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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

Perfect ~ PJM [M] [Request]

↱↱↱Word Count: 6.1K

↱↱↱Genre: Smut, fluffy, angsty.

↱↱↱Pairing: Dancer Major!Jimin x Dance Major!Reader

↱↱↱A/N: I know you asked a slow and seductive song so I hope ‘Perfect by Ed Sheeran’ counts but I have been in love with this routine since I saw it! Here it is if anyone wants to watch it, I love them together. DISCLAIMER: I can’t dance so I did my best to describe the moves they do in the video, I hope it’s okay!!!

The dance

↱↱↱WARNINGS: Hate sex, unprotected sex, slight degradation, rough sex, explicit smut, swearing, exhibition/public sex, slight choking.

The sun was starting to feel as though it was melting through your skin as you walked towards your dance studio on campus, it was way too hot to be outside and yet here you were rushing to get to the studio first. You had to, otherwise, that know it all Park Jimin would get there first and you'd be left to go after him. You had a competition that morning to see which one of you would get the lead role in the next dance show at the university which wouldn't normally be a big deal, you could kick everyone's ass at dance...Everyone that was except for Jimin. Jimin seemed to be just as great as you were though you would never tell him that he was big-headed enough. Ever since you started your dance course you and Jimin had been at one another's neck, always fighting for top space and it wasn't just in dance, in the classes you shared you always competed to be better than the other and God forbid you ever beat him at anything, he'd become one of the saltiest people in the world going as far as to bad-mouthing you to other students on campus to telling every guy on campus that you'd slept with him and gave him an STD. You had plenty of reasons to hate him but you had no idea why he hated you so much. The first time you met each other he made it clear that he hated you, by ignoring you, shooting down your dancing and just being an all-around dickhead with an attitude problem.

"You're late, you're late for a very important date." Your best friend - Jihoo - said as you rushed over to the studio door, you peaked through the glass to see Jimin already dancing and dancing to the song he knew was the song you'd been preparing with.

"I hate him." You grumbled taking off your side bag and dropping it onto the floor, Jihoo rolled her eyes at you and then looked in at Jimin dancing for the dance tutor.

"You guys just need to fuck and get over it." You choked on air that you were inhaling and she started laughing at you as you tried to come back for normal air.

"It's true, fuck each other and move on. Fuck the pent up sexual tension is so thick between you." You rolled your eyes at her this time and the door opened, Jimin walked out looking at you with a smug look on his face and all you wanted to do was punch him in the perfectly handsome face he had. There was no use lying and saying he wasn't good looking because he was, he was too good looking for his own good and he knew it as well.

"Y/n!" You slowly got up from the chair pushing past Jimin and into the studio, the door shut behind you and you smiled at the tutor,

"I know Jimin took your dance but knowing you, you'll have a backup." Your tutor winked and you smiled at her, giving her the CD with your second dance track on it. You were always prepared for things like this, to Jimin nothing was off the table when it came to competing for the main dance place so you made sure to stay one step ahead of him at all times, you never knew when he was going to play dirty.

"You're both good but I need more than good, that's why we're putting you against one another. One dance off now in front of everyone, whoever receives the loudest applause at the end...wins." The music started over the loudspeakers as you recognised it as 'Touch' by Little Mix, the chorus came in and you took a deep breath before dancing along to the beat, going on freestyle against Jimin was harder than anything you'd done. You excelled at planned choreography instead of freestyle as it gave you more control over everything happening. A slow verse came up and Jimin came closer to you touching your hips in time to the music and you leant back against him dancing to the music. The dance was going fine until Jimin purposively put his ankle under yours and knocked you to the ground

"You know what!" You screamed forgetting for a second you weren't alone in the room, you rushed over to him and grabbed him by the shirt but your tutor cleared her throat and cut the music out.

"Enough!" You separated from one another and you stared at the floor not having the confidence to look at your teacher right now, you could already tell by her tone she was annoyed at you both.

"I've had enough of you both at each other's throats constantly!" The room emptied instantaneously leaving you, Jimin and your tutor alone. NO one wanted to be around Madame Lalaurie - mostly because everyone was afraid she was the serial killer from 1700s but that was impossible.

"Who won the dance space?" Jimin asked, clearly unphased by her annoyed tone and look, he'd never been scared to speak out which was another reason he was given a lot of the main spaces.

"Both of you. I'm changing the setlist, you will work together-" You both started yelling to her that neither of you wanted to work together and she banged her dance stick on the ground, giving a final warning for you to be quiet.

"You will work together! I won't hear another word about it, I will send the routine over to you both tonight. Get out of my sight!" You darted out of the door and dropped down to grab your bag you didn't want to be around Jimin any longer than you had to be.

"Well done, if it wasn't for you making a huge deal we could have had a normal dance." He shoved past you and you groaned at him,

"If it wasn't for you being a cheating piece of shit none of it would have happened in the first place." You pushed past him knocking into his shoulder as you went towards your next class Jimin smirked as he watched you walk away. He knew just how to get under your skin and play you like a violin and he loved it, he adored the way you would yell at him and get so wound up that you looked like you would kill him. It was going to be a lot of fun torturing you with the new dance routine you were stuck doing.

The practice later that night was weird, you were alone with Jimin and your tutor in the studio. The usual bright lights were dimmed down to a seductive tone and you were being shown a video of what your tutor wanted you to do. It was something she and her husband had done for their first dance competition together.

"Isn't this a couple's routine?" You asked blankly as you watched her and her husband on the screen dancing around the floor, using each space up to their adventures, hands travelling on one another's skin as well as acting like a young and in love couple. There was no way on this Earth...Or any Earth that you could act like that with Jimin. There was too much hatred there for any fake love to even appear.

"You will both appear on stage, young, in love and I will hear nothing else about it!" Jimin rolled his eyes as he watched the couple begin to slow dance, twirling the girl around and dipping her backwards. Everything was relatively easy with the moves so he knew there would be a bigger dance number throughout the dance night for the rest of your class.

"You will be the ending number," The song was coming to the chorus and you watched in 'awe' as her husband lifted her with ease, doing a turn as her back arched over his forearm all of the moves were easy but the way they were holding themselves was the hardest part. Being in love was something you'd never experienced and you doubted that Jimin had ever been in love, who would ever love someone as cold-hearted as him. The song ended with the couple slowly dancing around the studio before spinning Madam Lalaurie out and into his arms leaning down at the side and holding her there until the chords finished.

"It's beautiful," Jimin complemented not wanting to upset Madame Lalaurie, he was right. The choreography was beautiful but not something you would wish to do with Jimin in a million years, hell dancing with Jimin was not something you wanted to do in a million years.

"I'm trusting you both with the ending number, I suggest you start getting along or the fate of this dance class rests on your hands." You nodded and she left the laptop with you both, she knew you could both follow along easily and so she left you to practice alone.

"We're going to have to change those lifts to something else, there is no way I can lift you." You grabbed his hand and twisted it around to his back gently pushing it towards his shoulder blades, you had enough for him. He'd done nothing but bicker and make snide comments in all of your classes that day and you wanted to make your point clear.

"We will dance the hell out of this number, we will make it look like we're in love but believe me Park Jimin, I do not like you. I do not want to see you outside of practice and I do not want to see you after the show is over." You dropped his hand and he groaned rubbing his arm as hit ached from the position you'd held it in, it was something you'd learnt to do to your brothers when they wouldn't leave you alone. It was good to know it came in handy for something else other than annoying your younger brothers.

"Let's just get this over with, I don't want to be here anymore than you do." You told him as you walked over to the speakers and got everything ready. Jimin changed into a tank top with his black sweatpants and you stayed in the oversized shirt and sweats you always came to practice in. You never wore anything else unless you knew you would be dancing alone, Jimin watched as you walked back over to him and got into place.

Dancing with Jimin hadn't been too bad, you'd been coming to practice every day for a month getting the routine right, spending hours together and doing nothing but practice. Neither of you spoke about anything except the routine at first but as the month went on you started talking about what made you want to start dancing in the first place and why it meant so much to you. You started to see why every girl on campus was falling in love with him, he was a smooth talker and wasn't so bad once you got past the whole 'I'm better than everyone else' facade that he put on for everyone, in fact, you even found yourself slowly starting to fall for his charms, which was stupid considering you'd spent the last four years of your college life hating the guy.

"What's taking so long? Surely you don't need this long to...get...ready." His voice trailed off when he looked up to see you walking into the room. His mouth hung open for a second as you brushed down the high waisted tie up maxi skirt you were wearing. It was a floral colour and went along great with the white strappy crop top you were wearing,

"Madame Lalaurie wants me to practice in the outfit for that night." You mumbled going over to your bag in the corner of the room and reaching in for the strapped heels that she'd picked out for you.

"Y-Yeah, that's a good idea." He stuttered wanting to kick himself in the head for becoming a mess around you. You were still Y/n, the same girl he'd been in competition with for years and the same girl he was going to go back to ignoring once this whole mess was over with.

"Ready?" You questioned turning around and looking at him, he nodded and hit play on the small remote in his hand. You got into your starting place and waited for the music to fill the room, Jimin's hand graced your wrist and he pulled you onto his chest in time with the music. The quick three-step waltz was the easiest part of the routine, again...everything was easy except for acting like you could stand to be around Jimin.

"Lift." He whispered pulling you into his chest and spinning you around in the air, both of you looking into one another's eyes as he turned you around. The spin ended and he put you down, one arm around your waist while the other trailed down your hair. Your arm around his neck as you swayed in time to the music, he grabbed your hand and twirled you out and back in again. Going back to the side to side waltz with spins between them, the door creaked open but neither of you noticed as you tried to concentrate on the steps you had to do. The second lift of the dance came up and you were pulled into the air by Jimin,

"So this is the famous Y/n." You hit the floor with a thud and groaned as you rubbed your ankle, you looked over at the door to see Namjoon, Jin and Jungkook all friends of Jimin's. They'd been in one of your first-year classes and you hated them almost as much as you hated Jimin.

"You're late, move it," Namjoon ordered leaving the room with the rest of them following behind, Jimin dropped onto his knees beside you to look at your ankle.

"You okay?! It was an accident I swear, I didn't hear them come in and I freaked out," His hands were on your ankle applying a small amount of pressure but it felt nice.

"It's okay, I'm fine." You looked up at him into his eyes and you could have sworn they sparkled for a split second as he gave you a sympathetic look.

"You sure?" He bit down on his lip eyes dancing between your eyes and your lips as he stared at you. You nodded slowly not saying a word, your head was filled with nothing but thoughts of him kissing you, the pain in your ankle was gone and all you wanted to do was kiss him. He leant forward towards you and you closed the gap between you, your foreheads resting against one another as though you were about to kiss when he groaned hearing his name being yelled from down the hall. He got up in a rush and left you on the floor, you stared at the door as he left before groaning to yourself and taking off the heels you were wearing.

"What was that she was wearing dude? Is she showing herself off to you now?" Jungkook joked laughing loudly as they waited for the elevator to arrive, you hadn't meant to eavesdrop, you were just trying to leave and go home for the night but they were all still in the building. You hoped Jimin would defend you but you felt defeated when you heard his usual cocky laugh filled the hallway and you held your back against the wall,

"Fuck, she just tried to kiss me as well. I must be irresistible," Your breath hitched in your throat as you heard them all step into the elevator making jokes about you being a desperate little girl wanting attention from Jimin.

"I heard she slept with most of the football team though, probably not someone you should be spending so much time with." You heard Jin say and your heart lurched as you heard Jimin agree with him. You sank down onto the floor in the hallway when you heard the doors shut and you pulled your knees into your chest trying not to cry. The dancing had come so far with Jimin and you thought you'd made some kind of progress or at least make him less of a cunt towards you but he was still the same old Jimin that hated you and bad-mouthed you to everyone on campus. You knew he was the one to start to football team rumour, he was the one that started them all and it was one of the many reasons that you'd been single and no one made a move on you over the years at college. No one wanted to catch what you had, but you had nothing. You hadn't slept with someone except your first serious boyfriend when you were 19, you took a deep breath trying to remind yourself that you had to do this for the team. The dance was just for the team, nothing was ever going to happen between you and Jimin no matter how much you'd wanted that kiss, he was too much of an arrogant arse for you to ever like. Tomorrow was the final practice you would have before the show so you only had to suck it up for two more days. Two more days and everything would be back to the way it was, you could go back to ignoring Jimin and he could go back to hating you and making your life hell.

Final practice day was here and you were showing Madame Lalaurie everything you'd been doing for the last month, you were back in the skirt and heels while you waited patiently for Jimin outside of the studio. He rushed up the hall with his usual gaggle of boys behind him and you got up ignoring his glances as he walked towards you, you stood in front of Madame Lalaurie and smiled at her, faking that you were happy to be there. If you could fake in front of her than the group would be easily fooled, Jimin joined your side and you both smiled at her.

"I trust you've both been practising as much as possible?" You nodded in silence and she hit her stick against the floor for the sound guy to start the music. It filled the air and you got into place, looking at Jimin as he stepped over to you and started the usual dance.

Everything was going fine, you were acting 'in love' right until the point when Jimin caught sight of Namjoon and Jungkook joking through the glass window of the door and he ''accidentally'' dropped you on the second lift like he had done the night before.

"Sorry, she's just too heavy for the lifts." Your breath altered a little as he basically called you fat in front of your teacher as a sound technician,

"You will continue to work on it, you're still acting as though you hate one another! Another full day of practising, without interruptions. That includes your gang of misfits outside Mr Park."

The room was emptied and Jimin placed the cardboard up against the glass window, it's what Madame Lalaurie used when she wanted complete privacy in a lesson.

"I just-"

"Whatever, can we just dance so I can go home please." You snapped at him and he nodded along with you starting up the music and getting into place.

You were covered in sweat and so was Jimin, you were going to practice until you feet killed you if you had to, you had to get the emotions right for it but all you felt towards Jimin was hate. Hate for everything he'd ever put you through and hate for what he'd said in front of your tutor.

"Do you even know how to be in love?!" He snapped at you, you'd been training for three hours and it was starting to get dark outside from what you could tell from the skylight,

"Don't start Jimin, I'm not in the mood." You kicked off the heels wanting to dance without them on for a while but Jimin wasn't having it, he was just as angry as you were about everything. He didn't want to be there either but he was sticking it out and doing all of the competition and he didn't see the reason for you making this a bigger deal than it was.

"Come on! A girl like you has to have been in love at some point." That was it, a girl like you? What did that even mean?

"A girl like me?! Why don't you go and ask the entire football team what they think? Or I don't know...Maybe ask yourself since I was such a dirty whore and gave you an STD!?" You finally screamed at him and he lost it, he shook his head at you and scoffed looking you up and down.

"I was just letting everyone know how much of a dirty slut you are," You pushed his chest a little and he stumbled backwards quickly regaining his balance and coming face to face with you.

"Fuck you." You mumbled to him and he smirked cocking his head to the side and staring into your eyes,

"You'd love to, wouldn't you?" You turned to walk away but he grabbed your arm and span you into his chest, out of reflex your left leg curled up around his waist and he smirked more.

"See...You're just as desperate to fuck me as I am to fuck you." You tried to pull away but he kissed you roughly his hands grabbing onto your side and holding you in place. Your hands worked their way into his hair and you pulled on the blonde strands,

"I hate you." You said breathlessly as he pulled away from the kiss only to connect your lips sloppily again,

"I hate you more." He pushed you towards the mirror and pinned your arms above your head as he made out with you. Every emotion was too much for you to process, the main one you had was lust. You wanted him and you wanted him badly but you were never going to tell him that.

"You want me to fuck you?" He groaned biting on your bottom lip and chuckling as you let out a whimper from the feeling.

"Shut up and fuck me if you're going to," You hissed at him already feeling the pool form in the panties you were wearing, one hand, held your wrists in place while his other travelled down to your skit, pushing his way through the slit at the front and into your panties,

"Shit princess, you're soaking." He chuckled looking at you as he ran his finger over your needy clit, you let out another whimper.

"You sure you hate me?" You whined out as he took his hands away from you, you dropped to your knees and pulled down his sweatpants.

"You sure you hate me?" You mocked as you took his length from his boxers and smirked, he was bigger than you thought he'd be. At least his huge ego wasn't compensating for anything, you licked small stripes on the tip and smirked as he groaned out your name and a string of curse words as you continued to tease him,

"Don't tease." He hissed gripping onto your hair trying to get you to take his length into your mouth but you pulled away from him and looked up at him innocently,

"Nah, I think we should practice some more-" You were cut short when he pressed his member into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat as he roughly fucked your face. You pressed down hard on your thumb to stop yourself from gagging and looked up at him, he was lost in a world of his own so you moaned around him sending vibrations through his body.

"Ah- shit," He grunted his hips stuttering as he felt himself getting close already, you were like magic to him and he'd dreamt of this for so long.

"Fuck, get up." He ordered you, pulling out of your mouth and shoving your chest first against the mirror.

"I still fucking hate you, you're just a hole I need to use." He hissed yanking down the white top and smirking as your breasts bounced a little before being pushed against the cold glass.

"Whatever, just fuck me Jimin. Please." He chuckled hearing pleasantries falling from your lips,

"Such a good little girl, using your manners." You rolled your eyes at him and he slammed into you holding himself deep inside of you and holding your neck in his hand. No pressure was there but you were still at his beck and call from the moment he touched you.

"Clenching around my dick and I haven't even started yet, do you like being choked?" You whimpered not wanting to answer his questions, giving him answers meant opening up to him and it wasn't going to happen. He pulled out of you before slamming back inside and holding you in place.

"Answer me," You whimpered as he reached your hilt but didn't move,

"Yes! Fuck! Yes, I love being choked now will you just fuck me!" He chuckled darkly before holding onto your hip and repeatedly slamming in and out of you, his other hand still locked around your neck.

"Fuck I hate you," You choked as he tightened his grip around you,

"Shit baby, the way you're letting me fuck you right now says something else." You hissed as he hit your sweet spot without difficulty ramming into roughly.

"I'm gonna fill you up because that's all you're good for isn't it?" It was a question and he wanted you to answer it but you kept your mouth in a thin line not wanting to moan or even entertain the idea if it meant making him happy. He dropped his hand from your throat to your clit and began drawing circles as he continued to thrust in and out of you unrelentingly.

"Is it all you're good for?" You nodded and whimpered as you felt yourself drawing closer to your release with each thrust he was giving you.

"You're clenching around my cock so much, fuck who would have thought that fucking you would shut you up?" You hissed at him,

"Why didn't you just ask the football team." You snarled at him and he hand was back on your throat forcing your head to look at yourself in the mirror.

"Watch yourself as I fuck that pretty little pussy, huh?" You whimpered watching the way he entered you in the mirror, he hiked your leg up onto the pole that rang along the mirrors.

"F-Faster." You begged, looking at him in the mirror and he smirked at you plunging faster and deeper inside of you so quickly, you didn't think it was humanly possible for someone to thrust this fast. Your hands gripped onto the pole in front of you to steady your shaking legs and you felt yourself filling up with the overwhelming need to cum.

"You're clenching so much, does baby need to cum?" You nodded and he grunted feeling you clench once again, he continued his inhuman thrusts and you moaned out his name.

"Fuck Jimin!" You cried out as your pleasure hit you like a wave, washing over you as you felt the warm feeling spread throughout your body, your legs shook and your hips bucked backwards into his. His hands fell onto your waist to hold you in place as he filled you up. Putting his neck into your neck as he came down from his high, you stayed like that for a minute or two before he pulled out of you panting heavily. His seed hit the floor and dribbled down your leg making you whine out at the feeling of being so empty. You bit your lip as you thought back on it, your feelings of hatred were starting to be clouded by a new feeling for Jimin, one you didn't like and were totally unsure of...Maybe he wasn't so bad after all? You hated the thought of you falling for him after everything he'd done to you.

"I'll drive you home." He whispered pulling you closer and leaving a gentle kiss on our temple as he went to clean himself up.

Neither of you spoke after that, you went home as if nothing happened and went to the venue of the dance competition the next day as though nothing happened. Jimin was outside the changing rooms of the venue with all seven of his friends - all there to support their best friend and you kept your head down as you walked past them. Each of them mumbling something to the other but Jimin stayed quiet, watching as you walked over to Jihoo and told her something, he wondered what it was but he knew it was none of his business.

"You should get changed, you're on last but they want to make sure our clothes are appropriate." Jihoo snapped at you and you frowned wondering what her problem could have been,

"What's wrong?" She scoffed and pointed over at Jimin and his friends,

"You slept with Jin even though you know I like him? Why couldn't you just fuck Jimin?" She raised her voice a little and other girls in the room turned to see what was happening,

"What are you talking about?" You whispered trying to get her to calm down but it wasn't working, she was fuming with you.

"Jin's told everyone already, might as well just own up to it."

"Jin told people I slept with him?" You questioned glancing over your shoulder to look at Jimin but he kept his head on the floor. It was a stupid thing they started a couple of months ago and he had no idea it was going to make it's way around now.

"I didn't- I haven't slept with anyone in years Jihoo-"

"Save it, Madam Lalaurie is looking for you." She stormed off in the opposite direction and you walked over to Jimin staring at him.

"You disgust me! You! Don't even fucking get me started on you!" You said directing your attention at Jin before storming off to find your tutor.

You stood on the stage with Jimin and you took in a deep breath as the lights filled the stage and landed on you both, he took his steps over to you and you both began dancing with one another, acting young and in love. It was harder than ever before now you had to pretend you hadn't slept together and he was ruining the only friendship you ever had. He spun you around in the air the first time and when he brought you close to him he whispered,

"I didn't tell her Jin slept with you." He whispered still with a giant smile on his face, you span out and back into his arms once again, ignoring his comments and counting in your head.

"No one said anything, no one knows what we did." He whispered again, the second spin came up and he did it without dropping you, the crowd was eating it out of the palm of your hand and you sucked it up about being on stage with him. Ending the dance and smiling until the lights faded and the curtain dropped, the venue filled with cheers and you rushed off the stage and towards the changing rooms. Everyone avoided you as you walked their way, none of them wanting to talk to you after what was going around.

"Just let me talk!" Jimin yelled banging on the solo changing room door, you'd found it after no one would let you into the main ones. People all gathered to look at Jimin pleading with the door, his friends all laughing to themselves in the background while you cried inside the changing room, your back pressed against the door.

"Y/n? You're crying? Fuck I hate it when you cry, open the door please." His voice was filled with concern but you didn't want to lean into him faking concern for you once again,

"Five minutes! We need to be ready and on stage!" You heard Madame Lalaurie scream, people filed away from the door but Jimin stayed stood in place wanting to comfort you, hold you in his arms as you cried but you weren't going to come out any time soon.

"And the winners of 2020's dance competition is..." A loud drumroll filled the air to build anticipation, you stood on one side of the dance group and Jimin on the other. You stared forward while Jimin watched you carefully, your cheeks were stained with tears and your eyes were bloodshot, he felt terrible for everything he'd ever said or done to you and this...This was just the cherry on top of the cake.

"Madame Lalaurie's class of 2020!" The stage and crowd screamed and as everyone came together to celebrate you walked off the stage and back to your changing room, packing your side bag up and throwing it over your shoulder.

"Y/n!" You heard Jin pant from behind you as you made your way towards the exit,

"Y/n! Slow down!" You ignored him and continued to press forward until he pulled you back and forced you to stand still.

"Look it wasn't Jimin who started that rumour," You scoffed at him,

"Going to have to be a little more precise with that one Jin, there's a lot of rumours going around," He sighed and looked at you,

"The one about me and you, I heard there was cum found in the dance studio and I made a joke about it being me and you, I didn't mean for it to get out of hand...I just-"

"Though it would be cool to jump on the bandwagon of me being a slut, it's okay. It's whatever, if you could go and explain that to Jihoo though, I'd entirely grateful." You snapped at him sarcastically leaving him in the hallway and going out to the car park to find your car. Jimin was close behind you and so was everyone else, all of them excited to celebrate their new win of the day. You slammed your boot and Jimin pressed you against it so you couldn't move,

"Leave me alone Jimin, you got what you wanted. A quick fuck, ruined my life and the trophy to top it all off. Can you just let me leave while I still have a little dignity?" You tried to move out of the way but he kept you in place.

"You think that's all you were? A quick fuck?" You shrugged your shoulders at his question.

"I didn't see you asking me out, or jumping to defend me when everyone on the team was accusing me of sleeping with Jin." He cleared his throat and sucked on his teeth moving away from you, you knew he would never defend you. You walked to your car door when you heard him clear his throat again,

"Can I have everyone's attention please!" Everyone stopped yelling and turned to look at him, expecting a speech from the guy that had gotten them their win for the day.

"I want everyone to know that the rumour about Y/n sleeping with the football team was just a rumour, the rumour about her sleeping with me and giving me an STD...Again just a rumour and I want everyone to know that I'm in love with her." Your mouth fell open and Jihoo smirked from the bus, she knew he was in love with you. It was clear to see,

"The rumour about her and Jin being together last night in the dance studio isn't true...It was me and her, we got a little heated after a fight." Your cheeks felt like they were on fire as you watched Madame Lalaurie turn to look at you both with a disapproving look.

"I don't want to hear any more rumours about the girl I love...Do I make myself clear?" Everyone mumbled a yes before getting onto the bus a little bummed out that there wasn't a huge speech about winning but Jimin turned to you.

"Good defence?" You said nothing to him, you just did a small jog before wrapping your arms around his neck and making out with him in the middle of the crowded car park.

"Are you coming with us or with Y/n?!" You heard Jin laugh from his car and Jimin looked down at you raising his eyebrows asking if it was okay to go with you.

"He's with me," You yelled back to them taking his hand in yours and kissing him once again, you didn' think you could ever get tired of kissing him.

Tagline:

@writingdreamsnottragedies @yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @jooniesdarlingdimples @fan-ati--c @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel @rjsmochii @btsiguess-kpop @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie

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juleswolverton-hyde · 4 years

Text

The Castle on the Hill Chapter 1: Hyde

Genre: Smut, Romance, Fluff, Thriller, Werewolf AU

Pairing: Werewolf!Bangchan x Reader

Warnings: No warnings apply

Summary: Superstition is as powerful as religion, especially to those living in the countryside. Nevertheless, the sole outsider in town fully joins in the belief of the Last Warden of the North and is insistent on protecting the only girl who accepts him yet refutes the local lore.

However, there is something in the castle on the hill.

And it hungers for something in the village below.

Someone.

You.

Author’s Note: Hello,

Indeed, I am still very much alive but have been extremely busy with university and my job. However, now that the holidays are coming up and I am on my Christmas break, I have a wee bit o’ time to write leisurely again.

I came up with this tale when I was in Cardiff in November, strolling around Bute Park and thinking of ‘Castle on the Hill’ by Ed Sheeran. And, let us be honest, I was thinking of Chan as well (though that should not come as a surprise at this point).

Regardless, hopefully you will enjoy this wee trilogy.

Forever yours,

The Red Raven

Hyde / The Marriage of Man and Beast / Jekyll

Masterlist

Religion is a form of superstition, but just as powerful as the latter for it has ruled mankind in equal amounts, co-existing yet often the cause for war as well. In contemporary times, however, the belief in all folkloric creatures seems to have faded into a case for a good laugh rather than truly believing death will come at hearing the wail of a banshee or swearing the ghost of the black nun continues to haunt the ruins of the friary at which entrance she is buried. Withal, the faith in a particular mythological being has been altered time and again thanks to pop culture but, perhaps fortunately so, the origins of the legend remain remembered vividly by the people who inhabit the area the tale stems from.

The golden sunlight outlines the ruins of the majestic castle that once graced the hill outside the park, mustard and amber leaves littering the pathways frequented by strollers while the weather still permits it. Soon, winter shall conquer autumn and the rains increase in frequency. Henceforth, the days running a small café in the middle of the park is enjoyed the most when all is grand, the world frozen in a perfect seasonal frame.

‘You’re either immensely stupid or incredibly brave to run this establishment, lass.’ A cup of steaming black coffee is served to the wise old man living around the corner of the recreational ground, the white brick worker’s house providing a view on the scenery that everyone seems to fear even in the twenty-first century. Always up for conversation, Paidraigh has helped a novice independent entrepreneur almost flawlessly continue the business formerly run by one of the local women who had to stop due to health issues. He might look like a grumpy soul despising the world, but the stout figure with wise wrinkles and bushy pale beard is actually one of the kindest people residing in the wee village.

‘How do you mean that, sir?’

‘Have ye nay heard o’ the wolf inhabiting the castle?’

‘I have heard the whispers of strange sounds coming from the ruins at night, aye, but I am sure it’s nothing to worry about.’

‘The word’s it’s a wolf, the spirit of the fierce Last Warden of the North to whom the castle once belonged. It’s said that once he entered the battlefield, all that would be left o’ the enemies were bloody carcasses. As if eaten by, ye guessed it, a wolf.’ Kind stone irises gain a wary glint once they wander to the edge of the sandstone terrace, noticing the heavy boot fall of the town’s most recent inhabitant. ‘Speak of the Devil and he shall appear.’

‘Paddy, don’t be mean. Drink your coffee and leave the lad be, alright?’ A palm amiably pats a broad shoulder before tucking the serving plate under the armpit and heading back to the counter to take a new order.

And likely do more than that, knowing the newcomer.

‘Alright, fine. Just watch yersel’ around him. One wolf is more than enough for this village.’

‘Hiya, how are you?’ Before the habitual order can be placed with as few words as possible, attention is called to the deep scarlet scar running over the bridge of a big nose. ‘What did you do to get that?’

‘Bar fight.’ A soft smile is laboriously carved onto roseate lips, likely albeit clearly suppressing the memory of the scene causing the physical damage. Nevertheless, once gazes lock, the hatred is actively tried to be kept to a bare minimum and show a friendly side the reclusive does not always reveal to anyone. ‘An americano, please.’

Without speaking further, the beverage is prepared. However, as the coffee machine is buzzing while freshly grinding beans to create a perfectly brewed medium roast, the first-aid supplies stored in a cupboard beneath the counter are sought out and taken alongside the drink to the outside of the little booth. Of course, it could have been slid to the customer immediately through the window but it simply happened to unnecessarily be carried as well.

‘Here’s your americano.’ Sitting down on the empty stool across from the silent force looking on in surprise while maintaining a friendly though slightly tired tone, fingers search among the medical care items for the disinfectant and a cotton pad. The frustration wants to be kept to a minimum but it is hard to do so when this very same scene keeps repeating itself and fuels the bad image the villagers have of, in their eyes, a stranger.

Bruises and open wounds thanks to fights that were either started by one’s own volition or after provocation.

Cuts thanks to carving the wooden pillars dotting the grand park, curiously staying close to the little café and helping out at times by remaining on the grand lawn regardless of how many meters need to be bridged to get the new piece of art where it belongs.

‘I’m fine.’ The remark is clearly meant to dismiss the caregiving yet results in all but that since physical damage, no matter of what nature and source, do ignite a genuine worry for the local woodcarver.

Although the habitual resorting to sarcasm protects sincere emotions from showing. Nonetheless, it is helpful in chastising, never failing to eventually get Christopher to look like a guilty puppy while patching him up. ‘And I’m the Queen of Sheba. You strained yer knuckles too much and now they’re bleeding again.’

‘It’s but a scratch.’

‘Is what the Black Knight said before he got annihilated by King Arthur. Give me your hand, you eejit.’

‘Y/N, it’s fine.’

‘No, it’s fecking not.’ A deep sigh lowers tense shoulders admitting that stubbornness will lead nowhere and thus take a soft-spoken yet still genuine approach. ‘I just want to help. Please, give me your hand.’

Howbeit reluctant, the damaged calloused palm nevertheless reaches out and comes to rest in a concerned lap as small digits wrap lightly around the wrist to keep it in place. ‘Thank you.’

The bystanders are ignored as the fresh ugly patches of broken skin are taken care of, taking great care to clean the wounds properly before bandaging them up. Withal, what cannot be ignored is the low threatening growl rolling from plush lips with every touch of disinfecting cotton. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Sorry. It’s just that, grm, it really fucking hurts.’ Teeth grit, snarls and hisses alternating with the light dabs as irises shoot invisible daggers. The free hand which has yet to be treated moulds into a trembling fist trying to remain static despite the agony.

‘Then maybe you shouldn’t get into fights in the first place. What even was it about?’ The damage has been cleaned enough to apply an ointment and bandage the harmed knuckles, gaining the same feral reaction as before.

Notwithstanding, the silence is filled by wordlessness and primal noises, igniting an irritation at the deduction the chastisement is ignored in stubbornness. However, the assumption is counteracted when a whisper provides a muttered surprising answer that fuels a novel sort of annoyance in the mocha locks sitting on the stool. ‘Someone insulted you.’

No, it is not irritation.

Rage.

Pure fury, barely contained.

‘Me? Why?’ Puzzled by the confusing display of hatred against an absent party, locks tilt in patient curiosity waiting for the story.

‘It wasn’t really an insult. Just men drunkenly talking about how they’d show up here to surprise you and you’d be the girlfriend of one of theirs and how lucky you’d be with one of them.’ The split bottom lip is caught between pearly teeth, nibbling while trying to regain a calmer composure even though it is hard when the second set of broken skin is about to be treated. ‘I couldn’t- couldn’t, fuck, that stings! I couldn’t stand the arrogant, hrm, tone and nonsense so I... I just lost it. Snapped.’

‘Christopher-’ The imminent correcting in spite of secretly being flattered by the reason that likely holds no meaning whatsoever since there is more of a patient-nurse relationship is cut short by a low snigger. ‘Hey, why are you smiling like that?’

‘I just like the way you say my name.’ Bright earthly irises set above a big nose marred by a scar likely inflicted by a knife blade are humoured, the sentiment filtering through in the gentle curve of plush lips. The playful aura makes the woodcarver appear quite boyish, a stark contrast with the pub brawler the village has cast out from the beginning.

‘Well, it’s yours, aye?’ Heated cheeks faking casualness return to the task of taking care of the other damaged hand, trying badly to ignore the sweet smile now vividly engraved into memory.

Keep it together. It means nothing. You’re more his nurse than anything else. You’re just friends, if there is any friendship at all. He simply trusts you.

‘Yeah, but-’

‘And I’m sure I don’t say it any differently than any other person.’

‘Still, I like- fuck!’ A giggle flows over into a curse when the bandage is tugged perhaps a bit too tightly to nevertheless teach the lesson of not getting into fights as often as one does. A pleased little grin cannot be suppressed, hiding the delight at the hopefully effective teaching method that will lessen the scene which is exhaustingly re-enacted over and over.

‘If you didn’t get into fights, I wouldn’t have to keep patching you up and you wouldn’t have to deal with the pain.’ A new cotton pad is soaked in disinfectant while throwing a cautious glance in Paddy’s direction, the old man’s lips tightly sealed as grey whiskers move ever so slightly in discomfort.

‘He doesn’t like me.’ A sombre self-aware tone sneaks into lowered defeated shoulders turned towards the old cod, gaze softening in powerlessness.

‘That’s not true.’ The seemingly misplaced remark pulls the young man’s attention, head slightly tilting to the side while irises remain strangely heart-wrenchingly grave.

If only they could know you the way I do.

‘Y/N,’ the powerful mere word is spoken as if surrender is not an option, that the truth of being disliked has to be admitted even though it does not want to be, ‘It’s obvious. Everyone’s afraid of me.’

‘The only thing they’re really scared of is the wolf up in the castle.’ Mocking local superstition, a sigh rolls from the lips setting to work on the carmine single cut running over the nose. There is no resistance this time, Christopher moving, in fact, to the edge of the stool for better access and to make cleaning the scar easier. ‘Guess I’ll hear the same uselessly worried whispers again from the customers tomorrow.’

A hand rests leisurely on the thigh for support, but is taken to come to rest on the brawler’s cheek and kept there, a content hum filling the air scented by coffee and cologne. Lashes flutter shut as mocha locks lean into the touch, almost as if falling asleep right here and now. It would be a lie to say the display does not spread an odd fuzzy warmth throughout, especially when memories of healing up close, observing wood being carved from a distance or problems with difficult people were solved in the same proximity as now resurface.

Unfortunately, the delightful image is disrupted a second later for the jaw clenches as a low beastly rumble rises from a broad chest trying hard to remain casual as the disinfectant once again stings in the stupidly acquired cut. Irises light up in an amber flash, bearing a terrifying violent hatred that calms down immediately upon establishing a bit of distance that nullifies the intimacy. A confused heart does not know what to make of it, only that the rage that surfaced as rapidly as it disappeared never wants to be directed towards oneself.

Still, a normal question is raised in an odd undefinable manner that rises from the fearsome wolfish attitude, voice sounding apologetical and clearly wanting to move past something as digits vaguely reach out but drop restlessly in ignorance of what to do. ‘Are you staying open much longer?’

The throat is cleared to regain composure, hardy succeeding yet enough to answer as if nothing happened. ‘Till six, as usual.’ The resumed dabbing briefly stops at the notice of an uneasy shift in weight, a panic without direct cause causing the action. ‘Why do you ask?’

Bandaged hands awkwardly occupy one another in futile twirling of cared-for fingers as the tongue staring at the sandstone is hesitant to voice what suddenly has become urgent. ‘Can you close earlier?’

‘I could but why would I?’ Feigning not having taken notice in the change of demeanour, the last straws are laid in nursing the bloody scar. The palm leaning on the knee of mocha locks, put there in an unconscious move after pulling up the unresisting chin for better access, does seem to calm the nerves somewhat as the regulation of breathing suggests.

When applying the ointment, it is entirely regular and a sigh is relieved with the company.

Only to speed up again when worriedly mentioning the legend that has the entire village spooked even in the twenty-first century. ‘The wolf.’

‘Christopher, don’t you get started as well. There’s no wolf in the castle, no spirit of the Last Warden of the North.’ Shuffling to the edge of the stool, something is attempted to be done about the split lip which has started bleeding again. ‘Your lip is bleeding. Sit still for a wee bit, will ye?’

Calloused fingers wrap firmly around the wrist reaching out after soaking a new dot of cotton in disinfectant, earthly irises ablaze with superstitious concern flowing over in pleading speech. ‘Please close the café before it gets dark.’

‘Look, it’s my business so I decide the opening hours.’ Budging results in nothing but a firmer, even painful grip. Withal, knowing the novel local woodcarver, panic does not set in as it would have had it been anyone else. Still, a meaningless glance sideways is picked up by Paddy as something which does hold significance, the stout old man already rising from his seat when a quick denying nod assures all is well. The command is tranquil yet effectively fierce. ‘Chris, let me go. You’re hurting me.’

As swift as lightning, digits unravel upon hearing the response and move away to create a distance filled by curious emotions that would hint at an intimacy going beyond what is truly present. ‘I’m sorry, he- we didn’t mean to... I- I mean, I didn’t mean to… to...’ A shivering sigh precedes a steadier repeated request, trying to move past the incident while remaining clearly doubtfully calculating of words and actions. ‘Y/N, please. Please close before it gets dark. We don’t- I want you to be safe.’

We? He? Why are you talking like this?

‘I’ll be regardless because there’s no ghost or monster that will slink down the hill to devour me.’ The remark tries to be amusingly sarcastic but it has no effect on the outcast whose grave expression does not change, continuing to stare remorsefully at the red band around the wrists.

The shaking fingers holding soft cotton meant for healing.

Yet ends up hurting.

‘Even if you don’t believe my reason nor the villagers’, close early.’ Lashes are brave enough to look up, keep up the pleading despite being refused over and over.

Maybe I should... no, what am I getting at. It’s just a story, a myth.

‘Can we stop talking about this?’ A palm finds the courage to rise and endeavour to nurse the split lip anew. ‘Sit still and let me help you.’

But soon retracts in heart-pounding concern when unspoken consent flinches as bodies come a wee bit closer to make it easier. ‘Are you alright?’

‘Yeah. Yeah, I am. Ehm,’ mocha locks confusedly and haphazardly glance around the terrace, questioning eyes flitting over the customers as a quite adorable big nose sniffs the air before leaning in to take a whiff, ‘Are you wearing perfume?’

‘No, why?’ The head buzzes with what to think of the weird gesture and unanswered inquiries about how the sudden change of topic has come about alongside the earlier talk in the third person. Brows furrow in wonder of the easiest topic for contemplation since perfume is fairly ineffective if unnecessary for the scent of coffee replaces the function on a daily basis.

‘Oh. Well- You- Never mind.’ A shadow movement forward remains just that, a hallucination without certainty. What is real, however, is the rapidity to get up and turn halfway away yet having the politeness to end the conversation by an unsettling awkward look over the shoulder. ‘I should go finish that pillar.’

‘But... your coffee?’ Christoper is already gone before the sentence can be finished, a gobsmacked offended finger pointing to the cooled cup on the counter containing liquid cold. In an instant, likely due to the great offence taken at letting such a precious gift to mankind waste away, the confusion of the chaotic farewell turns into a barista’s rage directed towards the woodcarver who has fled the scene. ‘The bastard just left the coffee to cool? That barbarian!’

The key turns in the lock, definitely closing business for the day. The moonlight falls in through the autumn leaves, casting moving shadows enhancing the dark of the dusk which has overtaken the quiet town. In the slightly clouded sky, the moon shines bright and illuminates the ruined haunted castle on the hill.

Y/N, please. Please close before it gets dark. We don’t- I want you to be safe.

‘I am completely fine. There’s nothing out here to get me. Also, who is ‘’we’’?’ Jeering strands shake in partial self-mockery at the brief spark of fear quickly running through veins at the recollection of the wish spoken in an oddly worried tone, foolishly spooked by mere folklore. ‘And here I thought you and I were the only sane people around, Chris. Guess it’s just me.’

After a final tug on the doorknob to ensure the place is neatly closed off until the dawn, sneakers start their wading path among the fallen mustard and ruby leaves that have been shaded a hue of onyx, tiger’s eye or plum in the twilight. The wind has calmed from its fierce mannerisms, now only softly blowing among the trees densely planted in the great park.

Carrying the sound of a low rumble as it smoothes over branches.

A snarl.

In the twilight silence another disconcerting noise resonates between carved pillars and trunks.

Padding.

A faint tinkling.

Of iron.

Shackles.

No, I must be hearing things. His and Paddy’s words are just getting to my head. There’s nothing. Nothing.

Withal, the bright amber lights are no will-o’-the-wisps and the appearing fur does not appear in the adorable shape of a squirrel. There is not the faintest trace of innocence to be found in the extraordinary meeting between a gigantic wolf cuffed by a firm iron collar around its neck, the broken chain clinking loudly as it drags over the ground and creates a hideous symphony in combination with the violent low growls of the beast.

‘That’s not possible. There’s no Warden, no wolf. This isn’t real.’ Even as the words are spoken in the futile hope of regaining a sense of logic, the conviction is hardly there. In fact, it is entirely absent. ‘This isn’t happening.’

Nevertheless, the snarled warning tone is too near, the impact too tangible in nerves standing on edge in alarm to dismiss the current situation as mental trickery. Especially because the silver light reflecting off of dagger-sharp canines comes too close for comfort, sending raggedly breathing feet fleeing to the wee café a few meters away while silently praying to reach it alive.

However, every rush forwards paradoxically yields nothing to a panicked mind who can feel warm predatory breath heat the back of the brown leather jacket and slowly rise to the back of the neck. Mortified tears start to brim in the corners of the eyes, damnably obscuring vision at a time when errors cannot be made for one, be it stumbling over a fallen branch or temporarily slowing down, will mean the end.

Christopher, Paddy, I’m sorry I didn’t listen. Youse were right and I’m a feckin eejit. I’m sorry. Chris, I’m sorry.

Growling grows ever closer, whispering of there being no escape because paws shall at one point do more than brush against ankles.

Rampant fingers search the pockets of jeans, cursing while feeling around the fabric for the damned key to open the lock to the safe haven.

Sneakers halt in front of the inaccessible door, still searching.

The wolf has slowed down, no longer running yet not giving up the chase now that the helpless prey has been forced into a corner. Big paws as black as a starless sky in winter pad languidly, bright eyes the colour of the pumpkin spice latte that forms the seasonal special obviously finding joy in the hunting game.

In toying with a hopeless target.

One step forwards.

One step back.

To and fro.

I can’t turn my back on it. Still, I have to if I want to get into the damned café. What do I do? What the fuck do I do?

The shivering spine is frozen in place thanks to paralysis due to pure horror, though digits carefully and hopefully unnoticeable continue rummaging through pockets as they keep a close watch on the impending beastly enemy.

Where the fu- By Jaysus, there it is!

Tense shoulders lower slightly in relief when the key is found on the bottom of the right pocket, the brief second of peace of mind carrying over in an unconscious sweetly delighted sigh.

Which evidently triggers the haste to attack because the sadistic game of threats is cut short as the wolf lunges forwards at the speed of lightning.

Fortunately, sharp-fanged jaws are evaded just in time when the key is rammed into the lock, opening the blasted barrier before slamming the door shut and sealing it off once again. All the while cursing Heaven and Hell together.

Hastily, steps lead around the tiny kitchen in search of anything to barricade the door with. An effort which proves fairly futile as basically all equipment is installed in such a manner it cannot be moved and all tables and chairs are kept outside since thieves do not tend to take furniture when on a heist around here.

Or such is the sentiment with which they are stored outside.

Why, of all the times, did I store them outside? Why couldn’t I at least put one table and chair inside? There has to be something around here, there’s got to be.

The fierce longing finds a wonderful answer in the old yet glistening iron chain lock that the former owner of the establishment used before getting proper locks installed and which has been stored away in the back of one of the counters. Sneaking glances to the amber-eyed predatory shadow roaming the terrace through the window of the main counter, horrified palms reach for the sole barrier between life and death.

Flinching back while hardly suppressing mortified screaming, allowing a meek gasp to escape, when the door leading to the hunting dark rattles as if a great weight has been thrown against it in an attempt to force it open. Blood rushing in the ears of accelerated breathing on the edge of breaking down backs away from the tightly sealed entrance, putting the key that was kept inside the lock into the pocket, shivering thanks to the ice veins have turned into.

Finding safety in the corner of the kitchen, wrapping arms around the knees that have fallen to the ground without muscles and pressing tears knowing this is the end of the line into stony grey denim.

Paddy... Christopher... Chris, I’m so sorry. I wish you were here. Fuck, I should’ve listened to ye instead of being such a gobshite.

The memorized phantom of lush lips take a shivering figure soon to meet death into sturdy woodcarving arms dusted over with soft thin black hair, head resting against the secure chest that has been healed from sickly bruises, bleeding bullet wounds, fresh deep dagger scars or a combination of all. Because, despite the chastisements each time the curious artists shows up at the café in a worsened condition, there remains the recalled moments of mocha locks helping in dealing with difficult customers and men trying their futile luck by going too far. Christopher had been there at an oddly fascinated barista’s side, leaving as little distance between bodies as possible while snarling in warning of touching the boundaries of patience so desperate men would see their chances ruined and people complaining about the pettiest things would know the customer is not always king.

Day in, day out. From the moment the café opens until it closes, staying close by while creating the gorgeously engraved pillars dotting the landscape.

Sometimes even walking homewards together, wordlessly refusing to part ways before having made sure the sole girl in town not distrustful towards an “outsider” has arrived safely and only then cracking on to the personal roof. When not doing so, it is towards working places set in nature, enjoying the hush of the morning as the sun rises in the golden sky.

Hands used to meaninglessly brush against each other.

At some point, it has become a habit to hold his pinky from the moment of being picked up without an explicit arrangement until the destination is reached.

In blissful small talk or a comfortable silence.

I wish you were here. See you one last time.

But death is lonesome in the growling silence of the lush park.

#ksmutclub #Werewolf AU #Bangchan smut #Bangchan #Bang Chan #Chan #Chris Bang #Stray Kids #SKZ

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amanharwara · 4 years

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Eminem - Music To Be Murdered By (Album Review)

“Music To Be Murdered By” is the latest release from the legendary rapper, Eminem. This is his eleventh studio album. Eminem released the album on 17th January without any prior announcement, similar to his previous album Kamikaze.

As you might know, Eminem is one of the biggest-selling artists of the previous decades. Very few artists manage to touch his sales numbers. Even the two of his worst albums managed to put up numbers that for most rappers would be their highest. Needless to say, he is one of the biggest artists in the world with a huge global audience. A lot of his audience is very passionate, which is one of the reasons all of his albums seem to do so well.

The project is a double-album, including two labeled introductions and one labeled outro. For those of you who don’t know what a double-album is, it is composed of two different albums. This one, in particular, is split into two portions containing 10 songs each. The album features 12 artists across eight songs, including artists like Ed Sheeran, the late Juice WRLD, Royce, Black Thought and Q-Tip. The album title and cover have been inspired by one of the most influential and prominent directors and filmmakers of all time, Alfred Hitchcock and his album, “Music To Be Murdered By”. Multiple songs on the album reference him.

His previous two releases have been inadequate trash. Revival and Kamikaze are two of Eminem’s worst albums ever released. Although, don’t take my word for it. You might want to give them each a listen yourself to understand why I say that. My gripes with Revival were the bad production, absolutely cringe lyrics and some of the worst flows. Kamikaze continued that trend of bad lyricism mixed with bad flows, and also attacked new-age rap like a grumpy old man. Two consistently terrible records from someone whose music I enjoyed and adored for a long time is the reason I went into this album with very low expectations. And let me tell you, the album barely manages to exceed even those low expectations.

The album starts with the intro, titled “Premonition.” Em continues the attack on “mumble rap” that he started on Kamikaze. He also talks about his career on the track, from his years of being one of the undisputed rap legends to being bombarded by criticism for his previous few records. The track features a generic trap beat, instances of which can be found on quite a few other songs on the album. However, the one on this track is at least a bit bearable. The track contains its fair share of corny lyrics. At a point, he is boasting about being “as fly as your zipper.” I think the track sets us up perfectly for what the whole album is going to be.

Next up is the “Unaccommodating,” featuring Young M.A. The track contains one of the better trap beats on the record. Also, M.A.’s feature is one of the saving graces on the album. This is because she can flow well on the beat, unlike the certain another rapper on the track. Although, I’ve got to give credit where it’s due. Em is pretty good at this “fast rapping” game that white kids from the suburbs love. If rap was all about talking fast, then Em would be the GOAT, of course. But that’s not the case. One thing I found funny about this track is the line where Em says that his pupils have gotten cornier. Yeah Em, that’s because they’re learning from one of the corniest teachers ever, you. He comes up with some of the wackest lines, I swear. “Where’s Osama been? I been laden lately” This is a line from the chorus of the track. The track contains even more corny lines, peep:

“Cause I met your bitch on the internet now I’m getting head like a Pillow Pet”

“That’s why they call me Kamikaze, it’s plain suicide, yeah”

Em’s old friend and frequent collaborator, Royce da 5'9", joins him on the track “You Gon’ Learn” along with White Gold. White Gold comes in with the chorus, which sounds rather boring to me. Royce comes in with an amazing flow that fits well on the beat. Although, he did make me cringe hard at the colonoscopy line. Overall, his verse is very enjoyable to listen to. Em comes in with his verse containing some very corny lyrics. He has mastered the art of corniness at this point. At least, his flow is a bit better on the track. I couldn’t even be bothered to put up some of the corny lyrics here. I’d recommend you give the track a listen and find out yourself.

Ed Sheeran collaborates once more with Em on the track “Those Kinda Nights.” This is one of the most trash tracks I’ve heard on the album, with some horrendous lyrics. Also, the flow on this one is annoying and irritating. The chorus by Ed is bland and nothing special. I can’t put into words how much I dislike this track.

“In Too Deep” describes details of a toxic relationship that Em and his partner were involved in. I do like the slow and kinda punchy beat on this one. However, I can’t say the same about Em’s rapping. I mean, it’s not as terrible as the rapping on some other tracks, but it’s not any good either. On the chorus, he goes back to his Recovery style of singing which doesn’t sound too good. This is an average track, better than some of the worst tracks but nothing too good.

“Godzilla” starts with Em’s annoying staccato flow which then evolves into an amalgamation of the annoying staccato and the annoying fast rap. The beat on this is good, though, pretty fun to listen to. But that is the only good thing about the track. I was hoping when Juice WRLD (R.I.P) comes in, that it would be at least a bit more enjoyable to listen to. However, even that expectation of mine was deceived. I didn’t enjoy the track other than the beat.

The track “Darkness” interpolates “The Sound of Silence” by Simon & Garfunkel. I’ve gotta be honest with you, the track has grown on me at least a little bit since I first heard it. While the beat is a little bit generic, I do like it. It is slow and kinda melodic, sets the tone for the lyrical content. Speaking of which, the song is written from the perspective of the murderer responsible for the largest mass shooting in US history. It also brings to notice the gun control problem in the US. This is one of the tracks that I think is good and you should give this one a listen.

“Leaving Heaven” sees Em reflecting on his success and what turned him into the person that he is today. He raps about extreme resilience after having been put under very terrible circumstances by life. The beat sounds reminiscent of something that would be on MMLP2. When the Skylar Grey-sung chorus hit for the first time, it did interest me a tiny bit. But that interest waned off by the second time the chorus hit. Also, Em seems to fall back into his annoying staccato rhythm on the verses on the track. Another below-average song, which while not terrible, leaves a lot of room for improvement.

Next might be the only song on the album that I’ve enjoyed thoroughly. And that song is “Yah Yah,” with its amazing use of sampling. It samples Busta Rhymes’ “Woo Hah!! Got You All In Check,” which is a song that I enjoy a lot myself. Denaun went crazy with the beat on this one. The features list on this track is pretty amazing as well, featuring Royce, Q-Tip who you might know from “A Tribe Called Quest” and his solo work, and Black Thought who you might know because of his amazing rap prowess and his work with his group “The Roots.” While I would’ve loved a verse by Q-Tip, he is only featured on the chorus along with Royce. Royce’s verse is pretty good, followed by another good verse from Black Thought. It’s good that Em’s verse is at the end, which makes it easier to skip.

On the twelveth track of the album, “Stepdad” Em attacks his deadbeat dad for leaving him and his mother when he was still a toddler. I hate the chorus on this one. Em’s flow on this sounds similar to some of his older works like Relapse and The Eminem Show. While the flow can start sounding a little annoying at times, it isn’t as bad as the chorus. And the lyrics are pretty good and not much corny when compared to other songs on the album.

The latter half of the album falls flat on its face and is even annoying at points. Marsh is one hell of an annoying song. I can’t even sum up my hatred for it. I’m sorry but I don’t have anything to say about this garbage. Never Love Again sounds like something out of Revival. Little Engine has an interesting and fun beat to it, but the chorus is annoying and Em’s lyrics aren’t any good. Lock It Up’s Anderson Paak feature is alright, nowhere near what my expectations thought it would be. Farewell is another piece of garbage with extremely cringe lyrics and annoying delivery. No Regrets contains a feature from Don Toliver which I couldn’t really care about. It sounds like a very generic trap song. The final song I Will is a reunion of most of the members of Slaughterhouse. This is a bearable track with an alright chorus from Em and an alright beat.

Overall, the album is another disappointment in the Eminem catalog. However, it’s not as much of a colossal letdown that his previous two albums were. It is a huge improvement when compared to Revival and Kamikaze. One of the good things about the album is that Eminem finally collaborated some new artists from the “mumble rap” scene instead of acting like a grumpy old man waving his cane at the kids. While some of the songs sound like generic trap songs, there a few good songs here and there. Some songs are absolute garbage and some are tolerable. It’s a below-average album from someone who I still think is capable of bringing better music than this.

Rating: 4 / 10

#music #music review #album #album review #eminem #music to be murdered by #alfred hitchcock #hiphop #rap #anderson .paak #royce da 5'9"#black thought #q tip

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arwenkenobi48 · 7 years

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The Feral Opress Headcanon Masterpost

Yep, this is gonna be a pretty long post.

Canon Star Wars Timeline:

Feral was the youngest son of Mother Talzin. He was born almost two months premature and had a twin who died at birth. Feral himself almost died because he was very weak. Talzin rejected him because of this. However, the Nightsister Kycina believed there was hope for him and raised him in secret. Once he was strong enough, she delivered him to the Nightbrothers, directly to Savage Opress.

Feral was very quiet and shy as a child, preferring to stay Savage’s side. He would cry at the slightest thing, resulting in his peers calling him a crybaby. Savage would defend him every time.

There are a large number of blue moth-like insects that live on Dathomir, in the caves surrounding the Nightbrothers’ village. Feral watched them when they come out at night. They often settle on his nose and/or horns.

Feral was a late bloomer when he reached adolescence. He even still had four of his milk teeth. As a result, his markings developed later than other Nightbrothers and it made him very self conscious and physically uncomfortable. Poor little babby </3

Feral, like most Nightbrothers, was illiterate until he became a tribal leader, alongside Savage. Even now he can barely count past 23.

Feral was born on a leap year. Technically, although he should be 20, he’s only 5 years old. <3

AU: A Galaxy Far Far Away

Feral is never choked by Savage. Instead, he tags along with Obi-Wan and Anakin, is taken to Coruscant and starts a new life as a Republic officer. He becomes friends with Ahsoka and gets along very well with the Clone troopers. He and Rex also happen to fall in love, as well. <3

Feral has a crush on a fellow Nightbrother, Lash, but doesn’t meet him again until the latter becomes a bounty hunter and finds work on Kamino training Clone cadets.

On one occasion, Feral is captured by Separatist spies, frozen in carbonite and transported to the remote system of Tau Cheti. The planet of Tau Prime - located on the edge of Wild Space - is home to a race of hostile bird-like aliens who have a deep hatred for Zabraks.

Feral barely makes it out of there alive. Lash teams up with Rex, Ahsoka and Anakin to rescue him and they succeed! :D

After finding Savage again, Feral stows away on board the ship that takes them to Lotho Minor. He and Savage have a tearful reunion.

When he finds Maul, Feral is horrified, to say the least. He’s even more shaken up when he realises his home world is in ruins. After Maul is healed, Feral is further frightened by his lust for revenge.

After Obi-Wan is captured, poor Feral finds himself torn between his loyalty to his brothers and the Republic. In the lightsaber fight between Jedi and Sith, Feral loses his right hand to Maul’s lightsaber. He would have lost more if he hadn’t escaped with Obi-Wan and Ventress.

Feral later receives a prosthetic hand, but the poor bab is still very upset. He can’t stop thinking about Savage and Maul. During this difficult time, he meets Yoda and discovers that he is Force sensitive like his brothers. Although he is too old to begin Jedi training, Feral gets an idea of what it’s like from Ahsoka.

After having a vision of Savage’s death on Mandalore, Feral travels to the war-torn planet, much against the will of everyone else. There, he tries to persuade Savage to join him and the Republic. However, he is shot by a Death Watch Commando. The shot doesn’t kill him, but he loses consciousness and Savage, grief-stricken, believes he is dead.

Taken back to the Republic by Obi-Wan, Feral remains comatose for a few weeks. When he regains consciousness, he is heartbroken to learn that Savage is dead. He constantly blames himself for not being able to save his brother. Try as they might, neither Rex nor Ahsoka can console him. </3

When Ahsoka travels to Mandalore to fight Maul after leaving the Jedi Order, Feral goes with her and Rex. There, he and Maul fight once again. Maul ignores Feral’s pleas to join him. Feral bravely states that he has no hatred for Maul and forgives him, hoping that they may meet again someday.

Sure enough, Maul and Feral do meet again by the time of the Rebellion. After Maul’s redemption, he joins Feral in Phoenix Squadron. In that same Rebel cell, Feral reunites with Rex, Ahsoka and Lash, who has become an A-Wing pilot.

Feral survives the Battle of Scarif, the Battle of Yavin, the Battle of Hoth AND the battle of Endor! :D He and Rex are overjoyed that the Empire has fallen and they both live peaceful lives.

Feral, Maul and Rex all pass away on the same day. About twelve years before the events of The Force Awakens, all three of them die peacefully in their sleep. (sry if this is too sad)

AU: Legend of the Night Watcher

Feral and Savage both live relatively normal lives on Coruscant, running a small delivery service.

However, Feral dresses up as a vigilante every night and goes to fight crime in the Coruscant underworld, earning himself the alias of the Night Watcher.

Nobody else knows the Night Watcher’s true identity except for Savage and Maul, who is the ruler of Mandalore. Maul is openly proud of Feral, whereas Savage is very protective and wants Feral to be safe, despite his risky job.

Feral is notably more confident and sassy in this AU, but he’s still the cinnamon roll we all know and love. <3

He and Rex are married as well :D

AU: At Home With The Zabrak Brothers

Feral lives a normal suburban life with his brothers and spends his days playing the guitar in the streets, singing Ed Sheeran songs and the like. He hopes to become a professional musician someday. <3

He is obsessed with Luke Skywalker and watches the Original Trilogy on an almost daily basis. He even has the Jedi’s name tattooed onto his abs in Korean script. XD

Feral vapes frequently, mostly just to annoy Maul when he’s reading so he can blow a huge cloud of steam into his face. :D

His relationship with Mother Talzin is shaky, to say the least. She barely even knows his name half the time.

Feral has a red panda plushie named Luke Skywalker, which he sleeps with every single night <3 In addition to his, he still uses a pacifier and Savage reads and/or sings to him at bedtime.

Feral loves Disney movies and listening to trap music. He always sings in the car when he and his bros are travelling somewhere. Savage now has A Whole New World stuck in his head for eternity XD

Feral is addicted to junk food. When Savage bought a giant box of cookies, Feral snuck into the kitchen in the middle of the night and ate them one by one for about three months solid before he was busted.

He once mistook wasabi for guacamole, which eventually led to him and his brothers being thrown out of Itsu.

In this AU, Feral is basically a big kid. He eats messy, is super innocent and loves playing and having a good time.

AU: YouTuber Life

In this AU, Feral and his bros are youtubers, of course :3

Feral has his own solo channel, called Forever Feral. It’s basically a little like dangmattsmith. Video topics include mini-vlogs, reactions, life hack experiments and LEGO Star Wars gameplay. Feral has his plushie with him in every single video :D

He also has a channel that he shares with his brothers, just called The Zabrak Brothers, which has vlogs, Battlefront 2 gameplay and sketch comedies.

Feral has a habit of making cute commentaries on everything and has become famous for his catchphrase: “Sheesh-kebabs!” which he says whenever something dramatic happens.

Ok, that’s all for now, folks. My hands are numb from typing and I need to rest. But I hope you all enjoy these. MTFBWY <3

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iwillwakeherinthemorning · 7 years

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Eraser

Pairing: Leonard McCoy x Reader

Word Count: 1459 (Wow!)

Description: Contrary to popular belief there are two sides to Dr. Leonard McCoy. There are only two people on the whole of the U.S.S. Enterprise who know them. One carries rank over him. The other holds his heart in her hands.

A/N: Hi everyone! This is for the brilliant @trekken81 and her Ed Sheeran Divide challenge! I have track one called... wait for it... Eraser! *profusely apologizes for corniness* I am also dedicating this to @mccoymostly and her absolutely emotional and goosebump raising head cannon about Joanna McCoy which can be found ---> here Thank you soo so much for reading!!! And without further ado...

“Len? Baby, come back to bed.” You say finding the man after searching through your quarters. “Come on. You have alpha shift. Three more hours.” You finish. Lightly attempting to pull your boyfriend back to bed.

“I’m fine, sweetheart. I can't sleep anyways.” He says in response. “Too many of these damn reports to finish after yesterdays engineering debacle.” He says with a frown easing its way in to his forehead.

“Go, darlin’. I promise I’m fine.” He continues after you’ve given him a raised eyebrow and appeared back at his side. He pulls you further down to himself and plants a sweet kiss to your forehead before gently pushing you towards the empty bed. You reluctantly shuffle back to your room and fall in to a restless sleep.

This is the third time this week that he’s done this.

And it’s only Wednesday.

Your worry is amplified ten-fold when you wake up to find Len curled around you with you midsection in a vice grip.

You gently uncurl his arms from around you and regret it immediately because he lets out a faint whimper with your name on the end of it. The noise pulls at your heartstrings but you know he needs his sleep. And you need to get to work. You begin to get ready and by the time you have, he’s still asleep. Instead of waking up his sleeping form you leave him a note before leaving your quarters.

Len, we need to talk. I love you, sweetheart. See you tonight.

Later that day...

You're trying to figure out exactly what you want to say to your overworked boyfriend. It’s obvious to others around you that you're extremely worried about him. Drowning yourself in worry and a report that has to be finished by the end of shift does that to you. Before you know it 5 pm has rolled around and its time to go home.

With trembling hands you walk back to your quarters hoping beyond all things that Leonard is back from his shift as well, because you don't want to be alone. More than that though you're worried about how he may react to what you have to say. Having had all day to think about how you wanted to broach the subject of Leonards health, all possible negative outcomes have pulled themselves deep from your subconscious. What will he say? Will he be mad? Is he gonna pull the CMO card? Will he break up with me? These questions have all plagued you throughout your 12 hour shift and you don't want any of the answers.

Punching in your entrance code you slowly walk through the threshold only to find it be completely dark. You can't miss the quiet sobs coming from your bedroom though and autopilot takes you straight there.

“Len? baby whats...” But you don't get to finish your question because you're being engulfed in a hug around your waist so tight that it knocks the wind out of your lungs.

“Y/N! Oh my god. You're here. Please don't leave me. Please.” And at that you wrap your arms around him as well quieting his cries running your hands through his hair.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” You repeat those words and bend down to your knees to be at eye level with the man who is usually so strong.

It seems like hours later before he has completely calmed down. And when he has you notice that his breathing has evened out and soft snores are escaping his lips. His grip on you hasn't loosened though. If anything it’s gotten tighter, resembling a little boy who doesn't want his mother to leave him at daycare. Not wanting to risk waking him you pull a blanket and pillow from the bed and shift your two bodies to lay on the floor. His head on your chest and your fingers gently carding through his hair.

A few hours later he wakes up and looks up at you a sudden relief washes over his face to see that he wasn't just dreaming. You had come home to him. You hadn't left him and you were here. You were vital. You were holding him. And thats all he could ask for.

Instead of staying in the same position though he lifts the both of you up and lays you under the covers of the bed before sliding in behind you and resuming his position from before. Your eyes flutter open upon being embraced again and you look down just as he looks up at you.

Try as he might to stop them, tears fill Leonards eyes again and he looks away furiously wiping at his eyes to attempt to stop the constant flow. “Len, baby look at me.” You quietly say before gently taking his face between your hands and moving him back to you. “Talk to me, Len. Tell me whats wrong.” And the floodgates open.

He’s full on sobbing again. And you don't know what to do. What to say. How to do this because this is just as hard for you as it is for him. This man who was once so strong on the outside has crumbled before your eyes. “Shh. It’s okay. I’m right here. I promise you, sweetheart I am not going anywhere.”

“I thought you were gone. I thought for sure that you figured out how much of a failure I was.” He sobs out and the words are like knives to your heart. He thought you had left. The note... you quickly figured out.

“Baby I am not leaving you. I’m here to stay. You're not getting rid of me. I swear it.” I’m not her. You want to add on to the end. Because you know where this is coming from. You know it and it hurts more than anything to know that he has reservations on his knowledge for your feelings for him.

“I dont deserve you. Jocelyn was right to leave me. I’m nothing but trash. Used up. Scarred. Trash.” He tells you but contradicts himself by holding on to you tighter.

“Leonard stop.” You say pulling him up to face you. “I don't know where this has come from but Len you are not trash. Fuck. Len. You're the best man on this whole God forsaken ship. If anything at all I don't deserve you.” You rant out releasing tears of your own. “I wish I could make you see. Baby, I love you. I love you so fucking much and I wish I could be more for you.”

“No. Y/N I’m not.” And then he’s on this long tangent about stims. And long double shifts at the hospital pre starfleet. And how everyone did it but that “damnit I’m the one that fucked up. I’m the one that wrecked the car and almost killed my baby girl. I’m the reason that Jocelyn left and took Joanna with her. I deserve this. I sure as hell don't deserve you.” And his admission has left you breathless.

Another tidbit of his past. Another piece of Leonard McCoy that finally finishes the puzzle. And your angry. You're angry that he had to do that. That he had no other choice but to pump his body full of toxic chemicals just to be able to do his job. Angry that Jocelyn who you thought was bad enough had just turned in to the worst human being you could possibly imagine. Because instead of staying with him she left. Instead of being there for him through the haze of guilt and self hatred she confirmed his own feelings and left.

And now here you are. On a starship with a man who has opened his heart to you. Become even more vulnerable because he thought that he was going to have a repeat of a time long passed.

“And I’m just selfish enough to have not told you all of this. To make you think that I was a good man. But now you know. I don't blame you for wanting to leave.” Yet again though he contradicts himself by holding on tighter.

“Leonard I told you I am not going anywhere. I’m here to stay. I’m not her. I don't care about what you did. I care that you had to do that. That it was the only way to make you stay awake.” You rant and hold his face again. “I’m mad that Jocelyn left. That she left such a caring and compassionate man when he needed her most. There is no way in hell that you are getting me to leave. I swear to you.” And then he’s kissing you. It’s slow at first. Timid even but then you deepen it and your lost in each other. He needs an eraser from his painful past. And there you’ll be. For the rest of your days.

#bones x reader #Ed Sheeran Divide #Leonard McCoy #reader insert

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