#printing has been around for over 2k years there is SO MUCH.

[antisisyphus]

if you could pick the met gala theme what would you choose??

[jaembun]

let me show you love.

his favourite subject always has been & always will be you ！⠀⸻⠀na jaemin x gnr ⠀ fluff est. rs ⠀ cw tiny bit suggestive ⠀ wc 2k ⠀ now playing . . ☆

생각⠀having nana withdrawals

jaemin was synonymous with the click of his camera.

it followed him wherever he went, on all outings he could get away with, and on the ones he couldn’t he found his phone to be a worthy enough replacement. for him it seemed to be something of a second nature—he simply had the feeling of what would look perfect, of the best moments to snap a photo of and immortalise forever. he barely had to think before he was raising the viewfinder to his eye and nudging things just so until he was satisfied and pressing the shutter.

his collection was a wide one, one that spanned over too many memory cards to keep track of. he kept all of the ones he’d acquired over the months in an old jewelry box some earrings you’d bought him for a past birthday present had come in, and had decorated it in cat stickers and tacky plastic gems and sharpied scribbles in all of the bright colours he could find.

the photos themselves were of anything that had caught his eye in that moment in time. his cats, the view from the balcony of his apartment overlooking the rest of the city, the stolen split seconds he wanted to keep from your trips together to all sorts of places, the food that he’d eaten, all of your friends both individually and as a whole, always laughing and always painted in such a light you could almost feel the love he had for them all pouring out from the screen. it was anything he wanted and differed from day to day, never staying consistent for too long.

there was only one overarching theme, one thing that was always there. the one thing he had more photos of than anything else. and that was you.

you were—in his own words, whispered into your ears on more occasions than you could count on two hands—his forever muse. it’d be impossible to scroll past five photos he’d taken without one with you in them, even if it was something as small as your blurred hand in motion in the corner, the back of your head in amongst a crowded room, your silhouette turning towards him against the setting sun. jaemin’s work revolved as much around you as it did everything else, and he was never reluctant to make it known. 

you didn’t mind, of course. you were happy your boyfriend had found something he so obviously had both a passion and talent for, and put in so much love into doing. it only got a little embarrassing when it came to him printing out his favourites and you were forced to look at countless amounts of yourself in all sorts of places in all sorts of angles all while jaemin cooed over and smiled adoringly at them. it had taken a fair amount of convincing (and an even larger amount of affection) to get him to move the photo of you opposite him at your one-year anniversary dinner, a glass of wine in one hand while the other covered your mouth as you burst out laughing at something he’d said, from the hallway where anyone who walked into your apartment could see to the spare room that he’d made his impromptu study.

the only other problem you had with him using you as his main subject was when he’d choose to snap the pictures. he insisted you looked gorgeous in all of them, no matter what time it was nor what you were doing, and he was so earnest about it that you almost believed him. it didn’t make it any less jarring when you heard the all-too-familiar click whenever you were least expecting it, though.

it came when you were doing the most mundane of things, like catching up on a drama donghyuck had recommended to you while lazing around on the sofa; afternoon sun spilling into the living room.

the main leads were arguing over something or other on screen, all in front of an audience of unfortunate extras. it panned over all the clearly uncomfortable characters witnessing the messy lover’s tiff and your eyes were suddenly drawn to one that looked an awful lot like your boyfriend. the scene cut away again, but you reached over with a groan to where the remote had been carelessly tossed to rewind and pause on the frame.

once it had stopped you called over your shoulder towards the kitchen, where jaemin was most likely throwing something together for a late lunch.

“babe, c’mere. doesn’t this guy look just like you?”

you heard his footsteps moving in your direction, but he didn’t respond, and so you hoisted yourself up to tilt your head over the back of the sofa to see what he was doing.

click.

although your line of sight was currently tipped upside down, the sight of jaemin with his camera in hand was still perfectly clear. you doubted your dirty look came off as very intimidating from your position, but you gave him your worst anyway before shifting upright again to face him.

“is it glued to you, or something? i don’t think anyone could look good upside down—and that includes me.”

he shook his head in vehement denial of your claim, letting his camera fall onto the cushions and flinging his arms around your shoulders.

“you always look good, silly. even upside down, or sideways, or all blurry. trust me.”

you sighed and wrapped your arms around his waist, reluctantly agreeing.

“fine, i’ll let you have it this time. but you didn’t answer my question—doesn’t he look just like you?”

his eyes flitted from yours to the still-paused drama, and his face morphed into an expression of vague disgust.

“did you just say he looks like me? oh my god, no. not in a million years.”

you scoffed and pulled away from the embrace, instead patting the space next to you as jaemin continued to pull faces at the unknowing side character on screen.

“alright, drama queen, it was just a thought. come and sit down, though. i wanna see who wins this fight.”

he hurried to comply, collapsing down next to you and almost immediately making room on your lap for his head after carefully setting his forgotten camera on the coffee table. you reached for the remote again, and carried on with your lazy afternoon in the sun.

or sometimes it came in the moments that were far less boring. the second instance (and arguably the worst) that came to mind was an evening after date he’d surprised you with after what had been a long week for the both of you. the lights were low in your shared bedroom as you stumbled through the door, jaemin practically clinging to your back with hands on your hips and breath hot in your ear. he nudged the door closed with his foot and tugged you to face him, his smile clear as day even in the dark.

you walked backwards towards the bed, trading kisses and a brief moment of laughter when he almost tripped over the jacket he hurried to shove off of his shoulders, and the way he cushioned your fall onto the mattress even if you both knew it wouldn’t have hurt a bit made a smile stretch across your lips.

his own grin was pressed into your skin when he felt your fingers fumble with his top button, and he slowly pushed away to take over the job. you closed your eyes, anticipating your boyfriend to return to your space soon, but instead—

click.

your eyes shot open, and there you found jaemin with his shirt half off and camera in hand, grin visible even from behind it. 

“na jaemin. you cannot be for real right now.”

he had the decency to look a little sheepish as he brought the camera away from his face, one hand setting it down on the bedside table while the other raised in surrender.

“sorry, baby. couldn’t help it.”

you stayed unaffected to his attempts to lighten the mood again, allowing but not reciprocating the kisses he peppered across your face in apology even if you could see him biting his lips to try and hold back his laughter. it didn’t take long before he cracked, trying to muffle the sound into your shoulder despite his own shaking from the force of it. you rolled your eyes and tried to ignore the smile creeping across your own face, pushing yourself to sit up while jaemin settled himself in your lap, the occasional slightly hysterical-sounding giggles still bubbling out of him.

“you really know how to kill the mood, jaem.”

you weren’t actually irritated, not really. it was more a feeling of incredulity at how awful his timing was, if anything. you couldn’t ever really get properly mad at jaemin if you tried—something he knew as well as you did, and so only laughed again at your jab, cuddling in closer and tangling his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck.

“yah, i said sorry. wine and a drama instead? we still haven’t finished sky castle.”

and, as it always seemed to go with jaemin, you were powerless to do anything but agree.

but, really, it was anywhere—no matter the time nor place. when you were barely awake, hair falling into your eyes when you pushed yourself up from where you’d been buried in your pillow and shirt riding up your stomach when you reached to scratch an itch on your shoulder. before you could say a word or blink the sleep out of your eyes you heard a familiar click, and groaned.

“jaem. you have enough unglams of me for a lifetime, cut it out.”

your complaint was paired with a blind swat in his general direction while you rubbed your eyes and shifted to sit up. he dodged easily, snickering, and the next thing you heard was the thud of his camera hitting the mattress and the warm body of your boyfriend dropping himself on top of you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder while his hands settled on your hips. 

“unglams and you don’t belong in the same sentence, baby. bedhead looks sexy on you.”

you sighed, hands idly tangling themselves through his hair until your gaze drifted to the object sitting ignored on the bed and flung a hand out towards it, jostling jaemin in place. he whined in protest but stopped when he tilted his head up to face you and, instead of you looking back at him, was met with the lens of his own camera.

a few seconds passed without him moving, lying there unblinking until you huffed and jerked your knee up to nudge him in the stomach.

“you’re supposed to smile, jaem. or at least pose a little.”

that got him out of his short-lived daze, and he complied with your wishes; sending you a bright smile. your finger pressed down on the shutter, and as soon as you’d taken it you were pulling it away from your eyes so you could look at the photo. what greeted you was jaemin in all his glory, smile wide and eyes drifting off somewhere above the camera—to where you were behind it. they looked so soft as they gazed up at you it almost knocked you over, and just as quickly as he had earlier you discarded the object to cup his cheeks in your hands.

“you’re so..”

you trailed off to pinch his skin between your fingers and watch him squirm away, only returning back to his position once you’d reluctantly let go.

“so what?” was his eager question, smile looking more like a smirk. 

you refused to give in, giving him nothing but a flat look in return.

“gross,” was your apathetic answer, and you had to hold back a smirk of your own when his complaints instantly began. served him right.

and as he continued to whine in his place sprawled across you, you reached for the camera again to take a second look at the photo—at jaemin. you decided quietly then that you really didn’t mind being his ‘forever muse,’ even if his timing wasn’t always the best. 

or rather, you didn’t mind on one condition: that, occasionally, he could be your muse too. maybe you should look into investing in a camera of your own.

[comfort-writing]

Crayons and Cassettes

Chapter 7: Kindergarten Graduation

You are a kindergarten teacher. Eddie’s daughter, Sage, is in your class. Sage finally graduates from your class.

warnings: this fic will be 18+ in later chapters- minors DNI!! no use of y/n. (please let me know if I missed anything)

a/n: a short but important chapter! btw idk why the cover art has a weird filter on some of the pics- it wouldn’t let me remove it so please bear with me. I am a humble writer, not a graphic designer lol. canva is a bitch. anyways, enjoy! let me know in the comments or my asks if you want to be added to the tag list! requests are open!

word count: 2k

Chapter 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 11 || 12 || 13 || 14 (coming soon!)

After the party, you been trying to schedule time for yourself to relax or take a break. You originally didn’t think it would help with your anxiety because you thought that while you were ‘relaxing’, you’d be worried about work, but once you allowed yourself to shut your brain off, the breaks really helped your anxiety.

Throughout April, you helped your kids do everything they’d needed, and by May, you’d gotten news that every single one was going to pass your grade. You called Eddie that night, excitedly explaining that all your kids, including Sage, did an excellent job. You finished out the semester, relieved and proud of their accomplishments.

On the last day of school, Hawkins Elementary held a kindergarten graduation. All the parents and families were invited, and the kids had their very own tiny caps and gowns in emerald green and gold. You’d printed out certificates, writing small stories and well wishes on the back of each one so when they grew older, they could look back and read about what they were like at such a young age.

The morning of their graduation, you’d dressed in a kind of casual black dress and platform sandals. You wore rainbow clay earrings for a pop of color, and had your hair tied up in a clip. Today was supposed to be a little more dressy, as there would be lots of photos and parents, so you’d wanted to make a good, lasting impression.

You got to school early that morning, tidying up your classroom and finishing up the portfolios of all of your students work that they’d completed during the year. You’d kept all the projects, knowing that some parents would like to keep these things forever. You’d packed the portfolios into a rolling bin, and headed down to the cafeteria, ready to help set up for the day.

You, along with the other kindergarten teachers, the principal, and a janitor, cleaned up the cafeteria, set out snacks and coffee, and made sure the sound system was working. The principal had brought a Polaroid camera to take photos of the kindergarten class, so you helped him set it up and test it out. You’d made a silly face as he snapped a photo, and once it developed, the two of you laughed and were ready for everyone to come in.

You opened the doors to the cafeteria, propping them open, then opened the access doors near by so the parents could walk in. There were already a few waiting, so you welcomed them as they walked in. You then guided the kindergarteners to the ‘backstage’ area, or really, just behind a small space behind the curtains on the small stage, and helped them zip their gowns over their clothes and place the caps on their heads. Once they were ready, you instructed them to find their name on the tape on the risers and sit in their spots, to which they complied.

It felt bittersweet, helping all the kids you’d helped mould over the past year for the last time. You’d still see them, of course, in the hallways and in town, but this was your last time being their teacher.

Around 9am, all the kindergarteners were in place and the parents had settled into the cafeteria tables, so you, along with Mrs. Robinson, gathered your little diplomas and stood near the middle of the stage as the principal began his speech, kicking off graduation.

He discussed how much the kids had grown and learned during the year, and how proud he was of their hard work, as well as yours. He continued on and talked about how he looked forward to working with the kids next year, and how he hoped he’d never see them in his office, which got a laugh from the parents.

He then began to read off the names in alphabetical order, and each child walked across the stage, received a little diploma from you or Mrs. Robinson, and took a photo with their respective teacher. After the photo, you hugged every one of your students, and instructed them to go back to their seat on the riser.

When Sage’s name was called, you heard Eddie whoop loudly, and Sage ran to you, hugging you so tight it took your breath away. You laughed and hugged her back before taking your photo and sending her back to her seat.

Once all the names had been called, the kids all stood and took a class photo, then moved their tassels from one side to the other. The parents and staff clapped and cheered, then the students were dismissed to their parents. The principal made a small announcement to see the teachers for their portfolios and to distribute their individual photos.

You’d set everything up on a table, and began placing their photos on top of their portfolios. You greeted each parent, discussing how well each of their respective children did and that you’d hoped that you’d see them in the fall.

Eddie made his way over to your table, holding Sage in one of his arms and her little cap in the other. Her curly hair was a bit of a mess from the cap, and he set it on the table to mess over her hair to fix it. You smiled and greeted him, like you would any other parent, still trying to seem casual in public for now. He went along with it, knowing the drill by now.

Sage pouted, “I don’t wanna go to first grade.”

Eddie laughed, “Well, kiddo, I really want you to.” Only the two of you knew what that really meant. “You wanna grow up big and smart like your teacher?” He asked

Sage sighed and buried her head in Eddie’s neck, mumbling a small, “Yeah.” You and Eddie chuckled at that.

“Here’s her portfolio. It has all of the work she’s done this year. You can keep it or throw it away- but it might be nice to have when she’s older.”

Eddie nodded and took it from you gladly, along with the photo of you and Sage. He smiled fondly at the picture. Sage had a huge smile across her face, and you looked gorgeous. He wanted to frame it and keep it forever.

“Thanks.” He smiled. “Can I call you if I have any questions about registration for next semester?” He asked. The two of you spoke in code at this point.

“Of course.” You smiled.

He hugged Sage close and whispered at her to say goodbye to you, to which she looked up sadly and gave the tiniest, saddest wave in the world. You placed your hand over your heart, thinking the scene was so sad and cute, then said goodbye to Eddie. He turned and walked out of the cafeteria, Sage still pouting into his shoulder as he reassured her that she would see you soon.

You turned back and got the rest of the parents and kids sent off on their way, then cleaned up with the staff. You walked back to your classroom, feeling the emptiness of the hallways, and sighed once you entered. You erased the board completely, gathered the rest of your things, then turned out the lights and locked the door on the way out.

Once you arrived home, you walked in the door and heard the phone ringing. You quickly rushed over, picking it up.

“Hello?”

“Can I come over?” Eddie asked, sounding like a little kid on Christmas morning.

You laughed, “Right now? Aren’t you spending the day with Sage?”

“She’s with Wayne. He got the day off work to spend it with her. So, can I?”

“Are you sure? You don’t need some alone time to brood? Your kid just graduated kindergarten.” You teased.

He groaned, “You’re absolutely going to be the death of me. Please.”

You giggled. “Alright, Eddie. You can come ove-“

He hung up the phone as soon as he’d received your confirmation, and you held the receiver to your ear, listening to the dial tone for a minute before cackling. You knew what was about to happen. You couldn’t help but be excited, but geez, this guy was chomping at the bit. His excitement made you giddy too, though.

About ten minutes passed, and you were sitting on your couch, feeling a bit anxious, but not in a bad way. You tapped your foot on the floor, petting Pencil for reassurance. You heard his van screech into your driveway, and in under a minute he was knocking fervently on your front door.

You laughed and yelled, “It’s open!” Within seconds, he was walking into your house. He was beaming, and he kicked his shoes off quickly before practically jogging to where you were on the couch. Pencil scurried off, and Eddie plopped down next to you, facing your direction.

“Will you go out with me?” He asked quickly, smiling and out of breath, getting right to the point.

You laughed and pretended to contemplate it, “Hmm… I don’t know… I’m not so sure. I might have met this guy who wants to take me off into the sunset or something?” You joked.

He groaned and grabbed your shoulders, smiling like a mad man, “You are infuriating!” He laughed, shaking you lightly.

You laughed too, loudly and genuinely. After a moment, you looked into Eddie’s beautiful, brown eyes and smiled, “Yes, Eddie. I will totally go out with you.”

He melted in front of you and leaned forward, kissing you like a man starved. You couldn’t help but giggle against his lips as you attempted to kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. The two of you shared a giddy kiss, not being able to hold yourselves together. After a while, the two of you separated and he sat back a little, calming down from all the excitement. “God, this school year was way too long.”

“I agree. Let’s make sure Sage is never in my class again.”

Eddie nodded, chuckling and wincing, holding his ribs, as they were sore from laughing too much.

You smiled and leaned onto his shoulder, “So, where are you taking me, Romeo?”

He laid his head on top of yours. “Anywhere. Everywhere.”

You smiled as he grabbed your hand and squeezed it gently. You noticed how small yours felt in comparison. “I mean for our first date.”

“You’ll see. Does tonight sound okay?” He asked.

“Wow, jumping right on into it, aren’t we?” You teased.

“We’ve wasted enough time being all secretive. I’m ready to show you off.” He smiled.

“What if the date doesn’t go well?” You asked, squeezing his hand.

“Well, we’ve got about a million more to go on, so the first one doesn’t have to be perfect.” He explained, squeezing yours back. “But it will be. Trust me.”

You nodded and hummed, enjoying his company for a while before asking, “What do I wear?”

“Something pretty nice, but comfortable.”

You nodded, not really knowing what to expect from him. The two of you stayed cuddled up on the couch for about half an hour before he sighed and made a move to get up. You released him, though you weren’t happy about it.

“Sorry, beautiful, but I’ve got to go. I have a hot date tonight.” He smiled, standing up.

“Oh yeah, with who?” You smirked.

He bent down and kissed you chastely, “Just the most amazing girl I’ve ever met. It’s tonight at 8.”

You couldn’t fight the blush that rose in your cheeks and you shoved him away gently, “You’re such a sap.”

“Yeah. You like me, though, so what does that make you?”

“Touché.” You glared.

He threw you a wink before slipping his shoes back on and leaving your house.

Finally. It was all starting to click into place.

Tag List: @mcueveryday @bebe0701 @emma77645 @edsforehead @manda-panda-monium @nina211544

[lunarheslwt]

Hi! I'm back with the first 28th appreciation fic recs of the year! I wanted to put together all the fics I've read and loved over January for this month's 28th appreciation, so here they are! Click on the links for full tags and summaries. If you read any of these make sure to show the authors some love by leaving kudos and comments!

🌿Is it a sign? by @greenblueish

(25k | E | deaf character au)

the one where Harry meets a certain handsome alpha at his sister's wedding and learns that speaking verbally doesn't have to be the only means of communication.

Thoughts: incredibly sweet, a perfect light and easy read, the way they connect in this story just feels so real and so wonderful!

🌿Stroke of twelve by @larry-hiatus

(2k | E | new years eve pwp)

He was close, he was so close, and he knew it was much too soon; the countdown to midnight hadn’t even begun yet.

Or the one where Louis wants Harry to hold off his orgasm so they can come together at the stroke of twelve on New Year’s Eve.

Thoughts: so bloody hot, top notch desperation, for some reason I was holding my breath till the countdown hit one which really says something

🌿Whoever, however by @brooklyn-babylon / @twopoppies

(8k | E | amateur porn filming au)

Louis could feel his heart rate pick up as he positioned the camera and Harry slowly stood up. They both knew what came next –– it had been clearly outlined in the advert Harry answered. The studio Louis worked for was filming a new series of camboy videos. Louis’ job was to make it look like amateur porn –– sweaty, sensual, dirty –– but well lit and edited. He was an artist, thank you very much.

—-

Or: Louis has a much better day at work than he’d expected.

Thoughts: incredibly hot, desperate Harry is so >>>> the descriptions in this are amazing, I just love the idea so much. The visuals!!

🌿Pretty miscalculations by @hellolovers13

(5k | E | Dom/sub pwp)

After rudely interrupting Louis’ Christmas shopping, Louis offers Harry a choice and an opportunity to try out his new purchases.

Thoughts: so hot, love how caring L is yet willing to push Harry a lil, how sweet and shy Harry is, I'd read more in this universe any day

🌿Take care by @sun-lt

(4k | M | service top L)

“What do you want, then, beautiful?” It’s a silly, cheesy pet name, but it feels so very true when Louis says it. He hopes Harry knows that he means it, that he means every pet name he’s ever called Harry. Doll, beautiful, love, baby.

“Want you to take care of me,” Harry repeats.

_

Or, Harry’s exhausted and needy and Louis loves him entirely too much to ever say no.

Thoughts: the softest thing I've ever read, incredibly comforting, tender and so so lovely pls go read!

🌿in the pub that we met he’s got his arms around you by @onlythebravest

(13k | T | best friends to lovers au)

Harry's best friend Louis comes to visit him where he attends uni, meets Harry's friends, who point out that they don't know what platonic means.

Thoughts: comfort read!! Incredibly soft, realistic friendship dynamics, 10/10 read if you're touch deprived tbh these are very soft boys and a very soft story

🌿Sweaty palms and racing hearts by @onlythebravest

(1k | G | first date au)

A short story of two shy, nervous and blushing boys on a date at the cinema

Thoughts: so pure, so sweet, these shy boys have my heart, the author writes fluff in the softest ways

🌿Printed against the sky by @larrysballetslippers

(4k | M | non sexual age play, canon compliant)

after some intense weeks of promo, Harry really wants his daddy. Louis happily fulfils his needs, but it wasn't the best day to do so.

Thoughts: everything she writes is gold, this is so pure, and so very sweet

🌿Lust for life by @maroonmoonlouis

(32k | E | 1970s Hollywood starlet au)

or the 1970s au where the pressure of being an aging starlet begins to weigh heavy on Harry's heart before he meets Louis

Thoughts: a gem!! Very much sucks you into the era and story, so much preciousness in this little beauty!

🌿Bless you! by @neondiamond

(2k | G | kid fic au)

Harry and Louis’ young daughter, Ava, really enjoys when Harry says ‘bless you’ after she sneezes.

Thoughts: the most precious little fic ever, so so so sweet and it made me smile bless

🌿All the lights are sparkling for you, it seems by @thebreadvansstuff

(3k | T | disaster birthday au)

Harry is determined to make Louis' birthday count, but his plans turn into a fiasco.

Thoughts: so fucking precious, I could hug Harry in this, sweet and funny

🌿the prettiest customer (and the cutest barista) by @onlythebravest

(1k | G | awkward coffee shop flirting)

Louis is the pretty customer that comes in and orders hot chocolate while Harry is the cute barista that takes his order.

Thoughts: so very precious, awkward shy Harry has my whole heart, the cutest lil thing you'll ever read

🌿Leather over lace by @larry-hiatus

(4k | E | pwp)

Harry wasn’t planning for his trousers to rip on stage. He also wasn’t planning for everyone to see his lace knickers when it happened. But what he really wasn’t planning on was his boyfriend punishing him for it.

Thoughts: so fucking hot. Begging y'all to go read it. Em deserves so much credit for how quick this was and how unbelievably good it was.

I probably would've read way more too but the second half of that month had me using all my free time to finish up my own fic. But anyways if you check these out please show the writers some love. @ writers: kisses for y'all bc I appreciate you and your work sm 💗

[the-likesofus]

Fanfic Origin Story

Tagged by the most incredible: @shortsighted-owl, @thosetwofirefighters and @monsterrae1

i'll be honest, my early fandom years are pretty blurry and I was kinda late to the game (perks of living in a sheltered home with limited internet) but I will try to answer as best I can.

What was your first fandom (reading and/or writing)?

my first "fandom" was probably teen wolf (tv) or at least that's where I first remember learning words like 'OTP' but the first fandom I wrote for was Fairy Tail (anime)

What was the first story you ever wrote (even if it was never posted) and what made you decide to write it?

technically the first story i ever wrote was for my little brother about a magical tractor. i was about 9 and I typed it, printed it and found clipart tractor pictures to glue into the 'book' but I've been creative writing for my whole life pretty much and used to publish original stories on wattpad (I have not been back to that dark scary place in literal years)

What’s a piece of advice you would give to your younger fic-writing self?

there are so many different kinds of fic and you don't have to write the next best 20 chapter long fic with the most profound and original story for it to be loved by readers/the fandom. Write the 2k fluff fic or the 500 word angst drabble!

What’s an early fandom interaction that stuck with you (be it a nice comment, a friend you made, a fic that got a lot of feedback etc.)?

i haven't had many fandom interactions pre-911, I was very much a lurker in fandom. I joined a discord channel for an anime ship (Obiyuki from Akagami no Shirayukihime) and I made one really really good friend when I was writing kpop fic. But 9-1-1 is the first time I've had fandom mutuals and friends who seem to know and recognize my writing and I have @loveyourownsmiilee to thank for that. From the first time Juju reblogged and commented on one of my early buddie fics it was like being excepted into the 911 fam 💜

Post a sentence or two from one of your older fics, and a sentence or two from a newer one (if you want).

a snippet from an older fic:

Then quick as a flash and before she can react his long, slim hands, the same ones she watched, so carefully sharpening the knife just hours earlier, are around her throat. He has flipped her over, her back now against the mattress, pushing her down into the springs. He is leaning right over her, his eyes wide and wild. But glazed as if he still believes he is dreaming.

Slipping Through The Cracks (obiyuki)

a snippet from a newer fic:

Shit. He's beautiful. Buck's cheeks are flushed pink and his lips are parted as he breathes heavily. His chest is heaving and it brushes against Eddie's with every odd breath. His curls spill off his forehead, damp with sweat and curling around his ears and Eddie feels pulled apart. 

"Eds," Buck whispers. 

"Buck." He replies. 

"You're sitting on me." Buck snickers and suddenly Eddie is all too aware of where his knees rest on either side of Buck's hips, of their thighs pressed against each other, of Buck's eyelashes as they brush against the delicate skin beneath his eyes, fanning out dark and gentle. 

Crushes, Shivers and Bruised Knuckles (buddie)

I'm not sure who has and hasn't done this yet but I'll tag @loveyourownsmiilee @wheelsupin-five @bekkachaos @lilbuddie @spotsandsocks and @elvensorceress. And anyone else who would like to do it feel free it tag me xx

[kaoarika]

Since I have been reshuffling and reorganizing stuff in my room since some time ago (but has been not exactly too motivated to do much), I recently strumbled with a paper sheet of something I printed a decade or so ago, which was on my stash of “try to find the rest if the other page comes by” on my bookshelf. And I cannot believe how much time I wasted in looking for it because I was intrigued about it.

Thing is, it’s also from those times that I think I printed almost whatever, wasn’t happy with the thing I intended to print and perhaps I either drew on it, or recycled it for homework,, or it’s highly possible I trashed it. A decade or so ago.

So, I still have some loose pages of stuff I printed, but I will never find the rest, lol.

But this particular one is interesting to me for some reason. I have been on a binge of trying to come with organizing ideas of a possible future thing for my AU characters (and by future, I actually mean possible after-canon stuff, since I don’t have much of a set ground for their storyline after a year or so of what I do have planned right now), so, sometimes? writing memes is the best I can organize ideas about them. In fact, it has been a practice I had been doing for years, but since I don’t have too many OCs to begin with or really didn’t fully explore them more than I should’ve had (including my ocxcanon charas), I never really shared them publicly.

I have a few good ones from Tumblr that I have compiled in the years since... and then there’s the DA ones.

Tbf, I haven’t gone fully through DA since pretty much the start of the last decade, and just very recently (the past 4 years) I have been using it more as an art archive than anything because, as time goes on, many of the people I used to follow there don’t use the platform anymore (and I also unfollowed maaaany people I shared an interest with ages ago, but that was way before 2018), and there’s little interactivity I have with other users there these days, as well? When I was younger, I did find many memes quite fun to look at, even though part of me wanted to do some of these because I wanted to “belong” somewhere, and so, and so. As, you expect, many of these, back in the day, were pretty simple, not too deep, and it reflected the age of OP when doing them.

SO. in my vague memory, I recall doing this particular one with a few OCs I had back in the day, I tried to be “funny” (it was supposed to be in form of an interview... but again, you could tell a teenager wrote those questions), and I remember it being a little... lame |D. The thing is, I THOUGHT I had the whole thing printed... not just a piece of it. So I was “well, I COULD try to search the whole thing, right? It’s a very silly meme, and I thought google searching or searching through DA was going to be somewhat easy if you wrote a VERY specific sentence. GUESS WHAT. IT WASN’T.

I DID have a few clues about the period it came from (around 2009~2010) given the OCs I used there, but I also weighed the possible outcome of “well, the user I ‘stole’ this tag meme from probably deactivated their account ages ago”. But I didn’t consider how an absolute hell is searching through DA these days (they really need better search filters) and Google... don’t seem to cover much of writing deviations (as Journals technically count as deviations since the early 2010s). SO, yeah.

And all for a silly and somehow lame writing meme I wanted to fill just for my own pleasure and amusement.

I had to be very specific with keywords, and when I was starting to narrow the results (from over 2k towards 700... towards 500) I finally came with it. And WOW, it was as juvenile and lame as I remembered it was, but even so... I wanted to have my fun with it, you know?

And so. Compared to the simple answers OP filled it with... or my poor written ones from 10 year or so ago... I went FULL on it.

Maybe I won’t share it (not as a meme format, at least) for the foreseeable future, but gdmn, how this drove me nuts for a whole evening.

[fiskergorman64]

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[rainbowhao]

Renjun Fic Recs

A/N: Most of these recommendations contain mature/explicit content, so please be sure to read the warnings beforehand!

Annoyingly Cute  (1k)

You had no valid real reason that any of your friends could understand for why you liked Huang Renjun. He wasn't nice to you or pretty much anyone for that matter. But he was handsome, and somewhat pathetically, that was enough for you.

Lucky Strike (2k) 

Unfortunately, most of your friends are either off-campus or don’t have the space to spare. Except for your friend in acapella club, Renjun. Knowing he lives on-campus, at the end of your practice, you explain your situation and inquire if you can stay with him tomorrow evening.

Wifi (2k) 

He sinks down further into his nest of blankets in an attempt to stop the feelings from taking over his chest, but to no avail. Renjun has a total, major, embarrassing crush on his roommate.

Keeping Me Human (4k) (ft. HC)

“Oh, don’t pay attention to him,” you intertwine your arm with Renjun’s. “He’s just trying to make you jealous so that you notice me.”

“Notice you?” He shakes the hair out of his face, tilting to give you as much of his arm as you need to balance yourself.

“Well, notice my feelings for Renjun, to be exact.” You gasp. “W-wait, shit. You’re Renjun.”

He holds back his chuckle, though he’s pretty sure his heated cheeks reveal enough. At least you won’t remember his reaction in the morning.

All I Ever Wanted (4k) 

When you still refuse to open your eyes, terrified at this point to face your feelings, you hear Renjun sigh. His hand moves on your arm, and you expect him to withdraw, to walk away from you like you’d done to him earlier. But instead you feel his fingers against your cheek, brushing down to your neck.

Shotgun (8k)

You’re not sure what happened, but your feelings for Renjun knocked the wind out of you last year on the walk from his front door to your car. In a short moment he went from ‘Renjun, awkwardly long-limbed friend of a friend that has cool hair’ to- ‘Renjun, boy with really pretty lips who doesn’t love you back’.

Glad I Could Be of Service (10k in total--series)

Watching you walk away, Renjun licks his lips, feeling like his entire mouth was full of cotton. It was as if he hadn’t drank water in days, and you were an oasis. He couldn’t fathom how he had never met you before.

Baila (11k) 

Renjun’s hand stays around the curve of your hip, steadying you whenever you lose balance. If it was possible for him to burn a palm print onto your skin, it probably would happen with the way his grip seemed to tighten with every count.

The Art of Innocence (11k)

You blamed this stupid pact that the boys had. If they’d never made the pact, then you wouldn’t have been dragged into helping him lose his virginity, then you would have never realized your feelings for him, and things would be how they used to be.

Through the Lens (11k)

he hardly even knew you and here you were, asking for a favor with this puppy dog look in your eyes. you were practically begging for him to accept your offer. of course, renjun loved taking photos, but it was obvious that he wasn’t too comfortable around lots of people. and a parade? hell, that sounds like a shit ton of people. yet, despite that voice in his head that was yelling at him to decline so he wouldn’t be forced into an uncomfortable position, he found himself lost in how hopeless you looked. how you wanted nothing more than for him to say yes.

Happier Than Ever (16k)

Huang Renjun is your brother’s best friend, though. He grew up with you and watched you change into the girl you are today, with high goals and her brother away in college, and if you said his company was all you needed from him to study well, he was ready to let you even live in his room, if that’s what you needed.

Fifty Shades of Paint (17k) 

“so let me get this clear. you want me to paint your ass and legs to leave them imprinted on a canvas?” renjun brought the hand that was holding his brush down, turning to look at you, disturbed. “a new, perfectly clean canvas?”  

Service Call (24k)

you hummed to yourself as you go to stalk her social media pages, seeing pictures of her and renjun together. renjun was quite pretty, and looked as handsome as ever. you began to wonder why she would want to break up with someone who was quite literally any girls dream. it was puzzling, but there was no going back now. she already paid, and you already agreed. turning off your tableside lamp, you let out one last yawn before closing your eyes and preparing mentally for your next job. break huang renjun’s heart in the nicest way possible.

FIC RECS BLOG

[parkers-gal]

omg i love your styles!reader fics (and your writing in general, you’re so talented) !! can you do blurb where tom and styles!reader have been married for like a year or two and they tell their families that they’re expecting and then maybe flash forward to when the baby is born and harry cries meeting them?

combined requests: hi can u do a dad tom and reader. and they have a baby shower for the reader. I love all your story’s btw:)

wc: 2k

requests are open (love you // hope u like this)

—

“Are you excited?”

“I’m nervous.” You let out a measly laugh while Tom’s left hand moved from gripping your thigh to hovering above your lower abdomen.

You weren’t showing yet, of course. It had only been a few weeks since the two of you had found out. Two years into your marriage and the two of you had discussed to start trying for a family. You’d never told anyone that, so you expected the announcement to be quite a surprise for everyone.

Tom was a very private guy, especially growing up in the public eye. His family was off limits, and the minute you came into the picture, that trait only amplified. Now that you were married, he’d been a bit more private about his marriage life, especially around his family. It was a weird dynamic at first, because Tom is a very open man who loves his family very much.

But he also knows his family isn’t a private one when it comes to the media, and involving you would mean every aspect of your life would be outed. And he didn’t want that, so the two of you weren’t ridiculously close with either of your families.

It was a weird detail, really. One you didn’t really notice until a year after your marriage.

It was even weirder, however, that there happened to be an entire week where both your family and Tom’s family were available for a lunch date. Harry was usually writing an album or prepping for a tour, and you were glad he kept himself busy. Tom and his younger brother would usually be working on a project together, so having everyone home was exciting and nerve wracking.

“They’re all gonna know we’ve had sex.”

“I think they knew before,” He chuckled at your reaction, mouth ajar while you slapped his upper arm playfully.

“Who’s fault is that?”

“Sure, blame the guy who knocks you up.”

“Okay, mister.” You shuffle his curls, which are arranged messily for a Saturday.

Fifteen minutes later and the two of you are walking into the Holland household. You can already hear your brother’s minged shouts and hollers about whatever conversation he must be having with Harry, Tom’s brother. You’re quite certain you’ve never seen such a British interaction.

“The all-star couple is finally here!”

“Hey!” Harry drags out the end syllables while he brings you into a sloppy hug. “Baby sis.”

“Don’t ever call me that again,” You laugh at his tone, the words foriegn for him.

“Yeah, that was weird as fuck the minute I said it.”

You glanced over to Tom, who was hugging his brothers and his mother. You grinned as you made your way over to them, embracing them just as he had before linking your hand with Tom’s and sitting in a patio chair beside his.

“How is everything in your married-life?”

“Low-key, really.” You admitted, it was true. The first few months had been exhausting yet fulfilling, but now you felt yourself settling down for the long run. Tom could feel it too, especially with the unannounced baby Holland on the way.

“Yeah, mum,” He bit into a snickerdoodle. “Not much going on for us.”

“Didn’t you just wrap that upcoming film?”

“The London one, yeah.” He nods along and you get lost in conversation with Sam and Elysia. They’ve been together for quite awhile, and you suspect their own wedding might be within the near future.

You’re about an hour into the lunch when you make eye contact with Tom, communicating without words. He stands up, wiping his hands off on a napkin before pulling you up.

“We have… some new to share.”

Eyes glance up to the only two people standing at the table, and Harry (your brother) swallows a bite of bread before encouraging you. “Well, get on with it then.”

Your mom whips the back of his head, and you laugh. Gemma chuckles at them before glancing at you inquisitively. You’re very open with her, but from the look on your face, she knows this is something nobody else knows of.

“We are very happy to announce….” You start it, but urge Tom to finish what you cannot.

“That the newest member of the Holland-Styles clan will be coming by the end of this year.”

You watch as mouth’s drop open in the final realization at what this means. Gemma sits back in her chair, left hand above her chest, against her shirt with wide eyes and mouth ready to catch flies. You smile in excitement, and Nikki and your mom stand quickly for hugs, pushing their chairs back as they scrape against the concrete of the backyard patio.

Tom’s hand is linked to yours still, and when you momentarily let go, you feel almost abandoned and lost without him.

After a few rounds of accepting ‘congratulations!’you realize your brother has yet to move from his seat. When you glance at him after everyone’s settled back down, he’s looking in his lap. Gemma catches on, and so does Sam. Eventually, all eyes are on the Styles boy.

“Har?” You speak hesitantly in the tense situation. “You okay?”

When he picks his head up, he sniffles and you notice his red eyes. You jutt a lip out as you hear a few of the girls vocally “aw” at his state. He stands quickly, chair scraping just as everyone else’s had, and he makes his way over you.

You get lost in his embrace, hugging him tightly. He’s still crying slightly as he whispers a few words into your ears. He’s emotional upon realizing he’ll be an uncle in just a few months, emotional upon realizing you’ve grown up so much from the little girl that used to rub frosting on his nose and dimples.

You rub his back soothingly, and when you separate he gives you a weak smile. He maneuvers around you to hug your husband, who chuckles when he’s embraced roughly, tightly. Their hands are each on each other’s back, and a memory flashes in your mind, one of your wedding, when Harry cried so much you had to ask someone to buy more tissues.

You’re nostalgic about today’s encounter, and you don’t know what to expect when the baby really does come.

**

You’re seven months along, baby bump big as ever. Tom’s almost as protective as Tessa now that you’re so far along. As far as cliches go, you’ve just arrived to a basically surprise baby shower. You know it must’ve taken Tom weeks to plan something like this, and it must’ve been even harder to keep it a secret from you.

You kiss his forehead when you finally see why you’re at his mom’s house. Both yours and his moms are conversing in the corner after greeting the two of you. There’s a table of presents beside a snack area. You can see a few of your craving-snacks, and you hug Tom as best you can. He kisses your temple.

There’s not many people here, only your closest friend circle and your family members. You see Harry and Gemma in the corner, and make your way over to your siblings with a smile. You're swollen with the baby bump, so you’re not moving as fast, but you’re just as excited.

“Baby on the way,” You announce as you hug them. “Thanks for doing this, guys.” You blush as you gesture to everything around you. Harry shrugs with a cocky smile, and Gemma smiles lovingly. You see Sam and Elysia heading towards you, and Gemma makes her way to the snack table for some lemonade.

“Y/N!” Elysia drags out your name in excitement, hugging you carefully. “How is everything?”

“Ugh,” You groan jokingly, a hand rubbing up and down your bump. “Exhausting, really. She’s a handful.”

She smiles, and Sam’s hand stays on the small of her back as she leans into him. He excuses himself momentarily, and you lean in close to Elysia when he’s gone.

“Are you two engaged?”

She looks at you with a blush before shaking her head. “No… but I feel like he’s going to propose soon.”

You squeal and try your hardest not to cry. “Man, these hormones are crazy.” She laughs, nodding along. Unbeknownst to you, Sam had made his way over to the two older brothers of the Holland family. They’re sipping beer by the patio sliding door.

“Hey, guys.” The boys look up at the sound of Sam’s soft voice. He’s almost hushed, and they use context to realize he looks a bit serious.

“What’s up?” Harry’s hand pats his shoulder as if to comfort his anxious state.

Same turns his head to look at Elysia, who’s across the yard talking to you. “I think I’m going to propose soon.” Tom nearly chokes on his drink. “What? Man, that’s amazing!” He’s whispering out, breathing erratically from excitement.

Harry stares out, blinking in surprise. He’d seen in coming, but that would never amount to the realization that the Holland boys are growing up. “Do you have a ring or something?” They huddle close as Sam brings them closer in response to Harry’s question.

He pulls out a velvet box from an inner-jacket pocket. When he opens the case, they gasp in awe.

“Man,” Tom pats his back again, lovingly. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you, man. I’m nervous.” He wipes his hands on his thighs as he hides the ring in his clothes again.

“Don’t worry.” Harry glances over at the two of you. “She loves you so much. You’re gonna get the happy ending.”

They continue talking until your mum, Anne, announces it’s time to open a few presents. You reunite with Tom for the first time since arriving, trying not to come off as too flustered, but you know you are. You know you’ll cry — and dramatically too, because your hormones are off the radar — if anyone gives you a really meaningful present.

You open a few, some just basic cleaning supplies for diaper-care, others range from cute clothes to bedding sheets. When you open Harry’s gift, it’s a CD case with a picture of the Styles family on the cover.

When you open the case, you see a message in print. He’d written you a few songs, for Tom and the baby too. You nearly burst into tears as you stand up as quickly as possible. Tom helps you stand while you make your way over to your older brother, hugging him as if your life depends on it.

“You’re gonna be a great uncle, Harry.”

***

When they said the birth process was painful, they didn’t mention how much. Tom fainted about an hour and a half into it, after glancing where he shouldn’t have. You laughed while the doctors got him standing again. He was by your side for the entire time, and when you finally gave your last push, the two of you heard the wales of your sweet baby girl.

“Did so well, love.” You’d heard him whisper while he kissed your sweaty forehead.

Seven hours later, you were sitting up after having just slept for a good amount of time. Scarlet was sleeping calmly in your arms. Tom was squeezed onto the bed next to you, arms carefully wrapped around your exhausted body. He’d cried four times already.

“Ma’am, your families are here.” A nurse had come into the room with a small smile before opening the door wider to allow visitors in.

Harry and Gemma were first up. They’d been here the longest, having received a call when they were closer to the hospital than everyone else.

You glanced up when you heard Harry gasp. “She’s beautiful.” He whispered, tip toeing over to the bed, seating himself in one of the chairs.

“C- can I hold her?” You nod, handing him the small child. He graciously takes her in his tattoo covered arms, holding her head cautiously while he coos at her. She wakes momentarily to giggle at the new arms. He visibly pouts, and when you notice water on Scarlet, you grow worried.

But all of that is washed down the drain when you see Harry’s red, teary eyes. He smiles happily, even through the tears, and you breathe out a laugh through your own cries.

“She looks just like you.”

You wipe a tear away, reaching out to hold one of his hands.

“Just like you.”

[caiuscassiuss]

oppa! | ot7 (prologue)

Description: Being raised by a caring yet distant father, a close, tight-knit family is the one thing you have craved in your short life. After your adventurer father remarries a rich woman, you’re stuck with seven new brothers. Seven very hot, very different men. 

This is not what you meant by family.

(Based on the anime and game Brother’s Conflict, but with a twist.)

Prologue

Genre: Fluff | romance | later angst and smut. PG

WC: 2k

Warnings: For this chapter, none other than cursing.

(After some readers wanted me to post Oppa! on Tumblr, I have delivered! I really hope y’all like this haha)

[ The prologue delivers hints on who each brother will be. These hints will be bolded. Some will be very apparent, some will not. ]

Rubbing your head, your eyes glazed over the notes you took from yesterday’s lecture in preparation for today. Were you on drugs when you wrote these? It looked like chicken scratch. Was that drool in the corner?

Your ears perked up at the strains of loud music coming out of your friend’s Airpods. Hyerim, your closest friend at University, seemed oblivious as she bopped her head to the hard beat. Several classmates around the lecture hall noticed too, yet weren’t as accommodating as you and sent judgemental looks towards Hyerim.

“Hyerim,” you whispered, aware that class was starting in a few minutes. She didn’t respond, still nodding along to the music.

Pursing your lips, you plucked the small pod out of her ear. “Hyerim, your music—”

She gasped, eyes lighting up in excitement. “You liked it? Okay, so I was listening to this random rapper on SoundCloud—”

“Your music's too loud —” you hissed.

“—but the real feature is the producer, who made this beat. His name is Yoongi—” Hyerim continued on obviously, caught up in her own world.

“—that’s lovely, but can you turn your music down—” you pestered, looking around worriedly.

“—but his producer name is Gloss and he’s so talented and hot and his voice —”

Seeing the majority of the seats in the hall being filled up, you clamped your palm over her lips. She let out a whimper, finely shaped brows frowning at you.

“Have you not noticed the five separate glares you are currently getting at this moment?” you said between gritted teeth, enunciating each constant hard. You stared down each person around you who was giving Hyerim looks and, embarrassed, they averted their eyes and busied themselves with something.

“Oh wait, what?” Hyerim exclaimed. Closing a fist over her AirPod, the music continued and her eyes widened as she realized how high she had turned up the volume.

Hyerim turned to the person on her other side. “I am so sorry,” she said apologetically, the random student smiling awkwardly in acceptance.

Rolling your eyes with an unbidden smile poking at the edge of your lips, you turned back to the disaster of your notes. How were you supposed to understand this lecture when you barely wrapped your head around the last one? However, you honed in on your Calculus woes to ignore how your phone burned in your pocket and the latest text you got from your father...

So focused on your lamentation, you didn’t notice the boy behind you clear his throat. Nor did you notice the second or third time he did, each one getting progressively louder. As you attempted to retrace the argument on your paper, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Excuse me?”

Whipping your head around, you craned your neck upwards to see where the tap had come from. To your surprise, you saw a very cute-looking boy, bangs pulled into a top knot, smiling apologetically at you from behind you.

“Hi! Yeah, do you need anything?” you smiled.

A blush rose on his chiseled cheekbones and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m super sorry to bother you about this, but I dropped my charger right next to your chair. I- uh, would you mind—?”

“Of course! No worries, it happens,” you comforted, bending down to get the coiled white wire from where your bag sat. “Here you go.”

He got up from his seat to hunch over the lecture hall desk to meet you in the middle. You eyed the large difference between each of your hands’ as you handed back the charger, as well as how huge his shoulders seemed up close.

“T-Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” you replied, turning around to open your laptop.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hyerim’s mouth partially open in disbelief.

“You need something?” you prodded.

“I—” she took a glance at the boy behind you, as if confirming something— “I’ll tell you later.”

Shrugging, you zeroed in at the lecturer at the front of the hall.

“Alright, so what was that about?”

Your Calculus lecture had just ended, and the two of you were in the mob of students leaving the lecture halls to get to lunch.

Hyerim looked surreptitiously around, black bangs swishing around her face. She leaned in like she was about to share the juiciest piece of gossip, and you unconsciously did so too.

“Did you know who that is?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

You felt your forehead crease and you gave her a look. “No, I did not.”

“Really?!” Hyerim pitched her voice high in disbelief.

You gave her a dry look.

It was her turn to roll her eyes. “Sometimes, I swear you’re in your own world, Y/N.”

Incredulous, you opened your mouth to argue but she waved a hand in front of you.

“That was Jeon Jungkook, Y/N! How do you not know him?”

“Oh yeah,” you snapped your fingers. “He’s that Streamer dude, right? He games and shit.”

Hyerim nodded slowly.

However, you frowned. “I heard he was intimidating and cold and stuff. Are you sure that was him? Charger boy was super nice.”

“That’s the point! It was Jung Jungkook and I have never seen him acting this soft. What did you do, ma’am? Snap him? Flash him?”

“Who do you think I am?” you sputtered. “All I was doing was thinking about how much I hated Calculus, not— not seducing someone!”

Your friend gave you a suspicious look, but decided to let go of the topic. Shaking your head, you walked past the gates of Yonsei university and into the city proper on the lookout for your favorite food place. The beeping of horns, buzzing chatter, and the small of smog filled the air as you zig-zagged between side streets to avoid busy roads.

“Excuse me,” you muttered as you pushed your way through a mob of women all entranced by something above you. Since they were not moving, you huffed and decided to see what was worth all the hype.

It was a huge, flashing LED billboard that was the central focus of the square. On it, a very sensuous looking man with blond hair and a velvet, tight-fitting suit doing some very slick moves in a dark concert hall.

Happy Birthday Jimin! It read in bright white font.

“Wah, oppa is so handsome!” a woman, who must’ve been 5 years older than the man on the screen squealed behind her white medical mask. “I’m so glad our ad turned out well.”

Her friends agreed and ooh and aahed along with her. You turned around to see if Hyerim was following you but she stood, entranced, with the mob of women on the sidewalk.

“You can thirst over him later, preferably when I am well fed,” you snapped irritably, pulling at the pink flowy material of her blouse.

She pouted but acquiesced, taking your hand as you dragged her though the intersection. All you were focused on were some good dumplings, after the mental aerobotics Calculus had forced on you and the emotional stress your father was putting you through. As you turned the corner, you breathed a sigh of relief as you saw no line.

Nestled between a large office building and a parking deck, this tiny Japanese restaurant was a favorite among Uni students for its cheap prices and good food. You usually had to arrive here early to beat the line of students and office workers that gathered here for their dinner breaks.

The cute sign that said Umaido flashed brightly above your head as you entered the restaurant. To the side of the main sigh, a smaller print reading “by the RM Group” glowed, subdued.

Waving over a pimply teen, you ordered two servings of gyoza and waited for Hyerim. She ordered a very conservative meal of sushi and some salad, and you both watched the waiter retreat. Something glossy caught the attention of your eye, and you saw some magazines on the shelf next to your head. The main one in the middle, which looked like a new age artsy publication with a cult following, was simply titled with a white V at the bottom corner.

Like a robot that was powered off, you collapsed in your seat and put your head in your hands. You really did not want to look at your phone.

“Was Calculus really that bad?” Hyerim winced in sympathy, neatly patting your head.

“It isn’t Calc,” you mumbled. “It’s Dad.”

Her expression turned down even more. “What happened?”

Lifting your head from your arms, you propped your chin on your palm and looked out the window. “You know, you’d expect for someone to give you important news in person or at least over a phone call, right?”

“Yeah?” Hyerim asked, lips pursed in confusion.

“Like, if you got remarried or something , you would at least tell your loved ones in person or at least over the phone, right ?”

“... Shit, Y/N.”

Fumbling for your phone in your bag, you ignored the notifications and pulled up your latest conversation. “Look what he texted me this morning!”

Hyerim took your phone and scrolled through it with a manicured fingernail.

Dad : I wish I could call you, but I’m somewhere with limited service.

Dad : I just wanted to let you know I got remarried to this amazing woman, Kim Seoyeon, a few days ago. We met and just clicked, something I haven’t felt since your mom.

Dad : She has seven sons, all of them are grown up. I’m worried about you living on your own, so I’d like you to move in with them. Details coming soon. Love you.

Hyerim was speechless, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I’m sorry, what?”

“My dad has gotten spontaneously remarried to some random woman and now wants me to move in with her sons. Like, geez, it’s not like life changing news was delivered to me in less than a hundred words!” you hissed, voice getting higher and tinged with a bit of hysteria.

“Your dad sucks,” Hyerim pronounced, taking a pointed sip of her iced water. “Seriously.”

“Hey, my dad is not that bad,” you defended. “It’s just… he’s a bit distant. Absent-minded. But he’s cared for me in the best way he could.”

“You and I have very different definitions of what constitutes good parenting, Y/N. This man left you largely on your own since you were five, and now he gets worried about you living on your own? Something's not right,” Hyerim retorted.

Ignoring her in favor of the food that arrived, you practically inhaled twelve of the fried gyoza. Rolling her eyes at your typical running-away behavior, she primly dipped a piece of sashimi in soy sauce and took a dainty bite.

“So? What’s the plan? Are you going to stage a rebellion and stay in your apartment, or go stay with some random men?”

Your response was cut off as cheers broke out from the corner of the restaurant, where a large group of men and women were huddled together.

“Cheers to our National win!” a man announced, his face already a bit flushed. “To Neuron!”

“To Neuron!” the group cheered loudly, and lifted up their shot glasses in celebration.

“To our leader, J-Hope!” the same man pronounced brightly, some sake sloshing over the tip of his cup.

“Hoseok!” the group whooped louder, more rounds going around.

As their cheers quieted down, you turned back to Hyerim. “I don’t know. I think I’ll decide when I meet them. They could either all be idiots or they could be chill. I really hope for the latter.”

“Good plan, good plan.”

An awkward silence permeated the booth since both of you were at a loss to say something.

“Onto lighter things, “ Hyerim forced out brightly, clapping her hands. “Let me tell you about my younger brother’s really hot doctor. His name is Dr. Kim and he’s tall and…”

As Hyerim continued to babble on about the tall, handsome pediatric doctor, you felt a buzz in your pocket.

Dad: Their address is 111 Hannam-dong, Yongsan-su

Dad: They’re ready for you.

Can you guess who each stepbrother is and what they do? Comment below!!

Arc 1: Stepbrother Introductions will be released on February 15th at 8pm ET. It’s about ~15k words of getting to know these boys. Please look out for it!

[applejongho]

cherry on top | choi jongho

genre: fluff, realistic fiction, humor

character: starbucks employee!jongho

description: Jongho has an interesting run-in with a Karen during his shift at Starbucks.

word count: 2k

warnings: mild swearing

author’s note: jongho as a coffee barista was swimming in my mind for quite some time, so here he is. 

masterlist here!

There was something about that coffee stain on Jongho's employee shirt that made it impossible to get rid of. It was likely the mix of the ingredients that had stacked the receipt when it was printed, but Jongho couldn't help but feel she had somehow planned this as he scrubbed harder with bleach.

Jongho wouldn't have guessed the day to turn out as it did, but maybe he should have. Working with the public was always a gamble, but Jongho's optimism blinded him. Most customers were nice enough. Most customers gave a smile when he handed them their overpriced coffee. There weren't too many comments about his red and black hair, and he could shrug off all of them. The compliments were what he remembered.

The day started off normally - with Jongho's coworkers nudging him towards the mound of bagged coffee beans. "I could do it myself, but you just do it quicker, you know?" One of his coworkers had whined, twirling a piece of curly hair around her finger. "It" was picking up the bags of coffee beans to put into the grinder, and Jongho didn't mind it.  As he slung a bag over his shoulder with ease and glanced at her, he could swear her face flushed. Perhaps it was just the sun. The sun hit her face like that when he broke apples in half with his bare hands too. It was strange how the universe liked her like that.

After his bean tasks, Jongho took to the drive-thru of the coffee shop. He was told he had a nice voice, but he doubted he sounded that heavenly through a cheap speaker that hadn't been changed for five years. Nonetheless, Jongho enjoyed doing the drive-thru and taking orders. When there were multiple drive-thru lanes open, he would challenge his coworkers to see who could get through orders the fastest. This caused him and his coworkers to resent vans - vans almost always meant there was a large order - a sure loss, unless Jongho's fingers could learn to dance very quickly on the ordering screen.

Taking orders via the drive thru took up his morning, and then he was released for his lunch break. His coworkers had become accustomed to bringing him apples for the sole purpose of him to break them. He didn't mind, and it allowed him to be more comfortable with his coworkers because he could sometimes be shy. "Is that why part of your hair is red?" A coworker had asked him one day after he had broken multiple apples in a row. Jongho shook his head.

"No. Just red," he shrugged, ignoring his coworker's eyebrow raise. "I just like the color red." He thought he looked good with it.

But not everyone agreed - there were some customers that liked to point it out, like he had never seen himself in a reflection before. "You missed the roots," an older woman had told him at the register and gestured to his hair. Jongho added fifty cents to her order.

But for this day in particular, his hair was the reason for his downfall. For the latter half of the day, Jongho would be at the register. He yearned to be in the bar making drinks because it could become so mindless at points, but he was placed in front of the register before he could say anything. He assumed it was because he was the longest working employee out of the staff today, and Jongho vaguely remembered a newbie was working with him. He guessed the manager didn't want them at the register. The register wasn't much different than the drive thru, but there was something about actually seeing the customer or touching their cash or credit card that made it not enjoyable for Jongho.

About an hour into working at the register, Karen walked in. Jongho saw her and his stomach dropped. She looked exactly like a Karen should look: bobbed blonde hair with caramel highlights that were too dark, opaque and round sunglasses, an obnoxiously pink phone case, and a tacky red American flag shirt that said something about how America was blessed. Jongho knew he shouldn't judge people so quickly, but he had dealt with this breed of women before. He had to brace himself for the worst and the unexpected.

"Hello, ma'am," he said cheerfully when Karen got to the front of the line. Her dark sunglasses obscured her eyes, but she was clearly paying attention to her phone instead of him. She suddenly realized she was in Starbucks and lifted up her glasses. She took one look at Jongho's name tag.

"Hello, John," she said, and Jongho had to bite his tongue to keep from making a noise.

"Jongho," he said.

"John," she continued, and listed off her order, Jongho begrudgingly typing it in as she spoke. It's not that hard of a name, he thought to himself as he kept typing. Why was Karen's order so long? Jongho kept translating her vegan, dairy-free, blood-of-firstborn, extra-expresso venti iced coffee into the system until she stopped talking, and even then she wasn't done.

"So is everyone your age just dying their hair like that?" Karen said without prologue. "I'd never let my kid dye their hair like that. It's so unprofessional."

"Thank you," Jongho said, dodging the question and not wanting to provoke her. He hoped his cheeks weren't also red. "Here's your total. Cash or credit?"

Karen pulled out her purse, but not without clicking her tongue in annoyance. "You all really should lower the prices. It's too damn expensive."

Then make your own, Jongho wanted to reply, but he held his tongue. "I wish I could," he said with a smile. Karen frowned in return, and, without warning, dumped her entire coin bag onto the counter. Jongho yelped and scrambled to keep flying pennies and quarters from rolling off of the counter. In the corner of his eye, a coworker ogled Karen.

"I used the bills to buy my groceries, so I'll pay in coins," Karen yawned while Jongho threw himself onto the floor to make sure no coins had reached there. He got up, plastering on a fake smile. He hadn't had a customer like this in a long time, but if he could just get through her, everything would be okay. He reached for her quarters first and began counting dollars. He knew for a fact that his manager wouldn't have tolerated this kind of behavior from a customer, but Jongho knew he could be too soft at times. Besides, her jangling keys on her wrist glimmered and showed off their sharpness. He swore he saw her teeth glimmer as well.

"Hurry up," Karen said after a few seconds. "Count faster."

Jongho considered shoving pennies into her eyes. "Certainly," he said, and tried to pick up his pace. He could feel her eyes burning on his neck as he shoved the change into the cash register. He pushed her receipt over to her and eagerly began with the customer behind her, glad to be ridden of her.

But his escape was short lived. He heard a whine from the corner of the store and knew it was the Karen immediately. He was currently helping out a different customer, but there was no one else in line behind them. He'd deal with it after the customer if things escalated with Karen.

"Are you sure you made this correctly?" Karen snarled at Jongho's coworker, her nostrils flailing. The coworker looked like she wanted to sink into the floor. "This doesn't taste like how it usually does. Make it again."

Jongho wouldn't have done anything - customers asked for drinks to be remade frequently. But this was Karen, and upon further inspection, this was the new employee that his manager had talked about. He couldn't leave her hanging, it would be rude as an older and more experienced employee. Jongho finished ringing up the final customer and went over to Karen and the other coworker.

"Cherry head," Karen growled, and Jongho only raised his eyebrows. That was a new one.

"I'll make a new one, ma'am, sorry," he said, taking the drink from her. "I'm sure you were fine," he muttered to the worried coworker and was pleased to see her smile.

Iced coffee wasn't difficult, and with the lack of new customers Jongho took the time to make sure the drink was entirely accurate. It's not that she deserved a drink, it's that he wanted her out of the store as soon as possible. He even had the temperature right, and gave it a perfect dairy-free whipped cream swirl at the top before handing it back to her.

Karen ogled the drink for a moment, looking back and forth at the cup and Jongho. Then she threw the drink at him.

The whipped cream top hit Jongho square in the face and he could taste it. Then came the slow and cold trickle of the coffee down his apron and shirt underneath, and at that moment, he was so glad she hadn't ordered anything hot.

"I said I didn't want whipped cream!" Karen bellowed, but Jongho's choir practice had made him desensitized to loud vocals. He wiped the whipped cream from his face and looked at Karen straight in the eyes.

"Get out," he said coldly. "There's a Dunkin across the parking lot. They can have your coins." He paused for a moment, and then his mouth twitched upward. "My name is John, you can write me up if you want. I don't care."

"I will be," Karen growled, red-faced and clutching her purse at her side like Jongho was going to reach out and nab it. he couldn't believe Karen thought that she was the victim here when Jongho had a new fluffy white beard adorning his face.

"John's right," a third coworker said, coming from behind. He could vaguely hear his laugh under his voice. "We don't tolerate harassment on our employees. You're the one that could end up in trouble."

Karen stared daggers at this new employee, and Jongho was surprised she didn't jump over the counter to tackle him. "Good riddance, I knew Starbucks was going downhill anyway." She gave one last snarl at Jongho, who fluffed up his hair at her glance, before walking out of the Starbucks.

The three employees were silent, and then Jongho felt a towel touch his arm. "Oh my God, Jongho, I'm sorry," the third coworker said.

"I don't think I've ever been drenched quite as much as I am now," he said, accepting the towel. He began to dry himself off as best he could, but he knew his face and clothes were going to be sticky for the remainder of the shift.

"I think there's another apron in the back," the new coworker said, and then scurried off to get it before Jongho could say anything.

"I'm just glad it wasn't her that got absolutely wrecked by coffee," the other coworker murmured. "I think she might have cried."

Jongho nodded, still drying himself off. It was a terrible feeling, the coffee all over his skin and clothes, but now that she was gone, he couldn't help but smile. It was comical, how insane the public could be. "I hope John gets hell for what he did," he smiled.

"Absolutely," the coworker agreed, laughing. The new coworker arrived back with the apron, which Jongho gratefully took.

"Give me a minute to clean up," he told the both of them before going to the back to inspect the wreckage on his clothes and face. It could have been better, but it also could have been worse. He licked a part of the whipped cream that was near his lips and grimaced at the flavor. Despite it all, Jongho was amused at the situation. It kept him on his toes. It would be a funny story to share at a party. Jongho wrote a note in his phone to re-dye his red tips when he got home. Then, smiling, he returned to work.

[pynkhues]

.... any succession fic recs? 👀

Yes!! I haven't read a lot for it yet, but some of the stuff I've read has been staggeringly good. I'm generally more into gen fic in this particular fandom, but have enjoyed some Stewy x Kendall, Gerri x Roman and Naomi x Tabitha too.

A few recs under the cut!

“I wanted to get out. From under all this. Take the money and run.”

Kendall tells Stewy even though he knows he’ll never get it, not like Naomi does. He’ll never understand the crush of it, the heart-stopping head-fucking fear of failing a tyrant. Kendall’s been ignoring the shape of it for a long time, putting pieces of it together in the back of his mind in total darkness like a blindfolded man. It doesn’t matter that one day his dad will die. It doesn’t matter about the money or the hostile takeover or the stolen files or any of it. There’s no running. Kendall’s Logan Roy lives inside his head.

Stewy laughs. Stewy laughs for a long time.

“There is no out, Ken, what the fuck are you talking about? You were born this and you’ll die this. You are what you are, and what you are is a fucking Roy.”

Kendall hates him, for a moment. Lightning-strike furious. What the fuck does he know about any of it, about his dad’s swinging dinner plate-sized hands, about getting 24% name recognition in reliable international polling, about puking every time you think about a car swerving off the road in the rain. About finding out that you can do something unthinkably, unimaginably terrible, and it doesn’t matter to anyone you know but you. There’s a scar on his arm that no one else who hasn’t already been told how it got there can ever know about, and he’s sick of it, and it’s not fair. He hates Stewy for a moment because Stewy’s right.

“I wanted to do the right thing, Stewy, for once in my fucking life.”

Stewy laughs again, more briefly, and the predator flash of his eyes in the neon of the motel sign is a torture all its own.

‘There is no right and wrong, Ken. How the fuck do you not know that yet? Not for people like you. Like us. There’s shit you get caught doing and there’s shit you don’t.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You really, really fucking don’t,” says Ken, and fuck, there it is. The road less travelled, that only he has ever driven on. The path he’s down where Stewy can’t follow. That place beyond Stewy Hosseini where he never thought he could go.

“You’re not telling me something, and when I find out what that is, and I will find out what it is, Kendall, don’t you think I won’t, so I am warning you that when I do find out I am going to be righteously fucking pissed,” says Stewy, and if Kendall thought those were a predator’s eyes before—

“Yeah, you will,” says Kendall, because he knows exactly how perceptive Stewy is. Exactly how weak he is. Exactly, precisely what both of them are.

And treat this night like it’ll happen again by postcardmystery. 8k words. Kendall x Stewy. Post s2. (CW: internalised homophobia, some homophobic language)

I tried to pick a shorter excerpt, but I literally couldn’t, this fic is so. good. The voices are pitch perfect, and it’s got this incredible build to it overall that goes back and forth between time and point of views and just rips your heart out. The premise itself is pretty simple – after the press conference at the end of 2.10, Kendall calls Stewy, and they drive through rural America while Kendall has a breakdown, and it’s just - - unspeakably good. I love it so so so much, I have no words.

r/roysucks Connor’s gf just posted on Instagram (instagram.com) submitted two months ago by webbedscrum_2279 23 comments share save hide report

[–] DM_ME_SAMESMAIL 40 points two months ago I too like to escape to my yacht in the Mediterranean when my family and I are on trial for covering up rape and murder. permalink embed save report reply

AITA for accusing my father of multiple crimes on his own news station? By amleth 3k words. Gen fic. Post s2.

And now for something completely different – epistolary fic which is just reddit news threads of the Roy family drama. I love an epistolary fic and this is just totally charming, and made me laugh a lot out loud.

“You’re quiet,” she observes. “That’s a first.”

“Yeah, well, the Turks beat it out of me. Gave you a run for their money.” He waggles his eyebrows. “So what is this? Whips and chains? Are we doing the whole boat-sex thing? I heard Shiv and Tom are looking for a third —“

Gerri finds what she’s looking for: a black leather binder. She drops it on the bed and begins paging through it, and Roman cranes his neck enough to recognize that it’s just full of documents, not like, dick pics. “I’ve given some thought to what you proposed a few weeks ago, and I agree that we should make things official in some way,” she says, and he blinks.

“Uh,” he says. “Which — what part of it?”

“Take a look.”

Gerri closes the folio and hands it over. It’s deceptively heavy, and the print on these pages is way too fucking fine, he thinks, paging through it. “Is this some kind of, like, Fifty Shades of Roy sex contract? Because it’s not that I’m not into it, but I think there’s a strong argument for going paperless —”

“Strictly speaking, this isn’t legally binding,” Gerri says. “Just something I threw together with regard to our business arrangement going forward. But with no respect to the family — the past few weeks have really illustrated that no one should take anyone at their word right now. Give me a little more than your word.”

Evacuation strategies for a yacht on fire by devourthemoon. 11k words. Gerri x Roman. Post s2. Explicit.

After the events of s2, Roman and Gerri fake being married as a professional alliance, only, y’know, maybe it’s not so fake. This fic is just so, so much fun, and messy in the best possible way. The author nails all the character voices, and the sex scenes are just the right amount of hot and ridiculous, and I just love it all a lot too.

Kendall estimates it will take an hour for the first articles to go up. Some rapid-fire blog without oversight—the New York Post, maybe, or wherever those Vaulter hippies have skulked off to—will slap a catchy headline on it and report his words verbatim. Give or take a gif of his face when he switches to script number two. New York Times, Washington Post, AP, those fuckers take longer. They like to bleed the story like Middle Ages plague doctors for its marrow, fact-check and add context and analysis and as many backlinks as their servers can handle. Still, a couple of hours, and his face will be plastered on every major news outlet. His voice will play over the nightly talk shows. He’ll trend on Twitter. A few more days, and he’ll be the star of analysis segments, podcasts, weekly briefings. Maybe, fuck it, maybe he’ll trend on Twitter again.

It’s been years since Kendall read Shakespeare. But that shit sticks with you, gets under your skin and emerges when you least expect it, like eczema or Keynesian economics. He knows how the media will spin this. Kendall Roy Attacks CEO Logan for Years of Corruption. Prodigal Son Disrupts Family Legacy to Restore Credibility. That’s how Hamlet ends, right? And Macbeth, Lear, Othello, Romeo and Juliet, even Titus fucking Andronicus. The spilled blood sinks into the ground, the seedlings sprout forth from the soil, and a new castle is built on the bones. Order out of chaos, or at least close enough an approximation that the tabloids will buy it.

Legacy for profit by owlinaminor Post-2.10. Kendall Roy. Kendall through Shakespeare analogies – just - - ooooof. It's a beautiful, lyrical character study that weaves through Roy family history and teases at a future none of them are even sure they want. It's gorgeous writing.

For the next few days Shiv would have to keep the pressure on Kira like an open wound because there were other women, victims that Nate’s people were going to find one by one as soon as that phone call disconnected. Mo was her father’s friend, good friend, for a long, long time. Nate and Gil, Sandy and Stewy, too many sharks in the water and the share price probably dipped to a new low but she would never check a stock ticker. Her husband’s nerves fraying at the edges on national television. She had promised a woman she’d never met before that she would kill roughly one third of the top male executives of her family’s company. Her company.

The last look Rhea gave her before she shut the car door was concern close to fear—no longer the same woman who heard their pitch in the safe room, who laughed with her at Argestes. Rhea had only looked into the abyss; she got cold feet and she didn’t even know what it’s like to grow up in it.

Her family’s company is hers, will be hers. Even from a whale fall, new life would spring.

Feed his flesh to wayward daughters by reogulus. 2k words. Shiv Roy. Set during 2.09.

This entire fic is set around Shiv bribing Kira not to testify, and god, it is so good. It’s bleak and rough, and really hones in on the complex ground Shiv walks as a character. It's another brilliant study of what it takes to be a Roy, and the way they make the awful choices in order to fulfill this legacy that they don't even know they want.

Kendall sets down his fork. “So. Tell me. Is it everything you wanted? Is it what you thought it would be?”

Roman stills. He never does that. He’s constantly a menace in motion, slouching and fidgeting, worse even than Kendall at his amphetamine peak. “What? The view from the tippy-tippy-top?”

“His regard.” Kendall wipes his mouth with the edge of the white cloth napkin. It comes away pink from the steak. “Dad. He’s all yours now.”

Roman still hasn’t moved. Finally, he lurches, like corroded machinery come uncertainly to life. “Yeah, man. It’s fucking tight as hell. I love every beautiful daddy and me moment I was a good enough little boy to earn.” He snorts. “Fuck you.” His face goes curiously slack then, like something Kendall’s own face would do. An intermission in the performance, an energy cut. Something genuine finding its way to the surface. “Why don’t you tell me. When you got everything you wanted, how the fuck did that make you feel?”

Nauseous, is the first word that springs to mind. Sick. Scared. I’ve never had everything I wanted, there’s that. I’ve never once had a single fucking thing I wanted. There’s that, too.

Interim leadership by arbitrarily 2k words. Roman + Kendall. Post s2.

I love Roman and Kendall scenes generally, but this one which features Kendall and Roman meeting for the first time a few months after the press conference in 2.10 is just a bit magic. The push pull dynamic that's just inherent to them mixed with the genuine affection and brotherly love is really special, and arbitrarily embraces both in equal measure. It's a great little fic.

There are lots more of course, and I'd also recommend checking out other works by these authors, but I hope this is a good place to start! :-)

[arysafics]

if you're taking smut prompts rn please write one where bellamy gets spanked (by clarke obviously)

i mostly just wrote this to prove that i still can write something short and simple in under a day. so thanks for the prompt!

i'll be good (rated e, ~2k words)

He’s standing there in Clarke Griffin’s unnecessarily huge office, his pulse racing, beads of sweat forming on his brow. The huge window behind her offers him a view of the sparkling city lights, and the only illumination inside the room comes from her desk lamp. It’s well after knock off time, the rest of the staff went home hours ago.

Bellamy, however, had been forced to stay behind to finish his article for tomorrow’s issue of the magazine. Never mind that it’s Clarke’s fault he didn’t get it done on time. If she just let him do his work, instead of calling him into her office every hour, bossing him around like he’s her assistant and not one of the senior writers at the company.

He’s the one who should be sitting in that editor’s chair, not her.

And yet he still does her bidding, still has nerves churning in his belly as she reads over the final draft of his article, desperate for her approval. Perhaps she is more suited for the editor position after all.

“It’s good,” she says, looking up. “Well done.”

Bellamy breathes a sigh of relief, and he tries not to preen too much at her praise. All she said was well done for fuck’s sake. Not exactly the most glowing review.

“Thank you, ma’am” he says.

“However,” Clarke continues, and Bellamy tenses. “It was late.”

He nods, swallowing thickly. The thundering of his heart starts up again. “Yes, ma’am.”

He’s only like this with her. Agreeable. Meek. Submissive. It would embarrass him, if his co-workers knew what he was really like, when it’s just him and the boss.

With them he’s confident, brash, arrogant. He tells snide jokes about her, tells them how he was robbed of the promotion, what he’d do to her if she ever let him fuck her. He repeats it all to her later, apologetic, grovelling, and she laughs before she punishes him for it.

“You know what that means, don’t you, Bellamy?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he croaks. “You have to punish me, ma’am. I deserve a spanking.”

The thing is, he likes being punished almost as much as he likes being praised. He can already feel his cock hardening just from the implication of it.

“Come here,” she says, crooking her finger, her voice raspy but even. She quit smoking three years ago, but it left her with the sexiest fucking voice he’s ever heard.

She stands as he walks over to her, and he lets his eyes rake over her. She dresses in what he likes to call “professional sexy” for work. Tight blouse tucked into a tight skirt. Stilettos and red lipstick. She uses her femininity as a weapon, and he’s not the only one it works on. She’s a force to be reckoned with.

He stops in front of her, heart pounding, waiting for her next instruction. They’re almost eye to eye when she’s wearing heels, only the tiniest bit shorter than him.

“Take your shirt off,” she commands him, and he obeys with shaky hands. It’s not necessary really, for the punishment. But the more naked he is, the more humiliating it is, no matter how good he looks naked. Plus, he thinks she just likes looking at his chest.

She reaches for his belt, and he flushes as she unbuckles it, not breaking eye contact.

“Turn around,” she whispers. “Hands on the desk.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He can feel Clarke behind him, and his skin prickles with anticipation. She trails a finger down his spine, and he forced himself to hold still. His cock is fully hard now, straining at his fly.

She reaches around and deftly undoes his pants, then pushes them down to his knees. He can feel her soft breasts press against his bare back as she reaches around him again, her hand coming to rest on his crotch. The scent of her floral perfume fills his nostrils.

“Hard already?” she says, a teasing lilt to her voice that simultaneously turns him on and humiliates him. “Naughty boy. Sometimes I wonder if you enjoy these punishments a little too much.”

He does, he absolutely does. He doesn’t know what he’d do if she stopped. If she decided he wasn’t worth her attention anymore.

She peels his boxers away then, dragging them down to join his pants at his knees, so his bare ass is on display for her. He shivers as she runs her hand over his cheeks, and his cock throbs.

“How many spanks for a late submission?” Clarke wonders aloud. “It is your first offence. But I don’t want to let you off too lightly. Shall we say fifteen?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t forget to count them for me, baby. And no complaining or I’ll have to start over,” Clarke warns him. He nods, brain still latched onto the way she called him baby.

The first slap is quick and sharp, and he gasps at the impact. She lands a second blow as soon as he’s counted out the word one, and then a third and fourth follow in quick succession, right in the same place.

She doesn’t hit hard exactly, but tears prick in his eyes by the fifth smack, and he’s sure he must have a bright red mark on his brown skin.

“Five,” he whimpers. His ass stings, and yet it feels so good. She switches to his other ass cheek, and repeats the process, spanking his toned ass in five short, biting blows.

He doesn’t complain, just counts each slap a little breathlessly, feeling emasculated as he whimpers and whines, tears in eyes as his boss spanks his bare bottom like he’s a naughty child.

His cock is absolutely aching, his balls ready to burst. He wants her to allow him release, to touch his cock, rub him or suck him or ride him. Anything to release the tension, the tightness in his gut. But he still has five smacks left in his spanking.

The last five she delivers at random, so he doesn’t know which cheek she’s about to hit, and it makes each one more painful and more delicious.

“Thirteen,” he moans, his ass cheeks on fire. “Fourteen. Fifteen,” he gasps out, as Clarke gives him his last spank.

He’s breathing heavy, his face hot. He’s almost crying, feeling embarrassed and chastened and unbearably horny.

“There,” she says. “Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And what is that?”

“Get my articles in on time.”

“Good,” she says. She opens her desk drawer and pulls out a bottle of lotion, squirting some onto her hand. “Good boy,” she says soothingly, and his cheeks grow even hotter, his stomach swirling, his cock jumping. “You did such a good job,” she coos, rubbing the lotion over his ass, gently cooling the stinging hand prints.

He’s not sure which he likes more, the punishment itself, or the part when she rubs his bottom and tells him what a good boy he is. If he had a tail, he’d probably be wagging it right now.

She finishes rubbing the lotion into his skin, and then he feels her dainty little fingers slip into his ass crack, teasing his hole for a moment before pushing into him. His breath catches, and he lets out a moan of pleasure.

“You like that, don’t you, baby?” Clarke murmurs, pressing her lips against his shoulder as she fingers his asshole. “Love it when I play with your asshole.”

He nods, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yes ma’am. It feels so good.”

He grips the table, and it’s all he can do not to wrap a fist around his cock and start jerking like his life depends on it.

“Please,” he whines pitifully.

“Please what?”

“Please, I need to come,” he chokes out. “My cock, please touch my cock.”

“Is your cock feeling neglected, baby?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he whimpers.

“Show me.” He turns around and Clarke’s eyes fall to his massive erection. “Goodness,” she says, teasing. “Look at that big, hard cock. You need to come so bad, don’t you? Got all worked up from your spanking.”

Bellamy nods, hoping she’ll take pity on him. “Please.”

“I’m not sure I should let you come,” Clarke muses, and Bellamy wants to cry. If she pulls his pants back up and makes him walk out of here with this raging erection, he’s not sure how he’ll survive. She doesn’t let him masturbate. Only she’s allowed to make him come.

“I’ll be good,” Bellamy promises. “Please, I promise I’ll be a good boy. I’ll do everything you say.”

“You’ll do everything I say regardless of if I let you come or not,” Clarke points out. Bellamy whines, and he hates himself for how pathetic he sounds, but he can’t help it. “Okay,” Clarke relents. Bellamy’s stomach lurches, and he forgets how to breathe for a moment as Clarke lowers herself to her knees.

The first brush of her tongue over the head of his cock makes him jerk his hips forward, and she pulls back, looking up at him, disapproving.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly. “I’ll be good, I swear.”

She nods, then drops her focus back to his cock. He forced himself to stay still as she licks him all over, down the length of his cock, over his balls. She takes him into her mouth, just halfway at first, sucking him, then taking him all the way into the back of her throat, so her nose is touching his pelvis. He has to throw his head back so he doesn’t come from the mere visual of it. If he comes before she says so, she may not let him come for days. Weeks even, if she’s feeling particularly cruel.

She backs off a little, worshipping the top third of his cock with her mouth, her hand wrapped around the base. She’s on her knees, her mouth full of his cock, but she’s still the one in control, still the one with all the power. He’s helpless, weak, completely at her mercy. Which is how he prefers to be.

She lavishes his cock until he’s at breaking point, desperately trying to hold off his orgasm, and then she gives his thigh a tap, the signal that he’s allowed to come. Then she moves the same hand to his ass, pushing him over the edge with just the tip of her finger in his asshole.

He moans as he comes down her throat, hips thrusting forward against her face, pleasure shuddering though him, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

She pops off his cock smacking her lips and wiping her mouth. He collapses against the desk, his bottom still aching from his spanking.

“Thank you,” he pants.

Clarke gets to her feet, and presses a kiss to his lips. “Get dressed, baby, you need to get home and shower if we want to make the dinner reservation on time.”

Bellamy nods, but his head is still a little foggy, and he lets Clarke dress him instead.

“Are you going to be okay?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he breathes. It’s not even the best orgasm she’s ever given him, yet it still takes him a while to come back down to earth. It’s her, he thinks. It’s just what she does to him. “My ass hurts,” he admits. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sit.”

Clarke gives him sympathetic eyes. “I won’t make you sit the whole time,” she promises. “At some point I’ll need you to get under the table and lick my pussy, because spanking you and sucking you off has made me very wet and very horny.”

Bellamy gives her a lopsided grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And if you’re good at dinner, I may even let you come home with me, would you like that?”

“Yes.”

She gives him another kiss. “Good boy,” she murmurs. And he really does feel good.

[themculibrary]

Bucky And Clint (Winterhawk) Masterlist 4

part one, part two, part three

5 Times Clint Barton Kissed Bucky Barnes and 1 Time Bucky Returned the Favour (ao3) - mariana_oconnor G, 13k

Summary: The first kiss is fired like a warning shot, it leaves Bucky reeling, but he still isn't prepared for what comes next.

Bucky Barnes is not used to people touching him, so when one of his new team mates starts crossing the barriers that seem to have been erected around him, he's not sure how to react. Add in skrulls, an alternate universe and possibly the end of the world (again) and it turns out nothing is as complicated as he thinks it is. Sometimes you just have to trust yourself.

A Brick Is Not A Wall (ao3) - Ladyladylady T, 33k

Summary: Mornings at the Barton Farm were always hectic. Today, however, the house felt downright frantic. As was becoming more and more typical, Clint was away on a mission. It wasn’t just the lack of Daddy to help out with the morning rush, it was Clint being gone. Even though he knew that Nat watched his back and that Clint was an incredibly competent agent, it made him nervous. And when Poppa was nervous, the kids felt it too. Thus, they had all piled into the big bed in Bucky and Clint’s room last night, just like old times. And, in true Barton Family fashion, no one set their alarm. So here they all were, shouting (Cooper and Nate), hopping over each other (Pietro), vying for bathroom time (Wanda and Lila) and packing backpacks (Bucky) while Lucky dog danced around them, excited.

A mostly a slice of life style fic as Bucky catches Steve up on his life from the last eleven years through flashbacks as he rebuilds his family and his identity from the ground up.

A Chance Encounter (ao3) - pherryt G, 7k

Summary: Clint's on a vacation against his will. Alone.

What could go wrong?

a day of fun with bucky and clint (ao3) - samandbucky G, 2k

Summary: Steve thinks Bucky should socialize more, which somehow leads to Clint dragging Bucky out of the tower for a shopping trip.

angels warned me never to fall down (ao3) - hawksonfire E, 8k

Summary: “What’s got steam coming out of your ears?” Bucky asks, scootching closer on the couch. His toes are tucked under Clint’s thigh now, which is unfairly distracting.

“Just thinking,” Clint answers, taking another sip of his coffee.

“About what?”

“You,” Clint’s mouth answers with no input from his brain, and goddammit mouth, not again. He winces.

blondie (ao3) - luckybxrnes T, 188k

Summary: when james buchanan barnes and clint barton meet for the first time, it ends with clint in a dumpster and a broken hearing aid.

maybe it wasn't his best idea to yell at another assassian and try to fight him on a rooftop.

eight years later, clint is a little smarter and james is trying his best to be okay.

Bruises on My Skin (ao3) - pherryt T, 8k

Summary: When you get unexplained bruises appearing on your skin, you're one of the rare few to have found your soulmate. What happens to them, is echoed on you to a lesser degree - but usually it doesn't happen till you're much older.

Clint's first bruise appeared when he was five. He didn't feel so lucky.

coffee shop regulars (not so regular) (ao3) - samandbucky T, 2k

Summary: Clint comes into Sam and Bucky's coffee shop every week. He's a regular customer known as Hot Guy between Sam and Bucky. Bucky's got a major crush on him (but refuses to ask him out) and Sam loves to tease him about it.

Bucky also finds out that Clint isn't exactly who he says he is (or isn't).

Complications (ao3) - flawedamythyst E, 84k

Summary: Clint's got a plan to retire and go find himself a simple life at his family's old farm. Simple is good, right? Easy to remember. Simple is why he doesn't really mind that his soul-print has never activated, because a soulmate could only add another layer of complexity to his life.

And then the Winter Soldier turns up at his archery range on the Avengers base, and simple slips through Clint's fingers.

Post Age-of-Ultron (minus Clint's wife&kids) Soulmate AU.

Friends to Lovers And All The Dumb Ass Decisions In-between (ao3) - CaptainJimothyCarter E, 10k

Summary: Clint absolutely hates his English teacher for making him write letters to some kid in Brooklyn thanks to this ridiculous pen pal program she's making them all do. Things aren't so bad when he learns about his pen pal and how he finds it easy to talk to him.

Things aren't going so great in Clint's life in between bouncing around in foster homes, finally being reunited with Barney after the system tore them apart, and heavy depressive episodes.

He finds comfort in Bucky and his quick wit and awkward flirts.

Great Unknown. (ao3) - ClaraxBarton T, 3k

Summary: Smugglers and dragons and karaoke and space. Oh my.

That's it. That's the summary. Enjoy or suffer at your will.

half a latte and not a care in the world (ao3) - shatteredhourglass M, 7k

Summary: Clint's starting to run out of luck. A story about a coffeeshop, a morning radio show, an engagement and Bucky's first attempts at seducing the local barista, who's a little tragic but ultimately worth the effort.

if god is in the lens (ao3) - shatteredhourglass E, 40k

Summary: The Asset pauses. He remembers the first few days after dragging St- dragging Captain America out of the water, the aimless emptiness that had filled him, with no mission and no knowledge of what to do next. He’d spent a week staring at the peeling wallpaper in a motel. There had been butterflies patterned on it. He hadn’t known what direction to go in next, because he was (is) scared of Captain America, and he didn’t want anything to do with Hydra, and he’d just… stopped. That’s when he realizes Barton isn’t going to move unless he gives the man a reason to move, something to do that isn’t related to a past he can’t remember or the threat of imminent death. (It’s been burned out of him, the Asset can relate.)

A mission.

He's leaning on the button to the microphone before he thinks about it. “Come with me and you can kill more of them.”

It's Complicated (ao3) - samandbucky

Summary: Clint has never been one to believe in "soulmates", until he finally meets his.

One Last Chain (ao3) - AvaKelly M, 29k

Summary: After jumping off a cliff, Clint is offered a second chance. His first thought: kidnap the Winter Soldier.

The Best Worst Thing (that hasn't happened to you yet) (ao3) - sara_holmes M, 48k

Summary: Clint Barton likes to think that in his twenty-seven years he’s grown and matured and has learned how to work effectively with a team. However, twenty-seven years is not enough time to learn to be comfortable with Bucky goddamn Barnes.

The Holy Falls (ao3) - GreyishBlue T, 7k

Summary: Clint is tired of waiting for Barney in their shitty motel room. He's just gonna go get a few beers, stretch his legs, and not get into any trouble.

It'll be fine.

Worth Waiting For (ao3) - Lissadiane M, 31k

Summary: Clint Barton is an angry 15-year-old former circus brat with a whole bunch of grudges when he's sent to live with Coulson and Fury on a tiny farm in the middle of the country, and he has every intention of stealing the silverware and taking off to whatever prison they're keeping his brother in as soon as humanly possible. He's got no time for three meals a day, for shoes without holes in them, for making friends with cows or goats or stray dogs, or friends and found families.

A Green Gables AU.

[ohpedromypedro]

what would Christmas with max be like?

So uhh... I initially intended this to be a headcanon, but I went a little off track and turned it into a 2k word fic 🙃 Oops?

Max never really celebrated Christmas until he started dating you. Never had reason to, honestly. He has no family, that you know of at least, and he’s not much of a gift giver unless he actually likes somebody. Plus, do vampires even care to celebrate holidays? Max didn’t. Until he met you.

You changed it all for him. You’re all for the Christmas season. Decorating inside and out, the traditional picking out and cutting down a Christmas tree, baking lots of delicious goodies, sending Christmas cards (mainly to your own family and friends), wrapping of the presents on Christmas Eve, which of course the two of you wrap each other’s in separate rooms.

Max spoils you every Christmas and I mean spoils. With the amount of money his management style brings in, his Christmas bonuses are always generous on his wallet and he’s more than happy to spend it all on you. The one person in this world he truly loves and cares about.

The first Christmas you spent together as a couple, you were surprised to see Max had bought practically a whole mountain of gifts for you. He had asked you to spend Christmas at his place that year, which you were more than willing to do so because his loft apartment was a lot nicer than your tiny one bedroom apartment. What you weren’t expecting, though, amongst the many gifts Mr Max Phillips got you was a key to his apartment with a nice little festive note which read “All I want for Christmas is to always wake up with you. Please move in with me?”. You were stunned at first and your face said it all, that was a Christmas present you were not expecting. Of course you happily accepted and moved in the next day.

For your second Christmas together, on top of more thoughtful and expensive gifts from your boyfriend, Max decided to buy and name an entire new constellation after you. The whole thing was extremely romantic to you, something none of your past ex partners were even considerate enough to do for you, and it earned Max a nice romantic lay by the fire. Sometimes the best way for you to show your boyfriend your appreciation is by having your cunt suck the life from his cock and boy does he love that.

This year, your third Christmas together, both of you are more than excited to give each other your gifts. Max may think he’s more excited, but you strongly believe you have him topped. He has no idea what’s coming. Usually your gifts are just things you can buy with a simple swipe of a credit card, but not this gift you have for him. Money can’t buy what you’re giving Max this year.

Max is already awake when your eyes open first thing. He’s been lying here just holding you in his arms and admiring the peaceful look on your face while you sleep. He smiles at you when you look up at him from where your head’s resting on his chest, soft yawn leaving you as you smile right back.

“Good morning, handsome.” You murmur, leaning up to press a warm kiss to his lips. “Sleep any last night?” Your fingers gently touch his cheek and he lets out a content sigh as he leans into you.

“Morning, my sweet girl. A lil bit, yeah. But mostly I just watched over you while you enjoyed your own slumber.” He smiles, reaching out to tuck your hair behind your ear. “Ready for some coffee and opening presents by the fire?”

“You know it.” You giggle and press one more kiss to his lips before wiggling out of his hold. “I think I’ll take a nice hot shower first. Feel free to join, if you’d like.” You give him a smirk and quickly roll off the bed to walk into the bathroom. Obviously he’s going to join you. Max Phillips doesn’t turn down taking a shower with you ever, especially hot ones. He’s off the bed and closing the bathroom door behind you mere seconds after you cross the threshold, his increased speed abilities helping to get the two of you undressed from your matching Christmas pajamas and into a hot shower just how you like them. “Someone’s in a rush this morning.” You tease, slipping your arms around his neck as you gaze up into his soft brown orbs.

“I’m just excited.” He shrugs, his hands rubbing up along your hips as they pull you flush against him beneath the flow of hot water. “Why? Are you not excited for presents?” He gives you a teasing smirk, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Has my girl lost all her Christmas spirit already?”

“Gasp! Never.” You playfully pout up at him, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I just haven’t seen you this excited for Christmas morning before.” You smile, leaning up to give him a quick kiss.

“Yeah. Well, I got you the best gift this year and I can’t wait to give it to you.” He gives your ass a playful squeeze and you only narrow your eyes suspiciously at him.

“I swear, Max Phillips, if you’re talking about your dick--” You start and he only shakes his head with an amused chuckle.

“Better.”

“What’s better than your dick?” You scoff and Max only laughs harder.

“Oh, baby. I love you, you know that?” He smiles, leaning in to kiss you again. “How about we finish up in here and then I show you what’s a better Christmas gift than my dick?”

“Hmmm… Okay. Sounds like a plan to me.” You smile. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

~

“Okay, best gifts for last.” Max smiles, grabbing your final gift and setting it on the floor in front of you. “How about we open them at the same time?”

You grab his gift and place it on his lap with a smile, nodding your head as you pick your gift up from the floor and hold it on your own lap. “Sounds good to me, baby. Yours has a little card you need to read first.” You point at the little envelope taped to the box and Max smiles, tracing his fingertips over the red lipstick print sealing it with a kiss.

“I can see that…” He chuckles, opening the envelope and pulling the card out so he can read it in his head to himself.

My Dearest Max,

My heart is yours, I’m here to stay

And now I’m ready to give it to you in the forever way.

Max’s brows furrow in confusion for a moment, his eyes flicking from the card to you where you’re very slowly peeling away the wrapping paper of your gift, your eyes still set on his face. You smile at him before flicking your gaze to the present on his lap then back up at him, giving your lip a small bite. He catches the drift and sets the card aside to start unwrapping the decent sized box that holds his gift, his own gaze switching between his present and you opening yours. He doesn’t want to miss the look on your face when you see what your gift is, it’s a look he’s been looking forward to for some months now.

After unwrapping your present and setting all the paper aside, you slowly lift the lid from the box, tilting your head when you see what looks to be a special made book inside. From the looks of how oddly thick and formed it is, it definitely seems to be a pop up book. You glance warily at Max now, noticing that he’s stopped unwrapping his. “Hey, mister! You stopped unwrapping.” You pout.

“Yours is more important.” He smiles and you huff out a semi offended breath as you take the pop up book out of the box. “I promise you, you’re gonna love it.”

“I still say your gift is much better than a book.” You remark, a small, knowing smirk on your face. You examine the cover of the book, seeing that it’s definitely specially made because the two cute little animated characters on the front more than resemble you and Max. They are you and Max. You look at the title of the pop up and smile. “My Life With You”. You can’t deny it, this is quite an adorable and thoughtful gift, but you still think yours tops it.

You open the cover of the book and the first image that pops up makes your smile widen. It’s a cute little replica of you and Max outside the bookstore where you two first met. You remember that day like it was just yesterday and the memory makes your heart flutter. At the bottom of the page there are words and you slowly read them to yourself.

This little bookstore I will cherish forever because it’s where we had our first encounter.

You turn the page and the second pop up picture appears, eliciting a giggle from you at the image of you and Max under a tree sharing your first kiss during a summer night walk in the park.

Our first kiss I will always remember. You seemed so eager to kiss a vampire for the first time.

A lighthearted laugh escapes you when you read the words and you share a quick glance with Max with a knowing smile before bringing your attention back to the book and turning the page again. You feel the pang in your chest at the image of your first fight with Max, but you still continue to read on.

Our first fight I for sure thought I’d lost you for good. I let my own ignorance get the best of me that day and that’s something I’ll never allow to happen again.

You look up at Max again, unable to stop yourself from leaning forward and giving him a reassuring kiss. He only chuckles, savoring your kiss before pulling back and motioning to the book. “There’s more, babe.”

“I know. I just couldn’t help myself.” You smile, turning the page and revealing the fourth pop up. You gasp and burn up with a shy embarrassment as your eyes take in image of you and Max in a very scandalous position in the bedroom. This is definitely no children’s pop up book company. “Jesus, Max.” You giggle, reading the words at the bottom.

The first time I took you to bed is one my cock and I will remember for the rest of time. How warm, wet, and tight you were as I sank into you… Your whimpery little moans as each thick inch of me stretched you.

God, he’s already having an affect on you and he hasn’t even touched you. The littlest things like these will always have some sort of affect on you coming from him. You bite your lip as you turn the page, your eyes met with the fifth image. It’s you both during your first Christmas together and you can tell by the key you’re holding in the image.

I loved our first Christmas together, asking you to move in with me was the best move I could have made. But there’s one more first, I’ve still yet to do and that’s to make a beautiful woman’s like you dream come true...

You tilt your head at that and when you turn the final page, revealing the largest pop up of the book with Max on his knee holding up a ring, a real ring set in place in the book with large words reading “Will you marry me, my sweet darling girl?”, your eyes widen. You look back up at him now and he’s got a shit eating grin on his face.

“Oh, Max…” You whisper, tears already well past slipping down your cheeks. “Of course I’ll marry you.” You take the ring out and set the book aside, quickly slipping it onto your left ring finger before crawling over onto Max’s lap and kissing him deeply, your arms slipping around his neck as he holds you against him.

“I love you.” He murmurs into the kiss, hands holding you by the waist.

“I love you too… Now open yours, mister.” You tut, picking his present up where he set it aside and resting it on your lap. “You read the card, now open your present.”

“Alright, alright. My impatient fiancée.” He chuckles, finishing ripping off the wrapping paper and tossing it aside before opening the box and pulling out its contents. His eyebrows raise when he pulls out polaroids you took, but he quickly smirks as he gives them a quick look through. “Such a sexy little thing…” He sighs, biting his lip as he sets the polaroids aside and pulls out another wrapped gift. It’s a picture frame and inside contains Max’s true Christmas present. He shoots you a curious glance which you only smile innocently at and he grabs the wrapped frame from inside the box and tears that paper off too.

You anxiously chew your lip as you watch Max open his gift and when he really sees what the framed picture is signifying, his head is shooting back up to look at you. You were slick enough to get an x-ray image of your heart from your doctor for this gift and written in metallic sharpie are the words “A reminder of what once beat for you, now that I’m asking you to take its life essence away.” It’s your creative way of telling Max you’re ready for him to turn you.

“Are you asking me to turn you?” He already knows the answer, but he’s just so stunned that he still needs to ask for clarification.

“Yes, Max Phillips. I’m asking you to turn me. I’m ready to spend forever with you.”

“Oh, honey… I love you so fucking much.”

He carefully sets the picture frame back in the box before cupping your face and kissing you deeply again. Max wants nothing more than to spend the rest of his immortal life with you, hence asking you to marry him, but he was not expecting you to be ready for him to turn you already. He’s more than ecstatic that you’re ready to take this large step with him. He breaks the kiss after a few long moments to let you breathe and you smile up at him widely.

“Merry Christmas, Max.”

“Merry Christmas, beautiful.”

Everything tag list:

@halefirewarrior @takemepedropascal @wildcard566 @readsalot73 @talesfromtheguild  @oberynispunk @whiskeyxinxaxteacup @pedrosdoll @ah-callie @manuphantom @dornish-queen @ihaveashield @shayna-winchester @lonelystarship

Max Phillips tag list:

(None, for now)

[poirott]

This is the 2nd part of the "Riddle of the Spinx" interview with Death on the Nile cinematographer Haris Zambarloukos for British Cinematographer November 2020 issue (part 1 transcribed here). The full interview has now been released on the British Cinematographer website. I've included some of the text below!

In Part 2 Zambarloukos talks about shooting with the cast on location in Egypt and doing a particularly complex single shot of them on set, how they did the opening b&w sequence of young Poirot as a soldier, and built sets of Abu Simbel and the pyramids, the use of realtime footage projected on LED screens to make the studio sets look more realistic, what part of the Murder on the Orient Express set they recycled for Nile, etc.

Q: This was shot like Murder on the Orient Express at Longcross Studios with plates filmed on location in Egypt. Was it ever a possibility to shoot entirely on location?

Haris Zambarloukos: The issue is that 1934 Egypt barely exists today. For example, in the 1960s they moved the Abu Simbel temple 300 metres away so that the Aswan Dam wouldn't flood it. So, we built the entire four-storey high Abu Simbel at Longcross, complete with banks of water. The same with Giza and the Sphinx. In the 1930s the Nile went up to the feet of the Sphinx. Now all you see is the concrete expanse of Cairo.

Secondly, it's difficult to shoot complex shoots on a river while floating, taking all the cast down there and scheduling them, on top of ensuring everyone's safety on such a high-profile project.

Our whole design and research went into creating a set. We wanted to build a life-size boat inside and out; not to break it down into small sets but to shoot it as if we were on a boat. That’s a huge undertaking. Jim Clay built an amazing set to scale for the Karnak. It was so big we needed to build a temporary sound stage around it. We also wanted to use some real daylight when we got great sunlight in Longcross and use a little bit of water to basically film the boats carrying guests to the Karnak.

We recycled the railway from Orient and built the boat on that so we could wheel it in from outdoors to indoors. We built a very elaborate lighting rig that you could pull back and see the entire boat in one shot. You could step onto the boat and walk through all the rooms which were all lit for an analogue film f-stop. It was complicated and took most of our planning but I personally don't think you can tell the difference when we cut - even from a shot filmed outside in real sunlight juxtaposed with one in apparent sunlight on our sound stage. It's seamless because we took such great care and a detailed approach to our rig and construction.

In Orient you created some stylish direct overheads of the train carriage. You've told us of the Steadicam dance sequence in Nile. Were there other stylistic flourishes?

Inside the sound stage we went twice round the Karnak with the entire cast all choreographed for this one great reveal of a murder. It was really hard work to do. I understand why it was cut in the edit although they have kept a lot of other single long takes and there are lots of places where you see the whole cast in a single shot.

However difficult you might think setting up a long single is in terms of lighting and operating, it is equally, if not more difficult, to block a scene with multiple actors, keep the audience engaged and choreograph it in a way that is exciting and at the same time reveals things gradually. There's a lot of pressure on a lot of people in shots like that. Everyone's got to be on top of their game. Because we're all so interdependent, it's a domino effect in that the further you go in the take, the bigger the responsibility is for not getting it wrong whether that's the operator, focus puller, the actor saying the final line, the gaffer lighting a corner at just the right time. We always get excited about those shots but also very nervous.

You augmented the studio work with plates photographed on location in Egypt. Tell us about that.

We filmed on the Nile from a boat with a 14 8K Red camera array. We had a 360-degree bubble on top of the boat and two three-camera arrays pointing forwards and backwards as we travelled up and down. We specifically chose areas where modernity wasn’t present (or where it was, we removed it in post) and we also shot plates from the point of view of passengers onboard the Karnak.

VFX supervisor George Murphy edited the footage and stitched the plates together into an essentially very, very advanced virtual reality rig in which I could pan my camera. We did that before principal photography, so we never had to guess a month or so later what to put there. That’s a big help. Most shoots do their plate photography afterwards. It meant I could pretty much place the camera on any deck of the Karnak for any scene and know what the background would be.

As with Orient, did you play back footage realtime on LED screens outside the boat set?

I'd love to have done it live but on Orient we were only dealing with one wagon's windows at a time. It was still the biggest LED set-up ever done to that point, but the Karnak set is 20 time bigger than that. There aren't enough LED screens available – plus it would have been prohibitively expensive.

Instead, I went for a much larger version of a technique I'd used on Mamma Mia which was to hang back projection screens all around the boat – 200m in circumference, 15m high. We used Arri SkyPanels at a distance to create a sky or a part of the background. It could also be converted into a blue screen when we needed to. It meant that if I had a shot looking above the horizon line into the sky then it could be done in camera.

How confident were you of retaining colour and contrast from set to post?

I took stills on the recce and we used those to the create colours with this back projection for our skies. I take prints (not digital stills) so there is no misinterpretation. A still is a piece of paper that you can see. Once something is emailed across and seen by someone watching on another screen the information can get lost.

At the same time there were a lot more checks and balances put in place. We had a projector at Longcross and I watched dailies with (dailies colourist) Sam Spurgeon every lunchtime. With Kodak and Digital Orchard we have a very quick process to convert analogue filmmaking into digital by the next morning. Film is processed at night, they scan at 4am and by mid-morning those digital images are transferred to our dailies suite at Longcross. At lunch we’d watch it digitally projected, having been processed, scanned and graded at 2K.

I check that first and give notes to Sam and those get transferred onto our dailies which is what Ken, the editorial team, VFX and studio team sees. That's a major check. It's me with someone in a room, rather than me talking over the phone which is a big difference. I have a very good relationship with Goldcrest and (DI colourist) Rob Pizzey who also sees things along the way. I supervise the grade at the end. So, there's no need for anyone to interpret anything. It’s a collaboration in which we all look at the same images.

Did you shoot black and white for the opening scene or convert?

We shot colour for a couple of reasons. Although Kodak could manufacture BW 65, there is no lab in the world to processes it. Plus, there’s a certain skill to grading BW using colour negative and the added benefits are that that you can place a grey tone to a colour. For example, you could take red and decide it will look a very dark grey or a light grey, so you get very detailed tones. Ultimately, I get much more control in the DI this way. They were very monochromatic battlefield sets and costumes so it was quite limited in this case. The Germans wore grey and the Belgians wore dark blue and it’s a dark sooty gas-filled battlefield but you could manipulate the blue in the sky a little bit more and certainly manipulate the intensity of people’s eyes - especially if they had blue eyes (which Branagh does).

How did you handle sound sync?

To do sound sync work on Orient we used sound cameras that are twice as heavy as high-speed cameras, so I wanted to develop soundproof housing (blimp) for our camera on Nile. I took the problem to Stuart Heath at BGI Supplies at Longcross. They've made all sorts of props for us before, from Cinderella’s carriage to the furniture on Nile. I told him that I needed it really quickly. All my other attempts had failed. Stuart suggested using a material that they soundproof the interior of helicopters with. He brought a draper in who basically measured the camera as if making a dinner suit for it and quickly made a couple of versions for us. It was very effective and really opened up the Steadicam possibility for us. All from just wandering onto a workshop on the lot and asking a friend if he had any ideas about how to achieve something. In the old days that’s what everyone did – the answer was somewhere on the lot.

Finally, after six films and 14 years working with Ken Branagh, could you tell us what makes your relationship tick?

It is a fantastic friendship. To begin with you must be able to maintain a professional friendship with any cast and crew which is all about doing your very best and understanding where you have common aesthetics and shared thoughts about humanity. Ask what kind of world you want this to be, because that will come through in your filmmaking.

As you say, I've spent years working in close proximity to Ken and we have a mutual affection and admiration for each other otherwise we wouldn't be doing it for so long. He is relentless in pursuit of perfection and in his advancement of storytelling and is inspiring to work with. It means you have to be as relentless in your area of craft.

I think we both like making the same kinds of films. I'm a Greek Cypriot who grew up with Greek myth and tragedy. Ken's love of Shakespeare is legendary. You can easily see the lineage between Aeschylus (the ancient Greek creator of tragedy) that goes all the way to Shakespeare. Perhaps that appreciation for the human condition in its best and worst forms is the tie that binds.

Photo credit: Rob Youngson

Source: britishcinematographer.co.uk - February 4 2021