#like he missed her SO much after she was gone there are an insane number of references and subtle hints in s3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thesummerpetrichor · 5 months ago

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𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓰𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓼: 𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸

Stepdad!Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: The year is 1979 and it's the summer after graduation. You want to make the most of the vacation, but going to shady dance bars is a lot harder now that your new stepfather works for the DEA.

Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, cops and raids, stepdad trope and all that comes with, minor DUBCON, big juicy age gap [reader is 18/19 when she meets Javi, Javi is in his mid 40s], reader wears a dress, petnames, mommy issues ™ , alcohol consumption, mean!brat tamer!dom!Javi then soft!Javi, brat!reader, rough sex, “virginity” loss & minor mention of blood, sex in the woods on the hood of Javi’s car, mentions of F masturbation, some reader x oc, Javi gives reader her first orgasm, major size kink [Javi is bigger than the reader, can rough house with her], degradation, dumbification, reader is insanely horny, satanic levels of dirty talk, finger sucking, choking, spanking [with a belt and hand] , a few slaps [as always], fingering, unprotected P in V [be better!!], creampie. Let me know if I missed anything 🫶

Word count: 7.2k

A/N: I am impossibly excited for this stepdad trilogy. This is part 1/3 so it’s only 1/3 the fun and debauchery. Few Easter eggs thrown in.. see if you can spot em 🤭.This is set up after the events of season 2 and before the events of season 3, in a year where Javi is taking a break before Cali, but feel free to imagine otherwise. Enjoy!!

Masterlist

Once I had a love and it was a gas

Soon turned out had a heart of glass

Seemed like the real thing, only to find

Mucho mistrust, love's gone behind

Once I had a love and it was divine

Soon found out I was losing my mind

It seemed like the real thing, but I was so blind

Mucho mistrust, love's gone behind

You stood at the entrance, one foot tapping restlessly on the wooden floorboards. In an effort to keep your head down you fiddled aimlessly with the clasp on your watch, knowing full well you weren’t going to be paying attention to anything but the time that flashed on its face. An older, blonde woman came stomping onto the patio, swinging the wooden door behind you so hard on her way the rattle it produced when it slammed shut knocked the flimsy “BAR” sign right off. You jumped, then took another step away from the establishment.

You could almost feel the bass of the engine thrumming in your chest as it got closer. The tires crunched against the gravel as it neared. You still couldn’t see it. You hoped it was her.

It wasn’t long before a red convertible was nearing, the number plate sending a shaky, relieved sigh hurtling past your lips. Agitated, drunk and anxiety ridden, you ran towards and then jumped into Lorrain’s car– hoping and praying the ride would give you a beat to sober up.

It wasn’t the first time you’d had to sneak back into your room well past midnight. It was so much of a habit you could sell a course on how to accomplish it with the utmost skill and precision. What was rare, however, was having to perform the task while shaken up so severely. The side of your small, once welcoming home seemed more alien than ever, your bedroom looking far higher off the ground than you remembered.

Nevertheless, a few missteps and about 10 minutes later you stumbled through your open window, quickly stripping to your underwear and shoving your dirty, alcohol laced clothes under your bed. You cursed your “parents” at the fact that you still needed to do this shit like a fucking highschooler.

The sound of feet padding towards your bedroom door startled you, and you jumped to pull on your sleep shorts before what you knew was your stepdad coming up the stairs.

You hoped and prayed he hadn't caught wind of the way you screamed when your foot missed the ledge below your window, or worse, that his partner hadn’t given him a call to inform him of the familiar face he saw at the shack that night.

No matter how many times you liked to imagine he would bend you over his knee and discipline you, how many times you imagined it was him with his hand under your skirt or head between your legs as some clumsy 20 year old rutted against your thigh, you knew full well if Javier actually ever caught your antics, the consequences were going to be a whole lot less ideal than that.

As you jumped under the covers you recalled the way Agent Steve Murphy had cocked his head at you back at the bar. The way your stepfather’s partner had squinted his eyes at you in confusion, doing a double take at your skimpy outfit, short dress and boots, the way the men at the bar had their hands all over you.

You prayed it wasn’t too late before you turned your head away, that it wasn’t too late before you swiftly moved out of that bar, before he could be sure it was you he was seeing.

Because if he was, there would be absolute hell to pay.

—

One summer, when you were maybe eight or nine, you developed an absurd obsession with riding your bike up the slope that led away from your small town. Eventually, the uphill roads veered away, twisting and turning into a thousand different rocky paths that converged at one point only a few hundred metres from the large sign that welcomed people into the town. The singular, welcoming road led straight into the woods. Back then, it seemed endless, providing a warm, hospitable buffer for the hills that loomed over the town with a somewhat protective intimidation. Like the woods were watching over your every move.

Everyday, for three months, you’d bust out your front door at 18:00 on the dot and make the journey uphill. Exhaustively pushing your bike past that sign and into what was nature's much welcome respite from your mothers neglectful cruelty. You collected rocks by the stream that ran through those woods, leaves and flowers to keep in your room. It was like they were magic. Like they wanted to get to know you, be your friend. The trees formed a canopy over you, like they wanted to shield you from the winds and the setting sun, and most importantly from the town below.

One day you remember hearing some rustling coming from up the stream. You didn't think much of it, must have been a deer or something of the sort. You continued foraging for little flowers and rocks, that was until you came across something that didn't really belong. A piece of white lace. It looked new, but dirty, there was cotton under half of it. It seemed like it was part of a dress. Someone must have lost it up there. You didn't investigate. Things were calm and quiet again as usual, but it wasn't long before the rustling from upstream got louder, just slightly, and you heard the clatter of a metal rod to the ground, followed by a heavier, louder thud.

You turned on your heel and away from the stream, it took you four minutes to find the welcome sign to your town again. By 19:00 you were home.

You never went back to the woods again. That August your mother informed you you were going to school in the city.

—

To say you were unhappy to come home from boarding school to the news your mother was marrying a cop would be an understatement, and while you tried not to be too judgy and give him a chance, to say you were surprised when he turned out to be a complete authoritarian would be an even bigger understatement.

You knew of Agent Peña, he was somewhat of a local celebrity. You’d seen him on your summers home since you were sixteen- picking up beers at the convenience store, smoking cigarettes outside the petrol station. You and your friends would often drool over him, wait for him to show up at a neighbourhood barbeque, or catch him taking a walk around the block.

Eventually, you grew up, and outgrew your little hallway crush on the, now, mostly tiresome Agent Peña. Because soon you weren't sixteen. And his holier than thou, saviour complex, and affinity for order only made you roll your eyes. In fact he was quite annoying. He made little effort to contribute to the community, still riding his high from his days in Colombia.

You wondered why those people revered him like he was taking bullets for your town.

You were absolutely flabbergasted when you found out your mother was marrying him. At first, a little bit jealous for the teenager who once fawned over him, but quickly more concerned for the fact that he was actually someone who you’d have to interact with, and not just a piece of eye candy you could appreciate out and about.

Hell, he was becoming family, and your stepfather no less. It was torturous. You did not need another person to worry about in your home.

“So.. What’re you studying?” He crossed his left leg over the right, and asked you. His hand reached out to receive the glass of whiskey your mother poured him. He hadn’t been in your house for ten minutes and you already couldn’t stand his guts. Besides the fact that he was a cop, he had this air about him… what exactly, you weren’t quite sure. A superficial, macho exterior that felt like a bigger slap in the face than the fact that he was sitting on the nice, upholstered, expensive, armchair your father had paid for.

Unsurprisingly, Agent Peña often indulged you in riveting conversation about the dangers of indulging in alcohol and drugs at a young age as he puffed on his cigarette, and lectured you, in what you knew as truly your mothers fashion, about how young people these days didn't know a thing, and that they must always respect and follow the lead of their elders.

Much like mother dear, he paid little attention to you other than to reprimand you for whatever it was you weren’t doing correctly; for when you didn’t do the dishes on time, or were staying out too late, as if it was any of his business to even begin with. He seemed to really enjoy the protective dad role. It fit in well with the rest of his pathetic persona.

No wonder they got along.

You remember almost gagging when he boasted about the college you were set to attend, one arm slung across your shoulder, at the party your aunt threw for your graduation. Like he had absolutely anything to do with it. You excused yourself partly to avoid the embarrassment and partly to roll your eyes. A small part of you enjoyed his proud boasting, but you were not ready to unpack that yet.

In the time the couple weren’t circle jerking about their views, you were lucky enough to be the recipient of snide comments that were so obviously meant for your late father. To his credit Javier Peña didn’t involve himself in the conversation. You couldn’t say the same for a lot of your mother’s previous lovers.

Since you were ten years old you had been making your own decisions, doing what you wanted and living on your terms. To return to your home for the summer after graduation, now 18, and have to abide by someone else’s meaningless regulations, was a rather harsh slap in the face. Not to mention this someone had been in your life all of two months, and really enjoyed acting like he knew anything about you, or your family.

Sometimes, when you’d climb down the stairs of that quaint suburban home, the home that once belonged to your family, in the middle of the night to grab a glass of water or a snack, you’d see him sitting out on the porch, hunched over a whole bunch of shit you couldn’t bother caring about, with his ashtray dangerously close to all that flammable paper.

His shirt stretched deliciously over his back, his hand reaching out to ash his cigarette every once in a while. You were glad he was infuriating, had he not been such a prick it might have revived the little bit of a crush you had on him.

Sometimes you felt a little bit bad for rolling your eyes at him, or shutting down his attempts to initiate group plans. If you were being honest you were surprised when he didn’t blow up at you for talking back or being rude– that was when your mother wasn’t around. When she was, he didn’t have to. She would jump at any chance to start a fight. You were even more surprised when Javier tried to diffuse the situation.

You figured soon enough that perhaps the Javier Peña you met a few months prior was putting quite the show on for his overbearing, obnoxious lover. Of course, you were sure he hardly saw her that way. He was perhaps a lot smarter than you gave him credit for.

Javier often chided your mother when you spoke back to her, rather unexpectedly calling out her bad parenting and the behaviour she “modelled” for you when you were a child. You overheard them argue after a big blowout, from your room. It upset you that he was even getting involved. He tried to talk to you about it later, but that was the last thing you wanted to do.

Obviously, you knew your hatred of them both had something to do with your psychologically deprived childhood, but it baffled you how neither of them, especially wannabe father of the year Javier Peña, didn’t realised your isolated anger would perhaps be diminished if they stopped trying to meddle in your life, the one neither of them seemed to care about unless something about it upset them.

If he really cared about your wellbeing he’d take his wife and get the fuck out of your life. You were an adult, one that wasn’t going to listen to anyone, especially not the mother who packed you away all those years ago, and her hypocritical, infuriating husband.

Thats why, despite having almost gotten caught and having your ass handed to you less than forty eight hours prior, you were back at the shack, drink in hand, stupidly forgetting exactly what had you scrambling to get out there in the first place.

Who could have even blamed you? Your mother had been especially annoying that particular morning, and Javier and his buddies had colonised the house for a barbeque in the afternoon. In what even you recognised as somewhat juvenile rebelion, you decided the universe owed you some fun after having to endure their patronising, senseless chit chat all day.

It wasn’t even that late, but you were already feeling it, the effects of the countless drinks you had downed over the course of the few hours you had been dancing at the bar. Nothing unusual in that, men often offered to buy you drinks, handsome ones at that, and you didn’t have the money to live extravagantly. Besides, if you weren’t going to use your charm what was it even there for?

Was it Timmy? Tommy? You couldn't even recall his name by the time he was tossing you onto the counter in the bar’s bathroom. To be honest you couldn’t really figure out much of your surroundings, letting yourself get lost in the delicate, dizzy, tipsy haze as his hands slipped under your skirt to squeeze at your thighs. Your regular drunk hookup, or rather someone you disappointingly rolled around with till he finished and left you to roll your hips against your pillow wishing your hands were your Stepfather’s.

His lips brushed your neck, sloppily planting kisses up and down your skin, nipping at your collar bones as he pushed himself between your legs. You closed your eyes and imagined he was Javier. The thought made you moan and you reached for his collar to pull him closer. He didn't smell like Javi, wasn't as big, his chest wasn’t as firm, his arms didn't envelop you like Javi’s did.

You felt him swell against you, and you pushed against him, mind once again drifting to Javier standing at the grill in your backyard. His white linen shirt unbuttoned far too low, rolled up sleeves drawing your eyes to his forearms. He’d had a hand on his hip, a sliver of skin right above the band of his shorts just barely visible.

He smiled at you, and you had worried he’d caught you staring. You revelled in the image. You recalled how he leaned against the edge of the pool with the afternoon sun beating down on his golden skin. You imagined his hands moving under your bra to squeeze your breast.

You were rather embarrassingly enjoying the little montage of your stepdad that was playing in your head. You had almost forgotten it was tommy, or timmy rolling his hips against yours. If a loud, wall rattling thud hadn’t interrupted you, you would've enjoyed your little delusion even longer.

To say you were startled was an understatement, you practically leaped right off the counter. Unable to really gather your bearings in time, you barely registered timmy, or tommy, scrambling to fix his shirt, you yourself rushing to cover up and fix the top of your dress.

From the corner of your eye you caught a hand grab him by the shoulder and shove him towards the door, dragging him out of the bathroom and towards a building commotion outside. You heard people yelling, but couldn’t really make out what was going on.

When you looked up and found Javier looking dead at you, instead of your little fling, you damn near collapsed. He looked like he was on the verge of a heart attack. In a second he was shutting the door behind him, and flicking the lock. You would’ve ran, but its not like you could go anywhere, besides, hed gotten a good look at your face gawking at him, like a fucking moron.

It was over.

“You’re fucking kidding me.” you hopped off the counter and tumbled into his chest. He took you by the arm and dragged you right to the back of the bathroom, you struggled to remain on your feet but he didn’t really care. Much of your dizziness was thanks to your new found anxiety and had little to do with the vodka you’d been downing all night. This was definitely not an ideal situation. His grip on your arm tightened, and made you wince. You liked the sting, not so much the rest of the whole ordeal. “This where you’ve been fuckin’ going?” he seethed, coming close enough that your noses almost touched, he shook you lightly by the arm as he spoke.

You tried to wiggle out of his grip, but he pulled you closer. “None of your fucking business.” Sure, you weren’t on your best behaviour, but did he really think he could boss you around?

“Sure as hell’s my fucking business.” he took a look behind him, then turned back to you and leaned closer. “‘DEA agent’s step daughter dancing at illegal drug club’ sure gonna make a sweet headline.” His fingers dug into your flesh. Only then did it hit you why exactly he was in your dingy shack to begin with. You heard Timmy arguing with someone outside. You felt your palms become impossibly clammier.

“Just fucking turn me in then, asshole.” you got closer, and you were sure he could smell the vodka off your breath. You wished that sounded as courageous and bold out loud as it did in your head. His eyes jumped to your lips, and he rolled them, huffing in frustration. You felt your own eyes burn, and your vision became blurry. You didn't want to cry in front of that bastard. You looked away.

“To whom? Myself” his thumb smoothed over your skin, and his grip lightened. “Not gonna arrest you, fuckin’ idiot.” he rolled his eyes, then dropped your arm to put his hands on his hips. He looked down and sighed, massaging his temple and then glancing behind him again.

“Riskin it all for that fuckin’ looser?” He let out a half hearted laugh, looking somehow both disappointed and smug. You wanted to punch him in the face. You would have, if he didnt happen to be the only thing between you and one dozen other narcs outside.

He glanced at the ground for a second, then back at you and fixed the strap of your top that had slipped down your shoulder. “Get in the car.” he pointed behind you, and you looked in the direction to see a small, open window.

“Know you're good at climbing outta windows.” you felt your cheeks heat so much they burned. Your heart hadn’t really recovered from his big, surprise entry yet. You couldn't stand to look at his frustrated, let down face.

Javi cocked his head and raised his brows, whispering a strained “go”. You had no choice, you turned away from him and towards the window.

—

“Where are we going?”

He didn't look away from the road ahead. Hand gripping the steering wheel with a renewed annoyance. “Better stop asking questions before s’ too late brat.” You opened your mouth to speak, but quickly shut it right back up again. You decided it was probably a lot smarter to just shut up and not bother him any longer– regardless of the thousand questions and worries you had swimming in your head.

If you were lucky, he was going to drive the both of you right off a cliff, because if your mother caught any wind of what you had been doing, your plans for going to college, and living out of your house would fly right out the window. Not to mention the torture that would insue when she demanded to know your whereabouts all day everyday for the rest of the foreseeable future.

“Don't want ya hangin’ round the countryside, in these barns, nothing good happens in there.” he looked over you momentarily,

“Oh what? Are the cows joining in on the drug trade?”

“Newspaper boys, going missin’. Found him in the lake, about two miles from here.” you pressed your lips together.

The car ride thus passed in a painful, tense silence. Javier was clearly unhappy with the whole situation, but had decided not to immediately blow up in your face? Everything about that unsettled you. He was so shocked he seemed to be in denial. You'd much prefer if he just yelled at you and got it over with.

What else was there to do? Surely he wasn’t going to turn you over to the cops, he had his chance to do that already. However Javier never missed a chance to reprimand you, maybe he wanted to get a few words in before ruining your future.

You wouldn’t put it past him anyway.

The empty streets gave way to a narrow, winding road that cut through the woods. The familiar landscape of your small town faded away, replaced by shadowy silhouettes of trees that loomed closer and closer to the edge of the road. The headlights pierced the darkness, illuminating the dense foliage– closing in around you. The road twisted and turned, each bend bringing you deeper into the night, and further away from any civilisation.

Beginning to zone out, you kept your eyes ahead, now unable to recognise left from right, and importantly, exactly how far out from town you had come. It wasn’t long before the “farwell, drive safe” sign that stood at the edge of the woods was swiftly moving past your right shoulder. A pit was quick to form in your stomach, the lowered window by Javi’s side let the cool breeze in. It wrapped around you and made you shiver. The smell of the woods soon overcame you.

Eventually,the car came to a stop in a small clearing. You watched Javi, but he paid no attention to you. The silence was almost deafening, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves and the occasional creak of branches swaying in the wind. In the distance, an owl hooted, its call echoed through the trees. You felt like a child about to be reprimanded after getting in trouble at school. You could hear the ticking of the cooling engine, each sound amplified in the stillness of the night. The dark woods pressed in on you.

After what felt like an eternity, he opened his door, stepping out and gesturing for you to do the same with his head. Still absolutely clueless about what exactly he was doing, you decided just to follow along. He wasn’t going to actually kill you or anything. Probably just wanted to scare you. He had always thought he was a lot more scary than he actually was. At least that's what your brain was telling you. Your heart had other plans.

You watched from inside as Javi began to cross in front of you, for a good three seconds he stood directly ahead of you, facing you in the beams of the headlights. The sight made you shiver. He took a step out of the light. Taking a long deep breath to psych yourself up, after a short moment you opened your door. Javi placed his arm on the top of said door, leaning against it to watch you get out.

You almost tripped, but Javi caught you by the arm and manhandled you to the front of his truck. Your eyes took a moment to adjust to the light, and when he turned you to face the hood it blinded you.

The scrape of your shoes against the damp soil, the crunch of the leaves– it was pretty much all you could really register. The moon shone bright, shining through the trees, but your eyes had not yet adjusted to the darkness. “These woods are fucking haunted.” A bug landed on the side of your face and you jumped, shaking your head and swatting it away. Javier laughed behind you and you rolled your eyes. “Ghosts the least of your worries right now, bunny .”

“Fuckin gross.” He shook you by the arm, his voice now a tad bit more annoyed than it was a little earlier. “Oh really?” He pushed you against the hood of his car, your back now facing it. You couldn’t see his eyes, any part of his face at all, you could barely see anything. You wondered how he moved so confidently in the dark. He must have practice.

“I ain’t sneakin’ out to be a slut every night.” His hands moved to grab your waist and your heart jumped. You swallowed, feeling more defiant yet sceptical by the second. “Sorry you’re not getting any, but it's not my fault, dirty old man.” Before you could even gauge his reaction your head was snapping to the side, a sharp burn spreading across your cheek as Javier’s hand made contact with your skin.

“I'm not getting any?” he laughed, then took your face between his fingers and squeezed your cheeks together. You winced, and your vision got blurry. You felt your panties dampen embarrassingly. “I ain't the one lettin’ stupid boys rub up on me, bunny.” He shook your face gently, voice so seething and cruel you whimpered, somehow more desperate for him than you were before.

“Desperate little slut.” He grabbed you by the shoulders and flipped you around, and promptly told you to “shut that whore mouth” when you screamed that he could fuck right off. His fingers left tender spots all over your arms and waist, and you winced when he manhandled you into bending over the hood of his car.

He placed a hand on your back to press you down, the other held your waist in a death grip and you felt him press up against your ass. Your dress had ridden up, and surely left little to the imagination. The denim of his jeans rubbed against your upper thighs, and the tips of your shoes barely scraped the ground with how far up the hood of the car he had thrown you. You whimpered and he shushed you with a hand squeezing around your throat from behind.

You knew you had to be unjustifiably wet by this point. You felt yourself throb when Javi put his hands under your dress and grabbed the waistband of your panties. He pressed his hips into yours and you felt his bulge through the fabric.

The jingle of his belt sent a shiver down your spine, every hair on the back of your neck standing up at attention. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, still undecided about how exactly you felt about this entirely new development.

Your heart jumped when he ran the leather across your skin, slowly, perhaps to catch you off guard when he finally struck you with it. You lurched forward, the pain so sharp a tear was quick to roll down your cheek. He struck you again, holding you down with his other hand. The sound of each slash, and your whines that followed echoed in the distance.

“Think you’re fuckin cute, don’t you.” It was horribly embarrassing to be bent over the hood of his car, both palms on holding you up as best they could whilst he landed spank after spank on your bare ass. “Like bein a wild child?” Your scream echoed in the woods when his belt made sharp contact with your flesh. Your knees buckled but Javier's hand on your waist held you up before it was retreating to land another slap on your ass. Tears were dampening the neckline of your dress already, rolling down your neck and rendering you a bigger mess with every sharp spank of his belt.

“Yeah? You get off on all those men touchin’ ya? Like being passed around like a cheap whore?” He gripped your hips so tight you didn’t even bother trying to wiggle out of his hold. “Should take ya to the office sometime, hand ya off to Steve, let him have some fun with you.”

You shook your head at that, there was only one man in the DEA offices you wanted, and unfortunately it wasn’t anybody that could actually be with. You clenched your thighs.

“Knew you were a fuckin’ nasty little girl.” He wedged his hand between them, pushing them apart and slightly spreading your thighs. His fingers rubbed over your clothed cunt, your panties now damp from all that had ensued. You shivered, then pushed back against his digits.

His fingers found your clit and you moaned. “Did ya cum?” he asked, referring to your little escapade at the bar. Suddenly, you were a whole lot less bold than you were a few moments ago, it wasn’t ideal to admit what you were going to, and it seemed almost impossible without sounding rather pathetic.

He stopped moving his fingers and pinched the inside of your thigh. “Answer me.” You whispered a “no” bracing yourself for whatever embarrassing comment Javier was going to throw back at you in response. “Huh.. No one fucked this tight little snatch before? Savin’ yourself for me?” he ruminated on the thought, sounding far more pleased than you would have desired. He wasn’t exactly right, but he definitely wasn’t wrong either.

When you remained quiet he leant beside your ear, lips ghosting the skin on your neck. “Hmm, that right? “Wish it was me instead of that stupid boy?” You groaned at his smug voice, then when his fingers slid under your panties and between your dripping folds. “Wished his finger’s were mine tonight, didnt you?” He cursed under his breath at how wet you were. “How many times d’you cum dreamin’ bout your stepdaddy fuckin your tight lil pussy…”

“Haven’t” You pressed your face against the metal of his car, cheeks on fire at your admission. He remained silent behind you for a beat, then gently lifted you to press your back to his chest with a hand around your throat. He pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss against your neck, and the hand that was between your legs slid under your dress to plam your tit through your bra. “Ever?”

You gasped as he pulled it down, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You shook your head and pressed back against his hard cock. The buckle of his belt dug into your skin and you could almost feel the sting against your ass once again. He pulled you impossibly closer to him, hand returning between your legs.

He rubbed your clit in slow circles and then pushed two fingers into your entrance. “Full of surprises, aren't ya?” you gasped at the stretch, his fingers were surely far bigger than your own, or any others that had been anywhere near your pussy. “don't blame ya’ bunny , nothing like the real thing, huh?”

You bit your lip harder to keep from moaning, already far closer to finishing than you had ever been before, especially when he stroked your walls, mercifully scissoring you open in an uncharacteristic show of thoughtfulness.

“So fuckin’ wet, bunny .” he curled his digits, reaching that sweet spot inside you as he thumbed your clit. You pushed back against him, feeling yourself continue to gush around his hand. “Gonna slide right in at this rate.”

He yanked your panties down with so much force you heard a few stitches rip in the silence. Javier groaned, and you leaned back against him when his hand moved away from your pussy to slide his hard cock between your thighs, his hips flush against yours. He squeezed your tit in his palm as he pulled back a little, sliding against your swollen cunt again.

You felt your arousal smear against your thighs. He muttered a strained “Can’t wait much longer, bunny” . You, yourself thought you might have gone crazy if he waited longer. He pulled his hips back again, notching the head at your entrance and pushing in in a single, slow thrust.

You winced and then moaned, body unable to adjust to the sheer size of him so quickly, yet still hungry for more. You hadn’t felt quite so full ever before, you could feel his cock deep inside you. Your hand covered his on your chest and you mewled and whimpered when he moved his hips, replicating the sharp thrust again, and then again.

It wasn’t long before he was pushing you back down against the hood of his car to get a better grip on your hips. He twisted your wrist as you reached out for him, holding both in one large palm as he found a steady rhythm. The almost unbearable stretch slowly melted away into a delicious, burning need, and in only a few moments you were pressing back against him, pleading for him to pick up his pace.

“You rub your pretty little cunt thinking ‘bout my cock splitting you open?” You moaned a “yes” every part of your body now hot with need as he kept fucking into your warm, wet, heat.

“How?” When you didn't answer he landed a spank to your ass, this time with his hand, and right over the spot his belt had left its sting on not so long ago. You yelped and surged forward. His hand on your hip pulled you back. You pulled yourself up, craving the heat of his chest against your back.

“On my- oooh” your palm landed over his, fingers wrapping around one of his larger ones as you cut yourself off with a moan “On my pillow.” The memory made you throb harder, and the hand that was holding Javiers guided it away from your hip and closer to the cut of your thigh, craving the feel of his fingers on your clit.

He squeezed the flesh of your thigh and chuckled, hot breath fanning against your now sweaty skin. “Thought as much. My little slut. Knew I heard ya..” he took your earlobe between his teeth for a moment, nipped and then licked a stripe up your neck “tryna make yourself cum. Couldn't figure it out yourself huh?”

You shook your head. “horny little girl, need me to do everything for ya.” You had indeed, countless times rather ashamedly. The thought that he’d possibly heard you long enough for it to be a problem, had likely fucked your mother at the thought, wishing it was you under him in her stead was a thought that would live in your head for all eternity.

He kissed your cheek, then pushed you back down. “S’why ya keep spreading your legs for the whole world huh?” He put a palm on the middle of your back, holding you down as he continued to thrust inside you. “Chasin’ cock all day long.”

“Can’t help this whore cunt huh? So desperate to cum.” holding yourself up on your forarms you raised your head, turning back to get a look at him fucking into your desperate pussy.

“Knew it the moment I fuckin’ saw you. Dumb slut got nothing to her name besides this sweet pussy. No one taught ya any manners, how to be a good little girl.” His thumb brushed over the cut of your jaw, fingers squeezing your cheeks. His index and middle fingers swiped your lips, and they instinctively parted to let him push them in. You sucked and drooled around his digits, doing little to contain your moans as he continued to fuck you from behind. The taste of your arousal sat heady on your tongue. “Always knew ya wanted it, stupid little slut.”

“Runnin that whore mouth all day like you're payin’ for the house.” his hips snapped towards yours, his cock buried deep inside you. “But it aint your house, bunny .” With the way your tits were pressing against the smooth metallic finish of his stupid pickup truck you were sure they were going to leave a mark.

You released his fingers with a pop, and he grabbed you by the hips and flipped you around, hurriedly tossing you onto the hood of his car till your feet were also planted firmly above the bumper. Before you could even register the movement he was slipping back inside you, you felt yourself pulse around his cock. You hoped and prayed no one was remotely near, your wailes and whines loud enough to travel far into the distance.

“Get that in your fuckin’ head” He tapped his index gently against your temple and you nodded, frantically pleading yes after yes. You felt him throb inside you, each drag of his cock building the tension in your belly. You felt your pussy squeeze around him, and you wiggled your hips closer to chase the feeling.

Your head turned side to side, your whole body buzzing at the heat between your legs. You don't think you’d ever felt anything like it. Sure, it felt good to touch yourself, but this, the feeling of his cock inside you, against your wet walls, it was entirely different.

The tension only built in your hips, your skin erupting in goosebumps as you hurtled closer and closer to the edge. Your palms squeezed your breasts, seeking purchase on any part of your body.

You lay your back down completely, watching the light hit him right in the face, falling against his features to create sharp lines of contrast. You’d take a good long look at him on top of you to save for later, but he was quickly pressing his lips to yours and your eyes fluttered shut.

The weight of his body on top of yours was enough to make you cum on your own, but the feeling of his lips was what really did it. For how rough and quick he was splitting you open, his mouth moved gently against yours, his warm tongue parting your lips and gliding into your mouth. You moaned against him and he bit your lip, sensing how close you were.

“Wanna see that face when you cum for me.” his palm tilted your face upwards, and while the rest of his fingers continued to squeeze around your neck his thumb slipped between your parted lips. Instinctively, you closed your mouth around him, drooling and moaning around his thumb when he hit the sweet spot inside you over and over. Your pussy clenched around his cock and you tried to whimper his name. You felt another word bubble in your throat but you closed your lips around his digit to push it away. Your eyes fluttered shut at the intensity.

“Cum for me, lil bunny” his words made you tumble over the edge, your cunt squeezing and gushing around his cock, your back arching off the hood of his car. His fingers squeezed around your neck, holding your face in place so he could get a good look at your eyes rolling back into your head.

It was like a blackout, your ears rang so loud and your lips loosened around his thumb, going slack as you rode out your high. You felt him throb inside you at the sight. You felt the ache deep inside you, all the pleasure bursting in a single climactic second. Your lips fell slack around his fingers, whole body twitching at the sensation.

Your climax set him off, and it wasn't long before he was burying himself inside your hot heat. His cock pulsed against your wet walls, painting your insides with his spend. He groaned and squeezed around your neck just a little harder. You sucked his thumb gently and heard him curse under his breath. You tried to keep your fluttering eyes on his face, watching intently as the aftershocks subsided and Javier's brows knit closer with his final few thrusts.

After a few moments he stilled inside you, taking a moment to catch his breath. He pulled his thumb from your warm mouth to brush your bottom lip, then let his own lips take their place. You felt him pull out and you winced at the burn. He put both your legs up on his shoulders and leaned between your legs.

You watched as his head disappeared between your legs to place a kiss to your inner thigh, and pull your panties back up your hips. You reached for him and he pulled you up to his chest. “Gotta clean up a lil bit, bunny..” he fixed your dress and lifted you off the hood and into his arms. “Ain’t nothing to worry about.” You already knew your painties were ruined for good with a red stain by that point.

You rested your forearms on his shoulders, quite liking being held in his arms. “Knew you were always to much of a fucking perv to be a good cop.” He smacked your ass again for good measure and placed you on the ground. “You aint’ too much of a slut to fuck your stepdaddy aint it?”

He stepped aside and you watched him do up his belt again, walking towards the driver's side of the car. You looked behind you and towards the expanse of the woods. The trees rustled, and you heard, presumably, the same owl hoot from the distance. A small crackle in the foliage had you swiftly walking to the passenger side and yanking open the door. You hopped inside and slammed it behind you.

Javier was reaching in the glove box to stash away his gun. “Please” You swallowed, looking towards him. “Please just don’t tell her. She's going to have a freak out.”

Javi glanced at you momentarily, then murmured a dismissive “yeah yeah” as he started up the engine. That wasn't good enough for you. “Please, she’ll give me hell, I can’t deal with it.” You shook your head, then shifted in your seat. He muttered another “yeah”, checking his pockets for the keys to your front door. God forbid they slipped out while he was fucking your brains out.

You turned towards him in your seat, both hands on the centre console. “Please.” Javier grabbed the keys, hooked them to his belt loop and dropped his head in a sigh. He turned towards you, taking a moment to reach over and buckle you into your seat.

“‘Ain’t gonna tell, so stop askin’ before I change my mind.” He knew he didn’t need to ask you to keep your mouth shut– perhaps the most humiliating part of this all.

“Okay.. yeah..” The headlights flashed as you began your journey back home, the exhaustion of the day catching up with you. You sank back, twisting in Javi’s direction, now curled up in the seat. His eyes remained on the road ahead. “Don’t do this shit again.”

“Just wanted some adventure.” your voice grew thick, and you yawned. “Next time ya want adventure watch a fuckin’ hitchcock film or something.” He reached out a hand to cup your cheek, engulfed it and patted it gently.

”Ain't always gonna be there to save your ass, bunny.”

—

PART II

In between

What I find is pleasing and I'm feeling fine

Love is so confusing there's no peace of mind

If I fear I'm losing you. it's just no good

You teasing like you do

Eeek! Hope you enjoyed!! I’m very excited for this series, and I hope you are too! Please let me know what you think! Thank you to everyone who interacts with my work! Your comments and reblogs keep me writing 💗🐝

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jennaaswife · 3 months ago

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🚨 Everything we know about Wednesday season 2 (possible spoilers and trigger warnings for violence — don't read this if you don't wanna know anything about season 2. Also, remember that none of this is confirmed yet, everything is from a leaker supposedly working on the set)

1- Xavier left school so his character is completely forgotten

2- Enid is craving affection and attention a lot

3- Enid's scars healed (I'm so sad about that... bye bye our hopes of Wednesday comforting her about it)

4- Enid's hair is a bit shorter, closer to Emma's real haircut. It's still blond. They also talked about giving her a black streak, but they didn't do it. They will possibly add it next season

5- Ajax broke up with Enid because she kept missing their dates and wasn't really involved in their relationship

6- Ajax disappears through the season but is found at the end

7- Enid has a new boyfriend, Maxim (played by Owen Painter)

8- Maxim is predicted to be loved by the fans

9- Maxim is abusive towards Enid (he grabs her a lot and leaves bruises)

10- Wednesday hates Maxim from the start

11- Wednesday is really protective of Enid during this season

12- Enid breaks up with Maxim in episode 4 (I suppose, as it says mid-season) and it doesn't go well (he's really mad and they almost physically fight. Enid uses her claws)

13- After the break up, Maxim becomes very obsessive

14- Wednesday initiates a hug after Enid comes back to the dorm after the break up

15- Enid and Wednesday will investigate together in every episodes except the first one

16- Maxim takes over the Nightshades and kick Bianca out. His father is said to have old views (I guess similar to Crackstone)

17- Bianca will have a lot of scenes. So does Thing

18- Tyler is back and will work with Wednesday. He's not the villain of this season

19- Tyler has a lot of scenes with Bianca's mom

20- Wednesday, Enid, Morticia, Maxim and Barry (Maxim's father and Nevermore's new principal) have the most screentime

21- Enid meets the Addams and Morticia thinks her relationship with Wednesday is stupendous

22- Enid's relationship with her mom changes a lot (good or bad, we don't know)

23- There will be a camping episode taking place at Camp Jericho, where Enid and Wednesday will share a tent

24- There will be a musical number

25- Christopher Lloyd (original movie Uncle Fester) will come back as, apparently, a music teacher

26- Enid will have a major fight against around 5 creatures

27- One of Enid's fight is to protect Wednesday (who is immobilised during the scene)

28- Wenclair share another hug at the end of the season

29- Enid and Wednesday are very close friends at the end of the season. Wenclair is not comfirmed yet for season 3 but they said it's still possible

30- Jenna is producer this season, so everything that happens between Wednesday and Enid has gone through her. She and Emma are most likely the ones to decide if Wenclair will happen or no. Considering they both said in an interview that they would be good together, that the whole cast ships them and that so much fans does too, we are on the right track!

All of this is not officially confirmed. A leaker working on the set posted all this on Reddit in June (from what I understood). Recently, bts pics of Camp Jericho has been shared, confirming what the leaker said about it. So all of this is most likely true, but again, nothing comfirmed.

I really hope it is true, because holy shit, the plot is INSANE. I literally told my best friend I needed a camping scene in season 2 and more drama... well, there we are 🤌🏻 All this informations I have shared are from the leaker (the post has been deleted on Reddit but you can find some screenshots on @zstronz78's Twitter account)

What are you theories and thoughts about it?

#jenna ortega #emma myers #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wenclair #wednesday #sweet little raven news

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lnfours · 1 year ago

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nonsense | t.h

summary -> inspired by ‘nonsense’ by sabrina carpenter. dedicated to @darling-im-wonderstruck and @kate-bishopss <3

au -> tom holland x singer!reader

wc -> 1.6k

warnings -> unedited, fluff, tom being bf material, a little bit of language and sexual innuendos

masterlist | listen

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you sighed softly as you sat in the interview chair, tapping your fingers against your leg as your hairstylist and makeup artist applied some last minute touches before the camera turned on.

your new single had been on top charts for the past couple months, your album was coming out in a few short weeks, a tour was on the agenda for later this year. everything felt like it was finally slotting into place.

your fans had shown an insane amount of support from the number of streams and pre-saves for your new music, everything career wise made you feel on top of the world.

personal life wise, not so much.

you had met tom awhile back, the two of you had instantly connected while he was filming the latest spider-man movie. you two had gone out on a couple dates, hooked up a few times, the usual.

he checked all the boxes. he was caring and sweet, he made you feel like a queen, and he made sure you knew just how special you were to him.

however, whenever he was around, you felt knots in your stomach. the nervousness would set in whenever he was near. whenever you talk, you’d feel like you were speaking nonsense. all the nervousness is what kept you from jumping into something with him, but he was adamant about waiting for you. he didn’t want anyone else but you.

he didn’t care if it made him sound desperate, didn’t care about the girls in his dms or the ones who would text him and ask if he was seeing anyone. he only wanted you.

the camera started rolling and the interviewer introduced herself, smiling to the camera before introducing you. you smiled and thanked her for having you on before she asked her first question.

“so, ‘nonsense’ has been a huge hit,” she started, “you sing some very, risqué, lyrics, while also talking about how this certain someone makes you feel. did you pull inspiration from real life to write this?”

you nodded, “yeah, i did. i mean, you know that feeling you get when you talk to your crush? the kind of feeling that makes your insides melt? that's kind of how i feel with this person, every time.”

she smiled, “do they know they make you feel that way?”

you nodded, letting out a soft chuckle, “they do, yeah.”

she continued with the next question, “so, fans have speculated that the song is about tom holland, and you guys have been spotted out and about over the past couple months. are they right?”

you shook your head, palms sweating as you thought out your answer, “they’re all so creative with their speculations, but no, it’s not. tom and i are just friends.”

she tilted her head, “really? i mean, so many people have put compilations together of the two of you together and it seems like there’s some real chemistry brewing there.”

you smiled politely, “yeah, no. he’s really sweet, but we’re just friends.”

you felt the knots in your stomach again as you talked about him. just the thought of him made your stomach erupt in butterflies, how were you supposed to be together?

the interview was over after some more questions about the album and tour. you walked back to the dressing room, grabbing your things. as you scrolled through the missed texts on your phone, only one stood out to you the most.

tom: you were great ❤️

you smiled softly, going to reply, but your thought were interrupted when your manager walked in the door.

“the cars here,” she smiled, “ready?”

you tucked your phone back into your purse, “yeah,”

you walked outside of the building, saying hi and greeting some fans who waited outside. you took pictures, signed autographs, but the only thing on your mind was that text.

you pulled your phone back out as you got into the car, the driver heading back to your apartment building.

y/n: thank you ❤️

your fingers hovered over the keyboard, contemplating sending what you were thinking. you didn't understand why you were so nervous around him, why everything he did made your heart race or why he made your tongue go numb like all of a sudden you’re speaking gibberish.

none of it made sense, but then again, did it really have to? wasn’t the whole point of falling in love with someone about risks and growing together?

it was, right?

wanna get dinner tonight?

you locked your phone as soon as the ‘read’ popped up at the bottom of your message. you nervously bounced your leg, trying to fight back the urge to say ‘never mind’ as you watched the city life outside the dark tinted window.

your phone buzzed twice in your hand and you hesitated before looking down at the message on your lockscreen.

thought you’d never ask

meet at your place around 7?

you smiled down at your phone, your manager looking over at you as she spoke up, “nice job dodging those questions about tom earlier. i know how important your private life is, we want to keep it that way.”

you nodded, typing back your response before looking back at her. desperately trying to steady your heartbeat.

sounds good, spider-boy ❤️

“yeah,” you sighed, “i mean its not like i completely lied to them. we are just friends.”

“friends who hook up and get dinner on sunset?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. you sighed as she giggled, “i mean, i know there’s something brewing, anyone with eyes does, but why wait?”

you shrugged, “he just makes me nervous, almost like he’s too good to be true.”

“for as long as i’ve known you, if anyone deserves the ‘it’s too good to be true’, it’s you.”

you nodded, a soft smile on your face as the driver pulled up in front of your apartment building. you said your goodbyes, heading into the building and making your way into the elevator. you sighed, pressing the button for your floor.

maybe she was right. she almost always was.

the next few hours felt like the longest ever as you got ready. your hair was still styled almost perfectly from before, you touched up your makeup, and slipped on one of your favorite dresses. you felt good, and you looked good.

you were in the bathroom, applying some lip gloss in the mirror when you heard the knock on the door. you ruffled your hair one last time before making your way down the stairs and to the door, the clicking of your heels echoing throughout the penthouse.

you opened the door, smiling as tom stood in a dress shirt and dress pants. his sunglasses pushed back the curls that would normally fall in front of his forehead.

he looked so damn good.

he could say the same about you, though. his eyes traveled down your body as soon as you opened the door. he smiled as he handed you the bouquet of flowers from his grasp.

you thanked him and let him inside. he closed the door behind him and followed you into the kitchen where you were adding the new bouquet to the vase on the island.

“you look gorgeous, love,” he smiled as he took your hand. you laughed as he spun you around in a small circle, pulling you into his chest.

the smell of his cologne was embedded in your brain. after many nights of rolling over and smelling it on the pillows on the other side of your bed, or on one of the blankets on the couch he claimed was his, it smelled familiar. the feeling it gave you almost felt like home.

“so do you,” you grinned, “where are you taking me tonight, holland?”

“mm,” he hummed, “i booked a reservation for that italian place you like.”

you felt your heartbeat quicken as his nose brushed up against yours, “the key to my heart.”

he laughed softly, “seems you figured out what the key to mine is.”

you sent him a questioning look, “what’s that?”

“writing a song about me,” he smiled, “or, as you say, ‘about you and me’.”

you let out a chuckle, “you listened to it?”

“of course,” he playfully rolled his eyes, “it’s an honor to have a pop hit written about me, y��know.”

you hit his arm playfully, “stop.”

“stop what?”

“being so,” you trailed off for a second, “perfect.”

“you deserve nothing less, y/n.”

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and if he wasn’t holding you by the waist, you probably would’ve toppled over.

“you just make me so nervous,” you breathed out, “i’ve never felt this way about anyone else before.”

he smiled, “me either,” you returned the smile, “i know i’ve said it before, but i want it all with you. all the nervous jitters, the pillow talks, the dancing in the kitchen, all of it.”

in that moment, you put your nerves aside and let yourself give in.

“i want it all with you, too,” you mumbled, leaning closer to his lips. he smiled against yours as he kissed you sweetly, the both of you pulling away and erupting into soft chuckles.

your laugh grew louder when he picked you up, ignoring your protesting as he started up the stairs to your bedroom.

“what about our dinner reservation?” you laughed, fingers hooking into the waistband of his pants.

“you asked how quickly i can take my clothes off,” he said as he laid you down on your bed, “and there’s only one way to find out, love.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

💌 beings my tagged list has gotten so long that tumblr literally won't let me add it, the tagged list is temporarily closed until i can figure it out. in the meantime, be sure to follow and turn on notifications for @toms-gf to be notified whenever i post imagines :)

xoxo,

jordan <3

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c-e-d-dreamer · 11 months ago

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Punish You With Pleasure (Pleasure You With Pain)

A/N: happy belated birthday @moodymelanist! This is a super late gift, but hopefully the absolutely filthy smut will make up for it. And hoo boy is it filthy! 😉 I know this is a crackship and not everyone's cup of tea, so this is your friendly reminder to simply don't read if you don't like. Also, the consent in this fic is a bit dubious so please read with care! Special shout out to @witch-and-her-witcher for reading this for me and assuring me it was the right side of insane

Read on AO3

Five hundred gold marks.

She'd spent five hundred gold marks on her little escapade the previous night.

He'd seen the way Feyre's eyes would go distant mid-paint stroke sometimes. The way she'd start to wring her fingers together and worry at her bottom lip as her thoughts trailed to her eldest sister. He'd seen the dark circles that clung to the skin beneath Cassian's eyes even well after they'd returned home to peace. He knew his brother was almost constantly perched on that rooftop, praying to the Mother and the Cauldron for anything other than another rejection from a female who clearly never thought twice about him. Rhys had to order him away to Illyria just so his brother might finally get some sleep.

But Feyre's expression this morning when the bill from the previous night arrived had been the final straw. Those soft blue eyes he loved so much had misted over, heat creeping up her neck in shame, as she started forlornly down at her breakfast. A single tear had slipped down across her cheek and into her eggs.

Rhys had been done then. Done with his family hurting. Done with the cause being this cruel, stubborn, selfish female. This is his Court, his city, and he won't allow for this to go on any longer. He intends to put Nesta Archeron in her place.

He can't remember the last time he's been to this part of Velaris. Many of the cobblestones beneath his shoes are cracked, some even fully broken or missing. Paint chips and peels off many of the buildings, but it doesn't stop any of the taverns lining the streets. Doesn't stop the patrons entering their doors or stumbling out of them.

The unfortunate building Nesta Archeron has chosen as a home is as unassuming as it is rundown. Dull gray stone and broken shutters line the outside, and as Rhys steps through the doors, it's rickety stairs that greets him. He follows them up to the third floor, his feet carrying him down the winding hall.

There's a distinct scent that seems to permeate the whole space around him. Stale alcohol. Food gone bad. Unbathed residents. Rhys can't help but grimace, can't help but turn his nose up to that scent, to all the grime that seems to bleed from the walls. He'll certainly need a long soak after this, and almost instinctively, his fingers move to his sleeve, picking and brushing at the fabric.

There’s nothing particularly remarkable about the door at the end of the hall. Nothing of note either. Old nails in the wood may have held up rusted numbers or letters at some point, but not any longer. Raising his fist, Rhys knocks twice, hard and curt, against the wood. There’s rustling on the other side, the slide of locks, and then the door pulls open, Nesta Archeron standing before him.

She has on some male’s shirt, but judging by the scent behind her, or lack thereof, whoever was in the apartment is long gone now. She’s barely bothered to do up the few buttons at the bottom of the shirt. It leaves a deep v of skin exposed and on full display. The expanse of her collarbones, down through the valley of her breasts, all the way down to her navel. Dark circles cling to the pallor skin beneath her eyes, but they’re still a piercing, stormy blue, still narrowed in a glare in greeting.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Nesta sneers, her appearance doing nothing to damper the bite to her tone.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Rhys asks coolly instead of answering.

“No.”

Nesta tries to slam the door in his face, but Rhys is quicker. His hand shoots out, catching the wood and stopping its momentum with ease. It doesn't take much effort to force the door open again, to shoulder his way past Nesta and into her apartment. The lingering scents of males is especially potent inside, a mingled, stale mix of sweat and sex. Rhys doesn't bother swallowing down his blatant sniff nor his frown, reveling in the way Nesta's gaze hardens even more at the reaction.

“What are you doing here?” Nesta demands again, crossing her arms over her chest. The gesture only draws further emphasis to the swell of her breasts, threatening to send them spilling through the opening in the shirt she wears.

Rhys tears his gaze away from her, eying the bedroom and the rumbled sheets he can see through the open doorway instead. “Company left already? Perhaps consider washing your sheets. I’m sure the scent of revolving males is quite off putting and would send any sane male running.”

“Fuck you,” Nesta seethes, practically snarling as she spits the words at him.

“And what number male was that last night? Or have you already lost track?”

“That’s none of your business.”

Rhys chuckles darkly, stepping closer to her again and using the few inches he has on her to look down and offer a smile that’s all teeth. “It is when it’s in my city.”

For her credit, Nesta doesn’t allow the proximity or his height to cow her. She holds her ground, raising her chin defiantly. “I didn’t realize that was part of your job description, keeping tabs on all the fucking that happens. That must be exhausting.”

“If I were you, I’d keep that smart mouth of yours closed.”

“And if I were you, I’d get out of my apartment,” Nesta fires back, gesturing toward the door.

“Yours? Did you forget who pays the rent for this shit hole?” Rhys chuckles dryly, making his disgust clear as he pointedly looks around. When he finally meets Nesta’s gaze again, her hands are clenched into fists, that defiance burning as bright as the flames he knows skitter just beneath her skin. “Although, clearly you have no issue with whose money you’re spending considering what you spent last night.”

The barest hint of a smirk tugs up the corner of Nesta’s lips. “What can I say? All the bar patrons were all too happy to raise a toast to their High Lord when they heard drinks were on him.”

“Do you think this is a joke? You spent five hundred gold marks last night!”

“Only five hundred?”

The growl is escaping the back of Rhys’s throat before he can stop it. “Do you take joy in being a selfish bitch?”

“Does it get you off playing big, bad High Lord? I’m sure Feyre loves this little act.”

“Don’t speak about your sister, your High Lady, that way.”

Nesta rolls her eyes. “So much talk, and yet I’m not seeing any sort of action.”

Rhys surges forward, his hand coming up between them to grasp at her jaw, to hold her in place while he glares and seethes at her face. He can feel her pulse just beneath his fingers, the way it flutters and stutters, but it’s not fear burning in those blue eyes.

“You want to see action? Give me a reason. I dare you. You will speak of your sister with respect. You will speak to me with respect.”

“What are you? My father?”

Rhys realizes too late how close they’re standing. Realizes too late that her already kiss bitten lips are parted as she stares up at him beneath long lashes. Realizes too late that her full breasts are pressed firmly against his chest, peaked nipples noticeable even through the two layers of fabric between them. Realizes too late the way his cock twitches in interest at this turn of events, this turn in the conversation.

“Really? Does that get you off? Do you want me to call you Daddy?”

Despite her taunting words, the sweet scent of her arousal permeates the air, swirling around him and flooding his senses. The magic deep within his chest thrums to life, rising in interest to meet the well of power stolen from the Cauldron itself. He squeezes his hand a bit tighter, relishing in the way Nesta’s breath catches, the way her eyes flutter, casting piercing blue in shadow as her eyelashes kiss her cheeks.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” Rhys warns lowly, even as he shifts his hand enough that he can drag the pad of his thumb across her lips.

“I’m quite confident the only person’s ability to finish currently in question is yours.”

“There’s that smart mouth again. How about we put it to better use.”

Rhys slides his hand down, the tips of his fingers grazing across the skin of her neck. He can feel the shiver that skitters up her spine at the touch, the goosebumps that pebble beneath. His fingers continue down to her collarbone, following the delicate line all the way to her shoulder. It doesn’t take much pressure for him to push her down to the floor, her legs spreading wide to hold her weight comfortably.

In this position, Rhys has a perfect view to leer down the front of Nesta’s shirt. He can see the large swell of her breasts and pink peaked nipples perfectly, can watch the way they heave with each panting breath that tumbles past her parted lips. And just beyond, he can see the dusting of dark curls begging for his touch, for his cock.

As if sensing where his thoughts have gone, Nesta’s eyes dance to the growing tent in the front of his pants. Already his cock is hard and straining against the laces and fabric, his blood heating with every passing second. The sight of Nesta licking her lips forces him to swallow down a groan. The stubborn, eldest Archeron. The Kingslayer. The female who sneered at every High Lord when they all gathered.

“Now, that’s much better. On your knees before your High Lord,” Rhys comments, slowly but surely untying the laces of his pants. He tugs his cock free, fisting it and spreading the precum pooled at the tip down the length of it. Nesta tracks the movement, and Rhys smirks at the reaction. “Is this what you want?”

Nesta looks at him through her eyelashes, nodding her head. The scent of her arousal becomes stronger, headier, the female clearly as turned on as he is. He can already imagine how she must be dripping down her thighs, but the shirt still hides that from view. Because he can, Rhys uses his free hand and tugs hard at the offending thing, wanting to hear the buttons clattering against the wood, the feel of fabric tearing beneath his grip, rather than magicing it away.

The sight presented before him is certainly worth it, and he half wonders if he should fuck her tits instead.

“Open,” Rhys demands coldly, letting a low rumble of his power to bleed into his tone. Almost on cue, Nesta’s lips part wider, her tongue pressing forward in waiting. “Well, would you look at that. You can behave after all.”

Before Nesta can respond or get another remark out, Rhys presses his cock forward into the wet heat of her mouth. He’s not gentle about it, feeding her half his length in one crude thrust until he hits the back of her throat. She chokes around him, but then she’s moaning, the vibration paired with her throat working and swallowing around him finally pulling a groan free from his chest.

Her tongue laves at the underside of his cock, the tip flicking and catching on the ridge of the head as he pulls back only to push right back in. He digs a hand in her hair, threading the brassy strands around his fingers and tugging hard. It pulls another choked, spluttering moan from Nesta, and Rhys using his grip to begin fucking her mouth in earnest. With each hard snap of his hips, he tries to feed her even more of his cock, to bury himself deeper down her throat.

“You know, your mouth is much sweeter when it’s stuffed full of cock instead of mouthing off.”

Nesta blinks up at him with watery eyes as he continues to move. Tears track down her cheeks, mixing with the drool that spills past her lips and splashing across her chest. There’s a pretty, pink flush spread across the skin there, matching the color of her cheeks. Even with the wide stretch of her lips around him, she hollows those same cheeks.

“Fuck,” Rhys groans, pleasure buzzing through his veins and threatening to send him teetering over the edge quicker than he’d prefer.

He pulls out of her mouth with a wet pop, a line of drool still connecting them. He watches the way Nesta swallows, the way she licks her lips now swollen and red from sucking his cock. Her eyes are glassy as she peers up at him, but that fire still burns behind the blue of them.

“Close already?” Nesta asks, the taunt still clear despite the rasp of her voice. “That’s disappointing.”

With a growl, Rhys uses the grip he still has on her hair to yank her to her feet, the rest of her shirt falling away with the movement. He doesn’t bother with the bedroom, with the rumpled sheets and the ghosts of males embedded within the fabric. Instead, he spins Nesta around and pushes her against the ragged, fraying sofa that takes up space in her sorry excuse for a living room.

“So much hatred,” Rhys comments, using his feet to kick her legs further apart. He presses himself along her spine, curling an arm around her. He slides his hand down her chest, down her stomach, all the way down until he finds the lips of her cunt already slick and fluttering from the barest of touches. “And yet you’re already drenched for me.”

He keeps his touch light, drawing the tips of his fingers back and forth. When he reaches her clit, he draws the barest hint of a circle against it before pulling away again. A high pitched sound somewhere between a whine and a whimper tumbles past Nesta's lips, and she tries to shift her hips down, chasing the pressure, but he keeps her firmly pinned in place.

“Beg for it,” Rhys tells her, teasing at her entrance in a promise of the pressure to come and gathering the wetness there between his fingers.

Nesta moans softly, her hips stuttering again, but she turns her head over her shoulder enough to still glare at him. “You know you want to fuck me, so just do it already.”

“And yet you’re the one with your legs spread and desperate for me,” Rhys reminds her, skimming over her clit again, her cunt fluttering beneath his ministrations as if in agreement of his words. “Beg for it. And maybe I’ll be a generous High Lord and give it to you.”

Nesta huffs, turning her head back around and dropping it down between her shoulders. She doesn’t say anything, but Rhys is confident that her stubborn will won’t win out this time. He continues his teasing and taunting touches, daring to slip and press just the pad of his finger past her entrance.

“I’m waiting…”

“Please,” Nesta finally whispers. “Please. I need it.”

“That’s more like it.”

Rhys wastes no time sinking two fingers into her cunt, hard and deep. Nesta lets out a loud moan at the sudden intrusion, slumping forward even more against the sofa. Her cunt is warm and wet, practically inviting him in with the way it seems to pull his fingers even deeper, the way her walls flutter and clench around them. He drives his fingers in a rough, fast pace, scissoring and curling them. Every wanton sound he draws out of the female before him goes straight to his cock, his length somehow hardening even more.

“All these males in and out of here, and have you ever even been properly fucked? You’re so tight.”

“Fuck,” Nesta gasps out between moans. “You.”

“Oh, I intend to. I’ll show you what it’s like to take a real male’s cock.”

Rhys curls his fingers, finding that spot within her that has Nesta keening, has her back arching with the pleasure. Already, her skin has started to glisten, beads of moisture beginning to pool along her spine. Pressed this close together, her sweet scent engulfs him, making him dizzy. It drives him to work his fingers harder. To squeeze in a third finger. To press his thumb hard to her clit.

Every slide of his fingers is wet and hard. Each forceful thrust in sends Nesta’s hips jostling against the back of the sofa, and each time he drives his fingers back out, more of her arousal is drawn out too. It makes a mess of his hand, slicking between his fingers. Leaves the wet sounds of sex echoing through the apartment, a perfect harmony to the melody of Nesta’s moans.

He can tell she’s close from the way she starts to squeeze tighter around his fingers, her walls fluttering and pulsing in a steady pace. From the way her keens grow into a higher, breathier pitch. Her fists clench hard into the fabric of the sofa, and Rhys uses that exact moment to withdraw his hand completely.

“Please,” Nesta whispers again, letting out what sounds almost like a sob. It’s broken and needy, and Rhys’s cock twitches again in interest. “Please…”

“You forget that this is a punishment.” Rhys lifts his hand toward her face, dragging his fingers and her own arousal across her lips. “Clean them.”

Nesta dutifully sucks his fingers into her mouth, sliding her tongue around each digit. She moans around them, around the taste of herself, and Rhys presses his fingers even deeper, until she’s gagging against his touch. He slips his fingers free, but he doesn’t pull them far. Instead he grips her jaw, still sticky, wet fingertips digging into her skin. He yanks her face to look at him over her shoulder. Her eyes are unfocused, the blue of them swallowed by her pupils in their blown out, lust addled state.

“But this is what you want, isn’t it?” Rhys asks in a mocking tone. “You like to be punished, to be put in your place.”

He releases his hold on her with enough force that Nesta’s head merely sags back between her shoulders. Rhys knows that he could leave her just like this, desperate and keyed up and wanting. Knows that it would be punishment enough. He knows that he should leave her just like this, a voice tickling along the back of his mind to remind him of such.

But his own desire and need is a throbbing and wanting thing writhing inside his chest. Her cunt is the prettiest shade of pink, still fluttering and pulsing from his previous ministrations, practically begging for him to take take take. His power rumbles beneath his skin and echoes the chant, and Rhys slides a tantalizing hand down her spine, Nesta arching even more beneath his touch.

“Take it,” Nesta breathes softly as though reading his own thoughts. “Take me.”

Rhys focuses his attention back on his pants, tugging them further down his hips. He fists his cocks again, the pump of his hand already providing some relief for the ache burning low in his gut. He slides the head of his cock along her, gathering the wetness there and spreading it down the length of him. Nesta shudders and moans each time his cockhead catches on her clit, trying to rock further against him, and while the temptation to make her beg again is there, Rhys isn’t sure he’ll be able to wait much longer. For once, he wants to be selfish, and who better to be selfish with than the most selfish female he’s ever met.

He shifts his free hand to grip her hip, to hold her in place exactly how he wants her, and then he buries his cock inside her in one hard, clean thrust. The warmth and squeeze of her around him is indescribable, a groan escaping his clenched jaw. He can’t stop staring at where they’re joined. Can’t stop staring at the way her cunt opens for him, the way it swallows him.

“Rhysand,” Nesta’s voice brings him back to the present. “Move.”

“You’re the one who’s so desperate for cock. So you can fuck yourself on mine.”

Nesta whimpers at his harsh words, but there’s no denying the way she clenches down harder around him, the way her walls flutter still adjusting to his size. She spreads her legs wider, resetting her stance, and then she starts to move her hips. With the limited space between the sofa and Rhys’s body, she can do nothing but create shallow thrusts, but even still her sweet cunt somehow pulls Rhys even deeper, the drag of her walls enough that he has to tighten his grip against her hip.

He allows her control for just a few more thrusts before taking it back with a hard snap of his hips. He sets a punishing pace, his hand sliding up her back and shoving her down hard until she’s bent in half over the sofa. His hand traces along her shoulder, down her arm to her wrist. It takes some maneuvering around the way their bodies jostle with each rough thrust, but he’s able to move her hand down to her own cunt, move it so he’s fucking through her splayed fingers.

“Do you feel that?” Rhys growls out, his voice barely audible over the moans and cries of the female beneath him. “Do you feel how drenched you are for me? Feel how well you take your High Lord’s cock?”

He leaves her hand there and shifts his own to her breasts. They overflow in his palms, heavy and bouncing as he continues to fuck her hard. He pinches and tugs at her nipples, relishing in the way her cunt seems to respond each time he does. It doesn’t take long before Nesta begins to tighten even more around him on each inward thrust, before she’s practically trembling against him, clearly teetering right on that edge.

“Do you want to come?” Rhys teases one hand down just past her navel but no further. “Scream my name. Let all of Velaris know how good their High Lord is. And maybe I’ll be generous and fill you up.”

Nesta is all too happy to oblige, shouting his name until she’s practically hoarse between her choked off moans and high pitched whines. Rhys finally slips his hand lower and spreads her wider still. Her clit is slippery and swollen, and it only takes a few swipes of the pad of his fingers before Nesta is wailing brokenly, her whole body tensing as she finds her release.

Feeling her coming on his cock, the way she clamps around him, steals the breath straight from Rhys’s lungs. Despite the tightness of her still fluttering and pulsing cunt, Rhys doubles his efforts, fucking in harder and deeper and chasing his own release. His balls slap against her skin, filling the apartment and mixing with the sounds of his own grunts and Nesta’s whimpers.

“It’s… it’s too much…”

“You can take it,” Rhys tells her harshly, not stopping his movements. “I know you can take it. Don’t you want me to fill you up? Fill you up nice and deep until you’ll be dripping for days. Until every male in this city will know whose bitch you really are. Until you’ll always remember this cock.”

Nesta lets out another sob as another orgasm tears through her unbidden, clenching so hard that Rhys sees stars. He groans and buries himself as deep as he can go, his cock twitching as he spills inside her. He offers a few more shallow thrusts, riding out the last tendrils of his own release and taking a final moment to relish in the tight heat of Nesta’s still fluttering cunt.

She whimpers when he pulls his softening cock out, slumping against the sofa in a boneless heap. Rhys can’t help but fist his cock again, dragging the head through the absolute mess he’s made of her cunt. He gathers his seed that starts to dribble out of her, shallowing forcing it right back where it belongs, chuckling darkly at the way her knees give out at the action, the way she shudders.

“Perhaps now, you’ll remember your place in this Court,” Rhys whispers in her ear, both a threat and a promise.

He straightens back to his full height, carefully tucking himself back into his pants and tugging the cuffs of his sleeves back into place. He offers Nesta Archeron one last look, the female still naked and unmoving save for her still gasping breaths against the sofa, before turning and striding toward the door.

“I expect to see you at the next family dinner.”

#rhysta #nesrhys #nesta archeron #rhysand #acotar #acofas #nesta x rhys #nesta x rhysand #my fic

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m1ssunderstanding · 11 months ago

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Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Seven

Okay if anyone is super well-versed in the whole northern songs drama, I would LOVE your insights. I haven’t really looked into it, so all I know is they lost it right before the divorce meeting. What happened? What the hell is this? -- “Which includes Paul and John,” “Just about.” “What does that mean?” “No comment.”

The scouse getting thicker and thicker after “Carolina moOOn?” What can I say? I’m a sucker for it.

Paul’s absolute sugar-cookie heart-eyes when George walks in and then Ringo’s high-pitched “Hi Georgie!” Guys. Tone it down! I know you love him. But you just saw him yesterday, and you’ll see him again tomorrow. Oh wait . . . is today the day he quits?

John. If you look at your boyfriend like that while he’s being an attention-whore, he’s going to keep being an attention whore. So just. You know. Keep in mind what you’re encouraging here.

OMG they’re KISSING! (Live George reaction)

Paul. If you give your boyfriend what he wants while he’s being an attention-whore, he’s going to keep being an attention whore. So just. You know. Keep in mind what you’re encouraging here. (but literally, John just becomes a maniac, dancing and shouting, the MOMENT Paul goes to talk to George, and Paul’s instantly like “George, what george?”)

This Paul/George fight is, boiled down, literally just Paul being paranoid and anal and George trying to reassure him. “It’s not passe, it’s just a chord . . . yeah, but some drainies suit different occasions.”

“You need Eric Clapton.” “You need George Harrison.” John wasn’t here to be cute when George walked in, so he’s making up for it now.

“If you vamp, then it takes away from his vamping.” He says to the lead guitarist. Rolling my eyes so hard right now. See, the problem is, Paul loves George. But he’s IN love with John.

Literally, a montage of them raw-dogging it on the ground would be less gay than this insanity.

Poor baby. I would’ve quit a long time ago. Good for you.

I love John’s angsty guitar and torn-up vocals post-george.

And the minute her number one hater is gone, my girl gets on a mic! Way to be, honestly. And here’s the thing. Paul and Ringo (and obviously John) love it! There should’ve been a Beatles-Ono colab on a helter-skelter type track. Would’ve killed.

Paul swinging around on that scaffolding and me doing cartwheels in the bathroom between LSAT sections. ADHD besties!

John when George quits: “If he doesn’t come back by Tuesday we get Clapton in” (which he obviously doesn’t fully mean) VS John’s reaction when Paul misses one session: sprinting down the road and climbing a wall and screaming at him

Yoko sure does know how to cater to a fearful-anxious attachment. “John, John, John, Joooooooohhhhhhhnnnn!”

Literally Mo, marry me immediately! My kingdom for a kiss! She’s literally soo beyond gorgeous, I’m dying. Okay sorry I’ll be done now.

Men are the WORST! But who is making her laugh like that? Ringo? Is she looking off in the direction of the band? I can’t tell.

Another rare Paul feminist moment! Woop! “A7, D7, G7. Get ‘em off over the weekend and you’re in.”

“So, cats and kittens. What we gonna do?” . . . “Catch up! Cats and kittens. Don’t get left behind.” ???? There have got to be so many secret jabs on RAM for John to hate it so much that we just don’t understand. Is this one of them? Was this a saying of theirs?

Okay, good job. Now that the band is here, Mo isn’t being fucking mean-girled out of the circle. Also, Ringo sits by his wife, John by his girlfriend, and Paul by his daddy. As they should.

“The maresey beat awords for the best coople of the yeeuh.” Everyone studiously ignoring him. He’s so embarrassing.

I really really love Mo, though. Like I know I’m biased because she’s pretty, but her cute little “Yes!” when Paul jokingly suggests they do it at the cavern. She loved those days. The fact that she’s an og? God bless her, literally.

“Location isn’t really our main problem at the moment.” George Martin. “It’s breathing, actually.” said in the most casual voice possible but meant with the most wounded heart. Gosh, that one hurt. And then look how George Martin looks at him. His best boy is going through it.

The huggle! Ringo initiates it with Paul, of course, turning to him and gently gripping both biceps as he forces deep, direct eye contact. But then as Ringo’s pulling away, Paul leans into him and holds him there, talking. And as Ringo’s nodding, he looks to John, who basically pounces on both of them, head bowed, arms aggressive, pulling them all in, tighter, tighter until it’s a three-way head-bonk. Ringo’s hand at John’s waist now, and Paul’s fucking iron talons clenching desperately around his bicep. But still, John manages to pull away from Paul’s grip as Yoko inserts herself between them where, really, she decidedly does Not belong. It’s got to be the most painful non-hug ever recorded on camera. Nobody knows what anyone wants, let alone how to give it to them.

Why did the gayest one also have to be the saddest one though? I guess the Lord gives his hardest battles to his gayest soldiers, smh

#Very image-heavy this time #Pictures just spoke louder than words I guess #paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #get back

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mulders-too-large-shirt · 5 months ago

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s2 episode 24 thoughts

this episode was quite spooky. because cannibalism is real. but something about scully about to get her head chopped off and boiled seemed more outlandish than all the aliens and the guy that kills people with his shadow or even lizard man eugene tooms!

which is strange. because those things are pretty outlandish! maybe its because it was so much scarier than even evil lizard men.

let’s jump in:

so this is an episode involving more meat. did we need more meat, after the earlier meat processing content in s2 episode 10? many are saying no. but not chris carter!

we begin at a dirt road at night. in the state of arkansas. we have an older man and a younger woman named paula in a car, which is not suspicious at all! /s

oh and now the old man choking? is this natural or did she induce it with some poison. i mean maybe he deserved it, if she did. he takes some pills, so I’m guessing it is due to natural causes. now she beckons him out to the woods.

into the woods. she says he has to catch her. is she luring him into a Bigfoot trap? we have yet to really see Bigfoot, and maybe he’s hungry. although Bigfoot is more Pacific Northwest than Arkansas, i think.

author's note: we tested negative for bigfoot in this episode :(

oh! this man tripped and is now surrounded by people with flashlights and very cool masks. get axe murdered, fucker.

back in DC! aforementioned fucker has been gone for 10 weeks and scully thinks the higher ups are sending them on a wild goose chase. “i’m not questioning the legitimacy of the case, just their motives in assigning it to us” <- damn, very well spoken by a rightfully suspicious woman

oh, but at the scene, someone saw a fire. and mulder says the fire is “supposed to be the spirits of massacred Indians” OH...

(mentally i was like, please do not be another scary Indigenous story episode. and we did in fact get that. sighs deeply. we can make things scary without making Indigenous people the scary ones! or using the trauma of genocide as a setting for spooky time! well, i'm sure you, dear reader, know that, so i shall not preach to the choir, but i will point out that these thoughts were going through my mind)

“these are only legends, mulder”, says a dismissive scully. and why is her hair looking excellent today. I mean not that it isn’t usually but damn. shoutout to the hair and makeup team.

the place on the side of the road where he went missing had a big fire! could be a bonfire, both parties thought. until mulder remembered a documentary he saw in college...

(hehehehe mulder spent college watching documentaries <3)

! MULDER LORE REVEAL ! wow it's been a while since i've gotten to format some text like that. he watched a documentary about an insane asylum in college and it gave him nightmares.

(and this may not be super relevant to his character, but to ME, it is, so i shall note it <3)

he's got the VHS from the doc all loaded up, and presses play on a guy rambling about a fire demon!! who was found in the same spot as the fire mark!!! dun dun dunnn

(love the implication that he either purchased his own copy of the documentary that gave him nightmares in college, or had to go rent it from the video store. both are wonderful possibilities)

cut to arkansas. mulder is on the scene holding a plastic fork from the ground. wearing his silly sunglasses. lmaooo idk why they make me laugh. what a serious gentleman.

sheriff arrives at the scene. he says the witch’s peg to ward off spirits is normal there and also that the fire mark comes from illegal trash burning. and, as an American i am aware of how Americans love an illegal trash burn. but still. suspicious.

sheriff says the missing man george was chasing women out of town. lovely sounding fellow /s

wife questioning time!! he left her years ago. oh, but tea: the day before he went missing he was going to cite major health violations in the chicken plant! hmm... a cause for murder?

mulder gives the wife his phone number. also mulder is also looking very good today. but that is an evil voice in my head that ought to be silenced.

noooo, it's chicken plant time. no thank you ma’am, i would be out in the car <3

paula from the woods at work in the plant!!! taking mystery pills. seemingly in pain??

chicken cutting cam. oh, this is not for me!

the agents chat with the manager, who says george was trying to shut them down. and while clocked in, paula is sweating. she just gasped in front of a whole bunch of chickens and some guy with very blue eyes. she sees a human head on the chicken stand and picks it up and throws it off. shoutout to this fake decapitated head and my best friends in the prop department for making such a funny creation.

(but of course, it was a hallucination, and she really just threw a poor chicken on the floor!!! his sacrifice was in vain... gone but not forgotten)

mulder is inspecting the chicken gutting operation and i've said it before and i'll say it again: he is braver than me.

ohh, more chicken drama: george was filing a lawsuit about “line hypnosis” and it was dismissed before he vanished! he deserved to win. is there a meat processing union? there ought to be. but he was the only one citing bad health practices, the other 3 workers said it was fine... sooo what’s the truth…

“what’s that” asks mulder, who then gets shown the feed processor, and asks “chickens feed on chickens?” <- heartbreaking realization. many of us remember where we were when learning this information. i'm sure it will stick with him forever. and i'm frankly surprised he didn't know already.

NAURRR THE SLUDGE AND BLOOD nasty nasty evil

OH plot twist: paula is holding the manager with a knife to his throat… scully telling everyone to calm down. personally i would be not calm. she said “don’t get excited” but me? experiencing an active hostage situation at my place of work? i would be excited

NOOO the sheriff shot her and she fell into the feed conveyor belt processing… thing. sheriff i KNOW you are covering something up. you will not hide from me.

SHE GETS GULPED INTO THE FEED BELT THINGY GAGGG it’s giving the jungle by upton sinclair that caused many american 8th graders to confront the corruption of the meat industry

paula had gone to the doctor about headaches… like george!!! doctor had assumed the condition was stress induced. and they did have similar symptoms.

treated them both with codine… ain’t that a bit strong?? this man doesn't seem to be a very good doctor, tbh. i mean i don't think the guy that works at the chicken plant to sew back on fingers needs to be an expert in everything but like. codine for headaches? umm girl.

mr. chaco of chaco’s chicken was paula’s grandfather… if i was a grandfather rich off of chicken money, my grandkids would not be working the processing line, let me tell u that much!

back to the agents: these two should not be looking as good as they do in a chicken processing plant. they had to really step it up today to compensate for the horrors of the set.

chicken man lives in a mansion. further evidence of corruption. paula, i would not have had you working in such conditions if i was your grandfather. there has been a deep wrong here, i can see already.

and he’s got a big hat and is feeding his chicken corn. not other chickens, like the feed he makes in his plant... seems he is aware of the ethical issues implied in his business. also, mulder with those weird ass glasses.

cacho is going on about the subject of chickens. and how he built this town. he sure is taking an awful lot of credit for creating a town, pretty sure that's a team effort mr. chaco. he's also going on about how he thought george was trying to tear him down.

AUTOPSY TIME!! rare degenerative disorder in da brain of paula. and scully has only seen it one other time back in med school because you can only really find it in an autopsy. nice work, doctor! <- i just typed “nice worm 🪱” so we'll let that stay for the added sense of whimsy it provides

but despite looking like a young girl fresh out of high school, paula was born in '48?! she was 47 years old. allegedly. this is not adding up. so they go on a quest to find her birth certificate and see what the truth is.

debrief in the car. so: odds are not great that she and george had the same very rare disease

during this discussion, our duo are run off the road by a chicken truck!!!! no! oh... he drove them into a river. mulder has shifted into rescue mode as the river is red with chicken gore. i feel someone might be distracting them and trying to get the body… (this was actually not the case i was just overly suspicious)

but more chicken drama: the driver had the same symptoms as george and paula! how can this be?!

“i just came up with a sick theory, mulder” (grabs her shoulder) “ooh, I’m listening” LMAOOOO this is sososo funny to me. yeah tell me ur sick theories scully you have my full attention.

GAG!! because it is both gross and shocking. her theory: what if someone put george’s body in the feed grinder, and then since it’s a prion disease, a chicken ate it, and someone ate a chicken, and it spread to the humans!!!! AHHHH! well that would be an epidemic, because they ship chickens out across the country… she glances knowingly, implying things could be very bad

the river is filled with bird gore from the plant BLECH... who allows this??!! please say there are some modern regulations in place to prevent this being done irl.

mulder says he wants it dragged, thinking that maybe george is in there. and the sheriff is hesitant to do this. once again, i’m onto you, sheriff. i mean, a river full of chicken gore: it would be a good place to put a dead body.

and bam! a body is found. or rather. many many many bones. many bodies. and they are still going. damn.

so, we have a ton of bones. scully can put them into 9 distinct skeletons, one of which is in fact george. i love that she can do that, put the bones into distinct skeletons. she knows it's geroge from a pin in his femur!

“all of them share one, strange detail though” “well, they seem to have lost their heads” “… well, besides that” <- LMAOOOO idk why this was so funny to me... he really thought he picked up on something but he did Not.

here's the linking detail: all the bones are smooth and buffed like they have been polished. ??? who is polishing bones? it sure isn't me, i'll tell you that much.

george’s wife is at the scene, learning her husband's body has been found, and she is sobbing. and the sheriff says “we’ll take care of you” now what does THAT mean? because it's not really sounding like the welcoming words of a man who is going to guide his neighbor through tragedy, and instead like there is something bigger at play here...

back at the plant, the doctor is mentioning another guy coming down “with the symptoms”…. omg. so this IS a known thing from the inside. mr. chaco knows but he isn’t doing anything about it!!!!! chicken dramaaaa goes crazy

scully at the scene of all the bones, carrying a bucket of chicken. lmao. she is braver than me, for i would have gone vegan the first moment i set foot in chicken processing land.

mulder does some digging: 87 people have disappeared in the area in 50 years! that seems... a lot? and he thinks the same person or persons were responsible. he thinks they were EATEN!! boiled in a pot.

“they used similar evidence to prove cannibalism among on the Anasazi tribe of New Mexico” okay: 1. why do you know that 2. need to look into these allegations for myself and 3. Anasazi… that is the title of the next episode!!! what could this mean!! another cannibalism episode?!

scully is very sad to say that paula could have gotten sick from eating george :( girl I’m not convinced the chicken is clean put it down NOW

cannibalism = eternal life? follow for more crazy mulder theories!

she puts aside the chicken……. good!

mr. chaco says “he’ll handle it” and george's wife doris arrives, saying she “can’t keep lying”… she says “she did it” (!!)

OH????? she... killed her husband? that is a bold thing to admit to.

“we’re gonna take good care of you”, says mr. chaco, which raises the question: are they a cannibal cult???? is that what he means when he mentions that he “built this town”???

now what the hell is going on. <- an interjection i stand by

mulder and scully are going to the courthouse to look at the papers and all the birth records are burnt!! doris calls mulder and says he’s afraid mr. chaco will kill her… they split up…. nooooo i hate splitting up!!! i watched so much scooby doo as a kid!

GASP! a guy in a mask like we saw at the very beginning of the episode is in doris' home!!! drumbeat playing while she screams…. overall, this is very not good, i wrote, referring to the use of Indigenous imagery for this murder, and also doris being murdered in the first place

scully at the scene of the murder ft. big ass flashlight. she gets in through the side door. gun: out. trench coat: open. looks: served. diagnosis: baby girl that could kill me, and i am respectful of the fact that she has this power yet refrains from using it on me.

mulder at mr. chaco’s house. mr. chaco has some… stuff in his home. including photos with Indigenous people and also bones. having human bones in your house, and especially on display, is not a good sign of ethics in play. and a skull. Oh! it says the skull is from a tribe in New Guinea... why tf does he have that. put it back???

at the back of chaco's parlor, we see a mysterious door. mulder is busting it open.

LORD ALMIGHTY, I DID NOT THINK THERE WOULD BE HEADS INSIDE??? HELLO???

so that must be where all of the heads that mulder noticed were missing have gone. they're sewn up sort of like shrunken heads. very spooky. once again, pour one out for the props department for such a creation.

noooo chaco is in the house with scully, who was investigating the call of doris. NOOOO HE KNOCKED HER OUT!!! this seriously needs to stop happening like i'm worried about the brain damage she is experiencing.

back to mulder cam. goodness. all of these heads.

in a field now. doctor is serving some soup. to a bunch of people. who are eating around a big bonfire. do NOT tell me scully is in that meal....

she is not. YET! but he is bringing her over to be roasted. and they ate doris! chaco is yelling about turning on each other and how they were only supposed to eat outsiders. girl you shouldn't be eating anybody last time i checked.

man in the mask shows up with an axe. and chaco is decapitated in front of scully. who is put into the decapitation thingy next. GIRL THIS IS FUCKED UP!!!

mulder on the scene, just in time. he shoots the dude in the mask.

“you alright?” he asks, brushing her hair back after lifting her out of the decapitation machine. my good friend, i would venture to guess that she is not quite alright at the moment!!! this will take an awful lot of unpacking!!!

sigh. but the tenderness of the near death experience. coming back to life in someone's arms. yeah i'll romanticize that.

TEA!!! the sheriff was the one under the mask!!!!!! i knew he was up to no good.

wrap up: chicken place shut down. unclear how many citizens of the town ate people. 27 have become ill with prion disease. chaco’s plane was shot down in 1947, and he spent 7 months with a cannibalistic tribe, and also he was born in 1902, so he was 93 at his death- so the cannibalism really WAS extending life. and we see some more feed being scooped to the chickens as scully says his remains have yet to be found. end scene.

HUH???? what in da hell. so what are we thinking kids…?

well, i'll tell you something: turns out i am afraid of cannibal cults, no matter how outlandish they seem! i guess when you get a villain or evil situation of the week show like this, you WILL learn exactly what kind of fear pushes your buttons. i can imagine almost nothing scarier than being led to the slaughter like scully was. seems a purposeful commentary on the meat industry, especially when taken in with the other meat episode this season.

so, if i were scully, i do think i would need to take a week or so off. but she is just built different than i am.

some things bugged me here. first of all, like i mentioned, you don't need to throw in Indigenous people to make a scary story. like is the thought of a bunch of arkansas cannibals not horrific enough? the scary was there!

second, i have not been doing a kidnapping count, but i feel that scully is getting the rough of the deal here. i believe in gender equality when it comes to characters being kidnapped. like, an even 1:1 ratio. why are we denying mulder his damsel in distress arc? does anyone think about how he would feel? how nice it would be to see scully burst in with a gun and shoot the fellow that was about to cannibalize him?

still, it is rare an episode actually spooks me, so i must give credit where it is due. even if it felt a little outlandish, your girl was frightened! scully needs a vacation now. i also thoroughly laughed at the sick theories line and his funny sunglasses.

it's funny to note, but i like the episodes that are either very silly and light hearted, or incredibly angsty the best. and that may seem contradictory, but you cannot tell me that one breath and humbug may be on opposite ends of the tone spectrum, but they are both objectively Perfect. i'll have to think more on why they are the best in my opinion, but i think honestly i would watch these two read the dictionary.

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raisedbythetv89 · 1 year ago

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I feel like Logan’s death really commandeers the conversation about how terrible season 4 of Veronica Mars is (understandably so it is horrific) but there’s literally SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT 😭

Veronica isn’t Veronica and Logan isn’t Logan (really NO ONE is truly in character anymore). Rob Thomas clearly has NO IDEA what healing actually looks like so Logan becomes this pop psychology stereotype with no depth or emotion and like Veronica literally says A POD PERSON. And he describes his therapy as controlling his anger so it doesn’t consume him. That might have been the move as a temporary band-aide immediately to stabilize his life after season 3 but what like 12 years later???? When season 4 starts? ABSOLUTELY NOT. Fire that therapist immediately 😭 He should be WELL into the source of his anger. Healing isn’t about control it’s about surrender and acceptance of your feelings and developing healthy coping strategies to process your newly uncovered feelings so you can live WITH them not in spite of them. There’s a reason so many “good guy” characters are so one dimensional and boring it’s because the male writers writing them literally have NO CLUE what a healthy well adjusted men act like 😭 - (Ted Lasso was so rare because we had good men writing good men)

And yes we know Logan punching people does it for Veronica but that’s because it is ALWAYS in defense of her but his safety and well being is always her number 1 priority (he pulls a gun to save her in the Fitzpatricks bar and she screams at him because she doesn’t want him to get hurt or killed in his attempt to defend her and she’s terrified). Him just punching a kitchen cabinet in rage and frustration is NOT the same thing at all and she would show concern in that situation not immediately instigate sex ROBERT.

The idea that Veronica did ZERO growing/healing/processing in those 12 years is so insulting and just not realistic - once she got space and distance she would have come out of fight or flight and been assaulted with all the repressed emotions from seasons 1-3 before law school yet somehow she’s WORSE than she was when she was younger with less stability and support and capacity to handle everything she was dealing with.

Especially after everything established in the movie!

“Are you gonna ask me if I did it?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I thought you did”

THE AMOUNT OF GROWTH THAT SHOWS IN VERONICA IS ACTUALLY INSANE. Miss never trusts anybody, suspect EVERYONE until your can verify the truth - believes Logan and Weevil AT THEIR WORD. Trusts THEIR CHANGE implicitly and picks helping Logan and Weevil BECAUSE SHE CARES not because it’s a fucking addiction as Rob tried to frame it in the movie 💀💀💀 Veronica always helped because she’s SOFT because she has a good heart and can’t help but help when she knows she can which is classic of parentified children - you believe everything is your responsibility to fix if it’s in your capability to fix. Does she get neurotic trying to solve cases? Absolutely! But that is trying to control and fix external problems as a distraction from her own. It was a coping mechanism and taking that coping mechanism away in the 9 years between season 3 and the movie would have caused serious problems for her that would have forced her to confront her issues.

Season 4 could have been Veronica having a complete break down from her always too full plate coming crumbling down trying to help and fix too much combined with logan being gone and always at risk when he is gone, Wallace bringing new life into an increasingly corrupt neptune she can’t seem to save, Mac working for Jake Kane?!!?! I would have loved If instead she was helping Mac deal with the swapped at birth thing they NEVER touched again. Combined with her dad’s health problems and Weevil falling back into his old habits. She is someone who feels responsible for everything and everyone around her because everyone blamed her for EVERYTHING when she was younger and eventually that catches up with you and THAT is what I wanted to see her strength crumble forcing her to be truly vulnerable and instead of asking for favors asking for HELP allowing her to stop acting like a woman written by a man and act like an actual adult woman BY women who actually understand that experience. Rob was SO out of his depth - his portrayal of Leanne in earlier seasons already proved that.

But that’s just one of literally 1 million possibilities that would have been better than the direction Rob chose. He managed to strip away everything we loved about ALL of his characters until they were ghosts of themselves and it makes me SO UPSET 😭 because he literally revived a show just to finish the destruction path he started in season 3, that had started to be corrected in the movie because it was so controlled by the fans.

Rob and Joss - two men who’s success was built upon a largely female audience and then their misogyny caused them to try and destroy everything their audiences loved 🙃🙃🙃🙃

#thanks I hate it #veronica mars #fuck rob thomas #fuck joss whedon #logan echolls #season 4 veronica mars

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dangermousie · 6 months ago

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Finished my rewatch of ep 2 of City Hunter and it really still holds up.

I love that he sees her throw a man over her shoulder in the first two minutes of their acquaintance and he is definitely intrigued. Honestly, so much of this ep is him being so smitten and not even realizing he is.

I mean, the last shot is after she knocked him over for kissing her as a means to dump his source of information after the information dried up and giving her cash for the trouble of the kiss. (She stuck money back at him and said "for treatment." )

But then there was this earlier - him making out with his target while watching Nana the whole time. Badwronghot.

(And of course the very fact that he's sleeping with someone he doesn't want for info. He may not want to carry out undaddy's murder plan with murder but he's certainly been trained to do a lot of things that are objectively fucked up and to treat himself as an instrument.)

The thing that strikes me so much on rewatch is just how AWFUL undaddy is in his plan. It's one thing to take out people he thinks wronged him and his dead partner. It's another one to use a baby you stole and to fuck him up and train him into a killing machine who will then unknowingly kill his own father. I mean, this was genuinely chilling:

He is meeting the President who he does not know is his father but who he also does not know is his final target. Not to mention his half-sister is checking him out and it's just so wrong wrong wrooooong. It could have all gone way more horrifically wrong than it already did.

In retrospect, it's so clear how undaddy is manipulating the hell out of him, leading him on with the hope that after this is over they can live a normal life. Undaddy told him the name of only one target, and that's the slimiest, least sympathetic one and says he'll tell him the names of the others and why he wants him in the Blue House later - you know what that is? That's grooming. He's slowly and methodically grooming him into an assassination machine via baby steps and that is effing creepy as hell and my wish for undaddy to be eaten by snakes and I am only sad it took as long as it did for him to meet his demise.

Trust you? Great idea. NOT.

It kills me just how kind YS tries to be even with his insane upbringing - he paid for Nana's father surgery, he was kind to those kids, and he wants to take down the target without murder. Oh, young man, you are gonna go through hell and a half in this drama.

Also, I love how even this early on, he is so gone for her. He knows she's the girl whose picture he fixated on in hell jungle. And what better way to angst than in the shower? Man, I miss those glorious old school angsty kdrama shower scenes.

But I think my favorite sequence in this whole ep and the one that speaks volumes is what happens after he goes to her apartment (after carrying her four flights of stairs since she sprained her ankle.) It's an almost throwaway moment but it says so much. He sees all these markings on the wall and asks her what the weird numbers and notches are all for and she explains, as one would to a somewhat dim small child, that this is how her family would measure her height every month, throughout her childhood, until she was 17. I liked it so much because in those few seconds it established both the warm, loving, thoroughly normal childhood Nana had and what a lack of one he had - that he has to have something this basic explained to him. And then his little pleased grin when he figures out exactly how tall she is in her bare feet compared to him and where she'd come up to on his chest - he's pretty much unknowingly in love with her to bits and so learning little things like that about her make him happy.

The thing that I love so much is that Nana doesn't have a charmed life - her father is in a vegetative state, her mother died in the same accident that made her father that way, and bank was close to taking away everything for debt. But she's had love and warmth and a solid foundation and so she's sunshine - but it's a choice for her and an affirmation, it's not because she's only known sweetness and light.

The scene where she explains the stickers is a very quiet scene I adored - in a way she's an inverse mirror of him. She has a dead parent and one parent who's as good as dead, but she's a good sunny person and not a mess like he is because she was brought up properly. And eventually his being around her drags him into normalcy, which is helped by the fact that he doesn't feel any personal urgency in vengeance. Yeah, all these people killed his supposed father but it's abstract to him - he's never even met the man. He will get rid of them because undaddy basically brainwashed him into it, but he doesn't have an emotional stake in their deaths (even if he has one in the outcome - getting to find his mother and living a normal life, which undaddy dangles like a carrot). However, he has an emotional stake in people he knows - Nana being one of them but other people as well (you can see later, her character basically draws him into interacting with others on personal levels).

You watch him be empathetic and you watch him be teasing and dorky about the ramen and you realize that his demeanor is not just a disguise - it's someone he'd like to be and possibly would have been except for undaddy. And that around her he lets his guard down and allows himself to be childish.

#kdrama #city hunter #park min young #lee min ho

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thenamessparkplug · 8 months ago

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The Bad, The Worse, and The Downright Idiotic

A Wiatt Nicholson Analysis

YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG I HAVE WAITED TO VERBALLY KILL THIS DUDE. I HAVE BEEN STRANGLING HIM WITH MY MIND SINCE THE COLLAPSE OF THE BUILDING. AND THIS IS WHY.

DISCLAIMERS!! : One, I have absolutely nothing against any of the writers on this show! You all are doing a fantastic job for how small this series is and I do genuinely adore the work you guys do < 3. Second, I want to make it clear that I do not condone anything Sara has done on her own terms. And she has done bad things on her own terms. She has done horrible things and I do not think that should be brushed under the rug. I do, however, believe her to be redeemable.

(side note I did get a lil sidetracked when talking about sara, whom I also have strong feelings towards and'll prolly get her own rant in the future)

What has Wiatt done?

Now Wiatt seems to have his heart in the right place, however good intentions hardly amount to much when your actions directly cause death, suffering, and irreversible damage.

He can’t tell that so much of what’s going on is because Litho knows he’s going to lead people directly into his own plans. This especially became evident in the last episode. Did he not remember the risks of anything relating to Litho?? Why on earth would he think it was safe for Pen, Lisa, or even Hayden whom narrowly survived?

I know by this point to take everything character’s say with a grain of salt (and I know this isn’t directly Wiatt’s fault either), but I really wanna get into what Hayden said while yelling at Wiatt. He states that since he arrived at dreamworld, someone has gone missing every week. Wiatt has worked here for at least a year. Even considering taking a month off for the collapse fiasco, that is 47 weeks. 47 people. THAT IS INSANE. Even cutting that number in half for hyperbole’s sake that’s still 23 missing people since Wiatt started. Jesus christ man.

What else has he done? He broke Starlight after recklessly jumping into a hole, got wtdw!rainbott seemingly mindwiped, recorded entirely private and frankly unrelated moments and UPLOADED them, been responsible for the deaths of his coworkers (to name a few anyways), and what does he have to show for it? A police station that thinks he’s insane. He couldn’t possibly have been more tactless trying to convince them to begin an investigation.

It seems he thinks that because the people he’s against are bad, that automatically makes him good - in the right - but he is so blinded by his sense of a binary wrong and right he fails to see the horrible things he himself has caused.

Against the Antagonist

I wanna talk about Sara for a second. From what we’ve learned thus far, and I know we haven’t gotten all that many Sara scenes, almost all of what Sara does seems to be attempting to clean up a mess she made many years ago, in comparison to Wiatt who does absolutely nothing but stir the pot.

Sara is stuck here; she is bound to Litho and cannot escape no matter how hard she wants to. She had friends. She’s doing what Litho wants because she has to. We saw what happened when she tried to defy him. Wiatt is only here because of one connection, but could literally leave whenever he wants no harm no foul.

Now the Norman thing I am curious about, because so far, I can’t figure out why 1. she killed him in the first place and certainly 2. why she kept the footage of it. She never seemed to hate Norman, if anything she would be against him for clearly being infatuated with Andrew, and I can’t really blame her for that? I mean nothing is enough to justify murder, but it wouldn’t be in cold blood. I’m also assuming this is before Dreamworld Entertainment due to the fact that Norman seemingly had no involvement. Another odd thing not only was he rebuilt to look exactly like he did when he was alive, but he retained all of his memories as well, and was given a higher power among the staff of Watchful Eye Toys, with memory control himself.

Whatever happened during his death must have been important.

But back to Wiatt. All of Sara actions, albeit terrible, were calculated and she did what she believed was necessary. Wiatt has no concept that his actions have consequences, so all he does is messy things up, making everything far worse than it needed to be.

Why should I care? (Comparison to Eric)

At the very beginning when Eric is first introduced, we are given no reason to care at all about him. I mean, we know he was friends with Lewis but that’s not enough to really grow any attachment to him. We start learning little facts about him, but when it really clicks is during the secret tapes.

Seeing Eric outside of the main plot, his real personality, his hopes, his dreams, his struggles starting from a young age up until how he is today. We’re given the chance to build connections with him and see him as a real person, a character with depth. Knowing his motivations and what built him makes it so easy to grow extremely attached, making any horrific things hit much harder.

Now moving back to Wiatt, we really don’t get to see the real him. We see him once interacting with Lewis, but even that was simply for plot relevance. We really know nothing about him. Even his transition, which would be so easy to capitalize on seeing as the viewership of Dreamworld is highly LGBTQ+, and many people would relate. But we get more about Mike’s transition than Wiatt, and he’s only ever had one real scene as himself.

That’s not even dipping into who Wiatt is as a person. What are his passions? Who are his loved ones outside of just Lewis? What was school like for him? What got him into the mechanic business? Who took care of him after his parents died? I understand this can be hard to smoothly integrate into a story but look how well it worked with Eric’s tapes.

Now this is getting much more into the writing side of the show, but I think something that's kind of lacking is character building filler. As much as having a concise plot is nice, without scenes or even full episodes dedicated to fleshing out our cast, it makes it really difficult to connect.

There’s so so much of his character to explore that we just never get into, and it kinda makes it hard to root for him when there’s nothing backing his character. Just like, a few more tapes of Wiatt would be plenty, something outside of Lewis. I would love to see his relationships with other characters (you cannot build a sense of character off one single relationship), how he views himself, just anything.

Its incredibly difficult to analyze a character when they seemingly have no depth.

In Conclusion

I am not a fan of Wiatt as it currently is (understatement of the year), but good god am I persuadable. I just want Dreamworld to give me a reason to root for him. Something to sympathize with, relate to. Have him improve. Allow him to realize his mistakes, and become a better person for that.

I don’t think he’s a lost cause.

But give me a reason to believe that.

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xerith-42 · 11 months ago

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Minecraft Diaries Stoner Headcanons

Part 2 in the Aphverse Stoner Series!

Disclaimer: I haven't watched Season 3! I mean, I have, but I don't remember any of it other than that Blaze was in it-- And I just checked the wiki and he's a villain? Uhm. No, he isn't. Hatsune help me I'm going to have to make a whole post about that now... anyways, pretend Blaze is just like another guard Irena gathered because she just collects them like they're pokemon.

Blaze our beloved to start us off. Uh, pipe weed is really common in Ru'aun, it's actually a primary export. And well, Blaze is a pretty big fan of it. Once when he's smoking weed with his friend, he comes to a realization.

"Listen, listen. We use earth with the plant, fire by lighting it, and air to inhale it. What we're missing is water." I am saying that Blaze made the first bong in the MCD universe. Or that he at least came up with it and was credited for the original idea. These two are very proud of their idea and want to spread it everywhere.

Pipe weed is not allowed at the guard academy, and guards are expected to remain sober, even though alcohol is okay?? Doesn't really make sense to a lot of new cadets, including Laurance, who's able to smuggle it in, and hide it from Garroth.

Vylad does actually smoke pipe weed, particularly while on his own during those 15 years. It helps relax their muscles, and causes a sort of numbness that helps keep the calling quiet.

When he tells Laurance of this, both of them share it together at some point.

Dante used to smoke weed with Laurance on slow nights in Phoenix Drop, and even smoked it with Nicole a few times. He quit when he found out Nana was pregnant.

The number one smoker is Travis. His mom had a stock pile of it he found, enough to last years, and it's one of the main things he brings with him to Ru'aun.

When Travis and Blaze meet, they are instant friends. I don't know what happens in Season 3, but this is all that matters to me. They would be BESTIES!!

Despite being banned by the church, Zane is in a position of power so the rules don't apply to him. He never does it when he has something serious going on, but when Zane has some downtime, he'll light up a bowl to take the strain out of his shoulders.

A downside of being a Shadow Knight is that your lungs are much more used to inhaling smoke and dealing with heat thanks to the Nether, so they have some insane tolerance. Like, Vylad was smoking so much, and Laurance is never not frustrated at how much he has to go through in a single sitting just to feel something.

And Aaron? When he was a father? And a Lord?? Of course he was smoking. He was very careful about it, and kept it away from Jacob. And as he traveled with the rest of the cast, he was always careful to hide it from the kids. He didn't quite mind if anyone else saw, as long as they were smart enough not to ask for it.

Travis is not smart enough.

Also Aaron likes wearing the bandana when he accidentally gets a little too high so no one can see how bloodshot his eyes are. Irena can tell by the way he stumbles a little more than usual.

Zoey? Pot head. She's literally an immortal elf, she has tried every drug Ru'aun has ever had and then some. She stops smoking it as much when she's taking care of the kids, but after the group is gone for a few years and she spends more nights searching for a way to bring them back, she picks it back up to try and seem less stressed when people talk to her.

I feel like all Lords smoke just a little. Like, it's such a stressful job. You're constantly having to care for so many people, be a master of subjects you might not have studied, and who knows when one day you wake up to the news that you have to ready yourself for war. People need a way to relieve the stress.

Except Irena. She tried it once when she caught Aaron smoking and it tasted so bad and she did not enjoy the feeling at all. When she becomes friends with Blaze he tries to coax her into it, but she never caves, and he backs off.

LUCINDA on the other hand!! She's a witch! She's a bit of an herbalist! Does she know the perfect growing conditions for the plant of origin and how to cultivate it's harvest for maximum output?? You bet your ass she does!

Blaze x Lucinda x Travis polycule when?

The first time Lucinda and Blaze meet each other he tells her about his innovation of using glass devices to create water vapor that you can smoke, and Lucinda very eagerly drags him into her brewing room and just proudly goes "I have a cauldron!! >:)" And Blaze gets so excited!! He's already trying to figure out what he would have to custom order to work with this, but he needs to try it.

Wait why is that adorable I need to write that now.

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half-truths-and-hyperbole-louk · 9 months ago

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Louk's Bad Batch rewatch part 19 AND 20 😳

straight into it again batchers 🤟

The Bad Batch 1x15

Crosshair coming to visit Hunter how sweet 💕

Echo teaching Omega to stay focused while being stressed 🥺

every time I see Rampart I wanna smash his face in a little bit more

Omega with her secret base 🥷

her wet droopy hair 🥺

Tech looks like Korkie rn he's a ginger in the light

Echo checking in on Omega 😭

Crosshair you need to listen to Hunter he's right

Hunter: "we didn't have a choice" Crosshair: "and I did?" 😭😭😭😭😭

Omega: "experimental unit 99 began right here" Wrecker: "is that true?" Tech: "how could I possibly know that?" 💀

where are all the other clones "reassigned and transferred offworld" ??? op what does this mean

"guess you were wrong about that" lmao Wrecker

Crosshair listen here you sassy little-

siblings always know when you're lying 🤭

Crosshairs whole speech in the training room....

"I'm going to give you what you never gave me ...a chance" 😭😭😭

"we're not like the regs, we never have been" - this line sounds the most like a reg Crosshair has sounded was this on purpose ??

Crosshair cutting the binders with Hunter's knife AJDJSKAJFL

Tech spotting the discs and silently telling Wrecker !!! I'm jumping over my couches

BDIWOANSHWUAALLDNFIWIANFJEK WHEN CROSSHAIR SHOOTS ALL THE OTHER SOLDIERS WHEN HE- WHEN I- I'VE GONE INSANE-

Crosshair never wanted to kill them he wanted them back 😭😭😭😭😭

THEIR FACES THE MUSIC THE ENTIRE SCENE THEYRE WORKING TOGETHER IVE SURPASSED INSANITY

Tarkin 🤢🤢

Crosshair's holding his head 👀 Chips still there !!

them fighting about the chip 😭 Tech scan his brain pls

Omega hugging Hunter 🤲🥺😭🥰

the completely empty rooms I can't

the regs who open fire 👀 Slip???

I can't deal with watching tipoca city fall 😭

I can't deal with them watching it fall 😭😭😭

THE OUTRO-

The bad batch 1x16

the silence after the blast knocks them down

Crosshair woke up as they slid and I think Echo was out 🥺

that poor reg with the status report I wanna hug him so bad 💔

oop they were all out not just Echo

Tech: *can't hack the door* Wrecker: "I can" kinfe knife knife knife knife

Tech is pulling the door with his fingers 🥺

Wrecker gently catching Omega and passing her to Echo who just holds her for a bit 🥺🤲🥰💔😭💕

then Crosshair just slides into Hunters foot lmaooo

I don't think Crosshair knew what the empire was planning ?? he just wakes up and blames the boys for it ??

them all stopping to look at the water filling up in the baby clone room with all the empty tubes 😭

Omega catching AZI 🥺

DID CROSSHAIR JUST CATCH ECHO 👀

the last time they're all in their room together 💔

lmao Echo with the smell 💀

SHE just saved your ass Crosshair settle down

sibling squabbles turning into heartfelt convos 🥲 Wrecker missed Crosshair so much

theres always a bigger fish

they're all just sitting together to catch their breath 🤲

all back in the lab together 🥲

mhm Crosshair she's your BIG sister show her some respect

CROSSHAIR THIS IS NOT OMEGAS FAULT YOU BUTTHEAD

you sound an awful lot like a clone with an inhibitor chip rn buddy 👀

also sounds like Saw Gerrera which is never a good sign

"all you'll ever be to them is a number" ~ Hunter, then Crosshair's head immediately starts hurting hmmmm 🤔

I think it's still in there and its starting to stop working similar to Tup... possibly bc he got a little fried on that side of his head...

ptsd for Echo being in that tube 🥲💔

Omega doing the blasting instead of Wrecker !!

They're hugging in the tubes I know it

Omega's worried voice 🥺

"I'm going after AZI" 😭

CROSSHAIR 💕💕💕💕

Hunter's nervous hands tapping waiting for Omega to come up 🥺🥲

then him picking her up out of the water and his "I've gotcha" 😭😭😭😭😭

Crosshair handing over his rifle while the other three are ready to shoot him 🥲

Hunter holding Omega's hand- I'm gone y'all

Crosshair refusing to look at them while they're looking at him 💔

the sun shining on kamino after all of that, like the calm *after* the storm... which is unsettling bc it's usually the calm before the storm

Hunter picking Omega up again 🤲 he's so gentle

them all just staring at where their home used to be 💔😭

Wrecker holding AZI like a baby 🥺

they all look so dad (I tried to type sad but both works)

Hunter's soft smile telling Omega it's time to go 🥰

Hunter watching Omega and Crosshair talking

"you're still their brother, Crosshair. You're my brother too." star wars wants me to never stop crying as if I'm not already dehydrated enough

not thinking about how that was the last thing he heard for how many weeks??

FKN TANTISS

all the clone commandos everywhere 👀 the rest of delta squad when

WE DID IT !!! WE FINISHED SEASON 1 💕

Now I'm going to speed watch s2 in the next 2 days omg my emotions won't survive lmao

thanks everyone who's followed along and interacted so far I love seeing love for tbb so seeing people enjoying my responses makes me super happy 💕 I hope tbb3 is good to us 🙏

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 10 months ago

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Made in his image

(Shapeshifter!au Tallulah. Showing a lack of self-esteem by having her literally change herself to get adopted. <3)

She pressed back against the wall, listening dully to the conversation floating over to her. The sound echoed around the walls of the tiny dug-out space she called her house (bouncing around her head, mocking her), making it hard to pinpoint where it was coming from.

It wasn’t like it mattered, anyway. Her throat was wrecked after so long without nearly any water, and she was too starved to put any kind of force into punching the wall, let alone punch it hard enough to alert them of her presence.

Quietly, she scratched another number in the ground by her hand, clawed fingers marring the floor. It had been smooth when she had first woken up there, but now tiny divots littered the ground. Not for the first time, she wondered what color the stone actually was.

Light. Lighter than her, when she pressed her hand to the floor and squinted she could make out that much, but otherwise it was a mystery.

The conversation halted abruptly.

Too abruptly. Not as if they had gone out of hearing range, but as if they had simply stopped talking.

Like they were trying to listen.

She knew she shouldn’t let her hope run away from her.

She dug her claws into the stone and dragged them along the floor regardless, hoping against hope that they would hear.

The silence was deafening.

Maybe she had just been too lost in her own head, and because of that she simply hadn't noticed them getting further and further away. Maybe she was finally going insane, staring at the nothingness for days on end had gotten to her. Maybe she would die here and no one would ever be any the wiser and there was nothing she could do about it –.

She heard something hit the stone with a deafening clang.

And then again.

And again.

She shrunk back into the safety of the corner, quietly hoping that, whichever way the person would come from, it would be far from her corner. She would prefer not being clubbed with a pickaxe, or hit by a stray rock that had come loose while the person broke their way into her room.

For once, the whatever it was that watched over them all actually answered her pleas.

Light poked its way in on the opposite side of the cavern, faint at first, traveling through the tiniest of holes. She almost looked away – the light, as little as it was, was almost blinding after so long with nothing but sheer darkness – but she didn’t dare to, instead powering her way through the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, determined not to miss a thing. Cracks spider-webbed outwards, and it only took another few, clean hits before the hole was large enough for a person to squeeze through, if they were not too concerned about a couple of scrapes.

It seemed her saviors were, though, because they continued to chip away at the opening.

Her eyes landed on a man with a mess of curly, chestnut hair and a set of wireframe glasses perched on his nose. Not that this was what she noticed first – no, her first thought was about how tall he was, tall enough that he had to duck just slightly in the room she had always thought to be surprisingly spacious for a pocket of air in the wall. Or maybe he was just hunched over because he was coughing, perspective was weird. He had dragged the front of his turtleneck sweater up to cover his nose, trying to keep out the dust and pieces of stone kicked up by their pickaxes, but even this wasn’t enough to keep him from coughing and waving his sombrero around in hopes of batting away some of the particulates.

The man’s eyes had slid right over her. Between the dust and the fact that her dark scales helped her blend into the shadows, she was easy to miss.

Probably for the best, though. She knew reptilians were not the most cuddly things, and that many humans were put off when they might happen to see long claws or gaunt, inhuman faces.

So, she would have to change before they could see that.

Quietly, she shifted. It wasn’t a particularly fun process, having her bones contort into new shapes to match that of a human’s, to have skin stretch itself over her scales, to feel strands of hair begin to poke out from the back of her head… but at least it was quick, a change done in the split-second of a torch’s flicker.

In came another man, not as tall as the first, but extremely broad, and with a head that shone without any hair in sight. His metal arm gleamed in the light of the torch he was holding, and this did nothing to help her from thinking the man looked a little scary.

This mild, passing thought, turned into a blaring alarm when his eyes instantly locked on her.

For a moment, his face paled, and she wondered if, somehow, he had seen her in the exact moment she had shifted. That he knew. That her chances of the family she had daydreamed about for weeks on end to pass the time were already dashed. She hadn’t yet crossed the starting line!

“Wil – Wilbur, there’s a kid here,” the man said.

The first man’s eyes widened and he followed the man’s pointed finger, only to jolt in surprise when he finally noticed her.

“It looks just like me,” the tall man said, no doubt taking in the curly brown hair she had grown and the pale skin she had created to match him. “Oh, hell, it looks just like me .”

Panic jolted through her in parallel to the horror dawning across the man’s face. Had she chosen wrong?

Maybe she should risk a quick shift, hope that they would blame the change on the low torchlight? Maybe she should add a scar over the bridge of her nose to match this new man?

But they had already seen her, and she didn’t want to put them off. What if they thought she was mocking them by changing her appearance to match theirs? What if they saw the moment her features shifted, got a brief peak behind the curtain, saw the glimmering scales dancing under her false skin? What if they were disgusted?

They thought she was a human child, it was probably best that things remained that way.

She widened her eyes just slightly at the muscular man. She had waited months for this, for a chance at a family, she was not going to be left here. Not again.

It had been bad enough to be without a family, but if she was outright rejected? She really wasn't sure how she would cope. The meaning of life was love and kindness, this she knew, but if she was rejected did that mean she wasn't worthy of either of them?

“Wilbur, you’re scaring them,” the man said, hesitantly closing the distance between the two of them. He was careful, as if approaching a wild animal that he was scared would run off if he made any sudden moves. He wasn’t too far off, to be fair, not about the animal part, at least. He settled a heavy hand on her shoulder – the human hand, warm even through the thick fabric of her shirt and covered in callouses. “Hey, what’s your name?”

She hesitated, before shaking her head.

“You… don’t have one?”

She nodded that this was true. Not one that she remembered. And she would take any name, so long as they would return the favor and take her with them.

He gave a smile, hesitant and small as it was. She returned it, trying to still her heart in her chest before it got away from her again.

She was right to do so, because the man turned back to his companion (‘Wilbur’, apparently) with a grim look. “I think she’s yours.”

Wilbur shook his head rapidly. She might be offended at how vehemently against the idea of being her father he was if she wasn’t too busy feeling her heart drop like a rock into her gut.

“Fit – you – I – you know this, I can’t take care of a kid .”

“I can’t either. I’m already taking care of Ramon on my own.”

“At least you’ll be here to try. I have to leave in two weeks, Fit!”

“She looks just like you. I think this is one of those times where you have to take responsibility, Wilbur.”

They…!

They were fighting over who would not keep her.

She looked around frantically. She needed to prove herself to them! She needed to be something worth keeping. She already looked like one of them, but that wasn’t enough, so that meant it was up to her and her actual personality, so surely she was doomed.

She had been stuck in a cave for as long as she could remember, she hadn’t had much time to pick up any hobbies!

Well, she wasn’t all that good at the one she had tried, at least.

But she had to try.

She snatched up the flute she had fashioned out of a singular stick she had found in the room with her and launched into one of the songs she had learned to play in her many hours of sitting around with nothing to do. Her throat ached with every harsh exhale, and the flute was poorly made, but she still managed a few quick notes.

Wilbur’s lips quirked up at the corners. Not in amusement, not like he was laughing at her, but instead something undeniably fond. “Big fan of Usher, are you?”

She had no clue what that was! But sure! She nodded rapidly, giving him as bright of a smile as she could.

His eyes didn’t stray from her own for a few moments, the complicated expression tugging at the edges of his face never fading.

Whatever he found in her face, though, he must have liked (she would hope so, she had made it just for him), because he managed a tiny smile and held his hand out for her. Probably to help her up, but she grabbed his hand and didn’t let go.

He didn’t pull away, either.

“Well… let’s get you out of here. Can’t stay in a dusty place like this, can we?”

She glanced around the dusty place that had been her home for the past few weeks. The walls and floor were gray.

She looked at Wilbur.

She nodded once. Firmly. She would not be coming back here.

#qsmp #qsmp fanfiction #qwilbur #qsmp tallulah #qfit #wilbur soot #fitmc #when will i be free from this war #(crossposting fics)

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nge1 · 8 days ago

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horrid updates post:

(tw for csa, incest, fatphobia, abuse, cult, etc)

the phone i bought for my older brother (22y) battery swelled right before we got the sim in the mail so he could finally get a phone number and a regular job. $81 gone. haha. btw he could've gotten his own fucking phone a year or two ago but instead forced me into the position to Have to get one for him or 'noo i cant (wont) apply to jobs without one'. im so done having to mother my own abuser.

all but one of my credit cards are drained

oldest brother (29y) came over and berated everyone for two hours

mom keeps seeing me as competition for everything and anything

since none of us want to be apart of my oldest brother's cult hes not going to 'help' anymore unless we do what he says

oldest brother just drops the bomb that he has molested both me and (redacted).

oldest brother then says hes forgived himself for that. ^_^ hm. ok.

i vented out (after oldest brother left) that im so sick of my money being put down the drain bc my older brother refuses to get a number himself. so my mom got mad at me and now they both decided to go to sleep. LOL!

oldest brother would not stop saying im 'too heavy / let myself go / too fat'. im not kidding when i say he would not stop saying it.

oldest brother says (essentially) we're too godless and thats why things are working out. aka everything bad is just a lesson to put us in our place bc how dare we not think like he thinks

of course the molester wants me skinny again hes mad hes not as attracted to me. fml

oldest brother keeps saying i left my job too early bc tbh my reasons for leaving were ignored he just thinks i should've toughed it out or whatever.

oldest brother insulted my cat again and kept harping on that my kitty is liability and hes a filthy disgusting creature. 😶

mother fucking hates me and i hate her.

why the fuck is she mad i got a job at all?

mother treats me like shit. brothers treat me like shit.

im so tired of pretending its 'so funny' how fucking insane this man is. its scary, and im in a very unsafe situation. i could go missing any day. i could get molested again. hit. manipulated more. abused more. im so exhausted of this. conversion therapy (torture). he could find my accounts at anytime. i cant get help with my disabilities when hes around. i cant even exist when hes around. he's been wearing down my sanity more and more every day. there wasnt much of my sanity left. if i have to live surrounded by my abusers too much longer i Will do something drastic. thats a promise.

#⦻#comments are ok.

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beautiful-songbird · 1 year ago

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A Simple Man

Pairing: Idol!Jin x OC

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: none

Summary: Jasmine is thrilled to finally have the life of her dreams, and she and Jin reminisce on the past

It was a slow, lazy night. Jasmine was cuddled up in bed drawing sketches of her latest ideas while Jin sat at his computer playing video games. Overall, they’d found a rhythm together. They both needed alone time after a long day, Jin especially. They would both do their respective tasks while silent in a room together because they wanted space but without the actual space.

Tonight, however, Jasmine was feeling cuddly. It had been a long day, and her pregnancy was progressing to such a point that sometimes simply standing for long hours exhausted her. The little interning job she’d gotten after moving to Korea now felt like a bit of a mistake, but it did keep her occupied while Jin was at work, so she wasn’t sure whether she should regret it or feel glad she’d taken the chance.

Either way, right now she simply wanted to lay in Jin’s arms. Now that they were finally living together, she felt clingy. They’d missed out on years of physical touch simply because of time and space, and now that that was nothing to them, she wanted to make up for all that time they’d lost.

It felt almost insane to her that she was lying here right now. At fifteen, she’d dreamed up such a thing, but never in her life had she imagined it would actually happen. She and Jin had liked each other that one year he’d spent in Australia, but it had been a short and fleeting year, and neither of them had confessed their feelings to the full extent. The two of them had lost contact, and they’d both figured a reunion impossible years later when they’d considered it. Life had gone on, and they’d dated other people, but no one had really clicked the way they had with each other.

And then, through some act of God, they’d met each other again, at his concert of all places. Seventeen thousand people in that stadium, and he’d looked directly at her. It had been a long enough look for him to put together who she was, and then he’d taken the extreme leap of giving her his phone number, complete trust in the fact that she wouldn’t leak it to the public.

And now she was here, cuddled up in his bed carrying his baby. It was an anomaly how perfectly their lives had lined up to land them here, but she supposed that could be said about any couple. Either way, she was here, and she was thrilled about it.

She rolled out of bed and padded across the room, approaching Jin where he was seated in his chair. She nudged at his arm, and he lifted it as high as he could so that she could sneak under it. Once she was between his arms, she settled herself on his lap and nuzzled her head against his shoulder. It was a bit uncomfortable with his headphones still over his ears, but she wouldn’t complain. She quickly let her eyes flutter shut, relaxing happily into his arms.

He hit a button on his keyboard before nudging his headphones off his head using the shoulder that she wasn’t leaning against. He was still very much emerged in his gameplay, but he was making an effort to give her a bit of attention even as he did.

“Hi there. Long day?”

She hummed, resting her chin against his neck and nuzzling her nose against the back of his ear. It was times like this when it irritated her that he wasn’t much bigger than her. “Yes.”

He chuckled and turned his head to kiss her on the cheek. “I’m almost done with this game, ok? I’ll turn it off after this round.”

She nodded, really not minding the fact that he was gaming. She mostly just wanted to be in his arms, and she was getting that now, so if he wanted to continue his game, she didn’t really care.

It was only a few minutes later that he finished, and he turned his game off, pulling his headphones fully away from where they’d fallen at his neck so that he could put them away. Then he settled back into his chair, wrapping his arms around her and getting comfortable. He rubbed his thumb across her cheek, hooking a finger around the braid near her ear and pushing it away from her face.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?”

She smiled, eyes still closed. “Yes. You tell me all the time,” she teased.

“Am I not allowed to think my wife is pretty now?”

She let out a low laugh. “No. No pretty wife for you.”

She felt his laugh as his chest shook with it, and she grinned. He shifted his hand through her braids very carefully, mostly running them between his fingers. He’d helped her do this particular set of braids, and she could tell how proud of himself he was. He’d once told her that he wanted to learn to do her hair so that it wouldn’t be such a struggle for her, and he’d been true to his word. It would come in even more handy after their baby was born, because the chances of their baby not having her kinky hair was very small.

“Would you like to move to the bed?” he asked.

“Please, I’d love that.”

She shifted to get off of him, but before she could, he scooped her up in his arms and shifted out of the seat with ease, as if she weren’t almost his height and five months pregnant. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling in delight.

“I will never not think about that one time you picked me up like this.”

He rolled his eyes as he set her down on the bed. “You are not talking about when we were kids.”

“I am,” she grinned.

He waved his hand as if to dismiss the memory she’d just unearthed. “We don’t talk about that, remember?”

“Oh, but we do,” she nodded.

He groaned as he flopped down next to her in bed. “No.”

“But it’s funny,” she whined. “You were so confident.”

“Yes, and wrongly so.”

It had been one of the days the two of them had gone to the beach. She’d been squealing about the fish swimming around her feet as she always did, and he’d bent down to scoop her into his arms, confident that he’d be able to support her weight. It hadn’t seemed to occur to him how much an adult-sized girl would weigh, and the two of them had instantly tumbled into the shallow waters at their feet, only eliciting more squeaks from her as she tried to get away from the tiny minnows that now swam all around her body.

“Everything about that was embarrassing,” he grumbled. “I tried to pick up the girl I liked, and I wasn’t strong enough to.”

“Well, having the guy I liked try to pick me up was thrilling, even if I did immediately get attacked by a bunch of fish upon your failure. I thought about that day for years after you left. I wanted you to hold me like that again.”

He smiled shyly. “Really?”

“Yeah! We barely touched like that. It was the one solid memory I had of your touch.”

“Well…” he flexed his bicep. “Now I’ve gotten nice and strong so that I actually can pick you up.”

“I think you’re a bit too strong now,” she responded, squeezing his arm. “I think you could deadlift me now.”

He grinned. “Would you like to test that theory?”

She poked him in the armpit. “Not while I’m pregnant, no. I’m not confident enough in my hypothesis.”

“Wow.” He mocked offense, but the grin on his face gave him away. “How dare you.”

“You want a healthy baby, don’t you?”

He sighed. “Yes….” He threw his arm over her waist, pulling her up against him. “I suppose this will have to do for now.”

“Is that so bad?” she teased.

“That depends…” he leaned forward to kiss her, and she met him in the middle, pressing her lips against his happily.

“You’re silly,” she teased.

“I am a simple man. I want kisses and to carry my wife around.”

“Simple, eh? Yes, you’re so simple.”

This is part of the Dad!BTS series that can be found here

A/N: I missed Jin and Jasmine, and after a YEAR AND A HALF they return (I barely know them and I wanted to get to know them as a couple better so here's this) also apparently we're in a zone right now because this takes place literally right before Stupid, Crazy in Love with You which I just wrote...?

It would be greatly appreciated if you reblogged the story if you liked it!

Taglist: @jiminie-and-his-pinky-finger @jinnie-forthe-winnie @thornedswan @fly-you-dam-fools

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