#mongrels movie

[rickchung]

Mongrels (dir. Jerome Yoo) x VIFF 2024.

Yoo's debut feature remembers a hazy memory of a Korean family drama set in a 1990s rural Canadian town. A widower immigrant father (Jae-Hyun Kim) does his best to raise his teenage son (Da-Nu Nam) who's learning to become a man and young daughter (Sein Jin) who desperately misses her late mother. There's a lyrical quality to the film's dreamlike structure about grief, survival, and resilience. It's an impressively assured debut evoking a strong sense of mood and setting to its characters adjusting to feeling of foreignness and not belonging.

Premiered at the 2024 Vancouver International Film Festival as part of the Northen Lights series.

[chelleluneauthor]

Here I am, back on Tumblr again.

I'm here to make friends in the horror community, so if you're a horror blogger/reader/author please say hey!

[sukibenders]

Me when I see people compare the Cullens calling/referring to Jacob and the rest of the wolf pack as "dogs", "mutts" or "mongrels" to being the same as them being called "bloodsuckers" "leeches" or even, in Rosalie's case "blonde.":

[philtstone]

I don't know much about LOTR but I know Aragorn's weird. He's a weirdo. He doesn't fit in. Have you ever seen him without that stupid helmet? Wait no don't kick that

lmfaoooo

my great hope is that everyone who has not yet watched lotr now observing my unhinged posts will be compelled to watch lotr. i feel this way not only because i think its a beautiful story but also and more pragmatically because i genuinely think that for whatever flaws it may have its a very special phenomenon in filmmaking history.

(i would never presume to insist anyone has to read the books. theyre bangers though)

that said if you, gentle reader, never do watch lotr. and ur seeing my crazy posts. yes. the biggest takeaway from all of this is indeed that aragorn, prophesied king of the realm and the best dude you will ever meet, is a weirdo

many tolkien characters are weirdos in out-of-story-context. and then several tolkien characters are weirdos in in-story-context, too, which makes them great fun. in fact, it could be argued that there's so much cross-cultural race and power-level mixing in the proverbial dnd party (and all subsequent side quests), that every single character is at one point perceived as a massive weirdo by any other given character in the story.

and theyre all the good guys <3

[theboarsbride]

me: *is overwhelmed by multiple WIPs, writing assignment, essays, and newspaper articles, and-*

my brain: time to plan a new WIP!

[arcanespillo]

Razzabastarda (2013) Alessandro Gassmann

[mongrelthecomic]

Barbie meme time with two of my favorite fae disasters (who will one day appear in the plot of Mongrel, I'm just taking forever to get there 😅)

Thanks for peer pressuring me into this @sayla-aris!

[cellsshapedlikestars]

absolutely loved the chapter! it was definitely unexpected but it reminded me of that scene in new moon where pauls (i hope thats actually who it was) rage turned him into a wolf and i replayed that scene endlessly when i was a teenager 😏

Is the werewolf in twilight not named Jacob?

After some googling, it turns out there are more of them, and always shirtless for some reason?

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Part Six

Steve wakes with a start, yelping and then immediately panicking when the bed covers feel constricting – it passes almost immediately when he realizes where he is and what woke him.

“Hi Eddie,” Steve sighs, blinking the rest of the way awake. He rubs at his crusty eyes, the bedside clock glowing three forty seven at him. Great. “What’s up buddy?”

“Stee,” Eddie says quietly, like he somehow understands the sanctity of the middle of the night, “ow. Dead later,” and then he makes a noise like a fly buzzing. Or a bee. It’s a fair attempt at a gentle ‘bzzzz’ing noise.

Steve sighs, “okay buddy lets go.”

Eddie turns at the top of the stairs and goes down them on his butt, which Steve’s pretty sure he would find amusing if he wasn’t half asleep and half annoyed.

The ground outside is cold enough that Steve hisses when his bare foot hits it, and he does a silly hopping jog to follow Eddie onto the lawn. It is a bee, and it’s moving sluggish and confused on the grass. The weathers getting colder, the time of year plus...probably it’s old?

Steve knows fuck all about bees, but he’s pretty sure individual bees don’t live for that long, and that maybe they sort of hibernate in the winter? Or something? Isn’t that what all of that honey is for?

Maybe they could bring it into the warm and give it some sugar water or something, Steve’s pretty sure he’s heard that from someone, somewhere along the line, “okay little bee guy, here we go.” Steve uses a finger to encourage the fuzzy bee onto his hand.

Steve stands; there’s very faint, and probably first of the year, patches of frost on Eddie’s tent. It hasn’t formed anywhere else, so it’s probably not that bad yet, but still, it’s chilly enough that Steve hops back across the lawn with some urgency.

In the kitchen, Steve says, “here Eddie, you take him,” and transfers the bee into Eddie’s cupped hands. He mixes a tiny mount of sugar water in the bottom of a glass, with no idea at all if it’ll help or not. The bee should probably be asleep, right? Steve can’t remember ever seeing a bee at night, so he assumes they go to bed like sensible bees.

Steve drops a tiny bit of the sugary mixture onto Eddie’s palm, right in front of the bee’s face; he drinks it, so Steve does it again. “Okay, I think we should all try and get some sleep. Eddie, you want to sleep on the couch?”

“Sleep on the couch.”

“Yeah,” Steve rubs his arms, making ‘brrrr’ing noises and generally pretending he’s in arctic conditions. He points to the door, “cold outside. Warm here.”

Eddie cocks his head, but seems to get it, so Steve takes the bee, setting it dead center on a couch cushion, and goes back to bed.

Steve wakes again at a much more normal time; blinking at the nine thirty now on his clock and thinking that is way, way better. He wonders vaguely if the bee lived, but he doubts it. Eddie will probably be sad about it; like the bird.

If that was even sadness; if Eddie even understands the concept of death. Steve has no way to know what Eddie thinks about it.

He heads downstairs; vaguely planning his day. He needs a coffee and some breakfast, then get ready; they probably need some groceries. Working opposite shifts to Robin really sucks; he hasn’t seen her once yet this week. They talk on the phone though, and she swears she's working on Keith. He should check when he goes in later for a day they both have off so they can hang out; if such a thing even exists.

Maybe the kids will come over for a movie night; Steve does now have unfettered access to all the newest releases...and is it sad that Steve’s lonely enough that he wants to invite over that bunch of mongrels? Maybe, he’s not going to think to much about it.

Steve sets the coffee going then heads into the lounge; Eddie’s curled up into a tight ball, his spine bent at a really fucking weird angle and his tail wrapped around himself; Steve knows then that he’s never seen Eddie sleep before, because he’s definitely never seen whatever the hell is happening here. It’s like a cat. Or a snake, maybe. The way he’s all curled up tight on himself; makes Steve’s back hurt just looking at him.

At the other end of the couch is the sad, still, little body of the bee. Steve stares at it, listening to the faint noise from the kitchen; the coffee pot gurgles a little.

Eddie blinks awake, unwrapping himself.

“Morning Eddie.”

“Morning Stee,” Eddie blinks sadly at the bee, and then, very gently, leans over and nudges it with a claw tip, “dead?”

“Yeah buddy, I’m sorry. But at least he was comfortable, right? Warm and...sugared up.”

Eddie hums noncommittally, watching as Steve scoops up the bee and following him into the kitchen. Steve very nearly puts the bee in the trash can, but veers off at the last moment. It feels a little wrong, throwing the little dude out; he also doesn’t know what Eddie would thinks and feels vaguely like Eddie might...judge him.

Steve heads outside and deposits him in a plant pot instead. When he comes back in, Eddie’s raiding the fridge, “pear inied. Grapes inied. Celery inied.”

Steve sighs, “I know buddy, I’m sorry. I’ll go and get more, okay?” Steve goes out to the freezer in the garage and comes back with a whole bag of frozen peas, and that seems to completely make up for it. He pours Eddie a bowl of peas, and himself a bowl of cereal, sticking a spoon in both. He downs the coffee so he doesn’t have to make two trips.

“Couch, TV?”

Eddie nods, following Steve. Eddie turns on the TV since Steve’s hands are full, and they sit side by side on the couch, Eddie very carefully using his spoon.

“Called?”

“It’s a toothbrush.”

Eddie watches from his seat on the floor next to Steve; he’s high enough to easily lean his elbows on the counter top.

“Why?”

And ‘called?’ Steve can handle all day long, but ‘why?’ has rapidly become a tricky thing to navigate.

“To clean.” Steve grins big as he can, clicking his teeth together, “teeth.”

“Teeth,” Eddie snaps back, then turns to the mirror, clicking his teeth at himself. “Eddidie clean teeth?”

Steve snorts a laugh, and Eddie looks at him, tilting his head but smiling too. Steve figures that a solid ninety five percent of the time, Eddie’s just happy to be involved.

“Okay buddy I think I have…” Steve rummages in the cupboard under the sink, “ah ha!”

“Ah ha!”

“Here you go,” Steve unwraps the new toothbrush, really, really fucking glad it’s a different color to his own. “Steve’s is blue, Eddie’s is purple.”

“Purple.”

“You got it buddy,” Steve wets the bristles of both, and then puts the tiniest little dab of toothpaste on Eddie’s before putting the proper amount on his own.

“Here you go.” Steve hands it over, and then Starts brushing his teeth. Eddie holds his own brush, watching Steve closely in the mirror before attempting it himself. His movements are slow and cautious, be he definitely gets the idea.

Steve rinses his brush under the water, leaving it running as Eddie does the same. Eddie has no trouble dropping his toothbrush into the cup next to Steve’s.

Eddie explores the bath next; all this shit must have been here when Eddie spent a night in the tub, but Steve was beaten to hell and still a little fucking high on Russian truth serum when all that was going on, so he honestly doesn’t really remember much of those first couple of days. “Called?”

“Shampoo. It’s to clean hair,” Steve tugs on his hair to demonstrate, “hair.”

“Eddidie clean hair?”

“Uh. I mean, if you want to?”

Eddie gets the cap open, squeezing the bottle carefully and sniffing the hole, “good.”

Steve’s current shampoo smells like apples, and Steve realizes what’s going to happen just as it’s too late to stop Eddie from sticking his tongue out.

Eddie smacks his lips together, looking truly disgusted, “fucking gross.”

“Hey! Language!” Steve takes the bottle from a grinning Eddie. He looks so pleased with himself Steve can’t stay mad, “damn kids,” he sighs. Eddie definitely got that one from Max, the little reprobate. “Okay, if we’re going to do this, in the tub.”

Eddie points, “in?”

“Yup.”

Eddie manages it, hoisting himself up and the flicking his tail and sliding his ass over the edge, “Eddidie in tub.”

“You got it buddy,” Steve takes the shower head down, pointing it away from Eddie while it warms up, then moving it a little onto his tail, “feel okay?”

“Warm,” Eddie reaches out to feel the water, “good.”

“Okay, here we go then.”

Eddie sits patiently, head tilted back as Steve wets his hair down and then adds the shampoo. Eddie’s hair is thick, like, insanely thick, and it takes a bit for Steve to work the lather in. The individual strands are thick too, coarse and a little wiry. The back of Eddie’s scalp feels strange too, like his skull had ridges on it; lines that all join together right at the back of Eddie’s head. You’d never be able to see it through his hair.

Steve goes through half a bottle of conditioner on him, but Eddie sits patiently through all of it, flicking his fingers through the water, even when Steve combs it through and catches on snags, Eddie’s doesn’t complain at all. He tilts his head back easily when Steve directs him to, “okay, nearly finished.”

Once they’re done, Eddie climbs out of the bath and onto a towel, sitting on the floor while Steve dries his hair; he gets the idea and dries his arms and torso himself. Steve’s so used to looking at him that he doesn’t find the lack of belly button and nipples at all odd any more. Just looks normal. Looks like Eddie.

“Okay buddy, just let me grab a shower, and then you can help me write a grocery list,” Eddie follows Steve into the bedroom, watching as Steve grabs clothes before heading for his shower. Steve clicks the lock on just in case; Eddie’s not exactly worked out stuff like boundaries or personal space yet.

When Steve comes out, Eddie’s waiting patiently, sitting on the edge of Steve’s bed, wearing his yellow sweater.

Part Eight

[lipstickghoulie]

Can’t take my eyes off of you

•Cooper Howard/Lucy MacLean. 4k+ works, explicit smut (praise kink, possessive and dirty talk, p in v sex)

Lucy has a tattoo and Cooper is taken aback (by how horny it makes him)

☢️Fic under the cut☢️

The night that the ghoul told Lucy his real name didn’t go as he expected at all.

It was a dry, dusty night at a makeshift camp they made together in silence, the ruins of some dilapidated and gutted old water tower casting cool shadows over them before the sun started to set. Lucy drove tent stakes into the ground and Cooper worked at making a small fire roar to life over splintery wooden planks scavenged from the forgotten structure. He wouldn’t normally chance a fire but they hadn’t seen any signs of life besides the two of them in days, not even a stray mongrel dog or mutated creature.

More than anything, Cooper was bored. He wasn’t a man that handled his boredom well, it made him itchy, impatient and prone to doing something impulsive. He needed something to shoot or inhale, as soon as fucking possible. He had enough whiskey they salvaged out of some long-dead prepper’s stash a week ago to get a buzz going as he sat back and stared at the fire licking at the air but hell, he needed something to entertain him.

Maybe that was why he humored the vaultie’s question this time instead of giving some sarcastic quip or grunting and ignoring her like he had been recently. Lucy never seemed put-out by not getting direct answers to her personal questions but she certainly seemed to like to keep asking them anyways in between her yammering about the vault she grew up in and novels she had read and anything else that crossed her mind. In truth, he rather liked listening to her yap away, even if he wasn’t directly engaging with the stream of babble. It was nearly comforting, like the low drone of a ceiling fan in the trailer he’d use in between takes during more complicated times, pre-bomb drop. Even now, she sat on the dirt about a foot away from him, prattling on as if they were old friends.

Either way, this time she turned to him, cheerfully asked him what his actual name was anyways and Cooper answered honestly. He knew there was a chance that Lucy may have seen his movies but he wasn’t expecting her to squeal and start rambling on about wow, she couldn’t believe that he was THE Cooper Howard. How she had seen every film he had ever starred in, how she was the biggest fan of his back in her vault, how she had irritated her family for a streak of months in her teens when she insisted on only watching his films-

He shouldn’t have been that surprised by this, Cooper mused with a long, resigned sigh as he watched Lucy talk animatedly. Barb was the closest thing he had to an agent back in the halcyon movie star days and he wouldn’t be shocked if she had made some sort of deal that included his whole damn filmography getting thrown into the vaults when he signed on to endorse Vault-Tec in the first place. Maybe most vault-rats were growing up as huge Cooper Howard fans, indoctrinated on his flicks as well as their idealistic ways of life and he had no idea until now.

Suddenly, he felt very grateful for his face looking so different these days so he wouldn’t have to worry about getting recognized and fawned over by any possible Vault-dweller turned surfacer in the future. It seemed like the sort of thing that would be more grating than helpful for survival out here in the wastes.

His thoughts were interrupted by Lucy suddenly pausing mid-sentence to scrabble at the zipper on her patched and battered vault suit, yanking it down even past the lines of her undershirt as she jumped up to stand. Cooper yelped before he could stop himself, eyes going wide at the unexpected move, “What in the hell do you think you’re doing, woman?”

Lucy blinked those big old peepers at him as if he was the one acting crazy, continuing to shuck off her vault jumpsuit until it hung down around her hips. Slowly, she explained in a way that didn’t explain anything whatsoever, “I wanted to show you something that proved I was a big fan of your movies?”

Her petite fingers pulled up her grimy tank top and Cooper started sputtering in horror, sure that somehow she had arrived at the awful idea to flash him or get her tits out like some kind of crazed groupie. Yes, okay, she was a looker and who wouldn’t fuck their hand while thinking about her on long nights during their turn at watching out for errant deathclaws and other hazards? But he sure as shit didn’t want any moves made to be on account of his celebrity status from two hundred odd years ago.

However, his momentary panic was for nothing as her yanking up of the fabric ended at her ribs. Then, her pants were pulled slightly down and… what was that on her side?

“There!” Lucy crowed triumphantly, as if she was settling a one-sided argument that Cooper wasn’t even aware that they were having. “I told you that I loved your films!”

Almost against his better judgment, Cooper scooted closer to look at what she was showing him more clearly. Fuck, was that a tattoo?

Emblazoned against the creamy expanse of skin above her hip, there was the gun that his character wielded in “A Man and his Dog”. It was a pretty damn good likeness actually, impressive in the details right down to the tiny, nearly imperceptible star on the grip. Painstakingly careful detail poured into every line of ink. It stood out in what felt like dozens or more shades of grey and black. Unmistakably his revolver, right there, permanently affixed to her until the end of time.

“Fuckin’ A, where the hell did you even get something like this done? I’d think this would be frowned upon in your cult,” Cooper breathed out, not able to resist reaching out and skating his hands over the tattoo in a manner that some might call reverent. Lucy didn’t seem to mind, her face expression still victorious and her soft flesh unflinching under his own rough fingers.

It felt as smooth as the rest of her surprisingly but he didn’t know enough about tattoos to know if that was how it was normally. Back in the day, you’d only see fellas that had done serious time with tattoos. It was very uncommon to see them at all, even in the military. And nowadays? Most tattoos seemed to be shitty, half-infected stick and poke jobs and he didn’t let anyone get close enough to him to find out how they’d feel texturally under his touch.

At least she had impeccable taste even if she didn’t have a lick of sense in her head half of the time. “A Man and his Dog” had been one of the few flicks he did that he actually enjoyed, especially since the director had allowed him to use his own dog.

God, he missed Roosevelt. One hell of a fine dog. He had been way better trained than Dogmeat, who kept running off and worrying them sick (even if Cooper never voiced it aloud besides declaring he hoped the mongrel didn’t fall into a well somewhere). Even now, they only knew the dog was alright since he dashed on ahead of them since they kept seeing his paw prints alongside the path as they kept trekking to the New Vegas strip.

Lucy was proudly talking on and on while he reminisced, elaborating about her brother finding some old book about the Great Khans hidden amongst their mother’s old things and how there had been a section on their tattoo techniques and she had always been a dab hand at art anyways-

Two things occurred to Cooper very quickly.

One of those thoughts being that him and Lucy were both permanently marked by the other in ways that they couldn’t easily erase. She had jabbed this likeness of his gun into this vulnerable spot above her hip, giving him ownership over this patch of her like someone laying foundation at a freshly purchased homestead, and it was all before she even knew him. He was as much a part of her as her pretty finger was woven into him now. Something more intimate feeling than anything he had ever known. Any man that had ever bedded her had likely seen this gun inked into her and had no idea that they’d never penetrate her, her sweet mind, so deeply that Lucy would sit there for what was likely hours and work a sharp needle into herself all for some kind of homage. It had to have hurt badly and yet she persevered until her tribute to him was done and done well.

The second thing that he realized was that he was harder than he could remember being in years. Here, on his knees before her in the dirt while their fire dully crackled behind his back, Cooper’s erect cock was dripping pre-cum against the front of his pants. His fingers were doing more than just investigating the tattoo now, massaging tender circles down and at her hips themselves.

Lucy was still obliviously talking on about proper tattoo care and about why a “Man and her Dog” was her favorite movie so Cooper patiently waited until she took a breath to chime in, even if he had only been half-listening through the lurid fantasies flashing through his brain about shoving her into the dirt and railing her like there was no tomorrow.

He murmured lowly, “I’m mighty surprised that a goody-two shoes like yourself would even do something like this. Seems a bit naughty for you, sweetheart.”

If Lucy had been paying attention, she might have noticed the molasses-slow and sweet way that Cooper drawled out ‘sweetheart’ was decidedly different from the more condescending way he usually said it to her. Or that he had started to pull down where her jumpsuit was folded over at her waist himself, centimeter by centimeter, until the elastic of her plain cotton panties was visible.

“Everyone has their own form of rebellion that they do to act out when they’re younger,” Lucy replied sheepishly, cheeks reddening at the memory as if embarrassed. “Still, I made sure that my dad never found out or saw it since I was so afraid he would be disappointed in me.”

Oh ho, if that wasn’t a delicious morsel of information on top of an already spectacular heap of new information about his companion. Cooper couldn’t help the grin that crept across his chapped lips as he leaned forward slightly and dragged his tongue against the inked symbol of the man he used to be. Her skin tasted like salt but based on how she twitched, gasping… He would lap away every drop of sweat off of her body if it meant she would keep reacting like that.

“Cooper? What are you doing?” The vaultie asked carefully, her eyes wide and luminous even now. Even with her doe-like appearance, she didn’t seem ready to bolt though. There was a shaky need in the way that she held herself that matched the lust running through his system hotter than a hit of Jet.

And fuck, didn’t his name sound right rolling off of her tongue like that?

Cooper hummed as if considering his answer, undoing her clothing further so her silly uniform fell down past her knees. Deftly, he helped work off her boots and followed it up with letting the jumpsuit fall into the dirt. Lucy lifted her leg to help him each time he needed her to, showing her willingness with each step even as she waited for him to speak. Even standing there in just her tank top and simple underwear, she looked good enough to eat.

He rasped out, “Well, you see, sweetie… you tell a man that you have a whole fuckin’ tattoo for him and he might want to fuck you so full of him that you drip his cum for days afterwards. You got a problem with that?”

She didn’t react with shock or outrage the way that some people might assume sweet little bunnies like her might but Cooper knew her better than that. He knew there would be a flare of hot interest in her eyes before he even glanced up and met them. Lucy didn’t seem to shy away from sex or sexual topics and besides, hadn’t the two of them been dancing around each other for long enough?

Lucy shook her head emphatically, assuring him, “No, I don’t have a problem with it. I have been wanting to have sex with you for weeks! I only didn’t ask because you didn’t seem to show any interest!”

The ghoul could argue that he had shown plenty of interest, in his own way. He didn’t moon after her but he listened to her talk, he didn’t threaten her any more… hell, the fact that he had asked Lucy to come along with him on this journey to hunt down her father and get some answers together was sign enough that maybe he liked her more than merely platonically. He wouldn’t split hairs though and debate the issue now.

Instead, he impatiently pulled Lucy forward until her knees hit the ground with a puff of dust and an exclamation of surprise. Cooper rolled her underneath him and slammed his mouth against hers, all hungry ferocity and nipping teeth and his tongue seeking entrance against her lips. Lucy met his fervor in kind and then some, grinding herself against his thigh.

Cooper pulled back to regard her and catch his breath. With her laying back like this, her hair spread out behind her in dark waves, her lips pink and kiss-swollen, he wondered if he had ever seen anything as breathtakingly beautiful before. He hadn’t since the world went to hell, anyways.

“Does that spell out enough interest for you, Lucy MacLean?” He asked dryly, his fingers pausing her slow grind so he could pull off that flimsy cloth barrier between him and her waiting cunt. He didn’t miss the way that it seemed to cling to her core for a second before pulling free, strands of her clear arousal stretching between her flesh and panties for one shining moment before snapping.

Fuck, he needed to get a taste of that.

Lucy was responding in some fashion but Cooper was only half-listening again, shucking off his duster and haphazardly folding it into a squarish shape. He tucked the mass of leather underneath her shapely ass to angle her hips slightly upwards. It had been a long while since he had last eaten pussy, which was a crying shame since he did enjoy doing it back when he was a married man. Cooper remembered the mechanics of it though and besides, he really wanted to devour this cute vaultie cunt while he had the opportunity.

He dipped his head forward and his tongue made a wide sweep against her pussy lips, gathering up her arousal against his tongue. Lucy tasted better than he had imagined all of those times that he had jerked off thinking about her, spilling his seed onto the ground a few feet away from where she slept at night. Her tang coating his mouth and making a home there more sweetly than the aftertaste of a Nuka-cola cherry. Lucy was flailing a lot already so Cooper grabbed her thighs more firmly, holding them open so he could get his fill of her better.

Cooper worked his tongue into her sodden hole, increasing his ferocity when one of his hands slipped from her thigh and brushed near her hip. He was reminded of the tattoo. Her love letter to the man he was (but Cooper was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth these days and he’d still take it as a tribute to himself either way). The bony ridge by where his nose used to sit nudged against where her clit was hidden and that was enough for the poor girl to go over the edge, shrieking his name so loudly that he could hear it even over her soft thighs earmuffing his head. She must have been wound tighter than a stressed rubber band to cum so fast and so much, her release dripping down Cooper’s chin in a way that stoked his ego and made him want to make it happen again and again and again-

Lucy apparently had other ideas though because she clutched at his head hard enough to knock his hat clear off, pulling him up her body ferociously while her insistent fingers pulled at his belt, unbuckling it with a snap that nearly made him flinch.

“I want us to have sex right now,” She panted out, her eyes huge and pupils ready to swallow him up completely with how dilated they were. Lucy looked right at him, not turning away, truly seeing him under the startling headlights of her gaze. Cooper felt something pang in his chest and knew that he was truly and irrevocably fucked in how much of a hold this woman had on him already.

Still, he would have time for worrying about that later. Right now, he helped her in divesting him of his pants even as Cooper taunted her as if he wasn’t as desperate as she was in this moment, “Aw, sweet pea, someone’s impatient.”

“You love the sound of your own voice, don’t you, mister?” Lucy snarked back, making Cooper chuckle at the heat behind it. She fascinated him, there was no doubt about it. The way she could be the most naive and idealistic thing he had ever seen in his entire cursed existence one moment and removing someone’s head the next if it was necessary. Her spine was stronger than steel underneath all of that fluff and god alive, he loved to poke at it.

“I think you love the sound of my voice,” Cooper drawled as he pushed down his trousers, his cock bouncing free since he hadn’t worn underwear in some fifty-odd or more years. It was just as radiation roughened as the rest of him but still in perfect working condition, thank god. “You probably touched yourself every night back in your vault thinking about those dumbfuck movies I was in, if you liked them so damn much.”

Cooper didn’t give her time to respond before he was reaching out and rolling the frills of her clit underneath his fingertips, making her keen loudly and scrabble her nails at the dirt underneath her. She looked so fuckin’ good like this; cheeks pink and even pinker pussy flooding his hand. He should have had her like this weeks ago when they first started looking for that damn head.

He pushed up that undershirt of hers until it lay above her collarbones, admiring her soft and pert tits. Funny that he had balked away at the thought of her flashing him earlier. What an idiot that he had been, Cooper thought with amusement to himself as he ran his thumbs over her rosy nipples lightly. Lucy squirmed and gave him a warning look that seemed to demand that he get on with the main event so he relented with a chuckle, moving his hands away reluctantly.

He notched the thick tip of his cock head at her cunt, leisurely rubbing it between her cunt and watching his precum and her arousal mix together in a viscous combination that he wouldn’t mind licking off of her next time.

There had to be a next time, right? If not, Cooper would have to pull out all the stops to make sure there was. He wasn’t stupid enough to think that he’d get his fill of Lucy after only one time.

In any case, he started to push his cock into her, both of them groaning at how tight the fit was even as Cooper carefully took her inch by inch. Lucy’s hands moved to his shoulders instead of the ground as if trying to spur him on, clawing at him in a way that he could feel even through the layers of his coat and button-up shirt. When he finally sank into her down to the root, Lucy whined his name and it sent an electric thrill up his spine in a way that the ghoul hadn’t felt in years. It was the hottest noise he had ever heard and he would do whatever it took to have her make it over and over.

“Feel like you’re made for me,” Cooper murmured, eyes trained on how his dick slid into her, how the veins on his shaft came away shiny and dripping with every slip out of her. “But you’ve always been mine, ain’t that right? Running around your vault all those years and you had yourself marked as mine all that fuckin’ time.”

That line of thinking was still lodged deep in Cooper’s mind; even while she was fooling around with boys in that glorified underground bunker, she had been Cooper’s girl and just didn’t understand it yet. No one else had the same claim to her. She’d never fully be able to get rid of him or scrub him from her skin. Cooper was as much a part of Lucy as she was a part of him now, both figuratively and literally. The notion seemed to please him based on his cock being more erect and painfully hard than he had any right being.

“Cooper, please,” Lucy pleaded softly, making his eyes flick up to meet hers instead of continuing to watch his cock make her pussy flutter around him. There was something needy in her gaze and with the way her hot cunt kept clenching around his dick, Cooper realized with a jolt that she liked the possessive talk. That she was riding the same damn kink train that he was and that she wanted more. Maybe she liked the idea of belonging to anyone, not specifically him, but he was definitely going to take advantage of it either way.

Cooper started pistoning into her, his balls colliding with the cushion of her ass on every snap of his hips. Her inner walls pulled greedily at him like they didn’t want to let go and he found himself having to grit his teeth to make sure he didn’t cum too fast. Lucy’s gorgeous tits bounced on every plunge of his dick and he longed to capture one in his mouth to worry at her nipples until they were puffy and aching but he knew he’d orgasm the second he did so they’d have to remain neglected for now.

“You’re all mine, my girl, huh?” Cooper growled out, grabbing at her hips to yank her to meet him on every thrust. “Come on, sweetheart, show me how much you’ve wanted me. Be a good girl-“

Oh, that did it. Lucy’s pussy seized around his cock in a strangling vice grip as she whimpered, her release flooding over both of their thighs and his balls the next time that they swung close. Cooper knew he wasn’t far behind and while he badly wanted to cum inside of that pretty pussy so much that it would spill out of her, they only had a few pouches of Radaway with no idea when they’d find another trader that might have some on their person.

Besides, he had a better idea of where to cum right now.

A few more sloppy thrusts on his end to enjoy the lingering flutters of her cunt and then he pulled out, his hand closing around his soaked shaft with a tight fist. It was only a few jerky passes of his fingers before he was following her to orgasm, spurts of his translucent spend flowing out and landing exactly where he intended them to; painting the tattoo that Lucy had gotten in his honor all of those years before she had even met him. Cooper admired his handiwork for a long moment, at the effect of his cum dotting over the lines of ink, before he flopped down on the ground beside her and stared up at the night sky. His mind was blank with contentment for once.

You could see more stars nowadays than he could when he was younger.

Apparently Lucy wasn’t quite as quiet and relaxed as he was in this moment since her cheerful voice chirped up next to him, “So, you like the tattoo then?”

…At least he wasn’t bored any more and Cooper doubted that he would be for a long time after this.

[legendary-defender-of-fandoms]

The Beetlejuice’s as Cats - a Thread

Movie Beetlejuice - Tom Cat

Feral, born & raised in the wild

Always scouting for a female in heat

Litters of bastard kittens all over the county

Not sure how he’s still alive - definitely pushing the 9 lives myth to its limit

He bites

Do NOT bring him into your house - has fleas & ticks & years of grime

Also cannot be tamed or housebroken

Cartoon Beetlejuice - Indoor/Outdoor Housecat

Likes to prowl the neighborhood stealing food like a mongrel

Also gets very whiny if his dinner is 3 minutes late

Not neutered, because he always runs & hides when it’s time to visit the vet

DEFINITELY not a snuggle bug, just ask him. He swears he hates human contact

Will cry for pets & hugs from his favorite humans

A mighty hunter. Has brought home many dead things, a few of which he’s even killed himself

Hates snow & rain - will stay inside on wet days & glare at the precipitation

Musical Beetlejuice - Abandoned Housecat

Adopted by humans who decided “he’s an outdoor cat,” then moved and “forgot” to bring him along

Still has his balls, because his owners never bothered getting him neutered or vaccinated

EXTREMELY affectionate - many head bumps, will stay on your lap forever

Not gonna be happy during the first flea bath

Runs & hides under furniture when there’s shouting or raised voices

Not afraid to fight to the death - never really learned how to play-fight

Will eat hamsters and fish not understanding they aren’t food

[jeyuwuso]

Just realized I've never posted my very elaborate Always Sunny ACNH island on here

Description below the cut:

(Note: Harry, Jared, and Roy are OCs that I added to my island when I first started. I repurposed them for this theme)

Human Residents

Alli - Random Philadelphian

Jared - Matthew "Rickety Cricket" Mara

Harry - The Lawyer

Roy - Z

Villagers

Gruff - Duncan

Barold - Frank Reynolds

Gigi - Artemis Dubois

Quinn - Deandra "Sweet Dee" Reynolds

Raymond - Dennis Reynolds

Punchy - Charlie Kelly

Mac - Ronald "Mac" McDonald

Bea - The Waitress

Hazel - Margaret McPoyle

Shino - Carmen

Villager Homes

Gruff - Duncan's apartment

Barold - Under the bridge

Gigi - Love dungeon

Quinn - Dee's bedroom

Raymond - Dennis's bedroom

Punchy - The dump

Mac - Mac's bedroom

Bea - Coffee shop

Hazel - McPoyles' apartment

Shino - Honestly this one isn't from the show, it's just me self-indulgently giving Carmen a nice little house with her baby bc she deserves nice things

Labeled Map

Harry's home - Charlie's presentation (upstairs), fish factory (main room), lawyer's office (left), the tunnel under the Holiday Inn (right), Pop Pop's hospital room (back), Guigino's (basement)

Alli's home - Paddy's Pub. Includes: Bar (upstairs), Dayman production (main room), Charlie's bad room (left), bathroom (right), back room (back), basement (basement)

Roy's home - Frank and Charlie's apartment (upstairs), movie theater (main room), Family Fight (left), convenience store (right), public pool (basement) [back room unavailable]

Fallen piano and scratcher

Project Badass recording

Park

Eagles tryouts

McPoyle-Ponderosa wedding

Jersey Shore

Wrestling for the Troops

Fight Milk commercial taping

Invigaron presentation

Basketball court

Sting operation

Bus station

Range Rover

Boat

The castle and Frank's dinner

Cheese mongrel

The bog

Shelley Kelly

Woods

Abandoned pool

Paddy's Wagon

Italian market

The slopes

Train

"Staged" crash

Shipwreck

[solradguy]

I love the concept of werewolves but honestly there's just so much bad werewolf media out there to sift through. Vampires won out with a bajillion stellar Dracula adaptations, Carmilla, Nosferatu, Interview With The Vampire, and Lost Boys, and werewolves got, like, Mongrels by Stephen Graham Jones, An American Werewolf In London, and a side bit in the last half of that Hugh Jackman Van Helsing movie

[the-desolated-quill]

Okay. So here’s the problem I have with Aquaman And The Lost Kingdom.

It’s not a bad movie as such. It has its moments. There are things to like. The problem is that it pales in comparison to the first film. I LOVED Aquaman. I loved it way more than I thought I would. It was a well written, visually stunning fantasy epic. It was also a complete story with a beginning, middle and end. Which leaves us with a big problem with the sequel. Because the ending of the first film is so definitive, there isn’t actually anywhere for the second film to go. I mean they try. We see Black Manta continue with his quest for revenge, and we see Arthur try to reconnect with his half-brother Orm in the hopes of redeeming him, but it all feels kind of superfluous. Everything The Lost Kingdom does, the first film had already done and done better.

It also doesn’t help that this film came out at a time when Warner Bros was busy trying to suffocate the DC Universe with a pillow. Plus the extensive reshoots in order to erase Amber Heard from existence because Hollywood has the backbone of a chocolate eclair. And on top of that, the script’s environmental messaging is both clumsy and painfully on the nose. The villain, a dollar store Sauron, was imprisoned in Antarctica and now global warming is thawing him out. And the film ends with Arthur addressing the United Nations, lecturing humanity to look after the planet, which is not only a complete ripoff of the ending of Black Panther, minus the emotional payoff of a well executed character arc, it’s also unintentionally hilarious because Jason Momoa is doing his speech in his day-glow orange Aquaman suit. I’m sorry, but there’s a reason why Chadwick Boseman didn’t have his Black Panther suit on during his big speech, and that’s because it would be impossible to take him seriously if he was trying to tug at the heartstrings and promote international and intercultural unity while dressed in a giant cat costume. 🤣

And THEN there’s the racial allegory.

When the first film came out, I remember there was minor controversy because people were hoping DC would cast Polynesian actors as the Atlanteans. Instead they were all white, which was a shame… until you watched the film and you realised that all the human characters were played by people of colour, and you listened to the derogatory way Atlanteans talked about humans in the film, and you realise that, holy shit, this was deliberate. Atlantis is a metaphor for white supremacy. They view humans as ignorant, destructive, primitive, and savage. They even refer to Arthur as a mongrel at one point. I love this idea because I think it’s a clever way of tying Aquaman into the original myth of Atlantis, which people tend to forget was itself an anti-colonialist allegory. The Atlanteans conquered the world, enslaving other nations, and because of their hubris and greed, they fell out of favour with the gods, and so Atlantis sank into the sea without a trace. So using DC’s Atlantis as a metaphor for white supremacy is actually thematically appropriate and adds another layer to the film.

Unfortunately the racial allegory becomes very problematic in the second film.

Like the first film, the Atlanteans (with the exception of Arthur) are portrayed by white people and the humans by people of colour, presumably in order to keep continuity with the first film. The problem is that the context of this film is very different. Think about it. What happens? Black Manta, a black man, wants revenge against Aquaman. Humans, played by people of colour, have caused global warming, melting Antarctica, and now Black Manta wants to speed the process up to resurrect dollar store Sauron in order to gain the power to destroy Atlantis, where the white people live. He fails, and the white Atlanteans decide to reveal themselves in order to share their superior wisdom, knowledge and technology with the natives in order to save the world.

Yikes. BIG yikes. 😰

The racial allegory is a double edged sword that cuts both ways. What was used as a way to examine and condemn white supremacy in the first film is now inadvertently reinforcing colonialist narratives and stereotypes in the second. In fairness, I don’t think this was intentional on the part of the filmmakers, but it’s still a MASSIVE oversight, and I’m amazed nobody picked up on it during production. To say it’s dodgy would be an understatement.

So yeah. Aquaman And The Lost Kingdom. Not a fan. 🤷🏻‍♂️😕

[waeirfaahl]

Your tastes run more toward... your son?!

Again about morbid implications (also here) in Wolf Quest... The fox spirit confused many people, because her behavior toward Balto was quite uncomfortable. What's interesting, originally this character was intended to be an arctic fox, but since they already had the white animal character (the Great Aniu), the fox spirit was turned into a red fox.

But the creepiest aspect is that this fox spirit is actually the Great Aniu herself, the revered wolf deity, the Great Mother of all wolves. The movie revealed that all these totem spirits are Aniu, while the author mentioned that Aniu is a part of the Great Guardian Spirit. Simply saying, in this scene she seducts and touches her son's groin with her back and tail.

I guess, that's how she behaved with the stray mongrel, who unintentionally became a deadbeat daddy.

[thebrightestlodge]

OC chart with Mongrel! He would love Dragonheart. It'd make him cry as much as Predator and The Neverending Story (the only other movies I imagine he'd watch) ...I hope you appreciate the polycule that made him.

(temple under readmore!)