#and then you proceed to be an ass to women in general

[mysicklove]

I’m sorry but I’m not a woman’s so that’s mean I don’t want to read x female reader cuz I don’t have a pussy

incel anon this one wasnt funny :/ can u say something more misogynistic so i can laugh at you? litterally have one job 🙄🙄🙄

[millersfinest]

untethered³ | e.w

00s!ellie williams & 00s!miller!reader

wc: 8.1k

series: chapter one, chapter two, chapter three (you’re here!), chapter four

blurb: it’s been awhile since you’ve been back home; in upstate new york where you’ve spent most of your life waking up early and tending to the animals that moo’d and meh’d. after graduation high school, and then college, the city life has stolen most of your attention. enabling you to visit only a handful of times through the years. when your lovely adoptive parents (tommy and maria miller) invite you back for a thanksgiving dinner—a troubled old flame from your childhood manages to get your attention, despite its explosive ending.

cw: +18, lmao flip phones, r and ellie NOT beating the cheating allegations, more use of y/n then i would prefer, she/her pronouns, afab anatomy mentioned, some vulgar language, fuckgirl!ellie (kind of), the millers, r is a writer (she doesn’t write much in this ch wink wink), dina being a bitch, more horndog ellie, r being a little self-deprecating, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, jealous ellie, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, r is still very jealous of cat, hella angst, rich!abby (one of r’s evil exes), emotional cheating (from ellie), r using abby for sex, repressed emotions, crazy mature chapter (wasn’t intentional lmao)

note: lmao guys, i just wanna say as i proceed with this series… i do not agree w cheating on your partners DONT DO IT. don’t be like ellie (or the reader), it hurts people’s feelings and it’s just not worth it. i hope i tagged everyone who wanted to to be. bisous little lesbians/sapphics in my phone <3 please, enjoy this dramatic ass chapter x

Normally, you wouldn’t be so pliant with Abigail—letting her hands drift toward the small of your back. Clearly, expressing her attraction, because she lost that privilege a while ago. But, you were weakened. And with the burning dark irises of an old friend into the back of your frame, you couldn’t help but let her. It was like she was some sort of cloak of invisibility. Some made up thing in your head ease your spirits.

You met Abby about a year ago, 2004, at some high profile event your agent made you go to. Isa introduced you as an aspiring author to anyone that she could, getting your name out there—which was a good thing, but horribly embarrassing at the time.

Abby was there with her dad, a well-known general surgeon in the city; when she was still in medical school. Wanting someone to talk to, you offered her a drink; a flute of expensive champagne. You didn’t hide your attraction to her, but you approached her with an open mind. Fortunately for you, the night consisted of flirting and great conversation. She was smart, and you loved smart women.

Give or take a few months, you withstand her busy schedule—dating each other, giving only a sliver of intention to one another. You weren’t sure what you wanted, but what you did know is that you couldn’t stand flakiness. Abby began to flake on you a lot; whether it was for her friends or work or school. For work and school you understood, but even then there were days you spent laying around each other completing your priorities. Somehow in the midst of your temporary romance, she began to cast you aside. Maybe it was because you weren’t drowning in money like she was. Or, she just didn’t like you—both were awful options.

Taking the lead, because you’d rather dump than be dumped, you broke up with her—she then hit you with: we weren’t in a relationship. Which was rough on the ears and heart. That was the first time you actually tried with someone in a long time, and she fucked it up. You learned your lesson, though.

The two of you didn’t speak for a few months, but then you called her on a very lonely night, begging for warmth. And, ever since then, it’s been off and on—you playing hard to get and her playing wanting to have.

In the bar, with your hand clutching your cold, cheap cocktail, you walked with her in the direction of Ellie. Abby had her eyes set on her friend group, so she didn’t realize you were slowing down. “I’ll catch up with you…”

“Oh—“ She looked down, seeing the table of three practically gawking at her. Abby made a face that was unreadable. “Don’t make me have to come and find you.” She purred in your ear, slipping her arm from around your shoulders. Abby was such a show off when she wanted to be, which was more often than not.

An uncomfortable smile rested on your lips, hand waving, shortly, to the three sat at the rocky table. Ellie looked completely taken aback, leaning forward on her elbows. “Who the fuck was that?” Ellie whispered as you slipped into the seat she saved for you. Her jacket was placed on the back of your seat, holding it for you.

“Hey, y/n!” Jesse spoke, grinning ear to ear, leaning back in his wooden chair.

“y/n,” Dina said, plastering a fake smile on her glossy lips.

Jesse snickered, taking a sip of his beer. “Is that all you? Goddamn.”

“She’s just a friend from New York…” You waved a hand, dismissively.

“We just watched her feel you up and buy you a drink. Some friend she is.” Ellie countered, glancing over her shoulder at the tall, muscular blonde sitting with her friends. And, weirdly enough, Abby had her eyes on her, too.

You scoffed, holding up a hand. “Okay, she didn’t feel me up. Just forget it.” Shaking your head, you replaced that stern look on your face with a smile. “Anyway, how are you guys? It’s been a long time.” You wrap your lips around the straw sticking out of your drink. The sweet tangy flavor of the alcohol mixed with cranberry juice spreading over your tongue—easing your worries.

He glanced at Ellie, briefly. So fast, you almost missed it. Almost. “I’m doing good. Just moved into my new place in Boston. How about you, Dina?” Jesse raised an eyebrow, nudging her arm.

She stirred the ice in her water with her straw, raising a thick eyebrow. “I’m great.” Dina responded, simply.

“Great.” You say, sipping your drink, awkwardly.

There was silence between the four of you that could only be classified as awkward, uncomfortable and tense. Ellie boring her big eyes into the side of your face as you, purposely, ignored her. Dina no longer having a reason to speak because of your sudden appearance. And, Jesse, well… He was normal. If anything he was trying to fight the demon that was the awkward silence.

Ellie shook her head, a scoff falling from her lips. Abruptly, she stood up, walking over to the bar. Even though her beer was barely touched. “What’s wrong with her?” You mutter, watching her get up. She motioned for the bartender, and you watched them fill up a shot glass. Her slender frame leaned over the bar top, on her toes. Pale skin exposed between the belt holding up her jeans and the hem of her shirt. You couldn’t help but let your eyes linger there—places you’ve touched with the pads of your fingers…

“I don’t know… But, I’m curious. Be right back.” Jesse stood to his feet, taking his beer with him. Leaving, none other than, you and Dina left alone.

Chewing your lip, you slide your drink forward, looking her in the eye. Perhaps, it was the liquid courage settling in your muscles. “Things shouldn’t be weird between us… Ellie wanted me here.” You felt the need to defend your place. Ever since that day, she always seen you as some predatory figure—now, that you think of it… She had even before that day. Just did a better job at hiding it. You were the predatory animal chasing over your gullible and prancing prey—Ellie

“Yeah, and sometimes she doesn’t know what’s good for her. So… I’m sure she did.”

Ouch.

You physically coiled at her words. A dry, pissed scoff fell from your lips. “Fuck you, Dina.” You cursed, leaning back in your chair. Ellie could never do wrong in her eyes—it was obnoxious. Did she have a crush on her or something?

She dryly laughed, shaking her head. “Fuck me?” Dina raised an eyebrow. “Look at her!” She jutted her brown eyes in her direction. “Every time you’re around, she ends up looking that. A wilted fucking flower.” She scolded you, causing you to follow her eyes. Jesse spoke to her with intent eyes. Ellie ran her hands through her hair, eyes shifting side to side. You didn’t know what they were talking about, but it seemed serious. “Just face it, y/n… You’re the common denominator here.”

The common denominator. What an interesting choice of words.

“She’d probably have a better night if you just leave. Go home. Let blondie over there take you home… Or a taxi. I don’t care.” Dina turned her face from you, like you were nothing.

Your hands began to shake and tremble from her words. The muscles in your face twitched and heated up like a furnace—eyes welling up with pained tears. You sniffled, standing up from your chair. Trying every which way not to make a fuss—saving face. She was always such a bitch! So, instead, you rushed to the bathroom with the stiffest posture. Heels stalking by Ellie and Jesse with eyes set on the women’s restroom to unleash your fury.

It was like a gust of wind passing her, Ellie’s words trailed as she unloaded onto Jesse about where her minds been. He was, probably, the only person she could even share it with. Dina didn’t like you very much, she was too emotionally involved. Jesse wasn’t bias and could give her proper advice—it was just up to Ellie if she wanted to follow it or not.

Ellie confessed that the feelings she had for you hadn’t gone away. Something he already knew. But she explained it like an act of a possession—as if the softness of your skin, the beauty of your features, the smell that exuded from you was a spooky presence that just won’t leave her alone. A poltergeist. It was becoming a carnal need the more she saw you.

But what about Cat?

What about her?

Then, on cue, you passed her. Ellie only caught a glimpse of your face. Jaw trembling, the sound of your emotional hiccups. Immediately, her olive eyes shifted to the young woman left at the table. She clenched her jaw, shaking her in disapproval. “Jesse, can you get a fucking handle on her?”

“Easy, Ellie. Don’t talk about her like that. She’s just looking out for you— or trying to.” He told, shifting on his feet. “…And she’s pregnant.”

Her eyes widened. “What?!” Jesse motioned for her to whisper.

“Shh! I wasn’t supposed to say anything. Dina’ll kill me.”

“You guys aren’t even together—“ Ellie pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. “Congratulations.” She intoned, running her hand through her hand. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna go check on—“

“Yeah, go ahead. I’ll talk to Dina.”

Meanwhile, you paced around the single person bathroom. Purse thrown to the ground, makeup smudged down your cheeks. Fists clenched at your sides, and every few minutes pounding a spot on your thigh that inflicted enough pain to briefly distract you from the pain inflicted on your heart. Dina doesn’t understand! You’re not a bad person for what happened that day. When will Ellie get the heat for what happened? Why does it always have to be you? It was always your fault.

So much time has passed, meaning you’ve thought about the altercation for a long time. Hell, it was all you thought about at times. You should’ve never put your hands on Ellie that way—you knew that. But, she shouldn’t have pushed you to do it either. That was her mistake. Pushing and prodding at someone she claimed to love. Ellie was aware of that, too. She wrote about it in that letter she hand delivered on her eighteenth birthday.

Wringing your hands out, you heaved. Emotions still weighing heavy on your heart. Her words cut you like a knife—triggering you. Before you met Tommy and Maria Miller, life was so much harder. Everything was your fault and your birth parents—and the numerous foster parents that you had—made sure that you knew that. It wasn’t fair then, and it wasn’t fair now.

What stopped your progressing thoughts was the gentle call of your name, and a soft knock. It was Ellie.

“Go away!” You sniffled, leaning over the sticky sink to get a look at your appearance. It was a tragedy.

“Please, just let me in. I don’t know what Dina said… But, I’m sure it was fucked up— look, she has her reasons.”

“She has her reasons—?!” You exclaim, looking at the door through the reflection.

“But that doesn’t make it right. I know.” You heard her lean against the door. “Please, y/n.”

Wiping your face, you sighed. Sniffling, you walked over to unlock the door, gulping. “It’s unlocked…” You spoke, weakly. Positioning yourself with your back against the sink, you crossed your arms. Watching her push inside the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Ellie pressed her back against the door, observing you with the softest pair of green eyes you’ve ever seen. It was charming. Through her thick eyelashes, pelvis leaning forward—like she was a child in trouble.

“I’m so sorry about Dina. I should’ve never invited you… I just thought things would be different.” She frowned, fiddling with her fingers in front of her body. Her fingernails had chipped black nail polish on them; focusing on that was easier than focusing on her.

“Well…” You dryly chuckled. “You thought wrong.” Slowly, you drag your eyes from her hands, to her face—avoiding her eyes, though. “Apparently, you’d be better off if I left… Or died; if it were Dina’s way.” Your voice trembled, tears falling from the corners of your eyes. Dina didn’t tell you to die, but that’s what her tone told you. All you were doing was existing. If that’s what stressed Ellie out then… Fuck. Maybe you should just croak, huh?

Ellie ran her hands over her face, taking quick steps towards you. “Fuck— I don’t know why she said that.” Her hand ran through her straight hair, frustrated at herself and Dina. “I—… I do want you here. She doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about.” She reaches a hand out for you, but you flinch. There was a slight height difference to the pair of you—your heels caused you to look down at her. But, you weren’t looking down on her.

She was close enough for you to notice the orange-brown flecks in her irises. The ones you missed… So much, and desired wholly. However, you pushed yourself into the ceramic sink, fighting temptation. “Don’t tell me you actually believe what she said?” Her doe eyes looked up at you, demanding a response.

“I don’t know… It’s more than that, Ellie.” You analyze her features as inconspicuously as you could—which wasn’t possible. She noticed everything because she was doing the same thing.

Your bodies drew to each other like the opposite sides of conjoined magnets. Eyes intertwining and overcoming like they always did. Tensions were high, and you were in an enclosed space—your stomach rumbled with anticipation. “Tell me what it is, then.” The feeling of her fingers sliding up the curve of your elbow caused you huff, moving to the toilet to sit down. Cold air replacing where her fingers attempted to tether to you.

Ellie sighed, bunching her hand into a fist at her side. She knew what she was doing—after all, she was a pusher. It was hard to identify when to stop.

You dropped your head into your hands, forcing even breath from your lips. “It’s just… Old shit, okay? Dina struck a nerve.” You glanced at her through your hands, lips quivering.

Ellie took your previous spot, pondering. She knew about your life before your parents—how awful those people treated you; and she couldn’t understand why. You were a scorned person, like most of the kids you grew up with, but underneath it all you were soft. She’s witnessed that softness. And she will regret it for the rest of her life that she was the one to pull you from that that—all for dumb proof of trauma.

She realized too late that she was never alone in that traumatic suffering of the adoption system. After that day, she never wanted to see you hurt like that again. Or at all. Ellie wanted to make everything up to you.

Seeing those tears staining your cheeks; she wanted to kiss it better.

“I’ll talk to her.” The words fled from her mouth. Her old converse squeaked toward you, squatting before your sat figure on the filthy toilet. You turned your head, shutting your eyes and shivering at the thought of her. “Hey,” Her fingers grazed your jaw, pulling your eyes into her line of sight. “I will. She crossed the line— this isn’t my favorite version of you.” Her eyebrows deepened, pressing her lips into a firm line. She wanted to be level with you—not above or below.

Those words were music to your ears. Supple in its raspiness. The warm touch of her fingers on your face, you leaned into her hand. She had a favorite version of you? You reached up, gently gripping her wrist to pull it from you. Ellie shouldn’t have been touching you like this. But, even so, your bodies somehow gravitated toward one another. Eyes staring at each others parted lips, wanting. Needing. Her hand bracing on your thigh, pulling herself closer until your lips met.

Soft and forbidden. You gasped against her mouth, pulling away for a brief moment. Her olive eyes were pleading, and you just couldn’t say no. Being a victim of your flesh, your hand found its way to the back of her neck to pull her lips flush to yours. Mixed whines coming from the both of you; lips merging and meshing together. Creating something beautiful.

Every time you were physical with someone they were missing something. This was it! The passion, the history—the things that matter. The fucking chemistry; it was all there with Ellie. And, deep down, you knew that it was the only place you were going to find it.

She pushed into you, being guided by her carnal desire. Whining and growling into your mouth. Hands gripping at your hips, and the side of your backside. Ellie was hooked under a spell you concocted—some aphrodisiac that exuded from you. And she wanted to breathe more of you in until she couldn’t anymore. She was gluttonous.

Breaking her trance was a rough knock on the bathroom door. The two of you basically jumped apart; you falling into the toilet, nearly touching the water, her falling on the floor. Some of the glitter on your lips had rubbed off onto hers—it looked nice on her, but that was besides the point.

“Some people need to piss! Get out of the fucking bathroom!” Some heavy handed woman exclaimed from the other side.

A smile spread on her lips, hazy eyes watching as you pulled yourself up. “Fuck, Ellie. Why are you smiling?” You walk to the mirror, taking a look at yourself. You and Ellie had just kissed. The same Ellie who’s girlfriend is waiting for her back at the guesthouse. The pressure was already hitting you like a ton of bricks—Ellie was right, you had a terrible poker face. How could you forget about this? “Can you hand me that?” You pointed to the purse beside her.

She chuckled, standing up from the floor. Your purse was in her hand as she walked up behind you, handing it over. Her other snaking around your hips—clearly, still overcome. Taking the purse, you smack her hand away. “Enough!” You scold, deepening your eyebrows. She pouted, crossing her arms. Leaning her back against the wall, shutting her eyes. But it was soon replaced with a smirk.

Your fingers rummaged through your purse for your lipgloss. “This didn’t happen… This never happened…” You muttered to yourself. Once you found the sparkling tube, you began to apply it like a nervous tick. “I still don’t know what you keep finding so funny— nobody can find out about this, Ellie.” You turn to her, dropping your lipgloss back into your purse. “What just happened isn’t fucking funny—“

You were a homewrecker, a thief of girlfriends—watch out New York!

“You’re spiraling.”

“Yeah, and I have every reason to. This isn’t me. I’m not this person. You have a girlfriend!”

Ellie watched you ramble with a look of in awe in her eyes—you were fucked, and so was she. “I remember…” She couldn’t compel herself to care about the repercussions of hr actions; Ellie just wanted you. Even more now than before. She was given an inch, and she was ready to take a mile. Perhaps, longer if that was possible. Your ethics only made her want you more.

The glitter on her lips distracted you, causing you to reach your thumbs near her lips to wipe away the signs of you. Her wide eyes looked up at you, hands wrapping around your wrists. Where did she learn this type of behavior from? VHS porn?“Ellie, will you quit it?!” You stomped your foot, squeezing your eyes. “Fuck me.” You whisper to yourself, adjusting your purse.

“I’ll see you at home…” You mutter, placing your hand on the door handle.

“Am I not driving you?”

“No. You’re gonna stay here, mingle—fuck, I don’t care.” You shook your head. “Abby’s gonna take me home.” The words rushed from your lips because you were thinking and speaking at the same time. You needed an alibi and that’s what Abby was going to be.

The auburn-haired woman rolled her eyes, scoffing under her breath. Jealousy peaking inside of her like it did earlier. “Abby. Abby… The buff blonde you walked into the bar with— the one who was feelin’ you up.” She popped the p sound, nodding her head with searching eyes.

“She wasn’t feeling me up. I don’t think you know what feeling up looks like.”

“Show me, then.”

Your jaw almost dropped from its hinges, gasping at the woman before you. She was shameless, and you were the complete opposite—it was a recipe for disaster. “Like I said… I’ll see you at home.” You opened the door, slipping through to allow her some privacy. The people must’ve opted for the men’s restroom. Fucking freak. You thought, fighting the amused smile off your lips.

Adjusting your top, you approached Abby’s booth. She was surrounded by familiar faces—you knew them-ish. “Abs, can I talk to you for a second?” She looked up at you, blinking with slight confusion at your state.

“Oh, hi, y/n!” A short-haired woman grinned, wiggling her fingers at you.

You smiled at her, while Abby shimmied out of the booth. Taking her hand, you led her away from her friends, keeping her large hand in yours as you began to speak. “I know it’s early, but could you take me home? Like, now?”

She deepened her eyebrows, a hand dropping to your face, wiping at the mascara stains that had run down your cheeks. “Are these tears?” She bunched her eyebrows, gripping your chin and moving your head side to side. “I saw you run to the bathroom—“

“It’s not important, all right?” Your eyes peer up at the blonde woman, pressing your lips into a line. Pleading and batting your eyes at her—you really wanted to go home. And you weren’t necessarily doing it for Dina, it was more so because of her. As well as the fact that you had just made out with a woman who was spoken for. Whose girlfriend who is only ten minutes away, and who also offered to get champagne for Thanksgiving after you mentioned its absence. It was currently, probably, chilling in the fridge as all of this unfolded.

While you semi-sensually begged the woman to drive you home in her Jaguar, Ellie had gotten herself together in the bathroom. After you left, she released a joyful laugh once the door shut behind you. As if she had finished with making out with the hottest girl in school—very teenage-like. Her cheeks were flushed, blushing a warm mahogany through her freckles. You wanted her just as much as she wanted you; the kid proved that much.

But, then, a pang of guilt settled in the pit of her stomach. A fragment. Very small and minuscule.

It wasn’t right away; Ellie was certain that you thought of her to be cold based on how she was handling the situation. She had a girlfriend and found the situation amusing? You’re right—nothing was funny about what happened before you fell into the toilet and before she fell onto the floor. The both of you had managed to dig yourselves into a hole that she didn’t want to get out of. And she was sure you felt the same—she hoped you felt the same. Holes were fun, right?

Ellie wanted to keep digging deeper, and deeper, and deeper. She wanted to envelop herself with you, just like she used to. However, this time, she wasn’t planning on letting you go.

Cat was just something—someone she had to deal with in the meantime. She’s gonna fix it… Ellie just doesn’t know how, right now. She can’t think straight. Pun intended.

Leaving the bathroom, she checked her cell. Noticing the few messages her girlfriend had left her during the short period of time she had you to herself. Her avoidant nature caused her to skim them, then slap her phone shut.

“Everything good?” Jesse questioned, watching as she approached the table.

Ellie shoved her phone into her front pocket. “Yeah… Everything’s fine.” Her olive eyes averted to Dina. “Dude…?” She squinted her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Els. I went too far, I know.”

“I’m glad you know.” She sat in her chair, glancing over at you talking to the buff blonde. “What you said was fucked up, and I should be more mad at you, right now…”

She sighed, pouting her lips. “Well, thank you for your mercy, sire.” A smile creeped onto her lips.

“Dina,” Ellie narrowed her eyes, shaking her head.

Jesse side-eyed her, pressing his lips into an unimpressed line. She looked over at him, lips parting. “Just tryin’ to lighten up the mood. Excuse me.” Dina deepened her eyebrows, sliding down in her chair.

Ellie chortled, shaking her head once more, making sure to swing it far to get a glance at you. She watched you follow Abby back to her booth, telling them that you were leaving. Her hand guiding you, rubbing circles on the back of your hand. Fuck, that should’ve been Ellie. She hated watching you lean into her like that—shrinking yourself. That wasn’t you.

You were bold, opinionated, and despite your strict upbringing, you never shrunk. If anything, Maria and Tommy’s parenting gave you confidence. That used to intimidate Ellie, but it didn’t anymore. It influenced her.

As you walked out with Abby, Ellie gave an awkward wave, but you snapped your head in the other direction. You needed to clean your pallet, and that’s exactly what you were planning to do in that shiny black Jaguar.

When the door opened, the brisk, autumn air hit you, cooling your body down. But your mind was still set on using Abby as a cleanser—a handkerchief to wipe you of your mistakes.

You feigned a straightforward destination, giving her the address of your childhood home. But, halfway, you told her to pull over onto a dark dirt path. She made a joke, asking: Is this where you kill me and steal my car?

And you respond, full of need: I don’t want your stupid fucking car. I want you. Launching yourself over the center console, wrapping your arms around her face. You swing one of your legs over to straddle her in the driver’s seat. Hips grinding against her, shoving your tongue down her throat like she was going to leave you. Although, she wasn’t going anywhere—not with you on her lap, anyway.

Abby groaned into your mouth, gripping your ass over your jeans, pushing you harder against her. Messily, you begin to trail your lips down her jaw, toward the softness of her neck. Urgently nibbling at her skin. “Fuck, you’re eager…” Abby muttered through her heavy breathing. “I like this version of you.”

This isn’t my favorite version of you. Ellie’s voice echoed in your head. It frustrated you.

Warmth built up under the crotch of your jeans; the thick seam doing very little for the pleasure you wanted. “Please, Abby…” You breathed into her ear, tugging at the silver ring through her cartilage. “Touch me.” Reaching for her hand, you place between your legs, cupping her hand as she groped you. Meeting her eyes, you taunted her, chewing on your bottom lip.

The blonde didn’t hesitate, unbuttoning your jeans and shoving her hand inside. She was always quick to give rather than receive—listening to any command you spoke. As the pads of her fingers contact with where you needed her the most, you sighed. “You’re so wet for me already…”

It was debatable whether it was for her or not. With your eyes squeezed shut, you imagined the earthy, olive eyes of your past lover. The softness of the her lips. The desperation in which she put her all into pleasing you—it was experienced before. But, at that point, you were amateurs. So much has changed since then. You were curious how much, though. “All for you.” You whined, rocking your hips against her hand. Lying through your teeth.

She pressed two fingers into you, pushing a moan from your throat. Hands gripping her shoulders, bracing your weight. You imagined them to be her fingers curling deep inside of you—pulling sounds from you like a puppeteer.

You were worser than you thought.

Abby was supposed to be a pallet cleanser, but instead she was just a vessel for your horny fantasies.

The palm of her hand rubbed against your clit, pushing you closer to an edge you wanted to fall off of. A tightness built in the pit of your stomach—burning like a prosperous flame; standing by to erupt. “Ah… Fuck, yes!” You lewdly affirmed, fingers gripping the roots of her hair, back arching into her. The smell of lavender shampoo wafting into your nose from how close you were.

Ellie would never wash her hair with lavender shampoo. She stuck to sweeter, muskier smells. The one’s you liked.

Your legs trembled around her hips, jolting with every stroke and thrust. Her ministrations intensifying causing the sounds from your lips to get louder, laced with desire. “Abby,” You trembled with a warning tone. “I’m g—gonna… Fuck, I’m comi—“ Your choppy words are cut off with the snapping of a band in your stomach—spreading over you like a brisk gust of wind. Shocking your body into a brief state of paralysis against her strong frame.

She coax’s you through your orgasm, with that same come hither motion that got you there to begin with. Although, she was so quiet. That’s when clarity hit you, as you shakily rocked against her hand. Reaching down, you grip her wrist, kissing the pressure point under her ear. “Can you check the time f’me?” You sweetly ask, still subtly, rutting against her.

Abby checked the watch on her wrist. “Eleven-something.” She hummed into your neck.

“Eleven-somethin’, huh?” You tease, lifting off her, trying to settle back into the passenger seat. “I should probably get home…” You zipped and buttoned your pants. Normally, you’d be eager to return the favor, but your plan didn’t work—and, frankly, that irritated you. That nerdy, auburn-haired, freckled woman, that you knew so well, had burrowed herself under your skin already. It was a recipe for disaster.

There was a twitch in Abby’s brow at your sudden departure from her. She felt that bite of coldness; it was something she wasn’t used to. Nonetheless, she drove you home. With you leaning on the window, watching dark, shedding trees pass you by. All the way until you felt that familiar shift from side to side as you cruised over the gravel that led to your childhood home.

“How long are you gonna be here for?” You asked as she pulled to a stop, where Ellie’s car was previously parked. It was out of courtesy to wonder; these parts of town wasn’t really for people like her.

“Until the end of the week, then back to work.” She turned toward you, pushing her hair behind her ear. “When am I gonna see you again?” Record scratch. Abby Anderson has never asked you that. She was always aloof and carefree. I’m too busy. Let me check my schedule.

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from your lips. “I’m really tying to spend some time with my family, but— uhm… I’ll call you, okay?” Leaning over the console, you place a lush smooch on her lips—riding on the confidence from her lack thereof.

Getting out of her expensive car, you adjust your clothing before walking into your house. Thankfully, the lights were off, meaning your parents were asleep. Thank, God. You looked awful, and you preferred not to be questioned on your state, Ellie’s whereabouts, and who took you home.

Gently, you shut the door behind you, keys jiggling in your hand. Slipping out of your heels, you tiptoed toward the fridge just to prove something to yourself. The white light from the fridge illuminated your deadpanned expression as two tall bottles of champagne sat on the second shelf. Nobody likes champagne that much. You rolled your eyes, scoffing under your breath.

Cat didn’t deserve any of what happened tonight, and you hated that.

When you got to your bedroom, you wasted no time to peel the clothes from your body. Falling atop of your mattress like a starfish. Before you slipped under the covers, you pulled your laptop onto your stomach to log into your MySpace. There was a red notification on your activity icon. When you click on it, StarlightWilliams had added you back—you were mutuals now. The pads of your fingers touched your lips, remembering the softness of hers from that moment in the bathroom. The pressure of her slender fingers gripping your sides—wistfully you sighed, slumping your head against the fluffy pillows and stuffed animals against your headboard.

Suddenly, your computer makes a sound—a ping. You sit up, squinting at the incoming notification.

kit_cat79 wants to be your friend!

What a coincidence. The website exposes whether you were online or not—you couldn’t hide from her. So, you decided to add her back. Cat’s picture was of her with her tongue out, dark bangs styled to the side. You didn’t realize that she had a tongue piercing—could she get any cooler? Maybe you should get a tongue piercing.

Her mood hadn’t been recently updated, but it was: Optimistic.

Her bio didn’t over explain much, but said more than her freckled counterpart: my name is cat and i do tattoo’s !! message me for inquiries (or ur a loser). Your eyes and cursor skimmed her account, not paying attention to the smaller details. Quickly, you navigated to the pictures and videos. There were some pieces of her work, candids of Ellie, pictures of her at band shows—

kit_cat79: hey… i know it’s late, but that was you who just got back, right?

The messages appeared at the bottom left corner of the screen, blinking green.

BugsWritersRoom: Hey, yeah. That was me…

Duh.

kit_cat79: i thought you went with ellie in her truck. also… where is she? she’s not answering my texts.

Was she worried about her? Or was her questioning coming from a place of distrust? Or, a secret third option... you had a bad case of paranoia.

BugsWritersRoom: She’s still at TB. I’m sure she’s just distracted catching up with Jesse and Dina.

kit_cat79: oh…

kit_cat79: that was some car you pulled up in...

She was wanting to start conversation, but you were too tired. You didn’t want to think about, or talk to another person about Abby. Let alone, talk about her with Cat. No offense. Sleep is the only time when your mind was going to finally rest, and you can resume thinking tomorrow.

Leaving her message on seen, you shut your laptop, pushing it to the side. You took Cat’s message as a sign to shut it down, reaching to click your lamp off.

You allowed sleep to take over, cuddling into your pillows as if it were a body. Hitching your leg over it, tugging it to your chest. Could you have been more evident in your loneliness? In your restless dreams, your brain scoured for something to show you. Something relevant, of course.

Olive eyes, freckles, prominent beauty mark—it was obvious what images it was looking for. Ellie.

By the time the sun lingered on the horizon, a tragic alarming song sang in unison to wake you—the sound of your ancient alarm, and the sound of the rooster sat atop of the chicken coop. Groaning into the pillow you held, squinting your eyes open. It had pulled you from a dream that was… Certainly, a dream. It was untoward, lewd; just straight up nasty.

There was a wetness between your legs that was the first to get your attention. Out of shameful curiosity, you reached your hand under your shorts; hoping it wasn’t your period suprising you. Pulling your fingers out, there was an absence of the dark hue that was a symbol of your menstrual cycle. It was fairly clear, shiny, and slick. You were a victim of a wet dream. How juvenile.

The sight of it only made your hornier. So, while you still had time, you jumped for one of the bags you brought. You were expected for morning chores, but there was always time to rub one out.

Taking the battery-powered silver bullet from you bag, you attempt to switch it on but it doesn’t respond. You even switch the batteries around, blowing into the port. “Come on…” You complain, but it still it doesn’t adhere to you.

You groan, falling back into your pillows. There was nothing wrong with going old school, but you were a creature of habit.

Sliding your hand down your body, you slip under your shorts and underwear. It didn’t take long for you to completely rouse yourself, blinking your eyes shut to fall into your imagination. Usually, the best material was your most recent hookup—or some celebrity crush that you couldn’t get over.

The movement of your finger mirrored a strong blonde who always aimed to please you. You could imagine yourself gripping her long, silky hair, pushing her into your pussy—devouring you. Feeling her hands gripping your thighs, anchoring them to the mattress.

You relished in the feeling that was slowly washing over you. So much so that when the image of blonde hair began to fade and be replaced by short auburn strands, you barely noticed. Subconsciously, replicating the dream that kept you snug as a bug all through the night.

Your ministrations quickened as you neared finality. Bottom lip slipping between your teeth. Soft, repressed moans sneaking through them as your hand clutched your breast, thumbing your sensitive nipple. The serotonin levels increasing with every swipe and slide. Fuck, El—

Downstairs, the artist peeled dried paint from her fingers, waiting for you. Staying out late knowing she had to get up for chores was a huge mistake. There were many mistakes that happened last night. Another being, ignoring Cat’s messages. Ellie pulled into the driveway not too much later than you—it was nearing one o’clock.

When she entered the guesthouse, shrugging off her jacket—with a mind busier than New York City herself—Cat was found in the small living room. With her thin eyebrows bunched together and her arms crossed over her chest. Dressed in nothing but a fitted tank top and cheeky underwear.

Ellie had looked at her with a stressed look, “What are you still doing up?” Walking past her to the bedroom to undress and unwind. Cat scoffed, following her to the bedroom. Slippered feet stomping behind the artist.

“What am I doing up?!” She chided, twitching toward her. “I’ve been texting you all night, Ellie. You couldn’t respond to one?”

The freckled woman plopped onto her side of the bed, kicking off her shoes. She pretty much saw the messages as they were coming in; Ellie just didn’t have the nerve to respond. She didn’t feel like it. Not after what happened in the bathroom—she couldn’t come back from that. Hell, she didn’t want to come back from that. The only image replaying in her mind was your lips on hers. Your hands imbedded in her hair. The wanton sounds coming from you that she wanted to hear on again, and again, and again. That feeling of being between your legs...

And, let’s not even get into how it felt to see you leave with Abby. That ruined her whole night. Not even Jesse could cheer her up.

She ran a hand through her hair, looking over her shoulder with a tired expression. “Babe, I’m sorry, okay?” She began, standing to her feet to remove her jeans. “We just got too carried away talkin’ and whatnot.” Walking to the bathroom in the bedroom, she shed her shirt from her body. Ellie found it too easy to lie—she’s always been good at it. And, Cat was pretty gullible. But she had to throw a monkey wrench in there to really calm her down.

“Turns out… Jesse got Dina pregnant.”

“What?”

She turned on the shower, then peaked out of the doorway. “Yeah, how crazy is that?”

The tattooed girl fell onto the edge of the bed, eyes casting toward the ground, full of uncertainty. “Super crazy…”

Noticing the subtle dejection in her features, Ellie sighed. Leaving the doorframe as the shower ran hot in the background. She appeared before her, reaching her hand down to lift her chin. “Kitty Cat,” Her voice was soft and oh, so forgiving. “I should’ve responded to your texts— I’m an asshole. Let me make it up to you…” She sultrily offered, caressing the softness of her chin with her thumb.

And that’s what she did. Ellie made it up to her girlfriend of almost a year. By fucking her in the shower hard enough to make her forget about all of her uncertainties.

She had a long night.

This morning, she got up an hour earlier to get a better start on her sketch—she even started incorporating her oil paints. That’s what was stuck to her hands. The coloring in of her portrait of you in front of that shed. She felt the need to freeze that moment in time; where you embraced each other in the arms of company for the first time in too long. That hazardous kiss you shared in that sticky bathroom at the Tipsy Bison inspired her to color in the lines.

“I normally hear her up and movin’ around… She’s taking longer than I thought she would.” Maria commented, munching on a buttered bagel. “How long were you two out last night?”

Ellie inhaled, lifting her eyebrows in thought. “I got back around one, but y/n came back earlier than I did. She got a ride from a friend.” She shrugged, the ends of her lips curling, mischievously. “I think her name’s… Abby.” Ellie added, glancing between the two parents.

“Hm. What made her leave early—?” Tommy began to ask, but he stopped himself. He frowned, leaning his elbows on the counter, peering at the auburn-haired woman across from him. “How’s Dina doin’?”

She chuckled. “Still pissed, if that’s what you’re getting at?” Ellie went from peeling paint off her fingers, to fiddling with them. “They got into a bit of a…”

“Fight?” The blonde woman questioned, deepening her arched eyebrows. She never liked hearing about you fighting—or seeing it. That was a strictness Maria was never going to get rid of. Tommy used to get into fights a lot, finding himself locked behind iron bars at the county jail. But that was years before he moved to New York. When he still lived in Texas with Joel.

“No.” Ellie bunched her eyebrows in defense, shaking her head. “It was an argument, but it didn’t last long. I handled it.”

Steps sounded from the stairs, silencing the three. Pairs of eyes peered up the stairs, hoping that it was you stalking down the steps—but it wasn’t. When he began clearing his throat and coughing, loudly, they knew it was Joel. “Goddamnit…” Tommy rolled his eyes, slapping his hand against his thighs.

“Good mornin’ to you, too, Tommy.” Joel scoffed.

He huffed, licking his lips. Just like you did when you grew irritated—Tommy’s antics had rubbed off on you. “Is there any signs of life from my kids' room—? Because she should’ve been down here five minutes ago.” He looked to Joel before glancing at his watch. “Maria and I planned for her to teach Ellie how to do our grocery shipments.”

“Grocery shipments?” Ellie cast her earthy eyes toward Maria.

“It’s a lot of information, but I’m sure you’ll catch on just fine, Ellie.” She placed her hand atop of hers, pressing her lips into a smile. “If only your teacher could be timely…” Maria sighed.

The freckled artist stood up straight, pursing her lips. “I can go check and see if she’s up…” She offered, shrugging nonchalantly. “I’m sure she is— maybe she just needs a little nudge. I had rough time this mornin’, too.” To be frank, offering to grab you from the second floor of the house was clouded with selfish intentions. Ellie hadn’t seen your bedroom since she was seventeen. She couldn’t help but wonder if anything had changed.

And, she wanted a useful reason to talk to you.

Your parents are wondering what the hell you’re doing— also, how was our kiss from 1-10?

Hey, you’re supposed to be teaching me about grocery shipments, right now— hypothetically, would you kiss me again… Or?

She was such a loser for you; she always has been. “If you don’t mind. I’m sure she’d appreciate seeing you more than me.” Tommy chuckled, nudging his wife but she barely broke a smile. Staring her husband down with icy, blue eyes.

Ellie’s eyebrows twitched, but she decided not to interact with whatever happened there. Quickly, moving to the stairs to find you.

What she could remember about your room was the pink wallpaper and the posters. You used to be very persistent in upgrading old ones for new ones—saving the old ones in your closet. She found it amusing how you could never get over anything; you liked to collect things. As many things as possible—posters, collectors items, superhero figurines—you were an undercover geek!

The fascination you had with catwoman was insane. But, understandable.

The stairs of your home was guided by many picture frames. Pictures of you lining the walls. The bottom starting with photos of you when you still went heavy on the eyeliner and hairspray; gradually preceding with much happier images of you. The final photo being the whole family together, including Ellie. It was taken after your college graduation, in front of the house. You were sandwiched between your grinning parents while Joel and Ellie were on both ends; her sporting a timid smile, and him grinning just like his brother.

She was so proud of you that day, but didn’t dare to enunciate that how she really wanted to. At the time, the shoulder you gave her was ice cold. Brisker than the harsh weather of the east coast.

When she emerged at the top step, the first door in front of the stairs was cracked open. But that wasn’t your bedroom, that was your parents’ bedroom. Down the hall, to the right, after passing an open floor planned media space, was the guest room. Where Joel was spending his nights. A little further down that hall was your bedroom.

It was the best spot in the house. Your bedroom have the best view of the front of the house, and was far enough from the prying ears of curious parents.

Neither you or Ellie were innocent teenagers—you both couldn’t wait to get some alone time, and you couldn’t keep your hands off each other once you started. It was the perfect place for late night shenanigans.

Again, some things never change, huh?

Strolling toward your door, Ellie raises her hand to give a soft knock. But she pauses at the faint sounds coming from under your door. Breathy whines, the light rocking of your old, rickety bed frame. Could she hear just how wet you were from outside your door?

She leaned closer to the brown door, her bottom lip slotting between her teeth. Ellie wanted to be sure she was hearing correctly, of course. She heard you cursing and swearing, but nothing shocked her more than when she heard you squeak her name. “Fuck, Ellie…”

Apparently, Ellie wasn’t the only one who was overcome. Wanton sounds filled her ears like a mantra before she decided to interfere. Knock, knock! She heard you gasp.

“It’s Ellie... Your parents are gonna throw bitch-fits in T-minus five minutes if you’re not downstairs soon.” Ellie kept herself composed, using her hand to hold her weight against the wall. She heard you shuffling behind your door, cursing under your breath.

“I’ll be down in, like, five minutes!” You shout, the sound of quick maneuvering being heard from Ellie’s side of the door.

She wanted you to open the door, just to get a glimpse of that blissed out look on your face—Ellie anticipated that flustered look. Forgetting about her own blushing cheeks after hearing you say her name while touching yourself. She felt like a fucking king.

Stuffing her hands into her pockets, she walked to the media space. Lifting up CDs, VHS tapes, and eyeing thick books that haven’t been touched in years to pass the time. Fuck, Ellie—still played in her mind like a record. There wasn’t any scratching, only smooth playing; no interruptions.

When you appeared from your room, dressed in your working cowboy boots, a long-sleeve Abercrombie shirt and bootcut jeans—there was a shit-eating grin that just wouldn’t leave her face. Ellie turned around to lay her eyes on you, unable to help but ogle. “Do you have a condition that you’re not mentioning? Perhaps, a tumor—? Since you can’t help yourself when it comes to laughing…” You grumble, placing your hands on your hips.

Your words only made her smile more. The more time the two of you spent together, the more snarky you were becoming—she missed that. “Turns out, under some circumstances… I can be a morning person. Some circumstances.” She muttered, mainly to herself but she didn't mind if you heard. Ellie deliberated with herself on whether she was going to expose what she heard you say… Or, if she was going to hold onto it. Similar to how victorians put the hair of their lover’s into lockets.

“Whatever, Els.” You rolled your eyes, loosely calling her by that nickname, again. Ignoring the harshness of her eyes, you passed her to descend the wooden stairs. There was still a mindless sleepiness to you. It was charming to your past lover, as she followed behind you—floating on air. Thinking about how great of an idea it was to come back this year.

And, still, Ellie was barely harbored with guilt. Even more so when she inspected your features, intently. When her thoughts wandered into the gutters of her creative mind—spreading you wide in all of your glory.

taglist: @autisticintr0vert , @liasxeatt , @hopingforgoodblogs , @lia-winther , @macaroni676 , @tobiotruther , @anewkindofloove , @fatbootymuncher (i love your user lmao) , @maiaska

[hausofmamadas]

SE LA ARRANCA A MORDIDAS | mystery of Amado's anonymous lady-hustlers, solved

⁂

Holy father who art in heaven, do I have some fucking cracked ass head-canon nonsense for us to👏🏽 day👏🏽 …………….. let’s get to it shall we??

so idk if anyone anyone being the largely nonexistent narcos fandom aka the void Im speaking into remembers that one scene from Narcos in S3 where sleazy!OG!Amado told that one story about those sex workers who robbed him blind, mid-mamadita?

anyone ..... no?

dwdwdw that's okay bc I brought some visual aids to assist in our collective remembrance of this glorious occasion

⁂

The scene starts like this: 👇

Okay, yeah, right? legendary? legendary. just truly legendary behavior skfjskj on all fronts. but the identities of these social justice warriors— no wait activists— no wait, crusad— er no, patriarchy demolishers? iconic crimies with a penchant for for mid-fellatic felonies like armed robbery have been completely anonymous thus far.

…………… until now.

Bc as always, Narcoverse papis Doug Miro, Andrés Baiz, and Carlo Bernard, never fail to fill in the blanks except when they do cause Griselda left a lot to be desired and this is arguably the best ep of the show which, yeah. it’s never ideal when the best ep of a 6ep limited series is the 2nd one si me entiendes😬😬😬 but we digress because im 99.99999999999999% sure if these two sex workers from Griselda aren’t also the two legends who hustled Amado’s dick money out his pants pockets without having to fire so much as a single shot, I’m fairly certain they’re at least inspired by and carrying the torch aka bottling and distilling that Big Dick Energy to perfection of those brave women.

What gave me this idea? So glad you asked dear reader you didn’t but we’ll just pretend you did cause this my haus KEKW…. No like even I rolled my eyes at my own self for that but i couldn’t refrain either.

It all happened when I was nursing my new obsession with a one, Mr. Darío Sepúlveda a name I would most certainly believe to be fucking fake were he not an irl human bean.

👇👇 THIS slice of sweet, cherry pie right tf here

And I stumbled upon this one specific part, where the look on this chick’s face is SO FUCKINGKDHDHDGWVE SIMILAR to Amado’s face, when he’s explaining 👇👇👇👇👇👇👇how the burgling commences when the gurgling is interrupted by with an uncomfortable silence, as this chick proceeds to, hog still in mouth, cease any and all throat activity and fuckingskdfjskl just stare. up. at. him.

all 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

Like tell me homegirl’s face here👇👇 👇👇 doesn’t look just like it????????????

YOU CANTSJSHSJSHWUS YOU cANT. EVIDENCE IS IRREFUTABLE.

Anyway. Movingright along.

So, if aforementioned homegirl is the 🙇🏻‍♀️ from la historia del grande señor de los cielos, then that makes this ☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️ ... homegirl’s accomplice

with the👇👇sidearm

and like the general only slightly subtle "I eat dicks like urs for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a midnight snack" vibes that this duo is serving throughout but esp below bc never will I ever not refer to a fuckboy as mancito from now until I'm in my grave alsdkjfa like MANCITO. THE WAY SHE SAYS IT WITH SUCH ALSKDJFKS CONTEMPT, CAN YOU STAND IT????? makes it so clear in my mind's eye how they could 100000000000%% be the unnamed heroes thieves from Amado's little story

also full 180 just on the low but can we all moment of silence for this 👇👇 FUCKINGSDLDFJ LOOK ON DARIO'S FACE WHEN SHE CORRECTS HIM, "quien te dijo eso? ... un mancito?" LIKE HE FUCKIGNSLDFKJSLKJ KNOWS, HE KNOWS HE HAS ERRED ON THIS PATH, HE KNOWS HE CANNOT PASS GO, CANNOT COLLECT 200 DOLLARS AND HE HAS THE GOOD SENSE TO BE GRACIOUS ABOUT IT AND IMAS;DFLIJA;LWEJF;KAJWE;FAKJ; SFUCKINGS DFKLJSLDF JA;K CRYING, SCREAMING, THROWING UP, INCONSOLABLE. LIKE LOOK. AT THIS. OKAY, THAT A MAN, NO MANCITO

*smacks own face, jiggles head back and forth, takes deep breath* anyway.... back to the story

and this is where this prob super unhinged really solidifies bc let's join hands class and pledge alliegance to the most impressive and noteworthy alpha but in the most non-cringe way assertion of dominance I have ever fucking witnessed in all my days. Like, legit the next time i'm into a dude the way i say this like it's not an 'if' bc RIP to my love life lbr fuck all that playing coy, fuck all that flirting. We just gonna get right to the point bc imma climb all over his lap, purr in his face, and ask about his hobbies like it's the 1978 equivalent of a Hinge profile SKSKKSK

and the next time I am spurned I will absolutely grab his junk in a naked hahahaksdjfk grab for a proper leash power to gain the upper hand in the situation and shame any and all menfolk who claim to not like me bc I'm not their 'type.' which like sksjsjsjs admittedly poor Dario just said that as a pretense to get the chisme from the chick who hates Grislenda bc the look of unconcealed regret on his face when Mistress Mamma Crotch Snatcher Morton gets up seems like a good indicator he would've paid to play with his balls

BUT LIKE SIDE BY SIDE WITH AMADO GETTING TO THE metaphorical CLIMAX bc I sincerely doubt they let him bust, mid-robbery OF HIS STORY, CAN WE NOT SEE HOW CLEARLY THESE TWO WOMEN WERE THE ONES WHO JACKED AMADO OFF– NO WAIT THEY DECIDEDLY DID NOT DO THAT ALL OF AMADO’S SHIT, LIKE CAUGHT PAPI WITH HIS ACTUAL PANTS DOWN SKSJSB

and lest any of us were convinced that Lady "Hijueputa Mandona Esa" who hates Griselda wasn't the one holding the gun on Toque, telling Amado she's gonna have her friend chew clear through his disco stick like some froot by the foot, please refer to exhibit B here ☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️where she's manspreading for jesus in these fucking hot pants. I mean try to tell me that ain't power. c'mon

AND THEN THE WAY SHE FUCKINGSLDFKJSL HUSTLES DARIO FOR EXTRA CASH, ALL "you gotta pay me more than that pittance bc yeah, she were a mouthy bitch but I didn't hate her that bad" ensuring he had no choice but to leave a tip, just like our pobre mujeriego, himbo extraordinaire, Sleazy!OG!Amado

And if this isn't the most iconic reminder to tip your servers, folks which everyone should be doing already I truly don't know what is.

═

taglist: @ashlingnarcos @tofuwildcard @narcolini @drabbles-mc

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

HIIIIII HAPPY MIGUETRI MONDAY!!! It was only a matter of time before my post-S6 shitposting about them started, I fear ^^;

ANYWAYS I was thinking about this mlm-ass hoodie everyone is talking about, and I need to yap about my own headcanon about it. Bear with me!!!

So tbh this seems like...a really weird wardrobe choice to me. Miguel is, imho, the closest thing this cast of characters has to a Token Straight Guy™️. (Like I know I kinda ship him with Demetri or in a poly Miguetreli arrangement, but I'm mostly clowning! It's kind of an AU for me because to me he doesn't actually read as queer in canon.)

But this hoodie is just. Undeniably the gay mlm flag??? Plain and simple??? Out of all the characters to put in this article of clothing, this is baffling me the most. Especially showing him in it while he trains with his long-term girlfriend who he loves very much???

(Side note: I feel like Miguel is aware of what the mlm flag looks like. Moon told him about all the pride flags! Although him accidentally buying a gay pride flag hoodie would in fact be very funny, it doesn't strike me as particularly likely.)

So here's what I'm thinking: This is not a hoodie Miguel Diaz bought. It was a gift from Demetri.

If anyone's been following me for a while, they might have heard me talk about how I think queerness runs in Demetri's family. He seems to have a single mom, and he's never once mentioned his dad. It's very much giving "lesbian woman who didn't realize her sexuality until she already had a kid with a man, for better or for worse." And Demetri's dad being gone...maybe he left Demetri's mom because he was gay??? Or left her FOR a man, perhaps??? I think Demetri's parents 100% had him during a lavender marriage they may or may not have even REALIZED was a lavender marriage.

Anyways, these are just my wild little headcanons, but I do think Demetri's mom has always known he's gay. She sees a lot of herself and Dem's dad in him, and she doesn't want him to make the same mistakes she did and wait until middle age to finally accept his sexuality. SO, naturally, she starts trying to nudge him toward...Realizing Some Things. Including buying and gifting him a fucking gay flag hoodie. Because, like her son, Mrs. Alexopoulos lacks any and all subtlety.

Demetri realizes what she's trying to do, but he pretends he doesn't. He's all "Wow! Thanks! I love the colors!" and then proceeds to never wear this item of clothing to school ever because the poor man gets bullied for enough already. He wears it in private and maybe to the grocery store or something, but not where he'll be around other kids (except maybe Eli, who he has definitely bitched about this at length to. "UGH, why does everyone think I am gay, I am NOT gay!!! I like women, Eli!!! I totally want Yasmine to spit in my face!!! I also want to make out with and exchange handjobs with women, I promise!!! No, I'm not getting defensive!!!"). Hence why we have not seen The Gay Flag Hoodie until now.

Flash forward to The Karate Wars. Demetri has started training on the regular and has grown MASSIVELY, especially his fucking shoulders. Tragically, they are now too broad and jacked and he is too much of an Absolute Unit to fit into the mlm flag hoodie anymore 💔 But it's still perfectly good!!! Quite comfortable and honestly barely worn! So what does Demetri do????

He gives it to his bestie like the generous closeted hero he is.

Miguel is aware he's wearing the mlm flag, by the way. He is okay with this. This is his way of showing he's an ally! Although it WOULD lead to a very amusing conversation with Sam when they first meet up to train.

Sam, eyeing the mlm flag hoodie dubiously: Miguel, um...is there something you wanted to tell me? Miguel: Oh! It was a present from Demetri! Sam, who also absolutely knows What's Up here: ...no explanation necessary, actually.

[thegreymoon]

The Story of Minglan

Oh, Minglan.

This is what happens when you take the attitude of "It's no big deal if my husband sleeps with morally questionable other women." 🙄

I am fully on his side on this issue but I feel like hasn't done a good enough job of expressing just how disgusting he personally finds these concubines that everyone keeps trying to force on him. Minglan has been brainwashed by the patriarchy and it will take her a while to find her ground and feel secure enough to put her foot down, but what is stopping him from advocating for himself?

My guy, just say NO.

***

LMAO, he's the ruthless and stupid one?

Chang'er's death is his fault? I cannot with this evil narcissist.

***

Fuck you.

Maybe if your garbage ass had not kidnapped him, he wouldn't have gotten sick. And if he had, they would have been able to afford a doctor.

***

I hope he really rips her limb from limb.

The more I see of her and of Lin Qinshuang, the more valid I find Mo Ran for deep-frying fucking Song Qiutong.

***

Unfortunately, Minglan talked him out of torturing her to death 😕

***

LOL, let's hope that at least the piece of shit maternal uncle gets tortured.

***

Please tell me we will get to see a beheading 😭

I am so sick and tired of these people. They have been trying to murder Gu Tingye for fifty episodes now. I am so done 😭😭

***

I love it when cats make guest appearances in dramas 💙

***

Hell person.

***

In general, I am not pleased with how this story has handled Manniang and her children. It all seems sanitised and on easy mode for Minglan because the true circumstances of him having this whole family before marrying her diminishes the romance as it is and making it any more realistic would probably have snapped a lot of people out of rooting for the main couple because they could no longer idealise it.

I mean, look at this:

If this show was realistic, the odds are that Rong-jie, with a vindictive, abusive, neglectful biological mother who abandoned her like this, would have taken all that trauma out on Minglan because this is how kids tend to react in such situations. She would have given her stepmother hell because she was there and a convenient target, while the narcissistic, toxic, neglectful bio mother was not.

Also, killing Chang-er is the writers taking the easy way out because now they have eliminated Gu Tingye's eldest son and possible heir from competing with Minglan's children for the title and the wealth. It's such a cop-out. With Chang-er in the picture, the only way Minglan's children could inherit would be if Gu Tingye refused to acknowledge him as a son, which would absolutely destroy his image and tank the character in the eyes of the viewers.

This way, Minlgan's children get all the benefits without her having to fight for them at the detriment of Tingye's older children and Tingye gets to preserve his image of a doting and responsible father, putting all the negative connotations of his irresponsible first common-law marriage onto the evil Manniang. Gu Tingye and Minglan maintain their noble images and Manniang is scapegoated to enable this. It just leaves me feeling a lot of ick.

It may be unfair of me, but I respect the writing on this show a whole lot less because of these decisions. The truth is, overall, this drama is better written than 99% of other dramas so I feel extremely weird getting hung up on this and letting it get so magnified in my head, but I feel like the fact that the rest of this drama is so realistic and well-written works against them here. There are standards here that were set and I am expecting the rest of the story to proceed on that level, but these standards are no longer being met because meeting them implies compromising the untarnished image of the main characters. It is so convenient and such an obvious cop-out, that I genuinely feel swindled and somewhat salty about it.

***

So selfish and so fucking evil.

What did Rong-jie ever do to her?

She is the one who abandoned her, she's the one who took the boy out and caused his death. She will just blame anyone except herself for her shit selfish decisions.

***

WTF.

Rong-jie is going to need so much therapy, which is unfortunately not a thing in Song Dynasty China.

***

Fucking finally, some good decisions.

***

Oh, yeah, Xiaotao and Shito are definitely a thing.

***

So gorgeous 🧡

Definitely a potential reference pic.

***

She is the poster child for an untreated personality disorder.

I'm so glad I live in the XXI century where mental health care is available, not that it prevents a whole lot of people from still acting like this and blowing up entire lives.

***

Don't you worry, evildoer, your comeuppance is also coming!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Snake Eyes 5

Warnings: noncon, coercion, manipulation. Proceed with caution.

Note: thanks all for reading and I hope you’re excited for this one. All feedback is more than welcome and loved and appreciated. Reblogs are most helpful.

Part of The Club AU

The service industry is less than formal. There’s not much red tape in the hiring process and less administrative restraints. So, after a short video interview with Sif, you accept a job for the weekend. It’s not entirely your choice of venue, a yacht, but the pay even before gratuity is enough to convince you.

More peculiar about the job is that it’s not a single night. You’re slated to work through the weekend at breakfast, lunch and dinner. It beats handing out shots to tipsy coeds; these wealthy investors will have deeper pockets.

So much for being destitute all at the whim of that snake. It’s the nature of the business. Gigs don’t last long and when they do, you’re miserable. If it was up to you, you’d be working at one of the upscale cocktail bars in the downtown core but they rarely open up applications.

You pack a bag and take your time getting ready. There’s a dress code of course. All black, no pants. You know these sorts of events. They only hire women and their purpose is more than serving, they have to be nice to look at. Well, you can doll yourself up.

You put on a sleek halter blouses with a leather skirt. You’ll sweat your ass off but it’s what you got. You have just enough outfits to last you through two days. Oh, and some anti-nausea meds to counteract the sea sickness.

The job will reimburse you for the cost of the uber. You don’t think you’ve ever been to the dock. You weren’t a part of the college crowd with their party boats and aren’t generally a fan of being on the water. You tip the driver on your phone as you get out and look around.

There are two other girls in black hovering around. You approach them, assuming they're in the same boat as you. The pun barely worth thinking. 

“Hey, um, are you meeting Sif?” You ask.

“You must be the new girl,” they look at you with their drawn on brows, “Tara,” the tall redhead introduces herself.

“Zadie,” the shorter woman with the spiral curls flicks her lashes derisively.

You offer your name in return, sensing their coolness. They’ve worked together a while, that means you’re the rookie, you have to prove yourself. That isn’t difficult, you have faith in your own skills.

“You’re pretty,” Tara preens, “love the gloss.”

“Thanks,” you accept the compliment.

“I could never pull that shade off,” she continues, “very harsh.”

You nod and force a smile. You’re sure that is only the beginning of your act. You shoulder your bag and turn on your heel listlessly. You’re not here to make friends.

“Girls,” Sif’s heels draw your attention as they click across the dock, “thank you for waiting. The captain was a bit late with his safety review. Ugh, so we have to hurry with set up. The investors will be arriving shortly. Can’t have you standing out here like a bunch of stray cats.”

“What happened to Katie?” Zadie asks as she steps forward first.

“She’s at her sister’s wedding,” Sif returns smoothly, “don’t worry, she’s vetted and very capable,” the dark haired woman gives you an appraising look, “you might learn a few things, Zee.”

Zadie rolls her eyes and Tara grins over her shoulder, trying to hide her amusement. You shrug and follow them towards the boarding ramp. Right, just don’t think about the water.

🍸

The boat is a flurry. After you are shown your cramped cabin, leaving your bag on the bed, you are taken to the gala deck. There, you are acquainted with the bar and set to your prep. The familiarity of the work welcomes you in and your nerves calm even as the subtle swell of the water rocks the ship.

As you work in tandem with the other girls, the lights adjust and music begins to waft around the space. You look out at the tables, set and ready for diners. It seems a rather overdone event. You’re not sure if you had yacht money, you would waste it on these pompous displays. Maybe that’s why you don’t have any money.

The first investors begin to trickle in. You hear Sif’s voice rise above the building din as she beckons them in and shows them their seats. Some sort of auction for charity. Funny, how these things are always fundraisers…

As the crowd burgeons in, the first patrons of the night come by the bar. Tara elbows past you to take the lead. You let her. You know her type. They approach the job like a competition. No use playing that game.

“Miss, a drink,” you hear from your left. You turn to greet the man, his silty tone only registering once you face him. Loki smirks as he drapes his arm over the trim, “I believe you know my preference.”

You withhold a scowl. You don’t know how to respond. You can’t scream at him so you turn and begin to put together a dry martini. You feel him watching you. Of course, he’s one of them.

“Mr. Laufeyson,” Zadie comes up behind you, “nice to see you.”

“You too,” he says silkily.

“Hon, why don’t you let me take over for Mr. Laufeyson?” She offers as she touches your arm.

“She’s got it,” he shoos her with his fingers.

You present him the tall glass and meet his eye. He watches you with that imperious gloating grin. He reaches for it, sliding it closer with two fingers around the stem.

“Now I should be suitably bolstered to face my guests,” he declares. You squint at him, his guests? “Darling, should you require anything, you know you only need ask. I do take pride in accommodating my staff well.”

You blink, lips sealed and tight. His eyes rove up and down as he lifts his martini, “cheers.” He takes a sip and winks, before spinning on his heel and strutting off. You should’ve known it was all too easy.

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Girl Squad: Assemble!

So I was staying with my sister for a week in July, and the entire time I was there, she was trying to cram this book into my hands. I was super leery because I had read ACOWAR, but I finally acquiesced--mostly on the strength of the little bits of Nessian from ACOWAR that I had enjoyed.

Reader...

I was absolutely floored by this book. It was leaps and bounds better than ACOWAR, and I found Nesta a way more interesting protagonist than Feyre. I also appreciated that she and Cassian weren't perfect off the jump; everyone got to make mistakes and everyone got to figure it out. I also adored the girl squad Nesta built for herself. So let's talk A Court of Silver Flames.

Hi, hello, welcome. This is your SPOILER WARNING. Proceed at your own risk.

One kind of cannot exist in book fandom spaces on the internet without knowing that ACOSF is a polarizing book. People love and hate Nesta, and there are legitimate, evidence- and text-based reasons for both sides. If you found Nessian to be Satan's Power Couple, this is not the review for you, because while both Nesta and Cassian are flawed characters, I enjoyed the hell out of them and this is going to be largely positive--although there are a couple of things we need to talk about that are less glowingly positive. But overall, I liked Nesta, and I liked her relationships with Cassian and her girl squad.

In terms of structure and sentence-level writing, this book was surprising. SJM still does that thing where she uses words that don't make either connotative or denotative sense (seriously, if Cassian's fly has stays in it, then something is DEEPLY wrong), but the pacing and structure of the plot and character arcs felt smoother and more intentional than the entirety of ACOWAR did, and there was just straight up more plot per page than ACOTAR or ACOMAF had. There was also more sex--and I know this is somewhat controversial too, but I defend this by noting that part of Nesta's coping ability with her trauma was to go hypersexual, so having her relationship with Cassian be extremely physical made sense in terms of Nesta's character arc. She even had a little monologue about the difference between fucking and lovemaking that I thought was actually really good for Nesta. Being able to identify different needs and contexts--as well as their inherent fluidity--was real growth for her emotionally. In general, I wasn't bored by this book the way I was by ACOTAR and I wasn't going "WTAF is happening" like I was with ACOWAR. Getting away from Rhys and Feyre seems to have really set SJM up to write a story, not her favorite ship, and I think readers can really see the difference.

At this point, I want to shift into character group/ship headings, because that's the easiest way to address the disparate parts of this book.

Nessian

Nessian is my favorite ship in the ACOTAR books, because Nesta and Cassian are interesting characters to watch, and they're allowed to fuck up and fix things. For example, Nesta is kind of godawful at communicating and following directions. She full-on does not stay in the tree, and almost gets herself murdered to death by "kelpies." She does also find the mask, so she gets a bit of leeway, but she gives Cassian more than a few hear attacks because she's prickly but has a soft gooey center that she is often acting out to protect. She would literally cut her own nose off to spite her face before admitting that's what she's doing, but that's very much what is happening for her. And Cassian is smart enough to eventually figure out what Nesta is doing.

My favorite example of THAT is when Cassian puts together than Nesta pissed off Clotho specifically to get his ass in the library long enough to show off his teaching skills and methods to prove that he's a safe person to all the women in the library. He's literally walking out the door afterward when the penny drops and it's adorable. This isn't to say he never screws up, though.

He REALLY fucks up when Nesta spills the baby wings beans. Did we need to push Nesta to the point of literal physical collapse on that hike? No, no we did not. That was fucked up, my dude. But they do talk it out and they work through it. What they don't ever really work through is Cassian being in the worst possible position in the Nesta-Rhys relationship. Cassian is a murder himbo (affectionate). Off the battlefield, he's a cute slab of muscle with a single brain cell and a good heart. He is also deeply tied to Rhys in a way that is perhaps not entirely healthy, so he absolutely goes back and forth between putting Nesta first and putting Rhys first. Which is messy and uncomfortable and gets baby ex machina-ed at the end rather than actually sorted out. Like, the worst, most toxic part of the Nessian ship is Rhysand and the Inner Circle. And that never really gets resolved because Cass will never leave the Inner Circle, and Nesta is never going to be fully accepted in it.

Despite that, however, I do love that Cassian arrives at the point of trusting Nesta to the point where he trusts that she can girlboss HERSELF out of the Blood Rite. We all know that if that had been Feysand, Rhys would have broken every rule ever and hung the consequences. I love that Cassian is actually held to the rules and has to trust Nesta and his relationship with her and their (admittedly rocky) past to get her out of that situation alive. And she ultimately chooses him again and hauls his ass out of the fire too. They just complement each other well, and I enjoyed watching them negotiate the relationship--even if I missed the mate bond snapping into place entirely because what even WAS that writing, SJM???

I know that some fans criticize the pattern of "solve your depression and trauma with hiking and combat training" in the ACOTAR books, but I found that it made more sense for Nesta than it ever did for Feyre. Nesta has a deep desire for control and enough power not to feel helpless. She's also got a genuinely good sense of "the most good for the greatest number of people," and that plus her general boyfriend makes it make sense that she would end up reforming the Valkyries.

Nesta's Girl Squad

Which brings us nicely to Nesta's girl squad. I absolutely ADORE that Nesta goes out and finds friends outside the Inner Circle. Her relationship with the Inner Circle is toxic on a GOOD day, and they quite simply cannot support Nesta in the way she needs to be supported. So Nesta goes out and finds people who can and will.

Gwyn and Emerie are really fun characters, and the best parts of the girl squad for me were not so much the Valkyrie training (although I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy that) but the parts where the three reclaim the parts of girlhood and girl friendship that they were denied. They have a SLEEPOVER. They make plot-relevant FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS. They SHARE SMUTTY ROMANCE NOVELS and TALK ABOUT THEM. Literally this is the most wholesome relationship and it's a genuine treat to see Nesta form bonds outside of the fate of Prythian and her sister's complicated in-laws. This was probably the part of the book that I loved best (yeah, possibly even more than Nessian being Nessian), because we finally got away from the toxic sniping from Mor, the sheer evil of Ianthe and Amarantha, and the deeply fucked-up sibling relationship between Nesta and Feyre.

The girl squad just likes and supports each other.

That happens rarely enough in books that where there are strong, positive bonds among female characters, I always love it. Did Emerie and Gwyn get the amount and depth of development I'd have liked? No. Was that justified? Yeah, kind of. It was Nessian's book, it's a romance, and the fact that we even GOT a girl squad in a straight romance is a win as far as I'm concerned. Did it start as a trauma pack bond? Also yes, but like...that's just on-brand for ACOTAR, and at least Nesta's girl squad does the work of dealing with and processing their trauma.

*Side eyes the hundreds of years that Mor, Az, and Cass have been sidestepping around whatever the fuck their little triangle is*

The Feysand Thing and Nesta

Ok. I know why we had to have Feysand in this book. Plot reasons are a valid reason to include characters. That said...the pregnancy subplot was too stupid for words. It turns Rhysand--who I was already not enamored with after ACOWAR--into a patriarchal anti-choice asshole. It's Feyre's body, she gets to have 100% of the information about what it's doing and what her options are. And Rhys, dear, if you're too much of a coward to "take away Feyre's happiness" by telling her that giving birth is almost certain to kill her, make the healer do it. Yell, scream, and beat your chest, if that makes you feel better about it, but FOR FUCKS SAKE, tell her what's going on with the pregnancy. There was an opportunity to have a real conversation about abortion (because apparently C-sections aren't a thing in Velaris), but SJM didn't bother taking it. Instead we were stuck with a STUPIDLY overprotective and stressed Rhys. He is a massive dick to Nesta for this whole book, he's protective to the point of literal murder (which is not a good look), and frankly Nesta having to save his entire family's lives for him to stop literally wanting her dead feels...icky.

Also, I cannot not be on Amren's side over the stupid death pact that Feyre and Rhysand made. That was somehow EVEN STUPIDER than the pregnancy subplot, and uh...were I a citizen of Velaris, I would not be super happy with how the succession of the court is set up OR the fact that my 500-year-old High Lord thought that making a death pact with a 20-something who has a high-risk pregnancy was a good idea. Like...there are no brain cells at work here.

Nesta might not have had the best of intentions when she tells Feyre that Rhys has been lying to her and she's probably going to die, but like...FEYRE HAD A RIGHT TO KNOW. And If Rhys had balls, he'd have been the one to tell her or arrange for the healer to tell her.

Literally Nesta and Rhysand are never going to be friends, and that's FINE. But Nesta should not have to live with his bullshit.

Nesta and the House of Winds

Nesta has a pet magic house. It's amazing, I wouldn't change a thing.

The Stays Thing

There have been multiple posts about this on my blog, but of all the "words mean things" crimes SJM has committed in her books, the one that goes "Cassian's cock strained against the stays and buttons of his pants" is absolutely the worst one. For context, these are stays:

Stays are a boned support garment for the upper body that have historically been worn by people with breasts. I have no idea how you'd even BEGIN to put a pair of stays in the fly of a pair of pants, but if SJM meant that Cassian was straining against his own type of support garment, then the word she wanted was "jockstrap." She could even have gone with "cup" or "athletic supporter." Literally any word that describes a garment that keeps penises from flopping wildly about during physical exercise would have worked here, but nooooooo, we got "stays." I might actually be madder about this than I was about the use if "twist" in ACOWAR, because at least with that one, the word was in the ballpark.

Literally all my friends have heard this rant, but the winning response was from my sister who looked at me and went, "When I read it, I assumed they were the things that made his pants stays [sic] up."

Reader, she got the screech of rage she wanted from me with that response.

Nesta's Death Magic

Ok, I am so deeply conflicted about how Nesta's death magic was handled in the book. This idea had so much potential and some HELLA cool moments, but I can't say that I love that she gave up 99% of it at the end. I get why, and I even get that Nesta was probably more comfortable without the phenomenal cosmic powers, but the execution kind of felt like it was one more thing she had to surrender to not poke holes in Rhysand's fragile-ass ego. IDK, I'm conflicted, and your mileage may vary, but I didnt want to not mention the badass powers and Nesta's sheer force of will in controlling and directing it.

Overall though, I thoroughly enjoyed Nesta's book, and I would absolutely recommend reading this one. It's an SJM book, so you're getting a fair number of expected flaws with it, but in and around those flaws, there are interesting characters and a compelling story.

[tenshiblogposts]

Hawks x reader

Character: Tamaki Keigo / Hawks

Fandom: my hero academia.

Warnings: yandere themes, mentions of drug usage, minor character death, the pic at the end is related to said death so please proceed with caution.

Additional note: This is set in the Ancient Greek era. Might be historically inaccurate.

Also I feel like I half assed this but idk🤷🏻‍♀️

Yandere general!Hawks who from the moment he laid his eyes on you, while you were washing clothes in the river, he couldn't think about anything else.

Yandere general!Hawks who changed his ways when it came to women, he stopped sleeping around, and tried his hardest to be faithful. Although you didn't even know about his feelings for you.

Yandere general!Hawks who built a fantasy, that he so believed it was a reality, about you being madly in love with him, waiting for him every time he went to war and giving him as many children as your tantalizing body could handle.

Yandere general!Hawks who kept a very close eye on you stalking you, making sure that nobody was trying to make a stupid move on you. Nobody touches what's his.

Yandere general!Hawks who wiggled his way into your family's heart, and hopefully yours.

Yandere general!Hawks who made his presence known in your life. He stuck to you like a shadow, you must be grateful for him.

Yandere general!Hawks who had a lot of opportunities to take you away from this cruel world, to keep you safe and to himself, but decided against it. For now.

Yandere general!Hawks who brought war trophies with him for you, ranging from golden jewelry to the hearts of his enemies. He know that you'll keep them close to your pretty little heart.

Yandere general!Hawks who noticed a suspicious guy around you,smiling and laughing about one thing or another and you responding back, but you would never betray him. He knows it, he's sure of it.

Yandere general!Hawks who spotted the same guy hovering around your home in the middle of the night.

Yandere general!Hawks who saw red once you climbed down your window to meet with said guy, even daring to kiss him! Oh no! Was the guy forcing you to be with him? He can't have that!

Yandere general!Hawks who nearly abandoned his duties to make sure that you were safe, there's no way in hell he would let that scum control you! You were his and his alone!

Yandere general!Hawks who tried harder to keep tabs on everyone and everything you interacted with, from the old guy managing the food stall, to the street cat you kept feeding everyday.

Yandere general!Hawks who returned to his senses. He wouldn't abandoned his position for you, no, he will use it for his own benefit.

Yandere warrior!Hawks who had decided that enough was enough, you would be his, whether you liked it or not.

Yandere general!Hawks who saw your worried pretty face when you didn't find the old guy at the same place like every day, and saw his wife crying, saying something about someone framing him and he was going to be executed the following day.

Yandere general!Hawks who felt satisfaction when the cat you oh so cared for wasn't there. The dogs will get extra treats today.

"I am the only one deserving of your attention, my Dove"

Yandere general!Hawks who was ready to kill anyone and anything, as long as he could gaze into your pretty eyes for as long as he wanted.

"And now, for the last obstacle"

Yandere general!Hawks who formed a solid plan.

Yandere general!Hawks who "accidentally" stumbled upon you in the market, and invited you for tea at his house.

Yandere general!Hawks who was giddy the entire way back to his house once you accepted his offer.

Yandere general!Hawks who drugged you, and tied you to a chair.

Yandere general!Hawks who waited patiently for you, to show you his great achievement. You'll surely appreciate it!

Yandere general!Hawks who had his biggest gift for in the confinements of his hands, and once he saw those captivating eyes of yours fluttering open, he presented the gift to you

"Don't worry, My Dove, I took care of your pesky problem, he will never hurt you again"

[pencil-peach]

G Witch Onscreen Text: Episode 14

Part 15! Of the G Witch! Onscreen Text Analysis! Where I transcribe and discuss! Onscreen Text! And also just generally analyze the episodes! When I have time!

We are on Episode 14! "What They Wish For!"

Click Here! To go back! To Episode 13! Or! Go to the Masterpost!

Or! If you'd like! Join me! Beneath the Cut! (This one is really long! Wow!)

Before we start, something I forgot to discuss at the end of last episode, but there's this moment when Prospera asks Miorine if she'll be friends with Suletta again after the investigation, and Miorine says that of course she will.

Afterwards, Prospera pauses and smiles before proceeding to discuss Quiet Zero with her. I like to think she was genuinely relieved for a second, knowing how much she means to Suletta. (And also it maybe makes her easier to manipulate too. It can be both. Tomatoes tomatoes.)

We learn here that Prospera had been in talks with Delling about Quiet Zero since before she sent Suletta to Asticassia. Something that always gets to me about the timeline of events regarding Quiet Zero is Delling's behavior in Episode 2 during the trial.

Clearly he was devoted to developing Quiet Zero, so what was his goal with the trial? Prospera seemed to act as if she genuinely needed to convince Delling to accept Aerial by blackmailing Vim, and Delling seemed to be genuine when he spoke of disposing Aerial and "Getting Rid Of" Suletta

Prospera even makes a face like she wasn't expecting this. Was Delling trying to find a way to proceed on QZ without making use of a Gundam, and Prospera purposefully went behind his back to proceed with the plan in her own way? Delling does say, "Right now, Quiet Zero is still MY project," to her, as if he thinks she's getting ahead of herself.

Or maybe he just didn't want Aerial to be at the school, and wanted it to increase its Permet Score in some backwater sectors in space, and was just going to pretend to get rid of it and ship Suletta and Aerial to some distant war front. Who knows!

Utterly meaningless little detail, but I'm learning Japanese and I wanted to point it out. The title of this episode is "What They Wish For," and in the original JP name, the word they use for "They" is "彼女たち" (kanojotachi), which is the "they" you use when referring to a group made up only of girls. If it's a group of men or men and women, you use "彼ら" (karera).

So the title here is most likely referring to Sophie and Suletta in regards to their duel. It's probably obvious but it's a neat little thing that doesn't translate 1 to 1.

At the GUND-ARM Inc booth, they've set up a little info tablet for the prosthetic legs. How cute! Wish it was legible.

OHHHHH FUUUUUUCKKK!!!!!! Rubbing hands down my face FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKK!!!!! Okay lets go.

TEXT: (TOP LEFT)

ASTICASSIA SCHOOL OF TECHNOLOGY Welcome to ASTICASSIA, a front for learning that cultivates the pilots, engineers, and managers on whom the future of the Benerit Group relies.

As a higher education facility operated by the Benerit Group, we train the personnel who will form the core of the space development business.

The Asticassia School of Technology is a higher education facility operated by the Benerit Group. It implements a boarding school system that teaches the basics of communal living, a highly advanced professional curriculum, and a comprehensive instructional program in which we have invested all the technological confidence and accomplishments that the Group has built up in the mobile suit industry. Here we train the personnel who will support the space development business in the future. *To enroll, recommendations from Benerit Group [investment?] companies are required.

Chairman of the school board: Delling Rembran.

(BOTTOM LEFT) (NIKAS STUPID ASS HAND IS IN THE WAY THIS IS MY BEST APPROXIMATION)

[Enrichment?] [School Grounds?]

In the educational front constructed at Front Sector 73, there are schoolhouse areas where students can study in state-of-the-art facilities, residential areas where a House system fosters cooperation as they eat and sleep alongside their comrades, and tactical testing sectors where they can perform combat exercises with mobile suits. Interfront Monorail systems are also installed for travel between areas, enabling smooth movement. The schoolhouse areas include facilities such as cafeterias where students can relax during breaks between classes, and training rooms to promote the maintenance of mental and physical fitness.

Curriculum Fostering Independence

[??] an educational policy of respecting our students' independence, the curriculum has adapted a system of free choice. In addition to compulsory subjects that are common to all three special courses, students can build their own curriculum, selecting from classes corresponding to the department in which they belong, making choices specific to the improvement of their personal skills.

Equipment Complete facilities and mobile suits

The Burion company's Demi Trainer is used for mobile suit training exercises at the school. There are also many mobile craft, and a full compliment of maintenance docks equipped with cutting-edge technology. Thus pilots and mechanics can perform their exercises in the most perfect environment and facilities. [Burion company's Demi Trainer]

(Righthand side)

Special Courses Three Special Courses

Three specialized courses have been established at the school. The "Piloting Department" develops high grade pilots, the "Mechanics Department" creates professionals in the maintenance of mobile suits and working equipment, and the "Management Strategy Department" trains experts in corporate management. In each of these three-year special courses, students learn from the ground up under the guidance of outstanding instructors.

1. Piloting

A course to develop "high-grade pilots" with outstanding skills as mobile suit pilots, able to participate in development projects and conduct instructional training for ordinary pilots. In addition to control techniques, their skills as pilots are cultivated from many different perspectives, including physical training and immersive courses to understand the construction of mobile suits and mobile craft. *Enrollment in this special course is limited to those with mobile suit operating experience.

2. Mechanics

A course to create professional mechanics and engineers who can handle the maintenance, repair, design, and development of mobile suits and mobile craft. Its aim is to train personnel skilled in fast and reliable maintenance, who can perform customization and tuning for different pilots and environments, as well as designing and developing new mobile suits and mobile craft. In addition to basic technology, this department also places great emphases on creativity

3. Management Strategy

A course that teaches the knowhow of corporate management. The curriculum has been designed to instill abilities that are indispensable for managers, such as information analysis skills, the foresight to anticipate the trends of the times, fast and accurate judgement, and management skills for motivating subordinates.

(The Curriculum section is incredibly blurry, as the blur effect on the screen in this shot seemingly increases from left to right for some reason. This section is already incredibly long, so for the sake of legibility (and my sanity) I'll omit them from this transcription for now. Apologies, I'll try and make a separate post giving my best guesses as to what they say later.)

HOKAY. During Nika's flashback where she talks about how the DOF allowed her to go to Asticassia, we see her reading an actual Asticassia info pamphlet. A lot of this is just reiterating info we already know, but we actually Do learn some new info that clarifies some things about how Asticassia works

We learn that in order to enroll in the school broadly, it's REQUIRED to have a recommendation from a Benerit Group verified company. It's not like a normal school where it simply increases your chances of getting admitted, it's a baseline requirement. That's why Nika, Sophie, and Norea needed fake companies only registered in the group by name.

Somewhat more importantly, we also get an explanation as to why there seem to be so few piloting students at Asticassia as opposed to the other 2 courses. It's because a student needs to have Mobile Suit operating experience as a PRE-REQUISITE to enroll for the course. Asticassia's Piloting program isn't a course where one can learn to be a pilot, it's a course that reinforces and improves the skills a pilot must already have. (A lot of other things make sense too, like, the fact that students are responsible for the support and repair of their own mobile suits, or that the school doesn't provide any mobile suits other than Demi Trainers for class.)

It's not new information, but now that I think about it the fact that Burion is the company that supplies Asticassia with its Demi Trainers is probably why Secelia and Rouji are allowed to be members of the Dueling Committee, despite their company not being in the upper echelon of the Group, nor either of them being piloting students themselves.

Nothing about the Dueling or Holder systems are explained in this pamphlet, at least, nothing on this page. Suletta didn't know anything about it before arriving to the school, so if I had to make a guess, I figure it's only something you learn once you get to the school. (Or maybe it's just...explained on another page.)

All the lovely things stated about the school's grounds and house system are really funny when you remember that Earth house looks like this.

I like this scene where Norea hands 5lan his phone back. She doesn't even hide the fact that she stole it, and then she reveals to him that he knows about him and his relationship to Peil (Probably because she read his email correspondence with them.) 5lan calmly takes it back, not to plussed about it, and probably not interested in even telling Peil the phone was stolen at all. They both say that the other is annoying. True love!

There's this bit where Suletta tells Sophie about her promise to Miorine, and she responds by calmly and emotionlessly repeating out loud everything she knows about her before cutting back to her usual outgoing personality. This is the only time we ever really see her do something like this. I wonder if this is something she does often when she's deep in thought about something.

In this scene, Suletta is also still unaware about the reality of the situation. She says she can't let Sophie win their duel because in her mind, if she does, she'll lose her status as Holder. When Sophie runs away, Suletta reaches out, telling her that they need to do the dueling vow. She doesn't understand what's really happening.

TEXT: RUMBLE RING The Rumble Ring, the main event of the Open Campus, is about to begin! All participating students, please report to the 9th Tactical Testing Sector. All viewers[...]

The Rumble Ring event screen. We never see the full thing so we don't know where the viewers are told to go. [Punches the wall in anger] FUCK!!!! WHY CANT WE KNOW!!!!!

Lauda says that the rumble ring will be the last thing he does before he becomes CEO of JHM. It's sad that he has to bear that burden on his own, but we later see that Petra was working as his assistant while he was CEO. It's sweet that she seemingly unenrolled too, just to follow him.

Couple of fun things about this scene, so, firstly, underneath the photos of Sabina and Renee, in the window, we can see Renee and Sabina's fans holding up signs and hearts and cheering them on.

The other is that, in this battle, Sabina and Renee are using different mobile suits. In the Earth House duel, the Grassley Girls were all using Beguir-Pentes, while in the Rumble Ring, Sabina and Renee using Heindrees. We can actually see that the UI on their photos has been updated to reflect this.

Now, this is clearly not, like, a standard thing, right? Like, we only ever see these specific Pre-Duel spreads for the Grassley Girls. Shaddiq himself doesn't even have one, so it's not like it's a Grassley thing. So that probably, definitely means that these are fanmade spreads, and there's either one, or a group of extremely dedicated Grassley Girl Fans who make them.

Oh, and because I didn't notice last time, all the Grassley Girls have a shape flourish around on their Duel Info. Sabina, Renee, and Henao all have a star, but Maisie and Ireesha have a heart.

A funny thing about the Rumble Ring (That you will only notice if you do some stupid thing like rewatching this show double digit number of times like I have.) Is that, when the 9th Tactical Testing Sector fades out into its simulated environment, it shows a dark, overcast sky. But during the actual Rumble Ring, the sky is clearly, um. Not that. This isn't a case of a prior animation having been used without edits either. Up to now, every single simulated environment has been unique, including this one. It seems there might've just been a miscommunication between the environment artists who were in charge of the simulator scene and the background artists responsible for the Rumble Ring scenes. Maybe nobody caught it or had time to fix it before the episode aired. I wonder if they fixed it in the Blu-ray version?

Unlike Guel's Dilanza, Lauda's isn't custom colored. It uses the same color of the base model. I wonder if he requested that.

When Norea targets Chuchu's cockpit, she receives an alert on her monitor saying ALERT YOUR COCKPIT IS BEING TARGETED. That's how she knows Norea had done it and managed to shield herself.

Rouji then states that they must not have the regulation program installed, so in addition to limiting beam output, the program also ensures an MS is unable to target an opposing MS' cockpit, so as to avoid a lethal attack.

I like that Secelia knows when to drop the snark and keep a steady head when it comes to people's safety.

Maybe I'm just a bit too sentimental, but there's something about this scene, where Chuchu is about to fully give into her wrath and follow the same path Norea went down, only to be brought to her senses by somebody yelling for help that really makes me mourn the time that G Witch didn't have to tell its story. Even just a little bit more time to explore that idea....ah well, it is what it is, and I still love this scene.

This is the screen that pulls up when Norea tries to contact Sophie and cant get a signal because she's out of range. But more interestingly, this is our first look at the Thorn (and presumably Ur)'s main menu (it's faded out behind the Communication mode UI)

It's the same as Aerial's! Not surprising, but pretty cool.

Sophie's death is kind of interesting when you think about it. At this point, Eri has produced a miniature data storm, and thus taken control of the Gundvolvas and the Ur.

But Sophie still pushes through and manages to maintain control of Ur, pushing herself closer and closer to Aerial, even still being able to defeat the now rogue Gundvolvas.

We learn later in Episode 22 that in order to maintain control of a Gundam in Eri's Data Storm, you have to clear Score 5. But Sophie's case is still somewhat different. When Suletta Pilots Calibarn, she's told that it doesn't have a filter for data storm feedback, but as a result can produce a higher score within the same amount of Permet.

That means that, despite Sophie and Suletta each having surpassed Score 5, Suletta in Calibarn is actually not being exposed to as much Permet as Sophie is in this scene. (Sophie and Suletta have a similar Permet Scar Pattern on their faces, but unlike Suletta, the Permet scars are running through Sophie's Eyes.)

And Sophie doesn't have Suletta's natural resistance to data storms either, so on top of that Permet Exposure, the Data Storm is frying her too.

Norea wasn't lying when she said that she died before Suletta could kill her.

This is scene is such a sad conclusion to her duel with Sophie. The whole fight, Sophie is forcing her to confront and ask herself uncomfortable questions.

When Sophie tells her why she kills, Suletta tells her it's wrong, that you can't kill other people just to get what you want, and then she remembers Miorine's horrified face, and remembers that she did the same thing to save her.

When Sophie forces her to ask herself what Aerial was built to do, what she needs all these weapons for, she freezes. She doesn't know the answer.

And when she sees that Sophie has died, Norea tells her to her face that Gundams will eventually kill anyone who continues to pilot them. Something her mother told her wasn't true.

But...when she talks to Aerial, she can only rationalize it by saying that Sophie had to be wrong. That Gundams are supposed to save people. Because that's what her mother told her. And above all else, at the core of Suletta's being, the very foundational idea that she has built her entire life up from is the belief that her mother loves her and would never lie to her.

Eri can only tell Suletta what she thinks will make her feel better. That it's okay, because she saved everybody. And Suletta agrees, because again, move forward gain two. Just like mom says. And just like that, all 3 of the uncomfortable ideas that Suletta had to confront during her duel with Sophie are completely shut down.

But even as she says that, with a smile on her face, she's crying. Deep down, she doesn't want to do this. Deep down, she knows that it's wrong. Deep down, she's in so much pain. But it's fine. It's okay, because even if it hurts, even if it's unbearable, it has to be right. It has to be right, because her mother is always right.

You could say a lot about Miorine's actions in episode 17, and maybe it wasn't the best way, but separating her from her mother was not a mistake.

Thank you for reaching the end of this part! Quite a long one huh??!??!?! I don't blame you if you couldn't finish this one...there was just so much to talk about!!!

For my final gift...

Erm...

Here's the theme that plays for a majority of Norea and Sophie's attack on Asticassia. This theme also plays a bit during the infiltration of Quiet Zero.

A fun fact about this episode is that it has one of the few Enemy/Non-Aerial Gundam battles that "Pharact" doesn't play at some point for. Click to go to Episode 15! >>

Click to go to the Masterpost! >>

[honey-tongued-devil]

Ur so real for that rant post girl. Too many people are comfortable complaining about (insert niche or underused trope) not being present in free content. The complaint that there is 'too many' afab/women/generally fem leaning readers or whatever in fanfic is honestly so fucking stupid. Fanfiction and fandom spaces in general tend to be predominately populated by those kinds of ppl, then others are shocked when most of the art and writing is centered around those groups of ppl. The thing you mentioned with the ''thIs ChAraCtEr iS oBviOusLy GaY'' crowd that thinks their personal hc is gospel is suuuppperr annoying. Ive seen it with both silco and victor from arcane, if its a femreader or character you ship them with bitches go ballistic over some pixels that according to them are clearly gay or something. Even with characters like astarion who are cannonically attracted to women it happens.

Ppl are even bitter enough to post things like '' *insert character* x fem!reader hc: He leaves you for a man '' then proceed to not male reader stuff themselves but will whine and shit their pants over the lack of male or amab creations. Like the math aint mathing. At the end of the day you dont get to complain about free art and writing not catering to your specific taste, fan works are made by people not content cows. If you want something written, write it ya self.

I’m honestly confused that I haven’t received backlash, but I guess they’ve just chosen to ignore me (especially since even in the comments, people seem to agree with me).

Regarding people pushing headcanons: I swear, my patience is at zero. I was blocked en masse for drawing Astarion with myself because “Astarion is obviously gay.” As if I didn’t pay my €60 for the game and didn’t do the romance route with him—who is canonically bisexual. No character has a declared sexuality, except for a few in BG3, but even then, it’s apparently never enough, and people will still hassle you. This applies to Astarion, Silco, and literally any character.

And, as someone wrote in the comments: “He’s obviously gay because he’s flamboyant is not the hot take you think it is; it’s just a harmful stereotype."

+ I’ll happily repeat what I’ve said in the comments: I’m AFAB, a lesbian, and non-binary. I walk around in heels and a second-hand pink faux-fur coat. I could write a reader that reflects me, but I don’t. I choose to write neutral readers or tackle other issues because I’m the first to think representation matters. I’ve been there, reading things and never finding myself represented. But—and this is a big “but”—I’m a small artist who, unironically, starts creating art non-stop at 9 AM. I’m not paid unless someone decides to support me. Everything I make is for me.

If someone makes a request that inspires me and I have time, I might do it. I draw things and post them. I work for free, which means nobody has the god-given right to harass me.

Want to complain about representation? Take it up with Netflix or another big corporation, not with me—a 24-year-old Italian recent graduate who, instead of minding her own business, spends her time creating free content. Especially because, when I make fanart that focuses solely on the characters I like, nobody cares that I’m a femme in the fandom. But the moment I draw myself with a character, suddenly there are too many women and too much content for them, and I become a problem.

I’m not going to draw things I have zero interest in just because someone else can’t be bothered to make it themselves. Especially when my inbox is full of over 100 requests from people who ask politely and behave respectfully even if I can’t fulfill their requests. The issue here is that someone has convinced you (not you op, I'm happy to yap) it’s your right to be misogynistic and a pain in the ass, and that’s just not the case.

[dustedmagazine]

Music for Films, Vol. IV: Once upon a Time…in Benedict Canyon or, Tarantino, Redux

(N.B., I wrote an earlier piece in this series about Quentin Tarantino’s Death Proof [2007], which seemed to me to represent the apotheosis of that director’s postmodern sensibility, for cinema and for its use of pop music. That still seems accurate to me. But Tarantino’s Once upon a Time…in Hollywood [2019] turns out to be a much more interesting engagement with both of those aspects of his filmmaking, and with postmodernism, generally — and it’s also a film I admire a bit more. So we go around again. If, however, you are sick of Tarantino and of chatter about his films, I get it. For sure, he’s irritating as hell in interviews — and below, I start with some of my own irritation at his winking and ironical guffawing. But, as is the case with someone like Richard Hell, it’s useful to separate the man from the work, and if you can pull that off, the work can be pretty great.)

There are moments in Once upon a Time…in Hollywood at which Quentin Tarantino’s auto-referentiality tips over from risible cleverness into unsavory self-obsession. See the scene about 80 minutes into the film, during which Cliff Booth (Brad Pitt, effortlessly cool) finally picks up the always hitching and emphatically sexually available Pussycat (Margaret Qualley, breathlessly feral). After they connect on their shared histories with Spahn Movie Ranch, Pussycat settles into the Coupe de Ville’s massive bench seat and, inevitably, puts her feet up on the dash. Her toes smush into the windshield; the bottoms of her feet are filthy. You can just about feel Tarantino hyperventilating — or maybe he’s laughing his ass off at us. Tarantino and feet, it’s an exhausted punchline by now. And the moment is almost a direct quotation, a visually inverted rendition of the opening shot of the narrative portion of Death Proof, in which Butterfly’s (Vanessa Ferlito) feet rest on the dash of Shanna’s (Jordan Ladd) Honda Civic. Tarantino seems to want you to make the connection, and, perhaps, to feel a little bit gross about the fact that you can.

The whole scene is shot through with problematic erotic energies, generated less so by Pussycat’s directness (“Obviously I’m not too young to fuck you, but obviously you are too old to fuck me”), more so by Cliff’s reasons for not pursuing her (“What I’m too old to do is go to jail for poontang”). And Tarantino has Dee Clark’s “Hey Little Girl” lasciviously jangling from the Coupe de Ville’s radio: “Hey little girl in the high school sweater / Gee, but I’d like to know you better / Just a-swinging your books and chewing gum / A-looking just like a juicy plum.” Gee. I get the crassness of the choice, which provides an intensification of the more playful song accompanying Cliff’s first look at Pussycat on a different LA street (and about 63 minutes earlier in the film), Simon & Garfunkel’s “Mrs. Robinson.” With all the signaling, ogling and panting, it’s easy to forget the song that immediately proceeds “Hey Little Girl,” sonically framing the initial gestures of Cliff and Pussycat’s conversation.

The song is typical of Neil Diamond’s peculiar talent for constructing gravid schmaltz that is neither too serious nor too cloyingly mawkish (mostly, anyways). That emotional tonality seems a less than intuitive choice for Cliff and Pussycat’s encounter — until we remember why she wants a lift to Spahn Ranch, and who might be there to meet them. Diamond’s Brother Love is a religious huckster, a metaphysical con man, and so, in part, was Charles Manson, a wannabe acid-soaked Svengali who managed to bewitch more folks than seems believable. Pussycat’s passionate desire for Cliff to meet him (“Charlie is reeeeally gonna dig you”) suggests Manson’s poisonous influence over her. She is thus the fictional avatar of numerous women and girls, like Mary Brunner, Susan Atkins and Squeaky Fromme, who fell under Manson’s influence, utterly convinced of his psychic and prophetic powers.

Manson, as is widely known, was erstwhile friends with Beach Boy Dennis Wilson and with producer Terry Melcher. Manson first went to the house at 10050 Cielo Drive, where Manson Family members would eventually murder Sharon Tate and several others, looking for Melcher. Manson was attempting a career as sort of demented folksinger manque, and he wanted to bug Melcher about it. By 1969 Melcher was coasting on the rep he had built producing the Byrds’ hit records from 1965 and most of Paul Revere & the Raiders’ sides from 1965 to 1968 (and that band’s singer Mark Lindsay also briefly lived at 10050 Cielo), including this tune:

Watching Sharon Tate (Margot Robbie) bounce around the room is a charming experience, and Robbie’s still-youthful beauty is an interesting counterpoint to the aesthetic pleasures of Pitt’s middle-aged body. In truth, Robbie isn’t given all that much to do in Once Upon a Time…in Hollywood; mostly Tarantino seems to have told her, “Okay, be adorable” (though we should also note that it isn’t hugely easy to be adorable on demand). There may be an intent in that: to revise the dominant filmic profile on Tate, the sex kitten in Valley of the Dolls (1967) and half-naked beach bunny in Don’t Make Waves (1967), presentations underscored by a nude-photo-supplemented article on the actor in Playboy. Tarantino renders Tate beautiful — not much else one can do with Robbie — but never insists on her as a libidinally charged presence (save for a shot or two of her feet …).

Hence the smart choice of the Paul Revere & the Raiders tune. Their goofy costumes and bright vocal harmonies cast them very much in the mold of the British Invasion, with Beatles-ish overtones of mop-topped sweetness, and the explicitly anti-dope messaging of the band’s hit “Kicks” further associated them with a cleaned-up vibe, distinct from druggy counterculture. In the film, Tate teases Jay Sebring (Emile Hirsch), “Aw, what’s the matter? You afraid I’ll tell your friend Jim Morrison you were dancing to Paul Revere & the Raiders?” Morrison doesn’t appear in the movie, but in just another minute of screen time, Manson (Damon Herriman) does. Sebring stops him at the front door of 10050 Cielo, and when Tate approaches (walking past a massive reproduction of a poster for Don’t Make Waves, Tarantino just can’t help himself), Sebring tells her, “It’s okay, honey, it’s a friend of Terry’s.”

Of course, the arc of history tells us that it’s not okay. The sheen of good feeling and innocent kicks pop culture was attempting to sell in the late Sixties had been mussed up by all the “fucking hippies” that Cliff and Rick Dalton (Leo DiCaprio) continuously curse at as they drive the Strip. Even Spahn Ranch, in the film formerly the production site for Dalton’s hit cowboy show Bounty Law!, has been overrun by Manson’s accumulating freaks. That’s another historical fact that Tarantino lovingly recreates, reducing the Ranch to a relic, a dusty ghost town haunted by sweaty, fried, raggedy heads and a legion of young women, Pussycat among them (Dakota Fanning turns in a terrific performance as Squeaky: paranoid, overheated, drenched in weird, wanton ambiguities).

Their presence is disorienting, but it can’t entirely dislodge the visual logic of the cowboy film, the Western. In part, that’s due to the sheer amount of time the film devotes to painstaking reconstructions of Westerns, in cinema and TV, in LA and Italy; see especially all the minutes of Dalton on set, filming his guest appearance for the pilot of Lancer, a Western that ran on CBS through the late 1960s (and we should note that Bruce Dern, who portrays George Spahn in Tarantino’s film, did some work on Lancer early in his career). But the more interesting nods and allusions to the Western cluster around Cliff: buckling on a holster-style work belt when he fixes Rick’s TV antenna; staring down the line-up of Manson Family women who gather across the dirt lane in Spahn Ranch, like bandits inviting a gunfight; and most emphatically, his shoot-out-style stand-off with Tex Watson (Austin Butler, and more on that just below). Appropriately, when Cliff gets his first few minutes of solo camera time early on in the film, Tarantino scores it with a song that works through numerous tropes of the Western antihero.

Some might assert that a Gram Parsons tune would better suit both the Western style and LA in 1969. But I’ll argue for the Seger song, even though it was recorded when he styled his band as the Bob Seger System, not yet the Silver Bullet Band (which would get us semiotically closer to the gun and the cowboy). “Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Man” (1969) is certainly a rhythmic match for Cliff, as he careens through the city’s streets and freeways in his beat-to-shit Karmann Ghia. And check out the lyrics: a tale of a “ramblin’ man” who left home at thirteen; a past-master of roulette and dice; rugged and a little ugly, but full of macho sexual confidence. All he needs is the horse. Most significant, the song’s lyric speaker eventually notes, “Gotta keep moving, never gonna slow down / You can have your funky world, see you around.” That’s Cliff to a tee, but it’s also Sergio Leone’s Man with No Name, who is always ready to ditch the scene when the civilized world becomes too much its petulant, cynical self. Better out in the bush, among the cacti and canyons. And while the usage of “funky” seems a poor fit for a cowboy’s mouth, it’s right on point for the film’s take on LA, as it lurches into counterculture’s violent dissolution.

It's unfair to counterculture to peg that dissolution to the Tate-Labianca murders. We can more meaningfully reference the 1970 explosion at 18 West 11th Street in NYC, or Eldridge Cleaver’s fugitive conversion to evangelical Christianity, or Altamont, or any number of other events, betrayals and tragedies. But the Manson Family’s perverted use of countercultural language (“revolution,” “the pigs,” “grokking”) is particularly galling in its confusions and lunatic bloody mindedness. Tarantino is tuned into it: see Sadie’s (Mikey Madison) deranged rant about “pigs” and “fascists.” Even a year earlier, other speakers were using the terms with much greater clarity, and many of those speakers were black.

So what do we do with this:

Black confronts white. Bad guys threaten good guy. The stand-off morphs into a massacre, but not before Cliff brings up the Western again, reminding us of Spahn Ranch and of Tex on his “horsie,” belittling him and adding to Cliff’s inability to take Manson’s minions at all seriously (Cliff, to Tex: “Uh, you are?” Tex, intoning: “I’m the devil, and I’m here to do the devil’s business.” Cliff, dismissive: “No, it was dumber than that…”). Soon Brandy the pit bull is chewing Tex and Sadie to pieces, and Cliff is hammering Katie’s (Madisen Beaty) head into any number of hard, angled surfaces. (Let’s not linger on Dalton’s flamethrower.) The violence is gratuitous, meaty, precisely staged and shot. It’s a Tarantino film, after all. And in this brutally antic sequence, the film and the director shift into another generic form, very dear to Tarantino: the revenge drama.

A number of Tarantino’s films have employed revenge plots: all of Kill Bill (2003, 2004), Death Proof (2007), Django Unchained (2012). Inglourious Basterds (2009, featuring a cartoonish but still satisfying performance from Pitt) expanded its revenge to world-historical scale, using film as a weapon for culture to take its vengeance on Hitler, and on the Nazi Party’s development of cinema as a vector for political propaganda. Once upon a Time…in Hollywood is less expansive but still has complex dimensions: American pop takes its revenge on Manson, rolling back his invasion of LA’s industrial and cultural turf and reversing — if only symbolically — his extinguishment of Tate and her career, of all the images and roles she might have given us.

But it’s possible to discern other layers to the vengeance, if one listens. Running throughout the fight sequence is the Vanilla Fudge’s bombastic, psych-rock rendition of “You Keep Me Hangin’ On” (1967), which is both a suitable and a strange choice. Suitable, in that its acid intensities resonate with Manson and with Cliff, who is tripping throughout the scene. Strange, though, in its lack of a clear thematic relation to the scene’s action, which seems to have guided other songs’ selections — certainly “Brother Love’s Traveling Salvation Show,” and “Hey Little Girl,” and “Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Man” and even, in its limited way, “Good Thing.” So why would Tarantino abandon that logic here, at the film’s big, bloody climax?

As ever, with Tarantino, the layers have histories.

“You Keep Me Hangin’ On,” of course, was first recorded and released by the Supremes, for whom it was a #1 charting single in 1966. There’s a sort of pattern suggested by the film, of utterances and meanings developed in black American culture that are quickly adopted and refitted, frequently rendered vanilla (hello) and commodified, by white culture. To be sure, the Supremes also produced a successful commodity with their version of the tune. But the play among those songs and vinyl sides suggests a more problematic set of appropriations — among them, Weatherman’s use of the revolutionary language developed by the Black Panthers and Stokely Carmichael, which Billy Ayers, Bernardine Dohrn and others spouted and spun out to fringe actors, like Manson, who degraded it, rendering it nearly meaningless.

“Helter Skelter” was another of the Manson Family’s watchwords, and another of Manson’s nutty notions, alleging that the Beatles song was endowed with the power to launch a race war in America. Manson’s racism mixed paranoia with his megalomania. He envisioned an America in which blacks would murder all the white people, save for him and his followers. In his view, blacks were too incompetent to govern themselves; they would need a white leader, and it would be Manson. So while Ayers and Dohrn called cops pigs in an attempt to make common cause with black revolutionaries (who were deeply skeptical of the white kids and their enthusiasms), Manson and his minions called cops pigs out of a chaotic psycho-social melange of persecution, ressentiment and bizarre apocalyptic divination.

So maybe we should linger on Dalton’s flamethrower a bit, after all. He uses it to torch Sadie to death, the Mansonite most earnest in her identification of him as another “piggie.” Close to the film’s beginning, there’s an ersatz movie clip drawn from The Fourteen Fists of McCluskey, in which Dalton, as the fictive hero McCluskey, uses the same flamethrower to burn a bunch of Nazi officers to death. It’s another Tarantino callback, to the climax of Inglourious Basterds and the incineration of many, many more fascists (and that scene had the benefit of the fever dream of Shoshanna Dreyfus’s [Melanie Laurent] face, projected onto the celluloid-fed inferno and madly laughing, surely one of the best images Tarantino has ever concocted). But the visual synonymy identifies Sadie with the Nazis. She seems to be the fascist. She has certainly been infected by Manson’s racist manias and linguistic depredations.

That may be too clever, by half — but with Tarantino, that sort of playful cascade of images and associations that ends up feeling meaningful is generally what we get, and in this case, there is a sort of critique to be made. If the postmodern in part emerged amid the collapse of counterculture’s revolutionary agendas, Once upon a Time…in Hollywood directs its wrath at a symbol of that collapse, and of the resulting nightmares borne on dope, irrationally enraged agony (especially over Vietnam, news of which occasionally issues from car radios in the film) and harebrained political analysis by kids reading texts that had currency amid a very, very different conjuncture. While Tarantino’s revenge narrative morphs generic forms again at the end, into alternate history, there’s a way in which that mutation can be read as a useful provocation. Not just a thought experiment, or a gesture lionizing fiction’s weirding power, in some ironized celebration of relativist spectacle. But a reminder that while history has to happen the way it happens, our histories are constructions, and they tell very partial and very particular stories. It’s an old saw, now, to recommend postmodernity’s meta- moves and pop cultural saturations as testing grounds for our reading strategies, but that doesn’t make the assertion any less cogent. Perhaps, to burn through the layers of images, to burn down the funhouse of contemporary revisionisms and to fight the fascists, who continue to manipulate media, what we need is a powerful instrument: our minds, tempered by their interactions with tempting narratives that wish to tell us pleasant stories.

Or mavbe we just want to watch Sharon dance, Manson be damned.

Jonathan Shaw

[hockeybazooka]

https://www.tumblr.com/hockeybazooka/752572383341215744/this-is-gonna-sound-mad-hypocritical-of-me-seeing?source=share

(I'm so sorry for so much text)

I agree with this.

Like bro you're cute, handsome but you're a sht, nasty person. Why can't men (women too tho) like these be respectful towards their girlfriend and relationship (? talking especially about those ones that have gf that you can tell that they're (the gf) in love and really want to be happy with them.

And then the ones who dates girls that are exactly the same as them (cheaters, unfaithful, etc.) and then proceed to have the most toxic relationship ever. Breaking up, getting back together, breaking up, together again. Like they think they're JB and SG or what. They won't let each other go, why?? Because the woman is pretty and hot, and because he's hot , handsome, rich and famous. Lmao

Sorry, I hate people like that. And like you said, it might be/sound hypocritical, bc at the end we end up being thirsty(? for them, I would never be in a relationship with a man like that, because nothing good ever comes from being with a person like that.

OMG SOMEBODY ELSE GETS THIS. Like the stuff I've witnessed isn't that bad yet because it was all varsity HS sports cheating/general drama stuff. Like wdym my teammate was in a on and off again toxic situationship w/ a four-star D1 commit fsu football player and wdym my classmates soccer teammate is dating cooper flagg❓❓ Athletes are SAURRR toxic and messy it's insane bc why are you pretending to be single at games and why does the gf put up w/ it!?!? But I'm getting ready for the college level athlete toxicity and we all know how bad it gets 😭

But at the end of the we still simp for these toxic ass athletes and I don't know why smh-

I actually have a few more of these athlete stories shoved up my ass 😺 I've got NBA and NFL players, no hockey tho cuz it's existence is obsolete here lmao.

[coffeestainedcamera]

Anyways, I loved Poor Things and it's up there with Boy and Heron, They Cloned Tyrone, Barbie, Asteroid City, and M3gan for fave of the year for me. So, let's first set the scene here.

I show up at the theater, expecting only like three other people (based on our online ticketing system). Then the room gets completely packed by everyone from other twenty-somethings to elderly couples. I haven't seen this big a turnout since the Barbie screening, prob.

So, anyways, we all start watching and begin dying of laughter. It's in the basic slapstick, like Bella impulsively smacking Max in the intro. But it's also in all her unfiltered observations that aren't very socially acceptable!

Ok yeah, now we're hitting spoilers so just gonna toss a cut in.

Yeah, she's ultimately kind of like the revived guy in Frankenstein, except her dad actually cares for her. It's in the small stuff like giving her a name and not tossing her at the first signs of trouble. But both doctors still didn't really give a rat's ass about their kids' basic bodily autonomy when first making them.

Did Bella's mom ever ask to be brought back? Nah, so he respected that basic bit. Would she have been okay with her kid's brain animating her corpse? Ehhhhhhhh, doubtful, especially considering that she offed herself to escape her expected role as a good rich mama. Can't really ask her, but that's not gonna stop science here (much like in the case of Dr. Frankenstein and his son).

Yeah, that's not exactly a promising start to a parent-kid relationship. We have basic standards of good parenting like actively trying to educate the kid and not committing incest, but the bar is kind of in hell. Still, he ultimately respects her autonomy and lets her make the impulsive decision to run off on a trip with some lawyer. After giving away her hand in marriage without her own permission, like a proper Victorian papa! Still, wow, he actually let her out. Amazing, showstopping, revolutionary.

Anyways. Mr. Lawyer is a total elderly creeper. He wants Bella, but when she's uneducated and controllable. The second he catches her reading philosophy books? Tosses them overboard and rages at the lady who gave them to her. Then he pathetically tries to off her.

Ruffalo has no right being as funny as he is in this role. Still, it's a performance that makes sense in the context of this absurd comedy. He's a pathetic manbaby that's angry that his girlfriend is actively trying to improve herself while he's stagnant (and gasp, she might figure out that he's a giant creep that women his age stay away from). The second she screws someone else, he rages. And he doesn't respect her coworkers in Paris! But he does it with this expression of inept rage, so we all couldn't help but laugh at his breakdown at being dumped once Bella learns more about the world.

Side note, but the most laughs in the theater happened when Bella was completely disregarding social norms. You want a lady that only spews niceties in public? Well, sorry she very inappropriately threw one at your dinner companion's talk of her personal issues. Lol.

You're upset she's dancing by herself in public? Hope you have fun squirming while she takes the lead in the dance with you, then.

Oh, and sorry she's outearning you and proceeds to quit that overly strict workplace when she feels like it. And also finds a gf down there.

And sod it, if Mama was rocking generic Victorian clothes, we're rocking pieces that would've made Viviene Westwood proud!

Side note but that production and costume design were delicious. Plus, that color grading. I'm still obsessed with the vivid blue dress of her mom in her one final moment of freedom, versus that painful grayness of that mansion. Oh, and the vividness of Bella's world trip!

Anyways, very much a "vibes" kind of movie but we were all a very specific kind of hedonist that proceeded to laugh and actually comment on everything. It's a bleak comedy and while this all sounds like a massive breach of theater etiquette, it actually was fine. My favorite bit was at the mad scientist antics at the end. "No, don't bring your dad back, he never asked!" "HELL YEAHHHHHH" (yes, these were both reactions to the man-goat scene).

Ну, типа, ты же был таким козлом, в переносном смысле! Может ты хочешь стать одним буквально?:)))

In short, 10/10, would rec either going solo or with someone very, very understanding.

[toffyrats]

i hate narcissistic christians.

the kinda christains that take advantage of literal CHILDREN and tell them about the horrors of hell so that they’ll get scared and convert

the kinda christians that read “love your neighbor as yourself” and “god so loved the world” and then proceed to treat anyone not a christian like the scum of the earth

the kinda christians that make anything they don’t support seem like the villian in the story and don’t tell their kids about actual world problems (i didn’t learn climate change was an actual issue until a few years ago.)

the kinda christians that don’t give their kids a choice. if they’re anything other than conservative, pro-life, straight, and fully christian, they’ll say things like “its just a phase” or “they’ve fallen away from god”.

show respect to god’s earth my ASS because none of you fucking do that. your kids get scared of you and think they have to hide from you because they can’t tell you their opinions without getting in trouble.

THERE ARE FUCKING FLOWERS IN ANTARCTICA. you could tell a CHILD that and they’d know that’s not good.

so you’d tell your child about HELL but not human trafficking? how about women’s rights?? climate change? eating the rich? racism? the suicide rate of teens in 2023? THERE ARE WORSE PROBLEMS IN THE WORLD THAN THE LGBT COMMUNITY THAT IS DOING NOTHING TO YOU

but no, you’re not going to tell the newest generation any of that because it’s too radical. “history repeats itself” yeah. maybe you shoukd WARN THEM SO IT DOESNT. teach them helpful history, not just what’s in the bible.

my own fucking mother has told me women don’t deserve rights and that men have always and will always rule the world. she said women shouldn’t work, vote, anything that we’ve fought for. she’s lied to me as a child to make the left seem absolutely ridiculous. i’ve gotten grounded for genderbending a character. i’m scared to show my family any of my art now.

and then you’ll go and blame your kids opinions on social media. YEAH. social media tought me the things you wouldn’t.

you guys seriously need to grow tf up. the world is falling apart and all you fucking care about is the rapture. i still barely know how the american government WORKS and i’m SEVENTEEN. please just. be helpful for once

[spindrifters]

😡👀💋 for the ask xxxx

😡which fic did the characters control the most (like you wrote a whole ass plan AND THEY DECIDED TO FUCK IT UP)?

Is this not... what writing is...? Idk man, I'm a total pantser (as in, flying by the seat of my pants) when it comes to writing. I start off with a General Concept and the characters tell me what to do. I will say, I had no idea that marginalia was going to be as Sirius-centric as it is. I thought this was the Remus show, and I started out thinking in my little writer brain that I had to show Sirius' POV as well because otherwise it was going to come off as Stockholm Syndrome, but it took all of writing that one first chapter to realize like. Oh. This is a story about cycles of abuse and navigating your ethics under forced complicity on both ends.

👀what’s a fic written by someone else that you REALLY wish you wrote yourself?

Don't Panic by redspottywellies. I adore this fic so much. Sirius stuns Hagrid and takes Harry on Halloween '81, enlists Remus, and the three of them go on the run. The whole Order proceeds to chase after them across the UK, through hostels and train stations and moors, all while they're trying to deal with grief and some seriously broken trust. Also they're both women now because fuck you.

💋do you have any guilty pleasure ships that you really want to write for but are scared to?

Not really? Prongsfoot might be the closest, though it's less because I'm scared and more that I've never hit on a fic idea I've actually felt compelled to write.

fic writer ask game!

[cassioppenny]

sorry 2 hear youre having a bad day X_X hope u feel better soon... anyway!!! what's loki's pokemon team as champion of kanto....OR. OR are any of the milesverse protags/rivals Gamers. if so what video games do they like to play......

SO SO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG I HAD TO DO SOMETHING anyway....

LOKI'S TEAM 🔥🔥🔥

yeah it's literally just a mono psychic team lol. as they're a psychic type themselves he finds other psychic types the easiest to get along with. her espeon is his bestie kitties moment!!!

as for the gamers...

red - his family owns a snes and a gamecube. the snes is in his and green's bedroom and he plays mother 2 on it ALL THE TIME. him and green play like mario kart and meele with blue on their gamecube sometimes

green - shitty horror games officianado. she starts a lets play channel post rgby and screams at freddy fazbear

blue - his family only has an old as fuck genesis that used to be his dad's. loves sonic 3. would be absolutely devastated if he learned about sonic.exe

ethan - lies about having "real" consoles like a ps3 and xbox 360 but only has a wii and a ds. he's pokemon scott the woz in terms of games taste

kris - HUUUUGE rpg guy kingdome hearts strongest soldier. also plays rhythm games because. miku.

lyra - doom.

brendan- guitar hero

wally - rpg maker horror 100% also utdr

dawn - also loves horror shit. knows the most obscure horror schlock imaginable. probably made an eight hour video on fnaf lore

lucas - banjo kazooie collectathon platformers he MUST collect everything or he's explode

barry - sonic duh

hilbert - fighting games, battle sims, or anything competitive in general

hilda - too busy on that comp battle grind to game🔥 she does play some battle sims occasionally if the battle subway is closed or she wants to battle online

cheren - literally anything hilbert plays so he can be better at it than him

bianca - the sims and animal crossing and harvest moon and stuff like that. also rhythm games because meloetta

rosa - she likes anything she can find. her parents wouldn't let her play video games as a kid because they were "too violent" so now she happily eats up and slop she can find a rom for. loves gta just to spite her parents

nate - okay so fortnite doesn't exist yet in bw2 but. fortnite. also cod i guess. he's that type of gamer

hugh - REALLY salty fighting game player. also animal crossing

serena - she used to be a huge fan of kirby before dying 💀

calem - he's a cod kid sorry

shauna - she usually plays more casual games like rhythm games or farm/life sims but she is surprisingly really into metroid. (she has a crush on samus (gee i wonder what her taste in women is))

trevor - puzzle games and farming sims!! also collectathon platformers

tierno - ddr OBVIOUSLY he likes other rhythm games too

selene - she LOVES mario galaxy. rosalina was her childhood crush (gee i wonder what her taste in women is)

elio - he only plays REAL games for REAL MEN (proceeds to play crash bandicoot)

hau - animal crossing i think he plays games to relax and chill out

gladion - unironicly shadow the hedgehog 2005. he thinks shadow is just like him fr

lillie - her mom didn't let her play that many games when she was little but she LOVES playing mario galaxy with selene. also she plays animal crossing with selene and acerolla real

gloria - loz twilight princess. there's a funny wolf and swords of course she likes it

victor - he's a kirby fan but one of those kirby fans who INSIST that kirby is actually super dark and not for kids

hop - loz botw. him and gloria argue which zelda game is better

marnie - i think she likes cool stylistic indie stuff like rpg maker games, utdr, ect. she doesn't like overly corporate lifeless feeling games like new super mario. she really likes the world ends with you she'd think the style of that game kicks ass

bede - wii sports💀

juliana - retro games and games with retro artstyles!! she loves old shit so much she bought nso just for the retro games (she doesn't know how to emulate</3)

florian - he likes a lot of games actually!! he wants to be a game developer when he's older so he loves learning about game design and how games are made.

nemona - battle sims, fighting games, action games, ect she likes high action stuff!! she'd be a god at dmc i think

arven - he only has his childhood ds that's on life support. yes he does have cooking mama

penny - rhythm games, jrpgs, rpg maker, fighting games, ect ect she plays a LOT of stuff. also unfortunately plays gacha games. me and her are both in miku gacha hell i think

carmine and kieran - they just have their grandparents old ass wii but dead god can have the most insane round of mario kart they have ever seen