#he's so other and not-very-military-at-all

[feluka]

"How many of you like have you ever been to Jerusalem? Raise your hand if you have ever been to Jerusalem. We have 60 students here, and we have one... two, probably three... That's that's very few of you! I've never been to Jerusalem. We're Palestinians; we live in Gaza; we can't go to Jerusalem because of the Israeli occupation.

But we love Jerusalem, right? [A chorus of students saying "yes".] We love Jerusalem because of what it means to us. We've never been there, but believe me, when you go there you will feel that you've been there hundreds of times. Because you read about Jerusalem in literature, in stories. Of course it doesn't mean that that's it, that we should take the Jerusalem that's in the stories and that's it, no.

But in literature, Jerusalem comes back to us. It's true that there is suffering; there is pain; there is occupation, and that's why Tamim Al-Barghouti, as a young Palestinian poet, I think is doing a great service to the Palestinian cause and the Palestinian struggle.

When you listen to him reciting his poem from Al-Quds, or other poems, he takes you to Jerusalem. You live in Jerusalem. He takes you back to it. You liberate it for just a little bit of time.

And if there is hope; if you can imagine a free Palestine, a free Jerusalem, probably you will work towards that, and the same thing applies to occupied Palestine. We've never been to other parts of Palestine because of the Israeli occupation, but we've been told so many times by our parents and our grandparents, especially our mothers, they've been telling us stories about Palestine in the past, the good old days, when Palestine was all beautiful, unoccupied, unraped.

Therefore, I say in in this case how our homeland turns into a story. In reality, we can't have it; we don't have it, but it can turn into poems, into literature, into stories, so our homeland turns into a story. We love our homeland because of the story. We love our homeland because of the story, and we love the story because it's about our homeland, and this connection is significant.

Israel wants to sever this relationship, for example between Palestinians and the land; Palestinians and Jerusalem, and other places and cities, and literature attaches us back - connects us strongly to Palestine, so in my thinking, this is a very significant thing that literature contributes to. Creating realities; making the impossible sound possible.

In real life, again because we are here in Palestine and Gaza, I'll be giving you examples from Palestinian and Arab literature so we can compare and make things clearer. We all know Fadwa Tuqan, the Palestinian poet - and please do not introduce her as Ibrahim Tuqan's sister, let's talk about her as Fadwa Tuqan and then somewhere else mention that, "by the way, Ibrahim Tuqan was her brother". Let's not throw her under the shadow of a man, even if it's her brother, who was a great poet, we can't deny that.

So this is Fadwa Tuqan, a Palestinian poet, 40 years ago or 50 years ago, writing poetry... Of course, we always fall into this trap of saying "she was arrested for just writing poetry!" We do this, even us believers in literature, "Why would Israel arrest somebody or put somebody under house arrest if she only wrote a poem?!"

So we contradict ourselves sometimes. We believe in the power of literature, changing life as a means of resistance, a means of fighting back and in the end we say, "She just wrote a poem!" We shouldn't be saying that.

Moshe Daya, an Israeli general, said that the poems of Fadwa Tuqan were like facing 20 enemy fighters. Wow.

She didn't throw stones; she didn't shoot at the invading Israeli military jeeps. She just wrote poetry. And I'm falling for that again, I'm saying "she just wrote poetry".

So this is what how Israel's dealing with Palestinian poets, and the same thing happened to Palestinian poet Dareen Tatour. She wrote poetry celebrating Palestinian struggle; encouraging Palestinians to resist, not to give up, to fight back. She was put under house arrest. She was sent to prison for years.

And therefore I end here with a very significant point. Don't forget that Palestine was first and foremost occupied in Zionist literature and Zionist poetry.

Palestine was presented as these things, I'll be mentioning some of them, but there's a contradiction here, there's a paradox always. "Palestine is a land without a people to our people without a land", "Palestine flows with milk and honey", "there's no one there, so let's go". We'll see how later on, how many even Jewish people were disappointed when they came to Palestine. Number one, there was no milk and honey, because "flowing with milk and honey" sounds like you're just going to be groping around, and milk and honey will be thrown at you - and there were people! There have always been people in Palestine.

The fact that Israel worked hard to ethnically cleanse Palestine, to kick Palestinians out, first and foremost in literature - yes, in politics and everything - shows how significant poetry is.

To sum up, Palestine was occupied metaphorically in the poem long before it was physically and militarily occupied in your life, so let's do the same. Let's fight back; let's restore Palestine in in our writings; in our poetry; in our stories."

-Professor Refaat Alareer explaining to his students the power of poetry as a means of resistance, and why the occupation targets poets, during one of his lectures at IUG.

#refaat alareer #free palestine #literature #poetry #i'm always in awe of him when i listen to him #i'm thinking of making summaries of his other lectures too though i'd rather people hear it from him

[ao3topshipsbracket]

honestly I'm kinda disappointed all the popular/well known ships are gone/eliminated

the semis look kinda boring now tbh

(ps: I don't mean to hate on the ships winning. I'm sure they're winning for a reason. it's just they're all kinda unknown/not mainstream)

We're definitely surprised to see some of the highly seeded ships go down early, but personally, I think that makes the remaining matches more exciting, not less! Who doesn't love an upset, after all? But of course, with Bubbline in one half and Destiel in the other, there are definitely some significant heavy hitters still in the running!

That being said, we know we have some underdog semifinalists that people are less familiar with, so here's a brief primer on each of them!

Hualian comes from the Chinese novel Tian Guan Ci Fu, or Heaven Official's Blessing. If you've heard of Wangxian of Mo Dao Zu Shi/The Untamed fame, TGCF comes from the same author. It is a xianxia love story about ghost kings and fallen gods. Here's the plot synopsis from IMDB:

Eight hundred years ago, Xie Lian was the Crown Prince of the Xian Le kingdom. He was loved by his citizens and was considered the darling of the world. He ascended to the Heavens at a young age; however, due to unfortunate circumstances, was quickly banished back to the mortal realm. Years later, he ascends again, only to be banished again a few minutes after his ascension. Now, eight hundred years later, Xie Lian ascends to the Heavens for the third time as the laughing stock among all three realms. On his first task as a god thrice ascended, he meets a mysterious demon who rules the ghosts and terrifies the Heavens, yet, unbeknownst to Xie Lian, this demon king has been paying attention to him for a very, very long time.

At #58 in the Tumblr 2023 top ship list, they're solidly middle of the pack in terms of seeding, but they did take down Buddie at #10, and Davekat of Homestuck infamy: a very impressive showing!

Sulemio hails from the latest installment in the Mobile Suit Gundam anime franchise, The Witch from Mercury; as with all Gundam series, it is a sci-fi military drama featuring giant robots and space warfare. This one happens to also feature heavy inspiration from Revolutionary Girl Utena. Official synopses seem a bit lacking, and I unfortunately don't know enough about the series to summarize it myself, but I'll link this very helpful guide that someone left in our notes!

They're the lowest seeded of our semifinalists, ranking #59 on Tumblr's 2023 top ship list, so the fact that they've taken out the top seed is truly a feat; having a rallying force with @demilypyro has certainly helped their cause (and our very busy activity feed 😅) a great deal!

Regardless of who wins the next rounds, there are very fun underdog journeys present on both sides of the bracket. Plus, it's always good to remember that polls like these are not meant to be indicators of popularity, but of passion.

#not a poll #asks

[put-me-through-the-wall]

Okay but imagine Possesive!Konig finding out someone has a crush on you. Like maybe there's guy from work who likes to linger by your desk little too long or alway finds a reason to text you when you're off. You don't think too much of it, you've always been friendly with your coworkers. It can be dull just sitting at your desk for eight hours so a little conversation helped break up the time. You figure he was harmless. Then people in the office start to notice and you realize how frequently he finds a reason to interrupt your day. Your other coworker once made a joke that he was your 'work husband' and that was the line for you. Not only were you uninterested but you also have a 6'7 hunk of a man waiting at home, who you're very content with. Then you start to notice how close he stands to you. The way he uses any excuses to brush against you or pick a piece of lint off your shoulder. So the next time that guy approaches stops by your desk you are only giving short responses. He offers to grab you something when he goes to the cafe and you refuse. He tries to walk you to your car but you insist you have to stay over to finish up some forms. He doesn't catch the hint though. You don't want to be harsh and spoil the work relationship, that last thing you need is more drama in the office environment.

Then one night you're at home on the weekend. You're sitting on the couch with Konig watching some German cooking show he insisted on and your phone lights up with a text from your dreaded admirer. "Hey! A couple of us are getting together tonight for some drinks. Would love for you to join ;)",

Your stomach tightens when you unlock your phone and feel Konig's stare over your shoulder.

"Who is that?" His tone remains flat but you feel his arm tighten around your waist. You pray he doesn't assume there is anything going on behind his back.

"This guy from work who won't stop bugging me. I'm keeping things strictly professional but he's always pushing it". You reply back to the text quickly giving a lame excuse that shouldn't warrant a response. Your phone chimes almost immediately.

"Aw too bad, I was hoping I could get you that cocktail we were talking about. Next time then xx".

You don't text him back after that and flip your phone over on the coffee table. "Sorry, let's finish this episode." You settle back against his strong chest but he sits up and grabs the remote, pausing the show.

"No, I'm tired and it's late. Let's get to bed." He rises and heads to your bedroom.

All you can think of for the rest of the night is how he interpreted the whole interaction. Could he think you flirt with this loser? Surely, he would have more faith in your loyalty. You knew you were taking the easy way out by not being totally honest. The guilt eats at you knowing you lied by omission. You thought keeping your work life and personal life separate would be easier but now you realize it was just a way to avoid the confrontation. After a not so restful night sleep you are you determine today is the day you'll finally let Pat know that you are in a committed relationship and don't appreciate the attention you receive from him. Konig is already up and dressed while you stir your coffee still in your robe. You didn't know much about his work other than it was something to do with the military and it called him away at a moment's notice. He was out of the door with a kiss on your head.

When your breathing finally slowed to a steady pace last night, Konig was able to sneak out from under you and take a peek at your phone. He wasn't worried about his sweet libeling doing anything naughty behind his back. The contents of your phone only confirm that. The real purpose of his search was to find out some more info on your coworker. He looked through the many texts this guy has sent with way too many emojis attached while you give him mostly one word responses. He knew you didn't have a wandering eye. After finding his phone number and social media from your accounts it wasn't hard to get a hold of his address. By the next morning he had a plan in motion. He kissed you goodbye and headed out. You are such a trusting girl, wishing him a good day at work. He plugged in the address and found the place with ease. Actually not too far from your place. He parks a few block away from his destination. Dressed in a dark sweatshirt, he keeps the hood up to hid his identity without looking too suspicious. He reaches the complex, taking a moment to observe the apartment building. He sees the man walk by the patio door while buttoning his dress shirt, innocently getting ready for work. Trying to look his best for you, he's sure. Konig slips on his mask and knocks on the front door. There is a moment of shuffling and the door swings open.

"Can I help you...?" The man voice becomes weak as he stretches his neck up to meet Konig's steely gaze behind the sniper hood. Konig takes out his phone to confirm the identity, holding the screen next to the man's face just to be sure.

"You are Pat?" Konig questions.

"Um, yea?" Pat responds.

Konig squints down at him, tilting his head "You do not know who you are?".

"I mean, yes I'm Pat" His voice now more certain.

"Very good." Without waiting for a response Konig shoves the him back inside of his apartment and slams the door shut with his boot. Pat falls backwards and lands hard on his ass. He shuffles backwards but not fast enough. Konigs snatches him up by the collar of his crisp white shirt, slamming him into the nearest wall, knocking picture frame down in his wake. He catches the scent of his overpowering cologne making his rage boil over. He holds the man in place with a sturdy forearm against his skinny throat. Pat's feet dangle off the floor, kicking helplessly.

"Look man, you've got the wrong guy here! If this about the bet at the bar I've got the money. Let me just-" His cracking voice is cut off by a swift punch to the gut.

"Listen to me" Konig hisses through clenched teeth and pushing on his windpipe. "You will call your boss today. You will quit. Is that understood?".

"Huh?" He squeaks out. Another jab and Pat is scratching at the solid arm retracting his oxygen. Konig removes his hold and Pat crumples to the floor, gasping for air while gripping his abused neck.

"Is that understood?" Konig's voice booms in growing rage.

"Yes!" Pat answer between coughs. Not trusting any man's word Konig watches him make the call letting your boss know he will not be coming in for the indefinite future. Satisfied with the work he's done, Konig drives back to your place whistling along to a familiar tune on the radio.

You head into work, psyching yourself up on the car ride there. Rehearsing the conversation and possible scenarios that could play out. Once clocked in you nervously sit at your desk, bouncing your leg, trying your best to focus on the workload before you. Just waiting for the inevitable moment he appears but, it never comes. The hours skip by and Pat never shows himself. It's not until lunch time you finally leave your desk round the corner to see Pat's desk being packed away. You walked up to your manager clearing out the drawers.

"Hey, where's Pat?" you ask.

"Oh, you didn't hear? He quit." She tosses the last of the trinkets in the cardboard box and closes the flaps.

"Quit? why?" you feign concern but you can't help the wave of relief that washes over you.

"I'm not sure. He called all in huff this morning. Did he say anything to you?" She asks.

"No not at all. I hope he's alright." You watch her take the box in her arms, leaving the empty desk. Maybe this was the universe finally giving you a break.

You get through the rest of your day and head back home. You find your oversized Austrian man strewn across your couch, cleaning out a pint of Ben and Jerry's.

"Hello there, I'm guessing your day went well." You say as you shuck off your jacket and hang up your bag.

"Yes it was very fulfilling. I took care of an issue that has been bothering me. How was your day, mien engel?" He set the empty carton on the coffee table as he polishes off the spoon.

"Very good actually. Remember that guy who was bugging me at work? He quit today." Konig's eyebrow shoot up in surprise.

"That is one less thing to worry about then." He say. He rises from the couch, grabs you by the waist and pulls you tight to him. "I'm glad to have you all to myself."

#Konig x reader #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig fluff #konig fanfiction #konig fic #cod mw2 #cod #call of duty #modern warfare

[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 12th of May, 2024

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 12th of May, 2024

Question: What does Harry want from this Nigerian visit?

Interpretation: He wants to use it to makes things go back the way they used to be, and he wants to be the centre of attention.

Card One: Death in reverse

Death is a card of change, of moving from one state to another with no way to go back, of letting go of things. In the reverse, it is someone who does not want to change, who is not letting go of things, who is repeating negative patterns, and who wants to return to a previous state.

Death is the card of Scorpio, and King Charles is a sun sign Scorpio, so I am taking this card as referring to King Charles in particular as well as things in general.

The energy of this card is of someone who does not want things to change, who wants to go back to the way things used to be. Harry does not want his position and privileges to change. He would like very much to go back to being treated as he was treated when he was a working royal. I hear the words 'I want to go home', but 'home' is the days of Hero Harry and being the most popular royal. Harry can't return to those days - he has shown us too clearly what he is really like for that to happen - but he wants to go back to those days.

With respect to The King, Harry wants to go back to the days when honours were set aside for him and given to him, when houses were provided for him, when he was included as a member of the BRF. He wants his father to treat him the way he used to, not like he is doing now, e.g. giving military honours to Prince William and not to Harry. I know and you know that Harry lost all that when he left the BRF, but it appears that Harry did not know this, and he honestly thought he could go and be a 'private citizen' and still have military honours awarded to him by the King, keep his houses and his patronages, etc. He wants to go back to those days and there is a lot of puzzlement coming through as to why they are not happening any more. He can't understand what he did to be punished in this way (he views the lack of more military honours, free housing etc as a punishment). In his mind, all he did was tell the truth, just like he had always been told to do, so why is he being punished for it?

With respect to the Nigeria visit, I think that Harry is desperately trying to show his father that he can behave like a royal, so please won't you let me back in to the BRF as a working royal with all my old perks and privileges?

Card Two: The Three of Pentacles in reverse

The Three of Pentacles is about teamwork, three or more people working together to achieve a goal, putting in the effort to make something. In the reverse, it is someone who is not a team player, who is in competition with those around them, driven by their ego, and/or lacks any motivation to do any hard work.

The energy coming from this card, very strongly, is 'not a team player'. Harry wants to be seen as unique and special, not part of a crowd (or a team) but as the leader, the inspiration, the one everyone looks up to. He also has no intention of putting in any hard work, preferring to sit back and let others do that for him.

Harry wants this trip to show what a unique, special, and inspirational person he is, and how he deserves a special place set above everyone else just because of who he is naturally. He wants to be treated as someone special. The energy from the card hints that this goal has been accomplished and Harry is satisfied with his reception in Nigeria - it has highlighted how wonderful he is to his satisfaction (it could have been better, of course, but he is not upset with what he was given).

Card Three: The Eight of Pentacles, in reverse

The Eight of Pentacles is the apprentice card. It is about gaining mastery, learning and honing your skills, having high standards for yourself and others and striving to meet them. In the reverse, it is about being lazy, not learning and not honing your skills, wasting your talents, a rushed job/poor quality goods, having little or no motivation to improve yourself, mediocrity.

The energy from this card is that of laziness. So much laziness. Harry does not want to work, he does not want to learn, he does not want to improve himself. He is mediocre at best and sub standard at worst but he thinks he is top quality and perfectly OK exactly the way he is.

Harry did not want to do any work at all for this visit. He was happy to turn up and be praised and admired, but there was never any intention of putting any effort into it. He does not want to learn about the country, the people, their problems - he does not want to know about it. He wants to turn up for a few things and be admired and praised. He doesn't want people to expect him to work or do anything that involves making an effort.

Card Four: The Pages of Wands

Pages are messages, Wands can be PR, upright is good news. Harry wants good PR from this trip. He wants glowing media reports on whatever he does or doesn't do. He wants fawning, bootlicking, over-the-top sugary articles about how wonderful he is and how much he is loved and what an inspiration he is, and if he gets that he will be happy.

Underlying Energy: The Sun in reverse

The Sun card is about optimism, success, everything going right, warmth, being the golden child (as Apollo, on the card, is the favoured son of Zeus), joy, confidence, vitality. In the reverse it is about not being the golden child, pessimism, things not going right, depression, sadness. It can also be being conceited or being over-optimistic.

The energy from this card is of someone who absolutely wants to be the centre of attention and have people fawning over him where ever he goes. It is either a message from the universe that Harry is being over-optimistic in what he wants from this visit, or it is that Harry wants to be conceited, he wants to be bombastic and talk on and on and on while people around him are smothering their yawns, he wants to be surrounded by yes -men who will pander to his conceits.

The Sun is the card of The Sun, the ruling planet of Leo, and Meghan is a sun-sigh Leo. This card is not about Meghan, though. It is about Harry. In astronomy, The Sun is your self, your ego, your core values etc. The less evolved aspects of The Sun involve being arrogant, conceited, egotistic, full of yourself, demanding all the attention be on you, etc, and this appears to be exactly how Harry wants to behave on this visit - and to get approval for it, as The Sun card can also be about other people approving of you and saying yes to you.

Conclusion:

Harry wants four things from this trip to Nigeria. He wants to be lazy, i.e. not asked to do any work, he wants to be treated as someone special and inspirational, he wants glowing PR, and he wants to show his father that he can behave like a royal so he will be let back into the BRF and everything will be the way it used to be. The 'back in the family' ask is the underlying motive, the other three are things that he wants all the time.

Underneath all this is a need to be conceited and self absorbed and have people agree with him, to display the traits of ego, arrogance, demand all the attention etc and have everyone just smile and not just go along with it, but actively pander to him. If he gets all this from the Nigeria trip then he will consider it a success.

[hoseoksluna]

VAPOR, pt III. | jjk ft. myg

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x steam!oc 

genre: smut

word count: 9.9k

summary: the naughtiest of times bring about the greatest of healing.

pinterest board: vapor

warnings: punishment, spanking, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), a little bit of ass play, cum eating, raw sex, multiple orgasms, sex toy included, praise kink, jk smokes:), jk also reveals a past pain:(

note: nawt my best work, but i guess it's alright:( here it is, my loves—the very end to the steam series. i enjoyed indulging myself in this world and i'd like to thank all of you for allowing me to do that. thank you so much for all the love and support. i do all of this for you:) wink wink. this is pure smut and nothing else, and i hope you like this at least a little bit. i love you all so much, pwease give me your feedback, thank you. <3

Jungkook thought brushing his teeth with you in the morning while you wore his boxers and stole one of his white, ribbed tank tops was heaven enough. That was until he couldn’t lay his sleepy gaze off of you when you sat on his balcony with a cigarette between your two fingers and a cup of strong coffee in the other two and your thumb. 

Still can’t. 

He’s never been a morning person. To him, all mornings resembled some kind of hell that you suffer through until afternoon rolls around until you finally awaken. But seeing you like this, delighted, with two of your pleasures… he might become an early bird. Wake up each morning with joy just to see yours. Just to watch you be at complete peace, puffing out the smoke out into the sun-breathed air. 

The weather is a stark contrast to yesterday’s funeral of clouds. Not one is in sight, sun rays envelop the heavens in a golden light that spills through your hair—half done in a messy knot of some sort at the back of your head while wisps of shorter strands frame your face and your neck. He’s given you his spirally hair tie that he wore in his pre-military days. Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he told you how long he let his hair grow because he knew shaving his head was inevitable and it served as some kind of strange preparation for him. You brushed your fingers through his hair, then, unbelief painting your face in cutesy colors. As if you tried to feel the long-gone memory of his long tufts of hair that curled at the ends. He was so touched by it—maybe it’s one of the reasons why he can’t stop looking at you now.

It’s dawning on him that you love him. That you’re his. It wasn’t a dream, after all. 

And you’re such a stark image of effortless beauty—even with your puffy eyelids and mouth, with your healthily flushed cheeks. How can he not look at you… he fears if he does, you’ll disappear into the thin air. He can’t afford that, not when he went through so much pain to get to this point. 

This is his reality now. It’s difficult to get used to. He’d never thought he’d get this lucky. Perhaps, heaven does care about him, wants to see him after all, because it blessed him with you, blessed him with freedom that he can indulge in hand in hand with you. 

Jungkook feels an inkling to find a church and kneel at the altar. Thank God for what he’s done for him. Call his dad and tell him that he found Him.

The thought of how happy he’d be fills him with vigor redolent of the last of the summer creeping in. There’s so much of it that Jungkook finds it hard to breathe, his lungs taut with all this joy and love that he feels. 

It seems as though this time he will, in fact, live his life happily. Get rid of his alcoholic habits, drink from the fountain of you instead—make that a brand new habit. Keep his paints. Keep the memory of your features and your sleep-tousled hair engraved deeply in his brain so he can transfer it onto his sketchbook. Eternalize you for generations to come. Clutch those papers tight to his chest when God does take him to heaven once his time comes. 

Happiness. How did he deserve such a thing? 

He sighs, watches you suck the last of your cigarette. The sunlight radiates you with a glow too grand for his eyes to take in and as you breathe out the swirls of smoke, he has to look elsewhere. Your full breasts pebble against his tank top, too stretched out for your small form, and it douses him with liquid tendrils of desire for you. All due to the fact you’re wearing his clothes, that you’re bare underneath them, that your nakedness brought about so much pleasure for him last night—due to the very memory that you didn’t wear your underwear for him because they would get in his way. Fuck, his cock tightens under his joggers, the ones that match those you wore to bed. He hasn’t eaten yet and he thinks you’re the perfect choice of breakfast for the day. 

You put out your cigarette in the ashtray he found for you in the cabinet, left behind by the tenants that lived here before him, and a soft smile curls your slumber-kissed mouth. Your irises flick across the width of his chest, across his crossed forearms and biceps and your smile deepens. You cradle your cup of coffee in both of your hands, slouching in your chair. He’ll never tire of the way it feels to be looked at by you. The tendrils of desire thicken in him, flowing rapidly in his bloodstream. 

“What do you wanna eat for breakfast?” you ask, and there’s something dangerous about your eyes now, mingling with the light and joy, dimming it little by little. He likes it so much, likes your question all the more, that he props his elbows on his knees and hooks his fingers around the back of yours, thumbs fondling the round bones. 

The way his boxers don’t even cover the apex of your thighs, having ridden up so high—he stifles the hiss rising in his throat. They suit you so much he might let you keep them. That is, after he ruins them. 

“You,” he murmurs, smirking, and you grin at him so luminously that the speed of his bloodstream slows down. Suddenly, the movement of your hand as you set your cup down is in slow motion—your fingernails provoking him by lightly scratching down his forearms, too. You study his tattoos as you do it, your gaze darkening fully. 

You root them at the place, where he’s holding you. Palms flat against the back of his hands. Lean closer to him until you nudge your nose against his. The close proximity will always mess him up, no matter what. He feels himself bespangled by your light, by your celestiality, bringing in the heat until it’s all he knows. 

You. 

“What if I want to eat you first?” you whisper, head angling to kiss him on his jawline. Oh, he’s already done for; body charged with electricity all over. Your mouth closes over that bone so, so slowly, your tongue licking over that place in the same tempo, causing the hair on his body to stand up to attention. 

“Eat what?” He laughs through his nose and you take after him—your giggles a warm rumble that sends tingles down his back, even though all his body longs to do is whimper for you. He knows what you meant, but he simply wants to hear you say it. The memory of the way you rubbed your face in such a private part of him, not just once—but twice, floods his brain and he’s so hard for you that it’s unbearable. 

If he doesn’t get his release any time soon, he might combust. 

He’d much rather it happens in your mouth. Like it did in the dressing room last night. Oh, fuck. Those winged fuckers are going at it again in his stomach, bringing about his madness for you. 

“Your nose first, then your dick.” 

It’s now that he lets out that sound—he can’t help it, can’t hold it back. Might need that cigarette of yours, even though he only smokes casually. This is what you do to him. 

And you like that sound. You like it so much that you rise to your feet, only to straddle him. And, leaning back, he pushes you towards him until you’re flush against his body. To make you feel how aroused he is for you, your little pussy sitting against his imprint. At the feeling of it through such a thin barrier, you press your hum over his nose, kissing the ball of it with a sweet, soft giggle. His madness evolves into a frustration again and he wonders at the whole concept of it. Now that he has you all to himself, his sexual need for you tends to be on such a raging base, full of yearning, full of frenzy. So intense, so thunderous, so deafening. The world might break apart, fall upon every head with its destruction, if that need remains unfulfilled. 

It’s spine-chilling. Absolutely petrifying. And irrevocably thrilling with all its bolts of power. 

He kneads your bum with both of his hands, unraveling that melodramatic concept of his titillation for you with the strength he uses to squeeze your flesh with. Jungkook goes as far as to lift you onto your knees, raise the fabric of his boxers to reveal your skin and, holding it taut in his fist, he wetly kisses the red imprint of his hand that he left behind. 

And his need flutters with something still yet forbidden. 

Yours does, too. And it’s you who voices it out, setting it free like a bird that has been caged for centuries. It touches him, immensely—a deep sea of feelings resurfacing in him, sloshing to and fro, threatening to spill over. 

“Spank me.” 

Lust and love. A peculiar concoction of it that doesn’t exist in the realm of words. He feels it, feels it with every breath he takes. 

“I should, right?” he rasps, dragging his fingernails down your carmine bum, sneaking his fingers around the squishy bottom of the flesh. He might drench his joggers—he didn’t wear his boxers to sleep; you’re wearing them for him. “For wanting to bite my nose off.” He clicks his tongue, squeezing, other hand wraps around your waist, holding you still. “I should spank you until it hurts. Until you cry.” 

The most gentle of a moan spouts out of your mouth and he twitches, his need growing—all because you want it as much as he does.

Jungkook lifts his hand in a promise he’s about to do it and you shiver in anticipation. 

“Please,” is all you say, but he’s not going to give it to you. He places his hand back in a soft manner, lifting it again to tease you and you wiggle your butt, his boxers still tucked halfway in between, the flesh rippling and he groans. A sight to die for. “I deserve it. Please, do it. I want it.” 

He sighs, a wet spot forming in the place of the joggers where his tip is, and he can’t see anything. Can’t see shit when he lifts you up and takes you inside. Can’t see anything but you and the surface of his kitchen island, which he sets you down on, spreading your legs. 

Confused by the swift motion, you rise to your elbows, but he pushes you right back down—holding your hips in the air, just like he did last night. You will see what he’s about to do to you, nonetheless. No need for you to strain your arms. 

And when he closes his mouth over your clothed pussy, you roll your eyes back, moaning his name so loudly that it echoes throughout the kitchen, rooting around his dripping length. And his arousal for you is so overwhelming, so sensitive that one thrust of his hips against the fabric of his joggers brings him such pleasure coursing through his body that he might as well come like this. 

Jungkook rids you of his boxers in a blink of an eye, throwing them somewhere out of his sight. No need for them, either. 

Burying his nose in your clit as he licks your slit and plunges his tongue inside, he narrows his eyes at you as yet another wave of pleasure comes down upon him. This time from having you for breakfast, at last. You mewl so sweetly that it drives him to thrust his hips again and he groans, groans so deeply for you. Needs you to know what you’re doing to him. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me one day,” he breathes out, lightly dragging the tip of his tongue across your clit before he swallows, hissing at the delight of your taste. You moan, trembling, barely able to take it. Fuck one day, he’s about to die now. “And you’re gonna make me come in my pants like a fucking boy. Is that what you want?” 

Jungkook flicks your bud, fleetingly, just to make your sounds shudder in the sudden intensity. You clench your small fists in the air, your tremor so terribly visible and rigorous, and with your breath hitching in your throat, he sucks that delicious part of you into his mouth. 

You stammer, badly enough that he begins to feel a sliver of pity for you, not enough for him to stop. He’s ravaging your little princess parts so hard that it takes a few tries for you to get the words out in a steady flow and he doesn’t help you. Doesn’t ease up for you, at all. Flicking, sucking, licking you up all over, rolling his tongue—he simply doesn’t stop, does it so fast that you lose yourself in it, submitting to it with all your being. 

And along with your submission come out your words. 

In perfect fashion.

“No, I want to suck you off.” 

And along with those your orgasm, too. 

Jungkook watches you take it, eyes lidded heavily, take all the pleasure he gives to you as it unfolds throughout your quivering body that he holds tightly in his grasp so you wouldn’t fall over. He sucks your clit until his mouth goes numb, opening it to drink you, not letting a drop of your nectar go to waste. You struggle to reciprocate the eye contact and he finds it so endearing that he wants to make you come all over again. 

Setting you down, he caresses your wet little pussy with his thumb, palm spread wide across his tank top clothing your tummy. And while you try to catch your breath, he sends rays of his affection down to her the more he looks at her. He loves her so much that he bends down and kisses her. Over and over. Kisses the hickey he left on your left fold, the one below your hip bone as well. And then, he glances at you. Flushed and glowing, a personification of light. A girl most satisfied. So beautiful.

You sit up and the feeling of the coldness of the marble against your sensitive seashell makes you let out a whine, biting your lip briefly before you enclose it around his. You moan into the kiss and Jungkook knows why. He deepens it, hands drifting down your full breasts, your stiffened nipples. The touch makes you hum and grind your pussy against the island, opening your mouth. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, playing with you, beckoning out your mouth-watering little whines. And when his fingers reach the hem of his tank top, he takes it off of you—your breasts bouncing, the wet spot in his joggers enlarging. 

In this position, you’re forehead to forehead. And this time, he doesn’t want to kiss you. No, he wants to talk. 

“You taste good, don’t you?” Jungkook husks, an allusion to the way you moaned into the kiss, fists on either side of your outstretched thighs. You bite your lip and furrow your brows, a hand sneaking around his neck. Such horny expression, scraping his madness raw. He’s greedy for more; wants to bleed for you. “Tell me. Tell me how good you taste.” 

You sink your teeth so hard into your bottom lip at his words that you whimper once you let go, the pillow so reddened, so cute. The wrinkle between your brows deepens and you grind your hips again. Oh, he’ll put his hand there, on your still needy pussy, as soon as you answer him. 

And you do—and his whole bloodstream lines with a river of flames.

“I taste so good,” you whine and he rewards you for your goodness, for that heat. Places his fingers flat underneath your clit, palm up. You immediately roll your hips forward and whisk your eyes back. That sensitive you are, after such an intense orgasm. He swears. Takes it as a sign to rub your bud and, pushing them back with one hand, he gathers your slick and smears it upon it, making it all the more pleasurable for you. Gusts of breaths emit out of your mouth, intertwining with the squeaky sounds of your juices and Jungkook almost drools, aching to eat you out all over again. The feeling of your parted lips, your slipperiness, the softness of your swollen bud—he grows desperate for it. 

But he wants you to come like this, too.

“Ride my fingers,” he whispers, just for you to hear and not the angels surrounding him, whose favor he gained. “Come on. Grind your pussy on them, sweetheart.” 

You mewl and you listen, straightening your spine. Use his shoulders for stability as you swing your hips back and forth. The silkiness of your flesh, the wetness that makes this a smooth ride for you—he moans, sucking in his breath each time. And then you become so terribly whiny, eyes squeezed tight, that he can’t help but to strum your clit as fast as he can. Your shudders begin again, your breasts rippling and he just thinks they’re asking for his tongue. 

A flick of the muscle on your nipple. You cry out, arching your back, halting the movement of your pelvis and he takes over. Takes merely a minute to make you come all over his hand and scream out his name. 

And then… then he grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you in—almost nose to nose. A gesture to make you listen. To make you pay attention to the words he wants to say to you. 

“This is what you deserve,” he purrs, speaking of the former mention of punishment, studying the way your eyes grow bigger than they already are. “To come again and again for me—and what’s more, I’m not finished with you yet. That wasn’t your last orgasm.” 

You mewl and it seems that it’s all that you’re capable of uttering, the clitoral orgasm stealing all of your vocabulary. 

Or at least he thought so. 

“But I want you to spank me,” you say, your voice a satiny softness. “I want it so bad that I’ll do anything for it.” 

Jungkook doesn’t know what’s more stimulating—whether the beauty of your strength or the sinfulness of your craving. The flames in him reach higher highs, burning his skin in a way that unfussily forces him to give you what you want; give in to you, surely and wholly.  

“Is that so?” 

You nod, leaning over and closing your mouth over the side of his neck, sucking the skin, making his eyes roll back. And when you begin to focus on his ear, your fingers sinking in his hair, he truly just might submit to that specific craving of yours, even though he wanted to save it for the cabin. 

He might just give you a taste of it now. 

It looks like you’re ready for it, but if he finds that your healing is incomplete, he’ll take care of you, undo the wrongness, distract your thoughts and fold your emotions into a cocoon of his love. 

Pulling you away from him, he lifts you off the island and bends you over it. You giggle in triumph and the dulcet sound falters once he brushes your hair back and, pressing his length against your bare bum, he reciprocates the same treatment you gave to him. He doesn’t destroy your neck more than he already has—he barely has any space left to scatter it with hickeys and he doesn’t wish to cause you discomfort. No, he mouths your ear and kisses the very unmarked skin beneath it, nibbling it ever so gently. 

It’s only when you circle your hips against him that he rips that gentleness away and bites, making you groan out. 

“So that’s what my sweetheart wants,” he breathes, hands drifting to the crooks of those hips, right where your thighs begin, cooling the flames he spat onto that sensitive spot of yours. “Pain.” 

The collision of his palm against your cheek is what steals your breath and you whimper in elation. 

“Oh, fuck yes.” 

He does it again, a bit harder this time, just to hear those delectable words, just to make sure you’re comfortable, rubbing your skin to soothe the sting. And when you pinch your nipples and moan, he gets on his fucking knees for you. Such a good girl; a strong angel.

At your ever persisting service. Eternal. 

Spreading you apart, he catches your dripping slick with his tongue and pushes it back inside, thumbing your other tiny hole—pulling away momentarily to spit on it, smearing the lubrication there before circling it. Jungkook hears the soft thud of your head slumping against the kitchen island and you take it, take his abuse so well that he rewards you by flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit. Over and over until there’s another thing he hears. 

He hears your phone ring. 

His stomach drops. He knows full well who’s calling. And you prove his deduction right. 

“It’s Yoongi,” you sigh, a bit of vexation evident in your voice, and Jungkook buries his face in your pussy, humming into her, purposefully. “Vi-video calling me yet ah-a-again. Oh, fuck.” 

Pleased, he laughs. “Let it ring.” Doesn’t give two shits that he’s calling, but is a little annoyed that he keeps bothering you. 

It doesn’t lessen his fire, though. 

“But.” He withdraws to let you talk. Doesn’t take his eyes off of the glistening of your flesh. “If I tell him off and if he sees what you’re doing to me, he’ll stop calling me.” 

His fire thickens, thrilling tendrils absorbing it. Very well. “Such a smart girl. Go for it, then.” He punctuates his sentence with a curt spank and you jump, rising onto your tippy toes as you curl your back, moans echoing. He caresses your legs all over, mouth latching over your slightly reddened cheek. Thinks it’s a perfect place for another hickey. And as he sucks the supple skin, he sinks a finger inside your heat, your walls welcoming him in. 

You answer the phone with a moan. “I’m busy.” 

You’ve placed your hand to the edge of the island, so Jungkook has a perfect view of what’s currently happening. You’ve hidden your squished breasts behind your forearm—like you did the first time he’d laid his eyes on you via Yoongi’s phone. How the tables have turned is so mind-boggling to him that it drives him to twirl circles on your other tiny hole, eating your ass with such verve that you can’t contain your sounds, especially not when he begins to caress your sweet little spot with his curling fingers. 

Your legs begin to shake. 

Yoongi calls you by your name. “What the fuck is this?” 

“W-what does it look like?” you retort, grinning, looking back at Jungkook, catching his glance. He sends you rays of his love, eyes crinkling, the tip of his tongue finally penetrating inside. “I’m getting my ass eaten and you’re—” You suck a breath in, trying your hardest to remain calm and not succumb to the pleasure. Jungkook worsens it for you; he syncs his finger and his tongue, fucking you in one fast rhythm in both holes at the same time, and your stammer returns. “You-you’re disturbin’ me, oh fuck.” You pant, heavily, letting go of your phone and scratching your nails down the surface, trying to grab onto something, anything. Jungkook hums, endearingly, and catches both of wrists in his hand at the small of your back. Seeing you bound like this, bound in pleasure mainly, while on the phone with your ex-boyfriend almost makes him come in his fucking pants. “I don’t want to fucking come looking at your face. I’m not on your timeline, stop calling me.” 

Oh, Jungkook wouldn’t even let you—and the reason why he intensified your pleasure was to spite your ex-boyfriend. It seems as though it worked because Yoongi remains silent, at loss for words in most probability, and you consider your job done, tugging up your arm. 

“Let me hang up,” you whisper to him and Jungkook loosens his fingers for you, the sound of the call ending etching a smirk on his face. 

He straightens his form and, turning you around, he pins you against the island, his smirk only widening. The love, the proudness he carries in his heart for you, the freedom that oozes out of his every pore—he uses it to kiss you, tenderly. Fights hard to stifle his grin, to mold his lips into yours, but to no avail. You mirror his expression of joy, looking up at him, both of your wrists back in his hold behind your back. 

“You took your spanks so well, enjoyed them,” he murmurs his praise, his other hand clasping around your binding. “Didn’t even think once about the past. And to top it all off, you basically told your ex-boyfriend to fuck off. Moaned your lungs out. I’m in awe,” he continues, his voice dropping an octave lower, meaning every word. “I’m in awe of you. What a good girl you are. The best.”

The glint in your irises bursts and spreads all around, your eyes becoming two lighthouses that gain a new instinct to bring him home, whatever form that might spur into. You blush for him, taken aback by his praise, and your lashes flutter so prettily that he grows weak in the knees. His reactions are constant, never-changing when it comes to you and he finds so much beauty in them, in you that he feels as though it’s golden sand in his fingers and all he longs to do is finish his job like you did. You rouse the inspiration in him—you always have.

And listening to his body, he stumbles back into his former position. On his knees for you, at your ever fucking eternal service. And he makes you come with his fingers stuffed in your heat and his tongue flicking your clit until your knees give out as well and he has to take you then and there. Against the window on the other side, your pleasured body embraced, almost, by the golden aura that spills from the sunlight. And he opens it out, stretches it, with every word that trickles out of his mouth and into yours with every swift stroke. A bunch of rays of ‘You’re mine’, ‘My pretty, tight pussy’ and ‘Good girl, take it all, it’s all yours’ permeate your skin, lighting you up from beneath and when you come around his cock, your light doesn’t fade into his and leave you barren. No, it melts, a conscious, ever-flowing stream, into him and soaks him up. It’s still one singular light, but in two bodies. 

And the two loads he filled you up with caused weariness to drop so heftily on you that he bathed you in the tub. Scrubbed you clean. Washed your hair. Made you smell like him. Was extra careful when touching the hickeys he left behind on your body, the other unmarked parts of you handled with similar care. 

He didn’t even forget about your candle. Borrowed them your shared light and you kissed him quite sweetly for it. 

Even when he dressed you in his clothes. A pair of old baggy jeans that don’t fit him anymore and the same white tank top, a clean one, fragrant with the wholeness of summer he will perpetually connect with you. You pecked him so cutely when he tapped your waist, signaling that you’re all done. He knows it was the deepest thank you that you could’ve ever expressed to him. And he hugged you, hugged you so tight that you merged into him, bunching your wet hair in his fist. 

It didn’t dry up until he parked by the cabin. Having curled into winsome waves, he couldn’t stop touching them when he lead you towards the front door and, most peculiarly, it ached when he had to let go in order to unlock the door. 

His clinginess to you constringes the longer he spends time in your presence and because you’ve graced him with such freedom, he doesn’t mind. Not one bit. You show no signs of being irritated by it and it causes him to think that, perhaps, when God made you, He put some mechanism in you that needs it. Just like he planted those roots of clinginess in him—for no one else but you to receive, to carry, to take care of. 

It’s what he thinks about when he makes you lunch while you smoke on the balcony, having finished with the fresh drinks you made for yourself and him. Elderberry with lemon and ice, with funky, colorful straws once again left behind by the past tenants, ready on the dining table. This time you will actually sit down to eat and Jungkook won’t get kissed on the face by the strong knuckles of his once-close friend. 

An emotion stirs within him as he flips the meat on the small indoor grill. Tears prick in his waterline because despite the fact he enjoyed spiting him, he still wonders how he’s handling this. Mourns the loss. Probably will for some time. There’s a certain freshness to it that won’t let go of him. 

Those liquid feelings almost dissipate when you wrap your arms around him from behind and kiss his spine. He’s not matching you that much—is wearing the only clean laundry he had. A white oversized tee, a zipper hoodie of the same color with jeans. But he feels the love you press onto his back as if your lips touch his bare skin, singing the two layers through and through. 

Jungkook reckons you’re saving him as you’re lingering there with your face buried between his shoulder blades. Saving him from spilling. 

“I can’t wait to visit the pond once we’re finished with our food,” you murmur and Jungkook hums in response, placing the rest of the meat onto a plate. 

“It’s done, we can eat now,” he croaks out, his voice touched by the residue of his emotions and you rub his belly with your hands. He smiles, fondly, at the gesture. You just keep on saving him.

“Do you think the water is cold?” 

Considering the rain that would not leave for days, the water is anything but suitable for swimming. And when he turns around, he meets your mischief, playfully toying with your features. A curled smirk, lifted brows, light flickering in your eyes, reflected in your lashes. He might let you dip your toe in. Just one. 

Only because you depict such distinct beauty and he can’t resist it. Can’t resist you, even if he tried his hardest. 

“Too cold,” he says, however. Just as playfully. “Freezing.” 

Helping him with the plates, you sit down to eat and before you dig in, you thank him once again in the form of a peck. Oh, he might spill, ultimately. In a much different way. Melt into liquid love for you—a putty at your disposal. He’s never come across someone as sweet as you. 

“My sweetheart, enjoy your food.” 

A sliver of comfortable silence hangs in the air as you finish your food and once he downs the drink you made for him, a different type of hunger itches in his throat. 

A hunger for a cigarette. 

He watches you as you take his plate and bring it into the kitchen, never forgetting to at least graze one part of your body as you depart away from him, his clinginess a full blown, ceaseless stream and when you come back to him and take his hand, he remains seated. Looks up at you. Is probably giving you a nasty set of puppy eyes, he can’t tell. Doesn’t really care. Interlocks his fingers with yours and brings your knee in between his. Just because. 

“You know what I want right now?” he says, stroking the back of your thigh, and you smile down at him all excitedly. “A cigarette.” 

You squeal and he didn’t expect such sound to come out of you, such display of joy at such mindless thing. You quiver, taking his other hand and pulling him to his feet. Grab your pack and lighter and drag him out to the balcony. 

And with a cigarette of your own hanging from your lips, you sink the butt of the spare one between his, your lighter ready in your hand, flicking it to life. Then, a sudden gust of wind blows your hair in front of your face in a grand, sublime way, the clouds shrouding the sunlight, a layer of grayness dispersing across the atmosphere. Jungkook is mesmerized, completely, strands of your hair tickling your cheeks as you focus on lighting his cigarette, such serious expression coating you. 

He almost forgets to suck on the cigarette when you cup the lighter, protecting the flame from the breath of the autumn slinking in. How can someone be so beautiful, so caring? He could’ve lighted up his hunger himself, but no—you wanted to do it. 

And because of that, he steals your cigarette and grabs your cheek in one hand, careful not to break it. Taking a delightful drag, he opens your mouth and puffs it inside. Watches you swallow it down, your eyes narrowed in a foreign pleasure, and to reward you, he kisses you deeply. But at the taste of his hunger on your tongue, the kiss grows tempestuous. He devours your mouth, makes it puffy all over again, and something else grows hard in tandem. 

Something in his pants. 

And the way you kiss him back—he has to physically pull himself away from you in order not to take you right here, in order not to bend you over this railing and bury himself so deeply inside you that all the animals in the forest scurry away at the sound of your squeaks. Much, much different ones. 

His body tingles, looking at you panting, longs to kiss you again—bring that notion into reality. It’s not merely you who’s become aroused because one swift glance over your body clad in his clothes reveals that you have, too. Your stiffened nipples protrude through his tank top and he has to hold onto that railing and take a deep drag of his cigarette in order to stick to his composure like his life depends on it. 

Perhaps, it truly does. 

“You’re so fucking irresistible,” he comments, mirroring your former actions—placing the cigarette between your lips that willingly open for him, lighting it up. “It’s crazy. I can’t spend one minute in your presence without wanting to fuck you brainless. What are you doing to me, huh?” 

You blush, but he didn’t mean it as a compliment. Thinks he should change his ways and call you beautiful more often, so you learn what a true compliment is, despite the fact how hard he finds it. His lungs constrict, choking the life out of him that you gave him—an unfond memory clouding his sight.

A blond set of hair swishing past. A roll of eyes as he threw that compliment in her way. The dismissal that still lives in him.   

“You sure it’s me?” you retort, angling your head to the side, two fingers widening slightly as you suck on your cigarette. You tossed the memory away and cuddled his headspace. “Maybe you have a problem.” 

Oh, he remembers this feistiness of yours. Missed it, dearly. Makes his cock needy. Even more prominently so now—now that you clothed him in healing. 

“True, one taste of you and I’ve become a nymphomaniac,” he says with a mighty, peculiar easiness. Clicks his tongue. “I guess I should go to therapy.” 

Your blush deepens and you hide your laughter behind your busy palm. Jungkook shakes his head, not believing something like that could flush your face like this with such rosy, radiant color. He pulls you towards himself, squeezes your bum. Takes a drag, loving the burn in his throat. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, fondling the sweet color of your cheek with his thumb. The smoke from his cigarette curls around your wavy hair. “Do you even know how beautiful you are?” 

It’s you who shakes your head and you place your palm flat on his chest. A gasp leaves your mouth when he spanks you for your disagreement. Then, your mouth ends tip. 

Jungkook laughs, softly. “Run. And if I catch you, I spank you again. On your bare bum this time.” 

He pushes you and you squeal, turning on your heel and heading for the stairs down that lead to the pond. He could run after you to make you happy—it doesn’t matter he’s wearing his home slides. He’s danced with them, even barefooted, so this is no big deal for him. But he wants to give you the thrill of the chase, so, flicking his cigarette into the ashtray, right next to yours, he slides his hands into his front pockets and waits until you’re halfway there at the pond. Then, then, he slowly makes his way down. 

You’ve stopped, however. Half turned, you watch him as he chases you down Michael Myers style. And when he’s at arms-length distance away from you, you begin to run away and this time your feet acknowledge themselves with the wood of the dock that floats above the surface of the still water. There’s nowhere for you to go and he fears you’ll jump into the water. Or, maybe you just want to get spanked that badly. 

He’s about to find out. 

Gray shadows envelop you, choking out your squeals again when you see Jungkook running after you and you edge dangerously close to the end, bum leaning against the ladder going down. 

He lifts his palm, signaling you to stop right there. 

And you surprise him. You kick your feet into momentum and as you run and collide into him, you throw him into the water. 

The iciness of the water stings and his breath lodges in his throat, submerged. Paralyzation takes a hold of him, but not enough for his body to emerge to the surface. He rubs his eyes as he inhales deeply, shaking off the water from his hair like a dog, his eyesight slowly unblurring and he sees you laughing. The trees bend at the sound, sighing along and the wind, once again, stills. 

You even have the nature wrapped around your finger, not just him. And he can’t be mad at you, not when your girlish giggles spark up a joy in his heaving chest, ridding him of the coldness he feels. 

But that doesn’t mean he won’t punish you for it. 

You asked for it. 

He swims to the dock and pulls himself up. The ease he did it with, his wet clothes that cling to his body and accentuate his muscles, it causes your dulcet laughter to falter, little by little and you back away from him. 

That aches a tiny bit. He relaxes his face, in case that’s what drove you to do that and he unzips his hoodie, throwing it at your feet. His T-shirt comes next and you swallow, dryly, your eyes drifting along his pecs and abdominal muscles. 

You hiss at the cold sensation of his knuckles against the fine sliver of skin of your stomach, the dip between the hem of his tank and his jeans as he unbuttons them and harshly tugs them down. You let him, placing your hands on his shoulders once he kneels and lifts both of your feet, folding the denim and flinging it onto the pile of his sopping hoodie. Your socks and his boxers follow along, leaving behind only his tank top. 

Bunching it in his fist, he tightens his mouth in a narrow line and pulls you in. More to cover you from the cold than to soak you and he raises his palm until it levels with your shoulder blade before he spanks you. The slapping noise vibrates through the canopy of the trees and he likes to think the weeping willow in his peripheral vision trembled at the reverberations. 

“That’s for me catching you.” 

Another spank. On the other cheek. Just as hard. 

“That’s for the way you pushed me into the water.” You don’t make a sound, only tiny little breaths spill out of your mouth as your big eyes ogle his dripping face. Taking it so well that his cock, achefully, hardens even more. “All this fucking forest all around and you decided to get on here, on this dock. Push me in.” A spank. “In the freezing.” Another one. “Fucking water.” Another. 

You moan, swaying on your feet and he straightens you, grabs your wrist and wraps it around the nape of his neck. 

“And this.” Jungkook licks his fingers, sneaks them between your bodies and finds your clit, rubbing it rapidly. “This is for the way you enjoy it. Enjoy being spanked. Being punished. Enjoy being a bad little sweetheart.” 

You moan, a wrinkle between your brows, and your legs begin to quiver, your orgasm fast approaching. And the fire in him, created by your playfulness and his own words, he becomes it. Like you’re the personification of light, he’s the flames that keep it warm. An oxymoron most profound, most perfect, unseen by the world. 

He rips your orgasm away. Spanks you. Kneads your ass. You whine so terribly that it beckons his pity. Enough for him to creep his thigh in between yours, grasp your hips and make you ride it. 

“You wanted me wet, so get off on it,” he orders, unlatching his hands, taking off the tank top and fisting your hair, trusting you to hump him well enough on your own. “I know you like it cold, so grind that pussy on my thigh. And don’t stop until you come.”

It’s fast, the way you move your hips and bring yourself to the absorption of your climax. You look at him the whole way through and Jungkook nods with his bottom lip between his teeth, encouraging you to ride out the wave. 

“Good girl, coming so fast. Get on your knees.” 

He takes off his even more drenched pants. You wait for him with an open mouth and he senses the welcoming embrace of death. 

When he plunges his length into that salivating hole, it’s his fire that he feeds you. Despite the coldness, pearls of sweat adorn your forehead and Jungkook grips your hair and fucks your mouth, not letting you be in control, uttering his guttural moans lowly. 

“That’s what you get, my love.” 

You swallow around him in response and his life flashes before his eyes. Pictures of you, pictures of this cabin dressed in all of the seasons and he halts his thrusts. Pushes your head, instead. Back and forth until he can’t fucking take it anymore. 

Your spit trickles down onto the wood. Tears line your vision. Hard, shiny cock in your face. He tells you what he thinks of the sight. 

“So beautiful. Look at how hard and wet you made it. You deserved every inch down in that pretty throat of yours.” 

It’s a start. Still has a demon on his own to conquer, one that sits around somewhere deep in his chest, where a string of his past relationship makes dents in his lungs. One that he doesn’t want to admit he still has. One that he’s learned to forget about. 

But he is changing his ways. For you. 

You moan and scratch your nails down his thighs, the fire forming into an animal in you. A feral, little thing that knows what it needs. And he’s going to give it to you, mind already working on the forgetting. 

“I love your cock. It’s all mine.” You mouth it, glide your puffy lips upon its length and despite the pleasure he gets from it, he pushes you away. 

Straddles your hips. Turns you onto your tummy. Knows the personal cock time was too brief for you, but he can’t risk having his orgasm like this. 

“Yes, my love, all yours. And I’m gonna fuck that brain out of your head with it.” 

You mewl. “Yes, please.” 

In contrary to your words, you try to crawl away when he sinks himself inside, your nails making pretty music on the wood. He brings you right back to him. Presses you down flat with his hand on your back. All while still inside of you. You sputter out your moans and, licking his thumb, he circles your other hole, making them grow in volume. 

“No, sweetheart. Don’t run from it. You can take it. Believe in yourself the way I believe in you.” 

The strokes he gives you are hard, engraving your rose tattoos made of hickeys onto the dock and he realizes that’s exactly what he wants. He desires to have everything he owns smell like you, look like you and carry remnants, memories and keepsakes of you for generations to come. And so he fucks you not only harder, but faster. 

Thinks your back is awfully bare and missing the rest of the marks. 

Jungkook bites onto the skin above your shoulder blade and you catch him off guard. 

“Jungkook, I’m gonna come like this.” 

He hums, fondly. How quickly your walls have gotten used to accommodating him. “Not yet, my love.” 

Swiveling you, he hooks your knees onto his shoulders, sinking back into you this way—sinking back home. 

And it begins to rain. 

Jungkook hears the touch of the droplets upon the surface of the pond first before the same ones pelt down his back. And the briskness that affects him, the conjunction of an autumn kissed by the last of summer—it drives him to crush his lips onto yours with such vigor that he hopes the autumn, at the sight of it, will be here to stay, in all its wholeness. No more triggers of the past seasons. Newness, only. Singularity. 

He doesn’t carry you away from the rain. No, he hides you with his own body. Takes every hit from the ruthless downpour for every lash across your heart, for every scar etched for all eternity on its flesh. Hands cradling your head, the broadness of his back a cover for the top half of your body and you keep him there with your hands gripping his hair, holding on for dear life. It stimulates him enough to fuck you just as hard, imprinting the lines of the wood onto your back. 

Not so bare anymore. 

You could never be an empty canvas. Not with him. 

Not when you care for him in the midst of the pleasure. 

“Jungkook, ah, you’re go-gonna catch a cold.” 

He kisses you for it, terribly touched. “But it feels so good.” A languid stroke, the squelching of your pussy; he rolls his eyes back, sucking in a breath. “Come for me and I’ll get you inside.” 

He picks up the pace, seizing your pleasure. But then you start moving your hips up and down and he feels you fill up every dent in his heart with each movement, each moan, each squeeze of your walls. And when you make yourself come on his cock, he considers himself strong enough to tell you all about it later. 

Carrying you inside while hiding your head from the rain in the crook of his neck, he takes you up to his room and sets you down like the princess you are underneath the ivory canopy above his bed. Senses your irises digging little pursed pecks into his back as he rummages in his dresser, fishing out a pink bottle of lube and a dildo. Smaller than his length, but almost the same as his girth. Skin-like. With balls attached. 

He’s smirking as he swivels, joy evident on his face. He’s eager to watch you ride it and your two lighthouses for eyes divulge to him just as how excited you are yourself. 

You spread your feet for him once he’s an inch away from you, smiling from ear to ear. “Fuck me with it,” you purr, wrapping your legs around his torso. 

Even the most solemn man in the world wouldn’t be able to not grin at this moment. Too bad he wouldn’t let him near you. His heart pounds, aches to say no to you, but he simply wants to watch you ride it. 

“No, sweetheart. I want to watch.” 

You frown. “But you haven’t cummed yet.” 

He caresses your small pout and you kiss his thumb. His smile widens. “That’s okay.” He might be throbbing, but watching you bounce on a silicone dick will bring him a great deal of pleasure, nonetheless. 

“Then, touch yourself for me.” 

He hums, his heart lodged in his throat. The turning of tables must be in the script to this movie that he considers his life shared with you. And he likes it more than he’s able to comprehend amidst his intense arousal. 

“You have to ride it well, then.” 

You suck on his thumb momentarily, a smirk quirking your lips. “I’ll do my best.” 

“I know you will.” 

Pecking you shortly, he squirts a ton of lube on the dildo and all around your princess parts, rubbing your clit to tease you. The gasp you let out causes him to laugh softly in endearment and then…

Then, he leaves you to it. 

Sitting back in his rocking chair, he fists his cock, the leftover lube making a squeaky sound on his skin. You get on your knees, line yourself up and Jungkook tugs down his foreskin for you, allowing you to see the drops of his male essence oozing out. It turns you on to the point that you moan and bite your lip, sinking down on the toy and he’s breathless. 

“Fuck, it’s not as big as you,” you whine, sitting down on it, fully, maintaining eye contact with him. His heart thuds in harsh staccatos. “I barely feel anything.” 

A sly remark about your ex-boyfriend’s length is on the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back. Doesn’t want to ruin the moment. He’s not a constant presence. Not anymore. So why bring him back? 

And what’s more, you’re lying. Because when you begin to bounce, tentatively, your eyes whisk back and you pinch your nipples, the squelching sound of your pretty little pussy driving him to fuck his fist just once. He knows if he keeps going, he might miss the whole experience, plagued by the shadow of his pleasure. He palms his balls instead, his cock protruding from the crook between his fingers and his thumb. Still wet from you. 

“Harder,” he commands, squeezing his balls when you listen and he hisses, fights with all his strength not to flutter his eyes closed like his body is begging him to. He can’t miss this. It’s too good to miss. He bites down on his lip. 

“Jerk off that cock, please,” you plead, your breasts bouncing and he bites down harder, the fire in him burning off his skin. “It doesn’t feel as good when you don’t.” 

He swears and begins to move his hand, gliding up and down, pressure hard. “Are you imagining it’s me?” 

“Yes, oh my God. I’m riding you and it feels so fucking good, Jungkook.” 

He moans, focusing on his sensitive head. Tips his chin up. Doesn’t break the eye contact. “Good girl. You’re doing so well.” 

The praise gets to you and your fingers sneak to your clit, rubbing fast little circles—and just like that he nears to the edge. Whimpering for you, he fucks his cock harder. Hot flashes surround your flushed face and you mimic his sounds. 

That’s his very fucking undoing. 

Getting on his feet, he paints your breasts and tummy white and you begin to shudder, his orgasm coaxing yours. You pinch your little hard nubs—and it’s almost like you’re milking him dry, spurts after spurts making new tattoos on your torso, white roses to mingle with your red and purplish ones. 

And his woozy brain can’t help but to look forward to see them fade to yellow. 

He kisses you so hard that he doesn’t feel you breathe and when he pulls away, he collects his cum and feeds it to you. Can’t have it go to waste when he knows what he’s planning for you. 

“That was so good,” he whispers, sealing such an intimate moment with another ravenous kiss. 

He doesn’t let you respond—he pins you back. Ass up, face down. Squirts lube all over that deliciousness and when he glances over at the ruined dildo, he whistles. Pearls after pearls of your girlish essence trickle down the length and he shows it to you. Hard all over again. 

“That’s a good fucking girl,” he praises and your eyes widen in that familiar way he likes, mouth parting, blush deepening. “Stick out your tongue.” You listen, so fucking well, and he plunges the silicone tip inside your mouth, circling it around that willing muscle. “That’s it, lick it up, sweetheart.” 

You look up at him as you do it, making smacking sounds, so terribly fucked out. Jungkook has to grip your hair in order to hold on to the last of his composure, and when you begin to suck on it—he can’t take it anymore. 

He fucks you with it. Fucks you into the mattress. Punishing you for the things you do to him, for the fire that grows hotter and hotter in his veins. And he loves you, dearly, with the entirety of his being, that his fingers cannot physically stay away from your little sopping clit. 

Neither can they when you come and gush out your arousal. Neither can they when he switches the dildo with his cock, raises you in the air and fucks you so hard, whispering little praises and sweet little nothings—“I’m getting you used to taking it from behind, my love. You’re doing so good. You’re so beautiful. So damn pretty.”—that you and he both, completely and wholly, fall apart when you come together. 

He loves you dearly enough that he can’t stop falling apart even in the shower. 

He tells you of the demon living in his chest. 

“When we’re together, I feel you healing me. I feel you giving me chances to live on with my life, do the things I’m scared of or wary of. Like today, when you didn’t believe me when I’d told you you were beautiful. I felt that fear I had in me for years, but saying it to you made it seem like nothing. There used to be a girl I was in love with. Whenever I would tell her things like this, she’d scrunch up her nose. It wasn’t enough for her. Her pride was too big for my words. I kept giving and giving and it was never enough. But when I give to you, you take it and you live with it and I can see it on you. I can see you wear it proudly. I can even see it now. And it’s so beautiful. So healing.” 

You kissed his scars. Kissed his hands. His neck. Washed him clean. Hugged him under the hot downpour of the shower. Reminded him of the way he healed you. Told him all the small details he never knew—and it only proved his words, tightened his love for you. 

He knows from this moment on that you will be the mother of his children. He’s not letting you go. Not until the day he dies. 

And the first shower he shared with you… Jungkook sketched it down that very night as you and him sipped on wine, listening to music. And he brimmed with the longing to bring it onto a canvas. Splatter it with colors. Purples and reds, with tiny hints of yellow that are about to appear on your body. 

And he will. Hang it up in this very cabin. The eternal keepsake of the movie that his life has become. 

It has been several months of living this cinematic life with you. Weekends spent at the cabin, the weekdays spent separately, save for the regular dates. Dinners, trips, sight-seeing. A slow life filled with brand new art supplies, a pile of sketchbooks adorning the walls of his bedrooms. Both at his own apartment and the cabin. And another adornment has come to live with you and him, one of life-long permanency. 

He sealed your exclusive relationship with a matching tattoo. 

“Sweet” lines your left rib whereas “Heart” lines his—right above the mole you’ve come to love so much. Red ink, an illusion to your red roses, the dress you’ve worn for him on several occasions. Visiting him out of the blue in the middle of the week with black lingerie underneath and a trench coat to cover you up. Mindlessly at the cabin one weekend when drinking wine, smoking together on the balcony, listening to the whispers of the willow tree. And once on the last warm day of autumn, during which he paid you back for the way you had pushed him into the water of the pond. Just like he’d done the first time, he tossed you in, joining you right after, fucking you in the dress. He had eternalized it that very night, sitting by an easel. Paintings of you, some of both you and him, hang on the walls of the cabin. In the living room, in the bedroom. Everywhere one looks, one finds the scenes of your movie—and it brings him joy unlike any other. 

Yoongi… he hadn’t called you since that fateful day. You’d made the arrangements to see him after a month or so. Found out he was seeing a therapist. 

Quite literally. 

He’s banging his male therapist.

The information enveloped you in a dimmed glow. You were shocked, first and foremost, because you had no idea Yoongi liked men. Jungkook did, so it wasn’t a surprise to him—what was more of a groundbreaking surprise to him was the fact you didn’t know. That he never cared to tell you. 

And he never pushed it aside. As a matter of fact, he told him off about it the first time he saw him after everything. 

Yoongi cared very little because he considered the chapter finished. A similar light swathed him tautly, one he’d never seen on him, and Jungkook agreed. The chapter is finished. No need to get all hot again. 

Yoongi forgave him. Found love. Found healing. But he didn’t maintain his relations with you. Neither did he with Jungkook.

And while it hurt for a little while, Jungkook figured that maybe it was meant to be like this all along. 

He and you. A singularity. 

The nonexistent gap between the word sweetheart. 

No third party. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist

#jungkook x oc #yoongi smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot #yoongi x oc #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine

[yandere-sins]

Pssstt I have memes

The rest of TF141 when their lieutenant is flirting with a mercenary (KorTac Operator darling):

Ghost having TF141 asking him about his business with a KorTac operator:

König when his WORST NIGHTMARE (his precious platonic darling attracting another soldier) comes true:

You guys would be surprised how much I actually think about how TF141 would react to the whole yandere/darling situation of one or more of their members. Because enviroment is important for story building, and—at least for Ghost—I do think a lot of the situations happens around a military base/camp, so there never is full privacy even behind closed doors.

[Warning for Sexual Content, Drug Mention, Stalking Mention, Abuse of Authority]

If Price is the yandere, I think he mostly has the "superior" advantage, as in, he can just keep his darling around for the sake of having taken them "under his wing." He's done it before, and the others have probably experienced it themselves that Price just cares for his underlings. Even if not, there's nothing wrong with someone more experienced teaching the newer recruits, right? 

There's nothing wrong with him having the darling tail him, giving them orders, checking on them. Sure, it's kind of weird when their revision of plans takes until late at night in Price's room, but eh. That's how it is on the job, right? And Price is just being nice and joking around as he does with everyone. Even if the jokes are somewhat inappropriate, at least everyone is getting along! Nobody has to know the dirty mess he makes of you all night long, the hand beneath his glove bloody from your bites as he hides the screaming and moaning of his name with it. And you learn quickly to sit still while having dinner, no matter where the very same hand goes underneath the table. You don't want to be punished again.

If Ghost is the yandere, it's a bit more complicated—and at the same time, easier. It's less of an authority powerplay and more of a difference of strength between his darling and him. You can report him—honestly, Ghost is kind of into that (good reason to punish you later, hehe). But Price wouldn't do more to one of his star soldiers than a verbal slap on the wrist. Ghost cares so little about others' opinions that it makes him look innocent. You might struggle against him, and the others will call him out if he plays too rough with you at the table. Still, he does what he wants anyway, making it seem like a joke when he pulls you on his lap, only to let you jump off it again right away. He knows he won the struggle; you know he won the struggle. What do the others think? Just a tease between colleagues!

Even when you two get outed for your "relationship", the others are more likely to turn a blind eye. Hell, they might even gratulate and whistle. You might hate getting caught by the team in the shower with Ghost because he wouldn't let you do it alone, but it gets normalized so quickly that people are more confused when you slip away and do your own thing instead of being with Ghost. Honestly, his friends are happy for the big guy! You simply lost the popularity contest with Ghost. 

If Soap is the yandere, that's when things get interesting. Soap is slippery. He does his fair share of stalking, messing up your things, and imagining what it would be like if he could be with his darling officially. Even with his heart doing way too many beats when he's close to you, he tries to play it cool. He's charismatic enough to befriend you, and no one knows where your underwear really disappeared to. So, although everyone notices Soap being a bit... happier whenever you show up, they just shrug it off. Lad got a crush, they think.

And he does, and for the longest time, not even you know it. He makes sure you don't know it, slipping into your bed in the darkest hours of the night, kissing your neck and shoulder while he hopes you dream of him. Leaving your side reluctantly, but never too late so no one will notice him coming from your room. He crossed paths with Ghost once, but both were in a drowsy state, and Ghost didn't notice that it wasn't Soap's room that his friend just left. They only start getting suspicious when you mysteriously feel too sick for your training, and yet, they let Soap take care of you. Without any suspicions, they let him make you soup and visit your room freely, the crushed sleeping pills in his trouser's back pockets waiting to be used. 

#yandere ghost #yandere soap #yandere price #ghost cod #soap cod #price cod #ghost #soap #price #yandere talk #yandere #cod #call of duty #yandere cod #yandere call of duty #yandere!cod #yandere!call of duty #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

[owlcomics101]

”Pup Cup.” Task force 141 x Dog hybrid!reader

Warnings: Sfw (I am a minor), fluff, swearing/cussing, Doggo shenanigans

To say you were spoiled would be an understatement. Granted you were a great dog hybrid. Despite being a golden retriever/human hybrid to which are rarely to not used at all in the military. Yet here you are, the rare ray of sunshine in task force 141. Your tail always wags when someone walks by or even glances at you. Military dog hybrids don’t usually like or play fetch but your OBSESSED with it. After missions there’s always a tennis ball in your mouth. Which annoys the hell out of everyone if there’s a squeaker in it but they never have the heart to take it from you, but out of everything there was one time during an undercover mission Soap gave you a “Pup cup” from a Starbucks you and him were at (basically whipped cream in a small cup). Ever since then, every time the team drove by a Starbucks you would go absolutely ballistic! Today was no different. The team was just wanting a little ‘pick me up’ from Starbucks to help get their day going on the way to base. You were sandwiched between Soap and Ghost. Your tail wagging like crazy and slapping Ghost repeatedly which was clearly pissing him off. Soap on the other hand couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as Ghost grabs your tail to get you to stop.

“Y/N! Calm yourself.” Ghost said with a clear scowl on his face behind his mask. You couldn’t help but let out an audible yip when he grabbed your tail.

“Sorry lieutenant.” You mumbled before your ears perk up when you heard Price start order the team’s drinks at the drive through. Price squints his eyes as he looks at the menu before clearing his throat.

“Yes, can I get a—Y/N sit down!” You were trying to poke your head out to the front where Gaz and Price were sitting. Price trying to push you back with his hand before Ghost pulls you back by the shoulders.

“Sit.” Ghost says sternly before looking over and glaring at Soap.

“This is what you get for bloody spoiling them Johnny!” Ghost snaps. Soap scoffs with an eye roll.

“I was just doing it to blend in during that mission. It was one time-“

“One time too many!” Ghost interrupts Soap before Price looks over his shoulder to them.

“Will all you muppets shut up? I’m trying to order!” Price snaps before turning back to the window. Gaz watches you out of the corner or his eyes, seeing the pitiful look on your face.

“Ignore them Gaz or they’ll never learn.” Price says sternly, but Gaz keeps glancing at you every now and then still. The look on your face making his chest feel heavy before he looks away trying to distract himself with his phone. Until he accidentally glances at you before cussing under his breath.

“God dammit-“

“I said stop bloody looking at them Gaz!” Price says before accidentally looking at you himself. You sat there with very sad and watery puppy dog eyes. The water in your eyes making your eyes sparkle a bit from the light’s reflection. Price clenched his fists as he looks away trying t compose himself. He shouldn’t reward such behavior, but this has been the only time you have been out of line. Ghost looks down at you, almost guilty for telling you no-

“Don’t fall for it Simon!” He thinks to himself., he knew it was just the affects of your ‘puppy dog eyes’. Then you started to whimper.

“No, no, no, NO! Don’t beg Y/N!” Price tried to be tough but his tough guy exterior was already cracking. You look at Gaz and he quickly tries to look away.

“Don’t you look at me like that!” Gaz hides himself behind his cap. Soap couldn’t take it anymore. He was fidgeting with his fingers anxious, this felt like pure torture to him before he finally snaps.

“Goddammit-just give them what they want Cap’n!”

“No! I will not reward begging! We do not beg! We are soldiers goddammit!” Price grips the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white. He forced himself to look away but you just kept quietly whimpering to yourself until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“GOD FOCKING DAMM-“

You were licking out of your small pup cup, holding it with both your hands, your face completely covered in whipped cream as Ghost every now and then wiped off. Your tail was wagging from pure happiness and bliss but Ghost doesn’t stop it because deep down. He’s secretly enjoying it. Price was visibly pisssd but not at you, more at himself for giving into your ‘puppy eyes’. Gaz was quietly sipping his drink as Soap stroked your head. You have won.

#cod #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #soap x reader #captain price x reader #task force x reader #task force 141 #task force

[cerise-on-top]

Unfortunately, Tumblr glitched out again and I didn't receive your second ask either! However, I got the notification per e-mail, which is why I took a screenshot of it, hope that's alright! @houseoftitans

Price, Ghost and König with a Mercenary!Reader

Price: He understands why you’re doing this, it’s a pretty solid reason too. However, he will ask you, is it really the right thing to do? You could die at any point and your siblings would be left alone yet again. He won’t stop you, even if it’s plainly obvious you don’t really want to work that job, since money is important. Besides, it’s not like he can talk, he’s selling his own body to the military as well. But unlike you, he doesn’t have anyone waiting for him at home. You’re a competent mercenary, that much is true, but if you ever want to do something else, I’m sure he can find something for you. Hell, I know that he’d offer too. He knows plenty of positions that are a bit safer that also pay well. Maybe not as well as being a mercenary, but it’s money regardless. It would be a real shame to watch you waste away in a job you hate above all else. Once you’re close enough, he might offer to help you out financially, but it’s all up to you whether or not you accept his help. He really doesn’t mind, though.

Ghost: He understands what you’re going through, he would have done the same for his younger brother. But is this really what you want to do for the rest of your life? Or until the day you’re killed? While he won’t try to talk you out of it, it’s clearly your own business, he will hint at there being other options as well. He knows a few people who could get you in just about anywhere you want, there’s really no need to wear yourself down with this job you hate. However, if you ever were to need anything from him, regardless of whether it’s some money or just someone looking after your younger siblings for a bit, he’ll do it. He may seem rough around the edges, but he does have a soft spot for younger siblings, especially when they’re suffering. He’ll offer to find a solution together with you. After all, who would take care of your siblings once you’re gone? He doesn’t always have the time to do so either and just giving them to random people doesn’t seem like the ideal either. He’d much rather have you live above all else, and, of course, be happy while you’re at it.

König: At first it may seem like he doesn’t care at all. But that’s not particularly true, he just doesn’t know what to say. He wants to help you and be there for you, but he doesn’t want to overstep your boundaries, so he may come off as uncaring at first. He has no idea at all what you’re going through with your siblings, he’s an only child himself and his parents are off well enough, so he doesn’t really have many worries, aside from the usual. But I don’t think he could even help you all that well, the military and being a mercenary is all he’s ever known. He doesn’t know very many people either since he mostly just keeps to himself, so it’s not like he could offer you a better job either. But if you ever need anything from him, he’ll do it. Doesn’t matter what it is. You need money? You need someone to take care of them? You need something else? Granted, it might seem a little bit awkward at first, but he’s being sincere when he says so. In fact, I could see him taking on a few extra jobs himself just so he could help you provide money. He’s good enough at his job, plus you seem like you could use a small break from it all.

#cod #cod x reader #john price #john price x reader #price x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #könig #konig #könig x reader #konig x reader #sorry these are so short I didn't know what to write ^^; #also I don't write fem readers anymore! just so you know in the future!

[jarviscockerssecrethusband]

What I have chosen to do instead of starting my history/film studies essay

Billy Hargrove is a deeply complicated character who was born of two white mens’ want to get out of the very real and valid accusations of racism following the way they wrote Lucas’s character in series 1. However, because this is fandom and The Duffers, there is a tendency to simplify him. And that is fucking boring. This is why (in a very brief form) Billy Hargrove acts the way he does from the perspective of history, politics and sociology.

(Discussing topics less touched on because analysis of Billy in relation to queerness or abuse have been done FAR better than I would explain them)

Even just his name tells us a lot about him as a character. The surname Hargrove originates in Cheshire, in the north west of England. Based on historical context, the Hargrove’s likely moved from Cheshire to Liverpool sometime after 1770, looking for work in Liverpool’s ports, possibly making the move to America sometime post 1850. His mothers side are very clearly Catholic, possibly Irish-Americans. And the first name Billy is a traditional blue collar, working class name. Probably coincidental but a name popular in Liverpool.

Neil and the absolute piece of steaming shit that he is fits in chronologically with the rise of Californian conservatism in the 1960s and 1970s, and the “plain folk” stance that politicians like Nixon took in order to appeal to the white working to upper working class. This type of plain folk outlook blamed both the upper class from the north but also relied on the racist and classist politics of blaming African Americans and those in poverty for all societal ills.

Significantly, Billy in canon was living through a time of globalisation where exposure to the international was becoming more accessible than it had ever been. Just though watching the news it would have been easy to become disillusioned. The Troubles, Brazil’s military dictatorship, The Miners Strike, Israel’s colonisation of Palestine, Cold War propaganda, the AIDS pandemic. It would be very easy to drop into a counter culture subculture.

Do we have any proof that he cared about these issues? Not really. Do we have any proof that he DIDN’T care about these issues though- I’m going to say no to that as well.

Billy represents a more demonised figure than both Eddie and Jonathan for one simple reason though. He is the most stereotypical portrayal of a working class man. Jonathan and Eddie both have tangible connections to interests read as more middle class but Billy’s hyper masculinist presentation and relationship with his car makes him the perfect Proletariat villain.

In relation to why it is so popular to hate Billy in comparison to literally every other character in stranger things, even Neil and Karen, who were objectively terrible people, there could be a lot of different reasons.

One thing is undoubtedly true though.

You can’t ignore Billy Hargrove

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fandom #fandom character analysis

[queenwille]

is it finally time to reveal that one of the main reasons hamas took the chance on october 7th was a political crisis in israel?

i’ll try to make it short for my ADHD sibs in the crowd:

israel had a really tough political crisis between 2019 to 2022, where no elected leader was able to gather a government (men) under the israeli democratic requirements, so it led to 5 elections in 4 years 🫨

when finally netanyahu managed to build a coalition by selling his dignity and the israeli soul to religious extremists (as he always does since he only cares about being on top, no matter what) the very large secular and left public in israel were having non of that.

forward a few months, the extremist criminal members of the coalition tried to pass an absence law that takes the grand jury’s power to overrule the government if needed, which fired up protests and manifests literally EVERYWHERE. public facilities closed down as an act of rebellion, roads were blocked and much more. Galant, the minister of defense, said publicly that the gov really needs to freeze the passing of that law due to valid concerns about the country and its citizens’ safety. due to that comment, netanyahu publicly announced that he’d be firing galant for going against the government’s current agenda. oh boy, the night that happened, all hell broke loose. people literally shot the country down until the late late hours of the night. the lack of freedom of speech was a serious deal breaker (reminder: they have been protesting HARD for W E E K S). many were on reserved duty (it’s when they complete their mandatory service, but come every once in a while for a few days of duty like training or backup and in case of a war, they need to report back to duty when they’re up to date and well trained) said they wouldn’t come to their scheduled duty days under a government that is extremist, not equal (ultra orthodox don’t have to serve as the rest) and doesn’t allow freedom of speech. it was a whole thing, netanyahu changed his tune real fast. you need to understand that for israelis to rebel against their duty is extreme af. military service in israel is mandatory and a valuable part of the soldiers’ culture and identity, it’s not a just job they chose like in many countries.

BACK TO THE AGENDA. hamas documents and recordings revel that they were very much aware of the ongoing civil (and military) crisis and mentioned it as a perfect opportunity to hurt israel.

many of you think that when we identify with the word zionist, it means we agree with everything. the main thing y’all cancel when you call israelis white colonialists, it’s first the rich and diverse population it has. are all christians alike? do all muslims think the same? why is it that when it comes to the jewish people, everyone is so quick to assume we’re all clones? judaism itself has a few ethnicities which is very much a topic on the israeli agenda since like forever. and then you have, as any other religion, religious people and then secular and then people who are in between. that’s all before you mention the 2.5m non jews living in israel.

TL;DR no, not only not all israelis support netanyahu, but you’d actually be surprised how many oppose to his egocentric regime. take the time and ask, don’t just take the easy way out of goysplaining.

#and don’t get me started on the financial trail awaiting for netanyahu’s immunity as prime minister to wear off #ASK DONT ASSUME ITS DISGUSTING #israel #jumblr #antisemitism #zionisim

[signalburst]

Shōgun Historical Shallow-Dive: the Final Part - The Samurai Were Assholes, When 'Accuracy' Isn't Accurate, Beautiful Art, and Where to From Here

Final part. There is an enormous cancer attached to the samurai mythos and James Clavell's orientalism that I need to address. Well, I want to, anyway. In acknowledging how great the 2024 adaptation of Shōgun is, it's important to engage with the fact that it's fiction, and that much of its marketed authenticity is fake. That doesn't take away from it being an excellent work of fiction, but it is a very important distinction to me.

If you want to engage with the cool 'honourable men with swords' trope without thinking any deeper, navigate away now. Beyond here, there are monsters - literal and figurative. If you're interested in how different forms of media are used to manufacture consent and shape national identity, please bear with me.

I think the makers of 2024's Shōgun have done a fantastic job. But there is one underlying problem they never fully wrestled with. It's one that Hiroyuki Sanada, the leading man and face of the production team, is enthusiastically supportive of. And with the recent announcement of Season 2, it's likely to return. You may disagree, but to me, ignoring this dishonours the millions of people who were killed or brutalised by either the samurai class, or people in the 20th century inspired by a constructed idea of them.

Why are we drawn to the samurai?

A pretty badly sourced, but wildly popular history podcast contends that 'The Japanese are just like everybody else, only more so.' I saw a post on here that tried to make the assertion that the show's John Blackthorne would have been exposed to as much violence as he saw in Japan, and wouldn't have found it abnormal.

This is incorrect. Obviously 16th and 17th century Europe were violent places, but they contained violence familiar to Europeans through their cultural lens. Why am I confidently asserting this? We have hundreds of letters, journals and reports from Spaniards, Portuguese, Dutch and English expressing absolute horror about what they encountered. Testing swords on peasants was becoming so common that it would eventually become the law of the land. Crucifixion was enacted as a punishment for Christians - first by the Taiko, then by the Tokugawa shogunate - for irony's sake.

Before the end of the feudal period, battles would end with the taking of heads for washing and display. Depending on who was viewing them, this was either to honour them, or to gloat: 'I'm alive, you're dead.' These things were ritualised to the point of being codified when real-life Toranaga took control. Seppuku started as a cultural meme and ended up being the enforced punishment for any minor mistake for the 260 years the ruling samurai class acted as the nation's bureaucracy. It got more and more ritualised and flowery the more it got divorced from its origin: men being ordered by other men to kill themselves during a period of chaotic warfare. I've read accounts of samurai 'warriors' during the Edo period committing seppuku for being late for work. Not life-and-death warrior work - after Sekigahara, they were just book-keepers. They had desk jobs.

Since Europe's contact with Japan, the samurai myth has fascinated and appalled in equal measure. As time has gone on, the fascination has gone up and the horror has been dialled down. This is not an accident. This isn't just a change in the rest of the world's perception of the samurai. This is the result of approximately 120 years of Japanese government policies. Successive governments - nationalist, military authoritarian, and post-war democratic - began to lionize the samurai as the perfect warrior ideal, and sanitize the history of their origin and their heydey (the period Shōgun covers). It erases the fact that almost all of the fighting of the glorious samurai Sengoku Jidai was done by peasant ashigaru (levies), who had no choice.

It is important to never forget why this was done initially: to form an imagined-historical ideal of a fighting culture. An imagined fighting culture that Japanese invasion forces could emulate to take colonies and subdue foreign populations in WWI, and, much more brutally, in WWII. James Clavell came into contact with it as a Japanese Prisoner of War.

He just didn't have access to the long view, or he didn't care.

The Original Novel - How One Ayn Rand Fan Introduced Japan to America

There's a reason why 1975's Shogun novel contains so many historical anachronisms. James Clavell bought into a bunch of state-sanctioned lies, unachored in history, about the warring states period, the concept of bushido (manufactured after the samurai had stopped fighting), and the samurai class's role in Japanese history.

For the novel, I could go into great depth, but there are three things that stand out.

Never let the truth get in the way of a good story. He's a novelist, and he did what he liked. But Clavell's novel was groundbreaking in the 70's because it was sold as a lightly-fictionalised history of Japan. The unfortunate fact is the official version that was being taught at the time (and now) is horseshit, and used for far-right wing authoritarian/nationalist political projects. The Three Unifiers and the 'honour of the samurai' magnates at the time is a neat package to tell kids and adults, but it was manufactured by an early-20th century Japanese Imperial Government trying to harness nationalism for building up a war-ready population. Any slightly critical reading of the primary sources shows the samurai to be just like any ruling class - brutal, venal, self-interested, and horrifically cruel. Even to their contemporary warrior elites in Korea and China.

Fake history as propraganda. Clavell swallowed and regurgitated the 'death before dishonour', 'loyalty to the cause above all else', 'it's all for the Realm' messages that were deployed to justify Imperial Japanese Army Class-A war crimes during the war in the Pacific and the Creation of the Greater East Asian Co-Properity Sphere. This retroactive samurai ethos was used in the late Meiji restoration and early 20th century nationalist-military governments to radicalise young Japanese men into being willing to die for nothing, and kill without restraint. The best book on this is An Introduction to Japanese Society by Sugimoto Yoshio, but there is a vast corpus of scholarship to back it up.

Clavell's orientalism strays into outright racism. Despite the novel Shōgun undercutting John Blackthorne as a white savior in its final pages - showing him as just a pawn in the game - Clavell's politics come into play in every Asia Saga novel. A white man dominates an Asian culture through the power of capitalism. This is orthagonal to points 1 and 2, but Clavell was a devotee of Ayn Rand. There's a reason his protagonists all appear cut from the same cloth. They thrust their way into an unfamiliar society, they use their knowledge of trade and mercantilism to heroically save the day, they are remarked upon by the Asian characters as braver and stronger, and they are irresistible to the - mostly simpering, extremely submissive - caricatures of Asian women in his novels. Call it a product of its times or a product of Clavell's beliefs, I still find it repulsive. Clavell invents (nearly from whole cloth, actually) the idea that samurai find money repulsive and distasteful, and his Blackthorne shows them the power of commerce and markets. Plus there are numerous other stereotypes (Blackthorne's massive dick! Japanese men have tiny penises! Everyone gets naked and bathes together because they're so sexually free! White guys are automatically cool over there!) that have fuelled the fantasies of generations of non-Japanese men, usually white: Clavell's primary audience of 'dad history' buffs.

2024's Shōgun, as a television adaptation, did a far better job in almost every respect

But the show did much better, right? Yes. Unquestionably. It was an incredible achievement in bringing forward a tired, stereotypical story to add new themes of cultural encounter, questioning one's place in the broader world, and killing your ego. In many ways, the show was the antithesis to Clavell's thesis.

It drastically reigned in the anachronistic, ahistorical referencees to 'bushido' and 'samurai honor', and showed the ruling class of Japan in 1600 much more accurately. John Blackthorne (William Adams) was shown to be an extraordinary person, but he wasn't central to the outcome of the Eastern Army-Western Army civil war. There aren't scenes of him being the best lover every woman he encounters in Japan has ever had (if you haven't read the book, this is not an exaggeration). He doesn't teach Japanese warriors how to use matchlock rifles, which they had been doing for two hundred years. He doesn't change the outcome of enormous events with his thrusting, self-confident individualism. In 2024's Shōgun, Blackthorne is much like his historical counterpart. He was there for fascinating events, but not central. He wasn't teaching Japanese people basic concepts like how to make money or how to make war.

On fake history - the manufactured samurai mythos - it improved on the novel, but didn't overcome the central problems. In many ways, I can't blame the showrunners. Many of the central lies (and they are deliberate lies) constructed around the concept of samurai are hallmarks of the genre. But it's still important to me to notice when it's happening - even while enjoying some of the tropes - without passively accepting it.

'Authenticity' to a precisely manufactured story, not to history

There's a core problem surrounding the promotion and manufactured discussion surrounding 2024's Shōgun. I think it's a disconnect between the creative and marketing teams, but it came up again and again in advertising and promotion for the show: 'It's authentic. It's as real as possible.'

I've only seen this brought up in one article, Shōgun Has a Japanese-Superiority Complex, by Ryu Spaeth:

'The show also valorizes a supreme military power that is tempered by the pursuit of beauty and the highest of cultures, as if that might be a formula for peace. Shōgun displays these two extremes of the Japanese self, the savagery and the refinement, but seems wholly unaware that there may be a connection between them, that the exquisite sensibility Japan is famous for may flow from, and be a mask for, its many uses of atrocious domination.'

Here we come to authenticity.

'The publicity surrounding the series has focused on its fidelity to authenticity: multiple rounds of translation to give the dialogue a “classical” feel; fastidious attention to how katana swords should be slung, how women of the nobility should fold their knees when they sit, how kimonos should be colored and styled; and, crucially, a decentralization of the narrative so that it’s not dominated by the character John Blackthorne.'

It's undeniable that the 2024 production spent enormous amounts of energy on authenticity. But authenticity to what? To traditional depictions of samurai in Japanese media, not to history itself. The experts hired for gestures, movement, costumes, buildings, and every other aspect of the show were experts with decades in experience making Japanese historical dramas 'look right', not experts in Japanese history. But this appeal to 'Japanese authenticity' was made in almost every piece of promotional material.

The show had only one historical advisor on staff, and he was Dutch. The numerous Japanese consultants, experts and specialists brought on board (talked about at length in the show's marketing and behind the scenes) were there to assist with making an accurate Japanese jidaigeki. It's the difference between hiring an experienced BBC period drama consultant, and a historian specialising in the Regency. One knows how to make things look 'right' to a British audience. The other knows what actually happened.

That's fine, but a critical viewing of the show needs to engage with this. It's a stylistically accurate Japanese period drama. It is not an accurate telling of Japanese history around the unification of Japan. If it was, the horses would be the size of ponies, there would be far more malnourished and brutalised peasants, the word samurai would have far less importance as it wasn't yet a rigidly enforced caste, seppuku wouldn't yet be ritualised and performed with as much frequency, and Toranaga - Tokugawa - would be a famously corpulently obese man, pounding the saddle of his horse in frustration at minor setbacks, as he was in history.

The noble picture of restraint, patience, refinement and honour presented by Hiroyuki Sanada as Toranaga/Tokugawa is historical sanitation at its most extreme. Despite being Sanada's personal hero, Tokugawa Ieyasu was a brutal warlord (even for the standards of the time), and he committed acts of horrific cruelty. He ordered many more after gaining ultimate power. Think a miniseries about the Founding Fathers of the United States that doesn't touch upon slavery - I'm sure there have been plenty.

The final myth that 2024's Shōgun leaves us with is that it took a man like Toranaga - Tokugawa Ieyasu - to bring peace to a land ripped assunder by chaos. This plays into 19th century notions of Great Man History, and is a neat story, but the consensus amongst historians is if it wasn't Tokugawa, it would have been some other cunt. In many cases, it very nearly was. His success was historical contingency, not 5D chess.

So how did this image get manufactured, to the point where the Japanese populace - by and large - believes it to be true? Very long story short: after a period of rapid modernisation, Japan embraced nationalism in the late 19th century. It was all the rage. Nationalism depends on a glorified past. The samurai (recently the pariahs of Japanese history) were repurposed as Japan's unique warrior heroes, and woven into state education. This was especially heated in the 1920s and 30s in the lead up to the invasion of Manchuria and Japan's war of aggression in the Pacific. Nationalism + militarism = the modern Japanese samurai myth, to prepare men to obey orders unquestioningly from a military dictatorship.

This persists in the postwar period. Every year since 1963, Japan's state broadcaster NHK commissions a historical drama - a Taiga Drama, where many of this show's actors got their starts - that manufactures and re-enforces the idea of samurai as noble, artful, honourable people. Read a book - read a Wikipedia article! - and you'll see that most of it stems from Tokugawa-shogunate era self-propaganda. It's much like the European re-interpretation of chivalry. In Europe's case, chivalry in actual history was a set of guidelines that allowed for the sanctioned mass-rape and murder of civilians, with a side of rules regarding the ransoming of nobles in scorched-earth military campaigns. In Japan's case, historical figures that regularly backstabbed each other, tortured rival warriors and their lessers, and inflicted horrific casualties on the peasants that they owned (we have a term for that) are cast as noble, honourable, dedicated servants of the Empire.

Why does this matter to me? Samurai movies and TV shows are just media, after all. The issue, for me, is that the actors, the producers - including Hiroyuki Sanada - passionately extoll 'accuracy' as if they genuinely believe they're telling history. They talk emotionally about bushido and its special place in Japanese society.

But the entire concept of bushido is a retroactive, post-conflict, samurai construction. Bushio is bullshit. Despite being spoken of as the central tenet of 2024's Shōgun by actors like Hiroyuki Sanada, Tadanobu Asano, and Tokuma Nishioka, it simply didn't exist at the time. It was made up after the advent of modern nationalism.

It was used to justify horrendous acts during the late Edo period, the Meiji restoration, and the years leading up to the conclusion of Japan's war of aggression in the Pacific. It's still used now by Japan's primarily right-wing government to deny war crimes and justify the horrors unleashed on Asia and the Pacific during World War II as some kind of noble warrior crusade. If you ever want your stomach turned, visit the museum attached to Yasukuni Shrine. It's a theme park dedicated to war crimes denial, linked intimately to Japan's imagined warrior past. Whether or not the production staff, cast, and marketing team of 2024's Shōgun knew they were engaging with a long line of ahistorical bullshit is unknown, but it is important.

It's also important to acknowledge that, having listened to many interviews with Rachel Kondo and Justin Marks, they were acutely aware that they weren't Japanese, to claim to be telling an authentically Japanese story would be wrong, and that all they could do was do their best to make an engaging work that plays on ideas of cultural encounter and letting go. I think the 'authenticity!' thing is mostly marketing, and judicious editing of what the creators and writers actually said in interviews.

So... you hate the show, then? What the hell is this all about?

No, I love the show. It's beautiful. But it's a beautiful artwork.

Just as the noh theatre in the show was a twisting of events within the show, so are all works of fiction that take inspiration from history. Some do it better than others. And on balance, in the show, Shōgun did it better than most. But so much of the marketing and the discussion of this adaptation has been on its accuracy. This has been by design - it was the strategy Disney adopted to market the show and give it a unique viewing proposition.

'This time, Shōgun is authentic!*

*an authentic Japanese period drama, but we won't mention that part.

And audiences have conflated that with what actually happened, as opposed to accuracy to a particular form of Japanese propaganda that has been honed over a century. This difference is crucial.

It doesn't detract from my enjoyment of it. Where I view James Clavell's novel as a horrid remnant of an orientalist, racist past, I believe the showrunners of 2024's Shōgun have updated that story to put Japanese characters front and centre, to decentralise the white protagonist to a more accurate place of observation and interest, and do their best to make a compelling subversion of the 'stranger in a strange land' tale.

But I don't want anyone who reads my words or has followed this series to think that the samurai were better than the armed thugs of any society. They weren't more noble, they weren't more honourable, they weren't more restrained. They just had 260 years in which they worked desk-jobs while wearing two swords to write stories about how glorious the good old days were, and how great people were.

Well... that's a bleak note to end on. Where to from here?

There are beautiful works of fiction that engage much closer with the actual truth of the samurai class that I'd recommend. One even stars Hiroyuki Sanada, and is (I think) his finest role.

I'd really encourage anyone who enjoyed Shōgun to check out The Twilight Samurai. That was the reality for the vast majority of post-Sekigahara samurai

For something closer to the period that Shogun is set, the best film is Seppuku (Hara-Kiri in English releases). It is a post-war Japanese film that engages both with the reality of samurai rule, and, through its central themes, how that created mythos was used to radicalise millions of Japanese into senseless death during the war. It is the best possible response to a romanticisation of a brutal, hateful period of history, dominated by cruel men who put power first, every single time.

I want to end this series, if I can, with hope. I hope that reading the novel or watching the 1980 show or the 2024 show has ignited in people an interest in Japanese culture, or society, or history. But don't let that be an end. Go further. There are so many things that aren't whitewashed warlords nobly killing - the social history of Japan is amazing, as is the women's history. A great book for getting an introduction to this is The Japanese: A History in 20 Lives.

And outside of that, there are so many beautiful Japanese movies and shows that don't deal with glorified violence and death. In fact, it makes up the vast majority of Japanese media! Who would have thought! Your Name was the first major work of art to bridge some of the cultural animosity between China and Japan stemming from WW2, and is a goofy time travel love story. Perfect Days is a beautiful movie about the simple joy of living, and it's about the most Tokyo story you can get.

Please go out, read more, watch more. If you can, try and find your way to Japan. It's one of the most beautiful places on earth. The people are kind, the food is delicious, and the culture is very welcoming to foreigners.

2024's Shōgun was great, but please don't let that be the end. Let it be the beginning, and I hope it serves as a gateway for you.

And I hope our little fandom on here remembers this show as a special time, where we came together to talk about something we loved. I'll miss you all.

#shōgun #shogun #shogun fx #toda mariko #john blackthorne #anjin #adaptationsdaily #perioddramasource #hiroyuki sanada #yoshii toranaga #akechi mariko #history #history lesson #japan #world war ii #japanese culture #tokugawa ieyasu #hosokowa gracia #william adams #sengoku jidai #writer stuff #book adaptation #women in history #social history #period drama

[redsea8me]

It’s literally Mermay and here I am nearly FORGETTING my mermaid Soundchet centric AU…

Alright, for starters, Ratchet in this AU is the only one (besides the pre-existing human characters) that didn’t get mermaided bc I had other plans for her

fun fact, the first piece I have here is actually Ratchet and SW firsts meeting and what happened is essentially Ratchet, somewhere in medschool went on a boat trip w/ friends (Jasper in this AU is a beachside town bc I said so) and she FALLS OFF and is dramatically saved by Soundwave and taken back to shore (missing one of her shoes but that’s okay) and after a few more chance meetings that turn into purposeful meetings they fall in love ooo and get secret married (this is all before the war starts btw)

okay, so the war a lot of the premise stays pretty much the same except everyone is mermaids now, and the Decepticons reside much deeper in the ocean while the Autobots reside in a flooded military base (you should look up photos of flooded nuclear bases those things are awesome) bc yahoo Agent Fowler is still w/ us but this time his issue is mermaids instead of aliens

The human kids met the Autobots definitely bc Miko toook them to check out the old abandoned base and then it totally wasn’t abandoned anymore

June and Ratchet (Rosamonde in this AU ig) are old friends and coworkers, w/ Ratchet totally being her sort of mentor earlier on when June started nursing, but as close as they are June is still a bit unnerved by her totally normal husband, Soundwave (he’s not a fish I promise)

Soundwave, sometime in the beginning of the war very much found the stress of dying and knowing Ratchet could never possibly known what would’ve happened to him totally a bummer so he broke into what the Hall of Records and stole one of the relics (aka the magic human necklace) and has been parading around as human for like, 9 years

Soundwave has also definitely figured out that kids are in cahoots w/ the Autobots (he has told Ratchet this fact) and he’s sort of keeping an eye on them

God… I promise I will draw more for this 🙏

#Please ignore how SW’s design keeps changing I haven’t settled on one I really like 😭 #Soundchet #ratchet #soundwave #autobots #decepticons #transformers #tfp #maccadam #red draws #red rambles #mermaid AU

[measlyfurball13]

Seeing as your one of the only people I know who is into Transformers, would you mind info dumping about it?

I know very little of anything about it besides the old "Micheal Bay!" Joke, and that it was initially made to sell toys, but that doesn't really mean anything.

So tell me, is there "more than meets the eye" to this franchise?

HOOOOOOOOO BOY

The single most important thing to know about Transformers is that there is no singular canon. Rather, there's a TON of different continuities, or basically alternate versions of the same universe. Transformers is a franchise that basically tells the same story over and over again, altering each time while keeping some very basic core themes and characters.

Optimus Prime is the leader of the Autobots. Megatron is the leader of the Decepticons. The Autobots are the good guys, the Decepticons are the bad guys, and they have been fighting a war for millions of years. It is rare for continuities to change these core facts. They might be modified, but they will never be unrecognizable.

In one continuity, Optimus might be a younger, more inexperienced leader. In another, he may be old, wise, and powerful. In some continuities, Optimus and Megatron have personal beef with each other through their backstories, making them almost lost brothers of a sort. In others, Megatron is a stranger and Optimus is an impersonal victim of his cruelty. Each time this story, the story of Transformers, is told, little details like this change.

Generally, continuities try to keep a certain "feel" to them. While sometimes a continuity will completely reinvent a character, most of the time it will try to keep a character within a few (arbitrarily chosen) character traits and/or role.

So, if this story has been told over and over again, and there's certain established expectations for characters, what was this all based on? The answer is the original 1984 animated cartoon! This cartoon is referred to as "Generation 1", or just "G1" for short. This is the cartoon made to sell toys. The animation quality is poor, the dialogue and music are cheesy, and I absolutely love it to pieces. I would highly, highly recommend that you watch the first three episodes, which basically acts as the pilot for the whole show. It really writes the characters at their most iconic and introduces the setting.

Now that you understand that G1 is the base, you can go from there and explore other continuities! Remember, continuities don't connect across different mediums (with the very distinct exception of one specific continuity, which I'll get to right after this) so feel free to find one that interests you. In general, each cartoon (or close series of cartoons) is a continuity. Allow me to list some of the more popular ones:

Transformers Beast Wars. This is arguably the continuity that follows the established G1 pattern the least, since this is the cartoon that followed right after it. In this one, the transformers turn into animals and battle on a prehistoric earth. This one is well-renowned for its surprisingly deep character writing, but the antique 3D animation is the biggest hurdle to enjoyment. It's kinda the continuity that's the most forgotten.

Transformers Armada, Energon, and Cybertron. Also known as the Unicron Trilogy (no, not "unicorn"!), this one was made in Japan and then dubbed and exported. They introduce a lot of anime-inspired features into the lore such as powerups and the like. Armada is regarded very highly with good writing, the other two not so much. The continuity between them is fairly loose. You could absolutely get away with watching just that one. Here's a link to Armada.

The Michael Bay films. You already know this one. These live action films are in a continuity of their own. In all absolutely fairness, the first movie is pretty good, barring Bay's more childish flairs. If you don't mind the U.S. military being portrayed as the absolute good guys, I think you'll genuinely like it.

The Bumblebee movie. Special shoutout to this one! This live action movie is in its own continuity that's really fun. This is an excellent movie and I love it so much, please watch it at some point.

Transformers Animated. This is one of the most widely beloved continuities in the entire franchise. People really, really like this show. It takes the franchise in a refreshing new direction, with the first season feeling almost a bit more like a superhero cartoon than a "traditional" transformers cartoon. The Autobots are the absolute underdogs in this one and it's hard not to root for them. Here's a link. This one's a good one to start with.

Transformers Cyberverse. This one is a web series that was focused for a younger audience for the first season, gets decent in the second but then gets absolutely and insanely fucking unhinged in season 3. I. . . don't recommend this one for any beginners? It's a trip. That first season is pretty unbearable. The second season starts out feeling like you missed something, and then gradually gets kinda better. Season 3 is insane. Look, just tackle this one after you've tackled the others. Don't start here.

Transformers Earthspark. The newest of the bunch, this one is releasing on Paramount Plus. I've really enjoyed what I've seen of it! It's a much more down-to-earth approach to the story. It changes some characters but in interesting ways. The new characters are excellent as well. You can definitely start with this one.

And finally, without further ado:

Transformers Prime.

I fucking LOVE this one.

This one is my favorite and was what really got me into the Transformers fandom. This cartoon takes the good innovations from the Michael Bay movies and then actually tells an amazingly competent story with it. It's the Transformers cartoon with the darkest tone by a long shot, and it really sells that this story is about a war. Characters die! The serialization is suuuuuuuper tight- one of my favorite examples is that injured characters have to spend time onscreen healing back up.

This cartoon also gives a significant amount of focus and exploration of the Decepticons as a faction as well, which is rare for the franchise. Both the Autobot and Decepticon characters will charm their way into your heart.

This show is equivalent in quality to Avatar the Last Airbender to me. I know that's probably overhyping it. You may not like it as much. But I really really really love it.

Here is a link to the first season.

But wait! There's more. Welcome to the Aligned Continuity!

Transformers Prime is actually part of the franchise's first attempt to really connect a story across media platforms. The result was. . . mostly successful? Definitely a lot of plot holes/errors, and some of the continuity is trash, but I want to highlight two videogames specifically:

Transformers: War for Cybertron. This game is a third-person shooter by High Moon studios. They do an absolutely stellar job with this one. Taking place on Cybertron, the home planet of the transformers, this one acts as the first part of an indirect prequel to Transformers Prime.

Transformers: Fall of Cybertron. If the first game is good, then this game is amazing. The devs layer on more amazing mechanics to those introduced in the first game, with some of my absolute most favorite moments in all of gaming happening in this one. It acts as a second part of the prequel to Transformers Prime.

The writing in both of these games is so amazing, and the gameplay is so much fun. I know you love videogames, so that's why I'm recommending these two you. HOWEVER, the cost is that these games are stupid difficult to get ahold of. You'll most likely have to sail the high seas, yo-ho-ho, if you catch my drift. I play these on my Xbox 360. Best of luck to you!

Anyways, there are other entries into the Aligned Continuity. There's a set of three novels that I've heard are stellar. If you're looking for a show for young kids but that is also fun for you to watch, you could always check out Transformers: Rescue Bots. That one has a small but devoted fanbase of older fans.

But do NOT touch the cartoon in this continuity called Robots in Disguise. Do not. It's marketed as a sequel to Transformers Prime. It is not. Not really. It's like the Halo 5 of Transformers. Every day I am reminded that it exists I am in pain.

---

And there lies the end of my introduction! If you actually did read all of this, congrats to you. Ironically, I'm not sure that you've really ended up more knowledgeable than you started. I didn't really go over anything specific about characters or plot or lore or anything. But I hope I've illustrated my point that to do so would be fruitless- this story exists in so many different iterations that you just have to go out and find the one that resonates the most with you, y'know?

My recommendation for getting acquainted with the franchise is to start with those first three G1 episodes, then move on to either Animated or Prime. You could also pick Beast Wars if you're looking for something with a more retro 90s charm, which I know you like from Marathon.

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #long post

[chiefdirector]

Drinking | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Act Two

Two weeks from now: 

Tim Bradford was known to be many things. Hardass, stickler for rules, vengeful, angry. Words like these had been tossed around tirelessly to describe him. None of these words could describe him now. If one were to say anything about him, they would say he was burdened by grief, a man destined to be encompassed by the negatives in life.

—----

Tim shivered as he moved throughout the house, not used to the cold feeling that had settled into the walls. He supposed he should be used to it by now, the place did seem a lot bigger when it was only him after all. It seemed like nobody lived there at all, the only sounds which indicated anyone existed within the walls was the tv playing an old tape of an NFL game and Kojo’s soft snores.

It took all of his willpower to not scream and shout just to scare off the quietness that surrounded him. It felt almost as if it had him in a chokehold, firmly compressing all the oxygen he had from his lungs. He couldn’t stay like this, not with the weight on his chest. He needed something, anything to ease his body and mind.

He decided to forgo the glass as he reached fo the near empty bottle of scotch that rested on the kitchen counter. Moving to the living room, he let his weight crash down onto the sofa, taking a deep swig from the bottle as he leaned back. There was nothing he wanted more than to be swallowed whole by the couch. Except for (Y/N) to come back to him. 

But that wouldn't happen, and he had to make his peace with that. 

He had survived losing her before, it would seem that he could survive losing her again. But this time there was no hope, there was not a chance that she was going to be coming home any time soon. 

Rosalind Dyer had won. 

It was always a possibility that she would prevail. The woman was a mastermind with no boundaries and no drive to lose. Despite all they knew about her, they had underestimated her. He could say that the entire team had underestimated her, but that wouldn't be fair to them. He was the one who made the plan, and he would be the one to live with the consequences.

He took another swig from the bottle, the burn of the golden liquid had become so familiar that he didn’t even wince. As he did so, Tim started to reconsider all that had led him to this very moment. 

From the day he started at the academy to the day he lost (Y/N) for the first time. It had all been building up to this, and all he could do was drink. 

He knew that they were out there, the LAPD. Hunting down Rosalind Dyer on the streets of Los Angeles and they knew they would find her. She had been caught before after all. But this time was different, this time he could help, no matter how much he wanted to do. 

Sighing softly, he placed the bottle down next to the chess board in front of him, and picked up his phone. The blaring alert of ‘NO NEW MESSAGES’ taunting him. Lopez would let him know what happened, or Harper would. Maybe even Nolan. 

Tim scoffed at the thought, but he knew that John would let him know what was happening in the hunt for Dyer, if Tim asked that is. Maybe that was why he didn’t ask, if he knew what was going on then he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. 

He tossed the phone to the other end of the sofa at the thought and picked up the bottle again, looking around his living room even though he knew it was only him and Kojo here. He knew he was being watched; every instinct he had carefully trained since his days in the military screamed it at him. Tim remained relaxed in his posture, not letting the dread he felt show.

Once again, he allowed his eyes to scan the room, making sure to catch a glimpse of every nook and cranny he could think of. His eyes lingered for a second longer than they should have on the wooden bookshelf, trying to look at each book individually.

He had built it for (Y/N) when they had moved in together, hers had been damaged in the UHaul truck, meaning that their living room was filled with stacks of books pushed into one corner. He had almost stuck a nail through his finger but that didn’t matter to him, the look of joy on her face made every splinter worth it.

Tim shook his head at the memory as he had another sip from the bottle.

Masterlist

Tags: @xceafh @kmc1989 @buba424 @salty0cracker @iamasimpingh0e @malindacath @agentred27 @hufflepuffwhore13 @tessalynni @anaferreira-4 @starstruckchopshoptyphoon @alessiamargaux @rexit-mo @ladespedidas @omg-its-vixen @agentcable @rookietrek

#tim bradford #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford imagine #chiefdirector #the rookie #bottom of the river #the rookie imagine #the rookie x reader #the rookie abc

[alicefromwhichplanet]

Alice’s Ship Guide: Blitzbee

Good day. The Blitzbee Week 2024 has just concluded. I had a lot of fun attending it. However, after seeing some of the interpretations of this ship, I find them quite different from how I understand this ship. At the same time, many of my friends who share my interest don’t ship Blitzbee, which probably has something to do with the popular interpretations of them. So I would like to share my views on this ship, and see if I could inspire some new thoughts on them. Should be fun.

*most of the following analysis is based on tfa, but not limited to it. I like shipping two generally consistent characters in different universes, as a way of training my imagination with slightly different dynamics.

1） They are two childishly reckless young adults. There is an age gap but not very big/important.

Most of the ships I like are “mutuals”: they are equal in strength and mental status. They understand each other better than others.

In tfa, we see many “corresponding” characters in the two camps, for example, Lugnut and Bulkhead are both “the bulky one with destructive power” on both teams. Blitzwing and Bumblebee form a “corresponding pair” as they both play the role of “the funny talkative guy in the team”. They are both young and reckless, having an immature side of them compared to other teammates.

Examples are:

Examples are: Blitzwing (in particular his “random” alter) made a free fall into autobots to have fun messing with them , forgetting about the task Megatron repeatedly told him to do first. Likewise, Bumblebee acts recklessly on many tasks/occasions as well (for example, challenging “Colossus” on a tv show).

The two have an amazing interaction in the episode “Velocity” when they chased/raced with each other, which clearly shows their similarity in personality. Many have noticed the childishness of Bumblebee but failed to see that in Blitzwing as well.

As for the claims of Bumblebee being “underage”, you have to admit autobots are using child soldier in their army to prove that (which is not likely). Bumblebee attended military school in preparation for the elite guards, which should only take adult/ almost adult students, long before he joined Optimus’s team of engineers. The team doesn’t treat him as a child. And seeing from Blitzwing’s personality, he is not so far from Bumblebee’s age. The two are like 20 and 25 year olds mentally.

Also I want to mention that the age of transformers should not be the counted the same way like humans, because they are alien robots who don’t die easily unless they are killed in a military conflict. There is little chance they will perish for old age (all the parts are replaceable), so they can actually live for a very long time if no fatal accident happened. In this case it should be natural for adult bots with an age difference to date, for there is no obvious physical deterioration as age increases. In this case similarity in mental age/ state of maturity is more important than actual years of living. This makes Blitzbee a couple with similar ages rather than a couple with huge age difference.

2） “Growing up together” is the most interesting theme in their relationship.

As I have said, Blitzwing and Bumblebee are both reckless, immature young bots, I would like to see them growing into more responsible and stable ones through learning to take care of each other.

Blitzwing has the mental issue that causes mood swings. He also might have experienced more trauma of war and abuse compared to Bumblebee (the famous triple-changer adaptation being the major one in my fan fiction ideas). After he developed a secret relationship with Bumblebee he would become more stable and his trauma will be healed to some extent by Bumblebee’s powerful, devoted love.

This leads to my major take that Bumblebee should eventually play the role of a “caregiver/protector” in this relationship, speaking of mentality. He should learn to be the one that “fixes” Blitzwing with love and trust. I love to see Bumblebee grow up and learn to be the responsible one that takes care of his lover, rather than staying in the shell of childishness forever and letting traumatized Blitzwing do all the dirty work. Growing up together is an amazing part of this ship and I would love to see more of this in their dynamics.

3） Megatron and the Decepticons are not their enemy.

This is also a major issue I’m having with the majority of Blitzbee fandom. I’d like to propose that since we’re depicting a cross-fractional relationship, it is an excellent chance for us to explore the autobot/decepticon dichotomy in a more meaningful way. Both camps attracted numerous followers and lasted long in the civil war. It is neither reasonable nor meaningful if Megatron’s reign is sorely established on threatening, violence and jungle rules. The decepticons should have fraternity/comradeship inside their camp if autobots do. Decepticons love and respect their battle mates as well, and Megatron as a much trusted leader does show care towards his decepticon soldiers (no need to say that tfa Megatron has shown amazing tolerance and a cool mood in all three seasons). Dehumanizing decepticons to create obstacles for blitzbee is the cheapest and most shallow way of interpreting them either as a couple or as two individuals. Blitzwing as a decepticon soldier has his beliefs and loyalty to his camp too. It is sad that many blitzbee writers simply dismiss Blitzwing’s choice of being a decepticon as being threatened or forced into it, which is just unreasonable since Blitzwing is one of the most trusted subordinates of Megatron. There is a way of exploring both Bumblebee and Blitzwing’s struggles of dating an enemy and their guilt of betraying their camp they willingly joined. This makes the ship more in-depth and lively, only that it requires the shipper to have enough knowledge of politics and an unbiased attitude towards the decepticons.

4） They don’t follow traditional heterosexual roles. They are a homosexual couple (basically, gay. I can also accept genderbending both of them women).

This actually applies to every couple I ship. I don’t like the traditional depiction of romance that requires two individuals to either play by the “feminine script” or “masculine script”. I think this kind of view is rooted in unreasonable expectations/ gender stereotypes of patriarchal society, and is harmful and outdated. I don’t want to assign Blitzwing and Bumblebee fixed roles as “top” or “bottom” as well. Everything should be dynamic in their relationship.

5） If they become mature enough to handle children, Blitzwing is the carrier.

This conclusion comes from 4), and also simply because of the fact that in tfa, decepticons are larger than autobots, this naturally makes the possible cross-fractional kid a “middle size between autobots and decepticons”. This means the kid should be bigger than usual autobot kid (if spark-sexual reproduction is possible) and it would be dangerous for autobots to carry a half decepticon child. If such rule exists, there should already been natural selection working on Cybertron to let the decepticons carry the child if pregnancy happens. Also, as I mentioned in 4), I don’t want to assign traditional gender roles to Bumblebee and Blitzwing, so when it comes to carrying, it is actually the same as other things they should do as a couple: it is alright for the fittest one in a relationship to do it. If the child is big, Blitzwing be the carrier. It’s natural and smooth.

6） (nsfw) Size kink? They have so many more kinks! They actually enjoy non-penetrative sex and spark sex.

This is also based on my take of dismissing traditional gender stereotypes. Penetrative sex is not the only way to get pleasure. Since there is a size difference, it should be uncomfortable/ unpractical for Blitzwing and Bumblebee to carry it out often (If you think they have a size kink, I’ll have to say that kinks shouldn’t be the main reason they get together as a couple, or the relationship would become unhealthy with objectifying the other for sexual pleasure. And it’s certainly not the kind of serious relationship that involves love and respect that I’m trying to write about.).

For one thing, they are very playful childish individuals, besides, sexual reproduction is still not in the codes of Cybertronians, it is actually a perfect chance to break the stereotypes of sexual pleasure solely achieved in penetration. I would like to imagine Blitzbee having all kinds of kinks that may entertain both of them trying all kinds of tricks. Penetration is just a bit too old-fashioned for them. Spark sex, as a more daring method free from any trouble of size, should also be a good choice for them.

7） If there are humanformers, I would like to see Bumblebee being Latino/from Latin America, and Blitzwing being German.

This is my personal interpretation of their human forms based on their accents and designs in canon, and some of the interpretations in fandom. Their personalities fit pretty well for people coming from these two regions, and Blitzwing in particular. There are simply too many German implications in Blitzwing (his accent, his helmet and look, icy) that I just can’t imagine Blitzwing’s human form being anything else.

If you like my interpretation and would like to try this ship, I’ll recommend you my blitzbee fan fictions (ideas). Though they’re limited in number, they’re all consistent to my interpretation above.

Tfa:

Old World, New World

Tfp:

One More Light

Bayverse (Bumblebee movie):

(And the just finished Blitzbee Week 2024 piece)

The Phantom of the Opera

More works are under construction. And if you want to hear out my headcanons just search for #blitzbee in this blog. Thanks for reading!

#blitzbee #tfa #blitzwing #bumblebee #tfa blitzwing #tfa bumblebee #feminism #gender roles #analysis #ship analysis #Alice’s ship guide #my thoughts #maccadams #blitzbeeweek2024

[soaps-mohawk]

hi!! It’s been sad seeing u have to deal with so much recently :(( both irl and anons being assholes on here so here are some musings that will hopefully cheer u up!!!

I know u said no pregnancy was gonna happen in the doc BUT when I first got into this doc (binged it in like 1 day btw) I also went thru and looked at almost ALLLL of your extra posts, lore, FQA, etc. And one that stuck with me a lot was explaining what would happen if reader was to accidentally get pregnant and who would retire and I. I have not been able to forget this fic is literally my Roman Empire on my mind literally 24/7 let me tell u

I just feel like there are so many good opportunities for it to be sweet but also angsty as hell. I imagine after some time Price actually becomes rather suited to being a father. He never really thought he had much going for him besides the military but now he has this little bundle who looks up to him for everything and it all just sort of clicked for him. I imagine after some time too, Gaz wants a little one of his own……one from the alpha and one from the beta y’know……now u just have another little carbon copy of Gaz running around

also ofc Simon and Johnny are there to visit at any and all times they can. Holidays, week-long breaks between deployment, etc. the pups love them so much and all their attention is stolen by their two uncles where they’re here. I feel like when they come to visit the pack might sort of be how it used to? They’re definitely still very affectionate like they were in the old days and it’s just easy for everyone to slip into the habit of kissing each other or scenting.

But I feel like after some time, Johnny would definitely yearn to have a similar lifestyle to what price and gaz retired to. He sees you as a family so happy (they get PLENTY of pics and videos too ofc) and he kind of wishes he’d retired and got you to have another little MacTavish himself. He doesn’t regret staying with Simon by any means, but he misses his pack the way it used to be, and he’s getting older, after all. It’s only natural.

AAA I DIDNF MEAN FOR JT TO BE THIS LONG KM SK SORRY BUT I HAD TO FET THIS OUT LFMSOO hope ur feeling better soon!!! Don’t listen to stupid anons >:00 drink water eat food and sleep we love u!!!!! 🫶🫶

— 🌘 !

Aww it's okay anon!!! I love seeing people's thoughts and ideas about my fic!! One of my favorite things, actually. So share away!! I don't mind 💚 I am feeling a bit better. Taking it easy and taking care of myself too. Don't forget to take care of yourself too!!

Price definitely has the most potential for picking up fatherhood easily. He might be the most nervous at first, but he said in the fic he had considered settling down with an omega at one point, so his sudden fatherhood wouldn't be that big of a shock for him. He's definitely the most experienced, perhaps not with actual children, but he can lead a squad of soldiers through what are essentially suicide missions. He can handle a baby.

Gaz definitely is the most excited out of everyone for the baby. Reader definitely has to give him looks sometimes because he's reading the parenting books and looking up which furniture is the best and researching milestones. He's the most prepared out of all of them, or at least as prepared as one can be for a baby. And of course as soon as he sees the baby he's going to want one of his own. That's a given lol.

Johnny is definitely the fun uncle. The pups all love when he comes to visit. Gets them riled up and wears them out so they finally sleep 😂 That's definitely the only reason they don't complain about him getting them too excited. He'd definitely yearn for the quiet life after a while. He'd want to be there and be with his pack. He loves Simon, but he'd get tired after a while. He'd be welcomed back with open arms, just as Simon will when he eventually retires too.

#answered #queue 0 6 #crcb lore