#even when I was an army I was never a hard no on radio play or playlisting

[solarwynd]

https://www.tumblr.com/solarwynd/738134063760769024/one-thing-that-has-been-annoying-me-since-seven-is

this is funny because before FACE not more than 4pjms ever drag other members, that too only when other solos drag jm and provoke them btw. yet jm got the worst hate train and still they trying to drag him and lc. it's not bcz of pjms he gets hate, yes they now have some excuses and fingers to blame so they can be vile but they will drag him anyway. pjms are rightfully angry since jimin got all the hate for 2 remix and 9 days promo without any company support while he got company fav, bongo's ******* allegations then you have jk who was spoon fed everything, hybe even helped with chewing btw yet no one except pjms questioned the company or fandom biasedness.

I hate those edits too and I never gave it a like but blaming it on pjms is wild thing to do since the fandom and other solos are the reason pjms started dragging him. even if jjks organized mass hate train if the army fandom reported and defended jm from them like they do for jk I don't think pjms would have went this far.

no pjms want scooter in jm next album. I won't say we don't want payola ( as in little bit of playlisting even if it's #20 or #10 in tth) and normal support without sabatoges. I'm sure jm has eng songs lined up with the way he was working with eng prod and taking eng lessons whole year but that doesn't mean he's gonna do something like golden. we saw even for fansong jimin worked with that prod. so he most likely atleast contributed a melody or single line. even if not its jimin, the song will be life not some ai generated song

“then you have jk who was spoon fed everything, hybe even helped with chewing”

Sorry this line took me out for some reason lmaoo

Face era was such a roller coaster of emotions for me from beginning to end but I’ll never shake the anger I had at armys who co-signed the things other solos were accusing him of. And I mean regarding him being favorited and getting “tools” from hybe to succeed. (they’re literally still doing the former to this day with what went down on twitter this morning.)

Jk’s favoritism will never get questioned by armys because they think he deserves it the most and he’s the one that armys actually want on top. He’ll always be the most protected and prioritized, which is why pjms have to be 4x as defensive over jimin. There are some pjms who get as nasty as jjks with their drags and I’ll never condone it, but to clap back with the honest to god truth? Absolutely. Cause armys need to hear it.

Scooter and jk are exclusive I’m positive. I don’t think he’s working with jimin but he doesn’t have to for hybe to finally move their ass and support him well as his label. I’m praying that pjm2 goes better and jimin gets the promo he deserves this time around. Yea jimin probably does have English songs lined up which isn’t an issue at all. It’s not like any of the members are barred from ever singing in English since they’re Korean like kpop stans would have you to believe. And it does open up your reach so 🤷🏾‍♀️. Also the fact that jimin is very hands on with his music automatically rules out that it’ll be golden 2.0 because it means it won’t be thrifted rejects. And like blimey said, jimin’s already proven himself with korean songs already so no one could ever call him out on that.

[romanestuffsposts]

I love your page so much! You are so sweet and a great writer 💓💓💖💖

If you feel comfortable, if possible, 🥺 can you do one with daddy’s and the reader on the way from somewhere and they get into a car accident? 🥺 the reader gets hurt

Hi there love! 💜

Ohh thank you so much sweetie you're so kind!

Of course i'll write it for you, i'm sorry if you had to wait to see it written. I hope you'll see it ^^

Oh and if you want to go take a look, i already wrote something like your request, right here ❤️

Enjoyy <33

****

Warnings : car accident, blood, panic, hospital, traumatic, wounds, broken bones, comfort, pet names, emergency, mention of surgery, mention of being paralysed, accident happens during the night, shock state,

Pairings : Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader

Summary : you come back from a birthday party at the tower but end up in a car accident with your daddies

****

you were coming back from the tower. It was Kate's birthday today so eveyone came over to celebrate it with a delicious meal. Everyone came with something to eat or drink and everything were dropped on the dinning table to be eaten afterwards.

You had so much fun, you love everyone that’s there so of course spending your afternoon with these people is a good planning for your day. You couldn’t help but be sad when you had to leave. It was getting late and even tho it’s a party day you can’t forget your daily planning at home.

Your Daddies were talking while you were busy watching the side road passing by as you speed through the road. Your ears were concentring on the soft music playing at the radio. Everything were perfect, the day was, the moments spending with the family were, the drive back home was perfect and relaxing.. yea, everything were good. So why ?

Why do you find yourself on the middle of the road, in the middle of the night with no car to protect you from the cold night ?

You look around you, your vision is blurred, your ears are buzzing and your head hurts too much to ask yourself questions about what happened.

You can see your Daddy coming toward you, he has blood trickling down his left temple and his eyes are glassy. He cups your head in his hands and you see his lips moving but you don’t hear him. You just stare into his eyes.

‘’Steve she doesn’t react!’’ He yells panicked, his gaze never leaving yours ‘’is she still awake ?’’ He asks more calmly.

He’s used to event like this from his past in the army. He knows he has to stay calm for the three of you, if everyone is panicking, nobody will be able to help each others.

He tried to move but he’s blocked in his seat. He groans from frustration, he can’t move so he has to talk to explain what Bucky or you has to do and he hates it. He hates the fact that he can’t help manually.

‘’Bucky you have to listen to me’’ he breathed out ‘’Do not move her, even tho she seems fine you’re not sure of it so don’t move her’’

‘’but what do I do then ?’’

‘’You still have your phone on you ?’’ he hears Bucky says yes ‘’alright then call an ambulance, tell them where we are and explain the state of emergency we are in’’

‘’Steve she’s freezing cold, her shoes are gone and her t-shirt is completely worn and wet’’ he worriedly says

‘’the only way you can help her is if you call help!’’ Steve hears Bucky on the phone and he takes this time to breath out and check if he feels all his body. He knows his upper body is fine because he moved but he doesn’t know for his legs.

He wiggles his toes inside his shoes and sigh in relief when they move. Good he think to himself.

Secondes later, Bucky is at the window looking at Steve ‘’they’re sending someone.’’

~

The next morning you open an eye, it was hard at first but after some minutes you finally come back to yourself. You look around you, everything is white and it’s too much light for your tired eyes.

You moan in discomfort which is followed by other noises. Secondes later your daddies are by your sides ‘’easy baby’’

Oh, your daddy’s voice. It was a nice sound to your ear.

You open your eyes to see your two favorite heads looking down at you ‘’take the time you need, princess. We have water if you want to’’

‘’What happened ?’’ You quietly ask.

‘’We got into a car accident yesterday night but we’re all fine. The doctors took good care of us since we’re here’’ your Daddy smiles

‘’You had to go into surgery for your arm because it was broken and you hurt your ankle too but you’ll be back on your feet quickly. The doctors aren’t worried about that’’ your Papa reassures you. ‘’You hit your head pretty bad too, you had needed stitches’’

‘’And so did i’’ your Daddy shows you his temple where he had stitches with a smile to show you it’s nothing serious. It reassure you a bit more but it’s probably because you don’t have your eyes on it.

You look down at your ankle and see something white that start under your toes and that stop near your knee. You never had something like that before. You look at your arm and see the same thing. Your eyes start to tear up about the fact that you won’t be able to run around, or taking bath, or playing with your friends. You scared of the pain too.

‘’Hey babydoll don’t cry, you’re not going to have it forever, once it’s fixed we remove it. You will be able to do il the funny things you usually do I promise you’’ your Daddy kisses your forehead

‘’Yes and plus, during the time that you’re like this we’ll have to do everything for you. We’ll have to carry you, to let you sleep with us in the bed, to massage you’’ he sighs ‘’it’ll be horrible’’

You giggle through your sniffs. Your Daddies shared a look, they were scared to not be able to cheer you up.

‘’what your Papa said is good things for you but we also have some privileges while you’re like this’’ your Daddy grins, he walks toward the end of the bed as you watch him ‘’what ?’’ You ask

‘’Well’’ he sighs and looks down at your pink toes who are peering up from the plaster ‘’we can tease those little toes whenever we want and you couldn’t do anything about it’’ he lightly wiggles his index finger under your toes.

The sudden feeling make you laugh and then try to retract your feet which is impossible.

He laughs and stops ‘’yea, I’m sure we’ll have all lots of fun during this time’’ he winks

[bidisasterevankinard]

I can't imagine a world with you gone

bucktommy / T / 3981

Buck was happy with Tommy and he wanted him to know it. He wanted to tell Tommy in words how he felt about him. But of course the moment Buck said the words “I’m happy”, universe said “Fuck you”. In the worst way possible. Or Buck has to see how universe tries to take Tommy from him.

(text under cut)

Buck never was so happy as the months he was dating Tommy. He never felt so settled in his skin and relationships, even in way longer relationships with Taylor he was missing part of himself. And it wasn't connected so much with the thing that he dated the man now. It was because for the first time Buck stopped feeling like he was trying too hard to play his part. Like somewhere his girlfriends left him the script he should have followed, but he never read it and always felt lost with them.

With Tommy he felt in his place. Like he finally belongs. Like he can finally do something right, because Tommy likes him despite his flaws, that the man had seen more and more with time passing, choosing to stay anyway. Tommy stayed even after Buck told him, or more like stuttered over every word, why he didn’t like the idea of seeing his parents again, how he wanted them to somehow not to be at the wedding, how he wanted just some more time before he would come out to them telling them about his bisexuality. 

The older man just hugged him, kissed his forehead and told him he shouldn’t feel bad about his parents' mistakes. But he also shouldn’t come out to them if he’s not ready. Tommy said that they could be “just friends” at the wedding. Buck looked at him like he was something else, something absolutely surreal. Not only Tommy wasn’t running from him because of his family drama, he gave him the way to hold the old mask in front of them longer.

Yet, Buck didn’t want it. When he saw the support and something so tender in Tommy’s clean sky eyes, he knew he would come out to them before the wedding. And he did. During the dinner on their first night in LA he looked at them and introduced them to his boyfriend, holding his big hand for support.

Since then their relationships have only gotten stronger. Buck met Tommy’s friends and family, found some stories about Tommy’s past in the 118, army and 217. Heard about some exes Tommy had. But most importantly he began to find out more and more details about what kind of person Tommy is now, falling in love with him every day. 

At their anniversary of the kiss tomorrow, Buck decided to get Tommy to the restaurant the man wanted to try for so long, but couldn’t find the time. So Buck went “all Buck” and found the way to book a table to woo his man on such an important day for them.

Buck was happy with Tommy and he wanted him to know it. He wanted to tell Tommy in words how he felt about him. But of course the moment Buck said the words “I’m happy”, universe said “Fuck you”. 

In the worst way possible.

It started as a big fire at the warehouse where some people were lost. It was just Buck’s call then. But they needed the help of more people, so Tommy’s station came to help, not just with air support, but with leaving some firefighters behind. 

Buck finds out Tommy is one of them already inside the warehouse, where he and Eddie found their victims and is ready to get them out. Tommy’s voice over the radio confirms the order to check the delta zone, and Buck can’t help but feel a strange weight on his heart. As if he should be shouting at Tommy to stay outside. He puts it down to the fact that he is not used to his boyfriend running into the fire like him, and not staying in helicopters skillfully piloting them.

Oh, how he is wrong.

He and Eddie are outside, passing their people to Hen and Chim, and fist bump each other, walking to Bobby, who listens to something said to him and pales. Buck already doesn't like it and he is ready to ask what is wrong when Bobby’s voice over the radio orders everyone to get out.

Everyone inside confirms it, and Buck is happy to hear Tommy too. He turns to the warehouse trying to see his boyfriend getting out when the worst happens.

Something explodes inside. And it explodes in the delta zone. In the zone where Tommy was. Buck for a few seconds can't even move, trying to make his eyes stop showing him a nightmare that can't be real. It can't be true. Tommy can't be in danger in a burning building. It's not true. Buck's just asleep and having a nightmare. He has to wake up. 

He. Has. To. Wake. Up.

But it’s real, he knows, when everyone around him goes loud, but he still can’t move. He hears Bobby order everyone who was inside to give him updates. One by one they confirm that they are going out. Everyone except Tommy.

“Firefighter Kinard, your status?” Bobby asks again, and Buck is pretty sure if he doesn’t not hear the answer this time, he will pass out because he is not breathing, scared to miss Tommy’s answer. He just listens, not breathing, not moving, only silently begging Tommy to answer. “Firefighter Kinard, what is your status?”

Nothing. Tommy still says nothing. 

The radio is silent. Someone starts saying something to Bobby, but Buck only listens when he hears Tommy’s name.

“Firefighter Kinard is still near the delta zone, but,” Buck’s heart misses a beat and he can see that Eddie near him doesn’t like where it goes too, “ he is not moving.” 

And that’s it. Buck fight or flight instinct kicks in, and the body and brain of first responder goes into action. He runs to the warehouse, but not even makes it half a way when strong hands behind him stop him, making him hit the person who dares to stop him from saving his boyfriend. 

“Buck stop,” the person screams at him.

It's Eddie. The traitor who doesn’t let him go and save his boyfriend is Eddie. 

“Stop it. You can’t help Tommy, when you don’t think straight,” Eddie pins him to his body, using all his power to hold Buck. “You don’t even have your mask and air tanks on you, how the hell are you going to go and save him? By killing yourself? Well, I will not let you. And Tommy wouldn’t let you too,” Eddie screams and Buck’s body goes weak. 

Eddie is right. His tank was empty so he took it off and his mask now possibly lays somewhere on the ground, where he lost it when couldn’t hold anything in his hands after he saw the explosion. 

“It’s Tommy, Eddie,” Buck turns his head to his best friend, not being strong enough to stop the tears from his eyes. “It’s Tommy. I-I should save him. I-I can’t lose him Eddie. Please I-I can’t,” he is crying and Eddie hugs him to his chest.

“I know, Buck. I know. Trust me I’m barely holding myself from running there too,” Buck hears in Eddie’s voice that it's true. Tommy and Eddie become friends quickly and they are close like all other 118 family members. Tommy means a lot to Eddie. 

“But we need to think straight,” Eddie’s voice becomes strict. It's the type of the voice Eddie uses on the worst call, when he tries hard to work with a cold head. “We need to let Bobby make the plan and let others save him.”

“B-but,” Buck tries to say it should be him who should save Tommy, but all the words are lost.

“You can’t help him now, Buck. Right now you should let other people help him,” Buck wants to cry from how right Eddie is. 

He knows deep down he is not even close to the head space where it would be safe for him to get into the burning building and save his boyfriend. He knows it's how it should be. But can’t just sit and wait for someone to save Tommy.

It should be him.

He again tries to fight Eddie, but the man overpowers him.

“Buck, I’ll sedate you if you do it again. Will be forever your number one enemy, but at least will save you.” 

Buck screams from pain hearing it.

“You-you never can be my enemy.” 

Eddie looks at him with so much pain in his eyes.

“If I don’t bring Tommy from there alive, save and sound, I’ll be.”

“Never,” Buck whispers, but Eddie hears it anyway. “You can never be my enemy. But please Eddie, please we need to find a way to get him out. And I need to be with you, please.”

Eddie nods.

“Grab the tanks, find a new mask and let’s hear what Bobby has for us.” 

They quickly do it all before coming back to Bobby. 

The man looks at Buck with so much emotion, Buck can’t look him in the eyes.

“I’m not sure I can let you inside, Buck,” Bobby’s captain's voice, yet with so much care, tells him that. “You and Tommy are in a relationship and we still don’t know what condition he can be in. I don’t want to risk anything.”

Buck begs, “Bobby, please, I…”

“You stay with Hen and Chim and let me and Eddie find him,” it’s said abruptly, without any of the care with which Bobby usually speaks, but Buck knows that the very fact that Bobby is putting him out of danger is an act of caring. He's just so angry at everything. He also is tired. So he just falls on his butt, hugging his knees, takes off his helmet and nods, already looking only at the doors from where he expects to see his boyfriend to get out.

It’s never happened, of course.

When Eddie and Bobby are almost out ready to go, he speaks with so much grief in his voice he doesn’t think he ever heard from himself, “Bring him back to me,” he looks them in the eyes. “Please bring him back to me. Alive.”

Buck knows they can’t promise anything, but Eddie still nods at him and Buck has never been so thankful to have him as best friend. 

Buck doesn’t know for how long he sits in the same position, probably no more than ten minutes, feeling how from time to time Chim and Hen glance at him for several seconds between moving to work on their next patients.

He knows they don’t just check to make sure he is not running in the building, but also because they are worried about him. Buck hates that, actually. It’s not him who is in danger in the burning building in who knows what condition. And Buck just sits there letting other people work to save his Tommy when he is first responder too. When he knows how to do the job, but he sits and waits, the only thing left for him it’s to hope. To hope that Bobby and Eddie will find Tommy soon and take him out so Buck can hug him hard and never let him out of his embrace.

He hopes to have a chance to hug and kiss Tommy again soon. He hopes to see his smile again. He hopes to have his boyfriend with him <i>alive</i>.

Familiar hands hug him and take his face in the crook of their neck and Buck only now understands that he was crying all this time. His tears run over his dirty cheeks. Feeling Athena’s powerful aura makes Buck feel a little bit better. He tries to take part of her strength she holds in all her body for himself.  He is also just simply seeking and thankful to feel all the maternal care she has for him right now.

“H-how are you…”Buck tries to gather his thoughts but they are as foggy as the air around them.

“Dispatch said they need more police for control. I was here for some time, and the moment I was free and wanted to find Bobby I saw you. Hen told me what happened. I’m so sorry Buck,” she hugs him tighter and he cries harder.

“I-I can’t lose him, Athena,”  he raises his gaze to her, seeing her face contorted in pain, surely only partially reflecting all the agonizing pain Buck is feeling right now. “He-he makes me feel alive. Really alive. For the first time in my life. He makes me happy and free. He-he… I just can’t lose him. I w-won’t survive it.”

Athena doesn’t say anything but she puts her hand on his head patting it with so much love, Buck cries more.

His chest hurts and he wants to scream how terrible the pain is, but screams are not coming. Because if he gives up to the pain, it will mean he gave up on Tommy and Buck will never dare to do it.

He will hope to the very end. He will hope till Bobby or the doctor will tell him otherwise. 

Bobby’s voice over the radio makes the pain worse and better at the same time.

“We have a firefighter down. He is pinned down and unconscious. Possible spinal and head injuries. We need another paramedic, jaws, C-collar and backboard in the hall between the delta zone and west exit.” 

He wants to run in the building again, but now it’s Athena, like Eddie before, who doesn't let him. Buck watches how Chim and Ravi run inside.

Next minutes somehow are worse and longer than the time he didn't know Tommy's condition. But then he sees his family running out of the building with his boyfriend on the backboard, still unconscious, but Buck can see how his chest is moving and for now it’s enough for him.

This time he doesn’t let anyone stop him from running to his Tommy, jumping in the ambulance with Chim and Hen. No one really stops him.

He takes as little space as he can, letting Chim and Hen work their magic, just holding Tommy’s hand, counting his pulse and trying to breathe in this rhythm.

He kisses dirty knuckles and sends all his strength and fight to his boyfriend.

“I know you're unconscious, but I don’t care. You will listen to me and you will do how I say,” Buck kisses the pulse point on Tommy’s hand. “You will fight every minute when we’ll pass you to the doctors. You will wake up after they’ll put you into your room and you’ll see me sitting near you and you’ll smile and I’ll kiss you. And then we will book the table in this restaurant I booked for us again and we will have another anniversary there,” Buck holds Tommy’s hand near his lips saying it. “You are not allowed to leave me, you hear me? I don’t allow you to leave me. You stuck with me Kinard. And I won’t let you stop fighting to come back to me,” Buck kisses ring finger. “One day I’ll put the ring here so you have to fight. For me. For yourself. For <i>us</i>. Please, Tommy, please. I can't imagine a world with you gone.”

He cries again, kissing Tommy’s hand till he has to let him go so doctors can save his heart. 

Time in the waiting rooms has been going on for an insanely long time. So long that Eddie has time to bring him a change of clothes and make him change in it and wash his face in the restroom. Bobby brings them food and coffee from the dinner near the hospital and all his family looks at him till he manages to swallow half of his portion. 

All he can do is look at the clock, counting minutes till some hours later the doctor comes to tell him that Tommy is fine. No spinal injury, just some bruise on his back, but his pinned hand needed surgery to fix it and Tommy would need a lot of PA. The man also has a lot of bruises, smoke inhalation and a gash on his head that's already been stitched up. But it doesn’t look like he has a concussion. He'll be kept overnight for observation, but he should be able to go home pretty soon.

Buck’s knees buckle under him, when the doctor says the last sentence and he lets the big cry escape him. Bobby and Eddie put him back up and move him to the room the doctor said belongs to the man.

He enters it alone, as the doctor said only one person can stay, and he tells Bobby and Eddie to go home. They hesitate.

“I’m going to be ok,” Buck says to them, but all his attention is already on the man in the bed. 

Buck hears the door closing when he is already near the bed, sitting on the uncomfortable chair, taking the hand he was holding in the ambulance in his. 

“Thank you, baby. Thank you for coming back to me,” Buck traces with his hand the wound on the head carefully and then kisses Tommy’s forehead. “Now rest, baby. I’ll be here.”

He gets as comfortable as he can in the chair, holding his thumb near Tommy’s pulse point and letting his body crash from exhaustion.

-

Buck wakes up hearing someone call him by the name. He opens his eyes, hissing from the pain in his neck, and he sees Tommy who is looking at him with a cute smile.

“You awake,” Buck kisses him, finally exhaling the last tension and pain from everything that happened yesterday.

“Yeah, I am,” Tommy looks at him like Buck puts the sun and stars on the skies. 

“What? Why do you look at me like that?”

“You stayed with me all night,” Tommy shrugs and then hisses. Buck rushes to help him to put his bed in the sitting position. 

“Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I? You're my boyfriend and I’m your emergency contact.”

“No one did before.”

It makes Buck sad and angry at all the other partners Tommy had. Thay had this perfect man and never could stay the night with him at the hospital? Well, it’s their loss. 

“I’m not like them,” Buck looks at their intertwined hands. “And it’s the least I could do for you,” he says, frustrated with himself. For being so weak his team had to stop him from saving his boyfriend.

“Why do you say that, baby?” Tommy looks at him confused.

“I couldn’t save you. E-Eddie had to stop me from running into the warehouse without the mask and the tanks because I lost any cool I have as a first responder. I couldn’t save you. I was just sitting here looking at how the team saved you. Waiting hours for doctors to save you. I did nothing except waiting and hoping for you to be ok,” Buck admits with tears running his cheeks and he can’t look Tommy in the eyes, not wanting to see disappointment in them.

“You did more than you can imagine, baby. You let people you love save you from doing something stupid like run into the fire without proper equipment,” Tommy raises his head using a weak grip in his chin. His blue eyes are kind and caring. “You let the people who you trust save me. And you stayed near me all this time, thinking about me. Trust me, Evan. It’s enough. I need you to be safe too,” Tommy kisses his knuckles. “I wouldn’t forgive myself if you would be hurt because of me.”

“Stop being the one to comfort me. It’s not me who is in the hospital bed,” Buck kisses him again, saying thank you with the kiss for being so caring and gentle with him. 

“You can comfort me by saying I can go back to work soon,” Tommy nods to his hand in the cast.

“Sorry, baby, but the doctor said a month in the cast and then a month of PA,” Buck kisses the pouting man. “I promise you will be ok really quick. You also have a lot of bruises all around your body and had smoke inhalation, but they took you from the oxygen during the night.”

Tommy nods, “could be way worse.”

“Yeah,” Buck swallows, still feeling the cold of the fear of the possibility to lose Tommy forever, “but let’s not challenge the universe, please.”

Tommy smirks but agrees.

“You know, there’s a thing you can actually do for me,” his boyfriend says with a playful smile and Buck nods to him to continue. He is ready to do anything for his boyfriend. “Kiss it better.” 

Buck chuckles on the way Tommy pouts his lips, but leans to him anyway leaving the most tender kiss he can, translating all his love and fear of losing it to his man in it.

He was thinking about saying “I love you” the moment Tommy will wake up, but decided against it. They deserve better than it. Something sweet and tender, not with the aftertaste of pain and fear. So the kiss is a good alternative for now.

-

Two days after the fire Tommy is discharged and Buck takes him to his house, sending his man to rest on the couch while he cleans and cooks and then goes to have dinner with Tommy at the couch, not forgetting to grab the pain pills for the man and water.

“I cooked different meals and froze them. There's food for at least a week. All the instructions about pre-heating are left on the fringe for the moments when I can't be here. But I’ll come after and before my shifts and I spend time with you here on my days off, ” Buck says, while he cleans the dishes. 

Tommy insisted on sitting with him in the kitchen because he missed him while Buck was doing all the chores.

“Or you could just stay here with me without running between my house, loft and station,” Buck turns to Tommy who looks pretty confident, yet Buck sees in his eyes he is scared about Buck’s answer. “Do you want to move in with me?”

Buck puts the last dish on the shelf, wipes his hands with a towel and comes to his boyfriend, falling on his knees to kiss him. 

When they part, they both smile so much, “Yes, yes, I want to move in with you,” Buck kisses him again and then whispers in his lips. “I love you. So much. Wanted to say it on our anniversary after a big romantic dinner, but I don’t want to spend more days without saying it to you. I love you, Tommy.”

Tommy’s huge smile blindes Buck like the sun on the warm summer day.

“I love you too, Evan. So, so much,” they kiss again and Buck can’t wait to spend all his life doing it. 

“When can you move?” Tommy asks after they end the kiss.

“I can pack my most important things the day after tomorrow as it’s my day off and take it all here. Then I’ll talk to my landlord about ending the lease and just pack all other things.”

“Good,” Tommy kisses his birthmark now. “I want you to feel here like home.”

Buck chuckles, “I will feel like home not because my stuff stays here,” he cups Tommy’s face in his hands, “I feel like home with you. No matter where we are.”

“You’re such a sup,” Tommy laughs, kissing his birthmark again. 

“Said the man who made me a playlist of songs he associates with me.” 

Tommy shuts him the same way he did when he kissed him for the first time. Buck can’t be happier his man uses this tactic to shit him any time he wants.

He just can’t imagine himself happier when he's with Tommy. 

[roo-bastmoon]

With 17 versions to buy and 8 versions combined for 160 streams per Spotify account, plus Melon and FLO streams now counting, of course Jungkook’s Seven is charting high and sweeping awards. Firstly because it’s Jungkook of course, and secondly because it’s been given every possible advantage.

My (perhaps controversial) opinions about that are below the cut.

Honestly? I really can’t feel good about any “first” or “most” or “fastest” records achieved by this single—catchy as it is—which wasn’t written or conceived by Jungkook and has nothing much personal or deeply meaningful about it. It’s a fun feel-good summer pop song, for sure, but no more groundbreaking than, say, Bad Decisions (in my opinion… I have no musical expertise.)

But I can’t feel super great about all the records and awards because this many versions immediately restocked and shipped and auto play and promoted to radio and ads and leadership hyping only this while Jungkook says he wants to be the one and only artist to conquer kpop and pop for the next thousand years… it all just doesn’t really sit right with me.

When compared to the 10 months Jimin forewent sleep, food, and showers to have a hand in every aspect of his first (and deeply personal and symbolic) album, which was never sent to radio or restocked, got split tracks and delayed playlisting and shady articles, plus not one kudos or congratulations from leadership even after he made history for South Korea and stocks soared…

Forgive me, but it all leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It is ruining the song for me.

Some things like culled streams and sales are out of the company’s control. But the things I mentioned above were all possible for Jimin’s Hot 100 #1. Even if every Tannie has total say in their projects' sales and marketing, and everyone was on board with only Jungkook getting the Hybe America "red carpet" treatment, I can’t lie and say the stark difference feels fine. It doesn't, and I confess I leave the headphones in every time Seven comes up in the playlists now.

I’m not jealous. If anything, I have a warped sense of pride that Jimin has done so fantastically well despite so many, many obstacles stacked against him. I love to champion an underdog and I’m glad I never need to doubt his success was organic. I actually feel extra admiration for how humble and hardworking he continues to be—no resting on any laurels for the It Boy. I'm so glad he is my ult-bias.

*sigh*

Listen to me.

I know Jungkook and Jimin are both genuinely good people. I know they are sincerely talented and hard working. I know they truly love each other. I know all members are legitimately happy for each others' success.

I know what’s important to me may not be important to them, nor what they want for their careers. And even if I feel their company’s making shitty decisions, I know my place as a fan.

So I trust them. And I simply hang in. I hope lessons were learned for smoother, fairer future releases. Because neglecting assets makes zero business sense, and perceived favoritism can erode the group’s bonds and tear ARMY apart. It is, frankly, just plain stupid.

So I may dislike things about their solo era rollouts and I can't bring myself to sugar-coat it; but I mostly try to keep my negative thoughts to myself and find things I CAN celebrate with other fans on an open timeline.

I never want another Tannie to feel anguished and misunderstood the way Hobi did about JitB’s physicals.

Watching Jungkook’s face here on his London live when he talks about people hating him just haunts me. It guts me. I can't stand it. That kid was going through it and I don't believe he has a malicious bone in his body, so it just really upsets me seeing him like that.

There’s so, so much about this company, this industry, this culture that I just don’t understand. But I trust Park Jimin completely. As long as Park Jimin loves and supports his members, God knows, I will too.

So!! On that note...

We have Jungkook’s birthday to celebrate next week and Taehyung’s album to support the week after that. I’m going to do my best to rest up and gather some good energy for these things!

And of course, we must congratulate our Jimin, who made history again today, and no matter what, will always set the standard. I just know he's cooking up something else for us with all these weeks of silence, and I cannot wait to go BERSERK for it whenever it drops.

I’m not really sure I had a point to this post. It’s just that I have been mulling all this over for a long time, and finally felt well enough to sit up long enough to come online and type up my thoughts.

I guess what I mostly wanted to share with my friends here is that it’s okay to feel really disappointed and even enraged at the way some things play out over the (hopefully life-long) careers of BTS members. Don't let folks gaslight you. Call it like you see it. (Maybe keep sensitive things behind a cut or in the DMs--and of course, please change your mind if you get better insight. In the end, only the Tannies really know what's going on with the Tannies.)

But while I’m still side-eyeing the company so hard right now, I’ve decided to love and support the boys as people and artists. I'm trying to believe the best in everyone. I’m still an OT7 Jikooker.

You don’t have to agree with me, and if you need to unfollow, I understand. But I figured I should just tell you guys (especially the new followers) where I am at with all this.

Love, Roo

[lokis-army-77]

Tattoos and Mischief

Tattoo Artist! Eddie Munson x female reader

Word Count: 4483

The reader goes to get a new tattoo, and when Eddie's needle passes over a particularly sensitive spot shenanigans ensue...

Based on this Tiktok

Warning: Oral sex (female receiving), squirting, fingering, slight pain kink, tattoos, aftercare. This is unsanitary.

Masterlist 

The chime of the bell above my head made me stiffen, anxiety coursing through my body. I was already on edge and the fact that my presence had just been announced to whoever was in the tiny Tattoo parlor made me want to die. I wasn’t scared of getting a tattoo, I’ve had many they just have never required me to practically take my pants off around a super attractive, tatted-up, heavy metal-looking artist. Granted I wouldn’t really have to take my pants off, they were super flowy shorts so that he could get to my hip easily, but it still made me nervous. 

As I stood fumbling with my fingers at the counter up front, I heard Eddie’s loud boots stomping through the building on his way from the back. When his mane of curly brown hair peaked through the curtain leading to his studio space my heart started to flip. He wore an old Iron Maiden shirt which he had cut the sleeves off of to show the full sleeves of tattoos running down his arms and well behind the fabric of the shirt. I imagined he was covered under there as well, with almost no inch of space left with virgin skin. He looked at me with those large eyes which always seemed to be excited whenever I met them and his smile was just beaming. 

“Hey, Princess, back for another one I see.” He greeted me, coming around the counter to give me a big hug. We had become good friends since he had started tattooing me over two years ago, even sometimes hanging out outside of sessions. 

“Oh, you know me, can’t go too long without having a new piece.” 

He pulled away to lean against the counter. “So, You mentioned the other day where you wanted the piece, but never said what.”

I looked up at him through my eyelashes, head hung low, shrugging. “I’m still not too sure, thought I told you to pick.” 

He grinned big, eyes mischievous, “Oh you know better than to let me do what I want.” 

“Come on Eddie, I know you’ll pick out something good.” I urged him and he laughed, shaking his head before heading behind the counter to rummage through a drawer of filed papers. 

“Well,” he slapped down one of the papers in front of me, placing a pen on top. “You know the drill, need you to sign this. And while you do, I’ll go finish up a few details on what I’ve been planning and set up, you know where my chair is, Princess.” Then he sauntered off to the back, leaving me to check off a couple of boxes and sign my name. 

I placed the paper on the desk just behind the counter and continued on my way, heading in the direction Eddie had gone moments earlier, only slightly worried about what he had come up with over the past few days. 

His space was clean, as opposed to the mess that was his home which I had been to several times. It looked like he had just whipped down the black pleather of the chair, still drying smudges of rubbing alcohol shone in the light. I place my army green, canvas, messenger bag on the small chair in the corner then go and take a seat in the big chair designated for me to sit in. My gaze wandered over the new inks placed out on a tray as well as the multiple sizes of sterile tattooing needles then to the heavy metal and playboy posters on the wall, shaking my head I laughed at the half-naked woman staring down at me. 

While the front of the building was relatively quiet, from here, I could hear Eddie's music playing quietly from the radio in the corner. The new Metallica album, which came out only a couple weeks ago, plays from it. I laid my head back on the headrest, trying to calm my breathing. It was hard having a desperate crush on your tattoo artist, especially when you got turned on every time his hands swiped across your skin or pulled and stretched it to be able to do his job, that, coupled with the slight pain kink I had discovered a few years ago were sure to give me a heart attack. 

Eddie came bounding through the open door a few minutes later, stencil in one hand and a coke in the other. “For you m’lady,” he offered the open can to me and I took it greedily, tipping it back and gulping some down, wincing at the sudden sting of the carbonation hitting my throat. 

“Thanks, Eddie. So, what did you come up with?” I tried to peek at the stencil in his hands which looked kinda long.  

“Nothing too complicated, just this.” He turned it around to show me and I gasped. It wasn’t as bad as I was expecting, knowing him it would have been some fire-breathing dragon crawling down my leg, but this, this was amazing. A long wispy, dainty stem with leaves growing out from it and only a hand full of flowers in various stages of bloom, sprouting from the vine. 

“Wow, Eddie, that's actually really beautiful.” I gushed out, reaching to trace my fingers along the lines. 

“I know it's a little longer than you had previously mentioned but I thought it would look better wrapping down your leg.” He shrugged, “I can trim it down, redo a few bits to make it work for just your hip and upper thigh though.” 

“No, no,” I shook my head, “I like it, um, let's stencil it on and see what it looks like and decide from there?” 

He clipped my chin with his finger and nodded, “Smart girl.” He stood over me and I turned on my side, lifting the leg of my shorts as high as they would go, which admittedly was pretty high, without exposing undying private. 

Eddie got to work, taking a new disposable raiser and clearing away any hair I might have missed in preparation for the tattoo. Then he placed the stencil down, tediously making sure it was in the perfect place, snipping the edges so it would lay down nicely along the curves of my body from my hip to ankle. After it was all lined up, he was ready to actually stick the stencil on. I watched as he nodded his head in approval, slowly peeling back the stencil to reveal the image now on my leg. 

“That looks even better than I imagined it would.” he gawked at his own work grazing my skin. “Here,” he offered his hands, pulling me up and guiding me over to the mirror. 

I raised my pant leg up and admired what was there. It was really pretty, the stem didn’t fully wrap around my leg, only viewing off closer to the back of my thigh and calf than the front. The flowers at the top bloomed and drew fairly close to the inside of my thigh and hip. I turned and smiled at Eddie. “I love it so much.” 

“You sure? I can still trim it down if you think it's too much.” 

“I’m super sure Eddie, I think it's wonderful.” 

His hand caught my shoulder, “Then let's get started, Princess.” He tugged me to the chair. I held myself back up into it and let him lean it all the way down so that I was laying flat. My heart bounded in my ears, no matter how many times I put myself through this, it still made me sickly nervous. “Gonna start up here on your hip since it's the most time-consuming part, then we’ll see how you're feeling in a bit and if you wanna keep going, okay?” He pats my hip as he looked me in the eyes. 

“Sounds good to me.” I gave him a short nod before reclining back, taking a deep breath, and closing my eyes. 

“Tiem for the fun part,” I could hear the massive grin in his voice. The sounds of metal and plastic filled my ears as he fiddled with the gun and needles then all of a sudden the buzz of the machine overpowered it all. “I’m going to lift your pant leg up, okay? Hold it in place for me, yeah?” 

I reached my fingers down to hold onto the fabric, keeping it away from the ink and his needle as he began to work. I winced only a little at the surprise but soon it became normal, the slight pain numbing my skin. The feel of Eddie’s rough hands pulling at the soft skin of my hip over the bone and going down dear the apex of my thighs had my stomach flipping and my cunt clenching. I would say I tried to ignore it but it was impossible not to.

My eyes opened to peek at him and I was instantly mesmerized, he had tied his hair back in a very messy bun and the look of pure concentration on his face had me pulsing with delight. His brow was furrowed, tongue sticking out between his plump lips, eyes big and round, taking in his work.

I bit my lip as I looked away, trying to concentrate on the buzzing of the gun and the prick, prick, prick of it across my skin. Eddie was totally blissfully unaware of how horny I was becoming because of him and it was taking everything in my power to keep it that way. My hands were becoming clammy the more he worked, only getting a second of relief when he submerged the needle in fresh ink. 

My lip-biting and wheel power only worked so long until Eddie passed over the bone. The needle passing over the super-sensitive spot had me clenching my thighs very noticeably and a low moan spewing past my lips. I clapped my free hand over my mouth the second it came out. My face already heating up and possibly bright red from embarrassment. 

“Ya good Sweetheart?” Eddie asked, concerned.

“Y-yeah Eddie, I’m- uh, I’m good. Keep going.” I let out a shaky breath, hoping he just thought tI was frazzled by the sudden pain and not because I had enjoyed it. He took his gun away from the bone, deciding to give me a short break. 

“You sure, sounded like it really hurt.” 

“No, no, just surprised me is all.” I looked at him and he stares me down, face unreadable. “Really,” I assured him, “the new feeling just surprised me. Promise it didn’t hurt.” 

“Okay,” He replied reluctantly, “but if it does hurt, tell me to stop.” 

I didn’t answer him as he started back in a different, more fleshy spot towards the inside of my thigh. His hand smoothed over the skin, pulling my leg out a bit so that he could work easier. Now with one straight leg and one bent, I could feel the cool air of the room hitting my hot core. The flowy material lets all the breeze pass by my leaking pussy. Eddie had been tattooing for only ten minutes and I could practically feel my arousal dripping down my ass. I cursed myself, I so should have worn underwear. 

Then, Eddie switched areas again, going right back to the bone. Another low, more drawn-out moan, came from my throat, “Fuck”. My pussy clenched around nothing, sending another wave of arousal down my ass, surely there was a wet spot now covering the chair under me. 

Eddie pulled away again quickly and this time, I whined at the loss of his hands and the pain. My eyes were bulging from their sockets as he stared me down, besides the still buzzing gun, you could practically hear me gulping down the saliva which was accumulating in my mouth before it all went dry. My pussy fluttered at the dark look in His eyes as he began to smirk and without a word went back to the tattoo. 

Shit, he knows. He so fucking knows. Why else would he look at me like that, with those eyes and that smirk? He knows.

My life was over as soon as another moan flew from me without permission as Eddie once again passed over the bone. I turned my head from him too embarrassed to look him in the eye now. I had moved three times and whimpered once when he pulled away. How could I ever face him again? How could I even begin to apologize? 

I was startled when he spoke, voice raspy and rough, totally unlike how he sounded mear minutes ago. “You liked that didn’t you, Princess?” That nickname once a term of endearment now sounded patronizing. 

I didn’t answer. 

“Come on, Princess, answer me.” He switched the machine off. Without the noise I could hear my heart beating out of my chest, blood flowing a mile a minute. 

I shook my head, too humiliated to answer aloud. 

“Oh, I think you did. Why else would you be avoiding my eyes?” The sound of his latex gloves coming off made me hesitantly spare a glance his way. “Bet if pulled these down, you'd be soaking wet, huh?” 

I shook my head again even though I knew it was true, even now as he was talking so condescendingly to me, my cunt pulsed, wanting nothing more than for him to touch, to play. 

“Are you lying to me? I think you want me to make you feel good, that's what you want, baby?” his fingers trail over mine, taking the leg of my shorts away from me. 

I nodded my head warily. 

“Huh? What was that Princess, I couldn’t hear you?” 

“Yes,” My voice was scratchy as it came out in a whisper. 

“Still can't hear you, you’re gonna have to speak up.”

“Yes, Eddie!” I practically yelled at him, too needy to be talked to like a child. I wanted him now and I didn’t care if that was somehow crossing a line or if it ruined any semblance of a friendship we had.

“Why don’t we take these off then?” Eddie waited for my go-ahead before he took my shorts off, careful not to let them touch the fresh tattoo. “Wow, would ya look at that? No panties, were you planning for this to happen, Sweetheart?”

“N-no, I just thought they would get in the way of you working,” I admitted to him, snapping my legs closed in self-consciousness. 

“Ah ah ah, don’t close those legs, wanna see your pretty little pussy.” He gently pried my legs apart, lifting them so that they bent at the knee and my feet were planted on the chair. 

“Fuck, would’ya looks at that,” he breathed, one hand racking back the stray hairs falling into his eyes. “So fucking wet for me Baby, you practically soaked the chair.” He helped to move my body, shimmying me into a better position, where he was now directly between my legs. 

“Eddie, please.” I whimper, head thrown back. I needed him to touch me after he could look as much as he wanted. 

“What?” he asked softly, smirking at me. 

“Touch me.” I clenched once again around nothing and heard Eddie chuckle. 

“As you wish.” With that, he slowly trailed his hands down the backs of my thighs, thumbs going directly for my lips and spreading them out with ease. “Mmm, you look absolutely delicious.” 

He continued to rub his thumps gently up and down my lips, spreading the accumulated wetness around but never touching where I needed it most. Soft moans came forth freely now, I didn’t try to hide them, and sighs of discontent followed every time he would skirt past my clit. 

“Look how needy she is already,” he cooed. I shivered under his intense gaze, hole quivering with want. “I could fucking eat you up.” He licked his lips as he started to lean in, mouth descending on my cunt.

“Oh fuck!” I cried feeling the intense heat of his mouth covering my entrance. His tongue lapped around my hole, tasting the juices that had been produced. His nose nudged against my clit, giving it some much-needed touch. 

His hand, closest to my non-tattooed leg, tugged it away from where it was propped up, pulling it out to open me up farther. His other hand stayed, holding my pussy lips apart, but not for long. My hips started to sputter upwards, no longer satisfied with his nose just barely nudging against my clit. Eddie moved that hand up past his head and laid the whole arm across my hips, holding them down. 

He hummed into my cunt before pulling back. “Don’t be greedy, Princess. Take what you’re given and then maybe you’ll be rewarded.” 

“But Eddie-,” my complaint was stopped short by him going back to lapping around my hole but never delving in. 

“Please,” I begged him, hips fighting against his hold. 

He shook his head. “Fine,” he huffed, “only because you asked so nicely.” He let his tongue delve into me, gathering my juices into his mouth and swallowing. He moaned a the taste and I whimpered as his wet muscle pushed its way from my entrance all the way up to my clit. A sharp, stomach-dropping pleasure extended from that sensitive spot to the tips of my toes and fingers, causing my back to arch and my eyes to roll back in my head. 

“Ah! Eddie!” My hands flew to his hair, holding him in place over my clit. He wasn’t being pretty about it, slobber and spit and arousal coated the lower half of his face as he ate me out like a man starved, shaking his head every so often like he was trying to nuzzle deeper into my pussy. 

Eddie responded with short moans as he began to suckle at my sensitive nub. The feeling was so all-encompassing I felt like I was flying with no way back down to earth. My cunt was throbbing, avid in its hunger to be filled. My hips still bucked slightly under him, craving more. 

“More. More Eddie, need more.” My hands pushed him harder into my wanting cunt. I could feel him chuckling against me before the fingers which held my leg out were now closing in on my pussy, circling around my tight hole. 

Without warning he stuffed his middle finger inside, the feeling of him being devoured by me had soft whines leaving my slightly open mouth. He prodded me, flicking his finger up into the spongy walls of my core eliciting shuddering reactions from me.

My body was keening into him, taking everything that he gave even if it wasn’t enough. Eddie popped off my clit a string of spit still connecting him to me as he made eye contact. 

“Fuck, you are so beautiful, you know that? Fucking beautiful and you taste divine.” His words had my stomach flipping. His hand slithered up from its place on my hip, under my shirt, and stopped over my bra. Tugging the flimsy fabric of the cups away one at a time and shoving it farther up my chest. 

I arched my back, pushing my aching breasts into his warm hands. He didn't have his rings on like he usually did, as they all wouldn’t fit under the gloves when he tattooed. I could feel the cold bite of metal flittering over my hardened nipples and I whined at the thought of it. Eddie pinched my right nipple between his thumb and middle finger, rolling it as he did so. 

“Yes, yes, do that again.” My breathing hitched in my throat as he pinched and tugged slightly harder on my breast. I gasped at the feeling, a warmth exploding in my abdomen. My cunt clenched around his finger as it moved within me at a monotonous pace. 

Such a cranial, frustrated moan flowed past my lips. My pussy gripped down harder on Eddie’s finger and my eyes shut tight. I needed more from him, more fingers, more touching, more everything. I needed to be overloaded with his presence around me. 

“Shit,” I pulled his hair hard, “need more.” 

“Hum?” 

“More, I need more, Eddie!” I cried into the hand I brought up to whip away the sudden tears of frustration and pleasure which fell down my cheeks. 

“More what?” He grinned up from my pussy, eyes terrifyingly dark as they bore into mine. 

My heart hammered against my chest. He looked so fucking hot looking up at me like that, it made my cunt flutter around him.

“Fuck me with your fingers, need more fingers.” I closed my eyes again as he took his finger out, bucking my hips up to follow him. 

“Look at me Princess.” he cooed.  I shook my head, not knowing if I could take his intense stare again. “Look at me.” His commanded, voice biting. 

I opened my eyes slowly and looked at him. He smirked. 

“Such a good girl.” He praised me as he placed his ring and middle fingers at my entrance, pushing in slowly. I mewled at the stretch, eyes still making eye contact. 

“Fuck, feels so good,” I mumbled, mind fogging over little by little. 

Eddie broke away from my eyes, looking down at the puffy lips of my pussy then he spat directly onto the folds. I groaned at the mouth-watering sight. He delved straight in after that, pushing his saliva around, stopping to suck harshly on my clit again. 

I couldn’t keep myself quiet and I definitely couldn’t keep still. The ache in my stomach started to grow the more Eddie ate at my pussy and fingered up into the places my own could never reach.  My teeth clenched at the almost overwhelming emotions and feelings coursing through me. My hand stayed latched in his hair while the other tried to cover up the moans that turned to blissed-out screams. 

He pulled away from my clit, mouth sliding over the inside of my thighs, stopping to suck and nip at them, creating love bites wherever there was a free expanse of skin. Eddie started to move his fingers faster as well, chuckling as my walls spasmed around him practically begging for more. 

There was a rush of heat through my body, skin becoming clammy, muscles contracting, and stiffening. 

“Good- ah! Fuck! Gonna cum!” I wailed out, back arching as Eddie fucked his fingers faster and deeper into me. “Gonna cum, gunna cum, gunna cum!” I said those two words over and over again like a mantra as blissful tears just kept poling in my eyes. Eddie was blurry in my sight because of it. 

“Cum for me, Princess, let go.” He coaxed my orgasm from me with gentle words and deft fingers. 

He kissed my clit with his soft lips and the barely their touches had me arching into him sobbing his name. My legs clamped around his head and my hand finally let go of his hair. My orgasm had me shaking in the chair, juices spewing out of me into eddies mouth and onto his shirt. I hadn’t a care in the world that I was making a huge mess of his studio.

“Fuck,” My chest heaved up and down as I came back to reality, my heart pumping like I had just run a mile. My body relaxed into the chair and Eddie pulled his mouth and fingers away from my now sensitive cunt and breast. 

“Did so good.” Eddie grinned from ear to ear as he stood up. He took the dry part of the bottom of his shirt and whipped down his drenched face. “Come on now, need to get you cleaned up.” 

He reached his arms under mine, my body so pliant and limp that he had to use all his strength to lift me up and to my feet. I felt gross as the liquids which came out of me trickled down my legs and onto the floor, but I was too fucked out to even care or be embraced. He carefully tugged my bra back into its original place and situated my shirt back down as well.

Eddie led me over to the sink in the corner of the room and leaned me up against the counter before quickly dampening a cloth from the cabinet and whipping every inch of my skin down, save for the tattooed part. 

“Hey, look at me.” He spoke softly, taking my chin between his fingers and tilting me to look at him. My tears had fallen and no longer obstructed my vision, yet there was still a post-sex haziness. “You with me? You good?” 

I nodded tiredly. “Yeah, m’good. More than good,” I gushed at him. 

“Then let's get your tattoo cleaned up and wrapped.” He got to work hastily, dousing the art in a cleaning solution and patting it dry before wrapping it up to keep it safe from infection. 

“Eddie?” I asked, eyes heavy and head lulling to the side. 

“Hum?” 

“Where are my pants?” My legs were cold and standing half-naked in a tattoo parlor was not helping. 

“Oh, uh,” I could tell he was searching the room by his pause. “Ah! Here they are.” He slid his hands down my legs, tapping my left foot to let me know to step up. He helped me dress and then sat me in the chair I had originally placed my bag in earlier. “Stay right here.”

I nodded, laying my head in my hands, practically falling asleep as he walked off. He came back a moment later, hands tapping my cheeks gently. My eyes fluttered open and I smiled at him, he smiled back. 

“Here, head back.” I did as instructed, mouth opening slightly. He brought a water bottle to my lips and helped me to drink. I hadn't realized how dry my throat was until the water began to coat it. 

“Thank you,” I mumbled. 

“Any time, Princess, any time.” 

“I don't think-,” I was interrupted by a yawn. “I don’t think I can drive myself home.” My legs felt like jelly as well as my arms and I was only moments away from falling asleep sitting up. 

“I can bring you back to my place, was gonna close up shop after our session was done anyway. Just hang tight for a few more minutes while I clean up our mess, okay?” 

“Okay.” I closed my eyes again and sighed into him as he squeezed my knee, standing to his feet, and kissed my forehead. 

I didn’t know what this was or what would happen to our friendship when I inevitably came back to earth but Something was gonna have to change and I so hoped it would be for the better. I definitely want to experience that again.

@lightcommastix @msgexymunson @took-me-hours-to-steal-those

[hype-blue-fixation]

Alastor's Family Headcannons/Breakdown + Predictions

These have been plaguing me for a while and I've done way too much history research

Family Life

Based on what Viv has said, Al is an only child and his race doesn't play into his story. Therefore, I think that the majority of his story and trauma are related to his family, WW1, the Great Depression, and just being mistreated by others in power. I have a whole thing about the war, guilt, radios (oh my!) but I will save those for another post.

The roaring 20's were an interesting time, because most Americans enjoyed a high quality of life and then were lined up at soup kitchens in the span of a decade. Al's family was probably no different. He knows what it's like to live with affluence, and he knows what it's like to beg for food. Especially if he was too young for the army draft, he would've been able to be by his mom's side at her richest and poorest. See life through the female perspective, in a time where women had been seen as a commodity for men and just now proving their worth as a valuable part of the workforce. This is why he's far more sympathetic toward women but doesn't give men ANY excuses.

Father Relationship

This is the one I'm really excited to talk about lol. So while American men of the time did legitimately love their wives, there was also this entitlement attitude. If you're a good fella, you deserve a good woman. Toxic masculinity ran rampant, leading to a lot of emotionally challenged men. Their self-worth was tied to how well they could provide for their families. I personally think that Al's dad suffered with some kind of anger disorder and probably some generational trauma. But, being a product of his time, he internalized all this stress instead of facing it, especially when times got hard and he couldn't do all the things a man ought to do. So while he did legitimately love his family and want to be a good husband, it manifested in verbal abuse, exerting control over his family, and sometimes even physical abuse. Because of this, Alastor has a natural mistrust/hate for any man who exerts control over others, while ironically becoming this type of man himself. He just wants to think he's better than that. It can also explain why Al is so amused by the concept of redemption. He saw his own dad, who legitimately wanted to be a better man, constantly try and fail. His dad was a product of his place and time, and no amount of "wanting to be better" was good enough. Add in the factor of war: Al's dad had this positive "I'll be home before Christmas" attitude and everything would be alright. And then crap hit the fan, worse became worst, and whatever effort Al's dad was making before was just non-existent. Completely and totally consumed by anger and hatred, and his family taking the brunt of it. Alastor's very first murder came shortly after.

Predictions

Here's some predictions for how Alastor's dad can be handled in the show, and I'm honestly down for any of them being cannon.

Alastor being responsible for both of his dad's deaths. They meet up in Hell during an extermination. His dad would be begging for forgiveness and second chances, but Al cold-heartedly shoves him out and watches him get stabbed.

Dad becomes an overlord, but never shows up to any of the meetings because he doesn't want to confront his son. At some point he decides to give redemption one last try at the hotel, but Al gives him absolute HELL the entire way and refuses to forgive him.

While he didn't make the best decisions, Al's dad truly did want redemption and to do the right thing. This was enough to get him into Heaven, and Alastor finds out about this at some point and CAN NOT process HOW his father got into Heaven, or how he's responsible for sending him there. Bro can't cope.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

SFW Alphabet—Donny Donowitz | IB headcanon

Link to my IB masterlist

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Affection is Donny’s weakness. Whether it be giving or receiving he is always wanting to touch you in some way. This could be his arm around your shoulders while Aldo is debriefing the squad, your head on his shoulder by the campfire, or light kisses to the forehead before a stressful situation.

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Being friends with Donny is basically signing up for chaos. He’s the type who would suggest doing stupid shit and you have to follow in order to ensure he doesn’t kill himself doing it. Laughing to the point of ab cramps is the best way to describe moments with Donny as your bestie.

The friendship started before you two shipped off to France. You were probably the squad’s nurse or high ranking next to him and Aldo that you guys interacted more than with the Basterds. The friendship sorta naturally happened to the point it’s hard to even put a date on when it started.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Physical touch is the mans love language so of course he likes to cuddle. Holding you in his arms with the radio playing while you two doze in and out of sleep is the best feeling in the world. “Doll,” he’ll make grabby hands at you, “c’mere let me hold ya.” He’s the big spoon obviously, but also he likes when he’s laying on his back and you’re curled into his side.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Hell yeah Donny wants to settle down—the literal dream for him is to own a home with you in a nice area where you two get to grow old together. You two would likely run the barber shop or another business and be the couple who give back to the community.

Donny, surprisingly, is a descent cook. Really he specializes in certain dishes that are family recipes. And best believe he can stir up some smacking pasta. You never have to worry about a messy home or kitchen because the Army embedded it into his brain that orderliness and cleanliness is essential…..except on Sundays. That’s y’all’s break day.

E = Ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’d rather scalp himself than end things with you. If anyone is gonna break hearts, Donny will sacrifice his own to prevent you from experiencing it.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Being a bachelor was honestly what Donny expected he’d be all his life. Yeah he dated and had flings but never did it occur to him he’d want to settle down and build a future with someone. When you came along it was like he had an awakening. Immediately he saw the house with a yard full of animals, kids running around the premises and a ring on his finger. After you two got engaged Donny wasn’t quick to rush a wedding especially since you two had just returned to the states. He wanted to work as much as he could to give you the wedding of your dreams.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Despite being a giant beefy man that he is, Donny is very gentle. His touch is like feathers and always carefully handled as to not hurt you. Anytime you’re sad or distress his approach with you is cautious. Asking questions like, “Do you need to talk or want to be alone?” Whatever you decide he’ll respect even if it means walking away to give you space.

H = Hugs (do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Are you kidding this man lives and breathes for hugs. He gives the best hugs of the Basterd (Wicki coming a close second) so you take any chance you can to hug him. Donny won’t even hesitate when you ask for one or he’ll simply bring you into an embrace he notices you’re under distress.

I = I love you (how fast do they say the L-word?)

Considering he realized he loved you in the middle of a legit war, Donny probably said it quick. And by quick I mean right when it hit him like a truck. You two had been best friends by that point to he was worried to an extent it would crumble before his eyes. But to his utter surprise you said, “Oh, Donny, are you blind? I’ve been waiting for you to say something forever! I love you too, you rascal.”

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Okay so while he hardly gets jealous when the Basterds or his friends playfully flirt with you, he WILL become a different person when someone he hates tries to swoon you. Of course he’s confident in y’all’s relationship and knows you’d never betray him, he just fucking hates when an asshole attempts to get your attention. “Jealous again, baby?” “NO……maybe.”

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Kisses with Donny are best described as ‘cheeky’. He’ll send you a smirk with eyes reading, ‘Imma kiss you right now,’ before smacking his lips against yours or your cheek before running away. You can’t help but giggle when he does because it’s so adorable and always puts a smile on your face. Your lips and jaw are his favorite places to kiss, however, when he’s feeling frisky Donny will trail his mouth down your neck and collarbones. For him, the Sargent loves to be kissed on the lips as well. He’ll never admit it but Donny is a sucker for when you kiss his chest.

L = Little ones (how are they around children?)

Donny is amazing with children. It’s one of the things you love about him. Even if you two do not plan to have children he loves to spend time with nieces/nephews and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s the type to teach the kids in your neighborhood how to play baseball. He’d also offer discount and free haircuts to the children and teens who cannot afford one. If you do have/adopt kids, then expect Donny to be the best father ever. Always attending their school functions and sport games (most likely baseball) and taking your kids to the zoo, museum, Red Sox games, etc. He is their #1 supporter and will do whatever possible to make them happy.

M = Morning (how are mornings spent with them?)

During the war y’all’s mornings started bright and early at the ass crack of dawn. Donny would be the first one up considering he was in charge of getting the Basterds into formation, but he’d make sure to give you a kiss on the head as a good morning before leaving. When there is the rare chance of staying in an inn or motel then he’s all over you with cuddles and waking you up with kisses.

Back home in the states Donny is the type who will put the coffee on the pot as soon as he wakes up to get you a coffee before your eyes open. Then if he has time he’ll run to the cafe by the corner of your street to get your favorite breakfast. “Is that what I think it is?” “Only the best for my baby this fine Sunday morning.”

N = Night (how are nights spent with them?)

I can see Donny as a night owl. Really it was a result of the late nights overseas where he had to keep watch of the camp. The habit carried over when he returned home in which he would stay up listening to the radio or reading a book. You’d have to force him to come to bed—-often making him a warm cup of milk or run a bath. But once his head hit the pillow mans is out like a light and holding you to his chest.

[misscammiedawn]

Back to the Future, Brainwashing and Mr. Robot

Our little journey into rewatching Mr. Robot with our girlfriend continues and we ended Season 2 last night and got to the point of Angela's interview with Whiterose.

See, Season 2 Episode 11 asks a question that the show has asked a number of times "How do you hack a human being?" but this time applies it to Angela and Darlene. Elliot's two most trusted humans. His sister and his love interest.

Is it possible for the FBI and Whiterose respectively to get them to betray Elliot?

Well, Elliot said it himself in season 1

"People always make the best exploits. I've never found it hard to hack most people. If you listen to them, watch them, their vulnerabilities are like a neon sign screwed into their heads."

Darlene even monologued about hers in the previous episode. All she needs is to feel special and you can exploit her.

But Whiterose does not exploit people like Elliot does. She owns them.

Let's talk about how she brainwashed Angela.

Before I begin I want to just mention that I am a hypnokink blog but there is a world of difference between consensual hypnosis play (I write a lot on the topic) and literal brainwashing.

My post/analysis is through a lens of muted horror because I know the tactics being employed and I want to break down the scene from the perspective of someone who reads the theory. I do not in any way shape or form endorse the methods being played out on screen.

I do know members of my community who would very much enjoy recreating elements of this scene in their play but it would be in a risk aware and negotiated manner. Full love and respect to y'all, I am not yucking on your yum. The difference is fantasy vs reality and consent vs coercion.

I know I shouldn't need to write that but I'm a hypnokink blog and this may reach fandom spaces and I want to make it clear that this sequence depicts psychological torture and it is not the same thing as my hobby.

---

At the start of the episode Angela is in the back of a van being driven by two Dark Army agents.

The plot of the show is instigated by a leak at a nuclear facility that claimed the life of Elliot's father and Angela's mother. Much of the narrative is the pair of them on their relentless individual crusades to destroy the company that allowed this to happen, covered it up and took no accountability for the disaster. In fact E(vil) Corp knew the radiation levels were unsafe and hid that fact, allowing Mr. Alderson and Mrs. Moss to perish.

What's worse is Angela has evidence that the levels are still unsafe to this day and the company knows about it. She is about to whistleblow and that attracts the attention of the big bad of the series, Whiterose.

We do not yet know the connections but we do know that Whiterose refers to the facility as "my plant". It is clearly important to her. Enough that threats to the plant are motive to kill.

But they didn't kill Angela for her attempt at whistleblowing. They recruit her. A good idea, all things considered, as she is Elliot's exploit.

It is night time when Angela is taken and daytime when she arrives at her destination. During the ride she is kept in the back of the van while the two riders stare on ahead. Angela pleads with them, screams, tries every trick she can to get their attention and they refuse to acknowledge her.

All the while a song plays on the radio.

In universe we know that Back to the Future is Angela's favorite movie. It's come up a lot and much as Darlene's need to feel special was directly referenced in the prior episode, Angela's love of BttF was mentioned when she refers to a tender moment in season 1 when she wanted to get high and watch Back to the Future 2 with Elliot.

The show takes place in 2015 by the way. That becomes plot relevant later but at this moment it's just a lovely coincidence.

When Angela has run through her options her captors pump the volume on Marvin Berry & The Starlights.

Later in the episode we cut to Angela waking from a sleep. It is daylight now and there is still music playing on the radio...

I was watching the show with my girlfriend, @soveryverytired and she is as big a BttF fan as Angela and she recognized this instantly. These musical stings are diegetic and so they are for Angela but let's not forget that we the audience are a character in this show. Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence.

Angela is released from the van and guided into a house which seems to have been tailor made to mess with her. The brainwashing began the moment she was picked up but this is when the audience gets to share in some of Angela's emotional state.

The hallway she is guided down is full of family photos with the faces inked out.

Itself a reference to the artwork of John Baldessari.

In the portraits Angela sees she is given the idea of family and the image of a family home. A place which exists in memory for Angela as she may have been raised in Jersey but she's a New York girl now who lives in modern chic apartments.

The portraits have their features removed as a stand-in for an idea. Family. Comfort. Safety. Home. Just ideas right now of course, but it also evokes alienation. There is nothing for her to latch onto. Her captors refuse to look at her.

(Incidentally I am uncertain of why they picked the people who caught Angela. Neither of them look like Dark Army agents and they do not radiate nostalgia or identity in any meaningful form. They are disparate and just appear to be people who caught Angela. I cannot place anything on them)

Angela has been isolated and kept for an elongated period of time in transit. She does not even have the comfort of human faces to latch onto.

Which makes her entrance into the brainwashing room all the more startling.

Blue, Green and Red in stark contrast with White and Black. The room is barren of features spare for the objects that are intentionally placed there for her. A Commodore 64 computer, a red phone, a copy of the book Lolita.

There's also a copy "Hang in there" poster. Angela likes motivational posters and listens to confidence tapes a lot.

As I mentioned in my previous Mr. Robot analysis, Esmail really enjoys giving us parts of the code to go back and try and look at things again with context. In that analysis I spoke of how Whiterose detected Dom's sexuality from a single sentence. Here we have a more direct decryption.

Eliott comes into a room much like this later in the show and instantly identifies the pieces placed out for him and what their significance are. These are objects from Angela's childhood home. Whether directly the same ones or replicas created from Whiterose digging on Angela's life is unknown. But there's always the implication...

Between every phase of Angela's ordeal she is given a well of time to stew in her situation and remove all distractions. She tries the door and discovers it is locked. She is given time to understand and accept her circumstance. She stops struggling in the van and lets the BttF soundtrack lull her to sleep. She stops trying to escape the room and sits in the chair.

Every step of the process thus far has been to isolate her and allow time to guide her into compliance. Whiterose likes using time as a weapon after all... it's her obsession.

Then the interview begins and we are introduced to Angela's interviewer.

A young caucasian girl in a suit with blonde hair in a high pony tail. A child version of Angela.

We don't know this yet but in Season 3 there will be a flashback of a 9 year old Angela watching Back to the Future while her mother is dying. Both the interviewer (credited as "Girl") and 9-year old Angela are played by the same actress, Mabel Tyler.

The implication goes beyond her just being dressed to look like Angela did at that age. Whiterose found someone who looks exactly like she did.

Angela's stint of social isolation has finally been given reprieve with the dignity of a human face, even if it is her own (but that's impossible, right?) and she, bewildered and confused, asks for answers. "Who are you?"

The response is "There's water coming out of that fish tank. We don't have much time. Let's begin."

No urgency. No emotion. Just matter of fact.

Time, which was once drawn to unbearable stretches of isolation has now been flipped on its head and suddenly Angela is not allowed time to process anything. She is instantly asked a number of questions.

"Have you ever cried during sex?" - "Have you ever fantasized about killing your father?" - "Are you a giraffe or a seagull?"

Any attempt Angela makes to talk with the child results in the question being asked again. (The sequence makes direct references to text adventure games also, showing that Angela has no control in this situation, the prompts will continue repeating until she gives the desired answer)

After a number of failed attempts the phone will ring and the girl will get instructions to force the test to proceed. The first time she displays heavy bruising on her back and tells Angela she will be beaten if she does not complete the test.

The fish will die if she does not answer fast. The girl will be punished if she does not finish the test.

Empathy is being used against her. A time limit and the girl constantly forcing her to engage with the question prevent her processing.

So now should be a time to mention the real world mind control techniques on display here. They're brought up in movies a lot. For a simple and harmless version of it you need to look at the Baseline Test from Bladerunner 2049 and for a disturbing but all too realistic version of it you need to look at The Master.

Massive warning on the scene from The Master as it contains exceptionally dark content.

There are a number of factors at play and I feel even with as much as I've read there are others in my community who could break this down better than me.

The obvious ones are empathy and stress being put at play. Angela is being forced to capitulate via sheer aggressive coercion. If she does not obey the child will be punished, if she does not beat the time limit then a fish will perish. The captors would be punishing the girl and killing the fish but they have framed it in a way that she is volunteering responsibility. A simple and insidious manipulation that is all too common. How often are we informed that our not showing up to work will make things harder for our coworkers? The world is rife with people forcing us to take on empathetic responsibility for those around us despite the fact that the pain inflicted upon them is only our fault in that we allow others to force us to be at fault. Life is full of little trolley problems like that. After all... can Angela really ignore the fact that this child copy of herself will be hurt if she does not comply?

Then you have the more psychological ones. Fractionation is a term we in the hypnosis community use a lot. Within hypnosis it means to go in and out of hypnotic state often enough to maximize the impact of the altered state. Long story short, bringing someone down into a hypnotic state and then up again and then down again and then up and then down enough causes someone to become more susceptible, altered and heady.

It's fun!

Emotional Fractionation is a NLP technique that is so colonized by pick-up artists that I literally couldn't find a definition of it from a google search which wasn't buried in misogynistic dogma. The concept is simple. Put someone into several extreme emotional states of varying tempo to "prime" them. A person is more susceptible and emotionally malleable when they have been through a series of these quick short bursts.

"Have you ever cried during sex?" and "Have you fantasized about murdering your father?" are both examples of invasive questions that conjure extreme emotions of shame and disgust paired with topics of sexuality and violence which are typically taboo topics, especially when coming from a child's mouth. They are things that people would not casually answer. There is guard to them. The test is forcing Angela to answer questions which no person would give an unguarded answer to and doing so in a pressurized window where she cannot fully process the questions or continue to deny answering them.

The Master clip does something a lot more grounded with its blink test. Every time Joaquin Phoenix's character blinks the test starts again. He is forced to answer the same questions over and over. With that test his emotionally guarded replies are single word answers and denials. As the test deprives him and emotionally wears him down he begins giving honest answers. It's... not enjoyable to watch.

The interesting thing about Angela's questions is the Giraffe/Seagull question is how baffling it is.

Two emotionally volatile questions in a row and then a non-sequitur about animals. Emotional whiplash. But it serves a purpose. Flatten the landscape. Remove expectation. Interrupt an emerging. Allow answers to become automatic.

In hypnosis this kind of pattern plays with call and response to train a hypnotee to fall into a pattern of reactions that we guide. There's even a method of interrupting the pattern and creating a breakdown in critical thinking that allows us to communicate directly with the subconscious mind. That's not really at play here but I can't notice a pattern interrupt in emotional fractionation tactics without typing "transderivational search", it's a compulsion in me.

Anyway...

We cut away and next time we return the fish only has a third of the tank left.

"Are you red or purple?" and Angela, sat down and exhausted, simply answers "Purple"

As before exposure and time has caused her to just accept what is happening to her. She's going along with the process now and not trying to reason with her predicament. It's easier just to answer.

But as every other time Angela has become comfortable in her ordeal, a curveball appears.

"Is the key in the room?"

Every question until now, including during the implied time that the fish tank has been emptying, was a personality question. Personal and invasive or banal and trivial. Either way this provides another case of emotional whiplash. Angela is baffled and becomes frustrated. Her emotional resilience has been whittled into non-existence at this point, she cannot help but yell in frustration.

The phone goes again and this time Girl hands Angela the phone. A digitized voice says:

"You are standing in a dark room and can't see anything. There is a torch and a match. What do you do?"

The idea of a text based adventure is already on mind but now Angela is being trained to think how her captors want her to think. She obeys as she has been primed to do and says she lights the torch. No resistance. No confusion. No attempting to get the voice on the phone to identify themselves or answer to her predicament. She is given a prompt from a text based adventure and she follows the prompt.

Every other exploit in the show used the computer analogy as a metaphor for human behavior. Now we are seeing a human being programmed to run on simple prompts.

The voice continues this text based adventure until she reaches a door. She tries to open it but the door will not open. Much as the start of the test the voice keeps repeating prompts. Not deviating. Angela, frustrated begins yelling that she doesn't fucking know but the voice keeps saying "the knob doesn't turn, how do you open it?" until she breaks down and says that she uses a key. She opens the door with a fucking key.

The girl repeats her question.

"Is the key in the room?"

Angela looks at the copy of Lolita on the desk. The artwork depicting a closed fist.

She understands now and in an emotionally distant voice speaks, referencing a quote from the book "Yes. The key was in my fist. My fist was in my pocket."

The Lolita connection actually spans the entire show and this Reddit post does a better job explaining than I could.

The fact that both this show and the book are pastiches (one of modern cinema and the other of literary genres) is relevant though. Don't forget. The Back to the Future references are in universe and targeted specifically at Angela.

The interview concludes and Angela is left to wait a further 4 hours in the room. The fish dies. She's emotionally exhausted. She's no closer to understanding what is happening or what will happen to her. Then the big bad of the entire show, Whiterose, enters the scene.

Whiterose herself allots 28 minutes to their conversation. Which if you know her is remarkably generous.

The conversation is dense.

It starts with Whiterose following the format of the previous interview by noting the lack of time and saying they need to begin before playing some quick and easy mindgames. Insisting her time is more important than Angela's and simply shrugs off her request to leave with "No you wouldn't", she's already invested this much time (against her will or otherwise) and she's going to stick around for the rest.

Angela sits.

Whiterose then berates her lack of agency in attempting to do anything with the door. That she had simply remained in the room without attempting to change or alter her situation.

Angela says that the door was locked. That it was impossible for her to leave.

But Whiterose is training her how to think. She was presented a locked door in her interview and she manifested the key.

Angela, now faced with an actual human being who will converse with her, instantly attempts to claim some leverage in the conversation by accusing Whiterose of murdering the fish (she is not shaken) and hurting the girl.

Whiterose tells her it was make-up and that the child was not hurt at all. That her empathy was part of the test.

This is a subtle one but I want to highlight it. Whiterose killed the fish. The fish is dead. But she ignores that criticism and focuses on the child and tells Angela that it was make-up and the child was not hurt.

It's a brilliant bit of emotional manipulation because Angela has come at her with two immoral and disgusting acts and Whiterose ignored one and excused the other. The deflection throws Angela off her guard because her assumption was that Whiterose was torturing a child and now that's not true. That revelation (which is unconfirmed, mind you, we only have Whiterose's word) erases the accusation. Suddenly Angela is made to abandon her accusation despite the fact that this woman did force that child to conduct the psychological torture, that she kidnapped Angela from the subway and that the fish is dead and Angela can still see it.

Whiterose then gives a mild exposition dump about Angela's prevalence in the plot and the fact that her plot armor has kept her safe when by all estimations she should have been killed the very moment her actions threatened Whiterose's investment in the Washington Township Plant.

She then gives yet another emotional sideswipe to Angela by saying that she is important to Phillip Price (the head of E(vil) Corp) and Elliot Alderson. This serves to make her feel Whiterose knows everything about her because this unknown individual has intimate details about her childhood, her current life and her attachment to Elliot and the crime he committed on 5/9.

Plus after making Angela seem so important for the fact she keeps turning up in Whiterose's plans, she instantly puts her position as an attachment to Price and Alderson. Preventing Angela from even feeling as more than an accessory while giving her a taste of being important.

She then goes on to explain Angela's mother and Elliot's father died for her schemes and that both Angela and Elliot owe their current lives to that fact. After riling her up by insulting her mother's death and claiming personal responsibility for it she says she has no intention of killing Angela but she cannot be allowed to continue jeopardizing her plans.

Angela is broken by this point. Tears burning her eyes she finally says she will give Whiterose what she wants. Destroy the evidence. She submits.

But that's not what Whiterose wants. Elliot and F Society use fear and coercion to control people. Whiterose does not want Angela's fear.

She then asks if Angela has ever believed in something so hard that she could manifest it into being through sheer will.

Much like the key from the test.

Angela admits she used to but she is admitting that reality does not allow for such optimism. Whiterose asks her what "real" even is.

...and that's the sequence.

Next time we see her she is being driven by a Dark Army car to her lawyer's house to drop the case. It's night time and presumably she went straight from Whiterose's. She's been in captivity for over 24 hours at this point.

and she not only complies with Whiterose's request, she does so with zeal and a mildly disconcerting affect.

She's 100% a believer now.

...but of what?

Can you guess?

What do you think Whiterose convinced her of? Made her a believer of?

I think you know. She spent the entire episode priming Angela for it. We saw it. We were there.

Does that mean we were primed too?

So even if Angela's brainwashing is complete. We still have the audience to think of, we're a character in the show, we sit atop the forth wall, not behind it. Don't you want to be included in the brainwashing too?

The episode continues on without Angela, progressing the A-plot with Elliot and Mr. Robot. We also get Sam Esmail teaching the audience how to decode the cypher in the novel that covers Elliot's time in prison.

As the episode comes to an end and Elliot and Tyrell are reunited we get we hear this music in the background. This time it's not diegetic. It's the show's soundtrack.

Three times is a pattern.

As the credits roll and we get a tease of Silvestri's original score for the film. That is present in the track, you can hear it in the above YouTube clip. But the song itself, Earth Angel, is diegetic in the film and yet the final few moments of the song are part of the film's soundtrack. An outright confirmation for anyone watching that we are hearing Back to the Future right now.

See... Angela heard those songs in the van but only we heard the third, final and most crucial one.

Mr. Robot is a grounded show. Up until now everything has been remarkably realistic with all of the hacking based on real techniques and even the psychology of Elliot's delusions and his DID are associated with reality (sidenote: though like most media they happily pair schizophrenia and DID as a single condition which they are not. A successful DID diagnosis typically excludes the possibility of schizophrenia. To point Elliot should not be able to see or literally hear Mr. Robot. Those with DID are aware the voices originate within their head and any visualization of the alters is typically within and requires practiced/guided visualization in a therapeutic setting to accomplish)...

Yet...

The idea that Whiterose's plan involves time travel has entered your mind hasn't it?

Like a little seed. A virus that you can't quite delete from your mental operating system.

Every bit of evidence in this show tells you it's based in reality and time travel isn't real.

...but this episode has put the idea in your head... and it doesn't really go away, does it?

Esmail's script never says it. Whiterose alludes to parallel universes and creating the world that was always meant to be. But she never calls it time travel.

But there's the implication...

Either way. Angela believes it's possible now. She'd betray Elliot and let thousands of people die for her belief. One Whiterose worked very hard to give to her.

[always-is-always]

Jungkook's been working hard!

JK the perfectionist. Always. It's hard-wired in him, for sure.

After his performance at GCF in NY, and his live performance in London, I had a feeling that we would be getting an even higher level of vocal work from JK. He was pitchy, as they say, which is hard for someone like him to accept from himself.

He had been challenged by that awful cold that made it hard to breathe, much less sing. AND, it made it hard for him to hear himself clearly, too. A tough combination for a Singer/Performer who is a perfectionist at heart.

As a musician or singer, you know that as soon as that note leaves your mouth, your instrument (stringed, wind, keyboard, etc.), if it is the right note. Your ear knows, before anything else. By the time that awareness hits (a millisecond later), it is too late to adjust it (to fix it!). Yeah.

For the perfectionist, it is never acceptable to hit any note that is in any way off key. Slightly sharp or slightly flat, it is critical to the perfectionist. It does matter.

Watching Jungkook in this iHeart Radio performance a couple of times, you can clearly hear how he has worked HARD to stay in key, with every note, in this performance. He knows when to drop out as the recording plays along. Then, when it is his voice live, it in on! He sounds great!

He's talked about how hard it has been to sing in English. He's talked about how hard the "r" is, and how sometimes a letter is pronounced and sometimes it isn't. English is a hard language to learn and speak correctly, when one's birth language is so different.

Add in the variety of accents that he's been exposed to, in his travels, in the recording studios, and every time he's been with English-speaking people. Brian Puspos, Jack Harlow, and Chris Martin have very different English accents, for an example. It can be really hard for the non-native English ear to hear the differences and to understand what people are saying clearly. Not to mention the slang that some use, in communicating. Is it "tomato" or "tomato"? Spelled the same, but the US and UK pronounce it very differently.

Jungkook has worked so hard, on every level that is necessary, to create music for this album. Hi vocal abilities have improved 10-fold, his English enunciation has improved 10-fold, and his ability to do it all while adding in the choreo....

Yeah. Jungkook has worked his butt off.

ARMYs know what he's navigated since he debuted at 15. Now it's time for the rest of the world to learn about Jeon Jungkook, and to understand just how amazing, gifted, humble, and hard-working he truly is. 💜🐰💜

[joyswonderland1108]

Scooter boy.

Okay so by now it would be awkward if the title gave the impression that i’m a fan of his. As i said yesterday, well, few hours ago, i would explain why Scooter should just shut the fuck up. 

So we already know that people can’t stand him, that boy as bestie said, makes Charles look more tolerable, he’s shady, not friendly looking, whatever you want but that isn’t all. Besides the fact that this man seems to have a bone to pick with Jimin but that’s not the issue here.

Remember when he was in a way hinting to JK being in Coachella and you’d think that him being the Ceo of Hybe America that would mean that JK would be performing, people were already side eyeing him because of that, because also, as the damn Ceo you have no business hinting at one of your artists being in the attendance. 

Now remember when these pictures dropped?

(I have half a mind to crop him out of the pictures istg)

You know what haters were saying? Haters INSIDE the fandom and outside of it as well, that JK was the company’s puppy, the company’s favorite and other more viles things that aren’t welcome in this household. Why? Because not only Bang PD was there (Which is very normal, as he should really) but also because Scooter boy had to shove his ass in there too. Now does that mean he likes JK? 

But again that’s still not the point we know he’s money thirsty so Army already never really expected him to like our boys or care for them on that level. Now you would say that he hyped up Yoongi on Billboard 200 and Jimin for his #1 on Billboard 100 (After he has been eaten alive by Army and also didn’t even hype up official posts but okay) BUT those were after the releases and after these boys have been sabotaged left and right, Jimin more so but still. Now reason why i said this bitch boy is setting JK up is because the single isn’t even released yet, we still have no idea what to expect and man is already over here hyping it up. 

You know what’s actually good but still is making the situation even worse? Seems like the single will get radio play as it has been hyped up by a radio host as well. Let’s go back to the pictures above and what JK has been called because of that, does something click in your mind? We Army are already very proud of our boys for their achievements, organic and raw achievements that is, they did that with no moula and i’ll be honest with you but we do like to flaunt that, we are proud of our boys and we like to let the world know that they did THAT! 

But you see the problem here? Everybody is already at our boys necks waiting for an opportunity to drag them into the mud. They’ve already accused Army of manipulating the sales or whatever for FACE and D-day, refused to believe that Yoongi and Jimin were able to make it through hard work and a devoted fandom, they’re waiting for an opportunity to say that something is rigged, something is shady about that, yada yada. 

Jungkook is more than capable of achieving phenomenal numbers and break the charts too, but since that Scooter boy can’t shut his butthole up, no matter the hard work JK is putting up on his own mfrs will open their shit holes to say that Scooter had a hand in that, that he has been doing some shady business to make JK break records. As i was discussing this with my friends yesterday, bestie informed me that people were already at it actually, Swifters were waiting for an occasion to do that because they too have a bone to pick with Scooter and instead of targeting HIM they’re targeting JK.

Wanna know what else is not helping this situation at all? The fact that just very recently “Cupid” turned out to not be a song that has been organically growing and hyped up the way everybody thought. At least Scooter boy could’ve faked his support to other members as well just to keep up a façade and save our boys from accusations, because at the end of the day, that mfr won’t face hate but JK will do in his stead. 

I swear every time i try to be excited about Seven something comes up and ruins the mood, like damn wtf?? Can y’all let our boy have a peaceful release? Everything is just so infuriating i swear..

[writtenjewels]

Unwrap

"Jason, I'm home.” Salim waited but didn't hear his partner answer him. The radio was playing so the man was definitely home. Salim took off his shoes and put his house keys away before venturing farther into the house. “Jason?” he called again.

“Hey, babe. I didn't hear ya come in.” Jason rounded the corner and Salim stared for a few breathless moments.

His partner was always handsome but today he was wearing a sleeveless top that showed off his toned arms and tight boxer-briefs. A red bow was tied around his neck.

“Jason,” Salim began again. He cleared his throat before continuing. “What is this?”

“Oh. Well.” Jason's lip quirked up in a little smile. “I know Christmas is over but there was one more present you forgot to unwrap.” He stepped close enough to be within easy reach.

An act like this was completely unnecessary: Salim and Jason had a very healthy sex life and even on nights when they didn't have sex, they were still physically affectionate. But every now and then one of them would still go through this extra bit of effort.

Salim reached out and pulled at the ends of the bow until it came off Jason's neck. He cupped the former marine's face in his hands, drawing Jason closer so their lips could meet. Jason's arms were around him at once as the kiss was returned. They held each other like that as their lips explored and tasted.

“Can I unwrap this in our room?” Salim asked in a husky tone.

“It's your present,” Jason answered. “You can unwrap me wherever you want.”

Salim smiled and took Jason by the hand, leading his partner into their room. It was true he could “unwrap” Jason anywhere in the house-- and had on past occasions-- but since this was supposed to be a gift, Salim intended to take his time and enjoy it. He gently guided Jason down on the bed and climbed on after him, pressing Jason's body into the mattress as they resumed kissing.

It never took long before the need between them grew enough for lips to part and tongues to slide into mouths. It was Salim who slid his tongue between Jason's all-too-eager lips and Jason responded with a groan, body arching up. Salim ran a hand along his partner's body, fingers delicate at first and then more eager as the kisses went on. He knew Jason well and could tell the younger man was fighting the urge to start taking clothes off.

“You know, hayati,” Salim mused between kisses. “I could be your present, too.”

“But.” Jason's fingers bunched into Salim's shirt. “I want you to be the one to open me up, babe.”

“That is a good present.” Salim leaned in to try encouraging those fingers. At last they grabbed his shirt tight and started pulling up. Salim kissed Jason's neck slowly, letting his tongue swirl against the younger man's Adam's apple. He only stopped so his shirt could be pulled off and tossed aside. Then it was his turn to do the same for his partner. Jason kept himself occupied by sucking on Salim's earlobe and treating the man to some low groans.

“Fuckin' love you,” Jason huffed.

[And I love you,] Salim returned in Arabic. He threw Jason's shirt to the floor, spreading his fingers out so he could run them all along the man's shoulders and down to his pecs. His muscles weren't quite as hardened as when he was fresh out of the army, but Salim liked these softer edges. They spoke of a man at peace, and Jason deserved that.

Salim gently pinched one of Jason's nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He carefully rolled and tweaked it while Jason lay squirming and breathing heavily. Once the nipple was hard, Salim leaned in to wrap his lips around it and suck. Jason crooned, fingers pushing into Salim's hair. The heel of one leg was nudging at Salim's hip. Salim released the nipple, glancing up to catch his partner's eye.

“Are you trying to take my pants off with your feet?” Jason answered by flashing a mischievous smile. Salim chuckled fondly and gave him a brief kiss before returning to Jason's nipple. It was hard to concentrate with Jason trying to nudge off Salim's pants with his heel. Salim switched nipples, sucking harder when he felt Jason making some progress.

“Salim,” Jason whined, “darlin', please.” Salim released the nipple, glancing down instead of up and noting the obvious bulge pressing against those tight boxer-briefs. When he looked up, he saw a familiar hungry fire in his partner's eyes.

He gripped onto the waistband of the boxers and slid them off, releasing Jason's erection. Salim didn't need to ask if Jason had lube nearby: there was always some in the bedside table drawer. Salim took it out now and set it close by.

“Finish opening your present, jarhead,” he urged. “You can use your hands.”

“Smart-ass,” Jason snorted. He made quick work of Salim's remaining clothes, tossing them and his removed boxer-briefs with the rest of their clothing. He immediately flopped back down on the bed again, stretching himself out enticingly.

As if Salim really needed the encouragement. He slid both hands up Jason's legs, pulling them apart and getting a good look at the tight ring of muscle. He let his thumb graze it and Jason trembled at his touch. Salim spread the lube over his fingers and started stretching one finger at a time.

“I might start wearing earrings again,” he mentioned, “since you like playing with my earlobes so much.”

“It ain't my birthday 'til July, Salim,” Jason retorted. Salim just smiled, pumping his fingers in a steady rhythm. He knew his partner's body well enough to know when Jason was ready for him.

Salim paused to coat himself in more lube before spreading Jason wider and pushing in. He took the first thrust slow and gentle and only stopped when he had filled Jason as deep as he could. Jason lifted up to press their lips together in a swift kiss.

“Tease,” Salim scolded him, making his returned kiss longer. Jason chuckled against his lips and hiked up a leg to wrap around Salim's waist. Salim started to thrust, slowly at first but building the pace along with the increased heat of their kisses.

He reached for Jason's other leg at the same moment his partner lifted it up, pulling it to join its brother around Salim's waist. The mattress started to creak a little from their combined weight as Salim kept pace against Jason, breaking away from that mouth only long enough for a quick breath or a moan of pleasure.

Salim intended to draw this out longer but once things started sparking between him and his beloved jarhead, there was no hope of it. They were both too needy, too eager for each other. Jason's fingers raked along Salim's back and he gasped out things like please and fuck, yes whenever he had a chance.

They both reached their climaxes arching as close as they could, calling each other's names and gripping on tight as the pleasure took hold of them. As a result, they were far too tangled into each other to move. But of course neither of them minded.

“Salim.” He turned and felt a little tingle of pleasure as Jason nuzzled into the crook of his neck. “We started the new year with a bang, huh?”

“Leave the bad jokes to me, hayati.”

“You love it,” Jason insisted.

“I do,” Salim agreed. Jason hummed and snuggled closer.

“I like the sound of that.”

Salim swallowed. He thought of the little box he had hidden in the house, of the next gift he wanted Jason to unwrap. Salim's stomach gave a little flip of nerves and excitement. “So do I.”

[ask-serendipity-sky]

Hi Sky, I don't know if this is a question, a thought or a mixture, you decide, but here I go, also English is not my native language so I'm sorry if I don't use the words correctly or you don't understand what I mean

On the day of the BBA nominations, the Jjks complained that 7 was nominated in the Kpop category and not in the general category, arguing that both lyrics, producers, etc. were in English and therefore made more sense, from what I heard and I read these days that I know that the BBA uses different data that gives points (please correct me if I'm wrong)

Therefore, 7, not being nominated, would mean that It did not reach those points, which brings me to the next point

I get the impression that since its launch, the fandom in general measured the success of 7 only based on the streams which is not fair given everything that surrounded it in terms of promotion, radio play, etc., we also know that the only reason being a 7 was to position Jk as the outstanding soloist especially in the US, so not being nominated in the general category could serve as a way to measure success in the US? Why, in that case, the winner would be LC

I also know, in case anyone asks, that LC has more time, but without forgetting that it has not been restocked since the first week, while 7 have been restocked even before the end of that first week

so do you think that 7 not being nominated means that in the end it did not make it into the GP despite all the effort and money behind it or that the industry will always treat people from outside as a separate category, although in this Is everything thinking from a US market point of view?

woo, I'm sorry for this essay and if you read the whole thing and give me your opinion or point of view I would appreciate it, thank you

Hi anon,

So I'm not an expert at these things but this is what I understand:

We view these kpop categories as somewhat xenophobic but, in reality, they are giving kpop a chance. If it wasn't for these categories, all these kpop artists wouldn't have been nominated. Only Jimin would have been nomimated for Top Selling Song and that's with the fact that it never got its cd restocked like Seven did.

Like you mentioned, BBMAs are based on chart points during tracking period. Jk was simply released too late into the tracking period to be able to compete with songs that had been accumulating points since January and February.

People also failed to recognize that BBMA focuses on each version of a song. Each song has its own points so Seven having a lot of versions didn't help as the streaming and buying has to be divided into all the versions and Like Crazy having 2 versions helped because people focused only on those 2 versions.

In this case, I don't feel like the BBMAs are treating kpop as outside people. I think they gave kpop a chance and it increases their viewing numbers, which is probably what they like the most.

Leaving the charts aside, I think that Seven is not as popular as people think it is. It's hard to know that considering all the resources that were used to push the song and because army is a fandom that will hype anything just for records. But this is just my opinion.

Awards seem to always be unfair when they are based on nominations coming from the labels or fans, but since these awards are actually data driven, I think it shows organic success for Like Crazy despite not being playlisted, being separated on Spotify, a bunch of weird problems with Spotify, not having radio play, not getting promo in the US despite having an English version of Like Crazy, and no restocking of cds.

Hope this answers your question!

[lovepaperhearts]

Ludwig X Female Reader – Music Healer.

The Cuphead Show fanfic.

Part 1

This is my very first reader-fic I’ve ever done. I hope you’ll like it. So far I’ve gotten to this point and haven’t been hit by writers block along the way.

Edit: since I've gotten great positive reactions from all around, a part 2 will be written! (Also, fixed some typos and a few mistakes)

I do have to admit that I had fun to research stuff that exist in 1930, like Ludwig’s design is a phonograph, one of its first design before the gramophone-record exist. Which makes sense, as a trademark since 1887, as a generic name in the UK since 1910, and the name gramophone exist at 1940 (record version or turntable).

@juniminabloom I hope you like it, I tried my best to write, and I hope other Ludwig Fans loves this as I love writing it.

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

“Uuugh, I can’t believe I’ve lost half of my price money in the hospital for my healing… And now I have to find someone to fix my phonographs-parts!” Ludwig complained, walking on the sidewalk in the city with a cane (He’s limping a bit from his injuries).

Ever since the piano-incident when he won (by stealing someone else’s pianoplay) the piano competition in the Inkwell Theater, his phonograph-head couldn’t play anymore. His horn was completely bend down and a huge crack in it, the wood on his face has some dents, his handle went missing and his button-nose was stuck inside of his face. No doctors from the hospital couldn’t “help” him to get fixed, only help him heal from wounds and broken bones.

Ludwig pulled out a little business card out of his pocket “At least one of the doctors knew a great repairman of phonographs and radios. One of the greatest as he told me. Let’s see…”

Is your music broken? Fear not!

Bring your instruments, phonographs, music boxes and radios over and I will heal it back to life!

Y/N’s Music Healer Shop at Inkwell Edison Street 1877

Ludwig turned around the corner, looked up from the business card and saw across the street the Music Healer Shop “Ah, there it is.” He crossed the street and looked at the sign upon the store. Just then, the door went open and a happy young boy walked outside, playing his trumpet.

“Thank you for fixing my trumpet, Y/N!” the young boy called out and walked away, continue to play.

“Well, here goes nothing…” Ludwig thought and entered the shop, ringing the little bell above the door. Inside the store, there were plenty of phonographs, radios and instruments laying in the shelves, along with several loose parts on sale. He went to see a phonograph, standing there with a little nametag. Apparently, this one went broken but got fixed, waiting for its owner to pick it up.

“Good morning, sir!” A voice called out to him. Ludwig turned around and saw a woman moving towards him “How can I help you?”

“Ah, good morning. I came here to see and speak to the owner of this shop.”

“You’re talking to the owner right here.”

“Oh… Well, may I speak to the repairman of this shop then?”

“You’re speaking to the repairman right here. Or better said repairwoman.” Y/N laughed.

“You? You’re the repairman?”

“Yes.”

…

“Ha, that’s ridiculous!” Ludwig laughed “A woomaan doing this?!”

“E-excuse me?”

“Don’t take it too hard, my dear. I never met a woomaan doing a man’s job like this.”

“Pardon?!”

“I know that woomaans belongs behind a kitchen counter and being a housewife. So I’ll be off to another repairman that’s actually a man and knows how to fix me. I won’t be needing your help.”

Oh that’s it! “Listen here, mister!” Y/n pressed her finger against his chest “How dare you say something like that?! Women can do as much as a man, even a job as this or in the army! Heck, we are able to vote 10 years ago! There will be a time that women get to do even more than you think! You’ll be sorry you ever said that to me!”

“Good luck with that, my dear. And with your business.” Ludwig laughed and walked out of the store.

“UGH! Jerk!”

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

*Skip-time to evening*

“YIAAAUW!” “AAHHH!” “THAT HURTS!” “WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT THING?!” “NOOO!” “GET AWAY FROM ME!” Ludwig ran out screaming, away from the fourth music repair shop in Inkwell. After being far away from his terrifying experience of a true brutal music-fixer, he stopped running and leaned over to catch his breath.

“Now what do I do…” Ludwig thought “That was my last chance to get my phonograph fixed… And it’s getting late… There’s only one shop left- No, I can’t do that. Not after what I… Every shop-owner said that she’s indeed the best at her job, and they’re not even bothered by her gender… She helped a being like myself to get fixed with gentle hands…”

He looked at the reflection of himself in one of the shop-windows and saw how terrible he looked. He placed his hand upon his face “I don’t have much choice left…”

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

*Skip-time to late-evening, around 9pm*

“At last, it’s Saturday-evening and finally able to relax for tomorrow!” Y/N sat down and placed a mug with tea upon her tea-table while wearing her pink pajamas and robe “Well, let’s see how this story goes on.” Y/N took a book laying upon the tea-table and started to read.

….

BONK BONK BONK BONK!!!!

What in the?!

BAM BAM BAM BAM!!!

“Is that on the front door of my shop?!” Y/N asked out loud and stood up to walk towards the door that separated her home and her shop with work-area.

BAM BONK BAM BONK!!!

Y/N turned on the lights and moved at the front door “Will you stop doing that?! I’m on my way!!!”

BONK BAM BONK BAM!!!

“REALLY?!” Y/N shouted “WHO ON EARTH WOULD BE AT THIS HOUR-” She lifted the roller shutter up and saw Ludwig banging on the door.

“Please, help me.”

…

Y/N looked at him with an angry frown and rolled the roller shutter down.

“Please!”

BAM BAM!!!

Y/N unlocked the door and opened it “Will you cut that out?!” She grabbed his arm, pulled Ludwig inside the shop and locked the front door again “The neighbors will call the Bee Police on us and arrest us for noise disturbance!”

…

“Now, why are you here so late after closing time?” Y/N asked, even though she knew why already.

“I… I need your help.”

…

“Excuse me? My help?”

“Yes, your help.”

…

“Since when do you need help from a woomaan?” Y/N copied Ludwig’s words and crossed her arms “I only belong in the kitchen and be a housewife as you told me.”

…

“Not able to talk big now, huh?” Y/N moved to the front door again, her back turned away from Ludwig “Now, if you don’t mind, I would like you to leave-”

“No, please! I really need your help!”

“What are you going to do? Beg on your knees for forgiveness?” Y/N said with sarcasm.

Thump.

Y/N turned around to look what sound it was and saw Ludwig upon his knees and holding his hands.

“I was being sarcastic. I didn’t think he would actually do it!” Y/N thought and felt shocked by his actions.

“Please, my dear. You’re truly the only one that can help me now. I went to all the repairmen in the Inkwell City and no one had a gentle hand upon me to fix me. They all said you’re the best at your job in fixing, even with people like me. I… I don’t want my music to die. Who am I without my own sound? Please, help me, I beg of you. Please.”

…

“Sigh. Who am I to refuse? I heal music, no matter what. It’s my job, living and passion.” Y/N moved at front of Ludwig “You promise to behave and not insult me again?”

“I promise, my dear.”

“… Alright, I’ll help you. Come on.” Y/N held her hand out. Ludwig took it and got pulled up.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Ludwig held her hand and kept shaking it.

“It’s okay. Follow me.”

Both of them moved to the work-area of the store “Oh, is that a phonograph over there?”

“Yes, it is. It belonged to my father, Thomas. It’s his first one he ever restored and was gifted by one of the royal people in Inkwell Islands.”

“Really?”

“Yes, it even has a signature upon the horn from the owners with a text as well. It’s the only thing I have of him and it means a lot to me. Here, take a seat on the big couch.”

“I do apologize that I arrived so late.” Ludwig sat down.

“I can see how desperate you are, um… I’m sorry, I don’t think I got to know your name.”

“My name is Ludwig.”

“… Wait, as in “Ludwig” that won the piano competition and got crushed under a piano a half year ago?”

“…Yes.” Ludwig said with a painful and shameful face.

“I heard that over the radio.” Y/N went to her stove and started to set some tea “I was beyond shock that has happened to you. Why would there be a piano above the stage anyway? Don’t people know how dangerous that is?”

“It’s still a mystery who has done it or why it was up there, my dear.”

“There’s not many people that survives something like that, you must’ve been very lucky.”

“I was. The doctors said if I had a second piano dropped on me, I would’ve been dead.”

Y/N placed herbs inside the hot water kettle “It’s insane when whoever done it would place a second piano, let alone one.”

…

“Well, at least, you’re alive. That’s the important part.”

“… Thank you, my dear.”

“You don’t need to call me “my dear”. Just call me Y/N.”

“If that’s what you wish, Y/N.”

Y/N moved with a mug and handed to Ludwig “Here, drink this. It will calm you down.”

“Thank you.” Ludwig took a sip.

“Now.” Y/N removed her robe and placed it next to Ludwig on the couch “Let me take a look at your damage.”

Ludwig couldn’t help but blush slightly of seeing Y/N in her pajamas. He began to blush more once she placed her hands upon his cheeks and moved his head from side to side.

“Your wooden face has cracks and scratches, even a small hole here. Your wax cylinder is still intact, that’s good news. Your handle is missing. Your horn is crooked and a really huge crack in it, I’m not sure if I can save it, but I’ll try my best… Am I missing something, Ludwig?”

“Uuuh… Oh, my sincere apologies! Yes, my button-nose is pushed inside and it’s stuck.”

“Ah, I see it. Yes.” Y/N moved away from Ludwig to her workbench.

Ludwig drank a lot of his tea at once. “What was that?” He thought.

“I believe I can manage to fix those damages you have. I got all the parts I need, so I’ll get started right away.”

“Is it going to hurt?”

“Not really, that is when you sleep in while I’m fixing you.”

“I’m not feeling sleepy…” Ludwig started to yawn.

“You sure about that?” Y/N laughed.

“I…” Ludwig’s head started to drop down.

“Go ahead, sleep.”

…

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

*The next morning, Sunday at 8am*

…

“Mmm… Yawn…” Ludwig started to wake up “Where… am I… Wait!” He rose up and saw a blanket upon him “Did I truly fell asleep last night?” He looked over and saw Y/N sitting at her workbench asleep “It really is morning.” He scratches his nose-!

“What?!” Ludwig got up and headed to a mirror hanging there in the workshop. His jaw dropped. His face is completely fixed! He got a new handle, his horn has been replaced with a new one that looked close to his original one and even more shiny than before, all of the scratches and cracks were gone. His button-nose stood there instead being inside his face. With hesitation, he pressed it and his music started to play. He never sounded so clear, like brand new.

“I… I can’t believe it…” Ludwig stood there with disbelief and tears in his eyes “How… How did she do it?”

…

“Ah, look who’s awake.” Y/N woke up from the playing music “Are you happy with the result?”

…

“Is everything alright, Ludwig?” Y/N got up and went to him.

…

Suddenly, Ludwig turned around “THANK YOU!” and gave Y/N a hug, holding her tightly “You have no idea how much this means to me!”

Y/N patted his back “It’s my job to do this, Ludwig. But I’m still gonna say: You’re welcome.”

Ludwig let go of the hug, but kept his hands upon Y/N’s shoulders “But how? How did you manage to do this? I don’t even feel pain at all!”

“Well, I can only work on you when you’re asleep. I gave you chamomile tea to help you fall asleep. And for the pain, I added some ginger to the tea, which also really helps for it. Sorry for tricking you like that, I’ve had people before that were so scared that they ran out of the shop. So, my father came up with this little trick.”

“I see.”

“I’m truly glad that everything’s working fine.” Y/N placed her hands upon Ludwig’s cheeks again “Even the horn works perfectly. I couldn’t save your first horn, so I had to use a new one that looked closely to your old one. By the way, I did manage to find something odd in your old horn while I was trying to fix it.”

“What was it?”

Y/N removed her hands again “It stunk pretty badly, but I believe it was a part of a crawdad?”

…

“Oh, I um… I think I can recall how it ended up there, but promptly forgot about it.”

“Don’t worry about it, it wasn’t the weirdest thing I found in certain parts in instruments or people.” Y/N laughed.

“I can imagine it.” Ludwig laughed along.

“Anyway, now that you’re all fixed, take it easy for the rest of the day. I don’t want to see you back with another broken part on the same day that you got fixed. Some people can be so reckless and think they’re invincible. You can do that tomorrow.” Y/N joked on the last part.

“Don’t worry my dear, I’m not reckless.” Ludwig pulled out his wallet “How much is it?”

“In total… Of all the fixing and replacements, it will be 120$ dollars, please.”

“That’s it? I’m surprised that it doesn’t cost much as I thought.” Ludwig pulled out the money and hand it to her. Both of them headed to the entrance of the shop.

“It’s mostly my standard price, depending on the damage.” Y/N took the money “If there’s parts that I needed to get it elsewhere, then it would be a bit more, but I had everything I needed right here.” Y/N unlocked the front door “Yaawn.”

“Tired, my dear?”

“Yeah, I’ll be catching some Z’s soon.”

“Wait, how long have you been working to fix me?”

“From the moment you fell asleep and when I was done… From 9pm to 7am.”

“You’ve worked the entire night through?!” Ludwig said shocked.

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t the first time I’ve done this. I had an emergency before in the middle of the night, so I’m used to it. Besides, it’s Sunday and it’s my rest day. I don’t need to open my shop on Sunday.”

“I… I feel like I haven’t paid you enough for your job.”

“You don’t need to pay me more than you already did!”

“But still-”

“It’s okay, really.”

“… Oh! How about this? I will ask you to join me for dinner tonight.”

“Dinner?”

“Yes, dinner.” Ludwig went down on one knee “As a reward for your hard work and kindness toward me, and an apology for my rudeness from yesterday. I never should’ve said those horrible words to you and it will never happen again.”

“I-uuh… I-” He’s literally asking me out!

Ludwig took your hand “What do you say, my dear? I only ask for one dinner.”

… Maybe one dinner wouldn’t hurt. I do have to admit he’s quite handsome…

“Alright, one dinner. I’m always happy when food gets involved.” Y/N joked with her cheeks blushing.

“Splendid!” Ludwig rose up, still holding your hand “I’ll pick you up at 7pm here. Get plenty of rest for tonight. I’ll be seeing you soon, my dear.” Ludwig kissed your hand “Until then.” And stepped out of the shop.

…

Am I really going out?! With him?! I’m not sure I can sleep right now. Y/N placed her hands upon her burning cheeks.

 To be continued.

[tiger-moran]

I have finally realised what my major issue with Moran in Moriarty: The Devil's Game was (aside from the heteronormativity and the lack of showing us things (relying more on just telling us) about his more personal relationship with Moriarty (also his accent meaning I couldn't register him as Moran anyway))

I think he went too much into 'cheeky chap'/'amusing sidekick' territory and never really felt believable as a murderer, not even when he actually did murder someone? He didn't really ever feel dangerous? It was another thing they largely kept telling us but not actually showing us, that he was a murderer/assassin/whatever. They told us he was going to be hanged for murder and he'd killed Adair and they told us he was the best shot in the army or whatever but... well for one thing it's kind of hard to convey certain things in just audio (and I think that's another big issue I do have with podcasts and radio plays and stuff overall, that we explicitly have to be told things a lot because we can't see anything, and it does end up feeling like we're being told stuff often with nothing to back these statements up to make them actually believable).

So for instance when they escaped the prison I really couldn't tell what was going on there (apparently he killed the guard with a broken bottle or... something? But by the time I found out what he'd actually done it was just kind of too late for this to have a real impact on his characterisation for me because at the time when it actually mattered I hadn't got a clue what was going on. Or where he was supposed to have shot Watson, it was kind of confusing as hell to me what had just happened there as well until they explicitly spelled it out later (in the next episode in fact, I think) that he'd shot Watson and so he just... never really felt like... this is the guy who is perfectly nice and jovial but if you fuck with him or his professor he will end you. And I get that this was kind of a flipped around take on the canon so it's 'their' version of Moran but they still made Moran a murderer in it, he was still meant to be some kind of killer for hire or something in it, but then he didn't really ever feel dangerous? Even when we were being told yeah he's a killer or he's just shot someone or whatever I just... didn't really buy into that. In fact I bought into this so little I think that in the one instance where (I think) he was meant to have just killed someone in a very cold-blooded way then that felt so cold-blooded he almost felt like a totally different character then. His character didn't feel, well, cohesive to me. Or you know, actually like Moran.

[roo-bastmoon]

After having a long think...

Even though I keep saying I'm going to go rest and stop obsessing about this, I guess I can't. I just suck at sitting still and being chill. My thoughts are under the cut out of respect for folks in the tags who don't want to engage in any drama around Seven.

Here is a list of all the push for Seven that has been noticed in the first two days (the thread is currently 30-posts deep but please do take a look):

Note: I haven't vetted any of those comments. I just scrolled through them and felt so overwhelmed. It just doesn't look good, but I bow to any industry experts who have real data and experience.

Update: Artie has a good post here about Jimin's debut numbers and playlists. Also here about how Seven being promoted to radio isn't necessarily proof that it was payola and they have the numbers from credible sources to back that possibility up:

I'm just going to come right out and say it: I find payola dishonorable. It's not just advertising; it's basically bribes. And ads should never replace real people's streams.

I deeply respected that BTS and ARMY found such success without that stuff. It used to be about passionate artists, making their own music, which resonated with real people, who worked hard to promote it. It was about mutual respect.

JK's numbers don't look completely organic to me, but I don't think he had a hand in that.

I have such serious misgivings if this the direction Hybe is going in for JJK1, and have no clue how the group survives if the company picks and chooses their favorites for that kind of push. If this is the strategy for all BTS projects now, I have no idea how they can afford it. I'd really appreciate if they could come to us and try to explain how it could ever be on the up-and-up because I don't think it can.

I confess I will not be working hard at all for anything that seems inorganic. This project just looks like Scooter weaponizing Jungkook to win a dick-measuring contest with Taylor and others. I hate it.

That said, I've always been very clear that Jimin is my guide.

Jimin adores Jungkook. Jimin is working with and hanging out with Jungkook even as I type this. Jimin is choosing for now to stay with Hybe. Jimin is flying all over the world on Hybe's time and dime to work on even more projects. Jimin has more music to share with us, that Hybe is investing in. Jimin seems happy for the most part.

I will support Jimin and never move against the people Jimin loves.

I trust Jimin and give the benefit of the doubt to the people Jimin trusts.

When planning his first album, I do not believe that Jimin was told about decisions to split tracks, or skip play-listings, or what would get restocked, or if they'd buy ads for smoother streams on YouTube and Spotify or not, or what kind of articles would be written about him.

I believe Jimin had plenty of input on the design, look, feel, sound, tracks, cast, choreo, performances--all the creative aspects of his album. I think he was able to say what he needed to say and get Letter hidden on his album for Jungkook. But I don't think he was roped into strategic plans and profit and loss statements and marketing roll-outs in any great detail. I arrive at this idea based on my own experience in the entertainment industry--I could be wrong.

And so I think the same for Jungkook. I think Jungkook had input on some of the creative aspects of this single (and likely had suspicions of what working under Hybe America and Scooter might entail). I have no idea the conversations and pressures he faced around this topic, or if he simply trusted Bang PD to handle it. I don't know what all he talked about with Jimin and the hyungs.

I do know there was a time this year when he came to us on lives deeply depressed and almost lost, despondent. I know there was a group dinner where many things were discussed. And then there were many times he came to us on lives, inspired by and enamored with Jimin, memorizing and hyping up his work with such pure adoration, even as their own company refused to even mention Jimin's successes.

So I ask myself: does Jeon Jungkook really have it in him to steal Jimin's ideas or push himself out ahead of his hyungs, embracing unequal treatment and unfair advantages, just so he can be the one to make it big in the West?

And in looking for that answer, I'm reminded of this clip:

No. I don't think that's who Jeon Jungkook is. At least, it isn't the Jeon Jungkook I knew.

I am sad to say I think that is exactly who Scooter Braun is and who Bang PD has become. That is what the company would do. But not our Jungkook. Not unless everyone in the group was on board with it, somehow.

Jimin is standing by Jungkook. So I am standing by Jungkook--as a person.

But I've bought Seven once and I've added it to my night playlist and that's all the moves I'm making on that project. I will not be setting alarms to vote or using extra accounts to buy or hash-tagging anything, nor getting any merch, nor requesting local spins, none of that. It's a catchy song but as the thread I linked to above shows, it is a guaranteed "success" even without me. So I'm using my energy to support Jimin and other BTS projects that resonate with me and need me.

My stance on this might offend you, and I respect your feelings. I do not identify as a solo or anti. I still think of myself as aJimin-biased Jikooker who loves the members. I am probably toeing the line of being a manti, as I feel this company has broken faith with me. Not the creative or administrative staff, but the executives. I feel like they've ended our ten-year legacy in shame.

If it gets much worse, I may just dip out of the fandom after Jimin goes into service. I don't know. Probably I will have to see how things work out for the other solo works and plans for the group for 2025. At the moment, I have far bigger things to worry about, like colitis.

I can't lie, what I've seen so far with this rollout really shocked me, gave me a bit of an identity crisis, as ARMY. I don't want to assume the worst; neither do I want to bury my head in the sand for the sake of my ship or my favorite songs.

I will always act in accordance with my own conscience, based on the limited information I have. If I get better information, I will of course update my viewpoints. If at any point that causes anyone who is friended with me distress, I will understand completely if we need to part ways. I never, EVER wish to cause anyone harm.

But I'm too sick to argue and debate too much, too long. Boraland was supposed to be a place to unwind and feel inspired, not get more stressed. These past few 1.5 years months as ARMY has been exhausting in every sense of the word. So I'm choosing to put my energy into the things that bring some joy in my life.

I'm choosing to trust and follow Jimin's lead, for now.

[roonyxx]

Stolen Crown Chapter 6: Between the Sheets

By @jay-and-dean and @roonyxx

Pairings : Dean x reader ? Kight!Dean x reader ?

Summary :  What happens when she is sent in a world that isn’t hers, but with very familiar faces ?

This, as much as it looks like it, is not ‘technically’ an AU, because your Dean, our Dean, exists too…

Serie Warnings : Smut (please be 18+), Fluff, Angst, Swearing. Mention of physical pain. Each Chapter will have detailed warnings.

Chapter warnings : Fluff, little bit of angst, Smut

Chapter Word count : 4767

Note : This is a collaboration between both of us. We can’t both edit the same post, so we decided we would post 1 chapter/2 each, like for Firefly.

We both worked as much on this story and it’s the result of both our brains but also both our hearts.

Please, if you want to show love for this story, don’t forget we were together in this.

Text divider by the awesome @talesmaniac89​

Stolen Crown Masterlist

Want to read more:

Jay’s Masterlist

Roonyxx Masterlist

She dances. 

         Alone in her room, half naked, she dances to songs that only exist in her head here. Songs she remembers skipping so often on the radio because she likes nothing more than rock, and still…

         In that castle, between stone walls, the music she misses now is some of this sexy mainstream electro thing her world can do so well, something with maybe a latin rhythm, a song she could play loud in Dean’s car to make him grumpy.

         She barely slept and kept thinking about everything Dean said -that armor and fur bearded version of Dean- what he said with such certainty. And, waiting in her bed or swaying to the silent music, she missed her Dean, his smile, his little habits and the jokes he makes…

She thinks about what she knows : She loves Dean, her Dean, her hero, everything he does, every one of his little habits, with all her heart ; and the queen loves hers just the same way. She also knows the knight loves his queen passionately. And yet…

Even the idea is appealing, that can’t mean that her Dean has this kind of feelings for her. Not Dean, it’s ridiculous. He never showed anything like this, and she is far from being a queen, right ? 

It can’t be as simple as that anyway…

         She holds her own body in her arms like she was dancing with someone and moves her hips the best she can, like she was Shakira or any of those perfect women that could deserve a man like the one she yearns for. 

         In her head, Dean is here. Wearing flannel and his big boots, hands on his jeans, light scruff at his cheeks. He’s watching her like the men look at the pretty girl dancing in the music videos and a ray of sun from this radiant morning is hitting his beautiful smug face.

         She’s smiling for herself, trying so hard to forget about everything now, focusing on the song in her head, trying to remember the Impala’s smell and the feeling of Dean’s short hair through her fingers. 

She is doing this to survive. Home is far, and there is a chance she never sees it again. There is a chance music is lost forever, beer too, the impala and chocolate… There is a chance her friends, and him, are lost forever.

So she sways her hips to give herself a moment of peace. She just dances.

         But just the moment she is finally starting to feel in a soft carefree transe, bringing the man she loves so much closer in her dizzy mind, the heavy door loudly opens and the maids freeze at seeing her holding herself in her undergarment.

         And just like that, the moment dies. 

“Your Majesty ?” the noble Head calls her during the Council. 

And even if her mind is still invaded by Dean and blurry with the lack of sleep, she answers. 

“I am not agreeing to such measures” she states calmly. “That would destabilize the balance of the powers between the army and the justice system. If Justice makes us unfair, then it has to be changed, and not our hearts.”

She learned that from the man she loves. Fate or not, God or not, world order or not… If it doesn’t feel right, it has to be changed. If Dean Winchester can defy every plan of Heaven and Hell, she can change unfair laws.

In this world like in her own, he makes her stronger. 

She sits in that throne with a very different state of mind now. She holds the kingdom’s reins for the queen, for the knight, she holds on for herself and for what’s fair. 

She is not just faking anymore, she is ruling. For love, she is ruling.

She pushes a thin strand of her hair that got free from her crown, and looks at Sam from her higher seat, putting her hand on the arm of her throne again. 

“I demand that the Men of Letters work on a reform of that Justice will all depend on, and expound it to the honorable Council. How long shall it take, sir Winchester ?”

“I…” Sam thinks. “A deep reforming of that part of our Laws would be a colossal amount of work, your Majesty. I would dare ask for three months.”

She turns to the knight standing at her right for a split second, just needing to feel his charisma wrapping her to keep her back straight and chin high, then to the people in the back of the room.

“I give you two months” she states, making Sam nod. “I count on you.”

“Reforming Justice ?” Dean whispers next to her before he takes a piece of bread. 

She looks up, searching the diner room for hostile looks but nobody seems suspicious anymore. 

“I am the queen” she states. 

“You are not” he murmurs. 

Turning to him, she lets her eyes enjoy the perfection of his face. 

“Do you disagree with my decision ?” she asks.

“It is not my place to agree or disagree” he says low, ripping a piece of chicken from the bone in his plate. 

“Your place is to obey, and I asked a question.”

His eyes come up to meet hers. 

“Not because you are getting incredibly good at this role, I forget anything” but as she doesn’t move, waiting for an answer, he sighs. “I agree with your decision, as usual, your Majesty.”

“Do you think the queen would ?”

“Well you think like my Queen, do you not ?” he says with a kind smile. 

She thinks like the queen indeed, and she loves Dean like the queen loves him. In each and every word he pronounces, she can tell he is thinking of this every second that passes. Just like she can’t stop thinking of his words.

He is in love with you.

Once again, her heart flutters with hope just for an instant -the hundredth since he pronounced those words- before every rational thought crushes this nonsense.

“I do think like the queen” she smiles. “I was right about the shirt.”

“You were.”

A frown appears on his confused face, like he just couldn’t process his beloved queen holding his stolen shirt at night, smelling his and snuggling into it.

“And I am right about you having to become king” she chuckles behind her cup of wine. 

His green eyes widen and he looks around. 

“Do not say that in public !” he whispers angrily, only making her smile a little more.

His face turns a little grumpy in a very, slightly amused, specific way, and her heart breaks. 

He looks like Dean. 

The knight always looks like Dean, yet, usually, the tiny differences between them are enough to make her remember who he isn’t… But that expression is Dean. It is him, the love of her life, his face is screaming it. 

A strand of his longer hair falls on his forehead in a little crook but she can’t unsee the man she misses now. As hard as she tries, Dean seems to be looking back at her. 

“Your face has the prettiest shape” she whispers. “It would deserve to be visible.”

His eyes search her features. 

“My face ?”

She looks down, taking grapes, to hide the intimacy of their conversation between the casual diner going on. 

“Dean shaves his beard shorter than yours” she states with her love strangling her. “Is it a knight rule or anything ?”

He keeps staring at her, and even she is aware no one is supposed to look at the queen like that. After a long second he finally answers.

“No.”

         Finally, her favorite moment of the day. 

         She sits on her huge fluffy bed, getting relaxed by the warm light of the fireplace, looking at the place of the mattress that she knows hides the knight’s shirt.

         How many nights the queen must have waited to take it, sad that it was slowly losing his smell. 

How did she even got it ? In this world, people don’t own a lot of clothes, and it must, for sure, have been harder for the queen to get it, than it was for her to just make a shirt or a henley disappear during laundry day…

Curious, she bends, strangled by the corset tirelessly compressing her lungs, and takes the piece of cloth from its precious hiding place. 

It is a large whitish shirt, with little ropes on the front. She looks at it with a smile, imagining Dean in it, looking so romantic like in movies. 

She buries her face in it. It doesn’t really have a smell anymore but the idea that it was against his chest just makes her comfortable for a moment… Comfortable enough to forget this is not, in fact, the right Dean’s shirt.

The big door opens a little and the knight sneaks in discreetly, before closing it cautiously. In a guilty jump, she lets it fall on her knees and looks up.

“I…” she clears her throat. “I didn’t think you could come tonight.”

He looks at her, then at the shirt on her lap, making her ears burn.

Something is different about him. He looks like… He looks like Dean ! Is she becoming crazy ? Seeing what she needs the most like a mirage !

“I did not think it would be possible either” he states with his hands on his back, leaving a long silence fills the room before he speaks agan. “Do you miss him that much ?”

“Wait” she understands what was bothering her. “Did you shave ?”

His body answers for him : His tongue comes to moist his plumb lips and his pretty eyes meet the floor. 

“I wanted to try” he says shyly.

Her breath wants to get deep, but the dress she is wearing, and the million of emotions she’s feeling are making it impossible. 

“You look even more like him” she states, getting up to put the shirt under the mattress again. “It’s… confusing.”

         The knight walks a little closer in the large room, putting his sword on the biggest table, by the wooden door. 

         Her mind is playing tricks for the first time since she got here, making him her Dean, in a costume maybe… Noticing the strength of his thighs under those pants, the width of his shoulders…

“There is something I do not fully understand” he says, breaking the deep silence. “You keep saying that in your world, people are free to be with whoever they like so… Why have you never been with him ?”

She swallows hard, tugging at the ropes in her lower back as she can, dreaming of getting free of that dress.

“I told you” she states. “He doesn’t want me.”

“But you want him.”

“Yes, but… He has to want it too” she frowns.

“Even if he does not love you, which I do not believe a second… You also said that people could just lay together without marriage” he shrugs. “So why not asking for a night with him ?”

Her eyes widen for a second before she starts laughing. 

“Wait” she chuckles. “You’re saying I should just ask for sex ? I can’t do that !”

“Why not ?” he asks with a confused look on his face.

She sighs, and starts untying her hair in a grunt.

“Would you, if the queen asked for it ?”

“My Queen would not…”

“Cut the crap” she cuts him. “She needs your smell to sleep, she certainly even touched herself in the best places thinking of your hips between her thighs.”

“H-” he tries to protest, apparently too flustered to find his words. “When you yearn for him, is that what you do ?”

She blushes more and rubs her face. 

“Yes…. I know what you think : filthy, sin, unholy and shit…” she looks away from his heavy glare, touching her hair like it could make her brave. “You have to understand, I imagine him in every kind of circumstances, holding me, dancing with me, looking at me. I imagined him saving me a thousand times since I got lost… And, yes, when I feel the urge to caress… myself… I also imagine his hand. It’s not dirty, it’s love.”

“I fight it” he sighs with a defeated tone. 

“Fight it ?”

“When I… When I find myself in the arms of a pretty maid, when I give in to my…” he searches her face, like he was genuinely trying to find comfort or advices. “I do not want to have unholy thoughts about her Majesty… I just… Sometimes I close my eyes and wonder if her… core would be soft and w-warm, I… For God’s sake forgive me, I…”

When she sees him struggling with his confession, ready to take it all back and leave, she walks to him, putting a soft reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“No, De- Sir, it’s really normal.”

“You said you shared a house with D-Dean” he stammers on his name, confused by the whole situation.

“I do.”

“And that you were close friends” he finishes. “So I get you get to laugh with him or take his hand when the days are dark.”

At his word, she cautiously takes his hand, and notices he is trembling. 

“Much more than that actually” she admits. “It happens that I fall asleep in his arms on a couch, or share a bed during a hunt…”

His eyes trace her face with an intensity that makes her shiver, and the irregular light of the fire seems to make his eyelashes dance. 

“I am not allowed to touch her hand” he states, looking down at her fingers around his palm. “I am barely allowed to look at her most of the time. I… I do not know how her skin feels.”

At his words, she shivers, imagining a world where Dean would be that unapproachable.

         A log falls in the fireplace, changing the light slightly. The knight’s jaw is clenched, and his breathing is a little faster than she has ever seen it. 

         Maybe if he knew… Maybe if he broke the walls in his head that makes her that sacred, he would just allow himself to talk to her. 

         In a gentle move, she lifts his hand, making him look up at her face with questions in his eyes. 

“Just let me” she whispers, putting her lips softly to his knuckles to put a kiss here. “There, is that how you imagined it ?” she says against his skin. 

But he doesn’t answer, his burning green eyes are staring at her lips on his freckled hand like it was some kind of breathtaking miracle. 

“Touch my shoulder” she asks. 

“I…”

Seeing his hesitation, she guides his fingers to the point where her shoulder joins her neck.

“Doesn’t she feel human ?” she murmurs, shivering at his touch. 

“My Queen” he sighs under his breath.

“Dean” she almost whines. “I miss you so much…”

Saying that, she comes closer, putting her body against him, and her face in his neck, to imagine her hero has finally returned and is holding her. 

         The knight hesitates, his body tensing like he was going to throw her away for a second, like he was going to get furious… But she is not afraid of him.

“Hold me, please” she begs. “Just a hug… Hold me.”

And so he does.

         His strong arms wrap around her tighter than expected, gripping her back with his burning hands.

         When a knock on the door resonates, the knight jumps out of her arms and goes hide in the dark of the room. 

“My Queen ?” a maid asks through the door. “May I change you for the night ?”

“I did it myself !” she lies, not wanting Dean to leave.

“Well have a great night, my Queen.”

She waits for a second, watching at the door like it could burst open, and when she turns again to tell the Knight it is safe again, she finds him right next to her.

His pupils are blown wide, staring at her with an expression that she has never received before from such green eyes, it is lust and passion.

His big, slightly trembling hand comes up to cup her cheek.

“Y-Y/n, my Queen” he whispers on a shallow breath, like he has been holding it for years.

She leans into his touch and sighs.

“My Dean” her hand comes up to cup his against her face. 

She looks up at him through her eyelashes and catches him looking at her lips with a deep desire, a desire she will probably never see again, not on her Dean at least.

“Kiss me” she whispers to the strong knight, standing up on her tiptoes and cupping his face with both her hands, trying to pull him closer to her. 

She can feel him resisting.

“Please Dean…” she begs him.

“I-I can’t… I won’t be able to stop” his voice is wavering, she can hear the battle inside his head, the rational thoughts against the sinful ones.

“I don’t want you to stop” she pleads with him.

“I…” she can feel his breath fanning over her face, she tilts her chin up to brush her lips over his.

A growl vibrates through his chest when he pulls her flush against him and presses his lips on hers, with an eagerness she has never tasted before. She wraps her hands around his neck and winds her fingers through his hair. 

His tongue invades her mouth, exploring all of her for the first time. And she gets totally lost in him, lost on those lips she dreamed of for years.

His hands slide down his chest and she starts to tug at the leather and metal clasps. She moans loud as he kisses down her neck, his slight scruff scratching her sensitive skin.

“Dean…” she mewls, her hands still trying to find a way to his skin in the maze of furr, metal and leather.

With every breath she takes she can feel the constricting corset around her that steals oxygen from her lungs. She takes off her top dress. Revealing her tightly pressed cleavage to him.

His eyes widen and his hands are firm on her waist as a deep groan leaves his lips, he bends down to kiss the swell of her breasts that pools over the corset. She tilts her head back at the sensation and tugs at his hair.

“Take it off, now” she groans. “Please.”

“Yes my Queen” he hastily twists her around and puts both his hands in between the cords of the corset. 

He bends forward to bite at the shell of her ear, with a deep growl he rips open the corset and frees her. She takes a deep relieved breath as the constricting fabric falls to the floor.

His hands wrap around her body and come up to cup her boobs through the thin shift she is wearing. His face is pressed into her neck, kissing and licking.

“Finally” he groans.

He turns her back around and takes a brief pause to look at her.

“You are the most beautiful woman to have ever existed” his hands hold her by the waist.

She can feel her face heating up at the compliment and the way his eyes are gliding over her body.

Because she can feel his love, a love so strong that she thought only existed in the books. She can feel his desire warming the room, the castle, the whole world. 

Dean. Dean Winchester even if it isn’t the one she yearned for, Dean is looking at her like she was a miracle…

And her own love seems to be making her glow. Every cell of her skin shining with a burning desire, she stares back at him, panting slightly, free of the corset… free of hiding.

“Dean” she says as she puts her hands on his armored chest. “I want to see you, feel you, please.” 

He nods his head and works off his belt, the fur overcoat and chest plate soon follow. Her fingers find the strings of his leather shirt and unties them quickly so he can slip the shirt over his head and push his pants down his very muscular thighs.

They are both standing in their underwear now, chest heaving and eyes dark. She looks him in the eyes as she starts untying the very last cords of her shift, his eyes are fixated on her delicate fingers.

She drops the shift to the floor and sees him swallow hard. He drops on his knees in front of her and holds her hips, his face leans forward so he can kiss her stomach.

“My Queen, you are more beautiful than the sunset” he keeps kissing her stomach and her hand finds its way into his golden brown locks.

“Stand up Dean” she waits for him to stand up before she continues.

“Take off your clothes” she orders in what she doesn’t realize is her royal voice.

He simply nods and obeys her order, taking off his white shirt and underwear. Her eyes glide over his chest, and sees a familiar symbol, he also has the anti-possession tattoo. 

She steps closer to him and her fingers trace it, with a confused look.

“It is the Kingdom’s crest” he answers her unasked question.

She looks up at him with a smile and takes his hand to her hip where her own tattoo is. 

“In my world it is for protection” shivers run down her spin as his thumb runs over the small tattoo on her soft skin.

Her eyes inspect him further, how can she not, the man she dreamed of for years is naked in front of her, well almost him…

Her hands glide over the many thin scars and bumps, it reminds her of her Dean. For each scar she imagines another story how her warrior hunter must have earned it.

His hands glide up her sides, a little frown when he touches a long scar on the side of her ribs.

“I am a warrior” she states, “Your Queen won’t have as many scars as me.” 

“Your skin is so soft, even softer than I imagined” his voice is low and carries this tenderness in it she hasn’t heard before, it reminds her of her Dean when he is patching her up.

“I want you Dean” her hands glide down his broad shoulders and chest, over his strong stomach to his very hard cock and wraps her hand around him. “I need you.”

She can feel him twitching in her hand as he moans at the feeling. She starts to slowly pump him in her hand, enjoying his shape, weight and size, and imagining her Dean in her fingers, biting her lips.

His hand cups the back of her neck and pulls her closer for a passionate kiss, she can feel him letting go, she can feel the love in his kiss, the love he has for her.

He walks her back until the back of her knees hits her big bed behind her and drops down on it , making her let go of his impressive length. She watches him as he stands in front of it, his hand replacing hers around himself.

He looks at her with dark eyes as he pumps his cock like he couldn’t miss the friction for a second. 

Loving the effect she has on him more than anything on the world, she gives him a wicked smile and spreads her legs. Her hand goes down to caress her own folds. A little chuckle escapes her as she sees his eyes widen on her.

She bites her lip and pushes two digits inside her tight core and a moan of his name escapes her. 

“Dean…” suddenly she feels his strong fingers wrap around her wrist to pull her fingers out.

“I need you, now” he growls as he takes place between her legs.

She takes his cock and threads the head through her slick.

“Yes… P-Please” she’s panting already.

“I am here my love” he wraps his hand over hers on his cock and guides himself inside.

“O-Oh Lord…” a strangled groan brusts from his throat as he splits her open.

“F-Fuck De… Y-you’re” her eyes squeeze tight at the stretch of his girth. “S-so big.”

She takes a deep breath, focusing on the feeling of him. A little pain mixed with an intense pleasure, and the waves of ecstasy making her sweat. 

When she relaxes around him, her walls throbbing, it feels like he reaches places of her body she never felt before. 

“Y-you are rather tight, my Grace” he leans over her, caging her head between his arms as he bottoms out. 

She wraps her legs around his hips and pushes him even deeper.

“Take me Dean, m-make me yours, let go baby” she wraps her arms around his neck and holds him close, afraid that he’ll disappear.

He pulls all the way out, leaving just the tip in and slams back in her with a strangled groan. 

She moans loudly, head going back, mouth wide open. He quickly reaches out and covers her mouth with his big palm.

“Ssssh, my love. No one can hear us.” 

She nods under his hand as she understands the problems it would bring if they got caught.

He thrusts his ships again, a little less hard this time. But so deep inside her, he reaches spots no one ever did before, he feels like no one ever did, like love. 

She is biting his shoulder to keep quiet, teeth, lips and tongue as hungry for him as her core is, tasting him and testing his strength… She pulls him flush against her, his sweaty chest on her, skin rubbing skin in the most delicious way.

His thrusts become faster and she lifts her legs higher on his waist so he can go even deeper. 

“Y-Yes Dean… Fuck I’m s-so close.”

“I… me t-too” he moans into her ear, she can feel him redrawing but she wraps her legs tight around him, caging him.

“N-No inside me, p-please” her pussy walls are fluttering around his twitching length, ready to receive his cum.

He tries to resist a second, groaning in her neck, barely fighting her legs keeping him deep. He must never have let go this way, she knows that, but she needs it, she needs him completely. 

“Come baby” she insists.

At her words, he comes hard inside her, she can feel the ropes of cum shooting against her walls, painting her insides white.

“D-Dean.. Y-yes” she holds her breath to contain her loud moans when her orgasm hits her hard, but bites his shoulder when she fails to do so.

He buries his face in her neck, putting his lips around her skin but doesn’t bite nor suck, she thinks because he wouldn’t dare to mark his Queen.

“Y-Y/n…” he moans in her ear.

Panting, caressing each other’s sweaty skin, they come down. 

She strokes his back and lifts her head to see what she is feeling. His back is covered in many, thick white lines, deep scars that are the reminders of his horrible past, and of the danger they are in.

The whips…

Her hands stop and she swallows hard, a sharp pain reaching her heart. 

“No, please continue. It does not hurt anymore, please I need your touch” he pleads with her in a vulnerable voice.

“Yes…” she agrees. “Dean…” she continues in a hum of his sacred name.

After a few minutes of the most delicious silence, she feels him move and hesitate.

“What is it ?” she asks in a soft voice. 

“I… I am afraid of…”

“I can’t get pregnant” she cuts him. “I have something to control that.”

He frowns and looks up, searching her face.

“I will have to explain that to you” she smiles.

His hands caresses her side and his face falls in the crook of her neck again, his perfect plump lips leaving little kisses on her neck. And in the perfect transe of him, she feels herself finally relax totally, and her mind ease.

“Dean ?” she chants, almost sleepily. 

“Mh ?”

“Can you stay ?” she whispers, holding him.

“You are safe, my Queen” he states against her temple. “You can fall asleep. I am here.”