#i don’t CARE you only wanted him to show up in Legendary

[witless-winion1]

ignoring Mr Jalpeño’s blatant Good Boy erasure

imagine Argos fucking hates the suitors. He senses the bad vibes and he growls and snaps at them at every opportunity. Several of the suitors have scars from being ‘nipped’.

imagine Odysseus disguising himself as a suitor, sneaking around, stealing weapons, and blending in with the other assholes during Hold Them Down

now imagine our favorite puppo making that super hard because he sees his master!! His owner is home, he hasn’t seen Ody since he was a puppy!! And now he’s old and slow but he’s damn happy to see his master, whether he looks homeless and is very stinky or not

imagine some of the other suitors wondering why the old king’s dog seems to like This One Rando so much, that he’s dancing around his legs like a fool, licking his scarred hands and sniffing his cloak obsessively, even as said Rando Suitor is trying to push him away between head pats

[lilislegacy]

In all these instances, Annabeth is going through a terribly stressful situation, and she’s not afraid to admit that she wants Percy to hold her. The only time Annabeth lets herself be truly vulnerable, and feels truly safe, is when she is in Percy’s arms.

She craves to be held by him. And that doesn’t mean she’s weak, or that he’s stronger than her, or that she relies on him to take care of her. It just means that for the first time in her life, she has a pair of arms to collapse into when she’s scared or upset. And yes, she absolutely does the same for Percy and takes care of him too, but it’s slightly different. Percy has always had his mom to love him and take care of him and hold him. Annabeth, however, had to put walls up at a young age. She learned to never rely on anybody else for safety or comfort, because she never consistently had someone loving her or taking care of her.

But now that she has that, it’s not a surprise that she yearns for his affection. Annabeth is touch-starved in a way that Percy isn’t. And she never feels more loved or more safe than she does when he is holding her. And I don’t know about you guys, but I am so happy that she has that now. Annabeth Chase is a warm, sensitive, and emotional character. And when those parts of her shine through, I think it makes her one of the most realistic characters.

For some reason, I feel like people think that Annabeth, and other female characters, have to be cold and insensitive in order to be strong. But I think that couldn’t be further from the truth! Allowing yourself to be vulnerable takes the utmost strength. Love and trust, and having someone by your side, makes people stronger, not weaker. I personally love that Annabeth lets herself be loved and comforted by her partner. Because she can be “the little spoon” and still be completely his equal. Wanting to be held and taken care of does not make someone lesser or weaker. It makes them human. (And it goes the same with men and all genders). It makes Annabeth one of the most relatable and realistic people in the series, and I love that Rick shows that side of her.

Annabeth Chase is a remarkably strong, fierce, legendary female warrior. She also craves to be held by her loving boyfriend. And those are not conflicting statements.

[smileysuh]

Yunhoe : Ateez

🌙 staring. Yunho x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. Your phone is so far away- and you’re too cock drunk to think much about donations or the chat room- but you do your best to be as vocal as possible, knowing that moans will make up for the fact that Yunho obviously could care less about good visual shots. 

cw/ tw. cam sex, dom/sir yunho, breast worship, gentle slapping, size kink, oral, blow job, fingering, dirty talk, finger sucking, multiple positions/orgasms, jealousy, man handling, unprotected sex, etc... I petnames. (hers) baby, princess. (his). sir.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 5.5k

🍭 aus. cam girl reader, poly idols, idols sharing a fuck buddy, dirty boy idols, etc...

☀️ mlist + an. cam room directory here

“You didn’t tell me there’d be people at the dorms-” you whisper as the largest member of Ateez pulls you into his bedroom and closes the door behind you. 

“It’s just Mingi- and as you saw, he had headphones on- he’s not gonna interrupt us,” Yunho assures you. 

“Really? You’re sure of that?” You raise an eye brow at him. “So when he gets a cam room notification, and opens it to see us fucking- Mingi’s going to just … go back to gaming?”

Yunho grins. “I didn’t think of that,” he admits. “But I guess that’s why there’s a lock on my door.”

You shake your head at him- laughing at the situation. “You idols and your relaxed morals around threesomes-”

“I mean, if it’s gonna be with anyone, might as well be Mingi- and hey! I told you, the door’s locked.” Yunho’s eyes drag up and down your figure. “I will admit- your last cam show with those two members of Seventeen was pretty hot, but I want you all to myself now.”

“You do, do you?” 

You find yourself grinning as the idol approaches you, hands grabbing your waist to tug you to his chest.

“Uh huh.” His gaze shifts to your lips then back up to your eyes. “We’ve known each other a while- not just us, but you and all of Ateez. I remember the first time Seonghwa and Hongjoong told me you’d sent them a link to your cam show- Hongjoong had been certain he’d be the first of us to get a shot at you. But then you went on cam girl hiatus, and we worked with you on Legendary Kingdom and- I don’t know… I guess I had to have you… but that cam room you did last week definitely pushed me to make a move.” 

“Wow Yunho, I didn’t know I’d been on your mind for so long,” you breathe, seeing him in a new light. 

“Don’t be humble, gorgeous,” Yunho laughs, gently grabbing your jaw and swiping his thumb across your lower lip, “Everyone knows our little cam baby is a heart breaker.”

“Planning on getting your heart broken, are you?”

He grins, then his thumb moves down so he can grip your neck, causing you to gasp. Yunho leans in, lips brushing by your ear, when he says, “I think I plan on breaking you. But only in ways you’ll love, I promise.” 

You groan at how turned on you already are- nodding in his grasp. 

Yunho kisses you a moment later, releasing your neck in favour of grabbing your hips, tugging until your body is flush to his own. His tongue invades your mouth, gliding past yours and making you moan louder-

His hands slip down to your ass, and Yunho lifts you off the ground, forcing your legs around his waist. Instead of taking you to the bed, he presses you against the wall, pinning you right where he wants you while his lips move to your neck. 

It feels so good to be manhandled like this- your breath knocked out of you, body easily tossed around like a ragdoll- 

It feels like giving up control, and if there’s one thing you’ve needed today, it’s to let someone else be in charge. 

Yunho’s given you good vibes for as long as you’ve known him, and it feels amazing to be here with him-

With you pinned between his large form and the wall, your legs wrapped securely around his waist, Yunho is able to carry you with one hand, the other goes for your tshirt. 

“Off,” Yunho says against your throat, pulling away just long enough to help you tear the fabric from your form and throw it across the room.

“Yunho-” you laugh, enjoying his energy, but remembering the task at hand; “I should start a cam room-”

“Right-” his lips are on your throat again, and he doesn’t seem too intent to stop, but he allows you to manuver yourself to pull your phone from your back pocket. You adjust your grip on Yunho’s broad shoulders, a little wobbly while you begin to look for the right app.

“Yunho-” you groan, laughing again when he rolls his hips, pressing the front of his jeans against your core. 

“Is the cam room open?”

“Yeah, in one sec-” you hear Yunho’s own cell ding, signifying a notification for your cam show.

“Phone?” Yunho asks, pulling away from your neck and holding out a hand expectantly.

You don’t even think twice, placing the device in his large palm. He tosses it over his shoulder and it lands on the bed.

“They can wait,” he tells you, lips returning to your own and cutting off any bratty response you’d had bubbling inside of you. 

Yunho ruts his hips again, and you moan loudly at the feeling- your panties are already sticking to your core, and if Yunho doesn’t continue stripping you soon, you might just cry-

In fact, if his own shirt doesn’t come off soon you’ll probably cry- 

All it takes is balling your hands in the fabric for Yunho to pull away from you and tear it off, revealing his strong torso to your greedy fingers. You immediately begin to trace the muscular lines of his shoulders, and Yunho groans when he kisses you, pressing you tighter against the wall-

“Yunho-” you moan, already used to the feeling of his name on your lips-

“Call me sir, or daddy-” he responds, mouth returning to your neck while you tangle your hands in his dark hair.

“Fuck, never saw you as the kind of guy with a sir kink-” you admit, swallowing thickly. 

Although you’ve often had a preference for ‘daddy,’ you’d learned the hard way to only bestow it upon men that you truly want to baby you, and as much as you like Yunho, you’d like to be fucked by him, not treated like his little princess.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Yunho tells you. “How my tongue feels, how big my cock is, how well it’s going to stretch out that tight fucking pussy of yours-”

“Sir-” you groan, panties getting wetter by the second. 

 “I guess we can start now,” Yunho concedes, pulling you away from the wall to toss you onto his bed next to your phone. “Do you need to check who’s in the room so far?”

“Okay-” you nod, “yeah-”

When you pick up your phone, the camera naturally swings to reveal who you’re with, and you get to watch the chat explode.

Unlike during your last show, nct isn’t at a concert, so the room is full of Seventeen and nct members.

HeyChannie: first you cheat on us with svt and now ateez-

Tigerprince: I thought I was next > : ( 

KingArthurMin: yeah

KingArthurMin: I thought Hoshi was next

Hannie: kkkkkkkkkkk 

Thegentleman: my money was on cheol actually 

Gi: O.O uh

Joongie: i thought yunho was at home with you gi

Gi: he is….

Darkhwa: 👀

“Mingi’s in the chat,” you tell Yunho, lifting your hips to allow him to pull your pants off.

“Tell him we say hi,” Yunho responds, tongue swiping out to wet his lower lip as he looks down at you. “And give me the phone.”

You relinquish the device for the second time, blinking up at Yunho as he uses he camera to take a full body shot of you.

“Nice set, baby- do you always wear nice sets when you know you’re going to get fucked?”

“Yes, sir,” you nod, trying to hide a smile that threatens to work its way onto your face. You’re enjoying the shift in his tone, the dominant way he’s addressing you.

“Are you going to take your bra off for us? I think I can speak for everyone when I say I’ve been missing your pretty tits all week.” 

The way Yunho’s eyes scan your phone make you think he’s reading the chat, and the sound of donation coins indicates that he is most definitely speaking for everyone.

“Damn baby, these guys drop big money just for you to take your bra off,” Yunho says, gaze lifting to watch you. “You’ll be good and remove it, yeah?”

“Of course, sir, if it’s what you and the chat want-” You arch your back, slipping your hands under yourself to undo the clasp. 

You take your time with the straps, looking up at Yunho and the camera in an almost bashful manner as you slowly reveal your upper half.

“There you are,” Yunho breathes, reaching a large hand down to cup your breast. 

“Am I pretty enough for you today?” you tease, but your words make Yunho’s eyes lift from your breasts to look at you.

“Always,” he assures you quickly. He holds your gaze for a second or two before it returns to your tits, and his thumb brushes by your nipple, making you groan and writhe against the sheets. 

“Sir-” 

“Yes, baby?” Yunho asks. “Gonna beg for it already?” 

“Uh huh, I’m so wet-” You feel your skin flush as Yunho brings the camera down to your panty clad core, and you have no doubt that there’s an arousal spot showing through the thin material. 

“You are,” he agrees, free hand reaching down so he can press his thumb to your clit, massaging the wet fabric against your entrance. A small groan escapes you, and Yunho smiles. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes, sir-” you can hardly take your eyes off his muscular torso, and you’re already imagining how big his cock must be- how big it’s going to feel inside of you-

“Can I take these off of you, baby?” Yunho asks, fingers hooking in the waistband of your panties.

“Yes, please, sir-”

He tears the fabric down your legs, and you’re left completely bare. 

“I know I said I wanted to see those pretty tits of yours, but I’ve been thinking about your pussy for a while too, baby. It’s even prettier than your tits.”

His words make a rush of embarrassment flood through you, and you go to close your legs, only to have them forced open.

“Take the compliment,” he tells you, and you laugh a little at the way in which Yunho does praise. 

You’re still not fully used to him, but something tells you that by the end of the night, you will be.

“Thank you, sir-” you say, “I’m glad you like my pretty pussy- it’s ready just for you.” 

Yunho’s eyes lift from your core and he cocks a brow at you, grinning. “Yeah? What do you want me to do first, baby?”

“You could-” you swallow thickly, skin tingling from the way he’s making you be verbal for him. “You could kiss it a little, I guess-”

Yunho lets out a small laugh, and a moment later, he’s gently smacking the inside of your thigh. The contact is enough to make you yelp, a small sting jittering up leg and going straight to your core. Your pussy is practicly throbbing with interest, and your heart is speeding in your rib cage.

“When did you get so shy?” Yunho teases you. “I guess you’re too used to guys begging to eat you out huh? Haven’t had to ask for it in a while, have you, pretty girl?” 

“No-” you admit, mind going back to Mingyu, who had literally dragged your pussy to his mouth, “I haven’t had to ask in a while.” 

Another smack to the inside of your thigh has you letting out a high pitched squeal, reaching down to push at Yunho and his broad shoulders. 

“That’s for not calling me sir,” he tells you, pointing your phone up at your face to capture your shocked expression. 

Yunho’s grinning now, and you realize he’s the kind of guy who’s not truly aware of his own strength- your thigh is stinging slightly from the contact, but you can tell he’d meant it in a more playful way. 

“Sorry sir,” you apologize quickly. “I guess- seeing as I havent had to do it in a while, do you want me to beg for your tongue?”

Yunho’s eyes darken, and he nods behind the camera.

The sound of coins is on low volume today, but cam room donations spur you on as you begin to speak. “Please- sir, I’m already so needy- didn’t expect to have my inner thighs slapped, and it felt so good- I need something- I want your cock later, but I know you’re gonna be so big- gonna stretch me out so well- I need your tongue first, please, sir-”

The idol between your legs looks hungrier and hungrier as you beg for him, and finally, he snaps. Yunho tosses your phone onto the bed next to you, grabbing your hips to pull you to his mouth. His hands slip to the backs of your thighs, and he presses your legs up closer to your chest, curling your body in half and making it easier for the tongue that slips into your wet hole-

A moan escapes you as you reach down to thread your fingers in Yunho’s dark curls. You don’t even care that the camroom is left to stare at the ceiling again- the sounds that are tumbling out of you already are enough to let the men watching know that you’re being perfectly eaten out.

“Fuck- sir-” you throw your head back, eyes closing as Yunho sucks his lips around your clit. 

Every idol you fuck has their own pace, their own intensity when they’re eating your pussy- every single man that’s gone for your pussy like this has known what they’re doing, each in their own way. 

Yunho’s good with his tongue, and he’s definitely not shy about using it. You can feel his tasting your walls, groaning against your core and rubbing his nose to your clit-

Then there’s the way he applies pressure to the back of your thighs, keeping you pretzeled and at his mercy-

You can’t find it in yourself to verbalize praise for Yunho, and something tells you he prefers your moans and whines anyways. The pitchier you are, the harder he goes on you-

It must be obvious that you’re close to cumming, because Yunho’s mouth goes to your clit again and he lets go of one of your legs, a finger sliding into your entrance-

You adjust your thigh over Yunho’s shoulder and he adds a second digit, stretching you out while his tongue flicks at your most sensitive spot-

“Shit- sir- I’m gonna-” you can’t even finish your sentence, inhaling a sharp breath as your first orgasm is torn out of you with shocking precision. 

You buck your hips towards his face, clit throbbing at the way he continues to suck on it- but the hand on your lower abdomen pins you to the bed, forcing you back down. 

A strangled moan slips out of you and you grab the bedsheets, one last attempt to ground yourself while Yunho’s tongue and fingers guide you to cloud nine. 

“So good-” you whimper, on the verge of tears already, “so so good, sir- oh my god-” 

You can feel him smile against your pussy, and a moment later he’s letting up on your clit, fingers pumping into you slowly while he looks up at you. “Almost ready for me to fuck you, baby?” 

“Uh huh-” you swallow thickly, “yes, please, sir.” 

“How are your legs feeling?” Yunho asks, turning his head to press a kiss against your inner thigh. 

“Good… why?” 

“Cuz you’re gonna be riding me.”

“I am?” You blink at him, watching him pull away from between your legs to stand at the foot of the bed.

“Of course,” Yunho grins, taking out a small light ring and tripod that every idol you fuck just seems to have on hand- “it’s another thing you inspired me with during your last show.”

Your leg muscles are burning just thinking about it.

“I thought you said you were going to break me- how can you break me if I’m on top?”

“You’re cute, baby,” Yunho shakes his head at you while setting your phone in place. “When you get close, I’ll flip you onto your back and take over- Mingyu did the best he could under you while you sucked his friend off- but… I think I could do better- since it’s just the two of us.”

 The man who you’d once thought of as the boy next door type comes to join you on the bed, sitting propped up against the headboard.

You take a moment to appreciate his physique before getting onto your knees and crawling towards him, reaching out a hand to help him with his belt and pants. 

“You gonna be good and suck me off too, baby?” Yunho cocks a brow at you.

“Yes, sir,” you nod, licking your lips, “something tells me you’re really big- and I’m not usually a fan of lube so-”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that,” Yunho tilts his head to the side while assessing you, “you’re usually wet enough, aren’t you, pretty girl?”

“Usually wet enough for guys with normal dicks, but like I said, sir,” you trail your finger over the bulge in his denim pants, “I suspect you’re big.” 

“Open your present and find out,” he shrugs, almost nonchalantly, and it only makes you even more eager to get your mouth around his cock.

You’re aware of the way your phone is set up, at the foot of the bed, and you can imagine that the camroom has a great view of your ass and pussy as you lean over Yunho’s crotch. You arch your back, shaking your bum just enough to tease anyone watching.

Yunho lets out a small laugh at your behaviour, lifting his hips to allow you to pull his pants and briefs down in one rough tug. His hard cock slaps up against his lower abdomen- it’s as big and pretty as the rest of him. 

“Fuck, I’m not going to be able to fit this anywhere, sir, least of all my mouth-” you tell him, wrapping your hand around the base of his length. 

“You’ll do alright,” he assures you, pushing a few stray strands of hair out of your face. “Don’t have to suck it for long- besides, I can already see you drooling, baby.” 

You are- it would be hard not to salivate at the sight of Yunho’s dick-

“Come on, my pretty little cock whore cam baby,” the idol encourages you, “it’s not gonna suck itself.” 

With a small shake of your head, you lick a stripe from base to tip, and Yunho shivers beneath you as your tongue glides over the head of his cock. He’s sensitive there, and you don’t mind focusing your attention on his pretty mushroom tip- for a short while at least.

Yunho lets out a groan, large hand gently applying pressure to the back of your head, urging you to take more of him-

No matter how many dicks you suck in your life, you don’t think you’ll ever truly be used to having your mouth full in this way- 

But you do your best, closing your eyes and breathing through your nose while you work Yunho over with your tongue. 

“You are good at this-” Yunho tells you, voice breathy, “I don’t know why I thought the other guys might be exaggerating- but they’re really not.” 

This makes you even more eager to show Yunho all you can do with your mouth, and you suck on him even harder, hollowing out your cheeks-

Yunho gasps, grip tightening in your hair, pulling you off of him. “That’s enough of that,” he tells you, assessing your puffy lips and the trail of saliva still connecting you to his cock. “Gonna ride me now, right, baby?”

“Uh huh,” you nod, “yes, sir, gonna ride you so well-” 

You go to latch onto his shoulders and Yunho’s hands find your hips, lifting you into position- he allows you to be the one who reaches between your bodies, grabbing his cock and adjusting it so you can slowly sink down-

“Fuck- sir, you’re so big-” you whimper, bouncing a little so you can take him easier. 

“Told you I was going to stretch out this tight little pussy, didn’t I, baby?” Yunho’s head is dipped, his gaze focused on the way you’re still trying to sit completely on his cock-

One of his hands reaches up to grasp your breast, massaging you and tweaking your nipple with his thumb.

“Come on, baby, you can take it-” he encourages you, biting his lip between his teeth while his eyes scan your body. “You’re our little cam baby, right?”

“Yes-”

“So that means you can take anything,” Yunho says, leaning in so his breath can fan across your chest. “Take it, baby,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, “take my cock.” 

“I’m trying- you’re so-” you groan in frustration, bobbing on his cock to take the last two inches- “fuck- so deep- sir-” you dig your nails into his shoulders, throwing your head back and closing your eyes.

“Just wait till I start fucking you, baby, that’s gonna be deep.” His hand slides down from your hip to grab at your ass. “Come on, ride it.” 

You adjust your anchor on his shoulders, thighs already shaking as you lift your body only to sink back down on his cock. The gentle sound of skin slapping skin is something you do your best to focus on as you find a slow rhythm.

You’re nearly lost in the feeling of Yunho, of being split open on him with each movement-

But it feels so good- has anything ever felt this good?

Then the man beneath you is leaning in, wrapping his lips around your nipple- your hands go to his hair, threading through the dark locks as more moans slip out of you. 

As you bounce up and down on him, rhythm increasing with help from the two large hands on your hips, you almost forget that you’re doing a cam show. 

Your phone is so far away- and you’re too cock drunk to think much about donations or the chat room- but you do your best to be as vocal as possible, knowing that moans will make up for the fact that Yunho obviously could care less about good visual shots. 

The idol’s teeth drag over your nipple, and then he’s pulling away from your chest to look up at you, cheeks a pretty pinkish colour. “You’re perfect,” Yunho tells you, voice low enough that the camera won’t hear him.

“Thank you, sir-”

“Enough with sir,” he cuts you off, planting one hand on the bed so he can roll his hips up to meet yours, “it’s Yunho now, call me Yunho, I want everyone to know who’s fucking you like this.”

“Fuck, Yunho-” you whine loudly, tugging gently on his curls to pull his lips to yours.

It’s an eager kiss, a clash of tongues and teeth- your nails drag by his strong shoulders, and he stifles your moans of pleasure as he continues to fuck up into you.

“You close?” he asks, gently biting at your lower lip.  

“Uh huh-”

“Your thighs are shaking, baby- should I take over?”

“Please-” 

Yunho’s abdominal muscles tense as he sits up fully, and two hands brace under your ass- in a quick motion, you’re thrown onto your back at the foot of the bed, head nearly lolling off the side of the mattress-

“There we go,” Yunho says as he slots between your thighs in missionary position, his mouth coming close to your ear when he whispers, “now all your other boy toys can watch you get properly fucked.” 

The camera is in the perfect spot, and when Yunho’s large hand wraps around your throat, he forces you to hang your head off the side of the bed, your back arching-

Your camroom will have a great view of you and your tits bouncing as Yunho takes lead, thrusting into you at an angle that has his cock practically rearanging your insides-

“Fuck- Yunho-” you gasp, hardly able to speak with the pressure still on your throat from his hand, “so deep-”

“Your close, right, baby?” He gently bites at your earlobe. “Why don’t you rub that pretty clit for me and cum?”

“What about you?” you ask, hand already slipping between your bodies to seak out your sensitive nub.

“I’m not done with you just yet-” Yunho chuckles, releasing your throat in favour of pressing kisses along your neck. “Just trust me- and be a good little cam baby who cums all over big dick.” 

“I can do that-” you nod, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of your tight hole-

“Squeezing me so good, baby,” Yunho groans against your throat, fucking into you even harder. 

“Don’t stop-” you whine, hands smoothing over his strong shoulders, nails teasing skin.

“I’ve got you,” Yunho promises, pace unfaltering.

“Fuck, Yunho-” each slap of his hips against yours has you closer and closer-

“That’s it, come on-” he cups your face, thumb gliding past your lips-

It’s the perfect thing to suck on, the perfect thing to be the cherry on top that throws you over the edge. 

You gasp around his digit, pussy clamping down on his cock while your own fingers rub at your clit, sending jitters of electric pleasure energy coursing through your entire body. 

“There you go-” Yunho groans in your ear, fucking you through your orgasm.

He’s so big, pinning you down to the bed as easily as ever-

All you can do is claw at his back and wrap your legs tighter around his waist while he helps you ride it out-

You wish he was cumming with you, your body already tired from two orgasms, but you suppose a guy with a big dick like Yunho might need a little longer to get there- 

The sounds he’s making in your ear tell you he’s close too, and you find yourself threading your fingers through his hair again. “Yunho-” you moan, “want you to cum too-”

“You done baby?”

“Yes- but I want you to cum-” 

Before you can finish your sentence, Yunho’s pulling out of you and manhandling you again. This time, you find yourself on all fours, ass up-

You think he’s going to fuck you doggy, but then he pulls you onto your knees, pinning you to his chest with an arm like a safety bar across your front, large hand cupping your breast.

“Here-” Yunho fumbles with something in the back pocket of the jeans that are still haphazardly pushed down his legs. He hands you his phone. “Open your camroom and read some comments.”

“What?” 

“You heard me,” he insists, kissing your neck and gently nipping at your skin. His thrusts, however, are anything but gentle, as he begins rutting into you from behind. “Read.” 

Joongie: this guy is crazy

Darkhwa: you say that as if it’s not OUR yunho

Joongie: that’s not our yunho

Gi: yeah he’s sir

Mountain: you’ve called him that a lot, huh gi?

Wooyoungthug: kkkkkkkkkkk

Gi: shut up san

Wooyoungthug: nice comeback

“It’s-” you begin to try to talk, but cut yourself off with a moan- Yunho feels so good like this- “it’s mostly your own members-”

“Yeah?” Yunho’s breath fans over the nape of your neck, and you feel him over your shoulder.

“San, Wooyoung and Gi are fighting-”

“Of course they are,” the man behind you sighs.

“Now Gi’s asking to come join-”

Yunho’s response is a quick “No,” and he tightens his grip on you. He brings his lips to your ear again, speaking low so only you can hear; “What about your beloved Seventeen and NCT? They’re not in the room?”

“They are-” you swallow thickly, scanning the comments.

Doie has donated $300

Tigerprince has donated $100

Doie: come on hoshi. Pay up

PuppyBoyWoo: yeah hoshi pay up

PuppyBoyWoo has donated $300

Tigerprince: settle down PUPPY

Tigerprince: rawr

Tigerprince has donated $200

“They’re bickering- as usual,” you say. 

“No steady dom in the room to tell them to behave?” Yunho grins against your throat, one hand moving so his fingers can rub your clit-

“Fuck- Doie-” your breath catches, “Doyoung’s trying to keep things in line-”

“He’s not the dom I was thinking of,” the man behind you scoffs. He’s quiet when he speaks, another line meant for your ears only; “Joong and Hwa said you have a thing for Johnny keeping the peace- isn’t your favourite dom in chat?”

“I-” your heart flutters as you realize NiceGuyJohnny isn’t a name you’ve seen so far- 

NiceGuyJohnny has donated $1000

“He’s in the room,” you confirm, shocked when something like relief floods over you.

“And you just love that, don’t you, baby?” Yunho whispers in your ear, chuckling. “Your pussy’s squeezing me so good now- tell me, is it from my fingers on your clit?” he rubs you harder, “or from John.”

“It’s from you-” you tell him, closing your eyes and leaning back against his shoulder. “Please- Yunho- I just wanna cum-”

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh- so badly,” you whimper.

“Fine.” The arm that’s been braced across your chest is suddenly gone, and Yunho pushes you down into doggy again, his phone discarded on the mattress next to your hand. “I guess if you beg for it- we can cum.”

“Oh my god, yes!” you moan at the new position, his cock sliding into you incredibly deep- “please, please, please-”

“Is that all you have to say for yourself?” Yunho’s fingers dig into your hips as he fucks you stupid. 

“Please make me cum, please-” you’re so close- reaching a hand between your thighs to rub your clit- “Cum with me- want it so bad-”

“Fuck,” Yunho groans, “almost there, baby, almost there.”

You’re not sure how Yunho has the energy to do it, but he picks up his pace, and you claw at the sheets with one hand, your sounds getting even louder as you hold off your orgasm for the perfect moment-

“That’s it- feels so fucking good, baby-” his thrusts falter momentarily- “cum with me- fuck, cum with me, princess-” 

You’re his perfect little cam baby cock whore princess, and you do exactly as he said, exploding for the third time since arriving in Yunho’s room.

It’s all consuming, the type of orgasm that makes you burry your head in the sheets and want to scream, your toes curling as sensitivity courses through you-

Yunho’s groaning behind you, rutting deep into your core even as you’re both overwhelmed with your orgasms-

His fingers dig into your hips, pulling you back to meet his thrusts-

“Fuck- Yunho-” 

His pace starts to slow, and you hear him let out something between a moan and a sigh. He’s still burried in your pussy, but he lets go of you, and for a moment you both simply catch your breath.

“You okay?” Yunho asks, hands returning to smooth up and down your back, a finger tracing your spine. 

“Uh huh,” you swallow thickly, still not ready to speak.

“Need a minute?”

“Uh huh.”

You both laugh a little, and you listen while Yunho takes another deep breath.

“Cam’s still on, so don’t say anything you don’t want them to hear,” he tells you. 

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like… you know, how much you love me and my massive dick-”

“Oh my god-” you groan, shaking your head and grinning. “I think maybe you should be careful- if you’re any more sweet to me, people will know I have you pussy whipped.”

“Pussy whipped?” Yunho laughs in shock, and he squeezes your ass cheek roughly. “You sure about that?”

“Don’t forget that before we turned the cam on, you admitted that-”

“Woah,” suddenly you’re being pulled up to your knees, back to his chest with his hand around your throat, “no need to spill any secrets, baby.” 

You simply smile, voice teasing when you say “Sorry, sir.” 

“Okay, I think it’s time to turn your phone off.” With one last sigh, Yunho pulls out of your core, and you whine at the loss, reaching down to cup your pussy so none of his cum can drip onto his bed. 

With your other hand, you grab at your phone, pulling it out of the tripod and saying goodbye to whoever is still in the room. You’ve got bigger things to deal with now- like how to get to the Ateez dorm bathroom without running into Gi.

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[sharkorok]

yeonjun w/ an inexperienced s.o

a/n: yooo the legendary yeonjun pic :P, anyways i decided to just follow the oldest member pattern I hope that’s ok anonnie :>

requested: yes!! thank uuu

tw/genre: cursing, fluff, campus au ig(?), fboi yeonjun kinda not really, insecurities so like minimal angst I suppose, tell me if I missed anything :]

•-•-•-•-•-•

-ok so yeonjun. practically everyone has had a crush on him at least two times in their life

-you’ve heard of his charms and smooth-talking and thanked god every day he’s never talked to you because PHEW you had no idea how to respond to that holy moly

-ok once again we are at a party and yeonjun sees you and thinks ur super duper pretty and he’s like “omg isn’t that the person who made someone cry because they responded to ‘i love you’ w thanks?”

-and that only happened because you didn’t know to respond with “i love you too” or “aww thanks” so whateves but you’re pretty notorious for being clumsy with relationships and avoiding getting into them

-so he walks up to you and is like “hey” w rizz and he finds your awkwardness both endearing and refreshing

-the crowd he hangs around with are familiar with sucking up to people or being charming, being automatically magnetic, and in the nicest way possible you weren’t really like that

-but you two become friends and date congrats

-he thinks you’re the cutest ever like genuinely

-maybe it’s the virgo in him but he likes teaching you things or at least helping you through them

-like your first proper kiss or make out or whatever, he walks you through it without making it awkward or patronizing and you appreciate that

-he’s very open about your relationship, he wants you to know he doesn’t care if anyone has nasty opinions on the two of you, he’s proud to show you off

-lowk tho i do feel like he gets insecure if you don’t express your love or affection for him but he also understands so he’s super conflicted and aghhh

-but then ur friend is like “what about gift giving or expressing love in your own way?” and ur like “omg ur so right?”

-and so everyday you write sticky notes or little letters reminding him of all the reasons why you love him, or you do tiny acts and you explain “until I get more comfortable I want to show you I love you in my own way” and he cries

-like he actually cries it was kinda awkward but sweet at the same time, he really appreciates you making an effort for him

-so after that he really cherishes ur little expressions of love :) and then gets pissed if anyone says u don’t treat him right

-because nuh uh yes u do, in ur own way

-likes to fluster you on purpose though, thinks you look cutest when you’re flustered and confused

-he won’t make fun of you but he’ll tease you for sure (if ur ok with it), but he always somehow compliments you too??

-“how can someone as gorgeous as you be so inexperienced with relationships?” and ur not sure whether you feel called out or flattered

-takes you on lots and lots of dates so you can experience what it’s like having a nice boyfriend who’s good to you! he’ll make sure this relationship will be the standard and more for any future partners u have.

-(not like you’ll have anyone else you’re too in love w him)

-never misses a beat with you, because he’s so good at conversation and being a flirt it doesn’t matter if you can’t reciprocate cuz he’ll just carry the convo lol

-“uhhh thanks for the flowers yeonjun :]” i love u too.” “yo whaaaat” and he just winks and kisses ur cheek

-what a weird couple, anyways

-he likes to push you a little bit, not really for your relationship but because it’s amusing

-like if you want physical affection but feel too shy to ask for it he’ll play dumb until you get all pouty and sulky

-“please give me a kiss oh my god jun” “shshsh I’m sorry I was joking!!”

-one time at a party this girl was hardcore flirting with yeonjun and talking about how she LOVESSS pda and how she’s SOOO EXPERIENCED and how she knows how to treat a man and she’s doing this all in front of you, rlly testing your patience

-yeonjun just rolls his eyes and squeezes your hand that’s loosely being held in his, but before he knows it you dragged him by the collar to give him a kiss

-if love isn’t ur fuel for confidence, jealousy and spite sure is

-“good thing I have a partner who treats me perfectly,” yeonjun says after you do your little smooch n she’s so pissed ur giggling

-yeonjun always is like “You don’t have to,” or “take your time,” and “only if you want to, ok?”

-so you don’t have to worry about meeting his expectations, the only way to disappoint is if you don’t feel comfortable enough setting boundaries and then he’s disappointed in the both of you

-makes u feel like the safest ever but also so flustered and giddy

-ok bye I’m devastated why r u so cute in these

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 38 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, VIOLENCE, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

38. the honorable thing

“Jonathan.” 

“Winston.” 

This is the first the hotelier has seen the former assassin leave his room for any kind of sustenance–how telling, that his first stop would be the bar. The older man lowers his voice, leaning in. “Not that it’s any of my business…but did you give that lovely young lady an engagement ring on false pretenses?”

John sighs, looking down into his bourbon. “Not because I don’t want to marry her, Winston.”

“Naturally.” 

John growls low in his throat. “I’m just trying to do the honorable thing.” 

“Presenting a lady with a ring without intending to actually marry her is certainly honorable.” 

“You don’t understand.” 

“Enlighten me. Or better yet, enlighten her. If your aim is to fool the Camorra, a believable fiancée she does not make.”

John resists the urge to bang his head on the polished oak bar.

“Or, don’t,” muses Winston. “I’ll finally be able to rent out the rooms next to yours. You have gotten more noise complaints with that woman in the past week than in the entirety of your time staying with us in previous years.”

John does hang his head in his hands at that.

“Winston…”

If Winston didn’t know any better…he would have almost thought the notorious assassin was embarrassed. 

“Just fix it, Jonathan. Otherwise, I promise you’ll regret it…” 

As Winston walks away John calls after him, “Do you ever get tired of being right all the time, old man?”

Winston chuckles, raises a hand in acknowledgement, and goes to greet another patron. 

***

You took the ring off for your training session with Mariko. When you returned to the room hours later, it was gone from the bathroom counter–and your first reaction was relief. 

John says nothing about it, when he returns from wherever he’s been. You decide not to either. Maybe the cleaning staff helped themselves. 

Good riddance and Enjoy. You’re tired of agonizing about it, and you want things to go back to the way they were before. 

He kisses you hello on the cheek, seemingly in a better mood than he has been all week. “Let’s have dinner downstairs tonight,” he proposes. This is news to you. You’ve heard tell of the legendary restaurant of The Continental, and of course the room service has been excellent, but it’s just not the same as dining in.

“Are you sure?” you ask, intrigued but suddenly wary. 

“Yes, if sounds good to you?” 

“I…would love that,” you admit, suddenly excited. It will mean getting dressed up–the opportunity to see John in one of his evening suits will make the fuss all worth it. Watching him get dressed here has become one of your favorite pastimes; it’s way better than anything on TV. 

***

Dinner is everything you’d hoped for and more. The food is out of this world, and better yet, John is sweet to you, tucking you in the shelter under his arm in the booth and speaking softly in your ear between courses. It reminds you a little of that beautiful dinner you had in Venice, before everything…changed. 

He looks handsome as the very devil in all black in the low light of the dining room, the reflection of the candle on the table in his dark irises glinting like hellfire. You cannot look away, be he god or devil or something in between, so utterly lost you are to this man. 

The wine is very good too, which is only part of the reason you clutch at his arm afterwards, trying not to trip over your new Louboutins and beaded Valentino gown. The sleeves are long, better to hide your bruises from training, but the high slit in your skirt is rather daring, and helpful for movement. He says he wants to show you something, which makes you giggle knowingly, but he doesn’t lead you back up to the room. You take a side corridor, finding it lets out to a narrow dark balcony on the fourth floor. You are in shadow, and you can watch the street below nearly unobserved. The skyscrapers beyond are lit up like birthday cakes. Maybe the city isn’t totally your speed, but it is interesting–for a little while. 

You are more than ready to return to your mountain, if ever you can. 

But for now, you are happy with the view, and the warmth of John’s arm around you–until he produces that damned little black box again. “Oh, John…” 

“Wait, y/n.” 

You sigh. “I’ll wear it when they come, ok? If…they ever fucking show up.” 

“I want you to wear it tonight.”

“Ugh.” 

You turn to go, suddenly exasperated and exhausted, until he pulls you back against the hard line of his body, claiming your mouth in a fiercely probing kiss. With his forehead pressed to yours he says through gritted teeth, “I’m asking you to marry me, y/n.” 

Maybe you can blame the wine, but it’s only then that you realize he’s serious. Your fingertips turn to claws, digging into the arms of his suit jacket. The flesh is so solid underneath. This is not a dream. 

This is not a drill. 

“John?” 

If you’re misreading this situation–again–you will lose your fucking mind. 

“I love you with every bit of my black, broken heart, y/n. I know I don’t deserve you, but I will spend every second we’re together trying to make up for what I did to you. Will you marry me?” 

You don’t answer him immediately, standing on tiptoe to press your lips to his. He’s the one who draws back first, searching your face desperately for the answer to his heartfelt question. 

“Yes! Yes, you dummy.” He nips you a little for that, but soon it turns into another long and sultry kiss, your arms flung around his neck, your bare back pressed into the wrought-iron railing under the fury of his ardor. 

Later, with his arms around you in a tight embrace, he grumbles, “I’m sorry I made this so painful.” 

You laugh a little, at yourself, and him. “How else would we go about anything, John?”

“Very funny.” You kiss his ear, snuggling into the bend of his neck again. The warm, spiced scent of his cologne and his skin is nearly as maddening as his kisses.

“Can we go upstairs now? I have something I want to show you.” He chuckles darkly at this, sucking at the skin of your neck, winning a shudder and your clit singing out with approval. 

“What a coincidence, my love.”

You decide you’ll never tire of hearing that. 

***

You cannot stop kissing. 

You are practically joined at the lips from your little enclave of a balcony, through the halls, and the elevator, and the whole walk to your room. Once you make it through the doorway John presses you up against the door as soon as it’s closed, his hand finding its way through the slit in your dress to cup your ass. 

You’d be a liar, if you said you hadn’t thought of that, when you’d selected it earlier. 

You do not rip each other’s clothes off though, like in some bosom-buster romance. You both are seeming to savor this closeness together, making out like teenagers, grinding against each other through your nice clothes. You moan as John takes mercy on you, sliding one of his muscled thighs between your legs, smiling against your mouth. 

“Wicked man.” 

“You love it.” 

“I love you. And–I’m going–to ruin your nice suit.” 

“Please do.”

What is the American version of noblesse-oblige?

You are so pent up that you nearly cum like that, riding his leg with his lips on your neck, sucking the tender flesh like he means to devour you. 

You see scarves in your future. Lots of them.  

But then he is moving you across the room, practically picking you up with an arm around your waist, guiding you down onto the couch. 

“I messed up again,” he muses, kneeling before you. “I was supposed to get down on my knees for you. Want a redo?” You laugh breathily as he pulls the scrap of silk that passes for panties down your thighs, his lips gravitating to the inside of your knee. He nips you lightly, making you jump. 

“I think…this more than makes up for it,” you sigh, as he kisses up the soft flesh of your inner thigh. The ring on your left hand glints in the low light as you run your fingers through his raven hair. The slit in the skirt wins again, making it so easy to sweep the fine fabric aside, leaving you spread bare before him. The hunger in his dark eyes lights your world on fire, and when his tongue touches your clit you think you might see God, or at least, your own version of heaven. 

The world is golden-edged, and maybe it’s stupid–but in that moment you feel like nothing bad can touch either of you.  

[vigilskeep]

You mentioned Sol & Minerva interacting in the tags of a post and now I’m curious what you think the dynamic would be like between Sol and your other protagonists

sol’s family fled ferelden when they were a kid because of the blight, so they have an extremely weird relationship with the concept of the Hero Of Ferelden and would be a little nervous to meet her in a deeply uncharacteristic way. meanwhile, minerva would recruit sol to the wardens faster than you can blink. oh a world-class darkspawn slayer who’s, yeah, impulsive, but also fearless, charismatic, and adaptable, and has even thought about joining up because they want out of their current life situation which happens to be a faction minerva has beef with? Hers Now. i actually had them interact in that post in a theoretical situation where sol is pregnant because that’s the only thing i can think of that would slow her down. legendary minerva viago custody battle let’s go

varric picked sol out partly because they are (in his eyes) keir if he was funny and likeable. (scrappy sword and board human warrior fereldan blight refugee who cares a lot about a sibling figure.) keir would IMMEDIATELY clock this and sigh internally. even today he has to endure whatever the fuck varric’s issue was and now he has to grieve about it too. sol when dealing with keir would probably poke the bear a lot so to speak because they’re very good at noticing when someone is actually all bark no bite and they would think he’s funny when he gets snappy. they don’t respect him and only think of him as varric’s old friend rather than a Great Hero of Thedas or whatever. i think he would find their particular mixture of high energy and pessimistic beliefs irritating. keir loves people who are passionate about things; sol is easily bored, they usually don’t want to hear or give lengthy explanations, their mind skips from one thing to the other. he would probably also be the one to notice the real way in which sol is dangerous: not just that they’re an impulsive live wire, but also the other thing he and they have in common, which is their intensely specific priorities. they would both let the world burn if like 5-10 specific people didn’t need it to live on. and he would, rightly or not, consider their set of 5-10 people—well, mostly the central antivan crows—to lead in more questionable directions than his set

toramar cadash would think of sol as a kid who’s been through a lot. he sees them and is immediately not happy with varric’s choice; this weight should have landed on the sturdier, more experienced shoulders of someone who could actually handle it and, ideally, not come out broken the other side. and someone who isn’t visibly the absolute worst shot at getting solas to hear them out! but he can’t change things now so all he can do is show confidence. sol is sharp enough to pick up on that but shrugs it off. one major thing which is continually hysterical to me: sol is andrastian, and used to listen to varric. resulting in the fact that there is a non-zero possibility to them that toram is legitimately andraste’s herald. because they are also an objectively funny person whose mind somehow moves on quickly from this kind of world-shaking concept—got things to do and places to be!—this doesn’t massively affect how they talk to him. but it is present and they do give his opinions more respect than they would most people’s. interpersonally toram quite likes sol. they’re fun and a breath of fresh air; most of the people he talks to these days are just so squeamish about lines of work like the ones they come from. they remind him of sera a little bit and sera was a massive favourite of his. this makes him go back around again to feeling worse about their involvement lmao

[teecupangel]

So, I've been thinking about the Desmond line lately. Mostly about Insane!Connor but I would like to hear from you how you think the Desmond line would be while insane.

There is an insane Altaïr somewhere here in the blog but, as usual, trying to search it proved fruitless XD

Let’s start with Altaïr. His insanity is tempered by Al Mualim’s teaching. He is known to have revolutionized the Brotherhood in terms of techniques and tools. The truth is that both have been created and perfected via experiments of which his victims did not sign up for. He has no remorse for using others to satisfy his curiosity but he knows how to toe the line. He learned how to toe the line. He’s known as a legendary mentor, the father of the Modern Brotherhood, and no one would dare say anything else. Masyaf itself has turned a blind eye over his more than questionable methods because of loyalty and an understanding that there is a line that Altaïr will not cross. He will not harm the innocent. In this one, Abbas would never have the chance to destroy the Brotherhood from the inside because Altaïr would have taught his sons everything.

And Sef?

Sef has always been a curious boy and he likes it when his subjects don’t know that they were being experimented on.

.

Ezio, on the other hand, grew insane after the death of his father and brothers. His insanity took the form of how he acts as an Assassin. His first assassinations were brutal and undeniable painful. Mario reprimanded him about it, trying to drill in his mind how they were meant to be quick and painless. They kill to protect people. The swiftness of their kill is a show of their belief that even their targets were humans who deserved to be respected in death.

So Ezio does things differently. He toys with them first, takes away what they love and care about. He doesn’t kill innocents, of course, but… planting evidence, whispering to the right person about certain damning information, destruction of property holding important priceless items…

There were more than one way to make a person wish for death to come closer.

.

Ratonhnhaké:ton, on the other hand, was curious of people. Of these colonizers who act both like they wish for harmony and take what wasn’t theirs. He listened to the spirit because he love his village. He listened to Achilles because these lessons make him stronger and gave him a better understanding of the world outside his village.

Charles Lee deserved to die because he dared to trample on his village’s peace and killed countless of people. Everyone else?

They were on his way.

One did not care how many ants they step on while walking, after all.

Haytham Kenway though.

He wanted to know what made Haytham Kenway tick.

What was behind that polite condescending facade.

His mother had been worried that he inherited the darkness in his father’s eyes but Ratonhnhaké:ton knew…

Haytham Kenway’s darkness was one born of suffering and grief.

Ratonhnhaké:ton’s darkness had always been lurking.

Watching…

Waiting…

And Ratonhnhaké:ton let it play whenever it wished.

Why shouldn’t he?

.

Desmond knows how to act normal. He has seen people do it. He has mastered acting like them.

There was only one person who saw through his act.

His mother.

And nobody listened to her.

Everyone saw Desmond as mediocre.

Average.

Except his mother.

His mother saw him for who he really was and she was afraid.

He didn’t understand why though.

Until he relived Altaïr’s memories.

And he realized.

His mother knew of the truth because it must have been a tradition in their family.

To leash a monster using specific lessons that will ingrained rules upon them.

The way her (and Desmond’s) ancestor had been.

And living as Altaïr was exhilarating. For once, he felt feelings that was so similar to his that it was easy to fall into them. High synchronization rate that they’ve never seen before.

Ah.

Desmond would have had so much fun watching Altaïr every day.

Then… he started to dream…

He looked a lot like Altaïr but… he wasn’t Altaïr. In these dreams, Altaïr was there was well. Older, wiser…

And he…

He learned quite a lot in that dream.

Enough to try and see how Lucy Stillman would react to being one of his experiments.

[physalian]

Wicked (part 1) was a solid adaptation

Saw Wicked last night. Only seen the musical once and for a movie longer than both halves of the original combined, the extra added minutes aren’t wasted. I can't exactly praise a movie for storytelling when its legwork was done near beat-for-beat already in the musical, and in the original book, but if you haven't or won't see anything except this film: Yes, it has a very good story.

But I want to talk about what I think is the best example of a “maybe they weren’t so terrible after all” villain redemption retcon, of which Elphaba is kind of the poster child of this whole trend. Why she works, and why something like Cruella did not. Not specific to this version at all.

Quick synopsis: Wicked is an alternate telling of the events before The Wizard of Oz, the backstory of the Good Witch Glinda and the Wicked Witch of The West. It is not the story of how good triumphed over evil, how Elphaba devolved or perhaps was always mean and nasty and underdog Glinda saved the day.

Instead, it’s a deeply political (and whoo boy is it relevant today) smear campaign against the disenfranchised and the minority population of Oz—the talking animals. Elphaba is the underdog, an up-and-coming bright-eyed sorceress taken under the wing of her magic school’s legendary professor, with hopes to one day meet the Great Wizard of Oz. There she meets mean-girl Galinda and for about half a classic mean-girl storyline, the two are enemies. Galinda makes amends, the two become friends, and they go together to Oz to meet the Wizard…

Who is an even worse man behind the curtain than in the ‘39 movie, a charlatan and a fraud, who, when Elphaba refuses to let him abuse her magic to scapegoat the talking animal community, launches said smear campaign, turning Elphaba into a pariah. Galinda (now Glinda) stays behind as the events of Wizard of Oz play out, using her socio-political savviness to help Elphaba where she can. Oh, and the melting? Well, the Wizard isn’t the only master of illusions.

—

The ingredients are all there for a ridiculously base “girl boss” plot about this OP Mary Sue who just will not get taken seriously by the ugh “men” around her (and this is absolutely a feminist storyline screaming high notes from the rooftops) until she shows them all they’re idiots and fools and she’s amazing. The bullying classmates, Glinda’s narcissism, Elphaba’s unprecedented raw power with magic.

Except it has the one thing so many recent “girl boss” movies don’t: You like Elphaba and she’s not perfect, and, you like Glinda (eventually). She’s not arrogant and flawless. She’s introverted and can come off as rude and unfriendly but she just lacks foundational relationships to help her socialize, and in the face of the shallow dipshits at her school, she has every reason to be rude and unfriendly.

Glinda, too, is naïve, but not cruel, save for one moment where she immediately owns up to it once she realizes how badly she screwed up, risking the thing she cares about most—her reputation and popularity and likability—to help a girl who selflessly gave her the other thing she cares about most: The chance to also become a sorceress.

But most importantly: Elphaba is a victim, not the architect of so much of this story. Mary Sues do everything right without any effort, they don’t struggle, they don’t overcome any fears or prejudice or limitations. Elphaba isn’t the one loudly and proudly demanding an audience with the Wizard. She isn’t going around praising herself and her abilities. She has a lot of power, but never learned how to use it, and she doesn’t luck into her story, she’s explicitly, strategically manipulated into her role.

She'd be more of a Mary Sue if the Wizard's offer was genuine and he was actually a good person, then she really would have lucked her way into fortune by virtue of being inexplicably adept at magic. But she's not, and he's not.

The story manages to build her up without dragging everyone else down. Nor does she "turn evil" because the Wizard doesn't respect her for being green, or a woman, he doesn't give a shit, he just wants what she can do for him. She "turns evil" because they have deeply different philosophies and he's standing in her way and she has no other choice but to flee and become a fugitive. She chooses this, the Wizard doesn't kick her out.

But even before that, Elphaba does become popular, her shallow classmates do start to like her (disproving any notion about how the world will hate her no matter what she does, so fuck ‘em), Glinda does actually have a heart and she is smart, just in a very different school of thought from Elphaba. The influence of the Wizard is just so strong that of course they’re going to believe his lies.

It’s not a story about how “this villain was actually the victim of a Tragic Backstory and you should feel bad for them because it’s even sadder than the hero’s” it’s “this villain was actually the victim of a smear campaign, and the heroes are still heroes, but here’s the other side of who they were fighting”.

But it also works because of the story that it is. Ignoring the actual Oz books (and there are many of them): Precedent already exists in the ‘39 movie—the Wizard is already revealed to be a charlatan. Wicked doesn’t rip up the old script, tell you you’re wrong, and then plop in a whole new story that fucks the continuity. Nor does it ask you to change your mind about a villain who doesn’t really deserve redemption in the first place, like, say, one who skins puppies to wear their fur. Instead, it digs into the fissures that were already there and pulls up the rocks to reveal what’s underneath.

And, Elphaba knows she’s going to be seen as a villain, but she’s not happily engaging in “villainy”. She’s doing what she thinks is right, something the audience should agree with, and is choosing to become a pariah to get her way. She never becomes a “villain”, just the antagonist to the hero’s journey, and I don’t remember the ’39 movie perfectly, but “this little rat from another world dropped a house on my sister and is on her way to kill me, too” would make one justifiably upset.

But overall, it’s just a story with layers and nuance that’s sorely missing in its contemporaries, and, like I said, deeply political without strawmanning either side (wellllllllll...). And, it respects the source material.

I also don’t remember the first Maleficent that well, but I think that also did a good job? Back when the live-action remakes weren’t all hot garbage.

So. Yeah. You want to write a powerful female character very explicitly being a feminist icon (and the consequences that come with it)? Elphaba is the perfect example.

[sunshinemoon3341]

I JUST LISTENED TO THE ENTIRE ITHACA SAGA SO SPOILERS AHEAD

The Challenge:

We start off with a Penelope song! And I swear she eats this up!!! She only has 2 songs but she goes crazy with the vocals!!! Her voice is genuinely like lotus, I am just absolutely entranced and just cannot stop listening for even a moment!!!

Penelope saying “husbands old bow” while the suitors say “old husbands bow” is subtle but so meaningful and shows how differently they think of Odysseus!

The “Waiting” callback from the underworld!

————————————————————————-

Hold Them Down:

I’d listened to sneak peaks and snippets from like a year ago but hearing the actual version!!!! Antonious’s voice in this song is insane!

Don’t you dare hurt my baby Telemachus!!

What is their problem with his bones!!! “You’ll have run out of bones to break when you and I are through”(Little Wolf) and “Hold him down while I slowly break his pride, his trust, his faith, and his bones”(Hold Them Down)

The way they talk about Penelope gives me worse shivers than the beginning of Thunder Bringer. But it’s also very telling of what the suitors actually think of Penelope!! They don’t care about her as a person. They just want the crown, and the power.

Bye bye Antonious!!

Overall great villain song. One of, if not, the best I’ve ever heard. I feel conflicted about liking this song because the lyrics are so dark but the song itself is sooooo good!!!

���———————————————————————

Odysseus:

Right off the bat, I love the name. The only names in song titles are monsters(Polyphemus, Scylla, Charybdis) so the title being “Odysseus” indicates that he has become some sort of “monster” and that’s a really cool form of symbolism to show it!(you can also hear the monsters names in the background throughout the song)

DO NOT talk about his family like that!

I like the “Where is he?”(Legendary) reverberation. It’s a nice touch!

He stole their weapons!!! This is some Athena level stuff!!

“You don’t think I know my own palace? I built it!” no notes! That line is one of the most perfect lines to ever grace Spotify!

It’s interesting that the suitors asked for mercy. They know as well as Odysseus does that if he didn’t show up who knows what they would have done!! It’s more of an attempted trick than it is an actual apology.

The way the suitor suggests “open arms” and Odysseus doesn’t even let him finish!!

Odysseus shows his cleverness and why he deserves the title “Warrior of the Mind” in this song.(though he is clever in many other songs).

DONT YOU DARE TOUCH TELEMACHUS!!!!!

Again with the bones!!! “I’ll break the kids hands”. Just leave the kids poor bones alone!!!

That voice after Odysseuss says “mercy”!!

This song was brutal, perfect and I get why Athena told Ares the Odysseus “wanna gonna make everybody b|eed”

—————————————————————��——

I Can’t Help But Wonder:

Heartbreaking!! So cute!!

They both just want to be good enough for each other!! They missed each other soooo much!!

I’ve never cried during any movie, play, book, anything and got almost got me

ATHENA!!!!

The Queen has returned!!!

All the “Warrior of the Mind” callbacks!!

She’s sorry for what’s she did to him! She feels like she turned him into this. This is the the closest thing Athena’s ever gotten to an apology.

He forgives her(or close enough)!! He’s not gonna dwell on all the things he could have done differently, he just wants to see his wife!!

————————————————————————

Would You Fall In Love With Me Again:

Again Penelope ATE THAT UP! I still cannot get over her voice!!

She acknowledges that he’s a bit different but to her he’s still the love of her life!!!

THE WEDDING BED!! Odysseus seems hurt when she asks him to move it. She proved that he’s still the same man!!

The “Waiting” callback again

So cute, so romantic, so beautiful!

————————————————————————

Perfect ending. After everything he sacrificed he was able to get back to the people he did it all for.

10/10 no comments, no suggestions, absolutely nothing!

I’m so excited to see what everyone does next!! I hope Epic grows bigger than I could ever imagine!

I still think the play should have ended with “And that’s my Journessy”

Tysm for reading my little rant

[ficxworm]

A Different Kind of Medicine

Pairings: Wilson x House

Tags: supportive Wilson, House’s Vicodin addiction, implied romantic feelings

Dr. Gregory House, MD, was, if nothing else, predictable in his unpredictability. To everyone around him, he was a brilliant diagnostician whose addiction to painkillers was as legendary as his ego. Dr. James Wilson, his best—and often only—friend, had long ago accepted that House was his own worst enemy. But tonight, for the first time, Wilson saw a glimmer of willingness in House’s eyes—a willingness to try.

“You’re serious about this?” Wilson asked, skepticism coating every syllable.

House rolled his eyes, adjusting himself on Wilson’s worn leather couch with a wince. His leg was already aching. “Don’t look so excited, Jimmy. Yes, I’m serious. For now. That’s as much as you’re getting out of me.”

Wilson nodded, his expression softening. He wanted to reach out, offer some kind of reassurance, but knew better. Instead, he kept it simple. “Then let’s start small.”

For the first time in his life, House let someone take his stash. He handed over the orange prescription bottle to Wilson, who tucked it away with a wary glance, half-expecting House to snatch it back. But House didn’t. He just sighed, his fingers drumming against his thigh, betraying his restlessness.

The first few days were the hardest. The withdrawal symptoms crept up like a slow burn, insidious and relentless. The pain was one thing, but the itch, the craving—the need for Vicodin felt like it was tearing him apart from the inside out. House threw himself into work, trying to drown out the pain with puzzles and patients, but it was never enough.

Wilson was there through all of it. He spent every break checking on House, convincing him to come over after work, even making dinner a few times. At first, the effort was awkward. Wilson wasn’t used to this kind of care, and House wasn’t used to receiving it. There were moments of sharp tension, glances that lingered a little too long. And there were the times Wilson’s hand brushed House’s, lingering for just a second before pulling back.

After a week, House was sitting at Wilson’s kitchen table, staring at a plate of cold spaghetti. He’d been quiet all evening, staring off into the middle distance.

“Maybe this was a mistake,” he muttered. “I need the pills to function. Without them, I’m…useless.”

Wilson leaned forward, voice gentle but firm. “You’re not useless, House. You’re just…not used to relying on anyone but yourself. It’s okay to need help.”

“Yeah? Then why don’t you need help?” House snapped, the bitterness in his voice sharp enough to make Wilson flinch.

“I do,” Wilson admitted, surprising himself. “I just…choose different ways to cope. You’re not broken for wanting to take the edge off your pain, House. You just need to find something that won’t destroy you.”

Wilson held House’s gaze, the vulnerability in it catching them both off-guard. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Finally, House slumped forward, rubbing his temple.

“So, what then?” he muttered. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“One day at a time,” Wilson replied softly. “And if you need me to, I’ll be here for every single one of them.”

The next few weeks were a blur of tension, progress, and plenty of setbacks. House was still grumpy, still sharp-edged, but every once in a while, Wilson would catch a glimpse of something different—a House who was tired, vulnerable, and maybe, just maybe, a little grateful.

One night, House showed up at Wilson’s door unannounced. He looked haggard, his usual bravado worn thin.

“I thought about going to the pharmacy,” House said, not meeting Wilson’s gaze. “But I came here instead.”

Wilson’s heart twisted. “I’m glad you did.”

They didn’t talk about it any further. Wilson let House crash on his couch, and as they sat in the darkened living room, House’s head lolled back on the cushion, his guard down in a rare moment of ease. Wilson found himself looking at him a little too long. He realized, with a pang, that there was something more here—a tenderness he could never quite put into words.

“Thanks,” House murmured sleepily, eyes half-closed. And then, with a wry grin, “For not saying I told you so.”

Wilson chuckled. “You’d hate me if I did.”

“You think I don’t already?” House’s voice softened, and his eyes drifted to Wilson’s. “If I didn’t… I wouldn’t still be here.”

The words lingered, heavier than House’s usual quips. Wilson’s breath caught, and before he could think better of it, his hand reached out, brushing against House’s fingers on the couch cushion. He half-expected House to pull away, but he didn’t. Their fingers rested together in a silent, unspoken acceptance.

As the months went on, the little moments between them grew. The small, shared glances, the lingering touches. It was an intimacy they never discussed but one that quietly became essential. In those fleeting moments, House found something he didn’t dare name—a balm that was, in some ways, as addictive as the Vicodin.

One night, as they sat in Wilson’s apartment after a particularly hard day, House looked up at him, expression open in a way Wilson had never seen before.

“This thing we’re doing… is it just the drugs? Or…” House’s voice trailed off, uncharacteristically hesitant.

Wilson felt his throat tighten. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from House’s face. “No. It’s not just the drugs, Greg. It’s…us.

House met his eyes, the hint of a smirk curving his lips. “You’re sappy, you know that?”

Wilson just smiled, letting his fingers linger against House’s cheek. For once, neither of them tried to hide behind a joke. In the stillness of that moment, they both understood: they had become each other’s medicine.

And for House, that was a kind of healing he had never thought possible.

[actuallysaiyan]

Saiyan Day Special!(Smutty Saiyan headcanons)

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, cunnilingus/oral sex(fem receiving), rough sex, mentions of breeding, Broly turning into his Legendary form, monster fucking(Broly) pairings: Vegeta x Fem!Reader, Son Goku x Fem!Reader and Broly x Fem!Reader a/n: I don't own the artwork. This is another little treat for Saiyan day! Hope you all enjoy! Smut under the cut!

“That’s it,” Vegeta grunts. “Take my cock,”

You’re on the bed on your hands and knees. It feels like it’s been hours since he started fucking you. He’s been needy all day, but he couldn’t hold back any longer. His large hands grip your hips so bruisingly. Your eyes roll back again when the tip of his thick cock hits your sweet spot.

“Haaaah—Vegeta, please,”

He smirks at your sweet little pleading. It’s so sexy to be able to fuck you so stupid like this. He knows he should be spending more time with you like this, but he also needs to train to surpass Kakarot. The thing is he knows he surpasses Kakarot in terms of being able to fuck his woman. There’s no way that Kakarot could be better at love making than the prince of all Saiyans.

“Keep saying my name like that, babygirl. You know I love it when you beg for your prince.”

You feel your thighs shuddering as your muscles start giving out. You’ve had countless orgasms since Vegeta began, but this might be the one that completely ruins you for the day. And then, he’ll probably still fuck you until you cry for him to stop.

“At least…”you pant, “At least let me see you. Let me hold you.”

He pulls out of you, rolling you onto your back. Once you’re in the perfect mating press, he slams himself back into you. The sudden roughness causes you to cry out and he’s just pounding you into the mattress..

“As you wish, princess.” He says smugly. “But be careful of what you wish for…”

Goku could literally go on and on and on for days. You had joked about him being the Energizer bunny when you first started dating, but he really surpassed that. Goku was the kind of Saiyan that enjoyed sex a lot. He craves it constantly, and trying to keep up with his demands could be exhausting for you. Yet, you enjoyed every moment of it.

Right now, he’s between your thighs and lapping at your cunt like it’s the only thing he ever wants to taste in his life. You have to concentrate on your breathing so you don’t just gush all over his face, though he certainly would enjoy it. When his dark eyes dart up to lock with your own, you can feel your thighs tensing at the intense gaze.

“Hehe, I can feel your pussy twitching,” Goku says between slurps. Two of his fingers are deep inside of you, reaching for that sweet spot that makes your legs shake and your eyes roll back.

“D-don’t say it like that,” You mumble timidly.

Goku smirks at your reaction. You’re so adorable like this. And he just loves making you feel so good. It’s one of the best things in this world.

“I know you’re going to cum,” he moans against your cunt. “So you better just let go for me.”

A few more swipes of his tongue on your clit and his fingers pressing against your sweet spot, and you’re gushing all over his face just as you thought you would. Goku looks at you, face drenched in your juices.

“You ready?”

Broly never realized how life could be so good. When he first met you, he was completely smitten by you. But it scared him so much to grow attached to someone. Slowly, you showed him the joys of life on Earth, of which sex was one of his favorites.

It took a little time to get him acclimated to fucking. Usually, he would grow too excited and pretty much try to turn into his Legendary form. This was a scary aspect to showing him the joys and pleasures of love making, but you were patient with him. And as time went on, you learned how to deal with him turning into this form.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” Broly grunts as he pumps into your pussy. “S’too tight! S’too wet!”

Everytime he fucks you, he accidentally fucks himself stupid. Which in turn makes you completely overstimulated. You notice his eyes are starting to turn green, and you groan as you feel his whole body changing shape and size. The cock deep inside of you was growing as well, and your tight little walls were trying so hard to accommodate him.

“Good little pussy,” Broly groans. “Pretty little mate,”

You whine and whimper as he pushes your knees to your chest and he begins to fuck you like he’s going to breed you. You know that no matter what happens, he’s going to take good care of you after this. Broly has learned the art of aftercare.

“Let me breed…”

[katsu28]

hello!! could i request ambrosia from the flower prompt list with roy & gn!reader? thank you <3

my first time writing gn!reader, please let me know if i've made any mistakes! <3

ambrosia: a successful love confession, roy kent x gn!reader, 1.2k

Roy Kent was a lot of things. A legendary footballer, a great coach, an even better uncle. 

Being observant? That wasn’t one of his strong suits. For someone so unnervingly wise, you would’ve thought he’d be, but he wasn’t. Case in point, this little back and forth you’d been having with him for the past few months. You were friends, yes, but you wanted to be more. You thought he would’ve picked up what you were putting down by now, but he hadn’t. 

You’d done everything but throw yourself at him, and he still hadn’t gotten the hint. So now, you were on your last resort—telling him flat out that you fancied him. It was the only way to get it through his thick skull. 

You caught him as he was exiting the locker room this time, calling his name as you jogged towards him. 

His eyebrows flew up in surprise when he spotted you and he held a hand up in greeting. “Hey. You alright?” 

“Good. I’m good, everything’s…” 

“Good?” He supplied, arching a dark brow. You nodded stiffly and he suddenly looked amused at whatever was going on with you. “Glad to hear. You, uh—you look really nice today.” 

He did this all the time. Said or did something that made you think that maybe, just maybe, he might have some more than friendship feelings for you—and then he’d avoid you for the rest of the day. Sometimes even two days. And then he’d be right back at it with the compliments. It was a never ending cycle of the same thing, and quite frankly you were getting tired of it. 

You grabbed Roy’s arm, yanking him across the corridor and into the boot room, letting the door slam shut behind you before whirling around to face him. 

“What the fuck?” 

“I’ve had it with you, Roy.” 

Roy opened his mouth to respond but closed it right after, pressing his lips together in thought before speaking. “Is something wrong?” 

“Is something wrong? Are you fucking kidding me?” 

“...No.” You had to hand it to him, he was doing a good job of looking genuinely confused. His brow furrowed even deeper. “Are you okay?” 

“No, I’m not okay.” You huffed. “I’m in love with you, Roy. And I’ve been trying to drop hints and skirt around the topic hoping that you’d pick up on it, but obviously you haven’t.” 

Roy blinked a few times, processing the new information slowly. “You’re fucking joking.” 

“Why would I even joke about something like this?” You asked shakily, pushing down the feeling of shame creeping through you, threatening to crawl up out of your throat in the form of a pitiful cry. 

This was the worst possible way your plan could’ve gone. Roy didn’t feel the same way about you as you did about him, and now things were weird. You’d probably just fucked up your entire friendship with him, all because you couldn’t keep your fucking feelings in check.

Roy’s mildly amused expression immediately morphed into one akin to horror at the realization that you were entirely serious. “Wait, wait, that’s not what I—I didn’t mean it like that. I just—fuck, I don’t even know what to say.” 

“Maybe start with an actual, thoughtful response? S’not like I just bared my soul to you or anything.” 

He was silent for an agonizingly long time before he inhaled a sharp breath. “I just…I never thought someone like you would ever be interested in someone like me.” 

“How could I not? You care about others even if you don’t show it, you’re passionate about what you do, you’re annoyingly fit.” That last part made Roy straighten up a little bit, dark eyes crinkling at the edges in the tiniest of smiles. “I think I’ve loved you since the day I met you.” 

He just blinked at you some more, like he couldn’t bring himself to believe what was happening right now. That was also something you’d learned about him in the time that you’d known him—the time it had taken you to fall in love with him. 

Roy Kent was a rock. Stagnant. Unwavering. He was the team’s rock, and it helped them to become a top tier Premier League team while also providing a supportive environment for these people he called his friends—his family. 

But being a rock wasn’t always a good thing. Sometimes being a rock meant he was only in his own way of change. He was the reason he believed he didn’t deserve anything good in life. 

You were here to prove him wrong, to prove that he deserved happiness. And maybe it was a little presumptuous of you to assume that you could be a source of that happiness, but neither of you would know if you didn’t at least take that chance. 

Roy was never one for many words, so he did the only thing he could think of that would show you his feelings better than his words ever could. 

He kissed you. 

He kissed you like you’d slip from his grasp at any moment, like if he didn’t hold onto you this all might be a dream and he’d wake up wishing it was real. 

“Fucking hell. Didn’t think I’d ever get to do that.” 

“I wish you’d done it sooner.” 

Roy stifled a snort of laughter, giving you a playful squeeze around the waist. “Me too.” 

“So what now?” 

“We’ll figure it out. Together.” He replied, eyes flicking around your face, taking in each and every one of your features like he was trying to commit you to memory. “And don’t you say a fucking word to anyone, Will. You hear me? Nobody.” He growled, not even looking away from you whilst he spoke. 

Your face grew warm with embarrassment even though you couldn’t see where Will was. You hadn’t even known he was in the room in the first place. Guess the talk about Will the kit man knowing everyone’s secrets had some truth to it after all. 

“No, ‘course I won’t.” The poor boy squeaked from somewhere behind Roy, clutching a pair of boots to his chest with wide eyes. “I’ll take it to my grave.” 

“Good.”

“Thank you, Will,” You offered meekly, peeking over Roy’s shoulder with what you hoped was a reassuring smile. 

“No problem. Happy for you two!” With that, Will practically scurried out of the room, leaving the two of you to finally be alone with each other.  

You smacked Roy’s firm chest halfheartedly, squinting up at him. “You’re so mean to him!” 

“Well I can’t have everyone knowing I’m capable of such a successful love confession, now can I?” 

“Successful? This whole thing was a train wreck, Kent.” 

“Kinda sums us up though, doesn’t it? Wasting the past few months we could’ve had with each other because neither of us wanted to fucking do anything about it?” 

“I guess it does. Not anymore though, right? We’re both on the same page about things? About us?” 

“About offing Will if he tells anyone about what he just witnessed?” You smacked his chest a second time. “Yes, we’re on the same page. Now are you gonna let me take you out to dinner tonight or are we gonna waste even more time?”

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

[yumekojabaml]

ঞじòぴé Chapter 3 ઈଓᦗ࿐

Summary: M/n wants to become a demon slayer but the 21 trio stops him.

author's note: School got me fucked up fr. Y'all like the new update?!?

Part 1

Part 2

"A little context if you care to listen. I find myself in a shit position"— 070 Shake and Raye

M/n — a fierce longing to become a demon slayer.

As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, painting the sky in hues of crimson and violet, M/n stood in an open field, the wind tousling his hair. He had made his decision and felt a surge of adrenaline at the thought of protecting those he loved from the demons that haunted their nights. With dreams of honing his skills and standing side by side with the legendary demon slayers, he envisioned himself wielding a blade, fierce and true.

However, the path he had chosen wasn’t one that offered safety. Word of M/n’s ambitions quickly reached the ears of three formidable figures: Sanemi, Giyu, and Obanai. Each of them revered their roles as demon slayers but knew all too well the toll it could take. They were possessive guardians, bound to protect not only their duties but the one they cherished — M/n.

“Are you out of your mind?” Sanemi’s voice thundered as he appeared, his fiery hair blowing in the wind. His emerald eyes flashed with both anger and concern, piercing the stillness of the field. “You think this is some kind of game? You think you can just pick up a sword and become a hero?” He stepped closer, his presence defiant and protective.

“I’m not asking for your permission! I want to fight! I want to make a difference!” M/n shot back, his heart racing at the intensity of Sanemi’s aura.

Giyu emerged silently from the shadows, his calm demeanor contrasting sharply with Sanemi’s fiery temper. “It’s not just about wanting to fight, M/n. Do you understand the sacrifices you’ll have to make?” His deep voice held a painful weight, full of unspoken fears. “People die all the time, and not everyone makes it back.” He cast a glance at Sanemi before continuing, “If you become a demon slayer, you’ll be putting your life on the line every single night. And you might not return.”

Obanai, leaning against a tree with his snake demon, Kaburamaru coiled securely around him, finally interjected. “You must understand what it means to slay demons. It’s not just a title; it’s a burden. The blood on your hands—those lives you’re responsible for—will haunt you. You need to ask yourself if you’re willing to live with that.” His cool demeanor masked a burning protectiveness for M/n, and for a moment, his eyes softened, revealing the turmoil beneath his stoic facade.

M/n’s heart sank at their fervent objections. “But… I can’t just sit idly by and let others fight for me. What if something happens to you? I want to protect you all!”

“That’s the thing, M/n!” Sanemi shouted, frustration pouring from every word. “We can take care of ourselves! You're our priority. Losing you would be worse than any demon!”

“And you think we want to come back here after every battle, knowing you’re at home, waiting for something that may never happen?” Giyu added, his voice low but heavy with emotion. “You want to see us safe, and we want to see you safe. Becoming a demon slayer might not guarantee that—”

“Listen to me!” M/n cut in, his pulse racing with a mix of defiance and affection. “I can take care of myself! I want to fight alongside you. I don’t care if it’s dangerous or if I might die. I want this.”

Silence clung to the air, each of them battling their emotions and fears. The protectiveness, the love they felt for M/n was unbearable, a fierce hunger that demanded his safety.

Finally, Obanai’s voice broke the stillness, solemn yet gentle. “Then prove to us that you’re ready. Show us that you understand the weight of your decision… and that you’re willing to endure whatever comes after.”

Sanemi looked intensely at M/n, eyes ablaze with determination. “We’ll train you. We won’t let you do this alone.” Giyu nodded, a hint of a smile ghosting his lips.

“Together, then,” M/n whispered, his heart swelling with an indescribable affection.

They are going to make sure to go hard on you just so you give up

[skyguy675]

Entry 9: 5/12/24 - The Unrestrained Coolness and the Related Tragedy of Darth MotherFucking Maul

Darth Maul is so fucking cool. This much is obvious. For a while - and I mean a while - it was the only thing he had going. He rocked up, had like two generic vaguely sinister lines, and then Ray Parks pulled down his hood, ignited his twin-bladed lightsaber of ultimate badassery and treated us to a dazzling display of acrobatics and a combat style he more-or-less had to invent himself. Given how the majority of lightsaber fights in prior movies are just guys wacking deconstructed cameras at each other (no joke), the improved choreography in Phantom Menace (a movie that doesn’t offer a whole lot more than some boring political talk and more than a few racial caricatures) would have been enough, so it’s absolutely above the call of duty that they brought in a concept as mad and as well-done as the double-sided lightsaber (yes I know its called the saber-staff - shut up).

Then he impales a racist, has a one on one with Ewan Mcgregor so intense that the filmmakers had to slow it down in post, before being promptly cut in half.

I mean damn. What an entrance. What an exit. Maul was cool. His weapon was cool. His design was cool. His fucking music is a contender for the best in Star Wars.

Fun fact, his horns were originally going to be feathers, but they got misinterpreted when the prosthetics guys got the concept art. Also, also, Ray Parks forgot he had an earring in when he showed up on set. George Lucas said he quite liked the addition and so it was decided they’d keep it in.

Point is, I love Darth Maul, and if he’d stayed dead there I’d have been perfectly happy with what we got. It was short, sweet, uncomplicated and sometimes that’s all you need. Phantom Menace needed a lot more, of course, but man did they get Maul right. Could he have benefited from more personality? Sure, but it goes without saying that he kicks ass in every bit of the just under fifteen minutes he’s on screen for that movie, and he is ninety percent of the reason that I watch it.

But then comes along Sam Witwer. 

God damn do I love Sam Witwer. As an unabashed, lifelong fan of Star Wars (even though sometimes the fandom makes me want to pull my own eyes out) it is so nice to have him behind the scenes. For Solo, during Maul’s reveal as the movie-long veiled threat of Crimson Dawn (a shitty revelation that ultimately did nothing to improve an otherwise unnecessary movie), the film-makers made a point of wanting Ray Parks (yes they got him back, the legendary stunt and choreography dude himself, to sit in a chair) to stand (showing off his new cg robot legs to catch up any mooks who hadn’t seen Clone Wars) and ignite his double-sided lightsaber, at which point Sam Witwer gingerly raised his hand and delicately informed them that he couldn’t do that on account it being cut in half in Phantom Menace.

It’s just nice to know that there’s someone on the sets of those movies that cares about the same kind of shit as I do - even though it doesn’t really matter. I mean he remade his double-sided lightsaber anyway for season seven of Clone Wars.

So the Witwer Maul is a slight recharacterisation of Maul as we know him from episode one. Or rather, to put it another way, the Witwer Maul is a characterisation of Maul as we don’t know him from episode one. I mean what’s there to know? Step one start the music, step two kick-ass.

But the Witwer Maul has a lot more meat to his bones. First of all he’s got a wider vocabulary than I think we give him credit for, and he’s a lot more contemplative and soft spoken, though prone to not uncommon growling outbursts. You get the sense that he is a man who, having been separated from his Master, from all prior forms of authority and, crucially, direction, is finally stepping - with his new robotic chicken legs - into his own independence. And not just that, but command, for he has an apprentice - a brother - the rather stupidly named Savage Opress. 

There’s a kind of elegance to the way he carries himself, a sort of austere regality, as if the knowledge that he was once Palpatine’s chosen apprentice, privy to all his grand schemes, has rubbed off on him. He seems under no delusion that it was going to be anyone other than him who would be the heir apparent to the Sith.

And this is what I really wanted to talk about. Maul is so fucking cool, just on a basic ass level. Foundation coolsville is he - population Maul.

And what’s funny about this is that he’s, well, one of the most pathetic characters in Star Wars.

I genuinely think Darth Maul, amazingly, has become one of the best written characters in Star Wars. It’s not even something that’s focused on too much, and I think because of this he's able to be so nuanced a character. This is frankly incredible coming from a character who, upon intial inspection, may come across a tad one note; literally all of his lines, barring a choice few, are some variation on “your destruction is near… my evil plan… Ezra, don’t leave me, I’m so lonely.”

That last one’s reading between the lines a little but you get the point.

But I think, when you first meet him in Clone Wars, when he’s a big metal spider, a mad raving lunatic, that is Maul at his purist. I think that animalistic depiction of Maul, chattering and wallowing in a junk world, stays at the core of the Witwer Maul the entire time. And of course he’s brought back to something resembling sanity, but all he can do is rave endlessly about Kenobi and his hatred and his revenge. These things occupy his every thought, and no matter what he does in service of these motivators, he’s never satisfied. He exacts his vengeance against Kenobi by killing Satine before his eyes, and even then, after years of being hunted by the empire, the only thing he can bring himself to do is hunt down that same Jedi that slew him all those years ago and attempt once again to destroy him.

Ultimately, his downfall.

Maul reads to me as a character that is trapped, and maybe he doesn’t fully realise he is until about Rebels, but even then he’s still a helpless slave to his actions. There’s this really poignant moment when he is beaten by Ben Kenobi in a spaghetti western style duel over the Dunes of Tatooine, where he lies dying in his nemesis’ arms and proclaims that Luke will avenge them.

Them.

It’s almost an admission that Maul knows his actions had no great meaning to them, that it was nothing but baseless slaughter in the name of a primal rage, but that he felt helpless to do anything else because hating was all that he knew. It was all he could understand - Sidious had seen to that. Hatred was quite literally his fuel, it got him through every tribulation and he knew that as long as he could hold onto it, hold onto his mindless thirst for vengeance against someone or other, he could survive through any level of setback, brutality or degradation, be it the lost of his destiny, his legs, his brother. 

Maul is a heinously awful person, but in that awfulness there is a victimhood that shaped him to what he became - a pathetic, vile monster, demanding in every way except words to be put down. And when he is, he accepts it without hesitation, without resentment, without anger. He finally lets it go, assured that the one thing he desired most, righteous vengeance for the wrongs committed to him by the person that truly manufactured them, will come to fruition.

Yeah I’ve watched Darth Porg’s “Maul - Hatred” video before, why do you ask?

[deathmetalunicorn1]

um so some of the ror gods and humans with a reader that got like a really nasty burn over their eye and is really tall like 8 feet. Anyone you want but can you please include Thor, Lu bu, Loki, Buddha, and Adam. Platonic or not I don’t really care. You don’t have to do it of course though

-You didn’t like crowds, as you always stuck out like a sore thumb, but being 8 feet tall is certainly an attention grabber, unless if you’re a god, but you were only a human.

-You hated being stared at like you were a freak of nature, it was something you had to deal with on earth until you found a group of people who loved you for just the way you were.

-That was until they sacrificed you to appease the gods by giving them such a prize.

-Valhalla was different, as there were so many others, mostly gods, who your height or even taller, but many wanted nothing to do with you, as you were a human, you were beneath them.

-You didn’t let that discourage you too much however, as you became popular with the children around who all liked you and treated you nicely, seeing that you were a kind person, not really caring that you were super tall, unless if it was to cheer for you when you got their ball out of trees and things like that.

-After many years in Valhalla, making true friends and parents trusted you with their kids, you were attacked.

-A man threw boiling water at you and the children while you were walking them all home, calling you and the children, both gods and humans, freaks for hanging out together.

-You had lunged, throwing your body over the children and took the boiling water to your face, but protecting them. When he tried to rush at you, you punched him hard across the face, throwing him back and away from the kids.

-One of the children was an ice god, who didn’t know any better, and used his powers to try to cool the burn, which left a nasty scar over your eye.

-You didn’t blame the child, soothing him after you were taken to the infirmary to get treated and the man who attacked you was quickly arrested for assault.

-You luckily didn’t lose your eye but you hid away after you noticed people staring, pointing, even more so than usual, due to your scar. It was the children who basically stormed your house, demanding you back, which touched your heart.

-There was a man in the large field that you played with the children, who had seen you defend the children in the attack, getting hurt and scarred yourself, and the children told you that he wanted to meet with you.

-Thor- Thor didn’t know too many who were taller than him, especially a woman, except for maybe Thrud. His eyes widened only slightly when you approached, towering over him by a good foot at least, before he spoke, “I saw you save those kids from being attacked. Thank you.” You smiled gently down at him, showing him you were indeed, a gentle giant, while the kids were tugging on his cloak, begging Thor to play with them too. You noticed his slight hesitance, as you knew his power was legendary in Valhalla, you could see his fear about hurting the children. However, seeing you play with them and they weren’t at all bothered by you, he eased up a bit, actually playing with a few of them. Thor felt his heart stutter only slightly when you smiled over at him, as you were admiring him for getting over his fear, a bit. He sent you a small nod and a tiny smile back, wanting to see more of them, just for him.

-Lu Bu- This man looked quite intimidating, from his muscles and tattoos to his scars and sharp teeth, he was very unique looking but you could sense he was incredibly strong. He grinned up at you as you shied away from him, blushing from his intense stare before he grinned, showing off his teeth which made the kids call out in awe, “Nice scar.” Your cheeks warmed just a bit more before he grinned, “I saw you protect these kids and punch that bastard. Wanna fight?” the kids came to your defense, hugging your legs, many of them upset, telling him not to hurt you. You giggled at his surprised face, before consoling the kids, telling them that he just wanted to spar, not actually fight. Lu Bu was amazed to see someone so strong treating others so gently, especially kids. The thought of you holding his child filled his mind suddenly, spooking him, but even as he shook the thought away, as some of the kids grabbed his hands, asking to play with him, the thought never left.

-Loki- Beamed brightly up at you, “Wow! You’re so tall! How’s the weather up there?” you pouted lightly, grabbing and pinching his cheek lightly which made him and the children laugh before you surprised them by picking Loki up, setting him on your shoulders, “You tell me!” he laughed warmly, holding his gut that you turned his joke around on him before he easily hopped off, floating down to the ground. He was trying to hide the blush on his face, as he had been surprised by you picking him up so easily. Loki was like a big kid with you, he saw children swinging on your hands and he grabbed your hand next, “My turn!” you grinned at him, swinging him around easily, having fun. You were so kind to the children, so warm, and willing to put up with his antics! You were perfect!

-Buddha- Grinned as the kids all ran over to him, cheering out his name as he grinned, allowing himself to be plowed down by their hugs while you approached, sitting nearby. Some of the kids then ran to you, throwing themselves into your arms, making you grin as Buddha managed to get unburied and sat up himself. He gave you a grin, leaning his chin on his hand, “Tough to find people who don’t act the way they look. You’ve got a kind heart.” You blushed lightly at his praise, not really used to it as you smiled, thanking him warmly which made his mouth fall open just lightly, you were absolutely stunning when you smiled! The kids grabbed their ball and begged you both to play with them. Buddha got up with a slight groan, stretching his back lightly before he ran after the kids who squealed with delight, running to hide behind you, which made you laugh. Buddha looked at you with such gentle fondness, seeing you smile, wanting you to never stop.

-Adam- He immediately approached you and embraced you, his head just below your chest and arms as far as they would go around your waist, “Thank you, Y/N, for saving the children.” You were stunned by his affections, but you did nothing to push him away, feeling a warmth as he patted all of the children on the head, like he was the father of all of them, including the few god children. He grabbed your hand and tugged you down, patting your head as well, which made you grin lightly before his hand brushed against your scar. It didn’t hurt but he looked so upset that you had gotten hurt, worried before he spoke, “You were very brave to do that, my daughter. I’m proud of you.” His praise made your heart warm, and a smile rise to your lips before you and Adam were both quickly roped into playing tag.

[aconflagrationofmyown]

Origin of the Hollywood Hullabaloos Biker Gang

A Sarge & lil Mama Oral History (Elvis Presley fanfiction)

NOTE: Below are excerpts from Chapter Nine of the “Presley’s Remembered”, a project taken on by the youngest of Elvis and Elaine’s children, compiling interviews, recollections and anecdotes of their famous parents from the early days of their marriage till their late father’s death. In some instances the children interviewed the friends and acquaintances themselves, in other cases they utilized published memoirs and diaries, as well as interviews given on talk shows, radio and to official biographers. The sentiments below are included for their reminiscent value, they do not reflect the opinions or convictions of the Presley family, nor their endorsement as a perfectly accurate portrait of a very public family whose most private motivations were known to them and them alone.

Warnings: PG-13 at the worst? hinted mention of infidelity, the mob, cuckolding bets and a sickening amount of fluff

Billy Smith (cousin): There was this idea, Elvis pitched it to us but I’m pretty sure it was Elaine’s idea but, anyway, the idea was to start a motorcycle club, right? Like, that’s, that’s all there was to it, which sounds silly now in retrospect because it became such a, well, such a big thing ya know? But initially it was just Elvis Presley standing in his backyard in LA saying: “what if we made a bike club and only invited people we like?” And of course everyone immediately became supportive and worked really hard to be likable, you know, to guarantee an invite to be a member. A member of this club that didn’t even exist yet.

Red West (entourage): Oh yeah the bike club. You know how that started, right? It was nothin, I mean -nothin! Elaine and Thumper were already bikin’ through the Hollywood hills, down the canyons and all that whenever Elaine was in town. It’s what they did when Elvis wasn’t home and Elaine wasn’t on set with him. Sidecars and the crowd of kids strapped in and just crusin’. Probably kept the woman sane havin’ somethin’ she could sorta do on her own, get the uh, uh, ya know the uh, -any disgruntlement out. But it became pretty obvious Elvis wanted in on it. He got so excited by this idea Elaine had of him startin’ a whole club, and I remember he came tearing into the den at Hillcrest house to tell Elaine about it and, uh, Elizabeth was there, and uh, Elaine she, she listened to him real patient and animated like always -she always was that way for him you know, humoring him I think- and after he finished with all the details she just said, “that’s brilliant E!” and told him they oughta invest in, in uh, in some specialized leathers if they were gonna do it properly. And he said side cars for the babies too, like that was new, and she said “of course” and then you’ve EP tearing back outside to get the stuff ordered. And let me tell you, he was on cloud nine till he called Ann to tell her about it, and instead of the, the, the excitement, I guess, that he was expecting from her too, she was really miffed. Ann kept saying she and Elaine already had that and he needed to find another hobby. It was like stickin’ a pin in a balloon, man, it went from the only thing he cared about to being worth nothin’. Took Elaine like, like a week or more to build him back up. Those days they, they were kinda rough on him, little things really hit him hard at that time. Elaine -she was the only one to realize how, fragile I guess, fragile he was. Yeah. But of course, in the end, she cheered him up and now ya have the Hollywood Hullabaloo Club and it’s legendary.

Ann-Margret (co-star): Well now, I don’t want to overstep, overshare anything but you are right, it was very private at first, just me and Elaine going on joyrides with the kids. The kids got a little stir crazy in LA, more than they did in Memphis, you see. Elaine was very conscious that they needed to get out and be outside and there were concerns that in LA it wasn’t as safe for them to do so. So she had these custom made sidecars -trailers, is what they really were- and we’d pile them in and go out into the hills or sometimes south to the desert and just, get some sunshine and some wind in our faces. It was very special to me, that companionship with her, I felt it was very -healing, for the both of us. And I think, well, I believe it helped me feel forgiven. That she would share that -share herself- with me, and I found myself seeking her company more and more. Elaine was really a wonderful person to enjoy things with, she didn’t have to say a lot but you were never in doubt about whether she was engaged or not, she was always engaged. In the smaller things just as much as the large, and those rides were really simple and joyous, and I was a little selfish, I suppose, about them. She was very much herself on them, she was doing them for her own enjoyment, her children’s, it was one of the few times I saw her be abrupt with photographers or even fans. She really carved out that time for enjoyment and I had seen that, recognized that. But since I didn’t have the tact that she had, I just went ahead and told Elvis that those were special to her. And I guess that suggested his addition would detract from that, because it would, it would have suddenly made it more -in a bad way. I think he knew how much she gave to him, how much of herself, and how much she allowed him to have his own things and not encroach, she was so rarely jealous, really seemed to understand he was a force of nature and one person couldn’t hold all that attention. So I think he wasn’t so much sulking over not being wanted, as he was struggling with trying to mimic her, and be ok with her having her own thing. And he just wasn’t built like that, he needed all of her most of the time, and that’s just, that’s just how it was.

Jerry Schilling (entourage): first off I had to find someone who would make those massive pull behind wagons for the kids. And they had to be real safe, obviously, and it was a feat of engineering, Elaine designing them and making them exist. I’ve never seen Elaine throw money at something like she did those side cars. That’s not including the legal bribes either. And those ones lasted for about five whole months and then EP up and says it’s gonna be a whole gang and there’s gotta be more. This time lots of little side cars instead of the two large ones that Miss Ann and Miss Elaine were using before. So, with the bike club they just sorta divvied the kids up between everyone and there were some of the folks like the Cooke’s who had kids of their own. So it was a big production but the end product was such a blast, it was worth it. I mean it just went to show that EP really didn’t want to do much of anything without hauling his family along, just wasn’t compelling to him without them. And the gang grew from there.

Barbara Stanwyck (co-star): Oh god, the Hollywood Hullabaloo -god those were good times. It got to where I used to look forward to the parties and the dinners, because those Presley’s were masters at hospitality, but the biker gang? Oh that was madness and the most childish thing I’d engaged in -in forever. I didn’t have much of a childhood, been on the grind since 13, and the idea of having something so silly and fun and wholesome and just doing it, appearances and logistics be damned? God that was, that was everything and I know I wasn’t the only one who went in a little timid and then became rabidly devoted to our group. Hollywood’s culture was changing back then, and there were lots of rivalries and splits between the old guard and the new and serious actors and entertainers and it could all get a little mean and sore. But in the bike club? All that went away, you were with people and it humanized your rivals and your exs and turned you all into kids for a minute. I know a lot of rifts got healed through that, just as many wrecks of motorbikes happened too, but I’d say it was worth it.

Elaine Presley (when asked by her daughter): it was on the set of Roustabout, I believe, when Barbara piped up and told Elvis she knew how to ride. There was this brief break between filming one day and you should have seen how fast he tossed her onto his bike and drove off to prove it. Giddy in a cloud of dust and the whole movie set squawking about when they’d be back. She handled it like a champ, and I made a metal note she was gonna be invited, I could tell by his face that she was the sort we were looking for

Marlon Brando (actor): Hollywood can get so insular, so claustrophobic with all these cliques and pretentiousness and such. Drains your life away, and in between projects that can be a very down time. I was contemplating not even staying in the city for breaks when I heard about this lady who had succeeded at making a judge pass a law legalizing these motorcycle carriages. It was so she could bike with her kids. All five or six of them. A lotta kids. And my first thought was: she is either the worst mother or the most devoted one on earth. And I was curious about the mechanics of it. And so I asked around and heard from Sinatra that it was Elvis Presley’s wife. Which made sense, that’s where the money to throw at judges came from but I’d never heard anything that gutsy about her before that. I mean really, there were the rumors about Cooke but that was the usual shit. By far, the most I heard about her was the betting pool at the Coconut Grove where they had a pool over who could cuckold Elvis Presley first. And other than that, it sounded like she was good at making bacon and babies, right? I had this opinion of them (the Presley’s) that they had no idea what they were in for in this town. There was this contempt and lecherous fascination everyone in the industry had for them -and they were so generous and gracious about it. I really had some contempt for them, for what I thought was their naïveté. Until the thing about the bike carriage. I realized that Mrs Presley must’ve been sorta ingenious, or else hired someone clever, and I sure wished I had a mother who cared to take me along like that, you know? I just kept thinking of those carriages, kept thinking how it had to be an avid motorcycle fanatic to design them and so I stopped by the shop that made them. Asked who designed them. They said Elaine Presley. I went to Hillcrest House. I wanted to meet someone who liked motorcycles and kids that much. I mean, she had to be a good sort of person with those interests, right? Course then it was, it was like meeting human sunshine. Heavily pregnant sunshine. Elaine showed me around the garage, or the kids did is more like what happened, gave me a tour and she said how her husband would be bummed he wasn’t there to meet me. And I didn’t mind him, I mean I would have liked to meet him, and sure there’d been the business of Rita and him before the marriage. But that was water under the bridge, she’d used him to make me jealous, all there was to it. She said he was sweet, actually that’s my word. Boring is the word by Rita used. It had me thinking about him back then, it’s like, shit, he was a baby, you know? And the women they ate him up, used him like Rita did, used him like a bull. Made sense why he wanted to be married so bad, have someone who wasn’t in it to eat him up. But uh, my interest was in the woman who made those sidecars. In parting Elaine said I was welcome to swing by again, that I really had to meet “her boy”. I realized she meant Elvis Presley, he was her boy, and that made sense. That's how it felt it should be. So I ended up opening my big mouth and assuring this sweet girl I’d swing by again in a day or two. And of course all the kids watching me swear to their mother, I had to come back. That’s how I came to be -embroiled- in the scheme.

Lamar Fike (entourage): Yeah, yeah she’d be puttering around in the garage a lotta afternoons, before dinner but after the market and sports games. She’d be under a bike or two and the kids would be passing her wrenches and she’d be drilling them on their times tables. Homeshcoolin’ ‘em while changin’ oil, it was the craziest, loveliest thing I’d ever seen. Course the kids were so responsive to it, she’d give ‘em little rewards when they got numbers right, let ‘em tighten a screw or whatever. And it taught ‘em a lot about life and putting in the work for all the fun they then went and had on the road with their mama and Thumper. They saw her getting dirty and frustrated sure, they also saw her stick with it, finish a job. And keep coming back even though she coulda passed it onto me or anyone else. And yeah, sometimes EP would come home from the studio a little early and find her out there and he’d just lay down right next to her, get his nice Hollywood clothes all filthy, passin’ her stuff and askin the kids ‘bout their day. Course then the kids they’d go through the times tables or the spelling or everything all over again, whatever she’d had ‘em just rehearse and whatever they were whining about doin’ with her they’d get all excited to show him. The progress that they had made, they liked showin off for him. He liked workin’ out there with her, so much so sometimes you’d have to leave ‘em be, clear the garage out, ya know. He found that attractive about her, the kerchief in her hair and the grease and shit, he didn’t mind, probably got in trouble for ruinin’ his clothes but he liked playing with her like that. He liked her like that. And yeah, one day Marlon Brando just sauntered through, pulled along by young Jesse who was showin’ him everything and Elaine really actin’ sorta star struck. She wagged her finger at me when escorting him out, I remember she said “don’t you tell on me, Lamar!” -and I thought it was the cutest thing as all she’d done was be nice to him, she was just real loyal and scared of hurtin’ EP. Course they all became friends later.

Ann-Margret (co-star): The angriest I’d ever seen Elaine was after my phone call with Elvis. She actually drove to my house in her rare spare time and to use an Elvis' turn of phrase, she lit into me. She said I was really insensitive and stupid for discouraging him about the club and that I’d made him feel burdensome and like she, Elaine, was trying to get away from him in the few days he had to be with them. Which we both knew I hadn’t meant it that way, but of course that’s how he took it and she had a right to be mad. I just didn’t expect her to be as angry as she was. I truly hadn’t seen her temper to that degree, had once doubted its existence. She was very even keeled about annoying or hurtful things, I mean she found out about the affair and just sorta shrugged, for god's sake. I thought that would be the ultimate test. But no, no this is what sent her fury skyrocketing, she really was so sensitive to him being wanted by them and never feeling like he crashed in on his own family when he came back. Even though that’s exactly what he did. He was a huge disruption every time he returned but that’s not how husbands should be, that’s now how homelife is done, so she simply forbade it from being taken that way. And I realized then just how much she loved him, not only would she give up every shred of indepence for him, she told me that if I ever slipped up like that again and made him feel unwanted by either of us, she’d make sure I never saw them again, or could ever even get in contact. I remember really thinking she was gonna jam the firepower up my tush a few times that conversation. It was like a Chanel No. 5 scented tornado and it shook me up good. I never tried to stick up for Elaine Presley again, she said she could do it herself, so I let her. Before the month was out, there was a biker gang and we had matching leathers and a name and over a dozen new additions. There was nothing serene about those rides ever again, but it pulled Elvis out of a terrible funk that I blamed him for, and she didn’t. And that was the difference. She just changed the atmosphere till Elvis Presley could glow again, whatever it took. For the mid 60’s it was the Hollywood Hullabaloos and she invented them for him.

Red West (entourage): Ok but you know why she did it, right? Elaine liked it quiet and she liked it all small and private but she knew with EP wanting in that she couldn’t let Marlon Brando into the girl gang and not her husband, right? Like, she knew that. It was so funny the night she told him at dinner that Brando had come to the house and she’s all “actually it was me he wanted to see” and EP is like an excited puppy all wanting details and he got about fit to burst with excitement over the idea of Brando joining the gang and then it was like, a switch went off in his brain. He went all pale and quiet, smile went away. You could tell he was visualizing his wife on a bike with Marlon Brando. I thought he’d break the table top he got so angry by this mental image he hadn’t even admitted to. It was hilarious. And Elaine you know, she never argued with him. He was so jealous of her, and she never argued like a lotta broads would have. He would be irrational and she’d say “ok”. Then suggest a loophole. Always worked, and the loophole was him bein’ in too. Startin’ a whole gang. Thumper hated the idea, told EP the same and it deflated him, man. But I’m tellin’ ya, Elaine knew if she was going to get what she wanted then she had to bring him along, let him in on the action when he was on his free time. Became a big ole deal after that, remembered as his bike club and stuff, but nobody remembers it was ‘cause Elaine Presley was a clever broad and wanted to go riding with her friends.

Elizabeth Mansfield (family friend): We were at the table and after his initial excitement you could see Elvis pondering the logistics of Marlon Brando taking a liking to his wife and right about when he started to idly push his food around on his plate Elaine pipes up casually and says “his voice is sorta annoying, though.” and Elvis snaps “whose?” and Elaine goes “Mr. Brando’s! His voice doesn’t seem to match the rest of him. But I guess I’m spoiled.” The rest of the dinner was spent with Elvis defending Brando’s dialect.

Jerry Schilling (entourage): ok, no, no it wasn’t just sidecars ok? This was an entire procession of bikes and trailers and stuff, eventually we’d take these massive packed dinners Elaine prepared ahead of time and we’d have the most luxurious picnics and bbqs up in the hills and sometimes there was even camping overnight, if enough of the security made it with us. Elvis and Elaine had already done a lot of riding up there themselves, just goin’ on dates up there long before Thumper and Elaine took to it when he was gone, so E and E, they had all these areas scouted out and would even say this area is good for camping or this one’s got a creek or there’s a good tree to relieve yourself behind. Course with how all over each other they always were, we used to joke there wasn’t much country around that they probably hadn’t used for coupling. Every tree ya pissed against ya had to wonder if it’d seen action.

Barbra Cooke Womack (wife of Sam Cooke): Some of my last, carefree memories of Sam before his death were from that summer when they started the Hullabaloos. We weren’t really good bikers, Sam collected cars, that was his hobby, but being a biker wasn’t the chief requirement for the gang. If you were bad at biking they gave you a helmet and called it a day. Elvis would say “you know where the accelerator is right?” and Sam would shoot back “It’s the break I’m worried about” and Presley would say “that’s no way to live”, and Sam would laugh and that’s the sorta attitude they were looking for. Had to be carefree. And really, it pulled Sam and I outta the depression we’d been in after the loss of our son. (Mr. and Mrs. Cooke’s two year old son drowned in their swimming pool the previous year.) Elaine’s still got a picture hung at Graceland of her and Sam and Elvis and Anne all jiving on a plank of plywood. They’d have these dance offs and the kids were judges, and they’d dance it out on this minuscule square of wood that they hauled up for the grill. Because yes, they hauled a grill up into the hills. Yeah, anyway, one of my favorite pictures is that one, the two teams facing off, Sam and Elaine versus Elvis and Ann, and behind them our daughter Andrea and their girl Ella putting on their best juror faces. Good times.

Ella Presley (daughter): Yes, Andrea and I, with Barbra (Stanwyck) sometimes advising us in matters of technical form, would judge these contests very seriously. Very serious business I’ll have you know, really, really took it gravely. And the parents, they tried to keep it serious for us, that is, as long as possible. Then it would just turn into all out jollification and everyone would start grooving.

Ann-Margret (co-star): they’d be blaring Solomon Burke and Chuck Berry and Otis, we’d get down to anything with a beat, and invariably the kids would end up joining in. Or Elvis would forget he was supposed to be facing off against Elaine and just end up cuddling up to the competition. Like, hey man we have high stakes here, burgers are at stake!

Marlon Brando: What was that -the uh, the Chuck Berry song, Elvis would always grab her and they’d just start swiveling together in perfect unison, ‘most playfully erotic thing I’d ever seen against the glow of a sunset on the hills. The kids were used to it. H-how’s it go? Something uh, something like uh-

Daisy Mae Presley (daughter): Mhmm, yeah, a staple was “You Never Can Tell” by Chuck Berry and daddy loved grabbing mama and acting it out. They weren’t broke teenagers when they married but he was obviously trying to relate to it.

Marlon Brando: uh, how’s it go, it’s uh, uh, (sings mumbling) “It was a teenage wedding and the old folks wished ‘em well,”…yeah, that one. Swiveling, the both of em, in the middle of the campsite. A free show, it was crazy.

Ella Presley (daughter): Jesse and I had some tournaments too, later on. And there was wrestling as well, I remember daddy would get into it with anyone, and then all the kids versus him and Jerry or him and Marlon. Just dancing was something the family did, came natural, that urge to move. Something about a bonfire and twilight brings it out of anyone I think, twilight -you could be anywhere at twilight. You can go back home in your mind.

Jackson Presley (second son): Actually, come to think of it, I’m pretty confident my first memory was sitting on a bike. In mama’s lap, had to be, and looking up at this rustling blob of pink. I later learned the blob was a massive bougainvillea vine and my dad was trying to climb the thorny thing to get back one of my sisters' hair bows. What? Oh, no, I-I don’t know if he was successful. The thorns make me doubt it but, he was stubborn ya know, so if he hadn’t gotten it I bet we’d still be there. So yes, I guess.

Marlon Brando (actor): I ended up liking Elvis, and Elvis’ family, infinitely more than I uh, I anticipated. Not really news is it? (chuckles) I did swing back by Hillcrest House and I got fed the best meal of my life and I got to watch the kids all interacting and I got to watch this famous couple interacting, and something about it really satisfied me. It was holy chaos everywhere, all the time, with a center of peacefulness at its core. Those were genuine, happy times, everyone was still putting effort into being a unit, in their family. Really the glory days of Elaine’s showmanship of you're going to base your judgments about motherhood on the children’s presentation and mental well being. I think if she got a medal, it should be for what she did in the 70’s, to hold them all together, but if you’re thinking of what is now remembered as that classic family, those were the years. Picture perfect, even when you got on the inside, and I wanted inside. You bet I did. Probably because there was always this wicked little undercurrent to keep things interesting, to keep that marriage’s integrity. I saw that, and I liked it. They were best friends, Elvis and Elaine, and the camaraderie floated down to their kids and to the rest of the gang. And I kept coming back for more. And soon I found myself and my precious bike saddled with a sidecar and a Presley child in it, spending my Los Angeles autumn’s getting a sore back from camping on the ground. No one else coulda made me do that, you’d have to pay me and even then, I dunno. But I did it for free, gave my free labor even, over five years, whenever they were in town.

Daisy Mae Presley (daughter): I got Marlon, always. Or almost always. Probably demanded him and raised hell unless I got him, I just really liked his personality. Everyone in the Memphis Mafia was so scared of pissing daddy off by somehow risking us or hurting us, God forbid. So they always drove like pussies when they had us, and there was no fun in that. And Rosalee was always a scaredy cat, so she was with daddy and I got Marlon. Used to ribb Rosalee about how daddy drove like a maniac and so she was always choosing the scariest ride but she always insisted she felt safer with him. And of course she was. We all were. I just didn’t care for safe, ha. Of course, now it’s notorious that a monster joined and was carting Jesse around for a whole summer before we learned he was Nevada Cost Nostra.

Elaine Presley (being asked by a reporter on the street): There were never mobsters in the bike club, Mr. Corleone himself owned nightclubs and his methods were unorthodox, that’s it. He was an entrepreneur. I met his wife once. I don’t I trust my children to mobster or thugs

Daisy Mae (daughter): He was totally a mafia guy. Like a real Italian mafia guy. He helped mama with the FBI wire taps at Graceland for the divorce case, his level of contacts were insane. Oh I…maybe I shouldn’t of said that I-

Marlon Brando (actor): Daisy was a unique kid even back then, never fit in with her sisters, acted like one of the brothers and was fearless. Pretty obsessed with her dad’s attention even back then, but she was always trying to earn it by being a daredevil just like him. It took about two years but once he realized I’d rather die than hurt one of his kids, Elvis gave the go ahead and Daisy and me, we’d take jumps and go over the dunes, catching some much air. The hypocrite was already doing it himself with Rosalee in the sidecar the whole time. But hey, he -he was protective, and the kids knew they were special, loved, all ya can ask for as a kid. That, and uh, that and your own motorcycle chauffeur, I guess.

Ella Presley (daughter): We knew things had really changed when it went from family drives and Mama and Tamale (the nickname the Presley children gave to Ann Margaret) taking us out, to daddy piling us all in the caddy and taking us to get leathers made. We had gear before, mama used to pack us in so well that we’d probably have survived a nuclear attack besides a wreck. (laughs) But yes, we got to stylize our own helmets. I got a plain black one and brought it back and painted it, because that’s what mama did with hers. Mine had like this flower crown of pink flowers on black, very hippy, according to Daddy. I was six, ok! And there wasn’t some gritty aspect to motorcycles in my mind, I’d grown up seeing mama on them in her skirts and lipstick, jewels hanging onto her ears for dear life when she picked up speed. A painted flower crown on my helmet seemed very fitting to me, alright? Give me some slack here.

Daisy Mae (daughter): Ella really had no idea about being badass and all that biker stuff that I don’t ever remember even talking to Marlon about but, sorta like osmosis, I got the general vibe that we were hot stuff. At five years old. (Rolls her eyes) But Ella, Ella was all pink and black like mama. And daddy was cooing and thinking it was the cutest thing. Then, then daddy had mama’s leather pants monogrammed. And Ella wanted that too. He melted on the floor in horror when she asked.

Barbara Stanwyck (co-star): so when this thing got serious, really got off the ground, that whole family turned out looking sharper and more coordinated than the Von Trapps. A lot groovier, too. And then came the kicker, Elaine had these leather trousers that, being Elaine, they looked phenomenal on her stems, and a cheeky EP monogrammed on the back pockets. Picture it. An initial per ass cheek, dark pink on black. Looked like a spanked butt, and of course her husband loved it, I’ve never seen him take such public appreciation for vulgarity on her like that, but who can blame him? You’ve seen the pictures, she’s scorching hot in them, and they’d save her from roadburn so, all was good. Till Miss Ella pipes up and says she wants some, too.

Ann-Margret (co-star): Always like mama that one, and watching and imitating her to a Tee. And most of the time it pleased Elvis endlessly, but this time, you could see him connecting the dots of his little girl being just like her mama who was his wife who he was so rabidly hungry for. And he barked that no way in hell could she get those leathers. And of course the poor little dear had no idea where she’d gone wrong. So he immediately chased her as she ran upstairs crying, making amends by helping her repaint the sidecar to look exactly like her mama’s bike. But no monogrammed leathers.

Billy Smith (cousin): EP got me this gorgeous, macho beauty of a motor, all bronze and black and masculine. And I couldn’t wait to take it for a spin up in the hills, outrace ‘em all. Then the day of the first outing I went outside and saw I got saddled with a pink and black little sidecar hooked up to my bike and just like that, my Isle of Man dreams were over.

Marlon Brando (actor): I got pretty excited about this, uh, this whole thing, I was itchin’ to go. Didn’t get what all the fuss was about. I’d seen Elvis hanging around the house, I could see Elvis going a million miles a minute wanting to get on with it but then he’d have to have it picture perfect, so the outing would get canceled till the cars got swapped with the bikes till they matched, the colors, the aesthetic had to please him and it would take a big reshuffle and -all that. I got pretty sick of it, like -when’s this gonna begin? Day before we had been almost ready, then someone forgot the gramophone and that caused a lotta commotion and by the time it was solved the rain had come. So the next morning, we swear we are all going, hell or high water. It’s happening, we were all burned out on making it perfect, just wanted to joy ride, right?

Barbara Stanwyck (co-star): I’ll never forget that morning everyone was loading up and mounting their bikes and Elvis pauses by Marlon’s and starts showing this funny look on his face the longer he inspects the sidecar and Marlon’s bike.

Ann-Margret (co-star): I saw him reach out his hand and sorta thumb at the orange stripe on Marlon’s fender, it didn’t go with Daisy’s purple sidecar, you see.

Barbara Stanwyck (co-star): and then Marlon, in a voice he usually saved for the stage snarled- “leave Papa’s bike alone, Mopey” and Elvis just -obeyed. It was the funniest thing ever, he used Elaine’s nickname for him and Elvis didn’t bat an eye.

Ann Margaret (co-star): E clutched his hand to his chest like he’d been burned by the metal and went and got on his bike without another word. We actually made it out of the gates that day. The rest was history.

Finis~

Thank y’all so much for reading! This was an entirely new style of storytelling for me and I’d really love to hear your thoughts and get your suggestions if there are other topics you think might be interesting to be explored in this way. My very big thanks for sweet Christi for holding my hand through this and giving her feedback.

One of the things that interests me with this whole series is painting a dichotomy between the vulnerable and intimate voyeurism we get to experience with the one shots, verses how this couple is perceived by their associates and the world at large. It just makes it more real for me and I hope it did for you.

Also, as a side note, you may have noticed I tried to keep some of these individuals as rather unreliable narrators, their prejudices or existing recollections of Elvis’ real life being a bit… biased… one way or the other. I suppose I keep outing myself on who I’m not fond of in the MM. oops

Xoxoxo 🌹 Marina

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