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jcmarchi · 6 months

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Silent Hill: Ascension Preview - Ascension Takes Place Before The Originals But Isn’t Quite A Prequel - Game Informer

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Silent Hill: Ascension Preview - Ascension Takes Place Before The Originals But Isn’t Quite A Prequel - Game Informer

Ahead of the premiere (release? Launch?) of the experimental Silent Hill Ascension tonight, we had a chance to speak with the developer Genvid about the game (TV show? Crowd-directed narrative?) is, what it will mean to the Silent Hill universe, and how much work is going into animating the versions of the narrative that may never be seen.

Calling Ascension a video game is almost a misnomer. There is an interactive element, but you won’t be holding a controller in your hand pushing characters to make decisions in the traditional sense. Instead, viewers will download the Silent Hill Ascension app on mobile devices or PC (there is a PlayStation option, but only for viewing episodes, not participating) and watch a shorter sequence that will contain choices. Participants will then vote on outcomes, and those decisions will dictate what happens in the full, approximately 45-minute episode that will premier later. We got to see the shorter introductory sequence that showed two women trying to perform an oath ceremony that awakens a monster. Characters can die and potentially be replaced, or even have something happen like losing a limb that will affect them for the rest of the show all based on viewer interaction.

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Within the app, players will also be able to solve Silent Hill-inspired puzzles to earn influence points (IP) that they will apply to the decisions they are most interested in pursuing. You can’t buy IP. Instead, the game will be monetized with chat options that can be used during live-streamed episodes, as well as avatar customization options, and then your avatar has the opportunity to appear in the show as a side character. It looks almost like a more public Telltale approach to story-driven games, which makes sense because a large majority of the development team is former Telltale.

I think for Silent Hill fans, however, the big question is where the Ascension sits in the larger lore. “We are before a lot of the events that happen on purpose,” Ganvid CEO Jacob Navok tells me. “At the start of Ascension, the Foundation cult here in Pennsylvania is very active. Typically, in a Silent Hill game, you’re there after the cult has already gone to s***. You go into those rooms and there’s blood on the walls and notes there and you’re deducing what happens. But you saw that the cult is very active, that room is clean… right up until the monster comes.”

The real-world timeline of the Silent Hill games has always been vague with suspicions that the first two games take place in the 70s and 80s and Navok is similarly vague about Ascension saying, “We’re not specifying. We’re keeping that mysterious.” But he did confirm that Ascension’s story takes place over many months and that it isn’t false to call it a subtle prequel. It’s an original story in the Silent Hill universe that won’t necessarily tie into what comes next, especially since viewers will be deciding the forward progress of the narrative.

There are thousands of potential endings for the game, and much of its introductory story moments have already been pre-produced, the team is not creating every possible scenario. “We’re running about four weeks ahead, which means like we’ve got through week four right now,” Navok says. “And then, as we don’t have to animate certain things, we will just not do them. So, it is being built as the series is taking place to reduce some of that burden on purpose.”

I am impressed by the unique presentation of Silent Hill Ascension, but I do admit worry about the subject matter. Silent Hill, when it works and is engaging, is extremely personal stories about characters existing within a hell of their own design. The series has always been about people grappling with their inner demons that happen to take physical form and the difficulty of recognizing them. They’re surprisingly quiet games, and I don’t know that watching characters as a chat scrolls by with emojis bought by excited viewers rooting for their favorite characters to live or die lines up with Silent Hill’s idealogy. Silent Hill is not a slasher flick at a midnight showing. It’s about watching James Sunderland as he contemplates stepping into a grave with his name on it in order to continue following breadcrumbs left by his dead wife, whom he may or may not have killed.

But with all that being said, I am very curious to see if the game will find its audience. If successful, it could absolutely be a template for a new type of widely participatory narrative video game experience.

“The important thing for me is that the audience is going to create a canon,” Navok says. “In a Telltale game, every ending is equally valid because you’re the player. That’s not the case here. We’re building a television series. This thing will lock in when it’s chosen.”

Silent Hill: Ascension is available today and premieres proper at 9 p.m.ET/6 p.m. PT.

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juyeonjin · 3 years

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Exquisite Encounter

Genre: Smut

Member: Taehyung, Jungkook

Warnings: smut, double penetration

Word Count: 2K

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Taehyung and Jungkook rented an apartment far near the coastal areas for the a week since they had the whole month off, with no schedule. The previous months before were well loaded, with constant performances and interviews and they just wanted to kick off and relax and just enjoy some tranquility. Initially it would have been with all the members but they thought it would be safer to not bring everyone since it can result in some unwanted scenarios. The other members also went to different places with Jin and Namjoon to a private Island and the rest to a rich friend's mansion, very far from the tumult of the city. Though separated, they all had one thing in common, doing what they can't do anymore because of how popular they were and busy they got. It was nearly eleven and they both got back from a luxurious restaurant and they would have arrived later if they were heading to a club to indulge in alcohol and have private lap dances but this time they had their own slut to use, who was waiting for them in the apartment.

You were a fan of them and mostly loved Jungkook and Taehyung and when you captivated the eyes of Taehyung during one of their concert, Taehyung asked one of the guards to bring you discreetly so he could meet you. Soon enough you were talking backstage and you couldn't keep your body from shaking from the nervosity and almost believed you were going to be banned from concerts for whatever reasons. "I swear, I didn't do anything, I didn't even bring my phone with me to take pictures or what not", you uttered in front of a smiling Taehyung who placed his still veiny hands from on your arm and replied, "Haha, you are so cute, do not worry you did nothing wrong, maybe only having my attention the whole time when I was on stage." When you heard that your heartbeat accelerated, and he then sighed, "How am I supposed to give you my number without your phone with you, pretty girl."

And that was it, the last amount of strength you had to keep you from mentally screaming, evaporating and your mind just, "What the fuck did I just hear, have I actually been knocked out by the guard that brought me here, is the man of my fucking dreams asking me out, ...!? wait does that mean I have to wipe out all information about me and start a brand new celebrity life, am I ready for this, I thought I was prepared but oh god, this is so sudden....", you stopped yourself from thinking when you heard a faint cough from the side and you wished you didn't turn your head to the direction when the Jeon Jeongguk made his way near his brother, all sweaty, veins very apparent and smirk on his face. "So I see I wasn't the only one to have been distracted by her the whole time I was performing", Jungkook said with a flirty tone and Taehyung smirked back at him then to you, and then replied with what could be the equivalent to the final blow to elimate the final boss in a game, "Her face and body just calls you and compels you to savour each moment your eyes lay on her", "My thoughts exactly hyung", Jk added.

___________________________________________

You were in a dream state for real cause how is this happening right now!? The two hottest man in the world and the ones behind your fantasies right there in front of you, talking to you and potentially wanting to date you? or was it just going to stop there, though you hoped it didn't since not only was your blood rushing so fast but the heat that formed in your core was clouding your thoughts and the desire to bring your fantasies to life was becoming harder to repel. "So if I understand, you both are in love with me," you said teasingly knowing well how they would react and you just wanted to hear that for some reason. "Love? Isn't it too fast princess, I don't even know your name yet and also I can only start considering after I get a taste of those lips" Taehyung said while Jungkook grinned knowing well what Taehyung was trying to do and he wouldn't want to miss that too. You would've have been taken aback if you weren't already thinking of both of them railing you against the wall of their company and without thinking too much of it, "Well if my first kiss will have to be with master Kim Taehyung, I can only comply, unless master Jeon might want to do it first" you said moving your eyes onto Jungkook who was loving everything that was going down right now.

Taehyung loved it too, he was going to fuck you but not with his eyes like he did while on stage. He loved how you teased them back, called him Master!? and he would be your first kiss!? unless Jungkook gets it first, which he wouldn't let happen since he was the one who brought you here and began all of this. Both him and Jungkook's bulge were being obviously apparent from their their pants and you noticed that and you could only internally scream, " Omg, it's actually going to happen!". The thought of both of them fucking you in all your holes, when they bring you back at the company or maybe in one of their houses? all sweaty and roughly pounding you and dumping several loads in you made you soaking wet however before that one last step of having them inside you, a staff came and urged the boys to come back. Though, it made you think and even realise that obviously they couldn't just make it happen liket that, unless they could? but now you felt you eyes starting to get wet as you thought that all of this would end. "Were they just playing? was it just some teasing and flirting and nothing more? Am I not going to have them inside of me?" Taehyung who sensed that you were starting to doubt got closer to you while Jungkook stayed behind. His hand held your wrists and he slowly came near your ears to whisper, "Do not worry, we will meet again, you just have to remember my number unless your mind would be to busy thinking of my cock." He then whispered his number slowly, the air coming from his lips tickling your ears softly and you could've have sworn you felt like he was fucking you from how intense all of this was, how close he was too you, how his breath traveled around your collarbone and his hands gripping your wrists.

He lifted his head and looked back at you with his adoring smile, which actually calmed you down and made you trust him and that you will see him and possibly Jungkook too again. "I sincerely hope I can see you again and up until then I would not stop thinking about you", he told you and Jungkook added, "Try to keep those lips for us until we see you again, baby."

Taehyung chuckled and you smiled back at them and you then you said jokingly, "Well I'm going to another concert in two days, so.... Idk what crazy thing is going to happen this time around", knowing very well you had no conceet to attend or whatsoever. They both happily smiled back at you guessing that you were teasing them again which made the anticpation to meet you even more intense and you couldn't help but let out a laugh, which they joined. They said goodbye to you and looked at you with gleaming smiles and with eyes that said, "See you soon" as you disappeared from their view.

___________________________________________

"Oh look at our baby, so impatient for her daddy's cock", Taehyung said with his deep voice that made your heat rise instantly. Jungkook and Taehyung got close to your naked body, kneeling on the long sofa and looked down at you with their piercing and lustful eyes. You couldn't believe it, it was really the start of a whole week of being the slut of these two hot men and the idea itself was enough inundate your veins with this erotic poison.

Taehyung: "Take off my pants and have my cock in your mouth baby, it's all yours."

You didn't hesitate to proceed and you unzipped his pants and pulled it down together with his gucci boxers. His was massive and already stained his boxers his pre-cum. You licked his whole length from the base to the tip with a slow tantalising motion, making you to keep your eyes fixed onto Taehyung's. Jungkook has already removed all of his clothes and was sitting next to your pretty figure.

Taehyung: "Come on baby, show me how you much you want this more than any candy,"

You nodded sheepishly and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock as you took all of it till it reach the back of your throat. Your gagging sound, didn't skip Taehyung as he groaned with his hips travelling back and forth into your warm entry, trammelling your breath.

Taehyung: "You love that hmmm? Pleasure your daddy's cock at the expense of your own comfort."

You removed his dick from your mouth as you nodded to him but he placed both of his hands at the back of your head as he penetrated your mouth and began bucking into your throat.

"I didn't say that you could take your mouth off now did I!?" Taehyung confronted.

Jungkook placed his hand onto your slit and began rubbing your sensitive area with a soft motion that made you wetter each second. You shifted and now you were enclosing Jungkook's dick inside your mouth. He hissed in satisfaction and began thrusting upwards into your mouth causing your eyes to water. Taehyung was behind your rounded butt and had his tongue work throughout your slit. He was so good at it, eating you like his favourite dessert. Before he could release into your mouth, Jungkook lifted you up by the hair, freeing his dick from your lips and he stared at your eyes for a few seconds. "Babe, you really love this cock of mine, hmmm, a little more and I would've you swallow my seeds. Taehyung it's time to make her go for a ride."

They were seated in opposite directions with their cocks aligning next to each other as you descended. You opened up nicely for them, welcoming their throbbing dicks inside your walls.

Jungkook: "Oh baby...., you are taking us so well."

Taehyung: "Mmmm yeah...., so wet and soft. You're gliding up and down so easily... fuck..."

The conjoined moans of the two men was the ideal music that made every motion of your hips more and more pleasurable. You couldn't hold it any longer and you came onto their dicks still inside on you. They both groaned louder when your walls tightened around them.

Jungkook: "Fuck..! That felt so good just now."

Taehyung: "Come on baby, be a good girl and make us cum inside of you."

Your bounced onto them a little faster, taking them as deep as you could until you felt their cocks shoot ropes of cum inside of you, filling you immensely that it was dripping out already.

You continued riding them for a few more seconds before sliding out and then got onto your knees on the floor. They both sat up on the couch and you went to suck Taehyung's cock slowly while jerking Jungkook's cock at the same pace.

Jungkook: "She was so good, right hyung..?"

Taehyung: "Yeahhh.... let's see if she can take us both in her other hole...", he replied lazily since you were sucking on his whole length still sensitive from the fuck you've just had.

#jungkook smut #taehyung smut #bts smut #bts jungkook smut #kim taehyung smut

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sidespart · 3 years

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The Fall of King Romulus Part 3

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him…

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Pairings: Mostly Platonic LAMP and all the found family feels. Could be read as pre-slash.

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Remus. Remus, Remus, Remus.

The mad Prince of Notaleveale.

Remus was coming here. Remus was coming to Steveange and if Romulus saw him-

Roman had to leave.

Which was easier said than done; when the streets were crowded with hoards of shoppers and revellers all pressing against him, blocking his path, stealing the air out of his lungs-

“Roman!”

He needed to go. He need to find Virgil and Patton in whatever rooms they’d managed to find, collect his belongings and-

No. That would take too long – he could replace the clothes and books, he already had his sword-

“Roman, what’re you-”

- but he needed his lute. To make any kind of living he had to be able to perform. It was the only thing he was good at and once he’d got away he’d be -

He could do it. He’d run away before. He survived alone, without anyone, he could do it again and-

“Roman! Stop!”

He stopped.

Logan. Heading towards him. But he hadn’t given a time frame and if Roman grit his teeth and pushed past the spike of pain he could start to move again in just a second-

“Wait!”

Dammit.

Roman waited. Fists clenched by his side, until Logan was next to him.

“Roman.”

His chest was tight. His brain wasn’t -wasn’t working right and Logan looked so odd, with his glasses askew and his face flushed – had he been running?

“I thought I saw Patton.” Roman blurted.

It was the first excuse that popped into his head and it was clearly not – not good enough. Logan was frowning at him, a pinched expression, studying him like an experiment and-

Roman hated him, suddenly.

Logan was an upstart swot with ideas above his station and a chip on his shoulder. He poked and prodded and lost them jobs with his terse words and his better than you attitude. He reminded Roman of the tutors who snap at him for his lack of understanding and bark orders for him to recite, repeat, remember, to be better, smarter, stronger: someone worthy of his title.

He reminded him most of all of Julius. His fathers closest advisor, who had been charged with unravelling the Princes’ curses. He was the one who had helped Romulus learn how to push against his curse. He would give him orders that were almost impossible to follow and watch with cold eyes as Romulus struggled to disobey. Together they’d categorised how much pain he could withstand, what orders could be navigated and misinterpreted and which ones he was truly helpless against.

Once, he’d bid Romulus to stand on one leg. And left him there until his muscles started to cramp and shake, waiting to see if gravity or the curse was stronger. Romulus had been in tears by the end. Had even wondered, briefly, about complaining to his parents. But is was such a silly, innocuous order compared to other experiments. What had truly upset him was how Julian had just stood there, not speaking, his eyes distant and cold and calculating as he noted down every twitch and whimper from the boy. Even when he circled him, Romulus could feel those eyes boring into the back of his neck like a-

“Princey.”

Roman blinked. Julius’ practice room disappeared, replaced with the sights and sound of the Steveange street. Logan was in front of him and his eyes were far from cold. When he spoke it was with the same gentle tone that Roman had heard him use when Virgil’s worries overwhelmed him or when Patton woke from a nightmare and didn’t know where he was.

“Did the cro- the woman. Did she say something to you?” Logan was holding his hand. Gently but firmly, he tugged at Romans tightly clenched fingers, encouraging them to unfurl. Roman stared uncomprehendingly at the deep crescent marks he’d made in his palm.

Slowly, Logan released his right hand and reached for his left, repeating the process.

Roman felt shame ripple through him.

Logan wasn’t Julius. Logan would never push him so far he broke.

Logan was his friend and Roman has made him worry with his silly behaviour and his slapdash lie. But he could fix it.

He forced a smiled. Flexed his fingers and straightened up his full height. Made a show of looking around him.

“I swear I saw him. Big man, big sword, big smile – he’s hard to mistake!”

Hesitantly, Logan glanced around too before quickly refocusing on Roman.

“Are you sure you –“

“Ah well, the mind plays trick I suppose – must be hunger getting to me, speaking of which…”

Roman reached forward and deftly snatched the bag from Logan's grasp, reaching in blindly and shoving the first pastry he found into his mouth.

“Mmmm so good!” He beamed at Logan with berry stained teeth, flakes of pastry flying through the air. “Aren’t you going to have one?”

Logan stared at him. Roman kept his smile sweet and his eyes clear. He held up the bag and wiggled it enticingly.

Hesitantly, Logan took the bag and selected a tart. Keeping his eyes on the bard the entire time, he ate his treat with much more refinement then Roman had shown. “Holding back?” Roman asked, teasing, “I’ve seen you eat jam before, there’s no point pretending to have table manners now.”

Logan just hmphed but his shoulders relaxed slightly and Roman decided to take that as a victory. “We should get going” Roman said and started walking, Logan easily falling into step beside him.

The streets were crowded enough that none of the sellers seemed to feel the need to call to Roman specifically, and so this time he was free to investigate the stalls he was actually interested in.

But instead he stayed by Logan's side

Logan was a good friend. For all he claimed to lack an understating of emotional nuances he was letting Roman have his space. He’d even distracted him earlier, when his biggest concern had been the a spike of homesickness after meeting their northern customer.

He was nothing like Julius.

Roman was going to miss him so much.

***

Roman kept up his performance of normality all the way back to the main square, where they had agreed to meet the others once their mission was done. The sky was beginning to turn dark by the time they got there, though it was easy enough to navigate from the sheer number of stalls still in operation, each one boasting its own selection of colourful lanterns.

“This is fantastic!” Roman gasped theoretically, spinning on one foot to take in the whole spectacle.

“It’s a fire hazard.” Logan muttered with a frown.

They found Virgil waiting for them by the central fountain. He had manged to find a seat on the fountains edge but was wedged between two young couples who had clearly taken the romantic festival atmosphere to heart. The healer’s shoulders were up by his ears and his cloak was wrapped so tightly around himself it looked constricting. When he saw them he sprang to his feet so quickly he almost knocked one of the young ladies into the water.

“Took you two long enough.”

Roman and Logan glanced at each other.

“Logan got lost-”

“Roman kept wandering off.”

“-We brought you baked goods!”

Virgil took one of the two remaining pastries with minimal grumbling and led them out of the square. They took the north east road, a path that curved its wary upwards into the higher levels of the city. Here the buildings were all built of a blush-pink marble that sparkled in the evening twilight. The streets were wide, with neatly arranged flowerbeds and street lights which had the steady glow of Arkazeii glow lamps rather than the flicker of oil. There were certainly no traders spread out on blankets. Logan looked distinctly unimpressed.

“Was this inn you found an…economical choice?”

“It was a ‘the whole town’s rammed and this was the only place with a room left’ choice.” Virgil snarked “and don’t worry – its one room for all four of us with no breakfast included, if you were worried about getting too… bourgeoisie…or whatever."

Logan raised his hands for peace.

“I’m sure you did the best you could.”

“Well …we were lucky.” Virgil told him, and then glanced over at Roman, his lip twitching.

“Apparently they give discounts to performers.”

***

The inn was certainly a cut above their normal haunts. With brightly painted walls almost obscured by well pruned climbing plants, outdoor seating, and a wrought iron gate leading to spacious stables behind the building. Even the doors were of better quality then your typical village tavern – made of wood heavy enough to make a satisfying crash when Roman stormed in.

The room was crowded, but Patton really was hard to miss. Roman shoved his way through to the back table where the big man sat waiting. Leaving other customers cursing in his wake.

‘Hey kiddo!’ Patton greeted him with a wide smile “Did you-“

“Key.” Roman snarled.

Patron blinked and him, shock writ large on his face. “Sorry?”

“The key. To my room. Give it.” Roman snapped. “It is mine right? Since you seem happy to pimp me out in exchange for-“

“Hey!” That would be Virgil. Roman half thought he had left both men behind in his rage after Virgil’s little announcement, but the elf at least seemed to have kept up. He’d reached the table just in time to hear the start of Roman’s rant. “What the hell is your problem Princey?”

“My problem? Oh I’m sorry, I’M not the one signing other people up to sing for their supper without permission Virgil.”

“You like singing for your – we thought you’d want to!”

“Well it would have been nice to have a choice!”

“Virgil. Roman.” That was Logan, it had taken longer for the shorter man to force his way through the crowd but he wasted no time now in inserting himself into Romans business. “whatever this is… it’s not about putting on a show.”

He turned to the other two. Virgil scowling, Patton wide eyed.

“He had an…episode in the market.”

“Excuse me?” Roman shouted.

“Roman, whatever disturbed you, you practically ran away.”

“Well perhaps I had simple grown tired of looking at your face? Had you considered that?”

He turned his back to Logan, rounding on Patton again: “Now, give me the-“

Patton already had his hand out, wrought iron key resting loosely in his palm.

“We’re on the fourth floor.” he said calmly as Roman snatched it from him. “First door once you get up the stairs.” Roman spun on his heel only to find Virgil blocking his path.

“Move.” Roman hissed.

“What is wrong with you?” Roman narrowed his eyes. Virgil looked angry. Looked one second away from telling him to sit down, shut up, stop causing a fuss. He wondered if he could get past him without using his sword.

“I’ll bring you up some food in a bit,” Roman blinked glancing back at Patton, startled. The warrior still hadn’t moved from the table - admittedly no easy task in the cramped corner- and was looking at him calmly.

“I don’t want anything” Roman muttered, sullen.

“But you might later.” Patton smiled at him. Not knowing how to respond Roman turned back to Virgil. The elf glanced between the two, chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, before sighing and stepping to the side. Not fast enough to prevent Roman from knocking his shoulder with his own as he pushed past however.

It wasn’t as satisfying as he hoped.

At a guess, the room was normally meant for storage not guests. Two rickety looking beds had been shoved in, so close together they might as well have been one. There was one small table forced between the end of one bed and the wall, with a basin of water perched on top. Someone, presumably Patton, had organised their bags neatly at the end of the beds. Roman’s was at the far end, closest to the window. Then Patton, then Virgil with Logan closest to the door, next to the only built in shelf where a candle had been left for the night. Roman would be able to wake with the dawn, as he liked to do, and Logan would have light for the longest to stay up and read.

Romans lute was not on the floor with his pack. Instead he found in had been placed on the bed itself, propped up on his pillow, away from any potential harm.

Whatever righteous anger he had been able to hang on too as he stomped upstairs dropped out of him now like a stone from a cliff. Without it, the despair he had felt in the market came rushing back. He sank down right there by the door, bringing his knees up to his chest as he’d done in the forest. As he used to do in Julius’ room.

He almost wished Julius was here – at least he would tell him not to cry.

The through was so absurd he let out a weak snotty laugh and buried his head in his arms.

He needed to leave Steveange.

He didn’t want to leave them.

But they had planned to stay for a week at least, hopefully longer.

Convince them to leave early? Except he couldn’t explain why. Find them a job out of the city? How? When the coronation and accompanying celebrations were over it would be easy enough to find a traveling group in need of a little extra protection, but for now no one was leaving.

They’d been excited to come. Virgil want to try the city baths, famed for their heated pools and soothing water. Logan had been talking about the library for half the trip. Patton was just excited to explore the city itself, meet the people and try the food. He loved when they stopped in busier towns but it was a rarity.

There was no way Roman would be able to convince them to leave just because he wanted to.

Roman did what other people wanted. It was all he knew how to do.

And even if he had a convincing reason…well, they probably didn’t want him around anymore anyway.

He scrambled up, grabbed the first pillow he could reach and buried his face in it to muffle a scream of frustration which turned into more sobs.

He was so pathetic.

Since he’d left home, he’d kept his memories, kept Romulus, buried as deep as he could. But now it was like Romulus was just under his skin. Ready to jump out If he let himself slip. With all his anger and hurt and fear.

Romulus was a liability.

Romulus was a murder. Or would be. If Roman couldn’t think.

He stepped over to his pack, still hugging the pillow to him like a teddy bear, and started to review the contents. He didn’t need to take all of this with him, surely? Half of it wasn’t even his, their belongings having become more and more intertwined the longer they travelled.

The healing salve was rightfully Virgil’s, the soft shirt he wrapped himself in during cold nights was actually Patton’s, at least one of the notebooks belonged to Logan.

He opened the nearest book to check, but instead of Logan's neat lists his own sloppy scrawl stared back at him. Song lyrics and passing thoughts and, on the next page, an unfinished sketch. It was of Virgil, hand covering his mouth but eyes betraying his laughter. The other pages, he knew contained scribbles of all three of them. He flicked back and found his favourite, the page marked with a yellowed leaf he couldn’t remember picking up.

It showed all three in one sketch. Logan, sleeping and so looking years younger, head pillowed on Virgil’s thigh. Virgil was turned towards Patton, rolling his eyes as if to say ‘can you believe this?’ but making no move to actually shift scholar off him. Patton was laughing, he was the most well rendered of the three figures, you could almost see his shoulders shaking.

Roman looked at it for a moment. Then slowly replaced the book mark and closed it. This would have to come with him.

A knock at the door startled him so badly he dropped the book, which bounced under the bed.

“Kiddo? Can I come it?”

Fuck.

Patton. He had -he had been so, so unbelievably rude to Patton.

His first instinct, which was admittedly not a good one, was to jump out of the window.

Roman took a deep breath. Focusing on the mundane task of sorting items had cleared his head somewhat. He was still a little shaky but his eyes were dry. He knew what would be expected of him now - Romulus had spent most of his life apologising.

“Come in.” he croaked and stood, squaring his shoulders.

Patton entered alone, two bowls of something that smelled delicious cradled in his arms.

Roman ignored the sudden spike of hunger – the fruit tart seemed a long time ago now- and bowed from the waist. He kept his back ramrod straight and bent low enough that it quickly became uncomfortable. It was the kind of bow Romulus would only have given his father or elder brother.

“Patton, I owe you my most humble apology I-“

“Roman I am so sorry.”

“The way I spoke to you was the height of disrespect and unprin- ungentlemanly behaviour I – wait, what?”

He straightened up and looked at Patton, confused. “Why are you sorry?”

“Roman, I – wait hold on.” Patton handed him one of the bowls and turned to close the door. “Do you mind if we sit?” he asked and Roman nodded, smiling despite himself. Patton was the politest person he had ever met.

Once they were both seated, Patton’s bad leg stretched out in front of him, Patton looked at him seriously.

“Roman you were right downstairs. We should never have promised you’d perform without asking you first - no it's true!”

But Roman was already shaking his head. “Patton you were fine, you know I love singing! I was the one acting like, like some sort of beast I-“

“I know you love singing but that doesn’t mean we get to pick and choose when-“

“But I wanted to perform as much as possible whilst we were here- I’d told you that!”

“-especially after travelling all week. We were, er, presumptuous.”

Roman stared at him.

“Unlike this soup, which is pre – scrumptious.”

Patton beamed at him. Roman groaned.

“Anyway I’m sorry for letting you stew-“ he held up the bowl again waggling his eyebrows “- up here for so long, but we needed to make things right with the landlord.”

Roman, who had been starting to relax under the force of two puns in a row, tensed again. “What things?”

Patton smiled. “We paid the difference – you don’t have to perform! Uhh unless you want to of course, but it’s your choice.” He nodded decisively whilst Roman gaped.

“b-but isn’t it expensive?”

Patton just shrugged, “Well, the last job paid well didn’t it?”

“Not that well!”

“Aw c’mon kiddo, what’s the point of having money if we don’t spend it? Right?”

Not knowing what to say. Roman shoved a spoonful of stew into his mouth without tasting it. Guilt turning the meal to ash.

“Patton…how many days did you pay for?”

“The rest of the week! And there’s still enough to have some fun at the markets, don’t worry, we can all have a – hey!” Patton put his bowl down, shuffling closer to put one warm hand on Roman’s knee.” Roman, hey kiddo, buddy what’s wrong?”

Roman found, quite to his surprise, that he was trembling. He followed Patton's example and put the bowl carefully on the floor before digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I…can’t Pat. I can’t stay here. I have to go.”

“Go?” Patton looked at him with confusion clear in his big brown eyes, “But why kiddo? You don’t like the inn?”

Roman groaned shaking his head “not the inn. The city. I’m not – I can’t – if ‘m here it- “ he let out a whine of frustration, hating his curse heavy tongue.

Never tell anyone about our conversation.

“I just-“ My brother is coming and if I see him I-

“If – “ my brother is coming and he won’t be alone. There are people who know who I really am and I –

“Okay.”

Romans head snapped up.

Patton still had a frown on his face but when he looked at Roman his eyes were as serious as Roman had ever seen them. “If you can’t tell me the details it’s fine but-“ he lent forward, “Roman, are you safe here?”

Without breathing, Roman shook his head. No.

Patton nodded and squeezed his knee. “Well then of course we’re not staying.” Hesitantly, he lifted his arm and rested one large hand on the back of Romans neck. Forcing their eyes to meet. “Whatever it is – we will help you. You know that don’t you?”

Embarrassingly, Roman felt his eyes filling with tears.

“We’ll leave in the morning.” Patton told him. Patton stood up, taking Romans congealing stew and his own empty bowl and headed to the door. He paused, one hand on the door handle. “Everything’s going to be okay kiddo.” he smiled, “We love you.”

And he was gone.

For a long moment Roman sat frozen, staring at the closed door.

“Yeah.” He agreed, eventually. “Right.”

Except. They didn’t. Not really.

They loved Roman.

Roman had screamed and insulted them and instead of kicking him out of their group like they had every right to do, they had given up what little money they had just to make Roman feel better.

And Roman was a lie.

Roman was Romulus with a bad haircut. And Romulus was everything they weren’t’ – a stupid, pampered, prince with no power or pride.

Patton might be willing to upheaval their lives just on Roman's say so, But Logan and Virgil were more practically minded. They would want explanations. Might even demand them.

Never tell anyone about your curse. Remove yourself from anyone who might ask you about it and put as much distance between you as you can.

Romulus was a liability.

One they shouldn’t have to deal with.

He strapped his lute to his back and secured his dagger in a hidden pocket that Virgil had taught him how to sow. Everything else he left, including, after a moments hesitation, his sword. He had been training Logan to use it, on and off, and whilst the scholar was no solider he was improving. At the very least, it would be some source of protection until they could hire another swordhand for their travels.

The climbing plants he had noticed on the way in made getting down from the window much easier than he had originally anticipated. Dusting off his hands he skirted the building, taking care to avoid the large windows of the main hall, until he found the entrance to the the stables.

He wasn’t proud of it, but he had stolen before when he first left home. He would have to again now in order to put some distance between the city and himself.

It wasn’t his worst plan.

And it might even have worked, had they not already been waiting for him.

When Romulus was eleven, and had taken to following the young Marquis de Orenlla around like a love sick puppy. Even now, under the weak light of a covered lantern and with almost fifteen years distance from the memories, he still recognised him instantly.

“Good evening, your highness.” The Marquis smile was as dazzling as he remembered, although his eyes were colder.

He had no army with him, and no weapon that Roman could see. But then, why would he need one?

“Come with me.”

Roman went.

part 4

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #creativitwins #this chapter is just #roman having an extended panic and making piss poor decisions #but also having great friends #alas #sidespart writes #TS: Fall of Romulus

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ppersonna · 4 years

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indulgence - jjk | m

love of mine, won't you lay by my side and rest your weary eyes before we're out of time? give me one last kiss for soon such distance will stretch between our lips - as much as i ever could, city and colour

↳ summary- Sometimes your boyfriend Jungkook reminds you how much you love him by doing absolutely nothing at all.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 3.8k

↳ pairing- jungkook x reader

↳ genre- fluffy smut, smutty fluff, whatever you wanna call it. its got fluff and smut, established relationship

↳ warnings- oral sex (m receiving), penetrative sex, real hot love making, squirting? sure, unprotected sex (condoms are cool use them)

↳ a/n- lindy is in her feels apparently because this was supposed to be hot and kinky and i just made it real romantic but whatever dskgjkg. thanks to @sugarly-laysa for requesting jk smut i hope this is good for you, booboo ily all thanks for reading!! feel free to come chat with me, request smth, tell me how your day is, etc etc etc. enjoy cute babie jk being cute.

You’re not sure why the universe decided you are lucky enough to be the one to love Jeon Jungkook, but as you trudge into your apartment after an inexplicably horrific day at work, you realize you should thank your lucky stars for aligning just right to make him yours.

Jungkook doesn’t realize you’re home. He’s too distracted at the sink, hands soapy as he scrubs at the dishes from the day. He’s wearing those jeans you love, the ones that fit him tightly and show off his perfectly shaped ass and toned thighs. He’s singing off key to his own songs, hips rolling in a minute version of his carefully practiced choreography. He performs for the dishes only, unaware of the audience of one in the doorway.

A smile that hasn’t broken through the cloud of despair all day makes its way on to your lips without you even noticing.

Jungkook is like the lighthouse in the storm. He guides you home and keeps you safe from crashing and burning. His presence brings you safe harbor and you find yourself able to be at peace no matter what, as long as he’s there keeping his light on for you.

You don’t announce your presence. You’re unwilling to end his show too early. He continues scrubbing at pots, often flinging his watery hands around the room as he continues to dance like he’s performing at Seoul Olympic Stadium all over again. Although his movements are jerky and unrefined now in his multitasking and his singing is definitely a pitch or two off, he pours his heart into the private performance.

It makes your heart clench. You love how much he loves his career, his life. He’s grown up in it—it's the only world he knows and yet it still hasn’t tainted him. He grew into a man capable of so much more than just singing and dancing, and you loved watching him blossom with every passing year.

Jungkook has clearly taken care to clean the entire house today. You hadn’t asked him, and truthfully you never needed to. He was as good of a partner as you could get. He never felt you should be responsible for household tasks. He took care of his own things, like a grown man should. He adored it when you helped, washed his clothes for him or cleaned up his mess after a night of gaming, but whatever you gave to him, he did back for you plus some.

As you lean against the wall, staring at the love of your life popstar boyfriend pretending to be a popstar, wooden spoon as microphone and all, you recognize you’re the luckiest girl in Korea. Maybe even the world.

Jungkook is pirouetting around as he hits his high notes of ‘ON’ and shakily ends his solo in a deep lunge. It breaks you from your silent role, a laugh finally making its way out and he snaps his eyes open and blushes.

“Hi,” he says sheepishly. He holds the spoon in both clasped hands, as if to signify he totally wasn’t just singing into it like a microphone.

“Hi,” you reply. Your coat and shoes come off, bag hung on the hook, and you make your way to him.

“You washed the dishes,” you state as you approach. He looks confused for a moment.

“Yeah, I made lunch earlier so I wanted to get them cleaned up.” His confusion is apparent, unable to decipher the look in your eyes.

You’re staring at him with heat, an undeniable hunger. The fact that Jeon Jungkook is yours and is in your kitchen doing his own dishes hits you hard. It soaks you to the core. Maybe it’s the domestic side of you, but you’re absolutely salivating at the thought he cleaned the kitchen and his mess with no problem. He didn’t even do it to impress you, he just did it. And you’re aching for him.

You’re slowly lowering yourself to your knees and Jungkook’s eyes widen.

“Wh-what are you doing? You just got home from work.”

“I’m going to suck your cock.” Your words are simple, and it makes him shiver.

“But why?” The bulge in his pants grows regardless of his suspicion.

Your hands make their way up his solid thighs, muscles rippling under your favorite pair of jeans he owns, until they land at his button and fly.

“Because I really, really, really want to suck your cock until you cum down my throat. Then I might do it again.”

He stifles a groan and nearly drops the wooden makeshift microphone from his grip.

“Not that I’m complainin-ahhh...” he gasps as you pull his pants and underwear down to his knees and his cock springs free. “Shit—I mean I’m down but is there a reason?”

Your hands rub at his thighs once more and you smile sweetly at him.

“Because I am in love with you.”

Jungkook is still confused. You know he wants to ask more, but your hand grips his length and all questions fly out of his mind as fast as they enter.

“Okaaayy,” he sighs.

He wants to tip his head back in bliss as you pump your hand, but he also wants to maintain eye contact with you. How can he not? You’re gazing up at him as if he’s the one responsible for putting all the stars in the sky—like he lit every single one of them for you. The intensity is intoxicating to both of you.

You can’t move your eyes away from him. They trace over the lines of his face, the smoothness of his skin, the way his hair falls onto his forehead with just the perfect swoop. You’re seeing him through fresh eyes for a moment, and it feels like you’re drunk.

“I love you,” you murmur as your lips move closer to him. Jungkook sighs and lets his eyes close for a moment. He can feel the heat of your breath on his tip, you’re sure of that, and as much fun as it is to tease him you can’t bring yourself to do it tonight when you’re so desperate to make him feel good.

“I love you too,” he coos. “Especially when you come home and wanna blow me immediately.” He grins cheekily as he opens his eyes back up and looks at you. Jungkook can’t stay serious in a situation to save his life. Leave it to him to still try to make you smile when you’re about to milk his cock dry with your mouth.

“I should do it more often,” you assess as your tongue flicks out at the head. You let it rub gently at the slit at the top where moisture has accumulated. It tastes salty, it tastes like him.

“You should?” He questions with a hiss at the feel of you. “I mean, yeah, you should.” He corrects himself and bites his lip. Your tongue is still laving at the surface of his head, a sweet torture that makes his knees feel weak.

“You did the dishes,” you repeat as your tongue now slides down his shaft. It follows down the underside, the vein guiding you towards his pelvis and down to his balls. You allow yourself to spend some time there, licking and sucking at them lightly.

“Oh f-fuck,” he gasps. “If this is what I get for doing the dishes, I’ll do them m-more.”

You hum in reply as you suction them into your mouth and swirl them gently. Your hand remains on his thick length, gently pumping and caressing him to keep him stimulated. You can tell he’s losing his mind. He’s been caught off guard and is now getting his cock worshipped by you. You’re still in your work clothes—oxford shirt and tight skirt. It makes Jungkook even harder, if that is possible. He likes the idea that you literally couldn’t wait another second to get his dick in your hot little mouth.

You release him from your mouth and he moans at the feeling of the air on the moistened skin.

“Fuck,” he whines. “You’re so hot.”

You smile up at him again as you kiss his length, punctuating each spot on his dick with a press of your lips. You trail back up to the head where he’s leaked more pre-cum, and you waste no time in wrapping your lips around the tip and suckling lightly.

“Shit!” He yelps at the sudden pleasure. “Oh, my god.”

He’s going to lose the ability to speak coherently, you both know it. He can last until you’re taking him into your throat, then he may as well be speaking a foreign language. You never understand what he’s saying except the occasional gasp of your name. You can’t wait until he gets there tonight. You love sucking him stupid.

Your mouth accepts more of him in, tongue lapping at any surface it can as you pull him in deeper to your mouth. He’s sighing his ‘please’s and ‘thank you’s like a proper gentleman, and one soapy hand comes to rest at your hair. He gently pushes back any bangs or stray sections of hair that threaten to impede your pursuit. He holds your hair back gently and watches you close.

Doe's eyes look back at him and soon you’ve got him buried inside you. Tip to the back of your throat, your nose buried in the light splatters of hair at his base. He is whimpering now, can’t believe a few minutes ago he was washing the dishes and now he’s balls deep in your throat.

“Babe, oh my god,” he’s trying hard not to stutter. He feels like he could cum, but he wants more. He begs his body to behave, to let you have your way with him. “S-so good.”

It pleases you; the approval rolling over your body like fine silk. His voice is shaky and getting close to the sexy, fucked out sound that has you dripping.

You allow him to rest inside your throat for a moment, swallowing around him to allow him the feel of the tightness, before you’re pulling away and starting a pace of bobbing your head up and down on him. You never let your eyes leave his. Even when he’s closing them in pleasure, you maintain constant contact with his.

He looks back down at you and feels his body quake. You look incredible, still all dressed up and made up, red lips wrapped around his cock and bobbing a pace that gets him closer to the edge than he’d like to admit.

His cock feels heavy on your tongue and it’s exhilarating. You almost wish you could be attached to his cock at all times, sucking him until he’s had his fill for a few moments, then returning to the action. You kick yourself for all the times you’ve not been sucking his dick.

Your hand joins in to assist your plight, fist gripping the areas of his cock you cannot reach with your mouth alone and pumping in time with your head bobs. His cock quickly slicks up with your saliva and it’s easy to stroke him with the lubrication.

“Ohhhhh, fuuuu-,” he whines. You smile at yourself. You’ve made it. You’re at the place where Jungkook forgets his native language and begins speaking a new one that only he is capable of translating. He groans out unintelligible syllables, and it makes you go even faster knowing he’s past the point of no return.

“Be-,..” he gasps. “Bayb-... Gonna cum.” He warns. His thighs are quivering and you allow the hand that isn’t stroking his perfect cock to completion to rest on one solid muscle, hoping it will help still the seizing in his legs. You don’t slow down, don’t stop for a single second as you know he’s so near the edge.

You can tell by his facial expressions when he’s about to hit his high. His moans go from loud and echoing around the room to silent, mouth agape in noiseless rapture. His eyes close tight and his body tenses. If he was naked, like he normally is when you’re doing this, you would see his abs tense so hard that a defined six-pack is on display like a little reward for sucking his dick so well. His neck veins become more prominent and you can tell that with just a few more sucks, a little lick here and a nice hard pump there,

He’s cumming. You feel the heat of his seed spill into your mouth and you slow your motions but don’t stop, never stop, as you coax as much of him out as you can. His silence is broken as he groans in time with each pulse of his cock.

It’s a few seconds later when he comes back to reality, when he’s restored with the ability to speak a language you both know.

You pull away from him only when you feel his cock weaken, soften, inside of your mouth. You release him and give him a show of your open mouth and hot white cum loaded on your tongue. Like you want to savor each drop, not let a single drip go uncherished. It’s a fine dessert, you want to appreciate the flavor forever.

The act makes Jungkook groan.

“What the fuck,” he pants. “That was so fucking good.”

You smile and close your mouth, allowing the pooled liquid to slide down your tongue. For the first time that night, you allow yourself to close your eyes and relish. It’s a familiar taste, the flavor of Jeon Jungkook that is incredibly addictive. It tastes like home. It tastes like love. A high rushes through your veins, more powerful than any drug, of that you’re certain. You feel drunk and euphoric.

He notices this and smiles at you. His cock is still out, hanging out of his jeans awkwardly, but neither of you care. He cups a hand on the side of your face and lets his thumb stroke your cheek gently.

“You’re so good to me,” he whispers. You open your eyes now, level them to look at the man above you. He holds your face delicately and the penetrating stare he returns is adoring. You are his prized possession—in his eyes you are appraised higher than any of the glittering gold awards lining your shelves.

“I love you,” he states. “Not just because you sucked the life out of me.”

There it is again, his cheeky jesting that captured you in the first place. You slip a laugh from your lips as your hands unbutton your top. You’re staring at each other and intention is written in the gaze. He never wavers from your watch. He doesn’t move his glance elsewhere as your top falls to the floor and your bra soon joins it. He’s maintaining his firm sight as you slip the skirt off.

Jungkook pushes the jeans to the floor and steps out of them. There’s no talking, no dialogue. No dirty talk, no kinky banter. His plain shirt joins the rest of the discarded clothing items and he stalks to you and lays you down on the hardwood floor of your kitchen.

It’s so heated, the surrounding energy, that it warms your skin in the otherwise cool air. Jungkook radiates so much it’s palpable. He presses his lips to yours and kisses you deeply, tongue immediately sliding inside as he’s desperate to taste himself on you, to solidify the notion you are his and he is inside you, both physically and metaphorically.

His hand runs down your body as you kiss and suck at each other's lips. It’s like kissing him for the first time all over again the way your body reacts. Your veins feel as if they’ve been dipped into lava, it boils through your entire body and threatens to melt your core. His fingers rub at your breasts for a moment. He’d ordinarily spend time on them, but tonight is different. Tonight there is one mission between the two of you, and that is to have him buried inside your tiny cunt as soon as he can.

The hand slips further. It caresses the smooth skin of your stomach and slowly sweeps down to your core where he feels the full extent of your love, of your arousal. You’re drenched and have been since you first spotted him with his hands deep in soapy water and his own lyrics belting out of his mouth. He doesn’t bother with foreplay—there’s no need tonight. He’s sure he’ll be able to slip inside you with ease. He allows a finger to run over your clit and gather up wetness there, before he drags it up and pulls away from your lips to lick your taste into his mouth. It’s only fair he has you inside as you do him.

The act has you gasping for air, lungs feeling as if you’re breathing underwater.

He lines his cock up easily, finding it as if it’s magnetized to point to the true north of your center.

His lips press against yours again as he pushes into you. The stretch burns, matching the burning of the blood and the heat on your skin. The feeling of him stretching you and filling you make you feel whole and complete. You love the way his head nudges at your cervix, the way it kisses the tip with each thrust.

Jungkook sighs happily as he sinks in to the hilt. You’re replying with your own assortment of moans and praises, kissing his lips hungrily as he starts movement between your hips. His pace is slow and gentle. He pulls out nearly all the way before he spears himself in again. He keeps his eyes on yours, watches the way your plump lips still covered in red lipstick opens and closes in awe and in fulfillment. You’re boring into his own gaze, attempting to convey just how right he feels, how you’ve never felt an intense love-making as the one you’re engaged in now on the hardwood of your kitchen.

You’re tight around him and he’s sure he’s close to the edge again. He feels your channel tighten with each thrust in and it encourages him to ever so gently increase his speed until the sound of skin slapping is timing out a pace like a metronome. He indulges in the feeling of your silken walls and the way it slicks up his cock and pulls him back in tight, desperately.

He lets a hand run back down you, meets your joined centers at the hood of your clit where he rubs circles around the nub. It hits you hard as he murmurs his love and affection for you. He whispers his devotion to you, to your body and soul, to your cunt. He tells you he never wants to pull out of you, wishes he could bury himself inside the wet heat of your pussy for eternity. He’s never felt like this before, and he lets you know with each thrust of his hips, each roll of your clit around his finger.

Your orgasm is approaching, you feel it not just in your core but nearly to your very bones. It’s slithering its way up and wraps around your body, threatening to take over at any moment's notice. You notice your words have run dry, that the sounds leaving you are as unintelligible as his and you realize you’re not so different. He’s fucking you stupid and you feel it.

“C-cumming!” You whine as your thighs tighten. He powers through and continues his motions.

“Cum for me,” he whispers. “Cum, my love. I love making you cum.”

He doesn’t want to be dirty, doesn’t want to make you think of whips or chains that are fun on other nights right now. He wants you to think of him. Only him and the way the simple act of him being inside you and loving you has you coming completely undone. You need no more, your body listens to Jungkook’s coaxing and releases you completely. It hits like a hurricane and makes your body shake. You feel wetness flooding your legs and if you were conscious enough, you’d recognize you’re quite literally squirting, but all you can feel is hot, white, deeply rooted pleasure that has you screaming and your body singing.

Jungkook loses it as you soak his cock. His body reacts to the knowledge he just made you squirt all over his dick from his slow and methodical pace, and he’s losing himself inside you. His cock pulses with the intensity of his orgasm, as if it hadn’t just been given one earlier that rocked him entirely. He pumps himself into you and stills as he feels himself finally stop filling you. He doesn’t leave, still desires the ability to remain inside you all day, every day.

He kisses you again. You’re panting and slick and wet and realizing now that you’ve just creamed yourself and your boyfriend on the floor of your kitchen, but when he kisses you, it doesn’t matter. You don’t care as he presses his chest into yours and kisses you so hard he forgets to breathe, forgets he needs anything at all other than you. His body reminds him of his mortality and he pulls away, cum slicked hand coming up to move your sweaty hair from your face.

There’s no talking. There isn’t a need. You exchange enough between each other with the passion in your eyes and the softness in your grasp.

He holds you like he’s afraid to lose you and he lays himself down on the floor beside you, cock still resting inside your warmth. He strokes his hand through your hair and down your back and over the hills and valleys of your curves. He sketches into your skin his love by the graze of his fingers and sucks your lips to his to embrace you fully. He loves you. You love him. You both have never felt a love like this, one that encompasses you completely and shelters you from anything else.

Jungkook, always unable to maintain a sense of decorum, idly thinks he should wash the dishes more often.

#bts smut #bts jungkook #bts fic #bts jk #maknaesmutsociety #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #btswritersnet #plotsofpastel #ficswithluv #jungkook smut

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1ddotdhq · 3 years

Text

🎤Wed 9 Dec ‘20❄️

LOUIS!!!!!! I am posting this from beyond the dead because Louis’ trailer KILLED MY MIND! But THEN, it brought my body back to life because I HAVE to be around on Saturday to see this show go down. NEW LOUIS SONGS!!!! I AM NOT READY!!! First Eleanor kicked off promo for the livestream day by modeling Louis' purple Balenciaga windbreaker for us with a caption about her “BF”. I mean, it’s a look! No dogs today tho :(. Oddly though after posting herself in the outfit and saying that she was going to go out in the get up, she didn’t! Changed right back into her own clothes after all. Just like how Louis liking her post a few weeks ago was the first sign of action, this too was an indication NEW THINGS COMING! And boy, did they come! After Louis this posted his fifteen (15) second long clip, which included at least one full second each of an as of yet untitled song, KMM, Too Young, Walls, and a badass unidentified riff by Michael Blackwell (POP OFF, dude)! Louis was NOT done there though; fans were wondering what the unfamiliar songs in the trailer were. In what seemed to be a hint, Louis tweeted “copy of a copy of a copy”, which, when googled, turned up with two musical results. The only one that matters is the song ‘Copy of A..’ by Nine Inch Nails (“I am little pieces. Pieces that were picked up on the way, invented with a purpose, a purpose that's become quite clear today”). According to the band, this song is about breaking out of an image that no longer fits you: “How dare you have the audacity to not perform in the role you have been placed in”. Nine Inch Nails has also been really vocal about the importance of artistic freedom and the struggle to maintain it in the face of label interference, which I’m sure Louis can relate to. But! It turned out the untitled song that fans were wondering about isn’t ANY of these, it is, instead a “New song. Not a cover!” according to Louis himself! Let’s be clear: this does not mean that he WASN'T tweeting that lyric about doing a Nine Inch Nails cover, just that the snip in the teaser ISN’T ‘A Copy of A…’. Okay guys, I didn’t say this when the show came up, but now I will: I am IN LOVE with 12/12!! Last year, we got Fine Line on the 12th, and THIS year, we get BRAND! NEW! LOUIS! SONGS!!!!!!! This is one trend that is welcome to keep continuing!

And, for the TRUE piece de resistance: LOUIS’ HAIR! It is long long long, and slightly curly at the ends, and “HIS HAIR” (in all caps) was trending under “Beauty” immediately after the trailer was released. As it SHOULD! It’s BEAUTIFUL! And, in the middle of all of this, we got pictures of Louis from outside his rehearsal studio two weeks ago - OP said he said not to tell anyone about his hair, so they posted them the second after the trailer went up like “well if HE'S showing everyone..' They also scribbled out his hand. People asked does he have a new tattoo?? A ring?? Nope! It seems that he was probably holding a beer, which was edited out because yes certainly fans should jump in to take on the role of 1D management circa 2011 and preserve Louis' squeaky clean teen idol image! If Louis didn't want to be photographed with something he wouldn't come out to do fanservice holding it, give me a break, you really think he's sharing actual secrets with you? Grow up! Anyways, while on twitter Louis followed Isabella Signs, who he met through the charity work that she does for her younger brother. She has a YouTube channel by the same name and does A LOT of really cool SSE (Sign [language] Supported English) covers of all the boys plus 1D, check her out!

The Naughty List music video is OUT! It is a #quarantinevideo made with the green screen that Liam talked the other day about having had set up in his living room for days and how much he disliked that. It features Liam in a Snow Globe and Dixie and her friends dancing in a photobooth in colorful outfits (Liam in a red sequin vest with nothing underneath anyone?), pastel and glittery backgrounds, and lots of Christmas cheer! More than Liam had today, that’s for sure! Dixie loves Christmas, but Liam said that if it wasn’t for his son “pfft, Christmas can pass me by” in the joint live Liam/Dixie did to introduce the video. Steve the Manager (who made Liam’s naughty list for “making him work today”) spent most of the time feeding Liam questions for Dixie and trying to keep him on track. Liam and Dixie shared stories of Christmas presents (Dixie’s best Christmas was when she got a four wheeler), who made their Naughty List this year (Dixie: No one, Liam: “NIALLLL” - no he did not say why), and if they’d ever been kissed under the mistletoe (Dixie was when she was 12, Liam has not yet because he’s “a loonneeelyyyy boyyyy”, but then went on to say, “Mayaaaa you gotta kiss me under the mistletoe!!” so I guess that’s that). Steve the Manager kept cutting Liam off before he could even TRY to do his Harry voice, so we didn’t get any of that, but we did get a nice solo Liam alarm to wake up to this morning, where he did a meditative bit and reminded people that it’s almost Friday!! And he's added some signed Naughty List single CDs to his store and merch! Really cute hoodies-- I'm not personally sure I want my chest to say Naughty List all over it but Liam can work it and it is a cute design. He also went on a radio show (not Roman’s) to promote Naughty List and revealed that he had NOT done any Christmas shopping yet, which IMMEDIATELY put him on their naughty list. Not to worry Liam, I think you’re still pretty nice!

And my favorite larrie is BACK: we got a sneak peek of Harry’s Jingle Ball set and, surprise, surprise, it’s the pre-recorded set with the Free Nationals! The description is, “Harry Styles and the Free National light up an LA backyard celebration with a hit-stacked set”. So, uh, I guess he’s not going to be playing in front of a blank wall - it’ll be a garden with a camper van, little blue flags, and fairy lights strung up. His shirt matches the small flags in being That Color Blue, and my one and only prediction for the set is that he’ll be covering Blue Christmas. I gotta say that I have NEVER seen anyone as dedicated to that - or ANY color - as Harry is. He still hasn’t popped up anywhere, but this is EXCITING! A new Fine Line set!!

Zayn made Martyre’s Instagram story again, and though you STILL can’t see his face, it’s his neck this time instead of his hands! I think that he’s meant to be modeling the necklace he’s got on, but the picture is too blurry for me to make it out. Alas. Anyways, I’d love to see some pictures of his FACE if Martyre has those? Please? Meanwhile, Niall promoted a beloved Doncaster native musician... no it was Yungblud! On Instagram, of course: he did tell us he wasn't going to be on twitter for a while!

#louis tomlinson #liam payne #harry styles #zayn malik #niall horan #damn EVERYONE did something today huh #well i did some research about the copy of a .. thing so here's the second thing i found #The SECOND thing I turned up was an EP by a small indie rock band named Foxhole Stacks (which is RIGHT up Louis’ alley)#named “Copy of a Copy of a Copy of a Copy” - there were two songs on the EP the first being “Turntable Exiles”#lyrics: (“Where the skinny boys sing their songs the turntable exiles...and they wander and wander and wander around leave them headed for a #different sound”)#and the second is “The Law of Averages” (I’m tired sick and tired of letting it go/The law of every average I know”)#in case you wanted to know #theyre pop punk and DC based and GREAT and if anyone is lurking and wants to hear something AWESOME!#anyways on a seperate note im sending lots of love to liam today #anyways!#song of the day!#Turntable Exiles by Foxhole Stacks

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rosyfingereddawnn · 3 years

Text

That’s The Way

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: none, this is kind of an introductory/fluff chapter if you will :)

Story summary: Y/N Y/L/N, an ordinary seventeen-year-old girl, gets pulled into the world of rock and roll on a fateful night at the Marquee Club in London when she experiences the musical phenomenon of the Five Live Yardbirds. She grows up fast, navigating her way through the downfall of The Yardbirds, the legendary skyrocket of Led Zeppelin, era-defining decadence instigated by the ‘60s and ‘70s mindset of free love and personal gratification, and finding the courage to express how she fell deeply in love with one of modern music’s greatest guitarists.

Author’s notes (from Molly of rebel-without-a-zeppelin): Hi everyone! A little disclaimer on my part: this is the first story I’ve ever shared for public consumption. I’ve been toying with this idea in my mind for a very long time now, and I’ve finally mustered up the courage to share it with you all. I hope you like it. I am incredibly honored to collaborate with Syd on this project; this is truly our baby, as it has a very long, detailed, intricate plot, so saddle up for lots (and lots) of drama! This is also a sloooowwwww burn, like really, really slow lol. Over the course of the story, please feel free to send me your theories and comments; I would absolutely love to read them. Please enjoy, and happy reading!

---------

3 May 1965

The sound of a car horn beeped incessantly from the front of Y/N’s house. Dropping her backpack down on her bedroom floor with an annoyed huff, she sprinted down the steps. She never did get enough time to prepare, and it was no different today. With her friend Carolyn in tow, Y/N made a beeline for the front door, the click-clack of her Oxford shoes pounding across the hardwood floor. Y/N’s mum, who nonchalantly strolled out of the laundry room with an armful of freshly washed and folded bath towels, leant against the doorframe.

“Now remember Y/N: no drinking, no drugs, no sex. No going home with strange musician guys, nor are you allowed to go to their hotel,” her mum instructed calmly, knowing she’d receive an eye roll from the girl. Her stern expression at home on her gracefully-aged face, the girls receive the speech they get every time they go out. “You too, C. Even though I’m not your mother, I still worry about your safety.”

Both Y/N’s mum and dad had a very protective instinct over their eldest daughter, just like their other three children. Even at Y/N’s healthy age of seventeen, she longed for the freedom and trust that her older brother had gained at her age.

“Thank you, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Carolyn replied with a little laugh.

“Mum! This is literally the fourth time I’ve been to a Yardbirds gig, and nothing bad has happened,” Y/N huffed. Her mum raised her eyebrows.

Lillian, Y/N’s little sister, walked into the foyer and surprised Y/N with a big, tight hug around her waist. Y/N gasped at the sudden contact, but chuckled when she realized it was her younger sister, and reciprocated the hug.

“I don’t want you getting hurt, Y/N. Boys are icky. And stupid!” Lillian said in a whiny voice, her face muffled by being buried in Y/N’s stomach.

Y/N ruffled her sister’s muss of dirty blonde waves affectionately, rubbing her back to soothe her worries. “I promise, I will come back perfectly fine! I won’t let any boys mess with me, Lil,” Y/N said with a smile, “And when I come back, I’ll tell you everything that happened.”

Lillian gazed up at Y/N with a similar smile, her small teeth shining a bright, pearly white and her chin resting on the taller girl’s stomach. “Okay,” she said, content, before releasing from Y/N with a stuffed animal tucked under her arm.

“Where’s Charlie?” Y/N asked, hoping she could say goodbye to her younger brother before she left.

“I think he’s riding around the neighborhood on his bike with his friends,” Y/N’s mum replied with a shrug. Y/N felt a little disappointed, but she figured she’d talk to him tomorrow at breakfast about her night out.

Thomas, Y/N’s older brother, continued to honk the horn rather obnoxiously, growing quite impatient. It’s a wonder the neighbors weren’t at arms, knocking on their door. He was forced by his parents to be Y/N and Carolyn’s chauffeur to the Marquee Club in London.

“We have to go, or else Tommy will have my head,” Y/N said as she started to open the front door.

“Wait!” her mum said, sloppily placing the towels down on a nearby counter to dash to the door and give Y/N a hug and a kiss on the head goodbye. Finally pulling away her weathered hands flew to Y/N’s shoulders, and gripping them firmly, she continued, “Be good. Love you.”

“I know, I will. Love you too,” Y/N smiled, before dashing down the steps and to the passenger seat of the car. Carolyn was in quick pursuit, following her to the car and taking a seat in the back.

“It’s about time,” Tommy huffed impatiently, tapping his fingertips on the top of the steering wheel as he put the transmission into drive.

“Sorry. Mum was giving me and C a safety brief,” Y/N replied apologetically.

“Why are you two still in school uniforms?” he snorted, shifting to look over at the girls; their studious appearance of white oxford shirts, sweater vests, plaid kilts, white knee socks, and smart oxford shoes would be quite out of place among the audience at the show.

“No time to change, just like usual,” she replied, turning on the radio, soft melodies pouring out at a low volume.

The three drove in silence, except for the sound of the radio playing, until Carolyn had dozed off on the somewhat lengthy car ride. Occasional small talk between Y/N and her brother permeated the quiet that fell over the group, but it picked up when they were only a few blocks away from the venue.

“You gotta stay safe in there, Y/N,” Tommy said, looking straight ahead. His teeth clamped down sharply on his bottom lip: a dead giveaway to the nerves he must have been feeling.

“I know, Dad,” Y/N joked, punching him lightly across the shoulder. Her bright smile wavered and fell when she saw his grim expression.

“I’m serious, you know. I don’t want my sister being pestered by some wankers in a blues band.”

Y/N smirked at her brother’s sudden defensive behavior. “I can take care of myself. Trust me. This isn’t my first rodeo. You should’ve seen the first Yardbirds gig we went to. Utter chaos...” The tilt of her lips signalled that she was joking, and Tommy huffed out a laugh.

Carolyn, stretching with a grunt, had miraculously woken up just as Tommy pulled up to the front door of the Marquee. Glancing at the venue with awe dancing in their eyes, Y/N and Carolyn disembarked from the car, walking closer with the façade of calmness and competency.

“I’ll be back later to pick you girls up. Have fun, but not too much fun,” Tommy rolled his window down as he said this, winking playfully.

Y/N waved to her brother as Carolyn thanked him graciously for the ride. Arms linked, Y/N and Carolyn entered the famous Marquee. Nervousness and anticipation began to pool Y/N’s stomach as she was greeted by the decadent atmosphere of the club: the smell of smoke, alcohol, and sweat hung in the air as her eyes were flashed by many people mingling about, dressed in typical mod clothing. Y/N and her friend looked at each other, feeling like aliens in their intelligent dress. They tactfully made their way through the crowd as they found their way to their usual spot, a small leather-upholstered booth set against the wall near the stage.

“Today might be the day, Y/N,” Carolyn said as they settled into their seats.

“I don’t know,” she replied, smoothing out her skirt, “the idea of that is both scary and exciting to me at the same time. We’ll just roll with the punches, I guess.”

“Which Yardbird do you have your eye on?”

Y/N smirked as she thought for a moment. “Hmm...I’m not sure. I guess they’re all pretty cute in their own way. What about you?”

“Yes, I agree. But I must admit, I do have a very soft spot for Chris Dreja.”

“I’ll pray for ya, C,” Y/N chuckled.

~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, backstage, five live Yardbirds were performing some pre-show rituals in the hopes of easing the preliminary anxiousness. Jeff, Keith, and Jim were peeking out the little sliver of curtain that allowed them to see their gathering audience.

“Look! It’s those two schoolgirls again!” Jeff pointed to the two teenage girls in school uniforms, chatting in their booth waiting for the show to begin. They were huddled together in conversation, legs daintily crossed as their faint giggles floated over to them. Jim couldn’t help but smile at the sound, though he recovered quickly, not wanting his bandmates to get any ideas.

“What’s wrong with that? They must like us,” Keith replied.

“I think they’re both really pretty, especially the one with the Y/H/C hair,” Jim pointed out, trying to be as subtle as possible.

“Yeah, maybe we should invite them backstage after the show… have a nice little chat,” Jeff winked at the singer and the drummer cheekily.

After taking a final glance at the two conversing girls, the three returned to the backstage area where Paul and Chris were. Jeff immediately enlisted Giorgio, their manager, to complete the agreed-upon mission. Jeff loosely draped an arm around Giorgio’s shoulder before bestowing the request as politely as possible. Not trying to be suspiciously polite, of course, because everyone in the band and its entourage were firsthand witnesses of Jeff’s temper and stubbornness. Yikes.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to do me a favor,” Jeff said to Giorgio with a mischievous smile.

Giorgio rolled his eyes, knowing this “favor” would have to do with scouting girls from the audience. “What d’ya need, Jeff?” he sighed exhaustedly.

“Don’t complain, please,” Jeff deadpanned. “There are two pretty birds in the audience, wearing their school uniforms. They’ve been coming to our shows for a little bit now, and they seem nice—”

“You want me to bring them backstage after the show?” Giorgio interrupted, somehow telepathically knowing, by routine, what the guitarist’s request would be.

“You finish that sentence like you know what I’m about to say.”

“That’s because I do, Mr. Beck,” Giorgio retorted sarcastically, “this happens a lot more often than you think it does.”

“Whatever,” Jeff grumbled moodily, knowing he was right, before walking back to the group of musicians in preparation.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N and Carolyn continued to gossip happily about what was happening at school, not a care in the world. They felt the stares of older men in the club, who silently disapproved of their knee socks being scrunched by their ankles, because that wasn’t the “proper” thing to do. But they didn’t care. Who are they to judge?

Every teacher scolded girls at school who did the same thing, because they didn’t want their long legs to be “tempting” or “distracting” any boys. A bloody nuisance, is what it is.

The girls were snapped from their thoughts by the sound of a heavy guitar tone being blasted through the speakers in an opening riff. Their eyes were stapled, almost transfixed to the stage as they took in the five sharply-dressed men in front of them, singing their songs and playing their instruments.

As much as Carolyn enjoyed The Yardbirds and music in general, Y/N had a rather deep connection to it, odd enough as it was. She could play the piano fairly well, so she understood where these musicians were coming from cognitively and creatively. From what she’d read in magazines about current popular musicians, like The Yardbirds for example, she liked the same music they did. Y/N understood dynamics, tempo, tone, key, and musical notation, just like they did. Perhaps she’d be able to get into an intelligent musical conversation with at least one of them one day.

Two straight hours of hits, obscure songs, and blues covers from The Yardbirds’ catalogue were played for the Marquee Club patrons, hypnotizing its drunk and high onlookers with polished musicality and instrumentation.

As the final song concluded, both Y/N and Carolyn, unbeknownst to the other, felt a sinking feeling of disappointment that fell like a pit in their stomachs. They wouldn’t have the chance to meet the band. No one from the entity had approached them yet, and momentarily the five live Yardbirds would be exiting the stage for the night.

After they said their goodbyes and thanks to the crowd, they disappeared behind the curtain. The main lights of the club brightened to signal that the show was over, as the voices of all the patrons raised in rave of the spectacular show they had just witnessed.

Discouraged, but still in light spirits at what they had just seen, Y/N and Carolyn stood up from their seat and headed for the front door. Y/N expected her brother to be waiting in front; it was late, so might as well not make him wait longer than he needs to.

Y/N and Carolyn were merely a few feet from the door when Y/N felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Turning around to see a man with a dark beard already baring a jovial tight-lipped grin at her, the girl was quite surprised, maybe a little weirded out, but she reciprocated the gesture as genuinely as she could.

“Hello sir, what can we do for you?” Y/N greeted, discreetly nudging Carolyn to help her out and become a united front with her in front of this stranger.

“Good evening ladies, I was sent by Mr. Jeff Beck to offer you an invitation backstage to hang out with the band.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped and her face broke out into an obvious mad blush, much to her dismay. She was internally screaming. The Jeff Beck had spotted them in the crowd?! This had to be a dream. Wait, this could be a complete drunken buffoon trying to trick them. Y/N remembered what her mother had said, and took the proper precautionary measure.

Y/N smiled in the most composed way she could. “Thank you for such a gracious invitation! Could I ask your name, if you don’t mind?”

“Giorgio Gomelsky, manager of The Yardbirds,” he replied, in a seemingly proud manner.

Okay, this was real. Y/N knew that Giorgio was definitely the manager’s name. She turned to Carolyn, who looked just as excited as she was.

“What are your names, dears?” Giorgio asked, pulling them out of their daze of what seemed like a fake reality.

“I’m Carolyn, and this is my friend Y/N,” Carolyn piped up, excited that she finally got an opportunity to speak to someone close to The Yardbirds.

She internally agreed to let Y/N handle the “diplomacy” part of the introduction, knowing that she was best at that. Carolyn knew her friend was quite shy, so she knew to step in when Y/N was starting to feel anxious. She noticed Y/N starting to fiddle with her fingers while talking to Giorgio in the most collected way she could muster; as excited as Y/N was, Carolyn knew she was growing very nervous.

“Well, it is certainly lovely to meet you both. So, what do you say? Would you like to meet the lads?”

After one final glance of excited mutual agreement, Carolyn replied, “Yes, we’d love to.”

Giorgio led the pair of girls back the way they came, through a sea of inebriated people, but this time through the backstage door. Y/N made an appoint to walk behind Carolyn, in an attempt to collect and relax herself. She was starting to sweat a little, her stomach doing flips and her hands becoming cold and clammy.

~~~~~~~~

“Our guests should be arriving any minute now,” Jeff said as he was placing his guitar back in its case.

Chris was standing and chatting with Paul in a corner when he turned around in surprise at the news. “Guests? What guests?”

“We had Giorgio invite two girls from the audience to come back here,” Jim replied, walking over to sit down in a metal folding chair.

“And why weren't we made aware of this?” Paul asked, as he walked to get another metal folding chair to place near Jim.

“It was their idea,” Keith replied, pointing two fingers between Jeff and Jim. Paul and Chris just nodded in recognition.

“I didn’t hear you disagree, Relf,” Jeff clapped back. He then told Chris and Keith to get some chairs for themselves and the two girls that would be walking through the door at any second.

Before Keith could respond, a couple knocks resounded in the room, signalling the arrival of the guests. Jacket lapels and ties were quickly straightened, even though each person was still glazed with quickly-drying sweat from the show they had just played, before the room fell unnaturally quiet as Giorgio opened the rather squeaky door.

The initial tension in the room that lasted a split second could be cut with a knife. Y/N felt her heart pounding in her chest, a cold sweat already running down her back, as five pairs of eyes landed on her, Carolyn, and Giorgio, warm smiles following suit.

She felt like internally combusting.

“Boys, this is Y/N,” Giorgio broke the momentary silence by introducing her, “and Carolyn.” Y/N smiled shyly and sent them a little wave, a dusty shade of pink seeping its way to her cheeks. Carolyn’s greeting was much more exuberant than Y/N’s, as she took the initiative to go over and shake all of their hands amiably. Y/N realized she had to follow her friend in order to make a good first impression.

Knowing that the boys wanted to spend time with the girls without being chaperoned, Giorgio left the room to attend to other business affairs.

Upon first glance, Y/N was the most beautiful girl that four of the five Yardbirds had ever seen. Perfect features, long legs, a calm, gentle, sweet demeanor… Just an absolutely angelic young woman; a vision.

Jeff had obviously recognized her beauty, from seeing her at multiple shows, but he thought she was way out of his league. He decided to focus on getting her to laugh and relax around them, because he noticed just how nervous she looked. She was turning pale right in front of his very eyes! Paul and Chris began to internally question themselves, how have I not seen this girl before? She is so gorgeous! Jim had been glancing at her sporadically throughout the show, soaking up her faraway presence. He noticed how her eyes glistened in childlike wonder as she watched them do what they did best: perform the Chicago blues.

“Well, it is very nice to meet you both,” Keith replied enthusiastically. “I’m Keith,” he alluded to himself, then pointing to the other members of the group while giving their names, “and this is Chris, Paul, Jeff, and Jim.”

“I mean, we know who you guys are, but it’s so lovely to finally meet you,” Carolyn replied. Y/N nodded in agreement.

“Come and sit down! Make yourselves comfortable. We don’t bite,” Jeff joked, motioning to the open chairs. The girls smiled and accepted his invitation, Y/N taking a seat between Jeff Beck and Jim McCarty, while Carolyn took a seat between Keith Relf and Chris Dreja. The chairs were arranged in a circular formation, so each person could talk to the other with ease.

“Tell us about yourselves!” Paul initiated, “I think Y/N should go first though, because you haven’t said too much yet,” he laughed at the last part. Y/N giggled (a little too idiotically for her own liking), but she felt herself become starstruck at how her name sounded coming from one of their voices.

Y/N clenched her cold, clammy hands in her lap as a method to ease her anxiety before starting with a smile. “Well, I’m from Saint Albans. This is our fourth time, I believe, coming to see a Yardbirds gig. Carolyn and I came to see you with Eric Clapton once, and then this is the third time with Jeff.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic! I guess I see where your favor lies in terms of guitarists,” Jeff responded playfully.

“I guess you’re right,” Y/N laughed, “I will admit that I love what you’ve done with the body of work. Clapton was a blues purist, which I respect, and he’s great, but I think your playing is much more interesting and unorthodox.”

Paul, Jim, and Jeff all raised their eyebrows at Y/N’s comment. They were impressed with how she understood their musicality.

“Are you a musician?” Jim asked Y/N.

“Not in your sense of the word,” Y/N chuckled, “But I’ve been playing the piano for most of my life, so I understand music. Probably more than your average female audience member,” she added with a grin.

“That’s so cool! Are you classically trained, or is it just a hobby?”

“Classically trained,” Y/N admitted to Jim shyly.

“Oh wow, so you’re the real deal,” Jeff added.

“I’m not a professional, so I’d say no,” Y/N laughed.

“You probably know more about music than all five of us combined!” Paul said.

“Well, I know that you know much more about the blues than me!” Y/N answered playfully.

“Okay, I’ll give you that,” Paul smiled at Y/N. She cursed herself in her mind for feeling weak at Paul’s simple sentiment, but tried to keep her composure as best she could.

The four of them, especially Jeff and Y/N, began to bond over their love for different musicians. Y/N expressed her love for Chet Atkins and his fingerpicking style, Scotty Moore’s lively soloing style, and Robert Johnson’s slide technique and open tunings, rendering the three men shocked at her knowledge on the subject. Y/N loved how easily Jeff could make her laugh, and how interested Paul and Jim were at whatever she had to say, significant or insignificant. Chris Dreja, who was in a little group with Keith and Carolyn, occasionally spaced out of his conversation to hear what Y/N had to say.

They bonded for about an hour and a half about everything and nothing, until Y/N abruptly realized that Tommy was probably waiting for a while outside for her and her friend. She apologized to the band profusely for such a sudden departure as she and Carolyn walked towards the door.

“Say you’ll come visit us again after the show?” Jeff called to Y/N as she turned towards him in the doorframe.

“Absolutely,” she smiled brightly.

---------

Thanks so much, hope you enjoy!!

Taglist: @y0uth--anasia @reincarnated70sbaby

#jimmy page #led zeppelin #that’s the way #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page x reader #led zeppelin fanfic #classic rock fanfic

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aggressive-positivity-network · 3 years

Note

Hello! I was wondering if I could get some childhood headcanons for the mercs, thank you!

I’m taking a break from the longer headcanons - I’m finishing all my existing requests before opening up my headcanons back up - so I’ll do this one to get the gears turning. There are two here, but I will do more if prompted:

TF2 Merc Childhood Headcanons

Spy:

Spy was a shy child. Painfully shy.

His family was poor, so he had to steal most necessities. By the time he was twelve, he could hop or climb over most fences and hide in most buildings.

The entire reason he became a spy was seeing poorly translated VHS tapes of American espionage films. Spy was frustrated that he never looked the part - he had no suit, no cigarette, no girls.

But, not to worry, he would get all of those things when he went to Britain for schooling.

As a child, though, all he could do was pretend.

He had a “gun” made out of sticks and rope, mimed having a tie, hat, and overcoat, and drew a few shaky feminine features onto a pillow (whom he dubbed Mademoiselle Coussin).

This change in play actually helped him socially: whenever he felt nervous, he would just pretend he was a spy instead of a petite, messy-haired boy with freckles. This caused his popularity among the street boys to spike, and they were soon at his beck and call.

However, despite his fulfilling life as a street rat, he turned back into that timid mouse of a boy whenever he was home. He never dared use his charm on his parents. He already caught a flogging when he tried slicking his hair back.

This led to an odd, one-sided relationship with life where he put on two different masks for two different places, but could only be his true self when he was alone.

He learned to stifle and release emotions at will (keeping himself from crying when he was hit and then letting the tears flow when he was fooling unsuspecting tourists), and was cynical about any relationship that didn’t benefit him immediately or at all.

Except for one.

Every Christmas, a specific fruit vendor, an elderly man named Lucas, came to town. He would give one piece of fruit, usually an apple or peach, to every child that came to his stand. They never had to pay - they only had to say Merry Christmas.

Spy only hung around the stand for the first few years - his house was so far away that by the time he got there, most of the fruit was gone - but one Christmas, Lucas beckoned him over.

The vendor reached beneath his cart and pulled out a single orange, which happened to be Spy’s favorite.

“Joyeux Noël.”

“J-joyeux Noël, monsieur.”

Lucas held out the orange, which Spy accepted gratefully and held in two tight hands.

“Merci beaucoup, monsieur! Merci, merci!”

Lucas only smiled and waved his hand.

This became a tradition for many more years.

Spy would come to the cart, wish Lucas a warm holiday, and would receive an orange that had been saved for him.

But, one Christmas, Lucas didn’t come. Nor the next one. Or the one after that.

Even though Spy knew he was never going to get an orange from that cart again, he still went to that street every Christmas until he left France.

Now, whenever Spy receives an orange, either as a mandated vitamin supplement or if he happens to steal one from a witness’s house, he puts it in his suit, only eating it in his smoke room.

And if he is feeling particularly nostalgic, he’ll, just like he did when he was a child, eat the peel.

Heavy:

Heavy had a wonderful childhood compared to most of mercs.

His father was only vaguely present - and later absent - but his mother was a huge force in his life.

Though Heavy was never bullied exactly, since he was big even as a child, he was ostracized for his size and general clumsiness.

He often broke things, hurt other kids and even staff, and put holes in the wall simply because he was a pre-schooler in an elementary schooler sized body.

But, no matter how many calls she got from the school, Heavy’s mom knew that he wasn’t violent - all she asked was for him to try and fix what he had broken and apologize to the people he had hurt.

“My child, a bear may be big, but they are strong and beautiful. So are you.”

One day, after a particularly rough week of shattered vases and bruised classmates, Heavy ran from school into a random building, blinded by tears and shame. He ended up ticketless in a large theater, but he was only a child, so no one noticed. They assumed he was just someone’s kid.

He ended up on the roof, breathless and gasping between sobs.

Suddenly, he heard an orchestra beginning to play. He looked through a glass pane built into the roof and gazed at the stage below.

He saw one petite ballerina making her way across the stage, doing a few twirls as she went. Then, a much bigger man, who was almost as big as Heavy’s father was, came from stage right and joined in the dance.

Throughout their performance, Heavy kept wincing, expecting the enormous man to crush the small woman. But he never did. The performer moved with grace and a quickness that the boy didn’t expect.

Something awakened in him - a realization that he too could be nimble, despite his size. As the performance ended, Heavy went back down the stairs, his confidence renewed.

He became fascinated with ballet, and watched tapes of shows over and over again until he knew all the steps by heart. At first, he only moved his feet so his arms wouldn’t break anything. Then, as he grew more controlled, he learned how to dance and step around things.

His mother got less calls home, more and more kids began to trust and like him.

He still wasn’t popular by any means, but at least he could play soccer without breaking someone’s arm.

With that success came interests in all things quick, dainty, and detailed. Heavy learned how to knit, paint, and play a bit of piano. He was never very skilled at any of them except for knitting, he enjoyed practicing his coordination and mitigating his clumsiness.

But, one day, Heavy made the mistake of bringing his knitting to school. It was around Christmas, and he had to finish his sister’s sweater so he could wrap it.

The boys, who now knew that Heavy wouldn’t hurt a fly, started teasing him mercilessly, calling him a sow (female pig), a bitch, an old crone, and all sorts of other nasty names.

Heavy, with growing frustration, said something along the lines of, “Will it be your dead mother, then, who will mend your shirt when you are old? Or will you willingly catch your death?”

What Heavy didn’t know was that one particular child’s mother died a few months ago.

The boy went into a rage, giving Heavy a black eye and a bleeding nose before he finally took him by the underarms and held him away from him like a rabid chihuahua. Finally, the boy tired himself out. The other kids had since run away, not wanting to get in trouble or get beat up by Heavy.

The bully, after finding that he was helpless to the situation, began to cry, letting out all the emotions he had been shoving down in order to save face in front of his abusive father.

Heavy went straight into protective mode, having dealt with his younger sisters and their own grievances. After the bully calmed down a bit, he admitted his feelings, and how awful his circumstances were.

Heavy didn’t say anything much, but just handed him a pair of knitting needles and a ball of yarn. The boy learned to knit that day, and after Christmas, many other abused boys came seeking the same kind of closure and validation.

He made many friends this way, and it pretty much eradicated his bullying problem - so much so that he was pretty much untouchable to anyone looking to make trouble.

Though violence is how Heavy makes his money now, the merc learned from the very beginning that the best way through life is a gentle touch.

#tf2 #tf2 fandom #tf2 headcanons #tf2 headcanon #tf2 spy #tf2 heavy #tf2 mercs #ask blog #send asks #send anons #humor #funny post #just for laughs #funny content #funny

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harry-writer16 · 4 years

Text

Watermelon Sugar High

Type: imagine

Warning: Daddy kink, smut, oral sex, and just a rough fuck in general

A/N I really hope you guys enjoy this, Please like and reblog. Thank you so much for those of you who support me and my writing. THANK YOU SO MUCH

Y/N

“All right everyone, get in position!” Pablo one of the directors told us models

Tasha, Lia and I start walking towards the ocean to get ready for the scene. I met them this morning while we were getting ready, and The three of us just got really close in that short period of time.

“So are you guys excited to part of the video?” Ask Lia

“Eh, money is money and you do what you have to do to get it” I answer

“You sound like old whore lady” Tasha told me

The three of burst in a fit of laughter

“Not but seriously, have you seen how Harry has been gawking at you practically the whole time we’ve been here?!” Lia said

I stopped laughing, and rolled my eyes at her comment. Seriously like why would he ever, there is better girls out there to gawk at

“No there is-“ I’m not able to finish my sentence because Tasha interrupts me

“Girl stop, he has and you and I know it” she said and lia just nodded

“You know I shipped your baby’s would be fucking cute”

“She’s right Y/N , your baby’s would be adorable, with his curls and your tanned ski girl I’m death” Tasha added

“Shut up” was the only thing I said, as if they couldn’t get more annoying they started signing

“Y/N and Harry sitting on a tree, F-U-C-K-I-N-G!” Lia and Tasha were singing, awful signing may I add

But before they could continue their awful performance, I had to stopped them because at the corner of my eyes I spotted grinning Harry dressed in a floral bottom up with yellow shorts walking towards us

“Shut up you morons Harry walking towards us” I told them they stop signing and quickly came to stand beside

“Bet your fucking tonight” Tasha whisper in my ear, I blushed hard and a lot

I just gave her a death stare and right when I was gonna open my mouth to bite back a thick British voice interrupted me

Damn why isn’t anybody letting me talk today!

“Hello lady’s” Harry said

“Hi” the three of us said

Harry was about to speak but Tasha beats him do it

“Actually Lia and I have to go-um -watch the water” she said

Tasha pull Lia with her and started walking forward somewhere, she turn her head when she far enough from Harry and mouth me a “Tell me everything”

I only shake my head and turn my attention back to Harry

“so..” I said

“so..” he said

“what do I own the pleasure Mr.Styles?” I ask him

“Please, call me Harry, and I just wanted to tell you that smiles of yours drives me crazy”

“what?” I ask him confused

“I said that smiles of yours drives me crazy” He repeat again

“Thanks..” I said shyly, is he trying to flirt with me?..

He smiled back at me

“so are you excited for the video?” I ask him, I’m trying to keep this conversation as light and professional as possible

“Very, specially if a beauty like you will be in it” He said with a bit of smirk

I just blushed really hard, before I can speak he said

“Your blushing makes you look extra cute and hot”

My cheeks couldn’t help it and blushed once more, only this time I try to cover it but couldn’t. While I was embarrassed, all Harry did was laugh. Not a mean laugh but a kind laugh.

“Please stop saying those things, it’s very unprofessional” I said in shy tone voice

“Well, in my defense I’m not flirting, I’m just being extra friendly to my extra attractive friend” he said, giving me a flirty smirk at the end

We both laugh a little bit,

“Oh so I’m your friend now?” I said with a bit more confidence

“ Course you are, in fact a beauty like you should be cherish by everyone”

“god you and your compliments” I said shaking my head with a smile

“Well darling I shall get going but remember I’m wearing the smile you gave me” he said

afterwards he lean in and gave me a peck on my cheek near the corner of lips. then he whisper in my ear “Thank you for reminding me what butterflies feel like”

After that he just walk away towards the directors, I was just standing there in pure shock. I could not believe what just happened.

~~~~~~~~

Later on the same day

Y/N POV

We just finish wrapping up the first day of shooting, people are currently either packing everything up or heading to the hotel. We are all pretty exhausted, running around in the sand o a hot day takes a lot out of you. Instead of doing what everyone else is doing I decided to take a little get away and just enjoy the beach around.

I was sitting on the sand, my toes getting wet by the ocean water , eyes closed and enjoying the gently breeze. I was so calm and relax, I hadn’t realize I haven’t felt this way in so long. I was in my own world enjoying myself.

“Mind if I join?” Harry ask, scaring the pure shit out my soul

“Fucking hell, you scare the living daylights out of me” I told him

He laugh and sat down next to me.

Once he is seated next to me he says “Sorry for scaring ya”

“it’s okay” I assure him

We sit in silent for a moment, before I speak

“It’s beautiful isn’t it” I said, referring to the view

“Yeah you are” He said

I just look at him then back at the view. All the can be heard are the waves crashing, I’m calm and enjoying this. But not too long into that moment I feel a hand on my thigh.

Harry’s

I move mines on top of his, he moves a little closer to me and his hand a little higher on my thigh. My breath speeds up a little bit, I turn so now I’m facing him and he is facing me. He moves his face just a little bit closer to mine, just close enough so that the tip our noses are touching. We might not be in a room but I can guarantee you the temperature is rising.

“Y/N can I borrow a kiss?” He ask

“Are you gonna give it back?”

he mutter something I coudn’t understand, next thing you know his lips are on top of mine, he is kissing me and without a doubt I’m kissing him back. The kiss grows more intense and passionate.

He picks me up from the sand so I’m straddling his lab, he pulls me into him, make me seat right on top of his growing member. His tongue ask for entrance and I gladly allow. At first our tongues are figthing for dominance, but it slowly turns to a passionate dance where our tongues are just dancing. He is holding tight by my waist, the more we make out the more wet I get, the more hard Harry gets. He pulls back breathless and with a little of our saliva on his lips.

“Let’s go back to my room” he says licking his lips and I swear in the moment the wetness of my pussy when right through my panties.

To his statement I only my head

We get up from our spot and make our way to the car who was driving us to where Harry is currently staying.

~~~~~~~~

The whole car ride here was INTENSE. Harry was touching me then I was touching him, we were kissing, his tongue was exploring my mouth while mines was trying to do the same with him.

Once we arrived to his room, I’m immediately pushed to the wall by Harry, he comes closer and sensually whispers “I’m gonna fuck you so hard, I’ll make you feel it for days” he starts to kiss right below my ear , while I rapped my hands around his neck. we then start to kiss and he takes a hold of thighs from underneath. He carries me to the where he seats down with me on his lap. He goes to untied my bikini top, but I stop him.

“let’s take care of you first” I say in my most sensual voice

I start to unbutton his shirt, when I’m done unbuttoning his shirt, I take it off and throw it somewhere in the bedroom.I start to kiss around his neck while doing so I discover his sweet spot which makes him moan loud when I suck a hickey on it. Once I’m done with that hickey I give it a kitty lick and blow air on it. I go to kiss and leave more hickey’s on others spots of his neck, and chest area. I start to get on my knees and kiss lower and give him kitty licks. He releases a low “fuck” when sees I’m getting closer to the waistband of his shorts.

I stop what I’m doing to remove his shorts and his underwear at the same time. I see his big, thick, long hard cock come out, bits of pre-cum on the tip. I’m honestly kinda mesmerized by his cock, its really pretty. “it’s so pretty h” I tell him “t-th-anks” he says. I smile, cute. I take his cock in my hand and slowly start to stroking him up and down. He moans at my action, god his moans make me even wetter. With my other hand I play with his balls for a bit. “I-I li-ike w-wh-at you’-re doi-ng” he says “you like this, then your not ready for what comes next” I told him.

I take the hand that I was stroking his cock with and spit on it, i start to stroke him again. I’m so focus on what I’m doing I don’t even realize his moans are getting louder. I take the tip of his cock into my mouth but only like 1/3 of it, to tease him. I do that a couple of times, but I stop when he says “Fuck, stop being a fucking tease and suck on it already” with a dominance tone of voice “ok” I responded “ok what?” he ask “k, daddy” Shit, I look up at him, embarrassment written all over my face, “I’m sorry I-” I’m cut off by him “say it again” he told me to “Daddy” I said “that’s right be a good girl and suck on daddy’s cock” Which is exactly what I do.

I start to take him into my mouth, since he is gigantic I was only able to take maybe a little bit over half of it. the rest I did with my hand. Once he is in my mouth I take sometime to adjust to his size but soon enough I start to bob my head up and down his cock. At the same time doing this I run my tongue up and down plus giving him the most innocent look I can while having his cock in my mouth. “Uh- Fu-ck Yes!, K-ee-p go-in-g don’t Fuck! Stop!” He moans after that, and keeps moaning, each one louder than the last one. I’m pretty sure peple next door can hear us. I feel his hand slide through my hair, as in moving out of my face.

I keep sucking on his cock, harder this time. I also play with his balls to show them some loving, so they don’t feel left out. Harry seems to be on cloud nine, the way some of his baby hair stick to his sweaty forehead, how his eyes roll back and god his moans are like music to my ears. The way his chest is sweaty, how his hand hold onto the sheets of the bed, this is a sight to never be forgotten. While I’m still sucking, I can feel his cock twitch and that’s when I know he is close. I pull back from his cock, a string of saliva and cum following, “you gonna cum daddy? Please cum for me, want your cum daddy I’ve been a good girl for you” I said and go back to sucking after “Yes b-ba-by gir-l, su-ch Fuck! a good girl for your d-daddy” he says with moans in between “Yes! Yes! I’m cumming! F-uck go-gonna cum” and he does, he cums, I feel his cock twitch in my mouth before a warm liquid shoots out and down my throat. Harry lets out several moans in the process. after coming he falls on the bed, sweating and out of breath. I take his cock out my mouth, string of saliva following, I wipe the at the corner of my mouth with my the back of my hand and lick it. I go up to see and he looks fuck out.

“Hi daddy” I say, he is still trying to catch his breath, but when he does, he gets up enough to attached our lips together again. He hovers over me, still kissing me. I’m now laying on my back on the bed, his hands roaming my body. He his hands go behind my back to untied my bikini top, once he does he pulls it over my head and throws it somewhere on the the floor. He starts to kiss my neck. Soon enough he fines my sweet spot and starts to sucks a hickey “Fuck, daddy” I moan. His hand goes down to outline the waistband of my shorts.

He starts to kiss the between my breast, then starts to kiss and lick the top of my the top of my left breast. Goes to the middle of my breast and starts to lick down until he gets to my nipple. Once there he raps his whole mouth around and starts to suck on it roughly, as if milk would come out it. His tongue his swirling around it as well.”Fu-ck Da-ddy!”, after couple more seconds he stops sucking on my left boob ad goes to do the same to the other. He also suck hickeys on both of my boobs.

When he is done with my breast, he starts to kiss down my body and when gets to my shorts he rips them off me. He looks at my my clothes pussy, and licks his lips. “You’re really wet love, wonder who did this do you huh? This all for daddy?” He licks my pussy over my underwear, I only moan, to the I feel a harsh slap on my thigh, I moan again but this time louder. “that’s not a fucking answer, tell me who made you this wet or I won’t let you cum tonight” He is asking with a dominance tone of voice. “You did daddy, its all for you” I told him.

He rip my panties off after that, and spread my legs wide. with one finger he when rub up and down between my pussy lips. after doing so a couple times, he came and said “suck on it” and that’s exactly what I did, I suck on his fingers. “that’s right, be a good girl and get nice and wet fo’ me to use on your pretty cunt” he said and I moan on his fingers. He when back down between my legs and with two fingers I felt him spread my pussy lips and with the one I suck on he started to finger me while with his tongue he lick around my clit teasing it. not too long after he added another finger. His thrust with his fingers when faster, sloppier, and you could hear a slapping sound every time he when in and out my cunt. I was moaning like crazy, everything he was doing felt so good, almost too good to be true. Out of the fucking he started to suck harshly on my swollen clit, I could feel the his tongue play with it, you also could hear sucking noises.

Everything was happening so fast, “fuck daddy!”, I moan and kept moaning louder and louder. he was eating me out so good. I had tears at the corner of my eyes, I was about to cum. Daddy seem to notice this because just when I was about to cum he stop everything he was doing to my pussy. He came up from in between my legs to my face and said “You are not coming anywhere else besides daddy’s cock tonight little girl” with his deep british accent.

He then spread my legs out even more, he position himself at my entrance and with the tip of his dick he tease my pussy by going in between my pussy lips and around my entrance. He when to pin my arms down on the bed above my head. “C-condom daddy” I reminded him, what he said shock me “ Daddy’s fucking you raw tonight” He said “what if I get pregnant daddy?” I ask him “guess your having daddy’s baby and its no one business” I didn’t have time to answer before he kiss me.

Without any sort of warning he slam his big thick cock in my cunt. I moan against his mouth at the feeling of being full. His thrust were rough, and hard. His hips were going circular motions. The bed start to shake, harry move his hands from mind and took a hold of the headboard. H started going faster, and faster. But I want it more. “is t-hat oh all you got” I challenge him, “you want more huh” he said and suddenly his pulling out of me and flipping me on to my stomach. My face against the pillow, he lifted my butt in the air and when back in again. He was holding my waist with his hand while thrusting roughly in and out me. I let out a scream of pleasure and so does he. Every time he pushes in, I push back which he seems to like a lot. We are both a moaning mess, I’m either moaning or calling him daddy. He is constantly telling me, I’m his good girl and how tight I am. he is also choking me, not enough to stop my breathing but just to make it pleasurable. The headboard is hitting the wall and the bed is shaking.

He keeps fucking me, harder and a lot more rough than he started and that’s when I feel myself coming. “I’m- da-ddy- Fuck! *moan* Cum!” I manage to say, “you wanna cum don’t you? fucking cum for daddy” he orders me and I do I cum long and hard. “fuck I’m cumming too princess, gonna give you my seed” he cums too, only thing leaving our mouth are moans of pleasure. Once he is done cumming, he pulls out and falls on the bed next to me. We are both trying to catch our breath, fuck my lower body is too sore, I can’t even feel my legs, much more less my pussy.

I feel harry pull me towards him, I cuddle into him once I’m close enough. “go to sleep little girl, I know you’re tired” He says, petting my hair. “k, daddy” Is the only things I say before falling asleep on his chest.

~~~~~~~

Next Day

Y/N POV

After last night harry hasn’t left my side at all today, everyone is looking at us. I still can’t walk properly but I’m trying . Harry said he is taking me out on date which should be excited. Anyways we are currently seated at one the chairs in the hotels lobby. One thing is that everyone has been giving us teasing smiles, and has made a lot of sex reference comments towards us.

OMG what if they all heard us last night!

I go pale at the thought

“Y/N are you okay?” Harry ask

I was about to answer but I was interrupted by two very familiar voices

“so are you pregnant yet?” Lia ask

“We heart noises last night” Tasha said wiggling her eyebrows

“yeah *makes moaning noise*” Lia demonstrated

I blushed and told them “I- shut up you two”

“that’s what we should’ve told you guys last night, right guys?” Said Tasha

Everyone else around us just nodded and agree with Tasha

Harry turn pink and look away, I was just seated embarrassed that they heard us last night

Oh god what have I done...

********

I have no words, This was really interesting to write, fun fact I laugh at lot while writing the smut part of this for some weird reason... Anyways Thank you so much for reading

#harry styles masterlist #harry imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles watermelon sugar #harry styles smut #harry styles

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taekooktimeline · 4 years

Text

May 31, 2020 (filmed)

In the Soop, start of ep. 6, is filmed on this date.

Please remember the below is our THEORY. You are free to interpret as you wish.

The episode opens with Tae fidgeting and being visibly anxious.

Jimin is entrusted with the mission to get Jk to Tae and tells Jk there is a leak that requires him to collect his luggage as a ruse to get him to go outside.

As they get closer Tae sits up abruptly. Jk is confused about what is going on. We’ll discuss further below, but for now this indicates while the talk appears to be planned and scripted to an extent, Jk didn’t expect the talk to happen at the time it did, as is evidenced by the boxing wraps he just finished wrapping on his hands. Tae created an elaborate setup for this moment and Jk was authentically surprised.

Jimin and Tae playfully banter as if they’re at a classy restaurant - Jimin being the waiter - which adds certain romance to the scene.

Jin comes by and asks if Taekook are on a date. This increases their shyness which makes Tae say “jungkookshi!” on repeat. We can’t tell if he’s panicking and calling out for him as if saying “Jk, help! this is so awkward” or if he’s teasing Jk, but it actually looks like a mix. It’s awkward because they are being filmed while playing out such a scene.

Jk asks about the occasion and Tae replies that it’s nothing special, though shortly what follows is a conversation reminiscing about their trainee days, as well as Tae’s recent struggles.

Tae starts by saying that Jk’s recent attempt to hang out with him is what prompted him to prepare this intimate talk.

Following the above phrase is when Jk fully realizes what’s going on, letting out a big “ahhhhhh” of understandment. Despite this Tae asks once again “Remember?” to which Jk confirms by repeating “ah, ah, ah”. If there is an acting cue this would be it.

Tae adds a couple short sentences to finish the introduction.

Jk then excitedly says “I see!” using a similar voice to that funny one from the drama “Itaewon Class” as if getting ready to start an interpretation (the one that has the “it’s fun!” line).

Out of nowhere, Jk brings up the topic of them being scolded together even during trainee days, parroting exactly what Tae said in his YT livestream back in late April (which is rare because they barely mentioned each other as of recent times so there aren’t many chances to coincide). You can tell there wasn’t a cut between Tae’s intro and Jk’s topic if you pay attention to Jk getting rid of his wrappings. It seems like Jk isn’t the best at easing into a pre-planned topic and just dropped it abruptly which caused them both to laugh. They start to talk about the past and highlight how they were always close, scolded together and partners in crime. It’s interesting that the conversation unnaturally segwayed from having drinks to trainee days.

Jungkook says that they’ve been busy lately which implies that they no longer have the special bond that was just mentioned. This seems to be the whole objective of this theatrical interpretation: to make the public believe that they drifted apart & are now reconnecting. While it’s true that BTS explained on a recent vlive that they worked for 18 hours a day - which doesn’t leave much time to decompress and have time to yourself, let alone with loved ones - we believe they are trying to sound credible by creating lies out of truths (we are busy = truth; lost the special bond = lie).

Jk tells the camera in a narration that Tae used to be so playful and the easiest to talk to out of all the hyungs, but has become more reserved and not as open as he was in prior years, even to the point of developing certain awkwardness in their relationship. Again, lies based on truths. Tae has grown up and matured but he is still playful in a more calm way. Additionally, since three months prior to filming, Tae was noticeably sad and withdrawn. BTS were even concerned and had written on his festa rolling paper to be happy and reach out to any one of them to discuss when he was ready. Tae finding Jk in the soop to have an on camera discussion was very pivotal for their on camera presentation of their relationship going forward to viewers - making it a safe excuse for the sudden openness & increase of on camera interactions being now viewed as reunited friends - but they surely must have had private talks & we don’t believe there was any type of emotional distancing involved.

Reviewing prior footage shows they’ve always shown indicators of closeness and acted in a questionable manner, as well as what could be considered special attention to each other. We’ve caught onto moments they were instructed to separate - such as the vlive in which staff clearly rang the bell & told Tae to leave the hotel room as if he wasn’t sharing it with Jk on May of 2019 - so this talk is the culmination of the narrative BH tried to fabricate these recent years.

Weverse didn’t pick up the entire translation but Jk actually said “these days” he hadn’t really had a serious talk with Tae. This implies Tae was distant recently, which aligns with the sham but also correlates with Tae’s behavior in the spring. Tae mentioned in KBS and this Soop episode that the pandemic was something he struggled with. We doubt that Jk & Tae didn’t have any deep talks during these difficult times and then chose to broadcast their first ice-breaker so we once again deem it a false statement. We will elaborate more in our final thoughts.

Jk credits Tae for bringing him out of his shell in trainee days. Jk has mentioned this in prior interviews, so it seems to be a really important thing for Jk to continue to acknowledge. Tae appears genuinely surprised about Jk bringing this up - blushing for a second - so it’s apparent that they didn’t have a strict script for the sake of making it feel natural. They would just have planned to make sure to touch some key points to convey the narrative of reconnecting. As a positive side, it looks like it falls inside their plans to highlight how much they click and how much of an impact they’ve had on each other. During Festa, when Tae appeared to be at a low point, Jk referred to Tae as his commonality (which K ARMY proceeded to trend for its general meaning). Keep in mind Festa content was released in June, which would have been just after “In the Soop” was filmed, but it was surely written beforehand along with the rest of Festa’s content (~March). The fact that Jk said he has a lot in common with Tae correlates to what he said in this episode about having many similarities. This whole setup would be a bridge for them to be able to, at least, publicly act like close friends once again - which is a milestone - while giving a platonic explanation as to why there was a lack of on camera interactions. We guess it works if they don’t plan to come out as of now and it makes BH look good.

Tae never wanted Jk to use honorifics, but to treat him as a same age friend. Keep in mind honorifics are very important in a country like Korea. It does seem, based on Tae’s personality, that he’s not as hung up on such specifics. Regardless, the fact that, from the start, Tae insisted on treating Jk as an equal is a big deal when factoring in the culture / customs of their country.

Portion of Interview for the Magazine “Catch The BTS” Vol.1, 2013/11:

It seems like Jk was polite with Tae at the very beginning of their friendship, but after some time they started interacting as same age friends - as they explicitly said - and talked casually. In the below pics they contradict the old evidence by saying that their age difference and use of formal speech put up a wall between them. Jk even says “that’s what I chose back then”, meaning it later changed. It’s an easier way to lie.

They also might have used Festa to push the narrative of age difference being partially responsible for their supposed distancing. It was written that Tae viewed Jk as his “maknae-like dongsaeng” which uses not only one, but two terms to reinforce how young Jk is (“maknae” means youngest of the group, while “dongsaeng” is the complementary word to “hyung”. Jk is the dongsaeng of all his hyungs. It does NOT mean biological brother).

Tae mentions how he draws strength from ARMY and has felt empty lately, yearning to perform again. He didn’t feel as loved since they were not on stage hearing the cheers. This appears to be the main reason Tae struggled. And again, this correlates to Tae struggling in recent times, as the pandemic forced BTS (and the world) to change plans, and there was a lot of anxiety and uncertainty. The fact that this affected him so much suggests he still has self-worth issues and relies on external validation to a considerable degree. In our eyes, this is interlaced with his identity & fear of rejection - at least to an extent - being this a period of changes in TK’s presentation that stirred up various emotions. This theory is also supported by him reading the speech about happiness from the LGBTQ film CMBYN a little over a week after filming this. It seems like this was also a crucial topic to tackle & broadcast in order to continue working on the public’s empathy and dive little by little into the sources of their struggles.

Jungkook shows himself to be a source of strength to Tae, giving him advice and reassuring him he’s handling things well. He tells him that he should take this as an opportunity to work on stuff so that the people he loves can see how much he improved.

They decide to make a toast to those who love them. They do not toast to ARMY, which is the typical choice of words. Could this be specifically to people who support them? Because we know not all ARMY would accept them if they found out.

The scene ends with them smiling brightly at each other before walking away from the tent.

(final photo courtesy of TK_Rainbow insta)

Taekook’s “talk” clip: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Kx0ahPr8dVRQzGNBXEbH9nhkRLkLaVLh/view?usp=drivesdk

Our theory - Personally, we believe this moment was staged to an extent. The execution may have been authentic in that Tae planned a romantic setting, since Jk seemed genuinely surprised and had prepared to work out prior to them meeting. However, it should be taken into consideration that taekook were relatively hidden in on camera, official moments for years. This possibly could be a presentation, agreed upon between TK and BH, to explain their current loudness to viewers who may only be watching official content and looking at things at the surface level. To see TK not as interactive in ON official camera moments, to suddenly see them in the manner we are, required an explanation that wouldn’t out them for the moment while allowing them to showcase their special bond and familiarize people with it. Taekook have always made it clear, in Jk’s words, that their relationship is not for the cameras. To have a 1-1 raw, intimate conversation in official content with cameras around, for a televised show, goes against their prior nature and indicates some sort of pre-planning.

Jk mentioned in “recent days” Taekook had not had a serious talk. Then, on camera, what the viewer is able to view is not very heavy besides their talks about Tae seeking love & support from ARMY. JK’s statement of the lack of recent heart-to-heart talks doesn’t match with what they proceeded to talk about. Although it wouldn’t be the goal if it were to be genuine, the viewer did not learn anything pivotal in the talk, meaning it was just a retake on topics deemed safe for public consumption. On the contrary, they flipped the original - pure - story of them being just like same age friends that were close in debut times, to them being close but never overcoming the weight of the age difference. There are a plethora of deep topics Taekook could have discussed. They weren’t able to fully dive into how Tae has exhibited some sort of playfulness throughout the years, but visibly bottled up and became more reserved only in recent months, just barely scratching the surface. The pandemic clearly is part of why Tae struggled, but not all. They do not discuss the obvious separation or lack of on camera moments during these last few years. These are certainly not topics they can easily and freely touch upon given their current situation, which means the idea of suddenly having a “serious talk” to clear the air between them, on camera, for television, has even less credibility. Keep in mind, in between debut to current times, we have always gotten subtle signs of genuine closeness & even slip-ups that they tried to hide. This confirms that what was aired (not necessarily all they talked about but what the viewer was able to see) didn’t really touch on anything intimate.

Since we believe Taekook are in a romantic relationship and are closeted, this means they cannot be fully transparent in why the recent years have involved cuts and on camera separations. The positive takeaway, though, is it appears that taekook will no longer be heavily hidden, nor separated on camera or official content as a result of prior negotiations, which probably took place back in 2018 as they signed - in advance - their second contract. The plan going forward, to us, is for taekook to be less restricted and to normalize their interactions - now holding increased control & benefits over key points in their career. Whether TK have the legal ability to come out at some point - if ready - within this contract or if this new direction would be the rooftop, that we don’t know. Either way, BH had to explain this long-needed change in on camera moments and appears to have chosen this method. Keep in mind the contract renewal took effect shortly after the Soop was filmed. Soon after Soop, Tae read CMBYN and wrote on Weverse he wants to be happy. It’s interesting how all of this happened in quick succession from one another.

Again, as stated at the start of this section, please remember this is our THEORY. We have done our best to clearly explain why we are thinking in the manner we are. Please remember this topic is controversial, and the reader is entitled to their opinion just as much as we are to ours.

Interestingly, these were the lyrics of the song that played in the background as they talked:

TK trended once the ep was released on Sept. 23rd -

June 1, 2020 - First day of Pride Month. Continuation of Episode 6. Tae wore a Bert and Ernie shirt the next day. This may be a coincidence or it may be him trying to send a message after having a 1-1 with Jk on camera. Please decide as you like.

We don’t want to theorize too much on the ending scene but it’s possible there are clues in it. No other member has ended an episode of “In The Soop” as an individual moment. And the ending shot of Tae has a lot of metaphors as he stands to embrace the sun, and then let’s the canoe take him to its brightness. The implication may be that Tae has found healing in this setting, and this, among other things, has helped him come to peace with his struggles.

#taekook #taekooktimeline #may 2020 #2020 #200531 #separation #sadness #closeness #hints #lgbtq

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insanityclause · 3 years

Link

The last Broadway season ended, unexpectedly, nearly a year ago. The next one will begin who-knows-when.

But deep in this winter of our theaterlessness, a dormant tradition is starting to stir: the Tony Awards.

Hundreds of voters, this week and next, are casting ballots for the best shows, and the best performances, of a theater season abruptly cut short by the coronavirus pandemic.

The jukebox shows “Jagged Little Pill,” “Moulin Rouge! The Musical” and “Tina — The Tina Turner Musical’ are competing for best musical, and hope to resume performances whenever Broadway reopens. All five of the best play contenders have closed. They are “Grand Horizons,” by Bess Wohl; “The Inheritance,” by Matthew López; “Sea Wall/A Life,” by Simon Stephens and Nick Payne; “Slave Play,” by Jeremy O. Harris; and “The Sound Inside,” by Adam Rapp.

In this strangest-of-all Tony competitions, the voting is disconnected from both the period being assessed, which ran from April 26, 2019, to Feb. 19, 2020, and the ceremony for handing out awards, which has not yet been scheduled.

In other words, we won’t know the results until — well, for a long time.

But here’s what we do know:

Who’s going to vote?

Not a lot of people.

There are 778 Tony voters, but they can only cast ballots in categories in which they’ve seen all the nominees. Because the pandemic prevented any spring theatergoing, there are fewer qualified voters than usual.

There are 25 prize categories; the Tonys won’t say how many people will actually be able to vote in each category, but producers believe slightly fewer than 400 people will qualify to cast ballots for best musical, and fewer than that for best play.

What’s missing?

Parties.

The usual Tonys season is all-encompassing. Shows that opened in the fall (and that would have included all three of last season’s nominated musicals) invite voters back to see them again. Monday nights are jammed with nonprofit galas at which nominees mingle with voters, and those who can sing, do. There are press junkets and mixers; display ads in The New York Times and caricatures at Sardi’s; plus, of course, a raft of spring openings to catch up with.

So much hugging. So much schmoozing. So many four-hour dinners. Everyone complains. And now they long for it.

“I can’t believe I miss buffets,” said Eva Price, a lead producer of “Jagged Little Pill.” “So much that we took for granted, and sometimes grimaced at, we would give our left arms for right now.”

Is it appropriate to campaign?

Yes, but very gingerly.

We’re still in the middle of a devastating pandemic and a huge number of people who work in theater are currently unemployed. Also: money is tight because there are no ticket sales.

“The 2020 shows can’t run a campaign in the usual way, and even if we could it would feel icky to try,” said Carmen Pavlovic, the lead producer of “Moulin Rouge!”

“This is not a moment for cocktail parties and gossip,” she added. “It’s just a moment for lifting up artists from darkness, and hoping that lifts everybody else along the way.”

So swag is minimal. “Moulin Rouge!” and “Jagged Little Pill” sent voters coffee table books about their shows, but that’s about it. The main form of campaigning this year is in the form of “For Your Consideration” emails.

The nominated show that is furthest in the rearview mirror — a revival of “Frankie and Johnny in the Clair de Lune,” which closed in July 2019 — sent voters a video montage of interviews including its playwright, Terrence McNally, who died eight months later from complications of the coronavirus.

Nominees are sitting for profiles with theater trade publications. And last week, “Tina,” “Jagged Little Pill,” “The Inheritance,” “Slave Play” and “Betrayal” bought daily sponsorships of Broadway Briefing, an emailed industry newsletter whose subscribers include many Tony voters.

And there are other, newfangled ways to refresh voters’ memories. “Betrayal” on Sunday held a cast reunion on Instagram Live; “The Sound Inside” sent voters videotaped selections from the production; “Jagged Little Pill” released a video reflecting on the year and is re-airing a concert version of its show. “Moulin Rouge!” and “The Inheritance” built voter web pages with performance clips, interviews, scripts and more.

The message needs to be focused, producers say. “We have to be very mindful and respectful of what people’s experiences are right now,” said Tali Pelman, the lead producer of “Tina.” At the same time, she said, “Honoring our talent and their contribution is important. More than ever, we have to shout out about their exceptional value in society.”

What happens when the votes are tallied?

An accounting firm sits on the results.

The voting period runs through March 15, with votes cast electronically via a password-protected website, and tabulated by Deloitte & Touche LLP. Even in pre-pandemic years, results are not shared with the leaders of the organizations that present the awards — the Broadway League and the American Theater Wing — or anyone else before they are announced.

This year they will just be kept secret for longer than usual.

Can you lose if you’re the only nominee?

Theoretically, yes.

Aaron Tveit of “Moulin Rouge!” is the only person nominated as best actor in a musical. This is an unusual circumstance, for which the Tonys have imposed an unusual rule: to win, Tveit must get a positive vote from 60 percent of those who cast ballots. But, to be clear, he’s likely to pick up his first statuette this year.

There are a couple of other nomination quirks, too. There will be no prize for best musical revival, because the only one that managed to open, “West Side Story,” did so after the retroactively imposed eligibility date. And the contenders for best score were all from plays.

So when will we know the winners?

Stay tuned.

It seems clear that the ceremony will only take place after live performance is allowed to resume in New York and tickets to Broadway shows have gone on sale.

That’s because the industry’s priority will be to use the ceremony to remind potential audiences that Broadway is back. The goal, said Heather A. Hitchens, the Wing’s president and chief executive, “is to be most helpful to the industry.”

Several producers and publicists say they are now thinking the most likely time frame is after Labor Day, a full year and a half after Broadway shut down.

The organizers have shared a few other details. This year’s ceremony, like those before the pandemic, will be overseen by Glenn Weiss and Ricky Kirshner. There will be some noncompetitive awards (those are honors like lifetime achievement). But there has been no announcement about whether the ceremony will be in-person or virtual, televised or streamed, live or taped; only that it will take place “in coordination with the reopening of Broadway.”

“We hope to have news very soon,” said the League’s president, Charlotte St. Martin.

#Tony awards #2021 #voting

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gra-sonas · 3 years

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Day after day this summer, with covid-19 shuttering much of the world, Lily Cowles would enter a small sewing room in her family’s 18th century home in Northwest Connecticut, crawl inside some blankets, and scream. Along with her wails, she’d repeat the same phrases, over and over — all part of a daily ritual that spanned some four hours, until a collection of voices told her they were satisfied. Then she would collect herself, climb out from the blankets and greet her boyfriend who could hear her through the walls in the next room.

“Man, you died a lot of ways today,” he’d say.

“I don’t know why they killed me so bad,” Cowles would reply.

Such were the unusual conditions for Cowles and others when recording the dialogue — and other vocalizations — for the upcoming game “Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War,” the newest addition to the famed and fanciful war sim series. The blanket-draped fort served as the actress’s workstation, with a host of audio producers providing directions via video conference. Occasionally those instructions included imagining a wide variety of fates for her character, requiring lengthy sessions capturing death cries. All of it was part of a months-long, pandemic-related process to produce the game, one that proved both challenging in its never-before-done nature and cathartic for its ample opportunities to exorcise the many anxieties of 2020.

“It just felt so good to scream for that long,” said Cowles, who plays MI-6 operative Helen Park and supplied the character’s voice for both the game’s story and multiplayer modes. She recalled one session in which the game’s audio producers recorded her falling from a 30-story building. “I was like, ‘can we make it 40 floors? I could really use the extra 10 [stories] of just straight screaming.’ It just felt like a real relief.”

The unorthodox routine was shared by “Cold War’s” cast of 125 actors as they pivoted to follow safety protocols related to the novel coronavirus, which temporarily shut down the game’s production in March. The latest installment in the Call of Duty franchise, releasing Nov. 13, was completed with both developers and actors working remotely and overcoming a variety of logistical challenges.

“At the time [in March, when covid cases escalated in the United States] we thought it might be like 20 people or 50 percent of the studio who would have to work from home, and maybe that would be for like two weeks,” Dan Vondrak, Senior Creative Director at Raven Software, said. “And then it was everybody. … In my head, I was thinking, if this thing lasts six to eight weeks, we can’t get it done. That’s impossible.”

For Cowles and the game’s other actors, that meant recording lines of dialogue — and their many screams — from the confines of their homes. That process normally would be captured in large part during live shoots using motion capture suits on a studio sound stage. During the pandemic, capturing those recordings provided a unique challenge for narrative producer Natalie Pohorski and her team.

“One of those areas I thought we were just dead in the water was the external talent [voice overs],” Vondrak said. “I can’t have actors go into a studio. So, how is this going to work? And what Natalie and the narrative team did to get that to work and have people recording at home was unbelievable.”

Before dispersing from the studio, Pohorski and Vondrak estimated they had between 50 and 60 percent of the voice over work finalized. Working with their partners at Activision (the game’s publisher) and Treyarch (“Cold War’s” co-developer), Pohorski and her team shipped the actors crates filled with recording equipment that included helmets wired with microphones, sound mixing boards and materials to improve the acoustics around their homes.

“They sent me this giant Pelican briefcase that looked like I’m an arms dealer,” Cowles said.

Veteran actor Bruce Thomas, who plays the role of CIA agent Russell Adler in the game, already had a 5-foot-by-5-foot sound booth he’d constructed in his apartment adjacent to his kitchen. He’d used it to previously to record voice overs, including for some commercials, but he’d never recorded himself there quite so regularly — or at quite the same volume level. To that end, he sought to get ahead of any potential problems with a kind gesture and a heads-up for his neighbors about any yells they may hear through the walls.

“I delivered cookies and a little note to their doors right next to me and below me,” Thomas said. “I just moved here in January, so I hadn’t really met them yet, and I got a text message from the person below me who was like, ‘Oh my God! You do that for a living? How cool is that? Even if I hear you, don’t worry about it.’”

The conditions also required the actors to perform another role as well: that of audio engineer, recording and tinkering with sound levels to ensure quality and consistency. The studio’s engineers would call actors and walk them through proper setups and troubleshoot issues, but when something went wrong, the actors would have to be the ones to fix it manually. Turns out CIA operatives have the same tech troubles as other remote workers.

“Because of covid, everybody’s home and sharing bandwidth,” Thomas said about the Internet connection in his apartment building. “Sometimes it would just cut right out [during an online recording session]. And sometimes when that happens, a glitch will happen on your laptop and so you have to reboot it.”

The recording process consisted of four sessions per day, every day of the week, according to Pohorski, who also noted they wrapped at a similar time compared to what they’d anticipated in their pre-pandemic production schedule, even as they navigated challenges that would have been easily addressed in their usual studio setting.

“To not be able to just walk up and touch the screen and act out what I was talking about … ‘I want the guy’s head to turn this way,’ … I was trying to do it real time in a video camera,” Vondrak said. “Just the communication of that last 20 percent [of the game] was probably the most difficult.”

The on-the-fly evolution of several standardized processes did carry some fringe benefits, according to both the developers and actors. On the development team, Vondrak noted some people seemed more willing to contribute their opinions to the creative process when they didn’t feel the pressure of speaking up in a formal meeting. For the actors, Cowles said her isolated, remote location led her to take more chances with her character.

“I think I was able to make facial expressions and noises that, in a normal setting, my body would be like, ‘Don’t, don’t, don’t. You don’t want to make that noise. Don’t make that face,’" Cowles said. “But I was alone in this thing, and you know, the context in which we’re working [as characters] is this crazy war zone where horrible things are going down. Right? And no one in that situation is thinking about the sound they’re making or the face that they’re making. … I think that led to a degree of authenticity in my work.”

Another silver lining, according to Vondrak, was the increased flexibility in scheduling follow-up sessions for VO work. Oftentimes VO recording sessions are pegged to specific times of the year when the developers can gather all the actors in one place and free them from their other projects. (For example, Thomas is also the motion capture actor for Master Chief for the upcoming game “Halo: Infinite.”) With everyone working from home, the actors’ schedules became more flexible.

“It was like, wait a minute, we can just go back to these people and have them pop out of their family room, into their closet and record some VO lines,” Vondrak said. “Normally it would have been like, ‘We need some new lines.’ And [the schedulers] would have said, ‘Well, the next pick up session where everyone’s going to be in the studio is June.' It’s [normally] a very slow, formal process."

The flexibility did carry an occasional side effect of home life encroaching on the working world, and vice versa, often providing a uniquely 2020 kind of amusement.

Cowles remembered recording a scene in which her character laments the loss of one of her companions, screaming his name repeatedly as a helicopter whisks her away.

“I came out of the sewing room, and my boyfriend is like … ‘So, who is he?’” Cowles said. “I was like, ‘Don’t worry about it. He’s dead now.’”

#lily cowles #call of duty: black ops cold war #rnm cast interviews #helen park

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countessofbiscuit · 3 years

Text

Suppressive Fire

(Sev/Scorch, E, 3.9k words)

Two bros, chillin' on a top bunk no feet apart 'cause they're vode. . . .

Fleet Support, Ord Mantell, barrack block 7 Alpha, six standard weeks after Geonosis

She’d be built like a tank. That was Requirement the First.

She’d be humanoid, or near enough. Her arms would number ... four. Yes, four arms, each of them doing something clever. Two to open my ass, two to pinch my nipples, her long tongue going to crazy town on my cock, burning off my pubes with her caustic breath—

Sergeant Draka. The near-human-tank was Sergeant Draka, sure as day.

Scorch grabbed this realization with one firm hand and tugged.

Her species was shab-if-I-know: some unhappy hybrid who’d washed up on the far edge of the Outer Rim and been scraped into one of those fringe clans that never removed their helmets. Her folks developed a reputation for ritualized kidnapping that didn’t sit right with Jango. He’d ripped Draka’s helmet off in a duel, apparently, and spending ten years training the spawn of her enemy was the price she’d agreed to pay to regain her honor. All those kids and nowhere to run: a bitter form of torture for both parties. Her trainees were an insular, silent bunch with a tendency to tactically acquire your shit when you weren’t looking, but they got the job done.

Scorch had first seen Draka at a parade for the prime minister when he was three. He’d never forgotten it: she had fangs and yellow eyes and ears that twitched at the tips like they were catching your current of fear. No wonder they’d encouraged her to keep a lid on.

Then Scorch was six and change and he’d stumbled upon her in a hallway. She’d had a cadet upside down, smoking him good for something. “What are you gawping at, Six-Two?” she’d snarled, her generous chest heaving, three spare arms tensing in his direction. “Shift it. Unless you want your balls torn off next.”

Scorch had been a little scared and a lot turned on.

Sergeant Vau didn’t have to use many words to put the fear of Fett under your skin. He was a conservative man. Sergeant Draka regarded a shebs-chewing as the highest form of oratory and her calling in life. Whenever Scorch stood downwind of her in the combat hall, he could feel his eyebrows being singed off a second time.

Sweating a little, Scorch’s core tensed as this fantasy tightened vividly in his holographic mind.

She puts two hands around my cock, one hand on my nipple, one hand clawing under my balls—

Scorch flipped her on her back.

She uses all four arms to spread her trunky legs, hairy as a man’s, wide in invitation—

“Knock it off,” barked Sev.

She was gone. In her place was the knowledge that his brother was clued in to what Scorch was doing on the bottom bunk and determined to make it stop.

But the pressure under Scorch’s balls held firm and his erection stood fast. Sev was an oaf with shit timing. There was a reason they gave Scorch the fiddly wires and det controls. He stretched his fingers and reset his grip. “Not happening, vod.”

“Do you have to be so loud about it?”

“Loud?” Had he said something? Lost control of his breathing?

“Yes. Loud. Like you’re slugging a hamm sandwich.”

Scorch frowned. “Have you ever had a hamm sandwich?”

“I don’t want one now.”

There was some improvement to technique needed there: Scorch was always open to feedback—to the challenge of reducing the marginal noise of a wank. “You embarrassed?” he found himself asking, strokes resuming. Less hamm-fistedly. His orgasm had slumped a little and he'd have to tenderly call it back up.

“I’m embarrassed for you,” Sev said.

Scorch closed his eyes, picturing something ...

Sergeant Draka was back, and now she was holding him and Sev upside down. The arrival of RC-1207 into the sim wasn’t throwing Scorch off. In fact, it was encouraging. Exciting. He even leaked a little at the idea. What was a commando without his squad? Chafed, apparently. He should’ve brought Sev into the game two nights ago, after they’d been rudely pulled from stasis in preparation for some op known only to Boss.

Scorch didn’t remember decant. But Sergeant Vau, who'd wasted no time rocking up to his watery exile when Jango had put out the word, said they’d been ugly, annoyed, and ornery. The nursery techs had given them mock, miniature Deeces to keep their fussy hands and mouths occupied.

Coming out of stasis had to be worse—they were issued Deeces again, but they weren’t left alone to soothe themselves to sleep with weapons. Now their waking moments belonged entirely to some Jedi named Zey. They’d been forced to run a gamut of proprioception and endurance tests, cleaned their spanking new Katarn and cleaned it once more for luck on Boss’s orders, and told to familiarize themselves with their upgraded HUD systems.

Scorch had and he'd found it wanting: no pre-loaded heavy-isotope bangers or high-definition tailhead reference holos. Did he have to do everything himself in this shabla army?

After submitting to all this with only mild complaint—Fixer had sworn in full sentences—the op order was still not forthcoming. Classic hurry up and fekkin' wait. Wait for instructions they didn’t even need. Coordinates, intel support, and a broad objective would have sufficed for a commando tasking: top brass still had a lot to learn. It had left Delta with more downtime than they liked and had left Scorch wanting nothing more than to take care of that perennial need in his groin. And each time, he had to get a little more creative.

“What’re you thinking ‘bout, Sev?” he teased, poking the boundaries of this sim. Longnecks hated that: it’s why they let the commandos have off-world field trips to forsaken places where they couldn’t peel back the corners without dying. “Something profane? Something a little non-regulation?”

“The shab is wrong with you.”

“I’ll tell you what I’m thinking ... ” The opportunity for candor—without Fixer on the opposite bunk telling him to pipe down or Boss around to make it happen—was interesting. And as far as Scorch knew, this slap-dash prefab of a support base didn’t have surveillance bugs like their dorms on Kamino. The range and assault course here weren't even specced for lasers; they had to waste live rounds on discs and be honest about getting locked onto. Not likely.

With nothing left to hide, Scorch rolled away from the wall and relaxed onto his back, his cock stiff and spry. He pulled his hood up and over his wet glans and back down again, as far as he could take it, skin smarting nicely at the stretch. He went on, “I’m thinking about Sergeant Draka.”

“Stop,” Sev said.

“Her thick thighs in my face—”

“Stop.”

Scorch spat in his hand and throttled his shaft. “Biting our balls … ” Okay, maybe that was a little weird. But if Fixer’s quick work of the base pyrowall in the anxious hours before chill-down was anything to go by, weird could be good. Better than good.

“Don’t make me come down there,” Sev growled. Not unlike Sergeant Draka, actually.

Scorch couldn’t help himself. “Oh yeah, do come down here ... ” He bucked into his fist, as if to jerk out that ball of bliss from behind his sack. The mass of him tensed rigid under one fixed goal. His fumbled around for something in the sheets with his free hand. “Come down her thick legs ... ”

If anything could singe Draka’s hairs, it’d be Sev’s spunk. Scorch loved a blast, but Sev would sprinkle baradium on his Oaties every morning if he could. Sev would spill like a gutted aiwha, animalistic and uncontrolled, and Draka would hiss and gnash her teeth and—

And suddenly, Scorch was over the line. His base clenched hard, choking his groan of release. He convulsed and came thickly into one of yesterday’s socks.

“Shab,” he croaked, his vision returning, his limbs pooling with pituitary pleasure. “Blew up real good.”

Somewhere above him, Sev huffed. “Three nights in a row. You’re disgusting—you know that, right?”

“Stasis, my shebs. I’ve never had such busy balls in my short life.” Scorch twisted languidly to the edge of the mattress and sat up, squeezing his cock clean. “Cooking blanks like they might get lucky.” The knotted sock got buried in tomorrow’s laundry and Scorch borrowed some of Boss’s wet wipes for the cleanup. Sarge wouldn’t miss them.

“The rest of us are fine,” Sev countered.

Scorch glanced at Sev over his shoulder. His brother looked like a corpse who’d taken up reading in the afterlife. Base bunks weren’t much cosier than a stasis pod, but something else was keeping Sev’s spine stiff. Something that might affect squad performance if it wasn’t addressed: a bad case of self-inflicted blue balls.

Scorch pulled up his pants and ambled over. “You know ... you say that. But this says something else.” He grabbed Sev’s perky junk.

Happily for his brother, Scorch’s grip was light. So when Sev knocked Scorch backwards at the throat, he didn’t take Sev’s sack with him. A scuffle ensued, half-hearted on Scorch’s side, though Sev was obviously in one of his fuck-off moods. He always was crankiest after a nap; it’d take him days to shake off stasis. And he was still pissed about Procurement’s theft of his helmet, with its authentic Gamma blood enshrined in red paint. That di’kutla squad had been shipped to Triple Zero, and until Sev butted heads with them again, he’d be as scratchy as a flea-bitten akk.

Using the shallow bunkrail, Scorch flung himself up and collapsed onto his brother, asking the cantilevered cot to bear the weight of two commandos. He was a trusting soul. The tussle continued until Scorch allowed Sev to secure a headlock, rather than drag them both onto the floor. They’d just gotten out of one unnatural bath and he didn’t fancy a dunk in bacta.

Scorch tapped Sev’s thigh. “Alright, alright,” he said hoarsely. Sev’s hold loosened a fraction and Scorch scooted out from it. Sitting up, he grabbed the holozine that had gotten pinned against the wall: some monthly edition of erudition that called itself Lasers & Blasters. “Didn’t know you could, Oh-Seven.”

Sev snatched the ‘zine to stuff it under his pillow. “It’s above your cadet-grade.”

“I think everyone knows you’re the knuckle-dragger around here, not me.”

“I think everyone knows I’m the hero of Geonosis, Killer of Sun Fac.”

Scorch made a theatrical noise that sounded like a broken, wet bes’bev. “Woo-hoo! You hit the broad side of a bantha!”

Now Sev really tried to catapult him onto the floor. But Scorch’s close-combat situational awareness noticed that his brother’s cockstand was holding strong.

“Sev,” he said, panting a little when they’d reached another stalemate, “the only people who know Sun Fac’s name are us, some spooks, and that random forward air controller.”

“Shove off.” Sev kicked him with his boot. He wore them to bed like an animal.

Scorch shook his head. “Not until you take care of yourself.”

“You have some shabla nerve, vod.”

“Rule 45: there should be no happier union than that between a commando and his weapon. But you’ve neglected yours.” He cast a judgemental eye at Sev’s tented pants. They’d been sleeping, shooting, and shitting cheek-by-jowl for their entire lives: Scorch didn’t know why one more bodily function would be that much worse. In that moment, he had more sympathy for his brother’s dick than his brother’s karked-up dignity. Or his own.

He glanced at the chrono. Boss and Fixer still had half an hour at the range and they’d probably hit the mess on the way back. Time enough for a little more equipment maintenance; Scorch believed he was being supremely generous offering what remained of his. He flopped over into a plank above his brother, who was still lying deathly prone. “If you’re not gonna help yourself ...”

“What?” Sev sneered. “You’ll do the honors?”

“Maybe I will. I am better than you, after all,” Scorch grinned. Suddenly, he sensed a game that he wanted to win. They were all like that. Competitive. Not so much against each other, but with each other. Getting screwy Sev off would be the ultimate victory: no one would lose and everyone would leave happy.

“You can’t.” Sev’s disinterest was as threadbare as his pillowcase.

“Alright, vod. I’ll take that bet.” Scorch dug the heel of his hand into his brother’s persistent erection. Sev’s eyelids fluttered. No greater tell in the book. “I bet I can get you off before Boss and Fixer get back. Just this once.”

Sev circled his hands around Scorch’s throat, hissing through perfect teeth bared tight, “You—can’t—Sergeant—Vau—would—”

Scorch scoffed. “You see Sarge here? He’s fucked off to his castle with his kaminii retirement fund.”

Vau had never promised he’d be there on the other side, but ... did he know they’d done a good job? That they’d been singled out for the assassination of the bugs’ chief lieutenant? That they’d survived—no, that they'd excelled, when hundreds of other squads hadn’t? Did he even care? Scorch had to wonder.

He shoved those thoughts aside with conscious effort; they wouldn’t do him any good. Better that Vau wasn't here anyway: he would sniff mightily at this interpretation of no brother left behind. “Hells, he’s probably rubbing one out to a portrait of the dead missus right now,” Scorch continued.

Sev’s grip tightened for their sergeant’s honor. “He wouldn’t—”

“He would. Stars love the old chakaar, Sev, but he’s only flesh and blood.” Actually, that’s all Vau was: cragged skin and blue blood twisted ‘round a frame that seemed to boast a few more bones than average. There must have been a heart in there, too—see: Mird—but Delta had spent their entire cadethood seeking it out to little good. Especially Sev, though he’d slot you for saying so.

Oh, Sev’ika: flesh and blood, plus a lot of bile and bad humor. He stank out the backend when he’d scarfed down too many ration packs, but what would splatter out the front? Scorch was beyond curious now, as he palmed his brother’s package through his clothes.

Sev’s hands held firm, but it was half-hearted, his thumbs only tickling his brother’s trachea. His nostrils flared. He was afraid. No, even better—he was desperate.

It was all the vindication Scorch needed. “That’s right—breathe. Relax. Six-Two’s got you.” He tugged Sev’s fatigues down, hitching the elasticene band behind his balls. Sev grimaced. Yeah, it might not be comfortable yet, but just wait; a little pressure there goes a long way.

“That hurts,” growled Sev.

“Gonna hand me the game?” If Sev had lost sight of his mission objective, he really was gummed up. “Jerking off through a fly feels like doing it in formation,” Scorch said.

Sev turned his head to the wall. If he’d done it at all, that was clearly how.

Scorch took his theoretically-identical brother in hand and felt the heft and heat of a dick that was still an inch left of familiar, however many times he'd seen it. Sev was throbbing. His hands fell away, as deliberately limp as the rest of him, like he was trying to absent himself from his body.

“So ... Sergeant Draka—” Scorch began, realizing he’d just been staring at his brother’s kad for longer than was right. He mentally constructed the fantasy again, deliberately this time, while he warmed up to the idea of working someone else’s shaft. Sev’s shaft. He imagined what Sev might like to hear, because Scorch sure as shab wasn’t keen on hardening up between his brother’s legs himself. That would just be strange. “She’s got you under two hands and a squawking bug under the other, honkin' great tits ready to smother the both of you ...”

Up until he’d found his brother’s cock in his hand, Scorch had fancied himself an honest commando. He really did. Then he had to close the dissonance between his not-insignificant-interest in Sev’s pink tip and, well, Sev: that awkward grump-a-lump who couldn’t look at a sapient or sentient, droid or organic, without scaring them away.

Scorch did it by telling himself this was just his own his cock in a mirror. A learning experience, if nothing else. And his tongue loosened to remember the bet. He began rubbing with intent. “She snaps its neck. Crunch. And isn’t that just your favoritest sound, Sev, ol’ boy?”

“Not her,” Sev said hoarsely.

Manda, he really was giving this to Scorch in the bag. “Who?”

“—don’t know—I don’t shabla know.”

“Easy, vod. You got a lifetime to find out. Well, half of one.”

“Shut. Up.”

Scorch changed the program and flicked a thumbnail right under Sev’s hood. Scratched out whatever dream Sev had building behind his scrunched eyes. It was irrelevant, whatever cleaned the pipes. If his brother didn’t want to say, who was Scorch to ask? The silky give of his hard-on and his nasally gasps vouched that Sev was having an a-okay time. Scorch wouldn’t have a hand, otherwise.

Sev bubbled from his tip. Scorch felt himself flush, but he was more intrigued than anything. It really was like watching a holo of himself. Obviously, Scorch was more handsome, mostly because he wasn’t a fucking psycho ... but a cock was a cock. He lengthened his movement with the slick aid of precome, fisting all the way down to Sev’s slightly lighter curls.

Suddenly, Sev’s fingers wrapped around his. For an alarming half-second, Scorch feared his wrist was about to be snapped. Goodbye dominant hand and superhuman reaction times.

But Sev just held on, eyes pinched shut, arm as unyielding as a barrel.

The situation became more straightforward. Emboldened by the team effort, Scorch stroked faster. Harder. He read the lines in Sev’s fierce face like a manual for a weapon he’d been handed five years ago. A clone lifetime. A batcher’s intuition. He shucked Sev’s sheath down as hard as he could. Twisted his wrist at the top further than Sev’s delicate skin wanted to go. Scorch figured his brother liked the bite of pain. “You feelin’ the heat? You gonna spill all over my fingers, Sev’ika?” he teased.

Sev heaved like he might throw up, and he coughed out only two words. “Do. Not.”

Yeah, he hates that kind of chummy osik and yakking. It was almost sad how much Sev knew what he didn’t want, but couldn’t voice what he did. Even Fixer grunted in approval when something wriggled across the ‘pad’s screen; at least he had some idea what kind of parts he fancied. It was a very broad pool.

Sev just looked embarrassed to be asked.

“Someone’s gonna love your shit, Sev,” Scorch encouraged, coming at it again from a different vector. If he didn’t show his wacky brother some love, who would?

Vau hadn’t been there to bestow that curt nod. They didn’t want to be spoiled. Scorch and his brothers weren’t Skirata’s pups: they’d survived Geonosis because they weren’t. But ... Delta was here and Theta wasn’t and Vau had no karkin’ clue what a close-run thing it’d been. Didn’t know how the knife-edge of his training had probably made all the difference and how chuffed they all were about it.

Or how Sev had made that one-in-a-million shot to Sun Fac’s fighter with half his visor splattered in bug spray. Scorch would remember that for the rest of his short life: angry tendrils of smoke rising behind Sev as he turned contemptuously away from his kill, his helmet gooey with Geonosian.

There were brothers, and there were your brothers: the ones who’d made you better just by being there beside you. Sev was one of those.

Scorch didn’t have to improv osik, now. The words came as easy as his muscle memory as he pistoned his palm along Sev’s angry cock. “Fuckin’ proud of you, Sev: bane of bugs and sniper extraordinaire. Wish Vau could’ve seen it, I really do. I’ll have CLONINT’s guts for rappelling lines for wiping Boss’s cache.”

Sev’s free hand had bunched into the sheet, his knuckles whitening. He stilled suddenly, tense as the second before the opening salvo. Here it comes.

“Ooh, so that’s how Sev breaks. Result!” Scorch had imagined Sev’s orgasm would be like squeezing blood from a stone. Not at all: it came as surely and naturally as his own. Scorch watched intently. Who knew their balls became one in the moment of triumph like that? As Sev’s practically disappeared into his taut body, Scorch had to think on his feet to save his brother’s freshly-laundered fatigues—or, on his knees and elbows, as the case was.

Thunking his other arm across his face, Sev lost the bet with a violent shudder—and without a sound, probably so he couldn’t say he’d enjoyed it. He squirted fully but cleanly onto the open spread of the ‘zine, thanks to Scorch’s management and direction. A long, messy line of cloudy white right across the cross-sectioned barrel of a Magna-Caster-100. Thank fuck for flimsi.

Shaking off Sev's hand, Scorch dropped the wilting cock. It was not attractive, and he prayed the ladies wouldn't think the same, warring with himself about whether he could succumb to the mortification of going limp in someone’s mouth. Maybe it was better to pull out and stripe them? It merited further research on Fixer’s ‘pad, just in case.

“Target softened. Should make things easier for you. Hope you took notes,” Scorch said, oddly transfixed by the description of the ‘Caster’s invisible quarrels he’d spotted on the page. He was growing itchy for a time-sensitive rummage—Scorch would wager his lower left nut that Delta could now go toe-to-toe with any of Draka’s squads for acquisition. With any luck, this mysterious upcoming op would net them some exotic toys.

He shifted his weight, feeling the need to move before that idea made him stiff again and everyone got the wrong impression.

“‘m not soft, di’kut,” Sev mumbled from underneath his arm.

Scorch patted his thigh. “Sure you’re not.”

“Getting soft will get us popped.”

Scorch was halfway off the bunk, but he stopped to squeeze Sev’s fucked-up head. “Hey, ner vod. Look at me—look at me,” he demanded. Sev let his arm fall behind his curls but he kept his gaze elsewhere. “No need to quote Sarge to me. Or go grey over stupid stuff like him.”

Stuff like distraction—a dirty word in Vau’s lexicon. What did they have to get distracted by, anyhow? Grainy holovids? They had enough room in their over-engineered skulls for a few of those, and if they ever got to touch the real thing, Scorch figured they wouldn’t lose their heads. Right? Civvies were so unexceptional, after all. Probably couldn’t tell a maranium blast from a benign xenon light sculpture. Brothers, especially your fellow commandos, were the only company worth keeping—even Vau said so, and Skirata had said Vau had wined and dined New Mando aristos and had bedded a fekkin’ princess in a past life.

Eventually, Sev’s sour mug puckered in something like thought. “If you fucked up my range scores, I’m going to piss in your pack.”

Scorch laughed, dumping his feet onto the floor and wandering in the direction of Boss’s ration bars. Mess was a whole two hours away and Scorch had a month’s eating to make up for. “Sev’ika, no one could fuck up your range scores. You just pregamed with Lasers & Blasters.”

The ‘zine smacked the back of Scorch’s head, wet side flat.

Yeah, we're still good, Scorch thought, as he finally manhandled his stroppy brother onto the floor. And we always will be.

(also on Ao3)

#republic commando #delta squad #repcomm #sev #scorch #clonecest #biscuit fic

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