#men get just as fucked in his storytelling

[yazzydream]

I love that Mei Mei is such an off-putting freak. Even if I don't personally like her, I love that she exists. I love that Gege Akutami is not afraid to fuck up, scar up, and kill off his female characters. I love that they're as strange and eccentric and varied as anyone could be.

He doesn't treat them delicately, or with kid gloves. He treats them with the exact same consideration he does his male characters. As vehicles for the story first-- because that's what they are.

#there's a smaller ratio of women so when bad things happen to them it feels lopsided #but im exasperated by these complaints about gege's supposed misogyny #i think it's weirder y'all take exception to his fantastic storytelling #he's not being UNFAIR #men get just as fucked in his storytelling #it's a fucked story!! #anyway needed to get this off my chest #after seeing one too many complaints #lemme complain back #jjk spoilers #my jjk #jujutsu kaisen #the main character is missing a pinky and half his ear #megumi's fate is as up in the air as nobara #i hope they're both dead #i was actually for sure that they were but fandom keeps making me second guess myself #when they die it's not BECAUSE they're women characters #it's because of what's happening in the world #the first character we think might be a gross pervy roshi or jiraiya type is todo #but it turns out his 'what's your type' question is something he picked up from YUKI #that's hilarious #he's a simp for an idol but so what? #the REAL misogynists and sexists are treated with genuine hatred #the narrative is very clear that they're disgusting and not a Good Thing #idk fandom is exhausting sometimes #sometimes i'll look at one thing and fandom will go off in a wildly different direction #and i'm over here like #did we consume the same media????? #let's try to be more bloggy shall we #jjk meta

[ambiguousgrass]

So today I reread the wilbur van. Here's some my favorite bits :thumbsup: (more under the cut)

i want to dissect these literature class style

#grass yells into the void #id in alt #block men #next bits just me rambling #not only feel free to ignore but actually please. ignure im just rhjbking out loud #also this isn't necessarily a criticism but something i noticed A Lot . like everytime tommy or tubbo was present #the story Did Not take into account their actual characters #Tommy was one hundred percent cwilburs perception of him. which was really cool!! #but tubbo. oh my god tubbo. #i think it's moslty the lack of consideration for his character #and a greater focus on his role in the story #my boy he has been reduced to a storytelling tool. it was him or the horse #he just had more value to wilbur as a character #it was also interesting because you could see where the facade he puts up is actually believed by the other characters #it was just a bit frustrating #like the ''i dont want to die'' or when he said to ranboo. out loud. wirh wilbur in hearing distance. that he thought wilbur fucks everyt uo #HE WOULD NOT DO THAT!!!! #he has such a complex relationship with death. i wish that was explored more but i get why it wasnt!!! #anywayss my chest hurts these characters have done this to ne argghhh argghh waaahhh etc eyc

[skyahri]

How They Found Out P2 |Naruto Men X Reader| HC

Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Shikamaru Nara, Kakashi Hatake

Summary: The aftermath of your relationship becoming public. Part two to How They Found Out

Warnings: Mentions of sex, marriage, kids. Pretty low key tbh.

- - - - -

Sasuke Uchiha

What an absolute nightmare.

Once you heard the front door shut, Sasuke basically collapsed on top of you.

He groaned. His night had been ruined, and on top of it, Naruto was sure to cause drama for the coming days.

"It's okay, Sasuke. They were sure to find out anyway."

"Our relationship going public and Naruto catching us having sex are two very different issues, and it's a bit concerning that you think I'm worried about the latter."

You kick him off of you with a laugh and suggest a shower. There was no way your escapades could continue on after all the fuss.

The next morning, you basically had to drag Sasuke out of the house.

He'd been moaning and groaning and grumbling since last night, so much so that he started to sound like Shikamaru.

Who knew Sasuke could complain so much.

Once you were out the door and the second your friend's eyes caught you, they pounced.

All at once, they hounded you about what Naruto may or may not have seen (Naruto has a habit of being a bad storyteller, so who knows what actually went down)

Sasuke refused to answer any questions until the chaos had settled down. They did eventually, albeit reluctantly.

"It's true."

That just sent them all reeling again, begging for details.

You two already discussed what you'd keep secret and what you'd share, so the meeting went pretty smoothly once everyone agreed to keep their composure.

Until fucking Sakura started asking questions about your sex life.

After that, you zipped your mouth and refused to answer anything further.

They'd just have to live on not knowing anything.

Shikamaru Nara

After news got out, Ino decided it was her place to convince Shikamaru to, in her words, "be a man and ask her out already!"

He ignored her, convinced she was full of it and brushed her off.

But her words lingered in his head.

Your friends were all beginning to settle down; Naruto and Hinata had just gotten married. Talk of kids had started to circulate in the group.

Were you wanting marriage and children?

The slow buzzing quickly turned into an almost constant fog in his mind. He'd never been so distracted before.

What a drag.

Within the week, he was knocking on your door.

"I need to ask you about something."

Weird. You could read him pretty well at this point, but this energy he was putting off was new.

"What's up, Shika?"

"Do you want to get married?"

Your eyes widened and jaw dropped. When you tried to answer, you found yourself at a loss of words.

"I mean, damnit, I- do you want to get married eventually? Or have kids at some point?"

You stared at him like he had two heads.

"Are you feeling alright? Why don't you come inside?"

He didn't fight you. He walked in and sat at your table in silence while you made him some tea.

You'd pried it out of him that Ino was behind this sudden change, and assured him that things would be okay.

"Look, I never brought it up because I know you're not a feelings guy, buy yeah, I guess I would like to have a family. I thought that's what you wanted, too?"

He got that irritated look on his face. The one he always gets when people ask him to work.

"It is, but,"

"But don't worry about it. I work on your time, so whenever you're ready."

You gave him a kiss on the cheek.

He let out a sigh of relief, glad to have fallen into such a situation with someone who understands him so well.

"Not too long, though. It's been almost two years, Shika."

On second thought, this was a total drag.

Kakashi Hatake

The next morning, you two made sure to bump into his students.

They seemed rather pleased with themselves, that they had been the ones to finally catch Kakashi lacking.

It only took a single look for Sasuke to realize it was all fake. They'd been bested by their sensei once again.

That quick glance he got from Kakashi told him not to say anything to the others, which he hadn't planned on anyway.

"Kakashi sensei, why didn't you ever tell us you were seeing someone?"

He set a hand on Sakuras head and ruffled her hair.

"I try not to share my personal matters with children. That's what friends are for."

Enter Gai, who happened to hear.

"You didn't tell us either, Kakashi."

He just shrugged, sending Gai into a fit.

News traveled fast in the village. What else is to be expected when romance rumors come up about the Hokage?

Kakashi was actually very calm about the whole thing.

Despite dreading this day for a long time, he was actually very content with the outcome.

There had been so much going on when you initially got together. Wars and death and PTSD and all that.

But now was a time of peace. A perfect time to actually start living, and this was just the beginning.

#anime #naruto #naruto headcanons #naruto shippuden #naruto x reader #anime headcanons #headcannons #kakashi fluff #kakashi hatake #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi hatake x you #sasuke uchiha x you #sasuke uchiha fluff #sasuke uchiha x reader #sasuke x reader #sasuke uchiha #shikamaru x you #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru #shikamaru nara #shikamaru nara x reader #shikamaru nara x you

[lyricailove]

Does it ever hit you that because of Frank and Monica's emotional detachment, all of the Gallagher's seek out affection from romantic partners? But like to an almost obsessive degree.

Fiona's is obvious. She's hypersexual and falls in love easily. She will downplay her issues with Frank as something she's grown used to, but it's clear that it still affects her. She also does the same when it comes to Monica but I feel like her hostility towards other women comes from how she doesn't trust Monica, doesn't really trust herself, and sees those insecurities on other women. Ex: Her treatment of Mandy and distrust of her around Lip.

Lip is a classic case of a man dealing with his mommy issues by making it every woman's problem. He's hostile towards his romantic partners when they want a real commitment from him and he talks to women with so much disrespect that it's a wonder someone hasn't stomped his ass out yet. He's especially harsh towards his own sisters even though they've been the one's who have been there for him. He may hate Frank but he's noticeably giving and extremely forgiving towards men, even those he's only known for a short while. Almost like the story about the turtle was just as much about him hoping that he could fix Frank as it was about Frank crushing his hopes of a real father figure.

Ian being groomed is in no way his fault and is the fault of the creeps who pursued him. But I can't ignore the fact that Frank's abuse and neglect opened him up the further abuse he suffered at the hands of Kash and Ned. It's no coincidence that both Kash and Ned shower Ian with gifts and compliments about how impressive, smart, and mature he is.

Debbie 1. deals with comphet in the first few seasons, and 2. Feels ignored by her family so she tries to create her own family. Debbie is visibly the one most affected by Frank's issues and even when she for all intents and purposes gives up on him, it still affects her. Frank's hurtful words about her only finding love with someone "just as fucked up as she is" pushes her to put consider a dangerous situation with Heidi. She's also someone who struggles with control issues because she needs to help other people. She's a problem solver by nature. It's just that the two problems she wishes she could solve more than anything are out of her hands (Frank and Monica). She can't fix Frank's addiction, his selfishness, or his abusive tendencies. She can't fix Monica's wanderlust, her avoidance, or her aversion to long-term commitment.

Carl is so good at masking his emotions. It's easy to miss. But then you notice things like his attachment to Fiona, his absolute devotion to the girls he likes, and his need to protect. Carl is hypersexual, even though I've seen it rarely brought up in fandom, and longs for a long-term girlfriend. When he does get girlfriends he's all in from the beginning. When Carl loves someone he is all about them. He's so casual when it comes to talking about Frank and Monica, but that doesn't mean those feelings aren't there and they aren't affecting him.

Liam is still young so we don't get to see him in a relationship. He's the one Gallagher who's consistently treated like an actual kid. Probably the one who has the best chance at healthy emotional attachments. But then again, Fiona leaving most likely did a number on him and we weren't privy to what that looks like for him because the latter seasons forgot how to do long-term storytelling and emotional payoff. All we know is that he doesn't remember Monica, Frank being gone makes him an orphan and he's worried about where he's gonna live because Lip forgot that Liam was technically under Frank's care. We didn't get to see it, but I'd say Liam's first emotional crash is probably on the horizon.

#Mine #Shameless #Shameless US #Fiona Gallagher #Lip Gallagher #Ian Gallagher #Debbie Gallagher #Carl Gallagher #Liam Gallagher #Shameless meta #I lost the plot halfway through this post but I think the overall point shines through #Frank and Monica did a number on their kids #Someone get the siblings into therapy please

[sissylittlefeather]

Viva Las Vegas

A mafia!Elvis AU Story

A/N: This was a request that threw me for a loop. I didn't know anything about the mafia. But after watching Casino and talking to my husband, I think I did this one okay and I had an absolute blast writing it! Hopefully it's exactly what it's supposed to be and you all enjoy it!

Warnings: SO MUCH SMUT AND VIOLENCE 18+ NO MINORS, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (both receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, swallowing, ejaculation, creampie, ALSO GUN VIOLENCE

Word count: ~6.2k (it takes a lot of storytelling)

In 1973 after the Aloha Special, Elvis decided he had had enough of the colonel and his life in Vegas. He didn't want to leave Vegas per se, but he wanted to try something different.

Thats when he bought a casino and entered the world you'd been trying to get out of for a decade: the world of corrupt casino bosses and the mafia back east.

You hate your father. He owns one of the casinos in Vegas, which means he's in neck deep with the mafia. All of the casinos are tied up with the mob somewhere. Some are from New York, some in Chicago, and a few in other cities around the Midwest.

The casino Elvis buys is New York mafia and it doesn't take him long to get wrapped in their web. Despite his rock star status, he loves it and is eager to do odd jobs for the bosses here and there and earn their trust. Before too long, he's one of their most trusted lieutenants. And by 75, he's his own kind of boss in Las Vegas. The mafia game is new in Vegas, but Elvis is on the forefront, creating his own family of Memphis guys to help him enforce the dealings of his casino.

Your father owns a Chicago mafia casino. And although there's not really beef between the two in their individual cities, the battle over who reigns supreme in Vegas rages. Elvis dives headfirst into this feud and is quick to figure out who the enemy is: your father.

This is not a problem in the beginning. You've sworn up and down that you'll marry a nice man and get out of this bullshit. You're tired of people you know ending up buried in the desert. You'll never get involved with a mafia boss. It's just not in the cards for you.

And then 1975 rolls around and you attend an event put on by the gaming commission to thank the casino owners for their contribution to the city of Las Vegas. You wonder if they have any idea how dangerous it is to have all these men in one room together. Still, you're not there with any of them. You're there on the arm of a senator. He's sweet and naive, and a little bit dumb, but at least he doesn't kill people in his spare time. Your father is disappointed, but the work you're doing with the senator might pay off, so he doesn't try to stop you.

That's when you meet Elvis. You catch his eye across the room and hold his gaze for a few seconds. You know who he is, but you're not eager to know him any better than you already do, so you look away. Still, you feel eyes on you and you look back in his direction to find that he's still staring at you. You look away again to try to convey your disinterest, but when you look back a third time, he's left his date and is walking towards you.

"Oh fuck." You whisper under your breath and roll your eyes. You walk away from the senator toward the bar in an effort to dodge Elvis. But somehow he catches up to you.

"I'd offer to buy you a drink, but you already have one." When you turn to face him, he's taller than you expect.

"Also they're free."

"True. Can I offer you something in gold and diamonds instead?" He smirks and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes again.

"I only wear white gold."

"Noted. What's your name."

"I'm y/n. Y/f/n y/l/n."

"Y/l/n? Any relation to Marco y/l/n?"

"He's my father."

"Oh."

"Yeah, so I suggest you move along, soldier. I know who you work for."

"Now hold on, I'm not a soldier. I own my own outfit these days."

"Good for you. I'm still not interested." You go to walk away from him and he grabs your arm and pulls you close to him.

"Oh, I think you are, doll. You wouldn't be so keen on runnin' away if you weren't." Your proximity to him allows you to notice the scent of him. He's all cologne, cigarillos, and peppermint. It's an intoxicating blend and there's something about the way his eyes sparkle that draws you in.

You were a fan of him when you were younger and he was still starring in movies. He's 40 now and he's grown into his maturity in a way no one expected. He carries more weight than he has before, but somehow that makes him more attractive. Like he's a whole man now and he knows what a woman wants.

"Say I was interested. It's not like you'd be allowed anywhere near me. If you don't want to end up in a hole in the desert, I suggest you go back to your date."

"Your father doesn't scare me, honey. All I heard was that you're interested." In a move bold enough to shock you, he leans in and kisses your cheek.

"I can't believe you just did that."

"You're a beautiful girl. Might be worth a hole in the desert." No one has ever pursued you with such fervor. You hate to admit it, but it's turning you on quite a bit.

"Okay, I'm interested. What's your plan now?" He smiles and wraps his hand around your waist.

"Come with me, sugar."

He leads you through the party back to the door that goes into the kitchen.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

He takes you into the pantry where they store the dry goods. It's bigger than a closet, so there's space for both of you. As soon as the door closes, he kisses you, one hand on the back of your head and the other on your lower back, pulling your body in close to his. You kiss him back and melt into his embrace. You know you should stop him, but you don't. He pulls back and looks into your eyes.

"Just how interested are you?" His hand moves to your breast, where he squeezes gently and then slides down to your core, easily finding your clit through your dress.

"I'm interested, daddy. But you better make it worthwhile."

"Mmmm sugar, don't you worry about that. Daddy'll take good care of ya." He gets on his knees and pushes your dress up to your hips. Sliding your panties down your legs, he moves back up to your center, pressing his mouth to you. You gasp a little at the sensation. He slides two fingers inside you to pump in and out while he licks your clit. He makes circles over and around it with his tongue and you moan and put your fingers in his hair. He continues to lap at you as he fucks you with his hand. You feel your orgasm coming to slam into you and your walls tighten around his fingers.

"Let go, baby. Cum for daddy." As soon as he says it, your climax hits and the pleasure washes over you like waves crashing on a beach. He licks you through your orgasm and then backs away slowly. He stands back up and turns you to face away from him. Whispering in your ear, he unbuckles his belt and drops his pants just enough for his cock to bounce free.

"You want daddy to fuck you, sugar?

"Mmmhmmm yes please daddy." You whimper and moan as he lines himself up with your entrance from behind. Then, he holds your hips as he slides into you and picks up a steady rhythm of pounding you. He's balls deep inside you when someone opens the door. He slams it shut with his hand and hollers, "Occupied!"

You giggle a little and he laughs too. Through the whole episode, though, he doesn't stop fucking you. He holds your hips and slams into you over and over again until it feels like you just can't stand it anymore. You cum hard on his dick and he pulls out just in time and pumps his cock a few times to shoot his seed all over your ass.

"Fuck yes, sugar, fuck!"

When he's finished, he finds a napkin to clean you up and then pulls your panties back to where they belong. He slaps your ass before he pulls your dress back down. "Mmm. I want you to belong to me."

"I'm not sure that's possible. You know who my father is."

"I don't give a damn who your father is."

"Well, I don't want you dead. This was fun, but that's all it was."

"We'll see, sugar." He leans in and kisses you deeply one last time. Then, you both make your way out of the closet and back to your respective dates at the party.

But for the rest of the night, you catch him looking at you from across the room.

You've never hated your father more.

******

Three days later a box arrives at your suite. Your parents have the penthouse, but your living area is nothing to sneeze at. You've got three full bedrooms, a kitchen, two bathrooms, and a large space for entertaining complete with a bar. You're no stranger to luxury.

So when you open the box and even you are shocked, you know this is an impressive gift. You lift out a large, ornate jewelry box and open it carefully. The whole thing is packed to the brim with white gold and diamonds. Necklaces, earrings, bracelets, and rings you suspect to the tune of roughly a million dollars. There's a card inside as well, so you open the envelope and pull it out gently. A necklace falls into your lap when you go to read it. The card is blank except for a single line:

"This one makes you mine. -EP"

You hold it up to examine it. It's smaller than some of the others, but the whole thing is coated in little diamonds. The letters "TLC" surround a lightning bolt and hang on a white gold chain. You look back down at the box of jewelry on the table in front of you. If you accept this gift, you're opening the door to a dangerous situation for both of you. Is he worth it? There's a part of you screaming yes, but you also swore to never get involved with a mob boss. And now you're considering your father's biggest rival? No. You decide to call him and thank him, but graciously tell him no.

"Hello?" Of course he doesn't answer the phone. It's obviously one of his guys.

"I need to speak to Elvis please."

"I'm sure you do. You and every other broad in this town."

"Tell him it's Sugar and I just want to thank him for the gift." You can tell he sets down the receiver and you hear mumbling in the background. After a few more seconds, the phone is picked up again.

"Hi, Sugar. Sounds like you got my present?" His voice is warm and sensual and you're almost hypnotized by it. You shake your head a little to bring yourself back down to earth.

"I did. And it's very sweet, thank you. But-"

"No."

"No?"

"You're not sending it back. It's yours."

"Elvis, I can't keep this."

"You will. And you'll have dinner with me tonight."

"Elvis, no I-"

"I'll pick you up at 8."

"You can't come here."

"So meet me on the corner outside. Wear something pretty and don't forget your necklace. I'll see you at 8." There's a click and the line goes dead. You look at the receiver and slam it down on the dialer. He's impossible.

******

At 7:30, you sit on your bed staring at the dress you picked out. It's tight and short and covered with black rhinestones. Are you actually going to do this? You'd be lying if you said you didn't want to see him again, but there's so much at risk. Your hair and makeup are done and all you need to do is get dressed and put on your jewelry. You look at the clock again and bite the inside of your cheek.

"Fuck it."

You stand up and slide the dress on. It fits you like a glove and won't do much to keep him from liking you. Neither will the black strappy heels you pull on. You go to the jewelry box and put on a pair of large diamond earrings, a bracelet, and several rings. You stand there holding the TLC necklace and stare at yourself in the mirror. Going to dinner with him is one thing. Wearing the necklace that claims you as his own is totally different. But you're not sure what he might do if you show up without it. At 7:53, you throw the necklace around your neck, grab your purse, and head for the door. You stand on the corner for less than thirty seconds before a long black limousine pulls up and the window rolls down.

"You waitin' for someone?" Elvis gives you a mischievous smile.

"Maybe."

"Hi Sugar. Come on." A guy pops out of the car and opens the door for you to slide in next to Elvis. As you settle on the seat, Elvis reaches across and fondles the necklace where it sits on your chest.

"It looks good on ya." You feel your cheeks get warm.

"I wasn't sure I wanted to wear it."

"And yet, here you are. You're in love with me, Sugar."

"You seem pretty sure of yourself."

"Because I'm in love with you."

"You literally met me once."

"That's all it takes when your souls are aligned like ours are." He leans forward and captures your lips in a deep kiss. You begin to make out heavily. As your tongues move against each other, the passion overwhelms you and you crawl on top of him to straddle him. You continue to kiss and his hands run over your body hungrily. Eventually, he grabs your ass with both hands and pulls you in against him, his hardness pressing into you between your legs.

"How far is the restaurant?" You whisper breathily.

"Far enough." He lets you unbuckle his belt and get his pants open enough to pull his cock out. You hike your skirt up to reveal that you aren't wearing panties.

"Sugar, you're gonna kill me." He holds your hips, lining you up with him, and then drops you down on his dick. You roll your hips against him and fuck him deeply. He grunts and grabs your neck to pull you into a kiss. You both know that you don't have much time, so you move on him quickly. He lifts his hips a little and his cock rubs perfectly against your g-spot. Without warning, you cum hard on him and the intense pleasure runs through you like fire.

"Mmm." He grunts and you know he's getting close too, so you back up off of him and drop to your knees on the floor of the limo. You put your hands on his thighs and pull his cock deep into your throat. "Dear god, woman."

You bounce up and down on him for a few more seconds before his hips buck and he fills your throat with his warm release. You swallow it all down and then run your tongue around his uncut tip. When you pull back off of him and sit on his lap, he grabs your chin and kisses your lips gently.

"Sugar, you're mine and you know it."

"I am." He kisses you again.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

The car stops and you both make yourselves presentable before the door opens. You head into the restaurant together and never look back.

******

You spend the next few weeks together pretty much 24/7. Periodically, he disappears to take care of business, but for the most part you're either talking, sleeping, or fucking. You really hope that your parents don't notice that you haven't been home except to grab a suitcase since you left for dinner that night. This is the happiest you've ever been in your life and at the beginning of the fourth week Elvis walks into his suite after some business and asks you to come sit with him on the couch. You do as he asks, but you're starting to get a little worried because he seems really serious.

"What is it, baby?" You settle in close to him but he moves away from you to look into your face.

"Sugar, I've never felt like this about a woman. I truly believe our souls were meant to be together. I want you to marry me." He pulls a box from his pocket and opens it to reveal an enormous emerald-cut three-stone diamond ring of no less than 14 carats.

"Wow. Elvis, I- wow."

"What do ya say, Sugar?"

"Elvis, I want nothing more than to marry you. But I don't think I can. The only reason we've made it this long is because my father doesn't know."

He slams the box down on the coffee table and stands up, pacing.

"Damn it, Sugar, I told you I don't give a fuck about your father! Let him find out!" You stand up too and raise your voice to match his.

"Do you think I want him to kill you?!"

"You don't believe I can defend myself?! Is that what you think of me?!" He kicks over an end table, sending the things on it flying. "I'm a man, y/n! This is what I do!" He puts his foot on the coffee table and pulls the gun from his boot, dropping it on the table with a thud. He rips his jacket off and pulls the two guns out of his shoulder holster, tossing them on the table too. He pulls the guns from his waistband holsters and adds them to the pile.

You watch as he does all of this. You've seen your father do almost the same exact thing at the end of a long day. You feel the tears well up in your eyes and you want to scream. How did you end up here, so in love with a man who is in this world? If you marry him, you'll never escape. You'll get married in the mafia, raise your kids in the mafia, and watch your husband die in the mafia. It's all too much and the tears start pouring down your cheeks.

He realizes you're crying and puts his hands on his hips, trying to avoid softening, but he can't.

"Now, Sugar, what's all that about?"

"N-nothing." You sob and he walks over to you and wraps you in his arms. He strokes your hair and you cry on him.

"Come on, out with it." You burrow your face into his chest and yell.

"I don't want you to die!" He looks up at the ceiling and sighs deeply.

"Sugar, I don't have any plans on dyin' any time soon." You look up into his face and he uses his thumbs to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"You don't know that."

"No. I guess I don't. But I know this. I love you right now and I want to marry you right now. And if I die, then I die, but I'm alive now and I want you to be my wife while I am." He leans down to kiss you softly on the cheek. You push away from him and he sighs again deeply. "Sugar, please."

You turn and look at him. Then, you snatch the ring box off of the table. He's afraid you're going to throw it at him, but you don't. Instead, you open it and take the ring out. You jam it onto your ring finger and purse your lips.

"Okay. Yes."

"Yes?" A smile spreads across his face.

"Yes." You walk over to him and jump on him and he catches you, spinning you around. He kisses you deeply and then carries you into the bedroom. You both laugh as he takes your clothes off and you fall into each other again.

******

What you don't know is that your father has noticed your absence. He sent out some of his favorite soldiers to locate you and they did. They call him to let him know where you are.

"She's with Elvis?"

"Yeah, boss. Looks like she's been there a while."

"I guess we have some business to take care of. Bring her back here."

"Understood."

Your father hangs up the phone after hearing about your location. Then he turns and throws the phone at the wall.

******

You're lying naked in Elvis's arms when there's a loud knock on the front door. He immediately gets up and dresses quickly. One of the things he's learned is how to assess a threat and this feels like something bad.

"Stay here, Sugar." He goes in the living room and puts all his guns back where they belong on his person. There's another loud knock.

"We know she's in there! Open the fucking door!" He looks at you standing in the doorway in one of his shirts. He walks over to you and hands you one of his pistols. Then, he kisses your forehead and cups your cheek in his hand.

"Stay in here. This might get ugly."

"Those men are my cousins. Maybe I should just go with them."

"Is that what you want? They won't let you come back to me." Your eyes flick between his while you think. The decision you make right now will define your future. Do you stay with the man you love? Or do you go with your family and forfeit your chance at happiness with him but make sure he stays alive? You know which one he would want you to choose. The cold metal of your engagement ring becomes heavy on your finger. You can't live without him.

"Donny got in a fight when he was younger and doesn't see very well out of his left eye. Use that if you can. I love you." You kiss him deeply on the lips and then take the pistol in the room and shut the door. You find some pants and put on your shoes in case you have to make a run for it. Then you sit on the bed with the pistol in your hand and listen.

Elvis opens the door carefully. He's got a loaded gun in his hand behind his back. The two men saunter into the room.

"Where is she?"

"Who?"

"You know who. Marco sent us to get her."

"You can give her to us the easy way or we can take her. It's up to you."

The sound of your cousins' voices is not hard to hear. Donny is the big booming one. The higher-pitched whiny one is Nick. They're both a little older than you, but you try very hard not to remember them as kids.

"You're not taking her." Elvis looks toward the door. They must've already dispensed of the guards he keeps out there day and night.

"Hard way it is, then." You hear the sounds of a scuffle as Donny lunges toward Elvis. You open the door silently and peek into the room. Elvis fires a shot at Donny, but he's a moving target, so he misses. Donny wrestles the gun away from him and gets him on his knees with his hands behind his back. Nicky stands in front of him with a gun pointed in his face.

"Tell us where she is and we'll take her and go. We're not lookin' to start a war over this bitch. Her daddy just wants her back."

"Fuck you and her daddy."

As the conversation happens, you slip off your shoes and walk silently into the room with the pistol in your hand. It takes Donny a minute to register that you're there, so his warning comes too late.

"Look out Nick!"

When he turns to face you, you have the pistol cocked and pointed at his head.

"Oh, come on now, y/n. You're not gonna shoot me."

"You know I know how to." It's true. Your father had a gun in your hand as soon as you were old enough to hold it. Your marksmanship is solid.

"Just come home with us. You don't need this fucker."

"Don't talk about him like that." You shake your head and then Donny chimes in from across the room.

"Just grab her, Nick. We don't have time for this." Nick nods and makes like he's going to grab you. Without thinking, you pull the trigger. Again, your marksmanship is spot on.

Once you shoot Nick, Donny is so caught off guard that Elvis is able to slip away from him. He grabs his loaded gun from the floor where he dropped it earlier, turns, and shoots Donny in the head.

Your gun falls to the floor and you drop to your knees shaking. You've never shot a person before, much less a family member. Elvis rushes to you and catches you just before you pass out.

******

When you come to, you're in a car. You turn and see Elvis in the drivers seat.

"You alright, Sugar?"

"Yeah. Did I really shoot Nick?"

"You did."

"Fuck." You're overcome with nausea and you start to shake again. Elvis notices how pale you are and pulls the car over on the side of the deserted highway you're on. You stumble out of the car and vomit in the dirt. It doesn't take long for him to be by your side, holding your hair back and humming a soothing melody. When he can tell that you're finished, he scoops you up like a baby and carries you to the backseat of the car. He slides in next to you and holds you close to his chest. You're too shocked to even cry. That'll come later.

"Nicky was a real asshole. He shot my first boyfriend- buried him in the desert- because he took my virginity. Pretty sure my father just wanted him beat up, but Nicky was always taking things too far. He would've killed you too."

"I believe you, Sugar. You did what you had to do."

"I did. And I'm not sorry. I probably should be, but I'm not." He lifts your chin and looks into your eyes.

"Welcome to the mafia, Sugar." You nod slowly and lean back into his chest. You sit like this for another half hour, with him still stroking your hair and humming. Eventually, you sit up.

"Okay. I think I'm okay. Where are we going?"

"One of my guys owns a motel out here. It's safe. We'll stay there until I can figure out the next step. I have an idea, but I'll need to do some business to work it out."

"I trust you." He kisses your forehead and then you both get out and get back in the front of the car. Once you're settled, he grabs your hand and holds it in his lap. The future is cloudy for both of you, but at least you're together.

******

You're at the motel for three weeks in the desert. Overall, you're doing okay except for the nightmares. But Elvis is always there to take care of you, whether you're screaming, crying, or throwing punches. It doesn't take long for you to sink back into your routine of talking, sleeping, and fucking.

Elvis makes business calls and even goes to a couple of meetings in town. Every time he leaves, you're a basket case until he returns. You sit in the bed with a loaded pistol in your lap just waiting. But every time he comes back unscathed. It helps that his men are all over the motel and they accompany him any time he goes into Vegas. The only thing you argue about is who needs the most protection when you're apart. He wants you to have the bulk of the security and you argue that he's in much more danger in the city. He always wins, though, and you end up with a better protection detail than the president.

At the end of the three weeks, Elvis comes to you with an assignment.

"I need you to get dressed. We're going into Vegas."

"For what?! How should I dress?"

"Well, I've got a little business deal to solidify and then we're celebrating. So wear something nice. Maybe something white."

"White?"

"Yeah. Just in case." You have no idea what he could possibly be talking about, but you follow instructions and pick out the only white dress in your bag. It's a long-sleeved mini dress with a deep v-neck that shows off your cleavage nicely. You put it on with your white patent leather boots. When he sees you, he looks you up and down and whistles.

"Will this work?"

"Sugar, it's already working." He grabs you and pulls you to him, kissing your neck down to your breasts.

"Mmm you want to take it off of me?"

"Like you wouldn't believe. But we have somewhere to be soon. Later I'll rip it off with my teeth." He nibbles your breast a little and growls. Then he turns and grabs a briefcase, puts his jacket on over his guns, and walks you to the door.

You settle in the back of the limousine with him and giggle a little. He looks at you with an incredulous look.

"Sugar, what's got you tickled?"

"I was thinking about the first time we were in the limo together."

"And you didn't have any panties on?" He turns to look at you, his eyes darkened with lust.

"I'm not wearing any tonight either."

"Mmmm." He shakes his head and grunts. Then he runs his hand up your thigh to your center to verify what you've said. It's true. "Sugar, you sure know what daddy likes."

He gets on his knees in front of you on the floor of the limo and yanks you to the edge of the seat. He spreads your legs and pushes your dress up over your hips. Dragging his tongue up your thigh, he presses one finger into you.

"Mmmm yes daddy." You moan as he works his hand on you.

"You want daddy to eat this pussy?"

"Yes please." You answer breathlessly and put your fingers in his hair. He smiles at how eager you are and moves his mouth to your center. His tongue begins its familiar pattern over and around your clit. He's learned your body and knows exactly what you like. He knows how you squirm when he runs his tongue directly over you hard and how you moan when he pushes his tongue into your slit. He knows when to flatten his tongue and move his head side to side and when to tighten his tongue to a point and lick up either side. He does all of those things and more and it's only a little while before you cum hard in his mouth and he licks you through it, the electricity of your orgasm running through you to your fingertips and back again. He kisses your clit one last time, pulls your skirt down, and then sits up next to you on the seat, wiping his mouth with his hand. You're just about to crawl on top of him when the car pulls to a stop. He leans over and kisses you.

"I can wait, Sugar." He pats your knee and the door opens for you to get out. Your breath catches.

You're at your father's casino.

"Elvis! What are we doing here?! He will kill you!"

"No, he won't. I've arranged a business meeting through both of our lawyers. And his board of directors."

"How did you work that out?"

"It's a long story. Come on." In a gesture bold enough to make your heart jump, he pats your bottom to encourage you to walk. When you get inside, you head to a meeting room. Your father is seated at the head of the table with several men around him. They're in boring, relatively cheap suits, though, so you suspect they're truly businessmen and not mobsters. You notice your father's mouth pop open a little when he sees you and Elvis walk into the room, but he quickly rearranges his face. His jaw flexes, but that's the only indicator of his feelings. Elvis shakes his hand and smiles warmly and then takes the seat at the other end of the table. The meeting begins with the discussion of business. As it turns out, Elvis has opened a shell corporation and then used it to negotiate a purchase of your father's casino. Now you see why he's so angry. Without knowing it, your father has allowed his biggest rival to buy his prized casino. He made a pretty good chunk of change in the meantime, but now Elvis and his connections to the New York mob will run Vegas.

After the business is settled, Elvis dismisses the business men so that it's just you, him, and your father in the room.

Your father glares at him.

"I should kill you for this disrespect."

"I wouldn't try it. I have more men in this town now than anyone else. You wouldn't make it to the sidewalk." Your father swallows deeply. He knows he's beaten, so he turns to you.

"I'm going home to Chicago. You're coming with me. Your mother misses you." There's a small pang in your heart at the thought of your mother. Elvis puts his arm around your waist and pulls you to him protectively. His grip steadies you and you feel more confident than you have since you walked into the casino.

"No, I'm not. I'm sorry about mother, but I'm not going back to Chicago." Your father's anger flares up again and he reaches for one of his guns. But Elvis beats him to the punch.

"Here's the deal, Mr. Y/l/n. I bought your casino. And I'm gonna marry your daughter. You can accept that and leave, or I can shoot you right here, right now. It's up to you." Your father looks between the two of you and then down at the gun Elvis has pointed at him. He spits at you and throws his gun on the table. Then, he turns on his heel and walks out of the room. Elvis turns to you and pulls you into a passionate kiss.

"I can't believe that just happened." You shake your head incredulously.

"It did, Sugar. Now. I already asked the question and you already said yes. All that's left to decide is when and I say tonight is as good a night as any."

"That's why I'm wearing white!"

"What do you say, Sugar?" You nod your head excitedly and throw your arms around his neck.

You manage to make it in and out of a chapel without anyone noticing who you are. And you've got a slew of bodyguards with you anyway.

You barely make it the short ride to the casino before you've got your hands in his pants. Instead, you make it to the elevator and he hits the stop button while you yank his pants down and drop to your knees in front of him. You hold the base of his cock with one hand and lick a slow circle around the tip. Then you run your tongue along the bottom of the shaft and tease him a little.

"Goddamn, Sugar." He weaves his fingers into your hair as you pull him deep into your throat. He holds your head still and begins to thrust into your mouth, making your eyes water. Suddenly, he stops and tries to pull away from you. "Mmmm. Daddy wants to fuck you, Sugar, and if you don't stop I won't be able to."

You back off of him and stand up. He pushes your back against the wall and lines his cock up with your entrance. Then, he bends his knees a little and pushes into you like he's done so many times before. But this time, he's your husband.

"Hey." You grab his face and look into his eyes. "Don't pull out this time."

"You sure, Sugar?"

"We're married, aren't we?" He kisses your mouth, your cheek, your neck, and then your mouth again. You didn't know he would be so excited, but he is. The prospect of another child is something that's excited him since he met you. He begins to pump in and out of you deeply.

"God, I love you, Sugar."

He pounds into you rhythmically for a few more minutes before you feel him shudder into you.

"Oh fuckkk yes." He yells as he fills you with his warmth for the first time, but certainly not the last. He stays inside you for a while, kissing your neck. Then, he slowly pulls out and starts the elevator again as you adjust your skirt and he puts himself away. When the doors slide open, the men posted there nod to him. One of them says, "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Presley." And you giggle. You're Mrs. Presley.

He scoops you into his arms and carries you across the threshold. You've finally accepted that the mafia will be your life forever. But as long as it's a life with him, you couldn't care less.

******

Share your thoughts! I love to hear from you! 🩷🩷🩷

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Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @elvisbooty76

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis presley fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley x you #elvis presley fanfic #mafia au #mafia!elvis

[thatcatsalem]

Sorcerer!Sukuna NS*FW Alphabet

Sukuna x OC (Yuri)

For the posts that are in the format of headcanons and such, “you” will be used as a method of storytelling. Outside of those, the main story will revert back to third person.

A = Aftercare

Usually just grabs you and throws both of you in a shower to get clean. He doesn’t like the feeling of dried cum on his skin, but he will happily fool around in the shower as well.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his back and arms, and often flexes his biceps. He also quite enjoys his thighs because you look so vulnerable between them, sucking his cock.

On you, it is your ass. He will constantly have his arms on your bottom, whether it just by grabbing it, stroking it or slapping it. He likes your stomach and hips, it is his favourite place to cum and he will grab onto your sides if you try and squiggle away.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

It tastes a bit tangy, with citrusy bitterness to it. He cums loads during the first round, and often doesn’t have much control on where it goes. He doesn’t like the feeling of dried cum on his skin so when he jerks off, he either aims away from himself or just does it in the shower.

As per you, he loves cumming on your ass or stomach, but also enjoys seeing you trying to swallow it all. He finds a weird sense of pride seeing his cum leaking from your cunt, and will always attempt to show it back.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He really enjoys being fingered during oral sex but would rather choke on his own tongue than confess that. You only discovered that because you decided to boss him around in bed and lapped on his ass with vigour whilst fisting his cock. Sukuna came so much that he had to deep clean the bed with a steamer; it soaked through covers and mattress protector.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He had his fair share of hook ups and a couple of beneficial relationships. He has slept with a few of his sorcerer colleagues, both women and men, but never has been one for relationship.

Only with you did he get to truly experiment with his skills, and hone it out so well that he was now able to make you cum with a few flicks of his tongue if they mood is set right.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Mating press. It’s deep, it’s close, it’s fucking hot and he gets to look you in the eyes when he is rearranging your guts. He loves fucking you during your period because you are so much more sensitive and your cervix is practically weeping for him to soak it.

He likes the feeling of your ankles pressing against his shoulders and will growl so loud it will practically make you cum right there. His balls will smack against your skin, ass juggling with each trust, and your moans only will spiral him into madness. It’s difficult for you to concentrate on anything, pinned under him like an animal with a feral beast of a man mounting you, snaked protectively over your body with his cock buried as deep as possible.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He doesn’t have much time for jokes but he will laugh if you get desperate and start begging him. He will tease and outright bully you playfully but won’t break the spell of intimate sex.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He keeps himself well groomed, with dark happy trail and has piercing on his cock that he definitely regrets as an adult but doesn’t take off because it makes you feel absolutely otherworldly when it rubs against you g-spot. First time it happened, you squirted all over his hips and then some more.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

Depends on the mood, really. Sometimes he will be quite intimate and sometimes it will be so urgent and rough that there will be no room for romance.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t like the feeling of dried cum on his skin so when he jerks off, he either aims away from himself or just does it in the shower.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Choking. Choke him, let him choke you. Squeeze his windpipe, let him cover your mouth whilst you cumming and cut off your air supply.

He is also incredibly proficient in art of Shibari, so he will not just tie you up, but will hang you upside down, spread and ready for him to feast on you.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Balconies, roofs, windowsills - he likes the thrill of being in a public space yet too far away from prying eyes. He will press you against a window, fully dressed, and will finger you so tortuously that you will have to beg him to let you cum.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

He is a man, most things will turn him on. He does get particularly rowdy every time you will be fighting against someone, smooth and deadly, and will immediately will need to fuck you against nearest surface. Power turns him on.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Sukuna doesn’t share. Under no circumstances will he even entertain an idea of cuckholding or threesome, the only thought of it makes his blood boil. He will quite literally slice anyone who will look at you funny.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Either, really. He doesn’t think there needs to be a favourite between two, and will always happily partake in 69-ing. He will double his efforts in order to make you break first, and will buck his hips further down your throat to make you choke on his cock as you are cumming in his mouth.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Sukuna has to be in a peculiar mood to be slow and sensual, and usually prefers sex to be quite rough and fast. He doesn’t particularly like the idea of fucking for hours on end and finishes his rounds fairly fast, but is ready for another session not much later if not straight away.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He likes them; but in his mind a quickie should be done in semi-public setting, like a car or utility closet. Otherwise, you might as well enjoy the experience.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Sukuna is all about experimenting; but he will need his partner enthusiastic consent or he ain’t doing it. He is not dealing with someone’s teats that aren’t from pleasure. He doesn’t find the idea of hysterics attractive, so he uses strict green, amber and red rule in the bedroom.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Doesn’t last very point but can go as many as physically possible rounds a day. His personal record with you is eight in a row, with only a small break for lunch.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He does have toys and enjoys using them on both himself and you. He will not be opposed of you using them on him, and he will demonstrate the variety of his collectibles that ranges between stunning crystal butt plugs and expensive ropes he uses to tie you up to his cat o’nine tails and collars for you to wear.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

You might as well just give up, because this man will tease you until your eyes are rolling, thighs are trembling, and until you can only choke on your own saliva instead of any witty comments.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He is not necessarily vocal, but he does moan and grunt in restrained manner, and you will do anything in your arsenal to make him whine. He does it so reluctantly and with defeated growl that it straight up makes your cunt clench.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

In this universe, Sukuna is bisexual. He tends to date and sleep with women, but he has had sex with men, even if he never dated any (he didn’t really date anyone other than you… no one had the patience…). It wasn’t a common occurrence in his life and it doesn’t really poses an opportunity due to his dating life, but he will never say no to you eating his ass out and making him cum from you pressing onto his prostrate.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He is above average, but not incredibly long - it’s mostly his girth that makes you lose your shit. He will reach your cervix through a specific angle and make you whine and cry but it’s the stretch of your walls accommodating him each time that makes it truly unforgettable. He has a piercing on his cockhead and two rings of tattoos around his base. He is well groomed but doesn’t really shave that often.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Quite high but he can go for a week or so without much need for sex - to the point that it won’t even cross his mind to initiate anything unless he it is instigated; he is that constantly tired. Before you, his hook ups were mostly a weekly occurrence, but nowadays are a more frequent engagement.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Almost immediately - this man is tired and will need a short nap straight away. So it is either shower or sleep. Or both.

If you liked this, leave a comment 🩵

#jjk #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna x oc #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna x oc #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader smut #jjk smut

[sweetiewrites]

Hobie x a coquette!reader hcs? Please?🥺 sfw and smut

I’m going to be 🪷 anon from now on

𝙎𝙔𝙉𝙊𝙋𝙎𝙄𝙎: hobie with a reader whom is coquette

𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂: some storytelling ! some smut ! some nice things !

𝘼𝙐𝙏𝙃𝙊𝙍𝙎 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀: i did a bit of research to figure out what coquette means but i think i have it figured out. feel free to send another ask and tell me this is not what you meant !

❥ i am just going to say this now; this is definitely going to be an enemies to lovers kinda deal. hobie much prefers people who are genuine and truly raw with their feelings so there is obviously going to be a bit of a clash

❥ hobie is smart and he's super perceptive so he sees right through any flirting technique you try to play on him

❥ through all that he does still respects the hustle of being able to pull that off especially if you're targeting richer men i think he would actually find himself attracted to it

❥ hobie would egg you on even when you start dating; he'd find people for you to play with and then pretends like he finds it disgusting even though he is actively encouraging you to do it

❥ i think this would be one of those things where you would very obviously have to prove you like him and enjoy being in a relationship with him and then he'd take it more seriously

❥ i think the sex between him and someone who is coquette is going to be either super soft and loving or really rough and mean

❥ hobie doesn't believe in traditional roles but he very obviously gets jealous and possessive over you even if he knows it's all just fake and it's simply a game for you

❥ he's going to fuck you so hard, make you beg and cry his name for everyone to hear you. he wants everyone to know that while you may have "side pieces" you still come home to him

❥ he's either hammering into you or requesting so much soft loving from you, no in between

❥ he loves when you're on top showering him in kisses and telling him how much you adore him and how you can't live without him. hobie just wants the sexual reassurance that you're his favourite person

#across the spiderverse #atsv imagines #atsv x reader #spiderverse #astv #atsv hobie #hobie brown #hobie brown headcanons #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x reader #coquette #hobie x you #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n #atsv smut

[phoenixkaptain]

Gotta be honest, the idea that Luke wouldn’t send a child alone in an X-wing with only a droid for company is funny to me.

Like, we’re talking about the same Luke, right? The one who spent years bulls-eyeing womp rats and took the experience from that to then blow up the Death Star? The one who was like “This is a trap… I’m gonna walk right into it.” The one who was like “I will rescue my dear friend by waltzing in without a disguise and being as obnoxious as possible.” “How do we get out of this situation? How about we convince these small bear creatures that our droid is a god, that will probably work.” “I know Darth Vader is a murderer who murdered my Ben and is trying to murder me and all, but he is also my dad and therefore I love him.”

Luke would send a child in an X-wing without even fucking thinking about it! Do you REALLY think LUKE SKYWALKER is a reasonable human being?? Are you honestly trying to tell me that this man who has been driving the same fucking ship for like ten years would understand how dangerous it is to put an unsupervised child in a vehicle??? Do you really honestly truly think that Luke knows how to care for children????

You see, a lot of people like to portray Luke as perfect. And this is the same issue I have with people who portray Obi-Wan as perfect, or Yoda, or Mace, or literally any character in all of Star Wars because the whole point is that the are flawed human beings!

But it’s ESPECIALLY egregrious with Luke because I don’t know where any of you got this idea that Luke is a sweet summer child??? This man has a death count of over one million. This man had Seen Some Shit that it is literally impossible not to be affected by. Why do so many people assume that Luke at the end of the Trilogy is the same as Luke at the beginning of the Trilogy? He’s changed! He’s a different person! That’s what makes the Original Trilogy such a good trilogy!! It’s basic storytelling!!! A character canNOT be at the same place mentally as when they began the story, or else it’s not a good story!

But also, I hate the way this colours shipping fics with Luke. Like, listen. There is no ship where Luke should be the straightman of the relationship. Luke Skywalker just is not normal. He’s weird, he’s deranged, he’s so strange; he cannot be a straightman, it just doesn’t work. It’s so completely out of character it isn’t even funny.

The joy of shipping Luke is that every single thing that you can ship Luke with will come out the other sode looking rational.

Han Solo is a smuggler who hangs out with a Wookiee and who does extremely dangerous, stupid shit, but next to Luke?? Rational. Normal. Someone who uses their brain, Luke, take notes-

Din Djarin is a bounty hunter who decided that he would rather destroy an entire group of highly dangerous men than give up the cute kid he just found. But compared to Luke? At least he has equipment on him!

Mara Jade literally was mind-controlled by the Emperor and was Darth Vader’s coworker and was also a Jedi (something that no rational person would be honestly) and even she comes across as normal compared to Luke Skywalker.

I know this is rambly and disjointed and I know people disagree with me, but like??? Yes, I think Luke is great with kids. Yes, I think Luke is a good teacher. Yes, I think Luke is the type of person to wave goodbye as an infant flies off in his warship. I think Luke is the type of person who would throw a child into the air way too high and then catch them. Where did the idea that he’s the responsible parent come from? Luke is teaching infants how to use laser swords, do you REALLY THINK that’s what a responsible parent would do????

#luke skywalker #star wars #star wars original trilogy #the mandalorian #dinluke #hanluke #maraluke #grogu #din djarin #han solo #mara jade #i keep seeing people treat luke like he is a preschool teacher #and i also view him as a preschool teacher #but not the preschool teacher who is seventy eight and croons about how good her darlings are doing #no luke is the preschool teacher who eats sticks with his students #he is absolutely unhinged and this is just a canon fact #luke skywalker would not see anything wrong with a baby flying an x wing #it just isn’t in character for him to think that’s weird #he was going to give the baby a laser sword #do you think he would draw the line at a gun ship #the inane ramblings of a madman #ranting #long post

[wellofdean]

OK, I was going to reblog this excellent post by @luckshiptoshore so go read it, because yes. Yes!! YES!!! But then when I got started my post got super long and I felt bad tacking it onto her post and decided to make my own in response to these tags:

#i am actually a bit obsessed by the whole hunting as queerness metaphor#it’s so clearly something everyone involved in the show is thinking about#supernatural

Gurl, me too! Like go back to the start! By the time Supernatural began, the backlash against the Joseph Campbell Monomyth-style mode of storytelling had already begun in the hallowed halls of USC film school, and yo: I was there at the time of Kripke's graduation, and my best friends from college are full scale big giant time filmmakers now, whose names I will not share on main because it's uncool, and I don't want that attention, but... yeah. I am referencing FIRST HAND SOURCES on this.

But, for a real source? The Oxford English Dictionary places the first use of the term "Queer Theory" in 1990, with Queer Studies as an option in the academy by 1992. I know the kids think it's a new-fangled thing, but Kripke graduated USC in 1996 (I graduated in 1995) and it was ALL THE RAGE by then. My friends read queer theory in their Critical Studies courses in the Film School, I read it in the College of Humanities getting my degree in Literature. By that time, you could not get through that school with any degree in any non-STEM subject without knowing about ye olde postmodern lenses, queer and feminist theory, and without knowing how to employ those lenses.

Queer refers to sexuality, yes, but the word's earliest use (again, according to the OED) is in the 1500's, meaning: strange, odd, peculiar, eccentric. Also: of questionable character; suspicious, dubious.

So, ok, in 2005, Enter Supernatural, episode 1:

Presented? Two brothers. One actively seeking credit in the straight world that is not available to him in the bosom of his family: Stanford, law school, hot co-ed girlfriend, the other bound to his fractured, wounded family by duty, yes, but also by love, living on the fringe, alone, fighting monsters, and chasing after his father's approval, and who has long since given up any dream of being 'normal'. Episode 1 presents Sam's call to adventure, which he refuses when it's just familial duty, honor and love calling him, but accepts when the show takes a very straightforward and very telling path by classically fridging his woman. Ok, now he's on board. Like John, whose motivation is another dead woman, his motivation is revenge. So far so straight!

Dean though: he's different. He is already on the adventure and he was not 'called' or given the option of accepting or refusing because he had no agency when his feet were set upon this road. He does not fit the straight world at all, because he is cobbled together out of love, duty, deep guilt, striving, desperation and fear. This is who he is now, in some elemental, incontrovertible way. It was not a choice for him, he was born to it. His mother is dead, and we later learn, she made the choices that brought them all to this fate. Dean remembers her idyllically, but he is not motivated by revenge, more than any other thing, he wants to be worthy. He wants his father's approval, his brother's love.

Enter Supernatural's main theme: fucked up relationships between men enmeshed in patriarchy, which will eventually expand to include fucking GOD HIMSELF.

And like, there are SO MANY CLEAR STEPS ALONG THE ROAD in season one, and I am not even talking about sexuality and gender here, but there is SO MUCH TO SAY about it in season 1. But I am not talking about that -- I am talking at a structural, narrative level, the whole thing is just fucking all the way queered, yo.

The big climax?

At the end of the season, Dean says: "I just want my family back together. You, me, Dad... it's all I have." He is Sam's mother, John's partner! His vulnerability and emotion is feminized and contrasted with Sam and John's more overtly driven by their more masculine/straight heroic revenge quest. John: "Sam and I can get pretty obsessed, but you always take care of this family." Only that's not John talking, it's Azazel, and Dean knows it is because his father would never forgive how soft he is, how he will always choose love and family over revenge. Then, in the end, the show makes a huge point of telegraphing that Sam is finally aligning with Dean by refusing to shoot Azazel because he's possessing John, and Sam just can't do that to Dean.

Sam and Dean are thus bound together and cemented into a marginalised path, living on the road, haunting liminal spaces and cheap motels, confronting the monstrous everyday. Sam is presented as the brains of the operation, he does research, logics his way through things (masculine) while Dean is the heart who acts impulsively and on instinct and intuition (feminine).

It later transpires that Sam has a piece of the monster inside himself, and Dean has to learn to love the monstrous, he has no choice, because Sam is his brother and then Cas... and, and, and!

Like... I could go on and on, citing ENDLESS EXAMPLES. This could be a literal book. Maybe one you need to read with a magnifying glass like my condensed edition of the OED. LIke, the queerness of Supernatural is DIZZYING and MYRIAD.

But basically? FROM THE START, hunting is a queered version of family, and within that, Dean is a queered version of a Campbellian hero. Hunting is a metaphor for otherness and liminality, and that's even before you say a WORD about sex. It starts in deviation from the norms of family, masculinity and expands from there on so many levels both in story and on a meta level. The story is flesh on queer fucking bones.

I'm so sorry, but anyone who thinks queerness was not BAKED INTO Supernatural and more specifically into Dean from DAY 1 has clearly never seen Dean's insane lip gloss in season 1, and vastly underestimates the cultural awareness of people who write shit in Hollywood, and also the other people who put pink lip gloss on pretty boys in Hollywood. Nothing that gets on your screen wasn't a fucking choice made and approved by a LONG LIST of people who know what they are about.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #the queerness is baked in from the word go #like...OBVIOUSLY #and transparently

[oceanpulls]

Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross have a plan to soundtrack everything

Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross – best friends and Nine Inch Nails bandmates – found unlikely creative fulfilment (and a couple of Oscars) by reassessing what they had to offer as musicians. Now they’re thinking even bigger, and imagining an artistic empire of their own making

By Zach Baron

Photography by Danielle Levitt

Every weekday, Trent Reznor makes his way from his house, a cottagey sprawl behind a white wall in a canyon on Los Angeles’s Westside, to a studio he’s built in his backyard. There he meets his best friend, bandmate, and business partner, Atticus Ross, and they get to work. Reznor and Ross observe the same hours, Monday to Friday, 11am to 7pm. “We show up,” Reznor told me. “We’re not late. We’re not coming in to start to fuck around.” It’s a methodical, orderly existence that Reznor could not have foreseen in the ’90s, when he was fronting Nine Inch Nails and struggling with a drug-and-alcohol problem that was his answer to success. “I would do anything to avoid writing a song,” Reznor said. “I’d rewire the studio 50 times.”

Now Reznor has a wife, Mariqueen Maandig, five children, and multiple jobs. He is sober. Since 2010, when the director David Fincher asked Reznor and Ross to score The Social Network, for which Reznor and Ross won an Oscar, the two men have had steady employment composing for film. This year, Reznor and Ross are also starting a yet-to-be-named company, built around storytelling in multiple disciplines: film production, fashion, a music festival, and a venture with Epic Games.

And then, of course, there is the oldest and perhaps still the most complicated of Reznor’s jobs: being the frontman of Nine Inch Nails. In 1988 Reznor formed what was then a one-man band; the first two full-length records Nine Inch Nails released, Pretty Hate Machine(1989) and The Downward Spiral (1994), have sold more than eight million copies. (Over subsequent years and subsequent albums, the band has since crossed the 20 million mark in sales.) In the ’90s, for a time, Nine Inch Nails were ubiquitous: a phenomenon on the level of Nirvana or Dr Dre. During that decade, the success of the band nearly killed Reznor. “I didn’t feel prepared to process how disorientating that was,” he said. “How much it can distort your personality.”

These days, Nine Inch Nails, which Ross joined as a full-time member in 2016, present a different problem – how do you make something old, something so already well-defined, new again? There are years when Reznor feels like he has the answers and years when he’s less certain. He has put the band on hiatus more than once; after the last Nine Inch Nails tour, in 2022, Reznor deliberately took a break from playing shows as well. “For the first time in a long time I wasn���t sure: what’s the tour going to say?” Reznor told me. “What do I have to say right now? We can still play those songs real good. Maybe we can come up with a new production. But it wasn’t screaming at me: this is what to do right now.”

But he and Ross still come to work, daily, in search of transcendence. “We sit in here every day,” Reznor said. “And a portion of the time organically becomes us just figuring out who we are as people and processing life and a kind of therapy session. And in those endless hours it’s come up: why do we want to do this? And the reason is because we both feel the most in touch with God and fulfilled.”

It is easy to make things when you are a teenager growing up in rural Pennsylvania, near the Ohio border, as Reznor was, and you have nothing to lose and everything to gain; it is considerably harder, once you’ve got older, and found a way to make things that people like, to keep going. It’s an old story: the act of creation can lift you up, but those sharp gifts can also destroy you, and if you make it past that, the sheer blissful regularity of life with money and a family can even you out so thoroughly that there is no friction left to work with. You look inside the cupboard and the cupboard is bare, or it’s a mansion and living inside of it is a person you’re bored of, and so you stop looking. But Reznor and Ross have never stopped looking, and the search for that magical feeling of finding something – that feeling of, in Reznor’s words, “I don’t know where it came from. I don’t know how I just did what I did, but I’ve channelled it into something that worked” – is still the thing that organises their days and their moods.

We were talking in their studio, which was low-lit and cold and full of synthesizers’ blinking lights. Reznor was on a sofa and Ross sat in a chair nearby. The two men first met in the ’90s, when Reznor signed Ross’s band, 12 Rounds, to Reznor’s Nothing Records. Soon after, they became friends, and then musical collaborators. “I was just getting sober,” Reznor said, “and I was in a pretty fragile transitional phase. And I just hit it off with Atticus right off the bat. And part of it was, he was someone who was on much firmer ground, in a mentor-y kind of way, than I was.”

Ross is two years younger than Reznor, but when they met, he’d already been through certain things Reznor was just getting around to. “I got clean when I was very young,” Ross told me. “So I had a bit more experience than him. Put it like this: I knew you could have fun without being high.”

Their friendship has been a constant in both their lives since. “I don’t know if parts of us are broken and we don’t feel good enough,” Reznor said, staring at the ceiling of the studio, “but we know if we work as hard as we can and do the best work we can, it fixes something. At the core of it, that’s what unites us creatively. On top of that, I think his take on the world and role in life helps me understand my place and not feel as detached in some ways.”

Reznor often jokes, or simply explains, that he is a “quart low” on whatever it is that makes people happy. “I think we can both, on our own devices, run below zero as a baseline,” Reznor said. “I don’t mean manic depression, I just mean we don’t take compliments well. It’s like when we won the Oscar, it was the day after: ‘Let’s take today guilt-free, kind of say fuck yeah.’ And tomorrow we’ll have settled back down to a few feet below sea level.”

In their years of collaborating with each other, both men have found some mutual reassurance – a little lift. Reznor gestured at Ross.

“I remember something he said to me – I don’t know if you want me to say this or not – in one of our talks years ago: ‘Here’s what I want today.’”

“I see what’s coming,” Ross said, nervously.

“I just want to feel OK,” Reznor said, quoting his friend. “I want to feel like I’m OK.”

One day this winter, Reznor greeted me at the door of their studio – in the course of reporting this story, I never saw him anywhere else – wearing a black hoodie made by the synthesizer company Moog, black jeans, and black running shoes. At 58, Reznor still retains the angular intensity and jet-black hair of his youth, but time and fatherhood seem to have made him quicker to smile. He looks a little like a college professor now, or an unusually-well-cared-for software engineer. He led me back, past walls of unused gear and several black-clad mannequins, all of which startled me, to their primary workspace, where Ross – a tall west Londoner (he grew up in Ladbroke Grove) with a stern face and a pleasantly reedy voice – sat at a computer, also all in black. (Once, I asked the two men whether their upcoming clothing line would feature any colour. “No,” Reznor said, incredulously. “Of course not.”)

They were on deadline for two films at the moment, including Luca Guadagnino’s forthcoming Queer. “But we’re trying not to work,” Reznor said, drily. Leaned up against one wall was a photo of the two in tuxedos, accepting the Academy Award for best original score for their work on The Social Network. Reznor had contributed to soundtracks before, in the ’90s, but he’d never formally scored a film until The Social Network.

But Reznor and Ross quickly realised that the work, in some ways, wasn’t so different from songwriting. “What do we do when we write a song?” Reznor asked. “We’re trying to emotionally connect with somebody.” Take the Mark Zuckerberg character in The Social Network:“Here’s somebody who thinks this idea is so important that it’s worth kind of fucking your friends over for it. And then realising maybe it wasn’t worth it, or I didn’t realise how I’d feel if I got what I wanted at the price of this. I can relate to that in my own language. Suddenly there’s music.”

“I’m grateful not to be as angry and frustrated and desperate as I have felt in the past,” Reznor said. “I couldn’t have predicted that I would feel this level of fulfilment.”

And Reznor found that he enjoyed the exercise of solving someone else’s problems instead of his own. “There’s something about not being the boss and working again in service to something that I initially felt guilty for feeling kind of fulfilled by in a weird way.”

Reznor said that on another Fincher film, Mank, the director suggested: “What if it sounded like maybe inspired by Bernard Herrmann and as if it were recorded in 1935 and this film canister sat on the shelf for 60 years?” OK, interesting. (Ross and Reznor were nominated for that one too.)

On the first film the two men scored for Guadagnino, Bones and All, “we got a cut of that that was nearly four hours long with no music and we kind of thought, Oh, fuck,” Reznor said. “Four hours we sat without a pee break, transfixed. It didn’t need music. And when you watch that you approach it differently.” Then Guadagnino brought them Challengers, due for worldwide release in April. Reznor said, “He started us down a path, saying, ‘What if it was very loud techno music through the whole film?’” (This is exactly what it turned out to be.)

“I wish I had his notes,” Ross said of Guadagnino. “His notes were so fucking funny on what each piece was meant to do.”

“Oh, yeah,” Reznor said. “‘Unending homoerotic desire.’ It was all a variation on those three words.”

They liked the challenge of scoring, they found, and that feeling of not being in control. They also liked the way it made them crave being in control again: “It makes you more inspired to work on other stuff when we’re finished,” Reznor said. “Even if it’s just, Thank God it’s done now and we can appreciate the freedom we had before we gave it up.”

These days, Reznor and Ross also like having jobs that let them be at home, around their families. Both men had tumultuous or lonely lives when they were younger; both men have found that fatherhood soothes certain unresolved aspects of their pasts. Ross has three kids, and “probably the greatest reward is how balanced and happy they all are compared to – certainly my growing up was an unusual sort of scenario. It was a fairly chaotic youth.” Ross comes from a notable English family, but his immediate lineage was more unstable. “My dad had a club called Flipper’s Roller Boogie Palace in LA in the ’70s,” Ross told me. “He went bankrupt in England and had a judgment passed against him where he couldn’t talk to a bank manager for 15 years. So he moved here and opened this sort of Studio 54 on roller skates on La Cienega and Santa Monica.” Ross held up a coffee-table book full of photos of the club. “You don’t need to look at it, but it was just a mad life. So I grew up in some madness.”

It is particularly endearing to see Reznor, who at a distance was a fierce and terrifying figure in his 20s and 30s, find domestic bliss. I am old enough that my adolescence coincided neatly with the S&M-flavoured, I wanna fuck you like an animal era of Nine Inch Nails; when I was leaving Reznor’s house one day, I noted with some amusement the cheerful mundanity of a basketball hoop in the backyard. “I’m grateful not to be as angry and frustrated and desperate as I have felt in the past,” Reznor told me. “I couldn’t have predicted that there was a world where I would have a sizeable family with kids and feel the level of fulfilment and comfort and be able to live in that.”

Was that something you were consciously seeking before you found it?

“I think I had some abandonment issues from my parents splitting up, or feeling I never fit in, and I’d gotten accustomed to being on my own. And largely due to my own, I think, inability to really be intimate with people, or share or be open or know how to be a friend or a partner to somebody… Trying that out and doing it with pure and full immersion has led to an unexpectedly great outcome.”

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

The other film project Reznor and Ross were on deadline for was Scott Derrickson’s The Gorge, a science-fiction thriller starring Miles Teller and Anya Taylor-Joy. They were working on a lengthy, music-dependent scene that they’d already mostly scored. But, Ross said, “the director wants it to be a bit more, I can’t think of a better word than just a bit more scary and intense.” They weren’t sure what that directive meant, exactly, but they were content – they were happy – to try to figure it out: to enter the room once again, carrying nothing, and to try to leave it with something that didn’t exist before.

Ross called up the scene on a monitor at the centre of a long mixing board: Teller and Taylor-Joy in an evil-looking spiky forest. Reznor and Ross have somewhat fluid roles in their collaboration, but today the plan was for Reznor to improvise some music while Ross edited and manipulated it in real time. “Atticus’ superpower,” Reznor said, “is that I can come up with a melody and a chord change, and he can make that sit on the scene in a way that is meticulous, and mind-numbingly boring to watch him do.”

A studio assistant, also in all black, presented himself to help Reznor set up a microphone and a cello next to a keyboard that sat underneath another computer monitor. Ross hit play on the footage and what they’d already completed of the score, a kind of haunted, chanting murmur. “It’s basically atmosphere at the moment,” Ross said. Next to him was a synthesizer whose make and model he asked me not to print and which the two men use as a kind of sound ecosystem to feed stuff into.

Reznor began by pushing down on the piano’s keyboard, while with his other hand he manipulated the sound with a flat synthesizer on the desk in front of him. It began as a kind of mellow pan flute thing, and then, with a push of a few buttons, became more of a sad, Social Network-ish plonk. Ross stood up and started tapping the synthesizer to his left, and the sounds Reznor made began to loop and accumulate – little melodic figures that plunged in and out of feedback. Reznor moved from the piano to the microphone, where he sang a few soft passages in a baritone falsetto, more sad than spooky, and then to the cello, which he played slowly and choppily. Ross moved between the computer and the synthesizer, trying to harness it all as it built to a loud, echoing crescendo.

After about 20 minutes, Reznor sat back in his chair, and Ross soon followed suit. Everything got quiet again. “It’s going fishing,” Reznor said to me, shrugging. “Sometimes something happens.”

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Or, sometimes, everything happens. One of the first things you see when you arrive at Reznor’s home studio are two original paintings by the Yorkshire artist Russell Mills – on the left, a razor against a rusty red background; on the right, a decaying yellow-and-black collage – that ultimately became the insert and the cover art for Nine Inch Nails’ The Downward Spiral. This is the record with “Hurt” and “Closer” on it. It’s an album Reznor nearly didn’t survive.

Why do I bring this up? Well. If I may, for a moment, sound like the ageing dude in a black T-shirt leaning against the back wall of a bar where you’re just trying to be young and free of recitations of what the year 1994 felt like, there was a different quality to the way things would happen in music. Bands would labour for years, unknown, and then just get struck by lightning, is the best way I can put it: one day, you’re just a guy, and then one radio station plays your song, and then every radio station plays your song, and everyone is listening to those radio stations, because there is nothing else to do, and then MTV loops your video, and everyone watches it because, again, there is nothing else to do, and all of a sudden you are known by millions of bored people in a way that doesn’t quite happen now. This is a gross oversimplification, of course, but here Reznor is, one of the very few people who have experienced the thing I’m describing. I thought: let’s just ask him what that was like.

Reznor said, OK, he could tell me exactly what it felt like. He gave me a single moment: Woodstock ’94, which Nine Inch Nails almost didn’t play – “it seemed like it was going to be gross, to be honest with you” – but ultimately did. “And when we got there, it was terrifying,” Reznor said. “It was way bigger than I pictured in my head and walking on stage. But this is the point of the story: I knew. You could feel like you were in the right place at the right time.”

In retrospect, how did you handle success?

“Had a drink. That’s what sent me down the path. I wasn’t the guy that, you know, at 12 years old cracked a beer. That wasn’t it at all. Just, I feel anxious around people. I’m not sure how to act, especially now that you’re someone that’s supposed to act a certain way. There’s a projection. It feels uncomfortable to walk down the street and people are looking at you because they recognise you. That’s weird. Suddenly everybody wants to be your friend and you’re the coolest. Everyone wants to date you and shit like that.” Reznor said he found it was “easier to have a beer before I go in that room, and then a couple of beers before I go in that room. And pretty soon over a period of time, wait a minute, things start to get out of control. And you know how the story goes.”

Here’s how the story went: Reznor began to wonder if Trent Reznor could ever live up to the Nine Inch Nails guy that people had in their heads. “The reason I was having to drink was to fix that problem, my own insecurity. But the net result is: I’m not really who I am because now I’ve got drugs or alcohol in my system and I’m not thinking as who I really am. And that comes into focus once one gets sober and has time to reflect and kind of think about what got you there and shit you did.”

Eventually, Reznor got sober, and built himself back up. Today he’s happy to talk about all of it, obviously, but he and Ross have done a lot together since – 10 albums’ worth of Nine Inch Nails (Ross was an official member of the band for five of them), among other things – and Reznor is, by nature, not one to dwell too much on the past of a band that he’s still very much trying to figure out. “We’re not fans of resting on our laurels. We’ve been afraid of thinking about nostalgia. That’s a whole other conversation, but the reality is we’re getting older and our fans are getting older and that’s a fact. And I think, say, during the pandemic, not that you asked this question, but as I’m sure everybody was, I was pretty genuinely freaked out and very clearly came into focus: I’ve got to protect my family.”

He was consumed by fear, by terror of what might happen, of what he might do about it. “I can’t even fit all my kids in a car,” Reznor said. “But in the midst of that anxiety, sitting alone in here, I found comfort in nostalgia. I found comfort looking back at things from my youth that I’ve been afraid to even allow myself to glimpse at because it meant artistic death. Because one has to look forward. One can’t be self-referential. I was so afraid growing up in a little shitty town. I could see people that thought the highlight of their life is junior in high school catching the football. You know what I mean? That’s it. That was the peak. I don’t want to fucking be that person. I could see my fate if I stayed in that town.”

In those moments sitting by yourself, what were you getting nostalgic for?

“I miss parts of living in Pennsylvania. I miss a simpler life that I grew up with. I really loved the first INXS album in 1983. I was a senior in high school, and when I listen to it now I could almost start crying because it fucking reminds me of driving in a shitty fucking car in the summer in Pennsylvania. You know what I mean? Man. I allowed myself to kind of immerse myself in who I was at that time, and what it felt like.”

Reznor had been trying to remake himself ever since he left where he grew up, and now here he is in Los Angeles, over 40 years later. “And I kind of went on a deep dive for a while and allowed myself to realise: I am who I am. And the things that made me weren’t the cool things. I’d always been ashamed of: I came from a shitty town; I didn’t have an exotic upbringing; shitty education, you know what I mean? That’s who I am. I’m not sure what the point of all that confession was.”

Well, except: “It plays into where I’m at now.”

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The last time I saw Reznor and Ross, it was once again in their studio. They were sitting very still. Had they been working before I got there?

“We were for a little bit,” Ross said. “And then nervously thinking about you arriving.”

Really? It’s OK if that’s the truth.

“That’s the truth,” Reznor said. They’d just been in this room for the past weeks, months – years, really, he said. Head down. Working. He gestured at me. “It’s a different mindset.”

And “I was thinking about something you said the other day,” Reznor said. That was on a Friday. I’d asked a somewhat rude question about their soundtrack work, which was: why would Reznor or Ross work for anyone else when they didn’t have to?

Now it was Monday. “I thought about that over the weekend,” Reznor said. “It’s like, Why are we doing this? The idea comes from what we think is a good place of ‘Let’s break it up. Let’s get sent down the rabbit hole on certain things and feel like we’ve got tasks being assigned to us rather than us just blindly seeing what happens creatively.’ ”

But, he said, “I think coming out of a stretch of a number of films in a row, I want some time of seeing where the wind blows versus: there’s a looming date on a calendar coming up and we’d better get our shit together. And certainly in the last few weeks I’ve been itching to do what we often do, which is just come in and let’s start something that we’re not even sure what it’s for.”

Some of that energy, he and Ross said, would probably become the next Nine Inch Nails album. Doing soundtrack work, Reznor said, had “managed to make Nine Inch Nails feel way more exciting than it had been in the past few years. I’d kind of let it atrophy a bit in my mind for a variety of reasons.”

But now, “I do feel excited about starting on the next record,” Ross said. “I think we’re in a place now where we kind of have an idea.”

And then there was the company, which Reznor and Ross spent the last two years putting together, piece by piece, with the help of John Crawford, their longtime art director, and the producer Jonathan Pavesi. The idea was, what could they do that they hadn’t already done around storytelling? Some of that might take the form of examining Nine Inch Nails from yet another angle – “we’ve been working on homegrown IP around Nine Inch Nails, stories we could tell, and we’re working on developing those in a way that are not what you think they’d be.” (As in: not a biopic.) They also have a show in development with Christopher Storer, the creator of The Bear, they said, and a film with the veteran horror director Mike Flanagan.

Reznor put on a pair of black-rimmed glasses so that he could examine a piece of paper next to him. “We just wrote some notes because I knew I’d forget what the fuck I’m about to say.” There was a short film coming with the artist Susanne Deeken. There was a clothing venture, a T-shirt line made in collaboration with a notable designer whose name they’d like to keep secret for now, which will arrive this summer. There was a music festival that they were currently planning, “where we’re going to debut as performing as composers along with a roster of other interesting people,” and a record label, both scheduled to launch around the same time.

And for two years they’ve been working with Epic Games on something that is not exactly a video game, in the UEFN ecosystem Epic has built around Fortnite – “It’s what Zuckerberg was trying to bullshit us into calling the metaverse,” Reznor said. “You can’t say that word any more, but in terms of the tool kit, thinking about it through the lens of what could be possible for artists and experiences, we thought that would be an interesting way to tell a story through that.”

They were nervously contemplating the prospect of having day jobs again, of being responsible for more than just themselves. Early on, as they contemplated launching the company, they’d sat down with David Fincher to ask him about movie production: how does it work? “And he’s like, oh, you’re fucked,” Reznor said. “I can distil a two-hour conversation into that. Because, he said, ‘I know you guys, and no one’s going to care more than you do, and you will not be able to let it go.’”

Reznor has actually had this experience before, of being sucked into a project bigger than Nine Inch Nails and having it take over his entire life. Years ago he worked as an executive, first for Beats and then for Apple, building a streaming-music service.

“Trent was very clear when we started,” Ross said. “We cannot let this get into Apple terrain.”

Reznor laughed. “What I mean by that is – I will make this brief; I’m trying to think through what I’m about to talk shit on. Just to self-censor for a second.”

Reznor paused for a moment and then explained. For years, he said, he’d wondered: what would make a good streaming service? This was before the advent of Spotify in the US or Apple Music. Jimmy Iovine, Reznor’s old label boss – later, Iovine would also become Ross’s brother-in-law, after he married Ross’s sister, Liberty, in 2016 – was launching a music service at Beats, which was then acquired by Apple, and Iovine said to Reznor: come try to make this thing a reality. And Reznor surprised himself by saying yes.

“It was a unique opportunity to work at the biggest company in the world at a high level,” Reznor said. “And it was interesting, the scale of the people that you reach through those platforms, just the global amount of influence those platforms can have was exciting. The political situation I was dropped into was not as exciting.”

Reznor enjoyed working with Apple’s design team and its engineering team. “But it made me realise how much I want to be an artist first and foremost.” Reznor also became discouraged with the possibility of fixing the problem that he was trying to solve. “I think the terrible payout of streaming services has mortally wounded a whole tier of artists that make being an artist unsustainable. And it’s great if you’re Drake, and it’s not great if you’re Grizzly Bear. And the reality is: take a look around. We’ve had enough time for the whole ‘All the boats rise’ argument to see they don’t all rise. Those boats rise. These boats don’t. They can’t make money in any means. And I think that’s bad for art. And I thought maybe at Apple there could be influence to pay in a more fair or significant way, because a lot of these services are just a rounding error compared to what comes in elsewhere, unlike Spotify where their whole business is that. But that’s tied to a lot of other political things and label issues, and everyone’s trying to hold onto their little piece of the pie and it is what it is. I also realise, I think that people just want to turn the faucet on and have music come in. They’re not really concerned about all the romantic shit I thought mattered.”

Anyway, Reznor said, turning to Ross, “That was a long-winded way of saying, when we talked about this company, I just said, ‘Be aware of what success might look like because it will turn into something that eats up lots of cycles and time and attention and energy.’ ”

But, Ross said, taking on new responsibilities was, paradoxically, also a way to stay a little younger. “I know we’ve all been talking about being dads and being adults and all that,” Ross said, “and there is a part of me that thinks: it’s important to keep the kid alive.” Meaning the child inside yourself, rather than the one you’re responsible for.

He told a story about him and Reznor visiting the director David Lynch at his house to work with him on the 2017 revival of Twin Peaks. “And I don’t know how old he was at the time,” Ross said, “but he was older. But just walking in there, and he had the room set up and there’s a screen there, there’s some chairs here and there’s some musical instruments there and he’s smoking a cigarette. There’s nothing old about that dude. You know what I mean?”

Lynch showed them some Lynchian footage. It was incredible, even if they didn’t quite know what they were looking at. Lynch was probably 70 or 71 at the time. “But it’s that thing of it doesn’t matter how old he is,” Ross said. “He is alive. It’s that bit of it all that one doesn’t want to lose with age.”

The point was, Reznor said: “Let’s try some stuff. We’re bored. We are. You know what I mean? We’re grateful. We enjoy doing films. We can write a better Nine Inch Nails record, I think. We can put on a cooler tour. We are aimed to do that. But man, what if we try to do that?” Meaning, the company. “What if we could take what we’re good at, like we did with film? We identified something I think we’re good at and we figured out how to apply it to something else. What if we take that theory and try it on some other things? And that’s led us into: we’re not beaten down completely yet. And it feels exciting. That’s what matters to us right now.”

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

Styled by Mobolaji Dawodu Grooming by Johnny Stuntz using Dior Capture Totale Hyalushot SFX Makeup by Malina Stearns Grills by Alligator Jesus Tailoring by Yelena Travkina Set design by Lizzie Lang at 11th House Agency Produced by Emily O’Meara at JN Production

#my ninposting #my transcription #trent reznor #atticus ross #nin #nine inch nails #trent #reznor #gq

[jarviscockerssecrethusband]

One thing I love about the harringrove fandom is the agreement both that Steve is dyslexic and Billy is a MASSIVE reader.

Because while Steve’s always been surrounded by teachers or his parents or exes who either believe that he’s incapable of appreciating reading or that he just doesn’t care, Billy thinks that’s bullshit.

Because when Billy gets told to tutor Steve in English, he doesn’t start with a book for toddlers or fucking Shakespeare. They start with Billy reading him Wuthering Heights.

And at first Steve does not fucking get it. He doesn’t understand the plot, the message and especially not the dialect. But he finds himself enjoying it a lot. Billy’s a natural storyteller. He could be on stage.

Billy’s taste in books is both eclectic and weird. He’s reading Finnigan’s Wake for fun. In Irish. He likes Portuguese romance books and German surrealism and a lot of George Orwell. So much so that Steve kind of feels that love rubbing off on him.

He’d used to like reading. Before he was told he was doing it wrong. And even though he despised the books set by Hawkins High with every fibre of his being, there was this fire set in his belly, a want to impress Billy.

So he starts with The Hobbit. Eddie “Freak” Munson’s the only other dyslexic Steve knew and he loved that shit. How hard could it be?

The Hobbit is fucking difficult. It starts with a map, Steve thinks is in Elvish and some of the chapters feel like they go on forever. The words still bounce around the page and switch constantly. He likes it though. It’s weirdly fun as a story and he finds himself rooting for Bilbo.

Henderson can never know. That is the one thing Steve is certain of.

Billy doesn’t laugh when Steve tells him that’s what he’d decided to start with. He just rolls his eyes, not meanly and says he used to read that with his mom. Back in Cali. Before Neil fucked everything up.

Billy reads a lot of Oscar Wilde. The Importance of Being Earnest is constantly tucked into his back, dog eared and well loved. Steve knows enough about Oscar Wilde to know what that indicates.

Billy’s a poof. A faggot. A queer.

Billy is like Steve.

He doesn’t have the courage to look out for anything gay. Nothing even that hints at the matter. Steve knows that his dad has The Iliad tucked away in his office. He’s away on business while his mom sits in the kitchen and complains about America. Even after 15 years in the States, she still misses Poland.

His daring heist after she goes to bed leads to him sitting on the kitchen floor, crying about Achilles and Patroclus. Billy’s right, classics are a fucking bummer.

Steves not as stupid as other people think. He knows that if this were a book, him and Billy are hurtling towards deaths door. Even in real life, he’s seen the guys on tv, worn down to the bone on hospital beds.

Gay does not equal a happy ending.

He resolves to never touch The Iliad again.

Billy comes to their next session with a black eye and his mullet chopped off. They don’t talk about it.

1984 is depressing. And surprisingly apt for how Steve feels that his 1984 has gone. He does feel like he’s constantly being watched. Like being in love is illegal. Like saying anything too far against the government will have consequences.

Steve asks if Billy thinks Orwell wrote 1984 about America or Russia. Billy snorts but doesn’t answer.

That’s the note they end on for the year.

Christmas comes and goes. So does New Year. Two months of not seeing Billy aches in his gut.

Then he comes back.

It’s the middle of February. Billy’s been kicked out for a week. Steves playing nursemaid.

He’s beaten up pretty bad. Still, Billy insists he’s had worse.

Steve hedges around asking why it happened. Like the confirmation might suddenly make the full scope of their plight real.

Still, eventually Steve asks. Billy looks at him like he’s particularly simple.

He’s gay. Obviously Steve. And he actually has the balls to go out there, meet men, dance. Even if it does mean getting caught by Neil.

During his explanation, Steve notices they’ve gotten closer together. Like significantly closer.

They’re grazing hands. Electric.

Then Billy moves.

Billy kisses him and Steve’s world turns into a fucking supernova.

They kiss and it doesn’t make Neil vanish in a puff of smoke, it doesn’t make the shopkeepers who sneer at his mother go away, it doesn’t make Steve magically able to read.

But it does make Steve feel like maybe they’ll survive.

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove ficlet #dyslexic steve harrington #tw homophobic language #tw abuse

[elizakai]

Picture this with me, humor me cmere. join the storytelling circle.

I really adore seeing messed up characters like, be given the responsibility of taking care children.

I LOVE seeing messed up characters be absolutely appalled at being entrusted to this. why THEM???

but there comes a point where the care inside them is awakened and they become willing to try and grow and change for the better, for the sake of the child the universe decided to thrust at them, and they aren’t PERFECT. They are STILL messed up, and they do things so so wrong…but they TRY, and learn, and grow.

having/taking in a child doesn’t make you a good person. but if you are good, at your core, you’ll WANT to be the best version of yourself you can be, for that child’s sake. (and maybe someday for yours too!)

anyways. i especially love when it’s not even their biological child. it’s that extra layer of “how tf did we get here” and questioning the universe’s parenting ability.

where tf is this going? HORRORDUST HELL YEAH BABY I HAVE NO SHAME ok but like hear me out.

their sent out to do something ok. who tf knows ,all that matters is they are in some au.

there’s probably chaos and wreckage because everywhere they go they cause trouble but as they LEAVE, dust feels a tug on his sweater.

whips around, startled, looks down and-

“sans…?”

uh oh. child. child thinks he’s…just sans. their sans. damn.

child is scared ok maybe cri.

dust just utterly at a loss and awkwardly scrambling to come up with a proper response, looking at horror who’s just as awkwardly standing there.

oh yeah and the child is Red because i say so.

Red. Like, Undertale Red. But a varient. a (more) child like version of Red. whole ass other universe. because i’m. ideas ok. :))

their probably like SANS. SOB.

i can’t find undyne, or the canines, where are they.

(rip they fucking DIED HAHA)

horror probably staring at red like their a lost kitten (don’t tell them that it’ll offend them their a DOG-💥)

dust panicking because this kid shouldn’t be trusting him and their way to close and-

cue the two of them eye banging except it’s just silent arguing and not sexy eye banging

next thing you know a flabbergasted nightmare just watching two of his crazy ass and hella gay men carry in a small rag of a child :)

i have like a million ideas and dynamic things if you’re interested for some reason feel free to send asks about it HEHEHEHE

#utmv #ut au #undertale #sans aus #bad sanses #undertale red #dust sans #horror sans #murder sans #dusttale #horrortale #cross and killer can be fucked up uncles #listen i have so many reasons for this being good i swear just ask #it’s not random I PROMISE SIDBDIDOFJ #i just want them to raise a kid #horrordust #or not honestly if you want #bsp would be cool even HEHEHE #i plan to draw some of these things out sometime

[notashadowbutawave]

i almost posted this on the true detective subreddit episode thread but thought better of it:

I've gotta say… I feel like a lot of complaints people are having about this season of the show don't pass muster objectively when held up against Season 1. Melodrama, "unrealistic" dialogue, complaining about being shown too much about people's personal lives and not caring about the characters…

There is so much unrealistic dialogue in season 1. The way Marty and Rust during their video interviews just come in talking about some big philosophical idea or "life wisdom" nugget in the middle of the episode (nobody talks like that IRL). The scene with Marty's daughter and the princess crown, for example. Marty cheating on his wife multiple times isn't like, objectively "more interesting" than Evangeline's sister having mental health issues or Liz being sexually promiscuous and a mess.

I've seen season 1 probably 10 times and I adore it but a lot of the angry comparisons people are making to S1 kind of just come off as straight up misogyny at a certain point. Like it rubs people the wrong way because it's women. Complaining about Liz and Evangeline going to the dredge without backup but when Rust and Captain America Marty Hart do something like that it's believable?

I don't think anyone's obligated to like the season by any means but you can just say you aren't feeling it as opposed to trying to make these apples-to-apples comparisons to season 1 that really don't hold water; I think people are just a lot more willing to accept this type of storytelling when it's about men and kind of has a fetishization/shame angle with masculinity in general. Like S1 is very masculine but it's also a love story. idk. I'm gay so I should probably stick to Tumblr for talking about this show, ya'll are wild.

----

idk watching people who are probably white dudes complain on Reddit that we are seeing too much "native culture" on the show strikes me as really icky.

i recognize that these are reddit comments and not like, actual media criticism but i think it says a lot about how people are conditioned to understand storytelling in general. like there's still so much fucking misogyny and white supremacy in our mainstream media and i realize a lot of people wouldn't say it out loud but i think they genuinely just find it exhausting that they're being asked to contemplate the interior lives of native alaskans and women by watching this show lmao

(that's not a value judgment about how well it is doing at depicting  Iñupiat culture because i'm not the person who gets to make that judgment but it REALLY rubs me the wrong way that people can't STAND even seeing it depicted)

(i think the fetishization of the American south also has a lot to do with it, like people are very willing to accept the aesthetic style of the American south as a vehicle for crime/mystery/possibly supernatural storytelling because it really doesn't challenge any conceptions they might have about the genre) (it helps that Woody Harrelson and Matthew McCounaughey are native southerners with great acting talent and natural screen chemistry who really took Season 1 to a higher level, in no small part thanks to their uncredited script doctoring. with lesser actors I think the story falls flat as hell because you need them to sell a rich relationship and complex inner lives with their performances because SO MUCH of their relationship is subtextual) (so when people see these great acting performances in the context of a police procedural set in Louisiana i think they're very pre-conditioned to elevate it to an almost mythical status in the genre because it doesn't present TOO many challenges to a conventional worldview about who has power and agency in stories)

like I said i've watched season 1 probably 10 times. it's very good. but it does MANY of the same things that people are complaining about regarding season 4/night country in terms of showing a lot of relationship/sexual drama for the leads and their Tragic Pasts. they just don't like it. which is fine. i just think it's a disingenuous angle to approach criticism of the show.

like if any actor other than McConaughey were doing Rust's monlogues in S1 it would not have been very good because it would have come off like self-serious edgelord shit, which is what it actually was (pizzolatto sucks) before it ended up in the hands of competent producers and performers. instead it really comes off like a man who has suffered and developed this worldview genuinely, within himself, not as a way to wield power over others but to protect himself from harm.

anyway....

for my part, i wanna know what the fuck is up with the spirals and the bad CGI polar bear visions and i'm going to be disappointed if it's not just some massive red herring designed to freak people out a little because that's what we deserve.

but in terms of like, the characters' lives, i generally find them very interesting. the opening scene of episode 3 with annie genuinely moved me to tears. annie seems like a fucking cool person and i would love another flashback about her.

i love that liz is a fucking asshole who is constantly being forced to confront her own behavior as racist, self-centered, impulsive, etc.

i love that evangeline is a very lonely person just barely keeping it together. kali reis is putting on an amazing performance. also, for the record, i'm VERY gay.

i wanna know more and there are only 2 episodes left and i hope it sticks the landing so i can write a big actual essay about what it did well from a storytelling perspective!

gosh i just love serialized fiction on the television

#true detective season 4 #true detective night country #night country #true detective spoilers

[joelsmochi]

Be The Boss - Javier Peña

loosely (actually extremely) inspired by the song you can be the boss by lana del rey ♡ i woke up with this idea and immediately got to writing, i love you smut sluts <3 hope you enjoy :3 this is also all lowercase ! i'm thinking of making a part 2... >:)

plot: ofc genie stumbles across javier in more places than one, and they... can't get enough of each other.

warnings: SIMP!javi, language, soulmates trope, mention of drug use, reader is a bit of a javi apologist (i meannnnn), creampie, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), some angst, mentions of death, choking, office sex, public sex, chance of getting caught, sex with other people nearby (not involved), i may have flexed the timeline of the story a bit + steve is there during the cali cartel job (just for storytelling purposes), prob typos + grammatical errors (english & spanish). lmk if i missed anything pls!!!

wc: 9.1k

⋅��₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ✮ ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

those blue jeans and that white button-up shirt had genie fanning herself since she walked into the supermarket, but what kept making it worse was that the universe seemed to be forcing the two adults into the same aisle. she’d purposefully skip an aisle she needed to go down and circle back later only to find he still spawned wherever she went.

not like she was too awfully mad though. she knew it was just a mere coincidence, or maybe he found her attractive too. maybe she was the one following him, and not the other way around. maybe she was just reading into it too much — this happens often. you know when you go grocery shopping and can’t seem to get away from another customer? maybe that’s all this was. maybe.

later that night she decided to take her friend's boyfriend’s offer up to get out and go to a bar with them, and since she was feeling a little sad that the man from the market never approached her even though she was too bashful to do it herself, she needed a pick me up. third-wheeling with her friend and her boyfriend may just be the motivation she needed to stop feeling sorry for herself.

a couple hours into the night genie was having more fun than she expected. her friend, aimee, was much more considerate than previous ones; she made sure genie felt included in the conversations and even spoiled some inside jokes just so that genie could laugh too.

playing pool, turning down pushy men for dances and drinks, and watching strangers basically have sex in the middle of the bar was more entertaining than she expected. that could just be the alcohol talking though.

she knew the universe was laughing at her, however, when the man from the market walked in with two rubios trailing behind him. genie’s eyes widened a bit, having narrowed from her tipsy state, and as if she couldn’t get more tense at that moment he made eye contact with her. she pretended to be confident about it and gave him a sweet smile while waving. he frowned for a second trying to remember where he’d seen her before.

the pretty girl in the pretty sundress from the market.

he gave genie a half smile and waved back before glancing as his shoes briefly and walking back to his friends.

“go talk to him!” aimee smacked genie’s arm over enthusiastically. “if you don’t i’m dragging him to the table.”

genie laughed knowing she is 100% serious. “i will, just let him settle in for a few minutes. can’t seem like a groupie,” genie bargained.

“who is that?” aimee’s boyfriend, cory asked while eyeing the trio from across the room.

“no idea,” she admitted, “we just kept bumping into each other at the market earlier. i think he was eyeing me, but i didn’t wanna just stare so i don’t know. seems like he recognized me though.”

“well, duh, you’re fucking hot,” aimee exaggeratedly compliments. “especially when you wear those sundresses, your ass looks so big and juicy in those i’m literally jealous.”

“please, you’re literally built like jane fonda, and everyone knows that jane fonda has the perfect ass. i’m jealous of you.”

“can we not talk about how you two basically want to fuck each other when i’m right here?” cory grimaces, but genie could see the smile creeping on his face indicating he was joking.

“awe, if i wanted her i’d have her already,” genie teased.

“she’s right,” aimee confirmed. the two best friends began laughing loudly at cory’s expense when they heard a voice from beside the table.

“perdóname.” [excuse me].

genie turned her head and met eyes with the moreno, grinning widely at his seemingly timid presence. “¿cómo puedo ayudarte?” [how can i help you]

“no tengo mucho tiempo, pero, lo quería darte esto.” he extended a cigarette out to the brunette; she admired how his harsh features softened at the sight of her for a moment, ultimately taking it from his slender fingers with a confidence that she forced yet seemed natural to everyone surrounding. [i don't have much time, but i wanted to give you this]

“gracias. acabas de llegar, ¿no?” [thank you. you just got here, no]

“claro, pero el trabajo llama.” [of course, but work calls]

genie nodded once clearly not believing him as a sly smirk tugged the corners of her lips while she fiddled with the cigarette. she turned it over quickly finding his phone number sloppily written on it. “¿trabajo, sí?” [work, huh]

“what’s he saying?” cory asked; aimee shushes him and genie ignored him, finding herself aiming to maintain the eye contact she held with the handsome stranger.

“¿llámame? salvo que no quieras.” [call me? unless you don’t want to]

“¿cómo debería llamarme?” she was poking at his boundaries which was something she found herself doing often. she loved to laugh and joke, so it was important to her to test those waters. [what should i call you]

he squints, unsure of what exactly she was asking until it dawned on him. “javier. javi.”

“javi,” she tutted after saying his name a way to tease him making him just bashfully smile. “bien. te daré una llamada, javi.” they exchange goodbyes and she turned back to her friends. [good. i’ll give you a call]

“i got javier,” the boy says, “that’s about it.”

“he just wanted me to have his number, that’s all,” genie said.

“are you about to have your first summer fling, genie?!” aimee nearly shouted in attempt to make her blush (which worked every time). “i want every juicy detail when you taint him.”

“you’re lucky i love you.”

-

genie waited a few days to give this javi a phone call. she didn’t want to seem too eager or desperate as she typically enjoyed waiting until men begged for attention.

but when she did decide to call it was like he had been posted by the phone for the last seventy-two hours because he picked up on the second ring.

“¿bueno?” [hello]

“¿javier?” she asked much more softly than she intended. unbeknownst to her the delicacy in her voice made him weak in the knees.

“sí, ¿eres la mujer del bar?” [yeah, are you the woman from the bar]

“mhm, soy yo,” she answered. she grabbed the phone from the console table and brought it around the corner to sit in her chair by her big kitchen window; the weather was perfect for her: sunny with some big clouds here and small clouds there, not too humid or dry. she just watched the leaves dancing between the wind and focused on how peaceful the world seemed from inside her temporary home. [it’s me]

“nunca supe tu nombre,” he replied while inhaling sharply as he took a hit of his cigarette, “¿cómo se llama, dulzura?” [you never told me your name / what’s your name sweetheart]

she couldn’t fight the laugh that surfaced from the base of her throat as the nickname surprised her. “¿dulzura? mmm, no me hagas colgar, javi.” [sweetheart? don’t make me hang up]

“¿qué?” he laughed along with her, “tenía que llamarte algo, ¿no?” [what? i had to call you something]

“¿me llamaste así a tus amigos?” [you called me that to your friends]

“¿no te gusta? okay, okay, veo.” [you don’t like it? i see]

“no, no es que me no guste. es simplemente… sorprendente, eso.” [no, it’s not that i don’t like it. it’s simply surprising, that’s all]

neither of them could swallow their smiles behind their receivers. they talked for hours, and she still managed to keep her name a secret for the time being. he quickly got in the habit of calling her dulzura and it grew on her just as fast. the way spanish flowed off of his tongue made her cave deeper and deeper into her chair, having to “readjust” her legs a few times to resist her urges to tell him how sexy his was.

“javier…”

his throat was straining from all the talking and laughing they were doing but he ignored it by inhaling cigarette after cigarette. “¿sí, mama?” he cooed quietly.

the way the new little nickname from his lips gave her goose skin and a flushed face, and she was thankful he wasn’t in front of her in that moment because she just might have giving up on her wait and see rule.

“tengo que ir, tengo que ayudar a mi amiga mañana. pero… fue encantador hablar contigo.” [i have to go, i have to help my friend in tomorrow. but it was lovely talking with you]

“yo veo. voy a despertarme temprano mañana también. una cosas más.” [i see. i gotta get up early tomorrow as well. one more thing]

she giggled, somehow already knowing what he was going to ask about. “me llama genie.” [my name is genie]

“genie… ya has hecho realidad mi deseo, dulzura,” he flirted. [you’ve already made my wish come true, sweetheart]

“obtienes dos más, cariño,” she teased. it wasn’t the first time someone used her name as punchline in attempt to flirt with her, and it sounded just as corny coming from javi. the only difference was that she liked it coming from him because he wasn’t trying to hide how bad the joke was, whereas most men try to make it sound original as if they’re fucking poetic legends. javi knew he made stupid jokes and didn’t shy away from it. he didn’t try to put on some stupid façade (at least not with her). [you have two more, love]

“¿dos deseos más? debe ser mi día de suerte.” [two more wishes? it must be my lucky day]

genie gave him a sweet giggle, whispering, “hasta luego, javi.” [later]

“buenas noches, genie.” [good night]

-

it was like night and day, her first impression of javier was that he was just some man trying to find his way in life, in colombia. she got a real glimpse of him tonight: they got to the bar about an hour ago, and to the other men nearby it was like javier wasn’t even there. they’d stroll up to the table and flirt, hard.

she was trying to be polite and avoid a scene by saying thank you, but i’m not interested or i’m here on a date with this gentleman, but there are other pretty girls around who i’m sure are single.

after the fourth guy, though, javi became noticeably irritable, and well… lost his temper at the fifth guy. genie told herself that they were lucky to not get kicked out after javi’s already bruised fist knocked the other man flat on his skinny ass, but it shook her a bit. a man so sweet and so kind to her yet so violent with others. as fucked up as it was she found it a bit of a turn on, but couldn’t help but wonder if maybe one day he’d lose his temper with her.

all her worries swam away when he sat back down and apologized, a look of pure embarrassment pooling his eyes.

“sorry, i don’t know what took over me,” he whispered, “if you want to go home that’s perfectly fine—“

“javi,” she cooed, “you’re fine.” and she meant it. she not only saw his resentfulness, she felt it radiating off of him. she didn’t want the night to be spoiled by some fuckers who lacked respect. “honestly if every girl was coming up here asking you for a buck and a blowjob i’d probably punch one of them too. no, i would do it.”

“you’re not mad?”

she scrunched her face up and grabbed her drink, raising it to her lips and sipping before she said, “fuck no. well, not at you. it’s not like this is our first real date, anyways. the real one will come soon, i hope.” she gave him a tight smile that showed off parts of her teeth showing javi that she was hopeful and willing to try again. “ugh, i hate saying that.”

“what?” he took a swig of his whiskey.

“‘it’s not our real first date.’ god, that just sounds like i’m crapping on this.”

“no it doesn’t. that’s what we said this was, right? not a first date? just two new friends hanging out?”

she snickered at him. “uh-huh, do two friends just hanging out get jealous and possessive over each other?”

he rolled his eyes wonderingly and bit back a smile. “you know what i mean.”

“sureee i do… then you won’t mind if i go out there and dance, hmm?” she pointed behind herself with her thumb. she wanted to toy with him a little to see what kind of man he was so that she knew how to navigate him.

she only received a squinting glare in response as he asked her to elaborate with his eyes, so she ever so slightly rose up from her chair to lean over the table. his face relaxed at her close proximity, maintaining eye contact with the vixen before him.

“for other guys? since we’re just friends right now, that won’t bug you, right?” she gave him no time to respond as she gave him a kiss so endearing that it swept his mind clear of any thoughts that didn’t include her. she almost moaned at the lingering taste of whiskey and cigarettes on his lips, craving him even more now. the kiss felt like an escape from all of her troubles. she only needed this moment of control and then he could have the rest of her — something she’d never give to anyone else. the kiss was over before it even began, and he found himself simpering for her. “can i go dance for other guys, javier?”

he could only nod like a coward.

javi watched how her thighs glowed underneath the yellow lights as she danced shamelessly in the bar they first met in. he couldn’t take his eyes off of her in the white sundress with her blow dried hair flowing around her shoulders and cheekbones. she wasn’t drunk, no, not even tipsy so he knew that she was just a free spirit with the way she was acting, she spoke her mind and let her body express itself uncaring of the other people in the bar that stared.

he liked the fact that other men were staring at her because even though she was dancing where everyone could watch, she was only dancing for javi to see. he also enjoyed it when a man would approach her and she would just dance her body away from them as it confirmed her growing loyalty to him.

sure she’d forgiven his lack of self control earlier, but now he knows that he doesn’t need to act out to get her attention because he already has it. he didn’t quite understand what was so intriguing about genie, but he wanted to explore her depths (and not just in a sexual way).

he stood up to strut over to her after drinking the rest of his whiskey; he clasped his arms around her waist from behind and took in a deep breathe of her sweet perfume which contrasted the woodsy perfume he noticed her wearing when he gave her his number. he planted a needy but light kiss on the curve where her neck met her shoulder, pressing his hips into her butt firmly before swaying and bouncing with her to the upbeat song.

“people are staring at you, dulzura,” he whispered huskily onto her ear lobe. “these men think you’re single. can’t have that.”

she couldn’t help the cocky grin that spread across her face. “i saw the way you were looking around the room, smiling like you own the place…” she turned around in his tight grasp staring into his territorial eyes with an innocent, but knowing look. “like you own me.”

“i don’t own you, darlin’,” he says monotonously, not even the slightest hint of humor behind his tone, “but i do control you. at least for the night.”

“you can be the boss, daddy.”

she watched the surprise waiver his once stern expression and rather than playing her usual confident self she couldn’t ignore what he said.

i do control you.

she wanted to let him take the reigns on this one and see what javier peña was all about. after all, wait and see was far out of the window at this point.

she just pouts with her eyes and brows and folds her lips between her teeth like she had no idea the effect she had on him. she felt his warm hand slide down to the small of her back, gripping into the clothed skin desperately while he hissed at her facial expression and her dumb eyelashes batting up at him.

she filled him with what felt like so much destitution it was beginning to irritate him. the wanting to take it slow. the giggles and smiles. the dresses—god, he just craved fucking her in that little white sundress. how so much woman fit into one person was beyond him, but he looked at her like she was god created just for him.

yeah… waiting wasn’t happening.

the two of them ran out to his car like a pair of schoolchildren, and javi almost hit other cars or pedestrians at least twice on the way back to his apartment. she just laughed and told him to slow down, the few shots of dark liquor she had getting to her carefulness a bit.

next thing they knew they were naked on the couch, just kissing. that’s all they needed to do. just feel each other’s impure warmth. their lips were far beyond numb but they still went at it. she clung to him like wet on water, and he held her close with his sturdy forearms atop his lap while she rocked her hips occasionally. she poured every moan into his salivating mouth and he swallowed them with pride.

they were in no rush to have sex, they just wanted to need each other for a little bit. their craving for each other exceeded physical intimacy and stretched into every curve of their being as they wept onto each other. she giggled every time she felt more of her juiced pool onto his erection that was nestled between her legs and curved up to her ass. he loved her moans and her giggles and her smiles so much that he found himself smiling with her more than he had with his recent partners.

“javi?” she asked softly after finally pulling away from their hour-long kiss. he hummed and looked at her through his low eyelashes, seemingly drunk off of her kisses. “¿crees que podemos esperar un poco más?” [do you think we can wait a little longer]

he frowned, feeling a tad offended that she seemed a little scared to ask him that. “sí, dulzura. no tienes que preguntar.” he pinched her chin lightly and dragged his fingers around her soft face. [you don’t have to ask]

“no quería asumir.” [i don’t want to assume]

he offered her a loving smile and brought one of her hands up to his lips. “yo puedo esperar, mama.” [i can wait]

she blushed at the compassionate stare he was giving her and rewarded him with a tender kiss on his lips and another one to his forehead. “¿tienes agua?” [do you have water]

“mm-hmm. solo agua de la llave.” [only tap]

she carefully stood up from his thighs and stepped from between his legs to the kitchen. “no soy exigente.” she took it upon herself to grab a couple of glasses from his cabinet and them up up halfway with lukewarm water before she peered her head to her right to find a ring sitting in a small bowl nearby. “javier?” she called, unable to take her eyes off of the jewelry. he hummed and she heard as he stood up from the couch and walked towards her. “are you married?” she asked, finally breaking her stare from the ring and looked at him. [i’m not picky]

he eyebrows knitted together and he gave her a dumbfounded look. “no, why?”

“who’s ring is that then?”

he followed her pointed thumb with his eyes and saw how the ring was perched on top of the junk bowl like a trophy. “shit,” he whispered, glancing at his floor bashfully. “uh, no, genie i am not married. i was engaged, but, i left her… the day of the wedding.”

she couldn’t tell why, but she grew worried. “why?”

shrugging, he couldn’t come up with an answer. “i’m still trying to figure that out myself… i guess i kept the ring hoping it’d give me answer,” he laughed incredulously at his confession. “that was definitely not how i wanted you to find out.”

she nodded and a sense of relief came to calm her down. “i run all the time too,” she replied, waiting a moment before holding out the glass for him to take. he found solace in her words even though he didn’t fully understand it yet. he took a lame sip of his water and set it down on the counter before closing the gap between their still feverish bodies. “we don’t need to talk about it.” her tone was so serious but her smile was playful. “we can just make out for another hour or something.”

they laughed at her suggestion, but just as javi was leaning into kiss her as an acceptance his phone rang. he rolled his eyes and groaned before walking over to answer it. genie didn’t want to eavesdrop so she just strolled over to steal a cigarette from him and walked to his bedroom to blow her smoke out of his screen-less window whilst she looked over the other apartments and the streets. she heard a few gunshots far away and poked her nosy head out to see if she saw something, and when she didn’t she just kept looking around quickly forgetting about it.

it is colombia after all.

she was almost done with her cigarette when javi made an appearance next to her also holding a cigarette.

“everything okay?” she asked, glancing up at him. he nodded and grinned down at her nipples perking up from the cool breeze. “take a picture, perv,” she teased once she realized he was staring, then kicked his calf gently.

“maybe i will, smartass.”

she shook her head and laughed indulgently as he pointed his polaroid up to her naked body that was being illuminated by the orange street lights. he laid the photo on his dresser before hugging her from behind like earlier, and he swayed their nude bodies to music that was heard playing from another house in the distance. she hummed and tossed her cigarette outside before stealing his right off of his pouted lips; he took the liberty of his mouth as opportunity to kiss her shoulders.

she wanted him so badly, but she knew it was just her wound of impatience waiting to be peeled open again. she wasn’t afraid of giving in to him. she was afraid of giving in to herself. javier didn’t make it easy at all, and he saw it, but he just couldn’t help himself.

“mi dulzura…” he breathed onto her hot flesh, trailing his lower lip up to her ear and smacking a kiss on it while his hand found the base of her stomach. she felt herself clench around nothing and moved his hand down to her clit before she could stop herself. he wanted nothing more than to make her feel good and she just gave him permission for that in some aspect. “tu coño todavía está tan mojada… tengo suerte, ¿no?” he rubbed tiny little circles around her clit the same way she would when she’d touch herself. [your pussy is still so wet. i’m lucky, huh]

“alguien podría vernos.” she worried like she wasn’t the one to initiate it. [someone could see us]

he waited a moment to respond. “que nos vean.” [so let them see]

she gave in and let him please her for the whole world to see. the pads of his fingers felt like heaven on her heat as she let go of the fear of getting caught; she leaned her head back onto his shoulder and closed her heavy eyes.

javier wanted to felt her tremble in his arms and hear her call his name. he needed to give her a reason to come back and he knew he could do that with his fingers alone. just like he said: he could wait. and he would wait for her. she was gentle and kind but fearless at the same time. he thought it was sexy the way she never cared what anyone thought of her (anyone she wasn’t familiar with anyways).

“¿te gusta?” [you like that]

she simply nodded rapidly as her chest heaved, her mind straying from reality as she sank deeper into the trap he laid with his fingers. her eyes flew open, however when she heard a group of people walking nearby. “javi,” she panicked, “deberíamos mover—“ [we should move—]

“shut up,” he whispered in her ear through gritted teeth while simultaneously wrapping his free hand around her elongated neck, “tengo esto.” [i got this]

genie moaned louder than she realized and allowed herself to no longer care after javi made his demands. if the people wanted a show then they were going to get it. “claro, después de todo… eres el jefe, papi.” [sure, after all, you’re the boss daddy]

-

weeks of harmony went by, and even the bad moments weren’t so bad. sometimes javier would meet genie after a shit day at work and wouldn’t be in the mood for company, but he didn’t want to push her away because of it. he still wanted her near and she saw that despite feeling like sometimes she had to walk on eggshells around him on his moody nights. she didn’t mind it too much, it was more of her still trying to learn how to read him which came with some difficulty.

he knew that when they went almost a week without seeing other and constantly missing each other’s phone calls that he was falling hard from how much he missed hearing her voice. genie filled her free time with her friends and gardening but her mind always trailed back to javi.

they’re schedules finally aligned on a tuesday; javi got the day off and wanted genie to meet his partner steve so she took it upon herself to have them over for dinner along with aimee.

“hi, i’m genie,” she introduced excitedly as she shook the man’s hand before inviting them in.

“hey, i’m steve. sorry my wife couldn’t be here tonight,” he said.

genie just waved him off. “oh, don’t worry about it. i’ll make some extra for her if that’s alright?”

“sure, thank you.”

“my friend aimee is here in the other room, feel free to make yourself at home. dinner should be ready in about an hour.” he excused himself and genie turned to javi and immediately gave him a sultry kiss. “mm, i missed you.”

he chuckled and wiped the corner of his mouth before giving her a hug. “i missed you too. how ya doing?”

“better now,” she whispered. “come help me in the kitchen?”

“not sure i can be much help.” he watched her hips bounce back and forth as she led him to her kitchen. “you have a nice home,” he commented; he walked behind her and enveloped her body into a warm hug as she stirred the sauce in her pot.

“thank you.” he gave her neck a few kisses, placed his fingers on her chin to turn her head toward him, and pecked her lips a few times. she blushed and focused on her cooking again, but javi wanted to play with her again as it had been too long since the last time he’d heard her delicious moans. “javier,” she hissed and he just slid his large hands into her tight jeans. “javi,” she laughed, “we are not having a repeat of last time.”

“you’re right, this time we’re not doing it in a window, we’re in your kitchen,” he teased after his fingers found her wetness and dove into it.

she exhaled softly and felt her nipples harden against the fabric of her shirt. “i don’t wanna mess up dinner.”

“focus on dinner then, baby, don’t think about me,” his voiced strained. she nearly laughed again but couldn’t because a moan nearly surfaced. she brought a bowl of diced onions over the pot and let them fall in as an attempt to distract herself. “i’m sure dinner will be lovely, dulzura.” his breath hitched up against her ear when he felt her clench around his fingers. “what are you making?”

“lasagna.”

“it smells good.”

“thank you—oh.” she accidentally smacked the spoon on the counter and sauce flew specks around the wall and stove. “shit!” she reached for a towel and immediately bent forward to wipe the mess up, but she only applied more pressure between her sex and his digits. he took the liberty to ram his fingers as fast as the angle would allow which had her struggling to stand straight, but she continued cleaning her mess up—well, her javi-induced mess. once she was done she put the lid on the pot and told him that she was close.

“already? seems like you needed this more than me. is that right?”

“yes,” she huffed, gripping the ledges of the countertop. “right there.”

“you’re doing so good keeping quiet.”

“me corro, me corro!” she breathed out. she swallowed every other noise that tried to leave her fragile body while her orgasm took over. it was strong and overpowering almost, unlike most of her orgasms that were slow and drawn out. she felt every bit of her climax in the span of just a few seconds but it was well worth it. [i’m cumming]

javi eased up on her fairly quickly and freed his hand, careful to not get any of her cum on her clothes. she tried to steady her body while she resumed dinner and he washed his hands before helping her trembling hands with the heavy pot. they didn’t say anything but they could not stop giggling.

“are you guys stoned or something?” aimee asked spooking the couple.

“we’re literally dea agents,” steve retorted as he stood next to her.

“eh,” genie edged receiving a warning look from javi. “are you?”

“genie,” javi hissed.

“don’t worry, i won’t tell steve about the time you and i got high before watching star wars.”

“really peña?” steve questioned accusingly.

javi gave genie’s ass a light smack, but he knew steve would ultimately forget about it so he just went back to watching genie cook.

the night went by slow which made genie happy. she got to bond with steve and aimee got to bond with javi. it was like the formation of a new, happier, stronger family for genie and she hoped everyone else felt the same way. aimee and steve teased the other two about how smitten they were being all night and how cute it was to see the love they have for each other growing. they all got a little tipsy from whiskey and wine which caused the formation of a brother-sister relationship with steve and aimee — one that javi and genie found adorable, especially with the way they bullied each other for their music tastes and political views in a chaste way.

when the night was closing in steve and aimee made their exits to their significant others and homes, and aimee naturally made the comment, “don’t be too loud now,” more than once.

as soon as they were alone, genie and javi made their debut to her room for pillow talk and cuddles having gotten their release of sexual tension out earlier.

“do you think they heard me?” genie worriedly asked.

“i think we’d know if aimee heard us,” javi quip, snickering as he did so.

“good point.”

genie admired all of his facial features which made him smile keenly. he was handsome, smart, romantic, and caring, but he was also daunting and reserved for everyone but her. she wouldn’t dare resist love from someone so sweet after she experienced a life in the absence of love. javier gave her all the smiles she needed for one lifetime already, but his desire to keep that smile on her face earned him a special place in her fragmented heart because he was making it whole again.

“do you want to keep seeing me? i’m just checking in, making sure we’re all good.” javi’s insecure tone put a frown on her face.

“i do. i like you.”

he blushed and crawled on top of her. “yeah? you like me?”

“yeah i like you a lot, papito. te quiero mucho, papito.”

he closed the space between their lips and he snaked his arms around her back. he felt closer than before to the woman below him because she forgave his sins faster than he did himself. he didn’t know what he did to get this lucky, but he refused to question one of the only good things in his life.

“te quiero, genie,” he whispered, nuzzling his nose along hers.

“me encanta la forma en que dices mi nombre… y la forma en que me besas… la forma en que me tocas. me gustas mucho, javi, no sé lo que haría sin ti.” [i love the way you say my name… and the way you kiss me… the way you touch me. i like you a lot, javi, i don’t know what i’d do without you]

-

days later javier ended up getting sent home for playing with the enemy, and it left genie in a state of uncertainty. part of her blamed him for the new distance placed between them but she also knew she didn’t understand everything nor did she want to. in this case ignorance was bliss for her.

they set time aside every couple of weeks to keep up with each other for phone calls and she even began considering moving back to the states to be with him, but her loyalty to beth always pushed those thoughts aside. he worried about genie often because her mental health seemed to decline with how much more she was taking care of the sick woman. he’d never ask her to stop knowing he’d do the same for his own family, but once he got put on the case for the cali cartel he knew him being there would put her in good spirits. at least he hoped so.

it had been nearly a year since they’d last seen each other and he wanted it to be a surprise. from what steve had told him she never really moved on despite javi telling her it was okay and that staying friends was best for them for the time being. it angered her how easy he seemed to want to give up, but this wasn’t a fairytale and she knew that it may have very well been years until she was able to see him again so she understood.

genie became more reclusive, only ever seeing her few friends in the foreign state. she and aimee lacked the mental drive to go out and party like they did in the earlier stages of their arrival so beth, steve, connie, and cory were the only other people they spent time with.

javi knocked on her door and as he stood there waiting for an answer he drummed his fingers over his clad thighs. would she look different? would someone else answer the door? would she not want to see him right now? all these thoughts that ran through his head a million miles per hour vanished when he saw that pretty sundress appear before him.

“javier?” she asked softly as if he were unrecognizable.

“it’s me,“ he whispered hoarsely. her beauty sucked all of the air out of him and his body turned to mush when she collided into his broad frame. “it’s me.” he clung to her and breathed her in like she was a wasting memory.

“¡te extrañé, javi! te extrañé mucho.” [i missed you]

“también te extrañé, dulzura,” he whispered into her hair. “i came to surprise you.” [i missed you too]

“come in,” she urged. she ran upstairs to her bedroom and practically dragged him with her. “i need you,” she told him breathlessly. “can i have you?” he simply pressed his soft lips to hers as permission; they ripped their clothes off of each other and she laid him on her bed. just then everything fell back into place.

all of the midday to midnight conversations they had developed meaning. there was no doubt in her mind that her waiting wasn’t pointless or a waste of time. it meant something to the both of them and they wanted to permeate it.

she reached between their bodies and gave his already hard cock a few slow strokes to build up the anticipation. “are you mine?” she asked, a hint of possession in her eyes.

he felt like his soul mended to the shape of hers, her spirit captivating every corner of his mind. he nodded helplessly. “yes,” he moaned with his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“were you loyal to me?” she teased her entrance with his tip, sliding it in slowly.

“yes, i was l—loyal to you.” he couldn’t stop gasping; just the feeling of her slick walls around the first inch of him had him on edge. “i promise.” just then she sunk onto him without further question and felt her wetness pool around him as he stretched her out. they let out sweet moans for each other and began kissing as she bounced on him. “fuck, ya vas a hacer que me corra.” [you’re going to make me cum (already)]

she giggled, lifted herself up, then put her hands on his stomach for better balance. “dame tu leche, papi.” [give me your cum]

he threw his head back while cursing loudly, giving her plump ass a tight squeeze and refusing to let go. “necesito que me des tu leche lindo primero.” [i need you to give me your pretty cum first]

genie groaned and pinched her nipple lightly, feeling the sensitivity spiral down to her pussy. “ven aquí.” he sat up and ran his warm hands over the goosebumps on her back. “lamer mis pezones.” [come here / lick my nipples]

“yeah?” he licked a teasing strip up one of her nipples, giving her puppy dog eyes. “¿quieres que te me lama los pezones?” she hummed at his question and fluttered her eyes shut when he began sucking one and used his thumb to rub circles on the other one, his mustache grazing her skin adding to the pleasure. she continued her rhythm on top of him while he kept her steady. he felt his eyes light up at the sight of her. sweaty, eager, desperate. he knew that he never wanted to feel anyone else do this for him, and no one could make him feel nearly as good. he had to let his mind wander from time to time because of how close he was getting to cumming inside of her. he didn’t want this to end so soon. he wanted this to be the memory she touched herself to whenever he couldn’t be around. he needed the feeling of his thick cock stretching and pleasing her slick cunt to be engraved so deeply into her mind that the thought of it alone would make her cum on her own fingers. “eres tan jodidamente perfecta, mama. so fucking perfect.” [you want me to lick your nipples / you’re so fucking perfect]

she loved the way he cowered his face into her chest as a way to feel more of her and the way he kissed up her sternum until his lips met hers. he cradled her in his arms so that he could switch their positions wanting to see how good he could make her feel. he freed her face of loose hair strands and gave her tiny kisses while he started slowly inside of her, not fully inserting himself in while doing so. genie loved everything about this moment.

javi with messy hair.

how sheen and warm their bodies were from sex and not the humidity.

the cool breeze that often snuck in through the open windows.

javi worshiping her body.

how pretty her body looked under the sun.

how careful and attentive he was with her.

their heavy breathing

and moans

and pants

and whimpers.

javi knew he couldn’t hold back much longer so he pulled out to bury his face between her thighs. she let out an ungodly sound as he opened his mouth as wide as possible and sucked up everything. she clawed at his scalp with her back arching off the bed not able to form any words at the sudden sensation.

he slurped as he closed his mouth and flattened his tongue on her throbbing clit, roughly shaking his head side to side tickling the skin around her clit with his facial hair (and it drove her insane). she tried to squeeze her shaky thighs around his head but his sturdy arms wouldn’t allow that. she cried out his name and let the vibrant and warm and forceful feeling take over he flailing body. her body shook so hard the bed creaked with the headboard smacking the wall a few times. she had no time to recover when he filled her up with his throbbing length and continued her orgasm by rubbing his fingers around her wet clit.

“hazte correrme otra vez,” she pleaded. he rammed into her and held her legs up while she perched on her elbows. [make me cum again]

“¿quieres otra más? hmm,” he grunted. [you want to cum again]

“yes, fuck—fuck. you’re gonna make me cum again!” he rested on top of her, laying her flat down again. he fondled her breast briefly but moved his hand up to her cheek to caress it. “can you cum with me?” she asked; his eyelids battered down and he nodded. she felt his body jerk and she grinned at his flushed face. “¿tú estás corriendo?” [are you cumming]

“mm. mm-hmm,” he moaned, “solamente para ti.” she felt her mouth go dry and his thrusts lose a steady rhythm. his hips dug into her thighs and his cock pulsed when her pussy began convulsing against him. [just for you]

she pouted up at him when he pressed their foreheads together and felt dizzy until that one second of pure stillness carried her body up and back down to reality again. she forced her heavy eyelids open to see him in her most vulnerable state of mind as a way to let him know he had her always and forever. she held onto him tightly, letting out whimpers of overstimulation that turned into exaggerated moans when she couldn’t hold onto the feeling anymore. he got there not too long after, but instead his focus sharpened on her rather than hazed; he thrusted sloppily into her exhausted body and gave her body every last drop of cum he had saved up for her.

their breathing synchronized as they just laid together; he made sure she felt loved when he pressed a few plump kisses over her face, feeling his heart punch against his ribs every time she cooed at his lips on her damp skin.

he carried her to the bathroom so that they could shower together and they didn’t even realize neither of them said anything for the next half hour until they climbed back in bed.

“doing alright?” he asked her as he lit her cigarette up.

she smiled with her eyes and nodded, pressing her back to her headboard. “you?”

“yeah… honestly thought i was gonna have to put up more of a fight to get in bed with you,” he teased. she nudged his foot with hers and laughed. “i came back for you,” he said once the mood shifted.

“i thought about leaving beth and going to you.”

“i know. steve told me,” he admitted. “i wouldn’t want you to do that. sounds like she needs you and aimee more than ever right now.”

“yeah.”

“hey.” he held her chin then gave her a kiss. “i’m here now.” he wiped a tear that fell onto her cheek and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “i’m here now.”

-

“you’re being so fucking loud right now, shut up,” genie scolded. she covered his mouth with her left hand and choked him with the other. he shook his head in protest but gave up when she resumed riding him in the office chair. he tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled even harder as he shot his release inside of her. she finished him off and they had a brief make out session before he tapped her hip.

“how much time we got?” he asked before pulling his pants up and fixing his shirt.

“uh… ten minutes."

“i bet i can make you cum in five,” he challenged.

her eyes widened and she pressed a hand to his chest. “that is a dangerous game you’re trying to play.”

“come on, can’t you make me feel like the boss here for a few minutes?”

his smile won her over and he received the biggest ego boost when she lifted the skirt to her dress. “five minutes.”

he got down on his knees and smirked at her paranoid expression. “an orgasm per minute?”

“shut up.” she pushed his face into her slippery heat, mewling at the curl of his wide fingers and flick of his thirsty tongue. “move to the left… right there.” she held his face in position and watched his tongue work miracles along her clit. the squelching of her discharge mixed with his semen around his fingers was louder than she expected, and she worried about people walking by hearing them.

javi knew how to work the divots and curves of her more than she wanted to give him credit for, and knowing how crunched they were on time he focused on the spongy hill that’d get her to her climax fast especially when combined with tongue despite how badly wanted to taste for hours.

she didn’t warn him or let out any noise other than a few deep breaths, but he could tell by the way her hips jerked on his face and the locking of her knees that she was already cumming. seconds later he felt all he had given her pool around the base of his knuckles. after removing his fingers he licked her and his fingers clean before helping fix her dress.

“come on, we’ll make out in the parking lot,” he whispered to her with that everlasting smirk that she pretended to hate.

“i am never doing that again, that was too close,” she told him once they made it to her car.

“you loved it,” he said confidently. “come ‘er.” his face carried the scent of her and it made her feel good knowing that he’d have to walk around like that for the rest of the day. they kiss until another officer makes fun of javi for becoming a one-woman man to which he just waved off. “ignore them,” he chuckled dryly. “admit that you loved it.“

genie rolled her eyes and a smile crept on her face. “you’re wrong,” she said tugging at his shirt and pulling him in, “but you’re so much fun.”

they kissed once more before saying their goodbye’s and parting ways. when javier made it back to his desk steve could tell he seemed much happier than he was an hour ago.

“fuck are you grinning for?” steve interrogated. the brunette gave him a noticeably fake look of surprise. “what? did you have genie come up here and give you a blowie?” steve huffed and leaned forward when javi’s face went pale. “dude! i was joking!” he whispered harshly.

“do not tell anyone else.”

steve muttered something under his breath but then looked back at his partner through his eyebrows. “where’d you do it?”

he smirked, leaning forward on his elbows. “go big or go home, right?”

“oh-ho-ho!” steve laughed proudly. “you dirty son of a bitch.”

-

“how you holding up?”

genie gave him an endearing look and said, “i’m alright. i miss her a lot already, i’m just glad i got to be with her in her final moments.” he nodded slowly at her answer, watching her pick the strawberries from her garden as they sat together in the grass. “how are you doing? you know with work?”

“i’m managing.”

she rolled her eyes from him back to the garden. “don’t do that.”

“do what?”

“i’m managing,” she mocked in a peculiar tone. “you can talk about it.”

“i don’t want you to feel like i’m ignoring your feelings, though.”

she glared at him and adjusted her posture. “i’m sad, not broken. plus, i asked because i care about you. we’re not just flirting anymore, javi. i thought this was becoming something.”

“this is something.”

“okay so fucking talk to me. don’t tiptoe around me and give me two word responses because i lost beth a couple weeks ago. you don’t have to tell me what’s going on, but you’re not just managing. i wanna know what goes through your head.”

javi sighed and rubbed her back as she got back to work. “you’re right.”

“i know.”

he rolled his eyes but still gave the back of her head a kiss. “i’m thinking of retiring after cali’s done.”

“oh yeah? why’s that?”

she already knew why. the late nights, the constant losses, everyone dying… she saw how he clung to her metaphorically because she was the only stability he got to have every week but he tried hard to not become dependent on her. she appreciated his consideration, but it led to him being unable to vocalize his emotions which made her feel like there was an unnecessary barrier between them.

“can’t do it anymore. i want you to come back to texas with me when it’s done… if that’s something you want.”

she snorted and gave him a raised eyebrow. “you haven’t even told me you love me yet and you want me to move with you?” she was joking, but he noticed how her eyes bored into his as if she was waiting for him to say it.

he thought it over every time he was away from her — was genie just an impulse for him? just another woman? and every time he questioned it his heart screamed no. she could be bratty, lord knows, but she wasn’t complicated. she was sweet and so full of life that she gave some to him and it made him feel warm inside again. she loved all things and all people, she never judged yet she always stood her ground. she could be needy at times when he wasn’t in the mood for attentiveness but she always waited. he didn’t want to keep her waiting any longer.

“i do love you,” he responded nonchalantly, a frown reaching his brows.

she sat her basket down and turned to face him. “you’re just saying that.”

“no i’m not.” her smile faded momentarily, but came back even bigger; he held her face gently and kissed her blushing nose. “genie, mi amor, te amo tanto te esperaría por siempre. i loved you before i even knew who you were.”

“oh,” she pouted, “you break my heart.” she kissed him and sat on top of his lap whilst reaching for his belt buckle to undo it.

"mm, lemme take you inside," he mumbled against her shiny lips.

"right here," she begged quietly; she pulled her sundress over her head which made javi's eyes touch the back of his skull when he noticed she had no panties on. she didn't bother ridding him of his tight jeans. she just pulled out his velvety cock and teased it along her opening, waiting until he was fully hard to sink onto him. she rested her weight on top of him after he opened the rest of the buttons on his shirt, pressing her lips to his. "tell me again," she demanded. she wasted no time to rock her hips at a quick and eager pace as she lusted after the feeling of his cum painting her wet, rubbery walls.

"i love you." he twitched and moaned weakly beneath her, her movements sending shocks and tickles up his spine. he repeated it more than a dozen times like a broken record and boy was the noise music to her ears.

she whimpered against his neck and her hips chased his orgasm more than hers before she whispered, "i love you," back to him. "i love you, i love you, oh, i lo-love you!" she shouted without a care in the world and watched him through weighted eyes. he held her hips in place and fucked her back, ignoring the strain in his thighs from the fabric restricting his range of motion. "i love you, i love the way you fuck me!"

"you take it so good, dulzura." he pinched her cheeks between his palm and fingers causing him to lose his leverage inside of her, however it didn't stop him. he loved seeing how weak he made her: the way she just molded into him no matter how far he'd bent her or throw her around. he loved how red her face got when he squished it in his brawny hands. "that feel good?"

she nodded shyly in his grip. "yes, everything you do f-feels so fucking good."

"good," he boasted, "you're such a good girl for me, hmm... i love you."

"i'll always be a good girl for you," she told him; he felt his steady pace lose its rhythm and his cock twitched so hard and deep inside of her it felt like his skin had meshed with hers. "i'll always be a good girl for you because you're the boss of me."

fuck. he couldn't stop the arrival of his climax at her sinful confession, his cum pouring out of him seconds later with his head digging into the ground beneath him while he silently cursed at himself for cumming so easily. she liked it though and felt comfortable with leaving it off here. she knew he'd make it up to her later in whatever way she wanted. he asked to stay inside of her for just a little longer so that he could savor the moment and she happily obliged. she helped him escape his nerve-racking high by combing her hands through his hair and a firm kiss.

"my god..." his breathing jagged and his arm trembled around her bare waist. "you're gonna be the death of me one day."

"hmm, that's my job." she put her dress back on to sit next to him lazily pulling his jeans up over his slippery length. "you mean it? wanting me to come back with you to texas?"

he laid his head on her thigh after lighting a cigarette and fiddled with her hand. "course i am. i'll buy us a big farmhouse, and you can raise horses, goats, and shit. whatever you want. i'll make you tea every morning and rub your back when you wake up. we can go for walks and watch the sunset... whatever you want. that’s my second wish.”

"you are gonna be setting feminism back a few years if you keep sweet-talking me," she bantered. they shared a few laughs and smoked in silence for a while before he told her it doesn't have to be that. "mi amor... i'll follow you wherever you go. like i always say… you can be the boss."

"you gotta stop saying that. it makes my dick hard every time."

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #narcos #javier peña narcos #javier peña #javier pena smut #javier pena #javier pena x ofc #javier peña smut #javier pena imagine #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal is daddy

[kaftan]

Some Notes on Arcs 18-20

(Long post! Here there be ramblings! Sorry)

- I forgot this was an arc 18 moment till I checked — Taylor feeling seduced (her words) by Dinah’s power, longing to hold on to her despite her mission being to free her… goosebumps. I love how the villains she hates rub off on her, worm (ha) into her.

- And then describing the act of returning her to her home as throwing away a resource… something that felt dumb to do… being proven right, in a sense, in arc 20, when it comes back to bite her… I’m reminded of some dialogue from animorphs that I’ll have to paraphrase, something about how what matters isn’t what’s right or wrong, it’s what’s expedient. Taylor isn’t all the way there yet, but feels like a matter of time.

- More on Taylor and morality: it’s fascinating to see her go through the same rough trajectory for every major battle — she starts from her baseline, being disturbed at the notion of seriously hurting or killing anyone, slowly numbs that sentiment with plenty of half-hearted strands of reasoning, eventually escalates to the point of cold-blooded violence or the enablement of such… and feels nothing. “Dissociation as an integral aspect of being” moment!

- I love Jessica Yamada. Not enough to read Ward, I have my limits. Getting a better perspective on the “all Amy’s horses and all Amy’s men couldn’t put Victoria back together again” situation was a treat. I love the horror elements in Worm. I love the horror of having the face of your trauma etched into the folds of your brain.

- Met Sveta! People on tumblr namedrop her a lot, to the point where I wondered if she’d been introduced before and I forgot. She’s a darling.

- Lily’s meltdown about Skitter… you can’t even look straight at her without feeling your skin crawl ❤️ but she sounds idealistic and naive even with cockroaches and bees crawling over her face ❤️ she starts making sense ❤️

- [Trickster voice] my beautiful gamer princess with a disorder… talk to me…

- This quote here:

“I mentioned it in passing to Miss Militia,” I said, “Better that you tell the truth and say we pushed hard for it. Blame me.”

“No,” Regent said, “Blame me.”

I shot him a look, and he shrugged. “Just wanted to get in on the fun,” he said.

says so much about Alec, lmao. It flagged in my brain because it’s the second time I’ve consciously noted it: his jokes about wanting to be included speak volumes. The truth he does not dare to know, etc etc

- Taylor “we cannot rule out human sacrifice” Hebert

- Marissa: She’s my friend. / Taylor: Was. It’s a big difference. Fast forward: Emma interlude, crossing paths at Arcadia. I love storytelling.

- Speaking of the Emma interlude: reading about Taylor’s bullying always makes me feel queasy; this was bone nausea on a deep level. What happened to Taylor is like if your worst fears about other people came true. You know, the nagging worry that you’re a burden, that a late text means I don’t want to be your friend. The worry that any reasonable person will tell you to ignore. How the fuck do you come back from living that nightmare?

Reminds me of Amy, how what happened to her is like if your worst fears about yourself came true.

- Everyone always talks about Taylor’s repressed rage but holy shit her repressed rage. What a character. What a character. I love her fantasies of violence. I love how much she basks in that meager catharsis.

- There’s something beautiful about how effortless the supervillain persona is for Taylor. (Every you is the real you, you are the mask and the wearer, etc.) Her standoff against Dragon and Defiant might be one of my favorite scenes yet. The perfectly affected nonchalance, the hanging threats toward hostages (becoming a theme), the mile-a-minute plotting, the grandiose gestures, the leveraging of fear… she’s a wonder and a terror.

- When she smiles and Clockbocker says “Fuck me, it just sunk in. It’s really her.” :-)))

- “and so that Defiant could make something resembling an apology as part of his twelve step assholes anonymous process” I fucking love you Taylor I love you forever

#wormblogging #LONG POST #sorry. #I am so excited for the story progression from here on out.

[nika6q]

Tech and Phee

So, I just read a bunch of arguments against this ship. And I don't really want to try to persuade anyone to feel either way. I just have some thoughts.

First off, I don't think Wanda Sykes works in this part. Personally I like to picture Sharon Duncan-Brewster. Also, I don't disagree that she comes off as a bit abrasive when we first meet her. But so did the Bad Batch, like waaaaay worse. It would be weird if she was some demure uwu girl.

There's actually a lot of parallels between them. They both make I'm seldom wrong, I'm always right comments. They have similar disregard for danger. They both have an intense (to the point of endangering themselves) love of knowledge and investigation.

They have both made communication blunders. I'm referring to the dreaded "it's called a conversation" incident. It's not fair to always expect women characters to be perfect so that the male character can work through their shit. This was still less hurtful than Tech's blunder with Omega. It's okay to make blunders. It happens to both men and women, and NT and ND people. We autistics can't expect NTs to immediately understand how to perfectly interact with us anymore that they can expect the same from us. It's not going to be perfect from the start. But they both have the patience and focus to get through that.

The build up. Ok, before the Pabu, I didn't see it. I don't think he did either. He clearly blue screened during the "head to these coordinates" shoulder touch. I think this is the "holy shit she is flirting" blue screen realization. I think after that it clicked for him, like ooooooh that's why she acts like that, okay. Suddenly, we see him smiling at her and interacting in a different way. Especially the "hold on scene". We've seen Tech carry Echo by him holding around his neck. We see Wrecker in this episode carry the old man the same way. It would have been very appropriate to carry her that way too. But no. He grabbed that lady around the waist without hesitation.

The goodbye. Again, this is just my read on the scene, but why was he hanging outside the ship? I think he wanted to say goodbye but didn't know how. Phee comes over (as he probably expected which is why he was out) and he just shutdown. This isn't a situation he's been in, it's not easy, he doesn't know how to function here. I don't think he was staring at his screen because he wanted to ignore her, it's because he fucking shutdown. I've addressed the "it's called a conversation" above, but I'll add that she didn't get pissed or shitty. She finally sees that he's not willing or able to have this conversation and she ends it with a goodbye and a kind smile. As she leaves, his look isn't a "thank God that shit's over" look. It's a longing look. Maybe he still has to work out his feelings. But there is something there.

This is as much build up as a show this short can fit in. There is literally not enough time for more. Considering the amount of storytelling they have to get to, it's actually quite a lot (IMO).

Again, these are just my thoughts. I'm not trying to invalidate if other people read it differently and don't ship it.