with our little sis. She’s out at some BU party and I told her I would come by if we didn’t leave too late.” He continued to eye me suspiciously and I knew I needed to sell this.

“I haven’t seen Addie all week and if im going to be successful at distancing myself from David then there’s no one better to help with that than you two” I mentally patted myself on the back, I may have been drunk but that seemed pretty legit to me.

He huffed out a breath and pulled up his uber app. “Fine, but only because I know you haven’t been texting him tonight, because I’ve watched you like a hawk.” I flashed my best angelic smile and pushed down the voice in my head telling me this was a horrible idea. It had been a good three hours since Matt and I decided my best plan of action would be to limit my time alone with David, yet here I was…

I couldn’t help but think how inevitable this scenario was as I fumbled with his key. Anytime I made logical plans while drinking the opposite was more likely to occur. I also had a feeling Matt knew what I was up to, I mean he knew me better than anyone else, but I was currently too drunk to care. It had been eight days since I last saw David which meant logic was out the door. I walked into the mostly dark and quiet house, granted it was almost 1 in the morning with the only light on the first floor coming from the living room where I began my search.

“Pasta, where are you?”

My words rang out loud against the stillness as I walked past the stairway down the hall that led to the kitchen and living room. No answer. I walked further into the kitchen turning towards the living room when my eyes fell on the empty bottle of wine and two glasses on the coffee table. My heart began to race and I shook my head trying to rid my mind of every horrible thought currently flooding my brain. Jakub was still in town im sure the two of them had some wine, no need to go crazy. Unfortunately, the closer I came to the table the more I realized the over reaction was warranted because unless Jakub started wearing red lipstick I had just walked into my worst nightmare.

My eyes scanned the room and I spotted a woman’s winter coat hanging across one of the kitchen chairs. I immediately felt dizzy and grabbed hold of the couch as a wave of nausea washed over me. I took a few deep breaths trying to calm the sickness in my stomach, butI was failing. I turned, and as quietly and quickly as possible hustled back towards the front door but that’s when I heard it. My eyes drifted up the staircase as soft moans trickled down from above and there was nothing that could hold back the sickness now.

The tears were spilling over my cheeks in seconds while the nausea grew stronger forcing me to bolt towards the bathroom. I made it to the toilet just in time to release everything I had consumed that day as the pit in my stomach continued to grow while my heart broke. I had a million thoughts bouncing around in my head but the overwhelming need to get the fuck out of his house was the most prominent. I cleaned myself up, splashing water on my face and in my mouth before heading out of the bathroom.

I reached in my purse for my phone but found my keys first and stared at David’s key hanging off one of the rings. In my current drunken emotional state, I made the split-second decision to unhook the key from its place, walk back into the kitchen and toss it onto the counter before booking it towards the front door. I was steps away from freedom when a flood of light entered from the hallway where the guest room was.

“David?”

I heard Jakub’s voice call out as I swung open the door hoping it would block his view and hustled down the hallway of the building, not wanting him to see me. I went past the elevator and straight for the stairs in case Jakub followed me out. I leaned against the cement wall needing a minute to compose myself. My entire body was shaking, my heart racing and the tears were still falling, I was certain I looked like an absolute train wreck. It felt like my heart was shattering into a million little pieces as what just happened played on a loop in my mind. I pulled out my phone and dialed Addie’s number, knowing I couldn’t go home since I was technicallyat her place anyway.

“Hey Ash, what’s up?” Addie spoke

“Ad I need you to come get me” My voice broke between fits of crying.

“What’s wrong? Are you ok? Where are you? Aren’t you with Matt?” I could hear the panic in her voice as a million questions spilled from her mouth.

“Im at David’s. Pleasedon’t ask, just come get me.” I pleaded trying to contain my crying. She let out a heavy sigh and I heard her rummaging around before she spoke.

“Leaving now be there in 10.”

“Th-thank you” I stuttered hanging up the phone. I slowly made my way down to the lobby of the building needing the time to compose myself knowing I would have to face the concierge when I left the building. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and answered it without looking at the ID.

“Im here”

“Walking out in two seconds” I hung up the phone and pushed open the stairwell door revealing the brightly lit lobby, the noise gaining the attention of the man behind the desk. He smiled but it quickly faded as he caught a glimpse of my clearly rough state and opened his mouth to speak but I beat him to it.

“Have a good night” I said hustling past him towards the front doors fixated on Addie’s car. I could feel her eyes on me the second I sat down but I couldn’t look at her yet.

“Just give me a minute”

I begged trying to will the tears in my eyes to stop falling as I already had a massive headache from my previous crying bouts. I saw her nod her as she put the car in drive and headed back towards the other side of the city.

I picked at my manicure while she watched me from her desk chair while I explained the disaster once I left Matt.

“Do you think Jakub saw you?”

I shrugged, “Dunno, he definitely saw someone, but I don’t think he knew it was me, ya know?” She nodded giving me that look that told me she was trying to think of a nice way to say something.

“Just spit it out Ad’s”

She sighed, opened her mouth to speak but closed it and got up from her spot to come join me on the bed. She slapped lightly at my hands making me stop picking at my nails before finally speaking.

“I just don’t get why you went over there, things are going so well with Evan and you’ve cut back on spending time with David. So why?” She pleaded with me trying to figure out what I had been questioning ever since I told the uber driver to go to his place instead of hers.

“I don’t know, I was drunk and the first person to pop in my head was him, not Evan.” I sighed knowing that was the simple truth. My heart wanted David but my head wanted Evan. I wasn’t about to get into the same conversation with her that I had with Matt only hours before.

“I feel like-” She was cut off as my phone began to vibrate on the bedside table I reached over only to see David’s name flash across the screen.

“Fuck, the key” Realization flashing across my face. I looked back down at the phone hitting the side button muting the call and refocused my attention to Addie who was looking at me confused.

“I fucking took his key and left it on the kitchen counter before I left. He clearly just saw it.” I groanedlayingmy head in my hands.

“That was a dumb fucking decision, he’s not going to stop calling”

Her words were barely off her tongue when my phone started going off again. I held it up for her and she shot me a told-ya-so look as I released a frustrated groan. I muted the ringer again and tossed it on the floor.

“Ash..” She dragged out my name and I broke eye contact with her looking down at the blanket I was wrapped in.

“I know; I need to figure my shit out. Everything’s a fucking mess. But im done dealing with it tonight, im going to sleep.” She dropped it after that, knowing I had hit my limit for the day.

#david pastrnak #david pastrnak fic #david pastrnak imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #falling away with you fic #nhl rpf

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cjwritesfanfiction · 7 years

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Bodies (Edited version)

Hey guys! You guys wanted an editied version so here it is! Enjoy!

Summary: Alex is a Hitman who gets stuck in a pickle. Luckily, he has plenty of tricks to live another day.

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The night was quiet and still, which was unusual for the city. Snow softly fell onto the rooftops and down at the people down below. Some of them were Christmas shopping, some were struggling to keep warm. If you asked the locals, they would tell you it was just one of those rare nights. A night of quietness, peace, and serenity. It was a night to enjoy the city and all its magic and wonder. However, none of them knew about the world that took place underground. Secret organizations fought for control of the city every day. Blood was shed, lives were taken, the war continued. Alex just wished he wasn't apart of it. But, money was money and Alex never had nearly enough, so he would do what it took to survive.

This was the reason Alex sat on top of the rooftop on an abandoned warehouse across from New York’s famed Antonio's Bistro in the middle of December even though he could be warm in his apartment. Antonio’s Bistro was a restaurant at the very edge of the city, expensive, high profile, one of those places you had to call months ahead of time in order to get a seat. That was unless you belonged to Antonio himself. Antonio was one of the most feared and widely respected members of the mafia. For generations, Antonio’s family and Alex’s client’s family (who he couldn’t name due to the nature of the deal) have been fighting for control of New York’s underground. After Antonio’s gang of ruffians invaded Alex’s client's territory and murdered his men in cold blood, he had hired Alex to end the fued between the two gangs once and for all. All he had to do was wait for Antonio to come out. . .

It was cruel how long Antonio made Alex wait. It was like Antonio knew that Alex was sitting up on that roof top freezing his ass off. After twenty minutes, Alex set down his gun and shivered in place. His teeth chattered and he felt piercing pain reach his cheeks like needles poking into his skin. A wind came by and Alex swore rubbing his hands together. He didn't deserve this torture.

A couple hours later, Antonio finally started to make his way towards the door. Alex smirked and lined up his shot pulling his black stocking hat over his ears. New York City winters could kiss his ass. He hated every moment of this and just wanted it to be over. As the fat man walked out of the restaurant, Alex flexed his hand trying to get the feeling to return to his fingers. He should have brought gloves… Alex put his hand on the trigger and smirked. No matter how many times he did this, it always felt like the first time. His fingers itched to pull the trigger, finish the job, and collect the hefty reward that came with the fat man taking his last breath. Alex loaded one bullet and aimed for the man’s head. It wouldn’t take more than one bullet. . . Alex was known to never miss. . .

Antonio smiled at the waitress in the restaurant and tipped his hat before stepping out of the restaurant. Alex smirked and placed his steady finger on the trigger preparing to pull it and take the final shot. He took a deep breath and counted to ten in his head. It was ritual, routine. If he didn't do this, his finger would be all too stiff and cause the bullet to stray off course. After many long years of hitting targets, Alex knew what needed to be done before the kill. Calm yourself, steady your grip, and wait for the perfect position. He was calm. He was steady. All he needed was ten more yards, five more yard, three more yards. . .

Something whizzed by Alex’s head nearly taking off a couple of dark hairs on his head. Alex groaned and pulled down a ski mask to cover his face. He didn’t have time for this bullshit right now. He had a reward to collect for fuck’s sake!

“So, the little lion came back to play. Thought I told you not to come back here or I would blow your head off.” A voice laughed from across the building. Alex recognized it immediately, Antonio’s dog. Antonio’s dog was a hired hitman turned bodyguard that Antonio hired to protect him after he almost got offed by some amature. Alex didn’t know his name, nor had he seen his face, but he was smart enough to know Antonio’s dog was someone he didn’t want to tangle with. The man had an impeccable shot, almost as good as Alex’s. However, Alex had more creative ideas on how to get the job done.

Alex took a risk and stood up. The man on the other roof did the same and cocked a hip. Alex frowned feeling that stupid smirk burn through him and shatter his core. Sometimes, when he had a job in the country, he wished upon the stars that someone would pay him to kill that son of a bitch. Seems like the stars didn't ever have time for his wishes. The bastard never seemed to die no matter how bad Alex battered him up.

“Fuck off, I have a job to do and you’re getting in my way.” He growled pulling a pistol out of his holster and firing a warning shot at the man on the room. It nearly hit him, but instead zoomed past him hitting a beer bottle some homeless guy left there. The man only laughed. This wasn't the first warning shot he had ever shot at the man after all.

“And let you have all the fun? No way. I won’t get paid if the source of my income suddenly keels over.” The man took another shot at Alex, and Alex hid behind a metal air conditioning unit to avoid being hit. The man fired a couple more shots, but they hit the air conditioning unit and ricocheted off in random directions. A black car turned the corner into the next street. Alex swore under his breath. He didn't have time for these games. Alex waited until the man had to reload and ran out to grab his backpack, which contained all of his guns and ammunition. He couldn’t let his target get away this time. The man reloaded quickly and continued to fire at him. Alex weaved in and out in a zigzagging pattern to avoid being hit by the bullets. Once he grabbed his backpack, he dove to the ledge of the building where there was a small wall to hide him. He grabbed a pistol from his backpack and loaded it. When he heard the man run out again, he poked his head up and shot the man. The bullet barely grazed his arm but it was enough to make the man scream and stop firing long enough to Alex hop down the fire escape and run after the car. It was Friday night during rush hour. He wouldn’t get far!

The car turned into a vacant parking lot, and Alex followed it. He had dreamed about this moment. He dreamed of shooting the fat man and watching him fall to the ground. He dreamed of getting that reward money and putting his friend’s child through the best private school in New York. Philip was too smart. He needed this. Yes, Alex had waited far too long for this moment and he wouldn’t let Antonio’s dog stop him. He stopped behind a concrete pillar for a moment to reload his pistol. He wouldn’t need the rifle anymore. It was far too loud for the enclosed space, plus he didn’t want his target to be blown into pieces. He smiled and aimed his gun slowly walking towards the car.

“Hands in the air!” He yelled and made his way towards the car.

Something was off. The people in the car could clearly see Alex. Alex could see them just fine. But, they didn’t scream, they didn’t yell for help, they didn’t try to run him over or beg for their life. No, these people just sat there in silence smirking at Alex. Why were they smirking? They were about to be killed for God’s sake! A gun was pressed to the back of Alex’s head and a familiar voice greeted him.

“Drop the gun.” The dog said.

Alex gently lowered the gun to the floor and put his hands up. His heart was beating out of his chest. This whole thing had been a set up?! That was impossible! Alex had been so careful with his planning! So, cautious unless. . . The fight… A few days ago, Alex got into a fight with Burr, a double agent for his client and Antonio. Turns out Burr was playing both sides. After Alex called him out, he must have told Antonio about his little ploy. Dammit! If he lived through this, he was going to fucking kill Burr. . .

“Now, take it easy.” Alex chuckled trying his best to sound confident. “You don’t want to do something you’ll regret.”

“You’re in no position to talk. We have you right where we want you.” The southern accented voice nearly purred into Alex’s ear. The gun lowered to his back, right in between his ribs. “You’re mine, little lion.”

Alex smirked and quickly grabbed his arm twisting it back and disarming him. Turns out those stupid self defense classes came in handy after all. The gun fell to the ground and Alex kicked it over the edge of the parking complex to the street below. On instinct alone, Alex ran. His mission was always to survive another day, even it meant losing his target. The fat man in the car got out and pointed at Alex.

“Don’t just stand there idiot! After him! Don’t let him get away!” He slurred. The man on the ground groaned and chased after Alex. Alex did his best to lose him. He climbed up fire escapes, jumped to close buildings, and pushed through crowds to try to lose the man. But, the man was persistent. He was actually keeping up with Alex and gaining. Alex was starting to panic. What were they going to do to him when they caught him? Interrogate him? Torture him? Kill him?! Thoughts in Alex’s head raced as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop. His paranoia was starting to get the best of him. Every inch the man got closer to him, Alex began to feel more and more fatigued.

At one point, his thoughts caught up with him and he landed wrong causing his ankle to roll out of place. He screamed and fell to the ground. In an instant, the man was on top of him pinning him down except for one arm he didn't notice.

“Well, well, well what do we have here? Looks like God isn’t on your side today, darlin.” He purred pulling off Alex’s mask. Alex’s breath hitched as he saw the man’s eyes widen in disbelief.

There was one rule of being a hitmans. Don't let anyone see who you really are. People would stop at nothing to kill you. Your identity as a hitman was your greatest blessing and worse curse. Antonio’s dog saw him… He could find Alex and hunt him down!

“You’re-”

Alex didn’t let him finish. He punched the man with his free arm. The dog passed out on top of Alex. Alex shoved him off and used a chimney to hoist himself up with a groan. Before the man came too, Alex limped away on his bad leg as quickly as he could. Live another day, that was the way of the hitman. As long as he got away, he had a chance to live another day.

#bodies au #alexander hamilton #thomas jefferson #hamilton #new au!

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weekendwarriorblog · 4 years

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The Weekend Warrior October 2, 2020 – ON THE ROCKS, MANGROVE, SCARE ME, POSSESOR, BOYS IN THE BAND, THE GLORIAS, SAVE YOURSELVES! and More

It’s October, which means we’re finally getting Patty Jenkins’ long-awaited Wonder Woman 1984 after a number of delays from its original June release. Now that it’s finally coming out, maybe we can finally see movie theaters rebound with such an anticipated superhero blockbuster ready to fill those theaters right back up to 100% capacity. What’s that? It’s been moved to Christmas Day? Movie theaters in New York and L.A. are still closed and other movie theaters are only at 25-40% capacity? So we’re not getting Wonder Woman 1984 this week? So what are we working with here… Something like 30 other movies that few people have been chomping on the bit to see? Great… well, then never mind. We’ll see how far I get through the insane amount of movies being released this week, but I can tell you right now, that it might not be very far.

Possibly the highest profile release this week is the new film from Sofia Coppola, ON THE ROCKS, which is being released theatrically by A24 (where movie theaters are open) before its inevitable Apple TV+ streaming premiere on October 23. I had the opportunity of seeing Coppola’s film as part of my New York Film Festival coverage, where it got a sneak preview last week.

It’s a fantastic film starring Rashida Jones as Laura, a woman who has been married to her husband Dean (Marlon Wayans) for long enough that they have two young daughters, although she’s started to suspect that he’s losing interest in her and maybe sleeping with his assistant. As she gets more paranoid, her lethario art-dealing father (Bill Murray) shows up and tries to help Laura find out the truth about her husband’s fidelity.

Like many, I was a huge fan of Coppola’s earlier films, The Virgin Suicides and Lost in Translation – in fact, interviewing Coppola for the latter was one of my first roundtable experiences ever – and though I liked Marie Antoinette just fine, some of Coppola’s other films in recent years just haven’t connected with me. Maybe it took for her to do a full-on New York City film, as On the Rocks is, for me to return to the film but there’s so much other stuff to like about it.

First of all, it seems like a much more personal film than something like The Beguiling but she also has a fantastically vibrant lead in Jones, who doesn’t often get roles that really shows off her abilities. It’s hard not to think about some of Noah Baumbach’s movies, particularly last year’s Marriage Story, while watching On the Rocks because Coppola uses a similar segmental storytelling format. What sets it apart from just about every other film is Coppola’s ability to acknowledge that the best way to use Bill Murray in your movie is to just let him be Bill Murray and do what he’s going to do. That immediately lends itself to some great moments where father and daughter can go out on the town (and eventually to Mexico!) where Jones essentially acts as the audience for her father’s shenanigans.

But this is very much Jones’ movie even as she’s surrounded by the likes of Jenny Slate as a single mother kvetching about her dating life and Wayans, possibly playing his most serious and dramatic role since Requiem for a Dream.

I really enjoyed On the Rocks more than any of Coppola’s movies maybe going back to Lost in Translation. I think that she does have something to say as a filmmaker in terms of something as personal as this vs. a genre film like The Beguiled, and she does a particularly good job capturing New York City in a way that I really miss right now.

You can also read my more technically-minded review of Coppola’s latest over at Below the Line.

While I haven’t had the time to see as much of the 58th New York Film Festival as I like, I did get to see MANGROVE, the next chapter of Steve McQueen’s “Small Axe Anthology” which also played at the NYFF this past week. In fact, it’s the first chapter of the group of five movies about England’s West Indian community, both chronologically and when it will air on Amazon (November 20).

This one takes place in 1970, focusing on the Mangrove, a Notting Hill restaurant where the West Indian and black communities regularly congregate, but also, a target for the racist local police who are constantly raiding it and causing misery both for the customers and for the shop owner Frank Crichlow, played by Shaun Parkes. Some of the people who frequent the tiny shop are Black Panther’s Laetitia Wright as (what else?) Black Panther activist Althea Jones, but after a number of police disruptions, the people have had enough and decide to march to protest, which inevitably leads to a conflict with the same police.

Unlike Lovers Rock, which is just over an hour long, Mangrove feels like a real movie with a beginning, middle and end i.e. a simpler three-act structure, but it also runs for over two hours. Honestly, this could have been shown in theaters on its own, and I would have been satisfied, although I’m more than curious how that ties into the other movies.

The first act of the movie is similar to Lovers Rock as you’re allowed to look into this community and how they try to enjoy their lives together but having difficulty doing so due to the violent police raids, much of this part focusing more on Crichlow than the others. The actual protest march is the film’s biggest set piece where a lot of the players come together including the PC Frank Pulley, as played by Sam Spruell. This leads to the third act, which is basically a court trial of about a dozen of the people who frequent the Mangrove, including Crichlow, many of them defending themselves. If there was racism in the way the black people of London are treated by the police, it’s exacerbated when they’re put to trial in a courtroom where the jury only has 2 black members. The judge is so clearly on the side of alleviating the police of any responsibility for what happened that you just get madder and madder as it goes along.

As much as the film is very much Parkes as the lead, the strong support from Wright and the likes of Malachi Kirby as Darcus Howe, who has some amazing courtroom scenes, and Jack Lowden as Ian MacDonald, another one of the barristers. Almost every scene gives McQueen and his crew a chance to show off how well they were able to recreate every aspect of the times, whether it’s the neighborhood or recreating the Old Bailey where the trial takes place. I was just really impressed with everything about the movie from the screenplay, cowritten by McQueen with Alastair Siddons, to the cast and every single performance. All of it comes together so well while telling the very true story of the Mangrove 9 in a way that feels like McQueen doesn’t need to exaggerate anything for the viewer to really feel the injustices in play during that era.

This is an epic film that reminds me a bit of Mike Leigh’s underrated Peterloo last year. Not only did I think Mangrove was better than Lovers Rock, but I also think it’s better than McQueen’s Oscar-winning Best Picture, 12 Years a Slave, so it’s kind of odd that this wasn’t chosen to open the NYFF vs. the far shorter film.

Since it’s October, we might as well start with some scary or semi-scary genre movies, three of which premiered at Sundance earlier this year, at least two in the Midnight Section.

I’ve said before how impressed by the movies that horror streamer Shudder was sharing with its audience and Josh Ruben’s SCARE ME (Shudder), which debuts on Thursday, is no exception. I generally love horror comedies, but this one is more of a comedy horror, mainly being a two-hander as two horror writers hang out in a remote cabin in the middle of winter, trying to scare each other by telling stories. Ruben himself plays Fred Banks, a typical writer/actor/director from Hollywood who really hasn’t written or directed much, but when he meets extremely cynical bestselling horror writer Fanny Addie, as played by Aya Cash (from The Boys), there’s a certain amount of competitive flirtation that you know will lead to a fun movie.

So yeah, I’m not going to say too much about the stories they tell each other or what makes them so riveting and hilarious, but Ruben is not afraid to make things very heightened, whether it’s the performances by the two actors or the use of music or sound FX to really emphasize the horror aspect of the film. It’s hard not to think of something like The Shining or Misery due to the house out in the middle of nowhere, but Ruben also tends to show his horror influences in his script. The movie is working so well as a two-hander before Chris Redd from SNL shows up as the pizza delivery guy Carlo, drugs come out and things start to get even more outrageous and hilarious.

I have to say that I haven’t seen a horror movie this year that I enjoyed quite as much as Scare Me, since it’s so fun even when it starts to get exceedingly more dark in the last act. This is a great deconstruction of the horror genre that manages to create a truly original premise out of a mash-up of horror tropes.

In theaters and drive-ins this Friday and then available digitally next Tuesday, October 6, is Alex Huston Fischer and Eleanor Wilson’s SAVE YOURSELVES! (Bleecker Street), a genre comedy starring John Reynolds and Sunita Mani (GLOW) as a squabbling couple who decided to take a retreat to a cabin in upstate New York to work on their relationship sans any electronics… only to miss the alien invasion that is progressively destroying the rest of the country.

It’s kind of funny seeing this back-to-back with the above Scare Me, because they’re both very funny two-handers, although this one was not quite as funny as I was hoping for, maybe because the main couple are cute, but they’re also quite deliberately clueless. They seem very much like a lot of younger people these days who want to try to better themselves but they’re so addicted to their smartphones, they don’t always realize how bad their behavior looks.

I did like what the filmmakers managed to do with mostly just the two actors and the semi-adorable gas-guzzling furball aliens who show up and terrorize the duo for the second half of the movie. Like with Scare Me, I don’t want to say too much about what happens to them, because that’s more than half the fun of watching the ordeal they end up going through, but it’s a different directorial debut and a great showcase for the talents of Mani (who I’ve seen a few things) and Reynolds (whose work I really didn’t know at all.

Basically, the four of them take a fun concept and do a lot with what is also essentially a two-hander that gets stranger and stranger but never is as outright funny as I was hoping it might be with such a great premise.

Brandon Cronenberg (yes, that Cronenberg) drops his second movie, POSSESSOR UNCUT (NEON), which debuted in the midnight section of Sundance earlier this year. Unfortunately, like the two movies above, it is one where knowing too much might detract from actually enjoying what happens. Essentially, Andrea Riseborough plays Tasya, an assassin who is transplanted into another body via her handler (Jennifer Jason Leigh) but one particular hit, which puts her into the body of Christopher Abbott’s Colin Tate goes horribly wrong.

I think that’s enough of a set-up for a movie that you will probably know immediately whether it will be for you as you watch, particularly after an intensely gory murder which you’ll watch with very little context of what is happening. In fact, you might spend quite a bit of Possessor Uncut unsure of what is going on, and that’s both a plus and a minus towards my overall enjoyment of the movie. Again, I don’t want to give too much away but much of the movie deals with what happens when Tasya is transplanted into the body of a man dealing with his own inner demons (Abbott), leading up to her having to conduct the hit on her target, Tate’s future father-in-law, as played by Sean Bean.

There’s something quite futuristic and other-worldly about all aspects of Possessor Uncut, but Cronenberg handles all the sci-fi elements in the film in such a matter-of-fact way that we never assume this is too far into the future but just watching another version of our own reality. I love Riseborough so much, as she’s easily one of my favorite actors, although I’m a little mixed on Abbott, so mainly seeing him acting like what she might be like controlling his body, it’s a little off-putting to be honest.

What really helps Cronenberg’s bizarre vision more than anything is his second collaboration with his DP Karim Hussain who has grown so much as a cinematographer in the 8 years since Antiviral. Every aspect of the movie’s otherworldliness is enhanced by Hussain’s use of colored filters to keep the viewer off-balance and unsure of what exactly one is watching. But those who are onboard for the type of violence and gore we get early on might be disappointed in how long we have before we get to more of it. In that way, Possessorreminds me of the recent

There’s no denying that Brandon is his father’s son with the type of storytelling he wants to explore, and he brings the same type of auteurish angle to his gore-filled genre filmmaking that is likely to be similarly divisive on who loves and appreciates it vs. those who just won’t get it at all. Either way, Possessor is as daring as it is weird and freaky and your mileage will vary depending on what you’re expecting.

I had never heard of Aaron Starmer’s book SPONTANEOUS (Paramount Pictures), but Brian Duffield, writer of “The Babysitter” movies on Netflix, makes his directorial debut with quite a dark romantic comedy that seems like a great companion to Words on Bathroom Walls from earlier in the year. Katherine Langford from Cursed and Knives Out plays Mara Carlyle, a senior at Covington High School, who is sitting in class one day when one of her classmates explodes, and as others also start exploding, she ends up bonding with Charlie Plummer’s Dylan, as the two young lovers stand together to try to survive.

I generally like coming-of-age and high school movies and I definitely have some favorites, both classics and more recent ones. Let me say right now that this one is VERY dark but also very funny and enjoyable, so it immediately reminds me more of something like Heathers in the fact you’ll just be enjoying some part of the story and then some kid explodes in fully gory glory. Yeah, it’s something that might be tough for some, because it doesn’t take the typical boy meets girl, lovey-dovey kissy-face movie, although the relationship between Mara and Dylan plays a large part in the movie.

I’ve already been a fan of Plummer’s from some of his previous work, but Langford is really fantastic in this, and this allowed me to see her in a whole new light as much as I thought she played a fine part in Knives Out. It was also great to see unlikely candidates like Rob Huebel and Piper Perabo playing her parents, and I also dug Haley Law as Mara’s best friend Tess.

The movie starts out as one thing but by the second half, it’s turning into something more akin to George Romero’s 1973 The Crazies where all of Covington’s seniors are locked up in a facility being tested with drugs that hopefully will keep them from exploding. The only real problem is that it does get very dark including one plot point that might lose a lot of those that have enjoyed watching the Senior Class of Whenever spontaneously exploding.

In a week where we have a truly dreadful high school movie about heroin addiction (see below), who would have imagined that a far better movie would be the one where high school kids are randomly blowing up as they frequently do in Spontaneous? This is a pretty fantastic directorial debut by Duffield, a devilishly funny take on an overused genre but one that also stands up with the best of them. Here’s hoping Duffield gets to direct another movie because from this and “The Babysitter” movies, it’s clear he has very distinct voice and style ala Election-era Alexander Payne that would could lead to some great stuff in the future.

Next up, we have one for the boys and one for the girls…sorry. Ladies.

The Ryan Murphy-produced based on Matt Crowley’s 1968 stageplay THE BOYS IN THE BAND hits Netflix on Wednesday. Directed by Joe Mantello, who also directed the recent Broadway revival, it’s an ensemble piece featuring Jim Parsons, Zachary Quinto and Matt Bomer as three of seven gay friends who congregate the Upper East Side apartment of Michael (Parsons) to celebrate the birthday of Harold (Quinto), his birthday party including a number of surprise guests including Michael’s married college friend Alan (Brian Hutchison) and a stripper known as “Cowboy.”

I’ve never seen the stageplay on which this is based, although I know a lot about it, including the fact that it takes place on a single night all on one set. Mantello’s movie includes the entire cast from the recent 2018 Broadway revival which he also directed, so you just know everyone will be bringing their A-game. While there are some big names from the screen in the cast, there are just as many amazing moments from some of the other characters, including Robin De Jesus’ Emory, Larry (Andrew Rannels), Bernard (Michael Benjamin Washington), Hank (Tuc Watkins), as well as Bomer playing Michael’s good-looking boyfriend Donald.

That obviously well-rehearsed cast brought a lot to my first experience with Crowley’s beloved play, their hilarious patter and interaction making the first part of the movie so light and entertaining, particularly a campy dance number to the song “Heawave.” But the film also gets quite serious by the second half, and that’s despite taking place over a decade before AIDS reared its ugly head.

Much of that drama arrives at the same time as Michael’s homophobic college friend Alan shows up without ever saying why he needed to talk to Michael so urgently – we definitely can put two and two together but it’s never confirmed out loud. When Harold finally shows up, he acts like a complete asshole to everyone, but it’s quite an amazing and standout performance by Quinto, although he becomes more of a spectator as the night goes on.

But the entire cast is amazing and they’re all given moments to shine. Parsons really blew me away with his performance, and De Jesus is absolutely at first but handles the drama just as well, and I can go on and on about what a tight ensemble producer Murphy brought from stage to screen.

Boys in the Band doesn’t just deal with homophobia in the late ’60s, as it also allows these very different gay men to come to terms with their sexuality, talking about how they first realized they were gay, as well as talking about monogamy and fidelity. It would certainly be interesting to see an updated version of this set in present day, but the 1968 text and context still works just fine.

If you’ve never seen any other iteration of this play, Mantello and his cast have done a pretty fantastic job turning a one-location play into something that’s far more cinematic. I think we can expect Boys in the Band to be included in a number of Emmy categories next year.

If Boys in the Band is too much of a sausage factory for you, then there’s THE GLORIAS (LD Entertainment, Roadside Attractions), hitting digital and Amazon Prime on Wednesday i.e. today. I can’t think of any filmmaker better than Julie Taymor to tell the story of Gloria Steinem, because this is in fact a biopic about the feminist activist, as played by Julianne Moore, Alicia Vikander and two talented young actresses during the earlier scenes.

I have to be honest that I never really knew much about Steinem except for her role in the Women’s Movement and trying to get the Equal Rights Act passed in the ‘70s and her involvement in so many important women’s movements in recent years, including #MeToo. As with much of her work, Taymor takes a very different approach to the classic biopic, switching between as a little girl in the past, her time spent in India seeing women there struggling with equality, to her fierce fight for women’s rights to have autonomy over their own bodies, which includes getting abortions.

I feel like I need to go back to her childhood where her eccentric father Leo (played by a barely recognizable Timothy Hutton) is always taking her family from one place to another to Steinem as a young woman (as played by Vikander) in India. There’s no question that when Moore enters the picture of the older Steinem where it starts to get interesting. She’s also far better than the generally good Vikander, whose accent doesn’t match up with any of the other actors playing Steinem.

I was a little disappointed that we really didn’t get to see very much of Steinem’s relationship with Dorothy Pitman Hughes, as played by Janelle Monae, who basically appears for two scenes and is gone. Fortunately, it gets more into her affinity for Native Americans, particularly Kimberly Guerrero’s Wilma Mankiller. Other supporting roles of note include Bette Midler as Bella Abzug and Lorraine Toussaint as Flo Kennedy.

It takes a little time to adjust to the jumps in time and not everyone is going to like the rather pretentious decision to have Steinems from different time periods having conversations on a bus together. On the other hand, Taymor’s recreation of the 1977 Womens Conference is quite impressive, and the movie includes a fun fantasy sequence. The movie essentially does what it’s meant to do, which is to instruct and educate about why Steinem’s place in history is so important, and Taymor does a good job shaking off most of the usual biopic tropes, sometimes to success and other times not so much.

Darren Lynn Bousman, director of a bunch of the “Saw” movies including next year’s Spiral, helms DEATH OF ME (Saban Films), a psychological thriller starring Maggie Q and Luke Hemsworth as married couple, Christine and Neil Oliver, who find themselves stranded on a remote island near Thailand where the couple are trapped when a typhoon hits. The couple wake up confused about what happened over the previous 12 hours until they find a video of Neil killing and burying Christine. Hilarity ensues. (No, not really. This is in fact a deadly serious psychological thriller.)

Listen, I love Maggie Q, and I’m so happy to see her in a third movie this year, even if it’s a little strange that this one is set in a similar island paradise as the generally superior Blumhouse’s Fantasy Island from earlier in the year. This one is also similarly high concept, even borrowing a bit from The Hangover (still, not a comedy), except that the premise gets so diluted by vague and esoteric nightmarish scenes used to keep Christine (and the viewer) in a constant state of confusion.

This feels like such a different type of movie for Bousman, maybe because of the environment or the lush look created by that location which informs the film. In some ways, it reminded me of Wes Craven’s The Serpent and the Rainbow, and I usually like this type of mind-fuck type movie, but Death of Me just goes too far down that rabbit hole, and the only answer it gives in terms of what is happening is a fairly lame twist near the end. There’s no question this might have been worse in the hands of a less adept filmmaker, because the movie does look good, but I had a hard time connecting with any of it. You’ll notice that I didn’t have much to say about Luke Hemsworth’s character and that’s because he has so little personality when he mysteriously vanishes midway through the movie, you just don’t miss him at all.

At times, Death of Me comes across like a Southeast Asian Midsommar, and Maggie Q generally gives a terrific performance to help sell the terror her character must endure. Unfortunately, that effort and her talent is wasted, because the movie frequently goes so far overboard it’s impossible to get back once it begins to go too far off the rails.

Going from psychological thriller right into futuristic sci-fi with Seth Lamey’s 2067 (RLJEFilms), starring Kodi Smith-McPhee as Ethan Whyte, a young man living during a time when the earth has been disabled by the lack of oxygen. Ethan works in the mines with his older brother (Ryan Kwanten) but he’s suddenly called upon as the potential savior of earth, as he’s sent 400 years into the future to bring back a cure for earth’s woes.

Where do I even begin with a movie that generally should be something I like, but it takes so long to get even remotely interesting? This one had me vacillating between enjoying what was going on and generally being annoyed by everything. I’m not even sure where to begin except for the central premise of all plant life being dead meaning there’s no oxygen for humans. It’s a decent idea for sure but one that’s quickly lost when you realize that this is going to be another well-intentioned movie that isn’t executed very well.

The entire set-up for the movie doesn’t particularly work, but when Ethan is shot 400 years into the future via something called “The Chronicle,” he’s suddenly on an earth full of lush vegetation and no way of getting back. The movie does get slightly better at that point, because it doesn’t rely on people walking around in gas masks – cause there’s no oxygen, get it? – but Smit-McPhee really struggles to carry this section, frequently leaning on Kwanten once Ethan’s older brother shows up. I just don’t think Smit-McPhee has aged well nor has he improved much as an actor, so making him the lead is already questionable, especially when you put Kwanten into more of a supporting role, and that’s really just the tip of the iceberg for the movie’s problems.

Unfortunately, 2067 is harder to follow than most time travel movies but mainly because it chooses to jump back and forth in time, frequently stealing liberally from Blade Runner’s futuristic noir and other movies. The writing is pretty bad, and the weak cast does little to elevate it with way too much over-emoting in almost every scene.

Even the score, which would have been great if used to embellish a better movie, tends to overpower everything, essentially used as a crutch to instill emotion for characters that are hard to care about. On top of that, the storytelling is all over the place to the point where few will be focused enough to care.

Sure, there’s some nice production design at work despite substandard VFX, and otherwise, 2067 is mostly bland and highly derivative sci-fi that comes off like a bad low-budget episode of Doctor Who with little of that show’s entertainment value.

Where do I even begin with SNO BABIES (Better Noise Films), a heavy-handed PSA about drug addiction written by Michael Walsh and directed by Bridget Smith that’s available via VOD right now. It stars Katie Kelly as Kristen McCusker, a Princeton-bound high school senior who has turned her first taste of oxy into a full-blown heroin addiction as we see her dragged down a rabbit hole of absolutely every possibly awful thing that could happen to her over the course of two hours, just so that… well, I won’t spoil what happens.

There are times while watching a movie when you’re not too far into it, and you quickly realize that you’re watching a very bad movie. I certainly didn’t have to go that far into Sno Babies before seeing Kelly’s character being put through so much awfulness that it made my skin crawl more than any sort of torture porn. Whether it’s watching her or her awful friend Hannah (Paula Andino) sticking a hypodermic full of heroin into her tongue or seeing her getting raped at a party because she’s in a heroin-fueled stupor. And that’s just the first 15 minutes of the movie!

Instead of staying focused on Kristen’s journey, which is like a cross between Mean Girls and Requiem for a dream, the filmmakers also introduce a young couple, Matt and Anna (Michael Lombardi, Jane Stiles), who are trying to have a baby, Matt’s sister Mary, Kristen’s mother Clare and her real estate business, as well as a problematic coyote that takes up much of Matt’s time. Yes, this coyote ends up playing as larger and larger role in the plot and how it comes together that even if you think you know where things are going (and are probably partially right), you will be left incredulous by everything that happens over the course of the movie until it’s absolutely ludicrous last act.

So yeah, the writing is not good, the actors are very bad and every aspect of the film is so poorly made and directed, it’s impossible to even appreciate it as what it’s intended – to make a PSA for teenagers to try to keep them off of … heroin. (Yes, there are lots of other drugs that are far easier to get in the suburbs, but for whatever reason, they decided to go with heroin.) Except that the movie is so bad few teenagers will be able to get past the first 15 minutes, which means it’s a failed effort from jump.

Kelly is certainly put through a lot, including a lot of bad FX make-up, but in many ways, Andino plays a far more interesting character with a better arc, but there’s no way of realizing that until the very end, which just makes the whole thing even more bonkers.

The filmmakers behind Sno Babies must have some sort of sadistic streak to make viewers endure everything various characters are put through, but especially Kristen and Hannah. Listen, I’m never been one to get so mad at a movie that I ever actually yelled at my laptop… until Sno Babies. Let me just say that it’s a good thing I don’t have direct neighbors because they would start thinking they live next door to a psycho who keeps yelling odd things out of the blue.

Sno Babies is like an Afterschool Special on heroin, in other words, it’s unwatchable trash. Your brain would have to be on drugs to stick with it through the end. As the worst movie I’ve seen this year, it would be an understatement if I were to say that the people who made this movie should never be allowed to make another movie again.

And then we get to all the movies I wish I could get to but just didn’t have time due to my insanely busy schedule right now. I hope to get to watch some of them later but didn’t want to hold up this week’s column too much.

Lydia Dean Pilcher’s A CALL TO SPY (IFC Films) seems like my kind of movie I might like, a WWII drama about how Churchill started recruiting and training women as spies for his Special Operations Executive (SOE) in order to conduct sabotage and rebuild the resistance. Stana Katic plays Vera Atkins, who recruits two such candidates, Sarah Megan Thomas’ Virginia Hall, an American with a wooden leg, and Radhika Atpe’s Noor Inayat Khan, a Muslim pacifist, as the three women infiltrate Nazi-occupied France. The film is based on true stories, and hopefully I’ll get a chance to see it.

Streaming on Netflix this Friday is Kristen (Cameraperson) Johnson’s new doc DICK JOHNSON IS DEAD, which won a Special Jury Award at Sundance earlier this year. This one is about her 86-year-old stuntman father and how she deals with the fact that he’s eventually going to die, but literally staging all sorts of cinematic ways of killing him. This one I actually did get a chance to watch before finishing the column, and it was pretty tough to watch, mainly since I’m dealing with my own coming to terms that my slightly older mother may not be around for much longer. This is such a strange and only mildly entertaining movie, because it is so personal for Johnson, but I’m kind of shocked by how many people in her life would go along with making such a morbid and macabre film. This definitely won’t be for everyone, and I’m not quite sure how I’d feel about it if my mother died – my father’s been dead for 11 years, incidentally – but I’m not quite sure to whom this movie would appeal. Either way, it’s on Netflix so you can throw it on if you have nothing else to watch.

Other stuff streaming on Netflix this week includes the kid-friendly horror film Vampires vs the Bronx and the streamer’s latest true crime docuseries American Murder: The Family Next Door.

Another music doc that I’ll have to check out is Herb Alpert Is… (Abramorama), the latest from John Scheinfeld (Chasing Trane: The John Coltrane Documentary), and it will get a live world premiere on Thursday night at 5PM PST/8PM PST featuring a Q&A with Alpert himself via Facebook, Youtube, and Twitter and www.herbalpertis.com. On Friday, it will be available via Amazon, iTunes and other platforms as well as via DVD… and lots of other formats, including “LP format featuring a coffee table book and a five-piece 180 gram vinyl set.” Wow. I’ve always been interested in Alpert from his amazing career as a musician to his equally fantastic career running A&M Records, which discovered some of the biggest artists over the decades that followed. I can guarantee that I’ll be watching this movie very soon.

Also, Daniel Traub’s Ursula Von Ryingvard: Into her Own from Icarus Films, an innocuous title about a woman of whom I’ve never heard, will open via Virtual Cinema. Apparently, she’s a sculptor, and that doesn’t do much to pique my interest, although the fact it’s only an hour long might mean I watch it soon, as well.

Also wasn’t able to get to Marcus H. Rosenmüller’s The Keeper (Menemsha Films), which will stream on Kino Lorber’s Virtual Cinema.It’s a biopic about Bert Traumann, as played by David Kross, about a German soldier and prisoner of war who becomes Manchester City’s goalkeeper, much to the consternation of the soccer team’s thousands of Jewish fans. It leads up to the team’s victory at the 1956 FA Cup Final that finally gets him fans. I’m also kind of interested in the historic epic The Legend of Tomiris (Well GO USA), which seems to be getting a digital only release, but I honestly haven’t heard peep about the movie’s release other than the fact it’s opening. That’s not good.

Another movie I was hoping to catch but there were JUST TOO MANY DAMN MOVIES! was Brea Grant’s 12 Hour Shift (Magnet Releasing), which stars Angela Bettis, and it’s a 1998 thriller set in an Arkansas hospital where a junkie nurse, her scheming cousin and a group of black market organ-trading criminals get caught up in heist that goes wrong.

To be honest, I really just didn’t have much interest in Adriana Trigiani’s Then Came You (Vertical), which actually received Fathom Events screenings before it’s On Demand/Digital release on Friday. It stars daytime talk show host Kathie Lee Gifford (who wrote the screenplay!) with Craig Ferguson, Gifford playing a widow who is travelling the world with her husband’s ashes before meeting Ferguson’s innkeeper. Gee, why on earth would Ed be dubious of a movie starring a daytime talk show host and a former late night television host? Gee, I wonder. I didn’t see it. Maybe it’s great, but nothing less than being paid to watch this movie would get me to watch it, so there we are.

Other movies out this week in some form or another include Rising Hawk (Shout! Studios), The Antenna (Dark Star Pictures), Eternal Beauty (Samuel Goldwyn Films), Tar (1091), Do Not Reply (Gravitas Ventures), The Great American Lie (Vertical), Honey Lauren’s Wives of the Skies (Hewes Pictures) on Amazon Prime on Tuesday, The Call (Cinedigm), Chasing the Present (1091), Haroula Rose’s adaptation of Bonnie Jo Campbell’s Once Upon a River, The Devil to Pay (Dark Star Pictures/Uncork’D Entertainment), and something called Alien Addiction (Gravitas Ventures). I’m sure there’s some good stuff in there, and congrats to the filmmaker for finishing a movie and getting it released but… and you may have heard this before… THERE ARE TOO MANY FUCKING MOVIES!!!!

A couple festivals starting this week includes the 43rd Asian American International Film Festival, which runs from October 1 through 11, and it seems to include a pretty impressive line-up of features and shorts, and though I haven’t seen many, the one I’m highly recommending again (as I have when it played other festivals) is the doc Far East Deep South.

Also, American Cinematique’s Beyond Fest starts this Friday at the Mission Tiki Drive-In in Montclair, California, running from October 2 though October 8. It begins with a double feature of the upcoming The Wolf of Snow Hollow (out next week!) paired with The ‘Burbs, then goes into a David Lynch triple feature of Blue Velvet, Mulholland Drive and Lost Highway on Saturday and Saint Maud (a chronically delayed theatrical release) with the classic Misery on Sunday. Monday gets a double feature of new movies in Synchronic and Bad Hair.

Also, the Woodstock Film Festival begins this week, running from Weds. through Sunday, with screenings at the Greenville Drive-In, Overlook Drive-In and Woodstock Drive-In as well as an online component. Highlights include The Father (Opening Night on Thursday, October 1) and the Closing Night film is Chloe Zhao’s Nomadland, starring Frances McDormand on Sunday night. You can get tickets and more information on Eventive.

What it comes down to is that there are just too many fucking movies. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. This shit has gotta stop, because there’s no way any single movie can get any attention when so many are being dumped to digital/streaming/VOD/virtual cinema each week.

Next week, more movies not in New York City theaters, which will probably never reopen the way things are going.

#TheWeekendWarrior #Movies #Reviews #VOD #Digital #Streaming #OnTheRocks #SofiaCoppola #SaveYourselves #BoysInTheBand #Spontaneous #TheGlorias #SnoBabies #2067

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deadcactuswalking · 5 years

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REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 12th May 2019 (Logic & Eminem, Shawn Mendes, Lewis Capaldi)

We have a bunch of new arrivals this week, most of which are big-name debuts within the top 20, so safe to say we have another busy week on our hands. Let’s get it.

Top 10

One of my biggest surprises on this chart is that the top five is still relatively stable, and Stormzy’s “Vossi Bop” is still at the number-one spot, even though I thought it’d collapse like Dave and Fredo’s “Funky Friday” did after it debuted at the top due to insane streaming. Despite my expectations, it’s fine. It’s still here. Speaking of...

“Old Town Road” by Lil Nas X and later remixed by both Billy Ray Cyrus and Diplo, and possibly Young Thug(?), hasn’t moved from the runner-up spot from last week.

Lewis Capaldi had a good week here – even his single “Grace” that has been mostly stagnant increased three spaces elsewhere – but he places twice in the top 10. The first appearance here is for “Someone You Loved”, rebounding a singular position up to number-three.

His other appearance within the top 10 is right here, funnily enough, as he makes a consecutive appearance here at number-four, with the debut of “Hold Me While You Wait”, Capaldi’s third top 40 hit in the UK as well as his second top 10 and top five hit.

At number-five, up one spot from last week, is “bad guy” by Billie Eilish.

Meanwhile at number-six, we have MEDUZA and Goodboys with “Piece of Your Heart” down one space from last week.

I’m surprised at how Taylor Swift’s “ME!” with Brendon Urie of Panic! at the Disco essentially just collapsed entirely as it drops down four spaces to number-seven. Yes, it’s still in the top 10, but it’s worrying how quickly this is dropping down; The UK doesn’t count radio in its charts so I suppose it’s impressive that such a radio-targeted song is doing so well on sales and streaming, but I’d chalk that up to YouTube.

Meanwhile, at number-eight, “SOS” by the late Avicii featuring vocals from Aloe Blacc is down one spot from last week.

We have yet another top 10 debut as “If I Can’t Have You” by Shawn Mendes makes its chart premiere at number-nine (Noticeably lower than its #2 debut in the US), becoming his ninth UK Top 40 hit and his sixth to reach the top 10.

At #10, to round off the top 10, we have “Just You and I” by Tom Walker slowly making its way out down two spaces. It’ll probably have a bit of a comeback next week.

Climbers

Naturally, due to the nature of this week’s business, we don’t have many songs being able to make room for themselves on the charts – by that I mean we have one notable enough climb, and it’s “Sixteen” by Ellie Goulding up five spaces to #31.

Fallers

I would like to say these are a different story, but there are less than I expected. Going from the top, we have expected yet arguably slightly premature losses for Khalid and P!nk’s “Talk” and “Walk Me Home”, down six and five spaces respectively to #20 and #21. I think their runs have been long enough, although I expected “Walk Me Home” to smash considering the top 10 debut, but it’s since faded away and has just been fodder in the top 20 for a while. We also have consecutive losses for mediocre British hip-hop, as Digga D’s “No Diet” is down seven spaces to #27, right next to JAY1’s “Your Mrs” down five to #28. Otherwise, we have mostly continued losses, including “Don’t Call Me Up” by Mabel down five to #32, “i’m so tired...” by LAUV and Troye Sivan down seven to #33, “Boy with Luv” by BTS featuring Halsey down eight to #37 (I’m surprised it’s lasted this long), and sadly, “Disaster” by Dave featuring J Hus down seven to #40.

Dropouts & Returning Entries

First of all, I’d like to note “wish you were gay” by Billie Eilish has dropped out from #35 to not even in the top 75 due to streaming cuts. That’s how detrimental they can be to a song’s success over here, although that song was already on its way out. Anyways, we don’t have any returning entries, but we do have some drop-outs – quite a few – but all to be expected, really. “Let Nature Sing” by the RPSB is out from #18 but it’s a charity birdsong single, I’m just surprised it’s still at #63. We’ve just got three others, and those are quite literally last week’s bottom three. All of these dropping out from #38, #39 and #40, we have “Let Me Down Slowly” by Alec Benjamin featuring a duet with Alessia Cara, “Shallow” by Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper, and finally, “Wow.” by Post Malone. New arrivals time.

NEW ARRIVALS

#34 – “M.E.N. II” – Bugzy Malone

Produced by Zdot

Now for some brief backstory. This is a sequel track to Bugzy Malone’s 2015 track “M.E.N.” that directly interpolates the prior single to reflect on how far his career has changed from the year he released that single. Looking at the album charts, you can really tell as his last EP debuted at #4 in 2017 and his 2018 album at #8, but Bugzy Malone, despite being one of the key grime MCs to form the modern, trap-influenced style and become less commercially focused as they were in the early 2010s, has never made the top 40 until now. This is his first UK Top 40 hit, despite a few close calls and even an album bomb, in which none of the tracks touched the top 50. He has since built up a lot of hype, clearly, collaborating with the likes of Rag ‘n’ Bone Man, but is the music any good? Well, I’m not familiar with much of Bugzy at all, I’ve only heard a few singles here and there, but I’ve never been all too impressed, although I have been listening to the poppier, charting stuff. Maybe I would appreciate a return to its roots more, and you know what, to an extent, I do. The upbeat synth is quite cloudy but allows for a fun, bouncy flow over an admittedly stilted drum beat that feels very generic although definitely more fast-paced than what I’m used to hearing on the charts. I do appreciate Bugzy Malone’s introspective lyrical content, where he looks back on his come-up and has some very specific details in how he made it, with eerie synths shrouding his blunt vocal delivery in an odd mystery, which seems unfitting considering Bugzy Malone’s lyrics are quite hard-hitting; A lot of the instrumentation feels too sparse and spacey, in fact, for such a personal and intimate song talking about struggle with religious worship and beliefs, experience with cocaine since he observed his friends slowly suffer from the abuse of the drug, relationship issues where Bugzy feels like he needs to overly compensate for the lack of attention and speaking on how he wouldn’t mind dying and going out as a legend of Manchester if that’s what it takes for respect. With a beautifully-sang outro in what I’m assuming is Bugzy himself in a falsetto, it really should be more than what it is, but he struggles to stick to a topic at once sometimes and often the beat is less intense than it really should be. This is still good, but I’m not entirely sure if it’ll have any longevity.

#18 – “Guten Tag” – Hardy Caprio and DigDat

Produced by JT and CallMeTheKidd

Oh, hey, another relatively non-notable UK drill/trap song that debuts into the top 20 inexplicably, is expected to drop off quickly, sticks around for way too many weeks before it’s cut down by the streaming chart rules in the UK. This one is by two familiar faces though, Hardy Caprio and DigDat, who have both charted once or twice before and have both been incredibly uninteresting. This is Caprio’s fourth Top 40 hit and first Top 20, whilst it’s DigDat’s second of both – and this one might just be a tad weirder and a tad more unique than any other UK trap song that could have debuted this week. There’s no chorus at all, barely even anything resembling it other than how a refrain is kind of implemented into an intro and outro, and it takes only a couple bars for an odd Family Guy/The Cleveland Show reference to talk about the cocaine he’s trafficking, because, well, sure. The beat is fantastic, it has got a summery tropical vibe in its breezy synths and flutes but it’s immediately drowned out by the insanely dark and heavy 808s and sub-bass, which sound great. Caprio and DigDat flow well over it, and the slight tinge of guitars that appear throughout the beat are so cool, especially when they’re used to build up to the chorus in an otherwise menacing section of just bass and the skittering trap percussion and it can only be heard in the left channel. It really shows how any natural, lively instrumentation is distant from the intense and tragic lives of UK drill musicians, I suppose. This is really good, actually, I’m surprised. Sure, the lyrical content is nothing to speak of, ut that doesn’t matter when the beat is this interesting and the vocal inflections are this powerful. Check this out, I’d recommend it, even if just for that beautiful watery synth melody and the incredible flute in the outro.

#15 – “Homicide” – Logic featuring Eminem

Produced by Bregma and Shroom – Peaked at #4 in New Zealand and #5 in the US

God, where do I even start with this one? Okay, well, since none of the other singles from Confessions of a Dangerous Mind took off, Logic essentially put on Hot 100 Easy Mode and got an Eminem feature while rushing something at the beginning to make sure you knew it was a Logic song as well. Hence, he got the second biggest hit of his career. This is Logic’s third UK Top 40 and top 20 hit, and I’m not even going to count Eminem’s, he has way too many to even start trying at this point. Let’s just take this one step by step because there’s a lot to unravel here. First of all, we have Logic’s dad Smokey Hall telling an obviously scripted reverb-drowned joke with some fake laughter. If that’s really how Logic laughs, then I’m scared for his life. Logic’s dad REALLY sounds like Logic, though, like they’re nearly identical, especially when they both laugh in unison. The joke isn’t funny either, and it’s just kind of painful to sit through, especially with little drowning it out other than the beat warming up. The beat by itself is actually just kind of okay, but definitely is menacing when you hear the intimidating bells and pair them with Logic and Eminem’s rapid-fire flows. Logic’s verses sure are... Logic verses from 2019? They’re incredibly generic, although I do like the Eminem references and Logic’s flow and vocal delivery is on point, until...

(In a weird voice) When I rap like this, do I sound like s***? / Well, it don’t really matter, ‘cause I’m killin’ this s***

Uh, Eminem, you must have heard Logic’s verse, right? You admitted on “Not Afraid” that the use of the dumb accents on Relapse was pointless and unnecessary, so why are you letting Logic do them? His voice is even more nasal here, and I’m still baffled by how little self-awareness he seems to have here. No one is criticising Logic for rhyming words with themselves, they’re criticising his subject matter, so rhyming a phrase with itself four or five times isn’t a valid argument against these critics, because you don’t know their argument in the first place. Also, I’m not letting Logic anywhere near my baby, especially if it is in fact true that he does have rabies.

There’s nowhere to hide, we call this s*** genocide

No, you don’t. The song’s called “Homicide”.

We gon’ leave ‘em crucified, we call this s***...

Homicide.

...genocide

God damn it, Bobby, can’t you get anything right? Okay, well, the criticism of autotuned mumble rappers makes no sense considering how shallow his criticisms are and how he himself has focused on the exact subject matter he mocks for the past two years, and only that subject matter, as well as the extensive use of autotune on Bobby Tarantino II – the only hit single from the tape, “Everyday” with Marshmello, owes a lot to it. He then talks about how if he’s calling himself the greatest ever, he must come with the best raps, and then he repeats a couple words, has some filler, but honestly the monotonous droning of the sub bass and darker synth tones really add to the pure aggression of Logic’s distorted yelling by the end of his second verse.

Honestly, all of the lyrical content can be forgiven because at no point does the momentum of the track come to a halt, especially when Eminem comes in and feels like himself again. All these forced 2018 Slim Shadyisms aren’t there, or at least harder to spot, so it just feels like Eminem with Slim Shady-like vengeful tendencies but more importantly a passionate, violent rapper who loves what he’s doing and wants to prove himself as the best to ever do it, which is all I want from Eminem. His rhyme schemes are complex and insane, his baseball wordplay is fantastic and continues for a much longer time than I initially thought, which is impressive. He has some quotables about farm animals, specifically sheep and dogs, continuing the metaphor he started on Boogie’s “Rainy Days”, that he is the violent wolf or dog who leads a pack of sheep. I love Eminem’s verse and I’ll take anything I can get from Logic, so after Eminem talks about bringing the fingerless gloves back (Yeah, remember those?) he has a couple more bars before finally killing the song’s momentum by abruptly ending the beat and his verse entirely, because he’s too good for it. This is the Eminem I love, this is the Eminem I wanted out of Kamikaze but wasn’t treated to. Eminem on trap beats can work fantastically, and if anything, this just proves that Eminem still isn’t even on a comparative level to those he inspired. Oh, yeah, and the outro is a Chris D’Elia skit sampled from Twitter or something that mimics Eminem’s rhyme scheme. It’s funny for about 10 seconds, but not for nearly a whole bloody minute as that’s how long they keep it for. Yeah, okay, that was unnecessary, and does kill the momentum more than Logic ever could. I guess I’m revealing my inner Eminem fanatic here, but God, do I love his verse, and I feel with a better Logic verse (The hook is great by itself, and the beat is fitting enough), this could have been 10/10 territory, honestly, but even without that, his verse works in the most primal, violent way it could have possibly worked with, so I’m not complaining, in fact, this is probably the best new arrival here. Honestly, I’m just glad it’s not “Lemon Drop”. Now for some boring pop singers, I guess. Did you realise none of these new arrivals have been females? Yeah, none of them are. Three out of five are hip-hop as well. Interesting.

#9 – “If I Can’t Have You” – Shawn Mendes

Produced by Scott Harris, Mark Williams & Volta, Shawn Mendes, Nate Mercereau and Teddy Geiger – Peaked at #2 in the US

Apparently this song needs five producers. Okay, what is this, “SICKO MODE”, or did we really need five producers? Did all of these producers seriously contribute enough for a full credit and not a co- or additional production credit? Ah, well, that’s nitpicking. I’ve talked about the stats before, but this is Mendes’ highest-peaking song ever in the US and it seems to have just been a massive smash hit everywhere, and it will be even bigger once radio picks up on it. What have I heard about the track before peeping this new song? Well, I see that everyone loves it, and I understand why. It’s really upbeat and Mendes’ performance, albeit breathy, is really powerful and intense. The bassline is pumping and the guitars are nice and tropical, but I can’t feel like I would have found this more refreshing in 2016. What I’m saying is that this is bland and tasteless, and I now understand why there’s five producers. It’s overproduced to hell and back, or at least that’s how I see it. There’s reverb absolutely EVERYWHERE, as if it’s a Post Malone deep cut, and the vocals are in the front of the mix so the instrumentals in the back of the mix just end up piling into a pile of mush. The multi-tracking in the first chorus sounds like a choir of Shawn Mendes, but it ends up sounding like Shawn Mendes breaking the microphone. That freaking piano part as well, it’s so tackily added in, especially since the video uses it as a focal point. Has this had any actual arrangement before the CDs were burnt and the vinyl records were pressed (Yes, they made them, because that’s the only way this got #2 in the US)? My friend said this sounded like royalty-free vlog music, and yeah, that’s a pretty solid description, except there’s no ukulele... I pray to God an acoustic version of this song with a ukulele gets released. Yeah, this is just tepid, saccharine and uninspired, I don’t see the praise. Sorry.

#4 – “Hold Me While You Wait” – Lewis Capaldi

Produced by Lewis Capaldi, Edward Holloway, Nick Atkinson and TMS – Peaked at #1 in Scotland and Ireland

Speaking of the devil, here’s more pop that I’ll find embarrassingly dull and saccharine, except this time it’s going to be a gruelling piano ballad because that’s all Capaldi does. He’s not the first, we’re just feeling a lack of Ed Sheeran right now and when he comes back, this dude will be off the charts, hopefully forever. What a talentless, putrid hack. Okay, maybe he isn’t talentless, he can sing, sure. He doesn’t know where to sing, though, because he does borderline spoken word in this raspy voice over once again, just a boring piano melody like his last one, a freaking Zedd alarm clock ticking in the background, and Lewis Capaldi sounding like a frog sobbing over its grandfather that had just flatlined. He sounds strained and he just repeats that “My love”, it gets on my nerves. It’s not intense or intimate, it is aggravating and I never want to hear it again. This is borderline unlistenable to me and I can’t even figure out exactly why, I can’t pin-point it, but it’s just assault on my ears, with the incessant layers of background vocals haunting me as I try and find some solace in the strings, but the last note has to be Capaldi vomiting up his kale yogurt from the night before. Disgusting waste of studio time, and what an overbearing, sickeningly overproduced piece of gutter trash that even Sheeran would spit on and give to his cats. I hope to see this guy fall naturally out of public consciousness before I get much more repulsed of him than I already am.

Conclusion

Should be obvious here – Worst of the Week goes to Lewis Capaldi for whatever the hell that three minutes and 26 seconds was, with Dishonourable Mention going to Shawn Mendes for “If I Can’t Have You”. Logic and Eminem grab Best of the Week for “Homicide”, whilst Honourable Mention is going to Hardy Caprio and DigDat for “Guten Tag”. Yeah, I know, I’m surprised too. Follow me on Twitter @cactusinthebank for more pop music ramblings and Top 20 rankings, and I’ll see you next week!

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