#why do these lines sound like they were recorded with a tin can and a piece of string

[teddyeyeseddie]

A Well Loved Vinyl (E.M.)

Summary: Eddie found love in 3 things. Weed, Music and You. 

Warnings: Drug Use (Weed), Age Gap (Reader is in their 20s, Eddie is 40), Smut, Oral (Fem Rec), Dacryphilia, P in V (Unprotected), Dumbification of reader, Daddy kink, Pet names, 18+ Only 

Your hips swayed as you cooked the meal before you, waiting for Eddie to get home from his day of work. The crackling of the stove mixed with the sound of the front door opening causes you to jump back from your task at hand.

“Hey Sunshine,” Eddie says as he makes his way through the corridor and into the kitchen.

“Whatcha cookin’?” he asks as he sits at the kitchen counter, pulling his old tin lunch box towards him. You have tried to get rid of the stupid thing but, “Its metal babe! I used this box to deal WAY before you were in school” a comment that would make most cringe, but it's always a comment that makes you giggle and smile.

He pulls out a baggie of bud, grabbing his grinder and getting his weed ready to roll a quick joint before dinner.

“Alfredo..” You say as you stir at the pot in front of you, turning off the burner before grabbing a strainer to get the water out of the pasta you had been boiling. You glance over at him as he rolls up, the flick of the lighter making you almost cringe as he lights the joint in the kitchen.

He takes a long drag before he offers it to you, part of you wanting to scold the man for smoking in your shared kitchen, the other part of you wanting to relax and unwind. You had told him before to not light up in the house but he never listened, a trait that you had grown to deal with.

You shrug your shoulders, taking the spliff and taking a long drag before leaning over the counter and blowing the smoke in Eddie’s face. He giggles before taking the joint back and balancing it between his lips before rounding the counter and pulling you into him. He pulls the joint from his lips, leaving it dangling between his fingers as his other arm snakes around your waist. He pulls you into him and kisses you sweetly, the smell of weed and mint heavy on his breath.

You pull away, turning back to the stove to finish up the cooking he had interrupted.

“Signed a new band today,” he says as he continues to smoke, “It’s something you’d like.. Brought home a fresh pressing of their latest album,” He says with a smile.

Eddie had his quirks; he couldn’t go to a concert without wearing his lucky denim jacket, he couldn’t have sex without playing a well thought out playlist to set the mood, and he never listened to music in the house unless it was a vinyl. “You just had to be around in the 80s, waiting for a new album drop, waiting in line in hopes you’ll be able to snag a vinyl or tape.. You just had to be there baby…”

Eddie quickly finishes his joint, moving from the kitchen island over to the dining room table where dinner was waiting for him.

The two of you eat as conversations of your day flow easily, Eddie talking animatedly about the new band he signed to his record label, Corroded Records.

“What do you say, I roll up again.. And we listen to this new album?”

You nod, smiling at him before getting up from your place at the table and cleaning up quickly.

Eddie helps, as much as Eddie can, rinsing off dishes for you and wiping down the dining room table. Once the task at hand is almost done, he grabs his tin lunchbox and makes his way to the living room. When you round the corner you see Eddie licking at a rolling paper, his pink tongue peaking out of his mouth as he concentrates on the joint. You plop down beside him, leaning your head on his shoulder as he finishes rolling their second spliff of the night

He lights the joint, taking a small drag before getting up from his place on the floor in order to put on the new record he had been talking about all night. A quiet intro starts before Eddie sits down on the couch beside you.

Can you tell tomorrow by stars in the sky

Is there any reason

Is it all just a lie

When you're in the desert with a fist full of sand

Why do you curse the ocean

Because it never goes as planned

He smiles as the first bit of the song plays, taking small drags of the joint and passing it between the two of you.

If I didn't have you

What would I be

If I didn't have you

What could I see

If I didn't have you

What would I do

If I didn't have you

If I didn't have you

He holds the rolled paper between his lips as he holds his hand out to you as he stands up from his place on the couch, his arm wrapping around your waist as he begins to sway lazily to the lyrics.

Sitting in the backseat

With all of your fears

If time is the driver

Tell me who is going to steer

Put it all together

Sit yourself up straight

Don't you know that good

Is the enemy of great

By the end of the song, the joint is burning his fingers, not that he cares. He looks down at you, a smile plastered on his face as he leans down to press the softest kiss to your lips, deepening it as the next song clicks on, the crackling of the vinyl filling the room as he backs you up against the couch.

The weed coursing through your veins causes you to giggle as you flop down on the couch in a not so graceful manner. Eddie disposes of the roach in an ashtray, pouncing on you in a fit of giggles. He kisses at your neck, nipping at the skin and pressing his nose further into your skin.

He pulls away and wiggles his eyebrows before getting up and pulling off his worn out t-shirt, he fumbles with the button of his jeans, struggling to get them past the meat of his thighs. He pouts when he sees you're still on the couch, watching him strip.

“S’ not fair,” he whines before rushing towards you in hopes to get you stripped from your clothes. His hands meet the edge of your shirt, pulling it over your head in haste. He chuckles when he sees your tattoo that matches his own.

“Nice tattie,” he says as he leans down to kiss right where your breast begins to swell. He kisses from the tattoo, down your torso, and along the edge of your jeans. He bites at the skin of your hip, leaving a little mark for you to remember him by.

He leans back before popping the button of your jeans. Your hips lift off the couch allowing him to pull the offending garment from your body. He pulls at your panties in the same go, your face offering him a playful scowl.

His fingers come forward to run through your slit, the coolness of his digits making your whole body shiver. He sits back on his haunches, pulling at his t-shirt before discarding it with the pile of clothes already on the floor.

“I'm gonna take good care of you princess..” he coos, sitting himself perfectly in front of your center before leaning forward and licking a stripe from your weeping hole up to your clit. He circles around it, moaning into you as his tongue expertly flicks and swirls at the little bundle of nerves. He continues his movements, changing from fucking you with his tongue to lapping at your clit. You're a writhing mess beneath him, mind going dumb as he takes care of you.

“Whatdya want baby? Want daddy to keep going? Or does my baby need something different? Need to get fucked stupid?” he questions but before you can answer, his lips attach to your sensitive bundle of nerves, his tongue expertly working you closer to an orgasm.

Your hips buck up chasing your release when suddenly he pulls away, a small ‘tsk tsk’ leaving his lips as he backs away from your center. He smiles widely up at you, the absolute wrecked look on your face encouraging him further.

He stands up, his hands finding the waistband of his plaid boxers, yanking at them in order to strip them from his body. His cock springs free, looking just as pretty as you always remembered.  It's long and girthy, the mushroom head thicker than the rest and red and angry at the tip, weeping and wanting for some sort of attention. He spits into his palm and begins to tug on himself to offer some sort of relief.

He fits himself back between your legs, his dick settling hard and heavy between his thighs. His calloused hand fits itself around his length, giving himself a few more tugs before slapping it down onto your center. The harsh motion causes your already sensitive cunt to spasm.

He chuckles at the whimpers that are leaving your mouth as he feeds his cock into you gently, only the tip penetrating your hole. You grab at his biceps wanting him to move closer to you, you need anything, something other than looking at him from afar.

“Needy baby wants daddy to come closer? Nuh uh, gotta have all the leverage so I can fuck my baby girl stupid.” The grin on his face is menacing, the look not matching the teary eyed face of your own.

Tears are pouring down your face as he slowly fucks in and out of you, the long drags of his cock causing you to mewl.

“Ed-Eds please faster,” you sob, Eddie’s devilish grin contorting into a mock pout as he picks up his pace.

“My little dumb baby is crying? Crying so daddy will fuck her harder? Daddy's gotcha..” he says as he lets go of your thighs and brackets himself above you. He rests on one palm beside your head and uses his free hand to come and wipe at the tears falling down your face. Once the offending tears are gone, he kisses the red skin. He takes time placing kisses to your cheeks that have gone blotchy red from your needy tears.

He fucks into you harder, his mocking demeanor gone as he kisses at your neck.

“Daddy’s done teasing princess, M’gonna take good care of you now, kay?” you nod dumbly, turning your head to place open mouth kisses to the expanse of his bicep.

He fucks into you harder, his hips slapping against your thighs, the sound drowning out the  vinyl as it crackles on the turntable.

He is methodical as he gets you closer to your orgasm, his hips keeping the same pace as he gets you closer and closer.

“Is baby gonna come for me? Gonna come hard for daddy?” he grunts, his hips moving faster.

“Gon-gonna come..” You moan out as your pussy clenches around him. Your legs come up and wrap around his back, ankles locking him in as he thrusts in one, two, three more times. At the same time you are both coming, his lips coming down to meet your own. You’re both a giggling mess as he pulls out of you.

He gets up from the couch, running upstairs stark naked in order to run a bath. When he is back downstairs he smiles at your sleepy figure, cum running out of your cunt, hooded eyes looking over all fucked-out.

“C’mon princess..” he says as he helps you off the couch, “let’s get you a bath..”

[chlix]

skz as patrons at the library where i work

Genre: crack Synoposis: literally what it says on the tin lmao Members: OT8!! maknae line below the cut :)

Disclaimer in case my boss sees this that I love my job and almost all of our patrons <3 also none of these statements describe a specific person they’re just amalgamations of things we do and see every day

CHAN:

Mostly comes in to use our wifi/study rooms

Once asked us if we had a spare ethernet cable+hookup and we were all like ummmm we don’t really do that here?

Accumulated a $0.50 fine on his account and was extremely apologetic while paying it off like dude it’s okay it’s not that serious

Needs to print like 150 pages off of his laptop every single week and we feel bad for being annoyed because he’s really very nice about it*

Leaves ten minutes before closing <333

*this is annoying because printing off your own laptop means we have to leave our desk and go get your papers from the wireless printer the back office, whereas if you printed from the library computers you could get it yourself from the public printers

MINHO:

Runs a whole-ass business out of our meeting rooms

Like seriously shouldn’t you have an office space or a building for this….but no he checks out the same room key almost every day like clockwork

Actually doesn’t even live in our township but pays the PLAC fee because he likes our facilities better

Every time he tries to speak to us at the desk and it echoes he goes, “Wow sound really travels in here doesn’t it?”

When you ask him for his name for the financial records he jokingly refuses to tell you because “You should know who I am by now”

CHANGBIN:

Constantly forgets that he has to check out items that are on the holds shelf before leaving

It's such an issue like we've marked more than ten books as missing/lost but it turns out he just took them and left

Regularly attends the adult programming, like book clubs and mental health information sessions, always thanks the presenter for their time <3

Uses the library as Google, will call us and ask “Where’s the cheapest gas station close to where I am?” like sir where are you????

Has a punch card for the coffee machine and will stand around and make small talk while the coffee brews

HYUNJIN:

Gets so unbelievably embarrassed to come up to the desk for any reason as we’re going to verbally berate him for asking us a question

Bitches about every fine no matter how small, will ask for a manager over $0.75.

Seriously he does not like owing money. He got a book wet one time on vacation and paid for it as passive-aggressively as possible

“I’m telling you that the person before me must have done that because I would never treat a book that way, I treat all my books well and I’m one of the most frequent users of the library” like ok sir that'll be $27.99

One of those people that finds weeding atrocious and hates when he sees damaged books in the trash

Constantly complains about how the classics section lacks diversity (he’s right but us circ assistants can’t do anything about it)

JISUNG:

Has about a hundred books checked out on his account and can never remember which ones are next

He has a phone plan with a weird provider so we can’t text him notices and even though we explain this several times he constantly complains that he doesn’t get notices by text

Tries to pay his fines off with Apple Pay and can’t understand why we, a library using a cash register from 2007, do not take Apple Pay

Once used a website that made the computer set off a LOUD ASS ALARM for being a “forbidden or unsafe network” and we were all like what the hell did you do like even porn doesn’t set off an alarm????

Always asks to “use the bathroom really quick” after we’ve officially closed and forces us to stay an extra 20 minutes because we can’t shut anything down until the building is empty

FELIX:

Never actually reserves a meeting room but will always come to the front desk and ask if there’s one available and will be SHOCKED if we’re booked straight through for the day

Regularly brings in books for donation and when he pays fines in cash he always hands us a $20 and says to keep the change <3

Notices every minute change to the layout like “Why are the atlases no longer at the front of nonfiction?” and we’re like when was the last time you even checked out an atlas

Gets embarrassed if a book he wants is in the teen or children’s section and asks us to go get it for him

Can never connect to Libby because he keeps forgetting his PIN number so he calls us to reset it like once a month

SEUNGMIN:

Checks out a TON of DVDs. Treats this place like Netflix fr

Will request we get a movie that’s currently in theaters and we’re like “It’s not even out on disc yet so we literally can’t buy it”

Prefers to hand all his returns to a desk person and watch us check them in while he’s there instead of putting them in the return so he can "make sure" he doesn't get any fines

Asks us why mysteries are shelved separately from all the other books because it’s confusing as to what is and isn’t a mystery (we have no clue either)

Likes picking books off the cart while you’re shelving because they're "peer reviewed" and "probably better than what's on the shelves"

JEONGIN:

Constantly forgets his library card and is forced to come up to the desk so we can check his books out

Does not understand the difference between librarians and circulation assistants and so is always asking circ assistants do work that only librarians can do

“What do you mean you’re not a librarian? Isn’t everyone who works in a library a librarian?”

Thinks literally everything is going to get him banned from the library as if you'd get banned from the library for...using the services we offer?

Got anxious when we entered the room with a giant mallet after he reported one of the tables was stuck and we had to explain we were not going to attack him and we use the mallet to fix stuck tables

Walks away with room keys sometimes and returns them like 30 minutes before we close in an absolute PANIC

[harolinastyles]

This is basically a little blurb/drabble inspired by the above pic. Hope you enjoy!

Title: Stitches

Author: @harolinastyles

Word count: 1105

"Ow, fuck!" My ears perk up at the obvious sound of my brother’s discomfort.

"You okay in there?" I chuckle, raising my head from the sofa.

"Fine!" He exclaims, peaking my interest even more. He'd squirrelled himself away in the dining room about a half hour ago.

"What are you doing?" I prop my head up on my elbows to get a better look at the door he'd firmly closed behind him.

"Nothing!" He snaps and if I didn't know any better I'd swear we were back in the 90s and any second now he'll come bounding out dressed as a dalmatian or in mum's bra to put on a "show". But it isn't the 90s and my baby brother’s performances are slightly larger scale these days.

In fact, just last night he'd played to another record breaking crowd and honestly I could've burst with pride watching him.

"Hey, shitebag!" I laugh as I remember his favourite sign from Edinburgh, "you need a hand?" I push myself up off the soft leather and make my way across the room to see what it is he's up to.

"Fuck off!" He laughs as my hand twists the handle and as soon as the door swings open he swivels to face me and stuffs some kind of fawn material under his leg. My eyebrows furrow as I take in the old cadbury roses tin that Mum keeps her sewing kit in, the contents sprawled over every surface of the wooden table.

"You didn't tear one of mum's favourite blouses or something, did you?"

"Course not." He scoffs but continues to try to hide whatever it is he's doing.

My eyebrow cocks of its own accord and I know it's a trait he also shares with me. Neither of us are particularly good at keeping our thoughts from showing on our faces. The older I get the more I see it as a positive though. Honesty is rarely the wrong choice in most circumstances.

"You know this'll go much faster if you let me help, right?" I smile as I hold out my hand for the item he's still uselessly trying to hide.

His eyes flick down to the table as I take the empty seat next to him.

"Don't laugh," he mumbles and I can't stop my eyes from widening as I take in what I can now see is a dressing gown. I bite my bottom lip to try and stop my grin from forming while I take in the wonky line that he's made with sewing thread. My fingers brush over the waffle fabric and my brows once again knit together as I can't find an obvious hole that he is trying to stitch.

"Uhm... what is it you're trying to do?"

"What do you mean?" He grabs the item of clothing back before adding, "it's a monogram, obviously."

I pinch my thigh to force the laugh, threatening to break free, back down into my chest.

"With sewing thread?"

"Is that wrong?" His cheeks turn pink and my heart swells as once again it feels like we're kids and he's asking for help with his homework.

"You need embroidery thread and needle. I sent Mum a kit for her birthday, stay there and I'll go find it," I grin.

"Thanks Gem." His wide grin is infectious and I'm sure I have a similar look as I rake the sideboard for the present I'd sent.

"You can tidy all that away," I point to the mess he's made of the table.

"So fucking bossy," he laughs but does as I ask. My fingers grip the item I'm looking for and I bring it to the table.

"Always so obedient," I pat him on the head and he takes the opportunity to tickle my ribs so we both end up in a fit of giggles.

"Whose initials?" I ask while I pull out tailor’s chalk, an embroidery needle and three choices of thread. "Red, blue or green?" I list the limited choices of the kit.

"Red," He says and I raise my eyebrows as he picks up the needle and jabs his finger with it before declaring it "much less dangerous."

"Whose initials?" I repeat when I realise he didn't answer.

"Mine, obviously. See, that’s the start of an H." His fingers point to his squiggle.

"Suuuure," I roll my eyes and he clutches his chest in mock hurt while I undo the stitches he's made.

"So why do you want a monogram on your robe?" I ask, feeling a little miffed that he didn't ask me for help in the first place. I mean this is a hobby I've become pretty decent at.

"A friend saw my robe in Edinburgh and really liked it so I got them one as a present but I - well, I want to make it more special - personal - so here we are," he sighs in resignation because he knows, pardon the pun, that I'm going to keep pulling on this little thread.

"A friend, huh?" I enquire while I show him how to thread the embroidery needle.

"Jude came to the show. I told you that," he mumbles while taking an exceptionally keen interest in the robe he now has in his hands.

"Jude?"

"Uh huh."

"The same Jude you've had a crush on since we were kids?"

"Have not!" He scoffs but the pink tinge on his cheeks and the way he avoids my gaze tells me otherwise.

"And you did not tell me they were in Edinburgh!"

"I'm sure I did," my brother says as he holds out the threaded needle so I can show him what to do.

"I'd remember that. And hang on, if this is a gift for Jude then why were you sewing your own initials?"

"Gem..." he sighs, wanting me to drop it but he knows me better than that. I won't stop now.

"Harry!" I repeat back and turn his head to look at me.

"Fine..." he lets out a puff of air before he continues, "because I want our robes to match, okay? Happy now?"

"Ecstatic!" I exclaim, "this is the sweetest idea, Harry. I love it and they'll love it too, you know that, right?" I elbow him as I demonstrate how to do a chain stitch.

"You think so?" He asks and I can't wipe the smile from my face because no matter how big and famous my little brother gets, I know the little boy who needs my help is still in there and bringing these two together is definitely something I can help with. Starting with these robes.

[siderealdei]

Whumptober 2023 - Day 7

Original fiction for Whumptober Day 7.

No. 7: “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”

Alleyway | Radio Silence | “Can you hear me?”

Can you hear me?

….

…

Guess not. Fuck. Well, there’s nothing I can do from my end, so I guess I’ll just – wait. See if you get the radio working on your end. Fuck!

Ow, ouch, shit. Shouldn’t have punched the wall. There’s just nothing at all to do in this fucking tomb – joking, joking.

Well. Hell. Maybe it will be my tomb. If you can’t get that radio working again, I’m probably going to die in here. No one will be able to find this place without a link, so I’ll – well, I’ll probably suffocate. If I don’t go crazy first from lack of space and lack of contact and –

Yeah. Yeah, shutting up now.

…

Still nothing, huh?

Hey, you know, I read somewhere that when you’re in a cave, deep below the earth, where there’s no light, eventually your brain just starts making up shit, pretending you can see shadows moving or something like that. Just, giving itself input. Like a glitching computer. I’ve kind of experienced that, I think. At night, when I’m asleep in my room. The soundproofing’s so good I can’t hear anything – except maybe I can. The house settling, or the neighbors playing music. But what if that’s just all in my head?

I wonder what I might hear this time. If I start hallucinating again.

Hah, sorry. Said I’d stop this line of thinking. I just can’t seem to help it. Anxiety or paranoia. The lack of anything is just really getting to me. I’m so used to you responding as soon as I start babbling or even before. You always know right when to interfere, to say something when I’m too wrapped up in my own head or the readouts.

Do you think that’s why they deployed the EMP? Or whatever it is I saw on radar right before everything went black. Do you think they knew what it would do to me and everyone else on watch to have things go silent like this? For all the readouts to go dark and then to plummet to the fucking ground like an amusement park ride?

Thank fuck all the failsafes for that part of the balloon-tombs are mechanical.

…is someone outside?

…

…

Hello? Is someone out there? I can – I can hear you, scratching away. Please don’t be a bear, please, please, do not be a bear looking for food, shit, that’s the most terrifying thought I’ve had yet, I do not want to be eaten, come on, I’m a city girl, this nature shit is for other people.

Yeah, that’s why I’ve never taken you up on all your crazy backpacking invites during our mandatory rest periods. I’m much happier in the city, only ever seeing all this greenery and these animals on TV or from way up high. But now I’ve crashed back down in the middle of nowhere, whatever was underneath my nice safe pod, and there’s probably a fucking bear or three trying to get through the tin can to the delicious meat inside –

No, wait, not delicious. I’m, uh, stringy and lean and my shitty diet means that I’m junk food, unfilling –

Huh. Huh, I think the scratching stopped.

What –

Shit, what’s that? There’s a different sound now. I don’t – shit, I really don’t like this. I’d go so far as to say I purely hate whatever the fuck is happening and only like fifty percent of that comes from the fact that I have no clue what’s happening. Please, please just be me hallucinating, that’s honestly the best outcome here –

Hey, uh. Hey, if you can, by some fucking miracle hear me, or if you recover the recording, provided there is one given that I still don’t know why I crashed, hey, would you – you’ll remember me, right? We were honestly friends, right? It wasn’t just us being partnered for the Watch. It wasn’t just in my head.

Right?

If that’s true – you know what I want you to do. If there’s anything left of me. But also with my – with my stuff, and notifying people, and – yeah. Yeah, thank you.

Fuck, I’m so scared, and I don’t even know if I should be.

…

I love you. Not, uh, not romantically. I can’t. I don’t. You know. But yeah. You’re – I love you. I just want to say that, before.

I don’t know if the mic can pick it up. Shit, I don’t know if this damn mic is even working. But. I can hear them. Cutting through. It’s definitely – I mean. No assumptions. But it doesn’t sound like our people. And. And it hasn’t been long enough, I don’t think. Not from what I remember seeing on the map before everything went dark.

I’m so scared. I’m so, so scared. Please. Please, just –

 I love you. I love you. I love you. I –

[fangirlinglikeabus]

my hot dr who novelisations takes, season 6 edition

the dominators by ian marter ian marter, bless him, tries so hard to make this interesting. and i’d just like to say for the record that if this book is at all bad, those are largely problems with the original serial, not the book. honestly i think he’s just working with a particularly uninspiring script, and while there are a few weak bits (zoe is momentarily threatened, it cuts away, and then cuts back with ‘fortunately for zoe’ someone else had fallen over, which is a bit rubbish as a way of dealing with threat and i think is on marter; i don’t know why he mentions some of the characters getting into a hair-raising skirmish on the way somewhere if he’s not going to show it) mostly i don’t want to pay attention to what i see as flaws with the source material. there’s some lovely descriptive bits, like the opening of the ship landing. something which i hadn’t realised other novelisations were missing is dialogue tags that actually make reading pages of script content interesting without overdoing it, which i think marter does a good job of. i love the contrast between kully’s utter horror at this strange thing appearing out of nowhere and the mundanity of the police public call box sign and the small scruffy man wandering out. it’s pretty cool that the dominators’ doors are actually disolving walls. marter really makes an effort to have the quarks appear scary - they speak with a ‘crazed falsetto’, and their guns leave pulverised remains. he also includes a pretty grim description of what turn out to be dummies in the museum - and only reveals them as dummies (and not corpses) after one of their heads falls off, thanks ian! minor changes - jamie calls a quark a wee porridge pot instead of tin kettle, zoe as far as i can recall doesn’t wear a t-shirt and slacks on screen and she does here, the doctor makes an atrocious egg-based pun after blowing up the dominators’ ship with the ‘egg bomb’ (nice to know wildly inappropriate jokes didn’t start with 6). for some reason jamie’s surname is spelled ‘maccrimmon.’ i’m assuming that’s an editing error or something. also, is it just me, or does this line come across as faintly homoerotic: ‘kully glanced with grudging admiration at the brawny highlander’s bulging calves as he strained upwards.’ all this to say - i might not recommend this, but that’s because i wouldn’t recommend the dominator’s full stop, and i don’t think that’s ian marter’s fault - he does his best with what he’s given. 

the mind robber by peter ling so i really liked this one in a lot of ways because i really felt it played around with the kind of thing you can do in prose that they couldn’t on screen. mainly that’s in small things, like the tardis setting being slightly expanded, zoe seeing her mother in the void, the mirror versions of her and jamie having white hair, more weather effects than could be done in studios, various scenes with floating words - including, delightfully, the karkus coming free with comic book sound effects. episode one is quite different: we open with the doctor in a forest before entering into flashback, the context of the dominators is entirely erased (instead the eruption is them on vesuvius for a scientific expedition), and the ending has the doctor falling off into space rather than as a revolving head. we also get a lot of literary references, even more than the original. zoe briefly changes into alice in wonderland, jamie discovers a room with all the world’s stories that shows him a christmas carol and little women, zoe and the doctor wander through miss havisham’s house. which unfortunately brings me to the minor things that irritated me: the doctor presumes that the mansion is from ‘the pen of a passionate female novelist’ because it must ‘belong to some strange, tortured heroine of romance’ (which is especially baffling as a comment given...charles dickens wasn’t a woman last i checked), and jamie makes a sexist comment re: the expediency of arguing with girls. however, i did largely enjoy it, and we also get some nice detail for jamie of his memories of barn dances and rock climbing with his siblings, so that’s nice. oh, and he calls zoe a ‘poor, ignorant creature’ for being unaware of bagpipes. oh, and because i’m apparently cataloguing this obsessively now, the arbitrary change in jamie’s appearance for this novel is that he has freckles now. plus, while i think there’s at least one eu story that handles the meta element of the land of fiction in prose better, the doctor does get to declare this story’s end for us, which was nice. 

the invasion by ian marter ok so right out the gate there’s a lot of really bloody violence in this one, even for the novelisations - a description of a guy being mind-controlled into shooting himself jumps to mind. this is a longer serial so a few scenes are cut - the one i’m most grateful about is the jamie/benton eyerolling over women scene. marter also inserts a few running gags, one about the handheld radio jamie’s given repeatedly switching on (the dr hates this; jamie thinks the tunes are nice), and one where the dr keeps butchering ‘over and out’. the scene where jamie and the doctor are rowing also had some genuinely funny bits. ian marter has once more given the dr a deeply inappropriate pun to close the story on (he replies to the brig’s ‘we’ve got an invasion on our hands’ with ‘it looks like soot to me’ which is especially grim given this soot is implied to be vaughn’s ashes). here’s a few bits i didn’t really like: i could’ve done without the comments on isobel’s legs, the brig calls her and zoe ‘two teenage females’ which is especially weird given i don’t think he does in the original; there’s a line about zoe ‘twirling the boa seductively in the doctor’s face’ which i’m assuming is her joking about because it’s really weird if not. there’s this repeated use of the word sadistic to refer to packer’s intention with zoe and isobel which feels mildly creepy, to say the least. on the other hand, there’s this scene with jamie and the cyberman in a crate together which i thought was really well written; after their escape from the sewer he has a nightmare about a cyberman as well. another noticeable change is that the doctor notices the ‘kilroy was here’ sign and openly wonders who kilroy was (jamie concludes it’s an epitaph after the ‘we get squashed’ conversation). writing this has made me realise there’s a lot of minor changes in here that add up, so while i think marter’s limited in expansion by the amount of content he has to get in (8 parts!) and there are some weird bits that i’m not sure i like (’can we keep her, she’s prettier than a computer’ as a sentiment may be in the original but it’s weird either way, and there’s a part i find absolutely baffling where zoe is irritated by turner’s attentions to isobel so puts her arm around jamie’s waist) it was basically enjoyable, and not, i think, a waste of time. costume notes are that marter’s changed zoe’s outfit again (she’s wearing a trouser suit and only changes into the catsuit at the end) and also only describes jamie as being in a sleeveless waistcoat and kilt, so i’m taking this to mean that he’s not wearing a shirt and is spending this whole novel in sun’s out guns out mode. this is the second marter novelisation where he uses the word bastard - i wonder if he got a 1 use/novelisation allowance or something. finally i think i’ll close it out with this observation: when vaughn asks whom he has the pleasure of speaking to, the doctor replies ‘not whom...who’. ayyy. 

the krotons by terrance dicks look, the krotons is at heart a Just Kind Of Okay dr who story marginally elevated by a team tardis with good chemistry. this is a Just Kind Of Okay dr who novelisation which doesn’t really get across some of the comedy (especially zoe and the doctor’s delaying tactics at the end, which are just briefly summarised), explains some of the character (and machine!) motivations while occasionally overexplaining what we could probably already infer, and boosts the budget a bit. there’s a nice line about jamie where he thinks he’s not sure if the doctor’s a magician or a madman but he DOES know he needs jamie to look after him. there’s a really fucking terrible line about one of the gonds, ‘somehow, her outstanding beauty made it hard to believe that she was among the most gifted of her generation of students’. i thought describing jamie as ‘bright enough in his own way’ was a bit patronising, and that ‘the krotons never had any worries about stating the obvious. indeed their whole conversation consisted of a series of such statements’ was a barely veiled jab at the script. mostly it’s just...there, much like the original if i’m being honest. maybe if you’re really desperate to get some character insights into the custodian?

the seeds of death by terrance dicks this is another story i’m very strongly middling on, but it does feel like dicks put in a bit more effort to the novelisation, possibly because he had such a large hand in rewriting the scripts. there’s actually quite a lot about character backstory and interpersonal relationships (osgood and kelly are rivals for promotion, we hear ice leader slaar’s view on both kelly and fewsham, dicks explains why there’s so much empty space on the moonbase). as usual, there’s a bit more violence like bodies imploding from ice warrior guns and the ice warrior getting vaporised from a heat weapon. so if you’re interested in this story already, go for it. HOWEVER i do also have some things i didn’t like to flag. terrance dicks takes the time to tell us that sexism still exists (they solved the fuel crisis but not misogyny?), and he refers to miss kelly both as an ‘icily beautiful young woman’ and ‘an attractive but severe-looking young woman’...sigh. oh, and ‘jamie shook himself like a wet dog’ feels...weird. like it’s animalising a guy who might already get pegged as uncivilised by a privileged english audience. on a lighter note, there are some pretty funny lines - the doctor reacting to being threatened with a gun with indignation as ‘a particularly rotten way to wake up’ made me laugh. i would also like to make an apology, because i’m pretty sure i made the mistake of thinking the doctor’s ‘i’m a genius’ line was from the ice warriors and it’s not, it’s from this. unfortunately i don’t have perfect recall for every dr who episode ever :’(

the space pirates by terrance dicks this was apparently dicks’ last contribution to the original target run and unfortunately. it is not good. now, for the record, i’m not fundamentally opposed to the space pirates, and i think there may even be room to get a genuinely good story out of it! this is not that. it’s really solidified a big complaint i have about a lot of these novelisations, which is that they’re not really approached with the understanding that script and prose are two very different mediums and any story needs more than a rudimentary adaptation when being brought from one to the other, so everything ends up feeling mildly underwhelming because it’s not working with the strengths of the format! like, i suppose i liked a few of the scene setting descriptions, and we get a few background sketches of characters, and we learn why dom chills out so quickly even though he’s been locked up for years, but equally there’s awkward expositionary bits that really should’ve been ironed out in being adapted...and like, look, i think i’m just let down because i feel like madeleine is a potentially really interesting character, her relationship with her father and her motivations what i think could be the core of this story, and the novelisation does nothing to take advantage of its form to delve into that in any meaningful way! also madeleine just has brown hair instead of that weird hat thing, which isn’t really a flaw i just think it’s a bit of a copout. commit to the weirdness!

doctor who and the war games by malcolm hulke given the volume of material he’s covering in 143 pages, hulke does a genuinely good job. there’s some material that’s understandably curtailed, and while that isn’t always a bad thing (shortening the initial encounter with carstairs and lady jennifer isn’t going to hurt anyone, and i’m personally grateful that he cut jamie’s comment about villar being right about women’s inferiority, no matter whether it’s meant to be teasing) i do think the trial stuff suffers a bit from it: we no longer have the ‘while you have been content to observe’ speech and the farewell of jamie and zoe felt shorter. on the other hand, i really felt like hulke took advantage of the freedom of prose in some ways - far more wars are featured than on screen, for one, and there are a lot more named soldiers and scenes from their perspectives. honestly i think that works very well thematically for this story - it actively disproves what the war lords believe, that humans only matter as cannon fodder for them to use. however, this does make it more jarring when we have a black character who’s only ever referred to by an outdated racial term who immediately dies. he’s not the only character to be referred to in that way, there are a few characters called by their nationality, but given 60s who’s paucity of black characters anyway it stood out to me - it’s not that hard to give him a name! also, it’s not a deal breaker but it does frustrate me when only female characters are called attractive by the narrator and that was the case with lady jennifer - and it’s still egregious that she, the only other woman apart from zoe, disappears partway through the story (especially since the narrator outright admits sergeant russell is ‘trying to think of a reason’ to get her out of the picture). on a narrative level i think a minor quibble i have is that the jamie gets shot fakeout doesn’t quite work when we’ve been told before the shooting that it’s a stun gun. overall, though, despite minor quibbles i do think i’d recommend this one, and i think hulke works well with the format. other bits i thought were neat include opening with an epigraph from the chief war lord, actually paying attention to the fact that not everyone speaks english (there’s dialogue in a few languages including german, and the resistance uses translators), lady jennifer asking zoe if she’s a socialist (because zoe thinks that if a woman is in charge there wouldn’t be wars...laughs in post-thatcher britain), the us apparently doesn’t exist any more in zoe’s time! there are more people explicitly killed on the page than on screen, and the ending is slightly different, concluding not with the doctor’s regeneration but the people who sentenced him lamenting the necessity of banishment: ‘he would have brightened the place up no end.’ finally, babe wake up new mccrimmon variation just dropped: macrimon. did they not have anyone checking these things??

[balladofsallyrose]

1968 Tour: Small Faces interview on Brisbane Radio {x}

‘Mac’ & Kenney being interviewed + transcript:

[mumbles] a few days you’ll get a break in Sydney? Mac: Yeah. And it isn’t because of the weather and all that? Mac: No we don’t mind it because it’s still nice weather anyway, more than in England. Uh, I think the big interest in Tin Soldier, your record which I think will make the chart next week probably up here. Uh, but it’s taking off like a rocket in The Sates, I understand. Mac: It is yeah, no. 21.  Well that’s not bad for a start- Someone: no. 16. Oh sorry, no. 16... it jumped two places in two seconds [laughs and mumbles] Uh, first of all just before you came in Paul Jones selected the P.P. Arnold record, which you guys feature in quite largely, so perhaps you’d like to tell us about it? Kenney: Yeah, uh. Ronnie and Steve wrote it and uh, Ian arranged it and we all played on it, produced it, and everything. And you guys are doing your own production all along the line now? Kenney: Yeah, we try... we write songs for other people now. Yeah, um, the duo singing on it is becoming larger and larger because we go back to the ‘Sha la la’ days, and since then you’ve sort of started writing seriously, music and producing records and figuring productions for other people. And do you also play on the sessions for other people? Mac: Yeah, yeah, we like to do it, y’know. The thing that we have discussed with the other guys who have been in here today, here on our portable studio, is that fact that with so many good things with the record that you guys are making, and the bad thing that you guys are getting very large in Britain at the moment. And I think Paul Jones made the comment that it was a bit alarming because a lot of young people were in fact buying these records, it wasn’t the oldies at all. So, as a group which appears directly to young people, what do you have to say on that? Mac: I don’t know, mate [laughs] Otherwise to the point that I've been meaning to ask for a long time, Mac... good that was even better. Mac: What was the question sorry? You see he’s reading the playlist looking for records that we’re going to play in a moment... now, but seriously, you guys are a group that appears to a younger cross-section of the market, and Paul Jones said he, that maybe it was in fact a lot of young people buying the humperdinck-ballad-type-things Mac: I think it’s quite possible, um. You see a lot of groups don’t go out on tour now and uh, there’s a gap it’s been filled and uh [mumbles] ...but right now about the pirate thing and not enough [media] exposure Mac: Right, yeah well it’s all done by one company which is a bit of a drag really. It should be like here, y’know. Competition.  Yeah, it gets it going. Can the sort of things that the sort of music that you dig, the sort of people that you would go and see would be what? who? Mac: uh, why I don’t see many people really, y’know many artists live- Yeah, I mean the sort of records, the people’s records that you like. Mac: Oh yeah, Booker T. and The M.G.S, y’know the soul music. Yeah the soul music thing. Mac: Yeah. These guys have had some very successful tours in Britain in the last year (1967) is that right? Mac: Yeah yeah, I agree. And in fact, this is meant that a lot of local British acts have got off this black pop thing or singing it, instead of doing their own music... which to me sounds like a good thing, don’t you? Mac: Who’s gone off it? People aren’t making records this way anymore, though? Mac: No right we’re writing our own material y’know, yeah, right. Mac: But the influence is still there you know, I think as a group, Booker T., for us is such a buzz because organ, guitar, bass, drums, each one is such a king in it’s own field y’know. Like I couldn’t hope to be a better organist for Booker T., and Kenney really digs Al Jackson Hurst.  Yeah, so this is something that you guys can hope to- Mac: Write our own material of course, y’know. Peter.. Steve... y’know is influenced by the soul thing but he’s also finding his own y’know thing, and Ronnie too. Yeah, well in fact their writing has changed considerably hasn’t it? Kenney: It has, Yeah. Someone: Getting better all the time don’t ya know... Ok we’ll play a commercial or a record or something and we’ll get back to this... We got some feedback somewhere [laughs] he laughs mentionably as everybody’s eardrums break. Ah...[mumbled] mentioned awhile back It would be tomorrow night 6 o’clock to 8:45, the two shows for the Small Faces, The Who, Paul Jones & The Questions. And tickets, of course,  tomorrow at Parlings. In a moment we’re going to play a record you selected Mac called, ‘...Through The Grapevine’ by Gladys Knight and The Pips. Um, the Motown thing generally, you’ve gone on with it? Mac: Yeah, right terrific drummer.  The other guy who’s done all the sessions, it’s probably their own fellow. It is? Mac: It is yeah, and nice space flow too. Yeah, they sort of, I’d noticed in American records, that sort of wandering bassline that they have... that Motown had going on for a long time, is now starting to happen in a lot of other American records, um, I just think of any off hand, but there must be some [laughs] in fact we... imports... American renaissance starting to happen, how has it affected British people generally? Mac: Well, I think generally that it’s a gas. Like at Atlantic and Motown... the thing that got where it’s always the same backing group and you don’t hear much about... the sounds they got together are terrific. So like Gladys Knight, you’re a gas too [laughs] Yeah, so are these the same people that toured with them when they did the British tour? Mac: Uh, I’m not sure. I know the organist. I didn't see the tour. I hope the organist was the same. Yeah they really get the scene, particularly in the stacks involved [mumbles] Steve Cropper. In fact this is a bit of a myth that was blown up because everybody figured it was a sort of black thing happening, but in fact there are quite a lot of white guys on this Mac: Steve Cropper is the only white guy in the group, oh no Steve Cropper and the base player back then. But in Motown it’s all the people, right? Mac: Yeah, I think so.  And Kenney you were talking about the drummer with Booker T... What are some of the other drummers in the scene that you dig? Kenney: Uh, Brian Bennett and The Shadows y’know people like that. What about people like Ginger Baker? They’ve blown up a pretty big thing in America which surprised me. I didn’t think at first that the Cream would work over there, but apparently they’re going y’know, bigger as ever over there, in America. Their new LP is rated no. 9 in the charts over there or something. And are they an exciting stage act to see? Kenney: Uh, very exciting, very exciting.  Like the Index single [?] Kenney: We’ll I don’t think you can compare them really, I mean y’know. They’re two different acts, but they’re both exciting acts, y’know. Right, we’ll play this record of Mac’s called ‘I Thought I headed Through The Grapevine’ [by Gladys Knight and The Pips] Well on the chat, we were just talking about the sort of thing that people can expect to see you guys do on stage tomorrow night, like perhaps you could give us a few secrets on the sort of numbers [songs] that you’re gonna do? Kenney: Well, I have no idea yet. Right, that’s ah-  Mac: half an hour of a very loud sound [laughs] very loud. Uh, you’ll do the singles that have worked for you, of course? Kenney: Itchycoo Park, yeah oh, um what else to be heard? oh Tin Soldier Mac: Tin Soldier, yeah. Kenney: And uh... Do you go as far back as Sha la la? Or not? Kenney: Uh no doubt it actually. Mac: It’s a sort of entirely different sound y’know these days, [mumbles] For these shows, your recording techniques or your recorded sound has changed - a lightyear in a matter of a short time. What brought about this about? Mac: We had a bit more time in the studio y’know. Instead of trying to create a loud- a live sound, it’s nice to make a good friend about the time. Maybe live a bit. And stopped a lot of bookings y’know and what have you, and just live in the studio recording. Yeah this is the way you get exactly what you want on the record, isn’t it. But do you find that you have problems of getting, say a really bit sound on record and then you have to go and do a tour and you gotta do it! Mac: Yeah, but then we try it for our singles and we try and keep it so that the instruments, we can always use on stage y’know, like Tin Soldier. We use all those instruments on stage and we do it.  In fact, how many times does everybody swap around on instruments on stage? Mac: Oh well, Steve plays a bit of piano, I play a little bit of piano, and uh we all have a go at singing and sort of cover up noises y’know [laughs] That was really what I wanted, the fact that, I think coming on the bus today, somebody said that Steve would probably do a thing on piano. Mac: Yeah, a feature number. A feature number, lovely. A feature number. We’ll we’re going to do this record now- How’s it going in England? Mac: I haven’t got any idea. I don’t know how well we’re doing in England actually. Where’s England? [laughs] It’s that place that’s got all the snow and rain everywhere. I think the reports that we’re getting from Britain now, you know, it’s going okay over there. And in America, apparently ‘Handbags and Gladrags’ is starting to work for Chris Farlowe, he’s a good artist right? Mac: Yeah he’s a right nice guy.  Alright then. Chris Farlowe in fact had a hit of one of your songs didn’t he? Mac & Kenney: Uh Ronnie and Steve’s song, yeah.  Which was ‘My Way Of Giving’.  Mac: Really? [laughs] He never told us. It’s hard to remember. Yeah, in fact it was on one of your, your latest LP, just released in Australia. Um, you have another track already in the [mumbles] right? Kenney: Uh, not yet, not the single. Not a definite single. Mac: We can’t say till we’re finished. Yeah, we’ve got a lot of unfinished tracks in there. I’d say, you’ll probably get an aeroplane- Mac: We might get one better than the one we already had y’know. And what you’ll have an LP and maybe a single out of a session when you get home? Mac: Yeah, we done sort of, most of the LP [Ogden's] After you leave Australia, what sort of plans do you have? Are you- If Tin Soldier looks like you’ll be working in The States, will you? Mac: Um, yeah we hope so [laughs]. Not that [mumbles] would come along. It’s a long story. You haven’t been to The States touring have you? Mac & Kenney: No. And Um, let’s see Tin Soldier is the first one which has worked because Itchycoo didn’t happen all that well over there did it? Mac: Itchycoo Park? In The States? I’m sorry- We were talking about it earlier, weren’t we? Now let’s get on with the record! He have Chris Farlowe’s record which is called ‘Handbags & Gladrags’  {end of transcript}

[subwaysurf45]

Tech problems (bucky x reader)

Summary: bucky doesn’t know how to work the TV, his new phone, anything. After getting made fun if he wants to quit but the reader helps him out.

Pairing: bucky barns x reader

Warning: mentions of death near the end, but it’s mostly fluff

Masterlist!

Bucky stood at the counter in the kitchen, full weight leaning on the concrete slab that most people ate off of. His eyebrows were basically touching as he fiddled with his phone that Tony just gave him, he just couldn’t figure it out for the life of him.

“Hey, old guy!” Tony walked in, “whatcha doing?” He walked over and peered over Bucky’s shoulder.

“Trying to…” his brain wasn’t focused on completing the sentence, more on creating an e-mail.

“I see,” Tony snatched the phone from Bucky’s hands and turned his back to him, Bucky tried to see what he was doing but Tony kept walking around. A little bit of anger grew inside him because Tony seemed just fine at working with tech- everyone did.

Steve had walked in, “Tony, what are you doing?” His voice was tired and annoyed, he already knew what was happening simply from the way Bucky looked longingly at Steve. “Tony-“

“Ah-ta-ta, let me help him.” Tony smirked, his voice dripping in sarcasm. “I’m doing it all for him, aaaand- done!” He turned and slapped the phone in the table, it looked like everyone else’s.

“What did you do to it?” Bucky asked, his anger coming through in his tone.

“Nothing, tin man- old man- silver hair, just nothing.” He seemed like he was telling the truth, “i just did it so you wouldn’t keep annoying me and asking so many god damn questions, jeez.” Tony scoffed and walked away, Bucky didn’t pick up the phone, rather stare at it.

“How stupid am I?” Bucky asked, “really, like you got this figured out in less than a week, Tony told me when I asked for the Bluetooth password.”

“Wifi.” Steve corrected.

“What?” Bucky looked over, “same thing, who cares…” Bucky waved him off, his head snapped up at Steve suppressing a laugh, his stomach sank, “what?” His voice light and almost a whisper.

“It’s not the same thing, very much not the same thing.” He laughed, Bucky sighed, he’d had enough of this. Bucky picked up the phone and walked down the hall, “oh, come on! I’m having fun with you!” Steve laughed.

~~~

You wiped the sweat from your forehead, training with Nat had just ended and you were heading back to your shared room with Bucky. As you walked past the kitchen you saw Steve looking at nothing, he hand kept his head up.

“Why the long face?” You panted, still needing to catch your breath.

“I made fun of Bucky, he’s mad now.” His mouth barley moved, the sentence was muffled.

“About what?” You asked softly but you were still mad, he made fun of your boyfriend.

“Him not knowing how to use tech,” Steve looked up and saw your jaw drop, “what?”

“Literally last night he was so upset because he called me when I was training and he used the emergency signal, so I came running to our room and he had no idea.” You looked towards the bedrooms, “he was so upset with himself that he made me scared, he was all in his head. I need to go check up on him,” you sighed and turned to go to your room; that hot shower had to wait.

Once you made it to your room you softly knocked on the door, “Bucky?” You called, when you heard a hum you opened the door a jar, seeing him slumped over with his phone in his hands. “Hey, babe.” He seemed to break out of his thoughts when you placed a hand on his back.

“Hi, doll face.” He tried to smile, “how’s training?” He looked over to you as you sat beside him.

“Very long and very tiring,” you chuckled, you knew if you asked how he was doing he might get mad or breakdown, “Steve told me what happened, he seemed sad when I was in the kitchen.” Your hand started to rub his upper back, making sure you didn’t hit any scars through the shirt. “You wanna talk about it?” His phone was still on the home page, all the apps were downloaded but you knew he didn’t do that himself.

“I don’t know anything,” he sighed, “i don’t know how to work my phone, the microwave, the TV…I don’t know how to use the system thing in here properly, I can barley understand cars these days, that’s why I use the motorcycle because they didn’t change much but-… y/n, everyone thinks it so funny, the old guy who doesn’t know jack shit about tech.” He slumped forward.

“I don’t think it’s funny,” you moved up to the back of his neck, knowing he likes when you get under into his scalp.

“You’re different.” He stated.

“How so?”

“Because you’ve never been mean to anyone, you’re this shining star, you’re a light and you’re never mean.” His eyes left his phone and he looked at your leg, not wanting to make eye contact after saying that.

Your heart melted, his lips turned up at the quickly kiss to his cheek. He looked over and kissed you back, your hands wrapped around his neck and his pulled your waist in. After pulling away your foreheads rested on one another’s.

“Let me teach you, yeah?” You whispered, “no jokes. No funny business. As long as you need, I’ll go through it all.” You leaned back and waiting for his response.

“I don’t wanna make you go through-“

“Nope. Final rule, no self-doubt.” You smiled, his lip pouted out and he tried to cover his face and blush.

“Okay,” he nodded, “teach me.”

“Not right now,” you laughed, Bucky quirked a brow, “I’m tired and sweaty and I feel gross, also, I would like some cuddles.” You stood and grabbed your towel and a change of comfy clothes, “tomorrow.”

~~~

It was the next day, Bucky sat on the bed as you walked around the TV in your shared room, deep down he wanted to take some notes but he knew if anyone found them, he’d never hear the end of it.

“So let’s start basic,” you stood in front of the blank TV, “let’s say you’ve lost he remote, this is how you control it. Right here,” you pointed to the circle with a line through the top symbol, “that is the universal signal for on and off, look for that. Then, once you’ve pressed it here is the little notches for the volume and then the channel notches.” You pointed as you went along the bottom of the screen.

“Sounds easy,” Bucky muttered more to himself.

“But we have a remote, here, same little symbol, on and off. There, that’s the volume, and the big circle can help navigate up and down, side to side.” You showed him up close, “lots of these buttons will never be used, so I won’t really go through them.” You waved it off. “Okay, test number one, turn of the tv.” You passed the remote.

“Okay…” bucky clicked the button with the symbol he now knew and the screen lit up, some random cartoon played, “yes!” He shit up and jumped, quickly catching himself he sat back down.

“Can you change the channel for me?” You asked, a smirk on your face from his reaction before, he clicked the channel button and it went to the news. “And turn it up, please.”

“Easy,” he smiled and clicked, no sound came out. “What?” He clicked again and the sound came back, but not louder.

“You hit the mute button, use the long button here,” you pointed, he clicked up and it went up one level, after catching on and holding it the volume kept going up, “Bucky-“ you tried to warn but the volume cut out completely.

“Shit.” He stood up, Bucky fiddled with the notches on the actual TV but nothing happened. “What did I do?” His face i genuine terror, “did I break it, oh god, Tony’s gonna get some mad.”

“You blew out the speakers,” after observing the smoke coming out from the side of the TV that was the only possible answer.

“I knew i’d mess it up, I get so cocky, I really thought I had it.” He paced around, tugging his hair.

“Don’t worry, it’ll all be fine,” you calmed him and sat him in the bed, “it’s hard at first but it will only get easier.” You smiled before pulling him into a hug, you could feel his sigh of defeat as he hugged back.

You both headed out to the kitchen, Bucky still in a mood from breaking the TV a couple minutes ago. You both had some coffee, yours with a little milk.

“Hello, lovebirds.” Tony walked in, Bucky looked right at his feet and tried not to look awkward. “What’s up with cyborg over here?” Tony giggled.

“Nothing,” you dipped your coffee, Bucky just nodded along.

“I got a notification that the speakers in your room were blown out,” Tony teased, Bucky stiffened and inches closer to you, “what happened?”

Bucky looked up, his mouth open and about to talk. You gently placed a hand on his chest and looked him in the eye, a way of saying ‘I got this’.

“I sat in the remote, turns out my ass poked it right at the volume and I couldn’t figure it out in time.” You laughed, Bucky looked at you crazy before forcing one out.

Tony hunched over, “I can picture that, oh wow- I wish I was there!” He cackled before turning away and walking down the hall, “it’ll be fixed by tomorrow!” He called over his shoulder.

~~~

It was lonely without you, it was very rare you’d go in missions without Bucky but also rare you’d go alone. It was a simple infiltrate, you were more on the espionage rather than Captain America side of powers. 

Bucky had tired to talk to Steve about letting someone go with you, this mission would involve zero contact with the base. But no one listened, it was always going to be you.

It had been a month, three quarters done with the they needed. The tech lesions had to be halted, you weren’t there to teach and Bucky refused to let anyone tell him anything about the tech in his room.

“If only you could see me, babe…” he whispered as he worked the TV, that was the only thing he knew, and he was great at it. Last week he recorded a show, he was never going to watch it, but it as recorded. He almost had a heart attack when the remote stopped working, but it just ran out of batteries.

After doing all the cool tricks he knew he looked over to your side of the bed, it was neatly made and seemed untouched. Whenever you’d be fine for even a night he’d sleep on the ground, but he promised he’d sleep on the bed, but he never rolled over or even sat on your side.

The one thing he missed was the way your shampoo stunk up the whole bed in a good way, when he’d wake up the morning after you’d showered he’d could smell your lavender shampoo right away, it almost puts him back to sleep. But as the days went on, it faded.

Bucky looked around before gently placing his face your pillow, almost like an afterthought of your sent came through; just barley there. His face hovered before he gave in and relaxed on it, he knew if he’d roll around the sent would fade quicker, he didn’t really care.

There was a hard spot on your pillow, he reached under and found a green spiral notebook. It didn’t have anything in the cover, once he opened it a gasp fell from his lips.

It was a notebook, for every piece of tech in the house. From his phone to how F.R.I.D.A.Y. works, it was all there. Intricate diagrams that where labeled, one page had everything he needed to know.

Bucky’s phone sat face down in his bedside table, he flipped the that page and looked it over. He picked up his phone and read through it all, slightly muttering then words that were written to himself like he was being taught.

“Okay, you got this,” he said as he pressed the on button, as he navigated around he learned how to add a contact, send and text, google, the a picture, send an email. Everything.

~~~

You walked into the compound completely exhausted, one black eye layer, the base had been infiltrated. You went to your mission report computer and Tony was there, he gave you your phone.

“Connect back to the wifi,” he nodded before leaving you to connect.

Once you were fully back online your phone began to buzz, over and over. Tons of notifications rolled in. You went to emails first.

From: bucky

To: y/n

Subject: test?

Hellooooooo this is a test, don’t worry about it!

You laughed and scrolled through the other emails, finding out they were all kind of the same, then you went to text messages.

There was a selfie of him holding the green book, his smile couldn’t have been wider. He sent three, probably by accident. But they were still cute.

So I figured hit text!

Kinda cool

I found the book, it was like Christmas

Anyway, I know you won’t read this but I think I’ll try the oven next, I’ll ask wanda about it.

As the texts went on, your heart started to drop and your stomach swirled. They had been getting progressively sadder.

Hey doll face, I hope you’re well, miss you

I miss you

I love you

I wanna marry you one day, maybe live on farm and have a few kids

If you want

Sent: two months ago

I finished your book, I think I know it all now, I’ve been going over those tests you put in the back sleeve, they’re really good

You’re very thoughtful

I know you can’t see this

I don’t know what to do with myself, this is very hard.

Sent: one month ago

Are you dead?

I had a dream you died in my arms, and I can’t tell if it was a flashback or a dream

I hope you’re not

I love you too much

Please come home

Please

I really need you

I wish I never learn how to use this shit, honestly, I can’t seem to put my phone down because this is all I have if you right now. I keep checking it to see if you’ve responded but I know you haven’t, but part of me wants you to respond so I know you’re alive.

I’m not ready to say goodbye to you yet.

Sent: 24 hours ago

You slammed the phone down and raced down the hall, you passed the kitchen and everyone who smiled at you because they hadn’t seen you in three months, they probably also thought you were dead.

You stopped right before the door, you could hear soft whimpers coming from inside.

“I miss you,” the voice was muffled.

You opened the door silently, you saw Bucky lying right next to your side of the bed, it was still perfectly made. You also saw what looked like glass shattered by the wall, a closer look and it was his phone.

“Bucky?” You asked.

His head shot up and he sat up straight, after wiping his face he ran right over to you. His hug pushed you back on the floor, he just stayed there.

“Don’t ever do that again, please.” His voice was still shaken, “I can’t go through that again.”

“Never again, i was so worried when I saw your text a minuet ago.” You whispered and ran your fingers through his hair.

“Your name in my phone, your the only one.” He sniffled, “it was like it was taunting me, I got really mad and I threw it.” He hugged you tighter, “you were supposed to come home two days ago.” He cried.

“I know,” you housed him and sat up, as he pulled away he saw your bruised face, his thumb gently traced the purple mark.

“I don’t want a phone, I like knowing about it, but I’ll only ever borrow yours.” He seemed like he was pledging something, like an oath.

“Done deal,” you pulled him in for a long kiss, hoping it would never end.

[bluefirewrites]

not sure if u are still taking this but, celebrity/fan au for JUKEE 🤭

Okay this one's a little involved but I got you!

Rated T for mentions of sex and maybe some language

SEND ME A SHIP AND A NUMBER AND I’LL WRITE A SHORT FIC

******

Julie tugs against the rather short dress Flynn had squeezed her in, not caring for how much she looks like a glorified candy wrapper in the shimmering gold.

She feels like she's some Ferrer Roche, waiting to be devoured.

Which seems to be her intention for tonight because she's insane, and so is her bestie Flynn, because she's supposed to grab the attention of a certain someone in this club.

Her motives for tonight sound like they come straight out of a Wattpad story, but her boyfriend- or well maybe an ex boyfriend now'- forced her hand.

So a year ago, right around the time they started dating, they both disclosed their 'hall passes'. Just a list of celebrities they were both 'allowed' to cheat on their partners with. It was fun. Just to see who the other person would pick. 

It was harmless because the whole point is that these people are so famous, so far out of reach, that the odds of hooking up with them would be essentially impossible.

Nick's was the lead singer of the world famous pop group Dirty Candi. And Julie remembers drunkenly applauding the choice ("She's pretty! Wowww you like them Bubblegum Pop girls?")

They had a laugh that night and Julie doesn't really consider that hall pass conversation all that much since then-

-Until fast forward to last week when Nick disclosed to her that he ran into Carrie Wilson at an event. And then promptly disclosed to her that he invoked his 'Hall Pass' rights.

His rights?! She had exploded at him, and he claims that its no big deal. That he thought she would understand that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, a crazy set of circumstances, and that- 'Holy shit Jules, she was actually into me. Like what?'

Understandably, Julie stormed out and has been staying with Flynn for the time being. And it must have been the haze of crying and watching a lot of true crime series to cheer herself up that she and Flynn concocted this... plan.

One fueled by spite and pettiness.

Get back at Nick, make him jealous, make him feel how she did- by invoking her own 'Hall Pass' rights- 

-which so happens to be Sunset Curve frontman, Luke Patterson... 

"There he is" Flynn whispers from their corner of the club and Julie gulps.

"I don't think I can do this," Julie hisses at Flynn, when they spot him at the bar, nursing a drink with his bandmates like he usually would (they did their research). 

See, Julie’s been a fan of Luke’s for a long time. Ever since she heard ‘Now or Never’ in freshman year of high school, she’s been hooked onto their music- especially Luke and his voice and playing. 

She had their posters on her bedroom wall and had been that girl who would (when no one’s looking) press her fingers to her lips then press them against Luke’s image before going to bed. 

It was that bad. 

And Julie had probably fantasized on more than one occasion of meeting him and all the other scenarios you would picture in a typical Celeb x Reader scenario. 

And she’d like to think she grew out of it, now she’s in her mid-twenties and just casually listens to Sunset Curve, following up on their careers every now and then. 

But you can never really shake your first major celebrity crush. Hence he had been on her so called ‘Hall Pass’ list. 

(”You into rockstars, Jules?” Nick had teased her that night.)

Seeing him there, in the same place as her, is so surreal, but Flynn’s continued pinches to her arm remind her just how real this is. 

“This is ridiculous,” Julie crosses her arms, ready to bow out because what is she thinking? Why would Luke Patterson pick her up, of all people, at the bar? It’s like a supermodel runway in here, filled with girls more accomplished and famous. Her confidence is shaken a bit and she rethinks everything. 

"Nick didn't seem to have a problem when he did it," Flynn points out, “And girl, you look great. He would be blind to not want you.” 

The mention of Nick still boils her blood, which only reaffirms her plans for revenge. She’s still nervous but they both stand up from their booth and walk over to the bar. 

“You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend,” 

“No. You’re musician extraordinaire, Julie Molina! The world may not have heard about you, but they will one day. I bet that’s something you can talk to him about. Music? Lyrics?” 

Julie could use her songwriting credentials to her advantage, “I mean I guess-” 

“Quick, he’s getting up!” 

“Flynn, wait I’m not-” 

With a forceful push, Flynn sends Julie into the path of Luke Patterson, colliding into him and effectively spilling his drink all over her dress. 

“Oh my god,” Luke gapes at her, “I am so sorry-” 

Julie fans herself, shaking slightly from the fact she’s drenched and also that her freakin’ high school celebrity crush is looking at her, actually talking to her. 

But she recovers quickly, and she speaks, “It’s fine. Really. I guess I’m just... clumsy.” She shoots a glare at Flynn, who merely winks and retreats to their booth. 

Luke grimaces and takes her by the hand, leading her somewhere, napkins in his other hand, “Here, let’s get you cleaned up. Again, I’m sorry. Hate to ruin a pretty... dress.”

It’s the way he eyes her that catches Julie off guard. He’s... not talking about the dress, is he? 

Julie reels it back in tries her hand at a joke, “I wouldn’t call this a dress. I feel like fancy leftovers in this thing.” 

Luke stifles a laugh, “Okay, I mean I wasn’t gonna say anything but yeah. I guess it’s a bit tin foil-y.”

“Not your style?”

His gaze drifts over to her one last time, “Well, any way to take a meal back home is fine by me. I mean-” Luke scrunches his nose, wincing, “I didn’t- I didn’t mean it like that. Shit. That was too... much. Are we-” he laughs nervously, “Are we still... talking about food?”

“Unless you just called me a meal. Then no.” 

The look in his eyes say that he’s absolutely mortified, “...yeah. I think I did. I was hoping that was a nightmare.” 

“Nope, it definitely happened,” 

“Feel free to slap me,” 

Julie giggles, somewhat delirious because she hasn’t tried to flirt with him but here Luke is, flirting with her. Or trying. And failing. Like a far cry from the suave rockstar she had pictured him to be. 

“No need. Just, can you-?” she points to the napkins he’s holding hostage. 

“Oh yeah. Here,” They stop in front of the coat check, and he hands her the napkins so she could try herself off with the best she can.

Suddenly, a weight falls onto her shoulders, she looks up and sees Luke draping a jacket over her- his presumably. 

“You looked cold,”

Julie wraps the jacket tight against her, relishing in the warmth, “Wow, thanks.”

Luke smiled and stepped back, “Just so you know, if I made you feel weird in any way, I’d like to throw out my third ‘sorry’ of the night. Nothing has to happen though. So, just say the word and I’ll leave you alone.”

Whew. Um, okay. Julie stands there, faced with this decision. 

The compliments aside (she will revisit those later), Luke’s giving her an out. Any reservations she has about moving forward with this plan, this is her chance to leave. 

She could just treasure these amazing few minutes for the rest of her life. This could be a story to tell friends at a dinner party, about the time a rockstar lent her his jacket. Would be up there with the time Jack Black passed her on the street and said “Nice hat!”. 

But-

Maybe she wants to see where this goes. 

“All this talk about food is making me hungry though...” she says and Luke lights up, “I could go for a bite to eat.” 

Luke snaps his fingers, “I know just the place.” 

*******

Half an hour later, Julie and Flynn are in a smelly alleyway with the guys from Sunset Curve, in line for a street dog cart just a couple blocks away. 

“An Oldsmobile?” Julie gawked after hearing Luke and the guys describe the delicacy, “Are you trying to poison me?”

“I swear by it,” Luke insists, taking her hand and moving them up in the line. Flynn sees this and doesn’t comment, but Julie’s starting to get used to Luke doing that, “You have to try!”  

Julie doesn't know when she got over her initial starstruck, but by now its so easy to treat Luke like a regular person.

Well, celebrities are all regular people in the end, but more so now that he and his friends, have their sleeves rolled up, smiles wide, ready to dig into what may be the most disgusting hot dog she has ever seen.

Julie takes a bite out of hers and her eyes widen. Wow. It's not terrible.

"Ayy! We got another one, boys" Reggie laughs, noting her reaction.

"Told ya" Luke needles her sides and she giggles, ticklish. Her knee jerk reaction is to playfully shove him, but in the process accidentally smeared some mustard onto his face.

Luke goes to lick it off with his tongue, making funny faces as he did which amused Julie even more.

"Here," she takes a napkin and wipes at his cheek, "Now we're even."

The whole group gets to talking over by the couches, while Flynn chats up the other boys, Julie and Luke are sequestered in their own corner, and yes, eventually the topic switches to music.

"Wait, so you know Rose and the Petal Pushers?" Luke chokes out, "Like everyone I talk to hasn't heard of them!"

"Yup. Have their record actually" Julie beams proudly, censoring out the part that its her mom's band and hence she has one of the few records ever released.

Luke is floored by that and continues to poke her brain for music and Julie finds that their spiels go on naturally, that she could probably talk with Luke for hours and hours.

Which ends up happening. Flynn had already made her escape, having texted her to come home safely, the boys had gone too, leaving them in the nearly empty lot.

When the food truck closes down for the night, they end up taking a stroll down the streets of L.A, talking and getting to know each other.

Julie learns so much about Luke, things she's never heard about from the press- like his songwriting practice, that he cries at Finding Nemo, and that he can do a cartwheel only when drunk.

And in return Julie shares with him her crazy college stories, how she misses her mom sometimes, and that she is encyclopedia of commercial jingles (a fact Luke exploits by rapidly quizzing her at random moments)

Somehow they end up near the beach, with Julie pointing out the different stars she could see, but finds that Luke isn't looking at the sky.

"Hey, Julie..." He gets her attention, "I had a really good time tonight."

"Me too"

"So... would it be alright, if I kiss you?"

Julie's mouth parts, speechless. It happened. Holy shit it happened or... is happening. She has Luke exactly where she wants him.

She could only nod and Luke takes it as the sign to lean in, but just as his lips is about to brush against hers, she freaks-

"Wait" she steps back. Luke opens his mouth, "No. No more 'sorry's from you. This one's one me. I'm sorry but... this- this" She sighs, "I have to be honest with you."

Then she tells Luke everything- Nick, The Hall Pass, her plans for tonight- basically admitting to using him.

When she's done, she expects for Luke to get angry, to leave in a huff and never want to see her again.

That's not what happens.

"This Nick guy sounds like a piece of work" he says.

Julie nods slowly, "Yeah... I guess he was. So maybe that's why I did it. But I don't think I could have gone through with it. Like I don't think we're together, me and Nick but-"

"You wouldn't want to do what he did. Because you don't want to hurt people," Luke surmises, understanding, "And by doing that, that means you're a better person than he is."

"I guess"

"No Julie, you're a good person" Luke insists, "Man, I think that makes me like you even more."

Julie laughs, "God, if my high school self could see me now..."

"You were a big fan?"

"I'm not having this conversation right now with you,"

"Okay cuz now you got me curious-"

Julie swats his shoulder but it doesn't deter the guy from snickering.

On a more serious note though-

"I think..." Julie hums, "I think this means that I got some stuff to work through. Before I could start considering... this."

"I understand"

"But thank you... Luke. For tonight"

"It's been real, Julie,"Luke smiles and pulls her in for a half hug, "And you should keep the jacket. Looks better on you anyway."

****

Julie goes back to Flynn's that night and her bestie's still awake, wanting all the deets. But there's not much to tell. Nothing happened.

She shrugs off the jacket and resigns to the couch, not caring that her makeup is still on. She's about ready to pass out.

Her phone dings.

She pulls it out and sees two notifications.

luke_patterson is now following you

luke_patterson is requesting to message you.

Curious, she accepts the request.

'here if you want to talk, Tin Foil :P'

Julie rolls her eyes and collapses onto the couch, sleeping with a smile on her face.

She doesn't know it now, but the oncoming years would be filled with more messages back and forth, meetups with their friends for more shady street food, building a solid foundation of friendship and eventually, when Luke asks again if he could kiss her, Julie would eagerly prop herself on her toes to close the gap.

Yeah, Julie's high school self would definitely be screaming...

[yeoldemothmemes]

Wayward Guide Werewolf Sentence Starters

Taken from the Tin Can Bros youtube series - Wayward guide - but just the lines about werewolves Out of context spoilers ahead Included are some alternate versions of the lines just for ease of use Feel free to change pronouns and alter as needed Content warnings: Murder, Blood, Death, “Werewolves?” “Folklore is a part of any culture” “Lycantropes, that means werewolves” “I don’t actually believe any of these myths” “Do you know anything about werewolves?” “I think I’m a werewolf now” “That is a big dog” “Chased by a real werewolf” “It seems there is a pack of werewolves trying to destroy us all” “I just feel like werewolves are in right now” “Too obvious. Not a werewolf” “I’m not a werewolf” “Can we get to the bottom of this werewolf problem?” “Sounds like something a werewolf would say” “Let’s find out what the werewolves might want more than anything?” “My church is open to all, even wolves” “Which is why I’m assembling a werewolf hunting task force”  “I don’t know how much of a person I am anymore” “The raw meat? Constant itching? My awesome new hearing? Isn’t it obvious?” “My sense of smell - it’s good” “I’d keep the howling down if I were you” “Off the record - I’m a werewolf” “We want nothing more than to live in peace with the humans” “There is more of them than us” “Every wolf has been accounted for” “Someone is trying to put the blame on the wolves” “With your intellect and recently acquired abilities, I think you can help” “The fact that your recent attack has turned you into a _____” “The fact that your recent attack has turned you into a werewolf” “I feel I should advise you on some of the things you’re going through” “If not werewolves, then who or what is killing everyone?” “Too little and we are beholden to the moon, too much and it kills us” “All the victims look like they were torn apart by a wolf” “I think I’m better suited here” “Some people in town might have powers” “Some people with special abilities” “Are you talking about werewolves?” “It’s as I suspected, you’re turning” “Do they know I’m a wolf” “I’m a werewolf” “I took an enormous risk telling you this” “We are not the enemy here” “If this is true then you have been lying to me my entire life” “Before you found out I was a werewolf, I was still your friend” “Of course, a silver bullet” “A wolf, a big white wolf just came out of nowhere and killed them” “Why kill your fellow wolves?” “I’m more of a lone wolf with a taste for vengeance” “I’m the last remaining wolf” “I already got a bit of the wolf rundown” “Take me as your student and together we can destroy the wolves” “I was consumed with blood lust I didn’t consider the future of my lineage” “Being with you would keep the bloodline pure” “Am I in a goddamn monster movie?” “What luck to discover a wellspring for all the werewolves” “Your pack was poisoned with your lust for power” “Your pack chose violence, we chose peace” “You chose submission because your pack is weak” “My pack have always been the alphas. We’ve always been smarter, stronger, more cunning” “My plan was for you to lose control of your abilities and the humans you call friends would have killed your pack” “How do you get the fangs out? I’m trying” “Before settling here, we were nomads - our curse preventing us from staying in one place for too long. “Beholden to the moon, we were easily exposed” “We found a way to control our powers and live among humans” “We found a way for us to control our powers and live among humans” “We were searching for a cure, but we found a home” “Other than the genetic anomaly that causes me to turn into vicious carnivorous beast, you and me are really quite similar” “We enjoyed life with humans - it was simple and fulfilling” “But other wolves scared and killed people to assert their dominance over the town” “That’s when the werewolf wars began” “My pack defeated the others and banished them from the town” “I don’t know how long I can keep this covered up” “How have you kept it a secret this long?” “Don’t you miss like food? and people?” “I could always raise an army of wolves and take back the town”

[guzhuangheaven]

do you know what weddings were like for princes and princesses in the qing dynasty?

Most of this is based on information about Emperor Guangxu’s wedding to Empress Longyu. Obviously the emperor’s wedding is a lot more elaborate, but weddings of princes and princesses should be somewhat the same.

Sources: 1, 2, also Vietnamese book: Những người đàn bà của hoàng đế, Hướng Tư (2003), NXB Văn hóa – Thông tin

Normal people’s weddings during the Qing dynasty would consist of the following six ceremonies:

Proposal 纳采 nacai

Asking for the bride’s name and birthday 问名 wenming

Visit the fortune teller (to ensure that bride and groom’s birthdates are compatible 纳吉 naji

Prepare and send wedding gifts 纳征 nazheng

Choosing a ceremony date 请期 qingqi

Wedding ceremony 亲迎 qinying

For the emperor, this is reduced down to basically :

nacai

nazheng (for the emperor, it is called dazheng 大征, because the emperor’s marriage is referred to as the “great marriage” 大婚 dahun)

wedding ceremony combined with the investiture of the empress (in the cases of Shunzhi, Kangxi, Tongzhi, Guangxu who came to the throne before they were married)

(The whole things to do with asking for the birthdate and checking whether it’s compatible is pretty redundant considering if you are chosen to marry the emperor, you have already gone through the xiunv selection process which is pretty much the same thing.)

Timeline for Guangxu’s marriage:

2nd day 11th month 14th year of Guangxu era: proposal (nacai)

4th day 12th month 14th year: sending wedding gift (dazheng)

26th day 1st month 15th year: announce the betrothal to Heaven and Earth and the ancestral shrines

27th day 1st month 15th year: the empress enters the palace (fengying 凤迎, 凤 phoenix refers to the empress), investiture of the empress and wedding ceremony

2nd day 2nd month 15th year: ceremony of the empress paying respects to Empress Dowager Cixi (chaojian 朝见)

In normal weddings, the groom and/or his parents would present the betrothal/wedding gifts to the bride’s family himself, and then on the wedding day, the groom would go to the bride’s home to pick her up. However, as the emperor is considered too high and mighty to do any of that himself, for all these ceremonies, he would appoint several representatives consisting of one main commissioner (正使 zhengshi) and at least one deputy commissioner (副使 fushi) to carry out these tasks for him. These commissioners would be chosen among the princes or high-ranking officials close to the emperor.

Legend of Ruyi: Fu Heng being the zhengshi at Qian Long’s wedding to Ruyi, because nothing says fuck you true love like getting the brother of your dead first wife to be your proxy at the wedding to your second wife, whom your first wife hated and spent her last breaths more or less cursing. No wonder Fu Heng looks so happy.

(This appointment was historically accurate, but considering Langhua and Ruyi's relationship in this drama, this is such an asshole move. Fu Heng was the zhengshi at the investiture of the Step Empress into the position of Imperial Noble Consort as well.)

Nacai (proposal)

During the proposal ceremony, the commissioners will present betrothal gifts to the bride’s family. For Guangxu’s marriage, betrothal gifts consisted of four horses with saddles; ten suits of armour; one hundred bolts of brocade in yellow, red, orange, indigo, blue; and two hundred bolts of fabric, along with gold and silver household items. The horses and armour represent the Manchurian history of conquering China through martial prowess.

Afterwards, an engagement banquet is held at the bride’s house, prepared by the Imperial Tea Kitchen of the palace and at the expense of the imperial palace as a thank you to the bride’s family for raising her.

Dazheng (sending wedding gifts)

Wedding gifts will consist of gifts to members of the bride’s family, as well as items for the bride’s use after marriage. There is so much of it, tl;dr: they stupidly rich, Mr Darcy got nothing on them.

If you can read Vietnamese, here is the list of wedding gifts given for Guangxu’s wedding. This goes on for literally three more pages. I’m not translating it because my eyes glazes over every third line of jade descriptions.

Wedding and investiture of empress

On the wedding day, the emperor’s commissioners would take the emperor’s proclamation to create the empress, along with the empress’ golden book (金册) and golden seal (金宝), the physical manifestations of the empress’ power, to present to the bride.

Empress's golden book 金册 in Legend of Ruyi

Empress's golden seal 金宝 from the Palace Museum

The bride then will be brought into the palace on a golden palanquin (called 凤舆 fengyu) through the middle gate of the Meridian Gate into the palace.

Painting of Emperor Guangxu's wedding 光绪皇帝大婚图

During the journey, the bride would carry a ruyi scepter and an apple, both representing auspiciousness and peace.

Ruyi scepters were essential in imperial weddings. During the Qing dynasty, four emperors were married in the Forbidden City after their enthronement. Their weddings were luxurious spectacles and had fixed rituals. The Qing Palace Archives record the following:

On the eve of the wedding, the Grand Minister in Command of the Guard, Commissioner of the Imperial Procession Guard and their entourage carried the empress's sedan from the middle of the Gate of Heavenly Purity (Qianqing men) and placed it in the Palace of Heavenly Purity (Qianqing gong). Dispatched to receive the bride were four court ladies of high rank dressed in red were commanded to place inside the sedan chair a ruyi scepter and a scroll with the character for dragon (long) written by the emperor. Then these ladies as well as some female attendants of the Imperial Household Department prepared the bridal chamber and the bridal bed called "dragon and phoenix bed". The four ladies also set four ruyi scepters on the bed, one at each corner.

During the wedding, officials presented their gifts which all included a pair of ruyi scepters. They were also included in princesses' dowry. The Qianlong Emperor gave his daughter Hexiao Princess a set of nine pieces, and her husband a Ruyi with turquoise inlay. (x)

ruyi scepter

Apple is pingguo 苹果 which sounds the same as ping as in pingan 平安 (peaceful).

(full post)

Once reaching the steps of Qian Qing Gong (Palace of Heavenly Purity, the seat of the emperor), the bride will hand over the ruyi and apple, and then hold a golden jar (ping) and step over a brazier of coals, signalling burning away any bad luck.

Ruyi and Xiyue carrying jars (ping) as a symbol of luck on their wedding day

From Qian Qing Gong she makes her way to Kun Ning Gong (Palace of Earthly Tranquility), which is traditionally the seat of the empress of the Ming and Qing dynasties and were all weddings of emperors took place. Before entering Kun Ning Gong, she would also need to step over a horse saddle - 鞍, pronounced an, as in pingan 平安.

Not mentioned in the description of Guangxu’s wedding, but there is also another ritual where the groom would shoot three arrows at a target as a symbol of luck.

Qing dynasty royal weddings take place at night. During Guangxu’s wedding, Empress Longyu entered the her bridal sedan chair and departed her home at around 11:45pm, and reached the palace at around 4:45am, because walking ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Hejin 合卺

Hejin is the ceremony after the bride enters the bridal chamber, and the bride and groom drink a cup of wine together and share a meal, signalling the start of their married life.

卺 originally refers to splitting a hulu gourd in half, and 合卺 means to bring the two halves together, which is why in earlier dynasties you will see couples drinking their wedding wine out of two halves of a hulu gourd.

Afterwards there would also be a banquet at Taihe Dian (Hall of Supreme Harmony).

Chaojian 朝见

Normally the day after the wedding, the bride would pay respects to her in-laws by going to greet them, serve them tea and wine. With Guangxu’s wedding, this ceremony didn’t happen until several days later because they needed to wait for an auspicious day™.

See also:

Attend The Grand Wedding of the Guangxu Emperor

The Grand Wedding of China's Last Emperor

[soupy-sales2004]

Bowie Bible links to...

TIN MACHINE I (1989)~

Heaven's in Here

"...one of the first Tin Machine songs worked on, prior to the band’s existence. Bowie and Gabrels wrote and demoed a number of songs in Montreux, at a time when the project was considered to be a solo Bowie one."

Tin Machine

"...a fin de siècle screed that rants against the decadence of modern society. A succession of grim characters – “goons with muddy hair”, “the guy that beats his baby up”, “Working horrors-humping Tories” – parade past as Bowie sings of wanting to escape “this psycho time bomb planet”, being “grey and blown to hell” and, to contrast the solitude of ‘Sound And Vision’, “Raging raging raging/Burning in my room”.

Prisoner of Love

"The fact that my girlfriend is young, very naive and kind of straight is, for me, something I just would like her to retain for as long as she can. ’Cause there is so much crap out there, you know, and there’s nothing wrong with being like that. That’s why it’s got a very kind of corny ‘Just stay square’ line in it." [Bowie]

Crack City

"Built around a driving two-chord loop, Tin Machine’s offering was among the less subtle of the genre, with Bowie taking aim at dealers and users with an earnest yet crudely expletive-laden screed." [Bowie] "'I don’t wanna go on preaching but I’ve only heard a couple of anti-drug songs. Frankly, I don’t think many people are writing them, but I’ve not heard one that’s effective because they’re all intellectual, they’re all literate, and they’re written for other writers.'"

I Can't Read

"'I Can’t Read’ was worked up there. It’s one of my favourite songs from that record. It’s very reflective, but is really the sound of us, the chemistry of those players together, making something spontaneous. It might’ve been written before, but it was the first time it had been played by the band. And we did it literally minutes after a massive tropical downpour in the evening, when we’d all been off to look at these frogs. It was definitely an electric atmosphere when we did it." [Armstrong]

Under the God

"David and I had about five song ideas sketched out initially – ‘Heaven’s In Here’ and ‘Pretty Thing’ and a version of ‘Under The God’ that was called ‘Night Train’ at one point. We even kept some of the ‘Night Train’ backing vocals as a tip of the hat to James Brown, with a Sonny Boy Williamson guitar riff." [Gabrels]

Amazing

"A straightforward love song, ‘Amazing’ contains some of David Bowie’s clearest expressions of devotion: 'Since I found you my life’s amazing' is the core message, but there is also a hint of jealousy and possessiveness. 'I’m scared you’ll meet someone/In whom you’ll confide,' he sings, and later: 'My nightmare, rooted here watching you go'."

Working Class Hero

"That’s always been a really favourite song of mine. I like that first John Lennon album a hell of a lot. I think all the songs are really beautifully written and, again, very straight from the shoulder. There’s an honestly in the lyrics there. And that particular song, I thought, would sound great as a rock song. It seemed very worth doing."

Bus Stop

The song’s lyrics, a brief vignette about a man who finds Jesus at a bus stop, brought a moment of levity to the often dour Tin Machine album. The pen portrait of city life brought to mind some of Bowie’s earliest songwriting styles, although in 1967 he never managed lines like “I’m not saying that I don’t believe you/But are you sure that it really was him?/I’ve been told that it could’ve been blue cheese/Or the meal that we ate down the road”.

Pretty Thing

Although inevitably bringing to mind the 1960s beat group The Pretty Things and Bowie’s own ‘Oh! You Pretty Things’, Tin Machine’s song is one of their less inspired moments, a leaden rock-out with bluntly sexist lyrics. As an example of Tin Machine at their laddish worst, and how Bowie dumbed down his lyrics at the turn of the Nineties, it’s hard to beat.

Video Crime

"Horror films and video games were among the social menaces warned against by sections of the media in the late Eighties. In 1988 the film Child’s Play was accused of inciting violence among children, and games such as Leisure Suit Larry and Splatterhouse were criticised in some quarters for adult content including lewdness, violence, gore, and obscenities."

Run

While on the surface a love song, ‘Run’ has a far darker heart. It is a song of desperation and addiction, of people being held back by their vices. 'I’m a Goldman, I’m a soaring tower/And it’s cold in here without your love,' Bowie sings. 'Trouble in here, trouble out there/Mainline problems ’til you no longer care'."

Sacrifice Yourself

"Although written by David Bowie and the Sales brothers, the star of ‘Sacrifice Yourself’ is arguably lead guitarist Reeves Gabrels, whose layered and intricate lines are delivered at speed, rarely letting up for the song’s entirety. Bowie’s lyrics, meanwhile, appear to be semi-autobiographical, referencing 'a Klingon who could cream him in the press" and, in the final verse, cocaine and ‘Suffragette City’ ('Wham bam, thank you Charlie')."

Baby Can Dance

When it came to the guitar parts, we thought about them in terms of architecture – Gothic spirals of sound. This is where the art-school background really helps, because we rarely speak in musical terms." [Gabrels]

[goodvibesandmemes]

VIDEO GAME MEMES: “Mass Effect” (2007) 🌌💫🪐 ↳ Please feel free to tweak them etc.

Themes: space, violence, weapons, military, technology

“In case you hadn't noticed, this whole place is falling apart!.” “Oh crap, a pop-up!” “You think I'm crazy, don't you?” “Why is it whenever someone says "with all due respect", they really mean "kiss my ass"?” “Exhilarating, isn't it?” “I think we're gonna need a bigger boot.” “You swore to protect the galaxy. Then you broke that vow to save yourself.” “We have no beginning. We have no end. We are infinite. Millions of years after your civilization has been eradicated and forgotten, we will endure.” “Your mission ends here, [ name ].” “I'm pleased that the imminent destruction of all organic life has improved you career opportunities.” “What is it about you that makes people think we enjoy being in harm's way?” “You trying to make me cry, [ name ]?” “Sometimes crazy is the best way to go.” “Rudimentary creatures of blood and flesh.” “You can't handle this.” “If aliens express their opinions at gunpoint, then why shouldn't we?” “Huh. Nobody died.” “You all know the mission, and what is at stake.” “You can't bludgeon your way through bureaucracy, [ name ].” “You must have had some kind of interesting experience.” “Who votes to take the vehicle into the creepy underground tunnel?” “I don't think this is a VI.” “ In the battle today, we will hold the line!” “[ group / name ] can kiss my ass!” “If by "secure" you mean "shoot every monster I see," sure.” “You don't truly believe that. And if you do, I am very sorry for you.” “That never gets old, does it?” “I hate that [ guy / etc ].” “Next time we touch down, let's try not to park the ship in a colony of mutant zombies. Just thinking out loud here.” “[ name ] gave you a compliment, so you hate him?” “Is it madness to see the future?” “I thought you were a hero! Heroes don't do things like this! I wish I'd never met you!” “Don't try it.” “Please tell me you didn't hear that.” “You cannot silence the truth! My voice must be heard!” “I have come to trust each of you with my life.” “You must have family other than your [ father / mother / sibling / etc ]. Don't you miss them?” “They probably just want to keep everything running.” “You’re paranoid.” “Surrender. Or don't. That would be more fun.” “You have the right to remain silent. I wish to God you'd exercise it.” “I could shoot someone if it would make you feel better.” “We're gonna need bigger guns.” “I haven't been shot in the head nearly enough times to make that sound like a good idea.” “Our numbers will darken the sky of every world.” “Yeah, well if you want me in a tin foil mini skirt and thigh-high boots, I'm gonna need dinner first...” “We are trained for espionage. We would be legends, but the records are sealed.” “You exist because we allow it, and you will end because we demand it.” “We must fight against them as one!” “You don't take much shore leave, do you?” “Let's not start a fight.” “Just because I like you doesn't mean I won't kill you.”

[jeonjeonggukenergy]

Anti-Hero

summary ~ in search of wine at a party that’s so not your scene, you run into jungkook, the weeb from your film class, and become determined to learn just how much he lives up to his big reputation.

pairing ~ jungkook x reader

genre ~ fluff, smut - college!au

wordcount ~ 8.5k

warnings ~ 18+ only! smut, explicit discussion of kinks/sexual preferences (yay healthy communication), dom/sub undertones during both discussion and sex (dom Jungkook, sub reader), mentions of daddy kink and degradation but both are a no, marking, biting, hair pulling, spanking, they both have a srs pain kink lmao, brief oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, creampie

a/n ~ SO excited to finally have this chapter out for yall! it’s a huge one and i’ve been working on it for quite a while, this includes the first full smut scene for this fic and i would love to know how yall like it or any other feedback. i really enjoyed writing the character development in this chapter too! they’re so cute and whipped for each other already hhhhhh. thank you so much for loving this story so far, i’m really looking forward to writing the rest. hope you enjoy! ❣️

previous: chapter 1 | chapter 2 ~ next: chapter 4 (coming soon!) 

~ read on ao3 ~

CHAPTER 3 ~ particular, perfect

You concluded your walk home by ditching your shoes at the door, swinging your bag off your shoulders to the floor, and plopping down onto the couch immediately. Pulling all three nearby blankets over yourself, you realized you still weren't quite comfortable. You looked around for a second, puzzled, until an absentminded clutch of your boobs reminded you why. Triumphantly, you reached into a sleeve to untangle your bra and chucked it across the room with a deep stretch of relief. Okay, time to overthink again.

Jungkook? What the fuck?

Wait. A bag of chips on the kitchen counter caught your eye before you could descend any further into panic. The perfect emotional crutch. You clutched it to your chest like a safeguard against your own internal monologue, anxiously shoving handful after handful into your mouth. After about thirty minutes spent motionless on the couch with one hand shoved in the chip bag and the other distractedly scrolling through Twitter, your eyes suddenly widened and your hand froze, dropping your next bite of chips back into the bag. Fuck. You had just eaten nearly an entire family-size bag of chips before what could end up being your first fuck in over a year. Well, maybe this was part of why you hadn't gotten fucked in over a year. No, don't go there. You shoved down your own insecurity, knowing you'd just been too busy for a relationship and honestly, probably still were. But that wasn't going to stop you today.

You shook the chip dust off of your hands and got up to head to the shower, turning up your trashiest throwback playlist of getting-ready bops and resolving to at least shave your legs. Going in with no expectations was probably the best strategy here, but it never hurt to be prepared.

~

Having cleaned his apartment in record time, Jungkook was now at the gym. After triple-checking that his roommate Jin would be in rehearsal until 10pm at the earliest, he quickly scanned all the common spaces and his bedroom and realized he didn't actually have that much work to do besides politely closing the door to Jin's still-decent-but-somewhat-messier room. To be honest, Jungkook had mainly bought himself the time after class so he could shave just in case. But then he figured if he had to shower, he might as well hit the gym first. So here he was, burning off an unprecedented amount of nervous energy. Settling comfortably into the leg curl machine, he turned his music up and started on a low weight to put in reps until his thighs burned and his head felt pleasantly empty.

After completing his normal leg day rotation and dutifully stretching, Jungkook prepared to head home. He walked out of the gym feeling more energized and centered, barely even flinching when he switched his AirPods off to say bye to the nice girl at the front desk and the action accidentally blasted "Whistle" by Flo Rida from his phone speaker for the whole lobby to hear. As he walked back into his apartment, the kitchen clock let him know it was only 4:30. He had plenty of time. Jungkook hopped straight into the shower, shampooing his hair, shaving everywhere he normally did, and savoring several extra moments to relax his muscles under the hot stream of water. Finally, he toweled off to wrap up in the black t-shirt and cozy matching sweatpants he'd carefully stacked on the counter. Offhandedly singing to himself in the steamy mirror, he checked the time on his phone, deciding he might as well go ahead and text you before he got nervous again and did something stupid. Like chickening out completely.

hey its jk! im ready when u are :) my apt is 344 glencoe rd #1521 (yes its on the 15th floor sry D: )

His charming old-school smileys lit up your phone while you still had a leg perched on the bathtub's edge.

"Fuck!" you reacted. The hiss resounded, thanks to the too-good acoustics of your cramped bathroom. Your razor clattering to the floor, you paused your max-volume 2000s music to check the message, and then the time. Only 5! That wasn't dinnertime yet. Plugging his address into Google Maps, though, you realized it was a 15- to 20-minute drive from yours on the opposite end of campus. Even if you got ready at light-speed, you would get there closer to 5:30. Which was a bit more reasonable. He was being reasonable! You should be ready by now!

You leaned over to pick up your razor and cursed again as the water stream grazed the blouse you'd left on out of laziness. You'd showered this morning, so there was no need to repeat that with your shave, but now you'd have to change outfits completely. Feeling like an idiot, naked from the waist down but now all the way wet, you peeled the shirt over your head slowly to preserve your good hair day and glanced down at the dilemma you'd been facing. The patch of hair between your legs stared back at you like the final boss of stupid societal beauty standards. You'd only shaved down there once, as an anniversary present for your first boyfriend the summer before college, and it had been a fun, smooth novelty for about two hours and then itchy, red, gross-looking, and miserable for about three weeks. Also, it had kind of made you feel like a little girl, which creeped you out when you thought about why guys would prefer it. You'd been debating whether to try it again for the past fifteen minutes, because if there was ever a right time, this was probably it. But now you didn't have time, if you were going to be respectful and not keep Jungkook waiting. Well, this was the real you. He could take it or leave it.

Slathering a quick coat of lotion over your freshly shaved legs, you prepared to get dressed in a soft pastel sweatshirt and a flattering pair of workout shorts. Wait, should you wear lingerie? Was that too try-hard? You didn't really even need to wear underwear with these lined shorts, which could be a cool-girl move, you supposed. You settled on a cute white sports bra to go with the shorts, not wanting to deal with a real bra and hoping it still appealed to Jungkook's casual, athletic style. You checked yourself in the mirror briefly before grabbing your bag, confirming you looked chill enough but still felt like your best color-coordinated self. Heading out, you shoved a tin of chrysanthemum green tea in your water bottle pocket. Why not?

~

You whizzed over to Jungkook's apartment, yelling along to "Sex With Me" by Rihanna from your throwback playlist to hype you up in the car. When you knocked on his door after a nerve-wrackingly long elevator ride, Jungkook welcomed you with a "C'mon in!" amidst a mouthful of shrimp chips.

"It's not really dinnertime yet," (yeah, no kidding, you thought) "I went ahead and worked out but it's still kind of early, so I figured we could just have a snack and do the homework first."

"Sounds good," you affirmed. "I'm not really that hungry," (read: there's no way I can eat chips AGAIN right now, I'm going to bloat so badly) "but I brought tea so I can go ahead and make that if you want some too!"

"Oh cool, thanks!" Jungkook accepted. "Are you sure you're not hungry though?"

You almost gave into his sweet pout, but managed to convince him, and soon you both sat at the table with laptops open and twin cups of tea. You had a blast working together for the first time, acting out your "conversation" for the discussion board and pretending to respond spontaneously to each other's points like you hadn't already excitedly rambled back and forth through them in real life. You hit "send" five minutes apart, your idea to not seem too suspicious, and kept raving over Rear Window in between. As the sun lowered outside his living room window, you moved on to making the ramen.

After three offers to help Jungkook, all of which he denied, you simply made another steep of the tea, leaving a mug on the counter for him. Standing at the bar counter sipping yours, you enjoyed all the tiny, cute noises he made while chopping green onions and sprinkling extra garlic in the seasoning, like an anime character who came with his own sound effects. You could tell he made these recipe additions every time, because bulk quantities of the same simple ingredients lined the counters of his cozy kitchen. When he beat two eggs and dropped them into the pot, though, he couldn't seem to find a lid, and eventually settled on trapping the steam with a plate. You both waited on the egg for a silent moment, your foot bouncing under the bar while Jungkook restlessly acquired a slight wiggle. As he took a sip of his tea, a strand of hair fell over his eyes, and he yeeted it out of his face. Your inner language nerd cringed, but there really was no more apt word to describe the action.

You offhandedly said you liked his hair long, and he replied with a smile, "Maybe I'll have to keep it then."

"Do you like it too?" you wondered.

"Honestly no, it's kind of inconvenient."

"Oh, then why would you keep it?" you immediately asked back.

"Well..." he dragged out. "You like it? Maybe I should keep it if it looks better this way."

Your eyes crinkled appreciatively at his thoughtfulness, but then you backtracked. "Wait, no, it's okay! If you don't like it, don't feel like you have to keep it just because of something I said. You can do whatever you want."

"Hm, yeah." A demure smile tugged up the corner of his mouth as he lifted the plate from the ramen pot.

You watched him drag a chopstick through the floating, now-cooked egg to tear it into ribbons, then divide the noodles between two generously-sized bowls. He carefully wiped down the drips of broth from each bowl before sprinkling in his fresh toppings, then walked with you to the table.

Serving you with a pleased smile and a slight nod, he announced, "Dinner!"

"Wow," you mused playfully. "So gourmet."

"I'm really particular about my ramen," he admitted. "I have it down to a perfect routine at this point."

You took your first slurp of his particular, perfect ramen. "Well, it's really good. I'm impressed. And thanks for making me dinner, you didn't have to do all that."

"Oh, come on, it's instant ramen," he laughed. "Nothing special. And you brought the tea, so thanks. And thanks for coming over. And doing the homework with me. And...yeah." Rambling again. Why did he seem so...nervous? You were nervous. He couldn't be nervous. What reason did he have to be? But the twitch of his mouth under his wide eyes, his slightly reddened ears, his hand skittering over his neck—fuck—to ruffle his hair...every action turned another page of his open book. It felt infuriatingly unfair that genetics had assigned someone so sweet and shy and unsure of himself to that fucking body.

While you both ate and talked, you kept catching glimpses of any small flashes of skin you could find, as his long sleeves fell to expose his forearms and the wide neckline of his boxy black shirt gaped around his collarbones. What was wrong with you? Even if this did eventually turn into a dick appointment, the boy still had literally all of his clothes on. You tried to refocus on finishing your noodles, while your brain screamed at itself in shame that you could get this turned on by the sight of someone covered from neck to ankle.

Jungkook ate surprisingly slowly, probably because he kept pausing to excitedly explain his favorite things about the Cowboy Bebop episode you were about to watch together. You smiled into your tea through every out-of-context fun fact and "wait, sorry, that might have been a spoiler!"

Finally, he reached the bottom of his bowl and insisted on both taking your dishes to the sink and leaving them for him to clean later. "You sure you want to start on episode 2? Not 1?"

"Yeah, I remember well enough and your summary helped a lot too!"

"Okay, if you're positive!" he double-checked, grabbing the remote.

Gingerly lowering yourselves to the couch in sync, you avoided looking at each other as you both tried to calculate a comfortable distance between you. His hand looked ready to either hold yours or lower to your thigh, but he retracted at the last second, smoothing it over his own leg anxiously and still clearly itching to make a move. You shuffled closer to him until your thighs barely touched, and he shifted to slink an arm around you, letting your head rest on his well-muscled shoulder. After pressing “play”, he began wiggling slightly again, subconsciously grooving to the old-newspaper-style intro. Spike Spiegel appeared on the screen, his broad shoulders squared into a slouch as he listlessly watched TV. Jungkook kicked one leg over another and stretched his arms out symmetrically to echo the pose. Raising an eyebrow, he waited until you acknowledged him with a faux grimace and a hand to your ear, imitating the old man in a lab who’d just called up Spike for a new mission. You both burst into laughter and settled back into your former arrangement, Jungkook holding you imperceptibly tighter. Though you tried to stay staring straight ahead, wanting to genuinely appreciate the anime, you kept catching his doe eyes in the corner of your sight as you both giggled and gasped your way through the episode.

After avoiding eye contact too many times, you finally tilted your head for a cute sideways view of his face. He leaned toward you too, shyly closing the gap to touch his warm lips to your nose, then lower. You responded immediately, rolling your body with his so your chests met as he pulled you up into a full, deeper kiss. The longer you explored each other's mouths, the more Jungkook punctuated your movements with whimpers. He seemed hesitant to let his hands roam away from your face and neck, but his high, breathy moans made it clear that he was just as into this as you. Your hands had naturally found his taut waist, and at some point you started to bring them back up to his face too—but as your short nails grazed his chest, a particularly sensual, voice-cracking moan interrupted you. You drew back in slight surprise, blinking your eyes open to scan from his face to his body.

He followed your gaze, both slowly settling on the massive tent in his pants. You froze. Your breath grew heavier, confronted with evidence of his physical attraction to you, if nothing else. After regaining his composure, he laid a useless hand over his lap in a delicate attempt to distract you and brought his other hand up to tap your face lightly.

"Is this okay?"

His eyes glittered with equal parts hunger and concern.

"Yes!" you nodded, too quickly, too eagerly. "Yes, this is totally okay. Sorry if I'm being weird, I just...it's been a while." You cringed internally at your own words, but couldn't seem to avoid putting your foot further in your mouth. "I haven't really, like, hooked up like this before—like, I've had sex, but never really outside of a relationship. But don't worry, I get this is more your thing, and I'm totally down if you are. I just don't really know what I'm doing, and you clearly do."

Jungkook blinked at your admission, then his face twisted into something curious, inscrutable. Would he decide you weren't worth the potential for drama? His lips flattened out to a tight line, then pursed to speak, and you looked down at your lap, hoping he wasn't as embarrassed of you as you now were of yourself.

"Well, I've never had sex sober."

Your eyes flashed back up to his. A complex half-smirk offset the furrow in his brow as he exhaled in nervous relief. "So, I don't actually know what I'm doing here either."

You tried to delay your response as you processed the implications. "You mean..." You tilted your head for better eye contact, hoping to convey empathy but not pity while you silently contemplated how to proceed. "Never?"

"Yeah, I've always shown up to parties and the hookups just...happened. Nothing I didn't want, nothing bad like that, but always spontaneous. So I guess we're kind of meeting in the middle, because I've never really had to plan ahead for a situation like this and, uh, figure out what I want. Beyond, yknow, wanting to get laid in the moment, of course." Jungkook laughed off the end of his explanation, but the smile never quite hit his eyes.

"Well, okay, let's pause right there." You sighed. Something in his words didn't sit right with you. "What do you want? I want you to be sure about this, of course, but more than that, even—what do you like?"

"I..." he chuckled, sheepish, shaking his hair over his face again. "What, you want me to just tell you? Like, what I'm into?"

"Yeah," you shrugged, trying to project more confidence than you felt in hopes of encouraging him to keep opening up. "I want you to be able to communicate, I want you to be comfortable. And I want to know what you like, so I can make it as good for you as possible."

With your hands still laid flat on his chest, you felt his heart rate jump a tiny bit, and took the liberty of digging your nails in just slightly deeper. His breath caught him, and then he caught himself. "I don't know, I just want what you want."

Jungkook struggled to appear nonchalant as you rolled your eyes with an "Oh, come on," challenging his avoidance. Every instinct was telling him yes. He could hear his mind screaming at him to be intentional for once and let you take him, if not farther, then deeper than ever before. But he still hesitated, because being intentional in this case required him to be real. He had always been a fairly private person, but something about you made him feel so comfortable so fast that it counterintuitively made him more nervous. Of course Jungkook knew you weren't all innocent at this point, but the risk remained that you wouldn't really be down for everything he secretly wanted to explore. Even worse, though he didn't truly think you would, you could easily turn around and spin anything he revealed into yet another graphic rumor. Especially since you had no skin in the game yourself. He glanced down at your fingers, tensed into his chest, and narrowed his eyes.

"Why don't you tell me what you like first? And then I can tell you where we overlap," he grinned competitively. Your eyes widened as he tossed the challenge back your way. Not backing down, you flattened your hands and steeled yourself to settle the stakes.

"Fine—but only if you promise not to just go along with whatever I say. I'll let you know anything that's a hard no for me, but otherwise I want to hear at least one thing that's not on my list. I really do want what you want, that's how I am too, okay? So..." you paused to slide your fingertips over his collar and drag it down with a light scratch, now directly on his skin. You smiled with your eyes, enjoying the way he naturally responded with a hitch of his breath again. "Surely you can think of something specific."

He nodded quickly, before he could convince himself to back out. "Yeah. Promise."

"Okay," you confirmed, slightly nervous but determined to go through with this, for Jungkook's sake if anything. Seeing his body come alive with each new twist of the situation was building your curiosity, not to mention turning you on beyond belief. You could barely stand the warmth of his skin under your hands, so you drew them back to fold in your lap as you began. "So. Uh. To start. I've never really laid it all out like this either. I really like neck kisses? Like, a lot." Equally unused to this kind of directness, you wrung your hands together nervously, but sucked up the boldness to keep elaborating. "That's definitely, like, a big thing that turns me on...and then getting marked up and everything is really hot to me too. Like you can honestly go really rough with me on that, bite me even. I don't know if this is weird but even though it's annoying to cover up, I love taking off the makeup at the end of the day and seeing all the bruises on myself. Knowing I was walking around all day with that as my little secret." You swallowed shyly before continuing, but Jungkook interrupted the brief silence immediately with a hushed "Fuck."

You turned to face him fully and he didn't even move to meet your stare, eyeing the space above your sweatshirt's wide neckline like he was ready to devour you. Emboldened, your smile grew.

"So...yeah. I like being bitten, marked up. Mostly, uh," you rubbed a slightly trembling hand over your shoulder, "I'm just really into pain in general. Obviously not the bad 'I'm too dry and you're jackhammering me' kind of pain, or like, anal. Anal is a hard no. But things like biting, or hair pulling, or overstimulation. Or, like—I don't really know how to explain this, but...getting held too hard? That deep pain like when you get a massage when you're sore and it hurts but it's good, yknow?"

Jungkook looked like he was about to vibrate out of his skin, breathing shallow and rapid. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, just in time for you to whisper in conclusion:

"I love that feeling."

You suddenly looked away, reticent. A thick silence swelled between you, until he composed himself enough to punctuate it. "Okay. Yeah. Pain. So like, BDSM?"

"I mean, kind of? Sure? I don't have much experience with that and I don't really need the whole power dynamic aspect; I just like the, uh, physical pain. I wouldn't be opposed to trying further, but one thing I do know is I really don't like being degraded. And I'm not into the whole daddy kink thing either. I'm just not gonna call you that, sorry," you laughed, and fortunately he giggled too. "But I know that's not, like, necessary to the rest of BDSM, and the part about giving up control is still...interesting, for sure."

"Wait," Jungkook cocked his head, making a mental note of your last sentence before he went back to the previous one. "What do you mean, being degraded?"

You half-chuckled, half-cringed, never having needed to explain something like this, especially to a guy you hopefully were about to fuck. Cheers to better communication, you supposed.

"You know, how some people when they do dirty talk are like 'yeah, you little slut, you're such a whore.' I don't like being called any of that. Like it's fine that other people like it, there's nothing wrong with that, it's just really uncomfortable for me."

His brows knit together as you explained, and he shook his head so fast it almost looked cartoonish, like a little kid refusing vegetables. "Yeah, no. Don't worry, not really my thing either."

You sighed in relief. "That's nice. I feel like it's, like, weirdly common with guys. Maybe just the kind of thing people learn from porn."

"But you still like it rough, huh? Did you learn that...from porn?" he half-joked, trying to overcome both his shyness and his gritted-teeth arousal.

"No, I don’t like porn. Most of it’s really unethical. I learned from experience," you sassed back. "I don't have a whole lot, but enough to know what I like."

"Well. Hm." He worked his tongue over his teeth, poking one cheek out over his tensed jaw. You couldn't get enough of watching him grow fascinated by your every revelation, and you were preparing to keep pressing further when he beat you to it, posing a question. "Is there anything you haven't tried before, but really want to?"

Your face heated up instantly, tasting your own medicine. You looked back to your hands, breaking his intense eye contact to give yourself the courage to be even more uncomfortably honest. "I...I...um." Your first attempt at disclosing your fantasy came out as a squeak. Swallowing, you set your shoulders and tried again, selfishly reminding yourself Jungkook seemed so eager to please that this was 99% likely to get you exactly what you wanted. "I've always been, uh, really into the idea of, um, getting spanked. I've been, uh, too nervous to ever bring it up, before now obviously, but it's definitely one of the biggest kinks I've always wanted to try. Maybe being tied up too, I think I'd like it if I tried but I haven't thought about that as much. But, yeah...spanking, definitely."

"Fuuuuuuuuck."

A lengthened version of Jungkook's earlier under-breath exclamation made you peer up at him. Your thighs already pressed together from the tension of admitting something totally new, you found yourself needing even more friction just from the sight of Jungkook with his head thrown back on the couch, a veiny hand threaded in his hair to pull the long waves back from his forehead. The full reveal of his sharp eyebrows brought a whole new level of intensity to Jungkook's already beautifully carved features. He glanced over at you, then squeezed his eyes shut with a terse exhale. You couldn't place why, but you felt a deep attraction to the way he expertly restrained himself from acting on the lust written over his face—not under your control, but his own.

"Oh, fuck. What the fuck. How the fuck would you fucking know," he swore more in a single burst than he cumulatively had ever in your presence.

"What?" you toyed, heart rate still high but relaxed enough to enjoy agitating him. "Something ring a bell?"

Jungkook shuddered out a long breath, hand ruffling his hair as his other forearm still tried desperately to subdue his boner.

"Everything," he hissed, more willing to elaborate now that you had done the same, and especially now that he could tell you really did enjoy him being more assertive. "Shit. I...I want...I know you said not to just say this but I really do want everything you want. I can't wait to mark you up. I can't wait to hold you down and bruise your neck. I want it all, I want to make you hurt so good. And then—" Breathless. He looked almost embarrassed. "Then you had to go and somehow guess basically my biggest fucking kink, I can't fucking believe you." Both hands had come up to seize his long locks as he held himself back physically, while finally letting his guard down mentally to declare everything he intended to do to you. Letting out a short laugh, he finally met your eyes. "I wanna spank your ass bright red. Fuck. This is crazy. You're perfect."

Your core throbbed at every bold word. Leaning in close to him, you let your lips approach Jungkook's beautifully sculpted jawline as he panted, his chin tossed up to fully expose his neck. You stopped just short of his skin, in awe of how much you'd been able to work him up and still so tempted to take it to the next level. "Fuck," you echoed. "This is so hot," you murmured almost to yourself. Your eyes closing along with his, you dealt the final blow. "I love that we have so much in common. But come on, you promised. One thing that's not on my list."

Jungkook whined. You could tell he needed to touch you so badly, and no one was stopping him but himself. He had no way of knowing that if he cut the whole discussion and just took you, you wouldn't even try to resist at this point. Staring at his trembling mouth from below, you quickly averted your eyes when he opened his, pretending you hadn't been looking. He inhaled a short hiss, and then spoke.

"Okay..." He paused after just the first word, blowing air through the tiny "o" of his mouth as his eyes bugged slightly from nervousness. He couldn't resist a challenge, though, and his urge to please you overwhelmed his reluctance to peel back one more layer. "So, the pain thing. I think we, uh, feel the same about me giving and you receiving. But...I'm really into it for myself too. I don't know if you'd be comfortable with it, I know you maybe want me to be more dominant and I think I like that more too in general, but you can be as rough with me as you want back. I'd love that." Eyes still open but fluttering, Jungkook's tone grew breathier, heady as he confessed. You almost giggled at how bashfully he worded his desire to dominate you, to rough each other up, but the contrast was so hot you couldn't help sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, eager for him to continue. His voice lowered. "I love being scratched, marked, bitten...hit me, push me back, any kind of pain or any way you can hurt me, I want it." He shivered, but his voice firmed up even further. "I want it so bad."

You fought to stay motionless beside him, unable to even process how much more his honesty had turned you on. You felt helpless in your desire for him, your craving to give him everything he wanted and more. He noticed your charged stillness and shifted toward you, removing a hand from his hair to finally reach for your face. Threading his fingers through your hair instinctively like he had with his own, he tilted your head back to access your neck. Jungkook finally felt confident enough to tease you back as he skimmed his lips over your pulse point, tugging your skin between his teeth for a gentle first taste and grinning when you moaned. Seeing someone so satisfied, for reasons better than just his body or their pride, brought the most incredible rush of blood to his head. And his other head.

"And I get why you want it too," he finished with a whisper in your ear. "So trust me when I say I really, really want to give it to you."

In an instant, your hands yanked his hair down to bring his face up to yours, mouths crashing together. Feverish, restless, you kissed him, hastily attempting to straddle his thick thighs before he threw his body over yours and pinned you to the back of the couch. His hands wandered, intrepid, from your waist to a quick squeeze of your breasts before he spiraled you into his strong arms. Pressing your chest flush with his as your mouths meshed, he ground his hips into you shamelessly, enjoying the way you struggled beneath him to align your core with his rock-hard dick.

"Your room?" You rushed out the words.

Jungkook laughed a little, his tone half whine and half dare. "So we're done talking?"

"Come on," you pleaded back. He finally relented, pulling you up with him and dragging you across the living room and through his door, lips not leaving yours for a second. You backed him into the bed with your arms against his strong chest, and once he was sitting perched on the edge, you laid yourself horizontally over his thighs.

"What are you doing?" he murmured, curling a hand over the dip of your waist to hold you gently.

You angled your head back to make unsteady eye contact with him, flipping your shorts down boldly. His free hand automatically reached to slowly conform to the shape of your ass, so eager to touch you but tentative as he grazed your curves.

"Giving you exactly what you want."

"Fuck. Really? You're sure about this?" Jungkook held careful eye contact as you brought your arms back up, crossing your wrists over your head delicately. You nodded slightly and did your best to meet his gaze with confident invitation, convincing him how much you trusted and wanted him.

He smoothed his warm hand over your ass one more time, then brought it up and watched your thighs tighten at the loss of his touch. Breathing in, still a little shakily, he brought his hand down on your right cheek with a loud but mild smack. A grunt of satisfaction involuntarily left him when he saw your face flinch down into the sheets, subduing a small noise of surprise. He returned his hand to caress the light redness he'd left, checking in with you again. "Is this okay? Let me know if I should stop."

You replied with your face still tucked between your arms, muffled by the bed. "More than okay. Please don't stop."

He spanked you again, moving to your left cheek. This time you felt his dick twitch under you and couldn't help grinding down on him a little bit. "Is that as hard as you can go?" you taunted in low tones, brave enough to egg him on but not quite enough to meet his eyes again.

Jungkook's thighs and core tensed under you, and he squeezed his fingertips tighter, digging into the skin of your ass. "Not at all," he said simply.

Deep breath. A few seconds passed, and his hand came down, harshly. You cried out in shock, the timing unexpected and the sting far sharper, and he gave your other cheek a fourth hard smack before you could even process the third one. "Harder?" he tested. "Tell me."

Another spank. "Mmmf."

"You like this, huh?"

"Yes, I told you," you whimpered back, half-teasing even though you were in no position to do so. Immediately, he cut you off with a stinging hit across both cheeks, and you moaned.

"You really do," he breathed lowly. "Fuck yeah. Take it then."

He spanked you again, and again, then paused, tugging down your shorts all the way to your ankles to expose the crease right above your thighs. Rubbing your already sore bottom, Jungkook cupped the underside of its curve in his big, firm hand. Already anticipating your whine, he drew back his touch and hummed in harmony with you. He continued landing satisfyingly hard smacks, alternating to cover your ass evenly. His dick strained through his pants more and more each time you trembled under his touch. Never hitting you hard enough to do serious damage, he still clearly enjoyed his thorough reddening of your ass, and occasionally took a moment just to caress your skin as it warmed from the spanking. The pain lit your senses up from head to toe. Face burning with deep arousal, you mentally thanked yourself for going out of your comfort zone and unprecedentedly admitting your kinks before even venturing into your first time together. Amidst the thrilling sting of his hand meeting your soft curves, Jungkook eventually noticed your thighs clenching together, craving friction but not really wanting relief from the pleasurable burn.

"You're wet," he marveled, sliding two warm fingers up and down your slit.

"Mhm," you mumbled back as you tilted your hips into his hand. He gave you a light slap right on the folds between your legs, eliciting another soft moan.

"So good for me," Jungkook said softly, pulling you up into his lap by your waist. "You look so pretty like this. I wanna see all of you." He tugged your sweatshirt over your head, followed by your sports bra, thankful that it stretched over your head easily. Suddenly grinning, he wound up and shot it across the room like a rubber band, and you smacked his arm, giggling.

"What was that? You cheeseball," you teased, and he blinked, chuckling lightly back. It occurred to him that he'd never laughed, or made someone laugh, during sex before.

"It was so stretchy! Don't make fun of me," he blushed.

"You're so cute," you said, fingers sliding under his t-shirt hem.

"Cute?" His eyebrows rose in mock disbelief, and he reached around to land another hit to your still-red asscheek.

"Hot," you amended. Raising his shirt and finally getting a full glimpse of his enviable abs, you groaned. "You're extremely hot, and also really cute, and it's kind of ridiculous and I don't really know how to handle all of it at once."

His face scrunching up into a smile at the praise, he fell back onto the bed with his arms behind his head. "You are too, you know. Really cute, of course. But really hot too." As you discarded his shirt and moved on to easing his sweatpants down his hips, you held in a gasp as his erection sprung up from the waistband. He was big, thick, and painfully hard, his tip glistening warm with precum and a lone vein running prominently up his smooth shaft. Although you wouldn't be corroborating them, you had to admit to yourself that all the rumors were true. You instinctively curled a hand around it, barely covering half his length, and he winced at your slightest touch. Pulling off with a single slow stroke, you slid his sweatpants and briefs all the way to the floor and then stood, looking up from his legs to his blown-out eyes to take in the glorious sight of his fully naked body.

"You shave," you said, surprised by the clean skin under his arms and between his legs.

"Yeah," he demurred, self-conscious for some reason. He lowered his arms to fold them over his torso, somehow defining his biceps even more. "I'm on the dance team, and it's nice to feel all smooth for practice and stuff. I don't know, I just like it."

"Oh, that's cool! No worries, I like it too. And you don't mind that..." You looked down at yourself, still just standing naked in front of him. "...I don't? Like, down there at least."

"No, you do you!" he said quickly. With a shy smile, he admitted, "I actually kind of like it on you. I do this for me, anyway, not for anyone else," he playfully noted. Slowly, he was sitting up to take hold of your waist and lower you down to the bed with him. Pausing to kiss the sweet spot under your jaw, he continued. "So don't feel like you have to do anything, or not do anything, either."

Jungkook couldn't quite explain the nature of how his attraction to you had developed. Seeing how open and honest you were with him made it easy for him to be honest with you too, and just to feel comfortable being himself. He admired the way he could still tell you sometimes got nervous like him, but it didn’t stop you from getting real or going bolder. Unable to fully express it in words, he just hoped to ensure you felt as comfortable and respected around him as he did around you. He already knew that he wanted this to be more than just a one-time thing, and while he still hesitated to assume that you felt the same, he intended to leave no doubt by the end of the night.

You moaned as he nipped at the skin of your neck. It was so easy to get swept back up in Jungkook. You could barely handle the friction of his dick rutting against your wet folds from below, craving him inside you. "Ughhh. Wait, one more thing. I'm on the pill, are you clean?"

"Yes," he gasped, barely removing his mouth from your jaw. "Are you?"

"Yeah, so we don't need a condom. If that's cool with you!"

"Yeah! But, you're ready?" He seemed surprised.

"Aren't you?" you whined, beyond holding back. He felt so unbearably hard that his coherence and willpower kind of surprised you too. "Please, I want you so bad."

To your surprise, he lowered his head to the crest of your legs, dotting wet kisses down your torso. Keeping his big brown eyes on you, he teased your entrance with a finger and echoed your immediate groan at the welcome stretch.

"You really are ready," he remarked, awed at the ease with which your wetness sucked the digit in. Frankly, you were in awe as well. It had taken your ex-boyfriend months to figure out how to get you this worked up. Jungkook either had even more experience than you'd heard from the grapevine, or he was a natural. Or maybe you were just really, ridiculously, primally attracted to him. He went on to curve his finger in you and lick a messy swipe up your folds, sucking hard once he reached your sensitive clit. You cried out at the delicious burst of stimulation and he rose up to catch your lips with his.

"I had to do that, just once," he grinned breathlessly. "But—"

"Let me suck you off," you interjected, unbelievably fucking turned on and dying to please him.

"No," he gasped with far more fervency than you'd think anyone could refuse a blowjob. "Please, I was about to say—" he choked out a high-pitched moan as you ran a single finger up his shaft in anticipation, sinking the nails of your other hand into his thigh. "—I think I'm gonna explode if I don't get inside you right this second."

So he did have a breaking point. "Fuck," you muttered, bringing your legs around his to tuck your heels under his tight ass as he lined up. He eased his tip in, keeping heavy eyes on you the whole time, and you could feel the hot, thick tension in his thighs as he struggled to hold himself back from just thrusting into your heat. Slowly, he drew closer into you until he bottomed out with a low moan. You whined at the perfect slight pain of the stretch, and Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut, gripping you by your waist. Watching the veins in his forearms stand out as he drove almost all the way out and back into you, you rocked your hips carefully against his with each smooth stroke, getting used to his fullness. When his balls met your ass again, he shuddered a bit and opened his eyes into yours.

You answered his question before he could even ask it. "Jungkook—you feel so good. You can go faster, it's okay."

A smile hit his eyes before his mouth, and he kissed you once, pressing his chest to yours and intertwining your tongues eagerly. You bit his bottom lip as he slowly drew away, tugging it between your teeth to pull a sweet little whimper from his throat. Grinning, he leaned back in to touch his forehead to yours and simultaneously slid a subtle hand under your ass to curve your hips up with his. The slight leftover sensitivity of your skin amplified his light touch, and Jungkook seemed to realize this, curling his fingers to tease you with the tips of his nails. Instinctively, you ducked to bite his neck, not even registering your move to pass the pain back to him until he choked out a beautifully half-restrained moan and snapped his hips into yours. Gasping, you encouraged him to lose himself in you, dragging your lips up to latch around his earlobe. He hissed and thrust into you sharply again, meeting the time of your movements as you swirled your tongue between each of his hoop earrings. Soon he was pounding you rhythmically, finally letting you feel the full force of his strength but keeping remarkable control over both his body and yours. Both of you had gone silent except for your heavy breaths, lost in the moment, but the flexed shivers of his thighs and twitches of his fingers in your hair told you all you needed to know. Suddenly yanking your strands to pull you back from the additional bruise you'd sucked beneath his ear, he earned a new set of scratches on his back as your hands dragged down the muscular expanse in reply. Jungkook switched places with you to draw dark clouds from your skin, a storm brewing under your jaw. Your face fell into pure bliss, eyes shut and immersed in the barrage of sensation from his hands, mouth, and big dick filling you. Already feeling the familiar tension that preceded an orgasm building through your whole body, you chased him closer to his climax too, grinding back roughly into every thrust and raking your hands over every part of his firm body you could reach.

You had really been fooling yourself when you thought you could try something casual for once. You wanted more of Jungkook, all of Jungkook, nothing but Jungkook ever again. Knowing he'd never even gone back to the same hookup twice sank slight anxiety into your stomach, a kind of future nostalgia for this moment you already feared losing. You knew you weren't anything special compared to the catalogue of gorgeous girls he'd had his turn with, but a deviant voice whispered from the back of your mind that you could be, because it was clear none had bothered to learn him like this. You'd still try your desperate best not to want too much from him, but you resolved to do whatever you could to make him crave more.

Rolling your hips in a smooth circle against him, you clenched around his dick and your hands tightened their fierce hold on his tiny waist. You felt his abs tense within your grasp as he tried not to stutter into you.

"Fuck. No." His voice cracked, but held an undertone of ferocity. "You come first." Jungkook rushed a hand to your clit, adding pressure in small, deft motions with a fingertip as he kept fucking you deep. You sank your teeth into his shoulder in response, drawing your hands up his back to clutch him closer to you, and Jungkook cried out. You left your mouth on his golden skin to stifle your moans as he sped up his fingers, and he tried to let you stay there but eventually couldn't help pulling you off him to see your face. Eyes narrowed and eyebrows turning up sharp at the ends, he watched you like a hawk to track the exact moment when he pushed you over the edge. Your face crumpled and you felt your whole body burn under his gaze as you came, squeezing around him in waves of pleasure while he fucked you through your high, unrelenting. Drinking up the bliss obvious on your features, Jungkook's eyes never left yours and his expression grew more and more fucked out. You marveled at how even as you lost control and energy to fuck him back, your body freezing in orgasm seemed to turn him on further. One last pulse of the tension leaving your core made his dick throb inside you, and you impulsively broke your eye contact to lean in and bite down slow but hard on his neck again. He gasped.

"You're amazing." Murmuring into his skin, you kissed the bite marks gently. Jungkook whimpered at the sweet contradiction and lurched into your hips even harder. You recovered to move with him, squeezing him deeper into you every time he bottomed out, and as his breathless moans escalated in pitch, his whole body shivered with each stroke. Pressing wet, heavy kisses all over his neck, you felt his jaw flutter while his lips hung open. His considerable strength spent, Jungkook shuddered one last hard thrust into you and finally let go, coating your walls from within. His hips lightly rocked against yours as he stayed deep inside you, still hard and savoring the euphoric release he'd held back for so long. You felt so incredibly warm and comfortable around his sensitive dick, relaxed but still holding him tight, and he couldn't help holding you up for a languid kiss before pulling out of you smoothly.

He briefly looked into your eyes, and you saw stars. The sun had continued to set outside, and it peeked between the blinds of his window to wrap you both in a warm, slivered glow. Staring down at his hands on your body, Jungkook took a deep breath and collapsed to your side, holding you close. You settled into him, cupping a hand over his head on your chest. With your fingers laced through his sweaty hair, you stroked his temple with your thumb, worrying for a second whether the gesture seemed too intimate but forgetting your fear when he snuggled up into your touch. You felt the need to say something, to figure out what the fuck was next after this, but stayed silent, not wanting to disturb the comforting weight of his frame. Heartbeat still racing, Jungkook stretched out to breathe a long sigh. As he sank back into you, you stretched under him too, letting his solid, warm body drape over you like a blanket. This couldn't be farther from what you'd expected with him, but you weren't about to make it stop. Surely, eventually, he would.

A minute passed. And then five. And then, before either of you could talk yourselves out of it, you were asleep, intertwined.

[thetransguard-archive]

couldnt find the promt posts but: joenicky monster/supernatural au? i absolutely adore ur writing btw💕

you cannot hand me the word supernatural and not expect me to think of buzzfeed unsolved RGEHFBRWFHKJL im sorry this turned into a ghost hunter’s au i just don’t know how to write vampires or werewolves or whatever else constitutes supernatural

nicky does not believe in ghosts.

so why is he standing in front of a long-abandoned house, carrying several hundred dollars worth of largely useless equipment, wearing a shirt emblazoned with a big cartoon ghost? he tells himself it’s a favour being returned. his room mate, lykon, is endlessly more enthusiastic then he is, mumbling to himself as he fiddles with the camera that was paid with money that probably should’ve gone to rent.

“don’t look so worried nicky,” lykon says, as they step inside the threshold. his best friend flashes him a wide grin which is immediately contradicted by the alarming creak of the floorboard under his foot. “we’ve got holy water and everything else. we’ll just check to see if there are any ghoulies in here, they can’t hurt us.”

“you know i think this is a load of horseshit. i’m more worried about the house collapsing on our heads.”

“don’t be dramatic, dude. it’s in perfectly good shape.”

as they start setting up lights, laying out their sleeping bags for preparation of sleeping the night in this place, nicky is forced to admit there’s a sort of melancholy beauty to the place. it would have been a very nice house, once, not too ostentatious like the other houses they’ve “investigated”, with high ceilings and large windows, and stunning art covering the walls. landscapes, bowls of fruit, studies of fire and light and the night sky. but not a single person. nicky notices the same sprawling signature on all of the art, and steps closer to see if he can make out a name-

“nicky! let’s start recording.”

lykon begins unrolling the backstory of this house and the ghost allegedly haunting it, and nicky interjects throughout, punctuating the otherwise dead serious narrative with bursts of skepticism and humour, the way they’ve always done. lykon’s little ghost hunting channel is small now but getting bigger every day, and nicky can’t say he doesn’t enjoy it, verbally sparring with his best friend. lykon’s a believer and nicky isn’t, and while they’ll argue fiercely on camera they agree in pretty much every way off screen. apparently this house used to be home to an artist who’d been slowly making his way up in the art world before being murdered mysteriously. with no convictions, the story went that people were compelled to stay away from the house, wouldn’t be able to write without doodling, and smell fresh paint. also the standard doors opening and closing on their own, lights turning on and off, footsteps and the like. nicky was not exactly enthused to spend a night on the dusty floor, but hey. it beat sitting on the couch watching reruns of the same bland reality tv shows.

nicky’s halfway through a longwinded joke when lykon jolts like he’s been zapped, hand gripping nicky’s forearm, eyes darting around in sudden fear.

“what? dude, let go.” he elbows lykon in the ribs gently to get his attention back. “hello? what happened.”

“swear i heard a laugh, from upstairs, maybe,” he replies, face furrowed in concentration. he flashes a smile at the camera. “alright, i think we got all the background done. lets investigate.”

predictably, they find nothing. well, nothing of worth to nicky, but lykon insists that the room that used to be the studio feels colder then the rest of the house, they hear noises from inside the room once they leave it, and the spirit box spits up a few noises that lykon insists are words. a pretty standard investigation, then. they pack up their stuff and tuck in for the night. lykon spends half of it jumping at every little noise, but eventually drifts off as the exhaustion of the drive here finally gets to him. nicky turns over in his sleeping bag, hoping to salvage at least a few hours of rest from the night, but-

is that paint?

nicky breathes in as hard as he can, and it’s unmistakeable, that scent of chemicals that reminds him very vividly of the disaster that was year seven art class. he sits up, rubs his eyes. lykon doesn’t stir and nicky sniffs again. it’s still clear and strong, and now that his ear isnt pressed against the pillow, he can hear faint clattering, like the lid of a paint tin being wedged off. it’s coming from upstairs, where the artist’s studio would be, if he had to guess.

oh, fuck. 

there’s a perfectly rational explanation for this, he reasons to himself, even as he crawls out of the sleeping bag to cram on some shoes and get a torch and a camera. he should probably wake up lykon, but something inside him is telling him, wait, to just see for himself first. maybe we disturbed the paint when we were in there earlier. an old house like this, it’s probably just settling. hell, there’s probably raccoons in the roof, or something. ghosts aren’t real.

the studio is... not how they had left it. it had been such a sad space, everything covered up in white sheets, shelves of paints covered in dust. now, the room is strangely warm, like the summer sun had spent a few hours streaming in through windows that were now uncovered, the night visible through dusty panes of glasses. there is an easel set up, with an empty, clean canvas about the size of a dinner table on it. and on the floor, a thin, fine paintbrush rocks back and forth, like it had just been dropped.

this was entirely too much weirdness for nicky’s brain to handle, but he wasn’t giving up on his hard line stance on ghosts just yet. strangely enough, he doesn’t really feel afraid at all. 

“if this is a prank,” he says, deliberately loud in the empty room, as he bends to pick up the paintbrush. the tip of it is still wet, and the paint looks black on his fingertips. “if this is a joke, lykon, i swear-”

hi, nicky.

the words appear abruptly on the canvas, a rushed hand like whoever’s writing isn’t sure if they can keep it going. nicky almost drops the paintbrush he’s holding, but steps closer. the paint is still wet on the canvas, and it’s the same dark shade as the stuff on the brush. he shines his torch at it. it’s a very dark blue, not a black like he’d first assumed, the colour of a twilight sea.

“what the fuck,” he mumbles to himself, touching the canvas. it’s just fabric on wood. what the fuck.

did i scare you? i didn’t want to do that. 

"i’m not scared,” he says, feeling oddly giddy. “this is a very strange dream.”

i promise it’s not a dream. tah-dah! ghosts are real. i am one of them.

as whoever it is writes, they doodle around their letters with incredible skill, little birds and flowers and suns circling their words. it’s strangely endearing. the paint smell gets stronger and nicky finds that he does not mind.

“what’s your name?” he asks, remembering that he is technically a ghost investigator and he should probably be doing some investigation. his phone is left forgotten in his pocket, though. he doesn’t know if he should be recording this or not.

joe, joseph, but it’s yusuf, really. the art world of my time was not quite ready for a name like mine, but i suppose it doesn’t matter anymore.

“you’re the artist, then.”

who else would i be? as far as i can tell i am the first, last and only death of this house.

“you were murdered.”

yes, but can we not talk about that? it wasn’t a pleasant experience.

the last full stop of yusuf’s sentence is darker then normal, like he’s pressed harder. nicky touches a finger to the canvas.

“i’m sorry. i won’t bring it up again.”

thank you.

nicky takes a step back, the room is lightening around him. he hadn’t realised it earlier, but the windows of this room all face east, which is why he supposes yusuf chose it to be his studio. on some level, a part of him is wondering why he isn’t screaming and running to get lykon right now. he really isn’t afraid, though. yusuf hasn’t meant him any harm.

“why did you choose to talk to me? we were up here earlier.”

it’s harder when more alive people are in my room. you take up so much energy. the handwriting pauses, like yusuf is considering. and most people are so afraid. i’ve tried talking to others before, but they get so scared. you didn’t seem frightened at all.

“that’s because i didn’t believe in any of this stuff.” nicky presses a finger to yusuf’s words, just to check. his finger comes away dark blue. “part of me still think i’m dreaming, though.”

well, you can’t see reflections in dreams, i’ve heard. there’s a mirror behind you.

nicky turns to see a sheet drop off a large standing mirror in an ornate frame, and sure enough, he can see his face, a pale shape in the darkness of the room. he steps closer, and skids a finger over the glass, leaving a smear of paint behind. not a dream, then.

he feels a gust of air, warm, behind him and he turns. nothing but the canvas. when he turns back, that’s when he sees him.

he’s about the same height and build of nicky, standing just behind him and to the side. handsome, a full beard and a rueful smile and curls, and eyes that are the kindest nicky has ever seen. and the most startling thing- he is opaque. his head and shoulders are more or less solid, but his torso peters out into nothing at all.

“ghosts are real,” he says, to the spectre in the mirror, dumbfounded, and yusuf’s half-smile widens to a proper grin. he does a little wave in the mirror and something in nicky’s chest swells. he smiles back.

“your friend downstairs is waking up.” a breath, barely a whisper in his ear. and sure enough, noises from below. he can almost hear the sound of his name.

“i won’t tell him about you, if you don’t want me to,” he says, and yusuf shrugs, flickering.

“i don’t mind, but i'd rather you not. the more people come in here, the harder it is to... exist.” 

nicky can hear footsteps on the stairs now, and he blurts out, quickly, before this bizarre moment is over, before he is thrust back into the mundane of his normal life. “we’re leaving now. can i come back, sometime?” and the thing is, he really wants to, wants to know this strange, sad ghost with messy handwriting and beautiful art, and kind, kind eyes. he has so many questions. what’s it like, being a ghost? are you lonely in this house? and, why do you not have any paintings of people? yusuf meets his eyes in the mirror and smiles again.

“i’d like that.”

“nicky!” the door opens and nicky blinks, his hands dropping to his sides. lykon sweeps his gaze around the room looks at him with a raised eyebrow. the canvas, nicky is stunned to realise, is now as clean and blank as when he’d walked in.

“c’mon man, you know we’re not allowed to mess with this stuff.” lykon steps forwards and plucks the paintbrush out of his hand, the tip still wet with paint, and sets it on the easel. “you said it yourself, nothing in here now. we’ve gotta get going.”

“sì, of course. i was just... looking around. it’s a beautiful room.”

his room mate just gives him a look. “uh okay. whatever, man. let’s go.”

before nicky leaves, he picks the paintbrush back up again, tucks it into his pocket. says to the empty room, slowly filling with light and colour from the rising sun, “i’ll be back, yusuf, i promise.”

the faint ghost of laughter as he walks out feels, somehow, right.

[babbushka]

Centerfold

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

4k; N S F W (oral sex, come marking, come eating, thigh riding, photography during sex, porny pervy photos, whipped cream) 

Also available on AO3!

[part of the Flip Zimmerman NSFW Alphabet Prompt series, letters C&D]

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

It’s late, real late when he comes home. So late that it’s a little too dark to read the clock face in the hall, but that’s alright. You knew it would be, when you spoke to him on the phone during his lunch break. Flip had been up to his eyes trying to connect dots and draw strings for the case, so you planned accordingly. You timed dinner perfectly; the oven dinged right as you heard the lock on the front door click open, as the familiar smell of your man’s cigarette smoke wafted into the kitchen before he did.

You can’t help a little grin spread across your face, can’t help your heart from fluttering just the smallest bit at the sound of his heavy boots. You had some candles lit around the living room, more for ambiance than light. No, the large fireplace was steadily crackling and filling the room with a warm glow, one that you hoped would put Flip in the mood.

Dinner needed some time to rest, to cool a little bit so it wouldn’t burn your tongues. You bit your lip, smiled around the thought of just where and how you wanted Flip’s tongue in the meantime.

“Welcome home honey!” You call out to him, taking off your apron and shaking your hair out as you leave the kitchen and greet him in the foyer. He’s hanging up his coat in the little closet by the door, and you don’t hesitate before wrapping your arms around his big middle, smiling up at him. “It was a little chilly out today, why don’t you come sit with me next to the fire?”

“What’s all this, ketsl?” Flip smiles down at you, just a little quirk of his lips around his cigarette. His eyes are so warm, so brown. He nods in the direction of the living room, gesturing to all the candles and the record player that’s softly playing.

“I thought tonight we could have some fun.” You smooth your hands up his chest, feeling how firm and strong his muscles are. He hums out happily as you loop your arms around his neck, kiss him slow slow slow while you whisper, “Unwind a bit, put on some music, have a little sex. You know.”

He exhales then, thick clouds of grey-blue smoke that wind around your bodies. He can tell you’re not wearing anything underneath that robe of yours with the way that the fabric slips away from your breasts a little too revealingly, and his jaw clenches for it.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re trouble?” He says low, dangerous, hungry.

Good, you think, you love when your man comes home with an appetite.

“Me? What’d I ever do?” You tease, taking him by the hand and leading him away from the foyer and into the living room.

He goes easily, happily. He looks tired, but that’s alright, you’ll let him sleep after you have your fun. You can already see the line of his dick pressing into his jeans, and that alone has your thighs rubbing together, has you wanting to get fucked.

He follows you, katchkaleh hot on your heels, and he stands behind you in the living room, your toes cushioned on the plush shag carpet.

“Mmm you’re just,” He pulls some of your hair away from your neck and face, tipping your head to the side so he can press hot open mouthed kisses to the skin there, can taste the beat of your pulse. “So so beautiful. I thought of you at work today, all day.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me what you thought about.” You encourage, taking the cigarette away from him and holding it between your fingers so that he can get both his hands on you.

They massage your breasts for a minute before sliding down down down your body, parting the fabric of your robe. You’re not wearing panties and he groans, lets his huge hand wedge between your inner thighs, feeling the heat of you, the wetness of you, the want of you.

“Your sweet pussy mostly.” He replies, voice deep and heady, “Was hopin’ to come home to see you naked, had to go jerk off in the back about it.”

Your body tingles all over at the thought, at his admission. He continues to kiss and suck on your neck, places bruises there over old bruises he left you that morning. The sting of pain makes your stomach clench in the best way, and your eyes slip closed as you feel him grind his cock against your ass.

“Did you take one of the pictures back with you? Did you jerk off and come all over the polaroids?” You asked, and he sucked in a deep breath.

That was one of his biggest dirty secrets, those pictures. Polaroids and 35mm stills he takes of you, asks you to pose for, jerks off over whenever he can’t jerk off over you. 

Late nights on a stakeout all alone, later nights sitting in the empty station had him browsing his collection of homemade pornography, amateur photos of you that have him spilling all over his fist in ten minutes flat.

“Yeah, fuck baby I did. But…” He groans just thinking about how often he sneaks looks at them, how they’re hidden in a false drawer in his desk, in a little tin container in the glovebox.

“But what?” You prompt, putting your hands over his and guiding one back up to your tits so he can pinch and squeeze at your nipples.

“The pictures are gorgeous, your body is just fuckin’ rocking, but I think it might be time to take some new ones.” You can feel it when he licks his lips, tongue brushing your cheek as he kisses you, “My cock’s so hard for you baby.”

You chuckle a little then, turn in his embrace so you can face him, so you can see how dark his eyes have gotten for you, how big those pupils have blown with lust.

“How do you want me?” You ask, letting the robe slip away from your body and pool around your ankles.

He’s entranced with you, with the way the fireplace crackles softly, the way the glow from the soft flames lick up your body.

He wants to lick up your body.

“However you want, just…” He doesn’t know where to look, so he looks everywhere. Doesn’t know where to touch, so he touches everywhere too. “Just let me come all over you when we’re done?”

“Oh, it’s going to be like that is it?” You grin, sinking down to your knees, unbuttoning his flannel on your way, “Want to see me covered in it?”

“Yeah.” He breathes, takes the cigarette back from you, sucks down the nicotine to give him some edge, some bit of control. Tonight is going to be long, going to be slow. He wants to take his time with you, has plans for you.

Plans that short circuit in his brain when you sit back on your heels and pull his cock out of his jeans, giving it a good steady stroke.

“Want to see me lick it up?” You bring your lips to his shaft and kiss it, little kisses on the vein which throbs up to the head. You tongue the slit and he pushes his hips in your face, smokes and smokes and smokes some more.

“Fuck – ” He fists your hair and yanks your head back just the littlest bit, just so that the fat head of his cock rests heavy on your tongue, drool already wanting to slide down your chin. He pulls you off of him ever so gently, and bends down until he’s on his knees too, until he’s caging your body underneath his with a breathy, “Please.”

You grin and lay back on the carpeting near the fireplace, already settling, already getting ready for a good fucking. Your knees part and he moans in the back of his throat for the way he rubs his dick through your folds, not quite pushing in, not just yet.

“You’re big.” You hum, tapping out a little rhythm onto his shoulders, your body moving to the beat of the sexy record you had softly playing in the background. “I like when you cover me.”

“Makes kissing you a bitch though.” He grumbles as he has to hunch himself down to meet your lips.

“Kiss me a little before fucking me then, get your fix.” You push his shoulders down so your faces are level with one another, eyes closing again to simply surrender yourself to the incredible feeling of your husband around you. “Let me get my fix of you.”

He hums into your mouth, kisses you slowly. One of his hands cups your neck, caresses your head. His hands are so fucking big, the way they span nearly the whole half of your face, the way they’re so warm. Your noses bump together as you breathe in time, as you suck the breath straight from his lungs, bitter and so so good.

Your bodies move together, sweat together ever so slightly. Being by the fire has you warmed up, being near Flip has you burning up. His jeans chafe your calves a little but you only moan for it, moan for him. He sucks on your tongue and you bite at his lips, your hands squeezing him, holding him close.

“You taste good.” Flip kisses you, licks across your teeth, “Like strawberries.”

“I made shortcake for dessert, thought I might spray whipped cream all over, have you lick me up.” You explain, and he drops his head into the crook of your shoulder and groans loudly.

“Oh fuck – fuck that’s – yes we should do that.” He says immediately, stumbles over your words as his dick rubs against your legs, makes him whine.

“Okay, okay but fuck me first, I’m gonna lose it if I don’t get your cock in me.” You laugh at how eager he is, joy bubbling up in your chest. You’re love-drunk for him, for Flip, and it makes your pussy wet that he’s the same.

You shove your hands under the waistband of his jeans then, and he gets the hint. Standing up for just as long as it takes to shuck off his jeans and socks, he lays on top of you nice and naked, as nude as you. He kisses you as he lines himself up, your legs parting for him, giving him room to shove himself into your space, into you.

“Ohh fuck ketsl.” He breathes out, face buried into your cheek.

That first hard thrust has you melting underneath him, has you wanting to do nothing but starfish out and be the pillow-princess you were. But he starts slow, a rolling buildup of pleasure that soon has you craving more.

You can tell he’s holding back, but you don’t want him to. You don’t, you want to hear the slap of his balls against your ass, want to hiccup out moans and sobs for his cock.

“Honey you can go faster.” You encourage, and he groans in appreciation, bites and suckles at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder, sinks his teeth right into you.

“God I’m gonna come so hard, and then I’m gonna eat some of this delicious fuckin’ dinner you cooked up and I’m gonna fuck you again and come in you again.” The faster his hips go, the more inclined he is to talk, and soon he’s rocking into you hard and rough, he’s scrambling to get your legs every which way.

“My pussy’s been so empty all day, fill me up!” You toss your head back and accept the pounding for everything it was, let yourself go boneless, relaxing for him so he can thrust in deeper, his cock feeling like it’s a mile long inside your body.

“Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” Flip asks around gulps of air as he brings your ankle over his shoulder.

“No I – oh fuck! – I waited, wanted to wait for you.” You answer honestly, smiling around a gasp for how he looks so fucking horny about that.

“You’re good to me, such a good girl – my good fucking girl fuck your cunt’s tight.” He grits, and you laugh, laugh before you’re moaning too loud to do anything other than hold on.

“I – I – oh yeah, yeah honey.” You drip praise from your tongue the way sweat from the ends of his feathered hair drips onto your tits.

He fucks you there by the fireplace for a while, every so often rearranging your legs, your bodies, your guts, so that he can get in deeper. He feels incredible, his big dick splitting you in half, the friction blazing the walls of your pussy, throbbing inside you.

He alternates between fucking you on your back, and rolling you onto your hands and knees, onto your side, pulling you onto his lap. He wants you every which way, wants you deep deep deep. You wind up back on your back, because he hates not looking at you, hates not seeing your face.

He’s working hard to fuck you right, and you yelp out in pleasure when he pinches your clit, nibbling on your ear as your body trembles underneath him.

“Flip! Flip I’m – harder please, fuck me harder!” You beg, a hand so tight in his hair, the other smacking his chest.

“I can feel it oh fuck I can feel how close you are,” He bites hard against your jaw, sloppy, so wet, tongue and lips swollen as your chest heaves. “Squeezing me so tight, don’t worry ketsl I’m not letting you go.”

“Oh I missed you yesyesyes -- !” Your back arches up as he spits into his hand and spreads his fingers through your folds, presses down on where his cock pistons fast into your pussy.

“Should’ve come to the – Christ – station, I would’ve fucked you hard, fucked you right in front of everyone, make them watch you come on my cock.” He’s babbling, not really meaning the shit he’s saying – but it’s sexy to think about it, to think about everyone looking at you on display, listening to the sounds you’re making right now.

“Phil!” You shout out his name, and he doesn’t pull his hand away, doesn’t stop fucking you. “Phil I’m – !”

You shout out a strangled cry then, because fuck oh how your orgasm crashes through you, how your body shudders and jolts under him, how your brain goes hazy and foggy with pleasure. Stars and spots dance across your vision as the world moves in slow motion, shocks rippling down your spine, curling your toes.

“I’m right here.” He pants, fucking you through it, cock dragging through your gushing cunt as he tries to get you to scream, “Come on honey I’m right here.”

He spits into your mouth hard, and you swallow it, swallow it like your cunt swallows his cock, even as it throbs and pulses around him, coating his dick is so much come, the wet slide loud in the quiet of the living room.

“I’m gonna come.” Flip groans then suddenly, the feeling too much, tipping him over.

“In me or on me?” You ask all dreamy-like, slowly slowly coming back to reality.

“Yes.” He grunts.

“No!” You laugh and playfully swat at his side as his hips take advantage of you going rag-doll limp under him, aftershocks still shivering through your thighs. “No you have to pick, the pictures, remember?”

“Ugh fuck, ketsl -- can’t – I can’t – ” He’s too wound up, so close, his stomach tensing, balls tight, panting in your ear and trying to kiss your cheek, your neck, but only getting as far as moaning against your throat.

“Come in me a little and then pull out?” You suggest, and he seems to like that idea because soon he’s cursing loud in your ear, punching his fist against the shag from the feeling as his hips push you so hard that your body chafes against the carpeting.

He never comes as loudly as you do, but he does cry out your name as he rolls his hips against yours for a minute. He could stay in there forever, inside your pussy. He knows it, you know it, and on any other evening you’d be content to let him fill you to the brim with it, but this was a special night.

“Close your eyes, be careful.” Flip mumbles as he winces, pulling his cock out of you and moving as quickly as his jelly body can handle to let hot ropes of come splatter all over your face.

He loves to come on your tits, and some accidentally gets on there anyway, but there’s something extra dirty about the way it clings to your nose, your mouth, your cheek. It’s so hot and you resist the urge to lick your lips, not until he says, not until he’s got the camera.

He kneels over your chest and tugs at his cock, milks himself for any last droplet of come that he can, before sighing, exhausted. He still hadn’t eaten, and you almost want to bring this up to him, but he’s looking at you still with such a deep dark desire, that you don’t want to interrupt him.

“Stay like that, right like that.” He says eventually, the two of you giggling in the post-orgasm bliss, as he tries to stand up on wobbly knees.

“Mmm’kay.” You hum, let your fingers swirl around the come that slid down your chin and dripped into the pit of your throat.

Your eyes are closed, but you can hear Flip come back with a camera, can hear him checking the shutter, checking to see it’s loaded up with film. When he comes back, he’s laying down between your legs again, kissing your calves.

“Spread your legs,” He swallows hard as he raises the camera up to his eye, his big hands holding it steady, “Push my come back in your pussy, let me see it drink it up.”

You grin, bite the inside of your cheek as you lift a pleasure-weak hand to down between your legs, feel for the thick come that’s started to ooze out of you. You’re impressed with how much he came in you before pulling out – but then again you’re not surprised. Flip always had a big load.

“Like that?” You ask breathlessly as you can hear him taking photo after photo.

“Just like that honey-bunny, finger yourself with it.” His baritone ghosts your pussy and it clenches from the warmth of his breath, clenches around your fingers. “You’re so fuckin’ good at this ketsl, you got somethin’ you want to tell me? You one of them playboy bunnies while I’m at work?”

“Yeah, I’ve got Hef’s number right up here.” You moan as your fingers slide through your folds, sopping wet from your own come. He snaps another photo of it mixing, mingling there inside of you.

“I oughta kick his ass, seeing you like this. No one gets to see you like this but me.” Flip puts the camera down for a second to kiss the inside of your knee.

He smacks a kiss to the other one, before crawling up your body, taking photos along the way.

“And the poor guy over at the fotomart.” Your arms stretch over your head, pushing your tits out for him and his camera.

“He’s seen worse,” Flip leans down to suck your nipples into his mouth one at a time, getting them stiff in the firelight, smacking them to get them flushed before he takes his photos, “And I promise he ain’t poor for it.”

“Oh here – get this one.” You say as you pinch your nipples for him, hold them and tug on them while his mouth waters through the lens. His stomach growls then, and you both have a little laugh about it when you suddenly remember, “Go get the whipped cream?”

“Yeah, just – some lick up my come some more first.” He pinches your nose and gives your face an affectionate shake.

“Okay, do you – Phil!” You grin against his lips as he tackles you then, camera put down carefully as he rolls you on top of him, kisses you all over.

“Sorry, you’re just so pretty.” He says as an explanation, and you roll your eyes at how much you adore him and his sex-blotchy, reddened face.

“You go get the fuckin’ whipped cream, it’s in the door.” You push yourself off of him, settling onto your stomach.

He grumbles and groans loudly, dramatically, before getting up and leaving the living room with a smile.

“Nice ass!” You shout after him, and you can hear the deep rumble of his chuckle from all the way there.

 When he comes back a minute or two later with the redid-whip icey cold from the fridge, he’s already aching for you all over again.

“Come take a seat on my thigh, let me get close to you ketsl.” Flip sits cross-legged on the carpet. You notice he’s grabbed a fresh pair of underwear from the laundry basket and you shake your head. He always did complain that the carpet itched.

He hands you the cannister, pops the top off and you immediately get to work while he fumbles with his camera. You can’t help yourself, you slowly grind your hips against his thigh, slowly working yourself up. His muscles shine with your slick but he’s not looking, he doesn’t look anywhere other than you.

“Oh Flip,” You sigh as you take a hold of it properly, rubbing your cheek all over it, “It’s so big, just like your cock.”

“What’s bigger?” He chews on his cheek, snaps some photos.

“Your cock is -- your cock is way bigger, I can barely fit my hands around it.” You say, shaking the whipped cream, getting it really aerated in the cannister, getting it all mixed up just the way the man on the commercial told you. You wondered if he knew how many people used those directions for their own pleasure?

“Shake it up faster baby, let me see you sweat.” He says evenly, and you can feel his cock hardening through his underwear for you again.

“Oh,” You moan as you ride his thigh, as you let your tits bounce from the speed which you shake up the can, “Oh Flip, I – I think it’s gonna blow.”

He nods, and you tilt the nozzle to let ribbons of the sweet cream coat your chest and face, a cartoonish comeshot captured on film. You spray the cream and ride his thigh, and he shoves a hand into your pussy to get you off again, making you fall forward a little just from the sensitivity of it all.

You come around a mouthful of whipped cream, and Flip puts the camera down so he can get both his hands on you properly, holds you close. He gets sticky with the whipped cream too, but he doesn’t give a shit.

“You’re too good to me.” He whispers against your cleavage where he’s licking up the whipped cream, not wanting any of it to go to waste.

“I like that you like looking at me.” You hum, carding a hand through his hair while he breathes you in, cleans you up. “I like that you don’t use those magazines.”

You had nothing against the magazines, but there was definitely something special about being the only one he wanted, about being the only woman who got him off.

“Why should I, when I’ve got my very own centerfold right here?” He looks up at you from between your tits, whipped cream all in his goatee.

You sweetly tug on his ear, before asking for a shower. He goes happily, so handsome under the warm spray.

And then like as if it were every other night, you find yourselves smiling at one another behind glasses of water and Coors, sitting in your pajamas at the table with a perfectly heated dinner. You didn’t care that it was late, not really.

Not when you and your man were so good about building up an appetite.

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

Tagging some pals :)  @kyloxfem @heldcaptivebychaos  @solotriplets @formerly-anonhamster @lookinsidemyhead @candycanes19 @adamsnacc-kler  @whiskey-bumblebee @magikevalynn @tinyplanet-explorers @chelsjnov @romancedeldiablo @helloimindelaware @elfieboxcat @laurenshit @autumnlovesadam @peterisparker  @goodboybensolo  @the-marvelatic @miasera @emily-strange @proxyfoxy @disaster-rose @hazydespair @yosoymuyloca @1-800-choke-that-snoke @ktellmeastory @anongirl007 @zimmerxman @okk--maaan @flapjacques @aweirdlookingtree @callmemania-pls @theold-ultraviolence @og-selene @pinkmoontribe-blog

[i-am-not-a-who-i-am-a-what]

there was a moment from yesterday’s episode that set off so many alarm bells in my head and i haven’t seen anyone talking about it yet so i’m going to get my thoughts out there. i’m putting the majority of this post under a readmore bc it got very long thanks to all the transcript quotes i pulled but i really want to know what everyone else thinks about the Implications™

BASIRA

Okay. So… what do we know about Hill Top Road?

ARCHIVIST

Not much.

BASIRA

Another blind spot?

ARCHIVIST

No, it’s – I could look at it, but it… it was… it was like a… a hole. You know that feeling you get when you look down from a, a great height, like you’re being pulled into the abyss?

BASIRA

Kind of?

ARCHIVIST

[Getting lost in thought] Well it was… was like that. Normally I can see it, see the… webs, and feel the power of The Spider emanating from it, but… as I would look… it’s like my mind…. follows the paths of The Web,

[STATIC RISES]

the strands going down and… out… [Catching self] It’s quite disorientating.

[STATIC FADES]

my first thought after hearing this exchange was “huh, that sounds eerily similar to the description of the table the not-them was trapped in.” here it is from mag 3 - across the street:

I’d become enraptured by the table on which he’d placed my tea. It was an ornate wooden thing, with a snaking pattern of lines weaving their way around towards the centre. The pattern was hypnotic and shifted as I watched it, like an optical illusion. I found my eyes following the lines towards the middle of the table, where there was nothing but a small square hole.

my first instinct was that this was some foreshadowing for jon meeting some kind of horrible fate, because well... remember what happened the last time someone got mesmerized by the table?

SASHA

Oh, hey. I’ve found… I’ve found that table you were talking about. Don’t really see what all the fuss is about. Just a… basic… optical illusion. Nothing special… just… just a… wait…

[Hushed and panicked] Jon! Jon, I think there’s someone here. Hello? I see you. Show yourself!

but then i started thinking more about why the table specifically would be referenced, and i remembered the earliest we see it used as artifact of the web, and where: with raymond fielding in hill top road in mag 59 - recluse:

On Sunday evenings, however, we’d all gather for the evening meal, and before we sat down to eat, he would remove the bright white tablecloth that covered it, and we’d gather around the dark wood. I remember it was carved in all sorts of strange swirling designs and patterns. It felt like if you picked a line, any line, you could follow it through to the center, to some deep truth, if only your eye could keep track of the strands that had caught it.

it was while i was checking the transcripts to find the above quote that i also remembered the hole in center of the table that the web pattern leads towards wasn’t always empty - it used to contain a box, and that box contained an apple.

again from again from mag 59:

The center of the table looked, at first, like it was simply part of the wooden top, but if you looked closely, as I did so often, you could see an outline marking the very middle as a small, square box, carved with patterns just like the ones that laced their way over the rest of the table. I don’t remember how long we sat around the table those evenings, nor do I have any memory of what we might have eaten.

...

I reached over and pulled the wooden square from the center of the table. On its own, it appeared to be a small wooden box, and the lid opened smoothly, as my hands moved in a practiced motion. Inside was an apple, green and fresh and still wet with morning dew.

I knew I was going to eat it. I could feel tears desperately trying to push themselves out of my eyes, but I instead decided not to cry. I placed the box down on the table, reached over, and picked up the apple.

the box from the center of the table makes its first appearance in the very first hill top road statement, mag 8 - burned out, where we learn that apparently the apple was full of spiders. 

considering the web’s predilection for filling it’s victim’s bodies with spiders (carlos vittery, annabell cane, the spider husks trevor encountered, the victim of the chelicerae website, the old woman in annabell’s statement, francis, etc.) i think this goes a ways to explain what happened to raymond’s other victims, and what would have happened to mag 59′s statement giver if he’d bitten into the apple:

They lay still now, wrapped in their sticky cocoons. Their bodies seemed warped and bloated in a way I didn’t recognize. But that’s only because at that point in my life, I had never before seen a spider egg sac.

more importantly though, we also learn that the box was buried under the burnt up tree in hill top road’s garden, the one whose uprooting was implied to be linked to agnes’s death: 

STATEMENT

At that moment I made my decision. It was easy, like destroying this tree was the only thing to do, the only path to follow ... When the tree lay on its side, uprooted and powerless, I gazed into the hole where it had sat and noticed something lying there in the dirt.

Climbing down, I retrieved what turned out to be a small wooden box, about six inches square, with an intricate pattern carved along the outside. Engraved lines covered it, warping and weaving together, making it hard to look away.

...

ARCHIVIST

Except… We cannot prove any connection, but Martin unearthed a report on an Agnes Montague, who was found dead in her Sheffield flat on the evening of November 23rd 2006, the same day Mr. Lensik claims to have uprooted the tree.

and keep in mind that the only reason the statement giver in mag 59 didn’t eat the apple, didn’t succumb to the web... was agnes’s kiss:

As the man in the suit told me to follow him in a clipped BBC accent, Agnes walked over, and gestured for me to lean down and listen to her. I did so, but instead of a conspiratorial whisper, she just gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, then ran off down the hall.

...

All at once, my cheek erupted in pain. It was like someone had pressed a hot branding iron into my face, and I could swear that I heard the flesh sizzle as I let out a scream and fell to my knees. I raised my hands to my face and realized in that moment two very important things. The first is that my face seemed to be untouched; I could feel no injury or burn. The second was that raising my hand had been a truly voluntary act. I had willed it myself, and whatever power had been gripping me, tugging me into its web, I was free of it.

at this point you’re probably wondering why i think all this is relevant in terms of what might happen with hill top road, and i have two potential ideas: 

my first idea has to do with the theory that agnes is lingering on as a ghost. this theory isn’t mine, i first encountered it shortly after mag 167 - curiosity aired through this post’s attempt to fix what bits of the timeline were thrown out of wack by the new info. if anyone has any other posts or general thoughts about this theory feel free to share them, i’d love to read them!

this theory is relevant to my speculation that agnes might finally make an appearance because she might have been the ghost seen by one of the statement givers in mag 100 - i guess you had to be there:

MARTIN

Right. Right.

[THROAT CLEARING]

Statement of Lynne Hammond, er, recorded 2nd of May 2017, regarding…

Uh, what, what’s this one about?

LYNNE

I saw a ghost.

MARTIN

O-kay.. Regarding a… a ghost. Statement begins.

who appeared as one of the cultists in mag 190 - scavengers: 

MARTIN

[Puzzled] Celia?

CELIA

Probably. The, um… place I was trapped in, they took my name. I never got it back. But I like Celia, so… yeah! Celia it is.

MARTIN

Uh… H-Hello… Celia.

and was recognized and directly confirmed to be the same person by martin in mag 191 - what we lose:

MARTIN

…

Hey, I meant to ask. Do you recognise that woman, Celia?

ARCHIVIST

Um… no, I, I don’t think so. Why?

MARTIN

I’d swear she gave a statement once.

having her only pop up in mag 190 would have just been a fun easter egg, but having martin directly call out her presence the next episode sounds to me like jonny telling the audience to pay attention, to remember that her statement had to do with the ghost of a young woman on fire who might have been agnes. 

my second idea involves web lighter.

over various statements throughout the previous four seasons we’ve been shown that the web and the desolation have been at war, and hill top road has been their battlefield. the best examples of this come from mag 139 - chosen and mag 149 - infectious doubts respectively. 

on the one hand we have agnes being planted in hill top road by the cult of the lightless flame in an effort to both control her powers and derail the web’s plans, which seems to begin the conflict:

The compromise we came to was Hill Top Road. We knew it was a stronghold of the Web, full of other children Agnes’ age. We would supervise from a distance, but were confident she would be in no danger. The Mother of Puppets has always suffered at our hand; all the manipulation and subtle venom in the world means nothing against a pure and unrestrained force of destruction and ruin.

and on the other we have the web binding gertrude to agnes, thus thwarting the desolation’s ritual, which also involved hill top road:

ARTHUR

Alright. Agnes. How’d you do it? Never did understand it, not really.

GERTRUDE

Ah. That’s a fair enough question. It was the Web. I didn’t know it at the time, of course, and I would call it an accident, but it never is, with them. It’s only after the fact that you can see all the subtle manipulations

... 

So, I began researching what I thought was a counter-ritual of sorts. Like I said, I was young, naive. I somehow found just the right books, made just the right connections, and even got what I thought was a piece of blind good luck when I found a tin box in the ashes of Hill Top Road, containing some perfectly preserved cuttings of her hair.

wouldn’t it seem symbolic, fitting with the dream logic we’ve been working with all season (and that the fears have always tended to work with), if what ended the metaphysical war was an artifact touched by both the web and the desolation? 

say perhaps... a device that creates fire while being marked by a symbol of the spider? one that just so happened to be delivered to the institute at the same time as a certain table?

TIM

Er, what is it?

ARCHIVIST

A lighter. An old Zippo.

TIM

You smoke?

ARCHIVIST

No. And I don’t allow ignition sources in my archive!

TIM

Okay. Is there anything unusual about it?

ARCHIVIST

Not really. Just a sort of spider web design on the front. Doesn’t mean anything to me. You?

TIM

Ah no. No.

ARCHIVIST

Well… show it to the others, see what they think. You said there was something else as well?

TIM

Oh, ah yes, yeah, it was sent straight to the Artefact Storage, a table of some sort. Ah, looks old. Quite pretty, though. Fascinating design on it.

all signs point to the best hope of escaping whatever plans the web has for jon lying with the desolation, or at least with fire, and who should be waiting in hill top road than someone who’s been known to burn statements in the past... and someone who, as of mag 162 - a cozy cabin, was the last person to mention the lighter: 

MARTIN

So, should we destroy it? Before we go?

[THE CABIN CREAKS VERY LOUDLY.]

ARCHIVIST

I honestly don’t know if we can.

[HE SIGHS.]

MARTIN

Mm.

ARCHIVIST

Besides, there’s – far worse out there. Better to try and avoid it, I think.

MARTIN

We’re not even gonna try? Look, we’ve got your lighter; maybe if we just –

i haven’t even begun to touch on the multiple instances of spiral marked individuals interacting with hill top road, or the potential role of the rift leading from the world without the institute to the reality with the institute from mag 114 - cracked foundations, or the foreshadowing we’ve gotten throughout this season that the archive might be destroyed by fire and how it’s looking more and more like that means jon might die, or the significance of the tapes and what power might be behind them...

but it’s nearing five in the morning where i am and i’ve been working on this frankly gargantuan post since about midnight, so i’m going to let more meta-inclined minds take it from here. tell me what you think! where do you agree with me, where do you think i’ve gone astray? hell, tell me if you think i’m just spinning my wheels, this is the first real theory post i’ve ever made so i might be completely off base, at least i tried lol.

tl;dr: 

the call back to the imagery surrounding the web table and its long history with hill top road and the desolation is leading me to believe that whatever plans the web has in hill top road for jon, fire is going to have a significant role in whether or not the web gets what it wants; either agnes herself might finally make an appearance or the web lighter might finally come into play.