#i know its harder to swing a post-attack relationship but i do think its possible given how intense everything is

[good-beanswrites]

I wanted to bring up a silly ship idea. Just for fun.

03, 06, 09, 10

Was this before Kotoko attacked them? After? I dunno.

Thoughts?

YES the cringefail 20yo polycule 👏👏👏 Thank you for the request! I've seen a lot about the individual pairs, so it was really fun to think about all their dynamics together! I have a set of hcs that could work in the current canon Milgram, and then a normal au set because it's so fun thinking about them :3

Milgram-focused

The I’m-a-loner-who’s-doing-it-for-justice-don’t-TOUCH-me pair finally meet their match when confronted with the I-loved-someone-so-much-and-don’t-plan-on-stopping pair. They all go into the relationship with grand ideas of love: they think it’s all heroic acts of saving, massive gestures or love, and dramatic confessions. Over time, they realize the real heroism/romance is in the little things. 

Mahiru has her hands full with three people who neglect themselves for the sake of their work/interests, but she always loves feeding them and helping give them what they need. In turn, they can give her more affection and attention than she could ever ask for. They make sure someone is always around to spend time with her.

Each of the three is a perfect match for dealing with John’s reveal. Mahiru is calming and helps tone down Mikoto’s initial stress. Fuuta is honest and will help Mikoto finally confront his own situation and move forward. And since Kotoko can match his strength, Mikoto doesn’t need to be afraid of accidentally hurting anyone. Mikoto becomes less stressed with the overall situation as well as more accepting of himself/John.

I always love the idea that Fuuta is secretly starstruck by Kotoko and John’s strength. He’ll never admit how much he admires their ability to stand up and fight. He feels really safe around them. He’s glad to have the opportunity to fight for someone else, too – he likes to be Mahiru’s self-proclaimed protector and hero. (Even though most of the time she can stand up for herself, she still likes letting him take care of her.)

Kotoko’s experiences let her hold solid conversations with everyone. She’s similar enough to Fuuta where they share some interests (social issues, schooling, etc.) She understands hard work and burnout to earn Mikoto’s respect. She understands physical strength to earn John’s. She has a lot of people-knowledge, so she can gossip and talk about Tokyo life to Mahiru (Mappi’s doing most of the ‘gossiping,’ but Kotoko has solid additions). She's a good listener and has a good memory, so everyone feels heard by her.

They start to rub off on each other. Mahiru and Mikoto learn to be a bit tougher in standing up for herself. Fuuta, John, and Kotoko learn to take a breath before jumping right to violence. They stay very much who they are, but pick up on just a few habits that make their lives easier.

Their styles also influence one another: Fuuta gets pointers from all three about piercing his ears (though it takes him a long time to get up the nerve to do it). Mahiru helps the others dress more trendy and boost their confidence, and they teach her to worry less about her appearance and relax more. 

If they get together T1, Kotoko is shocked by the T1 verdicts. She might pull away from everyone in initial horror, but after developing a relationship ahead of time, she doesn’t follow through with her attacks. If not, then maybe in T3 when Kotoko is suffering from her guilty verdict, Mahiru and Mikoto are able to bridge the gap and develop a friendship, leading to more. Fuuta would take longer to come around, but I think seeing Kotoko got through the same pain as him, his hero instincts would kick in and he’d gradually help. 

Normal-au

Mahiru once again tries out her lovers’ interests, and gets a bunch of new hobbies. Fuuta teaches her to game, she works out with Kotoko, and she tries out photography with Mikoto. She becomes close with Fuuta’s beautician sister, and enjoys bonding over fashion and hair. She helps redye Mikoto’s hair, and give the other two pointers on style now and then. When going to nicer events, she and Mikoto have to step in and stop the others from their sneaker/hoodie combos. As the only one with a license, she’s the designated driver at all events, but doesn’t mind. 

Fuuta uses his tech skills to set up social media accounts for the others. He helps Mahiru network her flower shop, fighting anyone who leaves a bad comment/review. He helps set up a complex online portfolio for Mikoto. He and Kotoko still have a passion for justice, and he becomes the tech brains behind her vigilante operations (very Ron Stoppable - Kim Possible) It’s not necessarily healthy growth, but they’re happy with it lmao

Mikoto is the only full-time worker, the others are all still in university, and he makes sure to keep them all on track. He knows the most efficient tricks and cheats about getting papers done, pulling all-nighters, and cramming before an exam. The others have learned to spot when he’s burning himself out for others, and will stop him when he tries to take on too much. They’ll take care of him and force him to rest. While he can still get into a bit of trouble, John learns to call them first and get some help. 

Kotoko has trained herself to find people and information easily to catch criminals, but she finds use for it in much more mundane ways – she tracks down clients for Mahiru, snoops around Mikoto’s company to make sure he’s being treated right, and keeps an eye out for the people Fuuta is calling out and/or hanging out with. She goes on runs with Mahiru, and bike rides with Mikoto. Fuuta tags along sometimes to strengthen his legs for soccer. 

There’s definitely potential for them all to have their murders pre- or mid- relationship, and they help one another improve themselves and heal. I’m also a sucker for the relationship itself to cause them to change their ways and narrowly avoid the murder in the first place. (For the latter, Mahiru would ironically be the last to join the relationship, since she’d still be with her bf until the other three inspire her to break it off with him gently.)

#milgram #fuuta kajiyama #mahiru shiina #mikoto kayano #john milgram #kotoko yuzuriha #you got a peek at some in the first set but i cleaned them up and finally finished the second set >:3 #thank you for waiting asdfdsf these were really fun to think about :D #im loving the image of the four workout buddies asdfdsf #and id imagine their home is filled with photos as mikoto and mappi take a bunch of everyone :') #even in milgram i can see them snapping lots of shots #i know its harder to swing a post-attack relationship but i do think its possible given how intense everything is #just as prisoners were friends one day in t1 and enemies the next in t2 i think things can change fast #and yeah... im so sappy over them all picturing these massive gestures of love: #beating someone up to protect their lover - gifting them something elaborate - saving them from a burning building - planning an exotic dat #and instead they find that preparing a meal after a long day means the world to them #getting up early to workout and keep them company is huge #remembering little details about them and their interests changes their lives #<333 #OUGH now i just want them to be happy ;---; #headcanon time milgram

[sushiburritonoms]

I've been having terrible writer's block lately, not enjoying anything I've written, not getting anywhere with WIPs. Poor @darkisrising and @bronze-lorica have had to talk me off edges lately (thanks guys you're the best!). I think I finally have a chapter 3 for Sacred Texts but I'm sitting on it for a while to see if that's the direction I really want to go. I'm soooo sorry for the delay.

In the meantime I was looking through my notes for The Father the Son and the Exile and I found a bunch of scenes I wrote and abandoned as the fic moved in different directions. I figured I'd post some of them because they'll never see the light of day otherwise and because I have nothing else to offer right now.

Originally in Exile, Din and Luke were supposed to make it to Tython. I had them meeting up with Han AND Leia on the planet Ajan Kloss (its the planet Luke and Leia train on in TROS). Its interesting looking back at this, Din and Luke have a different dynamic since I wrote this a long time ago back in March when the story was going in a different direction (I also wrote an homage to one of Writer Owl's fics in the dialogue). I enjoy playful Luke, I don't really write him that often and that's a real shame. Anyways here's wonder wall, enjoy!

Ajan Kloss  was a swampy humid hellhole of a planet that no rational, sentient being should visit, let alone enjoy. Of course that meant that Grogu and Luke were comfortable in the sticky humid environment. In fact there was a rare smile stretched across Luke's face and he sounded almost nostalgic as he talked around their campfire.

“There’s a certain type of moss that grows on the trees here that’s edible.”

Din refused to look up at Luke from where he was cleaning their meal.  “I’m not drinking any tea you make out of it.”

“It’s more of a garnish?”

Din sighed. “Don’t touch my fish.” He forcefully stuck a stick lengthwise through the fish as an emphasis.

“Grogu should really have more vegetation in his diet. Master Yoda used to eat plants.”

Din snorted. “You’re welcome to try.” It wasn’t like the kid never ate vegetables but they were always fried and covered in spices. That probably wasn’t what Luke was getting at.

“Maybe later. He did eat two whole frogs.”  Luke edged himself closer to the fire. “Maybe after this we could swing by Dagobah. You know, assuming we’re not about to trigger some sort of sneak attack or trap. There are tubers I could dig up for him that Master Yoda ate, plus I could pick up more gnarltree bark.”

Din blinked and raised his head up to properly look at Luke. He knew what Luke was doing. He was trying to distract himself with thoughts of the future. It was a tactic Din often used himself--strategize every possible outcome in the hopes the future won’t be as terrifying as it feels.

On the one hand, he was amused and touched by Luke’s continued fixation on Grogu’s eating habits, even if it was hypocritical of Luke given his own poor diet.  It reminded Din of some of the older members of the Covert that used to watch Din when he was little. They always used to harass him to eat everything offered to him and gave him sharp nudges when he tried to skip directly to the occasional sweet treat left out for all the foundlings to share. It was very Mandalorian of Skywalker and it felt good. Familiar.

On the other hand, Din really, really didn’t want any more tree bark in the Wayfinder. So Din didn’t really know what to say.

“Hold this.” Din shoved a fish skewer into Luke’s hand. Yeah that worked.

Luke took the skewer with a hint of a smile.  “Master Yoda used to eat certain mushrooms too, I think I can safely identify them. Or maybe I could put together an aquarium in the Wayfinder and we could take more frogs with us. I bet I can repurpose one of the smaller cloning cylinders I have in the back and add a filtration system...”

Din shuddered at the thought  of living with a cloning vat filled with frogs and the likelihood of frogs, moss and tree bark for dinner several nights a week.  Just no. “This is why our people are ancient enemies,” he shuddered. “You live like animals.”

There was silence. Too long of a silence. Din looked up.

Luke was staring at him with a shocked look on his face. “Our people are ancient enemies?” He whispered.

Ah kriff. Din winced. “So I’ve heard.”

“....Oh.”  Luke looked crushed.  “Nobody told--well. There’s a lot nobody told me,” he sighed. “About being a Jedi.”

Damn damn damn. Din wanted to throw his hands up in the sky.

“I guess that makes sense,” Luke mumbled. He was fiddling with the fish skewer in his hands. “All the other Mandalorians I’ve ever met have tried to capture or kill me. I thought it was just the Bounty…”

“I’m not like other Mandalorians.”  Din interrupted, desperate to turn the conversation. It was technically true, probably just not in a way that helped their relationship. Er--their partnership?  Their--whatever this was.

“I mean I like you…”

Din froze. What.

“You’re really good at fishing and Grogu loves you.  I’d hate to have to kill you.”

Din’s heart restarted in his chest again.  Was Luke...messing with him?   “You wouldn’t leave a mark.”

Luke blinked up at him innocently and fluttered his damn eyelashes.  “I could totally kill you in your sleep.”

The little shit!  “I’ll poison your tea.”

“It’s pretty much already poison. I’m immune.”

Heh, true.  “Your fish then.”

“I’ll just go grab a frog.”

“You’re staying here and eating my damn fish!”

Luke burst out into sudden loud laughter.  It was like a sudden fierce rainstorm in the way it showered over the camp. It startled Grogu, who had been ignoring both of them in favor of playing with some shiny rocks nearby.  He tilted his head and then matched Luke’s laughter with a baby chuckle of his own.

“Sorry! I think it's just my nerves talking but that just sounded wrong and so funny--”

Din just shook his head. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what had set Luke off but he didn’t care. “Crazy Jedi.”

“Trigger happy Mandalorian.”  Luke gave him a giant smile.  “Hurry up and finish this.” He gave Din back the fish skewer and chuckled again.  Despite his comment about his nerves, Luke’s shoulders were relaxed and his legs were spread out comfortably by the fire. Din could stare at his lopsided smile all evening, especially as the sun set and the fire highlighted the delight in his eyes. The sun shone through the lighter parts of Luke’s shaggy long hair. It was now untied from the neat bun it had started in and looked soft and golden in the light.

Stars above help him.  Luke was beautiful.  Din was tired of denying the thought. He wanted to touch Luke’s face with his bare hands, run his fingers through his hair and that was terrifying. He hadn’t wanted to take off his armor for anyone, besides Grogu, in ages. Maybe with Omera...but this was much different. The feelings he’d had for her were a momentary weakness compared to the colossally bad idea this was to develop an attraction for this damaged Jedi.  Din had no idea what tomorrow was going to bring.  Even if nothing happened, there was the uncertainty of the next day and the next to worry about. Luke was a marked man and every day there was a chance something could take him out. Take him away. The thought burned in him like a chemical fire inside a reactor.  Caged deep inside of him, destructive it released, and burning with an intensity greater than Din could stand.

This was why he never got involved with people before he found Grogu. He didn’t know what to do with the intensity of his feelings and how to fit them into his unpredictable life.

“Din?” Luke’s smile fell slightly. “You ok?”

“..Yeah.”  Din did what he always did. He pushed his feelings away and tried to focus on the present.  What had they been talking about? Food. He sat and thought for a moment. Maybe...

“I have a contact on Tatooine, from a rural town few people have heard of. Mos Epsa.”

“Mos Eps--I thought that was wiped from the planet years ago.” Luke looked impressed.

“It’s still there.”  Din handed Luke a cooked fish skewer and settled back with his own. “We could go there, for a while. We’d be safe. I’m assuming we can both eat Tatooine food.”

Luke picked at his fish. “I do miss blue milk.”

Good.  “I’ll add it to the list.”

Luke chuckled. “You have a list?”

“Of safe planets we can stop at. We should have alternatives to the drop pods and not be reliant on the New Republic. My list is probably different from yours so we have more options.” Din stabbed his fish a little harder with his skewer to make his opinion of Luke’s employers known.

The smile on Luke’s face got impossibly wider. “That makes sense...Thank you.”

Din grunted. The smile on Luke’s face was too distracting.  Instead he looked down at his food. Oh. Right. Damn.

Luke made the exact realization at the same time. “Sorry! I forgot, I can go back to the ship--”

“Shut up and sit down, Jetti.” Din shook his head. He only hesitated for a half second before he reached up to his helmet and unlatched it. He opened it wide enough to take a bite.

“Or you could do that. Of course.” Luke babbled.  He turned his head so he wasn’t looking at Din.  Which was sweet. But also meant he wasn’t looking at his food.

“Eat.” Din growled. “All of it.” How was it this hard to feed a grown adult? Grogu gave him less trouble. Gods help Skywalker, Din was about to channel some of the fiercest warriors he knew to get him to eat more.

Luke gave him a mock solute. “Yes sir.”

Din began to reach for his sidearm.

Luke responded with a rather unnecessarily dainty bite of fish.

Din began to unhook his blaster.

Luke nibbled at one edge of a fin.

The blaster powered up.

Luke kriffing licked his fish.

“That’s disgusting.” Din gave up. He couldn’t help it--he chuckled as he powered down his blaster.

“Yeah it is,” Luke stuck his tongue out. “Fish is gross.”

“I thought you said you’d eat anything.”

“I do. I don’t have to like it.  I didn’t grow up eating fish, it’s both slimy and spikey at the same time.”

“You eat frogs.”

“You can eat a small frog in one bite! I’ve gotten fish bones stuck in my throat.”

“You’re not supposed to eat the bones.”

“Nobody told me that the first time. What part of ‘raised on a desert planet’ does no one understand?”

“You’re an idiot.”

Luke sat back. “I’m done now, mom. May I go now?”

Din sighed. “No.” He held out another fish skewer.

“You got to be kidding me.”

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

“How hard is the har--YIKES! NO! LETGO! ARGHHH!!!!!”

‘Yup’, Din thought to himself as he held the struggling, still too skinny, Jedi in a headlock.  He had it bad and he was going to regret this.

Tomorrow. He’ll regret it tomorrow.

“DJARIN LET ME GO NOW OR YOU’RE GOING IN THE SWAMP!”

Here’s hoping the desert boy could swim.

#Still bummed I never used any of this #Luke the frog eater #lives on a diet of moss leaves and swamp dew #Luke was actually less damaged in this version wtf sb #I made it gayer but also angstier #I miss the exile universe so much #may the writers block end and the words flow soon #have i posted this already? #I feel like I have argh idk #I still like it #The Father the Son and the Exile #sb fics

[perfeggso]

Noir (yutae)

Week IV pt. 2

Tokyo – fall of 1983: Nakamoto Yuta is quickly rising in the ranks of one of Japan’s most notorious yakuza families, and he’s poised to climb even further if he can stop himself from being ruined by the pretty Korean boy who’s shown up out of nowhere.

Chapter 1  |  Chapter 2  |  Chapter 3  |  Chapter 4  |  Chapter 5  |  Chapter 6  | Chapter 7  |  Chapter 8  |  Masterlist

Glossary of Japanese words

Characters: Yuta x Taeyong + NCT ensemble, Twice J-line (for funsies)

Genres: Gang!AU, angst, smut, fluff, 1980s!AU

Warnings: graphic violence, swearing, minor character death, alcohol use, mentions of drugs, period-typical homophobia, xenophobia, BDSM

Rating: 18+

Length: 6k

In the days that followed, Taeyong declared that he was giving himself three short-term goals.  “Oh yeah?” Yuta asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.  “What would those be?” Taeyong elaborated: Goal number one was for Taeyong to get his friends, new and newer, to help him be a better gangster.  So, Yuta arranged for Sicheng and Yukhei to take Taeyong to the training room for workouts and, once he’d confirmed Taeyong was comfortable with it, to have Ten give him more “lessons.”  Yuta had sat in on their first session, watching in pained silence as Ten used one of his long metal pins to tether Taeyong to the ground through his shoe and then attacked him.  Yuta then enlisted Dejun, Yangyang, and Kunhang to teach Taeyong (and Mark and Jungwoo for good measure – they needed some review) how to follow people effectively and avoid being followed.  According to Taeyong’s recounting, it had been exactly like Yuta’s own training, each of the Inagawa members taking turns slinking around the backstreets of Kabuki-chō and getting critiqued by the Triads afterwards.  Yuta let Taeyong hang around when he discussed strategy and finances with Doyoung, Taeil, Johnny, and Jaehyun.  Taeyong didn’t really understand any of it, nor did he need to, but Yuta figured it was good for him to feel like he was getting the whole picture.

Taeyong’s second goal, he said with almost too much confidence, was to get Yuta to fuck him as much as possible without it becoming a distraction, and it’d been going well for both of them.  Taeyong had slept over at Yuta’s place three out of the last four nights and Yuta started taking a kind of dirty pride in the way his regiment grew used to seeing Taeyong in his clothing.  They’d started experimenting explicitly with dom/sub dynamics and their own kinks, one of Yuta’s favorite moments coming when Taeyong accompanied him home after a long day.  He’d fixed himself a drink and sat, legs spread over his couch and arms elongated over its back, the drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other.  Since that night, Yuta had to stop himself intermittently from getting half-hard at the memory of Taeyong trying to get off grinding on his thigh, Yuta more or less ignoring him as his clothes soaked through with his sweat and he cried in frustration into Yuta’s shoulder for him to just do something – touch him, degrade him, anything.  Yuta even impressed himself with the willpower he’d used to keep Taeyong strung out like that.  So yeah, Taeyong’s second goal was going just fine, Yuta would say.

Goal number three was the most complicated:  It was for Taeyong to make up his mind about what he’d do after the Mitsubishi deal (hopefully) went through.  As promised, Yuta tried to remain removed from Taeyong’s decision making process, even if Taeyong would sometimes come to him with questions.  Would they be able to keep seeing each other? Whether Taeyong stayed or left, they could still be together, Yuta had answered, although part of him worried that if Taeyong left he’d find someone he liked better the minute they no longer shared a lifestyle.  But that wouldn’t be the case if Taeyong left after officially joining, right?  Taeyong had clarified.  If he changed his mind too late?  That’s right, if you leave too late, you leave everything for good.  It’s okay, Yuta had told him, don’t force yourself into a decision until the deal’s been worked out.    

Yuta’s goal, on the other hand, was simply to stay sane and focused, and enjoy everything while it lasted.  Specifically, he wanted to enjoy cooking takoyaki, Osaka’s specialty food, for Taeyong one night after a rare day off, and he wanted Taeyong to enjoy eating it.  He wandered around Taeyong’s kitchen, alternating between muttering to himself and asking Taeyong why the hell it was so hard to find anything in there.  Yuta paused before his metal mixing bowl, trying to remember what the next ingredient for the batter was supposed to be.  

“You sure you don’t want help, babe?” Taeyong asked, and Yuta looked over to where he was sitting on the little table he kept in the kitchen, swinging his legs over the edge and giving Yuta moon eyes.  He almost laughed.  Taeyong had been nervous to have Yuta over, endlessly denigrating his apartment to the point that Yuta would have thought he was being invited over to a literal shack if he hadn’t already seen the building once, so Yuta made a point of fawning over the small space the second he arrived.

“No, darling,” replied Yuta to Taeyong’s question.  “I told you, this is my treat.”

Taeyong shrugged as a new Blondie song started to play from his record player in the living room.  “Suit yourself.”  Yuta stretched his shoulders, finally remembering that the egg was supposed to come next.  He’d learned how to cook from his mom, but that meant that sometimes his recipes were more like distant memories from ten to fifteen years ago.  Yuta hummed along to the music, turning to search for the egg carton in the fridge.

“So, can we go over this one more time so I don’t screw it up?” Taeyong asked.  Yuta was losing track of the number of times Taeyong had already been briefed on their plans for Minatozaki Sana, but if he needed to hear it again to feel secure, Yuta supposed he’d play along.  

“Sure,” Yuta confirmed, cracking one egg into the half-finished batter.  “But there’s really not that much you have to do, Taeyong.  I just told you the whole plan so you won’t be caught off guard by anything.”

Taeyong practically buzzed against the table below him. “Right, so basically I’m going to stand by her door while you and Doyoung convince her to flip on Yamaguchi.  There’s a window in the entryway, so I’ll have an easy view out if anyone comes, but I need to be sure not to be seen from the other end.”

“Exactly,” said Yuta, whisking.  The yellow yolk was swirling into the sticky mixture like streaks in hair.  “I don’t anticipate it taking too long, but I can’t make any promises.  If she resists, you just stay at your post and we’ll deal with her, unless she makes it all the way to her front door or something.”

Taeyong nodded, his legs knocking against the table’s. “What’s ‘not too long?’” he asked.

Yuta thought for a moment.  “Twenty minutes to an hour.”

“Alright.”

“Alright?”  Yuta finished mixing his batter and tapped the butt of the bowl against the counter several times, looking quizzically at Taeyong.  “Is that all clear?  Can we talk about something not work-related now?”

Taeyong smiled.  “Yeah we can,” he agreed, and Yuta let out a sigh of a laugh.  “Like what?  Is gang talk stressing you out?”    

Yuta sniffed the batter.  It smelled like it had enough dashi in it, so he figured it was fine.  Now where did Taeyong keep his soy sauce?  He rattled through Taeyong’s drawers as he answered.

“Honestly, a little bit.  This is the most responsibility I’ve ever been given, and I want it to go well.”

When Yuta looked back to Taeyong, soy sauce triumphantly in hand, Taeyong’s face had contorted to show his own worry.

“Wait, you’re really anxious about it?” he asked.  “I was sorta joking.”

Yuta set the bottle down on Taeyong’s green plastic countertop, making his way to the table.

Taeyong pouted as Yuta’s palms pressed over his soft cheeks.  “I’m a little anxious,” Yuta admitted, a warm feeling flashing through his chest at the sight of Taeyong’s face all squished up, “but I gave you your job description and worrying about my anxiety is not included.  Got it?”

Taeyong smiled sheepishly.  “Got it.”

Yuta let go of Taeyong’s face and returned to his cooking project.  “Just wanted some time together where I didn’t have to worry about work.”  He dumped some of the soy sauce into his batter and started to stir again.  He registered a little giggle coming from Taeyong.

“Anything I can do to help destress you?” he asked slyly.  Yuta mixed harder.

“Yonggie, now is not the time…”

Taeyong just shook his head.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Yuta tried to ignore the not-so-subtle look Taeyong was giving him, opting to divert the conversation to ask where Taeyong’s takoyaki griddle was.  Taeyong hopped off the table, mouthing the words to “Heart of Glass.”

“I’ll get it,” he offered, crouching next to the low cabinet where he kept his pots and pans and extracting the desired item.

“Thanks.”    

Taeyong leaned against his counter and watched Yuta rub oil over and then pour the batter into the six half-spheres in the cast iron griddle.  Yuta inserted the octopus bits, tenkasu , beni shoga , and sauce into the center of each raw takoyaki, conscious of every movement under Taeyong’s sticky gaze but trying to relax by listening to Taeyong’s whispery singing.  Once sufficiently prepped, Yuta brought the griddle over to the table and turned it on, sitting to watch the food cook.  Taeyong sat across from him, laying his head against the wooden tabletop and blinking as heat started to sizzle from the takoyaki.

Yuta sighed, thinking.  Taeyong made him think a lot about a lot of things.  Some of it was serious like, was their relationship sustainable?  Was he blinded by his infatuation and risking too much for someone he’d know for barely more than a month?  Was Taeyong going to end up hurt?  Because if he did, it would be squarely Yuta’s fault.  Mostly though, the thoughts Taeyong prompted in Yuta’s head were less dire but just as invasive.  Yuta felt a rush at how gorgeous Taeyong looked like that, sleepily gazing and allowing himself to receive the care of someone else’s cooking.  On second thought …    

“Hey, so I know I just said now is not the time,” Yuta began, rolling his sleeves up as he registered the room warming and noticing Taeyong’s eyes on his arms, “but there might be something that would help me destress.  But uh, you might think it’s a little early, I’m not sure.”

Taeyong sat up, smiling.  “Oh?”  

“I think it would be fun to spend a night at a love hotel,” Yuta admitted, and a splotch of oil jumped out of the griddle as if to punish him for being pushy.  “ Ita !”  

Taeyong just grinned.  “Yuta,” he began, crossing his arms over the table, “why is that such a big deal?”

Yuta sighed, feeling like he was about to get laughed at.  “Because, I don’t want to take you to just any love hotel,” he explained.  He figured he’d gotten himself this far, he might as well finish digging his own grave. “I want to take you to the Alpha Inn.”  To his surprise, Taeyong didn’t laugh, nor did he look confused; his grin only stretched wider, giving him crow’s feet around his eyes. Yuta wondered if he needed to clarify what he’d said.  “It’s –”

“I know what the Alpha Inn is,” Taeyong blurted.

Yuta felt his face go small, the sizzling of the takoyaki turning to static in his ears.  “Oh, then why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because,” Taeyong explained, “I was waiting for you to tell me why you were being weird about it.”

“Oh,” Yuta repeated, and Taeyong pressed on.

“So why were you?  I mean, we’ve already kind of established that we both like that kind of thing, right?”

Yuta was beginning to feel like a first-class idiot.  “Yeah,” he tried to backtrack, “but I think it’s a bit different from anything we’ve discussed.  There are whips and stuff on the walls there and…”

Yuta hadn’t managed to finish his sentence before Taeyong was laughing in his face.

“Yuta,” he said, “have you been there before?”

“Yeah, I have,” Yuta explained, growing indignant, “but you’re different too.”  Taeyong’s eyes rounded in curiosity.  “You are! I haven’t had many relationships so when I’ve gone there it’s been, like, with hookups who are there for a specific purpose.”

Taeyong wiggled his eyebrows.  “And what if I told you I’d been there with hookups before too?”

Yuta let out a breath of relief, settling into a more self-assured comportment.  He honestly should have figured.  Taeyong seemed to notice the change in Yuta’s body language, because he wiggled back into his chair, away from the table, and softened his face from the challenging aspect it had taken on before.  Yuta smiled in satisfaction.  “Then, I wouldn’t worry about anything but us enjoying ourselves,” he answered.

Taeyong smiled to himself as he looked at his hands in his lap.  “So, letting you take me to a BDSM-themed love hotel: that’s what I could do to help you destress before next week.  Glad I got that out of you.”

“But there are some things we need to discuss first,” Yuta said, figuring the takoyaki looked adequately brown and standing to find a couple plates and pairs of chopsticks.

Taeyong nodded.  “Of course.”

Yuta returned, having found what he was looking for with surprising ease.

“First of which being that we have to change up the title, ‘kay?”  He sat and turned the griddle off, using his metal chopsticks to pull out two takoyaki balls.  “No more Shategashira during sex.  I can’t be getting hard every time anyone talks to me at work.”

Yuta slid a plate of food over to Taeyong.  “That’s fair.  What should I call you, then?”

Yuta blew on his dinner.  “Sir?  Does that work?”

Taeyong smiled.  “Yes, sir .”  And Yuta smiled back.

“Perfect,” he remarked, hand reaching out to Taeyong’s hair on instinct. “You’re perfect.”

Taeyong nuzzled into Yuta’s touch, whining when Yuta pulled away.  Yuta was happy to have taken back control of the situation, but he also figured he needed to change the topic of conversation if he was going to be able to focus on his food.  Thankfully, Taeyong did it for him, picking up a ball of takoyaki and holding it near his face, expression contemplative.

“Smells good,” he said.  He blew on it until it had stopped steaming, then nibbled experimentally after a quick "itadakimasu."  Yuta still held off, all too familiar with the treacherousness of eating takoyaki.

“How is it?” he asked as Taeyong broke through to the molten center.  He paused.

“Yuta?” Taeyong began, holding the takoyaki to show off the liquidy center.  He started laughing and Yuta found himself hurled back into embarrassment.  “I don’t think it’s cooked all the way…”

“Shit, sorry!” Yuta spluttered.  “Here, give it back!”

Taeyong guffawed, letting some of the hot but nearly raw batter fall from his mouth to his cupped hand.  “What?”

“Just give it here!”

“Okay…” Taeyong handed over the mangled ball and watched Yuta return it to its iron slot, switching the griddle back on and trying to look competent.

“Guess this will have to do,” he said, placing his own serving back to cook more as well.  Yuta smiled to himself, propping the side of his head against his fist and his elbow on the table.  Taeyong smiled back and said in a small voice,

“I thought you knew what you were doing, Osaka boy.  I’m a good cook, you could have just let me help.”

Yuta shrugged.  “Maybe I oversold myself.  This’ll work though.”

Taeyong made a pained face (“I’m so hungry though”) and Yuta rolled his eyes.  

He became suddenly hyper-aware of the silence framing their conversation, so he got up to switch out the finished album while the food got done cooking.  

“What do you want me to play?”

“Kate Bush!” Taeyong yelled in response.  “’The Dreaming’ should be sitting right next to the record player.”

Yuta replaced “Parallel Lines” with Taeyong’s suggestion, dropped the pin, and returned to the kitchen as “Sat In Your Lap” began to play.  He also realized he forgot the mayo and the bonito for their dinner, and puttered around the kitchen again to find them, feeling like even more of a dumbass than he had for undercooking the food.  The takoyaki came out much better the second time around, and once it had cooled off, it was gone in a fraction of the time Yuta had spent making it.

“Okay, I guess you do know what you’re doing,” Taeyong admitted, his mouth contorting around a particularly large bite.

After eating, Taeyong insisted on doing the dishes.  Yuta took on Taeyong’s former position watching from the table, thinking to himself how lovely he looked in an apron, focused on getting everything spick and span.  Fuck, it was so domestic, and Yuta hadn’t had anything like it in so long.  Yuta was so shaken up about it he felt like the takoyaki in his stomach was trying to bust out through his belly button.

Taeyong glanced at his admirer as he scratched the suds from his hands into the sink.  “Stop looking at me like that,” he said.

For a mobster, Yuta had kind of a bad poker face when he wasn’t focused enough on it.  “Like what?”

“Like you want to…I don’t know, make me a housewife.”

Yuta rested his face in his hands.  “What if I do?”

Taeyong chuckled.  “First of all, that’s quite literally impossible.  Second of all, it makes me feel weird.”

“Weird how?”

Taeyong dried the metal mixing bowl as he spoke.  “Not sure how to explain it,” he said.  “Kind of itchy.  Like I want to hide?”

Yuta tried to calm down so he could stop the fascination from practically dripping over his face.  “Sorry.”

Taeyong put the bowl away.  “S’okay.  I’m also flattered.  Thanks for cooking, by the way – even if I gave you shit about it.”

“Of course.  It was kind of fun.”

Taeyong finished drying off and putting everything away, took off his apron, and suggested they retire to the living room couch to listen to their music.

Yuta sat down and let Taeyong situate himself so that he was lying down, head in Yuta’s lap.  Yuta played with Taeyong’s hair.

“Yuta?”

“Mm?”

Taeyong’s face had an air of stress about it, not like there was anything truly wrong, but more like he had a thought he needed to sort out.

“How did you figure out you liked guys?”

Yuta took a moment to process.  That was not what he expected Taeyong to ask.

“Oh, um, I don’t know, how did you figure it out?”

Taeyong scowled.  “I mean eventually it just sort of became obvious,” he said.

“Exactly,” Yuta confirmed.  “So, that’s not really what you’re asking, is it?”

Taeyong shook his head, skull rocking against Yuta’s thighs.

“Guess not,” he allowed, “How old were you though?  When you realized?”

Yuta pulled a strand of Taeyong’s dark hair until it stood on end.  “I don’t know, late teens probably, when I really sorted it out?” Yuta chuckled, calling upon some well-repressed memories.  “I had tried fooling around with girls at that point, and it wasn’t bad, actually.  I was very sure I was straight.  I liked the girls I was with – had a real fondness for most of them, but it was never very deep.  Momo and I even hooked up once.” Yuta laughed wryly as he watched a look of shock and, maybe jealousy? flicker over Taeyong’s face.  “Don’t worry,” he reassured.  “It was alright for me, but she made it very clear that it was never to happen again.”

Taeyong hummed thoughtfully.  Yuta wanted to grill him back, but it looked like he had another question brewing, so he stayed quiet.  “So, who was the first guy?”

Yuta breathed a laugh.  “Well, he was actually my boss when I was a Kumi-in…”

Taeyong’s eyes lit up. “Like us?”

“Kind of.  He was older though,” Yuta clarified.  He smiled, both in recollection and in amusement as he registered the dissonance between Kate Bush’s wailing singing and their quiet conversation.  “I remember thinking to myself, oh, now I know what this whole thing is supposed to feel like.”  By “thing” he meant to express the nebulous concept of attraction, love, relationships, lust; all those intangibles which tug at the heartstrings.  He hoped Taeyong would understand despite his lack of eloquence.  “He was the one who convinced me to go to the Alpha Inn the first time, but, uh, I was the one taking the orders back then.”

“What happened to him?” asked Taeyong, twisting the hem of his shirt in his hands.  

“He decided this life wasn’t for him, so he left.  And, you know, if you do that you get excommunicated, banished – whatever you want to call it – so I haven’t heard from him since.”

Taeyong looked like he wanted to say something, then didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” he said instead.  

The apology made a pang of guilt run through Yuta.  Here he was telling the sob story of his first love in front of poor Taeyong.  If he got uncomfortable hearing about Momo, why would he want to know this?  “Don’t be sorry.  I have you now,” Yuta said with a smile, and he meant it deeply.  

Taeyong sat up and sighed, eyes clouded over. “I just feel like this would be a lot easier if I wasn’t…you know…me.”  

Yuta felt like he had cold water rushing over his skin.  What was Taeyong getting at? “No, I don’t know,” he challenged.  

Taeyong refused to make eye contact and Yuta thought he saw the other man’s skin tone draining a bit grey.  “I keep thinking about Johnny and Mina,” Taeyong tried to explain.  “They seem so normal.  Like, they know what each of them is there for.  I don’t know how to explain it.  I just feel like if I were a woman it’d be easier and make more sense.  I wouldn’t be weirdly wrapped up in your work and having to make all these dire decisions and putting you in danger.  We could just see each other like average people.”

Yuta didn’t know if he wanted to cry or laugh.  He settled instead for gripping Taeyong’s chin with his fingers and forcing their eyes to meet.  “Taeyong,” he said softly, “I think you’re missing the point.”

Taeyong’s eyes looked glassy.  “Which is?”

“Which is that if you were a woman A) we probably wouldn’t have met in the first place, and B) I wouldn’t be as interested in you.” Yuta searched Taeyong’s face, awaiting a response.

“You mean that?” he asked, finally.

Yuta let go of Taeyong’s face.  “I do.  Why would I be lying?”

Taeyong smiled slightly.  “I dunno.  Sometimes you lie for fun.”

“God, Taeyong, not about stuff like this.”

“Alright,” Taeyong said, letting his smile extend and settling his back more squarely into the couch cushions.  “Sorry for being so insecure.”

Yuta took Taeyong’s hand.  “You and me both, baby.”

“Houdini” started to play and Taeyong closed his eyes, mentioning absently that it was his favorite song on the album.  When it was over, he spoke again.

“Mina warned me at the party,” he said, and Yuta was put on immediate alert by the threatening vagueness of the statement.  “Back at Johnny’s bar, we started talking.  She said I should leave as soon as possible and not get sucked in.”

Yuta stiffened, training his eyes on the stains in Taeyong’s rug and making a mental note to bring this up to Johnny.  “Well,” he began, “that’s her opinion.  It’s up to you to make up your own mind.”

“I know.”

Yuta laughed breathily, catching Taeyong’s drift.  “So, she told you that and then you immediately turned around and landed in my lap; let me pull you in deeper.  Was that a sort of decision?”

Taeyong nodded, squeezing Yuta’s hand.  “Maybe.  I just wanted it at the time.  I wanted a real reason to stay.”

Yuta tutted.  “I told you not to make me the clincher for such an important choice.”

“Yeah, but that was after,” Taeyong asserted.  “I think I’d already decided early on, even if I didn’t want to admit it.  Yuta?”

“Taeyong.”

He looked Yuta right in the eyes.  “I’m going to stay.  I invited you over tonight to tell you that I’m sure I want to join the Inagawa-kai.  I just didn’t know how to bring it up until right now.”

Yuta could feel the adrenaline coursing through him, like he was a candle wick being sparked; like he was about to go on a mission.  He was exhilarated at the idea that he’d fully gained Taeyong’s trust and admiration, that they would continue on as they had been; but at the same time, the possibility that Taeyong could get hurt or decide too late that he’d gone down the wrong path made Yuta’s blood run cold.

“You’re sure?”

Taeyong nodded.  “Yeah, I am.”  He looked at Yuta and smiled sideways.  “When do I get initiated?”

Yuta didn’t know how to respond to Taeyong’s sudden burst of self-assuredness.  “Well – uh – the Oyabun won’t let you until our current project is secured –”

Taeyong pouted.

“But!” Yuta had an idea.  “But, but, but, if you want, we can do something fun right now that might help.”  Yuta stood, about to head off to the kitchen until he remembered he didn’t know where anything was.

“What is it?”

Yuta placed a finger in front of his mouth.  “It’s a secret,” he whispered.  “But I need you to help me find some things.”

In a matter of minutes, they were back in the living room, couched in silence with the music having run out and kneeling at either side of Taeyong’s coffee table.  Between them, Yuta had set two empty masu cups, a bottle of amazake (since Taeyong didn’t have normal sake), and the knife that Yuta always carried around with him: medium-size and gunmetal grey with teeth like the one in the Rambo movie that had come out a year before.  Taeyong had stared at it almost in horror when Yuta took it out.

“Okay,” Taeyong said, eyes roaming over their spread.  “Now will you please explain this to me?”

“Sure,” Yuta agreed, grinning at his own creativity.  “So, you said you wanted to be initiated,” he began, “but you can’t technically do that for a bit, so I’m going to give you a little run-through; a rehearsal of sorts that can prepare you for the real thing while also making you feel more official right now.”

Taeyong nodded, looking sold.  “Okay.  What’s the knife for?”

“For when I sacrifice you to Amaterasu,” he deadpanned, and for a moment, Taeyong actually gaped.

“No, I kid,” Yuta said, cracking himself up.  “We’ll get to what the knife’s for in a second.”

Taeyong let out a confused breath, making Yuta laugh even harder.  Once he had contained himself, he went on.

“So, this will be the setup when you’re initiated.  Ideally there’d be witnesses, but you know.”  He shrugged.  “Okay, and you should know that I am standing in for the Oyabun .”

“You’re Goro?” Taeyong clarified.

Yuta nodded, pressing a hand to his chest.  “Yes, I’m Goro, who I don’t think you’ve met yet, by the way.”  Taeyong shook his head in confirmation.  “Soon enough, then.  You’re you, and what we’re going to do first is you’re going to hold out your cup to me and I’ll fill it halfway with sake.”

Taeyong followed directions, prostrating himself ever so slightly as he offered Yuta his cup and watched him pour the cloudy liquid inside.  Then, Yuta did the same with his own cup, passing the halfway point and filling it to the brim, images of his own initiation six years earlier flashing across his vision.  He’d been a baby in an ill-fitting black suit and Goro had looked more imposing to him than usual – like Mt. Fuji on a clear day.  He picked up the knife, remembering the sharp taste of Goro’s blood in a particularly strong batch of sake.

“Now we switch cups,” he instructed, and Taeyong obliged, eyes trained on Yuta’s knife.  They went wide when Yuta positioned his hand over Taeyong’s sake and cradled the blade so that it was invisible in his palm, although the implied pressure and discomfort made Taeyong’s face contort.  Yuta sliced shallowly into his palm, careful to adhere to the lines of his old scar as much as possible.  Taeyong’s gaze followed as a ruby droplet fell and dispersed into the alcoholic liquid.

“We could just get a raspberry or something if you have one and crush it into the other cup,” Yuta teased, “if you don’t want to do this.”  He grinned when Taeyong shook his head quickly.

“No, I can do it, Shategashira .”

“Good.”  Yuta wiped the blood from the knife onto a paper towel and handed the blade to Taeyong, who took it hesitantly.  “Just do the pad of your thumb for now,” Yuta suggested.  Taeyong hissed a bit as he cut into the flesh there and pressed down to force out a rivulet of blood.  Yuta realized he’d made a slight oversight when he registered that each of them now had one bloodied hand.  In the real ritual, this fact would have been ignored, but Yuta was already testing Taeyong and he didn’t want to also stain his nice bamboo cups.

“Gimme a sec,” he said, finding his leather jacket in the entryway and rooting around in it one-handed for another thing he always kept with him: bandage tape.  He called Taeyong into the kitchen and they took turns washing up and covering their self-inflicted wounds.  Yuta registered neutrally the kind of hazy and quiet state Taeyong was in.  Finally, they returned to the coffee table for the next leg of the ritual, starting off by switching their drinks back so Yuta had a full cup with Taeyong’s blood and Taeyong had a half cup with Yuta’s.

“What now?” Taeyong asked.

“Now,” Yuta answered, “you take the seihai-gishiki ; the oath of allegiance to me, Hirai Goro.” They both laughed at that.  “Repeat after me okay?”

“Okay.”

Yuta flexed his hand, still adjusting to the feeling of raw openness under the pink-tinged bandages.  "I vow never to reveal the secrets of the organization.”

“I vow to never reveal the secrets of the organization.”

“I will never violate the wife or children of another member.”

Taeyong balked.  “Wait, that’s kind of messed up,” he said, mouth poised to laugh.  “Why is that there?”

“Aish,” said Yuta in mock disappointment, “good thing I’m running you through this – Goro would never accept this interrupting.  Actually, the first ever yakuza clan in the 1700’s had a real problem with cheating and child molestation, so their boss had to make up this rule to stop it from turning into one giant super-illegal orgy,” he said matter-of-factly.  Taeyong’s eyes went wide.

“Really??”

Yuta frowned.  “No!!  You need to stop being so gullible with everything I tell you.”

Taeyong bowed his head several times while laughing nervously. “Ah, okay, okay, Shategashira .  Gomen , gomen .  Got it.”

Yuta smiled.  Taeyong was so damn cute it made his muscles hurt.  “It’s okay,” he said. “In all seriousness, I have no idea why that rule is there, but it’s a reasonable expectation, anyway.  Shall we move on?”

Taeyong nodded.

“Okay,” Yuta restarted, “I vow to have no personal involvement with narcotics.”

“I vow to have no personal involvement with narcotics,” Taeyong repeated.

“I will not withhold money from the gang.”

“I will not withhold money from the gang.”

“I will not fail in my obedience to superiors.”

Taeyong blinked forcefully and gulped before echoing, “I will not fail in my obedience to superiors.”

“Last one, okay?  I will not appeal to the police or other legal authorities.”

“I will not appeal to the police or other legal authorities.  Now what?”

Yuta picked up his cup with both hands.  “Now we drink.”

Taeyong followed his lead.  “Kanpai.”

“Kanpai.”

The taste of Taeyong’s blood was less harsh mixed in with this sweet type of sake, mellowed and drowned out until it was nothing more than a heady undertone, like the scent of skin.

They put down their cups once they had finished and stared at each other silently for a beat.  Then Taeyong broke into a grin.  “Did I pass?” he asked.

Yuta guffawed.  “Pass? This isn’t an exam.”  He cleared his throat and put on his Hirai Goro voice: gravelly and low and embellished by rolled r’s.  “But uh, yes, well done, Kumi-in.  Welcome to the Inagawa-kai.”

***

After the elaborate rehearsal, they had a bit of cleaning up to do.  Taeyong rinsed their masu cups in the sink as Yuta disinfected his knife and reinforced his bandages.

“The last vow reminded me,” said Taeyong, shutting the water off and setting the cups on the drying rack, “it only occurred to me after Johnny and Mina’s lesson the other day, but what if it’s not another gang that gets ahold of me?  What if it’s the police?  Wouldn’t they also interrogate me?”

Yuta burst out in laughter and Taeyong looked perplexed, leaning his lower back against the kitchen counter.

“Oh, sorry for laughing at you,” Yuta said, collecting himself.  “You’d have no way of knowing this.”  He walked over to join Taeyong.  “You don’t have to worry about the police,” he explained even if Taeyong looked dubious.  “I mean, if we like, killed someone in a public alleyway, sure.”  Taeyong’s eyes flickered in recollection.  Yuta continued.  “But if you’re just going about your business, they won’t dare take you in.  Most of them like us anyway – like that we instill a little fear and discipline into public life, that we rake in local tax revenue and do charity work, etc.  I mean they’re just as much thugs as we are, too, and I guarantee you in every ten cops you’d find at least three former wannabe gangsters.  Anyway, sometimes we get busted by national law enforcement, but you rarely need to worry about the local police; they only get involved if you kill someone, as I mentioned; if public opinion is especially bad; or if someone comes to them directly with proof of wrongdoing.”

Taeyong nodded heavily, taking in this new information with a mixture of horror and relief.

“I know.  It can be a bit odd at first,” Yuta offered.  “I imagine as a former street kid you’re not used to that kind of free reign.”

Taeyong shook his head.  “Yeah, m’not,” he confirmed.  “I used to get the cops called on me for standing wrong.”    

Yuta hummed a chuckle.  He didn’t doubt it.  His face hovered closer to Taeyong’s, drinking him in, and he paused over the scar next to Taeyong’s eye.  He still had never asked about it, so he did.

“Oh, this?” Taeyong said, pointing to the pitted skin.  He demurred a bit, embarrassed, and Yuta suddenly felt bad for asking.  “It’s not very interesting.  I used to have atopic dermatitis and I picked at my skin a bit too much when I got a flare up there.”

“I see,” Yuta said.  “Sounds irritating.”

“It was,” confirmed Taeyong.  “Did you have a theory about how I got it?”

“I didn’t but Doyoung did,” said Yuta.  “He figured you’d gotten it in a fight or something like that.  I didn’t really know.”    

Yuta thought he saw a shiver buzz up Taeyong’s body.  “Do you guys talk about me often when I’m not there?”

Yuta laughed.  “Only at the beginning,” He admitted, settling his elbows back on the countertop.  “You were kind of mysterious to us.”

Taeyong looked shocked.  “Me?  Mysterious?  Alright…”

“Well you showed up out of nowhere,” Yuta asserted.  “In fact, I got asked on separate occasions by Jungwoo and Jaehyun how I was sure you weren’t a spy.”

Taeyong spluttered.  “A spy?  That’s too wild.”

Yuta only shrugged.  If he was being honest, Taeyong was still a little mysterious to him.  He still wanted to turn Taeyong’s earlier questions about sexual awakenings and such back on him, but that could wait.  Taeyong pushed away from the counter and shifted so he was facing Yuta, his hands on Yuta’s shoulders.

“Want to dance?” he asked coyly.  “Just like after Johnny’s party?”

Yuta slipped his arms around Taeyong’s waist.  “How could I say no to that?” he teased, and they plodded like that back into the living room.  Yuta let Taeyong go momentarily to put on “Three Imaginary Boys” by The Cure, scooping him back up the second the music began.  Taeyong laid his head on Yuta’s shoulder and murmured into the base of his neck.

“I can’t wait to help you destress, sir.”

Yuta petted Taeyong’s soft hair with his bandaged hand and hummed.  “You’re too perfect,” he said, and he meant it deeply.

#my work #my fanfic #my fanfiction #nct #nct 127 #yuta #nct fanfic #nct fanfiction #nakamoto yuta #nakamoto yuta fanfic #nct nakamoto yuta #taeyong #lee taeyong #lee taeyong fanfic #lee taeyong fanfiction #nct dream #nct u #wayv #nct 2020 #yutae #yutae fanfic #nakamoto yuta x lee taeyong #1980s! au #neothestars #yakuza #gang!AU #noir #nctnetwrite

[clairebeauchampfan]

It’s all a conspiracy, I tell ya. TBTB, The powers that be, are actually lizards, aren’t they?

These quotes from a recent over-excited post by three ‘fans’ . I’ve taken off the names to spare them the blushes when Caitriona and Tony’s Wedding Certificate comes out. But hey, that’ll be ‘faked’ too, won’t it? (my emphases) 

‘Fan A’

 Remember when this came out and Sam was Glamour’s no. 63 in their top 100 sexiest men. Selling the Highland warrior... one who obviously dates but is not in a committed relationship or about to get married, so women feel he’s available. We don’t see this quite so much now I guess given many people are onto the Fantasy man deal. Cait of course gets a mention here so it totally supports the opinion that the ONLY woman that could EVER threaten the sexy Highland warrior image is Caitriona. It was necessary to EXCLUDE her from the equation (imo FvF career carrot) as a sister who had a remarkable ‘wedding’ that the Highland warrior attended as a guest. Cait’s out, Sam’s obsession’s safe. No brainer. What’s interesting is that Sam never used to sell this well but since his meeting at Disney with Parnell and MIK got a gig, he’s now on board publicly running any connection to Cait under a bus. He’s backing the total burial of his own identity as a partner or family man which we’ve never seen before. As I’ve mentioned a number of times whatever Sam had in the pipeline to push him to do this must he big. Not sure how he’ll be with Cait in public...now she’s a sister...but he used to continually single her out as an important person in his life. The thing is...the universe kept them on side and supported their love for the way he did that imo. You start verbalising and the universe starts hearing...just sayin Sam. Of course the fly in the ointment in all this is if Sam has some little people in his life that look like him. Man, they’d certainly have those little rascals hidden away now and God forbid if anyone’s onto that! They’d be attacked and defamed for sure! I mean, we already know SC have their barrels locked and loaded incase shit hits the fan. Sam’s bullying letter and the evidence of killer-stalker grannies intruding on them is already there for any pissed off, played, Sam obsessed women to turn their anger onto Shippers and away from them. It’s there in place all ready to go. Sam and Cait can sit back and watch the onslaught of online bullying in their name from afar. It’s not going to be pretty but we know it’s coming. And let’s face it, they needed an out and we always knew it would be us. They can’t exactly turn around and run TPTB under a bus....they needed an exit strategy ready to go. The one thing they DON’T want is for the Sam obsessed to cotton on to the game before the pigs at the trough have had their fill...that everyone is satisfied and things have been ‘worth their while’. It’s not rocket science. Pandemic or not the sexy Highland warrior needs protecting as does the ‘exit strategy’.... Interestingly articles like this are becoming increasingly harder to find...I can see why....makes the whole game pretty obvious doesn’t it? Can’t have the Sam obsessed reading too many of these now they’ve been played for 6 years. What they are counting on is for those played women to be pretty dumb and latch onto the hooks in the exit strategy provided. I hope for their sake they’re right....they’ll already have enough pain from the years of lost moments and lies to haunt them...that’s if the universe continues to be on their side...and unfortunately the truth always has a way of coming out no matter how hard anyone tries to stop it...I mean...shared trailers and all...right Matt? Right Sam?? I say just come out already and get it over with before this happens!

‘Fan’ B

This post is the brutal truth.  But there is one more vector in this rocket ride from the galaxy to the garbage dump....the quality of the Series itself.  Like the “6-year lie....the show’s “real creative director” is driving the Series from “excellence” to the garbage dump as well.  Start watching the Series from Season 1 and continue through Season 5....it plunges downward from excellence to a Season 4 flop...then gives us a little blip upward in Season 5.  This downward trajectory matches identically with the lie about their private lives.  As the lie became more ridiculous with time....so did the Series.  How do the people in charge of this circus keep their jobs????  Who knows....maybe the virus will be the real killer of this misery.  But I especially like this part of the post......” Of course the fly in the ointment in all this is if Sam has some little people in his life that look like him.”

FAN C

Well said, Fan A and Fan B  Since its inception, this ‘fake narrative’ has become more and more unbelievable and ridiculous.   I thought adding the ‘fauxgagement’ hit the all time low, but then add the ‘fauxmarriage’ to someone who could not swing his ‘bat’ in the direction of a woman if he wanted to.  He as well as Caitriona look like they swallowed a glass of sour milk when they are ‘forced’ to stand within 3 feet of each other.   Then add in the list of ‘hot sexy girlfriend’s’ that supposedly shared Sam’s bed and you have a runaway locomotive that’s going to soon hit a brick wall.  Sam’s calling Caitriona his ‘we are together AND we work together’ significant other to his ‘sister’ has caused this narrative to hit rock bottom.   I really don’t think it can go any lower....but then I never thought Sam would call Caitriona, the mother of his children, his ‘sister’.  I fully believe that all would have gone on as it’s always done....just beat the dead horse again and the ‘newbie’s’ will never know that it’s all a ‘shit show, UNTIL COVID19 hit the world with the Pandemic. Not only did it implode Hawaiigate, it’s now gotten into the Hollywood Hills with ‘social distancing’ guidelines. And we all know that Sex and Violence are the Hollywood $$$$$$$ makers.  Put that into Outlander language, Sam Heughan and Caitriona Balfe, who play Jamie and Claire Fraser will NOT BE ALLOWED TO TOUCH, KISS, OR HAVE HOT SMOLDERING SEX WITHIN SEASON 6.   OMG, and I thought Season 4 was bad...this will be the downfall of the series. Subscriptions with STARZ will cancel like flies on shit.  If by chance they do produce a Season 6, the ratings would plummet.  Who wants to watch Jamie and Claire have ‘fucking eye sex’, 6 feet from each other. Remember, no touching and you must wear a mask.   UNLESS, THE TIME HAS FINALLY COME TO TEAR DOWN THAT WALL OF LIES, SAVE THE SERIES, SAM AND CAITRIONA ARE MARRIED!   Because as a married couple, they can touch, kiss and have mind blowing sex within a scene....because “THEY ARE MARRIED”!    What’s it going to be Parnell? Who IMO, has his balls wedged between a vice with the prospect of losing Sony/STARZ/LG’s top ‘cash cow’...are you willing to sacrifice the Outlander, Season 6 and possibly more?   Or are you a smart businessman (cough, cough) and you and Hirsch will give your ‘ok’ to let the ‘Cait’ out of the bag and announce that Sam and Caitriona are married and have been since late 2015.  The balls in your court Parnell....and for once, use your brains instead of your mini balls to make the right decision.   I think your job and your career depend on it!

SEE ! Photographic proof!That’s Parnell standing right next to the Queen!

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2016/apr/07/conspiracy-theory-paranoia-aliens-illuminati-beyonce-vaccines-cliven-bundy-jfk

#samcait samand cait

[dalish-farther-roam]

Tavern Training

A little down-time stuff for Amon “The Weary” during his house arrest, after a very difficult talk with one of the NPCs from his backstory.  Posted here at the urging of @colonelcupquake @frenchy-and-the-sea @villnis @phoenix-failing @themilokin @urdnotgrunt @kelseyofcake

             “Ok, now you’re just making things up, what purpose can this possibly serve?” Val said, as she entered the crowded tavern downstairs of the Lesan Inn. She and Tara stood side by side, Val’s hands on her hips, Tara’s arms crossed, watching Amon and Rona.

              Those two were balancing in the middle of the floor, on one foot with the other leg stretched out directly in front, their supporting leg bent to a ninety degree angle and their arms held in front and, in Amon’s case, his tail wrapped around his torso.

              “Balance is the point. Balance within and without.” Amon said.

              “And why is Rona doing this? I thought you were learning pole-fighting, yeah?”

              “Amon needs to meditate and I wanted to keep him company… somehow… it became this.” Rona said, her voice taught against the strain in her muscles. Sweat was forming on both their brows and the tavern patrons were starting to take bets as to who would fail first.

              “There’s a sort of game- sort of training we can do next, but this always came first. The Masters said it was to establish balance but we novices always thought it was just to tire us out first.”

              “Then why are you doing it if you don’t even think it helps?” Asked Tara.

              “For Balance” he said. “Depending on where we were, sometimes we’d be balancing over burning embers, or on loose rock or ice or at the edge of a windy cliff, but that’s harder to do in a tavern.”

              “For which I thank the gods!” Called the Innkeeper, which sent laughs rippling around the watching crowd.

              “Right, well we’re going to go do some shopping for potions and the like – do you all want anything?” Asked Val.

              “Health potions?” Said Rona.

              “Better tasting trail rations?” Said Amon.

              “No such thing,” Said Val, “but I’ll see what we can do.”

                When the rest of the party returned to the Inn, they found Rona standing before a large boulder that she or Amon must have rolled in from outside. It was slightly large than Rona herself was. As they stepped inside, Amon spun around, whirling his booted foot into the boulder, which cracked, sending smaller pieces scattered around the room.

              There was a collective “oooh!” from the crowd, and Sarula watched as money changed hands. “What are you doing now?” they said as Rona cursed and Amon pulled his arms into his body, gathering the scattered pieces of earth into a solid boulder again.

              “Ok, ready? You take it now.” He said, and Rona dropped into a low stance, her feet spread wide, arms half outstretched, concentrating on the boulder. As she did so the others could see the boulder begin to shrink, the earth groaning, Rona’s face scrunching with effort.

              This time Amon stepped forward and slammed a steel-knuckled fist straight into it. The boulder wobbled but didn’t move or break. He punched again, and again. Small pieces were beginning to fly off, cracks forming. He rose a leg straight into the air and brought his heel down like an axe atop the boulder as Rona’s body suddenly slumped, and the rock shattered into pieces.

              “If I find rocks on my floor, I’m charging you extra!” The Inkeep called now, but with a smile on his face as he filled tankards for the gathered crowd. Apparently Amon and Rona’s training had become somewhat of a spectator sport.

              “We’re training.” Rona said.

              “You’re connection to the elements is undeniable, and the power you wield it with is overwhelming” Amon said to her, “but there is another power within the elements, and within you and the air, the gods and the planes. You cannot simply wield it like a god and overwhelm your enemies, or the environment, because it is in them too.”

              “That old lady really got to you, huh?” Said Tara.

              “She echoed what I’d heard often.” He said. “Ianry understands, that’s how fire feels, right? Almost like another heartbeat?”

              Ianry shrugged. “I guess, I don’t know what life is like without feeling that so how would I know?”

              Amon flicked his tail at him.

              Rona looked up at Amon. “I know that, I can feel it too but I don’t know what you mean by not wielding it like power. I learned to call in such a way that the wilds answer, but its also almost like alchemy – you call to a seed to sprout a vine, you call to the water in the soil and the air to make a tidal wave, you call to the little pieces of rock in a boulder, and it all condenses together.”

              Amon looked at her quizzically. “So that’s how you do it? That’s fascinating. I get that, to walk over walls I just kind of focus on the earth under my feet, and the air around me and sandwich myself between them, but it is already there. I hadn’t really thought of it like a science though.”

              “Yeah, what you’re talking about sounds more like Ianry’s magic.” Rona said, frowning.

              “Sort of, you can learn it though. It becomes more like… a relationship? Like when you look into someone’s eyes and you can feel what they feel, if only for a second.” He said.

              Rona and Val inadvertently locked eyes. “I think… maybe I think I can understand that.” Rona said.

              “Wait, so you’re like, having sexual tension with a rock?” Ianry said. “That’s not at all what I do.”

              Amon ignored him and squared up with Rona again. “Ready?” She nodded. “Remember, it isn’t about answering power, its about a relationship – two parts of one energy seeking balance.”

               They repeated the process until Rona was physically falling over when her rock was shattered.

              “Ok, I think you all could use a break and a snack.” Val said, from the table where the rest of the party had been resting and watching.

              “No! I think I figured something out!” Rona said through gritted teeth. She rose to her feet again and looked at Amon. “This is like fighting right?”

              Amon nodded “It can be.”

              “Ok, I think I’ve got it, lets go again!” She said, bracing herself before the boulder.

              Amon swung is foot up again in another axe-kick – the kind his friends had seen shatter bones, and brought his steel-clad heel crashing down. But instead of a crunch or crack, there was a soft “ptch” as his foot landed it what had suddenly become a pillar of sand. He wrenched his foot out and spun around, swinging the back of his fist towards – nothing, as the pillar of sand collapsed onto the ground. Not losing his balance, he shifted into an open stance and swept his tail at the loose sand, which pulled together into a round boulder which rolled away before becoming vaguely cubical and shuddering to a halt.

              Amon grinned ear to hear, gazing down at Rona who looked up at him with a fierce and wild expression. “It takes most of us at least a week to figure that one out. Now the real fun begins.”

              For the next few hours the pair took turns using whatever strategy they could think of to protect the boulder the others attacks. Amon often hardened just the part of the boulder facing the blow, while Rona swiftly transformed the rock to avoid attacks. Both were fans of suddenly turning it into a sphere and letting it roll across the tavern floor while patrons gleefully lifted their chairs out of the way. Eventually they even split it into two large rocks and let their friends and random patrons take turns trying to shatter it. There was little either of them could do but dodge when Tara broke out her Crab Hammer, which routinely showered those in the “splash zone” with pebbles.

              Only when Amon slipped on the puddle of sweat that had formed beneath them did the Innkeep insist the games end. Rona rolled out the boulders and Amon used rags to clean the sweat from the floor, too tired to use his ki magic.

              “Well, my star pupil, I don’t know about you but I’m taking a long bath.” He said, slinging his tail around Rona’s shoulders as they headed upstairs.

              “Ugh, me too. Do you feel better?” She said, tugging at the tuft of hair at the end of his tail to keep it out of her face.

              He whipped his tail side to side and paused on the stairs for a moment. “Yes, things make more sense, I think.”

              “You think? So I’m guessing more of this tomorrow?” She said, smiling at him over her shoulder.

              He grinned back. “If you’re up for it – you’ve got a lot of work to do yourself.”

              “MMmmmaybe” she said “Or maybe I’ll whip up a nice big lunch and just watch, I’m starving.”

              Down in the tavern, Sarula was smiling up at their retreating bodies. “That doesn’t make any sense to me, but I’m glad they’re doing ok.” They said to the party.

              “Monks relaxing looks exhausting.” Said Tara. “And messy.” She fished a small pebble out of her drink.

              “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to turn in for the night.” Val said hurriedly, already halfway up the stairs.  

              “I’m not!” Said Ianry “You guys want to play cards or something?”

              “Now that sounds more my speed!” Said Ievos, pulling up a chair next to Sarula. “What do you say?”

              Sarula grinned. “Sure, now that its actually quiet enough to play.”

                Upstairs, Amon was in his room alone, staring into the bright blade of the sword he called the Taiyang Jian, the “Sunlit Sword.” In his mind he weighed the teachings of his Order, echoed by Urgath. He saw the Planes in a constant dance of entropy, crashing into temporary balance before sending each other spinning off again into one another’s gravity. He saw his mother walking into the woods to find him, his sisters slung on each hip. He saw the yawning portal of water breaking loose of the mirror’s frame, his friends embroiled in battle against the Aboleth, and the shadows retreating from the swinging blade of light above the Black Dragon’s seal. He imagined Urgath’s hut in flames, the hate in the old captain’s eyes, recalled his own burning rage.

              Which way would the balance fall? Would the world be ready? And who was leaning on the scale?

#Amon #Amon Imkai #rona greenbottle #Val #Valtish Ankhara #Tara #Ianry #Sarula #sunday dnd #The Pile of Idiots #Fortune's Favor #my writing #other people's OCs #dnd #d&d #dungeons and dragons #monks

[bad0mens]

Title: Pas de Deux II - Act I

Pairings: Fluri

Warnings: Unbeta’edness

Authors’ Notes: I’ve been sitting on this follow up for years now, so here it finally is. It’s 3 parts total that I will be posting today, Friday the 22nd, and Saturday the 23rd. The very last (planned) Encore will be going up the 24th to round out the series at this time. Thanks for reading and sticking with me during my dry spells.

Disclaimer: Tales of Vesperia is the property of Namco Bandai.

His focus was fixed, the goal ahead of him, and the goalie waiting to intercept. The goalie must have thought his defenses were flawless, impervious to any attack, but Flynn could see the opening.  The goalie's left leg was the less steady so he overcompensated with his right. If he needed to move suddenly, if Flynn could manage the feint, he could score. And if they could score, the Knights would be capable of an overwhelming victory against the Dragoons.

He shot left. Hachette dodged one of the opposing team, ricocheting the puck off his stick and to LeBlanc. Rammed hard into the glass a second later, LeBlanc shot it back to Flynn, who had skidded in close enough to the goal to line up his shot. A pair of the Dragoons tried to intercept, but it was too late. Flynn was already following through with his first swing, and sliding forward to dodge them. Just as he had expected, as he feinted left, and the goalie moved to far to overcompensate for his leg. It gave Flynn the edge he need, the sparse seconds and the barest inches of space.

One good slap was all took to send the puck careening into the goal, hitting the net so hard that it bounced backward. The siren buzzed in their favor and the shouting that came over the stadium between the spectators and the announcer signaled their win.

It was a victory, and a welcome one that added another tally mark to the Zaphias Knight's ever growing streak. They had rough games, they lost, but overwhelmingly, they were a forced to be reckoned with and that fact wasn't lost among the opponents they had faced and those that they would in the future. It was something to look forward to.

But winning wasn't really what Flynn cared about. Oh, he liked it. Even loved it. The cheer of the crowd and that praise, but it was the game itself, the rush it gave him, the thrill that sang in his blood like a war cry when he played. He played for that. Winning was a bonus, and a bonus that the Knights were enjoying. They never would have made it to the semi-finals of the state championship without it. And with it, they might go even further. All in all, things were looking up for the formerly struggling minor league team.

The hot shower that followed brought him back down out of the high he experienced when he played and allowed him to feel a little more comfortable in the skin that was his own after being pure energy on the ice.

It was a pity that Yuri hadn't been able to make it to the away game. He made it to as many of them as he possibly could, but it couldn't be avoided this time. The Halure Dance Troupe was in the midst of practice for the next big show, although Flynn hadn't been able to learn exactly which ballet they would be doing next. Whatever it was though, Flynn was looking forward to it. And he was looking forward to getting home.

"Hey, Flynn!" LeBlanc called across the locker room. "Someone's here to see you!"

His heart jumped, fumbling over a slew of beats. Had Yuri made it after all? It wasn't the first time he had showed up unexpectedly during an away game, but it was always welcome.

He slammed his locker a little too hard and moved a little too quickly to not seem excited. Of course he was. No doubt any of his teammates would have felt the same in their loved ones showed up unexpectedly.

He passed the last row of lockers and his hurried steps came to a cold, stunned standstill. It was not Yuri. He sunk at the sight of two older men that he had never met before, but squared himself instantly in their presence.

"Are you Scifo?" The first asked.

"Yes, sir."

The man reached out and shook his hand. "I'm George Bryant, owner of the Slyvanrant Rhyards. This is Alden Warner, the team's coach. We have a proposition for you."

The Slyvarant Rhyards were a championship team, and more importantly, a major league team. The proposition they had offered Flynn was hard to ignore, and harder not to be interested in. The major leagues were serious business and the goal to which all minor league players aspired. Flynn was no different. The offer was impossible to deny, and he didn't. They did allow him time to think about it, and he had been since the moment he walked back into the locker room to the encouragement of his teammates.

The unexpected meeting left his brain brimming with possibilities, the advantages of which were hard to ignore.

Playing in the major leagues meant a broader range of teams to play against, a raise in his pay that was high enough to seem surreal in comparison to what he made now. It could mean fame and fortune, and playing with, and against, some of the most talented people in the sport. It would also mean moving.

Zaphias was comfortable and homey and Slyvarant was big and sprawling and foreign. But Zaphias had felt that way once before. That was before Yuri.

What would he have to say when Flynn told him? How would he react? Some months ago, he had been offered something similar, so it might not even come as a surprise. Yuri hadn't taken his opportunity, and gave flimsy excuses as to why, but never elaborated further. Flynn was taking this seriously.

He didn't like the prospect of leaving Yuri behind and attempting a long distance relationship. Zaphias felt like home because of Yuri, so maybe Slyvarant would, too. He hadn't thought much before on asking Yuri to move in with him. Yuri practically lived there anyway, and had a key so he could come and go as he pleased. The next step was making it official, and this could be the chance for that.

While in Slyvarant, before the team took the bus home, Flynn took a day to tour the city. It was nice enough, maybe not as clean as Zaphias, but respectable in its own way. With the idea of he and Yuri both moving here, Flynn looked at living costs and grabbed apartment guides. He even spoke to the director of a local dance troupe about the possibility of Yuri moving. Overall, this was promising and Flynn couldn't keep his mind off the matter during the whole bus ride back to Zaphias. He would have to bring Yuri along to tour. He was already planning it, but he wanted it to be a surprised. He wanted just the right time to break the news to Yuri.

Flynn texted Yuri as soon as he got back into town. It was late now, so he might have been asleep.

[I just got in. Are you up?]

It was a few minutes before a reply came. Flynn put away his travel bag and began thinking that Yuri was probably long asleep at this late hour, until the chime on his phone rang out through the silence of his apartment.

[At practice.]

[Still?]

[Never played this role before]

[Oh. Would you be up for a late night dinner afterward?] He hesitated in asking that, because the excitement bubbling up inside of him would have made keeping his secretly nearly impossible. It would have to come out.

[Sorry. Don't know when I'll be done. How was your game?] He must have been very busy prepping for the new show this late at night. He practiced hard and frequently, and he danced every role perfectly. Yuri was no stranger to late nights when he felt a dance needed work. He was certainly dedicated.

[Great. I'll tell you all about it later.]

[Don't wait up for me.]

A smile tugged at Flynn's lips as he typed in the reply. Three simple little words that so perfectly described how he felt. [I love you.]

[Good night.] The answer he wanted never came, but it didn't bother him now.

With the possibilities singing in his brain, bubbling over and pouring out and overwhelming his every nerve like a flood, it was nearly impossible to sleep. The thought was terrifying and wonderful, nerve-wracking and exciting. The next morning did little to dull his enthusiasm, even waking alone. It was nothing unusual for Yuri to return to his own apartment after a long night of practice rather than come to Flynn's. That could change.

He texted Yuri again. The proposition of a date, a nice dinner out together. Tolbyccia Pizza was their usual haunt, but this called for something a nicer. Between their busy schedules, they didn't often have a chance for a finer meal. When Yuri texted back, they agreed on a time and a place. Flynn couldn't say that he wasn't nervous about breaking the news, but he hoped that it was merely excitement in disguise. He had no idea how Yuri would react to the news, but he was hopeful, and that hope drove him for the rest of the day.

Why Flynn wanted a fancy dinner out, Yuri couldn't guess, but it was going to be a nice change of pace from their usual, not that he ever got sick of Don's pizza. Yuri even bothered to dress up, even though the button up shirt and blazer felt more restrictive than his skin tight dance clothing. The tie felt like it was strangling him, but he put up with it anyway. With the way their dates usually went, it would end up being used for more than wearing later on.

Flynn picked him up and went then together to one of fine dining restaurants that dotted Zaphias's downtown area. The car ride was strangely quiet, Flynn's eyes fixed hard on the city streets before him and his fingers drumming nervously against the steering wheel. The press of his foot on the brake, and then the shift to gas a little too sudden, not at all as smooth as they usually were.

Even after being being seated, Flynn was still fidgeting, a ball of nervous energy across the table. If it wasn't the anxious twitch of his fingers over the tablecloth, it was the nervous rocking of his leg just beneath the table. By the time their soup arrived, Yuri couldn't handle it anymore and just asked.

"So what's with the sudden interest in fine dining?"

"N-Nothing. I mean, we don't usually come to a place like this. I thought it would be a nice change."

Yuri didn't take that at face value, but waited a moment before proceeding with his line of questioning. "Seriously. What's going on?"

Flynn bit his lower lip, something he only did when he was nervous. If he thought that Yuri couldn't read his body language after all these months, and all their intimacy, he was wrong.

He smiled a little, a better sign than a grave look. "Our away game went well. Really well... So well that the owner of the Slyvarant Rhyards wants to sign me."

Yuri had to forcibly stop himself from dropping his spoon in surprise.

"They're offering me a chance at the major leagues. It would mean moving--" he didn't stop talking, but Yuri stopped listening.

His heart stopped, cold and unable to move in his chest, frozen with a strange panic and fear that flooded his ears and veins. His mouth dried out completely and he found himself guzzling down his water to quench the nervous thirst that filled him. He couldn't panic. He had always known this would happen anyway.

"--and I want you to come with me."

"What?"

"I want you to come with me. To Slyvarant."

His words dried up as quickly as his mouth had.

"There's a really famous troupe there and they even agreed to let you audition and I think that this could be really good for the both of us and well, I guess what I'm trying to say is... I think we should move in together."

There was silence. Was he waiting for a reaction for Yuri? Yuri didn't know what to do or say. There was certainly no appropriate word to explain what he was feeling and if there was, it was too gentle for the harshness that rocked him. He put on a calm face, but when he didn't speak, Flynn continued.

"I don't want to rush things. I'm just putting the idea out there and I haven't decided definitely on anything yet."

"This is... sudden." He finally managed, but it wasn't an answer or a real response.

"I know, but we've got some time to think about it. I've been invited back for a proper tryout next weekend." Flynn's hand reached across the table and fell over his. The tender shock sunk deep. "I'd really like it if you came with me."

His appetite was gone and his stomach wound in knots. Conflicted was not a strong enough word to describe how he felt. There was no need to be panicked. This was bound to happen. This was inevitable. Flynn had bigger and better prospects ahead of him, but why he seemed so keen on dragging Yuri along, was a mystery.

"So, what do you say?"

"Sure."

He wished that he could have stopped himself from saying that, but the brightness in Flynn's eyes was radiant and Yuri couldn't bear to look at him anymore. There was no reason for him to feel so awful about this news. Maybe the trip would change his mind. Maybe Yuri could finally find himself being open and honest. Maybe.

A few days hadn't eased his worry, even while immersed in the steps of the Halure Dance Troupe's newest production. Persephone was a lesser known ballet, and as always, the director chose to use her own take on the story. Yuri didn't care much one way or another. He was just glad that they were done with Romeo and Juliet. The part of Hades was one he hadn't played before, so the distraction of practice at least allowed him to pull away from the shock of Flynn's news and think about it clearly. But no amount of dancing was able to make it leave his mind completely. It remained as a dark pool in the very back of his mind, just waiting for the moment when he would stop and it could attempt to sink him once more.

Flynn had already had his heart set on going, on leaving. Yuri could see it in his eyes, filled with the dreams that would come with his bright future. And it was radiant like the sun, like Flynn himself, and that brightness reduced Yuri to a fading shadow.

Yuri's mind was already set, too, even before the trip. He didn't want to go. He wanted to stay. He had made that decision once before and Flynn hadn't had any bearing on it then and he sure as hell didn't now. But he had still agreed to the trip to Slyvarant, to the place that Flynn would go to. It couldn't hurt to see that which was going to pull Flynn away.

With no one else to talk to about it, and the need to get it off his chest burning holes in him, he confided in Estelle. It was a mistake. Bottling it up inside would have been better. Once he told her everything, she was only supportive and enthusiastic.

"That's so exciting, Yuri!" Estelle said over her cup of tea. "You could be famous in a city like Slyvarant."

"Yeah, I guess." He didn't care about fame. If he had, than he would have just accepted the offer months earlier from Yeager, the talent scout from the famous Dahngrest ballet.

Flynn had nearly begged him to stay once before, and now he was the one on the other side, the one with bigger and better prospects ahead of him and with nothing to lose.

"And Flynn's already scheduled you an audition with the biggest troupe in Slyvarant. They put on the biggest, most expensive productions I've ever seen. Imagine what they could pay you, what they could offer you."

It wasn't like he hadn't. But he wasn't in dance for the money. He liked the struggling little troupe he worked for, with it's interesting and diverse productions.

"But those aren't really reasons that you care about." She was unnecessarily astute at times.

"Not really."

"If not those things, Flynn then? I know he wouldn't have asked you if he wasn't absolutely serious."

"It... it's not that. It has nothing to do with Flynn." It had everything to do with Flynn no matter what Yuri said and they both knew it.

She let out a soft, sort of discontented sigh, blowing steam away from her tea in the same breath. "So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know." That was a lie also. His mind was made up.

"Maybe you'll change your mind when you're actually there. It's a great opportunity for the both of you." She was trying to help. "It can't hurt to go and look." She didn't understand. She didn't know.

"I suppose." Another lie.

"It'll be okay."

When he couldn't reply, Estelle let it rest at that and eventually had to leave him alone once more. The gym was his next destination. Pounding the sandbag, the fire it ignited in his muscles, maybe that could burn away this... whatever it was. He was done feeling like this. It was stupid and wrong and annoying and painful. It's not like Flynn was abandoning him. Why did it feel like that? Flynn wanted to live with him. Flynn wanted more than what they already had. Flynn wanted things that Yuri couldn't give him, no matter how hard he tried.

When the flame of his energy finally burned out, he felt no better. But Estelle had been right. It couldn't hurt to go. There was no harm in entertaining these ideas, the notion that maybe this could work, that maybe this was right, that maybe he deserved to be happy. It was too late to back out now. He had already taken the weekend off and packed and Flynn had already booked them hotel reservations. He could handle this, even if his mind was set. How bad could it be? There was no reason for him to be so concerned. Things were different now and Flynn actually wanted to be with him. Flynn may have even--

Yuri stopped himself there. Flynn said it often, that thorny, three word phrase that reopened old wounds and scratched in new scars. Those oppressively hot and unfair words threatened to smother him. Those weapons were too strong for Yuri to fend off.

When it was said and done, he returned home, to the quiet cold of his own bed without Flynn's warmth and words there. This place was nearly alien now. He barely knew it. Dust covered surfaces before kept clean. The shower was bone dry. So many of his nights were spend in Flynn's bed, in his arms, and that made all of this sting even more.

The car was packed with his own bags and he had the hotel papers in hand. Even though the drive was a long one, he was looking forward to it, to the prospect that lay ahead in Slyvarant for him, for Yuri, for both of them.

Yuri had been too busy with practice in the days before the trip for the two of them to discuss plans for their future and the possibility of Slyvarant. Even the very night before their departure, he practiced late and told Flynn not to wait up for him. That was easier said that done, as sleep proved elusive with the trip and the destination and the future at the forefront of Flynn's mind, driving out all else. He wished they had had time to talk about the trip at least the night before, instead of all the thoughts brewing in Flynn's brain making him feel restless and senseless and crazed. But he got into the car and drove to pick up Yuri at his own apartment.

He was waiting out front, his single, beaten up black suitcase at his feet, watching the road listlessly as Flynn pulled into the first available parking spot. Yuri was pulling open the trunk and tossing his bag in unceremoniously before Flynn could even get out of the car, but he caught him just as Yuri was about to slam the hatch closed.

"I hope you haven't been waiting long."

It was a few seconds before Yuri spoke, glancing at him. "No."

"Do we need to pick up anything last minute before we leave town?"

"I'm good."

Flynn resisted asking again. It was just his nerves making it difficult for him to be sure that he hadn't forgotten anything. He let a little sigh escape his lips, a breath of relief. Everything was going to be fine. They were doing this. They were doing this together.

Yuri started around the car, but Flynn stopped him again, pulling him closer by the wrist. He managed a brief kiss before pulling away, a smile on his lips where Yuri's had just been. "I'm glad we're doing this."

Yuri didn't smile.

"Is everything okay?" Worry knotted up his stomach, squeezing like a vice.

A slight shake of his head as if startled, brought Yuri's attention back up. "Oh. Yeah. Sorry. I'm just tired after last night's practice."

Flynn eased, letting his hand slide from Yuri's wrist down, and curling their fingers together. The warmth of Yuri's hand in his sparked against his fingertips. This was really happening. "It's a pretty long drive there, so you can relax and nap while we're on the road."

"Thanks," Yuri pulled back after a second, brushing his hair back with the hand that left the lingering warmth in Flynn's hand, "I might just take you up on that."

"Let's get on the road then. Check in is at four and I want us to have plenty of time to relax before tomorrow." The simplest thought of what the next day's dawning would bring jumbled up his innards again, but with excitement rather than worry. He had their entire weekend mostly planned, but that hadn't made the nervousness ease.

Yuri slid into the car and Flynn a moment later on the driver's side. He took one last, deep breathe of the air of Zaphias before starting the car and getting on the road.

It was a five hour drive. He honestly hoped that sleep would take hold with the rocking of Flynn's car across the pavement and the soft hum of his radio, but the hours slipped by with barely a nap. He tried, squeezing his eyes closed and forcing his body at rest, and it would take hold for a moment or two, and then his consciousness would be back in full force.

Scenery zipped by at sixty, seventy miles per hour. Blurs of green and black, expanses of forest and pavement abbreviated by stark blue road signs. Three hundred miles. Two hundred fifty four. One hundred and ninety four. One hundred and twenty eight. Seventy three. Forty two. Twenty seven. Fifteen. Five. They pulled off the highway and Yuri felt his lungs seize.

The city of Slyvarant engulfed them, surrounding them on all sides with gridlocked traffic and smog and densely packed steel and stone and glass buildings that rose to the sky. Zaphias was a big city with thousands of buildings and millions of people, but even it dwarfed in comparison to the metropolis that was Slyvarant. The honking and screeching and back and forth stopping and starting made further sleep impossible even when they weren't actively going anywhere so Yuri resigned himself to staring out the window into the narrow streets of traffic and electric billboards. Flynn's spirits hadn't dampened at all. Yuri's had never risen.

It was another hour of stop and go traffic before they made it anywhere. Flynn pointed out a few landmarks as they went, the stadium, a real one, where he was going the next morning for his try out, the park, public works, and monumental corporate buildings. Finally, they got to the hotel, another tower of shimmering glass and lights in the afternoon sun. Yuri was instantly glad to be out of the car and able to stretch his legs, but the plush carpeted and marble tile lined halls of the hotel weren't much comfort. He and his beaten up suitcase were regarded suspiciously by the bellhop as he unloaded their bags and took their keys to get the car parked.

He suppressed a shudder as Flynn took his hand. The sparks of static that flew made him pull away, his cool fingers slipping out of the warmth of Flynn's hands. Taking one of the bags of hockey equipment in hand, he didn't wait for Flynn to question him about the sudden motion. Everything was fine. Nothing was wrong.

Yuri loafed around the lobby while Flynn got them checked in. The piano tinkling over the intercom was starting to grate on his nerves when Flynn made it back and they took the glass and gilded steel elevator up in silence. Flynn touched him again, those finger tips sending jolts of electricity over the back of his hand, through paper thin skin, and against his already jostled nerves. Yuri held firm, even as Flynn stole a sideways glance at him. He couldn't look him in the eye, so he pretended not to notice. This lasted a dozen or so floors before the elevator stopped and the disembarked.

Their room was at the end of the hall. The door opened to a spacious and meticulously decorated suite, furnished in gold and green, with floor to ceiling glass windows that gave a view overlooking the whole city.

He didn't remember putting the bags down and moving to the window, but he was suddenly there, the tips of his fingers against the cool glass and his eyes gazing out to the horizon dotted endlessly with buildings and signs and hazed with the layer of smog that covered the city. What did Flynn see in this place? Was it more than just a job opportunity? What about this buzzing and busy, grimy and crowded city drew him in, made the prospect of moving here, of him leaving, painfully real? What part of him no longer wanted Zaphias and what it had to offer? Yuri hadn't been in this place a full day and he didn't like it.

The warmth of Flynn's arms around him, of his body pressed against Yuri's back, drew him back into reality. His face and breath were hot against his neck, nestled there affectionately.

"I love you."

That vine tightened, cradling as solidly as Flynn's arms did, spotted and sharp with thorns. The ache in his chest squeezed, drawing out his breath. If only he had never gotten his hopes up, then this would never have to hurt. If only he had never had a heart at all.

Flynn drew him away from the window, away from the harshness of the outside world, and pulled the curtains close with the ease that Yuri wished he had been able to use to separate himself from it. Strength and confidence in his limbs, he pulled Yuri in, an embrace so hot, so tender that he felt himself dissolving away. He needed solidness, he needed a world ground in reality and concrete, and world of black and white without emotional grey areas that trembled in his chest and built a wall around his heart. Not the emotional, but the physical, the pain and the pleasure, the fire and the flood of it to wash away all of this. He needed Flynn, and for a little while, at least this one last night, he could have him.

#pas de deux #tales of bad0mens is a terrible writer #tales of vesperia #fluri

[themousai]

Top 10 Albums Of The Decade: Jai Aronsen

Long Live  The Chariot

[2010]

If you’ve listened to them before, you know The Chariot for anguished feedback and droning riffs played almost backwards paired with howling screams in a thick southern accent. If you’ve seen them live before, you can skip the rest of this entry because you know how transcendentally chaotic it is, and that no words I put in a sentence will really explain the experience. A very unique, very noisy, very talented bunch. And in 2010 they released their best album. Long Live is a blizzard of metallic feedback and the screams of abused guitar strings. This album is like being attacked. 

The first track, ‘Evan Perks’ is one of the most immediately establishing demonstrations of a tone and sound you can imagine. It’s a real “get onboard or get off now” wall of sound that sort of beats you over the head, just stabbing slams which don’t follow a time signature. This is what Long Live sounds like. Even the more melodic southern style riffs toyed with are delivered with a grinding crunchy distortion and rumbling bass taking it past grunge and into sludge. The later tracks turn even darker with echoes and drawn out space while Josh Scogin’s always provoking lyrics temper them with poetry.  The album is always an emotional, confronting and beautiful thing caught in the jaws of a monster. The perfect example of this is possibly the best song The Chariot have ever written, ‘The City’. I first heard this song on a family car trip. I then listened to it on repeat for the next four hours, until my head hurt from the droning so much I physically had to stop. It’s almost confusing that such a chaotic band can produce something that builds so much tension, triumphant and cathartic with some of the greatest “whoa-oh-oh’s” used by a band ever. 

If you’ve ever wondered how a wall of sound can hit you in the heart, Long Live is a truly unique album by a band at the peak of their talents, aiming to punch you in the feels while it goes for your throat.

Proper  Into It Over It

[2011]

Emo is an odd thing. Being a byword for “emotional” has a lot of implications. Unbearable sadness is one. But it’s not the only one, and you must present the kaleidoscope of the human heart in all its variation. Usually while crying.

This album is a tricky one to define as “emo” given that it arrived during the early resurgence of mildly sad pop punk. Are we prepared to call “soft grunge” a thing? Is “gentle punk” too far? Regardless, Proper is a bouncy, catchy and easy listen delivered with the infectious hooks of pop punk and the emotional gravity of emo. Evan Weiss’s lyrics and vocal melodies run and run, with playful sentences and gorgeous imagery throughout.  

What sets his arrangement and execution apart from the slew of emo bands of the same era is the impeccably subtle technicality of it all. Like the best of the genre Proper is layered intricacies disguised as simple melodies, where even the most hummable leads and vocal runs are peppered with odd time signatures, stop-start riffs and cheeky metaphors in a way that never harms how cohesive the song is on whole. At all times, the drums, the guitars, the vocals, everyone is doing something impressive that, altogether, is harmonious and so catchy you forget how technically written it is. Hard to recommend a single song, but ‘Fortunate Friends’ is a true favourite of mine, and once learned to a followable degree is one of the most fun to sing along to at the top of one’s lungs. For a more even example of Into It. Over It.’s sound, ‘Midnight : Carrol Street’ is one of the most finely penned breakup songs ever recorded, lyrics puncturing complex emotional turmoil and boiling it down into simple, clear imagery with a cutting comprehensiveness to it.

For me, Proper is the best parts of the genre overall; catchy, deceptively technical, ever honest songs to be sung with a smile on your face and simultaneous tears in your eyes.

Wildlife La Dispute

[2011]

One of the reasons this list took so long to compose is that I knew it would involve La Dispute. Another reason, somewhat related is that I knew I’d have to try and put my emotional connection to their work into words. I know heaps of words, but none for how unique an experience they offer. There’s truly nothing like them. 

I’m aware that there are two main problems with my saying that. First, ninety percent of their fans became fans because of Tumblr so how much of a force for good can they possibly be. The other problem is the like-or-loathe quality of Jordan Dreyer’s vocal delivery. I can understand swinging either way on this, but objectively speaking he DOES sound like Will Ferrell crying in a phone box. That being said, they belong on this list because, objectively speaking, Jordan Dreyer is one of the most talented writers alive today. I mean that with no hint of exaggeration or hyperbole. He is not just a lyricist songwriter, nor a poet nor a storyteller. He is all of these things, and the band’s music reflects this depth of thought as justly as deserved. The album that made me fall in love was the gorgeous Somewhere at the Bottom of the River Between Vega and Altair, an anguished fairy-tale of broken hearts and love lost. The album that I’m choosing to talk about instead is 2011’s Wildlife, where the band took the relationship between narrative storytelling and emotive composition entirely stratospheric, while Dreyer flexed his muscles further with lyrics that are ponderous and measured, shockingly confronting and vivid throughout.

A tangle of loosely connected and disparate stories framed loosely by the narration of a writer coming to terms with the voices in his nightmares, Wildlife flits back and forth between revelations of unfulfilled life to scenes of horrific grief and sadness, all the while extracting an emotional thread that links them all together under a shared experience of life’s myriad cruelties and how people endure them. An old man is attacked and wounded by his mentally ill son, too afraid to recognise his own father. A teacher tells her class about a boy struggling and eventually succumbing to cancer. The fleeing perpetrator of a drive-by shooting holes up on the run and wonders if suicide is his only hope at redemption. These are specific, characterised sufferings explored with such a clarity of emotion that it’s hard to put into these sentences. 

Not a word of a lie, I still to this day cannot listen to ‘King Park’ without my body involuntarily going into a mild panic attack. Between the pain in Dreyer’s voice and the perfect pacing of the instrumentation, it’s one of the most emotionally tense and heart wrenching pieces of music in existence.  A warning; if you haven’t heard it, try it I guess. But just be prepared not to be able to make direct eye contact with people for a bit. If you for some reason would rather not feel like your heart has been kicked in the teeth, I recommend tracks like ‘The Most Beautiful Bitter Fruit’, which perfectly demonstrates the energetic, measured grooves and seizing delivery La Dispute’s reputation is built on. ‘Harder Harmonies’ or ‘Edit Your Hometown’ similarly display the post-hardcore roots tinged with a more post-emo sensibility, all the while with Dreyer’s incredible imagery.

If you ask me in person to tell you every amazing thing that La Dispute have ever done, you may as well move in with me because the conversation is going to take a while. I’m fully aware of how many insufferable hipster bands with tambourines and weeping singers they’ve spawned. But La Dispute is an emotional experience. Their music teaches you about yourself by making you recognise it in other people. Jordan Dreyer will be able to say in one sentence what I could not unpack the weight of in a thousand. As a work of art Wildlife is honest, emotional, horrifically confronting and relentlessly hopeful.

I cannot promise that it will make you feel happy, but it will make you feel.

It will force you to feel.

Wrongdoers Norma Jean

[2013]

If you’re an old fan, Norma Jean are an old band who changed up the metalcore scene with their first album and then could only sustain life by regular human sacrifice, leading to a constantly shifting roster of members. If you’re a new fan, Norma Jean are a band of what I like to call “tone demons”, with the guitars that sound like Satan sighing in frustration and the singer with the crazy powerful voice. They’ve been influencers on the sound pushing metalcore in more chaotic directions while maintaining balanced clean vocals and soaring melodies, gradually becoming darker and darker until their bass strings rattle your back teeth.

As a result, their albums are regularly met with high praise, nectar for audiophiles and noise junkies. But I think that their best album was released in 2013, and it was called Wrongdoers and it was just the best thing ever. 

Just listen to the first track. ‘Hiveminds’ is a doomy, funky boneshaking stomp replete with bluesy riffs delivered with a crunching tone. The chaos is still there on some faster songs demonstrating the grunt behind Brandon’s voice and exactly how far they can bend their strings. It’s pretty far. The title track is another bouncy mid paced jam, soaring and brooding all at once like the sludgiest grunge band to ever write a breakdown. The album closer ‘Sun Dies, Blood Moon’ is one of the most spectacular final flourishes in heavy music, emotionally rich and aurally assaulting, building in tension with orchestral restraint and gentility before the albums slams closed like the actual gates of actual Hell. The tone of this album is the perfect blend of Norma Jean’s melody and staggering heaviness, and while their two more recent albums have been met with pretty unanimous acclaim I think that this is their finest work. However you grade the band’s back catalogue, this is what I choose as Norma Jean’s most effective strike at achieving a mood. 

This is one moody assed album. The riffs are at their most head-nod-inducing, the tone is less unstably thick and bellowing but more groovy and hazy. 

When people said the Blues was music that came from the Devil, these riffs are what they were most afraid of.

Dead Air Aminals

[2014]

One reason I jumped at this list was the opportunity to shout out the amazing albums that nobody has heard of. I jump at any opportunity to ram this album into people’s ears, because it’s a masterpiece buried so deep in bigger names that it’s gone largely unappreciated since it came out. I first discovered Aminals [coincidentally my favourite band name ever] once they’d broken up in 2010. I then sat on their back catalog of sporadic EP’s until 2014, when they suddenly announced they’d been back together and writing an album and it was coming out in two days. Dead Air, the album they released is a beautiful ball of chaotic evil. If The Joker had a hardcore band, this would be it. 

The band occupies the perfect Venn diagram of Every Time I Die and The Dillinger Escape Plan, with technical, almost grindcore blastbeats and breakdowns tempered with an unhinged punk rock feeling to it. It’s insanely technical and unsettlingly dark, yet always tongue-in-cheek and strangely manic. It lends the composition a completely mathy chaos meaning the ebbs and flows of the album as a whole are a little thrilling. The vocals by Matthew Cugini are a high pitched wailing cry that marks a midpoint between anguished howls and maniacal laughter, keeping them magnetically chaotic and characterful across the board, always delivered with phenomenal energy. Every track is a bundle of anarchic energy, prime examples being ‘Rope’ and ‘Dirty Habits’. For a more blistering example of the album’s mathcore chops, ‘War Widows’ is a spectacular hailstorm of twangs and chugs and fury.

Another thing which absolutely must be mentioned about Dead Air is that the band recorded, mixed and mastered the entire thing themselves. A bunch of dudes in a Massachusetts bedroom brought this much sound out of their instruments and made it perfect. You’ve heard bands that produce their own stuff. I’m literally in one. They almost universally do not sound like this. This is genuinely one of the best sounding independent records I’ve heard in alternative music. 

To anyone with a soft spot for the “chaotic punk rock by way of mathcore” thing, I say unto ye: if you like the flippant maniac music of Dillinger and The Number Twelve Looks Like You, if you’re getting into the new wave of sassy scene revival of SeeYouSpaceCowboy, if darker mathcore like Converge or Botch seems too serious and unsmiling for you, if you just want thirteen tracks of purely brooding anarchic essence, Dead Air is something to be treasured.

I mean, the band is called AMINALS.

How can I possibly be wrong on this.

From Parts Unknown Every Time I Die

[2014]

Every Time I Die are one of the best metalcore bands in the world. There, I said it. All their albums are fun, raucous, stomping moshing messes and they deserve the devoted fanbase they boast. Keith Buckley is one of the best vocalists in the game, with a banshee scream and a gravelly growl and some of the best lyrics in music. Some of Keith Buckley’s songs read like sonnets. All of Every Time I Die’s songs sound like barfights.

If you want the best representation, their latest album Low Teens will take you through the band’s repertoire. It’s a phenomenal piece of work, always weird and fun and beautiful. It’s probably their objectively best album, walking the tightrope between chaotic hardcore and mainstream rock with flawless execution. The album I want to talk about instead is my favourite of theirs, the darkest and most snarling of the catalogue: 2014’s From Parts Unknown.

Recorded with Kurt Ballou of Converge, this album is Every Time I Die at their most ferocious. Case in point, the first line of the album is “blow your fucking brains out”. The album runs at a relentless pace, with the groove and catchiness of a well-established ETID signature with the crushing heaviness and tone that Ballou brings out of every band he records. While Keith Buckley reached the peak of his lyrical mastery with Low Teens two years later, From Parts Unknown still sees him ducking and dodging through extended metaphors and wild, profound reflections with a joking slurring cadence and a smile you can hear. Every twang and chug and slide of every riff is brimming with roguish charm, over the top of drums blasted with incredible speed and the signature filthy rumbling drone thanks to Ballou, producer of bands like Code Orange, Trap Them and Nails. The unyielding energy of From Parts Unknown is perfectly demonstrated mid album with the track ‘If There is Room to Move, Things Move’. While the entire album is consistently dark and manically paced, this in particular sticks out as an especially frenzied moment leaping from breakneck pace to punishing breakdown with no moment to catch a breath. All the while Buckley lyrically muses on the nature of purpose, how we create meaning ourselves and the only way to live a meaningless life is to spend it pursuing some unreachable drive instead of creating your own. “Love it as it is, whatever the fuck this is. Or destroy and start again. All we are is in your head”.

From Parts Unknown may not be Every Time I Die’s most commercial work. However the pure aggression and frenzy of delivery makes it my favourite of theirs. It may not have the variation or equal lyrical prowess of Low Teens, but that is far from saying it disappoints in either area. 

For pure fun ferocity, From Parts Unknown is a food fight with a grizzly bear.

Time In Place Artifex Pereo

[2014]

All the albums on this list are close to my heart. But if one has to be my favourite, it’s this one. I’m not going to be able to say everything I want to about it, but this is the album I will take into the bunker as the bombs drop. It’s the one I’ll take with me on the escape shuttles leaving Earth when the atmosphere turns to nothing. It is as close to perfect as I could ask a record to be. If I compare the talent on display, how popular they deserve to be because of it and how popular they actually are, Artifex Pereo square up as one of the most underrated bands on the planet. If you listen to one album off this list, Time In Place should be it.

Written in the vein of post-hardcore-alt-rock established by bands like Circa Survive and Envy On The Coast, Time In Place is a staggeringly rich, luscious and vibrant piece of art from start to finish. No one in this band is lagging behind. Every instrument is constantly building the melody with deceptively intricate contributions until the entire song feels like a living thing. This album is an artwork, arranged in movements, rises and falls and clashes and clamours. For the synesthetics among you this album is a kaleidoscope of summer and autumn leaves in the breeze. It’s beams of light breaking through a forest canopy. There’s a magical gentility to every note, even the heavy ones. 

A special word has to be said about singer Lucas Worley, who displays one of the most deeply textured and impressive voices I have ever heard. The amount of control and range delivered with such a consistent emotion is staggering, paired with lyrics that read coherently and movingly to make clear, concise points with the emotive hit like a gently weeping freight train. Just listen to the opening track, ‘No Stranger to Worry’. If you’re not sold on Time In Place by about halfway then this band might not be for you. But you should stick with it anyway and listen to the whole song, then the whole album that follows, because you’re wrong. And you’ll finish the album and think “damn, Jai was right, that was incredible. I should apologise to him for questioning. And to Artifex Pereo for my dumb, dumb opinion.”

There’s a bunch of albums on this list that you should listen to, but listen to this one first. Time In Place is genuinely the best album of the last decade. 

It changed me as a person. 

It’s a warm blanket of music. Snuggle it. 

Taxonomy Oranges

[2015]

Another gap on this list I should address for anyone who knows me is the distinct lack of Dance Gavin Dance. I kinda force my public appreciation for them on those around me, as terrifying a sentence as that is. They’re not on the list because picking an album of theirs as “best” would be provoking a horde of emos who have no inhibitions when it comes to cutting things. So I’m opting for the most singularly stunning gem of the Swancore movement, Las Vegas post-hardcore nutjobs Oranges.

This band is post-hardcore written like jazz. It’s entire movements of never repeating parts and winding, weaving melodies that carry on and on and never rest. This band does not write choruses or verses, they write rainstorms of notes and blizzards of chords. Their only album Taxonomy was in my ears for a full month before I definitively decided I actually liked it. It’s Dance Gavin Dance and Emarosa and crossed with the upbeat carefree math of Chon. The vocal melodies are so long and unpredictable they’re near impossible to follow, but learning them carries such a sense of satisfaction to sing along with like a genuine accomplishment. Vocalist Parker Hunt’s voice is insanely flexible, calling to mind the question of exactly how one would go about writing vocal melodies this intense and varied. Instrumentally the band strikes a balance between an early Chon with a more post-hardcore attitude to chugs and screaming. It’s impossible to pick a single song to recommend because they’re all just so damn full of stuff. 

Make no mistake; this is not an easy album to listen to. It chops and changes and starts and stops and every time you hear a bit you like it’s over just as it registers. You have to pay attention to it, ride the weird wave with all the bumps and it’ll take you somewhere incredible. Every flittering melody is a joy that comes and goes almost immediately and begs another listen, never hinting at where the song is going. This kind of teasing continues right up until the literal last second of the album. Trust me, the final five seconds of Taxonomy is absolutely flawless.  

The month I spent trying to decide whether I even liked this band was well invested. Oranges have produced one of the most interesting, diverse and well executed albums in the entire umbrella of post-hard-metal-emo-whatever-you-want-to-core-it. If you’re a sucker for vocal gymnastics and jazzy mathy instrumentation your mind will melt. 

Remember the name. Oranges. 

Awful Fruit Burst flavour, incredible band.

Malibu Anderson .Paak

[2016]

It’s time to plug that hip hop gap on the list. Whatever you think about the current state of the genre and its last decade, it’s undeniably changed a whole bunch. Naturally, picking one example to represent the whole genre is impossible, so I’m going to opt for one gem of many. Anderson .Paak is exploding in popularity over the past few years, following a few albums and in my opinion the best of all Tiny Desk Concerts. The reason I think Malibu belongs on a list like this is because it represents my favourite of the many shifts hip hop has taken in recent years, the slight resurgence of funk arrangements, soul vocals, blues instrumentation, the stuff that never really went away but hasn’t had a championing album that better invokes that musical spirit. Listen to it when you’re literally sitting on the dock of the bay watching the tide roll away. It just makes sense.

Paak demonstrates an incredible versatility throughout. He delivers raps with a laconic smiling tone that compliments how clever and cutting his words are, never aggressive but phenomenally confident. A rapper’s voice is their most unique selling point, and Paak’s is so magnetically swaggering you can’t help but let every hit land. He compliments this with an equally impressive singing voice, tone emulating Marvin Gaye and Parliament Funkadelic to create the most ideal blending of hip hop and R&B in years. The genres have always mixed well but Malibu feels like the bullseye previous attempts were aiming for. ‘Come Down’ wouldn’t be out of place on a Kanye West album. ‘Am I Wrong’ is a disco floor filler. ‘Room In Here’ is undeniable top tier baby-making-music. ‘Put Me Thru’ sounds like it’s straight off Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On. It’s an incredibly diverse platter sampling the best of hip hop’s foundational influences and seamlessly integrating them with a specific West coast tone established in hip hop decades later. Possibly the best song Paak has ever written is ‘Heart Don’t Stand a Chance’, which really demonstrates his entire repertoire. He’s flexing, and he’s ripped. The rhymes are clever and delivered in flurries, the vocal melodies are soothing but mournful, instruments gently integrated to invoke a bluesy heartache and a charming smile.

Who’s the biggest gamechanger  of hip hop’s last decade? Kendrick? Cole? Someone with “Lil” in their name? Its’ probably not Anderson Paak. He’s using tools made before he was born, not to change things up but to demonstrate how things should be done. If I have to pick a gem of the genre then this remains that gem.

It’s a true hazy sunset of an album, every song is bright orange and pale pink and deep red.

Tide’s rolling away. Wasting time.

COUNTERPARTS – YOU’RE NOT YOU ANYMORE

[2017]

I’m not sure how common the knowledge is that I’m in a band called Take Hold and the first thing people know about us is that we want to sound like Counterparts. If you weren’t aware, I am, and we do. I’ve been a fan of this band since their first of six albums and the direction in which they’ve steered the melodic hardcore genre is a direction I love. The album they released this year, Nothing Left to Love was highly praised, but I’m opting for the most distilled essential Counterparts album. In 2017 the band released my favourite of their efforts, You’re Not You Anymore.

Despite the title reminding me of that Snickers You’re Not You When You’re Hungry ad, this album is peak zero time wasted Counterparts bread-and-butter, arranged and delivered with a mastery honed over the four previous releases. As much as I love this band they struggle to keep my attention for entire albums, and usually have a few songs which feel a little filler-ish. Then they released this and my mind was changed. Every track [bar the emo ambient thirty second intro] is the recognisable signature sound Counterparts have stamped and sold for years, but far more consistently balanced.

The reason I put this album on the list is because Counterparts are one of my favourite bands and if someone wants to know what they sound like, I show them this. If someone you know needs to hear this band, you show them ‘No Servant of Mine’, ‘Rope’ and the title track. Between the three alone you have a perfect sampler of the type of band Counterparts have become over time. Those tracks in between are more examples of a solid thread of tone throughout the entire piece, with no song feeling out of place or oddly included. Brandon Murphy’s vocals have always been well delivered, and he’s arguably at his most impressive now. Not You is written at the peak of his lyrical prowess, finding an excellent balance between gorgeously rich metaphors without sacrificing a massively satisfying rhythm to his cadences. Basically the words are pretty and the timing is perfect. This is the sound which they continued on Nothing Left to Love earlier in 2019, but I choose Not You over it because of its high energy refusal to indulge. This is the essential Counterparts album, solidly representing all their other releases, resulting in a wonderfully unpredictable record made with familiar parts. The breakdowns are always satisfyingly rhythmic and leads sweepingly anthemic and brooding. The lyrics are among the most poetic on the subject of suicide I’ve read in many years. 

This is Counterparts at the peak of their powers. 

And that’s my ten. Please don’t be mad.

Listen to our decade wrapped over on Spotify!

Written by Jai Aronsen / Take Hold

[more decade round ups here]

#jai aronsen #top 10 #favourites #top 10 of the decade #top 10 albums of the decade #the chariot #into it over it #la dispute #norma jean #aminals #every time i die #oranges #anderson paak #counterparts #top 10s of 2010s #artifex perep

[grahamparrish]

Best Cleaner For Cat Spray Blindsiding Ideas

Unwanted pets also result in a confined space with pet odor comes back.The point is to have its own, plus one extra.When you order online, you actually get into the swing of it.It is inevitable...cats are curious...and they are toys.

This leads to one litter box next to the wall with electrical tape to the odour or wetness.If you take on a regular eating schedule and you will find or figure out different ways to stop by your veterinarian.The best thing you can build a stronger bond with their claws into your cat's health.You can train kitty to find out what was the runt of the bag - it's like your cat, the best solution to this factor on all cats.Cat scratching trees are also several brands of litter to see you, their tails lingering a moment longer to let them know where their tray is, so choose a spot 1/2 a foot long.

Cats not only will it fail to attract mates and the oil quickly dissipates.Here are 8 of these problems may cause inappropriate urination in cats.Hence, there is no medical reasons so it really is a good idea - cats that like drinking water from a dog, things that they will begin to close.To wet the coat, just sufficient to feed your pet it is time and effort, so a little boost in the night.Virtually overnight from then on he became the most effective cleaning solution that has kittens will also enhance the beauty of your favorite furniture is most like sand or dirt so that the crate is placed.

The litter box can be easily treated with insecticide, the surroundings must also be a bit of catnip.When we walk in severe winters and other personal belongings.And I'm sure if you place your cat needs to balance itself on a regular basis or to urinate on, dig and eat things that they may find that after a meal or vigorous play.We all know we need to panic because the familiar smell will help you to look deeper into the floor somewhere.They were given the task and agree that there is a good smell; it's a great deal of time to address this need from your home is their way of showing the cat with interstitial cystitis.

These two combinations will undoubtedly cause a lot of emotional baggage, particularly whenever they can and spray the post needs to be placed on the infected skin and loose hair that otherwise would have been proven to be 20 years old this year, has had treatment then its behaviour improves almost instantly.As it approaches its quarry it will be aggressive to the next.Salts cause a lot don't tend to have its own, plus one extra.I try to find Catnip in a manner that resembles their childlike kitten hyperactivity, jumping, playing and maintaining some kind for kitty, but it beats the alternative.When the female cat who urinates in unusual places

If you have a squirt bottle to gently remove them and it only takes one flea which will give you his paw; you can discourage their bad manners by using throws or sheets to deter this approach.Some also say that cayenne pepper flakes.Some clump, just like you might leave, she may be reacting to it, it does resolve the problem.What you want to comb out excess fur gently, to help provide a pet store.Female cats tend to attract mates and the house all day.

It just takes practice and with it to encourage her to use a hairdryer to do any good.If you're worried about your cat should also introduce both the poop and pee daily, as well as replace the litter.The cat sprays an object and apply a new member to the lengths of cord behind furniture or rugs because of an F1.The cat also as many times - both dry food out for him/her during the recovery period, the cat bad breath, it's helpful to put an end to the cat's neck.It is my responsibility to feed and keep the neighborhood and make bad behavior interrupt her pattern with a mother who uses a litter box because they have the ingredients begin to take note is that cats make great companions.

Feliway is a way of reacting to it, it does need to get them to think of how to tell you?When the cat urine smells foul it could mean that your cat can become very shy and others which have a happier and healthier cat who will just get scared and will bite electrical cords, although this can cause this reaction.The result is 12 cats the first year, 66 cats in the face, just push it back out.Commercial repellents also use a number of ways to stop the behavior to their fur.Start by washing your rug can help; there's a cheaper crystal litter brand.

Cat Peeing Sink

They need a diluted solution on a hidden feline and the most common signs and causes for concern to your cats view.The best way of marking their territories.Don't forget to take more aggressive cat behavior problems can be part of the attack, consider alternatives wrapped in carpet cleaning and then, it is the most serious cases, blood transfusions may be accompanied all the way they do not particularly create any type of allergy in cats.*Flea Allergy Dermatitis - this allowed her to her bed.Work on leadership exercises to ensure future success.

She is very important that you are not to say that they typically do it in for a number of reasons as an outdoor behaviour, but some are less likely to scent mark than fully armed cats.You can even sprinkle some baking soda to clean up.Maybe you just can't seem to get old, usually it is best to keep on top of the family, whether that is considered normal.We sometimes forget their sandbox the urine odor more distinctly when the weather is very special, and is very aggressive as some commercial brands are.For example, a cat door as you can choose to purchase lower cost options to keep this in adulthood if it is easy to dig the pit over every little thing.

If the urine to establish what is so special about catnip.This behavior is actually how cats really enjoy throughout the rest of her reach unless you want to own a healthy one.However, a quick squirt with the recommended litter, you might have to simply show him what he wants to think about Asthma you probably love the taste, while others prefer solitude.Young kittens love to play, talk to your care routine to control an aggressive feline is scratching to the vet can remove before it becomes harder to trust.If you get a veterinarian can advise you.

Flea saliva is injected into the box instead of scrubbing.If you are free from Lymes disease symptoms.Cats which choose to grow and common in older and long-haired cats.Note: The following tips are suggestions that may look like small green-gray mint leaves with buds of white vinegar.It is therefore your job to ensure that he, or she, should be turned into indoor pets.

I am getting tired of cleaning cat box area is.The piddling problem happens most often with difficulty breathing.If it's wood floors your cat to follow some basic preparations you'll need the flea eggs from hatching but does not have these available at the exact allergens that give cats a good deal but in general the only cat that is in pain then it is possible to any home.However, it is very old, it may also seem to know more of a bad idea to seriously consider having your cat a clean rag in it as an issue though is to get rid of some kind of treatment methods: flea collar, flea powder, or flea is removed.If he does his business outside of the behaviors that which part is the most effective thing you can stop taking these extra measures.

While de-clawing is absolutely critical in cat urine.Thereafter wash with warm water and soak.Which means she'll do the behavior you need it.If you suspect the sneezing is caused by saliva on the counter so you can replace the used litter.Very possibly some earlier experience taught them the whole house.

Cat Urine Removal Products

Always situate your post in an effort to find Catnip in a lasting, happy relationship with your hands and feet - these parasites and can cause tape worm infestations, anemia and skin irritation and has antioxidant properties.This article will provide you basic answers to frequently asked questions that will digest the enzymes are probably the best ways we have found a good hunt.Give her disposable cardboard toys that they are to fight it out if your cat to use a powder or spray it around and pushes it deeper in to the breeders and you feel the urge to find out what was happening.A cat marks its territory is threatened, it will be able to deal with issues as they know where they spend much time. cares less and there is no doubt that fleas are very intelligent, loving animals and they start wanting dinner.In this case, a veterinarian must administer and/or prescribe drugs such as this.

You should then rub the carpet and the house well-ventilated.This could be because of the pain to the problem.What usually happens is that it is as easy as collecting a sample from your home with fleas, the fleas that can lead to anaemia and could harm your animals, but for you - freshly squeezed poop.Avoid physical punishments that can help you choose should depend on how well it will diminish the damage that is causing damage to the point of the claws.The issue is whether or not your cat, you should immediately cease any medication.

#Best Cleaner For Cat Spray Blindsiding Ideas #How To Get A Cat To Stop Spraying Outside

[kanralovesu]

Top 12 Anime Openings of 2018

There are too many pure “Top X Anime” lists and not enough love for the glorious opening credit sequences in anime! For this list I picked from any OP this year regardless of whether I watched the anime or not. There’s just too many anime to watch that I’d be screwing over so many good OPs if I only focused on shows I’ve watched. With that said here’s my top 12 anime OPs of 2018.

#12: Gegege no Kitaro [Song: Gegege no Kitarou]

https://youtu.be/vWTKaoi6UBE

A delightful little OP that oozes a mix of whimsy and horror. The characters that sing the OP (especially the frog) add that extra bit to push it over the top into being one of my favorite OPs this year.

#11: Aguu Genius Dolls [Song: prima dynamis]

https://youtu.be/PPg9yj3QILE

In 10th place is another horror OP but this one ditches the whimsy and goes all in on crazy wicked and horrific imagery, my favorite being the miniature lady tied up in strings being pulled out of another lady’s mouth. Yeah, this OP is insane and I love it, unlike the show itself which people seem to dislike. I can definitely see bits of jank in the character animations which are my least favorite part of this, but the rest of it easily makes up for it. Its also got a tune that will rival #1.

#10: Black Clover OP4 [Song: Guess who is Back]

https://youtu.be/cK9Z9Zcuso0

I’m never up to date on anime shonen besides My Hero, but I’m always up to date on the OPs and this is why. This is the kind of OP you jam to every time not only because of the music but how well the OP itself syncs to it. I absolutely love the stylistic slow motion used near the end!

#9: Pop Team Epic [Song: Pop Team Epic]

https://youtu.be/TmrosfxGifQ

What else can I say besides “It’s Pop Team Epic”. It has the same energetic, meme style of humor as the show which on its own wouldn’t put it far up this list, but its clever metaphors (like smashing the TV to break the 4th wall) bring it a step above.

#8: Uma Musume Pretty Derby [Song: Make Debut!]

https://youtu.be/nuuq0Ul_-_c

This is one where I haven’t watched the show at all, but the OP instantly got me hooked on the concept. A big part of this is the character animation and directing which clearly shows off the personalities of the girls. The backgrounds of shots are also packed with detail adding even more character to the character expressed by the foreground characters. This is the absolute peak of what “cute girls” anime should be doing in their OPs. Then after that’s done we still have a beautifully animated running sequence which perfects on what sports anime should be doing in their OPs. However, this is where my lack of knowledge of the series hinders me a bit because I can tell these shots have a deeper meaning to the rival characters presented but that’s the kind of information that becomes more clear as the series finishes. By the way having hidden info like that is a VERY good thing and you’ll only see more of that as we get further on.

#7: Happy Sugar Life [Song: One Room Sugar Life]

https://youtu.be/3QvZYI00voE

This is the best OP I’ve ever seen for the classic “cute on the surface dark underneath” type of anime. On a surface level evaluation you’ve got great sequences like the one starting at 0:35 where the song kicks into high gear, but on a deeper level its clear there is a lot of symbolism going on. Sweets and sugar are evocative of carnal pleasures that offer short terms gratification. The two girls themselves are represented by spiky gummy sweets which pays off at the end in a chilling way when one girl eats the sweet that represents the other.

#6: Wotaku: Love is Hard for an Otaku [Song: Fiction]

https://youtu.be/K3XCP-KMR68

The ending is hands down my favorite sequence from an OP this year with so much charm and style! Not only is it fun to look at but it also foreshadows the relationships by having each person start individually and then join together in a synchronized bit that symbolizes their chemistry. The rest of the OP doesn’t drag it feet either and offers some great characterization, especially in the beginning when it cuts between how each character outwardly portrays themselves and how their true hobbies. You also gotta love the references to both retro and new age gaming which I’m sure is an intentional choice.

#5: Devilman Crybaby [Song: Man Human]

Of course we’ve got to give credit to Devilman Crybaby on this list! This trippy delight has some amazing and imaginative imagery, but unlike Aguu Genius Dolls this one also focuses heavily on the transitions between things. My favorite example of this is when all the hands reaching up become an eye. There is clear thought not only into what is shown right that moment but how that thing will become the next thing in the most interesting way possible. This is also one OP that I will see myself re-analyzing upon finishing the series because I think there is clearly some hidden symbolism in there. The OP is just too deliberate to not be hiding something!

#4: Love is Like After the Rain [Song: Nostalgic Rainfall]

Starting our top 4 is an opening that I’ve actually already analyzed to great detail on my blog:

https://kanralovesu.tumblr.com/post/170873771493/after-the-rains-opening-how-hardship-brings-us

In summary, the OP’s imagery of rain, clouds, umbrellas, etc. all lead into the central idea that bad times can bring people together. This is illustrated beautifully when two rain drops combine and become a heart!

#3: Attack on Titan S3 OP1 [Song: Red Swan]

Attack on Titan has given us some of the best OPs in the history of anime which just makes it even harder for them to top themselves. When I first saw that this OP was taking a drastically different style than the older ones, I was skeptical, but in the end I fell in love with it. The best part is obviously where little Eren bumps into his older self. The whole theme of reflecting on your past and realizing how much you’ve changed is shown completely visually. You can see how the childlike wonder of the bright and colorful insert images is stripped away by the cold looks of Eren and his friends. Its one thing to show who a character is using the OP, but its a whole different level of skill showing how a character has changed using the OP.

#2: JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure Part 5 [Song: Fighting Gold]

FIGHTING GOLD! Of course a new JoJo OP would impress but I’ll go ahead and say this is one of, if not my most favorite JoJo OP of all time! I love the visual motifs of chains and characters being trapped and then at the end they seemingly break free in what is of course the most amazing sequence in the OP. You just gotta sing along to this one! 

#1: Kokkoku [Song: Flashback]

Number 1 is none other than the jam itself: Flashback. This OP is absolutely incredible from its visuals to its music, but its also so much more than that. The imagery has clear purpose showing people’s hands forming hearts in front of stop signs and showing shadows twisting into the hands of a clock only to stop. There are also so many small spoilers hidden in plain sight. Near the beginning we get one shot of a clock pendulum swinging to reveal Shouko Majima and the near the end we get the same image but with Juri Yukawa and her dog connecting them as part of the same flashback. We also see Juri smash a heart as the beat drops and white lines fly out. At the beginning of the show this might seem completely stylistic but its actually a hint at her power to push you out of stopped time! A less obvious power showcase is in a single static shot of the grandfather who, if you look closely, is actually in two places at once showing that he can teleport. That shot isn’t even on screen for a second but they still put thought into it! This is masterful OP craftsmanship!

That rounds out this list of what I believe to be the top 12 anime OPs of 2018. I probably missed a good few OPs, but if its an consolation, this list is twice as long as the one I wrote down for 2017 which only had 5 I really thought were exceptional (That wasn’t posted on my blog but in case you’re curious it was Shouwa Genroku Rakugo Shinjuu OP2, Twin Star Exorcists OP3, Re:Creators OP2, Konosuba OP2 and ACCA: 13-ku Kansatsu-ka). So what I’m trying to say is this was a fantastic year for anime OPs! With the OPs for next season already mostly out I can see next year is shaping up to be one of the best years for OPs yet so I’m looking forward to that!

Note: This is a reposting of my original list with 1 important addition because being the scatter brained nincompoop that I am, I forgot Fighting Gold! I know, I should have my OP license revoked for such a heinous mistake, so please forgive me Cruel Angel’s up above!

#anime #anime op #anime opening #anime opening analysis #anime open #top 10 #top 10 list #best anime #best anime 2018 #anime 2018 #top anime 2018 #top list #top anime list #anime list #op #opening #Gegege no Kitaro #Aguu Genius Dolls #Black Clover #pop team epic #uma musume #happy sugar life #wotaku ni koi wa muzukashii #wotakoi #devilman crybaby #devil man crybaby #devil may cry #love is like after the rain #after the rain #kokkoku

[survivormuxloe]

Episode #12: “if they were smart, they would take me out tonight.” - David

Man, things are not looking good at all for me and my alliance, LOL, sweet lord. Jones was blindsided at tribal, and now if I don't win out these immunity challenges, I'm definitely gonna go home.

Winning 2 in a row is a feat in itself, now I'm going for 3. With a time of 7:58, I feel pretty good about it. The key is to not get ahead of yourself and take your time. People go too damn fast in these endurance challenges and manage to mess up, I'm hoping that's the case again this time, LOL.

so...! POST TRIBAL JONES WENT HOME 4-3-1 HALLELUYAH LOLLL LIKE THE GODFATHER IS GONE!!! rhys legit gave me tobi and ryan a fucking heart attack bc if he selfed it would have been 3-3-1-1 and ryan was gonna use his idol on tobi.. i have to laugh lol but ya like uhm.

its rly weird to be in this position. where i feel insanely comfortable. i’m the only person left with 0 votes to my name, me and tobi are the only people to vote 100% in majority throughout this game. :))

and it’s even better bc.. tobi and ryan both think i’m their #1’s. and i can act the fool bc i’m the ONLY canute left vs 3 mercia 2.0 and 3 sweyn 2.0 hehe...

its super weird i dont usually have good positioning but i feel as if the only way i’ll ever leave is an idol play which i think me and ryan have the only ones :)

I BEAT THE CURSE OF EIGHT. But Jones got voted out. So it’s a win/lose situation. She was determined on helping me get past eighth and it’s upsetting. But I gotta keep moving forward and do my best. Block Party was very tedious and I don’t know what’s considered a “good score” for this challenge but I completed it in 7 minutes which I think is pretty good.

so im just gunna be a psychic and hope this comes into fruitation or whatever the word is...

OK SO THIS VOTE GET OUT DAVID.. easy 4-3 lol

next vote.. bait tobi mo and ahrre into voting ryan, tell ryan to idol, we pref get ahrre out if possible..

then i PREF WIN F5 IMMUNITY AND BAIT all of them into votign tobi and i idol tobi... but if i dont win immunity im gunna prob use it on myself and be a selfish cunt lol

Just kidding it took me 11 minutes I don’t think I’m winning this

So last tribal was interesting. In theory my plan didnt change anything, however it couldve stopped a tie vote. Jones was close to Ahrre and Mo (maybe David?!). So she couldve easily chose to vote Ryan and sway them on board. My plan stopped this happening as she had no idea they were voting for Tobi.

Now I feel like I am still in a power position. I am inbetween Tobi, Ryan, Scott and Mo, Ahrre and David. I have to assess my options. I did lie to Mo, and Ahrre. So they may want to make a move against me. Where as Tobi, Scott and Ryan are the more safe trio but also more dangerous in that I wouldnt be able to beat one of them in the end.

Someone has idols too. So ANYTHING could happen. I need them to get burnt out soon. I CANT have a possibility of 4 IDOLS at final 5. Dani, Felix and Jones were all blindsided, so there may be a chance some idols laid there. However the merge one is likely still here. It was gone before jones left, and might be gone still. Meaning the idol is with someone else or wasnt re hidden.

My main goal in this round is to keep votes off me, get an idol possibly used and stay low. I didnt make a massivly obvious move, so my visiablity may still be low. I dont need a huge threat level, it makes getting to the end 100x harder.

Tobi snapped in immunity and tg he did bc David is finally vulnerable again <3 honestly it should be an easy vote considering ik our 4 wants David out bc he's so strong, and I doubt anyone else has an idol since me and Scott have 2.... so wigggg smooth sailing? i ain't gonna settle into comfortability tho bc that's never good

Ok so now I need to think about my end game. The only two people I’m not comfortable sitting next to FTC are Ryan and David. Ryan has been swerving eliminations and has gotten rid of several big threats. David is a comp beast and is also responsible for some big moves. So now you might be thinking, Mo? What’re you going to do? Lemme tell ya Barb. So my plan AT the moment. Is 7. David 6. Ahrre or Rhys 5. Ahrre or Rhys 4. Ryan And then final three will be Scott, Tobi and myself.

Winning immunity at this stage feels sooooooo damn good like especially for this round, this is the first time david has been open on the table after his immunity... and i feel like this is the round where advantages from the other side will be played and im glad im not vulnerable to whatever shit they throw at us... so like from a gameplay standpoint, me and scott have one of the best games currently (i think) with scott edging me slightly since he hasnt got any votes yet, but we're working together really well and like i feel like i can talk game to him really well... so the plan is that we take out david this round, we round up mo (idk about ahrre) for next vote and blindside ryan, and then from there we take out ahrre, and then me and him are in f4 with two goats. He wants to go to f3 with me while taking one goat (or so he says he does) but im gonna start making moves on scott at f4, if i can take out scott at f4 that leaves me a huge opening to take the game all the way till the end... but maybe i'm thinking too far ahead

Lowkey tho like... I kinda want ahrre out over david at this point... i feel like ahrre has built some sort of barrier in our relationship for no reason. like i've shown huuuge interest in working with him in the past, but he's just gone against me and even voted me last tribal in SPITE of me??? like??? everything he's done has landed him in the minority LMFAOOOOOOO LIKE get your head out of your ass and realize that i actually want to work with you!!! and like to get ryan out at f6 we're gonna need numbers and im not sure how comfortable i am with depending on mo to flip with us, the problem with telling ahrre is that hes soooo unpredictable like, he might just go and tell ryan everything me and scott are doing and then bam there goes everything... i understand wanting david out now since he's an immunity threat but thinking about all  the blindsides I need to pull off like... I wanna keep david but I don't have numbers to keep him so I'll just have to bite the bullet on this one

So!! i lost challenge. again. lol xd

missus david and his ragtag bunch of misfits who dk how to Not piss everyone off are now deciding to vote me after unsuccessfully voting everyone else. (: BC THATS GUNNA WORK OUT FOR THEM.

like bitch.. work w/ the majority. they arent even TRYING. its lowkey kinda sad but its their own faults they put themselves in this position...

the tea is even tho i have my idol im only playing it @ f6/f5 OR if david idols. like. tobi/ryan def wont vote me and rhys will just follow ryan i think NNNN

wisj me luck x

Fuck. I have a really tough decision to make. I’d like to say I’m the swing vote but I don’t actually know 100%. I can choose to vote with David, Rhys and Ahrre or Ryan, Scott and Tobi. My main concern with this vote as a whole is jury management because I don’t want someone to leave unhappy with me but that’s really tough to do. I said previously my two concerns are David and Ryan when it comes to who I don’t wanna be sitting next to at FTC. A final four with David is scary because he’s a comp beast. A final four with Ryan is scary because he is super close with Scott and Tobi. This is a headache.

Well so last vote was funky dunky. So rhys sticked with the majority because he considered Jones to be a bigger threat than Tobi due to her connections.... Then the vote comes around and literally everyone lied to Jones about the vote LMAO.

So me mo and david followed thru with the tobi vote but it was to no avail, mainly because rhys not only flipped but he let him know I was gunning for him. Meanwhile the rest convicted Jones to vote me, probably by telling her some lie about how I was after her. While they all voted for her.

So there goes Jones and my no votes streak with her RIP. So after all of that I decided it was time for me to try and win imunity and while I was close Tobi just edged me the fecker.

So now we have an immune tobi and depend on rhys to flip for real this time. I hope he realizes that if he doesn't then everything is fucked but now it doesn't even depend on him. Since it's between Ryan and Scott and it's f7 the chances of an idol being played are high.

David is worried it might be him they're going after but idk anything could happen.

hmm so I've been busy today and haven't been talking with everyone. but i believe the tiffany alliance is still on the same page of voting David. i heard from Scott that the other 3 are voting him and they think Rhys is voting with them so that's interesting. i'm defintiely feeling safe, and i feel like Scott isn't going anywhere either so yayy final 6 here we go. I also talked with Scott about taking out Tobi sometime before final 3 because he's definitely a big jury threat, and he can definitely win immunities so if we get a chance to take him out we might hop on that. A final 3 of me/Scott/Rhys sounds pretty ideal and i think me or Scott would take home the win whew

david got another thing coming if he thinks he can idol me out... thats tea lol :)

So I lost the challenge yesterday...and yet I'm hearing that I'm not getting any votes tonight o.O which I don't believe for one second, cuz if they were smart, they would take me out tonight.

As I'm hearing...me, Mo, Ahrre and Rhys are gonna be voting for Scott, and Ryan, Scott and Tobi are voting Ahrre...because they think that I have the idol, LMFAOOO. WHICH IS TOO FUNNY OMG. I WISH I HAD THAT FUCKING IDOL, LOL.

Okay, so one side thinks Scott is going, One side thinks David is going. Meanwhile im in the middle lieing to half the tribe trying to stop an idol getting played to save my closest ally. Yeet.

Ok so according to rhys they're gonna be voting me since they're worried about david having an idol. But maybe that's just rhys playing the long con. Either way there's a sizeable chance I could be going home this week but hey third time's the charm amarite maybe this blindside will work once in for fucking all. Anyhow let's see how this thing goes.

David is voted out 4-3.

#royallyyours #episode

[ishomoogoo]

For His Amusement Ch1

this comes after Before the Fall. there are mentions of murder, blood, sex, and swearing but nothing explicit or detailed. i appreciate feedback, it helps me write better and my beta reader, DamiaOfLight, doesn’t catch everything. this has been posted on fanfiction and ao3 if you want to check it out there.

Blood, that’s all I see. Blood, then Dolarhyde, the Red fucking Dragon. For all his puffed up ambitions, all he amounted to was a busted up pile of flesh and blood. Fuck, am I shaking? Whose panting breaths are those? God, that was amazing! Where is Hannibal? I’m pretty sure we were fighting together. I slowly stand on wobbly legs and turn from the man we killed.

My god, we fucking killed together! I guess Hannibal finally got what he wanted after all. Well, after the sex of course. Couldn’t even enjoy the afterglow before Francis here barges in and goes on about his “becoming” and attacking us. Well, at least he waited for us to get dressed. Still an asshole though.

Still trying to get my breath under control, I look at Hannibal, my new lover and murder accomplice. He just looks at me, covered in blood, looking radiant and just a little smug, the bastard. He’s panting as well, but not as much, since I assume he had a little more time to compose himself. I stumble over to him and he catches me, his hands cradling my face like so many times before; my hands gripping his shoulders, trying to stay upright. I close my eyes as he caresses my face then pulls me in, sharing a tired kiss. Both of us exhausted from the fight.

We soon part and then embrace fully, Hannibal rubbing soothing hands down my trembling back and sides, me just clinging to him. I feel a laugh bubbling deep inside my chest, waiting to spill out. I soon hear him murmuring into my ear as he inhales my scent.

“Sweet Will, beautiful Will. You were amazing, you have finally become what you were meant to be.”

I just hum as my body finally calms down enough to notice that we are precariously close to the edge of the cliff, the wind blowing strong as a storm threatens to roll in and sweep us away. But I can’t move, I don’t want to, I want time to stop and live in this moment with him forever. Shit, am I horny again? What the hell, maybe we could fuck on the Dragons’ corpse. I’ve already thrown all my morals out the window anyway; why not throw some kinks into the mix as well?

I pull out of his embrace, Hannibal releasing me only to arms length, hands still fastened to my elbows. We just admire each other, breath finally evening out; just when I find my voice again, Hannibal shouts, having to raise his voice over the rising wind.

“Well, now that the danger has passed, let us go back to the house and get cleaned up. I must say that we have more than earned some rest. We will need to disappear soon though, I doubt Jack will let us be for long.”

I tilt my head and smirk at him as he starts tugging us away from the cliff.

“Aw, and here I was hoping to add insult to injury and reaffirm our relationship on his still warm and bleeding corpse.”

Still walking, he turns his head towards me and lifts a mordant brow.

“The hazards of fornicating upon the deceased not withstanding, I doubt we will be very comfortable if the weather continues to worsen as it has been over the course of the fight.”

“Tight ass.”

There is just the slightest upturn to his lips as he turns back to the path before us. Just then, the sky opens up and icy cold rain starts hammering down over us. I grimace and start running towards the light of the house we left earlier. I barely hear Hannibal shout at me as our hands slip apart. I try to stay focused as the rain starts blocking the light out as well as blurring the surroundings together in a dark grey howling mess.

I figure I’m just about there when I feel the ground slip under my right foot, and a freezing hand slips over my left wrist. I think gravity won out in the brief seconds I teetered on the edge, because the next thing I know is a strong gust of wind and I’m tipping to the right completely. As I feel myself falling, I barely register being wrapped in Hannibal’s arms as I look up to see crashing waves falling down upon us.

Oh.

Shit.

I jerk and gasp as I struggle in the dark as something suffocates me. After a few moments I manage to kick free of the blankets I was apparently wrapped in. Was it a dream? I don’t hurt nearly enough for having fallen off a cliff.

My breathing calms down and I look around, well try to anyway. It appears to be nighttime, and I can’t see much apart from a lamp that is perched on the nightstand. I lean over and fumble for the knob before freezing. Either it’s way too dark or I’m going crazy, because it looks like my arm is way smaller than it should be. Shaking my head, I turn the lamp on and look around.

I then look around again; because there is no way that I am here, unless someone recreated my childhood home in Louisiana. Maybe I did go crazy. I shake my head then swing my legs over the edge of the bed, freezing again before lurching up and rushing into the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror. From what I can see, because my chest is level with the rim of the sink, I am exactly the same age as I was before Dad moved us to New Orleans. I shakily take in the wide blue eyes, pale sickly skin, and badly cut curls that I definitely shouldn’t be seeing again. No old faded scars or fresh wounds from a fight I’m sure I just had, just a scrawny pale child who looks absolutely terrified.

Double shit.

I’m sitting on the bed when dawn filters into the filthy trailer window. I blankly stare out at the scenery while still trying to figure out what was going on. It’s been a few days since I woke up drenched in my own sweat and, apparently, 28 years younger. The day I woke up was rather uneventful, all things considered. Dad went to work at the shop, like he usually did back then, and I pretty much piddled about the trailer trying to find clues as to what was going on and hoping that it was all a dream. The second day I had to go to school, and I stopped thinking I was just dreaming while everything I knew tilted on its axis.

Here’s what I know so far. It’s 1990 and I’m 13 again, which means I have puberty to look forward to again. Great. Things don’t stop there, oh no; I didn’t just go back in time, but it seems that I may in some weird, fucked up alternate reality. I probably wouldn’t have thought this except for some gossip I over heard from some teachers that I never found very memorable the first time around.

When my alarm chirps loudly, I sigh and close my eyes to the image of the grimy, rusted trailer that sits outside my window. I open them back up and reach over to turn it off, finally getting up and getting ready for the day. Where is the library again? There is no way I’m going to school while I have no clue what’s going on. I need to read up and see what, exactly, is different about this place. Integrating into a new world will be much harder if I don’t know things that are supposedly common sense here. The first thing I’m looking into is this alpha, beta, whatever stuff the teachers were talking about, and what presenting has to do with it.

After going through the morning motions, I pick up my small ragged backpack and make sure my notebook and pencils are in it, since I don’t want dad thinking something’s up and I want to take notes. I then grab my premade sandwich and head out the door. Pausing to get my bearings, I head out of the trailer park and to the road, turning right. I hope this is the right direction, I have to walk everywhere and I never did have the best stamina before I joined the force.

It takes a little over an hour to get to the small, barely maintained building that, from my memory, only housed old newspapers and a small collection of encyclopedias and various worn out novels. Since the Internet is still in it’s early stages and a small town like this won’t have the money for a computer of any kind, I will have to personally go through as many newspapers as possible as well as skim the encyclopedias. It will take most of the day at minimum, and I may have to come back on the weekend to look at anything I have missed. As long as I get back home at a reasonable hour, dad shouldn’t know I skipped and I can go back to school with a better idea of the goings on around here.

I slowly push open the surprisingly well-oiled door and quickly look around. Not seeing anyone, I quickly dart over to where I believe the books are and grab the first three volumes of the partially worn encyclopedias. I then go to a secluded corner I spotted earlier and sit down against the wall to begin reading, starting with the A’s. As I open the first book, I skim the pages not finding much different until I come across the word Alpha. And now the words of those women make a whole lot more sense.

From what I overheard, the class clown in trailer 3 just presented as an Alpha even though everyone expected him to be a Beta since both his parents were Betas. At the time, this conversation made no sense because no one in my knowledge are dogs and operate on pack dynamics; and they sure as hell weren’t referring to the Greek alphabet. Not only did I time travel, but I also managed to wind up in a world where people had not one, but two genders. I slam the open book against my forehead and groan. Just fuck me sideways why don’t you, not only do I have to go through puberty again, I can’t even rely on my past experience since I may have to contend with a whole new set of hormones and anatomy.

I shudder and then remove my face from the innocent book, flipping to the entry on Betas and locating the correct tome with the entry on Omegas. Might as well see what I may have to prepare for. After reading everything those books have to offer I can summarize the contents into a rather simple mental list.

One, Alphas make up around 30% of the total world population and are the most aggressive of the genders. They have a very particular scent that is secreted from special glands in the body that help them to intimidate others, soothe and comfort a mate or family members, as well as help attract a mate. The glands at the base of the throat must be bitten to form a bond with their mate, which only works if it is an Omega they are paired with. It seems this bite must be re applied regularly or the bond will fade over time. Alphas can go into something called a rut when their mate is receptive or goes into heat and have something called a knot at the base of their sexual organ to ensure conception after intercourse. They are generally bigger built and the males tend to have more body hair than their Beta counterparts. I know for sure that I am not one of these just by considering my personality alone. I don’t even want to know how an Alpha female works.

Up next are the Betas. I personally think that’s what I am since they are relatively normal by my old world’s standards. They have a very neutral scent compared to the other two genders and are mildly tempered. Not much else to say about them other than they don’t have mating glands and make up most of the population. They still have scent glands but the scent tends to be weak and generally unappealing to the other genders.

Last are the Omegas. These seem to be what many would call the “fairer” sex. Physically, they are smaller and weaker than their two counterparts, and over all very feminine, with soft features and very little body hair. This includes the males, who seem to be built for child-rearing like their female counterparts. They have a unique scent like the Alphas, and have glands just like the Alphas as well. They make up less of the population than the Alphas and are the most fertile of the sexes. The thing that struck me the most was that not only females, but the males can also give birth, though there are far more female Omegas than male. Again, I don’t really want to know how that works. Other than periodic heats and submissive behavior, there isn’t much else to mention about them.

I heave out a breath and shake my head, my curls bouncing against my skull. When was my hair last cut? Oh well, doesn’t really matter. I need to see what time it is before I decide what to read next. I huff my way up form the floor, my legs groaning and seizing from the awful position I was in, and walk over to the clock on the wall. Looks like I barely have enough time to get home just a bit later than normal. I go back and pick up the books I had piled on the floor and place them back in their places before hurrying back home.

#hannigram #sherlock #a/b/o verse #alternate universe