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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Taking Advantage of The Moment (Max-centric; Max/Jaidynn if you squint) - Puppy

A/N: Hello, folks. I have posted things for writethehousedown, but this is my first time on AQ. After seeing/posting the Groundhog Day prompt, I wanted to take on the challenge. I’ve always been fascinated with time loops, so heck. Here we go. Max and Jaidynn’s relationship here can be seen as either platonic or romantic.

TW: Panic/anxiety attack

Summary: Max Malanphy finds herself reliving her elimination day over and over and over and over again.

Max solemnly rolled her bags out of the workroom for the- who knows how many times it was at this point. She understood completely what the universe was trying to tell her.

Was her runway not up to standards as other times? Yes. Was her Snatch Game performance questionable at best and terrible at worst? Well, she was literally near her last possible choice since producers disapproved of her first few choices. If only this stretched to yesterday, the grey lady thought to herself, I could’ve thrown in a line about Party City or something like that… She had already accepted that she lost the lip-sync against Jaidynn too. She was a damn good performer and 80s’ R&B wasn’t generally in Max’s repertoire. So why the hell was this still happening?

Perhaps she’d sleep on it, but that was useless. She’d wake back up on the same day. It seems she had lost count of the many things she had tried to do to finally fly back home. 

~~~

“This seems a little familiar… repetitive even…” Max approached Violet with some caution.

“You’re the one getting read about your wigs, and you talk to me about repetitive?” The one-of-a-kind collectable joked, or at least attempted to. She was still getting used to the whole ‘bring a warmer person’ thing.

“Shouldn’t I have gone home already?”

Violet tilted her head in slight confusion. “What do you mean? I think it was Kandy’s time and…” she beckoned Max to lean down so she could whisper into her ear. “You didn’t hear it from me, but your Merle Ginsberg… wasn’t that bad last week.”

Max’s fears were assuaged until she got on the runway. The brightness of the lights and the tightness of the corset creeped back into play. She once found herself asking to loosen her outfit and sitting at the edge of the stage. Yep, she was reliving the moment that sent her home.

~~~

Around the fourth or seventh time she had been eliminated, Max had practically memorized the backstage conversations. “Well, now we know what she really sounds like!” Ginger joked, prompting a fit of laughter and a punch to the arm. Max hoped to have hit her face, but she wasn’t that far gone yet.

She once attempted to shed her purported prudish nature in another loop. She started conversations about what she once deemed vulgar, but all she had got was strange looks and reminders she was sharing too much information. She didn’t speak again until critiques. 

Immediately after (or was it two times after?), she had tried her best to be the friend that everyone needed. She’d help with outfits and accompanied Fame and Katya as extra moral support. Among the sewing and helping others with makeup, she barely had time for herself. The moment she stepped onto the runway, she barely put on a face of makeup and nearly fainted from lack of energy. Thankfully, she woke back up in her hotel room and last night’s pajamas.

The most recent loop was just spent in utter silence. Max had just… broke. She dared not speak or respond to anyone. She had choked back inaudible tears everywhere she went that day until the runway. As she was sweating under the lights, she prayed that she would pass out again. The voices in her head overpowered anything that she wanted to come out of her mouth. The ones constantly nagged at her for every decision she made on that show.

In an attempt to direct her attention away from those voices, her focus shifted elsewhere. This elsewhere unfortunately was drilled on the various sets of eyes staring at her, and the thousands more who would see it once it was edited and aired to the public. How many people would consider this some stunt? They’d probably think she was crazy or delusional.

She’d whisk herself back to Oz in times like this to cope, but it didn’t work. Any time she’d try, she would be trapped in the Witch’s castle near the crystal ball. “Auntie Em, I’m frightened…” Max whispered to herself as she slowly got back up. Hopefully the tear stains would have dried out of the corset by the time.

Max remained silent backstage. She knew what the judges’ verdicts were going to be; why bother discussing them? The outcome was the same yet again. She’d pack, she’d sleep, she’d wake up to walk the runway yet again.

As she woke up yet again, a thought crossed her mind. All of her attempts to actively change the situation ended up making things worse. The day kept repeating. Max got up out of bed and stared at her reflection. Had she been too much in her head? She chuckled; if she was that far in her, Fame probably would have gotten the joke by now. The queen took a deep breath in and vowed this. Go through the day as it was any other. Don’t make any drastic changes, Maxie. If you do, just… have them be small and insignificant. Try to make someone happy. The grey lady sighed and officially got ready for yet another loop of the same day. If this was the last, that would make her one extremely happy person. If it wasn’t, she would go back to trying… maybe ask Violet for a cincher this time.

~~~

“You’re done early,” Ginger noticed Max from her peripherals.

“Well, I’ve basically worn the same face since I’ve been here, so I guess practice amounts to shaving off a few minutes.” Max retorted as she admired herself a little longer. Her red contacts stared back at her: the leather-bound black widow. She laughed at her own little joke. The other girls couldn’t possibly know what that little comment also meant. The queen hummed a show tune to herself as she waited until filming started.

Being done this early felt so surreal, almost voyeuristic. The now black-haired lady stared among the workroom, eyeing her little corner of the room in particular: the various wigs and looks she wasn’t going to bring to the public. Perhap she could use this time to start packing again; there was no need to delay the inevitable. She let out a sigh as she stared at her belongings.

“Hey, girl. You seem a bit out of it today.” Max was shaken out of her reverie and looked down at the shorter queen.

“It’s nothing, really,” Max lied, but saw that there was no use doing so. For all she knew Jaidynn was going to forget it the next time this happened; telling her wouldn’t hurt. In fact, it was cathartic for the tall one. “Never mind.. It has felt a little strange. Ever since I’ve been here, it’s been as if I was in a dream and I still haven’t quite woken up yet. Speaking of… I’ve probably already asked you this, but can you pinch me?”

“Did you get enough sleep last night?” Ever concerned, Jaidynn leaned against the wall and attempted to hold her friend’s hand.”I think this may have been the first time we saw each other today.”

“I’ve been reliving this day for gods know how long. Sleep is the least of my worries.”

“Have you actually done so or is this just ‘Max language’ for something else? I get that filming has been repetitive and it’s all routine, but I doubt that you’re going through some Bill Murray shit.” Max had a tendency to speak entirely in metaphor; Jaidynn and others on set knew that first hand. When she spoke, she often spoke in terms of Oz and werewolves when she wasn’t giving sage advice. When she wasn’t inside of her head, she was off in another world where magic is real and nothing can go wrong. Thank goodness she had folks who could snap her back to reality.

Max nodded her head as she then eyed Fame and Katya in another corner of the room, silently mumbling along to their conversation to prove her point.

“Damn, girl. That sounds pretty cool. It would definitely come in handy. You could improve on your looks and save yourself if you were ever on the bottom.”

Max widened her eyes, not wanting to say too much. She already violated her mission by confiding in Jaidynn. “I’ve already done so much. What else is there to do?” Before she could say anything more, a PA had come in telling them to line up. “Shall we continue this later?”

Before they knew it, the arduous hours of judging had passed yet again and the critiqued queens headed backstage. “Did.. did that happen every time? You sounded good” Jaidynn asked about the corset mishap. All Max could do was nod her head and laugh.

“Sometimes, I’d switch up the song,” she whispered back and giggled. “I remember I did ‘Over the Rainbow’ one night… ‘The Man That Got Away’ another… One night, I think I-”

“The accent…”

“What about it?”

“You lost it for a second there.”

“I- I did?” Max shouldn’t have been surprised, but she just stopped for a second. It felt strange, having slipped out of this persona she had made for herself after having maintained it for filming and then some, but also freeing too. It was as if a giant weight had been lifted off her shoulders. “Didn’t even realize.” She laughed a little louder than she normally did, garnering more attention that she usually got. Max and Jaidynn joined the other girls with smiles on their faces and an underlying sense of uncertainty.

Sitting with her fellow castmates wasn’t the best thing in the world. There was no doubt that Max Malanaphy was an introverted figure. When they were normally congregated backstage, she would be among them, but barely contribute. Her comfort zone could only extend so far. She’d often flock where Violet or Pearl were, so she could talk about her day and how the other queens acted towards her, but that was the longest she’d have a conversation. The constant loops had certainly made things easier for the young lady. The only time she broke away from the conversation was to practice the song with Jaidynn.

“You really don’t have to do this, Max. I mean… you have the song down better than me at this point.” The Nashville queen remarked, taking a headphone out of one ear.

Max blushed a little at the remark and bounced the curls of her wig with one hand. “Don’t puff me up too much, dear; I wouldn’t want to send you home tonight,” She awkwardly laughed afterwards. “I’d still very much want it to be an even playing field… or as even as possible considering circumstances.” Jaidynn popped the earbud back in and they continued to listen together, mostly in peace and quiet. The song looped on repeat until the five minute warning came around once again.

“You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“What happens after this?” Jaidynn started as she was lining back up. “I’m gonna forget all this ever happened, I guess…”

Max was shaken by the suddenness of the statement. She had never really considered the implications of Jaidynn’s situation. This whole day would be meaningless “I mean it depends… I might go through the wringer again.” Her cadence suddenly began to speed back up to an alarming pace. “The outcomes of the lip sync might change but it does not seem likely at the moment because I’m pretty sure Michelle hates me and they’d want me out as soon as possible but who knows, it might be a double sashay or a double shantay or I might win or no one wins or-” She stopped herself yet again, but her breathing became much more erratic. Now wasn’t the time for yet another breakdown.

Jaidynn attempted to cup her tall fishy friend’s face, but settled for squeezing her hand. It would have looked ridiculous due to their sizes. “Look at me,” she started as Max crouched to her height. “No matter what happens, you’re gonna kick ass. I’ve seen you, girl, and you’re a badass performer. You’ll turn it out.”

“The Shakespeare challenge…” Max’s eyes widened as she realized what Jaidynn had just said.

“What about it?”

“You used my own encouragement against me!”

“Y-yeah.. I figured it’d help.”

“And it did.” Max curtsied and kissed the back of the hand Jaidynn was still holding before throwing herself into a hug. “It’s just… I- I’ll make sure you won’t forget me.”

“Do you promise?”

“I swear.” That was the last thing Max had said before the final lip sync.

Like most go-rounds, the outcome was the same. Jaidynn had lived to see another week while Max was sent packing yet again. This time was different; she didn’t feel as defeated as she had previously been. She had said a speech, blown a kiss, then left the stage with as much dignity and grace as she had entered.

It was melancholic seeing the looks that she wouldn’t be able to show the judges, but it wasn’t too bad. She’d probably see them the next day. That was the least of her troubles at that moment. The only thought occupying Max’s mind was Jaidynn. If this was her last tomorrow, how was she going to let her friend know she was safe and that she made it out with a little bit of sanity intact? Before she left the workroom yet again, Max tied the handkerchief that was paired with her final runway look to the end of the table where her friend’s stuff was. She took one hopefully final glance at the workroom and didn’t look back. All she could do was pray that she’d wake up with a phone the next day.

~~~

The next time Max walked into the werk room, she wasn’t alone.

She followed behind the eliminated queens. It was nice seeing everyone again. She apologized to Trixie for saying she’d win it for her, but her college friend laughed it off, saying it wasn’t that big of a deal. It was also quite lovely seeing Sasha and Kasha and Kandy again, as well as Tempest and Jasmine, but something felt missing.

Although she was ultimately paired up with Violet (something she was happy about), she still couldn’t get her mind off of Jaidynn. She was the only person she had trusted with probably the most valuable information of her life. Just seeing her had to have been enough evidence she was back. For all she knew, it could have been a couple more loops since she returned from Jaidynn’s perspective. Memory was a funny thing. For now, she just had to pretend as if her first yesterday was the only time the elimination had happened. There was a possibility of returning to the competition tonight.

“I think you might have forgot this.” Max put part of her corset down and looked up at a familiar face. There Jaidynn was with the little black shawl in her hand. She maintained herself the best that she could, but it didn’t last much longer. The tall queen hugged Jaidynn as hard as she could.

“Thank you…” Max whispered as a few tears started to form. “Thank you, darling, for everything.”

#rpdr fanfiction #max malanaphy #jaidynn diore fierce #ginger minj #jaidynn x max #angst #hurt/comfort #fluff #canon compliant #on set fic #groundhog day au #s7 #taking advantage of the moment #puppy #tw panic attack #rare pair

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vixxscifiwritings · 4 years ago

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lilac melancholy

Length - 4590 words

Characters - Hongbin x Sanghyuk, VIXX Ensemble

Rating - Teen and Up

Summary - Sanghyuk wonders bitterly if he has loved Hongbin or if he has regretted him longer.

Tag List - @tomatoholmes @merlionmen @seraphistols @k-craze-97 @blossomtearsleo

The days that pass by are drowsy, packed with heat and the roaring noise of factory machines from the mills three blocks over. The posters peel off the electricity pole, revealing the maroon red rusting beneath. A single touch would result in your skin burning from the ferrous substrate.

The power is gone once again, like it usually was during the afternoons. Hongbin watches as Sanghyuk flips through the pages of the copy of Sputnik Sweetheart , stolen from his older brother’s bookshelf. Sanghyuk is too young to understand these stories, his brother insists. What does a thirteen year old know of people feeling melancholy and emptiness from unrequited love and unattachment?

Hongbin likes to think that he knows. There is a far away look in his eyes now, an emptiness inside him ever since his mother finally up and left. His father abandons all pretenses of the family being together and stops coming home entirely that one fateful night in April. At fifteen, Hongbin understands melancholy and loneliness in ways Sanghyuk’s brother thinks Sanghyuk won’t.

“You’re doing that thinking thing again” Sanghyuk points out and Hongbin hums. It is June now and it is far too hot for Hongbin to sling his arms around Sanghyuk’s waist and bury his face in his shoulder to hide the emotions that are always on display on his face. He hates that the most about himself even if he feels safe enough in Sanghyuk’s presence.

“It’ll be good if you thought in a while too” Hongbin retorts, letting the sassy facade take over. How many times can he be sad about the same things till Sanghyuk gives up on consoling him?

“Are you thinking about your mother?”

“What makes you say that?”

“It was her birthday yesterday. I saw you looking at the calendar you have hidden away under your mattress” Sanghyuk confesses. His voice is still high pitched and hasn’t grown deep the way Hongbin’s has. In his childlike voice, everything sounds naive and innocent and Hongbin always forgives him for it. There is not much room to hide secrets in this sixteen by twenty feet room they share.

“It’s okay to miss her,” Sanghyuk adds, putting his arm around Hongbin’s waist. Hongbin turns to his left to look at Sanghyuk. His face is only a few inches from his own and his gaze is steady, searching for the answers to the complex maze of emotions that Hongbin himself does not have.

“I don’t want to miss her. Not when everyone knows she doesn’t miss me” Hongbin says. It’s commendable that the anger and bitterness he has kept bottled up doesn’t explode vehemently into those lines. The feelings flood his mind every time the topic is brought up and Hongbin does his best to stop the flow of emotions with the success of duct tape holding together a pipe bursting at its seams.

“Okay” Sanghyuk says. His actions are different from his words because he pulls Hongbin in and holds him and lets Hongbin bury his face in Sanghyuk’s neck like he always does. He kisses the back of Hongbin’s head and pats his back and lets Hongbin intertwine his legs with his own and holds him despite the stuffy heat. The sun shines angrily on the dry ground outside but Hongbin thinks he only has a grey misty sky clouding his mind.

“Will you leave me when you grow up?” Hongbin asks Sanghyuk. Sanghyuk’s brother will leave in September. He’ll go to a reputed college on the other side of the country and that will be one more person in his found family who does not come back home regularly.

“You’re older than me. You’ll be the one who leaves first” Sanghyuk reminds him.

“Kiss me” Hongbin asks in lieu of replying. Those are demons he harbours for darker days. Hongbin is selfish that way. He will hold onto whatever he can for however long he has it because he knows nothing lasts. The old yellowing wedding card promising eternal love and happiness that his father hides in his closet is proof that nothing lasts.

But when he feels Sanghyuk’s lips on his own the static in his mind drops to a quiet hum. Sanghyuk is skinny and his body feels bony under Hongbin’s small fingers. Sanghyuk hovers over him and his weight is a pleasant distraction from the world. The way Hongbin calls Sanghyuk’s name when he runs his fingers through his hair is a rhythmic metronome that is spoken in hushed tones to keep his dependency on Sanghyuk’s affection a secret from the rest of the world.

Sanghyuk falls asleep in Hongbin’s arms but when he wakes up, Hongbin is not in his room. His brother tells him that he went home and comments on how odd it is and how Hongbin should move in with them properly instead of staying in that lonely apartment. Sanghyuk nods but knows Hongbin won’t return for a few more days.

Sanghyuk doesn’t see him for days following moments like the one they shared earlier today. It happened the first time they kissed and the second and the third. It will happen again tomorrow. Maybe Sanghyuk will see him by the field, playing football with Wonshik and inviting him to join the game like nothing has happened. Or maybe hanging out at the cafe in the mall because the part timer there has a soft spot for him and always gives him free milkshakes. Sanghyuk doesn’t know.

He tries not to think about it and goes back to reading.

If there is one part about growing up that Sanghyuk thinks he will never get used to, it’s the parties. He likes people but he doesn’t like dozens of them stuffed into tiny spaces that reek of smoke and cheap shitty alcohol that is more likely to cause nausea over intoxication. He draws his jacket close and finds a chair by the kitchen’s island counter to sit on.

It’s the premium view to everyone else’s bad decisions. Sanghyuk regrets not bringing his earphones along (he swears they should be in the pocket of his jacket). He makes peace with listening to whatever indie song is playing in the background. Or whatever is audible of it over the incessant chattering of the crowd.

“Leather looks good on you,” Hongbin says, materializing out of nowhere to grab a cup of the fruit punch that has definitely been spiked.

“Thanks,” Sanghyuk says, pulling on the cuff. The leather jacket is an old jacket that his father almost throws out but Sanghyuk sneaks back in. It has cracks around the elbow where it has been bent up and two yellow stripes on the right sleeve but he doesn’t know what that signifies. He likes to think it’s a cult of sorts. The allure of being part of an underground secret society is always high.

“Kinda short for your normal sleeves,” Hongbin says, tugging on the part of Sanghyuk’s overshirt that peeks through from the jacket. It’s dark blue and not visible in the dim purple lights till you really go looking. His father was shorter than him whenever he got this jacket but Sanghyuk knows Hongbin is not interested in explanations. Sanghyuk focuses on the way the rough skin of his fingers feel against his softer skin. Hongbin has rough hands from all the chores he does on his own and lack of belief in hand creams that Sanghyuk’s baby sister rubs on his hands during tea parties insisting he keep them soft.

Hongbin focuses on looking at Jaehwan across the room. Jaehwan who has blonde hair now and is leaning against the wall while laughing at something someone from the football team said. Sanghyuk doesn’t know the name of the dude but he isn’t interested in finding out. Even while Hongbin asks after Sanghyuk’s family and school life, his eyes stray towards that corner of the room.

When Jaehwan returns his gaze and smiles at Hongbin, Hongbin smiles in a way his dimples appear. He has one of those faces. The kind you would see on magazines on the racks of newspaper stands at bus stops. The black eyeliner enhances his brown eyes and Sanghyuk thinks that all Hongbin is missing is a pretty nude shade lipstick. Though lipsticks do nothing except spread inconveniently when being kissed. Or so he has been told.

He hasn’t kissed Hongbin since the summer where he was fourteen but the urge never really goes away.

“I think I should go get a refill,” Hongbin says when Jaehwan walks over. Sanghyuk shrugs and Hongbin makes a beeline for the punch the same time Jaehwan appears by the island counter. Jaehwan is only here to chaperone his younger brother who is throwing the party, Sanghyuk gathers from the bits of conversation filtering through. The music is too loud for indoor voices to be heard. Hongbin is here just because Wonshik wanted to get drunk. Sanghyuk doesn’t need to eavesdrop to know that.

He taps out when the conversation progresses. He finds Wonshik who is truly wasted and is glad someone out of the three in this friend group is getting what they want out of the night. Sanghyuk wonders if it is a fair standard of evaluation if he started the night without knowing what he wanted. He looks towards Hongbin who is laughing at a weird face Jaehwan is making and adds a thought about unrealistic wants and needs.

It’s stupid. Hongbin is nineteen but is as unreachable as someone who would be twenty five. Hongbin is too pretty for him. Too smart, too pretty and too witty. They have too much history. And now Hongbin is kissing Jaehwan and is definitely not in love with Sanghyuk the way Sanghyuk is in love with him.

Wonshik pouts at Sanghyuk and leans forward till his head rests on Sanghyuk’s shoulder. Wonshik is only an inch taller. In a year or two, Sanghyuk is confident he will outgrow the other man. “I wish they wouldn’t suck faces in public” Wonshik grimaces when he follows Sanghyuk’s line of vision. Sanghyuk looks away and tugs his jacket closer. Maybe it is too short for him after all since it cannot afford the comfort of sleeve paws the way sweaters can. Maybe he should get a new jacket. Or maybe Sanghyuk should have just stayed at home.

Wonshik has a ride home and waves Sanghyuk off when he leaves the party. He makes his way to the bus stop at the end of the block and sits down. The party music is a hum in the background and the cold air is sobering. Sanghyuk weighs his options. He can go home and read for the rest of the night or walk to the arcade five blocks away and blow the rest of his pocket money and see if he can earn enough tickets to buy himself the badly stitched teddy bears they sell.

Hongbin likes those teddy bears. He’ll lie and say no if you ask him and spout bullshit about how they just represent the principle of winning that he loves so much. But he is a sucker for cute things and Sanghyuk knows from the way his eyes lit up when Sanghyuk won a brown teddy bear and threw it at him last summer. He has a small version threaded into the metal ring that acts as a keychain.

Sanghyuk thinks that he should stop thinking.

One year. Just a year, he tells himself. Then he’ll be off to university and he will meet other people and he might even discover that he doesn’t actually like dimples or brown eyes or rough hands so much. One more year and he won’t be haunted by the unrequited feelings that seem to grow stronger instead of fading against all laws of the universe and logic.

Sanghyuk treks back home and thinks he should worry about saving up for a second hand car or actually passing that stupid driver’s test. He finds his earphones tangled with the fabric of the inner pocket of his jacket once he reaches home and he laughs at the bad luck of his timing.

Hongbin doesn’t realise that he has gotten used to the loneliness that comes from Sanghyuk’s absence.

He calls during the first year of university. Hongbin thinks Sanghyuk’s voice on the phone sounds very different from the way it sounds in real life. It sounds deeper and grave in ways Hongbin doesn’t remember. Sanghyuk has always been wise beyond his years. Maybe he thrives in the real world with the same grown up concerns that Hongbin does not like grappling with.

Then Sanghyuk gets an email id because it is useful and sends emails instead of calling. The letters are short and really Hongbin is shit at keeping in touch because he doesn’t have anyone else who tries. Wonshik has always been in the same town and Sanghyuk has always been around to the point that Hongbin took his presence for granted. He never thought Sanghyuk would ever go away like his brother did.

The emails come once a week and then once a month and finally on holidays and only contain generic good wishes.

Until Wonshik shows up at his door with Sanghyuk in tow,carrying a small duffle bag filled with clothes and essentials. It’s just for a week while Wonshik’s studio gets renovated, he assures him. Sanghyuk only needs a couch to crash on for a week and he can move back in with Wonshik for the rest of winter till he has to go back to university for his final semester. Hongbin didn’t even know that Sanghyuk was in town and he used to know every secret once upon a time. He doesn’t know why he isn’t staying with his family and he doesn’t know if he can ask.

“You can stay as long as you need,” Hongbin says, offering to make coffee for everyone. Wonshik denies the offer. He needs to leave first and look over the renovation work on his studio.

Sanghyuk looks nothing like Hongbin remembers him. He is taller than Wonshik by a few inches and his voice is deeper. His shoulders are broad and the large overshirts he wears only accentuate them. He took to working out when they still talked on the phone. He must definitely be more muscular too. Gone is the lanky teenager in his father;s old leather jacket that Hongbin remembers. Instead Sanghyuk is an adult who looks more mature than he should for the young age of twenty one.

“I didn’t think you read Hemingway” Sanghyuk says, picking up a copy of Farewell To Arms that’s lying on the coffee table.

“It isn’t my book. Taekwoon tends to leave behind whatever he is reading at the moment” Hongbin tells him. Taekwoon does that a lot. Forgetting things at Hongbin’s place and coming back for them weeks later when he is finally free enough to spend the night. It’s a peaceful arrangement for their unlabelled relationship. If he can even call it a relationship.

“Are you sure Taekwoon doesn’t mind me staying over?” Sanghyuk asks.

“Taekwoon doesn’t live here. Not fully anyways. And if anything, he would be happy to meet another bookworm” Hongbin shrugs.

“He’ll be disappointed. It’s been a while since I didn’t read a book to write a critique or a report on it” Sanghyuk says ruefully.

He flips through the pages till he finds the section he was looking for and folds up his legs to read comfortably. Sanghyuk spends the next two days voraciously reading through the books Taekwoon has left behind. He doesn’t talk more than necessary. It snows on the third morning that Sanghyuk stays over and they exchange remarks about the weather. Hongbin opens up a bottle of wine on Christmas eve and Sanghyuk accompanies him wordlessly.

He prefers white wine, Hongbin supposes when Sanghyuk downs the entire contents of his glass and grimaces at the after taste. He has grown to tolerate the taste of mushrooms and no longer separates them out of the microwaveable pasta meal that Hongbin makes. He prefers typing on his laptop to writing in notebooks, he gathers when he sees Sanghyuk tapping away on the kitchen table with a mug full of coffee next to him. It’s the ‘World’s Best Mom’ mug that Taekwoon left behind that Hongbin finds supremely ugly but it matches Sanghyuk’s presence. Unconnected but a lone puzzle piece that sits as the centerpiece in the void of Hongbin’s life.

Sanghyuk doesn’t smoke, Hongbin finds when they are lying on Hongbin’s bed in his bedroom and Sanghyuk denies the offer. Never took a liking to it, Sanghyuk confesses. Hongbin listens to a vinyl that Wonshik gifted him two years ago for his birthday and Sanghyuk says nothing about the 80s music. He thumbs through the earmarked pages of a collection of poems by T S Elliot.

“Taekwoon must really like classics” Sanghyuk deduces. There are very few books on the coffee table but Sanghyuk is intimately acquainted with them in ways Hongbin isn’t.

“He’s a sucker for them. Also likes Murakami the way you did in high school” Hongbin answers. He doesn’t get the appeal for reading. He doesn’t have the talent of losing himself in the written word that Taekwoon and Sanghyuk do. He doesn’t even know if he should envy them for the easily available method of escaping the dreary world around them.

“He has good taste” Sanghyuk compliments him.

“It’s a shame that you couldn’t meet him on this visit. He’s off celebrating Christmas with his family.”

“There will be many days in the future,” Sanghyuk says lazily. The way he turns the other way and avoids looking at Hongbin tells him that the other days will not come any time soon. Hongbin thinks of the emails in his inbox that he merely glances over and never knows how to reply to and doesn’t blame Sanghyuk.

If only he didn’t have to leave tomorrow. If only he could stay.

When Hongbin puts his arm around Sanghyuk’s waist and closes his eyes, he pretends he has the right to ask him to stay and that Sanghyuk won’t be gone the morning after. He’ll only be a few streets down the road in Wonshik’s studio till spring comes and he might even visit if he stops being a coward that only regrets and never acts.

His waist is broader than Taekwoon’s and Hongbin keeps that comparison in mind for days after when Taekwoon finally comes to visit and Hongbin hugs him to kiss him. Everything is back to normal now that Sanghyuk is gone once again but the world feels displaced out of orbit by the knowledge of what Hongbin is missing.

“I met Sanghyuk” Wonshik says, running his hands through his hair. He adjusts his chair for the fifteenth time since the conversation has started, much to the displeasure of the lady at the table over, trying to read the newspaper in peace.

“That… is sudden” Hongbin says, swirling the creamer into his coffee. Hongbin has known that Wonshik was seeing someone for a while now but doesn’t know who till the confession. Now there is a name that Hongbin hasn’t heard in years. A person he couldn’t live without once but has not talked to in four years. Is he allowed to miss him after never keeping in touch?

“He’s back for good this time” Wonshik tells him. “He’s going to teach at our old middle school. He’s weirded out by the idea of being colleagues with his old teachers. Did you know Mrs Kim is still teaching math after all these years? I thought she was over sixty when we were kids.”

Wonshik rambles on and Hongbin pays him no thought. Sanghyuk’s name brings up memories and feelings that it shouldn’t. Hongbin wonders if he has gotten any taller or if his voice is still deeper than he remembers and if he signs off emails with regards.

“We should have dinner together sometime,” Hongbin says when Wonshik finally stops.

“I’ll text him. You can’t bail like you did last time though” Wonshik warns. Hongbin flinches at the warning and offers an apologetic smile. Wonshik frowns at him. “It’s been a while since the three of us got time to hang out. It has literally been years since we properly spent time together.”

“Well, I’m not the one that shifted towns and lost touch, am I?” Hongbin says out loud without meaning to.

Wonshik’s expression softens and he shifts again awkwardly. Hongbin and Sanghyuk’s estrangement as they grew older when Wonshik once thought they were in love with each other as teenagers is a development he never addresses because he knows it wasn’t his place to. Realistically speaking, he can’t be friends with both people and skirt around the issue forever. A decade is a miracle on that count.

“I’m sorry. I just… Will you text Sanghyuk and set dinner up?” Hongbin apologizes. His pleasant facade is back and Wonshik knows he will never see his true feelings about the issue again. The bitterness is real in a way most of Hongbin’s actions aren’t. And it gives him hope to salvage this friendship. Wonshik doesn’t fancy losing friends as he grows older when he only has so many to begin with.

“It’s okay to say you missed him, you know? I missed him too” Wonshik says without the expectations of acknowledgement or responses. Hongbin hums in the way people do when lying about agreeing with something a child says. Wonshik knows Hongbin is complicated and he doesn’t expect him to resolve his feelings any time soon.

“I wonder if he likes moving back to town after living in a big city all these years” Hongbin deflects. He hasn’t acknowledged his feelings in the four years since he last saw Sanghyuk and he isn’t about to start now. Any moments of weakness like the one earlier will not be repeated again.

It takes two bottles of soju only for Hongbin to mess up. Wonshik drags the two of them to a tent bar that sells a variety of rice cakes along with cheap soju and beer and Hongbin agrees despite the lack of fried chicken. It’s a Friday night and the three of them drink the night away and laugh at Sanghyuk’s stories from his earlier teaching days. Stories that range from innocent but hilarious spelling mistakes in answer papers to outrageous pranks that Sanghyuk personally admires but must punish as a teacher.

A laughing and happy Sanghyuk is better than the sad young man who spent a week on Hongbin’s couch, not talking to him about the troubles weighing on his mind. Happiness suits him in ways melancholy never did. Hongbin thinks his skin shines and his eyes twinkle and Sanghyuk must know this because he catches Hongbin looking at him and looks at him with such pity in his eyes. Sanghyuk pities him and Hongbin feels pathetic about feeling happy that he feels something.

And so Hongbin leans on his arm all the way home even after they drop Wonshik off at his apartment. He leans on his arm and holds onto it like a drowning sailor holding onto a lifebuoy so they don’t drown. And he tells Sanghyuk about how his hair is soft and shiny and his nose is a tiny button and he cannot help but lean up and graze his lips against it. Sanghyuk laughs and calls him drunk but lets him bask in his warmth because Sanghyuk is his puzzle piece that fits with his odd edges, even if he will never say those words out loud.

Sanghyuk is surprisingly strong because he hauls Hongbin up to his feet and all the way to his apartment. Hongbin kisses him on his cheeks and thanks him for taking him home while laughing about… about something. He doesn’t know what it is that triggers his giggling fit but something does and Hongbin exclaims at Sanghyuk who is ready to drop him on his butt in front of his door if he doesn’t get his keys out soon. He exclaims at him and kisses him on his lips when he has his attention and this is why alcohol is terrible for you really. All of this is a regret in waiting for the morning after.

Sanghyuk stumbles on his way down the stairs in a way that makes it look like he never learnt how to walk. His cheeks are warm where Hongbin kissed him and his lips tingle in the way they do after eating something extremely spicy. He leans against the pole of the lamp post and sighs when the tingling doesn’t go away. He thinks of how he will hide this from Hakyeon.

It’s so easy to say nothing but a part of him vehemently protests about deceiving Hakyeon when Sanghyuk knows his residual feelings for Hongbin still linger. He should love his boyfriend more than the old flame who kissed him in the hallway. He shouldn’t have to remind himself that he loves Hakyeon and not Hongbin. Hakyeon is the one waiting for the text that says he got home safely and didn’t drink too much and he really shouldn’t let Wonshik drag him out on school nights. Not Hongbin, who Sanghyuk just dropped home, drunk out of his mind and still as complicated at thirty as he was at thirteen.

Sanghyuk really hates Hongbin more on nights like these.

“I don’t know what to do” he confesses to Hakyeon weeks after they break up. His feelings for Hongbin have always been a vine that grips his heart. He knows he cannot be rid of them without significant pain and hurt and so like a coward, he lets it fester because he knows he can ignore them forever. The roots dig into the walls of his heart and make him bleed and he bleeds because he is the biggest coward to exist on this planet.

“You do what your heart tells you is the right thing” is all Hakyeon says. He’s disappointed and it’s more than Sanghyuk deserves after everything Sanghyuk has just told Hakyeon. Hakyeon who is all gentle smiles and understanding and who Sanghyuk is grateful to even if it must end this way.

“Loving Hongbin is dangerous. He hurts you and nothing comes out of it and then he hurts you some more” Sanghyuk tells Hakyeon. Hongbin hasn’t called or texted after that night. Sanghyuk hasn’t either but its only because he knows Hongbin hates confronting his own feelings. He breaks hearts before his own can be broken and Sanghyuk thinks limbo of not knowing is better than definite pain.

“I don’t think you have it in you to stop,” Hakyeon says. His words would hurt if Sanghyuk didn’t feel tormented enough already. He sighs because he has no words and Hakyeon shifts the topic to other things that don’t matter in the moment and keeps the chatter up till it is no longer awkward to end the phone call.

When the call ends, Sanghyuk brings up his messaging app and stares at Hongbin’s number and watches the bubbles appear and disappear in the messages window. As always, no texts follow and Sanghyuk leaves his phone on the nightstand because he should know better than to have hope.

Sanghyuk wonders bitterly if he has loved Hongbin or if he has regretted him longer.

#vixx fanfiction #vixx hongbin #vixx hyuk #hyukbin #angst #dysfunctional relationship

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allaboutthebooz · 6 years ago

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Send My Love (To Your New Lover) Part Six

Summary: Y/N avoids Jensen at all costs.

Warnings: Mild angst.

A/N: Alright guys, here is part six. It is shorter than usual, but it is just a filler piece because part seven will have all the juicy bits coming. Nothing will be holding me back the rest of the weekend and if we’re lucky, maybe I can post the new part on Monday night to ring in the new year. So enjoy!

The next few weeks dragged on. Filming was harder than you thought it would be, but you pretended like nothing was wrong. Being an actress, it was easy to fool everyone around you. Aside from Amanda, Jared, and Jensen, no one else knew about the terrible conversation that happened on your first day back. You all pushed through, so that there would as little reshoots as possible. Jared and Jensen goofing off less than usual, to keep things moving and to keep you as placated as possible.

You barely spoke to Jensen. Avoiding him as much as possible. Ignoring the call of your name from his lips as soon as you all wrapped for the day. Thank goodness for Jared. With him still being upset with Jensen about how he handled everything between you two, he made sure to keep Jensen away from you, telling him that you needed you space and that he needed to respect that.

It felt like the season 14 Wrap-Party would never get here. Everyone celebrating the end of filming and getting ready for hiatus. Everyone, except you. You had booked you flight to Texas for that night, not wanting to hang around any longer. Not wanting Jensen to find the opportunity to corner you. You had told Jared what you were planning, and he called Gen immediately. She was excited to have you with them for a couple weeks. You were ready to see her and the kids. Their undying and unconditional love was exactly what you needed right now. You couldn’t wait to be wrapped up in their little arms. Couldn’t wait to have them burst into your room in the mornings and pile on top of you to wake you up.

You didn’t have any siblings, so being with Jared and his family, was like having a big brother and they were your niece and nephews. Loving them was easy. You couldn’t imagine loving anything more, until you had children of your own. Maybe one day.

You had just wrapped for the season and were headed back to your trailer, when you hear your name being called. You look behind you to see Misha chasing after you.

“Hey, Mish.”

He falls in line beside you as you continue to walk. “Hey. Are you done for the day?”

“Yeah. I’m headed to my trailer to finish packing. I’m flying out tonight.”

“Oh. You’re not staying for the party?”

“I really didn’t plan on it. As much as I would love to hang out and drink with all of you, I need to get away for a bit.”

“Oh okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but it’s been really tough being here.” You both reach the steps for your trailer. You climb up and open the door, inviting Misha in.

He closes the door behind him as you move through the trailer getting stuff together. “Yeah I know. I just hate that he’s driving you away from us.”

That simple statement makes you stop and turn to him. “It’s not forever, Misha. It’s just-It’s only for a little while. I just need to get over everything and it’s hard to do that when he’s everywhere I turn. It’s hard knowing what I know and not want to punch him in the face.”

“You never told me what happened. Either of you.”

You sigh. “I don’t really want to talk about it anymore. If you really want to know, ask Jared. I doubt Jensen will tell you. He didn’t even tell his best friend.”

He winces, and you turn around to finish gathering what you need. The weight of the world on your shoulders. “It was really that bad, huh?”

“Makes me wish I never renewed my contract.”

“I’m sorry Y/N/N. I don’t know what else to say besides that.”

“It’s fine, Mish.”

He is quiet for a moment before saying, “Well, I’ll let you get to packing. Come say goodbye before you leave. I know we’ll see each other in a few weeks, but the rest of the crew won’t.”

“Yeah, I will. Thanks Misha.”

“Of course.” And with that, he’s gone. Leaving you to pack your bags and head to the food tent for a quick bite before your flight.

You’re stopped by different cast and crew members along the way. You say your goodbyes and reach the tent. When you step through the tarp doors, you scan the room as you move to the food. You spot Jared talking to Jensen and you make a detour. Intent of talking to Jared before Cliff drove you to the airport.

As you get closer, you catch Jensen’s attention and see him sober up and halt all conversation with Jared, causing the other man to turn and see what was wrong. When Jared spots you are moving towards them, he smiles. You return it, stopping just beside the table. Giving Jensen a quick glance, before pulling your focus solely on Jared.

“I’m all packed. Cliff will be here in an hour to pick me up and then I’m out of here.”

“Awesome. Are you gonna eat before leaving?”

“Just a quick bite. I can get more food at the airport. I’ll have plenty of time to eat and relax before the flight.”

“Good. Is Amanda going with you?”

You can feel Jensen burning holes in the side of your head, begging you to look at him just once. “No, she’s flying home to see her family, but she’ll meet back up with us in Chicago the first day of the convention.” Jared gives you a tight-lipped look. “What?”

“I just hate that you’re flying out by yourself. Are you sure you don’t want to wait until tomorrow morning and you can fly down with me?”

This time you chance a glance at Jensen, you catch him shifting his eyes away from you. “I’ll be fine, Jare. I could use the alone time. I’ve got my laptop loaded with movies and I’ve got my script for Spider-Man that I have to start going through. So I’ve got plenty to keep me occupied.”

He still looks unsure. “Alright. Just text me before takeoff and Gen too, so she knows when to get to the airport to pick you up.”

You give him a soft smile and pat his beanie covered head. “I will. Don’t drink too much tonight. You can’t be hungover for your flight.”

He stands up and pulls you into a hug. “It’ll be nice having you around.”

“Yeah, yeah. Like I’m gonna spend much time with you. I’m gonna spend so much time with the kids. I seriously can’t wait.” You pull away from him and step back. “I’ll text you when I take off and when I land. You better do the same.”

He laughs. “Yeah I will. Be safe. I’ll see you some time tomorrow.”

You blow him a kiss and turn away. Moving to the tables and getting a small plate. Taking it back to your trailer, feeling eyes on you until you were out of site.

Cliff had just called you to tell you her was pulling through the gates of the studio and would be outside your trailer in a few minutes, so you gathered your bags and headed out and down the stairs to wait for him. His giant SUV comes into view as you hear your name being called for the millionth time that day. You look over and see Speight Jr. coming towards you. You stand up as Cliff pulls to a stop and Richard stops in front of you.

“I’m glad I caught you before you left.”

“What’s up, Speight?” You hand Cliff your bags and waited for him to continue.

“Are you going to be singing with us in Chicago? I was gonna ask you earlier this week, but things seemed tense.”

“I don’t know. I have a lot going on.”

“Come on. You know want to.”

You roll your eyes and smile at him. “Who else is singing?”

“Well, Jensen obviously. Briana will be there, so you know she’s going to want to be in on the action. Jason of course.”

You think for a second, before catching movement behind Richard. You shift your eyes and see Jensen moving to his trailer. Moving your gaze away from him before he has a chance to catch you staring, you sigh.

“Alright, yeah. I’ll sing.”

Richard smiles at you. “Alright! Awesome! Do you know what song? That was I can get together the sheet music for everyone.”

“Yeah, I know just the song.” You tell him your song choice and then give him a hug before Cliff ushers you to the car and takes you to the airport.

@liebemeineslebensx @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @cookiechipdough @maralisa124 @spnfamily-thewinchesters @tmiships4life @greyeyedsmile14 @aomi-nabi @keikoraventeller @captaindorit0 @frozenhuntress67 @nerdygirlwithacrush @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @everyfallentear @jxnnxbrxwn @supersupernaturalfan @parkeret @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @mml232 @sing4mejensen @voideandotherstuff @samuelwillliamwinchester @sherlockedtash88 @smoothdogsgirl @cap-just-said-language @frietjemeloen @31shadesofbrown @deansbbysblog @linki-locks11 @missy-bosstown01

#Jensen Ackles #jensen ackles x reader #Jared Padalecki #jared padalecki x reader #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester reader insert #Sam Winchester #Sam Winchester reader insert #sam x reader #supernatural #supernatural series #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural reader insert

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mountphoenixrp · 5 years ago

Photo

We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

Cha Woojin, who is known by no other name; a 19 year old son of Apollo. He is a student and DJ at Visión / Ilusión.

FC NAME/GROUP: Na Jaemin (NCT) CHARACTER NAME: Cha Woojin AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: August 13, 2000 PLACE OF BIRTH: Seoul, South Korea OCCUPATION: Student (Recording Arts major), DJ at Vision/Illusion HEIGHT: 175 cm DEFINING FEATURES: - Thick eyebrows, long hooded eyes, upturned lips, bright smile - 02 piercings on his two earlobes

PERSONALITY: Woojin belonged to the ambivert category, as he needs communication to stay live, yet requires utter solitude to create. He loves to share, but still guarantees that people would always be aware of the unbreakable boundary around his privacy. Like the sun, he shines when it’s the right time to shine. When Woojin is in his element, he exudes charm and confidence, probably the coolest, friendliest, most approachable, and sometimes loudest person in the room. His gallantry comes naturally, and kindness is something he will never lack of. Work hard, play hard, he could be someone one needs for the party to start, but the demigod always had great self-control. Despite the laid-back and distant vibe he usually shows to the world, Woojin still secretly cares about what people might think of him. He doesn’t crave anything more than recognition and respect for who he is and what he does, so no, he wouldn’t give anyone a chance to degrade and call him fuckboy, a swindler, a slob, a criminal, or any other names along the line.

Rooted from the fear of being looked down on, Woojin always wants to control everything happening in his, and sometimes others’ life, striving to perfect all of the perfect-able. Brought up to his mother’s turbulent lifestyle, since a very young age, the demigod has believed that all of what he’s got is useless, unless it is hard-earned. Without intense competition, hardship, blood, sweats, and tears, no prize would be valuable. He put all of himself into getting what he think would worth it, and as one could foresee, once he gets it, it’s nearly impossible for him to let it go, which makes him appears to be over-possessive and over-obsessive. There is always a fire burning inside him, commanding him to act and fight, so patience and calmness are definitely not his strengths. Easily provoked, he may get into a fight or accept a challenge before being aware of what is really happening. Regarding his temper, Woojin has a lot more things to learn to tame it.

HISTORY: Their mother was beautiful, charming, and ambitious. A talented archeologist, an eager globetrotter, a passionate treasure seeker.

That was it. That was everything Woojin could, and would, say about the one who brought his elder brother and him to life. The life that at first, the brothers considered as absolutely awesome, that they could fit in perfectly well until the day they died. Even though they were constantly on the go, and even though Woojin couldn’t stay long enough to be close friends to any of his classmates, it was fine by him.

Long story short, they were wrong. Jungjin, him, and their mother, all realized that they were deadly wrong right from the start.

“I regret it the most, you know…”

His footsteps were halted by the slightly trembling voice of his mother. The whole floor reverberated with her frustrated, angry voice, her occasional teary sniffs served as an extra sound effect. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, because he was a good-mannered and well-educated young man. But, his mother forgot to lock the door, and because it looked like she wouldn’t even care if anyone could hear her rant at this ungodly hour of the night.

“Set’s a fucking huge mistake! I doubt he even gives a shit about Jungjin’s existence. And I thought it would be better with the other… Yeah, Woojin’s father. But fuck it, they’re gods! Asshole ones! Hahaha, I was stupid enough to believe in asshole gods, can you believe it?”

Right at that moment, Woojin decided that even when he became legal, not a single drop of wine, or anything that could mess up his brain system, would be allowed to pass his lips. Or else, he might be doing what his tipsy, mythology - obsessive mother was doing right then, babbling about how her children were sons of ancient a-hole gods.

The real question was asked only about a year later, in the dirty kitchen, when his mother was sober and his elder brother off to the bathroom. At that time, he was sixteen, Jungjin two years older, both had a plan to say goodbye to their mother, but this time not because she was going on another trip to somewhere none of them could pronounce.

“Who’s my father, mom?” Woojin added before his mother’s eyebrows could properly knit to each other and mouth open to spit not-so-nice words at him, “Not the one died in the fire when I was freshly born. I know, he doesn’t exist. And know who hyung’s father is.”

That was how he learned Apollo wasn’t only the name of those cool spaceships of NASA. That was also the name of who had blessed half of his existence. A Greek god, one of the Olympian deities, someone might not even care enough to learn about his existence, much less meeting him in person someday.

Woojin was sure that not many, if none, of his schoolmates would go through the bizarre experience of getting to know their fathers via ancient hardcovers from the Mythology section. After forcing himself to read up all the sources of info about Jungjin’s and his deity dads, he believed it would be better to keep it as a secret from his elder brother for a little bit longer, at least until their plan was proved to be a success. Their plan was to run away, no, to stay away from their mother. A conflict between lifestyles was what Woojin would describe about the cause, simply because saying that he disliked his own mother was not really pleasant to anyone’s ears.

The brothers chose to settle down in South Korea, right in the old apartment that Woojin called his very first home. While Jungjin tried his best to afford their so-much-freedom-but-so-little-of-everything-else new life, Woojin strived to be the best at whatever he was able to. An excellent student, a helpful friend, a well-behaved and supportive little brother, he made sure not to let anyone and himself down. Except for a couple times when he had to punch someone’s face because that was what they deserved, he was totally fine. Actually, thanks to those encounters with the bad guys, Woojin had discovered his healing ability. Even though it was almost impossible for him to perform it during the night, he felt somewhat grateful to be the son of the Greek god of the sun.

He planned to spill the beans to Jungjin - about the deity blood running in their veins – right after he won a scholarship of some kind for college. But, that fateful day came much faster than he thought, as Jungjin came home one day with money, also a major mental breakdown.

After helping his elder brother to calm down, Woojin finally confessed, “Hyung, so… I heard this from mom… That our father hasn’t died in a fire. You and I, we have different dads, and they’re gods. Like, literally, gods.”

It took an hour or so after that for Woojin to help Jungjin, once again, calmed down, and to brief what he had researched about their fathers. It seemed like his elder brother needed more to accept the fact than he did. At least, Woojin was thankful that his elder brother wasn’t convinced that he had gone insane or just got high on something without his approval.

One or two years later, with his outstanding achievements in high school, Woojin won some prestige scholarships, also got accept to well-known music academy abroad. While he was preparing for the very first school term living alone, Jungjin brought home a shocking, yet intriguing news about Mount Phoenix, a place made for gods and their descendants.

“There are plenty of jobs you can have, hyung! We also can live in a nice apartment, befriend people like us, and there is a big university with all of the majors in this world, all free! And maybe we can meet our dads, who knows? We still have this place as a back-up plan if things don’t work out there, so why not give it a try?”

He wasn’t sure how many times he had repeated that same monologue to his elder brother in the next few weeks, but it was finally proved to be fruitful. Woojin’s world brightened up right at the moment his brother nodded his head in approval. And like that, with great hope and burning passions packed in his luggage, Woojin followed his brother to Mount Phoenix, determined to earn a much better future for both of them.

PANTHEON: Greek CHILD OF: Apollo POWERS:

Healing: Able to use the power of light to heal physical wounds of others’ and his own. The more serious the wounds, the more energy he will have to spend. Sometimes the wounds would leave permanent scars. Unable to heal mental disorders. Unable to save people from death.

Natural musical ability: Able to remember melodies, sing and compose songs, DJ-ing, and learn how to play musical instruments well in a shorter time than usual. Potential in rap and dance, but choose not to invest his time on those.

STRENGTHS:

A natural musician and leader

A good conversationalist and negotiator

A go-to man in times of crisis

WEAKNESSES:

Hotheaded, can be ruthless and violent when angry

Highly competitive, accepting challenges too quick

Possessive (and maybe obsessive) towards people and things he cares about

#kpop rp #krp #nct #na jaemin #nct jaemin #mp; welcome

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anuknowha · 6 years ago

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Till Death Do We Part// Chapter 9, XOXO

He sat there, combing his dreads through his hands. He picked up the pillow off the bed and threw it at a nearby wall, pissed.

“What the fuck?!” He screamed.

He was pissed off about the situations of his life. This wasn't what he wanted. His life was taken away from him before he even got a chance to live it. And although his ways were a bit controversial, he still knew he had a right to live. He actually didn't know how long he was dead, there hadn't been even a gut feeling telling him how long he's been there. He never really thought of time the way it was supposed to be. It never really was something that occurred to him because he thought he would have all the time in the world. He'd be wrong. Because in June of 2018 he was shot to death in his car. And even as he was dying, taking his last breath he couldn't believe this was happening to him.

“Fuck.” He paced around the room his footsteps hard and heavy.

Pacing wasn't the average for him but he couldn't help it as he tried to walk off his anger which was something that seemed almost impossible.

He continued to curse under his breath. He punched at the wall angrily. His fists starting to get coated in blood. Every punch made the wall weaker, a small crack forming in the dark blue paint. And within a few more punches he made an inch wide hole in the wall. And even with bloody fists he continued to punch at the wall, causing the wall to vibrate. This rung up the attention of the guy who was next door who was trying to concentrate. He instantly put his guitar down and got up to unlock his door. He peeked out of it and looked around. And he heard the sound coming from his left. He was slightly fed up as the pounding continued even as he approached the door. As calmly as possible he knocked at the door. Only to not receive an answer. He knocked louder before the punching paused. Taking this as an opportunity, he decided to knock as loud as possible drawing the complete attention of the guy in the room.

A disgusted shy left his lips as he walked over to the door and opened it.

“May I-” he cut himself off, taken aback by the shorter man standing in front of him.

“Prince?” the boy said raising a brow.

“In the flesh.” Prince said, irritation lingering in his voice only some. “Now could you please keep it down some? I'd appreciate if you did. Just some if any. I'm trying to practice a new song.”

“Yeah… yeah… Sorry.” He sighed as he rubbed his face with both his hands.

And with that Prince noticed the boy's bloody knuckles. This caused him to peek in and look in in which he found a small crater starting to form in the wall. Little bits of brick crumbling from it every so often. He turned his attention back to the boy and raised a brow.

“Who are you?”

“I'm Xxxtentacion. Well that's my stage name at least.”

“Uh huh.” Prince stated as he nodded. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah? Yeah!” He said suddenly as he felt himself getting flustered for annoying someone who paved such a path; for annoying a legend.

And although he wasn't a big fan of Prince he did enjoy his music and respect him for many reasons more than one. But he was never expecting to meet him in person.

“Sorry I was loud man. I'm just stressed out.”

Prince didn't respond and instead walked over to the hole in the wall that was covered in a thick layer of the crimson liquid.

“You did that huh? Must be a hell of a reason to be angry.”

Tentacion walked over to the bed and sat down on it scratching the back of his head and nodding. Prince took this time to sit next to him.

“I'm sure I've heard of you before, at least once before I died but it doesn't quite ring enough of a bell.”

“I was just hitting fame back in 2016, one of the best years of my life honestly. Coming up with a girlfriend and some money. I didn't want to be broke ya know?”

“No one wants to die broke or alone. I assume that there's more than that that's wrong.”

“Yeah, I was about to have a son.”

“Interesting, pretty young to be having a child aren't you?” Prince joked. “A lot of people have children your age, whether it be on accident or on purpose. Youth.” He sighed with a small smile on his lips, it was barely noticeable. noticeable

“Speaking of how old are you anyway? 24? 25?”

“20…”

“That’s actually a lot younger than I expected…” Prince trailed off highly caught off guard. “How'd you die?”

“I was shot in my car. Drivers seat.”

“I'm sorry… Not sure if you're aware how I died but you could just say it was an accidental overdose.”

“Was it?”

Prince shrugged and looked at the tv in front of him that was hanging on the wall.

“If I told you it was more of an accident than you realize, you wouldn't believe me. They never believe people like us.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that.”

“They’re probably still trying to hide the truth about how I died.”

“What do you think happened?”

“I think I just lost it, or maybe they just wanted to get rid of me. I had an addiction, yes, but, I didn’t think it would kill me.” he chuckled to himself. “Always isn’t it? They always believe that “this” isn’t how they’d die but that’s exactly what happens. It didn’t go at all as planned but I can’t say that I regret it much. I’m glad to be free from the bounds of the company. You know? It felt like I was trapped, that I was a slave.”

“I’ve heard about that. When you wrote “slave” on your face.”

“Yeah, I did, for reasons. And people found it a problem, well the company did. Not my fault you know? You can’t just hold back someone from their creative freedom and keep them held captive for years on end both financially and mentally. Slavery in the music industry is the same as it was when people were in fields picking cotton, especially if you’re black, but the only difference is you get paid. But, the pay doesn’t mean anything if you’re still leashed around and housed by a company that doesn’t know any better. I had tried to change my name so I could get out of it but I couldn’t. I was still dragged back to the same company with the same treatment. Letting them suck me dry of funds and my enjoyment. I didn’t like it, and I would’ve been damned if I kept it up longer than I needed to. I’m free now, just like a dove.”

“How can you be so calm about being dead? Being free from a company is one thing but being dead? That’s another.”

Prince chuckled and brushed his hair from his face with his hand.

“It's not easy to except that I’m dead, it really isn’t. I wish it was though. I always liked the life of fame, it was exciting and thrilling. It had so much potential and I was head over heels to be in the limelight because I knew that’s where I belonged. I was meant to perform regardless of how you look at it. But I wasn’t meant to be broken like that. I wasn’t meant to be used for personal gain and I wasn’t meant to lose myself along the way.”

“I never thought about it that way.”

Prince patted the boy’s back and laughed.

“You weren’t in the industry long enough to know when you’re trapped. You were only 20, and you were in there for about a year or two right? Once they start seeing you as profitable enough they’ll start eating at you like a pack of wild dogs. There’s no holding them back, there never was. It’s their plan from the beginning. Unless you cut the leash right before they get you, you’re in for it; you’ve lost it all. And I never expected to make it big but I knew I needed to because this was the career path I chose. And I feel bad for people like you, especially since you didn’t really get to get your feet off the ground before your life was taken from you. I was at least 57, I had a good long run, but I still wish it lasted longer than it had. 57 is still pretty young to die, since there’s musicians out there in their 70’s still strumming their string to a familiar tune.”

“I know but it just seems all too real. I don’t get to enjoy enough. I was happy, I finally was trying to be a better person and than it’s over.”

“A better person? What have you done in the past?”

XXXTentacion laughed as tears started to stream down his face.

“What haven’t I done? I’ve assaulted women, I’ve carried illegal weapons, I’ve done drugs at one point. I’ve been a very cruel person a lot of my life, even as I was rising into fame. I was that kid who took it too far or overstayed their welcome on decisions. I fucked up a lot, and I wish I could take it all back. I really do. Maybe if I didn’t do any of that stuff I would’ve received a better sentencing for life. Karma is a bitch.”

Prince stares at him, his eyes wide and following the tears that were flowing down the boy’s cheeks. He looked away and placed his hands on his lap, brushing off invisible dirt from his bright purple jacket.

“Just because you’re dead doesn’t mean your adventure has to end here too. Your legacy will live on forever either way it must. Hopefully for the better, but no telling.”

“Yeah… no telling.” A voice came from the doorway.

His head was shaved, and his ears had black gauges in both of his ears. He was currently leaning in the doorway, which caught both of the guys’ attention.

“Chester?” Tentacion, asked.

“You’re Chester Bennington aren’t you? From… Linkin Park right? I’ve heard of you.” Prince added.

“I’m pretty sure many were fond of me.” Chester sighed.

“I thought you were alive last time I listened to your music?” Prince questioned.

“He committed suicide in 2017. Hung himself.”

“I can tell my own story, thanks kid.” Bennington huffed.

“You hung yourself? I know you’ve been through a lot, you lived a long life and I’m proud that you lived so long. I wish you could’ve lived your life to the fullest but I can understand how it feels to be degraded.” Prince frowned.

“I don’t think you understand on the exact same level.” Chester sighed as he walked into the room. “I actually came to ask you guys to quiet down and seemingly I was late to the party. I’ve trying to get myself together. I really am trying to get all my thoughts through okay?”

“What exactly do you mean?” A mysterious voice added from behind him.

A tall brunette with glasses stood in the doorway fixing the collar of his shirt with a hum.

“Don’t you look familiar? Well, two of you do.” he said.

“And who are you?” Tentacion said heading towards the man.

“I’m Ray, from the Doors. I wanted to see if anyone knew where Jim was? Do guys even know if he is here?”

“Jim Morrison? I thought I heard him downstairs a few days ago but I’m not too sure. I just woke up not long ago. I don’t actually remember being here, actually thought I would’ve ended up somewhere else.” Chester said rubbing his chin. “But I actually don’t know where here is.”

“This can’t be heaven.” Ray expressed.

“And why can’t it be? All can be forgiven at some points in their lives, and there are ways to be received by Jehovah.” Prince said as he gave a soft smile.

"You're telling me that a suicidal man and an abuser ended up in heaven?" Chester sneered. "I wouldn't believe that I had my "sins" taken away before I made that decision." "I don't really believe in a god anyway." Tentacion sighed. "I'm one of the last people I'd actually believe would end up here. And even if I was a Christian, I wouldn't be here by the time I had died. I didn't have time to be "forgiven" like most sinners." "Than where do you think we are? I doubt this is hell. Hell is whatever we fear most. It's are deepest pains being relived over and over again. I would probably be stuck enslaved forever by the industry. That's definitely my hell." "That's the "Bible's" version of it. Maybe this is what hell really is. A bunch of stars here living the rest of eternity out in an endless world." Ray uttered. They looked at Ray and laughed some. "But we're not suffering, we're happy. Well, I'm happy." Prince grinned. "I'm still upset about being murdered. I'm still upset about my child. I'm upset about my girl. And I'm upset about my career. I didn't live long enough to see everything." Tentacion hissed under his breath. Ray dug into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and put it to his mouth. "How old is he?" Tentacion looked up at him. "20." Ray shrugged. "Be lucky you got to live as long as you did. I died from cancer." "You lived longer than all of us, how could you just say these things?!" Tentacion exclaimed "I'm just thankful I was alive at some point at all. I'm not religious, I never was, but I did believe in living life to the fullest. I believed in making my life better and less stressful. I took a road I enjoyed and I ran the race to the end. Didn't matter what I did while I was on my way as long as I didn't cause as much trouble as Jim.” Ray chuckled. He took this time to pull a matchbook out his pocket and take one out. He struck it and gently lit his cigarette before blowing it out.

"That's how life is supposed to be lived, regardless of how it ends but not everyone could do that. We were lucky enough that we were able to." Chester added, crossing his arms and looked at Ray. The room got quiet as Tentacion took it all in. His breathing became heavy. "Can everyone get out of my damn room?"

The tension in the room grew and they could tell the young boy was furious. They were only slightly taken aback. Not like they wanted to be there much anyway, they just either wanted to find someone or get the loud wall hitting to stop. And it did a while ago, so maybe there was no need for them any longer. They all looked at him and than each other. He hung his head down not seeing Prince get off the bed though he felt the shift of the mattress underneath him. They walked off, one by one, not a word from their mouths as they left the room to head their separate directions. Chester went back to his room and shut the door, locking it and took the time to wash his face as he still tries to get himself together in thought. He's been dead a year and he still didn't believe it.

Ray left the room and started to check other doors looking for Jim. Door after door, knock after knock, there was either no answer or just the answer of someone didn't really recognize. Eventually a familiar voice answered him. "Yes?" Jim said from the other side of the door before walking up to it so he could hear better. "Jim, Morrison?" "That's me, may I ask who's calling?" Jim smirked cheekily from behind the door as he leaned against it, pressing his ear to it. And awaiting a response. "It's Ray you fuck-" "Ray? Hmm? I don't think I remember any Ray." He chuckled. "Open the door Jim." "Or what?" Ray sighed, his voice becoming slightly annoyed with the thought. He could tell by the way the leader sounded that he might have had one too many drinks, something that seemed impossible in the after life. "I will kick it down. Because I know too well you're intoxicated." "Yeah, you're right. I am... And?" "Open the door." Ray's voice became stern. The room became silence as he did not receive an answer back. After a while he heard the unlocking of a door followed by it opening. Jim stood there, his clothes only slightly messy and his eyes in a daze. Their eyes meant for a brief moment and Ray gave him a brotherly hug. "Ah Ray, welcome to this place of mine. Wait a minute... You're dead?" "Why else do you think I'm here?" "How long has it been?" Jim squinted and shook his head confusingly while he tried to clear his vision. "According to the guys in the other room, about 47 years." "Shit man." He placed his hand on his band mate's thigh and shook it. "You must've lived a long time and lived an extraordinary life huh?" "Yeah, I did. I had my fun." "So how'd you-?" "I died of cancer Jim." Jim's eyes widened as he looked over his partner, sympathy tugging at his slightly drowsy eyes. "Sorry to hear that. Thought all of you guys would have hit old age." "Being in your 70's when you die seems like a pretty well lived life. After all, you didn't even make it to 30 and I just met a boy who ain't make it to 27." "Damn, how old?" "20. Claimed to have been shot in the driver seat of his car." Jim's brows shrugged as he crossed his arms in thought. "What are you thinking about?" Jim didn't give a response because he wasn't paying attention, he actually didn't hear him. His mind was still foggy and cloudy from taking in so much alcohol. "Would you like a bottle?" "Fine, hand it over." Ray said ignoring the fact that he himself was just ignored. It didn't matter much to him whether or not he gained a response at the moment. It wasn't that important. Jim went over to the small bedside table and grabbed a can of beer. It was still cold, condensation dripping off of it and onto his hand as he hands it to Ray. "How'd you get these?" "There's some in the fridge downstairs." "They just have these stacked up in the fridge? Are there more left?" Jim shrugged. "I dunno." "Useless, like always." Ray laughed to himself as he popped open the can of beer and took a sip. He closed his eyes tight and coughed. "That's stronger than any shit I've had when I was alive." "That's because its absinthe. And seemingly heavenly absinthe as that."

“Strong. I love it. Now how about a card game like good old times?” Ray smiled patting Jim on the back.

As Prince left out the room he bumped into a woman. Her black hair was in small buns. She slightly blushed upon impact.

“I’m sorry-” she said shaking her head as she took a good look at the short man standing in front of her.

“Prince!?” she screamed.

“Aretha!?” he said as he embraced her, only to receive a hug back.

“Aretha? I’m surprised you’re here… how long has it been?”

“Two years.”

“Two? Seems like it's been longer than that.” Prince nodded. “Maybe we should catch up later, after I get finished writing a song.”

He started to walk past her and towards his room.

“A song? Do you need to write music up here while we're in heaven, while we're free? We shouldn't have to carry no more burdens.”

Prince laughed to himself as he entered the room.

“I never suffered making music. I suffered from being control and held back from everything I am.”

And with that he shut his door and went back to his bed and started strumming his guitar. Aretha continued on downstairs, thinking about what Prince told her for the rest of the day.

Taglist: @lennonwhipped @rogers-flowered-blazer @caviarandqueen @sweet-mother-love @peacelennon @caminc91

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just-one-string-in-a-silent-sea · 7 years ago

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Requested (Pete Dunne x Reader) + “You’re just a bitch because you’re closer to hell, you midget.”

“You’re just a bitch because you’re closer to hell, you midget.” + Pete Dunne

A/N: Requested by anon! I’m so glad you guys love Pete Dunne as much as I do. I wonder if he’ll ever end up on Raw or Smackdown. I’d love it. I love my bruiserweight <3. For the record, I don’t ever write the accent, because I feel like the imagination part of it, it has a bit of a charm.

Word Count: 1,930 (I’m sorry i love Pete)

(Y/N) (L/N) was the shortest of the short. Tiny. She was known backstage as the “midget makeup artist”, even though she technically wasn’t a midget, and honestly, to her she didn’t seem that short. 5’0” was not too short, was it?

Often times when she did the roster’s makeup for the NXT roster, she often used a step stool, and though the other girls tried to convince her, she downright refused to wear heels. After what happened in sixth grade when she broke her ankle? Hell no.

Ah, NXT, how she had gotten there, she sometimes wondered. She had started out in her home state of Pennsylvania doing makeup for news crews and small time tv shows, but people started to notice her talent. People in the athletic department. Specifically? Wrestling. Wrestling needed people who could do makeup well enough to stay on despite sweat and movement, and so you were hired.

She’d bought an apartment in Winter Park in Florida for surprisingly cheap. It was only after she moved in, though, that she realized how close the arena where the NXT division was based out of, trained, and performed when not touring.

And so, one week after she moved in, she walked to the sports and training center, where she was to meet her new boss in the design wing and then have a meet and greet with her new clientele.

At first step through the door, after the initial assault on the sense of smell from B.O., she dropped her coat, and slung it over her arm.

She walked in and looked around, taking in her surroundings, where various wrestlers were punching bags and sparring. Few noticed her arrival, as the heavy rock music was blaring over the loudspeakers. She knew the song and hummed along, and as she stepped in, a man in a tux walked towards her.

Triple H, in a button up shirt and slacks stood before her, and she almost bowed.

“Oh my god, you’re triple H!” She squealed quietly, and the old man chuckled, extending a hand to her, which she shook.

“That I am, dear, but you can call me Mr. H. You must be (Y/N) (L/N), our newest edition to the design crew.”

She nodded, “That I am, sir, and I’m real excited to be here.” She gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth before dropping it slowly, “I’m so sorry, Mr. H, my accent comes out when I’m happy.”

Triple H nodded, chuckling, “Well then I should hope your accent will always be present while you’re working here. Shall we?”

Wow, he was politer than she’d expected.

The tour of the NXT department began right there in the bottom floor with the rings, when Triple H whistled and everyone froze.

She gulped when all the pairs of eyes in the room turned to stare at her, and she could feel her cheeks flush red.

“Who’s the short stack?” Asked a british voice, and your cheeks flushed again, but this time in anger as you whipped your head towards the ring where a long haired, brutish-looking wrestler was sneering at her and she clenched her jaw.

“The name is (Y/N). Not short stack.” She bit out, and Triple H’s hand landed on her shoulder with a chuckle.

“Take it you don’t like short jokes?” The brute in the ring said and she crossed her arms.

“I can name things I enjoy more.”

“Reaching the top shelf?”

Snickers were heard from the surrounding room.

“Pete,” Triple H said, obviously fighting back laughter, “Be nice, please. She already has to put up with you for at least a year before her contract is up. You will both be in for a long one if you can’t get along.”

Her and the Bruiserweight glared at each other, and she stuck her tongue out at him, making a blonde girl giggle.

The blonde skipped up to (Y/N), “Hi there! I’m Liv, you’ll probably spend most of your time on me. I get so worried about my hair.”

(Y/N) chuckled, “Why? It’s perfect!”

And that was how that day had started, and how (Y/N) had made a best friend named Liv Morgan, and a nemesis named Pete Dunne.

In fact, she was supposed to be dealing with the former at that very moment, and Liv’s manicured nails snapping in front of her face brought her from her reminiscent reverie, and Liv was giving her a look.

“(Y/N), are you alright? You seem kind of out of it…” Liv asked, concerned, and (Y/N) chuckled, picking up her scissors and starting to brush out Liv’s hair.

“Oh nothing’s wrong. I guess with the end of the year coming up I’m thinking about how I got here in the first place. It’s crazy to think about, you know?”

Liv nodded, “Have you decided you’re gonna stay here?”

“Of course, Liv, I can always take college classes online. I could never give up doing what I love.”

Liv smiled at (Y/N) in the mirror, “I’m glad you’re staying, I know Pete makes it hard for you sometimes.”

The hairstylist groaned, Pete. The bane of her existence. The pain in her ass. The biggest annoyance in Florida and possibly the United States. The brash, British, tough, mean bruiserweight who she…was in love with.

Only Liv knew how (Y/N) really felt about the UK Champion, and only Liv knew why she had never tried to make any advances. Pete was mean to her. He constantly remarked about her height, her accent, her weight, her looks.

Count on (Y/N) to have a crush on the biggest asshole in sports entertainment.

But, it wasn’t always like that. Sometimes, when it was just them and Pete was absolutely sure that nobody else was around, he was sometimes friendly. At least, as friendly as he was capable of. He still sneered a lot.

He would ask her about Pennsylvania, what it was like. He would ask her about work. He would talk to her like a co-worker, but all of it changed when someone else walked in. Then, she was short stack.

“You should really ask him what’s up, (Y/N). You have to figure out what game he’s playing,” Liv murmured, and the shorter woman shook her head.

“Liv, I know he doesn’t feel the same, what’s the point? Maybe the longer I’m here, he’ll warm up to me more.”

Liv rolled her eyes, “For god’s sake doll, it’s been a year. He shouldn’t still be acting like a junior high boy.”

(Y/N) sighed, “I don’t know, let’s just do your makeup.”

And that was what she did, but it was when she was packing up her things was when things started to go wrong. First, she dropped a 40-dollar eye shadow palette on the floor, shattering it and making the world’s largest mess.

Then, upon opening the closet to find a broom, sixteen spiders, 3 moths, two brooms, a vacuum cleaner and the souls of the damned came falling out at her feet, covering her shoes and pants in cobwebs and dust.

It had taken an hour to clean up and kill the spiders, and clean the closet to the best of her ability, and then upon going to change her pants, she found herself with two options: Wear the dirty ones, or change into her pajama shorts, which happened to be Pete Dunne’s fucking merch, and exposed a little too much of her short legs.

So, she had done her best to clean up the pants, and had grabbed her purse and walked towards catering, where she rounded a corner and slammed into an all-too familiar chest and had fallen, dumping her bottle of water on herself and dropping her purse rather forcefully, throwing loose tampons and makeup products around her, and for a minute she just sat on the floor, burying her head in her hands as Pete Dunne doubled over laughing above her.

“Oh shut the hell up, you overgrown Dalmatian.” You snarled from the floor, trying to brush her things back into her purse.

That silenced the bruiser, who scoffed, “You’re just a bitch because you’re closer to hell, you midget.”

She stood, brushing off her legs, looking at the floor, fighting back her tears. Today was so hard. She kept her face cast downwards as she pushed past Pete.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” she deadpanned as she walked away from him, but only for a few seconds, as she heard his footsteps following.

“Hey, (Y/N), you okay?”

She stopped, before whirling on him, “Since when in the fresh fuck has the great Pete Dunne gave a rat’s ass if I was okay or not?” She snarled, and Pete stopped.

The floodgates had opened, there was no turning back now.

“From the day I walked into this building, you have been a bipolar asshole, talking to me one night, making fun of me the next, you’re a real dick, you know that? I try my hardest each and every night to make you like me, I always bring you water, I always make sure there’s food ready at catering, I always sew your jacket when you tear it, I always put your mouthguard with your things when I find it laying about, I always protect your championship belt. Do you know how many time’s Tyler’s tried to steal it to fuck with you? I never let it happen. I always wear your merch, I always-“

“(Y/N)!”

The furious woman stopped, angry tears now pouring down her cheeks as Pete closed the distance between them.

“All…all that stuff was you?” He mumbled, looking at her almost sheepishly.

“Yes, you fuck, all of it was me. I fucking like you, and you don’t even care!”

“(Y/N)?”

“What?”

“I like you too. I’m sorry, I just…I don’t know how to deal with things like that. I thought maybe if I was a dick to you, then you would stay away from me and I could ignore this stupid crush I have, but I can’t. I…I’m sorry.”

(Y/N) gawked at him, amazed at what she was hearing, before pinching herself and regaining her composure. She coughed awkwardly, “Apology accepted.”

He chuckled, and then she chuckled, and then they were both giggling, and then both of them were doubled-over laughing in the hallway, and then he was pulling her into him, and she was hugging him, and he was kissing the top of her head.

“I’m a real idiot, aren’t I?” He laughed out, and she nodded.

“Yeah, you are, you big doof.”

“Let’s go to dinner,” He said, stepping back from her slightly, “Consider it our first date as not-enemies.”

The five-foot woman smiled, “Okay, Mr. Dunne, I will go on a date with you, but you should know you are currently in my debt greatly for a year of tears.”

He laughed, taking her hand and kissing the back of it, “Then I’ll take you shopping tomorrow. You can buy as many books as you want. And we can discuss you calling me a Dalmatian.”

The two of them laughed, and as he handed her his water bottle to replace the one she spilled, she smiled. He was such a schoolboy.

#wwe #wwe nxt #nxt #pete dunne #pete dunne x reader #pete dunne imagine #pete dunne imagines #wwe imagines #nxt imagines #wwe imagine #nxt imagine #bruiserweight

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cjostrander · 8 years ago

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The Offspring: Days Go By

Well today is going to be a decent combo review for today. It tackles both an anniversary review as well as a promotional pick. This is the latest by The Offspring and is on its fifth anniversary this year. Their album Ignition is turning 25 and may of been a better legacy pick for newer fans; but it’s getting to be that time where the newer albums of the year start arriving so i am going to scratch one or two of them before they start releasing. Let’s get started! There is a re-recorded version of the track Dirty Magic from Ignition from that album but i’m going to exclude that track for now so that i can show you guys its original sound when i do that album later on in the year.

The Future is Now: We start off with a serious sounding guitar riff and quickly add some energetic drum beats to turn this opener into a lively first piece. Dexter enters rather smoothly with a direct delivery and his tone does a fine job of expressing the seriousness in his lyrics and getting a strong degree of emotion from them. These lyrics are pretty well done and will carry your focus along nicely while the instrumentals keep up a fast level of balanced energy. It’d be a nice live piece due to its energy and lyrical substance. The key segment towards the end is a very nice element that adds in some complex melody with a sense of beauty and gives the song a fresh moment to space itself out enough before it concludes with another lively chorus. 9/10

Secrets from the Underground: This song picks up from the last one with some electronic effects and a shift into another serious punk driven guitar/drum instrumental. It will do another good job of getting your adrenaline packing before the keys enter to deliver a nice dose of class before Dexter ups the power level in his voice to push forth a very strong chorus. The lyrics prove to be rather strong yet again and demonstrate their ability to still craft some rather solid songs this far into their career. I can only imagine what their upcoming album will sound like. The solo is a nice touch and adds in some good rock melody with a hint of that aggressive side. The bass has a little solo moment that allows the song to decompress before it concludes in a similar format to the previous song. 9/10

Days Go By: This title track is a single and begins with a mainstream cheerful melody that i originally thought was something new from the Foo Fighters at the time. Dexter enters after a nice jam session and smoothly delivers some decent lyrics. His high notes do seem a hair off but you really have to look for it here. The chorus pretty much sounds like a casual verse which will give the song a very easygoing structure in comparison to the previous songs. It was the first song that they released for the album and to me it was a basic offering but still an easy way to show the guitar tone that they would achieve on this album as well as the prominent focus on melodic vocals. 8.5/10

Turning Into You: This is another single and begins with some programmed drum beats and shifts into an energetic but low tone guitar instrumental. It fades once Dexter enters and the bass surfaces to deliver a very soothing hum. Dexter’s voice is flawless and leads this song in a very commanding yet relaxed nature. The chorus is straightforward and relies heavily on the support of the instrumentals and consistently strong lyrics.Other than that you get the idea for this song. 8/10

Hurting As One: This somewhat shorter tune begins with a steady drum beat and some dark yet melodic guitar riffs before sinking into a steady punk flow. It does a decent job of keeping the song feeling mostly full with its minimal instrumental layering. It basically feels like it is just guitar and drum with little production filler that you would expect in this day and age. The interlude segment has a nice sense of harmonic hums from the band and its an effective way to space out the song while introducing a little guitar solo to round it out before the chorus finishes things up. 8/10

Cruising California (Bumpin’ in My Trunk): This is the last single for the album and has a very party beach like vibe with elements of their jokester approach from the older days. The music video is ok but it proves to be a nice break from the more serious nature of the previous tracks. It begins with a poppy sounding keys and leads into a cheerfully powerful opening from Dexter. The drums have a nice beat to them and these key notes provide a very nice timing mechanism for Dexter’s humorous lyrics and lively delivery. It is definitely a nice piece to play outside on a sunny day. I will give this one props due to its experimentation with electronics and the inclusion of female vocals to keep the listener guessing. I remember when this first came out; it got a lot of backlash from their fans. I don’t see why because it is a joke song very reminiscent in theme of their older hits like Pretty Fly and Hit That. I think that it was just mostly newer era fans that had just uncovered their 90′s work like me at the time and were surprised by the polished tone of it and the fear of their electronic party direction on the song. It was still my favorite single till the final track got a music video. That one wast a single but was a nice add on down the road to promote the album and keep it in your heads awhile longer till their new one got done. 9/10

All I Have Left Is You: This one returns to the album’s serious tone and is more in the vein of a somber ballad piece.It begins with a steady drum beat and the fade in of a soothing key note. It has a pretty polished but acoustic tone to it and the bass makes a prominent appearance in the background. Dexter does a fair job opening but is very refrained when first starting out. The guitar melodies softly space it out and give the listener a clear sign of gradual build u towards the chorus. The chorus has a decent level of energy but Dexter still slows it down to focus seriousness on his lyrics. For me it causes it to lose a bit of a punch and can potentially bore a listener as a result. it would be an ok piece for a live show due to its potential for breaking up their more fast paced songs. The solo itself is actually really nice in terms of emotional melody and will due well to turn the ending into a rather pleasant experience. 7.5/10

OC Guns: Now this one i’ve always hated for some reason. Its another joke song with elements of their ska side but for me it doesn’t seem to have a place on the album flow wise and throws the album a bit out of rhythm. It’s basically them tossing out Spanish swears; which will surely get some giggles out of the teens. The instrumentals do have a nice rhythm and the inclusion of brass will be appreciated by the listener due to its freshness on the album. I will say in hindsight that the chorus is actually pretty melodic and catchy; which will make this song rank a bit higher than i lead it to appear during the beginning of my description. I do think at four minutes it does stick around excessively long for my taste and for a listener that gets the point after the two minute mark. 7/10

I Wanna Secret Family (With You): These next few tracks speed the album towards its end due to them being shorter and faster paced. It starts off with some cheery guitar riffs and pounding drum beats. The vocals are very catchy and the lyrics add in some extra humor to the song. The instrumentals provide a steady support for the casual verses and allow them to retain prominent focus from the listener. The chorus gets more push from the guitars and allows the listener to float by with a nice sense of happiness at this stage in the game. 8.5/10

Dividing By Zero: This one begins with darker guitar riffs and a fast punk dose of drumming. Dexter has a more serious tone as expected for this album and delivers a nice level of substance for the lyrics without forcing the listener to endure the same thing over and over. The solo is a nice touch and keeps the momentum going and creating a feeling that this song is actually longer than the 2 and a half minutes it feels. It does it in a pleasant way so no complaining on my part. 8.5/10

Slim Pickens Does the Right Thing and Rides the Bomb to Hell: This final track picks up quickly from the last song and continues with the band’s usual punk jam format and Dexter’s lyrics are straightforward lively and easy to sing along to as well. It would be a decent song to toss into their live shows when they want to freshen up their set lists. The chorus is a prominent fixture and the drums develop a strong level of momentum at times and will add to the charge of the guitar solos so that the ending can end on a strong note. I’ve always liked this one and will note it as a direct way to end this album. Not exactly climatic but still an acceptable finish. 8/10

Overall album rating: 8.3/10

Well a B- is a decent score for them and will position this album as a reviewer’s pick. If you wanted a look at their more serious material; this is an example of it in their later years. I’d say give it a try and pretty soon i will look through my lists to find albums that are both promo and anniversary so that i can widdle down both lists at once. My choices so far are Velvet Revolver’s Libertad (2007), and All America Rejects Kids in the Street (2012). If you would rather one than the other message me and i will hop on it the moment i can. Enjoy your day and be sure to check out this album.

*Reviewer’s Pick*

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themusicenthusiast · 6 years ago

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Sunday, September 23rd, 2018 – Sevendust Prevails Despite a Dim Situation, Exhilarating their Dallas Fan Base

Photos by Jordan Buford Photography One doesn’t typically think of Sevendust as being a support band. They’re certainly more than capable of it, but over the past couple of decades (and then some), the relentless touring that the group that originated from Atlanta has done has earned them a spot at the forefront of the metal/hard rock realm. Their fan base is rabid, easily one of the most dedicated legions of supporters of any band out there, with more converts continuously added to it, constantly allowing Sevendust to rock more spacious venues than before. Because of that, that’s why it was a bit interesting to see Sevendust joining Clutch on the Book of Bad Decisions Tour, not as a co-headline run – as it easily could have been – but as the main support act. At the same time, it made sense. Both bands are as loud and intense as they come (and apparently, the members of Clutch happened upon Sevendust when both bands where still in the early days of their respective careers, making this a reunion of sorts), making for a topnotch, quality pairing. Also, given how supportive fans of both acts are, it seemed mutually beneficial to team up, allowing Sevendust a chance to win over some Clutch fans that might not be too familiar with their music and vice versa. That said, Gas Monkey Live was packed to the gills, fans of both acts from Dallas and elsewhere in North Texas turning out in full force to catch the spectacular show that was sure to unfold; and 7D’s supporters were ready for a taste of new music from the recently released All I See is War (out via Rise Records) along with whatever else was planned. The fanfare was deafening as Morgan Rose stepped out into view, the drummer taking his spot with his other band mates not far behind.

The shadows concealed them, the booming voice of Lajon Witherspoon seeming to come out of nowhere as the frontman suddenly asked, “Do you know who are?!” He repeated it a couple more times, pumping up the audience. “Dirty” kicked it all off, the lead cut from the months old record perfectly representing everything that Sevendust is. A behemoth of a track, it was utterly commanding and demanded everyone listen. The seismic track was even a fan favorite, quite a few patrons singing along with the refrain, “…I know it's hard for you to believe I'm gonna die whole…”. The quintet had a mere 41-minutes to work with, which, albeit short, was at least conducive of the most high-energy set that they could muster as they opted for as many hits as possible so that their supporters would feel appeased. “Denial” was one such offering, Clint Lowery and Vince Hornsby, the lead guitarist and bassist, respectively, doing everything they could to further energize everyone. Lowery especially was frequently seen mouthing along to the words, almost encouraging the audience members to shout along with them, gesturing with his hands as if to signal they wanted more from them; and he even throw out a decent number of picks as well.

They absolutely threw down on that one, an overwhelming intensity radiating from the stage, hitting their stride as they prepared to further up the expectations. It was almost as if they wanted to squeeze all the energy associated with their headline performances into this shorter set, and thus far they were well on track to accomplish that. The musicians didn’t have much time to build a rapport with the spectators through dialogue, though Witherspoon did get a chance to speak once that song was finished. He somewhat reflected on their lengthy career, estimating that they had been on thousands of “decks” in their time, though gracing this particular one was a first for them. He thanked Gas Monkey Live for having them there, even recalling some other spots they had played on previous trips to Dallas before asking everyone if they wanted to hear something new. The audience was game. “Unforgiven” was the only other number they worked in from All I See is War, but what a choice. It just reaffirmed that the five of them are master craftsmen when it comes to writing pulse-pounding, anthemic songs. As intense as it was, the rhythm section easily taking charge, it was still infectious, demanding the listener just give themselves over to the music. To be blunt, they killed it, that number capturing everything that Sevendust is about, just loud and heavy metal/alt-rock that was perfect to bang your head along to.

“Can you feel the energy right now?!” Witherspoon questioned afterwards before practically demanding to see everyone’s hands, even those way in the back. They were only halfway in and they were epitomizing what a support band is supposed to be by pumping everyone up and working them into a frenzied state. Shortly after they ventured back to some of their earliest albums, pulling out several staples that longtime fans have come to expect. Despite the limitations imposed on them by the clock they still managed to squeeze in most of the major highlights alongside the obligatory new material; “Bitch” being primed as a sing along, and at the behest of the frontman plenty of people aided Sevendust by chiming in. Preceding their closing number was a chanting of the band’s name, steadily growing stronger as more joined in. It was an overwhelming display of adoration, a respect relatively few bands are ever afforded and just spoke to what high regard most of those in attendance hold Sevendust. Their fans are a breed all their own and that is meant in the best possible way. Hell, most music fans could stand to take some pointers from how they do it.

“Thank You” acted as their parting number, the song being open to interpretation to an extent and live it plays out like a gracious compliment to their supporters as much as anything. Arguably their most polished song of the night – boasting a more prominent hard rock style with only a slight metal edge – there’s still some grit to it and it packed a punch. Seeming like a slightly odd choice at first, “Thank You” has since more than earned its spot as the show closer, even allowing for some optimism as they left everyone hungry for more. Even by Sevendust’s standards the performance aspect of this show was topnotch, Hornsby, Connolly, Lowery, Rose and Witherspoon packing in all of the vigor of a headline gig and then some into those 41-minutes. However, the show did falter in an area that was out of their control: the lighting department. If you’ve seen Sevendust even just once before than you know they have a fondness for darker lighting. That may be somewhat of a cliché when it comes to metal and hard rock bands, but that’s instrumental in the way that these guys present themselves and it works incredibly well. It’s moody and enigmatic, pairing well with the music; and while I’ve seen them a few times in the past, I’ve never been given reason to say this before, however, the lighting was downright terrible this night.

It wasn’t just used minimally or sparingly, but rather almost nonexistent. For much of their time on stage patrons were left wondering what they were watching, having to strain in order to see the soft outlines of the figures moving around on stage. Rare flashes would illuminate the musicians, though those were fleeting and offered momentary glimpses at best. I overheard plenty of people complaining about it afterwards. That included some spectators who were new to Sevendust and essentially wrote them off because of that. That was disheartening to hear because they are a superb live band that is armed with a barrage of dynamic songs that are capable of resonating with the listener, but some of those people sounded adamant that their minds had been made up, shutting the door on the possibility of ever giving Sevendust another shot. As I said, I don’t hold that against the band, but it did drastically affect the show overall, even avid fans being left making casual remarks like, “I wish I could have seen what they were doing. They did sound great, though.” And they did. The sound was outstanding, and even if you could seldom see it you could feel their might. The way the five of them handle and finesse an audience is a spectacle, the energy and aggression they put into their performance being palpable. It was sure was this night, even if other factors were working against it. For those who did see Sevendust this night and came out feeling indifferent at best, I encourage you to give them another chance, be it the next time they come to town or even by listening to some of their records. This Gas Monkey Live gig wasn’t a fair representation of what they’re capable of, these road warriors having been molded into one of the greatest live bands out there. Their tour continues for a while longer, and rest assured more dates will be coming as 2019 approaches. A full list of their touring schedule can be found HERE; and check out their records on iTUNES or GOOGLE PLAY. Set List: 1) “Dirty” 2) “Face to Face” 3) “Denial” 4) “Unforgiven” 5) “Waffle” 6) “Too Close to Hate” 7) “Bitch” 8) “Thank You”

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