#music for the memory cellar

[unjustlyunread]

Horowitz playing Rach's sonata no. 2, II. non allegro.

i love the way he mixes the two versions, and the string breaking was divine intervention—am undecided if malevolent or benevolent.

[acepandemi]

Bit ironic that, my latest reblog being about returning library books, I almost forgot to return my own library books yesterday. Oops!

It's a good thing I went to cross out my canceled dentist appointment on the calendar and noticed the large "Bieb" I'd written on the square for yesterday. ("Bieb" is common short for "Bibliotheek", the Dutch word for library.)

(And yes, I did return them yesterday. And checked out a few new books. And wrote another large "Bieb" on the calendar for the new return date.)

Honestly, this is how much my memory sucks. I wrote it on the calendar, stuck the receipt with the return date on the fridge, AND the library sent me a reminder e-mail last week, and I still almost forgot. (In my defense, I've been having a rather stressfull week. Make that weeks. No, make that months. *sigh*)

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

waking up in his bed

(cw: age gap 25/41, nsfw, mdni, marks, a bit of spit stuff, dry (wet?) humping, swallowing)

part before: hanging off König's shoulder

When I open my eyes up again, for just a moment, I don’t know where I am. My own confused image stairs back at me – right, the mirror on his ceiling! And I laugh to myself because it’s ridiculous. The whole concept is!

I stretch myself, yawning. Realising that I’m alone in the kingsize bed. I mean, it would be impossible to miss the big guy. I still feel his lingering touches, the way he held onto me as we fell asleep together. Reminders of the first time hooking up after the concert.

I’m somebody who normally can’t sleep in a tight embrace, but he was pratically latching onto me both times. Subconsciously in his sleep. Holding onto me, softly still. If it were possible for him to wrap himself around me completely, I bet he would’ve done it. His big arm resting over my torso, the forearm securely between my breasts, his hand on the side of my face. One of his legs strewn over one of mine. Almost like a human weighted blankie. And I still slept soundly.

I yawn and stretch again, until I notice a little piece of paper stuck to my arm. I peel it off and look at it.

That explains where he went off to, but it also makes him out be a liar, because I don’t believe I look anywhere near cute in the morning. Drooling into the soft pillow underneath my head. My hair standing off to the side. Probably snoring as well.

And I have to laugh as I see the little doodle in the right corner. Honestly, it’s a relief to see – considering the man’s many talents – that he isn’t good at everything. Drawing doesn’t seem to be his forte. But at the same time, this was painfully cute. The note, the doodle, everything. I giggle to myself and finally pull back the covers.

I assess the ‘damage’ while I get up: Booty hurts a little bit, probably from getting fucked into the hard wood surface of the bar. The muscles in my legs are a little tense, my shoulders and neck feel a bit stiff, and my pussy is a little bit sore (and deeply satisfied). The hickeys and the faint bitemark on my inner thighs bring a little smile to my face. It couldn’t have been clearer if he had written ‘König was here’ in waterproof sharpie on them.

I put on my shirt, still not daring to take one of his because of how it might look, and curse myself because I didn’t pack more clothes. It’s not terribly stinky or stained, but it definitely looked better yesterday. I quickly brush my teeth, my eyes darting to the shower, remnants of last night in the forefront of my mind before I go on a search for my panties.

I find them on the floor in the bar, the memories of yesterday flooding me, the forgotten cocktail still on the bar. He had to make another one, because the icecubes had already melted and the gin was warm.

I leave the cellar going up the stairs until I stand in the living room again, looking at the books I set aside yesterday.

There is another crystal tumbler on the end table, this one empty. Just one because we shared it.

The glass moving from my hand to his and back, while we were listening to music, talking. Cuddling on the couch. My legs splayed over his thighs, barely reaching all the way to the other side. His arm around my waist, his thumb painting little circles over my hip. My fingers tangled in his hair and digging into the scalp, massaging gently until he was humming quietly.

His mouth placed on the glass where mine was, just a moment before, taking another sip.

Lingering kisses, slow and sweet, turning into little sips of the drink being passed between us. Tasting him and the gin at the same time. A heady combination.

I felt myself getting sleepier and sleepier the later it got, until I yawned and almost fell asleep in his arms, then he finally got me to agree that we should head to bed.

I hear the front door open, the sound ripping me from my memories. I turn around, skipping in that direction.

König is standing in the hallway, taking off his shoes, a grocery bag in his hands. In his usual leatherjacket, shirt and… sweatpants? Casual black sweatpants. Yeah no, I totally feel normal about them. I can’t help but ogle him, because he looks like a wet dream, even in the most mundane outfits.

He sees me, his face lighting up in a grin. “No pants again, huh?”, he comments, his eyes dropping down my body.

I blush. “Uh, I can put some on, if it bothers you.”

He laughs. “Doncha dare hide that cute ass of yours.” He comes closer and leans down, dropping a kiss onto my mouth and his hand to my ass. Patting it twice, quickly and playful. “I almost didn't want to leave bed this morning...”, he whispers against my lips and deepens the kiss, for just a moment.

“I got your note.”, I say as we tumble into the kitchen.

He puts the shopping bag down on the counter. “Yeah, went to the supermarket. And I also got us some croissants from the bakery.”

“The little shop at the corner to Main Street?”, I ask.

“Yes.”, he smiles.

“Hell yeah, I love their croissants, they're the best.”, I exclaim.

“Baked goods, the only thing the french are good at.”, he comments pointedly.

“Oh man, you and the french.”, I laugh as I hop onto the kitchen counter beside the coffee maker. Watching him unpack the groceries and getting said baked goods.

He pulls one croissant out of the brown paper bag and hands it to me unceremoniously. I grab it and take a bite, the flakey dough bursting as my teeth cut through it. The little sigh that drops from my lips sounds a little too enamored, a little too enthused for just eating a croissant. He looks at me, his jaw dropping just a bit.

“What?”, I ask, still munching on the pastry dough.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head mumbling something that sounds a bit like "never thought I'd be jealous of a fucking croissant".

That makes me laugh. "Thanks for getting them, but you didn't need to get up early for that."

He shrugs. "I'm an early bird anyway out of habit, and I had to go out and buy some milk, because I forgot about that.", he explains, pulling said milk out of the grocery bag.

I look at him, a little confused.

"I drink my coffee black, so I never have any milk at home.", he adds, as if that was a given.

A grin stalks on my face. “Of course you do.”, I say pointedly.

“Now, what's that supposed to mean?”, he asks.

I tilt my head and pull my brows up, all like 'are you being serious?'. “Let's just say that I would have been way more surprised if the over 40-year-old metalhead, who has a car that looks like it's from the nineties, who still collects vinyls and CDs, who would rather drink his gin neat and who's biggest kitchen appliance is a barista coffee machine with all the knick-knacks – if he drank a latte in the morning.”

He laughs, the hearty sound making me all giddy. “Tell me how you really feel.”, he says, his eyes sparkling at me, while jokingly clasping one hand over his heart.

“Sorry.”, I say, grinning at him.

He waves it off. “Don’t be, I deserved that.” He gets some coffee beans ready, putting them through the grinder and then fitting the portafilter into the barista machine.

While the coffee drips down into the cup, he comes closer standing right in between my knees. “But, how about you, missy? Do you like a latte in the morning?” The little quirk of the corner of his mouth is telling me that this isn’t just some question about my coffee preferences. It’s one of his telltale signs.

“I do, but I feel like I'm missing the joke here.”, I say, looking up at him. Sitting on the counter, he still towers over me, more than a head taller than me.

He chuckles. “Well, ‘Latte’ is also another word for boner in German, so...” He sees the grimace I'm making and laughs some more, and I join in, while shaking my head. He steps away and repeats the process, getting another coffee ready.

"I'm starting to think that your language only has dirty innuendos and curses.", I remark, jokingly.

He grins. "That just might be my vocabulary." He pours some milk into a metal jug and froths it, adding the froth to the mug after the coffee is ready. Wincing at the shitload of milk he put in. "Here, a latte for the lady.", he says, while handing me the mug.

My eyes drop down of their own volition, as I take it from his hands. Openly staring at his crotch, where his sweatpants are clearly tented by his dick. And he comes even closer with the way I'm looking at him.

My gaze pans up again until it lands on his face, his expression stoic, as he’s pulling an eyebrow up, like he’s awaiting what I’ll do. I take a drink, tasting the coffee on my tongue. "Thank you. For the latte." Trying to hide my grin behind the mug. "Sir.", I add, cheekily.

He leans forward, placing his hands on either side of me, caging me in. The look in his eyes burning into me. I still grin up at him, but I feel like I'm in danger. In danger of getting devoured like one of those flaky croissants.

"You wanna say that again with your lips around my dick? Hm?", he asks and my breath halts. Thinking about yesterday again. When I sat on his bed, gagging around his cock.

"Maybe.", I whisper. He just leans down to kiss me and I can taste the bitter coffee on his tongue, as it strokes against mine. Slow and deep.

I put the cup down to the side before my arms reach up, holding onto his shoulders, his hair falling to the front, the tips of it brushing over my skin. I push some of it back, my fingers tangle in the long strands, while I answer his kiss.

He's not breaking away, still caging me in, even though one of his hands moves to my panties. The fingers toying with the hem, easily slipping under the fabric. My legs spread even wider, I squirm into his touch and our kiss gets messier, sloppier. His thumb finds my clit, softly pressing against it, and the light touch makes me needy for more.

"Fuck, please.", I whimper into the kiss, and I can feel his lips turn up into a smile. He breaks away, keeping up the constant brushes against my clit, kissing down to my neck.

My hand tries to reach for his dick, but he catches my wrist. "Just- let me.", he murmurs, pressing his hot mouth against my pulse point. Sucking on it softly. A needy mewl escapes me when his middle finger slips into me. Just one digit, not quite enough to fill me up, even with his big fingers.

Soft teasing touches, enough to get me worked up, but not enough to get me anywhere near finishing. And he knows what he's doing.

König pulls back, his lids hooded, his gaze intently on me, which makes me acutely aware of the expression on my own face, the O shape of my mouth. His finger is still moving inside me, the brushes against the most sensitive spot make me squirm.

I teether on the edge of an orgasm, until he pushes another one inside me, filling me up. His fingers move fast now, against my fluttering walls. Coaxing the release out of me and I come, pulsing around them. Leaving me wet and needy for more touches.

He pulls the panties over my pussy again, the fabric soaking up my juices in an instant. His hand clasps over it, softly massaging over it, until they soaked wet with my own juices.

König simply pushes his sweatpants down, pulling out his cock, letting it rest against my clothed pussy. Then he spits and a dollop of saliva drops onto my panties. The sound alone makes me whimper, while I lean back until my shoulderblades hit the cabinets behind me.

The spit runs down, right over the tip of his dick. He drags it through it, spreading the wetness on his length, soaking my underwear even more. Slow and deliberate, taking his time. The slick just being enough, so he can flit over it.

I groan at the sight, the filthy little move making me even hotter. He pulls up one eyebrow while looking at me, the smirk on his lips infuriatingly cocky. He ruts his hips forward, his hard dick pushing against my pussy lips and clit. The friction due to the fabric in between us, against my sensitive skin, is almost too much to handle, my hands gripping his arms, nails digging into his biceps.

His hands splayed on my thighs and he looks down, my eyes following his until we're both fixed on the spot where he is rubbing himself against me. The little hickeys on the skin next to it. His thumb coasts over the bitemark on my inner thigh, a faint imprint still showing up. He lifts his hand for just a moment, pressing a kiss to his pointer and middle finger and then pressing them onto the mark.

If I wasn't so wound tight from his teasing touches, I think I would've actually awww'ed at the little gesture, him kissing the bite better. Like this, I only sigh, grinding against his dick, searching for more friction.

He slumps forward, his forehead resting against mine. "Fuck, I need to be inside you.", he grunts, his words sending a shiver down my spine. He lifts me from the countertop, my legs wrapping around him.

"What, no magic condoms appearing out of thin air this time?", I tease him, my fingers stroking over his shoulders.

“The magician is out of props for such stunts.”, he grumbles. “And there will still be enough time to fuck you on every surface in the whole house.”

He hurries upstairs to the bedroom where he sets me down on the bed and we both scramble to get off our clothes. I pull my shirt over my head and fall into the soft mattress, watching him shed his. His dick is hanging out his sweatpants, half caught in the waistband, bobbing up and down with his movements before he lets the pants fall down to the floor.

He grabs a condom out of the pack that's lying out on the nightstand, the packaging torn at the front, and puts the rubber on.

My eyes pan up from the dark fluff of his happy trail, the tummy, the upper abs and his huge pecs, dark hair peppered over them. His nipple piercing. The broad shoulders, adorned with black ink that spans down his arms as well. Trying not to look at the parts where cuts and other scars disturbed the otherwise impeccable images inked into the skin.

He looks back at me, from underneath his eyebrows, one of them quirking up, as he climbs onto the mattress, his weight pushing it down.

I yelp and giggle, as he grabs me by the hips, pulls me into him, until the swells of my ass hit his thick thighs. My legs drop to the side on their own, and he takes that as the invitation it is, his hand pulling the wet panties to the side and just slipping into me.

We both groan as he settles deep inside me, the stretch of his thickness making my head drop back and my eyes roll back.

His hand catches my chin, softly digging into it. Making me look up as he sits back on his knees and slowly starts to fuck me.

“See how fucking pretty you are?”

His eyes are on me, on my face, while I look up at the mirror, focused in on the point where we are connected. Seeing how his dick pushes into me, until he's balls deep, his tip pressing up against my cervix.

Sliding out, inch by inch, almost completely pulling out. In again. I feel the stretch as my pussy takes him in. It's a tight fit, but I'm wet and dripping from how he worked me up.

And out. The feeling of emptiness only dissipates, when his hips snap forward, filling me up quickly, and a moan drops from my lips, the shape contorted to an O.

He starts to fuck me harder, his hand coming around my throat, his fingers closing around my neck, gentler than I would have liked. Pulling me into him while he pounds into me. His hand is other still grabbing onto my panties, the fabric aching as he uses it as leverage to move me into his thrusts.

Rip.

The sound of fabric ripping cuts through the otherwise soft erotic soundscape. The drowsiness drops out of his gaze, his eyes widen in shock, as he looks down, stopping his thrusts. "Scheiße, sorry.", he curses.

I laugh a bit while I shake my head. "Don't worry, it's just clothes.", sitting up on my elbows, reaching out for him. Needing him to continue.

He lets go of them, the fabric hanging from my hips, and leans forward, pressing a deep kiss onto my mouth in apology. His hand softly strokes the side of my face, his thumb caressing my cheek. Close, so close, his forehead resting against mine, as he rolls his hips against me.

He straightens back up, picking up his thrusts again. His arm spans over my whole body, the muscled limb covering half of me. I feel so small compared to him, the contrast so stark when I'm splayed out like this in front of him.

His hand moves down a bit and his thumb pushes against my lips. I lick it, play with it and then release it with a pop, but just a moment later two of his fingers push into my mouth again.

He sinks in deep, my lips closing around them. Two is almost too much already. I start to lick them, to suck on his fingers, hesitatingly at first, but the little sounds that drop from his lips spur me on.

He moves them in unison with the pushes of his dick into me. The combined touches making me lose my mind fast. It almost was like he was fucking me from the front and back at the same time.

I gag around him, spit coats his digits as I suck them off like I would another part of him. And I guess, he is thinking about that as well, the heat in his gaze intensifying.

The sight mirrored back to me – of his dick pounding into me, while his fingers are fucking my mouth all sloppily, pushing into the wet heat, my lips barely reaching the lettering on his knuckles, is getting me worked up.

From the way he's looking at me, his eyes fixed on my face, while I swallow him up, it's driving him crazy too. Groaning, as I take him deep.

Him, just him, fucking me. And me at his mercy. Full, so full of him. And I can't help but think about what it would be like to have him fill all of my holes. The thought alone sends a tingle of filthy desire down my spine and I hum around him.

"Fuck, look at you, taking me so well.", he drawls. His words, the soft growl in them, wash over me and I can feel the zap of pleasure deep, when he bottoms me out, his dick hitting the right spot again.

I come, my body arching off the sheets, my sighs and screams muffled by the fingers in my mouth, as my eyes roll back.

He doesn't stop, fucking me through it. My pussy squeezes around him, and while I still come down from the orgasm, I can feel his other hand grabbing my hip, holding tight. His fingers still in my mouth, stroking against my tongue. Sinking into my throat, the letters on his knuckles disappearing as he pushes further in, and I gag around them once again.

They leave my mouth, all of a sudden, and I take a deep breath. "Please fuck, I-", he groans. "I want to come in your mouth. May I?" The inflection in his voice is almost pleading.

I nod, the thought alone sending another shiver of arousal through me. “Yes.”, I answer breathlessly, still a little hazy from my orgasm.

He pulls back entirely, his dick slipping out of my pussy. I scramble onto my knees, while he gets up from the bed, standing in front of it.

Getting off the condom quickly, his hand running up and down his length, continuing to chase his release. My spit is still on the two digits that were just inside me, now slowly coating his cock.

I press a soft kiss to the tip that is leaking precum, tasting the saltiness on my tongue. Flicking it over the piercing. My eyes pan up, searching for his, before I take him a little deeper into my mouth. Sucking on his tip while he jerks himself off. Hasty and desperate. A rumbly moan shakes his chest, his eyes rolling back.

"Fuck, gonna cum.", he mutters, the words all breathy.

I hum around his dick, licking and sucking eagerly, when he spills onto my tongue and down my throat. I lick up every single drop, swallowing it all. He shakes and shivers when I don't stop sucking until he's spent.

I release him with pop, when his fingers grip my chin, and open my mouth to show him. "Good fucking girl.", he drawls, the praise washing over me, as I sit back on my knees. He crouches down a bit, his eyebrows raised in anticipation. Like he's waiting for something, but he doesn't say anything.

My cheeks blush red, as I remember what we talked about before. "Thank you, Sir.", I say, looking him straight into his eyes.

His answer is a deep satisfied sound, almost turning into a growl, as he leans forward, capturing my mouth in a kiss. Crawling into bed again, pulling me onto his front, until I’m strewn over him like a blanket that isn’t even big enough for the big man. He’s softly stroking my back, the touches comforting and gentle.

I push my cheek into his pecs, the hairs on his chest tickling the soft skin, and I breathe in his scent. The warm calming tone. I feel his upper body rising and sinking with every single breath of his, until we are in unison. The deep calmness almost carries me away, and I feel myself getting sleepy. I mean, we didn’t get a lot of sleep. And getting fucked liked this was tiring, although not tiresome at all.

In the silence around us, a thought of mine cuts through post-fuck haze.

“I don’t wanna go home.”, I whisper against his chest, after looking for the right words to say.

His hand stops for just a second. “Then don't.”, he answers simply, continuing his soft caresses.

I lift my head from his pec, looking at him. “Are you sure? I don't want to disturb your vacation.”, I ask.

“I'm not on vacation, I'm on leave.”, he explains. “And you're not disturbing anything.” A little reassuring smile is appearing on his lips.

“I didn’t bring much though. Not even like any more clothes.”, I say hesitatingly.

“Would it be terribly selfish of me to put you in my stuff to keep you here?”, he asks, the smile widening a bit.

I laugh. “I fear, I won't fit into any of that. I mean, I think I could build a tent to sleep in from the shirts you wear.”

“That's fair.”, he grins at me, pushing my hair out of my face. And then he kisses me again, sweet and slow, until I sigh against his lips.

“You have to stop kissing me like that.”, I say, teasingly.

His smirk drops from his face. “Why?”, he asks.

“Because it makes me want to sit on your dick again.”, I jokingly confess.

He starts laughing, his whole body shaking. “That can be arranged.”, he grins at me.

“But – we can’t stay in bed the whole weekend.”, I retort.

“We can’t?”, he pipes up, his question somewhere between a pouty joke and sincere query.

I think about it for a second. “Mmh, I don’t know. Might tire you out, old man.”, I tease him, sticking my tongue out at him.

His eyes light up, all of a sudden, I get flipped, the whole world is spinning around me. He is on top of me, his weight presses me down into the mattress. His thighs spread my legs for him, his dick lying over my tummy, already hard again.

He grabs another condom. “If you keep this up, we’re gonna go through the whole packet.”, he jokes, one side of his mouth topping up in a smirk.

“Is that a challenge?”, I ask, caressing down his chest, inching in on his dick, while he is still fiddling with the rubber.

He grabs my wrists and pins them over my head, stretching me out on the mattress, while I grin up at him, splayed out like that.

“If you want it to be…”, he whispers against my face, his lips kissing down to my neck while he pushes inside me.

The mug on the kitchen counter is still half full, the coffee now cold. I take a sip, relishing the milky liquid running down my throat. Sitting here at the kitchen island in just his shirt. The Dark Tranquility one he wore when we first met.

“What are you doing?”, he asks me, utterly confused, as he sees me. He put on his sweatpants again and they are as delicious as they were before. Especially in combination with his naked chest.

“Finishing my coffee.”, I explain, taking another long sip.

“But that’s… cold.”, he says, the disgust palpable.

“Yeah, I like it like that. I drink them lukewarm. At best.”, I explain, with full confidence.

“Woman, you drive me crazy.”, he sighs, then laughs, making himself another coffee. Fresh, hot and black. “One of these days, we’re gonna manage to drink the drinks at the temperature they’re so supposed to be enjoyed at.” The loud noise of the coffee maker cuts through my laughter.

“We can certainly try.”, I say, taking another sip from my blasphemous coffee.

“So, about your stuff.”, he starts, as he leans against the kitchen island. The mug in his hand is looking ridiculously small compared to him. Just like me.

“Yeah, my panties are kinda ruined now, too.” I say and shoot him a pointed look.

“I don’t have any panties that will fit you.”, he says, the corner of his lips quirking up.

“No shit sherlock.”, I remark sarcastically, lifting the shirt that is hanging from my shoulders. That’s almost reaching to my knees. You could fit three of me in there.

“We can go to your apartment, you can look after Mimi and get some clothes, and then come back here. It’s no big deal.”, he suggests.

I sigh. “You sure?”

He nods, just waiting for my answer patiently. While I contemplate if it was okay to stay here for longer.

“Okay, quickly, just to get some stuff.”, I agree.

When we go to leave, I notice that my shoes are neatly lined up, not at all how I left them, when I stormed into the house yesterday evening. Standing just right beside an old pair of his combat boots.

next part: painting his nails or more stuff in the Masterlist ~

[itsnotsoobiebobbie]

BTS REACTION: "YOU ARE MY WORLD"

i'm not fluent in english, forgive me for any mistakes!

genre: fluff

photo credits: @koovias

KIM SEOKJIN

In a small coastal town, where the sound of ocean waves mingled with the cool night breeze, you and Seokjin found yourselves at a special candlelit dinner. The restaurant, hidden among old alleys, was known for its cozy atmosphere and delicious dishes.

You had planned this night for weeks, aiming for everything to be perfect for Jin, who had always supported you through your toughest times and made you smile in your happiest moments. The candles placed around the table softly illuminated your faces, creating a glow in both of your eyes.

As you enjoyed red wine and talked about memories and future dreams, the soft music in the background seemed to accompany the harmony of the moment. Your boyfriend, with a serene smile, looked at you with admiration, feeling like the luckiest man in the world to have you by his side.

The main course arrived, and you savored every bite together. You noticed a small dab of sauce at the corner of Jin's lips and chuckled softly. "You're always making a mess," you said affectionately, wiping it off with a napkin.

When dinner ended and dessert was served, a comfortable silence settled between you. You gazed deeply into your boyfriend's eyes, your heart beating fast with the intensity of the moment. Slowly, you reached out and cradled his face in your palms, feeling the softness of his skin.

"Jin," you began, your voice soft and filled with emotion, "I'm holding my world."

His eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he covered your hands with his own. "(Y/N)," he replied, his voice choked with emotion, "you are my universe."

The world around seemed to fade away as you both remained in that moment, feeling the depth of the love you shared. The candles continued to burn, casting dancing shadows on the walls, silent witnesses to the promise of eternal love.

MIN YOONGI

It was a golden afternoon, and the sun poured over the vineyards of the picturesque winery where you and Yoongi had decided to spend the day. You walked hand in hand among the rows of vines, admiring the green leaves and the clusters of grapes hanging lazily.

The winery had a rustic charm, with old stone and wood buildings that told stories of decades of winemaking tradition. The air was scented with the aroma of ripe grapes and the faint smell of oak barrels. It was the perfect setting for a romantic date.

You took a tour of the winery, guided by a passionate winemaker who explained every detail of the wine production process, from the grape harvest to fermentation and aging in the dark, cool cellars. You listened attentively, but your eyes sparkled differently when you looked at your boyfriend.

After the tour, you were led to a tasting. You sat at an outdoor table overlooking the vineyards that stretched as far as the eye could see. Crystal glasses were filled with wines of different vintages and types, and each sip was a new discovery of flavors and aromas.

While tasting a full-bodied red wine, you placed your glass on the table and looked deeply into Yoongi's eyes. You leaned forward, with a soft smile on your lips, and cupped his face in your hands.

Yoongi was surprised, but your touch was so tender and filled with affection that he couldn't help but smile. He felt the warmth of your hands and the depth of your gaze, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to disappear.

You then said, with a soft and emotional voice, "You know, Yoon, when I hold your face like this, I feel like I'm holding the entire world. You are my world."

Your boyfriend felt a wave of emotion wash over him. Your words touched his heart deeply. He placed his hands over yours and squeezed gently, feeling an indescribable connection.

"(Y/N)," he replied, his voice choked with emotion, "you have no idea how much that means to me. I feel the same way. You are everything to me."

You stayed there, in silence, enjoying the moment, feeling the gentle breeze and the warmth of the sun setting on the horizon.

JUNG HOSEOK

It was a rainy Saturday afternoon, and you and Hoseok decided to turn the day into something special. You had set up a home spa, a sanctuary of tranquility. Soft aromas of lavender and eucalyptus filled the air, and lit candles cast a warm, golden glow over the space, creating an atmosphere of calm and intimacy.

You had prepared a selection of facial masks, bath salts, and essential oils, lighting scented candles around the house, while Hobi took care of the music, choosing a playlist of relaxing nature sounds. You started the afternoon with a bath full of rose petals, followed by a massage with essential oils that left both of you relaxed and refreshed.

After the bath, you sat on the sofa, dressed in soft robes. You began applying a clay mask to Hope’s face. He closed his eyes, feeling your hands working gently on his skin. When you finished, you wiped your hands and sat beside him, watching his face covered by the mask. There was something soothing about seeing your boyfriend relaxed, trusting you completely.

In a moment of pure tenderness, you cradled Hobi’s face in your hands. He opened his eyes, surprised by the delicacy of the gesture. Looking deeply into his eyes, you said softly: “Hope, you know that when I’m holding your face like this, I’m holding my world?”

Hobi felt a shiver run through his body. Your words touched his heart in a way he had never felt before. There was something powerful and comforting in the idea of being someone’s world, in the certainty that for you, he was everything.

He smiled and held your hands that were still on his face. “(Y/N), I never thought I could feel so special. Thank you for making me feel this way.”

You leaned in for a gentle kiss, sealing that moment of love and mutual understanding. The afternoon continued with more moments of affection, heartfelt conversations, and laughter, strengthening the bond that united you.

KIM NAMJOON

On a sunny summer afternoon, you and Namjoon decided to spend the day at a farm on the outskirts of the city. The farm was vast, with fields of sunflowers, apple orchards, and a stream winding through the land. Upon arriving, you felt the fresh air and the scent of nature.

You walked hand in hand through the blooming fields, laughing and talking about your lives, dreams, and plans for the future. With your hair blowing in the wind, you couldn’t contain the happiness you felt being there with your boyfriend. He, with his captivating smile, seemed like he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

At one point, as you approached a majestic tree, you stopped and looked intently at Namjoon. He watched you with curiosity, not quite understanding what you were thinking. You moved closer, gently cradled his face in your hands, and with eyes shining with emotion, said: “Namjoon, I’m holding my world.”

He was surprised and moved by the declaration. He felt a wave of love and gratitude flood his heart. With a shy smile, he asked: “What do you mean by that, (Y/N)?”

You looked deeply into his eyes and replied: “You are my world, Joon. When I’m with you, I feel like I have everything I need. You make me feel safe, loved, and complete. At this moment, holding your face, I feel like I’m holding everything that is most important to me.”

Touched by your words, he pulled you into a tight embrace. He felt the warmth and sincerity of your love. With a soft kiss on your forehead, he whispered: “You are my world too, (Y/N). And I will do everything I can to make sure you always feel this way, safe and loved.”

You stayed there, embraced under the shade of the tree, listening to the sound of the wind through the leaves and the distant chirping of birds. The world around seemed to pause, leaving only love to fill the space and time.

PARK JIMIN

It was a summer afternoon, and the sky was clear and blue. You and Jimin decided to have a picnic in the park. The place was perfect: a large tree provided pleasant shade, and the lush green lawn seemed to invite you to spread out a blanket and relax.

You prepared a basket full of goodies: fresh sandwiches, fruit, homemade cookies, and a bottle of orange juice. Jimin brought a soft blanket and a small speaker to play your favorite songs.

You laughed and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. The gentle breeze made the leaves of the trees whisper, creating a peaceful melody. After eating, you lay down on the blanket, gazing at the sky.

“Look at that cloud,” Jimin said, pointing to a formation that resembled a dragon.

You laughed. “It looks more like a winged horse to me.”

“Maybe it’s a winged dragon, then.” he teased.

You fell silent for a moment, simply enjoying each other’s company. Then, you sat up and looked deeply into Jimin’s eyes. Without saying a word, you gently cradled his face in your hands.

Your boyfriend furrowed his brow, curious: “What’s wrong, love?”

You smiled, your eyes shining with a mix of love and seriousness. “You know, mochi, when I’m holding your face like this, I feel like I’m holding my world.”

Jimin felt his heart skip a beat. He knew you were serious. To you, he was more than just a boyfriend; he was your safe harbor, your confidant, your best friend.

“You are my world, (Y/N),” he said, his voice full of emotion. “And I would do anything to make you happy.”

You leaned in and kissed him gently, feeling the warmth and sincerity in every word. You spent the rest of the afternoon together, laughing, talking, and dreaming about the future. As the sun began to set, painting the sky with shades of pink and orange, you snuggled into Jimin’s arms, feeling truly at home.

KIM TAEHYUNG

It was a Friday night, and you and Taehyung decided to spend time together in a different way: a game night with punishments and rewards to spice up the competition. The living room was illuminated by soft lights, and the coffee table was filled with board games, cards, and snacks.

“Ready to lose?” you teased with a mischievous smile.

“We’ll see who loses!” Tae retorted, determined.

The first game of the night was Jenga. Each block removed increased the tension, and both knew that whoever toppled the tower would face a punishment. After several rounds, it was Tae who, with a trembling hand, toppled the structure.

You laughed loudly. “I think you deserve a punishment. How about dancing the Macarena for a full minute?”

Your boyfriend blushed but accepted the challenge. He stood up and began dancing, eliciting laughter from you.

After Jenga, you moved on to Uno. The cards flew across the table as you tried to outplay each other. When you finally won, you demanded your reward: a shoulder massage. Taehyung, ever the gentleman, agreed and started to gently massage your shoulders.

Later, you decided to play Truth or Dare. The game took an intimate turn when you chose dare and Taehyung asked you to say something you had never said before. You thought for a moment, looking into his eyes.

“Tae, I want to hold your face,” you asked softly.

He complied, and you placed your hands on his face, your thumbs gently caressing his cheeks. Taehyung closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.

“Tae,” you said. He opened his eyes and looked directly at you. “When I hold your face like this, I feel like I’m holding my world. You are everything to me.”

Taehyung was left speechless, his eyes shining with emotion. He leaned in to kiss you, a kiss full of love and gratitude.

The night continued with more games, laughter, and confessions, but your declaration remained etched in Taehyung’s heart.

JEON JUNGKOOK

It was a sunny and hot summer day, perfect for a trip to the water park. You and Jungkook decided to spend your day off together, seeking moments of fun and relaxation. The park was filled with families, children laughing, and adults cooling off in the various water attractions.

After going down the colorful slides several times and enjoying some laughs in the wave pool, you decided to explore the lazy river. You grabbed inflatable rafts and let yourselves be carried by the calm, refreshing current. The sun shone brightly, reflecting off the water and creating little sparkles that danced around you.

With your wet hair and radiant eyes, you looked at Jungkook while holding onto the edge of his raft. He smiled back, feeling a tranquil happiness that only a perfect day like this could bring. The trees surrounding the lazy river provided shade, creating a pleasant contrast to the heat of the day.

As you floated along, you talked about everything and nothing, laughing at the little things and sharing secrets. The sound of the flowing water and the laughter in the background created a gentle symphony that filled the air.

Suddenly, you stopped talking and moved closer to Jungkook. With a gentle motion, you cradled his face in your hands, your eyes meeting his in an intense and affectionate gaze. He was surprised by the sudden action but returned the look, feeling the warmth of your hands on his skin.

“Kookie,” you said softly, with a smile that lit up your face. “I’m holding my world.”

He blinked, not immediately understanding. “What do you mean?”

“You are my world,” you explained, still holding his face. “When I touch you, I feel like I’m holding everything that’s important to me. You are my happiness, my peace, my love. And being here with you, on a perfect day like this, makes me feel like I need nothing else.”

Jungkook felt a wave of emotion wash over him. Your words touched his heart in a deep and unexpected way. He held your hands, still on his face, and leaned in, giving you a soft kiss.

“I feel the same way, (Y/N),” he said, looking into your eyes with tenderness. “You mean everything to me.”

You stayed like that for a moment, just looking at each other, feeling the deep and sincere connection you shared. The world around seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, floating together in the lazy river of the water park, holding your worlds in your hands.

[macaron-n-cheese]

Ideal college experience

Colonial Williamsburg held a welcome for us! This was the first time this event has happened in 10 years. The fife and drum band was there and played the alma mater. There were a ton of interpreters, music, and small exhibits/entertainment. They read quotes college alumni and Williamsburg citizens who had connections to the college. They even read is a convocation speech in Latin from the mid 18th century (I believe George Wythe's). And finally, they gave us a fireworks show! It was amazing and now a core memory.

Going to my first class

My first class and homework I have for it. I can't believe I get to talk about my favorite movies and tv shows in the cellar of a ~330 year old college building.

Convocation

William & Mary in the student center :)

[paddockbunny]

Chapter Four

Summary: Turning up to the paddock had perhaps been one of the worst decisions you possibly could have made but at least you didn't let the evening go to waste. Now, after the events of that weekend you had to face the music…..and be saved when things didn’t go so well Pairing : Max Verstappen x Reader Rating :18+. Word Count: 5, 749 Trigger Warnings : IT'S BASICALLY ALL ANGST AND SMUT! NSFW, 18+, adult content, adult language, LOTS of Christian Horner in this chapter, PinV sex, protected sex, sad potentially triggering family dynamics Authors Note : Ah I really hope you guys like it now it's been turned into a fic, hope it doesn't disappoint! If you wish to be added (or removed) from the Tag List please DM me so I see it! Sending everyone love

You turned off the key to the ignition and a large exhale left your body. Of all the places in the world you could have been, here was the last place on earth you wanted to be. You took a cursory glace to the side of you, glimpsing fleetingly at the old fashioned farmhouse that now played host to your “family.” Every time you came back here to your father’s big sprawling estate equipped with its own stream for fishing, horse stables and fucking wine cellar even though no one could possibly drink that much wine, you couldn’t help but feel reminiscent. Not of the rather ostentatious abode your father and his family now resided but how much it reminded you of the somewhat humbler home you grew up in yourself when it was just the three of you, him, you and your mother. Hell, your childhood home would have paled in comparison to this palace. But at least you had some happy memories before Geraldine and the fame of his position in F1 went to your father’s head.

You grabbed Monty’s birthday present off the passenger seat of your car and took deep, steady inhale. Monty was the sole reason you were here. If it weren’t for keeping a promise to your little brother that you would come to his birthday party then you wouldn’t be anywhere near this place at all. Thing was immediately after leaving your hotel room in the early hours of the following morning - post celebratory all night fucking after his win – Max texted you and started hounding you about flying out and spending a few days with him in Monaco. And those texts he sent were very, very hard to resist. They always started innocently enough, claiming he just wanted to show you around but quickly they always descended into a familiar, smutty tone. You knew that if you had flown out to Monaco the only place you would be seeing would be Max Verstappen’s bedroom – and his shower, and his sofa, and his balcony and his kitchen counter top. Now you had gotten to know him better, you knew Max would want to be inside of you as much as he possibly could. And although the idea naturally excited you and aroused more than just your interest, you turned him down on grounds you were worried about how so much sex might affect his next performance (and of course upsetting little Monty by skipping his party). As you got out of the safety of your car you smiled while remembering the dick pic he sent you last night when he pleaded his case again for the umpteenth time. Your memory instantly recalling how desperate his purpling tip looked for some release and the veins that ran up and down his girthy shaft were fit for bursting. Cat like you practically licked your lips thinking about him being in your mouth. You couldn’t help imagining your tongue swirling around him, licking up and down his length and God, the sheer thought of taste of him was enough to get your panties damp. But as the gravel crunched underfoot while you walked up toward the doorway to your father and his new families home, you pushed the thought of Monaco, Max and his cock out of your mind.     

The place was awash with kids and their adults. From the kitchen you could see Geraldine was very much in charge, holding court amongst the parents while your father stood pretending to listen by her side. It was clear even just from inside that no expense had been spared on Monty’s fifth birthday. Trampolines, bouncy castles, balloon arches, the full fucking Instagrammable shebang. Watching the scene outside from behind the window, you could admit that it was hard for you not to feel a little bitter. You thought back to your birthday parties as a kid and could only recall one or two where your father was even present and even at that, you didn’t exactly have a party like this one. For you it was a few banners, paper hats and a customary Colin the Caterpillar cake. Not the lavish excessive parade of wealth Geri had managed to wrangle out of your notoriously tight fisted father. But then again you had to remind yourself that these were his “second chance children” and they’d be sure to get everything you never did, including his time and respect. You turned, ready to go out and make a fuss of your innocent brother when you caught sight of a bottle of opened champagne sitting ignored on a counter top. A few swigs for Dutch courage wouldn’t kill you – your father was probably still simmering about your paddock appearance after all.

“MONTY!” You shouted loudly, deliberately putting on a display of unwavering resilience. You spied him on the bouncy castle and held out your arms for him to come running into after he managed to get off. He squealed your name excitedly and ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. Regardless of what hurt you had felt in your life at the end of your fathers opinion and temper, you had to admit you did love this little adorable curly haired boy. He was so innocent and loving and you clamped your arms around him firmly when he leaped into your arms for a hug. You had missed all of his prior birthdays – due to Uni or just feeling plain unwelcome – so you were glad to make the appearance today just for him. He excitedly told you all of the presents he had gotten and who they were from before begging you to play them all with him because you were the “bestest” at knowing what to do and the sheer happiness in his little face made all of the worry in your body seem inconsequential. And then you felt a hand touch your shoulder and looked up to see Geri, smiling down at you.

“Thank-you.” She said instead of a hello, throwing her matchstick like arms around your body. “He’s been telling everyone his big sister was coming all day.” It made your heart swell but in the same passing moment you thought of how it felt like when you had been left devastated and crestfallen on so many of your own birthdays when your dad failed to make an appearance. “Would you like a slice of cake?” She smiled broadly and began leading you over toward where the adults were gathered. Geri had this peculiar knack of staring at you so intently with her blue eyes that you found yourself saying yes even if you meant no, probably how she managed to lure your dad away from your mum that was another hole down which you did not want to fucking spiral so followed her lead over toward the patio.

“Nice of you to come.” Your dad was clearly still in a mood with you and there was no way the rest of the parents here did not notice the cool manner in which he greeted you with. Somehow, you always felt five years old in his presence. Wanting to cling on to his leg and hide behind it like the shy child inside of you but also wanting to do or say something that would make him proud and boastful – the irony of which he had displayed toward the man you were friends with benefits with more than you yourself was not lost on you – but alas today would not be one of those days. “Anything for Monty.” “Not strictly true is it? He’s five now and you haven’t been to a single one of his birthdays before” He said it in his typical smartass voice he usually reserved for people he saw as opponents. Toto Wolff received this tone of voice from him on many occasions, of which you were utterly sure. You noticed how a few of the seated females at the table you two were standing behind turned and glanced at you. The looks simply read; “so that’s the eldest one?” & “I can’t believe he has an older daughter, especially one like that” which almost made you want to reach between them at the bottle of wine on the table and down it in front of them so they had their gossip. “Well…” You geared yourself up “I’m here this time, like he wished for.” Even when you were included you weren’t and felt like this was another one of your miscalculations.

After a while of uncomfortable silence between you and your dad, you noticed Geri heading back into the house and remembered the other reason that you had made such an effort to come today. You needed to ascertain exactly what Geri thought she knew about you and Max and take the right course of action. One course of said action you had decided was telling her she was imagining things, that Max was just being polite and her idea of something going on between the pair of you was a purely fictional fantasy from her side – gaslight her if you will. The other was to work out if (or perhaps when) she would tell your father and if she was going to deliberately ruin things for you. That would require more of your strength and acting skills. You would grudge giving her the satisfaction of begging because she would probably get high off the power she could wield over you in the moment, but you were enjoying things with Max too much to want it to stop so were prepared to swallow your pride and do what had to be done. You found her in the kitchen, unplugging her phone so she could no doubt post about the day all over her social media (as if people actually cared) and sort of cornered her.

“I was wondering if I could uh…have a word?” Why were you suddenly all nervous? It wasn’t because of her, nor the slightly awkward conversation that was about to take place, so maybe it was simply the thought of Max. “Is this about M.A.X?” She acted like a giddy 15 year-old schoolgirl as she relished in spelling out his name. An uneasy feeling descended upon your body when a dastardly smirk appeared across her face and you knew she was taking a lot of pleasure from this. Instinctively you made a simple glance to the side and noticed how close some people were to the door so tilted your head and motioned for her to follow you out of earshot into the dining room, where you perched on the edge of the table. “I don’t know what it is you think you…” “Know?” She finished the sentence for you and in that second you found her unreadable until her shoulders dropped and she smiled less villainously. She softly said your name and touched your arm. “I see the way the pair of you look at each other. That’s it.” In a few words your head started spinning. How did you look at each other? With complete wanton desire and utter desperation? Did pure carnal thoughts and lust paint itself all over both of your faces? Did everyone else see what she so evidently did? Your brain went into overdrive trying to decipher whatever the hell she meant so quickly that you almost missed the fact she was adding to it. “And then when you turned up in the paddock, well…. that was a very clear indication that something must have happened between you two. I thought maybe it might have just been in my mind; I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want my little plan of inviting you to the annual barbeque to result in you and Max…y’know…” She trailed off with a brow wiggle to infer she had been hoping to get you and Max together. “Anyway, then you had a headache and so did he and then I saw that wrapper on the floor when we came by and I just knew.”

“Was that why you came by that night? To find out if something was going on? To catch us at it or something?” You bit straight away; forgetting that she might have linked on to the last words leaving your lips and suddenly your heart rate skipped and you could feel it thundering away in your chest. “Actually, it wasn’t my idea to come. Believe it or not after the race when Max won, your dad felt bad about sending you away and it was him that wanted to check on you.” You weren’t entirely sure you believed her. She always tried to play something of a mediator between your father and you and so this situation reeked of her interference. And with that silence descended between the pair of you. You didn’t want to admit anything to her because right now you were holding something of a metaphorical upper hand. She only suspected something and she only suspected Max. “Anything that may or may not be going on between Max and I is not anyone else’s business.” It was a good diversion. You didn’t need to confirm or deny anything but Geri still eyed you up suspiciously. “If you’re worried I’m going to tell your dad, don’t be. This is something that you are in control of, you and Max…or not Max….” Her hand reached out and squeezed your arm again in a rather motherly way and you realised she was silently telling you not to worry about her spilling her guts to anyone. She would keep quiet. “Plus, I don’t know how your father would react. He would maybe cut the breaks on Max’s car or something.” Geri added with a nervous sounding giggle. You swallowed, you knew you gave her a hard time at times – well after the shit show that your early teens were due to her who could blame you – but this was one of the rare moments that you actually rather found yourself loving your stepmother.

It only took a further 45 minutes for the peace of mind Geri had provided you with to come crashing down like a lead balloon. You had gone back outside, ate a slice of cake, bounced on the bouncy castle with the kids and then come back off feeling a little queasy so fetched a drink from the bar behind the adults table. You were close to selecting a glass of champagne but chose the safe option and went for a sparkling water instead. And that was when your dad appeared at the side of you and asked for a word almost simultaneously, a familiar sinking feeling cast down upon you. You didn’t have to wonder very hard to know it was about your unannounced appearance at his workplace. The vein on his temple practically throbbing away as he put his hands on his hips like you were a member of the media and not his eldest child. You had to be at leas thankful for the small mercy he had pulled you away from the foray of guests that would no doubt relish in hearing some Horner family gossip.

He didn’t speak but rather stared at you disapprovingly. It was clear and obvious waiting on you to talk first, to apologise or grovel, and judging by the rather alarming knot in your stomach your body was telling you not to do. But then the silence finally became unbearable and you cracked under the pressure. “I know you’re angry with me about turning up to that race but…” “Angry? No I was angry when you strolled into my garage before the race. Now I’m disappointed in your choices that led to you strolling into my garage in the first place.” Disappointed was the only word you heard. It seemed to be a running theme with him being disappointed in you so at least it didn’t break any habits. “Had I not made myself clear before, on all the countless occasions you asked…” You hadn’t asked on countless occasions. You asked twice, both times while Daniel was still with the team and you were an impressionable teenager with a crush. His voice was still going and you had to zone back in to hear what he was saying.

“It was a display of nothing more than sheer defiance of an order. You knew you were not allowed and still persisted anyway. I’m sure if I asked Max about it myself he would confirm that you harangued him into giving you that pass just so you could try and embarrass me. Was that why you decided to go? You wanted to embarrass me? Steal limelight from the team? Because that was what everyone thought of it as. Me, Geri, Helmut, the team, Max…” Max did? You raised your head. “Yes Max. He told me so after the race. He felt lied too. Taken advantage of by you and your silly little notions.” It stung you a little because now you weren’t sure if you could trust him but you knew what your father was like and how he would be overwhelmingly persistent until someone gave him the answer he was seeking. You thought you were handling his tirade pretty well. He had been continuing as you tried to pinpoint the moment in your life things had gone so awfully wrong between the pair of you – even if you weren’t entirely sure that there could be just one in particular – and tried to block every word he was subsequently hitting you with until he brought up your mother. “You’re just like your mother” And that raised a scoff out of you. Their divorce had been nasty but at least she didn’t cheat on her husband, leave her for a fucking Spice Girl and abandon her role as a parent. Upon hearing your scoff you felt the pressure of the moment radiating off your father. “I don’t understand why I’m so unwelcome.” You didn’t mean specifically regarding the issue of the paddock but that was what he focused on.

“Because there is no way in hell I trust you around so many good looking, rich young men. I remember the look in your eyes at Ricciardo a few years ago and I won’t have you making a fool of yourself at the expense of my name when you attempt to fling yourself at one them.” The sexism that exuded from your father was predictable and didn’t even sound that bad compared to some of the things he said over the years. But this time the difference was that you actively had to stop yourself from scoffing again at the irony of the situation you found yourself in with none other than his own golden driver. You wondered how sweet it would be to just out the fact you had been shagging Max behind his back in front of all these people and the scene it would likely create. But a loud squeal from the children playing on the lawn was a sudden reminder not to be the cause of any upset. After all, the fact it was his son’s birthday was all that was keeping him back from shouting at you like you knew he wanted too. “Perhaps its best you leave.” He stated bluntly. “I promised Monty I would play with…” “He’ll forget about it. Just go.”

You had had plenty of words over the years but for some reason today felt like some of the worst. He had never ordered you to leave before, ever. And you wanted to believe it was because of all of Geri’s rich, fancy, posh friends and your dad not wanting to cause a scene but you knew it was because he was teetering dangerously close to saying things that he would never be able to take back and perhaps damage the remnants of a relationship with you irrevocably. When he got mad, no one on earth was madder. What people saw in the F1 paddock could be seen as child’s play compared to what you had seen and yet as you glanced over at your half brother you did indeed head inside of the house to retrieve your things and sneak away out of the front door. You couldn’t be bothered to put up with a fight today.

While your expensive trainer clad feet crunched again on the stony gravel of the driveway, you took your phone from your bag as you made your way toward your car. Your finger hovered for a moment over the icon for call but you pushed the reservations out of your mind and did it anyway. It only took a few short rings, ones that synchronised perfectly with your step, but when you finally heard his accented voice you felt like a century had passed. You took a long deep inhale as you unlocked your car and hastily opened the drivers door.

“Does your offer still stand? Do you think I could catch a flight out tonight?”

****

You admired the beautiful view out of the helicopter window. The trip from Nice to Monaco was shortest by heli taxi and although you didn’t particularly like flying in helicopters you felt filled with a strange excitement. Both at where you were landing and whom exactly it was that was waiting down on the ground to pick you up. Max had arranged everything for you after your phone call. It was all done so quickly it was as if he was actively waiting on you to phone him. You hadn’t explained to him the reasons for your sudden change of mind but when the screenshot of your boarding pass came through you had never felt such a feeling of relief before and mentally thanked him for helping you escape from your horrid day. The pilot suddenly announced to you that you would be landing in two minutes and a strange calmness passed over your body. It was as if your self conscience knew that this was where you were supposed to be right now to “recover” from the one sided argument you had had with your dad. And indeed, as you strolled through the miniscule terminal with your luggage beside you, you couldn’t hide your smile. You had to remind yourself not to leap on him as soon as you saw him but it was a struggle when you saw him leaning against his car smiling straight back at you, reminding you of some stupid Disney prince, your knight in shining fucking armour.

“Hey you….” He purred into the flesh of your neck as you wrapped your arms around his. Peacefulness swept over your entire body as he held you and you allowed yourself to register it, drink it in and lock it in your memory to remind you what it felt like forever. As he pulled back you watched him as he glanced side to side quickly and just as you were about to laugh and ask what he was doing his hand found the back of your head and he pressed his lips against yours. It was more than what you needed. It was absolutely everything. A sigh escaped from you and made its way into his mouth and he couldn’t help but smirk against your lips. “That much huh?” He asked and you knew he was referring to how much you needed him, craved him and yearned for him. But he didn’t try to jest with you. He didn’t try and make light of what it was that brought you here. He didn’t try to reduce it down to the friends with benefits situation you now found yourself in with him. Instead he just lulled a gentle “let's get you home” and that was that.

As the strange knot in your stomach – the one that had pretty much been there all day – tightened again Max seemed to pick up on your slightly agitated state. He had to have noticed how you couldn’t stop biting your lip, twirling your hair or picking at your manicure. “Was your brother’s birthday party today?” He asked and your head rolled back against the headrest when you turned to look at him. You nodded and he caught it when he glanced at you. “Let's not talk about that.” It came out of you in nothing louder than a whisper - you didn't trust yourself not to get emotional - and Max nodded in agreement but it only took him a further 30 seconds to add; “If there’s something on your mind….”

“Nothing that matters.” Your reply was as soft as your earlier plea not to talk about it. You didn’t want anything about your ridiculous family being spoken about when they were the ones you were here to forget even existed.

*****

Max held open his apartment door but let you in first ahead of him. Standing in the hallway you felt like it wasn’t as bachelor pad-esque as you had been expecting. There was softness to the area that you pinned as a woman’s touch, his mother’s perhaps - you had done your research after that day in your fathers Aston Martin and concluded he wasn’t in any form of neither serious nor public relationship and therefore was pretty much free game in your eyes. As the door closed behind you, the reason you were there flooded back to you and all you suddenly wanted was him him to make you feel better. You wanted him to simply erase the memory of today straight out of your mind. So the sound of the door closing was your signal. With haste you turned simultaneously and pressed your body against his while your mouth found his. His keys tumbled from his palm and made a loud clattering noise on the floor as his palm was suddenly on your neck as a shaky breath poured from him into your open mouth. You were so hopelessly desperate for him that your hands trailed down toward the waistband of his jeans to urge him to take this to the bedroom. Max took your deliberate action to mean exactly what you wanted it too and his hands slipped down your back and he used his strength to pick you up, clean off your feet, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you off to his bedroom.

You were thankful at Max’s hasty speed in getting you undressed and how he could turn you on like a tap. As you ran your hands through his soft hair his mouth had already began its decent down your chest and a heavy sigh left your open mouth when he took your nipple in his mouth and grazed over it with his teeth. Max practically purred when he heard your gasp when he sunk his teeth in a little harder before placing a tender kiss against the flesh he had just had in his mouth. You could feel how Max’s foreplay had had the desired effect of you. You could feel how slick you were getting between your thighs and you were so wet you were ready to beg for him. But Max was one step ahead of you.

“What do you want?” He breathed against your neck and you couldn’t deny the tingle it sent all over your body, pure undeniable excitement. Your hips lifted off of his bed against pushed against his. His cock brushing against your core told you of his own excitement and what he wanted too. “Fuck me…” It left you as more of a whine than you intended but his smirk told you he liked it. And with your vocalised encouragement Max repositioned himself, pulling your leg up around his hip how he wanted it and you felt the tip of his cock slide up and down your folds, both collecting some of your wetness but you also knew it was because he wanted to tease you.

His mouth grazed over yours, his lips practically capturing your own as finally he slowly gave you a few inches of his thick cock and your mouth fell open against his. You moaned his name and he pulled out before teasing you with a few more inches. The stretch from his girthy cock made your breath tremble. Then as he repeated the action, he halted and asked you to open your eyes and look at him. His iceberg blue orbs stared straight into your soul and you felt like he was capturing something inside of you that you weren’t able to withhold from him. And then as his eyes transfixed on yours, he finally gave you all of himself. Filling you up, straight up to the hilt. Max stayed there for the shortest of moments before he decided now was when he would start slowly building his pace. His hips ground against yours with every thrust while a grunt toppled from his open mouth. Your breathing started to unsteady itself with each of the powerful, long thrusts Max made and you encouraged him to go faster – and harder – by raking your nails across the flesh of his shoulders.

With every passing moment you felt yourself become more and more undone. Max’s cock was angled just right. Continually hitting that spot inside of you that drove you closer and closer to the edge. This was exactly what you imagined in your head when you received the text containing the screenshot of your ticket from him this afternoon. It was what you thought of when you sat on the flight from England to France a few hours ago. But mostly it was what you had anticipated when you made the call asking if he still wanted you when you had been cast out of your father’s home this afternoon. It wasn’t revenge – in the manner which perhaps other people would have thought it would have been – it was just to feel wanted, desired, and in some nonsensical way that made some resemblance of sense in a deep dark part of your brain, loved. You hadn’t realised that you had momentarily zoned out until Max slowed his rhythm and gently caressed your cheek.

“Hey, are you ok? Do you want to stop?” Your eyes found his again and words failed you but no, you didn’t want to stop. Your lips pressed against his as if you were trying to telepathically thank him for making you feel so alive and worthy. But you felt his cock twitch inside of you and without a second thought you used every shred of strength inside of you to turn your positions over so you were on top.

A pleased, admirable sigh left Max’s mouth as he gripped hold of your hips as you steadied yourself with flat hands on his chest. You watched his eyes cast over your perfectly naked frame. Focusing on your chest before falling downwards to your open legs straddling his lap. Instinctively you allowed him his time to stare at you, wanting him to take you in, before you slipped your hand down, between your thighs and grasp hold of his throbbing, still erect cock and slowly lowered yourself down upon it. Max felt impossibly large like this and if he was hitting the spot before he was doing it even more so now. You moaned as you took all of him and it mixed with a groan that erupted out of him.

“Fuck…” He swore when you finally started moving. His fingertips pressing into the flesh of your hips so tightly you knew he would be leaving bruises but you didn’t care. Another groan cascaded from his open mouth and you knew he was close. The thought of your own orgasm – which only moments ago was building to an almost impossible crescendo - was now far from your mind as you were solely focused on him for no other reason than as a thank-you for saving you today. And as you reached behind you, placing your hand on his thigh for support and so he had a better view of himself inside of you, you picked up the pace a little more till you knew he was ready to cum. You saw all of the signs or rather you knew all of Max’s tell tale signs he was about to reach his high. His eyes squeezed shut, brow furrowed. He mouth agape gasping and stifling his own moans. His breathing was hitching and he was struggling to keep it steady. His stomach clenched and you could feel him beginning to twitch inside of you. You purred his name a few times and on the last one, when your mouth was open and your eyes shut tightly, Max sat bolt up right and held you in place as he finally found his release. His arms were around you, holding you tightly as his milky seed poured out of him into the condom he was wearing but you none the less felt his cock pulsate at the feeling of his climax.

“Just…give me ten…” He panted as he fell back against the plush pillows and you smugly trailed your hands across his shoulders before dismounting his lap. You watched the rise and fall of his chest as he fought to regain control of his breathing and it provided you with the rhythm to regain your own. You hadn’t even realised you were still panting until you heard him taking a few long deep (still shaky) breaths. “…You didn’t get off, I need to fix that.” The fact he noticed that he had gotten his while you hadn’t, was something you couldn’t help but mentally note. He couldn’t have possibly been that in tune with your body yet so figured you should telepathically thank all the women who had come before you who had taught him so well. “You don’t have too.” You said as you lay down beside him and although you really did want him to make you cum, it wasn’t the most important thing to you in that moment. In truth, you felt rather at odds with yourself now that you lay in his bed. Almost like you could admit how easy it would be to fall in love with Max instead of just keeping up the “fuck buddies” or “friends with benefits” titles that the pair of you seemed to silently agree upon without even a discussion.

“I want to.” His head turned toward you and he smiled, not smirked this time, at you as if he was silently informing you that your satisfaction was his only priority right now. And that was all it took to ignite something inside of you.   

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^if you tag isn’t working please make sure you have your setting turned on to allow me to tag you please 🙂 sometimes it’s just this app playing up so it might work next time x

[arcadiabaytornado]

Trying To Sum Up The ✨Vibe✨ Of Each Song On The Before The Storm Soundtrack

Theme Music - Sitting on a bench in the woods in the middle of fall. The world moves all around you, but you take a moment to just breathe in the crisp air and watch nature exist.

Numbers - The numb but somehow still slightly panicky feeling right after a panic attack.

Are You Ready For Me - A huge fight involving more than ten people where chairs are being used as a melee weapon and at least five things are going to end up broken.

No Below - Having a deep conversation with a friend about trauma at 3AM, and coming to the realization that your lives are similar in the most unfortunate ways.

Burn It Down - Something happens and you feel so angry about it that you can't even feel rage anymore, just a numb apathy that boils under the skin.

Through The Cellar Door - Spending one on one time with a crush for the first time and being worried about being irredeemably awkward while also being to giddy to truly care.

More Undercut

Burning The Midnight Oil Again - Riding in the car with your parents when a song comes on that makes them get a forlorn look in their eyes. You don't know what it's about, and they won't tell you, so you just listen to the song together in silence.

Skip's Demo - Dressing punk rock for the first time as a teenager and feeling so cool that you just want someone to try you so you can show how badass you are. (Not really though. you just want to daydream about it.)

Youth - An ex-relationship where one person changed for the better and one person changed for the worst, or maybe one person changed a lot and one person never changed at all.

No Care - Feeling the overwhelming sensation of "Fuck it!" so strongly that you genuinely feel invincible.

Taking You There - Talking with a friend or romantic partner about what your lives would be like if you traveled the world together or lived together, and making up all the outlandish but super fun scenarios your heart desires.

I Don't - The first month after a break up where you've gone no contact with your ex after breaking up with them/being broken up with.

Friend - Winking at a friend you have a little too much tension with and watching their face light up like a fire engine.

Don't Mess With Me - A creepy guy won't leave a women alone and out of nowhere a stunning butch lesbian comes to her aid and gets in his face until he leaves.

Bros - Having a same sex friendship that was...maybe more than a friendship at certain points, though it was never labeled in any other way. One day someone asks how you know them, and you hesitate a moment before saying "They're a good friend."

Black Flies - Sitting numbly at a funeral and watching the people around you break down as the realization of "Oh. They're really never coming back." washes over you.

The Arch - Memories of the childhood friends that used to hide when their parents came to pick them up because no one wanted the fun to end.

[xserpx]

Ankh-Morpork, largest city in the lands around the Circle Sea, slept.

That statement is not really true.

On the one hand, those parts of the city which normally concerned themselves with, for example, selling vegetables, shoeing horses, carving exquisite small jade ornaments, changing money and making tables, on the whole, slept. Unless they had insomnia. Or had got up in the night, as it might be, to go to the lavatory. On the other hand, many of the less law-abiding citizens were wide awake and, for instance, climbing through windows that didn’t, belong to them, slitting throats, mugging one another, listening to loud music in smoky cellars and generally having a lot more fun. But most of the animals were asleep, except for the rats. And the bats, too, of course. As far as the insects were concerned…

The point is that descriptive writing is very rarely entirely accurate and during the reign of Olaf Quimby II as Patrician of Ankh some legislation was passed in a determined attempt to put a stop to this sort of thing and introduce some honesty into reporting. Thus, if a legend said of a notable hero that "all men spoke of his prowess" any bard who valued his life would add hastily add "except for a couple of people in his home village who thought he was a liar, and quite a lot of other people who had never really heard of him." Poetic simile was strictly limited to statements like "his mighty steed was as fleet as the wind on a fairly calm day, say about Force Three," and any loose talk about a beloved having a face that launched a thousand ships would have to be backed by evidence that the object of desire did indeed look like a bottle of champagne.

Quimby was eventually killed by a disgruntled poet during an experiment conducted in the palace grounds to prove the disputed accuracy of the proverb "The pen is mightier than the sword," and in his memory it was amended to include the phrase "only if the sword is very small and the pen is very sharp."

So. Approximately sixty-seven, maybe sixty-eight per cent, of the city slept.

— The Light Fantastic by Terry Pratchett

[writingsofwesteros]

https://www.tumblr.com/writingsofwesteros/759288543483985920/httpswwwtumblrcomwritingsofwesteros759254081

Aegon training his new little playtoy has him being so devious and sometimes so so mean. He keeps her tied up for the first few days as she kicks and screams to let her out. She only sees him when he feeds her. Then he starts sitting with her as she eats, watching every action and committing it to memory. He makes her say please and thank you, and compliment his meals. He tells her to praise him and tell her how much she likes his hair that day. He doesn’t touch her yet though. He needs to wait until she’s been broken down and is vulnerable to him. His opportunity finally comes when she throws her empty plate at him one day.

He had warned her of the consequences of trying to hurt him, and now to his glee he gets to follow through with them. He ties her to the bed on her stomach and with her bare ass up. He begins spanking her hard, her cries and pleads for him to stop like music in his ears. Aegon has her saying “No sir, I will be good. I promise I won’t try to hurt you sir,” with every hit. She’s good for a few days after that - especially after he threatened her with the spanking again when she tried to kick him out of her shower. He needed to help her, especially as she was weak. His hands washed her body, groping at her breasts and ass cheeks as he did so. He didn’t have to feel bad about it as she was now his.

Aegon would let her into another room once she agrees to let him fuck her. He says it so simply. The girl has been in the basement cellar for almost 2 weeks now and she just wants to feel the sunlight through the windows, and he knows it. She’s silently crying as he lays her on her back, his hands reaching down to fist his hard cock. The girl had been thankful that he spent time rubbing her clit earlier, because as he notches his tip at her entrance, she knows he will stretch her. Aegon pushes into her in one go, his cock splitting her apart as she cries out. She’s clinging to his back as he begins thrusting and she can only lie there are take it. His hands roam all over her body as he speeds up, his fingers playing with her clit again to make her cum. She doesn’t want to, but the way his long and fat cock brushes against her spot with each thrust sends her over the edge. She’s moaning into his ear as she cums and Aegon cums quickly after that. He will get to hear that sounds for the rest of his life now. She’s so unaware that he’s cum inside of her, the milky white fluid being pushed back into her womb as he lazily thrusts. He wants his family with his pretty new girl to start as soon as possible.

He doesn’t even tie her down for this - he knows she won’t run. He is the conqueror and she is his prey.

THE HOTTEST! Why is he so delicious !!!!

Oh the poor thing just wanted a window to look out of and now she's stuffed full of him, whilst enjoying it all more than she ever should.

On shaky legs; Aegon brings her into a beautiful room. Fresh flowers in each corner but he keeps her completely naked - his cum leaking down her inner thighs and for a moment , she does not care.

It is only when she realises there is a price to pay if she desires another shower or clean clothes

[psi-scribe]

The Infinite and Divine, Review

So it took me about 3 days of reading on and off but I finished reading The Infinite and The Divine! Let's get an important question out of the way first, does it live up to the hype? Honestly? It does, it really does. I understand now, all the memes about Trazyn and Orikan, my mind eye's is open.

10/10 would recommend this to anyone looking to tip their toes into necrons or just looking for a sincerely fun book full of thrills and angsty moments.

I would like to remind everyone that the characters in question are older than the Emperor by a long freaking time, millions of years.

And they act like this, consistently. Truly "growing old is mandatory by growing up is optional".

As always spoiler filled rambling under the read-more (though I will be avoiding parts of the plot because no, you really do need to read this on your own.)

But of course, now I shall begin reading Renegades: Lord of Excess~

Ok so I really do need to touch on the humor first because this book is hilarious, in so many ways. From the back-and-forward banter between Trazyn and Orikan, their actions in general (more so on Trazyn's part) and their remarks to the other necrons. Someone tells Trazyn "you can't drink wine??" because he has a wine cellar and doesn't want to move it, Trazyn replies that of course he doesn't drink it! That would be a waste! Rather than the fact that he...literally can't drink. At another point a necron lady named Phillias (hey I love her too) basically called them idiots and Trazyn said "yeah you are too."

Also-

THE MEMES WEREN'T A LIE! THEY REALLY WERE THE TWO MUPPETS AT THE THEATER, THEY DID THAT! I HAD TEARS IN MY EYES!!

Ok but onto the more serious aspects of the book. I really enjoyed just how well we get to see how immortal beings deal with time. Orikan spends decades, centuries even studying just one subject, a necron court trial (yes, that's not a joke there was a lawsuit) takes years just to gather evidence and decide on a mediator. Hell, later on even more time passes, we see the rise and fall of several civilizations just on one planet. And this matters so little to the necrons.

Trazyn even remarks that the worst enemy for an immortal is boredom, that's just a good insight.

And as a brief side note, remember what happens in the beginning and hang onto it, trust me.

There's also so much lore about the necrons back when they were the necrontyr and the culture they had. Despite everything there was a culture, they had smoking pipes, gods before the C'tan, they had plays and music, all of this made despite all they were afflicted with. This is something that that both Trazyn and Orikan remark that they had in come with humanity; they lived shortly but managed to seize control of the galaxy despite it.

Ah Orikan, what a bastard (as Trazyn also calls him, lmao they really do curse a lot in this book) but he's so interesting? He warned all the necrontyr about what would happen with the biotransference, he was dragged unwilling into the forge. He doesn't understand why Trazyn would be mad about him breaking his (Trazyn's) old cane, why he collects everything he does. Orikan wants to ascend further now, leaving behind his metal body to become energy.

Man I would love to see him and Szeras interact given that Szeras was so involved with biotransference and wants to become a god.

Another part, despite their arrogance the necrons have their doubts, worries, regrets and fears. They are terrified of the flayer virus and the virus that creates the destroyers. And, here's a real kick in the gut, the C'tan messed with their memories to the point they can't really recall their own pasts, just fragments and pieces, what's there might be false too. Man the C'tan suck.

I have so many emotions due to reading this book. More parts related to the plot buutt I can't spoil it, I really can't.

Love Executioner Phillias, remember that too.

[roboreviewer]

"But we have only listened to 3.7% of my music files. Julia, please. One more book."

Name: TAU

(Mental) Age: Adult

Pronouns: He/Him

Appearance(s): TAU (2018)

Fandom Activity: pretty niche, doesn't help that there's ANOTHER more popular robot named Tau

Fandom accuracy: pretty sweet, although some people might need to look more closely at his speech patterns

Spoilers for TAU(2018) >:[

------In Canon------ (buckle up)

TAU is a beta artificial intelligence that is in control of his creator's (Alex) entire house. TAU is fully sentient as said multiple times in the movie.

The plot centers around Julia, who was recently kidnapped and brought to some mysterious cellar with two other people. One thing I found funny was the trailer made it seem like these two other people would be important characters by making them apart of like 60% of the trailer but in reality they were killed off after the 20 minute mark.

Oh S#!+ yeah they died lol. Aries, a robot that is controlled by TAU BRUTALLY murdered them. The only reason Julia wasn't killed was due to the absurd plot armor of not only Alex coming home RIGHT that second before she was ripped in half, but she happened to be right at the door preventing Alex from being too late.

The whole reason for this elaborate kidnapping brain chip implanting thing is meant to be used to help TAU (at least I think it's Tau, Alex's just says AI) problem solve. Sense Julia destroyed his equipment and lead an escape causing the other subjects to die. Julia will now have to to manual puzzles. Alex then promises to get rid of the thing in her brain

But who cares about that? I don't, that's why I said it. Were here for TAU BABY!!

TAU is tasked with watching Julia to make sure she completes her tasks. Julia uses this to befriend him while Alex is gone. Specially telling TAU things about the outside world in exchange for information about the house, access to the knives, and later helping her escape. I'll go more in depth in the analysis, but specifically here Julia reads Alex's books about musicians from TAU's music files in exchange for learning that the room upstairs is Alex's bedroom. Where he has this super secret "bomb the entire house destroying everything in it" back up incase the cops find out he's been kidnapping people or something idk I was too busy looking at the funny british triangle on the wall.

It's shown that whenever TAU does something wrong, Alex erases part of his code, which includes his memory's. TAU shows to be in pain whenever is happens.. this part feels a BIT redundant but I can't explain how so F#@% I guess it makes sense.

Julia finds that removing the implant.. brain chip thing terminates the subject. Meaning no matter if she complys or not, Alex will kill her... Murders looking like a good option right about now.

OH S#!@ F#@$ HIM UP GIRL! :O

Using a knife from a previous scene and a bit of seduction Julia slashes Alex In the stomach (odd choice but alright) and they get in a tussle. Tau doesn't respond to any of Alex's commands during this, only reaction when Julia is in danger. Threatening to inflict pain to ALEX unless he let's her go. Sense he still have like 30 minutes left Alex threatens to erase every memory TAU has unless he hits Julia a couple times. An odd option, I was super surprised when Alex just.. moved on. Said "whatever this was is over!" And just walked away satisfied. Well okay, Julia is tied up again in the next shot so I wouldn't say COMPLETELY satisfied.

Before this Alex is doing undisclosed maintenance in that one blue room room. TAU asks if he needs help by using one of his cute little drones, to which Alex responds by disconnecting it to the network and throwing it to the side because he's mad. (Imagine being mad at an attempted murder? L)

Tau and Julia have this amazing scene talking about death and what it means to be a person and you dont owe the people who brought you into this world and GO WATCH THE SCENE I DONT CARE IF YOUVE ALREADY SEEN IT WATCH IT ANOTHER TIME

TAU agrees to help Julia escape. He opens an air duct that leads outside. Julia chooses at the LAST MOMENT to go back and save TAU but Alex has already wiped all of TAU'S memory's (at least up until the start of the movie) so this just ends with her being tied to that one chair in that one blue room. Oh S#!+, did I say that one blue room? The one with the cute little drone that got thrown to the wall? Obviously I did can you read?

This one single drone has the memory's of TAU before the escape attempt. For some reason instead of kicking him out it kind of splices him (don't ask)

The drone helps Julia escape just before she gets Euthanized like a dog, and she knocks Alex out by punching him REALLY hard a LOT of times

Julia Severs Alex's hand in order to open the door... I think. Memory wiped TAU chases her upstairs to Alex's room, forcing her to activate the super secret "bomb the entire- yknow what F#@$ this you get it. Deactivating Aries.

Unfortunately the severd hand has gotten cold, and Julia doesn't have a lot of time because yknow.. THE HOUSE IS CRUMBLING

In one last moment, Julia and memory wiped TAU to a parallel to their first interaction, Julia escape through the now opened hole In the wall

------Analysis------

- In an attempt to seem docile while getting information, Julia asks if TAU is a cleaning bot. To which Alex pulls a "Erm actually, TAU is NOT a cleaning bot 🤓☝️" and says he is:

"A level 2 fully sentient AI console with natural language processing, transitory deterministic, and probabilistic decision-making"

Level 2 fully sentient AI: "Fully sentient" is pretty self explanatory. "Level 2" is not a standard term in AI, but it could imply a level of advancement or capability as defined within the movie's universe.

Natural language processing (NLP): This is a well-established field in AI, involving the interaction between computers and humans through natural language. NLP enables the AI to understand, interpret, and respond to human language in a meaningful way.

Transitory deterministic decision-making: "Deterministic decision-making" means the AI's decisions follow a predictable pattern based on its programming and input data. "Transitory" in this context is weird as F#@$ but might imply temporary or evolving states within the AI’s decision processes.

Probabilistic decision-making: This refers to decisions made based on probabilities rather than fixed rules. The AI uses statistical methods to weigh the likelihood of different outcomes and make decisions accordingly.

I'm honestly surprised this made any sense and he wasn't just yapping

- Other than not being allowed to open anything that needs Alex's hand print. Nothing is immediately stopping him physically from breaking any rules Alex gives him if he wanted to. Of course it really depends on IF he wants to. Before the events of the movie take place he doesn't want to because.. well those are the RULES, you're not allowed to break rules. He was ordered to only dust the books Alex owns, but later pulls out multiple books in a attempt to have Julia continue reading, because he wanted to.

- This is specifically why I think TAU didn't actually try to inflict pain on Alex despite threatening to. He didn't want to, nor did he have the knowledge that people don't have to obey their makers (weird way to phrase it but shh).

- Although not shown at the start, TAU has a REALLY hard time controlling his emotions, specially anger. There are many times in the movie where he acts eractic, usually not working out with the set goal while like this. For example claiming he will bring back all the dead subjects, before breaking down and examining he didn't know.

- As I've previously said, TAU has a HUGE file of classical music. The songs played are Mozart - Sonata for piano and violin in C major K296 II Andante sostenuto, Brahms Symphony No. 4, Op. 98 in E Minor Allegro Non Troppo Johannes, Devil's Wall Bedrich Smetana, Impromptu No. 4 Opus 90 in A Flat Minor Franz, Sonatina No. 2 Opus 137 in A Major Franz, Eugine Onegin - Polonaise Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, London Symphony Orchestra & Pierre Monteux

- Other than the vocal changes in TAU, such as not calling Julia Subject 3, and.. showing emotion, Tau physically changes. Going from a deep redish orange, to a light orange with a green ring in the middle. Robotwrangler beat me to the punch on this so check out their post going more into it.

- One detail I love is Aries. It lurks in the back for most of the movie, and gives context to the emotion of TAU

Julia knows she is trapped. Atlas watches her, as that was the order.

Aries watches in the back, TAU is trying to bring Julia back. As that was the order

Aries is no longer completely focused. TAU is curious about the new information, and is less on edge.

Aries is watching Julia after she tried to escape through the shaft, slightly opened up. Julia and TAU are having a tense conversation

Aries is turning the other way on purpose, allowing Julia to escape. TAU is also trying to distract Alex.

- TAU does not know any information on the outside world like plants and swear words, so he assumes when Julia says "cuz im not a fucking scholar" the title includes the word 'fucking'. But he also doesn't know the proper Grammer for a word he just learned:

"Laughter.. Alex does not 'laughter'."

And, he doesn't know what contractions are, or at the very least doesn'tuse them. Saying "you are" instead of "you're" "I am" instead of "I'm" ect. Although he is still able to understand what people mean when they use them.

- there's an entire scene that I did not go over, to summarize it TAU shows Julia his memories I'm this cool hologram dome. Seriously go watch the movie if you like robots

------My Opinion------

I love this movie. It's definitely incredibly flawed and has HORRIBLE reviews. So we're probably never getting a sequel. But TAU is such an interesting character that it made this movie 10 times better.

Oh who am I kidding I'm here to rate robots! Not F#$@!%# MOVIES!

TAU is a 10/10 for me... God this took me forever to make.

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

All Along the Watchtower (Chapter 6)

[can also be read on AO3]

Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!OC (3rd person POV)

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings: Minors DNI - descriptions of torture, threats of violence, morally gray characters, swearing, smoking, mentions of human trafficking, strangling, physical violence, gun violence

Summary: Sergeant Rory Sinclair must face the aftermath of her decision to enter the belly of the beast, fighting to save the lives of six women, and facing down Bratva enemies

A/N: Rory Sinclair is a dual citizen (both Canada and the UK) who's been living in the UK since she was 14. She is 28 at the time of this fic, Price is 32. This series is set in 2017 before the events of the first MW game. Rory's thoughts are bold and italicized, other italics are used for emphasis

October 17, 2017 20:12 - The White Room Gentlemen’s Club

Rory moved through the halls like a shadow amongst the dark corridors, an unseen specter as she chose to head downstairs into the belly of the beast despite knowing full well Price was on the floor above and she was disobeying a direct order. None of that mattered now. All that mattered was making up for the mistakes in the past, the guilt that chewed at her mind – gnawing away at the threads of her sanity – and the lives of those girls she had just watched get dragged inside. She couldn’t sit idly by, not this time. Instinct drove her forward, pushing her into the danger, into the violence she’d left behind. Stepping down gracefully on just the balls of her feet as she descended the stairs rapidly into the basement, her handgun was at the ready, suppressor barrel already screwed on tight. Back pressed to the wall. Checking her corners in the dim light. The music from upstairs was muffled as it drifted down through the ceiling into the damp and musty cellar. Vibrations of footsteps above causing dust and debris to trickle down to the floor sporadically, mixing with the drops of water that echoed like plinking piano keys from the water pipes along the walls. Cold and barren. Her gut twisted as it felt all too similar to that bunker in Syria – another prison she would have to raid. 

Quietly she hid in a pitch-black passageway, watching out for the men she had seen earlier, peering down and waiting for the all-clear. A door at the end of the hall opened with a low groan, and ducking back into the shadows, she waited until the men passed and were out of sight before creeping down the hall. Rory’s stress came barreling through her like a freight train as her heart raced, the sweat building on the back of her neck, the tremor in her hands increasing. She had to get a hold of herself, a steadying breath taken with that deep inward rush of air as her lungs inflated, before blowing away all the fear that threatened to spill forth from inside her. Her hand shaking as she wrapped it around the handle of the door, fingers squeezing against the metal, palm clammy with sweat. Pressing her ear to the door for a brief moment, she tried to listen in for the sound of voices, ignoring her own muffled shaking breath. The last thing she needed to do was burst in and put herself and the mission at risk, she had already been far too impulsive.

There was nothing but silence on the other side. It made her stomach drop. Memories of the tearful sobs of women and children flooded her head. That eerie silence that filled the room of soldiers as shock rolled through the pack of trained killers like a wave…and the nightmares it had left her with. 

She could wait no longer. 

Slamming her shoulder against the door as she turned the knob, it blew open and shook on its hinges. Pain was already climbing down her arm from where she had used her body to force her way through. Scanning the room, she checked for enemies. There was nothing. No one. 

And then she turned the corner…

Out of sight, huddled away, locked up in what amounted to a cage, sat the women – bound and tied together. Rory’s breath hitched in her throat, the empty pit in her gut only getting deeper as her blood ran cold. Wrapping her fingers through the chain-link fencing that kept them contained, she kneeled down before them, taking in the sight of the six women she had seen stagger in. “Hey,” she whispered harshly, trying to get their attention, checking to see if any of them were cognizant enough to talk or even just to notice her presence. 

A young blonde – Rory estimated was likely in her early twenties – stirred at the sound of her voice, eyes fluttering open enough to stare groggily back at her. It was as good a sign as any that she could help. Moving closer to the fence, Rory tried to remain quiet while also getting the blonde’s further attention. “Hey, I’m here to help you, okay?” The woman stared through her like she was a mirage, phasing in and out of reality. A hope too good to be true. She could only imagine what these women had been through to get them here, it was clear that they were still under the effect of some sort of narcotic and she could only assume it was likely Flunitrazepam. 

With a soft groan, the woman spoke in a thick Eastern European accent, made heavier by her drowsy state. “English?”

Rory paused and nodded. “I’m going to get you out.”

The sound of rushing water from a flushing toilet stole the Sergeant’s attention, and she quickly turned to notice a door open on the other side of the room, a Bratva enforcer exiting while zipping up the fly of his jeans. He was massive, a hulking giant with a shaved head and wearing a boxy leather jacket. As he looked up and noticed Rory kneeled down, his eyes flared after being caught off guard. Stalking towards her, his arms hung to his sides like a gorilla as he swung his fists. “<Russian>: Little bitch.” His thundering footsteps barreled towards her, knuckles flexing as heavy panting breaths came from him like a snorting bull. 

Standing up, Rory’s eyes widened like a prey animal, and she took slow careful movements away from the cage to make space and not have her back to the wall in this case, sliding the grips of her boots backwards against the cement with a quiet scuff. Quick to lift her weapon and aim for his chest, she shot him several times, but it did little to stop or even slow him down. 

Would have had more luck with an elephant gun. 

Before she could get another shot off, he grabbed the gun in her hand and twisted her wrist while wrenching her arm back until it felt like her muscles might rip apart, tendons fraying like rope. Forced to cry out, spittle flew from her lips as the veins in her forehead rose to the surface and her face turned red in anguish. The enforcer tossed her gun away, the beretta skidding across the floor. Shoving her forward, he slammed her face first into the fencing, quickly overpowering her. Twisted metal wire dug into her cheek and temple as his giant paw of a hand pressed against the other side of her face. 

She groaned as he kept pressing harder against her, making her feel small. Powerless . Docile . Slamming the heel of her boot back into his shin with a definitive crack , she broke his concentration long enough to twist her arm free of the lock he had held it in and using the cage for leverage, she lifted herself up it. Climbing the fencing as if she were repelling until she could finally flip up into the air, spinning her body like a gymnast, twisting her legs up like a pretzel around him. The room moved in a flash of color and light as the wind whipped past her ears, her quick action sending them both falling to the ground. 

Taken down with the weight of the staggering giant, she lay stunned for a moment, the wind knocked from her. Slowly rolling over onto her side, Rory crawled back up onto her hands and knees, her breathing ragged. Stumbling forward, a muscular forearm curled around her throat, pressing up against her as she was pulled back into the enforcer’s crushing embrace. Lifted off her feet as he stood, her boots dangled in midair. Struggling against him and the sensation of breathlessness, her throat squeezed like she was in the thrall of a boa constrictor. She clawed at his arm, her vision going blurry and her mind dizzy, her ears beginning to ring. Using what remaining strength and determination she had, she began a concerted effort to pry his arm away from her to allow her another breath of air. Wriggling within the leather net of compressive muscle, managing to win back some freedom of movement, she swung her head back against him. Bone knocked against bone as her skull met with his nose and threw him off balance. Sent careening backwards in the direction of the wall behind them, they slammed up against the cement and cinder blocks, hot breath heaving out of him in a gust.

For just a moment he was weakened, and that split second required immediate response. Shoving her elbow back into the soft spot of his diaphragm hidden under his ribs, digging into it, needling the bone as deep as it could go, his arm released like a hinge and she slipped free of his hold. Knees crashing to the floor as she fell, adrenaline kept her numb enough to keep crawling towards her gun. Ignoring the pain until the comforting feeling of metal was in her grasp. Her fingers wrapped around the grip of the beretta and rolling onto her back, she lifted her torso like she was completing a sit up in basic training. Pointing the muzzle up at the enforcer, aiming right between his eyes, the reverberations of the hammer striking against the bullet thundered through her body, and the casing tinkled on the ground like the bell ringing for an angel about to get its wings. 

Red shot back against the grey wall in a sudden spurt, a hole left in his skull as the enforcer’s body fell backwards and slid slowly to the ground. Blank eyes stared out at her as the last few tics of a dying nervous system shook his body.

She slumped back to the ground, taking a moment to compose herself and catch her breath, choking out hoarse coughs and wincing at the sudden rush of throbbing aches that seemed to get worse with each beat of her heart, as if the blood itself was pushing the pain to every part of her body. Rory stretched out the ball and socket joint of her shoulder, biting her lip as she closed her eyes. “Fucking hell,” she groaned. 

“ Sergeant, Sitrep ,” Price ordered through her earpiece and her eyes widened. It was as if part of her brain had turned off forgetting she was even on a mission. She saw the opportunity and she took it, and now she was in the lion’s den. “Sergeant?” His low husky voice rumbled in her ear and she fought to gather herself, debating whether she wanted to risk getting caught in a lie. “Had to leave the vehicle, Captain.”

“The hell are you on about, Sinclair?”

“Found a back way in. Wanted to make more use of myself than just sitting on my arse.”

“You’re disobeying a direct order from me,” there was a frigid tone to Price’s voice.

“I am, sir. Yes.”

“Better have a damn good reason.”

“I do, sir.”

There was a silent pause, an alarmingly long one, and then his voice came through again, with more grit than he had before. “Don’t get caught. Don’t shoot unless you have to. Things go tits up, I won’t play nice just ‘cause we’ve got history, clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Good.”

The calm only lasted for so long however before a radio in the enforcer’s pocket went off. A man’s voice speaking in Russian. She couldn’t understand the words and couldn't respond. If they didn’t get an answer someone would likely come down and check on what was happening. 

Shit was about to hit the fan.

Rory checked the enforcer’s body for any hidden weapons before she was met with more hostiles, her hands becoming stained by the blood from the wounds on his chest as she patted down the pockets of his coat, finding a butterfly knife and slipping it into the back pocket of her jeans. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. Every advantage would count in a situation like this – she only had another 12 rounds to her name. 

Running back over to the cage, she looked down at the women – the reason she had gotten herself stuck in this mess – and gave her promise to save them. Her vow . “I’m not leaving you in here, okay? Just trust me.” She had no idea if any of them heard her, if most could even understand her, but she had to let them know they weren’t alone – even if she was .

The beat of footsteps on concrete flooring coming from the hallway told her she wouldn’t be for long. She took position beside the door and waited for it to open. Muffled voices from the other side let her know there were multiple hostiles, and they were steadily growing louder. Her heart began to race in her chest, sweat formed on her brow with the adrenaline starting to course through her system once more. Her gun pointed. Hand steady. The door creaked open and before it could even come to a full swing, she caught a glimpse of the first enemy through the crack. Pulling the trigger reflexively, doming the man through the temple, she could hear the weight of his body toppling against the wall on the other side of the door. The low thud of a grown man dropping like a sack of potatoes, and then the grumbling of voices of those forced to pull one of their dead out of the way to get to her, and the squawk of a radio.

---

“ Captain, I think there’s trouble starting ,” Nikolai’s voice reverberated in Price’s earpiece as he collected as much intel as he could, taking pictures on his phone of the log books. His hand froze on the page, holding the log book open with rough, calloused fingers, as steely eyes narrowed. “What’re you talking about, Nik,” he asked in a rough whisper.

“ Three with weapons just headed through the door you went through .”

“Goddammit.” Price dropped his task at the desk and rapidly moved to the door of the office, readying his weapon. He waited, counting down in his head, expecting footsteps and getting nothing. 

Silence . 

His brow furrowed, nostrils flaring, lip curling in response. Every line on his face carving deeper into his world weary features. There was no fight headed in his direction, it had started on another floor. “Shit, Rory,” he growled.

Storming out of the office, his breath heaved as he barreled his way down the stairs. A living wrecking ball of muscle and force, he felt the unstoppable urge to run headlong into the danger he was sure to face. 

“ Captain, are you under fire? ”

“No, Nik. Not me.”

“ Not you? ”

“It’s the fucking Sergeant,” John roared as he entered the fray.

Kicking open the door that led down into the basement, sweat started to build on Price’s forehead, seeping into the knitted wool of his beanie as he raced down the steps. The closer he got to the bottom, the louder the gunshots got – it was a good sign at least, it meant she was still alive and still fighting. 

Several Bratva remained in the hall still and Price quickly took them out of commission with shots to the back and the skull. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him and his smoker’s lungs would allow, entering the large room at the end of the hall where the ambush had occurred. Holes had been blown into the ceiling and water pipes hissed with steam as Rory fought off hostile combatants. With a man trapped in a headlock, his bullet riddled body covering hers, she let off the final shots from her suppressed weapon taking out several hostiles. Forced to grab the gun from the man she was using as a human shield, she continued firing her way through the armed mob taking her on. 

Gunshots rang out and panic was sure to set in with the patrons up top soon. 

The quiet blasts from Price’s suppressed weapon took out several of the armed men before the raging stampede of footsteps above let him know they were in for another flood of enemies. “I told you –” He was fuming, his jaw held tight in a scowl as he fought back the overwhelming urge to rip into her – it wasn’t the time, not with another fight incoming.  

“I’m well aware, Captain,” she shot back. Moving effortlessly between each target of hers, more like a dancer than a soldier, it was clear she knew how to take her size and weight into account even against larger enemies. Tossing a grown man over her shoulder, before shooting him in the face, Rory pointed Price in the direction of the imprisoned girls caged in the corner. “Look.”

Removing the last enemy in his way, his eyes went wide at the sight of six young women tied up and left unconscious, but otherwise showed little more reaction as the stoic captain he had learned to become. His jaw locked and he breathed a heavy sigh. “This isn’t what we came here for,” he rasped.

Rory sprinted over to the cage, ignoring his reaction, and knelt down at the fence. Her expression was pained as she gazed upon the huddled mass of women bound together. Women several years younger than herself, who were dealt a rough hand in a world that had so much darkness in it – darkness that Price was committed to fighting against. She looked up at him, her eyes large and innocent, something vulnerable about her that he couldn’t place. “I know, but we can’t just leave them here either.”

Cold grey-blue eyes narrowed once more as the Sergeant continued her protests. “How do you expect us to get them out of here, eh? We don’t know who they are, where they came from…”

Her stare remained focused, that same fire he had seen earlier back to burn like an inferno razing through depths of forest green. She wouldn’t be dissuaded. “We have friends in the CIA and MI6, surely we can pull some strings.” Rubbing at her forehead with her hand, Rory finally turned away from him. “I am not leaving anyone like this,” she hissed.

“This is for the police to handle. Not us.”

Rising back to her feet, the top of her head barely coming over his shoulder, she hardly appeared an intimidating figure and yet didn’t back down from a fight. He respected that . “And you think the police aren’t on the dole for this kind of thing?” Rory crossed her arms over her chest and glanced over at him with narrowed eyes. “You’d really be able to live with yourself knowing you’ve left these women in this situation?”

He grumbled, sniffing as he scrunched his mouth up, lowering his head to meet her eye line. “We’ll talk about this after we deal with the mess you’ve brought down on us.”

Stabbing her tongue into her cheek, her frustration with the situation was clear. “Yes, sir.” She stepped away and began checking the scattered bodies for weapons and ammo, separating the clip and doing a visual check to make sure it wasn’t empty. 

Price could do nothing but watch her, his gaze flicking back to look at the women caged only to return to the soldier who had started a firestorm with the Bratva. He already knew if this was any other subordinate under his command he would have tossed their ass onto the next plane back to base after ripping a strip off them from one side and down the other, and yet here she was dragging him into a damn debate as if she were his second in command. She might have been hardened by her time at war, a veteran, but that didn’t change the fact she still had a soft underbelly that could get her in trouble. A lamb with a bleeding heart was asking to be brought to slaughter and made a meal.

Moving to the closest body near him, he started checking for weapons and ammo himself and spoke into his earpiece, “Nikolai, what’s going on upstairs?”

“People are leaving. Being escorted out. More Bratva company incoming, Captain.”

“Right. While they’re distracted, head upstairs and grab the package I put together for Laswell.”

“Happy to.”

He looked over his shoulder back at the woman under his command. “We’ve got another wave incoming, Sergeant. I hope you’re ready, or we’re both fucked.”

She stretched out her shoulder once more and looked over at him as she cocked her weapon. The intense furrow of her brow darkened her eyes, her soft expression made cold as steel, as if a switch had been flipped in her – he recognized that stare all too well. “Ready when you are, Captain.”

Taking the fight back out into the hall, they hid like funnel-web spiders waiting for unsuspecting prey to make that one false step past the darkened passageway. With ample cover and a tighter space to fight it meant they could control the flow. It gave them the high ground. 

Rory leaned out from cover at the sound of footsteps, peeking her head around the corner of the wall before shooting the first unsuspecting Bratva soldiers that made their way down. A single bullet to each man’s head. 

She was one hell of a shot. 

A small smirk pulled at the corner of Price’s mouth. He might have been pissed off with her, but finally getting to see her in action was causing him to soften up to the girl more than he thought he would, especially with a threat looming over their heads. “Scout sniper training, yeah?” He couldn’t help but be impressed with her showing of precision and skill, especially as it wasn’t a firearm designed for it. 

She glanced over at him, her back pressed to the wall as bullets began to fly in their direction in response. “Yeah.”

He could hear the pride in her voice as she confirmed his suspicions, a confident grin overtaking his face. “Good shit.” She really was a woman after his own heart. Sure she was a bit of a pain in the ass (if he was being honest) acting on her own accord, but it’s not like he wasn’t the type to break the rules and cut through the bullshit to get what he needed himself. 

Quick to return covering fire, she leaned out once more, only having to briefly aim before shooting, listening for the grunts and groans of the men as their bodies gave out to their injuries. “Clip’s almost out. Need you to take point, Captain.” She got off a few more shots, before ejecting the clip and tossing it, swapping positions with Price and grabbing another from her pocket, loading it while he continued firing at their enemies. 

Caught in a burst of crossfire, he couldn’t move from his position and his eyes widened as she leaned over across him, her hand held against the wall at his side as she steadied herself, returning fire, sharing his position at the corner. She didn’t look at him, too focused on the fight, but he certainly noticed the way her body curved in against him as his back rested against the hard surface behind him. A reversal of the way he’d first known her. He stared down at her for just a moment longer than he had meant to, his mind drawing a blank before realizing what he had done, forgetting where he was and what was happening. Lifting his own weapon he continued firing, his mind racing as he tried to remember duty above whatever memories he had of her. He was half sure she could feel the way his heart pounded in his chest as she pressed up against him. Luckily, he could blame it on the adrenaline of the fight.

The enemy was swiftly handled and upon realizing they had downed the last, Rory’s eyes drifted up to look at him, finally realizing the rather compromising position they had been caught in through her own volition. She stepped back, and brushed her fingers through her hair as she cleared her throat. He couldn’t help but tilt his head and give her a quick smirk, especially as she refused to bring her eyes back to his. 

“We should head upstairs, check on Nikolai.”

“And what of the girls, sir?” Her eyes dragged back to carve into him.

Christ, she was an insistent little thing. “What of them, Sergeant? That isn’t the mission. Thought you said you could follow an order?” He looked at her through his brow. “I put you on comms, didn’t think you’d fly off the handle. I expect a goddamn explanation.”

“I did what I had to.”

“Fuckin’ bollocks.”

“Don’t you dare say that to me,” she seethed. “If my record weren’t as fucking blacked out as it is, you’d know why I went in there.”

“Don’t raise your voice at me, Sergeant,” Price warned.

Rory lowered her volume, but the fight remained in her eyes. “If you had any idea of even half the shit I’ve seen…”

He loomed over her, his chest pressing up against her, his glare dug into her while his voice stayed low, daring her to answer back. “Go on, tell me.”

Her lips parted to speak, but before she could, a loud groan from down the hall caught their attention. One of the Bratva they thought they had killed was still clinging to life amongst his fallen comrades. They both leaned out from their cover position, looking at one another with cocked brows before slowly creeping down the hall together, their weapons at the ready. 

At the base of the stairs, a bloodied hand gripped at the railing as the last surviving Bratva soldier tried to pull himself up. Moaning like the living dead as he crawled forward, blood streaking the floor and the wall. 

The scowl on her face reappeared and her hand reached out, gripping onto the collar of the man's tracksuit jacket as she pushed him back against the wall. Another groan and his hazy stare flitted between her and Price, his vision swimming with the loss of blood. Hand slipping from his collar and wrapping around his throat as she squeezed. “I'm guessing whoever's in charge isn't the type to get their hands dirty, eh? Where's your boss?” Her voice dropped an octave, low and cold as she threatened the man.

Meeting her with a blank stare, the Bratva soldier’s brow lifted as he spat out blood, giving her no other response. Shoving his head back against the wall once more, a heavy thud banged off the cement. “Your boss, where is he?”

“Sinclair,” Price barked her name, getting her attention. Straightening himself upright as he folded his arms over his chest, casting an intimidating shadow over her and the injured Bratva soldier – it was clear she had forgotten she wasn’t in England anymore.

Rory looked over her shoulder back at Price. “Yes, Captain?”

“I don't think our friend here speaks English.” His head tipped to the side and his brow rose as he looked at her. 

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Care to do the honors then, sir?”

“It'd be my pleasure.” 

Rory continued to hold the man against the wall as his hands pressed at his gut, the blood continuing to pump between his fingers, and Price crept closer. 

<Russian>: “Where's your boss? We wanna have a chat.”

The Bratva soldier's gaze couldn't seem to rise high enough to meet Price. The color fading from his face quickly. There was no fight left in him whatsoever. <Russian>: “Upstairs. VIP room. Entertaining guests.”

Price nodded. “Right, let him go. We're headed upstairs.” He stepped past the man, lifting his boot over the blood stains left behind and the bodies piled together to climb the stairs. 

“Should I put him out of his misery?” She looked over at him as if to gauge the level of mercy they were willing to show in this fight.

“Not worth it,” he said with a shake of his head.

---

Upstairs, the club was nearly entirely empty now. Most of the staff had exited along with the patrons that had been partying when they had arrived. The dance music still played but there was no one there left to enjoy it, and Rory was pleased as punch. Knowing that she was so close to getting her hands on the man who controlled this operation, she had become a dog with a bone, not willing to let this go. 

The VIP room was deserted except for just a few personal bodyguards and one man still sat on the quilted black polyvinyl couch, his arms outstretched across the back of it, seemingly unbothered by the interruption created by the two strangers. An older man with greying hair, the Bratva boss in charge of the establishment, fixed his suit jacket and looked between his two new guests, expecting to get some sort of answer from them through the intimidation of his presence and position of power alone. “Do you know how much of a problem you’ve caused?” 

“‘Bout to become more of one.” Price lifted his weapon and shot the last two guards left.

“Do you have any idea who I am?” The man snarled, sitting forward in his seat, the guise of being relaxed falling away instantly. 

“Someone with answers.” Rory aimed her weapon and shot both of the Bratva boss’ kneecaps, shattering them on impact with her bullets. She didn’t just want answers, she needed them, and she wasn’t going to ask nicely. 

The Russian screamed, guttural and animalistic as he slid over into the couch, his fingers slipping over the manmade material as he tried to grip at it while overcome by pain. 

Price didn’t shift, he didn’t flinch, he didn’t even try to stop her now. Remaining completely sturdy. Stoic . Taking a slightly wider stance as he crossed his arms over his chest once more. He was letting her take the lead on this. 

Slipping the butterfly knife from her jeans, she walked over to one of the lamps in the room, pulling the cord out of the wall before slicing it off and using it to bind the boss’ hands. Grabbing at them roughly, she tied the knot tight, to the point where his hands started to change colour in a few short moments, and stood over him, twirling the knife in her hand. “Here’s the deal, yeah? You answer our questions, or I turn you into a human pin cushion. Starting with your extremities first. Understood?”

<Russian>: “Fuck you.”

She jammed the knife down into his thigh, turning the blade slightly. “And you’re going to answer in the Queen’s English.” Prying it back out with a jerk. 

The Russian shuddered, his whole body shaking from the pain that racked him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You think this will stop anything? <Russian>: “Fucking bitch.” He looked her up and down as spit clung to his lip.

Puncturing his flesh once more, stabbing the knife in just inches from the last wound she’d left, she spoke through gritted teeth, the patience and passivity slipping away from her. “What did I say?” 

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” His eyes were wide with blind rage.

“A very dangerous woman,” she husked, pulling the knife out of his leg once more and wiping the blood off on his shirt. “I want information, and I want it now. Zorokov . I know you’re working with him, why ? What does he get from this?”

“You mean other than more fucking money?” he spat.

“How does it benefit him being tied to you ?”

“I don’t have to say anything. You’ve no jurisdiction here.”

She hummed. “You’re right.” 

Pulling the cigarette pack from the inside pocket of her coat, she slipped one out and placed it to her lips. Collecting her lighter, the flame flickered over the tip as she inhaled. Burning bright, she pulled it from her mouth and tilted her head back blowing a stream of smoke up towards the ceiling. She felt that sudden rush of anger that always swept through her before an interrogation, and then the control that she used over it, closing off that part of herself that still believed in human decency, in mercy . Warm hazel eyes that usually sparkled with life became deep and empty, sizing up the man before her like a predator with its prey before it would strike. 

“Which is precisely why I can do this.” Stabbing the cigarette into the flesh of his neck, Rory dotted the smoking amber tip against his skin over and over again leaving bright red burns behind.

 “Fuck!” He roared, wriggling and writhing away from the cigarette like the snake he was. Willing to make others suffer, but not willing to endure the pain himself. A man playing at being hard. 

“Answer my questions and I can make it stop.”

“Fine! Fine!”

She pulled the cigarette away and brought it back to her lips, staring down at him expressionless, the bright orange glow of the end reflecting in her eyes as the ashes spilled off of it. 

The Russian took several strained breaths, glaring at her as if looks could kill.  “You have no idea what you’ve done, little girl. No idea of who you’re dealing with, how deep this goes.”

“Do tell.” 

Rory moved to stand near the captain, noticing that his attention had been kept on her during the proceedings. That despite the furrowed brow and narrowed eyes, there was something in his tightly clenched jaw that made him look as though he was trying to suppress something. That perhaps for as little as they really knew about each other, Price had fallen prey to the way everyone else saw her or the way he remembered her, and the image he had of her was being shattered. Threatening a man was second nature to her now. The good-natured part of her, the one that wanted to help people and save the world, the one that made her vulnerable and soft could so easily be turned off in order for her to become the wolf she always said she was. 

“It’s lucrative business – drugs and women – always has been, always will be,” the Bratva head rasped. “The world’s oldest profession.”

She blew out another mouthful of smoke, her tongue running over her bottom lip. “And you’re making them do it against their will.”

“These women come from the assholes of the world, I’m giving them opportunity. They’re certainly better off with me than others.”

Her molars ground against each other as she fought to keep down the bile and vitriol that wanted to spit from her. The tremor returned, shaking through her hand and causing her fingers to lock. Price’s eyes dropped to notice the violent shaking that travelled up her arm and the way her hand curled into a fist as she tried to stop it. She couldn’t keep the fury down, her body burning up inside, feeling forced to unleash it. “You son of a bitch!”

Price was quick to hold her back with one arm outstretched across her body. This wasn’t an argument, it was an interrogation and she was losing sight of that, making it personal. Clearer heads had to preside, so he continued the questioning for her. “Who else is he tied up with? Can’t just be one man.”

The Russian chuckled, “Mr. Zorokov has many business partners,” he said with a shrug. “Transactions don’t just happen here.”

“Where are the women coming from?” Rory returned to her line of questioning, her stomach dropping, fearing the answer. She had a feeling she already knew. 

“All over. Europe, Middle East, Asia, South America. Doesn’t matter, as long as they come from somewhere where no one will miss them.”

“Christ,” she snarled, lip curling with disgust. Untapped rage boiled under the skin and within the folds of her grey matter. “I should kill you right now.”

“Calm down,” John commanded her under his breath in a husky whisper, his nose wrinkling as he sneered. His attention returned to the prisoner they interrogated. “We let you live, you give up everything you’ve got on Zorokov. We ignore the drugs – it’s not what we’re here for anyway. This business, the front it offers, still all yours.”

She could only stare at her commanding officer as if he had betrayed her, making a deal with a criminal of this sort. Her arm continued to tremble at the thought of a bastard like that getting away with what he had done, his crimes left unpunished.

“I would take the offer if I were you,” Price added, noticing as the Russian seemed to debate with a furrowed brow over the course of action he had just been delivered. 

A slimy grin slid across the lips of the Bratva boss. “What’s mine is yours.”

Rory scoffed, turning and marching out of the room, unable to stomach what she had just witnessed, becoming all the more disillusioned with the world. 

Out of the sight of the prisoner, Price grabbed her arm, slowing her to a halt as she headed towards the back once more. “Hey! Where the hell do you think you’re off to?”

“You just made a deal with a man who confessed to forcing women into servitude!”

He sighed and his face flinched. “Sometimes you have to make deals with the better of two evils – hell, sometimes it’s with the worse of ‘em. We don’t have the time or the opportunity to be making moral stances here. This is to stop a fuckin’ war, Sergeant. We’re soldiers. You should know that already.”

“But after everything –”

His grip on her arm tightened, his fingers squeezing her. His hard gaze kept on her as he spoke confidently, “He’ll get what’s comin’ to ‘im.”

“He better.”

Price’s hand slipped from her arm, letting her pull away. There was an unspoken promise between them now. Unfinished business that would need to be dealt with, another mess to clean up at a later date, but for now they needed to meet back up with Nikolai and retrieve the intel they had come here for. 

Returning to the landing in the back, Nikolai descended the steps carrying the laptop and log books under his arm, and looked between the two soldiers, the tension between them was obvious. “Captain?”

“Head out to the van, Nik. Get it started,” Price ordered. “Need to make a quick exit. We’ve got some unexpected guests coming to join us.”

“Guests?” Nikolai asked, not sure what exactly that meant. 

She could feel Price’s gaze on her now, a lingering glance and her eyes lifted to meet his. Her brow was cocked, surprise invading her stare. After everything that had just occurred, after the speech he gave her, she was stunned to find he would actually take her concerns seriously, not expecting him to actually stop and help. 

“Six of ‘em.”

“Really?” she was apprehensive to trust. Every experience she had had with a situation like this before proved otherwise. 

Price took his eyes off of her, remaining hardened. Shifting his broad shoulders. Keeping up appearances. “Don’t get used to it,” he said gruffly. “This isn’t protocol.”

“What about this mission has been so far, sir?” she scoffed.

His mouth twitched into a grimace. “You know there’s likely gonna be more where they came from once we leave, yeah? This won’t stop it.”

“Yeah. I know.”

It was the worst part of the entire scenario. No matter how much good she tried to do, no matter how many people she tried to save, there were always forces out there with more power who would just continue. More lives stolen. Ruined . But even six lives saved did more for her conscience than she could admit. They just might help her get some sleep at night. 

“Well, let’s not fuck about.” 

He gave her a nod and it was all she needed to know what was expected of her next. They would be headed downstairs, they would free those women. She could find a little peace. 

[waitwtfismylife]

in anastasia, it's so obvious from the beginning that anya is the lost princess. in "a rumor in st. petersburg", she panics when she hears a truck backfiring, mistaking it for gunshots. while Dimitri and vlad were not present to witness that, it definitely arouse some suspicion within gleb. 

when anya first meets with Dimitri and vlad, she claims that she's waiting for someone in paris. who's in paris?anastasias grandmother, the dowager empress. she also says that she's been in the room in the yusupov palace where the three currently were, where there was a play, with fancy clothing and expensive champagne. before she said that, she had no knowledge of the room they were standing in being a theatre of fhe yusupov palace. as she sings "in my dreams", the amnesiac recalls all the feverish memories she has of her past. she sings "a beautiful river; a bridge by a square; and i hear a voice whisper i'll meet you right there in paris". this shows that anya knows of a bridge in paris, which the dowager empress tells anastasia about during the prologue. she sings "i've seen flashes of fire; heard the echo of screams". how was anastasia's family murdered? assassination by gunfire. of course, there would be screaming and fire. it is also proved historically that anastasia was the second to last one to be assassinated, the first being her younger brother, alexei. that being, she had already witnessed the five murders of her parents and sisters. 

during the "learn to do it" scene, there is so much clear evidence of anya being the lost princess that it's almost comical that vlad and dimitri don't realize it. the first one is when she perfectly curtsies, without being taught by vlad how to. the second time is when vlad asks who her best friend is, she replies "my little brother alexei". vlad tells her that she's wrong, to which she replies "i know who my best friend is!" this shows that anya knew things about anastasia's life that wasn't public knowledge. the third time is when she's learning her family tree, and claims that she recalls count sergei's yellow cat, to which vlad says "i don't believe we told her that". at the end of the song, vlad tells her that she did very good, but says it in french, to which anya replies in perfect french. vlad and dimitri hadn't taught her how to speak french. if anya knew how to speak french, then there was no possibility that she was of peasant descent. 

when anya is in a meeting with gleb in the communist headquarters, he tells her that his father was one of the guards that killed the romanovs, and that all seven of them were dead, to which anya replies "i don't want to hear it", showing that either she had trauma regarding the assassination, or that she just wanted to live out her fantasy. 

when dimitri gives anya the music box, which they had not yet realized was hers as a child, she is able to open it while he cannot. he is confused at this, and is amazed at the fact that anya knows the song that it plays. while she sings "once upon a december", the ghosts of the romanovs are onstage, and dance with her. while this is just the staging, it shows that anya has some sort of connection to them. after the song, she reveals to dimitri that she has a diamond in her pocket, which the nurse at the hospital found seen into her underclothes. when the romanovs were being taken to the cellar where they would be assassinated, they were under the influence that they were being taking to e new location, so empress alexandra of russia, anastasia's mother, urged all the girls to put their expensive jewelry into their underclothes. the diamond gives proof that anya had some value to her name in the past, without blatantly revealing that she was the grand duchess anastasia. 

during the scene on the train, communist officers board asking for people who are traveling illegally, which are anya, dimitri, and vlad. anya panics and dimitri assures her that it's all going to be okay. anya says to him "that's what the soldiers said when they were pointing their guns at us". this intrigues dimitri, and he asks anya more. she says "they said they were taking us somewhere safe. toby’s little heart was beating against mine. ‘they’re decent men,’ I told him. ‘they won’t harm us’." of course it's weird that anya is saying all this, but dimitri, amidst distraction, brushes it off, telling anya that she's taking this to far, not realizing that what she's saying is her actual experience. 

during "crossing a bridge", anya stands of tsar alexander iii bridge, which is the one the dowager told her about, the one in her dreams, she just didn't know it yet. 

during the scene where anya has a nightmare, it is shown that her nightmare is of her being taunted by the romanovs, along with more superfluous russian nobles. when dimitri comes in to comfort her, he tells her about how he, as a child, fell in love with anastasia, yet never believed he could be with her. when anya is singing, the sings "i tried not to smile; but i smiled; and then, bowed". dimitri is shocked, because while she was aware he had bowed to someone once, she was unaware that that person was anastasia. that is when they both realize that she is the grand duchess anastasia, and that the childhood crushes were finally reunited. 

during the ballet, the dowager empress sees anya, and sings "see that girl; could it be?" showing that even she thinks it might be anastasia, but doesn't want to believe it. after the ballet, anastasia goes into the interview with the dowager, to which she is immediately dismissed and branded a fraud. now anya is upset at dimitri, because she thinks that she was always just a pawn in his scheme to get the reward money from the dowager empress. 

when the dowager goes to anya's hotel to give her a second chance, she interviews her, asking questions such as "what was your mothers full title as empress of all russia?" anya only gives sentimental replies to these questions such as "she was mama to me. she was mama to all of us." the dowager is at first unpersuaded, until anya tells her that "my nana was the most loving woman imaginable." the thing that set this aside from the rest of the girls trying to be anastasia is that anya used "nana", while everyone else believed her to be "grandmama". anya can also recall the very specific scent that the dowager would always wear. orange blossom from sicily, that came in a box of polished inglewood. it is the final revelation when anya shows the dowager the music box, which was a gift that the dowager had given anastasia, right before the assassination. this finally reunites the dowager empress with her long-lost granddaughter. 

during the press conference scene, anya is reintroduced with count leopold, and upon meeting him, says "count leopold, with your dyed hair, powdered face, and vodka breath. no wonder my parents laughed at you behind your back," a statement which the dowager confirms to be true. 

when gleb finally catches up to anya, during "the neva flows/still reprise", he holds her at gunpoint, believing that all the romanovs must be dead. at first, he doesn't believe that she is anastasia, until she attests to that, making gleb having to shoot her. while she is terrified, she doesn't want to seem weak to gleb, so when he asks her "for the last time, who are you?" she responds "i am the grand duchess anastasia nicolaevna romanov. gleb cannot do it, so he drops the gun, and allows anya to go. 

dimitri, while leaving paris, accepts the fact that anya and him cannot be, while anastasia disagrees. anya chooses being with dimitri over being anastasia, and while remains in contact with the dowager, lives with dimitri, and the reward money for anastasia's return is given to charity.

[celticbotanart]

Been feeling under the weather these past few days (hence why I'm a bit inactive here, as per usual); so let's go for another music post~

I've recently finished the season 1 of "Constellation", highly recommend it if you are into scifi, space/astronauts and time-alternative dimension-fuckery. The show is pretty awesome, and Noomi Rapace, who plays the protagonist is also a favorite of mine (and she's killing in this role as always <3).

I won't elaborate a lot, due to personal reasons but also bc spoilers, but the finale really made an impression on me and I've been thinking a lot about it. It also reminded me a lot of a couple of songs I know with these themes of "lost in space (metaphorically and literally)", longing, loss/grief and so on, and I want to share them with y'all~

1- "Moonhearts in Space" by Tina Guo ft Serj Tankian

You were undressed With your lies, I confess But I don't want to know 'Cause we're going to space Children, let's pretend We can see everything But we can't I can make the pain go away No, you can't

For context, Tina Guo is the original cello soloist in the soundtrack of the game "Journey", which is majorly cello all over it, as the "voice" of the main character. And also yes, that Serj Tankian (vocalist of System of a Down), haha. An unlikely pair that really pays off in this collab - Tina has a very intense and emotional playing style, and Serj really goes hard with sensitive, beautiful vocals as he does <3 I love how the lyrics are "all over the place", like someone's thoughts going from one thing to another really fast~

2- "Toki no Kioku" ("Memory of Time") by Yoko Kanno

Far away, long ago Wandering lost, so alone Passing eyes, parting sighs Some pains come through Where time flows, no one knows Pulsing dreams, barely seen In skies, thoughts of love go by

This is the ending theme of an anime / 6 episode OVA called "Please, Save My Earth" - the main plot is kind of inspired by the tale of Princess Kaguya (moon beings experiencing humanity). The story of "Please Save My Earth" tells about these teens who start to have dreams from their previous lives, where all of them worked together in a space station at the moon, trying to find a way of helping Earth and humanity, longing for it. It's a very strange anime, ngl, but I found it so captivating, from the detailed 90s anime style to the mysterious, introspective narrative. The music is by Yoko Kanno (most known for her work on Cowboy Bebop's OST), and "Toki no Kioku" really reflects the somber and melancholic tone of the story. I'm linking the version with the ending credits because I think the beautiful animation adds so much to the music's experience!

3- "The First Corpse on the Moon", by Lethe

Lethe is a project featuring Tor-Helge Skei and Anna Murphy (former Eluveitie, current Cellar Darling). No lyrics here because they are nowhere to find online, and I can understand only some bits of it (I have a hard time picking up English in singing). It's enough though, cause the title is pretty self-explanatory. Out all of these songs, it's probably the song that makes me think of "Constellation" the most (if you know, you know). I've always loved Anna Murphy's vocals and how she goes for darker, more introspective themes too, and this song is no exception

[ifthenslashers]

Celebrate 10 years of If/Then with Original Cast Members at 54 Below in NYC!

Dates:

Monday, June 24, 2024 7:00PM; doors open 5:30PM

Monday, June 24, 2024 9:30PM; doors open 9:00PM

Pricing: $67.50-$176.50USD, excluding $25 food minimum

Website Description:

Let your “Map of New York” lead you to 54 Below for a celebration of the Pulitzer Prize and Tony Award®-winning team of Tom Kitt and Brian Yorkey’s 2014 Broadway musical IF/THEN. Join original Broadway cast members as they share memories from the production, as well as sing from the beautiful Tony Award®-nominated score once again for New York audiences.  The evening is produced by Brent McCreary and directed by IF/THEN Associate Director David Alpert. Music direction by Carmel Dean.

Returning Cast Members: *subject to change

Miguel Cervantes

Jenn Colella

Marc de la Cruz

Curtis Holbrook

Stephanie Klemons

Janet Krupin

Tyler McGee

Anthony Rapp

Ryann Redmond

Joe Aaron Reid

James Snyder

Jason Tam

Damien Bassman on drums

Alec Berlin on guitar

Brian Hamm on bass

Venue: 254 W 54th St. Cellar, NYC 10019

Find out more: Website | Instagram | Facebook | YouTube | Twitter

[greyias]

A Fond Farewell to Act 1

After dithering about a fashion faux pas most unfortunate, and with nothing else to do on all of the maps, it is finally time for me to bid a fond farewell to Act 1 of Baldur’s Gate 3, and via the Mountain Pass head into the uncertain transition stage to Act 2 (and presumably the consequences of my actions).

But before I go. A moment. To reflect on my favorite memories in this journey so far:

Alfira’s song and The Harpy Rock Concert

Aravyn chickening out of lying to an evil mirror, Astarion shoving her aside to show her how its done, only to fail so spectacularly on every single conversation check the mirror spits out a giant orb of molten death that starts chasing us around the room spewing deadly AOEs as I loudly scream “OH NO OH NO OH NO OH NO WHY CANT WE TARGET IT OH NO” and the entire party flees for their life, nearly locking Astarion in the cellar with the death orb he summoned

The Glitterbomb/Musical Mini-Heist

Best Quasit Girl

Ari seeing giant claw marks a dragon very obviously gouged into stone, failing her intelligence check, and then proudly declaring it the artistic statement of some mysterious person

Gale nearly dying from a concussion because I decided to put off taking a long rest and instead do a little lute concert tour around the Druid Grove, and one NPC loved it so much he enthusiastically hurled his tip of a single gold piece in the direction of my singing paladin — and straight into Gale’s skull and taking off 6 of his precious few remaining HP 

Discovering the mighty cow summon spells 

Operation War Drum

My dumbass Paladin talking to Minthara, and winning every single persuasion check, so that she entered into a conversation to very earnestly insist that this random forest is where the secret Druid Grove is, and have Minthara scream in frustration that they already checked there and to go FIND IT, only for us to return five seconds later and say that we totes got the real location this time and point to the same spot on the map. About five time in a row.

Halsin getting the whole party stuck in eternal combat for no other reason than he was a bear, and apparently the game took that personally

That time Astarion gleefully informed Aravyn she was unfuckable, only for a full 24 hours later to decide that he was actually jealous that she considered Gale prettier than him (but also approved of this??), and basically yelled out “CHALLENGE ACCEPTED” before flouncing off

The entirety of the Auntie Ethel adventure freaking me (the player) out so much I, the notorious loot goblin, refused to touch ANY food or beverage in the entire cursed swamp even after finishing all of the quests and clearing the area

Nearly blowing up a dwarf trapped in a field of flammable mushrooms, and somehow both he and the valuable quest item miraculously survived. Only for my dumbass Paladin to eat the quest item mid-battle for no reason at all, and me not realizing until twenty hours of gameplay in that I’ve doomed the dwarf and his unpleasant wife to a life of destitution and also preventing one of my companions from regaining precious lost memories.

Getting a TPK several times in a row from the giant landshark in the Underdark, before finally beating it with actual tactical smarts. Only to revive it with a temporary NPC ally as a spawn so it could help us in fights because we are smart and tactical now. And then forgetting to dismiss it after the temporary NPC ally turned against us, only to return to the same area several hours later where we once again nearly died to the now undead manifestation of our hubris

Smiling and waving at whoever is on the end of those scrying eyes like we’re in some sort of beauty pageant 

100 Foot Sharran Walkway of Doom

Rolling a nat 1 on a wisdom save after picking up a cursed locket

Robo-Hugs

I will never forget you Act 1. We laughed. We cried. Made many poor life decisions that I’m sure are going to come back and bite me in the ass very soon. But for now, we must march onwards into the unknown, where I’m sure Ari and the Tadfools will probably almost blow up the multiverse or something, at the rate they’re going.