#its also been almost 3 full years (what the actual fuck) since i first played dai so the feeling is understandable
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feel like pure shit just want her back x
#dragon age#inquisitor trevelyan#dorian pavus#pavelyan#oh wait right#the iron bull#is also there lol#i feel a strong need to replay inquisition but also i would rather do anything else. really i just miss my inquisitor#its also been almost 3 full years (what the actual fuck) since i first played dai so the feeling is understandable#winter 2020 i literally spent almost all day every day playing dai. it was certainly a time in my life#art stuff
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All That Glitters is Not Feminism - An Analysis of LO's Brand of "Feminism" and What Remains of its Fanbase (A Prologue)
So I referenced a certain article in a recent reblog/ask response and I just need to talk about it because what the actual fuck-
This has to have been written by either a bot or a hater who's reached peak god tier level at playing the long con sarcasm game because NOTHING about this feels sincere or even factual. Much of it almost has to be read in a mocking tone for it to make any real sense.
It says "Lore Olympus" (literally in quotations) in just about every single paragraph over and over again and every single talking point revolves EXCLUSIVELY around Persephone, which I suppose comes as no surprise considering that seems to be all the comic - and its fanbase - cares about at this point.
I really love (/s) how Persephone's "evolution" is being naive and then 'blossoming' into an independent woman who relies entirely on the rich man who groomed her to solve all her problems.
Also all she's done since becoming Queen of the Underworld is abuse lower class people. That's the stuff feminist dreams are made of <3
While we're talking about the main leads, "poster child" is definitely a word for Hades, I think a more appropriate term would be "literal child". And boy howdy, 'god of consent' sure is a title to give the guy who ripped out a lower class satyr's eyeball and beat him half to death.
This man owns slaves, btw. And both he and his "powerful wife" are equally horrible to lower class people, especially women.
This is hands-down the funniest section of the article and we're only three bullet points in.
Thetis and Persephone have never even so much as spoken one word to each other outside of the courtroom that Thetis technically put her in after plotting against her for an entire season.
Eros is a man. Nothing wrong with that but it comes with the unintentional icky hilarity of implying that because Eros is the gay best friend, that means he's a woman.
They literally don't read this fucking comic-
Everyone always relies on this weird talking point of Demeter not being able to "let Persephone go"... y'all, she just didn't want Persephone to outright move to Olympus, she wanted her to commute. That was it! That was literally the only problem! She wasn't preventing Persephone from pursuing a higher education or telling her she wasn't allowed to work, she literally fucking encouraged it! And with the added later context of Persephone killing a bunch of mortals - and, ironically, the fact that Persephone was assaulted/put in harm's way by TWO SEPARATE MEN in the first two days of her time in Olympus - yeah, I don't blame Demeter for not wanting her daughter to move cold turkey actually LOL
Also hilarious that they claim Rachel has turned "tradition" into "innovation" when the only thing she's managed to do is set back modern feminism in her young adult readers by 80 years and re-establish misogynist brainwashing in her adult ones. Rachel, your fanbase was literally shipping a victim of abuse with her abuser just a few days ago.
oh boy this is uh
this is some cult shit ngl
and the "rewriting the script of Greek mythology" part is VERY concerning knowing what we know about Lore Olympus and who it was written by. This is literally cultural appropriation, full stop, and it exists because Lore Olympus - and works like it, made by people like Rachel - exists.
I can't even commit to the original theory that this was written by a bot because it all feels very pointed and intenetional. This is being written by someone who, at the very least, REALLY sucks at media analysis and writing, because the entire article is just "Lore Olympus, buzzword, Lore Olympus, buzzword, buzzword, Lore Olympus", it's like a white knight incantation for guilty virtue signallers who have zero clue what they're talking about. And at worst, yes, it's appropriation from someone who doesn't mind taking a culture's stories and myths and promoting their erasure by people outside of the culture like Rachel.
And that's it, that's literally the article lmao
*EDIT: There was a section here before addressing the writer of the article from a very opinionated POV that, while isn't unusual for what I do here, did feel necessary to remove after I was contacted by the article writer who addressed the flaws in their original article and is now seeking to correct them with revisions/an article rewrite. So I felt it only fair as a compromise to at least remove that section as it really doesn't have a whole lot to do with this post as a whole and can be removed without entirely ruining the flow of this analysis. If/when that article is rewritten, I'll be revisiting this post and my overall analysis !
And honestly, it's all really telling, because this does accurately reflect the state of the LO fanbase.
Not only do many of the people who defend this comic like it's their job not pick up on the blatant misogynist tones that are going on in its narrative (I can't even call them "undertones" anymore, they're no longer that subtle) but whether or not they even read the comic at all is up for debate with how much stuff they tend to get wrong in their own arguments and justifications. And this is something that's VERY regularly seen in the fanbase discussions, readers will constantly be unaware of things that happened because they skimmed through it at lightning speed just to see if Hades and Persephone kiss and so they can get the top comment on Webtoons so they can be "ahead of the fanbase". It's no wonder that Rachel has gotten used to getting away with retconning things because her fanbase didn't even read what she established the first time.
Rachel's fanbase was literally defending the romance ship of an abuser and his victim on the newest FP episode preview. When that FP episode came out two nights ago and Hera said, point blank, that he didn't love her but abused her, I could only think of that portion of the fanbase who was very audibly simping over Kronos in the IG comment section. Are they actually having their moment of shameful clarity now? Or are they just gonna move the goalposts and pretend that didn't happen?
I don't want to say anything bad about Shelby here because she really seems like she's fighting for her life on this site that she's trying to get off the ground, but a lot of her other articles also come across as very one-note while being peppered with buzzwords that make it seem like what she's talking about is "progressive" when it really isn't. Case in point, Lessons in Chemistry has been commonly criticized for not actually appealing to the demographic that its Mary Sue-ish main character is supposed to represent - women in STEM career fields.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Lore Olympus is not 'feminism', it's white feminism that is designed to appeal to predominantly heterocis white women who think the solution to misogyny is to willingly submit to it and accept the status quo - that it's "empowering" if the woman is smiling and having all her needs paid for by a man. Sure, I can accept that different women will be looking for different relationship dynamics, some women genuinely are happy being in a relationship where they support their husbands first and foremost. But can that truly be called feminism? Or is the real feminism the choices we make along the way that we should be given the freedom to make?
It says a lot about the folks who tend to regularly prop up LO on a pedestal like this as some "revolution in feminism" despite the contrary after spending more than just 30 seconds skimming the attention-grabbing art, and Shelby is just one of many. She's not the worst of the bunch, though.
That goes to someone else who I want to give proper light to in their own essay. Someone who definitely earned a good stern talking-to this past week and has, thankfully, had consequences dished out to her for her horrible actions towards queer POC writers.
If you know, you know. If you don't, buckle up.
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t00nyah explaining project moon without actually explaining project moon
after posting lcb trigger warning i wanted to do this
or
me explaining project moon in the shortest way possible except its goofy af bc im eepy and lazy but im in a desperately talkative mood (i post mostly about limbus company since it came out cmon)
what the fuck is projmoon:
project moon is the coolest ever indie game development team we love them; they've made three games so far, also have an unfinished novel, a...idk, just another novel that was initially a comic but im a hater (im sorry(not)), and another comic
they've been doing it for like 7 years almost and still have no idea what optimization is but its okay we love them
there's a lot of killing and just amoral guys in general who can and will kill thousands. its THE 'your meow meow killed thousands of people' 'and they looked good doing it!' universe. everyone is fucked up there guys. but UMMM thats kinda the appeal
so the games! we all here are gamerzzz!
LC
it all started 6 years ago, when lobotomy corporation released in early access and my gf was like hey look what i found
lobotomy corp is a game where you're a manager in a big company, L corp, and you have to get your guys, employees(lucky ones who got the job) to work with abnormalities(fucked up creatures) so they would generate enkephalin, a big energy resource
except your guys will probably die when you're already so attached to them so you just restart the day each time this happens
theres like a maaassive plot, it is the beginning of literally everything, like some stuff still haunts us in limbus company (looking at a particular individual) and there are more characters that you'll fucking love(sephirahs) and then learn their fucked up story (and then learn your fucked up story and not be happy about it)
ah yes while im on it theres no actual self incert in project moon games im sorry but every character IS a character
gameplay-wise you just have to organize your guys, give them equipment, assign them to a job, make them suffer and struggle to suppress abnormalities if they try to make a mess(kill everyone) and do hard tasks your besties make you do
LoR
later, in like 2018 i think, they almost immediately after full release of LC announced a sequel, library of ruina
library of ruina is a game that continues the story(duh) and i can't tell you much about it without spoiling lob corp too, but in this one you have to USE BRAIN like A LOT because its a STRATEGY CARD GAME
in this one you dont even have a character you play as, you just follow the characters' on their journey. but dw! you'll get your own customizable guys to adore here too!
basically in this game the characters from LC and your guys are called librarians and you have to greet guests of the library, that were specifically invited there and /tp-ed, basically fighting them. every battle has its own story and eventually it branches off into four arcs and oh gott i love library of ruina a'right you meet characters for like one story and then have to fight them knowing their issues and how life fucked them over enough to get there</3
gameplay-wise you build cool decks from cards of those you've killed for your guys, pick guys for fight and then pick cards. simple. i think. not so simple in game but i simplified it
there's also a lot of amazing lore drops, bc in LC we were kinda isolated and focused on the corporation, but in LoR? we get to see all kinda of people of The City, we learn about The City, we learn about factions and all, we get all the lore we missed by being stuck in that manager chair
LCB
okay and now we're here. limbus my fucking company.
limbus company was, again, announced almost immediately after LoR's full release(PM are CRAZY), and released february 27 of this year, and already has more story in word count than lor does or so i've heard...
limbus company is pm's first mobile game(but dw there is a steam release if you're more of a pc person or your phone will explode if you try to install it(and it will)) and their first...(behold) gacha game. yep. but no dont get scared it actually has the best gacha system ever known to men
they've also tried to make it enjoyable without getting into previous games but to me it doesnt feel right i dunno i feel like it's just not that cool without knowing the context and going insane screaming at carmen or connecting the dots, also like the events of LCB are all connected to LC and LoR, so ummm if you try to get into limbus without at least learning what the other games contain be ready i'll personally explode you
in this game you basically play as dante(they/them for the sake of mysteriousness of 'who TF they are') and you have 12 deranged guys named the sinners who are ALL BASED OFF FUCKING CLASSIC LITERATURE did you fucking know pm are fucking literacy nerds and cant have a game without book references without exploding??? well they are.
so the characters (IN CASE YOU'RE INTERESTED) are:
1. gregor (metamorphosis, franz kafka)
2. rodion (crime and punishment, fyodor dostoyevsky)
3. (emil) sinclair (demian, hermann hesse)
4. yi sang (the wings, yi sang (kim hae-gyeong))
5. ishmael (moby dick, herman melville)
6. heathcliff (wuthering heights, emily bronte)
7. don quixote (don quixote, miguel de cervantes)
8. hong lu (dream of the red chamber, cao xueqin)
9. ryoshu (hell screen, ryunosuke akutagawa)
10. meursault (the stranger, albert camus)
11. outis (the odyssey, homer)
12. faust (faust, johann wolfgang von goethe)
also don't forget dante is based on the divine comedy by dante alighieri!
also dante DOESNT FUCKING KNOW SHIT. faust seems to know all shit and never tell dante.
i mentioned it being a gacha game. so like. you dont pull characters. instead you pull the initial deranged guys' alternative versions where they end up on another job like cult leader or a terrorist idk
the best part? you dont necessarily have to get them from gacha in most cases, you can get special currency, ego shards, to get whatever you want separately. also pm added ideality that you get from unfortunate pulls that you can spend on the special identity from the banner. but tbh i think its way easier to get the shards needed than pull that much, not really worth it
gameplay-wise? well. you have to basically just choose your guys' identities(those alt versions, they use them in fights to be stronger), choose their skills, a little similar to ruina (except TBH lcb lets you fuck around and put it on auto until it doesnt really work out (please dont autoplay with r corp ishmael or at least check what they're doing you silly goop they might do friendly fire if you're stupid enough)). the game consists of cantos, chapters that tell you a separate story of a sinner(in the order i gave earlier, not everyone knows that), that have story-episodes(cool ones), story-and-fight-then-episodes(epic ones), and sometimes just-fight-episodes(who the fuck thought those are a good idea?). and in the end of a canto there's always a dungeon. honestly, first two cantos are easy enough to just learn basics yourself, im rambling at this point
there's also hellish grind options and paid stuff like battle pass with the coolest perks ever
also LoR and LCB have mili songs, which is fucking cool, they're such bangers. no no projmoon games' ost in general. just fuckign bangers my guys and i mean it.
well that was fun and games. like i mentioned theres also:
Distortion Detective
im such a fucking fan of this unfinished novel, im so upset they abandoned it </3 pm did say they're probably going to rework it as a game or smth later but in my opinion it just loses its charm if its not a novel
distortion detective ... i cant explain it without spoilers to the games but its basically about moses, the distortion detective, who solves distortions which are like uhhmmm... people turning into some funky shit(that expresses their feelings). and she has a parthner named ezra. they're both poor traumatized women. and stuff happens. thats all i can say without spoiling everything. you learn a lot about the distortion phenomenon from moses' perspective.
WonderLab
wonderlab is a comic made by artist mimi, that follows taii, rose and catt. its about another lobotomy corp branch that actually introduces us to the concept of abnormality aberrations (slightly similar but different abnormalities like we have a little red riding hooded mercenary's(do you remember me mentioning pm being literacy nerds?) team fortress blue team version or whatever) that is used in limbus quite a lot so we old people from LC can be like 'heehehehe this is like like snow white's apple's aberration, so funny, reminds me of good ol' days...'
Leviathan
my main enemy. initially it was a comic, but i think they had to stop working with the artist for some reason and continue it as a novel instead.
issue?
i didnt read it. im so sorry i failed you. but i cant. first vergilius, main character, is ugly AS FUCK and he's STUPID i hate his guts. BUT OH DEAR LORD HE APPEARS IN LIMBUS COMPANY AND I HATE HIM EVEN MORE. AND NOT JUST APPEARS, HE'S THE GUIDE OF THE BUS, HE'S KINDA ALWAYS THERE. I HATE HIS GUTS. oh hey lap-- charon, no, you're good, you're amazing, vroom-vroom, yes, right, you're so right.
i'm pretty sure it has A LOT of important context for some stuff in LCB but i just CAN'T MAKE MYSELF TOUCH IT. please read leviathan for me.
i'm sorry it turned into a looong ramble but here's t00nyah's awful brief guide to project moon. in case you want to know about world-building or the story in particular...i'm always here to dm me. please do. i really love telling people about project moon. there's just a lot to unpack.
edit. okay apparently it was easy to misinterpret my leviathan commentary so im putting this here for the sake of clearing the confusions for future!! tl;dr: i know it wasn't continued as a comic for REASONS, it's OBVIOUS!! and yes, leviathan is important, i just can't make myself read it therefore don't have enough knowledge to write about it(cool idea: write your own post about leviathan if you're seeing this and are enthusiastic about it! i just won't.), i still don't like vergilius, it's just a me-thing. DO read leviathan if you're interested</3
edit2. after thinking for a while, decided to add this just in case: i was given a summary of leviathan! well. it IS something. (opinion on vergilius hasn't changed much sorry not sorry, still a me-thing.) but yeah 👍 all good 👍 still not liking it much, mayhaps because i couldn't read it myself, but. it can be found here in the comment section.
#project moon#lobotomy corporation#library of ruina#limbus company#distortion detective#wonderlab#not taggin leviathan pm people are gonna fucking tear me apart for the slander
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Theories for Episodes 4 & 5
If you haven't watched the first 3 episodes, beware! Spoilers up ahead!
Ok, so Blackbeard tried to murder literally everyone on the revenge. There is not a single person person aboard that would be cool with him just hanging about (with the exception of Stede ofc). My thinking is that for episode 4:
-the crew will be begging Stede to maroon Ed, or just leave him at their next stop, Stede's gonna be all, 'i can change him, we can make this work'
-the Bell comes into play here because Ed is alive and terrifying and his presence must be known at all times. When he is near, everyone flinches, Fang nearly cries and that sets everyone off.
-Ed isn't going to want to stay aboard the revenge anymore. He would be happy to leave especially with Stede being so close by, it's just a stab wound to the heart everytime they're near, which brings me to my next point
-We all know the reunion is gonna be awkward as hell and Stede's heart is gonna fucking shatter, because yeah they love each other and yeah, Stede literally brought Ed back from the purgatory, but as if Ed's gonna just be straight up with him about it. Nah, he's gonna downplay it all and they are gonna pine for each other and it's gonna drive EVERYONE INSANE
-Just imagine it, the pining, Stede and Ed wistfully glancing at one another from across the ship, Ed turns away, Stede looks down all sad, Ed looks back at him, you can hear the swell of their hearts, its gonna be ridiculous, it'll be very akin to the "Ohmygod this is happening"
-Auxiliary Wardrobe reveal!!! Since only Ed and Stede know of it's existence, I am willing to bet that they spend some time talking in there but what is the state of the room? Is it pristine, untouched and unsoiled? Is it Ed's personal crying hole? Has he been sleeping in there, running his fingers across silks and throwing stuff around in fits of anger? I'm not too sure, but it'd be sweet if it's almost as Stede left it. Ed already destroyed so much of Stede's but this was something he also loved.
-Mary and Anne!!! The crew of the revenge decide to port and lo and behold, Ed knows where to go and finds his old friends! I have a feeling that after that whole awkward dinner double date, Ed will finally tell Stede that he isn't coming back aboard the revenge. That he doesn't want them to be like Anne and Mary just doing crazy shit to make their romance interesting. They'll see the red flags in their own relationship and well
-Ed leaves...
Something interesting that I noticed upon my rewatch of the teaser for episodes 4 & 5 is that when Stede is talking to Izzy and is basically asking him to teach him all that he knows, Stede says, "Blackbeard did say you taught him everything you know" Blackbeard??? Why isn't he calling him 'Edward'??? Just an interesting lil detail.
-the curse episode is gonna be goofy as hell and a much needed palate cleanser after all the angsty shit we've witnessed.
-another lil detail from the teaser, Stede has made they captain's cabin his again! He's getting dressed up, he has fixed the furniture or gotten new stuff, and it's very telling to me that Ed is gone . Izzy is even sitting in the cabin, entertaining Stede's antics .
-So, Izzy will become (somewhat) loyal to stede. After all, he saved their lives,didn't take out his anger upon them even after they admitted to killing Ed. No, Stede is flourishing as a captain and Izzy sees the potential to serve under Stede, and now that Ed's gone what else really is he to do?
-Izzy and Stede become (somewhat) besties!!! They train together, probably mourn the love of Ed together too. The crew grows back together and it's fun times again! But Stede still misses Ed deeply..
OMG actually what if they do indeed 'break up' so when we see Stede back at Spanish Jackie's, he's gone full 20-something-year-old, and is all 'Yeah, see this Ed? I'm having a great time without you! I don't feel even a sliver of sadness since we broke up, I'm gonna get absolutely trashed, I don't miss you at all-'
I'm gonna scream into the next year if that happens.
Anywho, these are just my predictions! Literally had to write 'em down because we still have 3 more days until we get our next episodes and I'm losing my mind!
Tell me what you guys think!
#our flag means death#ofmd season 2#ofmd season 2 spoilers#our flag means death spoilers#ofmd s2#ofmd spoilers#ofmd
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alright lets talk ttrpg goals for 2023! this post is about games im writing that i want to finish this year, ill make another one for games i want to play in 2023.
i have. so many half finished games. in fact i even have several games that are written!! they just need to be laid out and put out there. so heres the goals and the order for said goals
1- Record Collection 2K23, and the yet-unnamed game for it that ive been writing up over the past few weeks. part tarot-driven game, part... play? there’s stage directions in there in any case
its based off the four wind albums by the Oh Hellos, later on the two characters in the play only talk to eachother via lyrics from each album, moving through the seasons as they move through their story.
ofc i want to finish this one during the jam, which means by the end of january. very much pushing myself to just Get It Out There and not worry so much about it being exactly what i want, because i can always come back and update it later. its horribly (affectionate) self indulgent already so to b clear i am writing this game for Me, so the only person who needs to like it at any point is Me :3
2- There Is An Anger Inside Of You. ive been noodling at this game for over a year now, with the creation date on the word doc being may of 2021. its done!!! its finished, i swear to god, i just need to lay it out, and i already know how im going to do that i just need to *grabs myself by the shoulders* fucking do it
its a game about being angry when youre not able to express it, the struggle of keeping your anger under wraps being played out as a rather unfair game of chess. and i am going to get it out by the end of february.
3- The Lady, The Tiger, and The Accused, a hack of For The Queen based on the short story The Lady or The Tiger. its another one that is currently completely written out, but rather than laying it out and getting it out there my goal with this one is to get it formatted for playtesting. its a three player game, players taking on the role of either The Lady, The Tiger, or The Accused, and answering the prompts as such. i really love it, but it needs to be played by people and revised before ill feel comfortable declaring it finished.
also, i want to actually crowdfund and print this one, with art and editing and maybe some pretty extras and such. so my goal is to start playtesting it by my birthday, the 17th of march. after that... im not sure! crowdfunding it by the end of the year would be wild i think, since, in true For The Queen style, id love to get a gaggle of artists to draw Princess cards for it, and that takes time! so the goal is more to have it ready for crowdfunding by the end of this year, and if that happens sooner then thats cool and good!
4- Someones Simple Book of Spells Volume One: Paper. This one is also FULLY WRITTEN *sounds of agony in the distance* i just need to LAY IT OUT
and honestly since i already know how i want to lay it out lets put this one for the end of april. yes this is pretty much a game a month for the next bit but theyre all SO CLOSEEEE to being done anyways its just that final push, i could accomplish most of these goals in a weekend if i just did it so. im going to!! do it!!!
5- ok finally, one thats actually not almost finished, its The Center of the Known Universe. a small anthology of games originally started for the weird west jam but never finished.
its got some of my favorite concepts ive ever thought of though, a game about aliens freezing time in a small western town and LARPing as cowboys, two wild west wizards battling it out at high noon, a game about supernatural cowboys falling in love while experiencing all the seasons of the desert, and more. its a love letter to the small desert town i currently live in, and i want to see it come into being. im going to give myself the summer for this, lets say the goal is to have the full first draft written by september. i also would love for this one to go into print, so a secondary goal is to have it ready to crowdfund in time for ZineMonth 2024, so february of next year.
i think thats probably all the projects i can set goals for this year, october-december is always very busy for me so im not gonna set anything besides the two i want to get ready for crowdfunding in 2024, though i do have several other half written games lying about (looks nervously at my over-4000 word “ttrpg ideas” doc).
maybe ill get into the swing of actually finishing games and get to them as well! but if not thats just fine :3
you can always find all my games over on the Grey Jay Games itch.io page, and i may make a sideblog just for GJG, but for the moment all game news and stuff from me will be right here @resident-corvid
#corvid caws#indie ttrpgs#also who knows#trying to crowdfund two things in 2024 might be a wild thing to try and do#cause running crowdfunding projects is Hard#but at the least id like to have those two ready so i could potentially crowdfund both in 2024#and at the very very least the overall goal is to just SLAP SOME STUFF UP ON ITCH#number one goal above all else#GET IT THE FUCK UP THERE#njsdkbhjbgd#its going to be great#im excited
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Winter 2021 Anime Worth Watching!
Since 2020 basically sacrificed itself to give us the most stacked anime season of all time, I’m currently buried under the weight of almost 20 shows airing per week. So for anyone who’s looking for some anime to watch this winter, here’s some first impressions! I’m speed running my list this time by only talking about the new shows...because otherwise this would be my great American novel.
If anyone’s interested, I have master lists for both 2020 anime and 2019 anime, because there’s no shortage of fun things to find.
New Shows!
And before anyone asks, So I’m A Spider, So What? isn’t on here, because CG spiders freak me out.
Cells At Work Code Black: This...less comedic spin off of Cells At Work (made by a different studio) takes the wholesome concept of Osmosis Jones meets cute anime girls and turns it on its head. In this much more depressing version, we follow a rookie red blood cell who works in the body of an overly stressed, alcoholic smoker who puts every strain on the body imaginable. I love Red Blood Cell AA2153 and his co-workers, but man am I glad we get the regular Cells At Work airing this season too, because I need something fun and uplifting after seeing my sweet son go through hell every episode.
*Heaven’s Design Team: Have you ever wondered how God came up with some of the weird ass animals that live on this planet? Like, what’s the deal with giraffes? And why can’t we have dragons and flying horses? Well this is a comedy about the engineers and designers in heaven creating the new animals that are going to inhabit the Earth. That’s it, that’s the show. It’s kind of in the same vein as Cells At Work, having comedy blend with a surprising amount of educational information. If you want something light and funny, this is the show for you (though I don’t think it needs to have full length episodes). I’m just hoping there’s an episode about how the hell the platypus was created. Also it’s the only new one available on Crunchyroll.
Horimiya: A romantic comedy about a girl named Hori who fits the image of a perfect queen bee and a quiet bespectacled boy named Miyamura who never makes an impression at school. When the two meet by chance outside of the classroom, we see that Hori is practically raising a younger brother by herself, and Miyamura is actually a sweet guy who happens to be covered in tattoos and piercings. This show is an exercise in breaking down the images people have of others in their minds, and it’s a concept that really hits home in a fun and meaningful way. Honestly, this has become one of my immediate favorites. The characters have great chemistry, and I can’t wait to see more of them!
Monster Incidents (Kemono Jihen): When big shot Tokyo detective Inugami is called to a rural town to investigate a series of strange animal deaths, he finds a mysterious boy with the nickname Dorotabo who has been shunned by the other children in town. As the detective gets closer to Dorotabo, he discovers that there may be more...inhuman secrets to the boy than he realizes...and Dorotabo discovers that Inugami has some secrets of his own. This is a hard show to sell without spoiling the first episode, but it had twists and turns that kept me engaged from start to finish. I’m really interested to see where the plot goes, because I thought this was going to be something totally different just from the PV and series summary. If it plays its cards right, this could be a great paranormal detective show!
Wonder Egg Priority: A psychological drama about a girl named Ai who starts having dreams about a mysterious egg that promises to give her what she wants most in the world...a true friend. Before long, she begins to see how the dream world and reality are tied together, and trippy antics ensue. It’s hard to say more without spoiling anything, but I had to go back and add this one in because I made the mistake of thinking it was an OVA when it’s actually a full series. And what a series it’s starting out to be. This anime has all the psychological discomfort of a Satoshi Kon product with the beauty and style of something from Kyoani (even though it’s made by Clover Works). It’s really one of those anime you just have to see to understand.
Sk8-∞ (Skate the infinity): An original skateboarding anime from Bones, featuring a typical sports anime protagonist who takes a new transfer student who has never skateboarded in his life under his wing. Together they compete in dangerous races and take the skating community by storm. The character designs rival Appare Ranman’s in outlandish creativity, and I can smell the main characters’ ship dynamic a mile away (considering they’re exactly the same as the protagonists from Robihachi). If you’re looking for some wild and crazy fun with top notch skateboarding animation, don’t skip this!
2.43: Seiin Koukou Danshi Volley-bu (Seiin High School Boys Volleyball Club): Yes, it’s another volleyball anime. And no, it’s not just a clone of Haikyu. This story follows Yuni Kuroba, a physically built but emotionally weak teenager who finds out his childhood friend Hajime is moving back to their hometown for high school. Yuni discovers Hajime has become an exceptional volleyball player and they join their school’s volleyball club hoping to turn the unknown team into a rising star. If anything, this anime is much more like Stars Align or Free, where the sport is a backdrop for letting the characters explore their personal problems. Or at least it seems that way after the first episode. I went into this show ready to throw it in the trash because how could anything compete against my beloved Haikyu, but I found myself really enjoying the dynamics of the main duo and I’m curious to see what the rest of the team is like.
And speaking of sports anime rip-offs…..I can’t believe I’m including this but…
Skate Leading Stars: The show where the animators clearly wanted to design another throw away idol anime but saw how popular Yuri On Ice was so they decided to make whatever the hell this show is instead. It revolves around a fictional team sport called skate leading, and we follow the world’s most insufferable main character, a former figure skater named Kensei who wants to return to the ice and join his school’s skate leading team after he finds out his childhood rival is going to compete in the sport. Look, this show is just trashy enough to get a certain type of audience hooked, and it mainly has to do with the best boy of the winter season, Hayato Sasugai, the aspiring team “coach” who pulled most of us into watching this show with his punk appearance, snide comments and smug personality. He’s basically the lovechild of Izaya Orihara and Shizuo Heiwajima in a high school sports anime setting. The show treats itself with the perfect amount of sincerity to get away with being absolutely ridiculous most of the time without making you feel like you’re watching it from a dumpster...like Try Knights. You will know after one episode whether this show is for you. All I can say is, Hayato is worth the watch, and I haven’t seen any 3D animation used for the skating scenes (yet) so that’s a win for me.
Honorable mention:
Jobless Reincarnation ( Mushoku Tensei): Yet another isekai where the main character is hit by a car (big surprise) and gets reincarnated into a fantasy world...but he happens to remember his previous life and narrates himself growing up as a jaded adult. I’m only including this because it looked amazing animation wise, and I love the opening where getting hit by a car and dying is actually traumatic. And I love the protagonist’s parents (who are retired adventurers who just want to bang all the time). But honestly...the main character is the fucking worst, and I don’t know if I want to keep watching it because of how creepy and weird he is. Like...he’s the hit on your fantasy mom as a baby kind of creepy and weird. But for anyone who wants a cool looking isekai that had an amazing PV, it’s worth checking out.
Continuing Series!
Because the real gold of the season is in all the established anime getting their next seasons, I’m just going to list some of the things that are also amazing and definitely worth checking out if you haven’t already (because I’ve already talked about most of them at some point and don’t know what else to say).
Attack On Titan season 4
The Promised Neverland season 2
Beastars season 2
Log Horizon season 3
That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime season 2
Re: Zero season 2 (second cour)
Dr. Stone season 2
Cells at Work season 2
Osomatsu-san season 3 (second cour)
Higurashi New (second cour)
Jujutsu Kaisen (second cour)
Not to mention all the shows I don’t watch that everyone else loves...like World Trigger (which I have seen quite a bit of, but long shounen shows are too much for me now) Quintessential Quintuplets, and Non Non Biyori.
So there’s just some of all the anime airing this season. Hopefully, someone can find something they like. Here’s to a great year...well, of anime at least...
#anime recommendations#anime worth watching#dr stone#the promised neverland#that time i got reincarnated as a slime#beastars#cells at work#cells at work code black#log horizon#horimiya#monster incident#kemono jihen#sk8 the infinity#2.43: seiin high school boys volleyball club#re: zero#skate leading stars#heaven's design team#jujutsu kaisen#higurashi new#wonder egg priority
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chess, not checkers || a. hotchner x f!reader
Summary: Cross-examining Agent Hotchner should have been a lot more simple than it had been. But when the questioning slips out of your control, you find yourself being profiled right there in the middle of the courtroom. Amazing how one stranger can know you better than anybody you've ever met.
Contains: SMUT! 18+ only, minors DNI. Fingering, (light) choking, semi-public sex, adultery, anger sex, enemies to lovers, edging, lawyer hotch <3
Word Count: 8k+
Comments: This is so heavily inspired by “charcoal grey” because we all know how hot he was in that scene. Thank you to @angelfxllcm for being an absolute godsend as I wrote this and being the most supportive friend ever. (If you haven’t read her work, you absolutely should!)
“Fucking FBI and their selfish ass schedules,” you grumbled as you hurried through the hallway of the courthouse, your intern Robin on on your heels. “Court gets pushed back for a week because Agent Hotchner just had to leave with them on a case instead of working remotely, and then expects us to drop everything to go to court the second he gets back to D.C. As if we don’t have jobs too. As if I don’t have six other cases sitting on my desk that now have to be pushed back because of him.”
Robin scrambled behind you, nodding along to every word that left your mouth. “Does this happen with the, uh…”
“BAU,” you supplied.
“—BAU, right. Do court cases usually get pushed back for them?”
You shook your head as you checked your watch. A glint caught the corner of your eye. Shit, your ring. You hadn’t expected to go to court, and completely forgot to leave it at home. You pulled it off and slipped it into the outside pocket of your bag, hoping nobody noticed.
“No. Most cases from the BAU never go to court,” you explained. “There’s enough evidence against the people they arrest that it’s almost always a plea.”
The Bankers Box in Robin’s hands almost slipped as you placed another file precariously on top of it. “Then why is this case going to court?”
Your step faltered as you processed her question, and you couldn’t hide the disbelief on your face. “You did read the brief for this case, right?” you asked, unsure if you really wanted the answer, except her embarrassed blush and averted gaze gave you enough of one. “Seriously? Okay, well, first of all, because of that, you won’t be sitting at the attorney’s table with us. Instead you’ll be in the public seating. I won’t weaken my case because you decided to be unprepared. If this happens again, you won’t be welcome to join me in court at all, am I clear?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” Deciding to take pity on the poor intern, you sighed as you started your explanation. “Our client claims that his arrest was unlawful and therefore none of the evidence they found should be usable. I’m inclined to agree with him, so we’re fighting all of the charges that were made with evidence found after the arrest.”
“So you don’t think he’s guilty?”
“I don’t ask that question. I’m not God and I’m not his priest, I don’t need to hear his confession. I just need to get him out of unjust and illegal charges.”
Robin’s eyebrows furrowed. “So he’s going to walk free? Even after everything he did? How do you sleep at night?”
Fucking Christ, how did this girl even get into law school? You rolled your eyes, suddenly regretting your decision to take on an intern. “No, he’s not going to walk free. He’s going to get a lesser charge, because everything else was obtained illegally. And I sleep very well, actually, because my job isn’t some episode of Law & Order. Less than 10% of my cases ever go to trial. I’m not here to suddenly convince juries that the evidence is wrong. My job is making sure that everybody is given their constitutional rights, that the police are doing their jobs correctly, and that the State isn’t over-punishing. Any cop knows that, and if you ever come across one that doesn’t, you know that you should look into those cases even further. You have to realize, criminal defense lawyers—”
“— are the last line of protection against a corrupt system.” You turned to see your assistant, Marcus, making his way towards you, briefcase and your spare blazer that you keep in the office in hand. “I see you’re giving her your famous anti-prosecutor lecture.”
Marcus helped you slip on your blazer over your satin button up, his hands lingering on your skin for just a little too long to be considered professional, and it made you shiver in anticipation. “God knows she needs it. Thank you, Marcus, for bringing these so quickly. Were you able to get the physical copies of Agent Hotchner’s files?”
Marcus held up his briefcase. “All right here. Although I have to say, I’m a little lost as to why you need his service records.”
The three of you turned the corner to enter the courtroom, your heels clicking on the tiled floor. Robin obediently took her seat in the public viewing area while you and Marcus pushed through the swinging door to settle at your table. “I’ve heard stories of Agent Hotchner’s testimonies. He used to be a prosecutor, so he’s not easily tricked, but he is prideful and will defend his work. I’m going to use that to my advantage. It’s like I always say, practicing law means always playing chess, never checkers.”
Marcus took the seat next to you, making sure to sit close enough that his knee brushed yours the whole time. “You know, I was thinking, this case is complicated,” he whispered, “And we haven’t combed through everything yet… It could take more time than we planned.”
You smirked, knowing exactly what he was insinuating. “Agreed. I’ll tell Tony I have to stay late at the office tonight.”
Before Marcus could continue his flirting, you were distracted by the door to the judge’s chamber opening, revealing the back of a man in a black suit. “Thank you again, your honor, for the continuance,” came the deep timbre of the man, and oh. You certainly weren’t expecting that. “A young girl was able to be reunited with her family this week because of it.”
The man in the doorway turned, and your breath caught in your throat. He was tall and buff and expensive-looking and absolutely gorgeous. His suit was tailored to fit him perfectly, the sleeves of his blazer straining against his biceps. He carried himself with an aura of confidence, like he belonged in the courtroom, and he was making his way directly towards you. Unconsciously, you separated from Marcus, putting as much distance between you and your assistant as possible without raising suspicion.
The man said something to the prosecution before turning to you, hand outstretched. He said your name as a greeting, and your name had never sounded so good. “I’m Aaron Hotchner.”
When you stood up to shake his hand, you tried to ignore the way his eyes raked down your body, or the way the two of you held on just a moment too long to be considered proper. It felt as if he was looking right through you, learning all of your secrets as though they were written on your body. No, you knew that look. He was studying you. “Agent Hotchner, it’s a pleasure.”
“Likewise, Counselor. Please, call me Aaron.”
You raised your eyebrows in Aaron’s direction, still shaking his hand, and it made your skin burn. You dropped his hand. “I’m just glad we’re able to get this case done and over with. Hopefully with no more delays.”
His eyebrows quirked upwards in what could only be described as shock. “I see your reputation precedes you,” was his only reply before going to his respective seat, and if he noticed you watching his every move, he made no indication of it. That being said, you definitely felt his gaze on the back of your head as the judge entered the room and the session began.
As the proceedings dragged on, you and Marcus continued to talk strategy, his hand finding its way to your thigh ever so often. You also continued negotiating with the prosecutor, both of you flashing Post-It notes of potential plea deals that you would be willing to accept, always careful to keep it out of the eyes of the judge and jury. By the time Aaron had been called to the stand, the offer given to you still wasn’t low enough. Fine, if the prosecution wanted to make a fool of themselves, so be it.
You listened to Aaron’s testimony with the prosecution, completely enraptured. There was something about the way he spoke, so full of authority and confidence, that made the entire room drawn to him. He was incredibly intelligent, that much was clear, and despite the many years since he had actually practiced law, that prosecutor candor hadn’t left him. Staying focused on the case had proven to be more difficult than previously expected. You found yourself staring at his lips, and it didn’t take long for your mind to conjure up some obscene and explicit situations starring the man in front of you.
Eventually, his eyes caught yours, and he watched you, his lips — god, those lips — quirked up in a smirk. Aaron watched you expectantly, and in the light of the courtroom, his eyes were almost the color of whiskey, and you wanted nothing more than to drink it all in.
A sharp “Counselor” broke you out of your trance. In the corner of your eye, you could see Marcus looking at you in concern, but he was the furthest thing from your mind now, especially as Aaron let out an amused huff of air.
“Counselor, does the prosecution wish to cross-examine the witness?” the judge asked with barely hidden annoyance, making you think that it probably wasn’t the first time she had asked the question.
You stood up quickly, smoothing down your pencil skirt as you did. “Yes, your honor. Thank you,” you said, trying your best to keep your voice steady as you noticed Aaron’s eyes trailing down your bare legs.
The cross-examination started normally, and Aaron answered all of your questions with careful precision that only a lawyer could pull off. He seemed to know exactly where you were trying to go with your questions, and easily sidestepped any unflattering implication you were trying to make. Long, biased questions were met with short, clipped answers, not giving you anything to work with. Whatever move you made, Aaron was right there, two steps ahead with you. Never in your life had you met somebody who could follow you so easily or could match your wit without so much breaking a sweat.
It was exhilarating.
“Agent Hotchner,” you started, hands clasped behind your back. “Could you please explain to the court how profiles are used when finding and apprehending suspects?”
Aaron sat up a little taller in the witness box. “Using behavioral research and past case studies, we’re able to construct what we call a profile of the perpetrator, or unsub. Anything they do can give us insights as to who they are — their victims, what weapons they use, even how they dispose of the bodies. Once we have a profile of who we believe is committing these crimes, we have our technical analyst run the parameters through her system. From there, narrowing down our search is easy.”
You nodded slowly, pretending to mull over what he was saying. “For clarification’s sake, in layman’s terms, you build your profile off of assumed psychology, and not concrete evidence, is that correct?”
The muscles in Aaron’s jaw flexed, a sure sign he was gritting his teeth. “Behavior analysis is a tool, just like any other—”
“It’s a yes or no question, Agent,” you interrupted, and oh, he was not happy about that.
His tongue darted out from between his lips. “The research we use for behavior is—”
“Yes. Or no.”
Aaron hesitated, his frustration building up to palpable tension that settled in the courtroom like a thick fog. You weren’t giving him a chance to explain or show off anymore, didn’t allow him to be seen as the smartest person in the room anymore, and that was getting to him.
“Yes,” he conceded, grimacing as if admitting that was physically painful for him.
“Thank you,” you replied, and he caught the unspoken that wasn’t so hard now, was it? even if the rest of the room did not. You walked back over to your table, snatching up a piece of paper and holding it in the air. “Your honor, the defense would like to submit Exhibit Seven into evidence.”
Once the judge gave her express permission, you placed the form in front of Aaron with your left hand, perfectly manicured fingers splayed out in front of his eyes. You almost missed the way his head tilted ever so slightly and his eyes narrowed, like he was staring at a puzzle half complete. “Agent, could you please tell us what’s laying in front of you now.”
He leaned forward slightly, eyes scanning the paper before meeting back with yours. “This is a part of our official report of the case. Specifically, it has the profile that was used to lead us to the apprehension of Mr. Mckenna.”
“Does it say on that paper who had the final sign off on the profile before it was circulated?”
“Yes, that would be me. As Unit Chief, my job is to sign and finalize any reports.”
“And could you please read the profile, verbatim, as written on that report?”
Aaron’s face remained neutral, with the exception of his eyebrows scrunching together. Slowly, he had started to piece together your strategy, and he didn’t like it. “The unsub is a white male, between 32 and 40 years old. He’ll most likely be unemployed and driving a van or truck — anything that would let him easily transport his equipment and victims. We believe that he’s also had run-ins with the law before, likely as a juvenile. He’ll come across as friendly, if not a little shy. We believe that this comes from a failed relationship in his past, one where he believes that he was manipulated and wronged, and now he’s going after surrogates for that woman. Killing these women is the only thing that gives him any sort of power. If we can figure out who this past relationship was, it will lead us directly to the killer.”
You paced back and forth in front of the witness stand, your skirt tightening around your legs with every step you took. “Between 32 and 40 years old, unemployed, and killing surrogates… Except Mr. Mckenna is 22 and works part time as a bartender. How do you justify arresting my client with those inconsistencies?”
“As I mentioned before,” Aaron started, his voice dangerously low, “A profile is just one tool we use of many. Not every single part of the profile will fit every single time. Which is why we also rely on outside evidence to ensure that we have the best chance at catching the unknown subject as quickly as possible.”
“Except you had no concrete evidence, which you admit in your own report!” You took two steps closer to him, getting as in his face as possible without risking being held in contempt. With every word that left your mouth, your voice got more and more forceful, and you got more and more under Aaron’s skin.
“All of it was circumstantial at best. You had a hunch, an inherent bias against my client due to his previous conviction record, and you were frustrated at your own inability to get a good lead. But you can’t arrest somebody on a hunch, or because you’re angry. You had no evidence and the man you arrested didn’t even match the profile that you came up with!”
Your eyes locked with Aaron, his gaze heavy, and neither of you dared look away first. “Objection!” came from the prosecutor behind you. Exactly what you wanted. “Argumentative and foundation.” You flashed Aaron a predatory grin.
Two moves to checkmate.
“Sustained,” said the judge.
“Withdrawn.” You tapped the witness bench, hoping to convey an air of aloofness and calm. Aaron scowled. “Agent Hotchner, before joining the FBI, you were a prosecutor, is that true?”
Confusion flashed across his face for the briefest of moments, and it gave you a twisted sense of satisfaction to know that you had the upper hand. You knew the answer to every question you were about to ask, and he knew that. He just couldn’t figure out where you were going with this line of questioning, or what the relevance even was. “Yes, that’s correct.”
You made a soft hum of approval. “Could you please walk us through your higher education?”
“I attended George Washington University for both my undergraduate and law degree.”
“What did you major in for your undergrad?”
Aaron hesitated. “Political Science.”
Check. “So all together, you’ve had about seven years in higher education. In that time, how many psychology classes did you take?”
It was almost sadistic, the way you relished in the slight twitch of his face — the realization that he had been backed into a corner. The silence was deafening as Aaron’s scowl met your smug grin.
“None,” Aaron said finally.
“None,” you repeated, performative shock dripping from your words. “Do you have any academic background in psychology or human behavior, then?”
Aaron’s jaw clenched, and as you made your way closer to the witness stand, you saw his thumb frantically moving back and forth over his fingertips. Clearly, you had struck a nerve. “The FBI has rigorous coursework in order to become a profiler, along with multiple exams and continued training as more research becomes available to us. The profiling classes are no easy feat and are written by experts in the field. Creating profiles has a long and respected history in detective work, and these profilers have caught some of the most prolific serial killers of all time.”
You placed a hand over your chest in faux modesty. “My apologies, Agent Hotchner, I believe I wasn’t very clear. I’m not calling into question the validity and effectiveness of profiles. I’m calling into question the validity and effectiveness of you as a profiler.”
You could practically see the cartoon fire spewing out of Aaron’s ears. He was so close to being in your trap, something he had to have known, too, yet he continued to toe dangerously close to that line.
“A lack of formal education in profiling,” you continued, keeping your voice light, “and the blatant disregard for basic police and legal procedure as shown in this case with my client… I mean, how many other mistakes were made in your past cases? It’s hard to believe that you can read anybody, much less the hardened criminal that you have painted my client to be.”
Checkmate.
“Objection!” cried the prosecutor again. “Your Honor, this is —”
He was cut off by the judge raising her hand. “Sustained. Counselor, I would advise you to tread lightly from here on out.”
You raised your hands in mock surrender. “Withdrawn.” You turned around to make your way back to your table, ignoring Marcus’s look of complete disbelief. Baiting Aaron had been easy, and now all you had to do was wait.
The courtroom was uncomfortably silent for one beat… two beats…
“Not only can I read Mr. Mckenna,” echoed Aaron’s voice, “But I can also read you.”
Once you got back to your desk, you turned around, hands resting on the cool wood of the table top, but you never sat down. Instead, you leaned forward, and arched your eyebrows in a silent challenge — one he was all too eager to pursue.
“The red Harvard Law tag on your briefcase is a perfect match to your lipstick, and you wear the same one every time you go to court. Not because you’re superstitious the way most lawyers are, but because it’s your way of maintaining control in the courtroom, something you’re desperate to keep in every aspect of your life, personal and professional. I would guess that this need goes back to late high school, early college. But you’ve been worried about appearances and how you’re perceived for even longer than that.”
You fought the urge to roll your eyes. So he thought you were Type A? Anybody could have guessed that by your anything. All they would have to do is look at your color coded case files or your daily schedule, planned down to the minute. You had only been trying to sway the jury when you insinuated that he wasn’t a good profiler, but maybe you were actually starting to believe it yourself.
Except Aaron got a dangerous glint in his eye, causing your stomach to bubble with anxiety. Clearly, he was playing chess, too, and by the looks of it, he believed he was winning.
“In fact, you’re so worried about losing control, that despite your busy schedule, you refuse to hire a planner for your upcoming wedding.”
That got your attention. The objection that you were about to call died on your lips, and all you could do was stare with poorly hidden shock. Next to you, Marcus turned pale as a ghost.
Aaron, cocky bastard, continued his profile of you, with no clear signs of stopping anytime soon. “You have a tan where your ring usually is, and I know you’ve been wearing it recently as you subconsciously fiddle with where it would be whenever things in court aren’t going your way. Just like you’re doing now. You still have your maiden name, which you plan on giving up when you do get married because not taking his last name would arouse too many questions that you want to avoid. Just another way your concern of appearances is manifested. So you’re engaged.
“I would say congratulations, but it’s not a happy relationship, not on your side, anyway. Younger female professionals will take their rings off in fear of not being taken seriously, but you’re an established and respected lawyer. You needn't worry about that. So if it’s not about you, it’s about the fiance. You don’t want to be associated with him.”
You gripped the edge of the table, too angry to form words. Your nails dug into the varnish, and you were sure that your heavy breathing could be heard from across the room. This dick. This absolute, garbage, piece of shit dick. The worst part was how casual he sounded as he aired all of your dirty laundry for everybody to hear.
“He’s holding you back, in all aspects of life, but mostly intellectually. He doesn’t have a sliver of your capabilities. The two of you are probably high school sweethearts, prom king and queen type, but while you grew up and matured, he never did. He can’t keep up with you. Still acts the same way he did in high school, only now with more access to alcohol and money. Career wise, he doesn’t have much going for him, probably some sports related pipe dream. But you stay with him because you know how to control him and how to use him to your advantage.”
Aaron’s eyes zeroed in on Marcus, and all of the color drained from your face. The voice in the back of your mind was screaming at you to object, to get the judge involved, anything, before Aaron did any more damage, but you were frozen in your spot. For the first time in your life, you were completely and utterly speechless and spiraling out of control.
“That need for control is also why you’re sleeping with your assistant. It’s casual for you, but not for him anymore. You should break that off. That’s nothing new for you, though. In fact, I would bet that if we looked back at all of your affairs since your engagement, we’d find a long string of men and women, all of whom are your subordinates or of lower status than you. It’s a win-win situation — they’re more than eager to have a chance with you, and you get to stay in control. Oh, you’ll stop when you actually get married, but you continue to push that date back, as well. So…”
He leaned back in his chair, clearly feeling good about himself, and God, you could kill him. You could reach over the witness box and wrap your hands around his throat and squeeze until his whiskey colored eyes popped out of his smug, beautiful face.
Aaron lifted his chin, eyebrows raised in your direction. “Do you believe in my abilities as a profiler now, Counselor?”
That snapped you back into action. You cleared your throat and unnecessarily smoothed down your skirt in an attempt to regroup your thoughts. “Well, Agent Hotchner, thank you for that little show and tell. It’s clear that you are very passionate about your career. However, just like your profile of my client, you have no evidence for any of your unsubstantiated accusations.”
It was a pathetic attempt at saving face, and Aaron knew it, but it had to be enough for you. You turned your back towards Aaron so that you could face the judge, who, to her credit, had a perfect poker face the whole time. “Your Honor, I move to strike Agent Hotchner’s outburst” — not an outburst, Aaron was too composed to ever have one of those, but he grimaced at the word all the same — “from the record, as no question stands before the witness at this time.”
The judge looked at you dubiously, clearly debating her ruling. There shouldn’t have been any reason to worry, you were legally in the right, but there was always the chance that she wouldn’t be on your side. You noticed yourself fiddling with where your engagement ring would usually be, and you cursed yourself under your breath. How could Aaron have possibly known all of that?
“Sustained,” she said finally, “I direct the jury to disregard the witness’s, uh, example when considering the evidence.”
You let out a breath of relief. It wasn’t much of a win — everybody still heard what had happened, it was still in the back of their minds, like the ring of a bell echoing — but at least in regards to the case, you had the legal upper hand.
The judge turned back to you. “Defense, the witness is still yours, if you have any further questions.”
If you were a little more in your right mind, you would have cut your losses, but between your oath to defend your client to the best of your ability and that stupid self assured grin on Aaron’s face, you knew that you really had no choice.
Deep breath in… Slow breath out… You’re at a stalemate now.
“Agent Hotchner,” you said, causing him to perk him up in interest. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting you to continue. “Wouldn’t an ex-lawyer and an FBI agent be familiar with the rules of decorum in a courtroom?”
His eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure I understand your question, Counselor.”
“Let me rephrase, then. Would you say that you have a history of emotional outbursts and rule breaking in your line of work? And I’ll remind you that you are still under oath.”
Aaron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “No, I wouldn’t. Integrity is one of our core values, and we take that very seriously.”
With shaking hands, Marcus handed you one of the files you’d had him print out on Aaron. “If that’s so, can you explain why, since your promotion to Unit Chief in 2005, you and your team have had seven disciplinary hearings, one of which being an internal investigation into the excessive force used by one of your agents, and another being a congressional hearing?”
A sick sense of satisfaction passed over you when you saw him get visibly shocked, his poker face breaking for the first time that day. If he wanted to go for blood, you could fight back twice as hard. “I’m not at liberty to discuss either of those cases.”
You shrugged nonchalantly. “Very well, Agent. So between the discrepancies in the profile, your inability to control your temper, and your history of breaking procedure, coupled with the fact that you arrested my client without any warrant by kicking in the door to an innocent civilian’s house, do you really believe that your arrest and the subsequent evidence that came from that arrest was obtained legally? Or do you just not care either way, as long as you’re able to prove that you’re right?”
Right as he opened his mouth to speak, you turned your back on him and started to walk back to your table. Aaron wasn’t even able to get a peep out before you cut him off with a sharp “Question withdrawn. At this time, the defense rests.”
“Our arrest was made on the grounds of—” Aaron tried, and you smirked to yourself. He must have been desperate if he was trying that move twice. You whipped around, gaze steeled.
“I have no further questions, Agent Hotchner,” you repeated, only letting out the slightest hint of amusement. “But thank you for your cooperation with Lady Justice today.”
Aaron’s eyes met yours, and a weight settled in the pit of your stomach. You should have hated him, but something about him had you completely and utterly entranced by him. Maybe it was the novelty of the case. Maybe it was the matching intellects and the fact that he was the only other person who could give you a challenge.
Maybe you just liked the way you got to lose control with him.
As he passed you, his arm brushed yours, and your whole body burned.
“Very cute, Counselor,” he whispered, voice dripping with condescension. “How long did it take you to come up with that little switch up?”
“Don’t patronize me,” you snapped. “I was playing chess, you were playing checkers, and that’s why you lost.”
The rest of the session went on normally, if not a little tense. To your surprise, Aaron hadn’t left immediately after his testimony, and instead took a seat in the section for the public. Good. As soon as courtroom decorum wasn’t a factor, you were sure to give him a piece of your mind.
Court adjourned for the day, and you couldn’t get out of there fast enough. You told Marcus to continue to push for a better plea option as you grabbed your briefcase and stormed out, pushing through the throngs of people until you could see the back of Aaron’s head.
You sped up your steps until you were right behind him, and you grabbed his wrist to stop him in his tracks. “I have a bone to pick with you.”
You pulled Aaron into an empty conference room, hoping to get some privacy before you completely blew your lid. You already had one public humiliation because of him, and you did not need another.
“What is your problem?” you hissed, locking the door behind you. “You had no right to put my personal life on blast like that.”
Aaron placed his hands on his hips, swooping the sides of his suit jacket back, and you had to make a very conscious effort to not stare. “You questioned my profiling abilities, and I proved them.”
“You didn’t prove shit,” you argued, folding your arms across your chest. “Except for the fact that you’re an insufferable bastard.”
“Are you saying that my profile was off? Because if you didn’t want to be caught committing adultery, then you shouldn’t have made it so obvious.”
You gritted your teeth and took a step towards him in a futile attempt to come across as intimidating. Even in your heels, he still seemed to be towering over you. You’d have to level the playing field somehow. You gripped his tie and used it to pull him down so that he was closer to eye level with you. “I don’t need your judgment, Aaron.”
Aaron moved closer to you, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His Adam's apple bobbed and it captivated you. “I couldn’t care less about what you do,” he said flippantly. “Matter of fact, I don’t think this fit of anger is even inherently about your little secret coming out. Do you want to know what I think it is?”
“Not at all.”
“I think,” he continued, completely ignoring your protest, “You’re angry because as much as you can dish it out, you can’t take it.”
Your grip on his tie tightened at his words. “Trust me, I can take anything,” you said, voice low and breathy.
Aaron’s eyes flickered to your lips — those kissable, red stained lips of yours. You hadn’t had to reapply your lipstick once throughout the day, and he idly wondered just exactly what it would take to muss up that perfect, pouty red lip.
“I also think that for the first time in a very long time, you didn’t have control, and you liked it.” He bent down a little bit more so that his lips brushed against your ear with every word and you could feel his breath run down your spine. “Aren’t you bored of sleeping with boys who are so far beneath you?”
You’re not sure who initiated it, but the next thing you knew, your lips crashed against his, the two of you making out like it was the last kiss either of you were ever going to get. His hands felt impossibly everywhere all at once — gripping your hips, tugging at your hair, and even snaking under your work blouse to palm at your breast. His teeth nipped at the fibres of your lips. With every movement of his hands, little gasps escaped you, and you could feel the curve of his lips curling up into a smirk.
His fingers trailed up the side of your body, past the curve of your neck, and tangled themselves in your hair before yanking it back, exposing the column of your throat. Immediately he attached his lips to your neck, nipping at your pulse point.
“Aaron,” you whined, trying to regain the breath he stole from your lungs. You practically melted in his arms, going completely weak at the knees, especially as his tongue trailed across the underside of your jaw. You let his tie fall from your grip, instead bringing your hands up to cup his face to pull him in for another kiss.
His lips set a bruising pace, and it caused a fire to burn in the pit of your stomach. You had never once been kissed like this, never once felt so all-consumed by a person. Aaron’s cologne surrounded you, making your head spin. Bruises were sure to form from how harshly he was gripping your hips, but you didn’t care. He was addicting, and you wanted more.
Hotch walked you backwards until you were pressed up against the wall, his thigh shoved in between your legs, forcing your skirt to ride up. The position made his arousal obvious as he pressed against you. The way he held you was possessive, primal even, Unconsciously, you ground down on his thigh, hoping for anything to help relieve the ache between your legs.
Unfortunately for you, Aaron caught on to what you were trying to do, and he chuckled against your lips before pulling away just far enough to speak. “Look at you,” he whispered, and the raspiness of his voice only served to turn you on even more. He hooked a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him, and his thumb traced your bottom lip, tugging at it ever so slightly. His other hand slowly trailed its way up your thigh, nails scratching at your skin. “Skirt hiked up around your waist, desperate to get off. Your little boyfriends aren’t doing it for you anymore?”
He pressed his thigh further into you, ripping an involuntary moan from your throat. “Fuck,” you gasped, your hips still moving back and forth against him, not caring how needy it made you seem. “I need… I…”
“What? Big, bad lawyer doesn’t have any more smart ass comments?” he cooed sarcastically, pushing your skirt up even higher. He replaced his thigh with his hand, and his fingers ghosted over your covered pussy, teasing you, not giving you nearly enough contact. “Fuck, you’re so wet already. Go ahead, needy girl, if you’re that desperate.” Aaron yanked down your panties in one fell swoop, and you blindly kicked them off to the side. “Be a good girl and show me how much you want this.”
Without any more of a warning, one of his fingers entered you, and you let out a breathy moan that Aaron was sure to have on repeat in his mind for days to come. When the heel of his palm pressed against your clit, your brain completely short circuited. You threw your head back as far as you could despite being pressed against the wall as his name clumsily tumbled from your lips like a prayer.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he grunted, pressing you further against the wall. “Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”
Electricity coursed through your veins as he added a second finger, easily finding that spot in you that made you see stars. You rocked your hips back and forth against his hand, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. His lips trailed from your jawline, down your neck, and to your collarbone.
“Look at me,” Aaron ordered, tightening his grip on your chin, and your eyes shot right back open. Instead of the whiskey colored irises you had gotten used to, Aaron’s pupils were so blown that they made his eyes completely black. “I want to see you lose control all over me. Gonna make sure you come harder for me than you have for any of your boy toys.”
That wouldn’t be very difficult. Nobody had ever made you feel the way you did then, Aaron’s fingers buried deep in your cunt and lips exploring every inch of skin he could access. No part of this was for his pleasure — from the curl of his fingers to the slow circles on your clit, it was all expertly calculated to bring you to the edge with as much intensity as possible, and it was all devastatingly effective.
“I’m so close,” you whimpered, and if it weren’t for the wall behind you, you would have completely lost your balance. “More, fuck, please.”
“More?” he mumbled against the column of your throat. “Use your words, sweetheart.”
Coherent sentences were not an option for you at the moment, not when you were so deliciously overwhelmed with pleasure and with Aaron. Besides, how could you tell him that you wanted him to completely and utterly ruin you? That you wanted him to bend you over the conference table and pound into you until you could barely speak. You wanted Aaron to mark you and send you home to your fiance with reminders of every little thing he did to you for the days to come. You wanted raw and untamed passion. You wanted to be consumed, for him to settle in your lungs like smoke, and haunt your dreams for the rest of your life.
You didn’t want nice and calculated the way every other man you’d been with had acted — you wanted Aaron Hotchner to take control.
You couldn't say any of that, so instead, you grabbed his wrist, the one that was holding your chin in place and, without breaking eye contact with him, you guided his hand down until it rested on your throat. “More,” you choked out, giving him an animalistic grin.
That was all it took. Using his grip on your neck, he pulled you in for another kiss, messy and desperate and swallowing all of your incoherent moans as his fingers moved harder, faster.
You clung to him like a lifeline as you felt your whole body tense up, your orgasm fast approaching. You were so fucking close and he felt so fucking good and, God, if this is what losing control felt like, then you and Aaron could do this forever and —
His fingers were gone from you, and you clenched around nothing. You cried out in protest, which only seemed to amuse him.
“Oh? Prom queen isn’t used to not getting what she wants?” Keeping his hand on your throat and you pinned against the wall, he made slow, teasing work of his belt buckle.
Your chest rose and fell in a desperate attempt to catch your breath. “What happened to watching me come undone all over you?” you shot, trying to even out your voice as much as possible. It didn’t work very well. “Did you lose your nerve?”
A dark, humorless chuckle escaped his lips. “Don’t worry, Princess, that’s still the plan. I just never said where. I want to make sure you’re nice and wet and ready for me to turn you into a moaning mess on my cock.”
In an attempt to regain some control of the situation, you rolled your eyes. “Yeah? And how do you expect to do that?”
He smirked and released your throat. Wordlessly, he grabbed your wrist, and guided your hand down your body, further and further until you reached your throbbing pussy. He used his hands to press your fingers to your clit, and you whimpered softly. God, you were dripping, and the extra stimulation didn’t help your shaking legs.
“By making you so needy and whiny that by the end of this, you're begging for me,” he hissed, lips brushing the shell of your ear with every word. He moved your fingers so that you were rubbing small, slow circles around your clit, although it wasn’t nearly enough to give any real relief. “Begging for me to come and fuck you over and over and over again. Because you know that your pathetic fiance and your string of affairs have never made you feel like this before.”
Aaron yanked your hand away from your clit and you could sob. You wanted to cum so badly that you could barely put it into words. Still holding your wrist, Aaron brought your hand up to his face. He took a brief moment to admire the way your fingers glistened, covered in your arousal, before bringing them to his lips and sucking.
Eyes wide, you made a choked noise as you committed the view of Aaron to memory. “Please, Aaron, fuck, I need you,” you whined, the start of a long string of incoherent begging. You needed him then and there, damn the consequences.
He pulled your fingers out of his mouth slowly, and you moaned at the obscene wet noise it made. “So desperate,” he murmured as he began to unbutton his slacks. “All for me. All because I edged you once.”
Aaron pulled down his pants just enough to pull out his dick, and you licked your lips involuntarily when you saw it, big and thick and leaking precum. Clearly, it gave Aaron a bit of an ego boost, because as he ran the head up and down your sensitive folds, he reminded you, “You did say you could take anything, Princess.”
Your breathing came out shaking as you shivered, waiting for him to do something — anything. You were so empty and you needed him so badly. If you didn’t get his dick in you soon, you were pretty sure you would lose your mind completely.
“Fuck me, Aaron,” you moaned, arching your back to press into him more.
He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips in an almost intimate gesture. “Patience is a virtue,” he chastised.
In your haze of arousal, you barely noticed him grabbing your briefcase and digging through the small pocket in the front. You especially didn’t notice his pause when his finger touched something small, round, and metal in the bottom of the bag. The only thing you cared about was him coming back to you, holding up a condom packet with a smirk.
“I knew I’d find one somewhere in your briefcase.” You let the comment slide, the excitement at the prospect of sex with Aaron Hotchner outweighing any jackass comment he could make. Aaron made quick work of putting on the condom. The second he was done, one of his hands ran up your thigh, getting a good grip on it before pulling it up and around his waist.
“Do you feel how wet you are for me? How willing you were to give up control? All for me? That—” Lips pressed to your ear, he pushed his cock into you, bottoming out with one thrust. You threw your head back in pleasure. “—Is playing chess, sweetheart.”
Aaron dropped his forehead to the crook of your neck as he began pounding into you at a desperate pace. He had held off on his own pleasure for long enough, and now he was chasing his orgasm with a ruthless determination. One hand stayed gripping your thigh, the other one braced against the wall next to your head. Aaron nipped at your neck in between moans of praise for you.
“I — oh, fuck — knew it,” he groaned, digging his fingers deeper into your thigh. “You wanted somebody to take control. Somebody who knows how to please you.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck and tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you. You were an incoherent mess at this point, his name tumbling from your lips like it was the only thing you knew how to say. At that moment, it probably was.
“Finally, that bratty mouth of yours is good for something. You sound so pretty, moaning out my name. Say it again.” A particularly deep thrust caused you to tug at his hair. “Louder.”
Never before had you met somebody like Aaron Hotchner, and you weren’t sure if you ever would again, so you screwed your eyes shut and let yourself get lost in the absolute pleasure he was providing. You memorized everything you could — the way the calluses on his hands felt against your skin, the way he moaned out your name, how deliciously full you felt, and how for the first time in your life you felt truly seen — so that you could suspend the moment in amber to preserve in the back of your mind.
“Please,” you begged, scratching his scalp lightly with your nails. “I’m so close. Fuck, Aaron, you feel so good, please.”
Aaron tore his lips from your throat, choosing instead to press his forehead against yours. His lips brushed yours with every word he spoke, so close that you were practically kissing him. “That’s it, princess,” he murmured. “Be a good girl. Be a good girl and come. All over my dick.”
When you came, it was with a cry of his name as your whole body shuddered. You clung to him as he continued to fuck you. His thrusts began to stutter, and he took the opportunity to capture your lips in one last, scorching kiss, and you were all too happy to oblige.
You think he moaned something as he came, but you couldn’t hear it over the sounds of skin slapping against skin. He fucked you through his orgasm, making sure that you felt every single inch of him. As if you could ever forget it.
The two of you stayed where you were for a few moments, relishing in the feeling of being full a little longer. Your walls fluttered around Aaron, which caused him to muffle his whimpers into your throat.
“Aaron…” you whispered, not wanting to disturb the moment. “That was so—”
“I know.”
“We shouldn’t have done it.”
“I know.” He pulled back just enough to leave a lingering kiss on your lips, and your whole body burned. “But I don’t regret it. Do you?”
You shook your head. “Not at all.” The confession lingered in the hair for a tense second because both of you seemed to remember where you were.
Aaron slowly pulled out of you, an act that looked almost painful for him when you let out an involuntary moan at the feeling. He could have spent all day in you, if given the chance.
The two of you adjusted yourselves in silence, both of you hoping to be able to leave the room with some semblance of professionalism. At the very least, the goal was to not look like you had just had sex in a courthouse conference room. Shame and embarrassment flooded you — what had you been thinking?
Once you felt that you were presentable enough, you grabbed your briefcase and tried to ignore Aaron burning a hole in the back of your head with his gaze.
“Well, Aaron, this was fun.” You cleared your throat. “I’m sure we’ll see each other around at some point.”
You were two steps away from the door when you heard his smug, courthouse voice come back in full swing.
“Forgetting something?”
You turned around in a huff, ready to go right back to arguing with him, but what you saw made your whole body heat up in embarrassment. There was Aaron with a self-satisfied grin and dangling off his finger was your panties.
“These are cute,” he mused. “It’s a shame I didn’t get to fully appreciate them.”
You rushed over there, fully prepared to snatch them out of his hand. “And you never will,” you shot, but even as you said it, you didn’t make much of an effort to take them out of his hands. You just stared at him and his swollen lips and mussed hair, all your doing.
Ever the gentleman, Aaron started to hand your underwear back to you, but instead of taking it back like you knew you should have done, you covered his hand with yours, closing it in a fist around your panties.
“Who says you can’t?” you whispered, guiding his pantie-filled hand down to his pockets. “This way… You can keep it as collateral. To make sure I’ll come and see you again.”
His breath hitched in his throat as you guided him to put your panties into his suit pocket, and you were glad to be the one surprising him this time.
“I don’t care about your fiance,” Aaron started, and you braced yourself for the worse. “But I’m not interested in being the ‘other man’ to your affairs with your assistants, too.”
“Consider it ended,” you promised, not caring how desperate or easy it made you look. You wanted to keep Aaron around for a long, long time.
Just until the wedding, you corrected yourself.
You slung your briefcase over your shoulder, wincing as it dug into a bruise that Aaron had left. It would be there for a while — you’d have to find a way to hide it from Tony until it faded. The thought made you stupidly giddy. “I’ll see you around, Aaron.”
He nodded in goodbye, and you slipped out of the conference room on shaking legs. As soon as the door closed behind you, you reached into your bag, and reluctantly slipped on your engagement ring.
#aaron hotchner fanfiction#Aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner smut#criminal minds fanfic#hotch x reader#aaron hotchner x y/n#my writing#criminal minds
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What Eurovision 2021 taught us
1. That a nice, enjoyable show was possible (even if 4 presenters are still too much)
Of course nothing can beat Love Love Peace Peace (even if Ja Ja Ding Dong does its best), but this year's intermissions were very enjoyable.
We expected something flashy and over the top because hey, The Netherlands. Sex, drugs, gays and all that jazz.
But instead Covid surprised us. And then The Netherlands surprised us even more, by making a very enjoyable show, despite the restrictions. My personal favourites were:
The water intermission of the first semi-final. I loved the mixed feelings, how water is both scary and respected, for being such a powerful, unstoppable force.
The rooftop concerts during the final. Social distancing? Sure, no problem, let's make the past winners sing on top of some roofs all over Rotterdam. That was pure genius, I loved it so much.
On the other hand, the presenters were basically all useless. We could've had just two of them instead of four. But hey, at least they weren't as cringy as the three scary ukranians from 2017 or the useless four ladies from Portugal. The true highlights of the show were the intermissions, the guests and especially the songs themselves and this is perfectly good for me.
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2. That we can live in a world without boring ass ballads
I’ve never been so proud of the Eurovision public, especially during the second semifinal: that evening was PACKED with ballads. Boring ballad after boring ballad, with just a couple more funny songs in between.
The ballads were all left behind. Even the two Amen. And I love the irony we chose El Diablo and the finnish band for the final, but no Amen. No saints allowed, only the norwegian angel. As it always should be.
And so we had the best final I've seen since I started following Eurovision in 2014. Catchy songs, dance songs, upbeat songs. And power ballads. Yes, ballads can still have a place, but only if they're good.
Because yes, Switzerland and France were good. Very good. Just not as good as the ones the public wanted.
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3. That we want Eurovision, not Englishvision
Every year, the same message blasts from all Europeans: send a song in your native language. This show is supposed to make other people from Europe (and the rest of the world) to know more about your own country, to enjoy its rhythm and to listen to something we don't usually hear. So why waste this huge opportunity, to bring a generic song in English?
Because the English song wins. Because we all understand English, so English has more chances.
Flash news: GUESS WHO WON THIS YEAR. No, it’s not the generic English song.
The public has been crystal clear, the final poll is even clearer: the top five includes an italian song, an ukraine song, two french songs and only one english song. We want different styles and rhythms, we want to listen to Europe.
So I want to give my full thank you to:
Albania: amazing song, great voice, wonderful language. Do it again.
Serbia: these ladies are fantastic, their song is great and they sang it in their language so I love them
Switzerland: thank you for leaving English to the side to give us some good french
Spain: the song wasn't as good as Universo, but it was in sexy spanish, so thank you for using it almost every year
Danemark: the song was terrible, but it was in your language and this alone deserves everything
France: I know we all make fun of you for being France, but your language is perfect for songs, so thank you for always using it
Ukraine: take note, Ukraine, because Europe is madly in love with your language and your rhythm
Italy: our language is beautiful, so thank you for delivering every year
While my biggest biases go to:
Greece: a generic pop song with no balkan rhythm and no greek either? An absolute shame, greek should always be used for songs.
Russia: russian language is very melodious and yes, we got something this year, but what about bringing a full russian song? We want it!
Germany: I may sound crazy, but I honestly think german language is good for songs. It's not like the mediterranean languages, but it still works. So please, do not be scared and show what you can do with it!
Scandinavian countries: why do you never want to bring your own language? Do it, don't be scared! Yes, Sweden, I'm talking with you: you still never tried to bring something in swedish, so do it.
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4. That we don't want Americans to play with us
For reasons we still have to understand, Flo Rida was competing this year. And he was competing for San Marino, the smallest European country.
I'm pretty sure they took some time to explain to him what was going on, where he was, where San Marino is, wtf was happening, why there were sexy italians and ukranian witches and a norwegian angel and loads of beautiful women everywhere.
And I loved how we all send memes about this, about ahahah why is Flo Rida here, what if San Marino wins where would they host Eurovision, all while enjoying an actual catchy song.
And then, in the end, Flo Rida basically disappeared. Who remembers Flo Rida, when we got Ukraine, Italy, Finland, Iceland, and the UK? And Germany being wholesome? And the love story between Norway and Azerbaijan? We collectively forgot about him and I think it's very sexy from Europe to just say "nope" and push America away, even if for just one week.
And this isn't the first time: we basically showed Madonna in a corner in 2019, thanks to Mans, Eleni, Verka and Conchita. Once again, Europeans knows what they want: we don't want Americans. Australia can because they're like that little brother we took under our wing for no reason and now it's part of us. But not Americans.
The rest of the year is all yours, but one week is ours.
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5. That we can lose like bosses
This year, the voting results have been absolutely insane and FOUR COUNTRIES got zero points from the public, while the UK got both zero points from the public AND the jury.
Don't get me wrong, the song was bad. And yes, Brexit played a role in this. And yes, hating England is Europe’s favourite sport.
But can we please all take a moment and appreciate how James Newman reacted? The public gave him a round of applause and he celebrated this achievement like a boss.
And he had all the reasons! He achieved something incredible, he unlocked something that this new voting system was supposed to never lead to. But he did it. So hats off to you, my boy: My Last Breath was better.
Germany is also used to the bottom of the chart, but this year I really thought Jendrik could have a chance to achieve a higher position. The song was funny, carefree, lively, the hand costume was the kind of trash we need and the message was nice as well. But he still got 3 points.
Despite that, Jendrik celebrated like a maniac and seeing his this happy made me happy as well. I really wish him the best.
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6. That FUCK YOU JURY
Again, same message every year: the jury vote should be eliminated. It's a fucking farce and their votes have nothing to do with what the public want.
The jury focuses on the voices, except when they don't, and clearly giving points to your neighbours is because you like the song, not because they're your neighbours.
I usually make fun of Greece and Cyprus showing eternal love to each other, by giving 12 points to each other every year, but this time, it sounded even more stupid than usual. It really looked like a farce. Why should we see this farce? Why can't we just choose what the public wants? So at least we would blame ourselves for our shitty musical tastes.
Even if I'm pretty sure we all have great musical tastes. Let's not forget that in 2019 the public's winner was Norway, with a song that mixed english, a catchy rhythm and an amazing part in yoik language. Arcade is good as well, but we cannot deny the norwegian entry was a lot more interesting.
And this year, the public's taste was flawless:
Look at this beauty: italian glam rock, ukranian techno folk, french powerful ballad, finnish hard rock and whatever that thing was with Iceland.
There's variety, there's everything for everyone. And there are native languages. Italian, Ukranian, and French on top three, followed by English.
Moral of the story: the public is great and the jury should be abolished forever.
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7. That Ukranian technofolk is all we needed in our lives
I didn’t see enough love for Go_A, so as italian, I think it's my sworn duty to give my appreciation to them and their amazing entry, because this band is awesome and Shum is currently on top of the Spotify top 50 - as it should be, because everyone should listen to it and join this slavic rave party.
I already liked their entry for 2020, Solovey. But I also liked My Last Breath from the UK and Universo from Spain. And this year they brought two of the worst songs. So I was very wary of Go_A.
But Shum is an absolute blast. Katerina Pavlenko's voice is unique and the song is even more, because based on ukranian folklore and traditional dances to summon the spirit of spring. They managed to teach something to all Europe in a three minute song and I think that’s incredibly sexy of them.
And so, I searched for other songs and OMG, I don’t know how it’s possible, but they are all great. Rano-Ranenko, Zhalmenina, Tanula, they all are perfect and I’m in love with this band.
And if all of this is not enough, THEY DID A COVER OF DANCING LASHA TUMBAI. The most iconic Eurovision song, sang by our god Verka. And this is the coolest, most badass cover ever in the whole universe. Please listen to it HERE everyone needs to hear this.
So thank you, Ukraine, for giving us Go_A. We all had a small empty place in our hearts and this place has ben perfectly filled by them.
And yif you think you don’t need ukranian technofolk, is only because you still haven’t listened to it. Please listen and enjoy Shum. You’re welcome.
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8. That rock and roll never dies (and Italy’s well deserved victory)
The last time Italy won was in 19-fucking-90. 31 years ago. I was just born.
And now, they finally won again. And what a song! Despite being italian, I've never listened to Maneskin before, but oh damn, this song is good. Not all their songs are, but this one is. And also Morirò da re.
Their show was perfect as well. This post is really eye-opening about how well they put on their show. The use of the stage, the movements, everything has been part of a great performance, even their clothes. Damiano's voice never faltered, despite having an entire continent watching him. They handled the stage like bosses, despite being only in their twenties. And they gave us some good fucking rock.
And so the public said a loud "FUCK YOU" to the jury and chose its winners. The sassy, sexy italians.
And yes, I know that there has been a lot of petty polemics because those youngsters are having drugs!1!! as if they were a bunch of idiots who used drugs on international TV, with their manager sitting next to them.
Of course it was a pointless accusation and honestly I don't care if some people are sore losers. The drug results were negative anyway, what a shocker.
What we should truly think about is how strong the Maneskin's bladders are, because they spent the whole evening of the final drinking the entire alcohol supply of the Eurovision and, at the end, they were still happy and cool. Hats off to you, you sexy people.
This man is just iconic, why did I miss him before.
Also, have some more Maneskin. You know, as a treat.
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9. That solidarity and wholesomeness are the biggest winners
It's just beautiful to see these nice people, from all over Europe, bonding, having fun, taking photos together and being friends.
The true winner of this, is probably Norway: Tix wanted to have a good time and he had a good time. The video of him vibing with Ukraine and Germany while listening Hard Rock Hallelujah is the best (HERE). His love story with Efendi from Azerbaijan is even better (please, check the video on his youtube channel, it's hilarious). I don't like his song, but he's a great guy and deserves everything.
The italian and finnish rock relationship is also great. Maneskin and Dark Sides found each other, considering they were the only two rock bands in the competition, so mutual appreciation was inevitable.
But Damiano is also a man of culture and he appreciates Ukraine's entry. And Ukraine appreciates both Finland and Italy. Is this what world peace looks like? Because I love it.
________________________
10. That Italians will be Europe's clowns again (and you're all allowed to make fun of us)
Beware, Europe: we Italians are messy and chaotic, our presenters don’t know a single word in English, we are homoerotic AND homophobic at the same time, our musical competitions are so fucking sloooow... let’s say next year’s Eurovision is going to be interesting.
And yes, you’re allowed to make fun of us. We don’t care, we won, so we deserve to be Europe’s clowns once again.
And I don’t know who the presenters will be (my bets are on everyone’s favourites: Fiorello, Amadeus and Malgioglio), I don’t know how we will ridicule ourselves once again, I don’t know where will we find the money to put on the show, I don’t know how ungodly long it will be... but I know that Mans Zelmerlow will be part of it. This man loves Eurovision just like all of us, so I can already see him packing his suitcase and planning his flight to Italy. Come to us, Mans, we will wait for you. We actually need an English presenter, so if you have nothing else to do...
#beauty talks about stuff#eurovision#eurovision 2021#italy#ukraine#uk#maneskin#go_a#europe#I bet you all forgot again about san marino#and flo rida#why was he here#we might never know#uk stop being sore losers and take yourself less seriously#france you did great#but ukraine did better#go_a my beloved#thank you maneskin for delivering some good music#finland was awesome#some good rock heck yes#such good songs#thank you europe for giving us such amazing show#and now back to my regular scheduling
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"OH SHIT!" part 2
"I WANT AN ABORTION." Sung Jin-Woo said abruptly, tapping his foot up and down from the agitation. "I'm afraid that's not possible. The baby is far too healthy and because of the amount of health potions you drank, it will be almost indestructible by our means. It even accelerated its growth.."
Sung Jin-Woo didn't think that far into it that night. He gave the baby's father an icy glare and took out his dagger from his inventory. "You can't abort it by your means huh..." he locked (M/n)'s hand onto the hilt and pointed it at his stomach.
"(M/n)! Stab me!"
"HELL NO!"
"Why not? We're already at the hospital, so you could just rush me to the emergency room when I start bleeding," Jin-Woo explained, but that still didn't make a drop of sense to (L/n) (M/n). "NOT IN A MILLION YEARS WILL I STAB YOU!"
"Fine. I'll stab myself."
"No!"
The doctor's face paled at the S-Rank hunter's lack of care for his unborn baby's life—even attempting to stab himself. Luckily, (L/n) (M/n) was there to stop him before the blade could touch his skin.
"Jin-Woo! Come on, you could just hold on to it until you give birth. We could set it up for adoption later.."
"I don't have time to wait 5 months. I could be leveling up using that time."
Scratch that. (L/n) (M/n) was also a horrible parent-to-be. The doctor forced a smile, wondering if all S-Rank Hunters were like this. He cleared his throat and stared back at them.
"How did you even conceive this child?"
"I have no idea. I drank too much. Hey, aren't you immune to alcohol?" (M/n) nudged Jin-Woo's shoulder, since he was the one that wanted to play video games all night. "I don't know. I can't remember much either. There was this scent.."
"I see. It must've been a heat."
"No? I wouldn't have left the house if that were the case."
"Then..." The doctor's eyes set on to (L/n) (M/n), making him feel a cold sweat. The man with red eyes smiled awkwardly, blinking repeatedly at the doctor. "Why are you looking at me?"
"It's incredibly rare but I assume you went through a rut, Sir. So I understand how you may perceive this as unbelievable since this situation is one in a billion or even more so." The doctor scratched the back of his head, trying to consider the rarity of the situation.
It was even more impossible if he considered the fact that male alpha and omegas were less likely to have a baby, then they were both S-Rank Hunters, both with their respective systems and (L/n) (M/n) had suffered from a rut that only one in five alphas experience.
[The Orion System is extremely happy!]
[☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆]
[The Orion System is wondering if it would be a girl or a boy??]
[The System is rejoicing for your offspring.]
"I hope it becomes a miscarriage. I'm too busy for this," Sung Jin-Woo said, glaring at his slightly bloated stomach. "Since you are a male omega, there is a 78% chance it would be a miscarriage if you're constantly stressed and you didn't receive professional help from us.."
"Good. I'm already stressed from this situation."
[The Orion System is ignoring your wife's statement.]
[Yay! Baby! ＼＼\\٩( ^ω^ )و //／／]
'He's not my wife, you stupid system. We're friends at best,' (M/n) thought at his system. He and Jin-Woo left the hospital with conflicted thoughts. (M/n) wasn't as extreme as Jin-Woo to forcibly kill it, but he was wondering what he should do next.
That's right. They were hunters. They didn't have time to raise a baby when they could be saving lives through dungeons. It's a simple choice of one life for one hundred.
[The Orion System is rejoicing for you.]
[The Orion System has contacted (totally didn't take over wink wink) the Player System for the child's sake. (*'ω｀*)]
[The Player System has agreed!! ٩( ᐛ )و yay! yay!]
'What are you celebrating for? Stupid Orion..' (M/n)'s mood turned sour, looking away from his system. Jin-Woo held his phone and pressed Jin-Ho's contact, making (M/n)'s eyebrow twitch. "Oi, what are you doing?"
"I'm going to contact Jin-Ho. He's the Vice Guild Master of Ah-Jin so he has to understand our circumstances."
"What? You know how weird that kid's imagination is. What if he thinks something weird?"
"I'll blame you for that then." Jin-Woo shrugged, his phone ringing for a few seconds before Yoo Jin-Ho picked up. "Hello Hyung-nim. Are you doing okay now?" Jin-Ho's voice made Jin-Woo smile, responding quickly.
"Yeah. I just visited the hospital."
"Ohh. Is (M/n) Hyung with you?"
"Yeah, he's right beside me. Turns out I have to lessen my work hours."
"I understand. You are the Guild Master, Hyung-nim. Everything is up to you. But why do you need to?"
"I'm pregnant."
Yoo Jin-Ho choked on his saliva, falling into a coughing fit as he doubted his ears. "Excuse me? What?"
"You didn't hear? I'm pregnant?"
"THAT'S BAD HYUNG-NIM! YOU NEED A FULL VACATION, NOT REDUCING YOUR HOURS!" The beta shouted, making everyone else in the office stare at him. What?! His Hyung-nim was pregnant? So he had a secret lover this entire time, and he didn't know?
"Then, could you decrease (M/n)'s work hours?"
"Yeah, sure. Why him though?"
(L/n) (M/n) hid his face in his hands, feeling so embarrassed that Jin-Woo just admitted that out loud. His own system was bombarding him with weird messages as well, it was creepy.
[There's no need to be embarrassed, Predator-nim~]
[( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). We all know what you did~~]
"He's the father of my child."
Jin-Ho choked yet again, throwing his fist at his desk as he fell silent. So (L/n) (M/n) and Sung Jin-Woo had been in that kind of relationship the entire time? Sure, he didn't know a lot about Sung Jin-Woo but even (L/n) (M/n)?
Is that the reason he joined Ah-Jin? So he could see his lover?
Then all those times they left together..
"Jin-Ho? Are you still there?"
"...If you need any help, you can call me Hyung-nim."
'Oh my God, so they were doing that so many times Hyung-nim got pregnant?!' Yoo Jin-Ho's face flushed as his imagination ran wild, smashing his forehead on his desk to cleanse his mind. 'I'M SO DENSE! I SHOULD'VE REMINDED THEM TO USE PROTECTION!'
"Yoo Jin-Ho-nim.. Is anything wrong with the Guild Master?"
"Ah nothing, he's just on maternity leave."
"What?"
"Huh, he hung up. He must've been shocked.." Jin-Woo said, looking up blankly as (L/n) (M/n) gritted his teeth. His face was red, mostly out of embarrassment than out of anger. "SHOCKED MY ASS! OF COURSE HE'D BE SHOCKED! AND WHY DID YOU TELL HIM IT WAS ME?"
"What else should I tell him? He politely asked who was the father."
[The Orion System agrees with your wife.]
[Calm down, host!! ＼＼\٩(๑'^'๑)۶//／／]
(L/n) (M/n) took a deep breath, rubbing his temples to soothe himself. "Okay, let's just call it a day and go home and sleep." (M/n) felt like it had sucked his life out of him, so he just wanted to sleep.
"I'll see you then."
Sung Jin-Ah was feeling suspicious for the past two weeks, noticing that her older brother's movements have become strange. At first she thought he got sick, but that would be strange for a sickness to last weeks, especially since he's an S-Rank Hunter.
"Hey, I ordered pizza. You feeling okay, bro?"
"Yeah. I visited the hospital earlier," Jin-Woo said, plopping down on the couch beside her. "Where's Mom?" he asked, grabbing a slice of pizza from the box. "She went out to get something. So she said she wouldn't be able to cook tonight," Jin-Ah answered him.
As soon as Jin-Woo took a bite from his pizza, his face turned sour. He swallowed it and bitterly gulped a glass of water. "Actually, I don't want any."
"Huh? What do you mean you don't want any? You practically inhale this stuff!"
"It doesn't taste good."
"It tastes just fine, get over here!"
Sung Jin-Woo completely ignored his beta sister and holed up in his room. Confusion crossed her face as she gobbled up a slice of pizza. 'Something weird is definitely going on with him.. He's sus...'
The next morning, Jin-Woo got up early to do his daily regimen. But his fatigue had raised twice the number it had before. He felt annoyed from it and tried even harder, exhausting himself in the process.
'I haven't even done half yet?'
[[The Player System has cancelled the 'Daily Quest: Preparation to be Powerful'.]]
[[The Orion System has requested it to be changed to 'Daily Quest: Meet up with your Husband<3']]
Sung Jin-Woo wanted to middle finger the systems and ignored the new Daily Quest, thinking it was an awful prank from Orion. (That Constellation liked to bug them a lot.) So he continued to do the old Daily Quest, but he unfortunately got sent to the Penalty Zone all the same.
["Since you lovers don't wanna meet up. I have no choice but to force you! Hmph!! ヽ('⌒'メ)ノ"]
"I— Jin-Woo?!" (L/n) (M/n) hollered, his eyes setting on his partner on top of a floating marble platform. Jin-Woo was behind a translucent wall, safely protected in a small room filled with comfortable pillows, blankets and cute stuffed animals. Just in front of him was a coffee table with a full set of snacks one could crave for.
[[You can sit back and watch the show~ Daddy is going to go on a little run!! ＼(٥⁀▽⁀ )／]]
FWOOSHHH!!
On (M/n)'s side of the wall was a scorching, fiery desert, his shoes sinking in white sand as an enormous monster rose from the ground. The gigantic lizard roared, sending a breath of flames towards (L/n) (M/n) as he tried to run for his life. He screamed and cursed at the system while Jin-Woo watched from above like his Alpha was a gladiator.
"FUCK! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS THING?!"
"ORION! WHY THE HECK IS HE BEING CHASED BY LIZARDS?!?" Jin-Woo punched the orange wall, making it glitch for a few seconds before spitting his fist back inside the enclosed room. He could only look down at (M/n) with worry, slamming into the wall to attempt an escape to go help him.
[[HEY!! Don't help that idiot! He's a loser who doesn't even bother to look after his pregnant wife! (҂' ﾛ ')]]
[[You know what! Since he's so bad, let's go torture him more! Yay! Yay!!]]
Three more lizards surfaced from the sand, breathing fire like dragons. (M/n)'s face paled in shock as he retrieved his rapier from his inventory. A fifth lizard rose from where he stood, making him tumble down on the sand as it bellowed a menacing tune.
"UGH.. FIVE OF THESE THINGS?!" (M/n) shouted, burning his palms from the hot sand as he tried to get up and away from such a life-threatening situation. Sung Jin-Woo felt more anxiety for (M/n) and banged on the walls.
"DO YOU WANT HIM TO DIE!?"
[[Don't worry~ He won't die. He can handle it! (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b]]
[[He has to be at least this strong to be a wonderful Daddy of course. ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ]]
"We're not even keeping the baby!" Jin-Woo glared at the cute emoticon on his screen and gave it a middle finger. He took out his dagger from his inventory, slicing open the wall and using the slight gap to escape.
[[Wait! No! If you get hurt, the baby will die! ＼(º □ º l|l)/]]
"Good," Jin-Woo said with a smirk, landing on top of one of the lizard's heads. "Hey, you need a little help?" he shouted after (M/n), riding safely on the monster. It only seemed to be hostile towards (M/n) and not him.
[[NOO! IF IT ATTACKS MOMMY, ALL HOPE IS LOST! ＼(╥ _ ╥ l|l)/]]
"Nah, I got it!" (M/n) responded, sliding under one lizard's feet and stabbing it's heart from underneath. Its skin was thick, but (M/n)'s high strength stat could make up for it. The beast let out a small cry of pain as his blade pierced through like a needle. He soon coated the blade in a reddish orange hued mana, poisoning the lizard internally in just a few seconds.
"Jeez. I was a little panicked. But I'm fine," (M/n)'s skin was harder than steel, like an indestructible material. Just like in the myth of Orion, he was like the indomitable scorpion that the legendary Hunter could not beat.
"I was a little offended, you know."
[Noo!! Predator-nim, I hate you!! ((╬◣﹏◢))]
[Hmph! Hmph! You big IDIOT! ]
"Orion, shut up."
[FINE THEN! I'LL REMOVE ALL OF THESE LIZARDS! ヽ( 'д'*)ノ]
[I'll be nice to you just because wifey's pregnant okay! humph!]
[Go kiss kiss fall in love now! I don't wanna see you be stupid IDIOTS! (҂ òзó )]
The lizards evaporated quickly like Orion made them out of ice in the blistering sun, making Jin-Woo suspended into the air. (M/n) reached out his hands and ran under him, catching him quickly in his arms. Jin-Woo could've landed safely on his feet, he wasn't that fragile..
But in (M/n)'s princess carry, he felt some sense of relief. Jin-Woo hugged him, inhaling a breath of his friend's pheromones. (M/n) really enjoyed wearing Axe Body Spray (a pheromone masking agent in this world) because he always met up with an Alpha female named Cha Hae-In. It was because of that, Jin-Woo didn't notice any of his alpha pheromones.
But with a whiff, he preferred this version. It made him imagine the fragrance of lit scented candles. It was a very specific scent that calmed him down. "Hm, are you okay?" (M/n) asked, making Jin-Woo snap out his momentary trance. What was going with him?
"Yeah, uhm. Were you still sleeping?" Jin-Woo took notice of (M/n)'s disheveled hair and casual set of light blue pajamas. "Oh right, I haven't showered yet.. Fuck. My handsome complexion!" (M/n) said dramatically, looking down to his lovely rapier covered in sand.
As much as he wanted to get it and polish it until it was shiny, he didn't want to drop Jin-Woo yet. It seems like Jin-Woo was the same, wrapping his arms around his neck in a comfortable hug. Yeah, they should hug more often. It was very comfortable.
[Yes!! NOW KISS!! ٩(♡ε♡)۶]
"Ew gross, Orion is back from a tantrum.." (M/n) set Jin-Woo back down, making a look of disgust. Jin-Woo also didn't like the constellation. So he joined (M/n) in spiting it with all the malice he could.
[Ugh, you guys are so mean! (︶︹︶ ||| )]
[It's like you're perfect for each other. (You are btw (^ω~))]
[I'll bring you back home now. (╬ Ò﹏Ó)]
"Oh nice. This is your room?"
"It's a little messy, but don't mind it too much." Jin-Woo scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, not knowing what to do in such a situation. He and (M/n) had teleported back to his house together, convenient for him. But (M/n) was still in his pajamas.
"Damn, I haven't even combed yet. How do you expect me to walk home in this?" (M/n) sighed, fixing his bedhead with one hand as he scratched his stomach with the other. Even though he just went through a terrifying experience, he was still tired and planned to sleep until noon.
"I mean you could run like really really fast. You'd just be a blur to normal people."
"But.. I haven't been to your house before.." (M/n) looked around Jin-Woo's room. Despite him claiming that it was messy, no clothes or wrappers were on the floor and the only thing messy were his blankets. This guy's sense of "messy" was on a whole other level.
(M/n) just leaves his cans of energy drinks, chips and bowls on the floor and leaves the cleaners to go clean it up. His appearance was the only thing that was respectable.
"So I can't navigate on my own. You know."
"You can use Google Maps."
"I don't bring my phone everywhere."
"You don't? I thought you were an addict."
"Your perceptions of me are so warped. What even made you think I was a beta?" (M/n) sighed, glancing over to Jin-Woo's stomach before blushing. He wasn't that different. He thought Jin-Woo was an alpha precisely because he gave off those vibes.
"Ah, it was your Hunter Wikipedia page. I skimmed over it a while ago.."
"My Hunter Wiki what??" (M/n) got confused, watching Jin-Woo take out his cellphone and search something online. He peered over his shoulder, watching him scroll down to the gender option. It actually said [Beta Male].
"That's really stupid. What part of me is beta?"
Sung Jin-Woo looked over to (L/n) (M/n) for a few seconds, his appearance to his language. Yeah.. (M/n) was right. What part of him seemed Beta? (M/n) right then screamed 'I-AM-A- DOMINANT-ALPHA. STAY-5-METERS-AWAY-FROM-ME-BECAUSE-I-WILL-ATTACK-YOU'
Then, he saw his picture on the wiki. Jin-Woo held his phone up and looked to his left and right, comparing the one in person, to the picture. "Now that I've thought of it, this is the first time I've seen you in pajamas."
(L/n) (M/n) was someone that barely swore, kept calm and wore modest clothing. But it looked like stress took over him so much it affected his personality. His mouth was foul with curses.
"Yeah, I mean the last time you saw me, I was naked."
"Oh," Jin-Woo blurted out, his face heating with that in mind. (M/n) quickly shut his mouth and looked away shyly, fixing his hair to seem more like himself. "Now we're in this situation, huh?" (M/n) mumbled, staring down at Jin-Woo's belly. It wasn't noticeable, but it showed a bump if you touched it.
"Do you.. wanna hug?" (M/n) diverted his vision away from Jin-Woo, a light blush on his face. "What made you say that?" Jin-Woo asked calmly, avoiding looking at (M/n). The (h/c)-haired alpha cleared his throat, extending his arms in the air.
"I don't know. You seemed to like it earlier.."
[Definitely you right now: Σ>―(〃°ω°〃)♡→]
[(￢‿￢ )]
Sung Jin-Woo nodded, placing his chin on (M/n)'s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around his torso. The same fragrant pheromone relaxing him enough to close his eyes. He felt safe in those arms, like he was under an unbreakable set of armor. "I feel like I could fall asleep like this.."
(L/n) (M/n) didn't know why his heart was beating so quickly, making his skin feel like they were on fire just from touching this omega. "We should hug more often," he said, rubbing on Jin-Woo's back calmly. It was fine for friends to hug, right?
But could we could even consider them friends when one of them was pregnant?
"Oppa, I think we ran out of dish soap—" Sung Jin-Ah opened the door, letting out an 'Oh' sound as she gazed at her brother. Then, Sung Jin-Woo noticed how odd it was to have (L/n) (M/n) there. "Wait, Jin-Ah! It's not what you think—"
"MOOOMMM!! JIN-WOO HAS A SECRET ALPHA BOYFRIEND!!"
"Sung Jin-Ah!" Jin-Woo yelled, squeezing her cheeks with one hand as she struggled to run away. "I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT SO BAD WHEN I SMELLED ALPHA PHEROMONES ON YOU! IT'S VERY STRONG NOW!!" she screamed and kicked her feet in the air.
"Hold on. I'm not his boyfriend—"
"LET GO OF ME, OPPA! WHY ARE YOU SO STRONG?!"
(M/n)'s voice gradually got weaker as he pursed his lips awkwardly. There was no room to protest in the screaming girl in the room casually being battled to the death by her older brother. He just gave up.
It was that quick giving up that people thought he was a beta.
"Oh! You finally brought home your boyfriend. That's great," Park Kyung-He said as she stood on the doorframe. She smiled at (M/n), then stared at his sleepwear. "Jin-Woo! You even let him stay without telling us?"
"I didn't—"
"Shush! I know it could be embarrassing to reveal your first love. Come on, dear. What's your name?" she looked over to (M/n), waving her hand to call him over. "It's (L/n) (M/n), Maam.. Nice to meet you," he said shyly, not even refuting her words at all.
His cute demeanor made Kyung-He fall in love with him already. What a good future son-in-law. No wonder Jin-Woo liked him.
"Ah, come here now (M/n). I'll cook you breakfast too."
"If you don't mind me intruding. Thank you.." (M/n) said, following Kyung-He like he was an imprinted chick. "I'll be there too!" Jin-Ah said, wrestling with Jin-Woo's arm. "Let me go, you jerk! I wanna see what your boyfriend is like!"
"I already told you. He's not my boyfriend."
"Why are you even saying that at this point?" Jin-Ah made a face at him and slipped through his grasp, running out of his room in fear that he would catch her again. "I caught you red-handed! Hehe!!"
[[(¬‿¬ ) hehe..]]
"Orion.. What have you done to my system?" Jin-Woo grumbled, walking out of his room with a long sigh. He could explain to them later that he and (M/n) were just friends. But sadly, he would never get the opportunity to.
"So, when did you and Jin-Woo meet? Was it nice?"
"Oh! I met him at work. He was my partner for a while. And you know, when I saw him, he was so scary I thought he was an alpha!" (M/n) was suddenly very talkative, amusing the curious Kyung-He and Jin-Ah.
"Ohh.. So how did you fall in love?"
"We didn't!" Jin-Woo butted in, receiving sympathetic eyes from his family. "Oh, so it was Jin-Woo who fell first. I see," Kyung-He assumed. He asked (M/n) how he did, but it was her son that answered. Their romance was very cute.
"No.. That's not.."
"Wow, I didn't think Oppa would be the one to confess. He's being super shy about it right now. How could he even proclaim his love now..?" Jin-Ah exclaimed in shock, looking over to (L/n) (M/n). He did provide the juicy details she wanted in a romance novel. Jin-Ah approve!
But even though he was the one who confessed, why is he suddenly saying they weren't together? Was her Oppa too shy about it and only stayed sweet in front of his one true love? Isn't that.. too cute?!
"Huh? What are you all talking about? Jin-Woo didn't confess to me?"
Sung Jin-Ah's world was then flipped upside down. It all made sense. Jin-Woo was denser than the Earth itself. If (M/n) was he one who asked him out, it would make even more sense! Their trope was... Shy Omega x Outgoing Alpha! Jin-Ah prayed internally to her lord and savior, KatsuKavi. She was in a romance novel and she could watch the protagonists.
"Oppa, you're no fair! How did you get this lucky with KatsuKavi's pairing rituals?!"
"Who?!"
"The author!"
(A/N: ignore the fourth wall. There is no such thing.)
"Ah, we got too distracted! (M/n) could you clear the table?" Park Kyung-He stood up, moving towards the sink. (M/n) nodded obediently and helped her wash the dishes. Jin-Woo was dumbfounded at his goody good behavior.
He didn't even clean up at his own house. What was he doing being so good with his mother and sister?
"You're a good kid, (M/n). I approve of you."
"Thank you," (M/n) said, chatting a little bit with Kyung-He until he could call her 'Mom'. Sung Jin-Woo gritted his teeth as he watched (L/n) (M/n) be the new favorite.
"Oppa, (M/n) is so good to us. How dare you hog him for yourself," Jin-Ah glared at him from across the room, getting an angry look from Jin-Woo. "Wow, so possessive.." she murmured to herself, skipping happily to her new brother-in-law.
Possessive? No, Jin-Woo wasn't being possessive. He must've just been jealous (L/n) (M/n) was getting all the attention. But when did Jin-Woo start caring about being the center of attention?
He looked over to his best friend, biting his lip to ignore the tight feeling in his chest. He wanted to scream 'look at me!', but he was so dense he didn't know who he wanted to look at him.
"Ah, that's Jin-Woo?! He looks totally different!" (M/n) exclaimed, looking through Jin-Ah's older photos of Jin-Woo. He did look like an omega before, but he drastically changed after becoming a S-Rank Hunter. It was like he was a totally different person.
"Yeah, he used to be so cute and sunny. Now look at him! He's growling at me for taking you away from him."
"I am not growling at you!" Jin-Woo argued, knitting his eyebrows together. He didn't know why, but he felt so annoyed being so far away from Jin-Ah and (M/n). Normally, he wouldn't care but for some weird reason, he didn't like being treated like air.
(L/n) (M/n) soon changed out of his sleepwear and took a nice shower. He didn't wear any pheromone masking agent, so everyone could smell his masculine pheromones leaking out. As much as Jin-Woo liked it, he felt a little annoyed that his 'friend' was being used as incense.
"Mom, did you let him wear dad's clothes?"
"Mhm. It wasn't being used anyway," Kyung-He answered Jin-Woo. She put her hands together, making a sad smile as he looked over to (M/n). "I think it should go to good use, you think?"
"Yeah."
"He suits it well, right?"
"Yeah."
"He's more handsome now, isn't he?"
"I agree."
Sung Jin-Woo crossed his arms over his stomach. (L/n) (M/n) was very attractive in his eyes and a fuzzy feeling would come when thinking of him. "I can tell you really love him. So don't let him go." Kyung-He coaxed Jin-Woo. His mind was blank, only focusing on (M/n).
"Yeah."
"Oi, Jin-Woo! Why did you smile so weirdly in this photo!"
'Ah, I hate him so much,' Jin-Woo thought as (M/n) made fun of him. "Don't look at those!" he marched over, snatching the photo album from his hands while Jin-Ah and (M/n) laughed on the floor.
"Pfft! I don't want our child to look like that!"
"It'll be even worse if it looked like you!"
"I'm a handsome bastard and you know that!"
"I didn't know you wanted children. I hope they look beautiful in the future," Jin-Ah's eyes sparkled at the thought of cute children saying 'Aunt' at her. She wanted to squeeze their chubby cheeks immediately.
"Wait five months, then you decide if the baby will look good."
"Five months? So you're getting married in five months?"
"What? No, I mean Jin-Woo is giving birth in five months." (M/n)'s laughter soon ceased into silence as Jin-Woo walked closer to him menacingly. He then understood why (M/n) didn't want him to tell Jin-Ho about his circumstances. It was so embarrassing for them to know. Now they're never going to let him give it up.
In front of his family, his face became tomato red with both anger and embarrassment as he crouched down to strangle (L/n) (M/n). "Why did you tell them, you dumbass?!"
"Eh?? I thought they already knew from how you told Jin-Ho from the moment we left the hospital."
"Shut up." Jin-Woo balled his fist and set it in the air, his other hand on (M/n)'s chest to prevent him from moving. "Wait, wait! Don't actually—"
"Oppa, you're pregnant?" Sung Jin-Ah's shock had multiplied by 900, so did her happiness. "MOM! IM GOING TO BE AN AUNT! WOOHOO!" She stood up from her place and fetched her phone with a massive smile. She was going to brag to all her friends all about it, wasn't she?
"This is a pleasant surprise. Jin-Woo! You don't tell us about anything going on your life." Kyung-He also smiled, half scolding Jin-Woo. He was already 24, so he could decide as an adult. She had no problem with it. "First, you're a hunter, then your secret fiancee, now your child? Hoo, you.."
Wait, why did secret alpha boyfriend evolve into fiancee? They weren't getting married after the birth of the child!
(M/n)'s ears were about to bleed. He forgot about it! But because of their excessive happiness, he couldn't bring himself to disagree with what they were saying in fear they'd be disappointed. So he could only regrettably nod.
[Yay! Yay! Baby!!]
[We're getting a little hunter!! (☆ω☆)]
Jin-Woo's complexion became pale blue. They were doomed.
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I’m On Fire [Chapter 1]
Summary: With her sister’s wedding fast approaching and her Mom hounding her about finding a date, Y/N makes a terrible decision that lands her and her least favorite genius in a confusing situation.
A/N: This is the first part in a series, I’ve written the first few chapters already so I’m hoping to update pretty regularly! I hope you guys enjoy, and any feedback is always appreciated! ❤️
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader
Category: Fake Dating, Enemies to Lovers, (Eventual) Smut, Fluff, Angst, it’s a Slow Burn Baby
Warnings: None really for this chapter, cursing? Mean-ish Spencer
Word Count: 6.5k
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Series Masterlist
Masterlist
I wasn’t at the BAU long before it started to feel like home. The team became my family, pure and simple.
Having been recruited by Hotch at only 22 I'd sort of fallen into the roll of the little sister to the team without really meaning to. It's not that I was naive, or particularly sheltered even. I know I'm good at my job, and I'd want to be, given how my life's revolved around it almost entirely. But the team seemed to adopt a protective mindset over me right off the bat.
When I first joined the FBI everything was terrifying. I worked so hard for my PhD, trying to get into the unit, but there's almost nothing that can actually prepare you for the real thing. Being out in action in the field, working the cases out in real time. Sometimes they had a smooth, easy conclusion followed by loud obnoxious drinks together. Then there were the others, the ones that kept me up for days after and felt as though they owned little pieces of my heart still.
It was JJ that helped the most on those horrible flights back on the jet. Noticing my anxious ticks and uneasy disposition after that first case that had ended badly. JJ had been through it all before, taking too many cases home with her. Seeing her son's little faces in the kids that we couldn't help. If I was the baby of the team JJ was the big sister, looking out for everyone.
Morgan on the other hand was the outrageously cool older brother, the one you just wanted to be. Early on he'd helped my weak self with the ruthless fitness regimen the FBI required, he offered to pull some strings and get the test written off. But I couldn't accept that, there was something in me that just wanted to impress Morgan, and honestly still does. Like somehow if he thought you were cool, then it became true. So I passed the exam, but getting up a flight of stairs was near impossible for a week after.
Emily was probably the fun aunt. The one that would sneak you booze at the family gathering, or take you to your first concert. Emily was actually the one who'd found me, digging around colleges for potential recruits she'd had me picked out for a while I later found out. Insisting that Hotch give me a shot. It was reassuring to know I had someone who would stick up for me from day one.
I was an tech analyst, among other things, sort of a counterpart for Garcia in the field. So it was no surprise to anyone when the two of us hit it off as though we'd known each other forever. We weren't the same by any means though. Penelope was bold, and bright, and confident beyond measure, where I've typically felt like more of a blend into the background type. I've always thought of myself that way, despite my achievements. I'd also always believed I was fairly inoffensive, no one I'd met had ever had a huge problem with me, 'till I got to the BAU that is.
Every rose has its thorn I suppose.
That thorn in my side was Dr. Spencer Reid.
It wasn't that Dr. Reid was a bad agent, or even a bad person. I hadn't actually met him before that first day in the conference room, but I'd known who he was for a long time. Before I came along he'd held the mantle of 'youngest ever recruit' in the unit, while I was studying I'd read any of his work I could get my hands on because of that fact.
I figured it must've been some sort of hazing when he looked me up and down that first day I was introduced, and then proceeded to blank me entirely for a full week. Up until I'd wrapped my first case.
The whole team went straight from the jet to the bar. Proceeding to get far too drunk. Spencer joined, which the rest of the team found unusual, and I probably should've taken as a sign of things to come.
That case went well, and everyone was in high spirits but Reid had a sour disposition, at least it seemed that way every time he looked at me. After a few too many drinks I went outside in an attempt to sober up in the cold air, unfortunately Reid must've snuck outside not long before.
"Ugh" was all he said when he first caught my silhouette approaching him. The night was unusually cold so it had been deserted outside the bar that evening. I wasn't really sure why it made me nervous to be alone with him like this, the two of us leaning back against the same small area of brick wall, looking out at the cold night.
"Nice to see you too doctor" was all I could muster, I was drunk enough that I let my sarcastic tone leap out, "you can relax, I'm just trying to get some fresh air, it's too stuffy in there, and loud. I'm not here to talk to you or anything."
"Well aren't you a sensitive thing" he responds in kind, at that point I wasn't really sure if it was a coincidence or if he'd been genuinely avoiding me, but things were starting to clear up.
"I'm sensitive, that's a fun take on things" I joke, taking a long sip of cold water from my glass.
"And what's that supposed to mean, newbie?" his emphasis on the last word all but confirms my suspicions.
"Fuck man, what's your problem with me? Is it because I'm new, or because I beat your stupid record?" I quip. hoping that at the very least it might coax him out of his shell. Dr. Spencer Reid getting angry at me could honestly be better than the nothing I'd been experiencing from him until now.
"What stupid record?" he sounds genuinely confused
"I'm the youngest BAU recruit now?" I didn't know why else he could be so sour. He'd never met me before last week, and since he'd ignored me that first day I'd done all I could not to step on his toes. So if he had a reason to hate me this much, it wasn't something I'd done on purpose.
He takes a few moments to respond, raising his eyebrows and considering the information. He chuckles. He fucking chuckles.
"That's funny." he says, his voice leveling out, "I didn't peg you as funny newbie" that word sets something off in me again. Something about it is dismissive, or belittling. Before I could fight back he starts to move, maneuvering around me and heading back inside. A little too tipsy to think of anything constructive to say, I just mutter "Fuck you Spencer."
He swings open the door, as he walks inside he just says "See you Monday, Newbie" without even looking at me.
And that was only the beginning.
----
"You know I'm just trying to make sure you get enough rest sweetheart. There's no need to get so defensive!" it was far too early in the morning to be dealing with this call. Since joining the BAU a few years ago this was a standard call from my Mom. Equal parts well meaning and over-bearing, and generally asking far too many questions.
"I'm not getting defensive Mom, I get plenty of rest, my job is just very important to me and you know that." I knew she was right to be at least a little worried, this job was consuming, and in all honesty I wasn't sure how people like JJ were married and still here. It seemed like an impossible feat.
"Fine sweetie, how are your co-workers doing then? How's Penelope? Give her my love" she loved Penelope, I think she thought that Penelope tethered me to the normal world, and in a way she was right. She kept me sane, and fun, and made me eat pizza and do face masks once a week at least. Even when I didn't think I wanted to.
"Pen's great Mom, everyone's good. Well, the usual ones get on my nerves, but I'm fine." As I say it I glance across at Dr. Reid, the only person who's also in as early as I am most days. I'm not sure if he can hear me but he's tapping his pen so loud on his desk that it takes all of my energy not to walk across the bullpen and stab him with it.
"Y'know what Mom, I'm actually just after getting to work and it's a busy day so can I call you back later?" I chance, getting her off the phone is always an ordeal.
"Fine, fine, I'll let you go. But wait one last thing!"
I knew what was coming. It was always coming.
"Are you seeing anyone, Margot's been wondering too, just thought I'd check in?"
Pinching the bridge of my nose and trying not to scream down the line, I just sigh out the frustration instead.
"No Mom, believe it or not, I've made no progress on that front since you asked me all of 3 days ago."
"See you are being defensive!" she snaps
"I gotta go, bye Mom. Love you!" I say, hanging up quickly before dropping my head down into my arms on my desk, resting like that for a few moments in silence.
Hearing Garica chuckle behind my ear I perk up and spin around. She's holding a small paper cup of coffee and hands it to me. I look at it confused, "Sorry about the paper, I couldn't find your mug in the cabinet" she apologizes, looking over at Dr. Reid and rolling her eyes. Now I know he can hear me from his seat, he takes that moment to sip from my mug and place it gently back on his desk.
It hadn't taken long for him to start toying with me. It was always stupid childish things. Things I couldn't get genuinely annoyed at, that would give him far too much satisfaction, knowing he was getting to me in any real way. This was one trick he liked to play if he got into the office before me, he'd take my mug and make his coffee in it, just to spite me I guess.
"Why does he even do that, it's so stale" she said, just a little louder than normal to make sure he could hear. Garcia and Reid were still good friends and team-mates but she liked to stand up for me when she could. He liked to avoid me as much as possible so he'd usually go to Garcia before me if he needed help with something. Even when the two of us were out in the field together. Which was obnoxious but it was just another thing I'd gotten used to over time. And as long as it didn’t interfere with the case I just forced myself to let it go.
"I know it's such low grade bullying isn't it?" I shot back with a chuckle.
"So I'll take it that was Mommy dearest" Penelope gestures to my phone. She knew my Mom, and she knew about her general overbearing energy. I let out a groan thinking about the call again, and the calls that were to come.
"Isn't it always Mommy dearest?" I joke
"So she's still on your ass about the wedding then?" I'm sure Penelope was almost as sick of hearing about it as I was,
"Margot's getting married in like 4 months now, and every time Mom calls there’s just some new hometown loser she wants to set me up with Pen. It's fucking exhausting" I take a sip of the coffee she made me, savoring the bitter taste. She sits down on my desk for a moment, leaning in.
"Honey, did you ever think that if you got out there and found someone, she wouldn't be on your ass at all?" I don't want to think about that, about how she's completely right. All I can do is let out another small groan and lean back down onto my desk.
"Too early Pen" I say, it's muffled by the desk but she gets the message. Hopping up and heading to her own office as some more people start to arrive for the morning.
Leaving me alone to make a start on my paperwork that had built up throughout the week. Fridays were usually slow like this, giving me a little too much time to think. I couldn't shake the thought that my Mom and Penelope were actually right. Maybe I was a bit too invested in the job, and maybe that was a pretty big factor in why my last relationship imploded but I wasn't about to admit that to anyone.
----
After that the day crawls by, thankfully no cases pop up so the weekend might actually be free. Trying to make sure I clear up all of my paperwork takes a little longer than I'd hoped and leaves me alone in the bullpen. It seems like everyone's gone home by the time I've packed up and I'm ready to leave. Which wasn't as out of the ordinary as I'd like it to be really. Everyone else seemed to have somewhere to be on a Friday night.
Waiting for the elevator to arrive my phone started to ring, I could see my Mom's caller ID on the screen. If I just let it go I know she'll call back later, may as well get it out of the way. I take a deep breath in anticipation before I answer.
"Hey what's up?" I answer, stepping inside the elevator as the doors ping open.
"Hi sweetie, I've got good news! Do you remember David? That lovely boy, he helped out your Father that summer in high school?" I know what's coming and rub my temple, trying to stifle the headache I know is coming. As I answer a hand slides between the elevator doors, popping them open again.
Dr. Fucking Reid walks in, and he looks about as happy to see me as I am to see him. I make eye contact and look away just as fast, willing him away with my mind. "Yes Mom, I remember him, why are you telling me this?" I already know the answer but I'm fed up, she still sounds excited when she responds.
"Well you won't believe it! I ran into him at the market this morning and I thought you'd like it if I passed on your phone number to him, maybe for the weddi-" it took all I had not to shout into the receiver, and maybe I would've had the elevator been empty.
"Mom! Jesus!" I have to reign myself in, but I have a bad idea, "You know what, I'm actually sorted. I've got a date lined up now" I'm not sure why I said it with no real plan in place. She sounds even more excited than I've ever heard her.
"Oh my, that's amazing sweetie! That was fast, I can't believe you found one since this morning, it's someone from work so?" she assumes, and I'm just not thinking fast enough to correct her.
"Mmhmm, yeah" I'll figure out the logistics later I rationalize.
"Oh! Is it that boy you're always on about, the one who teases you?" she asks, and her voice is full of joy, and it makes me feel horrible that I'm lying already, and that I'm going to let her down.
"Yup, that's the one, look Mom I gotta go, I'll talk to you later! Night" I blurt out so fast it has to be obvious I'm nervous.
I can hear a stifled chuckle behind me. Fuck. How loud is my phone speaker. Could he hear that. Surely not. But this elevator was completely silent. The doors open and I have to stop myself from running to my car at top speed. Instead I walk out just a little faster than normal, turning around to shoot him a small wave goodbye. And he's got this devious smirk on his face that makes my stomach turn.
Sitting into my car I pull out my phone to text Garcia immediately.
I'm on my way to yours right now. It's urgent.
——
Traffic's light so it takes maybe 10 minutes before I arrive at Garcia's place. My mind's racing and my body takes me there on autopilot. Why did I say any of that, why did I even answer the damn phone. Why did I wave goodbye to Spencer, I never usually did that. Maybe that's why he had that look on his face. Maybe he was just thinking of something funny that happened earlier and it had nothing to do with me at all. That was something he'd do to mess with me for sure.
How was I going to walk this back with my Mom, she was just gonna have more questions that I couldn't answer. Fuck.
Garcia buzzed me up and her door was open for me by the time I got up the stairs. This little purple apartment had become my second home. It was where I spent most of my evenings off, laughing on the same sofa I was collapsing face first into right now. Garcia nestles in beside me and runs her hand over my hair, "Hey sweet pea, what's happening? I don't want to sound too concerned but you're not giving me much to go off? Are you dying, is there drama? You're going to have to tell me what's so urgent before I burst a blood vessel?"
I let out a muffled, "is drahmuh" into the pillow, Garcia shakes my shoulders.
"Sit up babe, damn!" I have to heave myself out of the pillows, sitting upright on the sofa beside her, clutching one of the pillows in my arms.
"It's drama" I repeat,
"Well, out with it then, you know I'll take all the drama I can get! Spill, spill" she rushes me along. I'm already apprehensive, Reid's her coworker too, but if anyone would understand why this was such an issue it was gonna be her.
"Okay, I'm after doing something stupid and I think I really need your advice" I cringe already, thinking back to the elevator, throwing out my words faster, I continue the story, mostly trying to get it over with, "my Mom called again when I was on the way out tonight and she was trying to set me up with this guy, and Reid was there, and I got all flustered, and I told her I had a date already" I throw my head down into the pillow again.
"Wait why was Reid there?" she looks like she's trying to fit puzzle pieces together and she's getting nowhere, "And what's the drama?"
"Shit Garcia, it was in the elevator and it was all quiet, and maybe he heard the call, maybe he didn't but he had this fuckin' look on his stupid face" I can't shake the smug little smirk, it's burned inside my eyelids. Garcia's face falls in what looks like disappointment.
"Ugh Y/N! That's nothing chill out, why does it matter if he heard your call? I know you guys are all weird but none of that is any of his business anyway!" she shoo's her hand in the air, dismissing the whole situation.
"No Garcia, it is his business now" I have to close my eyes when I say it, I can't look at her "I told my Mom that he was my date, well, I didn't say his name or anything, she assumed it was someone from work and so I just agreed, and then she suggested that it was him and then I fucking panicked Pen, I fucked up so bad. What do I do?"
I finally opened my eyes to look up at Garcia. She was sitting in pure silence, pursing her lips in what seemed like contemplation. The puzzle pieces finally slotting together. It's as though a light bulb goes off behind her eyes and she bursts out in fits of laughter. Doubling over on herself before finally taking a few breaths to calm herself down. I'm honestly not sure why she finds the whole thing so funny, she know's how needlessly annoying he's made my life, she's seen it first hand and heard me talk about it over and over again in this very apartment over pizza.
"Garcia, this is not fucking funny! This is serious!" I try to calm her down, I need advice not whatever this is.
"I'm so sorry Y/N, I love you dearly. But this isn't funny, this is hilarious. It's like you're Sandra Bullock in some mid-90's rom com. I love it" I don't love it, in fact I hate it. I nearly snap at her but pull myself back.
"Pen, come on, help me out. What do I do with this, how do I fix it?" I plead.
She stops laughing and pulls out her phone, "Okay, I'm sorry. I'm going to order us a pizza, and we're gonna sort this thing out together, sound good?" I just nod and collapse back into the sofa. I think I feel better now that I've gotten it out in the open.
----
Penelope makes us tea while we wait for the pizza, she keeps lemon & ginger in her cabinet for me, just like I keep mint for her. The warm mug and the steam calm me down. After a few minutes alone to think about it I start to figure it out a little better. I figure I can just lie to my Mom for a while, it might suck but I can pretend for a bit and then make up some excuse as to why he can't come closer to the time. Then I can just bring Garcia instead and everyone's happy. I'm about to float my plan to her there's a knock on her door. I was so caught up that I hadn't really noticed quite how starving I'd gotten. Leaping up of the sofa to grab the door.
I swing it open but it's not the pizza guy. Somehow it's the opposite of the pizza guy, my worst nightmare is on the other side of the door. He must notice my eyes blow completely wide. "Y/N!" he says, more of a statement than a question really, like he's telling himself that he's actually seeing me in the doorway. I'm not as gentle.
"What the fuck are you doing here Reid?!" I can't even disguise my anger. He seems a little flustered, like he's got absolutely no idea how to proceed.
"Um, uh, is Garcia here? I can, um, I can just come back later?" he swallows hard and shakes his head, before I can agree and tell him to get lost Penelope races to the door, pulling it wide open.
"Nope, that won't be necessary Doctor! Come on in, you're right on time sweetheart" she waves him in and he walks past me, his demeanor changing almost instantly. He's smug, like he's won whatever battle this was. And I hate it. Though he's still as confused as me despite the newfound attitude. Reid sits down on the sofa, right where I had been sitting. I bite my tongue and sit on the opposite end.
"Are you okay Garcia?" he asks with a genuine concern, "What's going on, what was the emergency?". He's not stupid, he knows she's not in danger now that he's here. But he wants answers. I don't know that I've ever seen him this confrontational with anyone, well anyone but me. The entire time I’m staring her down as she sits in the armchair opposite the two of us. My keys are in my pocket and my car's right outside. I could just jump up and make a break for it. Escape.
"You know what Doc, you won't believe it but I'm not actually the one with the emergency" she takes a beat, and I'm starting to think that I might understand why people murder other people after all these years, "Y/N has something urgent she needs to talk to you about" she's silent for another moment, and she almost looks giddy, "Actually Spencer, you might already know a little something about the matter already, now that I think about it" she smirks, and it's pure joy.
My keys are in my hand ready to bolt when the doorbell chimes again. "Oh, that'll actually be the pizza this time, if you two will excuse me" she hops up out of the armchair and races to the door, leaving the two of us alone in a horrible silence. The tension is almost too much, I want to speak but I really have no idea what to say, or how to even start saying it. But he starts.
"Y/N what's going on, I feel like I'm out of the loop here? What am I missing?" he asks, and there's something uncharacteristically genuine about the way he says it, but he can't turn to look at me as he speaks. I almost want to let my guard down and just have a conversation but I can’t force myself to do it. "Shut up Reid." is all I mutter, folding my arms across my chest.
He turns sharply on the sofa to face me. "Hey Y/N. Believe it or not I'm about as happy as you with whatever kind of Parent Trap situation Garcia's got going on here. But from what I'm picking up on you've got a problem and I'm supposed to be able to help with it. So do you want to tell me what's going on or not? I can just go?" I can see that there's an anger bubbling right below the surface, threatening to burst. I know I shouldn't but I let him stew in silence for a little too long and he jumps up off the sofa.
"Y'know what, typical" he mutters, rolling his eyes as he says it, "this is all about you." he throws his bag over his shoulders and begins to walk towards the door. Something in me just snaps.
"All about me?! Are you fucking kidding? I've been tip-toeing around you for years, ever since I joined this damn unit!" I shout as Garcia comes back into the room, pizza box and plates in her hands.
"So, who's hungry?" Garcia asks, trying to break the tension, or pretending there's no tension at all. Reid shakes his head in disbelief and rubs his temple before he speaks again, "Actually I was just gonna head out" he gestures to the door, "I'm clearly not wanted here so I'm gonna leave you guys to it." Spencer makes a move to leave but Garcia grabs the strap of his shoulder bag, yanking him back ever so slightly before he really has the chance to escape.
"You are going absolutely nowhere kid" She points back to the sofa, "get back there" she glances to me, staring with far too much intensity. "You too, sit." Her voice is more stern than I've ever heard it, even while we were on a case. I can't help but obey her command and I sit back down on the sofa in silence. Followed by Reid, clearly processing the same uneasy feeling of a serious Penelope.
She sits opposite the two of us again. "Y/N, Spencer, I love the two of you with all of my heart, albeit separately, and I would die for either one of you. But you've got to chill the hell out!" she says it like she's had it bottled up forever. The tension that releases from her as she says it looks euphoric.
She opens up the pizza box and lays it on the coffee table and takes out a slice for herself. Taking a bite she leaves the two of us in stunned silence. Once she finishes the mouthful she turns to me specifically, "Y/N you tell him, or I will." dead serious. And the feeling in my belly is like I've just fallen down an elevator shaft.
My stomach is in knots as I turn to Spencer on the sofa next to me. His face is puzzled and I think I might be able to make out pure terror in his expression. I don't know that I've ever been looked at like this before and my stomach screws up tighter. I have to take a deep breath and I can't believe I'm about to say it. "Fuck it" I have to take another breath almost immediately so I just have to force the rest out, "I don't know if you heard the call I was on while we were in the elevator earlier?" I look up to gauge his reaction and I can see his face relax, and worse than that, one corner of his mouth lifts into a sort of smile. It's a look of pure smug satisfaction and I think I might scream. I have to close my eyes because I really don't think I can look at that face as I say the next part.
"My sister is getting married in a few months and my Mom's been on my ass to find a date for the wedding and she keeps trying to set me up with these losers, so I fucking panicked, and I told her you were my date." by the time the sentence is out my eyes have screwed up so tight it feels like I have to pry them open.
He sits in silence for too long. Thinking, maybe?
"So I'm the boy who teases you then?" he grins. So he did hear. And he did laugh. He looks far too self satisfied. Now he knows he's right. He knows I've talked to my Mom about him, that he's gotten in my head. I can tell from his smile that he's savoring the moment. Mostly because I can't slap the smug smile off his face I drop my head into my hands. In an effort to disappear I guess.
"So," he says, taking a moment, "is that all you wanted to say then?" he asks, lighthearted and obnoxious, back to his usual self. I snap back to reality, shooting my head back up.
"What do you mean is that all?" I throw back genuinely shocked,
"Is that all you had to say Y/N? Can I go now? It's a long bus ride home y'know" he smirks but makes no effort to move. He can't possibly be making me do this.
"Well no, obviously!" I stutter, "I mean, are you, will you, uh?" I can't bring myself to say it out loud. He leans in on the sofa looking directly at me, refusing to break eye contact.
"Did you have something you wanted to ask me Y/N?" I just want to smack that fucking look off his face,
"Fuck you Spencer Reid" I almost whisper under my breath, but Garcia snaps me back to reality.
"Hey!" she looks at me, stern again, "Ask him." it's not a question, or a suggestion, it's a command.
"Fine okay" I scrunch my eyes up again, "Will you come to my sisters wedding with me as my fake boyfriend?" I curl up into myself as I say it, I can almost feel the bile rising up from my stomach. Like I'm having a biological reaction to the whole thing.
Reid crosses his arms and sinks back on the sofa, like he's performing the act of thinking. He's considering my offer to make me squirm.
When he finally speaks he says "Well I would Y/N, but I really fail to see what's in it for me" he's after getting cocky now.
Garcia pipes up, excited, "Oh, Oh! I know! I have an idea!" she interjects, "Spencer remember how a while ago, back after your apartment flooded you were all all worried about your antique books and prints and stuff?" he nods, "Well Y/N could digitize the collection for you as a back up? I know you're a technophobe? C'mon Y/N, you know you could do that no sweat, and it would take you a lifetime alone Spencer?" I really don't want to admit it but she's right. Even I knew Reid was adverse to any technology that wasn't vital, but it was your specialty. And maybe that was a good trade off, a job like that would be near impossible for him to pull off without help. I take a glance over at Reid and he seems to have had the same train of thought as me. He lets out an exaggerated sigh and relaxes his posture.
"Fine, I guess that's a fair trade. I'm in." he resigns and I almost can't believe it. I'm barely processing the whole conversation as he sticks his hand out to me, I'm confused for a second before I grab it and shake it firmly. Condemning myself to whatever's about to happen. And it's not the time to be thinking about it but maybe this is the first time Spencer and I have ever touched? But I shove that thought away.
Garcia's positively beaming and she's not even trying to hide it. "Now it's like you're both in a Sandra Bullock movie, oh, but you're Hugh Grant maybe?" she points to Reid.
"Don't push it" I shoot in her direction, taking a slice of pizza, now that my anxiety stomach has sort of passed.
Once the pizza's been eaten in near completely awkward silence Spencer stands up off the sofa. His unsure demeanor has returned and he looks nervous. "I actually should get going this time" he says but Garcia pipes up to protest,
"No, it's not even late!"
"It takes me a while to get back home, thank you though Pen. For... this?" he gestures to the whole living room, "Night" he waves. He's almost made it to the door before I stand up out of my seat. I'm not really sure what comes over me, maybe it's gratitude, maybe it's guilt, or maybe I'm just exhausted.
"Wait Spencer. Let me give you a ride home?" I ask and it's like it's not even me saying it .
"Thanks, but I think I can make it home just fine" he dismisses, and there’s an antagonizing tone in his voice that snaps me right back to our usual rapport.
"I'm trying to do a nice thing here, fuck! Just let me do something nice!" I snap, and he throws his arms up in surrender.
"Fine alright, if it'll make you feel better"
"Fuck you Reid" I mutter under my breath and I sort of hope that he does hear me really. If he's gonna be hostile about this I can be too. I give Garcia a hug goodbye but I'm going to scold her for this whole thing later.
----
I lead the way outside and climb into my car, Spencer hops into the passenger seat and it feels as strange as always to be alone with him. Especially because it's not an accident, and it's not in work. Maybe this was a horrible idea. He seems like he's unwilling to break the silence, so I just get it over with.
"Where the hell do you live man? I'm gonna need directions." I say, as deadpan as I can muster, which probably isn't all that intimidating.
"Sorry, yeah, so you're gonna want to turn on the ignition" he teases. I definitely wasn't intimidating enough.
"Don't push it" I say, turning to give him a cruel stare, he just reacts with a smirk, that same one from the elevator earlier.
"Oh, I'm pushing it?" he asks, feigning disbelief
"I'll kick you out of this damn car" is all I can think to say. He barely responds, he just lets out a soft chuckle. I want to ask 'what's so funny' but he speaks before I can get the words out.
"I can't believe you talk to your Mom about me" he continues to laugh. That's enough.
"You know what Reid, of course I have! I work with actual murderers on a daily basis and somehow you've been the only real source of friction in my life since I joined the BAU!" He stops giggling a little, but not entirely, he looks like he's making an effort to contain himself.
"I'm sorry. I guess I just never knew I got to you like that" he still finds the whole thing amusing, but I sure as hell don't.
"Directions, now" I demand, looking straight out the front windshield.
"Fine, keep going straight on this road for a while and I'll tell you when to turn" he says, finally playing nice.
The two of us drive silently for most of the journey, the radio playing softly in the background. Eventually we arrive outside his building, and it's nicer than I thought it would be. But I have no idea what I was really basing that on. For some reason it hadn't occurred to me that Dr. Reid lived in an actual home, I had pictured him sleeping upside down in a cave maybe, or in a cryogenic chamber with all the other life-like genius robots.
"So," he says, breaking the silence, "When is this wedding?"
"4 months from now, in and around" I respond, matter of factly. Spencer nods, taking it in.
"Alright, so I've got 4 months, in and around, to learn enough to convincingly pass as your loving boyfriend. Doesn't sound so difficult." he jokes, his tone harsh and sarcastic.
"Look Spencer, I know this is insane and honestly kind of stupid. But in all seriousness, you can back out right now if you're not on board with whatever this is. I'm telling you this is the last exit ramp." I try to say it with sincerity, giving him a genuine out if he's not comfortable with the weird set-up that Penelope pulled on us both. He thinks on it for a moment and shakes his head.
"So how are we gonna do this?" he asks, and I really thought he was going to back out. So I don't have an actual answer.
"Well, I uh, I haven't really given a plan much thought. How about I come over and start working on some of the stuff you want digitized like Garcia mentioned and I can use the time to give you the footnotes on my life?" I suggest, at least that would make it easier to knock things out all at once. Rather than having to spend even more of my free time with Reid than necessary. He looks content with the improvised plan.
"Alright, sounds good." he undoes his seatbelt and opens the door to hop out of the car before turning back to me, "Are you coming inside or what?"
— —
Next Chapter
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#criminal minds smut#Criminal Minds Fanfiction#Criminal Minds#criminal minds imagine#Matthew Gray Gubler#matthew gray gubler smut#matthew gray gubler x reader#spencer reid x y/n#dr spencer reid#dr spencer reid smut#dr spencer reid imagine#dr spencer reid angst#mgg#mgg imagine#mgg smut#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#dr reid#enemies to lovers#fake dating au
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BILLY — Kim Taehyung (3)
Synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?
Pairing: yandere!Taehyung x f!reader
genre: angst, horror, weirdly some fluff lol
Warnings: dark themes, yandere, stalking, manipulation, conditioning, mentions of abuse, suicidal ideations/attempts, self harm, murder, depictions of torture etc (basically its gorey and fucked up), angel trap, etc stabbing and guns. do not read if triggered!!!!
wordcount: 2.2k
taglist: @yes-sol-not-soul @yoongiofmine
a/n: pt 3 is here!! honestly i wasnt expecting this amount of support as i’ve never published my writing before so thank u sm ♡ i was inspired to write this one night and i had no idea where it’d go or anything but i’m happy with the way its turning out :D fun fact abt me, i’ve been obsessed w the franchise since i was little and i actually have 2 saw tattoos, one of billy and one above saying “cherish your life” since that’s pretty much the motto of saw :) and i have quite the collection of saw/billy items so why not turn my fav horror film into a fucked up love story! let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist and pls enjoy reading^^ feel free to send me asks abt the series or anything u want~ i love hearing from u guys!! :D ps— taehyung and the reader dont have much interaction in this part,, theyll definitely be more of them together in part 4 :) unedited so pls excuse any mistakes!! tysm <33 and remember these are fictional characters and do not represent bts personally in any way!!
series masterlist
part one part two
The headlines constantly named the Jigsaw Killer, Billy. The somewhat eerie little doll that had a face as white as a Calla Lily with spirals on it’s cheeks as red as the blood that was shed during the tests. Billy was always dressed in a little black suit with a red bowtie and he was (most of the time) situated on a squeaky battered tricycle. Attached was always a tape that read “play me” and when the subjects did, a chilling voice— one that could make even the world's worst predators shiver with terror— would echo around the room.
Everyone knew that a doll clearly wasn’t responsible, yet they gave it the name Billy in hopes to somewhat humanise the face that instilled panic— they did not want to live in fear.
It was the only face behind the killings.
But this time, there was a different subject stuck in the test and Billy had made sure there was no way for them to survive.
“How are you scared of heights? You’re practically a giant yourself!”
“Just because I’m tall doesn’t mean I can’t be scared of heights Y/Nie.”
You had no idea how long had passed since Taehyung had turned up at the garage, you were too busy chatting away squeezed into the kitchen while your Dad, Yoongi and Hobi worked on the cars in the shop. If anyone could hear you both, they would think you’d known eachother since childhood— the playful jokes and light touches exaggerated that.
You’d only known him for a few hours really, if you added the time spent with him on the first day and now. It hadn’t seemed like all those weeks ago that you first met, he had a familiar presence, as though you had known him for years compared to the hours.
“I just wouldn’t imagine you to be scared of anything Taehyung… you seem so confident and fearless.”
You saw the way Taehyung looked at you. His eyes flashed with understanding.
“I did have my fears back then, much like yours.”
“What do you mean?” you had a rough idea on what he meant but you needed him to voice it.
A deep inhale and the words flowed from his lips before he could stop it, “The fear of living. I had been through some stuff you know, growing up. My mum was working a lot and my dad was an alcoholic, he was so fucking possessive and wouldn’t let her go anywhere without kicking off. It was a fucking shitshow and so toxic. This one time though, I’d pretended that I’d gone to school and waited outside the front door. It didn’t take long before I heard shit getting smashed and my dad shouting.” Taehyung was telling the truth only, he left out the part where he was also as possessive, if not more, than his father. Well, let's say… obsessive. “I just ran in the house and saw my dad towering over my mum and I don’t remember what happened but, I do remember my mum crying and my dad disappeared.”
Now Taehyung was lying through his teeth. He remembered clearly, almost like it was yesterday. He smashed the nearest bottle, pulled his mother away from the monster that scared her and stabbed him. Not just once, not twice but thirty-seven times. Hence the thirty seven tattoo on the palm of his right hand (the one he’d actually killed his father with). There was only Taehyung who knew what it meant, he counted every single time the broken glass pierced his father’s body, he counted with a smile on his face and a chuckle in his throat.
You were at a loss for words. Your mouth gaped in shock, eyes wide and your brain scrambled for the right thing to say. You reached over and grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers. His thumb running back and forth along your hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.” There was no way you could relate, your mother and father were happy and in love. They had the ideal relationship, one you wished for yourself. You could empathise though.
“You don’t need to be sorry baby, it’s in the past and I’ve moved on from it. I was like you though, poisoned by the roots that keep you on the ground even though you wanted nothing more than to break free and be no longer.” A silence fell over you both before Taehyung uttered, “I wasn’t successful with my attempt so now I’m here to help you.”
Warmth spread throughout your body, a smile graced your features as you no longer felt alone.
You had a completely different idea to what those words actually meant.
It was nearing the evening when Taehyung’s car had been fixed. Yoongi popped his head in the kitchen to tell him but stopped himself so as to not interrupt the scene before him. You were laughing along to whatever Taehyung was babbling about with your hand resting on his bicep, with that look in your eyes that he hadn’t seen for years. Yoongi felt himself smile as he saw you hanging onto Taehyung's every word.
For the first time in forever, you looked alive.
Yoongi cleared his throat which drew yours and Taehyung’s attention, “Sorry to interrupt guys. We’ve finished with your car so whenever you’re ready we’ll be outside.” The infamous gummy smile overtook his features, you felt yourself beam in return.
“Thanks man! I’ll be like, five minutes.”
Yoongi nodded his head in reply and swiftly left the room.
You’d taken Tae’s hand into yours, playing with the array of rings that occupied his fingers. Solemn thoughts overtook, am I not gonna see him again? Was this, whatever this is, over before it had even begun? Your eyes stayed on his hand as you turned it over and traced your finger over the inked ‘thirty seven’ on his palm. “What does this mean?”
Taehyung didn’t think twice before he practically beamed out, “It’s my lucky number.”
The difference was, it wasn’t really his lucky number… although he did see it that way. It was the number that had stayed with him. It was something he was proud of, whenever he looked at the hand that killed his father, his chest filled with pride and a joyous feeling overtook his senses. It was his first murder. Something he relished in and thus, created the onslaught of Jigsaw killings. He targeted a certain type— those whose sins would lock them up forever if they were ever found out. Racists, murderers, rapists, drug dealers, con-men. Authoritative figures who abused their power. He even went as far as subjecting suicidal people.
You see, things aren’t sequential. Good doesn’t lead to good, nor bad to bad. People who steal, don’t get caught, they live the good life. Others lie, cheat and get elected.
Some people would call it karma but Taehyung, he called it justice.
He’d started this with one thing on his mind— those that don’t appreciate life do not deserve it.
Whenever a serial killer was on the loose, the press did what they always did. They gave them a nickname. While the public had named the doll Billy. The actual killer was named ‘Jigsaw’.
This stemmed from the jigsaw piece that was cut from the victims skin, no one knew why he was doing it or what it even stood for.
It did have a meaning although unknown to the public.
The jigsaw piece that was cut from the subjects was only ever meant to be a symbol that that subject was missing something. A vital piece of the human puzzle. The survival instinct.
After all, until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.
Across town an underground abandoned warehouse, was where the next subject had found themselves.
They were suspended in the air, their feet merely dangling above the ground. The putrid smell of death lingered in every crevice, the sound of rats scurrying along the concrete floor filled their ears just as they began to stir awake.
A pain in their ribs was the overwhelming factor to them finally coming around. When they groggily opened their eyes, they were paralised with fear due to the scene in front of them.
A doll sat a few feet ahead, perched upon a tricycle. Adorned with a black suit and a red bowtie. A slow red light flashed in his eyes.
Billy.
Before the subject could even register how, when or why they found themselves trapped in a test, footsteps echoed behind them. The subject called out, “Help! Please, somebody help! I shouldn’t be here!”
A tsk reached their ears, as a disembodied voice replied, “Trust me, no one can hear you. Scream all you like. You’d just be wasting your breath, you may as well cherish it before it's gone.”
With hairs stood on end, the subject stilled. “What do you want from me?”
“I don’t want anything from you.” The man's footsteps grew louder. “I’m here to serve justice, that’s all.”
The man rounded the subject, settling in their view with only his cloaked back visible while he tended to the little doll. He touched Billy delicately—like he was a little child that he loved dearly. He combed his gloved hand through the doll's black hair and eventually pulled his fingers from the tresses to pat his head gently.
“You fucking psycho! Let me go!”
He couldn’t help but laugh at that which only infuriated the subject more causing them to shake in anger, a movement they soon ceased when they realised something was penetrating their ribs.
“I’d be very careful if I was you, we wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now… would we?” The cloaked figure spun around. An angry glint to his eye.
“What the fuck, you’re fucking crazy. Let me out, this isn’t right!” The subject tried their hardest to swing their legs, to somehow kick the man who’d imprisoned them.
“I think you’ll find it is right. You’re unworthy of the body you possess.” He inched closer, “see, when someone purposely intends to harm others, they lose their right to life.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
The man arched a brow as he replied, “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He felt like it was a game of cat and mouse except, he was a tiger and his subject, was the tiniest prey to mankind. “But, let me remind you! Since you can’t get your thick fucking head to work. You’re a liar, a cheater and an abuser. That ring any bells?”
The subject's face dropped.
“Ah, I see by your expression you know exactly what I’m talking about! Glad to see we’re on the same page.” He shrugged his cloak off placing it to the side of the doll. “I want to play a game.”
“What game? This isn’t a fucking game! You’re sick in the head you fucking cunt!”
The atmosphere shifted, the man remained calm while the subject went ballistic.
“What is this? What fucking game?”
“You feel the machine that’s currently occupying your ribs? Well, in about ten minutes that’s going to rip you apart. I’m proud to say that trap is my baby. I’ve been working on it especially for you! How nice is that?” he reached out to tug at the subject’s legs, tormenting them like a cat would a mouse. “Anyway, as my beautiful angel trap will rip you apart, my darling little friend Billy over here,” the subject followed the direction the man's hand pointed, “is going to match your face with the ugliness of your soul.”
“Fuck, fuck this! How do I stop it? Tell me how I fucking stop it!”
A boxy grin overtook the man's face, laughter poured from his mouth as he leaned over and slapped the subject’s leg. “This is a special game.”
“Who are you? What do you mean by ‘special game’?”
He raised himself so he stood tall and grabbed a knife from his pocket, “I’m the man you call Jigsaw.” He traced the tip of the knife along the subject’s ankle, “and when I say a special game… I mean you can’t get out.” While the subject was screaming in realisation, Taehyung walked back for his cloak, hung it over his shoulder and stalked off back the way he came. He sent one last smile to the subject as he rounded them and within the blink of an eye, he gripped the knife and slashed the subject’s achilles.
A chilling scream pierced the eerie atmosphere, the subject couldn’t string words together. Abundances of anxiety, terror and pure panic took reign of their body. Taehyung grabbed the injured muscles and forced his gloved fingers in as he gripped and twisted them, “That’s for Y/N.”
Taehyung had pressed the timer before he cut the subject’s tendons. He grabbed the tape from his pocket and threw it on the ground and with a chuckle he shouted, “Game over!”
Before he reached the end of the hallway, he heard the gunshots pierce his subjects face followed by the sound of the angel trap, even this far away Taehyung heard every crack of the ribs and the noise of the body being tore apart.
Without looking back, Taehyung rounded the corner and slammed the door shut.
He’d chosen the Angel trap for the irony, the subject that was currently hanging from the ceiling was no angel. They were a fucked up, evil, waste of space. Taehyung had done the world a favour, he’d done you a favour.
That got him thinking, how much blood would you shed in order to stay alive?
[a/n: who do we think was in the trap???👀]
#yandere taehyung#bts horror#dark bts#yandere bts#mafia bts#kim taehyung au#kim taehyung mafia#taehyung x reader#taehyung angst#bts angst#taehyung x you#kim taehyung x reader#yandere jin#yandere hoseok#yandere yoongi#yandere namjoon#yandere jungkook#yandere bts x reader#yandere au#bts fic#billyjigsaw!taehyung#john kramer!taehyung#billy kth au#un2verse#bts mafia au#taehyung scenarios#kim taehyung scenario#bts horror au
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Star Crossed Lovers (part 14)
Do my eyes deceive me???? part 14???? we did it. im so sorry its taken forever, i will try my best to be more consistent with my writing. love yall for being patient with me it means the most. thank you, thank you.
warnings: throughout this fic there will be mentions of substance abuse, homophobia, sexual abuse, violence, NSFW, mentions of abandonment, depression and death including suicide
reader discretion is advised
warnings: angst, swearing (lots of it)
taglist: @drmmyrs @cloud9in @somewillwin @save-me-the-last-dance @baexpoppy @stanzoeywade @ognenniyvolk @thepotatobleh @crazzyplays @fall3ngods @helpconfusedpersonhere @clowneryme @dopeyouth @boys-girls-i-cant-help-it-baby @vonda-b-real @uselesslesbianfr @veenast @cloakanddaggerthings @somethindarker (sorry again if ive missed anyone, if you wanna be added on this taglist or my general one just let me know 😊)
word count: 4k (i feel like its short considering how long it took me to write but i still hope you guys enjoy) (also i didnt check for grammatical errors properly so sorry if you find any)
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13
The first steps to moving on
“Bea please,” Poppy whispers, a repentant look creeping up to her face as she looks away from her girlfriend. “It can’t wait.”
Bea sighs, her shoulders slumping as the last remains of her anger disseminates from her body. “Okay fine, lead the way babe.”
Poppy stiffens that the pet name but she doesn’t let her awkwardness slip as she leads Bea to a secluded classroom, far away from prying eyes. Both her and Bea turn to look at each other, and both simultaneously open their mouths to talk.
“I know you wanted to tell-”
“We need to talk-”
Both clamp their lips shut, a mutual smile playing on their lips as they look at one another.
“You go first,” Poppy gestures towards Bea, as she moves to sit on the edge of a desk.
Bea inhales softly, her tongue darts out licking her lips as she looks down at the ground, her face calculating. “Why does Chloe hate me?” She looks up to Poppy, her eyes boring into the strawberry blonde’s, sadness swimming inside of them, “I just don’t get what I’ve done for her to hate me.”
Poppy sighs heavily, her eyes awkwardly darting away from Bea’s. “It’s complicated Bea.”
“Complicated?” Bea lets out a humourless laugh, “I almost just went off on Chloe after she gave her condolences for my mom dying because I just felt she wasn’t genuine and you wanna tell me it's complicated?”
Poppy sharply inhales, contemplating for a few moments before saying, “it’s because of your mom.”
Bea scrunches her brows up in confusion, “my mom? What the hell does she have to do with this?”
Poppy ineptly plays with her hands, not being able to look Bea in her eyes, “at first it was just a classist thing. When you first came to Belvoire, she just wanted to make herself feel superior over you, but in the last year you’ve noticed her getting more mean right?”
“Right.” Bea stares at Poppy, her expression emotionless.
“Chloe’s parents have been fighting non stop recently, and it’s been affecting her a lot.”
Bea’s brows furrow in confusion, “what does that have to do with me or my mom?”
“Just let me explain first before you react, please.” Bea’s eyes bore into Poppy’s for a few seconds before she nods understandingly. “Her dad cheated on her mom. A lot of times actually. But he was blackmailed by one of the women he slept with.” Poppy pauses for a few seconds, “your mom.”
Bea lets out a shaky breath, her eyes blinking in disbelief, “no, you’re lying.”
Poppy nervously bites her bottom lip, “look Bea-”
“How long have you known?”
Poppy’s face scrunches up in anger, “this isn’t my fault Bea. I only found out that day I went to talk to Chloe about us. Chloe made me promise not to say anything to you-”
“Poppy! My mom OD and I don’t even know why. And now you’re telling me she was blackmailing the St James family and it doesn’t occur to you that might have had something to do with her death?”
“They’re not the fucking mafia Bea, jesus. They were trying to settle it quietly by giving your mom some money and make her sign some stuff so she couldn't threaten them anymore.”
The devastating ramification of Poppy’s admission hangs in the air as the two girls let the words settle into them. “Chloe really is sorry about your mom Bea, we all are.”
Bea sighs, staring off into space, as a few tears begin to fill up in her eyes. “I just don’t know what to do.” Bea begins sniffling, but Poppy makes no movement to console her girlfriend. Bea notices and her expression sobers, “so, uh what did you wanna tell me?” Bea sniffs a few more times, before looking up at Poppy, giving her a small encouraging smile.
Poppy looks away, guilt creeping up on her face, as she tries her damndest not to catch Bea’s small smile on her face. “Bea…”. Bea carefully assesses her girlfriend’s demeanour, noticing the similar body language during when they first asked to take a break, she thinks back to the last couple of days, she had barely heard from her girlfriend, and now she’s not affectionate, even after she almost had a mental breakdown in the middle of the hallway and her smile drops. “We have to break up,” Poppy says, her tone so monotone and dry as if she didn’t mean the words she was saying at all.
“I don’t understand,” is all Bea can muster, evidently hurt by Poppy’s admission. Poppy winces slightly at Bea’s tone, finally breaking her robotic demeanour as she lets out a few sniffles. “So is that it? We have to break up,” Bea retorts mockingly, “is that all I get after all these years?”
“Bea..” Poppy reaches out but Bea immediately takes a step back, tears flooding in her eyes.
“No,” she holds her hands up, “I don’t get it, things are going good, or at least whatever twisted definition of good we’ve made up. Where the hell did this come from?”
“Bea my dad-”
“Of course! Hayden Min fucking Sinclair had something to do with this. Why do you still live under his shadow? You talk all this shit about breaking out of your father’s prison and wanting to achieve your own goals but he sucks you back in.”
“That’s not fair Bea,” Poppy interjects, balling her hands up into fists in an attempt to subdue her trembling, “my dad has given me so much and he’s threatening to take it all away.”
“Yeah, all you have to do is get rid of me. Me or the Min Sinclair name.”
“Bea this is the life I have, okay I’m not like you, I’m not built like you.”
“So what? I can grow up without a dad and now without a mom but it’s okay because I’m used to pain and disappointment?”
“I didn’t mean it like that, you have a plan, things you can achieve, I need the Min Sinclair name, I’m nothing without it.”
“Wow.” Bea shakes her head, “So I just meant nothing?” Bea wildy throws her arms in the air, anger bubbling under the surface of her demeanour. “We’ve practically been together since we were kids. And you’re just gonna fucking throw that away? And for what? Fuck you Poppy.”
Poppy takes half a step back, dumbfounded by Bea’s outburst. She scrunches her brows, evidently hurt, “you don’t get it Bea. Even though your mom wasn’t the best, she still supported you, even if you didn’t know about it. My dad he- my mom what would she think?”
“Your mom? Poppy what kind of shit is your dad brainwashing you with? Your mom is dead! You have no idea how she would react to having a gay daughter, but I know she’s probably disappointed in you.”
“Fuck you Bea.”Poppy runs out of the classroom, tears streaming down her face, leaving Bea on her own.
“Shit,” Bea whispers to herself before throwing a bunch of punches at the wall, each more cathartic than the last until she can’t physically hold herself up anymore. Bea defeatedly slides into a chair, cradling her head in between her hands, letting the tears free fall, as reality begins setting in that she lost the one thing in the world that was her everything. Poppy Min Sinclair was her rock, the girl who she gave her heart to, the love of her life and just in a matter of moments it was over. Maybe it was too good to be true. The beautiful, perky popular rich girl and the girl who had almost nothing, complete polar opposites, it never should’ve worked. But time and time again when faced against the world they persevered so why was this time different? Poppy had chosen her namesake over the love of her life. She chose the life of glitz and glamour over the girl who gave her her entire heart. Bea feels her entire world crashing down, how much more heartbreak could she take? Was her life always going to be so hard? So full of hurt? Full of pain? She winces at the thought, her head hammering as she comes to the realisation that she understood her mother’s pain more than she thought.
….
Bea hops off her bike, parking it in front of her house, as she pulls her phone out to look at the time. ‘It’s lunch time,’ she thinks to herself. After the day she had today, school wasn’t the best option for her right now. She makes her way to her front door but stops in her tracks when she realises her front door is slightly ajar. Her survival instincts kick in as she effortlessly pulls out her pocket knife, carefully pushing the door fully open. As she steps into the living room, her eyes dart to the closed door of her mother’s room, but when she hears a creaking sound coming towards her bedroom, she cautiously moves towards the source of the noise, the grip on her knife tightening. As she creeps up, she sees the door of her room half opened, a hooded figure standing by her bed with their back facing her.
Bea stealthily sneaks up to the figure placing the knife a few inches from their throat before lowering her voice to a threatening tone, “who are you and what the fuck are you doing?” The figure gasps, dropping a bag that’s in their hands with a deafening thud before raising their hands in a sign of surrender.
“It’s me, it’s me,” the voice whimpers out.
“AJ?” Bea raises her eyebrows, retracting the knife from his throat while pulling down his hood with her other hand. “What the fuck are you doing?” Bea takes a step back while AJ scrambles grabbing the bag he just dropped moments before. When he turns to face Bea, his eyes are wide, filled with fear as he clutches the bag closely to his chest.
“I have to go,” he says as he attempts to run out of the room, but Bea pulls him back, her face crumpled in suspicion.
“No we’re not doing this, give me the bag now,” Bea snatches the bag out of his hands before he can protest and opens the zipper to find it filled with cash. She grits her teeth, anger settling into her features as she whips her head up to AJ, “is this my fucking money?”
“Bea, I- I can explain-”
“What the fuck AJ!” Bea throws the bag onto the bed, the cash spilling out as she jabs an accusing finger at AJ’s chest. “You’re stealing from me now? I haven’t seen you in god knows how long, you don’t call, text nothing. Even after everything that’s been happening in the last few weeks but you have the audacity to fucking steal from me? Money that I’ve spent years saving? Money that I’ve bussed my fucking ass off for, are you serious right now?” Bea’s voice is filled with rage as she’s practically screaming, her voice now thundering. AJ winces, guiltily averting his gaze to the ground, unable to meet Bea’s eyes.
“I’m sorry about your mom Bea, I wanted to visit-” AJ croaks out.
“But you didn’t,” Bea interjects, her voice lowered but filled with hurt. “And now you’re taking money- I mean what is so important you had to steal from me.”
AJ paces towards the bed, hanging his head in shame, when he speaks his voice is quiet, full of fear, “I’m in some bad shit Bea. These guys aren’t playing around.”
“I told you not to fall into the wrong crowd, I warned you this shit would happen.”
“Bea please, I’ll pay you back I just need it.”
“No! What the fuck, when will you pay me back huh? This is my college money, I’m not letting you give that away to your crackhead friends.”
“Bea please,” AJ clasps his hands together, his tone pleading, “I don’t know what to do.”
“AJ I have too much shit on my plate right now, I can’t deal with this. You need to find something else, I can’t help you.”
AJ’s face pales but he stands up, and makes his way towards the door, before leaving he turns to look back at Bea, “I’m sorry about everything.”
Bea keeps her eyes trained on her bed where the money is sprawled all over the mattress, “yeah me too,” she replies quietly. Bea hears the front door close and she collapses to the ground, letting the tears flow.
……
A few days later, Bea sits in her dark living room, curtains shut and lights completely off as she wallows in her sadness, drinking from a bottle of cheap beer, as she stares absentmindedly at the ceiling, so drowned in her thoughts she doesn’t hear the resounding knocks on her door until she hears a voice call out, “Bea! Are you there?”
Bea crumples her brows, forcing herself to stand as she makes her way to the door, she wearily makes her way to her front door only slightly opening the door before poking her head out. “Veronica?” Veronica gives the girl a wide smile before pushing the door more open, ushering the figure behind her into the house too, “Carter? What are you guys doing here?’
Veronica looks around the dark room, noticing the pile of empty beer bottles on the floor, “yikes, drinking on your own on a friday night Hughes? That’s really sad.” Carter stands near the edge of the living room, as if he’s an explorer, his eyes darting all over the living room as he assesses this new environment.
Bea on the other hand scowls at Veronica, “what the hell do you want Veronica, I’m not in the mood.”
Veronica frowns slightly, pouting her lips together, “we heard about you and Poppy.”
Bea rolls her eyes, “yeah well I’m trying to forget about her.” Bea picks up her beer bottle from the ground and makes a show by exaggeratingly drinking from the bottle until it's empty. She discards the empty bottle along with the other ones before turning to look at Veronica and Carter, “so if you’ll excuse me.”
Veronica steps towards Bea, wrapping her hand around the brunette’s arm, “we’re not here for Poppy stupid, we’re here for you.”
Bea raises an eyebrow, “for me?”
Veronica turns to look at Carter, beckoning him forward, Carter breaks out of reverie and clears his throat, “yeah uh, we wanted to take you to a party.”
“A party?” Bea looks between them confused, “I’m not that interested guys.”
“Wait, wait, wait Bea,” Veronica pleads, pulling Bea closer to her, “you’ve never been to a Belvoire party and the year is almost over, we thought we should take you to at least.”
“I don’t know guys,” Bea says skeptically, “a lot of people don’t like me.”
“Who gives a shit? You just had your heart broken and you need to let loose.”
Bea sighs, pulling away from Veronica, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Come on, it beats drinking in the dark on your own.”
Bea sighs, dropping her shoulders, “what about uh Poppy?”
“Poppy?” Veronica arches a brow, “her and Chloe are staying in tonight, she said she needed to catch up on homework or something.”
Bea purses her lips together in thought before sighing, “fine.” Veronica cheers, “but,” Bea over enunciates, “only for a few hours and if I don’t like it I’m going home.”
“Okay, deal,” Veronica squeals, wrapping Bea in a big hug. Carter chuckles as Veronica gestures for him to join the hug, he awkwardly wraps his arms around the two girls, before pulling away.
“Okay, I’ll wait in the car while you girls get ready. Just uh don’t take too long.”
Veronica playfully rolls her eyes as she Bea towards her bedroom, yelling back “thanks Carter.” Giddy, she rushes to Bea’s closest, assessing her clothes until she finds a short red dress hidden in the back. “This!”
“No, no, no,” Bea shakes her head, pulling the dress out of the ombre-haired girl’s hands.
“Why not? It would look so hot on you,” Veronica’s eyes trail down Bea’s body, as she sharply inhales. “Bea, you’re single and sexy, stop holding yourself back okay?”
“I’m not,” Bea pushes back defensively, “I just-” she sighs heavily, “no one at Belvoire has ever seen me dressed up, I’m just- I’m nervous I guess.”
“Then we have to show them what they’ve been missing for the last three years,” Veronica gives Bea a devilish smile as she takes the dress from Bea’s hands, sliding the dress off the hanger before handing it over to Bea.
“Uh you gonna stay in the room?” Bea nervously wrings her hands together.
“Why, are you offering a show?” Veronica lifts a teasing brow, noticing Bea’s cheeks redden slightly, which prompts her to let out a small laugh, “I’m kidding, don’t worry I won’t look.” Veronica makes a show of raising her hands to cover her eyes. Bea laughs as she slips out of her clothes and into the dress, she awkwardly clears her throat, grabbing Veronica’s attention.
“Hey, uh help a girl out with her zipper?”
“Sure,” Veronica moves to stand behind Bea, her hands ghosting around Bea’s exposed back, her breath momentarily taken away. She sturdies herself and places one of her hands on the small of the brunette’s back while the other moves towards the zipper, zipping the girl up. Bea smooths the dress down with her hands appreciating herself in the mirror, “you look gorgeous,” Veronica whispers into the shell of her ear.
Bea’s face completely flushes red and slightly jerks at Veronica’s admission, “uhh thanks.”
Veronica notices the awkward shift in the atmosphere, and promptly changes the subject, “so where’s your sister?”
Bea sits in front of her mirror, a comb in her hand as she brushes her long locks, “she’s staying at a friend’s tonight.”
“Cool,” Veronica answers back but her tone falls flat. The girls bask in the awkward silence as Bea continues to get ready but when Veronica notices Bea struggling to do her winged eyeliner she breaks the silence. “Hey do you need help?”
Bea smiles bashfully, “yeah.” She rubs the back of her head with her hand, “sorry Poppy used to help me with my makeup.”
“Right,” Veronica’s face slightly falls but she quickly covers it up, ushering Bea to come and sit on the bed. “Come on, I don’t bite,” Veronica bites the bottom of her lip, “unless you want me too.” Bea laughs but obliges sitting on the edge of the bed. Veronica clambers onto her lap, her thighs settling on the sides of Bea’s legs, and in response, Bea’s eyes widen in surprise but she remains glued in her spot, too shocked to move.
“V, what are you doing?” Bea whispers, her voice attempting to come across as reprimanding but it comes out as breathy.
“Relax, I’m just doing your eyeliner.” Veronica plucks the wand from Bea’s hand and angles herself close to the brunette’s face, as she begins drawing on the wings on Bea’s eyelids. Bea steadies herself, as she feels the heat of Veronica’s body so close to hers and when Veronica is finished with putting the finishing touches on her eyelids, she hops off Bea’s lap, making her way towards the desk, scuffling through Bea’s makeup bag before taking up her place on Bea’s lap once again. “Now I think this colour would look good on you,”
“You don’t think it’s too much red?”
“Oh babe, red means power, dominance, you don’t wanna be thinking about Poppy the entire night, you wanna have all eyes on you Bea Hughes.” Veronica uncaps the lipstick, her eyes burning into Bea’s lips as she carefully applies the red colour to her lips. “Perfect.”
Bea smacks her lips together, evenly spreading the red on her lips. “Thanks V.”
Veronica’s eyes dart to Bea’s lips, her tongue slightly running along her bottom lips before she breaks out of her reverie flashing Bea a smirk, “don’t thank me yet, thank me when you’re having the time of your life at the party.” Veronica slides off Bea’s lap, holding her hand out, “come on let’s finish up because Carter’s been waiting for a while.” Bea smiles up at Veronica, taking her hand as she lets the ombre-haired girl pull her off the bed, as they continue getting ready.
………
Once they arrive at the party, Carter drops the girls off at the front of the huge house before telling them he will park the car. Veronica’s gaze darts to Bea, who’s nervously toying with her hands, looking up at the intimidating house, the lights blaring and as the music echoes throughout, the bass thumping in their ears. Noticing the nerves settling into her, Veronica slips into Bea's, giving her a reassuring squeeze, “hey, it’s okay, it’s just a bunch of drunk, preppy uptight teenagers, nothing you don't usually face everyday.”
Bea lets out a small laugh, “just in a big ass house,” she jests.
“Yeah, just in a big ass house,” she gives Bea a light squeeze as she starts pulling Bea into the house with her. Automatically, they’re met with stares and whispers, as the students look astonished at Bea, some appraising her outfit, while others are confused about her presence. “Hey, just stay with me okay?” Veronica whispers over to Bea. Bea nods, her eyes roaming the room. “I’ll get us drinks.” The ombre-haired girl gives Bea a reassuring pat on her arm and leaves her side and Bea walks into the living room, observing the difference between the vibes of the party between the north and the south. Her thoughts then move to think about Poppy, how Poppy would love going to parties in the north but Bea couldn’t find the appeal in it. Poppy. Poppy, who broke up with her. She’s interrupted from her thoughts by a tap of her shoulder, and Bea turns around to see Veronica offering her a red solo cup, Bea takes a sip and winces.
“What the hell is this crap?”
“Yeah for a bunch of rich kids, their taste in beer isn’t the best,” Veronica jokes, slightly nudging Bea.
“We have way better beer in the south side.”
“That I can agree with.” Veronica looks over to Bea who looks lost in thought, “hey what are you thinking about?”
Bea sighs heavily, “Poppy,” she mutters.
Veronica nods once, “right, yeah.”
“Poppy would’ve loved a party like this, big fancy house an-”
“Bea,” Veronica says, her tone slightly agitated, “this,” she gestures around the room, “is a no Poppy zone. That means we don’t think about Poppy, only about fun.”
Bea nods, “fun. I can do that.” Veronica lifts her cup in the air, “what are we cheering to?”
Veronica gives Bea a smile, “here’s to the first steps in moving on.” The girls tap their cups together before downing their drinks. “Now if we wanna get drunk, we’re gonna need a lot more of these.”
The party is still ongoing, and Bea sits in a circle with a few girls from the volleyball team and a few of the football team and other people she doesn’t recognise while Veronica sits beside her.
“Bea you look so pretty,” one of her teammates says.
“Yeah Bea your makeup is literally gorgeous,” another chimes in.
“Who knew strip tease can clean up well,” Ford jests, but Bea slumps her shoulders a little, remembering that these people are not her friends.
Carter enters the circle slapping Ford on the head as he goes, “shut up, Hughes is cool.” Bea gives Carter a nod of appreciation before looking down at the drink in her hands. Her thoughts move a million miles a minute, but there’s a constant one stuck in her brain, Poppy.
Veronica looks over at Bea, frowning. “Hey come with me.” She stands, excusing herself from the group and Bea follows her close behind.
“Where are we going?”
“We’re gonna play a private game of truth or drink.”
#playchoices#queen b#poppy min sinclair#poppy x mc#star crossed lovers#thank you for waiting#i promise to be more consistent#love you guys
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HC: Call This The ‘Can This Man Cook’ Section
(….. I don’t think these men can cook 😔)
First post pog :D I wrote a majority of these super late at night, so please forgive and let me know of any mistakes you find <3 Also, it’s a little long lol
Characters: Dream, George, SapNap, Badboyhalo, Wilbur, Technoblade, Philza, Quackity, Fundy, Schlatt.
Warnings: None, except for a kinda risqué comment in Philza’s. Oh and I guess there’s mentions of eating meat in case someone wants the warning :3
Song Recommendation: I Love You So- The Walters
Hella fluffy! Hope you enjoy <3
From best to worst:
#1: BadBoyHalo-
Bad is the best at cooking on the server. He is the creme of the crop, absolute top one percent, king shit at cooking.
He can cook, bake, and temper chocolate perfectly, what more could you want?
His favorite to-go recipes are cheesy garlic bread and a special spicy chicken and rice recipe which he typically makes when the boys are over at his house for the night. When he’s with you he goes for something a little smoother, some mulled sweet berry cider with a smoked cod fillet, eaten under the light of candles while you quietly chat about life and your fellow friends. It’s always one of Bad’s most anticipated hangouts, and he’s very careful about planning when it comes to those days.
While he appreciates being complimented on his food or his skills, deep down he wants to have someone to cook and share his knowledge with so the cooking process becomes much richer. He’s cooked for so long and learned so much, but it means nothing if he can’t share it with another person. The moment you come to him and ask him for help on any kind of recipe, he’ll drop almost everything to help you.
Side note; he absolutely carried lunch and dinner for his fellow DTeam members. While Sapnap would mostly take over breakfast, Bad would be hounded by begging puppy looks from these adult men who couldn’t cook and kind of just sigh and get the ‘kiss the cook’ apron ready. It’s not like he hates it or anything, but the endearing factor kinda slips off after a few years of adult men groveling.
(Bad’s hands rest over yours, dwarfing them entirely as he helps you cut the pasta sheet straightly. “There you go!” He encourages, squeezing your hand gently and stepping away, moving back to dice the vegetables on the cutting board next to you. A comfortable silence falls, and with it comes something in Bad’s heart softening. The worries and exhaustion in his mind ease, and he slips into a contented routine of finely chopping and slicing. It’s been a while since he’s felt so calm. There’s nothing that can ruin this-
The front door slams open. Footsteps walk in and approach the kitchen and you both hear it,
“Baaaaaaaaad.” Bad cringes, taking a step back.
“Baaaaaaaaaaad, we’re hungry.” Sapnap.
“Yeah Bad, feeeeeeeed uuuuuuus.” George.
And then, from around the door frame, a white mask peeks in. Nobody says a word, but you can feel Bad deflate next to you like let go balloon.
“It’s alright, big guy.” You laugh, grabbing his forearm and leaning up against him. His sad puppy eyes make you smile a little, and you try to reassure him. “We can hang out alone another time. Let’s keep working on the pasta.” He sighs, but still returns your smile. “Yeah, another time.”)
#2: Philza
Sigh…. he can cook. Not quite as good as Bad can, but better than Quackity. A solid second place. It stems mainly from being so knowledgeable that he just knows and has tried so many different foods, but since he doesn't actually do much cooking, I'm making him a flaky second place.
Doesn’t mind cooking, but doesn’t love doing it either. He’s always focused on so many different things that he’ll forgo eating to keep working on what he’s doing. He mostly cooks for Techno and Ranboo or the few guests (you) they seem to receive. Makes great stew, and even better roasted chicken, is absolutely immaculate when it comes to cooking bird.
He didn’t teach Wilbur or Techno shit! I wish I could say it’s because he wanted to but just couldn’t, but he was literally like “hmm. Im a little busy now, maybe next year” every year!! But, this being said, if you ask him to make something with you or teach you how to cook a particular dish, he will agree to help you. Old age has really mellowed him out, and after certain events, he realizes he needs to stay a bit closer to those he cares about from now on.
He likes sweets well enough, and will always thank you for any gifts you make for him. Along with growing older, he’s had time to lose his pickiness he had in his youth. If he does end up cooking with you, he’ll prefer doing the harder recipes over easy ones. He will lose it laughing if it turns out bad, so don’t worry about any disappointment (his children make up enough of that ^^).
(“Now,” Phil starts, washing his hands quickly as you wait for him next to the cutting board. “Pufferfish needs to be prepared perfectly, or we will die when we eat it. But I don’t need to explain to you how a pufferfish works, now do I?”
When you shake your head no, he comes up behind you, tarnished wings bound and hair pulled up in a pony tail.
“The meat of a pufferfish is very delectable, and much better with a glass of wine.” He grins cheekily, “ If this works out well, which I’m sure it will, dinner will be delicious.”
It falls quiet for a second, and as your hesitantly looking over the fish that may be your last, you gasp when you feel him press up against you back and rest his chin on your shoulder. “Maybe there’ll be other delicious things to eat as well,” He murmurs into you ear, before leaning back and busting out laughing. Your face feels stupidly hot. Dilfza quest activated.)
#3: Quackity-
Quackity:
Quackity can cook. I know!! I’d say he’s like the third best cooker on the list. And he’s not half bad at baking either.
He likes making up stupid bad recipes and trying them out with you, even if at the end of it the one of you up chucks your damned creations the hour after. Despite his reigning need for chaos though, he knows how to make a decent amount of recipes and strives for praise when he’s actually putting forward effort. He’ll arrange little dinner dates (“A handsome man and his very pretty friend, good food made by yours truly, and La Chona, what do you say, baby?”) and will sit there with a 🥺 look on his face until you tell him if you liked it or not.
He tries to act like he’s unaffected by your words, but even a small, “That was really good.” will make him turn red and giggle like a schoolgirl. He tries to play it off, but it’s easy to tell he loves the complements. Will also never tell you anything you make is bad. You are a deity descended upon minecraft Earth and he is but your prettiest disciple who will uphold your honor and treat you like you should be treated!!!! But he’ll then promptly choose to help you with and guide you into cooking/baking better ^^; He loves you!
As for baking, he really likes making cakes because of how simple they can be. It helps calm him down when he can just slip into bake mode and follow a recipe and make something nice at the end of it. Speaking of, he also has a sweet tooth, but not quite as bad as Techno does. Any sweets or food you make for him is always eaten, and always held in high regard. Will try to entice you into feeding him 👀👀 so watch out.
(He’s doing it again. You try to avoid looking directly at the dopey lovesick smile Quackity has on his face at the moment, but as you lift the fork up, you get a better idea.
You look at him (to which he seems to melt a little under your gaze), look at the fork, and then back to him, raising the piece of cake up to his lips. His expression turns flabbergasted and his blush deepens.
He doesn’t seem to believe you for a second, until you nudge the cake close and flash him a smile. Then it’s like a switch has been flicked; he giggles, blushing, and eats the cake right off the fork. He’s gone back to smiling that silly smile again, this time even brighter, but it’s okay. You try to ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest when he begs you for another piece.)
#4: Schlatt-
Another cooker~! He specializes with formal dinners more than anything else, and adores a good steak.
During his presidency, he didn’t cook very often. Quackity and you had to keep him fed through most of it, and the memory of watching you cook in his kitchen while he looked over work papers at his dining table leaves a mark on him, sealing a new crave for domesticity that he hadn’t ever wanted before.
Sometimes he would cook though. You, Quackity, and Tubbo would all gather around and eat together every once in a blue moon, when Schlatt was sober and calm. It feels tense at the table but also not in a way? Schlatt always seems to be chillest during dinner, a mix of the alcohol wearing off and the emphatic family feel that comes with Tubbo, Quackity, and you surrounding him.
He loves cake! It’s one of the few desserts he’ll eat, but you have to watch him closely or he’ll gorge himself of the treat. Indulge him and invite him to make a cake with you, and it will be one of the most interesting bakes of your life. How Schlatt got three eggs to stick to the ceiling is beyond you, but the look in his eyes tells you he’s completely fucking sober and hamming up his own cluelessness. You probably wouldn’t have even noticed if it weren’t for him hiding all the other eggs around your kitchen as well. How did he get one on the top of your door without it falling when you opened it? That’s between him and god.
Overall, a good 4th place on the list.
(“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Schlatt says, deadpanned, looking you right in the fucking eyes with an undisturbed egg sitting perfectly straight on his head.
“Where are the eggs, Schlatt.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Schlatt.”
“Yes.”
The container you kept them in is completely empty on your kitchen counter, once full of eggs but now reduced to a desolate husk of its former glory. Speaking of former glories, your president turns around, arms crossed and stands there silently.
You look around. Theres one in the door handle of in the pantry, another wedged between two slices of bread in your bread box, and- oh god. On the fucking ceiling. Three, stuck to the ceiling, unmovable. After a full minute of dead silence you manage a “What the fuck have you done?”, and Schlatt turns to look.
“Oh hey. There they are.” Your mind turns into a rock, shatters, and crumbles into dust.)
#5: Dream-
Honestly if you’re looking for edible food that tastes range from ok to good Dream is your man. 5th place.
He knows a lot of ‘depression era’ type recipes just because he’s pretty homeless and his man hunts don’t allow him much time to hone his skills. Stuff like bread or mushroom stew comes easy to him after so many times of having to do it on the run. Bread is the only baking he won’t screw up.
Can cook meat well enough too, but doesn’t really do anything special to it (besides his sauces).
To elaborate: Over the unknown span of his life, he’s acquired these recipes for forgotten and questionable sauces that he’ll store in little jars and leave at your house for you to use. They’re odd, and the ingredients aren’t ever what you think might be edible, but they’re surprisingly tasty none the less. He likes to show you a new one every month or so to keep things fresh.
Pretty general about sweets, but has a severe love for chocolate, especially dark chocolate. Has never had one, but dreams about chocolate cake. It’s high on his bucket list and written another four times over.
One of his favorite things to do with you is bake, mainly because of how ruinous it always turns out. No matter your skill, Dream’s vibes decimates any luck the two of you will have while baking. It’s scientifically proven. You left the cupcakes in for a minute-JUST a minute over what they should’ve been and they came out rock solid. Dream tried to eat one anyway. Best part was watching him try to bite through the shell.)
(He thinks he’s over selling it, half-gnawing on the brown cupcake (it was supposed to be vanilla, he thought) and making stupid growls when his teeth barely break through the surface, but the feeling he gets when you start laughing hysterically next to him wipes away any negative thought he had and fills him with utter joy.
It's very late into the night, and you’re both a little loopy, but all the while you still lean against him as you giggle, the spot tingling where your hand rests on his arm.
His heart thumps crazily, before sinking. Oh god. He’s in love with you.)
#6: Technoblade-
Knows a lot, but very little. He can cook the meat perfectly fine, but there’s a difference between being cooked and tasting good. He doesn’t know how to season them. Salt is the bare minimum you get.
6th place ^^; sorry king.
He’s good with potatoes though. I like to think that the countless hours spent potato farming had to account for something. He likes having cheese and butter on them every once in a while, but for the most part just eats them salted like an animal. It’s practically a show to watch him eat a cooked potato in three bites without anything but salt on it.
Big man loves food though, even if he doesn’t eat like it. Steak and cooked fish are high on his list of foods, but only if it’s cooked by Philza. And eventually you fall into his “I trust to eat this from you” category as well, but he has a special place in his heart for Phil’s cooking. Rabbit stew is at the very top.
He also eats a lot, being 6’10 and 200 something pounds of muscle, gotta consume quite a bit to keep him moving.
As for the sweeter variety of food, he’s got a massive sweet tooth. The moment you make him an apple pie or honey candy or anything of the like, he’s immediately enamored with you. Sweet things are hard to come by on the smp, especially with how far out he lives, but it’s a secret weakness of his that is very easily exploitable.
(You’ll be the death of him, he thinks, watching you closely as you trudge your way through the freshly fallen snow towards his house. Your normal pack is lighter than it usually looks, and he worries that you may slip and hurt yourself on the ice before you make it to the door. But still, you keep walking until you're standing at his doorstep, fist raised to knock when he opens it for you.
You look surprised for a second, and then a grin splits your face and his heart races.
“I can’t stay for long,” you say, having spent at least 30 minutes to get there. “But I wanted to drop this off for you before you went out to hunt again.”
Out of the bag, you pull another smaller leather bag and hand it to him gently. It rests heavy in his palm, and for a moment he’s sure it’s ender pearls that you’ve brought him. But still he opens it, and he’s immediately taken aback by the smooth golden candies you brought him.
“They’re honey candies.” At this point you’re practically grinning. “I thought you might like some while I was making them last night.”
He doesn’t have to see his own face to feel the deep blush setting in on his cheeks and ears. You…. you’re so…… sweet. You are very…. sweet, he admits to himself, and he is very not attached to you. Not at all.)
#7: Fundy and Sapnap tie.
Fundy-
Has his old man's cluelessness but is a fast learner. He doesn’t have much time to expand his food repertoire so it’s pretty much the basic stuff that he’s eaten during the war or before that when he was younger.
He really likes cooking though, and will invite you to come cook with him for dinner or lunch if he wants to hang out. When they were together, Dream had given him an old dusty cookbook that had several recipes he hadn’t ever heard of before, so that’s where most of what he tries to make comes from. His favorite to date was a special mutton dish that he asked you to try with him on his last birthday. It was just the two of you, but he had never had so much fun before.
Doesn’t like eating fish however, there’s just some bad vibe he gets when he thinks about cooking one or catching one. (Desperately ignores the fish fucker. Desperately ignores the fish fucker. Despera-)
Loves sweet berries as treats, seeing as that’s the only sweet thing he grew up with. Not too big on other sweet flavors. Likes honey in his tea though.
7th place cooker, will get higher as he learns more dishes.
(He raises his wine high with a laugh, clinking your glass with it as you both giggle drunkenly.
The lamb you had cooked together turned out amazing, juicy and tender and flavored with crimson fungus juice. The recipe was from an old cookbook he had, he faintly remembers telling you, hiding the fact that it was Dream’s cookbook that he was given after a particularly nasty argument.
He doesn’t want to think about him, especially not while he’s with you. Especially not when it’s his birthday.
So instead he ponders the trip through the nether he took with you to harvest some of the fungi, how the juice was tangy and slightly bitter, but how it had done wonders when basted onto the meat while frying.
You had looked so happy when you two plated the dish, so proud of him, all in a way that Dream never was.
Even now, as you tiredly smile at him from across the table, cheeks pink and eyes focused solely on the moment you were sharing, he feels at peace for once. This is what contentment felt like. Oh, how he loves you so.)
Sapnap-
Shame the shit cooker. Ok ok, he’s not as bad as some of the others on this list, but that’s just because he can make a half decent breakfast. It’s not much competition.
Bad has desperately tried to teach this boy some cooking besides eggs and toast, but the only things that seem to have stuck are mashed potatoes and grilled pork chops. Neither of which he even likes enough to make often.
He prefers fish to meat, and would eat any kind of cod you offered to him. Likes smoked salmon a lot, it’s something Bad made for him a lot when he was younger. He tries to recreate the dish, but comes up short and feels disheartened when it isn’t like Bad’s. He’d appreciate any time you took with him to learn how to make the dish, and it wholly sticks to his mind afterwards. He never forgets the experience, and treasures it very closely.
Likes not-sweet sweets. Not bitter per say, but just not very sweet. He likes chewy taffy in particular, but the old lady kind that lasts 60 years but gets hard in 6 minutes after being exposed to open air. Gotta be polite about it too, or he’ll end up embarrassed and pout for an hour.
(He’s eaten 6 of those fucking taffies since you sat down on the couch, completely straight-faced as the two of you of you listen to Dream and George talking.
At this point you’re completely checked out of their conversation, solely focused on the taffy Sapnap keeps eating. Where does he even get those? How many does he have?? You’ve been friends with him long enough to have seen him pop a taffy every other second of the day. He seems to have a stash on him at all times tucked away, filled with paper-wrapped pastel covered sweets.
“Want one?” Sapnap asks, holding out a light blue taffy with a little star drawn in yellow dye on the wrapper.
“What?” Startled, you lean back a bit and realize you had been staring him down as he ate, and flush with how rude that probably seemed.
“Want a taffy? I don’t mind sharing with you, cutie.” He winks and offers the taffy again. “....” You gaze at the taffy curiously. You’ve never seen him offer another person one of his precious taffies before. Hmm. “...Yes, thanks.”
You take it delicately, unwrapping the wrapper and taking a bite of it experimentally. It’s very lightly sweet, soft and chewy and surprisingly pleasant.
Sapnap watches you from the corner of his eye, softly smiling when he sees you eat the rest of it. Glad to see someone else has good tastes around here.)
#8. George-
Meager man makes a meager meal. I said what I said!!! This flatbread boy knows diddly squat, and the only things he can cook successfully are bread and mushroom soup. Which he will make. And that’s all he’ll make. Any food that isn’t that is cooked by either Bad or Dream, and he’s still picky about it.
He’ll make you the soup and bread ladies and gents. I’m not saying they’ll taste great together, but he will definitely make them for you. Anything else he’s pretty critical about, and he doesn’t care much for treats or dessert. He does occasionally like dark chocolate though, which he and Dream will beg Bad to make for them. Soon he begs you to make it for him, and then you have to go ask Bad how he makes it so George won’t complain about how it tastes different from Bads. It’s a weird situation. You make a lot of chocolate. Dream and George linger at your house for weeks on end until you get fed up and shoo them away with a broom.
To his credit, even though he can’t cook much, he’s really proud of his mushroom stew. Any time you let him cook, his go-to is his mushroom stew. He likes to feed you and know that you’re not hungry somewhere, and to top it off he gets to show you his prized dish; not Bad’s or Dream’s stew, but his. He’s cute or whateva…
(George places the bowl down in front you, stepping back and turning to grab his own, before sitting down next to you. He immediately begins to eat, and you give him a half glance as you bring the soup up to smell it.
It… doesn’t smell that bad, actually. Not burnt, at least. You spoon some of the soup into your mouth.
Despite all you’ve seen of George’s cooking, this is pretty well made. It’s nice and warm, and the flavors are rich and the mushrooms soft. You choose to ignore the small smile of his face next to you, and keep eating your soup quietly together.)
#9: Wilbur
Wilbur can’t cook for shit. Literally nothing. This man knows apples grow from trees and that animals are made of meat and that’s it.
You think Wilbur made any of his food when he was president or exiled or ever? Not a chance. He ate anything given to him, Tubbo and Tommy absolutely brought this man all the food they could find so he wouldn’t get eat straight trash or starve throughout the presidency. Techno slid him bare cooked potatoes in Pogtopia and he thought “oh this slaps….. this is the pinnacle of food”
Which I know, not really sexy. But! This means that the moment you feed him something a step up from a bare cooked potato he is in food heaven. He especially loves saucier kinds of foods with lots of flavor and spice to them, it’s just so fucking good. Food becomes his kryptonite after you feed this silly man.
With sweets, however, he isn’t that much of a fan. He does like those small lemon creme crackers, and you and da boys are the only ppl he’ll share them with.
(You hear him before you see him. The familiar clambering at your window draws your attention away from the pork you were dicing, and one look over your shoulder shows a disheveled but grinning Wilbur.
“I hope I’m not too late for dinner.” He jokes, brushing off his pants before approaching you to press a kiss to your temple. Soon after that you hear another set of clambering, and two pairs of stomps reveals one Tommy and one Tubbo respectively.
“What’s for dinner tonight, mate?”
“Hope you don’t mind if we join in!”
You sigh, turning back to hide your smile before they can see it.)
// Hope you enjoyed! I might write a pt2 of this later with some other ppl in it lol we’ll see :3
#mcyt x reader#c: dream#c: george#c: sapnap#c: badboyhalo#c: wilbur#c: technoblade#c: philza#c: quackity#c: fundy#c: schlatt#hc#hc: call this the 'can they cook section'#pt1 maybe ;3#fluff#rada rada#dream x reader#georgenotfound x reader#sapnap x reader#badboyhalo x reader#technoblade x reader#wilbur soot x reader#philza x reader#quackity x reader#fundy x reader#schlatt x reader
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Heatwave Anniversary Drabble: i miss u like ... a lot (M)
[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles] <- read first! but this drabble can be read alone
Pairing: Taehyung x reader
Summary: One night until Taehyung is back from his boys’ trip but you miss him too much.
Genre: fluff, smut, kinda crack?, boyfriend/established relationship au
Warnings: unprotected sex (oc on contraception so don’t u do it), teasing over the phone, riding and grinding, just kinda vanilla i-missed-u-so-much sex, a particular selca
Word count: 5k
A/N: It was Heatwave’s one year anniversay on the 17th so I decided to write a quick(?) drabble for this. I fully intended on posting this on time, but wanted to change up some stuff so only managed to finish this now. Happy birthday to my first fic and forver my baby!
MOSTLY UNEDITED
.
The absolute one thing you hate most about your boyfriend being away from you is your boyfriend being away from you.
You have never been the clingy needy type, that is more his role in this relationship, nor are you really one to show affection. In fact, you would hate for that false image to be perceived of you because all that sappy shit makes you want to throw up your dinner. But one thing you’ve learnt since Taehyung had gone away on a week-long boys’ trip down by the coast is how cold the house feels in his absence, despite being in the middle of a sizzling summer.
Everything is so eerily quiet without his random outbursts into song and fits of laughter. Having spent 3 years living together, you have gotten so used to his constant presence that you had even caught yourself several times calling out for him only to remember that he isn’t here. Waking up without his arm draped around your waist, slided up your top at some point during the night, impacts you more than you’d like to admit.
Are you glad that he’s having a great time with his friends by the beach, relaxing all day and drinking all night? Of course. Are you having a great time all by yourself over here in the absence of your boyfriend? Certainly not.
Though, of course, this isn’t something you would confess to out loud, especially to him. He doesn’t need to know how often the thought: ugh fuck, I miss Tete is crossing your mind, lest you want him to rub his smugness in your face.
It isn’t just that. Your relationship hasn’t been without its tests in the course of its years and things have only finally stabilised. It’s not that you don’t trust Taehyung to be with his ladish friends for seven days, shirtless dusk till dawn, intoxicated to the point where he calls you thinking that you’re the pizza delivery guy but…
A hammered Taehyung at a beach full of girls who are no doubt thirsting over him leaves a bad taste in your mouth. You trust him to be loyal to his core, but you don’t trust anyone else to keep their hands from copping a feel. No matter how you look at it, you would just so much rather he be at home with you right now.
You have endured this for six days. Six full days without Taehyung. Six full days with no sex, no tummy kisses, no clammy hand holding even though you’re only to get groceries. Just one more night and this torture will fucking be over, praise the lord. But you also don’t know how much more you can hold back that I miss you text because you’re combusting from the need to see him again.
It’s almost 4am. Your sleep schedule is fucked and it’s really his fault.
The bright screen of your phone offers the only luminescence at this hour. Your messages from him in the past week have not been shy of your daily dose of Taehyung - clips of the beach (always mischievously caption with something along the lines of “thinking of Mykonos ;D” where you went on your first holiday together), selfies that you dwell way too long staring at because you miss that face buried in your neck, drunk videos of the antics him and the boys get up to that you’ll definitely chastise him for when he comes back yet can’t help but laugh at. You find yourself scrolling through them every single night.
Your personal favourite: a pouty selfie he sent you after he dropped his ice cream, the picture you always go back to and the one you’re staring at right now. His hair is frizzy from the sea, lips jutted out childishly and cheeks puffy. Your chest constricts, fuck...
Just one more night, you remind yourself. And then he’s back and all yours again.
Then suddenly, the phone in your hand vibrates, short and abrupt. The bar slides down from the top of your screen reading New Message from Tete. Surprised, you scramble to open it, maybe a bit too desperately for you to be proud of.
04:11
Tete: bby
You blink at those three letters, lips pressed together because your heart is cinching.
Tete: ur prob aslep rn but
Tete: i missu
Tete: <334
The typos indicate that he is wasted, and you take a guess that he has just returned from their last night out of the holiday. The corners of your lips turn up knowing that he is thinking of you right now.
You: no im awake
Your fingers are itching to reply with i miss u too, and it takes all your willpower and stubbornness to stay true to your steadfast self. There is just something so unpleasantly moist about these kinds of texts, something that makes you cringe and gag when you read them. You refuse to be one of those people. A heart is all that you allow yourself to reply.
You: <3
You: r u drunk?
Tete: drunk in love
Tete: yes
A giggle escapes you at his god awful cheesiness - drunk, sober alike. Insufferable. But probably Taehyung’s most endearing quality.
You: did u have fun!!
Tete: yeah
Tete: but i miss u
Tete: more than i had fun
God, you feel like a teenager again, suddenly overcome with this gushing urge to roll over and scream into your pillow. You’re glad he’s merely texting this to you right now because if he had said this to you face to face, your skin would most definitely stain scarlet from neck to hairline, scalding to the touch. Even months into officially being his girlfriend, these curveballs of overwhelming affection throw you off guard.
Again, the compulsion to tell him you miss him too yanks at your heartstrings. You truly don’t understand why it’s so hard for you to say how you feel, let yourself be soft and vulnerable. You know it’s one of your flaws so it’s something that you’re working on, but you can’t say you’ve made much progress.
But just as you decide that maybe you should take the plunge, suck it up and just text him those three words, he sends you a picture.
Tete:
No, not just a picture. A selfie, of him in bed, shirtless under the covers. “Oh, fuck…”
Hand clasped over your mouth to prevent any sound from involuntarily escaping, it takes a moment for your breath to return to you and for you to stop gawking. At this hour… Really? Is he seriously doing this to you right now?
His sleepy eyes. His messy curls. And his fucking nose mole.
The undoing of your existence.
Tete: this boy misses u :]
You: bruh
You: bruhhhhhhh
You: taehyung
Tete: oui my lady :))
You: 👁👄👁
You: can u not do this to my heart
You: y did u send me this </333
You: what was the reason
Tete: coz i miss u
Tete: do u like it
Tete: :D
‘Do u like it’... Actually, you have tears in your eyes, albeit mostly due to staring at a screen for too long so late at night, but it’s certainly contributed by this selfie. You tell yourself you’re acting out because it’s been six days since you last saw him. Perhaps Taehyung Withdrawal Symptoms is the explanation behind why you want to print and frame this picture because that is definitely not a normal reaction to a picture. But this is a masterpiece.
You: taehyung my soul left my body
You: like i could weep
You: u look so soft and fluffy
You: :’(
Tete: lollll
Tete: simp
This boy has some nerve?! Simp! He called you a simp?! Laughing like a maniac, you can’t even pretend to be mad at him, not after this picture he sent anyway. So you guess you are a simp. This selfie is your kryptonite.
Tete: jkjkkkkk
You: hahahaha
You: y r u doing this to me
You: its 4am
You: u can’t send me this rn
You: i won’t be able to sleep
Tete: o yeah how come ur still up?
Tete: go to sleepppp
You: can’t sleep
Tete: aw no whyyy
Because you miss him that’s why.
You miss Kim Taehyung. You miss Tete. You miss your boyfriend, your best friend, your other half. You miss his touch, his smile, his wide eyes when he’s confused. You miss his morning snuggles and late night kisses. You miss the way he hugs you from behind as you prepare your meals. You miss the wandering hands that he can’t help when you’re out in public. You miss playing PUBG together until the sun comes out then both sleeping past noon. You miss taking baths together where bubbles would get into your mouth as your kisses get heated.
You just miss him.
It’s only been six days and you’re in this state. What has he done to you?
Fingers hovering over the keyboard, you let out a great sigh and deflate. No other reason offers itself for you to be awake at this hour; he knows you cherish sleep above anything. Teeth digging into your lip, you inhale long and hard, then exhale the gust of your cowardice. It’s not that deep, stupid. Fuck it.
You: coz
You: i miss u
You: like … a lot
You: 🙄
It’s final - you guess you’ve become a mushy wet sap. Truly it is embarrassing how big of a step this is for you; but the sense of pride and accomplishment feels oddly validating. Baby steps. The eye-rolling emoji right after is subconscious because you could only betray the core of your character that much. Forgo it and taehyung might not believe that it’s you.
Tete: omg
Tete: :D
Tete: rrly?
You: *blank kissy emoji*
Tete: wow
Tete: u actually don’t know how hard i’m smiling rn
You: simp
Tete: ofc that’s my middle name
Tete: i miss u a lot too
Tete: like a lotttttt
Tete: i’ll show u how much when i’m back
Ah… Of course, the Taehyung specialty - smothering you with his affection. You freeze at the thought of his wildfire kisses and head between your thighs. Nothing screams of how much you’ve missed each other more than a good dicking down, climax after climax until you’re both panting messes of sweat and entangled limbs. The anticipation makes you squirm under the sheets, legs pressing together.
You: pls do
You: i need u
It’s uncertain what spirit has possessed you at this ungodly hour for these words to come out of you. There’s an instant flash of ickiness, but you let the self-cringing simmer and dissipate into the realisation that this is okay, this is normal. Taehyung’s your boyfriend, couples text like this. You need to grow some.
Tete: fuck baby
Tete: i’m so not used to u texting like this, it's driving me crazy
You: crazy how *cat smirk*
If you weren’t smiling before, you’re definitely grinning like an idiot now. His reaction is predictable, yet oddly still, an incredible wave of satisfaction hits you. And because you want to savour this moment, maybe give him a taste of his own medicine, you send him a picture of yourself.
Camisole strap slid off your shoulder, hair splayed out, bottom lip deep red from biting down on it too much. Just to return the favour.
Tete: y/n
Tete: call me now
-Incoming call from Tete-
Laughing to yourself, you wait a good few seconds before picking up to prolong his torture. “Yes, Taehyung?” You put your thumb between your teeth to suppress the laughter.
“Fuck.” Against the silence of the night, the low rasp of his voice permeating into you from the speaker of your phone sends tingles up your toes. You’ve fucking missed his voice more than you thought. “Y/N… You can’t do this to me.”
“I told you, I miss you. Like… a lot.” The saccharine tone in your reply is foreign to your own ears, but you like the sound of it and the deep rumble it elicits from your boyfriend.
“How much?” Taehyung eggs you on. His words are barely slurred, so you gather that he has sobered up at least for the most part by now. Yet there is still a slowness to it that suggests
“Hmm, like… I touched myself every night at the thought of you a lot.”
A sharp inhale. Then silence. But you know better so you give him a moment to gather himself.
“You shouldn’t be putting that image in my head.” Exasperation is evident in his voice, desperate and yearning. You can imagine him now, one hand on his phone, the other sliding over his pants that are getting a bit too tight for comfort. Your breath hitches.
“Then you shouldn’t have sent me that picture, Taehyung…”
“You said it was soft and fluffy. What you sent me back was not soft and fluffy.”
“Just because it’s soft doesn’t mean it doesn’t turn me on. You do things to me… okay?” Heat trapped beneath the skin of your cheeks, your grip on the phone against your ear slackening as your thighs rub together.
“Fuck, I’m getting hard, baby…” Nothing gets him going more than the knowledge that he turns you on, it’s his weakness but somewhat his strength.
“That’s… unfortunate. Are you going to do something about it?”
His gulp is audible even over the phone. “Uh…” A sigh. “Um. Maybe. Thoughts are being thought.”
“What kind of thoughts? Thoughts about me touching myself and moaning your name? Thoughts about how much I wish my fingers were your cock thrusting so deep into me that I feel it in my guts? Or are you thinking about what you’ll do to me when you’re back tomorrow? Fucking my mouth until I’m crying or filling me up with your cum first?” Your hips buckle at the filth leaving your mouth. This is more like you; you haven’t abandoned your nature after all.
“Oh, fuckkkk.” His moan resonates into your skull, not quite as if he’s here with you but good enough to fill your desire. “Y/N… I need you so badly.” Breath ragged, you hear movement of his sheets in the background as he adjusts into a more comfortable position.
“Are you stroking your cock right now?” A warm slick oozes out of your own entrance. There’s something about Taehyung masturbating to you that elevates you to a different kind of high.
“What do you think, baby?” As you listen closely, you hear the slow rhythm of his pumping, and your fingers ache to pleasure yourself. ‘The things I’ll fucking do to you when I’m back.”
“Mmm, but it’s late, Taehyung, why don’t we go to sleep.”
“Wait, what?” The stroking stops instantly and surprise in his voice releases a smug satisfaction into your veins. The equivalent of pouring a bucket of ice water over his head right now. Teasing is an old undying habit, what can you say? “You wanna end the call now?”
“Yeah, we should sleep, babe.” Grin unsuppressed, you turn over onto your side, probably a bit too pleased with yourself at your success. Taehyung is an easy victim always.
“What the fuckkk?” Your boyfriend groans. “You’re seriously going to tease me this hard then leave me high and dry?” When you offer no more response than a sly chuckle, he add, “You’re so evil.”
“Save it for tomorrow, Taehyung. Think about it, we’re one sleep away from seeing each other again.”
“Fuck, I know. But you just got me so fucking horny, bruhhh. I thought we were gonna have phone sex.” You are still laughing at his whining, basking in the victory you’re holding over him.
“Taehyung, save it for the real sex.” The idea of phone sex crossed your mind several times to be honest, but you really want to collect every single drop of desire and longing and unleash it tomorrow. Raw and pent up. Nothing to dampen the fire.
A sigh of defeat down the line. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know?” You know. “How am I supposed to sleep now though? I’m so rock hard that it hurts.”
“You can figure that out yourself, big guy.” Your cheeks ache from smiling for too long; they often do during calls with him. “One sleep away, okay?”
“Ugh, fine, you demon. I can’t believe you sometimes.” He lets out another sigh. Your heart skips at the anticipation of how he will punish you for this. “Good night, I miss you.”
“Good night, I miss you more.” There’s a sudden change of tone with these words. Because you truly mean it. Sex and physical intimacy aside, you really just missed his voice, his banter.
You fall asleep almost immediately.
.
You don’t think you’ve heard a sweeter sound than the keys rattling at the door the next day. Practically leaping off the couch where you had been awaiting him in your Taeyhyung-less boredom, you run to the door.
As it swings open, heat courses to your chest when your eyes land on his, so full of comfort. Your boyfriend is home. Handsome as ever, much more tanned than your memory of him and much more attractive. White t-shirt and loose black shorts, a mundane outfit that only he could make look exceptional.
And as much as you want to sprint up and throw yourself onto him, your feet stay planted on the floor.
“Hey.” You barely breathe out.
Stay calm and composed, you tell yourself. It was only one week without him, it’s not like he’s returning from war.
But Taehyung doesn’t even reply, because in two long strides he is standing before you, bags tossed to the side, a sign of their insignificance in the presence of you. His arms find their home circled around you, face buried in your hair before you can utter another word. You don’t hesitate to return his embrace, holding his waist as you let yourself fall into his chest. He smells like what summer should, the ocean, sweat and young love; his familiar musk greeting you as if he never left.
Your lips meet his, strong and full of intent. He’s so unexpectedly soft when he kisses back, a timeless romantic dance like he is saviour your taste on his tongue.
With your weight leaning on him, he slowly topples back, stepping hastily until your bodies land on the couch. You fit your legs on either side of him as you burrow your nose in his neck and breathe him in, memorise him. In nothing but a large shirt, your bare thighs are exposed for his roaming.
When you pull away and face each other, you are struck by his beauty. His skin is sun-kissed and glowing, hair an effortlessly beautiful mess, the slightest hint of a stubble peeking through below his nose. Your heart belongs to him forever, you know it without a doubt.
“You smell so good. I missed you so much, baby.” And his voice… That deep baritone honey that you have taken for granted all this time - music to your ears.
“Imissedyoutoo…” You mumble, shy under his undivided attention and mercilessly unbroken eye contact.
With your chests pressed together, his chuckle rumbles into you. “What was that?”
“I missed you too… I guess.” Face flaming, you can’t bring yourself to meet his eye at your admittance, fingers twirling around his curls to preoccupy yourself.
But he cups your chin and turns your face to him, forehead pressing up to yours until your noses are touching, breaths mixing. “That’s not what you said last night.” Taehyung smirks, hands sliding down to your waist, the material of your shirt bunching up in his hands. “Do I need to remind you?”
“No…” You find yourself unable to keep your eyes open, your core pulsing mercilessly as you grind onto him. “How are you already hard, Taehyung…” And though you mean to scold him, it comes out breathless.
Lips hovering, he traces the edge of your jaw, tingling the sensitive little hairs on its way to your ear. When he reaches the shell of your ear, warm breath infiltrating so relentlessly into you, you almost lose yourself right there on his lap. “Don’t you know how much I love you?” He whispers.
“Show me.” Is all you make out.
His hands are already beneath your shirt before you even notice, palms kneading into your breasts as he takes your nipples between his two fingers and rolls. As he kisses you again, the same tenderness exchanges between your lips. It’s a different kind of desperation to be so slow and gentle, one that means so much more than sex, one that’s telling of how much you truly missed each other. Your hips roll with a mind of their own over him. One hand of his comes down to your ass, guiding the waves of your rocking. And each time his stiff clothed member digs into your clit, you whimper into his mouth.
Carefully, Taehyung rolls you over onto your back, sucking your bottom lip to keep the seal from breaking. He pulls away when he’s on top of you, and a string of glistening saliva bridges between your mouths. “Foreplay or no? Tell me what you want?” Compliant as ever.
“I need you to fill me up right now. Anything else can wait.” You watch the devotion ignite in his eyes. His fingers are in a hurry as they pull your panties off, knees spreading your legs open as he kneels between your gaping entrance. He tugs his shirt off from the collar, such smoothness in his action that your insides coil up. His newly-bronzed rich skin revealed, you can’t help but reach up and run your hands down from chest to navel, revelling in his blemishless ridges.
A low sound reverberates from the back of Taehyung’s throat as your touch travels down to unbutton his shorts. They fall loose. His hard throbbing members springs free, a glistening bead oozing from his slit. “You didn’t wear boxers?”
When you glance up, you notice his sheepish grin. He presses his mouth onto yours, still smiling, guiding you back onto your back. “I just couldn’t wait.” Taehyung whispers. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, especially since last night… Ah, fuck.” Another deep groan erupts from him as you reach down and slather that bead of precum all over his tip. His head falls onto your neck, writhing under your merciless stroking.
His tip brushing against your clit, your toes curls at the teasing of your weakness, hips jolting up involuntarily and perhaps a bit too violently. You’re so embarrassingly sensitive after this many days without Taehyung, and he notices from your breathless reaction. Smirking, he takes his shaft in his hand and runs his stiff head over your clit mercilessly. And as you roll your head back helplessly, he nibbles onto your exposed neck, faint stubble grazing your skin.
“Quit the teasing…” You whine, unable to withstand the build up of twisting pressure begging to be fulfilled between your legs. “Just put-”
Taehyung pushes himself into you so abruptly that you yelp. And there it is, that mind-melting stretch of your walls that you’ve so much missed. “Fuck, Taehyung…” Your entire core feels ablaze, so numbing that your nails dig into the leather of the couch before they find grip on his arms.
“Like that, baby?” His voice his strained, as if he’s struggling not to lose his mind as well.
Nodding because you can’t make out a word as he slowly pulls out, you grab his face and pull him up to meet your lips. You whimper into him mouth when he rams into you again, hitting your walls in full force, no mercy. His kiss doesn’t lose its sincerity despite the juxtaposition of his vigorous thrusts, though you can’t say that he is quite as gentle with as before. You pinch his bottom lip between your teeth, sucking on it as your fingers get lost in his hair.
After seven days of deprevation of his cock, your cunt is leaking with the fluid of your arousal, aiding in the ease of each plunge. You feel the stiffness of his ridges pulling you open as he slides in and out of you. “Fuck…” He pants, mouth hovering over yours.
“Let me get on top.” Taehyung’s eyes flash at your suggestion, instantly rolling onto his back. He slips out during the switch of position and the wetness of your cunt is assailed by a sudden rush of cool air.
You swing your leg over and mount him, watching him watch you pump his dick, your own liquid slathered over him sticky in your hand. Letting his member fall against his abdomen, you grind over him between your folds, hands splayed out over his chest. The friction created each time your clit would slide over the thin pinch of skin where his tip unfolded into his shaft has Taehyung a groaning mess.
He looks remarkable under you.
You push his sweat-dampened curls out of his forehead, eyes half closed in euphoria, half watching you roll your cunt so lewdly over his length. You know you could make him cum like this if you continue. But you want him to cum inside you first, you want to feel that thick hot spurt of his desire shoot again and again into you until his cock is twitching.
So slowly, lubricated by your wetness, you sink inch by inch down until the skin of your ass meets his thighs. This angle fuck with your mind; you think you feel him at your cervix. Then your hips start to do what they know best, pounding over him with a rhythm that you’re proud of.
Taehyung grabs hold of your waist, your breasts, fury in his eyes as he watches you ride him with such determination. “I love you so much.” He heaves between heavy breaths.
“I love you, I missed you more than you could imagine.” You huff, thumb running over his red swollen lips.
“I love when you admit it.” He sits up and takes the swell of your breast in his mouth, making his way to your nipples where his tongue relentlessly flickers over.
Your thighs are starting to burn, core aching because his cock is thrusting up into you so deep that you feel it in your guts. The signs are appearing - your vision is going hazy, walls squeezing tightly around him, tangle upon tangles knoting in your stomach. His are too - his head is slumped against your chest, arms crossed behind your back as he holds you close to him, whole body starting to tense as he begins to curse.
Pace quickening, you don’t let the tire of your muscles stop you from your chase. The slap of your skins ringing in your ears, you keep riding, cunt swallowing his cock whole each bounce. Taehyung breaks first. “Fuck!” He calls out into your neck. His cum squirts into you, pulse after pulse, your boyfriend’s hips jolting each thrust.
“I’m so close, babe, keep going for me.” You plead, knowing how sensitive he is right after his climax. He nods wordlessly, face still buried in you hair. The lubrication of his cum abolishes any resistance, letting you slide over him easier than sitting down. And not five thrusts later, your own coil snaps. You through your head back at the wave of pleasure that drowns you, your entire core on fire as your moans echo through the room. It takes maybe twenty seconds for your walls to stop throbbing and for the orgasm to slowly die down.
Taehyung is already growing limp inside you after his orgasm. “Thank you.” You whisper against his forehead while you dismount. His cum flows out of your slit and down the insides of your thighs, but he refuses to let go of you.
When he looks up, you are struck by an overwhelming sensationf of adoration. His long dark curls fall slightly over his eyes, in disarray but just the way you like it. His eyes are so full of genuine love and gratitude of having you that you can’t help but capture him with your lips. “No, thank you.” He mumbles against you, falling back onto the couch with you in his embrace.
After a long kiss of after-sex affection, you pull away before it leads to a second round. “I want you to know that I really missed you a lot. I can’t even call you a big baby anymore because I stared at all the pictures you sent me every night till the sun came out.”
Taehyung’s boyish smile melts your heart. You’ve missed him way too much. His smile, his goofy comments, his tender kisses. “My heart… is squeezing…” If his smile doesn’t tell how smitten he is, his eyes definitely do. “I missed you so much too. All the boys made fun of me for being such a wettie ‘coz I couldn’t shut up about you.” The thought is so endearing that you can’t help but hide your face.
“So how was your trip? Plenty of hot girls drooling after you?” Trick question of course, you know that for a fact already.
“Haha, it was good, fun. Bet you couldn’t sleep ‘coz you were trembling from jealousy.” Scoffing you land a smack on his chest. “But nah, no hot girls. Nowadays there’s only one hot girl in my eyes.”
Your own lips spread like a cheshire cat. “Shut up, cutie.”
“Rachel McAdams.”
“Let go of me. Don’t even touch me.”
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A/N: Moral of the story, never sit on their couch if you’re a guest at the Heatwave house.
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24/08/20
© Copyright 2020
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A long bitch of an interview with Euronymous, from Orcustus zine in early ‘92.
What is Orcustus? Orcustus was an early 90’s black metal ‘zine run by none other than Bård “Faust*” Eithun— murderous pretty-boy, and o.g Euronymous simp. I think he might have also played drums in a band called Emperor... but I’m not sure! Its full name is actually “Orcustus— The Shadow of The Golden Fire”, and no, I’m not making this up.
This particular issue here opens up with a quote from a short story called ‘The Doom That Came To Thomas Parkes*’.
Assuming the reader hasn’t read the story, Faust explains that the quote is in reference to what happened to the titular ‘Thomas Parkes’ when he tried to raise spirits. Faust then admits that he’s unsure of his own ability to ‘raise spirits’, but says he hopes that he’ll raise some fists in agreement that there’s something wrong with the underground scene. Ironically (you’ll see why this is ironic very soon), he doesn’t like that certain bands, namely Entombed, are selling so many copies of their LPs.
After a brief diatribe on just that, he goes on to explain that he was in a rush to get this mag out because of problems with the printer. Then, he tells anyone who doesn’t like the fact that this ‘zine only features black metal that they can fuck off, with three exclamation points.
Finally, we get to the end of the opening page, where Faust pulls what can only be called an early form of the Twitter exposed thread. It reads as follows, with absolutely no changes to the text:
“I would suggest you to not do any business with that sucker Evil Ludo from France. He have riped me and several others off, by not return what we ordered. I suppose he’s a medical sensation, as I didn’t know it was physical or psychical possible to live without a brain”
Why am I telling you all of this, when this is only meant to be a transcript of an interview with Euronymous, you may be asking? Because I find it funny, that’s why.
Anyhow, the Euronymous here acts and feels very differently from the Euronymous of the last interview I posted. However, I hope you’ll still enjoy it, and I hope you’re able to appreciate the tiny glimpses of humanity talking to a close friend allowed him, even though they both behave like complete asses. Even though it’s hard to sympathize with him at points.
Like last time, any (sparse) commentary will be between (parenthesis) and in bold. Without further ado, let’s get into it.
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F: Well, how in hell shall one be able to come up with an intro worthy enough for this band? The words I wanna describe Mayhem’s music with, is not yet created, and it won’t be created either, because no one has really experienced the real darkness and pure brutality with lays behind Mayhem’s hellish sound, but I suppose you all are familiar with this band anyway. Well, in the first place, I hadn’t really thought to enclose this band in this issue, because if we look away from rereleases of old demos (“Pure Fucking Armageddon”) and live tapes, it’s a pretty long time since their last release (in ‘87 that was). I thought I rather should interview them when they released their forthcoming album “Dee Mysteriis Dom Sathanas”, but due to the circumstances, I realised the time was right for an interview now. I won’t bother you with any history shit, but I could tell a bit about what has happened last year. You all know that their vocalist Dead comited suicude in April ‘91, that was a bigg loss for the underground, and I suppose I don’t need to say that this mag is dedicated to the memory of that infernal man. Anyway, Dead was replaced by Cultòcùlus (back then called Occultus), but due to different problems within the band, he left the band in January ‘92, but let’s not say more about that, as Euronymous didn’t want me to say anything about it at all (but Euronymous, you must admit that it has sounded pretty artificial if I hadn’t mentioned it at all). So now, the band consists of Hellhammer (drums) and Euronymous (guitar (and probably bass too)). I know the singer of Tormentor (rip) from Hungary (Esihar Attila) is interested in singing on the album, and also even moving to Norway, so it seems like Mayhem got some sort of predilection to foreign vocalists, but this Hungarian guy happend to be a good one as well, so never mind that. But I don’t think this is official, so don’t tell anyone you read it here, ok? Well then, it’s an honour for me to dedicate the next following pages to one of today’s most legendary and infamous bands......... THE TRUE MAYHEM!!!!!!!
F: First of all Euronymous, I know you and Dead live/lived totally for the old black metal attitude. Is your hate now total to young and trendy bands after Dead’s suicide?
Euro: YES, we have declared WAR. Dead died because the trend people have destroyed everything from the old black metal/death metal scene, today “death” metal is something normal, accepted and FUNNY (argh) and we HATE it. It used to be spikes, nites, chains, leather and black clothes, and this was the only thing Dead lived for as he hated this world and everything which lives on it. If we had the economic possibility to do it, we should meet up at concerts and beat up ALL trend people ALL the time untill they would be too scared to go to concerts at all, now we need to suck their money instead. It’s impossible to stop the trend no matter how much we want, we have to do the best out of it and sell lots of trend shit to them. (I don’t need to tell you that that’s totally not why Dead killed himself, right?)
F: In the spring of ‘91 you started up a shop in Oslo which sells all sorts of music within metal. Is there anything you can tell us about the shop (ideas? plans?)?
Euro: Well, the original idea was to make a specialist shop for metal in general, but that’s a long time ago. Normal metal isn’t very popular anymore, all the children are listening to “death” metal now, I’d rather be selling Judas Priest than Napalm Death, but at least now we can be specialized within “death” metal and make a shop where all the trend people know that they will find all the trend music, this will help us earning money so that we can order more EVIL records to the evil people. But no matter how shitty music we have to sell, we’ll make a BLACK METAL look on the shop, we’ve had a couple of “actions” in churches lately, and the shop is going to look like a black church in the future. We’ve also thought about having total darkness inside, so that would would have to carry torches to be able to see the records.
F: Well, how is the situation all in all in the Mayhem camp right now?
Euro: Difficult as usual, but we’re closer than ever to record the Mayhem lp. Almost all the material is completed, then I and Hellhammer will record the whole thing with 3 guitars, 2 basses and so on. It will be very massive. Who’s to sing on the lp is not yet decided, we’ll wait and see what happens. We have several people who can do the job very well.
F: As Metalion of Slayer mag* said: “it seems like you at certain times lives on the edge of starvation”. Have you ever been on the thought to just give up the whole band and become a normal 9 to 5 person, or is this a completely stupid question to ask?
Euro: It has been very hard at times, but I am not a normal person anyway so it would just not be possible to do that. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about why things are as they are (this answer will be long) (that’s okay for me/Ed). The reason why we don’t have any money, is because of hardcore. We have for too long been following the “underground” rules, which say that you must hate money, you must not think you are anything, you must be open-minded, you might have a lot of attitudes and so on. Extremely stupid. But the situation has been that if you don’t follow these rules which are made by hardcore pigs, you are not accepted as a death metal or black metal band! Then you MUST be signed by some big label to be able to make some money, and we’ve never wanted to do that. Then you would anyway be labelled as “commercial” by the HC pigs. This has caused that after 8 years, we are still as broke as ever, while the HC pigs themselves are controlling all labels, and they sign only the bands which fit into their own idiotic world, that means “death” metal bands with society lyrics and jogging suits, and this is what the people see when they grow up. They don’t see any EVIL bands with spikes, as we did. Well, I’m tired about being broke, just to be “underground”. I’m tired of not having money to eat for just because tons of people will call you a “rip-off” if you don’t write 20 letters each day. It’s time to say fuck off to the whole system, which is built to strangle the evil bands in the birth. We must start taking inspirations from the ancient ones, from Venom and their likes. They did their thing BIG, and they never had to think about any idiotic underground rules. They did it big and so must we, but it must never become a trend, it must become a CULT. This is why we have started on a brand new policy with the band and the record label. It’s about time that someone makes a label for black metal and other grim music, and STRIKE BACK. There is NO reason why DSP shouldn’t be as big as Peaceville or Nuclear Blast, if we can just get the business on its feet again and get good distribution. That’s the only way to compete with the HC labels. It’s about time we start taking control over our own scene. We must spread the EVIL bands and pervert people’s souls.
F: What about the Norwegian scene then? Don’t you think that something is terribly wrong when it have gone so far that we have a christian “death metal” band here (Crush Evil)? Advices on how we should kill them?
Euro: First of all— the Norwegian scene is the BEST. There are a lot of GREAT bands (yet with no album out) and of course some shitty trend bands, but nothing as in Sweden. There you have 2-3 good bands out of 100, while here we have a few shit bands who hardly have made even a demo, while all the great bands will make records in the near future. Such as Darkthrone, Burzum, Immortal, Thorns (I’m flattered/ED*), Arcturus, Enslaved and newer bands like Malfeitor and others which I have not yet heard. BUT— when it comes to bands like Crush Evil, we must take serious action. It’s bad enough to have a couple of society bands, but a CHRISTIAN band is too much. But don’t worry, we have plans. They will not continue for a very long time.
F: And now over to something more humouristic....yes.... snuff movies. Who had been the perfect actor for a snuff movie, and why the hell aren’t they legalized? Don’t you think that every video-store should have its own section with snuff-movies?
Euro: Actually I think it’s great that movies like that are forbidden. If they were legal and easily accessible, all the small trend children would be watching them, and then it would not be something extreme anymore (I’m not sure if I agree with you here Euronymous. Snuff movies are usually too raw and brutal for the people with their “peace and life” infected minds. Remember the HC rules/ED) (shut the fuck up, Faust*) It’s just the same what happened to death metal— it became something everyone could buy in every store, something normal and accessible for everyone. All the mystic and evil atmosphere is GONE. I do not think snuff-movies are funny, I think they are DARK. I’ve seen people laugh at them, but that’s probably because they will not be mentally able to take the PAIN and EVIL on over themselves. That is the best way to watch such a movie, to try to FEEL the actual pain of the victims. It becomes much more gruesome then, and that’s great. One must be alone in the darkness and suffer with the victims, if you watch it with other people, they will often talk, laugh and so on, and then you get more distanced from it, it’s not supposed to be funny (death to fun), it’s much better when it’s depressive.
F: Through the years you have been talking about releasing bands like Samael, Rotting Christ, Master’s Hammer, Tormentor, Matricide, Imperator, Massacre etc. on Deathlike Silence Prod., but now some of these bands have released lp’s on labels which only have money in their eyes and know that black metal sells. Doesn’t that frustrate you, and don’t you feel it like the time is running out for you?
Euro: It’s a bit frustrating, but it is also a result of trying to be “underground” which is a suicide policy. Anyway, the main thing is that these evil records get released at all, and not who’s releasing them. We will probably release a record with Tormentor, they’re split up, but they still want to make their Anno Domini demo on vinyl, and we’ll try to fix it within the summer. The time is not running out, because there are a lot of really evil bands around. — most of the Norwegian bands which other labels haven’t heard about. Burzum is ten times better than all the bands on Earache together, and so are Thorns and Arcturus. So there is no problem, really. As for bands like Rotting Christ and Master’s Hammer, we might do something in the future instead. I’ve never been talking with Samael about any deal, but I wish I had as their album is FUCKING GREAT.
F: Almost all bands in the underground today says that they think they got their own style and originality, but the fact is that 95% of the bands sounds totally the same. What is an original death metal band today?
Euro: There exists no death metal bands today. There are only a handful of (mostly great) bands (in case someone hadn’t got it right— black metal has nothing to do with the music itself, both Blasphemy and Mercyful Fate are black metal. It’s the LYRICS, and they must be SATANIC. If not, it is NOT black metal) and what we choose to call LIFE METAL bands. Take a band like Therion. Their music is quite ok, it’s actually one of the best Swedish bands (even though that doesn’t say much) but their lyrics STINK. They are about society and pollution, what the fuck has that got to do with DEATH? If a band cultivates and worships death, then it’s death metal, no matter what KIND of metal it is. If a band cultivates and worships Satan, it’s black metal. And by saying “cultivates death”, I don’t think about thinking it’s funny, or being into gore, I’m thinking about being able to KILL just because they HATE LIFE. it’s people who enjoy to see wars because a lot of people get killed. How many bands think that way? Not many. I can’t think of one.
F: You’re maybe not the most active band when it comes to gigs, but at least you’ve managed to tour Germany and Turkey. What can you tell us from the tour, and is there any new gigs planed?
Euro: That tour was a big mess, we’ll NEVER take the train again! We lost quite some money, but still it was great to get to East-Germany and Turkey. The memories of the tour consist mostly of the starvation and idiotic custom officers, but still I wouldn’t like to have missed the opportunity. We don’t have any concrete plans, we’ll see happens in the future. We don’t like to play for a lot of trendies in jogging suits, so we prefer to leave it be.
F: What do you think of the fact that death metal has been on MTV?
Euro: It sucks. But it isn’t death metal anyway, so....
F: I know that you will soon release the debut album of Abruptum on DSP, so, what can you tell us about it?
Euro: It’s EVIL. It’s PURE EVIL, they were torturing each other in studio DURING the recording and you can HEAR on the music how they SUFFER. It will be the most demented record EVER, and it’s NOT for normal people. This is music which NEVER can become trendy, because normal people won’t be able to understand it. And that’s great. The price for the album it’ll be the same as for the BURZUM lp, which should be somewhere else in this ‘zine*. It’s called “Obscuriratem Advoco Amplèctere Me”, and stay away from it if you don’t like pure DARKNESS.
F: Don’t you think that people in the underground should respect others ideas and views more? I mean, it’s not accepted to spread unpopular thoughts. It seems like there is some sort of guardians of morality and most people keep in mind not to say or do anything which is not accepted by the public.
Euro: I don’t think people should respect each other. I don’t want to see trend people respecting me, I want them to HATE and FEAR. If people don’t accept our ideas as their own, they can fuck off because then they belong to a musical scene which has NOTHING to do with ours. They could just as well be Madonna fans. There is an ABYSS between us and the rest. Remember— one of the HC rules is that you must be open-minded (except for themselves), so we must be careful and avoid being open-minded ourselves. The HC pigs have correctly made themselves guardians of morality, but we must kick them in the face and become guardians of anti-morality.
F: You say you want your riffs to have a dark mood and really sound evil, but what if you came up with a riff which just sounded good, but not evil. Would you use it then?
Euro: Well, if a riff sounds good to me, it mostly means that it sounds evil too. At least when I make the music myself. Haven’t really thought about this about this before.
F: Do you think you’ve been playing this sort of music today if it weren’t for those old bands like Mercyful Fate, Venom and Hellhammer?
Euro: It’s impossible to say. Venom and the other ancient ones have been fundamental influences on Mayhem, and also the direct reason of the band’s existence. We like to think that if they hadn’t started up this, we would have, but who knows? Doesn’t really matter anyway, we hail ancient Venom as the CREATORS.
F: Ok, no more questions at the moment. End the interview in what way you want......
Euro: Perhaps it should be mentioned that well re-release the MAYHEM mini-lp “Deathcrush” VERY soon. We also have t-shirts available now. People should write for prices on things. Be EVIL, not open-minded.
Ok, I suppose some of you already know that Euronymous started up a shop in Oslo in the spring of ‘91. The shop is called “HELVETE” (which is Norwegian and means “HELL”) and are specialized within underground stuff and death metal in general (though he also have some other styles of music there). As he said in the MAYHEM interview, the shop really have a black metal look, so if you ever visit Oslo, I really recommend you to visit “HELVETE” as well. I think it’s good that people take the initiative to start up with such things, because if everyone were just passive, we would all get ruined by poser-shops like Hot Records where they take 140 NKR for the Earache albums (which you in “HELVETE” can get a CD for the same price). Euronymous also sells though mail, so write and ask for a list or something: HELVETE, Schweigaardsgt. 56, 0656 Oslo. NORWAY.”
That’s all! :)
And now for the things I put in asterisks, in order of their appearances.
*If for some reason you actually don’t know who Faust is, he was the drummer on the Emperor LP and “In The Nightside Eclipse” but you might also know him from other great hits such as “threatening to kill Mortiis from prison whilst simultaneously attempting to plead murder of the secondth degree”, “I’m glad the people Euronymous ripped off won’t get their money back because he’s dead hA hA!”, “I got fourteen years for murder because I’m a socially inept virgin— oops” and “bad... bad lyrics who’s quality somehow don’t improve with the passing of time”. All jokes are done in good humour— if it seems like I dislike him, it’s not that at all. I just find him easy to make fun of.
Here is another short bio, this one less sarcastic: he was born in Trondheim, lived around Kvikne, and Lillehammer, worked at Helvete, was a close friend of Euro’s, and has his sun in Taurus.
He also beefed with Glen Benton for dissing the Party City cape (Note: of course I’m being extremely reductive) he and Euronymous seemed to share. Here are a few pictures of Faust:
Here is the infamous Party City cape:
*This was surprisingly hard to find. I think he read it in a mag or something. Here’s a link to where you can find it: https://issuu.com/davidgamble/docs/paranormal37/3 page 64-65.
*Slayer mag was another zine, this one by a bloke named Metalion, who was Euro’s best friend.
*Faust (who felt the strange need to make a distinction between himself, the editor, and himself, the interviewer) also played in Thorns (well, Stigma Diabolicum), under the hilarious moniker: Fetophagia✨
*He’s being a fucking idiot, what was I supposed to say? It should be noted that Faust actually went down for the snuff films too.....
*In case you’re interested, for whatever reason, the prices for the Burzum LP were as follows:
Norge— 130 NKR
Norden— 100 K
Finland— 60 FN
Island— 1000 IK
Europe— 15$
Outside Europe,
Overseas— 15 $
Air— 22$
East Europe— 10$
By ‘norden’ he presumably meant ‘northern Norway’, and “Island” is the Norwegian word for Iceland. Notice the way he doesn’t include Sweden! (Edit: Originally I thought he didn’t include Finland because there was a black metal war with them as well, but it seems as though that feud came a bit later or had already passed)
That’s all, for real this time!
Legal disclaimer: I am absolutely, in no way shape or form, claiming that the stupid cape you see them wearing is literally from Party City. From my limited research, I’ve gathered that the Party City chain hasn’t yet opened its doors in the beautiful and glorious country we know as Norway— Norge. However, I am saying that the cheap, dinky piece of cloth covering their backs and shoulders are of the same kind of shitty quality you’d expect from a Party City Count Dracula costume and that maybe Glen had a point about how stupid Euronymous (and Faust) must’ve looked.......
#black metal#euronymous#mayhem#emperor#euronymous interview#interview#Faust#Orcustus zine#true norwegian black metal#my transcript#Bard Faust#look at these fucking dorks
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a ✨drunk and clingy ian✨ one-shot
okay so we all know that saint patrick’s day is a very arbitrary and somewhat meaningless holiday (at least in the u.s. lol)- but we also know that the gallaghers are incredibly fucking irish, so i am using this as an excuse to write some drunk and clingy gallavich fluff (bc i think we all need it!! or at least i do!!!!)
hope y’all enjoy<3
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Mickey and Ian came in the door from their final weed security run of a way-too-chilly and grey March afternoon, kicking the slush off of their lace-up boots in a tired but comfortable silence. Mickey had been fantasizing for a good part of the afternoon about his usual afternoon ritual of collapsing onto the couch with a cold beer in his hand, and taking a long lazy nap while shitty game shows played on the TV in the background— but unfortunately, Debbie had other plans. Or so he realized when he turned the corner and his eyes were met with a forest of green and white streamers blanketing the living room, with Debbie determinedly balancing on a kitchen chair to hang them in the doorway.
Mickey did a double-take, shooting a glance at Ian and then back at the festive room again. What the fuck? He quickly racked his brain— there was no way he’d could’ve forgotten Franny’s birthday, that was in the summer—and he was pretty sure that Liam’s birthday was in the winter sometime; so whose the fuck was it? Too many goddamn Gallaghers to keep track of. Finally, Mickey admitted his own defeat.
“Is it someone’s fuckin’ birthday or something?”
Mickey flashed another gaze to Ian in confusion as he said it, hoping that Ian would silently mouth whatever the occasion was to him, or at the very least raise his eyebrows and goad Mickey enough to jog his memory to remember whatever the fuck today was— but Ian just gave an easygoing grin as he took in the room’s decor and let out a laugh.
“Debbie, isn’t this kind of going overboard?”
Debbie looked over her shoulder from where she was now taping a crudely scribbled picture of a shamrock, most likely drawn by Franny, up onto the wall.
“What? If it’s our last Saint Patrick’s Day in the house, the least we can do is go out with a bang,” she answered nonchalantly, and continued fixating on hanging up Franny’s drawing.
Mickey inadvertently let out a scoff and rolled his eyes. Fucking Gallaghers.
“I’m sorry, fucking Saint Patrick’s Day?”
Ian’s lips formed a playful smile and he elbowed Mickey between the ribs. “Yeah, Mick, Saint Patrick’s Day— also known as the unironically most important day of the Gallagher family calendar year. I can’t believe I forgot it was today, with all the work stuff we had going on.”
At first Mickey couldn’t tell if Ian was actually being serious— but in the same second he decided that it didn’t really matter, since Ian’s eyes were bright and shining and there was this weird giddy grin he was sporting from ear to ear, like he was absolutely fucking delighted that it was Saint Patrick’s Day, instead of just a normal goddamn Wednesday. Fucking softie.
And as endearing as that was, Mickey still couldn’t let him off that easily. “There’s no way I’m celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day. It’s a fake holiday for yuppie rich kids to go bar hopping—I’m not getting involved in any of your Gallagher bullshit.”
Ian’s grin just grew, like he knew exactly what Mickey was doing. “Hey, you married into this family. If anything, this is your own fault.”
Mickey just rolled his eyes, then continued to unlace his boots and throw them by the doorway.
“The fuck do you do anyways, aside from getting trashed?”
Ian put a hand on Mickey’s upper back to steady himself as he pulled his own shoes off. “I think getting trashed pretty much sums up the festivities. Today’s practically a holy day of observance for Frank, and I’m assuming Debbie’s also just gonna use today as an excuse to get drunk on a Wednesday.”
“Hell yeah I am!” Debbie called from where she was putting the chair back in the kitchen.
Mickey raised his eyebrows. “I knew Gallaghers were white trash, but I had no idea you were this bad.”
“Oh, come on. You don’t have any Ukranian white trash holidays or whatever?”
Mickey held back a bitter laugh. Yeah, they had “holidays,” in the form of days when Terry was celebratorily drunk enough to leave them the fuck alone for 24 hours, rare occasions when his looming shadow was out of the house and a festive lightness bled in in its place. They sort of celebrated Christmas, which was mostly just associated with too many painful memories of Terry ripping open the presents before he or his brothers had the chance, and too many painful stings associated with him having one too many drinks as they sat quietly inside the sagging house and pretended to be a big happy family for one night a year.
But never anything as gaudy and deliberate and ridiculous as observing a C-list, Irish-American holiday just for the hell of it, just for fun—which yes, was probably fueled by Frank’s alcoholism more than anything else, but also made something swell in Mickey’s insides that he didn’t quite know how to place.
And Mickey didn’t know how to let out that entire internal monologue to Ian while Debbie was standing within earshot. “Nah, man. Milkoviches don’t really do… holidays.”
Ian snaked a hand around Mickey’s back, giving his shoulder a squeeze, a grounding touch. He gets it.
“Well, get ready to have your mind blown, Mr. Gallavich, because we’re about to celebrate this hallowed occasion Gallagher style.”
Mickey rolled his eyes again, but let himself lean into Ian’s touch, lean his weight ever-so-slightly against Ian’s chest that was pressed behind him by the doorway. And, okay— as stupid as this was, maybe there was something sort of warm and solid about tradition, about hand-scribbled shamrocks and streamers on the wall, about having days to celebrate just because you wanted to, just because you could…
Just then Franny came hurdling into the room, wearing a baggy green t-shirt and a face-painted shamrock adorning her cheek.
Ian’s face lit up when she stopped in front of them. “Hey Franny! Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!”
Franny held out two bottles of beer to Ian and Mickey from where she had been hiding them behind her back.
“Mommy said I should give these to you when you came home!”
Mickey smirked, carefully taking the bottles from Franny’s outstretched hands. “Thanks, kiddo.”
And if all celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day took was knocking down a few beers on a weekday afternoon—well, Mickey wasn’t going to complain about that.
**
Of course, hours later Mickey realized how severely he’d underestimated Debbie’s enthusiasm— after lounging around the house waiting for the stream of Gallaghers to trickle in from their various daily activities, Debbie had rounded everyone up and they migrated to the Alibi as the sun was setting, where they’d met up with Kev and V and Lip and Tami, who (thank fucking god) looked as vaguely confused and fully apathetic about this whole “Saint Patrick’s Day” situation as Mickey did.
Now it was late, and Mickey was leaning against the bartop of the Alibi sipping a thick, foamy glass of Guinness, which was as close to embracing whatever-the-fuck Irish heritage his husband had as he was possibly going to get.
All of the Gallaghers were here, swirling around the room—Debbie had put on some sort of peppy music as Kev poured everyone drinks, and a couple of other Southside neighbors had heard the bass thrumming and joined the ruckus. The room wasn’t too crowded, but it was pleasantly full of bodies and chatter— Kev had bought bunches of shiny, tacky green mardi gras beads for everyone to wear, and the air in the room was festive and bordering on sloppy in a way that felt very different from how Mickey had envisioned this evening would go.
Mickey was pacing himself, because it was a Wednesday for fuck’s sake— but his husband was an entirely different story. Between the beers at home and the various drinks Debbie had been siphoning into his hands all night, Ian was teetering on the drunkest Mickey had seen him in years—which partially made the tiniest spark of trepidation start to creep into Mickey’s bloodstream, a spark that he immediately extinguished. It was one night, the first in a long time— Ian deserved to have some fun.
And he definitely, definitely was having fun— casually dancing with Debbie and Sandy and whoever else would humor him, grinning with red-hot cheeks and bright eyes— from across the room Mickey could tell how warm his skin would be if he pressed a hand against it, how flushed. Mickey wasn’t really in the mood for dancing, or whatever the fuck stumbling around and chatting and making friends Drunk Ian was up to for the evening, and he was perfectly content to nurse his drink at the bar— which is why it surprised him when Ian pulled himself out of the crowd, slightly stumbling over his own feet, and made the way across the room to where Mickey was leaning at the bar, immediately boxing him in and putting his hands square on Mickey’s waist. Mickey almost imperceptibly let in a sharp breath.
Ian looked down at him, all smiles and shiny eyes— when he spoke the scent of sweet, hot liquor danced on Mickey’s face and all he wanted was to be closer, to breathe it in.
“Are you having fun?” Ian’s right hand traced up Mickey’s side, then back down to its hold on his hipbone.
Mickey raised his eyebrows. “You and your leprechaun family don’t mess around, Gallagher.”
Ian smiled a lazy, tipsy smile, and pecked Mickey’s cheek before Mickey could be embarrassed about it.
“D’you wanna dance with me?”
Ian’s hands slid off of his hips and entangled with Mickey’s hands that had been hanging limply at his sides, walking backwards so their fingers were laced together an arm’s distance apart.
Mickey shrugged noncommittally. “I’ll leave showing the Irish pride to you and the rest of the drunken Gallaghers.”
Ian registered Mickey’s words and opened his mouth to reply, just as Debbie pulled Ian over by the arm.
“Stop sulking with Mickey and do more shots with me!”
Jesus Christ. Ian was going to be wrecked when their alarm went off for work in the morning, and Mickey was starting to debate if he was going to need to have a talking-to with Debbie about the appropriate amount of “Saint Patrick’s Day fun” they were allowed to partake in next year— but for now Ian was happy, and he could stomach one night of hardcore festivities.
Mickey stood at the bar for a while, watching Ian and Debbie get progressively more flushed as they bobbed through the crowd— and then, when Debbie had found some other victim in their mid-twenties to get even more shitfaced with, Ian made his way across the room to Mickey again, plopping onto the barstool beside him and heaving his bodyweight onto Mickey’s left side, burying his face in the crook of Mickey’s neck. Mickey wrapped a tentative arm around Ian’s waist, trying to hold him up from slouching off of the barstool.
“M’tired.” Mickey could feel Ian’s hot breath dancing on his collarbone as he slurred out the words, and felt Ian’s eyelids flutter shut against the side of his neck.
Ian was always giving Mickey measured casual touches, wherever they were—but it was so exceedingly rare that Ian fully let himself go like this, let himself be drunk and happy and just crumple into Mickey, without worrying about holding anyone else up. It felt new, but it felt good— Mickey let the solid weight of his husband’s body leaning against his press him down, rooting him into the Alibi’s sticky floors, feeling the clammy skin of Ian’s forehead that was solidly lodged into the side of Mickey’s neck.
He hated to admit it, but in that moment, something in Mickey was also frozen solid— as much as Mickey had grown in the past few years, something about these situations, about PDA or whatever, still made Mickey feel like he was treading water—like he was fighting to stay afloat while everyone’s eyes were on him, and the strong current was only lifted when he and Ian were in the dark safety of their bedroom. If Mickey was drunk at a bar and sloppily leaning onto Ian, there was no doubt in Mickey’s mind that Ian would hold him, would gingerly touch him and caress him and do more to him than just prop him up— but something in Mickey still hesitated and flashed with warning signs in a crowded room full of people.
But Ian was still breathing hot on Mickey’s neck— so Mickey thought about what Ian would do, if it was Mickey who was tipsy and slumped on his shoulder. He tentatively raised his arm from where it was lying limply by his side, and started to run soothing circles onto Ian’s t-shirt, just above his hipbone where Mickey’s hand was holding Ian up by his waist.
Ian hummed in acknowledgement of the touch— and then he pressed a tender kiss to the crook of Mickey’s neck, where his face was buried. Fuck. Mickey just pulled him in closer, gently tugging Ian’s torso in by his belt loop to hold him steady.
Ian hummed again, then started to press kisses up and down Mickey’s neck. “You smell good.”
Mickey’s heart started to beat a little quicker, his blood running hotter than usual—and Ian couldn’t fucking do this now, while the rest of his family was milling around and dancing and wearing fucking mardi gras beads while flaunting their Gallagher pride.
Ian lifted his forehead off of Mickey’s shoulder, and gently bit at the underside of Mickey’s jaw—and Mickey thought he was going to combust right there, on the spot, in a room full of Gallaghers pressed against the bartop at the Alibi by his very drunk husband.
And in an act of excruciatingly inconvenient timing, Lip sidled up to the bar and sat on the barstool on Mickey’s other side, nursing what Mickey assumed (and hoped) was a diet Coke in a beer glass.
“Hey there, Mick. And, uh, Ian.”
Ian looked up from where he was very engrossed in continuing to nuzzle the opposite side of Mickey’s neck, and glared at Lip from across Mickey’s chest.
“Go away, Lip.” Ian collapsed his head back onto Mickey’s shoulder and closed his eyes again, wrapping his arms around Mickey’s neck like a fucking boa constrictor. Mickey snaked an arm up around Ian’s back, holding him steady on the wobbly barstool.
Lip held back a laugh as he sipped his drink, then took a drag of the cigarette he was holding. “Seems like Ian’s done enough drinking to make our ancestors proud.”
Mickey took a sip of his own beer with his free hand. “Debbie made sure of that.”
Lip raised his eyebrows. “Damn. Guess we’d better keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t also have the Frank gene.”
Mickey grunted in acknowledgement, then took another sip of his beer, mostly because he didn’t know what else to say. Ian’s head shifted slightly on his shoulder— and Mickey realized he probably needed to haul Ian home ASAP, before he was even more sleepy and incoherent and unable to lug down the street.
Lip noticed Ian’s movement on Mickey’s shoulder and smirked. “I’ve gotta say, I’ve never seen Ian being this clingy before. Even with other guys—no offense, Mick— he usually stayed pretty contained. And you guys aren’t usually too into the PDA department.”
Mickey shrugged, trying not to jostle the heavy weight of where Ian’s head was hanging. Lip was right—he and Ian never really were all over each other, especially not like this, outside of the context of their room, when they were very much always all over each other.
Lip kept studying them, and the corner of his mouth eventually ticked upward. “It’s good. He’s definitely not this… comfortable with anyone else. Including me, which is definitely saying something.”
It felt weird, to get something like what felt like Lip’s full blessing at a raunchy Gallagher party months after he and Ian had gotten married—but that was also exactly what it felt like was happening.
Lip’s eyes suddenly darted across the room, to where Tami was holding up his coat and gesturing to the door. Lip rose from the barstool, stubbed out his cigarette, and put out a hand to clap Mickey on the shoulder as a goodbye.
“Catch up with you later, Mick.” Lip reached out and jokingly tousled Ian’s hair. “Make sure this one doesn’t hate himself too much tomorrow morning.”
Mickey smirked. Ian was practically asleep and drooling on his shoulder, his breathing turned steady—Mickey reached a hand up to card through his hair, then gently shrugged his shoulder to get Ian’s head to rise from where it was jammed on his neck.
Ian raised his head, his eyes bleary and confused at first, then softening around the edges when he met Mickey’s gaze.
“Alright, let’s get you home, carrottop.”
#did i read this before posting it???? nope#this is so silly but was also living RENT FREE in my brain#also this is temporally separated from the last ep lol bc i do not have it in me to write anything heavy this week#drunk happy husbands only !!!!#🙅🏻♂️‼️#gallavich#gallavich fic#shameless#shameless fic#ian gallagher#mickey milkovich#ian x mickey#ian and mickey#ixm#gallavich fanfiction
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