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paranetics · 4 years

Note

hiya could you do a kiadam for 17. and 22.? if your not too busy. thanks !!

17. “Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…” 22. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

He’s completely minding his own business, being friendly with his physics textbook, all pressed up against the end of the bookshelf in the library, successfully having a love affair with headache-inducing math equations, when Mira ambushes him.

“Hiya,” she says, suddenly right in his face.

“Aisghls!” he gurgles, in a completely manly way, thank you. She sits back on her heels and laughs at him, loud and mocking. He scowls at her.

Her braces are blue now, matching the streaks in her hair. She looks nice, he decides, all neon green and blue. The loudness of her wardrobe suits her -- she’d be strange to him if she ever tried to tone it down.

“Oh, man, you should’ve seen your face.”

“Fuck you,” Kai snaps, smoothing out the pages of his book. “I am busy learning how to destroy the AP Phys exam. Stop being a distraction.”

She pouts at him. “Come on, you're seriously not still mad at me about the ceramic pig.”

“I’m always going to be mad at you about the ceramic pig,” he says primly. Then he sighs, unable to resist. “What’s up?”

Her smile turns bright, and his heart does that familiar little stutter. Kai has always, always loved her. Sure, she’s Adam’s best friend and has inclinations more Reeve-based, but there’s always going to be something about her that just catches him in the right spot. He’s over it now, and he has erm, other areas of interest, but she’ll always be special.

“Nessa’s having a party--”

“Ugh,” Kai interrupts.

“--with alcohol--”

“Double ugh.”

“And cute boys will be there,” Mira wheedles, whipping out her best puppy-eyes.

“I don’t care,” Kai says, shuffling away from her and looking back at his textbook. The particles will... he reads.

“Adam will be there,” she tries. Obvious trump card. Goddammit.

He cuts his eyes toward her, calculating. She’s grinning, triumphant, confident that she’s got him. He groans internally, because it’s either that he goes to this party and enjoys at least twelve percent of it, or Mira and Adam will wake him up from a dead sleep sometime in the AM, drunk and needy.

Part of his resistance is a lie, he always likes parties. He doesn’t like Vanessa, but she’s Reeve’s friend, and by proxy, Mira’s friend. He can pretend to like her for one night, especially if he gets to hang out with people. What can he say, extroversion. It’s a disease.

It’s just, recently, there’s been this trend. It’s like he’s been cursed.

Kai pretends to think about it.

“Fine,” he grits out.

“Yay!” Mira says, standing up and doing a little celebratory wiggle. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and unlocks it. “I’ll add you to the group text. Also, I want Reeve to drive me so you’re taking Adam alone okay bye.”

“Huh,” Kai says as she speed-walks away from him. “What? Hey!”

But she’s gone, vaguely eucalyptus-scented-shampoo left in her wake. Alone? With Adam? Fuck.

His phone buzzes.

Group: party 🎉🥂🥳🎊 time

mirakat added humantorchkai to the group

abeaverdam: Oh he’s coming?

lochnessa: Damn I didn’t know he left his house anymore

mirakat: ya i cornered his ass in th library

mirakat: hes a total slut 4 skool

mirakat: kais my bitch tho lol so ya hes comin

mirakat: dam hes drivin u

abeaverdam: Is that ok kai?

humantorchkai: yeah

humantorchkai: when?

lochnessa: Friday.

Kai’s late to first period on Wednesday, which Reeve notices, and bugs him about for ten minutes straight. He rolls in twenty minutes after the bell, wearing the clothes he left on his bedroom floor, all rumpled up and disorganized, and without a note. He drops into his seat and makes it approximately two minutes before Reeve leans over, into his space, and starts the interrogation.

“Oh my God,” Kai says to the ceiling. “For the last time, my alarm didn’t go off.”

“My Spidey-senses tell me you’re a liar,” Reeve says, and seriously, what does Mira see in this complete dork? He’s so nosy.

Kai drags his gaze from the ceiling to stare at him. “I think your janky-ass ‘spider-sense’ needs a psych eval.”

Reeve crosses his arms and sniffs at him. “Rude. I thought we were friends.”

“We are--” Kai scrubs his hands through his hair violently, frustrated. He catches the smirk on Reeve’s face. “Hey! That doesn’t work on me anymore. I’ve evolved.”

The smirk doesn’t leave Reeve’s face.

The truth is, Kai’s late because he had a nightmare. Or a wet dream. Depends on your definition of either thing. It’s been reoccurring pretty consistently, and Kai always wakes up from it breathing hard, adrenaline in his veins, and a hard-on. Today just happened to be shittier, and he couldn’t get back to sleep right away, so he overslept when his alarm went off.

It’s pretty much the worst, been happening for almost a month, and Kai is slowly losing his mind. But. whatever, the important part is this: he’s with Adam, and Adam kisses him. They could be in space, or in a submarine, or whatever Kai’s subconscious feels like cooking up. They could be anything, pirates, elven rebel warriors, it doesn't matter. In every dream, Kai’s with Adam, and at some point Adam leans over, the smell of Hennessy whiskey on his breath, and kisses Kai.

It’s why Kai’s been so rigid lately, avoiding his friends and refusing to go to parties, because of what happened Last Time he’d gone.

Mad Libs! Fill in the blanks, Sherlock.

He’s so totally, totally, totally screwed. And no one is allowed to know, not even Reeve, who knows Adam’s a flirty drunk and that Kai’s pathetic, and hasn’t even told anyone any of Kai’s other secrets, because this? This is world-ending levels of FUCK.

So, when the bell rings, Kai basically sprints out the door to avoid Reeve.

Group: party 🎉🥂🥳🎊 time

speedyskeet: should i bring da weed

reever: ohhh shiiiit hell yeah

lochnessa: No LSD though

speedyskeet: :O

speedyskeet: um ok MOM

reever: wtf ness

reever: psychedelic rights!!!

speedyskeet: let me get us fkd up!!

mirakat: wait didnt we hav 2 call an ambulance 4 coop last time u brought more than weed to a party

mirakat: or was tht a different school

speedyskeet: .........

speedyskeet: ok so im assuming edibles and my bong right

Kai takes his lunch to Mr Tucker’s room.

Mr Tucker is the APUS history teacher for the senior class, and he is the only non-STEM teacher that Kai likes. Mira is also his favorite student, so he lets them eat lunch in his room. It’s better than fighting for a spot in the crowded cafeteria, and Kai likes hiding from the rest of the student body.

Adam, Reeve, and Mira are sitting at one of the table groups when Kai walks in with his plate of chicken nuggets, Vanessa and Skeet nowhere to be seen. They’re probably getting high in the parking lot.

Mr Tucker is scrolling through youtube, his computer desktop displayed on the projector screen.

“Why’d you look up Nyan cat?” Kai asks, tilting his head as he watches Mr Tucker scroll.

“It’s stuck in his head,” Mira pipes up, helpfully.

Mr Tucker grunts confirmation and apparently selects the version he likes. Reeve groans when it starts playing, slumping forward over his tuna salad. Mr Tucker picks up his normal vegetable-based salad, his bushy mustache wiggling in that way that means he’s smiling.

Kai sits next to Reeve, across from Adam. Mistake, Kai realizes too late. Big mistake. Because now they have to make eye contact, and Kai’s belly catches fire at the memory of drunkAdamhe’sKISSINGMESOMEONEHELP when he looks down at his plate of chicken nuggets. It’ll be obvious on his face in a few moments, he’s never been able to fight off a blush well, and then there’s going to be Questions. Capital-Q Questions.

But Reeve’s talking about, like, whatever drama majors talk about, and when Kai chances a peek up, Adam’s not looking at him. So.

Kai can’t help it, okay? He’s creepy. Sue him. No wait, that’s not-- ugh.

Kai studies the contours of Adam’s face while he’s not looking. His high cheekbones and his sharp chin. His heavy eyebrows that are shaped perfectly (”Ugh, you’re so fucking gross,” Reeve had said when Kai had voiced this thought aloud. “His eyebrows? I think you need to ask him out. Get it out of your system.”) and his eyes are that warm shade of brown, almost gold, soft and kind.

His hair is longer now, and errant curls flop over his forehead and around his ears. Kai watches the long line of Adam’s throat when he tilts his head back from the force of laughing at something Reeve said. Kai’s transfixed by the inviting stretch of dark skin, entertaining a thought of leaning over and just biting down so it’s not his fault he doesn’t see it coming when Reeve violently jabs him in the rib.

Kai jumps. “Ah! What the fuck?”

“Language,” Mr Tucker says in the toneless inflection of someone who doesn’t really care but responds on reflex. He’s now scrolling through Seasame Street videos.

Reeve shrugs, unrepentant. “You were gone there, dude.”

“Yeah,” Adam agrees, eyebrows raised in polite curiosity. “Planet Zenon gone.”

Kai ducks his head. “I’m, uh, stressed about AP physics?” he tries.

“Uh-huh,” Reeve says, “and are you asking us to confirm that for you?”

“Leave him alone,” Mira interrupts mildly. “Only, like, a hundred people a year get above a three on that exam.”

“Wow, how is that class still funded?” Adam asks.

“Elitism?” Mira guesses. “Maybe it’s like, a torture thing. Like, a test within a test.”

“What,” Reeve says, “like, if you pass you can become a super-secret spy?”

“Or I can, like, do another Chernobyl. Or I’m allowed secret access to government secrets. Ooh, maybe they’ll tell me the moon is a projection into the sky.” Kai says, warming to this idea.

“Then how would they explain waves?” Reeve asks.

“Uh, giant wave pool,” Kai answers.

“Hot take: the world is in a giant wave pool,” Mira grins at him.

Adam blinks almost in slow-motion, the sweep of his eyelashes against his cheeks, a smile growing on his face, and Kai is once again caught like a fly in honey. Just like that, all the saliva is gone from Kai’s mouth, and he’s completely lost the thread of whatever’s happening around him.

Okay, so, recap: totally, totally, totally screwed.

adam: U sure you’re ok driving me?

kai: dam i swear its fine

kai: i’d say something if it was a problem

kai: my parents have been trying to kick me out basically every weekend, this’ll make them so fucking happy

adam: Lol

adam: [A stock photo of two white parents sitting on a beach towel in a tropical location, smiling adoringly at each other. In the blurry background, a toddler with similar skin color and hair is being attacked by a seagull.]

“There is a PROBLEM!” Kai announces, flopping heavily onto his bed, tossing an arm dramatically over his forehead. Mira doesn’t even look up at him.

“Hm?” she says from the floor, knees drawn up to her chest, eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. She’s looking more at her iPad than at him.

“Oh my God,” Kai groans. “You don’t even care. I’m nothing to you. You enjoy my suffering.”

“Die white man,” Mira says tonelessly. “I’m trying to beat my old high score in Tetris. What’s your damage.”

“I have nothing to wear on Friday,” Kai moans, pained.

“What? Why do you even care? Your regular clothes are fine.”

“Oh my God, Mira! It’s a party,” Kai breathes the word like its holy, a precious thing nestled in the crook of his tongue, not to be defiled by people who wear school clothes to special events. “And I want to get hit on.”

“I’ll hit on you,” Mira promises. The iPad makes a wah-wah-wah sound. She sighs, setting it aside and looking up at him, expression thoroughly unamused, clearly blaming him for her high-score loss.

“I did not do that,” Kai says. The blood’s started rushing to his head, so he sits up and blinks away the black spots as they dance in front of his vision. “I just wanna be hot,” he whines.

“Okay, so, wear that stupid blue button-up with the tigers on it, and the black skinny jeans. It brings out your eyes,” she elaborates. “And tucked-in button-ups are hot on dudes. Oh, and--”

“If you’re gonna Queer Eye me, I swear to God,” Kai complains.

“Will you just... I was gonna say you should wear a tiny bit of eyeliner. It’s like, accentuating your features or some shit.”

“Why should I trust you?” Kai asks playfully. “I’ve never seen you go anywhere near a make-up in my life.”

Mira shrugs. “I saw it on Instagram. Anyways, Reeve said I have ‘good bone structure’, what does that even mean?”

“That he’s an idiot and I can’t believe you’re into him?” Kai ventures. Mira glares at him, so Kai leans back on the bed, rolling his eyes up to the bedroom ceiling at the glow-in-the-dark stick-on stars that have been there since he was seven. “Okay, okay. He was probably trying to compliment you, but since he’s a robot sent by aliens to infiltrate the earth he did it in a really bizarre way.”

Mira perks up. “You think?”

“He said ‘good’.”

“What should I say back?”

“Erm, that you’ll have his babies?”

Mira throws one of her glittery highlighter pens at him. It bounces off the center of his forehead and onto his lap. He laughs, picking it up and tossing it back.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Maybe say that you like his bones, too.”

Mira takes out her phone.

adam: [A picture of a pina colada sitting on a kitchen counter in a pool of sunlight.]

adam: Winky face

kai: you could just like, use the emoji keyboard instead of typing it out

adam: Don’t make me frowny face

Kai spends fifteen minutes messing with his hair in the mirror. He gels it sticking up, twists his mouth critically at his reflection, and wets his hands to wipe it out. Nothing’s working for him today. It’s just one of those things, his clothes seem to hang off him awkwardly, and nothing looks right.

He makes a sound of frustration, and his mom pokes her head into the bathroom.

“Oh,” she says. “I thought you were going to a party?”

“Mom,” he growls. “I’m getting ready!”

“Hm.”

She pushes the door all the way open, surveys him from head to toe, and reaches over to run a hand through his hair, leaving parts sticking up in her wake. Kai looks in the mirror. Now, instead of awkward ‘trying-too-hard’, he looks artfully tousled. He unbuttons two top buttons of his tiger shirt, and messes with the collar to make it look like someone had grabbed it and reeled him in for a kiss. He grins at himself.

“That’s better, I think,” she says.

“Thanks Mom,” he says, shuffling past her and out to the hallway.

“Limit yourself to three drinks!” she calls as he stuffs his feet into old converse. “If you get too intoxicated to drive, spend the night! Just text! Don’t forget to wear condoms and--”

Kai shuts the door in her face.

His car is a silver Prius, owned five times prior to him. The interior always smells a little bit like shamrock shake and in the winter requires a prayer and three engine turnovers to start. Kai loves it.

He pulls up to Adam’s street and texts without looking that he’s close. He parks in the street, and jogs up to Adam’s front door. He raps his knuckles on Adam’s door, the red one with caterpillar decals, and a blue handprint on the doorknob.

Adam throws open the door. “Gimme a sec, gotta grab my jacket.”

He’s wearing a white shirt and Kai’s favorite jeans of his (do Not judge him, okay, liking your crush’s ass is basically a given and is no longer considered a sin under the New Testament, so really Kai’s not weird for liking this pair of Adam’s jeans because it accentuates his butt.), the ones with rips in the thigh and at both knees, because Adam lives reckless and dies reckless.

He jams his feet into vans and grabs the heavy olive jacket off the coatrack and follows Kai out to the Prius.

“You look nice,” Adam says, offhand. Kai feels how hot his face immediately gets and hopes it isn’t ugly, sometimes his blushes look like a rash.

“Thanks,” he says, rubbing his neck, right hand fumbling for his keys.

They slide into their seats, and Kai is hit with the violent-sense memory of Hennesy whiskey, and dark streetlamps, and Adam’s soft voice and brown puppy-dog eyes imploring Kai, look at me. Look at me, please. And. And.

His phone buzzes.

“Oh, Vanessa wants us to pick up some soda,” Kai says through the rock in his throat.

“Ooh, ooh. Cherry 7-Up, Jarritos Lime, uh like, a ton of Mountain Dew... and Coke! We’ll need Coke,” Adam rambles as Kai pulls away from the street and heads toward the local general store.

mira: WHERE

mira: R

mira: U

mira: 2

mira: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Kai frowns at his phone. They’re in the check-out line, waiting for their turn with about three tons of soda on the conveyer. Kai’s got a fifty dollar bill from his parents, because they’re stupidly open-minded, but he’s still gonna make Vanessa pay him back. Adam’s inspecting the tabloids, making comments about all of the covers and whatever he thinks about them.

kai: WE’RE

kai: FUCKING

(Not sent !) kai: GETTING

(Not sent !) kai: DRINKS

mira: FUHDUK WHATTTT!!!?????????

Kai groans.

The party’s already alive by the time Adam and Kai get there, music thrumming against the walls of the house, the glass panes of the windows shaking with the vibrations. Weighed down by plastic bags full of drinks, and a little bit anxious, Kai fumbles with the door handle three times until Adam reaches over him and opens it.

The crowd is huge. He didn’t even know that Vanessa and Skeet knew this many people. There’s a wall of heat that hits them when they step inside, the difference between the inside and outside must be a solid ten degrees. Most people are crammed in the living room, near the speakers, where a sort of impromptu dancefloor has evolved. There are plenty of people lining the hallways, sitting on the stairs, and spilling over into the other places of the house.

Vanessa has changed the lightbulbs to fuschia, cobalt, and teal colors, so the house looks almost like a club from a TV show. There’s this haze over everything - and, yep, definitely Skeet’s weed - that makes it seem smoky and mysterious. Adam kicks the door shut behind them as they begin to navigate the crowd.

Skeet’s leaning against one of the walls, talking to a tiny girl with piercings and too much eyeliner. She tosses her head, her hair flying up like a halo for a moment, luminescent in the multicolored lights of the house, and leans closer to Skeet. She’s holding a red solo cup, Skeet’s holding weed, and Kai’s arms are starting to hurt from all the soda.

“So, your, like, real name is Skeet? What kind of name is that? I mean, like, who does that to their kid?” she’s asking, valley girl accent and everything, even twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

Skeet shrugs, unbothered. “My parents are hippies.” he spots them, then, and lifts his joint in a get over here gesture. Kai and Adam shove some people to stand in front of him. He grins. “Oh, dudes, nice. You got drinks. I wasn’t sure if you would, since Mira told us that you, uh, made a pit stop.” he waggles his eyebrows.

Kai groans, flushing.

“Uh, yeah,” Adam says, lifting up his bags. “for drinks? Hello?”

Skeet leers, grin stretching bigger. Kai scowls. He’s going to eat her one day, all Hannibal-Lecter style.

“Where is Mira, anyway?” he cuts in before Skeet says anything weird. “Where should we put the drinks?”

“Oh, just, you know,” Skeet makes a vague gesture with his hand that doesn’t really mean anything. “I think I saw her in the kitchen?”

“Thanks,” Kai mutters, shoving through the crowd and deeper into the house.

Mira and Vanessa are leaning against the sink, Reeve’s standing at the counter, completely covered in bottles of alcohol, thumb and forefinger at his chin like he’s surveying fine art.

“Oh! You made it! I hate vodka without coke,” Mira says, striding forward and grabbing the bags from Adam.

Kai followers her back to the counter, and shoves the receipt into Vanessa’s limp hands without looking at her. Together, Kai and Mira start to set up the drink line, stacking up all the empty red cups at the edge of the counter as they try to make sure all the soda and alcohol are equally accessible. How Skeet even gets this stuff... he shudders to think.

Kai waits until Adam and Reeve have wandered out of earshot to lean into Mira’s space. Vanessa had vacated the premise the moment it looked like any physical work would be happening, so he doesn’t worry about her particular brand of nosiness. He takes his phone out of his pocket and tilts the screen so she can see it.

“My texts didn’t send,” he tells her in a low voice. “We weren’t actually, you know.” he flushes violently.

Mira shoots him a grin. “No, I guessed that something had happened. It was just funny. You look nice.”

He smiles at her, genuinely, which means his gums are probably showing. She looks nice too, in her little black dress with a flared skirt and combat boots. The neon green streaks in her hair glow in the weird light of the house.

“I like your outfit,” he says. The din in the background is starting to grow. More people have probably showed up.

She nods at his jeans. “Cuffed jeans. The true mark of a bisexual.”

Kai nods very seriously. “I can’t leave my house without announcing every aspect of my sexuality to the entire world.”

Adam’s talking to a group of people at the other end of the kitchen, his smile is blindly white in the pink light, skin pitched a shade darker, a stark difference against the glow of his white shirt. Staring, unable to look away, Kai steals Mira’s cup and takes a swig. It’s straight vodka, so Kai coughs immediately when it hits his tongue.

Mira laughs at him.

Group: party 🎉🥂🥳🎊 time

speedyskeet: do any of u know anyone named travis montery

mirakat: no

lochnessa: No

abeaverdam: Nope!

humantorchkai: no

reever: nah

speedyskeet: fucking L lmao

speedyskeet: im kicking this fool out then

Kai’s wandering around, pleasantly buzzed from two Cherry 7-Ups with a tiny bit of vodka, looking for any familiar face. Mira and Reeve had abandoned him pretty much straight away, he’d left Adam alone in the kitchen, and he’s actively avoiding Vanessa.

He stumbles around, moving his shoulders a bit in time with the music, his body gone languid and loose from the heat and the alcohol and the atmosphere.

His phone beeps at him again. He really hopes it's not Skeet checking with them before he bounces a guy again. It’s just Mira, he sees, when he’s fumbled his phone out of his back pocket. He has to squint to read in the pink light amid the thrumming bodies of people all around him.

Eventually, he escapes the crowd and heads down the stairs to the “game room” and finds another living room, with a soft white carpet and a couch in front of a big flatscreen. There’s a group of about a dozen kids, plus Kai’s friends, sitting on the carpet in a circle by the couch, with a beer bottle laying on a Monopoly game board. Kai blinks, the lights here aren’t fun colors, and everyone in the circle raises their arms and cheers when they see him.

He walks over to them. Mira grabs his arm and begins to drag him onto the carpet beside her. The group begins to chant.

“Spin the bottle! Spin the bottle!”

Oh, no fuck, Kai thinks, beginning to resist Mira’s grip on his arm. His drink is sloshing about, and Kai holds it away from his shirt and pants as he tries to reverse his crouch and pull his arm back. Skeet reaches up and confiscates the cup, downing the rest of it in one go.

“Spin the bottle! Spin the bottle! Spin the bottle!”

But he’s buzzed and his coordination is spotty, so when Adam reaches out with his hand and spins the beer bottle, Mira tugs once, hard, and Kai crashes onto the carpet, and the bottle spins,

and spins,

and spins.

And points the neck straight at Kai’s disheveled spot in the circle.

So, let’s revisit that cursed theory, shall we?

Kai looks at Adam, and Adam looks at him. He’s got that dopey half-smile on his face, and his pupils are blown wide, iris a thin gold ring around them. Kai knows when Adam’s drunk, or blackout, and he’s tipsy right now, just like Kai. And... oh no. But the kids in the circle are jeering, giggling delightedly.

“Uh,” Kai says.

Adam licks his lips, and Kai tracks the movement of his tongue helplessly. His eyes are moving on Kai’s face, like he’s cataloging everything, like he can’t keep them still. Kai’s mouth is very, very dry, and he misses having the cup in his hand.

“So, uh,” he says, and the tension buzzes even harder. “Is this, like, a kissing thing?”

Skeet grabs him by the arms and manhandles him up. Reeve and Vanessa grab Adam and start frogmarching them down the short hall toward some rooms and closed doors.

“No,” Skeet says, “This is more like a seven minutes in heaven thing.”

“Wait,” Kai says. Skeet reaches past him and opens a door. “Wait.” Skeet pushes him in, and Adam follows behind. “Wait.” The door clicks shut, then there's a clunk, then the sound of something heavy being pushed against the door.

Kai tries the knob, but it's locked. He jiggles it, but his muscles won’t cooperate and yank hard enough. Adam could probably break it open, but Kai has the vague thought of Vanessa’s parents and property damage, and underage drinking.

“Guys!” Adam yells. He pounds on the door with his fist. “Guys! This isn’t funny!”

But they don’t answer.

Evil. Mental note: make sure your friends aren’t evil next time.

“Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while,” Kai sighs, giving up on the door.

They’ll just have to wait out the seven-minute sentence. It’s simultaneously worse and so much better than the alternative. This way, Adam won’t have to kiss Kai if he doesn’t want to. But also: he won’t have to kiss Kai if he doesn’t want to. It’s a testament to how drunk all of them really are.

Kai turns, presses his back against the door, and slides down it, pulling his knees to his chest, wrapping his hands around his shins, and resting his cheek on his knee. He surveys the room. It’s small and dark, Kai doesn’t have the wherewithal to search for the light switch, but from what Kai can see it looks like a guest room no one ever uses and has accumulated with old junk. There’s a tiny window at the opposite wall that leads up to the lawn. Adam groans and drops onto the ground beside Kai.

The night is clear the moonlight is touching the window and peeking into the room. Adam’s shirt is glowing against his skin from the moonlight, his eyes a bright point in the semi-dark of the room. Kai locks eyes with Adam, and the tension from earlier crops back up tenfold.

This situation is... stupidly pointed. Kai’s pretty sure Reeve is the only person in the world who knows Kai thinks Adam is kinda hot, but he’d also have to be massively stupid to ignore the strain in their friend group lately.

Adam’s looking at him the way he does right before he reaches out to touch Kai’s hair, or brush his fingers against Kai’s freckles, or leans over to kiss Kai’s cheek. He’s looking at Kai like a hungry man, like he’s about to make the stupidest decision of his life and never look back. Kai can feel the pull of that look drawing him in, the temptation to run his hands against Adam’s chest, touching his shoulders or his mouth.

So Kai does the only thing he can think of.

“What did you think of that new Hey Arthur episode?”

Adam blinks at him. “Uh. You mean that kids show?”

Kai bites his lip and nods vigorously.

Totally. Totally. Totally screwed.

reeb: [A video of Mira on the dancefloor among a huge throng of teens. The song in the background is completely drowned out by people attempting to sing along drunkenly. She’s grinding against Vanessa, who’s wearing Skeet’s sunglasses and drinking a mimosa with a cocktail umbrella in it.]

(Not sent !) kai: let us out of here!!! its been like 15 mins!!!! guys!!! dam’s phone is dead!!!!!

(Not sent !) kai: goddamn it COME GET US

(Not sent !) kai: NOTHING IS SENDING!!

reeb: lol wya we cant find dam either

(Not sent !) kai: YOU LEFT US IN THE BASEMENT

“Ugh,” Kai says, flopping back down onto the pillows beside Adam. At some point during their imprisonment slash debate on the ethics of twenty-three seasons of the same children’s cartoon, they’d moved from the floor to the twin bed. “I’m pretty sure they forgot about us.”

“Well, it’s been like thirty minutes. And they’re drunk.”

Kai’s starting to sober up. He has to pee, and his mouth tastes like cherry coughdrops. He stands up on the bed, bouncing a bit on the mattress. He reaches up and touches the seam of the window and the sill.

“What are you doing?” Adam asks, trepidation in his voice.

“Uh, escaping?” Kai says.

Kai presses his foot onto the upside down elliptical that’s propped precariously against an old wardrobe. He puts some of his weight on it, testing. Satisfied that it won’t give, Kai lifts himself up onto it, closer to the window, and pushes against the glass pane. The window opens out suddenly, making Kai wobble. The wardrobe groans.

“Careful!” Adam barks.

Kai glances back at Adam, his worried eyes watching Kai from the bed, sitting up on his knees in a half crouch. Kai sticks his head out the narrow window, then his shoulders, and manages to drag himself up and out.

He turns back around and offers his hand to Adam.

“Come on,” he says. “I’ll help you out.”

Adam climbs up onto the elliptical like Kai had, reaches his right hand to Kai’s left and uses his left to leverage himself closer to the window. The wardrobe and the elliptical make that sound again, like they’re scraping together.

“Hurry!” Kai says, afraid of the whole makeshift apparatus falling apart. Adam’s left palm slaps against Kai’s right and Kai pulls.

The elliptical falls over as Kai yanks Adam up, a great big crash resounding in the room they just escaped. Kai’s momentum and Adam’s weight makes Kai step back once, then twice, then his footing goes and he sprawls onto his back, Adam on top of him, in one big undignified heap.

Adam looks down at him. He looks more sober, too, like he hasn’t had much to drink. Kai should really be pushing Adam off of him. Or trying to sit up. But his hands are on Adam’s waist, and Adam’s looking at Kai’s face like he can’t quite look at anything else, and Kai cannot, for the life of him, break this moment.

Adam’s hands are on either side of Kai’s face, boxing him in. His breath puffs against Kai’s mouth over and over as he breathes shallowly. His eyes flick all over Kai’s face, and Kai’s thinking kiss me, please so hard he’s pretty sure NASA catches the brainwaves.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice,” he says, voice soft and vulnerable, like Kai has the power to hurt him with whatever Kai says next.

Kai’s hands tighten on Adam’s waist. He’s thought about this a lot. Like, a stupid amount. Who doesn’t daydream about confessing to your crush? But Kai cannot dredge up any words to say. He’s dry, completely dry, and he can only think about how good Adam’s weight feels on him. He dips his eyes to Adam’s mouth and thinks This is where I kiss him, right? and Adam’s eyes slide shut as he leans in, towards Kai, and Kai loses his mind.

The backdoor opens, the sounds of the party spilling out into the night air, pink light washing over them. Adam scrambles off Kai so fast that he’s pretty sure he breaks the world record for speed, and stands up.

Kai props himself onto his elbows and squints at the silhouette in the doorway.

“Vanessa?”

“Oh my God, there you guys are!” she leans back into the house to yell, “Guys! I found Adam and Kai! They were fucking around in the backyard!”

“Hey!” Adam snaps indignantly. “You locked us in the basement! We had to escape!”

Vanessa rolls her eyes at them.

adam: hey uh

adam: sorry about what i said when i was drunk lol

adam: i didn’t mean it

Kai turns his phone off and stuffs it into his bag, frustrated. He hadn’t meant to not talk to Adam all weekend, he’d just needed to think things through, and then his dad had asked him to help paint the deck, and he’d had to finish up some code for robotics and time had kinda slipped away from him without really meaning to.

He hadn’t meant to ignore everyone else, either, but they weren’t in a Situation with Kai on Friday night, and he’s not in love with them, and they didn’t seem to mind so much.

Kai had spent all weekend staring at the texts, in between being too busy to answer them, but he can’t figure out what to say back. He’d gotten them Saturday morning after the party, probably because he hadn’t stuck around long enough to be left alone with Adam again.

Kai had left because.

Well, because.

Because he feels played.

Is that it? He can’t tell. He just feels so hollow about it. Adam doesn’t mean to, Kai knows that, but it still feels like he’s being led on. Adam has kissed him once while black out and almost kissed him while tipsy and flirts pretty outrageously, and it’s all too much for Kai’s head, which is designed for building robots and lying to his English teachers.

So at lunch, instead of going to Mr Tucker’s room, he lets Freddie from Calc drag him to the auditorium to help build the drama department’s Spring play set.

He’s not avoiding anyone. He’s just... helping his friends.

Fuck.

reeb: ok i give

reeb: wtf is going on

kai: ?

reeb: don’t “?” me mfer

reeb: adam is sulking n shit and u’ve been sorta MIA

kai: i’ve been busy, sorry

kai: i am the captain of a team u know. its not personal. i’ll hang out with you guys soon

reeb: spidey sense says there is something u are not telling me

kai: i really do think your spidey sense is actually overactive bladder syndrome

reeb: [An image of the caveman spongebob meme.]

He’s in the library, sitting in his favorite spot nestled in the bookshelves, brow furrowed over The Great Gatsby, his English journal, the notes Hannah lent him, and the Sparknotes page for the novel, surrounded by every color highlighter and pen, just trying to get his homework done, when Adam ambushes him.

“You’re avoiding me,” he says, out of nowhere.

Kai jumps, sending his highlighters and books flying. Adam is standing above him, eyebrows furrowed and his arms crossed. He looks a little bit light a superhero, all righteous indignation at injustice, his muscles buldging slightly. You’re dead. Goodbye. his brain supplies.

“Holy shit,” he says, gathering his stuff back up slowly. “You scared me.”

Adam’s eyes soften. “Sorry,” he murmurs.

Kai shrugs. “Don’t worry about it.”

The silence hangs there as Kai avoids his gaze, reshuffling Hannah’s notes back into their correct order. He’s lost his page in the book, so he opens it to the middle and starts looking for the correct page number. There’s no sound in this corner of the library except for Kai’s over-loud breathing and the turning of pages.

Go away go away go away, Kai prays, wanting the world to end so he won’t ever have to face this moment. He thinks about the echo of Adam’s voice in his memory, Kai, look at me, the feeling of Adam’s weight in his lap, the ache Kai feels when he looks at Adam, and wishes that he could just stand up and run.

Adam clears his throat. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he says again, only this time it comes out more like a question.

Kai keeps his face as blank as possible, schools it into something politely curious unlike the shattered glass mosaic he feels like. “Am I?”

Adam rubs his hand across the back of his neck. “Look, I’m sorry,” he says haltingly, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I shouldn’t have... come on to you like that. It was inappropriate, and we were both drunk. And I didn’t mean it.”

Kai looks at him for a long moment. He can feel it, a rock on his chest, crushing him. He feels the ball in his throat, the hot prickle against the backs of his eyelids. “I know,” he says eventually. His voice comes out steady, even though he feels like he’s falling apart.

“So... we’re cool?”

Kai forces himself to nod. “Okay.”

“Really? Because I still feel like I fucked up somewhere here.” Adam takes his hands out of his pockets to open them, palms up, like he’s pleading. “Tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.”

And it’s now or never. As much as Kai abhors the idea of talking about his feelings in the school library at 4 PM, as much as he wants to just lie through his teeth and stitch this all back up into one big internal bag of FUCK and pretend like nothing happened, he’d be leaving Adam hanging, and Kai’s not a dick.

He takes a deep breath. Then another one. He tries to channel his internal Reeve, but decides against it because Reeve’s kinda an asshole.

“I just... wish you did,” Kai says eventually. If he wasn’t himself, he’d slap him. Adam stares at Kai like he’d just spoken another language, like he’d just spat out part of a puzzle to piece together.

“Wish I did... what?” he asks slowly.

“Mean it,” Kai grits out, the words dragged from him. He feels ridiculous. This is stupid.

“Mean...?” Adam says, like he’s stupid. Kai scowls at him.

“Do you remember the St Eve’s party?”

Adam shrugs, looking helpless and confused.

“I drove you home that party. I drive you home every party. And every time we’re alone, you say that you like me, that you want me to go inside with you, that you think about me all the time,” Kai’s stomach is churning and Adam looks like he’s about to faint.

“I didn’t...”

Kai can’t hear him say it again. “And I know that you’re just drunk, and that’s just what you’re like when you’re drunk, but I just... I just wanted it to be true so bad. Part of me kept driving you home because I wanted you to be like that with me, part of me just wanted to pretend. But then you kissed me, and I just...” Kai makes a helpless gesture with his hands.

Adam licks his lips. He’s breathing a bit hard.

“...Fell apart,” Kai finishes.

Adam’s looking at him, wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights look, pure panic. Kai’s fucked it up, ruined their friendship, destroyed their friend-group, and will probably be unable to look anyone in the eye for a very long time.

Adam didn’t want to hear this. Kai should’ve just lied, shut it all up and let himself wither up inside. He should’ve avoided Adam harder, or refrained from falling in love with him in the first place. He should’ve just dated Jesse when she’d asked and made himself get over Adam.

“How long?”

Kai blinks. “Huh?”

“How long have you wanted...?” he shrugs.

Ah. The million dollar question.

“Officially? Middle of junior year. If I’m honest with myself? Probably since middle school.”

Adam’s mouth opens and closes nonsensically. Kai asks God to strike him down, just so this can end, just so Kai can go back to trying to figure out what the fuck is up with Gatsby and Jay, just so Adam will stop looking at him like that, like Kai’s killed his puppy.

Adam drops to his knees in front of Kai.

“Okay. Since freshman year. And I’m a liar. I did mean it. I kept thinking, you know, maybe you’d like me back, because I could see you looking, but I just couldn’t make myself say anything. And I meant it. I mean it. I do. I want to kiss you.”

Kai swallows. He’s feeling that dangerous thing again, like there are snakes in his chest, or his feelings are in a bucket that’s about to overflow.

“Okay,” he squeaks out.

Adam leans down and fits their mouths together. It’s chaste, and Kai’s lips are a little bit chapped, and he didn’t close his eyes, but when Adam pulls back Kai smiles so hard his mouth hurts.

And he leans up to kiss Adam, insistent, insistent, tasting Adam without Hennessy whiskey (and he does taste fantastic), and something electric happens to Kai’s spine when their tongues touch. He feels like he’s going to burn up, burst into stars, create a fissure in the earth that goes down to the core, or all three at once.

Adam licks along the roof of Kai’s mouth and yeah - that’s the one thing he’d like to never, ever, ever forget.

He’s about to be totally, totally, totally screwed.

Group: dandilyin hoes MFERsssss!! skeet DONT CHANGE CHAT NAME

mirakat: omfg

mirakat: k & a suckin face in library

mirakat: [A blurry creeper picture of Kai pressed against the bookshelves, Adam leaning over him. Their silhouettes are blacked out against the sunlight streaming in through the window, so they almost look like one body. It’s taken at an angle and half of a wooden shelf is in frame.]

speedyskeet: arent they in this GC too

lochnessa: Lmfaaooooooo

speedyskeet: they r gonna see this.....

reever: WTF ADAM’S INTO KAI???

reever: ?????

lochnessa: What planet do you live on

speedyskeet: fuckin jesus christ reeb

locknessa: Literally no one knew KAI was into Adam. EVERYONE KNEW ADAM WAS INTO KAI

reever: WHY AM I THE LAST ONE TO KNOW STUFF

mirakat: s2g i tld u this whn we were @ fortescue’s u nvr listen 2 me

“I hate them all,” Kai announces.

Adam looks up at him from where his head is pillowed on Kai’s thighs, Pride and Prejudice held aloft.

“Don’t worry, I set all their ringtones to Maroon 5.”

send me a ship + a prompt and i’ll write you a drabble!

#The Hollow #My writing #answer #kaidam

140 notes · View notes

bourbonboredom · 4 years

Text

A Reason To Believe Chapter 10

Being an undercover officer is a perilous job and Flip Zimmerman knows this far too well. He keeps his romantic life limited to one-night stands, never letting anyone get too close. That all starts to change when he meets a vivacious Jewish woman named Elle just as he’s about to take on a seriously dangerous undercover job; infiltrating the KKK. Elle and his undercover work make him question things he’d never thought to before and challenge him to see the world, and himself, in a whole new light.

A Flip x OC Fic

Word Count: 3,859

Warnings: slurs

And if they stare

Just let them burn their eyes on you moving

And if they shout

Don't let it change a thing that you're doing

Hold your head up, woman

Hold your head high

(x)

Spending his Friday night in a backwoods bar with a bunch of racists wasn't Flip’s idea of a good time. The jukebox played the same ten songs in rotation, the lighting probably should have been replaced a good five years ago, and the pool tables were missing cue balls. At least the beer was cold.

He had grown used to the atmosphere at the bar, and the patrons. The smell of cigarette smoke fell heavily over everything, leaving a slight haze in the room. The bar was more populated than usual. A ladies night had been introduced into the roster, filling the usually testosterone-laden room with high heels and skirts.

The girls were pretty enough. Some looked like office-workers, secretaries and nurses. Some were definitely underage, leaving the detective in him rolling. They looked like they were having a good time, whispering among one another before one would wait for a man to approach her. They'd giggle and bat their eyes at anyone who caught their gaze. It was all so normal. It was hard to remember every single one of them was sympathetic to the aryan movement that this bar was home to.

A girl kept trying to catch his eye from across the room. She looked a little younger than him, but older than the underage girls. She wore a simple skirt and blouse with sensible heels. A work outfit, meaning she must have come straight from the office to the bar. Her hair was a dark brown that flowed down her back in soft waves. Her features were distinctly sharp, with high cheekbones and a thin nose. She would stare at him from across the room as he spoke to Walter, occasionally whispering to her friends and giggling.

"She seems sweet on you over there," Walter pointed out, amusement filling his voice.

"So I've noticed," He responded, keeping his answer as neutral as possible.

"She's a pretty one, would make a fine wife," He continued.

"I'm sure she would,"

It wasn't the first time being flirted with while undercover. He'd managed to keep a pretty clean record with undercover cases. But he'd been undercover at a few strip clubs early in his career, weeding out seedy club owners that allowed girls to perform favors in back rooms. Or drug gangs that hired women for company. There was one case where his target's wife got sweet on him and he spent weeks on end trying to politely rejecting her advances.

But he also wasn't dating anyone during those cases. He'd either purposely stop seeing anyone during those periods, or the girl he was seeing would get sick of him never being around and would leave. He made sure Elle aware that things like this might come up, but it didn't make him feel any less strange about it all. She understood he'd have to sometimes be around a certain kind of woman, and she was okay with that as long as he kept his hands to himself. He had no problem with that last part, especially when this woman would openly hate him if she knew his true ancestry.

'Weird how that works' He thought to himself. This woman is attracted to him, but if this were a different bar a different day, and he had his necklace on, she would be repulsed by him.

Elle's words echoed in his head; They don't care who you are as a person if you’re Jewish.

"Ask her to dance, she looks like she could use a partner," Walter suggested, eyebrows cocking up his forehead.

"Maybe later," He was avoiding committing to anything.

"Later? What's the wait?" A new voice came.

A few of the members approached them as they stood by a pool table. They had clearly just gotten to the bar, the cool outdoor air still clinging to their jackets as they formed a semi circle.

"Ron here is taking his sweet time waiting to talk to that sweet thing over there," Walter informed the newcomers, nudging his head in the direction of the girl at the bar.

"Are you stupid? If you aren't snatching that up, I am," One of the men said incredulously.

"By all means, go for it," He offered, putting up a hand in surrender.

"What are ya queer or somethin'?" Felix sneered.

"I ain't no queer," He defended. God, what was this guy's obsession with him? Everyone else accepted him but Felix was constantly badgering him.

"You're passing up on some good genes there," Walter said nonchalantly. "A pure wife is gettin' harder to come by,"

"Yeah, and finding a girl here guarantees her bloodline. Ain't nothin' in his bar that doesn't have Aryan blood runnin' through their veins," Felix grinned, but it came off as unsettling when matched with his words.

"I've done just fine in the past," Flip tried his best to wave them off. "I just got out of a relationship, she was a handful. I'm not in a rush to do that again,"

"All these modern women and their attitudes," Ivanhoe roared, his beer starting to affect his speech. "It's all this women's lib bullshit,"

"What happened to the good old days? When women knew their place was in the home? Now you got all these girls looking to go to college and have careers. Don't they know they aren't built for that?" Another brother bemoaned

"Built for babies an nothin’ else," Walter agreed.

"Hey, now that's not fair," Flip chided. Everyone turned to look at him, eyes wide in surprise anyone would challenge them.

"They're built for cookin' too, I'm not here to make my own damn sandwiches," He laughed, making the room laugh with him.

He knew Elle would kill him if he ever told her he said that. He sent a silent apology into the universe.

"Sorry I'm late," Another voice came, followed by the front door slamming shut. "Got tied up at the hospital,"

"Hey John, how's your mom doin'? I heard she fell pretty hard," Walter greeted the man as he grabbed a bottle of beer and joined the circle.

"She's okay, would be a lot better if the damn nurses would listen to her," John grumbled.

"Damn shame, they just don't listen to patients no more," Ivanhoe grumbled back.

"And she has this one nurse, uppity bitch. She goes around wearing pants like she's a man. It's plain disrespectful if you ask me,"

The group vocalized their dislike. Flip wondered to himself if there were any other nurses who took to Elle's habit of ditching the dress. He hoped it was someone else they were talking about.

"Oh, and if you think that's bad this nurse walks around wearing one of those Jew necklaces. That's right, our good Christian hospitals are hiring kikes,”

A pit grew in his stomach. It had to be Elle. Her coworker, the one supposed to be at Rosh Hashanah, worked in the maternity ward. He kept quiet and listened to what else John had to say, silently gripping his beer.

"No! The next thing you know they'll be hiring dogs off the street! How is the good lord supposed to protect patients at a Christian hospital if they're hiring nurses of a different faith?" Walter asked.

"Maybe we could pay her a visit like that black panther girl. Scare her off a little," Felix suggested, making flips blood run cold.

"She'll drop out in her own time I bet, she'll get she ain't welcome here," He heard himself say.

"She doesn't even have an easy to pronounce name, my mother doesn't know what to even call her. Those Hebrews and their weird names. Why can't they be more like us?" Flip didn't bother to point out John's name had Hebrew origins, he knew he'd be wasting his breath. And it had to be Elle, she used her full name on her name tag.

"Give her a number, I'm sure she'd respond to that. They sure used to," Felix laughed, causing everyone else to follow. Flip grinned but he felt sick as he twisted his face into a smile.

"Can she ask for a more suitable nurse?" He tried to switch the conversation to being less disgusting.

"According to the hospital, she's one of their best. The head nurse said she was 'one of the best they'd ever had' and my mother was 'lucky to have her looking after her'. Shows what they know," John rolled his eyes.

A little sense of pride swelled in Flip. He knew Elle was good at her job, but he was sure she'd be happy to hear how her bosses praise her.

"It's a shame, she's pretty for a Jew. And the pants do fill out in all the right ways," John chuckled.

"You could always shut her up with your dick," Ivanhoe offered. "Give her an uncut taste,"

He wanted to break cover right then. That was his girlfriend. His gorgeous, smart, fiery girlfriend they were talking about. Not some object for them to comment on. He took a few breaths through his nose to calm himself. The investigation was more important. He had a wire strapped to his chest that was recording all of this. This was evidence. He couldn't give up now.

"Let me know if you're willing to share," He managed to say, clinking bottles with John.

"I heard that girl who works down at the grocery store on 22nd is coming here tonight, if you're looking for something less kosher," Walter teased the young man.

"Oh don't mind if I do," John leered.

The conversation turned after that, much to his relief. They went back to their usual bemoaning of society these days instead of the targeted talk about Elle. He supposed he shouldn't be too worried if they couldn't even pronounce her full name, but the thought of anything happening to her made him slow to finish his beer at the risk of losing it.

He was able to start his goodbyes not too long after, saying he was looking to turn in early because he had a long week at work. He shrugged his shearling jacket over his shoulders and waved off any last attempts to set him up with a fine Aryan woman as he walked out of the bar, leaving the faint sounds of the jukebox in the distance.

He calmly got in his car and locked the doors, checking no one was wandering around outside for a smoke break. He began talking lowly into the microphone on his chest so that Ron could hear him.

"I'll meet you by the gas station in ten, park away from the lights," He said as he turned on his engine and drove out of the parking lot on to the poorly lit road.

He tried not to think too much about what was said as he drove. He pushed it to the back of his mind. Fear wasn't helpful right now. He needed to keep himself safe. He needed to keep her safe. But right now he needed to get this equipment to Ron so he could go home to her.

He finally managed to get off the uneven dirt roads hidden in the trees and onto the solid asphalt of the main roads. He noticed a pair of headlights behind him in the distance. In the rear view mirror he could see Ron’s car following him at a distance until they both pulled into the back lot of the small gas station on the way back to the city.

He gently but quickly pulled the wire from his undershirt, letting the tape remain in his haste. He pulled the transmitter from the front pocket of his jeans and turned the power off, winding the chord around the plastic frame. He got out of his car and opened the door to Ron's passenger side before sitting down.

"Were they talking about Elle?" He asked without a greeting. "That nurse they described sounded awfully familiar,"

"I think so. They said some stuff that'd be good in court, keep this tape safe," He responded, staring to get out of the car.

"That's your girl they were talking about, doesn't that make you angry?" Ron sounded upset at his perceived cavalier nature.

"You're right it is my girl. It makes me fuckin’ furious but I can’t blow my cover because of that. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna make sure she's safe," He said curtly, slamming the door behind him.

He was out of the parking lot before Ron could even turn his lights back on. The drive from this bar back into the city was about fifteen minutes, with another couple to reach Elle's place. He was still cautious, driving roundabout routes and watching the cars around him to make sure he wasn't being followed. He couldn't throw caution to the wind just because he was angry.

His mind raced as he took the back streets to her apartment building. He had to make sure she was safe, that she was doing things to keep herself safe. A part of him still hoped they were talking about another Jewish nurse who wore pants and didn't take shit from patients. Unlikely, but it helped calm him down.

He swung into a spot outside her building, almost forgetting to turn his car off as he ran inside. He hurried up the stairs, not caring if his steps were too loud, and knocked on her door in a way one might mistake as pounding.

She swung the door open with a confused look on her face.

"Hey, I didn't expect to see you tonight," She greeted him.

"I just got off shift, wanted to come see you," He said, trying to stifle his heaving breathing from rushing.

"You look pale, is everything okay?" She asked, putting her wrist to his forehead.

"Yeah, I'm fine, come here," He mumbled, pulling her into a hug.

She squeaked in surprise as he swept her up in his arms, his body overtaking hers as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

"You're gorgeous, you know that right? And the smartest person I know. You're perfect and anyone that says different is fucking blind," His voice was hoarse as his hands ran through her curls.

"Uh, thanks Flip. That's kind of out of nowhere, are you sure everything's okay?" She pushed him away gently before bringing her hands up to his jawline to get a better look at him.

"You know I can't really talk about work stuff, right? We talked about that," He says softly.

"Yeah, and that's okay," She matched his tone, running her thumb along his cheek in a soothing motion. "I get that it's gonna be that way,"

"But...something happened and it's making me concerned about you at work," He continued, looping his hands around her waist to pull her closer.

"Okay," She rested her head in his chest and waited for him to elaborate.

"Elle," He called softly. She looked up at him with her big brown eyes, full of empathy.

"I don't think you should be wearing your necklace at work," He said cautiously, watching for her response. "It's for your safety, I wouldn't be asking you otherwise,"

Her eyebrows knitted together, her nose scrunched the tiniest bit, narrowing her gaze as she looked up at him.

"No," Was all that came from her mouth.

“Elle—” He started, trying to find a way to tell her why this was important.

"I can't take this off, I've been wearing this since I was thirteen, it's important to me,"

"I understand that, and I said I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important," He tried to keep an even tone as her grew louder.

"Flip, I'm keeping it on," Her words were final, and she trekked out of the living room into her bedroom.

He stood there for a minute before following her. She was folding her clothes that had just been washed at the laundromat down the street. She was silent, but the way she snapped the folds and wrinkles from her clothes indicated she was angry.

He leaned against the doorway watching her. She clearly knew he was there but chose to ignore him, putting a freshly folded pile into a drawer.

"Elle, we have to talk about this,"

No response.

"Eliana, come on. You know this is serious, I've never asked you anything like this before,"

Another angry snap as she folded a pair of blue jeans.

"Elle, please. You're still Jewish if you take it off for a few hours a day, no one can take that from you—”

"You just don't get it, do you?" She whipped around, rage bubbling just below the surface.

"Obviously not," He shot back. "But I'm trying, so please explain to my why you can't take it off for work?"

“"t's a family heirloom, its non-negotiable,”

"What does that even have to—”

"It's a family heirloom Phillip! This was my grandmother’s. She didn’t make it to America like my parents. She stayed behind and was taken to the camps with the rest of my family. She hid it when everything else was taken from her! She sewed it into the lining of the clothes given to her. When she died at the camp from starvation my uncle had to sneak it into his possession before the guards could bury her with it. It would have been lost for forever in a mass grave otherwise. She wanted him to keep it safe, keep it in the family at all costs and out of the hands of the guards who'd melt it down for their own needs. He brought it to America after he was liberated and it was given to me after my bat mitzvah,"

The story rushed out of her mouth, her voice cracking and her hands curled into fists as if to anchor her to the moment.

"I was named after my grandmother. What would it mean if I took it off, Flip? She risked her life to keep this necklace, to keep her culture and her faith alive, I'm not taking it off," She covered it with her hand, as if to shield it from his view.

He was speechless. She'd mentioned it was a family heirloom, but it never occurred to him where it came from, or what it might have gone through.

The delicate star she wore around her neck was embedded with the history, the struggles, of her family. It had belonged to the person she was named for. Someone who died while keeping it safe. How many other family heirlooms were taken from people in those camps? Melted down or thrown away, as if they had no significance. An entire culture nearly wiped out and thirty years later still trying to recover and rebuild.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," He apologized sincerely.

"It's not really a conversation I like bringing up," She said stiffly, her eyes tinged red as if she was holding back tears. "If you can't understand what this means to me…I don't know what to tell you. I've been wearing this for sixteen years, I can't just take it off,"

"I understand that now, it's just—” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Let's just say racists need medical attention too, and someone might've taken notice of you while you were working,"

She was quiet, chewing on her bottom lip as she thought through the patients she'd seen recently.

"And you can't tell me who, right?" She finally asked.

"I can't, I don't want you to accidentally act different around them. Do something that could alert them of what's going on,"

"But if I took my necklace off, wouldn't they still know I'm Jewish? Now that they've seen me?" She questioned.

"Maybe. Gotta be honest, some of these people aren't really Fullbright scholars. They think you 'look Jewish' but I don't think they'd be able to tell if you didn't have the necklace or your full name on your name tag,"

"What wrong with my name?" She asked indignantly.

"Nothing, it's beautiful," He rushed to her defense. "But they thought it was hard to pronounce when they saw your name tag,"

She scowled at the thought, eyes rolling before looking at him again.

"No one even uses my full name at work except for the head nurse. They all call me Elle,"

"I know. The guy who was saying all of this had a Hebrew name. Go figure,"

"Well they haven't figured you out yet, so I guess it's okay. They missed this schnoz somehow," she reached on her tip toes so she could touch her nose to his.

"Hey," He fake-protested. "You know you like it,"

"I do," She agreed, smiling for the first time that night.

She leaned up to kiss him, a peace offering he accepted openly.

"I am still Jewish even if I take it off," She conceded. "But this is important to me. It's my culture and my faith, not just some charm. It helps me feel closer to my family, especially when I'm thousands of miles from home,"

“I understand that now, I won't ask again,"

"And I'm safe at my job," She assured him. "I have a great staff, and they'll make sure nothing happens to me. And I'll start walking home with someone if it makes you feel better,"

"It would," He admitted. "Would you be okay if I let some of the guys at the station know about this? Just in case I can't be there?"

"You are not getting me special treatment," She said firmly. "The last thing I need is to be escorted around town by a bunch of cops,"

"Self defense training then. I can teach you some basics, stuff that can get you out in a pinch,"

"I have a little bit of training but I could probably need the practice,"

"How about on Sunday? You have that day off right? I'll take you to the station and you can throw me around,"

"Perfect," She grinned. "Can I put you in cuffs?"

"Can I put you in cuffs?" He asked back.

"Only if you're wearing that shoulder holster," She pointed her finger at him.

"Oh you liked that huh? Should I read you your Miranda Rights too?” He came up behind her, grabbing her by the waist and nuzzling her neck.

“You have the right to remain silent,” He used a gruff voice, letting his beard tickle her skin.

“You’re ridiculous,” She laughed.

“Anything you say can and will be held against you,” He accentuated the statement by grinding against her.

“Excuse me detective, this seems highly inappropriate,”

“You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you,”

“That’s not even sexy,”

He swept an arm under her leg, picking her up bridal style.

“Do you understand the rights I have just ready to you?”

“I believe so Detective Zimmerman. Now take me to bed you meshugah man,”

“I don’t know that one, but I’m gonna say its a compliment,” He said as he walked toward the bedroom.

“I’ll let you find out,”

----------------

NOTES

As I’m sure most people know at this point, many valuables and heirlooms were stolen during WWII by the Third Reich. Many families lost everything, some clung to smaller items in any way they could. There are literally hundreds of articles and sources about this looting, and if you’re in the mood to read something depressing, its a whole rabbit hole to go down!

Some history on the Miranda Rights

Taglist: @ladygrey03 @tinydancer40

#ARTB #ARTBmasterlist #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip x reader #flip zimmerman x oc

16 notes · View notes

retro-scorpio · 4 years

Text

Sexual Tension

I don’t know what else to call this little one shot, so you’re unfortunately stuck with this.

I wrote this short story a little while ago, and it’s basically a college AU featuring Julian Devorak from The Arcana with special appearances from Julian’s sister Portia, Nadia Satrinava, Count Lucio, and Asra Alnazar. I may end up adding to this later, but as of right now this is the finished product.

So, if you’re into fanfiction about characters from The Arcana, then enjoy this story.

Julian has the rather stereotypical reputation of being a loner, so much so that it’s impossible to track him down outside of classes. Even then, he’s an elusive presence in the room, always choosing to sit in the back and keep to himself, his notes, and his cup of black coffee. Rumors spread about him as a result of his mysterious nature, but he doesn’t seem to know about them or care. At least, that’s what I’ve been told. I don’t know how true any of it is, because ever since I stepped foot in this university, I’m seeing him just about everywhere I go.

I first got a glimpse of Julian when I bumped into his shoulder as I was trying to find one of my classes. We both apologized, and he directed me to where I needed to go. Later on that same day, I discovered that we were both in the same English class about texts from the Victorian era, and so I opted to sit next to him. He’s always in the campus library the same time I am, hunched over books and scribbling things down in his notebook, and there was even one time where I caught him prancing around outside in the early morning light as if he was part of an imaginary sword fight.

So, I shouldn’t be that surprised to see him at auditions for our school’s fall production of Sweeny Todd, but at the same time it has me wondering just how many more times our paths are going to cross. Perhaps he likes the story as much as I do and wanted to see how our school would adopt it.

“Hello!” a skinny, petite, pale, brunette lady exclaims excitedly at me, startling me and making me flinch slightly. “I haven’t seen your face before. I’m Lizzy.” She extends her hand out to me, and I shake it. Before I can even tell her my name, though, she asks bluntly,

“You don’t know what role you want, do you?”

“Pardon?” Lizzy sheepishly smiles.

“Sorry; I should have warned you in advance that I’m really good at reading people. Being involved in theatre does that to you over time.”

“It’s okay,” I respond. “Especially because you’re right; I’m not even sure if I’ll get a part at all. I just really enjoy the story and thought I’d give this a shot.”

“Have you ever acted before?”

“A couple times, yeah. When I was younger. I’ve always liked the idea of acting, but I’ve not had much time to devote to it.

“Well, here’s your chance to tip your toes back in the water! I think I have the perfect role for you.”

“You do?” I ask. Lizzy enthusiastically nods her head.

“You see that giant group of people over there?” She points out a crowd huddled on the other side of the auditorium, appearing to be watching Julian’s every move and swooning over him.

“They’re all wanting to play the role of Sweeny Todd’s assistant.”

“Let me guess: Julian’s playing Sweeny Todd.”

“Unofficially, yes,” Lizzy answers in a hushed tone. “He certainly has all of the traits of the character. The assistant is the most sought after role because in this iteration, they’re Sweeny Todd’s love interest and eventual partner in crime.”

“I thought Mrs. Lovett fulfilled that role.”

“In the classic, yes. This version is a sequel of sorts that answers the question, ‘what if Sweeny Todd didn’t die and instead managed to escape?’ So, he ends up traveling to and settling down in New York, where he picks up an assistant who helps him around his shop. He leads a normal life for five years until his daughter Johanna finds him and confronts him about what he did in London. The assistant happens to overhear their conversation and talks to Sweeny about it later that evening, and he or she—depends on who ends up getting the role—convinces Sweeny to pick up where he left off because there are a lot of corruption and starvation in New York.” Interesting. So, some artistic license has been taken with the story, which could either go really well or quite terribly.

“So, why do you think I would make a good assistant?”

“Because you’re the only person Julian’s noticed walk in here.” Before I can ask for Lizzy to clarify, a booming voice cuts through the chatter, and I’m forced to rush to the large group of people vying to play the assistant.

“Ladies and gentleman,” the voice rings out. It belongs to a tall, blonde man on the stage. “My name is Lucio, and I’m co-directing this play with the help of my dear friend Lizzy. Now, I’ve been told that there’s a long list of people wanting the role of Sweeny Todd’s assistant, so we’ll get that out of the way first. Will everyone fitting that description please step to the front of the auditorium and line up horizontally so that I can take a good look at each of you?” It becomes clear quickly that Lucio is pulling out the weeds before anyone even says a line, for he goes down the line and says no to the people he deems unfit for the role. A lot of it seems based on physical looks as he utter phrases like ‘too short’, ‘too fat’, and even ‘too ugly’ to a couple of individuals. By the time he gets to me, I’m finding it hard to swallow, but I try my best to not let Lucio know that I’m nervous. Instead, I look straight at him as he glances over every inch of me.

“Spunky,” he murmurs. I’m not wearing anything grand, so I wonder what brought on that comment. “I like it.” He moves on to the next person, and I hesitantly remain where I’m standing. Even though he gave me a compliment, Lucio didn’t explicitly tell me to stay like he did with the others still in line.

“Alright,” he states once he’s assessed everyone, clasping his hands in front of his chest. “So, for those no longer standing up here, you can either talk to Lizzy and audition for a different role or you can leave for the evening. The choice is yours. As for the rest of you, you’ll be ad-libbing your way through a pivotal scene in the play shortly. Julian, if you would hop on stage please.” Looking back at the seats, I see Julian sprawled out, as if he was right at home. He leisurely untangles himself and makes his way on stage.

“Bring out one of the folding chairs from backstage,” Lucio nearly barks at Julian. As Julian fulfills the request, Lucio tells us that we’ll be acting out the scene in which Sweeny Todd admits his crimes to his assistant.

“Julian will deliver the first line, thus setting the scene, but the direction it goes is entirely up to you. When I have seen enough, or if things are stalling, I will call scene. Remember, only one of you will get the role, so make a good impression. Julian!”

“Ready when you are!” Julian calls back. His voice is surprisingly smooth. The few times we’ve talked, he’s sounded a bit groggy, as though he needed more sleep. Combined with his tall stature, bright eyes, and muscular physique, it makes him quite the dream boat. I can see why so many people want to play his love interest.

“Excellent! You there. Pinky.” Lucio points at a girl with hot pink hair. “You’re up first.” Thank goodness. I did not want to go first. Lucio directs us to sit down in the second and third rows as he plants himself closer to the middle of the auditorium.

I must say, Julian is very good at improving. Not only does he know his character, but he’s also giving his partner opportunities to showcase their talents. Whether they take him up on his offer is another story. Some of them want to steal the scene, and others are using it as a means to flirt with Julian. Meanwhile, Lucio’s patience is slowly growing shorter as no one seems to be exactly who he’s looking for. He’s given everyone nicknames, some of them unflattering as time wears on. Fortunately for me, he calls me Spunky.

When I sit down on the chair on stage, I close my eyes and take a deep breath, envisioning the scene I’m about to play in my head. If this is a pivotal part in the play, then it needs to be full of suspense and drama. Just like that, a plan’s in place.

“Ready?” Julian whispers as I open my eyes back up. I nod my head, and he utters the opening lines.

“Elise, what you heard my daughter say is true. I am—well, was—the Demon Barber of Fleet Street. I murdered countless people. Judges, doctors, lawyers, even my own wife. I ran away from London because I didn’t want to get caught, but the truth is all of those people either deserved to die or were wishing for death to be bestowed upon them. I was simply doing the world a favor.”

“I don’t believe you,” I reply. There’s a fleeting moment where Julian’s caught off guard, but he quickly recovers.

“Oh, really? And why’s that, dear?”

“How am I supposed to believe that the same man who constantly stubs his toe on furniture and smiles at everyone that he meets is capable of ruthless, calculated, cold-hearted murder? For God’s sake, you can’t even walk into a room without making some sort of mess! You’re always relying on me to keep the shop tidy, and I feel like someone who was into killing people would be able to neaten things up themselves.” Julian sticks his hand in his pocket and pulls out a pencil.

“So, you don’t believe I have it in me to be a murderer.”

“No, I don’t.” The next thing I know, Julian’s leaning over me, his face inches away from mine and his pencil hovering over my nose.

“Let me tell you something, darling; this tool has helped me make my way up the social chain. No matter how rich a man is, there comes a day where he needs a shave, and I’m the best there is.” He moves the pencil down and presses it against my throat while maintaining eye contact.

“There’s a certain amount of pressure that you need to apply in order to get a smooth, clean shave. If you don’t put enough pressure, you end up missing a few spots. Put too much, and well, you end up cutting him. Draw the knife across the neck fast enough, and you have a dead man suffering from major blood loss.” He presses the pencil harder against my throat to emphasize his point, making it slightly difficult for me to breathe.

“Shall I show you what I mean, Elise, or have I made myself clear?”

“I believe you,” I gasp. He immediately releases pressure and takes a couple steps back, smirking at me.

“Good. Now, if that’s all you wanted to discuss, then I suggest you head up to bed for the evening. We have a long day tomorrow.” He starts walking away from me, but Lucio hasn’t yelled for the scene to end, so I assume that I have to keep going.

“Why America?” Julian stops in his tracks and turns to face me.

“Pardon?”

“Why did you flee to America of all places? You could have easily traveled to France or Italy, but instead you chose New York.” Julian sighs.

“Like I said, I didn’t want to get caught. I wanted to start a new life, and word travels quicker from England to other countries in Europe than it does from England to America. The two countries are separated by an ocean, after all.”

“Have you ever thought about doing it again?”

“Doing what again?”

“Using your profession as a means of…extermination.”

“Elise, I was in a really dark place when I executed that plan in London. I’m not the same person I was five years ago, and if I were to do it again, I’d be signing my own death sentence.” I get up from the chair and slowly walk up to Julian, worried that my next actions are going to make Lucio end the scene.

“My father was killed by a drunk police officer who mistook him for another man, and my mom was raped and beaten by the judge overlooking the case.” I gently place my fingers around his chin and stand on the tips of my toes, bringing my face closer to his.

“The rich and powerful are just as evil and corrupt in New York as they are in London, Mr. Todd. They get to do whatever they want with impunity, even if it costs the lives of innocent, hardworking people. Someone has to make them pay for their crimes, or their offspring will continue being monsters among the human race. Is that something you’re willing to live with?” Julian looks like he’s beginning to run a fever at this point with his flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. I plant my feet back on the ground and walk around him, heading towards an imaginary door.

“Good night, Mr. Todd.”

“Scene.” Even though Lucio’s voice is the softest it’s been during this entire process, the auditorium is silent enough for it to carry.

“Well, Spunky, I knew there was a reason I liked you. Congratulations, you have the role. Asra, you’ll be Spunky’s understudy, because you’re the only one that has as much chemistry with Julian. Everyone else who was auditioning for the assistant, you can either stick around and try for another role or leave; it doesn’t matter that much to me.”

I end up staying through until the end of auditions, mainly because I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to leave or not. Turns out, once all the roles were filled to Lucio’s satisfaction, he gave everyone a copy of the rehearsal times, so it’s a good thing that I stuck around after all. Plus, I got to watch Julian perform on stage. I must say, the way he carries himself when he’s acting is quite entertaining, to say the least.

Speaking of Julian, he practically runs up to me as I’m leaving the auditorium.

“Well, hi, Julian,” I greet him, surprised that he sought me out. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” he replies quickly, his words rushing together into a jumbled mess. “I was just wondering if you would maybe like to walk with me? Since we’ll be working closely together, I would like to get to know you a little, but it’s totally fine if you just want to be alone.”

“I wouldn’t mind a little bit of company.” Julian smiles enthusiatically, and it makes my heart race.

“Great!” The two of us walk outside and start meandering around.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten your name,” Julian tells me. “Isn’t that weird? We keep seeing each other around campus, and we even share a class together, but I don’t know what to call you.” Is Julian normally this nervous? He’s certainly a fast talker, and he’s rambling a bit.

“My name’s Carina.” He stops in his tracks and gawks at me.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah…” What about my name is making Julian awestruck? He doesn’t hate the name, does he?

“Carina was the name of a pet rabbit I had when I was younger. I’ve always liked how sophisticated and beautiful it sounded, and I thought that if I was to have a little girl, she would be called Carina.” He takes a momentary pause and shakes his head before adding,

“Then again, naming a child after a childhood pet isn’t exactly normal.” He continues walking, and I kind of have to jog to catch up to him.

“So, Julian, how long have you been acting? You looked like a professional on stage.” The compliment makes him flush.

“I’ve been acting since I was about five,” he answers softly, avoiding my gaze. “It started with children’s theater and stuff like that, but when I was ten, I attended my first summer drama camp, and my love for acting has grown ever since. Lucio ran the camp, you know. Has for many years.” I had no idea Lucio and Julian had that much history together.

“Do you like working with Lucio?”

“He’s very passionate about his work, which makes him a very intense person to be around. If things don’t go his way, he’s prone to throwing fits and screaming at people. Despite of that, he does manage to put together spectacular shows and treats everyone to a nice party in the end, so I would say working with Lucio is similar to a roller coaster. It’s both scary and exciting at times.”

“I see.” Julian finds a bench and beckons for me to sit down with him. Once we’re seated, he asks,

“What made you decide to try out for this play? Was it in order to get closer to me?” Before I can answer, he quickly backtracks.

“I don’t mean that in an arrogant way. God knows I’m way too insecure to think that way. It’s just that ever since Lucio accidentally let it slip that I would be the male lead in this play, I’ve heard people whispering about me all over campus, revealing to their friends what they would do to me if they got to play the assistant. To be honest, all of the attention makes me sick. I mean, I enjoy being in the spotlight when it comes to acting, but when I’m not on stage, I…”

“You just want to be left alone, don’t you?” Julian clasps my hand and nods his head.

“Well, Julian, if it makes you feel any better, I auditioned because I really enjoy the story of Sweeny Todd and wanted to see if I had what it took to get a role. That’s it. No nefarious intentions involved.” He visibly relaxes.

“Thank you, Carina,” he sighs contently. “You have no idea how much that means to me.” He brings my hand up to his lips and kisses it softly, making me look away and blush. This play is going to be interesting, to say the least.

I wish there was a way to describe how today’s rehearsals went without being vulgar, but when you’re forced to repeatedly act out a scene where you’re passionately arguing with someone that you feel unresolved sexual tension towards and from, the most mild way to go about it would be to state that it was like two animals in heat. I’m honestly surprised that Julian and I managed to get through rehearsal without tearing each other’s clothes off on stage in front of everyone in the auditorium to see.

You see, this scene involves Elise, the assistant, yelling her grievances at Sweeny Todd, which revolve around money and sex, and Sweeny shouting that those problems wouldn’t exist if she didn’t essentially tell him to become a criminal again. This of course makes Elise more angry at Sweeny, and the scene ends with her storming out of his room and slamming the door behind her. Lucio calls this scene “the beginning of the end”, because after this point in the play, their relationship quickly becomes toxic to the point where they want to kill each other.

Speaking of Lucio, he’s been a key player in creating the tension between Julian and me, because he continuously forces us to approach the edge of no return, but he never allows us to go over it, not even outside rehearsal. Julian’s trying his best to be a gentleman and abide by Lucio’s rules, but I can tell that he’s getting worn out by constantly pushing down anything he may feel towards me and only allowing those emotions to come out when we’re on stage.

I suppose that’s why Asra pulls me aside as soon as Lucio dismisses us for the evening.

“Carina, there’s something you need to know about Julian,” he tells me softly but firmly.

“Go on…” Asra sighs.

“He’s a bit of a pressure cooker. He shoves any feelings he deems undesirable down until he can’t contain them anymore, and then they explode out of him with no way for him to control them until they’re completely out of his system. And it’s not just feelings like anger or sadness; he can get quite horny as well.” Before I can even reply to anything Asra has said, he quickly adds,

“I’ve seen the way you two have interacted during practice, and I don’t want to see you hurt. Sure, he’ll light up your world, but only for as long as he has to act with you. The moment the curtain drops on the final performance, he’ll throw you away like the burnt match you’ve become while spending time with him.” So many questions zoom through my brain, but right as I pick one to ask Asra, Julian walks to us and practically drags me away from him with a fake smile plastered on his face.

“Did something happen between you and Asra?” I ask Julian as we walk outside the auditorium.

“It’s a long story,” Julian mutters scornfully.

“I don’t have anywhere I have to be, so spill.” Julian stops and turns to face me, grabbing my hand as he does so.

“Carina, there are just some things that are best left in the past. Let’s just say that Asra and I aren’t the best of friends.”

“Why?”

“Why do you care so much?” Julian’s voice gets a bit nastier and louder, making me feel defensive.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I nearly shout sarcastically. “It’s not like anyone would get curious if someone told them that a friend of theirs treats people like they were pieces of trash to be disposed of at the first opportunity.” Julian’s eyes briefly widen in shock before decisively narrowing in anger.

“Maybe some people are trash. You try your best to hold on to them because they mean a lot to you, but in the end you have to cut ties before they hurt you.”

“What in the hell are you talking about, Julian?”

“I’m talking about Asra!” We’re both yelling at this point. “He’s always painting himself as the victim, and he never acknowledges any of his wrongdoings!”

“What?!” Julian lets go of my hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in order to calm himself down.

“Look, if you want to know the truth, you’re not going to get it from either Asra or me, because we both were self-centered at the time.”

“Then who does know the truth?”

“Why don’t I have you meet her?”

As it turns out, the girl in question happens to be in an apartment Julian lives in. Initially, I thought she was the short, plump, red-headed individual who greeted us when we stepped inside, but then she quickly dragged Julian away, talking excitedly about finally having a subject for the painting she was working on. Before I know it, a door slams, and I’m left alone.

“Why don’t you make yourself comfortable?” a smooth, female Indian voice tells me, making me jump out of my skin. When I recover from my shock, I find myself face-to-face with a regal-looking woman. She’s just wearing a t-shirt and jeans, but her face looks very queenly. I follow her request and sit down in one of the chairs in the kitchen, which is the first room you’re in when you walk inside the apartment.

“You must be Carina,” the woman states, pouring hot water into two mugs and putting in tea bags. “Julian’s told me a lot about you, so I figured it was only a matter of time before he brought you over. I’m Nadia.” She walks over to the table and sits in the chair next to me, handing me a mug as she does so.

“How do you know Julian?” I nervously ask. There’s something about her that tells me that I’d do well to not piss her off.

“In simple terms, I’m a friend of his who’s mentoring his sister. She was the one that you saw first.” I take a sip of tea.

“What about in complex terms?” Nadia smirks at me.

“You’re clever. Julian could stand to be around someone like you.”

“Thank you,” I reply shyly.

“I’m Julian’s…unofficial therapist, you might say. Then again, I’m kind of everyone’s unofficial therapist, except for Portia. Julian’s sister,” she quickly adds upon seeing the confused look in my eyes. “Anyway, I deal with secrets. Secrets that can either bring people together or make them despise each other.”

“How do you do that?”

“Why, I talk to people. I listen to them, note anything interesting, and pass it along to whoever’s interested in it, for a small fee. Speaking of which, I’m sure there’s something you’d like to ask me. I have a feeling Julian didn’t bring you over here just to meet his sister and her teacher.” I take a deep breath to calm my nerves.

“I don’t know if you would be able to answer this, but something happened earlier this evening that raised some questions for me.” I quickly recount what Asra and Julian had told me after practice, and Nadia nods her head as I talk.

“To be honest, I’m not surprised,” Nadia responds. “Asra’s quite petty, and Julian can be melodramatic sometimes. They’ve both come to me complaining about the other, and I’ve seen their interactions with each other over the years, so I have a lot of information about the nature of their relationship. I just need one thing from you.”

“I understand.” Nadia smiles, making her look that much more like royalty.

“Good. So, tell me: how do you feel about Julian?” I nearly choke on my tea, and I feel my face start to burn up in embarrassment and something else, something more animalistic.

“I see,” Nadia replies to my nonverbal response. “You’re both pulled so taut that you’re about to snap.”

“That obvious, huh?”

“Only because you both blush at the mere mention of the other. How hard has Lucio been pushing you?”

“We’re not allowed to be intimate off stage. We can be friendly, but that’s it.” Nadia sighs.

“Classic Lucio. Gets completely blindsided by Asra and then takes it out on you.”

“What do you mean?” Nadia proceeds to launch into the story of Julian and Asra. Apparently, they started off as rivals because Asra was jealous of Julian becoming Lucio’s favorite without even trying when he had to work tirelessly for two years prior just to get Lucio’s approval. The rivalry was one-sided, though, because Julian was blissfully unaware that Asra felt any ill will towards him.

When Julian was a sophomore in high school and Asra a senior, they ended up being the lead characters of one of Lucio’s original plays. Julian had shot up over the summer and was eight inches taller than Asra, which led to Asra developing feelings for Julian. This, of course, presented some internal conflict for Asra up until Julian had expressed interest back. From there, their relationship burned bright and fast.

Things between them started going downhill quickly when Asra would manipulate Julian into doing sexual things that Julian most likely wouldn’t have done on his own and Julian would either get super clingy or super distant. Nadia had tried to get them to work things out, but as soon as the final show ended, Julian broke up with Asra and ghosted him as much as he possibly could.

“So, why exactly would Asra care about my wellbeing if he really doesn’t care for Julian?” I ask Nadia once she’s done with her tale.

“Well, once Asra and Julian broke things off, Julian developed the habit of getting romantically close to his costar only to drop them once the production was over. Since you’re pretty new to the acting world, Asra wouldn’t want your experience to be soured by anything Julian does. At least, that’s what he’s told me.”

“But?” Nadia smirks knowingly.

“You’re the first person since Asra that’s made Julian…I don’t want to say lovestruck, because that sounds overdramatic, but maybe pleasantly nervous.”

“Really?” She nods her head.

“If you stay over here long enough this evening, Julian’s bound to show you what I’m talking about.”

Julian’s managed to contain himself, all things considered. His sister Portia kept teasing him about me, Nadia awarded her with smirks, smiles, and some extra dessert, and it seemed like every other commercial on TV was based on a cheesy romantic comedy.

But then Nadia leaves for the evening and Portia goes off to bed and Julian starts channel surfing only to stumble upon a show that featured a girl moaning loudly as a guy’s using his dick like a jackhammer to drill an additional hole into her.

That’s when I can tell that some frayed strings in Julian are snapping. His face becomes flushed, his eyes dilate with a mixture of shock, horror, and arousal, and his mouth’s agape at the scene unfolding in front of him. I myself am having a difficult time keeping my composure, but I’m able to remain sane long enough to gently take the remote from Julian’s hand and shut the TV off. In a blink of an eye, my hand replaces the remote as Julian turns his body so that he’s facing me.

“C-Carina,” he stammers. “I…I’ve been trying so hard, and I—” As quickly as he grabbed my hand, I place my index finger on his lips and lean close to him. Somehow, his face becomes even redder.

“Julian, what do you want to do to me?”

“I don’t know if I should—” I cut his sentence abruptly by clamping my hand over his mouth.

“Just nod or shake your head, okay?” Julian nods his head, his gray eyes sparkling in the living room light.

“Do you want to kiss me?” Nod.

“Do you want to make out with me?” Nod.

“Do you want to run your hands all over my body?” Nod.

“Do you want to leave bites all over me?” A more hesitant nod.

“Do you want to do to me what the man on the screen did to that girl?” A very slow, almost ashamed nod, but a nod nevertheless.

“I want you to listen to me, Julian, because I’m only saying this once. When I remove my hand from your mouth, I want you to do me on this couch. You can go as rough or soft as you want, but I don’t want you to stop until you’ve orgasmed. I don’t care what Lucio’s going to say when he sees us at our next rehearsal; his decisions have pulled you so taut that you’re snapping right in front of me as we speak. Do you understand?” After a moment of serious contemplation, a quite shy nod.

“I’m going to count to three, and then I’m leaving you to do whatever you want.” Nod.

“One.” Julian swallows.

“Two.” Something inside me quivers in anticipation.

“Three.” Time gets jumbled for about five seconds, and when it straightens itself back out, Julian and I are at the other end of the couch; he’s moved on top of me and is frantically kissing every part of me that he can touch. I can’t really keep up with him, not that I’m complaining.

#thearcana #juliandevorak #portiadevorak #asraalnazar #nadiastratinava #countlucio #collegeau

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sumeshi-t · 4 years

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✨ self-ship tag game ✨

PART 2 | IwaLee (here you go, discord)

sorry if it's corny/cheesy LMAO my brain empty i can't think of anything to make for iwa's birthday i'm such a dumbass. was also supposed to draw an nsfw-ish thing for this but ya girl is feelin’ out of it lately sjhfalhj

How we met:

okay let’s just say i’m smart enough to land myself a scholarship in socal since i’m taking physical therapy anyway

i feel like... we would meet in the library LMAO what asian nerds

maybe i’d end up bothering him with the way i’m murmuring anatomy stuff and talking to myself when studying

so he overhears me struggling to remember that one word and he’s gonna fucking answer for me like okay sorry bud i’m stupid

jk i won’t react like that i’d just be like, “yes!” and turn to look at whoever it was who answered and say thank you because i’m so immersed in my own bubble of “knowledge” and big brain

when i notice that he’s actually cute i’d be fucking red in the ears out of embarrassment when he tells me to tone my voice down lmao so i apologize for being a bother :(

actually says, “don’t mind” damnit his english do be cute. just two asian kids far from home with accents

it’s awkward, but i’d steal glances at what he’s studying. would probably get caught after a looong while, but it’s bc i’ll be blanking off, brain tired

“do you have anything you want to ask?” he’ll be dropping his pen over his notes leaning back and stretching, bending his neck, rolling his shoulders while waiting for my answer

“omg i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to stare.” then i ask what his program is just bc he could be in one of my classes and i didnt know

anyway, turns out our schedules were pretty similar, we live in the same area/dorm, so like there’s always a chance for us to meet somehow

we wouldn’t give numbers to eo on that same day; like give it about two weeks of constantly bumping into eo before that happens

watch me share my highlighters with him, exchanging notes, passing some snacks beneath the table like its weed or sumn

from lib meetings to getting lunch together to being invited to watch his games (in freshman year i’d still go because i’d be less busier)

i would definitely use the honorifics on him, from “iwaizumi-san” gradually to “iwa-kun”; he won't admit that he likes it because it's a little piece of home

would convince to practice palpation with him because his body is a perfect example–

"wh-why don't you ask someone from your class?"

"i'm not that close with—are you blushing? omg you are!"

somehow i joke around, "i won't touch your dick," then i'd laugh at his reaction.

anyway, in return for using his body as a model, i have to sit through a godzilla marathon with him

the first time he sees me breakdown from the stress he's kinda flustered at first; but he's seen similar things with oikawa so he has a faint idea what to do. damn his hugs feel so warm, so safe

i'm quicker to open up to him, once i got comfortable; and reassurance that if he needed someone to talk to i'll also be there

basically a slow burn best friends to lovers kinda thing

ngl i'd be crushing on him by the time we're entering second year maybe? but because we're friends i always throw the thought away because i don't wanna ruin what we have

but da heart wants what it wants

it would take: the teasing of his buddies back at japan after seeing him post ig pics of us together (it was me who did it, i grabbed his phone); and, my own set of friends getting annoyed at me for always being in denial—all these just for us to finally come into terms with what we feel for eo

"i have something to tell you," we'll say to eo before we enter the lib ksksksk

"oh, you go first-" "no, you-"

it's awkward but i'll be the first to confess and he's 👁👁

"you... what?" "smh don't make me say it again, iwa. does this mean we're not friends anymore?"

"yeah"

"oh..."

"because i like you too. you... wanna go out with me?"

First date x type of dates:

study dates are automatically a thing for sure; we've upgraded from lib to cafe dates

since we're like, friends before this, potential stuff for first dates are already crossed out since we've kinda done them already???

so this issue was raised and his mind said, "then let's redo everything,"

the first thing we did outside campus was go on a foodtrip. because i was craving filo food, and he was craving jap food. and then i have this kinda habit that when i get to eat something delicious, i silently squeal or hum in my seat he finds that cute

the "first date" doesn't really have to be grand because we're like... close friends with feelings. so we don't have to try hard to please each other. everything just feels natural when we're together

anyway, we try out the food we didn't have before. he still prefers sinigang over adobo. he's still kinda amazed where i put all the food after eating a bowl of ramen that's good for two

he's gonna take a pic of me in that excited face i make when the food is placed before me and make it his wallpaper (homescreen) secretly

after that, we're just walking, me telling him about something i watched or nerd talk, then he slips his hand against mine, holding it and pulling me closer that it makes me shut up–so he laughs

"that's all it takes to get you quiet, babe?"

"w-what? also... did you just call me babe? because i didn't think i'd like it,"

"i know something you'll like," he stops walking, then, with his free hand he cups my face and pulls in for a kith kith 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

i am blushing when i tell him, "that your first kiss?"

"y-yeah, why?"

"same"

we were already walking and he swoops in for a quick peck again, "then that's the second,"

he says that with a little frown on his face, cheeks also flushed and ugh soft!lee—i lean my head against his arm because i'm too short to put it above his shoulder. but anyway i tell him, "didn't think you had it in you to be this soft for me,"

"sh-shut up"

it doesn't seem romantic because ✨it doesn't have to be when we're already happy✨

While we’re dating:

he saves all the selfies i send him; whether it's the meme-ish ones or just me feelin' good about myself he's got them saved

notebooks getting interchanged kskskss it's terrible because one minute i'm reading my notes about pharma, then i flip a page and i see stuff about sports science like–???

tho what makes it cute is that he has tiny scribbles on corners in hiragana or maybe kanji and some random zigzag lines over some words–a sign that he fell asleep with a pen in his hand

i have lots of caps (that are majority of my dad's but i like them all so i brought sum) and he just... gets one from behind my door (it's the same energy as the hoodies thing)

and i 🥺 bc he actually looks good in caps like??? sir that's illegal

ok but walks in the beach at sunset

also surfer!iwa???? mhhhh yes yes living the dream honestly

ofc volleyball is involved, he's kinda pleased i can play decently. it's either the gym or vb

he would force me to go to the gym smh "you're a PT aren't you? shouldn't you be moving around too?" i'm gonna grumble but the sight of his er, toned body before during and after exercising is the best reward

actually its a win-win, he likes how my butt is outlined by my jog pants and how for him, i still look good even if i'm sweaty all over

hehe we'd end up getting horny by the time we reach the dorms–you know the rest and afterwards:

"so, you'll go to the gym more often now?"

"if it ends up like this, i wouldn't mind,"

we teach eo our mother language! but only on our spare time. omg imagine him telling me "mahal na mahal kita"??? i'm??? or when he's chatting with oikawa (especially that one time he sent a selfie of him and ushijima) he uses tagalog swear words if he just wants to mess with his best friend

vidcalls with each other's fam—i mean, for my parents they know we've been always close, and like, it will be my grandma/dad who'd ask him, "when will you court my granddaughter/daughter?"

he got so nervous, he stuttered, "i'm... i'm courting her already,"

anyway they approve of him because he is smart^TM and a good man 🥺 because they know he has ambitions in life the same way that i do have my own goals i wanna achieve

meanwhile me, i'm gonna be so nervous trying to speak to his fam, but they're all so sweet so i tell him afterwards, "so that's where you get the softies,"

anyway since this is college we're talking about, every passing year, we both become busy, especially when internships come around

but when he can, he'll fetch me from the hospital with comfort food because he knows it's been a rough day and he wants to make sure i'm taking care of myself 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 lowkey i try to do the same for him because he deserves it; but he says it's okay and that i should be preserving my energy for my studies 😭

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i7pinyaapples · 6 years

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IDOLiSH7 3rd Anniversary Story Part 1 Translation

Find me on twitter @pinyaapples. Please credit me on any reposts and do not use elsewhere without permission. Video is unlisted for a reason, it’s just for people who don’t play the game but want to hear the voices. Please don’t repost or link elsewhere. Thanks!

Part two Part three Part four

Rinto: Yuki-kun, Momo-kun, congratulations on the third anniversary of your show, “NEXT Re:vale”!

Momo: Thanks Okarin!! But you’re saying that early!

Rinto: It’s still a little bit in the future but our impulsive president said to give this in celebration already...

Yuki: Suddenly, sea bream?

Momo: But Yuki can’t eat fish!

Rinto: I think he got a little over-excited and bought it… I’m so sorry about my brother as always.

Rinto: On the day of I will properly make sure that we celebrate with things you both can eat!

Yuki: Tell Rintarou to get his act together, ok? Momo, you might as well eat the fish since it’s here.

Momo: Really?! But, what about you Yuki?

Yuki: I’ll eat dandelions.

Momo: That’s nostalgic! When we didn’t have any money Yuki used to eat the dandelions from the park all the time.

Momo: At first I didn’t know they were edible so I was shocked thinking that he was so hungry he’d eat weeds…

Yuki: Momo would also often go to the creek and catch small fry[1] to eat.

Yuki: I thought “small fry” was a term solely in shounen manga so when Momo said he “caught some small fry” I thought a battle was about to start or something…

Rinto: Ah… I’m sorry that you two had to go through such hardships.

Rinto: But, that very same Re:vale is now the top idol group celebrating the third anniversary of their named show!!

Momo & Yuki: Whoooo!!

Rinto: The new song is also breaking sales records!!

Momo & Yuki: Whoooo!!

Rinto: We’ll keep bringing our dreams to you guys from now on!!!

Momo & Yuki: Whoooo!!

Rinto: Yes! Thank you so much! Wait, why are you cheering for me?

Yuki: It felt like a live MC. [2]

Momo: It was super cool!! O-ka-rin! O-ka-rin!!!

Rinto: Please…

Momo & Yuki: O-ka-rin!! O-ka-rin!!!

Rinto: Re:vale and Re:vale’s manager are the best!!!!!!

Momo & Yuki: Whoooo!!

Rinto: I’ll never let you guys resort to eating dandelions and small fry every again!!!

Momo & Yuki: Whoooo!!

Yuki: I’ll still eat dandelions though.

Momo: I like small fry! They’re super yummy if you make them into tempura!!

Rinto: Then why did you bother cheering…

Momo & Yuki: Dunno.

Rinto: Ahem… Returning to the topic at hand, the third anniversary edition of NEXT Re:vale is scheduled to be a special episode!

Rinto: The guest lineup is super glamorous! All members of popular idol groups TRIGGER and IDOLiSH7 will be participating!

Yuki: Sounds like fun.

Momo: Let’s make a super fun show together with our adorable kouhai idols! [3]

Rinto: I have high expectation! Re:vale is the top class of idols not only because of their amazing concerts, but also for their ability to make everyone smile during variety shows!

Rinto: With your energetic conversations and the usual married couple act, please brighten and excite all of Japan like the sun itself!

----------

Tsumugi: It’s been decided that you all will be guests on the upcoming third anniversary episode of NEXT Re:vale!!

Mitsuki: A third anniversary! That’s exciting!

Iori: Their stable ratings guarantee that it will be a long running show. As expected of Re:vale.

Riku: Three years is so cool! Why don’t we take the opportunity to pick out some kind of present for them?

Sougo: That sounds nice! I wonder what would make Yuki-san and Momo-san happy.

Yamato: Those two are complete opposites… Yuki-san is an indoors loving vegetarian, while Momo enjoys the outdoors and eating meat…

Tamaki: King Pudding!! King Pudding isn’t meat or plants, and it doesn’t have to be indoors or outdoors!

Nagi: OH! How about character references from Magical★Kokona?! It will definitely get you fired up HOT!

Yamato: Those are just what you guys want… Oh, Banri-san! Wouldn’t he know?

Banri: Hm? What do you need?

Riku: Yuki-san and Momo-san have opposite interests, but do you know anything they both like Banri-san?

Banri: Hm… I wonder…. Maybe…. Me?

Iori: Even for an old friend, I think you’re the only one who could say something so outrageous about the top idols Re:vale....

Tamaki: They’d definitely be happy but I don’t wanna give them Banchan!! He’s MEZZO”s manager after all!

Banri: Are you guys perhaps trying to think of a present for them?

Tsumugi: Yes, to celebrate the third anniversary of NEXT Re:vale.

Banri: In that case, I think the ultimate present would be for you guys to have a good time and liven up the show with them!

Mitsuki: Liven it up huh… Oh, what about something like this?

Yamato: Oh? Did you come up with something good?

Mitsuki: Re:vale’s always doing the married couple comedy act right? But usually me or Yamato-san act as the straight man and cut them off.

Mitsuki: This time, instead of cutting them off, we could try pulling off our own comedy act!

Sougo: A similarly exciting act?

Riku: Oh!! I know this!! It’s “and then”

Mitsuki: “And then”?

Riku: Umm.. Iori, try saying something!

Iori: What do you mean by something?

Riku: Something funny! Like, [iori voice] “I’m known as the perfect highschooler”.

Iori: I’m not really saying that to be funny though…

Tamaki: Hahaha, that’s hilarious

Iori: I said it wasn’t supposed to be funny!

Riku: And then!

Iori: ..?

Riku: Aaaaand then?

Iori: Uh, like I said, it’s not really meant to be a joke…

Riku: Aaaaaaaand then?

Iori: What is this… Nanase-san, can you not try to pressure me with that innocent smile?

Riku: Aaaaaaaaaaand then???

Iori: uh……..Ni….Nii-san….

Mitsuki: It’s ok Iori I’ve got this. Riku, you’re trying to do the thing where you keep prompting “and then” and extend the joke right?

Riku: Yeah!!! That!

Iori: You’re supposed to have a lead in to the act! Your comedic timing is the worst!

Riku: Ok then tell me when to start! I’ll set a timer!

Iori: It’s not something where you can just say “in 5 minutes”... You’re supposed to naturally follow the flow of the conversation.

Riku: And then???

Iori: You know that wasn’t the right time!! You’re doing this on purpose Nanase-san.

Riku: ehehehe.

Yamato: I wonder if Re:vale would go along with that… Momo-san is good at ad lib but I think it’d probably be too much for Yuki-san.

Sougo: Indeed… If you only respond with noncommittal phrases like “right” then the conversation’s atmosphere can get a little weird.

Sougo: It might be safer for us to come up with an act that we can pull off ourselves.

Nagi: Oh!! Then let’s do this! While Re:vale does their married couple act, we’ll add in cheers and calls!

Tamaki: What’s a call?

Yamato: Like the cheering lines you’d do for a champagne call? [4] That might be good for exciting the room.

Nagi: YES! Like a cheerleader or cheering squad [5] let’s pump up Re:vale with calls!

Mitsuki: Then, let’s try practicing it a bit! MEZZO”, you guys be Re:vale.

Sougo: Be Re:vale? What do you mean?

Tamaki: ♪Say it, No Doubt~♫

Riku: Not singing like them, the married couple act! Sougo, you say something cool and then Tamaki can call him handsome!

Sougo: Something cool…

Nagi: OK! And then, we will add special calls in between! LET’S TRY!

Sougo: ……..

Sougo: Ro…..

Sougo: Rock n roll.

Tamaki: ♪Say it, No Doubt~♫

Mitsuki: MEZZO” is a mess!

Riku: Tamaki, why are you singing?!

Tamaki: Cuz Re:vale is really cool when they’re singing! I wanna do it too.

Sougo: If that’s what Tamaki wants, we can go with that?

Iori: Osaka-san, please don’t get swept up by him. I’m fairly certain Re:vale will be taking care of their own singing parts.

Yamato: “Rock n roll” doesn’t really seem to fit the married couple act either… Nagi, give him some lines or advice or something.

Nagi: OK! Sougo, COME ON!

Sougo: Ah, thank you…

Tamaki: They’re whispering over there…

Mitsuki: I wonder what kind of lines he’s gonna give…

Sougo: Eh? Isn’t that embarrassing to say?

Nagi: No, no! It’s the coolest! It fits you perfectly Sougo.

Nagi: OK! LET’S TRY!

Sougo: Tamaki, what’s up with you today, hiding your wings and appearing before me?

Sougo: You’ll get exposed as a naughty angel.

Tamaki: Darling, so handsome!

The rest of i7: ♪Say it, No Doubt~♫

Tamaki: Why are you singing!!!!

The rest of i7: ♪Oh Oh Oh Oh, Oh Oh Oh Oh~♫

Tamaki: You’re doing the oh oh part too!!!

Mitsuki: It’s a cool part!

Yamato: Everyone wants to try singing it once right.

Nagi: Sougo, a very good job!

Sougo: Thanks. It was embarrassing…

Riku: I got pumped! NO DOUBT works great, let’s just use it as our calls.

Iori: “Works great”...Please don’t refer to our important senpai’s hit song’s chorus like you found convenient ingredients in the fridge…

Mitsuki: I think Re:vale would like it but the melody is a little tense for raising excitement.

Nagi: Hm…. Indeed, it does sound like the theme for a suspense drama. Like a crazy criminal will jump out at any moment.

Yamato: Ah, I totally get that, and like the criminal’s public face is an elite doctor or something.

Yamato: Wait, that was me! [6]

Mitsuki: It sure was.

Sougo: Uh.. we knew that.

Yamato: ...ugh… The atmosphere after you straight-man your own joke… I wanna run away so bad…

Iori: Nanase-san, now is the time.

Riku: And then?!?!

Yamato: Riku, stop that. Ichi, you too, stop enabling him.

Mitsuki: Hey, let’s do this seriously! We owe a lot to Re:vale.

Riku: You’re right, let’s think of the best calls and make Re:vale happy!

Tamaki: Yeah! Something that’ll make Yukirin laugh so hard his eyes roll back and he can’t talk for a bit.

Sougo: I think that would be problematic...

Tsumugi: Understood! Banri-san and I will take on the married couple act so that IDOLiSH7 can practice their calls.

Riku: Eh?!

Yamato: What, do you have an objection Riku?

Riku: N-no, but..

Banri: Can you guys give me a second?

Iori: Where are you going Banri-san?

Banri: Well… If we’re going to do the married couple act… I need to make sure the President isn’t anywhere nearby...

Yamato: It’s dangerous having a boss with a daughter of marriageable age around huh.

Tsumugi: I’m sorry about my dad…

Banri: It’s no problem. Ok, let’s do it!

Mitsuki: Ok, let’s do our best! Everyone try to liven it up with ad lib okay?

IDOLiSH7: Yeah!

Banri: Why do you think I made sure to finish up work early today?

Tsumugi: Uh.. why is that?

Banri: Because tonight…

Banri: [bedroom voice] I won’t be letting you escape.

*DOOR OPENS*

Takanashi: What did you say?

Banri: SCREECH

Tsumugi: Banri-san, so handsome~

Mitsuki: LOVE!

IDOLiSH7: YEAH!

Mitsuki: LOVE!

IDOLiSH7: YEAH!

IDOLiSH7: LOVE DOVEY NICE COUPLE!

Takanashi: Cou..ple..?!

Banri: That’s not it!! We’re just!

Mitsuki: LOVE!

IDOLiSH7: YEAH!

Mitsuki: LOVE!

IDOLiSH7: YEAH!

IDOLiSH7: SUPER DARLING! GO! GO! [7]

Banri: Stop! Pause for a bit!!

Takanshi: “GO”? ...Where do you intend on GOing with my daughter?

Mitsuki: LET’S GO! [8]

IDOLiSH7: MARRIAGE INTERVIEW!

Mitsuki: LET’S GO!

IDOLiSH7: LOVEY DOVEY!

IDOLiSH7: LET’S GO LET’S GO LET’S GO MARRIED COUPLE!

Takanashi: M a r r i e d c o u p l e? I don’t recall being formally introduced to the groom though? : )

Banri: No no no please I swear that’s not it.

Takanashi: Speaking to me like equals????

Banri: Everyone please stop for a second!!! This is becoming a great disaster for me, please!!

IDOLiSH7: LOVEY DOVEY ULTRA HAPPY!

Iori: As expected of top idols!

Riku: But we won’t lose either!

Banri: You planned out speaking turns too?!

Tamaki: We wanna be like you!

Sougo: With those feelings incorporated!

Nagi: Here is a special message from us!

Mitsuki: We’re counting on you, leader!

Yamato: Nikaido Yamato, currently recruiting a girlfriend!

IDOLiSH7: Yeah!!

Mitsuki: LOVE!

IDOLiSH7: YEAH!

Mitsuki: LOVE!

IDOLiSH7: YEAH!

IDOLiSH7: LOVE DOVEY NICE COUPLE!

Banri: That’s enough please I’m begging we can stop now thank you.

Takanashi: Banri-kun, I have something to talk to you about, so please come to the president’s office. :)))))

Banri: ..Understood…

Tsumugi: Wait, dad, no! Um, sorry everyone, I have to leave for a bit.

*Door closes*

Sougo: Will Banri-san be okay…

Riku: But it was really funny! We did good!

Mitsuki: Yeah! I think Re:vale will enjoy it!

Tamaki: Yeah!! Yukirin’s gonna die laughing!

Iori: I think Momo-san will find it enjoyable as well.

Nagi: Hm, but I want to end the calls with sweet words as befitting an idol. Right, Yamato?

Yamato: Yeah… But TRIGGER is participating too, so can’t we just leave it to them?

Nagi: Oh! Yamato won’t lose to TRIGGER though!!

Yamato: Nagi… You’re a nice guy… But wait, the ending is still being assigned to me...?

Nagi: OF COURSE~

Riku: Do your best Yamato-san!

Tamaki: Good luck Yama san

Iori: I have no idea how the real thing is going to go...

---[Notes]----

[1] A pun that actually sorta translates, Yuki is punning off of 雑魚, meaning small fish or small fry (fry referring to baby fish), but also is used as in English to refer to random punks i.e. ‘a bunch of small fry attacked me’. Too bad ‘fry’ isnt a more well known term for fish in English, I wouldn’t have to put a note.

[2] The part of the live with the idol speaking directly to the audience, thanking and announcing stuff etc.

[3] opposite of senpai, underclassmen/people who’ve been working the same job for less time

[4] ramuda voice: champagne call

[5] cheering squad - ouendan like with gakuran n stuff

[6] i guess yamato played an evil elite doctor in the drama no doubt was used for www cute

[7] ‘supadari’ is apparently japanese slang for “ideal man” or “eligible bachelor” based on english words super darling

#idolish7 #idolish seven #i7 #third anniversary

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sairyn-noc · 6 years

Text

A Fork in the Road

Written for @accol-fics

Harvey didn’t believe in fate. No, he believed in hard work, a strong will, and the balls to do whatever it took to win. That was all the fate he needed. But life has a way of teaching you lessons and proving to you that sometimes it doesn’t matter how much you fight, there are some battles you just can’t win. If someone would have told him that his quick decision to hire some kid off the street seven years ago to be his associate would lead him here, to this, he probably wouldn’t have believed them. Over the years, Harvey battled the various emotions that threatened to consume him when it came to Mike, but it was no use. He still found his way here- watching the man he loved say goodbye.

It wasn’t supposed to happen- not like this. Truth be told, not at all. Love was for fools who didn’t know any better. And Harvey was no fool, at least he didn’t think he was. But that was before. Now, Harvey wasn’t sure. He stared out of the window of his office having slipped out of the party easily, a tumbler in his grasp. The grey skies reflected his mood. In a few hours the city would be covered in snow, the streets empty and cold. Yes, it was a perfect day for clouds. Because soon there would be no sun, no heat, no Mike.

Finish on AO3

Harvey raised the glass to his lips and swallowed greedily, trying to force down the emotions threatening to overload his consciousness. He closed his eyes and willed himself not to go there; not to relive every smile, every laugh, every moment Mike and he spent together. But it was no use. Seven years was a long time, and yet it went by in the blink of an eye. And just like every movie Harvey loved, his mind went back in time to the beginning- the day a very young ‘Rick Sorkin’ dropped a briefcase of weed at his feet. The memory made him chuckle.

Harvey could still recall how much Mike impressed him that day. So much so Harvey did the unspeakable, he hired him. That wasn’t fate; that was just good business. And besides, it worked.

While the first year was an experiment in “what can we get away with”, the second was filled with secrets, compromises and blackmail. It also brought the first inkling that maybe there was something more than just a defiant streak that had him fighting to keep Mike at his side if defying Jessica’s order to fire Mike was any indication. Sure, he had told himself at the time it was because Mike was valuable to the firm, but looking back, he could easily see it was because of something else; something he couldn’t name that made him resist Mike leaving. Little did he know that following year would be the beginning of the end. That was the year he told Rachel the truth.

Oh sure, Harvey was supportive. Why wouldn’t he be? He had plenty of people willing to warm his bed. What did he care if Mike risked everything over Rachel? Apparently, with hindsight being 20-20, he did. How else could he explain the rage over losing Mike to become an investment banker, leaving Harvey’s side? Or better still, the relief of him coming back- where he belonged, his mind ad-libbed. But nothing was more telling than the last year.

It nearly broke Harvey to watch Mike walk through the gates of Danbury- their secret no longer hidden in the shadows. Harvey believed watching Mike get tried, convicted and sentenced to jail, was the lowest point in his life. And then, when he was released, when he was back and tangible and free, Harvey ignored the twist in his gut as he watched him run into Rachel’s arms. It was enough, he told himself; just to have him free was enough. But with each passing day, it got harder. Instead of Mike following him, it was him chasing after Mike. For all of his bluster and confidence, Harvey was a walking, talking, exposed live nerve- and Mike was the spark of electricity. He spent the last year trying to find the solution to his own personal Kobayashi Maru- his very own doomsday scenario. No matter what he did, it didn’t stop his descent into madness, and it definitely didn’t prevent this day from coming. A soft voice interrupted his thoughts.

“I thought I would find you in here.”

Harvey looked to see Donna standing against the door jamb.

“Just needed a break.”

“Hmm, I see, she said walking into the office to stand next to him. “You know if you need company…” Her voice tapered off and Harvey heard the concern or was it fear, beneath the statement.

That was the last thing he wanted. They still hadn’t talked about that damn kiss. Nor did he want too. But apparently, the shit storm that was his life was intent on making another visit.

“Donna can we just not… do this right now?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, disappointment lacing her answer. She headed towards the door.

Shit, he thought. “Donna wait.”

She stopped, her back still to him. He watched her stiffen, bracing herself, before turning around to face him.

“I get it, Harvey,” she said firmly.

“No, you don't” he sighed.

She pegged him with her signature ‘don’t be an idiot’ look. “Yeah, I do. Don’t forget, I know you better than anyone.”

He looked away as if he could prevent her from seeing a truth he hadn’t even acknowledged yet.

“That night I kissed you, I thought that … Well, I had hoped that maybe now, now that…”

Harvey did not want to talk about this. Not. At. All. He gulped the rest of his drink down and slammed his glass on his desk. Balling his hand up into a fist, Harvey did the one thing he knew he did best; disguised his discomfort in anger.

“You thought what, Donna? That after all this time, you would just waltz in here, kiss me and we would fall into some stupid fantasy you’ve been carrying around for years?” His words were biting, and he saw her flinch more than once, but he couldn’t stop.

“What the hell were you thinking? We’ve been friends too long…”

“Yes. Harvey,” she cut in. “Friends. And for years I have watched you run away, ignore and avoid the glaringly obvious truth you seemed incapable of acknowledging. Talk about the elephant in the room! Everyone could see it, everyone except you and possibly…”

“Don’t,” he warned, his voice a controlled whisper.

“Don’t what Harvey? Speak the truth? Well, too bad,” she hissed in return.

Donna stalked closer to him, her finger pointed at his chest.

“I spent years wondering if I made the wrong decision that morning, I kicked you out of my apartment with a smile and a promise that we would never share a bed again. But I got my answer, the night I kissed you. Because even then, despite all that has happened, everything that is happening now, I could tell you were wishing you were kissing someone else.”

“Donna!”

She startled at his abrupt outburst, stopping her tirade. They stared at each other silently for a moment, before she schooled her features into a mask of indifference, then turned to walk out. She paused at the door before turning back to face him once again.

“At least I got my answer,” she said flippantly. “…yours is downstairs, getting ready to leave to go and marry someone else.” With that parting shot, she left.

Harvey released the breath he had been holding and slumped into his chair. He would like to believe that her words didn’t affect him, but he refused to lie to himself. Not anymore and especially not tonight. Harvey was in love. He hadn’t expected it, didn’t want it, in fact, he fought it at every turn. But there was no more denying it. Harvey wanted someone.

Someone he couldn’t have.

Someone who was in love with another.

Someone who was downstairs that very moment.

Someone who was Mike Ross. And Harvey never had the balls to tell him.

But I got my answer. Donna’s words ran through his head on a loop. Harvey thought of all the moments, all the wasted opportunities to say something, anything, but didn’t. How could he be- when up until recently, he couldn’t even admit it to himself. Him. In love. With a guy. Never saw that coming, he mused silently. That’s not to say, Harvey had never been with a man. Back at Harvard, Harvey was known for being a switch hitter. He just never saw himself entertaining the thought of settling down with another man. But here he was, wanting just that.

Too bad it’s too late, the voice, which sounded suspiciously like Donna’s, rang in his head.

Harvey got up and poured another two fingers, intending on drinking enough to drown away his traitorous thoughts and forget about the man downstairs who soon would be another memory. Sure, Mike had told them that nothing would change. But they both knew it was a lie. Everything would change. How could it not? New life, new wife, before long a family. No. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t stand by and torture himself like that on a daily basis. It was best to cut the tie now. He had his chance- and he didn’t take it. He lifted the glass once again, surprised to find it empty. Harvey was about to refill it when Mike’s voice filtered into the room.

“Harvey?”

Harvey looked up to see his office door once again occupied. Mike stood there in his crumpled suit pants, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and eyes a little too bright. Apparently, Harvey wasn’t the only one who may or may not have had a glass or two too many.

“I looked around and you were gone. What ya doing up here?”

“What do you think I’m doing. I’m working,” Harvey answered dismissively.

Of course, Mike didn’t take the cue. “Huh. Really? Cause from where I am standing it looks like you’re avoiding a very good party.”

“Then you’re standing in the wrong spot,” he tried again.

Mike walked across the threshold and grabbed a clean glass- holding it out. Defeated, Harvey poured them both a drink. Mike took a sip and sat on the couch.

“I saw Donna a little bit ago. She was leaving, kept saying something about needing her beauty sleep.”

Harvey stayed silent.

“I take it things aren’t going so well between you two.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harvey deflected.

“Really. Considering just a few weeks ago she came to me hinting around about taking a chance and needing to find answers. It seemed like you two were finally getting together.”

“Donna and I are friends,” Harvey groaned.

“Friends. I have lots of friends…” Mike began.

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do and don’t interrupt. Like I was saying. I have lots of friends, but I don’t go around kissing them in my office.”

Harvey felt a warm blush creep up his neck. He had no idea that his and Donna’s little ‘tête à tête’ was witnessed by anyone. Especially not Mike.

“Well, then maybe you’re doing it wrong.”

“What? Kissing in my office or kissing my friends?” Mike smirked.

“Both,” Harvey answered, barely suppressing a sigh.

“I’ll keep that in mind for future use. But seriously, Harvey. What is going on with you? Did you guys fight?”

“Mike,” Harvey sighed. “I told you a long time ago, Donna and I had our time. But it wasn’t meant to be. I love her, I will always love her. But not like that.”

Mike took a sip and cocked his head to the side- appearing to mull Harvey’s statement over in his head.

“Meant to be? Does the great Harvey Specter believe in destiny?” he chuckled lightly.

“Harvey Specter believes in Harvey Specter.”

“Yeah, yeah. So, tell me this then, counselor. Why then did I witness the two of you making out.”

“I had no idea you were a voyeur, Mike,” Harvey countered.

The banter felt good, felt right. The ground beneath his feet for the moment was steady, despite the topic.

“Are you going to answer my question?” Mike asked, unwilling to be swayed.

Harvey looked at his once protege. Gone was the shy kid whose off-the-rack suits hung disproportionately off his once-wiry frame. No, the man before him now was confident, polished, and something he never saw coming. There was also something else- a fierce determination even more apparent at his insistence surrounding his question.

“Is this why you left your party? To come try out your interrogation skills with me? Which, I may add, are abysmal,” Harvey fake admonished.

“Hey, my skills are top notch. Louis taught me everything I needed to know.”

“Oh, Louis did, did he? No wonder you suck at it,” Harvey laughed.

“Look Mike, this is your night. Go down there and enjoy your party, enjoy your fiancée, enjoy your life. You don’t need to worry about me. Donna and I just had a misunderstanding. We will be fine. We always are.”

“Are you sending me away, Specter?”

“I could never send you away,” he breathed. If only he could.

The weight of his statement hung between them. Mikes eyes flickered briefly, and Harvey wondered if Mike could somehow read his thoughts and feelings beneath the words.

“Good,” Mike stated before rising. “Because I don’t want to go,” he added. The words were soft as if they slipped out without conscious thought.

Mike caught Harvey’s eyes briefly and for a moment they blazed with the same heat and intensity as Donna’s had earlier. Then he was walking out of the office into the hall.

Harvey’s heart and brain waged battle in the seconds that ticked by. His brain reminded him that Mike was a taken man; while his heart screamed at him to not waste what could be his last chance.

“Mike,” Harvey called out, jumping up quickly from his chair.

Mike, already in front of the elevators, turned to look at him.

“Yeah?”

“You free tomorrow? Movie marathon? See if you’ve learned anything over the last seven years.”

“You’re on,” Mike grinned. “Prepared to be slayed, Specter.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Harvey smiled in return.

In the battle between his heart and his brain, Harvey couldn’t tell if either truly won that round. Technically, it wasn’t as if he professed his love to Mike. But it was something- wasn’t it? Either way, Harvey would enjoy tomorrow. Yes, he was avoiding the inevitable, but for one more day, he could pretend it was just the two of them against the world.

~~~~

Morning came too soon for Harvey. In fact, when he was awakened by the pounding at his door. He was just in the middle of a dream that had him standing in the middle of nowhere. Three roads fanned out before him. The one to his left was bathed in warm sunset hues. On it stood a group of those people and things long past. His parents, an abandoned baseball field, a younger version of himself when he was Assistant DA, Jessica, Scottie, Zoe, Donna and many more loves and lovers who he had shared his time and or bed. The middle road was bright like the midday sun. He could see occasional clouds and storms in the distance but even those had sun streaks behind them, telling him the storms were passing through. This road looked to be his present life. Images of the firm, with flashes of him in and out of a courtroom, and off to the side was a clear-cut snapshot of the moment he met Mike Ross. Behind that, were snapshots of all their adventures- the good (sneaking into Louis’ office while high), the bad (Mike being caught by Anita) and the mundane.

But it was the third path that bothered him- it was forked. One side was obscured by fog and dark skies with intermittent flashes of lightning. The other was clear, cold and desolate. The path of least resistance…. Harvey began to step towards that one. Harvey was not known for playing it safe, but walking into a storm that he couldn’t see through seemed- unwise. What kind of jackass would do that? He told his dream self. Before Harvey could take a step, the pounding on the door returned.

As his consciousness came back online, the dream faded. A quick glance at the clock told him it was three am. He rolled out of bed and padded over, ready to give a good tongue lashing to whoever was at his door. That threat died when he saw the familiar blonde messy hair through the peephole.

“I thought you had grown out of this,” he mumbled as he opened the door.

“Nope,” Mike replied, popping the ‘p’ like he used to. ” You going to let me in?”

Harvey glanced at Mike scrutinizing him. “Not until you tell me why you are on my doorstep in the middle of the night. I don’t see blood or bone. And you don’t look high or drunk…”

“You said movie marathon,” Mike answered.

“Nowhere in that statement meant at three am.”

“I wanted to get an early start?” Mike held up a six-pack of beer and a bag.

“Uh huh… Get in here.”

Harvey stepped aside so Mike could walk by. After a silent prayer to whoever was listening for strength, he closed the door to face his demons head-on. Harvey meandered to the kitchen where Mike was pulling out a couple of bottles.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the gesture,” Harvey stated as he reached out to still Mike’s hand from opening the first bottle.

“…but how about we start with some coffee, so I can stop seeing two of you, and then you can tell me why you are really here.”

Mike lifted both his hands in a gesture of surrender and headed for the couch. Within minutes, the smell of fresh roast coffee wafted throughout the kitchen. Harvey grabbed two mugs and joined Mike.

“Now you want to let me in on what’s going on?”

Mike took a sip and frowned. “Bitter.”

“I swear,” Harvey sighed, walking back to the kitchen. “When will you learn how to drink coffee like an adult?”

“Never.”

Harvey returned to the couch with the sugar. “Here Peter Pan. Don’t come crying to me when your teeth rot.”

“Who else am I going to come to?”

“How about your soon to be wife?” Harvey answered sarcastically.

“But she won’t treat me like you do,” Mike whined.

“I should hope not,” Harvey chuckled.

Requisite amount of sugar added, Mike took a big gulp of the steaming liquid and smiled.

“Happy now Princess?”

“Yes,” he answered easily.

“Good. Now you want to tell me why you are at my door in the middle of the night?”

Mike looked down for a moment, burying his nose in his cup. Harvey was willing to wait. It only took a moment. With a heavy sigh, Mike put down his mug and turned to face Harvey.

“Maybe I just wanted to do something that was familiar. Something that was all mine. With all of the changes at the firm, my decision to cut back and my wedding in a few weeks, I just wanted a piece of my old life. And when you brought up a movie marathon day, well, I found I wanted that more than anything at the moment.”

“I get that, Harvey replied. “But it still doesn’t answer the question why are you here now?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Making the decision to not push any further, Harvey changed direction.

“You want to sleep here, then get started first thing?”

Mike smiled and reached for his bag. “Thought you would never ask.”

Harvey picked up the two mugs and went to the closet to retrieve a pillow and some blankets.

“Here,” he said, throwing and effectively hitting Mike square in the chest. “You know the drill. Whoever wakes first makes pancakes.”

“I’ll take blueberry.”

“What makes you think I’ll wake first?” Harvey asked incredulously.

“In all the years you have known me, have I ever been the first to wake?”

Harvey cocked his head and sighed in fake annoyance. “Fine, blueberry. But don’t think I am letting you sleep all day.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Mike said, spreading the blankets across the length of the couch.

Harvey retreated to his room and attempted to go back to sleep. But all he could do was listen to the soft noises and rustles coming from his living room. It was maddening to know that Mike was so close and yet still a million miles away.

“Shit,” Harvey muttered into his pillow, before turning over and closing his eyes.

When he opened them again, it was to the sight of the sun streaming through his windows and the smell of bacon. He stole a quick glance at the clock- eight am. Harvey couldn’t remember the last time he saw Mike awake and alert this early without the threat of termination. He had to see this.

“I must have an intruder because I know damn well my soon to be ex-associate isn’t awake and in my kitchen making breakfast. Who are you and what have you done with Mike?”

“Funny,” Mike replied. “Have a seat. The coffee is fresh and bitter. Just the way you like it.”

Harvey grabbed a cup and sat at the counter while Mike flipped the bacon.

“So, what’s your pleasure Specter?”

Besides you? His thoughts flashed. “You making pancakes? Or should I order up something simple like eggs?”

“You can order anything you want,” Mike suggested.

And for a second, Harvey’s brain went offline. “How about chef’s choice,” Harvey managed to mumble. “I’m going to cue up today’s movie fest.”

“Sounds good,” Mike replied offhandedly before turning back to his mix.

Harvey couldn’t get a handle on his warring emotions. His brain was too busy trying to decipher and decode Mike’s strange behavior- which only got stranger. After begging to watch the Marvel movies in order, Mike was asleep before they even got to the first Captain America. Not that it mattered- Harvey still had a collection of original comics and the movies did not do them justice, but something was definitely off with his protégé.

“Mike,” Harvey nudged the man currently drooling on his leather couch.

“Hm?” a sleepy voice answered.

“Wake up.”

“I’m awake.”

“Really? Because it looks like you’re sleeping.”

“I’m not sleeping. I can tell you everything that happened.”

“Yes, I am sure you can. With your memory and all,” Harvey chided.

Mike lifted his head and stretched his arms above his head. Harvey did not, repeat, did not, look at the small patch of skin as Mike’s shirt rucked up. Instead, he stopped the film and turned to face him.

“Okay Mike. Let’s have it. What’s going on?”

“I told you, I just wanted a day for me.”

“And you have had one. Now why don’t you tell me why you are avoiding going home.”

Mike sat up and sighed loudly, “I don’t know. I mean, I love Rachel. I proposed, we set a date and then I went to jail.”

“Yes, I was there. But now you are free. You have spent the last year rebuilding your life, the life you want,” Harvey stated blandly.

“Is it?”

“Is what?”

“Is it the life I want?”

And then just like that, Harvey knew the real problem. Mike was having second thoughts. Harvey would be lying if the thought of Mike not getting married didn’t fill him with a certain sense of relief, but his better angels prevailed. So instead of pushing Mike further, he went with reassurance.

“You know Mike. What you’re feeling is normal. A lot of people have second thoughts; it’s called ‘cold feet’. You know you love Rachel and she loves you. There is nothing wrong with being happy. If anyone deserves it, it’s you.”

Mike stayed silent, his hands shuffled back and forth through his hair. Harvey recognized the gesture, Mike often did that when he was struggling with something.

“Mike,” Harvey started again. His voice a little softer. He grabbed Mike’s elbow, stopping Mike’s motion. “Mike, look at me.”

Mike turned. His eyes were wide, trusting, and a little frightened. Harvey’s mouth went dry. Once again, he had to swallow his first instinct to reach out and pull Mike into his arms. But Mike wasn’t his.

“Rookie…,” he started again. “Have I ever steered you wrong?”

“No.” Mike’s voice was small almost childlike.

“Then trust me now. You got this. You and Rachel are going to have a great life together. Promise. Now go home.”

Mike smiled and sighed with relief. Ten minutes later, Mike was packed and walking out of Harvey’s condo. And Harvey? Well, Harvey died a little.

~~~

Harvey spent the next few weeks working like a madman. His relationship with Donna was still strained and Mike was spending less and less time at the firm which was fine by Harvey. Really it was. It allowed him to drown himself in his work. Harvey spent his days trying to rebuild the firm that seemed to be on life support at every turn and at night, making sure Mike’s wedding and everything that went along with it, was perfect. That is what you do for someone you love, no matter how much it hurts. It wasn’t until two nights before the wedding that Harvey got another late-night visit.

When the pounding came, Harvey was on the couch, his bed of choice as of late. He didn’t even bother to look. He knew who was on the other side. Opening the door, Harvey watched as Mike sauntered in- eyes bloodshot, and looking a bit thinner than he last remembered.

“You look like hell,” he said as way of greeting.

“Yeah well, tossing and turning every night will do that to you,” Mike grumbled.

“I thought we cured that the last time you showed up at my place in the middle of the night.”

“So did I.”

“Okay, so coffee or alcohol?” Harvey yawned.

“Neither,” Mike countered, and plopped on the couch.

“What?” Harvey responded surprised, his brain going on full alert.

“I just want to hang here for a bit,” Mike said, as way of explaining.

“Okay. Why don’t you pick out a movie and I will put on a pot of coffee for me.”

“Harvey,” Mike huffed. Can I just crash here?”

Alarmed, Harvey sat back down. “Mike, is there something going on? Did you and Rachel have a fight?”

“What? No!” Mike quickly answered. “I just… I guess maybe I am just having another bout of nerves.”

“Nerves. Okay. Tell me then. Do you love Rachel?”

“Yes.”

Harvey measured his next words carefully. “Are you in love with Rachel?”

This time, there was a pause before Mike answered.

“Of course.”

Harvey had built his career on reading people. Distinguishing truth from lies. And right now, Harvey knew Mike was lying. But this was not his fight, his truth to reveal; so he continued.

“Then why are you here, instead of at her side?”

Mike dropped his head. “I… I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice low and filled with emotion.

“Shouldn’t you…know?”

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do since the last time I was here?”

“I don’t know, Mike. What have you been doing?”

Mike’s eyes shone then. “Trying to figure out why this is the only place I want to come when my world isn’t right.”

“Well, I can answer that for you easily,” Harvey said trying to lighten the mood.

“You can?”

“Of course, Harvey countered. “I’m awesome.”

Mike chuckled. “And modest too.”

“It’s not bragging…”

“Yes, yes, Harvey I know, ‘if it’s true’,” Mike interrupted.

“Look Mike, I am not trying to tell you what to do. But did you ever stop to think that you are here, because you don’t want to be somewhere else?”

“That’s all I have thought about.”

“Well, don’t you think you might want to figure out what that means? Preferably before you walk down the aisle.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“No matter what, it’s going to be okay. I got your back.”

“Thanks Harvey. I mean it.”

“Anytime. So how about you try and get some sleep. I’m going back to bed.”

“I’m going to head out. I need to do some thinking.”

“You sure? It’s late.”

“I got this Harvey. Thanks.”

Mike closed the door with a thunk and Harvey dragged himself to bed.

He would’ve liked to say he went back to sleep. But every time he closed his eyes, his mind drifted back to the first night Mike had nerves and showed up at his place in the middle of the night. Images from that strange dream flashed behind his closed eyelids. What the hell was going on. Up until a few months ago, everything had been fine in Harvey’s world. Well, as fine as losing his mentor and trying to rebuild the firm and his reputation could allow. That was also before Donna decided to play whack-a-mole with their shared past. Now everything was topsy-turvy with Mike. It was like Harvey went to sleep one night and woke up in some strange alternate reality. What he wouldn’t give to wake up tomorrow and have a do-over. Harvey was supposed to be the man with all the answers. But lying in his bed after hearing Mike unknowingly confess that he wasn’t in love with Rachel left him lost. Maybe it’s a sign, he wondered. Although was it really? Maybe the absence of a sign is the sign. This is ludicrous, he told himself and turned over once again.

~~~

The morning of the wedding, Harvey woke to a myriad of texts starting just after five am. The first was from Mike, asking to meet him for breakfast. The others came from the rest of their friends, including a cryptic “WHAT DID YOU DO?” from Donna. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to determine what had happened. Harvey sent a quick text to Mike asking him when and where and grabbed a quick shower. An hour later, he walked through the doors of a little hole in the wall sporting a Best Breakfast 2017 award in the window. Mike was sitting in a corner booth, dressed smartly in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt; his winter coat folded (more like wadded up), next to him on the bench. The most telling sight though was the smile he was wearing. It seemed to brighten the entire room. Harvey found himself smiling in return when he caught his eye.

Harvey saw the two roads from his dream in the ten feet walk to where Mike sat. After everything they had been through, all the moments he chose the path of least resistance and kept silence, Harvey was getting one last reprieve. Maybe it was time to choose differently. Maybe there was such a thing as fate or destiny. Harvey took his seat across from Mike and ordered.

“So…” he started.

“Did you know…,” Mike interrupted, “…that the Greeks didn’t write obituaries?”

Harvey, not knowing where this was going, waited for Mike to continue.

“'They only asked one question after a man died, ‘Did he have passion?'”

“Is this what you have been doing while contemplating your future? Brushing up on the death practices of ancient civilizations?”

“Something like that,” Mike chuckled.

Their breakfast arrived shortly after and Harvey took a sip of coffee. “Are you going to tell me what happened? I mean, I can surmise that we will not be going to the church this afternoon, but the details are a little fuzzy.”

“Nothing happened, per se,” Mike began, after shoving another forkful of eggs into his mouth. “It’s just like you said. I wasn’t with Rachel because I wanted to be someplace else.”

“I assume that didn’t go over so well with her.”

Mike placed his fork down and looked at his plate. “No, not particularly. But it was still the right thing to do. I didn’t want to have the wedding only to have this same conversation weeks, months or years down the road. So yeah. She thinks I am a jerk.”

Harvey felt his heart grow with pride. Doing the right thing wasn’t always easy. Sometimes it hurt. He knew that first hand.

“Mike, I don’t think you’re a jerk. I think…” and then he stopped for a moment, the quotes finally falling into place. He wanted to laugh out loud. “I think you look like a jackass.”

Mike’s head snapped up and he smiled brightly. “And I think…you’re the shit!” he exclaimed excitedly.

“Serendipity? Didn’t think that was in your wheelhouse.” Harvey laughed.

“Why not? It’s a classic. Besides, you started it. All that talk about 'maybe you’re here because you don’t want to be somewhere else,'” Mike beamed.

He did have a point, Harvey conceded silently. If someone had told him that on the morning of Mike’s wedding, Harvey would make a life-altering choice, he would’ve laughed out loud. But sitting across from Mike at that moment, it seemed inevitable. Fate, destiny, serendipity, or whatever else was out there, waited for Harvey to make his move. Harvey took a deep breath and chose the unseen path.

“Mike, would you like to get out of here?”

“Sure. Any place you want to go?”

“No. Not really. I just know I would rather spend everyday with you than with anyone else.”

#marvey #marveysecretsanta2017 #fix it #hope everyone had a great holiday

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deadcactuswalking · 6 years

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Every Snoop Dogg & Pharrell Hit Song Reviewed, Part 1 (BLAST TO THE PAST)

Fo-shizzle, dizzle. It’s the big Neptizzle with the Snoopy D-O-double-jizzle! Name a better duo. I bet you millions that you can’t. I’d explain to you who these guys are, but don’t kid yourself, you know who they are, even if you’ve never heard a song by them (which is equally impossible). Both Snoop and Pharrell have transcended the music at this point and are worldwide personalities, starring in television, film and overall just being essential to pop culture. I cannot imagine a world without Calvin Cordozar Broadus, Jr.

Snoop and Pharrell were very close in the 2000s, specially the early and mid-2000s, when Pharrell’s group, the Neptunes, were massive hitmakers, producing tracks for JAY-Z, Pusha T, Kelis, Beyoncé, Justin Timberlake and more, including, of course, Snoop Dogg. Their funkier R&B-infused pop stylings were perfect for Snoop Dogg’s move from a “gangsta” image to a more soulful “pimp” image, sort of following 50 Cent’s footsteps as he shook the world with his debut album. Snoop’s gone through many phases and has had many companions throughout the decades he’s been active, but Master P, Wiz Khalifa and even Dr. Dre can never stack up to Pharrell and the Neptunes, who provided Snoop with some of his best material ever... which I’m surprised didn’t chart as well as I assumed in the US. I mean, Pharrell was everywhere, but I guess Snoop didn’t catch on as well as I thought excluding a few choice cuts. That’s beside the point. Welcome to BLAST TO THE PAST.

BLAST TO THE PAST: All Snoop Dogg & Pharrell Hits Reviewed

Yep, today, I’m reviewing all of the known and credited Snoop Dogg and Pharrell collaborations to chart on the Hot 100. The criteria is simple: it has to have Snoop Dogg performing with Pharrell or the Neptunes either performing or producing the track – and this had to be clear and credited work. I’m not looking into musical history to find all the tracks Pharrell has ghostwritten for Snoop, or how he provides ad-libs on a Dr. Dre deep cut. These are just the hits from the Dogg and Skateboard P. Before we get into this, however, let’s answer a couple questions you may be wondering.

How many of these songs are there?

To my surprise, there’s only six – and that’s including a feature. Yeah, to my surprise, only six of these tracks ever hit the Hot 100... and that is NOT including songs released by Snoop on Star Trak, the Neptunes’ record label, which he signed to in 2004, and left years later. That would be a bit much to ask, since Snoop is a superstar and he was under this label for a long time; I’d run out of both time and simply things to talk about... although I would have loved to talk about their 2010s collaboration “Peaches N Cream” that sadly never charted.

Why are you doing this?

Well, first of all: I love both of these guys. Snoop Dogg and Pharrell have made a lot of my favourite hip-hop tracks throughout the years, and they’re also icons, so I figured it’d be interesting to look at some of their history together.

Oh, and also because they’re still both charting and making hits in 2018. Yep, in fact, Snoop Dogg’s charting right now – at #63 on the Hot 100 as I write this is comedian Lil Duval’s “Smile (Living My Best Life)”, featuring Ball Greezy and Snoop Dogg. That’s insane for him, nearly 50 charting songs into his career, and countless other songs, television appearances and three decades of being a worldwide star, he’s still writing hit songs with up-and-coming artists. Same could be said with Pharrell, actually, as he had his own hit song earlier this year, “Lemon” featuring Rihanna, and back in 2013 and 2014, was bigger than he ever was. These guys have some pretty impressive longevity, and I kind of wanted to honour that. So, enough of me rambling. Let’s start with the first ever charting song from the duo...

#1 – “From tha Chuuuch to da Palace” – Snoop Dogg

Hot 100 Peak: #77 | Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs Peak: #23

This is “From tha Chuuuch to da Palace”, released on October 15th, 2002, written by Snoop, Pharrell and... R. Kelly. Well, then.

Produced by the Neptunes and featuring uncredited vocals from Pharrell, this was the lead single to Snoop’s sixth album, Paid tha Cost to be da Bo$$, released in 2002, that I actually own on CD, funnily enough. This album was a step in the right direction from reinventing his image after the No Limit Records era, as he signed to Priority and hooked up with the Neptunes, Just Blaze, Ludacris and more to establish a poppier form of his typical brand of relaxed gangsta rap. The now-platinum-certified album sold 174,000 copies in its first week – and this success was assisted by not only a controversy involving the final track “Pimp Slapp’d” but also the two singles that were released to promote the record. This first hit only peaked at #77, but, trust me – it probably had its fair share of MTV play considering the very well-directed and humorous video that may seem a bit dated now, but back when these types of humorous skits were more of a focal point in music videos, this was cool, alright? What about the song, though? How does that hold up today? Well, I’ll tell you what’s “fo’ shizzle” – this is a banger of a track, although it’s not the best way to introduce yourself to Pharrell’s works with Snoop, because this is more of a Timbaland beat than a Neptunes one. Sure, there are some elements of Neptunes, like Pharrell’s catchy hook, but theheavy synth-work and gang vocals typical of late 2000s Timbaland beats are here to stay for the whole of the song (and, yes, it does get old by the end)... however, all that does is prove how forward-thinking the Neptunes were, especially since this wasn’t exactly the style people digged in 2002, to my knowledge, and it wasn’t exactly an exclusively Timbaland style; Pharrell’s always loved his over-the-top electronics, but it’s kind of an outlier when you compare it to everything else these guys made together. Is that a bad thing? No, not necessarily, Snoop has enough charisma to carry the verses, and I love his comically-strained vocal interpolation of “Contagion” by Ron Isley in the first verse, as well as Pharrell taking the role of Bill Gates in the third, but, man, the synths are overbearing and really get grating by the end of the four minutes. Oh, and that bridge is kind of mind-numbing as well, the back-to-back repetition from Snoop and Pharrell feels like it goes on forever. Sorry, guys, it’s not awful, but this is not the best first impression. Do you know what is, however?

#2 – “Beautiful” – Snoop Dogg featuring Pharrell and Uncle Charlie Wilson

Hot 100 Peak: #6 | Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs Peak: #3

Now, what a classic this song is. This was Snoop’s first top 10 hit since 1994, and won the Neptunes a Grammy for Producer of the Year. It’s a relatively long song at nearly five minutes but it delivers enough throughout the whole runtime to make it not feel like a slog, probably because it was written by the Neptunes, who are fantastic songwriters as well as producers. The single was released on January 21st, 2003, accompanying a video set in Brazil with a dope tribal drum interlude... and,yes, the video is still very beneficial to the song’s success, at least in my eyes. It probably helped it reach the top 10, but the main reason I think it adds to the song (other than the drum solo) is that it features Snoop ogling a young woman. I know what you’re thinking, oh, it’s just a typical rap music video, but the clip and even the chorus, which is beautifully sung by Pharrell and absolute legend Charlie Wilson (whose voice is heavenly), is intentionally misleading. It tricks the listener to think it’s just a song about wanting to do it with some girls in a club or picking up a woman he finds attractive, or whatever, but it’s actually a bit less straightforward, because in the liner notes of the album and single, the song is claimed to be “written in response to Snoop’s love for his daughter”. So, yeah, while people like Rap Critic have bashed on some of the lines for seeming somewhat strange in the context of picking up a girl...

Little cutie, looking like a student

Hurry up and finish so we can watch Clueless (oh!)

...but most of this is legitimately sweet interaction from Snoop with his daughter, although it still doesn’t explain this line.

The girl want to do it, I just might do it / Hit her up with some pimp-pimp fluid

If anything, it just makes it seem worse... wait, no, it makes pretty much EVERYTHING worse.

Little cutie, looking like a student / Long hair with your big fat booty

Mommy, don’t worry, I won’t abuse it

We just blow ‘dro and keep the flow moving

Let’s just ignore the liner notes that imply he has an immorally and illegally close relationship with his weed-smoking daughter that he roofied in the first verse... that R. Kelly credit is starting to make sense. Okay, so if it’s just the hook that’s about his daughter, that’s fine, and hell, even if it’s just about Snoop’s lady, it makes some lines even sweeter.

When I see my baby-boo, sh**, I get foolish / Smack a n**** that tries to pursue it

I smack up the world if they’re rude to you

Hit her up with some pimp-pimp fluid

Okay, so, maybe not that last one but my point is that Snoop’s bars are cute for the most part, which fits the smooth, funky and soulful beat, full of energetic ad-libs from Pharrell and an incredibly catchy tropical guitar-riff and some occasional glimmers of a synth melody. Oh, and don’t get me started on that bridge, because, oh, the bridge is a chorus in itself. Charlie, albeit sounding somewhat compressed, harmonises smoothly with Pharrell until a sweet hand-clap section that fades out into an outro, and, oh, I can’t even describe it in words. Listen to this song, it will make your day. There are a lot of songs about beautiful girls – “Beautiful Girls” by Sean Kingston is mediocre and mentions suicide (just beautiful), “Beautiful” by Bazzi and Camila Cabello is dull and dreary, with some awful performance, while this song? It just works. It pulls it off with little to no effort... yet it’s not even the best song here.

Don’t tell me what I’m not, just because I drops it like it’s hot – Positive K, “Ain’t No Crime”

Now—now—now—now—now, after you back it up, then stop / Then – wha—wha—what? – drop—drop it like it’s hot – Lil Wayne, “Back that Azz Up”

Stick their arm in a car window, drop it like it’s hot – DJ Clark Kent, “Cashmere Thoughts”

Pop, and stop, and drop it like it’s hot – DJ Quik, “Sexuality”

“Drop it like it’s hot” is the gangsta-rap “Hakuna Matata”, and I’m not even sure what that means myself, but who cares? By September 2004, we were heading into the crunk boom and the title of Snoop and Pharrell’s next collaboration had even been uttered in Big Momma’s House, but they made it fresh. This is Billboard’s top rap song of the 2000s, the 350th most popular song of all time, and more importantly, one of the best songs of all time.

#3 – “Drop it Like it’s Hot” – Snoop Dogg featuring Pharrell

Hot 100 Peak: #1 | Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs Peak: #1

Now THIS is the classic I was excited to talk about, Snoop Dogg’s first of three #1s and Pharrell’s second of five. This two-times platinum-certified track was the lead single from the Dogg’s 2004 effort, R&G (Rhythm & Gangsta): The Masterpiece, and ushered in a new wave and attitude to hip-hop production (no wonder people comment “2018 and this still pure fire” with a bunch of emojis, because it fits into the current climate of hip-hop so well). Yep, you can thank the trap you’re listening to right now and the crunk you may have grown up with to the Neptunes’ minimalistic beat which implements only the voice, the keyboards and a drum machine, as well as subtle samples from Laid Back’s synthpop hit “White Horse”. Tongue-clicking makes up most of the slick beat here, with some fun falsetto vocals from Pharrell in the intro where he just repeats “Snoop” twice for optimal effect. Oh, and that keyboard line is iconic, with the hook being as catchy as Snoop ever could write. This song constantly gets in my head even when I really don’t want it do, it’s pretty incredible how with so little, they’ve got so many hooks here: the actual hook, the repetitive drum beat, the “Snooooop” vocals, the keyboard melody, and even the verses, which are full of memorable quips and lines, which I think reach maximum-izzle by the end of the second verse.

I can exercise you, this can be your phys. ed / Cheat on your man, ma, that’s how you get a-hizz-ead – Pharrell

So don’t change the dizzle, turn it up a little / I got a living room full of fine dime-brizzles / Waitin’ on the pizzle, the dizzle and the chizzle / G’s to the bizzack – now, ladies, here we gizzo – Snoop Dogg

I have no idea what these words mean but they sound awesome.

Oh, and there’s more attention to detail than you think there would actually be in this simple brag-rap song, apart from the genius production (that makes sure the “Snoop” vocals go from the left channel to the right channel when wearing headphones, and adds sound effects according to the lyrics like the four extra percussion hits before a ding when Pharrell mentions “four seconds” and the record scratch when Snoop mentions a DJ), with the bars being classic Snoop and surprisingly great (and oddly sexual) from Pharrell. Here are some highlights:

I’m a nice dude, with some nice dreams / See these ice cubes? See these Ice Creams? - Pharrell

He’s picking up a girl and saying “look at my jewellery and shoes”, right? Well, yes, but he’s also mentioning a relatively obscure Cheech & Chong film called Nice Dreams in which they pretend to be ice cream vendors. Do you know what the best thing about this line, though? It’s that it follows this part of the hook:

And I roll the best weed, ‘cause I got it goin’ on – Snoop Dogg

In that film, they sell weed instead of ice cream. Doesn’t everything just fit together so perfectly?

That’s whiter than what’s spilling down your throat – Pharrell

Yeah, sure, it’s about his ice supposedly being as white as his semen, but in the video, the background is completely white, so it’s likely that they were thinking about the video before the song was even written, or the video was inspired by this line. If so, that’s such a nice touch. Hell, I would say Pharrell does better than Snoop if not for this line:

Oh, you got a gun, so you wanna pop back? AK-47, now, n****, stop that! – Snoop Dogg

So effortlessly, without even trying to sound intimidating, I’m scared of Snoop, but that’s not even the intention – it’s more of a comedic talk-down to what they would consider a “fake gangsta”, and even that sounds great in the chill, relaxed flow that they both have, staying calm and collected like their wordplay is nothing. I could write a full-length review on this bonafide classic banger of a hip-hop song, and really one of the best out there, proving Pharrell and Snoop to be some of the best to ever do it... oh, and there’s punchlines that only work in text form, which is bloody hilarious.

The big bo$$ Dogg, yeah, I had to do that

And that’s the end to the first part of Every Snoop Dogg and Pharrell Hit Song Reviewed. Hopefully the second part will be coming next week, with REVIEWING THE CHARTS tomorrow. Thank you for reading and see ya!

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junker-town · 6 years

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Trash Or Nawl: The 10 trash albums of the year

Welcome to Trash Or Nawl, a weekly column to help you weed through the Internet Muck. To do that, I’ll be breaking it down to a helpful binary: Is something trash? Or nawl? Topics here will involve sports and whatever else the hell I say is sports or sports adjacent. I’ll do my best to make sense of what's going on each week, but the thing to remember is no matter what I say, most of these things are still trash.

You might say this is simplistic, and hell yeah it is. This is how I make sense of the chaos. Professional grade hating restores power to my powerless stupid fan hands. I give a middle finger because I've given up clapping.

Trash or Nawl criteria: We will pick a topic. We will breakdown why or why it isn't trash. You can agree, you can comment or tweet your disagreements. Or we can fight. Really, it's up to you.

Good morning, hopefully y’all are hungover too. Today on a special edition of Trash Or Nawl, I’m finna discuss why y’all decided to make and praise these garbage ass albums. A lot of the blogs kept saying these tapes were fire, so we found out. Please enjoy this rare moment of where I put my Diddy hat and matching fur on.

“The inability to tell the difference between good pop and trash pop is the sign of a music philistine.” — My editor, Nate Scott.

With that in mind, I’m bout to fry tf outta all of the music Nate likes. [Editor’s Note: I don’t even like two-thirds of these albums and I’m not sure why I’m allowing this article to run, but whatever. Happy Holidays everyone.]

Lorde — Melodrama

I’m so muhfuckin tired of you internet people tellin me that Lorde, who basically only makes music that belongs on FIFA video game soundtracks, is making good music. This is some bullshit. Last night, I thought I was bangin out some whiskeys and was ready to party and tried out this wannabe Avatar background music. Woke up in a daze, night ruined.

And don’t you give me that “you a hating ass asshole I love Lorde” bullshit. I was gettin busy when “Royals” came out just like you were. And then whatever the hell “Green Light” is came on and ruined it. Lorde gon’ stop whisper singin’ on these tracks.

[Editor’s Note: This is one of the albums on this list that is objectively Good, and you need to understand that Tyler is just doing this to get a rise out of me and you.]

Also idk who told Lorde that this pop art album cover was litty, because this some diet Pablo Picasso ass shit. Ain’t fuckin wit it.

Haim — Something To Tell You

What the actual fuck is this? Most of these artists also just sound the same: like some weird version of whatever ‘80s movies made for white people were. Like, this easily coulda been the opening music for Pretty Woman. “Want You Back” doesn’t even make sense to me. Do you have a fear of forgiveness? Are you too proud? Are you blaming yourself?

We gotta stop telling our kids in grade school they can do anything they set their minds to because then we get shit like this. Seriously tho. I’m tired of the re-incarnation of Hall & Oates making pop music. I listened to “Founded It in Silence” five times by accident before I realized it was playing and not just my heater making noise.

Feist — Pleasure

Before “Pleasure” finally came on, I thought I got an album that didn’t have any music on it. Then when the song started and I spent the next minute not knowing what was actually said. The guitar was dope tho. Can’t hate on that. That fuckin guitar was dope as hell. But if I actually hear the word “pleasure” anymore in the way I have on this album that makes me think I’m in a Brooklyn dive bar with some round glasses ass hipsters wit they stupid turtle faces, I’m finna fight someone.

This album makes me feel like I’ve taken a lot of acid. I’ve never even had acid. Someone send me acid so I can know how I’m supposed to feel for listening to this album. [Editor’s Note: Please do not do this.] But, still. Can’t lie. This guitar is real real dope. Especially on “I Wish I Didn’t Miss You” but that ain’t gonna cut it, fam.

Charly Bliss — Guppy

I can fucks with a lil bit of some good rock music. But this fake ass Paramount [Editor’s Note: I think he meant Paramore but it’s a lot funnier as Paramount so I’m leaving it] sounding ass band wasn’t poppin. The drums was litty tho. New Indie Rock loves to do this thing where it remakes music that was born in the 80s but also the 90s now too. I felt like this coulda been played in Bring It On when Kirsten Dunst was hype because some bro made her a mixtape with his I’m Really Doing Something In Life struggle stubble. Also: Go Clovers.

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Guppy wasn’t as bad as Lorde and Haim and Feist, but I just felt like someone was crying to me for 30 minutes. It also isn’t Future, Kendrick, SZA, John Legend, Migos, Badu or anything resembling it. Shit. This ain’t eem Plain White T’s “Hey There Delilah” level litty. [Editor’s Note: (Long, sustained sigh)] This ain’t making me pick up a guitar. Yeen head noddin to this. I can’t keep lettin y’all whine on a track and say you waxin poetic. I fuckin refuse. Empire wouldn’t even play this on they show.

Jason Isbell — The Nashville Sound

This is purely here because in a world where we’ve decided we ain’t fuckin with blatant white supremacy and nationalism (lol, this won’t last), I am triggered by a song titled “The Last Of My Kind.” Also, Isbell getting mad because folks laughed at him in college as a justification for this song is highkey highkey highkey the same reason people comment on Breitbart.

Photo by Rick Diamond/Getty Images for Country Music Hall Of Fame & Museum

He also made a song called “White Man’s World,” which, lol, y’all never really need to keep asking why folks don’t listen to country if this what y’all keep giving us. #WokeSZN #Resist #DumpTrump

[Editor’s Note: All the sportswriters of the world who are obsessed with this dude, please know that I had nothing to do with this section. Jason Isbell is great. Jason Isbell is the best. The Beatles? Beethoven? Fuck em. There is no one better than Jason Isbell, except maybe Bruce Springsteen, who I think you all also love for whatever reason. Please, for the love of god, don’t yell at me on Twitter.]

Margo Price — All American Made

A lot of you On The Internet Money Makin Whites love Margo Price. So because of that (and because OG Willie Nelson was making an appearance) I turned this on expecting non-pretentious and pompous ass country bangers I am accustomed to. Y’all told me this. Y’all told me she was the shit.

Welp.

Somebody call Deputy Raylan Givens and whip up that good wild west bullshit because Margo sound like the soundtrack to Justified. Margo dropped some bars that say “a little pain never hurt anyone” which is a whole lie because I promise you I was reeling from this weak shit.

OG Willie was dope tho. Don’t worry about that.

Taylor Swift — Reputation

Y’all knew this was gone be here.

First of all: IF CARDI B WASHED YO MIDDLE OF PENNSYLVANIA ASS ON THE CHARTS THEN YOU SHOULDA KNOWN WE FINNA GET THAT ASS UP OUTTA HERE BOI.

**re-adjusts collar**

I’m sad Future had to be dragged onto this album, but I know he owe Rocko a few Brinks trucks so I understand. I don’t know what Taylor keeps doing with these albums, tho. She’s always gonna get a few body rolls from me just because Future was featured here on some childish ass beats. But, y’all can’t expect me to think it’s pawpin for Tay Tay in the year of our lord 2017.

Photo by Dia Dipasupil/Getty Images

The New York Times, however, wants you to know this was super hot fire. Smh.

Katy Perry — Witness

Listen dog. I used to get it EXTREMELY LIT at high school mixers to some Katy Perry. Ain’t nobody gonna ever tell me Katy Perry wasn’t the white T-Pain at one point in my life. Left Shark is the hero this world needed at a time we didn’t know it. But the song “Swish Swish” which includes a line saying “Swish Swish Bish” featuring Nicki Minaj is one of the worst things created in a year full of some of the worst things ever.

The thing I didn’t expect: Nicki Minaj was actually the second-best thing about as much of this album as I was able to tolerate. Quavo yelling “KATY PERRY,” harmonizing with her in autotune, rapping many random “ayes,” yelling his own name, and randomly saying “Bon Appetit” on “Bon Appetit” is the best thing. [Editor’s Note: This is actually correct.] I need you to notice, the good things here have nothing to do with the person who made the music. If Space Jam and an elevator had a child and it grew to become a singer, it would make this album.

Macklemore — Gemini

Skylar Grey SANG her ass owf on this tape for “Glorious.” But Macklemore following up her vocals with “I’m feelin glorious, the crib lookin Victorian, you know we been goin in, since we hopped out that Dolorean, I’m gone, things are just things, they don’t make you who you are, can’t pack up a UHaul and take it wit you when you gone, we posted on the porch my family glasses to the stars, my grandma smiling down on me like OUU THAT BOY GOT BARS” is the most sickening thing I’ve ever had to take part in.

I don’t know if I’m more mad that another Macklemore album came out or the people who keep letting Macklemore let another Macklemore album come out. The sad part is: Macklemore actually gets some really fire ass beats. But we keep getting some fake ass Eminem verses because nobody gonna tell Macklemore either 1) he can’t rap that well or 2) he can’t rap that well about happy go lucky shit all the time.

Photo by Andreas Rentz/Getty Images

Mack also steps on Kesha’s angelic vocals on “Good Old Days,” Yachty’s assumed piano playing in “Marmalade,” and Offset’s ad-libs on “Willy Wonka,” which is just unconscionable. Also every single song on this tape except “Ten Million” had a feature. He reverse J. Cole’d himself. What world are we living in.

DJ Khaled & Friends — Grateful

I’m mad at Khaled for several reasons:

I followed him on Snapchat in anticipation to this album

His bit is lowkey tiresome at this point

Asahd is the most handsome baby in the world, which brings envy from my being

The album has 23 songs and is an hour-and-a-half long

The album was no where near any other Khaled bangers out

Khaled hyped this shit up for no good damn reason

That being said, this Khaled tape is probably the best worst tape of the year. “Shining” with Beyonce and her lil’friend is a fun song, and Qween has never made bad music. You’re welcome, Shea Moisture Twitter. “Wild Thoughts” still got me thinking about Havana fwiw even tho Bryson Tiller is the corniest dude alive next to Big Sean. “I’m The One” had me trine buy Bieber Merch and loudly singing said song at many functions. “I Love You So Much” was some cute Disney shit. “On Everything” had me jumpin on people’s couches.

But literally the other 80 percent of the tape is hot ass garbage. Which is super disappointing because a dude with the most Jordans in the world, prettiest baby alive, 18 mansions, superstar friends, and a call log that would envy the Lord hisself should be able to do marginally better than this.

Most times I think Khaled’s music is only good as an audio soporific. Sometimes that’s okay. Not this time. I’ve been deceived. To make up for this: Khaled plz send me some sneakers, Bellaire Rose and Jordan sweatsuits and all will be forgotten. [Editor’s Note: Khaled, don’t do thi... Actually, you know what? Khaled, do this. And throw in a sweatsuit for me.]

We’re good, Khaled. Because at the end of the day: You still better than Lorde.

If you disagree with these verdicts, comment below. As stated earlier, you can agree, comment, tweet through your frustration or fight. Really, it’s up to you.

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