#lindsay ford x you
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: ÌÌâ Modern TWOW Kids Headcanons
â°â†Neteyam
High school junior - 17 years old
Captain of both varsity basketball and soccer
4.1 GPA, working towards Stanford
Often spends time in the library
Reads classical literature
Played Romeo in their school production of R&J
Has his licence and drives a ford
Models for small black owned fashion brands for a little extra cash
Runs Tuk's Etsy were she sells bracelets
Collect Records - R&B and Rap
Headphones > Speakers
Introverted but Extroverted around his friends and sports teams
Teacher's pet - carries the whole class. Answers when no one else does
Often gets into fights with Ao'nung because Ao'nung wants to be captain of the basketball team
Drives Tuk to school and extracurricular activities
Love to cook, in the kitchen almost every night with Neytiri
Not that close to Jake, he craves Neytiri's approval more than his
Nose, industrial, and multiple cartilage piercings
Plays violin
Has been growing his dreads since he was 7, but they don't look bad bc he keeps up with them
â°â†Lo'ak
sophomore - 16 years old
JV Football and Basketball
2.3 GPA, Lo'ak isn't dumb, he just doesn't try
Made a music video to his rap for film class and it got a B-
Facetimed Reya right after he got his grade, he was really proud of himself
Skateboards to school and practices but Neteyam drives him home
Collects 90s/00s rap CD's - eminem, tupac, biggie, etc.
Talks back to the teacher, kind of a class clown
Wants to join the Marines like Jake
Worked as a cashier at the movie theater to buy him and Reya tickets to the Eras tour. He didn't know all the words to the songs but he tried.
Is outside from the time he comes home 6:30 to 11:00 at night shooting hoops bc he really wants to be on varsity basketball with Neteyam
Always has his airpods in
Records his raps in his bathroom bc it has good acoustics
Closer to Kiri than the rest of his siblings
They all has their own rooms but he is always in Kiri's for some reason
Taper fade with braids
Besties with Rotxo, he talks to him about things he can't with other people
Wants a tattoo so bad, but Jake says "You can get one once you paid your own rent"
Has an Ig with 134K followers
â°â†Kiri
Sophomore
Crochets her clothes
Thrifts or depop clothes only, doesn't believe in fast fashion
Low-key in her Kat Stratford era
Plays piano and bass
Has an all girl band - boygenius is her idols
Loves anime and K-pop - has her Bias as her laptop wallpaper
Anti-plastic, only uses her hydroflask - hates stanleys bc "consumerism has America in a chokehold"
Photographer for the school's digital newspaper
Wears dangle mushroom earrings everyday
Has a wolfcut and red hair
She has natural freckles but they are barely there so she draws them on with a brown eyeliner pencil
She's in theater club and is the composer of all the musicals
Dance moms is her guilty pleasure
Very much vegan and will give someone the stink eye if they eat meat next to her
works at a crystal shop and will geek out anytime a rookie collector ask her what a specific crystal is for
has a septum piercing
Super introverted her only friends are Reya and Rotxo
Always challenging her teachers
Her only social medias are Twitter (X), tumblr, and tiktok
Loves Taylor Swift and Minski
Watches french films and reads french books
Closer to Jake but Neytiri is her go to girl when she needs to talk
Her phone background is Grace and her when she was 3, it was taken 3 months before Grace died
Hates sports, doesn't understand why people are going crazy over football recently
Her walls are covered with posters
Low-key loves all of Lindsay Lohan's movies - she's her celb crush
â°â†Ao'nung
Same year and age as Neteyam
I feel like his family is rich
Drives a benz
going to uop on a basketball scholarship
6'3 1/2 - got his dad's height
Super protective of Tsireya
On the debate team, he loves arguing
If he's not playing basketball, hes surfing, if hes not doing that he's studying
Posts him playing basketball on his tiktok and ig, hoping one day he'll get noticed by a scout, thousands of people repost his videos
Has every pair of Jordans known to man
crosses people over in the hallway
I feel like he bullies freshman boys but sticks up for the freshman girls bc he sees them as his little sisters
Ronal is the principal so he get's good food at lunch
always late to class but has amazing grades
introverted extrovert
teaches basketball to kids at the community center
Throws the best parties
brings speakers to school
Frenemies with Neteyam and Lo'ak
Of all the Sullys, Kiri is his favorite
â°â†Tsireya
Sophomore - 15 years
Post GRWMs on tiktok
Tennis and volleyball
Starting ballet this year
skincare and makeup obsessed
wears her mary janes everyday
super coquette / coastal grandmother
team conrad
Loves Taylor Swift and Lana Del Rey
Priscilla, Marie Antoinette, Belle, Girl Interrupted, Black Swan are her favorite movies
Wears the friendship bracelets that Kiri and Tuk make her
Watches Vouge Beauty Secrets when she gets ready
Her favorite youtuber is Sabrina Lilliane
Thrifts with Kiri
Has a baby pink Stanley and wears ugg slippers
On the school dance team
Has a Jeep but can't drive it yet so she rides with Ao'nung
Carries K-pop Idol photo cards
4.0 GPA, she doesn't play about her grades
Often helps Lo'ak with school
Reads poetry books
Researching to start her own haircare line with the help of Neytiri
Doesn't wear a backpack only tote bags
If she doesn't have starbucks every morning then she'll be cranky all day
Always wears a locket that has her parent's pictures in it
Is the star of all the musicals
Sophomore year class president
Did the best petting zoo fundraiser
â°â†Rotxo
Junior
Head of the school paper
doesn't play sports
The smiths are the only people he listen's to
works at a record shop
volunteers at a soup kitchen
4.2 GPA going to Harvard Med
OCD
Wants to be a surgeon
Manages Ao'nung social media accounts
Introverted, hates large crowds
Drives Kiri to thrift stores, they're besties
â°â†Tuk
3rd grade - 8 years old
Sells friendship bracelets
Went to the eras tour with jake, had a big sign that said "Give her her scarf back, now"
She traded bracelets with a bunch of people
Did ballet for a while and hated it so now she does gymnastics
Spa days with Neteyam
in her "only eating chicken nuggets and craft mac and cheese" phase
loves to rollerblade
Has an unboxing channel on youtube
always making slime
doesn't have any electronics bc Jake and Neytiri doesn't want her to be an Ipad kid
Tuk is really popular on youtube but she doesn't know it
Loves Reya like another sister
Takes horseback riding lessons
â°â†Spider
Doesn't go to Pandora High like the rest, he goes to an athletic boarding school on a lacrosse scholarship
Was really close to the sullys but since his school has a no phone rule they've grown apart
Still hangout on the weekends and in the summer
no doubt he's going pro
Grew up around military vets
cut his dreads off once he got to school
takes archery as an extra class
really good at math
The sullys send him care packages full of junk food
He sleeps over at the sullys on the weekends bc he would rather not be with his dad
Still really close to Kiri but not as close to Lo'ak as they used to be
Loves the MCU and goes to the theaters when the movies come out even if they are bad
Thank you for reading <3
#avatar the way of water#avatar twow#avatar#fanfic#jake sully#loak sully#loak x reader#neteyam sully#neteyam x human reader#avatar 2 x reader#lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan#lo'ak sully#lo'ak x reader#lo'ak avatar#atwow#neteyam#avatar james cameron#tsireya#ao'nung x reader#ao'nung x you#ao'nung x y/n#ao'nung x fem!reader#kiri sully#kiri avatar#ronal avatar#ronal x reader#ronal x tonowari#ronal x you#avatar 2#tonowari
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Lies
A/N: Hiiiiii you guys đ€ So I donât intend to be *back* on tumblr actively the way I used to be, but this mofo Lin is inspiring the shit out of me, I just adoooore him, so of course I have to write a lil fic for him âš Iâm not tagging my tag list or anything, just dropping this out in the world lol. Much love to you all! â€ïž
Pairing: Lin Ford x F!Reader Warnings: smut (p in v, face-fucking), some plot (but no spoilers for book or show), brief ref to blood (not readerâs or Linâs tho), swearing, smoking, fluffity fluffinâ fluff, and sorry I canât shake off the old habit of my clownass poet stuff đ€Ą Word Count: ~5.2k
âYouâll probably write all this into a great big book someday. Like a love letter to Bombay.â
His blue eyes lift, from where he sits half-naked smoking a half-finished cigarette, out on the balcony of your apartment. Blink once and then lower again as he takes in the words you say.
Four stories down, the city hums to the calm rhythm of late evening: car horns honking just every so often rather than the afternoon constant, the soft croon of love songs, the closing of storefronts, handcarts plodding slowly towards home. The setting sun warms his bare skin as he leans back against the rail, casting in gold the whorls of metalwork that seem to him so frail because they arenât caging him in and everything he lives and dreams is always relative to that dark place heâs been.
Almost everything at least. The almost is how he convinces himself that heâs free.
Lin cracks a half-smile and quits his cigarette although it isnât finished yet. Joins you inside, leaves the door open to the balconyâopen as you and he both like the door to be. Crosses the tiny room then stops to stand with the back pockets of his jeans pressed up against your desk, facing you where youâre half-reclining in your bed. âWhat makes you say that?â
Thoughts start drifting then because youâre such a mess. Drifting to how heâs fucked you up against that desk. And in this bed obviously. Out on that balcony, once in the middle of the night for all the stars above to see. So many times heâs fucked you right out of your head and in this moment those blue eyes are fucking you out of your body.
Makes you feel so fucking free.
âItâs something in the eyes,â you answer him, realizing in this instant that itâs how you know he writes. âItâs like⊠you donât just look at things, or into them, or through them.â
Lin quirks up his brows and smirks a little bit, biting his bottom lip. âWhat do I do then?â
âIâm not sure if thereâs a word for it. But I bet you would find the word, if it exists.â
âOr fake it if it doesnât. Because fuck it. Thatâs half of what writing is.â
âLies?â you laugh.
âYeah and not even halfâall words are lies, you know? Theyâre just so small. Words try to capture shit thatâs honestly so big and sometimes infinite. The worst thing a writer can do is believe heâs succeeded.â
You wonder for a minute just how permanently stoned he is, from one too many visits with that godfather-philosopher of his. âSo I was rightâyou do write? Even despite thinking youâre doomed to fail?â
His shrug tells you maybe because of it. Maybe failure has found its home deep in his bones and heâs drawn to whatever results in it.
Then he picks up his unbuttoned shirt from the chair where heâd tossed it some hours ago and digs into his pockets. He shows you the notes that heâs scrawled on spare napkins and looseleaf scraps over these past several months, which you both know heâs bound to stitch into a novel. You read them and canât help but smile, and he looksâlooks in that way of his you canât describe at all. Thinks to himself that smile would burn the goddamn pages if he ever tried to write it in a book.
It almost makes him want to try, but thatâs the part of him thatâs drawn to what feels wrong. The part he used to think was strong. The part that heâs constantly fighting to deny.
âItâs lovely. All of it, honestly,â you praise his work as you tuck all the papers back into his pockets, relieved to have found that he wrote not so much about people heâd met; rather, these notes are focused on places and concepts. But the finished book is sure to feature characters, so you need him to make you a promise. âJust promise me something?â
You join him where he lies in bed, his sun-gold hair bright even deep in the night, halo upon his heavy head. At the sight itâs easy to forget that the sun past the window has set. Heâs becoming your sun and a lot more than that, but youâre not sure if he knows it yet.
Then whisper your request, propping your chin against his chest and searching those infinite eyes for words that wonât ever exist. âJust⊠promise you wonât write me into it. Please?â
He wonât ask why. Any reply would be a lie.
Just nods, although itâs soft and weak, and itâs a promise that heâll keep. He wonât write you into a single line, the string of lies that truth-seekers and soul-searchers the world over might someday call a literary masterpiece. You know more deeply than the aching love he makes tonight that he wonât write you into it. Not in words at least.
***************
The first time you lay eyes on Lindsay Ford you know right there and then youâd like to lay a lot more than your eyes on him.
He has wanted man written all over him. Even for a gora, as they call him, he sticks out like a sore thumb. Wanted in far more ways than one. A man worth wanting as a friend, or as a loverâmaybe as a business partner or a customerâand then of course for some, a man whoâs criminally wanted just in terms of what heâs running from.
On this fine day you catch a glimpse amidst the crowd of sandy hair swept back and gathered in a bun. Slung over one of his broad shoulders is a heavy bag that probably holds his every life possession. Through the pale cloth of his shirt his sweat is visible because no doubt the Bombay heat beats down even more brutally upon someone whoâs always on the run.
Youâre in no need of that distraction. So you tear your eyes away from him and go about your day. Later that afternoon fate throws his fine ass straight back at you anyway.
Now as you see him ambling absentmindedly along the road the fucker is about to get run over by a car, yet you canât stop it from this distanceâyouâre too far. Someone else steps forward that instant, as you stare: a woman dressed in white with ravishing dark hair. Even from here you can just tell that sheâs the type who would inspire countless writers to craft characters like her because sheâs so much more remarkable than everything you are.
And sure enough this woman makes a mark on Lin; his gaze lights up as if he thinks heâs in the presence of an angel or a fallen fucking star.
Quite clearly smitten and already dreaming up the pretty lines that his poetic heart insists on being written.
So you take one last long look and then head home. You donât belong in this manâs life because youâre not a fucking poem.
***************
Itâs been weeks since that day. Out of sight, out of mind is a thing people say. Itâs a lie. Heâs inside your mindâs eye.
Your local chai shop is your favorite place to watch neighbors and strangers strolling by. You try to focus on their faces but you keep seeing his traces like the blue of the noon sky, not quite as blue as you might dream his gaze to be, though from the distance that had been in between you and him you couldnât clearly see. Surely youâre better off that way because to have him anywhere in close proximity youâd probably fucking die.
You shut your eyes just for a second and envelop all your senses in the warm sweet spices wafting from your half-full cup of chai.
And when you open them he suddenly is all that you can see.
All you can hear as he asks if the fully empty seat across from you is free.
Heâs standing here so fucking near and really really shouldnât be.
You smile a silent yes, too stunned out of your wits to fucking speak. Too mesmerized at how his sweat glistens so brightly on the smooth skin of his neck down to the upper part of his half-exposed chest. Sweat has no business glistening like this and making you so weak.
Itâs a small shop; of course the seat across from you had been the only open seat. And yet he didnât have to stop. The chai in any other place wouldâve been just as hot and sweet.
The thing is that he didnât come here for the tea.
Having stared down at yours too long, biting your tongue, you glance up at him nervously.
He clearly sees your nerves but sees them in a way that makes them slowly start to fade. Something about his bay-blue gaze smoothes out the ends where theyâre all frayed.
âIâm Lindsay by the way,â he takes the chance to say. âOr Lin for short. And yes I know the Hindi meaning of the word.â
The tongue-in-cheek response that slips off of your lips is far more forward than youâd ever have expected of yourself but so it goes. You wouldnât say this to a man with a short penis but heâs far from such a man and you donât doubt it. âWell then I suppose⊠you ought to know thereâs nothing âshortâ about it.â
Thus your thing with Lin begins.
And from that moment some small part of you already lives in fear of how it ends.
All afternoon the two of you talk over fresh roti and frothy cups of tea. Youâre thinking more than half the time of just how good his lin would feel deep in your pussy.
Conversation flows so smoothly till it goes in the direction of a subject that you wouldnât share so openly in any other circumstanceâfor several reasons your best practice is to keep this fact about yourself a secret or to lie whenever given half the chance. âMy father works for the Australian embassy.â
You donât tell him just what your father does exactly. Or what you do. But those words just hit him badly. Maybe lying wouldâve been the better play for you, yet something when youâre with this man compels you to be just a little bit closer to true.
Even if it costs you the hope of knowing him and the loss burns you fucking brutally.
The ghastly pale shade that just fell across his face somehow still suits him fucking beautifully. Then again anything would; he canât look anything but good. In any case you donât ask questions that a wanted man could never answer truthfully. You just muse aloud ruefully. âI guess this means that youâd be better off not having anything to do with me.â
âYeah, I would,â he says in a nervous half-laugh. Dead serious despite being amused at fateâs cruel joke so thatâs what cuts the laugh in half. âI really would be.â
In that moment you can see so fucking clearly that the one thing this man needs most desperately in all the world is to be free. Like, fully free. If any man can ever be. Youâre caught up in a life that threatens that for him; youâre bad for him. Look up at him and beg him silentlyâthen just be done with me.
What you donât know is that he sees the sweetest fucking kind of freedom in your eyes. Heâs lost his appetite for chai and so he lies. âThe thing is that Iâm not done with this tea.â
***************
The first time you lay hands on Lindsay Ford you know right there and then that youâd lay down your life for him.
Thereâve been so many cups of tea between the two of you in these past weeks, before you ever touch. A playful punch perhaps against his shirt-clad bicep in the chai shop when he cracks a joke that hits home just a little bit too much. The distant closeness of hello kisses on either cheek, and goodbye hugs and such.
But when your hands meet his bare skin, when heâs standing in front of you here in your room and tells himself heâs finally man enough to let you in⊠thatâs when you know the way you truly feel for Lin.
Your eyes donât linger on the color of the scars that streak his body since youâve always been more focused on the wounds deeper within. The wounds that heal a little every day he spends with you and finds new hope of freedom from the prison of his sin.
The problem is heâs been conditioned to consider the escape itself a crime.
With whole truths and half-lies, youâre always finding new and better ways to reassure him otherwise. Tonight you place your palm softly against the skin above his heart as you gaze up into his eyes. âHas it been⊠a long time?â
Since heâs been with a woman? Since heâs felt anything other than alone?
Either way the answer is the same. Itâs been so long. So fucking long.
âNo,â he lies. Without shame. Knowing full well his body will tell you the truth even harder than it would have otherwise. Fuck you the better to spite his false tongue.
Yet his tongue sure as fuck doesnât taste false to you. When you lean in to press your lips to his half-parted, first kiss fully open-hearted⊠when the kiss deepens and you can feel the wet heat of his tongue upon your own, making you moan as if for all your life till now youâd been alone⊠it tastes like nothing else you ever fucking knew.
There are no words for how it tastes or what it does to you. But you can tell from this first kiss he wonât let any of his self-hate claw its way through, cast its shadow on the way that he makes love to you.
He lays you down upon your bed, one hand cradling your head, the fingers of the other twined in yours. A soft smile plays about those lips that you just kissed, as if to ask whether a man like him should be allowed to feel such fucking bliss. He asks the universe. It answers, without words. Of fucking course.
Those smiling lips move down your neck and to the skin around your ear; your free hand tangles in the spun gold of his hair to hold him near. And fuck youâve never smiled so much during sex or during anything. Itâs fucking wild how much happiness you get from just the rhythm of his breathing. Itâs the only sound you ever want to hear.
You hope those bright blonde bristles on his upper lip and chin will mark you up with rosy little burns across your tender skin. The scrape of them when heâs working his starved mouth on your tits feels like it has to be a sin. He leaves your nipples so damn stiff, that when he shifts, so he can kiss your gasping lips again and then your spit-slick chest rubs against his, you may have come undone already just like this, when the real fucking sex still has yet to begin.
And when it does youâre fucked in far more ways than one. Lin brings a whole other dimension to the meaning of undone.
You want this man to make sweet love to you tonight but also fuck you fucking filthy.
First thing you feel is the length of it when it finally springs free. The girth and weight and fucking strength of it just from the glossy tip pressed up against your pussy lips have seriously knocked you dizzy.
Pretty sure that shit wonât fit. But youâll split all your insides open till youâre literally nothing but a hole for it.
Lin of course has other ideas though, for just how the night will go. Intense and passionate yet slow. He wants to ravage you for sure, and fuck you like a whore, but only in the ways that make you whole for it.
He doesnât tell you that in words but still you know. Thereâs so much freedom in your eyes when he drives home between your thighs, and unlike all the other kinds of freedom built on fucking lies⊠this one is true and he wonât even have to sell his soul for it.
***************
Whenever you go down on Lin, itâs⊠itâs the closest thing that youâve ever experienced to what infinite is.
Itâs like the full scale of the universe collapses into mere inches and minutes.
Nothing mere about this thoughânot here when youâre gaping your throat to take his massive cock as deep as it will go. When your hands grasp onto the firm globes of his ass as if for dear life just to pull him ever closer while you suck and slurp and swallow. When your wide eyes glow with rapture as you thirst after his load until it has to fucking blow. You want this now and every day and night for all your life to follow.
These past days and nights youâve tasted every inch of him till each became a mile. All the traces of self-hatred in the creases on that perfect fucking face of his that fade a little farther every time you make him smile.
And the sweat that you had seenâglistening on his neck that day when he first met you over chai and mesmerized you with that goddamn gorgeous sheenâyou know now it tastes even better than it looks from all the nights youâve licked him clean. The salt of sweat and tears and all of his regrets through all the years and then the bitter and the sweet of his release when youâre beneath him on your knees feed you so full it feels obscene.
Sometimes he fucks your filthy face because you begged him for it once. He goes all out and pounds your mouth like itâs a sloppy little cunt. He groans and grunts and grabs a firm hold of your skull and plows harder into your hole with every perfect push and pull until he pumps you full of everything your soul could ever want.
Release hits different for a man whoâs on the run and it tastes different too. Takes on the taste of what itâs running to. He frees himself a little more, each time he pours himself into his dirty little whore. Tastes fresh as dew and real and true. And the one thing that he is most desperately longing to be free to do⊠is feel something for you. So long as he remains a prisoner of his own inner war, he canât be free to feel this deep shit thatâs already shaken him down to his core.
Till then heâll just keep running to it. Maybe this shit ran him over from the day you met before he even knew it. Still he runs because for once he has something worth running for.
***************
âI win because I said it first.â
Lin waggles his adorably disheveled head, hair straggled from the several hours he just spent wrecking the bed, as he declares his little victory and keeps insisting on it while you laugh until it hurts.
Youâre set to burst. The motherfucker wonât stop tickling your sides till tears are falling from your eyes.
âBut theyâre just words! All words are liesâŠ!â you playfully clap back at him and slap one of his thighs.
He finally stops tickling you, settling down snuggled up sweetly in his bed so he can tease you with a cheeky little coo. âThat means those words were a lie too. So if that statement was a lie then at least some words must be true.â
âI am not going to philosophize with you.â
At that he laughs and lands a kiss upon the corner of your pout, wagging his head again and sticking his tongue out. âThatâs what a sore loser would say.â
This wicked bastard is dead set on getting you to say touchĂ©, but you wonât let him win today. âWords are just words. I loved you first. Iâve told you that I fucking loved you from the day your fine ass landed in Bombay.â
âNo, you just told me that you saw me and already knew someday you had to have my cock inside of you.â
âSo, just a very classy way to say I love you.â
âOh, so classyâŠâ he lets out another laugh and itâs so free and full of all the stars strung out across the galaxy, flung out much farther than the eye can see. Holds far more fire than the sun rising above you.
I love you.
Sun shines the same regardless of who said it first. Words are just words. And itâs a good thing they were spoken on this day, because tomorrow all the hands of fate at work here in Bombay⊠are set to do their fucking worst.
***************
His name is Lindsay Ford.
His name is Lin because thatâs how you came to know him and to love him though some part of you had known deep down the name was probably fake. Made no mistake. Yet even so it was an instinct you ignored. For after all a name is just another word.
All words are lies.
You shut your eyes. Replay the treachery that your close colleague in the embassy risked his life to record. Of all the words in all the world these were the worst youâd ever heard.
Your father sits across from you and folds his hands, as the recording carries on. That snakelike voice had been his second in command. He knows by now the throat from which it sounds was slit just before dawn.
Not the first snake youâd ever slaughtered.
âThe boss doesnât know that the bastard heâs afterââ at this he canât help but erupt into laughter: âheâs fucking the bossâs daughter.â
The boss clenches his jaw. As if for anyone to fuck you has to be against the law.
âItâs him, I know itâs him. I passed right by him once some months ago when I had business in that shithole Pentridge Prison. Itâs the same damn face I saw.â
âWeâll if youâre certain, then weâll justââ
âNo, listen, listen: heâs too⊠valuable to simply arrest.â
This had been how the conversation went, between the traitor and your trusted friend: the friend who had recorded it, so that he could report it. While the snake spoke he just listened, and replied only enough to act as if he was on board with it. The snake thought heâd convince him in the end.
âThis is an advantageous man. Heâs an escaped convict with some steep fucking price on him; our boss and everybody at the embassy and the Aussie authorities, okay, and some of the local police, and all the underbelly enemies this motherfucker made here in Bombay, all of them want himâand on top of all of this apparently heâs worth something to Abdel Khader Fucking Khan.â
âSo what do you propose we do?â
âIf itâs so obvious to me, it should be obvious to you. We do him dirty. And the bossâs pretty little daughter too. Theyâre valuable to each other, and to others; most importantly heâs worth something to Khader. And the slut is worth a whole lot to her father. Weâll work undercoverâboss wonât have a clue that weâre the ones who got her. You know the big fat Bombay racket of ransom and blackmail and threats. Weâll just crack it and win at whatever the fuck we can get.â
Eventually your father has heard enough. If you hadnât already shown him proof of death heâd be paying a personal visit to this piece of shit to rip his head clean off.
After a few moments of silence, he studies your face to assess how affected you were by the kill. Your heartâs still too young to have gone numb to cold-blooded violence. The murder was righteous and leaves you no guilt, but itâll be a while longer before you get over the blood that youâve spilled.
Your father offers you a tissueâthough your eyes are dry itâs just a natural habit that he has with you, when youâre working through issuesâand pours you a glass of tea. âDid you take care of it yourself so that Iâd grant the favor youâre about to ask of me?â
He asks lightheartedly, half-jokingly thanks to how well he knows you, and it is partially true. You know him well too. And you know just what his answer has to be.
Once years ago, he had entreated you to promise him youâd leave this life behind before you ran the risk of falling in too deep. You hadnât made the promise though; you werenât sure whether it was one that you could keep. You took the leap, and now youâve fallen in as deep as you could go. Your father knew the choice was yours but he had never wanted you to be a part of this corrupt embassy caught up in the crime that cuts across this sweeping city where the price is always steep, especially when it feels cheap.
Yet in Bombay this is the only kind of life youâve ever known, and this infinite living breathing poem of a city is your home. Where you were born and raised and loved and lived a life thatâs full and free and all your own. There is no other place on earth youâd rather roam.
You couldnât make the promise to your father then but now the time has come.
Heâll make a vow, right here and nowâagainst all reason and all sense because he knows you need this desperatelyâto let the man called Lindsay Ford live and be free, as if the embassy had never learned of his identity.
Heâll make that promise if you make yours. And you will of course. Not in the spirit of some sort of quid pro quo, and not because you feel in any way pressured or forced; itâs just the way shit has to go. The unintelligible order of the universe. Your father loves you and he canât live with himself if he grants clemency to such a wanted manâa dangerous man, one all the wrong kinds of people would find an advantageous manâknowing that your life is entwined with Linâs and then⊠and then another snake happens. Or worse. The blood thatâs spilled next time could very well be yours. Love comes with fear and thatâs its curse.
For all your life from this day forth youâll live in fear for Lindsay Ford: fear that his past caught up to him at last and got him killed or captured.
On this day, youâll do your part to make that tragedy less likely, even if only just slightly, once you finally depart Bombay⊠but youâll be powerless against whatever comes after.
You wonât be here. Youâll be off someplace faraway with a heart full of love and fear. Far more of each than youâd have thought you could afford.
With a heart full of Lindsay Ford.
***************
You tell him the whole truth because he deserves nothing less, and because he would fuck it right out of you anyway if you had tried. Taste it off of your lips and trace it through the cloth of your dress, through the skin that it sheathes, and through everything deeper beneath. Take the truth from the places he reaches inside. When he makes love to you this last time he knows you never lied.
He can only be free if you free yourself of him. The two of you canât run awayâthe promise you had made to your father today isnât just that youâre leaving Bombay. He had asked you to promise to steer clear of Lin because otherwise youâll end up dead on account of how fiercely you love him.
In any other circumstances, you would have taken your chancesâand your father would have blessed itâitâs your choice after all whom to love and die for. And yet it was your fatherâs choice whether or not to grant the illegal and potentially lethal favor youâd requested. He granted it only on the condition that your life wouldnât be more at risk if he did; that was the peace of mind that he rightfully needed, and why wasnât hard to decipher.
And so⊠this is just how it goes. Your head fights it a bit though. Your heart somehow knows.
Lin resists it at first; you had figured he would. His head looks like itâs going to burst. Tries to figure out some way to hold onto you for reasons that are honest and good, or at least that arenât selfish and wrong. But until he met you he had been nothing other than selfish and wrong for so long. So damn longâŠ
He realizes tonight more than ever before, that he isnât that man anymore. That heâs no longer locked in the prison of his inner war.
For now all you can do, is just love him through one last release, into you, and then maybe heâll finally have peace, to let you go without losing sight of the love for which his heart still beats thatâs still worth running for. And still will be long after youâve gone out the door.
Even after it closes, the doors to both his heart and yours will be open because of this love and he knows this. Open as you and he both like the door to be. Love set him free.
He lets you go knowing that every time he wakes to the sunrise itâs you heâll see.
Someday youâll see his great big book up on a shelf, and smile to yourself. Knowing that heâs alive and well then youâll no longer be afraid. Before you left you had reminded him to keep the little promise he had made.
He will. Lin isnât one to make a promise he can only half-fulfill.
But youâll be there through all the dark and all the lightâbetween and behind and inside every line that heâll write. The sun itself shines just as bright in day or night. Survives the shifting of the skies. Half the world watches as it dies, the other half watches it rise. The whole of it is fire that no man could ever kill. That was the kind of wholeness he would find when he sought freedom in your eyes. And holds it still. Freedom to love until his heart has had its fill.
He wonât write you into his book, but youâll be there to see for anyone who dares to really look.
Whether or not all words are lies, no matter what they can still mean things that are true⊠or fucking try to.
So he tries. And all the while, with a full heart and a whole smile, he writes for you.
***************
Much love and I hope you enjoyed this! đ
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Todos os filmes em que as cenas de sexo foram para valer
A Bula reuniu em uma lista todos os filmes da histĂłria do cinema nos quais os atores se envolvem em atos sexuais reais, nĂŁo simulados. A diferença entre esses longas e a pornografia Ă© que, embora possam ser considerados erĂłticos, a trama deles nĂŁo Ă© meramente pornogrĂĄfica. Ao todo, a lista conta com 264 tĂtulos.
A Bula reuniu em uma lista todos os filmes da histĂłria do cinema nos quais os atores se envolvem em atos sexuais reais, nĂŁo simulados. Nos Estados Unidos, esse tipo de cena era proibido no cinema convencional, mas a partir dos Anos 1960 os cineastas começaram a ultrapassar os limites. A diferença entre esses longas e a pornografia Ă© que, embora possam ser considerados erĂłticos, a trama deles nĂŁo Ă© meramente pornogrĂĄfica. A maioria deles foi lançada nos anos 1970 e 80, com predominĂąncia de dois diretores: o espanhol JesĂșs Franco e o italiano Joe DâAmato. Por repetidas vezes, tambĂ©m aparecem os nomes de cineastas consagrados atualmente, como Lars von Trier, Gaspar NoĂ© e Yorgos Lanthimos.
1 â Gift (1966), Knud Leif Thomsen
2 â They Call Us Misfits (1968), Stefan Jarl
3 â F*uck (1969), Andy Warhol
4 â 99 Mulheres (1969), Stefen Thrower
5 â Double Face (1969), Riccardo Freda
6 â Quiet Days in Clichy (1970), Jens JĂžrgen Thorsen
7 â Groupie Girl (1970), Drek Ford
8 â The Deviates (1970), Eduardo Cemano
9 â Bacchanale (1970), John Amero
10 â Kama Sutra â71 (1970), Raj Devi
11 â Cry Uncle! (1971), John G. Avildsen
12 â Slaughter Hotel (1971), Fernando Di Leo
13 â Uma Lagartixa num Corpo de Mulher (1971), Lucio Fulci
14 â Luminous Procuress (1971), Steven F. Arnold
15 â Secret Rites (1971), Drek Ford
16 âA Clockwork Blue (1972), Eric Jeffrey Haims
17 â Pink Flamingos (1972), John Waters
18 â Who Killed the Prosecutor and Why? (1972), Giuseppe Vari
19 â La VeritĂ Secondo Satana (1972), Ronato Polselli
20 â So Sweet, So Dead (1972), Rose et Val
21 â The Red Headed Corpse (1972), Renzo Russo
22 â Commuter Husbands (1972), Derek Ford
23 â Delirium (1972), Renato Polselli
24 â Christina, the Devil Nun (1972), Sergio Bergonzelli
25 â Danish Pastries (1973), Finn Karlsson
26 â Ingrid the Streetwalker (1973), Brunello Rondi
27 â Thriller â Um Filme Cruel (1973), Bo Arne Vibenius
28 â Revelations of a Psychiatrist on the World of Sexual Perversion (1973), Renato Polselli
29 â A Scream in the Streets (1973), Carl Monson
30 â The Devil In Miss Jones (1973), Gerard Damiano
31 â Fleshpot on 42nd Street (1973), Andy Milligan
32 â The Other Side of the Mirror (1973), Jess Franco
33 â Diary of a Nynphomaniac (1973), JesĂșs Franco
34 â A Virgem e os Mortos (1973), JesĂșs Franco
35 â O Reduto dos Monstros (1973), Vidal Raski
36 â The Devilâs Plaything (1973), Joseph W. Sarno
37 â Anita (1973), Torgny Wickman
38 â The Sex Thief (1973), Martin Campbell
39 â The Porn Brokers (1973), John Lindsay
40 â Emmanuelle (1974), Just Jaeckin
41 â The Eerie Midnight Horror Show (1974), Mario Gariazzo
42 â Zelda (1974), Alberto Cavallone
43 â I Tyrens Tegn (1974), Werner Hedman
44 â Score (1974), Radley Metzger
45 â Riot on a Womenâs Prison (1974), Brunello Rondi
46 â The Girls of Kamare (1974), RenĂ© ViĂ©net
47 â La Bonzesse (1974), François Jouffa
48 â Sweet Movie (1974), DuĆĄan Makavejev
49 â Fiossie (1974), Marie Forsa
50 â Contos Imorais (1974), Walerian Borowczyk
51 â Lorna: O Exorcista (1974), JesĂșs Franco
52 â Countess Perverse (1974), JesĂșs Franco
53 â Carnal Revenge (1974), Alfredo Rizzo
54 â Keep It Up, Jack! (1974), Derek Ford
55 â The Hot Girls (1974), John Lindsay
56 â Voodoo Sexy (1974), Osvaldo Civirani
57 â Nude for Satan (1974), Luigi Batzella
58 â In the Sign of the Gemini (1974), Werner Hadman
59 â Come To My Bedside (1975), John Hillbard
60 â The Image (1975), Radley Metzger
61 â NĂșmero Dois (1975), Jean-Luc Godard
62 â The Teenage Prostitution Racket (1975), Carlo Lizzani
63 â Emanuelle Nera (1975), Bitto Albertini
64 â Emanuelleâs Revenge (1975), Joe DâAmato
65 â Felicia (1975), Max PĂ©cas
66 â But Who Raped Linda? (1975), JesĂșs Franco
67 â A Maldição da Vampira (1975), JesĂșs Franco
68 â Les Chatouilleuses (1975), JesĂșs Franco
69 â LâĂventreur de Notre-Dame (1975), JesĂșs Franco
70 â Justine e Juliette (1975), Mac Ahlberg
71 â The Bloodsucker Leads the Dance (1975), Alfredo Rizzo
72 â LĂĄbios de Sangue (1975), Jean Rollin
73 â RĂȘves Pornos (1975), Max PĂ©cas
74 â Wham! Bam! Thank You, Spaceman! (1975), William A. Levey
75 â Breaking Point (1975), Bo Arne Vibenius
76 â Rolls-Royce Baby (1975), Erwin C. Dietrich
77 â Girls Come First (1975), Joseph McGrath
78 â The Sexplorer (1975), Derek Ford
79 â Le Sexe qui Parle (1975), Claude Mulot
80 â Barbie Wire Dolls (1975), JesĂșs Franco
81 â Emanuelle em Bangkok (1975), Joe DâAmato
82 â Lust (1976), Max PĂ©cas
83 â The Opening of Misty Beethoven (1976), Radley Metzger
84 â Alice in Wonderland: An X-Rated Musical Fantasy (1976), Bud Townsend
85 â Bedside Sailors (1976), John Hillbard
86 â In The Sign of the Lion (1976), Werner Hedman
87 â O ImpĂ©rio dos Sentidos (1976), Nagisa Oshima
88 âThrough the Looking Glasses (1976), Jonas Middleton
89 â A Real Young Girl (1976), Catherine Breillat
90 â Die Marquise von Sade (1976), JesĂșs Franco
91 â Girls in the Night Traffic (1976), JesĂșs Franco
92 â The French Governess (1976), Demofilo Fidani
93 â Inhibition (1976), Paolo Poetti
94 â Around the World in 80 Beds (1976), JesĂșs Franco
95 â Sex Express (1976), Derek Ford
96 â Keep It Up Downstairs (1976), Robert Young
97 â Secrets of a Superstud (1976), Morton L Lewis
98 â The Office Party (1976), David Grant
99 â The Angel and The Woman (1976), Gilles Carle
100 â Agent 69 in the Sign of Scorpio (1977), Werner Hedman
101 â Shining Sex (1977), Werner Hedman
102 â Fate la nanna coscine di pollo (1977), Amasi Damiani
103 â Blue Rita (1977), JesĂșs Franco
104 â Emanuelle na AmĂ©rica (1977), Joe DâAmato
105 â Emanuelle Around the World (1977), Joe DâAmato
106 â Sister Emanuelle (1977), Giuseppe Vari
107 â Nazi Love Camp 27 (1977), Mario Caiano
108 â Under The Bed (1977), David Grant
109 â The Mark (1977), Ilias Mylonakos
110 â The Cerimony (1977), Omiros Efstratiadis
111 â Monsieur Sade (1977), Jacques Robin
112 â Caligulaâs Hot Nights (1977), Roberto Bianchi
113 â Agent 69 Jensen in the Sign of Sagittarius (1978), Werner Hedman
114 â Behind Convent Walls (1978), Walerian Borowczyk
115 â Blue Movie (1978), Alberto Cavallone
116 â Sister of Ursula (1978), Enzo Milloni
117 â The Coming of Sin (1978), JosĂ© RamĂłn Larraz
118 â Pleasure Shop on the Avenue (1978), Joe DâAmato
119 â Youâre Driving Me Crazy (1978), David Grant
120 â Immoral Women (1979), Walerian Borowczyk
121 â Caligula (1979), Bob Guccione
122 â Images In a Convent (1979), Joe DâAmato
123 â Play Model (1979), Mario Gariazzo
124 â Giallo a Venezia (1979), Mario Landi
125 â Malabimba (1979), Andrea Bianchi
126 â A PrisĂŁo (1980), Oswaldo de Oliveira
127 â Beast in Space (1980), Alfonso Brescia
128 â Blow Job (1980), Alberto Cavallone
129 â La Gemella Erotica (1980), Alberto Cavallone
130 â Erotic Nights of the Living Dead (1980), Joe DâAmato
131 â Orgasmo Nero (1980), Joe DâAmato
132 â Flying Sex (1980), Joe DâAmato
133 â Libidomania (1980), Bruno Mattei
134 â When love is obscenity (1980), Roberto Polselli
135 â Hard Sensation (1980), Joe DâAmato
136 â Hotel Paradise (1980), Edoardo Mulargia
137 â Sex and Black Magic (1980), Joe DâAmato
138 â Porno Esotic Love (1980), Joe DâAmato
139 â The Porno Killers (1980), Roberto Mauri
140 â Sem Controle (1980), Paul Verhoeven
141 â TĂĄxi para o Banheiro (1980), Frank Ripploh
142 â Os Frutos da PaixĂŁo (1981), Shuji Terayama
143 â Emmanuelle in Soho (1981), David Hughes
144 â Porno Holocaust (1981), Joe DâAmato
145 â CalĂgula: A HistĂłria que NĂŁo Foi Contada (1982), Joe DâAmato
146 â Scandale (1982), George Mihalka
147 â Apocalipsis Sexual (1982), Carlos Aured
148 â Aphrodite (1982), Robert Fuest
149 â Il Nano Erotico (1982), Alberto Cavallone
150 â My Nights With Messalina (1982), Jaime J. Puig
151 â The Virgin for Caligula (1982), Jaime J. Puig
152 â Luz del Fuego (1982), David Neves
153 â Perdida em Sodoma (1982), Nilton Nascimento
154 â Killing of the Flesh (1983), Cesari Canevari
155 â Satanâs Baby Doll (1983), Mario Bianchi
156 â Taking Tiger Mountain (1983), Tom Huckabee
157 â Emmanuelle 4 (1984), Francis Leroi
158 â Lilian, The Perverted Virgin (1984), JesĂșs Franco
159 â Alcova (1985), Joe DâAmato
160 â James Joyceâs Women (1985), Michael Pearce
161 â Diabo no Corpo (1986), Marco Bellocchio
162 â Emmanuelle 5 (1987), Walerian Borowczyk
163 â Emmanuelle 6 (1988), Bruno Zincone
164 â Hotel St. Pauli (1988), Svend Wan
165 â Kindergarten (1989), Jorge Polaco
166 â Kinski Paganini (1989), Klaus Kinski
167 â Tokyo Decadence (1992), Ryu Murakami
168 â The Soft Kill (1994), Eli Cohen
169 â A Vida de Jesus (1997), Bruno Dumont
170 â Os Idiotas (1998), Lars von Trier
171 â O TĂ©dio (1998), CĂ©dric Kahn
172 â Fiona (1998), Amos Kollek
173 â Jesus is a Palestinian (1999), Lodewijk Crijns
174 â Romance (1999), Catherine Breillat
175 â Pola X (1999), Leos Carax
176 â The Man-Eater (1999), Aurelio Grimaldi
177 â Olhe por Mim (1999), Davide Ferrario
178 â Vampire Strangler (1999), William Hellfire
179 â Baise-moi (2000), Virginie Despentes
180 â Scrapbook (2000), Eric Stanze
181 â Intimacy (2001), Patrice ChĂ©reau
182 â O PornĂłgrafo (2001), Bertrand Bonello
183 â Lucia e o Sexo (2001), Julio Medem
184 â Dias de CĂŁo (2001), Ulrich Seidl
185 â O Centro do Mundo (2001), Wayne Wang
186 â La Novia de LĂĄzaro (2002), Fernando Merinero
187 â Le loup de la cĂŽte Ouest (2002), Hugo Santiago
188 â Eternamente Sua (2002), Apichatpong Weerasethakul
189 â Coisas Secretas (2002), Jean-Claude Brisseau
190 â Ken Park (2002), Larry Clark
191 â Brown Bunny (2003), Vincent Gallo
192 â Faça Isto (2003), Tinto Brass
193 â Rossa Venezia (2003), Andreas Bethmann
194 â The Principles of Lust (2003), Penny Woolcock
195 â Anatomia do Inferno (2004), Catherine Breillat
196 â 9 CançÔes (2004), Michael Winterbottom
197 â Story of The Eye (2004), Georges Bataille
198 â KĂ€rlekens sprĂ„k (2004), Anders Lennberg
199 â Garotinho Bobo (2004), Lionel Baier
200 â All About Anna (2005), Jessica Nilsson
201 â 8mm 2 (2005), J. S. Cardone
202 â Beijando na Boca (2005), Joe Swanberg
203 â O Sabor da Melancia (2005), Tsai Ming-Liang
204 â Princesas (2005), Fernando LĂ©on de Aranoa
205 â Deite Comigo (2005), Clement Virgo
206 â Destricted (2006), Gaspar NoĂ© e outros
207 â Shortbus (2006), John Cameron Mitchell
208 â Taxidermia (2006), Gyorgy PĂĄlfi
209 â Os Anjos Exterminadores (2006), Jean-Claude Brisseau
210 â Amour Fou (2007), Felicitas Korn
211 â Ex Drummer (2007), Koen Mortier
212 â Its Fine. Everything is Fine! (2007), David Brothers
213 â The Story of Richard O (2007), Damien Odoul
214 â Import Export (2007), Ulrich Seidl
215 â Serviço (2008), Brillante Mendoza
216 â Tropical Manila (2008), Sang-woo Lee
217 â Otto, ou Viva Gente Morta (2008), Bruce LaBruce
218 â Ă lâaventure (2008), Jean-Claude Brisseau
219 â Amateur Porn Star Killer 2 (2008), Shane Ryan
220 â Gutterballs (2008), Ryan Nicholson
221 â House of Flesh Mannequins (2009), Domiziano Cristopharo
222 â Anticristo (2009), Lars von Trier
223 â Viagem Alucinante (2009), Gaspar NoĂ©
224 â The Band (2009), Anna Brownfield
225 â Canino (2009), Yorgos Lanthimos
226 â Angels With Dirty Wings (2009), Roland Reber
227 â Now & Later (2009), Philippe Diaz
228 â Bedways (2010), Rolf Peter Kahl
229 â Rio Sex Comedy (2010), Jonathan Nossiter
230 â The Bunny Game (2010), Adam Rehmeier
231 â Ano Bissexto (2010), Michael Rowe
232 â Gandu (2010), Qaushiq Mukherjee
233 â LelleBelle (2011), Mischa Kamp
234 â Desire (2011), Laurent Bouhnik
235 â O Amor Ă© um Saco! (2011), Scud
236 â Caged (2011), Stephan Brenninkmeijer
237 â LĂ©a (2011), Bruno Rolland
238 â The Wrong Ferrari (2011), Adam Green
239 â Clip (2011), Maja Milos
240 â Uma Estranha Amizade (2012), Sean S. Baker
241 â Paradise: Faith (2012), Ulrich Seidl
242 âAnd They Call It Summer (2012), Paolo Franchi
243 â I Want Your Love (2012), Travis Mathews
244 â CrĂŽnicas Sexuais de Uma FamĂlia Francesa (2012), Pascal Arnold
245 â Azul Ă© a Cor Mais Quente (2013), Abdellatif Kechiche
246 â NinfomanĂaca (2013), Lars von Trier
247 â Pornopung (2013), Johan Kaos
248 â O Desconhecido do Lago (2013), Alain Guiraudie
249 â Zonas Ămidas (2013), David Wnendt
250 â Pasolini (2014), Abel Ferrara
251 â Diet of Sex (2014), Borja Brun
252 â Angry Painter (2015), Kyu-hwan Jeon
253 â Love (2015), Gaspar NoĂ©
254 â Muito Amadas (2015), Nabil Ayouch
255 âTheo e Hugo (2016), Olivier Ducastel
256 â Tenemos la Carne (2016), Emiliano Rocha Minter
257 â Needle Boy (2016), Alexander Bak Sagmo
258 â Love Machine (2016), Pavel Ruminov
259 â A Noite (2016), Edgardo Castro
260 â A Thought of Ecstasy (2017), Rolf Peter Kahl
261 â Ana, Meu Amor (2017), Calin Peter Netzer
262 â Picture of Beauty (2017), Maxim Ford
263 â Marfa Girl 2 (2018), Larry Clark
264 â Mektoub, My Love: Intermezzo (2018), Abdellatif Kechiche
Todos os filmes em que as cenas de sexo foram para valer Publicado primeiro em https://www.revistabula.com
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In Check out Dogs, a quite fascinating trait takes place when you shoot civilians in cars and trucks: Nothing at all. Specialization introduced an initiative with Amazon.com to include its own voice-activated Alexa as well as Mirror associates into Ford's automobiles, which would certainly enable motorists to hook up to their home systems and ask the auto to open the garage door, begin the engine or turn on the light over the main door. There ready new technologies, like real-time bus landing apps, that aid, greater than brand-new ways to order that outdated point: a vehicle to get you where you do not need a cars and truck to go. The cars will certainly first be actually utilized to test the software program owning the vehicle as well as drive its functionalities. Getting a vehicle insurance coverage plan coming from tiny highly-rated business offering automobile insurance is certainly not consistently needed. Job AUTOMOBILES deals with a large range of motorsport styles - off karts to sell cars to day-to-day street cars to the type of supercars you observe on the top Equipment, to GT, formula racers, as well as models. North Carolina was available in second put on CarFax's listing, along with concerning 74,266 name cleaned cars. They will definitely inquire you to park the car and then tell you exactly what they want you to accomplish. Pay attention to their rundown. Dalton mentioned this would be a major improvement for insurance providers, yet likewise for auto producers, which would certainly must be actually properly capitalised to shell out insurance claims that might experience the 10s from millions of pounds. To state that the future for (more) connected and also energy-efficient automobiles is actually bright, however, is an unlike pointing out that it looms.
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